Holding On For the Ride

By the looks of them, nopony would have expected them to have been stuck in a train car on its side, in a trench. By the looks of the passengers, that is, nopony would expect any of them to be stuck in a train car, really; train crashes just didn’t happen in the great city of Equestria.

So lots of ponies, upon hearing the story, discounted it. Some thought about it long and hard. Sea Swirl, a newscaster, and a couple of witnesses were part of a report on it. It was generally dismissed as fiction.
Most of the ponies involved just left it that way. Nopony believed them; it had no real merit.

It had started during a storm. That, and a train ride, obviously. High society was going to ride on a train to somewhere high-class. Nopony really cared, not even the high society ponies. They did care, though, once the train was cancelled. It didn’t take long for the rich and famous to realize they were going to have to share a ride with the lower class. Now, of course, it wasn’t everypony there. Some of the rich folks, like Thou Sands, were excited. Of course, it goes without saying that the highly eccentric pony knew nothing about common, day-to-day life in Ponyville, but it was amusing at the least.

Once the train was cancelled, it meant a lot of grumblings. However, they got on to the next train, with commoners, because they had to. Now, they would be getting off at the first stop, appealing to passengers such as Blueblood, or Photo Finish.

Then the lightning hit, and the train made a couple of hissing noises, then stopped. Some ponies could feel it creaking right when it began. All of them noticed when the train flipped on its side. Most ponies got out before it fell all the way off into the small trench, leaving about 6 ponies left: Prince Blueblood, Thou Sands, Photo Finish, Donut Joe, Caramel Apple and his marefriend, Sassaflash.

No, nopony would believe that six ponies had been stuck in a train car. But it happened.

“Okay,” Donut Joe said. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. We are stuck. In a train car. No food, no conductor. He managed to get away, lucky squirt.

We’re stuck here. Now,” Joe said, looking up, “there may be just enough room for one of us to get out. Then he or she can help the rest of us. Who feels lucky?”

Caramel held Sassaflash tighter, to console her. “Sorry to disappoint you,” Joe said. “You’ll be drawing straws anyway.”

Prince Blueblood was assigned the task of finding suitable straws. Not approaching it with a survival mindset, as he was still in shock, he was a bit outraged, doing a job for Donut Joe. The stubble-chinned stallion had been adamant, though, and here he was, finding a small cup of straws sitting in the seat just adjacent to the wall next to the coal tank. He tried to take out all but six, but was hurt. He realized he had hurt his horn in the crash. No magic tonight. (Speaking of which, there was also no flying—Sassaflash was quite hurt herself.)

After doing it with his hoof, which was less hard than he thought, he brought the straws back. Throwing them at Joe, who ducked, he retreated to the back of the car with a sniff.

“Alright, everypony,” Joe said, all business now. “Whoever ends up with this one ends up getting out. Hope you all feel lucky,” he finished grimly.

Approaching, half-afraid, half-ready to get out, Caramel and Sassaflash were the first to draw. Eyes closed, they stuck out a hoof, plucked a straw, and pulled. Neither of the couple got the straw with the red stripe on it.

Thou Sands and a reluctant Photo Finish were next. Solemnly, they took a chance. Again, goose eggs. Zip. So, Prince Blueblood figured he had a good chance. He also figured that if he waited any longer, Donut Joe would take his straw—the red one that meant freedom. He grabbed the red-striped one.

Eyes full of disapproval swung at him. The 5 other ponies were fairly certain of Blueblood’s trustworthiness—zero, in the event of saving his own skin. They formed a pony pyramid. Blueblood honestly didn’t mind walking up their spines, and he didn’t regret leaping out the train door.

“Well?” Thou Sands was the first to speak. “Are you going to stand there and be boorish, or help us all out of this dreary situation?”

A pause. No reply. “Hello?” It was Sassaflash.

Still no answer.

Donut Joe muttered something about snotty pigheads. There were no longer enough ponies to make a climbable pyramid, nor was there another chance of escaping.

“Guess we either sleep through it or give up.” Caramel’s voice cut the dejected silence after Joe’s remark. The experience was already changing the ponies. Caramel, for one, had a sad look in his eyes. Joe had turned into a grim-faced commander in the space of a couple minutes.

“I opt to sleep. Maybe swap stories while we’re here.” Sassaflash remained the most unchanged so far. She was as cheerful as anypony could get in this situation.

