//------------------------------// // Chapter 29: Captured // Story: Brother Against Sister // by CartsBeforeHorses //------------------------------// “There’s a lot of blood,” said Pumpkin. “It’s an awful deep cut. We need to stop the bleeding. Hold on. This will hurt a lot.” Pumpkin removed the shards from her brother’s leg. Even more blood came out from the deep cut. There was something white underneath, and she didn’t know if it was bone or not. Her horn lit up as she fired a thin energy beam from her horn at the wound. The blood grew red hot and cauterized. The stench of burning flesh filled the air as steam poured out of the blood. “Aaah!” Pound cried. He stopped after a few seconds, once the heat went away and the pain became less, though still severe. “I don’t know if you can fly and carry me with a wound like that,” said Pumpkin. “Well... I can try,” he grunted. He hovered in the air and tried to grab Pumpkin as normal, but only got her front legs a small amount off the ground, but he yelped out in pain and dropped her back down. “Don’t worry about it,” said Pumpkin. “I’ll just teleport us. Let’s get to the bank.” The red-brick and concrete reinforced First Bank of Appleloosa building was the safest place in town. Its vault was practically impenetrable by physical means. Years of banditry many decades ago had forced the bank to invest in expensive security accommodations to stop robbers. The vault now provided a respite from the bombing and explosions. Pound and Pumpkin reappeared inside the bank lobby, standing in front of the giant round door of the vault, which was locked shut. “You couldn’t get... us into the vault itself?” asked Pound, pausing from the pain. “As much as a lot of ponies in this town might think that all unicorns are thieves, I’ve never actually been in there,” said Pumpkin. “You don’t want to teleport blind into a place you’ve never actually been. That’s the first thing Zecora taught me.” “She didn’t teach you not to teleport a wounded pony onto his hooves?” asked Pound, hovering off of the ground to take the weight off of his hoof. Pumpkin blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect us from the blast in time.” “It’s okay...” Pound narrowed his eyes, which were watery as he held back tears. Pumpkin said, “Here, this might help.” Her horn lit up, and just the injured portion of Pound’s hoof turned intangible. Pound’s jaw dropped. “The pain… it just vanished instantly! When did you learn that spell?” Pumpkin grinned. “It’s just a regular old intangibility spell. Neat little side effect, huh? I guess that since there’s nothing there where that part of your hoof should be, your brain just doesn’t register it. You never noticed it when you were flying around?” He shrugged. “Eh, not really. I don’t notice pain from physical exertion that much. You kinda get used to it when you fly a lot.” “Point taken,” she said. “Anyway, that should hold you off until you can see a doctor. I’ll keep it going as long as I can. Lucky for you, it’s a small enough area, so I can probably keep the spell going for at least an hour before I have to rest.” “Thanks so much, Pumpkin!” he said, giving her a hug. She blushed. “Don’t mention it.” “I won’t,” he said. “Seriously though, don’t mention it,” she said. “Every second grader with a ‘boo boo,’ every old pony with arthritis, and every prescription pain pill addict in town will be after me if you do.” Pound laughed. The twins entered the vault. It was about ten meters square, and had concrete walls, floor, and ceiling, which blocked out all sound from the outside. Sheriff Silverstar, Big Macintosh, and Applejack stood inside. All of them smiled upon seeing the twins. “Thank Luna y’all are okay!” exclaimed Applejack, running over to hug them. “Eeyup,” said Big Macintosh, joining in the hug. “Happy reunion ‘n all, but Cakes, I need a sitrep. I’ve been blind for the last hour sittin’ in this here safe with no windows, and y’all are the only two who have come since the Second Kingdom and Buffalo started launchin’ mortars at the town,” said the sheriff. “All of my other stallions have been too busy fendin’ em off, I guess. Or they’re dead.” He grabbed a map and unfurled it on the vault floor. Then, he reached into his pouch and pulled out a fresh wad of chewing tobacco, placing it under his lip. “We’re surrounded from all sides,” said Pound Cake, motioning with his good hoof towards the map. “They have who knows how many buffalo stirring up a lightning storm. And the unicorns are firing off mortars. We’re sitting ducks.” Applejack, Big Macintosh, Pumpkin Cake, and Sheriff Silverstar all sat down and gazed at the map as Pound motioned in a circle around it. “They’ve destroyed the saloon, the clock tower, the mayor’s office, the train station, and the barbershop,” said