The squad, with the addition of Zecora trudged through the empty city, attempting to set a good pace. They needed to meet up with the rest o the Company as soon as possible. The longer they were separated, the better their chances were of not making it to the capital in time. Their hope was that they would get back together, which would give them a better chance of taking the capital.

Zecora kept close to Macintosh and Marktime. They were the only ones she was really comfortable with, and they were the only ones really comfortable with her. The three of them had become very tight in the last two days, and were almost inseparable. Macintosh would occasionally lock eyes with Zecora, and would quickly look away out of embarrassment. He knew that he felt something for her, but it might just be because he felt indebted to her, like he owed her something.

The city was massive, bigger than Macintosh had originally assumed, but they were making excellent time as they crossed it. The buildings were not that big, simple houses with one or two stories each lining each side of the road. But the city went on for miles. They could feel the heat off of the ground in the humid summer air. The air was hot and uncomfortably moist as they trudged along. Zecora seemed used to it but, then again, this was her homeland.

Marktime occasionally had to stop when he would feel his injury getting wet with sweat and starting to burn. Zecora would sit him down and change the dressing on his wound, taking time to crush up some of her herbs and lay them onto the bullet hole. Incredibly, the injury seemed much older than it really was, looking more healed than it should have in just two days. The herbs must have been responsible for that. The breaks would be hurried along by Macintosh and the rest of the squad, who felt a sense of urgency towards getting back to the rest of the Company. Before too long, they were trudging through the city again.

By nightfall, the squad was just outside of the city. They were cloaked by trees and tall grass where they were. Macintosh decided that this was as good a time and a place as any to break for the night. He got Zecora and Marktime comfortable before meeting with Splintstitch to get the full plan of action. He and Splintstitch dropped their packs and fished out their maps to compare.

“So, like I said before,” Splintstitch began pointing out locations on the map, “We split off about here.” He pointed to just east of their current location. “Then, we came back here for about a day and a half to find you guys. By our calculations, and by the original plan, the rest of the Company should be about here.” Splintstitch pointed then to a spot a few miles northeast of them. “If we keep up the pace we had today, we should meet up with them just before they reach the capital.”

“Perfect.” Macintosh nodded.

“Then the fight begins.” Splintstitch added.

“The hope is that there won't be any fighting.” Macintosh said, turning to Splintstitch and removing his helmet. “The idea is that we get in silently and capture Koren. Then we can have him order his forces to stand down. After that, it's all a matter of waiting for the Equestrian Army to get there and take him back to Equestria for his court martial hearing.”

Splintstitch nodded. They both knew the plan. Splintstitch took off his helmet and dropped it next to his bag. His clothes were damp with sweat and from the humidity of the day as he peeled off his jacket and beret for the night. Splintstitch rolled out his sleeping bag and lay down on top of it, looking up at the stars.

“This is the best part o my day.” Splintstitch said. “When I look up at the stars, it makes me feel like I'm back home, like I've never left.”

“Since I got here, I haven't been able to see the stars.” Macintosh noted, unbuttoning his tunic and taking off his beret like Splintstitch had. “And I must say I'm glad.”

Splintstitch responded by giving Macintosh a look like he had just grown a second head.

“Let me explain.” Macintosh continued. “I don't want to be reminded of home. I want this place to remain completely separate. When I go home and look at the stars, I want only good memories to be attached to them, not thoughts of war.”

“That's why I want to see them.” Splintstitch explained. “Because those are the memories I have connected with the stars in the sky, and I need a little encouragement. That's why I fight, y'know.” Splintitch turned to Mac. “I fight for those memories in the hopes that we can go back to them.”

“I fight so people can go back and make those memories.” Mac added.

“I guess we're two sides of the same coin.” Splintstitch smiled. “You fight for me, and I fight for you.”

Macintosh smiled back and they stood in silence, staring back up at the stars. They hoped for their own ideals. Macintosh bid his friend a good night before returning to Marktime and Zecora to see if they were getting settled in. He came through the foliage to see Marktime bundled up in his sleeping bag, with Zecora keeping a watchful eye on him. Macintosh took a seat next to the Zebra and looked her in the eyes.

“Is he doing all right?” Macintosh asked moving close to Zecora.

“He'll sleep through the night.” Zecora confirmed, nodding lightly.

Mac and Zecora sat in complete, yet comfortable silence, just enjoying the others presence. Marktime slept soundly, snoring quietly and occasionally starting to turn over, before realizing that that would hurt, and turned back onto his back. Zecora was still wearing the green tunic that Macintosh had given to her back at her house. The colour almost complemented her, Macintosh thought as he looked her over.

“Do you think that you are ready to fight?” Zecora asked, finally breaking the silence between them. “Is victory within your sights?”

“I really think so.” Macintosh nodded. “Good always seems to have a way of coming out on top. I think that when we get to the capital, we're gonna have a pretty uphill battle. But I'm sure that we'll come out on top. I promised...” His last words trailed off.

