Chapter 1- "Good always pays well…"

Three horses drove up in a black Chrysler limousine. They wore sunglasses, and no shirt, and had worn and serious expressions on their faces. They were muscular and lean, with defined muscles showing as they gripped the car and whatever else, which was speeding along a dirt road at a slow pace. They stopped in front of an abandoned red barn, and looked around.

"Think we were followed?" asked one

"We'll know soon enough." asked the other.

They both reached downward and pulled out fully-loaded AK-47's, the brown wood shimmering in the midday light.

The three horses exited the car, and the third horse was revealed to have a polished handgun on a hip holster. He reached into the back of the limousine and pulled out a large black briefcase with two thumb locks on it.

"This IS what Mr. Hossen required right?" said the first horse.

"I don't double-cross our boss." said the third horse.

The horses closed the doors on the limo and proceeded toward the entrance of the abandoned red barn. They walked vigorously, but with caution; as if the red barn were rigged to explode. When they got up to the entrance, they took a deep breath, and knocked.

*Thump! Thump! Thump!*

A large horse opened the door.

"You two here to see Boss Hossen?" the large horse bellowed

"Yes," answered the first horse, "It's on account of 'hayride' manners."

At 'hayride' the large horses' eyes widened, and he opened the door completely.

"Welcome!" the large horse said

The three original horses stepped in to a barn inversely different from its outside appearance. The walls were neat and tidy, and the building was lit by eloquent glass chandeliers towering down on a pyrite chain. The floor was tiled and polished, with few scratches that shined against the light. In the center lay a red velvet carpet, which led to the end of the room.

At the end of the room was an appaloosa horse adorned in a suit and many rings. He sat on an elegant chair that seemed to be covered in polished gold and velvet fabric, equally matching the tone of the room he was in. His eyes fell upon the three horses, causing them to shudder as they advanced toward his makeshift throne.

"You have come." boomed the throned horse, "Do you have the hayride?"

"Yes sir," said the horse that carried the briefcase.

"Well come on then," said the throned horse impatiently

The three horses from the limo quickly unlocked the showcase, and then, was a slight account for presentation, opened it dramatically. Inside sat hay, but it was shriveled up and dry. It was blue with a green tinge, and looked as if it had been rolled up.

It was clearly a drug, and a new one.

The first horse elaborated "By crossing the original hayride plant with old human marijuana plants, we have made a plant that gets more bang for your buck. More effects, more highs, more everything, at a cheaper cost for us.

"Cheap to make and we can sell it as a new product." said the second horse.

The throned horse smiled, "You have done well, now us, the Red Saddles, will be able to… equip better, maybe even-"

The doors busted open, and in walked two horses covered in red cloaks. One horse was brawny, with wide shoulder, and other more skinny but seemed to have a patch of hair on his head. They were carrying between them a very familiar British bull, who didn't look happy at all.

All four horses seem shocked by this, but the throned horse seemed very pleased after a second.

He walked up to Drake, pride and victory boasting at every step.

"So they sent YOU?" he said mockingly

"I'm the best mate." said Drake

The throned horse laughed, and grabbed Drake's face

"I know you, I know what you did and I know who you are and what you do." said the throned horse, "And I will be the one who claims your death." He let go and turned away.

"You're a wanker." said Drake with a smile

The throned horse turned around "And you my friend, have made a mistake."

Drake smiled, "Bitch please, I NEVER make mistakes."

The leader horses' eyes widened. He turned around, and the horses tore off their cloaks, revealing to be DJ and Miller. The three horses tried to shoot, but Miller pulled out a shotgun and fired first, getting the first one and parts of the others with one shell, but used one for each horse. The horses lie on the ground, their faces no longer recognizable and their upper body and mass of muscle, bone and hide. Miller picked up the three shells, but also the new drug. He stuffed the drug inside one of the shells. The leader horse stared in horror, unable to process what had just happened.

DJ grabbed him by the throat, "You've hurt countless innocent people! You've destroyed families! You're a monster that must be put down! But first…"

DJ tied the horse up to his chair with rope. Then he backed away.

"What, wait!" shouted the leader horse, "What are you doing?"

Miller took out his knife, and held it to the leader horses throat.

"What's your name/" Miller asked

"Apollo Merdini." said the leader horse, now Apollo.

"Where is your safe?" said Miller,

"Fuck you!" shouted Apollo

Miller punched Apollo, whose neck jerked back from the sheer force. He returned his neck, his mouth was bleeding.

"Come on." said Miller, "You crime lords always have good loot. Where is it?"

"Fuck you you big ugly bovine!" said Apollo

Miller was about to punch him, but DJ stopped him.

"Behind the chair." said DJ, "It's behind the chair."

Miller and Drake looked at him.

"He's psychic." said Miller

Drake paused, unsure whether to trust DJ.

"You sure you got that right Lane?" said Drake

DJ was shocked; no one had ever used his real name.

"Yes." said DJ, "I am. He had a strong mind, but when Miller punched him I saw a way in."

"You better not be lying." said Drake, "Miller, tear off the chair."

