Author's Note

The song in Twilight's head is "Ride Like The Wind" by Christopher Cross. It came into my head and I listened to it while I wrote that section.

NEW NOTE: - You have all been too kind and refrained from asking how the heck a pony can carry a gun - As you may well imagine, there is much discussion about this in the Writers Group.

In gratitude to you and on your behalf, I have designed a completely useable Equestrian Revolver that would even have a “click.”

http://fav.me/dbt1tcq

Happiness is a Warm Gun

The sun had not quite crested the horizon to spread its light across the cold prairie, but the deep blue of the sky showed it was near. The pre-dawn chill had left the sagebrushes and prairie grasses dusted in the frost of the early morning.

It was quiet and warm within her dome and Twilight stirred and smiled. As she slowly opened them, the world looked hazy to the little unicorn through bleary squinting eyes. She lifted her head and looked around her. Vague shapes and soft glowing objects in the almost of sunlight that suddenly spilled up over the horizon. It bathed the flat prairie in an orange golden flush, splashing on the sides distant buttes illuminating their rich earthy tones. Beneath the little stones and desert dust under her coat, the packed orange brown earth smelled dry and soft.

Everything looks so blurry outside - I wonder if my vision was affected by the scorpion's venom? Maybe a leftover effect? Maybe whoever it was that held me in the dream decided to take me back in his arms and protect me. But wasn’t that a dream? I asked him to take...wait a minute... Ohhh - I know what’s happening - it’s the condensation on the inside of my protective dome spell! Dummy! It’s so warm in here and cold out there that my breath has condensed on the invisible surface of the shield...

Her jaw stretched wide in a yawn that was deep and satisfying, following it with an intense stretch, pointing the tips of her hooves out as far as she could and arching her back in a moment that felt so good it seemed like a guilty pleasure. Then she went completely limp, lying in the little afterglow a moment or two longer. As she sat up tiny stones and pebbles fell from her coat to the ground. She sleepily brushed the dirt from her shoulder and forelegs then out of her mane. A slow riser she sat for a moment with droopy eyelids, smacking her lips.

A close examination of the wound to the underside of her hoof showed the area was no longer tender. There was a very slight mark where the stinger had punctured her skin, but no pain and no sign of infection. She smiled, recalling her actions the previous night. A month ago it would have been kind of gross, no, very gross, to have put her mouth anywhere near her underhoof, but a month ago she was a different pony. Dewey’s head appeared out of one of her saddle bags. She looked down at him and smiled.

“Good morning little guy. You know Dewey,” she said casually, “out here in the wild you need to learn how to survive on your own, to do whatever you need to, no matter what it is or how gross. If you can’t tough it out, then hit the road, baby. Not everypony is cut out for this stuff- it takes guts to keep a cool head when attacked by a wild creature that injects highly poisonous venom. You live out here, you’re used to it. A pony like me - just got to tough it out.”

She stretched her forelegs above her head. “I suppose I’m going to have to read about the scorpions that inhabit this area of the desert.”

Twilight could sense the cold morning out there. The cozy warmth of her veiled dome was wonderful. Here and there drops of water ran down the side of the the invisible wall leaving tracks behind. She touched one of them gingerly with the tip of her hoof, then began to draw little pictures in the condensation. She drew her cutie mark and Celestia’s, something she used to doodle all the time when she was a filly at the academy. Next she drew a heart and wrote AJ + TS inside of it. She sat and looked at it for a moment, anticipating the inevitable pain. It came, but there was a tiny part of her that wouldn’t let the emotion take over. It was as though a small spark of hope inside kept it in check. Or maybe she was just too worn out.

What to do next… She thought about lifting the dome spell but decided she’d leave it in place until things warmed up a little more out there. It wouldn't take very long once the sun was higher. The drops of water that had coalesced around what she’d drawn caught her attention. As before, they had begun to fall like tears streaking down the wall. It brought to mind a wonderful trilogy she’d read while still at the academy. It was a story about a royal family who moved to a desert planet. Water was so scarce it was practically sacred. It was one of her favorites. “You know Dewey, if I could capture this condensation on the walls we could replenish our water supply.”

It seemed like a great idea - very resourceful and clever, and something that would make them more self-sufficient. Then she began to consider the source of the moisture. Her breath and her sweat. After wiping off her dusty hoof against her coat, she drew a straight line in the condensation, soaking the part of her coat that covered the front of her hoof. She brought the tip of the hoof to her mouth and touched it with her tongue.

Not bad… But actually drinking my sweat? Like in those books? That always seemed a little gross to me. And really, how much water can I expect to capture from the inside walls of this dome? Maybe a quarter of a cup? Maybe half? Still, I didn’t see any sign of water anywhere around here. I’m sure those outlaws down there would be willing to sell some of their water but I don’t have any bits and I’m pretty sure they’d rather have other forms of payment from a young mare.

Twilight sat, legs crossed, knees to her chest, forelegs wrapped around them, rocking ever so slightly, thinking about it. She knew she was stalling, putting off the inevitable. Struggling up from her subconscious was an idea she wanted to hold back, just like the pressure in her bladder...

At last there was no denying it. There was a solution to her water problem - she needed water, she was holding water. The logic was inescapable. Dewey watched her face turn a pale green. She looked at him. She’d just lectured him about having to tough it out in the desert, out in the wild and how she was clearly up to the task. Dewey continued to look at her.

“Shut up Dewey. I get it. I should warn you I haven’t done a purification spell since the academy and I only had to remove blue food dye from water in that lab. What if I mess it up? What if I get sick from it? Actually I’m getting sick just thinking about it. And then...oh that is just too gross! Drink my own pee?” She looked at Dewey, “Don’t look at me like that. Okay, so maybe I’m a little weird about my bodily waste. I know I know - I have to get over it if I’m going to survive- you think you have to tell me that?”

She rummaged through her once perfectly organized saddlebags for her survival book.

I really have to clean some of this stuff out of here. Let’s see, here’s that pretty rock I found in the stream. Sorry Maud, you’ll just have to live without it. And here is a candy wrapper. I shouldn’t litter but I just have so much garbage in here! Hey - here’s one of the paper bags they gave me on the train. I can use it for my garbage. Great - wait, what’s this?

She peered in the bag and pulled what appeared to be a note.

“Hmm what do suppose this is Dew?”

She read aloud:

My sweet little pony who’s heart has been broken - try to never take for granted what is granted to you and seek the significant in what seems insignificant. It will make all the difference in your quest.

-Golden Spike

Twilight smiled “I wish you could have met this zebra, Dewey. He was amazing. He owned the railroad that brought me out here.” Twilight smiled down at the little lizard near her hoof. He looked up at her and blinked.

