A Clap of Thunder

Consciousness came and went like a revolving door. The green shape and the red shape were there pretty often, but they weren’t the only ones. A yellow shape, a pink shape. A pair of shapes that always came and went together. Sometimes, my vision was clear to see a huge stallion, a lovely mare, a couple of kids, an older lady. But that’s it.

The thing I wished the most was for the dreams to stop. I hated seeing those dreams. They always started the same way.

A stallion walks in from behind a curtain. I’m hidden in a corner of the room somewhere, a little wooden toy in my hooves, trying my hardest to be still and silent. Mom greets him, way more friendly than she would normally, but this isn’t somepony I know.

She’s left a wreck on a mattress and the stallion walks away.

The dream starts over and repeats, but it’s always a different stallion. Once, it was that stupid politician. Another time, it was the boss. The last time, it was the unicorn Bird’s Eye. While he was with mom, he looked at me, like he could see me in my hiding place, knew I was there.

“I’ll find you,” he cooed.

Slap, slap.

“And after I get you…”

Slap, slap.

“He’s next…”

He put a bag over mom’s head, a rope around her neck.

I tried to call out, tried to run and stop him, but I was stuck in a hole just big enough for me to fit inside. Not an inch to move, barely enough room to breathe, and every time I did, a needle would stab me.

He was at the fountain in my old neighborhood. It hadn’t run in forever, and the water was stagnant and swampy, but it was just deep enough to drown in.

Bird’s Eye smiled at me. “You know what happens next, don’t you?”

I tried to open my mouth, I tried to scream, but nothing would come out.

Please, don’t do this to her, she didn’t do anything to you!

But Mom went under. She didn’t even struggle. Bird’s Eye held her down as the bubbles rose to the surface, quickly at first, then slower and slower.

You have to fight back! You can’t let him keep doing this to you! Mom, please!

“Mom!”

I sat up and immediately regretted it. “Mother fucker!”

Pain blossomed in my side. I moved my right hoof to stop it, but that, too, flowered into burning agony.

“Well, he’s up,” a concerned but dejected feminine voice called from beside me.

“Thanks, Sugar, but Ah’m sure the whole house knows it now,” a much deeper, gruff, masculine voice called back.

As the pain receded, I could feel the air of a massive stallion nearby.

A cup was put to my lips. “Here, boy, drink this. It should make ya feel better.”

Anything to make the pain go away. I didn’t even question the bitter taste. Once it was all gone, I sank back into the pillow and croaked, “Thank you.”

A huge red head with a leafy green beard and mane appeared above me. “You’re welcome enough, but ya’ve gotta stop cursin’. The kids don’t need that kinda language in their ears.”

It took a moment for me to register I was talking to somepony. The face was so foreign that I couldn’t place it anywhere. Nothing like the ponies I used to know, nothing like the ponies I’d even seen around Manehattan. The golden irises glaring down at me were mesmerizing. I’ve never seen a color quite like that.

“Oh, sorry.”

“At least you’re alert fer once. What’s yer name, boy?”

“Boy?” I tried to sit up to declare how offended I was, but got a sharp reminder that my right side was very injured. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

“Boy, if ya don’t stop that, I’ll give ya somethin’ ta really make ya curse.”

“Come on, Pa, let him be fer now,” The mare intervened. “This is the first time he’s been conscious in ten days.”

“Ten days!?” I nearly shot up, but stopped the moment the first wave of pain caught me.

“Stay down!” the stallion commanded. “You’re not in shape enough ta sit up yet, boy.”

When the pain had cleared enough to give me focus again, another set of those golden eyes stared back at me. Only, these were softer. Gentler, kinder, nicer eyes than that stallion’s. These were the kind of eyes you could get lost in.

To make sure they were real, I figured out which foreleg still worked and reached up to touch the face attached to them. “What… beautiful eyes.”

She went from bright green to beet red in an instant and backed off. “M-maybe he ain’t so alert as we thought.”

The stallion grunted. “He’d better be.” He clapped his hooves by my ear, and my head turned to face them. “Ya got a name, kid?”

Boy. Kid. This old man has no idea who I am. I’ve killed ponies bigger than him before, I—

It hit me like a brick to the face.

I left Manehattan on a train. How did I get here? Where is here? Who are these ponies? That’s right. Undertaker has to disappear. I can’t even be the pony I was in Manehattan. Do I have a name? I always thought I’d figure it out later, but I need it now.

I looked around the room for anything I could find. Unpainted, maybe varnished wood made up the little box. A carved stick had a plastic bag stuck to it filled with water. A little tube ran down it and… oh, geez. It disappeared under a ton of gauze wrapped all around my body. Left hind leg tied to sticks, right foreleg tied to sticks, a huge patch over the right side of my barrel. What the hell happened?

The piercing gold eyes were still waiting on me, and growing impatient.

“I’m sorry, sir, my head’s a little messed up still. I can’t quite remember.”

