//------------------------------// // Loose Ends // Story: Bad Apples // by Lidocaine Varnish //------------------------------// Bad Apples Loose Ends Dry Goods was none too thrilled when the Pegasus soldier walked into his store. It was late afternoon. Dry Goods had been planning on closing soon. It was summer, and he’d have a few more hours of sunlight to attend to things outdoors. There seemed to be another Pegasus in Solar Army livery loitering on the front porch of the store. Goods couldn’t take a careful look without being conspicuous about it. Although ostensibly under the fort’s protection, most of the residents of the Hollow viewed the Solar Pegasi as the biggest threat in the region. At the very best, they were regarded as an occupying force. Goods was instantly suspicious. Since the disappearance of the soldier the past winter, SA seldom ventured into the hollow in groups smaller than four or five…and never very late in the day. “’Afternoon,” said sergeant Roark in what he thought would be an amiable voice. “I’m looking for a couple of mares who have a farm up near here…by the name of ‘Apple,’ I think.” Stroking his chin as though trying to recollect the name, he said “Hmmm…oh, the Apple family.” After another pause, he added, “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of ‘em since before Hearth Warmin’s Eve. Do y’know how they’re doing?” Roark grunted. “What d’ya need ‘em for?” Goods asked. “We just need to ask a few questions,” Roark said vaguely. He surveyed the store idly. After a few moments, he added, “Well, if any of them should happen to come by, could you ask them to contact me? Over at Fort Lincolnlog…ask for Sergeant Roark. It’s a matter I’m handling personally.” “Ah…will do!” Goods nodded with feigned enthusiasm. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” “No, no…that’ll be fine. Thank you very much.” Roark’s mouth tightened up at the last few words, as though they’d left a bad taste in his mouth. Goods watched him walk out, exchange some terse words with his companion, and then they both walked out into the middle of the street and took to the air. “Boy, fetch me the rug from the front door and bring it to me out back,” he ordered. “But I already beat it this morning,” Urchin protested. “No questions, boy—just do it. Or I’ll be beating you.” Dry Goods affixed the rug to the clothesline, beating it with a wicker beater. He had to put some force into it to raise some dust, for it had been beaten pretty well earlier. More than anything, he was surreptitiously scanning the skies and the woods, making sure the Pegasi had actually gone. “Boy, can you git to the Apples’ farm without being seen?” he said quietly, not pausing in his work. “I-I think so….” “Good. I need you to bring ‘em a message. Tell ‘em a couple of SA were looking for ‘em…and they was very well armed. ‘Far ‘s I know, the SA ain’t adopted Winchesters yit, and both these boys had ‘em…it don’t smell like government business.” Urchin nodded. “Mind the sky…stay under the trees where you can’t be seen from above. Don’t let anypony else see you, for that matter, and don’t tell nopony what I said or what you’re doing besides Applejack or Apple Bloom.” “And bring something with you from the store—I don’t care what—in case you do get seen—so you kin give ‘em some bullshit excuse about deliverin’ it to somepony or other.” Urchin nodded. “Good boy. Be careful—it’ll be worth your while in more ways ‘n one, hear?” Dry Goods scanned the sky once more as he began taking down and folding the carpet. “Go.” Urchin was out of breath by the time he arrived at the Apples’ dugout. Wary of being seen, he darted in the open door without knocking. “Sorry Miss Apple,” he gasped, pausing for air. Apple Bloom had been bustling about the kitchen, mixing up cornmeal batter. She’d put a deep kettle of oil to heat up on the stove. “Urchin! What brings you here?” she smiled, wiping her hooves on her apron. “I was just about to make some corn fritters…want some?” “Mr…Goods…sent…me,” he panted. In a rush of words, he imparted Dry Goods’ message, and recounted what’d happened at the store. “Out—now!” Apple Bloom whispered urgently. She bounded out, slamming the door behind her. She dove for cover every bit as fast as Urchin did. “Didja see mah sister?” Apple Bloom called, unholstering her father’s Colt Walker. “No. I—“ “Well you’d best get outta here, then,” Apple Bloom interrupted. “If ya see her, tell her…but get yourself the hell outta here, unnerstan’?” “Okay,” Urchin said. He didn’t know much about what was going on, but the urgency of the situation was becoming more and more apparent to him. Apple Bloom crept deeper into the bushes, waiting tensely. She wondered if she should try to summon Apple Jack with a shot, but decided against it. She heard a rustle behind her and froze, hoping she’d chosen ample cover to be concealed from all directions. She turned her head as much as she dared, to see if it’d turn out to be her sister or somepony else. Sure enough, it was a Pegasus in SA livery. He was moving slowly, and close to silently. He stopped, and her heart caught in her chest as she thought she’d been seen. He was completely still for a few tense moments. She realized he was staring off past her—toward the dugout. After a few moments, he took out his pistol and marched quietly but directly to the door. He smashed it open with his shoulder and ducked inside. Shoot him in the