Chapters Peregrination to the Promised Land
Chapter One- Winter Wake Up
“44-Control to Department Eight, Department Eight is on the air with a signal Ten, automobile accident with injuries, Palisades Interstate Parkway southbound exit ramp, exit Ten. Time out zero-six-thirteen. K-double-E-398 operator two-oh-seven.”
Joe Velloti’s eyes snapped open at the first tones came over the fire radio prior to the announcement. He heard the entire dispatch, coming out of bed and having his pants on by the time the announcement concluded. As the fire department officer living closest to the fire house, a mere block and a half away, he was used to being the first one up and there when a call came in during the off hours, especially on weekends, his job at Lederle Laboratories being nine to six weekdays. The fire whistle, a repurposed World War Two air raid siren, sent up its howl as he sat down to put on his boots, his mind racing some, thinking ahead to the call, wondering how soon it would be before he would be able to send the first truck out on the call.
A white flash happened then, and the warm May early morning suddenly changed, the dawn light going dark, the warmth changing suddenly to biting cold, and the fire whistle stopping suddenly. He blinked at the sudden darkness, becoming aware that he felt different. Odd. Clumsy.
He fell forward off the bed, his nose hitting the cold carpet of the floor, his pants sliding down and off him. He threw his arms out to catch himself to no avail, his hands not working right, thumping oddly on the carpet. “What in the flying fuck is going on?” he squawked as he tried to get up. His body fought his efforts, and he gave up momentarily, sprawling on the floor by his bed.
Joe forced his mind to slow down and get a grip on his situation. It was warmish before, and now it was very cold. A chill wind blew in from his bedroom window overlooking Main Street. Slowly, he went to get up, first going to his hands and knees. Except for the wind, all was quiet in his apartment. No hum of fans, no sound from his radio, which he kept tuned to WCBS Newsradio Eighty-Eight at night, because total silence was anathema to him, no clunks from his old refrigerator. Something was WRONG here.
Joe crawled to his window, aiming to close it. His first discovery was the drifted and banked leaves and frozen carpet he encountered on his way to the window. His hand encountered the screen that should have been in place under a pile of leaves. Getting to the window, he reached up to close it, finding first he could not get a good grip on the sash before reaching up a bit higher and bringing the window down with a squeak, cutting off the flow of cold air.
He then looked OUT the third-story window, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. In the pale moonlight, he could see what he took to be at least a foot of snow covering the street, untouched by plows or tire marks, just a smooth unbroken blanket of white going over, through and beyond the parking lot of the Ambulance Brew House across the street. “This ain’t fucking right…” he muttered as he looked at the wintry scene.
A reflection off the window glass caught his attention. As he looked, the reflection resolved into the image of a horse’s face, a brick-red horse face with a white blaze going down the nose. Glittering golden-yellow eyes looked out of the glass at him. Joe let out a yelp and fell to the floor, into the pile of accumulated leaves and snow, rolling onto his back. “That can’t be me… I’M me, and nothing else!” he gasped in shock as his mind processed what he saw.
An ache on his back prompted Joe to roll off the pile onto his hands and knees, shaking some at the irritation. Something on his back luffed out, dislodging some leaves and sticks before settling down again. He looked again at the window and saw that there were wings on the little horse’s back, red and white mottled wings. Joe screamed in shock before passing out in the pile of leaves and frozen carpet.
When Joe came back to awareness, the sun had risen, bright light filling the bedroom, reflecting off the unbroken blanket of snow outside. The first thing he did was shake and shiver, because it was COLD in the old apartment, the building having been erected some hundred years or so before. The second thing he noticed was that he was hungry, and he had to, if you would pardon the expression, piss like a race horse. A look at himself showed that he was still a little reddish horse with red and white wings, a golden-yellow mane and tail, and grey hooves. “Well, fuck… now I’m a horse… a pegasus, if the myths are right. I’ll see if I can fly later- I have more important things to do first,” he muttered to himself as he finished his self-examination. One thing he noticed was a picture on his flanks, back on his butt. A picture of an open claw on a line, talons open as if to grab something and lift, in a pale gray color, contrasting with his red coat. “Wonder what the hell that means…” he said to himself as he made his way to the small bathroom in the old apartment, where he climbed into the tub to piss out what was inside. A quick check showed the water was off, which he did not find surprising.
Once what was full was emptied, Joe went to find one thing he was sure would tell him what the date is- his watch. As he hoped, it told him the date and time. “Nine-fifteen a.m., Friday February nineteenth? Holy Rip van Winkle, Batman!” he exclaimed in surprise. “No wonder there’s snow on the ground! But, where in hell is everyone?”
He then changed his mind to something more immediate. “Screw that, what in hell am I going to eat?” Joe said, going to his kitchen. While he would not ever think of himself as a ‘doomsday prepper’, he did keep some supplies in the house, because of the not-too-frequent breakdowns in service. Supplies like twenty-five one-gallon jugs of water, preserved foods, ‘camping supplies’, and his own personalized set of fire gear, with some spares. He got that starting when he became an officer two years before, starting his climb up the ranks, beginning as third assistant Chief Chauffeur, or 8-11 as his call sign was then. Joe is currently 8-9, or First Assistant Chief Chauffeur, second-in-line of responsibility of maintaining the fire department’s rolling stock, of which there are a plenitude. Joe’s father, Valentino Velloti, is currently 8-2, or first assistant chief of the department. Val lived farther away, up on the north side of town, where he would be closer to his work, that being Town Clerk for Clarkstown, a post Val has held now for almost as long as Joe has been alive.
Joe, before trying his turnout gear, first thought of getting some food and water out of his stock. To his rather pleased surprise, he found he could use his hooves as some sort of hand, the inner portion having ‘adhesive’ qualities, so he could get a grip. His primary feather tips are capable of manipulations, like fingers, but not as accurate. After sating his hunger and thirst with water and oatmeal, his next decision was to go out and about. Digging into his closet, he found two pair of turnout boots, which to his new form came up past his knees, but were VERY floppy on him, the boots being far too big for his hooves. “Okay, plan B,” he muttered. Talking to himself has been a habit of his since he was little, his older sister Josephine not wanting anything to do with her ‘bratty little brother’, as she said a lot. Seeing as she had moved to Philadelphia with her wife a decade before, Joe really could not care less about her. Damn Eagles fan, she is.
Deciding to improvise, Joe broke out some knee socks, plastic bags and duct tape. With some contortions, he managed to insulate his hooves and seal them hopefully water tight. He loaded spare socks, bags and tape into an old backpack, along with some other supplies, and after rearing up to unlock his door, headed on out to see what was going on in his home town.
The snow was deeper than he had expected, coming up almost to his belly. “Damn… I have not seen THIS much snow in years!’ he said to himself as he decided to go to the firehouse, about a block and a half away. Going out on Main Street, he noticed all the storefronts were closed up, the only exception being that of the butcher shop next to his apartment building, which normally opened promptly at six each morning except Sunday, but one push of the door let out such a stench of decay he let the door swing shut and did, in the immortal words of J.D. Nelson from MythBusters, de-ass the area with alacrity. By the time Joe’s eyes stopped streaming, he found himself on a level with the store’s rooftop, his wingtip narrowly missing the ‘Charlie’s Market’ sign that has been there for as long as he could remember, despite the two original Charlies having left town before Joe was even born, old Johann, who took over the store, retiring when he was ten, and young Johann running the place since.
Joe grunted as he found himself soaring over the rooftops. It felt natural, comfortable, something he was born to do. “Good thing I’m not afraid of heights,” he muttered as he turned right, heading for the firehouse. Circling the roof, he could see no sign of damage, the foot or so of snow looking intact, if a little windblown in spots. More recon showed no traces of habitation, no tire marks or even foot traces in the snow.
“Okay, next stop- the Stop and Shop,” Joe told himself, pulling for a little more altitude before following Main Street north to Route Fifty-nine. About fifty feet was high enough for him.
As he flew, he had to admire just how RIGHT it felt to fly with his own wings. His mother is a private pilot, his parents divorcing when he was in high school because the local airport closed, and she wanted to keep flying while his father wanted to keep his job with the town. It was an amicable divorce, everyone in his family keeping in close touch after she moved north near Newburgh, getting a job with an aviation company there. Joe could FEEL temperature, wind speed, altitude, airspeed, barometric pressure and other weather-related sensations almost as if he was watching an airplane’s instrument panel. Not wanting to dump his pack, he refrained from doing any stunt flying.
Soon, Joe was circling the Stop and Shop, a few snow-covered mounds in the parking lot denoting the presence of cars. Heading himself below the roof line of the supermarket, he circled the building. That was when he spotted signs of vandalism- a back door had been punched out and was open, snow and leaves having blown in. Curious, he landed with a minimum of fuss and disturbance, meaning he landed on his hooves and not on his nose.
Walking in to the store, he did not smell much decay, just some traces, nothing overpowering, like the butcher shop. Inside, he could tell other horses had been in there, hoofprints being visible in many of the aisles. The produce, dairy and meat sections have been cleared out, bare shelves and cases being evident instead of piles of rotting food. “So, I’m not alone…” he mused as he looked about.
The place was not stripped bare, but there were places that were, as if whoever was here took what he or she wanted and left what they did not want. Joe selected some canned fruit that was still present, plus several boxes of oatmeal and a jar of peanuts, stowing them in his pack, along with several bottles of water, two of which he managed to open and drink, easing his thirst. He was glad of the lack of chlorine taste which his water had, having added a drop of bleach to each gallon at home to preserve the water for storage.
Feeling better (and less hungry), Joe walked around the big store, making note of what was there. Up at the front of the store, he found a message written on several torn open paper bags, set so it could only be read from inside.
FIRST RAIDED STORE DEC 5, 2015
CLEANED PLACE UP
15 WEST PALMER AVENUE
BEWARE OF CULTISTS
LAST SHOPPED followed by a series of dates, every four or five days, the last one being two days before, according to his watch.
Joe snorted some. “West Palmer Avenue is not that far away. Might as well go look.”
He got back outside and took off, circling around to the front of the store and headed north, over a deserted snow-covered Route 59, heading to the second cross street and taking a left. Again, the street was snow-covered, deserted, pristine. But, house number fifteen did show a sign of occupancy, a chimney trailing a very faint plume of smoke, as well as having no snow on it, unlike the other houses on the street that had snow-covered chimneys.
Joe landed out on the street and made his way to the front door, making no effort to hide his approach. His red fur did stand out against the white snow. He knocked on the door and waited patiently. After a moment’s pause, he knocked again. “I saw your note!” he called out.
Joe heard a window slide open, to his left and down. “Have you seen anyone else?” he heard, a girl’s voice. Looking, Joe saw a black and gray horse head sticking out of the window, with a pinkish horn jutting from its brow.
“No, I haven’t. I woke up sometime last night, then fell back asleep until the sun rose. I’m Joe Velloti, of the fire department. Who are you?” he asked.
“Lindsay Taylor. You know Val Velloti?” Lindsay asked.
“He’s my father. He’s also assistant chief of the fire department,” Joe said. “Mind if I come in? It’s a bit chilly out here, and I’m in snow up to my knees.”
“Sure. Just go to the garage. I’ll open that door,” Lindsay said before closing the window, a pinkish glow surrounding said window as it slid down.
Joe made his way through the snow to the garage door, which slowly rose up, a pink glow by the handle. When it was up high enough, Joe slipped in under the door, which Lindsay let drop down with a bang. “Thanks.” he said to the girl.
Once the door closed, Lindsay hugged Joe fiercely around his neck, pressing her cheek to his. “I’ve been alone for months… you’re the first pony I know that didn’t want to take me…” she said, her voice breaking.
Joe clumsily hugged back. “Easy there… who tried to take you?” he asked, feeling her fright and relief.
“Cultists of Odeum. I heard about them on the radio first, and when they said they were looking for any pony to join them, I made sure I hid, only going out at night to raid the Stop and Shop for supplies. They’ve been quiet now for the past two weeks. They did say all were to join them…” she gasped out, trying not to weep from fright and relief.
“Well, I’m no cultist, just a dedicated fireman and chemistry technician at Lederle’s. Now that you’re no longer alone, can we go and warm up by the fire?” Joe asked.
Lindsay gathered herself visibly. “Of course, Joe. I’ll even make you some hot tea, okay?”
Joe smiled at the black and pink unicorn mare. “For a cup of anything hot, I will pledge you my loyalty… for an hour. Friendship will last a bit longer.”
Joe blinked in surprise as Lindsay fell to the garage floor, laughing like he had just told the best joke ever. He watched as the mare laughed herself nearly breathless before recovering. “Was it something I said?” he asked, perplexed.
“Joe, it’s been what, ten weeks since I showed up here, without talking to anyone! Just to have a friend again is relaxing, and you are as bent as a coat hanger…” she gasped before breaking down into laughter again.
“Who, me? I’m not bent, just twisted…” Joe told her, sounding innocent, which sent her into a fresh giggle fit.
“Coat hangers are twisted too. The wire ones at least,” Lindsay said when she stopped giggling. “Come on, I’ll put a pot on the fire. Or would you like some coffee?”
Joe paused and stared at Lindsay’s face. “Did you say ‘coffee’? I’ll take it any which way you got it!”
“Come on, let’s get warm. I’ll fill you in on what I know, which isn’t much,” Lindsay offered, leading the way into the house, which was much warmer than the garage. After filling an old camping percolator with snow and coffee grounds, she put it on a grate in the fireplace and began to talk. She told of her waking up in her bed as a black, gray and pink unicorn, of finding no one else about, and of her life scavenging what she could from the Stop and Shop.
When asked about the radio, she presented a hand-cranked ‘survival radio’ her parents had purchased when she was younger. “The radio station in Manhattan only transmits for a half an hour or so a day, generally around dinnertime, and not every day at that. I got lucky one night a week after waking up and found that station,” she explained. “There’s also another station I can hear from Toronto, but only at night. That one plays music which I don’t like, so I don’t listen to them often.”
“Might be worth listening to later, just to get a feel for it. What does the Manhattan station talk about?” Joe asked.
“Mostly about where the group of ponies have scavenged from, how many injuries they have, some sporadic contact with a place called Alexandria, how bad the dog packs are, stuff like that,” Lindsay said as she poured coffee into a mug.
“Alexandria? In Virginia?” Joe asked, taking the mug in his wing feathers and sipping carefully. The black tarlike substance was hot, and it fought all the way down. “Potent stuff…”
“I may have made it too strong. Snow melts down farther than one would think. No, someplace farther west. You need a satellite phone to call them. Too bad I don’t have one,” Lindsay said as she took another pot, aiming to fill it with snow to melt.
“I don’t either, but I know where to find some, at the firehouse. Probably dead by now, but if I can get one of the trucks up and running, I can charge them,” Joe said, putting the mug of hot tar down on the hearth.
“Think you can get a fire truck running?”
“I can try. I do maintenance checks on them, and while I’m a chemical engineer by trade, I think I know enough about the trucks to get them up and running. If all else fails, we can go to the Bardonia substation and I can crank up the old seven-fifty. One way or another, I’ll get something up.”
“I admire your confidence, Joe.”
Joe sat on the rug and looked up at Lindsay. “Hey, I can either be confident or give in to despair. Despair can wait its turn. Right now, hope rules,” he said as Lindsay put the pot full of snow on the grate.
Lindsay sat down next to Joe, leaning against him. “Many a night I cried myself to sleep, looking for the strength to wake up the next day. I always found it, but it has not been easy. Can I ask you to stick around, Joe? I don’t want to be alone again.”
Joe put a wing over Lindsay, pulling her against him. “Sounds like a plan to me. I don’t want to be alone either. How old are you, if I may ask?”
“Nineteen. I’m in my second year at RCC (Rockland Community College), studying nursing. My mom is a nurse at Good Sam, and I want to follow her…” Lindsay trailed off, sniffing some. “Will I see her again?”
Joe hugged her tighter with his wing. “Easy there… there are a lot of things we don’t know. We can hope, but let’s see if we can call this Alexandria place. Did you hear how to call them?” he asked in a calm voice, looking to settle Lindsay down.
“Yeah- just dial the operator on an Iridium phone and you’ll be put right through. That’s what they say, at least. Have not tried it yet.”
“Step one, find a phone. Step two, charge the phone. Step three, make the call. Step zero, add water to this coffee before it climbs out of the cup,” Joe said quietly, easing his wing’s grip on her.
Lindsay looked at the pot, a pink glow surrounding her horn and the pot handle, then the pot lifted off the hearth and floated to the mug, tilting to pour water in, nearly filling it. “A little sugar and stirring, and it should be palatable.”
“I’m going to have to remember how you make camper’s espresso. That was indescribable,” Joe said as a spoon and the sugar bowl lifted off the mantel and did their jobs, aided by a pink aura. “Just how do you do that?”
“Now you know why I stick to tea. Just part and parcel of being a unicorn, Joe,” Lindsay said as she leaned against the stallion’s body, the mug drifting to within reach.
Joe caught the floating mug and took a sip. Still hot, but not nearly as ferocious as before. “Much better and thank you. Now, what shall we think about doing later?”
“How about we break out the maps to find some other stores to raid? With you being able to fly, you can do more than I could do. Who knows, there could be more survivors. You CAN fly, right?” Lindsay asked playfully.
“You bet your pretty pink tail I can fly! That’s a good idea, to look around some. I don’t think there will be any storms in the next day or so, so, break out your map book! Yes, I may know the town, but having a map will be the smart thing to do. You have any two-way radios?” Joe asked, honestly enjoying Lindsay’s attention.
“Yes, I do, but we’re going to have to see if you can work them. I would normally suggest clipping a Bluetooth to your ear, but I doubt if the cell repeaters are working,” Lindsay said, but showed no signs of leaving Joe’s presence.
