Bill was quick to react, kneeling down in front of Applejack and hugging her close, which also had the aided effect of hiding the sight before her.
“Shh, shh, Jackie, it’s okay.”
“No it ain’t!” she shouted into his shoulder, partly muffled, “there’s one of yer human bodies hangin’ from tha ceilin’!”
“I know, I saw it too. Just, deep breath, okay?”
There was silence.
“Okay?”
Hesitantly, the mare nodded, then moved her muzzle so it was pointed down, while the top of her head continued to push into his shoulder, and the bill of her hat pulled up to stay on top. She took a deep breath in, then let it out. Doing this nine more times, she tried to back away, but Bill’s arms were still holding her close.
“Are you good?” he asked quietly, calmly.
“I think so. Just… it took me by surprise.”
Slowly, Bill removed his arms from her back, and allowed the mare to sit on her haunches, leaning away, and her wide eyes instantly went to the dangling figure.
Gulping, Bill turned around to do the same, and grimaced.
“That’s… not very welcoming,” he said.
“No, it ain’t.”
“A warning, perhaps?”
Shaking her head, Applejack pointed a hoof at the chair. “Doubt it, unless they staged that, why would ya do that to scare off folks?”
Bill hadn’t removed his eyes from the body, but slowly, he stood up, and approached.
“Bill?” she asked.
“Weird, he doesn’t smell. It’s almost like he’s mummified.”
“Ya sure it’s a he?”
“No boobs, so not a chick.”
“Boobs? Oh.” The mare looked down at herself, then back up to Bill. “Guessin’ they’re in a different spot than me, huh?”
“One crazy thing at a time, please,” Bill said, paused, then gave her a strange look, “but yes, you’d be correct. More up here,” he motioned with his hands against his chest, like he was holding two balls in his hands.
“Gotcha.”
“Funny though, look at what he’s wearing.”
Slowly, Applejack stood, then walked closer to Bill, but kept her distance. “How come?”
“He’s wearing what’s basically business attire, even has a red tie. And those shoes,” he whistled.
“What’s weird ‘bout it?”
“Well, I know you’re more au naturel, but I basically woke up in what I had gone to sleep in. And I’d bet you anything Flint is the same.”
“So what, this feller… fell asleep in his business suit?”
“I’d say so, possibly traveling.”
Finally looking away, Bill surveyed around the room, until he spotted something on a table.
“What’s this?” he said out loud, walking over.
Applejack was quick to follow.
Placing her hooves on the table edge so she could see, all that was there was a folded piece of paper, and resting on top was some sort of golden ring.
Bill picked up the ring, inspecting it.
“Over Hill, Over Dale, Our Love Will Ever Fail it reads,” Bill set the ring down, then picked up the paper.
Using her hoof, Applejack pulled the ring closer to inspect it. “This a weddin’ ring?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh, shouldn’t it be then, Our Love Will Never Fail?”
“I guess? I suppose you have similar customs?”
She nodded. “Yeah, usually horn rings like this size. Some ponies like hoof bracelets, or even earrings.” She gave the ring a flick with her hoof, making it spin. “My parents used tree seeds, planted them side by side.”
A few moments went by, and Bill hadn’t responded.
“Bill?” she asked.
He was intently reading the paper, gripping it in his hands, eyes going side to side.
Walking on her hind legs, and using the table for support, Applejack moved closer and tapped his arm.
“Sugarcube?”
Bill blinked, looking at Applejack, then back to the letter. “Sorry, it’s just…” he gulped.
“What’s the matter? Is it somethin’ he said? Did?”
“Yes, to both. Here, you can read it. I… need a moment.”
After handing the mare the letter, Bill slowly walked outside, keeping a good distance from the hanging body, and stopped near the door where he saw a pair of unlaced work boots. He reached down, picked them up, and continued outside, leaving the door open.
Applejack watched him intently, and once he was out of sight, her eyes couldn’t help but look at the dangling form.
There was something eerily about the body, especially considering the layer of dust that clung to him and his clothing. Bill’s apt description of mummified was spot on, but it also reminded her of whenever she’d find a dead mouse in her barn. Like it had been dehydrated, and strangely preserved. Fluttershy never cried when she’d come retrieve them, giving them a burial, even if she didn’t recognize who they were.
A scary thought struck her, causing a shiver down her spine.
If we die here, is that what happens ta us?
Shaking her head, Applejack sat on her haunches, holding the letter in her hooves. It took up the whole page, neatly written with a style that showed efficiency and speed, yet clarity as any letters which shared shape or size were distinctly dissimilar. It reminded her much like Filthy Rich’s quill work.
—-------
I’m done with this place. These others, it’s stupid. Crazy. Meeting two brightly colored miniature horses that could talk was one thing, but trying to say the way to escape was by hauling logs? Even I have enough brains to know that’s all bologna, and I’d know, I barely got through college yet I got a Wall Street job like I’d been in the business all my life.
I thought I was crazy when I woke up in that pumpkin patch, but then I found a unicorn. No joke, he said he was, and didn’t know what a human was. Star-something, I forget, but he just insisted on calling him Star. Not that I cared, figured I’d had a bad bag of peanuts and too much wine on my flight.
Thank God I didn’t kick off my shoes like I was going to, but after having one pair stolen mid-flight, you don’t do it again. Still, once we were sure we weren’t going to hurt each other, we started to walk around. He kept using his magic, which I still say is stupid, but he was the supposed teacher in some special unicorn school, so he was the “expert”.
