The Fast, Dangerous and the Furious

Chapter One: No Going Back

The skies above my head stared down at me with a boring dark color. I could practically feel the wood giving me splinters in my flank from just sitting here for an hour. Nothing but the dark moving clouds had captured my attention, that, and the long stretching shadow from the wall behind me. I could practically hear the pink bubble above it radiating with magic and making that buzzing sound every few seconds.

Come on.

Come on. Show up!

I risked getting shot in the back of the head, beaten into the ground by knight sticks and this guy is a no show. A quick glance at the clock behind me revealed I had been sitting here for well over an hour. An hour away from that Celestia damned wall was enough to put a grin on my face. Those bucking guards and some peaceful quiet time away from my best friend. Don’t get me wrong, I love hanging with her, but she’s the reason my stress levels are getting higher. And don’t get me started on how short my lifespan has probably gotten.

“Wait. Is that …”

I squinted my eyes.

The wood creaked while part of the railing snapped off. I moved my flank back before returning my gaze at the dirt path several dozen yards out from the two story bar I was hiding in. There he was. Strapped to a frost white glider that looked just beautiful as it did the day before, lined up with the broken fence roughly a quarter mile away. The wingspan slowly ejected out from the machine with a blindingly wonderful sight of red racing stripes.

Any time I felt stressed out or any time my mind needed to take a break, I could always come out here to find the same stallion racing gliders like it was his job. My personal favorite, a Pontiac, was one I had nicknamed 'the ghost' because of its pure white paint job. It was the type of glider that definitely had a mean streak, but if used correctly could deliver a quarter mile time like no other. At some point I almost want to time it just to see if it's as fast as it looks.

The stallion gently placed his hoof back on the gear shifter and pushed the pedal back into first. His back hoof moved over to the gas. The stallion galloped forward, shifted to second, then third. All four hooves moved like lightning with each shift! His mane swam in the air while he slowly began tipping to the side.

Come on. Go. Go. Freaking go!

Dust filled the air around him while his entire body spun around and slid across the path. The stallion hit the edge of the fence and stared down at what I’d assume is the wing speedometer. I could take a wild guess and say he topped out at a round one sixty wing power. He threw his head around shouting something I couldn’t really make out.

"Shit, maybe he topped out at one forty."

I closed my eyes letting my imagination take hold. I could see myself jumping over dusty hills with a glider strapped to my back. One of the dark blue ones with white racing stripes going all the way down the back of my machine to the large spoiler. The wind blowing my dark brown mane around and blasting through my matte grey coat. Galloping alongside a Veil Side Fortune and some silver bullet hot shot just starting to pull ahead.

“Runner!” I jumped and jerked my head to the pony standing behind me. Her pink mane and white coat told me exactly who it was. Silver Shoe. My hoof was raised at her muzzle in self-defense. Which didn’t make much sense since my pistol is strapped right in front of my cutie mark, which was a gear. “I figured you’d be out here. What’cha up to?”

Silver Shoe, my best and only friend, lay down next to me. She narrowed her eyes and put her hoof against her horn. I sighed once I noticed the stallion had walked off. “I was watching that stallion run another quarter mile. He topped out at one forty, I think.” Silver Shoe hummed taking a seat on her haunches. From where I was sitting I could see her cutie mark. Two silver dance slippers, well shoes, she doesn’t like people calling them slippers. Something about that word makes her feel less of a tough mare, or so she tells me. "What are you doing here?"

Come to think of it I can't even figure out why having a special talent in dancing doesn't make her feel less tough.

I scratched the back of my head and got up. Silver Shoe’s horn lit up a shade of magenta. My pistol floated out of my holster. She carefully looked it over. “You know it’s against District rules to be outside the walls. Ever. But since when do we ever listen to rules.” Silver Shoe’s straight face turned into a grin. That didn't answer my question though. In case she hadn't noticed I strongly dislike ponies dodging my questions. She faced me and shook her head. “I know you all too well, Runner, you always come out here to de-stress." She spoke rather bluntly. "Come on. Let’s head back.” My ears drooped down as my  eyes fell on the wall that stretched almost endlessly up.