“I know, you want to know what he meant about my broken heart. I’m sorry, I’m just not able to talk about it yet. I promise that one day, I’ll tell you all about it, okay?”

Dewey blinked again.

“Thank’s for understanding little guy”

Twilight continued to pull little bits of garbage out of her saddlebag and fill the paper sack. With each addition to the bag she felt the pressure in her bladder increase. She stared at the canteen, specifically it's tiny opening. Finally she picked it up, turned it this way and that, as she examined the opening, puzzling over how to transfer the contents of her bladder into the canteen with a minimum of waste and splashing.

After a deep breath to clear her mind, she took note of all the things she’d pulled from her saddle bag now spread all over the ground. Was there something that would help capture her urine and funnel it into the canteen? She looked down between her open legs and scowled. Then she looked around at all her worldly things spread before her. Then back down between her legs, opening them wider and peering closely at the setup. Then she looked up again at the canteen and finally up at an indifferent sky, utterly vexed.

“There are times when I really wish I was a colt!” she said in frustration. “Okay, now let’s see - what do I have that I can use? There is no way I’ll be able to pee into that little opening in the canteen without spraying all over the place. Maybe I can use my hoof and kind of guide it. Hmm, I could go into my drinking cup and pour it into my canteen a little at a time. But how will I hold myself and hold my cup and stand up and guide it? Normally I would use my magic but I found I cannot answer nature's call and concentrate on magic I’ve tried, believe me...”

Then her eyes flew open wide and she smiled in delight..

“I’ve got it!”

Using the hoof trowel she'd packed she started digging a small trench, just wide enough to fit her cup and about a foot long. The trough was deep enough so that the lip of the cup was even with the ground.

“Okay, now I just have to... *grunt* ...scoot my butt over here and sit so that my business end here is right over the cup.”

Twilight sat astride the trench, directly over the cup in the trough. She placed her hooves on either side and carefully pulled it open in an effort to guide the stream.

“Here goes nothing...!”

To her delight everything worked as planned as the cup began to fill.

“Look Dewey! It’s working!! Perfect!” she exclaimed, smiling.

She quickly filled the first cup and using magic gently poured the contents into the canteen.

She successfully completed a second cup and then a third.

Just as she started on the fourth, for some unfathomable reason, a sequence of thoughts and images occurred to her:

What if I were spotted by a Cockatrice right now? It would turn me to stone in this position sitting with a shocked expression on my face at seeing the Cockatrice, my legs spread wide, and me holding myself apart with my hooves… I would be found like this and, and, what would happen? They would make me into a statue! They’d stick a hose up by butt and turn me into a memorial fountain - maybe even one that rotates! They could place me outside of the entrance to the Academy for Gifted Unicorns.

There for all eternity, peeing… forever peeing…

Tinkle tinkle little star…

“Oh no oh no no no, can’t laugh!”

But it was too late. She'd started to laugh after the image of her rotating around, legs apart etc, and peeing.

As the laughter started, she did her best to staunch the flow, but was unable to expunged the image from her mind and with every laugh she’d squirt out a little more. The images in her mind, the sound coming from the cup, the entire situation threatened to make her topple over in laughter.

Finally it did.

She lay on her side in convulsive laughter. She got to the point where she could barely breathe. Her face was bright red as she tried to get herself under control. She pressed her legs together in a futile attempt at stopping the flow, but it was no use. She felt the warm liquid between her thighs and quickly opened them. This rolled her onto her back. Now she lay there, legs wide apart, holding her stomach in hysterics.

Of course now there was no stopping it, her dignity was entirely gone and the fountain between her legs began to shoot into the air. She looked down at it and squealed in hysterics at the sight. Tears streamed from her eyes. She rolled back on her side until the laughter finally subsided.

She lay there panting, chuckling softly and wiping the tears away with the back of her hoof.

The inside of her thighs were soaked but she didn't care. She just lay there enjoying the feeling of having had such a wonderful laugh. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed. It felt so good.

She lay there a little while longer unable to stop giggling at not only the image of tour guides presenting her statue to the families touring the campus, but laughing at herself for how much she’d over-complicated everything. The survival book was within reach. She grabbed it, not bothering to sit up, and looked up the appropriate chapter.

The book described a number of purification spells that dealt with different situations. The first one was for seawater, the second was for urine. The spell called for the canteen to be open. She sat up and reached over, picking up the canteen.

"Ugh, it's warm. She brought it closer, held it up, and very carfully put her nose up to it, as though a cobra might jump out at her. She sniffed, then recoiled.

“Whew!! I stink! Very concentrated uric acid. Well I guess I am kind of dehydrated... Now to get down to business!”

A lavender glow appeared first around her horn and then around the canteen which she’d leaned up against a rock. Several moments passed then the glow disappeared from each. Twilight cautiously approached, her nose twitching with each sniff.

Nothing

Closer still and still no scent.

“Maybe this is going to be okay.” she lifted the canteen. “Ugh - still warm.” She brought it to her nose. Nothing. Next she poured a little into her upturned hoof and looked at it, her eyebrow raised in skepticism.

“I guess it’s the moment of truth…”

Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and had to force her tongue out between clenched lips. She touched the liquid. Nothing. She opened her mouth a little and licked. Nothing. Then took a little sip. Just warm water.

“I did it!! I did it I did it I did it!!” she squealed.

Dewey looked at her and blinked.

“Thank you Dewey, you’re too kind!”

Twilight successfully performed the same spell on her drinking cup and had the same result.

“Nice and clean. Hey! I just had a great idea!" She closed her eyes and her horn began to glow, but now all the wetness between her legs and stomach glowed as well. She giggled at the sensation. A moment later the purple haze disappeared. Twilight leaned forwad and picked up the small towel that she'd removed from her saddle bag. She wiped down her front, enjoying the feeling of clean water onher coat.

"Oh Dewey, that was wonderful! And I sure needed it! Between you and me I was getting a little ripe down there. I appreciate that you are too much of a gentlegecko to say anything. But oh that was so nice... Well I think it’s time to see just what’s going on.”

Twilight stood up with a gleam in her eye and made the dome vanish, causing a momentary shower of condensation to rain down upon on her. She felt a slight chill as the cool morning air blew across her damp coat. She shook her mane in response.

“Oh that feels great! Doesn’t that feel great Dewey? Oh that feels great!”

Dewey just looked at her.

“Too much?”

Dewey blinked then accepted her outstretched foreleg, jumping aboard and running up to her mane. Once there he perched himself atop it and looked around the prairie.