Before long, we stumbled upon the other two, another pony without a horn, and a younger woman, big tits on her God damn. Farm girl, too, by her tight fitting jeans that left nothing to the imagination, and button up plaid shirt. AND a blonde, Lord almighty if I was twenty years younger.
Yeah, and if you’re reading this Sarah I don’t care. You’re as crazy as the ponies, bet you even did sleep with Hornless you hussy. Hopefully none of you find this, even though I know Star goes to that tower way out behind this place for his research, but he tends to, of all things, teleport there.
I don’t even know why I’m writing this, I suppose there's just too much on my mind, things to settle before I do this. Man, just when I thought dealing with those strikers out on Wall Street last week however many months ago now was bad enough, this was a whole different thing. I mean, really, Occupy Wall Street? What do you think will even come from this?
We tried to leave. We’ve found vehicles, fuel, and even some sort of garage which should be impossible. We gathered supplies, loaded up a truck, and headed out. Then, we hit a wall. An invisible wall. That got Star all in a tizzy. He tried to walk past, but couldn’t. He poked it with his magic, but felt nothing.The next month, we all took turns trying different directions, following the wall.
Hornless drew it out, as he had begun taking all sorts of notes on things, and came to a horrible realization, and showed us. We’re trapped here, in this prison, invisible walls of nothing boxing us in.
The others wanted to settle in the garage, ration up and make plans. I followed along at first, only because I didn’t know what else to do. Now that I think about it, I left my briefcase in my room, but oh well, what good is it now? Blackberry died two days into being here, and it did no good anyway.
The next month, both Hornless and Sarah started to go out and explore together, and check some other areas. Yeah, and I’m sure you two explored a whole lot of one another. Fucking disgusting. Then you two them two said they think they knew what was needed to do, like an actual objective.
They’d found some logging equipment, a map in one of the trucks, and with nothing else to do here, moved some lumber. It took them weeks, but they got a load there, and said something about it felt right. I vaguely remember making a remark about something else feeling “just right” between them and dropping a load.
I didn’t realize how hard a miniature horse could punch, but that was it for me.
My jaw quit hurting a week ago, but now I’ve been staring out the window here, staring down the road, waiting for one of them to come. I took one of the larger trucks, forgot to shut it off after a few days and ran it out of fuel. Oh well, like I give two shits.
I guess I have one regret? Sorry about that night in Vegas, Cheryl. It wasn’t anything personal, you understand, but boys will be boys. I miss you, babe. Love you, even, and while I feel like we’d gotten bored with each other, now I see things differently.
I’m done. I got one bottle of Vodka left, gonna polish this down and see if I can get the guts up to do it this time. I’ve tried three times already, and wussed out. Enough’s enough.
Fuck this place, fuck you all, and if you’re NOT one of them three reading this, then welcome to Hell, and make peace with yourself. I did, and I finally feel ready to go.
-Donald
—-------
Slowly, Applejack lowered the letter, then looked around the floor, and finally under the table like it had rolled there, was a mostly empty bottle of vodka.
Same label as the ones in their fridge.
She looked at the hanging body again, with a whole new attitude.
Scowling, she folded the letter again, and sticking it under her hat she began to leave, not even bothering with avoiding the body, she just ignored it outright.
Once outside, she found Bill leaning against the 469, forehead resting against his right forearm, as he took deep breaths.
“Bill? You a’right?”
He just nodded, not looking at her or saying anything.
Approaching closer, she placed a hoof on his right thigh. “Bill? Are ya gonna be okay?”
At that, he smiled, then looked at her with sad eyes. “I don’t know, will you? Will Flint, or our mystery fourth?” Finally, he shook his head. “This is fucked. I don’t want to believe it, I want to drive away and just leave, but… why would he lie in a letter like that?”
Applejack removed the letter from under her hat, then placed both hooves against it, and concentrated.
“He didn’t lie,” Applejack said, eyes still closed and a frown on her muzzle.
“How sure are you?”
She opened her eyes, then looked at the human, “Perfectly sure. Honesty is my thing, and I’m confident this were written honestly.”
“Right, yeah, sure.”
“Do we tell Flint?” Applejack asked.
Bill drummed his thumbs against the fabric top, looking past the vehicle. “Good question. Or do we just tell him part of it?”
Applejack put her back to the vehicle, then sat down and leaned her back against it, rubbing her forehead with both hooves. “I dunno, I’m too tired ta think. This ain’t what I expected.”
“Same. Well, part of me wants to just hit it now, but I found those boots, so maybe there’s something else he left in that house.”
“Yeah, but it feels more like a tomb than a house.”
Bill nodded, then reached into the open window of the vehicle and grabbed one of the boots, inspecting the tag. “Well, one size too big, but I can make that work.”
They were both quiet for some time, then Applejack coughed, cleared her throat, and shakily spoke.
“Do… do ya think they made it?”
The context wasn’t clear, but Bill picked up on it quick enough, playing with the tongue of the boot.
“I don’t know. We haven’t seen any reason to suspect they are still around like… him.” Bill thumbed back towards the house.
Both were quiet once more, then finally Bill tossed the boot into the back again. “Screw it, we can come back when we have the fuel for that other truck. Let's see if we can go find that fuel station, or whatever it is. Then maybe we’ll have something thought up to tell Flint.”
“A’right. Just make sure we don’t get stuck again.”
“Hah!”
Applejack walked back to the house, and looked inside one more time, staring at the body, then gently closed the door. She returned to the 469, the passenger side door already open, and hopped in, closing the door behind her.