//------------------------------// // Chapter 58 // Story: Unshaken // by The 24th Pegasus //------------------------------// The pale green of dry leaves and the chattering of birds and other wildlife left Kestrel feeling extremely disoriented when she woke up the following morning. Her wing moved for the revolvers by her side, and when her feathers brushed over the comforting feel of the wooden grips, she let out a sigh and slowly sat up. Her anxiety died back down as she saw the familiar faces of the Gang getting set for the morning routine around their new camp, and after a wide yawn, she forced herself to her hooves to join them. Tumbleweed and Roughshod had already started on their morning oatmeal, their chairs pulled to one side of the weathered wooden table so they could watch the sunrise over the lake. Kestrel snatched a tin bowl from the supply wagon and filled it up with oatmeal as well, dropping it on the table by Tumbleweed’s side and pulling over a stool to sit and eat. “Mornin’, fellers,” was all she said before her lips closed around the first spoonful of oats. “And what a fine one it is,” Tumbleweed said with a pleased little turn to his lips. “A fine mornin’ of opportunity for all of us. Today is the start of a brand new day, Kessie, a brand new day filled with brand new opportunities.” Roughshod scoffed and brushed aside his empty bowl. “Didn’t you say somethin’ like that back in Rock Ridge?” “I did, and we robbed a train and stole tens of thousands of bits,” Tumbleweed retorted. “And that was outside of a little podunk town. Hoofston is a city, and cities got all sorts of things goin’ for ‘em. We just gotta sniff ‘em out.” “Cities also got lotta law.” Roughshod crossed his forelegs and seemed to glare in the direction of civilization that the Gang now found themselves so close to. “How long you figure we can stay hidden from ‘em all? Some wall somewhere’s gotta have our faces on it.” “It’s a risk we’re gonna have to take,” Tumbleweed said. He picked up his bowl in his magic and drained the last directly into his muzzle, then set it aside. After chewing and swallowing, he wiped his lips on the back of his fetlock. “We gotta all accept one thing,” he said, looking between Roughshod and Kestrel. “We are all but past the point of remainin’ anonymous. That fly-der nest we kicked up with the military and the Vipers in Rock Ridge? That’s gotta be fresh on the lips of everypony within a hundred miles of this place. They’re gonna be on the lookout for troublemakers.” “They knew he me and Rough was that night we was lookin’ for Wanderer,” Kestrel said, and Roughshod nodded as well. “They knew us by name. That means the Pinks is gonna know we all was in Rock Ridge. Things are gonna be plenty dangerous for us.” “With any luck, the Pinks won’t know which way we went,” Tumbleweed said. “Least for a little while. I reckon we got one free move we can take ‘fore they know loosely where we are. So we gotta make it count.” “So what’s our plan?” Tumbleweed stared off to the east, chewing on his lip as he thought. “We’re low on supplies,” he finally said. “We’ve got all the water and wood we need at this camp—it’s a good spot for that—but we’re gonna need things in town. Food mostly, plus some other miscellaneous things we can only get from the fine factories of civilization.” “Ammo, most definitely,” Kestrel agreed. “We probably burned through most of what we had for the Chatter gun, and I know I’m runnin’ low on bullets for my revolvers.” “You should try usin’ the repeaters more often,” Roughshod teased. “We got plenty of rounds for those.” “I can’t shoot two repeaters at once, now can I?” Kestrel shot back. “Besides, I leave the long guns to Snapshot. He gets the most use outta them all.” “That’s true enough,” Tumbleweed said. “But we ain’t just goin’ into town to get supplies. This’ll be our chance to snoop about and learn some things. I figure we send Trixie and her wagon into town to load up for us; she ain’t been with us very long, and she ain’t picked up any attention from the law yet. Miss Irons and Wanderer will go with her and see what gossip they can overhear at the stores. Maybe they’ll be able to find somethin’ good for us.” “You ain’t worried ‘bout Wanderer gettin’ found out?” Roughshod asked. “After