Joe showed no signs of getting started either. He liked the attention the pretty young mare was giving him, and, to tell the truth, he was slightly afraid of being alone again. Even though his ‘isolation’ lasted maybe a couple of hours total, he did not want to experience it again. He took another sip of the coffee and put the mug down on the hearth, using both wings to hug Lindsay to him. She let out a contented sigh and relaxed into his wing hug. “For now, let’s just reassure ourselves we are not alone.”
Author's Note
Chapter one of a new tale. Good lord, how i miss my old home town.
Peregrination to the Promised Land
Chapter Two- Long Distance Information
Joe and Lindsay enjoyed each other’s presence for an hour or so, interrupted only by an indignant merowp. “Trixie! Don’t feel insulted! I won’t leave you alone!” Lindsay said as a small tortoiseshell cat wandered out from her hiding spot, approaching the two cautiously.
“You didn’t mention you had a cat…” Joe said, looking at the approaching feline.
“I don’t. She owns me, and we both know it. I adopted her when she was just a kitten. How she survived while I was wherever, I don’t know, but since I came back, she does not like being away from me, except when I go out to the store. She’s a good girl, just possessive,” Lindsay reported.
Joe held out a wing to the cat, who sniffed at it. “Hello, Trixie. I’m Joe. Nice to meet you, little lady.”
Trixie sat down, giving Joe a stare before rubbing up against Joe’s leg. Lindsay sighed in relief. “Good, she likes you. I thought the feathers would confuse her. You should see her chase birds out in the yard.”
“Someday soon, I will. She seems to be a good girl. Can I like you, Trixie?” Joe asked, petting the cat with a wing. Trixie purred at the attention she was given before deciding she had had enough and scampered off. “Yes, I can like her.”
“She’s been my sanity check. I would not say she’s a good conversationalist, but she is very responsive. She knows when I’m feeling bad, and just cuddles up and purrs until I don’t want to cry any more. Whatever we do, wherever we go, Trixie comes with me. Part of the package.”
Joe nodded in agreement. “Part of the package. I’m willing to help her make you feel better when you feel bad, if you want,” he told her.
“Oh, I want! Please?”
It wasn’t until about one that afternoon before Joe felt Lindsay was stable enough for him to go out, first to his apartment to get a few things he would want, then to the firehouse to see about the satellite phones, and last to the Stop and Shop to pick up some additional supplies. Joe found four Iridium phones at the firehouse, in the radio room, still plugged in to their chargers, but testing showed each of them had very little residual charge remaining. Putting all the phones, a charger, and charging cables into his pack, he then started checking the trucks.
His immediate target of the trucks is the EQ truck, which not only is the most useful all-around truck, it also has a separate internal generator. He was leery of starting the main engine in the below-freezing temperatures, but the separate generator should be safer to try. If it failed, the truck itself would not be ruined.
The first thing Joe did was to open all the bay doors and back door, to assure adequate ventilation. Once that was set, he checked all he could of the generator. Checking fluid levels was not easy without hands, but his wing feathers were enough to do the job, if he took his time, which he did. Then and only then did he start the generator.
The electric starter groaned and clicked. “Figures…” he snorted before going to the manual pull cord. Bracing himself, he gave it a yank. Joe promptly lost his balance and fell, picking up a bump and a smudge on his red coat. Getting up, he shook himself and tried again. And again. And again.
It was not until the sixth yank when the generator’s motor let out a cough, a splat, and started up. “All right!” he cheered as the little motor came to life. Quickly, he set the breaker, plugged in a phone charger, and set a phone in. The charging light blinked on, denoting success. Joe promptly found a power bar, plugged it in, then dug out a fire radio charging rack, with four batteries in it. He plugged that in and let the batteries charge. While that ran, he searched the fire house some, going for spare radios. He had his own, but he wanted one for Lindsay. The walkie-talkies she had were weak and were hard to manipulate in his wings or hooves. Even the firehouse ones, he could not work well when in flight. He needed to find extension microphones which he could grip in his hoof. He found one, in the chief’s office. With only a little reluctance, he took it, checking it would fit into his radio. Lindsay could operate her radio with her aura, something Joe did not have, obviously.
While the generator ran, Joe checked out some of the other trucks, namely the two Patrol vans. One is an older van, the other a newer minibus, both used to transport firefighters to and from fire scenes. Safety rules in the past twenty years have led to needing the vans, rather than having firefighters hanging on to the tailgates of the trucks. Joe examined the Patrol van first, it being bigger in capacity, yet having a seat where with a little back-door engineering, could be modified to be driven by a little pony.
Two hours went by as Joe worked, the little generator humming away. He decided the Patrol van would be just right to drive, with some modifications. He checked over the motor and tires, not starting the van until he could replace the battery with a new one. Fortunately, there were places he could nick a battery, like at the Costco or the Target, but that would be for later. He shut down the generator before the fuel tank went dry, making a note to see about getting some more fuel soon.
Once the firehouse was locked up, Joe then flew to the Stop and Shop, going in to select some products for dinner, along with cat food for Trixie. When he was done, his pack was full, but flying proved to be no problem at all, despite the weight and bulk. Landing by Lindsay’s garage door, he knocked for entrance, which was swiftly answered.
Joe unloaded his bag in the warm room, Lindsay having fetched more firewood and built up the fire. She put on some pots of snow to melt down for cooking while Joe explained about the radios, putting fresh batteries in them as well as the phones. Lindsay turned on the main radio, to wait for the Manhattan broadcast, which generally happened around sunset.
Over a dinner of macaroni and cheese, livened up with spices, they listened to the broadcast, which lasted for about half an hour, explaining about the campsite in Central Park, finding out two more ponies had been found that day, bringing the camp population up to sixty-one. The broadcast did mention they were having problems finding enough food, having cleared out the immediate area and having to wander farther afield to find enough, the snow-filled streets making driving about risky at best, despite the lack of traffic.
As Joe wondered why they did not roam the subway system, the announcer mentioned that the subways were by turns either flooded or frozen, making travel down there even more dangerous than driving. “Well, that answers my question,” Joe said around a mouthful of macaroni.
“How about, when we’re done, we call the operator and find out about what this Alexandria place is,” Lindsay suggested.
“Plans like a sound to me, Linds. Some things you’re going to have to show me, how do you do the dishes, where do you dump the used water, and how do you take a shower here?” Joe asked.
“A shower is relatively easy, using a camp shower filled with hot water. The water may not work, but the drains do. Dish washing is done by putting a wash basin on the fire and heating it. As for dumping the water, you may have trouble doing that. My aura can handle that chore. You want to call Alexandria, or shall I?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll also watch you do the chores, so I can do them tomorrow. I like playing fair.”
“So, do I, Joe. Better karma that way.”
When dinner was done, and the dishes cleaned, Joe picked up a satphone. “Just dial the operator, right?” Joe asked.
“That’s what the radio station said.”
Not without hesitation, Joe dialed the operator. To his surprise, the phone started to ring. After seven rings, someone picked it up. “Iridium operator. This is Joe. What’s going on now?” a rather harried voice said.
“Joe, I’m Joe Velloti, of Nanuet, New York. I just came to last night, and I found another person who told me about you. If I may ask, what the hell happened to everyone?” Joe said.
“Great, another one. Hang on, let me find someone who has the time to talk. I don’t,” came over the phone before some incredibly atrocious Muzak started playing.
“Remind me to grab my phone and mp3 player tomorrow from my place. This music sucks.”
“I totally agree. We’re going to want to nick a generator from somewhere, so I can charge my iPod,” Lindsay agreed.
“We can check out Home Depot, Target and Costco tomorrow. At least we won’t have to worry about traffic nor trains anymore,” Joe muttered as the incredibly bad ‘music’ came out of the satphone speaker. “You check any of those places out yet?”
Lindsay looked embarrassed. “No, none of them. I only raided the Stop and Shop because I was hungry. I did not want to break into any place else on my own. The mere thought scared me.”
Joe put a wing around Lindsay. “It’s okay. You’re not alone now.”
“Neither are you, Joe,” Lindsay said, nuzzling Joe.
“That’s something I have to remember,” he replied, nuzzling back.
“Hello? Is anypony there?” came a young lady’s voice from the phone.
They both blinked at the voice, but Joe was the fastest to recover. “Yeah. I’m Joe Velloti, and I’m here with Lindsay Taylor. What the hell happened to the planet?” Joe asked.
“Long story short, a spell put upon the planet’s population to save us from magic radiation, turning us all into ponies. I’m Cloudy Skies. Where are you, and what are you? Pegasus, Unicorn, earth pony, or something else?”
“I’m a pegasus, and Lindsay is a unicorn. I just woke up sometime before dawn today, while Lindsay has been back since early December. We’re in a small town about twenty miles from New York City, with over a foot of snow on the ground.
“As far as I can see, we have three choices, once I can get some transport going. Go to where you are, head down to the City, or go all the way up to Toronto. For that matter, where are you, Cloudy Skies?” Joe asked.
“On maps, where we are at is called Paris, Illinois. We renamed the city ‘Alexandria’, because of the library of books we have from Equestria. Just what did you do for a living?”
“I’m a chemical engineer at a major pharmaceutical company here, while Lindsay is a second-year nursing student. I’m also a firefighter here, officer status. Any idea on where the best place for us would be to go?” Joe asked.
“That’s going to be up to you. I can give you the phone numbers for both the New York and the Toronto groups, and you can call them to decide. Here, we intend to become a center of learning, what with all the books we have. Ready to swap numbers?”
Lindsay broke out a pad of paper and a pen. Holding them in her glow, she nodded to Joe. “Ready when you are, Cloudy Skies.”
When all the phone numbers were exchanged, Cloudy Skies went on. “I have to go help Olive make dinner for everypony. Keep your phone near, and we’ll call when I have more time. You can call when you have more questions to ask, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan to me, Cloudy. We’ll keep in touch. Eight-Nine out,” Joe said as the connection ended.
“Eight-Nine?” Lindsay asked.
“My radio code number in the fire department. First Assistant Chief Chauffeur, meaning I’m one of the four officers detailed to make sure the trucks keep running. My father is Eight-Two, the first assistant chief,” Joe explained. “Since I became an officer, it’s been a habit I find hard to break when I’m on the phone or radio.”
“We all have our quirks. Now that THAT’s done with for tonight, how about we go to sleep and conserve candle light? That’s one thing we’re going to need to get, more candles and batteries. I’ll put a tub of water on the hearth and bank the fire, so we can have hot showers in the morning.”
“That’s not a bad idea, Linz. You lead, I follow, so I’ll know what to do.”
Author's Note
Okay, next step is finding out that there are other ponies out there, and they can be talked to. What's next for Joe and Lindsay (and Trixie)?
Peregrination to the Promised Land
Chapter 3- Scavenger Hunt
Both Joe and Lindsay woke up in the morning to Trixie’s mowling, demanding her food and water bowls be refilled. When that problem was handled, the two got up. Lindsay filled the shower bag with warm water from the tub on the hearth and showered while Joe built up the fire from the woodpile in the garage. When she was done, she refilled the bag and gave it to Joe, who went into the bathroom, hung the bag up on the curtain rod, and enjoyed his first shower as a pegasus. Once dried off, he spent some time working on his wings, knowing without exactly knowing HOW he knew that a good preening was essential to proper flight.
Once dried and preened, Joe came out to find breakfast waiting, warm rolls, oatmeal and tea. “Where you get the rolls?” he asked.
“I made them. I have a jar of dough start near the hearth, and every few days I make up a fresh batch of dough, which I keep in another room, to keep cool. There’s nothing like fresh bread in the morning, with butter. Thing is, I took the last of the good butter from Stop and Shop three weeks ago.”
“That’s one thing I’ll have to do, learn how to make bread. I may be Italian, but to me, there’s nothing like a good Jewish rye, piled high with roast beef,” Joe said around a hot roll.
Lindsay looked a little downcast. “Not any more, Joe,” she said with a sigh. “Ponies and meat products do NOT get along. I have heard on the radio that pegasi can have fish, but Trixie ate all the tuna we had here, and I never thought to get any more. She likes tuna.”
Joe shrugged as he sipped some tea. “I can wait. Where do you want to go first, Target or Costco?” he asked.
“Target is just up the hill. Let’s hit that first before the Costco. Let’s take the radios and phones, just in case. Let’s leave the dishes for later. I want to head out while I’m still willing,” Lindsay said with a small smile. “Besides, I want to see you fly.”
“Well then, sweet lady, grab your bags, because we are about to go shopping!” Joe said in a friendly toe, which made Lindsay laugh.
“You are a most unusual man, Joe. I have never heard of any man enjoying shopping!”
Joe struck an indignant pose, his wings held up over his body. “In case you have not noticed, little lady, I am NOT a man, I’m a pegasus! Pegasi like to shop!”
“Grab your bags and let’s go!”
Together, they put on their backpacks, Lindsay put on the boots she had made, while Joe went with his knee socks, plastic bags and duct tape booties. “I’m going to want some of those boots of yours, Linz.”
“I’ll see what I can do tonight, Joe.”
They set out, Lindsay shutting the garage door behind them. Joe moved out a few steps before taking off, circling the house some, to Lindsay’s rapt admiration. Joe did that for a minute to get his blood flowing before landing. “Shall we?” he asked.
“Surely!” Lindsay said, leading the way down West Palmer Avenue to Middletown Road.
“Don’t call me Shirley!” Joe laughed as he walked along in her path.
The snow had barely melted any, the weather remaining clear and cold, at Joe’s guess about twenty degrees. They walked down the road to Rockland Plaza, using it as a short cut to get to the hill, at the top of which was the Target.
“It’s so strange, with nobody here. Our footsteps are the only ones in the snow.” Lindsay observed as they climbed the hill.
“No doubt, plus the streets have not been plowed yet. When this happened, it was six-thirteen a.m. I had just woken up for a fire call when the flash happened,” Joe said as they made their way up the hill.
“I was asleep. Last I remember it was Friday night, I had studied for a while, then went to bed. I woke up in my bed, freezing cold. Trixie was there within a minute, meowing at me.
“Think we’ll find anything there?” she asked as they passed under the train bridge.
“I don’t see why not. I have not seen any trace of anyone around yet. Want me to fly ahead and take a look?” Joe asked.
“Yes, please. I’ll wait here out of the wind. I’ll be listening to the radio,” she said, pulling it out of her pack, making sure it was on. Joe checked to make sure of the frequency setting, got his radio set and took off.
Only a minute or so later, Joe was circling the Target. The place looked deserted, only a few cars in the lot. He flew down and landed in front of the doors, which he noticed were not locked. He tried to wiggle a hoof between the doors to pry them open, but he could not get enough leverage. With a sigh, he grabbed the extension mic of his radio. “Linz, come on up. The doors are unlocked, but stuck shut. No trace of activity. I’m by the front door.”
“Be right up,” Linz said. A few minutes later, she became visible to Joe, coming up into the parking lot.
Puffing a little, she trotted up to Joe. “What’s the issue?”
Joe showed her how he tried to open the door. Linz concentrated, her pink glow coming from her horn. Slowly, the doors slid open, letting out a musty gust of cold air. “Not as bad as Charlie’s,” Joe observed.
“Ice must have got in to the tracks. Let’s see what we can find.”
Together, they walked in to the store. The produce section looked like something from a horror movie, decayed fruits and vegetables in abundance on the racks. Mold was evident in the freezer doors, so they left them alone. “You start on groceries, I’ll see if they have a generator here. Sitting idle, they should be all right, once we find fuel,” Joe said.
“Don’t forget candles and some sort of lantern. We can do some work at night with them,” Linz reminded Joe.
“Will do,” Joe grunted as he started walking towards hardware and sporting goods. Passing the toy department, he saw several large plastic wagons on display, all assembled. That gave him an idea. Going to sporting goods, he looked for some rope or straps. While he did find some, he kept looking. In automotive, he found some ratchet straps. “Now that’s more like it!”
He took several straps with him to the wagon display. There, he managed to fashion a crude harness to wrap around his body and pull the wagon with, putting the hooks on and around the wagon’s handle. Satisfied, he hooked up a second one to the back of the first. Wagons in tow, he kept on exploring.
In sporting goods, he did find lanterns, camping stoves, dehydrated foods, and candles, along with campfire lighters and sleeping bags. Loading one of the wagons with the goods, he searched for a generator. He did find a display, but the boxes were too unwieldly for him to lift on his own. Encouraged, he went back to find Linz.
He found Linz in the grocery department, an assortment of cans in her glow. “Just what the hell have you got there, Joe?” she asked in a startled tone of voice.
“A means of hauling goods without carrying them!” Joe said with obvious pride. “I found a generator, but I can’t manage the box. Can I get some help?”
“AFTER I fix those straps. You’ll chafe yourself raw before we get home like that! Let’s find something I can use to cut and stitch with, okay?” Linz said, trying not to laugh at such a comical sight as a pegasus wrapped up in tow straps.
“Yes, Linz. Put the cans in the first wagon and I’ll take you to the crafts department.”
Once that task was completed, Joe led the way to the crafts department. Linz found some shears, heavy duty thread, and the biggest needles she could find. She told Joe to remain still while she did the cutting and stitching. Inside of an hour, the crude harness was neatened up considerably, with enough slack so that Linz could adjust the straps to fit her body, which was a bit more robust than Joe’s slighter pegasus build. “With what I’ve learned now, tonight I can make better ones. This will work until we get home,” she said when she pronounced herself done.
“Good. Let’s grab the generator, then head home. We’ll drop these off, then I want to do some more scouting. We’re going to want to get some cans of gas, and I want to scope out the Costco, my father’s apartment, and that wreck scene that woke me up,” Joe told his friend.
“Where was that, Joe?”
“Middletown Road and the P.I.P., one of the ramps. Call it morbid curiosity, but I want to check it out, for due diligence. My father’s apartment is up that way, too.”
