Bad Future Crusaders

by TonicPlotter


Chapter 28

        Three Months Ago
        Port Filbert, Eastern Sonhos Vale
        
        “So is true. You are leaving.”
        Apple Bloom’s entire body tensed at the sound of her friend’s heavy accent. She drew a deep breath, perhaps the last taste of the familiar desert air she would ever savor, and turned to meet his gaze. Pavel stood almost completely motionless like a statue with his yellow eyes and beak locked in a silent plea for her not to leave. The only movement came from his tail that swished to and fro uncomfortably.
        “Eeyup,” she said sadly.
        “Why?”
        She looked over her shoulder at the docked ferry, still with its bridge up, and slumped down onto her duffel bag. “Everything’s changed now, isn’t it?” she said shakily, “Ah mean, folks don’t look at us the same anymore. Won’t even look me in the eye. Not even Ma and Pa—”
        “Pearl and Sol are not like that!” yelled Pavel in an angry squawk. “We—” he began and abruptly silenced himself, realizing his talons had dug three deep scratches in the wooden dock. He continued, speaking as softly as his foreign voice could handle, “We are changed, da? We did bad things to win that war. None of us came back the same. War is over but I was there again last night as well. Must give time and it will get better.”
        “Ah can’t,” said Apple Bloom with another look in the direction of the ferry. “Ah just can’t stop thinking about ‘em. Ah keep hearing that battle every single night. It just won’t stop.”
        “Sunflower and Peppercorn,” said Pavel with a gulp, “they are gone. This I know, and it hurts. Run away is not the answer.” He walked up and rested his talon on her neck, taking great care to keep his sharp claws from touching, and eased her ear toward his beak, “Will get better in time. There is nothing over there for you. No place. Here is your home. And I… I don’t want to lose you. You are only friend I have left.”
        Apple Bloom heard the bridge to the ferry hit the dock with a clunk and wrapped her hooves around him. “Come with me, then,” she said hopefully.
        Pavel sighed quietly. “I cannot. When my people we were run from Grogary Gorki, this was only home we found. And is your home as well. Don’t go.
        She nestled her face in the soft plumage of his chest as he wrapped a wing around her. “Check in on Ma and Pa for me from time to time, will you?”
        For what felt like an eternity there was silence. “Just come home soon, sestrenka.”
        Pavel took his wing from her and Apple Bloom met his gaze, smiling very faintly. She and the griffon had been friends for so long there was no need for anymore words. Instead she just nodded and slung her duffel bag, and slowly walked onto the deck of the ferry. She and Pavel kept their eyes locked on one another the entire time until the boat slowly began to move away. She watched him and what had been home for so many years slip slowly into the distance, knowing in her heart she would not be coming back.

        Present Day

        “Wake up, ya bum!”
        The gruff old voice was accompanied by the cold sting of a splash of water to Apple Bloom’s face. She spat and sputtered as she was violently roused from her slumber and, on instinct, drew her pistol and aimed at the source of the voice.
        “Ugh,” grumbled the miserable old pony, “Get that stupid thing out of my face.” Apple Bloom couldn’t help but smirk at the sight in front of her: an older amber-colored stallion dressed in filthy coveralls and a brown mane stringy from sweat, complete with a small splotch of oil beneath his blue eyes. “Out ya get! The both of ya! This ain’t no taxi!!!” he yelled, giving a kick to the young unicorn that was still sleeping peacefully at the other end of the train car.
        Wonder when the kid hopped aboard.
        Apple Bloom obliged the mechanic without so much as a dirty look; he sounded like he had enough problems going on in his life. The kid followed suit and flashed a sheepish yet very amused smile at her, to which she nodded back. She slowly made her way across the train yard and sat against a stack of unused rail ties. Going by the sun in the sky it hadn’t been more than a few hours since she left Scootaloo behind but she already missed the scruffy pegasus. She knew, though, she couldn’t stay behind and drag her friend down; Scootaloo was all she had left of her foalhood and that was something she would protect, even if it meant leaving the poor thing behind.
