Peregrination to the Promised Land

by Alden MacManx

Chapter Eight- Mad Dog

Everyone woke up at rooster crow the next morning, helped by the crowing of roosters from Pete’s chicken run. Linz got the fire stoked enough to put on a pot of coffee, while Marsha took a couple of jugs to fill with water from a nearby creek. Ben assisted Linz in getting breakfast started, and Joe took off to look around. He did notice the Mall, finally recognizing it for what it was. He had spotted it before but was not sure of what it truly was. He inspected the road closely, finding nothing that would hinder the drive over and back, Pete apparently had cleared the road on his hikes there and back, presumably with some sort of wagon. Satisfied of his findings, he headed back to the vet clinic for a good breakfast.

He found Pete up and out, with fresh eggs to add to the meal. “What are you thinking, Joe?” Pete asked as he gave the basket (a Wal-Mart hand basket) to Linz.

Joe smiled as he landed. “I think that we should not have any trouble giving you some help, Pete. Linz and Ben will stay here, to not only make you some fresh bread, but also leaving them here will give us more room for hauling stuff. Seeing as it’s not far, if we can find some sort of trailer, that will give us that much more room for cargo,” he said.

Pete grinned in return. “I know where some are at the Wal-Mart, in the garden center. A couple of generators, some more chicken wire rolls, additional materials to build a chicken coop with, along with a phone and groceries will be a real big help.”

“Been planning something like this for a while, eh?” Joe chuckled as he took off his paint can bag, but left on his flight harness, which had his radio and phone clipped to it.

“Only as long as I have been here. Hauling the cart there and back, I can only get one trip a day in before losing my wind. Guess I’m not built for much stamina,” Pete observed as Linz cracked eggs into a bowl.

“Well, we are happy to give you some help while we are here, Pete. After breakfast, we’ll go get a load.”

With Joe, Marsha and Pete out shopping, Linz and Ben first set up the baking gear and got some loaves started. Once that was done, they split up to do some looking around. Linz followed Trixie out into the surrounding trees, while Ben took to looking in different windows at the vet clinic.

Linz and Trixie headed east of the clinic, past the patch of open space to the woods. There, they found a path leading deeper into the trees, a path with the unmistakable traces of dog feet and cart wheels. Curious, Linz followed the trail. The unicorn and cat soon came upon a pit filled with turned earth, a large pit right off the path. Trixie pounced in, chasing a blown leaf. She let out a mowl and scrabbled out of the hole. Linz extended her glow, first to pick up the kitty and put her on her back before digging around where she had landed.

Her glow uncovered a bit of bone. Linz dug a bit more, and uprooted the bone, revealing it to be the horn of a unicorn, like her own but a solid whitish gray color from tip all the way down to where it had been cut off with precision, like with a bone saw. With a shudder of revulsion, she dropped the horn back into the pit and ran back to the clinic, trying not to scream in fright, Trixie hanging on with all four sets of claws.

Linz found Ben staring with shocked fascination in a window of the building next to the main clinic. When he heard Linz’ hooves pounding on the turf, he turned from the window, nose gray from shock, his eyes filling with tears. “We better get out of here…” Ben whispered.

Linz used her magic to look inside. With Trixie on her back, she had found she could extend her senses enough to look on the other side of a wall. Inside, she saw a pony’s body, a unicorn to be precise, lying on a table, in the process of being dissected, the head already cut apart and opened.

Linz took hold of Ben and hugged the basset pup tight, finding her own depths of self-control. Joe had left her in charge here, and she had best NOT panic, no matter how much she wanted to. Ben returned the hug, frightened out of his wits. “What do we do now, Linz?” Ben whimpered.

“We let Joe and Marsha know. With texts, not with a call, having them call us when Pete is not near them, so we can tell them what we found,” Linz said before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, reminding herself that she is a nursing student, and scenes of gore like she had seen may be frightening, but she has a job to do and she was going to do it. Mom did, so can she.

“Right. You’re the boss here. Should I break down the oven while you call?” Ben asked.

“Only if the bread is done. If not, take a basket, line it with straw, and see to gathering eggs,” Linz told the scared pup. “Let’s get away from this window first.”

At the Wal-Mart, Pete and Marsha had managed to hitch a trailer up to the Patrol and the three of them had started loading it with Pete’s desired supplies, two generators being first in, followed by several bags of chicken feed and three rolls of chicken wire. As they spread out in the store for some more supplies, Joe’s phone buzzed on his harness. Reading the text, he headed outside, passing Pete as he did. “Where are you going?” Pete asked.

“Out to piss. Don’t want to do it in here,” Joe explained as he trotted by.

“Don’t be too long at it. We can be done with this load by lunch,” Pete said, panting slightly. Apparently, his words about his lack of stamina were accurate.

