Prologue - The End of Innocence

Prologue:

“That’s when I truly learned just how cruel the wasteland could be. I still look up at the clouds at night. Only now the view is obscured by rusting gantries and armed watchponies. Where there used to be my mother's soft voice, now there is only the quiet sobs of ponies beginning to lose hope, and the painful silence of those who already had.” - Carefree

“Okay folks, we’ll be stopping here for tonight!” shouted an older stallion. Even as he spoke the words he turned and started guiding the wagons where they should go, directing them into a semi-circle near a burned out store-front. Eight wagons pulled into close formation, and two dozen ponies immediately set to work in setting up camp. The moment the wagons were stopped a gaggle of foals spilled from them in a bustle of noise and limbs, laughing as they scattered. A chorus of chiding voices rose up and most of the foals returned, suitably chastised. The rest continued to play and generally run around like maniacs. I watched from the back of the wagon with curiosity, my head turning this way and that, and then turned to look at my momma.

“Can I go play too, momma?” I asked.

My mom turned to look at me, lifting a hoof to brush her brown mane from her eyes. “You remember the rules?” she asked in a sing-song tone.

“Don’t talk to strange ponies, don’t touch strange things and don’t wander far from camp,” I recited.

“Good boy,” she said, leaning over to place a kiss on my forehead. “Go have fun. Come back before dark.”

I smiled wide, and scrambled out the back of the cart, heading off at a gallop down the crumbling street after the other kids. Broken ruins rose up on either side, jabbing toward the sky. I slowed to a trot and glanced around. I’d lost them. I peered into the dark of the closest ruins, feeling my heart begin to beat faster. There was a deep, angry noise coming from it. I backed up a step, hesitating, when a shrill screech echoed out and a trio of foals peeled from the darkness, chased by a fourth making growling noises. The lot of them giggled like made, and made their way back to the camp. I exhaled slowly, and glanced back at the building.

Nothing to worry about. I galloped after them, letting the scary thoughts fade from my mind.

Night fell, and the sky darkened. The caravan gathered around a fire set in the middle of camp and a trio of guards stood several paces out, keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings. The grown-ups talked in hushed voices as the foals slept or played quietly. It was night, and no pony was allowed far from camp.

My momma and I sat in the back of our wagon, staring up at the night’s sky. Faint light shone through the curtain, offering us glimpses of the moon hidden beyond. With her forelegs wrapped around me, my momma nuzzled into my mane. “What lies beyond the clouds, Carefree?” she asked me.

I’d always imagined the wildest of things: lush valleys of the best grass you have ever tasted, flowing rivers with waters that not only didn't make you sick, but also were safe to swim and play in, and friendly ponies who meant no harm. All things I’d never really seen. I told all this to my mom, craning my head back to look up at her. She looked down at me, smiling, but… it didn’t seem very happy. She seemed kinda… worried, I guess. “You okay, momma?”

My momma shook herself free from a memory, and glanced up. "Hope lies beyond the clouds, Carefree. And one day, they will deliver us from this wasteland," She said.

"Who will, Momma?" I asked. Her sad smile wavered a bit and she tore her gaze from the clouds to look at me.

"The Pegasi," she said before glancing up again. She stretched out a foreleg and waved it back and forth as if trying to clear away the clouds. "They'll descend from above on feathered wings, sent by the Goddesses themselves, and they'll take us away from all the horrible ponies. They'll make us safe. One day..."

"Wow..." was all I managed. I stared back up at the clouds, imagining them parting for hundreds upon hundreds of winged ponies. My eyes widened and a smile tugged at the edges of my mouth. The thought of flying ponies coming from on high to deliver us from the horrors of the wasteland left me in awe. Safety was too much for my foalish self to comprehend.

I stayed up well past my mother, trying to imagine what safe would look like. Would there be towns? Cities that weren’t rubble? As my eyelids grew heavy and harder to keep open, I decided that I'd just ask mother come morning.

I never got the chance.

"-free? Carefree! Wake up!"

My eyes fluttered open. I was awake, but hardly alert. I blinked, trying to get the blurred image to resolve itself into something I could make out. My ears were ringing. Why were my ears ringing? I gave my head a shake and peered around.

"W-what's...? Momma?" I mumbled, rubbing one hoof against my eye and the other against my ear.

"Shhh..." she hissed, placing a hoof over my muzzle. "They'll hear you!" The world slowly sharpened into focus and the droning tone in my ears softened to a dull buzz, only to be replaced by the loud crack of gunshots and shouts from the ponies outside.

Wait, outside?

We weren't out by the wagons anymore. Bare shelves stood in the darkened interior like the ribs of a long dead animal. Rusting cans and mold covered refuse littered the floor where it had fallen centuries ago and rotted into an immutable pile, giving the whole building a distinctly noxious smell. My mom had pulled me into the shop next to the camp. She looked around nervously and slowly removed her hoof from my muzzle and looked at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"B-be very quiet, Carefree," she said, nodding her head. "Okay?"

I nodded back, but now my heart was pounding in my chest and my ears dropped flat. My mother peeled away and peeked over the edge of the counter we huddled behind.

"M-momma?" I whispered. She glanced down at me and then back over the counter.

"Need to run..." she muttered. I think it was more to herself than to me.

"Run where, Momma?" I asked as she pulled away from the counter and nudged me into the back of the shop with a foreleg. I scurried into the darkness and stopped to look back at her as she stepped in and pushed the rotting door closed behind her.

"We're g-gonna play hide and seek, Carefree," she said, glancing around the darkened room. I could tell she wasn't in the mood for games though. She was scared. Worse than I had been when I stayed up and listened to the older caravan ponies tell stories around the campfire the other night. Seeing her scared was scaring me.

"M-momma... I don't..." I whispered, my ears glued flat against my head. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be hiding in the dark. "Momma, I'm scared..." I whispered as I began to shake. My mother looked at me with eyes that betrayed her own fear and gave me a quick, tight hug.

There was a sudden crash from the other room, followed by loud voices and the clopping of hooves. I felt my mother's grip on me tighten and could hear the panicked thumping of her heart.

"I saw one come in here," one voice said.

"Ya sure? I don't want to waste time. We got plenty of new merchandise to please the boss," the other responded.

Merchandise? What's does that-

"I-It's okay, Carefree. We just need to hide now," she said quickly as she guided me past the rusting metal shelves and corroded barrels full of Goddesses knew what. In the far corner she snatched up a rusting metal box and placed it over me. I raised it with a hoof only to feel my mom press it back down. "N-new rule... don't come out... no matter what you hear. Understand?"

She didn't wait for a response. I heard her clamber towards the back door. Loudly. Her hooves scrambled on the wooden floor, knocking cans and other things aside as she went. I heard loud banging as the owners of the two voices in the other room threw themselves at the rotted door my mother had shut. Then a loud crack as the decayed wood gave way.

"There! Get her!" I heard a stifled scream and the sounds of struggling. Items skittered across the floor as they were kicked by shuffling hooves. There was a dull thump of something soft being bucked followed by a sudden scream. The grunts and muffled screams seemed to go on forever. Then there was a loud whump and the sound of something heavy dropping to the floor. My heart thundered in my ears. Was momma okay? I had to know. I needed to know. I lifted the metal box up just a tiny bit.

Was that a hoof?

The box around me shone with a hazy orange glow and lifted off. I found myself staring up at a brown unicorn stallion. He wore leather barding with metal plates bolted across his chest. He looked down at me with a resigned expression, magic enveloped loops of chain floated near his head, a rusty shackle hanging off the end.

Please let that be rust…

"Got another one here." he said with a grimace, his foul yellowed teeth peeked out behind a sneer. Behind him I could see a red pony. He was similarly clad, only his barding was older, rougher and painted with a flaming skull. His hoof rested on a lump on the floor. A lump that looked…

“Momma!” I shrieked as I darted past the brown unicorn towards my mother’s prone form. The red pony stepped over her like a hungry dog protecting its meal. “Get away from her!” I screamed, my voice cracking as it rose too high.

“Feisty little shit, ain’t’cha?!” he hissed as he brought his hoof down hard against my head. I dropped to the floor, my vision swimming in and out of focus. “Chain him up already, will ya?!”

“Yeah yeah,” The unicorn said as he floated the shackle over and locked it around my back leg. My eyes shot open and I whipped my head around to stare at the unicorn. “C’mon kid, time to get you back to the boss,” he said as he magically pulled on the chain. The chain snapped tight and threw me off balance. I was dragged along the moldy floor as the unicorn pulled me towards the door to the front.

“No! Momma! Momma, help!” I squealed as I fought for purchase against the grimy wood floor. As I passed a rusting storage rack, I wrapped my forelegs around it. The chain pulled taut and I was lifted off the floor. Several rough yanks followed, each one eliciting a pained scream. I felt the shackle bite into my flesh and the warmth of blood as it seeped out from under the offending metal ring and began to stain my gray coat brown. Each tug jostled the rusting shelf violently. Old cans toppled over and dropped to the floor followed by a toolbox that landed on the floor with a heavy thud and the sound of cracking wood. Just when I thought my leg was going to tear free, the chain went slack and I dropped back to the floor.

“Dammit… Thrash! Kid’s stuck on something! Leave the dead mare alone and get him unstuck! THEN fulfill your debased needs,” the unicorn called.

My eyes burned as tears began to flow freely and I slowly glanced at the prone form of my mom.

Dead? But that means…

“M-momma…” I muttered. The other pony, Thrash, gave a theatrical roll of his eyes and stepped onto her as he made his way towards me. I felt an irrational anger smoldered within me, my heart pounding in my ears. “Don’t touch her!” I screamed.

Thrash paused, looked down at my mother beneath his hooves, and then back up at me with a wicked grin. He planted both hooves firmly on her side and simply stared at me, a smug smile on his face.

“Or what, kid?” he asked. “Look at’chu. Ya barely come up to my knee. Like I’m ‘sposed to be afraid of you.” I glared at him, willing him to burn with all the hatred in my small body. Suddenly the chain pulled tight. The shackle cut into me and I felt it slide further down my leg than my skin should’ve allowed. I glanced at my leg and saw glistening wet muscle peeking past the edge of the cuff. My stomach turned as the realization dawned on me that my skin was being forced off.

PONG!

The support rod I was gripping groaned and popped as the ancient welds snapped apart. I dropped back to the floor, and was pulled across the rough wooden floor as half a dozen heavy steel shelves and supports crashed to the ground. The falling debris crashed into the next nearest rack, knocking it over and onto a stack of barrels. Thrash covered his head with a foreleg and dropped down over my mother’s body as racks holding old boxes of detergent and other mold dusted items toppled over onto his back. He grunted as he was pinned to the ground by the detritus and struggled to pull himself free.

“Dammit! Whips, I’m stuck!” he growled as he pushed against his rusted prison. The unicorn stallion poked his head back into the storeroom and smirked.

“Idiot. I’ll come back and get ya once I get this one thrown into the wagon,” he said as he turned and started to leave again. A loud groaning echoed through the room, followed by the sound of breaking wood. Whips glanced back into the storeroom. There was a loud crack as a pile of shelves and tools disappeared through the floor in a cacophony of clanging metal and cracking wood as it tumbled away revealing a dark nothing beneath. Thrash's eyes bulged and he struggled harder.

“Whips! WHIPS! HELP! SINKHOLE!” Thrash cried out as the weakened floor crumbled away piece by piece and the void devoured more of the shelves and floor. It threatened to swallow him and my mother with equal disregard for their well-being. He struggled against the debris pinning him, his eyes bulging in panic. The unicorn glanced at the expanding fissure separating them and then down at me.

“Kid. You wanna save your mom?” he asked flatly. I glanced up at him, ready to ask him what he meant when I felt myself lifted from the floor and haphazardly thrown across the pit by his magic. I screamed as I passed over it, staring down into the dark abyss that roiled and writhed in on itself, churning like water. I landed in a heap on the other side, just in front of Thrash and my mother. He looked at me with equal parts hate and hope.

“Hurry up kid! Get this shit offa me!” he growled. I got to my hooves and moved closer, pressing against my mom with both forelegs. She was beaten and bloody, angry red hoofprints marring her face.

“Momma?” I muttered. “Momma, wake up…”

“Hurry up, ya shit! That hole’s gettin’ bigger!” Thrash barked. I looked up at him, then back at my mother. He growled in frustration. “Look ya sniveling fuck! Ya save me, ya save her! Now move!”

Now I was focused. I may not have liked the stallion, but I would do anything for my mom. I scurried around behind him and bit onto the closest piece of wreckage pinning him. I tugged with all my might, my hooves struggling for purchase on the aged wood beneath us.

“C’mon! Pull harder runt!” Thrash hissed as he did his best to wriggle free. The floorboards creaked in protest as whatever supports held them up were stressed to their limit.

“I- I can’t! It’s too heavy!” I cried, tears flowing down my cheeks.

“Damn puny foal! Your momma’s gonna die because you’re too fuckin’ weak!” Thrash roared as he struggled even harder against the weight pinning him down.

He was right. I was too weak. I looked around for something… anything I could use. My eyes fell to my bloodied leg and the length of chain still held by the unicorn. I bit into the chain and looped it hurriedly around some jutting pieces of metal. I gave it a cursory glance and then peered around the pile at the unicorn holding the other end.

“Pull the chain!” I called out to him. His head cocked sideways and he fixed me with a confused look.

“Wha-?” he began, but his comrade’s harsh growl cut him off.

“Don’t argue! Just do it!” Thrash shouted. The unicorn scowled and his horn flared brighter as he tugged hard on the chain. The loops snapped tight and the warped shelf groaned as it slowly shifted. I pressed my body against it, pushing as hard as I could.

THUD!

The shelf tumbled over. I rushed over and slipped the looped chains off and rushed to the next heaviest piece.

“Again! Pull!” I shouted. This time there was no hesitation. The chain snapped tight and a large section of shelving groaned as it was lifted off. Thrash managed to push himself to his hooves, the pile sliding off and around him as he did so. The shelves rose up, tilted over in the opposite direction as they slipped out of the chains and disappeared into the pit below.

“Good! Just a little-“ he started, but his words turned into a wretched scream as a length of pipe jabbed into his chest. My mother raised slowly, the short length of pipe gripped tightly between her teeth. Blood flowed around the pipe and spilled out the opposite end. She jerked her head hard, stabbing the pipe deeper into Thrash as she pushed herself to her hooves. He glared down at her.

“Wretched… bitch…” he wheezed, sucking in short, shallow breaths of air. He raised his foreleg and brought it down hard on her cheek with a wet thump and a painful crunching noise. The pipe popped free of the wound with a small jet of blood as my mom’s head jerked away from the force of his blow.

“Momma!” I shouted. I ran over, placing myself between them and glared at the stallion. “Leave my momma alone!” I said in as fierce a voice as I could manage. Thrash sneered down at me briefly before returning his murderous gaze to my mother.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” he hissed as he lifted a foreleg and cracked me across the face. I felt my flesh tear and the newly freed blood ran down my muzzle. I screamed, clutching at it with both forelegs as he shoved me aside and stepped towards my mother as she struggled to get to her hooves once more. “I don’t care if the boss wants more slaves. I don’t even care that you was the first piece of ass that didn’t look diseased as fuck. You die. Here and now,” He said, his voice dripping with venom. He lowered his head and bit down on the hilt of a large knife sheathed on his chest. He pulled it out slowly, the blade dulled with some kind of grease. He lunged forward and jabbed the point of the blade into my mother’s side. She shrieked as Thrash pulled the blade free, blood dripping off the tip.

“Stab me? ME?! I’ll show you how it’s done!” he hissed as he plunged the blade into her again and again. With each attack, she screamed in agony. After the fourth attack he paused, sucking in ragged breaths around the hilt in his mouth. My mother lifted her head and looked at me weakly.

“Free?” she said softly, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. I looked at her, ignoring the pain that radiated from my forehead to my nose and all the way to the back of my head. She looked at the chain attached to my shackled hoof and then back up at me. “Hold tight.” My eyes widened and I quickly gathered up the chain in my mouth. She rolled over and lashed out with her hind legs. She bucked a precariously balanced barrel. It rolled off its perch of garbage and dropped onto the wood with the sound of sloshing liquid. The wood splintered and cracked. Thrash was thrown from his hooves, the knife tumbling from his mouth as the entire floor dropped away beneath us. I darted at my mother, wrapping my forelegs around her tightly as the chain snapped taut. Thrash screamed as he fell into the darkness, disappearing from sight.

“Thrash!? THRASH!” the unicorn called down. He peered over the edge down at us and scowled. “Damn fool,” he muttered as he slowly began to pull us up.

“Momma…” I said around the chain in my mouth. My teeth hurt and I could feel the muscles in my forelegs and neck straining as I held onto her with all the strength I could manage. She looked up at me weakly and smiled.

“Carefree…” she said quietly. She reached up with her hoof and tousled my mane. It seemed to take her an extraordinary amount of effort. “My strong stallion…”

“Momma… hang on…” I grunted as we were lifted painfully slowly. We slipped down the chain several links and I felt my shackled hind leg tugged upward into a painful contortion. She closed her eyes, a smile on her face.

“I love you, Carefree,” she said. I looked down at her, tears in my eyes as her eyes opened again. “Be strong. Be brave. I… I can’t protec-“ she muttered softly, incoherently. She stared off at something I couldn’t see, her eyes unfocused. “Honey… I’m so proud… of our son…” She said as she squeezed her forelegs between us.

“Noo… please…” I grunted through clenched teeth, feeling my grip on both her and the chain slipping. “Don’t!” My mother’s smile never faltered. It remained steadfast as she pushed free of my grip. It stayed true as she gave me one last look and plummeted into the darkness below. I opened my mouth to scream and fell after her, reaching out with my legs. The shackle bit hard into my leg as the chain ran out of slack and I dangled from it like meat on a hook. Blood and tears dripped past me as I stared into the void after her.

I was lifted from the pit slowly, staring back into it the entire time. The unicorn stallion raised me up in front of his face. I hung upside down by my leg, sobbing and he just stared back at me. I blinked at him with tear-filled eyes and sniffled. He looked… pained.

“Get used to it kid,” he said. “Your life’s about to get much worse.” I was flipped right-side up and deposited on my hooves as he turned and we slowly worked our way outside.

Outside the store, the caravan was in shambles. The carts were ablaze, casting a hellish orange glow across everything. I was escorted to a series of carts that looked like little more than cages on wheels. The cage door open and the stallion telekinetically pushed me in. I was one of three foals that they’d rounded up, and I didn’t dare think of what had happened to the missing ones. The others with me I didn’t know, but I’d seen them around the caravan camp on more than one occasion. The three of us huddled together in the far corner of the wagon as the slavers dragged in the adults, chains looped around their necks. Armed guards screamed at them, ordering them into a cage much like ours, only bigger. There were far fewer of them than were this morning.

My muzzle stung and if I looked at it cross-eyed I could see the bloody gash that had been torn in it by Thrash’s hoof. Likewise my hind leg throbbed where the shackle had peeled back the skin. Dirty straw from the floor of the wagon clung to the wound. I sniffled and looked at the other two. A sand-colored filly with a bright red mane, not much younger than me, stared down at her hooves. The green colt was a bit older, and quietly stared between the bars at where the slavers were chaining up the surviving adults and loading them into a separate wagon.

“Why are they doing this…” he muttered quietly.

The filly sniffled and wiped tears from her eyes. I scooted closer and nuzzled at her gently. “Did you lose your momma too?” I asked softly.

She sniffed hard and shook her head. “No. M-my daddy,” she said as tears flowed unabated. She looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. “Those b-bad ponies sh-shot him.”

“They shot a lot of ponies…” the colt said quietly as he turned to face us and moved closer. “My names Bucket.”

“Jerrycan.” The filly sniffled. “My daddy called me Jerry.” They both looked at me expectantly and I glanced down at the shackle around my bloodied ankle.

“I’m… Free,” I said absently. I looked up and saw both foals giving me a strange look. I set my hoof down and deliberately kept my gaze away from the raw red wound it barely concealed. “My name is Free,” I repeated.

“W-where are they taking us?” Jerry asked as she rubbed her forelegs together nervously.

Bucket leaned against the bars and stared at the slavers. “No place good.” He said as the cart jerked suddenly and we started moving. I looked towards the front of the cart at the battered mare harnessed to it. Jagged scars criss-crossed her hide, and her distant gaze focused on nothing. I limped to the front of the cart and peered at her.

“Where are we going?” I asked her. She didn’t look back at me, but her head and ears drooped lower. My eyes narrowed and I leaned forward.

“Hey! Where are w-” I started to say louder. A wooden bat smacked hard against the cage and I stumbled back onto my rump, my question cut off.

“Shut up in there!” a slaver barked. He pointed the bat at the mare pulling the cart and then gestured down the road. “Hurry up! Fortune’s waiting!” The mare nodded quickly and struggled to pull the cart faster. The slaver glared daggers at us as he trotted over to the ponies pulling the adults cart and started spitting harsh words at them

“This is horrible…” Jerry muttered quietly as she curled up. I sat next to her and lightly stroked her mane as I stared out at the passing wasteland. Bucket stared out the back of the cart, watching as the remains of the caravan shrank from view.

“It… it’ll be okay… I promise…” I muttered. But I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince, Jerry or myself. There was a rattling noise from above us. The three of us glanced up at a small pipe with several holes haphazardly punched in it rattled against the cage.

“What’s-“ Bucket began, before a faint green mist sprayed from the pipe, dousing us. Bucket’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a limp mess, followed quickly by Jerry. I stumbled to the side of the cart and looked blearily at the mare pulling the cart before I too fell into darkness.

“Wake up!”

I jerked awake suddenly and lifted my head. Jerry squeaked and hid behind me as best she could. Where were we? When had I fallen asleep? How long had I been asleep? Nothing looked familiar. Everything had a wet sheen to it, and the ground was a soupy morass of brown-orange mud leading to ancient pavement. A stocky yellow mare in metal armor opened the cage and reached a dirty hoof in at us. One by one she scooped us out and dumped us unceremoniously onto the ground, Bucket being the only one with enough sense to land on his hooves.

“Follow the line and keep your damn mouths shut!” she barked as she jabbed her hoof into Jerry’s flank when she didn’t immediately move. Jerry scurried to my side and looked around nervously as we followed a faded yellow line that had been hastily painted on the cracked pavement.

I paused in my march to wave a hoof at the flies buzzing about me. Everything here was destroyed, not that that was unusual for the Wasteland. But here there was a bit more rust and mold than seemed abundant everywhere else. Strange glowing lichen crept its way across fallen bricks and up the supports for the ragged fencing the slavers had set up. And everything smelled… wet… and gross. It smelled like that time Momma and I had found a rotting molerat. There hadn’t even been any useable meat left.

The road we followed was flanked on either side by ramshackle fortifications constructed from rusted metal and whatever else was handy. Armed ponies stared down at us, the attitudes a mixture of boredom and uncomfortable looking excitement. A stallion shadowed us from behind a corroded fence. His hide was a mess of sores and open wounds that wept sickly fluids. He threw himself against the fence, drawing a scream from the three of us.

“Fresh meat!” the filthy stallion said, saliva dripping from his slack jaws as he scraped his hooves against the fence. Jerry winced and huddled closer. Bucket stared in wide eyed terror. The stallion gnawed at the fence, his pin-prick eyes locked on us. “So… so very hungry…” he gibbered.

“I-It’s okay,” I said quietly. “Just k-keep moving.” The stallion followed, batting at the fence like it would suddenly stop barring his path. I couldn’t help but notice that his cutie mark was a bone broken in two. The road ended at a rusting metal gate. Standing before it was the brown unicorn stallion from the other night. He looked at the three of us and sighed and then glanced at the buck on the other side of the fence.

“Leg Cracker!” he barked. The filthy buck flinched and looked at him, his breathing coming in short gasps. “What in the Goddesses’ names are you doin’?!” Cracker glanced at us and then back at the unicorn.

“H-hungry… just a little bite… Fortune won’t have to know!” he said quickly.

“Get your mangy hide back to the mine! ‘Less you want me tellin’ Zero you ain’t doin’ your task again!” he said, pointing back the way the stallion had come. Cracker’s eyes widened and he turned and galloped off, disappeared past the slaver. The unicorn stared after him and then shook his head. “Damned raider scum…” he muttered, his voice trailing off. He looked down at us with an appraising eye and cleared his throat.

“Name’s Whips. Follow me,” he said, as he turned towards the gate. It ratcheted open, clanking and screeching as its rusty parts protested. He stepped through and we hesitantly followed. “C’mon. You don’t want to lag behind,” he urged.

“Where are we?” I asked as I gingerly stepped over the threshold. Jerry huddle close with Bucket, stumbling just a little behind.

“We call it The Dig. It’s an open pit mine just on the border of the Badlands that we’re reopening,” he said. He didn’t look back at us as he continued. “You’re now the property of Fortune. He is your master. You will refer to him as such.”

We were led through a warren of rusting fences criss-crossed with gantries and armed watchponies. Several of them watched us closely and muttered to one another as we passed beneath them. I waved off the flies again as we passed by.

“W-what are they whispering about?” Bucket asked.

“Me,” Whips said matter-of-factly. “Until you’ve matured, you’ll be working in the fields. You’ll be responsible for the food we all eat. Once you’re eighteen, you’ll be put to work either scavenging, or mining.”

“Why are they whispering about you?” Jerry squeaked.

Whips stopped and took a slow, deep breath before turning to glance at us sidelong. “I don’t usually bring in foals,” he said quietly. “I used to leave that for the slavers like Thrash. The kind of ponies who either don’t care anymore, or never did to begin with,” he added, casting a glance at me. “Now focus. You need to remember all of this. We punish the ponies that don’t learn.”

Whips continued on as he led us out of the fenced in area into The Dig proper. It was a massive rent in the ground. It looked as though one of the Goddesses had lashed out at the earth in anger and tore a great wound in its hide. Layered steps tapered downwards towards the flooded bottom, dotted with more ponies than I’d ever seen in one place. Hundreds of them dug, filling the air with a cacophony of machine noises.

“We’ve dug deep enough that the soil we uncover is no longer irradiated. We haul it up and build up the farmland with it,” Whips said as he ushered us past a team of ponies pulling a rusting metal cart loaded with speckled gray stone. Three armed guards followed closely, bellowing commands and brandishing weapons as they passed. “The ore’s what we’re really after.” He glanced down at me and reached out a hoof. He tilted my muzzle down and looked at my face. “Damn. C’mon. I need to get you to the doc or he’ll have my hide.”

I looked up at him and then down at my muzzle. It was a mottled mess of congealed blood and sickly green flesh where Thrash had hit me. I felt my stomach turn as a fly landed on the wound and shook my head vigorously.

“Right… doctor…” I murmured, trying not to think about the rotting wound.

“Hmmm… yes...” the ‘doctor’ said to itself as he, or rather it, gently prodded at my face. It was some kind of metal ball that floated around on an engine of some kind. Three arms extended off that ball, each ending in things you wouldn’t normally want anywhere near your face. And three eyes, or cameras, whirred and clicked as they examined me. The robot spun and faced Whips, its articulated arms curling.

“Mister Whips. What have I told you about allowing infection to set in?” it asked in a distinctly foreign accent. Whips let out a sigh and looked away.

“I brought him as soon as I saw the infection, Doc,” he said. “They were just brought in. It must’ve started on the trip over.” The robot turned and hovered over to a locking cabinet and retrieved a syringe and a glass bottle of purple liquid from it.

“I may have been sworn to Master Fortune,” it started as it returned and, with surprising gentleness, gripped my muzzle, “But that doesn’t mean I approve of you ruffians and your work. If you expect me to patch up all your bullet holes and stab wounds, I WILL offer the same care to the ponies you enslave.” The syringe was poked into my tender wound and I winced before a soothing numbness took over in its place.

“I know, Doc. That’s why I brought him h-” Whips said, but Doc was having none of it.

“Yes, yes. Now I need you to wait outside with the other new arrivals, Mister Whips. I need to work in peace,” the bot said as it pointed a multi-jointed metal limb at the door. Whips nodded and saw himself out ushering Bucket and Jerry back to the waiting room before pulling the door shut with his magic. The robot let out a sigh, or the closest approximation to one it could manage.

“Who would’ve ever thought that this would be my lot in life,” It said as it raised one of its arms to the wound. Small scissors extended and gingerly snipped and removed the gangrenous flesh with deceptive ease. Blood began to dribble from the cut edges. When the discolored patch was removed, a second arm raised the glass bottle and tipped its purple contents onto my muzzle. The bleeding halted and the flesh began to knit itself back together. “I’m sorry, young one. But this went too long without treatment. You will bear that scar for the remainder of your days. Is there any discomfort?”

I stared at the wound cross-eyed as it slowly returned to a healthy pinkish color and let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“N-no. It doesn’t hurt,” I muttered.

“Excellent! Now, I’m going to give you a quick examination. It’s all part of the intake process,” Doc said as he flew in a slow circle around me. “Let’s see. Correct me if I get any of this wrong. Earth pony. Male. Roughly nine years old. Gray fur. Brown mane. What is your name?”

“C- Free. My name is Free,” I said, looking away. I felt numb. Not just in my muzzle, but in general.

“Alright, Free. Is there anything else I can do to assist you?” the robot asked. I looked down at my leg and the metal cuff.

“C-can you check my leg? The shackle really hurt me when they put it on.”

One of the robot’s eyes focused on my leg.

“Oh my, of course I can,” he said. His body rotated and a limb ending in a serrated saw rose into view. “Don’t move now. Reattaching a limb is much harder than removing infected tissue,” he cautioned as the blade spun up to speed. I closed my eyes and braced myself as the spinning blade scraped against the metal cuff. The whine rose in pitch and sparks flew where the two items met.

I should’ve let it go! I thought. Now I’m gonna lose my le-

The metal cuff popped apart and clattered to the metal examination table. My eye opened a crack and when Doc lowered the saw blade I glanced down at my ankle. It was in worse condition than my muzzle had been in. Fat white maggots squirmed along the torn edges of flesh. As I stared in mute horror, the smell hit me; sickly and sweet at the same time.

“Oh dear, another infected area,” Doc said as it lifted the syringe once more. “Hold still. We need to clean this immediately.”

If this was a sign of things to come, I was already not a fan.

It took an hour for Doc to clean my leg and give Bucket and Jerry examinations as well. My leg and face no longer hurt and the cuff that had been responsible for my wound was now gone. Whips marched us out of Doc’s office as quick as he could, doing his level best to ignore the warnings the kindly robot shouted after him.

“We’re going to be late for the announcements. Hurry up,” Whips said angrily as he hurried us along. We had to run as fast as our little legs could carry us to keep from being trampled beneath his hooves.

“Wh-what announcements?” Bucket whispered. Whips ignored him as he corralled us into a large open area. High fences and rusting metal buildings circled the enclosure. There were dozens of foals of all ages. A fence separated us from the adults, of which there were far more. Guards patrolled the gantries, their weapons out and their attention focused on the amassed ponies. A large, central billboard rose above the shantytown, it's back to us. A platform jutted from the rusting metal bones of the billboard, and on it, stood a solitary pony. He looked down on us, on everypony, emotionlessly.

“Welcome to The Dig,” he said loudly, his voice prim and proper. “My name is Fortune, and you all now belong to me.”

A chorus of muttering slowly built amongst the adults while a few of the foals began to whimper and cry. Fortune raised a hoof and waited for the noise to die down. Which it did, after a few shouts from angry guards.

“Now, now. I know this is a drastic change for many of you. But rest assured that the work you do here will secure your futures,” he said as he lowered his hoof. “Here, my word is law. Break the law, and you will be punished by our resident enforcer, Zero. My law is enforced by my minders. Obey them as you would me. Do as you are told and life here can be quite tolerable. You will be safe and secure in The Dig, you will be fed, have access to clean water, and have your medical needs met by our resident doctor.” Fortune paused, letting his words sink in. After a long moment, he cleared his throat and gestured at the guards. “Minders, show everyone to their new living arrangements. Tomorrow, start assigning work details,” he said as he exited the stage. Gates rattled open and guards on the catwalks began bellowing commands.

“Move it!”

“Through the gate! Now!”

“Quit yer bellyachin’ and move!”

Whips grouped the three of us together and escorted us through at the head of the group of foals.

“This way,” he said as he led the lot of us towards a large shack. Next to it was an expansive plot of dark, rich dirt. Several older ponies looked up from their work to regard us sadly. Whips opened the door and stood aside as all of the foals marched in, quietly sniveling and whimpering.

“You’ll live here until you’re old enough for a proper work detail. Mind the elders, they’ve been here long enough to teach you all how to avoid trouble,” Whips said as he shut the door behind him. He spun around and sat down in front of it, looking suddenly older. “Look… I know this is awful. But, try to make the best of things. Keep your heads down, follow orders, and don’t break the rules. Things here can be…” he paused, unsure of how to continue. After a long moment he said. “Things can be okay.”

The foals were relatively quiet for several minutes. Then, from the back of the group one of the fillies began to cry. “I want my mommy!” she wailed. Slowly, like a sickness, the crying spread to the others until it was only Whips and I who weren’t crying. His ears fell flat against his head and he looked away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he stood and turned to leave. The door creaked open and he slipped away, shutting it behind him. I looked back at the room of crying children huddled together and then down at my bandaged leg. I wanted to cry too. I could feel the pain, both physical and emotional, gnawing at me. But then I heard my mother’s voice in my head.

Be strong. Be brave.

For her, I could weather this storm. For her, I’d find a way to be truly free.

Side Chapter - There's a Time and a Place

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Log Entry 45:
I had begun to believe this assignment a complete waste of my time. That is until I found him.
I’ve been watching him for some time, thinking he might be the one.
Attempting to learn all that I can about him.
Results are thus far inconclusive, though quite hopeful.
Despite everything that he has gone through, the beatings, the back-breaking work and the pain of losing loved ones, he has remained compassionate, brave, loyal…
Loving.
I’ve seen the way he looks at her. The faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He is good at hiding his emotions, perhaps too good. I doubt she’s ever noticed the way he feels.
She cares about him, but not the way he hopes. Where he sees her as a possible lover, she sees him only as a friend, possibly a brother.
He’s spent his years of torment and pain pining for her. She is his shining beacon of hope. Hope for a life of his own. With her. But the one for her - the object of her affection - died so many years ago. She hasn’t opened herself up to other possibilities. She likely never will. Were he to learn the truth, it would crush him.
There is another, though she is completely oblivious to her feelings. She is… well, quite honestly, terrible at expressing her emotions. Her infatuation is obvious to many of her colleagues, and she is often the butt of their jokes when she is not around. It is possible she doesn’t understand her feelings for him. She doesn’t have much experience with feelings of the heart after all.
I’m getting poetic. Back on track.
He is nearly ready.
I’ll have to keep observing and wait for the perfect time.

“Move your lazy ass, slave!” the yellow unicorn mare bellowed as she cracked her whip across my flank. My eyes slammed shut and I bit down hard on the handle of my shovel to remain silent as my flesh split apart and blood flowed from the wound.

Don’t scream… Screaming is what she wants....

“Hurry up! Or I swear to the Goddesses I’ll make you wish you were dead!” she roared as the whip drew back for another blow. I jabbed the shovel into the parched earth and moved a load of dirt to the growing pile next to me. The whip cracked again and I tensed as pain threatened to overwhelm me once more. I could feel my blood running down my side and the throbbing sting of the nerves suddenly exposed to the moist air. It took a moment before I could focus enough to jab the shovel into the ground again. The mare snarled and trotted forward to stand beside me.

“Damn you,” she hissed through grit teeth. “You worthless piece of shit. I’ll break you of that defiance yet. You just fucking wait.” With that she spun and trotted angrily away. “You! Get your ass in gear!” she roared at somepony behind me. I heard her whip crack followed quickly by a pained screaming. When I was sure she was suitably distracted with her new target, I lowered myself to my knees and let out the deep breath I’d been holding.

“Hey,” a gruff voice called. “Yer Free, ain’t’cha?”

I looked up. A stallion stood over the hole I’d been digging. A mean looking rifle was rigged to his harness and a gnarled scar that marred the right side of his face receded to be hidden by a distinctly ratty cap. I slowly pushed myself back to my hooves and lowered my head.

“S-sorry. I’ll get back to work,” I said.

The stallion rolled his eyes and circled the shallow hole, staring down at me as I bit the shovel and started digging once more. I felt his eyes fall over the deep gashes in my back and heard as he sucked on his teeth. “Lash do that?” he asked. I said nothing and continued to move dirt from the hole to the pile. The stallion smirked and sat down. He doffed his filthy cap and ran a hoof through his patchy mane before replacing it. “It’s fine. Ya don’t need to say nothin’,” the stallion said as he deftly retrieved a rolled smoke from his breast pocket. “But ya should know ya don’t have ta keep diggin’. She just wanted an excuse ta whip ya.” This time, I hesitated. That did sound like something Lash would do. She wasn’t the embodiment of the element of kindness after all. I glanced around nervous and the stallion chuckled and waved me down. “S’ fine. Take a minute to compose yerself,” he said. “I’ve seen ponies blackout from less than what ya got goin’ on across your back.” I stabbed the shovel into the dirt and lowered myself back down as I allowed myself to react to the pain radiating across my back.

“Th-thanks,” I said through gritted teeth. After a moment I glanced up at the stallion. “I… I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Yeah. ‘Fraid I’m new,” he responded laconically. “But you. Heh, they tell alla us ‘bout you.”

My ears perked up.

“Th-they do?” I asked. The stallion nodded.

“Yeah. Nothin’ good though,” he said with a shrug. My ears fell and I looked down.

“It’s my name. Isn’t it,” I muttered. The stallion’s smile widened and he nodded.

“Oh yeah. It’s their favorite runnin’ joke. Never would’a figgered slavers fer fans of irony,” he said as she scratched a hoof across his chin. “Or fer knowin’ what irony is fer that matter…” He glanced down at me and took a moment to thoroughly stare at the leaking gashes in my hide.

“Glad I’m the...” I started, but a pained grunt choked off my sentence. It took a long moment to regain my composure. “...l-life of the party…”

“Uhh… ya need a hoof gettin’ ta that robot to take care of that?” he asked. I shook my head and shakily stood up.

“C-can’t. If I do… sh-she whips the others worse…” I muttered. I could practically feel his eyes tracing along the jagged curves of pink flesh that peeked out of my grey coat.

“I’m guessing she does this to ya a lot,” he muttered.

“It’s as you said,” I said quietly, “I’m the f-favorite joke here.” I seized the shovel in my teeth and jabbed it into the dirt before stamping a hoof down on the blade to drive it in further. I did my best not to pay any mind to the pain that coursed through me with each movement I made. The stallion watched for a moment before lowering his head. He retrieved a match with the unoccupied portion of his mouth. With a deftness that most unicorns would be jealous of he struck it on his hoof and then angled it into his cigarette until it took flame, took a few puffs and then spat out the match just before it singed him.

“Ha! Didja see that?!” he shouted excitedly. “Finally did that without burnin’ myself or spitting out the cigarette!” he said proudly as he puffed. If I had rolled my eyes any harder they’d surely have twisted themselves free of my skull.

“Yes. Very impressive,” I droned. If the stallion noticed, he said nothing as he puffed on his cigarette. He was quiet for several long minutes as I painfully dug the pointless hole deeper.

“So,” he said, breaking the moment of quiet. “‘Bout that mare friend o’ yours?” I jabbed the shovel into the dirt and then looked at him.

“Lash isn’t a friend!” I spat. The stallion chuckled and shook his head.

“Lash ain’t no one’s friend. Nah, I was talkin’ ‘bout that other mare. The one you was brought in wit.” The stallion rubbed a hoof against his chin as he thought. “Wha’s her name? Ya know, the one wit’ the red mane.”

Despite myself I smiled.

“Jerry,” I said.

“Ya! Tha’s her! I have a question fer ya ‘bout her,” he said.

“Can’t really stop you,” I muttered as I eyed the shovel carefully. If I swung it right I could stave in his skull or cut his throat, at the very least it could crush his windpipe. Then I could bury him in this worthless hole I’d been made to dig. He wouldn’t be the first slaver to approach me about Jerry, but I’d be damned if I let anything happen to her.

“Whoa… easy there, fella.” the stallion said as he held up his hooves. “I didn’t have any untoward plans. Just an honest question.”

I took a slow, deep breath. I must have given him some clue. Normally I was so good at hiding my emotions. Maybe I was too drained from my injuries to bother with hiding it.

“What’s your question?” I snapped, growing weary of his presence. He smiled and turned his head to look at me sidelong.

“Why ain’t ya told her?” he asked.

“Told her what?” I narrowed my eyes and looked at the slaver closely.

“How ya feel ‘bout her,” he said. My jaw tensed and I felt my stomach begin to tie itself into knots as he continued, “I’ve seen the way ya look at’er. Why ain’t ya told her how ya feel?”

“Really?” I asked, dumbfounded, “Now isn’t exactly a good time.” I said, gesturing with a hoof at our surroundings. All around us ponies labored, sweated and screamed. The pony Lash had gone on to torment after I proved to be too stubborn now lay curled up in the dirt, sobbing and bleeding from a half dozen gashes across her hide while Lash barked at her to get back to work. The slaves closest to her deliberately looked away and continued to work despite her screams for forgiveness and help. I took a step closer to the slaver and spoke in hushed tones. “This place doesn’t breed love or happiness, or anything good. It destroys it. When we’re out of here, and we WILL get out, then I will tell her. But not before. Not here…”

The stallion regarded me coolly. It took me a full minute to realize I had told a slaver I planned on escaping.

Shit… now I’ll definitely have to kill him…

Slowly a smile spread across his face. My eyebrow arched.

Okay… not the reaction I was expecting...

“Well alright,” he said. He stood with a grunt and tipped his hat to me. “See ya ‘round, Free. Best o’ luck with yer plans. I’ll be rootin’ fer ya.”

I watched him go, unsure as to whether he was playing me. Was he heading off to turn me in to Zero? Maybe he was just crazy. Some of the other slavers definitely were.

I bit down on the shovel and resumed my pointless task as I tried to figure out what to make of the strange stallion. Was he going to rat me out? Was he genuinely friendly? Was I setting myself up for something? My mind mulled over the possibilities until the evening whistle sounded and tore me from my reverie. The hole had swollen to twice its original size as I had blindly dug, too distracted by my own thoughts to notice. Thankfully the pain had also ebbed.

“Free?” a soft voice called. I glanced up and shielded my eyes from the work lamps that hung from the guard gantries. “Come on ya big lug, it's time to let the evening crew work.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth and I spat out the shovel.

“Yeah… okay Jerry.”

“Aw jeeze, Free…” she muttered as I climbed out of the hole. “Lash again?”

I glanced back at the dirt caked wounds on my flank and sighed.

“What can I say? She lives up to her name.” I responded. “Never mind that. Let’s head back before the rations are handed out. I need something to eat.” I strode towards the road now bustling with the slaves as they trudged back up the corkscrew road. Jerry followed, chastising me for taking Lash’s punishment. I just offered a faint smile and enjoyed her company.

This was definitely not the place to tell her. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy one of the few good things here.

Log Entry 45 Cont’d:
Despite official protocol I made direct contact with my subject.
It was… enlightening, to say the least.
His emotions are tightly bottled, more so than any of the others around here.
And where the others are all various expressions of fear, hatred and sorrow; His are decidedly more… stoic… and dare-I-say hopeful.
There is a drive in him that has been lost to many of the others, if it was even there to begin with.
I won’t risk further contact for now. I need to maintain my cover. But… today’s encounter was promising.
S.I.O. M

Chapter 1: Patience and Time

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“My daddy always said, good things come to those who wait… Well, I’m through waiting, Free. Time to go out there and find those good things. They’re long overdue.” – Jerrycan

~15 Years Later~

A grimy mirror hung loosely from the corrugated metal wall just inside the door of the medical shack. The once brilliant surface bore black spots of unknown origin and scratches from any number of occurrences it had witnessed in its time affixed to this wall. A gray stallion stared back from its reflective surface. A jagged scar crossed along his muzzle before blending with his coat and disappearing under his unruly brown mane.

“Do you even remember what it was like?” I asked quietly. Hard green eyes stared back at me, offering no answer. They never did. I sighed and turned from the mirror and pushed my hoof against the ward door.

“Doc? Do you have a second?” I asked as I stepped into the old robot’s exam room. Doc was currently seeing to a patient who was sleeping quietly on a dirty cot, a whirring mechanical eye on the end of a stalk turned and focused on me.

“Ah, young master Free,” the robot said as it turned and floated over to me. “I wish I could say it has been a long time since I have seen you. Sad to say that you are my ‘best customer’ as it were,” he continued as he gestured to the free exam table with one of its multi-jointed limbs. The old robot’s engine coughed and it dipped notably towards the floor before the engine coughed again, corrected itself and he resumed hovering. The years had not been kind to… well… to anyone here at The Dig, Doc included. His chassis was dented and scuffed from patients and guards alike and one of its three eyes had been rendered into so much slag. Likewise the clinic had seen better days. The sheet metal walls had begun to rust; the once pristine floor was showing a distinctive burn path from Doc’s engine and various spilled fluids been baked in by that same engine before he’d had a chance to properly clean them.

“Sorry, Doc. The Minders take a little too much pleasure in reminding me that my name doesn’t reflect my status,” I said as I walked over and climbed onto the table. “Particularly Lash,” I muttered. It was odd how small the exam table seemed now. It seemed like it was just yesterday that I was a foal; scared, freshly enslaved and everything appeared to tower over me, looming like a prowling beast, waiting for the perfect chance to strike.

“Yes, Miss Lash does not share her father’s calm demeanor,” the robot said as its optics clicked and focused on a raw red gash that ran the length of my back. “And judging by the look of this wound, she is up to her old habits again,” the robot added as its mechanical limbs expertly examined the wound.

“What can I say?” I winced as his graspers poked into the laceration, carefully removed the fouled flesh, and set it aside for disposal. “She knows I’d rather it be me than anyone else.”

“I have spoken to Master Fortune about her… less-than-savory treatment of the ponies under my care. I’m afraid that as long as everything meets his grand plan, it matters little to him these days,” Doc replied sadly. “There, the necrotic tissue has been removed. Once again, I must remind you to seek my assistance immediately when you’ve been whipped, master Free. Miss Lash cannot stop you from seeking treatment,” he said as he twisted and floated away towards the locked cabinet.

“Save the potions, Doc,” I called as one of the many jointed limbs reached for the lock. “Someone might need them today, and they don’t grow on trees. And you’re right. She can’t stop me, but she can make somepony’s life miserable as punishment for me disobeying her.”

A single eye stalk turned and looked me up and down and Doc’s graspers closed on a needle and thread sitting on the counter as he turned his remaining eyes to face me.

“As you wish, Master Free. Of course, you know my feelings on the matter,” he said as he threaded the needle in one quick motion. Cold graspers pinched the raw gash closed and a second arm expertly plunged the needle through my hide and began to stitch the wound closed. I patiently sat, trying to ignore the feeling of a needle and thread pushing through my skin repeatedly, all while gritting my teeth. Getting stitched up was a sensation I could never quite get used to, despite how often it has occurred in the last decade.

“What’s one more scar?” I muttered.

Doc’s optics scanned across my back and flanks. Vivid pink scars stood out all across my gray hide.

“Yes. You are quite the collector, Master Free,” Doc replied dryly as he snipped the thread and checked the sutures.

“Hey,” I said with a smirk as I stepped down from the exam table that I once had to be lifted onto. “Stallion’s got to have a hobby.”

“I do wish yours wasn’t quite so self-destructive,” he said as he escorted me to the door.

“Thanks again, Doc,” I said as the old robot stopped at the entry and offered a wave of one of his limbs.

“Do be careful out there, Master Free. Equestria isn’t what she used to be,” he said as he turned and returned to his other patient.

I opened the door and stepped out into the cool morning air. The thick gray clouds above rumbled deeply, threatening to pour rain on us for the third time this week. The guard by the door glared at me and gestured with the barrel of his rifle back towards the mine. “Lash says you’re on wagon duty. Get down to the mine and get workin’!” he said, as he spat a fat glob of phlegm onto the ground. I responded with a nod and made my way along the crumbling road that led down into The Dig.

The once large pit was now a massive pony-made rent in the very fabric of Equestria. Over the years, as The Dig became deeper, an inclined road was cut from the sheer cliff and twisted like a corkscrew along the outer wall, all the way down to where the current digging was taking place. Teams of ponies pulled rusting metal wagons loaded with dirt and rocks up the winding incline with groups of slavers providing motivation with whips and the butts of rifles. I trotted past one such wagon that had been made from a rusted out pre-war wagon with the top cut off. Two Minders were barking ferociously at the slaves strapped to the cart. Apparently they weren’t working hard enough. I winced at the sound of a particularly loud crack followed by something heavy hitting the ground. I glanced back and saw an orange maned slaver standing over a prone pastel blue mare, blood leaking from her head.

“Dammit Chains! That’s the third one this week!” one of the other guards shouted. Chains rolled his eyes and nudged the mare with a hoof casually.

“Ain’t my fault the slaves is weak! Should get after the Takers for pickin’ poor stock! You!” he barked, pointing a hoof at one of the other slaves hooked to the wagon. The puce stallion winced, expecting a blow that didn’t come. “Unhook and take that fool up to the Doc, pronto!” The stallion nodded, quickly undid his straps and hurriedly slithered under the mare and lifted her before galloping up the ramp as fast as he could. I turned away and shook my head. I’d seen many injuries during my stay. The mare most likely wouldn’t last the night.

Just another day…

As I drew nearer, the noise reached up from the open mine to greet me. Ponies shouting back and forth and the sounds of countless picks and shovels as the slaves worked towards the same unknown goal they always had. Fortune’s will. Rusting gantries criss-crossed over the mine circling a central tower and patrolled by Minders. Others walked the mine itself, heavy steel armor protecting them from the workers as they barked orders and delivered more rifle butt motivation.

“There’s my favorite lil’ slave!” a rasping voice called out across the cacophony. I froze, a shiver running up my spine as a yellow unicorn mare in rusting armor plates trotted over with a smile creasing her features. Her green mane was twisted up into a harsh spiked mohawk that would’ve been more at home on some of the raiders in the camp and a whip was loosely coiled across one shoulder. She was in a good mood. That was never a good sign for anypony within her line of sight.

“Lash…” I said flatly as the mare stopped in front of me. She jabbed a metal clad hoof into my chest and her smile turned decidedly wicked.

“Did I say speak!?” she hissed as she leaned in closer, her smile melting into a snarl. I looked down at her and then shook my head. Her smile returned and she patted my chest with her hoof. “Good boy. C’mon. I’ve got your cart all ready to go,” she said as she spun around and ambled towards the yawning opening in the side of the pit. The mine stank of sweat, blood and burning oil from the guttering lanterns hung haphazardly from railroad spikes driven into the hewn stone walls. Shadows stretched and danced in the wan flickering light as the ponies hacked at the stone with rusting tools. In the middle of the tunnel stood a rickety wooden cart, loaded past the brim with stone and dirt. Lash stopped next to it and patted it lovingly.

“Gee, since you took so much time seeing that old rust bucket, I seemed to have overfilled it a little,” she purred. “Oh well. You’re a big strong stallion. You can handle it, can’t ya?”

“Yes,” I responded flatly. Not that I really had a choice in the matter. I was Lash’s pet project. The slave she tried hardest to break. And for eight years, she’d failed. Each day I hoped she would grow tired of the effort and move on, but so far I hadn’t been so lucky. The best I could hope for was another pony pulling her attention off me briefly and allowing my body time to recover.

I came up along the cart’s side and lowered my head to get into the harness. Lash watched intently as I shrugged my shoulders until the harness rested properly and then leaned forward. The lines pulled taut, my hooves scraped against the floor and with the whining protest of a rusting axle, the cart began to roll forward. Lash’s face fell slightly and she moved around to stand in front of me.

“Well if you can move it then you can move it faster!” she hissed, her magic enveloping her whip as I strained against the harness. The rough wooden collar around my neck creaked as the overloaded cart struggled along the uneven ground. It rolled forward slowly and then stopped suddenly as the cart became caught on something. I leaned forward, all my weight against the collar as I tried to get the cart to budge. But it stubbornly refused to comply. Lash’s eyes narrowed and she took a step back. The whip slithered off her shoulder like a snake, the magic receding to only envelope the grip as anger burned in her eyes.

“C’mon! Faster!” she barked. The whip cracked, the tip missing my face by mere inches. I flinched as she drew back the whip a second time, my ears still ringing from the first. I took a step back and threw myself into the harness, trying to jerk the cart over whatever was stopping it. The cart rocked forward, and then rolled back to its previous spot.

“Faster dammit! Or so help me I will flay you to the bone!” Lash shrieked as she lifted the whip again.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Lash spun around, lowering her whip and tucking it behind her back in one swift motion. A skill she’d honed from a lifetime of being caught in the act.

“N-nothing!” She answered hurriedly, her cheeks burning red, “Just getting this stupid slave moving!” An orange glow wrapped over Lash’s whip and yanked it away. An older stallion stepped closer as the whip coiled tightly in the air. He glared down at her from tired eyes and firmly deposited the coiled whip around her neck.

“Get topside. You’re guarding Fortune’s office for the rest of the day,” he said, stepping past her. Lash stood in stunned silence for a long moment before spinning around and scrambled in front of him, placing herself between him and me.

“Guard duty? But I was jus-”

The stallion stopped and glared at Lash, who shrank away from his withering gaze. He jabbed a hoof over her shoulder and leaned in close.

“Guard duty. Now.”

Lash opened her mouth to argue and then snapped it shut again. She let out an inarticulate shriek of impotent rage and then trotted off, grumbling under her breath. The old stallion sighed and then turned towards me. I let out the breath I’d been holding and then relaxed.

“Free,” the old stallion said.

“Whips,” I muttered in acknowledgement. He looked over the cart and, after a moment, bent down. He reached a hoof under it and scraped a large stone out of the way and then looked at a nearby group of slaves.

“You two,” he called. Two of the slaves looked up. He pointed his hoof at them and then at the cart. “Help get this cart moving.” The two ponies set down their tools and moved to the back of the cart as the old stallion moved to stand behind them. The ponies pressed their shoulders against the back of the cart, their hooves scrambling for purchase. I could feel the leads slacken and took a step forward to pull them tight again. The cart slowly rolled forward and Whips waved the other slaves off when he was sure I had it.

“Thank you both. You can return to your other tasks,” he said to them. They nodded their heads and hurried back to their tools as Whips turned and escorted me.

“Lash is a little more… restrained than normal…” I muttered as I pulled the laden cart. Whips nodded.

“I had another discussion with her. It should’ve kept her in check for at least a few more days… I swear, I don’t know what I’m gonna do with that girl,” he rasped. I glanced at the old stallion. The years had not been kind to him. He bore just as many scars as I did, though his were more of the invisible sort. There was a haunted look in his eyes that spoke volumes. I recognized that look; it was shared by nearly all the slaves.

“Thanks Whips,” I said. He glanced at me and smiled. A small gesture, but one that I felt meant more to him than he let on. Over the years I had developed a grudging respect for the stallion. He’d always kept a calm head and looked out for the slaves while still maintaining Fortune’s interests. Not that I cared much about the latter.

“No problem, son,” he muttered as he looked away, “Just gotta figure out a way to reign in that girl.” He glanced up the roadway where he spied Lash trotting up to Fortune’s office. His smile fell and he sighed. “Wish I knew where I went wrong…”

I looked at Whips and saw the look of defeat that fell across his face. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his daughter’s behavior was likely due to his career choice. Despite everything, he wasn’t a bad pony. He was fair, only doled out punishment where it was needed, and more than once had spoken up for the ponies under his watch. Lash was the opposite. Snide, cruel, and quick to splay open a pony’s backside without much provocation or simply to hear them scream. In this hell, Whips and Doc were the only people I’d count as ‘good’.

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be much help in the parenting department,” I said as the cart reached the inclining road. Suddenly talking was off the table for me as all my focus was on not sliding backwards into the pit. My pace slowed drastically and Whips slowed to remain by my side.

“I know, son. I just value the input of somepony so… honest,” he said quietly as he walked beside me. “I’ve valued your input in particular since you were a young colt. You and Jerry are the only honest souls left here...”

You mean since Bucket…

Perhaps sensing what I was going to say, Whips coughed and continued. “Anyway, I’ll keep Lash on guard duty for the rest of today. That should make all your lives a little easier. For now. But by this time tomorrow, I’m sure Fortune will be sick and tired of the swearing outside his office, and you will need to be anywhere but in her line of sight for a couple days.”

Like it’s so simple. Maybe I’ll just pop on down to the local town and see what’s happ-

“Your friend’s scavenging team is back,”

Jerry is back? I thought. I wasn’t expecting her so soon.

“I’ll have a word with Bruiser, call in a favor, and see if you can’t join them when they leave tomorrow. That’ll get you out of The Dig for a few days,” Whips added. That caught me by surprise and I stopped in my tracks, my muscles straining as the cart threatened to pull me back down the road.

“What’s the catch, Whips?”

The old stallion continued his stroll.

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“No. You can’t pull that crap with me,” I said. Keeping my voice low was almost as taxing as pulling the cart. “I’ve asked for over a decade to be on a scavenging team. You’ve always turned me down. What’s changed this time?”

Whips stopped. He turned his head, the brim of his old hat obscuring his eyes.

“They need a strong pony. You’re the strongest I got,” he said flatly. “Hell, you’re the strongest in The Dig.” He nodded his head at the cart I was harnessed to. “Case in point. That’s easily a four pony cart. And there you are, lugging it around like it ain’t no thing.”

I looked over my shoulder at the cart full of stones and dirt and then back at Whips. He looked at me coolly, his face as expressionless as could be. I rolled my eyes and started forward, the cart slowly rolling along behind me.

“Fine. I’ll report to Bruiser in the morning. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take this cart to processing.”

There was poorly masked frustration in my voice, but if it bothered Whips he didn’t let it show. He sidestepped out of my way and watched me pass before trotting back down towards the mine.

Lugging the cart gave me time to think. I didn’t exactly trust the circumstances, but this was an opportunity. I’d been seeing less of Jerry recently as the salvage teams are being forced further and further from The Dig. I guess we’ve picked the nearby ruins clean and are spreading out. Jerry was always assigned to a salvage team, ever since her special talent made itself known. The mare could find fuel blindfolded and with her legs bound. She’s probably the sole reason the generators of The Dig still ran.

A static screech snapped me from my reverie and I lifted my head. It came from the tower that rose from the center of The Dig. Rusting metal struts, steel cables, and rickety walkways supported its flimsy frame from all sides. Most of the guards steered clear of the shack atop the tower, and with good reason. Speakers hung loosely from the support cables and soon the static was replaced with pained screaming that echoed all across The Dig.

“P-please! Stop!” The speakers screamed. I heard hooves falling on a wooden floor followed by a microphone being moved.

“It will stop only when you admit your folly,” a deep voice said calmly. More screaming cut through me and I looked away from the tower and continued my task, doing my best to shut out the sounds of torture. I focused on the distant rumble of thunder, on the sound of dirt beneath my hooves, or the protesting squeak of the rusting cart axle. Nothing really worked.

“Goddesses stop! I didn’t do anything, Zero! I swear!”

“Were I a unicorn, this would be far easier. I would simply rip the knowledge from your empty head and see to the next rule breaker. But, alas, it is not to be. I must use a far more… visceral knowledge to pry the information I require out. Oh well, let your screams serve as a warning to the others while I find the truth. Aut viam inveniam aut faciam*.”

“No! PLEASE NO!” The stallion screamed. His pained shrieks echoed throughout The Dig, dispelling any budding ideas for dissidence. His agony dragged on for several long minutes before he fell silent. I hoped it was over, but experience had taught me otherwise. Soon the screaming picked up again as Zero’s victim regained consciousness. I was at the top of the road before the speakers quieted. I stopped, sucking in deep breaths as I took a moment to rest my weary legs from the long haul. The speakers crackled as the microphone was jostled.

“Abiit nemine salutato*. Let this pony’s suffering remind all of you of your place at Fortune’s hooves,” Zero announced calmly before there was a click, and the speakers turned off. I glanced towards the tower and shut my eyes.

“Rest now. You’re free…” I whispered.

“Hey!”

My eyes opened and I glanced towards an angry looking grey unicorn levitating a rifle in her blue magic.

“Stop loafing about! Get that cart to processing!” She barked, gesturing to a long line of carts waiting to offload their contents. I nodded and trotted over to get in line. Zero’s broadcast for today was just another reason to be glad for tomorrow. Now that I was on level ground I could allow my mind to drift into the realm of possibility.

This would be my first time outside The Dig since I was first hauled in. This would be my first and possibly last chance to escape. And since I would be on Jerry’s team, I could bring her with me. We could be free of this place and its horrors. The thought of escaping left me both nervous and excited. Was there a word for that? Let’s say we did escape. What awaits outside The Dig? We were both children when we were enslaved. How had the wasteland changed? I was conditioned for a life of hard labor; at least Jerry has been outside the walls and knows how to survive the wasteland. Would I be a hindrance? Would I drag her down?

I shook my head as I moved forward in the line, forcing the thoughts to recede. I can’t think like that. I’ve got to focus on the here and now. Doc once told me that life is a series of short quests, not one long one. And that I need to focus on the problem right in front of me before looking at the ones in the distance. I rolled thoughts and plans around in my head as I moved along in the line until I was at the front. Four slaves rushed forward, unhooked me and hastily pulled the cart away under the watchful gaze of three Minders. They wasted no time in pointing me back down towards the mine, a fresh cart strapped in place. By the time I reached the bottom level of The Dig, a smirk had wormed its way onto my face. I had a plan.

There was a loud mechanical grinding as generators kicked on all around The Dig. Aging lamps flickered into life and bathed everything in a sickly yellow glow as a discordant tone played from several speakers. The clouds opened themselves, unleashing a cold drizzle on us, making good on the promise of the thunder from that morning. Just in time for the night shift. The day shift trudged en masse up the road as the freshly rested slaves marched down to resume the work we’d started. At the top of the road ponies gathered in a large line, eagerly trotting in place and peering around each other. At the head of the line stood two armed guards who flanked an aging blue unicorn as she levitated a small roll off of a large tray and into the waiting mouth of a scrawny stallion. He bit down on it and quickly trotted off even as the guard shouted, “Next!”