Pumpkin, drawing X’s through them with a pencil. “And those are just the ones that we know about. There are probably more.” “Tarnation!” the sheriff exclaimed, shaking his head in dismay. "What about casualties?" Pound said, "I'd say there are probably at least thirty ASDF dead." The other all shook their heads solemnly. “Land’s sakes,” said Applejack after a few moments. “That's a good chunk of our forces. This whole town’ll be a crater before sunrise tomorrow at this rate!” The sheriff gazed around the vault, his cheeks bulging, mouth pregnant with brown tobacco juice. “And to top it all off, there ain’t no place to spit in here! Back in my day, there were spittoons in every corner!” the Sheriff groused. “Eh, just spit anywhere. It’s not like we can stay in this town anyway; we’ll all be blown up,” said Pound. “I agree,” said Applejack. “We gotta high tail it. Question is, where to. Sheriff?” “Well, there’s no stayin’ in this bank vault forever, that’s for sure,” said the sheriff. His search for a spitting place on the vault floor proven futile, he reached into his vest pocket, pulled out a key, and walked over to his safe deposit box. He unlocked the small compartment and spat right into it. The other ponies gave him a funny look. “What? It’s mah personal box. And there was just some old rusty revolver in there, anywho. Nothin’ like the fancy machine guns we have nowadays.” “Why don’t you just switch to smoking?” said Pound. “It’s still a nasty habit, but at least it’s not as nasty.” “Can we get back on the subject here?” Pumpkin Cake asked. “We’re kinda limited on time.” The sheriff said, “Well, I say that we fan out from the town and attack ‘em from all angles. Right now, we’re here in this town which, on account of all the fires, is blazin’ bright as the flames of Tartarus, so they can see us to launch mortars and lightnin’ at us. But the more of us who can hide in the leaves of the apple trees, the more fight we can put up in the dark where they can’t see us. And they ain’t gonna attack the apple orchards as much as they have the town, since it’s the apples they invaded us for in the first place. We gotta go out there and fight.” “Fight for what?” asked Pound Cake, raising an eyebrow. “A pile of rubble and a bunch of skeletons? The unicorns and buffalo are leveling this town, Sheriff. You didn’t get a pegasus eye view of the town like I did, so let me tell you: it’s a mess. Ponies are dying left and right. We need to evacuate and save as many civilians as we can. Retreat and live to fight another day.” The sheriff narrowed his eyebrows, standing up from the vault floor. “I am a law enforcement officer, Pound Cake, and my duty is to defend the thin blue line! I leave all that other stuff ‘bout evacuations and civilians to the mayor, firefighters, and the doctor. Shoot first, ask questions later.” “That’s the kind of tone that allows for police brutality,” said Pumpkin Cake, also standing up. “Shoot anyone’s dog lately, sheriff?” The sheriff rolled his eyes. “Now who’s gettin’ off topic, Pumpkin?” She blushed. “Sorry. But in this case, the sheriff actually does have a point. We’re a militia. We’re supposed to fight. It’s not our job to save civilians directly, just to protect them from enemy fire long enough so that they can get themselves to safety. But we have to stand up to the Second Kingdom. I agree with the sheriff’s plan of moving our remaining town militia into the apple orchards. If Zecora taught me anything, it’s that if you don’t stand up to tyrants, they’ll just take more and more and more. You said it best yourself when you convinced me to sign up for the ASDF in the first place, Pound. Besides, where would we even retreat to with all of the civilians?” Pound nodded. “Good question. We’d go to Dodge Junction, of course. It’s miles to the east of here, and many times the size of Appleloosa. It has a hospital, and an actual Equestrian army battalion stationed nearby. We can regroup there. I can get treated, and so can all of the wounded civilians and militiaponies. Defending Appleloosa is a losing battle. There’s a reason that the Equestrian military never stationed troops here; it’s undefensible, both geographically and militarily. If we have even forty ASDF fighters left at this point, we'd be lucky. But who knows how many unicorns and buffalo are attacking us? Probably hundreds. And if Spitfire taught me anything, it’s that you pick your battles based off of strategy, not some hot-headed, losing crusade that has no chance.” “Hot-headed crusade?” the sheriff asked. “Then what do you call some gamble to play shepherd for a bunch of civilians across the desert? Sounds mighty like a crusade to me!” Pumpkin nodded. She said, “And think about it, Pound. Even if we somehow escaped with the civilians, where should we base