RAINBOW DASHby Sunshine dashChaptersChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 1The funny thing about facing imminent death is that it really snaps everything else into perspective. Take right now, for instance. Run! Come on, run! You know you can do it. I gulped deep lungfuls of air. My brain was on hyper overdrive. I was racing for my life. My one goal was to escape. Nothing else mattered. My arms being scratched to ribbons by a briar I'd run trough? No biggie. My bare feet hitting every sharp rock, rough root, pointed stick? Not a problem. My lungs aching for air? I could deal. As long as I could put much distance as possible between me and the Shadowbolts. Yeah, Shadowbolts: half-human, half-wolves, usually armed, always bloodthirsty. Right now they were after me. See? That snaps everything into perspective. Run. You're faster than they are. You can outrun everyone. I've never been this far from the school before. I was totally lost. Still, my arms pumped by my sides, my feet crashed through the underbrush, my eyes scanned anxiously through the half-light. I could outrun them. I could find a clearing with enough space for me to - Oh, no. Oh, no.The unearthly baying of bloodhounds on the scent wailed through the trees and I felt sick. I could outrun men - all of us could, even Fluttershy and she's only six. But none of us could outrun a big dog. Dogs, dogs, go away, let me live another day. They were getting closer. Dim light filtered in through the woods in front of me - a clearing?Please, please......a clearing could save me. I burst through the trees, chest heaving, a thin sheen of cold sweat on my skin. Yes! No - oh, no! I skidded to a halt, my arms waving, my feet backpedaling in the rocky dirt. It wasn't a clearing. In front of me was a cliff, a sheer face of rock that dropped to an unseeable floor hundreds of feet below. In back of me were woods filled with drooling, bloodhounds and psycho Shadowbolts with guns. Both options stank. They dogs were yelping excitedly - they'd found their prey:moi. I looked over the deadly drop. There was no choice, really. If you were me, You'd have done the same thing. I closed my eyes, held out my arms . . . and let myself fall over the edge of the cliff. The Shadowbolts screamed angrily, the dogs barked hysterically, then all I could hear was the the sound of air rushing past me. It was so dang peaceful, for a second. I smiled. Then, taking a deep breath, I unfurled my wings as hard and fast as I could. Thirteen feet across, pale cyan with the ends looking like they were dipped in rainbow and some freckly dark blue spots, they caught the air, and I was yanked upward, hard as if a parachute had just opened.Yow! Note to self : No sudden unfurling. Wincing, I pushed downward with all my strength, then pulled my wings up. Oh, my god, I wasflying -just like I'd always dreamed. The cliff floor, draped in shadow, receded past me. I laughed and surged upward, feeling the pull of my muscles, the air whistling through my secondary feathers, the breeze drying the sweat on my face. I soared up past the cliff edge, past the startled hounds and the furious Shadowbolts. One of then, hairy-faced, fangs dripping, raised his gun, A red dot of light appeared on my torn nightgown.Not today, you jerk.I thought, veering sharply west so the sun would be in his hate- crazed eyes. I'm not going to die today. Chapter 2I bolted upright in bed, gasping, my hand over my heart. I couldn't help checking my nightgown. No red laser dot. No bullet holes. I fell back on my bed, limp with relief. Geez, I hated that dream. It was always the same: running away from the school, being chased by Shadowbolts, me falling off a cliff, then suddenlywhoosh,wings, flying, escaping. I always woke up feeling a second away from death. Note to self: Give subconscious a pep talk re: better dreams. It was chilly, but I forced myself out of my cozy bed. I drew on clean sweats - amazingly, Fleetfoot had put the laundry away. Everyone else was still asleep: I could have a few minutes of peace and quiet, get a jump on the day. I glanced out the hall windows on the way to the kitchen. I loved this view: the morning sunlight breaking over the crest of the mountains, the clear sky, the deep shadows, the fact that I could see no sign of any other people. We were high on a mountain, safe, just me and my family. Our house was shaped like a letter E turned on it's side. The bars or the E were cantilevered on stilts out over a steep canyon, so if I looked out the window, I felt like I was floating. On an "cool" scale from one to ten, this house was an easy fifteen. Here, my family and I could be ourselves. Here, we could live free. I meanliterallyfree, as in, not incages. Long story, more on that later. And of course here's the best part: no