“C’mon! Keep it moving! We ain’t got all night!” One of the guards barked, and in response another slave stepped forward to receive their evening meal. The older unicorn worked as quickly as she could, but there were so many mouths to feed that the line moved slowly.

“Rolls look smaller than normal,” somepony muttered.

“Yeah, I hear the little ones are having problems with the farm. There aren’t many elders to show them the way anymore,” said another.

“Not with Fortune working us all to death.”

My ears flicked back and forth, picking up snippets of the hushed conversations. If the guards overheard anything, they certainly didn’t seem to care. They simply looked bored and ready to go on to other tasks.

“Next!”

The line shifted forward a pony’s length as a group and then stood still again. Two guards ambled by, talking to themselves. The slaves behind me fell silent and looked towards the ground. As they passed, my ears angled to pick up their conversation.

“Did you hear? Cutthroat and her team are missing.”

“A missing salvage team?”

“Yeah. She ain’t reported in. Fortune’s prolly spitting his bit.”

“Huh, that’s odd. He sending a search team?”

“Nah, prolly just retasking one of the other salvage crews due out tomorrow.”

It wasn’t the first time a salvage team went missing. Occasionally they were ambushed by raiders, or ripped to shreds by the horrible beasts that lurk in the ruins around The Dig. More than once it was an escape attempt organized by the crew that resulted in the slaves being put down by the Minders who return to camp a few days later to report the loss of equipment to Fortune. More than one Minder had spent time in Zero’s shack for the loss of a group of slaves. But if they might send another scavenging group out instead of more Minders, then-

“Hey! I said next!”

The gruff voice jostled me from my thoughts and I stepped forward, took my roll and quickly trotted off towards the camp as I chewed. The adult slaves slept under a patchwork awning that only just kept the drizzling rain off us. Thread-bare, moldy blankets rested in haphazard rows. We owned nothing, and the foremost ‘beds’ were hotly contested. First to sleep and first up in the morning for food. More than one slave had lost their life for refusing to give up their spot to somepony bigger and more dangerous.

The slaves milled about in the brief time that was considered ours. Some slept fitfully while others gathered in groups to speak. Off to the side, a mare and stallion were fucking like this was their last night on Equestria, and for all they knew it might well be.

Across the poorly lit space and the milling ponies I spied a shock of red mane. I pushed my way through the crowd and spied Jerry as she spoke to a burly orange mare. They laughed about something only they knew. The orange mare spotted me and nodded in my direction. Jerry turned and fixed me with a warm smile that was infectious. She bid her friend farewell and trotted over.

“Hey, ya big lug!” She said cheerfully, jabbing me in the shoulder with her hoof. I smiled down at her and put my leg around her, pulling her into a hug.

“Glad to have ya back,” I said. Jerry squirmed in my grip and pushed away with both hooves.

“Oof! Easy there big guy! Gotta remember I’m about half your size,” she said with a smirk.

“Sorry. It’s been a difficult couple’a weeks. It’s nice to see a friendly face,” I muttered as we walked away from the groups and headed to the back of the camp. Before long the blankets were gone, replaced by a large field of mud and stones. A large, worn stone stuck out of the ground and I trotted over and stepped onto it. Ever since I was a colt, this had been my bed. At first it was to keep as far from the others as possible, to try and shut out the fact my freedom ended at my name. No one fought for the biggest rock when they could fight over the least rotted blanket. Jerry and Bucket had stuck with me. The three of us only having each other in this new hell we had found ourselves in. But over the years, this spot had become home. I sat down and Jerry sat herself down next to me and quickly leaned against my shoulder.

“You’re exhausted,” I said. She nodded, her eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah. I spent three weeks out in the wastes looking for stuff. I’m back an hour only for them to tell me I’m heading out again tomorrow,” she mumbled, “Not my fault Cutthroat couldn’t find her own ass with two hooves and a flashlight…”

“Speaking of. Whips is sending me out with you tomorrow,” I said. Jerry’s ears perked up and she lifted her head to look at me. At first she was smiling. But it quickly was replaced with a look of suspicion.

“Why?” She asked. “He’s never let you before.”

I shrugged.

“He said Bruiser needs a strong pony.”

Jerry’s brow furrowed and she looked down. “Well… Mangle, that brainless raider, did get himself blown apart by an old frag mine last week. Bruiser must’ve radioed in that he was a pony sh-” Jerry’s thought was interrupted by a deep yawn and she lowered herself down onto the rock, allowing her eyes to close. “Sorry… so tired…”

I smirked and brushed my hoof along her mane.

“Get some rest,” I whispered to her. She nodded and muttered something unintelligible. I sat in silence, absently watching ponies settling in for the night as my mind pored over the events of the day. My stitches itched and ached in equal measure, a feeling I was all too familiar with. I put it to the back of my mind and pulled the task ahead of me into the forefront. This would be my first time outside The Dig since I arrived. This would be my chance. I looked down at Jerry.

Our chance.

This will be our last night as slaves.

It was early yet, the lights of the lamps providing a sickly yellow shading to everything. The sky was beginning to brighten as somewhere beyond the clouds the sun began to rise. Bucket stood on the edge of The Dig, staring down into the pit at the ponies toiling below. As he watched, one of the slavers brutally whipped a straggling pony. His cries echoed up to us with each crack of the whip.

“Bucket? Wh-what are you doing?” I asked. Bucket glanced over his shoulder at Jerry and I, and then looked back down into the pit.

“W-we shouldn’t be off the farm. We need to get back before somepony sees us.” Jerry half-whispered as she huddled next to me, her eyes darting back and forth on the lookout for guards.

“WE shouldn’t be here, Jerry… We’re supposed to be out there, with our parents…” Bucket said quietly.

“Our parents are dead, Bucket,” I said softly. He winced and continued to stare down into the mine for a moment.

“Then our parents were the lucky ones…” he said as he turned away from the pit and walked silently back towards the farm. Jerry watched him go and looked at me.

“What’s wrong with him?” She asked. I shook my head.

“He’s losing hope, Jerry. He needs us more than ever,” I said as I trotted after him.

“Wake up... need to move!”

I felt hooves jabbing into my side and my eyes fluttered open.

“W-what?” I grunted as consciousness slowly filled me.

“I said, you need to move! You’re heavy!” Jerry whined. My eyes opened and I suddenly became aware that I had Jerry pinned between my side and the rock. I rolled onto my hooves and looked away sheepishly.

“S-sorry!” I stammered, rubbing a hoof across the back of my head. Jerry stood up and arched her back until it popped.

“Yeah, me too. How’d you get so damn big on a diet of crappy rolls and rainwater?” She muttered as she rubbed her neck.

“Sheer stubborn tenacity,” I answered with a smirk. Jerry made a show of rolling her eyes.

“Anyway, c’mon. We need to meet up with Bruiser. Trust me, you don’t want to be late.”

Before I could respond she trotted off, nimbly dancing around the prone and sleeping ponies. It was only barely morning, the faintest traces of light piercing through small gaps in the gray clouds overhead. I followed after Jerry at a much slower pace, not being even half as nimble as she is. I briefly considered telling her about my dream, but… mentioning Bucket didn’t do good things for Jerry’s mood. And it wasn’t a particularly happy memory. Best to leave it for now.

A group of guards stood nearby talking amongst themselves and Jerry trotted past them as casually as you please. One watched her carefully for a moment before returning to their conversation. The sounds of the evening crew’s work drifted up from The Dig, filling the air with a constant droning of tools clashing on stone even as the generators sputtered and died one by one; the lights flickered out as the day began.

“Hey!”

I froze, a chill running along my spine. A guard ambled over, the assault rifles affixed to his barding clicking as he released the safeties.

“What’re you doing out so early?” He asked.

“I’ve been assigned to leave with Bruiser today,” I said quietly, looking away from the guard.

“Yeah… so what’re you doin’ over here?” He asked, taking a step forward. I took one back, keeping my gaze low.

“It's my first time on a scavenging team. I don’t know where to go…”

The guard rolled his eyes and gestured with a hoof.

“Stupid slaves don’t know nothin’. Head up the road, stop at the checkpoint, and wait with the others for Bruiser. And don’t piss off the night watch, they aren’t as friendly as I am. Now beat it!” he barked as he spun around. He muttered quietly to himself as he moved to join the other guards and joined the conversation.

I quickly trotted off in the direction the guard had pointed, following the muddy road as it was gradually replaced with cracked and crumbling pavement. I glanced around, taking in structures I’d only seen from the corner of my eye for most of my life. A squat, gray building rose from the ground. Through broken windows I spied hanging lanterns of guttering flame and heavily armed guardsponies that stood behind highway dividers that had been hauled in for fortification. Surrounding that building were smaller, rusting longhouses. Delicious smells emanated from the biggest of these, and a line of slavers trailed out the door as they waited for their meal. I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply the aroma of cooking food. I had no idea what it was that was being cooked, but my mouth watered all the same. The rolls they doled out morning and night provided only what was needed - flavor not included.

“Don’t get used to it.”

I opened my eyes and looked at the source of the voice. Jerry sat next to me, smiling.

“I… I was just…” I stammered. She nodded in understanding.

“Even out there, we get the same stale rolls. Only difference is they’re even more stale,” she said as she stood up and nudged my shoulder with hers. “C’mon, Bruiser doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

We walked in silence for several minutes, passing more and more guards on the way. Most paid us no mind as they went about their morning duties, others watched us very carefully.

“I never knew there were so many…” I muttered. Jerry looked back at me.

“They’re slavers, Free. Most of the time they’re off finding new slaves,” she answered solemnly. “When they aren’t out destroying lives, they’re here getting ready to.”

We fell silent as we approached a large, colorful wall composed of buses, trucks and trailers of various hues. They’d been lifted and stacked on top of one another, forming a wall of rusting hulks that kept the outside world at bay and Fortune’s army of living tools in. Broken windows revealed the interiors had been filled with sandbags while the uppermost ones had been gutted entirely, allowing guards to patrol the wall behind a modicum of cover. At its foot, a group of ponies shuffled about while a large white unicorn stallion in gleaming metal armor looked over a checklist he levitated in front of his face. Jerry tapped me on the shoulder and nodded her head in the stallion’s direction.

“That’s Bruiser,” she said, “he’s pretty laid back. But don’t let that fool you. I once saw him crush another stallion’s skull between his hooves for attempting to escape.”

I looked over the stallion again, this time with a warier eye. Thick muscles bunched beneath his hide, flexing as he stood there. He was bored with standing around, probably eager to get back out to the wasteland. Jerry nudged me and trotted over to stand amongst the group. I followed, standing next to her as Bruiser cleared his throat.

“Daydream?”

“H-here,” a timid pink mare mumbled. Bruiser fixed her with a withering glare and she squeaked and looked away. He smiled, seemingly pleased with himself and continued down his list.

“Wrecker?”

“Yeah, yeah.” A wiry earth pony spat. If my time here had taught me one thing, it was beware of enslaved raiders. I’d be giving Wrecker a wide berth.

When he came up to me he tucked the checklist into his saddlebag and glared at me. It was odd being eye to eye with one of the slavers. I’d been so much bigger than most of them for the last several years.

“You’re the muscle that Whips sent up, ain’t’cha?” He asked. I nodded, which seemed to please the unicorn. “Right, so what’s your name?”

“Free,” I answered. His brow peaked and a smirk tugged at his lips.

“No. You aren’t,” he said, pressing his face close to mine and exhaling his rancid breath into my face, “Best remember that out in the wasteland, colt. That clear?”

“Crystal…” I muttered. Bruiser stepped back and smirked.

“Good. You damn greens always think going outside means you’ll get a chance to escape. Don’t be as stupid as the rest. Stitch, Fricassee; hook him to the wagon,” he said as he turned his back on me.

Two unicorn mares approached, pulling a cart with their magic. The one on the right might have been considered cute, had she any flesh that didn’t look like it had been burnt, blistered and sloughed off a dozen times over. I couldn’t tell what color her coat had been, as most of her frame was covered in thick leather padding and that which wasn’t covered was knotted scar tissue. Two hoses snaked from a mechanism on her back to a mask affixed over her muzzle. The device huffed loudly and the mare jerked as it forced air into damaged lungs every few seconds to keep her upwardly mobile. Two smaller tanks rested on her hips, thick tubes connected them to two hefty flamethrowers that were rigged to a harness around her body.

“Right,” she wheezed, “C’mon then, slave. You know. The drill,” she said. Each word sounded like it took a tremendous amount of effort just to say. Like she had to take a deep breath just to spout a word or two.

The other unicorn had a pristine white coat and a gentle looking face inset with sunken eyes partially hidden behind her tan mane. She didn’t look at me so much as she looked past me at nothing in particular. A cigarette hung limply from her lips, a faint orange glow smoldering in the early morning light. I could just make out her cutie mark under her combat barding - a threaded needle with a drop of blood coming off the tip. She waited until I was in place before she magically tightened straps and belts around my midsection and secured me to the cart.

“C-carts hook-kuh-ked up, Bruiser.” she stuttered.

All told there were twelve ponies in the group, with Bruiser, Stitch, and Fricassee being the ones armed and in charge. Bruiser moved to stand in front of a large gate and turned to face everypony.

“Alright, I know news travels like a plague in this place, so I’m sure you already heard that Cutthroat’s group never returned from their last outing,” he said as he paced up and down the line of slaves, “Mister Fortune says we’re to follow their last known path and try to find them. At the same time, I expect you to meet your usual quota on salvage.”

Bruiser looked directly at me and strode over. He jabbed the tip of his hoof into my chest.

“Lookie here, new fish. I don’t like taking fresh slaves out into the world. Makes you a liability. So you’re going to do everything you’re told exactly when you’re told. No questions asked or I will let the first danger we come across rip you to bloody shreds, am I clear?”

It was clear he wasn’t looking for a verbal response, but rather was establishing himself as the dominant pony in the group. I glanced down at his hoof and then nodded, being sure to keep my eyes downcast. He nodded smugly then spun sharply and approached Fricassee and Stitch. The trio spoke in hushed tones as they discussed something clearly not fit for measly slaves to hear. Jerry took the opportunity to trot over and stand beside me.

“You sure you’re up for this?” she asked quietly. I smirked at her and gave her quick nod.

“More than you know,” I muttered. I looked at the other slaves and gestured with a flick of my head. “What can you tell me about everypony here?” I asked.

Jerry looked around, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.

“Right… well,” she gestured at Daydream where she sat in the mud. The pink mare hung her head low, her green mane down over her eyes, and kept her tail wrapped around her. “We picked up Daydream about a year ago. She was half dead, hiding in some old building and surviving off of whatever she could. Bruiser slapped some chains on her and called her part of the quota. He keeps her out of the mine. He figures that if she survived to adulthood out there, then she must have some scavenging chops,” she said with a shrug. “She keeps to herself. I feel sort of bad for her.”

I looked at the mare sitting in my periphery and then nodded my head at the mint green raider pony with a spindly purple mane.

“What about him? Wrecker, was it?”

Jerry scowled and glanced sidelong at him.

“He’s filth. He’s the kind of pony that should be worked to death in The Dig, not ponies like Daydream or you and me,” she practically spat. She returned her gaze to mine and sighed. “Stay away from him. He’s dangerous and unstable.”

Quietly we went around the group with Jerry filling me in on the brief history of the ponies in the group. Snazzy, the purple stallion with the dark red mane, had been a wandering merchant until Fortune’s slavers got a hold of him. Crackers and Baker were siblings that had run a bakery in a small settlement far to the north. Slavers raided the town and put everyone in chains. Those two were sold to Fortune’s people a couple years back. Onyx, Sandy Shadow, and Caramel had all been enslaved as foals like we had been. I rolled the information around in my head, only broken from my thought by Bruiser’s voice.

“Alright,” he bellowed loudly, the guard assigned to the gate suddenly snapping to attention. “Open her u-”

“Wait!” somepony shouted as they came galloping up the soggy road. Bruiser grumbled loudly and shoved Daydream aside roughly as he stepped past the slaves to intercept the oncoming pony.

“Who the hell are you?” he growled, his magic levitating out a battered pistol. The brown earth pony slowed and took a moment to catch his breath. He was clearly unused to running.

“My n-name is Dig Deep. M-Master Fortune sent me,” he wheezed as he twisted to bury his muzzle into his saddlebag. Bruiser aimed the pistol at him, eyeing him carefully as he watched the pony root around for something. After a moment he pulled out a rumpled sheet of paper. Bruiser’s magic snatched it away and he looked it over carefully, the gun dipping lower as he read. The earth pony waited patiently, eagerly taking this moment to catch his breath and fiddle with a strange shackle around his foreleg. After a moment Bruiser hissed and the note crumpled in on itself and was tossed back in Dig Deep’s face. It bounced in his hooves a few times before he was able to catch it and clutch it to his chest.

“Fricassee, you’re babysitting the bookworm,” Bruiser muttered as he pushed himself to the front of the pack.

“Just. Great.” Fricassee hissed between forced breaths. “Stay close. Keep your. Mouth. Shut.” she added, jabbing a hoof into the stallion’s chest. Dig Deep nodded quickly but didn’t speak. Bruiser pointed at the gate guard.

“C’mon! Get that damn gate open! Time’s a wastin’!” he bellowed. The guard nodded and turned to a control panel next to him. He reached out a hoof and flipped a large knife switch. It sparked wildly with loud pops as power cycled to a large winch. Steel cabling groaned in protest as the heavy steel door was slowly lifted. Bruiser ducked his head under it and then gestured for the group to follow. I followed slowly, waiting for the gate to clear the ground enough to fit the cart through.

I’m not sure what I had been expecting, but I found myself disappointed none-the-less. Outside the gate wasn’t much different than inside - a barren wasteland pock-marked with the decaying signs of a civilization long gone. A large checkpoint was assembled in front of the main gate and a couple of guards looked down on us dispassionately from the short towers.

“Make sure you drag Cutthroat back by her mane, Bruise!” one of them called out, “Whether the bitch is dead or alive.”

Bruiser nodded stiffly but said nothing. We followed a cracked road as it veered off to the right, the slaves trotted behind him in silence. Stitch stood to the side, eyes downcast. Fricassee, Dig Deep and I brought up the rear. There was no speaking as we marched. The silence was only broken up by the sounds of our hooves on the old pavement and of Fricassee’s respirator keeping her alive. I cast furtive glances around as we walked.

Now, it was just a matter of opportunity.

Turns out I was wrong about that being our last night as slaves. We walked for days, stopping at nearly every patch of sizable old world rubble long enough for the rest of the slaves to poke through for anything valuable. Anything worth keeping was deposited in the cart I pulled, and it didn’t take long for the cart to become quite heavy. Bruiser made it very clear that I wasn’t to scavenge. I’m here for my muscle and my muscle alone. And so we continued for five days. Stop at ruins. Scavenge and look for the missing team. Repeat.

Now, Bruiser stood atop a pile of rubble that was once a building’s facade and watched the slaves carefully, casting the occasional glance in my direction to ensure that I was still near the cart. Stitch walked among the others, occasionally giving out a stuttered order before moving on. Fricassee and the last minute addition sat a little ways from me and the cart. He was quietly muttering to himself as he fiddled with the shackle on his leg while Fricassee dutifully ignored him.

“-and if the signs are accurate I might just find a clue to our objective just east of here. Finally, after all these years... Fortune believes-” he muttered as he tapped the shackle. Fricassee snorted loudly and the stallion looked at her.

“You talk. A lot.” she wheezed. He frowned and lowered his hoof.

“S-sorry. I’ve never been far from the- The Dig. I’m nervous… and when I’m nervous I document things,” he said sheepishly as he rolled a small stone under his hoof. Fricassee turned her head and gazed at him with bloodshot eyes.

“Document. Quietly.” she rasped, her tone brooking no argument. Dig Deep nodded and lowered his gaze to his shackle once more as Fricassee resumed her silent vigil.

The cart jostled loudly and I whipped my head around. Jerry stood there, a large canister next to her with drag marks leading to the cart.

“Hey big guy. Can you lift this into the cart for me?” she asked, sweat beading on her brow.

I nodded, bent down to bite the handle, and lifted it onto the cart. I easily shoved it to the back despite its weight and turned back to her. “More fuel?” I asked. She beamed and nodded.

“It’s my special talent you know,” she said proudly as she turned, showing off her cutie mark and then trotted away.

I smirked and glanced at the image on my own flank. Though a scar cut a swathe through the middle of it, I could still make out the yellow half circle with an orange crown peeking over a brown horizon. I didn’t know what it meant and I hadn’t been doing anything different on the day I’d gotten it that might clue me in. It was something I rolled around in the back of my mind, escaping inwards to power through the horrors of my reality whenever I needed to.

“Hey!” Bruiser shouted from his perch, thankfully derailing my train of thought. I looked at him. He appeared to be looking at me, but just to be sure I glanced over my shoulder. Just me then.

“Yes sir?” I called back.

He jabbed his hoof to the left.

“Grab the bookworm and bring him this way. I want him to check something,” he said before sliding his way down the opposite side of his rubble perch. I glanced over at where Fricassee and Dig Deep stood and trotted over. Fricassee eyed me carefully as I approached, but said nothing.

“Bruiser wants him,” I said with a gesture of my head. The earth pony looked up and then at Fricassee. She jerked her head at me.

“Go,” she rasped. Dig Deep stood and together we trotted in the direction Bruiser had gone. When we reached the hill of rubble he glanced back at Fricassee and then sighed in relief.

“She’s a scary one,” he muttered. I couldn’t tell if it was to me or himself, so I responded in kind.

“They all are. Just count yourself lucky you’re not a slave.” He glanced at me.

“What makes you say I’m not a slave myself?” he asked. I snorted and looked at him from the corner of my eye. He was dressed in thick barding with heavy saddlebags on both his sides. Suddenly I jerked my head in his direction. He shrank away, shielding himself with his foreleg and that strange shackle. I straightened and looked forward again as we reached the crest of the debris and started down the other side.

“That,” I said. Dig Deep frowned.

“Wh-what? You didn’t say anything,”

“It’s not about what I said, it’s about what you have,” I said as I slid down the scree. At the foot of the hill I glanced back at Dig Deep as he carefully tried to pick his way down the loose rubble and more than once nearly lost his balance. Rather than watch him stumble down the scree I cast a curious glance at my surroundings. It looked like we were in the heart of some pre-war office building that had fallen in on itself. Rusting desks and shattered terminals were mixed with the general wasteland detritus between the few walls that somehow still managed to stand. Bruiser stood over a single desk in a corner as the other slaves weaved in and out of the ruins searching for valuables.

“Bookworm! Quit wasting time and get over here!” he barked. Startled by the sudden outburst, Dig Deep stumbled and slid down the remainder of the hill on his side. I reached out a hoof and he took it to help himself up. He trotted over and gave Bruiser a worried look.

“Wh-what can I do for you?” he asked. Bruiser jabbed a hoof at the flickering terminal that rested on a half-buried desk. The staticky image of a stylized eye over an open book briefly flashed into view. Dig Deep’s eyes widened and he stepped closer. “An Image terminal. Excellent work, Bruiser,” he said as he raised the shackled hoof to his mouth. He carefully pulled a thin cord ending in a metal plug from it and inserted it into a hole on the side of the terminal, and then proceeded to jab at buttons on the shackle with his free hoof. Both devices whirred and clicked as something happened between them.

“Excellent, excellent,” he murmured as he tugged the cord free. “This data will take some time to process. Are we close to where we lost Cutthroat’s team?”

“We’re heading in the same direction,” Bruiser grumbled with a shrug, “But we don’t know WHERE along the route they disappeared.”

“Well, as soon as we’re ready to move, I suggest we do so,” he added as he returned his focus to his leg. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to look over this new information.” The stallion muttered to himself as he slipped through the ruins absently heading back the way he’d come. Bruiser’s eyes locked on me and narrowed.

“Shall I head back to the cart?” I asked. He snorted and gave me a dismissive wave of his hoof before trotting off and barking orders at one of the others. I picked my way quietly back to the cart. Fricassee still sat nearby, stock-still save for her jerking movements when the respirator breathed for her. She inclined her head to me, fixing me with her goggled, bloodshot eyes.

“Where’s. The nerd?” she huffed.

“With Bruiser the last I saw.”

The mare grunted and then stared off at the ruins where the rest of the slaves scavenged. I sat beside the cart, casting furtive glances in her direction. She wasn’t much bigger than Jerry was. She might be heavier given that she was always lugging around her breather and those two flamers. I doubted she could move all that quickly with all her gear.

“See something. You like?” she breathed, turning her head towards me. My eyes widened and I looked away.

“Sorry. I was just… wondering what happened.”

Fricassee was quiet for a long time before she shrugged.

“Fire. Bad,” she said. She let out a wheezing rasp that I guess must’ve been chuckling.

It took another hour for everyone to return. The various pieces of salvage they’d dragged back were given a once over by Bruiser. Anything not tossed aside as trash was placed in the back of the cart and secured with a fraying rope net. Bruiser looked intently upwards as the light began to fade from the sky.

“Move into the ruins; we’ll be making camp here for the night,” he said as he trotted towards the sagging structures. He passed several before finally stopping in front of a crumbling store front and glancing into the darkened interior. His horn began to glow, casting a weak light inside. Stitch moved over to stand next to him, peering into the shop as well.

“W-what’s the p-puh-problem?” she asked. Bruiser noisily sucked his teeth before he looked at our group.

“Any of you scavenge in here earlier?” he asked. I looked to the others and saw several heads shaking. Bruiser sighed and pulled out his weather-beaten pistol. “Fine. Wrecker, get your hide up here. We’re gonna take a look around.”

The raider muttered insults and obscenities as he trudged into the darkened interior, followed by Bruiser. From outside, I could hear the occasional noise of a kicked can or bumped shelf and vaguely make out the faint glow of his magic.

“I don’t get it,” I muttered. “What’re they looking for?”

“B-buh-Bruiser’s t-talent is to s-suh-sense ferals. F-fuh-ferals like the ruh-ruins,” Stitch stammered, “They’re m-muh-makin’ sure we d-don’t get m-muh-munched in our sleep-p-p.”

BLAM!

The group fell silent as all ears focused on the darkened interior. Fricassee took a couple of steps forward, the pilots of her flamethrowers igniting with a spark of her magic as she peered into the darkness.

“Boss?” she called, louder than I thought she could manage.

After a long moment Bruiser’s voice cut through the tension.

“It’s fine. Just a single feral,” he called. Fricassee visibly relaxed and the ignition flames on her weapons cut off immediately. Several minutes later Bruiser stepped into the waning sunlight, a foul red splash marring his gleaming armor. A cloth was magically tugged from his saddlebag and mopped across the offending stain. Behind him trudged Wrecker, a length of rope clenched in his jaws, the opposite end of which was tied to the leg of a withered and decayed... thing. He dragged it into the middle of the road and spat out the rope. Then he spat a few more times to wash the taste out of his mouth.

“All clear. Everyone pile in for the night,” Bruiser said as he gestured at the building with his pistol. Stitch unhooked me from the cart and trotted into the structure after the others. I stood for a moment in the waning light and stared off into the distance. Freedom was so close I could almost taste it.

A sudden burst of light and heat caused me to wince and shy away. I turned and shielded my eyes with a foreleg as Fricassee torched the corpse Wrecker had dragged out. The sickening smell of searing, spoiled meat washed over me and it was all I could do not to gag.

“Hey! Time to pack it in for the night, greenie,” Bruiser called, his pistol still levitated in front of him. I turned and looked at him. He looked almost bored. This was all routine to him.

“Yes sir,” I muttered. I trotted around him and into the building. I could hear him following, his hoofsteps slow and deliberate. A faint glow came from up ahead where the others had started a small fire. Smoke billowed up through the ruined ceiling. The slaves crowded the back wall and huddled together in small groups. The exception was Wrecker, who laid down between the slaves and the slavers. Fricassee stood at the entrance apart from the others, staring at the impromptu funeral pyre she’d made in the middle of the street, her rebreather wheezing every few seconds.

Instinctively, I lowered myself down next to Jerry. She smiled warmly and nudged me with her head. None of the slaves talked. Bruiser and Stitch whispered quietly to one another while Dig Deep whispered to himself and continuously tapped at his shackle. The others quickly went still as exhausted slumber took them. I wasn’t as tired, given that I hadn’t been allowed far from the cart. I put my head down and watched our keepers through half-closed eyes. I was antsy. Part of me wanted to just grab Jerry and take off at a run. The other part of me knew that bullets tended to travel faster than the average pony could run. As the night ran on I relented and shut my eyes.

Maybe tomorrow would present me with an opportunity.

NEW GAME

Character Name: Carefree Free

CONFIRM

Yes/No

New Perk: Heavy Hoofed -- You hit like a truck. A very big truck. Melee and Unarmed damage increased, critical chance lowered.

New Perk: Hot Blooded -- When your blood spills, it boils. When under 50% health gain a 10% damage increase, - 2 Agility and -2 Perception.

Chapter 2: Opportunity Knocks

View Online

“I guess it felt like one of those 'now or never' moments. I don't know what made me pass it up that time. I just couldn't let her die...” - Carefree

I awoke to the sounds of murmuring voices. I sat up and willed my eyes to open despite my brain’s insistence that another five minutes would surely be fine. The other slaves were awake, but nopony had moved from the spots they had taken up the previous night. Bruiser and Fricassee stood in the faint morning light just outside the entrance, looking in all directions. Stitch stood in front of us, silent as a ghost and looking as though she wanted the world to swallow her whole. The bookworm was nowhere to be seen.

“What did I say, Frick?” Bruiser grumbled. “All you two had to do was keep an eye on him. That’s it!”

Fricassee’s response was the mechanical wheezing of her breather. She turned her head in his direction, her eyes narrowed. “Girl’s gotta. Sleep,” she muttered.

“Sleep my ass. Goddesses damn you both,” Bruiser barked as he trotted back into the building. “Everybody up! C’mon! Get up! Now Wrecker!” His hoof lashed out at anyone who didn’t move at his desired quickness and I watched Daydream take two hits before she could get to her hooves.

“What’s going on?” I asked. Bruiser turned a death glare at me. I stood my ground but did my best to maintain my well-honed ‘stupid slave’ look. After a moment he relented and jabbed a hoof out at the street.

“The tag-along is gone. Slipped out in the night. Now we need to find two ponies in this forsaken wasteland,” Bruiser said. “Alright, everyone. Outside. Now. Find me something that points in the moron’s direction. Go! Now!”

We spilled from the building, some faster than others. Wrecker trotted out like a bored colt looking for something to occupy his time. He glanced this way and that and then disappeared into the ruins across the street. Daydream walked down a crumbling sidewalk, head hung low as she scanned for signs of his passing. With a sigh, I trotted back inside. Bruiser watched me pass, his eyes narrowing.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. I shrugged and stopped near the burnt out remains of last night’s fire.

“Just what you asked. Looking for the bookworm,” I answered as I stared at the space the pony had occupied last night. I could still see him muttering to himself incoherently from across the fire, tapping that thing on his ankle. Bruiser stepped over near me, his eyes still narrowed. I looked at Bruiser and pointed at where he’d been last night.

“He’s always tapping away at that thing on his foreleg, looks like a shackle without the chain,” I said, miming the action.

“His pip-buck? What about it? I swear if you are wasting my time…” Bruiser started. I rolled my eyes and cut him off.

“Well, yesterday when he was messing with it, he mentioned something about something just east of here.”

Bruiser sucked his teeth a moment and then turned and marched back into the street. He looked east and I could almost see the debate he was having with himself in his head about whether or not he could trust me.

“Stitch!” he bellowed after a moment. The mare trotted over and looked at him coolly.

“We’re sweeping east. Make sure there are no stragglers,” he barked as he turned back to me. “Alright you, start moving east,” he said with a jerk of his head.

Wordlessly I trotted down the road, glanced this way and that. I wasn’t searching, not really. If the bookworm were still here, he’d have made an appearance by now. No, he must be further out.

Or dead.

Behind me, Stitch let out a sharp whistle that rang throughout the ruins. One by one the others trickled out and gathered near her. She gave a few hushed commands and Snazzy and Onyx trotted to the cart that had been my constant companion. They were buckled in by Fricassee and shortly thereafter they followed. Bruiser trotted behind me, followed by the slaves, who were in turn followed by Stitch and Fricassee.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Bruiser called. I gave him a shrug.

“Beats me,” I called back, “What exactly is he looking for?”

“You don’t need to be asking questions, slave!” Bruiser shouted back. Again, I shrugged. If he was so opposed to my insight then he could go without it, it made no difference to me. We left the ruined town in short order, the broken stone and rebar gradually giving way to a vast swathe of dirt and the occasional patch of brush that stubbornly refused to die.

We walked for several hours, our eyes peeled for any sign of Dig Deep. Snazzy and Onyx whispered quietly to one another, as did Jerry and Daydream. All the while Wrecker complained loudly about every little thing he could. From his hooves hurting to being thirsty and needing desperately to stop and take a leak. I was honestly surprised that somepony hadn’t shot him and left him to die in the wasteland long before I’d arrived. Hell, I’d never used a gun in my life and even I wanted to shoot him. His voice was quickly becoming like hooves on a chalkboard.

“Are we there yet?” Wrecker whined, dragging out the ‘yet’ for several seconds. Bruiser’s shoulders bunched up tightly under his armor as he fought a very real urge to-

“THAT’S IT!!” someone shouted. The group froze and turned as Daydream launched herself at Wrecker like a pink torpedo. The stallion shrieked as they collided, tumbling end over end before coming to a stop with Wrecker on his back, pinned to the dirt by Daydream as she smashed her hooves against his face. He wiggled a hoof free and futilely attempted to shield himself from her raging blows.

“Years! Years I’ve dealt with you!” she screamed, tears running down her cheeks, her purple mane sticking to them in wet clumps. “Your snide comments! Your filthy habits! Your unwanted touch! Your very presence is an affront to the Goddesses!” She continued to hammer him with blows, as she sobbed. Everyone watched in shock as the formerly timid mare pummeled the hardened raider with wanton abandon. Jerry was the one who shook herself from the daze and rushed forward. She bit down on Daydream’s mane and dragged her off Wrecker. Even when she was free she thrashed as though she were still pummeling him, sobbing all the while. Jerry spit out her mane and pulled the poor mare into a tight embrace. Daydream twisted and returned it as she melted down.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Jerry cooed, “It’s okay…”

Stitch trotted past them, over to Wrecker and nudged him with a hoof. He groaned and sniffled, wiping blood from his split lip and swollen nose. As he started to sit up Stitch placed a hoof on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“W-what’s this about ‘unwanted touching’, r-ruh-Wrecker?” she asked, glaring down at him. Wrecker blinked his rapidly swelling eye as he stared up at her.

“Ain’t done nuddin’,” he said. He turned his head to the side and snorted out a wad of bloody snot into the dirt. He gave a few test sniffs and then turned back to Stitch. “She’s just a crazy mare.”

“R-right. The normally quiet and d-docile mare…” she said, her horn flaring into a blue glow.

“Yeah, she… wait, what’re you doing?” Wrecker asked. A syringe levitated into Wrecker’s view, enveloped in her magic. She angled it upward and depressed the plunger, shooting out a stream of brackish liquid.

“R-remember when we had that l-long talk, Wrecker?” she asked. There was no nostalgia in her voice, only menace. Wrecker’s eyes locked on the syringe. “I told you what would happen if-f I even suspected you were up to y-your old shit,” she continued.

“N-now w-wait a second here!” he stammered, struggling to get out from under her hoof. “I didn’t do n-nothin’! Ya gotta believe m-me!”

Stitch narrowed her eyes. The syringe spun around and embedded itself in Wrecker’s neck and she pushed the dark sludge into him all before he could so much as whimper.

“Why would I believe a piece of shit like you?” she asked, taking her hoof off him. Wrecker rolled over, his breathing coming in shorter and shorter gasps. He struggled to his hooves on rubbery legs and looked around frantically. Pale blue foam frothed from the corner of his mouth.

“H-help me!” he croaked, looking at the other slaves. Whenever he tried to take a step towards them, they backed away. His eyes bulged in their sockets as he finally looked at me. He staggered towards me, fell half way and crawled the rest. I didn’t back away as he hooked my hoof with his and looked up at me with wide, terrified eyes. “Heh-heh-help…” he choked. His eyes rolled back into his head and he began to thrash about.

I slipped my hoof free as I took a step back and watched Wrecker spasm in the dirt. Convulsing. Doc had called it convulsing. My heart began to pound in my chest and I glanced over at Jerry. She was staring at Wrecker with wide eyes as painful memories were dragged, screaming to the surface. She stared at him in silent horror as he jerked at my hooves. Suddenly, his head burst like an overripe melon, spilling blood and gray sludge across my legs and the ground. My ears plastered down against my head as my hearing was replaced by a single, loud tone. I shook my head even as I backed away from the body, trying to undo what would likely be permanent damage. I turned and saw Bruiser, his pistol smoking in his magic. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear a word, just a constant, high-pitched whine.

Stitch trotted across the body that still twitched of its own accord and got right up in Bruiser’s face. They were arguing. Ponies didn’t get that kind of angry look on their face from a polite conversation. She shoved her hooves against his chest and he barely moved. Gradually the ringing began to calm and voices began to grow clearer.

“No dammit! I don’t care what you want! He was not your property to dispose of!” Bruiser bellowed. Stitch shoved him again, and again he didn’t move an inch.

“I d-don’t care! I warned h-him! You w-w-wuh-wuh-” Stitch paused, shutting her eyes tight a moment as she forced the words out. “W-were there! You heard me warn him!” she shouted. Bruiser tucked his smoking pistol away.

“Yeah, well, when we get back you can explain to Fortune why our quota is down. Let’s go, we have a nerd to find,” Bruiser said as he turned his back on Stitch and continued heading east. Slowly the others began to peter off after him until it was Jerry, Daydream, Stitch and myself. Stitch stood between us, shaking with barely controlled rage. Her horn flared to life and a second syringe pulled itself free of her saddlebag. Without hesitation, she jabbed the needle into her leg and injected herself with the contents. Gradually the enraged look in her eyes was replaced with a half-lidded, glassy stare.

“Are you… okay?” I asked, slowly approaching her. She turned her head in my direction and offered me a weak smile.

“Fine now,” she said quietly. She slowly turned back towards Jerry and Daydream and offered them her hoof. “Come now, before Bruiser gets any angrier.” The trio slowly stood and started after the rest, leaving me standing alone. I took a moment to glance down at Wrecker’s corpse and then turned and followed.

The group ambled to a stop and stared at what lay before us. We were eerily silent now, save for the odd sniffle from Daydream.

“Think he’s. In there?” Fricassee wheezed. Bruiser’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders bunched up in a shrug. Before us sat a large building that easily dwarfed anything The Dig had to offer. The ages had not been kind to her. Pockmarks from any number of things dotted its age-bleached surface and rust stains reached towards the ground from the aging metal fixtures. It sat in a wide concrete area, the husks of more than a dozen pre-war wagons sitting where they’d been abandoned centuries ago. Sand and mud had encroached from the furthest edges of the parking lot, flowing over a knee-high wall or through it in some places. Tall thin lamp posts jutted brokenly towards the sky in various states of disrepair. One had even collapsed and crushed a furrow into the roof of one of the wagons.

We trotted between them, casting wary glances at them. A bleached skeleton still sat behind the wheel of one of the wagons, its head lolling back and staring through a hole that had rusted through just above it. We approached the building stopping several feet away. Above the doors that had long since fallen from their frames was a pattern of stains that stretched across the entrance. They were all that gave any external clues to this building’s purpose, but were rendered half worthless from the ravages of time.

B...ds ...A...cheo…gy M...um

“Haven’t seen anything else in hours, if he’s not, I think we’ll be short another slave,” Bruiser responded as he glanced over his shoulder in my direction. Given the screaming match he’d had with Stitch, I very much doubted his words were for more than intimidation. He drew his pistol and trudged towards the entrance. “You and Stitch send in the slaves after me, but stay at the door, I don’t want anyone getting past you.”

Fricassee nodded and waved everyone forward and into the building. I expected it to be dark inside, but lights still flickered with life, casting strange shadows across peeling walls.

“Oh, this is giving me all sorts of bad feelings…” Bruiser muttered as he drew his pistol and stepped inside.

The entryway was a cavernous space that might have once been grand, but now lent to the broken-down appearance. Large columns held up the ceilings, but only just. A spider-web of cracks criss-crossed the entire ceiling high above us, looking for all the world as though it might crumble at any moment. The whole place stank of mildew, rot, and dust and somewhere within I could hear water dripping with a rhythmic precision. Our hoofsteps echoed faintly through the yawning hall as we approached a crumbling central desk. Scattered debris littered the floor and a crusty layer of dried and rotten wood flooring crackled with each step.

“What was this place?” Snazzy muttered, his head tilted back as he stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “Some sort of palace?”

“In the Badlands? Not likely…” Crackers responded.

Maybe it was divine providence deigning to answer a mortal’s question. Or maybe it was pre-war tech that somehow still functioned two centuries later. Either way, speakers recessed into the ceiling squealed into life as a message began to play.

“Welc-c-c-c-come to the Badlands Arche-e-e-e-eology Museum,” a stallion’s voice called, “Where the past comes alive! Please, step-p-p-p-p up to the reception desk for your free tour, sponsored by Robronco!”

“What’s arc-eology?” Onyx muttered softly.

“Back before the world ended, ponies would dig up relics from the past,” Bruiser commented dryly. From the back of the group I saw Daydream’s ears perk up.

“L-like scavenging?” she chimed in from Jerry’s side. Her voice seemed a bit lighter, like pummeling Wrecker had released the pent up rage, frustration and fear that I guess all slaves had bottled up inside. Bruiser chuckled.

“Sure, why not?” he muttered. Daydream’s ears fell and she lowered her head a bit as she retreated back into herself. And then there’s always a slaver to drive that cork right back into that bottle and make sure you know your place.

As we slowly approached the desk, a pair of doors to the side opened and a familiar metal form puttered out.

“Doc?” I called curiously.

“That’s not our robot. That’s just another of the same model,” Bruiser said as the robot came to a stop behind the desk. Even as he said it I was starting to notice the differences. This robot was much more stained and rusted than Doc was. It also wasn’t missing one of its eyestalks as all three turned and focused on us.

“Ah, hel-looo. My, it is so much busier today than normal! Can I interest you folks in a tour as well?” the robot asked in the same voice as Doc. Bruiser stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“Busy?” he asked, “We’re not the first ones through today?”

“Oh my, no. You would be the second. The first gentlecolt came for a tour about two hours ago,” it replied jovially. Bruiser glanced over his shoulder at me and smirked before looking back at the robot.

“Brown stallion with glasses? About this tall,” Bruiser asked, holding out his hoof to indicate height, “With a pip-buck on his leg?”

“Yes! Was he a friend of yours? Oh, he asked the most delightful questions. It made this old robot feel useful again. I’ve had such a difficult time maintaining the exhibits, you know. My primary function is to be a tour guide, not an entire maintenance staff all rolled into one,” the robot said, gesturing with its multi-jointed arms at the state of the building.

“Uhhh… right,” Bruiser said, “Is my friend still here by chance?”

“I do believe so. Last I saw him, he was heading off towards the Ancient Equestrian History exhibits,” The tour guide said, pointing down an adjacent hallway. “I called for him to be careful as we’re currently dealing with a rather… difficult problem, but he seemed lost in thought.”

Bruiser peered down the hallway and then looked back towards the robot. “What sort of problem?” he asked.

“The previous visitors to the museum seem to have gone quite out of their minds since they first arrived. They began to attack the other curators, so I had no choice but to seal them in the Eastern Wing. I’m sorry to say that with a lack of proper maintenance, those seals have been broken. Thankfully, none of those guests have ventured to this area of the museum.”

Bruiser nodded carefully and turned to jab a hoof at Daydream. “Go and fetch the girls. We’ll be needing them in here,” he said. Daydream nodded and trotted back towards the entrance as Bruiser turned back towards the waiting robot. “We need to find our friend, so we’ll be heading down that way. Can you guide the rest of our group here along behind us? They have a tendency to wander off if not... closely supervised…” he added after a moment’s pause.

“Ah, so you’ll be needing one of our special needs tours. That can certainly be arranged,” the tour guide said cheerfully. The robot drifted around the reception desk and positioned itself in front of the group as Daydream returned with Stitch and Fricassee. “Gather ‘round now everypony,” the guide said, gesturing for us to move closer. Furtive glances were cast towards Bruiser as he and the girls prepared their weapons. Cautiously we stepped forward between two of its outstretched arms.

“Do hold still, it has been some time since I’ve used my field generator or received proper maintenance,” it said. Small talismans set into the robot’s arms flickered as magical energy was shunted through them. A purple barrier sprang into existence around us, causing us all to huddle together. I reached out with a hoof and it stopped against the barrier. It was every bit as solid as the floor was.

“We’ll be going on ahead, please watch over our… special needs ponies for us,” Bruiser called with far too big a grin as the trio started through the doors leading to the Eastern Wing.

“W-wait a minute!” I called, causing them to stop and look back towards us. “What about us? What do we do if the ferals attack us? We’re unarmed.” There was a murmured chorus of agreements from the others.

A wicked smile cut across Bruiser’s features. “Try your best to look unappetizing,” he said as he turned his back on us once more.

“Asshole…” I hissed through clenched teeth and glanced back at the others. Everyone had the same look of trepidation I did. “We’ll be alright,” I said as confidently as I could manage. Hopefully, the barrier could keep things out as well as in.

“Alright, everypony! If you'll just follow me, I will take you on an exciting tour through the ages!” our guide said excitedly as it slowly drifted after Bruiser’s group. We followed after, compelled by the barrier when we were hesitant as we walked into the Eastern Wing. Bruiser, Stitch, and Fricassee disappeared around a corner ahead of us as we stopped in front of a peeling wall.

“Welcome to the Badlands Archeology Museum, Equestria’s foremost institute for the research and display of Ancient Equestrian history and prehistory. Ancient Equestrian history and prehistory are vast reservoirs of information that we have only just begun to tap into. History was ancient long before the Princesses rose to power, you know. And it is something that many ponies have dedicated their lives to unraveling,” it intoned as we looked at fading murals depicting regal winged beings tinted purple by the barrier.

“The Goddesses…” whispered Jerry as she stared at the images with wide eyes.

“Artifacts the world over are sent here for our multicultural teams to study,” the robot continued, “From the Griffon Dynasty to the Zebrican Empire, all of us are impacted by history, and only through its careful study are we able to properly understand it. Unfortunately, due to current events, we have developed quite a backlog of items to categorize and examine. But rest assured, when time permits, all items will be on display!”

“During this tour, you will see artifacts from several thousand years before the Princesses formed the Equestria we know and love today. Just this way,” he said as he started down the corridor again. From up ahead I heard the roar of Bruiser’s cannon, the chattering of Stitch’s rifle, and the throaty cough of Fricassee’s flamethrowers. I glanced at the tour guide, but it seemed as though he was solely focused on being able to do his job once again. We slowed to a crawl as we passed several display cases in various states of disrepair. Trinkets were in each, also in disrepair. Something that looked like a bowl that had been broken in half, tarnished metal coins with symbols too worn to tell what they once were, and so on.

It wasn’t long before Jerry was the only one intently listening to the robot’s droning speeches. For the most part, we moved when it moved and stopped when it stopped. I’d briefly glance at whatever curio or trinket it began to explain and then return to staring down the corridor. The corner the others had disappeared down was just ahead, and the sickly smell of burnt meat was quickly becoming more and more noticeable.

“Here in the Badlands, archeologists from all across Equus have begun to unearth artifacts from ancient civilizations that we had no idea existed until a few years ago. Why, when we attempted to build a sub-basement for additional storage, the construction ponies happened upon a staggering find beneath this very wing. We’ve unearthed cairn stones from roughly four thousand years before the Princesses came to power, and the capstone of a much larger and older structure! Isn’t that incredible?”

Wait a minute-

“Excuse me,” I said cheerfully. The robot’s eyes focused on me.

“Yes, my good sir! Do you have a question?”

“Actually, I was wondering if our friend was told about the discovery downstairs?”

The guide was quiet for a moment as its eyes turned to glance down the corridor before turning back to me.

“I believe he was actually. He was rather inquisitive about it as I recall and asked to see it. Unfortunately, the dig site is active and is not available for tours. Now, if you’ll follow me this way, you’ll get to see more remnants from the pre-history of Equestria!” The guide continued on, but when we approached the branching hallway, it turned and proceeded down the corridor in the opposite direction of Bruiser and the others.

“W-wait, where are you taking us?” Snazzy asked, glancing over his shoulder at the direction the slavers had cleared of ferals.

“To the next leg of the tour of course!” the guide said cheerfully.

“Um… shouldn’t we follow our… friends?” Caramel asked, forcing a grin as she spoke.

“I’m afraid your friends have started at the end of the tour route. Worry not. We will catch up to them somewhere in the middle. Now, who is ready to see pottery from the 3rd Griffon Dynasty?” he said as we approached a set of doors. He reached out with his thin, rusting limbs and opened the doors to the next area. Beyond them was a nearly black void. The guide paused momentarily, its eyes whirring and clicking as it looked around.

“Oh dear. It looks like maintenance is needed in here as well,” he muttered. His three eyes lit up shining a weak, yellowed glow into the darkness. “I’m afraid we’ll need to cancel the tour until maintenance can be contacted to repair the lights in this area.”

At the edge of the meek light, a pair of yellowed orbs flared into life. They bobbed side to side in the darkness. I took a step forward and peered into the dark. “What are those?” I muttered. I leaned forward trying to make something out of the darkness and narrowed my eyes. The orbs narrowed right back. Then another pair appeared. And another. And another.

“Oh shit…”

A chorus of desiccated throats unleashed a cry of anguished rage and pain as the ferals charged out of the dark and lunged at the shield. We returned the favor with a chorus of panicked shrieks and screams as they bounced off its flickering surface. They scrambled to their feet and laid into the shield, scratching at it with cracked and broken hooves. As I watched a feral lunged out of the darkness. It couldn’t have been much older than a foal. It smashed its head against the barrier once. Twice. On the third strike, it’s head split in two like a melon and coated the barrier in foul-smelling grey gunk. Thick yellowed sludge dripped from slacked jaws, flared nostrils, and sunken eyes as more and more ghouls emerged from the darkness.

These were ponies?

“I say! You lot settle down! You are interrupting a tour in progress! Security has been notified and is undoubtedly on its way here now!” our guide said as it was pummeled by the mass of ghouls. Its rusting metal chassis buckled under the blows and sparks shot from something inside of it. In response, one of its eyes flickered and died. “You vandals! Cease this immediately!”

If they understood the robot’s words they gave no indication as two bit down on his thrashing arm and began to pull all of us deeper into the room. Daydream and Caramel were screaming, their backs flat against their barrier and their hooves scraping for purchase on the floor.

“What’re we gonna do? What’re we gonna do!?” Onyx screamed as more and more ghouls battered against the magical shield.

“We’re going to die! Those assholes left us to die!!” Baker shouted as he beat his hooves against the back of the barrier. Baker and Crackers bucked at the purple barrier while Sandy Shadow held her head in her hooves and rocked back and forth. Jerry stood in the middle of the group as it quickly descended into panic and chaos. Her eyes were locked on me, looking to me for some kind of idea or answer. I felt my heart pounding in my chest and I knew that I had to do something. For her. I turned and looked at the robot as it fought valiantly to keep its arm attached to the rest of its body. A losing battle judging by the agitated whine the limb was making.

“Mister Tour Guide!” I shouted. One of the two remaining eyes focused on me.

“I’m terribly sorry, young sir, but I’m rather engaged with these hooligans at the moment,” it said. The others began to look in my direction as the robot resumed shouting at the ferals to no effect.

“But Mister Tour Guide! We… uh…” My mind drew a blank. We what? We don’t want to die? We don’t want to be eaten? What could I say that would get this bucket of loose bolts to drop the magical barrier? “...we… we need to go to the bathroom!” Both the robot’s eyes turned and focused on me.

“I’m sorry?” he said, as if unsure of what he just heard. I swear even one of the ferals had stopped to give me a strange look.

“We need to go real bad! Right now! Please let us go to the bathroom!” I shouted with increased urgency.

“I’m terribly sorry, little ponies. I promise I will escort you to the restrooms once I’ve successfully corralled these ruffians.” the guide said.

“But… if you make us wait any longer, I’ll just explode!” I shouted.

“My word,” the robot said, focusing all of its eyes on me, “I had no idea the situation was so dire. Far be it from me to deny someone their basic pony rights. The restroom is back the way we came on the left. Please wait there for me and I’ll be along shortly.” The barrier flashed and dissipated in an instant. The ghoul ponies attacking it suddenly fell forward and got tangled with one another.

“Run! Go!” I shouted as I turned on the spot. Hooves scrabbled against the floor for purchase as we ran back the way we’d come. With his arms now free, the tour guide extended them outwards and barred the way in front of the ferals. Several remained focused on it, battering his frame with their hooves or biting down wherever they could. Despite the target in front of them, more than a dozen gave chase, loping on withered limbs that didn’t seem like they’d be capable of carrying anypony.

It’s okay! The entrance isn’t far, we’ll get outside and put some real distance between us and them! Then we’ll all be free! I thought as I glanced back towards the ferals.

Onyx lagged behind, constantly looking over her shoulder at the gnashing teeth and rotting mouths that hungrily pursued after her. She let out a shriek of terror as one snapped its jaws closed just shy of her rear and put on a burst of speed that would’ve made a pegasus proud and easily caught her up to us. Then her hoof came down on a loose tile that slipped forward as she put her weight into the step. Time slowed to a crawl. Her eyes widened as she pitched forward and her hooves flew out from under her. Time returned to normal as she hit the ground. She scraped across the floor painfully, a cloud of dust rising from the unkempt floor as she slid to a stop.

“Dammit!” I shouted and darted towards her. Jerry skidded to a halt as I passed her and turned to follow me. “Get Onyx out of here!” I shouted back at her as I leapt across Onyx’s prone form and planted myself between her and the ferals. I’d never fought before, but I’d witnessed fighting in the slave pens and experienced beatings my entire life. As the first one approached, I reared back and brought both hooves down on the top of its skull. Fouled flesh peeled beneath my hooves as I drove its head into the tile floor with a wet crunch. Something thick and warm engulfed my hooves, but before I could think about it, I was twisting to kick out at the next ghoul. I felt something give way and the feral howled as it was lifted from the floor to land in a heap a few feet away.

I heard Jerry urging Onyx up, but couldn’t take my eyes from the mass of teeth and putrid flesh bearing down on us. “C’mon, Onyx! We have to move, now!”

“M-my leg! It hurts so bad!” Onyx cried. I glanced back quickly to see Onyx leaning heavily against Jerry’s flank. Then I felt broken teeth sink into my shoulder. I screamed, instinctively pulled away, and felt the teeth tear free of my hide, or rather, tear a piece of my hide free.

“Free!” Jerry screamed.

“Get her clear, Jerry! NOW!” I shouted as I barreled into the offending feral and drove it into the floor with my wounded shoulder. Pain lanced through me as the beast crumpled beneath me. I rolled to my hooves as quick as I was able before they could pile onto me and spell my doom. That last move had cost me my positioning. Three ghouls staggered into the space between me and the path to freedom, their attention laser focused on me.

“Well, if I can’t go that way.” I turned and my eyes bulged in their sockets as an open mouth filled my view. I fell backwards as a ghoul snapped its mouth shut just shy of my face. I scrambled to my hooves and shouldered it aside as I darted down the corridor the Minders had gone down. I heard animalistic growls and the clamour of hooves hot on my tail, but dared not look back again. With each step the smell of burnt meat grew more intense. Blackened husks laid on the floor or slumped against the walls, limbs contorted and bodies shriveled from the heat. There was a bend in the hallway ahead and I hoped they’d be somewhere within spitting distance just past it.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” I hissed through clenched teeth as I leapt over a body that still smoldered and darted around the corner. I was greeted by a hallway full of destroyed relics, dead and burned corpses, and Fricassee standing at the end of it, casually burning a ghoul to cinders. I never thought I’d be so glad to see a slaver. “Fricassee!” I screamed. Her head turned towards me, forever rendered impassive from her breather and her goggles. She turned in my direction and took a couple of steps. She was actually going to help me! She was-

Flame spilled down the corridor with a hungry roar. It licked across glass display cases, causing them to shatter and the contents within to burn. I winced as the heat began to wash over me and threw myself to the floor. The flames burned overhead, and I screamed as I felt my skin blister and cook on my body. The ghouls behind me shrieked an unholy chorus, thrashing out blindly as their eyeballs burst in their sockets. One by one they dropped to the floor and their bodies grew still, but I was too preoccupied by my blistered flesh to pay them much attention. The air burned with each breath and if I so much as thought of moving it felt as though my hide would peel off my very bones.

Fricassee strode over to me, the burners on her flamers guttering with each step. Her horn flared into a lavender glow and a small round bottle pulled free of her pack and floated over to me. The stopper wriggled free and she held the bottle over my head. I took a moment to focus on it and then to glance at her.

“Drink,” she said, and jammed the bottle in my mouth. I choked on the purple liquid, a generous amount spraying from my mouth as I swallowed as much as I could. I felt the pain ebb as seared and blistered flesh reverted to a healthy pink that slowly sprouted new fuzz. The wound in my shoulder gradually knit itself closed with no hint that it even existed at all. I carefully pushed myself to my hooves, spat out the bottle, and wiped my mouth on the back of my foreleg.

“Th-thanks,” I croaked. She nodded wordlessly and tucked the empty bottle back into her bag.

“Where are. The others?” she asked as she strode over to one of the ghouls that had been chasing me and stomped its skull open. Steaming sludge spilled onto the floor and she nodded approvingly before moving onto the next.

“Our guide took us down the other hallway. It was crawling with ferals. We managed to break out of the barrier and run. The others ran for the exit while I drew the ferals off,” I said. Fricassee tensed and slowly turned her head to glare at me over her shoulder.

“You let. Them. Escape?!” she growled, her voice sounding rougher than normal. I narrowed my eyes and glared right back at her.

“Hey, I’m not part of the group that left the defenseless slaves all ALONE. Any blame here is squarely on you and your slaver pals,” I said, pointing a hoof at her.

For a long moment I feared she was going to burn me alive like she had the ghouls. Then her pilot lights extinguished and she growled, low and angry. “Wise-ass,” she rasped as she turned her back on me. “C’mon then. Need to. Tell Bruise.”

I was hesitant to follow. I glanced back over my shoulder at the now empty hallway. Safety was just a brief trot away. Freedom. A life with Jerry within reach. So what compelled me to follow her? To stay, if only a few minutes longer? I turned after Fricassee and trotted after her. Around the next bend were more dead ferals. Unlike the blackened husks behind me, these ones had sizable holes punched into their withered torsos and portions of their skulls blasted into unsolvable and slimy puzzles. At the center of the chaos stood Stitch, breathing heavily. She was bleeding from a bite wound to her shoulder and her face bore several cuts and scratches that dripped blood onto the tile floor. Her rifle floated next to her, smoke billowing from the angry red barrel.

“Stitch?” I called out as we stepped towards her. She spun as we approached, raising her rifle. I tensed, staring into the same hard eyes she’d worn when she killed Wrecker. Then she relaxed, the barrel dipping back towards the floor.

“Duh-don’t sneak up on m-me like that, I could’ve b-buh-blasted you into bloody shreds!” she shouted loudly. I opened my mouth but Fricassee held out her hoof and I quieted. Her horn flared into life and another healing potion was freed from her saddlebag and waggled in the air at Stitch, whose eyes brightened as she took the proffered bottle with her own magic and choked it down. The bruises on her face began to fade and the cuts knit themselves back together as the potion took effect. A moment later she winced and shook her head, opening and closing her jaw.

“Better now?” Fricassee asked. Stitch blinked a few times and nodded.

“Y-yes. As-suh-sault rifles and s-small spaces don’t m-muh-mix,” she said as she looked me up and down. She pointed a hoof at me and cast a questioning glance at Fricassee, who answered with a shrug. Her brow rose and she turned to me once more. “W-why are you a-alone?”

I quickly recounted the events of the last few minutes to her, complete with the reminder that it was their fault for leaving us watched by a robot that probably didn’t have more than a history book’s knowledge of slaving. Like Fricassee, she too relented, of which I was quite thankful for. I didn’t relish the thought of ending up like Wrecker.

“We’ll need t-to tell B-Bruiser,” she said, her ears falling. Fricassee shook her head.

“Don’t look. At me. I like. Living,” she rasped.

Oh, I bet I can tell where this is going…

Slowly, the pair looked at me.

I fucking knew it!

“No. No fucking way,” I said, pointing my hoof at them. “This is your guys’ fault. Not mine. I’m not eating a bullet for you.”

“Y-you might anyway,” Stitch responded with a shrug. “H-he’s already shot wuh-one slave today.”

I let out a sigh and lowered my head. Bruiser didn’t seem the type to take bad news well; what she was saying probably wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. I glanced at the duo and thought through my chances of running from them. Between the flamethrowers and the rifle I came up with a possibility of ‘Ha ha! Nope!’.

“Fine. Where is the bastard?” I asked.

“He w-went looking f-for the n-nuh-nerd,” Stitch said, gesturing down the hall with the barrel of her rifle. “Th-that way.” I trotted past the pair with a roll of my eyes. I vaguely heard the two talking as I brushed past.

“Twenty caps. Bruiser kills him,” Fricassee muttered.

“N-no bet,” Stitch replied, “C-cuz we’ll b-be next if h-he does.”

Bruiser’s trail wasn’t hard to follow. Every now and then I’d hear the roar of his cannon and simply head in that direction. I knew I was on the right track with each blasted and splattered feral corpse I stepped over or through. The hallway led to a large, open chamber at the heart of which stood the bones of a great and terrifying beast held aloft with wire and metal. It was massive, easily capable of swallowing up a pony in one go, and, given the mouth full of conical teeth, getting swallowed whole would’ve been better than the alternative. Hanging from the rafters around it were faded and tattered banners, their proclamations lost to the ravages of time. Around the edges of the room were smaller display cases, shattered and broken, their contents destroyed or looted long ago. Three separate paths branched from the rotunda.