Up.

Up.

And up.

I stared at the wall until I caught sight of the pink bubble glowing at the tip top of the rim. I sighed shaking my head. “I really don’t want to go back.” I jumped when I felt a hoof around my shoulder. Silver Shoe pointed straight at the red brick walls. Her hoof moved so that it was facing the open world. The world away from the District. The world I had dreamed and fantasized about since I had gotten just a tiny glimpse over that wall. Who would have thought it had taken crawling under it to see just how big the world outside the walls was. I wanted to explore it, but I know the world inside those walls more. I stared back at the wall and it gave me an unemotional stare back.

“It’s right there. Go on," Silver Shoe trailed off. It sounded as if she wasn't even taking to me. I stared out at the open plains heading in, Luna-only-knows, which direction it was.

My problem has never been leaving the District. I do that on a regular basis as is. The only thing stopping me is what's out there. From what I hear the Fireflies still operate around the open world. At least that's what I overhear the cops telling each other. We're stuck behind the wall because it's safer inside. I never believed that bull shit though. There have been signs of ponies trying to break in or at least that's what the claw marks on the walls suggest. Personally, I have always wondered what life was like outside, but never had the incentive to go further than the bar I enjoy hiding in.

Move. Come on move. Move your damn hooves. Ugh. I can stare at those roads all day, but my hooves will always feel like they are filled with cement. I took in a slow deep breath, turning my head. I slid Silver Shoe’s hoof off my shoulder and walked down the rotting creaking stairs towards District Twelve.

For once in my life I wish I had the balls to walk more than thirteen feet away from it. Okay, this ramshackle town is further than that, but I swear the walk to this place is becoming shorter with each visit. Just put one hoof in front of the other and keep walking, Runner. Silver Shoe’s warm voice caught my attention. “There’s a fresh batch of spores waiting for us inside the tunnels. I brought your gas mask with me.” My mask floated up next to her head. I exhaled and shook my head. I almost broke rule number one and that was to never leave the District without my mask on. Never know when a batch of spores will pop up. One good inhale and they will turn you into. Well. I’ve only seen them in stories, but feral creatures that only look pony.

There are several rules that must always be followed in this District. Rule number one: Always have a gas mask on you no matter what. Rule two: Be home by nine. No exceptions. Rule three: Keep your head down and don't talk to anypony you don't trust or already know.

Sadly, my rules have been known to change on a fairly regular basis. It's for survival. Especially when dealing with the cops. The cops are supposed to keep the peace, not make us fear for our lives.

"New batch of spores? Geez. More ponies must be trying to sneak in." I nickered.

I lit up my horn, watching it become engulfed in blue. My mask floated up to my muzzle and I strapped it on. I looked back up at the wall feeling smaller with every step I took towards it. It’s like those walls just keep getting bigger and bigger. I’d love to see them blasted apart or at least painted a different color. “Did you bring the map," I asked rhetorically. Silver Shoe rolled her eyes at me. I guess that’s a bit of a stupid question even if it's rhetorical. Her number one rule is to always have a map of the area at all times. Never know when you’re going to have to break from your usual path. “Alright, better question. Any sign of slave traders?” She shook her head.

Geez. Say something. Anything. For Cadence’s sake you are Silver Shoe, the one mare I can count on to give me some wisecrack about the pig’s eating donuts. Okay, that’s not the best one liner I’ve ever said, but the point is you talk a lot more than this! We looked around one last time before sliding down a small ditch right next to the wall. Silver Shoe looked up at the wall and shook her head. She put her hoofs under a large plank of would. I did the same.

“On three,” She said. “One. Two.”

“Three!” We shouted together lifting the plank up. Darkness. A pit of darkness lurked below us. I nudged my head and Silver Shoe slid under the plank first. My horn lit up and held the board long enough for me to slide under and into the darkness below.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I blinked a few times seeing nothing but darkness in front of me. My hoof bumped around my saddle bags until I hit my flashlight. The area around me lit up. I looked at Silver Shoe and saw her mask on. She adjusted her goggles and crept forward while water dripped on our heads.