        As her thoughts wandered she found herself keeping an eye on the kid from the train. He was a pale blue and rather scruffy thin little thing in his teens, with a cutie mark that looked like three crystal fragments and a two-tone messy mane. He wandered around like he was lost, staring about at all the parked train cars and buildings in a way that seemed to scream ‘runaway’ to the world. Apple Bloom quickly noticed she wasn’t the only one watching him meander aimlessly; a stallion sitting against a boxcar was studying the kid closely and, as soon as the kid wandered between two buildings, he stood up and lightly jogged after him. She stood and walked toward the alley, drawing her pistol and pulling back the hammer as she approached.
        “That’s a real nice coat,” said the stallion, who had the kid leaning up against a wall, “Take it off; I’m having it.”
        “Not a chance!” growled the kid, “It was my dad’s!”
        “You don’t have a choice, so—”
        BLAM!
        The bullet ricocheted off the ground near the mugger’s hooves with a loud whine and he stumbled and danced over the sparks it generated. “Didn’t you hear him?” she said, staring the mugger down over the sights of her pistol, “That was his pa’s coat. You can’t take a thing like that.”
        “Think you’re tough, huh?” said the mugger as he puffed his chest and tried to look threatening, “Go ahead and lose the toy, if you have the guts. I’ll show you how tough you are.”
        Apple Bloom aimed right between his eyes. “Ah don’t fight for sport. Ah fight to win. And Ah don’t miss twice. It’s your choice: you take that coat and Ah take it back from your still-twitching hide.”
        “Coat’s not worth it anyways,” said the mugger in a smug tone as he turned tail and ran full speed down the alley and out of sight up the street.
        Feeling rather proud of herself she smiled and uncocked her weapon, twirled it around her hoof, and holstered it as the kid approached. “Thanks,” he said in awe, “I owe you.”
        “You might wanna avoid dark alleys if you’re gonna dress like that,” she said, patting the collar of his expensive-looking coat. “You might as well be wearing a sign that says ‘come rob me.’”
        The kid laughed sheepishly and brushed a speck of dirt from his shoulder. “Right, sorry.”
        “It’s a nice coat though. Your pa has good taste,” said Apple Bloom as she looked down the alley and spotted a pub across the street at the end of the alley. “So what town is this, anyway?”
        “I was going to ask the same thing,” said the kid as he uneasily looked back at the trains, “I meant to keep riding in the direction of Canterlot; I’m looking for a couple friends who went that direction a couple days back. I have to find a way there.”
        “Why not hop back on that train once Happy over there gets his prep done?”
        “Yeah, good call.”
        “Ah’ll keep him busy if you want. Ah owe him for that polite wake-up call of his.”
        “No, I’ve got this,” he said as he patted his chest proudly, “I’m pretty sneaky you know.” He jogged back toward the train yard, keeping low to stay out of sight behind some crates. “Thanks again,” he said, “I’ll pay you back one day. Promise.” With that and a peek around the corner he slipped out of sight back into the train yard.
        “Good luck, kid,” said Apple Bloom to herself and she headed for the pub. With everything that had happened today she hadn’t even thought of food, but now as she caught the scent of something cooking she found herself to be simply starving for a good bite to eat. She made her way out of the alley and into the street, looking around at the rather peaceful little town she had found herself in as she walked. The noticeable lack of ponies in the streets and the small, close-built and similar looking buildings instantly told her it was likely a company town which was finally some good news. If the majority of the folks were at work then nopony was likely to have heard the gunshot. She threw the door of Bon’s Appétit and found herself instantly greeted by a nearly empty pub filled with obnoxious upbeat music.
        Ugh. How do Equestrians listen to this garbage?
        The lone patron, an older mint-colored unicorn, was definitely enjoying the song; she was tapping her hoof on her table and rocking her head back and forth happily in time to the beat with a big grin on her face. Apple Bloom seated herself at the bar and was immediately greeted by an older beige earth pony with a two-tone mane.
        “Well, howdy there cowpoke,” said the mare, “What’s your fancy?”
        “Something good to eat and drink, if you’d be so kind. Ah trust you.”
        The beige mare winked and smiled. “You can count on me,” she said as she filled a mug from the tap, “Here, try this on for size while I fix you something special.”
        “Thanks,” said Apple Bloom as she pulled out a cigarette. “Mind if Ah smoke?”
        “Why?” chirped the happy unicorn from behind with a laugh, “Are you on fire?”
