Chapter 17
Jenna and I faced off against Gilda and the four thugs she commanded. I would like to say that I played the hero flawlessly, pulled out some kickass moves, saved Jenna and myself, and galloped off into the sunset.
Sadly, that is not what happened.
Thug one, a burly earth pony who looked like he'd done ten rounds of steroids meant for a minotaur, reacted first. He flung an odd device consisting of rope between two leaden balls toward me before I could even react. I didn’t get out of the way fast enough and the rope hit me right across the chest, the weights twisting and binding my front legs. I struggled against it, but only ended up falling onto my back, getting a prime view of thug two, a pegasus, in a furious aerial fight with Jenna.
Jenna swooped around the other pony, her nimble grace as a human translating effortlessly into flight. Two blades strapped to the bad guy’s wings glinted ominously as he stretched them out, trying to slash her out of the air, but she was having none of that.
In the small space of the room, I was astonished - but relieved - that it was possible for one pegasus to chase another and not catch them.
I think Jenna and I both knew that she should just go for the window and make an escape. As much as that made sound suvival sense, she wouldn’t leave me.
“Hold still!” the assailant growled at her.
“Not on your life, buddy!”
It was then that thug three came into my vision, a crossbow pointed right between my eyes. “Maybe on your spouse’s, then.”
Jenna flashed her teeth in anger, but reluctantly landed.
And then thug four hit me on the back of the head.
It was pain that woke me up. In my admittedly short experience, that’s the worst way to come out of a blackout. My forelegs were tied by ropes and strained outwards, holding me in an upright position on just two hooves. Effectively, I was making a “Y” from the YMCA dance.
I tried to stand up straighter, easing the pressure of the ropes that tightly bound my front fetlocks. Something brushed against my nose, and combined with my lack of vision I surmised that there was a bag on my head. And oh yeah, the back of my skull throbbed with pain.
I couldn’t think of a word or phrase that adequately surmised the situation, so I just settled for a groan. In response, I heard a slight movement behind me.
Jenna’s voice asked, “Are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she blurted. “They carried you in here and I didn’t know how badly you were hurt.”
“Eh, I’ll be fine, I guess.” I stretched a little, again trying to gain some small comfort from the awkward position. “What happened?”
“Aside from Ice turning out to be right about Gilda? And her apparently telling her goons enough about us to know that we’re spouses? Well, they dragged us across the street and tied us up here in this little bathroom.”
“I can't see. How little of a bathroom is it?” That was actually not intended as a joke. I was just suffering from my concussion.
“Maybe eight by eight feet. There's a sink and mirror on one wall and a toilet next to it. The door is opposite the sink. The ceiling tiles have been ripped down and we're tied to the overhead beams, back to back. The whole room is kind of grimy, so you aren’t missing anything pretty by not being able to see.” Jenna paused for a moment. “Why did they put a bag over your head, anyway?”
“Unicorn magic can only be used by memory or line of sight," I replied. “I'm basically useless like this.”
Jenna was silent for several seconds. She asked, “Do you trust me?”
The question was unexpected, but I didn’t pause. “Yes.”
I felt something brush my back as she moved slightly. She said, “I’m going to try to swing high enough to kick the mirror.”
I had no idea why she wanted to do that, but didn’t take the time to ask. Jenna backed up against me to get a running start and then leaped back in her own direction. I heard a crash and tinkle of what was apparently a breaking mirror.
“Well that’s seven years. Guess I’m not winning the lottery anytime soon,” Jenna muttered under her breath. She came down from her leap, hooves clacking on the floor. She grunted in pain, probably as the ropes tugged at her outstretched forelegs. I heard some scratching, like a piece of mirror being carefully scooted across the floor.
One of her legs bumped mine. Jenna said, “Okay, now I need you to pick that up. It’s a piece of glass about three inches long and roughly triangular in shape. It’s beside your back leg.”
She carefully touched my hoof with hers, telling me exactly where I should reach for. I carefully got my magic going and attempted, without looking, to aim for that spot. It took a few seconds, but I thought I felt the shard.
“Good,” Jenna encouraged as I picked it up. “Can you cut yourself loose?”
“I don’t know how I’m tied,” I admitted.
Jenna thought for a moment. She leaned until I felt her touching my back. “Feel that between us? That’s the rope holding my wings.”
I carefully raised my improvised cutting tool to that area. With careful directions a fraction of an inch at a time, Jenna steered me in. “Good, good. You’re there. Okay, start cutting.”
I hesitantly put a little pressure on the edge, unwilling to either risk slipping and hurting Jenna or breaking the fragile cutting tool. Slowly sawing back and forth, it took several minutes to fray the rope enough to get through.
Jenna asked me to stop and managed to break the last few strands on her own. I heard her wings flutter and stretch out the kinks. One of them brushed over my back and neck. “Just give me a second, dear.”
She hovered off the floor. By the sound of it, she must have been using her teeth to work at the ropes that bound her hooves. In another few minutes, she was done.
Jenna pulled the hood off my face. I leaned forward to kiss her. “We are an awesome team,” I murmured.
