Cultural Cascade

by The Based God

Chapter One: Cascade Hills

"Albert?" a muffled voice tried to rouse the unconscious man from his slumber.

"Albert!" The shaking began.

Albert Satchwell fluttered back into consciousness after being disturbed. A cool breeze ruffled the man's hair, but in this situation he should not have been feeling a breeze in the first place.

"What?" Albert half spoke, half whined. He had been having a really good dream, and despite the odd circumstances, the breeze felt good. He never wanted to get up.

"Seriously, man. You need to get the fuck up. We've got a situation here, and it ain't pretty!" the voice said. Albert's half-asleep mind recognized the voice as Francis. But, what would his next-door neighbor be doing in his bedroom?

Blue skies....

That is what Albert Satchwell opened his eyes to find. Perfect blue skies with white, fluffy clouds overhead. Never mind the fact that he should've been looking at his bedroom ceiling. He didn't remember having gone to sleep, though, but him being sprawled out on the forest floor explained the breeze at least. Those clouds looked a little TOO perfect, though.

A lush green canopy of evergreens framed the sky, and Albert was suddenly aware of the pine needles that were sinking into his back. With a startled cry, he rose to his feet, causing his neighbor to roll his eyes.

Francis Budenburr was an overweight man of around forty whose brown hair was receding quicker than he would like to admit. He lived in the house next to Albert's on Hawthorne Ct, Ashland, unmarried and without any children. He usually wore a dirty wife-beater and jeans to go along with his handlebar mustache. Albert used to think he was a total sleazebag, but after living in the neighborhood for five years, he grew to learn just how reliable Francis could actually be.

As compared to Francis, Albert was a prettier sight to see. Now thirty years old, Albert was tall and thin, though with a fair bit of muscle below the thin exterior. His face was kept clean shaven with only a little bit of black stubble popping up from when he last shaved. His jet black hair was short-cropped and he had piercing green eyes.

His girlfriend, Natalie, had always told him that it was the eyes that won her over.

Speaking of Natalie, she was set to move in with him in two short weeks, but a cold aura of fear settled in his gut. He didn't know the situation yet, but he had a bad feeling about all of this.

"Francis! What are we doing here?" Albert asked.

"Don't know, but we ain't the only ones. Yer among the last ones to awake..."

"Last ones? Who else could possibly be here?"

Albert didn't know yet why they were outside, but at least it still looked like Oregon.

"Who else is here?" he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Now that he got a better look at things, he could tell that there were a few dozen people in total all milling around a barren area within an evergreen forest. Some of them were sitting on fallen logs, or milling around, while a few others just looked unconscious, like he had been moments before.

What was striking was that he knew every one of them.

"Is that... the Andersons? And Bianca Morris and her boys? Nikolai and Nadia, too?"

Albert could see the troubled looks on everyone's faces, but at least they weren't too far from home, right?

"The entire cul-de-sac is here... all twelve houses." Francis continued. "I've counted thirty-three heads total, and that includes Martin, man." Francis started, saying the last part under his breath.

Realization dawned over Albert, and he gulped. The situation may have begun to look a lot bleaker than it already was. It may not have been entirely normal, but that was no coincidence with Martin living in their neighborhood.

Albert looked toward the short young man at the very far end of the clearing. Martin Louverture was one of the people sitting upon a log. His gaze was stony and downcast and he sat with his mother and two younger siblings.

"Oh..."

Francis rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, "oh". Our sorry asses better pray to the Lord above that we're still in Oregon. The Andersons, Bianca, the Sydneys, and the Lopezs all have at least one young'in. If we're lost, we won't know what to do."

"How are we going to break it to them? You and I know what Martin is capable of, but the rest of the neighborhood." Albert responded, a waver in his voice.

"I'm havin' a hard time believin' this was on purpose, Albert. That boy don't have a bad bone in his body, but we both know how unpredictable he can be. The rest of the neighborhood, well, they might react badly to the truth, on top of findin' out that he's the reason this happened in the first place."

"But, Francis. If we're anywhere near Ashland, then we should all be able to pack up and go home. Maybe we should ascertain our position first, and then try to keep a lid on the whole fiasco once we get home."

Francis looked contemplative for a moment, but Albert could see the trouble in his eyes.

