From the Flames of a Phoenix

        “We’ve got a village up ahead. Keep your eyes peeled and your weapons loaded.”

        Johnson kept his eyes to the path ahead as we approached the desert village. Our squad, Sergeant Johnson, Corporal Simons, Private First Class Bellsworth, and myself, was assigned to patrolling the desert tundra for insurgents in a humvee.

        I moved my finger onto the safety switch of my M16A2. Locked and loaded, I’ve had this gun since my initial departure from U.S. soil two months back. It has not seen a proper firefight, but I have trained with it in firing range.

        Simons turned back to face Bellsworth and I from the shotgun seat, “Bellsworth, mount the .50 cal.”

        Bellsworth nodded, opened the hatch, and climbed up. A few seconds later, he called back down, “Ready to fire corporal.”

        We rode in silence during our drive through the village and I fumbled with the end of my M16’s stock the entire time. The locals did not bother us, but they would stop and stare as we passed by. The village itself was eerily quiet and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

I could feel my squadmates relaxing as we finally exited the town.

I wiped the sweat off my brow and commented to no one,“Wheh- Those villagers creeped me the hell out, don’t they normally keep working while we pass by? Seriously, they just stared at us the whole time.”

Johnson spoke up from the driver’s seat, “I agree, something feels off today. Bellsworth, keep the .50 cal primed.”

“Yes Sergeant!”

I pondered for a second about what might happen. I tightened my grip on my M16.

“Simons, I remember you saying you were struck by an ied during your last deployment. Were there any signs beforehand that we can watch out for?”

        “Yeah, I guess, my convoy was approaching a town. No one from the town could be seen and when the first humvee reached the town a line of ieds went off below us. They swarmed out from inside the buildings and started firing on us.”

        Simons put his head down and sighed, “I was one of six survivors from my platoon.”

        Not sure what to say, I decided on a general response, “Damn. Sorry to hear that man.”

        Bellsworth bent down and poked his head out from the hatch, “Don’t worry about that Corporal, I ain’t planning on dying anytime soon!”

        I reached forwards and patted Simons on his shoulder, “Yeah man, we’re here with you, so don’t you worry about a thing.”

        I pulled my hand back from Simons and gripped the stock of my gun once more. After a few minutes, Johnson spoke from the front seat.

        “Unknown contacts, three o’clock. Bellsworth, keep an eye out on all sides. Report any strange activity.”

        Simons perked up and grabbed his gun from its perch on the dashboard and his finger hovered over the safety while I watched Bellsworth’s feet spin around as he scanned the desert dunes.

        “No hostile activity, sergeant.”

        Johnson leaned forward to get a better view of the contacts. After a few seconds he pulled back and stated, “Looks like a trading caravan, Bellsworth, keep an eye on them while we approach.”

        “Yes sergeant!”

        We reached the caravan and found out, that yes, it was a trading caravan. Simons and I searched the group for any weapons or explosives, but found nothing. We boarded the humvee once more and continued our patrol. The next hour was pretty boring and the four of us ended up just talking about our pasts.

        Turns out that Johnson was a mechanic before he enlisted. He knew a lot more about the humvee than I had given him credit for. Simons went on his first deployment after graduating from high school several years back. Both Bellsworth and I’ve done the same, except more recently.

        Eventually Bellsworth came down from his perch on the .50 cal and I replaced him for the time being. We kept to the sandy path made by countless patrols before us and currently, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Just sand dunes and the occasional brush as far as the eye can see. Shadows were casting along the ground as the sun started to fall below the horizon.

        Johnson called up from below, “I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first, Richard?”

        I kept my gaze on the dunes around us and replied, “Hm- Good news first then bad news.”

        Bellsworth spoke up, “Yeah! Let’s hear the good news first.”

        “Okay boys, the good news is that we only have two hours left on our patrol.”

        Bellsworth asked, “And? What’s the bad news?”

        I heard a chuckle from inside, “The bad news is that we have two hours left.”

        A small smile hit my face and I laughed silently. I could still hear Johnson’s chuckling from down below.

        Eventually, the sun disappeared and only a few fragments of light from behind the dunes reminded us that it ever existed. The temperature dropped from sweating our balls off to freezing our balls off.

        As the path grew darker my eyes adjusted to the low light. I turned occasionally to inspect for any signs of movement in the darkness. At one point I turned to face the front. The headlights shone far out from the front of our humvee and that light was reflected back by something.

        Whatever reflected the light was only about ten seconds ahead of us if we kept at this speed.

        “Sergeant! Stop the humvee!”

        The humvee lurched and came to a stop and Johnson yelled back, “What the hell is it private? Do you see something?”

