Unshaken

by The 24th Pegasus


Chapter 128

It was a long road to New Oatleans.

The cities weren’t close together, though Kestrel already knew that much. It would take the Gang a week to walk from Hoofston to their destination. But knowing what they were running from, just how close on their tails the Pinks were, made it feel like a lifetime, not seven days. Every morning when Kestrel took wing to watch over her friends on the ground, and every night when she landed to catch some sleep, she wondered just how far behind them the Pinks were. No matter how quiet the days were, no matter how desolate the road, sometimes she swore that they were only an hour or two behind them, that any minute she’d see pink suits bursting through the trees after them.

Those seven days did leave Kestrel with plenty of time to try and solve the cold calculus and figure out just how far away from the Pinks the Gang had managed to slip. It only would have taken a day, maybe two, for the Pinks to realize that the Gang was no longer in Hoofston. From there, they only realistically had two choices to figure out where the Gang was going: west back to Rock Ridge, or east to New Oatleans. And considering the ruckus that the Gang had caused back in Rock Ridge, the Pinks would have been right to assume that their quarry wasn’t keen on doubling back into the chaos. So that just left New Oatleans as the only likely destination, and Kestrel had a feeling that they wouldn’t stay out of notice of the Pinks in that city for long.

She had expressed as much with Tumbleweed whenever the Gang stopped for the night. Though the events in Hoofston had strained their relationship some, Kestrel was willing to put all that nonsense aside and just work with Tumbleweed as his right hoof mare, as she always had done. The survival of the Gang depended on their leaders working together, and thankfully, both realized that. Regularly consulting the map and figuring out what each day of travel would look like helped them to keep the wagons moving and maintain as much distance between the pursuing Pinks as they could, even despite their heavy load.

But even if Kestrel had started to recover some sense of normalcy from her strained relationship with Tumbleweed, she could feel that what happened in Hoofston had left some black marks on her relations with the rest of the Gang. Miss Irons refused to speak to her, or most anypony else in the Gang, after what happened to Wanderer. Roughshod was still furious and heartbroken over Trixie’s death, but instead of blaming Kestrel for it, the earth pony blamed Tumbleweed for taking the Gang and running away instead of going back into Hoofston and burning down every Apple factory and workshop they could find in the city. Even Silver Wings seemed especially troubled by the breakdown in relations in the Gang, and her once cheerful, energetic self spent most of her evenings moping by herself away from the group. Kestrel soon found out that the younger pegasus had been snatching whiskey bottles from the Gang’s supply and trying to drown her troubles that way, but Kestrel didn’t have the heart to confront the poor mare about it. After all, she couldn’t blame her, and to get on Silvie’s case about it would only make her a hypocrite in front of the pony that adored her.

The only two members of the Gang who seemed unaffected by what went down at Hoofston were Snapshot and Gizmo, though that didn’t surprise Kestrel that much. Gizmo didn’t appear to have anything resembling the ability to mimic emotions, and upon noticing that Wanderer had died, had decided that Tumbleweed would be the new pony she answered to, given that Applejack had made her Wanderer’s property before. And as for Snapshot, well, he wasn’t all that much different from Gizmo, considering he always kept his thoughts and emotions to himself. The most Kestrel had been able to glean out of him was how he always volunteered for first watch at night, and often wouldn’t even bother waking up somepony else for second watch. Whether he blamed himself for failing to see the pony that ultimately killed Wanderer, or not being fast enough to save Trixie, or something else entirely, Kestrel couldn’t say. All she knew was that Snapshot was trying to cope with it in his own way; they all were.

As the Gang ventured further and further to the east and south, the landscape around them began to change from the dry, arid lands of Hoofston to the humid and low swamps and marshes of New Oatleans. The mosquitos in particular, which hadn’t been all that much of a problem in Hoofston, grew exponentially worse as the roads took them through the lonely bits of dry and high ground that meandered between the swamps and bayous. Sweat clung to Kestrel’s clothing instead of swiftly evaporating in the dry Hoofston heat, and she soon decided that she already hated the area. She could only hope that the Pinks, stuck in the pink suits that gave them their name, would be suffering even more than the Gang already was.

Of course, it wasn’t until an alligator tried to eat Silver when she went down to the edge of a nearby marsh to take a leak that it really settled in for the Gang that they weren’t in Hoofston anymore. Thankfully, Silver had wings and jumped into the air as soon as she heard the hiss coming in behind her. It was something that was terrifying in the moment, but later that night, it was something the Gang could laugh about. Kestrel was thankful for that, at least. They needed whatever levity they could get before they embarked on what was sure to be their hardest go at it yet.

The following morning, with the Gang about a day out from Hoofston, Kestrel and Silver took to the skies to go and find a suitable place to make camp. Higher and higher they flew, until they were well above the treetops, and then they began to circle around the area. To the southeast, the magnificent city of New Oatleans stood at the mouth of the Maressissippi River, its enormous port and docks loading and unloading hundreds of ships every day, whether they be riverboats or seafaring vessels. Prench architecture blended together with Canterlonian design in the buildings rising above the bayous, and even a district of cloud homes hovered just above the rooftops of the tallest buildings in the city. It was an industrial and mercantile marvel, even larger than Hoofston, and far more densely packed.

Silver whistled as they hovered above the marshes and took it all in. “That’s a city if ever I’ve seen one,” she said. “Then again, I ain’t ever been to Canterlot. How’s this compare, Kessie?”

“It’s… moister,” Kestrel said, already feeling the humidity and the morning sun beginning to draw more sweat out of her. “Canterlot’s also on a mountain. Ain’t gonna find nothin’ more splendid than that. But this place is dense enough, it should be able to hide us. Least for a lil’ bit.”

“It better. Else them Pinks’ gonna make short work of us.” Silver looked around, trying to spot any potential hideaways at a distance. “Well, figure we got a couple of places we can try pokin’ ‘round in, right?”

“Right. See anythin’ good?” Kestrel asked her.

“A few things. There’s a bit out there in the marsh—or what do them New Oatleaners call it, the bayou?—where the trees are higher than the rest. Probably higher, drier ground, that. Could be a good place to hide out.”

“Not sure how fond I am of havin’ mosquitos and alligators eatin’ me alive out there,” Kestrel said through a frown. Instead, she turned her attention toward the city. “Plenty of abandoned little shanties and riverports down closer to the city. Might be we can find somethin’ abandoned out there and set it up real nice. That way we’re close to the city, too.”

“But who knows who else could be lurkin’ ‘round there?” Silver countered. “And besides, close to the city might not be all that good, ‘specially if the Pinks find us and round up the police on us.”

“Hrmmmf… Good a point as any.” Kestrel thought for a moment and shrugged in mid air, the action causing her to dip a good few feet before climbing back up to Silver’s side. “Reckon we can check ‘em both out, should we feel like it.”

“So where should we go first then?” Silver asked.

1.     The high ground in the bayou. Might as well see what’s out there in the bayou. Pinks tryin’ to find us in the marsh ain’t gonna have an easy time of it, that’s for sure.

2.     The abandoned buildings by the river. Closer to town, on some dry ground, and maybe even some creature comforts. Could be a nice change of pace from campin’ under the open sky all the time.