Chapter 24: Blood Price
Stivers stared at the pegasus for a few seconds, his jaw hanging in disbelief. “A what?”
“It’s a dragon.” Golden Sword repeated, keeping his eyes locked on the shape as it slowly grew larger, closing the distance with each sweep of its vast wings. “A big one. If you’ve got any speed in these machines, Captain, now’s the time to use it, I think.”
“Oh, Christ.” Stivers grabbed at his throat microphone and activated it. “Charlie, we have a problem. Check your six.”
“Roger.” There was a heartbeat of silence, then another. “What the hell is that thing?”
Stivers looked at the pony next to him on the wing, then back at the windscreen. “Sword says it’s a dragon. A big one. And he doesn’t recommend hanging around to say hello.”
“A what?” The radio crackled in Stivers’ ears, and the Marine winced. “Say your fuel state.”
Stivers looked down at the ruined instrument panel and tapped the partially obscured fuel gauge. “I’m in the red already.” He kept his voice steady. “How much is that?”
“Not enough.” Taylor’s voice was flat, the emotionless voice of an executioner. “At full throttle that’s only gonna give us a few minutes. Target’s closing too fast.” The lieutenant’s plane drew in closer, and Stivers could see him talking to one of the ponies on the wing. They all glanced around, the startled looks on their faces evident as Taylor’s voice came over the radio again. “Same over here. We’ll have to engage and then give you a chance to get clear, ditch someplace open and then hide.”
“The hell you say,” Stivers snarled. “You can’t take that damned thing on by yourself. You ain’t in a Hellcat, Charlie. These damned busses aren’t meant for dogfights.” Stivers noticed Sword staring at him intently and leaned over to shout over the wind. “Taylor says he wants to try and draw it off, distract it. Give us a chance to get a little farther and find a safe place to land and hide, maybe.”
Sword shook his head. “That won’t work. With only one opponent, it’ll finish him off quickly and chase us down. It won’t quit as long as it has a foe in sight. And if it spots us on the ground it’ll just hunt us down one by one.” He glanced behind them again. The dragon was less than a mile behind and still closing. Sword could see the features of the beast’s face clearly now, even at this distance. The eyes seemed to focus on him, and he shivered.
“Well, if you have any ideas, you better say something fast,” Stivers said tightly. “My gas tanks aren’t getting any fuller, and we’re running out of time.”
The pony abruptly reached a decision. He waved a foreleg carefully at the other plane until he had the attention of his squadmates, then pointed back at the approaching dragon. Moving his foreleg in a circular sweep, he then brought it back to point straight forward, then pointed skyward five times. He waited until he saw Midnight acknowledge him, then leaned back towards Stivers. “Get ready to run, Captain. Go as fast as you can, as far as you can, then land and hide. Hide quickly. I don’t know how long this is going to work.”
“What?” Stivers looked at him, wide-eyed, then looked behind them again. “Wait, what are you going to do?”
“My job. You have your orders, Captain.” Sword crouched down low on the wing of the bomber, preparing himself.
Midnight acknowledged Sword’s signal, her insides turning cold. She glanced across the aircraft at Star. The other pegasus looked behind them, then looked back and met her gaze, nodding at her, his face expressionless.
She took a deep breath, then leaned close, raising her voice to be heard over the slipstream. “Taylor, look at me.”
Taylor glanced over at her, his head cocked to one side as he listened to Stivers’ voice spouting what seemed to be a string of insanity into his ears as the other pilot relayed Sword’s instructions. The lieutenant pushed one of his earphones aside, his eyes flicking to the rear where their pursuer had closed the gap to a half-mile. “What?”
Midnight reached up and removed the Pentachoron talisman from around her neck, the golden chain that Terrence had given her to wear it on whipping wildly in the wind. It threatened to slip off her hoof and she grabbed at it with her teeth, her expression almost feral as she leaned farther and stuck her head in the cockpit, dropping the priceless gem in Taylor’s lap. “Take this.”