        The earth pony just rolled her eyes and looked Apple Bloom in the eye inquisitively. Apple Bloom lit her cigarette on one of the bar’s tea candles and took a deep drag of it while the pony stared at the apparently alien concept. “Well, just don’t burn my place down, ‘kay?” she said as she turned and headed for the kitchen.
        “Much obliged,” said Apple Bloom as she took a sip of her drink. It was overwhelmingly sweet with the distinct taste of pineapples mixed with some indefinable berry flavor, but not at all bad. She took another drink and movement caught her eye from the window to her left. She didn’t react in time to get a clear look but recognized the black and red armor regardless. Royal guards, two of them, and moving in a fireteam cover formation.
        ‘Wheeeeeeen the poooooonies can’t find the way, they looooook withiiiiiiin and they must say...’ droned the painful lyrics of the victrola, which almost drowned out the sound of the door opening and the slow clunk of armor-clad hooves making their way towards her. Apple Bloom stared forward and took a drag on her cigarette, nonchalantly pulling the hammer back on her pistol as she heard the happy unicorn drop from her stool and run out the door. The guard, a pale-orange pegasus with a two-tone blue mane, leaned on the bar beside her and stared uncomfortably.
        “Say, cowpoke, don’t I know you from somewhere?” said the beige mare as she came from the back. She went silent at the sight of the guard and, without another word, slowly backed into the kitchen.
        “Come with me,” said the guard. “Please.”
        “Is that a request?” said Apple Bloom between sips, “Or an order?”
        “Apple Bloom,” he said firmly, “You are under arrest.”
        She took another sip, “What are you charging me with?”
        “Murder.”
        “Fine,” she said as she finished her drink, “Ah’ll go quietly.” No sooner had she finished her pistol was drawn and aimed—
        —and the pegasus had already dropped beneath her hoof. He slammed his body into hers and rolled her over his shoulder, hurling her hard into the floor with enough force to make her cry out. She fired twice but he was too quick again; kicking a table over and diving behind it before she could get a bead on him. A metal cylinder was lobbed from behind his cover and hit the ground with a deadly, familiar clunk.
        Grenade!
        It spun and hissed white smoke that lit her lungs on fire and sent her into a coughing fit. Apple Bloom wretched and coughed, and ran blindly at the window straining to see through the streams of tears gushing down her face. She jumped and hugged herself, gritting her teeth as the glass exploded all around her, and fell to the ground of an alley gulping fresh air. In seconds she heard armored hooves and blindly fired once, twice, three times and hit nothing. What she could make out through her burning tears dove for cover behind a dumpster.
        They’re quick. Too quick.
        She inched backwards, pistol trained forward, waiting to shoot the first thing that moved. She expected another grenade, which she’d shoot out of the air the second she saw it, but nothing came. They had her figured; they knew exactly what she was planning. She fired once more at the dumpster to warn him to stay under cover and took a few more steps back as the troubling realization set in that these weren’t just guards. Apple Bloom had yet to have an issue with any of the royal guards yet, but the ones that patrolled the towns weren’t like this. They slouched about and used their mere presence to keep ponies in line. The way these guards moved and their quick reaction time, their calmness while being fired on, and how quickly they figured out her strategy was all clear evidence that she was dealing with trained veteran soldiers with serious combat experience.
        Something flew at her and she shot three times on impulse, hitting what she realized too late to be an empty soda can. She needed a plan and quick; no doubt the pegasus from inside had already strafed around to flank her. A quick flick of a tail from around the dumpster and she fired again, cursing her reflexes too late as the bullet harmlessly sliced through hair. She was running out of ammo and that was clearly the guard’s intent; she had to move now! There was a wooden palate leaning against the wall, keeping a pile of junk pressed precariously against the building which she kicked. As the junk crashed loudly to the ground she turned and ran as fast as she could. She kept her head down, eyes forward, and tore across the next street and between another pair of buildings. Left, right, right, straight, she kept moving trying to zigzag through the mess of alleyways and confuse her pursuers.
        She turned another corner, passed an old cart filled with assorted recyclables, and found that she was in a dead-end. It was a courtyard of some sort, with basketball nets set up at both ends and crude lines painted on the concrete beneath her. She stepped amid various bits of trash and past the lone window in the area, which was barred and inaccessible, to reach the only door in sight.