Twilight levitated her binoculars and lowered the strap around her neck then walked as quietly as she could toward the bluff that overlooked the campsite of the outlaws. There was a slight rise just before the drop off. As she approached the edge she dropped down and crept to the edge on her stomach, covering herself in another protective shield. She peered between two sagebrushes.

“This is what Rainbow Dash calls ‘Ninja style.’” Twilight whispered excitedly as she reached the edge of the bluff. Relief spread through her at what she saw - Their tents and supplies appeared to all still be there. Twilight realized that had they packed up to leave, she’d probably have heard it. Her sleep the previous night had been fitful. Vague images flitted through her dreams, some comforting, some scary, some unsettling, but they’d all come at the very edge of sleep where any noise would have woken her.

She scanned the campsite through the binoculars. Nothing moved below. The sun now just above the horizon cast long shadows across the cold prairie. Twilight was surprised at how warm it felt on her back, despite its low angle.

“I wish I could figure out which town they were going to Dewey. So, what do we know?

1.There are four of them:

Red - the leader,

Sharpis- sounds like the brains

Flint - probably the gun ...and finally that hideous creature

Smackwater - gotta be the muscle

I know I’m mixing my genre’s here Dewster, but that’s what they would have called them in my books. I wish I knew what tribes they were from.”

She paused, looking off into the distance beyond the camp, The land transitioned from desert to prairie as it went north. Off to the right toward the northeast would be Tombstown. She thought she could see it but wasn’t sure. To the northwest, about equidistant, at least if the map were to be believed, was the town of Fetlock Flats. No luck spotting that either. She re-adjusted the focus and looked down at the campsite.

“I wonder what they look like - I’ll bet grizzled desperado’s with scars across their faces. Missing most of their teeth, probably evil beady eyes and ratty coats.”

Motion from one of the tents caught her eye. She could see a shadow on a tent roof, undulating. Twilight pulled her head back in reaction and waited. The tent fabric shifted again then the door flaps moved. One of the outlaws stepped out.

He was an earth pony of average size but looked quick. His coat was azure blue and his eyes were a deep blue. He had a thick blonde mane and tail and on his face not a single scar, just a neatly trimmed mustache and sideburns. The low angle of the sun highlighted an impressive physique. He was well proportioned, and from the way the morning sunlight rippled across the flexing muscles shifting under his rich coat, there was no doubt he was in excellent physical shape and took care to look good.

“That could be Red, but something tells me it’s Flint. I don’t know why, Dew, I just have that feeling.”

Flint stopped, leaned forward and down stretching, arching his rear haunches in the air. The muscles in them flexed, firm and strong. Twilight’s mouth opened just the tiniest bit. Then he let his hips drop and raised his shoulders, as though doing a swayback pushup. His shoulders and withers were broad and powerful. He craned his head up to the sky, the muscles in his neck flexing.

She decided that maybe he wasn’t all that unattractive.

They sure don’t make ‘em like that back in Ponyville. she thought, then turned to Dewey,“Why do you think a handsome pony like him would take to a life of crime - can you tell me Dewey? I thought he sounded like the nicest of the gang last night. I don’t understand why some ponies do that. I’ll bet if he left he could find a nice mare, settle down and have a family. Some nice lucky mare,” she paused, fine tuning the binoculars “..some really lucky mare...” she mumbled.

He strode toward a shallow pit on the perimeter of the camp A strong snort of steam streamed his nostrils as he exhaled in the cold morning. Something nudged at the perimeter of Twilight’s thoughts, but she pushed it away. Something that told her this was private and not something she ought to spy on, but she ignored it.

He reached the pit. Twilight, was no longer able to pretend that she didn’t know what he was about to do. Back when she was a Filly Scout they’d learned how to dig a “wet pit” which was a latrine that campers used when they had to “make water” she remembered. She chuckled at the term. glancing over at her canteen. When she went camping with them she never used the one they dug, preferring to go out into the woods to take care of things in private. She had to admit she’d been pretty prudish. At the academy she wouldn’t wash herself while any other mares were in the dorm shower, choosing to wait until they all were at dinner. Before Applejack she used to wonder if she’d ever ever let another pony besides her mother or a doctor even look down there.

Now she found herself conflicted. Which meant it was time for a list...

Okay..

I’ve never seen what I think I’m about to

But technically I’m spying on him

But he probably wouldn’t mind if he knew. He’s probably let lots of mares look at “it”.

But this is very unbecoming of a princess. What would Princess Celestia say?

Still the, uh, scientific part of me is very interested in seeing his, uh in observing this. But if I do it, am I being unfaithful to Applejack? But that Applejack is dead and gone. There’s nopony I’m being unfaithful to.

But watching another pony do this is perverted.

So what’s wrong with being a little perverted? Applejack and I got pretty perverted. But that felt like love, and trust… Gotta stop thinking about that.

Maybe if I watch I’ll find out if I am I really a filly-fooler…?

Why is today suddenly all about pee?!

In the end she decided this was not the time or place and so began to turn away. As she did, out of the corner of her eye she saw something moving between his rear legs.

She turned and quickly looked back through the binoculars.

The Equestrian male equine was built with strong abdominal/pelvic muscles that normally kept all reproductive organs tucked up next to the body. If you looked at a colt close enough to be very rude, you could see enough, but not too much. The mechanics of urinating and copulating required the male to spread his rear legs and clench the muscles of his pelvic floor which drew everything down, thereby lowering the genitals to the necessary angle for either act.

As Twilight watched this happen with Flint down at the campsite, it brought to mind somepony lowering the solid oaken drawbridge at the Canterlot castle. She suddenly found herself unable to think of a single reason to look away. But then she suddenly found herself unable to think at all. Stretching his legs apart had lowered it and now it hung there.

As Flint finished positioning himself, spreading his rear legs a little farther apart, Twilight’s eyes grew wide. He just stood for a while, indifferent, letting it hang there, swaying a bit, as though getting positioned. Then he reached under, took hold of it, and balancing himself carefully on three legs, carefully slid back the outer skin. He seemed to take his time with this, as though he were revealing it to an anxious audience. Twilight held her breath, watching as it slowly emerged. Finally she saw it - the thing that all the mares in the upper school at the academy talked and giggled about nonstop in hushed, excited, tones. They thought they were being so clever - calling it all sorts of code names. It looked, to Twilight, kind of ugly, though perhaps worthy of closer examination. She then considered it in action.

So I’m supposed to let him put that thing in me? I don’t think so buster!!

Despite herself, she was unable to keep from imagining what it might feel like. A hot flush of excitement that passed through her body leaving behind a memorable tingling sensation.