I stopped beneath the skeletal beast and waited, expecting to hear Bruiser’s pistol fire off again shortly. When I did, the sound echoed through the chamber. Despite my best effort, I could not figure out which of the three corridors it had come from. I waited through three more shots and then blew out a lungful of air.

“Well that’s just perfect…” I muttered, glancing around. I was debating choosing at random when I felt something akin to an ice cold hoof being drawn slowly down the length of my spine. I tensed and spun around, expecting to see something there, but there was nothing. I glanced around nervously, and then up at the bones that hung well over my head.

“Right… it’s just… this place is all. Must be some kind of old air system that's busted…” I muttered with a shake of my head. A furtive glance upward proved that untrue. The tattered banners were still, the perfect addition to the tomb that surrounded the heavy bones of the beast.

...over here…

I tensed and swallowed the lump of fear in my throat. The voice had been low and breathy, almost as though it had been whispered right into my ear. I slowly craned my neck and glanced over my shoulder.

Nothing.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, pressing a hoof against it. Maybe I was going mad. Clearly something was off. Why else would I have stayed instead of escaping with the others? I thought of Jerry escaping to freedom and living out her days in some quiet settlement. I wanted so badly to be with her for those days. And yet… something was compelling me to stay; something that now had a voice.

Slowly, I opened my eyes again, praying there would be nothing there. I found myself looking down one of the branching corridors, an empty corridor, and let out a sigh of relief. Still, I felt something tugging at me, beckoning me further. Despite my growing apprehension, I complied. As far as I could tell, there was nothing particularly special about this corridor. There were some more displays, though these bore crude and hastily scrawled messages in faded paint. I read them as I trotted closer. ‘The End Is The Here!’ proclaimed one. ‘Fuck the Zebras!’ stated another in the same hasty script. Judging by the broken and empty displays beneath each message, I figured the hastily scrawled writing wasn’t the author’s sole purpose for being here.

...this way…

My ears twitched and I glanced further down the corridor. I chewed my bottom lip and looked back briefly. “This is going to get my dumb ass killed…” I muttered as I slowly continued down the corridor. It ended quickly at a door marked ‘Authorized Ponies Only’. The latch was broken off; the door left open a crack. Beyond it was a descending stairwell.

...you are needed, Free…

My heart pounded in my chest as I took the stairwell deeper. Whoever… whatever was talking to me, was using my name. Again my thoughts turned to madness. Perhaps I’d lost myself and was becoming as psychotic as a raider. I licked my lips and dared to respond, if only a little.

“Wh-who are you?” I whispered.

...everything…nothing....

Great, now the voices were answering me. That can’t be a sign of anything good. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I stopped and took in my surroundings. Down here it was dark and humid. It stank of mold, mildew, and dust. From somewhere nearby I could hear a constant trickling of water hitting the floor. There were no display cases down here, just empty hallways with doors leading into different rooms. There was something else too. A sound all too familiar.

The sound of ponies working.

“Why should I trust you?” I muttered as I crept in the direction of the noise. Once again the hallway ended at a door marked ‘Authorized Ponies Only’. The sounds of a half dozen tools coming from within.

...because we trust you…

We? Great… I’m crazier than I thought. There were apparently multiple disembodied voices talking to me.

I pressed a hoof against the door and pushed it open a crack. The noise of exhausted breathing and metal striking stone spiked sharply. The room appeared half finished, with a concrete floor that ended abruptly in an earthen pit. Just below the lip of the pit was a half broken statue of a winged pony, its head conspicuously missing. Beyond that were three large, rectangular stones half buried in the ground. A dozen ponies labored furiously with picks, shovels, and bare hooves; exhaustively attempting to get through solid rock. I recognized the leather barding of one of them. I’d seen a hoof-ful of slavers around The Dig in similar armor. I’d found Cutthroat. She scraped her hooves at the loose scree, brushing it out of the way as one of the others, a slave judging by the whipping scars, hurriedly stabbed at the stone with a rusting and very damaged shovel. At the center of the group, a pickaxe clenched in his teeth was Dig Deep, aggressively hacking at the stone like he was attempting to kill it.

“What the f-” I whispered as I took a couple steps back and bumped into something armored and so very angry. I felt a pistol barrel jab roughly into my temple as I tried to look over my shoulder.

“What the fuck are you doing down here, slave?!” barked Bruiser.

“Bruiser! Shhh, there’s-” I breathed. Bruiser brought his pistol down hard against my head with a loud crack. My vision dimmed and I went down to my knees.

“Shut your goddess-damned mouth! What the fuck are you doing down here? Where are the others?” he barked again. I blinked rapidly until things regained their sharpness and then I twisted to look up at him.

“Bruiser! Shut the fuck up! They’ll hear-”

Why is it suddenly so quiet?

My throat suddenly stuck as I watched Bruiser’s eyes narrow, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was staring at the door to the dig site. The door that now stood open, and all dozen ponies stood staring at us. Dig Deep and Cutthroat stood at the center, looking us over with half-lidded eyes. Bruiser’s eyes darted between the pair and his gun dipped slightly. Up close the group stank up sweat, piss and shit. Their flesh was drawn tight across their sides and along their ribs and cheeks. None of them blinked.

“Cutty, you stupid bitch. Where have you been?” Bruiser asked, his voice wavering just a bit. I slowly got to my hooves, blood dripping down my temple, and stood next to Bruiser. He made no move to stop me this time. Even he could sense something was wrong.

“You both look big and strong…” someone in the back said flatly.

“What?” Bruiser asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“Mmmm yes, you’ll both do nicely,” Dig Deep added as one by one the group took a step forward. Bruiser and I took one back.

“Cutty?” Bruiser asked, his pistol raising slightly. The mare’s eyes narrowed into a scowl.

“Get them!” she barked. Three ponies rushed forward to close the gap, their hooves outstretched. The two of us backpedaled, putting some distance between us and the group we were supposed to be rescuing. Bruiser’s pistol roared and a green pony’s head burst apart in a spray of jellied brain and blood. The body collapsed to the floor in a twitching heap. The other two stepped over it as if it was simply scattered trash, causing us to back up further. Too late I noticed we’d backed up past the stairs I’d descended a moment ago. Panic began to take over my mind and my eyes darted to Bruiser, the others, and my surroundings as my mind raced to figure out a course of action.

“You sons of bitches want some of me?!” Bruiser roared. His pistol barked again, a great bloody rent appearing in the shoulder of the nearest pony. She tumbled to the floor, landing face first with a loud thwack. Slowly, she stood up, favoring her uninjured side and continued forward.

“Bruiser!” I called, my voice tight with urgency.

“What?!” He asked as he snapped off another shot that punched into a mare’s belly with a spray of crimson but little effect.

“BRUISER!” I shouted louder. Finally, he turned to me.

“WHAT?!” he shouted.

“RUN!” I turned and galloped at full speed down the corridor, passing the stairs that I knew would take me back up. My heart was pounding and each thump within my chest caused lights to dance in front of my eyes. There were more gunshots but I didn’t bother looking to see if Bruiser was following me. Either way I didn’t care. Something was decidedly off about Cutthroat and her ponies. They had looked malnourished and exhausted, but still they’d kept digging at those stones.

I shook my head. There would be time enough to think about that nonsense later. Right now I was done. Done with Bruiser. Done with this place. Done with being a slave. I skidded to a stop as I spotted a sign for a stairwell next to a door. A quick test of the handle showed it to be locked. I spun in place and lashed out with as strong a kick as I could muster. The door was ancient, but steel ages well. My kick rattled the door on its hinges and left a large dent in its surface. I could hear the thundering of hooves coming down the corridor, punctuated by the bark of Bruiser’s gun.

“C’mon! C’mon!” I hissed as I kicked out again. Rusting screws ripped from the wall as the door bowed in the middle. I cast a quick glance back the way I’d come from just in time to see Bruiser come bolting around the corner.

“Get the damn door open!” he screamed as he blindly fired behind him.

“Fuck you! I’m trying!” I shouted back as I struck out one more time. The door staved in and the hinges tore completely from the wall as the whole assembly clattered noisily to the floor. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as the path to freedom stood open. Then Bruiser’s bulky frame obscured it as he moved into the newly opened door.

“Stall them,” he said.

‘Stall them? Wh-”

Pain. A spear of crystalline agony lanced through me as I toppled to the floor. Blood spurted from the new hole punched in my right foreleg as I screamed. Bruiser’s smoking pistol rose into view as he sneered at me and turned away.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” I screamed after him. Gritting my teeth, I folded my injured leg against my chest as tight as I could manage, and struggled to my hooves. Each and every movement I made sent a shock of pain through me as my blood shot from the wound in time with my pounding heart. I staggered slowly up the stairs as darkness began to creep along the edges of my vision. I made it to the first landing and slumped against the wall. I looked down at the floor and stared at the rapidly growing trail of blood I was leaving in my wake. “Ffffuck…” I muttered as I pushed myself to continue. I heard the ponies coming closer, their hoofsteps growing louder in my ears until it sounded like they were right on top of me.

C’mon! Jerry’s waiting for you, you dumb bastard… You just gotta move…

“I… I’m getting out… of this shhhhhit hole…” I muttered as I staggered up the next set of stairs. If felt like I was slogging through knee deep sludge, each step taking a monumental effort. A door stood between me and the first floor, but judging by the smoking lock, Bruiser had taken care of it for me. I reached out to push it open, and fell against it. I spilled out into the corridor and could go no further. I lay on the floor, the sweat from my climb cooling my body slowly. I was just… so tired. Even lifting my head seemed impossible and my eyelids were growing heavier by the second. A blurry pair of hooves stepped into view and stopped just in front of my face.

“Pity. Find the other,” a voice said and the hooves moved away as all the sound became dull, like I’d been submerged in a pool. I tried lifting my head, but found the task far more difficult than it had any right to be. Blackness creeped further and further across my vision until it consumed it entirely.

...Not yet…It’s not time yet...

“Free!”

My eyes shot open and I drew in a deep breath. A shock of red mane and an angelic face greeted me as I slowly lifted my head.

“J-Jerry?” I muttered. Jerry looked down at me, her face a mixture of relief and growing panic. I moved my hooves beneath my body, sending an empty glass bottle spinning away, and began to stand. Jerry’s eyes widened as she looked at me. She hurriedly pressed her body to my right side and helped push me to my hooves.

“Thank the Goddesses! L-lean on me! C’mon, we’ve got to move! I think they’re coming back,” she said hurriedly. I leaned on her and she grunted with the added weight as, together, we staggered down the hall. “What happened to you? Who shot you?” she asked, her eyes darting back and forth, scanning for something.

“Found the bookworm. A-and the missing team. They were working on the dig site the robot mentioned. They attacked us and Bruiser shot me so he could get away,” I hissed through clenched teeth. I glanced down at the wound in my leg, the flowing blood had stanched, becoming a lazy trickle and a shadow of its previous grievousness.

“What? Why?” she asked. Suddenly her ears perked up and she started to push harder against me. “Free, get in there!” she grunted as we veered into a bathroom. The door creaked open and we were both assailed by the pungent scent of mildew. Sickly, green-brown fuzz coated the walls and fallen tiles and debris littered the floor. Jerry looked around in worry and she glanced at my gunshot. She waited a moment, her ears flitting back and forth for several seconds before she exhaled slowly. “H-here, lean against the wall a minute,” she said as she tipped me against wall. I nodded and kept my bloodied limb curled up against me as she hurriedly rushed around the room.

“What’re you still doing here?” I asked. She paused momentarily, fixing me with a strange look, before shaking it off and resuming her search.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she ran her hoof through a pile of broken wall tiles on the floor.

“I mean, why didn’t you run? You were free and Fortune’s too cheap for exploding collars…”

A snort and a roll of her eyes was her response. She brushed aside more tiles and squealed cheerfully as she uncovered a small metal box with faded yellow paint and a generous helping of rust. A few well-placed smacks with a piece of tile and she managed to open it.

“Aha! Perfect!” she said as she buried her face into the box and deftly removed a small glass bottle with her teeth. She sauntered over, gripped the bottle between her hooves and pulled the cork free before spitting it aside. “Here,” she said, offering the potion to me, “Drink this.” Before I could respond she practically shoved the bottle into my mouth. I choked down the healing potion and relaxed my leg as the wound puckered closed and then disappeared completely. I gave it a few test movements before deciding it was safe to put weight back on it. I spat out the bottle and caught it in my hooves.

“Thanks, Jerry. But you should really save a healing potion for yourself rather than give them all to me,” I said, as I tossed the empty bottle aside. Jerry fixed me with a strange look.

“I didn’t,” she said with a shrug. “I only found the one.” I gave her a quizzical look back and then shrugged it off. There would be time enough to ponder it when we weren’t up to our assholes in ferals, slavers and… crazed slavers? What is going on with Cutthroat and her people? I shook my head again. Later.

“Why are you still here?” I asked again, and once again Jerry rolled her eyes.

“We’re family, Free. I’m not going anywhere without you,” she said, offering me a warm smile. It was infectious and quickly affected my features as well. I reached out and nudged her with a hoof.

“Well, thanks for that. I’m pretty sure I nearly bought it there,” I said, glancing down at where my gunshot had been. “But now we need to get out of here. It’s only a matter of time before something unpleasant finds us.” I moved over to the door and opened it a crack to peer into the hallway. I quickly spied the trail of blood I had left in my wake that ended where I’d collapsed. With no trouble in immediate sight, I pushed open the door and stepped quietly into the hallway. “Which way is out?” I asked as Jerry moved up beside me.

“Not the way we came in. The ferals are swarming it. Apparently this place is just crawling with them,” she replied as she glanced to her right. “I came from that way, so,” she said turning to look past me to the left, “That’s the way we should go.”

“Good enough for me,” I said with a shrug. This part of the museum was in shambles. Display cases lay in splinters under fallen masonry from the ceiling. Further down the hall, a large metal box had dropped through several floors and embedded itself in this one. I cast a quick glance upward as I drew near, spying the gray cloudy sky beyond. It had been in its new resting place long enough that a grey-green fuzz had sprouted from cracks in the floor. Jerry came up alongside me and peered up as well.

“Well, I suppose we could sprout wings and fly out,” Jerry said softly. I rolled my eyes and pressed on. “What? C’mon, it wasn’t that bad a joke!” she added as she followed after me.

“You’re right, but now’s not the time for jokes,” I said as I looked for anything that might, even remotely, be a way out.

The deeper we went into the museum, the worse it became. The lights flickered, threatening to finally die after two centuries. The floor, which I had thought to have been carpeted was just grimy, mold-covered tile. An ancient tapestry, once protected by a thick layer of glass, was little more than a tattered mess of decay and pulp. A case purported to contain gemstones from all across Equestria was smashed open, its contents long since taken.

Worst of all were the dead.

There had to be at least fifty skeletons all along this stretch of the museum. The further we went, the more we saw. To our right, the skeleton of a unicorn slumped against the wall, its head raised up towards the ceiling. I stared at it for a moment, wondering what the last moments of the poor soul had been like. Judging by the piece of rebar running through the ribcage and the notches it left on its way through, I’d guess poor. On the left, a pair lay curled up near a rusting water fountain, their limbs entwined as they held each other as their time came. A trio lay in the middle of the hall, between them lay two empty plastic packets that I’d seen Doc give to ponies when the radiation made them sick.

I glanced around at the other bodies again. Most of them had similar empty packets near them. “These must be the ponies who didn’t become ferals…” I whispered, more to myself than to Jerry. When she didn’t respond I looked in her direction.

She stood stock still, staring wide eyed at a bench tucked into a small alcove. The diminutive frame of a foal lay curled up beneath it. One leg clutching an empty packet close, the other reaching for a moldy old stuffed bear that had been just out of reach. My heart ached just seeing it.

“We should keep moving. This place is giving me the creeps.” I said softly. Jerry stepped closer to the foal’s outstretched limb and sat on the floor. She sniffled, tears running down her cheeks as she gently pushed the stuffed bear closer.

“Here you go little one,” she whispered. She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. “You’re right. We need to get out of here.” She stood and trotted past me as quickly as she could. I cast one last glance at the graveyard, and followed after her. We needed to find an exit.

Footnote: Level Up!

New Perk: Not Today -- Through magical or mundane means you have survived a brief bout with death. You gain an additional 10% damage reduction.

Chapter 3: Broken Chains

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“I suppose slavery is just a balance of power. Those with the power hold sway over those without. But power is fickle, and if the scales tip ever so slightly, then the slaves won’t be anymore.” - Doc to a young Free

“This place is a maze,” I said, breaking the hushed silence that had fallen over us for the past several minutes, “It shouldn’t be this hard to find an exit!” Jerry nodded wordlessly, her mind still clearly wrapped up with the foal we’d seen before. I exhaled slowly. Clearly something about it had struck her deeply. It wasn’t just the death. We’ve seen that in various forms throughout our lives. I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice caught as she spoke first.

“We need to find the back of this place,” she said. I glanced in her direction, then around us.

“I’m not even sure where we are now… I got a little turned around,” I said, rubbing a hoof across the back of my head. “What’s in the back?” Jerry gave me a pitying look. “What? First time outside The Dig, remember?”

“Buildings like this usually have some sort of… loading area,” she said with a sigh, trying to explain it as it had been to her. “That’s where they would bring in big trucks full of stuff and off load it. I guess it was so they didn’t bother everypony in the front.”

“Okay,” Free said, glancing around. “Keep your eyes open for any halls without displays.”

“Why without displays?”

“You only put displays where you expect ponies that aren’t there to work to go. Loading areas are for work,” I said as I drew to a stop next to a set of doors marked ‘Authorized Ponies Only’. I reached out a hoof, pushed it open and stared down a bare corridor. “See?”

“Now you’re just trying to upstage me,” Jerry said.

“I have to be good for something, right?” I said with a defiant smirk. She rolled her eyes, ducked her head under my leg, and started down the corridor. I followed behind a pace, glancing at the offices on either side of the hall. Each wall had an inset piece of glass that offered a view of the interior. Most looked bare. They had metal shelves that held various items like pots or bones or sometimes even rocks. Near those shelves were large metal tables that had an array of tools left to gather rust and dust and a copious amount of movement space around them and between the shelves. They didn’t look like offices at all but like some sort of… workshop I guess. Despite Bruiser’s dickish response to Daydream, it did seem like the old world’s version of scavenging, just with a different reason behind it.

“Hey Free?” Jerry called. I shook my head and looked down the hall. Jerry stood at the far end, waving me over before she disappeared into one of the offices. I trotted over and poked my head into the door.

Now this looked like an office, at least if Doc’s was any indication. There were faded photos on the wall and the desk had a generous collection of knick knacks scattered across its surface. A thick layer of dust had formed on every surface, causing the whole room to appear drab. Jerry stood behind the desk looking strangely at the terminal. I stepped around the desk and saw what held her attention.

On the screen was a young teal mare with a neatly done up mane in darker hues of blue. Her mouth was moving and she appeared to be talking very excitedly about something.

“I can’t believe this is still working!” she said excitedly, “We should find Bruiser, he’ll definitely-” I stared at her incredulously until it dawned on her. “Oh… right… we’re escaping…” she said, casting her eyes towards the floor. I smiled and looked back at the computer. On the desk next to it was a little box that looked very similar to the one Doc spoke out, but with a button on the top. I reached out a hoof and gave it a press and the mare’s voice cut through the quiet.

“...elieve it!? An archeological find right under our very hooves! And they chose me, that’s right, ME! To do the sample collection and initial research! Isn’t that amazing?! I-I-I mean I was absolutely floored when they put my spiny-backed ponysaurus on display in the central rotunda, but now they have me heading my own project!” The mare was practically bouncing in her seat. She clapped her hooves together and beamed at the screen. “Anyway, I’m rambling. We start the groundbreaking next week! I can’t wait to see you both at the ceremony! I love you guys so much!”

The video froze a moment and then picked back up again. It was the same mare only she looked tired, like she hadn’t slept in a few nights and her mane was a mess.

“Ugh… I’m so, so tired… The curator has me working around the clock on the dig site in the basement. It’s much larger than we thought it was. Definitely larger than the house we predicted. Also it’s a bit… weird. The, uh, the sediment is much more compacted than it should be… It’s blunted or broken all of our picks and I’m about this close,” she said, holding up her hooves to indicate just how close, “to asking for jackhammers. Ugh, this is way harder than digging up bones in the backyard when I was a filly. Mom, dad, I can’t wait til you get here. It’ll help me take my mind off my crazy hectic schedule. See you tomorrow.” she waved sleepily at the screen before it cut to black. A few seconds later the screen lit up again and she was back to her previous exuberant self as the first video played again. I tapped the button again and the sound cut out, leaving the place quiet as a tomb.

“Do you think…” Jerry started, but let her voice trail off. She looked at me sadly before continuing. “Do you think she was here when the Balefire Bombs fell?” I smiled sadly and shrugged.

“I don’t know, Jerry. But best not to think about it,” I said as I nudged her towards the door. “C’mon. Let’s find an exit and get out of this place.” Jerry nodded and slipped back into the hallway and I followed quietly behind. Jerry had planted the seed though, and as we stalked through the empty halls I began to wonder if the mare been here when the world ended. I hoped her body wasn’t amongst those that had curled up not too far from here.

Suddenly I bumped into Jerry, who had come to a stop at the end of the hallway. I flushed and backed up a couple of steps.

“S-sorry! I was-”

“Shut. Up.” came a rasping voice. I tensed, feeling sweat begin to bead on my brow. The room we’d come up to was large and full of shelves. Standing just inside the room was Fricassee, her flamethrowers trained on us. She looked terrible. One of her goggles had been broken and a violet eye darted nervously between the two of us. I stepped up beside Jerry, stuck a leg out and pushed her behind me.

“Fricassee…” I said. Her eyes locked on me and she lowered her head without breaking eye contact.

“Where’s. Bruiser?” she rasped.

“Fuck if I know,” I said. Fricassee took a step forward.

“You were. Supposed. To find. Him!” she choked, her breather struggling to keep up with her heart rate.

“I did. And the piece of shit shot me for all my trouble,” I growled. She tensed and for a brief horrid moment I could feel the flames washing over me and Jerry. Then she looked away, her eyes wide with panic.

“Something’s. Not right. Here,” she said a she stepped closer, “I’m. Leaving. You should. Too.” The pilots on her flamethrowers didn’t extinguish, but she marched past us without another word. Jerry and I watched her as she stalked back the way we’d come. It sounded like she was muttering to herself but between her breather and the low volume I couldn’t make out a single word. Jerry watched her a moment longer and then turned to me.

“Did… did she just… let us escape?” she asked as she voiced the thoughts I was having, confusion plainly written all over her face.

“Let’s find that exit before she finds her senses…” I muttered.

I turned around and felt my blood run cold. Standing where Fricassee had been a moment earlier was the bookworm flanked by two stallions from the dig site. I backpedaled and bumped into Jerry and caused her to stumble. She caught herself and spun on me.

“Hey! What’s-” she started saying. Her voice fell away when she saw what I was looking at. Dig Deep stared at us, his eyes narrowing slowly. He stood stock still, a strange sight since most of my interaction with him involved him tapping away at that… what’d Bruiser call it? His pip-buck?

“It’s you,” he said flatly. “I thought you had died.”

“Jerry… Back. Up.” I said through gritted teeth. Together we started to backpedal. Dig Deep stood still, his face scrunched up as if he was attempting to figure something out. After a long moment he shrugged and took a step towards us.

“No matter. You are still fit. As is she. You will both be quite useful,” he said.

“Uhhh… no thanks. We have plans of our own,” Jerry said from over my shoulder. Dig Deep scowled and took another step forward. His compatriots moved forward with more purpose, theirs heads lowering and their eyes narrowing as they drew closer.

“I’m afraid your plans are secondary to my own,” he said. Suddenly Jerry shrieked and threw her hooves around my neck.

“Let go! Let go of me!” she screamed. I turned and saw one of the ponies from before, complete with bullet wound from Bruiser. Blood seeped from a ragged hole in the mare’s shoulder as she tugged on Jerry’s hind leg. Jerry lashed out with her other leg and caught the mare square in the muzzle. Blood oozed from her nostrils and she stumbled back a step shaking her head.

“You are only delaying things,” she said as she started forward again.

“You’ll see, things will be so much better once you join us,” Dig Deep said as he started forward as well. My eyes darted between them all and I placed myself between Jerry and the mare - the most immediate threat.

“I think we’ll pass,” I said loudly as I glared daggers at the mare. “As the lady said, we have other plans.”

“More’s the pity,” she said, as she lunged towards me. I reared back and brought both hooves down on the top of her skull and drove her into the floor with all my weight. There was a loud crack and the mare went still. Dig Deep drew to a stop and narrowed his eyes.

“You are proving to be quite troublesome,” he said with a low growl. “Able bodies are not easy to come by here.”

“Then leave us be! We don’t want to be slaves anymore!” Jerry shouted as she planted her hooves firmly and did her best to appear stoic. Dig Deep looked her up and down and sneered.

The two stallions galloped forward, their hooves echoing loudly in the empty corridor. I spun around, taking up position next to her as they barreled toward us. Jerry stood her ground, but her eyes betrayed her as they darted around wildly. The first stallion closed in and reared back, ready to pummel her with his forehooves. He was big, but I was bigger. I launched forward, ramming my shoulder into his chest. I lifted him off his hooves and drove him into the ground like a railroad spike. The air whooshed out of his lungs and left him gasping on the floor.

I stood just in time to be knocked flat by the other stallion. I quickly brought my forelegs up, protecting my face as he proceeded to rain blow after blow upon me. “Stop. Making. This. Difficult!” he barked between blows. I twisted and rolled, trying both to get free and shield myself from the stallion’s hail of blows.

“Hey!” Jerry’s voice rang out. The stallion stopped and looked up as she planted both feet in his face with a powerful buck. He fell backwards, his muzzle bleeding and his jaw knocked back into his throat. He grasped feebly at his ruined face as he gurgled and choked on his own blood. Jerry’s eyes were wide but she tore her gaze from the stallion and looked down at me, worry plain on her face. I rolled to my hooves and started to stand again when the other stallion leapt on my back. He tightened his forelegs around my throat and brought his mouth close to my ear.

“You are beginning to damage my calm!” he hissed as he tightened his hold on my throat. There’s a level of panic that sets in when you go to take a breath and can’t. I was instantly on my hooves, trying to shake my assailant loose. Jerry stood on her hind legs, grabbed a mouthful of the stallion’s mane and tried her level best to pull him off. She only succeeded in choking me worse.

I pushed her back as the black began to creep in from around the edges of my vision again. Twice in one day was too much for my liking. I bucked hard and felt the stallion’s body separate from mine and his grip loosen just long enough for me to get a short breath before he secured his grip and hooked his rear hooves into my stomach. I staggered towards the wall as Jerry shouted something, but her voice was drowned out by my impending unconsciousness.

I threw myself bodily against the wall. My head banged off it hard and set my vision swimming, but I’d also just slammed my body weight against the right limbs of my attacker.

C’mon you bastard! I screamed mentally as I reared back and launched myself at the wall again. I heard the stallion grunt and his grip loosen ever so slightly. I took a step forward and slammed into the wall again. This time there was a cracking noise. The blackness was almost complete. I had, at most, one more attempt before he won and I blacked out. I staggered forward one step. Then two. And with the last remaining vestiges of my strength I leapt backwards.

The window leading to one of the work rooms shattered as I forced my attacker and myself through it. We landed on a metal table, bounced from it to the floor and landed in a heap. The stallion’s grip failed and I coughed as I hungrily sucked in lungfuls of air.

“Oh Goddesses! Free!” Jerry shrieked as she scrabbled through the broken window. She dropped off the table and knelt by my side, her eyes wide and darting back and forth. “You’re bleeding? Where are you hurt?” she asked as she pressed her hooves on my chest to keep me from moving. I brushed her hooves aside and rolled to mine.

“‘M fine,” I croaked as I stood up. I glanced down at the still form of my attacker. A rapidly spreading pool of blood oozed out from beneath him. He took short, rasping breaths that grew shallower as we watched until they stopped altogether.

“You are… REALLY beginning to irk me!”

Jerry and I spun around and saw Dig Deep standing on the opposite side of the window, giving us the evil eye. He trotted forward and Jerry and I tensed as he drew to a stop in front of us. He was quiet for a moment as his eyes scanned me top to bottom. His eyes widened briefly and then a smile slowly drew across his face. He raised his hoof and pointed it at me. There was a strange silver stain on it, like he’d stepped in something.

“I see. I will be seeing you again soon enough,” he said. He nodded and trotted away down the hall without another word. Jerry and I watched him silently.

“What the hell was that about?” she asked me. I shrugged

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” I muttered as I looked down at the dead stallion at my feet. “C’mon, this place is really starting to bother me.”

It was another hour before we managed to find what I can only describe as a warehouse. The massive room would’ve been pitch black if not for the ravages of time. Support beams that had been diligently holding the ceiling up had rusted and collapsed leaving large holes through which the wan light filtered through. Rows and rows of metal racks had rusted and collapsed, burying or destroying what they once held. It stank of mildew and decay and with each step we kicked up a small flurry of dust that lent itself to the cloying scent.

“Well… we’re in the back. Now what?” I asked as I looked at Jerry. She looked around, peering into the shadows and chewed her bottom lip.

“There’s usually a door or two back here that we can use,” she said nervously as she started down one of the rows. “You check over there somewhere, Free.” I nodded and continued along my current heading.

The stacks groaned and creaked under their own weight, threatening to come toppling down at any moment. My heart began to pound at the sounds as they danced across long buried memories. Memories of a dark room, a terrified foal and a dying mare’s last words.

I shook my head and took a deep, calming breath. “My past is not today,” I whispered. “My past is not today.” The words helped, though the concrete floor underhoof was much more helpful. I tried to focus on anything but the creaking of rusting stacks and the groan of a ceiling on the verge of collapse. Not wanting to think about the past, I occupied my mind with the future and what it could hold.

A life in the wasteland. A life with her. I hoped against hope that such a future was possible. A smile crossed my face as I imagined a little home for us. A plot of land in a safe area where we could farm and just live our lives. A family.

“I found a door!” Jerry called out. I shook my head as my dreams retreated to my subconscious.

“Coming!” I called back as I navigated in the direction of her voice. I was thankful for her snapping me from my reverie. As wonderful as dreams are, they are not a place to live.

I found Jerry standing before a duo of large steel shutters. Between them was the softly glowing screen of a terminal. Jerry trotted over to it and tapped a few keys. She was quiet for a minute or two and then let out an exasperated sigh.

“Its locked, and I don’t know enough about terminals to try and hack it,” she said as she backed away and looked up at the looming doors. I moved to sit next to her as she worked over our situation in her mind.

“You…”

The voice dripped with venom and malice. I felt panic crawl along my spine painfully slow as I turned around. Bruiser stood several feet away, his pistol held aloft in magic field. His eyes were narrowed, bloodshot and so very focused on my throat.

“This… ALL of this…” he said, gesturing at me with the gun, “Is your fault…” I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat, keeping my eyes locked on the stallion as he approached. He bled from a dozen small scrapes and scratches along his legs and face. His previously spotless armor now scuffed, dented and rent.

“H-How do you figure that?” I asked, inwardly cursing the hesitation in my voice. Bruiser sneered and stomped forward another step. His gun drifted lazily between me and Jerry, as if he was trying to decide who would die first.

“This is my fiftieth outing this year alone…” he said, “I’ve been doing this since I was a colt. And it never went as poorly until… you… showed up.” The gun drifted back to me.

“Shitty things happen to shitty ponies!” I said, taking a step forward. Jerry reached a hoof out for me, but I brushed past it. I’d be damned if I let him hurt her. “So you were overdue! Doesn’t make it my fault!” As I drew closer I could see madness in Bruiser’s eyes. The pistol levitated forward and pressed right against my forehead.

“Maybe not, but I’m betting it’ll be cathartic to blow your brains out of your fucking head all the same,” he hissed through clenched teeth. I could hear the mechanisms of the pistol click as he slowly worked the trigger with his magic.

My mind was racing. If I didn’t act quickly he would kill me and then likely kill Jerry. I steeled myself and shouted the first thing that came to mind.

“What’s the matter, Bruiser?” I sneered, pushing all my bravado into my next few words. “Afraid to fight me?”

The clicking stopped and Bruiser’s brow rose. “What’d you say?” he said calmly.

“You heard me! Big tough stallion with your gun aimed at a pony’s head! Take it away and I bet you’re nothing but a goddess-damned coward!” I said, taking another step forward and narrowing the gap between us to just a few feet. His jaw was set and his teeth were bared as I stared past the gun pressed to my forehead.

“I’m not afraid of you!” he roared, his voice echoing throughout the warehouse. “I’m not afraid of anypony!” He looked past me at Jerry. It lasted only a second, but it was enough.

I charged forward, reaching a hoof up to bat the pistol aside. His magic field popped and his eyes widened as I closed the distance between us. I lowered my head and hit him like a runaway wagon. He reared and we slid back several feet until his hooves found purchase and stopped us in our tracks.

Hammer blows immediately smashed into my back as he beat his hooves on my spine. I shoved him away, spun in place and lashed out with a lightning fast one-two buck. He took both to the chest, his armor denting with each hit.

It didn’t slow him down in the least. He was immediately on me again, hammering me with strikes I couldn’t even begin to block. I’d picked up some 'fighting' in The Dig, if you could even call it that. I mostly just used my size and strength to knock a few heads together to keep me and Jerry safe. It was nothing compared to this.

He landed a blow above my right eye and left a jagged cut as a souvenir. I staggered back, trying futilely to wipe the blood away so I could see. He was on me instantly, attacking on my blinded side. He landed two more hits before I could even raise a foreleg to block. When I did, he hooked his hooves around my leg and pulled. I stumbled forward and then off my hooves as he twisted and threw me bodily into a shelf.

For centuries old rusted metal, it held up far better than I was expecting. The supports bent inward as I slammed into them back first and then fell to the floor. I screamed, I’m sure of it. I pushed myself up as quickly as I could, but Bruiser was already there. He reared back and stomped on my back, forcing me back down. For a brief and terrible second my hind legs went numb.

“Not so mouthy now, are ya?! Ya little fuck!” Bruiser shouted as he put a hoof on the back of my head and drove my face into the floor. I could taste blood in my mouth. He took hold of my mane with his magic and lifted my head, only to bash me in the face with his hoof. “You ruined everything!” he howled as he tugged my head back up and struck me again. Blood spilled from my split lip. I could feel it beginning to swell. I looked at my blood spattered across the concrete floor and the thick stream of it that dribbled from my mouth. Bruiser put his hoof on the back of my head and slowly leaned his weight forward. “You know the best part about puttin’ down uppity slaves?” he asked. I grit my teeth, feeling the pressure increasing with each passing moment. “The sounds you make as your skull cracks underhoof.”

“Leave him alone!” Jerry shouted. Bruiser’s hoof moved and I lifted my head in time to see Jerry throwing herself onto Bruiser’s back. She bit down on a mouthful of his mane and locked her hooves around his throat. He backed away, shaking as he tried to throw her off. I fought to my hooves, my eyes locked on Bruiser as he struggled to dislodge Jerry.

“Get offa me!” he roared as he reared and threw himself back into another shelf. Jerry screamed, releasing her hold on his mane and he quickly leaned forward and slammed her against the shelf again. This time when he pulled away, Jerry slid to the floor unconscious. Bruiser turned and stared down at her prone form. “Stupid bitch,” he muttered.

“Get… away from her!” I growled as I took an uneven step towards him. Bruiser glanced over his shoulder at me and flashed me a wicked grin.

“I see… you got a thing for the redhead, don’t’cha?” he hissed. My withering glare was my only response. His grin became a full-fledged smile and he placed his hoof on Jerry’s head. He stared at me as he gradually leaned his weight onto her. Jerry’s hooves scratched at the pavement and she let out a pained whimpered.

“That’s enough!” I shouted and dashed forward, ignoring the ache in my back. Bruiser laughed as he turned to face me, a devilish smile on his face. He stepped forward, ready to fight some more. My vision was tinted red, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the cut above my eye or from my rage. He reared back and I barreled into his midsection. Before he could strike at my back again I shifted lower and lifted him off the floor as I charged forward. He fell across my back, and struggled to get enough leverage to strike a blow as I carried him past Jerry’s prone form.

We hit some kind of crate first. Wood cracked and splinters dug into my hide as I forced Bruiser through it. Straw and something metal scattered underhoof as I pushed myself harder, eking out as much speed as I could from my legs.

“You ffffffuck!” Bruiser hissed. Something sharp jabbed deep into my side. I could feel my blood spill but did my best to ignore it as I continued my charge. The rusting shelf we hit next offered a bit more resistance than a two hundred year old crate. We hit hard with a loud metal clang between Bruiser’s armor and the rack. I staggered away a step and let Bruiser clatter to the floor, splinters of varying sizes sticking out of his exposed hide. I twisted and spied the jagged piece of wood sticking out of my side, blood flowing down to drip onto the floor.

“You stabbed me?” I grunted as I looked at Bruiser. He groaned and unsteadily began to get to his hooves.

“Not yet, but it’s a damn fine idea…” he muttered as we slowly started to circle.

“You can try,” I hissed, “but I’m pretty done with letting slavers hurt me.”

Bruiser sneered and his horn flared into life. A combat knife pulled free of a sheath fastened to Bruiser’s armor, the blade pointing at me.

“You got some fight in ya, huh?” he asked, the blade tracing a slow figure eight in the air. “When I’m done cuttin’ ya to ribbons, I’m gonna do the same to that red-maned slut in the other room. Then I’ll hunt down the others and force-feed them your remains before dragging them back to Zero for punishment.”

“That plan hinges on you still being alive after this,” I said. “And if it’s the last thing I do, I will make sure you never hurt anypony again.”

With an inarticulate growl Bruiser launched himself forward. His knife pitched to the right and slashed sharply to the left, looking to spill my innards in one swift move. I backpedaled, the tip of his blade cutting a shallow groove in my chest. He immediately followed it up by ramming his armored shoulder into me, driving me back further and sending a wave of pain through my wound.

Bruiser pulled back, smirking. He knew he had the upper hoof. But I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me back down. I stood up straighter and scraped my hoof across the floor, readying myself for the charge. Two pony-lengths away Bruiser did the same, his knife hanging in the air between us. My blood glistening along its edge.

Together we charged, each of us bellowing a war cry to bolster our resolve and strike fear into the heart of our enemy. I barreled into him, narrowly avoiding a slash that would’ve opened my throat. He reared back and both his hooves struck me in the face. I staggered back a step and Bruiser immediately twisted and planted a buck under my chin. My head snapped back and took the rest of my body with it.

I landed on my back a couple feet away, my vision swimming in and out of focus. My back ached, and I could feel at least a dozen new cuts and bruises all across it. I found myself staring up at a massive hole torn in the ceiling. Twisted bars of metal jutted from the rubble and scree I found myself on. I slowly lifted my head just as Bruiser’s hoof came down and drove it back into the stone.

“Give it up, slave,” he said, as the knife hovered closer, “You need to know when you’re beaten.” The point of the blade dipped towards my belly, dragging slowly across it and up towards my throat. I stared into his eyes and saw nothing but madness in them. I felt around blindly for something, certain that if I looked away for even a second he would cut my throat and watch me bleed to death. My hooves scraped at the debris as I felt the tip of his combat knife prick the underside of my jaw.

Then I saw her. My mother. She looked up at me, smiling. There was a sad look in her eyes. She reached up and tousled my mane.

“Be strong.” she said, her voice as soft as a whisper. “Be brave.”

I blinked and she was gone. Her smiling features suddenly replaced with Bruiser’s twisted grin. My leg darted up, smacking the knife out of Bruiser’s magic. At the same time I brought up the other and jabbed it into his throat. He staggered back a step coughing, unable to focus on retrieving the knife. I twisted and grabbed the nearest piece of twisted metal sticking out of my bed of rubble between my hooves. I pulled on the twisted metal with all my strength, my hind legs planted firmly. The bar tore free and without breaking stride I swung it in an arc, an enraged bellow escaping my lips. Bruiser’s eyes widened and locked on the large concrete block at the end of the bar an instant before it smashed into his head. I heard his skull fracture and then pulverize as the centuries old stone bashed against it. His head spun sharply and there was another sickening crunch as his neck shattered. His body dropped to the floor in a heap. I stood on my hind legs for a moment, the rebar club clutched tightly in my hooves as I panted for breath. I looked down at him, expecting him to stand and continue the fight. He simply lay there, a pathetic pained gurgling groan spilling from his lips.

I lowered the club and stared down at Bruiser. One eye looked back up at me, wide and panic-filled. The other was somewhere amidst the mass of jellied tissue that used to be the left side of his face. His blood flowed and spurted from the ruins of his head and his lips moved wordlessly. I stepped closer, his remaining eye following me. I leaned down a whispered to him.

“You were a monster, Bruiser. A beast. I can only imagine the lives you’ve ruined and the pain you’ve caused.” I spoke calmly, watching his eye carefully for any sign that he was hearing me. “Even so, I won’t let you suffer like this…” I straightened up and raised the club overhead. Bruiser’s remaining eye closed and with all my strength I brought the stone block down on his head. There was a loud wet crunch and then silence.

I let go of the club and dropped back onto my hooves. I trotted over to Jerry’s still form. A nasty purple bruise was forming along her back, one I likely shared. I sat down next to her and carefully brushed my hoof through her mane. She whimpered, shying away from my hoof.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Jerry,” I whispered to her. She relaxed and a moment later her eyes shot open and she scrambled to her hooves. Her sudden movement startled me so much that I fell backwards and stared at her as her eyes darted around.

“W-where is he?!” she asked as she looked around. “Where’s Bruiser?!”

“He’s dead,” I said. Jerry looked at me, shock plain on her face. I nodded and pointed at Bruiser’s still form, the makeshift club still firmly planted where his head had been. She made a face and turned back towards me as I got to my hooves. “Are you okay?” I asked her. She looked as though she was about to ask me something, but just as quickly it vanished.

“Y-yeah. Just kinda… hurt all over,” she muttered. She walked a few steps away and then looked back to me. “There’s gotta be a med-kit here somewhere. Let’s find it and get the hell out of here.” I started to follow her and then stopped. I looked back at Bruiser’s corpse and the weapon that had helped free me. I trotted over and lifted my liberator. If we were going to be traveling the wasteland, it was better to be armed.

Footnote: LEVEL UP!
Unique Item: Liberator -- Increased damage against Slavers

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!
Broken Chains
You’re no longer a slave, but what happens now?

Chapter 4: Ghosts of the Past

View Online

“Life is precious and should never be given up without a fight or a damn good reason.” - Unknown

It was dark and it was quiet. The hum of generators, the constant sounds of digging and the shouts of ponies were far behind us. A future I’d only dreamed of lay ahead. Jerry and I had left the museum behind as the sun had begun to set. The night grew dark before we found an abandoned shack. The door, if you could call a slab of sheet metal a door, had been bashed in but was otherwise intact. It looked as though the hinges had torn free of the rotten wood they’d been anchored in and with a little bit of effort Jerry and I managed to prop it haphazardly back into place. The interior was empty save for a trio of moldy bedrolls, a decrepit wooden table, and a footlocker that was more rust than metal at this point. The fading light filtered through the unevenly spaced boards of the walls, giving the whole place an otherworldly look.

Jerry, living up to her cutie-mark, managed to pull an old kerosene lamp out of the foot locker. She settled herself down on one of the bedrolls and fiddled with the lamp, trying to get it to light as I took up position next to her. The weapon that had been instrumental in my liberation rested between my hooves as I carefully wrapped the twisted rebar in strips of cloth torn from the spare bedroll. It was hard to believe that a hunk of literal junk would be the one thing that had been the difference between life and death. Freedom and slavery.

My Liberator.

I smirked. Sounded like a good enough name to me. Liberator. I leaned away from the handle to grab another strip of cloth and winced. I hurt all over, much like I assumed Jerry did. We’d only managed to find a few magical bandages in the warehouse and they didn’t pack nearly the same punch as a nice healing potion. I could feel several cold spots where my blood had soaked into the bandages and cooled. We ached, but we were free - free to go where and do what we wanted.

The lantern flashed and a small, flickering flame began to grow brighter within. Jerry smiled triumphantly and pushed it forward until it sat in the middle of the dirt floor, well away from anything that might catch fire. She settled herself down and stared at it quietly, her eyes unfocused. In turn, I watched her, unsure of what to say, let alone what to do. I’d dreamt of this moment for so long and now that it was here I was at a loss. I glanced down at my hooves and scraped them on the dirt floor. I took a deep breath and turned towards Jerry.

“What do we do now, Free?” she suddenly asked. My words died in my throat and I closed my mouth. Jerry looked at me, her eyes wide and shimmering in the firelight. “I… I don’t know what to do? Or where to go? How do we survive?”

My mind pored over the things I could say. I could tell her that I would protect her. Or that as long as we were together we could face any challenge no matter the odds. I could say nothing at all and kiss her… None of those things seemed like the right thing to do.

“I don’t know, Jerry,” I said after a moment. “We’ve been slaves so long, I don’t really remember much from before.”

Jerry lowered her eyes and nodded weakly. “It’s… kinda sad, isn’t it?” she muttered. I nodded in agreement and a silence fell over the two of us as the reality of our situation crept in. Somewhere in the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind was a small, terrified voice suggesting we return to The Dig. Return to those who did all the thinking for me. I closed my eyes and willed that voice silent.

Never.

“What do you know about the area?” I asked, opening my eyes and looking at Jerry again. She blinked at me, confused for a moment and then looked back towards the lantern as she thought.

“Well,” she said, pausing as her thoughts were gathered, “it’s big. There isn’t much of anything for miles around but desert and mountains. I guess even before the war this place was pretty desolate.” Jerry glanced down at the dirt floor of the shack and pressed her hoof into it. She twisted it back and forth, creating a small divot. “Let’s say this is The Dig,” she said, looking at me. I nodded and she continued, drawing a small line with the tip of her hoof to a small stone. “This stone would be the museum.”

I frowned at that. “So we’re not all that far from The Dig?”

Jerry shook her head. “No. And it won’t be long before we’re overdue. I guess they’d send somepony out to find us after that.”

“How long have we got?” I asked. Jerry shrugged and wiped her hoof across her crudely drawn map.

“A week. At most.” she said, looking back at the lantern.

A week.

A week to put as much distance between us and Fortune’s slavers as possible. With enough distance between us and them, maybe I could finally find the right time to tell her how I feel. Maybe… just maybe…

Jerry yawned as my mind raced. She lowered her head, sleepily staring at the lantern. “I wish Bucket was here,” she murmured.

I glanced over at her, watching her watch the flickering flame. I carefully reached over and brushed my hoof through her mane.

“Yeah,” I muttered quietly, “me too.” Jerry shifted a little closer and muttered something unintelligible. “Shh. Get some sleep,” I said softly. “We’ll be heading out in the morning.” She nodded weakly, already halfway there. I smiled at her and continued to stroke her mane.

Telling her would have to wait.

I opened my eyes several hours later. At least it felt like several hours. I blinked wearily and looked at the sputtering lamp sitting in the middle of the shack. It took me entirely too long to realize Jerry wasn’t by my side. I shut my eyes tight for a moment and reopened them, hoping it was some trick played upon my senses by the exhaustion, but she was still nowhere in sight.

I scrambled to my hooves, and despite the small size of the shack, looked around the interior, hoping to spy her somewhere. “Jerry?” I called. Nothing. Too much to hope for.

I galloped to the door and threw it open. Immediately a hoof smashed into my face, driving me backwards into the shack and onto the floor. The smell and taste of copper washed over me as blood dribbled from my nose.

“There you are, slave.” My eyes widened and I looked up. There, in the doorway, stood a zebra I knew only by voice. He looked down at me with a mixture of disdain and boredom. I started to get up but he reared back, balancing on his hind legs and gave me a quick series of jabs that left me twitching and gasping for air. With an almost unnatural grace, he lowered himself back down.

“You have made many problems for Master Fortune,” Zero said calmly, “and he has tasked me to extract reimbursement from your flesh and blood.” Behind Zero, two armored unicorns stepped into view, their weapons levitated in front of them and their features shrouded in shadow from the light spilling in behind them. “You will be returned to The Dig where your screams will serve as a reminder about what happens when you defy the master’s will.”

CLACK!

My heart stalled, skipping a beat as I looked down at my hind leg. A metal cuff was fastened around it, surrounded by hazy violet magic. A length of chain weaved around Zero and his guards and out the shack door. One of the duo turned and raised a hoof to his mouth.

“Pull him out!” he shouted. The chain slithered out the lit doorway, drew taught and raised off the floor.

“No…” I muttered as I began to slide towards the door. My heart began to thunder in my chest as Zero stepped aside, watching me impassively. “NO!” I twisted ferociously, absently aware of the flesh on my ankle once again tearing free as I scraped my hooves at the floor. “NO! GODDESSES NO!!” I screamed as I drew closer to the door. I reached out my legs, catching the edges of the frame and with a great effort, halted my progress. Zero strode over, looking at me with that damned neutral face of his.

“How did you expect this to end, slave?” he asked. I stared up at him, teeth grit and eyes wide. He calmly lifted a hoof and jabbed the toe into the meat of my shoulder. Instantly my leg went numb, I was pulled through the door…

...and fell.

I was falling. Falling into nothing. Inky blackness roiled around me as the wind rushed past. I screamed, the sound lost to the void. Then there was light. The void retreated, slithering away from the bright vibrant light. I winced and squinted, shielding my eyes from the radiance. Then I screamed again as there came a sound that threatened to split my skull apart. A high pitched keening that echoed across the emptiness. I clamped my hooves over my ears and tucked my head down, trying to shut out the noise. It pierced my whole body, making itself known no matter how loud I screamed or how tightly I covered my ears.

I jerked awake in the early morning light, gasping for air and with my heart pounding in my chest. It was raining, if the pattering on the rusting tin roof was any indication. Jerry was curled up next to me, shivering in the chilled morning air. There was a crack of thunder and the entire shack shook. I lifted a hoof and rubbed at my eye as I peered blearily around our surroundings. No sign of Zero and Jerry was sleeping silently next to me. Both good signs. The lantern’s wick was a weak smolder, its fuel burned up during the night. I sniffled, the scent of copper strong in the air. I rubbed my nose on my foreleg, smearing a ruddy streak along my grey hide. I sniffed again and shrugged. Must’ve been from my fight with Bruiser. Just another thing to remember that asshole by.

I stood slowly, doing my level best to ignore the protests of my sore muscles and barely healed wounds. My movement elicited a groan from Jerry, and she curled up a little more, fighting that waking feeling with all her might. I smiled and stepped away quietly; she could take a couple of extra minutes to herself. I carefully moved the battered door aside, stepped out into the morning air, and closed my eyes, letting the rain wash over me. This was the only nicety I had enjoyed at The Dig. Taking a moment and just savoring the cooling sensation of fresh rainfall.

After a long moment, I opened my eyes again and stared out across the muddy landscape. Despite the cloud cover, the world seemed brighter than ever, but maybe that was the bias of not waking up to the guards’ screaming obscenities and threats. As far as I could see, while deliberately avoiding looking back in the direction of the museum, was nothing. Miles of puddles and mud with the occasional pocket of brush to break it up.

“I guess any direction is good as long as it’s away…” I muttered.

“...s’not.” I turned and smiled at Jerry as she sleepily wiped at her eyes. She was sitting up in the bed, but only barely awake.

“What was that?” I asked as I walked back inside and settled down next to her again. She leaned against me and yawned.

“We gotta be careful out here. I’ve heard Bruiser warn the others about something called the ‘ee aye eff’. I’m not sure what that is. But there’s also raiders, like Wrecker, only worse,” she added.

I had heard talk about the raiders around The Dig. More than once a slaving team had gone out and come back in bits and pieces. Word would spread that they’d run afoul of this group or that tribe. A week or so later a more heavily armed team would head out. They often came back a little worse for wear, but otherwise intact, and often bearing fresh slaves. For a while after that the runs would go more-or-less smoothly until the cycle repeated.

“What about... towns? Or settlements? Do you know of any place we could go?” I asked. Jerry frowned and shook her head.

“They never talked about that sort of thing around us. It wasn’t knowledge they wanted us to have,” she said, her ears flattening. I took a deep breath, standing up to carefully settle Liberator onto my back and secured it with a sling. Jerry watched me for a moment, unsure of what she should be doing. I stepped outside and turned back to smile at her.

“If you don’t know somewhere specific to go, then we’ll just pick a direction and see what we find.” Jerry smiled, stood, and trotted out to stand next to me.

“Okay then,” she said as she peered out across the muddy landscape. After a brief moment she jabbed her hoof out and pointed. “How about that way?” I winced and looked down at her.

“That way?” I muttered. “But I wanted to go that way,” I added, pointing off in the opposite direction. Jerry narrowed her eyes at me and I cracked a grin. She smiled and jabbed her hoof into my shoulder. My mind briefly flashed to Zero’s bored look. I blinked and shook my head, forcing the thought away.

“You ass!” she said as she trotted forward, heading in the direction she’d picked. “C’mon. Jeez, give a guy his namesake and suddenly he’s all jokes.”

Jerry and I stood next to one another. We’d slogged through the mud and rain the entire day. We were tired and soaked to the bone. After a day’s trek we’d found ourselves standing beneath a rocky outcropping that jutted from the ground like a broken femur, at the center of which was a yawning dark hole that disappeared underground.

“Think it’s safe?” Jerry half-whispered. I took a tentative step forward and peered into the inky depths.

“Is anything really safe?” I asked as I glanced over my shoulder. The light was fading fast and the prospect of shelter was better than the thought of sleeping in the open and vulnerable. “C’mon, let’s see what’s down there while it’s still light enough for us to run in terror,” I said as I trotted into the cave. Jerry stared after me, her eyes wide and a little startled.

“You! You are so not funny!” she said as she followed closely behind. The cave floor was a gentle slope that sank deeper into the ground.

Thankfully none of the rain had found a way in here, or surely the entire thing would be a reeking cesspit of stagnant muck. Soon we were walking along the wall, one hoof against it as darkness crept over us. “Free, I can’t see my hoof in front of my face. L-let’s get out of here.”

I could hear the worry in her voice. It was echoed in my mind. The hushed voice telling me to turn back because it was dark and scary. But I had to ignore it, I had to press on. “This was the closest thing to shelter as far we could see. You’d prefer to sleep out in the rain?” I asked. Jerry grumbled, but said nothing. I opened my mouth to reassure her, when there was a loud pop and a shower of sparks spilled down from the cave ceiling. Jerry shrieked and in the rapidly fading light I saw her cover her mouth. From somewhere deeper in the cave came a low, mechanical rumbling. Lights that had been hanging overhead in the darkness flickered into weak life, filling the cavern with wan yellow lighting.

I blinked a few times as my eyes readjusted to the sudden light. The cave we were in ended abruptly twenty feet ahead in a squat concrete slab, in the center of which was a steel door. Speakers on either side of the door squawked and squelched a moment before cutting out entirely. Yellow warning lights ignited and began flashing in slow circles as the door shrieked and began to ratchet open, protesting loudly the entire time. Jerry leaned against me, her hooves clamped over her ears as she stared at the door.

“Free! What is going on?!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. I just shook my head and watched carefully. It took several minutes for the door to open fully and then the cave plunged into silence once more. A small, empty chamber sat beyond the door. A small control box rested on a pole at the center of the room, a large red button it’s only feature. Jerry carefully peeled her hooves from her ears and opened her mouth, working her jaw to get her ears to pop. “What the hell is this place?!” she asked, a bit too loudly. I winced and held out a hoof to her. “Oh! Sorry!” she shouted again.

I shook my head, sighed and approached the open door. The room was round in shape, save for small alcoves that were at regularly spaced intervals. I stepped into the room, expecting something to jump out at me, but save for the mechanical humming somewhere beneath us, it was quiet. Jerry peered around me and pointed a hoof at the button.

“What do you think that does?” she asked, finally at a reasonable volume. I shrugged and walked around the small raised control box that housed the button. I’d seen similar things at The Dig, usually rigged up to makeshift gates and the like.

“I dunno,” I said as I reached out to press it. Jerry’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. She darted forward and slapped my hoof away. “Ow!” I said, shaking my hoof and looking at her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she shouted.

“What? You wanted to know what it does!”

“You don’t just press a random button in a room hidden in a small cave! Who does that? That would be enormously stupid!” she said, as she reared back and shoved at me with both forehooves. It succeeded only in throwing her off balance.

“Do you want to know what it does, or not?” I asked. Jerry scowled at me.

“Not if it could cost me my life,” she said as she turned her back on me in a huff. I looked at her for a moment as my ears drooped.

“I’m sorry, J-”

My words were choked off as the whole floor lurched and the sound of metal on metal echoed through the chamber. Jerry staggered closer to me as I struggled to maintain my balance.

“I thought I said not to press the button!” she screamed at me. I vigorously shook my head.

“I… I didn’t!” I stammered as the floor lurched more violently and tossed Jerry and me from our hooves. We landed in a tangle of limbs, each struggling against the other to stand. The doors began to shriek again as they inched closed.

Jerry’s eyes bulged in their sockets and she struggled even harder. She pressed her hoof into my face, trying with all her might to get free. “Free! FREE! The door! Its closing! Get up! We have to-” she said as the doors ground closed with a resounding boom. Jerry rushed to the door and beat her hooves against the unyielding metal. The floor jerked for a third time and began to descend, the door gradually rising out of Jerry’s reach. She dropped to her rear and stared up at the door. “Well... that’s just perfect…” she muttered. I rolled to my hooves and rubbed my aching face.

“Relax, Jerry. It’s just an elevator. It’ll be fine,” I said as I stood. “We’ll just wait til this thing stops and go back up.” Jerry turned to fix me with a rather angry glare.

“How do you propose we do that?” she asked. My eyes darted around and quickly fell upon the only thing that gave me the faintest bit of hope.

“We’ll just hit the control button,” I offered, indicating the button with a hoof. Jerry looked at it and then at me.

“And if that doesn’t work?” she asked. My ears fell and I brushed my hoof across the back of my neck.

“Uhh, I guess we’ll have to look for another way out,” I muttered, not entirely convinced of my plan myself. It sounded doable. At least, I hoped it would be doable.

The elevator ground on for several more minutes before it finally screeched to a halt at its destination. The wall at the end of one of the small alcoves lit up and retracted with the hiss of escaping air. Beyond it, lights began to flicker on or explode in a shower of sparks, illuminating a narrow corridor. Jerry, all too eager NOT to go explore this opening, tapped her hoof against the control button. She waited, glancing around for some sign that it had worked. When she got none, she pressed it again.

“C’mon you stupid thing…” she hissed as she jammed her hoof against the button over and over. After several failed attempts she reared back onto her hind legs and ferociously beat her front hooves against it, all while growling like one of those feral ghouls from the museum. I turned away and slowly started down the newly opened corridor deigning it to be the safer option. It was looking more and more like option two was on the table. The air was stale, with a tang I couldn’t quite place.

Intake was stenciled onto the floor in faded yellow paint that seemed to glow in the wan lighting. From it extended a long line that lead into the next room. Curiosity got the better of me, and I followed it. This room was easily three times larger than the elevator that brought us down and was covered in a layer of dust and scattered paper that was brittle with age. I could also see the telltale droppings of radroaches. There were four long benches in pairs in the middle of the room with a series of numbers stenciled in front of each. A couple of feet in front of them was a set of thin dividing walls jutting out from the wall. Hoof prints were marked on the floor in faded yellow paint in each little cubicle, along with the words “Stand Still”. With a shrug, I poked my leg in and placed it on one of the rear hoof prints. A series of red lights set into the walls of the booth flickered to life and a grid of lasers formed. I yanked my hoof away just as the beams drew near and backed up several steps until I bumped into the bench behind me. A moment later the beams died and a small speaker crackled to life.

“Error. Improper alignment. Unable to generate measurements. Please remain on the indicator markers until the scan is completed.”

Measurements? I mouthed. I stepped back into the booth and hesitantly lined myself up on the indicated markings. I closed my eyes and hoped that these beams weren’t like the ones that came from some of the slavers’ guns. The red lights ignited and I braced myself as they traced across me. I peeked out of a barely opened eye and then sighed in relief when there was no pain. The beams traced across my body slowly and after a minute they turned off again.

“Thank you. Your barding will be complete when you finish the admissions processing.”

“Barding?” I muttered.

“Free? Where’d you go now?” Jerry called.

“Next room,” I called over my shoulder as I glanced at the door leading to the next chamber. I heard Jerry trot up behind me and turned to look at her. She was glancing around the room curiously, or perhaps warily.

“Well the elevator doesn’t want to work, so I guess we need to find that other way out you mentioned,” she said as she adjusted her mane. “What is this place?” I shrugged and gestured at the booth with a wave of my hoof.

“Beats me. But this thing just told me I’m getting barding when I complete some sort of admission process,” I muttered. Jerry glanced at it and then back at me.

“We probably shouldn’t be messing with this stuff. Goddesses only know what it’s all for,” she said as she stepped away from the booth and toward the next room. I looked between her and the booth and quickly trotted after her.

“You don’t want to try it and see if you get barding?” I asked her. She sighed dramatically and glanced back at me.

“C’mon Free, this stuff is ancient. The chances of it working are almost zip,” she said. She reached out a hoof and the door in front of her opened with a hiss and she paused. I trotted past her, looking at her as I did, a smile on my face.

“Wow. That’s some zip.”

“Oh, shut up,” she grumped, following me.

The next room was similar to the last in that it was empty and dirty. Instead of little booths with scanners in them, there were desks and chairs set up. “Please wait for your name to be called” was stenciled on the floor in the same scuffed, yellow paint. Everything appeared… intact, if a bit worse for wear. The desks were moldy, as well as the chairs, and it looked as though the upholstery had been chewed apart by radroaches. Jerry stepped through the room, looking at each of the desks with a curious look on her face. We both jumped when speakers set into the ceiling squawked.

“We’re terribly sorry. No one on the admissions team is currently available. Please wait a moment while an admissions drone is activated to assist you.”

