I lay on the ground, watching as the PAPA man advanced, upside down from my perspective, a handgun leveled at us. Dazed as I was, I could tell that he at least knew what he was doing with it.
The word “index” floated up out of my addled brain. Oh yeah. I read a lot of Greg Rucka and he’s really good about responsible gun use. I learned the phrase “index your firearm” from him. That’s what the guy was doing, indexing his firearm. That meant intent.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” he said.
“Okay,” I said, my voice a bit silly. Maybe I had been knocked loopier than I thought.
He glanced out the door.
“Any more?” he said.
“Yeah. Tons. Whole army of ponies,” I said from the floor. So much for no-miss-nervous mouth.
He glared at me.
“We’re it,” I said with a sigh.
“Get up.” There wasn’t room for arguing.
We all rolled over and I winced. Looking back, a sigh of relief escaped me. The pain was hot and insistent, but it was also a graze. A line of blood that put me more in mind of an extreme rugburn than a gunshot welled up.
“Oh sweet, only grazed,” I said.
“The next one won’t be. Move.”
I don’t know if you’ve ever had a gun pointed at you. I hadn’t. I had seen guns, held them, used them on targets to “get an appreciation” for them. My human grandfather was a member of the NRA. Guns were nothing new in my life. That didn’t change the fact that I didn’t like them. Either as a human or pony. Guns were for certain individuals. I was not one of those individuals.
So having one pointed at me was a bit of a surreal experience. Though I should have been, I wasn’t afraid. Though I should have, I didn’t regard the weapon pointed at me gravely. Though I should have, I didn’t recoil inwardly and realize my mortality. Instead, I felt... Put out.
All I felt was this sort of vague sensation like, “Really? This is my day now?”
I definitely had gotten knocked sillier than I thought.
“Give us a second, pal,” my smart-aleck mouth said. “I got shot and flying with your kidnapee was no flight in the park.”
He pulled the trigger slightly, which moved the hammer back just as slightly.
“Stop. Talking,” Jess hissed from behind me.
“No, don’t think I will,” I said.
“I only need her,” he said.
“For what?”
The hammer paused.
“Well, you’re clearly going to shoot someone again. It’ll probably be me since I’m all loopy and my mouth’s just running,” I said, getting my weight off my hind leg. The wound may have been a graze, and I wasn’t feeling it, yet, but I didn’t want to strain my leg any more than I had to. “So why not tell a dead girl something that’ll impress her. You clearly need some unicorn magic. But I’m all dumb and pony like. Fill a moron in.”
He eased off the trigger, but still held it at ready. I could see the grooves on the barrel. There’s a view I could have done without for my entire life.
“I’m going to get them all,” he said.
“What are you gonna get who?”
He smiled, it wasn’t nice.
“Ah. Gift basket of death. Gotcha. I’m Jane by the way,” I said. “Used to be a regular girl till this mess. How about you?”
“Carter,” he said, which seemed to surprise everyone, including him. Blinking through his confusion he refocused and added, “Member of the People Against Ponies Association.”
“Hey Carter, nice to meet you. Circumstances suck, but I can tell you know how to handle your firearm.”
I pointed to Jess. “This is Jess, just so you know and I don’t think you got her name, but this is Rhea.”
The blue unicorn blinked at me. Then understanding lit on her. I’d said Carlisle’s name. Of course I would know hers.
He frowned. Names were good. Names made us human, which he didn’t need. He needed us as random beasty ponies.
The tilted, jabber-mouthed feeling was passing me and the plan my goofy brain had started in on was taking shape.
Carter’s gun lowered slightly.
“So, now that we all know each other,” I said, hobbling a bit forward. “Why don’t you lead us back? I mean, you have the gun and all.”
That got him back on point. Focusing the weapon on me, he twitched his head and we followed.
Jess gave me a look that begged what the hell did I think I was doing. I just smiled like an idiot. I heard Rhea whimper.
Back in the room with the nasty mattress, he had us all get on it. I relearned a smell I had not smelled since I was a foal: a wetted bed.
“So,” I said, smiling and leaning so my injured leg was up and away from the pee bed. “Is this your big plan?”
“Stop talking,” he said.