“Okay, then. You look about while I get the house set up. I’ll see if I can make you some hot tuna casserole for lunch. Deal?” Linz said with a smile as she put the sewing supplies and strap scraps in one of the wagons.
“Deal!” They went to where the generators were kept, finding the box being just a touch too big for the wagon, but with a little creative jiggering, they got it to fit and lashed down. They filled the chinks in the wagons with more supplies before taking their leave of the Target, closing the doors behind them.
Fortunately for them, the way back to the house was mostly downhill, Lindsay having to hold back the wagons from slipping and sliding down the snowy slope of Route Fifty-nine. On the flats, Joe found he had to work hard to pull the wagons, his ‘boots’ not giving him good traction, but between the two of them, they made it home safely, with goods intact.
In the garage, Joe had himself some warm water to drink before heading out on his expedition, not without giving Lindsay a hug and a kiss before departing. His first destination was the wreck scene, which he easily located. Two cars had a rough meeting at the end of the off ramp on West Clarkstown Road. A quick search, after using his wings to blow off some of the snow, showed no bodies present, but a lot of mangled wreckage. “This would have required extrication gear. Good thing I’m trained on all the Hurst tools,” Joe said to himself after his inspection.
His next stop is his father’s apartment, a half-mile south. Checking the parking lot revealed the Chief’s car parked in its spot, and a check of the apartment showed that his father WAS home at the time of the flash, had heard the same call Joe did, and was half-dressed when the Flash happened, thanks to the disturbed-looking bedding and the collapsed pants by the bed. Joe wrote a note on a torn open paper bag with a Sharpie, letting his father know he had come back and when. Leaving the note on the kitchen table, Joe locked the place back up before heading for his last stop, the Costco.
Circling the shopping center with the Costco, once again Joe saw no signs of habitation, no smoke, no disturbed snow, no tracks. Checking at the doors found the place securely locked up, so Joe decided to check out some more shops in the area, just to see what was open.
One place he found was the Dunkin Donuts, whose doors were open. The smell of decay inside was tolerable, so he went in, to raid for several things he prized- they being coffee, sugar and creamer. Loading a bag of each in his backpack, along with stir sticks and napkins, Joe kept on checking storefronts. A check of shopping plazas west on Route Fifty-Nine all the way to Spring Valley revealed a lot of locked doors. After two hours or so, he flew back to Linz’ house.
At home, he found that Linz had kept herself busy- the generator was unboxed and set up in the garage, with an extension cord leading inside. Letting himself in, the first thing he noticed was getting pounced on by Trixie, who was either mad at his leaving or glad of his return, take your pick. He soothed the cat with a wing as he called out, “Loo-cy! I’m ho-ome!” in his best Ricky Ricardo imitation.
“About time, Ricky! You been hanging out with the band again? Fred and Ethel want us to call them! They want to speak to you!” Linz shouted from the cold stores room, which was their pantry.
Joe got out of his pack. “Which one called, Linz?” he said as she emerged from the store room.
“Manhattan. They got a call from Alexandria, and they want to talk to us. I told them you were out scouting and would be back before dinner,” Linz reported. “What did you find?”
“Not a lot,” Joe sighed before explaining his findings. “At least, I found some better coffee than that cheapie brand you have,” he concluded, pointing to his pack with a wing.
“I’ll put some water on while you call Manhattan. Deal?”
“Deal. If there are any rolls left, I’ll take some and a package of tuna fish as a schmear, with butter, please,” Joe requested as he went for the phone.
“Fifteen minutes on the rolls. Maybe a bit more. I’ll bring them all over to you, okay? Want to use the stores room for talking?”
“Good idea, Linz. Be back in a bit.” Joe picked up the phone and went to the stores room. It was cool in there, but not bad enough to warrant a blanket. Using the last number redial feature, Joe placed the call.
After a few rings, the other end picked up. “Central Park campsite, office of the Mayor. This is Fred.”
“Fred, I’m Joe Velloti, in Nanuet. Sorry I was out scouting when you called. What can we do for you?” Joe asked.
“Hello, Joe! The main thing I want to know is, want to come down and join the party? We’re camping in Central Park, at the Belvedere Castle. There’s sixty-one of us now, and we can use all the hooves we can get.”
“I know I could be there in short order but getting Lindsay down there will be one heck of a walk. I doubt we could get there in less than a day. There’s over a foot of snow up here, and without a vehicle running, travel will be slow,” Joe said honestly.
Fred hmmmed some in thought. “Tell you what, Joe. Why don’t you come down in the next day or so and see for yourself? We do have a few vehicles and generators up and running, and scavenging teams out combing Manhattan for supplies. Lindsay said you’re a pegasus who can fly. We have ten here, and a griffin, but flight is not easy for them. How did you manage to learn how to fly so fast?”
“Walking into a butcher shop that had not been entered since the flash. The stench alone was enough to make me want to de-ass the area, and the fastest way was up. I can’t say I know HOW I learned to fly, but if I don’t think about it, I don’t have a Centipede’s Dilemma.
“Let me talk with Linz today, and I’ll call you tonight with my decision. I do want to see your campsite and seeing will help me decide which way I want to go. I may have grown up here, but I doubt we could stay here on our own for very long.”
“Let me guess, now that you found her, she’s reluctant to be alone for long, right?” Fred asked.
Joe snorted gently. “That’s the truth, Fred. I can’t fault her one bit, though. I’m sure she’ll let me. What was this about cultists that came through?”
“All true, I’m afraid. They wanted us all to go with them, but we really were not fit to do much traveling, so they went on their way, with a little encouragement. I’ll tell you more when you get here. We’re going to have a lot to talk about,” Fred said.
“Okay, then. I can smell lunch cooking, so let me let you go. I’ll call back about four. How’s that?”
“Sounds good to me! I can put some details about your impending visit on the newscast tonight. We’ve got groups out in the Bronx and Brooklyn, and the radio casts are our means of letting them know what’s going on here at the Park. They may decide to bring back their scavenges just to see you.”
“Well, meeting fresh faces is always a good thing. I’ll call you back later, Fred. Have a good day!” Joe said, going to push the off switch.
“You too, Joe!” he heard before the connection broke.
Joe went back to the living area, where he found Linz working on something that smelled good, his promised rolls and schmear waiting on a paper plate nearby. “How did it go?” she asked.
“Fred wants me to come down tomorrow or the next day to look around. It should not take me more than an hour each way. I can just do what Mom called IFR flying there and back,” Joe said as he first picked up a cup of the coffee, which his nose told him was the Dunkin Donuts stuff, not the cheap stuff she had used before and taking a sip before adding sugar and creamer.
“IFR flying?” Linz asked.
“In her words, IFR means one of three things, they being Instrument Flight Rules, I Follow Roads, or in my case now, I Follow Rivers. Following the Parkway under the snow is going to be hard, but I can follow the Thruway to the river, turn right, and go to Manhattan. Finding Central Park won’t be too hard,” Joe explained as he adjusted his coffee. “The one thing I have to ask is will YOU be all right by yourself?”
Linz checked what she was mixing before slipping the pan into the bake oven. “I can manage. I won’t enjoy it, though. Now that Trixie has tuna, she’ll be happy for a while and keep me company. Just take a radio and phone with you,” she said nervously before slipping up alongside Joe, on the side away from his coffee cup.
“I don’t blame you one bit, Linz. How about I leave tomorrow morning about nine, and be back before sunset? I don’t want to fly at night, but in case I must, I’ll phone ahead. We can get some lanterns ready in case of need.”
“We can do that. Let me make you some better boots than your socks and bags tonight, so you won’t get cold feet. Also, hit up the Target and bring a pack full of food with you. Every little bit helps, right?” Linz suggested, trembling some.
Joe put his coffee cup down and gave her a hug. “I know you’re scared about me going out. If I like what I see, we can get the Patrol bus running and drive down. If not, we’ll head for Alexandria or Toronto. Much as this is home, we won’t be able to live here on our own for very long,” he said to reassure her.
The words had the desired effect, Linz stopping her shaking. “Yes, I’m scared, but I’ll manage. Now, have your lunch. You need it. I’m sure you’ll want to do more scouting before dark.”
“Best idea so far today,” Joe said, letting go of Linz and turning his attention to the thick roll, filled with butter and tuna. The tuna was very good indeed, making Joe feel a lot better after his meal.
“I’m going to take a wagon and go to Target, getting another load of goods. We can pack tonight, and you can stow tomorrow while I’m gone,” Joe said after putting his mug in the wash basin.
“Good idea. Glad you thought of it,” Linz said with a smile.
“Hey, I’m the brains, you’re the brawn around here, right?” Joe laughed as he found the harness and put it on.
“Got that right!”
Joe hitched up a wagon and trudged his way up to Target, taking his time going up the hill, following the tracks from before. At the store, he filled the wagon with assorted groceries, namely flour, canned fish, cat food, spices and catnip. He did a small detour to a gas station, looking about to see if he could get the gas out of the station’s tanks easily. Easy it would not be, even though he found the tank vent and cover. No power, no pumps, no easy withdrawal. With a sigh, he headed back home, following his tracks. At home, he did remember to call Fred and bring him up to speed on their plans, except mentioning the pack of food he would be bringing. They wanted that as a surprise. Over dinner, Joe and Linz listened to the radio broadcast, which highlighted Joe’s projected visit. That evening, they cuddled together to sleep, sharing warmth under the sleeping bag covers, Trixie working her way in as well.
Author's Note
Lay in supplies, talking to other groups, what next to do? Plus, it looks like Joe and Linz are getting close to each other, yes?
Peregrination to the Promised Land
Chapter 4- New York, New York
Joe and Linz awoke just after first light, the sunlight reflecting off the snow and into the house. Breakfast was quick but filling, and Joe was soon ready to head on out. He had his radio and phone secured on his harness, and the night before Linz had put together two packs in a sort of saddlebag arrangement, arranged so he could get about adequately even with his wings furled. Fully loaded, Joe went on his way, not without giving Linz a long kiss and Trixie a skritch between the ears.
Joe found that flying with the packs was no problem at all as he climbed, settling at about two hundred feet as he followed the Thruway to the Tappan Zee Bridge, then following the east bank of the Hudson River south. What struck Joe was that there was absolutely no sign of habitation. No traffic, no smoke, just an unbroken blanket of snow over everything. The weather had warmed some, the air temp being just below freezing at this hour.
The city was even spookier than Westchester County. Of all the times he had been to the city, there had always been other people around. Not now, though. Joe felt chills in his mane as he overflew Manhattan, feeling the creepiness settle in. It just felt WRONG to him. He regretted not bringing his phone with him, because he could have used some music about now.
Landing atop a building west of Central Park, he phoned Fred to let him know he was near. Right after hanging up, a plume of black smoke started climbing into the blue sky, marking his destination. With renewed vigor, Joe flapped off the rooftop towards the smoke.
Nearing the castle, Joe could see ponies coming outside, more ponies than he had seen at one time. Big ones, small ones, unicorns, pegasi, regular ponies, even something that looked like a zebra, gathering around a large bonfire. He could see the wings twitching on the pegasi, along with their admiring and yearning looks.
Joe landed about fifteen feet away from the assembled ponies, feeling a little apprehensive. A larger red and tan pony stepped forward, wearing a crudely stitched vest with pockets. “You must be Joe. I’m Fred Stafford, the coordinator here. Welcome to Camp Belvedere,” the pony said.
After a swallow, Joe smiled. “Hello, everyone. I’m Joe Velloti, from Nanuet, which is about twenty miles away. I talked to Fred yesterday, and he asked me down to look around,” he said, undoing the buckles from the packs, letting them fall. “I decided to bring some gifts with me. I hope you like it.”
Fred blinked some when the packs hit the snow-covered ground. “You didn’t say you were bringing anything,” he said as a unicorn’s horn lit up, undoing the buckles, revealing the foodstuffs inside.
“Just trying to be neighborly, is all,” Joe said with a smile as the packs were emptied, a line forming to bring the food inside. “Now, I heard the pegasi here don’t know how to fly yet. It’s not a matter of believing you can or not, it’s just a matter of DOING it. Your wings are not ornaments, they are there to be USED. So, use them!”
To prove his point, Joe flapped slowly, rising off the snow-covered ground. “There’s no reason to know all the whys and wherefores, just know that a pegasi’s wings are there to make you fly. I learned how when I opened the door to a butcher shop that had not been entered since May. Going up was the fastest way to de-ass the area!” he concluded with a laugh, which spread among the remaining ponies.
“It’s just that easy to do?” Fred asked. “Then, why have not the rest of the pegasi figured it out?”
“Because you folk are still thinking like a human, not like a pegasus. I didn’t even give myself the chance to say it was impossible, I just wanted to get out of range of the stench. Next thing I knew, I had just missed the store’s sign and was over the roof, pulling for altitude. Now, you pegasi, spread out some and spread your wings, all the while looking at me up here. I’m willing to bet at least one of you will come up to meet me,” Joe called down, rising to about thirty feet.
Thus encouraged, the six pegasi there all spread their wings and flapped, looking at him, not the ground. “If I can do it, YOU can do it. So, DO IT!” Joe shouted.
One after another, the pegasi slowly lifted off. “Good! Now, don’t think, just DO! There is no try, just do. Or do not. You can do, so DO!” Soon, all six were hovering in a ragged circle around Joe. “That’s the spirit! Now, slowly, back down to the ground! Don’t just stop, ease off on the power. Just slowly settle down,” Joe said while doing just that. “Watch me, not the ground! You can do it!”
All were soon back on the snow, looking about as if they did not believe what they just did. “See? It’s not impossible. Now that you know that you CAN, you have no reason not to stop doing so, improving your skill. I have a little head start, both in flying and the fact my mother is a pilot, so I have a working idea on how flight is supposed to work.”
One of the smaller pegasi, an orange and yellow female, looked at Joe. “Does it matter how it works, sir? It does, so use it, right?”
Joe grinned. “That’s right, young lady! That’s the mindset to use! It’s there, so use it!”
Fred spoke up. “Why don’t you pegasi practice flying while Joe and I talk a bit, okay?”
The largest pegasus, a black furred stallion with white wings, said, “You got it, Mister Mayor. Let us get our flight confidence up some, and that will give us more searching opportunities.”
“Sounds like a plan, George,” Fred said as George turned to the others and got them to line up before taking wing. Fred then went over to Joe. “George Wilkins is my assistant in running things. He worked down in the garment district, while I worked at WABC, as an engineer.”
“So that’s how you got the radio station up and going. You already knew how it worked,” Joe said as he followed Fred into the Castle. The Castle is a mere shell, whatever fittings that were there hastily removed, the floor a sea of sleeping bags and blankets, while over in one corner an impromptu kitchen was set up, several ponies hard at work with the food Joe had brought.
“That’s right. I figured it would be a good way to attract attention. Only problem is that I have to run matters with a bank of solar cells, and after charging all day, I can only run the studio for about half an hour before running dry. None of us are good mechanics here. Heck, we’re lucky to get a couple of cars running again. We use them to scavenge, two teams out right now, one in the Bronx, one out in Brooklyn,” Fred explained as he led Joe up a flight of steps to the tower, where he had his office.
“I’m a chemical engineer by trade, not a true mechanic. But, I am the first assistant engineer for the Nanuet Fire Department, so I can try to jigger something together. I have some ideas in mind for one of the department vans, but I have not done more than daydream yet,” Joe explained as they climbed.
“I’m sure, between all of us, we could come up with something. Now, what do you think of our arrangements here?” Fred asked.
Joe thought for a few seconds before replying. “What are your plans for spring? Are you going to plant fields here in Central Park? Are any of you farmers or gardeners?”
“Earth ponies like me are supposed to have good talents in making plants grow but before we got our act together, fall set in and we could not plant anything, so we’re forced to scavenge,” Fred told him. “We’re having to go farther and farther out to find good forage that has not been ruined by dogs or rats. We have not seen much of either recently, because of the cold, but it won’t stay this way for long. Right now, I’m leaning towards a caravan to Alexandria, just to learn how to cope.”
“I’m leaning that way, too. Either there or Toronto. Staying here isn’t in the cards for us. We need to get our asses to a place where we can grow our own food and not depend on preservatives. Problem is, I have no clue as to how to do it,” Joe admitted.
“You see the problem as clearly as I do. While we will do better together, here is just not the place to do it. But, where to go?” Fred said, almost in a despairing tone.
“Alexandria,” Joe said bluntly. “We need to learn new skills, and they are supposed to have a repository of knowledge there. So, let’s go get it.”
“We have a big job in front of us. How to prepare vehicles, how to prepare the ponies, how to find food… won’t be easy.”
“Life never is easy, Fred. Especially now. Shall we work on a plan of attack for the great bug out?”
By four that afternoon, Joe and Fred had hammered out a tentative plan of attack for going to Alexandria. Fred needed to sound out the ponies of New York City, and of course supplies had to be dug up, vehicles set up to be driven by ponies, et cetera, et cetera. Joe flew back up to Nanuet, phoning Linz before leaving Central Park.
Back home, Joe outlined the plan he and Fred had cooked up that day. “We’re going to go to Alexandria, but not until spring. We’re going to go in three groups. The scout team, which will be you, me and maybe one other, will lead the way, marking places to forage and camp. The prep team will be following us, to take a closer look at the sites we pick out, making them ready for the evac team, which will be those who choose to follow us from New York to Alexandria,” he reported.
“Why set things up like that?” Linz asked.
“Because Fred is positive not everyone will be willing to leave New York,” Joe said after taking a bite out of the salmon casserole Linz had prepared. “More than that, he’s sure that ponies will want to leave under their own power, once they come to a decision, be it a week after the caravan leaves, or next year. So, by setting up a string of outposts and supply dumps along the way, about thirty to forty miles apart along a marked path, people will have an easier way to go and an easier time doing so.”
