The Final Crusade

by Enfield

Just An Average Day At Work

The day was hot, humid, and sticky. James Rogers, the stout sixteen-year-old sat on the wall adjacent to the gas pumps and fiddled with his M1911 pistol as he watched the road with his brilliant blue eyes. His friend and co-worker Darryl sat next to him and waited for the cars that would be pulling in. The pumps had not been used en masse since twelve that afternoon, Darryl got up and wandered to the pumps, looked down both ways down the streets, then turned back and sat back down.

“You keep that up maybe one will miraculously appear,” said James holstering his pistol.

“We keep up doing nothing and we’ll be laid off,” replied Darryl, “Okay seriously, put that thing away, you make me nervous.”

“I’m not going to shoot you, or anyone else for that matter,” James said flicking the safety on.

“Last thing we need is a repeat of what happened last time,” said Darryl.
“At least I was there,” said James.

James stopped at stared down the deserted road, he remembered the day like it was yesterday. It was three months ago when a small group of insane people came to get gas and almost ended up robbing the place, James was out back collecting keys from serviced cars when he came across one of the robbers. The man placed a gun against James' forehead, James without hesitation, grabbed the gun, disarmed the robber, and then shot him in the leg. After the first robber was down the second and third came running into the back and opened fire, James shot back and killed both of them. The cops were called soon after and James was labeled a hero for his actions. The man who was shot in the leg was, for some reason, Manny’s dad. After interrogation it was learned that he was on the hunt for James and was planning to kill him, but Manny’s dad was imprisoned for thirty years and was never heard from again.

“You killed two people and shot a man who had been hunting you for eight years,” Darryl said, “I’m glad I was at the deli.”

James chuckled and took out his iPhone, he turned away so Darryl wouldn’t see what he was looking for on the internet. He thumbed through the pages and stopped suddenly.

“Damn,” he said, “No new episodes.”

“Are you looking for that TV show you like?” Darryl asked.

“If you mean the one you won’t understand then yes,” replied James. The front door to the gas station suddenly opened and James quickly locked the phone so no-one would see what he was looking at. The gas station owner, Tony came out of the office. He was holding the usual assortment of bags and papers that he took home with him. James always said that he was hiding a porn magazine in the piles of paper, Darryl searched for it and came up with nothing. Tony looked down at the two attendants and breathed heavily, he had the look that could make your day seem better or worse, depending on the situation. But he was always understanding and friendly and also easily bribed with donuts.

“Alright then,” Tony said adjusting the bag strap on his shoulder, “I’m going now. James you know what to do, Darryl, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Not planning to today anyway,” Darryl retorted with a grin. Tony laughed and walked to his pickup, he stopped and turned around to face James.

“By the way,” he said, “Thanks for the donuts.”

“Anytime,” said James.

As Tony started his pickup and drove off James stood up and headed inside to dump all the trash. Once he got into the mechanic bays he took his phone out again and this time searched on youtube for clips of his new favorite show. That show was none other than the incredibly famous TV show, My Little Pony Friendship is Magic. James had heard of the show before through his friend Jason, Jason said that literally everyone was watching it in his school. James said that it seemed like a stupid show about colorful talking horses that embark on epic adventures to solve their social problems and to learn about friendship, but his curiosity could be contained no longer, he started watching it only two months ago and was already loving it.

Once Jason found out he told James that he had been “assimilated” into what was know as “The Herd” and was henceforth a Brony, but he never let anyone else know except for his other Brony friends. After seeing the show James had become even more confident and friendly, along with the fact that his grades in school far surpassed his classmates. James stopped with the clips and started looking in each of the trashcans to see how much he would need to take out, his mood changed from slight happiness to confusion then to annoyance.

“Oh dear god,” he said looking in the biggest trash can in the garage.

“What is it?” Darryl asked poking his head around the corner.
James reached inside the trash can and pulled out a large piece of an engine block.

“What is this?” said James.

“Looks like the cylinder containers of a V8 engine,” said Darryl examining the steel hunk James held.

“I don’t care what it is I’m taking this out first,” James said turning around and proceeding to the dumpster outside. As James carried the engine piece he stopped and looked toward the sky, it was unusually dark for a night in the beginning of June along with the humidity and temperature, but that might have to do with the large number of storm clouds that were looming over the land.

“Better get this done quick so I can shut up the cars,” James said to himself as he struggled to carry the engine piece over to the dumpster. As he dropped it into the relatively empty dumpster he heard something behind him, he quickly span around and drew his pistol and flicked on its attached flashlight. James looked around, he could of swore he heard voices behind him, where they came from he didn’t know.

“Just the wind,” he said holstering the gun and switching off the flashlight. James went back inside to collect the newly filled trash can which Darryl had filled for him.

“Is this all the trash cans?” James asked pointing to the massive drum.

“There’s also Bailey’s but that’s all cardboard and cigarette ends,” replied Darryl.

“Looks like we have customers,” said James looking out the window to the pumps. A pair of Toyota Camrys were sitting at the two pumps by the door.

“You think they want gas?” Darryl asked. James read the fear in his voice.

“If they start anything, remember that I’m second in charge and they’ll have to talk to me,” said James patting the pistol at his side, “If they don’t cooperate, a little .45 will make them think twice.”