our counterattack? The military base? They wouldn’t have us. Twilight wouldn’t even trust us with guns before, remember? We're an illegal group, so how do we know the Equestrians won't just disarm us, or worse, throw us in an internment camp? How about Dodge Junction itself? There’s even more civilians there than here! If we go off to Dodge Junction or hole up anywhere near there, we’d put thousands of civilians at risk from the Second Kingdom’s shelling instead of just hundreds like in Appleloosa! "By holding the line here, we stop them from advancing any further east and threatening any more cities. Today they go for the apple orchards of Appleloosa, tomorrow they go for the cherry orchards of Dodge Junction. We stop them right here, right now, or die trying. Twilight couldn’t see that it’s a good strategy, but maybe you can.” “If I might say a word,” said Applejack, standing up from the floor of the vault and walking over to Pound. “I appreciate yer tenacity, Pumpkin. I really do. But Pound here has got a point. Granny Smith can’t stay at the farm. We gotta get her to safety. Dodge is the closest place. They even have the real army there, too, like Pound said. The Second Kingdom took this long just to come after dinky little undefended Appleloosa; I doubt big ol’ protected Dodge Junction is on their to-conquer list anytime soon. Meanwhile, I can’t leave my granny behind, I just can’t! I’m really torn on account of conflictin’ loyalties to my town and my family, but family comes first.” “Eeyup,” said Big Macintosh, standing up and walking over behind Applejack and Pound Cake. “I hope that you come with me, Pumpkin,” said Pound. “If not, I’ll have to evacuate all these civilians in a cart myself.” Pumpkin Cake laughed, and pointed to his hoof, which she was still casting her spell on. “By yourself? You’re wounded, remember? You’re barely even in any condition to fly ten feet, let alone to Dodge, and let let alone with a dozen ponies in tow! I mean, I can cauterize a wound, but I’m no doctor. You need stitches, and you need rest. You might be able to fly for a little while, but that cauterization might not last forever, and if you exert yourself too much, you might start bleeding. If you leave, I won’t be there to help you, and you could bleed out and die.” Pound narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat?” Pumpkin blinked. “A threat? A threat? No! It’s reality! I’m telling you what will happen when I’m not there and you don’t see a doctor, and you’re trying to be superstallion and carry twenty civilians in a cart behind you all the way to Dodge Junction!” “It’s better than me and my granny and y’all bein’ bombed to death!” Applejack exclaimed. “Y’all don’t have to be bombed to death if you’d just help us take out these unicorns and buffalo!” the sheriff cried. Pound cried, “There’s too many! They have lightning guns! They’re recklessly bombing the city! They’re killing civilians! You two are so heartless! Do you even care? You just want them to die, don’t you! You—” Pumpkin Cake turned off her intangibility spell, and Pound cried out in agony as all of the pain came flooding back to his hoof. “—And now you’re torturing me!” he yelled, gritting his teeth. Sheriff Silverstar and Applejack, not knowing about the analgesic properties of Pumpkin’s intangibility spell, turned to each other in confusion. “Did we miss somethin’?” asked Applejack. The sheriff shrugged. Pumpkin screamed, “Really, Pound?Torturing? I was the one numbing your stupid hoof in the first place! And just because I don’t want to surrender to the Second Kingdom immediately, means that I all of a sudden want civilians to die and would enjoy their deaths like some sort of sadist? You’re so dense that it’s unbelievable. I won’t keep using my magic on you if you’re going to insult me and call me names!” “Oh, I’m ‘dense,’ and I’m the one who’s... name-calling? You’re such a hypocrite. And you are a sadist... And heartless. Using my hoof pain to… try to silence me and win your stupid argument. Ignoring the deaths… of civilians in this town, to go on some losing crusade,” he said in between labored breaths. He fell to the floor, his eyes closing. Pumpkin blinked as the sheriff stepped in between the arguing twins. “Enough is enough, y’all. Pound Cake, as the commander of this militia, I order you to go to the doctor immediately,” he said. “Pumpkin, since you’re his sister, I order you to escort him there and make sure he’s treated. Please make sure he’s comfortable on the way there. Come find me afterwards. I’ll still be here.” Pumpkin nodded. She picked up her brother, placed him onto her back, and headed out the vault door. “Applejack. As the commander of this militia, I order you to stay and fight the Second Kingdom. The civilians will have to find their