It had taken Pierre an eternity to reach the equestrian club, but it was not in vain as he saw horses in a vast enclosure. The smell was powerful, causing the heavily armed trader to furrow his brows as he pulled a well-filled cart. He noticed the presence of ponies, docile and short-legged, perfect for children, but that was not what interested him.

Despite the smell, the place seemed peaceful and well-maintained. Chaos had not seemed to reach the equestrian center, greatly relieving Pierre, who feared arriving too late, as at the Monoprix.

It didn't take him long to find someone. It was a lady who looked rather presentable if one overlooked her high rubber boots. She had long brown hair tied up in a large bun and eyes as dark as the slates covering the roofs of nearby buildings. Naturally, he was not warmly welcomed, which he could only understand.

"The center is closed, sir. Come back another day."

"I understand, but I'm not here to practice. I'm not even enrolled, actually."

"Then what do you want?" the lady asked cautiously, ready to bolt to call for help.

"I would like to make a deal with you."

"I hope you're not hoping to take one of our horses," she grumbled. "Because if you are, I'm going to ask you to leave."

"I understand, but allow me to present my offer. I have water, food, medicine, and as you can see, I also have some weapons. We are living in a historic crisis that renders money worthless and people violent. Surely, you have needs? I can help you, and you can help me, because I need an efficient means of transportation. One of your mounts would be perfect."

Pierre's arrival had attracted the attention of two other officials from the center. Facing the silence of the woman, who was probably in her forties, a younger woman spoke up.

"We told you we're not interested! Leave us alone and go away!"

"I see. It's regrettable, but I won't insist further. Sorry for the disturbance. Perhaps another equestrian center will accept my supplies and weapons in exchange for a horse."

"W-Wait, Agathe! One moment, please, sir!"

The oldest woman in the group abruptly turned her back on the stranger to confer with her colleagues. Although he could only catch snippets of conversation, it seemed to him that the conversation was gradually turning in his favor.

They seem to have their own difficulties. The main obstacle seems to be the blonde. If I understood correctly, her name is Agathe.

She was very beautiful and a little younger than him. Thirty at most. Agathe wore blue jeans that perfectly highlighted her hips and long thighs, as well as a pink and red checkered shirt. At times, her furious eyes glanced at him.

"Sorry for the wait. Um, we may... um, perhaps we can come to an agreement. I see you have a cart with you, and it looks quite full..."

Indeed, the young trader had found in his belongings an old shopping cart that he had never used because he thought it was outdated. Unfortunately for him, it was not even worth hoping to find a shopping cart anymore, as they had all been stolen during the looting.

"A horse is very expensive, sir. Of course, depending on its breed and physical capabilities, the sum can easily be multiplied. I suppose you want a riding horse?"

"Uh, yes?"

"That's how we refer to a horse intended to be ridden," the lady explained, crossing her arms over her chest. "We have sports horses, tailored for competition, or ONC horses, um, whose origin is not well known."

"ONC is fine."

"We're talking about around 2000 euros for a horse of this type, and that was before the crisis. Now that there are no more cars in working order, you'll understand that even a donkey becomes as precious as a Ferrari."

"Let's not exaggerate, but it's a fact that they have become more valuable, just like a simple tin can or a bottle of water. The difference is that what I have to offer can save lives. Without wanting to be rude and insulting, your cheeks are hollow, and you look tired, madam, like those two people behind you. Tell me your price, but be reasonable. I also need to eat and drink."

"Of course, of course. Um, it's hard to say. Can we look at what you brought with you?"

Pierre remained silent for a moment, wary, before nodding. The three officials of the center then began to look at what was in the cart, not forgetting Vince's backpack. Throughout this time, Pierre did not leave the group for fear of being robbed. If they tried anything, in the worst case, he would brandish his sword.

The more they went, the more they put things aside. Pierre's expression became darker and darker as he watched them do it without intervening. Bottles, packets, boxes, cans... it was starting to pile up, and they didn't seem to be finished.

Are they mocking me?! Are they testing me?!

"Here's what we want," said the head of the center. "Do you accept?"

Pierre stared at her without immediately responding. Each seemed to interpret this heavy silence in their own way.

They look serious! Thieves! Profiteers!

"I want one horse, not two," he declared to the boss in a cold, almost threatening tone. "Don't be too greedy."

"Sir, it seems to us that we are very reasonable. Do you know how many horses there are in France? Or in the Île-de-France region? Much fewer than inhabitants, that's for sure."

Pierre could see that this woman did not want to give up all these nice things he had brought her on a silver platter. He weighed the pros and cons before deciding.

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"Very well, but then you will provide me with all the necessary equipment. Saddle, saddlebag, stirrups, harness, and everything else. Anyway, what use would this equipment be to you if you didn't have an animal to put it on?"

She's not wrong, but... Damn it, I really need a way to get out of the city!

"Humpf! Very well. Deal struck."

"Show me your horses so I can choose. And I'm going to need a lesson on how to equip and take care of it properly."

"Ah, understood," sighed the boss, extending a hand. "This way. But I must warn you that not all the horses present here belong to us. Some belong to individuals who leave them to us to take care of for them, which allows us to make them available to other individuals wishing to learn the art of riding. If the owner wants to take it back..."

"No matter. That's their problem. And if they come looking for me, I can be convincing."

Pierre Marchais was led to the stables by the young woman who had not stopped being hostile to him, and those to which he had access were pointed out to him. They were not all the same size and were of various colors. With a small smile on his lips, like a general reviewing his troops, he passed by each of them, stroking them to see if they reacted well. The problem was that he knew nothing about them. The size, weight, breed, age. He was in unknown territory.

These are beautiful animals.

