Joe and Lindsay enjoyed each other’s presence for an hour or so, interrupted only by an indignant merowp. “Trixie! Don’t feel insulted! I won’t leave you alone!” Lindsay said as a small tortoiseshell cat wandered out from her hiding spot, approaching the two cautiously.
“You didn’t mention you had a cat…” Joe said, looking at the approaching feline.
“I don’t. She owns me, and we both know it. I adopted her when she was just a kitten. How she survived while I was wherever, I don’t know, but since I came back, she does not like being away from me, except when I go out to the store. She’s a good girl, just possessive,” Lindsay reported.
Joe held out a wing to the cat, who sniffed at it. “Hello, Trixie. I’m Joe. Nice to meet you, little lady.”
Trixie sat down, giving Joe a stare before rubbing up against Joe’s leg. Lindsay sighed in relief. “Good, she likes you. I thought the feathers would confuse her. You should see her chase birds out in the yard.”
“Someday soon, I will. She seems to be a good girl. Can I like you, Trixie?” Joe asked, petting the cat with a wing. Trixie purred at the attention she was given before deciding she had had enough and scampered off. “Yes, I can like her.”
“She’s been my sanity check. I would not say she’s a good conversationalist, but she is very responsive. She knows when I’m feeling bad, and just cuddles up and purrs until I don’t want to cry any more. Whatever we do, wherever we go, Trixie comes with me. Part of the package.”
Joe nodded in agreement. “Part of the package. I’m willing to help her make you feel better when you feel bad, if you want,” he told her.
“Oh, I want! Please?”
It wasn’t until about one that afternoon before Joe felt Lindsay was stable enough for him to go out, first to his apartment to get a few things he would want, then to the firehouse to see about the satellite phones, and last to the Stop and Shop to pick up some additional supplies. Joe found four Iridium phones at the firehouse, in the radio room, still plugged in to their chargers, but testing showed each of them had very little residual charge remaining. Putting all the phones, a charger, and charging cables into his pack, he then started checking the trucks.
His immediate target of the trucks is the EQ truck, which not only is the most useful all-around truck, it also has a separate internal generator. He was leery of starting the main engine in the below-freezing temperatures, but the separate generator should be safer to try. If it failed, the truck itself would not be ruined.
The first thing Joe did was to open all the bay doors and back door, to assure adequate ventilation. Once that was set, he checked all he could of the generator. Checking fluid levels was not easy without hands, but his wing feathers were enough to do the job, if he took his time, which he did. Then and only then did he start the generator.
The electric starter groaned and clicked. “Figures…” he snorted before going to the manual pull cord. Bracing himself, he gave it a yank. Joe promptly lost his balance and fell, picking up a bump and a smudge on his red coat. Getting up, he shook himself and tried again. And again. And again.
It was not until the sixth yank when the generator’s motor let out a cough, a splat, and started up. “All right!” he cheered as the little motor came to life. Quickly, he set the breaker, plugged in a phone charger, and set a phone in. The charging light blinked on, denoting success. Joe promptly found a power bar, plugged it in, then dug out a fire radio charging rack, with four batteries in it. He plugged that in and let the batteries charge. While that ran, he searched the fire house some, going for spare radios. He had his own, but he wanted one for Lindsay. The walkie-talkies she had were weak and were hard to manipulate in his wings or hooves. Even the firehouse ones, he could not work well when in flight. He needed to find extension microphones which he could grip in his hoof. He found one, in the chief’s office. With only a little reluctance, he took it, checking it would fit into his radio. Lindsay could operate her radio with her aura, something Joe did not have, obviously.
While the generator ran, Joe checked out some of the other trucks, namely the two Patrol vans. One is an older van, the other a newer minibus, both used to transport firefighters to and from fire scenes. Safety rules in the past twenty years have led to needing the vans, rather than having firefighters hanging on to the tailgates of the trucks. Joe examined the Patrol van first, it being bigger in capacity, yet having a seat where with a little back-door engineering, could be modified to be driven by a little pony.
Two hours went by as Joe worked, the little generator humming away. He decided the Patrol van would be just right to drive, with some modifications. He checked over the motor and tires, not starting the van until he could replace the battery with a new one. Fortunately, there were places he could nick a battery, like at the Costco or the Target, but that would be for later. He shut down the generator before the fuel tank went dry, making a note to see about getting some more fuel soon.
Once the firehouse was locked up, Joe then flew to the Stop and Shop, going in to select some products for dinner, along with cat food for Trixie. When he was done, his pack was full, but flying proved to be no problem at all, despite the weight and bulk. Landing by Lindsay’s garage door, he knocked for entrance, which was swiftly answered.
Joe unloaded his bag in the warm room, Lindsay having fetched more firewood and built up the fire. She put on some pots of snow to melt down for cooking while Joe explained about the radios, putting fresh batteries in them as well as the phones. Lindsay turned on the main radio, to wait for the Manhattan broadcast, which generally happened around sunset.