Miller nodded. He snorted and stretched his muscles. He grasped the ends of the chair and with a firm pull, ripped the chair from its place. Where the chair used to be was a medium-sized combo lock, made of solid gold.

"Should I get the code from him?" asked DJ to Drake.

"No time." said Drake, he reached into his hide and pulled out a small vial of strange red powder.

"What's that?" said DJ

"This," Drake explained, "is thermite powder. It's a mixture of chemicals that, when ingited by a flame, gets so hot that it melts steel."

Drake spread the thermite on the steel door, and then backed off.

"DJ," said Drake, "Use your fire."

DJ nodded and hit the door with a ball of flames. It instantly heated up and began to give up a massive amount of heat. The air around it was searing hot, so much that Miller, DJ, and Drake had to go back a generous amount of space, picking up Apollo with them. They watched as the door became so hot the lock snapped.

"Good god." said Apollo.

The metal began the glow red, then orange, and then it started to liquefy. The door became molten metal which collected in a pool, giving off black smoke.

"Cool that." said Drake to DJ

DJ surged with power and blew cool air on the molten metal. The metal cooled and solidified into its black, solid form.

"DJ," said Drake, "You're on bag duty. Collect anything and everything."

"Got it." acknowledged DJ, and he produced several giant bags from his hide.

He walked into the vault, and was joyed with what he saw. He saw money, lots of it. He saw weapons and ammo and money in large amounts. He grabbed the money first, greedily. DJ could only think of the stuff he would get for Missy from this. He began to grab faster, getting more and more excited. He became so excited that grabbed everything with super speed. It was like a treasure chest. They had looted one of the biggest animal crime lords.

DJ looked at the empty vault, and then at the big bags of loot. He grabbed the handles of the bags and began to pull, and had immediate difficulty. He tried pushing and pulling, but decided the strain would be less by pulling. He strained and strained and fought until he had dragged the full bags across the metal pile and back towards Miller and Drake.

Miller walked to meet him, "I will take it from here, little brother." said Miller.

"Thank you Milly." said DJ,

Miller turned and looked at the bags. He shrugged, and then picked up the bags and tossed them over his shoulder as if they were knapsacks. When Drake saw that his mission objectives had been accomplished, and turned his OTs-38 at Apollo's head.

"Damn." said Apollo, accepting his fate.

"We need proof of your death," said Drake, who looked at Apollo. Finally, he saw a gold necklace that was embezzled with diamonds and jewelry. Drake ripped the necklace off his neck.

"This should do nicely." said Drake, who then without hesitation lifted the OTs-38 to Apollo's head and shot him.

There was a silence, and the clearing of smoke from the revolver's barrel. The job was done.

Miller, DJ, and Drake exited and headed 50 meters east of the road, where a small industrial van was waiting.

Inside the van, Daisy and Missy were waiting patiently.

"You think anything's happened to them?" asked Daisy, worriedly.

"I'm sure they're fine." said Missy

"But what if they aren't?" asked Daisy, "Oh! I can't stand the thought of losing Miller!"

"Relax, big sis." said Missy, and she took Daisy's hoof in hers, "They're alright."

"Ohhhh, Missy." said Daisy with a smile. For a moment she seemed reassured, but then "But what if they found out who they really we and torturing them?"

Missy rolled her eyes, but then both heard a knock from the back of the van. Missy and Daisy looked at each other, unsure what to do. Could it be Miller and the others? Or an enemy? They both pondered on how to find out without being detected. Then Daisy had an idea. She peered through the side view mirrors and saw who it was.

"It's them!" exclaimed Daisy

Missy and Daisy rushed to the back of the wan and opened the doors. Miller, DJ, and Drake were there. Missy ran up and hugged DJ and Daisy did the same to Miller.

"Bloody hell," said Drake, "We're on a tight schedule people!"

At the last word the lovers broke off and began loading the bags.

"I love doing that." Drake thought

They continued to load the bags, Miller being the one powering the bags in. They loaded them in a way in which they would fit all the stuff inside, but wouldn't ruin the loot. When last bag was loaded, they all closed the van and piled in.

"Now," said Drake, "To the abandoned warehouse!"

Drake started the van and drove off, leaving the decomposing bodies of the three horses and Apollo Merdini, leader of the Red Saddles Horse Mafia.

The old Harlow Cannery Warehouse was nothing more than a rotting tourist attraction. It's blue paint faded and wood walls crumbling, it had played a key role in developing jobs in the First Great Depression, but now it stood as a lonely monolith overlooking the blue-water Harlow City Lake.

The industrial van stood in the entrance of the back alley to the docks. Drake stopped, and turned to Miller

"You and Daisy take up a rifle and keep eyes up," he ordered, "Kill him if he does anything stupid."

Miller and Daisy understood, and at once Miller grabbed his M200 Intervention and loaded it, sliding the bolt in place and locking a bullet to fire. Daisy grabbed some binoculars, and the two got out of the van. As the van drove off, Miller and Daisy made their way inside an old storage complex.

Miller took out his M9 pistol, and he and Daisy took cover on opposite sides on the main entrance doorway. They paused, and Miller looked at Daisy. Daisy nodded, and Miller kicked the door open. He turned on the flashlight on the M9 and began to look around. Daisy did the same with a handheld flashlight.

