> Fallout Equestria: The Things We've Handed Down
>  by Dattebayo
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: Saviors
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 1: Saviors


“Huuurk!” 

And just like that, this morning’s precious rations splattered all over the sink. A lone unicorn mare weakly lifted her head from the mess. Being a plumber, she knew how something as thick as vomit would build up in the piping systems and cause sinks and toilets to back up, though at the moment, the sight of half-digested carrots and small hunks of wet bread that peppered the sink made her want to take another shot at clogging the pipes even further. She turned on the faucet and watched half a day’s worth of rations swirl down the drain. “Doctor’s clinic it is, then...”
 
The air filled with the ever-present din of Stable life as she tip-toed out of her sound proofed room, trying not to wake any of the five roommates she was fortunate enough to share a room with that month, though at the moment, her recurring bout of nausea didn’t make her feel so lucky. Fighting back the urge to regurgitate whatever food her stomach was still clinging to, she took a deep breath and made her way down the hallway filled with makeshift beds and annoyed stable dwellers trying to make their way to their daily lives. 
 
She gingerly pushed her way into the makeshift clinic that once served as an arcade room. She didn’t even notice that Mr. Times Tables lost the place until she was called to unclog a sink there not too long ago. She grimly ruminated how this room was much more popular now than it ever was as a recreation center.
 
“’The doctor will be with you shortly, Ms. Faucet!’ shouted the tired secretary behind a toppled arcade machine she was using as a desk.

Her voice was hoarse from trying to reason with the crowd before her.

‘It’s been a busy day,’ she said, rubbing her eyes.”

“Thank you. I can imagine...”

Another day in Stable 16. Always noisy, always busy, always up to your withers with ponies equally frustrated as you are. 
 

***********************************************************************************************

 
“Pregnant...?” Leaky asked, brushing her gray-blue mane out her face. She rocked uneasily at the news. “But how could I be pregnant?”
 
The overworked Stable doctor raised an eyebrow and let out a long, sarcastic sigh.

“Have you experienced any sexual contact between two months ago to right now?” His recited deadpan did little to betray just how often he had this conversation.
 
The mare paused and thought back. There was that night in Mrs. Sugarbottom’s canteen. That one cute pink stallion with the funky hairdo bought her a few drinks and chatted her up, complimented her hair, that always made her feel nice…

‘Oh dear.’
 
“Well... is there any way I can... you know. Stop being pregnant?”

The mare knew what she was asking for, and judging by the doctor’s raised eyebrow, there was no question as to what she really meant.
 
“Leaky, you know we haven’t had the supplies for that in years. Besides—“ he sighed as he got up from his chair. “You’re too far into your pregnancy for that kind of procedure.”
 
“I know...” she groaned under her breath. “It’s just... months like these... month...” Her eyes widened as her pale yellow figure shot up from the examination table from realization, startling the eavesdropping nurse trying to look useful. “Wait! I can’t be pregnant! I’m going to The Outside in a month!”
 
“Ahh...that puts things in perspective doesn’t it?” The doctor frowned. “Unfortunately, even if I were to ignore the ethics of carrying out such a procedure at this late a term, we’re still severely undersupplied.”

The nurse trotted up to the doctor and whispered into his ear: “Doctor, 10 minutes per patient...”

He nodded at the nurse and turned to Leaky. 

“You know I’m going to have to tell Overmare Sunny Days about this.”
 
Leaky’s ears dropped. “Ponyfeathers. She’s going to be—”
 

***********************************************************************************************

 
“Com-plete-ly irresponsible,” thundered the tiny Overmare. Leaky never liked the way she always accented her syllables. She’d prefer the radioactive death The Outside offered to being scolded like a little school filly by a pony that barely came up to her withers any day.
 
“You had ONE rule. ONE! Remind me, what was that...?”
 
“Don’t get preg--”
 
“DON’T get PREGNANT!”
 
‘Does radiation hurt?’ wondered Leaky.
 
“You were supposed to keep your DISGUSTING carnal behaviors in check for a few months. A FEW MONTHS! Was that so much to ask for?”
 
“It was only one—“
 
“Goddesses ABOVE. What am I going to do with you?”
 
Leaky quietly stared back at the Overmare, who was stricken with a mixture of despair and anger, strands of her blonde mane matted on her pale yellow forehead. It reminded Leaky of a half-plucked chicken.
 
She was snapped out of the observation by the Overmare’s sharp bark. “I’m asking you a question, you incompetent dunce!”

Leaky straightened to attention. “I-I don’t know, Overmare Sunny Days. Extra chores? Kitchen duty? Vent cleaning?”
 
The Overmare sighed and shook her head. “No...as much as it would pain me to let such blatant disregard of authority go unpunished...”
 
‘How long would it take to die if somepony took a nice swim in nuclear waste?’
 
“...we’ve spent too many resources on you to let that go to waste.”
 
She paused in her pacing long enough to collapse on her chair, its empty back towering tall over  both mares. She looked worryingly at Leaky, a sudden change of pace from her previous tantrum.
 
“You are to continue with your training and head to The Outside on your mission as planned.”
 
Leaky’s ears perked up suddenly. “A-are you sure, ma’am? What about my...my...”
 
The Overmare tilted back in her chair and closed her eyes.“We’re short on volunteers as is. Everyone’s too afraid of The Outside to step up and do the right thing. Anyone brave enough has already volunteered, and is either out there already or in your wave”. She paused, questioning the ethics of sending a pregnant mare into the Wasteland, before proceeding.“We need this to happen. At all costs. We’re running out of everything: room, supplies, even our water talisman is malfunctioning from overuse and the reactor isn’t far behind. At this rate, we won’t last the end of the year.”
 
Leaky looked down and touched her toned belly. “Yeah... I understand, Ma’am.”
 
“Proceed to training. You have a duty to fulfill.”
 
The unicorn mare turned and headed for the door as the Overmare spun her chair away from her. “Some things are bigger than all of us, Leaky. And… congratulations.”


************************************************************************************************

 
WHACK!

The duct tape-wrapped baseball bat slammed into the punching bag, nearly ripping it off the ceiling. Dust flew from the new cracks, stinging Leaky's eyes. She squinted and rubbed them with her hooves, setting down the stick down next to her. She rubbed vigorously with a groan, trying to find relief for her irritated eyes.

“Woah! Okay Leaky, that’s enough for today,” called out an earth stallion with a short peppered mane as he trotted into the cement-lined training room. “Any more swings at the damn thing and we’ll have to patch it up. Again.”

Leaky blinked away her irritation and looked at the worn training bag. She honestly wasn't sure what the bag originally was made of. Maybe it always was a patchwork of random fabrics. Still, getting the sand back in was a pain. “Yeah. ‘Spose.”

She trotted over to an adjacent wall and slid to her haunches, wiping the sweat from her brow. The stallion quietly sat next to her. They sat wordlessly under the omnipresent hum of the lights.

“So... how’s training?” he asked, trying to casually break the silence. The mare looked into his emerald eyes then re-affixed her attention to the worn training bag.

“It’s going alright, I guess. I’m still bleh with a gun. But the Overmare says I’m a natural at sneaking around and hitting stuff with a stick.”

The stallion joined her in staring at the sand-filled bag. “Heh. I’d believe that.”

The room was swallowed by silence again. The stallion shifted his weight with a groan and turned to Leaky, trying to find the right words to say.

He managed to choke out it out. “Leaky...the Overmare told me you’re pregnant.”

She inhaled sharply but remained silent. She looked at the floor in quiet shame, tracing the ground with the tip of her forehoof. “Yeah.”

The stallion raised his voice suddenly, causing Leaky to flinch while attempting to avoid his scowl. “And you’re still planning on going to The Outside? You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you do that.”

Leeaky turned to the stallion grimly, upper lip beginning to tremble. “They have no other volunteers… we’re the only ones who offered this wave.”

The stallion shook his head in protest, his voice cracking. “No. Let them take somepony else. Not from me…” his eyes began to water, showing off that old earth pony tradition of suppressing tears. “Not my baby girl...”

Leaky rested her head on her father’s shoulder and buried her face into his coat. That was one tradition she could never pick up. “I’m so sorry...” Her tears bled into his white coat, painting a dark stain in the messy fur.

He hooked a foreleg around her body and kissed the top of her head. “How’re you feeling, drippy?”

She looked up at him, orange eyes glazed with moisture. “Awful,” she said as she laughed, tears still streaming from her face. She rested her head on her father’s warm, rising chest. “All of my barding is getting tight on me, I threw up twice this morning, I’m even hungrier than usual, and yesterday I got stuck on some pipes in a boiler room for 30 minutes until somepony heard me crying. When she saved me I shouted at her for not coming sooner and made her cry...then I started crying with her.” She sniffled and rubbed her nose. “It sucks.”

“It’s alright, it’s alright...” He patted her shoulder with a hoof. Her father’s heartbeat was steady, consoling her.

“I need to do this, dad...” she said as she lifted herself off her father’s chest. She wiped her puffy eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. “Overmare Sunny Days told me that some things are bigger than us… this is what she meant, I think.”

“I know...” He leaned his head on his daughter’s. “Just… I don’t know. Be careful out there...fuck this shitty Stable, don’t risk your life for this place. I’d rather have to leave here with no plan than have you get hurt. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

Leaky chuckled and sniffled. “Promise.”

********************************************************************************************

"Let's get STUPID!" 

Mrs. Sugarbottom's canteen was livelier than it'd ever been. Music was blasting through the jukebox, the Overmare had sanctioned the release of condoms from deep emergency storage, and even Mrs. Sugarbottom herself broke out a wide selection of 170 year vintage alcohol. Which would be great… if Leaky could drink. She looked down at her glass of watered-down cola and swooshed the ice around. She hadn't had soda in over 7 years, when her and a friend her dad had called a "bad influence" raided a rations storage room and ate until they got sick. While it tasted as great as she remembered, she would have preferred something… stronger.

She sat alone in the corner under a flickering overhead light, watching the other volunteers have the time of their lives before heading out to near-certain death tomorrow. Leaky loved fun as the next pony, but the other volunteers had largely ignored her since the party started. She tried to be okay with that, but Leaky was a social pony by nature. She took another sip of her soda and sighed.

"Ah, now ere's a lovely face I aven't seen in ages! What a party, eh?" A well-aged unicorn mare trotted up to Leaky at her table booth, her poofy ginger mane bouncing as she swayed happily. "I aven't seen ponies this happy since ‘fore the rationin’!"

Leaky looked up and flashed a warm smile. "Hi, Mrs. Sugarbottom." 

The canteen owner pulled up a chair next to her and sat down, ignoring calls for another round. "Say, why aren'cha over there avin' fun with the rest of 'em ponies? You're quite the party pony yerrself, if I'm goin' by last time I saw ya. I'm sure all those stallions you took home know too, eh?" She winked furtively and tittered, causing Leaky to blush.

 "Ah...I guess." She looked down at her glass again. It was mostly soda-flavored water at this point. "I dunno...I don't think I can have fun like that anymore..."

"Oh, that's downright unfortunate, right there!" She spoke with a nod. She paused and tilted her head. "Wait, why's that, lassie?" 

"Well..." she began. She pointed at her belly as her ears folded back.

"Oh my!" Mrs. Sugarbottom whispered loudly. "No wonder ya asked fer a soda!"

She looked around and leaned close.

"It wasn't that good-for-nothin' goat-lover Spring Step, was it?"

Leaky lowered her head, ears still folded back. "That's the thing...I don't even know who's the father. I've been looking all over the Stable for him. Do you remember a gray pony I left with about a month ago?"

Mrs. Sugarbottom shook her head sadly. "Sorry, dearie. I don't even remember wakin' up this mornin'. Radroaches suckin' on me old-arse brain."

Leaky sighed and folded her forelegs onto the table before laying her head down. "I just...I don't know. I want to tell him what's going to happen to me tomorrow. Tell him he's going to have a foal, if he'd have any interest in taking care of it with me... That kind of stuff."

The older mare scoffed and waved a hoof. "Nonsense, honeybun. You got a great head on yer shoulders. Yer smart, yer hard-workin'. You'll do great without 'im."

Leaky's ears perked, her head still laying on her folded forehooves. "You think so?"

Mrs. Sugarbottom nodded a single time as she got up. "I know so." She floated over a bottle of magically preserved pre-war soda and freshened Leaky's drink. "Children are a blessin’, even in a place as fucked as ours."

Leaky took a drink, swishing the cup around with her magic. She looked down at her belly and placed a hoof on it. "Yeah... a blessing."


***********************************************************************************************

 
“How the hay are you gonna put this on...?” asked a curly-maned filly holding a set of standard issue Stable-Tec security barding. “You’re huge!”

An earth-colored mare slapped her on the back of the head and gave her a glare, then flashed Leaky a sincere smile. “Sorry, Leaky! No filter on this one...”
 
A visibly pregnant Leaky returned her sincere smile. “It’s alright...”

She wrapped her issued armor in her telekinesis and examined it closer. The ceramic plates were dirty and scratched; this one even had a ketchup stain on it. She sighed and cleaned it with a rag she had on-hoof. Only the best equipment for the heroes.
 
“So uh...” started the mother of the filly. “How ARE you going to wear that?”
 
That was a good question. Leaky looked down at her belly, where a very noticeable bump had formed in the past month. It was certainly going to make things difficult.
 
“It’ll work...” she said. “It won’t be comfortable though...”

“Oh, what a relief! You’ll certainly need it!” chirped the mare. “How far along are you, anyway?”
 
Leaky began to walk towards the next supply station. “3 months...”

“Oh my…” 

A stallion with a shaved head sat behind a metal crate, the supply station’s makeshift ‘counter’. He had an annoyed wrinkle stitched into his brow.

“Name?”
 
“Huh?” His bluntness caught her off guard.
 
He rolled his eyes and repeated. “Name. I need your name to give you supplies.”
 
“Uh...Leaky...Leaky Faucet.”
 
The stallion opened the crate and examined the contents. He picked up a burlap sack labeled “L. F.” with his teeth and muttered “Thif if yourf” through an occupied mouth, then dropped it on the crate.
 
“Thank you.” Leaky picked the sack up with her telekinesis and blinked at the supply station attendant expectantly.

The stallion huffed and motioned her to leave. “They’re starting briefing soon and I still have ponies to attend, so if you’d kindly...”
 
“Oh...okay”

The sack was light, lighter than she was comfortable with. She knew that supplies weren’t exactly plentiful here, but she had hoped to be better equipped to scout The Outside.
 
A tight squeeze, a long line, and a couple more cranky station attendants later, Leaky soon joined the small crowd gathering around the stable door. They all wore armor identical to Leaky’s stable security barding, though some were in better condition than others. Surprisingly, none of the volunteers were hungover or tired. The sobering realization of what they were about to embark on kept them sharp.

An elbow nudged at her side, snapping her at attention.
 
“Are you security?” A green stallion with long, spiky light-blue hair beamed sincerely at her. She wasn’t aware teeth could be that white.
 
“Uhm, no... plumber. Are you?”
 
“Nah. Dentist.”

‘That explains the teeth’

“My brother is, though. Taught me how to shoot. Mostly radroaches though!”
 
Leaky nodded politely. “Cool.”
 
“Hey, uh, I noticed you’re a little...pregnant.”

‘Straight for the jugular, eh?’

“Are you gonna be alright?”
 
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She wasn’t too sure herself.
“I don’t—”
 
“ALRIGHT, everypony. LISTEN UP!” boomed a familiar loud but squeaky voice. The Overmare had climbed on top of two stacked crates near the door to get the crowd’s attention and was using her trademark voice amplification spell. “I want to thank you all for volunteering. This was not a small favor.”

She looked over the fifteen or so under-equipped ponies who had her undivided attention. Pride and frustration came over her.“ You have chosen to risk your very lives for the good of your people. Your neighbors. Your children. And for that, there’s a debt I can never repay. A debt that none of us can.”
 
She paused, collecting her thoughts. “Our Stable is dying. Our supplies are drying up, and our people are getting restless. You are to venture to The Outside and find us a new land capable of supporting our people, and you are to find it through any means necessary.”
 
The Overmare swelled her chest and exhaled. 

“The home we’ve made for almost 170 years beckons us to spread our wings and expand outwards, and under the protection of the Goddesses Luna and Celestia, we will not fail.”
 
The crowd murmured slightly before falling to a hush as the Overmare raised a hoof. “In your bags, there are supplies specialized for each of you based off of your previous talents and GOAT scores. These were all donated to you by your people, so you will have a little piece of home with you at all times acting as your sword and shield. You may look through them now.”
 
Leaky opened her burlap sack and rummaged through its contents. A first-aid kit, assorted bags of dried food, three filled canteens, and other assorted baubles. Even with the Overmare talking, Leaky continued to look through her bag. She floated out a noticeably worn 10mm pistol out of the bag. Someone had etched ‘piece of shit’ on its handle, barely readable through years of use. Placing the pistol and the holster it came with around her left flank, she peered into her bag and recoiled in surprise.

Being careful to not hit anypony with it, she slid out a long, perfectly preserved machete. ‘Specialized? What do these ponies think plumbers do?!’ she thought to herself in amazement.

Its blade looked fiendishly sharp, serrated teeth running down the length of its spine, giving it an almost hacksaw-like appearance. Its gem-embedded handle was a glossy magenta wood of some kind, polished to an almost mirror sheen.

‘Definitely enchanted...’ thought Leaky in amazement.

She pulled the scabbard out of her bag. It was in a noticeably worse condition than the machete, with pieces of its darker magenta cloth ripped and threadbare. Whoever enchanted it must have forgotten to do the scabbard as well. As she put it away, Leaky noticed faded yet elegant cursive written on its torn cloth. 

“Dead bees make no honey, mom! Lots of love, Pinchy”. 

She looked around to see what the others got. The dentist seemed to have gotten a sort of long rifle. One mare even got what seemed to be a flamethrower. She stared at the tanks on her back, wondering incredulously if the mare had been holding that thing this whole time and she hadn't even noticed.
 
“...to reiterate...be aware of the Demons.”
 
‘Crap...’

She had completely blanked-out through almost the entire briefing.
 
“The Demons have proven to be smarter than we initially thought, and that makes them an even bigger threat. The majority of scouts sent to observe the Demons have not come back. The few that have described an… unexpected… ability to use weaponry.”
 
The volunteers gasped and murmured.

“I do not need to remind you of the threat they pose. They are death incarnate, mutated abominations designed for the sole purpose of killing. If they see you, you are already dead. If you see their tunnels, run the other way. If you cannot..." She shook her head. "Only the Goddesses could save you. Avoid engagement at any cost.”
  
The crowd fell silent as the air hung thick with dread.
 
“I have no doubt that you will not fail this mission. I have complete trust that each and every one of you are the heroes Stable 16 needs. You venture to The Outside as everyday ponies… and you will come back to us… as our saviors.”
 

***********************************************************************************************

 
The Outside was just as vast and empty as Leaky remembered. And hot.

She had only gone outside a few times during training, only when absolutely necessary, so she wasn’t at all used to… all of this. The infinite ceiling still made her uneasy and though she was used to the idea of having a limitless emptiness above her at all times, she sometimes caught herself feeling as if she would fall upwards.
 
The group gathered at the mouth of the Stable. The massive metallic churning of the Stable door’s gears shutting the impenetrable entrance to the only home they’ve ever known made their hearts sink.

"So..." asked a dark gray pink-maned earth mare with spiked gauntlets on her hooves. "You guys really think we can do this?"

The group looked at each other silently.

"Fuck that," spoke up a light purple pegasus with a laser rifle slung over his shoulder. "You know how much of a hard-flank Overmare Sunny Days is. Did you see the way she talked to us? If she really thinks we can do it, we can. You heard her. We're Saviors."

The volunteers exchanged one final wordless nod and walked their own separate ways.

Leaky climbed the highest hill on her path and looked back at the ponies slowly disappearing across the horizon. She focused on the wind blasted dunes ahead of her and the parched plant life dotting its plateaus. She had never been so alone. An entire lifetime of being shoulder to shoulder with other noisy ponies brought this moment of utter solitude into perspective.
 
A rush of light-headedness brought her to her flanks. Bile ran up her throat and she spat it on the ground, knees trembling.

‘Alone...’

The concept, unlike the dead irradiated expanse that was The Outside, was not something she could get used to. She looked down and caressed her belly through her security barding.

‘Maybe not entirely alone...’

Her Pipbuck let out a small blip, signaling it had picked up a radio signal. She looked at it wearily and blinked. A radio signal surely meant civilization. Somewhere. As she tuned into the new signal, her Pipbuck alerted her to the name of the region she now had to find a new home in.
 
“Marizona.”
 
“—and then she was like “wah wah no please, my baby” while I loaded it on my Rock-It Launcher.

“Well, faggots, that’s all the storytime Papa Muckraker has for right now. I’ll be back later to tell you all about my awesome tales of conquests throughout The Zona. Till then, here’s some more music for your sick, sick listening holes. This is your lovable neighborhood pillager Muckraker, telling you YES; you DO look fat in that dress.”
 
“~ ♪ The city streets are empty now THE LIGHTS DON'T SHINE NO MORE
and so the songs are way down low TURNING TURNING TURNING
A sound that flows into my mind THE ECHOES OF THE DAYLIGHT
of everything that is alive IN MY BLUE WORLD ♪~”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Super Slam! Fwoosh! Boff! Bip! All unarmed and melee weapon attacks have a chance of knocking down your opponent. Chalk it up to your maternal rage!
> Chapter 2: Plumwood
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 2: Plumwood


 

“Goooooooood morning, my fellow degenerates. Lovely day out, isn’t it?
The sun is hiding behind its usual curtain of clouds, the mutants are all bright eyed and bushy tailed, and the Taint is just as wicked as ever. And I ain’t talkin’ about that goopy stuff that gives you extra eyeballs! Yessir, life out here in the Zona is a bitch. “

“You can be raped by raiders, flayed by flanamingos, wrecked by radiation... all before you eat your breaky-bye! Kinda makes you wonder what makes people keep going, with inevitable death or worse being just around the corner and all. My old man used to always tell me, ‘The hardest things are often the ones that are worth fighting for, and the road to salvation is long and hard’. Reminds me! So I was at a bar one time, and this chick with a great ass comes out and—”
 
Click! 

With just a flick of a switch, the wasteland was quiet once again. Leaky stared at her Pipbuck and shook her head. Even though Muckraker had good taste in music, his ramblings often became too much to bear for a civilized pony such as herself. ‘I’ll give him a few more minutes...’
 
She lowered her hoof to the ground and peered wearily at her surroundings. The skeletal half-buried remains of rusty, twisted transmission towers dotted the landscape for as far as she could see, like the partially skeletal corpse of a massive metal snake. Weak rays of Celestia’s sun shone through its thick cloud curtain and kissed the vast, sandy expanse before being hidden away, as if a parent was keeping two lovers apart.

With a grunt, she picked herself up off the floor and stretched her weary limbs, almost gagging at the wave of morning sickness that assaulted her. Two days in the Zona and she was already feeling the harsh effects of the wasteland, yet had nothing to show for her work, unless her Stable of nearly one-thousand ponies could survive on a few irradiated puddles of water and scattered patches of dried desert weeds, of course. She gathered her meager belongings and packed them away neatly into her saddlebag.

Leaky breathed deeply through her nose and sighed, then squeezed into her security armor. It seemed to shrink every day. Strapping her machete’s scabbard onto her thigh and her 10mm pistol into its holster, she continued her still fruitless search for civilization and settlement in the Zona.
 


 *************************************************************************



The soft clicking of Leaky's radiation counter was met with an exhausted sigh, she buried her hooves into her face and shook her head. Dragging her hooves across her eyes, she despondently brought up her Pipbuck. She navigated its interface and started recording.
 
        “Leaky Faucet’s log: Day 2, time... 11:24 in the morning.” She paused and looked around the valley she found herself in. “Quadrant 4A2 is a complete bust. The lake in the valley is contaminated heavily by an unknown chemical, the source might be a crashed wagon on the western shore. Attempts to filter samples and purify them have met with failure, as the chemical remains there even after repeated treatment. Radiation in the area is minimal, but could be a problem in the long run. Moving to Quadrant 4A3.”
 
