Author’s note: For those who didn't read the bio, this is a sequel. I suggest you read the first story (Devil's Due) before reading this one or you will be lost for the first few chapters. I still have no idea how the first story got as popular as it did.
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Five years is a long time, isn’t it? I ask myself that question a lot. I’ve watched everything I’ve built fall apart on me time and time again. Canterlot and the griffons are still unrelenting on my case. They refuse to let me live a peaceful life and therefore, I can’t return home. I’ll continue to hunt them down and roam this desert until this is over or they kill me. Either way, I still win.
-
The bell rang with ear piercing volume as I held the chrome handgun towards the griffon on the other side of the bank’s security bars. He held his claws up as I looked down at him with disgust. I had developed a special hatred for these creatures. The gun I held was my old M1911A1 that I had from when I had originally come here. It bore a large silencer and laser sight that somehow still worked. The red dot sat on the griffon’s chest as he started to get jumpy and paranoid. He wasn’t that old, maybe in his twenties. I looked over my shoulder to see a white pegasus and dark blue earth pony grabbing everything from various safes and drawers. They both wore black armor and were trained by me. The Pegasus was names Atlanta while the earth pony was called Dallas. I had given them those names five years ago when I first trained them. I never wanted to get attached to them but now, they were my only friends in this world with Alex dead.
I looked back at the griffon and he started to calm down a bit. The bank looked like something out of an old west movie. The floors were made of unprotected wood and all the metal was crude iron that was produced locally. I could see a wanted picture on the wall posting a reward of ten thousand bits for Ryan Laney. I smiled as I pointed over at the picture.
“That’s me ya know?” I asked the teller in a jovial tone “Worked hard to get my picture on that.”
The teller tried to fake a smile but couldn’t. “Yeah, I heard about you. You’re that gunslinger they’re always talking about.”
I looked back at my comrades and said “Slow clap for the teller.”
Atlanta and Dallas ignored me as I turned back and said “Guess you don’t have a lot of fans around here.”
The griffon remained silent as Atlanta finished the safe and looked over at me “We are all clear, captain!”
Atlanta was probably my best friend at this point. He was a stallion from Stalliongrad in the days before he defected. He was never above cracking a joke and was always willing to stick by me.
“Roger that.” I replied before turning to the griffon again “Looks like our time will be drawing to a close… tell me, you got family?”
The griffon looked at me like I was crazy before answering “No…?”
“That is too bad.” I said “You should work on that.”
Dallas and Atlanta finished taking all the gold from the safes and tied up their bags, throwing them into saddle bags on their backs, over their black armor. I motioned for them to head outside with a nod of my head. I got a nod from Dallas before both of them ran out the door, the bell ringing on their way out. I looked back at the griffon and thought to myself. Was I the monster they portrayed me as? I wasn’t quite sure anymore, seeing as the lines had blurred. I took a few steps back and kept the gun trained on the griffon, placing my free hand on the door.
“It is your lucky day son.” I said with a grin under my black bandanna.
“Why is that?” The griffon asked as he lowered his wings.
“I’m in a good mood.” I said as I pushed the door open “I’ve decided that you get to live.”
I ran outside and around the corner of the building as the wind blew through my black trench coat and the sun beat down on my black Stetson. The back of my trench coat carried the same mark as my hands, the handgun that sat over top of pile of shells. The only thing that was different on my hands was the tire treads that ran up and down them. All these things brought back memories that I wish I could forget. I still wasn’t sure if I missed Youngstown or not. At least I wouldn’t be running for reasons unknown to me.
I holstered my handgun in a leather loop that I had placed on the inside of my trench coat. Three other handguns sat inside my coat as well. Seeing as they were the only ones currently in existence, they gave me quite the advantage over this world’s residents while also being a curse. It was my job to make sure they never fell into the wrong hands. If they could be reverse-engineered, it would totally upset the balance of power. I slipped on my mirrored aviators and pulled down my black bandanna so that it sat around my neck. My black Hummer H2 sat on the other end of the street. Back when I first brought it here, it was nearly brand new. Now I had torn most of the doors off (they now were strapped to the roof) and had bolstered it with various bits of scrap metal, barbed wire, and a large steel battering ram that had cost me a pretty penny back in Hoofington.