        Locked.
        It was too late to backtrack now; she would be caught for sure. All she could do was keep moving forward, even if shooting out a lock was a dangerous maneuver. The ricochet could be deadly and of course it would announce to her pursuers exactly where she was, but she had no choice. She carefully aimed and fired, flinching at the loud pwang as the bullet buried itself into the mechanism, and tried it. No luck; her pistol just didn’t have the kick behind it. She stepped back, took out her last string of bullets and reloaded, and silently wished she had Peppercorn’s high caliber revolver. She aimed again and—
        Clunk!
        She turned and aimed, and in the split second before she moved she couldn’t believe her eyes. It was the cart of recyclables from before, hurtling towards her through the air! She threw herself out of the way, cringing as it passed by her close enough for her too feel the wind it generated and literally exploded over the door she was trying to get through. She stood and aimed, freezing at the sight in front of her.
        A single pale gray pegasus, the largest she had ever seen, was slowly advancing on her. He was easily the size of Big McIntosh, possibly taller with a proportionate muscular build, and wearing sleeker black armor than his comrades with wide red trim and the emblem of swords crossed over a shield centered over his chest. He glared at her with chilling single-minded determination through his ornate helmet, one that was decorated with what could only be griffon feathers tucked into the crest, and she felt her pistol tremble and lower. It was the eyes; he had terrifyingly cruel purple eyes that seemed almost stained with aggression. He didn’t speak; he didn’t need to. The threat of death radiated silently from him.
        Apple Bloom aimed her pistol once more and he exploded into a sprint toward her, kicking from his slow walk with enough force to shave concrete from the ground with his armor-clad hooves. She fired three times before he reached her, one went wild and missed and the other two ricocheted harmlessly off of his armored body with loud showers of sparks. He swung his leg into her side—
        —and the next thing she knew she was airborne, twirling helplessly across the court in a cocoon of agony. What was left of the air in her lungs was crushed out with a guttural wretch when she hit the wall of the building. She fell limp to the ground gasping painfully for air, and heard loud thuds moving directly toward her. On instinct she threw herself out of the way and got to watch in horror as his hoof just barely missed her head and was swallowed up to the knee by the solid brick wall that she had hit only seconds ago. She steeled herself and fired over and over, her bullets hitting his armor and doing nothing. He didn’t even flinch as she withdrew his hoof, slowly turning to face her as dust and bits of brick rained from his hoof. She kept firing until she was dry, still hammering the trigger in a panic, barely even aware of the dull clicks of her empty weapon. All she could see was her last shot: it had sliced through the edge of his exposed shoulder and sent a fine mist of crimson from the wound, yet he, it, didn’t even wince or blink.
        He stared her down for a moment before dashing forward again, swinging at her over and over. Apple Bloom could barely keep up and swung in desperation with the butt of her pistol, which he blocked and landed a hard hit to her stomach. She was flung a good two feet and lost her grip on her pistol when she hit the hard concrete, and managed to look in time to watch him stomp on it. He slowly twisted his leg and the barrel bent with it as the wood handle splintered and tore apart like the husk being peeled from an ear of corn. Apple Bloom managed to resist the dull pain throughout her entire body which fought to pull her down and slowly stood, as he began his approach with that horrible death glare of his. All she could bring herself to do was slowly back away until she found herself against a wall. With nowhere to run she exploded toward him in one last-ditch effort; she spun on her legs and bucked him in the chest the way her sister had harvested her apples. Her hooves hit his armor with a loud clang but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t move, and didn’t even blink. Instead he wound up and punched her in the side of the head with a savage blow that sent her staggering backwards and into a heap on the ground. There was no sound anymore except for a painful ringing in her head and everything was a blur. She was lost in a world where her thoughts were spirals that danced randomly in her head; she could no longer understand that her pistol was gone and groped mindlessly at the holster she didn’t realize was empty.
        Dark blurs were slowly encroaching into her vision as if her eyes were falling backwards into her head. She tried one final time to stand, still grasping for the pistol she didn’t have, and her body gave out. The puckering darkness from the edges of her vision won and she didn’t even fell herself collapse to the ground.