She packed her surveying tools away and trotted quickly to the borders of the valley, eager to escape her pipbuck’s ever present clicking. 

As the device on her forehoof fell silent, an ear splitting scream echoed off the valley’s walls and she stumbled
 
The scream was panicked and high-pitched. A filly’s. It seemed to come from over the cliff that shrouded Leaky’s position. She hurriedly scrambled over the incline and poked her head over the rocky ledge.
 
A little filly, no older than the curly-haired one back in Stable 16 that called her fat, was darting across a plain, a panicked expression painted on her tired, sweaty face. A brightly colored, smiling padlock adorned her bright green flank. “Nooo! I don’t wanna go back!! Please!!!”
 
A pink mare with a light blue mane dashed after her, the little filly’s short legs being no match for a fully grown earth mare’s speed. “You come back here this instant, little missy!” She had no weapons on her, but wore a dainty flower-pattern frock and an equally dainty sunhat covered with flowers, which blew off her head in the chase
 
Just as the mare caught up to the filly, the ground in front of them erupted and sent the filly crashing backwards. The mare froze dead in her tracks.
 
A slender, purple-carapaced creature leaped out of the hole, its long claws sinking into the ground at the end of its spindly legs. The barbed tentacles protruding from its sides flailed as its smooth face slid open to reveal a wide, needle-toothed maw. Before Leaky could move in, it reared back and unleashed a scream like rusty metal grinding against a chalkboard, causing all to stagger back. The filly, staring in open-mouthed terror, began to turn, before the creature lunged forward with speed unbefitting its size, tearing off the filly's head in one quick, greedy bite.

She didn’t even have time to scream. 

Her headless body hobbled backwards and collapsed against the pink mare, still twitching. The filly’s pursuer stepped back in horror, flinging the corpse away from her, she turned tail to run, only to trip on her own hooves as the purple creature pounced onto her back.

Just as the monster reared again to maul its prey, a shot rang out, followed by the wet crunch of a bullet penetrating its carapace. The abomination shrieked like nails in a blender and staggered, trying to focus on the source of its newfound agony. “Hey! Over here!! Hey!!!” shouted Leaky, charging into the scene. 

She regretted the decision immediately and braked as she saw the purple fiend’s eyeless gaze lock onto her and begin to position itself to charge. The horrified pink mare furtively crawled to safety, her beautiful dress being stained with dirt and the filly’s blood, silently muttering “Oh my, oh my, oh my...”
 
The monster lowered its head and bared its nest of bloody teeth as it slowly padded towards Leaky. It was stalking her. 

“Okay,” Leaky thought out-loud, her horn glowing as her machete slid from its scabbard. “You can do this. Just like training...”

‘...except training didn’t have hell beasts.’

 

The vaguely-avian monstrosity paced around her for what seemed an eternity before bending its knees and snapping forward in the space of a heartbeat. Leaky braced herself and brought up SATS, aiming for the fiend’s long, thin neck. The blade swung shallow and drove into the creature’s chitinous hide with little effort, sending the unbalanced abomination tumbling into the dirt (Super Slam!). It attempted to screech in justified agony as it writhed wildly on the ground, its agonized screams turning to distressed gurgles as it writhed on the ground, blood pooling in its throat. Leaky grimly pulled out the machete with a gory SCHWIK as the creature continued to writhe, blood spurting from its mangled neck.
 
“Go on, dearie...” spoke the pink mare as she walked out from behind a boulder she had hid behind. “Even boogies don’t deserve to suffer.”
 
Leaky looked at the mare, then back at the writhing abomination before her. She raised her machete over her head and closed her eyes. The creature screeched and convulsed, and with one wet thwack, its body lay still.
 
She had killed molerats and coyotes before during her short stay in the Zona, but this thing was over 3 times the size of anything she previously fought. She felt a mixture of pride and disgust.
 
“Awful beasties, those flanamingos are,” spoke up the mare with the now-ruined frock. “Opportunistic scavengers. They pop up when ya least expect it.” Her face went from grim to blindingly cheerful in a blink of an eye. “Thank ya for the assist! I was a goner fer sure! My name’s Plum Puddin’.” Her bright smile juxtaposed her blood-splattered form.




 
“Yeah... no problem...” A quick glance at the still-twitching headless corpse of the filly was more than enough to almost bring Leaky into a gagging fit. A young life, full of so much potential, snagged away by this savage, loveless place. She looked at the mare morosely, a welling pit of sadness threatening to expand cancerously into her voice. “I’m sorry… I wasn’t fast enough...”

The blood splattered mare sucked her teeth at the sight. “Ya. A downright shame, that is. You never get used to seein’ stuff like that, no matter how long you’ve been out here.”

“Who was she?” asked Leaky, shifting her weight. “Why were you chasing her?”

Plum tilted her head and squinted, then nodded with realization. “Oh, her... ya... poor Pots. A homeless child from my town. Real sweet kid, she was. Her parents were killed by raiders a while back, so we put her in the orphanage... we did the best to care fer her, but she kept runnin’ away. This is the farthest she’s got...” She shook her head and sighed. “Such is life, eh.”
 
“I’m starting to realize...” lamented Leaky. Her head shot up in afterthought. “Wait, town? You have a town out here?”
 
The mare beamed again and swole her chest with pride. “Oh ya. She’s quite the beaute. We got almost everythin’ a pony could ask fer. Why? Lookin’ fer supplies, are ya?”
 
“Sort of,” confessed Leaky. “I’m looking for--” 

Plum raised a hoof and interrupted. “Hold that thought, dearie. Whatever problems ya got can hold on till we get back to town. It would be a real honor to have you there; everythin’ will be on the house, so to speak! ”
 
“It wouldn’t be a bother?” asked Leaky. The sprightly mare flashed that incorrigible smile again.
 
“Of course not!” she chirped. “Don’t be silly! Havin’ a plucky hero such as yerself visit our town would be a downright blessing!” She leaned forward and winked. “And if anypony has a problem with that, I‘m the mayor, I can tell ‘em to go shove it!” She tittered and covered her mouth with her hoof. “Oh my, pardon my language! Let’s get goin’, shall we?” She began to leisurely trot towards the way she originally came from. Leaky noticed a plum-shaped cutie mark on her flank as the wind picked up slightly.
 
“If you insist, Mrs. Pudding” said Leaky with the sincerest smile she could muster as she began to follow her new tour guide.
 
“Ooh, so proper! Such manners! I like you, adventurer you! What’s yer name, anywho?”
 
“Leaky. Leaky Faucet.”
 
“What a pretty name! Just rolls right off the tongue, doesn’t it? Say Leaky, what do ya know about plums?”


******************************************************************


This mare sure knows about plums...’

She was by no means an unpleasant companion, but things tend to border ridiculous when somepony knows the exact PH of a plum during the summertime and wintertime.
 
“...And that’s how plums got their name! Or so my great grandpa Crazy Eyes said. Boy, he sure had some really crazy eyes, I’ll tell ya what. Ooh, we’re here!” Plum stopped her sprightly trot and extended a hoof towards a brightly colored sign decorated with intricately drawn vines, peppered lightly with tiny colorful hoofprints, most likely made by children. “Welcome to Plumwood!”
 
To the left of that decorative sign was an expansive town made up of prim and proper wooden houses packed in neat rows. Ponies trotted in and out of its various stores and stalls, happily greeting each other as they pass. Colorful birds sat perched above the houses, making sweet music that filled the air. It was the very definition of a happy, bustling town.
 
“Wow... this is quite the town...” Leaky thought out-loud. “But… where are the children?” She had seen ponies of all shapes and sizes, all except fillies and colts.
 
“School, honey bun” responded her jovial tour guide. “We have all sorts of institutions here in Plumwood. The children are our future, after all! And they need all the help groomin’ them for said future.”
 
“That’s good to know” Leaky added quietly. Plum looked back with a smile that hadn’t faded yet. 

“Why’s that dearie?”
 
“Well...” Leaky pointed at her belly. Her security barding must have been covering the majority of her baby bump.
 
“Oh my! And all out on your own like this? How brave of you! What do you--”

“Hold on up now, Mrs. Mayor!” interrupted a stallion’s voice from behind. Leaky turned to the voice. She accidentally staggered back as she saw a pony with a long, finely combed mustache approach, a giant ten-gallon hat bopping on his head as he trotted quickly. “We’ve got a situatio--”

Plum spun around sharply. “Yes, Sheriff Stu. I am aware of the child that ran away.” She shook her head sadly. “Got attacked by flanamingo. Didn’t make it, the poor thing. Please send a party to the Bone Spur Flats to retrieve the filly’s body before nightfall.” 

He stopped dead in his tracks and covered his mustachio’d mouth with a hoof. His demeanor changed almost immediately. “Beg yer pardon. I wasn’t aware there were... visitors today.”

“I’m aware, Sheriff Stu,” smiled the chipper mayor. “This scrappy heroine’s name is Leaky Faucet. Saved my skin from the awful beastie that took the runaway child’s life, she did! Ya don’t have any objections to her visit, do ya now?”

The presumed sheriff rubbed the back of his brown mane. “Ah... ’spose not, May’r Plum. Jus’ with current events n’ all--”

The pink mare raised a hoof to cut him off, never once faltering her smile. “I am very well aware of current events, Sheriff Stu. But the day I can’t invite ponies to my town is the day I turn broodmother for an entire colony of flanamingos.” Before the sheriff could respond, Plum raised her voice and patted the stallion’s shoulder, her tone seemingly even more cheerful than before. “Glad we could get that sorted out!”

The sheriff lowered his hat slightly down his face. “Ya, sure. Don’t wanna be a bother.”

Leaky’s ears perked slightly as she heard his accent falter ( [Perception 5+] Success!). She noticed that under that cheesy cowpoke accent she had seen many times in old films back in Stable 16, he actually had the same pleasant twang Plum did.

“Why, ah… do you talk like that, Mr. Sheriff?” inquired Leaky, innocently curious.

The sheriff staggered backwards, taken aback at the accusation. “We’hl ah’d nevar! I don’t know watchoo mean right thar!” Leaky cringed at the mish-mash of incomprehensible drawls the sheriff attempted to emulate. Trying to decipher which one he was even attempting was like trying to find ones way out of a maze with no exits.

Plum Pudding let out a long unsuppressed snicker and shooed the make-believe cowpoke away with a hoof. “Run along now, ya empty-headed fruitcake!”

A gaggle of gossipers tittered at the sight of their sheriff being put in his place. The eccentric stallion harumphed and trotted away quickly to avoid any further embarrassment, his spurs jingle-jangling as the leather strips of his chaps bounced flamboyantly. Plum giggled contently and shook her head. “Well now, I believe I had somethin’ to show ya!”

As the two walked, an expansive orchard came into view, the greenest thing Leaky had seen since she began her journey. Plump and purple fruit hung low from the branches, with nearly every tree carrying this welcome burden.
 
Leaky was brought to her flanks out of sheer amazement. “How did... how did you make all this?”
 
Plum Pudding rubbed her hoof on her dress then examined her faux-polished hoof playfully. “Hard work and dedication, Leaky. Any pony can do wonders with those two.” She nudged Leaky’s side. “Plus a few spells and talismans I found lying around. A little magic never hurt a cause, eh?” She giggled at her own joke and sighed in contentment. “It wasn’t always like this, though. When our ancestors back in Stable 30 came out of their hole in the ground, this place was just as barren as the rest of this awful wasteland!”

“Plumwood came from a Stable?” asked Leaky.

“Yahuh!” chirped Plum. “Farmin’ based Stable, from what I recall. Equipped with pretty much everythin’ one would need to grow crops anywhere, even a giant metal coffin that doesn’t get sunlight or barren badlands that want ta’ kill ya!” She stared admirably at the green ocean in front of them, contrasted by the horrid shade of dead brown that surrounded them otherwise. “Those goobers at Stable-Tec only gave the ponies of Stable 30 five years worth of food, and they were expected to grow the rest themselves. Jokes on them, we came out pretty alright, I’d say!”

‘More than alright’ she thought, dumbstruck. 

“We’ve known nothin’ but hard, honest work and mutual co-operation. We haven’t even had a town disagreement here in over a decade! As a result, we have enough crops here to last us year-round, whatever we don’t eat ourselves, we trade and sell to caravans. Quite the profitable business!”
 
“What type of crops?” croaked out Leaky, still in awe.
 
“Plums, mostly!” she chirped.

Of course.

“We do also grow corn and apples, but they’re not as big, or juicy, or sweet, or tender...” She began to drool slightly before shaking her train of thought back on track. “Now then! I believe you had something you wanted to ask of our little town?”
 
Leaky suddenly felt embarrassed at remembering her goal. It was a lot to ask.
 
“Well... I’m on a mission, of sorts...” she began.
 
“Ooh! How eventful!” interrupted the chipper mare.

“I come from a place far back west. We need food, shelter, a place to stay... everything that kept us there is quickly running out. I know it’s a lot to ask--”
 
The mayor raised her hoof, silencing Leaky. “How many ponies, dearie.”
 
Leaky cringed slightly and muttered. “Almost a thousand…?”
 
“Oh my...”
 
“But we’re willing to trade our water talismans and our nuclear reactor for this intrusion. With both, your town can thrive even with the added load of all our people, not to mention that we are readily willing to commit the stallions of our group to whatever hard labor you might need.”
 
“Water talismans, eh...? And a nuclear reactor... that will be good for the winter...” Plum sat on the ground and put a hoof to her chin. “We have been meaning to expand... and we are lookin' for some workmen to expand the town...”
 
Leaky played with her hooves uncomfortably, waiting on the blue-haired earth pony that held the fate of her people in her hooves to make a town-altering decision.
 
Plum stomped those hooves to the ground. “Oh, what the heck. The more the merrier! Maybe with all of your people, we can finally put ol’ Plumwood up top! How does a hundred ponies every month sound? That would give us enough time to expand accordingly.” 

Leaky’s heart leapt with joy at the news. “That’s wonderful! Thank you so very much, Mrs. Pudding!” She hugged the mayor, squeezing her tight. 

“Oof! Careful, dearie! Ha! No one can talk things over to the folks of Plumwood if ya squeeze me to death!”
 
“Heh... sorry...” Leaky stepped back from the mayor.

“No worries sweetie, everypony needs a big ‘ol hug now and then, and I was due for my next one!” She stepped over to Leaky and looked up to the twilight sky. “Now then. It’s almost night, doncha’ think? Flanamingos are especially terrible after dusk. We can’t have you out and about with all those beasties out there, especially in your condition! Why doncha’ stay here for the night and stock up, and you can go tell yer folks in the mornin’ that they can come on over in about a week or so?”

Leaky nodded profusely. “Yes, I’ll do that. Thank you, Mrs. Pudding, thank you so much.”

Plum scoffed and waved a hoof. “Nonsense, sweet pea! It’s the neighborly thing to do, after all! Now then. We have a spare room at the motel right over thereby. I’d be honored if you stayed there until mornin’ comes around. All amenities provided, o’ course.”

“Sounds good, Mrs. Pudding,” Leaky was riding a great high.

“Oh, and of course dearie, one last request,” started Plum. “Well, two actually.”

“Anything, Mrs. Pudding,” nodded Leaky.

“That’s the spirit!” chirped the mare. Her face suddenly went grim. “So. We captured a beastie the other day. Nasty thing. Tore right through four of our caravan workers. I implore ya to stay away from the supply shed marked with a big red ‘X’. For yer own safety, of course.” Her trademark grin came back just as suddenly as it went. “Right! Well. The second! We’ve had a mighty awful radroach infestation as of late. Seeing as these buggies are immune to most magic and poisons, our exterminator used a spell that teleported them all in one place until we can find a way to kill ‘em all in one swoop. So don’t go there unless you like creepy crawlies!” 

Leaky shivered. She remembered when a radroach crawled on her face in Stable 16 while she slept, and how all her legs were pinned by the sleeping ponies in the hallway around her so she couldn’t get it off. The radroach stayed on her face for almost a full minute. Her dad claimed she was never the same after that.

“Don’t worry, I won’t...” She was more curious about the creature they caught. As much as she hated to admit it, the encounter with the flanamingo back at the plain had left her fascinated by the mutations the wasteland had made. Training had only scratched the surface of what The Outside was capable of.

“Wonderful! Now, you must be starved, you poor thing!” 

Leaky hadn’t noticed, but she was shaking from hunger. Perhaps excitement? She nodded. 

“Well, let’s get that sorted out then! We have the best chef in all the Zona. Well, so he says! If you could cook with the hot air that pony blows out of his ears, you wouldn’t need a nuclear reactor!” She snorted and chortled heartily, before stomping the ground. “Goodness, I kill myself!”


*************************************************************************************************


        “Holy moley...”

        Leaky had never seen so much food in her life. A dining table that stretched as far as the expansive room was stacked high with all kinds of edibles. Plum salad, plum-marinated beef, plum juice, plum cake... and those were just the plum themed ones. Her mouth salivated as the air hung thick with sweet and savory smells, paying little mind to the countless excited side-conversations about the new visitor that saved their mayor earlier.

        CLINK CLINK!

        The conversations died down as Plum politely tapped a spoon she held in her teeth to a glass full of what Leaky half-believed was plum wine. She nodded appreciatively at the crowd, then began. “I have a few things to tell you all, if ya’d let me. Really quick, I promise.”

        She cleared her throat and adjusted her prim and proper light-blue mane. “Now then. I’m sure ya’ve heard talk about a possible expansion and, well, this perky pony right here next to me.” She lifted a hoof towards Leaky, who blushed intensely at the sudden attention. “So I’ve called this here feast with Plumwood’s more important citizens to make an announcement: I have decided to take the ponies of Stable 16 in as our own.”

        A slight murmur raised among the room, the looks of concerns washing over the seated ponies. Leaky slid down in her seat. Things were going badly, she just knew it. “Ya, I know, I know,” continued Plum as an aura of confidence radiated around her. “It’s a lot to ask for from our little town.” 

The room nodded in agreement before being cut off again by Plum’s sprightly voice. “But I assure ya all, the benefits they provide more than outweighs the strain they’ll put on Plumwood; I’ve been offered use of their technology. Pipbucks, water talismans, nuclear frikkin’ reactors… even the corridors and rooms of Stable 16 are lined with precious metals we can strip and use. And that’s just the tech! We will also have a working force of over six hundred and fifty stallions at our disposal, and you know all know badly we’ve needed ponies to tend the orchard, don’cha?” Plum winked at nopony in particularly and smiled. “As well as our orchards, aren’t I right gals?”

Scandalous tittering rose amongst the dining room. Leaky raised a hoof slowly. “Y-Yeah. Genetic diversity and all.”

Plum chuckled and shook her head. “Yer a peach, Leaky.” Her head shot up in realization. “Oh! And this here bundle of heroism is Leaky Faucet, representative of Stable 16 and overall hero. She selflessly dove in front of the very same flanamingo that took the life of Pots, the poor filly who ran away this mornin’. May the Goddesses Luna and Celestia take her on as their own.” The ponies in the room nodded and let out various words of regret and mourning.

“Tonight is not the time fer stuffy debates and such. We’ll do all that boring bit o’ business tomorrow. Tonight is time for celebration, for both the future assimilation of Stable 16 into the fine town of Plumwood...” Plum grandly waved a hoof at Leaky and smiled warmly. “And fer Leaky Faucet, to whom I owe a great debt to that I can never repay. Here’s ta’ you!”
 
        Plum grasped her glass with her mouth and knocked the drink back, somehow splashing none of the wine on her or decorative frilled dress. “Let’s eat!”

Leaky’s heart jumped at the word “eat”. She was starved. She had been eyeing the food all evening. Strict rations all her life, despite her newfound need to eat for two made it hard to believe that this was really all hers. The ponies around her helpfully passed giant platefuls of food around as others gladly served themselves. Cheerful conversations about picking out new clothes to greet the new arrivals and other pleasantries quickly filled the air in between polite bites. 

Even out here in The Outside, the ponies of Plumwood ate better than the sheltered dwellers of Stable 16, and were all that much nicer for it. No squabbling for scraps, no fear of riots or burglaries, no wondering how far you should space out your “meals” to make them last longer.

Leaky’s train of thought was interrupted by a chubby mare with a wavy purple mane placing a plateful of food before her. She smiled sweetly and displayed a mouthful of metal inlayed in her teeth. “Thanks fer savin’ our mayor, puddin’. Dunno what we’d do without ‘er.”

Opening her mouth to thank the mare, Leaky just ended up gaping at the portions in front of her. This had to be at least two times more than what she usually ate in a regular week. A thick, succulent steak was surrounded by mountains of sides. Steamed carrots and pureed sweet potatoes sat seductively on her plate as fluffy rolls released delicate, buttery steam that made her nose tingle. Her magic nearly faltered as she cut off a piece of the steak with a shaky knife and saw it release juices like she used to fantasize about when reading old pre-war griffin cookbooks. She brought the meat, utensil and all, to her salivating mouth.
        
Her eyes went wide at her first taste as flavors she’d only fantasized of before swam over her tongue. A small moan escaped her throat as she chewed, savoring the feeling of the rich juices sliding across her tongue, brought to life by the kick of peppercorn. She greedily spooned up a mouthful of carrots and pureed sweet potatoes next, desperate to fill her waiting stomach for the first time in her life. She tried to swallow, but ended up just sputtering instead. 

“Woah, slow down there Leaky!” chortled Plum Pudding as she began buttering a roll. “I haven’t even seen a flanamingos with an appetite like that!”

“Ahghf… Sorrf..." Leaky finished swallowing her mouthful of food and wiped her mouth with a foreleg. “Sorry, Mrs. Pudding… It’s just… I’ve never had food like…” She almost lost her train of thought as she looked back to her plate, the succulent juices shining seductively at her. “...this.”

“Oh?” began Plum as she took a polite bite out of the piece of bread. “Why’s that, dearie? Don’t ya eat well over there?”

Leaky looked around at the townsponies, all happily pacing their bites between conversations. “Not at all... the Overmare tells us we've been on rations since before she came to office. We've always had more mouths than feed, really, more than we could handle.”

Plum gasped and put a hoof to her mouth. “Dear me! No wonder you folks are in such a hurry to get out of there!” She put the bread down and walked over to Leaky, putting a hoof on her shoulder. “Eat slower, dear. Have you ever tried cleaning up a plate with bread before? It gives yer stomach a break if you’re not used to eating like this.”

She nodded and tore off a hunk of bread, sweeping it across the plate to sop up the juices. The mayor sat back on her chair and scowled at some tittering onlookers before retraining her attention at Leaky.

“So, dearie,” Plum leaned on the table with both forelegs and propped her head up with her hooves. “Tell me a bit about Stable 16.”        

Leaky nibbled on the edge of the crust. She hadn't expected just how tasty the bread could be. “There’s… not much to tell, I think. We’ve been under strict rationing for as long as anypony could remember. There's the rations, and the overpopulation, and the...” Leaky trailed off, unsure if telling her host of Stable 16’s tendency for riots was a sound idea, especially if the inhabitants of the Stable were to migrate over to her town. She took another mouthful of food.

“The what?” Plum smiled a warm lipped smile.

“You know... just… civil unrest.” Somehow, downplaying the situation felt worse than lying. “My grandmother said that, back when the Overmare first put started the rations, the ponies were so angry that they busted down the door to her office, hacking her terminal to prove that she was just hiding the food for herself. Instead, they stumbled on the greatest secret of the Stable...”

“Ooh, what kind?”

Leaky leaned in and looked around at the jovial, clueless ponies around her and whispered. “They learned that since it was built, Stable-Tec hid a talisman somewhere around Stable 16 that released some kind of chemical into the vents. It was supposed to make mares more fertile, and made males more... potent, I guess, and halve pregnancy times. As you can guess, population got out of control really fast... ”

“Interestin’...” pondered Plum, crossing her forelegs. “Could ya maybe bring that over here too? Maybe with that talisman of yers, repopulation of the wastes in general would be much faster! Put our orchards in overdrive, so to speak, eh?” She winked at the obliviously nodding Leaky..

