Adventures in Apple-achia

by Cold Cuts the batpony

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character, Adventure
Length: 4889

Crackshot will have his revenge.

A few years have past since Crackshot left the crew and he has gained a few new skills, all the while unraveling his old gang. Now only the formidable Dirty Dan remains and a few lackeys. Well Crackshot be able to defeat him and complete his life's mission?

Published 2015-09-29 02:20:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-09-29 02:20:03 UTC

Late night.

Author's Note

This was when I first really got into the fandom and didn't know much about Equestrian geography. I might go back and fix it all later.

Late night.

It was late one night when I landed in this little saloon in the Shenandoah valley, a real seedy looking joint called the Dew Drop inn.

The barkeep was half asleep and there weren’t no-one else in the room. He asked what I’d have, and I asked him what was cheap. He gave me kind of a sour look and pulled a bottle from under the counter. I took a swig and grimaced, it was cheap all right. He asked me where I was from and I simply responded, “Around,” and asked if there was a room. He led me upstairs to the back corner, again cheap. I collapsed onto the rickety rope and straw bed and fell into an exhausted stupor.

I was aroused by a creaking in the floorboards, not unusual in an old motel, but these were the slow, deliberate steps of somepony not wanting to be heard. I didn’t move a muscle, but I tightened my grip on the buck knife I always have beneath my pillow.

The handle in my door jiggled and I heard the scrape of the lock. Someone entered the room and I felt their presence lean over me. That’s when I bucked their hooves out from under them and had the knife to their throat before they hit the floor. It was the barkeep.

“What in Celestia’s name do ya think you're doing?!” I hollered. I let him go.

“There’s a gentlecolt at the front desk asking for you,” he glowered, rubbing his throat. Something about the way he spat out “gentlecolt” gave me the willies.

I looked out the window but saw nothing, except for the wan light of early morning.

“What’d he look like,” I demanded as the old stallion got to his feet.

“He was a brown unicorn in a long grey coat, now if you’ll excuse me,” with that he left.

Horse-clods, I swore, how’d he find me here? I threw on my hat and picked up my rifle case. The old window was nailed shut. I dropped a few bits on the floor and kicked the window out. With that out of the way I leapt from the sill, only to meet a water barrel in mid air. It split on my head before I could react and i crashed to the ground two stories below.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The brown unicorn gloated from the boardwalk, “if it isn’t Crackshot, the longest shot in the west,” he sidled up to me, “Here’s the thing though, you ain’t in the west no more,” he said his voice sinister. His horn glowed with magic, I didn’t wait to see what would happen. I leapt up and took to the air as fast as I could kicking him up side the head as I took off. I saw the flash of magic and heard him swear, but whatever it was must have missed me.

I took off towards the mountain, my speed fueled by adrenaline and a need to escape. Eventually that wore off and I felt the pain in my left wing joint, likely from the crash. I landed in a twisted, knotted oak tree and drifted into fitful sleep, as Celestia continued to raise the sun over the land.

Dynamite Dust

It was midday when I awoke to the smell of burning wood and boiling coffee. I whipped my head around to see a fire, well made and smokeless, with a pot of coffee on it. Next to the fire was an earth pony in a battered hat and sweat stained duster.

"Up and attum sunshine, coffee’s ready," he said ignoring the rifle bore trained on his skull, "that was quite a stunt you pulled last night, not many folks can escape from Dirty Dan that narrowly. Watched the whole thing from the next room."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Some call me Smithers, some call me call Det. Folks what know me call me Dusty."

I let the rifle relax a little, “and what business do you have with me?”

"Well seems you and I have a common enemy in Mr. Dan. See it was actually me that he was after last night, I just paid off the barkeep to throw you to him instead, thought he might like that fancy piece of yours." My brow furrowed, "Don’t get in a toot over it, it was just chance that you two had a history together, a chance that worked in my favor." Dusty poured the coffee, "Are you gonna come down from there or what?" He said looking up at me.

I eased myself from the limb I had been straddling, the stiffness in my wing screaming for attention. When I reached the ground, Dusty placed a cup in front of me, "so what’s the plan?" he inquired."What do you mean?" I grunted into my cup."Seems as though you two had something at one point and now he wants something back."

"And I fail to see how this concerns you," I said, scowling, the coffee tasted like dust.

"Simply put, it’s a matter of common interest, I want him gone, you want him gone, enemies of enemies and all that nonsense."

I pondered for a moment, it would be nice to have Dan off my tail and to have an ally, a luxury I hadn’t afforded in awhile.

"So what exactly is your history with him anyway?" Dusty asked, "I heard him call you something back there, but I didn’t hear what."