As we walked past a few air filters we could hear the laughter of foals playing hoof ball in a brick jungle. An old stallion barked at them to leave, but they ignored him. I looked away from the vents and saw a dense cloud of orange smog floating around. It looked unusual, I mean even for an orange cloud of crap. “Shit. If there’s this much spores around here that means one of those things must have gotten in and died. Ugh.” Silver Shoe nodded silently. I still didn’t like how quiet she was being. Her ears drooped for a second and perked back up.

“Get on the ground now,” a stern voice called out from the other side of the wall.

Wait. Do the cops know? No. No they can’t. Oak Tree wouldn’t … he wouldn’t do that.

We both ran over to a vent and stared out at group of three stallions being shoved to the ground right outside their apartment complex. Three cops galloped out of the complex behind them and pulled out a pistol. Old school pistols, the kind a pony had to hold in their mouth, not one of the ones you could mount to your shoulder and fire by kicking said shoulder back a little. A pony almost the shape of an apple stood up amongst the other cops, the chief, had come to teach a lesson. The chief cleared his throat and looked around at a small gathering crowd. “Let this be a lesson to anyone caught outside the District walls or caught breaking our rules. Death awaits you.” I turned away.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Silver Shoe growled gritting her teeth. I pushed her away from the vent. “Just keep moving. We bust out of here now and I know for a fact they’ll turn more than just a couple of pistols on us.” Silver Shoe punched the wall with her hoof and kept moving. I could feel her anger from here. Silver Shoe was like a boiler, the longer she kept her anger bottled up the more it seemed to radiate from her like heat from said boiler. Neither of us liked dealing with the cops, or even being a ten foot barge pole’s length away from them, that’s also being levitated by a pony halfway across the city.

Besides, last time I went along with one your so called ‘Great Plans,’ my flank was shot at from every direction. Good times, I guess.

We made a left and heard the sound of more foals playing hoof ball. I took a quick peak for myself. A smile slowly grew on my face when I thought about me and Silver Shoe meeting in a game just like the one those foals were having. Tied game. Any ponies match.

Good times. I mean it to. That is one of the small fond memories I have of this place.

A large dull grey wall met us. Just a dead end. I looked at Silver Shoe and she was smiling. “Dumbasses weren’t smart enough to block this off,” I spoke under my breath with a smile. We looked up! Several crates and wood planks were positioned to look like a wall, but in reality it was put there to fool the cops. They would never think to look up, but even if they did they’d see a wall. Our horns lit up and brought each crate down slowly. One after the other.

Each crate moved in pairs of two until a wooden stair case was set down in front of us. The power of unicorns, baby! We jumped onto the first one, then the second, third and so on until we landed on the cement slab leading to a connecting hallway. Most of the cops here are earth ponies, which makes the irony in the fact they never check for this kind of stuff even better. Silver Shoe stepped closer to me and we both started walking back with our horns glowing. The crates levitated back up into place. “Hey, Runner. I was thinking …” I looked at her. She turned her head to the wall. “Never mind, we’ll talk when we’re out of this place.” Agreed. The longer I stood in this tunnel the more claustrophobic I felt, which was weird since I didn’t have that type of fear.

We galloped down the cold damp hall until a small ray of light broke through a crack above us. I approached it slowly. Yup. That’s our exit. I began my climb up a small ladder and put my hoof against a bookshelf blocking the entrance to our tunnel. With a bit of focus my telekinesis slid the bookshelf to the side letting Celestia’s makeshift lamp grace our presence with light. I jumped onto the hardwood floor taking a look around at a shamble.

The apartment room wasn’t much. A foldout table with a few comics sitting on it, an old TV that only played static, which the owner assured me was the best thing on these days since the cops pulled the plug on regular broadcasting, and an old couch which had a grumpy goat with a beard sleeping on it. I rolled my eyes.

