//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2 
// Story: Bad Future Crusaders 
// by TonicPlotter 
//------------------------------//

        The door to the quaint little bar opened with a loud creak as Apple Bloom held it at leg’s length and froze in grim anticipation. Right on cue a rush of cold nighttime air flowed around her and seemed to cut right through to her bones. She had only been back in Equestria for three months and wasn’t used to the temperature yet; the land overseas, which had been her home since that terrible night all those years ago, was much hotter and drier. It was a climate that had been harsh on her as a filly, but one her body had become accustomed to as it grew. Stepping out into the cold and away from the warmth of the bar, she looked around as her eyes adjusted to the low light. The narrow streets were bathed in darkness and there were no ponies in sight. Nearly every window was black, save for the faint flicker of a lantern or candle in one or two of the buildings. It was a common sight for small towns like this: They tend to come just short of rolling up their sidewalks and putting them away for the night.
        Her gaze narrowed and she began walking down the wooden sidewalk, making no attempt to walk quietly. Her hooves clumped loudly while the boards of the sidewalk creaked and groaned as to protest, and her spurs jingled like loose bits being tossed from hoof to hoof with each step. Equestria still felt wrong to her, as it had seemed ever since the day she stepped off of the ferry and back onto the soil of her homeland. Perhaps it was how much had changed in her absence and how different things were in the East, or perhaps it was simply memories of that night. She had yet to decide.
        Her thoughts turned to the job at hoof; she had to decide the best course of action to capture her quarry. She had only a vague idea of how far away Canner Canyon was, but she figured with a comfortable pace she could make it there in about three hours, when the sun would be rising. She’d easily be able to pick up the trail of a lone pony on hoof in the morning light, and if she were particularly lucky, she might even overtake them while they still slept. The alternative was to sleep here and head out in the morning. With a fast pace she could make it there a little after sunrise. Her two options were be tired from lack of sleep or tired from running the entire way. Neither was a preferable choice.
        Aim’s worse after a sprint.
        She gave it no more thought than that: she had worked without sleep before. She cut between two buildings and down an alley that would take her to the edge of town. Not far ahead of her was movement in the darkened path that she could just make out as two stallions under the moonlight. Apple Bloom could feel their eyes on her as they went quiet and seemed to pay her a creepy amount of attention. Not caring the least about them, she walked right between the two as they watched closely.
        “Hey yellow pony!” called one of them from behind.
        Apple Bloom said nothing in return and continued walking as if she hadn’t even heard him. Thugs or hobos, she didn’t care. She had no time for either of them.
        “Hey, I’m talking to you!” He said in a much ruder tone as he pressed his hoof into her shoulder to stop her. “Look, me and my pal here—”
        Apple Bloom swatted his hoof away without even breaking her pace or making eye contact. “Don’t touch me.”
        The pony tried to stop her again. “You wouldn’t happen to have some cash on you, would you? Don’t suppose you could spare a few bits for a couple of unfortunate stallions?”
        His tone was almost threatening, and enough to get under her skin. “Ah said don’t touch me.” This time she put her hoof on his side and shoved him into the wall. She wasn’t looking for a fight, but these two were this close to getting one.
        “Who do you think you’re messing with you…” slurred the stallion’s friend, his string of vulgarities lost to something he held in his teeth. Apple Bloom stopped dead in her tracks; she could hear him running from behind and waited for him to attack. The instant his hooves left the ground she sidestepped and let him pounce past her. Her repeater was drawn by the time she heard his hooves clump into the soil and she canted it sideways, firing once. Her gaze was off of him before she saw the fine spray of crimson; it followed her repeater which swung around from the angled recoil. She let her body spin and follow her aim until it had found the pony that had grabbed her and she fired once more into his shoulder, dropping him instantly.
        She scoffed quietly and holstered her smoking repeater, then turned to look at her would-be muggers. The pony that had grabbed her was writhing on the ground, clutching his shoulder and mumbling gibberish in a quiet panicked voice. The other had crumpled into a heap face-down in the dirt, not moving, and with a knife a few inches from his breathless mouth.
        “Get a job.” She said gruffly to the writhing mugger, and tossed one bit on the ground in front of him.
        She ignored the delirious pleas for help from the wounded mugger and stepped over his fallen friend, continuing on her way. She had only so much time to reach Canner Canyon, and that time was not going to be wasted on muggers stupid enough to bring knives to a gunfight. She also had little interest in explaining herself to the law that had no doubt heard the gunfire and was on its way. She sprinted to jump over the small fence at the end of the alley and looked up at the stars to get her bearings. Satisfied she was heading north, she broke into a light gallop across the dark, nondescript field in the direction of her next paycheck.
        Sparse bushes and the occasional tree, all indistinguishable from one another, flew past her as she moved at a comfortable pace. Before long the constant thump of her hooves on dirt and the jingle of her spurs had lulled her into a relaxed state and her mind began to wander free. Her thoughts returned to the freak in rags that had hired her for the job. Apple Bloom hadn’t been interested in any of the ponies so far that had hired her to track somebody down, nor had she been interested in any of the ponies she had collected bounties on. Somehow, though, this one had rooted itself in her mind like a creepy little weed and refused to leave. She had gone to such a ridiculous effort to mask her identity, so over-the-top that it was actually funny.
