//------------------------------//
// Chapter 19 
// Story: Bad Future Crusaders 
// by TonicPlotter 
//------------------------------//

        One moment she was dead to the world, lost in a pitch black ink without thought or dreams, the next she was torn from her restless slumber by the deafening WOOOOOOOOOOOO of a train whistle. Scootaloo tried to lift her head but a rush of nausea and the feeling of bile rising in her throat pulled her back to whatever it was she was lying on. Her cheek pressed into her ‘pillow’ and she caught the fresh scent of grain from the soft burlap that supported her head. Her senses began to return to her and she slowly became aware of the constant droning clatter of a train’s wheels on railway tracks. Dull light pierced her eyelid as she opened her one good eye, aggravating her throbbing skill and making it difficult to try and remember what had happened; try as she might, she could not recall how she got here. Scootaloo shook her head and swatted at herself, trying to think straight and get a good look at her surroundings. She had been laid on her belly on a pile of burlap sacks filled with chicken feed inside of a moving boxcar.
        ‘…I spotted a freight train being loaded…’
        She perked up as the haze cleared and the memory of fleeing the city to a train with Apple Bloom and Silver Spoon came to mind, and the memory of finding Sweetie Belle. Still feeling nauseous but with a newfound burst of energy she looked all about the room. Lots of crates were stacked up and tied down with thick cargo straps, the kind that ratchet tight, and there were two more piles of burlap sacks tied neatly unlike the messy pile that served as her makeshift bed. What little light there was bled through small openings near the ceiling and the door that was open almost a foot. There was no sign of Silver Spoon, but Apple Bloom was reclining against a crate, staring absent-mindedly out the door at the torrent of rain that was flying past as the train tore through a forest. She had her popper, her pistol as she called it, held out at hoof’s length and spinning around her pastern. With deft flicks of her leg she made it spin to and fro, change direction, and threw her leg out to take aim before letting it spin quickly again.
        “What happened…?” Scootaloo said dopily.
        Apple Bloom’s ears shot up at the sound of Scootaloo’s voice. Her pistol twirled around her leg and settled into her holster, and she half-smiled compassionately. “Holding up okay?” she said softly.
        Scootaloo tossed her tongue around the inside of her mouth trying to get rid of the faint taste of vomit. “I feel like I’m going to throw up,” she said in disgust, “What happened to me?”
        Apple Bloom puckered her lips and exhaled a near frustrated breath. She leaned against the door and watched the rain go by for a moment and then kicked it shut with a low resounding clang. “Ah don’t really know, Scoot,” she said in a cold inquisitive tone, “Why don’t you tell me?”
        “Apple Bloom…?”
        “Ah’ll go first. Ah know you’re the farthest thing from yellow-bellied there is, Scoot. You jumped between me and a psycho with a knife, and you went out head-first into danger without a moment’s notice to act as look out.” She frowned, sending a chill down Scootaloo’s spine. “But you went and took one look at that stallion in the air and you fell to absolute pieces.”
        The image of the stallion appeared in her mind and in an instant she was overtaken by a rush of memories. Silhouettes of fear incarnate outlined by lightning, the sound of the thing in the flight cap as it taunted her, and the pain. The pain as his hoof connected with her face to send her falling to what was this close to her demise. The deafening memories suffocated her and for a moment she struggled to breathe.
        “Eeyup, that’s the face you made,” said Apple Bloom. “Enough is enough. Tell me what’s going on here.”
        “But…”
        “Scootaloo,” she said sternly, and then spoke in a much softer tone. “Look, Scoot. If you’ve gone and gotten yourself into something deep, Ah won’t judge. Whatever’s going on, Ah don’t rightly care whose fault it is. Even if it’s yours, understand? Ah’ll help you if you’ll let me, but you gotta tell me what’s going on here. Start with why that pony turned you into such a blubbering mess, and if you’ll indulge me, go on to tell me why that pony in the cloak is out to get you.”
        “I told you already!” said Scootaloo loudly, “I don’t know why that pony’s after me! And the other one, I… I…”
        “Scoot,” said Apple Bloom compassionately. “You panicked and passed out just at the sight of ‘that other one’. Ah had to carry you here on my back like a sack of spuds. Why, Scoot? What did he do to you?”
        Scootaloo swallowed her fear. “He… he tried to kill me. A long time ago. He almost did it, too; I was this close to going out.”