“What’s an admissions drone?” I asked, looking up at the ceiling.

“Why, I am!” called a tinny and wholly unnatural voice. My eyes dropped from the ceiling onto the nearest desk as an orange pony rose into view from behind it, though calling it a pony would be generous. It was in a vaguely stallion-like shape with a hard plastic exterior. It moved in awkward, jerking motions and sported a permanent rictus grin. All of this was made creepier by how run down it was. The plastic was brittle and cracked. In some places it had fallen away completely and gave brief glimpses of the oily metal skeleton hidden beneath. “Hello-o-o-o there, and welcome to your new ho-o-o-ome underground.” I glanced sidelong at Jerry who was simply staring at the not-pony with a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and disgust. If the drone noticed, it didn’t react. It turned to look at Jerry and then back at me in awkward jerking motions. “How can I-I-I help you today?”

“Um…” I said. The drone turned and fixed me with its glassy, unblinking eyes. “What is this place?”

“Why, this is St-st-stable One-Two-One. The latest in Stable-Tec’s underground magical fallout shelters,” it said with the gesture of a crooked limb. Jerry’s eyes widened a bit as the drone kept talking. “In fact, Stable One-Two-One boasts nearly tot-t-tal automation of all vital functions so our dwellers can l-l-l-live in peace and comfort without having to lift a hoof to help.”

“So… where are the other residents?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, but with your current status as admissions applicants, I am not at liberty to discuss the current goings-on in the Stable. However if your application is accepted you will be welcomed into Stable One-Two-One with open hooves!” the drone said, spreading its forelegs wide. Its left leg groaned and a moment later fell lifeless to its side. My eyes followed it down, then I glanced back up at its unblinking eyes.

“That’s quite alright. I don’t think my friend and I are suited to... better living, underground,” Jerry said as she nudged me back the way we’d come. “So I think we’ll just be leaving, if it’s all the same to you.”

Taking the hint, I nodded politely at the robot and started back towards the elevator. Its head slowly rotated to follow us, but it said nothing. Just as we were about to pass through the open door, it snapped shut in front of us, missing my nose by less than an inch.

“I’m sorry, but once the application process has begun it is important that we finish it. You will only be allowed to leave once your admission has been approved or denied. This is to ensure that Stable-Tec doesn’t allow anyone valuable to the future of Equestria to ‘go it alone’,” the drone said, raising its good leg and making quotations in the air with it. Jerry shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly and turned around.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with,” she said as she trotted over and took a seat in front of the desk. She stared down the drone, almost as if she expected those molded plastic eyes to blink. After a moment they both turned to look at me.

“Oh… uh, sorry,” I muttered and trotted over and took my place next to Jerry. The drone waited until I’d seated myself and then continued.

“I will now begin the test. Please answer-r-r all questions honestly. You are approached by a frenzied Stable scientist, who yells, ‘I'm going to put my quantum harmonizer in your photonic resonation chamber!’ What's your response?”

I blinked slowly and glanced at Jerry who did the same.

“Uhh, what?” I asked. The drone looked quickly between the two of us and repeated his question in the exact same tone. Yeah… no… still no idea what that means. “Um… I guess I would say nothing, grab a nearby pipe and hit the scientist in the head to knock him out. I don’t know what all that science-y stuff means, but it doesn’t sound good.” The drone nods and then turns to look at Jerry.

“Oh… I say nothing and sneak away while he’s distract with his own lunacy,” she said.

“Excellent. However the question is moot as Stable One-Two-One has no-o-o need scientists as all scientific functions are automated. Next question. While working as an intern in the Clinic, a-a-a patient with a strange infection on his hoof stumbles through the door. The infection is spreading at an alarming rate, but the doctor has stepped out for a while. What do you do?”

“I wait for the doctor to return,” Jerry said quickly. I looked at her and then at the drone. I narrowed my eyes as a thought popped into my head.

“Nothing. Stable One-Two-One has no need for interns,” I said.

“Absolutely correct. Our doctor is a top-of-the-line Mister Handy unit and as such would never have to leave the Clinic for any reason,” the drone said. “Next question.”

“Excuse me, before you continue. How many more questions are there?” I asked.

“There are a total of sixty eight questions. All of which are designed to determine your fit into this Stable,” the drone said. I looked over at Jerry and then back at the drone.

“To answer all your questions. We would do nothing. This Stable is fully automated,” I said. The drone looked quickly between the two of us.
“Processing. One moment please.” The drone slumped over suddenly, its plastic face cracking on the desk.

“What did you do?” Jerry asked in hushed tones, not taking her eyes off the prone form draped across the desk. I shrugged a shoulder and looked over at her.

“It said the Stable was automated. Why would we NEED to do anything in any situation?” Jerry opened her mouth to argue and then shut it as nothing came to mind.

“I… I guess that works…” she muttered.

“Either it works and we pass admission, or we’re denied access and asked to leave. Either one will open up a way out,” I added.

Suddenly the admissions drone spasmed and jerked upright, leaving the shattered plastics of its face on the desk. The interior of the drone was a tangle of greasy mechanical bits and bobs that I couldn’t begin to understand. It looked at each of us with what remained of its sculpted eyes.

“Congratulations! You have successfully gained entry int-t-to Stable One-Two-One,” it said as it suddenly thrust its working foreleg out at us. I hesitate and then reached out and shook it before it twisted and did the same with Jerry. “On behalf of everypony at Stable-Tec, we welcome you to your new home. Please proceed to the next room where you will be given your barding and a pip-buck, and thank you for choosing St-st-stable-Tec!” Without another word the drone descended through a panel set into the floor and disappeared.

“W-wait!” Jerry said as she jumped to her hooves. She leaned across the desk and looked down at the floor panel. “What if we don’t want to stay?!”

The panel reopened and the admissions drone shot up in an instant.

“I’m terribly sorry, but as an admission drone I can only approve admissions. For exemption, please speak to the current Overmare or Overstallion,” it said, and just as quickly as it arrived, it disappeared back underneath the floor. Jerry opened her mouth and let out a choked scream before dropping her head to the desk in frustration. Tentatively, I reached out and placed my hoof on her shoulder.

“C’mon. The only way out is forward,” I said softly. I removed my hoof and trotted into the next room. This room, much like the previous ones, had benches in the middle of it. Where the scanning alcoves and the desks had been before there was now a small slot in the wall with the writing ‘Insert Left Hoof Here’, along with a pointing arrow for convenience. Jerry stepped up next to me and looked around.

“What fresh hell is this?” she grumped. Ignoring her, I trotted over to the hole in the wall and lowered my head to peer into it.

“Beats me,” I muttered as I stood up straight and pressed my left hoof into the slot.

“Free, what the fuck is wrong with you!?” she shouted. She galloped over and threw her weight bodily into me and fell to the floor. I looked down at her as she scrambled to her hooves. “Pull your hoof out! You don’t know anything about this place! What if it cuts off your leg and you bleed out on the floor!?” I smirked and gave her an awkward shrug.

“Then at least I died a free pony,” I said. Judging by the face she made she didn’t find it nearly as amusing. “C’mon Jerry. What part of this place has seemed all that dangerous so far?” Suddenly I felt something clamp down hard on my hoof, locking me in place with a dull clunk. I gave a test tug of my trapped limb. Sure enough I was held fast. My eyes widened and I glanced at Jerry. “Okay… I think you were right to worry.” The speakers overhead crackled and a pleasant mare’s voice chimed in.

“Warning. The attachment device has been known to cause serious bodily harm. To minimize the risk, please refrain from any movement. Stable-Tec is not responsible for any injury or mutilation that may occur. Thank you.”

“Mutilation?!” Jerry and I shouted in unison. I began to struggle harder as Jerry did her best to help pull me free. She wrapped her forelegs around my chest, braced her legs against the wall and pulled with me. It was no use, I would lose the leg sooner than be freed that way. From inside the wall came the rumbling and clanking of machinery turning on for the first time in a very long time. I felt something clamp around my forelimb tightly. I blinked and suddenly line after line of text flooded my vision.

“W-what is this?” I muttered as I began to grow dizzy.

//Initializing Pip-Buck 3001 Start-Up Sequence…
//Calibrating To New User Biometrics…
//Calibration Complete - New User: Earth Pony
//Attuning To Ambient Magical Energy…
//Attunement Complete
//Attempting Wireless System Update Via Stable-Tec Servers…
//ERROR Servers Not Found
//Attempting Wireless System Update Via Nearby Active Pip-Bucks…
//ERROR No Active Pip-Bucks Found
//System Update Cancelled
//Please see a certified Stable-Tec Pip-Buck Technician at your earliest convenience to assure proper Pip-Buck functionality.
//Boot Sequence Complete

Suddenly my leg was released and I yanked it away as though I’d been burned. There, just above my hoof, was a shackle just like the one that Dig Deep had worn. It was snug, but didn’t cut into the flesh of my leg. All the same, it set me on edge, reminding me a little too much of the night I became a slave. Images of rusted metal, the glistening muscle where the skin had peeled away and the blood forced their way into my head. I pressed my hoof against the edge of the shackle and pushed, trying to slide it free. It didn’t budge. Not even a little. Jerry looked nervous, and watched, unsure of whether to help.

“I can’t get it off!” I grunted as I struggled with the device. The screen flickered into life and as I tried to force the thing off my leg I spied a cartoon version of myself trotting on the screen beneath the word ‘STAT’. It even had the same scars. Wow, I’ve been brutalized over the years. I’d never really noticed just how scarred up my flank and sides were. The outright absurdity of the moment relieved my panic.

“Free? Are you alright? Is it hurting you?” Jerry asked as she took a tentative step in my direction. I looked at her and took a deep breath before nodding.

“I’m fine, it just… reminded me of a bad memory. Had me freaking out a little bit…” I muttered as I shunted the memories to the back of my mind. I couldn’t let them control me. I lifted my hoof and glanced at the device attached to it. It had knobs and buttons and I didn’t have the first clue what any of it did. Jerry moved over next to me and peered around me. I angled the screen so she could get a better look. “Any idea what it does?”

Jerry scrunched up her nose and prodded at one of the buttons. “It looks like a terminal… only portable,” she said. She then turned her focus to a notched knob at the top of the device. When she turned it, the cartoon version of me disappeared and was replaced with a semi-detailed image of Liberator. Beneath that was its weight, its value, and a bunch of information I didn’t understand. “Oh wow, it keeps track of the stuff you’re carrying. See?” she said as she tapped the small screen. “It recognizes your club.” She looked up slowly, one brow raised. “You named it Liberator?” she asked. I flushed and took my hoof away.

“It... seemed appropriate,” I mumbled. I glanced down at the screen. How did IT know I named it Liberator? I hadn’t even told Jerry. After a moment of contemplation I shrugged it off. I would just chalk it up as yet another thing I didn’t know. I took a moment to myself, pressing the various buttons and turning the knobs. For the most part it was pretty easy to mess around with, but doing anything too much more complicated than that was easily beyond me. There was also some sort of… tray or compartment on the top that looked like it could hold something. It popped open with the press of a hoof, but was empty.

“If you keep playing with it, you’ll go blind.” Jerry trotted towards the next door, a smirk on her face. It opened before her with a faint hiss. She stopped in her tracks and looked down as her ears fell. “Goddesses…” she breathed. I came up behind her and looked over her into the next room. Two bodies were slumped in a heap on the floor, little more than grimy skeletons in filthy, bullet riddled barding. Judging by the way the bodies lay, these ponies had been shot in the back as they’d run away.

“Well… that’s definitely not good,” I muttered as I pushed past Jerry and took the lead with her following a few steps behind. Further down the hall was a makeshift barricade made of plush couches that had been pulled away from the walls and overturned. The defenders of this barricade had fallen at their posts. One’s head had been blasted apart, the other had simply been perforated by a hail of bullets. “This place looks like a warzone…” I said as I stepped around the barricade and continued down the hall. The stable was worlds different than both The Dig and the museum. Everything here looked, well, stable. Nothing appeared to be falling in on itself or ramshackle and aside from the corpses and a layer of dirt or dust, everything looked rather… secure. The hall ended in a juncture with signs on the wall indicating that to my left was the living quarters and to the right, the atrium. I glanced both ways and seeing nothing in particular of interest in either direction, I decided to head right.

The atrium was a scene of carnage and changed my mind about the Stable as a whole. Corpses lay across the floor, draped across overturned tables or tangled up in the safety railings on the second floor. Tools and weapons lay strewn about, presumably where they’d fallen out of mouths or magical fields. Aging, ruddy brown stains marred the floors, walls and tables. Jerry and I stared in hushed silence, looking over what had clearly been a battlefield. Each body was clad in the same blue barding and bore pip-bucks. A closer look revealed that each corpse’s barding bore a hoof-made patch of some kind. Some bore a stylized sun, while others bore a moon, a flower or some other such emblem.

“What happened here?” Jerry asked softly as she stepped forward. She reached out with a hoof and gingerly scraped one of the fallen pistols closer before bending down and picking it up in her mouth. A moment later she winced as the taste hit her.

“I dunno,” I said as I stalked among the bodies. “But whatever it was was worth a lot of spilled blood.” A skeleton several feet away jostled and I froze. For a moment I feared some sort of living skeleton, but a putrid brown radroach squirmed out from beneath it. It looked up at me all wriggling antennae and gnashing mandibles. Then as quickly as it had appeared, another skittered free.

And then another.

And another.

Nine grotesque abominations stared at us through huge black eyes. Jerry and I tensed, unwilling to move lest it set them off. They might just be bugs, but there were a lot of them. More than once I’d seen other slaves in Doc’s office with chunks missing from these ravenous insects.

“Easy now. No. Sudden. Movements,” I said quietly. For a long minute the only movement was from the twitching of antennae. Then one hunched and launched itself forward, its carapace opening and prismatic wings unfolding to carry it through the air.

“Oh come on!” Jerry grumbled as the mutated insects attacked. I reared back and batted the nearest to the floor before coming down on top of it. Its carapace buckled under my weight and foul-smelling white sludge spurted from its crushed body. Jerry yelped as one of the radroaches landed on her flank, scrabbling for purchase with its clawed legs. She reared back and toppled over, falling on top of her attacker and crushing it. She rolled to her hooves, a look of disgust on her face at the thick paste that clung to her hide. “I hate this place!” she said as she turned and quickly stomped another radroach beneath her hooves with a loud crunch.

I opened my mouth to make a quip, but the sensation of mandibles sinking into my ankle transformed it into a cry of pain. I bucked hard and felt the radroach tear free of my leg and smack wetly against the atrium wall. It thrashed around on its back until it righted itself and then scurried down the corridor and out of sight. The fight was over shortly after, leaving Jerry and I panting and covered in the ruptured innards of radroaches. I glanced around and when nothing else made itself known I let out a low sigh. “Scrounge up what you can, Jerry. Guns, bullets, whatever. I’m sure we’ll need it when we get back topside.” Jerry nodded absently, but began to stalk amongst the bodies, patting them down and carefully retrieving things that might be of use.

“Well… I’m a dead pony. There’s nothing else to it. They elected me Overmare out of spite or… just because they could. It’s a death sentence. Everypony in the stable knows it. Never in a million years did I think it would be me on the chopping block. I’ve seen so many ponies get elected. I’ve seen the devastation written on the faces of their loved ones, the joy on their enemies, and the smug look of the elite who orchestrated it all. I just wrote it off, as I think we all do. Well… can’t write it off now, can I?

“I know that Rose Thorn and her Solar Bloc cohorts have been exerting pressure on ponies to vote the way they wanted. Its likely been going on longer than I’ve been of voting age, but… that’s all over now. Zero-Three, take note. My first official act as Overmare is to hereby dissolve the current voting system. Zero-Three will hereby assign a number to each dweller and a number will be chosen at random. I won’t let anypony control anypony else’s fate. Is that understood Zero-Three?”

“Understood Overmare.”

“Good. Label it Executive Order Four-Four-Eight. It can only be overturned by me. Understood?”

“Understood Overmare.”

“Heh... Suck on that, Rose Thorn. You may have taken my life, but I’ve taken your power.”

The recording clicked off and I glanced up at Jerry as she took inventory on the supplies we’d scrounged up. I was expecting her input, but she was carefully looking over a pistol she’d picked up. I opened the small compartment on the pip-buck and removed the cartridge and dropped it on the floor. After a moment she sighed and lowered her head to the table.

“I wish I knew more about these things. I can’t tell if they’re any good or if they’re one shot away from exploding,” she said as she tapped the pistol with a hoof. Arrayed on the table next to it were several other pistols, all in roughly the same state, at least as far as I could tell.

“I suppose we could test fire them,” I suggested as I counted out bullets into separate stacks. “We’ve got enough bullets to spare.” Jerry lifted her head and gave me a look.

“No thanks. If it does explode, I’d prefer it not to be in my mouth when it does,” she said, giving me a flat look. I frowned, my ears flattening. I honestly hadn’t thought of that.

“See. That’s why I’ll stick with Liberator. Its big, it’s heavy, and I hit ponies with it. Very little room for error there,” I said as I reached over and gave the club a pat. Jerry rolled her eyes dramatically as she scraped the guns aside to lean on the table.

“And what will you do if somepony shoots at you?” she asked. I faltered, unable to think of anything so quickly. “BLAM!” she shouted, slamming her hoof down on the table. Several bullets jumped and rolled onto the floor. “Liberator won’t do you much good without getting in close.”

I hadn’t really thought about that either. Brawls between slaves were always hoof-to-hoof. At worst, one of the guards might toss in a tool to make it more interesting to watch. But out here there was no such balance. The next ponies we come up against might very well put a bullet in my head long before I ever see them coming. I looked at Jerry as she slid off her seat to pick up the fallen bullets.

“You just need to think about things a little more before you act, Free,” she said as she pinched a couple of bullets between her hooves and put them back on the table. “It’s a different world outside The Dig,” she added as she stood and started looking amongst the bodies again.

It took us a couple of hours to completely dig through the chaos that was the atrium. When all was said and done we’d found over a hundred bullets of varying sizes, a few sealed bottles of water (two of which were promptly opened and drank), some sealed packages of food (which were also consumed), and various bits and bobs that Jerry thought might come in handy. We’d also found a pair of saddlebags that weren’t too terribly worn, in which we’d safely deposited our findings for the time being. I glanced around the open atrium and the corridors branching off of it.

There was a lot more to this place, and likely more things that would help us survive on our own. Chief in my mind was some more medical supplies. The magical bandages had helped, but they lacked the kick of a good healing potion. I stood in front of one of the corridors, this one marked with a yellow cross over a pink diamond with three butterflies in the center of it and the word ‘clinic’ printed neatly below.

“Okay, I think that’s everything of use in here,” Jerry said as she wiped her brow with a foreleg. “Once we find a trader we should be able to trade this for some good barding, supplies, and a weapon that’s probably seen some maintenance in the last decade.” She trotted over to where I stood and looked at me expectantly. When I didn’t say anything, she sighed and gestured back towards the way we’d come in. “That means we can go. As in, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“We should look for medical supplies,” I said, nodding down the corridor as I started down it. “We might need them.”

“What? No, we’ll be fine. Let’s just get out of here,” Jerry said, not following me.

“You told me to think a little more before acting. So I am. We need more medical supplies. Doc isn’t here to patch us up and Bruiser very nearly killed the both of us without much effort. Something tells me we’ll need them,” I called back over my shoulder.

Jerry fidgeted and glanced around nervously before hurrying after me. “Dammit Free, you’ll be the death of me yet,” she muttered.

The atrium may have been a battlefield, but the clinic was a slaughterhouse. The double doors were blackened and blown apart and bullet casings littered the floor in the hundreds. Pockmarks and bullet holes stitched winding paths across the room. Pony skeletons covered each bed and the floor, leaving barely enough room for somepony to walk from one end to the other. The once white flooring was little more than a ruddy mess that would never truly come clean. The crumpled form of a multi-limbed robot lay in the middle of the room, its frame shredded. Ponies had stood in this doorway and riddled the room, and its occupants, with bullets. We both stood in stunned silence for a long time.

“Goddesses…” Jerry breathed as she stepped into the room, scattering several casings out of her way with soft, jingling noises. “Free… what kind of monsters would do this?” she asked, “Who slaughters defenseless, injured ponies?” I shook my head quietly, stepping carefully over the bodies. None of them bore the sun motif, so I had an idea. At the back of the clinic a metal cabinet had been pried open, its contents missing. A unicorn skeleton lay slumped against the wall near it, a pistol resting in its lap, the back of its head blown out, and a sun patch laying on the floor next to it.

“I’m guessing it was whoever took all the healing potions,” I said with a shake of my head. Coming down here had done nothing but make the pair of us uncomfortable. I turned to leave, my hoof jostling the skeleton with the pistol. Its pip-buck clicked and opened, a small cartridge sticking partway out. I looked at it curiously and then bent to retrieve it. I popped it into my pip-buck and it began to play automatically.

“What did you do?” a concerned and stunned stallion’s voice cried.

“I did what I had to.” a deeper voice responded, sounding far less concerned. There was a quick shuffling and what sounded like something being slammed against a locker.

“Had to? Why did you have to?! We already had the healing potions!!” the first screamed, the concern in his voice quickly consumed by burning anger. “There were kids in there, Comet!”

“Well they were on the wrong side! You’re either solar bloc or you’re dead! You know that Harpsichord. Don’t be so naive.” the second stallion, apparently named Comet hissed. There was another loud slam.

“You bloodthirsty fuck! They couldn’t fight back!”

The conversation devolved into the sounds of a knockdown, drag-out fight as the two stallions beat on one another. After several minutes and the unmistakable sound of somepony getting beat to a pulp the fight came to an end. I heard the pip-buck get smacked against the tile floor and the wearer coughing and groaning in pain.

“You… you fucking monster…” Harpsichord coughed.

“Fuck you, Harp! This is about survival!” Comet spat. I glanced at the floor and saw a small bloody stain that must’ve been the spit.

“Go ahead… see if you... can live... with killing foals…” Harpsichord hissed. There was a long drawn out silence and then the sound of hoofsteps growing more distant. Slowly, the sound of sobbing filled the recording. “I’m… I’m so sorry… None… none of you deserved this…”

There was a faint ripping sound. I glanced at the patch on the floor, torn from the unicorn’s barding. “But I… I deserve this…” There was the distinct sound of a hammer being cocked and then the echo of a gunshot as the recording fell silent. I looked back over the body and then turned away again. Jerry stood nearby, silently staring at a small body cradled between two big ones, all three riddled with bullets.

“C’mon Jerry, we’ve still gotta find a way out of this place,” I said as I ushered Jerry out the door. She kept her head low, staring intently at the floor as we stalked back down the silent halls heading for the atrium.

It wasn’t hard to find the Overmare’s office. It was safely ensconced behind the large circular window that overlooked the atrium. The fact that it was literally ‘over’ the other ponies, was not lost on me. It took a little doing, but eventually Jerry and I managed to circumvent the warrens of barricaded hallways and reach the office. Like the clinic, this door had been blasted open, the metal warped from heat and force. The room should have been a posh living space, with two doors leading to other rooms of the quarters, but the brutalized skeleton of the Overmare really ruined that feeling. Unlike all the other bodies, her barding had been removed. Each of her legs had been tied to a corner of her desk, leaving her open for… well, I preferred not to think. Several knives had been embedded in the desk near her head, their blades grimy and worn with obvious use.

“Celestia save us…” Jerry breathed, “The ponies in this place were no better than Thrasher.” On the floor in front of the Overmare’s remains was another small cartridge like I’d found in the clinic. I hesitated a moment before putting it into my pip-buck.

The tape opened to labored breathing.

“You stupid. Spiteful, little bitch...” a mare hissed. I heard one the knives get pulled free of the table and the sounds of pacing. “We’re all that’s left... Just us six. Everypony else is dead or dying downstairs…”

In the background I could hear sniffling. It didn’t take an egghead to realize that this was Rose Thorn and the Overmare.

“Y-your f-f-” the Overmare began to stammer, but was cut short by a high pitched shriek of pain and the wet sound of flesh being cut.

“NO! DON’T YOU DARE TRY AND PIN THIS ON ME!” Rose Thorn screamed. “You couldn’t just shut your damn mouth and accept your death like the others did! Noooo, you had to try and fix what wasn’t broken!” The Overmare sucked in a few sharp breaths and then managed a weak chuckle. I could practically hear Rose Thorn’s rage in the silence. “You’re LAUGHING?!” she shrieked. The Overmare screamed again as Rose Thorn cut her once more. She sucked in several breaths and then spoke.

“Just… made things… fair…” she breathed, weakly. Rose Thorn screamed again and with one last meaty slash, the Overmare’s voice was replaced by a wet gurgling.

“It was never supposed to be fair…” Rose Thorn half whispered. The next several seconds were the death gurgles of the Overmare as she choked on her own blood. When it finally fell silent somepony cleared his throat.

“What do we do, Rose?” a stallion asked. “Everypony is dead save us s- five…”

Rose was quiet for a minute.

“The Stable still needs its blood…” she said softly, “And we have nothing left. Gather up some drinks and let’s head to the sacrificial chamber. It may as well take us all…”

The tape clicked off leaving Jerry and I in stunned silence once more.

“I don’t recognize you.” came a metallic mare’s voice. I nearly jumped out of my skin and spun around, quickly placing myself in front of Jerry. A bulky, tracked form in the vaguest shape of a pony rolled into view in the doorway. Atop its body was a glass dome, adorned with a single mechanical eye. Inside the glass dome was a floating brain. “Are you from Stable-Tec? I’m afraid that the experiment did not go as predicted.”

“Experiment?” I asked. The strange robot staggered forward on rusting tracks, allowing me a closer look. Its metal housing had been perforated, dozens of holes punched clean through the plating, exposing more than a few internal workings.

“Yes, Stable One-Two-One’s social experiment has unfortunately failed. We must inform the main branch of the results,” it said. Its mechanical eye whirred and clicked as it looked between us.

“We…” Jerry started, casting a glance my way, “We’re here to collect the results for Stable-Tec. Can… Can you please tell us what happened here?” she asked. The robot stared at her for a moment.

“Of course. The ponies of the stable took up arms against one another. Not long after the stable sealed, voting groups formed. Over time some grew more powerful than others and used that power to ensure that none of their own were voted in as Overmare or Overstallion. The stable reached the tipping point when Overmare Orchid Jewel instituted a new rule that eliminated the voting process in favor of a random lottery. The Solar Bloc, led by Rose Thorn, began overly aggressive actions to force the Overmare to rescind her ruling. When she refused, open violence occurred that culminated in the death of all the stable’s residents.”

Jerry swallowed the dry lump in her throat while I stayed silent. The ponies here had killed each other.

“And… and what happened to Rose Thorn?” Jerry continued.

“Rose Thorn and her surviving compatriots entered the stable’s sacrificial chamber and ended their lives,” the robot said flatly.

“I see…” I said quietly. I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. Hundreds of ponies dead over a stupid rule. Had I not seen the stacked bodies I would’ve thought it impossibly stupid. “Zero-Three. My friend and I would like to exit the Stable. Can you reactivate the elevator for us?”

“Of course,” it said. From somewhere in the facility, we heard a generator kick on, a dull roar somewhere below my hooves.

“Thank you. We’ll… take the results of the experiment back to Stable-Tec,” I said as I gestured towards the door.

“Safe travels,” the robot said, lifting an arm and waving after us. When were safely out of earshot I let out a long slow breath.

“Let’s get the hell out of this place,” I muttered to Jerry.

“Yeah, I’m all for leaving and never coming back,” she said with a nod.

Once back in the atrium we gathered up our saddlebags and started back the way we’d come in. As we trotted through the admissions rooms again, I stopped. There, resting in an open alcove was pristine blue barding emblazoned with the number 121 in vibrant yellow. I glanced after Jerry, and then slipped it into my saddlebag. Waste not, want not. Jerry waited eagerly next to the elevator button which she jabbed a hoof into before I’d fully stepped onto the platform. The doors ground shut and with a jerk the elevator began to rise.

“Let’s not go into any more of those Stables,” Jerry said quietly as we rode the lift.

“Agreed,” I muttered.

Footnote: Level Up!

New Perk: Waste Not, Want Not -- This scavenging thing ain’t so hard. Increased chance of finding valuable loot.

Chapter 5: Civilization, As It Were

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“It’s definitely not the Equestria I knew, but it’s about as close as we’re gonna get.” - Sentinel

Darkness crept over us before we knew it, only this time we didn’t have the luxury of a shack to shield us from the things that go bump in the night. Using a lighter she’d taken from Stable 121, Jerry started a fire to keep us warm. Chalk another one up to Jerry’s special talent for helping out a great deal. The fire crackled into life, hungrily consuming the few dry sticks we’d plucked up and piled together for it. We huddled close to bask in its warmth in silence, staring into the flickering flames. Jerry yawned and leaned her head against my shoulder while I stared at the pip-buck. It had some sort of built-in map that was somehow updating as we journeyed through the wasteland. If it could be trusted, we were making good progress based upon our distance from the stable.

“You can get some sleep. I’ll stay up and keep an eye on things,” I said with a smile. She made a half mumbled argument even as her eyes drifted closed. She lowered her head, resting her chin on her hooves and was out almost instantly. I stared into the fire, nudging the burning sticks occasionally as the mood struck me. I was somewhat surprised we hadn’t run into any of the other escapees from our group, even though I knew they didn’t necessarily flee in the same direction we had. I guess I had just been holding out hope that there would be somepony else. Maybe that was years of being just one of a huge group.

I glanced down at Jerry where she slept next to me and smiled. Maybe keeping it small wasn’t so bad.

I sat in silence for a couple of hours, letting Jerry get her well-deserved rest. To pass the time I fiddled with the pip-buck, trying to figure out what it could do and how I could make it do it. I spent a lot of time looking at the various readouts on the status screen, all of them telling me just how little the magic bandages had healed from my fight with Bruiser and to seek proper medical attention. I smirked.

“At least Lash isn’t here to stop me this time, huh,” I muttered quietly. Jerry shifted slightly, but said nothing. Not that I really expected her to. She was exhausted, and not as used to the pain of a beating like I was. She needed her rest. When she woke up on her own, then I could rest. Absently I twisted a knob at the top of the pip-buck and a sultry mare’s voice filtered slightly by static spilled from a small speaker set in the device.

“-d evening, fillies and gentlecolts. It is the dead of night and that’s when the dead come out and play. Music that is. Your ever-living host, Ghost Widow here, to interrupt our usual playlist with a bit of news for all my fellow wastelanders.

“Keep an eye out, pun not intended, for bands of Gouged Eye skulking around out near Deepwater Gulch. I know you folks there are used to all sorts of danger, but still, a heads up is a mite better than a heads off. Am I right?” The voice over the radio paused. After a moment she cleared her throat. “That… made more sense in my head. But seriously, stay safe when venturing out of the Gulch for the time being.

“Likewise, a little birdy told me that EAF tolls will be rising this month. So hold on to a few more caps than normal when traveling their toll roads if you don’t want to be hassled by those crooks. And yes, I know they can get this broadcast just as easily as anypony else. But what’re they gonna do? You can’t threaten a dead mare.

“To finish off this batch of news, we’re still getting unconfirmed reports of dragons from some of the outlying settlements. As always I ask that you relax. Just because you hear roars doesn’t mean there’s dragons roaming about the Badlands. Plenty of beasties roar nowadays, including many that I really wish wouldn’t.

“But that’s enough of this old mare’s rambling. Before we get back to the music, I want to remind you lovely scavengers that if you can find new songs, I’d be more than willing to part with some caps to add them to my meager collection. It’s just as much for you all as it is for me, I promise. And to prove it, an enterprising group sent me one of their songs, so here’s the Wasteland Wailers with ‘When The Sun Comes Back’.”

The mare’s voice was replaced with silence for a moment then the music began to play. Another mare’s lovely voice began to drift from the speaker accompanied by instruments. The song was surprisingly upbeat and I found myself bobbing my head along with the music. When the song ended, Jerry lifted her head and yawned, rubbing sleepily at her eyes. I switched the radio off and smiled at her. “Sleep well?” I asked.

“How long was I out?” she muttered, only barely awake.

“A few hours. You really needed the rest,” I answered. She reached out with a hoof, weakly punching my shoulder.

“Free… you were ‘sposed to wake me…” she whinnied. “You need to get some rest too.”

I shrugged. “I’m okay. Did you get enough rest?” Jerry glared at me, fixing me with angry green eyes. I leaned away instinctively. “Right, well… uhh… guess I’ll take a quick nap…” I muttered as I crossed my forelegs and lowered my chin onto them. I stared quietly at the flickering fire as Jerry stoked it, rolling her head on her shoulders as she woke herself fully. I exhaled slowly, my eyes drifted closed, and I slipped into blissful, exhausted slumber.

I awoke to muttering voices, a soft chuckle and the tantalizing smell of cooking meat. My eyes opened slowly, as the vague remnants of a dream disappeared into the aether. I laid still, listening. I could make out Jerry’s voice, muffled by sleep numbed ears. But there was another with her. A stallion, if I had to guess. Somepony had found us in the night. I tensed, wondering just how quickly I could unsling Liberator.

Calm down, Free. Take in the surroundings first, I thought to myself. I opened my eye a crack and peered around. The fire was still going strong, perhaps stronger than before. A makeshift spit had been set up over it with a skewered shank of cooking meat. Jerry still sat next to me, but she looked across the fire at a figure. Dingy metal armor hung over his shoulders, partially covered in tanned leather, and a sun faded wide-brimmed hat rested atop his head. Lying next to him, propped up on a pack was a large hunting rifle.

“Your friend’s awake,” he said, nodding his head in my direction. Jerry looked down at me and smiled warmly, immediately quieting the worry that had begun to form. Quieting, but not silencing it completely. I sat up slowly, unsure of what was going on.

“Hey, g’morning,” she said, cheerfully. She gestured with a hoof at the stallion across from us. “Free, this is…” she started, pausing and scrunched up her face as she tried to remember. Perhaps taking pity on her, the stallion cleared his throat.

“Trapper. Pleasure.” he said flatly with a gravelly voice.

“Right, sorry. Trapper. He’s a hunter and he offered us some food in exchange for a place by the fire for the night,” she continued. I cast my glance back toward the stallion. He was carefully turning the spit, bubbling fat dripping from the meat and sizzling on the burning sticks and brush. I glanced back at Jerry, asking her the obvious question with my eyes. Her brow furrowed and after a moment her eyes widened as she understood my unspoken question. “He’s safe. He’s still being friendly even after I pointed my gun at him.”

“I’m safe. Ya’ll weren’t,” he said, not taking his eyes off the cooking meat. “Ya’ll shouldn’t be so brazen with a fire an’ no shelter out here. Plenty o’ folks would just shoot ya and take yer possessions rather’n talk all nice like.”

“So why did you?” I asked. His eyes peeled away from the cooking meat, scanned me up and down and then returned to the task at hoof.

“Guess I’m ol’ fashioned like that,” he muttered. I nodded slowly and turned to peer at Jerry. She was intently focused on the meat, as if under its sway.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, never even breaking eye contact with the food.

“What look? I don’t have a look,” I muttered, glancing back at the stranger.

“Ya gave’r a look,” Trapper added.

“Fine,” I grunted. “I gave you a look. Why didn’t you wake me? This guy could be some sorta lunatic and you invite him over for dinner?” That got her to look at me, and I immediately regretted my success in the matter.

“I did try to wake you!” she said, “But you sleep like the dead! And I’m relatively confident that Trapper isn’t a lunatic! He called out several times to get my attention as he approached, kept his rifle slung, and never made any sudden movements! And, HE is the one who offered us some of HIS food!” I glanced across the fire at the strange stallion, who smirked but kept his mouth shut.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” I muttered. I wasn’t, but it was better than the argument brewing. “I guess I’m just… paranoid…”

“A lil’ bit o’ paranoia is a healthy thing in the Badlands,” Trapper muttered, “Helps ya avoid... undesirables.” He cocked his head to the side and a small knife levitated out of his saddlebags. My blood ran cold and I was on my hooves in an instant. He glanced up at me coolly. “Relax. Ain’t fer ya’ll. It’s fer the meat,” he said as the knife slowly moved to the roasting shank and cut into it. An enticing aroma spilled from the meat along with savory juices that sputtered on the fire. It smelled amazing. Inwardly I was clamoring for something better than centuries old food or the barely edible food-like... things given to the slaves. Slowly, I sat back down.

“What is that?” I asked curiously. The stallion looked up at me and he smirked.

“Ya’ll ever have brahmin?” he asked casually as he levitated a steaming slice of meat over to Jerry. She shook her head and held out her hooves to accept the proffered food.

“We... “ she started, thinking her words over carefully. “We were never so lucky.”

The stallion nodded, apparently understanding and offered a piece to me as well. A war broke out inside me between my rational, if a tad bit paranoid mind, telling me not to trust this stranger, and my stomach asking me what the harm could be in enjoying what might just be the finest smelling food I’d ever have a chance to eat. In the end, hunger won out. I held out my hooves and Trapper placed the steaming slice of meat in them before cutting himself a small piece. It was hot and I passed it between my hooves to cool it before biting down. Succulent juices burst from each bite and for a brief moment nothing else mattered but this. I allowed my eyes to close and savored each bite until it was gone. When I opened them again both Jerry and Trapper were staring at me.

“What?” I asked. Jerry was smiling wide and Trapper was shaking with silent laughter. “What?” I repeated.

“You moaned like you were having sex while you ate!” she said before breaking down into uncontrollable giggles. I felt the blood rush to my face and looked away.

“I… I did not!” I uttered defensively, but Jerry was too busy laughing to hear. I struggled to come up with something to calm her, but all I managed was a mumbled “I-it was just… the best I’ve ever had…” causing Jerry to lose it all over again. Even Trapper let out a guffaw which he diplomatically placed a hoof over his mouth to try and stop. I could feel my cheeks burning as it dawned on me just what I’d said. Sweet Celestia, just take me now. It was a solid couple of minutes before either of them was able to look my way without cracking up all over again.

Finally, Trapper cleared his throat. “There’s plenty more,” he said. He glanced at Jerry before adding; “That is, if’n ya got the stamina.” Jerry sputtered and flopped over laughing, kicking at the air as she held her stomach. I let out a sigh and held out my hoof for more. Might as well enjoy the good food while being the butt of the joke.

One incredibly awkward meal and several jokes later we were moving again. Jerry and I followed a pace behind Trapper as we slogged through drying mud. Despite my reservations, I was laying a certain amount of trust on the stallion. He’d offered us food (very good food) and now was leading us toward a place a few days trot away where he claimed we’d be able to sell the stuff we’d scavenged from the stable.

“So,” Jerry started, “what can you tell us about… the wasteland?” Trapper glanced over his shoulder at us.

“In general? Or ‘bout the Badlands in particular?” he asked. Jerry and I exchanged looks, the pair of us likely thinking the same thing.

“You’ve been pretty honest with us so far,” I started. Jerry looked down at the mud beneath her hooves, uncertainty on her face. “So I’ll be honest with you.” I took a deep breath, but Trapper stopped and held up a hoof.

“Lemme stop ya,” he said, taking the wind from my sails. I exhaled slowly as he turned to look at the two of us. “Yer prolly gonna tell me yer both escaped slaves. But, it’s kinda obvious.” He lifted his hoof to point at me. “I’ve been around awhile and I know whip scars when I see ’em.” I tensed, my paranoia amping back up. He must’ve noticed, because he waved me down. “Relax. I dun care none for slavers. But it seemed like y’all were tryin’ ta keep it secret. If’n ya want that, ya might wanna cover up your scars.”

I twisted and glanced at the jagged pink lines that crossed my hide. He was right. We would stand out amongst pretty much anypony we came across.

“I assume ya’ll was gonna ask about survivin’ in the wasteland?” he continued. Jerry nodded for the both of us. “Can ya’ll read? There’s a book from up north that’s perfect for this,” he added.

“Not well. Educating us wasn’t very high on Fortune’s list,” I muttered. Trapper frowned, but nodded.

“That makes this a bit more difficult,” he said, as he turned and started walking again. “Well, I can give ya some basics. First, the wasteland don’t forgive. Ya give it an inch and it’ll take a mile and then some. Ya got weapons, ya best git comfortable wit’ usin’ ‘em.” It was sound advice. Bruiser had very nearly killed the both of us. It was only a random fluke that I’d managed to get the upper hoof on him. That said, swinging around a hunk of metal and concrete didn’t seem to require the same level of skill as firing a gun.

“Second, an’ this’ll werk fer coverin’ them scars, ya’ll need some armor,” he continued. To emphasize his point he lifted a hoof and banged it against his metal armor. “Anythin’ is better than nothin’. Stingers, teeth, claws, bullets... Trust me when I say ya want something between you and it.”

“You left whips out of that list,” I muttered. Trapper glanced back, with a frown on his face.

“Right… sorry…” he muttered. “Look, work with me here. I ain’t usually one fer educatin’ folks but I’m doin’ what I can.” I lowered my head and nodded for him to continue. “Ya’ll are loaded for bear with stuff. I guarantee ya someone in Rust Rail will fork over a lot of caps to get their hooves on it. I also guarantee someone else will be willin’ ta take them caps fer armor. Once ya got yer gear, where ya go is up ta you.”

Up to us. The concept was so foreign that it seemed more than a little daunting. “Any suggestions?” Jerry asked. Trapper looked up at the sky briefly and then shrugged.

“I guess it depends. Most folks don’t stick ‘round Rust Rail more’n a few days, but there are some that like it enough ta stay. I got myself a little shack tucked somewhere nice ‘n safe that I call home. Its close enough ta do some tradin’ at Rust Rail, but secluded enough that I ain’t bothered by slavers or other… undesirables. Can’t say I’ve ever ventured much further though.”

Jerry and I were quiet as we thought over the information. We weren’t terribly far from The Dig, so staying at this Rust Rail seemed like a poor decision. Still though, if we could get some supplies there, at least we’d be better set for the journey ahead. “What about things or places to avoid?” I asked.

Trapper chuckled. “Well… that one ain’t so simple ta answer. The Badlands are chock-full of factions, both big and small. Some are okay, and some ain’t. Personally, I make it my business ta avoid groups of three or more. As fer critters… I tend ta go by the same rule. Much of what the wasteland has ta offer a pony is lethal.” Trapper glanced over his shoulder at us, deliberately looking past his rifle’s barrel. “There ain’t no catch all trick ta survival. Ya jus’ do yer best and hope the Goddesses are watchin’ over ya.”

For the next two days Trapper led us in the direction of what passed for civilization in the wasteland. Jerry talked Trapper’s ear off about what to expect when surviving in the wasteland, asking him question after question that he patiently answered. Mostly, I just followed behind in silence, listening but not asking any questions of my own.

It’s not that I wasn’t as invested in our survival. Far from it, in fact. Trapper seemed to know so much about the wasteland, and Jerry hung intently on his every word. I tucked away the odd nugget of information that I heard, but the majority he had to say was over this poor hole digging pony’s head. Truth be told, I was mildly jealous at the way Jerry hung on his every word. I didn’t have any such words of wisdom to offer unless it came to doing your best to ignore your own split flesh and infected wounds.

“So…” Jerry said, shaking me from my own thoughts, “once it’s been cooked, it should be safe to eat?” she asked. Trapper nodded sagely.

“Yeah, but it still tastes like crap,” he said with a chuckle. “Better to avoid it altogether unless you’re starving. But, it’ll do in a pinch.” Jerry nodded as Trapper looked forward. “Ah, just over this rise and you’ll see her.” Jerry glanced at the edge of the dune we were traversing and quickened her pace as excitement took hold. I smiled and hurried after her, leaving Trapper to patiently follow behind. Jerry hit the top of the dune and stopped.

“Oh, wow…” she breathed. As I crested the hill next to her, my gaze fell upon Rust Rail and it was immediately evident where it got its name. Several sets of rust coated railways crossed the ground leading towards the sprawling settlement. At one time it was likely the only railyard in the Badlands. Freight containers still sat upon the tracks where they’d been left to rust centuries before. Now, the few that were still intact had been cut open and makeshift shops set up inside them. A few had even been welded together or stacked. Flickering neon signs topped the larger ‘stores’ proudly boasting guns, ammo and everything in between.

While a few shops were set up in stacked and rusting freight cars, most were simple market stalls set up under awnings. At the center of it all, where the rails converged was a large, ramshackle building. I could see the remnants of flatbed train cars making up its walls and a large, painted sign that simply read ‘Violet’s’

Ponies of all types trotted along the rows of stores, browsing the offered wares. Dotted amongst them were the odd shapes of creatures I didn’t recognize. A trio of griffons in menacing armor worked their way through the crowd towards a weaponsmith. A little ways from them a hulking, armored form parted the crowd like a blade as it marched down the row with a purpose. The faint din of too many voices talking at once reached us, even this far from the settlement.

“There ya have’r,” Trapper said as he came up behind us. “Rust Rail. Down there ya should be able ta sell yer salvage and get any gear ya need. Ya might even find someone ta continue leadin’ ya through the wasteland in Violet’s, though they ain’t usually cheap.”

Jerry lunged at Trapper and pulled him into a tight hug. He looked tense and perhaps a little nervous. Carefully he reached up and patted her back. “A-alright, turn loose now,” he said. Jerry complied and took a step back to smile warmly at him.

“Thank you. For everything,” she said. “We would’ve just been wandering aimlessly without you.”

Trapper chuckled and started down the hill towards the settlement. “Wanderin’ yes. Aimless, no. You would’a figured yerselves out in time. Take care now,” he said as he trotted off. Jerry and I watched until he disappeared among the crowd of ponies.

We followed not long after, silent as we were bombarded with the calls from vendors extolling the virtues of their wares compared to the competitors around them. Dozens of voices, all of them crying out to be heard at once.

“Hey! You there! That armor looks like it wouldn’t protect you from an underweight radroach! Step right in and take a gander at what proper armor looks like!

“Ya call that a gun! That’s a pea shooter! Now this! THIS is a GUN! And if ya got the caps it can be YOUR gun!”

“Say friend, you’re lookin’ a little green around the gills. Oh goddesses, you actually have gills! Luckily for you, I have rad-away in stock!”

The press of bodies brought The Dig to the front of my mind. Too many ponies in too cramped a space. It was also every bit as loud as The Dig, though here it was the chorus of voices all talking at once rather than the constant clatter of tools on stone. I stepped through the crowd, my size and my weight allowing me to easily direct myself through the mass of ponies even as I had to force a path for myself. Jerry followed closely behind, unable to force her slender form through the crowd with quite as much ease but using my wake to her advantage. I kept my eyes peeled. Trapper had only said that we could sell our stuff here, but not to who or where they might be. All the stores seemed alike to me. Sure, some were big and some were small, but at a basic level they were the same.

I stopped mid-step, causing Jerry to bump into me. I gestured with my head and cut to the right through the ponies with Jerry in tow. The rusting cargo container was splayed open, a wooden facade added to the front and a flickering neon sign overhead read ‘Brass Tax’. Jerry and I stepped through the door and immediately the volume dipped to a more manageable constant rumbling. Inside was a large steel cage behind which hung a wide array of guns that I couldn’t begin to name or understand. A bored looking unicorn sat behind a counter in the cage, his attention fully engrossed with a somewhat burned magazine. We stood in awkward silence as the unicorn’s horn flared and a page carefully turned without a word. After a long moment, I cleared my throat.

“Excuse m-” I started, but the unicorn cut me off.

“No caps. No service,” he grunted without looking up from his magazine. My mouth hung open for a moment before I looked over at Jerry. She looked irritated, but shrugged and gestured for me to continue. I turned back to the unicorn and took a step forward.

“We’re not looking to buy. We’re looking to sell actually,” I said. The unicorn’s eyes peeled away from the magazine and scanned Jerry and I up and down briefly before returning to his magazine.

“Ya don’t have anythin’ I want. Scram,” he said with a dismissive wave.

“Now wait just a-” I started, but a sandy blur choked off my words with a resounding clatter as Jerry launched herself at the cage. The unicorn started, accidentally tearing his magazine as he suddenly stumbled back from the cage.

“You listen here, asshole! Do you have any idea the hell we went through to get here?” she hissed. The unicorn swallowed hard and shook his head. “You’re goddess-damned right you don’t! And we didn’t come all this way to be dismissed with a wave of a hoof by a shit-pickle like you!” I stared at her in silence. I knew that Jerry could have a temper, but usually it was much more controlled than this. “Now you will look at what we have to offer or I swear I will tear through this cage and force feed you your own ass!” She punctuated her words with a bang of a hoof against the cage, causing the unicorn to startle again.

“Alright! Alright,” he muttered as he set his magazine aside and gestured me forward. Jerry lowered herself down and sat on the floor, silent and glaring daggers at the unicorn. I set my saddle bag on the counter with a heavy thud, the wood creaking under its weight. Jerry’s bags contained everything we wanted to keep or felt we would need, and we’d transferred all the rest to mine.

“How much can we get for all this?” I asked as I sat down next to Jerry. The unicorn enveloped the bag in his magic and pulled it through the little opening in the cage. He opened the bag and proceeded to dump out its contents. He lumped all the like weapons into their own piles and began to look over them each in turn. He lifted one of the pistols, turning it over with his magic and then disassembled with the casual ease of a magic user.

“Hmm, not bad,” he muttered as he reassembled it and set it aside. “Where’d you score these?” he asked as the next lifted off the table.

“A st-”

“Scavenged some old ruins,” Jerry interrupted. I glanced at her and she gave me her signature ‘shut up, stupid!’ look. I turned back to the unicorn as he expertly looked through all the weapons and counted the spare bullets.

“The guns are alright, I can part them out and make one good one. I’ll give you…” he started, waving his hoof in circles in the air, “Three hundred caps for the lot,” he muttered.

“I see,” Jerry said flatly. “Then give us everything back and we’ll take them to another vendor and see if they will offer us something better.”

The unicorn narrowed his eyes and moved the guns aside to lean across the counter and peer at her. “Listen here, lady, ain’t no one here that knows more about guns than me,” he said, angry clear in his tone.

“Then I’m sure you won’t mind us taking them to somepony else and getting another offer.”

The stallion scowled as Jerry reached out for the bag.

“Alright, ya damn thief. Two thousand caps and you bankrupt me. That’s my final offer,” he hissed. Jerry smirked and nodded. The stallion muttered angrily under his breath as he ducked beneath the counter. I heard the clanking of a safe opening and then twenty small sacks appeared over the edge and were deposited onto the countertop. I stepped forward and reached out my hoof to take the bags as the unicorn sat back up. His eyes widened and his magic wrapped around my leg and yanked it through the small window, pulling my face against his cage uncomfortably.

“Hey! What the f-”

“Been a long while since I saw one of these! And never one quite like this,” he said, twisting my foreleg side to side as he inspected it.

“Glad I could make your day! Now leggo!” I growled as the shopkeeper appraised my limb in the most uncomfortable way possible.

“I’ll give you ten thou for the pip-buck,” he said suddenly, tearing his gaze away from the computer.

“Hey! You said I bankrupted you!” Jerry interrupted.

“Yeah. I lied. It's called business, lady,” he said, glancing away from me briefly. “Ten not enough? Fine. Twelve. In cold hard caps. Right now.” I narrowed my eyes and pulled my leg back. The unicorn’s magical field popped and fizzled away.

“Thanks, but I’m rather attached to it. I’ll take the two thousand caps you promised for the guns AND my saddlebags back. Thanks.” I said flatly. The vendor’s eyes narrowed and he shoved my saddlebags back through the window plus the additional bags that jingled with caps.

“Fine. But that was a one-time deal. Don’t come crawling back to me all broke and beggin’ for those caps,” he grumbled. I dropped the sacks of caps into my saddlebags and then put them back on.

“My loss, I’m sure. Take care now,” I said as I ushered Jerry out of the shop. We stepped back out into the throng of bodies and shut the door.

“Can you believe that guy?” she grumbled, “What slime!” she trotted down the street, the crowd parting around her as I followed. “I can’t believe he did that!”

“Jerry, wait up,” I called after her, doing my best to keep up. She was several paces ahead, muttering angrily to herself as she shoved bigger ponies aside. A few cast angry glares at her back but most just continued on as though nothing had happened. I trotted up beside her and stuck out my leg, stopping her in her tracks. “Calm down!” I said.

“Calm down?” she parroted, “You saw how that scumbag treated us! He wouldn’t spit on us if we were on fire!”

“He’s just a nopony, forget about him.”

Jerry turned to face me, anger in her eyes. “Exactly! He’s nopony, but apparently we’re still lower than that!” she shouted. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! We’re free now! It’s all supposed to be different!”

A couple of eyes turned our way, and more than a few ears. I stepped closer to Jerry, hooked my foreleg around her and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. “You need to calm down,” I said, glancing over her shoulder as a rough looking mare turned back to her own business. “Don’t shout that we’re escaped anything. We don’t know who might try to sell us back for a few caps.”

Jerry’s ears fell and she nervously glanced over her shoulder. Several heads quickly turned away, suddenly engrossed elsewhere. With a wince, Jerry turned back toward me. “Sorry… I was just… he dismissed us so easily,” she said, scraping her hoof across the ground. “We’re people too, Free.”

I reached out and placed my hoof on her shoulder. “I know that. And you know that. That’s the most important thing,” I said, offering her the best advice I could. She smiled weakly and pushed me back a step.

“That was cheesy,” she said with a chuckle.

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” I replied. “Though now I’m craving cheese. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any. A VERY long time.”

Jerry rolled her eyes and trotted away from me, shaking her head. “Dork,” she called back to me. She trotted a few feet away and then turned to look back at me. “C’mon. Let’s get something to eat.”

‘Violet’s wasn’t just loud. It was like a barely contained storm. The moment we’d pulled open the heavy wooden door the cacophony of dozens of voices spilled over us. A grizzled unicorn sat behind an equally grizzled piano, tapping away at the keys and adding another layer of noise on top of everything. From the back one of two doors flew open, smacking loudly against the wall as a maroon colt scampered out, a tray neatly balanced on his head. He wound through the crowd, depositing plates of steaming, food-like substances on various tables and then hurried back toward the door next to the one he’d come through only a moment before. It wasn’t just ponies, either. More than a few griffons stood out from the crowd, all of them heavily armed and armored.

But the biggest thing, literally, that stood out to me was the shaggy monstrosity that was planted next to the bar. It was easily twice my height and looked around the room with a distinctly bored expression. It was armored, but it looked less like it was put on and more like it was assembled around it each day, with thick rivets holding the heavy plates together. It dipped its head and spat a thick black gobbet of phlegm into a small container near its hoof. The spittoon clanged loudly as the beast resumed its silent vigil. I leaned over to Jerry, unable to take my eyes off it.

“What… is… that…” I whispered into her ear. Jerry shrugged and then trotted through the sea of tables and customers up to the bar. I hurriedly followed after and took a seat right next to her. A bored looking unicorn mare with pale purple hair trotted over to us. Her mane was dirty and disheveled and she glanced at the two of us briefly.

“What’ll ya have?” she asked over the noise, her horn flared with pink magic as a pair of dingy glasses floated over and were deposited in front of us.

“Actually,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the crowd, “We were hoping you could help us.”

The mare raised a hoof, silencing me with the gesture.

“I only help paying customers, kid,” she said flatly. I glanced at Jerry who quickly piped up.

“We’ll have two whiskies and some food. Whatever you have will be fine.” The bartender looked us up and down again and shrugged. A brown bottle floated over from behind the bar and she poured a generous amount of amber liquid into each glass and then into her mouth before returning it to the shelf. She wiped her mouth on the back of her foreleg before telekinetically giving a small bell a sharp ring. The door in the back shot open again, banging the wall once more as the same small maroon colt came running out. As he neared the bar, the hulking brute in armor knelt down. The colt leapt, scrabbling up the armor until he was perched on the beast’s back and looked at the bartender intently.

“Two specials, sweetie,” she said. The colt nodded, and hopped off his armored perch to scramble back into the back room.

“Thanks, Tramples,” the colt called as he disappeared through the door. The beast simply snorted and then stood back up, apparently used to the routine.

I must’ve been staring... blatantly. Because the next thing I know the bartender is waving a hoof in front of my face to get my attention. “Huh? What?” I stammered, turning back to face her.

She gave me a flat look. “Ya’ll haven’t ever seen a buffalo before, have you?” she asked.

I glanced at Jerry who was suddenly staring intently at her drink, her face flushed. “Is it… that obvious?” I asked.

The mare smirked, the first bit of emotion I’d seen her muster. “Noooo, not at all,” she said so sarcastically I could practically feel the condescending pat on the head it implied. As quickly as the smirk appeared, it vanished into a wash of boredom. “Buffalo are people too, kid. Don’t stare. Especially at Tramples. He’s a bit self-conscious. Name’s Violet by the way. So, you two need some help with something?” she added. I nodded and stared down at my drink.

“Yeah. We were told we might find someone here who could… guide us through the wasteland?”

Violet blinked slowly. “Regrettably, I know someone who needs the work,” she said.

“Is he trustworthy?” Jerry asked as she carefully lifted her glass and sipped the contents. She winced and set the glass down, but didn’t look entirely displeased.

“I trust him about a far as I can throw him. However, the prick owes me caps,” she stated as her horn flared. A bottle lifted off the back counter and filled a stallion’s glass and replaced itself on the shelf without her ever breaking eye contact. “I hear he’s reliable for jobs though.” she added.

“Do you know where we can find him?” Jerry asked.

Violet glanced at her and then turned to the armored buffalo near the bar. “Tramples, would you be a dear and fetch the idiot please,” she said. The buffalo snorted and stomped his hoof on the floor. A dozen ponies scrambled from their chairs and moved the tables apart, creating a path for the behemoth to cross the room unimpeded. Carefully he picked his way through the created path and tromped up the stairs.

The bar quickly returned to normal as conversations were picked back up. The back door thudded open again, the maroon colt appearing with two bowls balanced on his back. He approached where Tramples had been standing and frowned. Violet smirked again, her horn flaring as she levitated the bowls from his back. “I got them, sweetie. Thank you.” The colt saluted and the hurried back to work as Violet set the steaming bowls before us. They were filled with a thick, brown stew that smelled far better than it looked.

“What in Tartarus’s name do you think you're doing!? Put me down, right now!” I glanced up towards the second floor where the shouting had come from. There was a crash and the sounds of frantic struggling as the person continued to shout. “Tramples, you’re a good mate, but you be putting me down ‘for things get difficult!”

At the top of the stairs appeared Tramples. In his jaws, he held a suit of drab green armor with what appeared to be a unicorn in it. The unicorn thrashed in the buffalo’s grip, swinging its limbs impotently, like a fussing child struggling to get free of mom’s grasp. The tables parted once more and Tramples sauntered over. He set the unicorn down near me and then raised a hoof to jab it into the stallion’s chest.

“Violet wants you,” Tramples grunted in a voice that sounded like he gargled gravel and nails each morning.

“Well, why didn’ ya say so?” The unicorn took a moment to straighten his armored barding and then looked up. At first, I thought he was just bald, but when he lifted his head I understood my mistake. His eyes were milky white, which was admittedly off putting, but not compared to the missing portion of his face. The right side was just gone, leaving his yellowed teeth exposed and only a bit of gangrenous tissue that faded into his gums. My heart stalled mid-beat as slavering ferals gnashing teeth at me filled my head. I must’ve been staring again, because his eyes narrowed and he stepped uncomfortably close to me. “Be ‘onest, mate,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “I got somefin’ in my teef?” He turned his head, giving me a much clearer view of the rotted right side. A conflicting series of emotions washed over me as the fight or flight instincts waged an internal war.

“Stop bothering the customers, Sentinel,” Violet grumbled.

The stallion, thankfully, looked away and sauntered up to the bar. “C’mon now Vi," He leaned a foreleg on the bar and smiled at Violet. "If ya wan'ta see me, all ya hadda do was ask,” he said softly.

Violet rolled her eyes. “I found you some work,” she said, gesturing a hoof at me and Jerry. He gave us a quick look and then back to Violet.

“Vi, no. Not again,” he said shaking his head.

“Fine. Let’s talk about your ta-” Violet started. Suddenly Sentinel whirled to face us.

“Hi! My name is Sentinel. What’s the job?” he asked, all smiles... or rather half-smile, half rictus grin.

“Cheap mother fucker…” Violet growled and trotted to the other end of the bar.

“Uhh… I’m Free. This is Jerry,” I said, gesturing over my shoulder. Jerry waved nervously. “We need a… guide.”

“Well, ain’ you in luck! I happens to know these parts like the back o’ me ‘oof,” he said holding up his foreleg and examining it. He narrowed his eyes at it and then shrugged and lowered it again. “Where ya going?”

“Away,” I answered.

“From?”

“Everything.”

“How very vague of you,” he said, adopting a bored expression. I deliberately glanced at the crowded bar, then back at Sentinel to make sure he’d followed my gaze.

“Yeah. It is,” I said flatly.

Sentinel sighed. “Right, I’ll ‘elp you. Pay me tab, an’ I’ll grab me stuff,” he said as he trotted past us and back up the stairs. I watched him go, breathed a sigh of relief and then looked to Jerry.

“What do you think?” I asked her. Jerry shrugged and turned back to her food. She lifted the bowl in her hooves and sipped it gingerly. Her eyes lit up and she took another, deeper sip before setting the bowl down. Looking to my own bowl, I sampled it myself. It might have looked like someone had already eaten it, but it tasted far better than what I was used to. Careful not to embarrass myself again, I downed the contents of the bowl in one, long drought.

“He looks like he can handle himself,” she said. “I think.” She shrugged again as Violet trotted back over.

“He agree to help?” Violet asked flatly as she took my empty bowl away and set it aside.

I nodded and offered the mare a friendly smile. “Yes. Yes he did. He also asked me to pay his tab?” I said.

Violet’s brow rose. “Your funeral, kid,” she said. “Sentinel owes me three hundred eighty caps. And I need twenty for your meals.” I nodded before dipping my muzzle into my saddlebag and retrieving four of the bags we’d gotten. I lifted my head and set them on the bar. I was instantly aware of several eyes on me and the general noise quieting ever so slightly as conversations halted and attention refocused. Violet’s horn flared and the bags disappeared in a flash of magical energy. She fixed me with a harsh look. “That was dumb as shit, kid,” she hissed as she leaned across the bar. “Good thing you just hired yourself a guard.”