grown-ups. When we first moved here, Wind Rider had taken care of us, like a dad. He'd saved us. None of us had parents, but Wind had come to close as possible. Two years ago, he disappeared. I knew he was dead, we all did, but we didn't talk about it. Now we were on our own. Yep, no one telling us what to do, what to eat, when to go to bed. Well, except me, I'm the oldest, so I try to keep things running as best as I can. It's a hard, thankless job, but someone has to do it. We don't go to school, either, thank god for the Internet, because we wouldn't knownothin'.But no schools, no doctors, no social workers knocking on our door. It's simple: If no one knows about us,we stay alive. I was rustling around for food in the kitchen when I heard some sleepy shuffling behind me. "Mornin', Rainbow." Chapter 3``` “Morning, Rapid,” I sad as the heavy-lidded eight years old slumped at the table. I rubbed his back and dropped a kiss on his head. He’d been Rapidfire ever since he was a baby. What can I say? That child has something funky with his digestive system. A word to the wise: stay upwind. Rapidfire blinked up at me, his gorgeous blue eyes round and trusting. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked, sitting up. His fine red hair stuck up all over the place reminding me of a fledgling’s downy feathers. “Um. It’s a surprise,” I said since I had no idea. “I’ll pour juice,” Rapidfire offered, and my heart melted. He was such a sweet, sweet kid, and so was his little sister. He and six-year-old Fluttershy were the only blood-related siblings among us, but we were all family anyway. Soon Spitfire, tall and tan, slouched into the kitchen. Eyes closed, she fell onto our beat-up couch with perfect aim. The only time she has trouble being blind is when one of us forgets and moves the furniture or something. “Hey, Spit, rise, and shine, I said. “Bite me”, she replied sleepily. “Fine,” I said. “Miss breakfast.” I was looking in the fridge with naive hope - maybe the food fairies had come- when the back of my neck prickled. I straightened quickly and spun around. “Will you quit that?” I said. Soarin always appeared silently like that, out of nowhere, like a dark shadow come to life. He regarded me calmly, dressed and alert. His dark, overlong hair brushed back. He was four months younger than me but already four inches taller. “Quit what?”, he asked calmly. “Breathing?” I rolled my eyes. “You know what” With a grunt, Spitfire staggered upright. “I’ll make eggs,” she announced. I guess if I was more of a fembot, it would bother me that a blind guy six months younger than I am, could cook better than me. But I’m not. So it didn’t. I surveyed the kitchen. Breakfast was well underway. “Soarin? You set up the table. I’ll go get Fleetfoot and Fluttershy.” The two girls shared the last small bedroom. I pushed the door open to find eleven-year-old Fleetfoot asleep, tangled up in her covers. She was barely recognizable with her mouth shut, I thought wryly. When she was awake, we call it the Fleet Channel: all Fleetfoot, all the time. “Hey, sweetie; up and at ‘em,” I said, gently shaking her shoulder, “Breakfast in ten.” Fleetfoot blinked, her light blue eyes struggling to focus on me. “Wha?” she mumbled. “Another day,” I said. “Get up and face it”. Groaning, Fleetfoot levered herself in a crumpled but technically upright position. Across the room, a thin curtain concealed one corner. Fluttershy always liked small cozy places. Her bed, tucked behind the curtain, was like a nest - full of stuffed animals, books, most of her clothes. I smiled and pulled the curtain back. “Hey, you’re already dressed,” I said, leaning over to hug her. “Hi, Rainbow,” Fluttershy said, tugging her pink curls out of her collar “Can you do my buttons?” “Yep.” I turned her around and started doing her up. I never told the others, but I just loved, loved, loved, Fluttershy. Maybe because I’ve been taking care if her practically since she was a baby. Maybe because she was incredibly sweet and loving herself. “Maybe because I’m like your little girl,” said Fluttershy, turning around to look at me. “But, don’t worry, Rainbow. I won’t tell anybody. Besides, I love you best too. She threw her skinny arms around me and planted a somewhat sticky kiss on my cheek. I hugged her back, hard. Oh, yeah - there’s another special thing about Fluttershy. She can read minds. ``` Chapter 4"I want to go pick strawberries today," Fluttershy said firmly, scooping up a forkful of scrambled eggs. "They're ripe now." "Okay, Fluttershy, I'll go with you," said Rapidfire. Just then he let one of his unfortunate occurrences and giggles. "Oh, jeez, Rapid," I said dissapprovingly. "Gas....mask!" Spitfire choked out, grasping her neck and pretending to asphyxiate. "I'mdone," Soarin said, getting up