Silver Shoe’s warm voice caught my attention. “The old goat still asleep?” She jumped onto the hardwood floor and slid the bookcase in front of our escape tunnel. I gave her a nod before putting my hoof against the tip of my mouth.

Silver Shoe crept closer to him and shook the old goat. He groaned. “Psst. Oak Tree, thanks for letting us use the tunnels.” The goat tossed in his half slumber and waved his hoof.

“Sure thing, Silver Runner.” He always does that. How many times do I have to tell this guy that we are two different ponies? Not one pony with two different names mixed together! Ugh. I thought after being friends with us for a good year he would have noticed that. Forget it. I’m boring myself now. The old goat snored and brought a pillow to his face.

I opened a door and walked out of the apartment. Silver Shoe followed behind me and turned off our flashlights with her magic. “Keep the door shut, I’m having a sleep.” Having a sleep? The old goat started snoring again while Silver Shoe pulled the door close with a slight creak. She smiled halfheartedly. He might be an old stubborn goat that makes little to no sense and only likes playing Blitz, but we love him. Most of the time.

My mask was stuffed back into my bag while I looked out at the brick buildings that stood towering all around the city. No. My bad. District. It’s not a city, it’s a district the text books are very clear on that. Silver Shoe leaned against the windowsill with her fore hooves. A long sigh escaped her mouth. “So, listen. I’ve been thinking about this place. I mean really thinking … and … I want to leave.” I stopped looking around the city and turned my eyes to Silver Shoe’s. She was serious.

“You want to leave. Our home?” Her smile turned into a deadpan. Yeah, stupid statement. This isn’t much of a home. The cops are corrupt, more so than I’m willing to admit. “Yeah. I do to, but … my family is here.” Silver Shoe looked out the window and back at me.

She frowned, speaking softly, “Runner, what family?” Me and my mother. Just the two of us. She really doesn’t need me around, but this place is starting to get cramped even more so than it already is. “I’ve got my mother and father and we spend more than half our time together yelling at each other. Only time we stop is to have an end of the week cook out.” The small grin that I previously had on my face slowly morphed into a frown.

She was right. My mother wasn’t bad at being a mother, but when you spend every day going back and forth with her it just bears down on you. We don’t have much in common either. I swear the only thread connecting me to her is my father, and possibly her love for helping people. Two threads! Yeah the list is getting longer!

Silver Shoe looked down at the railing shaking her head a little. She looked back at Oak Tree’s door and tapped her hoof against the window. “I just … I’m tired of this place. Runner, I want to go see the world with my own two eyes. Every day in here it’s go here, do this job, go home, sleep, wake up, go here, do this job, go home and sleep.” I deadpanned. “Okay, we also take things that don’t belong to cops, but still!” That’s more like it. I take a small amount of pride in stealing from those that deserve it. Although, she was right about one thing. If you’re born in a District your life is predictable. Do your job and go home until you die. No retirement. Just work.

I swear a District is nothing more than a way for the cops to turn a profit. Using it's population to crank out magic not sweating labor conditions in the slightest. There is no rest because it's their time were wasting, their bits were costing. The day you're born in here you jump on the Cheif's boat, which means don't rock it. Everything you have is the cops property, no matter how hard you work for it.

I sat on my haunches and looked down the hallway. No pony around to hear this. Good! Silver Shoe exhaled slowly and sat down in front of me with her magenta colored eyes staring into my dark leafy green eyes. “I want you to think about it. For me.” Last time I did something for you I got my flank shot at. She nudged her head at the staircase. “Come on. The cookout’s starting at my place!”

*** ***

Street lamps began lighting up the streets the deeper we got into the District. Several cops looked at us while we turned left around a building. I could feel my insides shaking as if they were still looking at us. Silver Shoe looked up at the pink bubble. “You know my sister's the reason why that’s up there. Once upon a time, a pegasus named Showering Stones flew all the way up those great big walls and fought her way over.” I remember that story from when I was foal. Wait. Sister?

“You have a sister?”