“I can, but then you wouldn’t know, would you?” I said, cocking my head and smiling blithely.
“Know what?”
“Uh uh, Carter. I was just a regular Georgia gal before I was a pony, but I wasn’t a dummy. I tell you what I know and you shoot me, which we both don’t want. It’s a mess to clean up and it’ll freak out your unicorn and then more cleaning up and you have to go find a new unicorn and start all over again. Hassle, hassle, hassle. So, how about this? You tell lil ol me what you know and I’ll tell you what I know. Deal?”
He stared at me. I could tell I’d already spun him around a little. I knew I felt spun myself. My heart was back in my throat and that “Nononononono...” noise was back in my head.
“What do you know?”
“Pony stuff. Plans about why they’re here, what they do. See, I’m not a fan, Carter. I was just doing my job and then I woke up like this. Think I wanted this? Think I needed this? I don’t think you needed this.”
His face twisted in disgusted agreement. “Just more freaks in the world.”
“Damn skippy,” I said, pointing at him encouragingly. The act also was to get a little of the shakes out of my hoof. “It’s already crowded enough. So what were you doing with Rhea here? I mean, you don’t like us, which I get, so what’s the plan?”
He looked at me, his gun, which was at relaxed ready, and back to me. I wasn’t smiling, just looking at him earnestly.
“I got a thing. From a guy,” he said. “Says if I get one of the ponies to use their magic, it’ll take me to all of them.”
He raised his gun and his not nice smile. “That’s where I want to go.”
I nodded. “Good plan, Carter, good plan, but why a unicorn?”
“They’re the ones with the magic. Duh,” he replied.
“I’ve magic. I’ve been doing this for a while too. I might be able to help.”
He looked at me. I could hear Rhea shaking behind me, then it lessened when Jess disappeared from my periphery and I heard the rustle of a wing. She was probably comforting her. I wish I was so lucky, but I was the genius who had started talking to the person with the gun.
He came to a decision and leaned over a bag near the overturned plastic drum. He pulled out a stone. It was flat and square and just about fit in his hand. It was covered in odd runes that I couldn’t make out from where I was.
I whistled when Carter brought it over to me as the runes came into focus.
“Nice stuff,” I said. “Where’d you get it?”
“Guy,” Carter said. “Said he came from higher up. Said he liked my initiative.”
“Guy, huh?” I said, examining the stone tablet. “What kind of guy?”
“Business. Blond hair, blue eyes. Kinda dull-looking,” he responded. “Wore glasses. What’s it to you?”
“All kinds of freaky out there because of the ponies, Carter. Gotta make sure things are on the up and up. He say anything specific?”
“Yeah. This’ll take me ‘right to their people.’ They put their magic on it and right to their people. He kept saying that over and over. So, I took it. Loaded up the truck and went looking for one of them ponies. Only I get one that can’t use magic!”
Rhea whimpered behind me. My bland face ticked and I tried to focus on the stone.
“May I?” I asked.
He leveled the gun at me. The barrel was even bigger this close.
“Nothing funny,” he ordered.
“I’m a lousy comedian,” I confirmed with a smile and took the stone.
As I looked at it, I realized I recognized the markings. It had been a long, long time ago, but my memory pulled it up.
I grinned. “Oh yeah. I can do this.”
“Yeah?” Carter said.
It wasn’t hard. I pushed some of the pegasus magic that I used to keep our stuff on top of Suzy into the stone. The runes and script lit up light blue in response and a hum entered the room.
“All set,” I said, as the hum turned to a whine.
“Bitchin’. Give it here.”
“Ah, no, Carter.”
“NO?!” he roared, bringing the weapon up.
I put the glowing stone between that barrel and me.
“Think about that, Carter.”
“You tricky dirty-”
“Now, watch your language, Carter,” I said as light started pouring forth from the stone. “I’m just a character from a little girl’s show after all.”
There was a sound like roaring wind and light enveloped everyone in the room.
~
As the spots cleared, I could hear loud music, cheering and then lots of “What the-?” noises.
The first thing I saw was a pair of men in pretty impressive shape wearing naught but speedos, cowboy boots and cowboy hats holding a banner that read: Happy Halloween San Francisco!