own way to safety. We’re gonna make it as easy for ‘em as we can, by takin’ out as many of the unicorns and buffalo as we can.” Applejack shook her head. “You know that my granny comes first, Sheriff. And you know we can’t win this thing. Be easier for a pony to fit through the eye of a needle. I hereby quit the ASDF. I’m gettin’ Granny and high-tailin’ it to Dodge Junction.” Big Macintosh nodded along with Applejack. The sheriff shook his head. “Whatever you say. Nice knowin’ y’all, AJ, Big Mac. Hopefully I’ll see y’all again someday.” He extended his hoof out. Applejack and Big Macintosh shook it, and they walked out the door. “Well, that’ll have you fixed up good for now,” said Doctor Stitches, pulling the needle through the final stitch in Pound’s hoof. “Good thing that you came to me when you did. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Take it easy for a while. No quick flyin’ around.” “But… we have to rescue the civilians!” said Pound Cake, sitting up from the operating table, his eyes widening. He held his hoof up to his head, becoming dizzy. The doctor shook his head. He reached over with his hoof, pushing Pound back onto the table. “And no thinking disturbin’ thoughts. Think nice, calm thoughts so your heart beats nice and slow and those stitches don’t burst. And here, have an apple. You need to build up your blood supply again.” The doctor tossed a golden delicious in Pound’s lap. Then, he walked into another room to tend to another of his many patients. Pound shook his head. “I’m not hungry.” “I don’t want you to die,” said Pumpkin Cake. “Don’t make me force-feed you.” Pound waved his hoof in the air. “I won’t die; it’s just a flesh wound. I’m more concerned about the civilians, honestly.” The operating table and the surgical instruments rattled as an explosion thundered across town. Pumpkin groaned. “They can handle themselves. You, on the other hoof, can’t even eat that apple!” Pound leaned his head up to face Pumpkin, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on. I can eat the apple; I just don’t want to.” “I’ll bet you five bits that you can’t do it,” said Pumpkin. Pound narrowed his eyes. “You’re on!” He wrapped his good hoof around the apple and brought it to his mouth, taking a bite. Then, he took another. In short order, he had finished the whole thing. He grinned. “Where’s my money?” “I’ll get it to you soon,” said Pumpkin. “Right now, I need to go hold the line with Sheriff Silverstar.” “You won’t stay here with me?” asked Pound. She shrugged. “And do what? Even if this office is hit by a mortar, I might not be able to react in time with my intangibility spell to save either of us.” “Yeah, I’m living proof,” said Pound, chuckling as he held up his stitched hoof. “I’m more useful on the front lines. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon,” she said. “Okay,” said Pound. “Just stay safe.” Pumpkin nodded, giving her brother a quick hug. “I will. I promise.” Pumpkin Cake walked out of the doctor’s office, closing the door behind her. The sky was still dark, and the streets were lit only by the moon and the many burning buildings. She just hoped that the doctor’s office wouldn’t be hit before she got back. The streets were totally deserted, with nothing but debris and a few tumbleweeds blowing about. Pumpkin turned to walk west. She passed by abandoned building after abandoned building, the smell of smoke from burning fires filling her nostrils as the rumble from explosion after explosion rattled her nerves. Since nopony is on the streets, I guess they’ve all evacuated by themselves, she thought. She didn’t see a single other pony as she walked for another two minutes. But then, in the middle of the street, about twenty meters away, a shadowy stallion stood. He was entirely still, and was staring right at Pumpkin Cake. She froze in place, not sure what to do. It was too dark to make out who this stallion was. All she could see was firelight from a burning building reflected off of a pair of green goggles that he wore over his eyes. Then there was a flash of light. The stallion was gone. The unicorns are in the town! she thought. I have to warn Silverstar! Her horn powered up, and she vanished as well. “I’m telling you, sheriff, he was a unicorn. He teleported away. Right on the main street of Appleloosa. They’re sending in their forces right now. We need our snipers back in position in the town.” Sheriff Silverstar shook his head. “That don’t make no sense, Pumpkin. They’re still blowin’ the place to smithereens!” Another explosion went off in the town, shaking the ground beneath the bank vault. “See? They just bombed right then. Now why in tarnation would they go and send in their unicorns when they ain’t done bombin’ yet?” Pumpkin shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I