Flint slowly craned his neck back again and groaned in relief as he released a powerful stream. In the stillness of the morning Twilight thought she could hear it faintly as it gushed out into the pit. A whisper of steam rose from the stream of urine as it hit the cold morning air.

She took a long good look at it, at the shape, the color, the size.

So that’s a cockle. Cockle? No, cocky. No not cocky - cock! That or a dickie... at least I think that’s what they were usually called, I don’t exactly remember.

Maybe I was a little hasty. Maybe it isn’t so ugly after all...

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad...

Even with it grasped in his hoof, there was still plenty to see. The gush soon ended but he kept his hoof wrapped around the base. He shook it a few times then gave it a squeeze, pushing forward down the shaft. The exposed length of the shaft and head swelled up, and turned a darker shade of purple. Twilight gave a tiny gasp. With great care and in no rush he let his hoof slide forward, easing the foreskin back down the shaft and over the head.

Curtain closed, show over. He let his foreleg drop back to the ground and gave a little smile of relief, closing his eyes.

But he wasn’t quite done. With his legs still wide apart, Twilight watched the muscles in his haunches clench hard as he started to roll his hips forward in a slow, powerful, deliberate thrust. Like a long slow whip, the easy roll started at his hips, curved up his body, along his spine past his now arching shoulders, and up his neck. Now, as it passed into the base of his skull, his head went back, his eyes closed and his mouth opened slightly. From that mouth came a deep soft husky moan.

It was a stretch. A really good stretch, and sometimes a good stretch can end in a verbal expression of pleasurable release.

Twilight had been holding her breath. Now it came out as a pitiful whimper.

By the time she’d recovered her wits Flint had trotted calmly back toward the campfire pit. Using a stick he pushed several flat stones out from under the pile of glowing coals where they’d spent the night.. They were glowing hot. He arranged them in a circle, flat sides up. She watched him as he was blowing on the still hot bed of coals and adding twigs and sticks to revive it. As the fire flared up, he put the coffee pot on the hot stones around the fire.

She took one last look at his face just before he turned around His eyes looked bluer and softer now, his chin more chiseled. He was, without a doubt, far more handsome than when he’d first exited the tent. She rolled on her back and closed her eyes, letting the morning sun warm her chest and stomach. Dewey had made himself comfortable atop her head, in her mane.

As she lay there, eyes closed, she pictured it in her mind and began to recall what the mares at the academy had said about all the different things they’d done with their colt friends and their ...cocks. It seemed like there was no end to their usefulness, so many things you could do with them. As she lay there thinking on it, trying to gauge Flint’s size. Reflexively she opened her mouth, wondering.

It was at that moment that Twilight’s body told her that she definitely wasn’t a filly fooler. She rolled back over on her stomach, brought the binoculars back to focus and stared at him. She decided he was the handsomest colt she’d ever laid eyes on. She watched as he poured coffee from the pot into a cup. He sat down on a nearby log, facing in the direction of the bluff. She watched him hold the steaming cup between his hooves, and blow across the top of it. He brought the cup slowly to his mouth and just before he drank he grinned, his cheeks going into a dimpled smile and his deep blue eyes suddenly looked up, straight into Twilight’s.

She felt her heart stop for a moment and silently cursed the deep blush of shame she felt crossing her cheeks.

Can he see me?!! No, there’s no way he can see me! Is there? Ohhhh… she squealed in worry..

Then she thought she saw a tiny gesture, as though he were lifting his cup to her, but he just sipped his coffee, grimaced at the bitterness and let his gaze drif to her left, at nothing in particular.

Was he just looking at me? Did he see me?!! How could he? I’m behind this scrub! There is no way! If he did why didn’t he warn the others? He just looked right at me! Then he smiled. I think. Oh those dimples! Oh those eyes…

Suddenly she ached for Applejack. She needed to hold her and kiss her, to feel her body next to hers, to press her muzzle in the crook of her neck. Up until now she’d felt the emotional pain of separation, but this was something with which she was unfamiliar. It wasn’t the need for sexual gratification it was a need for physical nearness. The scent of earth and hay and apples. The scent of her sex and her coat and her sweat. It felt as through a part of her was physically missing. She felt despair filling her soul, as though her days of light were gone forever and only a future of muted colors and dullness awaited her. She watched Flint pour more water into the blue coffee pot with water from a canteen. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at the camp.

Could you make me forget about her? If I let you, would you? If I went down there and led you into your tent, would you follow me in then kiss me and take me to your bed? Would that work? Would it take away this loneliness, this dead feeling inside? What would I do to be rid of this? What wouldn’t I do?

The old familiar emotional pain was returning to her heart. Suddenly Dewey’s upside down head popped down from her mane and he stared at her. She looked at him and smiled. The pain began to ease and her body shook once or twice with something between a laugh and a sob. With the back of her wrist she wiped her eyes and cheeks.

“Thanks Dewey, you’re right, I’m not alone. You really know how to make a friend feel better.”

Dewey blinked and raised his head up, looking off into the distance.

“You’re right again little pardner, time to hit the trail. I need to think about what is here and now, there’s no time for anything else. How about some breakfast first? Let’s see what we’ve got.”

The previous forage through her saddlebag hadn’t produced much more than some stale bread and some peaches that had seen better days. She lifted one and took a bite, brown spots and all, without even thinking about it. She gave a tiny bit to Dewey who seemed to enjoy it. As she chewed the stale bread, she pretended she was enjoying a large stack of pancakes. Thoughts of Spike crept into her mind and she recognized the danger there. She’d deliberately kept him from her mind. The pain would be too intense to bare and so it would be far too dangerous, almost as much as thoughts of Applejack. In some ways more so. She confined her thought of him to his being with Rarity having fun on their tour, meeting all kinds of ponies and having all kinds of adventures. As the two of them partied into the night, Twilight carefully crept away, distancing herself from them and focusing on Dewey. It cheered her up.

Down below, the camp had started to stir. She wiped the peach juice from her muzzle and raised the binoculars again. It looked like Smackwater was out of his tent. He too was an earth pony, a drab brown coat, large and fat with a scar that ran across his cheek. Most of his left ear was gone, down to a black ragged stump. His face was dull and cruel and after what he’d said last night, it sickened Twilight to look at it. She saw him speaking to the other pony and knew that she was right - the one she’d spied on had to be Flint.

There was no sign of either Red or Sharpis. She wondered if either was a pegasus or unicorn. Pegasus ponies were generally not found out on the frontier unless they were part of a large Pegasus settlement. To find one out on his or her own was very rare. Unicorns were generally not made to feel welcome. Magic was something that earth ponies out here didn’t trust. It wasn’t that they couldn't hold their own against it - more than one unicorn lay dead after thinking that his or her magic was quicker than an earth pony who knew their way around a firearm. It was practically impossible for a unicorn to use any kind of magic without the glow of their horn giving them away and that’s all the time a gunslinger needed to draw and shoot.