Feeling the tension in the room, Jerry and I decided to wait for Sentinel outside. As we headed for the door, more than a few ponies began to mutter between themselves. I’d screwed up this time. Apparently ponies didn’t normally wander around with that many caps.

“And here I was worried we’d only have Fortune’s ponies after us,” Jerry said as we stepped outside.

“Yeah, sorry,” I muttered. “Still new and learning, remember?”

It was only a few minutes before Sentinel had returned. He still wore his drab green armor, only now he had a matching helmet strapped to his head. His saddlebags were a similar green and clearly worn with age and use. Across his back rested a large machine gun that was easily as long as he was tall. It had a faint shine to it that spoke of care and proper maintenance that put all others to shame. He trotted over and sat himself next to me.

“Right, boss. Ya got a particular ‘away’ ya want to ‘ead in?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Not really… we’re looking to put some distance between us and... The Dig,” I said.

Sentinel nodded slowly, a smile tugging at his features. “So that’s your deal, ey?” A cigarette floated out of his bag and deposited itself in the corner of his mouth. He lit it with a magical spark and took a long drag, streams of smoke filtering out of the ruined right side of his face. He scanned us both up and down again and then stood. “Well, I ain’t takin’ you into the wastes unprepared,” he said as he trotted past us. Jerry and I quickly followed, keeping him in our line of sight. “Ya not got a lick of armor tween ya, and we need to fix that quick fast” Sentinel blew smoke out the ruined side of his face, “Lucky for you I know a Pony” We just followed silently as Sentinel lead us through Rust Rail.

We approached a small, open-air store. It was little more than three walls and a roof standing on the bare dirt. The sign above the counter read ‘Fair Play’s Armor’ in a mix-match of paints. A blue earth pony stallion sat behind the counter, diligently working on a sheet of metal into shape with his iron-shod hooves. Behind him were several beat up old lockers and a small forge that glowed with burning embers. The stallion glanced up as we approached.

“Sentinel,” he said as he picked up the sheet of metal and slipped it beneath the counter. “What can I do for you this time? Need more plating?” he asked. Sentinel glanced over his shoulder at us smiling.

“Actually, I got a couple of ponies in need of some protection,” he said. Fair Play craned his neck and gave me a very focused look.

“Hmmm, the big one might be difficult. I don’t think I have anything that could readily fit him,” he said as he turned his attention to Jerry. “I have a couple things she could use already. What kind of armor do you want, miss?” he asked, gesturing at Jerry to come forward. Jerry trotted forward and came to a stop next to Sentinel.

“Umm, something inconspicuous if you have it,” she said. “With lots of pockets, and some decent saddlebags.” Fair Play nodded and took a step back, looking beneath his counter. He bent down and reappeared with a key in his teeth. He trotted back to the lockers and opened one.

“What about a holster? Have you got a weapon?” Fair Play asked through grit teeth.

“I… I have a pistol,” she said to him. She turned to Sentinel and shrugged. “I don’t know anything about it. I’ve… never shot a gun before.” Sentinel nodded and his horn shone a hazy blue. Jerry jumped as the pistol she’d kept from the stable floated out and floated over to Sentinel.

“She’s gonna need a ten, Fair,” he called. Fair Play nodded and resumed digging through the locker as Sentinel moved the gun over the counter. It shuddered and then split into several pieces. Jerry watched keenly as Sentinel examined the pieces and made approving or disapproving grunts. When he was done the gun reassembled itself and then deposited itself back into Jerry’s saddlebag. “Gonna need cleaning, too,” he added.

“Can you teach me to do that?” Jerry asked. Sentinel chuckled.

“Not without a horn luv,” he added. “Now, the old fashioned way, wit’ yer ‘ooves, I can teach you that.” Fair Play trotted over and deposited a neatly folded bundle on the counter before her.

“Hold it up for her Sentinel,” Fair Play said. With a roll of his eyes his horn lit up again and the bundle lifted into the air and unfolded. “Right. So, armor that’s inconspicuous. I made this some time ago on a whim. It’s got reinforced inserts hidden in the fabric, subtle, but strong enough to stop small arms fire and turn a blade. Brown, to not stick out too much from the wasteland, and with a hood to offer some minor protection from the rain,” he said as the hoody folded back up and was put back down on the counter. “As for saddlebags,” he said, dipping his head beneath the counter and returning a moment later with a pristine pair of canvas saddlebags in his teeth which he set down next to the armor. “My standard saddlebags should suffice. The left bag has a built in holster that should fit a ten mil just fine.”

“They’re perfect! Where can I try them on?” Jerry asked, offering the stallion a warm smile. Fair Play seemed to brighten and gestured Jerry towards the back of the shop.

“There’s a spot between my shop and the next. Should be plenty of room back there,” he said. Jerry smiled again and trotted past, giddy with anticipation, and slipped out the back of the shack. Fair Play then turned his attention to me. He looked me over for a moment and then looked back at his wares. “I wonder…” he muttered as he trotted back to the lockers once more. He returned a moment later, dragging an old trunk by the handle. He sat up and wiped his brow and then popped it open with a swift buck.

Inside was a set of metal armor, polished to a silvery shine while certain things had been overlaid in black leather. The collar was thick and raised offering some protection for my face while the shoulders were made of overlapping layers that would still offer me some movement. “I uh… I made this for a griffon, but he never came and picked it up. It’s been a year now, I guess he ain’t ever coming back. The shoulders should fit you fine, but the helmet, legs and boots definitely won’t. I’ll have to make you something separate.” The armor, suddenly shrouded in blue magic, lifted from the trunk and floated over my head.

“‘Old still,” Sentinel said as he pulled Liberator and my ratty saddlebags free and then lowered the armor over my head. Even with the magical field I could feel its weight across my shoulders. But it was a comforting weight. One that promised protection. It felt… right. Straps were fastened and then tightened, holding the armor in place. Sentinel trotted in front of me and sat down next to Fair Play. “Fine work, Fair.”

“Thanks. Its capable of stopping heavy caliber rounds, particularly around the collar area. I’ll uh… get to work on a new helmet.” he added, rubbing a hoof through his shaggy brown mane. I twisted this way and that. Testing my range of motion. Even with the added weight, it didn’t bother me at all.

“I’ll take it,” I said, still shrugging my shoulders and getting used to the armor. “What do I owe you?”

Fair Play scratched at his chin absently. “Well, that armor was paid for upfront... But since you need a new helmet and such, how about we say a hundred and fifty for those.”

I nodded. “I need saddlebags too. What about for Jerry’s armor?”

“With the saddlebags and her armor, it’ll be another one fifty.”

I nodded, my gaze dropping to my old saddlebags and Liberator. “One last thing…”

I stepped out into the crowd once more, clad in my new armor, new saddlebags, and with Liberator resting in a pair of hooks on my left side that Fair Play had been gracious enough to attach. Now, in a fight, I wouldn’t have to work it out of its sling. It wasn’t as simple as a unicorn’s magic, but it would do in a pinch. As I waited for the others, I noticed something a little odd. The crowd seemed to flow around me, giving me just a bit of breathing room. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Jerry strode out next to me and I looked down at her, admiring how her hooded outfit fit quite nicely.

“Well look at you, a regular knight in shining armor,” she said with a smile as she used a foreleg to mock shine my shoulder pad. I felt my face grow hot and I deliberately looked away.

“Th-thanks,” I managed to croak. I struggled to think of something to tell her. Something that would also speak my true feelings. But Sentinel’s thick accent cut through the moment.

“There we are,” Sentinel rasped as he took another slow drag of his cigarette and then spat the smoldering butt onto the ground and ground it out under hoof. He exhaled a cloying cloud that mixed unpleasantly with his putrefying flesh. “Now there’s two ponies I feel can survive the Badlands.”

“You really think we can survive?” she asked. Jerry looked down at her armor and then looked meekly at Sentinel.

“With a little trainin’, a dollop o’ luck, an’ my not inconsiderable skill, you’ll be jus’ fine,” he said with a self-assured grin as he turned and trotted down the street. “C’mon Let’s get going. We got lotta ground to cover before dark.”

“Shouldn’t we stay the night?” I asked, trotting after Sentinel. He stopped and turned to fix me with his milky white gaze.

“We probably could,” he said. “‘Cept somepony thought it would be a good idea to go throwin’ caps around.” My ears drooped as he continued. “And that same somepony don’t have a good workin’ knowledge of ‘ow things work in the wasteland. Trust me, the sooner we’re moving the be’er. It’d put a real damper on my day if ya got yer throat cut in the middle o' night.”

“I’m not helpless you know,” I grumbled. Sentinel’s eyes narrowed and he took a step towards me, planting his hoof against my chest armor.

“No. But you’re green as grass. An’ that’s almost as bad,” he hissed. “You hired me. Let me do my job. Now come on, daylight’s wasting.” With that he turned and trotted off once more. Jerry stepped beside me, staring after him.

“Wow… he’s kind of a dick…” she muttered as she followed after him. With a smirk and a shake of my head, I followed her.

Footnote: Level Up!

New Perk: Brick Sh!thouse: Rank 1 -- You are big, muscled and scary. While wearing heavy armor you can more easily intimidate ponies.

Side Chapter - Unleashed

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Dig Deep dropped to his rear, gasping for breath. His body ached all over and, if the monumental effort it took to lift his head was any indication, he was dying. Around him lay the bodies of Cutthroat’s team of slaves and Minders - all of them dead and scattered about the room, having used the last of their strength to move out of the way for the others to continue their glorious work. One by one they’d done this, until only Dig Deep and Cutthroat remained.

“It… is done…” Dig Deep wheezed. Cutthroat shambled over and sat next to him, her eyes sunken and her skin drawn across her bones. Her once fitted armor now hung loosely from her withered frame.

“Then I am one step closer to freedom,” she said. Her head rolled on her shoulders and looked weakly at Dig Deep. Without a word he got up and staggered from the room on wobbly legs, distancing himself from the temple. Cutthroat’s horn flickered with power as she lifted a match. She scraped the head of it along the stones of the temple until it caught fire and then she dropped it onto the loose collection of dynamite, grenades and mines that had been piled in front of its sealed door. The fuse of a stick of dynamite sparked into life and Cutthroat smiled. “At las-”

The explosion rocked the building. The doors to the dig site ripped from their hinges and warped from force and heat as they flew to either side of Dig Deep, missing him by scant inches. Motes of dust rained from the ceiling and several of the lights died as the building threatened to succumb to its age and wounds and come crashing down around him. But it was only a threat. When the rumbling began to settle, Dig Deep staggered through the blasted doorway. Dirt and smoke hung in the air, burning his lungs with each breath. Cutthroat, who had been reduced to so much red paste, coated the floor and walls in a thin film. Dig Deep strode through her remains, his eyes locked on the gaping maw of the temple. The stone entryway was scorched black, only the capstone was missing, having been blasted into rubble revealing a black void beyond.

“Finally… after all this time…” he wheezed, struggling to catch his breath in the dusty air. He stepped up to the opening and, taking a deep breath, lifted a hoof across the threshold, his ears twitching as though listening carefully to something.

“No, I have come too far to stop now,” he said, and planted the foot on the ground inside the entryway. There was a rumbling, and the sound of stone grating against stone. Dig Deep’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, but only blood spilled forth. He looked down at the crackling blade that sunk deep into his chest. It pulled free suddenly, disappearing into the darkness before him.

“G-g-...” he choked, as he staggered back from the temple entrance. A massive shape followed him, shrouded by the smoke and dust from the explosion. A pair of glowing blue eyes stared down at him as he struggled to back further away, blood spilling from the wound and onto the ground. An ornate halberd, sparking with blue electricity cut through the smoke. Dig Deep lifted a hoof to shield himself, but to no avail. The blade slashed cleanly through pip-buck, foreleg and throat in equal measure and Dig Deep split apart.

“I can understand your employer’s concern,” the mustard colored stallion said, folding his hooves over one another as he leaned forward onto his desk. He wore a pristine pre-war suit that, combined with his behavior, made him the spitting image of a businesscolt from an age long dead. His mane was slicked back and a small, well-maintained mustache curled beneath his nose. “However, I can assure you my operation will not affect his.” He stared at the trio of armed and armored Griffins that stood across from him. They looked terribly out of place in the posh office which, despite 200 years, still had a carpet that was only slightly burned and intact windows.

A timid orange mare approached them, a polished metal tray neatly balanced on her back, on top of which was a selection of drinks and snacks. One reached out and plucked up a bottle from the tray and pulled the cork with its beak. He spat it across the room before taking a hefty pull of the amber liquid within as Fortune continued. “It’s been well over a decade since we’ve even sent teams as far north as Baltimare. All of our current stock is pulled from the local area.”

“I get that, I do. But the boss sent me to be extra sure,” the lead griffon explained as he reached back, yanked the bottle away from his compatriot and took a swig for himself. He wiped his beak on his arm before continuing. “The wheels are turning back home and the boss is moving forward with... whatever it is he’s got planned. He wanted us to make doubly sure you’re not going to interfere with our... ‘supply lines’.”

Fortune offered the griffins a well-practiced political smile. “Rest assured that we want nothing from Fillydelphia. We are quite content right here,” he said, gesturing at the room around him. “If you’d like I can have you shown around, perhaps seeing our operation more closely might alleviate some of Red Eye’s concerns.”

“Nah, I think we’re good here,” the lead griffin said, holding up a talon. “We’ll let Red Eye know that you won’t be stepping on his hooves.” Seemingly content, he gestured at his comrades with a wing. They filed out of the room, their leader taking one final pull from the bottle, draining its contents. He dropped the bottle to the floor and let out a loud belch as he left. Fortune watched them go and when he was sure they were out of earshot he sighed. “Feathered monstrosities…” He then glanced at the mare. “Remind me to get another bottle out of storage.” The mare, her eyes downcast, nodded meekly and returned the tray to the wooden cabinet against the wall before moving to retrieve the bottle.

“Sir,” an armored unicorn stallion called as he slipped past the griffins and stopped at the threshold of the office. Fortune glanced at him and waved him in with a gesture of his hoof. He recognized Backbreaker, the stallion he employed as Lead Minder. The stallion hurried in and shut the door behind himself. “Sir, there’s… been a development.”

Fortune tensed visibly and turned to face the stallion. “What sort of… ‘development’?” he asked slowly. The stallion stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“We’re missing another scavenging team, sir,” he said. As he spoke, Fortune slid out of his chair and walked around to the front of his desk, his eyes narrowing. “As you are aware, a few weeks ago Cutthroat’s team went missing. We dispatched a second team, Bruiser’s, along the same path more than a week ago with the intent of locating them, or at least their bodies. But they have not returned either.”

Fortune’s eyes narrowed and he turned sharply and returned to his desk. He began tapping furiously on the keys of the terminal on there, his eyes darting back and forth across the screen. He paused a moment later and flicked his gaze towards Backbreaker who had gone silent. “Continue,” he said.

“Yes sir,” Backbreaker said. “Though I’m afraid that’s all the information I have to go on currently. I am… hesitant to dispatch another team, let alone a squad of Minders to track them down. We don’t need any more disappearing acts. I wanted to know how you wanted this handled.” Fortune nodded as he typed away, only half listening.

“You said Bruiser?” he asked. Backbreaker nodded. The terminal flickered and a pixelated picture that looked vaguely like Bruiser appeared before lines of text replaced it. Fortune’s eyes quickly darted over the information, far quicker than Backbreaker could read. He only caught the barest of information about ruins inhabited by ferals and the words ‘steer clear’ picked out in bold before he scrolled past.

“I see…” he muttered before turning back to his Head Minder. “Send for Zero. I would like to speak with him on the matter.” Backbreaker swallowed hard and nodded, then hurried from the room. Fortune turned to the mare who had been quietly waiting nearby, leaned on his desk, and gave her a warm smile. “That will be all for today, Daffodil. I think you’ve earned a rest.”

The mare nodded and silently trotted out, closing the door after her. When she was gone, Fortune’s placid smile melted into a snarl. He raised a hoof and pulled back his sleeve, revealing a sleek gray pip-buck. He tapped at it angrily. This was why he’d sent one of his own this time. Sure, it was also to keep an eye out for anything that might be of use to him. But it was also a way to track the team’s progress. He pulled up his peon’s tag signal and-

-it was gone.

Not out of range. Or weak.

Simply… gone.

“FUCK!” Fortune screamed, slamming a hoof down on his desk, damaging its centuries old surface. The door to his office clicked open. He opened his mouth to scream at whoever it was, but the familiar black and white stripes of Zero choked off his anger. He gestured him inside and stood from behind his desk, moving to stare out the window at the mine proper. He looked down past the crisscrossing gantries and watched the colorful horde of slaves as they worked.

“You sent for me, master?” Zero said as he shut the door with the tap of a hind leg and trotted to stand in front of Fortune’s desk.

“Yes, Zero. I did,” Fortune said. His words were clipped, his anger barely under control. “We have a… problem... with disappearing slaves.”

“It is my duty to free you from your vexations, master. Tell me how I may be of use,” Zero said with a slight bow of his head. Fortune took a deep breath, willing himself calm.

“Tell me, Zero,” Fortune said slowly, “What do we do with slaves that cause trouble for me?”

“We make examples of them, master. For all to hear. So that their mistakes are not made again by others,” Zero said without hesitation. Fortune turned slowly around to face the zebra, who quickly lowered his gaze to the floor.

“And what about for those in my employ who disobey me?”

“The same, master. Your rule is absolute and failure is not to be tolerated.”

Fortune smiled and crossed around his desk to place a hoof on Zero’s shoulder. “That is why I like you, Zero. You know your place perfectly. Would that I had an army just like you. I could conquer the world if it was what I truly wanted.” Fortune removed his hoof and trotted back to his desk. “Zero, I have some missing slave teams I would like you to track down. Cutthroat’s and Bruiser’s. You find them, and you bring them back here. I will not tolerate any more failure.”

Zero snapped to attention. “It would be my honor, master,” he said dutifully.

“Excellent. I will give you a vehicle. Choose a team of Minders to take with you and bring me back all my slaves,” Fortune said flatly as he returned to his terminal.

“Of course, master,” Zero said with a bow. “What of the missing Minders?” Fortune looked up from his terminal, his face a mask of indifference.

“As I said, Zero. Bring me back my slaves.”

Zero bowed his head once more and trotted to the door.

“Oh, and Zero?” Fortune called after him. Zero paused in the doorway and looked back. “Take Backbreaker with you. He needs a reminder of what happens to those who fail me.” The faintest hint of a smile tugged at Zero’s mouth and he nodded.

“As you wish, master.”

Lash sat in the Minder’s canteen, staring listlessly into the chipped bowl in front of her. Dozens of off-duty Minders sat at the arranged tables, chatting loudly, eating, and generally just killing time. At her table though, it was just her and Whips. She felt… off. Her main source of entertainment had been gone for some time now, and without him to torment she felt… empty… lost. She sighed and pushed the bowl away with a hoof, content to stare at the notched and scarred table surface rather than eat.

“Somethin’ wrong, hun?” Whips asked from across from her. “Ya hardly touched yer food,” he said as he levitated a spoon to his mouth.

“Not hungry…” she muttered, not looking up. Whips frowned and his spoon lowered into his bowl. He telekinetically brushed Lash’s tangled green mane aside and looked into her eyes.

“What’s eatin’ ya up?” he asked softly. Lash jerked away from her father and glared angrily at him, her face bright red. She whipped around as she heard a snicker from a nearby table, but saw nopony in particular paying her any attention. After a brief moment she turned back to Whips

“I told ya not ta do that ‘round the others, dad!” she hissed through clenched teeth. Whips frowned and wilted in his seat.

“Slaver or not, you’re still ma daughter,” he said quietly. Lash rolled her eyes at that.

“Fat lotta good that’s ever done me,” she said as she stood. “I’ve got work to do.” Her bowl levitated up with her and she hurriedly slurped down the soggy Sugar Apple Bombs. Wiping her chin on her foreleg, she casually flung the bowl at the kitchen area where a tired and drawn unicorn caught it in his magic and began to clean it in a basin of water. She trotted down the aisle of tables, making her way for the exit when an ugly orange-maned stallion leaned into the aisle to stop her.

“S’matter hun? Somethin’ wrong?” he asked in a nasally voice. Lash felt her face burn and her blood boil.

“Fuck you, Chains!” she spat. She moved to go around him, but the stallion slid out of his seat and positioned himself in her way once more.

“Ah c’mon. Daddy’s little angel can’t take a joke?” he asked as he stood up straight to look down on Lash who glared daggers at him. The other slavers at his table chuckled, clearly egging on their friend. “But I guess the biggest joke here is you.” A hush fell over the room as utensils clinked against dishes. The duo stood in silence for a moment. Chains stood tall, a smirk on his face. Lash stood like a statue carved in stone. With an angry shriek, she attacked. Panic flashed across Chains’ face as Lash barreled into him, driving him to the cracked tile floor.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” she screamed as she brought iron-shod hooves down on Chain’s face in a flurry of blows. Slavers scrambled from their seats and onto tabletops, not to break up the pair, but to get a better view. Cheers for and against them both erupted as it devolved into a full on brawl. Chains shoved her off and scrambled to his hooves, only to get tackled once more. The pair rolled across the floor as Lash bit down on his ear, drawing a pained yelp from him as he bashed his hoof against the side of her head.

“Outta the way! Outta the fucking way!” Whips yelled as he tried to force his way through the crowd that had gathered, his eyes wide with fear. “Lash? Lash!” he called. But she couldn’t hear him. All she could hear was the blood thundering in her veins as she did her level best to rip Chain’s stupid head from his body.

“Is there a problem?”

Everypony froze. Lash’s hoof stopped just inches from Chains’ already bloodied nose. The crowd split as Zero strode forward. He stopped just shy of Lash and Chains, staring down at them dispassionately.

“Well?” he asked. Lash and Chains untangled from one another and scrambled to their hooves.

“N-no! No problem, sir!” Lash said quickly as she picked an arbitrary stain on the wall behind Zero to stare at. Chains goggled at her and then looked at Zero as he jabbed a hoof in Lash’s direction.

“Like hell there ain’t! That bitch tried to kill me!” He looked back at Lash as he wiped blood from his nose and lip. “Maybe a good skinnin’ll teach her her place!” Lash’s eyes widened, but she remained silent. Zero looked them over silently. The room was so quiet you could hear a bloatsprite fart a mile off.

“You two will come with me,” Zero said flatly as he turned and started for the door. Lash felt her heart pounding in her chest as her ears flattened against her head. She knew what a trip with Zero meant. Her eyes darted around, seeking help or a weapon. Anything that would save her from-

“Oh fuck no! I ain’t goin’ with you! Do I look like a slave, ya striped fuck?!” Chains bellowed loudly. Zero stopped mid stride, his shoulders tense. He turned slowly and everypony backed up a step. Everypony except Chains, who continued. “Why don’t’chu just run on back to your little house o’ horrors and filet yourself another slave.” he said, raising his hoof and giving Zero a dismissive wave.

Zero was like black and white lightning. Before Chains could even react he’d slipped inside his reach, hooked Chains’ foreleg in his own and twisted. Chains was lifted from his hooves and swung in an arc over Zero’s shoulder and back down onto the tiled floor with enough force to crack them. He topped off the move by putting his hoof down on Chains’ exposed throat and holding him in place as he surveyed the room. When no one else made a move he looked down at Chains, leaning a little more weight onto his neck to make him cough and sputter.

“You may not be a slave. But you serve the same master I do,” he said slowly and carefully. “Do not make me remind you a second time.” Zero stepped off Chains’ throat and the pony pulled away, sucking air and coughing. “Now, come with me.” he said, looking at Lash as well. “There is work to be done.”

Lash swallowed hard and cast a worried glance into the surrounding Minders. Her eyes fell upon her father, looking equally worried and perhaps a bit pale. Reluctantly she peeled her gaze away from Whips and followed Zero and Chains out the door.

“Are… are we in trouble, sir?” Lash croaked. Zero looked over his shoulder at the mare, eliciting a flinch.

“No. We have some missing tools. It is up to us to retrieve them.”

Despite her worry, Lash’s ears perked up and a grin crept into place.

Chapter 6: Eye for an Eye

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“That's the thing about monsters, they aren't the big, scary horrors from the darkest places in your nightmares. They're ponies, like you and me, who reached a breaking point and didn’t have the strength to keep them whole anymore” - Unknown

As we left Rust Rail we stopped and dropped some more caps on supplies: a dozen healing potions, enough food and water to last a couple weeks. My pip-buck clicked ominously as I sampled the water, but Sentinel insisted that it would be good enough for now and rushed us out of the town. Sentinel was right to keep us moving. At least two different groups followed after us. I don’t know for certain they were after us, but Sentinel said that just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone ain’t out to get you. With that mentality he kept us moving until we couldn’t anymore. When Jerry and I stopped to gulp down water and rest, he’d unsling his rifle and wander off only to return a few minutes later and sit with us for a few more before we started moving again. After three days, he seemed satisfied that we weren’t in any immediate danger and settled into a more leisurely and easily managed pace.

It was midday and while I stood in our small camp, Jerry and Sentinel stood several yards away, popping off shots at a trio of cans perched atop a small boulder. I had intended on watching, but when one of Jerry’s shots pinged off the rock and got just a little too close for comfort, I thought it safer to stay a bit further away.

With nothing better to do while the pair practiced, I tuned my pip-buck’s radio to the station I’d found the other night and worked on drawing Liberator. It wasn’t easy to twist and grab it. Its weight put too much strain on my neck. However, with a good strong buck, I could flip it out of its resting place, grab it between my hooves and swing it. It worked most of the time. Still not as good as a horn and magic, but I’d have to make do. If I was very lucky, or unlucky depending on the point of view, that buck would be the opening blow of a fight. As I practiced the move, the occasional shot would ring out, briefly overpowering the music that drifted from my pip-buck. After several minutes the music faded away.

“That was Dare Master by the Wailers. I tell you if not for those kind folks, we’d only be playing stuff from before the war!” a colt said in a cheerful yet dusky tone from my pip-buck’s speaker. “This is Arbiter Rain, bringing some news to all you souls out in the Badlands. As the illustrious Ghost Widow has already said, those terrible Gouged Eye freaks wandered a bit too close to Deepwater Gulch. But Deepwater has even deeper pockets and their mercenary guards sent the few Gouged Eye who survived the encounter galloping with their tails tucked.”

That was the second time I’d heard of this Deepwater place. It must’ve been a settlement or town. A big one, if I had to venture a guess. And these Gouged Eye ponies. Their name didn’t evoke much in the way of hope and their name only conjured up one specific thing.

“Don’t misunderstand me, folks. This was just a small raiding party, and the Eye are still a very real and dangerous threat. So all you good ponies out there, watch your backsides. Tenebraug’ll be pissed about this and likely have his psychopaths taking this out on anypony they can. The forecast for the foreseeable future is lead rain. Make sure you wear your armor and travel in groups.

“In other news, there’s been a bit of scuttlebutt ‘bout that slave mine to the west,” My ears perked up and I ceased my bucking to listen carefully. “People claim to have seen, get this, a tank come rolling out of its gate the other day. Personally, I don’t think that’s true. If those degenerates had a tank, then surely the EAF would’ve stepped in. Not that they’re much better... but I’d like to think that even they could see the problems that would arise from that kind of firepower in the wrong hooves. But enough of the bad. Let’s get back to the music, shall we?”

Music once more began to play, and as I tried to piece together what a tank was Sentinel and Jerry trotted over in silence. “Done with practice for today?” I asked as I switched off the radio. Jerry managed a nod, but didn’t look me in the eye as she sat herself down across from me and tenderly rubbed her face.

“She’s a tad sore, mate. Shootin’s like getting a hoof to the mouth. Ain’t fun til you’re used to it,” he said as he sat down as well. “Willin’ ta bet she’s also a little embarrassed she shot ya.”

Jerry’s face flushed and she suddenly became keenly interested in the dirt beneath her hooves. “I didn’t shoot him,” she whispered. “I only ALMOST shot him…” I offered her a smile.

“Sentinel, I got a few questions if you don’t mind,” I said looking away from Jerry and over at him. The ghoul’s milky eyes turned towards me and he gave a noncommittal shrug of approval. “You ever been to a place called Deepwater?” I asked.

“Aye. It’s a nice place. Did some merc work there for a spell. Why you ask?”

“Been hearing about it on the radio. The Gouged Eye has been harassing them,” I replied. Sentinel chuckled and shook his head.

“Them raiders are taking a piss if’n they think Deepwater is ‘fraid o’ the likes of them,” he said, his lips pulling back into a rather disturbing smile. “They got more caps’n they know what to do wif, and what they do wif’em is ‘ire mercs to protect them and theirs.”

“What makes them so wealthy?” I asked. The only rich pony I knew made his caps off the blood, sweat, and tears of ponies like me. I hated the idea that there could be more like him out there.

Sentinel rolled his eyes a bit and scooted closer. “Right, keep forgettin’ you lot are new,” he said. “Now look ‘ere, out in the wasteland, what’s the one thing everyone needs?”

I stared at him in silence for a moment before realizing he actually wanted an answer. Too used to being talked at rather than talked to, I guess. “Um… wat-”

“Got it in one! Water! Drinkable, life givin’ water. And Deepwater, shockingly, has gobs of it,” Sentinel said, jabbing a hoof into my shoulder as he continued. “Deepwater sits between the Badlands and the Haysee- shite, the Hellfire Swamps. ‘S like a natural fortress - only one, narrow way in, near the mouth o’ the canyon. Hellfire’s too dangerous ta traverse, so’s ya can’t come in the back. And nopony alive has climbed those mountains and lived ta tell the tale. That keeps ponies from comin’ in from above.” As Sentinel spoke he became more animated, gesturing with his hooves. “Aside from purifying water from the river ta sell ta blokes like you an’ me, they also have an underground wellspring what gives ’em fresh, clean water they keep for themselves.”

“But,” Jerry said, speaking up, “If they have all that water, why don’t they share it?”

“That’s not the way the world works, luv,” Sentinel said. His face fell and for a brief moment he stared off into the distance. “‘asn’t worked that way in a very long time.” Just as quickly as it had appeared, the bleakness faded to be replaced by his half smirk and he shrugged. “Anyway, ‘s not a bad place.”

“Is that where you’re taking us?” I asked.

Sentinel shrugged. “‘adn’t planned on taking you anywhere in particular. You said away, so we’re heading further away from them slavers what ‘ad ya.”

“Well, what’s in this direction?” Jerry asked, shifting a little closer as eagerness crept into her. “Anything?”

“Not a whole lot I’m afraid,” Sentinel said as he scratched the back of his head. “Mostly ruins and wastes for a good bit. Nearest place is Ministry Town I ‘spose.”

“Ministry? Wha-” Jerry asked.

“Don’t ask, love,” Sentinel cut her off with a shake of his head. “It's a long and boring story from well before your time.”

“Is it safe?” I asked. “This… Ministry Town?”

“Nothin’ is really safe,” Sentinel scoffed. “And Ministry Town is barely a town. Just a couple dozen or so folk live there. And that number dwindles when they get too close to the hubs themselves.”

“Have you got a better idea?” I asked.

For a brief moment Sentinel seemed like he wanted to say something, like he was mulling over various scenarios in his head. He looked… pensive, or torn. But instead he shook his head and shrugged. “At the moment? No. Can’t say that I ‘ave.”

“Then let’s head to this Ministry Town until you have one.” I continued. “It’s still better than where we were.”

Again, Sentinel shrugged. “You’re the boss, boss. Just promise to stay away from the hubs, ya?”

It was another couple of days before we reached Ministry Town. Gradually the dirt, mud, and brush gave way to pavement and civilization. Or, something that was like it once. At one point it must’ve been a bustling locale. I could almost see the ponies trotting back and forth as they went about their lives. Now, a bleached skeleton hung limply from a broken window, shattering the image I had been picturing. The blackened bones of bombed out buildings loomed on either side of the cracked and broken street or had long since spilled into it, making sections nearly impossible to traverse. The street itself was dotted with rusted and long abandoned wagons. Some of those contained the remains of their drivers. There didn’t appear to be anypony here, let alone a settlement. I glanced at Sentinel as we trotted, our hoofsteps echoing down the barren streets.

“You sure there’s ponies here?” I asked.

Sentinel nodded slowly, but kept his head on a swivel rather than looking at me. “Aye. There was last I checked,” he said. His hazy blue magic enveloped his rifle and moved it from his back to a more ready position. Cautiously, Jerry drew her pistol and moved to stand a bit closer to Sentinel.

I was about to comment on their paranoia when a shadowy blur flitted past just in front of us. Sentinel stopped in his tracks, aiming his rifle down the street in front of us. Jerry stood behind him, her eyes darting back and forth as she nervously chewed on her pistol grip.

“Hello there!” I called, taking a couple of steps forward.

“What’re you doin’?” Sentinel hissed out of the side of his mouth. I ignored him and continued forward.

“Hello? We’re looking for Ministry Town, can you help us?” A head poked around the corner at the end of the street and then pulled back almost immediately. “W-wait! Please? We think it's around here somewhere but-”

“Ain’t helpin’ no raider scum!” somepony shouted. A shot rang out and the pavement just in front of me chipped as the bullet missed its mark. Sentinel pivoted on a bit, his rifle roared and the masonry at the end of the street erupted in puffs of pulverized brick.

“Whoa! Hey! We’re not raiders!” I shouted, “We are NOT raiders!” I tensed, waiting for yet another shot.

“Yer not?” somepony called.

“No! Ya bloody, gormless twat!” Sentinel shouted angrily. There was a long moment of silence.

“Really? Cuz ya’ll look like raiders!”

Jerry holstered her pistol. “I promise, we’re not.”

Another drawn out pause.

“Ya sure?”

“YES!” the three of us answered in unison.

“O-okay…” A vaguely, pony-shaped collection of rags and filth poked its head out from around the corner that Sentinel had perforated. I glanced at Sentinel. His rifle was still raised, as if he were expecting a trap of some sort.

“Sentinel,” I whispered. His ear twitched slightly. “Put the gun down.”

“I will,” he said quietly, “Soon as I’m sure it’s safe.”

The filthy unicorn stallion approached us cautiously, a rifle that was held together with rust and hope floating just over his head. I glanced at his craggy features and the long, matted grey beard that hung from his chin. He was easily the oldest pony I’d ever seen. He stopped several feet away and eyeballed Sentinel.

“Ah, armed forces?” he asked, lifting a hoof and leaning back as though he might turn tail and run at a moment’s notice.

“Retired,” Sentinel said flatly.

The stallion relaxed and nodded. “Sorry ‘bout the shootin’. Gettin’ ta be ya can’t trust nopony these days,” he said as his rifle tucked itself across his back.

“Apparently…” Sentinel said as he lowered his rifle but didn’t completely put it away. “Can ya point us in the direction o’ Ministry Town, old timer?”

“Ministry Town?” the old stallion repeated, giving Sentinel a strange look. “Well, it’s about twelve streets over that way. But…” He paused, unease on his face.

“But?” I urged. The stallion looked pained.

“But they was hit by Gouged Eye th’other day. Couple’a folks lost their lives. Rest lost an eye.” he said solemnly. “They’s not too keen on visitors right now.”

“Shit…” Sentinel cursed. He turned to Jerry and I and sighed. “Ya sure this is where ya wanna go?”

Jerry glanced at me and then back at Sentinel. “I’m just following his lead,” she said quietly. “But… if there’s hurt ponies, we should try and help, right?” Sentinel fixed her with a blank look. “Isn’t that the right thing to do?”

“I ‘spose it is,” Sentinel said, looking to me.

“Then let’s see if there’s anything we can do. Even if it’s something as simple as giving them some healing potions,” I said as I trotted in the direction the old stallion had indicated. Jerry nodded politely and hurried after me. Sentinel hung back and wiped a hoof over his face as he sighed.

“You lot are gonna be the end o’ me,” he muttered as he trotted after us.

“H-hey!” the stallion called loudly. “You young’ins steer clear o’ them ministry buildin’s! They ain’t safe! A-An’ be careful! Them raiders is still roamin’ around.” He waited a moment and then turned and trotted in the opposite direction. “Nice folks.”

As the old stallion had said, about twelve streets over the road came to a dead end. A poorly constructed barricade twice my height stretched from blackened rubble to scorched wreckage across the street, barring passage to all. A single door had been built into it. Just big enough for a pony my size to wriggle his way through. Slowly, I reached out and banged a hoof on it. I gave three solid knocks, each one threatening to bring the whole slapdash wall crumbling down.

“Hello?” I called loudly. I could hear hoofsteps just beyond the wall, along with hushed and hurried whispering. “We’re not raiders,” I added. “We heard there was an attack and came to see if we could help at all.”

The door opened just a crack and a bloodshot eye peeked out. It darted nervously between us before the door opened more revealing a gaunt mare with a pale blue coat. Her mane, though unkempt was a brilliant deep blue. A bloody bandage was tied over her right eye.

“You’re not here to hurt us?” she asked timidly.

“No. We’d heard of the attack. We came to see if we could help somehow,” Jerry repeated, stepping forward. The mare nodded and backed up. Behind her stood two bandaged young unicorn colts, that couldn’t have been much past their cute-ceañera. Each of them levitated a rusty weapon of some sort and looked decidedly nervous.

“I-I think it’s okay, boys. Now you run on home,” she said. The unicorns exchanged glances and then lowered their weapons and trotted away. “We’ll take any help we can,” she said softly as we entered. “Do you know any medicine? Some of the others are terribly injured.”

“I know a thing or two, miss…,” Sentinel said as the mare lead us through their little town.

“Moonlight. Moonlight Arrow,” she said. The town was an arrangement of shacks and small huts built in a circle around what was once a roundabout. Walls of scrap and wreckage were built on each road, creating what should’ve been a well defended area. At the center was a small raised dais with a large carved stone depicting the golden sun of the goddess Celestia. Shockingly, vibrant green grass grew from beneath it.

“Is that...grass?” I asked incredulously.

Moonlight nodded. “Its enchanted. That grass is our livelihood. It grows quickly, so we harvest and sell it to traveling merchants.”

The town itself was in shambles. Several of the huts and shacks had been set on fire or riddled with gunfire. Moonlight led us towards a long communal building as she continued, “We’re all injured, but some worse than others. We quickly ran out of bandages and potions in the first few minutes.” From inside I could hear the tell-tale sound of agony as several ponies cried out for help in a chorus of pleading voices, or babbled prayers to goddesses I wasn’t sure were listening. She pushed open the door and a dozen ponies looked our way. Some looked up with hope in their eyes, others with fear. Jerry and I froze, unsure of what to do. Sentinel stepped past us and looked around, quickly assessing a situation that left both Jerry and I stunned..

“Who’s the doc here?” he asked loudly. An older green unicorn raised his hoof and Sentinel trotted over to him quickly. “Triage, doc. Who needs help now?” he asked.

“H-help? Well, that’d be Miss Marble Twister,” the doctor stammered for a moment before gesturing to his right. Sentinel and the doctor moved over to a thin pink mare lying on a stained mattress and writhing in agony as she held one hoof up to her face. The other hung limply at her side, a ragged hole in the shoulder that had begun to turn black and weep pus. Sentinel looked her over carefully and leaned closer. “I need to look at your head, love,” he said softly as he telekinetically took hold of the mare’s hoof and lifted it away. I saw the mare’s pink hide give way to the deep red of tissues that shouldn’t be exposed and the faintest traces of bone under that. It too was beginning to spoil. “Mother fuckers…” Sentinel hissed as he looked up at us. “Give me a potion. Give some more to the doc ‘ere,” he said, “bandages too.”

“Of course,” Jerry said as she trotted forward. She fished in her saddlebag a bit before retrieving a bottle. The doctor took it in his magic as she went to retrieve another.

“Please, allow me,” the stallion said, and floated out a couple more bottles and a stack of bandages. “Thank you, this will help greatly,” he said as he moved off to treat his patients. Jerry followed, unsure of how to help but wanting to nonetheless.

“What happened to everypony?” I asked, turning to look at Moonlight again. The mare had a thousand yard stare, and only faintly turned in my direction.

“Raiders…” she breathed. “Gouged Eye. They… they’re the biggest band in the area. Normally we give them some caps and some of our grass and they leave content. ” She blinked and looked up at me, her ears plastered back. “B-but this time…” Her voice trailed off as she absently rubbed at her bandaged eye. She didn’t have to continue. I might be new to the wasteland, but I wasn’t new to cruelty for cruelty’s sake. I looked around carefully, noticing that everypony save the three of us had a similar bandage over an eye...even the foals. The realization began to sink in. Now I understood why they were called the Gouged Eye.

“No! NO! STAY AWAY!”

The screaming snapped Moonlight from her haunted reverie and she galloped across the room to a small gray foal as he thrashed and swung his legs at invisible attackers. She knelt down next to the foal and gently stroked his black mane as she shushed him.

“Shhhh, it’s okay sweetie,” Moonlight said softly. The foal thrashed around until his forelegs wrapped around Moonlight and he hugged her close.

“I-it hurts Aunty Moon! It hurts!” the foal wailed.

“It's okay, Charger,” she repeated, “Some nice ponies brought us some more medicine. It’ll help with the pain.” I stepped forward and set a potion from my pack down next to the foal.

“Here you go, buddy,” I said as I sat next to the mare. The foal stifled a sob and buried his face in Moonlight’s coat. The mare scooped up the bottle, pulled the stopper with her teeth and held it down to the foal.

“Here Charger, I’ve got a potion,” she said softly. The foal sniffled and pulled his face from her coat. His remaining eye was shut, though an old pink scar ran across the lid. He reached out a hoof blindly for the potion as Moonlight helped him guide it to his mouth. He drank it down quickly, coughing and sputtering as he curled back up against his aunt.

“Why, Aunty?” he whimpered, “They a-asked me... Asked me wh-which one…” Moonlight’s face fell as grief washed over her. She pulled Charger closer and rocked him gently as tears streamed down her face. “I begged them not to take my good one, Aunty! I promise!”

“I know, baby. It’ll be okay,” she said, her voice cracking as she tried her best to remain stoic for the crying boy. She looked up at me, and I knew she was hoping against hope that she wasn’t lying to him.

I was at a loss. An anger welled up inside me like I had never felt before. I’d seen and felt cruelty. But this… this was different. He was just a foal. I opened my mouth to say something. Anything had to be better than silently staring. But my words were drowned out by the burst of a rifle being fired.

“Get out here!!” somepony shouted from outside.

Moonlight’s face fell and she clutched Charger tightly. “Goddesses… they’re back…”

Good, I thought.

“I know you’re in there! Come on out! Now!”

I stared out of a hole in the wall of the building and carefully took in the situation brewing outside. Six raiders stood in a half circle behind the speaker, a large unicorn that was probably their leader. The door to the security wall we’d come through gaped open, the door barely hanging on a single rusted hinge. Those colts from before must not have locked it. The stallion was big, his green mane a mess of matted dreadlocks. His coat was a darker green that accentuated the scars all over his face. I might’ve had a bit of sympathy for him, except that the intricacy of the scars told me they were some kind of... decoration. That thought made me sick. Who would do that to themselves? His armor was a mish-mash of cracked leather and rusting metal. Long spikes jutted off one pauldron and the rust gave way to the ruddy brown of dried blood. A large shotgun with a drum on the underside rested against his shoulder, held in place by a gray magical field. The ponies with him were no less intimidating. Clad in cracked and sun-faded leather armor, studded with spikes. Each of them bore a stylized eye that looked as though it had been painted on in blood.

“My patience is wearin’ thin! Get your asses out here! Or I swear I will cut your throats and leave you to die!”

I stepped back from the hole in the wall and moved towards the door. There was a sharp whistle from behind me and I turned to see Sentinel giving me a concerned look.

“What’re ya doin’, mate?” he asked.

“If somepony doesn’t go out there, then everypony in here gets hurt. I won’t let that happen,” I said as I lifted a hoof and pressed against the door. Light spilled in through the open door and I felt Sentinel’s hoof scrape against my armor as he tried to hold me back.

“Goddesses damned fool!” he hissed, hefted his gun and braced it against the window frame.

The raiders tensed, their weapons suddenly raised as I stepped out into view.. They had been expecting an injured and timid settler. Not me. Two of them even shared a concerned glance. The green stallion locked eyes with me and sucked at his teeth.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, giving me a backwards nod of the head.

“Hi there,” I called out, “Name’s Free. What’s yours?”

The stallion chuckled and looked over his shoulder at his comrades. Disingenuous laughter spilled from them until the stallion looked back towards me and it cut out like somepony flipped a switch. “Is this some kind of joke?”

I shook my head. “No joke,” I said, “Just hoping to see if we could be… civil… about this.”

A wicked grin split the stallion’s face. “Oh sure. Plenty civil. We just came to take what’s ours. Then we’ll happily leave these ponies alone. ‘Til the next time at least.”

“What’s yours?” I repeated. “And what might that be exactly?”

“Whatever we want,” the stallion said, his words dripping with venom and ill-intent. There was a predatory gleam in his eye and I knew that he wasn’t just referring to property.

“I think you’ve taken enough from these ponies. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” I said flatly as I raised a hoof and gestured towards the gate. The stallion’s eyes narrowed and he trotted forward, coming to within a few feet of me.

“Oh, we’ll leave,” he said, his shotgun lifting off his shoulder and pointing at me. “AFTER we get what we want from these fucks!” It took all I had to hold my ground. For a brief moment it crossed my mind that I might have made a mistake. But if I did nothing and somepony got hurt, then I’m just as guilty as the raiders.

“There’s no way I can change your mind?” I asked.

“Get the fuck outta my way!” he barked. The shotgun roared and I suddenly felt like I’d been bucked in the chest. I staggered back a step. That was explicitly a ‘no’. I took a breath, feeling an ache in my chest, but no extreme pain. On the plus side, the armor proved to be worth every cap as both it, and me, remained unscathed. The stallion balked when I straightened, unable to fully comprehend why I wasn’t lying in a pool of my own blood. I charged forward, looking to take advantage of his surprise. I lowered my head and barreled into him, driving the stallion into the ground. Before he could recover, I quickly reared back and brought both hooves down on his face, and the stallion went still. Shouts of surprise echoed from his entourage as guns were leveled.

That was when Sentinel opened fire. His machine gun loosed the throaty cough of a controlled burst. I saw one of the raiders lose the top portion of his skull in a puff of red and topple to the ground, causing the others to scramble for cover.

Sentinel kicked open the door to the communal building and galloped into the courtyard. “Ya bloody daft bastard!” he shouted as he dropped down next to the rusted hulk of a wagon. “Take cover!”

A staccato burst of weapons fire stitched across the ground on either side of me driving Sentinel’s point home. I scrambled into the shadow of the roundabout and pressed my back against the stone.

“Alright! I’m in cover! Now what?” I shouted at Sentinel as bullets bit into the concrete just above my head.

“Now shut up and let me work!” Sentinel barked. He twisted out of cover and with an almost machine-like efficiency began to return fire on the raiders as he moved forward. They scattered in all directions, ducking and diving to avoid gunfire. One pony, who wasn’t as quick on his hooves as the others, fell to the ground, blood spilling from the wounds that Sentinel had put in his side. He shrieked and pressed his fore hooves over the wound as he kicked his hind legs at the dirt, struggling to push himself toward cover.

“Help! Help me!” he screamed, reaching out with a bloodied hoof to somepony just out of sight. “Marrowsnap! Please!”

“Shut the fuck up, Patch!” one of his comrades shouted. Either unwilling or unable to comply, Patch rolled onto his back, his hooves clamped tightly to his wound, and screamed; the sound lending to the clamor of the warzone the town had become. Sentinel’s gun clicked on empty and he dove for a small seating area, rolling into the cover it provided. Once there he kicked over a table and dropped low behind it.

“‘Ey! Get your big grey arse out there and ‘elp me!” He shouted over at me. The magazine popped out of his gun with quick flick and a new one slammed into place just as quickly. Bullets pinged off and punched clean through the ancient table, quickly whittling it down piece by piece.

“How?” I shouted back. “I tried the diplomatic approach!”

“You can’t be diplomatic wit’ raiders, ya daft idiot!” He raised his rifle and fired blindly over his improvised cover. “They only know one ‘fing!”

I opened my mouth and promptly shut it as a bullet whistled past. The stallion had a point that was hard to argue with. “Fine! You want my help? You got it!” I shouted. I darted out of cover and dashed toward the raiders, my head low.

“What the fuck are ya doin’?” Sentinel screamed after me. I ignored him, galloping at full speed straight at the raiders. I saw eyes widen and weapons raise. Bullets glanced off my shoulder armor and flattened against my chest plating, but I was big, and had momentum. I leapt over their cover and landed hard on the first poor slob there. Leather armor might be good for some protection, but it doesn’t do too much against crushing weight. I dropped on him like a ton of bricks. I felt something give below me. I rolled over the raider and onto my hooves, locking eyes with the bewildered brown mare in front of me. For a moment we stood there, staring at one another, then she blinked and looked down at her comrade. I spun around and delivered a bone crushing buck to her chest that drove her into the open. The moment she broke cover Sentinel’s gun roared and she fell in a bloody, perforated heap.

Now there was nopony between me and the two remaining raiders. Bloodshot eyes glared at me and rifles raised.

“Incoming!”

Both raiders turned suddenly just as a glass bottle trailing flame fell and shattered against the concrete barricade they’d been behind. Fire splashed over them and suddenly I was the least of their concerns as they screamed and burned. I whipped my head around and saw Jerry and Moonlight standing just outside the communal hall, another firebomb at the ready. Sentinel trotted over carefully, stepping over the wounded Patch who had gone still in a pool of his own blood. He came to a stop next to me and casually put a single round into the head of each burning raider, ending their screaming.

“Goddess-damned fool,” he said, turning to me. “Ya could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

“What’d you want me to do? Let those psychos do what they want?” I asked. I was storm of emotion inside, unsure if I should be angry at the raiders, proud for standing up for these ponies, or sick at all the bloodshed around me. And now Sentinel was all up in my face about it.

Sentinel rolled his eyes. “Of course not! But ya bloody well don’t fucking chit-chat wit’em either!” he shouted, jabbing a hoof into my chest. I swatted his hoof away with my own and narrowed my eyes.

“I was trying to help these ponies!”

“Oh really? And ‘ow did this ‘elp them? Ya gonna stay and protect ‘em?” Sentinel asked, kicking the nearest burning corpse. “The Gouged Eye is big. They have a hundreds more just like this one. Ya gonna fight them all off?”

I glanced down at the body. “I-”

“All you’ve done is ensure that they’ll be back, with more ponies, and more guns,” Sentinel said, stepping almost muzzle to muzzle with me. I held his gaze as long as I could, but then my eyes drifted back towards the community hall where several scared ponies now stood, looking upon the scene of carnage unleashed upon their small town square: a half dozen dead raiders, blood and spent brass littering the street. My ears plastered against my head.

“I… I jus-”

“You jus’ didn’t think!” Sentinel hissed so only I could hear him. “You’re too green, too fresh, to be goin’ off ‘alf-cocked like that.” Without another word Sentinel turned his back on me and trotted back to everypony else, calling out to anypony who was hurt and needed attention. I looked around me again, taking in the dead raiders and felt my resolve weaken.

He was right.

I didn’t think. I’d just acted. I marched right out here, so sure I was doing the right thing. Positive I was helping protect others. I looked at the townsponies. They looked worried. Eyes darted this way and that, and hushed whispers of concern and fear.

“...what now?”

“They’ll kill us for sure!”

“What has he done?”

“We’re doomed…”

I hadn’t felt this small since Whips had first slapped a chain around my ankle. I scraped my hoof across the ground, searching for the right thing to say, if any.

“Alright folks,” Sentinel called, saving me the trouble. He clambered up onto the rusted bulk of a truck and made sure that all eyes were on him. “I know you’re scared. I know you feel like you can’t be safe ‘ere. Well, for the time bein’ that’s true.”

The townsponies immediately broke into an uproar. A disjointed chorus of voices, several of which called for my head for ruining their lives. Sentinel waved his forelegs at them to regain control. “‘Ey! Shut it! I’m talking!” he barked. Gradually the voices quieted. “Let me finish. Ya can’t stay ‘ere. Not unless you’re willin’ ta die.”

Again the chorus erupted. One pony in particular made his voice heard above all others. “Where in the hell are we ‘sposed to go!?” he shouted, waving a hoof in the air angrily. Cries of support and agreement followed and once again Sentinel waved them silent.

“That’s simple, ya go to the E.A.F.,” he said flatly. The crowd was looking more like a riot by the minute.

“The E.A.F.? Have you lost your damn mind?” shouted one pony.

“They’re just as bad as the raiders!” added another.

“You should just kill us yourselves and be done with it!”

Sentinel’s rifle roared as he sprayed the sky with bullets, and the ponies fell silent. When he was certain he had regained their attention he lowered his weapon and deposited it across his back once more. “Right, here’s the thing none of you seem to be asking! What other option have ya got?” Eyes glanced back and forth, but nopony spoke. “I know they ain’t great. Better than you lot, seein’ as how I remember when it was!” he paused, letting his words sink in. “Go to the E.A.F., let them take you in. Bad as they are they still protect and provide for their own. The other option is waitin’ here til the Gouged Eye come lookin’ for revenge.”

The crowd was a hum with whispers and Sentinel stood patiently, almost looking bored as he waited for them to come to a decision. All the while the thought that this was my doing as cementing itself in place in my head. I’d provoked the raiders. I’d doomed this town.

“Y-you’ve said your peace!” the doctor piped up. “And we’ll take it under advisement. But for now, we just want you to leave.”

Sentinel shrugged and hopped off the wagon and started toward the gate we’d come in. “C’mon,” he said softly. “Let’s go. We’ve done enough here.” Jerry nodded solemnly and followed him. I lifted a hoof to do the same, but remained rooted in place. It felt as though there was something binding me to this spot.

“I-I’m sorry,” I called to the ponies. A few heads turned my direction. “I was just trying to help.”

“How does this help?” A stallion shouted, pointing a hoof at the bodies.

“I-It doesn’t… But I couldn’t just… stand by and let them take more from you,” I stammered even as I backed up a step. “Nopony should have to live in fear…” I don’t know what I was expecting. Perhaps I had hoped for forgiveness. I don’t really think they knew how to respond either. I turned in silence and trotted after the others. Sentinel paused as we passed the raiders, taking time to pull anything valuable off of them. Ammo and caps floated off their bodies and deposited themselves in his saddlebags. He moved to step over the leader and hesitated. His rifle slipped off his back and he cracked the stallion in the head with the butt of the rifle. His magic enveloped him and he half dragged the dark green stallion towards the gate.

“What are you doing?” Jerry asked. Sentinel gave her a wink and said nothing as she followed him out. I stopped at the gate and looked back at the town once more. The ponies hadn’t moved from watching us leave. With my ears plastered back and my head hung low, I stepped out the gate and away from Ministry Town.

By nightfall we’d set up in one of the fire gutted buildings a couple of blocks from Ministry Town and a couple floors up. I couldn’t tell what it had been originally. The furniture that remained was either rusted metal or so much charcoal. Sentinel had taken great care in tying the raider pony to a reasonably sturdy chair, carefully pairing legs and securing them individually. Confident that the raider wouldn’t be able to free himself, he trotted over and sat next to the small fire Jerry had started.

I glanced at the trussed up raider and then looked at Sentinel. “What’re we doing with him?” I asked with a jerk of my head towards the raider. Sentinel glanced over, the flickering firelight casted his face into hellish relief.

“Oh that? Intel,” he said, like I should know what that meant. When he didn’t elaborate further I looked to Jerry who was quietly eating a can of Cram.

“Thanks,” I said. She stopped chewing and gave me a strange look. “For saving me in town,” I added. She nodded and looked down.

“They could’ve killed you,” she muttered. My ears lowered and my heart sank just a bit. Not her too. “You don’t need to charge headlong into everything. We hired Sentinel for a reason. We should listen to him.” To his credit Sentinel remained silent, fixated on stripping his rifle and carefully examining each piece.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “But I can’t stand by and…” I sighed and stared into the fire. “I need to be strong, Jerry. I need to be brave. I need to stand up for those who can’t or who are afraid to.”

“It ain’t your job to save the wasteland, kid,” Sentinel chimed in, not looked up from his disassembled rifle.

“I’m not trying to save the wasteland, I’m just…” I faltered, unsure how to continue. My thoughts were a jumble of ideologies. Hero of the wasteland. Savior of ponies. Jerry’s special somepony. All things I wasn’t sure I was or could be. “I’m just trying to be the best I can,” I finally said.

“You’re fucking stupid…” All eyes turned towards our guest as his head lifted, his matted dreadlocks wriggling like snakes at the movement. His eyes were bloodshot and not entirely focused as he looked between the three of us. He snorted and spat bloody mucus onto the fire. “You think you can help anypony in the Badlands?” he rasped. “Nopony is safe from us…”

“Tough talk from the bloke what got knocked stupid twice in one day,” Sentinel said with a smirk as he quickly reassembled his weapon.

“Why were you after the townsponies?” I asked. The raider strained against his binds, the ropes groaning.

“Let me go, and I promise your deaths will be somewhat painless,” he hissed. Jerry’s eyebrow raised and she stifled a laugh.

“With an offer THAT good how can we possibly refuse?” she said in an overly exaggerated tone. I got to my hooves and stepped in front of the raider. He slowly looked up at me, the fire light reflecting the rage and madness burning just behind his eyes.

“Answer my question,” I said. The raider sucked his teeth and after several seconds spat bloody phlegm onto my armor.

“Because they was there!” he hissed through grit teeth. “Because the Gouged Eye take whatever and whoever we want!”

“If you’re expectin’ anything like sanity from that one, you’re expectin’ too much,” Sentinel said flatly. I don’t know what I was expecting. I suppose I was just looking for an answer I could understand. Something that made at least a bit of sense.

“So,” I said after a moment, looking toward Sentinel. “What were your plans with him?”

“Figured I’d ask ‘im real nice-like for some intel on the Gouged Eye,” he said flatly. Sentinel drew a combat knife from the sheath affixed to his armor and then gestured with it at the bloody phlegm he’d spat onto my chest. “Then when ‘e spits on me face, I stop being all friendly.”

I glanced over at the raider and then at Sentinel. “Do what you gotta do,” I replied flatly. He fixed me with a genuinely confused look. Slowly his features warped into a wicked grin.

“Shit, don’t need to tell me twice,” he said as he hopped up onto his hooves. His horn flickered and his hazy blue magic grabbed the back of the chair. The raider tilted backwards and the chair ground against the floor as Sentinel dragged him out of the room. “C’mon then, let’s ‘ave us a tongue-wag.” Despite his gruff demeanor, there was a look of fear in the raider’s eyes as he was pulled from the room. Pushing the situation from my mind, I lowered myself down next to the fire. I stared at it for several seconds as I felt Jerry’s gaze boring into the side of my head.

“What?” I finally asked.

“He’s going to torture him,” she whispered.

“Probably,” I said with a shrug. I glanced at her and saw the confusion in her eyes. “What?” I repeated.

“You can’t let that happen,” she said, reaching out for me.

“Weren’t you just telling me a minute ago that we hired him and we should listen to him?” I asked incredulously. Jerry’s eyes fell and she looked away.

“Well… yes, but I didn’t expect him to go all… ZERO on somepony,” she muttered.

“That wasn’t a pony. That was a monster in a pony’s skin,” I said, pointing a hoof after the duo. “Don’t give him a second thought, because he wouldn’t give you a first.” Jerry glanced down at her half eaten can of food and pushed it away.

“I don’t know that I can do that,” she said, mostly to herself. “Nopony is born evil. Something twists and… and warps them that way.”

I tried to remain stoic, but Jerry’s words wriggled their way into my mind. I found myself seeing the faces of all the slavers I’d known. I watched as they regressed, their features softening and their scars disappearing, until all that was left were the smiling faces of foals.

Jerry made a good point.

“Dammit,” I muttered as I got to my hooves and trotted out the door.

Sentinel had relocated a couple doors down. I found him easily enough as his voice was the only sound save the creaking of old buildings and the skittering of mutated insects.

“Lissen, I’m a reasonable stallion. Jus’ answer me questions and I promise I’ll slot ya right quick. It’s really a deal ya see. Seein’ as how I’m sure them blokes in Deepwater wouldn’t offer such kindness.” Sentinel sounded almost reassuring, but judging by the silence, he wasn’t making much progress in convincing the raider. “C’mon. I can tell ya don’t mind getting bloodied. But if’n ya don’t talk, I’m gonna hafta start removin’ bits of ya. And believe you me, I’ve gotten quite good at it in my lifetime.”

There was another pause, broken only by the sound of the raider spitting at Sentinel.

“Screw off, rotter,” he hissed. “Haven’t you got brains ta munch on?”

“S’matter o’ fact, I do. Which makes you very lucky as I doubt ya got any in that noggin o’ yours. But keep up the lip, an’ I promise I will find out.”

I stepped into the doorway to see the tip of Sentinel’s knife pressed to the raider’s forehead. Their eyes were locked and neither was blinking. I cleared my throat and the raider was the one who looked away first, his eyes boring holes into me.

“Sentinel, I need a minute,” I said, jerking my head back the way we’d come.

“Can it wait? I’m just about to start carving this turkey,” he said, digging the point of the blade into the raider’s head just a bit. I could see a bead of blood well up at the tip and slowly run down his face.

“It can’t actually,” I said, raising my voice just a bit. Finally Sentinel looked my way. He seemed to struggle internally for a moment before the knife sheathed itself and he trotted over. He hooked a foreleg around my neck and we moved away from the door.

“Alright, what is it?” he said in hushed tones.

“Listen,” I said, pausing to organize my thoughts in a way that might make sense to the old stallion. Instead what came out was a jumbled mess. “I was… we were… you’re not gonna torture the guy are you?”

Sentinel rolled his eyes and gave me a look I was all too familiar with. That ‘You poor stupid pony’ look that I received frequently at The Dig.

“Course I was,” Sentinel said. “Ya think that bloke’s gonna spill ‘is guts without spillin’ his guts?”

