//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Friendly Fire // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Hey sis, you still up?  It took him several hours to send the text. But after a long shower, an unhealthy meal of too much comfort food, and a few minutes quiet meditation he found the evidence and memories of his adventure remained. Maybe the girl’s appearance could be rationalized away, maybe even her behavior. Her voice had been different, so there was that. But nothing he could come up with could explain the twisted stick of polished wood that still made his fingers tingle every time he touched it. Jacob determined he had to talk to someone about his experience, or else he might not know if he was really just losing his mind. There was nobody in the world he trusted more than his sister Michelle. what is it pipsqueak ;) Her response came with a pajama-clad selfie, which he had expected. You want a midnight run? I told you that junk doesn’t work with my new diet. The old nickname made Jacob’s hands stop shaking. No, I’m not hungry. I was just wondering if you’ve heard anything strange tonight. I think something serious might’ve happened. they caught some animal by the Schofield Apts, but nobody got hurt. something else happen I should know about ??? He didn’t respond right away, running one hand along the smooth surface of the wand. It had been made of hardwood, then stained and varnished like a prop from a Harry Potter movie. If only he could believe that was what it really was. I think I may’ve seen it. There was no doubt about it in his mind, of course. No way to forget those gaping jaws and sharp pointed teeth. Yet Michelle wouldn’t recognize it by name, nor would she know the identity of the one he had met by the river. And some other things. Michelle, I think I might’ve lost my mind tonight. None of what I saw makes any sense, but I still think I see it. Her response took a little longer this time. Do you want me to come over? No, I don’t think it’s urgent. You’ve got that tennis game tomorrow anyway, I don’t want you to be tired. I could tell you about it tomorrow if you think you could still give me a ride. Ya I can still take you to your nerd club. I’ll be by at eight. He didn’t respond again, though not for lack of desire. Jacob wasn’t sure he could face his big sister if she agreed with his assessment of his own sanity. But he still wanted, needed to talk to someone! Jacob was still wary after the warnings he had received not to trust the authorities, so he took a few extra minutes hopping onto his VPN and cycling through identities with TOR. The extent of his information security skills exhausted, he hopped onto a popular fandom forum and scrolled through threads. Things had slowed down here now that the show had ended, though that didn’t mean it was silent. He had to go back a page before he found a thread talking about “the disappearances,” which he had always dismissed or ignored before now. Not this time. OP claimed to be in Dallas and told a story about taking a trip home for a funeral in the family. He claimed to have returned to a city with most of his friends missing (all Bronies). Jacob’s eyes glazed over as he scrolled over most of the replies—either obvious trolling or speculation about who might be responsible, none particularly insightful. Jacob didn’t bother dressing up his post with anything, just gushed through his keyboard a little. “I know nobody’s going to believe this…” He wrote out the details of his encounter, including everything he remembered that couldn’t identify him. He felt better after, even if most of the comments he got were either making fun of him or else more obvious trolling. It didn’t matter that anyone believe him, that wasn’t what Jacob had wanted. Typing everything out had made the memories more clear in his mind, less easy to dismiss. He switched VPNs and cycled through a few more TOR identities as he watched the thread, as much because he had nothing better to do as because he was really afraid of getting caught. Caught for what? I haven’t done anything. Well, aside from starting a fire in a public park, but that hadn’t been on purpose! As was always the case with the site he had chosen, it was hard to tell sincere replies from the trolls. Plenty of people suggested he call the cops and report the whole experience “if he really thought it was real,” since he was probably a danger to himself and others and would need to be put somewhere safe. Yet of all the others, one more stuck out, mostly because of how different it was. Like his own, the poster hadn’t bothered for anything more than a screengrab from “Party of One.” “Don’t let these ponies tell you you’re crazy,” it read. “That’s just not true! Crazy ponies see things that are crazy, but what you saw makes sense. Keep what Twilight gave you, because she wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t need it. I wish I could say you’re safe, but it would be even worse to lie. Don’t trust the ones in black suits and fancy cars—even though they want to help, all they can do is make things worse. Just hang on until the real help gets there and everything will be okay!” By the time Jacob drifted off, it was not to a peaceful sleep. Jacob had never had nightmares before, but he had them now. Visions of snapping teeth, glowing eyes, and worse. Timberwolves were far from the most frightening creature the show had ever depicted. Now his imagination rendered each with frightening realism. He woke to the alarm, in time for his ride to campus. It didn’t take long, seeing as several of his most important possessions had been shredded by a wolf. “So what was that text about?” Michelle was already wearing her uniform, and sipping at an overpriced fruit drink as she pulled up in front of his apartment. Her beater of an Accord could barely roll forward along the road these days, but it was a car, which was more than he had. “I don’t think you’d believe the answer.” He sat back in the passenger’s seat sans his usual backpack and gear, closing his eyes. It was way too early to be awake. Why can’t tennis games be scheduled at a reasonable hour? “Really?” “I wouldn’t believe you if you told me.” They started driving. Michelle was an insane driver, the sort who never drove slower than fifteen over the posted speed limit and always changed lanes when she