“This is so lame,” Scootaloo moaned. She thumped her head against the side of the apple stand. “Couldn't Big Mac have kept the field with the clubhouse on it?”
“Scoots, Ah know you miss the clubhouse, but would you mind talking about something else?” That was the least of my family's worries then. I sighed heartily, and slumped against the only wagon my family had left.
Another minute passed by, and with it another pony. Sweetie Belle perked up. “Hi Mr. Bartleby! Do you want some apple treats?”
The scrawny brown pony looked with morose eyes at the selection. “I'd prefer not to.” Without another word, he walked away, his head so low, he almost bumped his nose against the cobblestone.
“How much longer until AJ comes? As fun as serving all these ponies is...” Scootaloo gestured to the empty courtyard. “I don't think we're making any progress in our salespony cutie marks.”
“We got another half hour before she comes back and we go back to the rest of the festival,” I said.
In the distance, the music struck a final chord, and was met by a murmur of applause. Sweetie Belle harrumphed. “Darn it! They're already half way done with music contest!” She rolled over in exasperation, and lay on a barrel of apples.
“Come on, just a little while longer! We might still catch the ending.”
Sweetie Belle got up and squinted. “What the hay is that?”
I perked up. “That's Mr. Walker!”
He was staggering, cradling something in his arms. “Cheerilee! Bon Bon! Derpy... Big Mac! Anybody... please help!” he cried hoarsely.
The urgency in his voice made me uneasy, but I ignored the knot in my stomach, and called to him. “Over here, Mr. Walker!” He glanced up at the sound of my voice, and hustled in our direction.
“Why'd you tell him to come over here?” Sweetie Belle asked, a tint of discomfort in her voice.
Scootaloo looked warily at me. “Um, girls...Look at what he's carrying.”
I gasped. In his arms was the mute unicorn, Lyra. She was sporting cuts and bruises across her body, and her horn... most of it was gone. Blood caked onto her forehead and mane, and a fresh stream trickled down her face.
“Apple Bloom, thank God it's you,” he said between gasps of breath. He looked like he was about to collapse.
“What in the name of Equestria happened?” I asked.
He didn't answer. He gestured to the wagon. “We need to put her down.”
“What?” Scootaloo quivered.
“Not like that! Just, get all of the shit out of the way!” he barked. He had the same look on his face that I've only seen when AJ was trying to put out an orchard fire. I started pulling the barrels and boxes off of the wagon immediately. Sweetie Belle joined in, and soon a hesitant Scootaloo.
He was an absolute mess. His sweater barely clung to his body, it was so ripped apart.
A loud shriek pierced the night, and the distant music abruptly cut off. The anxious murmur of the crowd spread through the crisp night air.
Walker's head snapped in the direction of the sound. “Shit!”
My two friends looked fearfully at Walker, then towards me. We stopped moving the apples off the cart. I cautiously spoke up. “Mr. Walker, what's happening? Why are ponies screaming, and why is Lyra hurt?”
He laid her down onto the cart then he squatted and turned to me. His face and neck were covered in scrapes, and he had a couple of bruises forming on his cheek. Bits of dirt clung to wherever there was wet blood. I could feel his ragged breathing as he struggled to catch his breath. “Apple Bloom, look at me. I know this isn't good, but you have to trust me. It's very important that you get Lyra to a doctor right now, and it's very, very important that you keep her away from Lucky.”
“Why aren't you taking her to help?” I tried to keep my voice steady.
“Lucky hurt Lyra, and he's telling ponies that I did it.”
“How do we know you aren't lying?” Scootaloo piped up. She was quivering, but kept a brave face.
“Why would Lucky want to even do that?” Sweetie Belle said, but her voice came out only as a squeak.
“I don't think you understand. They're going to come down here, and do everything they can to kill me. Believe it or not, I don't think that'd help Lyra,” Jerry said. He looked down at the remains of his sweater with panic. It was torn, the bloody rag barely hung to his body. He quickly threw it off. The blood had soaked through to his undershirt, and even that was sporting a decent hole, as well as cuts. “Shit...” he muttered, holding out the most splotched part of his shirt. He spit on his hands, and rubbed them together in an unsuccessful attempt to remove the smudges of blood. “Look, you just have to trust me. Lucky said he was setting up some kind of trap for me behind the stage. If I can find that, then maybe, just maybe, I can clear my name.”
The roar of the crowd grew louder. Sweetie Belle bit her lip, and shared a worried glance with Scootaloo.
I looked at Walker. I didn't know what to think. Here he stood in front of me, covered in blood, with a dying pony. I didn't want to believe it, but it really looked like he... well... like he tried to eat her.
I broke into a cold sweat. Maybe everything Featherweight was telling me was true. But, that didn't seem like something Mr. Jeremiah would do, even if a lot of ponies thought he might. He was always so nice, so polite. Even if he did hurt her, why would he get help, if he was going to eat her anyways? Where would he come up such an elaborate story?
Then I began to wonder; did it matter if he was telling the truth? Here we had a unicorn that could be dying. Whether or not Mr. Jeremiah hurt her, Lyra still needed a doctor, and fast.