“So Dewey, they have to head due north for 3 or 4 miles before they come to that fork to go east or west. I wonder if we can circle around to their right and parallel them? What if we just go to the fork ahead of them and hide nearby? They’re just getting up, they won’t be on the trail for awhile.”

Twilight quickly packed her things into her saddlebag, and with Dewey perched in her mane headed north east, intending to run around their right side and up to the distant fork. She started at a simple gait, trotting along at an easy pace. As she did a song from her days at the academy came into her head. “Run Like the Wind.” She found herself picking up speed with the tempo of the song. “It is the night…” it began.

She felt light, driven by the excitement and the new day. She found a good gallop pace and was surprised to find that she could keep it up. On my way to help somepony! The thought excited her and she heard the song playing as she ran. “...gonna run, run like the like the wind to be free again…”

Her galloping hooves thudded solidly on the hard packed earth of the prairie and she breathed in time, her breath steaming out of her nostrils rhythmically along with the music in her head and her galloping hooves.. The long grasses, still wet from the morning dew whipped across her legs, chest and belly making them damp. She loved every minute of it. Flying was wonderful, but a good run had it’s own amazing grace. She was far enough away to escape detection and was careful to watch for any dry areas so as not to stir up any dust. Her saddlebags slapped her flanks at a rhythmic counterpoint as she galloped re-enforcing the song in her mind.

Every so often she would glance over her left shoulder for any sign of them. The morning sun now came arching higher, a giant orange fireball, heating up the prairie and burning off the remnants of the morning's dew. She felt perspiration break out across her flanks and back, then on her forehead. As the wind blew past her face, it left her mane streaming behind. Glancing back she thought she saw a wisp of smoke from their campfire which meant they’d be having breakfast. Great! All the more time for her to get there ahead of them.

Twilight could feel the sun full on her right flank. To her left her long morning shadow galloped alongside her. She smiled, seeing the warm orange glow of Celestia’s gift light up the sides of the buttes that rose from the deserts off to the west, casting huge long shadows over the land. Twilight galloped on, excited and happy then turned slightly to her left and headed due north. Gradually she let herself drift more left, toward the west. Sooner or later she would intersect the trail. Far off in front of her she could see mountains. They were easily 30 - 40 miles away.

Then she saw it - the trail.

Oh no! I don’t know if I’ve passed the fork or not! What am I going to do? Oh Twilight, Come on! If I have and I go west, I’ll find the path to Fetlock Flats, but if I haven’t then I’ll waste time running for a path that isn’t there!

Analyzing the map didn’t offer any clues. All the points of reference were too far off to be of use.

If only I had a compass…

A memory began to stir. When she’d lost the first magic duel with Trixie she’d gone to Zecora for help. Her friend had begun to teach her a number of mystical practices and ways of focus and mediation. One of her disciplines involved reaching out with her feelings and touching the earth. It was very difficult and required focus and calmness. She wondered if she might be able to sense….

The air was totally still. Twilight lay stretched out on the ground on her stomach, her forelegs and back legs stretched straight out as far as she could reach. Her head was bowed down between her forelegs. She emptied her mind and began to feel the earth under her. She felt each tiny pebble against her belly, her chest, her thighs, her forelegs. Waiting...waiting… Deep concentration on reaching into the earth with her energy. Deeper into her mind she went. She remained completely focused on feeling the earth where it pressed up against her.

Slowly, in her trance, her body began to rise off the prairie floor. Her horn began to hum softly. About a foot off the ground, her upward motion stopped and she floated there. Very gradually her body began to turn. Through her horn she began to sense the magnetic fields around the earth. She had become a pony sized compass. All at once she knew the alignment was complete and slowly settled herself down to the earth. When she opened her eyes she saw that she was laying across the trail. It passed under her left hip and exited under her right shoulder. She was past the fork!!

Yes yes yes!! I did it! Now I just have to follow this south to where the trail splits and find a place to hide. I wonder how far north of the fork I can go and still see them? Heading them off is critical if I’m going to get to whatever town they’re going to before they do . .

“And I’ve got such a long way to go…”

As she headed south she kept a sharp eye out for any sign of the outlaws. They’d be headed directly toward her. Her shadow that ran to her right was shorter than the one that had run alongside her earlier and the dryness of the day began to take hold as the dew took its leave. Cantering south she tracked to her right, westward, hoping to find the trail that led to Tombstown.

Off to her right she finally spotted the other trail as it closed in to converge with the one she was on. Gratefully she slowed to a trot and headed toward it. The fork was about 35 yards south of her. She scanned the area, looking for a place where she could hide. She took out her canteen and gave it a sniff. Nothing. She put it to her mouth and drank. It was fine. She poured a little into her upturned hoof and Dewey licked away.

Waiting in the morning’s stillness, Twilight closed her eyes for a moment and reached out with her senses. It had become a part of her daily routine, to stop and reach out with her ears and nose and touch, taste but without sight. Off in the distance, far to the west she heard the faint sound of hoofbeats, creaks and jingles.

“Dewey, a wagon! That’s got to be a wagon. They’re coming down from Fetlock Flats…” she paused, “...they’re heading toward the outlaw’s camp! We need to warn them!”

Twilight trotted out to the trail and peered north. She took out her binoculars and scanned. There in the distance she saw an empty wagon being pulled by two ponies. As she fine tuned the focus she could see that they were two colts - one was gray with a mustache and the other was jet black with a jet black mane. She felt the hairs around her mane stand up as her stomach started to tighten and her heart to beat faster.

“I-I think we need to get out of here Dewey, something is telling me this isn’t good…” panic crept into her voice. Twilight looked everywhere for a place to hide. All she found was a depression behind cluster of weeds and scrub. It was 25 or 30 feet from the trail’s edge. She ran for it and dove into the depression. Using magic she lifted loose soil from the surface around her and began to bury herself in an effort at camouflage. She’d never been happier at her decision to shift the color of her coat to gray. Even with the cluster of plants hiding her head, Twilight lay her head down and squeezed her eyes shut as though diminishing her awareness might equally diminish theirs.

The sound of their hoof beats got louder. She lay perfectly still wishing her heart wouldn't beat so loudly. There was no rational reason for this fear which frightened the little unicorn that much more. The cart wheels crunched along the trail and the hoof beats slowed now. She felt as though her heart would explode in her chest. As they got to where she’d been standing only moments ago, they stopped.

Silence.

The early morning was perfectly still.