“Well,” I said, once again picking my words carefully, “Can you… not?”

Yup, I tiptoed through that with all the grace I knew I could muster. Sentinel’s expression didn’t change. Poor stupid freed slave doesn’t know how the wasteland really works. “It's just… nopony is born bad, right?”

“Where was this compassion in Ministry Town?” Sentinel asked. I looked down at my hooves and scuffed the ground.

“Well… I…”

“Ya think he wouldn’t kill you ‘ere and now if given ‘alf a chance?” Sentinel said, gesturing back towards the room. “That thing in there is so far gone from a pony, boy. ‘E’d gut ya while ruttin’ your girlfriend if’n ya let’em. Go on, get back the lass, ya shouldn’t ever be alone out ‘ere. I’ll question ‘im nice and quiet like so as not ta disturb ya. Slot ‘im, and be back in a few minutes.” He gave me a pat on the cheek and then trotted back to the raider. “Right then! Where were we?” he called as he went back in and shut the door behind him. I was left standing in the dark. The voices from the room were muffled, but there was no screaming.

After a minute of hesitation I turned and trotted back to the comfort of the fire, leaving the grizzled soldier to his work. Jerry was sitting where I’d left her, not a hair out of place on her head. As I approached she looked up at me.

“Did you talk to him?” she asked.

“Y-yeah, sure did,” I said as I sat next to her.

“Did he listen?” she pressed. I shrugged, deliberately not making eye contact.

“I think he heard the words I said,” I muttered. Slowly my ears began to fall and I looked at Jerry. “But, I doubt he did much more than that with them.”

“Oh…” Jerry said softly, and we let the quiet wash over us.

Footnote: Level Up!

Chapter 7: Distraction

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“It simply will not do to have this information pop up now, darling. We’ll just have to bury it until after this whole war is over with. Can’t have the ponies of Equestria doubting our Princesses, now can we?” - Rarity, Ministry Mare of Image

A gray and dismal morning greeted us when we awoke. It had started to rain during the night, and seemed as though it would carry on throughout the rest of the day. Sentinel was sitting by the fire when I woke, keeping a silent vigil and stirring the burning embers with a rusty pipe to breath renewed life into them. There was no sign of the raider, and I had no intention of asking about him. I was pretty sure I had the answer already.

“Eat some breakfast,” Sentinel encouraged as Jerry roused from slumber. She yawned and stretched like a cat before rubbing her eye with a hoof. “An army marches on its stomach. An’ we need to do a lot o’ marchin’. More Gouged Eye will be coming if our friend was to be trusted.”

We pulled faded, pre-war foods from our saddle-bags and ate in silence. I glanced at Jerry, watching her stare at Sentinel. Her brow was furrowed and she scraped a hoof against the floor hesitantly. She wanted to ask him something. And that something probably had to do with our now missing raider.

“You two eat up, I’ll be back,” he said as he got to his hooves, telekinetically grabbed his rifle and trotted out the door. The silence hung over us still, fading only when I cleared my throat to get Jerry’s attention.

“You stare any harder and that stallion’s head will start to smoke,” I said. Jerry sputtered and looked down at her hooves.

“I-I just… I want to know what he did with the raider…” she said quietly.

“I’m betting you’d change your mind if you did. Just let it go, what’s done is done,” I said, reaching to place my hoof on her shoulder. She turned to me, strands of her mane falling across her face, framing it just perfectly.

“I guess you’re right,” she said with a weak smile. “Thanks, Free.”

This was it. I could just tell her now. Get it all out in the air.

“Jerry,” I mumbled. She looked at me with those emerald eyes of hers and my heart began to pound in my chest. She was just looking at me, patiently waiting for me to continue, but the words caught in my throat. Stopped dead as a storm of thoughts rattled my brain.

Just tell her.

No! Don’t tell her!

Tell her how you feel.

What if she doesn’t feel the same?

How you’ve always felt.

What if she laughs?!

Just get it off your chest.

“Jerry, There’s so-”

Sentinel bolted back into our camp, his eyes set with grim determination. “Douse it!” he said. Before Jerry or I could react he took up a bottle of water from our supplies and poured it out on the fire. The embers crackled and died even as Sentinel stamped them into soggy mush.

“What’s-” Jerry began, but Sentinel shushed her and moved to the nearest window. He pressed low and flat against the wall, peeking down into the street. The air grew thick with tension as Jerry and I stared at Sentinel. Then, slowly, we could hear something.

Voices.

Lots of voices.

“Bugger…” Sentinel breathed. I got to my hooves and edged slowly up to him to look out into the ruins of the town. The street was empty at first. Then a dirty, armored stallion trotted into view. Then another. Then a mare in a battle saddle. They came alone, and then in pairs, and finally in groups. There must’ve been dozens of them, each one clearly displaying the stylized eye I’d seen before.

“What’s going on?” I hissed at Sentinel.

“Our friend said what was left of their raidin’ party were cuttin’ thru ‘ere on their way back from the whuppin’ they got from Deepwater,” he said.

“How many?” Jerry asked.

“More than we can hope to fight,” he replied. He looked away from the window and nodded his head at our camp. “Pack up. Quick an’ quiet.”

Without further prompting, Jerry and I began collecting our gear and supplies and shoving them haphazardly back into saddlebags. We could sort out whose was whose later. Then, I froze as a thought wriggled its way into my brain. I moved back to the window and looked at the passing raiders. They were all heading in the same direction. My eyes widened and my blood ran cold.

“They’re heading for Ministry Town…” I breathed.

“That they are,” Sentinel agreed. I turned to him, goggling.

“We have to do something!” I said.

“Like what? Take on an entire army of lunatics?” Sentinel asked, gesturing out the window.

“We’d do better than those people in town. They’re already injured and terrified,” I hissed. I stared out the window as the raiders marched past. I couldn’t let them get to the town. I couldn’t ruin their lives any more than I already had. I stepped from the window, making my way to the door. Sentinel moved to step in front of me, placing a hoof on my chest.

“What’re ya doin’? Are ya touched in the ‘ead?” he asked, his voice a barely controlled whisper.

“Free,” Jerry called softly from behind me, “You can’t go out there.”

“I’m not letting these psychos take anything more from the townsponies. If you’re not gonna help me then go back to Rust Rail and get out of my way,” I said as I shoved Sentinel aside and trotted out the door.

“Free? Free!” Jerry called after me, but I didn’t listen. Couldn’t listen. Those ponies were in danger, and it was all my fault. I had to do something… anything…

What the hell was I doing?

I swear it was like tunnel vision. Just step out in front of the horde of raiders and stop them from hurting the town, Free. Don’t bother thinking about the how’s or why’s, nooooo, that’d make something too much like sense!

I took a deep breath and peeked out into the street from the ruined first floor lobby of the building. Raiders were everywhere, milling about in small groups. Several were nursing wounds, but none of them serious. Judging by what I’d seen in the town, they probably left anyone seriously wounded to die.

Okay… just… just what? What could I possibly do against so many raiders? I had no choice. I’d just step out into the street and demand they leave. They didn’t appear all that ready to fight. Maybe I could convince them I had a bunch of mercenaries with me.

I took a deep breath.

“This is a fucking stupid plan,” I whispered as I lifted a hoof. Suddenly a green clad foreleg hooked around my neck and yanked me back into the room. I toppled onto my back, and stared up at Sentinel’s disfigured face. Oh thank the goddesses it was him and not some raider.

“I swear ta the Goddesses you are a fuckin’ barmy twat!” Sentinel hissed. “You’re gonna get me and the lass killed!” He let up and I rolled onto my hooves as Jerry came trotting up. She shoved past Sentinel and smacked me across the face with surprising force for such a small mare.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” she hissed, glancing around me to ensure that she hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention in her anger. Satisfied that we weren’t about to be attacked, she returned her glare to me and struck me again and again as she spoke. “Stop! Doing! Stupid! Shit!”

“Ow, stop,” I said, raising a hoof to defend myself. “I can’t let any more suffering come to those ponies. Especially since it’s my fault.”

“I hear ya, I do,” Sentinel said, “But that don’t mean ya get ta go off all ‘alf cocked. Ya got a brain, best start usin’ it.”

I sighed. Okay conscience, I get it. You don’t need to have others remind me too. “What do you suggest?” I asked.

“Ya want ta get their attention, huh?” he asked as he trotted over to the window. I nodded. A smile crossed his mangled features as his horn flared into a blue glow. A small, round metal ball lifted free from his saddlebag and hovered near his mouth. He stared silently out the window, waiting for… something. “Right, when I move, you move. Clear?” Before I could ask him for clarification he bit a small stick on the metal ball, yanked it free and then tossed the whole thing out the window. Panicked shouts immediately erupted.

“Grenade! GRENADE!”

They were silenced by an explosion that left my ears ringing and the world a dull burbling. Motes of dust drifted from the ceiling. Jerry’s ears were pinned back against her head as she shook it, presumably dealing with the same problem I was. Sentinel clapped me on the shoulder. He was shouting something, but it was lost in the din. Then he galloped past me and out into the street where the raiders were. I hooked a leg around Jerry’s shoulders and guided her out the door.

We stepped out into the rain. And the blood. Torn bodies lay in the street, limbs missing or mangled into unrecognizable shreds. I was certain there was screaming, but thankfully I couldn’t hear it. Sentinel stood at the far end of the street, his rifle flashing in his hooves and steadied by his magic as he blasted down the street. I ushered Jerry across to him and he practically shoved us into the alley as the world came back to me in screams and gunfire.

“Move, move, move!” Sentinel shouted as he loosed a few more shots.

“To where?!” I shouted as Jerry and I galloped down the alley with Sentinel in tow.

“Anywhere! Just move!”

We spilled into the next street, and banked right to run away from Ministry Town. Rows of rusted wagons lined the street, many still containing their occupants. Further down the street a rotted door flew off its hinges as a raider burst out of a building. “HERE! OVER HERE!” he shouted. For a brief moment I wondered why he was calling out to us, then he bit down on his battle saddle’s trigger. Dual rifles coughed and spat bullets indiscriminately down the street.

“Cover! Cover!” Sentinel shouted. I practically tackled Jerry, sending us both down behind a rusting wagon. Jerry curled up, hooves over her head as bullets chewed into the wagon. Sentinel ran up to us, keeping his head low. “We gotta move! Fast!” he shouted over the gunfire.

“Suggestions?” I shouted back as something inside the wagon began to whine, growing in pitch with each passing second. Sentinel’s eyes widened.

“Move! NOW!” He shouted. We broke cover as a group, Sentinel firing blindly as we ran. The raider’s shots faltered as he ducked back into the building. We rushed down a narrow alley with a slope of rubble rising in the middle. Jerry scrabbled up it first, disappearing over the crest. I followed after, knocking several large chunks free as I clambered up, the whining wagon reaching a fever pitch before suddenly going quiet. “DOWN!” Sentinel said, throwing himself bodily on top of me.

The wagon exploded with a loud boom as wild magical energies ripped their way free of the wagon. A cascade of colorful magics tore the wagon apart in an expanding orb of enchantments gone rogue. The metal frame of the wagon twisted and rent even as it grew red hot and my pip-buck clicked out a staccato rhythm. Then the expanding orb contracted suddenly and burst apart with a second, louder explosion that shook the buildings and shattered any glass that remained in their windows. Shards of hot metal lanced in all directions, embedding themselves in the surrounding wagons and buildings. I stood up, forcing Sentinel off of me as I turned back to the street. The wagon was gone, and in its place was a charred, twisted hunk of metal that was rapidly cooling in the rain.

It dawned on me slowly, that the whining was still going. If anything it sounded-

“Run! Run now!” Sentinel said as he scrambled up the slope and disappeared over the top. I followed after him, opening my mouth to ask what was going on. Then the next car exploded. And the next. A daisy chain of magical explosions tore up the street. If the ponies in Ministry Town hadn’t heard the gunfire, they surely heard this. The expanding air hit me like a wall and threw me over the slope. I rolled down the debris and came to a stop in the middle of the next street. I coughed, struggling to breath, the wind having been knocked out of me.

“Ow…” I mumbled as I shakily got to my hooves. Sentinel’s olive drab form appeared beside me and helped steady me.

“Can’t believe they made them things,” he said as we galloped into the next alley and slid into cover at the corner. He waved me past as he waited to see if anypony followed. We were cutting a swathe through the ruined city. Through the chaos in our wake I could hear angry shouts from the raiders as they followed us. Wasn’t too hard, given the trail we were leaving.

Jerry stood in the middle of the next street, nervously dancing in place. She spotted us immediately, and hurriedly waved at us. “C’mon, c’mon! This way!” she called urgently, waving us on with a hoof. Behind her loomed a large, office building, distinctly different from the others around it in its height and opulence. It sat on a plot of land, giving it some distance between it and the buildings all around, adding to the contrast. A tall, wrought iron fence, twisted and worthless with age once separated it further, but was in such bad shape that it may as well not be there. Jerry galloped through a section of missing fence and in through a hole that had been blasted into the side of the building, disappearing from view into the second floor.

“Wait! NO!” Sentinel called as he came galloping up. “Son of a bitch!” he hissed through clenched teeth. He whipped around looking back at the alley, and then back at the building that Jerry had entered.

“What?” I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“That’s a ministry hub!” Sentinel said. It took me entirely too long to recall what that meant. Both Sentinel’s and the old stallion’s warnings were suddenly screaming in my head. My eyes widened and my stomach sank into my hooves.

“Jerry’s in there!” I said, panic beginning to build inside me.

“I know! I’ve got eyes!” Sentinel shouted at me.

“We have to go in and get her!” I said, tearing my gaze from the building to look at Sentinel.

“No! No fuckin’ way am I venturin’ in to a hub! Not for you! And not for some bird!” he said, jabbing his hoof into my chest. I felt my chest grow tight, fighting the urge to feed the ghoul my hoof. I settled for brushing his limb aside.

“Fine! You stay out here with them!” I said, jabbing a hoof back the way we’d come. The explosions had begun to settle, and now the voices of the raiders were becoming clearer and louder. It sounded like the entire raiding party was coming down on us.

Sentinel looked between the alley and the hub several time before loosing a terrifying growl. “FINE! But after this, we’re thru! I’m going back to Vi’s and you’re on your own!” He shoved me aside with surprising strength and galloped into the building with his rifle floating beside him. I followed after him, his words of warning still ringing in my head as I stepped into the darkened interior of the building.

The museum had looked like it had been ransacked. Broken display cases, vandalism, and rifled desks had not been an uncommon sight. But this place seemed more like it had been outright abandoned. Desk and filing cabinet drawers remained shut, terminals were intact and not smashed open, and all sorts of other things that leant to the eerie feeling that was settling in the pit of my stomach. A coffee mug still sat on the nearest desk, a thick patch of grey-green fuzz had sprouted from it and was in the process of creeping its way across the desktop while a trio of luminescent green mushrooms each vied to stand the tallest at its core.

Sentinel strode slowly past it all, his rifle whipping back and forth, as though he were expecting to get jumped at any moment. He moved in careful, calculated steps, leading with the barrel of his gun and dutifully checking each cubicle we passed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, “This place doesn’t look like its seen anypony in a century.” Sentinel looked back at me, shook his head and resumed his paranoid crawling pace through the building.

“If ya only knew, kid,” he muttered, but didn’t clarify. I pursed my lips and sighed. Clearly I had pissed off the stallion. I’d have to try and apologize after we found Jerry and before the army of raiders outside slaughtered us. I turned my attention to our surroundings again as we made our way slowly through the building. Nothing was disturbed, leaving us no clues that Jerry had even come this way. She was a scavenger by nature, but with all hell blowing loose outside, I doubt even she would take a moment to loot anything.

“What is this place?” I asked Sentinel, hoping to break the tenuous silence.

“Image Hub,” he said flatly. He glanced over his shoulder at me and I took the opportunity to give him my best ‘I’m just a dumb slave’ look. He rolled his eyes dramatically and continued forward. “Right, keep forgettin’. Though I don’t know how best ta fill ya in on it. It’s a lot.”

“Basics then. Like I’m a foal,” I said. Sentinel nodded at that.

“Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria,”

I raised my hooves, waving him silent. “Wait wait wait, stop. Let’s go with colt instead of foal,” I said.

Sentinel shrugged. “Story starts the same either way. Now ya mind letting me continue?” I nodded and Sentinel let out a sigh. “Equestria wasn’t always like this. When I was little, you could still see ‘ow great she was. Ponies was still friendly, and the whole world seemed... safe.” Sentinel stopped and turned to face me, his rifle lowering. “It was like… like a storm on the ‘orizon. Everypony could see it building, but it was so far off that nopony paid it any mind ‘til it was right on top o’ us. We’d just started industrializing on a massive scale. For that, we needed coal. We had some, but the Zebras? They had gobs of it. We traded fine for a bit. Then somepony got greedy. Relations strained. A few brush fire wars broke out. And then… Littlehorn.”

Sentinel stared through me, losing himself in an unpleasant memory. “They… they was only foals.” He shook his head and blinked at me a moment. “Anyway… war broke out. A real war. And things went from bad to absolute fuckin’ shit. Celestia stepped down, gave the throne to Luna. I was older then. I enlisted before they could draft me.” Sentinel turned his back to me and we started moving through the office at a slightly faster pace. The memories were coming from Sentinel freely, as though a dam had broken and they were flowing through him unabated. “Luna was a fine ruler, but she was used to being a piece of the whole. So… she created the ministries to help her manage things. Image, was in charge of making things look good. They made the propaganda, and controlled the flow of information. The things we knew, were the things Image let us know.”

We came to a stop at the end of a row of cubicles. Through a broken window I could see five more buildings, each one a near identical copy of this one. A large medallion hung over each entrance, emblazoned with their Ministry’s logo. A once lovely courtyard connected them, the remnants of a fountain at its center. Strange shapes were strewn about the landscape and it took me entirely too long to realize I was looking at bodies. Some were nothing but bones, bleached to a near gleaming white, others still coated in a thin layer of desiccated flesh and the trappings of scavengers. As I surveyed the scene, a large, metal beast rolled into view on a trio of limbs, easily twice my height. A red colored spotlight flashed across the field of corpses as it moved through. It crunched over a rotting corpse and, just as quickly as it had appeared, disappeared from view once more. Now I understood what Sentinel and the old stallion had meant about this place being dangerous. “When I was still a fresh recruit, I thought the ministries would end the war…” Sentinel said solemnly. “I guess, in a way, they did…” Tearing his gaze from the window, Sentinel continued down the hallway. “C’mon, let’s find your marefriend and get out of here while we still can.”

The next few minutes passed in terse silence. I got the distinct impression that I’d reopened some painful wounds for Sentinel without really meaning to. I kept quiet too, letting him deal with things in his own way. Living through the end of the world entitled him to his share of problems, and it was incredibly unlikely that I would have anything to say on the matter that might help. Instead, I occupied my time by worrying about Jerry. We’d seen no sign of her since we’d entered the building. Which was especially worrisome. I got flashes of the ferals in the museum, and my imagination was obliging enough to fill in the gruesome details. I shook the thoughts from my head and took a deep, calming breath.

Relax. She’s fine. She’s just… alone… somewhere… in here… with whatever else might be lurking in- Okay that’s not helping!

I turned my attention back to my surroundings to distract myself. There was an odd elegance to the building. Little details like the mirrored arrangement of each cubicle or the detailed gold filigree that snaked up each support column. I lagged behind Sentinel and carefully brushed a hoof along the glittering latticework.

“Somepony put a lot of work into making this place… pretty,” I mumbled, quickening my pace to catch up with Sentinel. He grunted in reply, which was honestly more of a response than I’d been expecting. Silence fell over us again and, with a sigh, I dropped back several paces.

Where the hell could she be? There’d been no sign of her since I saw her disappear into the building, and it’s not like she could’ve gotten all that far before we came in after her. Something was definitely not right about the whole thing.

“What kind of protection would a place like this have?” I asked as I came to a complete stop. Sentinel slowed, but didn’t stop as he glanced back over his shoulder at me.

“Varies,” he muttered, “Armed guards were a given, but they’d ‘ave other things. Protect-a-ponies, automated turrets… that big fuckin’ sentry bot we saw outside…”

“Anything that doesn’t kill a pony?” I asked.

Sentinel shrugged and opened his mouth to answer, but stopped. He stared past me and suddenly, I was acutely aware of something behind me. I turned slowly, expecting to see… well… something horrifying standing in front me. But there was nothing standing there. Instead, a silver orb about the size of a head floated in the air. It sported a single gleaming blue lens that was focused on me.

“Identification please,” it said softly in a mare’s voice.

“Easy kid,” Sentinel said slowly. “No. Sudden. Moves.”

“What is it?” I asked out the side of my mouth.

“Identification please,” the drone repeated in the same pleasant tone.

“Scanner,” Sentinel said. “Don’t move.”

“Its. Not. Leaving,” I hissed.

“Final warning. Identification please,” the drone said, its voice suddenly deep and angry as the lens turned a bright red.

“Um… I left it at home?” I said, offering the drone a smile. The orb hovered closer, almost bumping in to my nose.

“Please follow the drone to security. Any deviation from this order will result in a full security lockdown,” it growled. I nodded slowly as the drone turned around. Then I reared back and brought both hooves down on top of it, driving it into the floor. It let out an electronic squeal as it tried to raise itself off the floor, magical energy sparking out of a crack I’d put in its polished exterior. I reared back and slammed it back down again. The shrieking instantly cut out and the light faded from the lens. I turned back to Sentinel to see him with his hoof pressed firmly to his temple.

“...Goddess damn it, kid… ya remember what I said about ‘alf-cocked?” Sentinel muttered. As I opened my mouth to speak, red emergency lighting ignited along the ceiling and an alarm began to blare. Steel shutters descended over the windows, cutting us off from the view outside and casting the building into a hellish red darkness. Then twin domes sprouted from the ceiling and opened, revealing the vented barrels of machine guns. “RUN!” Sentinel shouted as the guns opened up. Bullets ripped into the floor, puffs of pulverized carpet tracing a heart stopping path towards me. I twisted on the spot and scrambled for purchase before scurrying after Sentinel.

We tore through the building at full speed and zero concern. Our attention now solely on not being punched full of holes. New turrets emerged ahead of us, hell-bent on ending our intrusion. As we rounded the next corner, a pair of turrets had already descended from the ceiling and were waiting for us. Sentinel, much faster on the uptake than I was, dove into cover as the turrets opened up. My eyes widened and I rolled behind the closest thing I could find, an old wooden desk. Automatic gunfire chewed into my cover, blasting wood chips and splinters out of it. Twin heavy guns roared as they ripped the thing apart inch by inch until I felt the first bullet dig into my armor. Time to move again.

I shouted an inarticulate growl as I peeled away from the desk and sprinted at a marble pillar that supported the ceiling. The bullets followed me, ripping up moldy carpet and chipping the floor underneath in my wake. I dropped to slide across the floor and scrambled into cover behind the pillar as the bullets began to tear into it. These things had to run out of ammo eventually, right?

“This is your fault!” Sentinel shouted from across the room, hidden behind a pillar of his own. “This is all your fucking fault!” He flinched as a piece of his cover splintered a little too close to his face.

“How do you figure?!” I shouted back. Sentinel fixed me with a flat ‘are you serious?’ look and I felt my ears droop. “Alright! I’m sorry!” I shouted.

“Sorry?” Sentinel shouted back. “You’re bloody sorry?”

“Um… yes?” I replied. Sentinel put his hooves to his head and growled again.

“Oh, it’s no problem t’all then! Because you’re fuckin’ sorry! Sorry makes everything better!” I snapped my mouth shut. I’d seen enough pissed off ponies to know when it was better to shut up and leave well enough alone. “Sorry we dragged you out of your cozy room in Rust Rail, Sentinel!” he continued, gesturing with his hooves as much as his cover would allow. “Sorry we can’t give you a decent, goddess-damned destination, Sentinel!” His rifle raised, surrounded in his blue magic. “Sorry we won’t let you bump off the poor widdle raider, Sentinel!”

He twisted, his rifle aiming at me for the longest moment of my life. I felt my heart stall in my chest as I stared down the barrel. Then he continued in the maneuver around his cover. He and his gun roared with a fury that drowned out the turrets as he loosed a stream of bullets. The turret housing warped and rent as he blasted the first apart and then turned his attention to the next, which clattered to the floor much like its partner. Silence came crashing down upon us. Sentinel stood between our two pillars, his machine gun raised. He was breathing hard and staring up at where the two turrets had been. Slowly, I unfolded and got to my hooves.

“Sentinel?” I called carefully. The soldier took a deep breath, his weapon lowering and he turned to face me.

“That was cathartic,” he muttered as he ejected his empty magazine. He replaced it with one from his pack and tucked the empty into his saddlebag as the weapon replaced itself on his back. “Alright, let’s take a moment and try’n figure this out,” he said, taking a seat. “The bird didn’t enter all that long before us, and we didn’t see ‘er anywhere on this floor,”

“Jerry,” I corrected.

Sentinel waved me off with a hoof. “Whatever.” He tapped his hoof on the floor for a moment before looking up at me. “What if that little drone ‘ad found ‘er?”

“What? The little floaty ball thing?” I asked. When Sentinel nodded, I paused. “Well, it was polite at first. I guess… she’d follow it like it wanted.”

“Then she’s probably in the security office,” Sentinel muttered. “That’ll be somewhere on the first floor I’d wager. And likely behind a arseload more turrets.”

I glanced around our darkened, red-tinted surroundings. “How do we get there from here?”

After a long moment, Sentinel sighed. “I’m gonna wind up shot before the day is over…” he muttered.

“Probably,” I muttered. “Look… I’m sorry things are so… difficult with us.” I said, choosing my words carefully. “But… we’ve been slaves most of our lives. We’re not used to… to asking for things. Let alone getting them. These last few days have been… shockingly different…”

“Right… I get that. I’m not blamin’ ya fer that. I jus’ want ya to think more an’ act less, ya?” He grunted. He didn’t sound any less pissed off though. I thought it would be best to let him lead and follow quietly behind. Like… like a good little slave. Ugh, that thought left a bad taste in my mouth.

Sentinel moved ahead of me with a surreal grace that bordered on unnatural. He slipped shadow to shadow and cover to cover. Each burst of movement he made was followed by a quick series of beeps at the turrets attempted to lock on, but stopped when he disappeared from their sight again. He stopped and looked back at me, gesturing with a hoof for me to follow. My brows rows and I pointed a hoof at my chest.

“You’re kidding… right?” I called to him.

Sentinel sighed in exasperation and peered quickly around cover. “Fine, wait there,” he said before darting around the corner and eliciting another startled beep from a turret.

“I hate this...” I muttered to myself after several minutes. I sat down and sighed, willing myself to calm down. I was on edge. The museum. The stable. Ministry Town. The raiders. And now this? It was all so very different from everything I had lived before this. And so much in such a short time. Sure, The Dig hadn’t been any better. But it was a horror I was accustomed to, regrettably, something I had learned to accept as normal. All this was new and terrifyingly different. I glanced around me again, feeling as though something was there, lurking just in the shadows. I didn’t think it was possible, but this place actually got worse when you were alone. I looked around, carefully peeking around cover until the angry alarm from the turret scared me back into safety. As much as I liked my new armor, I wasn’t about to see how it stood up to a hail of bullets. So I was stuck here until Sentinel returned.

Awesome.

I slumped down a little further and sighed. Great. All I could see ahead of me was row after row of empty desks and chairs, forming an aisle that ended in an open set of doors. One side mirrored the other, right down to the placement of the items on the desk. It was the kind of symmetry that bordered on being a problem. I imagined some shadowy pony carefully using a ruler to adjust everything to be absolutely perfect. I sat up slowly, realizing I wasn’t imagining the entire thing. There, at the far end of the room, was the shadowy shape of a pony.

“Jerry?” I called. The figure looked at me and then carefully stepped through the doors at the far end. “Jerry!” I got to my hooves and stepped forward, stopping myself just before breaking cover. The turrets were still there, just waiting for me to stick my neck out.

It had to be at least sixty feet to the doors. And Goddesses only knew what was waiting for me just past them. It couldn’t have been Jerry. Jerry would’ve responded. But…

Dammit.

I dashed forward, keeping my head low. The turrets chirped and then roared as they shot at me. I galloped in a straight line towards the door, hoping that my armor would make up for my lack of speed. The first bullet bit into my armor before I’d made it ten feet, followed immediately by several friends. It felt remarkably like Bruiser slamming his hooves into my back once more. I was halfway there when I felt hot pain in the back of my right hind leg. I stumbled, but somehow managed to remain on my hooves.

Just a little further. I grit my teeth and powered through the pain. The door was nearly within reach. I bent my legs and threw myself forward the final few feet. I shouldered the door open and tumbled end over end until I landed painfully upside down against the far wall. I was breathing hard, and as I exhaled, I began to laugh.

“Huh, ha, ha HAH!” I breathed as I tumbled onto my side and pointed back the way I’d come, mocking the turrets. I glanced at my leg, taking note of the hole punched cleanly through the meat as I fished a healing potion from my saddlebag and choked it down. Muscle and flesh knit itself back together as it closed. “That was easily the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” I muttered as I dropped the empty potion bottle. Sentinel was right, I needed to think things through a little more before acting. I glanced back through the door. I must’ve been out of range of the turrets, because they were quietly tracking back and forth, searching for a target. I took in the area I was now in, searching for any sign of the figure I’d seen.

I’d tumbled past a security checkpoint of some kind. The hallway was half dominated by a guard post, with what looked like an empty door frame on one side. A soft, if a bit moldy, red carpet split around the station, through the door frame and down the entire length of the hallway towards a set of wooden doors decorated with a seal depicting a feminine eye over an open book. The doors were also open just a bit, the seal split down the middle. I reared back, planting my forehooves onto the guard station and peered over the top of it. Nothing but a trio of empty chairs and a faded copy of Guns and Bullets magazine. I looked at it for a second and then shrugged. I didn’t care for guns anyway. I stepped around the desk, and up to the doors.

I reached out with a hoof and pushed. It opened smoothly and without a sound, stopping itself before hitting the wall. The entire office was breathtaking. Gleaming white marble, plush red carpeting and a chandelier that looked to be made of real gemstones. A large, dark wood desk sat in front of an even larger, arched window that would’ve offered a great view if the shutters weren’t down. A sleek, white and chrome terminal rested on the desk, awaiting an owner that would never return. Bookshelves packed with books of all sizes and colors lined each wall. But there was nopony here either.

“Great, now I’m seeing things,” I muttered as I trotted into the room. The office was a level of opulent that the rest of the building could only aspire to, and to me the whole room screamed of… waste. Why would anypony need so much? I moved around the edge of the desk and pushed the chair aside. Nopony under the desk either. There was nopony here. “I must be losing my mind.”

I dropped down into the plush desk chair with a sigh. At least waiting here was better than being huddled behind a column, hoping I didn’t get shot… even if it took getting shot to get here. I glanced at the terminal. It didn’t look too dissimilar from the one Dig Deep had plugged into not long ago. In fact, there was a socket on the front of it like he’d plugged into. I glanced at my pip-buck. It couldn’t be all that difficult, right? It took a moment, but I located a similarly shaped protrusion. I bit down on it with my teeth and pulled free a length of cord. With some finangling I managed to plug it in.

Both devices whirred and clicked as the old machines worked. I glanced at the screen of my pip-buck, spying green text as it scrolled by. After a moment the screen filled with what amounted to the scrawlings of a foal with the occasional word thrown in here and there. The words ‘password required’ and four squares were at the top. I didn’t exactly see what Dig Deep had done to get into the other terminal, I just remembered that he had pressed buttons and fiddled with the knobs on the pip-buck, so, I followed suit. A small indicator on the screen moved as I fiddled with the dial. I dared to press the button and the terminal beeped angrily. On the right of the screen a new line of text had appeared.

>Invalid Entry.

I stared at the screen a moment and then scrolled over further, this time over the word ‘Towel’ and pressed the button again.

>Towel
>Entry denied
>4/5 Correct.

“Four of five correct? Four of five what?” I muttered as I scrolled to the next word. Tower.

>Tower
>Exact Match!
>Please wait while system is accessed.

I did it! I’m not sure exactly how I did it, but somehow I’d got into the terminal. The screen flickered and changed as new text filled it.

>Log Entries
>Unlock Safe
>Lift Security Lockdown

My eyes immediately locked onto the last selection. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? I scrolled to and selected it.

>Lifting Security Lockdown…

There was a loud boom as something mechanical or electrical switched. Instantly the red lights died and the ceiling lights began to flicker and glow as the shutter lifted from the window. I blinked several times at the sudden brightness. “Huh, guess it is that simple,” I muttered as I scrolled up to the next option and selected it. There as a loud mechanical click and something metal banged into my hoof, startling me. I scooted back in the chair and peered under the desk. A small safe had been opened. Inside were stacks of old gold coins, two strange glass balls, and a cassette like the ones I’d found in the stable. I tucked the balls and the cassette into my bag and looked at the coins, debating if they would be worth carrying. I shrugged and scooped the coins into my saddlebags with a satisfying jingling.

My looting complete, I turned back to the terminal and selected the only remaining option. The log entries opened and I selected the top entry of the two that weren’t labeled ‘corrupted’.

I had to get official at the museum today. The doctor, some overly excited little mare, told me that we had no right to censor important historical finds. I put on my deepest, most serious voice and set them straight. I told them that according to wartime law, before any information can be made available to the public it must first be processed by Image to deem it safe for public consumption and then had my ponies collect her work. I must admit watching her face fall was delightful. I’m such a bad mare. I love the position of power I hold.
I’ll look over her research tomorrow. I doubt it will be anything terribly exciting, but not every part of my job can be fun.

This one’s a real piece of work. I didn’t have any trouble imagining her fitting in with the slavers at all. I moved on to the next entry dated several days later.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m not much of a history buff. Pretty sure I failed that class in college, actually...
But this mare’s research is terribly fascinating.
A lot of theories that these fragments of pottery and moldy fabric are the remnants of some pre-historic pony-like civilization. And they’re not talking cave-ponies either. I’ve forwarded a copy of this information to Mistress Rarity. I need her input on this. This is well above my pay grade. The artifacts will be collected and sent with the paperwork. I don’t want to leave anything to chance.

“Where the ‘ell did you get to now?” Sentinel’s gruff voice bellowed from down the hall.

“In here! Big room at the end of the hall!” I called back. A moment later Sentinel trotted in with Jerry in tow.

“The ‘ell you doing in ‘ere?” he asked as he stepped up to the desk. I unplugged my pip-buck from the terminal and leaned forward onto the desk, offering him a smug smile.

“Just lifting the security lockdown,” I said. Sentinel’s brow furrowed and he raised a hoof to rub it over his face as he sighed loudly. I glanced around him and smiled at Jerry. “Where’d you get off to?”

Jerry looked down, sheepishly tracing circles into the carpet. “A little floating ball came up to me and asked me to follow it. So... I did. I was in the process of getting a security badge when the whole place went into lockdown for some reason.”

Now it was Sentinel’s turn to smile smugly. “I wonder ‘ow that ‘appened.”

I cleared my throat and shrugged as I slipped out of the chair. “No idea. Hey! Let’s get out of here! With the lockdown lifted and Jerry found, we can get moving again.” I suggested. Sentinel shook his head and trotted over to the window.

“We can’t leave yet, this place is… is a gold mine. It’s NEVER been scavenged.” Jerry said. “Plus, I DID go through all the trouble of getting security badges…”

“Jerry, did you look outside?” I asked. At the shake of her head I guided her to the window and gestured at the multitudes of desiccated and destroyed husks that had once been ponies just like us. “We need to leave before something else hap-”

“YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!” came a sudden loud, yet muffled screaming.

I shut my eyes tight. “Sorry, that was my fault. I should’ve kept my big mouth shut,” I muttered.

“No,” Sentinel said, tapping on the window, “This one is definitely my fault.”

I followed his gaze to the small army of raiders that stood in the street, just beyond the perimeter fence. Dozens of mares and stallions in shoddy barding and brandishing all sorts of weapons. At its heart was a small clearing with two ponies supporting a third. I immediately recognized the dark green stallion from Ministry Town. The one Sentinel had killed. Or so I’d assumed. A strip of moldy cloth had been tied around his face, and I could see two ruddy stains where his eyes would be.

“I thought you killed him,” Jerry said.

Sentinel shrugged. “Yeah, well, you two seemed awfully miffed at the thought. So I showed our friend ‘ow much it ‘urts havin’ your bleedin’ eyes cut out.”

The raid leader shoved the two ponies flanking him aside, and staggered forward a step. “You rotting fuck! I’m going flay you alive for this!” he screamed.

Sentinel spun his rifle around and smashed the butt into the glass, breaking out a small hole. “Good luck with that, mate! I’m already dead!” he shouted back. Judging by the way a few of the raiders looked away, I’m guessing there was a spattering of laughter through the crowd. This made the raid leader seethe even more. He reached out blindly, grabbing at air until his hoof found somepony and pulled them closer.

“Get in there! Bring me the rotter!” he screamed into the stallion’s ear.

“Get down!” Sentinel shouted as he hooked his forelegs around mine and Jerry’s necks and pulled us to the floor just as dozens of weapons opened fire. Bullets and shrapnel blasted apart the window, showering us with glass and debris.

“I changed my mind! Scavenge later! Survive now!” Jerry said as she covered her head with both hooves.

“Take note kiddies, this is what grantin’ mercy ta evil gets ya!” Sentinel said as he crawled to the office door.

“Is now REALLY the time for ‘I told you so’s’?” I asked.

“May not get another, so yes!” Sentinel said as he scrambled to his hooves. Once clear of the window, Jerry and I followed suit, the three of us galloping down the hallway back the way we came. Sentinel and Jerry split up, darting around either side of the small security checkpoint. Feeling a bit daring, I decided to go over it. I cleared the first desk, but tumbled into the security checkpoint, knocking over the pair of chairs that were there. I scrambled to my hooves and climbed over the next counter, catching up to Jerry and Sentinel.

“What happens when we get outside?” I asked.

“We run AWAY from the danger this time,” Sentinel shouted.

“Is… is that even possible in the wasteland?” Jerry chimed in.

“‘Ey! Don’t muddle this moment with your logic!” Sentinel snapped back.

“How about explaining how we avoid the army of raiders and all their guns when we step outside?” I called from the rear of the pack.

“Remember that big bastard we saw rollin’ around outside?” Sentinel shouted over his shoulder.

“Yeah? What about it?” I called back.

“Just be ‘appy we ain’t the ones shootin’ at a Ministry building!”

The small arms fire of the raiders were suddenly drowned out by the dull crump of an explosion that made the grenade we’d thrown earlier sound like a firecracker. Shouts and the sound of sporadic gunfire washed over us as the armored behemoth had apparently made them its target.

“Quickly! Out the front while its distracted!” Sentinel shouted as he disappeared down a stairwell. Without another word, Jerry and I followed.

Before too long we’d reached the edge of the development around Ministry Town and galloped out into the blasted landscape. Behind us we could still hear the sounds of conflict as the raiders and the robot fought. It was several minutes before Sentinel allowed us to slow to a walk and collect our breaths. He muttered to himself for the next twenty minutes before finally turning to us and glaring at us with his dead eyes.

“Right! Listen you two! We need to ‘ave a serious talk. You PAID me to do a job. That job is to keep you two rooks out of trouble. Then ya go and dive ‘ead first INTO trouble. So ‘ere’s how things are going to go from now on. Do. As. I. Say. Sound simple enough?” He suddenly jabbed a hoof at me, startling me in the process. “Don’t go runnin’ into fights!” His hoof shifted to Jerry, who jumped as well. “An’ don’t go runnin’ into ruins!”

“But that’s what we used to do,” Jerry said defensively. “I’ve been sent into lots of ruins.”

“Ruins are stupid dangerous, love,” Sentinel said, his voice suddenly softening. “Why’dya think they sent slaves in first? There’s always more ponies to be caught and controlled. Only so many guns an’ bullets to go ‘round. Better to let a slave go in first and get ripped open by whatever beastie made the ruins their ‘ome, than risk a trained slaver and his gear.”

Jerry’s ears fell at the world shattering knowledge imparted to her and her eyes drifted to the mud beneath her hooves. “I… I guess I never thought of it that way. I always just ran to Bruiser if something happened…”

“Look,” Sentinel said, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I’m not aiming to make you feel bad. I’m just trying to do what you ‘ired me for. Despite ‘ow I look, I do know what I’m doing. Wouldn’t ‘ave survived this long if I didn’t.”

“I’ll listen to you,” I said, drawing his attention. “But I’m still going to do what I can to help ponies.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Sentinel asked.

I nodded. “No, I heard you. But you don’t understand. I have to try to help. I can’t just walk away and let somepony suffer...” Bruiser’s ruined head briefly popped into the forefront of my memory. “No matter what they have done to deserve it.”

“That’s an admirable quality, kid. Really is. But the world don’t work that way no more.” Sentinel turned his back and started walking again.

“How can you say that?” I called after him.

“Because I watched that world burn. Now c’mon, it’s a long hike to the next settlement,” Sentinel shouted without so much as looking back. I glanced at Jerry, my ears drooping to lay flat against my head. She shrugged wordlessly, and followed after Sentinel, her head still hung low. I glanced back the way we’d come, spying the ruins concealing Ministry Town in the distance.

“Someone has to try…” I muttered, as I turned to follow them.

Footnote: Halfway to next level!

Chapter 8 - Waypoint

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“Some folks’ll tell ya you live day to day in this wasteland of ours. I say it’s minute to minute. That silver lining on that cloud? That’s the start of a radstorm. Stops your travels for a day or two while you find shelter, puts you behind schedule. But the building you duck into for shelter… well, it’s got a lot o’ salvage. Better hope it’s enough to pay for the Rad-Away…” - Wastelander visiting Deepwater

We spent the rest of the day trudging through mud and the drizzling rain, and as the light began to fade the three of us were soaked through and miserable. All around us was open wasteland, and with an angry raider band somewhere in our wake, none of us were too keen on stopping just yet. But as the hours wore on, Jerry and I began to slow as exhaustion took hold.

“Sentinel, we need to stop,” I panted as I did just that, dropping to my rump in the mud for a quick breather. Jerry moved up next to me and collapsed against me, equally spent. “We can’t keep going like this.”

Sentinel stopped and glanced over his shoulder at us. After a long pause, he sighed and nodded. ‘Yeah, alright. There’s an old chargin’ station just a bit further, can ya make it there?”

“C’mon Jerry, I’ll carry you,” I said and lowered myself to the mud, too tired to ask what a charging station was. Jerry muttered something that sounded like an argument but obligingly climbed onto my back. I stood up and slogged after Sentinel as Jerry drifted into exhausted slumber.

Turns out that ‘just a bit further’ meant something more like a mile down the road, but we saw it well before then. A faint light was flickering beneath the large overhang that extended from the building, easily drawing our attention. Sentinel stopped, reaching out a foreleg to stop me as well.

“‘Ang on,” he said quietly. “Looks like someone else set up camp there.” He lowered himself to the ground and reached back for his rifle with a leg instead of with his magic. I watched groggily, unsure of why he was doing that. Cradling it between his forelegs he took the bit into his mouth and looked through the scope on top. He was quiet and still for some time before he lifted his head. “I only see one. And they don’t look ‘ostile,” he said as he used his magic to lift his rifle as he got to his hooves. A faint blue light washed over the two of us, picking us out easily in the darkened landscape. No wonder he was using his hooves, magic made us stick out like sore hooves. The closer we got to the building, the more I could make out in the flickering light of what appeared to be a fire barrel. Metal fixtures and snaking cables hung from the overhang, swaying in the breeze. The building itself was a ruin. The paint had worn away from weather and time, leaving the bare metal to rust. A single figure was moving around inside, casually tossing things out the empty windows and out into the covered area. When we were a few feet away, Sentinel stopped me with a hoof.

“Wait ‘ere,” he ordered, taking a second to give me a stern look. He then trotted forward. “Evenin’ traveler!” he called loudly. Jerry stirred on my back at Sentinel’s shout, lifting her head from my shoulder.

“Huh? Wuzzat?” she mumbled as she slid off my back and stood unsteadily on her hooves.

“Company. I think Sentinel is finding out if its good or bad,” I said as Jerry rubbed at her eyes. The figure in the charging station went still. Teal magic flared, bathing the interior and the figure in light and a strange looking rifle raised slowly. It sort of looked like a pony and wearing some kind barding that covered it from head to toe, even obscuring the face.

“I haven’t got any caps! So make like a parasprite and buzz off!” the pony yelled. The voice was gravelly and oddly muffled, but definitely feminine. Sentinel slowed to a stop, lifting the barrel of his rifle to point up and away.

“Easy now,” he called. “Not looking for trouble. We’re just lookin’ for some shelter for the night.”

“We?” she called back as she moved behind something in the building. A counter maybe? “How many of you?”

“Just three.”

There was a moment of tense silence before the mare spoke again. “You’re wearing the uniform! Are you-”

“Retired,” Sentinel answered quickly as he slipped his rifle back into its place on his back.

“Alright… But no funny business.” Mollified slightly, the pony shifted around the interior of the charging station and carefully stepped out into the flickering firelight. She was clad head to tail in some kind of barding that looked almost like plastic. Haphazard armored plates had been strapped over it, offering some protection. She was easily as tall as me, taller if I counted the spire of her horn that protruded from a mask that reminded me of Fricassee. Sentinel waved us over and Jerry and I approached cautiously.

“Thank you for the hospitality,” Sentinel said as he sat himself down near the fire. “My names Sentinel. These two are Free and Jerry,” he said, indicating each of us in turn. Jerry waved politely but was more interested in curling up near the warmth of the fire. She was asleep again in moments.

“Charming Dawn,” the mare said through her breather. “Formerly of the Ministry of Peace.” She lowered her weapon, some kind of strange elongated box, and moved closer to the fire. She stared at Sentinel for some long moments before setting her weapon down. A tattered and messy collection of papers bound only by hope in a cracked leather book emerged from her saddlebags along with a pencil. The book flipped open and she began to scrawl in looping curls.

“What’re you doin’ out here alone?” I asked.

Her head briefly turned towards me, her eyes hidden behind reflective goggles attached to her breather. “Research,” she said flatly, as if that answer should suffice.

“Um… what are you researching?” I prodded, trying to urge her to continue.

“The effects of magical radiation and taint on the native and non-native life of Equestria and beyond,” she muttered, not taking her eyes off Sentinel. “Tell me,” she said, addressing him for the first time since she’d started writing, “Did you become a ghoul here in the Badlands?”

I glanced at Sentinel, rather interested in knowing more about our guide as well. He shrugged. “Can’t really say. Was tryin’ to make my way north when I noticed it ‘appening,” he said. He looked over his shoulder as his horned flared and his rifle slid forward engulfed in magic. The mare and I tensed but he quickly unloaded it and set the magazine aside as he started to take apart the weapon. “I wasn’t worried about myself at the time.”

Seemingly content, the mare nodded and scribbled a few notes before turning back to me. “Hmm, you don’t appear to be mutated or tainted in any noticeable fashion. I don’t think you will help advance my research that much.” Her book snapped shut and disappeared into her bags once more as she returned her focus to Sentinel. She began to ask him more questions, but her voice was muffled to my ears. The warmth of the fire was so nice after marching through the wastes in the rain all day, and my eyelids were suddenly so heavy. I yawned and lowered myself down next to Jerry.

Just a few hours rest and I’d be good to go.

I was dreaming. I know I was dreaming because I’d just managed to successfully tell Jerry how I’d felt all these long years. I sat in front of her, eagerly awaiting her response when I grunted uncomfortably, feeling my leg being tugged out of position. I pulled half-heartedly, my eyes fighting to open as I struggled to maintain the delusion that I was still asleep. Each time I tried to pull my leg back, something tugged it back to where it was. After a couple of attempts, a raspy voice got after me.

“Stop struggling, this will only take a moment.”

I blinked my eyes, Charming’s masked face swimming into focus. She’d tugged my foreleg out from under me and was busily examining my pipbuck.

“What’re you-” I muttered groggily.

“Shh, I’m examining your personal information processor. Such poor device management. Outdated software. Clogged ports. Filthy screen. Half of the systems aren’t even working properly. It’s like you have no idea what you’re doing with a pipbuck.”

I sat up, doing my best not to disrupt her work as she floated a small set of tools from her saddlebags. I glanced over at Sentinel who, during the night had finished cleaning and reassembling his rifle and was now busily examining Charming’s... weapon? He was looking along the top of the strange, oblong box with an assortment of wires and labels I couldn’t even begin to identify. Jerry stood several feet away, practicing drawing her pistol out of its holster and putting it back. A sudden twist of my foreleg returned my attention to the strange mare working on my pipbuck. “So… um… know a lot about pipbucks?” I asked awkwardly.

She nodded as she worked a small tool into the nooks and crannies of the devices and scrapped gunk out. “Ghouls develop all sorts of hobbies. Helps keep the monster at bay,” she muttered, tapping a hoof to the side of her head.

“Oh, you’re a ghoul?” She nodded again. “Is… that why you wear the strange suit?” Sentinel sighed loudly, and when I glanced over at him he was shaking his head.

“Partly,” she muttered. “I was exposed to the necromantic agent dispersed at Canterlot. Its magical nature is such that it can meld materials together, both organic and inorganic, with but a slight exposure. Simply put, there is no longer a distinction between my clothing and my epidermal layer,” she said. I gave her a blank stare, which she didn’t seem to notice as she resumed her work. Sentinel, however, spoke up without ever looking away from the weapon he was examining.

“Pink Cloud melted her suit and skin together,” he replied flatly.

“Oh! Oh… I’m sorry,” I said.

“What for? Did you release the necromantic agent?” she asked.

“Well… no, but-”

“Then you are not at fault and as such do not need to apologize.”

I fell quiet for a few minutes as she tinkered with my pipbuck. Before too long though, the silence was getting to me and I needed to break it. “So… you mentioned studying something about... something?” I said, hoping to start a discussion.

“The effects of magical radiation and taint on the native and non-native life of Equestria and beyond, yes. I’m hoping to produce a bestiary for this new world we live in to help my fellow ponies survive,” she said, not looking away from her work.

“I see…” I muttered, “We might be heading towards Deepwater,” I said, sending a look Sentinel’s way. “Anything we should know?”

Charming’s head lifted and I swear I could see an excited gleam in her eyes behind her goggles, tinted with a bit of madness. Jerry, having given up on her practice, trotted over and sat down next to Sentinel, seemingly interested in the topic as well. “Typically, you have the usual problems; radroaches, bloatsprites, and feral ghouls. As you get closer to the Hayseed Swamp you start to encounter a more diverse spectrum of mutated life. Radigators are not uncommon. Neither are Bloodbugs. But you need to be extra wary of Reaper Worms.”

“Locals call it the ‘Ellscape Swamp now,” Sentinel chimed in. Charming glanced at him and then back at her pipbuck.

“Oh, I see. I’ll have to update my notes,” she muttered.

“Um, all of those things sound truly awful, but why do we need to be wary of the worms specifically?” Jerry asked.

“I’m glad you asked,” Charming said as her horn flashed. A jar emerged from her bags, shrouded in teal magic even as she continued to work on my pipbuck. Inside was a small stump about the size of my hoof, the end of which sprouted five antennae, floating in a pale green liquid. It didn’t look very worm-like to me. She floated it closer and dropped it in Jerry’s hooves, who lifted it and examined it carefully with a disgusted look on her face.

“It doesn’t look like much,” she muttered.

“That’s only the head of an adult specimen, and all that I was safely able to retrieve. They average about five feet in length, but I speculate that, if left to their own devices, they can get much bigger.” With Jerry safely holding the jar, the magic field surrounded the head inside, moving it about as Charming continued. “It uses these antennae to sense prey which, as far as Reaper Worms are concerned, is anything that moves. When prey is near it opens its jaws and attacks, injecting a powerful toxin, and burrowing into the prey’s flesh.”

I leaned closer to Jerry, examining the worm’s head. The five antennae were easy to spot, but these jaws she spoke of were not. “I don’t see the jaws,” I said, voicing my confusion. The magic surrounding the head receding, shrinking to the area between all the antennae. Two long, serrated digits peeled open, revealing the creature’s throat. At the end of the digits were two black stingers, not too different from a bloatsprite’s. I swallowed and leaned back from the jar.

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be going swimming… ever again,” I muttered.

“You’ve never been swimming,” Jerry said, peeling her gaze from the gruesome jar and giving me a quizzical look.

“I have to.”

“When?”

“That time Lash shoved me into a flooded tunnel to place the pump in the deepest part of the water,” I said, matter-of-factly. “My options were: maybe drown or definitely get whipped. So I took a dip.”

“I don’t believe it,” Jerry said as the jar lifted from her hooves and deposited itself back in Charming’s bag. “Where was I?”

“I think you were out doing what you do best,” I said with a shrug.

“I see,” Charming said, interrupting our discussion and drawing our attention back to her. “You’re from that slaver operation to the west.” Jerry and I exchanged looks but said nothing. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sentinel tense as if expecting things to take a turn. “I’m dreadfully sorry. It pains me to see the Equestria I love rot so. Be careful in your travels, do your best to keep that information secret. There are many that would see you as nothing more than caps to be made, even without knowing that you are hunted.”

The tension began to lift, and collective breaths were released. “Thank you for the inform-”

“Got it!” Charming said. Suddenly my vision flickered and strange bars appeared just at the bottom edge of my vision.

“What? What’d-” I said, my head shaking back and forth.

“Relax,” Charming said, magically gripping my head and holding it still. “Look at me.” I stared into the goggled eyes of Charming as she spoke. “The heads-up display spell takes some time to get accustomed to. But I assure you, once you are used to it you will wonder how you ever went without.”

“If you say so…” I muttered.

We parted ways with Charming not long after, warning her to avoid Ministry Town for the time being. Sentinel lead us down a cracked and half-buried road, moving at a quick, but steady pace. Jerry followed behind him, occasionally asking him a question about the wasteland, his time in it or places that we might one day see. I brought up the rear, doing my best to ignore the strange new… additions to my vision and, if I’m honest, struggling to figure out where to go. Sentinel was right, he couldn’t lead us through the wasteland indefinitely. Eventually, we’d have to figure out some place to go. And I didn’t know any place except...

“Baltimare…” I muttered.

Sentinel’s ears flicked and he held up a hoof to interrupt Jerry as he stopped and glanced back.

“What was that, kid?” he asked.

“I just… I remember,” I muttered, staring at the ground beneath my hooves as I grasped at the wisps of faded memory. “We were leaving Manehattan for a new life. A life in Baltimare. We’d stopped for the night. Less than a day’s travel from the city…”

“That’s when Fortune’s slavers found us,” Jerry chimed in, her ears flattening. “The three of us…”

“That’s a truly depressin’ story an’ all, but what’s it got to do with the ‘ere and now?” Sentinel asked as he moved his hoof in a slow circle in front of him, as if trying to draw the information out of me.

“What if you took us to Baltimare?” Sentinel and Jerry shared a look. A look I knew all too well. “What stupid thing did I say now?” I asked with a sigh.

“Free,” Jerry started, her tone cautious and gentle. “That’s a bit far.”

“How far could it be? That’s where Fortune got us all.” Again, they shared a significant look.

“‘E doesn’t know?” Sentinel asked.

Jerry nodded, a sad look on her face. “He never left The Dig before the other day.”

“What don’t I know?” I asked. The pair looked at me, then back at each other and then back at me as Jerry answered.

“Free, Baltimare is about five, maybe even six hundred miles from here.”

“Is that… far?” I asked. Jerry bit her lip and Sentinel sighed.

“Very. It’d take a couple of months to travel that far on hoof,” Jerry said.

“What?”

“‘S true, mate. It’d take us a bit ta trot there. And there’s a whole mess of bad between ‘ere and there.”

“But… how… I mean, we fell asleep and when we woke up-”

Jerry trotted over and placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Free, they drugged us. You weren’t up by the gate like me. Over the years I’ve seen them bring in cartloads of drugged up foals. I heard Bruiser say they used some med-x mixture to ‘keep the little shits out’.”

“We’re… we’re that far?” I muttered. Sentinel nodded.

“We’re closer to the edge o’ Equestria than to Baltimare,” he said. “Once you head far enough south you ‘it The Dunes, and that’s ‘bout where Equestria gives way ta other places.”

“Well, there goes my bright idea. You have anything, Jerry?” I asked glancing her direction.

Jerry tensed, her eyes wide. “Me? W-well… I guess we could just head for Deepwater like you mentioned,” she offered, finding herself suddenly on the spot.

“That… might be difficult. Deepwater isn’t keen on lettin’ just anypony in. Not permanently. An’ not unless they can pay. An’ I’m guessing the two o’ you ain’t got much in the way o’ marketable skills for when your stack o’ caps dwindles.”

It was a fair point. I doubt my muscle and Jerry’s scavenging chops would be much help.

“Well, then it’s up to you,” I said, looking at the ghoul.

“What?” he asked, looking at me. He twisted to look at Jerry, finding a similar look on her face. “Since when do ya’ll listen to me?”

“Since you reamed us for not listening to you,” Jerry muttered.

“You said it yourself,” I said, pulling his attention back to me. “We don’t know what we’re doing out here. That’s why you’re here. Where should we go?”

After an hour, the cracked road we’d been traveling crossed over another. A large, rusted signpost had been erected in the center of the crossroads. Wooden or metal slats had been nailed into place on the post haphazardly. Crudely scrawled in white paint on each were names and arrows indicating a direction. Sentinel stood in front of it a moment and then turned to face us.

“Right, this’ll work. Pick a place,” he said, gesturing up at the signs.

“What?” Jerry said, echoing my own thoughts.

“Look, I signed on ta ‘elp you two get where you’re going. But ya don’t know where you’re going. That’s fine. It was… wrong of me to bite your ‘eads off about that. But I can’t tell ya where it is ya want ta go. You’re not slaves anymore. This choice you ‘ave ta make on your own. But,” he said gesturing back up at the signs, “I can make it a bit easier on ya. These are the major settlements in the Badlands. They’re all established and relatively secure. Pick one, and we’ll go there.”

Jerry and I lifted our gaze from Sentinel to look at the options available to us. There were, honestly, more than I was expecting.

Deepwater Gulch
Scrapyard
Fairway City
Coastline
Coltarado Plateau
Rust Rail
Ministry Town

There were more slats piled at the bottom of the post. I stepped forward and flipped over the top one. The name was faded, but I made out the name as being ‘Junction’.

“What happened to these?” I asked.

Sentinel glanced down and scowled at the pile. “Not every place can fend off the wasteland,” he said solemnly. He flipped the top-most sign over, revealing the barest hints of a name that had faded or been scraped away.

Jerry stepped forward and cocked her head at the signpost. “Well, what if we kept going to Deepwater Gulch?” she asked sheepishly, pointing in the direction the sign indicated. “We’ve talked about it enough that I’m kinda eager to see it now.”

Sentinel glanced over at me and I shrugged. I didn’t really have a preference other than being with Jerry. I looked in the direction she and the sign pointed. It was more shifting barren hills and the odd bit of misshapen scrub brush.

“Deepwater it is,” Sentinel said with a nod as he started down the road towards a mountain range in the distance. “They’ve got strict policies on citizenship. You need to be able to prove your worth to the settlement.”

“Well… I’m big and strong, and I can dig…” I muttered, feeling more than a little lacking in the skill department. “But that’s about it.”

“We both know how to farm a bit,“ Jerry chimed in. “The slavers had us doing it as foals.”

Sentinel nodded and smiled, if a bit sadly. “Those are all good things. We’ll throw in that ya got some caps to spare and that should be good enough if that’s where ya decide ya want ta stay.”

“What will you do?” Jerry asked. When Sentinel looked her way she glanced down. “When we get to Deepwater, I mean. What will YOU do?”

Sentinel shrugged and returned his gaze to the road ahead of him. “I’ll carry on, I ‘spose. Like always,” he said. “Til I can’t no more…” I heard him mutter afterwards. I thought about asking him what he meant but decided it was better to leave it alone. Sentinel was a mystery, but not one I felt was my right to solve. Jerry didn’t share my opinion.

“What does that mean?” she asked, quickening her pace to trot alongside him. “‘Til you can’t’, what do you mean?”

“I’m a ghoul, love,” he said, as though that would answer everything.

“So? You’re not a mindless feral,” she said, with a warm smile. “You’re still a pony.”

“Yeah,” Sentinel croaked. “Still a pony…” He shook his head and looked back to the road. “Come on. Time’s a-wastin’.”

“What else do you know about Deepwater?” I asked, moving up to Sentinel’s left as we continued down the road. “What’s it like?”

“Been some time since I was there myself, but from what I ‘eard around Vi’s, it’s not changed much,” he said. “As I said before, it’s nice. Full of good folk. They’re just a bit picky on who can stay. That’s why ya need skills. Farming is always a good skill. People need to eat. Digging is good too, since Deepwater builds into the mountains to keep safe.”

“That’s great, we won’t be totally useless!” Jerry whinnied excitedly.

Sentinel continued to fill us in on the few details he could recall as we trotted down the road. The stallion kept a brisk pace and more than once had to slow down as Jerry or I lagged behind. As we crested the next hill, he slowed his pace and scowled as Jerry and I caught up to him.

“Dammit…” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“What is it?” Jerry asked stepping up beside him. “What’s wr- Oh…” Her words fell off as she laid eyes on the scene. “Should we be concerned?” I trotted up on the other side of Sentinel, curious to see what it was that had both of them so distracted. At the foot of our small hill, just off the road, a small, concrete building had been built. It looked… new, lacking all the cracks and broken chunks that seemed to mar the other buildings we’d seen. A small stairwell led down into it and standing right next to that was a unicorn in clothing that looked disturbingly like Sentinel’s.

“Alright, don’t say anythin’. Let me handle this,” Sentinel hissed as he started down the hill towards the soldier, whose horn flared and his weapon slipped off his back.

“Hold, in the name of the Equestrian Armed Forces,” he said when we were a few feet away. This close I could see that the ‘soldier’ before us had to be younger than me and barely old enough to be considered grown. “You’re traversing an Equestrian toll road. I’m going to need fifty caps each to allow you to continue.”