I gulped. “Okay, Mr. Jeremiah, we'll do everything we can to help Lyra.”
“Apple Bloom!” Sweetie belle protested. “We can't just—”
“Can't save a pony's life?” I asked. Sweetie Belle looked down at her hooves.
Mr. Jeremiah's eyes, just for a moment, lost their panic, and the faintest semblance of a smile curled his lips. “You're a good kid, Apple Bloom.” He ruffled my mane and I tried my best to ignore his grimy hand.
“Where is that Celestia-damned monster? I swear I'll string him up the moment I see him!” a rough voice called. I could hear hoofsteps echoing throughout the winding streets of Ponyville.
He let out a curse, and rushed away as fast as his two legs could carry him. He turned a corner and went out of sight.
“What do we do now?” Sweetie Belle asked in a hesitant whisper.
“Ah guess we pull the cart to the hospital,” I said.
I heard labored breathing. I turned to see Lyra, wincing, her chest rising and falling. Sweetie Belle just kept on staring at the broken horn. “Is she okay?” Scootaloo asked.
“Of course she's not okay! Look at her!” Sweetie Belle said. “She's not going to last long enough for three little fillies to drag the cart all the way to the other end of town!”
The unconscious unicorn let out a breathy snort.
“Wait, I think she can hear us,” I said.
“Ask if the human did it,” Scootaloo yipped hastily.
I went up to her, and gently nudged her shoulder. “Umm, Ms. Heartstrings, I know you're in pretty bad shape right now, but it's kind of important that we know what happened. So, did Jerry do this?”
She winced in pain. Sweetie Belle took a rag from the cart and dabbed it against Lyra's broken horn.
Scootaloo panicked, her wings flapping so hard, she went airborne for a second. “Sweetie Belle! You could be hurting her even more!”
“Well, somepony has to do something to help!”
“Girls, please quiet down!” I pleaded. I turned back to Lyra, giving her another tap. “Did Jerry do this to you?” I asked again. This time, she feebly rolled her head in what could have been a head shake.
I turned back to the girls. “She says Mr. Jerry didn't do this.”
Sweetie Belle frowned. “Are you sure? I don't think she's really awake right now.”
“It would be a lot easier to tell if she could actually talk,” Scootaloo said.
Thundering hoofsteps interrupted our conversation. Six ponies were making their way towards us. Most of them were still wearing their costumes, but they looked really riled up. One of the unicorns was carrying a brick in his telekinetic grasp, and an earth pony was brandishing a baseball bat. I unconsciously took a step backwards.
A stallion wearing plastic deer antlers ran towards us. “Son of a bitch, this is where he left Lyra.” Ponies heard his exclamation, and gathered around the unconscious mare. Questions and threats zipped around the crowd. You could see the anger and confusion growing on their faces.
One mare turned to us. “Fillies, this is very important. The human is killing ponies, and he's on a rampage. You must have seen where he went, if you've found the body,” she said.
“But she's still alive!” I protested.
She ignored me. “We need to stop him. Which way did he go?”
The three of us stayed tight-lipped. The stallion growled and stared down Sweetie Belle. “Did you see him?” he growled.
“Um... Kind of,” she squeaked, turning her head down.
“Then tell us where the human is!”
I scowled and realized that these ponies weren't looking for justice. They were looking for blood; blood of someone they refused to see for who he was. This went beyond fear. Their fear curdled into hatred, without trying to find any understanding. I wasn't going to let their hatred jeopardize anyone's life.
“No.” I said, stepping between the stallion and Sweetie Belle.
“You little, rotten brat! You don't understand! Lives are at stake if—”
“If you don't help us take this mare to get medical treatment? She'll die if all of you don't help us get her to a doctor!”
“But the human's on the loose!”
“If you cared about saving lives instead of killing humans, you would help.”
The six ponies muttered between themselves. Grudgingly, two of them buckled into the harnesses at front, two hopped into the wagon and began tending to Lyra. The other two took positions at the side of the wagon, and they all trotted off.
“Shit, the human must've done a number on her,” one said as they galloped off.
I turned to my friends.
“Sweetie, Scoots, go make sure they take her to the hospital, I need to find Jerry.”
Neither of them replied. They were staring at me, jaws dropped. Scootaloo managed to find her voice. “Your flank... You have a cutie mark.”
I cast a sidewards glance at my flank, and saw they were right. Whatever joy I felt was instantly overshadowed by the severity of the situation. “That's not important right now!” I said.
“But you got your—”
“Go!”
They nodded, and we parted ways. I scrambled down the street, praying AJ didn't find out we left the stand unattended. If he was going the long way around back to the stage, I could find a way to distract everypony, and give him some more time.
Not that it mattered, I realized. There was little chance that whatever evidence was hiding back stage would be able to halt a mob in its tracks. I just hoped that he would be able to evade the ponies until he found whatever he was looking for.
I ran by a group of ponies who were pulling wooden boards from a nearby cart. One by one, they picked up planks riddled with jagged nails. Fruit rolled onto the street.
“Stop! Please! That cart is all I have left!” a mule cried as he tried to work his way through the crowd.