back? Apple Bloom wondered. Busting down the door, armed, he wasn’t there to borrow a cup of sugar. There was some rustling inside the cabin, and a moment later he stepped back into the doorframe, leaning against it and scratching his head idly. He scanned the area. Apple Bloom took aim and fired. The door frame beside his head burst, and he fell back in surprise, rolling to the side. “Fuck!” Apple Bloom hissed, cursing herself for not having practiced more. Now alerted, he was using the cover of the front log wall of their dugout. Everything was silent. Time passed. She wondered if the bastard was going to be waiting there all day. She could try shooting through the chinking between logs…but she didn’t know precisely where he was, and she wasn’t sure the bullet would still have enough force left to do anything if she could get it through the logs. She could see the oil kettle on the stove, though…. “Sorry, Granny…I swear I’ll buy you another kettle,” she said to herself, half in jest. Granny Smith hadn’t any use for a kettle anymore. The kettle burst spectacularly, flashing brightly as the small splatters caught fire from the flames of the stove. The larger spatters conducted the flames outward in a whoosh, a tongue of liquid fire cascading down the front of the stove and outward. “AH FUCK!” she heard from within the cabin. She jumped as Roark exploded out the front of the door. For some reason, she’d imagined he’d continue his waiting game. Instead, he rolled grunting over the jagged ground, extinguishing most of the flames. As she brought her gun to bear, he coiled and jumped off the ground, aiding himself with a mighty THWUMP of his wings. She shot, apparently missing. Again she failed to anticipate his actions; she expected he’d just take off, but he only jumped out of sight over the edge of the ridge…and out of reach of her gun. She heard the crash and the snapping of branches as he landed blindly on the other side of the mound of earth. More rustling, sounding vaguely as though receding, greeted her ears. She bounded out from her cover, but paused just before cresting the ridge—would he just be waiting there with his gun aimed right at her? Her gaze darted to the side, and she was just about to dart to the side and crest the ridge elsewhere when she heard a more distant crashing from the other side of the hill. She jumped up to see the Pegasus leap up again. In a mixture of flight and jumping, he darted up into the forest canopy and clambered out of sight. She could see and hear branches disturbed, but his actual position was hidden as 50-hoove-long branches shook, swayed, and groaned as his weight touched them and left them. “FUCK!” she hissed again. “Sugar cube! Sugar cube, are you alright?” Applejack called, bounding through the brush. “Yeah…careful! There’s at least two of ‘em!” Apple Bloom shouted back. Applejack skidded to a halt, looking all around her, and up. Apple Bloom spotted a dark fleck in the sky. “Over there, maybe?” There was a lone Pegasus hovering in the sky at some distance. He had a view of the small ravine they were in. He seemed to be watching, and moving in closer for a better view. Dropping to the ground, Applejack assumed a steady firing position, and lashed her Sharps rifle to her hooves. Roark’s cohort laughed out loud when he saw the smoke cloud from the Sharps being fired. “Crazy bitch…nopony could hit anything at this distance.” Applejack was scrambling to reload, fumbling awkwardly for her cartridges while keeping her eyes on the Pegasus in the sky. A thin cloud of red and feathers burst out of the base of the Pegasus’ left wing. She could almost hear the satisfying thwack! of the bullet striking its target. For a moment, she, the gun, the bullet, and its target shared an exclusive, fleeting Zen-like connection with one another over the great distance. The Pegasus rotated backward a bit with the blow. Bone ground painfully on broken bone as the useless wing trailed behind him, shaken by the wind. He began to fall through the arid, cloudless sky. “Nice!” Apple Bloom rasped breathlessly. “Dammit to Luna, I let the other one git away!” Apple Bloom said, striking a log with her hoof in frustration. “Sounds like yeh burned ‘im a bit, though!” smiled Applejack. “Din’t see how much,” Apple Bloom replied sadly. “That was good thinkin’, though, if you didn’t have a direct shot.” Despite their casual conversation, they were both shaken. In the quiet afterward, it was sinking in that they’d just had a very close encounter with death. “D’ya think that one died?” “Dunno,” shrugged Applejack. “They kin walk on clouds…I don’t know if there’s magic protects ‘em from falls. Fall lahk that’d kill an Earth Pony, ‘sure.” Apple Bloom nodded. “I don’t think they was expectin’ us to be armed,” Applejack observed. “Good thing we were.” Then she sighed deeply. “I don’t reckon we should linger here any longer, though…with one shot or dead, they’ll be back…and we oughtn’t be here when they do.” Apple Bloom sighed. “You’re right…I guess we knew this day’d come,” she said glumly. “Let’s git our stuff, and light the hell outta here.” “Ya think we should tell anypony?” Applejack paused a long moment. “No,” her voice shook a little. “We don’t know where we’re going…and if nopony else knows we’re even gone, we’ll be that much harder to find. Apple Bloom nodded. “Ah’ll miss the Holler,” she said sadly. Applejack felt moved toward uncharacteristic tears.