After a moment, Leaky leaned out of the conversation and focused on her plate of food, already starting to get cold. ”Doubt it, Mrs. Pudding. Ponies have tried looking for the talisman, but it’s too well-hidden.” She picked up a piece of bread in her telekinesis, but talk of her dying Stable was putting her off even this. “Since it first closed one-hundred and sixty years ago, Stable 16 went from completely underpopulated to nearly max capacity.” 

“What about weapons?” barked a stallion as he approached from behind Plum. His oversized chef hat was sitting neatly on top oh his also oversized ten gallon hat.

Leaky almost choked on her food as she sputtered. “Sheriff Stu?” 

The gaudily-dressed stallion harumphed and sat beside his mayor. Interestingly, he wore an apron above his flashy cowpoke costume.

Plum snorted and covered her muzzle. “Fer cryin’ out loud, Beef Stew! Do ya HAFTA wear that redonkulous get-up all the time?!”

The sheriff blushed and removed the chef’s hat from his headwear. “I take mah job very seriously, May’r Plum.”

“Apparently not, you half-cooked potato!” she laughed loudly and held her belly. “And stop with the accent! She already knows yer a big heapin’ phony!”

The stallion snatched his ten-gallon from his head and crossed his arms. “Fine. My question still stands. What good is your stable in a fight?”

With the uncomfortable topic of her dying Stable behind them, Leaky felt her hunger return. She served herself more carrots and brought a spoonful of them up to her mouth. “I don’t know about any of that, Sheriff Stu… Most of our good weapons were sent off with the first wave of volunteers a few months ago. No one ever came back, so whatever happened to them--Goddesses bless them--the same happened to their supplies.” She looked down at her cracked, scratched armor and the worn pistol strapped to her flank, thankful that at least she had the elegant machete strapped to the other flank to save her from the flanamingo on the plateau, some priceless heirloom requisitioned for her mission. “The second wave, my wave, got by with whatever the Overmare could find, even if that meant taking supplies from other ponies. We were told they were ‘donations’, but we knew what it meant. We were really scraping the bottom of the barrel for what we have... ”

The corner of Sheriff Stu’s mouth twisted. “So yer useless. In an event of an attack, all you’d be is a higher body count.”

“Alright, that’s enough outta you!” shouted Plum as she slammed her hooves into the dining room table. The longhouse went silent as prying eyes leaned over each other, curious as to what the commotion was. A single strand of the mayor’s pristine light-blue mane fell out of place as her eyes shot daggers at the suddenly cowering cook-turned-sheriff. 

Plum realized the ponies around her were stopping their meals and gossip to stare at her. She straightened her back and fixed her mane before smiling sweetly at the stallion. “Now, Sheriff, I believe the party you sent out to Bone Spur Flats has retrieved Pot’s body by now, I would highly appreciate it if ya would bury her in the park near town hall. Now, if you may.”

The sheriff faltered once before putting his hat back on and taking off his apron. “Of course, Mayor Plum.” He tilted his hat forward and hurriedly walked out of the longhouse, eager to get away from the eyes following him out.

“Alright, alright, nothin’ to see,” started Plum. “Just a little friendly misunderstanding, is all. Back to eating, shall we?”

The ponies in the room slowly resumed their chatter and clattering of plates, rumors about the unfortunate sheriff already flying.

Plum turned to a quiet Leaky, still recovering from Plum’s outburst. She smiled again, as warmly as ever. “Try the plum cake, dearie. It’s a Plumwood delicacy.”



*************************************************************************************************


        ‘I shouldn’t have eaten the plum cake...’

Leaky stumbled out of the longhouse and took a long inhale of the brisk, smoky night air. It did little to alleviate how painfully stuffed she was. It was a pleasant feeling, nonetheless.

“Maybe next time you’ll leave some scraps for the dogs!” playfully chided Plum, nowhere near as full as Leaky. “Get some sleep, dearie! We both got a long day ahead of us tomorrow!”

Leaky just burped in response, immediately covering her mouth with her hoof in embarrassment. Plum chuckled. “Just ten months and all of yer people can eat like that. See ya in the mornin’ when you head off, dearie. May the Goddess Luna grant you blissful sleep and all that jazz.” 

She waved goodnight to the mayor and stumbled on over to her motel room. Even with an appetite for two, she was full enough for an entire town.

She opened the door to her room and collapsed on the bed, exhausted from day’s events. Her room was nice, if a bit small by Plumwood standards, but it was a luxury for Leaky. She took off her Stable barding with a groan and tossed the armor on the floor. Leaky’s ears focused on the pleasant white noise of a sleepy town provided in its last waking moments; a squeaky wagon rolling along a particularly pebble-ridden road, a small dog barking from a window, businessponies closing up the hatches to their shop. Nights at the Stable were always either really noisy or really quiet, but this was just perfect.

I could get used to this.

All at once, the high she was riding came down. Leaky’s eyelids grew dim, and she yawned a final time before clicking on her Pipbuck radio to lull her to sleep.

“--orrow’s weather forecast reads… Oh, who am I kidding. It’s going to be hot. It’s always fucking hot out here. ‘Cept when it’s night. I can feel icicles dangling off my flank as we speak.

“But fret not, ponyfriends. I’m in a good mood tonight. Don’t know why. Chalk it up to that full moon you can see poking from the cloud cover. Turning me into a werepussy or some shit.

“In any case, let me warm your cold black hearts a bit with something sweet and slow. For now, this is your favorite oozing primordial slime Muckracker, asking you, yes YOU: is love in the air, or is raining asbestos again?”


“♫My love must be a kind of blind love


I can't see anyone but you~



Are the stars out tonight?


I don't know if it's cloudy or bright


I only have eyes for you, dear~♫”





	


> Chapter 3: Mother
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 3: Mother


        Leaky could hardly believe it. Grass in The Outside. She’d only read about it in pre-war books, and other than the dead and dried up patches of vegetation that dotted the Zona, she had never seen anything like it. Not even Plum’s trees made her this giddy.

Soft green blades tickled the undersides of her hooves as she ran them through a particularly green patch and couldn’t help but smile. The scent of various flowers were carried by a soft, gentle breeze that playfully brushed her mane aside. The bakeries opened early this morning, so the streets were filled with the delicate, buttery aromas of fresh baked goods. 

        It was perfect.

        She trotted down the streets and spotted Mrs. Sugarbottom haggling with an annoyed townspony. The stallion she was arguing with sighed and levitated a sack of coins out and grumbled off. Leaky chuckled and shook her head, knowing Mrs. Sugarbottom had a special talent for squeezing more out of patrons. Children chased each other and squealed in delight as they played their silly little games, dressed in faux-armor made of cardboard and pans making shooting noises with their mouths.

        A beige filly with black hair spotted Leaky and jumped off the barrel she was pretending to shoot from. “Mom! Look at me!” shouted the filly as she ran up to her. She spun in circles energetically, showing off her costume. Little more than a colander helmet, cloth kneepads and an oddly familiar cape, the armor was as almost as adorable as the filly.“Isn’t it cool? I made it myself!”

Leaky smiled at her, faking astonishment. “Yeah, sweetie, it’s amazing! Especially that cape! Where have I seen that before...”

The filly’s nose scrunched as she stepped back. “I’ll put the curtains back after I’m done! Swear!”

“Alright, alright,” she giggled. “But don’t get them too dirty, okay? It’s harvest day and I’m going to be too busy to clean them.”

The filly nodded profusely, helmet wobbling precariously. “Okie! Promise!”

One of the children she was playing with screamed and fell to the floor, tongue hanging out. “Drippy! Requesting assistaaaaance!”

“Oh no!” gasped the filly. She looked back at her mother and stamped her hooves to the ground. “Mom! Mom! Can I go? Can I?! I need to go save the day!” 
        
        Leaky chuckled and patted the filly on the shoulder. “Go! Quick! They need your help!”

        “Yus!” agreed the filly as she saluted her. “Oh, and Ms. Plum was lookin’ for you. She says to go meet her at the orchard when you can. Okaybye!” The little beige bolt ran off, making shooty noises with her mouth. The children ran away and squaled in delight, some falling to the floor and kicking their hooves in the air in pretend-agony.

        Leaky stood there, wanting to admire the scene longer, but sighed contentedly and trotted off along the dirt path.

        An ocean of green came into view as she happily made her way out of the bustling town. Mares and stallions of various shapes and sizes worked tirelessly, tending to tall majestic trees carrying a bounty of fruits. Workers on ladders carried baskets on their backs and plucked ripe rewards from their sagging branches while the ponies below them dug trenches, placing healthy-looking crops into the modest holes and moving on to the next row.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it?” chirped a mare from behind. Her delightfully yellow dress blew in the wind and contrasted her dulled pink coat. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Plumwood be so productive!”

Leaky smiled and nodded sweetly. “Hi, Ms. Plum. You wanted to see me?”

Plum waved a hoof and walked up beside her, never ceasing that trademark warm smile. “Ah, nothin’ important dearie. Just wanted to talk to ya about some boring politics, but that can wait for later, Ms. Mayor.” She tittered and sighed. “That’s so weird still, comin’ from my lips!”

The pair sat and admired the toiling of the ex-Stable dwellers. Not a single unhappy face, despite the taxing work. The positive vibes were contagious all over.

“Plum…” sighed Leaky. “I wanted to tell you something.”

Plum snorted and nickered playfully. “Yer not gonna thank me again, are ya?”

“Of course I am...” smiled Leaky. “I don't know what we would have done if we didn’t find Plumwood… or if you didn’t allow us to stay here in the first place.”

Her companion waved away her gratefulness with a hoof. “Nonsense, dearie. It’s not exactly like you folks were a burden, anyway.” She raised her forelegs in the air and pointed them at the fields before her. “Looks what you folks have done for us! Truly the Goddesses’ work.”

“I guess...” sighed Leaky again. “I don’t know… It’s like, I don’t know how we can ever repay you.”

“Well!” chirped Plum with a broad smile. “You can start by tongue-punching my rotten clit!”

Leaky stumbled backwards, jaw nearly hanging off the floor. “W-what..?”

“You heard me, you wood-peckered smoothskin!” Plum stepped forward, smile growing by the second. Her voice steadily became deeper and deeper until it became irritatingly familiar “Start licking!”


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


“--And so I was just standing there, bleeding out of fucking everywhere, ready to meet whatever fiery afterlife ponies used to believe in, and this fucking ghoul merchant was ransoming sex from me in return for medical attention. 

“I couldn’t believe it either at the time, ponyfriends. You can’t make this kind of shit up out here.

“It’s not like I had a fucking choice though, right? I was dying!

“So, with blood coming out of my mouth and everything, I leaned into that zombie’s putrid ass, grabbed both flanks, and---”

Click!

With a button press, Leaky spared herself further details from the radio pony’s tale of ‘conquest’.

‘Auuughh...’ thought Leaky as she rubbed her tired eyes, slightly traumatized at the sudden turn of an otherwise pleasant dream about the future of Plumwood. ‘Always happens to the good ones...’

GUURRRG

Leaky looked down at her round belly and rubbed it tenderly. Coming from an entire lifetime of living under strict rations, she was very well acquainted with that sound. She brought up her Pipbuck and navigated its interface with a few clicks, casting the small room in a faint green glow.

“1am… huh.”

She had only slept for 3 hours, and her hunger had already returned. Leaky shrugged and propped herself up off her bed, wondering if the longhouse was still open, and more importantly, if they kept leftovers. She slid off the bed onto her lethargic hooves and stretched. Being pregnant wasn't getting any easier.

She trotted to the door and grasped the doorknob in her telekinesis before pausing. She had remembered a side conversation during the feast earlier about a curfew. ‘It’s just a quick snack,’ she reasoned as she opened the door and peered outside.

The streets were quiet, bathed in small freckles of moonlight, silent enough that she could hear her heartbeat. Leaky breathed in the crisp night air and trotted towards the longhouse.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


“Hello?” Leaky whispered loudly. No response.

She tapped a hoof sternly at the wooden door’s glass window. A single candle illuminated the interior of the longhouse; the tables were depressingly clean, not a crumb sitting on their polished faces.

She sighed and slumped. She could go without eating for tonight, just like she had managed every other day of her life. But now that she had the option not to, her hunger was almost impossible to ignore.

She skulked to the steps of the building and sat her haunches down, wondering if any of the shops were still open for business at this late an hour, questioning the morality of extorting free food from innocent ponies with her ‘saved the mayor’ card.

“Hey, dearie...” a somber voice floated from nearby, as if somepony was trying to force a smile while giving bad news. “A bit late to be wanderin’ aboat, isn’t it?”

Leaky looked up across the street. Plum sat at the steps of a big, beautiful house, decorated with a single modest plaque. “Mayor Plum Pudding, charismatic leader of our fine town.”

“Oh… Hi, Ms. Plum.” She noticed a large weapon of some kind cradled in her hooves, a large tapered barrel topping it’s tip. “Ahhh, you okay, Ms. Plum?”

She smiled and nodded her head slowly. “Yah, dearie. I’m fine. Just… thinkin’ aboat stuff, ya know?”

“What about, Ms Plum?” asked Leaky, eyes locked on the weapon in the mayor’s hooves; the polished wooden stock gleamed in the moonlight, well cared for. The metal barrel was pristine and scratchless, without a hint of rust on its intricately engraved face.

“Ah… Y’know. This and that.” She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach to her somber eyes. “Have a seat next to me, dearie. I could use some company.” She patted the wooden step next to her.

Leaky trotted across the dirt street and sat next to the mayor. “What happened, Ms. Pudding? You seem… down.”

Plum chuckled faintly. “Yer an observant pony, aren’cha?” 

She clasped the weapon in between her forehooves and placed it on her knees, staring quietly at the rifle for a few moments before starting with a longing sigh. “Y’know… when I first came into power over the fine folks of Plumwood, I was given this heap of metal and wood.”

The mayor traced the delicate floral carvings with the tip of her forehoof. “The old stallion who handed me it didn’t say anythin’, but I knew what it was for. It was an inheritance. Symbolism and all that jazz. I figured it was meant to be the extension of my will as protector of this town. Throughout my time as mayor here, I learned yer not fit to be anythin’ else without first proving ya have the will to do anythin’ fer yer people.”

She paused the tender caressing of her rifle and looked over at Leaky drearily, eyes filled with solid doubt. “What do ya know aboat sacrifice, Leaky?”

The Stable dweller turned to Plum, taken aback by the ordinarily chipper mare’s solemn question. “Sacrifice?”

“Yahuh,” nodded Plum. “Sacrifice. Like, ya know, givin’ somethin’ of yers up fer the bigger picture. What do ya know aboat it?”

“Well...” began Leaky. “I don’t know. We’ve been on rations for decades, just so we have almost enough food to go around. I guess that’s something.” She shrugged. “And… well, I chose to go out here all on my own, even with… you know.” She pointed at her round belly.

“Mm-hmm. That’s a good set o’ sacrifices, right there.” Plum paused, weighing her words.

“Why do you ask, Ms. Plum?”

Plum looked up at the moon poking it’s ethereal tendrils of light through a thick curtain of clouds. “For as long as history cares to remember, Leaky, ponies have been creatures of sacrifice. Know what I mean?”

She looked at Leaky, who blankly stared back, intrigued but lost. 

“When the folks of Stable 30 first came to what is now Plumwood, they didn’t have the amenities we enjoy today. We took our Pipbucks, one of the last bit of home we had left, and we broke them down fer parts to build our power grids. Our Stable-grown trees, the things we had cherished more than anything, were chopped down and became our houses. Countless lives were lost defending our people from the savage creatures that fill this horrible place. And fer what, Leaky? A few crops? A couple of houses? The luxury of stuffin’ yer face with food everyday?”

She shook her head and continued. “No. We did it fer our future. Do ya get what I’m smellin’ at?”

Leaky nodded slowly. “I… think, Ms. Plum”

“Even those infernal flanamingos were created a long time ago so frontline soldiers didn’t have to go die fer some meaningless war. Sure, it didn’t… quite pan out in the end, and it was really morally shady to be messin’ with the laws of nature like that in the first place. But ya gotta be willin’ to do whatever ya can to guarantee yer people’s future, even if it means doing somethin’ you don’t fully agree with.” 

Plum let out a long, drawn out sigh as she clasped the rifle in firing position. “It’s our sacrifice, Leaky. Our sacrifice makes us ponies.”

Leaky held her hooves together, not knowing how to respond to the monologue. 

“And now yer folks are comin’ over and makin’ Plumwood stronger. Sure, it will be a bit rough at the start. Sacrifice always is. But we’ll get there, and when we do, we’ll have no regrets.” She smiled her first genuine smile since Leaky found her on the steps of her house. “And that’s what life should be like, shouldn’t it? No regrets? Not even in the face of armageddon?”

“I suppose so, Mrs. Plum,” Leaky smiled back half-heartedly.

“We’ll be fine,” she reassured herself, trademark jubilance returning to her face. “We’ll be okay!”

She shot up from her porch and landed on all legs, rifle slung snuggly around her neck. “Thanks for the talk, dearie. Even if it was basically just me pourin’ my thoughts into yer earholes!” Plum giggled a bit and patted Leaky on the back.

GUUUUUURRRRG

Leaky covered her belly in embarrassment. She had almost forgotten how hungry she was. 

“Ah, that explains why you were wanderin’ around this late an hour!” Plum chirped, suppressing a giggle. “Well, I can make ya some sandwiches for ya to take back to yer room, if ya’d like!”

Leaky nodded. “That would be lovely, Ms. Plum.”

The mayor set the rifle beside a wall and opened the door to her house. “Great! Come inside and make yerself at home, dearie. Ooh! Have I ever told ya about how the acidity of plums shifts their flavor each season? It's quite the doozy!”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Holding the paper bag of sandwiches with her mouth was a bad idea. The whole walk back to her motel room was pleasant torture as smells of freshly sliced bread and daisies wafted to her nose. But she wasn’t thinking. She just wanted to eat.

Leaky opened the door to her modest room and jumped on her bed blissfully. She wrapped a sandwich in her telekinesis and hungrily ripped off a chunk, savoring the warmth of the still warm bread and the fresh crispness of the flowers. She never realized how tasty plants on bread would be.

She felt tiny kicks from her belly, causing her to tenderly rub her ever-growing bump. She smiled and layed back on her pillow. “It’s coming, it’s coming, hold on...”

Before she knew it, she was already down to the last bite. She lazily popped it into her mouth and reached into the bag for another. 

CLANK!

Her ears shot up at a noise, like the muffled clank of metal, somewhere near yet strangled by walls. She wearily picked herself up off the bed and peered across the street as she bit into her sandwich. An ugly shed of slightly rotting wood stared back at her, flanked on both sides by big finely painted houses. A red “O” was painted on its doors, a featureless face staring straight through her. Leaky pondered the stark contrast between it and the finely made houses that lined the town.

Another clank startled her. This one was significantly louder than the last, definitely coming from inside the shed.
        
Leaky scrunched her nose. Maybe it was a thief who found her way into a pony’s tool shed?

She wrapped her pistol in telekinesis and furtively made her way outside. If someone was indeed burglarizing the shed, stopping them was her duty as a soon-to-be member of Plumwood’s community.

As she made her way to the decrepit shed, she noticed no guards were patrolling the streets. There wasn’t even a lock. They were really trusting of everypony here. 

She suddenly remembered what Plum Pudding had told her about the exterminator trapping all the radroaches in town in one single shed. One marked with a red O. One exactly like this one. 

Leaky shivered and recoiled. No wonder there wasn’t a lock on this shed. A small room full of radroaches? Not exactly something a pony would want to snoop around looking for.

She pressed an ear against the door and listened deeply ( [Perception 8+] Success!). She heard faint movement inside, but whatever was there was way bigger than any radroach she had ever seen. And she’d seen plenty.

She slowly pushed the door open, prepared for any bigger-than-she’d-ever-seen radroaches to land on her, only to find a room faintly illuminated by a soft candle light. Leaky frowned and walked inside, making sure to latch the door shut on her way in. There weren’t any radroaches here. Given the lack of cockroach molts either, maybe there weren’t any to begin with.

‘Why would Plum lie to me?’ she wondered, feeling slightly hurt.

The walls were lined with crude hoof-paintings by children: suns, flowers, a happy plum, and a stick pony were just a few she managed to recognize. A lone, thick book sat by the candle illuminating the room. She remembered those stories she used to read in Stable 16 about nice towns full of friendly ponies turning out to be cannibals. She jokingly called back to the steak she ate earlier and how weird it would’ve have been if they were serving her other ponies.

She shook her head at the morbid thought. How tiringly cliche.

As Leaky walked over to the book, the floor made a hollow clang. Looking down, she saw a poorly disguised trap door, meagerly covered by a worn welcome mat featuring the sweet-smiling face of a yellow mare with a pink mane covering her soft turquoise eyes. “Please wipe your hooves!”

Leaky stared at the trap door. Whatever was in here, must have been big enough for Plum, a mare who’s life she had saved earlier today, to lie about its contents.

‘Just go back to the room...’ Leaky chided to herself. ‘Maybe it’s some spells, or their treasury. Whatever it is, it’s not your business, and definitely not worth risking Stable 16 over...’

She bit her lip. Not even she believed herself. She lifted the mat away and opened the trap door, praying to the Goddesses that it would be something uninteresting. Instead, all she saw were a score of tired, pleading eyes staring right back at her. She fell to her haunches in horror.

An underground cage was built into the dirt, a big iron padlock barring the doors shut. Children attempted to climb over each other to reach the new light source, stepping on the withers of the biggest. Their eyes adjusted to the new light and, upon seeing an unfamiliar face, a chorus of tiny exhausted voices began to swell and fill the room. “P-Please! Where did Pots go?” ”Where’s my mom?!” “I wanna go home!!” 

Leaky shut the trap door, unable to process the horror she had just seen. She felt disgusted and betrayed, but most of all, horrified. She pressed her ear against the trap door, the voices behind it subsiding to muffled sobbing and cries for help. 

“Children, please... I’m going to help... but I need you to be quiet.” Leaky spoke with the softest voice she could, attempting to choke down her anger and horror. The tiny voices on the other side subsided. “I’m going to open the door, but please... don’t make any noise.” She lifted the trapdoor, the sight no less heartbreaking than it previously was.

“What happened to you all? Who put you in here?” The sight made her stomach churn.

A pale blue colt with jet black hair and an eye covered in bandages spoke up.. “Our parents put us here... they said it was for the best of Plumwood. Ponies come every week to take some of us away... I-I just wanna go home...”

An older filly with braces spoke up. Her mane was matted with blood. “Pots was the only one that escaped... she picked the lock and promised us she’d send somepony big and strong and brave to help us. We haven’t heard of her since then... did Pots send you?!” The cage started clamoring again, all of the little ones asking similar questions. Leaky remembered that morning on the plain. The filly who was mauled by a flanamingo.

Leaky smiled softly and fought back tears. “Yes... Pots sent me. I’m that big, strong and brave pony, and I’m here to get you out of this cage.”

She looked at the padlock. It was heavy and made of iron. It was newly casted, probably after a little filly managed to pick the lock. Leaky had learned how to pick a lock from her friend Pilfer back at Stable 16 when they were raiding the sweets pantry, but this one seemed way beyond her skills. 

Leaky remembered what Plum had told her about the supply shed marked with an “X”, the one the monster was being held inside. If she could maybe find some bolt cutters, she could cut the lock open and rescue the children.

“I’ll be back, children. I promise. But you have to be quiet. I’ll be right back.”

The children looked up woefully at Leaky, in no hurry to be shrouded in pitch black again. As the last rays of light were cut off by the closing trap door, the pit was hushed, save the quiet murmurs of the older children comforting the youngest.

Leaky poked her head out the door. The town was still asleep. 

‘Thank the Goddesses…’

She had spotted the shed with the big “X” while on tour of Plumwood earlier. Getting to it would be no problem. Leaky had always been a furtive pony in a Stable where privacy was a luxury.