        Apple Bloom gritted her teeth. “Why?”
        “I was in the way. He and two others are the ones who killed Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy.” Scootaloo looked away, not wanting her friend to see her face. “The night we escaped Ponyville we were attacked. I don’t know who, or why. I can’t remember what they looked like, but I remember that hat.” She looked back to Apple Bloom as tears obscured her vision. “It was him, I know it was him,” she said as she unfurled her misshapen wing and patted her bad eye, “He did this to me when he knocked me out of Fluttershy’s hooves. He—”
        Apple Bloom cut her off with a tight hug. “Shush,” she said quietly and pressed her friend’s face into the fluff of her chest, “Don’t you worry ‘bout him, Sugar. Ah took care of him. He’s gone somewheres he can’t hurt you no more.”
        Scootaloo swallowed nervously and slowly pushed away from her friend’s embrace to stare at her warily. “What did you do?”
        “He’s so fond of bombs, so Ah gave him a taste of his own medicine. They’ll be weeks picking up the pieces of that sicko.” Her expression melted into a worried stare when she noticed the look Scootaloo was giving her, “What? After what he did to you and Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy he was more than due for that.”
        Scootaloo felt as if a part of her had died inside. Knowing that stallion was gone and would never hurt another pony had lifted a tremendous weight from her shoulders, but knowing her foalhood friend had been the one to do it, to kill somepony and so casually own up to it was crushing her. “So it’s true?” she said sadly, “What Silver Spoon said about you?”
        Apple Bloom turned and walked toward the door, sliding it open gently to sit by it and stare at the rain for a moment. When she turned to make eye contact she was wearing a smile so full of despair that it was enough to make Scootaloo step back. “Every word,” she said distantly, “And then some. Sorry to let you down, Scoot.”
        “What happened?”
        “War.”
        The memory of Apple Bloom’s photos surfaced in Scootaloo’s mind. “You were a soldier?”
        Apple Bloom nodded slowly. “Not by choice. Give me that much credit at least.” She reached into her vest and pulled out a small round pendant on a chain around her neck, one that reminded Scootaloo of the dog tags Rainbow Dash had been given in the Wonderbolt’s Academy, and patted it somberly. “Ah was drafted, along with pretty much every one of age to fight off the spooks from the West.”
        “Ghosts?!” blurted out Scootaloo.
        Her outburst got a raised eyebrow and a weak smile from her friend which faded very quickly. “No, Scoot. The west was full ‘a ponies. We called ‘em spooks because they looked like they were dead. Not at all like ponies from here; they were pale and sickly looking.” Her lip quivered as if she were describing a nightmare, “Downright gross-looking, like something out of a horror novel. Pa told me about them once; the two countries were friends once but things went sour. Don’t know why, it was before my time.”
        Scootaloo couldn’t help but cringe as her mind conjured images from Apple Bloom’s vague description. “They attacked your home… because of that?”
        “Probably didn’t help matters,” said Apple Bloom with a sigh. “Truth is, is they were desperate. The East is a desert; we didn’t have much, but we had resources at least. Fuel for engines. Decent enough land for food.” She patted her pistol, “Minerals for gunpowder, for export. We had something. The West’s a frozen-solid wasteland. Ah heard it never stopped snowing there. Their magic carried them a ways but you can’t get blood from a stone, right? They didn’t even have plants to eat.”
        “You don’t mean…”
        “Meat eaters,” said Apple Bloom with a nod. “According to my Pa they looked so sickly from generations of eating meat and fish. And you know something, Scoot? Ah actually really pitied them until they declared war. After that it didn’t take me long to hate every last one of them.” She drew her pistol and slammed it onto the floor of the boxcar with a scowl. “So Ah took one of these and a uniform, and me and Pep and Sunny and Pavel went to fight their war. ‘Cept… that wasn’t no war.”
        “What do you mean?” said Scootaloo.
        “They had spears. Bows and arrows. Magic. We had these,” she said as she held her pistol up, “These shot through their armor like it was paper. We had airplanes and tanks. One plane’d take an entire squadron of pegasi out no problem, and a tank would just run ‘em right over. It weren’t a war, Scoot, it was a massacre. They didn’t stand a chance. And yet, they just kept coming. They outnumbered us so badly and so many of them went down and they just kept coming. We, Ah, pulled the trigger so many times and dropped so many of them.” Her pistol trembled in her hoof and she shakily lowered it back into her holster, speaking in a near whisper, “And they just kept coming.”