"He called me the Longest Shot in the West," I replied, "that’s my talent, I make long shots." I reached down and rubbed my rifle, "This is a Shiloh Sharps, 45-70. I can reach out and knock the whiskers off your chin from 300 yards and I could probably do it without drawing blood at 400, and I can group my shots in the diameter of one bit at 500. Farther than that and there’s no power left behind the slug."

Dusty let out a long low whistle, "That’s something alright, so I suppose you’d cover for him and his crew while they did a job, am I wrong?"

"No."

"Then what ticked him off?"

"We were working a train job, and the cargo fell out of the car at the designated point. But none of the rest of the crew got off with it, I waited for a day and no one showed up, so I took it," I took it an oil stained cloth and began to polish my rifle, "He showed up a month later and wanted his cut. I told him it was gone. I didn’t have it no more."

"And did you?" Dusty inquired chewing on the end of a straw.

"No!" I paused in my work, "I may not be a saint but I’m honest," I set back to work, "I gave it to my parents. They need it. Though as far as Dan knows, they’re dead," I paused again, "and as far as they know I am." It was quiet a moment.

"Well I don’t mean to interrupt your sob story, it’s quite a tear jerker, I assure you," there was no conviction in his voice as he made that statement, "but exactly how much was this ‘cargo’ worth?"

"10,000 bits," I said nonchalantly, knowing the reaction it would illicit.

"Pffffftt!" Coffee sprayed everywhere, undoing my cleaning job. "10,000! And you just gave it away. No saint indeed…"

"I didn’t say I gave it all away," I glowered as I wiped down the barrel again, "just most of it, the rest went to paying off old gambling debts which is why I took up with Dan to begin with."

"You had gambling debts?" He asked amused.

"Do you see a playing card on this flank?" I shot back, "besides, what do you do anyways?"

"Little ole me?" Dusty pouted with mock innocence. He pulled aside the edge of his duster to reveal a stick of dynamite branded on his flank, "Why I’m just a simple blasting pony for Money Bags Mining Corp." He said with a wicked grin. The look in his eye sent a chill down my spine but it passed.

"I can see why Dan would want the likes of you around," I grunted, "why use surgical precision, when you can just blow it all to tartarus?"

"Now, now," Dusty chuckled rocking back on his hindquarters, "no need to make it personal like."

I put my rifle away, "Regardless of whether it's personal, we are still sitting on square one. What does Dan even want with you?"

"Well, remember you and your cargo? Well one time Dan shorted me on my cut so I added a few little presents to his stockpile, and they kinda scattered it around in little smoldering pieces," he said with a wicked grin.

"Fair enough," I replied, "but before we can do anything, I need to get my wing looked at." The joint still ached with a dull throb, "I know a place to get it looked at."

With that we smothered the fire and gathered our respective satchels. I eyed Dusty's a little leery of its contents. Dusty caught my gaze.

"Don't you fret your pretty little head, ain't nothing gonna pop without my say so," he chuckled with that trademark wicked grin. I harrumphed and we moved on our way.

Sweet Pickle

We made our way through the woods and gradually up the mountain. It was difficult being ground bound for a couple of reasons. The first being the incessant ache in my wing, and second being the incessant ache in my head, caused by the incessant jaw flapping of Dynamite Dust. This was his full name as he mentioned multiple times, it seemed that Dusty had six stories to tell, but could not seem to tell the complete story at any one time. He would start one and skip off to another beginning a third before finally coming back to the wrong part of the first. It was unbearable, but he was an ally, my only ally.

"So where are we aheaded anyhows?" Dusty asked during a brief pause in his rambling.

"To an herbalist. I was headed there already before I ran into Dan, but for a different reason," I replied with a sidelong glance, "now I need her to patch me up too."

"Is that so," Dusty pondered a moment, a moment of rare silence, "And what were these other reasons?"

"To gather herbs," I responded matter of factly.

We arrived in a clearing against the mountain side. "We're here."

"We're where, there's nothing here?" Dusty looked around in bewilderment.

"Welcome to the abode of Mr. and Mrs. Pickle," Dusty still looked confused and was thankfully silent.

We walked for a few minutes further into the clearing. To the untrained eye it looked wild and unnaturally over grown, but to those who knew where to look they could see the well kept beds of wild edibles, medicinal herbs, and and some fragrant flowering varieties simply for aesthetics, there was an almost tangible peace in the air. I couldn't help but let my eyes stray to a particular patch of more sinister looking plants.

There in the rock face was the low opening of a cavern. "Ho the seedtender!" I belted out, breaking the still air and causing Dusty to jump.