She grabbed her pistol in her mouth, not wanting to alert the town with a big orange beacon, and ducked her way to the shed. It was tucked away beside a big house and just a bit bigger than the one that held all the children. She paused, wondering at what point tonight a cage holding children became normal to her.


***************************************************************************************


The shed had no lock, just like the previous one. 

‘These ponies are too trusting…’

Her ears perked at a faraway sound as she began pushing the door open. carefully. The room was dark, illuminated solely by a dim flickering overhead lamp behind some sort of cell. The smell of blood hung thick in the air. Leaky slowly creeped into the room and closed the door. There was just enough light to notice the shadows of various tools lining the wall. Scanning the room as best she could in the dark, she found what she was looking for: a rusty bolt cutter. She wrapped it in her telekinesis and picked it off the wall.

“Pony... no more hurt dog.”

The low grumbling voice made the gun in her mouth drop. She spun around to see a towering figure barely outlined by the lamp.

“Dog do everything pony said... dog make holes for pony tree. Dog am sorry for eating fruits...”

Leaky dropped to her back, frozen in sheer terror. The figure had long sharp claws and menacing teeth, with a hide as thick as the kevlar-reinforced plates in her security barding.

“D-Demon!!” she shouted before cupping her mouth.

The Overmare had warned her of the Demons. But no diagram or drawing could match the horror that was it in person. Two tons of death, muscle that could move faster than the eye could blink, claws that could slice through any armor with ease, and a hide all but immune to small arms fire still didn’t convey the coiled power in the beast’s stance, nor the stench of blood that permeated the area around the creature, nor the malign, calculating shine in the beast’s eye.

The figure stood unmoved, following Leaky with its head. “Dog not mean to eat pony fruit. Dog am sorry. Pony no more hurt dog”. His hide was lacerated all over, scabs and scars a lattice through the bony ridges across its body, and from the look of his bloodied cuticles, somepony had attempted and utterly failed to remove it’s claws. Despite this, it stood stoically near the cage, just outside of the light’s range.

“Y-You can talk! Demons can talk!” The Demon nodded his head slowly, but said nothing. Leaky approached the cage slowly, her fear ebbing into amazement. She scrunched her nose. “Those innocent caravan workers. You killed them.”

The Demon shook his head slightly. “No. Dog no hurt pony. Dog was hungry, ate pony fruit. Pony catch dog, make dog hurt.” Its gruff voice rumbled through the room, like gravel scattering after thunder. It lifted it’s claws, bound together in thick, rusted chains. “Force dog to dig for trees. Not let dog go after pony promise to. Dog am sorry.”

Leaky examined its cell. It was old and rusted, and the chain that kept it closed was in no better condition. She could set it free if she wanted to. If she wanted to.

“Why haven’t you escaped? I’m sure those chains can’t really hold you.” 

The Demon lowered its head, almost ashamed. “Pony hurt dog. Dog no more want hurt. Pony hurt dog more if dog escape.” Leaky almost felt sorry for the behemoth. It lifted its head up and looked her in the eyes. “But Mama no like other pony. Mama listen to dog.”

‘Mama…?’

Leaky shook her head and dismissed it. “If I let you go...” The Demon’s ears twitched slightly, but remained motionless. “...will you help me do something first?”

The Demon stood quietly and rattled his chain slightly. “Dog love Mama forever. Dog follow Mama everywhere.”

‘This is insane.’

“Stand back, uh… dog. I’m setting you free.” Leaky floated the bolt cutters over to the chain holding the cell closed and cut them with less effort than she thought it’d take. She then trotted over to the Demon and puffed out her chest, trying to look intimidating. “No funny business. Got it?” 

‘Dog’ nodded slowly.

CRINK!

With a metallic crunch, the chains binding the Demon were cut loose and rattled loudly to the floor. It stood, towering over the room as it braced its palms against the ceiling and stretched, before looking down at Leaky with a mouthful of teeth. She took a step back and tried focusing on where she dropped the gun.

It smiled a sharp, toothy smile. “Dog love Mama forever and ever.”


****************************************************************************************


The door creaked slightly louder than Leaky would have wanted. She looked around the town, leary of any ponies that might have heard their exchange. So far, the town still slumbered peacefully.

“Alright... you.” Leaky wasn’t sure what to call this beast, or if it even had a sense of self-awareness. “Stay low. If we’re seen...” she started before shivering. “Please, just keep low.”

The fiend sniffed the air and looked down at her savior. “Dog keep low.” She wondered if it even knew what she meant.

She shook her head and lowered herself to the floor. She fondly remembered her “trouble days” (as her dad put it) back in Stable 16, where she and and Pilfer used to sneak off and raid guarded pantries for food during particularly hard days. Even now, all those years past and being as pregnant as she is, she was sure she could still sneak her way around. She wasn’t sure she could say the same about the lumbering hellbeast behind her.

She felt herself slipping into a rhythm. Barrel, crate, corner, pause, listen. On an empty street with no back alleys or tiny alcoves, she could still see places to hide, places no ponies would notice. It had been a while, but she couldn’t help grinning. Pilfer was right. When she put her mind to it, she was invisible. At least, until she started feeling the stomps of her 'companion' behind her. She shook her head in dismay and moved on.

As she attempted to sneak her way to the shed of children, Leaky spotted a small gathering of ponies in a tree-shrouded garden across the street. They sat around a small hole, dimly lit by a weakly flickering lamp that sat above a finely crafted wooden bench. A tall stone monument stood in the middle of it all. A plum.

Leaky crouched behind a barrel and squinted at the scene. The mare in the middle of the figures kept repeating something, though Leaky was too far to understand her. She considered moving up to get a better look, but mentally slapped herself as she knew there were things much more pressing than eavesdropping on somepony’s private ordeals.

As she began to get up, a muscular stallion appeared from the hole in the ground, a small bundle wrapped in his telekinesis. The mare sobbed loudly and turned away. The small bundle unwrapped slightly as the digger lowered it inside the hole, revealing a brightly colored, smiling padlock adorned on a small bright green flank.

“Pots...” whispered Leaky.

Her spine shivered at the realization of what she was looking at. It was a funeral. In a park, where happy children once played, no less. 

‘Those must be her parents.’ She felt stupid for believing Plum’s orphanage story. All horror she had felt turned into gut-wrenching rage. Not at herself for believing such blatant lies, but at the citizens of Plumwood. At Plum herself. She bit her lip, unable to comprehend how ponies could be so evil.

“Stop right there! Hooves in the air!” barked a loud voice. Leaky’s blood turned cold as she shot up and raised her hooves to the air.

“Oh,” said the voice in an irritated manner. “It’s just you.”

Leaky turned slowly. Sheriff Stu stood before her, stained from head to hooves in dirt and mud. It was obvious he was tired, but he puffed his chest to try to look intimidating. She looked behind him. The Demon was nowhere in sight. It must have darted off as soon as she turned around. She felt stupid once more, this time for trusting another denizen of this horrible place.

“What are you doin’ out and about at this hour? There’s a curfew in effect.” His eyes narrowed.

She didn’t have time for this. “Bathroom,” she blurted out. “I had a big meal, I was looking for the bathroom.” Leaky realized the poker face she had on too late, and conjured up the most earnest smile she could fake.

The sheriff circled her. “Curious. There’s a bathroom in your motel room.”

“Ha! Well, I didn’t see!” offered Leaky. She wasn’t sure she even believed herself. “It’s pretty dark out tonight.”

“Yea-huh,” grumbled the sheriff. He stuck a hoof to her chest and closed in on her face. “Listen here. I don’t trust you. I can’t prove it, but I know yer up to somethin’.” He stepped back and smoothed out his matted mane. “Betray the fine people of Plumwood, and I will personally be there to pull the rope to hang you. Do I make myself clear, stable dweller?”

Leaky nodded wordlessly, not trusting anything she could say. Her chest was a furnace of hate. The protector of this town, supposedly, and he sat idly by as the horrors here went on.

“Good.” Content his bluff has worked, he glanced at the service and winced. He was supposed to be the one burying the filly. “Now head back to yer room. There’s a curfew out tonight.” He gave her one last squint and trotted away. Leaky stared blankly at the sheriff, astonished that he had not offered to escort her back to her room or even allocated someone to keep an eye on her. She looked down at her hooves and saw the rusty bolt cutters right there in plain sight. He was not a smart sheriff.

        The rest of the trip to the shed was silent and unseen. Even with the town this deep asleep, Dog’s lumbering would have woken up someone. As she pushed the shed door open, something touched her flank and she spun around violently, ready to take a swing at whoever found her out.

The Demon stood out in the middle of the street, arms clutching Leaky’s Stable security barding and her machete, along with her saddlebags. “These are Mama’s. Mama forgot these.”

“Get in here!” whispered Leaky, motioning the giant mass of muscle and claws inside the shed. He squeezed inside as she shoved against him futilely and closed the door. “Are you crazy?! You could have gotten caught!!”

The creature shrugged and placed her things on the floor. “Dog smell things. Dog bring to Mama. Mama forget things.”

“I didn’t forget—” she began and stopped. Truthfully, she had. She rubbed her face in frustration. “Agh… Just... keep an eye out for trouble, please? I’m going to set these children free.” 

Dog nodded and lumbered over to the door. Leaky squeezed on her armor as fast as she could. Things had gotten too weird for her, way too fast.

She opened the trapdoor to see the weary children still all there. Their faces lit up. “You came back!”

“Shhh… Of course I came back.” Leaky remembered the humble funeral. “I promised Pots.” She levitated the bolt cutters to the iron padlock and clamped down on it.

Crak! Clinkclinkclink.

‘Oh no. Nonono.’

The bolt cutters broke apart, years of neglect finally taking their toll. Leaky’s heart sank, but she turned to the worried children and smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry children... I saw another one of these back at the shed… I’ll go get them.” 

There weren’t any more bolt cutters.

Leaky’s mind raced as she thought of what she could do to open the padlock. She cursed the goddesses that Pilfer vanished one day from Stable 16 before she could teach her about lockpicking

“Dog help,” the beast boomed as he lumbered to the cage. He grabbed the cage door with both massive claws and ripped the entire door off it’s hinges. The children screamed in terror at seeing his monstrous mass hulking over them, to which the hellhound replied by screaming as well. The scene was louder than five stable doors opening at once.

“Everyone! Noo! Quiet! Before--”

From behind the door, faint shouts of townsponies could be heard. “There’s someone in the cage!”

 “Grab the guns!”

Leaky groaned in response to everything that could have gone wrong going wrong. She hushed the children. “Children! Please! He’s a good friend! Pots told him to help too!” The screams of the children died down into whimpers. The beast looked back at Leaky confused.

“The stable dweller is gone! I knew she was up to no good! Surround the shed!”

‘Crap.’

Leaky needed a plan, and she needed it fast. She looked at the Demon she had rescued, who was trying to hush the children, and remembered all of the stories she heard about them.

“You… ah… Dog. Can you dig?”

Dog turned to Leaky and shook his head sadly. “Pony hurt dog’s claws. Too much hurt to dig.”

She heard the commotion outside the shed growing louder. She stamped her hooves on the floor trying to come up with an idea. Her head shot up in realization.

“Dog. Can you distract?”

Dog flashed his sharp, spiky teeth. “Dog distract.”


************************************************************************************


Plum Pudding stepped outside her home, rifle slung around her neck. She had not anticipated getting up for a gunfight today, much less with the pony that had saved her life. She sighed trotted impatiently towards the commotion. 

She walked to the sheriff fiddling with a megaphone and mumbling angrily at himself. “I told them. I told them all. I knew she was trouble but nooooo, Sheriff Stu is just a big old joke to them all.”

She swatted the oversized cowboy hat from his head. “Give it here, you goober. Give it.” She took the megaphone and adjusted it, pointing it toward the shed.

“Leaky. This is Plum. I don’t know what ya thought you saw. I don’t know what yer tryin’ to do. But I assure ya. Everythin’ I and the good people of Plumwood do is fer the greater good.”

She stopped to listen for a response, continuing when none came. “A few weeks back, our prosperous little town was raided by ponies. Not slavers. We’ve handled slavers before, but these… these weren’t yer average everyday hoodlums. The determination, the weapons they had… that blasted armor… I can still see it whenever I close my eyes...”

She paused to shake an image from her head and resumed. “I managed to strike a deal with ‘em. Instead of taking the whole town, they would take a few children every week, and I would give ‘em a home base of sorts. Resupply when they need it. Things like that. I don’t enjoy doing this, but I gotta. When you have ponies that look to ya for their salvation, ya gotta make sacrifices. Ya gotta be the monster in the storybook fer yer people to have their happy ending. Do ya get what I’m smellin’ at, Leaky?”

“No, Plum!” shouted Leaky from inside the shed. Her voice was strained, on the verge of tears. “This isn’t the way to go! There has to be another way! We have numbers! We can help you fight them off!”

Plum shook her head sadly. “You haven’t seen them, Leaky. We can’t. The ruthlessness as they stormed our gates… Yer folks will just mean higher casualties.”

She paused. An eerie silence overtook the scene. “Be reasonable, Leaky. I like ya. I really do. Ya saved my life, so I owe ya. I can’t let the children go, as much as it pains me to not be able to… But how’s this: you come out now, and I will allow ya to leave with no bodily harm done. None whatsoever, not even from Sheriff hair-trigger and his merry band of incompetent misfits over here. What do ya say?”

The shed was quiet in response. The crowd was quiet as well, save for the clicks and chinks of loading guns.

Plum sighed and shook her head, then tossed the megaphone. “A downright shame, it is. It really pains me. Perforate the shed, boys.”

As the posse took aim, all that could be heard was a steady thump, thump, thump coming from inside the shed. Before anypony could pull the trigger, a massive, nearly-reptilian arm shot out from the doors, splintering them. In the space of a heartbeat, it was followed by an earth-shaking roar, and the front of the building exploded into a mass of claws, muscle, and death. Determination turned to panic in an instant.

“The Hellhound! She let the Hellhound loose! Run for your lives!” shouted Sheriff Stu at the top of his lungs as he scrambled away, only to be swatted away violently by Dog’s giant hand. The posse opened fire on Dog, but not a single shot penetrated his scarred-over hide. He roared once more, casually batting ponies into the air left and right, being careful not to kill -- as per Leaky’s instructions.

A mare wielding a cattle prod dashed up from behind and stuck him at the base of his tail, yielding a howl of pain in the instant before his tail sent the mare flying, breaking her concentration. Before she could blink, the beast snatched her from the air, bringing her around and roaring into her terrified face.

There was a whizzing sound, and then a storm of fire and jagged steel engulfed Dog. When it cleared, the mare in his grasp was gone, what little was left of her scattered at his feet. He stumbled back, whimpering. He collapsed on a knee, shredded hide barely holding together.

Ca-CHIK!

Plum Pudding cocked her grenade rifle forward and loaded a new round into the chamber. “Foul beastie. I knew we shoulda off’d ya when we had the chance.” She aimed the rifle at Dog’s crumpled form. “Oh well. No point in fussin’ over things when yer gonna do ‘em eventually. Ya get ulcers that way.”

“Plum!” screamed Leaky as she ran out of the hole that used to be the shed’s door. Her eyes were wide in abject horror as she shakily held her pistol in her telekinesis. “Please! Stop! Don’t do this!”

Plum held her weapon steadily pointed at bleeding, whimpering mountain of death. “You probably think the worst of me right now, eh, dearie?”

Leaky gingerly stepped closer, pistol raised to the only friend she had made in the Outside. “Please… Plum… Stop. We can still do this. We can still make everything right.”

The mayor faltered slightly and re-aimed her rifle at the beast. “You don’t get it… they’re comin’ in the mornin’. Your people can’t get here fast enough. If they get here and see that all the children are gone… They’ll attack. My people would die, and all I’ve sacrificed would have been pointless.”

The mob had dispersed back to the safety of their homes by now, save those wounded on the ground, shouting in agony.

Her lip trembled as she offered a weak smile. “I don’t have anything left to sacrifice, Leaky.”

Leaky slowly lowered her pistol. “I’m begging you, Plum… It can’t be like this.”

Plum blinked away the tears slowly building in her eyes. “Hey now. No regrets, right? Not even in the face of armageddon?”

She spun around and aimed the grenade rifle at Leaky, trembling smile on her face as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“NO!” screamed Leaky as she brought up the pistol and fired with a quick pull of the trigger. A deafening BANG! rang out as the bullet was sent ripping through Plum's neck.

She staggered, the grenade rifle clattering out of her hooves. She clutched her throat and gasped, coughing blood as she collapsed on the ground, sputtering as her lungs filled with blood.

Leaky lowered her pistol in shock, barely comprehending what she had done. She ran to Plum’s side, face contorted in grief. “I-I’m sorry Plum, I’m s-so sorry...”

The mayor's eyes pleaded frantically at Leaky, eyes darting between the pistol and her wet face. Leaky paused and looked at her pistol, slowly realizing what hat her friend was asking for. Plum coughed a lungful of blood on the dirt and heaved, only to cough again.

Leaky nodded slowly and lined the pistol up to her friend’s head. “Even… even boogies don’t deserve to suffer...”

The pink mare gasped for air and offered a weak smile, even as her body trembled in agony and tears filled her eyes.

BANG! 




*************************************************************************************


“Wow, guys. You should really see it. It’s quite the something.

“Oh shit, yeah. News.

“So.
        
“I’m coming to you live on some fucking hill somewhere, where the pleasant little town of Plumwood is burning. And I mean burning. Sources tell me that a few hours ago, some preggo Stable dweller and—get this—a fucking Hellhound, ‘rescued’ the children of Plumwood for some really shady shit that was going on down there. My money was on child sacrifices. No place can be THAT perfect without SOME kid getting sacrificed. Anyways, we’ve even got some people calling her the ‘Mother of the Zona’ or some shit like that. 

“Well my ponyfriends, she ain’t no momma of mine. That’s because shortly after her daring ‘rescue’, a literal army stormed Plumwood, and what they couldn’t enslave, they set on fire... and I’m here to tell ya that the air smells suspiciously like a cannibal’s brunch. Same sources tell me that the two events are linked. I may be some low life scum, ponyfriends, but a destroying an entire fucking town? That’s “stuck in between a Hellhound’s teeth” low.

“Plumwood, probably the only shining beacon of true civilization in this hellhole I'm proud to call a home, is now kill. Kapoot. Just like that. 
Soon, this whole fucking place is going to starve, now that the only reason we aren't ALL eating each other is now nothing but ashes raining down on our heads. And we have this…”Mother of the Zona” to thank for it. Yup, we sure do. 

“Damn, that fire is going strong…

“So if any of my faithful listeners out there find yourselves in the same area as this broad, do your old pal Muckraker a solid and put one between her baby blues for me before she tries to make our slow death by starvation come any quicker by doing this shit somewhere else again. On second thought, hell, I might even join in on making this terrorist fuck feel welcome in the Zona.

“This one’s for you, darl. Because I know you’re listening. “


~ ♪ Darlin' darlin' darlin'


I can't wait to see you


Your picture ain't enough 


I can't wait to touch you, in the flesh  ♪~



*****************************************************************************************



Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Mother of the Zona. You seem to have made a reputation for yourself! Of sorts. Children will now be friendlier to you. You'll also sometimes have access to unique dialogue options, for better or worse. 


> Chapter 4: Hunted
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 4: Hunted


 

“I just saw the bitch here. She can’t be that far.”
 
Another day being the infamous Mother of The Zona, the mare somehow thought responsible for destroying an entire town.
 
A gruff-voiced earth stallion with a twin autorifle battle-saddle stomped around the remnants of a forgotten rock farm. Boulders ranging from pony to shack sized peppered the area, waiting patiently for a harvest that would never come. With a hearty kick, the stallion pushed over a massive boulder and spun around to aim at... nothing.

 “We’ve been here an hour already, Earthmover,” whined a slim unicorn mare sporting a poncho and a wide brimmed desperado hat. She twirled a revolver in her magical grip as she spoke, her muffled voice coming from a mouth covered in a dirty bandana. “You sure she hasn’t ran off already?”

The stallion snorted and kicked over a boulder with as if it were made of styrofoam. “No. I know she’s still here. I can feel it.”

The desperado scoffed and twirled faster. “Yeah. Right. Just like how you ‘felt’ her back in Tarnation Junction or how you ‘knew’ she was hiding in a crowd at Shallow Sands.”

“That was different.” His eyes remained trained on the task at hand.

“That filly with a hole in her shoulder doesn’t think so.”

“But we SAW her go in HERE.” boomed the stallion as he shot her a grim look. “It’s. Different.”
 
        The gunslinger winced and shook her head, avoiding the stare. “Sheesh. Don’t need to tear my head off.”

He stared quietly at a sharp boulder and pushed it with his forelegs. “My wife was supposed to be in Plumwood for the week. Caravan guard. She’s....” He paused and looked at the empty pit the boulder had caused and sighed. “No. I’m not going to stop. Not when she’s this close.”
 
The unicorn shook her head. “Yeah. Right, sorry.” She casually wrapped a small boulder in her telekinesis and threw it behind her. “Forgot about that. I can still remember the smoke in the sky. Crazy shit. Shame, too. They had some pretty tasty plums--” She almost dropped her pistol after double taking, her mind registering the cowering form of a pregnant unicorn at the bottom of the shallow pit, covered in dirt and weary from exhaustion.
 
“Please...don’t...” the mare begged with pleading eyes as she clutched her belly protectively. Her lower lip trembled in defeat.
 
“Hey, Earthmover! I found her!” the slim pony shouted, not looking away from the prize that had cost her an afternoon catching dozens of easier, better paying bounties. She took a magical fistful of her mane and dragged her out of the pit, tossing her into the mud at her hooves. “Don’t move. Make this easier for yourself.”
 
“What? Oh shit, finally!” bellowed the earth stallion. His heavy battle-saddle clattered as he trotted impatiently towards his partner. He looked down at the mare sobbing quietly in the mud. The sight made him scowl in disgust. “So. You’re the bitch that stamped out Plumwood.”
 
"I-I didn't, I swear..." Leaky stammered out between suppressed sobs.
 
“Shut up, bitch!” he roared as he kicked her in the face, her head bouncing off the ground with a sickening thud. Leaky yelped in pain, tears flowing down her already-bruising cheeks as she began to sob in earnest. She curled up, crossing her forelegs in front of her face in a meager attempt to shield herself from the ruthless follow-up.
 
“C’mon Earthmover, stop playing around. It’s getting really fucking dark really fast,” the slim mare nickered irritably as she leaned on a boulder. “Besides. You beating up a pregnant pony is as pathetic looking as I thought it’d be when you dragged me out here with you.”

The stallion's glare didn't flicker, burning holes into the sobbing, pregnant mess with each passing moment. “Fine. Get me the hacksaw.” He kicked the lever on his battle-saddle and loaded his massive machine guns. He leaned in close to her ear. “This is for Honeydew, cunt.”
 
With a choked wail, she cried out with all her breath, “DOG!”
 
The earth stallion stepped back in confusion from the sudden outburst. Before he could retrain his rifles at the helpless mare, the earth beneath his hooves began to tremble. He barely got a chance to glance around before the ground beneath him exploded, sending him spiraling into the air. His scream turned into a choking cough as fingers the size of his legs wrapped around his neck and slammed him against a boulder, staining it scarlet. As the unicorn turned to look at her partner, gun slipping from her grasp, an unearthly howl shook the world. The next thing she knew, she was on her back, the unnaturally bent form of her partner pinning her to the rock. 

She gasped, scrambling to shove the limp form off of herself, before crying out in pain. Jagged white shards protruded from her knee, and everything below that was only agony. Trembling, she picked up her pistol, desperately firing round after round at the unflinching abomination before her.
 
BANG! BANG! click. The unicorn frantically reloaded her pistol, the weapon shaking in her magic. She raised it once more, but the beast ignored it, grabbing her head and pressing it into the ground hard enough to dent the rocky soil underneath her. Little cracks and pops could be heard over her pained screams.
 
“That’s enough, Dog...” the pregnant mare said weakly as she tried getting to her hooves.
 
