All's fair in war and friendship

by Psycho Brovian

Chapter II: The Streets

Voices. Not theirs. Not mine. We had precious little time left. We had been found. Five men with rifles raised patrolled the streets. I knelt by the door, and whispered to run if anything bad happened. I told Dashie to fly ahead of the rest to summon help, knowing that she was the fastest among them. Once again, she sternly told me to not to call her that as I cycled the bolt and shouldered the weapon. As the sights of the Springfield fell upon my target, my finger too fell upon its trigger. A shot rang out and a man fell dead. I cycled the bolt again, and prepared to loose another shot on the squad, hoping to either wipe them all out or convince them to retreat, but my shot missed the evasive target. I foolishly ran into the streets howling like a wild man. Was I trying to intimidate them? I don't know.

I was wrong. These men were fearless mechanical dogs. It would take more than one man and his wild determination to deter them, but I wasn't done yet. As they popped up to return fire, one by one, they found their target, much like themselves, had taken cover. I cycled the bolt. Three. I had Three shots left. I rolled to a prone position beside the overturned cart, and found peace. I no longer heard the gunshots and foreign shouts. What I heard was the gravel crunching under my body, and what I saw was a slow-motion carnival game unfolding before me. The barrel of my rifle lazily fell into place, and as the sights straightened out the action was automatic. My finger twitched, and the stock kicked hard into my shoulder. As his body fell backwards, time rushed to catch up with me. The thunderous gunfire shook the ground beneath me, and suddenly I heard a rush of wind. I panicked. My frail plan of glass held by gossamer strands had just unravelled and was tumbling toward an unforgiving floor fast.

She moved so fast I swore she left rainbow trails behind her. It was hypnotic watching her fly rings around them. My heart flattened. I called out to Rainbow. Rising to my knees, I desperately tried to line up a shot that didn't have a trace of vibrant color in it. I didn't get a chance until the net scooped her out of the air. I shouted as I shot one of the remaining men as though my anger would speed the bullet on its way and strike its target like a mortar shell. He folded like a bad hand to the ground as the others began to club the entangled pegasus. I fired a wild shot from the hip as I ran towards them. I let the rifle fall away from me, still screaming an incoherent stream of sheer anger, and pulled the sidearm from its holster. I didn't bother aiming as I squeezed the trigger as fast as I could. Three shots was all I could muster.

I didn't feel the first blow, my fist in his jaw. The other tried to bring his rifle to bear against me, but I wouldn't have it. I boldly grasped for the weapon. It was with macabre recognition and sullen delight that I observed Rainbow's blood had made the stock slick. I easily pulled it from his hands and swung a home run into the face of the first enemy combatant, still reeling from my haymaker. I did feel it when the disarmed soldier fired his sidearm, but not from the nine millimeter slug. I only felt my knees hit the dirt. He held the pistol to my head as I observed shapes presenting themselves though the haze before me. Reinforcements, and one of them was decorated. “You” I snarled.

“Yes, me” was his delighted response in that horrible, twisted accent. “I was beginning to wonder if you had died out there, hm? Taken your own life?” I laughed, the hot barrel of the pistol searing into my temple was the only thing keeping me conscious. “Not on your life, pal” I said, spitting blood. “You wanna send these men home, maybe we could deal with this like civilized men.” I like to imagine that I smiled saying that, but the truth was I couldn't even see him anymore. Everything swirled together like paint on a palette. I saw the red and silver on his uniform, and a swatch of light blue below. Rainbow Dash. My eyes lowered, morbidly curious as to whether she was still alive. Her chest beat out a heavy breath. I could breathe again, but briefly.

“Are you worried about your friend?” he taunted. “You have no idea what I have in store for her and hers – masterful plans, I assure you. I've spent many a night--” “Just shut up and shoot me, savage” I mumbled. “Oh? But I have so much planned! You see, first--” “Do it!” I cut him off. “Shoot!” I banged my head against the barrel of the gun. “Come on, are you afraid?” He started to go into detail about his 'plans,' and I couldn't bear to hear it. I shouted, and howled – not once begging to be killed, but commanding it. I was in control. Rainbow looked up to me and our gazes met for an instant before the shot rang out and my vision clouded. All I could see was her muzzle painted in my blood. He wanted her to see. I had words for that enemy commander that aren't fit to repeat.

It was what I saw next that I almost didn't believe. As they began dragging the battered pegasus away from me, her eyes went from vacant shock to pure grit. She pulled herself off the ground, and furiously floundered for one of the soldiers. She pulled a pin on his grenade and clung to him. I didn't see the blast, but I felt it. My mind's eye could see the sky blue plumes descending from an ash grey sky.

I didn't believe in a God, as such there was no heaven for her to go to, and certainly not for me. No, no heaven would accept me. She was, however, safe from him, and he'd never lift a finger to harm anyone again. Even without a heaven to go to she was in a better place, and because of that, in a funny sort of way I was too.

Author's Note:

Imagine the grenade blast at the end was rainbow-colored.