Taylor jumped, clawing at the necklace and seizing it before it could slip down to the floor of the plane. “Midnight, what are you—”
“No time. Take it and get back to Equestria.” She looked at him, and their eyes locked. “Get back home.” She straightened back up, a lock of her mane working free from under her helmet and whipping in the wind. “Now go, and don’t look back.”
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t look back.” The pegasus stood upright, looked across the bomber at her commander, and waited. Two more seconds. One.
“Midnight! Wait!”
She and Star leapt up simultaneously and were gone.
The four pegasi jumped free of the bombers, arcing upward into the clear blue sky and coming together neatly in a vertical climb that took them well clear of the aircraft as they roared away. They fell backwards slowly, coming up and over into a loop that carried them back towards the oncoming beast, each of them rolling to fly upright again and facing their attacker.
Sword glanced across at his squadmates. Each of them was in perfect formation now, flying in a modified Celestial Star pattern less than half a wingspan from each other, with Star on the outside right where Shadow had been accustomed to fly, and Hoof on the left. Midnight was next to him, her gaze fixed forward, the mare remaining silent as they bored in on the dragon.
“Time to go to work, then.” Golden Sword unhooked the clasp on his scabbard and pulled his weapon free, and the other pegasi did likewise. “Midnight, up and over. Hoof, you and I go in close on the left. Star, stay on the right. Get a shot at his eyes if you can.”
Shining Star nodded, his spear out and aimed, the point moving slowly through the air as he fought to keep it on target in the slipstream. “I’ll bury it in his brain, sir. Just say the word.”
“The word is distraction. The longer we keep him busy, the longer the humans have to get clear.” Sword looked at the grim pony on the right wing of the formation and raised his voice to a shout. “Make it count!”
“HAR-AIIIIII!” They all lifted their voices as one and dove at the onrushing behemoth, the neat formation splitting apart at the last second like a gleaming flower. Midnight pulled up sharply, climbing nearly vertically with her bow arched and singing as she began unleashing a rain of darts at the creature’s face. Sword and Hoof tucked their wings and rolled, feeling the heat of the dragon’s breath on their fur and feathers as the scaly face blurred by them. Sword slashed at it, his weapon ringing off the creature’s armored hide and nearly shaking itself from his grip.
Crimson Hoof had flipped almost completely around and swiped hard at the beast’s side with his sword, jabbing at it rapidly and hoping to score a lucky hit on an eye or ear, but it was past him before he could get into position and his blows thumped harmlessly against its shoulder. He rolled clear and saw Star just below him, the pony cursing as he tried to land a blow against the monster’s chest.
It was past them then, its tail whipping in a flurry of rage, and they swooped back up and rejoined formation as they watched it arc around slowly, its huge wings tilting as it banked.
“Well, I think we got his attention,” Hoof panted. “What now, sir?”
“Let’s give him something to chase.” Sword grinned humorlessly, his jaw muscles clenching visibly. “Come on!”
They shot away back toward the mountains from which they’d recently escaped, and the dragon straightened out and arrowed after them, closing the distance with frightening speed. Midnight rolled over in mid-air and got off a shot, the arrow whipping past the monster’s face to carom off one of the massive forelegs. “Sir, he’s on us!”
“BREAK!” The four pegasi split again, banking away in separate directions. Hoof and Star tucked their wings and headed toward the ground while Sword and Midnight curved up and over, straightening out to head on opposite courses. The dragon checked its flight momentarily, then swept its wings down hard and arced to the left, toward Sword.
Sword glanced quickly over his shoulder at it and laughed breathlessly, then stretched out and flew, his wings pumping rapidly for all the speed he was worth. His tail streamed out behind him, flicking this way and that in small movements as he steered, and the pegasus began twitching his wings randomly, his tiny form jinking up and down, left and right in odd patterns. He had just flicked his right wing and shot down a few feet when he felt the fur on his back legs tingle, and the pony tucked and dove as the dragonfire blast blew past him, superheating the air where he had just been.