In front of each box, there was a small wooden sign engraved with their name. Zephyr, Jupiter, Alcibiades had a cream-colored coat; Marcius and Caspian were darker and exuded a kind of mysterious and unpredictable aura; Dakota, Chance, Moka, and Caramel had brown coats. Only Neige had a white coat.

"Can I advise you?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. Which one do you recommend?"

"This one is quite docile. It's a three-year-old mare we call Dakota. She's very popular with our customers for riding lessons."

Pierre observed the animal. Its big dark eyes seemed full of life, and its temperament indeed seemed calm. Its coat, or so they said, was brown except at the end of one of its legs and the space between its eyes. In these two places, its fur was as white as snow.

"Do you want to ride her?"

"Yes, please. That way, I can see how to equip a horse."

"Very well. Let's go get everything we need. First, safety rules. Never approach from behind, no matter the mount. It must see you coming, otherwise it might kick you, and believe me when I say that a kick from a hoof hurts. Horses are very intelligent animals. Talk to her, tell her your intentions. Go ahead. You can pet her to reassure her.

"Easy, girl. We're going for a little ride. Good girl.

"Very well. Let's put this on her head, like this, like clothing. It's the halter. Be sure to tie it securely. Now we can take her out of the box."

The young woman opened the box door without making any sudden movements, allowing Pierre to get a better idea of the animal.

"To equip her safely and for ease, we're going to tie her on both sides of the aisle. Here and here. You see how calm she is? A horse is only equipped after it's been groomed. Dakota has already been brushed, so it's good. We'll start with the saddle pad and then the cushion. We need to protect this area called the withers. It's what's between the saddle and the horse's skin. It's very important. Now we can put on the saddle. We go gently, with the pommel towards the animal's head. Very, very important: make sure the pad and cushion are securely attached to the saddle with the girths. For now, nothing is fixed to the horse. That's what we're going to do now with these straps: the girths. We pass them under the horse and attach them to the same girth on the other side, neither too loose nor too tight. Here, this is good. It's important that it's symmetrical to avoid the saddle leaning to one side. We check that everything is tightened properly, good. We untie the horse and pass the reins around its neck. We remove the halter, hold its head, and place this part, the bridle, in place and gently insert the bit into its mouth. We watch out for the ears and clear these hairs so they don't get stuck under this strap. We adjust the straps under the mouth and under the throat so there's enough room for a hand. During all these steps, we don't make any sudden movements to avoid scaring it. And there you go! Dakota is ready."

Agathe, the boss's daughter, looked at Pierre with a disapproving look.

"I suppose you don't have riding boots or a helmet?"

"No."

"Ah, well. We'll provide you with them. What size do you wear?"

"In shoes? 44."

"We'll try the 45. You certainly won't want to suffocate in boots that are too small."

Agathe brought two pairs of black leather boots, and after he tried them on, he could finally mount the mare. Pierre wasn't very reassured, but he also felt like a cowboy. It was strange, unsettling, but quite satisfying and exciting. Very satisfied, he agreed to take this horse that he was already beginning to appreciate.

Whether it was Agathe or the other members of the club, they were not happy to part with one of their boarders. Dakota was a good mare, and her owner was a good person. Although they dreaded the day he would come to the club to take her back, they thought they had made the right choice by accepting all these supplies.

Before leaving, Pierre asked for saddlebags to store his belongings, but the center's officials refused to give them to him for free. Furious, he was forced to leave behind an extra bottle of water, a can of peas, and one of red beans, aware that people were fighting in the city and dying for less than that.

Standing proudly on his mount, Pierre seemed to dominate the world. Although he had lost two ancient weapons, a rapier and a lance, food, water, and medicine, he now felt he had made a very good deal.

It was safe to say that he didn't go unnoticed in the streets of Paris. The deterrent effect of his horse, a massive animal that tended to be forgotten, added to his cavalry saber, gave him a threatening air, especially as he was equipped with a cuirass as shiny as silver.

The people in the street, looking for food, moved away as he passed by to avoid appearing hostile. They simply observed him and refrained from provoking him. This included the famous youths, those who before the blackout thought they were kings of the world, those who could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, to whomever they wanted without repercussions. They hadn't been proud for some time. The wave of violence they had witnessed and participated in had deeply shocked them, much more than they would like to admit.

Then something strange happened.

An impressive flock of birds flew at full speed overhead, as if they were trying to migrate or flee the Devil. They were so numerous that they darkened the sky. From the ground, you could hear the frantic beating of their wings. They were all going in the same direction. At the same time, dogs could be heard barking to death in this street as well as in all of Paris. Pierre watched, not understanding all these birds and listening to the barking. An uncontrollable shiver ran through him without him knowing exactly why, and he tightened his grip on the reins that allowed him to steer Dakota.

A small bird with black feathers and an orange beak suddenly fell from the sky like a stone just a stone's throw away from him. It was soon followed by dozens of others.

"What the..."

The passers-by were as surprised and terrified as he was by this strange and worrying rain. Yet the sky didn't seem any different from any other day.

But what's happening, damn it? I don't like this at all!

The Parisians, stunned by this very unusual sight that they couldn't understand, evacuated the street as quickly as possible as if they were afraid of being struck by lightning.

If the animals are going crazy and fleeing, it means it's time to leave!

Pierre galloped his mount through the streets of Paris, straight north to leave the capital without passing through his apartment. He had taken the most important things with him, giving up everything else. His saddlebags were full, and he had managed to put the rest in Vince's large backpack. His other belongings were piled quite roughly in a pillowcase tied on each side and placed across his mount, behind him.

He followed the ring road for a while before taking the A1 motorway leading to the Stade de France. From there, he could either follow the motorway directly linking the capital to Lille or exit before to go in the opposite direction towards Rouen. For the moment, he had no plan other than to leave Paris as quickly as possible.