The griffons fell in with the humans. John was next to Gilda, and her squadmates surrounded the group. The group continued on for a few more hours, before John called a halt. They took up residence in a mall, spread throughout. They lit fires, cooked and ate.
John found himself sitting next to the griffon leader, Gilda, who was tucking into a tin of condensed meat. "So, why are you all helping us then?" John asked Gilda, as she finished off the can.
"Well, we're way better guards then any pony, seeing as how we can shoot." Gilda flexed her claws. "The only ponies that can shoot your or our guns are the 'corns, and they wouldn't be able to get here fast enough."
"What kind of gun is that anyway?" John asked, pointing at the two side-arms strapped onto Gilda's torso.
"You'd probebly call them SMG's." Gilda pulled out the gun on her left side. "This is Tooth." She replaced it and pulled out the gun on her right. "And this is Claw."
"Very original." John commented.
"Yea, well they get the job done. What about yours?" She pointed to the assault rifle sitting next to John.
John laughed. "Naw, this is just a random rifle I picked up from storage."
"What about that?" Gilda pointed at the pistol in the holster on John's belt.
"Well, theres a long and boring story 'bout that."
Gilda laughed. "Stories about guns? They're the best kind."
"Well," John noticed the other people around the fire leaning in closer, incuding the other three griffons.
"Um, well," he turned to face the group. "This gun was originally held by my great-grandfather. He got it in World War Two."
"So he was an officer then?" One of the humans asks.
"Yea, one of the highest ranking ones. On the German side. He took it off an American officer that he killed."
John continued. "According to the 'Family Legend' he was a major player in every battle except those in Egypt."
"Why's that?" one of the griffons asked. Sparks, John thought he had been named as.
"Hated the heat. Said he couldn't breathe in it."
"How is that even..."
"I don't know." John stated, cutting in. "I'm only telling the story. Could be true. Maybe my granddad liked his whisky too much."
This raised a chuckle from more than one person, John included.
"At the end of the war, he fled Germany, and moved to England. He lived there for sixty years, then joined up with another force, British SAS, in order to redeem himself."
"Sixty? How do you live that long?" someone raised.
"Hell if I know. He was probably just a consultant or something. Anywho, since he couldn't have kids, after that, he adopted my grandfather. He got this gun when he moved away. Emigrated right here, and we've lived here ever since."
He continued. "We've passed it down the family ever since. Dad never had a chance to use it. He hated violence. He never shot it once, and as soon as I joined the army, he passed it down to me. My Brother was the same as my dad, became a scientist. So there wasn't really any competition for it."
"Has it got a name?" Asked Oz.
John Laughed. "Doesn't need one. According to my grandfather, his dad only ever used it on two Germans. His commanding officer from World War Two when he was in the SAS, and the big man himself. Hitler."
"Bullshit." Said one of the humans.
"No kidding. At least that's what's said. Could be some truth in it, could be lies." John shrugged. "Anyways, what about you guys," he said, turning to the griffons. "What stake do you have?"
Gilda smiled. "Like I said, We can shoot, and we can fly. It's a winning combination."
"Yea." John said. "But how do you get those guns? And the PADs?"
Oz piped up. "Most of us bought these."
John Smiled. "Those are military grade though. You don't just buy those off the streets. And if I'm not mistaken, yours," He pointed at Sparks. "Is a Black Tier PAD, complete with all the stuff that you 'stole' from the government. Am I right?"
Sparks, who had been quiet all this time, jumped at this. "Wha..."
"So," John went on. "Either you guys are in with the HLF, or you kill wandering Humans."
He pulled out his pistol and leapt at Gilda, shoving it under her beak and angling it towards the back of her head.
John smiled as Gilda struggled, trying to get something free. The other Griffins pulled out their assorted weaponary, and pointed them at John.
"You're crazy, you know that?" Gilda shouted in Johns face.
John laughed. "Crazy? No... Overprotective maybe. So, which one is it? 'Cause if you're working with the HLF, i'm going to have to keep you alive."
"Oi!" yelled a voice from behind John.
He turned around, noticing that it had come from the griffon Oz.
"These are all ours from before the conversion. Y'Know, when we became Griffons."
With this distraction, Gilda got a claw free, John had enough time to look down before her clenched talon smashed into the side of his head. John fell off Gilda, clenching his pistol tight, as he rolled a few metres away.
John looked at Gilda, as she looked at him. They held eachother in a staring match for the ages, the friction of the moment could have burnt brighter than Celestias sun.
The tension broke, as John started laughing loudly.
He got up, and walked over to where Gilda was still on the ground. He bent down slightly and offered his hand to her.
"Well aren't you the gentleman." Gilda remarked, as she grabbed into John's hand, squeezing slightly more than was most likely necessary.