The monster grunted and let go of the gunslinger’s head as she coughed through tears, her voice raspy and sore. It walked over to the pregnant mare and scooped her up in its fiendishly muscular arms.
 
“No... Dog... I can walk...”
 
“No walk. Mama hurt. Dog carry.”
 
The unicorn, all but forgotten, quietly took her chance. The pistol glowed and clicked as she reloaded it. Vindictively, she carefully aimed it at the mare’s head and squeezed the trigger.
 
CLAK!
 
Her heart dropped.
 
CLAK!
CLAK!
CLAK!

She looked down at her pistol, a look of bewilderment stamped on her face.
 
“It’s the mud...” responded her target, her orange eyes fixing empathetically on her would-be murderer, even as she drifted out of consciousness. “Revolvers have... openings... dirt and mud... clean quick, before... flana... min...” She went limp in her companion’s arms.
 
The assassin looked at her pistol angrily and tossed it at the pair. The Hellhound simply turned, the attack bouncing pathetically off its shoulder. Without a second glance, it began to walk away. 
                                                                 
“Dog no kill. But they hungry.”

As if on cue, a chorus of ghastly, high-pitched shrieks echoed across the rock farm, the noise reminiscent of all twenty gates of Tartarus opening simultaneously.
 
Flanamingos.
 
The mare struggled beneath her partner, screaming ever louder as the shards of bone began to tear further out of her knee. “Wait! You can’t leave me here! Th-The Fla...Fla...You have to help me!”
 
Dog picked up the pace and disappeared beyond the maze of rocks. The panicked mare searched for her mud-covered pistol and picked it up, the barrel looking more like a colt’s failed pottery project than a useful weapon. If it was ruined before, it was useless now.
 
Shadowy figures darted around the mare, dodging in and out of rocks. Within seconds, the mare was surrounded by low hisses and a hymn of gnashing maws.
 
Tears streamed down the mare’s face as she put the ruined pistol to her head and squeezed the trigger, looking for a way out, any way out. 

CLAK!
CLAK!
CLAK!


****************************************************


“Day 2 of ‘Momma Watch’ out here in the Zona and the pregnant cunt is still out there, keeping her head down, probably plotting on bringing down whatever bastions of civilization this fucking place still has. She’s good at hiding, I’ll give her that. Just like I’d give that pet Hellhound of hers a new hole to breathe through.
 
To rebump it to my morning listeners, I’m offering a five hundred cap bounty on her head for what happened in Plumwood, plus a shot at my sister if you can manage to bring down that mutt she wanders around with. I’m poor, you shit.
 
In other news, still no word from the neighboring town of Stirrup after two days of radio silence. Ponies who’ve gone to investigate have reported remnants of thrown tables, broken-in doors and a whole lot of hoofprints, though no bodies, bullet holes or ponies on fire have been seen that would link it to whatever-the-fuck happened to Plumwood. What was found was a neatly folded paper at the gate of the town that just said ‘It is your time.’ 

Spooky shit, eh?

I’m still betting on the “Mother of the Zona” having something to do with it. It makes me lactate with rage knowing that somewhere in this shitty place, this broad is out there listening to this, leaving stupid notes and having a laugh. Well bitch, you know what you did. And best of all, the whole Zona knows.”

 


*******************************************************************************


“She did WHAT?!”
 
The Overmare stood at the mouth of Stable 16, face flushed with rage as she stared at the throngs of exhausted children from Plumwood. The eldest of the children wore a familiar Stable security armor and the second oldest held a magenta machete in her mouth.
 
“T-The pony told me to show you this,” the oldest spoke up. He pulled a rectangular cartridge from his saddlebags and handed it to the fuming yellow mare. She glared at the hunk of composite plastics for a moment, then grabbed it with her mouth and inserted it to her Pipbuck.
 
***BEGIN TRANSMISSION***
“Hold on, Dog, it doesn’t look too bad...”
“Dog no feel good, Mama”
“Stop calling me that! You’re gonna be fine! Leaky Faucet’s log, day 2, time...whatever time it is! I don’t know! Goddesses, the shrapnel...children, don’t look!”
“SHLUK!”
ROOOOOOOOAAAAAAGH
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
“Children, please! Overmare Sunny Days, it’s Leaky. I found a town about two days from Stable 16 called Plumwood. At first it looked like the perfect place for our people, but then I found the children from the town trapped in a cage. The townsponies were...giving them to bad people, ma’am. Their mayor...I...I’m sending them to Stable 16. Please take care of them until I or any other Savior finds a place for our people--”
“Dog...take nap now...”
“Dog! Please! Overmare Sunny Days, I beg you--”
***END TRANSMISSION***
 
The recording stopped, leaving the infuriated Overmare only more confused. And angry.
 
She looked up at the children. It was night in The Outside. Many of them were shivering, probably hungry and most definitely tired. She scowled at the imaginary Leaky in front of her, who the Overmare imagined just took pleasure out of making her already-difficult life even harder.
 
A security guard with a dingy pistol in his telekinetic grip leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “You want us to close the Stable door?”
 
The Overmare rubbed her eyes with her hooves. Her best mathematicians had helped her to best distribute the Stable's supplies amongst the population. Adding the droves of children Leaky had dumped on her would upset the already delicate balance she had worked hard to achieve.
 
“No...The children can stay in my room. Allocate all of my future rations to feed them.” She would have to hold out on nutrient paste. She’d go hungry, but she wouldn’t starve. She hated nutrient paste.
 
She shook her head and waved the children inside her Stable as they hurriedly shuffled inside, eager to escape the cold bitterness of a night in the Outside. “Fucking Leaky.”


*************************************************************************


“What do you mean I can’t come in?” Leaky stood at the heavy sheet-metal doors of a gated town with high metal walls protecting it from the harsh reality of the Wasteland. A ragtag group of armored and heavily-armed ponies formed her welcome committee, pointing their sea of weapons down at the unarmed, unarmored and heavily pregnant unicorn mare.
 
“We hurd what the ray-dee-oh said. We hurd whatchoo did” a scraggly-haired earth pony responded with a thick drawl through a mouth featuring several missing teeth. “If we lechoo in, you’ll jus’ kill us all, too. Ah’m too smart fer yer lil’ tricks, missy.” He hocked a wad of chewing tobacco spit at the floor in front of the Stable 16 dweller.

Leaky stomped her hoof in protest, to which her welcoming committee responded by retraining their weapons on her. “I didn’t kill anypony! I wasn’t even there for what happened after!”
 
A homely stallion with a serious case of underbite snorted and retorted. “Whuddubout the mayor. We hurd yoo shooted her right in the head. In cold blood, too.” The rest of the guards nodded and let out grunts of agreement. Leaky recoiled at the accusation.
 
“It was out of mercy! She was dying! She was...she...” Leaky’s voice trailed off. She could have given Plum medical attention. She could have spared her and let the ponies of Plumwood tend to her wounds. She could have even shot her in the legs instead of fatally wounding her. But she didn’t.
 
Leaky looked to the ground, ashamed. Her eyes stung as her lips began to tremble. Her entire time in this Celestia-forsaken place had been one awful event after the other, and after all of that, her mission was so ruined that no town would even open the gates for her? She broke down and began to sob quietly in front of the gates, making some of the guards look at each other and grimace at successfully making a pregnant mare cry.
 
“Ah, jeez...Look. We ain’t gonna kill yoo and turn yoo in fer the reward, becuz we’re nice ponyfolk like that and yoo saved all those kids,” added the scraggly haired earth pony. “And also becuz I didn’t like Plumwood anyway. Bunch of fags makin’ the town of Hayseed look like dirt, with all their plums n’ shit.” One of the guards lost his footing and fell backwards off the ledge he was standing on.

Leaky wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up at the earth pony. “Th-Thank you.”
 
He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. If yer lookin’ for supplies, a caravan just left due south of here, yoo can make it if yoo book-it now.”
 
“Okay...Thanks again,” responded Leaky. She stared up at the line of guards as they stood unmoving, pointing their weapons at her. She despondently turned tail and made her way through the dirt trail that led to the outskirts of the town of Hayseed. The guards, satisfied, began retreating off the wall. 

“And don’t come back now, y’hear?”
 
Leaky walked towards a large boulder near the dirt road. A conspicuous head poked out from its side, then retreated back to hiding.

“You can come out now, Dog.” Leaky said with a dejected sigh. She had given almost everything to the children of Plumwood to make their trip back to Stable 16 safer, including most of her food and water. She had hoped the town of Hayseed would at least be sympathetic enough to her to let her gather supplies there.
 
“Mama get?” asked Dog as he lumbered from behind the boulder. His chest was wrapped meticulously with a thick layer of clean bandages, and his face was no less covered. Leaky had used most of her healing supplies trying to stop Dog’s bleeding and remove all the shrapnel embedded in his body by Plum’s grenade rifle, but her basic knowledge of first aid had caused her to waste more than she needed. The fact she had kept changing his bandages whenever they got dirty didn’t help her supply problem, especially since the fiend was fussier than any foal could ever be.
 
“Dog, please stop calling me that.” She sighed and shook her head. “And no...they didn’t let me in.”
 
Dog grunted and started towards the dirt path as he cracked his treetrunk-like neck. “Dog hurt town.” Leaky’s eyes shot open and she grabbed onto Dog’s massive hind leg.

“No! Bad Dog! There’s a caravan down the road! We can catch up to it and get supplies there if we hurry!”
 
The Hellhound stopped and looked down at his savior. “But Mama no run. Mama has pony inside.” He was right. Leaky was in no condition to run, being this far into her pregnancy. But she didn’t want another strike on her record of Wasteland’s Most Wanted for unleashing a fiercely loyal hellbeast on a town that wouldn’t give her supplies. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out.
 
“Dog carry Mama again.” Before Leaky could decipher what he meant, the monstrous mass scooped Leaky from her hooves belly-up and started a sprightly jog unbefitting of the Hellhound’s size.
 
“Wh-AAAA! NO! DOOOG! PUT ME DOOOWN!!” But Dog was too focused on getting mama the supplies she needed. Wearily, Leaky felt that all she really needed at that moment was to not be carried like a little filly. And a bucket.


****************************************************

 
After a few minutes of dry heaving, the caravan was in sight. Dog carried Leaky behind a hill and set her down. She groggily tried to regain her composure, almost falling on her face a few times. “Never… do that again, Dog,” she muttered as she fought back the urge to empty the contents of her unfed stomach. Dog shrugged. At least they had caught up to the only source of supplies for miles in every direction.
 
Leaky wearily made her way over the hill to meet the caravan. As she approached its miniature summit, she started hearing voices belonging to a heated disagreement.
 
“...A hundred caps?! Last week it was seventy five!” shouted a beige earth pony with a smooth, black pompadour. His white, ripped blazer matched his tattered patience. “This is fuckin’ highway robbery.”
 
He stood in front a dark gray mare with a curly black mane, who was leaning next to what appeared to be a two headed cow. She confidently shifted in her scarlet saloon dress and crossed her fishnet-covered forelegs. “You heard me, babe. Gotta pay attention to that supply and demand. And I am very in demand.” Her eyes remained dimmed, her smile sly and sure of herself.
 
The stallion with the slick manecut huffed and shook his head. “This is crazy. You’re crazy. Your rotten snatch is not fuckin’ worth a hundred caps.”
 
The mare shrugged and turned towards her mutated cow creature and pet it, who was absent-mindedly chewing on a mouthful of sand. “Oh well, what can I say. Come back when you have the dosh, honey.”
 
The angry customer reached into his blazer and pulled out a small pistol. “Fuff thaf. I’ff getting it fofrr free,” he spoke with the miniature weapon clenched in-between his teeth. The caravaneer froze and turned slowly, still wearing her same confident expression.
 
“Relaaaax, Jailhouse. We’re cool. And just because I like you, I’ll give you a free ride.” Her hoof slowly started to travel to her hip, furtively reaching for the small derringer she kept for unruly customers such as this one. “Let’s just head back to my place in Hayseed, buy a few drinks, light a few candles--” The mare was cut off as the stallion twitched, a sharp crack echoing off the landscape. She froze, not daring to breathe, until her brahmin collapsed behind her, blood pooling from each of its heads. She turned her dauntless smile back at Jailhouse. “Or here. Here is cool.”
 
Leaky reached for her machete and pistol—groping blindly at the space by her hip, before remembering how she had given them away to the children of Plumwood for protection. She turned frantically at Dog and whispered loudly. “Dog! We need to do something!” Dog looked up at her from the hill she was up on and stared blankly.
 
“What Dog do?” he asked.
 
“I don’t know! Anything! Just stop that guy!”
         
The pompadour-sporting scofflaw motioned diagonally with his weapon. “You knowff the drillf. Assf upf, doll.”
 
 The gray salesmare leaned on her still-warm beast and rolled up her dress, flicking her tail to the side and giving the slimy patron access to her backdoor goods. He snorted in victory and placed both hooves roughly on her flanks to begin positioning himself. “Well, ain’t you the charmer.”
 
A blood-curdling roar cut him off from any further banter, the bellow echoing off the surrounding mesas, coming from a dozen directions at once. His head darted from side to side, frantically looking for the source of horrifying noise. It wasn't hard to find. Three tons of death ran towards him with unholy speed, cutting halfway through the gap between them in moments. The would-be rapist dropped the pistol from his mouth in shock and turned tail, stumbling as if his legs had turned to spaghetti. His terrified shrieks still echoed long after he disappeared into the maze of canyons around them. The mare pulled her pistol from her waist and shot four bullets at Dog’s chest, each bouncing off ineffectually. Dog halted his charge and backstepped, confused.
 
“C’mon, you fuck,” grumbled the mare as she pulled a shotgun from her dead beast’s pack.
 
Leaky burst from out behind the cliff. “Wait! He’s with me! He’s not going to hurt you!” She carefully but hurriedly hobbled down the hill. The salesmare kept the shotgun trained on the behemoth and looked at Leaky out of the corner of her eye.
 
“What? You own this freakin’ thing?” she cautiously retorted.
 
Leaky approached the armed gray mare as if the ground were made of eggshells. “Well...own is a strong word...” Dog looked at Leaky and shrugged his massive shoulders. “But yeah. He’s with me. I told him to help you.” She turned to her companion and nodded sweetly. “Dog, go back behind the hill, please.” The bandaged Hellhound gave his savior a frown and begrudgingly skulked back over the hill.
 
The gray mare slowly lowered her shotgun and scoffed. “Jeez, that thing really does listen to you.” She turned her full attention to the pregnant unicorn before her and squinted with realization. Something clicked in the sly earth pony’s head. “Wait a sec...Ha. As I live and breathe. The Mother of the Zona.” She shifted her shotgun.
 
Leaky took a step back as her ears drooped. “Are you going to attack me for the reward? Because I’ve had a really bad day, Miss.” She considered shouting for Dog to come to her aid, but by the time the beast came, she would have already been blasted away by the merchant’s scattergun.

“What? Ha, oh, no,” she said casually as she tossed her shotgun back onto her dead pack animal. “The Zona is pretty scummy, but betraying somepony who saved me from Jailhouse’s slimy dick? Nah, that ain’t my style.” 

She sized up the naked, weaponless mare and brushed her dark curled hair out of her face. “Looks like you’re in need of some supplies. Name’s Silk Road. Welcome to my shop.” She grandly extended a hoof to her dead pack beast. Leaky craned her neck to look at the mare’s mobile place of business. Flies were already buzzing around the pooling streams of ichor that oozed from its wounds. Silk paused. “I’ve had better days.”
 
“Yeah, they wouldn’t let me in Hayseed...what do you sell?” inquired Leaky, much more relaxed now that the barrel of her shotgun wasn’t being waved around.
 
“Oh, you know,” Silk responded with dimmed eyes. “Bits, baubles, anything I can find. Other stuff. Everyone digs the other stuff. Do you want some other stuff, cutie?” She leaned seductively on the rapidly cooling carcass.
 
Leaky broke out in a blush and stepped back in red-hot embarrassment. “Ah...n-no thanks.”
 
Silk shrugged and turned towards the bags the dead beast was carrying. “Suit yourself, honey. What are you hankering for?”
 
Leaky looked down at herself. She had done an admirable job of laying low so far, barring this morning, but it wouldn’t last long. Sooner or later, someone would come for her, and Dog wouldn’t be able to protect her forever. “I don’t know...maybe some armor? Something light, please. And maybe your cheapest weapon. I don’t have a lot of...whatever you all call these.” She floated out a pouch of lightly clinking bottle caps. Almost a week out in the Zona, and the concept of using these things as currency was still baffling to her.
 
Silk looked back with a sly smile. “Oh, you think you’re paying for this? What do you take me for?”
 
Leaky shifted slightly in surprise. “I can’t, please...”
 
“This isn’t a negotiation, hun” smiled the mare. “You helped me out back there, I owe ya. Now, all I’ve got on me in your...heh...size, is this leather barding. It’s a bit stiff, I found it on some dead fat guy in a bar. He didn’t take too good care of it. But it’ll fit you just fine.” The armor, if you could really call it that, was a simple shirt padded with thick strips of leather. It had metal studs embedded at the shoulders and neck, though some of them were loose and in some parts, just plain missing. Still, it was better that roaming the wastes naked.
 
She slipped on the leather barding with little effort. It was a perfect fit, which only made Leaky’s nose scrunch. “Thank you, Silk...I appreciate it.”
 
She waved a hoof. “Nah, ain’t no thing. Now. I don’t have any weapons on me right now ‘cept the shotgun and the pistol I sprayed at your...eh. Pet. And sorry Mother, but I need those to live.”
 
Leaky cringed at the casual mention of her infamous brand, but nodded. “Yeah, I understand.”
 
Silk rummaged through the pack animal’s bags and grunted. “Well. I have this bat I found a while back. It ain’t much, but eh. It’s all I can spare. It’s been slow recently.” She pulled out a humble baseball bat from her bags. It was chipped at various points and the grip had been thoroughly chewed by whoever it used to belong to. A faded logo was on its side. It read “Screwy’s Balls, home of crazy crazy deals! WOOF.”
 
Leaky grabbed the bat with her telekinesis and stashed it away a the slot her new barding had on its back. “I appreciate it anyway, thanks a trillion.”
 
Silk clapped her hooves together once. “Now then! About me feeding you...”
 
Leaky’s ears folded. “No, please, this is too much...”
 
The gray salesmare scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Nah. Trust me. I’m a whore, but I’m also a great cook.” She nodded towards her pack beast. “And that guy has a lot of meat.”


***************************************************************************


“...The two were found dead in the ruins of the old Balboa Rock Farms. The guy had the entire back of his head crushed and his neck snapped, and the mare was pretty much eaten alive. Some sick shit, eh?

What makes it sicker is that eyewitnesses confirm the “Mother of the Zona” was seen fleeing from the pair into the Balboa Rock Farms. I’m not saying the cunt somehow crushed a guy’s neck and caved in his head, then ate the other broad alive just for the fuck of it. But her pet Hellhound? That’s another boiling pot of flanamingo shit entirely, ponyfriends. So don’t be like these dumbshits and somehow forget this bitch has an 8 foot tall nigh-indestructible bodyguard with her at all times. At least pack a grenade launcher or some anti-armor rounds or a flamethrower next time, you fucks. Or else next time, I’d be telling my faithful listeners about how this big son of a bitch turned YOU into potpourri—“
 
 “Aight, guy, that’s enough out of you,” said Silk Road as she turned off her radio. She took another bite of her steak. “Fuckin’ blowhard.”
 
Leaky had dug through three servings of steak, two cans of pork n’ beans, and a whole mess of something Silk called “Wasteland Salad”. She didn’t even notice she was starved until Silk had begun frying up the first steak, filling their little camp with the thick smell of succulent meat. Her stomach made weird noises as she had decimated her first steak, but she was too hungry to care. And now, she was satisfied.
 
“What’s his problem?” asked Leaky, wiping her muzzle clean from the aftermath of her meal.
 
“Who, Muckraker? Eh.” She waved her hoof at the thought. “He’s just some good-for-nothing raider who found radio equipment one day while being a degenerate scumfucker and scavenging pre-war buildings. Now he just spouts probably-made-up bullshit about his “conquests” and his old days of being a raider. When he’s not playing badass music, of course.” She shrugged. “He’s an annoying bastard, but no one kills him because he’s pretty much the only radio station in the entire Zona. That, or they genuinely believe his ass, since he’s pretty much the only news source we have.” 

Leaky carefully placed her knife and fork on top of the massive pile of plates before her. Seeing Leaky’s plate cleaned for more than a minute, Silk started putting away her pots and pans. “Throughout my years as a traveling whore slash cook slash merchant, I’ve lost eight pack brahmin. Yet, that fuckin’ blowhard has been the only constant in this place. Whether that’s funny or sad, I don’t really care that much to find out.”

She began scraping burnt grease from a pan. “Seems like he really took a liking to you, eh?”
 
Leaky lowered her head. “I don’t know...he’s made my life miserable so far. I just want to finish my mission and get it over with.”
 
“Yeah. Sucks to hear about that. You seem like a cool gal, I’m sure Plumwood was just one big ‘ol misunderstanding.”
 
Leaky sunk even lower, but said nothing. Plumwood would be a black scar on her psyche for the rest of her life.

She looked over at Dog, who Silk had strictly instructed to remain far away from the camp she had made. He was picking at the stripped carcass of Silk’s pack animal, sucking the marrow from its bones. “Question is, though… your pet.” Silk’s voice was coarse with venom. “What’s his deal?”

Leaky shrugged. “I don’t know. He was held a in shed back in Plumwood… the ponies there had him chained up, hurt him pretty bad. He said they forced him to dig, and when he couldn’t anymore, they tried ripping out his claws.”

Silk just scoffed. “And what? You just believe his sob story?” She shook her head. “Hellhounds are monsters. Soulless killing machines who attack ponies for fun. I heard stories about you running around with one, but I thought it was just Muckraker trying to make you look even… y’know. Spookier. I can’t sleep knowing that fucker could turn against us at any moment.”
 
Leaky lifted her head. She remembered how brutally he defended her against her most recent assassination attempt. “Ah… I don't think he’d do that. “

“And what makes you so sure?” Silk retorted with words loaded with vitriol.

“He’s the only reason I’m alive right now... ” she began. “He’s had many chances to run away or attack me, but he hasn’t.”

Silk glowered at Leaky. “Don’t tell me you actually trust him.”
 
The blunt insinuation took Leaky off guard. “I do trust him. He’s loyal to me, probably more than he should be,” she punctuated. She looked at Dog, who looked back and waved slowly. “So yeah. I do trust him. With my life.”

Silk scoffed and scraped bits of food into a tin can. “Whatever you say, MOZ. You’ll find out soon enough,” she said with a faraway sigh. “Ponies always do.”

Leaky tilted her head at the somber words. “What do you mean?”

She fished a rusty lid from her blood-stained packs and jammed it into the serrated opening of the can, ignoring the question with a slight chuckle. “You should check up on your pet. He doesn’t seem to be the kind that likes being alone.”

Leaky looked back at the hulking beast. He had lifted the stripped carcass over his head with a single muscular arm looking for unpicked parts. He tossed the animal’s body to the ground a few yards away and grunted. 

“Hey, Dog.”

Dog’s ears perked at the sound of Leaky’s voice. ”Mama.”

Leaky cringed visibly at the name the fiend had been referring her as since she had saved him. “Dog, please stop calling me that.”

The hellhound blinked at Leaky. “Dog sorry, Mama.”

She opened her mouth to protest but sighed and shook her head. There was no use.

Dog stared expectantly with full attention. “Mama okay?”

“Yeah, Dog, I’m okay.” Silk's words rattled on in her mind. She had to admit, she had her own reservations about Dog as well. “Dog, why haven’t you left yet?”

Dog shifted his weight. “Dog love Mama forever.”

Leaky shook her head. “No, no, I mean… you don’t owe me anything. Why stick around?”