        “Apple Bloom…” said Scootaloo, who could feel pain coming from her friend in invisible waves and just wanted to say something to comfort her, “You were defending yourselves.”
        “Don’t matter,” said Apple Bloom in a sorrowful tone, “The damage was done. Ah’m the reason a lot of them spooks didn’t get to go home to their mommas, or their wives. Or children. It was too easy to hate them in the heat of battle, but now… Ah think Ah just hate myself now. It’s just too darned easy for me to kill; Ah’m just too good at it.” She looked up at the sky and managed a smile, “You know something? Ah’m glad Applejack and Big Mac ain’t around anymore. They’d be downright ashamed of me—”
        “Apple Bloom!!!”
        Tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. “Ah didn’t know who that flight-cap pony was when Ah pulled the trigger, and Ah felt nothing. Didn’t flinch, or hesitate. Shot him without even a second thought and Ah don’t even know his name.”
        “His name was Twitch.”
        BLAM!
        In a flash the sorrow was gone and Apple Bloom had fired her pistol at the source of the voice. Chicken feed poured like water from the hole it left in the bag, and from behind the stack of burlaps sacks came the voice again. “Alright,” chuckled a familiar voice, “You can put the gun away.”
        “Come on out and Ah won’t shoot,” said Apple Bloom in a frighteningly calm tone as she holstered her weapon.
        An empty hoof moved out into view and waved, followed by Snails’ yellow face. “You know, there are politer ways to say hello to a friend than trying to kill them.”
        “Where the heck did you come from?!” said Scootaloo.
        “From behind those sacks; I just didn’t want to spoil the moment,” he said as he strode casually and sat on the pallet he had been hiding behind. “I didn’t mean to interrupt… or startle you. I wasn’t thinking for a moment and I sort of just blurted it out.”
        “Well then, blurt,” said Apple Bloom. “Who is, was this Twitch?”
        Snails pushed his glasses up the bridge of his muzzle. “One of the founding members of the Royal Equestrian Air Force, and a close friend of their commander. That being said…” he said as he looked over his glasses with an accusatory glance, “I’d lie low for a while if I were you two. Their commander is… notorious for her temper.”
        Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow and looked the unicorn up and down. She didn’t seem at all interested in what he had said; Scootaloo couldn’t tell what was going through her head but whatever it was seemed to be bothering her. “You weren’t on this train when it left. Ah checked.”
        “Don’t let the cutie mark fool you,” he said with a proud laugh, “I am quite fast on my hooves.”
        “Quite the understatement, partner,” said Apple Bloom suspiciously. “Why come here, then?”
        “Say,” said Snails in a chipper tone, “How about a magic trick to lighten the mood?” He reached for Apple Bloom’s hat and she quickly hurled herself away with a hoof on her pistol. “You don’t like tricks?” said Snails.
        “No funny business,” she scolded.
        “Look at that,” he said with mock surprise as he lifted her hat. “You had a pack of cigarettes beneath your hat.” He took the small box that had materialized on her head and held it to her, which she cautiously took and studied. He suddenly chirped with laughter, “Oh, lighten the mood! Get it?”
        “You can’t get these in Equestria,” said Apple Bloom in a tone that straddled between admiration and suspicion, “And how did you know Ah smoked?”
        “I know a pony who knows a pony,” he said with a sly smile, “and would you believe it was a lucky guess? Call it an apology for the interruption, if need be.” Thunder cracked and roared in the distance and he wrenched his head around to stare out the door with a look of horror on his face. Snails stood motionless until it had subsided and laughed nervously to try and collect himself. “I hate thunder,” he said softly. “Reminds me of that night. You know the one.”
        “You said it,” said Scootaloo in agreement. “How did you survive that night, Snails? I saw you; I thought for sure you two were dead.”
        “Snips was,” said Snails with a sigh. “Poor little guy never even saw it coming. I take some solace in that. But,” he said, instantly perking up to his usual demeanor, “no sense dwelling on the past, my dear friends. Besides, it ultimately changed me for the better. I like to say Snails died that night as well, to make room for the new and improved me.”
        “What about Sweetie Belle?” Scootaloo couldn’t hold herself back from asking any longer. If her friend was still alive and Snails somehow knew something, she had to know now. “Is she alive?”