John shrugged as he pulled her up to her feet, and then moved his hand away, and sat down.
Activity around the other fires resumed, as people realised the fight was over.
He sat back down, closer to the fire, and turned to Oz.
"What do you mean, 'became Griffons?'" He asked.
"We all went through the conversion."
"Griffon conversions?" John asked, looking at Gilda.
"Sure. What, you think conversion is only for ponies? Some people enjoy having hands."
"Are you a convert?" asked John.
Gilda laughed. "Nah, but the rest of my squad is. I was born griffon baby, and proud of it."
John nodded, taking all this into account. "Oh, and, sorry about, y'know, threatening your life and all."
Gilda laughed and stated simply. "It's no problem. If something threatened my guys I'd probably want it dead too."
She looked John dead in the eyes. "You aren't threatening us. Are you?"
It was John's turn to let out a laugh. "No, I'm all threatened up."
Gilda smiled. "Good. Now, as interesting as tonight's been, Me and my crew are gonna get some rest. We still got a coupla days before we hit the Bureau. And we've been flying for aaaaaaaaaaaages." Gilda punctuated this by sweeping a talon from one side of her face to the other, in a rainbow sort of way.
John nodded at the leaving group of griffons. Turning back towards his men.
"Charlie, Shaun, You're on guard duty for tonight. Ben and Jordan, you replace them after their shift.
He turned to everyone, addressing them as a large group. "Only a few more days guys. Then you'll be out."
Most cheered, yet John couldn't help but still feel anxiety at the coming day. There was so much that could go wrong.
_\!/_
The humans packed up and moved out at the same time as they always did. The griffons joined them further along the road, falling in the same way they had yesterday. Tensions, for whatever reason, between the Griffons and Humans had dissapeared almost completely, and the two races mingled freely. The humans asked about their new lives, what it was like in Equestria, what the Conversion proces was like, and other things. The griffons wanted to know about what had been going on in the human world. Which countries had collapsed, which leaders had resigned, and the general state of the human world.
Gilda, who had taken up walking next to John, had taken up a conversation with the soldier on the other side of her. John was able to listen in rather easily.
"So... what's it like being a griffon?' The soldier asked, still keeping his eyes ahead,
"Well, Its better than being a pony, for sure. I mean, It's nice that they're doing it, but it's too random. Some people enjoy being able to pick stuff up, and theres only a one-in-three chance of that happening in a pony conversion. Besides that, we've basically got the abilities of all the ponies, so really, you win everytime with our conversion."
"Huh." The soldier said, as he continued walking, now distracted by thoughts of conversion.
John mentally slapped himself as the Griffon's agenda came into clear view for him. They were attempting to attract others into conversion. He started to form a plan in his head. "Tomorrow, We'll set off earlier than normal, and stick to the underground, where they won't...' Johns thoughts died in his head.
'What am I thinking? I can't control these people. Goddam it.' John mentally slapped himself again, before returning his eyes to the road ahead looking for any signs of threat.
_\!/_
The group had stopped for lunch, when a static voice broke out from somewhere inside the crowd.
"Yea, just saw them moving up... They've got an armed convoy, nothing we can't deal with..." total silence rung throughout the people, as they all looked at Sparks, who was close to the middle of the spread out assortion. "Yea, those Griffons from yesterday are with 'em... Who cares? We'll kill the griffons and sign up the rest. They're obviously being forced into this."
The static ended, as everyone in the room looked around. Everyone had stopped where they were, everyone was silent.
A voice raised up. "So what do we do?"
John stood up on a piece of debris, shouting out. "It's okay everyone. We'll find a way around. Just stay calm, me and my men will find a safe path." John motioned for his men to follow, and nodded in Gilda's direction, signalling for her to follow.
Once they got outside and a decent distance away, John turned to the Griffons.
"What the fuck was that? Is this some kind of Joke?" John yelled, practically screaming in Gilda's face.
"You see me laughing?" Gilda asks, pushing John back with a talon.
John takes the push, and turns away, pacing. "Okay, okay." He points at Sparks. "How far can that thing pick up signals?"
Sparks shrugs. "A long way, though by the static, I'd say on the edges."
John paced some more. "Did any of you see these guys?"
In turn, all of the griffins shake their heads.
"So we don't know where they are, but we know they know we're coming." John put his face into his hands. "At least we have that."
He sat down on a nearby, rolled over trash can, and started.
"We need to know where they are. Then, we need to find a way around it. "
With a plan in his head, John relaxed.
"Ok. So. We'll keep the civilians here for the day, under guard of course. Then move foreward, sweeping for them. Once we've found 'em, we'll come back, and find a way around. Ok? Ok."
John got up, and started to move back inside. "Hopefully," he said over his shoulder. "It won't screw up."
'Like everything else I do.'