Dog stood quietly, eyes trained on his savior. “Pony hurt Dog. Force Dog to dig. Mean to Dog. But Mama not mean to Dog.” His thick and gravelly voice was saturated with affection.  “Mama save Dog. Mama nice to Dog. Dog love Mama forever.”

Leaky nodded slowly. “I understand… I think.” She scanned the beast’s tattered body: his near-mortal wounds were healing much faster than she had thought, leaving not much behind than barely visible scratches under short, wiry fur. His long, fiendishly sharp claws tapped the ground patiently as he hung on her words, jaws quietly snapping behind his closed muzzle. Leaky’s fascination with the wasteland’s twisted creations grew stronger by the day.

“Dog, there ARE others like you, right?” 

Dog nodded. “Other dogs”, he snorted. “Other dogs live below. Dogs scared of pony. Dogs no come up.”

She tilted her head at the new information. “W-What? Demons are afraid of us? Why?”

“Pony trick dogs. Pony dump rainbow goop into dog homes without dogs knowing. Pony not let dogs leave.” Dog grunted, his formidable figure highlighted faintly by the dim campfire not far away. “Pony violent. Pony kill other pony. Pony kill world.”

A single unearthly warble rang out in the distance, followed by another, and another. Within moments, a chorus of shrill cries joined them

“WELP,” shouted Silk from the small camp. “SHOW TIME.”

She dove into her packs, cursing every second she dug through them not finding what she wanted. She reared back, clenching a jar of dark viscous goop in her teeth. Without a moment’s hesitation, she popped the lid and began smearing her face in the fluid.

“What? What happened?” asked Leaky as she trotted towards her. As she got nearer, the putrid, sour smell of the fluid attacked her nostrils, causing her to shield her nose from the assault.

“A lot of things, MOZ, a lot of things,” retorted Silk as she worked down to smearing her forelegs with the goop. “Say, you’re not afraid of blood, are you?”

Leaky squinted and turned her head slightly. “Ah… not particularly, I gue--” 

“Great!” interrupted Silk as she threw a glob of the dark goop at Leaky’s face. She sputtered and gagged as some of it landed on her tongue. The taste was horrid, somehow worse than it smelled. It was sour and rancid beyond what Leaky considered possible. She opened her mouth to gasp for air, only to have Silk’s slimed hoof rub the goop all over her face.

“S-Stop! What are you doing? Agh!” She recoiled away from the rancid ambush and began to wipe the fluid away. She could feel the oily substance already clumping deep into her coat.

“I wouldn’t do that, MOZ,” Silk said as she threw more globs at Leaky’s forehooves.  “That’s flanamingo blood. It’s pretty much the only fuckin’ thing that repels--”

A chorus of shrill, ghastly screeches echoed across the fog-washed plateaus and plains of the Zona, like a concerto from Tartarus building up for one last encore.

She motioned grandly at the direction the unearthly sounds came from. ”Yup, there you go, right on time.” She tossed Leaky a pile of rotten wood. “Here, feed the fire.”

As the plateaus' deep shadows rapidly crept upon the camp, Leaky carefully arranged the wood, piece by piece. She wasn't sure what was going on, but between the horrifying noise and Silk's taut expression, it was clear that she needed to move quickly. Every second was a minute, and every minute a second. There wasn't enough time in the world, but every second of creeping doom felt like an eternity.

 “Silk? What’s happening?”

Silk pulled out her double-barreled shotgun from her pack and scoffed as she gathered shells from her bags. “How long have you been out here again?”

“Wha..? Like.. four days, I think?”

“And you’ve never been in the middle of a fuckin’ flanamingo stampede?”

Leaky’s jaw dropped. “A WHAT?!”

The shrieks on the other side of the hills were growing louder and louder with each passing moment. 

“Yup. If you thought one was fuckin’ terryfing--” she tossed her small derringer to Leaky. “You might need this.”

Leaky looked down at the small double-barreled pistol. If she wasn't careful, she could swallow it. She wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but she couldn't help but feel that the bullets could barely tickle one flanamingo through its carapace. Against a whole stampede? "What?! No! We have to hide! We can't fight them!

“No, you doof, we aren’t fighting them,” she pushed a terror-stricken Leaky near the brightly-burning camp fire. She quickly surveyed the area the warm light cut a small swathe through the inky darkness and drew an X on the ground with her hoof. “Sit down, right… there.”

Dog lumbered from the darkness and engulfed the small X with his rear as he sat down. Silk shouted at the beast and pushed against it futily. “Not you, you fat fuck!”

Leaky looked to the sky. The hills surrounding them were pitch black, only recognizable from their outline created by the sky’s dying light. Numerous dark figures appeared from the horizons and dashed across them. Their shrieks vibrated throughout Leaky's body. She couldn't tell if the erratic pounding of her heart was excitement, fear, or some combination of the two.

Silk shoved her to the ground next to Dog and jumped over her, landing on her flanks. She loaded her scattergun and shouted at the top of her lungs. “I hate this paaaaaaaart.”

The ground vibrated as the shrill shrieks grew into a deafening din surrounding them. Hundreds of clawed feet threatened to break the world in two from the sheer numbers that surrounded Leaky and her companions. The roaring campfire flickered in the wake of the stampede, bringing the nightmare of a purple-chitin tsunami in and out of reality. Gnashing maws snapped together in unison, ignoring the terrified pregnant mare and parting a small wedge in the ocean of hungry death like a tide around a stone.

The small pistol in Leaky’s telekinetic grip shook erratically, her aim leaping from one purple shadow to the next, wondering when to shoot, if to shoot, what to shoot.

“I wouldn’t waste the bullets, MOZ...” Silk shouted from behind her. “That gun isn't meant for them...”

Out of the sea, one featureless face turned towards them before leaping from the stampede with a shriek, ready to tear into defenseless prey. Silk’s scattergun roared back at the darkness and blasted the leaping monster mid-air, sending it spiraling back with an agonized screech. A horrible keening wail came from beyond the wall of beasts where it landed, answered by hoots and shrieks as small chunks of carapace splattered against Leaky’s barding.

Another of the avian-like atrocities took interest, dashing straight towards the trio and leaping, hurrying to get to the fresh meal across the gap. A burst of thunder drowned out the stampede for a moment, and the limp form of their attacker fell to its eager brethren below

“Agh! Fuck! Shit! I need to reload!” she sputtered as she reached for more shells, spitting ichor-ridden gray matter from her mouth. Another beast leapt from the darkness at her as she hastily shoved the first shell into her weapon, dodging past her defense only to find its neck pulverized in an equally monstrous granite grip, still twitching with anticipation for the kill.

Silk looked back at Dog and leered, slamming her loaded weapon’s breech shut. Another burst of light illuminated the dark plain they found themselves in. And another, and another, each blast bathing the wave of identical gnashing faces in a stark white light for just a moment as, somewhere in the Zona, a very pony-like scream signaled that some of the stampede wouldn’t go hungry that night.


*********************************************************

 
“WATCH OUT, ONE’S RIGHT ON TOP OF YOU.”

Leaky’s eyes shot open as she let out a wild shriek swinging her baseball bat wildly into the air, nearly striking Silk with it several times.

“Jeez, calm down there slugger!” she exclaimed with a smile, nonchalantly ducking.

Leaky sat in wide-eyed terror, bat half-primed to swing. Last thing she remembered, she had been smack-dab in the middle of an ocean of hungry death. She looked around wearily at the foggy plains around them: dead flanamingos dotted the area, victims of either ravenous betrayal or fatal misteppings. What little plant life there was on the dry, cracked earth was mauled haphazardly, effectively ruining its chance into ever growing into something meaningful.

“You kinda just passed out in the middle of our little last stand there,” Silk chuckled as she picked small, round pellets off the floor and dropped them into a small glass jug. “Left me and your pet to fend off those fucks all alone.”

“Oh, Goddesses, I’m so sorry...” pleaded Leaky as she looked around looking for her faithful companion. She spotted him absently crunching on the empty shell of a flanamingo, savoring the last of his breakfast.

“Nah, don’t be,” the merchant started as she shook the pellets around. “Not much you could have done, really, with that pea shooter I gave you. And your pet helped me out a lot more than I thought it would. I’d still put him down first chance you get, if I were you. But still. I appreciate his help.”

“Yeah...” responded Leaky, still jarred from the most recent traumatic experience the Zona had provided her. She’d left Stable 16 eager to see the abominations that inhabited the Outside, but after narrowly surviving a rampage of one of its more ferocious creatures, she felt what she could only describe as the opposite of curiosity. She absent mindedly floated one of the pellets Silk was collecting and brought it near. It was surprisingly polished, for the dark color it had. Like something a filly would keep in a box and collect.

“Don’t gather flanamingo shit without a jar, MOZ. Makes great kindling, but it’s pretty toxic.” Silk capped the lid of her jar and shook it around.

Leaky dropped the pellet in disgust, feeling like her brain needed a shower after touching that with her magic.

Silk chuckled and shook her head. “Welp. I’m gonna be staying for a bit, see if I can gather fresh flanamingo blood from the corpses that ain’t run dry.” She shrugged and put away the jar. “Sorry I can’t offer you breakfast or anything, don’t really have much on me at the moment.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” said Leaky as she shook her head. She felt like she wouldn’t be able to eat even if she had the chance. She looked at the heavy bags Silk carried on her back, all the ones her pack animal had carried. “Where are you going to go now, Silk?”

“Well,” she began with a grunt as she adjusted her cargo. “Seeing as I’m short one brahmin and got no way to carry my wares, I’m gonna head back to my room at Hayseed and see if I can’t haggle one free from some inbred coot somewhere.”

She cracked her neck and pointed behind her. “Your stuff is right over thereby. Snuck a jar of flanamingo blood in there on the chance you get stuck out here again.”

Leaky nodded and smiled at her new friend. “Alright, Silk. Thanks. For everything.” She called for Dog, and the lumbering beast eagerly closed the distance between them.

The salespony shook her head and turned tail, beginning her long walk back to civilization. “It’s nothing, MOZ. Keep your chin up. I’m sure shit will get better for you.”


	-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


“Leaky Faucet’s log: Day 7, time: 9:42AM in the morning. Quadrant 4A4 is a disappointing failure. The area is perfect for habitation. The water is slightly irradiated, but nothing that can’t be treated, and the ground is shown to be fertile enough for plant life of various kinds of crops to be grown.” She gave a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, this area is SO perfect for habitation, that I have found many piles of...ah...refuse, belonging to flanamingos. These creatures, I have learned, are products of bioengineering. They are ferocious and carnivorous by nature, and though mostly nocturnal, they have been known to wander mid-day for food. I have personally seen what they are capable of, and seeing this many piles of flanamingo droppings implies this must be a very frequented hunting ground or that this is near a nest or something. I highly advise against this area.” 

She ended the recording and sat on her haunches, making sure not to accidentally smear flanamingo manure on herself as she did so. Dog stood on a cliff, looking out for purple trouble. The flanamingos were probably asleep at this time. Probably. Leaky switched on the radio, hoping to catch that jingle that’d been stuck in her head for days to cheer herself up.

“--ayseed has been sacked. I say again folks, the backwater town of Hayseed has been sacked.”

“Oh, no…”

“That makes FOUR major towns so far, all gone down by whatever the hell also sacked Plumwood. Ignoring the fact we have witness reports that our little Mother of the Zona was last seen being turned away from doing business with Hayseed, we finally have eye-witness details on what exactly is responsible for these attacks. This is new to me too, ponyfriends, I’m finding out as I read it to you. Exciting, eh?

“I recorded the interview on holotape. Had to put up with the dude’s horrible accent, so bear with me here. Ahem.




“‘We was playin’ cards with Turnip Jam and the rest o’ the fellas when we heard a voice outside the gate. It was loud, but girly. Was a mare. She said some shit about salvation through old glory or somethin’. The guards at the wall just laughed at whatever it was over the gate. I started getting up and walkin’ to my crawl space because the voice was gettin’ all angry and shit. As soon as I got to it, I heard the gate explode and a buncha hooves marching. I heard screaming and hollerin’, so I ducked into my crawl space and shut the cover until it all stopped. Last thing I saw before I closed the cover were ponies in gas masks and dull bronze armor shootin’ my asshole neighbor with this yellow beam doohickey and him fallin’ to the ground. His eyes was movin’ all crazy and his mouth hung open, like he was awake but couldn’t move. He was starin’ right at me.”

“Welp, you heard it here folks. Ponies with gas masks and bronze armor. Those are the fuckers invading the Zona and stomping out any civilization they see. How do they relate to the big MOZ herself? Who the fuck knows, but we’re gonna find out, aren’t we, ponyfriends? I--
.
..
…
“What’s… ah shit.

“Well, you’re in luck, ponyfriends, you’re gonna get to hear ol’ Muckraker fight some fuckin’ flanamingos. Oh shit, three of them. Big boys, aren’t you? Alright, fuckers, I’m ready for you. Come and get it.”

A sharp explosion bounced around the wasteland, making Leaky flinch. The sound was deafening.

Moments later, like an electric echo, the radio broadcast the same explosion.

“ahHA! Fuckin’ Flanamingo Flambe. Come on, you shits! Join your friend in hell!”

Leaky’s ears perked. She had just heard the same shout in the area.

Muckraker was here.


*****************************************************************


Leaky shimmied up a wind-blasted cliff, trying to track the location of her number one fan. In the scorched plains before her stood an olive drab earth stallion with short, messy, jet black hair, covered in pieces of broadcasting equipment welded on some sort of makeshift armor made of rusted road signs. Above this 'armor' lay the biggest battle-saddle Leaky had ever seen, even bigger than the machine gun battle-saddle of the earth stallion who tried to kill her the other day. A tall antenna jutted from the back of this contraption, crackling with electricity. Muckraker was literally a mobile, armed, broadcasting station.

Two giant flanamingos, each easily twice the size of any Leaky had seen before, circled away from the charred, exploded remains of their kin, cautiously creeping in opposite directions. Their heads were low, their chitinous lips pulled back, revealing their rows of malicious, needle-like teeth. One snapped forwards before darting back, its partner taking advantage of the distraction to leap at Muckraker’s undefended flank.

Causally, Muckraker kicked a lever in his battle-saddle and a port opened to face the flanamingo. As the flanamingo darted back, confused, he broadened his stance and braced himself before biting down on the battle-saddle’s mouthpiece. 

Another rocket ripped through the silence of the wasteland, catching the purple monstrosity square in the chest in midair before exploding violently, showering the remaining flanamingo and the armored stallion with guts and gore.

“FUCK yeah! You want some of Muckraker too, you bottom-of-the-foodchain nature’s-reject motherfucker?!” He kicked the lever to open the ports once more, only to be met with a pained mechanical whir. He looked frantically at his malfunctioning battle-saddle. “Now?! No fucking way!” He kicked the lever repeatedly, trying to unjam his weapons as the lone flanamingo puffed itself up dashed towards him with a shriek of triumph akin to nails in a blender.

For the first time in stepping into The Outside, Leaky hesitated saving the life of a pony. Every joint in her body ached for her to charge into the scene and save him from a horrible fate, but her mind wouldn’t co-operate.

It’s him. He’s the pony who’s made your life a living hell,’ she thought impertinently. ‘A few more seconds and you’d be free to save Stable 16 without any more problems. And you want to save him? So he can continue torturing you? You don’t owe him anything, especially after going so far to get you killed. Why would you even consider coming to his aid after turning the whole Zona against you?’ 

        The chitinous monstrosity arched its neck back and gnashed at Muckraker, a narrow dodge saving his life but unhinging the microphone he had used to spread Leaky’s misery all across the Zona. “You shit! I need that!” he barked as he headbutted the creature on the snout. It stumbled back, more offended at the ineffectual attack than anything. It reared again, preparing to rip off more than ancient pre-war equipment this time.

A rock pelted it right in the temple before it could strike. The creature let out a confused cry and turned angrily with a cold eyeless glare.

Leaky threw another rock up in the air with her telekinesis and knocked it towards the flanamingo with her baseball bat. It missed completely. “That’s it! Over here! Woohoo!”

Muckraker looked at the mare who had just saved him, bewildered until a slow realization washed over him. He quickly went back to work unjamming his weapons, cussing at each failed attempt.

The alpha flanamingo took no time to stalk, infuriated at Leaky’s provocation. It ran towards her at full speed and lunged, giving Leaky barely any time to pull up SATS. She wound up her decrepit baseball bat and swung mightily with all of her strength.

CRAK!

The full force of the blow caught the creature square in the jaw, the bat splintering as the beast recoiled, apparently unharmed ( [Strength 9+] Failed). It shook its head, before its talon shot forward with lightning speed, catching her in the chest and sending her flying. As the beast stalked closer, Leaky held up the broken stump of her baseball bat. It was better as firewood than a weapon at this point, but it was better than nothing. As the creature lunged, she thrust the splintered end at the creature’s neck, recognizing only after that the move was a faint. With something almost like a chuckle, the beast snapped its head, sending the bat flying off into the distance. 

It was toying with her. 

Leaky slumped back. Of all the ways to die in the Zona, she’d never expected to go like this: saving the life of the one pony who was the root of her strife. As the creature strode forward, it made a whistling noise, almost like a—

A rocket grazed by her face, singing her coat and strands of her mane. Panicked, she rolled away, somehow dodging a surprise assault by the flanamingo as it clipped the creature’s side, before the world decompressed around her. She collapsed to the ground, her ears ringing from the deafening pressure of a shot that had missed her by a mile. The flanamingo wasn’t so lucky. Her hearty dinner spewed in front of her, mixing with flanamingo guts as she tried desperately to confirm which way was up.

She looked up frantically with stinging eyes and shouted something even she couldn’t hear over the unceasing ring in her ears. From the distance, Muckraker strode towards her, leaning in close to her bleeding ear and smirking, knowing full well she couldn’t fully hear him.

“Haven’t you listened to my stories? Never, ever save the guy trying to kill you.”

He shot up suddenly and adjusted his disjointed microphone with a grunt. “Took me forever to fucking weld this thing just right.” He looked over to the crumpled mess trying desperately to get to her hooves. “You know what I’m talking about, right?” He sweeped her foreleg out from under her, sending her crashing into the ground again. “Ha. Right. Look who I’m talking to.”

Muckraker turned away from Leaky as he pressed a big flashing button on his makeshift armor. A light at the tip of the antenna on his back lit up as the metal construct sparked to life. Neon signs on the sides of his battle-saddle lit up, reading “ON AIR” in obnoxiously saturated red.

He motioned with his hooves grandly, as if trying to rile up an imaginary audience in front of him. “Gooooooood evening, ponyfriends. You won’t believe what just fell into my hooves. Princess Luna’s star-studded clitoris? I hear you ask. Nah nah, I say. That was last week’s dream. No, something way more succulent this time.” He turned his head slightly to the object of his obsession for the greater part of this week and smiled dubiously. “The Mother of The Zona herself.”

He spun around quickly and raised a hoof to the air. “Yes, my fellow degenerates. When Muckraker sets his sights on something, shit gets done. You’re all lucky I’m just as lazy, or else you’d be calling me King Muckraker by now! Isn’t that right, MOZ?”

He trotted leisurely to Leaky, smirking as she desperately tried to find some strength in her legs.

“I’ll admit, ponyfriends. She’s a lot cuter than I thought, in a sort of ‘bitch terrorizing our home’ kind of way.” He winked at her with a snide smirk. “Speaking of which, where’s your Hellhound anyway? Wasn’t he ‘fiercely loyal’? ‘Cos I got a rocket full of napalm with his name on it if he decides to interrupt our little show, and I want him to try it badly. Because I literally have his name written on it. Wanna see?”

He leaned over and flashed Leaky the exposed port of his battlesaddle. Drawn crudely in white chalk was the head of a cartoony hellhound, it’s eyes crossed out with Xs and its tongue lolling out. “Well, not written written, but hey. Direct all complaints to my buffalo tribe. The So-Sue-Me’s.” 

He sat on his haunches in front of her and picked her head up to force her to look him in the eyes, both hooves squishing her cheeks. “Anyways, you fucks. Stay tuned for the show of the century, the presentation that tops post-pony apocalyptia entertainment: a live execution, starring the Mother of the Zona.”

ZZZORCH!

A yellow zap of wispy energy engulfed both of them without warning, sending them both seizing to the ground as energy coursed over their bodies. Unable to even scream at the unearthly sensation, Leaky and Muckraker collapsed on the dirt with a thud, prisoners in their own bodies.

Leaky’s eyes darted all over, trying to pinpoint the source of the attack. She tried calling for Dog, who she had foolishly told to wait back at the cliff, but only managed to let out a wet gurgle.

As the ringing in her ears finally began to subside, she heard the stomping of metal boots all around her. A smaller set of hooves stood over a glaring Muckraker and grabbed his microphone from his suit. He stirred slightly, furious that someone had touched his prized salvage.

 She felt something pick her up and gently carry her to the back of a wagon, laying her down with a delicate hoof. A burst of static played through Leaky’s Pipbuck, announcing that the airwaves were broadcasting yet again. A youthful, exotic, but coldly stern feminine voice emanated from the speakers.

“Ponies of the vasteland, it is your time. 

For far too long, zhe blessed land of our Goddesses Luna and Celestia has been blighted, infected by disease, radiation, death and plight. By abominations who hunger for your blood and your fellow ponies who are just as eager. For far too long vee have hoped that some special few would actively seek to restore the old glory vee, as a race, once claimed, and rebuild everything vee, as ponies, stood for. 

“But ponykind has vallowed in its misery time and time again, forced to drown in the inheritance our ancestors have cruelly handed down to us. 

“No longer. Vee vill be the hoof that pushes you to be better. Vee will be the hoof that helps you give life to your ‘Zona’.

“Vee vill not do zhis for ourselves, it is not by our hoof that vee rule. It is for you, for your children. To have clean water, to be free from zhe abominations zhat hunt you, to never feel an unheeded need from the earth your descendants have taken for granted.

“Vee toil not to rule over you, but to vake Equestria from her fitful coma. And you, my little ponies… are the catalyst.”


******************************************************************************************


Footnote: Status updated: Captured!You have lost all of your equipment.
        You are Concussed! You suffer -4 to Perception.

> Chapter 5: Mutual Co-Operation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The night was menacingly quiet, even for a place as desolate as the Zona. Ghostly blue light shone across the eerily hushed wasteland from the full moon as it pierced through portions of the cloud covered sky. A hooded figure shambled towards a musty, craggy cave. Her tired hooves stumbled weakly, trudging as she cradled a small bundle in one foreleg. Upon entering the cave’s foreboding mouth, a massive metallic churn filled the air. Hearing a familiar sound again filled her heart with relief. Wearily reaching a slowly opening cog-shaped wall of metal, an even more familiar sight stepped out of the Stable door surrounded by an emotionless wall of stoic guards.
 
She raised her hoof to the figure. “Stop right there. Come any further and we’ll open fire.”
 
“Overmare Sunny Days!” shouted the figure as she pulled back her hood. Her pale blue hair bounced out, matted with dirt and blood. “It’s me! Leaky! Leaky Faucet!”
 
The Overmare remained still. “I know it's you, Leaky.” Her voice was cold and distant.
 
The bundle in Leaky’s forelegs stirred awake and began to cry softly. “Overmare Sunny Days, please...I can’t...I didn’t...I couldn’t find any place we could...” Her voice trailed off, the bundle’s cries getting louder and louder.
 
Sunny Days stood motionless, her eyes narrowing. “We know, Leaky. You failed us. You’ve failed your people.”
 
Leaky recoiled at the verbal assault. “No! I...I tried! I did! The Outside is an awful place!” She looked down, on the verge of tears, at the wailing newborn foal cradled in her hooves. “It’s no place for children...I can’t go back...”
 
“You can’t come in,” deadpanned the Overmare. Leaky’s ears folded back, the sound of her heartbreak almost audible in the dead silence of the wasteland. “You failed us. You’ve failed your people. Now they’re going to starve, or worse, all because you didn’t care enough.”
 
“I did! I did care!” The new mother shouted as the dam of tears burst forth. Her foal’s cries were deafening.
 