“What in the name of the Goddesses do you think you’re doing, private?” Sentinel barked, his voice so suddenly loud that Jerry and I flinched away from him. The young soldier straightened instinctively but looked confused.

“S-sorry?”

Sentinel dashed forward, coming face to face with the colt. “You’re damned right you’re sorry! I asked you a question private! What. Do you think. You are doing.” he repeated, loudly and right in front of the kid’s face.

“S-sir! Toll road duty, sir!” the soldier barked, standing up straight and staring over Sentinel’s shoulder at nothing in particular.

“Toll duty? Whose shitlist are you on private?” Sentinel continued, now walking in a slow circle around the scared soldier.

“Sir, no one’s, sir.”

“Bullshit! I bet you made a right arse of yourself in front of General Ironclad ‘imself!”

The soldier shook his head but managed to keep looking forward at the same time. “Sir! No sir!”

“Don’t you lie to me, private!”

“Sir! Never sir!”

“What is your name you miserable dung heap?!”

“Sir! Private Kettlebell sir!”

“Private Kettlebell, eh? Well Private Kettlebell, where are the others?” Kettlebell opened his mouth but said nothing. “Son of a bitch, private! I asked you a question!”

“Sir! What others, sir!”

“Goddesses damn you, private! C’mere!” Sentinel roared. His horn flared and the front of Kettlebell’s uniform bunched up in it as Sentinel dragged him over to the bunker. “This is a four pony checkpoint, private! But you appear to be alone! WHERE. ARE. THE. OTHERS.”

Kettlebell again opened his mouth, and then shut it again. I’d seen slaves do the same thing when questioned as they fight to keep some secret. It never ended well.

“GODDESSES DAMN YOU PRIVATE! ANSWER ME!”

“They told me not to say!”

A quiet fell over us as Kettlebell bit his lip and glanced around nervously. He looked guilty, like he’d just betrayed somepony.

“Where are they, private?” Sentinel asked, his voice now calm, as though he hadn’t been screaming just a moment ago.

“Th-they went to Deepwater, sir. Told me to keep things held down while they went for a little fun,” he said, his ears drooping.

“New recruit, aren’t you,” Sentinel said. He wasn’t asking. Kettlebell nodded again. “Kettlebell, secure yourself in the checkpoint and do not come out until your comrades return. Let anypony who comes through pass. It’s too dangerous to stop groups alone. Understood?”

Kettlebell looked at the checkpoint and then back at Sentinel. “B-but sir…”

“Private,” Sentinel said, added a bit of edge to his tone. Kettlebell flinched, nodded, saluted and then retreated into the small bunker. The door locked a moment later with a resounding metal clank as Sentinel turned to us.

“What did I just see?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“Conditioning. The army needs you to follow orders. First part of basic training is to break you so that when someone yells for you to duck, you don’t question it.” Sentinel said, glancing back over his shoulder. “Kid’s green as grass. Bark at him with enough authority and you can get’em, to do just about anythin’.”

Jerry scowled. “Sounds kinda like what the slavers did to us.”

Sentinel nodded slowly and then started down the road again. “Yeah… Yeah, it does…” he muttered. “C’mon. Deepwater’s only a couple hours away now. We can make it well before dark if we keep a steady pace.”

The mountains were… huge. I guess that seems kind of stupid, but it’s not like I could go and see them whenever I wanted. Porous ruddy rock rose from the ground, stabbing upwards before disappearing somewhere past the clouds. My neck ached from looking up so much, and I wondered if this was what Jerry felt when she talked with-

I bumped into Jerry’s backside, nearly knocking her from her hooves.

“Oof! Careful big guy!” Jerry said as I stumbled back a step, feeling my face begin to flush.

“S-sorry. I was distracted,” I said quickly. Jerry’s brow disappeared behind her bangs and then she fixed me with an almost predatory look.

“Distracted? By what, Free?” she half purred and half growled. Her tail swished just so and it took every ounce of my willpower not to fall for the bait.

“The mountains. They’re bigger than I thought they’d be,” I said, nodding my head at the spires of red rock. Jerry smirked and looked up at them.

“I keep forgetting you didn’t get to see the same things I did,” she said, sounding almost sad. “It must be… nice to see things with fresh wonder.”

“There’s the gate,” Sentinel called from up ahead. Jerry pranced in place excitedly before trotting over to stand beside him.

“Oh wow…” she breathed.

I trotted up beside her and took in the full view. The mountains we’d been walking towards reached up towards the cloud curtain. A metal fortification had been set up, cordoning off a small portion of the mountain, complete with the moving forms of guards patrolling the top. The mountain itself had been ripped apart by time, and a visible trench ran through it, twisting out of view. Rust coated gantries crisscrossed the divide, and as I continued to trace my eyes along the crevice I spotted balconies where more armed guards could fire down upon anyone foolish enough to attack the front wall. Now I understood what Sentinel had been saying.

“Right, no sudden moves. Guards are probably a bit twitchy from the other day,” Sentinel said, his logic brooking no argument from Jerry or myself. We trotted forward, making straight for the gates. The entrance to Deepwater was at the center of the wall, a single large door, not unlike the door we passed through to leave The Dig. As we approached a trio of guards appeared at the top of the wall.

“Welcome to Deepwater Gulch,” shouted a rough-looking, older, unicorn stallion. “What brings you fine folks here?” The two guards flanking him raised their rifles, taking careful aim at the three of us.

“I’ve got a couple of ‘opefuls looking for permanent residence,” Sentinel called, gesturing at the pair of us with a nod of his head. The old stallion fixed us with a discerning eye.

“‘Fraid they don’t look like they have too much to offer,” he said after a moment.

Sentinel scowled up at the stallion. “Kinda ‘ard for you to judge without a proper interview, ain’t it?” he called back, a growl just at the edge of his voice.

“Look, if your friends want in so bad they’ll need to prove themselves. We can’t just let any Harry Hardluck or Sally Sadstory in here, now can we?”

Sentinel let out a long low sigh as Jerry and I exchanged glances. “What ‘ave you got in mind?”

“It just so happens that one of our purifiers is on the blink. Need us a part to fix it. Only problem is that part isn’t exactly easy to come by. Need you fine folks to head over to the factory a ways down the road and see if you can scrounge up a new one.”

When he mentioned the factory, a small peg appeared on top of the compass at the bottom of my vision. As I turned my head to look down the road, the peg centered itself on the bar.

“What does it look like?” Jerry called, stepping up next to Sentinel. I returned my attention to them, noticing that the bar again shifted to the left of my vision.

“What are you doing?” Sentinel asked her.

“I’m a scavenger. This is what I do. But we can’t find something particular if we don’t know what it looks like,” she said quickly before calling back up to the guards. “We need to know exactly what it is we are looking for if you expect us to find it.”

The guard gave Jerry a strange look and then muttered something to the other two, who smiled. “Little lady, you realize that you would be the first pony to ask us just what it is we’re looking for?” he called, leaning forward on the wall.

Jerry’s brow furrowed and her ears twitched. “But… then how did anyone find what it was you needed?” she asked.

The guards laughed uproariously, wiping at their eyes. “They didn’t. We raided that factory ages ago. Took everything that wasn’t bolted down and some of the things that was,” he said, reached forward to bang his hoof against the front of their scrap wall. “Most folks come back sorely confused. It gives us an idea of what they have to offer our little settlement.”

“What sort of idea did you get from us?” Jerry asked.

The guard leaned forward, offering Jerry a warm grin that seemed just a little slimy. Jerry must have felt it too because she shied away. “You asked a very important question. That means you’re more’n just a pretty face. Ya got some brains. Brains are in short supply these days.”

“So… can we come in?” Jerry asked. The guard shook his head, and Jerry’s ears fell in disappointment.

“That’d be a no, but the good news is you folks seem competent enough that we can see what you got. Truth is, we really do have a purifier out. We need a new flange to get it operational again.” The unicorn’s horn sparked with orange magic and a large metal disc lifted over the lip of the wall and floated down to us. “Now, there’s a factory a bit to the north. We’ve sent a couple of our scavengers up that way to try and find it, but they didn’t return. Normally we’d send a couple guards up after’em, but with the recent bullshit with the Gouged Eye, I haven’t got anypony to spare. If you can find a flange to fix our purifier and find out what happened to my ponies, then I’ll put in a good word for you with Mayor Spring Blossom. Sound fair?”

Jerry glanced over her shoulder at Sentinel, who offered her a non-committal shrug. She scowled and then looked at me. This could be it. The turning point of our life. A chance to settle down somewhere safe and protected. A chance at a life, with her. I nodded. Jerry smiled a little and then looked back up at the guard.

“We’ll do it!” As she spoke, words appeared in my vision in vibrant green text. ‘New Mission: Fee for Entry’.

“That’s weird…” I muttered.

Footnote: LEVEL UP!

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!

Pip-Buck Novice

Wait, you mean this is more than a radio and a night light?

Author's Notes:

BAM!

Chapter 8 for all you lovely readers.

Featuring the debut of not only another location in the Badlands but a featured character!
For those of you who don't read my blogs, I have a habit of rewarding my active readers/commenters by adding them into my story in some fashion.

Fair Play got his in Chapter 5 and now, The Dragon Hunter gets his here with out delightfully crazy ghoul. Here are the specifics I was given.

Name: Charming Dawn
Gender: Female
Species: Unicorn - Canterlot ghoul
Description: She wears her armored NBC suit all the time, so no-one really know what she looks like under the mask, only that she has a tall lean body, taller than average compared to most mares, but smaller than stallions like Big Mac or Free in terms of body mass.
Her attire is a dull green NBC suit with pieces of combat armor attached to it. The mask is black, with two round filters at the sides and large blue round goggles.
She carries a modified Pipbuck to collect her data and record her audio logs, while her weapon is a laser rifle.

I did some research (mostly because I was not too knowledgeable on the subject) NBC (Nuclear, Biological, Chemical) clothing is actually outdated, having been replaced with CBRN (Chemical, Biological, Radiological, Nuclear). I spoke with my editor and to fit the theme we altered it to CBRM (Chemical, Biological, Radiological, Magical). Not that it comes up in the story, but there you go anyway :P

Dragon Hunter, I hope you enjoy it. Everybody stay tuned for the next update and thank you so much for following along!

Chapter 9 - Somewhere That's Green

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“I’ve been in three stables. I’m beginning to think saving ponies wasn’t what Stable-Tec really wanted...” - Anonymous Stable Hunter

The factory door creaked open on protesting hinges, spilling wan light in to meet the flickering lights on the interior. The stench of mold and dust washed over us, as we stepped inside, Sentinel taking an extra moment to secure the door behind us. The lights buzzed angrily as they flickered in and out, casting long shadows across rusting equipment that was just as alien to me as any other I’d seen. I looked up and around, my eyes following along the conveyors and machines, trying to figure out where we might find a specific doodad. Unless the thing we were looking for was big and heavy, this was definitely outside of my element. A glance over at Jerry showed me that she was entirely in hers. Her eyes were bright and a smile tugged at her lips as she was taking mental stock of what would’ve been a treasure trove during one of her scavenging missions. She trotted forward and scampered up onto a machine, peering into its guts and muttering to herself. Meanwhile, Sentinel and I stood in place. He looked bored. I’m sure I looked lost.

“So…” I muttered, “Should we leave the scavenging to the one who’s good at it?”

Sentinel chuckled and trotted over to the machinery that Jerry busied herself with. Reaching up to bang a hoof on the exterior he called out, “Oi, princess. You and the big guy stay ‘ere. I’m gonna scout the area. See if I can’t find them ponies from Deepwater.”

Jerry’s foreleg reached back and waved dismissively at Sentinel, but she was too busy in her own little world to say anything back. He shrugged, drew his weapon from his back and moved deeper into the building, leaving Jerry and I alone. Alone. And free. I chewed my lip nervously. Would now be a good time to say anything?

“Jerry?” I called.

There was a moment of silence in the guts of the machine, followed by a muffled, “Yeah?”

I looked down, scuffing my hoof against the dusty floor. Just tell her. Tell her and at least that weight will be off your chest. “Jerry… I uhh, just wanted to say… That is… what do you think of Deepwater?” I asked while internally I was bashing myself in the head with a rock.

Jerry pried herself from the guts of the machine, a smear of grease across her left cheek. “Deepwater?” she repeated and then shrugged. “I don’t know… it’s… different.” she said, looking down at me. “Everything is so… different…”

“Right?” I chimed in, smiling up at her. “Its… overwhelming… having choices we can make. Things we can act on. Things we can… hope for.”

Jerry’s ears twitched as she looked at me. And for a moment, it felt like she was thinking the same thing. She smiled at me, “Free, I-”

“Hey!” Sentinel’s voice rang out from wherever he’d gotten to. Jerry’s mouth snapped shut and she craned her head around, her sentence forgotten. I began to scream internally.

“Sentinel?” Jerry called, as she climbed out of the machine and hopped down to the floor. “C’mon Free, let’s see what he found,” she said as she trotted off. I stared after her for a second, a strangled scream dying in my throat as I trudged after her. Patience… good things come to those who wait…

Sentinel stood near an open door, leading into some kind of office adjacent to the workspace. “Did you see somepony?” I asked.

Sentinel shook his head. “Nah, but they must’ve been this way,” he said, gesturing down at the ground. The dust on the floor had been disturbed, so somepony had been here recently. Sentinel stepped through first, pushing the door open as wide as it would go and scanning the interior with his rifle. It looked… empty. Well, empty is the wrong word. Abandoned. The desks and filing cabinets were rifled through and their contents spilled across the floor. Age brittle paper crunched underhoof as I stepped around the desk and peered into the open drawers.

“They’re looking for a part right? Pretty sure it wouldn’t be in a desk,” I muttered.

“It's scavenging, Free,” Jerry said as she trotted past and pulled open a closed drawer that somepony must’ve missed. “If I learned anything while going out on those scavenging runs, its that pre-war ponies left all sorts of weird things in all sorts of weird places.” She reached a hoof into the drawer and scraped out a couple of bullets that looked like they’d fit her pistol and tucked them into her pack with a satisfied smile.

“Wait… why were there bullets in there?” I asked, pointing a hoof at the drawer. Both Sentinel and Jerry shrugged and continue on, occasionally stopping to look through something that the previous passer-throughs had missed. I took one last look at the drawer and then followed behind them. “So… what kind of place was this?” I asked Sentinel.

He glanced at me and then levitated some papers of the desk nearest to him to peer at them. “Uhhh… looks like it was a… prototype self-contained all-in-one textile mill. They made uniforms for the military.”

“All-in-one?” Jerry asked.

“That’s what it says?” Sentinel said, letting that papers fall back to the desk.

“An operation like this would need water. Water needs plumbing,” I said to him.

He nodded, looking just a little impressed with the pair of us. “I mean… that makes sense,” he said nodding carefully.

“So… we’d need pipes to bring in the water.” I glanced up towards the ceiling. An orderly row of several pipes ran across the ceiling before disappearing down a stairwell.

“Well look at Mr. Wastelander here,” Jerry said with approval. “It’s like you’ve been a scavenger all your life.”

I smiled but didn’t say anything. Instead, I began down the stairs. It got cooler as we descended. More pipes and cables emerged from the ceiling, snaking around ancient flickering lights - all heading deeper and deeper. Soon, the walls and floors were a twisted maze of pipes and cables that didn’t appear to make any sense.

“Oh, this looks… inviting...” Jerry muttered.

“This was a Stable-Tec operation,” Sentinel said quietly, the faint glow of his magic casting a blue haze over everything as he kept his weapon at the ready.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“Stable-Tec built modular structures. If you can use it in one, you can use it in all of ’em. More cost effective that way. Easier to repair. When you’ve been in one Stable, you’ve been in them all,” Sentinel said, nudging me aside as he took the lead. “All the pipes n’ stuff are different though.”

“You’ve been in a stable too?” I asked in hushed tones. Something about this place was setting me on edge. Images of the dead we’d seen in Stable 121 filtered through my brain one by one.

“Oh yeah,” he said as the stairwell leveled out into a straight corridor. “Once or twice. I hear there’re loads of them all over Equestria. Some wastelanders hunt them like treasure. Many don’t come back.”

“What do you think we’ll find in here?” Jerry asked.

Sentinel shrugged. “Dunno. I think if there was a stable down here, somepony would’ve found it by now. We’re not the first ponies down here. Deepwater knows about this place, they’ve been here more’n once to scavenge. They’d have found it before now.” Sentinel stopped suddenly, the barrel of his rifle dipping slightly. His horn flared brighter, filling the tunnel with blue light. “Unless they hid it behind a fake wall…” he muttered.

Up ahead a section of wall had been pushed outward on a hidden hinge. Spindly tangles of vines snaked out of an opening just wide enough for a pony to get through. More vines draped across the top of the hidden door and across the concrete floor. Jerry hung back a step, shaking her head. “I don’t like it… there wasn’t anything good about the last stable…” she muttered.

“Yeah… but we’re looking for some missing scavengers. What scavenger wouldn’t go into a stable?” I asked. Jerry opened her mouth, but no counter argument came.

“Goddesses dammit…” she muttered. She looked back over her shoulder and then sighed. “Fine, let’s go…”

Sentinel was already stepping through the gap, his shoulder armor scraping the edges as he squeezed through. Jerry followed immediately after, slipping through without much effort. When it came to my turn, I stepped up to the opening and scowled. “I’m too big…” I muttered.

Jerry’s face appeared in the gap as she sized up the problem. “Yeah, you’re not fitting through that,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Hang on.” She disappeared from view again and I could hear her talking with Sentinel somewhere out of sight. After a moment she re-appeared. “Sentinel says the door mechanism is jammed. If you want in we’re gonna have to force it open.”

I looked at the opening, taking a moment to examine it. As far as I could tell, it was like a regular door, only bigger and made to blend in. “Okay, hang on.” I reared back onto my hind legs and squeezed into the gap as much as I could. Bracing my forelegs against the wall, I pushed as hard as I could. At first, there was nothing, and then the door groaned loudly and opened just a bit wider. I pushed harder, gritting my teeth as I put as much strength into it as I could. The door scraped across the ground, grating across the concrete flooring. The vines that had grown over the top of the door grew taut and then snapped one by one, a thick sticky goop leaking from the ends and dripping foul-smelling sludge on top of me.

Once the opening was wide enough for me to fit through, I dropped to the floor and joined Jerry and Sentinel. Just inside the door was a small and unusually bare room, mostly empty save for a few crates and containers and a console next to a large cog-shaped door. It looked like a large plug that would fit snugly into the slot in the wall but something had pulled or pushed it out of place and moved it partly to the side. Emblazoned on the front of it were the numbers ‘116’ Thin snaking tendrils of green vines grew out through the opening, and made their way across walls and floor, a few daring ones even grew across the ceiling. Sentinel and Jerry had busied themselves with the crates as I peered into the new opening.

“What’s with all the plants?” I asked.

“Haven’t the faintest,” Sentinel said as he pushed the container he’d been going through aside and moved over to me. He brushed a hoof against the vines on the floor and then pressed down on them experimentally. Nothing happened. “It’s definitely weird. Be careful.”

“Well, shit,” Jerry muttered as she tipped the box she’d been going through onto the floor. “Anything of value’s already been pulled out of these.” She turned and froze, looking at Sentinel and I standing in the entrance to the Stable. “Uhhh, we’re not going in there, right?”

I glanced back through the door and then back at Jerry. “I thought we went through this already. Right now it’s our best guess on where the scavengers are.”

“Oh no,” Jerry said with a shake of her head. She backed up, stopping only when she bumped into the empty containers she’d gone through. “Are you kidding me? After the last one we went into?”

“We’re still looking for-” I started but Jerry raised her hooves.

“No! Not doing it!” She crossed her forelegs and looked away, muttering under her breath.

“It's fine. I’ll go. Sentinel, you stay here and keep Jerry safe,” I said as I stepped through the opening.

Sentinel shrugged and nodded. “Sure thing.”

“W-what?” Jerry called after me. “But-”

“It’s fine. I’ll shout if I need help,” I said and continued into the Stable.

The stable was different than the last in that it didn’t have the automated intake area. Instead, the entrance was little more than a security room and a wide hallway leading to another set of stairs containing only a scant few benches and the odd desk. The odd part was all of it was covered by thick, green plants. Large, fanned leaves sprouted from a squat brown stump that had grown out of the corner. A thin layer of moss-covered most surfaces and the air was warm and wet and reeked of something almost sickly sweet. I brushed my hoof across my forehead, wincing when I smacked myself with the edge of the pipbuck. Gotta remember: other hoof now.

This place was the most alien I had ever seen. The Badlands had plants, sure, but nothing so… alive. Mostly squat brown brush struggling to survive. This was like… what’d they call it… a juggle? The security room was a bust. Peeking through the window, I saw the ceiling inside had collapsed against the door making it inaccessible. That only left one direction to go. I brushed my hoof across the reaching fronds of one of the plants as I made my way to the stairwell and started down.

“Hello?” I called loudly when I’d reached the next landing. “Anypony here?” No response. “I’m not here to hurt you,” I called as I started down the corridor, stepping over vines and pushing aside the thick leaves that occasionally obscured the path. “I was sent by… uhh… well, I don’t know his name. Somepony that guards the entrance to Deepwater.” I stopped at a junction and waited, listening. Nothing. I was basically talking to myself and to the plants. I wiped my brow again, this time with the safe hoof, and started down the left corridor.

It was about the third, overgrown and musty room before I began to regret leaving Jerry and Sentinel behind. Most of the doors in this place were open or forced slightly so by the rampant plant life which had lost its wonder the second time I’d been forced to rip through a blockage of vines and gotten covered in more of the putrid sap. The corridor ended in a moss-coated wall and with a sigh, I turned to head back the way I’d come.

Foul yellow teeth snapped shut just an inch from my face.

“Fuck!” I screamed as I stumbled back a step. My hooves scraped across the mossy floor and I fell backwards, landing awkwardly on my back. Liberator fell out of its hooks and landed on the floor with a dull thud. I looked up at my attacker and felt my brain come to a shuddering halt as it tried to process what it was I was looking at. It looked like a pony in shape only. Damp moss grew where skin should be and writhing vines sprouted from its back. It stood still for a moment, the only movement from it was the twitching of its vines before it’s mouth opened and it lunged once more. My brain startled into life once more by fight or flight, I brought up my hind legs and kicked as hard as I could. The plant thing lifted off its feet and smacked wetly against the ceiling before landing in a heap on the floor. It began to thrash about wildly as I got to my hooves. It twisted in the middle, far more than a spine should allow and scraped at the floor, trying to get to me.

“Fuck you!” I growled as I twisted and grabbed Liberator from the floor with my forelegs. I swung it in an overhead arc and brought the heavy concrete end down. The thing let out a shrill shriek as Liberator drove it back into the floor, but still it gnashed its teeth at me. I pulled the club free and brought it down again, harder still. The mossy skin split open, and that same thick green sludge spurted from the wounds. Its shriek became a wet gurgle and with one final swing, the creature was silent, still, and nearly split in two. I lowered Liberator to the floor, dropped back onto all fours, and then onto my rear as I took slow, deep breaths.

“Okay, Jerry… you were right… again…” I muttered. I took a minute to calm down and catch my breath and then got to my hooves. I retrieved Liberator and set it back into its hooks before stepping around the expanding pool of slime leaking from the ruined plant creature. I briefly thought of running back to the others but shook the idea off. In the time it took me to get them, the scavengers we were looking for could die. How many more of these things could there be?

Oh, that many.

I’d found the atrium. Vibrant purple flowers grew from the coiling vines that had wrapped themselves around the guardrails and up each of the supports. Under different circumstances, this would probably be a beautiful sight. But the shuddering, half-plant half-pony creatures that paced the bottom floor ruined the moment.

“Yeah, definitely not liking Stables,” I muttered as I stepped as close to the railing as I dared and peered over the edge. The plant creatures staggered awkwardly around the atrium floor, at least thirty of them. As I watched, one laid down in a patch of moss against the wall. The vines on its back spread out and a couple unfurled into fanned leaves. In moments the creature was completely hidden. Great, there was no telling how many I’d already passed. “You know who would be great here?” I found myself muttering. “Fricassee…” I nodded as I carefully and quietly made my way around the overlook toward the nearest door. I reached up and tapped my hoof against the door panel. It buzzed angrily and refused to open. I pressed it again, this time hearing something inside -slightly muffled voices and something being pushed against the door.

“I think one of them is at the door!” somepony said. A mare by the sound of it.

“Relax, they can’t open it,” said another. A stallion if I had to guess.

“H-hey? Are you the scavengers from Deepwater?” I called through the door.

The tiny speaker in the door control crackled. “H-hello? Hello? What are you doing here? How’d you make it past those… things?” Definitely a mare.

“Uhh, I walked,” I said, hoping they could hear me without having to press anything. “Only one has attacked me so far.”

“Did it bite you?” she asked.

“No, it tried its best though.”

“Good, because it fuckin’ hurts!” the stallion interrupted. “Listen closely, I need you to do something for us. This office sealed when we took shelter inside. It won’t open until the fungal outbreak has been dealt with.”

“Uhh… I don’t think I can fight all these things,” I muttered. “I’m strong, but not invincible.”

“You don’t have to! According to the terminal we found in here, there’s a containment failsafe. Look up. Do you see the sprinkler?” I glanced up. There was a dingy sprinkler head jutting from the ceiling. “The fire suppression system can also spray a powerful antifungal agent. We just need to activate it and all the creatures should begin to die.”

It’s all coming full circle. I knew Fricassee would’ve been helpful here. “So,” I said, “I just need to start a fire.”

“No. A regular fire won’t mix in the antifungals. You need to- dammit, I’m bleeding again… to get to one of the research labs and trigger it from there.”

“Let me guess…” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “The labs are downstairs… with all those things…” The pensive silence from the speaker answered my question. I sighed. “Alright. What’s the fastest way down there?”

“Y-you’re gonna help us?” the mare said.

“Well… yeah, that’s the whole reason I’m here,” I said. Once again, words appeared in my vision, ‘Fungus Among Us’. I glanced down at my pipbuck. “Really?” I muttered at it.

“Th-thank you. Thank you so much. We’ve been stuck in here for days! We’ll wait here for you. Stay safe!”

I moved to the railing and glanced down again. “Yeah… safe…”

It took me a few minutes to find a stairwell that wasn’t choked with plants. It had taken me several more to get to the bottom level. There I stood, on the last step, looking at the gauntlet I found myself running. Down here the air was practically dripping it was so humid. Also, the moss didn’t cover the walls so much as it formed small rolling hills down the entire length of the corridor. I eyed each patch of leaves like I was a lunatic. Any of it could be a creature in waiting. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have to head through the atrium on this level. But then, when was I ever that lucky?

I took my first tentative step. Followed by my second. I carefully made my way down the corridor, ducking under or around the leaves where I could. It felt like a dozen eyes were on me, but nothing stirred. Nothing rushed at me. Yet, that nagging voice at the back of my mind said, “Nothing is attacking you... yet.”

Suddenly, moss peeled away from the wall as one of the creatures made itself known. It opened its jaws wide, ropey drool dripping from them as it charged. There wasn’t enough space to draw Liberator, and not for the first time I began to wish I had that oh-so-useful unicorn horn. I raised a hoof in front of my face as the yellow teeth closed around either side of the armored plate there. My hooves scraped across the ground and I found myself pinned, my back against the wall as its teeth scraped the edges of my leg armor. I raised my free foreleg and brought it down as hard as I could on the things skull. There was a dull thunk and the creature’s grip loosened for a second. Before I could ready another blow, the vines along the creature’s back coiled around my leg, pulling it aside.

“That’s fucking cheating!” I grunted as I pushed back against the creature. I aimed to push it against the opposite wall, but when its back connected with the moss, we tumbled through and landed in a room, the entrance of which had grown over. The creature, now beneath me, writhed and chewed at my armor. I planted my hind legs on its midsection and twisted, pulling at my ensnared foreleg. The vines strained and snapped, spilling more foul sap from the wounds. It shrieked around my armor plate jammed between its teeth. “I’m gonna need that back!” I growled as I placed my free hoof on its forehead and twisted the opposite direction, ripping my bitten limb free along with several broken teeth. Its jaws snapped wildly, flinging spittle and sap at me as it struggled to free itself. “Sorry about this!” I said as I reared back and brought both hooves down on its skull. It burst apart, coating my hooves in the thick sludge that passed for this thing’s innards and the body went still.

For a moment.

It suddenly began to thrash about wildly. Surprised, I jumped aside and braced myself for the thing to get up and attack again. Instead, its body began to distort, the limbs cracking and bending at odd angles. Its torso began to swell, bloating to two- no, three times its original size. Then, with a near-deafening boom, it burst. I was thrown through a mold covered table and smacked against the far wall by the force of the blast. My ears were ringing, again, and I found myself shaking my head as I tried to focus. A thick yellowish fog hung in the air, and I coughed and gagged with each breath. I staggered towards the open door and back into the corridor, struggling to take a breath.

“Get down!”

I hit the floor just as somepony opened fire. I heard the heavy ratatatat of a machine gun, immediately followed by the pained shrieks of the plant creatures. Something tugged at the back of my neck, and I was pulled closer to the sound of the gunfire.

“You’re a right ‘eavy git! Ya know that?” came a familiar drawl.

“S-sentinel?” I croaked.

“Who else? On your ‘ooves, these bastards aren’t stopping. We need to leave,” he said between bursts of machine gun fire.

“W-wait. We need to get to one of the labs!” I coughed, shaking off his magical hold on my armor.

“Are you daft?” He screamed.

I shook my head and pointed at the plant ponies. “It’s some kind of fungus. The labs have a built-in failsafe that should kill them!”

“Should? Not liking that uncertainty right now,” he said as the magazine ejected from his rifle. Another was slammed home in an instant and the firing resumed. “I ‘aven’t got unlimited ammo! You sure about this?”

“I am if we want to get those scavengers out of here!” I said as I got to my hooves. My throat burned and my eyes were watering. The whole corridor stank of the sap-blood spilling from the creatures as sentinel gunned them down. “Get behind me!” I said as I lowered my head. I scraped my hoof across the floor once and then started running. I built as much speed as I could, galloping right at the writhing, crawling creatures. I threw my shoulder into the first, lifting it off its hooves and used it as a battering ram as it scratched and scraped at my armor feebly. Sentinel was hot on my heels, putting a short burst into each of the creatures I knocked out of my way as he passed them.

“Where’s the bloody lab?” he shouted after me.

“Beats me! Look for something science-y,” I shrugged off my passenger and darted down a new corridor.

“What did I say ‘bout goin’ off ‘alf cocked?” His question was punctuated with another burst from his gun and the shriek of a plant creature.

“You can bitch at me if we survive!” I spied a partially open and slightly moss covered door and slipped through the gap. “Sweet Celestia, thank you,” I said as I could make out a bunch of technical looking equipment not unlike things I’d seen in Doc’s office. Sentinel was a second behind me. He practically dove through the gap and whipped around, putting a staccato burst through the door as one of the creatures got a little too close for comfort.

“Best find it quick! I’m starting to run dry ‘ere!” he shouted over the chaos. I whipped my head back and forth. If I were going to place an emergency button, where would I put it?

Here...

I spun in place and spotted a bright red button secured in a glass box. I dashed for the button and smashed my hoof right through the glass and into the button.

Nothing happened.

“Oh come the fuck on!”

“What now?” Sentinel shouted.

“I think it’s broken.”

“Then fix the bloody thing before we’re killed!”

Fix it? How did he expect me to fix it? I turned and bucked with all my strength. The button depressed and then deformed before its small control box flattened against the wall. Red emergency lighting flashed into life, accompanied by the blare of an alarm.

“Containment breach. Containment breach.” There was a faint rumbling noise, followed by the sprinklers coming to life. A blue-tinted liquid sprayed across the floors and walls. When it came into contact with the moss, it turned brown and sloughed off the wall. The creatures weren’t so lucky. They stumbled around, shrieking as their mossy skin blistered and peeled away. Their green sludge blood turned black and foamy as it spilled from open wounds. One by one, they fell, dissolving before my eyes. I was suddenly tingly all over and for a brief, terrifying moment, I worried that it might happen to me. I raised a leg and watched as the blue liquid harmlessly matted itself to my fur. The sap that I’d gotten all over myself fizzled and burned away, but thankfully it ended there.

“Nicely done,” Sentinel said as he stepped over to one of the dissolving corpses and nudged it with the barrel of his rifle. As I caught my breath the text appeared again, only this time it read; Fungus Among Us: COMPLETED. I nodded when something finally occurred to me. My heart thundered in my chest and I glanced into the hallway and then at Sentinel.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Jerry?” I asked.

“Relax. She’s topside. Poor girl was worried ‘bout ya but really didn’t want to come down ‘ere. Begged me to come watch your back. She cares for ya, mate,” he said as he stepped over a puddle of goop that was once a living, albeit horrible monster, and started back to the stairs.

“So… she’s safe?” I took a slow, deep breath, willing my head and heart to calm down.

“As houses.” Sentinel rolled his eyes. “Don’t forget, she’s got armor and a gun. She’ll be fine.” I nodded, trying to convince myself. “Hey,” Sentinel said, pulling my focus back to the here and now, “you said you found the scavengers?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s get them and get the hell out of here,” I said, quite eager to be done with this place.

By the time we got back to the top of the atrium, the sprinklers had shut off. Most of the growth had withered and died. Shriveled brown stumps and pools of sludge were all that stood in our way. I returned to the door and pressed the button. The door hissed open, retracting into the walls. A desk stood in the opening, cluttered with various things to try and barricade it. Clearly, these guys hadn’t thought this through very well.

“Hello? You still-” I started, but a leg jabbed out of the makeshift barricade at me. I stumbled back a step.

“Hurry! Hurry! You have to help him!” the mare shouted anxiously. The desk scraped away from the door and I saw a tired and very battered purple mare, looking to us with wide, terror-filled eyes. “Please, something’s wrong with Shadow Flash.”

Sentinel stepped past me and into the room. It was conspicuously free of the dying mold and looked relatively clean, if a little damp from the sprinklers. Shadow Flash was curled into a ball on the floor, his eyes shut tight and watering.

“What happened?” the ghoul asked as he knelt down next to the pony.

“I-I don’t know. He was fine until the sprinklers went off. Then he started screaming.”

Sentinel turned to look at her. “Was he injured?”

“We both were,” the mare said, holding out her forelegs to reveal several scratches and cuts that run up them before hitting her barding. “Those things scratched me all to hell and bit Shadow on the shoulder before we got in here.”

Sentinel checked the colt’s shoulder, then rolled him over and checked the other. The wound was red, swollen and weeping a black sludge. “Ah shit, I think the fungus infected him.” Sentinel wiped his hoof in a puddle of the blue fluid on the floor and then pressed it into the wound. The colt’s eyes shot open and he screamed as the wound began to foam.

“Stop! Stop! You’re killing him!” the mare shouted, grabbing at Sentinel’s uniform and trying to pull him away.

“Kid, keep her off me!” Sentinel growled as he dipped his hoof into the fungicide and pressed it into the wound again. I hooked a hoof around the mare and backed up a step, lifting her from the floor.

“Let me go! He’s killing shadow!” she screamed as she struggled against me.

“I think your friend is sick,” I said. “Sentinel’s trying to help.”

“Help? How is this helping?” she screamed. “This is torture!” As if to prove her point, Shadow screamed again, trying weakly to pull away from Sentinel.

“Hey! HEY!”Sentinel barked, shaking the colt. “LOOK AT ME!” Shadow’s eyes opened and he looked up at the ghoul in panic. “Them things that bit ya? They was filthy. The wound’s infected. I need to purge that shit from you or you WILL die. Do you understand?” Shadow nodded emphatically. “Good,” Sentinel said as he magically pulled a scrap of rolled leather from his saddlebag. “Bite down on this, son. It’s going to get really shitty now.” Shadow’s eyes widened and he hurriedly bit down on the leather. Sentinel’s horn flashed and the poison on the floor began to run together and drip into the air, collecting itself in a growing sphere of blue liquid just above the floor. The sphere floated over to the colt’s shoulder and then engulfed it entirely. Shadow screamed through the leather, as Sentinel telekinetically pushed the fluid into the wound. I could hear the fizzling sound as the fungicide did its work and after a minute Shadow relaxed, his breathing slowed and the wound looked decidedly less oozey. The mare relaxed as well, looking worriedly to her companion but no longer struggling.

“Shadow?” she called softly.

“He’s passed out, love,” Sentinel said as he got to his hooves. He turned to face us and looked the mare over quickly. “You ‘urt anywhere?”

“No,” she said absently, “Will Shadow be okay?”

“No idea. But he ain’t dead now. So that’s a start.” Sentinel retrieved his weapon and took a quick look around the room. His magic engulfed a small object on one of the desks and deposited it into his saddlebag. “Can you walk on your own, Miss…”

“Hazelblossom…” she said softly. “Yes, I can walk.”

“Good, cuz I doubt he can carry two of you.”

My ears pricked up. “He what- OOF!” I grunted as Shadow was deposited across my back suddenly as Sentinel’s levitation magic cut out. “Little warning next time?”

“C’mon. Let’s get back to the bird,” Sentinel said as he walked out of the room, completely ignoring me. Hazelblossom smiled at me and the pair of us trotted out.

I smiled and shook my head when something dawned on me. It reeked. “What is that smell?” I asked, waving a hoof in front of my face.

“I-I said we were in there for days!” the mare shouted, her face turning red as she trotted faster.

I felt better once we were out on the factory floor again, and even stopped glancing over my shoulder. Together, Sentinel and I managed to hook my pipbuck up to the stable door controls and seal it. Sentinel muttered something about using it as leverage at Deepwater, whatever that meant. Hazel kept to herself, mostly by constantly checking on her companion to see if he was still doing well.

“Jerry?” I called loudly. “We’re back. And mostly alive.”

“Oh good! I found the flange! I also spent all that time digging around and might’ve gotten a bit carried away,” she said as she trotted around a corner. The smear of grease she’d gotten earlier, was now joined by several more. “If you’re here though maybe you can… carry… oh…” she said, her voice trailing off when she saw the stallion draped across my back. “I’ll just… get a little more choosey on the salvage.” She offered a lopsided grin and then disappeared around the corner again. I heard a clatter and a loud thump as she began to sort through her little horde of treasure. I glanced at Sentinel who nodded and trotted after her.

“C’mon then la- Holy shit! ‘Ow in the world was you thinkin anypony could carry all that?!”

It took about an hour to weed out the best salvage from the pile that Jerry had built up, all of which I pulled behind me on a make-shift sled as we walked back to Deepwater.

“Are you sure he isn’t too heavy?” Hazel asked for roughly the hundredth time. I smiled and nodded. “Even though you’re dragging all that junk behind you?” I nodded again. She made a face and then moved a couple of steps closer to Jerry. “Is he… like… normal?” she asked in semi-hushed tones.

“Who? Free?” Jerry said with a smirk. “Oh, he’s anything BUT normal. I’ve seen him pull or lift things that would crush you or me.” She stifled a laugh. “There’s this mare where we’re from. Little, pent-up thing named Lash. She was always trying to find something Free couldn’t move.” Jerry’s nose scrunched up, and she struggled to keep her laughing in check. “This- this one time, she got a two pony cart. And she has the others load it full of ore. And when I say load, I mean packed to the brim. Then she drags Free over to it and just says ‘Move it.’ No other directions. Just ‘Move it.’” Jerry had stopped walking now and raised her hooves to pantomime out her story. “So Free, slips into the harness, digs in his hooves and gives it all he’s got. I mean, he’s practically ripping up the ground to get this thing moving.” Free smiled as she spoke, not for any particularly fond memory, but because of how cheerful Jerry seemed to be of it. “And Lash, she has this super smug look on her face, like she’d finally won. But that cart creaks and rolls forward ever so slightly. And that smug look just melted right off that bitch’s stupid face.” Jerry said. “And then, and then the best part. The cart squeals real loud, and the bottom just rips right out of it.” Jerry collapsed in a fit of laughter that I knew was coming. “Stupid bitch overloaded the cart and he still moved it,” she croaked through the laughter. Hazel tittered and Sentinel even coughed to hide a chuckle. “Whips yelled at her soooo loud, you could hear it across The Dig!”

“That’s her fondest memory,” I said to Hazel as Jerry struggled to regain composure.

“We don’t have many, do we?” Jerry replied as she got to her hooves. “Gotta cherish the ones we have.” She trotted over and gave me a nudge before continuing down the road.

“The lady has a point,” Hazel said as she gave Shadow a quick peck on the head and then trotted after Jerry. I smiled after them.

“Your bird’s the cheerful sort, I see why ya’ve got a thing fer ‘er,” Sentinel said as he stepped up beside me, a cigarette in his mouth.

“Yeah… wait- what?” I said, caught off guard. Sentinel smirked as he lit the cigarette, wisps of smoke escaping from his ruined cheek with each puff. He chuckled, patted me on the back and then followed after the mares. I stared after him, feeling my cheeks burn. “H-hey! Wait, you… you won’t say anything will you?” I asked, trying to catch up to him.

Footnote: Level Up!
New Perk: Brick Sh!thouse: Rank 2 -- You are the weapon. While wearing heavy armor you do more damage in hoof-to-hoof combat.

New Perk: Mutant Masher -- Something down there changed you. Gained minor increased damage against mutated creatures.

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!

Stable Hunter

Discovered two Stables in the Badlands. Wonder how many more there are

Side Chapter - Blood in the Water

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His frame was battered, bent and marred by the congealed remains of the hooligans he’d been forced to deal with. Security had never shown, and the poor ponies he’d been taking through a tour had run away in fear for their lives. He’d made sure to file an incident report to management, making sure to indicate that if Security had been doing their job, he’d have been able to properly do his. He’d also been putting in requests with maintenance for a long overdue cleaning and repair session, but nopony had come yet. It was as if everypony had simply given up on their jobs. The tour guide turned slowly as invisible alarms alerted him to ponies entering the museum. “I’m terribly sorry,” he called out, “but the museum has closed for the time being. You’ll have to come back another t-”

The robot’s words were lost as bullets ripped into him from all sides. Metal shredded and sparks flew before its smoking chassis dropped to the floor with a clatter. The haze of gunfire drifted through the air, the pungent aroma of gunpowder and smoldering electronics. Zero stepped through the smoke, emerging like the dread spector he was to so many. He glanced down at the robot and then around the atrium. Backbreaker and a dozen other slavers were arrayed around him, awaiting his command.

“Our quarry have been here,” he said flatly. “Pair up. Search the building. Maintain radio contact. Backbreaker, you are with me.” The slavers dispersed, and Zero turned to face the large unicorn as he approached.

“What makes you think they were here?” Backbreaker asked.

“There are signs, if you know where to look and what it is you are looking for,” Zero answered cryptically. Backbreaker sneered and kicked over the remains of the robot.

“Finding a headless corpse isn’t a sign,” he growled. “It was sheer luck that we were able to figure out it was one of ours at all.”

“Oh no? It seemed to point us very clearly in the right direction,” Zero replied coolly as he approached a shut door. He tried the knob, finding it locked. “Besides, this is the nearest building in this direction. It stands to reason that, at some point, our wayward tools have been here. We need only another sign.”

Backbreaker opened his mouth to speak when his radio crackled angrily. “Boss. Ripper and Edge here. We got dead ferals. A lot. Looks like something the stripe would want to know about.”

“We’re on our way,” Backbreaker growled. He glared at Zero and then jabbed a hoof in his direction. “Not a word.”

“It had to be you…” Lash muttered, her head low as she moved down a bone strewn corridor. She dragged her hooves through the tangle of rotted limbs, kicking them out of her way as she moved. “Ten other Minders and I get stuck with your ass.” Chains glared at her back as he followed her, one eye a mosaic of black and blue. “I’d have taken a week old feral corpse over you…”

“It’s your fault,” he croaked, his throat still sore from Zero’s hoof. “You pissed off the zebra!”

Lash’s eye twitched and she whipped around to face the stupid sand-colored stallion.

“My fault!?” she practically shrieked. “I’m not the one who picked a fight. I’m not the one who got lippy and made into a bitch in front of the entire canteen!”

“It shoulda been you!” Chains spat, getting right up in Lash’s face. His breath stank of a mixture of rotten teeth and alcohol.

“What is your problem with me? Huh? What-” she said, shoving him away a step to free herself of the stench, “-is your fucking problem?”

“I’m not the problem here,” he hissed at her as he shoved past her. Lash bit her lip, struggling to keep her anger in check. Why couldn’t Zero have just killed him and spared her this suffering. She angrily kicked at a skull, sending it skittering down the corridor with a hollow thunking noise.

“This is fucking pointless!” Chains spat as he trampled the brittle remains of a foal and its teddy bear. “What’re we doing out here? Couldn’t we just get new slaves?”

“Feel free to voice your concerns to Zero. I’d love to see you get smacked down like a bitch again,” Lash quipped. Chains sneered and he absently rubbed at his throat.

“Nah… just seems… stupid is all,” he muttered.

“It is. But it’s what Fortune wants. Now c’mon,” she said, speeding up and passing him. “The sooner we search this place the sooner we can keep moving.”

And the sooner I can find my favorite slave… she thought.

“I got blood here,” Roughshod called. Stone Cold ambled over, and stared down at the deep brown stain on the floor. Next to it, a cork with teeth marks and an empty healing potion bottle.

“That looks fresh… ish,” he said. Roughshod’s eyes scanned across the floor to the stairwell. The door stood open, the lock twisted and rent. He nodded his head at the door, and kicked his back leg to load his battle saddle.

“C’mon we better check it out,” he said, sounding quite unsure. The blood left a very noticeable trail all the way to the basement before disappearing. The basement lights flickered and sparked, causing shadows to shift and move. The whole place creaked and groaned, as if it was struggling to remain overhead and after a few steps the sickly sweet stench of decay began to grow heavier and more cloying. Stone moved slowly, the barrels of his guns trained ahead of him as he kept his head on a swivel. He didn’t want to be down here, every rational part of his brain was screaming at him to leave. But he kept putting one foot in front of the other and rounded the corner.

At the end of the hall, the doors had been ripped from the walls, and been flung, twisted and bent, several meters away. He could smell the room beyond from here. Bodies. Rotting bodies. Lots of them.

“Go check it out,” Roughshod said, pressing his hoof into Stone’s back. “I’ll cover you.”

Stone shook his head slowly. “Fuck you. You check it out,” he replied, but still he began to creep forward. With each step his stomach threatened to revolt, the stench growing worse and worse. He gagged as he stepped through the twisted frame, struggling between the need to take a breath and the want to not have any of this taste in his mouth. Putrid corpses laid up against either side of the room, rotting into the floor. The room was more or less a large rectangle, save for the sloping pit in the center of the room that angled down to some kind of stone entryway, the center of which was open, leading into deep darkness. Slumped at his feet, up against the edge of the pit was a neatly bisected corpse.

“Ho-lee fuck…” Roughshod muttered as he came up behind Stone Cold. “What the hell happened in here?”

“Bad news all around,” Stone muttered. He reached out a hoof and pointed at one of the grimey corpses. “That looks like our armor. Can’t tell who was wearin’ it though.”

“Cutty’s crew?” Roughshod asked. Stone shrugged. “Shit… We should probably report this to the stripe, right?” Stone opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came. His eyes widened as he stared into the black portal set in ancient stone in the center of the room. The yawning opening seemed infinitely dark, as the flickering lights set into the ceiling did nothing to illuminate the interior. Curious, he kicked a bit of debris toward the opening. It cracked off the angled floor and disappeared into the darkness, clacking and thumping for a few seconds before going silent.

Nothing.

A thought was forming in his head. The thought that the zebra would absolutely want to know about this. He glanced down at his radio and as he glanced back his gaze locked with a pair of faintly glowing eyes, large and unblinking. They peered out of the void and directly into his soul. He backed up a step, grabbing at Roughshod’s armor and pointing wordlessly. “What? What the fuck are....” Stone grasped Roughshod’s face and deliberately turned his head toward the spectral eyes as they winked out of view. “...what the fuck was that?”

“Bad news…” Stone croaked. “Let’s get the fuck gone.”

Roughshod nodded as the duo backed out of the room and then turned and ran. Maybe the stripe didn’t need to know about this.

Backbreaker peered down at the mess at his hooves with disinterest. “Yeah… that’s Bruiser alright. Vain prick loved that armor more than anything. Someone sure did a number on him.”

“A number… He’s got no fucking head!” Lash said, as she sneered down at the pulverized remains of the former slaver’s head. Lash had seen some grisly things in The Dig, but it had always been fresh. Bruiser’s body had been here for days. Rotting. The smell was horrific and Lash took several measured steps back before her constitution failed and she vomited onto the floor, much to Chains’ amusement.

“Yes, quite tragic really,” Zero said flatly as he glanced around the room. “How many ponies were a part of Bruiser’s team?”

“He had a ten slaves and two minders,” Backbreaker answered.

“The stuttering junkie and the living ghoul, yeah?” Chains commented.

“Did we find any trace of the other minders in his team?” Zero asked, ignoring Chains’ comment. The various slavers around him shook their heads. “What about the bookish colt that was assigned to him by Master Fortune? Or any of Cutthroat’s group? Or anything ELSE of note.” Roughshod swallowed hard, but kept his mouth shut. Stone simply pretended he hadn’t heard anything.

“Notes? I thought we was lookin’ for slaves...” sompony muttered. Zero sighed loudly, pressing a hoof between his eyes.

“I am surrounded by idiots…” Zero muttered as he slid his hoof down his face. “What’s the nearest settlement?”

“Rust Rail. The trade hub.” Backbreaker said.

“We will head there next. Gather anything of use here and let us be off,” Zero said as he stepped over Bruiser’s corpse.

“What’s Rust Rail’s stance on us?” Lash asked aloud.

“Depends on if we’re there to spend caps or to try and drag ponies off in chains,” Ripper answered. “Lotta nice weapon shops there.”

“Plenty of eyes that might’ve seen something as well,” Backbreaker said. “C’mon. Everyone back to the rig. If you see something worth a damn, snag it. May as well get some use out of this place.” The slavers began to file out one by one. As Lash went to follow she kicked her hoof through a bundle of moldy packing straw that had spilled like entrails from a smashed crate. There was a sharp clang and she winced, lifting her hoof from the straw and waving it around.

“What the…?” she muttered as she wrapped her magic around a bundle of straw and tossed it aside.

Laying on the cracked cement floor, was a small, silver disc. The edges were shaped like twisting vines and Lash could see her own reflection in its polished surface. She smiled weakly, lifted the mirror with her magic, and tucked it into her saddlebag. It never hurts to grab a little something for yourself, she thought as she hurried after the group.

The rusty cart squeaked and squealed in protest as the trio of armored ponies pushed it down an empty, dead-end alley. At its end, sat a rust red door.

“Hurry up!” one of them, a maroon stallion, barked. “I don’t wanna be here any longer than I have to.”

“Then put your back into it! The damn cart’s nearly rusted solid!” another griped.

The cart inched to a stop just shy of the metal door. A gray mare scooted around the edge of it and up to the door. She lifted a hoof and hesitated, glancing back at her compatriots, both of whom looked around nervously. Swallowing her trepidation, she banged her hoof on the door three times. The view slit slid open and a pair of bloodshot eyes surrounded by glistening, slick muscle stared out at her.

“What’s this? Little raiders come to play? Or come to pray?” the figure behind the door grunted.

“W-we bring your share,” she said nervously, gesturing at the cage. The eyes darted to the cage’s slumbering occupants a moment and then back to the mare who was already backing up. Never blinking.

“Excellent…” the voice croaked as the slit snapped shut. The mare immediately turned tail and ran back to her allies as a series of locks loudly undid themselves. She turned back as the door began to creak open. It swung wide, stopping just short of banging into the bricks it was set in. Those two eyes stared out of the darkness inside. The cart began to groan as dripping red magic gripped the front of it and pulled it slowly into the building. “Tell Gorgon not to forget the deal. I want the same next month,” the hidden figure called as the wagon disappeared through the door, which slammed shut abruptly behind it. The three raiders exhaled slowly and began to leave when the slot snapped open again and the bloodshot eyes peered out. “Oh! Before you go,” the voice called, causing the raiders to turn back slowly. The door opened a crack and a small jar surrounded in that putrid, dripping red magic floated over to the trio. “I heard about Gorgon’s… ironic… injury. Give him these to make him feel better.” The mare nodded and held out her hooves as the magical field popped in a warm, red mist and deposited the jar in them. Floating inside some kind of pink liquid were a mismatched pair of eyes. “They’re from my personal collection. Just, pop them in and all will be… what is it you say? Good as new? Yes, good as new.” The view slit suddenly shut, and the trio could hear the locks being set again. This time, they didn’t wait. They turned tail and ran.

The rig chugged and churned it's way across the landscape, ripping wide gouges into the ground on two pairs of clattering tracks. It was a haphazard metal monstrosity cobbled together from the hulk of a massive pre-war dump truck and the engines and tracks from other heavy load equipment left at The Dig. It had all the comforts of home, if your home was horrifically loud and could cause tetanus with a glance. There was bunk space built into the dump’s bucket, along with small armory, storage and cooking areas and, of course, cages for new ‘tools’ that hung off the back on thick chains. Three of the cages were occupied. They’d caught Daydream trying to blend in in Rust Rail. Snazzy too. He’d been trying to connect with some old trader pals of his and make his way north. Crackers and Baker had been spotted in the wasteland, Baker standing over Cracker’s bloated corpse. Poor little shit had been allergic to Bloatsprite stings. He’d been dead a day or two when we’d found them. Baker hadn’t even put up a fight, just stared at his sister as we locked him up and drove off.

It was mostly quiet as the sky had darkened. Zero sat in the cab, quietly discussing their mission as Backbreaker coaxed the behemoth in the right direction. Most of the others had climbed into their bunks and passed out. Lash laid in her bunk, quietly looking into the mirror she’d found. She stared at her face, thinking quietly as she carefully brushed her hoof against its surface.

“Keep lookin’,” Chains spat from the storage area as he stuffed his saddlebags on a shelf. Lash took a slow deep breath and glanced at Chains as she let it out slowly. “Ya ain’t gonna get any prettier.”

She rolled her eyes, her horn flaring as she telekinetically gripped the latch of the privacy shutter. “Just like you ain’t gettin’ any smarter,” she said with a blank expression as she lowered the door, putting him out of sight and out of mind. She laid back again, looking at the mirror and carefully traced a hoof over the intricate metal-work. This was easily the prettiest thing she’d ever seen, let alone held in her hooves. Her gaze shifted to herself as she took in her reflection once more. She took in her features one at a time. The scar on her chin from when she first used a whip. She’d cried into her father’s coat for a solid hour until the stinging pain subsided. Her freckled cheeks that she’d hated so much when little. She looked into her own eyes and sighed, letting the mirror droop to her chest. Her mouth moved wordlessly as she thought to herself, asking a question as close to aloud as she dared with others so close.

“Where are you?” she breathed.

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. When she opened them again and looked into the mirror, she didn’t see her reflection. She was looking down at the muddy ground. She shook her head, feeling a little disoriented. She tried turning the mirror, but the image remained.

Then he appeared in the frame.

He was wearing armor, but she instantly recognized him. The tousle of brown mane, the scar on his muzzle. Then he saw her. The red-headed one that he was always so excited to see. They trudged through the mud together, following after a third pony that looked like a rotter. And they were… laughing? She clenched her teeth, angry that he had the nerve to be so happy away from her!

“Where is he?” she asked, gripping the mirror so tight she could feel the edges bite into her hooves. “Where is he going?”

The image shimmered and a faint tinny sound could be heard from it.

“C’mon, let’s go home. I could use a rest with a warm blanket.”

“Oh! I like the sound of that! Home.”

“You kids are lucky. Many would love to call Deepwater home.”

“Deepwater…” she breathed, a smile cutting across her face. She slid the mirror under her pillow, opened the shutter and then slipped out of her bunk. She heard Chains’ stupid mouth open and his single braincell doing its best to churn out a coherent sentence but was already banging on the door to the cab before it could come out. “Hey! I know where they’re going!”

The door unlatched and slid open, Zero standing in the doorway. “What is the meaning of this-”

“Deepwater!” she interrupted. “They’re on their way to Deepwater!”

“What the fuck is she ranting about?” Backbreaker shouted, craning around to look back at us.

Zero fixed Lash with a withering glare. “Are you certain?” Lash nodded, but thought it best not to mention the magical mirror. Zero turned slightly, looking at Backbreaker. “We are not far from Deepwater, correct?”

“Yeah. We can be there in a couple of hours,” he said.

“Then let us make haste. Master Fortune is waiting for the return of his tools,” Zero said, as he slid the door shut. Lash smiled to herself and trotted back to her bunk.

“Soon…” she muttered.

Chapter 10 - Fleeting

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“Safe doesn’t last long out here...” - Unknown Survivor

“Holy shit… You’re back. AND you brought back our missing scavengers,” the guard called from the top of the wall. He leaned on the railing and pushed back his ten-gallon hat just a bit. “You lot continue to surprise me.”

“Bastion, you shit!” Hazel shouted angrily while shaking a hoof at him. “Four days! Four fucking days you left us out there! What took so damn long?!”

The guard took off his hat and held it in front of his chest. “I wanted to send someone fer ya Hazel, honest. But we couldn’t spare anyone. We got hit by Gouged Eye a day after you left. Been locked down since.” His speech made, the guard put his hat back on. “An’ not to put too fine a point on it but, well, ‘needs of the many’ and all that.”

“Fuck you! Just open the goddess-damned gate!” Hazel growled with surprising intensity.

“Right right, want I should fetch the Doc ta have a look at ya?” he called as he waved at someone unseen.

“Might ‘elp. This bloke Shadow could use a once over,” Sentinel chimed in.

“Alright, c’mon in then. Hey! Someone fetch the Doc!” Bastion said as he disappeared from view. There was silence for a moment and then the gates jerked and began to grind open. Heavy aperture doors of rusting metal pulled apart on unseen tracks, each slab shifting across the one beneath it as they moved. I was so distracted I only just noticed the green text that had appeared in my field of view as it faded.

‘Fee for Entry: COMPLETED’

Beyond the gate stood a pair of guard posts, their occupants eyeing us carefully as we entered. Beyond them lay a thick tangle of chain link and another wall. Inwardly, I pouted. I was hoping for some grand reveal of the interior with the opening of the gate. But I guess theatrics gave way to utility here. No sooner had I stepped over the tracks than the large gates began to grind closed again. An older stallion in a tattered lab coat trotted up from a security door, a duo of unicorns flanking him.

“We’ll take them from here,” he said in a haughty voice. The two unicorns lifted Shadow from my pack and carried him back through the doors at a quick pace. Hazel waved goodbye and then hurried after her friend with the doctor in tow. One of the guards shut the door again and I heard a heavy latch lock in place.

“Alright then, I assume ya’ll wanna see the mayor now?” Bastion called as he descended a staircase from the parapet.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Jerry said with a smile.

“Excellent, right this way then,” he said, heading between the two guard posts. Two chain link fences flanked us, gradually getting narrower and narrower until it was only just wide enough for me to get through, and even then the edges of my shoulder plates caught every now and then.

“Nice chokepoint,” Sentinel said absently as he followed behind me. “This a recent addition? Wasn’t here last time I was.”

“‘Fraid not, it's been here ‘bout twenty-odd years now,” Bastion called back.

“Shit…” Sentinel hissed. He started muttering under his breath, but I couldn’t make out much; something about time.

“Welcome to Deepwater Gulch, folks,” Bastion said as he stepped through the end of the tunnel and off to one side. Jerry was the first through and I heard her audibly gasp. When I followed her through, I knew why.

The steep sides of the canyon rose up on either side of us, reaching far into the sky. I was almost certain they touched the impenetrable curtain of grey clouds far overhead. The rough, red rock walls were pockmarked with large openings and hollows from which gantries, gangways, and rickety bridges crossed the gap to similar openings on the other side. Looking up, I saw a filly waving eagerly from one of the walkways before her mother urged her to keep up. At our level, the settlers had burrowed into the mountain creating spaces for shops and stalls. A large griffin in matte black armor leaned against the wall next to a door, a scrap sign overhead proclaiming it ‘The Watering Hole’, as a trio of ponies in similar barding to Sentinel’s drunkenly stumbled out and towards the main gate. Next to it was an open-air shop, a counter of carved stone blended seamlessly with the ground and a burly unicorn did his best to sell some goods to a small mare that was eyeing some of the items on display.

“Once you’ve met with Springblossom,” Bastion said, drawing my attention away from the sights and sounds of Deepwater, “we’ll see if we can set you up in one of the communal lodges. ‘Fraid it takes at least a year ‘afore we’ll set ya up with somethin’ private.”

“That shouldn’t be too bad,” Jerry said, peeling her gaze from her surroundings. “We’re used to group living.”

“Good. It’ll be a bit crowded, but you each get a blanket and a pillow. You’ll need to work, but we can discuss that later.” Bastion started moving again. “Come on then. Mayor’s office is past the purifiers.”

“‘Ere, gimme the sled. I’ll sell the salvage and meet you at the Watering ‘Ole when you’re done,” Sentinel said. I nodded and let him magically take the harness. “See ya soon,” he called back as he dragged the cart towards the vendor with the stone counter. I trotted after Jerry and Bastion, catching up quickly as he led us deeper into the canyon. Jerry’s head whipped back and forth as she took in everything she could, a smile on her face. It was nice to see her so excited.

The canyon widened ahead, the rock having been cleared away in a rounded area to make room for several large, rusted monstrosities. I slowed to a stop and looked at the machines. They sputtered and hissed, thick pipes snaking through holes in the ground and up out of the machine towards large cisterns set up in a neat and orderly row. All of them were chugging away with the same rhythmic fashion, save for one that a team of ponies was hurriedly working on. It shrieked and squealed angrily if it made any sound at all.

A sharp whistle from Bastion caused me to wince. “Boys!” he called. Several of the grease coated ponies looked up, taking the moment to catch their breath. Bastion stood aside and gestured at Jerry. “This fine young lady brought us that flange we needed to get this piece of shit working again.”

“Oh!” Jerry said, her ears perking up. She twisted and fished her muzzle into her saddlebags a moment before retrieving a large metal disc and holding it out proudly. Bastion took it with a nod and haphazardly chucked it over to the repair ponies.

