Chapter 3
“O-oh.” Jacob started walking in the direction she had indicated, towards the administration building. He walked slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. There was no missing the handgun holstered on this woman’s waist. “Sure. About what?”
She didn’t rush him, but she did follow very closely, close enough that she could’ve grabbed him if he tried to run. “About your involvement with a club here on campus.” She opened the portfolio again, this time holding it out so he could get a clear look at the images inside. It was more social media photographs, each and every one of them taken from club members.
She seemed able to read his reaction, because she didn’t even wait for a response. “You do know them, then.” She rested her other hand on his shoulder, meeting his eyes. “Son, we have good reason to believe you and the rest of the ‘Campus Bronies’ have been targeted by a terrorist organization. Maybe you’ve heard the headlines.”
“I… haven’t missed that we’re going missing all over.” He didn’t speed up, even as Agent Avery kept gently pushing at his shoulder. The longer he spent with her, the more he felt that the girl last night had been right. He felt like he was trapped, and it was about to get much worse. “You think it’s the same people?”
“Yes.” She didn’t even hesitate. “It’s possible they have already made contact with some of you. I can’t tell you anything about their motivations, but I do have some images of suspects here…” She flipped a few pages forward, then held out the portfolio again so he could get a clear look.
The list of “suspects” could very well have been taken at any of the popular fandom conventions. He saw “Twilight” near the top, and recognized her purple hair and pink stripe at once. There were perhaps two dozen images there, taken from cell phones and security cameras and maybe drones, all at varied angles and varied levels of clarity. “Any of these people look familiar to you?”
“Ma’am, are you… are you sure this is right?” He stopped walking, folding his arms in mock suspicion. “I don’t know if anybody has told you this, but… it seems like all these people are imitating characters from My Little Pony… the show we like. A few of them are even copying outfits from the movies where the characters are human. People dress up like them all the time.”
She sighed with exasperation. “We were aware. If you had met any of these individuals, I suspect you would remember it clearly. Reports suggest they claim to be the individuals they represent. They also make use of psychoactive drugs to induce suggestibility. People who meet them often report seeing impossible things, and they genuinely believe these memories they report.” She snapped the folio closed. “Please Mr. Blackwell, if there’s anything you could tell me about them, it would go a long way to keeping you and your friends safe. Failing to cooperate with me wouldn’t just be a crime, it would also be a step towards guaranteeing that the same disasters that happened in other cities happened here. Hundreds of people might be protected if we can head things off here.”
Jacob looked away, unable to meet the agent’s eyes. They were almost to the administration building, even with the way he had dallied. Like all the school’s paths, this one was surrounded by beautiful flowerbeds and reddening trees. There was nobody within earshot, though dozens of people within ten meters or so, all watching less-than-covertly.
There was no chance of running. But if they brought him in, somehow Jacob knew they would be able to identify the wand he was carrying. He dismissed the claim of “psychoactive drugs” immediately, even though it would have done a fantastic job of explaining what he had seen. Even if it would be nice to explain away his experiences with drugs, it wouldn’t actually match what had happened. He had encountered “Twilight” before getting anywhere near close to her. Jacob had never done anything stronger than alcohol, yet he had never felt that his thinking was impaired. There was no lost time in his memory either, and there was physical evidence of what he had seen.
“I don’t know any of those people,” he lied, his voice flat. “Beyond knowing their characters from the show, I mean. I could tell you all about that. But a quick Google search could give you as much of that as you wanted.”
Agent Avery visibly tensed at his response, returning her hand to his shoulder. “I’m afraid I still need you to come with me. We have some higher resolution images waiting in a classroom we’ve appropriated. After that, we’ll be taking you into protective custody for the next week or so. Until we’re sure the danger has passed.”
Jacob would’ve turned and run right then if he thought he could get away. Of course, even if he could outrun someone who, beneath her pantsuit, was as tight as steel cable, there were who knew how many other obviously-not-students all around them. There would be no getting away.
Someone walked past him the other direction, actually looking like a student with a too-short skirt and fishnet stockings. “Duck,” she whispered, at the second she passed him going the other way.
Jacob didn’t think. He feigned a trip, arcing down onto his belly with a gasp of mock-surprise.
Everything happened at once. Something flashed in the air above him, so bright and loud his ears started to ring. Something thumped to the ground behind him, though he didn’t see what. “Kid!” A hand with black-painted fingernails reached near his face, and he took it. He stumbled shakily to his feet with the stranger’s help, though he didn’t have long to look around.
The illusion of ordinary activity all around him had been dissolved. More than a dozen people were removing concealed weapons, and shouts sounded through the school. Students screamed and ran, and he was in the center of it.
The girl, with a black skirt and black hair, stepped in front of him like a trained attack dog guarding her owner, hissing quietly under her breath. “Don’t move, kid.”
“Stand down!” someone shouted. A large man sprinted towards them from across a planter, trampling the struggling flowers as he went. In front of them, Agent Avery was on her back, clutching at her head and moaning.
“Here we go.” The whole world blurred past, as though Jacob had just hopped onto the back of a speeding pickup truck. Gunshots were pitched down so low their sharp barks sounded like timpani drums as buildings and people whipped past him fast enough to make his head swim and his insides start to turn over. With everything else around him stretching, only the girl remained in perfect focus, as though she were standing still, a look of intense concentration on her face and a short length of wood in one of her hands.
