The shotgun moved slowly around the pickup. The guy aiming it followed.
“Well, well, well. Lookee what we. Have. Here,” the shotgun-guy said.
Aside from his weapon, he wasn’t impressive. And the only thing impressive about his gun was that it was pointed at me. Right. At. Me.
He was short, if that even still applied for my height, and pudgy in the middle with skinny limbs. His skin looked bad, his eyes looked worse, and sparse black hair poked out from under a filthy Red Socks cap. Oh great, a Socks fan this far removed. He could not be stable. His navy blue shirt with PAPA emblazoned on the front did not help his cause.
“Yeah. A pony with a dog. Real fascinatin’,” I said. I noticed my new Southern accent tended to get more pronounced when I was angry. And having a rifle pointed at you will definitely get your dander up.
“A talkin’ pony,” the man said. He stood in front of his truck, attempting to level his weapon.
I ignored it. As much as I allowed myself.
I don’t know if Dad wanted a son or not, but part of bonding time with him involved guns. See, he was a gun nut, so everyone in the family knew how to shoot and handle a weapon. With us, it was how we got along. I even had an instructor’s certification with the NRA.
Not that I owned a gun of my own. One thing to learn about firearms during Daddy-Daughter time, another to get a license, buy a weapon, and care for it. I prefer blowing that money on DVDs and comics, thanks.
Still, I’d learned my stuff, and Dad and I sometimes did our bonding at the range, so I was up to date, too. I knew to respect a gun, what it could do, and especially the danger when a poorly maintained one was in the hands of an amateur.
“Yep,” I replied to the armed idiot. “Talkin’ pony. If you watched the news you’d know this isn’t that big a deal.”
My eyes went up the side of the weapon. His muzzle control was lousy. The barrell weaved back and forth like he was drunk, which was a distinct possibility given how red his cheeks were.
“Says you,” he growled. “You’re part of an invasion to ruin us!”
I raised an eyebrow at that. If everything before didn’t confirm it, then that little tidbit nailed the idea: this guy was not dealing with a full deck.
Still, he had that gun. And as crap as his control was, and shoddily maintained as his weapon was, the fact he had his rifle at all was bad. Worse, he was crap with it. Someone who knows their way around guns is one kind of bad. Someone who only has a passing understanding of guns is way, way, way worse.
He didn’t have to be a good shot. Especially at this distance. All it would take is for him to get a twitchy finger and well... I’d be dead all over. Again. Or close to it.
I swallowed, fear starting to edge out my anger. I pushed it back. He was an idiot who wasn’t all there. I was... A pony in a cowboy hat, with a dog.
I don’t know which was worse, honestly.
“Called my boys,” he said, with a cocky grin. “They’ll be here soon and we’ll make sure you get yours.”
This ain’t lookin’ too good, AJ said.
I know, I thought. But he’s got a freaking gun. If you have any bright ideas, mine include staying alive.
I got Bucky McGigillicuddy and Kicks Mcgee, she replied. Then I knew which leg was which. Oh great. At least she hadn’t named one of them “Vera.” Then I’d get shot because I couldn’t stop laughing.
Get me an openin’ and I can take care of the rest, AJ assured me.
I took inventory of her strong, quick body and believed her. If she said she could handle this joker, then I just had to distract him long enough. Easy. No problem. Even if I was starting to think I was going to throw up.
Deal, I replied.
I took a deep breath. Time for all those action movies I watched to pay off.
“Get mine with your boys?” I said to the PAPA man, facing him fully. “You mean you aren’t daddy? Can’t handle this on your own?”
He stared at me, his rifle lowering. I thought I saw something where the safety catch was.
“What?” he said.
“Your shirt, dude.” I indicated his chest and took a step forward in the process.
He sneered and reset the rifle to his shoulder, his chest puffing up.
“It means People Against Ponies Association. I’m a proud member!”
I didn’t have to work hard to feign confusion and a little disbelief. “You’re against ponies?” I asked.
“Damn straight! You’re a disease!”
“Dude, I’m a pony.” I cocked my head at him. “And are you against all ponies or just earth ponies?”
“We are against all of your kind!”
“Even Shetlands?”
“Even Shetlands!”
“But they’re so cute!”
He stared at me and again his gun drooped. I felt AJ smile when we both saw what we were looking for.
“Quit fuckin’ with me,” he growled.
“Hey, you started it with your loser organization,” I replied smugly, taking a few more steps. “I mean, PAPA? Didn’t exactly committee that, didja?”
His face filled with rage and he pulled his rifle up, sighting me.
He cocked his rifle.
And failed to shoot.
My body left my control and AJ leapt, spun and shot out Kicks McGee knocking the rifle high into the air. Bucky McGigillicuddy fired next and whumped the PAPA guy in the stomach. Hard. He dropped, gasping.
The rifle came down and AJ snatched it in her teeth. With a whip of her head, she slammed the gun on the pavement, shattering its stock. She spat out the remaining metal- the barrel clattering on the street. I half-expected to see teeth marks in it.