A foreleg hooked around her comfortingly. “Of course ya did, dearie. It’s why ya killed me in cold blood, wasn’t it?” The pony beamed as blood freely flowed from the gaping wounds on her temple and neck. “Because ‘ya caaaared’, eh?”
 
Leaky stumbled back in horror, shielding her crying foal. “No! It wasn’t...I...” She slid to the floor as her rear collided with the wall of the cave, futilely trying to cradle her foal to sleep. Her sobs almost matched her baby’s cries. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry...”
 
The ghastly vision of the long-dead mayor shook her head. “Tsk tsk tsk. Sorries and tears flavor yer mornin’ coffee, sweetheart, but they don’t bring Plumwood back from the dead, now do they?” She leaned in close to Leaky, her face as kind as ever. “To think: if you’da just kept yer big nosy nose to yerself in the first place, your people might’ve already been livin’ happy and free back in my town. But ya didn’t! And now yer people are—Hrrk!” She said as she dragged a hoof across her neck and her tongue lolled out. “Y’know?”
 
Leaky shook her head violently, making no attempt to hold back her tears. “No! Nonono! I couldn’t just do nothing! The children...You were all bad ponies!”
 
“Okay!” Plum Pudding nodded once sarcastically. “Are ya sure? Cos’, I mean, how do ya know? You’ve never had to make hard choices to save the ponies you care about, have ya? It’s not as easy as it looks! Sometimes, you gotta be the villain in yer own story for yer people to have a happy ending. I’ve told ya that before, haven’t I?” She sat on her haunches beaming and shrugged, blood starting to pool at her hooves. “Well, in yer case, you became the villain, and ya still got the bad end!”
 
Leaky shook her head and cradled the foal close to her face, silently mouthing words of protest, seeking comfort in its warmth and... stickiness..? She froze. The warmth was trickling down her neck. She slowly lowered the baby, seeing only sheets soaked with crimson. With trembling hooves, she unwrapped the burlap blankets.
 
The pale, smiling face of a filly stared back: the one who Leaky had failed to save from the flanamingo. Leaky unwrapped more of the blanket, revealing jagged flaps of flesh where her body should be.The filly stopped smiling and hung her mouth agape, staring horrified at Leaky with bulging eyes.
 
Leaky shrieked and dropped the filly’s remains. The severed head bounced with a sickening thud once before exploding into a puff of ash. The dust blew into her face as she collapsed to the ground in a debilitating coughing fit. Still crumpled on the floor, she began to crawl towards the Stable door, sobbing.
 
The Stable 16 guards raised their weapons, their faces cold and emotionless. “I warned you, Leaky,” growled the Overmare. “You’ve failed us. Come any closer and I won’t hesitate to put you down.”
 
But Leaky didn’t care. She dragged herself across the cutting, rocky earth in a crazed stupor, drawn inexorably like a moth to the warm candle of the Stable.
 
The guards aimed and cocked their weapons. Sunny Days glowered at the pathetic display in front of her. “It was a mistake sending you out. Look at you. Disgusting.”
 
Leaky shouted in agony and desperation with each pull towards the door. She could barely see through the tears. “PLEASE! I-I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!” The last of her meagre strength gave out inches from the door, collapsing into the muck. She buried her face in the ground and sobbed quietly through clenched teeth.
 
The Overmare stepped over Leaky’s defeated form. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. She reached into her side bag and gripped a long, purple machete in her telekinesis. Her eyes were filled with indignation. “Even boogies don’t deserve to suffer.”
 
Leaky shut her eyes in tearful acceptance. With one final swing, her world turned a soothing black as all of her burdens disappeared instantly.


***********************************************************

 
Darkness faded gradually, turning into a dark-hued blue. She felt her eyes creak open as consciousness seeped into her, producing a soft gasp from her tired lungs. She ached all over. She tried to prop herself on a shoulder, but her exhausted body protested and fell on its side. Defeated, she rested her head on the cold, hard floor. 

She traced her head with a fatigued hoof and felt cloth near the area that Muckraker’s rocket had singed. A bandage had been wrapped with a tender thoroughness that the Stable doctors back home couldn’t have matched. The cloth was damp with sweat and slightly stained with blood from her ear. She gingerly tapped the area. To her relief, she could still hear. A thought struck her and she ran a hoof in trepidation across her naked body, sighing with relief when she felt her belly. It was still there, as round and pregnant as ever. She felt her foal kick lightly inside of her. This was a welcome companion in her solitude. 

Consoled, she slumped back onto the floor and peered wearily across the room she found herself in. It was a small cell with one barred window casting calm, ethereal moonlight across the cracked concrete floor. The walls were lined with torn, dirty posters, too dilapidated to read if Leaky even had the energy to try.
 
Her unbandaged ear perked as a murmur filled the air. She focused, trying to clear her muddled mind enough to make out the words and... tune? The hauntingly beautiful voice was echoing around the enclosed cell, soothing Leaky’s tired mind and body. The somber sweetness of the voice reminded her of the times her father would try and comfort her by singing during the riots that plagued Stable 16 in her youth.
 
As she tried craning her neck to pinpoint the source of the solemn music, her protesting body’s energy reserves gave out and caused her to sag back onto the floor. She curled up into a ball and rubbed her belly, letting the haunting voice lull her back to a hopefully more restful sleep.
 
“I looked at the skies, running my hooves over my eyes,
And I fell out of bed, hurting my head, from things that I said,
'Till I finally died, that started the whole world living,
Oh, If I'd only seen, that the joke was on me...”

 


**********************************************************

 
“Any updates at all?” asked a small blonde mare kneading her temples with both hooves, her desk stacked with tall piles of extra ration requests and theft reports. The bags under her eyes were deeper than ever, courtesy of countless sleep-deprived nights trying to bring order to a Stable at the breaking point.
 
“No, Overmare,” answered a unicorn mare with a knotted mane. Her glasses were missing one lens and her once white lab coat was stained with dirt. She adjusted her broken spectacles and looked down at the clipboard she held in her telekinesis. “We haven’t had reports from any of the scouts we’ve sent out for about...” She paused as she squinted at the clipboard. “...two days.”
 
The Overmare pounded at her desk with both hooves, sending papers scattering across the floor. “Goddesses damn it.” She looked at the mess she had caused and sighed. “We need to hold on for a little longer. They’re close. I can feel it. What can we do?”
 
An earth stallion with braces cleared his throat. “Well, Overmare Sunny Days...if we reduce rations once again, we can maybe add a week or two to our deadline before running out of supplies fo--”
 
“Perfect,” interrupted the stressed-out Overmare as she pointed at the stallion. “Do that. ASAP.”
 
“Overmare Sunny Days, if we do that...ponies will be furious. They almost rioted when we took in those children one of the scouts sent us! More strain on rations will surely do us in,” chimed in a third pony from behind a chart with meaningless mathematical equations scrawled all over it. “We’d need to step up security, and we’ve already given out most of our weapons and armor to the scouts.”
 
“Not to mention that the reactor has already begun to leak radiation...” added the unicorn with the unkempt mane. “As long as we have our Rad Away stockpile, we should be able to treat the symptoms as they show, but we won’t last another week..”
 
The Overmare leaned on the desk with her elbows and clasped her muzzle. Her brow unfurrowed as her eyes started to glaze slightly. 

“Are you okay, ma’am?” asked the unicorn. The Overmare’s uncharacteristic quietness worried her advisers. 

She lowered her hooves from her mouth and let out a small sigh. “We’ll blow that bridge when we get there.” She straightened her back, regaining her powerful composure after a painful moment of doubt. “I have full trust in our saviors.”
 

**************************************************************


 
Morning crept in through the small, barred window in Leaky’s cell and washed the room in the wasteland’s cold grey paint. Leaky wearily opened her eyes and let out a long sigh. Her body ached for her to go back to sleep, but her worried mind was loud and awake. She propped herself up on her shoulder, her muscles finally waking from their stubborn slumber.
 
“Finally awake. Fuck.” The voice was sharp and venomous. “And here I was, starting to think I DID kill you. Sharing a cell with a corpse and shit.” Leaky slowly turned to the voice, her chest tight. The olive drab stallion was huddled in a corner adjacent to Leaky, his jet black mane matted with dirt and dust. His heavy equipment was gone, leaving only the metal scraps decorating his forehoof and the metal collar that once held his microphone.
 
“You,” hissed Leaky. She slowly rose to her hooves, struggling to ignore her screaming joint’s pleas to give out.
 
Muckraker got up from the floor with a groaning chuckle. “Careful there, mommataur. You can’t do shit after whatever they shot at us.” He turned his head to show Leaky a gash on his chin. “I tried. My legs gave out from right under me—crashed into the ground face first and just laid there for hours.” He turned his head quickly towards the pregnant unicorn and squinched his golden eyes. “I didn’t cry.”
 
Leaky did her best to lower her tired body in an intimidating pose and glowered. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t make you cry.”
 
Muckraker rolled his eyes and suppressed a sharp chortle. “Oh, shut the fuck up. Don’t you have something to apologize for?” He sat back on his haunches and put his hooves to his face. “I’m sooorry! I’m soooorry! I caaaaared!”
 
Leaky flinched and wrinkled her nose. “You...you horrible pony!” Her face twisted in rage as she stomped towards the snickering propagandist.
 
“You two! Break it up!” shouted a muffled, electronic voice. The owner of the voice banged an armor-plated hoof against the iron bars, forcing Leaky to stop and shield her hurt ear from the reverberation.
 
A bronze-armored stallion stood at the mouth of the opened cell. Even through the dim morning sun, his gas mask’s blue lens shone an eerie, incandescent light. He stood tall above both Muckraker and Leaky. An elegantly painted drawing of a crescent moon overlaying a sun decorated the sides of his flank. 
 
He nodded at the door behind him. “You two have orientation. Move up.” 

Muckraker chuckled at the word. “What is this? Magic kindergarten? Is this the part where we learn about manners?” 

The armored stallion’s emotionless gaze fell upon Muckraker, causing the radio pony to backpedal slightly. “I won’t tell you again, Lost One.” His sizable battle saddle whirred and moved into place.

“Zat’s quite enough, soldier. Vait outside,” ordered a small mare as she walked into the room. Her coat was white as fresh snow, with strands of her blonde mane poking out from under a black, short-brimmed cap. “I vant to inspect zeese vorkers myself first.”

‘Workers…?’ thought Leaky. 

The stallion nodded to mare and trotted to the outside of the cell.

The mare turned her piercing gaze to the pair of captives, continuing only after the door had closed behind her ‘soldier’. “So,’’ she began, speaking with an accent Leaky had never heard before, not even in the old movies she used to loot from Stable 16’s rundown library. “You two are finally avake.” Her eyes probed at Muckraker as she inspected his scarred and mangled body, toughened by countless years surviving the Zona.
 
“Fuck you,” barked Muckraker, trying his best to strike an intimidating pose as his muscles failed to co-operate. “Where’s my equipment?” The mare looked at the olive drab stallion without moving her head, her disinterested gaze still examining his lean form.
 
“In due time,” she deadpanned as her eyes set upon Leaky. They hung upon her baby bump, which Leaky instinctively covered with a hoof. Her piercing, pale blue eyes moved up her neck and settled on Leaky’s horn. She turned her back on the two and started walking out of the room as two soldiers, identical to the stallion from earlier, filed in from outside. “But vor now...Equestria needs you. Take zem vith zhe ozhers.”
 
The armored stallions motioned Muckraker and Leaky out of their dingy cell, their bronze-plated armor clattering as they did so. “Not zhe loud vun,” she added as she exited the building. “Escort him to my office. I have use for him.”
 
As Leaky and Muckraker were marched outside into misty rain and thick mud, massive factories came into view around her with tall smokestacks churning out black trails of thick, menacing smoke. Her nose curled at the acrid smell of burning wood and rubber. 
 
A guard lightly tapped her rear and pointed towards the tattered remains of an old barn. “Keep moving, Lost One. Towards that building.” She complied wordlessly. 

As they marched towards the barn, Leaky looked around her. Rotations of similarly armored guards trotted around purposefully, the wispy light emanating from their blue goggles swirling around the mist. Tired, unarmored ponies carried barrels and support beams in and out of the remains of old buildings while being escorted by guards with live battle saddles. Near the barn, throngs of dirty earth and unicorn ponies tended to massive plots of land, shoveling dirt and mud from the vast network of trenches criss-crossing the land. 

 Forked shapes could be made out in the distance through the ocean of mist with colorful and feathery extensions topping the end of their limbs, contrasting almost disturbingly in the pale blue light of the morning.
 
The guard poked at her flank with the barrel of his long-rifle battle saddle, snapping her out of her trance. “Inside.” He motioned to the barn with a bronze-clad hoof. A chorus of shouts rose from inside the worn wooden building. “C’mon, you. Pick it up. Orientation is starting.”
 
‘Orientation...?’
 
She opened the barn door’s rusted handles to peer inside. A mass of worried, frightened, and downright angry wastelanders from every walk of life were huddled indoors. Their shouts were deafening; some demanding answers, some demanding being returned to their daily lives, and none of them happy. There were no guards inside the barn, only odd, metallic, spider-like constructs with an otherworldly sheen to their angular carapaces.
 
The guard pushed Leaky inside the barn and closed it. A dull thud barred the door. Leaky turned away, looking back at the unruly abductees. They were getting more and more restless by the second. Not wanting to stand out, Leaky lowered her head and quickly trotted towards the outskirts of the crowd.
 
After a few obstreperous minutes, the barn door swung open with a crash and silenced the crowd. The white mare with piercing blue eyes stood at the door, commanding the same aura of unquestioned authority that she possessed in Leaky’s cell. She brushed her blonde mane out of her eyes and adjusted her cap imperiously. The crowd whispered as she strutted towards a lone podium situated on a stage in front of the audience. Leaky noticed her cutie mark—a pink heart cradled in the middle of a warm sun. 

She propped herself up on the podium and gazed into the expectant masses before clearing her throat. “Ponies of zhe vasteland,” she announced, her smooth, delicate voice filling the room like cigarette smoke. “I am Justicia Rein-Strum, 4th Overmare of Stable 50, und I have gathered you here from your various homes und towns to tell you zis… it is your time.” The crowd broke out in roars of protest, which the mare ignored. “For far too long have I vatched you all tear apart zhe province of our Goddesses Luna und Celestia. My heart feels its pain as you ravage und maim somezhing zhat vas once so precious to everypony. But I see potential in all ov you. Zhat is vhy you are here und not dead, paying for your sins against zheir sacred land.”

A raider mare with a spiked, red mane shouted over the boiling crowd. “What the fuck do you want from us?!”

“You misunderstand,” started Justicia, ignoring the specifics of the question. She raised her hooves slowly in the air as her eyes wandered towards the ceiling. “Equestria vas once a proud, loving land. Celestia’s heavenly sun bathed its residents in tender light, und Luna’s sublime moon brought restful slumber to the land avter a hard day of work und play.” She exhaled sharply at imagining such a thought, before locking her gaze unto the ponies before her. “Zhe fertile ground grew bountiful harvests, green as far as zhe eye can see. Instead of twisted abominations zhat hunger for your life, zhere vere soft, furry, friendly animals who never hesitated to valk alongside you during your days out.” She leaned on the podium, her face grim. “You misunderstand. It is not vhat I vant. It is vhat you deserve. It is vhat your children deserve.”

A gruff unicorn stood up and yelled. “Fuck the children! I want to go home!” The crowd jeered in agreement. The spiderbots raised their carapaces slightly in response.

“You cannot go home,” retorted Justicia. “Your home, as you know it, is dead.” The ponies in front of her fell silent, confused. The unicorn froze and slowly sunk back to the floor.

“Vhen I first stepped out of Stable 50,” she continued. “I saw not zhe sacred land blessed by our Goddesses as told by our elders. In its place vas a blighted, charred vasteland, devoid of any kindness. Instead of kind ponies who valued friendship above all else, cutzhroats and thieves roam in zeir place who vere just as eager as any abomination to take your life. But like a phoenix rising from it’s ashes, Equestria shall rise from your ‘Zona’. Zhen, und only zhen, vhen you see zhe beauty of vhat you are all capable of--zhe beauty of the true Equestria--you shall be released into your new home und vee vill accept any und all punishment for zhe crimes ve’ve committed.” 

A bald stallion burst suddenly from the crowd with a shiv clenched in his teeth and hatred in his eyes. An elderly mare yelped in surprise as the charging hunk of muscles shoved her aside, all the while Justicia stared dispassionately.

The black spiderbots silently aimed their turrets at the stallion and sent forth a blast of wispy, yellow energy before he could even get within a few feet of her. He convulsed wordlessly before tumbling to the floor with a dull thud. The mare strutted over to her would-be assassin and placed a hoof on his temple as his eyes frantically darted from side to side. 

She looked down at him, carefully caressing the contours of his head. “You vill eat. You vill vork. You vill sleep. Und vhen you vake up, you vill do it all again, slowly chipping away at Equestria’s chitinous prison.” Her head turned at the crowd. “Make no mistake about our intentions. Compliance vill be rewarded accordingly. You vill be fed, given a roof over your head, und provided protection from zhe harsh elements your ‘Zona’ delivers unto you. In time, you too shall see warmth und kindness that vee know zis land is capable of.” Justicia raised a hoof and a blade sprung forth from her jacket’s sleeve with a sharp click. Emotionless, she brought it down on the stallion’s temple with a wet SHWIK and gave it a gruesome twist, causing the pony’s eyes to bulge and twitch before rolling back into his head. The crowd recoiled in fear as she gave the blade one final grisly jerk. “Resistance vill be punished swiftly.” The spring-loaded blade retreated back into her sleeve as she made her way towards the barn door. Armored guards piled into the building and beckoned the crowd to get in a line. “Do not fail me. Und most importantly, do not fail Equestria.”

        As she left, the guards brandished their weapons and began shouting at the new ‘workers’. They were shoved into a line by force and ordered to march out of the barn. Leaky made herself as small as possible and joined the line.

“Her,” boomed a muffled voice. Leaky’s ears shot up as she slowly looked back. To her dismay, one of the soldiers was looking right at her. “Take her away.”

Leaky backpedaled against a wall.A few curious ponies watched the scene as they passed by. “Wh-what? No, I didn’t do a-anything!” Two guards hooked their forelegs around hers and dragged her outside the barn. Leaky struggled as she began to panic. 

“Don’t struggle, Lost One,” deadpanned one of the guards as he pulled Leaky’s body. “Overmare Justicia has use for you.”


*****************************************************************************


The room was dark, only illuminated faintly by a single overhead lamp. Leaky peered around into the muddied darkness, but saw nothing other than faint outlines of some sort of box with a slowly blinking red light. She looked down at the heavy chains shackled around her forelegs and tugged at them. The chrome table they were attached to refused to give an inch. She was helpless.

“H-Hello? Anyone there?” Leaky quavered back at the deafening silence. The faint echo of her quiet inquiry met her ears through the darkness of the enclosure. She began to feel an overwhelming loneliness seeping deep into her soul which caused her head to lower onto the table. “Someone? Anyone? H-Hello…?”

A door opened in the darkness and Leaky bolted upright. Hoofsteps approached the table at a leisurely pace, the gentle clip-clopping doing nothing to settle Leaky’s racing heart.

A shadowy figure faded into focus as a set of unblinking pale blue eyes met Leaky’s. Without a sound, the figure pulled up a chair and sat down across from her. The figure removed her cap politely and set it aside before fixing a blonde, slightly ruffled mane.

Justicia stared impassively at Leaky for what seemed like an eternity before opening her muzzle to speak. “I apologize for zhe accommodations,” she began. “Can never be too careful around zhe Lost.”

She pulled up the sleeve of her right foreleg to reveal a small metal contraption.She unlatched three leather straps with her mouth before removing it and setting it on the table. “I vill try to speak slowly und softly, as I am fully aware of zhe concussion you have received from zhe loud vun’s missile.” 

The contraption looked like little more than a spring-loaded switchblade worn around the foreleg, its blade was still slightly stained with her assailant’s blood. Leaky briefly thought about lifting the weapon with her magic and attacking the mare, although that would still leave her chained to the table at the mercy of any guards that found her.

The mare noticed Leaky staring intently at her weapon and slid it out of her reach, adjusting it neatly to the side. She clasped her hooves together and sighed in satisfaction at Leaky.

“So,” she began as she leaned forward slightly. “You are zis, ‘Mozher of Zona’, no?”

Leaky recoiled, chains rattling. “Wh-What? No! I-I mean, I am, but I don’t--”

The mare raised a snow-white hoof and shushed quietly. “Please remain calm, Lost Vun. Zhis is no interrogation. Think of it as… a friendly conversation between two long lost friends.” Leaky looked down at her thick iron chains. If this was how she treated her friends, Leaky was thankful not to be among them.

“So, are you? Or are you not zhis mare zhe denizens of zhis ‘Zona’ speak of in hushed vhispers?”

Leaky opened her mouth to protest, but memories of Plumwood flashed in her mind. She nodded once, slowly, looking down at her chains.

“Ah, wunderbar,” the mare rapped the table lightly as she chirped monotonously. “Zhen my search is over.”

She straightened her back and adjusted her fur-lined jacket. “I am Justicia Rein-Strum, 4th Overmare of Stable 50, und I have a job for you.”

Leaky stared incredulously at her kidnapper. “A… a job?”

“Indeed, a job.” Justicia craned a foreleg in a half-shrug. “Well, not a ‘job’ in zhe most traditional of sense. Maybe ‘task’ is a more appropriate word.”

Leaky glared at her silently. This was absurd.

“Nozhing I am sure you cannot handle, of course. Vee vill assign soldiers to acco--”

 “No,” interrupted Leaky, more serious than she had ever been in her life. It was a strange feeling.

The mare cocked her head slightly, almost surprised at her outright refusal. ”No?”

“You are all bad, bad ponies,” she spat, venom coursing through her words. “I’m not going to help you cause more suffering. The Outside hates me enough as it is without me doing… whatever it is you want me to do.”

Justicia blinked once, slowly. “I suggest you still yourself und listen to my proposition, or else--”

“Or else you’ll kill me?” she interrupted again. Leaky faltered slightly as her brain caught up with what her mouth was saying.

Justicia remained silent, her face as emotionless as ever. She inhaled softly and began. “It is an option, vun zhat I vould prefer to use only in extreme cases as a last resort--”

"Like in Plumwood..." Leaky felt a sudden flash of rage. "You… you murdered those innocent ponies!" Revulsion simmered deep in her gut.

Aside from a slight wince, Justicia remained stoic. “An unfortunate occurrence caused by our own naivety und inexperience. Vun zhat vee assure you vill not happen again, especially if you agree to help our cause.” She leaned closer to Leaky. “Too many ponies have died. Help me prevent any more from encountering zhe same fate.”

Leaky felt herself on the verge of tears as she slumped back in her chair, defeated. She thought of Plumwood, the only kind place she had encountered in The Outside, corrupted thoroughly by its surroundings. She thought of Dog, all alone, no doubt wandering in search of his savior after her inexplicable absence. She thought of Plum Pudding’s eyes as she pled for death.

Her eyes welled with tears. “I just want to go home...”

The sounds of Leaky’s sniffles echoed all around the room as Justicia looked on quietly. After a moment, she pulled her scarf from around her neck and slid it across the table. Leaky looked at the beige scarf through tears and picked it up with her telekinesis.

“Yes, a guard informed me you vere speaking of zhe afflictions troubling your Stable in your sleep, so I pieced it togezher.” She ignored the insulted looks an embarrassed Leaky flashed her. “I do believe vee can engage in some form of… mutual co-operation.”

Leaky looked up wordlessly at Justicia as she dried her eyes, which Justicia took as a sign for her to continue.

“You have no doubt seen zhe trees und crops outside.” Leaky remembered the foggy forked figures in the mist. A creeping realization flowed into her as she remembered those familiar leaves that decorated the branches.

“Plumwood’s trees... you didn’t burn them down.”

“Indeed,” Justicia responded. “A precious resource in zis barren vasteland. Vun that vill be the first stepping stone in reviving Old Equestria.” She adjusted her coat and fluffed the fur-lined collar. “Am I to understand zhat your Stable is having overpopulation und supply issues?”