"Ho the long shot!" Came the deep baritone reply off to our right. A dappled green stallion with straw colored mane and a woven grass hat emerged from the treeline. "It's been a long time since we've seen you around these parts," said the old horse jovially, "and I see you've brought a friend." His expression turned dark, "he isn't one of your alleged coworkers is he?"

"No," I replied, "Just a traveling companion. No need to worry Dill."

"I'm injured," Dusty said in mock affront. Nobody paid him any heed.

"Is sweet around? I need her help."

Dill looked around, "I think she's in the cave, come on in."

We followed the stallion down a narrow crevice to an open room, well lit and cozy. Dry plants lined the wall closest to a fireplace nestled into a crack. Shelves with crockery and corked bottles of mysterious fluids stood against most any would be open wall space and a vast reed mat covered the floor beneath a wrought iron candelabra, also draped with bundles of drying plants.

At a table to the side sat an orange pony with a green mane. A bandana kept the bangs from her face and a pair of glasses perched precariously on the end of her nose. She was busy sorting and bundling more herbs, rejects were tossed to the hungry fire its flames licking out to reach those not quite in qrasp.

"Sweet, we have company," the mare looked up startled.

"Oh Crackshot! Its been such a long time! Whatever are you doing here?" Her voice was musical and soothing.

"I need your help Sweet," I said walking over, "I hurt my wing."

She stood up and began to inspect it.

"What about me?" Dusty interjected, "What'm I supposed to do?"

I looked up, "Hey Dill, remember how you used to say you always wanted another cave to store your brews? I think Dusty here can help you."

"Is that so?" Dill said. They turned towards each other and ambled off down another corridor chatting exuberantly.

Sweet returned her attention to my wing, "Now honey, what happened this time?" She gave me a stern look and I shrank under her gaze.

"I jumped out a window and got hit with a rain barrel..." I murmured, barely audible.

"You did what! This doesn't have anything to do with Dirty Dan does it?" The small mare, normally so gentle, began to tower over me.

"Yes, but no, it's not my fault!" I exclaimed, cowering as she reached for a long and painful looking rod.

"Well you can tell me all about it in explicit detail while I patch you up," I winced as she prodded my tender joint and reached past the stick for a roll of gauze.

We all stood at the entrance of the cavern.

"Do you have everything you came for?" Sweet inquired, smiling with Dill standing next to her. I hugged them both.

"Yes ma'am, and thank you for your help." We turned and started on our way.

"So what did you get from her?" Dusty spoke up, he smelled of dust and sulfur.

"A little something to help us out against Dan, its called Hornbane. It nullifies a unicorn's magic in the right dosage."

"And in the wrong dosage?"

My expression turned dark, "It strips them of it. Permanently."

Planning Again

Dusty and I returned to the small town where we, almost, met, and to the Dew Drop inn. The barkeep gave me his signature sour look but didn't say anything beyond taking our orders.

"So what are we s'posed to do with this hornbane of yours? Is a unicorn supposed to eat it or what?" Dusty inquired pulling a long stem pipe from his coat. My nose wrankled as he lit the tobacco.

"Any which way works," I replied, "eat it, drink it, inject it. My plan is to shoot him with a bullet infused with it. My own form of revenge..." I trailed off into the low murmur of the dining room.

Dusty noticed my silence and let me brood a moment. He stamped down on his pipe stem, "You never did explain what quarrel you have with him beyond wantin' him off your tail."

I looked up, "No I haven't, and I don't intend to, beyond that he brought out the darkest side of me. Its something that scares even me an I don't want to face anymore."

Dusty frowned at me, long enough his pipe went out, "Have it your way then," He relit his pipe, "but if your plan was to just shoot him, why haven't you done it before now?"

"Its not that I haven't tried," I shrugged, "but Dan has an ability that few ponies do. Are you familiar with Ponyville's Pinkie Pie?"

Dusty smiled broadly, "You could say that."

I didn't want to know that story, "Anyways, she is the most famous for it, her 'Pinkie sense'. Its a form of clairvoyance. Dan is distantly related to the Pies an he has the talent. It's given him the ability to sense anything I've sent his way. Always at the last second, but always in time to side step it."

"So what's gonna make this time so different?" Dusty asked, bewildered.

"Well," I took a long draught of my beer an turned to look the pony in the eye, "you are." I began to explain the plan I had concocted over the past few days.

It was quite late by the time I finished explaining. The dining room had mostly cleared out and empty mugs and full ash trays covered the table between us.

"So basically, you want me to rig so many explosions that Dan is overwhelmed by his 'danger sense' and won't be able to pick your bullet out from the crowd?" Dusty still looked confused.