“Too slow, you old wyrm! Try again!” Sword rolled and dove again, feeling his armor pinch against one flank where the heat had warped the metal. “Come on! One more shot, just for old times’ sake!” He looked back over his shoulder and saw the creature’s eyes dilate as it breathed in—
—and then it jerked backward, roaring in mixed pain and fury as an arrow embedded itself in one of the red-rimmed nostrils. Midnight blurred past, diving down from on high and passing them both from left to right.
“My turn!” The pegasus twisted lithely, rolling over on her back, her wings still pumping madly as she tried to aim, but the dragon twisted itself around, matching her movement and dove, its wings tucking down to its sides. “What the hay... ?”
She heard Sword’s warning yell and tucked her bow away, spinning and twisting as she moved to head in his direction. The dragon reversed its turn, matching her movements and was closing in on them both rapidly, and the mare realized they would both be easy targets if she didn't act quickly. Midnight’s wings tucked in hard and she looped away from Sword, straightening out to head away from him again. She glanced over her shoulder and almost came to a stop in mid-air as she saw the dragon change direction again, arrowing in toward her commander. “Captain!”
“That’s right you flying pusbag, come on in.” Golden Sword bared his teeth at the enormous beast as it approached, the faces of long dead comrades from his former company rising in his mind. He could almost feel their eyes on him as he twirled his sword and floated in place, poised to strike. “By Celestia, you’ll remember the names of Captain Wind’s company before I’m done with you today. I’m going to carve them into your stinking HIDE!”
The pegasus slapped his wings violently forward, kicking out to propel himself sideways as he jinked out of the dragon’s path and prepared to swing, intending to go for its eye as it flew past. The wyrm caught the movement and rolled in response, however, jerking away and emitting a gout of flame that boiled out at Sword in a rolling cloud. The pony folded his wings reflexively, trying to drop away, and he screamed out in pain as the edges of the blast rolled past him. He could smell burnt fur and feathers as he plummeted downward, his nerve endings thrumming in pain, his wings refusing to extend and bear him aloft again.
Sword watched the ground approaching through a dim haze of agony. Failed again. I’m so sorry... He still held his weapon clenched in one forehoof and he sheathed the blackened sword absently out of rote habit. So sorry...
Pressure seized him around the middle and he cried out again in pain and surprise, his wings finally flicking out in reflexive reaction and beating at the air weakly. His descent turned into a slow arc as he felt himself rising again. A low, calm voice spoke from just behind his left ear. “Just hold still, sir. I’ve got you.”
“M-Midnight?” Sword turned his head to look at her, but stopped, his eyes widening. “It’s coming again. Drop me and go!”
“No. I’m not leaving you.” Midnight’s wings beat at the air as she fought for altitude, and she risked a glance behind her. Her heart sank as she saw the dragon boring in on them, ignoring the diving swoops of Crimson Hoof and Shining Star as they nipped at its flanks with repeated attacks. The soulless eyes met her own and held her fixed, unable to look away. She slowed, hovering in place, staring at it.
It blinked.
Midnight opened her mouth, wanting to scream something at it, something defiant, but the world was suddenly filled with a roaring thunder, and she could feel a low vibration inside her lungs as she drew in breath. The sensation peaked as a blue and silver blur soared overhead from behind her, a loud chattering coming from winking flares of fire along the wings of the Avenger. Brass casings twinkled viciously in the sunlight as they poured from the wings, machine gun fire pelting the wyrm from shoulder to tail. The bomber shot past the dragon and the creature curled up reflexively, emitting a defensive snort of flame that barely missed the tail of the aircraft as it banked away.
“That’s right asshole, come play with me, now.” Stivers turned his head, looking over his shoulder and watching Taylor’s strafing run pull up short, the other pilot yanking his aircraft up hard to keep from plowing into the writhing monstrosity. “Watch it Charlie, I think you got his attention.”