“Who?” Zecora asked, leaning closer to Mac.

“My sister, and my Granny.” Macintosh replied. He reached into his tunic pocket and fished out a slightly bent picture of him and his family. “That's them here, with me. I promised Granny and Applejack, that's my sister, that I would be home in just over a week.”

“That's a tall order.” Zecora said.

“Well, back then, it seemed pretty likely, and it might still be. If we can reach the capital in a day or two like we plan.” Macintosh smiled. “I can't wait to see them again.” Then, a thought occurred to the red stallion. “Where will you go after the war? What about your family?”

Zecora looked saddened by the question. But before Mac could apologize, she spoke. “My parents died when I was young. A picture of them, on my wall, I hung. I had no siblings, no bro or sis. So my parents most of all, I miss.” Zecora looked gloomily, yet hopefully at Mac. “After the war is fought and won, to a new home I will run. Perhaps to your country, I will go. If there is somewhere that you know.”

Macintosh thought for a moment. “Maybe you could move into Ponyville. That's where I'm from.”

“But what if other ponies don't like me there?” Zecora asked. “They would connect my presence to you, it would not be fair.”

“Ponyville is a really nice place.” Macintosh assured her. “We accept all kinds of races into the town. You could be safe and loved there.”

“I would need a place much like my home.” Zecora noted. “Some place I could call my home.”

Macintosh looked around at the foliage. “There's always the Everfree forest. Most ponies don't go in there, you would be safe from any ridicule. And there are a lot of herbs in there that nopony knows about.”

“The Everfree forest, it has a nice feel.” Zecora said, then moving in and hugging Macintosh, finished. “Once the war's over, it's a deal.”

Macintosh felt as if he had just made another promise. He would now win this war, not only for his family and friends, but for Zecora, so she could find a new home. Macintosh could not wait to get home, but knew it could take longer than he had anticipated. Slipping the picture back into his pocket, Mac stared over Zecora's shoulder into the distant darkness, wondering what secrets it held. The embrace was broken and the two of them, Macintosh and Zecora, smiled and wished each other a good night. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Mac realized that Zecora did not have a bag to sleep in, and offered her his like a gentleman. She gratefully accepted it, and Mac laid a tarpaulin for himself to sleep on. The night was warm, so he really did not need a sleeping bag to keep him warm.

Macintosh heard a twig snap, and it jolted him from his rest. His eyes darted around, it was still dark out. He quietly called out the names of various troops, hoping one of them would respond. Finally, he called out for Zecora, and heard nothing but movement. He decided he should investigate. He rose, hardly feeling the ground below him. Mac silently moved to where he thought he heard the first noise. All he found was a set of bloody hoofprints on the ground. Inspecting where they lead, he determined that they were headed in the direction of Marktime. Mac pulled out his pistol, though he didn't remember picking it up. Holding it in front of him, Mac moved towards Marktime's camp.

Mac burst through the bushes and aimed his gun at the only thing that moved. What he say terrified him. There Zecora was, blood on her fur and hooves, holding the knife she used to harvest herbs. Marktime was struggling under her weight as she tried to cut his throat. Mac took no time pulling the trigger as many times as it took to unload the clip, he thought he heard fourteen shots, but he couldn't be sure. The bullets, however, simply passed through Zecora and flew into his helpless friend, killing him. Mac clicked the trigger of his gun, telling him the clip truly was empty. Zecora turned, her eyes as red as the sun, a horrid smile dancing on her face. She barrelled at the now helpless Macintosh with her knife, and pinned him to the ground.

“How's your sister doing?” The Zebra hissed through clenched teeth. “And Granny?”

Macintosh watched the knife close in on his chest as Zecora slowly overpowered him.

“Macintosh!” Zecora shouted, snapping Mac out of his dream. “Wake up!”

He was still under the influence of his dream, though, and was terrified to see Zecora above him. He reached up and grabbed her by the shoulders, throwing her off of him. He got to his feet and panted furiously. His hooves shook as badly as they had when he had first met her. Slowly coming to his senses as he watched Zecora slowly rise to her hooves, Macintosh immediately regretted what he had done.

“Zecora!” Macintosh called, rushing over to the Zebra. “Are you alright? I am so sorry. I was having a nightmare and I-”

“It's okay.” Zecora said, looking up into Macintosh's eyes. “I understand.”

Macintosh fought for words to say, to apologize, but none came to him. He simple wrapped his forelegs around her neck and continued to pant over her shoulder. Zecora returned the gesture and whispered “It's okay” over and over to him. He had never intended to do her harm. The dream felt like the one he had had before he had left the country on his mission. In his mind, he knew that Zecora would never do something like that, but his imagination had gotten the best of him.

Author's Note

Where will the path lead them from here? Hopefully somewhere better. What will become of the squad? Find out next time. Same CogWing time, same CogWing channel.
-Cog out.