quickly and taking his plate to the sink. "Sorry," Rapidfire said automatically, but he kept eating. "Yeah, Fluttershy," said Fleetfoot. "I think that thefresh airwould do us all good. I'll go too." "We'll all go," I said. Outside, it was beautiful, clear, cloudless, with the real heat of May. We carried our buckets and baskets as Fluttershy led us to a huge patch of wild strawberries. She held my hand. "If you make cake, I can make strawberry shortcakes," she said happily. "Yeah, that'll be the day, when Rainbow makes a cake," I heard Spitfire say. "I'll make it Fluttershy." I whirled. "Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed. "Okay, I'm not a fabulous cook but I can still kick your butt, and don't you forget it!" Spitfire was laughing, holding up her hands in denial. Fleetfoot was trying not to laugh, even Soarin was grinning, and Rapidfire looked ...... mischievous. "Was thatyou?" I asked Rapidfire. He grinned and shrugged, trying not to look too pleased with himself. Rapidfire had been about three when I figured he could mimic just about any sound or voice. I'd lost count of how many times Spitfire and Soarin had almost come to blows over stuff Rapidfire had said in their voices. It was a dark gift and he wielded it happily. Next to me, Fluttershy froze and screamed. Startled, I stared down at her, and in the next second, humans with wolfish muzzles, huge canines, and reddish, glinting eyes dropped out of the sky like spiders. Shadowbolts! And it wasn't a dream.
Chapter 1The funny thing about facing imminent death is that it really snaps everything else into perspective. Take right now, for instance. Run! Come on, run! You know you can do it. I gulped deep lungfuls of air. My brain was on hyper overdrive. I was racing for my life. My one goal was to escape. Nothing else mattered. My arms being scratched to ribbons by a briar I'd run trough? No biggie. My bare feet hitting every sharp rock, rough root, pointed stick? Not a problem. My lungs aching for air? I could deal. As long as I could put much distance as possible between me and the Shadowbolts. Yeah, Shadowbolts: half-human, half-wolves, usually armed, always bloodthirsty. Right now they were after me. See? That snaps everything into perspective. Run. You're faster than they are. You can outrun everyone. I've never been this far from the school before. I was totally lost. Still, my arms pumped by my sides, my feet crashed through the underbrush, my eyes scanned anxiously through the half-light. I could outrun them. I could find a clearing with enough space for me to - Oh, no. Oh, no.The unearthly baying of bloodhounds on the scent wailed through the trees and I felt sick. I could outrun men - all of us could, even Fluttershy and she's only six. But none of us could outrun a big dog. Dogs, dogs, go away, let me live another day. They were getting closer. Dim light filtered in through the woods in front of me - a clearing?Please, please......a clearing could save me. I burst through the trees, chest heaving, a thin sheen of cold sweat on my skin. Yes! No - oh, no! I skidded to a halt, my arms waving, my feet backpedaling in the rocky dirt. It wasn't a clearing. In front of me was a cliff, a sheer face of rock that dropped to an unseeable floor hundreds of feet below. In back of me were woods filled with drooling, bloodhounds and psycho Shadowbolts with guns. Both options stank. They dogs were yelping excitedly - they'd found their prey:moi. I looked over the deadly drop. There was no choice, really. If you were me, You'd have done the same thing. I closed my eyes, held out my arms . . . and let myself fall over the edge of the cliff. The Shadowbolts screamed angrily, the dogs barked hysterically, then all I could hear was the the sound of air rushing past me. It was so dang peaceful, for a second. I smiled. Then, taking a deep breath, I unfurled my wings as hard and fast as I could. Thirteen feet across, pale cyan with the ends looking like they were dipped in rainbow and some freckly dark blue spots, they caught the air, and I was yanked upward, hard as if a parachute had just opened.Yow! Note to self : No sudden unfurling. Wincing, I pushed downward with all my strength, then pulled my wings up. Oh, my god, I wasflying -just like I'd always dreamed. The cliff floor, draped in shadow, receded past me. I laughed and surged upward, feeling the pull of my muscles, the air whistling through my secondary feathers, the breeze drying the sweat on my face. I soared up past the cliff edge, past the startled hounds and the furious Shadowbolts. One of then, hairy-faced, fangs dripping, raised his gun, A red dot of light appeared on my torn nightgown.Not today, you jerk.I thought, veering sharply west so the sun would be in his hate- crazed eyes. I'm not going to die today.