Linz thought some as she chewed on a roll. “But, how are we going to go there? No cars.” She asked.
“Fred has a couple of people who were mechanics before the flash. They have managed to bung together something to allow cars to be driven, and they will be willing to come up here to outfit the Patrol vehicle for horse drivers. I’m going to go down to Belvedere again day after tomorrow. We have some work to do here first,” Joe said to a nervous-looking Linz.
“Good. After being alone all day, I want to spend some time with you. Being alone can be a bit frightening now,” Linz admitted.
Joe reached a wing across the low coffee table and patted her face. “I know. That’s why I insisted I get to spend some time with you before the next conference. So, what will be on your mind for tomorrow?”
“First off, we go and get some gas for the generator, so we can recharge batteries. After that, another raid run at the Target, and maybe a look at Costco. If we’re going to have company, I had best prepare, right?” Linz said with a giggle.
“Not a bad idea. Who and when will be decided day after tomorrow. They’ll probably send one of the salvage crews to bring back a load of supplies. You should have seen the looks my package got when they were opened. Linz, they are just scraping by down there. Most places they find have been ruined by dogs and rats. Besides, Central Park is not only not the best place to raise crops, hardly anyone in the group knows HOW to raise crops!” Joe said, letting out some of the worry and anxiety that had built up in him during his stay in the city.
“I can believe you, Joe. You’re a good man in a weird situation. All you can do is the best you can for who you can. I’ll help, you know that,” Linz said gently, taking his head in her glow and ‘running her fingers’ through his mane.
“We’re good for each other, Linz. We care about each other, and want to make each other happy, despite the surroundings and happenings we find ourselves in. Just about as close as we can be to being married, eh?”
Linz nodded at the words. “Sounds good enough for me, Joe. I’m game if you are,” she said, reaching her neck across the table to kiss Joe’s nose. However, the romantic moment was interrupted by a MEOW from the mantelpiece. They both looked to see Trixie perched there, looking down on the two, radiating smugness.
“TRIXIE!” the two shouted before breaking into laughter.
Author's Note
Okay, a plan of action has been worked out. Now, to see if it works...
Peregrination to the Promised Land
The rest of February and all through March, Joe and Linz prepared for the great move out. They hosted salvage crews from the city, who told them the forage up here is remarkably rat-free, compared to the urban environments further south. The two mechanics, Sarah Petoski and Allen Berkowitz, a unicorn and an earth pony respectively, spent a day working on the Patrol bus, converting it to a hoof-controlled vehicle as well as making sure the engine was good to go. Once that was all arranged, they moved the Patrol bus up to Linz’s place, where Joe and Linz spent two weeks, working odd hours between housekeeping and foraging chores, converting it from a passenger bus to a mobile home of sorts, with a sleep area, food prep and storage, and most important, a place for Trixie’s litter box that would not be under hoof.
April fifth, twenty-sixteen, dawned to clouds and intermittent rain. Joe made sure the vehicle was ready, while Linz checked the loading and Trixie supervised from one of the seats. An earth pony, Marsha Bivens, who elected to join the pilot team because she was nimble as well as strong, and she was an associate professor of botany at CCNY before the flash. She knew which plants were good to eat and which ones were not but would readily admit she never could keep a garden going for long, at least, not then. “I mainly want to get out of the cold and wet and go to a place that’s warmer!” she had said when she first came up to Nanuet to help get ready, and many times after that. It was like a mantra to her, to keep her spirits up and focused on getting out of town.
“You know that the weather in Alexandria is not too much better, Marsha,” Linz told her as they checked the packing.
“Anything would be better than a concrete jungle, Linz. Feeling the ground under my hooves is invigorating.”
Joe came around after doing the preflight. “Okay, ladies, are we good to go?” he asked.
“Everything looks like it is, Joe. All we have left to do is brew a couple pots of tea and coffee to have on the trip,” Linz announced.
“And make sure the fire is out before leaving,” Marsha added.
“Sounds like a plan to me! Let me call Fred and let him know we’ll be setting out in about an hour. I’ll also call Alex and let them know as well.”
“Why can’t that teleporting pony they told us about come and get us?” Linz asked.
“Two reasons. One, he’s readying for a trip to see the Toronto group and two, Alexandria is not ready for a sudden influx of refugees. Making our own way there gives them time to get ready, while we learn about the country,” Joe said gently.
“To think, he’s from here, but left decades ago,” Linz mused.
Joe nodded in agreement. “His grandfather was the first owner of Charlie’s Market, his father the second. I know they were members of the fire department years ago. In fact, Charlie Junior still is, a Life Member. Dad knew him, but dimly. He remembered him from the store,” he said before snorting. “Dad was fourteen when they left town. He was a freshman when this Dominic was a senior at South.”
“Unusual, for sure, but we can back-burner that discussion. Let’s get the coffee made and let’s get going!” Marsha urged. She and Linz did just that while Joe made his phone calls. By nine o’clock in the morning, they were ready, and the trio set out.
They had not gone far before a problem raised its ugly head- the highways may be free now, nobody to collect tolls, but they had not been maintained in almost a year. Potholes and such were not too bad but having to stop to clear debris or slow down to go around a fallen tree really slowed down their progress. Joe had wanted to reach Pennsylvania on I-78 by sunset, but by mid-afternoon had only got as far as Clinton, New Jersey. The whole time driving, they were looking for other people, or traces of people, but so far, no luck.
They camped at a truck stop, where the first thing they did was refuel the Patrol bus, by means of an electric pump, a long length of tubing, and a tub to pump the diesel into, allowing sediment to settle out before pouring it into the tank. The chore seems onerous, but with the three of them working together, it did not take long, and the chore went smoothly, with no major bumps, drops or spills. Once that was done, Joe took a pack loaded with spray paint and went to mark the trail to the campsite, while checking for habitation. Linz checked out the nearby grocery while Marsha set up the tent and checked the local vegetation. This early in April, there was not much to be found, but she felt the need to see how well things could be later in the year.
Joe flew back to the camp about a half-hour before sundown, with news. “I did not find any people, but I did find a horse farm a few miles back. I checked it out, and it has something we can use,” he reported eagerly.
“Like what? Oats and hay? Blankets?” Linz asked.
“Even better! Harnesses! Harnesses designed for a small horse, so we will be able to pull wagons and such without choking ourselves half to death doing so!” Joe said with joy. “I’m not knocking your sewing skills, Linz, but the harnesses you made, well, we never could get them to fit right.”
Linz nodded in agreement. “Yes, I know. I did the best I could, but I had no pattern.”
“We will tomorrow!” Joe said as he got out of the backpack, the spray paint cans clanking a little. “Trail here is marked, and I’ll call Fred after dinner to pass on the news. Tomorrow, Allentown!”
Author's Note
Short one before the fun starts.
Peregrination to the Promised Land
Shortly after sunrise, the three rose and struck camp. Joe drove to the horse farm, where they picked out four harnesses that could be adjusted for a decent fit. “With these, I won’t have to buck a tree to pieces, I can just tie a line to the harness and pull!” Marsha observed, working out how to put the harness on.
“That was one thing I was thinking about when I found them, Marsha. The main thing is remembering what I had to use back in Nanuet. Going up the hill was easy, but coming back with a loaded wagon, not so much fun,” Joe said as he drove.
Sticking to Interstate 78, the roadway was sound, but they could see that in some places, it had flooded over, and the shoulders were beginning to fray. Off the freeway, they could see some washed-out roads. “I’ll give these roads about five years before they really start deteriorating,” Marsha said as she watched the New Jersey countryside roll past.
“Before, they said ‘too many people, too little planet’. Now, it’s the other way around,” Linz replied.
“Yes, it is. Why would we come back so soon? It’s like we’ve been selected to pave the way for others,” Marsha wondered.
“I heard from Alexandria that our marks have meaning. That’s one thing I want to study more of when we get there,” Linz said from where she sat, petting Trixie.
Marsha turned to look at her mark, that of a fern leaf in a reddish color, contrasting with her dark green fur. “I think mine is due to my interest in botany. I’ve always liked plants, even though I never could grow a garden.”
“That’s what you get from growing up in Harlem, Marsha. Not too much green there to practice on. What I’m wondering about is why I have a grappling hook on my backside,” Joe said from the driver’s seat.
“Or me and my mark,” Linz added, which was that of a gray circle with two green spots in it, like cat’s eyes in the dark. “Or why the marks are so… distinct. Meant to stand out.”
“Some sort of magical identifier mark, to tell the world something about ourselves?” Marsha speculated.
“Hopefully, we’ll find answers in Alexandria.”
It took much of that day to go from Clinton, New Jersey to Allentown, Pennsylvania, again because of frequent stops to clear debris from the roads, like fallen signs, tree branches and broken cables, to name a few items. It struck them that there were no abandoned cars, no wrecks marring the side of the road, no trace of what happened. It was like as if everyone who was driving vanished at six-thirteen a.m. on the twenty-third of May two thousand fifteen. True, it was a Saturday morning, and traffic would have been light, but still, they all agreed it was creepy.
One thing they had all agreed upon before setting out is that whoever was driving controlled the music player. All three of them had different music tastes, Joe liking eighties and nineties music, Linz more the early two thousands, and Marsha preferring classical and jazz. Each had their own mp3 players, and those in the driver’s seat jacked in their players to listen to while they headed west.
Arriving in Allentown later than they would have liked, they prowled about some before finding a good camp site. Once they found one, they went about setting up camp. Due to the lateness of the hour, incoming clouds, and Joe’s feelings about the weather, they set up the campsite a bit different, namely that they decided to sleep in the bus, with the doors and windows open, and a tent fly protecting the door, which was positioned so that the expected rain would not blow inside the bus. Joe then called in, telling Fred where they were, and they planned on staying put until the rain stopped.
“I’m not going to tell you three how to do your jobs, not from here. You’re the ones on point, and if I didn’t trust you, I would not have sent you. The prep team will head out in about a week, and the main force two weeks after that. We’ve got gardens started, and they are growing faster than we expected,” Fred reported from Belvedere Castle.
“Glad to hear some good news, Fred!” Marsha called out, the satphone being in speaker mode. “We’ll check in tomorrow, okay?”
“You do that. Good night, all.” Fred said before hanging up. Just then, the first drops of rain hit the tent fly.
“Good thing we packed camp stoves.” Joe observed.
“There will be one good thing if we’re stuck here for a day or so,” Linz said as she broke out the cooking gear.
“What’s that?” Joe asked.
“Fresh bread tomorrow. I can set up an oven inside the store entry and bake a few loaves and a mess of rolls,” Linz said with a smile, the prospect of baking bread pleasing her.
“Plans like a sound to me. Linz, you stay here and cook while Marsha and I check out the store. Deal?” Joe quasi-ordered. It was the usual breakdown of labor, unless something was found that a unicorn’s glow would be a big help with.
“Deal. Dinner should be an hour. Take your radios!”
Doing so, Joe and Marsha headed into the store, headlamps on. They found a couple of broken windows, but the tree branches made clear how the windows were broken. The store’s goods were virtually untouched, with very little vermin activity noted. Some dead rats were found in the back area, likely from poison bait. “Not as bad as it could be. I found some places in Harlem that were putrid,” Marsha observed as they made their way around, noting what was there.
“Some in Nanuet, too. The broken windows must have allowed enough ventilation to dissipate the rotting smells,” Joe observed. They didn’t stay long, just doing a quick check. The detailed search would take place during the day, when there would be some more light.
The next day dawned gray and damp, low clouds overhead. After breakfast, Linz and Marsha set up the camp ovens on the store’s covered walk, avoiding streams from the gutter. Joe took the paint pack and started marking the trail, but soon gave up when he found wet paint and wet metal won’t bind. With a note to do that later, he went on with his next task, searching for intelligent life.
Joe pulled for altitude, to get a better overview of the deserted part of the city. One thing he did not expect was when he ran into the cloud deck… and bounced. Surprised, he regained his flight balance and tried again. This time, with more speed, he went through the cloud to the other side, sprawling ON the cloud.
“I can get to like this…” he said to himself as he sprawled on the white upper surface of the cloud. It was soft, yielding, and comfy, so he caught his breath there, wings spread. He felt more than heard a paint can work free from his pack as he sprawled, and the paint can fell through just like the cloud was… a cloud. Joe found he had to work a bit to dig his hoof into the cloud surface, but if he did not bend his will to doing so, the cloud was more like a very soft yielding surface. “Cotton ball clouds, oh yeah!” he laughed, digging through the cloud, watching the color of it grey out the deeper he dug.
Breaking through the bottom, he firmly told himself to get back to work, so he did. First thing he had to do was reorient himself, because while he was in/on the cloud, it had moved. Finding the ribbons of concrete that was I-78, he managed to figure out where he was. “Good thing the wind is going west to east- I remember the exit ramps…” he muttered as he flew lower, to better scope out the ground.
He let himself drift east, intending to check out Lehigh University, which signs had told him was a bit more to the east of where they stopped. What he was NOT expecting was the fusillade of bottle rockets that started popping under him! Joe let out a yelp and did some fast jinking, looking back to see where the rockets had launched from. That task was aided by another flight of bottle rockets, a roman candle, and several spark volcanoes on the ground, where he could see a manlike figure waving.
Joe aimed for the figure, which resolved into what appeared to be a dog on its back legs. Landing about twenty feet away, he furled his wings. “That’s one way to get attention!” he laughed.
“Yeah, I saw you flying, and I had these leftover fireworks, and so I set them off trying to get your attention!” the doglike being said. Close up, Joe found the being stood about his height, with grey toned fur and floppy ears, like a basset. The voice was that of a young teenager, and the shorts the boy wore were rather tight, as the pup was quite round in the middle.
“Well, you did. I’m Joe Velloti, and we’re just passing through. Who are you, and when did you wake up?” Joe asked.
“I’m Benjamin Cutler. I woke up a few days ago, in my bed, like this. I don’t know what happened. Do you?” he asked.
“I know A story of what happened. I don’t know how true it is. I woke up in February. How old are you, Ben?”
“Fourteen. I’m in my freshman year of high school. How can a horse fly with those wings?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know the HOW, I just know they DO. If it works, don’t question it, right?” Joe said with a smile.
Ben nodded in agreement. “Right. The how can come later. Speaking of which, where are you going?” he pleaded, giving Joe a lost puppy look.
“Myself and two others are heading for Alexandria, where there is a colony of ponies like me who are gathering together there. If you are up for a walk, I can take you to them. I’m sure they would not mind if you came along for the ride,” Joe said with warmth, noticing Ben’s apprehension about being left behind.
“Would you mind if I pack a bag? I hope I can find some bigger clothes, too. Everything in the house is too small!” Ben exclaimed as his too-tight shorts ripped slightly as he started dancing with joy.
“You go ahead and pack, I’ll just call ahead and let my friends know about you. I’ll go stand on the porch there, out of the rain,” Joe explained, pointing with a wing.
“Okay! I’ll be right out!” Ben said before running inside, his shorts splitting up the back as he ran. Joe went to the porch before pulling out his radio and calling in.
“Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol. I found another survivor,” he reported.
“What did you find, Joe?” Linz asked after a moment.
“A dog, like Serena Knapp in Manhattan. This one is a young teenage boy, who woke up only a few days ago. He’s packing right now, and I need directions,” Joe said before giving his location, looking at a street sign.
It took a couple more minutes for Linz to break out the map of the area and translate where she is and where he is into understandable directions. “Okay, then, expect us in a couple hours at most. He’s scared and lonely, and I doubt I can carry him on my back,” Joe said when Linz finished.
“You do what you think best, Joe. We’ll be ready when you get here.” Linz said before signing off. Joe, however, did some thinking. He looked at his butt mark and thought, an idea coming to mind.
A few minutes later, Ben came out of the house, wearing a snug pair of sweat pants and carrying a bulging backpack. “Okay, which way?” he asked.
“We’re parked at the Giant. It’s about an hour’s walk from here. But, would you like to try an experiment?” Joe asked.
“What sort of experiment?” Ben asked, puzzled.
“I’m not going to try to carry you on my back, but I will try to carry you in my hooves. I’ve noticed I can shift large trees if I get a grip on them, and if we can fly there, it will save time. Just how much do you weigh?” Joe asked.
“I was one twenty-five before. Now, I don’t know. Let me go check.” Ben put the pack down and darted inside, coming out a minute later. “Okay, I’m still one twenty-five, but I wasn’t this fat before.”
Joe nodded, thinking. “Okay, I think I can do this. I’m going to ask you to put the pack on and lie down. I’ll see if I can get a grip on you with my hooves.”
Immediately, Ben did as Joe suggested. “You won’t drop me, will you?” he asked.
“Nope. I have not dropped anything I have picked up yet, unless I wanted to drop them. Ready?”
“Ready!”
Joe spread his wings and flapped slowly, going to a hover. Slowly, he moved over the prone boy and lowered himself until his hooves touched Ben’s legs and shoulders. Willing himself to hold on, Joe flapped for altitude. Much sooner and easier than he expected, he took off, Ben beneath him. Quickly, he set course to the Giant.
“This is cool! I’ve flown before, but this is something else!” Ben shouted.
“It is, isn’t it? Now, keep as still as you can. If you shift your weight too much, I can lose my balance here and we’ll do a splat down. That will hurt you more than me!” Joe hollered back as he slowly pulled for altitude, aiming for the Patrol van, once he found it.
Ben promptly held as still as he could. “Okay, sir. I’ll do my best.”
Winging it, they were back at the store inside of ten minutes, Joe flying low and slow once he found his target. He landed behind the Patrol van, in sight of the cooking area Marsha and Linz had set up. The two ladies were staring at Joe and Ben in startlement as they gently landed. “I had an idea…” Joe tried to explain as he let go of Ben and landed himself.