“Be right back!” Joe called out as he went by.

Outside, Joe called Linz and listened to her report. “Thank you, Lindsay. We’ll be over as soon as we can. Be ready when we get there.”

“Will do, Joe.”

Heading back inside, Joe found Marsha coming out, hauling a wagon load of goods. “Marsha, get the Patrol ready to go. We’re out of here,” he whispered.

“Why?” Marsha asked.

“Tell you later,” Joe whispered back. “Need to find Pete.”

“Okay, Joe,” Marsha said, bringing her wagon to the trailer.

Joe went into the store, looking for Pete. Listening, he traced the dog to the sporting goods area. “Pete, we need to get going. Linz needs me.”

“Oh? Is that who called? What’s wrong?” Pete asked, stopping from loading his wagon with gear.

“She would not say; just said she needs my presence. I hope the oven didn’t get away from her,” Joe said with concern. “I had hoped she was over that by now.”

“Why don’t you just fly back, check on her and return? It’s not that far,” Pete said, his hand going to the pocket of his sweatshirt. “You don’t need Marsha or the truck, right?”

Joe sighed at the growling tones in Pete’s voice. “No, I don’t, but I want to bring the Patrol with me. Marsha too.”

Pete pulled his hand out of his pocket, showing the pistol he had in it. “No, Joe. You are going to fly over, check what’s going on, then come back. You have an hour. If you’re not back by then, Marsha is going to get a slug through the running lights. When I catch up with you, you will be next. Lindsay will be bled out, because I don’t want her head damaged.”

“Let me guess, we’re not the first ponies to pass by,” Joe said.

“No, not at all. The first since the thaw, yes. I do have more research to do on how this magic works, and that takes subjects to examine. How nice that I get one of each type at the same time,” Pete said with menace, baring his fangs. “Luck smiles upon me.”

“Sure looks like it, Doctor Petermann. I can’t argue with a gun. Barking irons don’t listen too well,” Joe said with a resigned tone. “I’ll be back in an hour, give or take.” He backed up a couple of steps and spread his wings, pumping them a couple of times to gain enough altitude to get above the shelving, turning to aim for the doors to the loading area where the Patrol was parked.

“Remember, I won’t hesitate to kill Marsha. I don’t need her to drive,” Pete growled, tracking Joe with the gun as the pegasus headed out of the store.

“Understood, Doctor.” Joe called down as he flew out. When he passed the doors, Joe grabbed the pull rope with his teeth, jerking the door down on its tracks, closing the door. Marsha already had the Patrol running, and when the door closed, she stepped on the gas, laying rubber. She had unhitched the trailer and left it there before starting the motor. “Go, Marsha! I’ll catch up!” Joe called into the radio. The Patrol headed for the exit.

Joe hovered up over the exit to the Wal-Mart. As he expected, Pete came running out, pistol in paw. As Pete set himself, taking aim at the departing Patrol vehicle, Joe made his move. Joe dive-bombed the dog, his front hooves together, smacking Pete in the shoulders just below his neck.

Pete let out a surprised grunt, falling forward and dropping the pistol as Joe completed his swoop, climbing up and looping some. Pete shook himself, looking for the pistol. Joe looped around for another attack, this time landing on Pete’s back. He then got a grip on the Doberman’s shoulders and ankles with his hooves and lifted, flapping for all he was worth. Pete struggled some, but Joe’s hoof grip was like adamantine as he pulled for altitude.

“Let me go, you damned horse! I’ll kill you all!” Pete shouted.

“In your dreams!” Joe puffed, going higher. “Do you want to become roadkill?”

“I’ll kill you first!” Pete barked, his struggles making it hard for Joe to climb, but he kept at it, now half way up the wall of the Wal-Mart.

Joe did not reply, just kept on pulling for altitude. He could not see the Patrol driving off, and didn’t waste effort trying, he just needed to get higher.

“I’ll butcher you like all the rest!” Pete shouted, but Joe paid him no heed. Once clear of the rooftop, Joe went for speed, flying toward the roof. Aiming for a skylight, he let go of the struggling dog, who did hit the skylight, but not at the right angle to break through it. Free of the weight, Joe climbed more before circling over and back down under the roof line, searching for his goal- Pete’s dropped pistol.

Before he spotted it, he could hear Pete howl in rage. Joe didn’t even look back, searching for the gun. Finally spotting it, he flew to it and picked it up in one of his forehooves before heading for the highway. “Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol,” he puffed.

“Eight-Patrol. Go, Eight-Nine,” Marsha replied.

“Grab the others as fast as you can, then head west on I-70. I have his gun, and I’ll catch up with YOU!” Joe yelped as he felt a sting on his left hind leg. “DAMMIT!”