"Dusty." said Daisy

Indeed, the place was overrun with cobwebs and dust, and then paint was white and bland. Miller kicked down the door to the warehouse part of the complex and the two began to look for the roof access ladder, which they hope hadn't rusted and broke. They stepped deeper inside the warehouse. It was dark, and so dusty that the flashlights began to glow rather than shine. The sides of the warehouse were filled with old wood pallets and scrap metal, long rusted. It made both Miller and Daisy nervous.

"You have Violet?" asked Miller

Daisy in panic shot her right hoof down toward her right hip, and felt the smooth barrel of the revolver. She sighed in relief, and pulled it out. Violet, as she and Miller had named it, was a beautiful Colt Python .357 Magnum revolver with a chrome finish. The handle was made from synthetic carbon fibers, and the cylinder, hammer, and barrel were made from titanium alloys. It was an incredibly robust revolver, and Miller had given it to her and taught her how to use it.

Regardless of her skills at the gun range, she fumbled to bring out the revolver. Daisy's sweet nature still feared at the idea of hurting someone, and to think the revolver she was given would more or less kill a creature with one well-placed shot still sent pulsing fear through her. She brought up the gun and checked the cylinder. Six bullets were fit snug into all 6 slots, all waiting patiently to be fired off. She gulped, and then shook as she closed the cylinder and began to hold the revolver in her right hoof and the flashlight in the left hoof.

Daisy didn't want to kill anyone, nor hurt anything. She was a lover, not a fighter and it had always been that way. She would do what is necessary, anything to protect her family. But this, a gun, a danger, she didn't like it at all. She hoped she would never pull the trigger on Violet unless Miller was coaching her on the gun range. All her life Daisy was taught to love, and how to take care of the ones she cared about.

Even still, Daisy held the revolver up and steady. Miller steadily searched for the roof access while Daisy searched rapidly, hoping to avoid a conflict. She breathed a little faster than normal as she waved the light around the dark room. Finally, she spotted a red ladder connected to a hatch up above. She examined it further, and she found that the metal wasn't rusted and could support her and Miller's weight.

"Hey," she whispered in a dry tone "I found it."

Miller at once turned his flashlight towards Daisy, and saw the old ladder. He also saw something Daisy didn't. The ladder was guarded by a rusty gate which was secured with a metal lock. Sensing the advantage, Miller took the opportunity to steady his anxious wife's nerves.

"Daisy," said Miller, "Shoot the lock."

Daisy turned to him, puzzled. Her face looked at him as if he were crazy, as if what he asked her were a herculean task.

Miller glanced back with a smirk. It was a test of trust. "Go on, shoot it." he coaxed.

Daisy gave him a pleading look, but Miller would not be swayed.

"Drake needs us." he said calmly

Those words Daisy found impossible to argue with. She did trust Miller, and she knew exactly what he was doing and why. She tried to find some objection, but could not come up with a valid one. Defeated, she turned around and brought up the revolver, steady her grip and focusing her sight on the chrome iron sights. Breathing, she pulled the trigger slowly and BANG! The revolver threw itself at her, the flash from the gun shining light on her and Miller for a second. She paused, and then looked. The lock was blown off and ladder was accessible.

Miller stood by her side, "Good work. Sharpshooter." he said warmheartedly as he began to climb. Daisy looked at him stunned, began then smiled warmly as her nerves calmed. She didn't quite know what just happened, but she knew she was calmer. She began to climb the ladder.

At the top, Miller pulled out his rifle and Daisy her binoculars. They wasted no time looking and had spotted Drake and the paying customer straightaway.

"Ok," said Daisy, peering in the binoculars, "They just finished the deal. It looks like we're good."

Miller peered through the scope and said nothing. Daisy took the cue and continued to keep watch. Drake began walking away from the paying customer, a middle-aged horse in a fedora. The horse and Drake began to separate; Daisy and Miller watched closely.

About 75 yards away, Daisy saw the horse reach for his side.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed, "He's reaching to his side!" The horse pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Drake, readying the killshot. Suddenly there was a crack of thunder, and half of the horse's head was missing. His half head and limbs tried to move in one final act of life, but found no success. The horse collapsed, and his mutilated head began to paint the wood dock red. On the building, Miller stood up still hold the M200 Intervention and its smoking barrel. He turned to Daisy and pulled the bolt back, letting the hot, empty, spent .408 cartridge drop to the floor, making a loud plink! as it hit.

Miller snorted in contentedness, and turned to Daisy.

"Let's get off this roof and into Drake's van." he said

"Thank you." replied Daisy

They made their way off the roof and slid down the ladder, not wasting any time. They opened the last door, and Drake's van was waiting.

Miller and Daisy got in.

"Everything ok?" said Miller, concerned for Daisy

"Yes." said Daisy, and put her head on Miller's shoulder.

DJ and Missy looked at Drake.

"Man," said DJ, "We made a profit! Off of getting rid of evil!"

"Good causes always pay well." said Drake, as he hit the gas and they drove off into the sunset.