“Looks like it worked, Joe. That was the fastest two hours I have ever seen,” Marsha said from where she stood.
“Hey, if I could shift trees, I can shift dogs. It was easier than I thought,” Joe reported as Ben got to his feet, removing his pack.
“When’s lunch?” Ben asked.
“Not for a while yet, Ben.” Joe said before doing introductions. “Put your pack down there in the dry and grab a flashlight. We’ll go in and see what we can find in the store, okay?”
“Yes, sir!” Ben said eagerly, doing as he was told.
“More explanations to follow. I think he’s imprinting on me,” Joe said quietly to Linz and Marsha.
“I’m not surprised,” Marsha said, also in low tones. “the same thing happened with Serena. She imprinted on Troy when he found her, and she won’t leave his side for long.”
“Well, I hope this fellow is a fast learner,” Joe said before Ben came into earshot, carrying a big five-cell flashlight. Joe put on his headlight and led Ben inside the store.
The two rummaged for an hour, finding what was good and what was not. Fortunately, one thing they did find was bigger clothes for Ben, which he happily changed into, finding comfort in something that did not dig in. Joe searched for other items, like batteries, cat food and litter, and something he hadn’t had to search out before- canned meat, other than fish. Also, a couple more can openers.
With two-handed help, Joe soon had more goods stored in the Patrol van, and the two males also did some rearranging, making the sleeping area a bit larger. The whole time, Joe talked to Ben, bringing him up to speed with what was going on in the world, as far as they knew. In exchange, Ben told Joe about what he went through, four days of isolation, raiding the stores his parents had in the house, his parents being ‘doomsday preppers’, they had a lot of preserved foods stored in the basement. “Doomsday did come, but not how they expected,” Ben said as he worked.
“Would you object much to my marking the place for future raiding?” Joe asked.
“I don’t see why not. Best use it before it gets ruined, right?”
“Okay, then. I’ll send the address to New York when I check in, and once the rain stops, which won’t be until tonight, I can blaze the trails to here and your place,” Joe told his new friend.
“How do you know it won’t stop raining until tonight?” Ben asked.
Joe shrugged. “Part of being a pegasus is having a good weather sense. When flying, I’m very aware of the weather conditions. My mother is a pilot, and I remember her teaching me how an airplane flew when I was young. It’s like I can almost SEE the instruments and know what’s going on.”
“What can a dog like me do?” Ben asked.
Joe thought. “I really don’t know for sure, Ben. Where we are going, they have a library there, provided by those who made us what we are. I’m sure we can find out once we arrive,” he wound up saying.
Ben hugged Joe gently. “Thank you for being honest, sir. Most would try to lie and bluff. You didn’t.”
Joe hugged back with a wing. “We all have to be honest with each other. We’re thrown into a strange world, in new bodies, and few people know the full story why. I know bits and pieces, but I don’t know much more. Honesty breeds trust and friendship, which we will all need to survive here,” he said quietly before Trixie stuck her head out of her travel box and let out a loud meow, which caused Ben’s ears to flip straight up for a few seconds before flopping down.
“You didn’t say you had a cat here!” Ben shouted in surprise.
“You didn’t ask. Will that be any problem to you?” Joe asked.
“If she doesn’t scratch me, it should be okay,” Ben said as he carefully reached out to Trixie, who sniffed at his finger before giving it a lick.
“Cats and dogs living together… what has this world come to?” Joe asked, only to get skewered by glares from both Ben and Trixie.
Author's Note
Joe learns something more about being a pegasus, and finds another survivor. Looks like Joe has to learn to be a parent as well as being a leader.
Peregrination to the Promised Land
Everyone woke up at rooster crow the next morning, helped by the crowing of roosters from Pete’s chicken run. Linz got the fire stoked enough to put on a pot of coffee, while Marsha took a couple of jugs to fill with water from a nearby creek. Ben assisted Linz in getting breakfast started, and Joe took off to look around. He did notice the Mall, finally recognizing it for what it was. He had spotted it before but was not sure of what it truly was. He inspected the road closely, finding nothing that would hinder the drive over and back, Pete apparently had cleared the road on his hikes there and back, presumably with some sort of wagon. Satisfied of his findings, he headed back to the vet clinic for a good breakfast.
He found Pete up and out, with fresh eggs to add to the meal. “What are you thinking, Joe?” Pete asked as he gave the basket (a Wal-Mart hand basket) to Linz.
Joe smiled as he landed. “I think that we should not have any trouble giving you some help, Pete. Linz and Ben will stay here, to not only make you some fresh bread, but also leaving them here will give us more room for hauling stuff. Seeing as it’s not far, if we can find some sort of trailer, that will give us that much more room for cargo,” he said.
Pete grinned in return. “I know where some are at the Wal-Mart, in the garden center. A couple of generators, some more chicken wire rolls, additional materials to build a chicken coop with, along with a phone and groceries will be a real big help.”
“Been planning something like this for a while, eh?” Joe chuckled as he took off his paint can bag, but left on his flight harness, which had his radio and phone clipped to it.
“Only as long as I have been here. Hauling the cart there and back, I can only get one trip a day in before losing my wind. Guess I’m not built for much stamina,” Pete observed as Linz cracked eggs into a bowl.
“Well, we are happy to give you some help while we are here, Pete. After breakfast, we’ll go get a load.”
With Joe, Marsha and Pete out shopping, Linz and Ben first set up the baking gear and got some loaves started. Once that was done, they split up to do some looking around. Linz followed Trixie out into the surrounding trees, while Ben took to looking in different windows at the vet clinic.
Linz and Trixie headed east of the clinic, past the patch of open space to the woods. There, they found a path leading deeper into the trees, a path with the unmistakable traces of dog feet and cart wheels. Curious, Linz followed the trail. The unicorn and cat soon came upon a pit filled with turned earth, a large pit right off the path. Trixie pounced in, chasing a blown leaf. She let out a mowl and scrabbled out of the hole. Linz extended her glow, first to pick up the kitty and put her on her back before digging around where she had landed.
Her glow uncovered a bit of bone. Linz dug a bit more, and uprooted the bone, revealing it to be the horn of a unicorn, like her own but a solid whitish gray color from tip all the way down to where it had been cut off with precision, like with a bone saw. With a shudder of revulsion, she dropped the horn back into the pit and ran back to the clinic, trying not to scream in fright, Trixie hanging on with all four sets of claws.
Linz found Ben staring with shocked fascination in a window of the building next to the main clinic. When he heard Linz’ hooves pounding on the turf, he turned from the window, nose gray from shock, his eyes filling with tears. “We better get out of here…” Ben whispered.
Linz used her magic to look inside. With Trixie on her back, she had found she could extend her senses enough to look on the other side of a wall. Inside, she saw a pony’s body, a unicorn to be precise, lying on a table, in the process of being dissected, the head already cut apart and opened.
Linz took hold of Ben and hugged the basset pup tight, finding her own depths of self-control. Joe had left her in charge here, and she had best NOT panic, no matter how much she wanted to. Ben returned the hug, frightened out of his wits. “What do we do now, Linz?” Ben whimpered.
“We let Joe and Marsha know. With texts, not with a call, having them call us when Pete is not near them, so we can tell them what we found,” Linz said before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, reminding herself that she is a nursing student, and scenes of gore like she had seen may be frightening, but she has a job to do and she was going to do it. Mom did, so can she.
“Right. You’re the boss here. Should I break down the oven while you call?” Ben asked.
“Only if the bread is done. If not, take a basket, line it with straw, and see to gathering eggs,” Linz told the scared pup. “Let’s get away from this window first.”
At the Wal-Mart, Pete and Marsha had managed to hitch a trailer up to the Patrol and the three of them had started loading it with Pete’s desired supplies, two generators being first in, followed by several bags of chicken feed and three rolls of chicken wire. As they spread out in the store for some more supplies, Joe’s phone buzzed on his harness. Reading the text, he headed outside, passing Pete as he did. “Where are you going?” Pete asked.
“Out to piss. Don’t want to do it in here,” Joe explained as he trotted by.
“Don’t be too long at it. We can be done with this load by lunch,” Pete said, panting slightly. Apparently, his words about his lack of stamina were accurate.
“Be right back!” Joe called out as he went by.
Outside, Joe called Linz and listened to her report. “Thank you, Lindsay. We’ll be over as soon as we can. Be ready when we get there.”
“Will do, Joe.”
Heading back inside, Joe found Marsha coming out, hauling a wagon load of goods. “Marsha, get the Patrol ready to go. We’re out of here,” he whispered.
“Why?” Marsha asked.
“Tell you later,” Joe whispered back. “Need to find Pete.”
“Okay, Joe,” Marsha said, bringing her wagon to the trailer.
Joe went into the store, looking for Pete. Listening, he traced the dog to the sporting goods area. “Pete, we need to get going. Linz needs me.”
“Oh? Is that who called? What’s wrong?” Pete asked, stopping from loading his wagon with gear.
“She would not say; just said she needs my presence. I hope the oven didn’t get away from her,” Joe said with concern. “I had hoped she was over that by now.”
“Why don’t you just fly back, check on her and return? It’s not that far,” Pete said, his hand going to the pocket of his sweatshirt. “You don’t need Marsha or the truck, right?”
Joe sighed at the growling tones in Pete’s voice. “No, I don’t, but I want to bring the Patrol with me. Marsha too.”
Pete pulled his hand out of his pocket, showing the pistol he had in it. “No, Joe. You are going to fly over, check what’s going on, then come back. You have an hour. If you’re not back by then, Marsha is going to get a slug through the running lights. When I catch up with you, you will be next. Lindsay will be bled out, because I don’t want her head damaged.”
“Let me guess, we’re not the first ponies to pass by,” Joe said.
“No, not at all. The first since the thaw, yes. I do have more research to do on how this magic works, and that takes subjects to examine. How nice that I get one of each type at the same time,” Pete said with menace, baring his fangs. “Luck smiles upon me.”
“Sure looks like it, Doctor Petermann. I can’t argue with a gun. Barking irons don’t listen too well,” Joe said with a resigned tone. “I’ll be back in an hour, give or take.” He backed up a couple of steps and spread his wings, pumping them a couple of times to gain enough altitude to get above the shelving, turning to aim for the doors to the loading area where the Patrol was parked.
“Remember, I won’t hesitate to kill Marsha. I don’t need her to drive,” Pete growled, tracking Joe with the gun as the pegasus headed out of the store.
“Understood, Doctor.” Joe called down as he flew out. When he passed the doors, Joe grabbed the pull rope with his teeth, jerking the door down on its tracks, closing the door. Marsha already had the Patrol running, and when the door closed, she stepped on the gas, laying rubber. She had unhitched the trailer and left it there before starting the motor. “Go, Marsha! I’ll catch up!” Joe called into the radio. The Patrol headed for the exit.
Joe hovered up over the exit to the Wal-Mart. As he expected, Pete came running out, pistol in paw. As Pete set himself, taking aim at the departing Patrol vehicle, Joe made his move. Joe dive-bombed the dog, his front hooves together, smacking Pete in the shoulders just below his neck.
Pete let out a surprised grunt, falling forward and dropping the pistol as Joe completed his swoop, climbing up and looping some. Pete shook himself, looking for the pistol. Joe looped around for another attack, this time landing on Pete’s back. He then got a grip on the Doberman’s shoulders and ankles with his hooves and lifted, flapping for all he was worth. Pete struggled some, but Joe’s hoof grip was like adamantine as he pulled for altitude.
“Let me go, you damned horse! I’ll kill you all!” Pete shouted.
“In your dreams!” Joe puffed, going higher. “Do you want to become roadkill?”
“I’ll kill you first!” Pete barked, his struggles making it hard for Joe to climb, but he kept at it, now half way up the wall of the Wal-Mart.
Joe did not reply, just kept on pulling for altitude. He could not see the Patrol driving off, and didn’t waste effort trying, he just needed to get higher.
“I’ll butcher you like all the rest!” Pete shouted, but Joe paid him no heed. Once clear of the rooftop, Joe went for speed, flying toward the roof. Aiming for a skylight, he let go of the struggling dog, who did hit the skylight, but not at the right angle to break through it. Free of the weight, Joe climbed more before circling over and back down under the roof line, searching for his goal- Pete’s dropped pistol.
Before he spotted it, he could hear Pete howl in rage. Joe didn’t even look back, searching for the gun. Finally spotting it, he flew to it and picked it up in one of his forehooves before heading for the highway. “Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol,” he puffed.
“Eight-Patrol. Go, Eight-Nine,” Marsha replied.
“Grab the others as fast as you can, then head west on I-70. I have his gun, and I’ll catch up with YOU!” Joe yelped as he felt a sting on his left hind leg. “DAMMIT!”
“Joe! You all right?” Marsha asked.
“He has another gun! Avoid 70, and head south on that road! I’ll catch up! Eight-Nine out!” Joe said as he started jinking, making himself a harder target, taking aim at the highway. He heard two more bullets go by him but missing.
Joe flew as fast as he could until he was on the far side of I-70, maintaining enough altitude to see the clinic and the Patrol pulling in to the lot. He then aimed for the road the clinic was on, south of the clinic, going to get ahead of the others for pickup.
“Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol. I will be on the road south of the clinic, about a quarter mile away. Request pickup!” Joe shouted into the radio mic.
“Five minutes, Joe. Linz and Ben are leaving a couple surprises for Doctor Petermann,” Marsha reported.
“Five minutes, aye. Eight-Nine standing by,” Joe said as he touched down on the road. His left hind leg immediately buckled under him, sending him to the pavement with a yelp of unsuppressed pain. He rolled onto his right side, seeing the smear of blood on the roadway and the dark crease in his red fur. “Getting shot sucks!”
A few minutes later, the Patrol pulled up, stopping a few feet away. Ben and Linz got out, Linz picking Joe up in her glow, Ben guiding him through the doors. Joe was placed on the bed as Marsha drove off down the road. “Okay, Joe, this isn’t bad, but I bet it hurts a lot. Cleaning’s going to hurt more.” She told him as she broke out the big first aid kit.
“No shit, Sherlock!” Joe hissed as Linz started cleaning the wound. “Just what did you do back there?”
“I gathered all the eggs I could find before chasing the chickens out of the run. Linz lit the signal fire, and left a few gas cans near it,” Ben reported, holding Joe’s leg up for Linz to work on.
“Plus, I left a surprise or two in his stove, under the ashes. Next time he lights a fire, he’s going to get a nasty reminder of our visit,” Linz told him as she dressed the wound.
“What sort of surprise?” Joe asked around gritted teeth.
“A couple of road flares. If the gas cans don’t devastate the place, maybe the flares will, with him inside. He’s not going to have a lot to come back to,” Linz snarled.
“I didn’t know you were that vindictive, Linz,” Joe told his first lady friend.
“You didn’t see the bone pit nor the dissected unicorn, Joe. I’m going to have nightmares about it later, but right now, I’m just eager to see said doctor on his own dissection table, opened up, but I’ll settle for ruining his home as much as I can,” she said as she finished up the bandaging.
Joe patted Linz with a wing. “I’ll be here for you, thanks to your work,” he said gently as Ben let go of his leg.
“I hate to interrupt the love fest, but which way should we go?” Marsha called out from the driver’s seat.
“You got the maps, Marsha. We better avoid 70 west of here for a way. Right now, I can do with a dose of painkiller and a nap. He was heavy!” Joe told the driver.
“What did you do, Joe?” Ben asked as Linz dug through the supplies for the bottle of Everclear, some mixer, a glass and a straw.
“I picked him up, like I picked you up, and dropped him on the roof of the store. I wanted to send him through the skylight, but I missed the shot. Bastard had a second gun.”
“You’re still hanging on to the one gun,” Ben pointed out Joe looked, and the pistol was still clamped onto his right front hoof.
Joe quickly let go of it. “How much do you know about gun safety?” he asked the pup.
Ben picked up the gun, some sort of automatic pistol, and put the safety on. “Quite a bit. My father is an Allentown police officer, as well as a hunter. He trained me all about firearms safety since I was old enough to remember, and we’ve gone hunting several times. I left my rifle at home,” he said as he pulled out the clip. “Five shots fired, seven still in the clip, if I read this right.”
“We’re going to have to find some more weapons and ammo. Ben, I designate you our security officer, responsible for care and use of firearms. Any shooting you do, you’ll have to justify to the rest of us after the fact. No fooling around, or else I’ll lock up the weapons,” Joe said after a sip of painkiller.
“Yes, sir!”
Author's Note
A grappling hook for a cutie mark- I wonder what that means?
Peregrination to the Promised Land
Chapter nine- Oh, Hi, Oh!
That night found the team camping outside of Cadiz, Ohio, at a hospital they found. Linz wanted to replenish her medical supplies, and the going on the roads was slow, many trees and branches down, along with mud. Joe dozed much of the way, leaving the others to clear the roadway to allow passage. By morning, he was feeling much better, able to walk without staggering, and fly with no issue. The team refueled at the first opportunity, then made their way down US22 to where it linked up with I-77, going down to reconnect with I-70 westbound. Joe had called both New York and Alexandria, giving them a full report about the mad Doctor Petermann, and all should avoid the area of Ohio west of Wheeling until it is proven that the dog had been removed.
The team did find a gun store along the way, and outfitted themselves with several boxes of ammunition, another pistol, a rifle and a cleaning kit. Ben kept himself busy for a while, cleaning the weapons as they drove.
Two days of steady travel had the party in Columbus, Ohio at nightfall, where they set up camp at a truck stop east of town. Seeing as rain and chill was moving in, they decided to take a day off from driving and camp, baking bread and scavenging, restocking their consumables. Joe took off to search for survivors and traces of occupation. To his rather pleasant surprise, he DID find a trace, a large Target that had a back door kicked in. Examining the store showed obvious signs of raiding. He called in the sighting and started scouting around, looking for the kicker.