Over a dinner of macaroni and cheese, livened up with spices, they listened to the broadcast, which lasted for about half an hour, explaining about the campsite in Central Park, finding out two more ponies had been found that day, bringing the camp population up to sixty-one. The broadcast did mention they were having problems finding enough food, having cleared out the immediate area and having to wander farther afield to find enough, the snow-filled streets making driving about risky at best, despite the lack of traffic.
As Joe wondered why they did not roam the subway system, the announcer mentioned that the subways were by turns either flooded or frozen, making travel down there even more dangerous than driving. “Well, that answers my question,” Joe said around a mouthful of macaroni.
“How about, when we’re done, we call the operator and find out about what this Alexandria place is,” Lindsay suggested.
“Plans like a sound to me, Linds. Some things you’re going to have to show me, how do you do the dishes, where do you dump the used water, and how do you take a shower here?” Joe asked.
“A shower is relatively easy, using a camp shower filled with hot water. The water may not work, but the drains do. Dish washing is done by putting a wash basin on the fire and heating it. As for dumping the water, you may have trouble doing that. My aura can handle that chore. You want to call Alexandria, or shall I?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll also watch you do the chores, so I can do them tomorrow. I like playing fair.”
“So, do I, Joe. Better karma that way.”
When dinner was done, and the dishes cleaned, Joe picked up a satphone. “Just dial the operator, right?” Joe asked.
“That’s what the radio station said.”
Not without hesitation, Joe dialed the operator. To his surprise, the phone started to ring. After seven rings, someone picked it up. “Iridium operator. This is Joe. What’s going on now?” a rather harried voice said.
“Joe, I’m Joe Velloti, of Nanuet, New York. I just came to last night, and I found another person who told me about you. If I may ask, what the hell happened to everyone?” Joe said.
“Great, another one. Hang on, let me find someone who has the time to talk. I don’t,” came over the phone before some incredibly atrocious Muzak started playing.
“Remind me to grab my phone and mp3 player tomorrow from my place. This music sucks.”
“I totally agree. We’re going to want to nick a generator from somewhere, so I can charge my iPod,” Lindsay agreed.
“We can check out Home Depot, Target and Costco tomorrow. At least we won’t have to worry about traffic nor trains anymore,” Joe muttered as the incredibly bad ‘music’ came out of the satphone speaker. “You check any of those places out yet?”
Lindsay looked embarrassed. “No, none of them. I only raided the Stop and Shop because I was hungry. I did not want to break into any place else on my own. The mere thought scared me.”
Joe put a wing around Lindsay. “It’s okay. You’re not alone now.”
“Neither are you, Joe,” Lindsay said, nuzzling Joe.
“That’s something I have to remember,” he replied, nuzzling back.
“Hello? Is anypony there?” came a young lady’s voice from the phone.
They both blinked at the voice, but Joe was the fastest to recover. “Yeah. I’m Joe Velloti, and I’m here with Lindsay Taylor. What the hell happened to the planet?” Joe asked.
“Long story short, a spell put upon the planet’s population to save us from magic radiation, turning us all into ponies. I’m Cloudy Skies. Where are you, and what are you? Pegasus, Unicorn, earth pony, or something else?”
“I’m a pegasus, and Lindsay is a unicorn. I just woke up sometime before dawn today, while Lindsay has been back since early December. We’re in a small town about twenty miles from New York City, with over a foot of snow on the ground.
“As far as I can see, we have three choices, once I can get some transport going. Go to where you are, head down to the City, or go all the way up to Toronto. For that matter, where are you, Cloudy Skies?” Joe asked.
“On maps, where we are at is called Paris, Illinois. We renamed the city ‘Alexandria’, because of the library of books we have from Equestria. Just what did you do for a living?”
“I’m a chemical engineer at a major pharmaceutical company here, while Lindsay is a second-year nursing student. I’m also a firefighter here, officer status. Any idea on where the best place for us would be to go?” Joe asked.
“That’s going to be up to you. I can give you the phone numbers for both the New York and the Toronto groups, and you can call them to decide. Here, we intend to become a center of learning, what with all the books we have. Ready to swap numbers?”
Lindsay broke out a pad of paper and a pen. Holding them in her glow, she nodded to Joe. “Ready when you are, Cloudy Skies.”
When all the phone numbers were exchanged, Cloudy Skies went on. “I have to go help Olive make dinner for everypony. Keep your phone near, and we’ll call when I have more time. You can call when you have more questions to ask, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan to me, Cloudy. We’ll keep in touch. Eight-Nine out,” Joe said as the connection ended.
“Eight-Nine?” Lindsay asked.
“My radio code number in the fire department. First Assistant Chief Chauffeur, meaning I’m one of the four officers detailed to make sure the trucks keep running. My father is Eight-Two, the first assistant chief,” Joe explained. “Since I became an officer, it’s been a habit I find hard to break when I’m on the phone or radio.”
“We all have our quirks. Now that THAT’s done with for tonight, how about we go to sleep and conserve candle light? That’s one thing we’re going to need to get, more candles and batteries. I’ll put a tub of water on the hearth and bank the fire, so we can have hot showers in the morning.”
“That’s not a bad idea, Linz. You lead, I follow, so I’ll know what to do.”