Silver Shoe nodded. I could see a small grin trying to hide, but it didn’t do a good job of it. “I did. She sent a letter once, but after that she went off the grid. First thing I’m going to do when I leave is find her.” I could hear several ponies mumbling behind us. I tried focusing on their conversation but couldn’t make out a word. I put my hoof against Silver Shoe and shook my head. She stopped talking.

Another rule about living in a District is to always keep to yourself. The second a cop catches word of a pony trying to leave … well … things end badly. I won’t be like those three ponies. We turned into an alleyway. Once I was positive no pony had followed us I spoke up. “We have no idea what’s out there. All we know is what our books have told us. If everything written in them is true, well I’d say we have a month minimum.” Silver Shoe stopped.

She looked at me and shook her head. “You’re forgetting one crucial fact, we have some pony on the outside waiting for us.” We do? I doubt we’d find a needle in a large haystack like Equestria. I hate to be that stallion, but those are some very terrible odds. I should know I suck at gambling. I nickered. “Look, I’m leaving tonight. Just promise me you’ll give it some thought.”

I’ll … think about it.

Her horn lit up and a postcard floated out in front of my eyes.

Silver Shoe, I hope you’re doing well. Life’s been anything but predictable for me since I left. I had to leave the last town for certain reasons. You’ll understand why I left one day, but until then be a good filly. Love, Showering Stones.

*** ***

The smell of freshly grilled hay filled my nose. I love that smell! Good food. Silver Shoe’s mother set another batch of hay burgers down, probably the last one for a while since the food supplies coming in from the outside world were getting noticeably shorter … and missing a lot of our favorite food. Like hay burgers! Silver Shoe leaned closer to my ear, “Meet me at Oak Tree’s apartment tonight. Don’t let any pony follow you. Trust me you don’t want to be around here when I break the news to my parents.” I turned to her, but thought better of saying anything.

Silver Shoe’s mother set another plate of food down while a few neighbors galloped into the back yard. “What are you two whispering about over there?”  This is the one thing I actually like about this place. Silver Shoe’s father invited every pony to get some food. So long as you respected the person making the food.

Silver shook her head, “About the Mustang sitting in Runner’s garage.” Her poker face was a stone. Oak Tree’s number one rule when gambling was to always have your poker face on. Silver Shoe turned to me, “Get that thing fixed.” She could lie her way through more worst-case-scenarios than I could think of and I can think of a lot. I can’t lie like that. Seriously, can’t lie to save my life sometimes. I can avoid being shot at so long as I don’t speak. Which … still tends to happen a lot. My horn lit up. I levitated over two burgers and got up.

“I hate to eat and run, but I’m needed back at my house.” I gave Silver’s mother a hug and shook her father’s hoof before galloping down the driveway.

My house, or rather my mother’s house, is only a short trot down the road. I’ve never had to worry about some pony trying to rob me either. I think that’s mostly on the account that I can run from any situation, didn’t know that about myself until Silver Shoe’s plans always ended in me getting my ass shot at. Over. And. Over. Again. And. Again. Which also includes our last job which was stealing some ammo from the armory. Why am I friends with her again? Oh, right she’s the only real friend I have here. The other foals my age have dreams of being cops and most of them are earning badges now. Pigs.

I blinked and came face to face with the fence that stretched around one of the few houses in the District. Most of these had been torn down to make way for larger apartment buildings. Ugh, they’re eye sores. Every single one of them. I prefer small homes like this. My mother looked up at me and whistled. “You awake over there?” I smiled and nodded. One of the burgers floated over to her and gently set itself down on the windowsill.

“Can we talk?” I trotted past her nudging my head at the house. My mother looked around and shrugged. She followed me into our small yet cozy home. It really wasn’t much. Just a small two bedroom home with a small living room and kitchen. First thing I did was open our cabinet and spark some wires together to kick our generator on. Best way to save money is to use your own generator. Mine runs on magic once it starts up with a simple spark.