“No shit, Dick Tracy.” Taylor’s bomber did a complete barrel roll and settled back again, sliding into formation as the two Avengers moved off, regaining speed. “Okay, here he comes. Get ready to do a Thatch weave. Howie, Gallivan, see if you can sting him a bit.”
The radio crackled with affirmatives, and Stivers glanced quickly at his fuel gauge. Shit. “Needle’s bumping on empty, Charlie.”
“No time to worry now. Stick with it as long as you can.” Taylor’s bomber waggled its wings. “If I get a clean shot, I’m gonna see if I can give him a poke with a couple of five-inchers. The goddam bullets are just bouncing off him and pissing him off.”
The aircraft’s frame shook as Gallivan squeezed off a ranging burst from the aft turret. “Shit. Not yet.”
Stivers fought with the urge to firewall the throttle and run like hell. It wouldn’t do him any good, and he didn’t have the gas for it anyway. All they could do was try to distract the dragon and keep it from focusing in on either of them while trying to get a lucky shot in, somehow. “Taylor, I gotta admit, this ain’t what I signed up for when I walked in your class.”
The radio crackled with the other pilot’s laughter. “Wasn’t it a Marine who asked ‘who wants to live forever?’”
“Yeah, that was Dan Daly. And they were charging a machine gun nest,” Stivers growled. “I was kinda trying to avoid that heroic shit today.”
“Tough titty, said the kitty, when the milk ran dry.” Taylor’s voice became flat and businesslike again. “Thatch weave, now. Do-si-do time.”
The two aircraft began weaving back and forth across each other’s flight path, one banking right while the other banked left. The swooping maneuver became wider and wider, their courses increasingly diverging, then coming together and separating once more. Where before they had made a single enticing target, they were now two separate entities. The dragon behind them would have to pick one of them to chase, as even dragons couldn’t be in two places at once. It would have to pick, choose, and pursue, and this would give the other aircraft at least one chance, maybe two, to take a shot and make it count.
Making it count was going to be one bitch of a job, though. Stivers kept sneaking peeks over his shoulder as the dragon flashed into sight and then out again with his maneuvering. The frigging thing wasn’t like a Japanese Zero, whose maneuverability was what the maneuver he and Taylor were executing had been designed to defeat. Zeros weren’t sixty feet long, however, and they also didn’t squirm in mid-air, which made getting a solid hit on the animal a tough prospect. Stivers heard the ball turret behind him chatter rapidly, stop, and then bark again as Gallivan tried to reach out and touch the scaly hide with a leaden caress.
“Cap, I can’t tell if I’m hurtin’ him or not.” Gallivan squeezed off another burst and cursed again. “I’m gettin’ a good line of tracers, but the friggin things are bouncing off. This sucker’s actually got armor plating or something goin’ for him.”
“Just do the best you can.” Stivers ducked, cursing as Taylor’s plane whipped by overhead as their courses converged and split again. “Jesus, you do that again Charlie, I’m gonna be wearing your ass for a hat.”
“Gimme another pass.” Taylor’s voice was clipped and short. “I almost had a bead last time. One or two more should do it. I think he likes you.”
A blast of fire shook the aircraft, and he jinked away, feeling sweat roll down his cheeks.“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Stivers snarled. The temperature inside the cockpit had risen appreciably, even with the cold air streaming in the open canopy. “You mind getting him off me before he crawls in here and starts having tea with us?”
“Bring it around one more time.” Taylor’s tone abruptly became cold and toneless. “Twenty seconds and Señor Lizard will be breathing fire out of his ass.”
Stivers felt the airframe shake around him and heard his engine sputter. “I don’t think I have that much time.” He reached up and tapped the damaged fuel gauge, and the needle jumped and fell against the peg on the left side of the indicator, far past the large red E. “Fuel’s gone.” The engine coughed again and quit, the propeller windmilling rapidly, and Stivers reflexively tugged the controls, feathering it to reduce drag.