The old man raised a brow. This was not the guy to bullshit. There is no way he didn’t know I was lying, but he didn’t press me on it. Instead, he held his stare as he rubbed his beard. “Well, Ah suppose ya had a pretty nasty head wound when we found ya. Figured I’d have an unmarked grave on the property after too long, but ya pulled through somehow.”

“Pa!” the mare chided. Green coat the same color as the stallion’s beard, pale yellow braids along either side of her head beneath an apple print bonnet. Hoofmade, by the looks of it. And those eyes…

She turned to me and put a reassuring hoof on my good one. “Oh, don’t listen ta him. Pa used ta be a field medic, he’ll see ya through.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Though, ya really were awful messed up when we found ya out in the woods.”

Woods? What woods was I near? I thought I was headed south somewhere. “Uh, look, guys, I really don’t remember much of anything. What happened, where I am, who you are. Ya mind filling me in?”

The old man raised that brow again. “Sure didn’t forget how ta talk like a Manehattanite.” The big red stallion crossed his forelegs and closed his eyes. “Ya were on a south bound cargo train that had the unfortunate timin’ ta cross under a rock slide. This kinda thing happens, but they usually avoid incidents like this. Awful unlucky ta hitch a ride like ya did. Train derailed, the drivers were killed when the engine exploded in the crash after it rolled down the mountain.”

I swallowed. “Good Goddess.”

One eye popped open. “You’re damn right. Y’all were lucky enough ta be in an unsecured box and landed on a tree, where Ah assume ya broke yer ribs and foreleg, then hit the ground after a heavy snow, which is uncharacteristically early fer December in Whitetail. Must’ve caught yer hind leg when ya did and managed ta get away with just that. Though, ya had a whole bottle of our liquor in yer system, so Ah’m a bit surprised that didn’t kill ya first. Then again, maybe bein’ blackout drunk saved yer life too. Body limp, easy ta bend. Probably kept ya from bein’ any worse.”

Oh. I should be very dead right now.

The mare… Annie, I think, coughed into her hoof angrily at her father. “What Pa means ta say is that ya should be thankful we were out gatherin’ wood when we were. We saw the whole crash from start ta finish. We couldn’t save the drivers, but Ah spotted ya a few yards off from that empty car. You’re awful lucky ta be alive.”

Luck is one thing to call it, I guess. Two broken limbs and a few broken ribs, and all I got was this shirt.

Awareness caught me and I scanned the room. It wasn’t there. “You… didn’t happen to find anything with me did you? Like, a—”

‘Pa’ knocked his hoof on the wall. “Ya know, that reminds me. What’s an early twenty somethin’s kid doin’ with a couple thousand bits and a ukulele?”

I frowned.

“Pa, please.”

A look passed between the two goilden-eyed ponies, and begrudgingly, the stallion turned away.

Out of the pan and into the fire. He doesn’t want me cursing in the house, he’s perceptive, and he’s got my number. I am going to have to find a way to be honest with this guy without letting the truth out, and that’s a tall order. With my legs and ribs like this, I’m not going anywhere any time soon, either. Let’s just hope he’s not a colt scout too.

“Look, sir, I really don’t care about the money. My… father had run into some trouble in the city and he wanted to protect me, so he sent me away as quietly as he could. The Uke and the pendant are all I really care about. You can keep the cash as payment for this and everything else I’m gonna need, alright?”

The old man tilted his head. “Sounds like yer head’s all clear now. What was that name again?”

Fuck. What did she say, field medic? Good Goddess, if he’s got ties to the guard, I am so screwed. What is that thing made out of again? And the shovel on my ass, uh… “Spruce Digger, sir. My name is Spruce Digger.”

He frowned. “Is that right?” The massive stallion stood and put his head eye level with me, not a hint of mercy in those mesmerizing golden eyes. “Well, Spruce Digger, Ah’m Rome Apple, and this here is Sweet Apple Acres. We’re an honest bunch on this farm and we like clean, over-the-table deals. Ah won’t take yer money, and Ah’m not about ta abandon a pony in need, but ya eat my food and use my supplies, so ya are gonna pay fer it. It’ll be March by the time you’re healthy enough fer work, but that’s just in time fer plantin’ season, and we could always use an extra hoof around the farm. We understood, Spruce?”

He put a hoof near my left for a shake. No matter where you go, there are always colt scouts stuck in the mud. Lucky is a word for it.

I shook the hoof. “Yes, sir, Mister Rome.”

Rome smiled cold and hard. “Good. Now, you and Ah are gonna get real intimate here in a minute because Ah need ta change yer bandages. If ya wanna keep yer jumblies, Ah suggest ya cooperate and expand yer vocabulary.”

Annie flushed and got up from her seat. The old man winked at her. “Why don’t’cha go get Mister Spruce here some soup, Sugarcube?”

“Y-yes, sir,” she complied quietly.