"You just woke up; some of us have been up for an hour now, includin' myself. I've taken some looking around; you're not going to like what I'm about to show you. Clear the sleep outta ya eyes and follow me..."

Still groggy, Albert followed the hefty man around trees. Francis stopped to talk to some of the neighbors who were concerned and afraid. Bianca was trying to comfort her two boys, aged seven and five.

Albert and Francis weaved around a particularly large evergreen, seeing a gap in the treeline that led out into a clearing where yellow grass fluttered in the wind.

The two men entered the clearing, and Francis pointed to a mountain in the near distance. The situation was getting weirder and weirder. The forest seemed relatively normal, but those seemingly perfect clouds were still grating on Albert's nerves.

Then he saw the mountain.

It was a deep blue, like a perfect blue. It was steep and tall with a perfect snow peak, with clouds surrounding the peak in a shroud. Overall, much too perfect, but its perfection wasn't what Francis had wanted to show him.

"It ain't Roxy Ann, that's for sure. Too steep, and there's no snow on Roxy Ann at this time of year. There's no mountain that steep anywhere in Jackson. The closest I can think of is Shasta, but that ain't Shasta either. Looks too different."

Albert shook his head. Although he made sure that his expression was unreadable to his friend and neighbor, on the inside he was worried. There were eight children and two teenagers among their group, and it didn't look like they were anywhere near home.

"Where the hell are we, Frank?"

Francis didn't answer the question, but Albert found something new to focus his attention on. He squinted his eyes, wondering if he was still only half-conscious.

At the treeline opposite the clearing, there stood a family of rabbits. Two adults and four little ones. This wouldn't particularly be news to both men, but Albert noticed something strange about one of the adult rabbits.

"Jackalope? Francis, are you seeing this?"

Albert took a step forward in the direction of the rabbit family. They were still far enough to where they would not run away, but he didn't need to get in close. Just close enough to confirm that what he saw on that rabbit's head were in fact horns.

"I see it, too. It may seem crazy, but I think that's a genuine jackalope. And not one of those that have the papilloma virus. It literally has antlers sticking out of its head..." Francis muttered, falling into line alongside Albert.

They were halfway across the clearing, and the rabbits had not bolted yet. Albert could see the adult rabbit from this vantage point. The horns sticking out of its head looked hard and tan, like genuine antelope antlers.

Albert took one more steps, and the family of rabbits finally darted, little ones in tow. Albert and Frank let them go; their lives didn't depend upon discovering a mythical creature.

But the encounter left both men feeling more uneasy, and they knew it when they looked at each other intently. What were the odds that they would be transported to an unknown location, and they immediately happen to find a jackalope?

"So, we're in a forest next to a mountain that we don't recognize, and apparently it is the natural habitat of the jackalope? Strange, but maybe we should go find a town or somethin'. There are still thirty-three of us stranded in the middle of nowhere. We're not properly equipped to survive out here even in the short term," Albert said.

Albert and Francis turned back to go meet up with the rest of the group. Perhaps the remaining stragglers had regained consciousness.

"What supplies do we have?" Albert asked Francis, since the other man was clearly more in the know.

"The clothes on our backs!" Francis said bluntly.

"Wonderful. What are we supposed to do know? I doubt more than a couple of us have any survival skills..."

"Probably not. But, you're right. Some of the kids were carrying cell phones on them when we arrived here. Nothing... no service or anything, so we can't just whistle for help or anythin'. We need to find a town pronto. Weird jackalopes aside, there should still be people somewhere within a decent distance, a town or somethin'. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a mill around here, either..."

The two men exited the clearing and entered the treeline where the rest of the neighborhood was mingling. Nikolai was apparently arguing with Joe Anderson about something, and the Lopezs seemed to be the only ones that hadn't awoken.

Bianca's boys, Kevin and D'Angelo Morris, were distracting themselves by climbing over a hollow log as if it were a playground. Their mother was supervising them, the independent black woman sitting in stony silence.

"Great, infighting already. Hopefully we won't have to be out here long enough for this to devolve" Albert thought.

Albert nodded to Francis, who rolled his eyes and walked over to break up the argument with a fierce but not unexpected gusto. It ended with both of them going their own way and sulking, their argument clearly unresolved. What it was about Albert could only guess, but he wasn't concerned about those two right now.