“Hang in there. Ten seconds. Bring it right.”
“Trying.” The only sounds were his own breathing, the creaking of the aircraft and the wind rushing past as he banked sluggishly, the nose dipping.
“Pull UP!” A swirl of static clouded the radio momentarily, then cleared. “... aid pull UP! He’s diving on you! You’re in my line of fire!”
“Sorry, Charlie. I’m deadstick and goin’ down one way or the other.” Stivers moved the stick carefully, beginning a gentle arc down toward the dunes below. “Take your shot.” He clenched his teeth, waiting, as Gallivan’s machine gun opened up behind him, a long, chattering burst that seemed to drag on forever.
“Take your shot.”
Taylor screamed in frustration and squeezed the front trigger on the joystick gripped in his right hand, the Avenger shuddering as the .50 caliber slugs poured out of the twin guns mounted in the wings. They converged neatly on the small of the dragon’s back, but the beast merely flicked its tail in annoyance and continued following Stivers’ plane down. “Get off of him you bastard!”
There was an abrupt surging in its movements, and the dragon twisted, coming to a near stop in mid-air, its wings beating rapidly. Without thinking, Taylor jammed his thumb down on the other button on his joystick. There was a hollow whoosh from both sides of his airplane as a pair of the rockets mounted underneath the wings ignited and shot away. He watched the smoke trails as they passed under the behemoth’s legs and impacted on the desert floor in a brilliant fireball. “DAMN IT!”
Jerking the stick to the left, he banked and narrowly missed ramming the massive wing as it flailed at the air feet from his cockpit. Thompson’s turret gun opened up as they sped away, and Taylor righted the aircraft quickly, craning his head to look around. “Where is it?”
“Come around, Ell-Tee! It’s headed off the other way!” Thompson’s voice was high and excited. “It just passed over the other plane and left it alone. I think it’s chasing another one of the ponies again!”
Taylor banked hard, grunting as the G-forces pressed him back into his seat. He caught a flash of blue from one corner of his eye as they banked over the desert floor. Easing out of the turn, he kept the aircraft rolled to one side and watched as Stivers’ Avenger skipped off the top of a dune, raising a cloud of dust as it bellied into the sand. It slewed sharply and passed out of sight behind him, and Taylor returned his attention to the windscreen ahead. “Check the port side. See if Stivers is okay.”
There was a momentary pause, and then Thompson let out a yell through the headphones that nearly deafened his pilot. “They did it! Plane’s down in one piece. Well, mostly. I think the tail’s broke. But it’s down, sir! I can see ‘em movin!”
“Thank Christ.” Taylor angled the aircraft to starboard; he could see the dragon twisting and turning as it moved in pursuit of a small speck just ahead of it. The speck bounced and jigged, and he saw several near misses as the beast angrily spat gouts of flame. “Whoever the hell that is, they have to be out of their friggin’ mind.” Movement tugged at his vision, and he glanced quickly to the left and saw three pegasi just off the port wing, angling toward them. The outside two were supporting the middle one, his armor blackened and scorched. A few seconds later, they drew close enough for Taylor to visually identify them. The middle one was Golden Sword, the pegasus pointing at the dragon with a forehoof and screaming something at Taylor.
Taylor glanced back at the fleeing speck ahead, feeling the blood drain from his face. “Oh my God.” He jammed the throttle forward with a hard jerk, and the engine howled in response.
Midnight risked a quick look behind her and immediately wished she hadn’t. The dragon’s face was twisted in fury, one eye shut and streaming a thread of ichor back into the wind as it pursued her.
This was NOT what I had planned at all.
She’d dropped in neatly on it as the dragon had been gliding along behind Stivers’ aircraft and slammed an arrow home before the thing even realized she was there. She had just nocked her bow and was preparing to take out the other eye when Taylor’s rockets zipped past and exploded, the resulting shockwave jarring her grip loose and sending both bow and arrow spinning down to the sand below them.