AJ looked down on him. I’d gotten used to thinking of AJ as warm. Warm to friends, motherly warmth when dealing with me, then hot as she saw the roadkill, the pets and this guy. So it was really scary to feel her suddenly so cold. It reminded me of my own anger, when Chrissy called me Freeze Rae. Though that was ice cubes compared to the glacier of anger she aimed at this guy. Was AJ picking up more than my taste in music?
The PAPA man looked up from where he was gasping on the ground, hands around his middle, face red and in pain.
We... Need to leave. Like five minutes ago, I thought, becoming keenly aware of just how not my body my body was at the moment.
Applejack regarded the prone PAPA man with her cold gaze. She did so until the man started to shake at the implications in her eyes. Then, she turned on her hind hooves and walked off.
“C’mon Sam,” she said.
Sam had been sitting during the whole exchange, her expression curious and worried. As AJ approached, she rose, her tail wagging hesitantly.
“We’ll...” the PAPA man wheezed.
“Save it for a pony who cares,” AJ said without turning around.
~
Once we were a safe distance away, I felt AJ give the reins of her body over and I stumbled at the sudden control I had.
Sorry, she said. He got my dander up.
“Feeling was mutual,” I replied, working my jaw up and down. Mine. My jaw. Even if it was pony, it was my jaw. I wasn’t dead. I wasn’t just a voice in AJ’s head. I had a body. I just hadn’t been able to work it for a minute.
Mouth, hooves, even the freaking tail! I can’t work anything!
I clamped down on the errant thought. I had a body now.
Hey, AJ said, softly. Y’all alright?
“Yeah, sure, great,” I replied, taking up our trek.
The sun would be going in a few hours. Even though cutting through town had saved us time, it had taken a while. Progress was progress and we needed to make a lot. Pit stops like PAPA guy and Sam were costing us time and AJ was-
HEY!
I stopped, standing still on the sidewalk.
Was it the gun?
“No,” I said, softly. “He was an idiot. Couldn’t even tell his safety was locked and his pump had serious rust on it.”
What then? And I realized how soft AJ’s voice was.
“I don’t have a body,” I said. “I’m dead.”
What? Naw. You’re as alive as Sam and me, girl. You-
“I’m dead! I died in that ditch and I’m only alive because I woke up as you!”
Birds chirped overhead. Sam whined, cringing away from me. I smiled sadly at her.
“It’s okay, girl. I’m just...” I shuddered and tears filled my eyes. “I’m dead.”
She leaned towards me and licked my foreleg. I stroked her and scratched behind her ear using the tip of my hoof.
“I don’t remember anything after the second impact, AJ.” My words, modulated by AJ’s voice, sounded distant, heavy. “I looked bad enough to be in a shallow grave. What makes you think I was anything other than on the way to being fully dead?”
I sighed, letting my rump hit the ground.
“I don’t even have a body of my own. This is yours. I just... I’m a rental. One day, I’ll just be a girl in a house in your head, then a girl, then a voice, then...”
My eyes looked out through the trees and I could make out farmland. The sun was easing onto the horizon with streaks of pink and washes of orange. I hadn’t really seen a sunset that good before. Now, I never would. Not with my own eyes.
Rae?
I got the nickname Freeze Rae because I was so detached. So cool. I didn’t freak out. I kept my calm and I got things done. It’s what made me good at my job as an accountant and it’s why I was a badass with first person shooters. I was Rachel Freaking Shelton and I was the hardest bitch this side of the military.
Till I woke up in a ditch. Till I woke up as another person, nee pony. Till I was pursued by a freaky private eye. Till I saw all that freaking roadkill. Till I had a rifle pointed at me.
Rae? You still there?
I ran.
Blindly and without abandon, I ran. I ran because I’d just had a gun pointed at me. I ran because not hours before, I’d run into a man who was pursuing me for mysterious reasons. I ran because I was dead and I wanted to feel alive. I ran because I could.
Sam kept good pace with me. She probably thought it was a game.
Rae! Rae! What’s goin’ on?!
I ignored her. She was just a voice in my head, right? Anyone can ignore a voice if they want to. And I really, really wanted to.
I wanted to so bad I didn’t notice the fence till I was crashing through it. The impact snapped me out of my panic and I stumbled in the debris, slamming against the house.
My breathing was heavy. Sweat streaked my barrel. By some miracle, Liana had stayed on my head.
Rae?! Speak t’me Rae!
“Go away...” I whined, my voice barely audible.
“Don’t see that I can since you crashed into my garden.”
I turned, a floppy movement, and saw a familiar face. Familiar only in that I never, ever expected to see her again, much less on Earth.
More shocked than I was, AJ took the mouth and said, “Miss... Jubilee?”
She smiled down at me. She was an older mare, with a dark cherry mane and tail, quaffed high and wavy. She kept most of her bouffant-like mane out of her face with a blue bandana. Her green eyes shone with friendly cheer and the beauty mark on her left cheek was totally endearing.
She offered her hoof.
“Hiya, Applejack,” Cherry said. “Fancy seein’ you here.”