“Joe! You all right?” Marsha asked.

“He has another gun! Avoid 70, and head south on that road! I’ll catch up! Eight-Nine out!” Joe said as he started jinking, making himself a harder target, taking aim at the highway. He heard two more bullets go by him but missing.

Joe flew as fast as he could until he was on the far side of I-70, maintaining enough altitude to see the clinic and the Patrol pulling in to the lot. He then aimed for the road the clinic was on, south of the clinic, going to get ahead of the others for pickup.

“Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol. I will be on the road south of the clinic, about a quarter mile away. Request pickup!” Joe shouted into the radio mic.

“Five minutes, Joe. Linz and Ben are leaving a couple surprises for Doctor Petermann,” Marsha reported.

“Five minutes, aye. Eight-Nine standing by,” Joe said as he touched down on the road. His left hind leg immediately buckled under him, sending him to the pavement with a yelp of unsuppressed pain. He rolled onto his right side, seeing the smear of blood on the roadway and the dark crease in his red fur. “Getting shot sucks!”

A few minutes later, the Patrol pulled up, stopping a few feet away. Ben and Linz got out, Linz picking Joe up in her glow, Ben guiding him through the doors. Joe was placed on the bed as Marsha drove off down the road. “Okay, Joe, this isn’t bad, but I bet it hurts a lot. Cleaning’s going to hurt more.” She told him as she broke out the big first aid kit.

“No shit, Sherlock!” Joe hissed as Linz started cleaning the wound. “Just what did you do back there?”

“I gathered all the eggs I could find before chasing the chickens out of the run. Linz lit the signal fire, and left a few gas cans near it,” Ben reported, holding Joe’s leg up for Linz to work on.

“Plus, I left a surprise or two in his stove, under the ashes. Next time he lights a fire, he’s going to get a nasty reminder of our visit,” Linz told him as she dressed the wound.

“What sort of surprise?” Joe asked around gritted teeth.

“A couple of road flares. If the gas cans don’t devastate the place, maybe the flares will, with him inside. He’s not going to have a lot to come back to,” Linz snarled.

“I didn’t know you were that vindictive, Linz,” Joe told his first lady friend.

“You didn’t see the bone pit nor the dissected unicorn, Joe. I’m going to have nightmares about it later, but right now, I’m just eager to see said doctor on his own dissection table, opened up, but I’ll settle for ruining his home as much as I can,” she said as she finished up the bandaging.

Joe patted Linz with a wing. “I’ll be here for you, thanks to your work,” he said gently as Ben let go of his leg.

“I hate to interrupt the love fest, but which way should we go?” Marsha called out from the driver’s seat.

“You got the maps, Marsha. We better avoid 70 west of here for a way. Right now, I can do with a dose of painkiller and a nap. He was heavy!” Joe told the driver.

“What did you do, Joe?” Ben asked as Linz dug through the supplies for the bottle of Everclear, some mixer, a glass and a straw.

“I picked him up, like I picked you up, and dropped him on the roof of the store. I wanted to send him through the skylight, but I missed the shot. Bastard had a second gun.”

“You’re still hanging on to the one gun,” Ben pointed out Joe looked, and the pistol was still clamped onto his right front hoof.

Joe quickly let go of it. “How much do you know about gun safety?” he asked the pup.

Ben picked up the gun, some sort of automatic pistol, and put the safety on. “Quite a bit. My father is an Allentown police officer, as well as a hunter. He trained me all about firearms safety since I was old enough to remember, and we’ve gone hunting several times. I left my rifle at home,” he said as he pulled out the clip. “Five shots fired, seven still in the clip, if I read this right.”

“We’re going to have to find some more weapons and ammo. Ben, I designate you our security officer, responsible for care and use of firearms. Any shooting you do, you’ll have to justify to the rest of us after the fact. No fooling around, or else I’ll lock up the weapons,” Joe said after a sip of painkiller.

“Yes, sir!”

Author's Note:

A grappling hook for a cutie mark- I wonder what that means?

Comments

[Dances With Unicorns]

Joe and friends have now realized just how dangerous the post-Event world can become. Along with more weapons and ammo, Joe could find one or two police and/or fire department drones that have optical and thermal cameras to find any potential allies or enemies before making face-to-face communication.

[Booster Spice]

?Better make plans with teh followup route finders, to treat that guy like what he is, someone who is likely to keep an eye out for them and ambush them within a given area, and send in a group to deal with him.

[Alden MacManx]

9335550
You peeking at my notes? *chuckles*

[Booster Spice]

9335960

My small weekly gaming group just setting up to start palying Cyberpunk 2013 again.

I, have experience of aincient computer technology, from the 80s and 90s, that when it runs on modern hardware, is little faster than modern uber optimised code.

Still. Its faster.