She tilted one wing slightly and curled herself up, tail flicking out for balance as another blast of flame screamed past her left side, singeing Midnight’s fur and making her cry out in terror. Her muscles ached, and she was gasping for every breath now, the air burning in her throat. Dipping down, she sought to try to regain some speed and could feel the immense weight of the wyrm behind her, following her every move.
I am really running out of ideas here, she thought. There was a glint off to her left and she looked over, seeing the distant form of Taylor’s aircraft as it turned in their direction. Glancing behind her again, she nearly froze as the dragon met her gaze, its remaining eye glittering with mingled hate and triumph.
It was well within fire range now, but this time the monster didn’t breathe, didn’t cover her in a rolling swarm of flame to consume her, changing feather and fur to ash. It just lingered, slowing down and moving to cut her off each time she tried to turn. She had wounded it, she had hurt it badly, and now it meant to make her pay for her insolence. She shivered as she saw the scaly, purple tongue flick out and lick over the immense jaw.
Okay. That might work, then.
Lithely twisting around in mid-air, she slowed and flew backward, facing the beast. “Come on, then,” she yelled at it, her voice cracking on the last word. She crossed her forelegs in front of her and waggled them in a gesture that would have started a fight instantly back in Canterlot. “You raggedy-assed split-tailed piece of filth. Are you too old to chew? Do you have to gum your food to death?” She drifted slowly to her left, trying to keep the dragon’s gaze on her.
It hissed and opened it’s mouth, the maw parting to reveal multiple rows of gleaming teeth. Its breath bellowed over her, warm and nauseating with the stench of carrion, of fallen heroes and long dead dreams. She could see the dark gullet, and the dim licking of fire behind, but the fire was banked. She realised it didn’t intend to burn her, or even chew. The thing was going to swallow her whole.
“Come on, then,” Midnight repeated. Her own wings, trembling with fatigue, flicked once more, and the dragon’s head twitched as it followed her movements. Perfect. She stopped, hovering, and gave a kick to slowly turn herself until the beast was at her back.
“Any time now,” she muttered. “Any time.”
Taylor leveled out from his bank and bored in on the rapidly growing form of the dragon. It had stopped, for some reason, and was just... sitting there. He let his thumb run restlessly over the hot button on top of the control stick and frowned, leaning forward. It was a perfect target, and if it just stayed still a few more seconds, he would be in range. He still had six of the high-explosive rockets under his wings, and if six of those babies didn’t knock that bastard out of the air, he didn’t know what else would. But why had it just... stopped like that? It went against all the laws of combat. When you were engaged, you never, ever slowed down, because if you did, then you were toast. He’d seen it happen to a few of his friends, they would get a fat target lined up, then slow down, fixated by the sight of the enemy in their crosshairs.
Then he knew. Taylor lurched in the cockpit, screaming at his windscreen. “Midnight, no!”
The pegasus held herself in place, hovering, even that effort seeming a relief after all of the twists and turns she’d put herself through. The sun felt warm on her fur, the sky bluer than she had ever remembered it, a sky meant for flying in, but flying was done now. Midnight remained still, living bait to hold the dragon’s attention and keep it still long enough for Taylor to get a clean shot at it with the weapons he carried with him. She watched as the Avenger bomber bored in on them, the wings twitching a bit as it lined up on its attack run.
Yes, I see you too, she thought. I’m sorry about this. She felt the dragon’s breath on her wings again, and screamed up at the blue and silver glint. “SHOOT IT, FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE! SHOOT IT NOW!”
She heard the whickering hum of the propeller and closed her eyes.
Taylor could see her now, actually see her, hovering there. His thumb twitched over the button again, and he saw her yelling at him, her mouth open. He started to press the button, then waited an extra half-second before punching down on it hard with his thumb, again and again.