Leaky looked up at Justicia and paused before nodding slowly as she dried her eyes with the scarf.

“I am villing to donate large quantities of food und water to your Stable,” she began, much to Leaky’s surprise. “...As well as send in highly-skilled technicians to apply repairs to vhatever might ail them.”

Leaky leaned away from the table in shock. “W-what? I--”

“In addition,” she interrupted. “I am more zhan villing to set aside a large plot of land in the new Old Equestria just for you und your Stable, once vee reach it. Fertile land, running water, anyzhing you might need.”

Leaky’s open mouth trembled as her mind refused to find the words she wanted to express the wave of anger, sadness, surprise and happiness that conflicted inside of her. Unable to do so, she instead whimpered.

“Be reasonable, Lost Vun,” pleaded Justicia, genuine empathy in her voice. “I vant to help you. I vant to help your Stable. Und more importantly, I vant to help Equestria. So do not leave my request for help unheeded.”

Leaky stared quietly at the scarf in her hooves. The wet stains of her tears were seeping deep into the thin, beige fabric. “What do you want me to do?”

Justicia clapped a hoof to the table as she leaned back. “Gut. You’re doing a great service to the Harmony Movement, vun vee vill not forget.”

“Yeah...” Leaky sniffled once and begrudgingly slid the scarf across the table as Justicia pulled a manilla folder from her jacket. 

“It is a good zhing you agreed, so I can tell my soldiers at your Stable to stand down.” She smiled coyly and picked up her scarf as she slid the folder across the table. “Zhis could’ve gone two different ways, really.” 

Leaky looked up at Justicia, horrified. The slight smile disappeared from her face. “My apologies. It is my attempt at humour.”

Leaky looked up to see Justicia reach into her jacket and produce an elegant and long cigarette holder, which she proceeded to light with the forehoof-worn contraption she had laid on the table earlier. She took a slow drag of the ebony mouthpiece and exhaled a silky plume of smoke, then shook her head once and crossed a foreleg. “You do not mind, do you?” 

Leaky nodded violently and coughed but was interrupted before she could answer properly. “Anyvays, inside you vill find numerous towns marked for you. I vant you to go to these towns und use your… reputation, as it vere, to convince zhem to surrender to us.”

“Why do you need me...” Leaky mewled as she coughed and weakly waved the acrid smoke from her face. “I’m sure you have other more capable ponies…”

“Capable, maybe,” retorted Justicia as she admired the glowing embers at the tip of her cigarette. “But you seem to instill somezhing in zhem which zhe Harmony Movement und its soldiers have failed to do so as of yet.” She leaned in closer, her pale blue eyes narrowing as she did so. “Fear.”

The growing splotch at the pit of Leaky’s stomach welled as her ears folded back against her head. She never wanted to do anything of this sort. She’d cry more if she wasn’t out of tears. 

The corners of Justicia’s mouth twisted into a frown as she leaned back. “Believe it or not, Lost Vun, I absolutely detest violence.” She flicked gray ash from her cigarette and sighed. “As much as vee long for zhe days vhere vee don’t have to resort to such barbaric methods to coerce the vastelanders to vork togezher, vee have nary zhe manpower nor ideology to vage full-scale war against zhe denizens of zhis ‘Zona’. Hence vhy ve’re desperate for…” Justicia paused and weighed her words, then locked her gaze back on Leaky. “...alternate means of subjugation.”

        Leaky looked down at the intricately drawn map while it shook lightly in her magical grip. She bit her lip as her eyes scanned the random topographical blobs, X’s representing towns full of ponies she was tasked into convincing that a life of slavery was preferable to fighting for what they had. ‘Am I really going to do this?’

        ‘When you have ponies that look to ya for their salvation, ya gotta make sacrifices’. Plum’s dying words echoed in Leaky’s ears. She shut her eyes in rejection of the advice she was just now beginning to understand. ‘Sometimes, ya gotta be the monster in the storybook fer yer people to have their happy ending.’

        Leaky looked up, tears having long since ran out. “When do I start wi--”

        “Immediately,” punctuated Justicia, startling Leaky as she got up from her seat and retrieved her forehoof contraption. She picked up her cap and adjusted it on her head. “Vee vill provide you vith anyzhing you might need. Armor, weapons, foodstuffs, etcetera.”

        “Wait!” shouted Leaky. “You mean now?!”

        “Of course,” Justicia retorted. “I understand you are… particularly vulnerable, so I vill be sending my second-in-command to accompany you und lead my army to persuaded settlements. Brilliant field tactician, zhat vun. Vun of zhe best soldiers under the flag of zhe Harmony Movement.”

        She turned to slip back into the darkness and stopped. Her tail flicked as she turned her head slightly to look at her newest subordinate. “Vhat is your name, Lost Vun? Now zhat you have found zhe light of Old Equestria, you are deserving of vun.”

        Leaky looked down at her hooves, her chain rattling in the quiet vacuum of conversation. “Leaky… Leaky Faucet...”



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


        “--ermare? Are you okay?”

        The barrel of the revolver gleamed weakly in the sickly, dim light that lit the office. The metal cylinder that served as a handle for the weapon glowed with a daffodil, yellow aura as it floated in the air. 

“One little squeeze of the trigger would be all it would take. Just one. Then it’d be somepony else’s mess to clean up.” 

Somepony else would have to be the punching bag for the hundreds upon hundreds of hungry and understandably angry ponies that looked to her for guidance, even if she herself had not the slightest idea of what to do.

“Overmare Sunny Days, ma’am?” quavered a sky-blue earth pony with a disheveled, light-orange mane. Her once bright and beautiful coat was noticeably duller; small, wet scabs ruined the the delicate portrait that was her face.

Sunny Days looked up irritably, her stern but otherwise stoic magenta eyes now sunken and tired from countless restless nights. She holstered the ornate revolver into its holster and clasped her hooves to the desk. “Yes?”

“Your twelve O'clock is here. The father of one of the volunteers?”

Sunny Days sighed and slumped in her chair. “Alright, send him in.” The mare nodded and left the office.

A haggard stallion came through the door of her office, looking pale in the dim light of the room. “Overmare Sunny Days,” he began before abruptly clearing the frogs from his dry, itchy throat.He absent-mindedly scratched the back of his black and salted mane as he searched for the words to say. “Any, ahh… word? At all? From--”

“I already told you, Clog,” she interrupted. “If I hear back from Leaky or any of the other volunteers, you’ll be the first to know.”

“No, yeah, I know...” stammered the stallion as he waved his hoof in front of him at the annoyed Overmare. “It’s just that… I was wondering if you could recall Leaky back home, with her baby coming and all--”

Sunny Days raised a hoof and shook her head. “Leaky knew what she was up for when she volunteered, what happens after that is up to the Goddesses. I’m going to tell you what I’ve told everyone who wanted their families recalled after they volunteered to save our Stable.” She cleared her throat and looked to the ceiling while hurried and rehearsed words streamed out of her bored expression. “While I understand your concerns, your family member is the best hope we have of saving our people. Without their duty, we stand no chance of yadda yadda yadda… Now, will that be all, Clog? I have a giant backlog of items I need to worry about. And frankly, your selfish desires are the least of my worries.”

“Overmare Sunny Days!” The sky-blue mare from earlier burst through the door, interrupting the two. “We…cough!...we have another group planning to leave the Stable! These ones look serious this time!”

The Overmare waved away the concern. “Send security to guard the Stable door. I don’t have the resources to bribe parties into staying anymore.”

“Ma’am...” began the mare before her. “The ponies leaving are security.”

Sunny Days’ brow furrowed. “What? Even after giving into their demands?!” Her hooves slammed into her desk in frustration. “Those rotten bastards… Curse them!”

“Overmare Sunny Days, if the security team leaves, there will be no one--”

“Yeah yeah,” interrupted the tired Overmare as she got up from her desk. “I understand the severity of what is happening.” She opened her desk and produced a clear bag of glowing orange liquid. She gave it a single shake as she examined it and then handed it to the blue mare as she trotted impatiently past her. “I’m not dense.” 

“Overmare...” the mare mewled as she stared at the bag in her hooves. “I can’t--” She began to protest as she turned to see the room empty, save for a dumbfounded Clog. A twinge of dread tingled down her spine. 

“Hey! Overmare! Wait!” blurted out Clog as he chased Sunny Days around the door, leaving the mare alone in the dingy room.

The flickering hallways were lined with sick ponies in makeshift gurneys, their bodies too damaged to fight or protest or do pretty much anything other than lie down and suffer. Sunny Days thanked the goddesses that the surplus RadAway that Stable-Tec stocked in Stable 16 had been virtually untouched since the doors sealed almost one-hundred and sixty years ago, save for a few careless ponies taking a dare to spend seven minutes near the reactor. She sighed at the prospect. The innocence and joviality from her grandmother’s tales were worlds away from today’s grim reality. She straightened her neck and widened her stance as sunken eyes looked up at her from ponies with sunken eyes staring through her. Though her body was as wracked with radiation as theirs, she had to be strong for them.

Clog caught up to her, apologizing to every ailing pony he bumped into. “Do you have children, Overmare Sunny Days?”

Sunny Days sighed ruefully as she kept trotting along. “No, Clog, I can’t say I do. My life is already stressful enough without making more mouths to feed.” 

“Well, what about Stable 16?” He corrected. “You care about your people right? That’s why you won’t let us out? So we don’t just leave and die a few steps away from the door?”

Sunny Days trotted along silently. “I suppose I do, Clog, but sometimes certain people make it really hard to.”

“Well, let me tell you something then, Overmare. This was a long, long while ago, back when things started to get real bad. I just got fired from my job keeping the pipe systems in check because of payment issues, so Mrs. Sugarbottom was letting me drink for free.”

The Overmare trotted impatiently without a word. Her hooves picked up the pace, and the stallion followed suit.

“So then this… mare, just… comes up to me, asks if she can join me in my misery. I knew she was just using me for the free drinks, but I didn’t care. I needed the company. We talked the whole night.Talked about my job, the Stable, things like that. Before we knew it, we were both really drunk. I ended up taking her to my room, back before we started having to share--”

The Overmare snorted. “Goddesses, Clog. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

Clog exhaled gruffly. “I woke up that morning with a note thanking me for the drinks and that she’d see me around sometime. Didn’t think much of it.”

Sunny Days exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes. “Is this pointless story going somewhere Clog? I have my duties to take care of--”

The stallion twice her size clasped her shoulders and spun her around before pressing his face deathly close to hers. 

“What the fuck?!” she exclaimed as she attempted shaking free, but his powerful hooves held the diminutive Overmare firmly in place. She tried raising her forelegs to strike Clog in retaliation, but to no avail.

“Five months later, I hear a loud knock on my door. Figured it was just the crowd passing by, so I ignored it. A few seconds later, I hear it again, this time faster. More urgent.“ He furrowed his brow, his greying face becoming dark. “I open it to see the same mare from that night, only super thin and really pale, and she's holding a foal. Tiny thing, about the size of your forehoof. “

He inhaled slowly before continuing. “I look at the baby, confused, and back at the mare. She’s sweating and trembling, looks like she’s about to keel over and die. I open my mouth to ask if she’s okay and the mare just… grabs the foal in her magic and tosses it at me. I catch the poor thing in my hooves and it starts crying hysterically. I looked up, confused out of my skull, and see the mare run into the crowd of ponies going on their daily lives. So, I’m shouting, right? Telling her to come get the foal, and tell me what in the name of Tartarus is happening? I try to catch up to her, but I can’t walk and hold the foal at the same time, and all I can do is just… watch her slip further and further into the crowd, all the while me, a fucking earth pony, have both forehooves occupied, holding this foal and shouting at her to get her baby.”

Sunny Days glared at the imposing stallion. “Get your fucking hooves off of me, Clog.”

The stallion continued, ignoring the smaller mare’s assertion. “So then I look down at this foal, and she's bawling her little orange eyes out. The… the brightest things I’ve ever seen, those eyes, and they’re looking up at me, dripping more than any pipe or faucet I’ve ever seen.”

The Overmare panted as her face remained twisted in dulling anger, but said nothing.

“I take the foal in and sit down on my bed, then look around. I don’t know the first thing about raising children, and I don’t really have anypony you’d call a friend. I tried looking for the mare from that day, trying to give her foal back. I remembered she mentioned something about living near the hydroponics lab, so I decided to try and go there. As I’m heading out the door, the PA starts blaring, and the speakers start playing this song, all sad and slow… You remember that day, don’t you?”

Sunny Days scowled silently before rasping. “The Bread Riots.”

“Yeah...” lamented the stallion. “Ponies just… attacking each other for what little they had. Over bread rations.” He shook his head slowly. “Sure, that’s common now, but this was the first time I’ve ever seen it happen with my own two eyes.” Clog glanced up with a faraway look in his eyes. “That foal cried and cried all night as ponies I knew, neighbors and friends, kept trying to force their way inside. If they opened the door, there wasn’t much I could do against them. But I held her tight. All I cared about up to that point was giving this kid back to her mother, but all I wanted at that point was to protect her with all my life, make sure it lives long and happy, make sure that nothing can come and tear her away from me.”

He continued. “I tried looking for the mare while security was finally bringing an end to the riots because… Goddesses. I don’t even know why. Closure, maybe? But you know how bad the hydroponics area got hit during those riots. More than half of the ponies who lived nearby had been killed or exiled.” He slowly let go of the Overmare and looked down at her. “It didn’t matter. I already made up my mind. I did my best to take care of that foal. Tell me, Sunny Days...” said Clog as his eyes misted slightly, face unchanged. “Would you do that for the people you care about?” 

        Sunny Days staggered backwards from the stallion. Her mouth hung open, searching for the right words to properly convey the raging flurry of threats and scoldings she felt churning inside of her, but nothing came out. She screamed in frustration as she turned around and stomped off, leaving Clog standing by himself in the hallways stacked with the sick and tired.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Furtive whispers emanated from the Stable entrance as the Overmare approached. Against the moans of the afflicted, their unscratchy voices rang out like clarion bells.

“--we getting out of here then?”

“In a bit,” answered a higher pitched voice. Sunny Days recognized her as the head of security; an otherwise noble pony now spearheading this mutiny. “The children are packing what they can. Five minutes, tops.”

A group of thirteen ponies stood at the mouth of the closed entrance. The plates of the light armor they wore were cracked and dirtied; some were stained with the dried blood of their previous owners. They carried varying loads of supplies strapped haphazardly on their backs and impatiently fiddled with weapons in dangerous states of disrepair.

A loud bang filled the room and startled the group. An ornate revolver was held in the air by a yellow aura, its smoking barrel aimed at the group’s general direction. The diminutive, yellow mare holding the weapon was breathing heavily. The long walk from her office to the entrance took a toll on her deteriorating body. “Commander Rust Bucket, tell your group to stand down and return to their posts.” The Overmare’s heart pounded inside her ears as she waved the pistol to the side, pointing at the right. She faked a smile. ”If you’d kindly.”

The head of security‘s face contorted in shame. “Damn it. You weren’t supposed to--”

“I wasn’t supposed to what?” the Overmare interrupted. “Know that you’re abandoning your people just to go die out there?”

“We can’t stay in here...” protested Rust Bucket. “You know as well as anyone that the radiation--”

“...Is the least of your concerns at the moment. If I recall, I gave you and your families extra medicine to stave off radiation sickness.”

The commander narrowed her eyes. “They won’t last. Not at this rate.”

“We just have to hold out a little longer. Just enough for the scouts to secu--”

“A little longer? A little longer?! You always say that! The scouts AREN’T coming back!” shouted a shaky guard in the front of the group. The dirty visor on his helmet was cracked in three different places. “They’re all dead! And if they’re not, they would’ve gotten some sense knocked into them and left this hellhole behind!” Rust Bucket's sly advance towards the control panel during the speech was cut short as the Overmare's gun was thrust roughly towards her.

“Don’t think I won’t, Rust Bucket. Not for a second.” The revolver floated shakily in the air, but didn’t waver from its target. The Overmare narrowed her cold, tired eyes at her insubordinate.

Rust Bucket slowly inched towards the control panel as the beleaguered security team raised their weapons at their Overmare. “Don’t do this, ma’am. If you shoot at me, my group will be forced to retaliate.”

“With what?” snorted the Overmare. “Rubber bullets? We haven’t had real bullets down here for weeks. Which means… in the time you and your playdate over there hoses me down with your children’s toys, I can show you imbeciles six reasons why opening that door will be the single worst idea you will ever have in your increasingly numbered days.” The group’s aim faltered, not liking the sound of those odds. One by one, barrels lowered towards the ground.

Rust’s legs froze a yard away from the control panel as her eyes narrowed at the Overmare. “You won’t shoot me.”

The chrome hammer on Sunny Days’ ornate revolver cocked back as if punctuating Rust’s defiance. “Try me,” she hissed. “I’ve had a bad day.”

For several small eternities, no one spoke.The omnipresent whir of the control panel and the constant buzz of the overhead lights were deafening in the quiet. 

And then Rust Bucket lunged at the control panel, clenching the lever with her teeth.

“You fool!” shouted the Overmare as her anger got the best of her.

A deafening roar filled the room, startling the Stable dwellers. It was not the sound of a .44 calibre threat being made real, but instead a deep grinding of metal on metal and the wail of a siren. Rust Bucket turned to the Overmare as the Stable door rotated and hissed, then back to the still-inactive control panel.

“Back away from the door!” shouted the Overmare at her subordinates as the heavy cog door slowly trundled to the side. Exhaust from the hydraulic pistons flooded the floor, a scalding fog the startled security team desperately backed away from. A sea of blue orbs floated eerily through the steam, their weak ethereal light peering through the exposed entrance. 

Sunny Days ducked behind a wall and aimed her revolver at the the blue lights, ignoring the nagging sense that five bullets really wouldn't be enough. Why couldn’t her family heirloom be something like a gattling gun, or one of the magical energy weapons she used to read about? 

She motioned at her mutinous security team to aid the Stable dwellers packed in the halls as she prepared to stand against whatever force could penetrate a Stable door

An electronically enhanced voice boomed from the Stable’s entrance. “Citizens of Stable 16. Stand down. We come as friends from a wasted, degenerate land.”

“My ass!” shouted the Overmare from behind cover as she opened her revolver’s cylinder. Inside were five shots. Full metal jacket. Armor piercing, for whatever that was worth when fighting something from The Outside. She slammed the cylinder shut and poked her head slightly from behind cover as she heard a heavy dragging noise. “What do you want from us?”

A bronze figure emerged from the steam. It was more interested in the small clipboard in one of it’s hooves than the long barreled revolver floating nearby.

“What the fuck are you supposed to be?” barked the Overmare as the flamboyant blue brush on its head came upon her pistol’s sight. Three blue stripes were painted on the shoulders. 

The figure checked off something on its clipboard and looked up with a quick half-hearted salute. “A proud soldier of the Harmony Movement. Overmare Justicia Rein-Strum has generously allocated resources of the reclamation effort to help Stable 16.”

The Overmare squinted at the bronze figure, revolver’s lock-on never leaving him. “Wha… Harmony what?”

        Another soldier ran out out of the steam, rapid clicking emanating from its armor. “Sir, high levels of radiation detected, we need to work fast.”

        The one with blue stripes nickered. “Goddesses. Alright, engineers upfront, head to the reactor. Should be located in the same place as back home. The rest of you, I want a command center and supply depot set up right here at the entrance.”

More bronze clad ponies poured out of the steam, carrying everything from toolboxes to unmarked metal crates. They trotted past the confused Overmare, none paying attention to the formidable revolver she was waving around. Startled cries rose from the halls behind her. “Woah woah woah! What the fuck are you doing?!” She pointed the gun at the blue striped one, who had his back turned to her and was waving more of them through the entrance. “You! You better tell me what the fuck it is you think you’re doing here before I paint your tuna cans cherry pie red!”

His brush-clad head turned slightly as he waved even more of them inside. “Stand down, Overmare. The Lost One Leaky Faucet has agreed to help our cause in exchange for the Harmony Movement’s aid in saving her Stable.”

The Overmare lowered her pistol slightly. “Leaky...?”

 He turned his head completely, emotionless gaze resting on the Overmare’s face. “We come as friends. A rare commodity in this wasteland.”

“Likely story,” snarled Sunny Days as she readjusted her revolver. “Now get the hell out of my Stable or--”

“You won’t want to do that, Overmare,” chided the armored stallion. “Friendship is a valuable and rare commodity in the ruins of Old Equestria. The alternative method of securing your co-operation is less desirable, I assure you.”

“Is that a threat, asshole?” growled the Overmare as she cocked the hammer of her revolver.

“No, Overmare Sunny Days,” responded the unflinching sentinel. “It’s a promise.” 

The mare’s magenta eyes narrowed dangerously, the world slowing while the hunk of engraved, gleaming death in her telekinetic grip shook with anticipation.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


“You promise…?” mewled Leaky as she angled her neck to get a look at her newly acquired armor: engraved sheets of bronze plate mail protected the full-body Stable 50 suit she wore underneath, as opposed to the short-cut variants that came standard in the ventilation-challenged Stable 16. She tugged at the leather fabric on her foreleg with her teeth.

The helmeted quartermaster behind the reinforced window simply looked around, then back at the pregnant mare before him. “All accouterments are measured specifically for each--”

“No, yeah, you said that three times already, it’s just...” Leaky spun in circles slowly attempting to catch a glimpse of her bump. “This doesn’t look a bit tight to you...?”

The stallion remained silent for a few moments before shrugging lightly. “I don’t know what to tell you. It was the biggest size we had.”

Leaky sighed. Being pregnant sucks.

“Ah, gut. You are ready,” said a familiarly stern voice from behind her. The quartermaster in front of Leaky threw his hoof to his forehead in salute, as Leaky turned warily. “I just vant to thank you again, on behalf of zhe Harmony Movement und all of Equestria, for agreeing to help secure our future.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice...” grumbled Leaky as she picked up a hefty fluorescent tube of some kind surrounded by a thin cage of metal rods. She clicked a lone button on the handle’s mouthguard and jumped as the rod crackled to life with an energetic blue light. 

Justicia looked down and padded at her jacket with a hoof, pulling out her ebony cigarette holder. “Zhe vasteland had a choice. It made zhe wrong one. Und now...” she said with a sigh as she sat on her haunches and raised her hooves outwards in a welcoming gesture. “...here vee are.”

Leaky looked at the electrical rod she held in her telekinesis and shook her head sadly. 

        “Now,” spoke Justicia. “If zhere isn’t anyzhing else, I vill be retiring back into my office. I look forvard to your progress, Leaky Faucet--”

A guard with a heavy-looking metal pack on his back ran into the room and saluted the blonde mare, an aura of urgency following him into the room. He leaned into his Overmare’s ear and whispered as quietly as his electronically amplified helmet allowed. “Overmare Justicia… we’ve got a situation at Stable 16.” Leaky’s ear perked.

A… situation..?

“What’s going on? Is everything alright?” she quavered.

Justicia turned her head to Leaky and back at the soldier, eyes narrowed. A harsh whisper escaped her frown. “Vat do you mean a situation? I gave a simple order, on a mission of friendship even, how can one possibly create a situation out of zhat?”

“It’s the Overmare, ma’am,” he began. “She, ah...” he looked at Leaky and trailed off.

“She what?!” Leaky burst out. Her heart raced a mile a minute. 

Justicia pointed a hoof towards Leaky. “Still your tone, Leaky Faucet.”

Two armed guards trotted into the room and stood at their Overmare’s side. She leaned into the pony with the metal pack on his back and whispered something into his earpiece, who turned to look at Leaky and nodded.

“Please! What’s happening?!” She shouted as her throat began to tighten. “What happened to my Stable?!”


******************************************************************************


Footnote - Level up! 
     New perk: Big Leagues IIIIIIIIIt’s outta here! You do 20% more melee damage and have a chance to disarm opponents.

    You are Concussed! Even with medical care, you are still too injured to think clearly. You suffer -2 to Perception.