felt like it was the right time. “Like, I’d sooner believe you had a winning lottery ticket stashed away under your seat—hell, a golden ticket for Willy Wonka’s factory would even make more sense.” Michelle shoved him on the shoulder with one hand, hard enough that he jerked. She didn’t look apologetic. “Did… whatever it is… really happen? Or are you just after some attention from your big sis? If it’s that, I could probably cancel some of my plans for after the game…” “No!” He answered before fully processing what she had said. “I mean yes.” He cleared his throat. “Yes, it’s real. No, you shouldn’t cancel. You usually go celebrate with your doubles partner, don’t you? That’s more important.” She shook her head in mock sadness. “It’s one or the other, little bro. If you’re honest, I’m sure I’ll need some time to unpack whatever you’re about to say. I can always get hammered in the evening. Maybe… after you’re done with those nerds. So what was it?” His hand wandered down to one of his pockets, and he pulled out the wand. He ran it between his fingers as he met her eyes, and tried to speak in the clearest voice he could. “The animal last night, the one you heard about. I was the one it attacked.” Michelle jerked on the brakes so hard he smacked the dashboard. He was lucky nobody was behind them, or else they might very well have been hit. She didn’t start driving again, stopped dead in the street. “Are you okay? You look okay… were you texting from the hospital last night? This is why you’re always supposed to send a selfie!” She jerked his wrist away from the stick, drawing back the sleeve of his shirt. As if to check for a plastic hospital band he wasn’t wearing. “No!” He jerked his hand back, fully conscious that he wouldn’t be able to fight her if she forced anything. “Drive, Michelle! We’re in the middle of the road!” Someone honked loudly from behind them, swerving to avoid them and making rude gestures as they went. “It didn’t hurt me. Look, that isn’t the crazy part. People are attacked by animals all the time.” “What is?” She started driving again. Traffic was a little heavier than normal as they turned onto the road leading to campus. Few of the cars had “approved parking” stickers on their windows. Was there another game this morning he hadn’t known about? “It wasn’t an animal, it was a monster. Like… straight out of a movie. A pack of wolves all made of wood.” If Michelle doubted him, she showed no sign. “How’d you get away?” “That’s… Someone helped me. Someone who already seemed to know they would be there and knew how to fight. She told me… told me that worse was coming.” They were passing the outer campus buildings now. The trend of more people he had observed earlier seemed to be carrying over to more people, all of them adults in business attire. Much of the parking lot was already full as they pulled in, and even Michelle had to find a lonely spot in back. Michelle didn’t open her door, for which Jacob was grateful. He wouldn’t have kept going if she had. “Did you tell the police? No, I would’ve heard about that. You were afraid they would think you were crazy, so you didn’t say anything.” He could only wish that was the answer. “Not quite. At the time, I wasn’t really thinking. I wanted to call the cops, like anybody would. But this girl, she… she fed me this conspiracy theory about how the police were out to get us or whatever… and she’d just saved my life, and I was so freaked out…” Michelle reached into the backseat, grabbing her tennis bag. “You want me to take you to the police station instead? Or… go with you to campus police?” “No.” He looked away. “I didn’t believe her, but I didn’t think she was lying. If that… makes any sense.” “Not really. But… if you don’t need to talk to the cops, then I should get to the game.” Michelle didn’t open the door so much as kick it open. “We can get together after. You can go over the whole thing then, okay? Maybe after your nerd club?” He followed, a little more subdued. He pocketed the stick as he went. “Yeah, sure. I’ll tell the gaming group I’m sitting it out this week. Good luck with your match.” She hugged him, then jogged off towards the athletic buildings. This left Jacob with several hours to kill before the club and no laptop to kill them with. He debated taking a nap in the car, which had no working locks so wouldn’t be causing him trouble even without the keys… but decided against it. The sun was already rising, and in another hour or so the heat in a car would be unbearable. So he wandered towards the library. He wasn’t in a hurry, not with so much time to kill. It had opened hours ago, and would have computers for him to use. As he walked, he noticed more of the trends he had seen on the drive in. Lots and lots of older people were here today, looking busy and important with their fancy clothes. This wasn’t particularly surprising: one department or another was always having a conference at his school, that came with studying somewhere so important. He saw no sign of anything really unusual—campus police rode by on their bikes, groundskeepers raked through another batch of fall leaves, and students wandered about half drunk with tiredness as they made their way to studying or tests they didn’t want to do. After the night before, Jacob expected his day to be interrupted by a rampaging swarm of Parasprites, or maybe an unexplainable thunderstorm. He saw neither, nor anything else that couldn’t be explained with human activity. It was a little harder to tell if anyone with unusual hair might be connected to his experiences, considering how popular dyed hair had become (particularly among female students). He never made it. As Jacob neared the library, he felt a sudden touch on his shoulder, and very nearly jumped out of his skin in shock. A tall woman in a black pantsuit stood there, holding a leather portfolio out in front of her. A glance at the topmost page rewarded him with another shock as he saw his Facebook profile picture printed there, along with a dozen other extremely familiar people. “Excuse me, but are you Jacob Blackwell?” He nodded, “Y-yeah?” The woman shut her portfolio, reaching into her vest with that same hand. She drew out a badge, and flipped it open for him to see. “My name is Agent Avery, Federal Bureau of Investigation. Could you please come with me? I have some questions for you.”