Both wings of his aircraft disappeared momentarily in a cloud of white smoke as the remaining six rockets burst from their rails in a rippling sheet of fire. Two arced down, one narrowly missing the pegasus as they curved away and fell out of sight. The other four flew true, passing on either side of Midnight Arrow and slamming into the body of the dragon behind her. There was a series of staccato crunching sounds and then the warheads exploded, sending a sheet of flame, torn flesh and black ichor in all directions. The dragon was shoved bodily backward in the air, its chest a twisted and blackened ruin as it tumbled away.
Midnight felt a large, warm envelope of air wrap itself around her body and push, shoving her roughly and sending the pegasus tumbling through the air. She struggled to right herself, kicking out with a hind-hoof as her wings flicked out to full extension, stabilizing her and stopping the spin. She looked back and saw the dragon’s shredded body dropping, the limbs limp and lifeless. The wings flapped aimlessly, twisting up and around as the wyrm’s corpse fell toward the desert below. One wing flipped up and she saw it clearly, the sunlight shining dimly through the membranous skin between the wing joints.
It caught the port wing of Taylor’s Avenger as the bomber roared past, shearing it off at the root. The aircraft shook and began spinning, twisting and turning as it flipped completely over, pieces of aluminum and steel trailing out behind it. The bomber flew backwards awkwardly for a moment, and then began shredding itself, the tail ripping free and coming completely apart. The remainder of the fuselage spun down slowly, flipping once more before bouncing against the rim of a dune and digging a trench into the desert surface.
Midnight Arrow hung motionless in the air, her jaw agape as she watched the smoking remains of Taylor’s aircraft slide to a halt. Kicking out with a hindhoof, she shifted in mid-air and dove, her ears flicking as she heard a low keening sound coming from somewhere underneath her, the death-rattle of the dragon’s last breath as its ruined form crashed to the ground behind her.
She landed awkwardly, touching down too fast and losing her footing on the sliding sand, and the pegasus tumbled down the slope of the dune, her helmet bouncing free and rolling away. She ignored it, rolled upright and began sprinting toward the shattered hulk of the airplane. “Taylor? Thompson?” The treacherous surface under her hooves slid again, and she dug in, slowing herself, barely managing to stop a moment before she would have careened into the smoking fuselage. The rear portion of the aircraft was totally gone, ragged fingers of aluminum and steel pointing in random directions from just behind where the rear turret sat. The neat dome of the turret was shattered, the normally clear surface turned milky and obscure with odd shaped star patterns where it had fractured on impact. Midnight picked her way through the wreckage, peering into the opening torn into the aft section. “Thompson? Can you hear—”
Midnight cut herself off in mid-sentence, her gorge rising.as she turned to look away. The gunner’s bloody remains had been visible for a moment, clasped in a deadly embrace of torn metal where he had been crushed when the plane had impacted with the ground. The one glance had been enough to tell that the Marine was far beyond help. Her chest hitched and she made a thick sound in the back of her throat, backing away and coughing raggedly. She took a couple of deep breaths, then moved toward the front of the plane. The torn stub of the port wing rung hollowly under her hooves as she stepped up onto it, trying to peer through the mass of twisted metal and broken glass into the cockpit.
“Taylor? Can you hear me?” She took a few more steps along the edge of the wing, then steeled herself and drew even with the cockpit. “Taylor?” She looked over the edge of the compartment, and froze, staring uncomprehendingly. The seat was vacant, the restraining straps torn and tattered as they flapped in the breeze. The control stick had been snapped off clean, and the front windscreen was shattered and coated in a thin sheen of blood. Of the pilot, there was no sign.
Midnight backed away in confusion and nearly tumbled off the broken fuselage, her wings flicking out reflexively and lifting her into the air. She glanced around rapidly, seeing only the wreck of the plane and bits of metal and other debris scattered in the sand around her. “Taylor?” she called out again, her voice rising in fear and frustration. “Taylor, where are—” Her eyes locked on a crumpled pile of debris that lay in the sand, almost halfway buried where it had been thrown, sliding into the in the next dune ahead and leaving a bloody trail behind it.