Ten minutes of searching led him to a house about a quarter-mile from the Target that had smoke coming from an impromptu chimney punched through the roof of the garage. Curious, he flew down and knocked. He heard a startled gasp from inside and furtive whispering. “Hello! Fire Department!” Joe shouted.
Some more whispering followed before a young voice called out. “Who are you?” came from behind the door.
“Fire Department! Is everyone all right?” Joe said.
The door opened, and a young pony appeared, a little blue and pink earth pony filly. “You with the fire department?” the filly asked.
“Yes, I am. Not from here, but I AM a fire pony. Is everything all right?” Joe asked.
The filly smiled and nodded. “We’re trying to stay dry and warm. Who are you?” she asked, sounding a little suspicious.
“I’m Joe Velloti, from New York. Me and my friends are passing through, heading for Alexandria. Who all is here?” he asked.
The filly smiled in relief. “I’m Mary Contreras, and with me are Danny Storting and his sister Sara. Come on in!” she invited, and Joe did so. Looking around the dim garage, he saw a yellow unicorn colt and a white and blue pegasus filly, both a little smaller than Mary, towards the back of the garage near a pile of sleeping bags, tucked next to an old camper trailer, a compact one.
“How old are you, and how long have you been back?” Joe asked.
“I’m nine, they’re eight,” Mary said.
“And three-quarters!” Sara chimed in with.
Mary sighed. “And three-quarters. We were all camping out here together, and when we woke up, we were all like this! We’ve been here about three weeks, more or less.”
“I’d know for sure if Mary hadn’t stepped on my watch!” Danny said petulantly.
Joe held up a wing. “Easy, kids. I’m going to call my friends and see if they can come pick us up. You look a bit hungry,” he said to them. Truly, he could see ribs on all three of the little ponies. “We got food and a car with heat. Can someone give me the address here? I flew in and didn’t look at the street signs.”
“You flew here?” Sara asked. “I can’t get these wings to work. How do you do it?”
“I’ll show you, once we get settled together. If I can do it, you can too. Now, where are we?” Mary told him the house address, and Joe touched his mic with a wing. “Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol…” he started. When Linz answered, he told her what he found, and asked for pickup.
“Give us about half an hour, Joe. I have to break out the maps, and I don’t know how the roads are. Who should I bring, Marsha or Ben?” Linz asked.
“Ben. We may need a couple of hands to help out,” Joe ordered.
“Okay. Half an hour. Eight-Patrol out.”
Until the Patrol arrived, Joe talked with the kids, finding out they were friends since kindergarten, and when they woke up to find themselves changed and everyone gone, they stuck together. They raided the grocery store every couple of days, finding less and less available they knew they could eat. They didn’t want to go too far, but they all admitted to being scared. The fire they had because Mary found a big butane lighter, and they had been burning anything dry they could find to keep warm, in her father’s coal forge. Joe told them his story of waking up on a cold night, finding Lindsay, and all that had been happening that brought them to Columbus, and where they were going.
When the Patrol arrived, the kids were eager to get going. They delayed for a while to allow them to gather some belongings they wanted to take with them, with Ben’s help. Each could bring one pack of treasures with them before finding places in the Patrol, where they were kept occupied with some decent food and having Trixie examine them.
While the kids ate, Linz and Joe got some flashlights out and checked over the old camper pod. The wheels appeared sound, and the hitch worked, although it was stiff from lack of use. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Linz?” Joe asked.
“I think so, otherwise the Patrol is going to be rather crowded. We’re going to have to move the car out of the driveway to hitch it up, and I want to find some new tires for it,” Linz replied.
“I agree. They look sound, but it has been sitting for a year or more. One bad bump and we could blow a tire. Let’s get the kids back to camp, and I’ll scout around for a place to get some more tires. Right now, we have three scared, lonely kids who can use friends, adult supervision, and feeding up. Think we can do that?”
Linz smiled with warmth. “Of course, we can! It will mean more work for us, but I’m sure we can work out something to get them to Alexandria. Now that we know they are here, it would be sinful to leave them behind!”
Joe gave Linz a long look. “You sat through Father Netter’s sermons too, I see.”
Linz nodded. “Quite a few of them. Mom and Dad brought me to church every Sunday, except when we were out of town.”
“Well, let’s get a move on, okay?” Joe asked, giving Linz a wing hug.
Linz gave Joe a quick kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get it done!”
Author's Note
As if getting shot in the ass wasn't enough, he now has three kids to look after. Can't Joe catch a break? We know he can catch bullets...
Peregrination to the Promised Land
It was the better part of five days before the party left Columbus, five days spent getting the camper in condition to roll with the kids inside. They checked more than one supermarket, to find supplies and parts for a party of seven. They also took the time to do a servicing of the Patrol, changing oil, replacing wipers, fuel filters, washer fluids, and the like. Ben agreed to ride in the camper, to keep the kids company, at least for the first part of the trip. Linz and Marsha agreed to take turns as well. It was a happy group of ponies (and one dog) that took to the Interstate west out of Columbus. Both Alexandria and New York were informed of the finding, and Alexandria told Joe that good homes will be found for the children once they arrived.
Westward they went, making anywhere from fifty to one hundred miles a day across Ohio and Indiana, stopping frequently to clear the road enough to drive through, and taking it slow the rest of the time, only increasing speed when they could see they had a clear road.
West of Indianapolis, the party followed US36 instead of an interstate, because that way they would pass north of Alexandria, turning left at US 150 to head into town. They were told that a crew would be making sure 150 would be cleared of debris all the way up to US36, so once at 150, they would have a clear shot into town.
They decided to camp at a Wal-Mart outside of Danville, because the weather had turned drizzly again, and the kids were getting a bit cranky. Linz suggested making it a cooking stop, so she could do some more baking, and Joe agreed. Pulling in, they set up camp.
Joe, Ben and Danny went in to explore the store, Danny having been taught by Linz how to light up his horn. Telekinesis was proving just a little tougher, he finding it hard to move more than a pencil with any accuracy. They started looking around, and immediately spotted the fact that the store had been raided, and more than once. Hoofprints were on the floor, trailing to the back. Some products were mussed some, piled on the floor, like they were dropped there by a pony trying to get something off a shelf.
“This is a bit spooky,” Danny said, looking around at the mess. “Who’s been here?”
“Can’t say, Danny. Let’s keep looking about, and see what we can find,” Joe told the colt, putting a wing around him for reassurance. Danny leaned up against the red pegasus until his shaking stopped. At least, the foraging has been decent- the kids were not as ribby as before.
A search showed the store has been selectively raided, only certain items missing, like first aid stuff, garden tools and fertilizer, storage bins, some groceries, towels and bedding, and other general-purpose stuff. By the loading dock, they found a door that had been kicked open, and tire tracks on the pavement. The marks looked like that of a tractor, big wide muddy tracks with two smaller tracks between them.
The team gathered some supplies for dinner and baking before going out to report to the others what they found. “I’m going to follow the tire tracks while I have some daylight. Give me a couple of lanterns, and I’ll put them on the roof, so I can find my way back,” Joe stated. “Linz, you’re in charge while I’m out. Start dinner and keep the kids here. I’ll be in touch.” Joe tapped his radio before taking wing.
Setting the lanterns on the roof, he set them to blinking before following the tracks. They led north then east, to an apple orchard, one set up for commercial and tourist use, evidenced by the big sign along the road. The tire marks led to a house on the south edge of the property, and a tractor pulled up in the drive, a large fairly new tractor that showed signs of hard use and tender care.
Curious, Joe landed by the tractor. Looking about, he saw lights on inside the house, flickering firelight, like an old lantern would do. He knocked on the door, hoping someone would answer. Heavy hoofsteps could be heard approaching the door, then a pony’s head appeared at a window near the door, a large reddish-yellow earth pony head. It seemed rather dour at first, then lit up with a smile as he spotted Joe. “Hey, Maw, we got company!” Joe heard before the head pulled back and the door rattled before opening.
Joe was shown inside, meeting the big earth pony, who was easily half again as big as Joe, with a mark of four apples on his flank, who introduced himself as Vernon Lundquist, the farm manager. Joe also met his wife Daisy, who had a picture of a white flower surrounded by a pink nimbus on her light green unicorn flanks. “You’re the first pony we’ve seen since we came back! It’s been months!” Vernon exclaimed.
“How long have you been back? I came back in February,” Joe said, breathing in the aroma of apples baking on a wood-fired stove.
“Sometime last August,” Daisy said, cutting up an apple pie with a knife held in her pink glow.
“Yes, it was. The Galas were ready for harvest when we came back. We were riding the tractor out in the early morning to check on the orchard when this bright flash hit, and it went from early morning to late afternoon,” Vernon confirmed. “We been raiding the Wal-Mart and other places to find what we need to care for the orchard.”
“That’s how we found you. We stopped at the Wal-Mart and found hoofprints and tire tracks. I flew here, following the tire tracks. I’m glad I did!” Joe said.
“You can actually fly with those wings?” Daisy asked.
“Just as much as you can lift a knife with your pink glow, Daisy. I didn’t think they would work at first, but when I needed a fast get-away, they worked, and I have had no reason to doubt them,” Joe told the green unicorn.
“Tell you what, young fellow. I know it’s getting dark out, and you may not want to fly back at night. How about you head back to your group, and Daisy and I will come out to visit you in the morning?” Vernon suggested.
“Let me get a bag of apples for you to bring back!” Daisy added, trotting back to the kitchen and opening a bin, grabbing a cloth bag in her glow.
“I think that would be a very good idea, Mister Vernon. I don’t want them all to worry,” Joe said humbly. He could tell this pony was an older fellow from before, and the gravitas had carried over.
Daisy came back, the bag now bulging with apples, yet not overfilled. “We’ll be sure to bring some more tomorrow, and we’ll spend some time with you all then, okay?”
Joe did a sketchy bow to the couple. “I’m sure we will all look forward to that. Just let me call them to let them know I’m coming back with some good news, then I’ll head out,” he said before keying his mic. “Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol. I’ll be home in a few minutes, with some good news. Tell you then. Eight-Nine out.”
“Eight-Patrol ten-four,” Linz said over the radio as Joe took the bag handles in his mouth. “Thank you very much. Until tomorrow!” he managed to say around the bag while Vernon opened the door, the aroma of sweet crisp apples filling his nose.
“Have a safe flight, young fellow,” Vern said as Joe exited the house and took off.
Back at the Wal-Mart, Joe picked up the beacons from the roof before landing by the Patrol, the blinking lights getting everyone’s attention. “Where you find the apples?” Marsha asked as Ben gently took the bag from Joe’s mouth.
Joe explained about finding the Lundquists and the apple orchard a short distance away as everyone shared out the fresh fruit, there being enough in the bag for everyone to have two. “They’ll visit in the morning?” Mary asked.
“That’s what they said, and with them being farmer folk, that will probably mean early in the morning,” Joe told the earth pony filly. “That means we should all be up at rooster crow, so we can be ready for them. He then looked at the foals with a semi-glower. “That means ALL of us should take a shower tonight and change out the bedding!”
“Yes, Joe…” the foals said together, none of them meeting his glower.
That evening, all of them worked at getting ready for the company coming in the morning. Joe and Ben scavenged the store for fresh bottled water and a wash tub, Linz found a low charcoal grill and a bag of charcoal, Marsha tossed out the old bedding and got fresh, while the kids split up and helped who they wanted to. By the time everything was done, all were ready for bed.
Joe set his alarm (the one on the phone) for just after sunrise, and he was pretty close. The damned noise went off and he opened his eyes to see the sun coming up over the horizon. After a yawn and stretch, he took his first usual action of the day, putting the coffeepot on the fire after stoking it up, followed by his second action, going out of sight of the Patrol to piss. When he came back from that, Linz, Marsha and Ben were up, getting breakfast ready. Joe knocked on the side of the camper to wake up the kids before going to help with breakfast fixing.
They were about halfway through eating when they heard a big diesel engine approaching. Danny and Sara ran to the corner of the building and cheered when they saw the big tractor coming down the road towards them. When Vernon pulled up, the kids were all prancing with joy over meeting someone new. Joe didn’t even try to stop them.
Vernon and Daisy climbed down out of the tractor cab. They each grabbed a basket from the trailer the tractor was pulling, one a big bushel basket full of apples, the other a smaller one with fresh eggs, milk and butter. As the kids cheered, Linz had to ask, “Where did you get the butter?”
“I made it myself. We have six cows and a bull at the orchard, that we found wandering loose after we woke up. Vern has them in the garage across from the main house, and I milk them every morning,” Daisy told her. “It’s not a proper breakfast without milk and butter and eggs!”
Daisy went to the fire and started preparing some more breakfast while Vern set down his bushel basket. The kids swarmed around the big earth pony, knowing with a child’s instinct that he could be trusted. Vern sat down and started talking to the kids, like a grandfather would upon seeing new grandkids. Joe and Ben joined him, while Linz and Marsha went to watch and help Daisy. Turns out there was more than milk, eggs and butter in the basket, fresh veggies were on the bottom, which made for some spectacular omelets, which were much better than the oatmeal and granola they had earlier.
The ponies and dog spent a nice early morning together, getting to know each other. About ten, Vern said they had chores to do, and asked if anyone wanted to go spend the day at the orchard helping. All agreed, so the kids got into the trailer, Linz and Marsha trotting alongside, Trixie in her usual place on Linz’ back, and Joe flying ahead. The kids happily spent the rest of the day learning about life on a farm, they all having grown up outside of Columbus, while the older ponies had fun learning about farm life as well.
Marsha asked Vern how he managed to have such a nice garden so early in the spring. He told her that he just had a way with plants, and they flourished under his attention. She followed him much of the day, as did Mary, who caught on how to raise plants much sooner than Marsha did. Sara helped Joe pick apples and clear wood from the upper branches of the trees, while Linz, Ben and Danny helped Daisy. Dinner that night was a very pleasant affair, with various apple dishes served up, as well as home made pasta and fresh bread made in a proper oven. Plans were made to camp out one more day there, preparing for the last drive to Alexandria. Vern and Daisy said they planned on staying at the orchard but would welcome any pony from Alexandria who wished to come up and help.
When Daisy offered to have everyone spend the night at the farmhouse, to spend a night in a real bed, the offer was eagerly accepted by all but Joe and Linz, who said they would prefer getting back to the campsite for the night, to make it ready for the next day. Vern agreed to take them down and back, so after dinner, he fired up the tractor and they rode back to the Wal-Mart in the dusky sunset light.
At the store, they did find an ugly sight. During the day, the place had been invaded by wild dogs, tearing up the campsite and getting into the store, where they had gone into a frenzy in the pet department before settling down. Outside, the campfire setup had been disarrayed, cooking gear scattered and the trash pile rooted through. Fortunately, the Patrol and camper had been secured, so the dogs did not get inside. “Looks like we’ll have some cleaning up to do,” Linz sighed.
“Just stay inside the bus at night. They will leave in the morning,” Vern reassured them. “Best gather up a fire before you two go to bed. They’ll avoid that, and when I come back in the morning, I’ll bring my shotguns. A couple of rock salt rounds will get the stragglers to head out.”
“You’ve faced dogs before?” Joe asked.
“Yep. Good thing Maw and I came up with a way for me to fire my shotguns. Left the saddle at home, though. Didn’t think we’d need it.”
Joe and Linz set the camp to rights, shutting the doors before starting, to avoid interruptions. They spent a pleasant evening alone together, sipping coffee before bed, where they slept together and alone for the first time since leaving New York. Okay, Trixie was there, but she didn’t say anything about it.
Mid-morning, Vern and Daisy brought the others back, along with a load of apples and other produce, for them to bring to Alexandria. The kids were all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, thrilled at having been able to sleep in real beds for the first time since becoming ponies. With warm farewells and a lot of hugs, the two groups went on their separate ways, not before Vern repeated his offer of having anyone who wanted to help out at the orchard to come on up. “We miss having neighbors, and more hooves will make our work easier!” he said before leaving.
Author's Note
Looks like Joe can catch a break- ponies that don't shoot at him. Fresh apples, too.
Peregrination to the Promised Land
Chapter Eleven- Alexandria
Joe drove west on 36, knowing that tonight, they will either be in Alexandria or real close. There were still times when they had to stop and clear debris off the road, but the work seemed to go faster, knowing they were getting close to their destination. By two, they had cleared the Indiana-Illinois line, and an hour later, they made it to route 150, where they found someone waiting for them.
A gray unicorn stallion with a white and purple mane and tail was at the intersection, with a mark of red dots and blue lines on his flanks. He walked up to the stopped Patrol. When Joe rolled down the window, the first thing the strange unicorn said was “I never thought I would ever see Chief Nannewitt again.”
“You must be Dominic Capobianco. I’m Joe Velloti, Eight-Nine,” Joe said.
“That WAS me. I’m now named Rapid Transit, or Artie. You and me have got a lot ta talk about, once you gets settled,” Artie told Joe. “Now, I’m gonna speeds you on your way. All you needs ta do is drive through the disc, get your nose even with the stop sign, then STOP. I’ll catch up with ya, then we’ll see abouts getting ya settled. Deal?”
“Artie, after the drive we’ve had, you better believe it’s a deal!” Joe said with a big smile.
Artie pointed with his horn, and a silver disc appeared about ten feet in front of the Patrol. “Get movin, I’ll be right behind ya.” Joe drove through, finding himself somewhere else. Confused, he pulled up even with the stop sign and stopped.
Artie trotted up beside the driver’s door. “Okay, engine off and everyone out for health and safety inspection!” he shouted. Once everyone had piled out, Artie introduced himself to everyone, and got everyone’s names in return. Trixie meowed at him, jumped on his back, kneaded for a few seconds, then jumped back to Linz.