        I skimmed the darkness around us once more, looking for any hostile contact. “Sir, there is something reflecting light in the road. It looked metallic. Also, we fucking need lights mounted on this .50 cal.”

        Johnson changed the humvee’s gear and drove backwards on the path until the object became visible in the headlights once more.

        “Well shit. Richard, keep your head low while I call this in.”

        I heard a click from below, “This is Sergeant Johnson, we are at fifty klicks east and twenty three klicks south of Foxtrot. There is an unknown device in the road, suspected to be an ied. The ground around it is disturbed and it is made of a metallic material.”

        A crackly voice from the radio spoke, “Roger, hold your position and watch for any insurgents. We are sending a bomb squad to your location.”

        “Yes sir, heading out.” Another click. “Alright boys, keep your guns loaded and watch the dunes.”

        We sat in the humvee for a good five minutes until Simons spotted movement to our right.

        “Sergeant, we have movement at two o’ cl- Fuck get down!”

        I turned the .50 cal to face the contacts, I expected shadows in the darkness to meet my gaze. Instead I saw a bright flash and smoke trailing behind something out in the distance.

Fuck!

I opened fire on the incoming rpg. The bullets impacting the sand behind it and left dents in the dune’s natural smooth landscape.

        The sound of the .50 cal blaring as it shot bullets was overwhelmed by the rpg striking the side of our humvee and detonating. The explosion rocked the humvee, and the right side was heavily damaged, but whoever constructed this humvee did a hell of a job because it was still together.

        “Oh god! My arm! My fucking arm!”

        Over the blasts from my .50 cal I heard Sergeant Johnson’s yell, “Our vehicle is compromised and we have an injury! Get that fucking squad over here!”

        I felt something grab my foot and heard Johnson once more, “Richard! Load those fuckers with bullets, and keep them off of us.”

        Instead of the standard ‘yes sir’, I aimed my sight down on the figures that launched the rpg and started firing lead at the bastards. The insurgents responded with bullets of their own, speaking in another language. One that anyone can speak, the language of war. I could hear the bullets impacting the metal shielding around me.

        The constant flashing of gun muzzles lit up the desert night. Through the flashes I could see the insurgents hiding behind sand. I only stopped firing when the shadows dropped and stopped moving entirely.  I figured I hit about six by the time I saw another group rise from behind another dune.

        Bullet casings clinked on the top of the humvee as I fired at the new group. At this moment I had all their fire on me instead of on my squadmates. Fuck, if I live through this shit, even I’ll be surprised. I could see the dents forming on the metal of my cover as each shot they fired was blocked by it. I downed at least two more before a bullet found its way into my left shoulder. My shoulder slammed onto the roof behind me.

        “Fuck! Johnson, I’m hit!”

        I let my left arm drop and I continued my assault with my uninjured arm.

Click. Click.

        Fuck fuck fuck. I ducked below the roof and slid to the left side of our humvee and exited, slamming the door behind me. Simons was sitting down and leaning back on the driver’s door with his head down. He had blood covering his chest and he was missing most of his right arm.

        Johnson was bent down over Simons and was applying a tourniquet to the stub that remained of Simon’s arm. Johnson looked up at me and yelled, “Keep those bastards off of us!” I did an impromptu salute and took a place by the hood of the humvee. At the backside of our vehicle, Bellsworth was firing from the corner at the insurgents.

        I peeked over the hood and saw the shadows advancing towards us. At the pace of their charge, they would arrive in less than twenty seconds. I ducked back down and checked my injured shoulder. Blood was trailing down from a bullet hole in my ACUs and I doubted I could use my arm for anything without experiencing some intense pain.

        I grabbed a grenade from my chest and pulled its pin with my teeth.

        One. Two. Throw the bitch!

        I twisted my body to fling the grenade towards the insurgents. The grenade arced over the humvee and exploded in the air above some of the occupied dunes. Screams pierced the air in a language I could not understand. I grabbed my M16 from its strap and switched the safety off. I grabbed the handguard with my injured arm to brace the gun from recoil, even if it will hurt like a motherfucker.

        Using my uninjured hand, I snapped the charging handle back and I grabbed the grip and placed my index finger over the trigger.

Fuck these assholes.

I positioned myself just barely over the hood and aimed towards the insurgents and started firing. To my left, out on the path I could see lights approaching, hopefully it was the bomb squad, else we were fucked. Oh shit, the bomb.

I turned to see a convoy of ours speeding down the road, they were aware of the attacking insurgents, but seemed to have forgotten about the ied in the road. About seventeen seconds before they will hit it if they don’t stop.

Fuck, I hate this job.