I jogged over to the driver side and grabbed onto the pillar, pulling myself into the seat. I tapped the wheel, turning the engine on with a low growl. The exhaust system was starting to fall apart as was the bumpers and interior. It seemed that anything that wasn’t vital to keeping the SUV moving was going to rust and fall off. With no replacement parts stores around anymore, it wasn’t exactly going to get fixed. Dallas climbed into the front seat as I reached down and wrapped my hand around the gearshift that had broken down to the stick and had a cloth wrapped around it. I looked up into the rearview and saw a few griffon soldiers behind me, running. They were kicking up dust as I shifted into drive with an audible metallic grind and sped off down the dusty desert town road.
The griffons immediately fell behind as I chuckled and rode down the road. The suspension squeaked as the road turned into desert and rock. I looked up at Atlanta through the open sunroof as he kept an eye on the sky for more griffons.
“See anything?” I asked as I swerved around a large brown rock.
“Yeah,” He replied, not looking back at me “Dust, dirt, and horizon.”
“Smartass.” Dallas said, starting to pick up my vocabulary,
“Play nice.” I said as I slowed down at flipped on cruise control “How much did we get?”
“Around twenty thousand bits.” Atlanta specified “More than enough to put a hurting on that town.”
I smiled as I turned the wheel started down a trail towards the next town. I was giddy because my goal wasn’t to kill all the griffons. It was much easier to just wreck their economy. If they were going to hunt me down, they were going to pay for it. We had cased around fifty plus banks in the past few years, only having started around two years after I had fled from Ponyville. It bothered me to think of that place with no hope of going back. I started to wonder what had become of everyone there. Had Twilight finally studied everything there was to be studied and moved on? Had Rarity moved on to bigger and better things in Manehattan? I took one last mental pause before my mind turned to Dash. Had she moved on? Did the next guy give her what I couldn’t? Did she ever join the Wonderbolts? I just shook my head and returned my thoughts to the present.
The road seemed to continue on forever as Atlanta laid back on the roof and closed his eyes. Dallas played with the radio for a minute before it sparked to life and ‘Gimme Shelter’ by the Rolling Stones came on via the CD player. At least the sound system hadn’t gone. I looked in my side view mirror and saw that the old tattered flag was still flapping in the wind, reminding me of my homeland. I turned away and rested my arm on the door, feeling the wind blow on my face, drying up some sweat and cooling me down. The H2 gave a jolt as I hit a decent size rock and continued on towards the campsite.
The sun was starting to fall from the sky as I flicked on my headlights and saw smoke in the distance. I slowed down before pulling off the road, the tires reconnecting with unbeaten dirt. Atlanta woke up and dropped his head down through the sun roof, looking at me.
“Home sweet desert.” He said as he turned his head to the window.
Atlanta pulled his head back through the sunroof opening and yawned as I slowed down and came to a stop. The site consisted of a tent for Dallas and Atlanta as well as a little fire pit. I let the engine die off on the H2 and the engine rumble was replaced my eerie desert silence. Atlanta flew off the SUV and sat down next to the campfire as Dallas jumped out and walked over to the tent, disappearing inside. The radio continued to play the music softly as I leaned back in the seat and pulled my hat over my eyes. I wasn’t anywhere near tired yet, just physically exhausted. I was only twenty six and I had probably covered over two million miles of road. Driving everywhere, every day was tiring but necessary.
I felt a tug on the side of my jacket and looked over lazily, holding my hat up. A small buffalo stood there, staring at me. I remember him. I think his name was Running Wind or something but I had taken to calling him Toby for some odd reason. There wasn’t a particular reason it was just easier to say. He was a native to these parts and always had information for me, sympathizing for my plights. He was a good kid, often talked about how he saw a good aura around me, yada, yada, yada. I don’t subscribe to that mode of thinking. I offered a tired smile at his as he pushed an apple into my lap.