“Trixie likes you, Artie!” Linz exclaimed. “She says you’re already claimed by another cat, one she would like to meet.”
“She’ll get da chance, Lindsay. Your temporary house is just behind my house, so we’ll be seein a lot of each other for da next few days at least. Now, follow me to da doctors, where you’ll get checked over. After that, a debriefing, so we can find out what happened ta youse ponies. Tonight, after dinner, there will be time for us all to chill out and relax, but the relaxin’ don’t start until da paypahwoik’s did,” Artie told the group.
“Speaking of dinner, Artie, we have some supplies we would like to share out, from our last stop. Linz, Ben, get the stuff out of the trailer, okay?” Joe said with a big smile as the two named went to work, opening the trailer and hauling out three full bushel baskets of apples and one basket of mixed garden veggies.
Artie’s eyes damn near bugged out of his head. “Holy schnike! When you guys go somewhere, you ain’t kiddin’ around! Where ya get this stuff?” he asked as he looked at the offerings, taking an apple in his glow and crunching it down in one bite.
Joe grinned. “That will come out at your debriefing. Now, shall we get checked out?”
Artie blinked, snapping out of whatever rapture the fresh, crisp apple had put him in. “Yeah, yeah. Let me get a woikin’ party out here foist,” he said before pulling out a radio and calling in to get some help. When that was done, he opened another telegate. “Okay, ponies and others, through there. Quick time, please. Door don’t stay open for long!” The group went through, followed by Artie, coming out at the hospital, where Doctor Oliver, an orange earth pony, checked them over with the help of his apprentice, Coppertop, another orange earth pony with a coppery mane between his ears, while Artie took a break in the waiting area, chatting with the foals first before their examination.
After the exam, Artie brought the party to the meal area, where the group was served a decent dinner, which included some of the goods they had brought from the orchard. The debriefing took place at the same time, with Alex, Cloudy Skies, Adrian, Artie and Soaring Heart doing the questioning. The question time was held short, just a quick overview before more detailed questioning in the future. Artie then brought the crew back to the Patrol, where he guided them to their temporary housing, which was but a hundred yards from his own. “Now, I lives in that house over there,” he told them, pointing with his horn. “You have ANY issues that crop up during the night, you just come over and knock, and one of us will helps you out. This house has been refitted with all the working amenities, but don’t think every house is like this one. Over at mine, I got power, but not water. Soon, I’s told. Permanent housing, well, I’ll leaves that up to you to decide. Welcome home, everypony! Settle in and sleep with both eyes shut for once.”
“Artie, thank you for helping us get settled here,” Joe told the gray unicorn.
“Hey, youse folks got yourselves here. Might as well welcome youse with open forelegs, right?” Artie said with a smile. “Night, kids! See ya all tomorrow!”
“Night, Uncle Artie!” the kids chorused, all of them swarming around Artie for hugs happily given and returned.
After Artie trotted back to his house, Joe led everyone to the living room. “Okay, everyone. I want first feelings. What do you think of Alexandria?” he asked.
Mary was the first to speak up. “Uncle Artie is nice! He cares about every pony!” she said, Danny and Sara nodding in agreement.
“Why do you call him ‘Uncle Artie’?” Joe asked.
“He said we could!” Danny said. “He wants us not to worry, that we will find good homes here, one way or another. He cares!”
“He does!” Sara added. “He said Miss Soaring Heart will help me learn to fly better!”
“She will, eh? I’ll help too, you know,” Joe told the little pegasus.
“I know that! Now we not having to drive all the time, you should have more time for flying lessons, right?” Sara asked.
Joe hugged Sara with a wing. “All depends on what they have us doing, Sara. You bet I’ll try, but there are more pegasi here than just you and me. Maybe I can learn some more that I don’t know yet.”
“Speaking of which,” Ben spoke up, “There is a school here, which us kids are expected to attend, starting next Monday. I was talking with that one pony, Coppertop. He’s about my age, and he says school is classroom work in the morning, and working after lunch, doing what we can do to help. I’m looking forward to that. It will keep us busy.”
“Busy we will be, once we learn all the where’s, what’s and whys,” Marsha said. “Now that we’re here, we’re all expected to pitch in and help get the community working. I’m looking forward to that.’
“Me, too,” Linz added, skritching Trixie with her glow. “I want to learn a lot more about magic than what I can do now. When I told Artie about how I can look through walls, he got very interested.”
“He’s also a fire officer here, and he wants me to train in the use of the fire gear. Not that they have had to USE any yet, but better to know and not need than the other way around.,” Joe said. “Before, he wasn’t an officer, just a junior fireman, and he hasn’t fought a fire in years.”
“That’s a rough idea of what we will be doing, then,” Linz said. “Alex said she wants to get in touch with the Lundquists and set up some sort of trade. If it wasn’t for Artie these last few months, Alexandria would be far worse off. The winter was hard, and they needed supplies. Good thing he could get some.”
“That subway tunnel thing is freaky!” Danny exclaimed. “It made me all tingly when we went through that one time!”
“Yeah! Walking into a mirror is creepy!” Sara added, her wings fluttering a little.
Joe smiled at the kids. “How do you think I felt, when I had to drive into it?” he said with a laugh. “I thought I was going to crash into something, but I put as much faith in Artie as I do in flying, and it saved us some traveling, right?”
“It did, Joe,” Marsha said. “Too bad he could not have come for us earlier.”
“But, if he did, you would not have found me, or Mary, Sara and Danny,” Ben pointed out.
“Artie said he can only go to where he has been. He could have picked us all up at the firehouse in Nanuet, but he was busy at the time, visiting Sudden Storm and her folk in Toronto,” Linz said. “If he wants to go to the orchard, we’ll have to take him there first, before he can make a gateway there.”
“We’ll probably do that, in a couple of days,” Joe said. “We have to bring the Lundquists a satphone and a charger system when we do.”
“One good thing about being here is that they will give me the chance to bake some more bread, and of different types, too,” Linz added. “Baking bread keeps me sane.”
“And you make GOOD bread, Miss Linz!” Sara said gleefully.
The next day, the crew were met by Artie in the morning and brought to breakfast, showing the crew the way to and from the chow hall. After that, the group broke up for more interviews, the foals going with the schoolteacher for quizzing, Ben to the security department for firearms safety instruction (not that he needed it, but Alex wanted their firearms secured), Marsha to the farming detail, Linz to Mystic Rune for magic testing, and Joe paired with Artie, to get the Patrol in the service bay, then to the firehouse for some talk.
“You were at the tanker rollover in seventy-seven?” Joe asked. “My father told me about that!”
“Oh, I was there, all right. Twelve departments, twenty trucks, six hours, three big tow trucks and two mini-cranes later, we got the tanker uprighted. I was less than fifty feet away from the ass end when they rolled it up on its tires,” Artie said, with the faraway look of someone recalling old memories.
“I haven’t been to anything like that, but I have been to some signal twelves I would rather forget about,” Joe said, referring to the fire code for a major fire. “Do you remember my father?”
Artie shook his head. “No, can’t say I do. If he was a freshman when I was a senior, we may have met, but I didn’t know him. The name doesn’t ring a bell. Town Clerk, you said?”
“Ever since I was in elementary school,” Joe confirmed.
“He may know my cousin, then. He was town attorney, then a county judge.”
“Victor Capobianco? I’ve met him. In a good way, of course!” Joe hastily added. “I’ve never been to court, not even traffic court.”
“Good for you. Keep it that way, kid. Now, tell me about this mad dog vet you found in Ohio,” Artie said bluntly. Joe proceeded to give Artie chapter and verse about their meeting with Doctor Petermann. After the recital, Artie nodded. “Got word this morning from your prep team. They encountered the mad dog where you did and had a rather violent confrontation. Safe to say, the mad dog will not be a problem to anyone anymore.”
“What happened?” Joe asked.
“He was found alive but battered from your encounter with him. When your prep team tried to help, he whipped out a pistol and started shooting. One injury on the good guys team, and Doctor Mad Dog was promptly stomped to a bloody pulp,” Artie reported.
Joe sighed and closed his eyes, bowing his head. “I regret the necessity of it, but it could not have happened to a nicer mutt.”
“Keep up that attitude, kid. There ain’t enough of us left to keep repeatin’ the mistakes of the old world. We gots to live in da new. Let’s do it right,” Artie said in as soothing a voice as he could manage.
“Nicely said, Artie. Now, where can we take the Patrol for a tune up?” Joe asked.
Artie brought Joe back to the Patrol and guided him to the town’s garage, introducing him to Amy, one of the mechanics. Amy looked over the vehicle and told them it would be ready in two days, if they cleared the possessions from it. That took Joe and Artie an hour to do, making more than one trip back and forth from the garage to the housing district.
Author's Note
Finally- at the promised land. Time to pitch in and get to work. And stop driving
Peregrination to the Promised Land
Chapter Twelve- Settling In
By the start of the next week, Joe and Linz were fully integrated into the community, getting a house and jobs. Marsha and Ben moved out, Marsha going to one of the communal bunkhouses and Ben moving in with another diamond dog. The foals were to remain with Joe and Linz, because the foals asked to. Joe and Linz did not mind, it enabled them to get better housing than they would have.
The kids were placed into the school, Linz took a position working part-time at the library and the hospital, and Joe was slated for weather training and other duties. That Monday, Joe and Artie set out for the Lundquist’s orchard, fortunately making it in under a day. The Lundquists welcomed Joe’s return, and Artie thought to bring along a package for them, mainly a crank-up radio and a satphone, along with charging cables so the phone could be recharged from the tractor. Vern and Daisy insisted they spend the night, so they did, getting Artie caught up on the state of the orchard, and Artie telling about the plans Alexandria had for them. Artie was not supposed to be the ‘ambassador’, but since the couple insisted they stay and talk, he got drafted into it.
The next day, Artie telegated the Patrol back to Alexandria, returning a little later with four ponies who were interested in working the farm, which the couple were happy for. A shuttle arrangement was arranged, to bring apples and other produce to Alexandria, and finished goods, materials and ponies to the orchard. Alex herself came along that next day, to finalize the arrangements and enjoy some fresh apples for herself.
Once back in Alexandria, Artie sought out Joe. “You would saddle me with extra work…” he said drily. At Joe’s puzzled expression, Artie explained about the every couple of days telegate to the orchard, in addition to his regular duties. “Tell you what, kid. You take over at the fire department, and I won’t slap the stupid out of you for giving me the extra woik!”
“Deal!” Joe said, hoofbumping the startled unicorn.
“Okay, Lieutenant, I’ll let the chief know. I’ll go back to the ranks, you can do the leading.”
“Don’t like leading, Artie?” Joe asked.
“Heck, no! If I make a mistake while leading, we all suffer. If I make a mistake by myself, I pay for it.” Artie said in reply. “Besides, a leader I ain’t. I’ll leave that to those crazy enough to try.”
“Are you calling me crazy?” Joe snapped back.
“If you’re crazy, what does that make me? A paragon of sanity?”
At night, after the kids were put to bed, Joe and Linz had time to sit and cuddle together, under Trixie’s supervision, of course. “How was your day, love?” Joe asked.
“Wonderful. Doctor Oliver is a good teacher at the hospital, and the Equestrian information is such a challenge to read and practice. Within a month or so, Oliver will clear me for assistant nurse duties, and I can start working at the hospital for real. How about you?” Linz asked in return.
Joe told about his trip to the Lundquist’s, and his chats with Rapid Transit. “He tries to come across as a sarcastic ass, but he’s really a good fellow inside. He’s just afraid to show it.”
“I’m going to have to get to know him better. The kids are settling in to school. Danny says it’s not boring, they get to do things, not just sit in a classroom all day,” Linz reported.
“Do you like looking after them?”
“I don’t mind being a foster mother to them. They need someone to look after them in this strange new world. Think maybe we could give them a brother or sister?” Linz asked with a coy smile.
“If we have not got one started already, we ought to try some more!” Joe said with a smile.
“Ready when you are, my big red stallion!”
About three weeks after they arrived, the prep team pulled in, led by George Wilkins. They arrived in two City of New York panel trucks, the paint jobs faded some, but the trucks ran well. After debriefing, the team was given the freedom of the town. George immediately sought out Joe for a chat.
“Your trailblazing idea worked wonders, Joe. We had no problems following the trail, and we took the time to clear the lanes completely the whole way through,” George said after greetings at the firehouse.
“How did you get past the mad dog in Wheeling?” Joe asked.
“We set up camp east of Wheeling, and Yuri and I flew over to check out the campground,” Yuri being one of the griffins in New York, a former deli worker. “Yuri brought his rifle along, and held back when I went in close. The camp was a wreck, and so was the dog. When he took a couple of shots at me, Yuri lined up a shot and managed to get him twice, once in the leg, once in his gun arm. When the dog dropped his gun, I flew in and stomped the snot out of him. That dog, all he was bitching about after was that he wanted to dissect a griffin, so Yuri took him out to the bone pit and buried him there,” George explained.
“Buried him alive?” Joe asked.
George sat back on his haunches, looking thoughtful. “You know, I didn’t ask. I was on the phone, calling Sadie and having her bring the team across. When Yuri told me the damn dog was taken care of, I took him at his word. We built a base camp along 70 in Triadelphia and left a message saying to be real careful the next twenty miles, taking 470 around the city and the flooded tunnel. The next camp we built is in Morristown, at a truck stop there.”
“You going to go back to New York, or stay here?” Joe asked. “What about the main caravan?”
“A team of eighteen left New York a month after we did, taking it slow. No powered vehicles, just pony-drawn trailers and wagons. They’re taking the slow route, because Fred’s got farms started in Central Park, and wants to stay there. Next spring, they will start spreading out through the city, converting other parks to farms,” George reported. “They should be here before fall hits. At last report, they were south of Pittsburgh.
“As for me, I have a week to decide. Right now, I want to stop driving and stay put for a while, before thinking about moving on. If I do go back, I just might bring another wave out this way, depending on what’s going on back in the city,” George said.
“I can definitely understand that, George. We’ll see what happens later. Find any strays along the way?” Joe asked.
George nodded. “Five, all singles, in different places. We brought them along.”
George did leave the next week, bringing copies of Equestrian texts along to keep in New York, for basic training. He did promise to return, hopefully before the snow flies. Six other ponies went with him, either returning to New York or going along because they wanted to travel about while the ability was there to travel.
The second month after arriving, Linz reported she was pregnant with a foal, about the same time Artie’s wife, Soaring Heart, said she was pregnant as well. That night found Joe and Artie at the bar, trying to drink off the shock of becoming fathers. They were on their second beer each when the alarm horn started to howl.
“That’s the tornado alarm! Pardon me, Artie, but time to fly!” Joe said, getting up. “It was a dark and stormy night…” he muttered.
“I think I’ll call you Sky Hook, not Bulwer-Lytton, like others already are!” Artie called back as he got up, heading for the fire station.
Joe went to the weather room, where he found that a tornado was spotted and called in about three miles away and closing. He was detailed with a squad of other pegasi to divert it away from town. It was a struggle, in the rain, wind and darkness, but the team of pegasi managed to push the storm so it would pass south of Alexandria instead of through it. After, the storm team checked the path of damage, making sure no pony was trapped. Good thing they did, because a tree had come down atop a house, and it blocked the storm cellar. Joe got a grip on the trunk and lifted for all he was worth, causing the tree to shift, rolling free of the cellar door. Spent, he flopped on the ground, heedless of the wet and chill. One of his squad mates landed nearby.
“Are you okay, Sky Hook?” he was asked.
“Moving that tree took about all I had. Everypony all right?” Joe puffed.
“From the house, yes. One weather squad has not reported in yet. We’re looking for them now,” his squad mate, Ivan Gotyeroksov, a yellow and black pegasus with an eye for the ladies told him. “You rest, and we’ll call if we need you, okay?”
“Deal, Ivan,” Joe said before letting himself go limp, not caring about the damp, muddy ground he was sprawled in, too tired to really give a good goddamn.
Joe was woken up some time later by someone shaking him. He opened his eyes to find he was in a covered wagon, dried off, on a soft pad. “Wake up, Sky Hook!” he heard as he was shaken again.
Joe opened an eye to see Toni Burke, a young pink and green unicorn who is part of the fire department, shaking him with her glow. “We found the weather squad, but one of them needs an airlift. Can you handle it?” she asked his open eye, looking worried.
“Where they at?” Joe muttered, fighting to shake off his lethargy and winning.
“Almost in Vermilion,” a town a little east and south of Alexandria. “Dale and Jack are all right, but Julie got blown through a tree and broke a wing. They can’t get back here with her. Using Channel Six for guidance,” Ivan told Joe as he got up and stretched some. “Ready when you are.”
“Going to fly wing for me?” Joe asked.
“In this weather? Hell, yes!”
“Knew you were smart, Ivan. Let’s get this done so I can get some sleep,” Joe said as he took off, Ivan at his side.
“Got it, Sky Hook!”
The flight out was a challenge, both with the dark and the turbulence in the wake of the tornado. That’s why Ivan offered to fly wing pony, to help cope with the challenges. Ivan spotted the other team’s beacon first, near a big old willow tree. Upon landing, they found that the two stallions had bandaged and splinted the mare’s wing and had bound her wings with cloth. Joe hovered over the mare, got a grip on her with all four hooves, and with some effort managed to get up off the ground. “Thanks for the pickup, Sky Hook,” Julie said once airborne.
“Hey, friends help friends. I’ll take you direct to the hospital. I don’t like the blood I saw on the bandages,” Joe said as he maintained flight with only occasional wing flaps, gliding as much as he could.
“Be glad you can’t feel it. How did the rescue go?” Julie asked.