He was shoved aside by a gruff looking unicorn. “You saw what that human did. We're going to need everypony to pitch in, whether it's pony power, or an ass's cart.”
I gulped, and continued towards the center of town, each hoof striking cobblestone. Something told me the apple stand wasn't going to survive the night. All around me, I saw ponies picking up and carrying shovels, pitchforks, planks of wood. I even saw a few ponies holding spears and swords. I saw a member of Luna's night guard, confused, trying to navigate the crowd. “Princess! Princess Luna!” he called fruitlessly. His voice was lost in the roar of the crowd. Ponies were stepping in my way now, in a frightened, swirling mass.
“Apple Bloom! Apple Bloom!” I struggled to pinpoint my sister's voice in the crowd.
I felt a hoof grab my shoulder. AJ looked down at me her eyes brimming with fright. “Apple Bloom, go get the cart, and bring your friends straight to Sweet Apple Acres. Don't stop for anything, do you understand?” There was a frantic urgency in her voice that I've only heard a few times before.
“But Mr. Jerem—”
“I've seen ponies get like this. It isn't safe. Just go.”
I huffed and squirmed my way through the bustling crowd.
“There he is! Get him!” I whipped my head around, and above the mob of ponies I saw Mr. Jeremiah sprinting back towards the main stage. Almost all of the ponies took a step backwards, clearing a path for the running human, but a unicorn brandishing a croquet mallet stood his ground.
He ran on top of a wagon, vaulted over the unicorn, and continued running forward. A yellow earth pony mare clutching a hatchet between her teeth stepped into his path and swung it at him as he closed in. He jumped to the side, barely missing the arc of her swing, but he fell to the ground in the process. She reared up, and prepared to stomp him with her forehooves. Jerry quickly pivoted, and kicked her stomach with both feet. She fell backwards but caught herself in time to land on all four hooves and turn around to face Mr. Jeremiah.
He was already back up on his hind legs, and he pried the weapon out of her mouth. Just as quickly he flipped it around, and struck her jaw with the blunt side of the axe head, causing a sickening crack to echo throughout the street. The mare crumpled, clutching her face, and crawled away. Another two ponies came charging at him. He raised the hatchet, and they scrambled to a stop trying to find any cover before he loosed the projectile. He dropped the hatchet and continued running.
I ran after him and so did the rest of the ponies. They moved around the injured mare like a stream around a rock, each crying their own personal vengeances against the human.
I turned a corner and saw the stage. It was a clear shot for Walker.
“Murderer!” Lucky's voice roared over the buzz of the crowd. He was leading a small lynch mob of his own. “Stay away from that beast! He killed Pokey, and tried to kill me, and Lyra. If anypony should be killing him, its me.”
“That's a fucking dirty lie and you know it! You ambushed me and Lyra!” he wailed back.
Lucky snarled. “Tell that to the bloody claw prints all over Pokey's body! Explain it to the ponies who found Lyra!”
I gasped. Did he actually kill a pony? I shook the thought from my mind. “Mr. Jeremiah saved Lyra though!” I shouted as loud as I could, but nopony paid me any heed.
“You fucking bastard, I thought you were my friend, but you just keep on screwing me in every god damn way you can think of!”
“I was your friend before you screwed my marefriend and tried to kill her, you sick fuck!”
The human and the pony charged at each other each bellowing his own scream. They connected and collapsed into a rolling melee. The ponies bearing pieces of wood and garden implements stopped and hesitated, wondering if prudent to join the fray. Hesitantly, one stallion stepped towards the human. Walker noticed the approaching stallion and tried to get to his feet and run but was pulled back down by Lucky.
“Dinky! What the hay are you doing?” Derpy called, her voice shrill against the din of the turbulent crowd. I whipped my head around to see a Dinky charging with a cannister in her magical grasp. A bit popped out, and a jet of liquid sprayed in an arc, hitting Walker, Lucky, and a good deal of ponies behind them. The two immediately disengaged and clutched their eyes in agony, as well as a number of the angry townsponies. They dropped their makeshift weapons to cover their eyes.
“Sorry!” Dinky called. She was treated to a chorus of swearing.
Derpy dropped down next to her daughter, and began dragging her away. “Where did you even get that?”
“The pepper spray? You left it in the spice cabinet, remember? I thought we might need it, so I've been carrying it around.”
Walker had the presence of mind to get up, and half stumble, half run away towards the stage, still clutching his eyes. Lucky screeched, “Somepony catch that mare-fucking bastard!” Ponies started giving chase but were slowed by the benches. He turned the corner, and for a moment he almost reached the stage.
He went down hard. Luna stood over him, wings flared. The crowd fell silent. A panicked look spread across her face as she looked at everypony's weapons. She gulped hard and looked down at the human.
“What are you waiting for? Kill that son of a bitch!” Lucky shouted. “If anypony should kill him, it should be the princess.” Luna wore a look of pure terror.
The roar of the crowd was alight once more almost to deafening levels. Luna tried to shout something to make them all stop, but nopony listened. Rather, they didn't care. The crowd slowly closed in; a chorus calling for human blood.
Luna bowed her head, and cringed as she aimed her glowing horn at Jeremiah.