“For last month and my tribe.” He said in a happy tone, paying me back for giving his tribe enough money to buy their herding grounds back.
I never really had a need for money anymore so I figured it was good enough to give it to those who could actually use it. Toby seemed to have a good enough reason for me.
“No prob.” I said as I rotated and hopped out of the truck “I got more for you.”
“I could not-“ He started.
“Lock it down.” I said as I looked down at him “I don’t have a use for it.”
He wanted to protest but figured it useless, I supposed. I walked around to the trunk and pulled the door open, the metal hissing at the hinges. Toby gingerly stepped over, his footsteps barely audible. He stepped to my side as I moved the rifles in the back of the truck over and pulled out two large, heavy bags of coins. I didn’t bother counting it out or anything. I just lifted them onto his back and offered a smile.
“Tell the tribe I wish them well.” I said before closing the door with another metallic hiss.
“I will.” He said, adjusting his back for the weight “Be careful, friend. The griffons have roadblocks and checkpoints along all the western roads leading towards the oceans and grasslands.”
“Thanks Toby.” I said as I gave him a pat on the head “Remember for your own safety; you don’t know me and you are carrying all that cash for your tribe.”
He turned around and started to walk away before giving wave with a forehoof “Safe travels.”
I waved him off before walking over to the fire where Atlanta had passed out. I sat down next to him as night rolled in and the air began to dramatically drop in temperature. Despite the desert’s reputation for heat, it could drop below freezing at night. I warmed up against the small fire and rubbed my hands together. My stomach rumbled as I realize I still had the apple. I grabbed it and held it up, taking a long look at it through my sunglasses. I took a big bite and savored the flavor as I knew it wouldn’t stop my hunger. I had lost about twenty pounds after being on the run for so long, only weighed two hundred now. I always had a big stature standing at six one but I was damn skinny at this weight. I was going to need some real food at some point soon and the desert didn’t really offer a lot of options.
Atlanta curled up next to the fire as I took off my coat and put it over him. I was raised in the American north. Cold was nothing new to me. I patted down the various holsters strapped to my chest, checking my weapons as I stared into the fire, watching the flames dance. I smiled as I saw familiar faces in them and relived happier memories. I could almost hear my father’s voice from when I was four years old, deeper in tone and gentle. I would never imagine him running out on me like he did. I remembered me and him riding around in his old Chevy Caviler. It was a piece of shit but I didn’t care. I was just happy to be with my father.
I heard the fire snap and I jolted back to the real world, my hand resting on one of my P226s that sat in holsters lower on my sides. I quickly settled my nerves and looked up at the stars. I laid down on my back and placed my hands behind my head. I remember in Youngstown, the light pollution was so bad that you could only really see the moon. I guess now I was forced to enjoy the little things, seeing as how I was yanked from my old life. I still harbored resentment for Celestia. I would love nothing more to send a .45 through her skull. I pushed the thought out of my head before pulling my hat over my eyes again. I guessed I had better get some sleep seeing as staying somewhere for the day was not exactly a scholarly idea.
-
I woke up to a light kick in my side. I lifted my hat and saw Atlanta standing over me, obscuring the sun.
“Wakey, wakey.” He said with a grin before walking away, allowing me to be blinded by the sun.
I grimaced as my eyes snapped shut and began to water. I sat forward and put my hat on as well as my sunglasses. I seriously missed the cloudy Ohio skies at the moment. The wind blew through the barren landscape as I climbed to my feet, my worn Timberlands kicking up dust. I gave a solid stretch as my back cracked and sent a surge of relief through my spine. I grabbed my coat from the ground and threw it on, my skin not made for this kind of sun exposure. With everything adjusted, I looked around, taking in my surroundings. Dallas had already pulled up the tent and the fire had long ago burnt out. Dallas sat in the passenger seat of the H2 as Atlanta flew over onto the roof. The tent had been secured over the doors, covering them up. I kicked some dirt onto the fire pit and walked over to the H2 with a yawn.
