//------------------------------// // Chapter 41 // Story: Unshaken // by The 24th Pegasus //------------------------------// Sneak into town and find Wanderer: 17 Votes After what felt like an eternity, Tumbleweed pulled his revolvers out of their holsters, checked that they were loaded, and slipped them back in. “We’re gonna find him,” he said. “We’ll slip into town and take a look, see what we can find. That rat of a mayor’s probably got more deputies than he knows what to do with in that oversized sheriff’s office, so the last thing we wanna do is get caught in a shootout. ‘Specially not with our two fine lasses still smartin’ some from the train robbery.” “I’m fine,” Kestrel insisted, though she still winced when she touched the scar over her gut. “It ain’t gonna slow me down.” “Me neither,” Silver proclaimed, though Kestrel noted she still favored her injured leg, and the bullet wound hadn’t healed as quickly or as cleanly as her own injuries. It wasn’t anything to worry about, yet still enough that it might impede her ability to move freely around in a shootout. Still, Kestrel knew that neither of their statements to the contrary were likely to sway Tumbleweed’s mind. But on the other hoof, it wasn’t like he could go without the only two fliers he had right now. “We’ll do our best to avoid any tusslin’,” he said. “First things first, we’re gonna move out of here, take our wagons to the east end of Rock Ridge, hide them somewhere back a bit from the road. We don’t have the luxury of time, and we ain’t gonna get the opportunity to come back here first, grab all our things, and leave after we find what happened to Wanderer. After that, we approach the town from all sides, soon as it’s dark. Everypony’s workin’ in pairs, nopony gets caught out alone.” Silver immediately turned her head toward Kestrel. “I’m with you,” she said, smiling. But Tumbleweed shook his head. “Silvie, you’re with me. No use puttin’ both our fliers together in case somethin’ bad happens. No use puttin’ both our injured ponies in one place as well.” He turned to Kestrel. “Kessie, you take Rough and start on the north end of town after you two get the wagon hidden. Silvie and I will start on the south. Snapshot, you recall the church on the east end of town?” The Gang’s best gun nodded as his only response. “Good. Take one of them fancy rifles Silvie liberated for us and get up in the steeple. Should have a clear view of the whole town from there. We get in trouble, we’re gonna make our way toward you and get to the wagons as fast as we can.” “And if we don’t have Wanderer yet?” Roughshod asked. Tumbleweed frowned. “I ain’t gonna consider the possibility. We get Wanderer out, and then we go. We swore an oath to stay loyal to each other ‘til our dyin’ breaths. I ain’t gonna back out on that oath now, ‘cause I sure know Wanderer would do the same for me.” Quiet murmurs of agreement rose up from the rest of the Gang, at least until Trixie dared to raise her voice. “What about the Great and Powerful Trixie?” she asked. “What will she be doing?” Tumbleweed squinted at her. “Work on your showmare act, first of all,” he said, garnering a few chuckles from the rest of the outlaws. Then: “Stay with the wagons and protect them with Miss Irons until we return. We need to make sure our getaway is safe.” Though Trixie grumbled at Tumbleweed’s criticism, Kestrel could tell by the way she relaxed her shoulders that she was relieved to not be anywhere near the town and the fighting that might or might not break out within. “As you say,” she said, though she wilted when she caught sight of Miss Iron’s perpetually stern face. “Trixie will do her best to keep the wagons protected until your triumphant return.” “Good.” The Gang’s leader looked over his assembled members. “Any more questions or comments?” “We better start movin’,” Kestrel said. “The sooner we get everythin’ in position, the better.” When nopony else had anything to say to that, Tumbleweed nodded. “Right. Let’s move out, then.” So they did, packing up what little was left and hitching themselves up to the wagons in the pairs they’d planned. Kestrel frowned as Roughshod slid into the harness next to her, and Roughshod returned the look. “Let’s just get this shit over with,” he grunted as they began to pull the wagon full of gold and supplies together. “We better not be dyin’ for Wanderer’s sake.” “I’d happily trade you for him,” Kestrel fired back. The stallion scoffed. “You’d take a wizened