Are they playing some sort of sick game? Are their guns drawn and pointed at me, waiting for me to look at them before they pull the trigger?

Remaining perfectly still, Twilight opened her eyes. Through the shrubs she saw the two of them, still hooked up to the wagon. They were looking in her direction. A cold flash of fear burst inside followed by a wave of fear and nausea. But then the jet black one looked away, off to her right, still scanning the land. He reached for the canteen he wore. Maybe they hadn’t seen her She looked at the other one.

His coat was gray. He wore a black Stetson. His deep set eyes glinted like ice. He did not move. His stillness alone seemed to keep his companion in equal silence. She waited for him to speak to her. To tell her to get up and ask her who she was and what she was doing. He did nothing.

Does he see me? Maybe not…

Laying perfectly still, Twilight glanced for a moment at the dark pony. He was a rich jet black, his coat shining with sweat from the exertion of pulling the wagon. His mane was a deeper black than his coat if such a thing was possible. Halfway down his neck his mane had a shock of deep red in it. His eyes never stopped looking around him as he drank. The expression on his face told her a great deal about him, even with the canteen up to his mouth.

“There was somepony here....” the gray one said.

Twilight looked back at him. He hadn’t taken his eyes off where she lay. She felt a chill run through her at his words. He spoke slowly, his voice evil and desolate, something from the grave. Twilight felt as though she’d swallowed liquid lead and it had pooled in her stomach.

Then he looked off toward the eastern horizon, the brim of his hat shading his eyes from the early morning sun. “...I’m certain of it.”

“Well they’re gone now. Consider the hour Sharpis - and we’re both tired - we were up late last night burying that pony.” He seemed oblivious to what Twilight sensed was the true nature of his companion, one of darkness and evil..

Sharpis stayed perfectly still, still looking toward the rising sun. He spoke not to where he was looking, but rather in judgement. “I don’t see anypony now...” He continued then paused, almost reconsidering. Twilight felt as though she’d been given a reprieve from a death sentence.

“Perhaps, “ he slowed, “my eyes were playing tricks…” His words chilled her to the bone, She felt her life hung in the balance of this casual verdict, that he was with simple cruelty, taunting her with false hope. She waited for his decision. It seemed like hours...

“It doesn’t matter. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time will surely end with you dead,” he paused for what seemed like hours before slowly turning his eyes head back to where the terrified little pony hid.

“…one way or another.”

In his eyes she saw unspeakable ways of dying, ways that would make a pony beg to be killed. These were images never considered, never meant for her her to know, no reason for her ever to have to know them. No book in any library she’d ever been in described the horrors she saw there, no nightmare had ever frightened her so much. She squeezed her eyes shut only to see the horrors appear in the darkness and so quickly re-opened them. She could not think, could not question how those images appeared, she only wanted them gone.

Off in the distance she was vaguely aware of Red’s voice. “Let’s go Sharpis, those two idiots are waiting and we need to get to town.” Moments later, they were gone.

Twilight lay there, shuddering uncontrollably, her eyes wide open to the light, staring as though insane. She was unaware of her surroundings, of where she was. She became vaguely aware that she was biting down hard on her lower lip. The pain there and the taste of blood in her mouth were distant impressions. Slowly she turned on her side and curled up into a ball. Her thoughts were ragged, bits and pieces from her life, tearing through her conscious mind. Suddenly there was a burst of sensation in her mind. It was the same feeling she’d experienced when her horn had touched Applejack’s head one morning at the height of passion. The two had experienced each other’s reality, had shared each other’s deepest thoughts, had touched each other’s souls. Through the storm of images came her voice, calm and gentle.

“Close your eyes, sugarcube.”

“No no no, I can’t, I won’t, I’m too scared.”

I’m here Twilight, I’m right here. Close your eyes, I promise…”

Ever so slowly Twilight closed her eyes, and there she was.

Applejack.

Twilight found herself in bed, up in the library loft, next to Applejack. Twilight could smell the scent of their bodies as it mingled in the air. Rather than pain or anguish, Twilight felt an intense relief, followed by joy. Applejack smiled at her.

“There’s my naughty princess.” Applejack leaned forward and kissed the bridge of her muzzle. Twilight felt the tension in her body start to ease, felt herself slowly come out of the clenched ball.

“Wha- what was that?” she whispered hoarsely.

“Just a nightmare Twilight. You were having a nightmare.”

“But this is a dream. Did I wake from a nightmare into a dream?”

“I reckon you could say that. Being with you always seemed like a dream to me.” Applejack said with a nuzzle.

“I know this isn’t real, but that’s okay. I’ll take it.” Twilight nestled her head into Applejack’s neck and kissed her coat softly. She inhaled, smelling her lover, smelling their scents. It felt so good, it was the safest place in Equestira with the pony she loved most in the world. No time for tears or sadness now, just bliss. It was all she needed to expunge the remainder of whatever terror had gripped her. The loft began to transform and in a moment it was the desert prairie again and Twilight lay in the shallow ditch. But Applejack lay there beside her.

“You okay now sugarcube?”

Twilight smiled. “Yes, I think I am. Thanks for coming back here with me and not just leaving me back home. I don’t know what happened...I can’t remember.”

“That gray pony is very evil Twilight. He ain’t what he appears to be. We faced a lot of bad ponies together Twi, a lot of mean ponies, a lot of cruel ponies, but we ain’t never come close to anything like him, anything so evil. Promise me you’ll keep away from him.” Applejack looking concerned leaned forward and gently returned the kiss. They looked in each other’s eyes for several moments and then Applejack was gone.

Twilight opened her eyes and smiled. The memory of the dream began to fade leaving her with a feeling of calmness but also of wariness. She sat up and brushed off the dirt, stones and dust then stood and walked toward the trail. Southward down the trail there was no sign of them. She shook off, sending dust and dirt flying off her. She stood and looked down the trail for a moment of two longer. She was unable to recall the images she’d seen in Sharpis’s eyes, but she knew he was by far the most dangerous of the outlaws.

They must have gone to Fetlock Flats to get that wagon last night. They said something about burying a body - they must have killed somepony

Dewey peered down at her from her mane. She felt deeply moved just seeing his upside down face. “Dewey, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for your friendship. I don’t know what I’d do without you here. Making new friends is one of the best things in life, but making a friend like you goes right up there with my five best friends. I really love you little guy.” Twilight felt the tears in her eyes. Dewey chirped. Then he chirped again.

“Thanks. And you’re right - back to business - you know I’m going to bet that they’re heading to Tombstown, I don’t think they’d go back to a town where they buried somepony in the dark of night. Just to be sure let’s wait a little east of the trail, about halfway up to Tombstown. If they don’t show up after a little while we’ll head off toward Fetlock Flats. Let’s go.”