saw. A pony was in town, staring straight at me, and he disappeared in a flash of light.” The sheriff chuckled. “And I’m telling you that Buckwheat here hasn’t seen any unicorns or buffalo in the town, except you and Little Strongheart’s crew, that is. And he’s a sniper who’s been out there until just five minutes ago when he came back to me, so he would’a seen any of them if they were here.” Buckwheat, an obese, beige pony with a yellow mane, the sole other occupant of the bank vault, nodded. A sniper rifle was slung over his saddle, and he had a single wheat stalk protruding from his mouth. “Are y’all sure that this stallion wasn’t just an earth pony who got caught in an explosion? Did you see his horn?” asked Buckwheat. “The flash of light was too bright to have been an explosion, and there wasn’t a boom,” said Pumpkin. “But I didn’t see a horn. I don’t know for certain he was a unicorn, but I’m pretty confident he was. All I know is that we can’t stay in this bank vault. This town could be captured at any minute.” “I agree with you there,” said the Sheriff, nodding. “We’re gonna go to the Farmstead residence right on the western edge of town. There’s an old barn we can hide inside of, and get a good vantage point of the buffalo and unicorns. Buckwheat can take out a whole army with that silenced rifle, as long as they don’t see him or the muzzle flash.” Buckwheat nodded. “The trick is gettin’ there,” he said. “We’re ‘bout a mile away.” “Well, I might be able to teleport us some of the way there,” said Pumpkin. “But I’m low on energy, and three ponies over a mile is pushing it.” “Whatever you can do would be great,” said the sheriff. “Okay,” said Pumpkin. “Here goes. I’m going to try to get us into the street.” She pursed her lips as her horn started to glow blue. About ten second passed as her horn glowed brighter and brighter. Then, suddenly, she and the others disappeared in a flash of light. Pumpkin reappeared down the street. She glanced up and saw that she had only made it about a hundred meters from the bank. “That’s all?” asked Buckwheat, glancing around and chuckling. “I coulda ran it in as much time.” “Try harder next time,” said Silverstar. “Sorry,” said Pumpkin Cake, putting her hoof up to her throbbing horn. “I’m just a bit tired. I’ve been using a lot of magic all evening.” An explosion burst off in the distance. “Well, giddy up!” said Buckwheat. “Else we’re li’ble to get blown up out here!” “Okay,” said Pumpkin. Her horn powered up once more as she narrowed her eyes. Sparks flew from her horn. It took about ten seconds, but finally, she disappeared. She reappeared about three hundred meters down the road, and grinned. “See guys, that one was...” She paused. Sheriff Silverstar and Buckwheat were still further down the road; she hadn’t managed to take them with her. “That’s not—" An explosion tore up the street about thirty meters in front of her. She was knocked back before she could react. “Aah!” she cried, as her back slammed into the ground. Pumpkin coughed as dust got in her eyes. A sharp pain shot up through her back as she realized that she had hit it on the dirt road. She breathed heavily, the wind knocked out of her from the explosion. There was a loud ringing in her ears, and dirt clods fell back to earth. “Pumpkin Cake!” She glanced up as Buckwheat and Sheriff Silverstar ran over to her. Sheriff Silverstar was in front, galloping madly, and Buckwheat was hurrying along as fast as he could, heaving and panting as the rolls of fat on his big belly jiggled along with his hoofsteps. Silverstar reached a hoof out and grabbed Pumpkin Cake, lifting her to the ground. “I’m… fine,” she panted, as Sheriff Silverstar ran up to check on her. “Just... a little... bruised.” “Sounds like you got the wind knocked out of you,” said Sheriff Silverstar. “I gotcha,” said Buckwheat. He reached over and picked up Pumpkin Cake with his hoof, placing her atop his back. “You… don’t… need to… do that…” Pumpkin said. “Like hell I don’t. Y’all need to rest. I’ll carry you,” said Buckwheat. “But… you…” Pumpkin started. Buckwheat chuckled, trotting along as quickly as he could towards the Barnstead residence, as Pumpkin blacked out. Another muffled gunshot awoke Pumpkin Cake. Her head jolted up, and her eyes darted around. She sat on a wooden floor. Her eyes adjusted to the dark slowly. Hay bales and farm equipment surrounded her. “Glad you’re still with us, Pumpkin,” said Sheriff Silverstar. “You passed out while Buckwheat carried you on his back.” “It was the cutest thing I ever done saw,” said Buckwheat. He glanced over from the window of the barn over towards Pumpkin, giving her a toothy smile full of holes. Pumpkin shuddered at the stallion’s creepy gaze. “Look, she’s blushin’,” said Buckwheat. “Ain’t that cute. Sheriff, why