“Well. I got the tree moved, freeing the trapped ponies. The house will need some work, but at least it won’t have to be razed,” Joe muttered, concentrating more on staying airborne.
“Good to hear,” Julie grunted as a bump made her wince some.
The rest of the flight went quietly, the other three pegasi taking point. Dropping Julie at the hospital, Joe flew straight home, where after reassuring the kids all was okay, he went right to bed, pausing only long enough to dry off before flopping onto the mattress. If he didn’t do that, Linz would give him hell for at least two days.
Joe did not wake up until well after dawn, to find the house empty, a note on the table telling him to go to the hospital after breakfast, which was thoughtfully left out for him, along with a big insulated mug of coffee, done the way he liked it.
Checking in at the hospital, Joe was examined by Doctor Oliver, who pronounced him fit for duty, after his nap. Julie, Joe found, will be out of action for a couple of weeks while her wing heals, and the ponies in the house he removed the tree from were all fine. Reporting in for work, he was assigned to the crew who was removing the tree that had come down. Joe spent the rest of the day removing logs from the site, either piling some there, or hauling wood back to town for drying.
That night, at home, Joe got to explain to Linz and the kids his version of what happened the night before, after which they all told him the version they heard. “My new dad is the best pony in Alexandria!” Danny exclaimed, backed up by both Sara and Mary. “He saves other ponies that need help!”
“Just doing my job, kids…” Joe said, blushing brightly.
“You do it good, Dad!” Danny shouted. “I’m going to join the fire brigade when I’m old enough, so I can be like you, helping ponies that need it!”
“I won’t stop you, Danny, but what does your new mom think?” Joe asked.
“His new mom says that’s a good idea, if he wants. Maybe he will become smart enough to learn spells that are good for firefighting,” Linz said with a smile. “Some classes with Mystic Rune should help that.”
Danny grimaced. “Do I have to, mom? He’s such an ass as a teacher!”
“If you can’t come up with spells on your own, Danny, you’ll have to go to him for lessons,” Joe advised after a chunk of bread.
“I’ll work hard, Dad!” Danny said earnestly as Sara raised a hoof. “I want to learn what you do too, Dad. Soaring Heart says I’m getting good at flying.”
Linz let out a chuckle. “Looks like it’s ‘take your kids to work day’ tomorrow, Sky Hook,” she said, Trixie meowing in agreement.
“When it’s least expected, you’re elected…” Joe sighed as he finished his dinner.
“You’re the star today, Dad!” Mary said with a smile.
Author's Note
This finishes this tale. I'm sure I'll do more with these ponies, sometime.
Peregrination to the Promised Land
Chapter Seven- Who Let the Dogs Out?
Leaving Allentown about ten the next morning, after Joe went to paint in road markings for the prep teams, their next target is Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. On Ben’s advice, they left I-78 to take US-22, because there were few exits between the two cities, and if they wanted to forage, 22 would be the better bet. Yes, better foraging, but worse road conditions. Road conditions bad enough so that by late afternoon, they had only made it as far as Jonestown.
Conditions grew even worse the next day, when they found the bridge over a big creek west of town had washed out in some earlier flood, to the point where Joe did not want to drive over what was left. As a result, they had to backtrack a few miles to find an on-ramp to the Interstate. After that, it was decided that they would stick to the Interstates unless they saw something worth exploring.
That plan lasted all through Pennsylvania, following I-76 until it merged with I-70, then keeping on going west, bypassing Pittsburg. Their next major issue came up three days later, in Wheeling, West Virginia.
On the drive, Ben proved himself a willing and eager member of the group, always happy to help on any task given to him. He always minded Joe’s words, and most often would listen to Marsha and Linz without many questions. He was willing to take night watches when camping, and generally slept while on the road, curled up in the bedding with Trixie watching over him. Caring and feeding of the chubby pup proved easy, he eating a lot of what the ponies did not want, and refrained from snacking much on the road, because the smell of meat products proved too intense for the ponies, except for the dried jerky. Slim Jim’s, though, were right out.
In Wheeling, I-70 went through a tunnel in town that went under a park close to the Ohio River. Approaching the tunnel, Marsha, who was driving, slowed to a stop about a hundred yards away. Joe woke up Ben and the two took some lights to check out the tunnel. As Joe had thought, the tunnel was flooded to a point where it was not possible to drive through. They went back to the bus to check out the maps they had picked up at their last stop, which was just before the Pennsylvania/West Virginia state line.
“Looks like the best way is to turn around here, take the US-250 south to I-470, head west to cross the river, then come back upriver on this highway 7 to I-70 again,” Joe said, tapping the local map with a wingtip.
Linz looked a bit worried. “Joe, I think you should scout ahead. If that tunnel was flooded, maybe the river did a number on the bridges and routes around here. I’d feel safer if you checked things out,” she said quietly, clearly unhappy about something.
Joe put his wing around Linz, to allay her worries. He’s been having to do a lot of that lately, both to Linz and Ben. “That sounds like a very good idea, Linz. Besides, I’ll have to mark the detour on the signage for the prep teams.”
“Take your radio, Joe. There’s something about this city that is making me very nervous,” Linz said in a near whisper.
“All the more reason to get started, right? Ben, go back to napping. Keep the radio here on. I’ll keep up a running commentary, okay?” Joe said, heading for the door. His paint pack is stowed in the rear equipment bay, so the paint smells would not contaminate the cabin.
Marsha spoke up from the driver’s seat. “You got it, Eight-Nine,” she said, using Joe’s radio call sign to drive home the point he was the leader of the herd.
Joe got his pack on, then clipped the microphone of his radio to a strap near his throat, so he would not have to push the button to talk while he worked and flew. He made the marks on the first set of signs, directing traffic off I-70 before the tunnel, then proceeded along the path. The river was indeed high, some of the banks showing flooding traces when the water was even higher. The bridges appeared sound, but the route 7 they planned to take appeared wet still. “Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol. Don’t take Route 7. Stay on 470 until it remerges with 70. I’m going to scout the way there and see if there are any obstacles that we’ll need to clear before we reach 70. I’ll join you at the merger.”
“Eight-Patrol to Eight-Nine. Copy that,” Marsha said as she put the Patrol in gear and headed out.
Joe flew on, inspecting I-470 all the way to I-70, seeing nothing that would warrant landing and clearing out. No big trees had crossed the road, just branches that could be dodged and some puddles from the last rain. He also checked for habitation, more out of habit than anything else. Except for Ben, they have not found any signs of anybody.
Nearing the junction of 470 and 70, Joe spotted some smoke coming from a building off to his right and ahead, some thick black smoke. Calling in the sighting, he flew in to look. What he found was a bonfire, and a humanlike figure off to one side, binoculars to its face, waving at him with the other hand. Joe closed in, and the figure resolved into a doglike figure, wearing a white coat and boxer shorts, with some sort of boot like arrangement on its foot paws. Curious, Joe landed some feet away.
The dog lowered the binoculars, letting them hang from a strap around its neck. “Hello, I’m Pete Petermann, the vet here. You’re the first intelligent being I have found since I woke up here like this,” the dog said, holding out a paw.
Joe looked over the dog- he looked like an upright Doberman, with a slightly more muscular build. He also stood a good foot taller than Joe. He held out a hoof and ‘shook hands.’ “I’m Joe Velloti. Some friends and I are passing through the area. How did you know I was here?” he asked.
“Red wings against a white cloud is a sure sign. I had been looking up as I fed the chickens and saw you flying. I ran here to light my signal fire. First time since fall that I had to. So, you’re a pegasus, like that Sudden Storm lady,” Pete said with a smile. “Must be fun.”
Joe relaxed visibly when Pete mentioned Sudden Storm. “It is, believe me. Let me call in to my friends.”
At Pete’s gesture, he did. “Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol.”
“Eight-Patrol. Go ahead, Eight-Nine,” Marsha replied.
“What’s your twenty?”
“Just past the High Ridge Road exit. See the smoke?”
“Yes, and found a veterinarian clinic, and a vet. Follow the freeway to the junction, then take 70 EAST, take the first exit and follow the smoke, Marsha. Details to follow when you get here.”
“Eight-Patrol ten-four.”
The dog and pony chatted while waiting for the red bus to arrive, Pete explaining he had been awake at home when the flash happened, and came back ‘some time later’, as he was now. He made his way to the clinic, to find all the animals in cages dead from starvation, and had been that way for some time, by the looks of things. He had buried all the dead animals in a pit, which became his fire beacon pit. Joe started to tell his awakening story but had only got as far as his discovering how to fly before the Patrol arrived, Marsha driving.
Pete looked on with a bit of a startled look as everyone got out, staring some at Ben when he exited. “So, I’m not the only dog…” he whispered.
“No, you’re not. We found Ben there in Allentown, Marsha is from Harlem, and Linz from my hometown. We’re making our way to Alexandria, where a colony is forming. I’m sure we can find room for you, or you can wait for the follow-up team,” Joe told him.
“The follow-up team will be better. I won’t be ready to move from here for a while yet. I do have livestock here to care for,” Pete said as the others approached.
After introductions, Pete led the team into the waiting room, where they could all sit and chat. A wood-burning stove sat in one corner, with a chimney flue extending through a hole battered through the wall and chinked with some sort of putty. Once seated, Pete gently asked them about their stories, what they could do, and what supplies they had. He offered to examine everyone in exchange for anything they found they could swap out, offering medical supplies and training as well.
Joe and Ben offered to go check their supplies while Pete examined Linz and Marsha. Once that was agreed upon, the two males went out to the patrol bus. Once inside, Ben looked at Joe, worried. “I don’t like what I’m feeling from him, Joe. The way he looks at us, I can’t tell if he’s thinking of us as people, ponies, or lab animals.”
“I get the same feelings, too. I also don’t like how he looks at you. It’s like he wants you to stay, but what for? As another dog, or as a test subject? That’s the feelings I get,” Joe said as he checked over their supplies. “I can’t tell if he’s a lonely vet, or the reincarnation of Josef Mengele.”
“I would say more like Doctor Frankenstein, myself. At least he’s offering us a good lunch. I haven’t had eggs in a long time,” Ben said. “Eggs and fresh roast chicken.”
“You’re still on a diet, Ben. You’ve lost two pounds so far, with a long way to go,” Joe said seriously, poking Ben in his flabby stomach with a wing.
“I can’t help it if I’m hungry all the time!” Ben whined, his tail and ears drooping.
“You know that won’t work on us, Ben,” Joe told him as he took inventory.
Joe found his exam to be thorough, if a bit cold. Apparently, Doctor Petermann does not have a good bedside manner. Joe forgave him that, because he was sure Pete was not used to having patients that could talk back. Pete was very fascinated with Joe’s wings, asking a lot of questions about how they worked, and how such little wings could allow flight, to which gave his stock answer, “I don’t have to know HOW it works, I just know they DO work. Just trust in the magic and let it work.”
“That’s what I gathered from Sudden Storm’s news broadcasts. She’s a pegasus and talks about what it’s like to fly. Too bad I can’t figure out a way to call her,” Pete said as he was putting his exam tools up. “I don’t have a satellite phone.”
“I’ll talk to the others and see if we can give you one of ours. I’m sure we can find another one before we reach Columbus,” Joe offered.
“You could, but how can I keep it charged? No power,” Pete pointed out.
“Good point. We don’t have a spare generator. Why don’t you go to Wheeling and see what you can scavenge?” Joe asked.
Pete sighed as he closed the cabinets. “I feel uncomfortable if I go too far away from here. Being alone and leaving home makes me want to hurry back. The farthest I’ve been able to go is about three miles. I’ve had enough to live from within that radius, but so far, no generators. Maybe if I’m with someone, I could go farther.”
“Let me talk to the others. If you like, we can stay a couple of days, and tomorrow, we’ll go to Wheeling and see if we can find you some necessities you have been doing without,” Joe told the vet.
“If you would, I would like that. I won’t make you, but I would appreciate it. Right now, I have dinner to prepare for you all. Roast chicken for me and Benjamin, and mixed green omels for the rest of you.”
“Omels? What’s an omel?” Joe asked, baffled by the word.
Pete grinned, the first real smile Joe had seen on the Doberman’s face. Even that looked menacing. “Why, a grown-up omelet, of course! I have lots of eggs and some greens I’m sure you would enjoy!”
“Add in some fresh bread, and that sounds good!”
While Pete cooked with some help from Ben, Joe gathered Linz and Marsha in the Patrol and asked for opinions. Linz was first to speak, Trixie rubbing her legs. “I don’t like him, Joe. He asked a lot of snoopy questions about me and my magic. I showed him what I could do on my own, but I didn’t tell him how much Trixie seems to assist me. In fact, I didn’t tell him about Trix at all.”
“I know I didn’t say anything about Trixie,” Marsha added. “He asked me about how strong I was, and I asked him if he wanted the building bucked down. He stopped asking me after that and got very wary around me.”
“I know Ben does not like him, and neither do I. However, he is a survivor, and I feel we should offer him one trip to Wheeling to gather supplies before we leave. We can do that tomorrow. Linz, you, Ben and Trixie stay here while Marsha and I take Pete to town and scavenge. I’ll want to refuel doing so, too,” Joe said, coming to a decision.
“That will give me some time to look around the compound. He said he’s been here alone since the fall, but I don’t feel like that’s true,” Linz said, looking concerned as she unpacked her bread-making supplies. While the fire grill was hot after cooking the chickens and omelets, she could do up a quick flatbread mix.
“You up to doing so, Linz?” Marsha asked. “You don’t like being away from Joe.”
“I’ll have Ben and Trixie with me. I’m sure I can manage a few hours away from Joe.”
“We both know it will be necessary. Unpleasant, but necessary,” Joe said, putting a wing around Linz. “We’ll manage, right?”
Trixie let out a meow as she pronked to Joe and wrapped herself around one of his fetlocks. “Well, Trixie thinks so!” Linz said with a smile, leaning into the hug.
During dinner, Joe informed Pete of the plans they had come up with for the next day. “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Pete said. “I just hope this syndrome will be ameliorated by the presence of others. I know some places in Wheeling we could look at, if we can get to them.”
“Do you have any ideas on what you can use, Pete?” Marsha asked after a mouthful of what she had to admit was a damned good omelet. Fresh eggs are a definite welcome addition to their diet.
“I’ll have a list in the morning, before we go. I’m sorry that I don’t exactly have the best accommodations for you all over the next couple of days, but then again, I did not expect any company to drop in,” Pete said apologetically, but his expression did not match his tones.
“We’ll manage,” Linz said. “We have to help each other in the ways we can. A good dinner and a secure place to sleep, without needing a guard, is always welcome, Pete.”
“Indeed, it is. Until I got my bunk area secured, I slept with one eye open and a shotgun loaded with rock salt within reach. Saved my furry ass the first few times feral dogs dropped in. Just before the first snow, they stopped bothering me,” Pete explained.
“Were you in the Army, Doctor Petermann?” Ben asked.
“Navy Reserve. ROTC through high school and vet school, and two tours in Afghanistan, taking care of the canines. Over there, you always learn to be alert and aware, or else you may not come home,” Pete said, waving a paw at the trees just starting to show leaves. “I’ve lived here all my life, within a hundred miles of here. I came here after vet school because they had an opening.”
“I never did any time in the military,” Joe said after some bread and eggs. “But I can see where it would be helpful here. Thank you for your service and thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome, all of you. Now, allow me to handle cleaning up, and you all get set for the night. I burn trash, so forgive odd odors for a while. Oh, and don’t forget to feed your cat. There’s enough leftovers for her to enjoy,” Pete told the ponies.
Linz looked startled. “How did you know we have a cat?” she asked. Pete just tapped his nose and smiled as he got up.
“Time for us to call in to Belvedere. Fred will want to know what’s been going on,” Marsha observed as she got to her hooves.
“While I should get to sleep early, because I’ll have to wake at rooster crow to scout the route back to Wheeling. Can we take I-70 direct, or go back along the 470? That will determine our best searching places,” Joe said as he stood and stretched.
Pete smiled. “Actually, we won’t have to go to Wheeling. There’s a Wal-Mart and a mall less than a mile that way,” he said, pointing northwesterly. “The best thing for me would be use of the bus to haul back some stuff that is too hard to carry. If we can find enough crates for them, I’ll gift you with as many eggs as you can store. Deal?”
A glance quickly bounced around the ponies. “Sounds like a deal to me!” Joe said with a sigh of relief. “Sleeping in sounds like a good thing!”
After dinner clean up, the ponies pitched their big tent in the parking lot, so they would not have to sleep in the bus. No rain expected, so why not? Marsha set up her music player, and they all gathered to talk under cover of Bach.
“All of us agree that Pete is as fishy as an aquarium, but we should help him out. One load of supplies, and we bingo out. Hopefully, we can get a good distance away before stopping. When I fly up and over to check the route, I’ll look as far west as I can. Hopefully there won’t be too many obstacles.
“Linz, you, Trixie and Ben stay here while Marsha and I take Pete shopping. The fewer ponies along, the more room we’ll have for cargo. That and setting up your bake shop will be our reasoning. Ben, I want you to snoop around some, to see what you can learn. Any questions?” Joe asked when he finished.
Ben raised a paw. “Yeah, what should we do if we find anything off color?”
“Linz can text me on the phone. Marsha and I will remain close to him, and if necessary, we’ll bug out as fast as we can, get in the bus and pick you all up before de-assing the area with alacrity. Let’s all stay alert and hope nothing goes wrong, okay?”
Marcia muttered, “Alert, alert, the world needs more lerts…”
Joe nodded in agreement, snorting some. “Lerts yes, assholes no. Cross your hooves and let’s get some sleep,” he ordered, snuggling close to Linz, Trixie finding a space to cuddle up in with them. It did get chilly at night, but they had plenty of blankets to keep warm with.
Author's Note
Another survivor found. Good news or bad news?