They stopped. Jacob pitched sideways at the sudden deceleration, which was accompanied by a bang louder than gunfire. He heaved out onto the sidewalk, hacking up bits of banana and bile for at least a minute.
“Sorry about that.” They were in a back alley somewhere, he couldn’t have guessed where. There was nobody around but the girl, who still had the stick as she glanced periodically towards each entrance. “If it makes you feel any better, most ponies puke their first time.” She handed him a little water bottle, and he drank without question, clearing away a little of the nastiness. “Don’t try to get up too fast. You need more time to recover after… after so much of a shock to your system. We’ll have time… I took us three miles from your school. It’s way too big for them to search.”
“We…” Jacob rolled sideways onto his butt, leaning back against a dirty brick wall for support. “We were really loud coming in. Bet you fifty bucks somebody called the police by now.”
The girl swore under her breath, then wrapped her arms under one of his shoulders and hauled him into a standing position. She was stronger than she looked—an obvious necessity considering Jacob was at least twice her weight. “Alright then. You can rest in my car. Just… use those damn legs…”
He did, or he tried. He found they weren’t responding quite the way he had expected, twitching oddly at first as he tried to make his way forward. By the time they were halfway to the edge of the alley he was walking again, albeit leaning on her for support. He found his words again by then too, though he could only croak horsely. “What did you do to that agent?”
“A lot less than she would’ve done to you, I promise.” Just outside the alley was an old Beetle, in better condition than Michelle’s car but not by much. She opened the door for him, then hurried around to the other side and climbed in herself. They drove off just as he heard the first sirens coming down from the other direction. “It’s too much energy to do any permanent damage. I had to save my juice in order to get us all the way to the car.”
Jacob glanced briefly back, but it looked as though they weren’t being followed. They turned a corner, cutting across back roads and staying away from any of the regular connections. “You’re not Twilight. I thought she was coming back.”
The girl laughed—she didn’t lose control of her vehicle while she did it, as Michelle might’ve done. “Who do you think you are, kid?”
“I…”
She just laughed again. “Look, sometimes important ponies get involved, but that’s mostly when the rest of us can’t cope with the odds. Throwing a princess at the problem is what you folks ‘round here call the nuclear option, alright? She got a good look at the place, called it safe, so they sent in a regular crew to get the lot of you out.” They weren’t taking any of the roads Jacob knew to get out of the city, so he couldn’t be sure where they were going. Only that they were leaving the parts of town students normally frequented. “I’m Harley, alright? It’s fantastic to meet you. Just don’t shake my hand, you’ve got some puke on yours. There should be some napkins in the glovebox, probably should take care of that…”
He found she was right, and wiped away the slime as best he could. “I’m Jacob.” He had about a thousand questions he wanted to ask. In the face of so many, he selected the one that seemed the most urgent, feeling a little more confident as his stomach settled from the… teleportation. “When you say ‘the lot of you’ do you mean other… Bronies?” The word sounded so absurd he didn’t even want to use it, yet he had no choice. “The lady you attacked was from the FBI. She… had come to protect us from some sort of attack.” Like what you just did, he thought, but didn’t finish.
Her laugh was bitter this time. “We’re targeting you? Says the game hunter about the ranger trying to get their prey out of danger.” Her eyes narrowed, and she glared out the windshield as she drove. “Look, it’s not my fault you all came up with such a silly name for yourselves. Yeah, you’re mostly the ones we’re here to save. You and anyone else who gets ‘exposed.’” She said the last word with particular disdain. “Enough that they would be in danger too.” She stopped in front of a rusty warehouse door, which began to slowly retract as their car neared it. “Welcome to the hideout.”
They drove inside—the space was almost completely empty, save for some lights in the distance. They drove across the dark space until they came to a lounge of camp furniture next to an open bathroom door.
“Your hideout sucks.”
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Those were, by far, the funniest final words for a chapter thus far.
Ponies are underestimating humans. This will play cruel joke with them later, I'm sure.
Don't underestimate the power of Government agencies. Or Google.
7409079
Well said... Well said
Another daily story! This'll solve my problem of having nothing to read during lunch at work.
7409079
Google is a god amongst its peers!
it is the Omnissiah incarnate \0/
Love that ending!
"Why, yes, I am lying to you. No, I am not even going to bother making it plausible. Look at the shiny badge and do as I say."
So this is how school shootings actually begin...
Seems legit for a government agency. They lie to your face. They claim they're placing you under protective custody for your own good, but in reality, they are arresting you and god help you if you try to leave. They don't need a warrant. They're fucking feds.
7810974
fuck youuuuuuu
8881893
SHUUTTTT UUUPPPPP
8881893
What is wrong, Russian bank teller? Why do you feel the need to belittle others to make yourself feel more important? They say misery loves company. Is your life so miserable that you must drag others into despair with you? I have examined your profile. There is no joy there, as I suspect is the case with your life. If you do not like what you see here, then leave. You do not have to look. And to the others on this site who are responding to this child just ignore him. As an added bonus, that will upset him even more. For his kind seek exactly that. Attention.