It was time to move along down the road it seemed. I brushed off my sleeves and reached over the center console from the door, grabbing a glass bottle of piss-warm water. I pulled the cork from it, taking a swig. It tasted like watered down alcohol from the bottle. I choked it down before climbing into the truck and looking over at Dallas who had pulled out a map.
“What’s the game plan?” I asked as I corked the water and set it down in the cup holder.
Dallas examined the map, tracing a few different routes before turning to me “It seem that west towards the ocean is the best option.”
“That’s a no go.” I informed “Toby stopped by. Told me all the roads west are closed off. I serious have no idea how that guy finds us on the road.”
“When has a roadblock stopped us before?” Atlanta asked as he basked in the sunlight.
“Since we robbed a bank.” I said as I looked up at him “We are trying to annoy the griffons, not piss them off to the point of hunting us down.”
“I think we already crossed that line.” Atlanta said, stealing the map from Dallas.
“Sounds like someone wants to walk.” I said, tearing the map away from him.
“Buck off.” Atlanta said with a scowl.
“Eat me.” I fired back, checking over the map.
I traced a proper route through the east towards the great grass lands of the north, just on the northeastern border of Equestria. It was right outside of both the ponies’ and griffon’s political jurisdiction, perfect for my purposes. I believe it was actually part of Zebra territory but they were cool with me. Actually aided me in a few occasions because they were enemies of the griffons as well.
“We’re heading towards the grasslands.” I said as Atlanta and Dallas perked up “We can rest of a while when we get there.”
Dallas nodded as Atlanta flopped back on the roof, lying down. I started of the engine and grabbed ahold of the shifter, dropping it into drive and pulling away from the campsite. Dallas turned on the radio again, never liking silence. He hummed along with the song as he stared out the open door. I reached over and gave him a playful knock on his shoulder plate. He turned to me and offered a smile, not saying anything. It isn’t like he needed to. Being around someone every day for years on end, you eventually hear everything they have to say. I am still waiting on the day where we communicate entirely via grunts and nods.
The beat up Hummer rocked down the road for a while as a town appeared on the distance. We had everything we needed, so I pulled off of the road onto the rough desert ground. I was going to give the town a wide berth. It was a standard procedure of ours. I looked over at the town and noticed it was largely populated by ponies and buffalo who’d left their tribe for something new. I smiled for once, seeing a friendly town (I hoped) but never the less, stayed clear. The town was a decent size, probably ten square miles. I eventually cleared it and returned to the road. I was determined not to let anyone get hurt. Not anymore.
-
After eight hours of uneventful driving through the never ending desert, a roadblock stood about one hundred yards ahead of me. It was a concrete barrier with four griffons in dark blue armor with newly developed crossbows, almost certainly made to deal with me. I slowed the vehicle to a stop and looked over at Dallas who had fallen asleep in his seat. I reached over and tapped him on his head. He jolted awake and looked over at me. I met his eyes and pointed out of the window before motioning towards the roof with my thumb. Dallas gave me a nod as I shifted into park and jumped out.
I ran around to the trunk and pulled it open. I was greeted with a gun rack and a few drawers. I looked over the three rifles that sat in there and reached over, grabbing Alex’s Dragunov from the center. It was a rifle chambered in 7.62x54mmR and was about four feet in length. It was a bit unwieldy at nine pounds but carried a greater sentimental weight. It was all I had left of Alex. I was going to make the griffons pay for killing him. I pulled back the bolt, letting the clunky mechanism do its job before closing the door to the trunk and stepped up onto the bumper. Throwing the rifle onto the roof, I climbed up onto it as well, stepping over the doors and walking over next to Atlanta. Atlanta was still passed out from the drive, choosing to sleep the time away. I laid down next to him and shouldered the rifle, letting the barrel poke through the fog lights and giving me a stable platform to fire from. I got serious as I peered into the scope and looked down towards the griffons and examined them. They had seen us approach but were unaware of who we were. One pointed towards me as I stared him down through the scope, seeing the white of his eyes and the scar running down his beak. Being this close made it personal. I could see his chest rise and fall as I wrapped my finer around the trigger, steadying my breath. I was no sniper but this wasn’t an insane range. The griffon steadied his bow before walking forward towards what he probably thought was a wagon that had broken down. It was simply a case of wrong place and wrong time.