what went down in Rock Ridge, he’s gotta be as infamous as the rest of us.” “Nopony’ll look twice at two elderly ponies and their younger companion,” Tumbleweed assured him. “The rest of us, on the other hoof, risk drawin’ attention.” Kestrel frowned at the table. “So we’re just sittin’ here, then?” “No, not at all.” Tumbleweed gestured over his shoulder, toward the center of camp. “Snapshot and Rough’ll stay here with Silvie to keep her and the camp safe from discovery. We also need to get a good feel on how popular this lake is durin’ the day; if we gotta deal with picnickers, I want to know before they stumble across us on accident.” Then he winked at Kestrel. “You and me, Kessie, we’re goin’ into town separate from Wanderer and the others. We’ll snoop about, see what we can find. Might chance across an opportunity if we look long enough.” “You two ain’t worried ‘bout bein’ caught?” Roughshod asked. “You’re almost more recognizable than me!” Kestrel’s gut seemed uneasy—she had to agree with Roughshod there. “He’s got a fair point,” she told Tumbleweed. “We might not be hulkin’ draft horses like Rough here, but anypony who knows who we is is gonna recognize us on sight.” She held out one of her gray and brown spotted wings for emphasis. “I ain’t exactly got the most subtle colorin’, y’know. Most pegasi’re just a solid color or two.” Tumbleweed only smiled back at her. “So we stuff you in a dress to hide your wings so ponies think you’re just an earth pony. They’re gonna be lookin’ for a pegasus outlaw, not a rancher’s wife.” Roughshod burst out laughing. “This again? Oh, Celestia, I remember that night in Marephis when the two of you pulled that stunt.” “It got us the key to that carriage tycoon’s safe, did it not?” Kestrel rolled her eyes. “At least playin’ the rancher’s wife I won’t have to make small talk ‘bout fashion and gossip with other mares. That whole thing woulda fallen apart if I didn’t realize that stallion’s wife was hittin’ on me and capitalize on that.” “See? We’ve had success with that before.” Tumbleweed picked up his bowl and stood up, stretching his neck. “If ponies are lookin’ for us, they’re gonna be lookin’ for who they think we are. They ain’t gonna be lookin’ for two earth ponies, a husband and wife come to town for the day. They’ll be lookin’ for a unicorn and pegasus outlaw. Let ‘em look, I say. ‘Specially if we get Trixie to gussie up our looks with some of her illusions.” Kestrel looked across the camp to where the blue unicorn had just begun to sleepily bumble out from behind her wagon. “Those illusions are really somethin’,” she said. “Glad we added her to our family.” “You’re right ‘bout that one.” Tumbleweed gestured toward her with a tilt of his head. “Let’s go get things movin’, then we’ll think ‘bout where we better start lookin’. We’ll have all day, so we should be able to make a few stops about town—supposing we don’t run into no trouble.” “You know trouble’ll find us soon enough,” Kestrel said, but she nevertheless finished off the rest of her oatmeal and stood up after Tumbleweed. As she chucked the dirty tin aside, her mind already started wandering to the likely places to investigate in a city such as Hoofston. 1.     The bank. A city such as Hoofston’s gotta have a bank where the ‘civilized’ ponies like to keep their bits. It ain’t a big town so there’s likely only one bank, but it’ll be big enough to handle the needs of everypony in town. 2.     The rail station. Train robberies’ve always been kind to us. Might as well stick with what works and see what we can find. 3.     Downtown. Hoofston’s a city, which means it’s got a downtown. If ever there was a place to get a hoof on the city’s pulse and the latest news, we just gotta head on down and start eavesdroppin’. 4.     The capitol. The larger the town, the greater the stink of corruption. We might find somethin’ interestin’ down by the capitol buildin’, whether that be work or just a lead on some wealthy politician we can clean out one way or another. 5.     The industrial sector. Hoofston’s large enough to have a few factories and warehouses, and while raw goods ain’t much use to us, things like bonds and the ponies that own them—the tycoons themselves—are worth a lotta money with a little stealin’ or foalnappin’.