I took a seat at the small table in front of the kitchen counter, but could only stare at the wall. Exhale slowly. Deep breath. My mother shut the door behind her and leaned against the counter. “You going to tell me what’s up or just keep starring at the wall?” I closed my eyes for a second.

I sucked in a small amount of air, “I’m leaving District Twelve. Tonight.” My eyes fell towards the table.

The room went silent.

My mother blinked slowly with a nod of disbelief. She left the counter and sat down in front of me. “Is this your decision or Silver Shoe’s?” I looked up from the table and could see my mother starring at my eyes. Squinting my eyes a bit I could see my reflection in her eyes. Was this my decision? Was it? Maybe. I mean I’ve thought about leaving. Turning my back on the seemingly endless wall that stretched up.

Yes.

It was my decision.

“Yeah, it’s my decision. And Silver Shoe and I are a team, where ever she goes, I’m going with her.” We stared at each other. No. She starred at me and I starred at my reflection. Any of the looks my mother gave me always got me to rethink any decision I made. As if the decision I made was the wrong one. “Besides, it’s better to go out there then wait here and pray that the cops don’t shoot us.”

She sighed, “Just come back when you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” The chair under my mother screeched while she stood up. I won? Holy crap if I had known it just took a simple starring contest I could have gotten away with a lot more shit. “You really are your father’s child.” She looked at a family portrait, back when I was a small foal. My mother pulled out a six pack from the fridge. She popped the cap off the first bottle and started drinking. At least once a week she did that even if the taste was flat dull. I swear a pony could get a better taste from a wagon wheel. "When you come to your senses, that's if you somehow make it a week out there, I'll be waiting here. Bring me some beer on your way back."

Just like my mother. She always has to get the last word in an argument. Always.

I got up from my chair and moved around the table. Pushed open the door to my garage, yes mine, my father always said that when he died I could have everything inside of my garage. A quick walk down the small wood stairs was all it took to come face to face with a tarp covering a long metal span. I ripped the tarp off. A long stainless steel wingspan stretched from the edge of my Mustang’s frame. It might be in crappy condition, but I’m going to fly this beast one day. I slid underneath the frame and put my back against the groove. My back hoof slid against the ground until it rested on a pedal. “I wish I could finish this beast,” but that’ll have to be some other time. Maybe if these walls are ever taken down. My magic pulled open a cabinet. Several ammo boxes floated out and found themselves a nice home inside of my saddle bags.

A creak at the door made me look over my shoulder. My mother didn’t look at me, instead she looked at the Mustang I had helped my father with ever since I was a foal. She took a chug from her bottle and let out a heavy sigh. “I forgot to mention, one of your friends is here. He said something about staying in your room until you got here.”

Friend? A stallion.

I don’t have any friends like that.

I slowly walked up the stairs and gave my mother a hug. She pulled the door shut behind me. Saddle bags, check. Pistol, check. Gas mask, check. Double check list, check. My mother walked past me, taking down on the couch with a rather somber look on her face. All she could stare at was a picture of us as a family. As much as I wanted to concern myself with that only priority, I couldn’t. My hooves guided me up the staircase straight up to my room. The door gently swung shut and I took a look around. Empty.

I looked around a corner noticing the foldout staircase to the attic hanging open. My eyes grew wide. Papers rustled around inside the attic while I crept up the ladder. I poked my head up through the opening. A stallion dressed in a blue uniform was sitting at my fold out tables. I climbed up and cleared my throat. “Hey, that’s my stuff.” The stallion slowly spun around in my chair with pictures in his hooves. Pictures that we both knew would get me and Silver Shoe in trouble. Before any major mission, we took pictures of our targets. I kept them stashed up here, because no pony usually checks the attic.

The pony looked straight at my eyes. My eyes drifted down to the stallions badge, 'Chief of District Police' was printed along the gold plate. His eyes went back down at the pictures. They were the last location me and Silver Shoe had ripped off just a couple days ago. “There’s an old saying. A selfish stallion is a thief. Are you a selfish stallion?” The chief moved some of the evidence away. I opened my mouth to say something, but said nothing.