“Did I ever tell anypony here about the time I forgot the seeds five years in a row for Winter Wrap-Up? Not the funniest story you ever heard, but useable.” It was Caramel’s voice.

After a long pause, in which nopony could think of a story to tell, Joe decided to go to sleep. Soon, Thou Sands had dozed off quietly as well. Resentful, optimistic, or opinionless, ponies that were no longer so different from each other went to sleep.

Donut Joe was in a lot better of a mood, which is hard to do inside of a slightly damp sideways train. He guessed that cooking put him in better spirits. He tried to think about a way out while cooking, with no luck. He concentrated on breakfast. He had found some snack scraps lying around, so it wasn’t much, but it was sustainable.
Four ponies stared not-so-eagerly at their ‘breakfast’. Caramel and Sassaflash were used to just some kind of fruit between them. Photo Finish and Thou Sands had an undying love for omelettes. None of them were used to a quarter of an apple and an egg.

“You have tried to feed us the worst possible foods, didn’t you, Joe?” asked Photo Finish.

“How about you try to scrounge around?” Joe asked, suddenly irritated.

She resigned and took a bite. It tasted surprisingly good, even though it was not the best thing ever.

“It’s called optimism,” Joe snarked. “You’re gonna need it. Now, once you’re done, we have to find another way out of here.”

Up until now, Sassaflash had been sitting against the rubbery seats. She noticed that they were stacked up like a ladder, due to their being sideways. She scaled them, and they seemed a little precarious, but workable.

“Say,” she said. “Do you think we could climb these? Maybe we could all get out without any fear of the rest of us running off.”

“Worth a try,” Joe said. He found a stable place to put his hooves, and inched upwards. It was a bit exerting, up until the top seat, which, unbeknownst to the ponies, had needed reinforcing for a couple of years, gave way. It fell right when Joe was about to put his front hooves on it, meaning Donut Joe was on the ground seconds later, with bruises on his back. He groaned.

Sassaflash and Caramel were standing over him. “You okay?” Caramel asked.

“Never better,” Joe lied. He sat up. Thou Sands was sitting a ways away, but…

“Where’s Photo Finish?” he asked. The white-maned earth pony was nowhere near, and he supposed in his seat-climbing venture she had gone somewhere. She couldn’t have found an exit, Joe was certain of that, but maybe there was a chance that she was trying to secretively get out. Then, there was a scraping noise.

“Thou Sands, any clue where that’s coming from?” Joe’s worn ears couldn’t pick up any location of the sound. Before the rich unicorn could reply, Caramel pointed in the general direction. It was towards the caboose, or at least it would have been had the caboose not broken off when the lightning hit.

They found the fashionista in the car right next to the caboose, a large stack of boulders blocking their exit. Photo Finish was scrounging around near the seats—no, wait, she wasn’t. She was trying to dig the nail out with her hooves.

“Look, it’s not gonna happen. Your hooves are round, they’re never gonna get that nail out.” It was Joe who spoke.

“Weren’t you the one with ‘optimism’?” Photo Finish scowled. “It does a mare’s heart good to see that much enthusiasm!” she said hotly.

“Hey—“ Sassaflash was interrupted by Joe speaking again.

“Nice, hearing that come from you. You and that other stallion, the green-blooded pony, you just think you can flick a hoof and get out? That it?”

“Um—“ Sassaflash again.

“Come talk to me when you get rid of the flies in your head,” Photo Finish sniffed.

“Hey!” Sassaflash cried. “I have a proposition!”

The ponies fell silent. It didn’t stop the bartender and the fashionista from glaring daggers at each other, but it shut them up.

“Now, Miss Thou—“ Again, interrupted.

“Please, call me Sands.” Thou Sands seemed like she was beginning to realize that she might as well settle in here with everypony else. Finally, somepony sensible.

“Miss Sands. You’re a unicorn, although I can see you’re hurt. While your horn heals, how about positioning yourself here. When it heals, tell us, and we’ll come over. Joe will, of course, bring your meals over. Would you be okay with that?” Sassaflash finally got out.

“Just fine. The sooner we get out, the better.” No matter how many of the 5 ponies there actually listened, it rang true with all of them.

Photo was the first to leave the car next to the former caboose. It was only one car apart to the other side of the train, exits blocked by solid stone in the holes. It shouldn’t have been hard for the two stallions and the mare to find where she had gone.

“What?” Donut Joe said, drawing a blank. “What?!”