I started to feel my blood boil as I watched him get closer with a friend following him close behind. Feelings of wrath started to course through my head and I felt a twitch in my finger. Atlanta still slept next to me as the hum of the engine cleared my head. I leveled the sight over the griffon’s chest and exhaled. I hesitated for a moment and squeezed the trigger. The rifle gave off a flat crack that echoed through the desert. The gun ejected a casing that flew and hit Atlanta. Atlanta shot awake, he heart probably ready to burst from his chest. I watched the round slam into the griffon’s chest and send a red mist out behind him. I watched him squint in pain as he fell to the ground and went limp. The second griffon jumped back in terror as his friend fell to the ground. I scoped in the second griffon and waited for a shot. He ran over his wounded friend and turned back towards the other two griffons to yell something.
I squeezed out another round and the shell flew over Atlanta as he ducked. The rifle lit up the night as the round slammed into the back of the second griffon. The griffon dropped to his knees and clutched his chest as I fired again and sent another round through the higher portion of his back, almost at the base of his neck. The griffon fell forward and stopped moving. The next two griffon’s took to the sky and started toward our location.
“What the hay?!” Atlanta finally registered.
I sighted in the next griffon that raised his crossbow towards me. He attempted to fire his crossbow but didn’t take into account for gravity and the bolt fell short, sticking into the ground. The griffon now flew only about fifty yards from me as I raised the rifle and fired another round, feeling the recoil. The round went wild and into the distance as Atlanta opened his wings and took off towards the last griffon. I cursed and fired once more in a panic, sending another wild round as the griffon got closer. Now only twenty feet from me, I fired two more rounds from the hip, one going wild and the other slamming into the forehead of the soldier. He started to fall and slammed into the battering ram of my SUV with a loud bang. I lowered the rifle as I looked over at Atlanta who stood over a dead griffon, his knife jutting out of the griffon’s neck.
Atlanta was breathing heavily as he removed his knife and wiped it off on the griffon’s feathers. He shot me a glance before sheathing it and walking away from the corpse. I clutched the rifle as I jumped off of the H2 and landed on my feet, dropping to a knee. I climbed to my feet and jogged over to the griffon that lay in front of the truck. I rounded the vehicle and looked down to see the griffon laying there, limp and bleeding all over the ground. I knelt down next to the corpse and rolled it over. I caught a look at the soldier and nearly fell over. It was a young griffon, maybe no more than fifteen. I didn’t exactly like the griffons but I had just shot a kid. He was probably scared out of his mind. I quickly stood back up, not waiting to look at the griffon for too long. Dallas jumped out of the H2 and ran over to me.
“What is wrong?” He asked before looking down the griffon.
I sighed and turned to him “They are sending fucking kids after us.”
Dallas remained silent before grabbing the griffon by the scruff of his neck and dragging him from the road. Atlanta flew over and landed down on the roof again, kicking a shell casing at the back of my head.
“Warn me next time!” He yelled in annoyance before dropping back down, annoyed that I woke him up.
The first griffon I had shot still lay in the middle of the road, coughing and crying out. I turned to the Hummer and grimaced before turning around and leveling the rifle.
“Shut up.” I said flatly before firing another round from the Russian rifle, killing the griffon on impact.
“There isn’t much you can do.” Dallas said from the other side of the road “We have to move.”
I just nodded “You’re right.”
Dallas walked back to the Hummer and jumped into it, sitting down in his seat as I walked over and climbed in as well. The vehicle rocked as I sat in and shifted back into drive. I drove around the corpses and around the barrier before returning to the road and flicking on cruise.