She chuckled and said, “Let's see how good you are at untying knots without fingers.”
I hadn’t yet explored the intricate side of magical knot untying, but managed to do the job. Dropping back to four hooves was welcome relief. Not that I wanted to continue walking quadrupedally for much longer, but getting loose was the first step to solving that problem.
I still had my knife, sitting in its pouch in the belt around my neck. That discovery actually gave me pause. Were they really bad at searching us before stringing us up? A Swiss Army knife was not common in Equestria, but surely they might be a little worried about it being useful to me?
Or, I thought, did this mean Gilda was very deep in her undercover work, but still trying to help us out? Did that mean we could trust her? How did Ice’s comments factor into all this? Could we trust him?
The answers to all of those questions were either “I don’t know,” or “no.” It was at that moment that I decided not to trust anypony but the one right beside me.
Speaking of Jenna, she turned to me. “They didn’t come bursting in when the mirror broke, so I’m guessing that the hallway right outside this room is not being monitored.”
I nodded. “Okay, so how do we get out of here?”
“Through the door, down the hall. There’s another door to the warehouse floor and then we have to cross the building to get outside.”
“Wow, how do you remember this stuff?”
She gave me a smile. “Once you memorize your lines in a couple of plays, the little stuff gets easier.”
I knew that, but even the little things kept amazing me about her. I would have called the feeling too good to be true, but when you and your wife are fighting for your lives, enjoying the small stuff was important.
We opened the door cautiously. The hallway looked about as run down and worn as the bathroom. There was nopony in sight.
Making our way down the hall as quietly as we could, Jenna and I came to the door we were supposed to exit. Unfortunately, we heard a mutter of voices from the other side.
“Well, what are we supposed to do? No way is Joe coming down here himself to approve the deal.”
“Dunno. Let the griffon take care of it.”
The information didn’t seem to pertain to us directly, and hanging out there to listen more was a risky idea. Instead, Jenna and I would have to find another way out.
Down near the other end of the hallway was a large air vent in the ceiling. As it was part of a large building, the ducting also had to be quite voluminous. The vent was held on by a screw on either side.
“Do you have any idea where this goes?” I asked, staring up at the vent.
“I think I remember some vents going towards the opposite wall,” Jenna recalled. “If nothing else, we can hide in there until they leave.”
It was simple work to use the screwdriver on my knife to get the grate off the vent. With Jenna’s help, we both got up inside it. Then, I put the screws back in and slipped the knife through the bars of the grate. I secured it back in its holster and we set off.
Even as a little pony inside a large vent, there still wasn’t that much clearance. Luckily, most of the run was horizontal. Crawling on our knees, Jenna and I picked our way towards possible freedom.
I was tempted to try casting light from my horn, but really didn’t want to know what was inside the vent. It felt filthy. Plus, there were other grates at periodic intervals and I didn’t want anypony to see light coming from within.
Speaking of the grates, Jenna paused at one and then motioned me forward. “Take a look,” she whispered.
We were near the back wall of the warehouse. A few crates and pieces of equipment dotted the floor. There was an enclosed area off to the side that must have been where we were being held. I saw two stallions standing in front of the door. If we could find some way to exit the duct in a place that was out of their sight, then maybe we could sneak close enough to the exit door to escape.
The two of us kept crawling. Sure enough, we did find a convenient grate. There were several boxes and pieces of cargo between it and the two guards. I set to work on the screws and got them out as quietly as possible.
Operating the screwdriver with magic was kind of novel. With magic, I didn’t have to keep stopping to get a better handhold on it, so it was almost like using an electric screwdriver.
Jenna and I were both covered in dirt and whatever else had accumulated in the duct. That was a minor problem for the moment. We crept towards a few nearby barrels and crates. Jenna pointed to the exit door on the opposite wall. “There.”
I measured the distance with my eyes. If the thugs guarding the door were still where we had last seen them, then we could probably make the dash across the floor and be outside before they caught up.
I carefully began looking for a sightline through the obstacles to confirm that the two stallions were in fact where we expected them to be. Instead, I caught sight of Fleur coming across the floor. I had forgotten she was there, what with other problems and all.
To my even greater surprise, I saw Gilda step out from wherever she had been waiting to meet Fleur. I gulped. Gilda had been behind a stack of freight near the door. If Jenna and I had made a break for it, she would have easily intercepted us.
“What do you want?” Gilda asked, giving Fleur an impatient look.
Fleur drew up short. “Wait, you’re the griffon I saw at the club earlier.”
“So what?”
Gilda’s question was delivered in a tone that wasn’t quite rhetorical, but severely discouraged an answer. Fleur took a moment to regain her composure. “I’ve come to discuss the terms of my deal.”
“Which deal?” Gilda asked.
“I made it with Joe. He provided me financing to buy into The Metronome.”
“What about it?”
“The plan is not paying off as it was supposed to. Octavia has interfered, to say nothing of her associate Millie and-”
She was cut off by Gilda’s chuckle. “Sounds like you’re in over your head.”
Fleur glared at her. “I am not. I just need a bit more time in order to get full possession of the club.”
“What makes you think that you can get the deal to work?”