Twilight took the trail that forked northeast. Knowing that for the time being she was headed in the opposite direction from Sharpis lightened her heart. After a mile or so she turned and headed due east about 150 yards before turning northwards again.. The exercise of running cleared her mind and she felt the fear evaporate off her body with the sweat.

“This is quite the gamble, little guy. It shouldn’t be long now, it’s probably 8:30 or 9 and they’ll want to be there before noon when everypony will be out for lunch.”

Judging her location, Twilight sat with Dewey up in her mane. She waited, scanning the prairie with her binoculars. There was little to see, just large tufts of plants and dry brown shrubs, tumbleweeds and scrub. It was 30 minutes before she noticed the small dust cloud to the south.

“I see them Dewey. They’re heading up. Now let’s see… come here boys, make Twilight right…head for Tombstown...and..YES! Okay Dewey, let’s GO! It’s Tombstown or bust!”

Twilight had not anticipated all the rabbit holes, and fox holes and holes for all the animals that lived in holes. Although her layline was far shorter than the outlaws, they were on a smooth, hard packed, well trodden trail. Trot-run-doge-trot-walk. It was slow going. Off in the distance a tiny cloud of dust was kicked up by the four outlaws and their wagon.

“I’ll bet Flint and Smackwater are pulling that wagon now, Dewey. Do you think Sharpis and Red are riding? They probably don’t want to wear out the gun and the muscle. I’ve never been part of a crime like this before, it is kind of exciting. I’ve read enough crime novels and Daring Do books which might help me deal with these guys. How do you think they’ll play it? What’s their angle?”

She began to worry about the possibility that they would reach the town before she would. The map she’d committed to memory depicted the town with a single main street that ran east-west. Entering into town from the east, the first building you came across was the school house. It was on the right hand side of the road and was painted red with white trim.

Fifteen yards or so beyond that was the general store, opposite that was the post office. The town boasted 3 saloons, 1 hotel, 1 school, a bank, a dry goods store, the undertaker and the sheriff's office, doctor/dentist’s office, blacksmith, stage coach depot all facing the main street. One avenue ran parallel to the main street on either side with perpendicular streets between each building connecting everything. There were farms scattered around outside of town.

Twilight galloped up to the schoolhouse door, no longer caring about the dust she stirred up in the street. Before ducking in she looked down the main street to the far end of town, scanning for the outlaws. She thought she spotted one of them but the street was too busy with ponies to be sure.

As she entered the classroom she looked around. She was in the front of the room, the teacher about 10 feet in front of her. To Twilight’s right was the blackboard. A colt was busy writing something on it. The teacher, a young pretty mare, looked over at Twilight with an expression of displeasure.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone was firm - this was a teacher in control of her classroom, prepared to deal with anypony who disrupted it. Twilight instantly took a liking to her.

She approached the teacher and spoke softly.

“Yes, I haven’t got much time. My name is Rambing Rose and there are some outlaws who are planning to rob the bank. They’re on their way here to kidnap Mesa Flatts, the sheriff's son to take as a hostage. He needs to come with me. If he's not here when they arrive they will just leave. It's the best way to protect him and the rest of the colts and fillies. Now where does he sit?”

“Slow down, just what are you talking about…?”

A murmur of conversations broke out among the students.

“Please!” Twilight implored in a fervent whisper, “There’s no time! They’re going to be here any moment. Which one is Mesa?!”

“Calm down...” began the teacher, her anger rising but Twilight could hear the name Mesa ripple from the front of the classroom to the back like a wave. She saw several colts in the back of the class look up, one or two of them were already eyeing her up and down. They seemed to like what they saw and were making comments and snickering, especially the biggest one.

In her frustration at trying to deal with this obviously crazy pony, the teacher quietly said through gritted teeth, “What’s all this about outlaws kidnapping Mesa…”

The word kidnapping rippled through the class and suddenly everypony was quite.

For the first time Twilight noticed the colt at the blackboard. He’d never stopped writing but he might have been close enough to have heard most of their conversation.

“They will kill you and the kids and me, don’t you get it?!”

The teacher eyes were suddenly looking past Twilight, toward the doorway. Her face had gone white and her eyes were wide with fear. Twilight knew what had happened. The two killers were in the room.

“Just stay calm,” she whispered, “and follow my lead.”

The two stallions stood in the doorway of the schoolhouse. They held guns in their hooves and wore bandannas over their faces, leaving only their eyes visible.

“Mesa Flatts!” Flint shouted, “There is a colt in this room by that name. I advise him to get his flank up here NOW or one by one we will begin blowing the brains of his classmates all over their nice neat desks.” Flint's voice was certain and final. As he spoke he walked towards the back of the room.

Some of the students stared at him but most stared at the other, larger stallion. He was truly fearful to look at, with scars and patches of his coat missing and the black stub on an ear, but the worst aspect of him were his eyes. The wrinkles around their corners showed he was smiling, his eyes feasting on his young captives.

Smackwater walked up to the closest desk, cocked his pistol and pressed it to the temple of a pretty young filly with a blonde mane and big green eyes. She sat staring straight at the teacher whose heart was practically breaking at the sight. Tears began spilling from the fillies eyes, landing on her desk.

Twilight saw rage replace the pain in the teacher's eyes. She feared what might be coming next and looked for a way to stop it.

Smackwater reached over with his hoof and caressed her blonde mane. His smile had faded, replaced by an expression that turned twilight’s stomach. A tiny sound came from the blonde filly. The teacher turned toward the ugly stallion. Twilight, seeing what was about to happen moved to cut her off. Thankfully she didn’t have to.

“I’M MESA FLATTS!”

Suddenly all attention turned toward the blackboard. The teacher, caught off guard, froze.

It was the colt. Twilight looked at him. His eyes were locked on Smackwater, his face expressionless. She could see the muscles in his jaw tighten. She could also how he was fighting hard to keep his legs from trembling. He was skinny and about average build. She saw him shift his weight and wince slightly. Looking down she noticed his left rear hoof. It was slightly misshapen - almost a club hoof. His right rear leg had more muscle having been forced to compensate for it’s weaker partner. She looked back at the teacher who was staring at the young colt in utter disbelief. Flint walked toward the front of the room.

“No…but...” she said and stepped protectively in front of him. The class looked at him in shock.

“You got a lotta guts kid” said Flint. “You should be proud. More than I can say for those cowardly goofballs in the back, they all looked like they were going to lose their breakfast all over the floor when they heard that pistol click..”

All eyes looked expectantly to the back of the room as if something should happen.