There was one person in this situation who he wanted to talk to in this situation, and he was still sitting up the log with his family. They were apparently trying to reassure him of something.

Now that Albert looked a little closer, he looked a bit more down than usual.

"Martin?" he prodded, approaching the young man slowly.

Martin Louverture was a student at Southern Oregon University in Ashland, but he and his family were locals of the town. Twenty-one years old, Martin stayed at home with his mother and siblings when he wasn't at school. Standing a modest 5'7", with sandy brown hair and hazel eyes, Martin somewhat kept to himself. He was a mystery to a great majority of the neighbors, but Albert found out his secret when he had moved into his house across the way as a spry twenty-three year old college graduate.

He had witnessed the thirteen year old Martin light a candle with his finger.

Priscilla Louverture sat on his right. A short, frumpy woman in her late forties, Priscilla was the head of the Louverture home, the small one-story home in the very back of Hawthorne Ct. Her brown, slightly greying hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she was wearing a tacky forest green blouse that went with her chunky figure. She had raised three kids on her own once her husband passed away, and Martin always wondered how she did it. That was before he had seen the government agents enter their home, like they did at the end of every month. He didn't have to be a genius to relate their appearance to Martin.

Her eyes were set in disappointment over her son, but given the circumstances, it was a lot tamer than it should have been.

"Albert!" the woman said. "Please, take a seat. I can't get him to talk to me!"

The twins came into view behind the log. Now almost seventeen years of age, Steven and Lucy Louverture were juniors at the local high school. When Albert had first moved in while attending college, he remembered the rambunctious grade-school kids.

They were opposites of their older brother in every way. Steven was quarterback of the Varsity Football Team, standing an impressive 6'3" with a brown buzz cut. Albert had seen pictures of their father, Steven was every bit the spitting image of Patrick Louverture, save for the brown over blonde hair.

Lucy Louverture was a slender girl that stood 5'11", her blonde hair flowing loose to her mid-back. She was a cheerleader and heavily involved with anything extra-curricular, always trying to add to her active social life. She was enrolled in as many art classes as she could, and seemed determined to become an art student once she graduated.

Unlike their brother, neither of them had psychic powers.

Both twins were highly outgoing and intensely popular people, but their demeanor wasn't always pleasant.

"Really fucked up this time, bro," Steven said, mocking his older brother. "What did you even do?"

Albert rolled his eyes. Steven in particular had always resented his brother. He had wanted the "cool" big brother to look up to and hang with when he was growing up, someone who he could look up to upon the shining example of masculinity in his eyes throughout his high school years. Obviously, Martin was none of those things.

That being said, Steven very clearly was slightly afraid of his brother, a fact that he would never admit to his friends, or anyone really.

While Steven was always making a snide comment to Martin, Lucy by comparison usually just gave him the cold shoulder, which she was clearly doing right now.

"Steven! Watch your mouth! This is hard enough as it is! Blaming your brother won't solve anything." Priscilla scolded her younger son.

"I hope you're right. If the other neighbors find out, Martin may find himself as the scapegoat."

"Martin..." Albert began. "How exactly did we get here?"

"..."

"Ooo-kay. Does this have anything to do with your... abilities?"

"..."

Again, Martin did not answer. Yet his eyes were moving to and fro all over the place. He put his head in his hands, shaking it slightly, before he mumbled something under his breath that Albert could barely hear.

"I'll tell you tonight. Preferably with less people around."

Priscilla shot Albert a pleading glance while the twins turned their heads up and walked away. Albert sighed; he might as well wait for night to fall before speaking to Albert in detail.

Not to mention, they didn't even have any time to discuss it. They needed to find either a town or some makeshift shelter to hole up in until they could find people.

Luckily it wasn't winter; they wouldn't have to worry about hypothermia.

Albert didn't even notice Francis slide in place alongside him.

"Hey, Albert. Some of the kids are gettin' restless. Judging from the sun's position in the sky and the temperature, it's sometime past noon. We have only five to six hours before it gets dark. Probably best to find a town by then, but I was talkin' to Nikolai. He took me out of the treeline once again, and showed me the plume of smoke he had seen. It was definitely a controlled fire even though it was a big one, and it only seemed to be around three miles away..."