“Well, Octavia is feeling the pressure, and I happen to know a few things about Millie that could-”
This time, Gilda cut her off with a wave of her talons. “Millie? You have no idea who you’re up against - what you’re up against.”
Fleur snorted. “Oh really?”
Gilda nodded. “Just cut your losses. There’s no way you’re going to be able to hold up your end of the deal. That’s a lot of money to pay Joe, money you don’t have. Maybe if you’re lucky he’ll let you work it off. I heard there’s an opening at the gym that he owns to give employees like me the illusion of gainful employment.”
“I don’t believe this.” Fleur scoffed. “I just asked for one favor, a little more time, and you-”
“Just who do you think we are, a charity?” Gilda went beak-to-nose with Fleur, her expression hostile.
If I was standing in Fleur’s horseshoes, I would have backed off. Not only out of common sense, but fear for my life. Instead, she insisted, “It’s not a big deal. I mean, Millie is just some small timer that nopony’s ever heard of.”
“Millie is a lot more concerning to me than you are,” said Gilda, a note of growing anger in her voice.
Fleur smirked. “What, are you afraid of a pretty little mare like that?”
Gilda ripped her face off.
My gasp of shock was masked under Fleur’s screams as Gilda’s talons raked her flesh. I jerked back from where I had been watching, eyes wide and heart rate spiking.
Jenna hadn’t seen what happened, but the sound of a somepony being skinned got the point across. We both looked at each other. Jenna’s ears were pulled back with panic and I’m sure mine were, too. It was time to leave, now.
I threw open the door with magic and sprinted as hard as I could for it. Gilda’s head jerked up and she started to turn but I was already past her and nearly to freedom.
Jenna and I went through the door simultaneously, her flying above me. Standing on the sidewalk outside were two mares. One was white with a slicked back green mane and tiny John Lennon sunglasses. Her cutie mark was some sort of complicated orchestral piece, and overall she looked like a slightly dated musician. The other was sky blue with deep indigo eyes and a pale grey mane. The mark on her hip was a six pointed star surrounded by five smaller stars, like a spark or something.
I probably remember the pair so well because I collided headlong with them as I burst out the door.
“Call the cops!” I blurted, picking myself up and turning to run. There was an angry roar from somewhere behind me as Gilda cleared the door and gave chase. I galloped as hard as I could, cursing the Lunar Guard that they would put me in a female body of average fitness and below average leg length.
Jenna could fly faster than I could run, but kept pace with me. She looked back and I could see in her grim expression that Gilda must be gaining.
“Go!” I shouted at her. I didn’t really have time or presence of mind to tell her where, or what to do when she got there. I trusted her ability to get help, but didn’t know if it would arrive soon enough.
Jenna locked eyes with me for a long second. It was like a high-bandwidth connection, we exchanged so much raw emotion with just one glance.
The link was broken as a shadow passed over us. Jenna dodged to the side as Gilda dropped from the sky right where she had been. Gilda swung her attention to me and with one slap of her talons sent me flying off my hooves.
I landed hard on the sidewalk, rolling and trying to get up. Gilda hit me again, in the shoulder this time. She drove me to the ground and latched a set of talons around my throat. Then, she took off, carrying me with her.
I had no idea where Gilda was taking me, carrying me with her front legs ahead of and below her, but there was no time to think about that. My instinctive reaction to being choked was to kick at her belly. I probably should have thought about the possibility of her dropping me, but in the heat of the moment it didn’t come to mind.
I wasn’t in the greatest position for an effective kick, but Gilda grunted as I made contact. She scrabbled with me, trying to subdue my movements. With magic, I yanked the leather belt from around my neck and flipped it over her head, cinching it up.
Gilda squawked and managed to get her left talons up under the belt before it cut off her windpipe. She strained to hold me with just her right.
I focused as hard as I could, trying to end this fight. I didn’t care that we were somewhere in the sky over the city. I didn’t consider what might happen if I failed. I just kept tightening the belt around her neck.
“You-you really are Miller,” Gilda gasped with the breath she could muster. Her tone was completely out of place for the situation. It was complementary, admiring. And it surprised the heck out of me.
I never paused in my efforts, not even for a fraction of a second, but Gilda took advantage of my astonishment and her talons sliced right through the belt. She balled them into a fist and hit me in the face.
The first blow stunned me into submission. The second knocked me out.
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Two editors, and yet...
3058948 Fixed.
3058948 At least he has incredible turnaround time!
I made a derp face when I read those first few paragraphs.So Gilda was already planned to be a bad guy?
3059341 What plan? This is me you're talking about - I write by the seat of my pants.
But like the author note says from last chapter, it's only going to get more interesting
poor Fleur ...she was a bitch but she never deserved having her face ripped off
Sweet mother of the Pope's shit... she's evil, but... poor Fleur
Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuuuun
Was not expecting the face-ripping.
Well now, that was like the lorry that fell from the sky, not the one that rounded the bend.
If Gilda tries to hurt Octavia I'll get my portal gun and enter this story and send her to the moon human style.
Huh, Miller doesn't know what bolas are? What kind of former criminal is he?