did y’all let this pretty young thang join up with an actual militia, anyhow?” “She and her brother have done a mighty lot more for me and this town than you have, Buckwheat,” Silverstar snapped. “Why don’t you get back up there in the hayloft and get to snipin’ again. Have you even hit a darn one of ‘em?” Buckwheat growled. “I’ve had over thirty confirmed kills!” The sheriff chuckled. “Confirmed by your own ego, maybe.” Buckwheat grumbled and headed back up to the hayloft, where he sat down on the wooden boards and aimed his scope out into the distance. “He’s actually really good,” Silverstar whispered to Pumpkin. “I ain’t never gonna tell it to his face, though. His ego might get so big it’ll explode. But you should watch the master at work.” Pumpkin glanced over as Buckwheat’s muzzle flashed, and a muffled gunshot whimpered from his silenced sniper rifle. Off in the distance, there was a scream. “Got one!” Buckwheat exclaimed. “Hush!” Silverstar urged. “Don’t give our position away, consarnit!” “Sorry.” Buckwheat returned to his position, and Silverstar turned to Pumpkin Cake. “Ain’t much for us to do except lay low and let Buckwheat do his job,” said Silverstar. “You go on back to sleep, now. Recharge your magic batteries, or whatever y’all unicorns have inside them horns. I’ll wake you if anything happens.” Pumpkin Cake nodded. She sat her head against a hay bale. The hay was scratchy against her mane, and flies buzzed in her ears, but she soon dozed right off. “I haven’t seen any since sunrise.” “Positive?” “Yup.” The sheriff chuckled. “Well, maybe your fat ass scared ‘em all off, then!” Pumpkin’s eyes opened as sunlight streamed through the barn from the east. She sat up. Her back was still sore, but her horn no longer hurt, and she felt that at least some of her magical energy had returned. “They haven’t gone!” she exclaimed. “They’ve captured Appleloosa, and there’s unicorns in the town! I saw one last night, but you wouldn’t listen. You’re looking the wrong way. Give me that scope!” Her horn lit up as she took the scope from the rifle. She darted over to the other side of the barn and looked through the scope, eyeing the center of Appleloosa off to the east. Nopony was in town. “See, there’s nopony there, neither townsponies nor unicorns,” said Buckwheat. “I’m a lotta things, miss Cake, but I ain’t stupid. I’ve been checkin’ that side of the barn, too. They’re still shellin’ the town. Ain’t nothin’ to worry y’alls pretty little head ‘bou—” Another explosion burst in the town. Pumpkin trained her eyes towards the building that had been hit: the doctor’s office. The roof was entirely collapsed as smoke poured out. “Pound!” she cried. “Aw, they blew up the doctor’s!” Buckwheat lamented. “Now where am I gonna get all mah pain pills?” “My brother was in there!” Pumpkin yelled. “I have to go back and save him!” The sheriff glanced at the building, then shook his head. “It looks pretty wrecked to me. I don’t know how an injured pony like him could survive that. I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “If there’s even a chance, I have to try, sheriff. You know that.” Before the sheriff could further object, Pumpkin Cake’s horn lit up and she disappeared. Pumpkin gazed at the wreckage of the doctor’s office. The front of the building was entirely destroyed. The roof had collapsed, with broken wooden boards and splintered fragments everywhere. It had been about a minute since the explosion, but she didn’t hear or see a single pony either in the doctor’s office or elsewhere in town. “But he might still be in there,” said Pumpkin. She walked forward. Pound’s room had been on the right side of the building, towards the back. I’ll walk around the side to the spot, then turn intangible, go in, and grab him. Simple, she thought. She took a step forward, but then paused as a sharp pain shot through her flank, right on her cutie mark. “What the…” Pumpkin turned to her flank. It wasn’t bleeding. The pain had vanished the second after she had felt it. And there was a single metal dart sticking out of her flank, with a red feathered shaft. And now, her flank felt totally numb. “Why was I hit wiv a dawt? What ih gong ah—.” Her mouth drooped, and she fell to the dirt. She tried to move her hooves, power up her horn, or do anything. But it was no use. Her body would not respond to her commands. She was entirely paralyzed, and couldn’t even blink. There were many hoofsteps behind her, crushing the sand below as they drew nearer. A male voice said, “Confirmed. Target is down. Safe to proceed.” The hoofsteps came even closer, and then circled around the front of Pumpkin, until she saw their source. A blue pony towered over Pumpkin, with a devilish grin on her face. “Looks like I’ve finally captured you, Pumpkin Cake,” said Trixie.