Albert smiled.

"Francis. Round up everyone, would ya? We're going to go investigate that fire. Hopefully we'll find a town or two on the way there. You four..." he said to the Louvertures, "Meet up with everyone in the center, and Martin..." he paused.

"I'll talk to you later tonight, after we've gotten everyone fed and sheltered."

---

The town of Cascade Hills was a small town community sixty miles north-east of Vanhoover. Home to three-hundred forty one ponies, the town was a quiet locale at the foothills of Mt. Cascade, the northernmost mountain in the Unicorn Range. Focusing mostly on the timber industry, the locals learned to live without contact with the outside world. The encampment of Hornloft was only two hours away on hoof, but the nearest town after that was well over a day's trot.

With their isolationist life, they were also not too keen on outsiders, mostly preferring to keep to themselves. They weren't even particularly fond of their neighbors to the west, though that was for different reasons.

Cross Beam grinned as he sauntered back into his cabin. Mail was only delivered to the remote town once a week, but the weekly mail that had come for the cold had filled him with nothing but jubilation.

The young unicorn with a cobalt colt and a curly black mane cheered and danced as he entered the kitchen.

"I got it! I got in!" he shouted to no one in particular. He slammed his cabin's door shut behind him, placing the fancy letter with the golden ink on the counter.

"Huh? What is it? Wha' happened?!" a wheezy old voice exclaimed from back bedroom. A door creaked open, and all of a sudden a small, creaky old stallion entered the kitchen.

"Granddad! It's here! My letter from Canterlot University!"

Cross Beam was a wiry teenager of around eighteen, and one of the few unicorns in the town. The son of a unicorn mother and earth pony father, Cross was sent to live with his grandfather at an early age.

His grandfather, Saw Mill, was one of the ponies who migrated to the region where the town was established. He had spent his entire adult life working as a logger, only retiring five years after Cross arrived to Cascade Hills.

"Whuzzat? Well, I'll be!" The crotchety old stallion with a silver mane and wood brown coat said. "Ya got into that fancy pants school after all, eh? I'm proud, son! Real proud! Y'all are too good to stay in a hick town like this 'un."

The old stallion looked contemplative.

"Now, what did ya say yer major was again?"

Cross flashed a look of irritation for just a moment, but it couldn't replace his jubilance for long.

"I told you already, granddad! It's ecology! Ecology! You know, the study of organisms and their relationship to the environment? My special talent is providing homes for animals, after all!" he replied, looking at his bald eagle Cutie Mark.

Saw Mill squinted his eyes, before he clapped his grandson on the back.

"Well, that's just dandy, son. Though, ya already know so much about the 'vironment here it's probably gettin' dull to ya, now. Ya spent more time with the animals out in the woods than with colts yer own age when you were younger!"

"That gives me an idea, granddad! I'm going to catalog the woods outside town sometime before I leave. My entrance exam is in two weeks, and I'll be meeting up with the top ecology professors in Equestria. I want to provide them with a detailed case study of my home's environment!"

Saw Mill took a seat at the table.

"Well, ya still got a while before ya leave, and they might not even ask 'bout somethin' like that. 'Sides, I need your help fixing the deck today. Ya can head out and do your fancy catalog thing tomorrow..." he said, plucking an apple from the fruit basket resting on the table.

Cross Beam sighed and rolled his eyes, taking a seat beside his grandfather, nodding his head. The young pony had no idea what was residing outside their small community at that very moment.

Comments

[SeventhBrony]

but the humans have yet to play their own trump card.

They are human, being hunted and are being backed into a corner

[Mr Dorito]

6011326 So what do they do? They build guns and nukes. Time to fuck shit up in the name of Humanity.

[SeventhBrony]

6011780 And my heart bleeds for those that have been doing the huntin.... oh wait, those are tears! And it's laughing it's ass off just thinking of the devastation that is inbound on happy pony-only land

[Isaac3924]

The young unicorn with a cobalt colt and a curly black mane cheered and danced as he entered the kitchen.

Oh no.

"I got it! I got in!" he shouted to no one in particular. He slammed his cabin's door shut behind him, placing the fancy letter with the golden ink on the counter.

Please don't.

"Granddad! It's here! My letter from Canterlot University!"

....... Well. Death flag has been set.