Chapter 2I bolted upright in bed, gasping, my hand over my heart. I couldn't help checking my nightgown. No red laser dot. No bullet holes. I fell back on my bed, limp with relief. Geez, I hated that dream. It was always the same: running away from the school, being chased by Shadowbolts, me falling off a cliff, then suddenlywhoosh,wings, flying, escaping. I always woke up feeling a second away from death. Note to self: Give subconscious a pep talk re: better dreams. It was chilly, but I forced myself out of my cozy bed. I drew on clean sweats - amazingly, Fleetfoot had put the laundry away. Everyone else was still asleep: I could have a few minutes of peace and quiet, get a jump on the day. I glanced out the hall windows on the way to the kitchen. I loved this view: the morning sunlight breaking over the crest of the mountains, the clear sky, the deep shadows, the fact that I could see no sign of any other people. We were high on a mountain, safe, just me and my family. Our house was shaped like a letter E turned on it's side. The bars or the E were cantilevered on stilts out over a steep canyon, so if I looked out the window, I felt like I was floating. On an "cool" scale from one to ten, this house was an easy fifteen. Here, my family and I could be ourselves. Here, we could live free. I meanliterallyfree, as in, not incages. Long story, more on that later. And of course here's the best part: no grown-ups. When we first moved here, Wind Rider had taken care of us, like a dad. He'd saved us. None of us had parents, but Wind had come to close as possible. Two years ago, he disappeared. I knew he was dead, we all did, but we didn't talk about it. Now we were on our own. Yep, no one telling us what to do, what to eat, when to go to bed. Well, except me, I'm the oldest, so I try to keep things running as best as I can. It's a hard, thankless job, but someone has to do it. We don't go to school, either, thank god for the Internet, because we wouldn't knownothin'.But no schools, no doctors, no social workers knocking on our door. It's simple: If no one knows about us,we stay alive. I was rustling around for food in the kitchen when I heard some sleepy shuffling behind me. "Mornin', Rainbow."