ol’ pegasus over a fit earth pony like myself? Didn’t know you thought like that, Kessie.” “Oh it ain’t that, I got nothin’ against the other races,” Kestrel said. “He’s just much easier on the eyes and don’t smell as foul as his temper.” “Funny. Maybe you should do vaudeville for that magician’s show. I think you’d look real pretty in a slimming red dress.” “Aw shucks, Rough, I think you’d be prettier. Maybe I’ll getcha one for Hearth’s Warming.” The stallion snorted and carefully steered the wagon down the road out of camp, using his strength to keep the heavy load from careening out of control and off the side of the cliff. “Be better than the presents my mama used to give me. Old bitch had nothin’ but harsh words and harsher hooves for me any hour of the day.” “Yours too?” Kestrel chuckled. “My mama was a ragin’ drunk and my pa blew everythin’ we had at Las Pegasus. There weren’t never any presents for me and my little brother.” “Hmph. Well, maybe Hoofston’ll give us somethin’ a few months early for the effort.” “We can only hope.” The wagons rumbled on largely in silence after that, the tension hanging in the air snuffing out any idle chatter and camaraderie. Kestrel found her attention focused wholly on scanning the rocks and scraggly bushes of the desert around them for Vipers lying in wait, but she never saw anything of the sort. She held her breath and readied herself to break from her harness and fight when a stagecoach went by in the opposite direction, but if the two ponies sitting on the seat recognized her from any posters, they didn’t show it. All was quiet along the road until Rock Ridge was behind them and they started their way east. About two miles outside of town, Tumbleweed led them down to a gulley off to the left of the road, hidden between the foothills of two mesas and difficult to outflank if it came down to it. They left the wagons there, and Kestrel had Trixie put the left side of her wagon toward the road, where they could drop the stage and use the Chatter gun to fire on anypony coming over the rise. Once that was settled, Tumbleweed left Trixie and Miss Irons to keep everything under control until they returned, and the Gang’s five able bodies set back toward Rock Ridge. They split up a mile away from the town, and Kestrel flew up a bit as the moon started to rise to make sure all was clear on the ground around them. When she saw nothing, she returned to Rougshod and readied her revolvers, one loosened ever so slightly from its holster so she could draw it in the blink of an eye if need be. But they didn’t encounter any trouble approaching the town, and soon the two outlaws found themselves waiting behind a chicken coop at the edge of town, watching the buildings from afar. “How we’re supposed to find Wanderer in this mess I ain’t got a clue,” Roughshod grunted. “Town’s too big.” “The town has two damn streets,” Kestrel reminded him. “It’s hardly more than a homestead.” “Two damn streets and more houses than there are us,” he retorted. “Plus, they could’ve taken him anywhere.” “That’s why we find somepony who knows what happened to him, maybe overhear somethin’ or beat it out of ‘em.” Her eyes scanned the buildings in the darkness, and she frowned at each in turn. “We got the general store, the saloon, and the doctor’s office on this end. Tumbleweed and Silvie said they was gonna hit the post office first, see if anypony saw him come through there.” “Well, where are we goin’ then, Miss Kestrel?” Roughshod asked her in a tone thick of mock respect. “You’re Tumbleweed’s number two, I’m just a grunt followin’ orders.” “Will you shut up?” Kestrel growled in exasperation. “You been with us longer than anypony else. Now, where should we hit first?” 1.     The general store. Most common place ponies of all kinds go to. Everypony needs somethin’ or other, and maybe Wanderer was here earlier to get some last minute supplies for the road. 2.     The saloon. If there was anyplace we was gonna find Vipers, it’d be at the saloon. Might be able to find one and beat what we need outta him, but the saloon’s also where all the bounty hunters and tough characters’ll be hangin’ out, ‘specially this late at night. 3.     The doctor’s office. If Wanderer got hurt, might be he visited the doc ‘fore slippin’ away. Might be the best place to check first to make sure he ain’t hurt. 4.     Sit back and wait. Clock’s tickin’ away, but we still got time left on the face for somethin’ to develop… right?