James took the trash drum and dragged it outside, it had gotten darker and was much more foggy. James shook his head and lifted the trash drum over his head to dump out the trash. A mix of paper, oil, sand, discarded bottles, and car parts streamed out of the drum and into the dumpster leaving a cloud of dust to engulf James, cursing in Russian he took off his hat revealing his dirty blonde colored and black streaked hair and fanned the dust away. Then there was another strange sound.

James again, span around and drew his pistol. He stopped and listened for it to happen again, it seemed to be coming from behind the massive shipping container. James carefully put his hat back on and slowly advanced on the location of the noise, it happened again and James slowly came up to the corner of the container. James thought that it was some tire thieves that were going to steal the tires from the stacks that lined behind the oil drums.

“You’re not getting away this time,” he said holding the pistol closer to himself and pulling the hammer back.

James rounded the corner and flashed the light onto three young girls, the light seemed to throw them off and they staggered back a few feet to regain their senses. As they did James noticed their unusual appearances. The one on the left was in a casual looking orange t-shirt and purple sweat shorts, but is was her shortly grown and rather messy looking purple hair that made her stand out. The girl in the middle had a similar purple tinge in her hair but there was a light pink that was neatly mixed in, even though it started out straight and neat then to heavy curls, it was so perfect that it looked as if there were separate sections of pink and purple hair, what she was wearing was the most interesting, a sort of white dress with matching socks with lightly colored purple shoes. James knew that it would end up with oil on it. The girl on the right had what looked like farmers overalls and a yellowish t-shirt underneath. Her hair was brushed straight down and red in color, which matched her overalls, there was also a rather large pink bow in her hair. The bow was a more defined pink than the second girl’s hair. James could only assume that she lived on a farm because of the heavy work boots she wore rather than the sneakers that the first girl wore. All of them were about a foot and a half shorter than James. After they managed to shake off the flashlight ambush they looked at James and fearfully backed away, James still had the gun pointed at them and was still looking down the sights. After what seemed like an hour James was the first to speak.

“Who are you and what do you want?” he said sternly.

“We-we don’t know what you mean,” the girl on the right said, she had an almost southern accent, but it sounded as if she had lived for half her life in the northern states and picked up a little of that accent.

“Why were you snooping around the back of the crate?” James asked again.

“We were lost mister, we don’t mean trouble,” the second girl said. Her voice sounded high pitched but calming and fun at the same time there was also a distinct squeak that James heard every few words. James lowered his 1911.

“You’re right,” he said, “You three don’t seem capable of stealing anything of value without being caught, and if you did I bet you would return it.”

“What is that thing you’re holding?” the first girl asked. She sounded like she had lived most her life in a large town with lots of people, her voice contained a mix of curiosity and excitement, something that sounded as if she was willing to try anything, no matter how daft or dangerous it seemed.

“A M1911 .45 caliber pistol,” said James, glad to know that the girls were not after anything, “I’ve had this for a few months now.”

“What’s a pistol?” the southern sounding girl asked.
James was about to reply when a gust of cold wind hit James in the face.

“Unusually cold for a June night,” he said zipping up his hoodie. He looked at the girls standing in front of him shiver from the cold. James suddenly felt sorry for the kids, they had gotten lost and were now looking for their families in the freezing cold wind.

“Come with me,” said James holstering the pistol, “I’ll make sure you’re warm and safe.”

He passed them and motioned for them to follow. The southern girl and the purple haired girl followed James closely, the neatly dressed girl dusted off her dress and started to follow, when she slipped on a patch of loose stones.

“Whoa!” she yelped.
James was quick to act, he grabbed her arm and pulled her up to him.

“Best not to fall down there,” he said, “Heard there’s a snake living in the bushes.”

“Thanks for saving me,” said the girl. James led them to the mechanic bays, the three reacted to the messes made by the mechanics differently which James found rather amusing. The purple haired girl hopped from foot to foot, clambered across the car lift and jumped onto the table next to it, where she span around and sat on the edge of the table. The southern girl walked through the oil and dirt like it wasn’t even there, almost as if she had been around dirty environments her entire life, then again, she had overalls and boots on. The well dressed girl was treating the dirt like it was fire, she carefully walked around it, hopped over it and stopped dead because here was a puddle of oil in front of her. The other two chuckled in good nature as she made her way to the cleanest part of the floor.

“So then,” James said peeking out the window and seeing that Darryl was talking to Ed, who was another coworker, “Might I ask what your names are?”

“You tell us yours first,” said the purple haired girl.

“My name is James Rogers,” said James, “I was born in England and then I moved here to America six years ago.”

“Since you told us your name we’ll tell you ours,” the southern girl said, “My name’s Apple Bloom.”

“I’m Sweetie Bell,” said the well dressed girl.

“And I’m Scootaloo,” said the purple haired girl.

Comments

[Enfield]

1434660
Yep, the size of it was helpful when I was reading it on a long flight to England. I got bored because there was no wi-fi on the flight but I had the story saved on the Safari app so I was able to read it. It helped kill a few hours.

[theshinobistallion]

Well... This just got interesting

[Fa-18]

Well now...James has his hands full

[cherished]

A handgun in Britain? The skill? Is this guy Jason Statham?