        Yet she just tossed me a small fortune for one pony.
        That thing was either loaded or had some serious connections to be able to just drop that kind of money in front of a perfect stranger and trust them completely to succeed, and it was a thought that was giving Apple Bloom some trouble. She had been in Equestria for three months now, maybe collected a hoofful of bounties at most, and had made a conscious effort to avoid attracting attention to herself for it. She wasn’t notorious in any way; she could hardly even be considered a bounty hunter, and yet this masked weirdo had gone out of her way to hire her.        
        And she acted like she knew me. And she recognized the vest. Ah don’t like this one bit.
        Light in the sky caught her attention and she slowed to a stop. The stars above her had been lost into a pale blue that was slowly being swallowed by the rising sun that peeked from above Canner Canyon in the distance. Apple Bloom thought about the freak no more and ducked down at the tree line. There was only one path to take, about a few hundred feet ahead, and although stealth was not her strong point she was not about to let her target spot her first. She crouched low, watched, and listened.
        Ah’ll worry later. Got a job to do.
        She could hear birds singing in gratitude of the sunlight in the distance, and a very gentle wind whistling through the tall grass that lined the canyon. Ahead of her was the road to her target: a not often travelled dirt path that sliced cleanly through the rocky canyons. Moving low and studying the ground closely as she moved she found what she was looking for. Shallow hoof prints no doubt left by the light frame of a pegasus ran down the path, following the trail of her quarry. Much of the print had already been blown away by the wind, meaning her target had probably passed through here early yesterday.
        No need to be quiet.
        She stood up tall and began following the hoof prints up the trail. As she walked she was constantly on alert for any movement around her. As the path dipped into the canyon it became narrow and was surrounded by sheer rock wall on both sides; it was the kind of path that must have been cut through the canyon to create a road. The way the path snaked back and forth limited her vision, and the high walls put her at a definite advantage against a pegasus who heard her coming and decided to attack from above. There were a few trees growing along the path and none of them were very big, suggesting to her that the trail may not even be as old a she was. One which she walked under had a nest of baby birds which went silent as she past under, upset that she had come so close to their home. The path snaked around almost a corner and widened into a larger area which was home to a few trees, rocks, and bushes.
        And the trail of hoof prints stopped there.
        Apple Bloom kneeled down and studied where the trail ended, right under a tree just off the path. The soil where the hoof prints ended had been flattened down as it someone had slept there, but there was no sign of the trail picking back up. After a moment of reflection she frowned and almost hit herself for being so stupid; the pegasus had camped here, heard her coming, and flown off!
        Wastin’ time. Gotta get to high ground and spot her.
        Apple Bloom took off down the path as fast as she could run, rapidly scanning back and forth between the sky and the canyon walls in an effort to try and spot her target or find a place she could climb up to take a look. She took a running lunge at a low spot on the cliff and managed to make it three feet up the wall before her momentum ran out and her belly slapped into the cold rock with a loud grunt. She pulled herself the rest of the way, almost slipping and falling twice, but made it to the top and sprawled onto stomach in the grass above, tired from the climb.
        And movement caught her eye from the campsite behind her.
        She kept herself low and spun to look: Over the rock wall near a fallen tree was a scruffy cerise pony’s tail just slithering out of view.
        Clever pegasus.
        Apparently her target had assumed Apple Bloom would expect her to fly, and had instead laid low and decided to stay bound to the ground. Apple Bloom tipped her hat in honest respect of a ruse that almost worked.
        Sorry, sugar. Luck’s just run out.
        Apple Bloom moved in a slow and deliberate manner, keeping her belly as low to the ground as possible. She couldn’t see her target but she could hear her just fine. The sound of a pony sliding through the tall grass was so easy to follow that she could actually tell her target was swerving back and forth as she moved. The pegasus obviously had some experience at this: She was keeping low to stay out of sight and zigzagging to make pinpointing the source of her sound difficult. Unfortunately she didn’t have enough experience to do it right: All she was doing was broadcasting to the entire world exactly where she was in there.
        And the noise you’re making in there’ll make sneaking up on you too easy.
        Apple Bloom trotted swiftly, stepping lightly to keep her spurs quiet, and crept in a straight line parallel to the grass field. She stood just tall enough to see the grass rippling as the pegasus cut through the grass, creating a wave that was following her every step of the way. She followed the din created by her prey in the grass, using it to keep from being heard, and moved behind a large boulder which separated the grass field from a path of solid shale and gravel.
        Couldn’t ask for a better ambush than this.
        Apple Bloom leaned her side into the rock and drew her repeater. She could hear her target moving almost right toward her and pulled the hammer back…
        Come to mama…
        Purple and orange shot into view around the border and ran right past Apple Bloom. Her hoof moved on its own, guided by razor-sharp reflexes honed from years of gunplay. In a flash she took aimed and pulled the trigger.
        The gunshot echoed through the field, the sound silencing the singing birds in the distance.