I aimed my sights down on the ied in the road and fired the rest of my clip at it. Every shot missed its mark and so I sprinted towards the ied while releasing the clip and replacing it.

Ten seconds.

Johnson yelled out from behind the humvee, “What the fuck are you doing Richard!?”

Now out of cover, three of the insurgents focused on firing at me. I ignored the pain lancing from my left arm and pulled the charging handle back once more. I lifted the sights onto the ied while sprinting towards it for a better shot.

Five seconds.

A bullet pierced my right leg and I felt my knee give in. With a final push from my left leg I jumped and flew towards my target while simultaneously pulling the trigger. Finally, a bullet hit my target in just the right place and the explosive detonated before the convoy reached it. Fire and scraps of metal shot out from the explosion.

While I did detonate it before the convoy could reach it, I however, ended up closer to it than I would have wanted. The flames engulfed my vision and I felt shrapnel slam into my chest before I finally blacked out from the pain.

        The sounds of a broom sweeping across the floor was the only thing I could hear. I used my hands to feel around me. I was in some sort of bed, but- wait, wasn’t I in that explosion? I snapped my eyes open, I was laying in a white bed and was covered by a white sheet. In front of my bed was a pony.

        However, this pony was not normal. It’s coat was white, but its mane was -well- red. It also had some mark in the shape of a red plus sign right above its thigh. It must have heard me moving and it was staring right back at me. After an impromptu staring contest, the pony ran out of the room.

        I just rubbed my eyes and decided I must have gone crazy. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and tried standing up, my right leg seared with pain and my knee gave in and I crumpled to the floor. I was about to push myself up when I heard the clip-clop of heels approach from the doorway. The bed was in the way so I could not see my visitor.

        “Here, let me help you up.” A rather feminine voice stated, I then felt myself being lifted by something, but I could not see anything. It felt like it was gripping my entire body at once and it was freaking me out. I plopped back down onto the bed and got to see my visitor. Instead of a nurse, which I was expecting, there was a horse. Not the same one as earlier, as this one was also white and taller, but it had some sort of mixture of different pastel colors for its mane and it’s thigh mark was a sun. It also had wings and a horn on its head.

        I continued scanning the room to see if anyone besides the horse was with me or if I was just hallucinating.

        “Hello creature, I assume your name is Richard?”

        Slightly confused, I responded,  “Uh… Yeah. How did you know? And also how are you talking to me right now?”

        The horse smirked -seriously, how is that even possible?- and answered me, “I found it on your outfit when you arrived. Also, we’ve been speaking in my native tongue, Equestrian.”

        Okay. So apparently this ‘Equestrian’ is the same as English, and this horse can speak it.

        I did a quick analysis of my injuries and found the hole in my left shoulder was gone. No sign of injury to my right leg either, but it hurt like a bitch. My chest was fine, except it felt sore. I pinched myself to check if I was really awake. Ouch- Yup, I was awake.

        I sighed and put my head in my hands. The horse trotted up to the front of my bed as I looked back up. Upon closer examination I could see that the horse’s face was nothing like a real horse. Rather, it was a softer face in general and much bigger eyes that could show expression much like a human face.

        “What’s wrong creature? Also, what are you?”

        I sighed again, “Well, to start, I don’t know where I am, what you are, how my squad is, if they think I’m dead, how I got here, or why I’m speaking to a horse.”

        The horse seemed to give me a look a pity and she begun to answer my thoughts, “You are in Canterlot Castle, in Equestria.  I am named Celestia, I’m an alicorn, one of the subspecies of ponies. I am one of four known alicorns. There are three other subspecies which you will meet in time.

        “I do not know anything about this squad of yours or where you came from, but I found you in my garden covered in my phoenix’s, Philomena, ashes.”

        Wait- a phoenix? What else lives here! Also, why the hell was I in its ashes?

        “Well, I’ve never heard of Equestria, and phoenixes are only legends from where I’m from. But that still doesn’t explain how I got here.”

        A purple pony head with a horn peeked around the corner. It’s mane was a darker purple with lighter highlights.

        “Celestia! Can I examine it?”

        Celestia turned to face her, “No Twilight, there are things that must be done before you can meet it.”

        Twilight was visibly downtrodden by this news and she slipped away. Celestia turned back to face me.

        “That was Twilight, my personal student, she is a unicorn and is very curious about what you are. So, Richard, what are you?”

        “I’m a human, I’m from the United States of America.”

        Celestia seemed to ponder this information for a second, but quickly responded, “What is the last thing you remember?”

        I moved into a more comfortable position in the bed and prepared myself to tell my story of the past day, or rather, what seemed to be the past day’s events to Celestia. She sat down on her haunches and waited for me to start.