The moment she was out of the room, Rome shut the door and locked it. He turned around and we were all business now. He picked up a roll of gauze and started with the patch on my chest. “You the kid who killed Clean Slate?”

My heart jumped into my throat.

He sighed. “Don’t answer that. Punks like you don’t have the kinda control on their bodies real politicians do. Yer voice can lie, but yer body can’t. Birdie would have ya on a choppin’ block faster than Ah could right now if he found ya.”

What is going on here? This guy quite literally has me by the balls. What does he want from me?

He started undoing the gauze on my thigh, moving very carefully and very gently as he got down to the break. The whole leg was swollen right around it, and him deftly moving the split as he was still hurt like hell. I didn’t dare make a sound.

“The swelling is bad, but the break was clean. Miracle upon miracle left ya alive long enough ta make it this far. Ah just wonder if helpin’ ya out here is even the right thing ta do.” He glared hard at me, shook his head, then went back to work. “Roll on yer side.”

I didn’t bother hesitating. Not only am I a dead stallion walking, our whole business is gone if I can’t get this guy on my side. He’s one of us, isn’t he? His daughter is an earth pony too. So long as his whole family is, maybe I can convince him it’s for the best if the boss takes over. No more unicorns, no more pegasi on top, but us, after all these centuries. Their magic makes them small-minded, their wings make them careless. We have technology on our side, we have the ponies on our side. Once we build something stronger than them, they could never beat us.

“Look, sir—ack!”

He gently pressed a hoof right on the break in my right foreleg. “Don’t speak. Ah know yer type. You’re a true believer. Ya’ve got reasons ta follow whatever bad ideas are in yer head and whoever put ‘em there. Ah was only in Manehattan fer a little while in my youth, but even then, the corruption was palpable. Can’t imagine what a shit stain it is now.”

He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t get it! If I could just explain it to him, he could see our vision, he could see what the boss sees for us!

I went to open my mouth, but Rome caught my eye and put his hoof right above the break again. Tail between my legs, I remained silent.

“There’s a good boy.” He unwrapped and rewrapped my foreleg in quick silence until he was satisfied with his work. He inspected everything, then threw the sheet back over me. “Ya got any family, Spruce? And Ah mean blood relatives, specifically. Ya can answer this one.”

“No, sir.”

The old man licked his lips. “Better question. Do ya know what yer father’s name was?”

A deep, cold pit burned in my stomach. “No.”

He let air out of his lips. “Typical Manehattanite, alright.”

Rome got off the bed, then sat back down in front of me, looking down on me like some superior being. What an asshole. I swear to the Goddess, I’ll pay you back for this.

“Ah was never one ta kick ponies when they’re down, so fer now, Ah won’t. With all the stuff Ah’m burnin’ ta keep ya alive, Ah figure ya owe me at least a year of service. Ah’ll even do ya a favor and harbor ya like the fugitive ya are till ya pay off yer debt. With Birdie around, ain’t likely ya can ever go back ta Manehattan again anyways. A news article from a few days ago said they’d already frozen the accounts of some real-estate guy who was on track ta build the largest structure in the world.”

No… no, no, no! This can’t be happening! All because some crusty old hoe saw me? Everything we were working toward, it’s all… No, no, that can’t be right. We had the news on our side; how could this guy out in the middle of wherever this is get that kinda news? She said it’s been ten days since the crash, so that means it’s only been two weeks since I left, and three since Clean Slate was put down. The government does not move that fast unless we make it. That can’t be right.

Of course, this equally crusty old fart was practically reading my mind. “Ah know it’s hard ta believe, but on occasion, the good guys do get a win every now and again, far and few between as they are. Ya give me a year, and Ah’ll let ya walk. Ah shouldn’t, really, but Ah can’t help but think you’re just a boy with a bad stallion pullin’ yer strings.”

He put his hoof next to my good one. “Behave well, and we’ll forget ya were ever here. Do we have a deal?”

Damn it, damn it, damn it! What else can I do? What else… was I going to do? Boss told me to disappear for a while. If… if this guy is just bullshitting me just to get an indentured servant for a while, then this can still be fixed. I’ll just go to one of my towns like I was told and the boss will come find me. One year, five years, what’s it matter? I’ve got all the time in the world. I can wait. For the boss, I’ll wait forever.

This asshole wants a year, then he can have it. “Alright, Mister Rome. We’ve got a deal.”

I shook the hoof with as much strength as I could muster, but it was practically nothing compared to his iron grip. He smiled. “Good.” He was about to unlock the door, but stopped. “Oh, and if ya make a pass at any of my girls, Ah will personally castrate ya faster than Birdie could ever get his hooves on ya.”

“Ow, ow, ow!” My poor broken legs tightened what muscles they could and pulled on the very sensitive healing parts of my body. Never in my life have I felt such overwhelming fear.

“Ah’ll take that as a ‘yes, sir.’”