I sighed, exasperated, "That's exactly it. The hard parts will be covering a large enough area that he can't escape and luring him in without him knowing too soon."

Dusty chewed on the stem of his long since cold pipe. "If there is no one around the detonator then there's no chance of it going off," the pony mused, "so as long as its ready, but no one's around. . . then there's no danger."

I was shocked beyond words, those were the most intelligent sounds Dusty had ever made.

"Well that settles that I suppose," I downed the last dregs of my beer, "now we just needs to set the trap and draw in our prey."

Happy Endings?

Blood dripped from my brow, blurring my vision. I galloped frantically down the street and dodged behind the corner of a general store. Panting, I took the precious moment to rest. Peeking around the corner I could see Dan and his two lackeys checking potential hiding places on their way down the street.

I brought my rifle to bear and blew the kneecap out of lackey one, he fell to the ground screaming. Not waiting any longer, I took off again, desperately trying to make my way to the pecan grove, where Dusty was hopefully waiting.

"C'mere boy! I got somethin' for ya!" Dan called out, "Somethin' I shoulda gave ya long ago!"

Preferring to not find out what this was, I kept moving. I could easily slip him and get away, but I needed to keep drawing him on. That was the hard part, keeping him close enough to still follow me, but far enough he wouldn't catch on.

I made it to the edge of town. Now a wide open field of oats stood between me and the grove. Waiting a moment, I listened. They were close. I took to the air, flying low over the field with an exaggerated limp. Landing behind the cover of the first row of trees just as Dan and company plowed into the field, I swung my rifle up and fired four successive shots. The first found its mark in flunky's shoulder and the next three, aimed at Dan, caught nothing but air and a few wisps of Dan's mane. Now it was just me and him.

I wiped the blood and sweat from my eyes once more and began to search for Dusty in the labyrinth of trees. I stopped to listen, becoming hyper-aware. In the matter of milliseconds, I saw the faint impressions of hoofprints, the churned earth at the base of several trees, the thin wires running from them, and the direction in which they all ran, like a spider's web. I wove my way through the trees towards the focal point.

FWIP!

Bark exploded from a point on the tree next to my head. I ducked behind another tree, chambering a fresh round in my rifle. Tracing the trajectory of the shot, I located its source, and cursed.

"Dusty! Its me! What the buck are you doing with that peashooter?" I hollered stepping out.

"Crackshot? You scared me," the other pony said, emerging from his hiding place, "I was just finishing tying everything in when I heard gunshots."

"Is it ready?" I asked looking around warily, I hadn't heard from Dan in a while.

Dusty held up a single wire, "This is the last one and it'll be ready to blow."

I nodded, "Hopefully we won't have to. Where is the center?" It was almost time to end it all.

"Hundred yards due east of here, there's a scriggly little tree that I rayed it all around and the dynamite extends for three hundred yards in every direction from it," his jaw set, "the detonator is on the edge of the grove, I'll be safe if I have to blow it, but what about you?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll take care of myself. Just get that finished and get into place," I stood watch as he twisted the final connection then headed north. It was time for me to find Dan again.

Loading my poisoned bullets, I trotted towards the tree that Dusty had described and flitted into the air to hover above it.

"Dirty Dan! I'm calling you out! Let's finish this! Here and now!" My voice echoed in the unnatural stillness. I heard something rustling to my right. Dan emerged from the trees. My heart stopped. He had Dusty hostage in front of him.

The unicorn smirked, "You wanna finish this, let's finish this." He threw the limp and bloody pony to the ground where he lay groaning.

"So what was your big plan? Use yourself as bait and blow me up?" Dan sneered, "I thought you didn't kill anymore. But wait, that's what he was for," he kicked the fetal Dusty, "push your dirty work off on someone else, just like me." My brow furrowed. Dusty groaned and twitched on the ground, rapid and repetitive.

"You came to be a real thorn in my side Long Shot," Dan went on, circling the clearing, "even now I have a hard time believing that a single pony was able to tear apart everything I built." Dusty's convulsions continued, "that wasn't at all a nice thing you did to Brawn." Suddenly I realized what Dusty was doing. Scraped in the dirt was a faint "X" with a single wire running from it. Smart boy.

I landed, "You took everything I had and made me who I am first Dan." I sidled towards the x, keeping my attention on Dan, "I can't believe you're surprised."

The unicorn spat, "It was me that saved you from Wildcard and his crew! You should be thankful!"