Chapter 3``` “Morning, Rapid,” I sad as the heavy-lidded eight years old slumped at the table. I rubbed his back and dropped a kiss on his head. He’d been Rapidfire ever since he was a baby. What can I say? That child has something funky with his digestive system. A word to the wise: stay upwind. Rapidfire blinked up at me, his gorgeous blue eyes round and trusting. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked, sitting up. His fine red hair stuck up all over the place reminding me of a fledgling’s downy feathers. “Um. It’s a surprise,” I said since I had no idea. “I’ll pour juice,” Rapidfire offered, and my heart melted. He was such a sweet, sweet kid, and so was his little sister. He and six-year-old Fluttershy were the only blood-related siblings among us, but we were all family anyway. Soon Spitfire, tall and tan, slouched into the kitchen. Eyes closed, she fell onto our beat-up couch with perfect aim. The only time she has trouble being blind is when one of us forgets and moves the furniture or something. “Hey, Spit, rise, and shine, I said. “Bite me”, she replied sleepily. “Fine,” I said. “Miss breakfast.” I was looking in the fridge with naive hope - maybe the food fairies had come- when the back of my neck prickled. I straightened quickly and spun around. “Will you quit that?” I said. Soarin always appeared silently like that, out of nowhere, like a dark shadow come to life. He regarded me calmly, dressed and alert. His dark, overlong hair brushed back. He was four months younger than me but already four inches taller. “Quit what?”, he asked calmly. “Breathing?” I rolled my eyes. “You know what” With a grunt, Spitfire staggered upright. “I’ll make eggs,” she announced. I guess if I was more of a fembot, it would bother me that a blind guy six months younger than I am, could cook better than me. But I’m not. So it didn’t. I surveyed the kitchen. Breakfast was well underway. “Soarin? You set up the table. I’ll go get Fleetfoot and Fluttershy.” The two girls shared the last small bedroom. I pushed the door open to find eleven-year-old Fleetfoot asleep, tangled up in her covers. She was barely recognizable with her mouth shut, I thought wryly. When she was awake, we call it the Fleet Channel: all Fleetfoot, all the time. “Hey, sweetie; up and at ‘em,” I said, gently shaking her shoulder, “Breakfast in ten.” Fleetfoot blinked, her light blue eyes struggling to focus on me. “Wha?” she mumbled. “Another day,” I said. “Get up and face it”. Groaning, Fleetfoot levered herself in a crumpled but technically upright position. Across the room, a thin curtain concealed one corner. Fluttershy always liked small cozy places. Her bed, tucked behind the curtain, was like a nest - full of stuffed animals, books, most of her clothes. I smiled and pulled the curtain back. “Hey, you’re already dressed,” I said, leaning over to hug her. “Hi, Rainbow,” Fluttershy said, tugging her pink curls out of her collar “Can you do my buttons?” “Yep.” I turned her around and started doing her up. I never told the others, but I just loved, loved, loved, Fluttershy. Maybe because I’ve been taking care if her practically since she was a baby. Maybe because she was incredibly sweet and loving herself. “Maybe because I’m like your little girl,” said Fluttershy, turning around to look at me. “But, don’t worry, Rainbow. I won’t tell anybody. Besides, I love you best too. She threw her skinny arms around me and planted a somewhat sticky kiss on my cheek. I hugged her back, hard. Oh, yeah - there’s another special thing about Fluttershy. She can read minds. ```
Chapter 4"I want to go pick strawberries today," Fluttershy said firmly, scooping up a forkful of scrambled eggs. "They're ripe now." "Okay, Fluttershy, I'll go with you," said Rapidfire. Just then he let one of his unfortunate occurrences and giggles. "Oh, jeez, Rapid," I said dissapprovingly. "Gas....mask!" Spitfire choked out, grasping her neck and pretending to asphyxiate. "I'mdone," Soarin said, getting up quickly and taking his plate to the sink. "Sorry," Rapidfire said automatically, but he kept eating. "Yeah, Fluttershy," said Fleetfoot. "I think that thefresh airwould do us all good. I'll go too." "We'll all go," I said. Outside, it was beautiful, clear, cloudless, with the real heat of May. We carried our buckets and baskets as Fluttershy led us to a huge patch of wild strawberries. She held my hand. "If you make cake, I can make strawberry shortcakes," she said happily. "Yeah, that'll be the day, when Rainbow makes a cake," I heard Spitfire say. "I'll make it Fluttershy." I whirled. "Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed. "Okay, I'm not a fabulous cook but I can still kick your butt, and don't you forget it!" Spitfire was laughing, holding up her hands in denial. Fleetfoot was trying not to laugh, even Soarin was grinning, and Rapidfire looked ...... mischievous. "Was thatyou?" I asked Rapidfire. He grinned and shrugged, trying not to look too pleased with himself. Rapidfire had been about three when I figured he could mimic just about any sound or voice. I'd lost count of how many times Spitfire and Soarin had almost come to blows over stuff Rapidfire had said in their voices. It was a dark gift and he wielded it happily. Next to me, Fluttershy froze and screamed. Startled, I stared down at her, and in the next second, humans with wolfish muzzles, huge canines, and reddish, glinting eyes dropped out of the sky like spiders. Shadowbolts! And it wasn't a dream.