“Charlie?”
A single sweep of her wings propelled her over the ruined Avenger and toward him, what had looked like a crumpled mass of wreckage suddenly recognizable as a human being, but the shape was all wrong, hunched oddly with angles where none had been before, the legs twisted into unnatural directions and looking nothing more than like a filly’s toy doll that had been tossed away carelessly into a corner. She landed next to him, her ears twitching as she heard a low voice saying no, no, no over and over again, and realized it was her own. “Charlie?”
His right eye opened slowly, the brilliant blue gleam of his gaze moving aimlessly for a moment before looking in her direction. The left eye simply stared in another direction, the pupil so dilated that there was only a thin blue ring between it and the bloodshot sclera. The entire left side of his face was a mass of blood where the frame of the windscreen had torn his scalp open, and it looked almost as if he’d been kicked in the face on that side, his features twisted and swollen. His throat worked for a moment, and then he spoke, his voice raspy and torn. “You okay?”
She nodded at him jerkily. “I’m fine. Don’t talk Just hold still.”
Taylor’s chest heaved, and she ran to his side, then realized he was trying to laugh. “... ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He coughed, a bright spray of crimson flying from his lips. “C’mere. Got something. For you.”
“Charlie, stop talking. You’re making it worse.” Midnight had only a rudimentary knowledge of first aid, drummed into her from her training, but she knew she had to make him be still. “Just sit tight, I’ll get help.”
“Shut up and listen,” he grated, and then coughed again. His right arm moved feebly, sliding over the sand, his hand twitching weakly at his chest. “... still got it.”
“What? I don’t—” She stopped, staring as he fumbled the pocket of his shirt open and drew out a long golden chain, the gem on the end of it winking viciously in the bright sunlight. “To hell with that! We have to—”
“Midnight, I’m all done. Get home.” His arm was trembling with the effort as he held out the Pentachoron to her. “Get them home.” He swallowed heavily, fighting to speak clearly. “Go home. See Fluttershy. Be happy. Live.”
His face swam in her vision, doubling, then trebling as tears welled up and trailed down her cheeks. She nodded and took the gem from him carefully.
“Atta girl.” He grinned crookedly, the swollen left side of his face spoiling the expression and turning it into a grotesque mask. His hand was still shaking badly, but he moved it carefully over and cupped her cheek, wiping away one of her tears with a thumb. “Don’ cry. Did good. Got that sucker.”
“Yes. Yes we did.” She kept her eyes locked on his single one, and forced a smile. “You got him.” She saw him look up a bit, as if peering over her shoulder, and she felt him flick at her forelock with one of his fingers.
“Nice hair. Always... looked better with... helmet off.”
Midnight heard his voice drop on the last word and she felt his hand twitch, the fingers that had been toying with her mane loosening and going limp. His chest rose once more, then fell, and did not move again, the bright blue eye looking past her now, at everything, and nothing. “Charlie?”
She leaned forward, tilting her head to look closer at him, and felt his hand drop to thump against the armor on her shoulder. “Charlie?” Her voice rose tremulously. “Please look at me.”
Midnight heard the rustling flap and clank of an armored pegasus landing behind her, and heard Golden Sword call her name. Maybe that was what had gotten Charlie’s attention. That was fine. She would wait. In a moment, he would look back at her and she would talk to him while the others helped, she would keep his mind off of the pain while the others tended to his dreadful wounds, and then they would make camp so he could rest. The others would come and they would build a fire to keep him warm and ward off the chill of the night, and in the morning they would find a way to carry him, and they would all go home together.
She saw Sword’s shadow fall over them, heard the muffled crunch of his familiar tread on the sand beside her. “Midnight? Oh... oh no.”
Midnight tilted her head, settling her cheek into the limp palm that lay against her shoulder and waited, fresh tears coursing down her face and cutting clean tracks into the dusty fur before they dropped to the ground and were swallowed by the sand.