Twilight leaned over and whispered in “Play along with me Mesa,” Twilight leaned closer to him and whispered, “just follow my lead and I’ll get you out of this alive, I promise.”

Mesa, not taking his eyes off of Smackwater, gave a tiny nod in acknowledgement.

Twilight had been standing near the head of one of the aisles. “Outta my way miss” Flint said to Twilight as he brushed past her. She looked for a sign of recognition from earlier that morning, but saw none.

“Excuse me!” she snapped officiously, “And just who are you and what do you want with master Flatts?” She thought she sounded pretty good.

Flint spun around and placed his pistol directly under her chin. The barrel pointed straight up toward the ceiling. Flint straight into her eyes. “Did you say something?” It wasn’t the threat in his voice that terrified her. It was the hopefulness.

Smackwater walked toward them.

Twilight swallowed and tried to keep her voice from shaking too much. “I’m sorry, but anywhere Master Flatts goes, I must go as well.”

“What are you, his nurse?” asked Smackwater, trying to be funny.

“In point of fact, I am.” Twilight answered, staring back into Flint’s eyes. “Master Flatts has a number of health challenges that require constant supervision and periodic injections throughout the day. Should he fail to receive his treatments, he will go into a seizure followed by a coma followed by death.”

Smackwater went pale. “Nopony said nothing about no needles.”

Flint stared at her as if trying to decide what to do. He slowly tilted the angle of the gun so that the bullet’s trajectory would pass through her brain, rather than just her muzzle. She waited for the click of the hammer. Darkness began to overtake her peripheral vision and she felt herself about to pass out. Suddenly she thought of him standing over the wet pit She had to fight the smirk that tried to spread across her face. She found her thoughts returning. He must have sensed it. Now she heard the click.

Then the most bizarre thought occurred to her, the most outlandish thing that she could imagine. She thought about kissing him, making love to him.. She looked softly into his eyes as those thoughts filled her mind.

His reaction was instantaneous. He suddenly looked completely lost. If she’d wanted to she could have leaned forward, kissed him and knocked the gun out of his hoof. Or kicked him where it counted. His jaw had fallen open slightly and his eyes registered a brain that was no longer entirely under his control. For the first time in her life Twilight Sparkle felt beautiful, felt the power of her sex over the male of her species. She’d read about it in books but thought it was silly. She had tasted physical desire with Applejack and had learned just how powerful that desire could be. Now she’d turned it on him and it had rendered him momentarily harmless as the circuitry in his brain spit a few sparks and started to smoke. Who needed magic when you were a cute, no hot, little mare? Then she dismissed him as though returning a dress to the rack having decided it wasn’t quite for her.

He sensed this and was angered by the spark of resentment it generated within him. He needed to re-establish the power structure. He leaned toward her and spoke softly in her ear. His voice was flat.

“You have either had a great many colts or you have had none at all. I’ll wager it’s the latter. You should know you are swimming in very deadly waters. You try a trick like that with the creature over there,” he said nodding briefly in Smackwater’s direction, “and in the flick of a tail he would lay you on your back on the teacher's desk. He would rape you first then stick his gun up there, and squeeze the trigger until lead found its way through you and exited the top of your skull.”

Every bit of resolve in Twilight evaporated.

The gun clicked again as he un-cocked it. “I can see you’re determined to see this through so here are the rules,” he paused. “Do everything I say without question and I will do what I can to get you two out of this alive,” she could smell the coffee still on his breath. “This is your one warning. You disobey anything, I’ll kill him then I’ll kill you. It’s that simple. Understand?”

She nodded and swallowed hard.

“You buckle on me, you collapse, you cause any distraction, I will kill you. You were NOT part of the equation, you got that? You are bringing additional jeopardy to our enterprise and there are others involved who will not appreciate it. Nothing personal, you understand, but they may ask that I kill you. Understand?”

Twilight thought of Sharpis and felt a sickening chill pass through her. She nodded numbly.

“It’s in your hooves, is that understood? Whatever you’re told to do, whatever,” he growled harshly. “You will do it or you and the colt will suffer. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

The implications of what he was saying hit home. She glanced at Smackwater who had his back to her, then looked back at Flint with fresh fear.

“Let him near you? Unlikely, while I breathe, but within the realm of possibility” he warned.

Twilight looked over at the colt. He stood as straight as he could despite his hoof and stared steely eyed at his captor. She felt her heart go out to him. She committed to herself that she would do whatever necessary to protect this brave little colt and suddenly felt emotion and fear churn within.

“I have to take care of him.” She said, her eyes welling with tears.

“I hope he knows how lucky he is. I hope they’re paying you well, because you certainly will earn it.”

She felt sweat break out on her brow at what he could have meant.

“I do believe we have us an understanding.” he said calmly.

Smackwater stood at the head of the classroom. The whispered conversation taking place behind him held no interest. He was pre-occupied. As he eyed each face it was clear that his mind was busy at work with possibilities and he was approaching some kind of decision as to a course of action. Thoughts of Sharpis and Red were far away. Here and now there was a rare opportunity...

It was then that Flint took a step back and removed his pistol from under her chin.

“We are leaving.” he said to the teacher, “You all will stay here and stay silent. If we hear any noise coming from this building the very first thing each of us will do is to place the barrel of our gun softly to the forehead of each of them, give them a moment to think of their families and friends, and then blow their brains out all over the street. I reckon you’ll be able to hear it.”

It was then that Twilight realized something about Flint. He had studied the art of lingual words. She couldn't remember the term for it, but it was something like the school for mares in that trilogy she had read about the desert planet. The choice of words in certain situations were as powerful as any weapon. They pre-occupied the listeners with images that captivated their imaginations. Those words could be used to a great many ends. Right now they were being used to terrify the ponies in this room. Even Smackwater looked slightly scared and somewhat ill.

The room was perfectly silent.

“Our getaway is planned so we’ll leave you to explain to the sheriff at his boy’s funeral, about how you just couldn't stay quiet. Understood?”

Nopony moved.

The little blonde filly in the front row stared straight ahead and shook as tears rolled down her cheeks. Flint looked at her. He nodded his head toward the teacher and the little filly jumped from her desk, ran to her arms and buried her face in her teacher’s coat, sobbing.

The teacher glared at the the two of them with such hatred and malevolence that it startled Twilight. Then she glanced at Twilight with an expression of uncertainty. Suddenly it occurred to Twilight that the teacher was wondering if Twilight was actually working with the kidnappers.

Flint looked at Twilight and Mesa then wordlessly nodded toward the door. Smackwater went out first. He was followed by Mesa, Twilight and Flint as they made their way out of the schoolhouse and into the dusty, harsh sunlit street and the day.