Photo Finish had somehow left the train car. Minutes earlier, Photo had been picked up by two of her employees, pegasi, who were clueless about the other passengers left. “Don’t worry, miss,” one of them said, “you’re in shock.”
I tried to help, she thought bitterly. At least she was off.

The other ponies had no idea that that had happened. There was no evidence, and—

“Hey, notice that?” Caramel Apple said, looking up and around.

“Notice what?” Sassaflash said, with Joe echoing.

“All of you. You’re…a little browner, don’t you think?” Sassaflash’s coltfriend stated. He was right. They were, but not because of some dye or stain.

“No way…It’s the dirt! It’s coming in here.” Joe said, biting back a curse.

“Well, that’s all right, right? Unless it—“ Sassaflash was, as seemed per usual, by something. It was a terrifying groaning noise. It was the train, of course. Had something shifted?

The answer was yes. Some dirt had been shaken loose when Photo Finish had been freed. It had, along with a lot of other dirt, fallen on the train. A lot of dirt plus a train equals a not very safe train, for reference.

“We’ll be okay if we can find the part with the most dirt on it. We just have to stay as far away from that as possible.” Joe said.

They banged on the train roof all down the cars, with the thickest-sounding bongs meaning more dirt. The ‘bongs’ became a lot thicker as they reached—

“Oh Celestia, Sands!” Joe exclaimed. The three ponies set off towards her. They burst into the room right before a mass of dirt came crashing through the doors. Caramel Apple raced towards the rich pony, and pulled her back before any harm could come to her.

“Well, I guess that escape isn’t an option for now.” Joe remarked. “Anyway, who’s hungry?”

Sassaflash and Sands, along with Caramel a second later, each raised a hoof.

I need an aspirin. That was the first thought that came to Joe’s mind as he ducked into the middle car, which had effectively become the kitchen. He had just enough materials for one cheese sandwich. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed the ingredients before, but he tossed it into the center of the small pony circle they had made. They looked at it less suspiciously than last time.

“We’ll have to get out of here soon,” Joe said, thinking along the lines of his second sentence: “We’re running out of food.”

Once finished, the group of four stood and trotted towards the third car, the one they had slept in last night. They were just crossing the gap to the third car when they saw it. It was a giant pyramid of dirt, leading right up to the top of where the first exit they had noticed was. Joe nearly cried.

“Whoever did that, Mother Nature, Celestia, Angel Bunny—I don’t care, thank you!” Joe exuberated. However, just as Sands was across, the entire train shuddered, and a wall of dirt fell through the crack.

Sands turned around. She couldn’t see the ponies at all, which was not okay with her. She tried not to scream when she saw Joe’s hoof sticking out on her side.

“Don’t worry,” he said in his most reassuring voice. “I’m alright, and I have room to breathe. It’s just this mound of dirt on me that’s unbearable. Caramel, Sass—you guys are in charge of the cooking now.”

“Well, alright, but you better not die.” Caramel. Always the optimist.

“Sands?”

“Yes?” The sun-colored pony answered.

“Just get out.” He didn’t mean it in an unfriendly way, rather, a you-deserve-it way.

And she left. That left three ponies in a rather overbearing train car.

For about two days, Joe was brought his meals. Under a mound of dirt. “I can hardly swallow,” he complained. He became irritable and a lot less commander-ish. That is, until one day, when a weight was lifted from his shoulders. Yes, lifted. The mound of dirt he had been under suddenly started to lift off his back. He looked up. An angel? Maybe.

He would have kept thinking that until a voice called, “Did you get any optimism for breakfast?”

It was Sands. “Your horn heal?” he asked ecstatically.

“It did,” she said, “enough to take you and that lovely couple out of here.”

Caramel kissed the ground. And his marefriend. But mostly the ground. The sunlight spilled onto their dusty shoulders, setting them free. Of course, Joe might still be haunted by the experience, but it had overall changed their lives.

Joe decided that freedom felt really good. Definitely worth a couple more tries.

Blueblood went back to ruling half the kingdom (of course, no blame was placed on him). Photo Finish went back to designing fashions. Caramel and Sassaflash stayed a happy couple. Thou Sands tried to see what it was like to be a commoner.

Only Joe stayed changed. If you go into his shop now, you’ll see in his eyes not a jolly bartender, but a hardened soul. Some feel sorry. Some look away.

He’ll say: “Nothing’s wrong. Just freedom.”

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