Money Is Everything

The drastic change between the desert and the dark forest was immediately felt by both of us. In place of where birds were previously chirping in our ears, was now silence.

"Dodge Junction, huh. Isn't that the cherry place?"

Steel nods, confirming my question. "Yeah, one of the biggest cherry exports in Equestria."

"We hopping on the nearest coach or train, or enjoying the scenery?"

"Ya know, we are in a desert.." Steel, ignoring the question, gave me a look. "You ever had peyote?"

"Peyote? Fuck you, Steel." I laughed, "I'll pass, but you can go right ahead."

He shook his head. "Nah, I was just pulling your leg. We can take the train over to Appleoosa, though; there's something I'd like to take care of while we're out here."

"We're not killing ol' Bush are we?"

Steel chuckled. "I'm thinking about it, but no. It depends on whether or not what I'm looking for is still there, but I'll need your help when we get there."

It took about an hour of trotting before we reached Dodge Junction, and then we were on the train for about an hour and a half longer. Looking up slightly at the brightly colored sky, I could tell it was late afternoon.

"Come on," Steel tapped my shoulder. "If he's not home yet, he will be soon, and we don't want to cross paths."

He left at a steady pace, almost jogging, leaving me no choice but to follow behind him without another word..
Instead of heading straight to his home, Steel went to where the old stallion, whom he used to deliver food to, once lived. There, we left our things with the sons of the old stallion; apparently they were dumb as a bag of rocks because they didn't bat an eye with the gold, but were super excited to be paid off with a coin or two each, before we left.

We went around the side of his old house cautiously, peeking through a few windows to make sure his step-father wasn't home, and snuck in through the backdoor.

Rather than saying anything, Steel nodded me over to follow him and went towards a little side door in the dining room, which lead into a rinky-dink cellar.

"I had no idea that this was even here–"

"Then again," Steel interrupted in a whisper. "You never spent much time in the house. Help me out here, smash these jars against the brick wall in the back."

"Why didn't you just let the authorities take care of it?" I asked him, while picking up a jar from the shelf.

"I want to force him to go sober, not get imprisoned."

I turned with a nod and chucked it against the back wall. "I assume we should make this quick, in case he comes back?"

"That would probably be a good idea, don't you think?" He grabbed a jar and tossed it to the back, letting it shatter with a satisfying sound. Before either of them knew it, they were grabbing jars left and right and were just throwing them; throwing them against this brick wall, with all of their contents sliding or splashing onto the dirt cellar floor.

Soon, there was nothing left on the shelves.

"If this is everything you needed to take care of, how about we go get ourselves a real drink before we leave."

"Sounds good to me." Steel wiped the sweat from his brow and trotted with me up the cellar stairs, out the back door, and over to the town saloon.

It was a busy Saturday and ponies were seated at tables with their friends left and right, barely any space was left at the counter, so Steel and I waited until two seats were available before we ordered a shot each.

Everything was going smoothly, even the drinks, until about three shots in. Ponies had began to get up from their seats and walk out of the saloon; following them with my gaze, I could see they were gathering in the street and looking in the same direction.

Steel and I looked at each other, paid our tab, and followed the other ponies to see what the fuss was all about.

Black smoke was billowing from the direction of Steel's old house, leaving an unsettling dark stain on the fiery colors of the sky.

Nothing went through our minds, just action; ponies casually moved out of the way to let us pass, upon realizing we were trying to get to the scene. There was a big gap where it seemed like nopony was in town, until we got to the building itself and found a small crowd at the front gate.

As we passed by them, we overheard some words being exchanged and called out.

One voice said that, "The deputies are cowards!"

"The Sheriff still hasn't come out yet!" Another pony had exclaimed, clearly worried.

Two deputies were at the gate trying to calm down the few concerned ponies, and Steel casually shouldered past them before galloping into the building.

"You can't go in there!" One of the deputies shouts out, but doesn't move an inch; his legs shook nervously.

"Steel!" I shouted out his name, and looked down at my hooves for a second with grit teeth.

Then, something came over me and I charged after him.

I couldn't see shit inside, and the fumes had me occasionally coughing from inhaling too much. Despite this, I pushed on and began looking with squinted eyes.

"Steel! Sheriff?" I called, and a faint response answered.

"Over here!"

My body acted before my brain could, and I forced my way through the burning corridor toward the dining room.

Steel was struggling to get to the cellar door, as part of the ceiling had collapsed in front of it. He was using the back end of a hammer to hack away parts of the top of the door, holding it in his mouth and standing partially on charcoaled wood.

After an agonizing minute of Steel hacking and me pulling out pieces of the door, he spit out the hammer and began to help me pull apart the door.

On the other side, was the Sheriff and Steel's step-father.

"Quick, he's injured, get him out of here first; please!" The Sheriff helped Bush up, leaving Steel and I to pull him out.

Half of his face was burned, and his mane was painfully singed to the scalp. Knowing that Steel was stronger, and could help the Sheriff out on his own, I lead Bush to the backdoor and shoulder-bashed it down, falling with it.

The middle-aged, injured stallion helped me up off the ground as best he could; when he noticed my bandage was caught on the broken door, he tore it with his teeth.

Just as I was getting up, a loud fit of paired coughing came from behind me. Steel was helping the Sheriff to walk, leading him with a cannon wrapped around his neck, and they both wheezed as we made our way around the house.

Cheers of encouragement and joy hit us full force and a doctor rushed up to us, along with civilians offering water... and camera flashes from a reporter.