The chief put his gun against the table. Even in the dark I could see a slight shining pole close to his shoulder. He had one of those kinds of pistols. Best type the District had to offer. With a good jolt from his shoulder he could fire a round in the blink of an eye. “You'll have to excuse me, I don't have an donuts, pig." No sense in trying to lie my way our. That was perhaps a trait I enjoyed about myself. If I couldn't lie out of a situation then there was only one option. It kept things simple and straight forward. "As for your saying, I've got one of my own. Opportunity makes a thief, and you gave us plenty. If not us then some pony else would have done it.” The Chief nodded. His eyes went back to the evidence. My horn lit up.

The table in front of him flew back send Chief into a filing cabinet.

I turned around and jumped down the hole. Gunshots rang in my ear while wood chips filleted towards me. Pain burned through my leg just before I landed on the ground, scrambling through the door while my magic pulled it shut behind me. Down the stairs I went around the corner into the kitchen. “You didn’t know anything about this,” I shouted accusingly to my mother while she opened another bottle. My hooves did their best to carry me out the door with a bullet wound the Chief had managed to land on me. I flung the front door open looking to use the alleyways for cover.

*** ***

I peeked out Oak Tree’s window and could see Silver Shoe running into the apartment complex. It was nice seeing both of them. Oak Tree and Silver Shoe. After the fracas I went through with the Chief I’d rather get going as soon as possible. Speaking of the Chief, he’s now the reason my leg has a rag wrapped around it. Just before I got here I took a short cut past Silver Shoe’s house. I couldn’t forget the words that I had overheard Silver Shoe’s dad say. He said to her ‘Silver Shoe, no matter where you go just remember you are always welcome back to this house,’ I almost want to know what he told Showering Stones. On second thought, if she’s the reason there’s a protection spell over us then I’d rather not know.

The door creaked open and Silver Shoe slipped around it. Oak Tree sat up with his eyes half open, “Lock the open door!” Nothing scares ponies more than a half asleep goat that has no idea what he’s talking about. Silver Shoe chuckled shaking her head. My horn lit up and I closed the blinds to the windows around us.

Knock. Knock. Knock!

Silver Shoe turn faced the door. “You ready?” I nodded. Carefully, Shoe approached the door in order to get a peak at the person outside. She took a step back looking at me.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“They know,” I shrugged not knowing what else to say.

Silver Shoe slowly nodded her head as if to take in the situation. Her telekinesis shoved the bookcase away from its position in front our escape tunnel. I galloped over to it and jumped down into the darkness. “Alright, I’m,” OOF!

The wind in me escaped like a balloon popping. I looked up at Silver Shoe and could see she wasn’t sorry about landing on top of me. Darkness flooded over us as the bookcase moved back into place. A loud crack caught our attention. Voices were mumbling back and forth. We both looked around. Our horns lit up and moved some crates into a stack until it blocked the entire entrance. Silver Shoe rolled off me cracking her legs in the process. “You know we should have burned that evidence in your attic. Think your mother will be alright?” I nodded. My mother had nothing to do with that.

We galloped through the tunnels for what felt like hours. I suppose that should have been expected since this was our going to be our last time using these tunnels to escape. After what felt like another hour we reached the wooden plank blocking our way. Silver Shoe jumped up using a crate to push herself up against the plank. “On three.” I pressed myself against the plank.

“Three!”

We lifted the plank off of the hole and rolled out from under it letting it fall back into place. I started breathing in hard pats while I watched Silver Shoe float out our map of the tunnels. I followed her over to a few bushes listening to the leaves rustle against each other. “If we ever come back here, we’ll just grab the map from here.” She hid it in a box. Right, like we’re really coming back here. For once in my life I actually felt like I was doing the right thing. I hope our parents will be okay without us.

I turned and faced the wide open world of Equestria. My eyes were lying to me. There was no way we were standing outside these walls with the intent of leaving. I looked at Silver Shoe and took in a deep breathe. “Goodbye eyesore.” I chuckled with Silver Shoe before we took off running down the first road we found.