I grinned. “Oh this is great!” I crowed.
I turned and there were Jess and Rhea, both looking around, both looking really confused.
If they were confused, Carter was flat out dumbfounded, his gun dangling in his hand as his head whipped around the area trying to make sense of what happened.
“Carter! Carter, Carter, Carter. Didn’t your mom ever teach you not to take strange artifacts from strange men?” I lifted the stone tablet up, balancing it on my hoof. I flapped so I was a little over Carter’s eyeline. “Because you don’t get much stranger than Owen Burnett.”
That broke his reverie. “How did-”
“Who you described was, to the T, a human version of a trickster figure from a cartoon way, way, way long ago. And this particular trickster figure is really good at twisting his words and yours into all kinds of shapes.”
I looked over my shoulder at Jess. “Hon, my new favorite fairy from Gargoyles is Puck, no contest.”
Her look was perfect bafflement.
“What the hell is going on?!” Carter said, raising his gun at me.
“Oh, Carter. Don’t do that. We’re not in an abandoned strip mall in Tulsa anymore. We’re at a Halloween Pride Parade in San Francisco!” I spread my arms wide and spun in the air, taking in all I saw.
I stopped to hover in front of him and smiled, serene. “And you are pointing a firearm at an unarmed civilian.”
Carter made a whoomph noise as the Speedo Cowboys tackled him from behind. His gun was taken in a fluid movement as they held him easily.
“Ooo, very nice, gentlemen,” I said, clapping my hooves.
I came to a landing in front of the struggling Carter and smiled down into his purple-with-anger face.
“That stone, like you said, would take whoever’s magic was put into it to the magic user’s people. That is what Owen said, right? ‘Their magic will take you to their people.’” I tilted my head at him. “And surprise, surprise, ponies aren’t people! We’re ponies! That’s the point!”
Carter’s eyes popped with rage.
“Not that we’re not as awesome and great as people, just different kind of folk. So where could this magic have sent me? Certainly not back to Equestria. My people weren’t there. So where was the best place that magic could send me?” I looked at the banner pointed. “Amongst my human half’s people. See, I forgot to mention this, Carter...” I leaned in and in a not very whispery whisper I said, “I’m a big ol’ dyke and I love me some Halloween.”
I let that sink in for him. “So. My people,” I said, raising back up and gesturing to the crowd.
“What’s going on here?”
I turned to a man in a blue uniform with his hand on his weapon looking between the three guys in a heap in front of me and me.
“Hi officer! My name’s Blossom Jane. This is Carter- Well, I didn’t get his last name, but I bet you can get it. Anywho, we just got yanked here in the middle of this fine parade and let me tell you, it is no fun to be kidnapped and held at gunpoint as I’m sure these capable gentlemen and the surrounding people can attest?”
I waved my hooves and people started shouting assent.
“He had a gun on that pony!”
“I saw it!”
“I’ll testify!”
“Love a good witness,” I said winking at the officer.
“Let me up!” Carter shouted. “I know my rights! You can’t do this!”
“Actually, I can,” the officer said. “If you know your rights, let me make sure of that. You have the right to remain silent...”
As the officer read Carter his Miranda Rights, I went over to Jess and Rhea who were being seen to by a friendly looking man in his late forties and a woman in her early thirties. Both wore funny antenna on their head and pride flag t-shirts.
“Hey guys,” I said. “How’s it going?”
Jess looked at me, blinking a lot. Before she could say a word, I was tackle-hugged fiercely by Rhea.
“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” she said, burying her muzzle deep in my neck.
“Ow, Rhea. Ow. You’re welcome, but ow.”
“Oh! Sorry, sorry,” she said, blushing and releasing me.
The friendly man saw the gash the bullet had torn across me.
“Do you need-”
“Yes,” I nodded, the pain starting to surface as the adrenaline left my system. “EMT would be my bestie right now.”
As he rose to get me some help, I turned to Jess.
“Hey,” I said, softly. “You okay?”
She came forward, looked me over and threw her forearms and wings around me.
“Urgh,” I said, feeling the spasm of pain up from the wound. “I missed you too, Fire-”
“Shut up,” she said softly. “Shut up and hold me.”
I did.