        He turned to face her, his features glowing with delight like he had been waiting this entire time for one of them to ask. “I’m quite happy to say she’s alive and kicking.”
        A loud clack drew the attention of the unicorn and the pegasus; Apple Bloom had dropped her pistol and was staring wide-eyed at them with a small paper tube in her mouth, barely able to hide how happy she was to hear their friend had gotten out of Ponyville that night.
        “I can tell you everything you need to know,” he said as his expression turned somewhat sinister, “for a paltry fee. Nothing, really, a little quid pro quo. Don’t think ill of me, but I am a businesspony. Business has to take precedence over charity, I’m afraid.
        “Name it!” said Scootaloo and Apple Bloom in near perfect unison.
        Snails’ smile stretched across his entire face and he reached into the pocket of his jacket to produce a small piece of paper. It floated into the air toward Scootaloo, unfurling as it moved, and laid before her on the floor. She recognized it in an instant; it had belonged to Rainbow Dash. The paper had a somewhat amateur sketch of a golden necklace that boasted a ruby in the shape of a lightning bolt. The element of loyalty. In that instant her heart sank, as what felt like the only opportunity to be reunited with her friend floated away. “I…” she said weakly, “I don’t have it. I don’t even know where it is.”
        “What?!” spat Snails who, for the first time, seemed genuinely caught off-guard. “You must have it!”
        “I don’t!”
        “You must!!!”
        “Tell me something,” said Apple Bloom in a hateful tone as she reached for her weapon, “Ah wonder if this pony in rags is after Scootaloo for that exact same reason.” Her weapon slowly rose and took aim at Snails once more. “That’s not something that’d be common knowledge, would it? That wouldn’t mean you and this pony were in cahoots now, would it?”
        “P-pony in rags?” he said innocently as his glasses floated off and rubbed their lenses against the collar of his blazer.
        “Someone paid me a hefty sum to track down Scootaloo here, who’s done nothing wrong to nobody. Now here you are, obviously loaded with cash, and popping up at rather convenient times. Am Ah onto something or am Ah being paranoid?”
        “I don’t think I appreciate the accusation,” he said with a note of affront in his voice.
        Apple Bloom frowned. “Ah don’t appreciate being hired to hurt my friends, so we’re even. Now answer me.”
        “I prefer the personal touch. Why hire goons to do my work, no offense to your erm, profession, when I could just stop by in the flesh to talk myself?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Kind of like I’m doing just now? Hm?”
        Apple Bloom’s expression softened as she nodded and holstered her pistol, but continued to keep a watchful eye on him.
        “Then what happened to it?” said Snails as he turned back to Scootaloo.
        “I don’t know,” said Scootaloo, “Honest.”
        “That is… is…” he said frantically, before sighing and closing his eyes to become calm again, “…unfortunate.” He slowly walked across the boxcar staring off into space, “Well then, there’s nothing for me here. I’ll just be on my way.”
        “Wait!!!” cried out Scootaloo desperately. “What about Sweetie Belle?! Where is she?! Tell us, please!!!”
        “Sorry,” he said coldly, “Life just doesn’t work that way. I’m a businesspony, after all.”
        “It’s no strike against you, Snails!” spat Apple Bloom with disgust. “You don’t have to—”
        “Snails,” interrupted Scootaloo. “What if the tables were turned, Snips was alive, and we knew where he was?”
        Snails froze mid-step and his gaze fell to the ground. “Oh, that’s a low blow…” he said quietly. For a solid minute he was silent, barely even breathing with his eyes closed tightly shut. Finally his shoulders slumped and he looked at her sadly, “Loamstone Valley. The next bridge this train crosses spans it.” With a defeated sigh he vanished in a puff of smoke without another word.
        “It’s actually happening, ain’t it?” said Apple Bloom with a childish smile as she lit the tip of her ‘cigarette’ with a match, “Things are finally looking up.”
        Scootaloo watched her suck on it; swallowing the pungent smoke it produced and blowing it back out. “That can not be good for you.”
        Apple Bloom laughed. “It ain’t. Pep always wanted me to quit.” She took another drag on her cigarette and stared at the trees whizzing past the open door. “Only question is, is how do we get off this moving train and into that valley?”
        Scootaloo smiled widely. “How do you feel about train-jumping? There’s a trick to it and I know it!”