I had made it to the x, "And I am, but maybe next time you'll be more careful on what you teach your protégé." I kicked through the dirt and felt my hoof connect with something solid. The device scittered across the ground right into Dusty's waiting grasp. Dan's coat stood on end.

"What did you do?" The fear in his voice was palpable.

"The entire grove is rigged to blow in a quarter mile in every direction," Dusty coughed from the ground, "You're bucked."

Dan turned to run first one way then the other. "Make it stop!" He cried, "It's too much! Too much!"

I raised my rifle and took aim on the quivering pony. I inhaled deeply an pulled the trigger. The slug creased down his flank, leaving a long shallow cut.

Dan stared in bewilderment before falling to the ground, convulsing. The spasms lasted a few minutes and the unicorn foamed at the mouth. At last he was still.

"What did you do?" He panted, "I can't sense anything. Where's my magic?"

I reached into my vest and pulled out the dry stem and leaf of the Hornbane plant. "Do you know what this is?"

"No. Noooo!" He waled, jumping to his feet intent on sticking me with his now useless horn. I was to fast. I clubbed him with the butt of my rifle and he fell again unconscious.

"It's done," Dusty said, rising unsteadily to his feet.

"It is," I said, helping him up. Together, we made our way from the grove back to the town.

As we reached the town there wasa great explosion behind us and the pecan grove was flattened.

"I guess he took the coward's way out," Dusty stated.

"I s'pose so," I agreed looking on.

"My trees!" Another voice cut in. We both turned to see a cream colored mare with a nut brown mane, staring on in horror as her pecan grove burned.

We put our heads down and tried to limp into town as inconspicuously as possible.

Found Out

It had been a long and arduous week. Dusty and i had had to simultaneously gather the supplies all the while avoiding Dan as he chased us all around the valley. We had the all the dynamite we needed, and I had cast my specialty slugs and laced them with hornbane. The final ingredients we needed were location and bait.

"We've been chased all up and down the valley, and I'm sick of it," Dusty groaned, collapsing on the bar of the dinghy little inn. "When are we gonna get this done?"

I had to agree, I was tired of running. I plucked a crumpled cigar from inside my vest, I hated it, but the stress had been getting to me and I'd recently taken them up again.

"Just a few more days. We may have to split up for a bit while you rig the trap and I draw Dan off." I held a match to the end of my cigar and puffed I into life. I sighed.

Dusty's head thumped down on the counter, "Wonderferrff."

We ordered a round of beers and some fried potatoes. After our meal we were led upstairs to the room we had rented. There was an awkward pause as we realized, there was only one bed. A small one at that.

"Bru-hu-hem!" I cleared my throat, "We'll take watches," I moved towards a chair by the window, "I'll take the first one." Sitting down, I relit the stump of my cigar. Intently, I stared out the window at the street, the reflection of the cherry was remarkably bright in my eyes. I was startled a moment by a deep rumble that started behind me. Dusty was a horrendous snorer.

Pondering a moment I reflected on how Dusty and I had grown to be good friends in our past week of trials. Once you got past the incessant babble, he was a likeable fellow. He was a few years younger than I, about the same age as my own brother. I frowned, my brother. His memory instantly soured my mood. I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Dusty had been my brother, things would be different now.

Dismissing the thought, I returned my gaze to the window and choked, eyes wide. Dirty Dan stood in the street looking in the window of the saloon. How did he catch up so fast? His horn glowed with magic and he turned to face our hotel. He was tracking something, an object. I looked around frantically. There, in Dusty's bag, something glowed with the same aura.

"Dusty! Wake up!" I hissed between my teeth as I leapt across the room.

The pony sat bolt upright, "What is it?"

"Dan is tracking something in your bag! Help me find it!". I had already strewn half the contents across the floor. Then I found the lump, sewn into the bag wall were five gold coins. "What are these?!"

Dusty looked sheepish, "I was keeping them for a rainy day," He mumbled. I swallowed the sensation of betrayal, he had more than proved himself.

"No time!" I was practically shouting now, "The pecan grove two towns over. Set up there. I'll take these," I brandished the coins, "and draw him off. Three days, that's all I can promise."

Discouraged, Dusty nodded. I jerked his head up and looked him in the eye, "Now is not the time for a pity party. If it wasn't this, then it would have been something else." I let go of his chin and rushed out the door, not waiting to see his reaction.

I ran down the hall and onto a second story balcony. Without a second thought, I leapt to the sky. There I was met by a great wooden cask. Deja-bucking-vu, I thought as it struck my head. This time however, I had braced myself and I plowed through it. Ears ringing, I continued on, I could hear Dan swearing behind me. I guess this made me the bait. I could only hope that Dan wanted me more than my partner.