“Thank the goddesses! This will get us up and running in no time. Thank you, miss,” one of the workers called before he turned and started barking orders at the others.

“Beautiful,” Bastion said as he trotted past the worker bees. “Thanks again for that flange. Water is our life here. So when one of the purifiers goes out, it causes a bit of a panic.”

“It was our pleasure,” Jerry said with a sincere smile. A moment later she nudged me.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Happy to help,” I said, affixing a smile to my face as well.

Bastion smiled and shook his head. “All right, I think I’ve dragged my hooves long enough. Let’s see the mayor.”

Mayor Springblossom’s office was half carved from the canyon wall and half-built out from it with scavenged wood and metal. It sprouted from the cliff face about four stories in the air, sticking out like some sort of pony-made growth. It creaked ominously with each step, but neither Bastion or the Mayor seemed to pay it any mind. I couldn’t help but imagine the floor giving way beneath me and the fall that would accompany that. Bastion stood beside the Mayor’s desk, as she looked Jerry and me over with an appraising eye. Springblossom was a small white mare with a vibrant yellow mane that curled at the ends.

“Bastion here tells me that you two are to thank for fixing the ‘troublemaker’,” she said with a deceptively authoritative tone for such a small mare. I opened my mouth and then promptly closed it as she continued. “Not only that, but you also found our missing scavengers. Thank you both very much.”

“Scavengers are a bit hard for us to come by,” Bastion added. “Once ponies are granted residence, they don’t much care for leavin’. No matter how important the reason.”

“And I dare say that with recent… issues, Hazel and Shadow might be a bit hesitant as well,” Springblossom said, giving Bastion a decisive look. His ears fell and he looked away. “We’re quite happy to have them back, alive and well.” Jerry and I nodded politely but remained quiet. “So, now comes the usual talk. Bastion says you wanted to discuss permanent residence in my town.” Springblossom leaned forward, putting her elbows on her desk and pressing her hooves together.

“Yes, please,” Jerry said with a smile.

“I’m going to be real honest. I know you’re escaped slaves,” the mayor said. Jerry’s ears flattened almost instantly. “I know you’re from that forsaken pit mine to the west.”

“Then you know why we want someplace safe to live,” I said flatly. “And what we’ve been through.”

Springblossom gave me a pitied look. “This is the Badlands, sweetie. Everypony that wants in here has had hardships.”

“But we did what Bastion said to,” Jerry chimed in.

“You did,” Bastion agreed. “And that’s what got ya into Deepwater. Finding our scavengers got ya the interview. Now it’s a matter of what you can keep offering.”

“I’m afraid he’s right,” Springblossom added. “Every adult resident of Deepwater is obligated to pay a measure of rent.”

“We’re not opposed to working,” Jerry said quickly, taking a half step forward.

“What skill sets do you have?” Bastion asked.

“I’m a scavenger. A good one. Especially good at finding fuel,” Jerry said, almost too quickly. I could tell she was nervous about being dumped back outside the wall.

“What else?”

Jerry’s ears drooped. “I… I’ve never done anything else…”

Springblossom nodded and turned to me. “And what about you?”

Suddenly I felt put on the spot. “I’m strong. Used to physical labor,” I said.

“Mechanically inclined?” she asked.

“I… I don’t know what that means…” I muttered.

“Can you fix things? Machines and the like,” she clarified.

“Well… no…”

“Experience with weapons?”

“You mean guns? No…”

Springblossom smiled sadly. “So you can’t fix things. And you can’t use a gun, so being a guard is out.”

“I can dig,” I said.

“Through solid rock?” Springblossom scoffed. “We’ve got machines that’ll do it in a fraction of the time. Machines you can’t repair if they break down.”

I was beginning to see a trend here. “Then I can scavenge with Jerry,” I offered, feeling suddenly inadequate at everything. “And we can both farm.”

That got Springblossom’s attention. “You can?”

Jerry nodded emphatically. “They made us as foals.”

Her expression soured a bit. “So it's not recent knowledge?” she asked. Jerry and I shared a look and then shook our heads. “Look, I don’t want to tell you that you aren’t able to do something we could use. Scavenging for instance is always needed. But what happens if you get injured. The Wasteland is a dangerous place after all.”

“We can learn!” Jerry said hurriedly, leaning forward and placing her hooves onto the desk. “Please. Give us a shot.”

Springblossom smiled sadly and then looked to Bastion. “Bastion, see what kind of lodging there is in the communal hall.” She looked back to us as Jerry’s ears perked up and a small smile crept across her face. “If you want to wait at The Watering Hole, I’ll have someone deliver your probationary resident cards. You’ll need them to stay in the town.”

“You’re… you’re letting us stay?” Jerry asked.

The mare’s face softened, the hint of hope in Jerry’s voice must’ve hit her like a brick. She slipped out her chair and around her desk to Jerry and gave her a hug. “I’m letting you stay. For now. We’ll see how it works out and go from there. It's all I can promise at this time.”

Jerry threw her forelegs around Springblossom and hugged her tightly. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she cried happy tears for possibly the first time in her life. She peeled away from the mayor and looked at me. “Free! We can stay! We have a home!” She lunged at me and hooked her legs around my neck, hugging me tight. I smiled, feeling my heart soar and hugged her back.

“A home,” I repeated.

The Watering Hole wasn’t what I was expecting. Granted, the only other bar I’d been in had been Violet's, so I didn’t have much of a spectrum to compare it to. The first and most notable difference, it was dark. A couple of poor lamps cast flickering light across a couple of tables and a string of lights hung over a carved rock bar, easily providing the best light in the room. A salvaged piano sat in the corner, and a thin, almost skeletal mare played an upbeat tune that seemed quite out of place given her surroundings. Sentinel wasn’t hard to spot. He sat at the bar and the other patrons were giving the ghoul a wide berth. He’d already ordered himself a drink and three companions for it, all of which were empty. He turned and looked at us as we approached, smiling slowly. “Well, you two look positively happy,” he said. “Good news I take it.”

Jerry smiled excitedly and sat next to the ghoul. “They’re giving us a shot!” she said in a pitch so high it was almost a squeal. She tapped her hooves and bobbed her head side to side, beaming from ear to ear.

“No kidding?” Sentinel said with a half-smile. “Glad we got that worked out. I’ll be leaving soon then.” He turned back to the bar and tapped his hoof on the table. “Gimme one more.”

“You’re leaving?” I asked, moving to sit next to him at the bar.

“Sure. Did my part didn’t I?” he asked as the bartender poured a measure of clear liquid that smelled distressingly like paint thinner into one of Sentinel’s glasses. Sentinel’s magic surrounded the glass and lifted it to his lips where he downed it in a single gulp. “I’ll prolly ‘ead out in the morn,” he said with a non-committal shrug. “Maybe in a day or two. Oh!” he twisted slightly, his magic fishing for something in his bags before he retrieved a jingling sack which he floated over and stuffed into my saddlebags. “There’s the caps for your salvage. Shoulda seen that bloke’s eyes light up.”

“Why are you giving them all to him?” Jerry asked in a mockingly hurt tone as she tapped her hoof on the bar. “One of those please,” she said, gesturing to one of Sentinel’s empty glasses. The bartender gave her a ‘you sure?’ look but poured one anyway.

“Because he can carry’em all, lass,” Sentinel joked as he leaned against the bar and watched as Jerry lifted the glass and sipped the drink. Her eyes instantly bulged and she began to cough and sputter furiously as her face began to turn red. The glass tumbled from her grip and Sentinel caught it with his magic and downed it in a single motion.

“Wh-what the hell is that?” she wheezed.

Sentinel opened his mouth and then closed it. He glanced at the glass and the featureless jug the bartender had poured from. After a moment he shrugged. “No idea,” he said. “But it’ll get you good and drunk.”

“I think breathing near it will accomplish that…” I said, waving a hoof in front of my face.

Sentinel shrugged and downed the drink quickly. “C’mon you two. Time for a little celebration. You got yourselves a place of your own now. A home.”

I glanced back out to the canyon proper as ponies trotted this way and that. Freely. A smile slowly grew on my face. “Yeah. I guess we do, don’t we?”

Sentinel hooked a foreleg over each of our shoulders and pulled us close. I dutifully ignored the missing side of his face as best I could with it being scant inches from me. “That you do! Now! Let’s drink! Maybe something a little easier for you lightweights. Three beers, please,” he called to the bartender. The young stallion nodded and three beers were placed in front of us. We each took up one and, following Sentinel’s lead, held them up.

“To new horizons!” he said.

“New horizons!” Jerry and I repeated and clinked the bottles together.

“-free?”

I stirred just a bit, grasping at the fleeing tendrils of sleep as a voice called to me. For a moment I thought it was Jerry. But only for a moment. It was a voice that was familiar, but I couldn’t recall why. It was fleeting. Half-forgotten. I tensed as a hoof brushed through my mane.

My eyes opened, all pretenses of sleep forgotten. A light breeze blew past, setting the green grass rolling in its wake. I blinked once. Then again. Yet the scene did not change. The hoof brushing through my mane once more surprised me and I practically leapt to my hooves, spinning around and stopping dead in my tracks.

I was staring at the ghost from a memory.

She smiled at me, the corners of her mouth crinkling upwards.

“M-momma?” I croaked, reaching out a hoof.

She smiled and nodded, reaching out with her own hoof until it touched mine. I recoiled, expecting something to happen. Nothing did. She simply lowered her hoof and patted the ground next to her. “Sit with me, sweetie. I haven’t got long.”

I swallowed my apprehension and moved to sit next to her. I felt sheepish, and kept my gaze low, casting the occasional glance her way as if at any moment she might disappear. She looked up at me with a blend of pride and sorrow, and reached up to tousle my mane. “Is this… a dream?” I managed to ask.

“It’s been my dream,” she said, “To see my boy again. All grown up. You’re bigger than I thought you’d be. Just about as big as your father.” I caught her hoof with my own, holding it. She felt solid.

Warm.

Real.

“What’s… what’s going on?” I asked.

“They chose you, Carefree,” she said as if it made sense.

“Wha- who? Who chose me?”

“That’s not important right now,” she said. “You are.”

“I’m nothing. Just a slave,” I said. My momma’s face fell, and she pulled me into a ferocious hug. I resisted for a moment and then fell into the long forgotten familiarity of it. It was something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.

Wanting.

“My poor baby. You are so very important. You just don’t see it yet.” She slowly released me and looked me in the eyes. “There’s something coming, Carefree. It is old. It is dangerous. And it is not alone.” She serene pasture we’d been sitting began to darken as ominous black clouds rumbled overhead.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Powerful,” she whispered. The wind began to pick up, whipping at our manes. “They said go to the museum where they first spoke to you. There you can find out more.”

I shook my head. “But… we worked so hard to get here. So hard to get away from places like that. I just want…”

“Her,” she said with a smile. “The cute little filly with the red mane, right?” I blushed and nodded. “I wish you the best with her sweetie. But you need to go to the museum. I also need you to be strong. Be brave.” She lifted my chin with her hoof and fixed me with a look of grim determination as the sky darkened further still. I wanted to look my mom in the eyes, but as the terrible storm whipped around us I looked anywhere but. I felt like a foal again, and I reached for her, holding her hoof tightly. “Be ready.”

I awoke with a gasp, and shot up in my bed, my heart pounding in my chest. I was greeted with the rough-hewn stone walls of the communal lodge. The space was large, and more than a dozen ponies lay alone or in pairs throughout, sleeping so much more soundly than what I saw at The Dig. Jerry was less than a foot away, snuggled up in the blanket she’d been given. I exhaled slowly, rubbing my face with a hoof. I had been sleeping? But… it was… was so...

Jerry stirred with a yawn, drawing my attention. Her eyes opened a crack and she looked at me blearily. “Did we get’em?”

“Get who?” I asked with a smile.

“The elements,” she murmured, her eyes already drifting closed.

“Not yet. Get some rest, Jerry,” I said quietly.

She nodded weakly, already drifting deeper into sleep. “G’night… Bucket…”

My smile fell just a bit and I leaned over to adjust Jerry’s blanket. I shunted the feelings of hurt to the back of my mind and slipped out of my bed. I needed some air.

The communal living space was several levels up and accessible only by the creaking gantries that had been bolted and suspended in place. I stepped out onto the platform, and leaned on the railing. Three stories below the purifiers puttered and clunked. Even at this late hour there was a team of ponies walking slow circles around them, occasionally stopping to check something I couldn’t begin to understand. I watched them silently, enjoying the cool night air and just… trying to make sense of things.

It had been many years since I’d dreamt of my mother. In recent memory… I barely dreamt at all. Exhausted slumber wasn’t very good for dreaming. As I was mulling over the dream, I heard the door creak open behind me, and the sound of hoofsteps approaching.

“Free?” I smiled, recognizing Jerry’s groggy voice instantly. “What’re you doing out here?” she muttered as she walked over to stand beside me.

“Clearing my head,” I said as I looked down at her, “I had… a confusing dream… I didn’t wake you did I?”

She shook her head slowly. “A dream?” she asked, rubbing her eye, “What about?”

“That’s… not important. Let’s go back to sleep, Jerr,” I said, gently nudging her back to the lodge. She nodded, too tired to argue and we trotted back inside. Whatever that dream was about, it was just that. And I had a more important dream to follow here.

I woke a few hours later, having drifted off to sleep again after heading back inside. I got to my hooves and stretched, feeling my back pop and my sleep stiffened muscles begin to loosen. Jerry was also beginning to stir. Judging by the snoozing and snoring ponies throughout the room, we were the odd ones out.

“Mornin’,” I said quietly to Jerry.

She smiled at me sleepily. “Morning, Free.” She glanced around, noticing just as I had, that we were the only ones awake. “I guess The Dig kept early hours…” she mused.

“C’mon. Let’s go see what we can find to eat,” I said as I trotted to the door. We made our way down the creaking gantries slowly as we took the narrow pathways toward ground level. The lower we got, the more the town seemed to be coming to life. A new team of ponies was coming in to relieve the ponies I’d seen working on the purifiers during the night. Important information was passed on, as well as a few comments or jokes as the ponies traded places. The night shift crew trotted towards the small market district. I nudged Jerry and pointed after them. Surely they’d know a place where a body could get a warm meal.

Following the workponies led us to a cafeteria that seemed more for the guards and maintenance ponies than for the average ponies working there, but for a few caps they were happy to serve us all the same. A large bowl of piping hot stew and a cup of cool water were given over to us and we found a table to sit and eat. We both thoroughly enjoyed the freedom in that small act. Once our meals were finished we sat in relative silence.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?” Jerry asked quietly.

“About what?”

“About your… dream. It must’ve been something bad if it woke you in the middle of the night…”

I smiled. “Not bad… just…” My voice trailed off. It wasn’t a bad dream. But it was certainly… something.

“You can talk to me about it you know,” she said, tracing her hoof in a small circle on the worn tabletop. “You always let me whine to you about mine…”

“I know. It… It was my momma,” I said. Jerry looked up at me, her eyes just a little wide. “It was so real. I could swear it was like she was right there.”

“Did she say anything?”

I hesitated. “She… she said that I need to go back to the museum…”

“Psssh, fuck that,” Jerry said. “We nearly died getting out of there, and she wants us to go back? Why?”

“She said I was chosen…”

“By who?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Well… now what?” Jerry asked.

“Now I put you to work,” Bastion said as he trotted up to our table. Jerry and I both jumped, not realizing how tense our conversation had made us. He set a steaming mug down on the table and took a seat. “Morning. I see you managed to find our best-kept secret here in Deepwater,” he said with a smile. He sipped at his drink and gave each of us an appraising look. “How was your first night?”

“It was nice,” Jerry said cheerfully. “Much better than we are accustomed to.”

“Good. We try our best to keep the wasteland beyond the wall.” He stared down into his mug. “Life’s already hard enough. That said, I got some scavenging work that needs doing, and… well… My go-to’s are currently on the mend.”

“You’re sending us out?” I asked. Bastion nodded. “There’s no tests or tricks this time, right?”

Bastion chuckled. “Nah. That’s only for outsiders. Ya’ll are like family now. Distant relatives, but still family.”

“What is it we need to find?” Jerry asked.

Bastion settled in and pulled a list from his saddlebags. “We heard tell that there’s a big building to the west,” he began. I tensed. “Huge. Got part of a sign still hanging on it,” An image flashed into my head as a huge, rust streaked building popped into my head.

“...the museum…” I muttered. Bastion quieted and looked to me. As did Jerry. I looked to each of them in turn. “We know the place. It’s the Badlands Archeology Museum.”

“You been there?” Bastion asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“What do we need from it?” Jerry asked.

Bastion shrugged. “Not really sure. Mayor said to have you two go check it out. I guess bring back anything useful.” As he spoke, green text appeared in my field of vision once more. ‘Two Steps Forward…’

Great.

Just… great…

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!
Deepwater Settler
Gained citizenship in Deepwater Gulch.

Chapter 11 - Glimpses of the Past

View Online

“I’m not sure what this is, or who exactly made it. But I can tell you this. It’s old. How old? It predates everything else we have in the building.” - Dr. Softbrush about the Badlands Tablet

The rest of the briefing was a bit of a blur. Jerry and Bastion discussed details, but it was all wordless mumbling to my ears. I was stunned into silence. It seems that one way or another, we had to head back to the museum. Just as my mother had said. Trying to put together what exactly was happening was consuming all of my focus. So much so that I only absently noticed Bastion and Jerry stand and make to leave.

I followed after them, my head in a cloud of confusion and… hope? Confusion that it all appeared real. And hope that it was. Hope that I’d actually talked to my mom; that she still existed somewhere. Hope that it wasn’t just some sort of freak coincidence. Hope that-

“FREE!”

I jerked suddenly, bracing myself for an impact and then slowly relaxed as I saw both Jerry and Bastion looking at me. We’d left the cafeteria and now stood not too terribly far from the main gate into Deepwater.

“Ya’lright son?” he asked, giving me a concerned look.

“You were a million miles away, Free,” Jerry said, looking equally concerned.

“Sorry,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Just…thinking. Is there any reason we couldn’t bring Sentinel along?” I asked Bastion.

“The ghoul? Don’t see why not. ‘Fraid you’ll have to pay him out of your own pocket. We don’t typically spring for bodyguards,” he said. I nodded. That shouldn’t be an issue. We haven’t spent our caps on pretty much anything.

Jerry peeled her gaze from me, turning back to Bastion and offered him a warm smile. “We’ll get ready to head out. Just gonna pick up some supplies first.”

“That’s great. When you’re ready to head out, talk to one of my guards. Try and get everything on the list and stay safe out there,” Bastion said as he trotted off to see to his own duties.

Jerry waved politely until Bastion was gone and then turned back to me, all concern. “What’s wrong? You weren’t really here for any of that conversation.”

“It’s just… it’s odd, right?” I asked. “I’m telling you about my dream and then… boom. This happens. Sending us just where my dream said to go?”

Jerry smirked. “You’re not wrong. But maybe we heard someone mention it yesterday and just forgot. We were kind of conditioned to tune out a lot of things.”

She had a point. The Dig was a horrible place of suffering; a place where you had no control. You learned very quickly to tune out the horrors around you and bury yourself in your work so you didn’t join them. Doc had said it was a... ‘coping mechanism’ - a way to deal with things beyond your control. “That makes sense…” I said after a moment. “C’mon. Let’s see if we can find Sentinel.” I turned and started for The Watering Hole, the last place I’d seen our slightly rotted friend.

“Why do we want him to tag along?” Jerry asked. “He’s… well… kind of a jerk.”

“Protection. I swing around a piece of concrete and metal and you’ve never shot a gun before this week. We’re not really ready for wandering the wasteland alone.” I reached out a hoof and pushed open the door, allowing Jerry to walk in first. The interior was just as dark as it had been the other day, only now the only occupants were the bartender and a single unicorn ghoul. They were chatting like old friends as we approached.

“...look all I’m sayin’ is, if anything, the world is simpler now,” Sentinel said with a clarity that surprised me given that he’d spent the entire night in a bar. “Horrible. But simpler.” The bartender smiled and nodded, and then pointed at us as we approached. Sentinel twisted in his seat and gave us a half smile. “Hullo love birds. How was your first night in your new home?”

“Best rest I’ve ever had,” I said. “What about you? You been drinking all night?”

“Nah. Stopped after you crazy kids went to bed.” He lifted a bottle of water with his magic and gave it a shake. “Just been taking in some needed rads and chatting with my new friend.” He gestured at the bartender.

“You didn’t sleep?” Jerry asked.

Sentinel shook his head. “Ghouls don’t need sleep.”

“Well, ponies do. So, if you will excuse me,” the bartender chimed in as he disappeared through a small door behind the bar. Sentinel waved after him and then turned to me and Jerry.

“Guess I’ll be ‘eadin’ out then. Maybe go back to Vi’s,” he said as he dropped a small sack of caps behind the bar and then slipped off the stool and onto his hooves.

“Actually, we’d like to hire you again,” I said quickly.

Sentinel stopped and glanced between the two of us. “What’s the matter? Leaving already?”

“Yes and no,” Jerry started. “We’re the newest scavengers. With the other two on the mend, they need us to go out.”

“And neither of us are particularly good at being wastelanders,” I continued. “So we’d like your continued aid. If you’re willing.”

Sentinel chuckled to himself. “Alright. Where we going?”

I smiled. “What do you know about archeology?”

Sentinel’s eyes widened and he pointed a hoof at me. “No,” he said flatly, turning his back on us.

Jerry and I stared in stunned silence for a moment before she was able to shake herself out of it. “What? What do you mean ‘no’?” she blurted out.

“I’ve ‘eard of that place. Big building. Scary lookin’ as all fuck. Crawling with fuckin’ ferals. Ain’t goin’ there.”

“...you literally just followed me into a Stable and fought through dozens of… plant… things,” I said, struggling to wrap my head around what was happening here.

“Yeah. This is different,”

“How is this any different?”

Sentinel spun around and glared at me with his white eyes. “Kid, what am I?” he asked.

“Um…” I said, drawing it out to buy myself a moment to think. “Angry?”

“Drunk?” Jerry offered.

“I’m a fuckin’ ghoul, mate,” he said tersely. “Do you know what that means?” I fixed him with another blank stare. Relenting, he rolled his eyes. “I’ve been ‘alive’ for a long, long time,” he said, making quotation marks with his hooves. “Since the bombs fell, I’ve been rotting. Slowly. From the inside out.” He turned his head to the left, giving me a clear view of the missing right portion of his face. “Soon enough, there won’t be a Sentinel any more. There’ll be another mindless, frothing feral.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “All them ferals… they used to be ponies.” He looked up again and pointed his hoof at me. “To you,” he said and then pointed at Jerry, “and you, and every other smoothskin, they’re the past. But for me? And every other ghoul? They’re the future.”

“I… I didn’t know,” I muttered, my ears flattening against my skull.

“NO! Of course you didn't know. You couldn't tell a raider from a Sunday parishioner until they started shooting your ears off! Dragging me all around the wasteland getting me into goddesses only know what and stirring up things that shouldn't be.” He paused and then sighed. “Yeah… s’alright… You’re right. The two of you aren’t ready to go traipsing around alone. I’ll… I’ll go…” he said after a moment’s pause.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Fuck no. But a job’s a job.”

It had taken us the better part of a couple of days to make it back to the museum. As the sky began to dim, we spied the huge building on the horizon. A cold dread welled up in the pit of my stomach but I did my level best to ignore it.

We stood in the entrance, peering into the dark interior. The museum was hauntingly quiet. Perhaps the two-century-old struggling systems had finally been put to rest. It was silent. Like a tomb.

“I don’t like this. None of it. Ya don’t go explorin’ pre-war ruins in the dark o’ night. Not even armed and armored like we are,” Sentinel muttered as we stepped through the entry hall towards the reception desk. He panned his machine gun back and forth, glaring into the darkness.

“We’re not exploring it. We’ve been here before,” Jerry muttered as she stepped closer to my side.

“This is where we escaped from Fortune’s Slavers,” I added. The building was different at night. There was a presence about it.

Ominous.

Scary.

Dead.

Each step seemed to echo through the quiet interior, sounding far too loud for my liking. Then, a careless step sent several things jingling across the tiled floor. I glanced down, carefully brushing a hoof across the scattered casings that littered it.

“Those’re new…” Jerry muttered as she retrieved her pistol from its holster.

“Keep your eyes and ears open. This place was crawling with ferals last time,” I warned as I trod through the spent brass. Behind the front desk was the tour guide, or what was left of it. Somepony had definitely been here.

Sentinel stepped over to the robot and fished something out of its innards, pocketing it without a word. “What are we looking for? Because I say we find it and get out A-S-A-fucking-P.”

“Bastion just said ‘anything useful’,” I muttered. “Apparently it was the mayor’s idea to send us out this way. Even the list we have is vague. Medical supplies. Parts. Entertainment.”

“Beautiful. I just fished somethin’ useful outta this ‘ere clunker. We can leave now, right?” Sentinel asked. Jerry and I gave him flat looks and he sighed. “Too much to ‘ope for.” His horn flickered and flared into life, casting a glow around us as two thin sticks levitated from his bag and over to each of us. They bent and shook in his magic, and a weak green glow began to emanate from them. “Put these on. Don’t take them off.” He ordered as he retrieved one for himself and hooked it on his saddlebag.

Jerry tapped a hoof at the small light and made a face. “What’s it for?” she asked around her pistol.

“So I don’t shoot you by mistake,” Sentinel said. Jerry looked at me and I offered her a smile. She sighed and nodded.

“Alright,” Jerry sighed, “where do we start?”

“I don’t get it…” I muttered as we carefully moved down the corridor.

“Get what?” Sentinel asked, aiming his weapon at each dark shadow we passed.

“This place was crawling with ferals just a few days ago. Now…” I let my words trail off.

We stepped into an intersection, Sentinel’s gun lowered just a bit and he turned to glare at me. “You jinx us and I swear I-”

“No, he’s right. It’s weird. If there were ferals here, they’d have come running at us from all sides,” Jerry added with a shudder.

The barrel of his rifle dipped slightly, and Sentinel’s ears flicked this way and that, listening. “I don’t hear anythin’ either. Everythin’ about this rubs me the wrong way.”

“There’s no way that Bruiser, Fricassee, and Stitch got all the ferals. We weren’t here that long,” I muttered as we continued down the darkened halls. I shrugged my shoulders under my armor, thankful to have it. Its weight was a reassurance that whatever we might encounter, at least I had some protection from it.

“I dunno what a museum might have that could be useful to Deepwater…” Sentinel muttered. “We’d have been better off going back to that Stable.”

“Yeah… weird…” I muttered, fleeting images of my mother flashing into my mind. I glanced at Jerry and saw her glancing right back. She was thinking the same thing. “Should we split up?”

Jerry sucked on her bottom lip and looked to Sentinel. “I mean… I don’t want to… but it WOULD make everything go faster…” The two of us looked at Sentinel.

“Right… fine,” Sentinel said in clipped tones. “But keep your glow stick on ya at all times.” Two more levitated out of his bag and deposited themselves into ours. “They last a couple of hours. But here’s another just in case. First sign of trouble you start screamin’ and runnin’ and you don’t stop til you get outside, clear?” The two of us nodded emphatically and Sentinel, seemingly pleased, trotted straight ahead and further down the corridor.

“I was expecting a fight…” I muttered to Jerry.

“Me too,” she replied. She turned to face me and opened her mouth wordlessly, something clearly on her mind. After a long moment, she sighed and hugged me. “Be careful, Free,” she said and trotted down to the right.

I stood in silence for a moment until the echoing hoofsteps and the glow from the sticks fading into nothing. “Okay…” I muttered, looking around. “You got me here… now what?” I waited, half dreading that I might get an answer. A minute passed and I relaxed. “Right… that would’ve been weird.”

Without further pause, I trotted down the last remaining hallway. I passed glass sealed alcoves containing various things. Old, dust-covered wall plaques next to each probably contained information about what they were or what they represented. None of it was familiar, telling me that I hadn’t ventured down this hallway last time I was here. Or if I had, I was too distracted by running for my life. The small displays gave way to larger, more elaborate set pieces. I stopped, looking at moldy mannequins arranged around a fake campfire, all of them made green by my glowstick.

The hallway widened into a large hall ahead, packed with more displays of life in the past. I walked through it slowly, piecing together a picture of life in ancient Equestrian history. I stopped in front of a large stone slab. I squinted, trying to make out details in the weak chemical glow of the glow stick. After a moment I relented and turned on my pipbuck lamp. The green light washed over the tablet and I took a step back to take it all in. “Weird…” I muttered, raising a hoof to brush it along to stone. A small speaker and a button rested on a pole next to it. Curious, I reached out and tapped the button. The speaker crackled loudly before it resolved itself into a normal mare’s voice.

“...and carved from a single piece. The tablet was discovered embedded in the bedrock near the foot of the Coltarado Plateau, the origin of the marble however appears to be Zebrican in origin.” The slab was huge and carved with an ornate and flowing script that resembled squiggles or random markings as far as I was aware. It was punctuated occasionally with carvings that depicted… the goddesses? Winged unicorns looking up towards the sky and stars raining down on them from above. And inside each star was another thing. A pot. Some coins. One even contained a foal. “While the text is indecipherable the images appear to convey a story. Our team is currently split, with half the researchers believing it to be some sort of catastrophic meteor shower, claiming various things from the ponies of the past. Hence their inclusion in the meteors in the sky. The others believe it to be some sort of symbolic work of art, the true meaning lost to us. I myself have a different notion. I theorize it’s something of a religious text. The remnants of large eyes just visible at the top of the tablet...” In the pale, green glow of the pipbuck, I could just make out what looked like large eyes disappearing off the broken top edge of the slab, “...would likely denote some sort of higher power looking down upon its creations. Or, conversely, it could be a depiction of… volent...ty...” The speaker degraded to a squeal of static and then fell silent. I stood there for a long moment, taking in the scene before shaking myself back to reality. I was here for a reason and it would do me no good to get distracted. I clicked off my pipbuck lamp, stepped away, and tensed. I wasn’t alone anymore. I heard the shuffling hoofsteps long before I heard the gurgling growls. My ears flicked this way and that.

One...

Two…

Six…

Shit.

I bolted straight for the nearest door. Immediately a chorus of sibilant hisses, inarticulate growls and the clamor of hooves followed. I swear I could hear the gnashing of teeth just behind me as I scrambled around the corner, skidding across the worn flooring and nearly slamming into the wall in an effort not to slow down. My hooves fought for purchase before the first ghoul hit me. I slammed into the wall, putting a significant dent into the drywall as cracked and bleeding hooves ripped at my armor.

“Get off!” I grunted through clenched teeth as I righted myself. I needed to move. If this thing slowed me down too much the others would swarm me and no amount of armor could protect me from that for long. As if to make my point, the ghoul succeeded in dislodging a piece of my shoulder plate, sending it skittering across the floor. “Hey! That’s brand new!” I shouted as I veered into the opposite wall, slamming the ghoul into it with all my weight. Drywall crumbled and collapsed as I tried to scrape the ghoul off my armor. The tough little bastard held on while simultaneously trying its level best to rip into my flesh. Behind me, the grunts and growls of the other ghouls were hot in pursuit. I was never very fast, but I was even slower when dragging a thrashing, flesh-eating ghoul.

I slammed into the wall again, ripping a long gouge out of the wall until, finally, the ghoul caught a support and tore free. Freed of the excess weight I sped up as much as I could, which wasn’t much. I needed a plan, and quick. Up ahead, a ruddy stain on the floor caught my eye.

Is that… mine?

A ghoul threw itself into my flank, nearly knocking me to the floor. Time for thinking over! I sprinted for the ruddy stain and took a hard right through a door with a blasted out lock. I nearly fell down the first flight of stairs, barely managing to catch myself on the landing and start down the second flight as the ghouls burst through the door behind me. They tumbled over one another, a tangle of rotted limbs and sloughing flesh. I risked a glance back as I descended. There were at least a dozen, all fighting with one another for the opportunity to kill me.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I shouted as I shouldered open the bottom door. A wave of stench washed over me, and I gagged, nearly tumbling from my hooves. This was definitely it. Where Bruiser had shot me and left me for dead. It was also, as I began to recall, a dead end. With no time to stop or find an alternate route, I barrelled for the room where Dig Deep had been. The doors has been ripped from the frame and lay partially in the hall. There would be no sealing myself in and locking them. I came to a stop just at the edge of the dig site.

A stone entryway lay half-buried in the dirt, a yawning black void leading to Goddesses only knew what in the center of it. Across from the opening, slumped against the edge of the pit, was the body of a brown pony. I was suddenly acutely aware of my surroundings, and despite myself, gagged and vomited onto the rotting corpse below me. I took a deep breath and then was hit from behind as the ghouls at finally caught up. I tumbled into the pit, thankfully missing the putrid corpse as I tangled with a different one.

My luck finally ran out as the ghoul lunged forward, its broken teeth sinking into the flesh of my cheek. I screamed as it shook its head violently, ripping free the prize it had sought. Blood spilled down my neck and beneath my armor as I pushed it clear and crawled towards the opening. I had to get away! I had to regroup!

Teeth closed around my ankle and dragged me back as a second and third ghoul joined the fray. I twisted, kicking wildly as my adrenaline surged. The muzzle caved in on the first ghoul. I dearly hope it choked on me! I raised my free hind leg and smashed it into the nose of the one holding my ankle as hard as I could. I regretted it instantly as its broken teeth punched through the leather and into my flesh before the bones broke and the ghoul released me as it staggered away trailing brackish fluid. I twisted and pushed myself back to my hooves but a third ghoul was ready. It leapt onto my back and I threw my head to one side as fouled teeth snapped shut where my ear had been just a moment before. The opening was just a few feet away, if I could just-

A pair of luminous blue eyes flashed into life in the entryway accompanied by the sound of grinding stone. I stared into them, feeling my heart stall in my chest. Then teeth snapped closed again, this time on the back of my neck. I screamed as the ghoul on my back shook its head violently, trying to tear free a piece of me. Terrifying eyes or no, I lunged forward, turning my momentum into a dive and pitched myself into the dark opening. I landed and began to roll, the ghoul and I tumbling end over end as the ground sloped away beneath us. The ghoul ripped free and we both shrieked as we tumbled into darkness.

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!
Unearthed
Discovered the ziggurat hidden beneath the Badlands Archeology Museum.

Chapter 12: Treachery (UNEDITED)

View Online

“Ain’t nothin’ worse than thinkin’ yer safe and learnin’ ya ain’t the hard way.” - Old Wastelander Proverb

My eyelids felt heavy, almost weighted to the point of being a struggle to open them. It was so dark that it took me some time to notice that I had actually succeeded in opening them. I started to turn my head to look around, but a spike of crystal agony shattered inside me. I stifled a scream, and went still. I laid there for as long as I could, sucked in a few breaths and then tried again. Pain ripped through me as I rolled over, but this time I was ready for it. I pushed through, gritting my teeth so hard I briefly worried they might crack, and rewarded myself for a job well done by lowering my forehead to the dirt.

“O-okay… just… fuck…” I gasped. I blindly reached backwards, feeling inside my saddlebag for one of my remaining potions, when something inside me popped.

I woke up again some time later, slumped back into the dirt. I must’ve blacked out. My leg was still in my saddlebag. I carefully resumed the search, choking out a laugh when I found a potion and worked it free. I scraped it across the floor towards my mouth. With some doing, I managed to get the stopper free and greedily sucked down the contents, choking on the syrupy potion.

The pain began to ebb, something inside me slithered back into place, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I laid still for several minutes until I felt confident I could move without hurting myself worse and slowly pushed myself up. I put my hoof in something wet and pulpy and slipped, landing face first in it. I sat up like a shot and spat thick, coppery paste from my mouth. I fumbled with my pipbuck, and a green light clicked on, bathing me in its glow.

I found the ghoul I’d been tangling with. I’d apparently landed on it during our fall. The inside of its skull spilled out across the jagged ground like a spilled plate of gruel. Jellied, putrid brains dripped off my chin and I hurriedly wiped my face before I added to the grossness with my own vomit. I raised my pipbuck and glanced up. The ceiling was two feet overhead and I could see the passage I’d tumbled through, but not much further than that from the meager light my pipbuck had to offer. I absently wiped at my face again, a chunk of goddess’s-only-knew-what peeling from my lip, and continued to look around.

I was in some sort of cavern. The rough, slate walls disappearing into the darkness outside my lamp after a few feet in either direction. “Sentinel? Jerry?” I dared to whisper. I listened intently, my ears flicking this way and that. But all I heard was the odd drip and the ominous yawning silence. It was worth a shot, even if it was almost impossible, I rationalized. I held up the lamp and peered into the darkness. Neither direction seemed to yield better results. I took a couple of tentative steps and then turned and proceeded down the opposite direction. I walked in relative silence, broken only by the occasional skittering stone and the soft clinking of my armor.

“Just great Free,” I muttered barely above a whisper. “Fell through a door and somehow got yourself lost in a cave below a museum…” I stopped as the rocky, uneven ground sloped steeply. I planted my hooves firmly and peered into the darkness. “Yeah… no, fuck that…” I muttered, turning around.

Then I stopped and glanced back.

“Hello?” I called, my ears angled towards the slope. A faint, whispering tickled them, beckoning me. I stared into the darkness for a minute and with a sigh I stepped off the ledge. The slope was steep, but not impossible to control. I slid down awkwardly, stumbling when the rough natural stone gave way to carved stone blocks. The cave became a corridor, with large stone bricks forming a nice, even passage.

“Hello?” I called again. The strange whispers seemed to answer me. Voices half forgotten bidding me deeper and deeper. Up ahead the corridor curved, and a faint orange glow peaked out of the gathered darkness, pulsating in sync with the beat of my heart.

“Yes… I hear you…” a voice called. “Please… come closer…” The voice sounded weak and pleading. It reminded me of a slave that had been injured in an accident, and the way she pleaded to not die alone as her blood pooled beneath her. The voice tugged at my heartstrings and I moved slowly in the direction of the glow. It grew warmer and brighter as I approached, almost as if sensing my trepidation and seeked to calm my nerves. The ethereal whispers grew louder as well. For a brief moment I heard a stallion’s voice, familiar and yet unknown at the same time, calmly calling my name. Then it was drowned out by the unceasing whispers, each vying to be heard over the last.

“Who’s out there? Are you hurt?” I called out, seeking to silence the ghostly whispering even if only for a moment.

“Oh yes… I hurt… I have hurt for so long…” the voice replied, sounding as though on the verge of tears.

The bend was just in front of me now, the glow warm and inviting. Taking a deep breath I stepped around the curve, coming nose to nose with a stallion. I jumped back a step, but the stallion didn’t move. Couldn’t move. The statue was old and detailed like I’d never seen. The long spire of a horn rose from its head and two marvelously detailed wings from its back. Its twin, on the opposite side of the tunnel, lay in shattered ruins, a large stone slab having toppled on top of it. The orange glow came from behind the statues, spilling from the space the fallen slab had once occupied.

“Are… are you in there?” I called out.

“Yes, little one. You’re so close now…” the voice responded. I took a deep breath and stepped over the crushed statuary and through the opening. The chamber beyond was remarkable, and I found myself unable to properly appreciate its grandeur. Stone that didn’t seem cut or chiseled, but simply poured into twisting and elegant designs. Ornate images of two gigantic alicorns adorned the walls and a flowing indecipherable script was etched beneath each. At the room’s center was a dais, extruded from the solid ground just like the walls seemed to be. And perched atop it was a large, glowing stone the color of honey. Save for that, the room was empty. The whispers had stopped, and the room was eerily silent.

“Um… hello?” I called, more than a little unnerved by everything so far.

“That voice… I remember you…” My ears flattened and I swallowed the building fear as I looked around. The light of my pipbuck was not the strongest, and it didn’t do much of anything to light the enormous room. I fished the spare glow stick from my bag, gave it a crack and a shake, and tossed it over by the door. At least if I had to I’d know which direction to run away screaming in.

“Is somepony there?” I called again.

“I am right here little one,” the voice responded again. I turned in a slow circle, peering out toward the edges of the room, having expected one of the alicorns on the wall to peel free and reveal itself.

“Wh-where are you?” I called, maybe a little louder than was necessary.

“Right here,” the voice said again. I spun around, my eyes darting around, searching for the owner of the voice. Left, right, up and down yielded nothing and no one.

“I don’t… there’s no one here…” I said as I trotted around the circular room. The voice chuckled, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. A resonating, mirthless laugh.

“What are you? Deceit? Of course there is. There is you, the little gray one. And me.”

Once again my eyes fell on the honey colored stone, and for the briefest of moments I swore I could see eyes glaring at me from within. I approached slowly, my head cocked to the side slightly.

“Are you… the stone?” I asked, knowing how crazy it sounded. The inside of the stone swirled and the eyes appeared again, bloodshot and decidedly mad. They darted this way and that before speaking, as if afraid someone else might hear.

“No! Don’t be ridiculous!” the voice said, the eyes finally falling upon me. “I am IN the stone.”

“Oh,” I said, looking up into the eyes. “Uhm… my name is Free. What’s yours?”

The eyes retreated briefly, and gave me a strange look. “Name? I have no name. I simply am,” the eyes said.

Now it was my turn to offer up a strange look. “Okay then… What are you?” I asked.

“Me? I am Treachery,” the voice said, eyes crinkling in the corners as though they were settled over a smiling face. I know I wore a look of confusion, but continued the line of questioning.

“Okay,” I said, dragging out the latter half of the word. “Treachery it is. What is this place?” The eyes glanced around conspiratorially.

“The Maker’s Prison…” Treachery whispered. “Well… my prison at least.”

I glanced around, and then back the way he’d come.

“There aren’t any bars. What keeps you here?” I asked as I walked slowly around the stone. Treachery loosed a throaty laugh, the sound of barely contained madness.

“No bars? Ha! You know nothing little thing. The Makers are always watching.” The eyes narrowed and glanced around as though speaking of them might make them appear. “They still watch, even after all this time.”

“H-how long have you been in here?” I asked.

Treachery was quiet for a long time. “Forever,” it finally said, the eyes rolling theatrically, “But enough about me! Instead I have a question for you, Free. What did you do with your wings?”

My brow furrowed and I sat down on the floor, looking at the gemstone curiously. “What… what do you mean?” I asked.

The swirling ether in the stone formed two flapping, bird-like wings on either side of the eyes. “You know. Your wings.” As I watched a horn formed from the flowing energy and deposited itself just above the eyes. “And your horn for that matter. Why are you incomplete?”

“Incom- I never had wings. Or a horn.” I said with a shake of my head. “I’m an earth pony.”

The ethereal appendages vanished, leaving only the eyes, which looked somewhat bewildered. “Never… had…” The eyes narrowed and seemed to press against the interior of the stone. Each one was as large as me. “So it is true! The favored children fell from grace!” The eyes retreated as Treachery began to speak in nonsensical circles, slipping into a strange lyrical language. Suddenly the eyes widened and the muttering cut off like a switch was thrown. Treachery’s eyes focused on me with severe intensity. “I remember you!”

“Y-yeah… you said that…” I said, getting to my hooves and backing up a step. “But you didn’t say how.”

The eyes narrowed, seemingly boring into me. “My memory is fuzzy. You are half-remembered. Viewed through my Treacherous. But… You are the irksome one! Yes yes! The one I’d thought perished,” The eyes loomed over me. I nodded slowly, and I backed up a step. Suddenly Treachery’s eyes widened and seemed to press against the crystal. “Where are you going?” it asked with an urgency.

“Um… I have friends that I need to meet back up with,” I said, offering a forced smile and jabbing a hoof over my shoulder. “Can’t keep them waiting you know.”

“But… but you’ve only just arrived!” it said quickly, glancing around the room. “I… please. It has been so long since I’ve had a proper conversation. The Guardians, they don’t speak. And my Treacherous, they are me. I am them. I am TIRED of talking to myself!”

I paused. This… Treachery, was clearly crazy.

And a gemstone.

I shook my head and chalked it up to some kind of magic. And magic was something I didn’t bother trying to figure out. Still though, the hint of desperation in its voice gave me pause. “What did you do to wind up imprisoned?” I asked.

The eyes retreated, and glanced around. “I existed…”

“You were imprisoned for… that doesn’t make any sense…”

“I existed. The Makers did not like that and locked me away. Locked us away,” Treachery muttered.

“Us?” I asked.

“But you! You are a little broken thing!” it said, suddenly, its voice almost manic as it stared down at me. “No wings. No horn. A mere shell of what you once were.”

“But… I’ve always been an earth pony,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder and then up at my forehead, trying to imagine a horn there. The eyes crinkled and half-crazed laughter dribbled from the stone. It set my teeth on edge. “Well, I really should be going. Gotta find m-”

“Friends!” Treachery half shouted, the eyes looming large, almost pressed against the outside of the stone and looking at me in… fear? “We’re friends? Yes?”

For the love of the Goddesses and everything you have ever held dear you will say no! My mind screamed. SAY NO!

“Uhh… I guess so?” I said with a half smile as my mental self bashed its head into a wall.

The eyes blinked for a moment, and then crinkled over an unseen smile. “Yes! Friends! We are friends!” it said proudly. “Before you go! I want to give my friend a gift!”

“A gift? What kind of gift?” I asked.

“Oh, the best kind!” Treachery said, its eyes darting side to side furtively. “Come closer! And press your hoof against the stone.”

“And then what?” I asked, lifting my hoof off the ground tentatively.

“Press stone, receive a gift!” Treachery said with a giggle. It set off so many red flags in my brain. But still I lifted my hoof.

“O...kay…” I muttered, reaching out to touch the stone. “But then I really need to-”

Crackling orange energy arced across the stone and through my body. My muscles tensed and my hoof felt glued to the stone’s surface. Treachery’s crazed laughter seemed to echo through the chamber and as the energy coursed through my veins, my eyes rolled back into my head. “Oh… I know, I know it hurts. But I promise you, friend, this will help you,” Treachery cooed. “Use it wisely.” And then I blacked out.

I jerked awake, sitting up like a shot until an intense pressure in my skull drove me back down with a groan. It felt an awful lot like my brain was trying to force itself out through my eyes. “Oh what fresh hell is this?” I muttered, pressing a hoof to my forehead. I rolled onto my side, and then over completely, standing slowly on shaking legs. I craned my head around as my brain struggled to reboot and looked blearily around me. Moldy wooden desks, the heavy stench of mildew and dust and not a strange honey-colored stone in sight. I was back in the museum. I looked at my hoof. Other than a lingering tingling sensation, I felt no different. A quick scan of my pipbuck’s status page told me about the same thing.

“What was the point?” I muttered, as I stepped to the door and reached out to open it. I paused, and then glanced back at the desk and cabinets behind me. Couldn’t hurt… I took a few minutes and rifled through everything. In the end I came out with a modest haul. A few more blue orbs, some coins from before the war, a couple of spark batteries, and bullets that, once again, seemed terribly out of place in a desk drawer, let alone a museum. With a shrug I tucked it all away in my pack. Satisfied that I’d looked everywhere I could, I decided I should try to make my way back to the lobby. I was ready to be done with this whole place.

It was much easier making my way back to the lobby. The sun was beginning to rise and light was beginning to shine through broken windows and ceiling. As I trotted into the lobby, two heads lifted from behind the reception desk. “Goddesses, Free! Where have you been?” Jerry shouted from across the lobby as I strolled in. She and Sentinel had made a small camp behind the circular reception desk, having pushed the tour guide’s remains aside and… was that a fire pit? Jerry scrambled over the desk and galloped over, throwing her hooves around me tightly. I froze, briefly unsure if I should return the hug, but Jerry quickly composed herself and pulled away, and the moment was lost.

“Sorry. I got lost. This place is… well, it sucks... “ I muttered.

“Got that right…” Sentinel grumbled. “Practically swarmin’ wif ferals too, innit?” He looked up, seeming tired of all things. “Can we go now? I’d like to never come back ‘ere as quick as I can.”

I nodded and then glanced at Jerry, who appeared to be studying me intently. “What?”

‘Sweet Celestia, Free. You are a mess,” she said with an unintentional chuckle as she walked in a slow circle around me. “You look like you’ve been through hell. You’re missing a shoulder pad. Your armor is… dented and scraped… You’re missing your club too.”

My eyes widened at that last bit and I turned. Sure enough, Liberator was gone. The hooks that had once held it in place were bent all out of shape. One even looked like it had been snapped off. “Great…” I breathed. “I’m very done with this place. Did you two at least find something to make this nightmare worth it?”

“Not to justify coming all this way…” Jerry muttered with a shake of her head.

“Fuck no,” came Sentinel’s terse response.

“Well third times not the charm it seems. Let’s get going."

We were on our way a few minutes later, having consolidated all the salvage into one of my packs. Ever the pack mule I guess. We trudged our way back the way we’d come as thunder rumbled overhead. We hadn’t been out of the museum for more than an hour before a steady rain began to fall, and seconds later the three of us were soaked through. Sentinel didn’t seem to pay it much mind, but Jerry and I were soon shivering as the cold sapped our strength. Sentinel muttered something about ‘kids these days’ but said nothing more. We managed to trundle along, but after two hours with the rain trying its best to scour us off the face of Equestria, we were a wreck. Unlike last time, there was no charging station or abandoned shack to take refuge in. Not even a big rock. Just an endless sea of mud and half dead plants somehow clinging to something resembling life.

“Has the weather always been this bad here?” Jerry called over the rain, her hood pulled up over her head and drawn tight so that only her eyes were visible.

Sentinel laughed mirthlessly. “Fuck no. Badlands used to be a desert,” he said with a shake of his head. “Then the pegasi pulled the curtain. Fucked up the weather all around Equestria. Rains more now than ever before.”

I glanced up at the thick grey cloud cover and the pouring rain, my eyes squinted to protect them from falling droplets.

Pegasi.

A ghost of a memory flickered through my mind. Staring up at the night’s sky. Talking with momma about winged ponies saving us one day. I frowned a bit as the memory turned bitter. The silly dreams of a foal.

"You ever seen them?" I asked.

"See who?" Sentinel asked over the rain. "The Enclave?"

"If that means the Pegasi, then yeah. Them," I said with a shrug.

Sentinel shook his head. "Nah. They don't care none for us ground pounders. Too busy with their floating cities and 'oggin' all the sun to give two 'alves of a fuck 'bout us."

"They're that bad?" Jerry asked, joining the conversation.

"Not bad," Sentinel said, "just separated. They can't see us, so we ain't on their minds. You wanna talk bad though, you look to the north. Some bloke's got 'imself a broadcaster. Settin' 'imself up like some sorta savior." Sentinel stopped and spat, looking back towards Jerry and I as we caught up. "Charismatic as fuck, that one. Him, ya watch out for."

"Because he's charismatic?" Jerry asked.

"Because it's the charismatic ones that can convince ponies to do terrible things while thinkin' it's fine and dandy." Sentinel grew quiet after that. Either he was letting his words sink in or they had accidentally dredged up some long buried memories. Either way, I let it go. I focused more on putting one hoof in front of the other. I was cold, hungry, and completely soaked. But there would be time enough to rest later. We continued on through the rain, before finally calling it a night in the rusting skeleton of a wagon stop with just enough of a roof remaining to be considered shelter. Jerry and I curled up next to the collapsed bench, a light snoring coming from her almost immediately. Sentinel silently took up watch, using the meager cover to pull a cigarette from his pack and light it. Wisps of smoke escaped his ruined cheek.

“Thanks Sentinel,” I said. He didn’t say anything, but nodded slightly in acknowledgement. Then, I too fell asleep.

“Wakey wakey,” Sentinel said, pressing his hoof into my side with a casual insistency. My eyes fluttered open, and I looked up at Sentinel. A light rain pinged off the rusted metal dome overhead. During the night it must’ve downgraded from torrent to drizzle. “You were mumblin’ in your sleep.”

“Was I?” I asked, rubbing at my eye with my foreleg. Jerry stirred next to me, waking up as well, and I felt my face color. “W-what did I say?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sentinel said with a shrug. “Sounded like gibberish to me. Almost like you was singin’.”

“Thank the goddesses…” I muttered, breathing a sigh of relief that I hadn’t confessed my love in my sleep. I spared Jerry a glance as she stretched out her forelegs and yawned. I’ll tell her when we get back. We’re free now. We have someplace to live. No reason to wait anymore.

“Mornin’...” Jerry muttered.

“Mornin’,” Sentinel and I replied, all discussion about my sleep talking dropped. We dipped into our bags and retrieved a couple of faded canned goods for breakfast. Sentinel made jokes about the food being older than him, but it was actually rather tasty, and we ate it with gusto. Judging from Sentinel’s odd stare, he didn’t feel the same way. But he patiently waited while we ate, and when we were done, we started out again.

“Sentinel?” Jerry asked after a bit.

“Yeah?” he called back, nothing looking back.

“Do you eat?”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh,” she said, letting the subject die.

The light pattering of sprinkles and our slogging steps through the mud were the only sounds for a time. The silence allowed me the opportunity to think. Just what sort of crazy had I stumbled on in the museum? A strange talking stone? What’s more, a strange talking stone that spoke cryptically about things I couldn’t begin to understand! The whole venture had been a bust! We’d left with barely anything of worth. It was almost as if…

...as if you were supposed to wind up there...

“Where you goin’ big guy?”

I jerked to a stop and looked up. Jerry and Sentinel stood a few feet to my right, having made a turn along the way. And I had been so deep in thought that I hadn’t even noticed. “Sorry… lost in my own head,” I said as I jogged over to them. “Again.”

“That normal?” Sentinel asked Jerry out of the side of his mouth.

“Yup,” she said with a nod and a smirk. “He’s been doing that for as long as I’ve known him.”

“I don’t zone out that much,” I muttered, my ears drooping.

“At least three times this week,” Jerry said matter-of-factly.

“Okay… so maybe I’ve been zoning out a bit more lately. Gimme a break, I’ve never had this much freedom to think before. My little brain is trying hard to process all the things,” I muttered. Jerry fixed me with a deadpan look from under her hood that bordered on a scowl. Slowly her veneer cracked, she snorted and then laughed. Her nose wrinkling as she dissolved into a giggle fit. Even Sentinel let out an uncharacteristic chuckle.

“What a goof ball,” Jerry said with a smile. A smile that seemed to brighten the dreary day.

“That’s me!” I said, smiling at her.

...now kiss…

I shook my head and trotted forward, the chill of the rain forgotten. “C’mon, let’s go home. I could use a rest with a warm blanket.”

Impossibly, Jerry’s smile brightened and she nodded. “Oh! I like the sound of that! Home.”

“You kids are lucky. Many would love to call Deepwater home,” Sentinel chimed in.

“You could always ask to stay,” Jerry said cheerfully. “I’m sure your experience would make you an excellent guard.”

Sentinel chuckled sullenly. “Yeah, for a spell, maybe.” A hush fell over us, leaving us with our thoughts and the gentle churning of the rain. We weren’t far from Deepwater now. We weren’t far from home.

The rain had stopped. For now, at least. Once again we ate our ancient breakfast, and then set out. Far in the distance across the shifting hills of sand, presently mud, we could see the mountains as they stabbed upwards toward the cloud curtain. I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

Home.

Jerry and I hummed a wordless tune, only somewhat in harmony with one another. It was nice, though probably terribly annoying to Sentinel. Still, he made no move to stop us and we continued our discordant tune until Deepwater was within sight.

“Home at last,” I said, standing on a small rise of wet dirt.

A short while later we had checked in with the door guards on duty and were greeted by Bastion as we made our way through the chainlink checkpoint. “Good to see you back in one piece,” Bastion said cheerfully. He paused, giving me a quick once over. “Err… more or less. What happened to you big guy?”

“Don’t ask,” I grumbled, twisting to grab my saddlebag and pass it over to him. “Here’s all we could find. ‘Fraid it isn’t much,” I said around a mouthful of leather.

Bastion’s horn flared to life and he took the saddlebags. “Yeah, I figured as much. Sorry, the mayor was insistent you check it out. Like a mare possessed.”

I nodded absently as Bastion took the bag and trotted off. “I’m gonna need that back, Bastion!” I called after him. He made a non-commital grunt and I sighed, finally allowing myself to relax. It had been a rough couple of days. And there was a pervasive sense of wrong that niggled at the back of my skull.

“C’mon,” Jerry said, nudging my shoulder and pulled my focus. “Let’s get something to eat. Something smells good.”

“You kids have fun, I hear a pint callin’ to me,” Sentinel said as he trotted off towards the bar as Jerry hooked a leg around mine and pulled me in the opposite direction toward the canteen. The closer we got, the more I could smell something cooking, and the more my mouth watered. We weren’t the only ones, as line had formed and the general murmur of ponies talking filled the canteen with life as the line shifted forward.

“Wish the rain would stop… Guard duty in the rain sucks. Full belly or not.”

“Ugh, right? And the way your coat manages to get tangled in the armor is awful.”

“Did you hear? Shadow’s laid up in the Doc’s office. Recovering from some sort of fungal infection.”

“Oh damn, we should bring him some food. I’m sure Doc won’t mind.”

“Hey! Don’t give out my portion!”

It was much more… lively, than at The Dig. Ponies were afraid to talk, here, it was a constant din of several groups all having separate conversations. And it was… nice. The noise was a comfort, oddly enough. Ponies here seemed… happy. And if not happy, then at least not terrified. They were truly living their lives. I glanced at Jerry, who craned her head to peer around the line, and wondered if she thought the same. The line shifted again. And Again. Then it was Jerry’s turn. The older mare behind the counter smiled. “What can I get you, sweetie?”

“I… I have a choice?” she squeaked. The older mare nodded and Jerry smiled wide, peering quickly at the options. “Uh… can I get some of that please?” she asked, pointing at a tray of… something. The mare spooned up a healthy dishful and levitated it out to Jerry.

“There you go, dear. Piping hot mutfruit casserole. You a new resident or a guest?” she asked.

“We’re a new scavenging team,” she said, cheerfully gesturing to me. I waved back.

“Great! Welcome aboard! I’m Dollop. This is my cafeteria. I look forward to seeing you around,” she said. “That’s five caps for the meal, dear.” Jerry twisted and retrieved five caps from her bag and then, bowl balanced on her head, she stepped aside, waiting for me.

“I’d like the same, please,” I said.

Dollop looked me up and down and then a larger bowl levitated out from under the counter. “You’re a big’un. Gonna need a bigger portion to keep you going.” she said as she filled the bowl with the strange purple paste. “Ten caps.” I paid her and then moved to stand next to Jerry.

“There’s a seat over there,” Jerry said with a slight nod of her head that threatened to topple her bowl off her head. We took our seats and then looked at the food. It was a slightly browned paste that was purple in the middle.

“Do you know what mutfruit is?” I asked her.

“No clue, but it smells amazing,” she said as she tucked into her meal. Immediately her ears perked up and she looked up at me with smears of purple on her lips. “It TASTES amazing too.”

Smiling, I took my first bite. A semi-sweet paste that had a slightly lingering taste of cheese and… something else, washed over me. She was right. It did taste amazing. I was suddenly happy I’d been given a bigger bowl, and I ate with a little more vigor. I was so engrossed in my meal, I didn’t notice somepony had come up behind me until their hoof clapped me on the back.

“Boy’s got an appetite don’t he?”

Jerry looked up, her jaw fell open, and her eyes widened. I looked up from my meal, the casserole sticking to my chin and turned. All at once my meal soured, and I felt as though I was going to vomit. An orange maned stallion with matted, greasy fur stood behind me; a twisted, yellow grin on his face. I hadn’t recognized his voice but now, looking at him, it came flooding back.

“Chains…” I breathed.

The slaver dropped himself down onto the bench next to me and hooked his foreleg across my shoulders to pull me close. “Aww, lookit you two. All cozy in the Gulch,” he hissed, looking between Jerry and I. Jerry’s eyes were wide, and she stared at the table in shocked silence. Chains glanced down at my bowl, and reached out to dab his hoof into the contents. “What is this shit?” he asked, giving it a sniff.

“What are you doing here?” I croaked, lifting a hoof to wipe at my mouth.

“Ain’t it obvious?” he said, giving me a shake and wiping his hoof off on my armor. “Why, we came to bring two of our missing tools back to The Dig.”

“We?” I asked.

“There you are, slave.” My pulse quickened and I could feel a chill run down the length of my spine. I twisted, looking over my shoulder. Striding down the aisle were Zero, Lash and three other slavers I didn’t recognize. Zero fixed me with an impassive stare, almost like he was bored. “You have made many problems for Master Fortune, and he has tasked me to exact reimbursement from your flesh and blood.”

My heart thundered in my chest, and it took everything I had to not turn tail and run. “How…?” I asked, unsure of what question I was going to ask. How did you find us? How did you get here? How do we get rid of you?

“The guards were real nice. All we had to do was give them our weapons while we’re visiting,” Lash said as she stepped past Zero and closer to me, a predatory look in her eyes. “As long as we’re civil, they don’t really care where the caps come from.”

“Civil… meaning you can’t drag us out of here,” Jerry said hesitantly. Lash grit her teeth and growled at the words.

“No,” Zero said, “but we own you. We will ensure that you are returned to Master Fortune.”

I took a slow, calming breath and shrugged Chains’ leg off of me. “No.”

Zero’s head turned my way, his normally calm demeanor marred by a raised brow. “Excuse me?”

“I said no. We’re done with The Dig. And you can’t take us without provoking the guards. So just leave,” I said flatly. Then Zero’s calm veneer cracked momentarily, and all I saw beneath was barely contained rage. All the slavers seemed to sense it too, as they took a collective step back or became suddenly engrossed in whatever else they could.

Just as quickly as it broke, Zero’s mask of calm returned and he let out a slow breath. “Soon enough you will come to regret that remark, slave,” he said. He turned and trotted away, followed by the other slavers. Chains and Lash lingered a moment longer.

“See ya real soon, fucko,” Chains said, pushing down on my shoulder to stand and he trotted after the others, leaving just Jerry, Lash and I.

“It’s only going to get worse the longer you drag this out,” Lash said. She was… oddly quiet for her.

I turned to face her, giving her an odd look. “I’ll take that chance, Lash,” I said. She lingered a moment longer, her jaw working as she mulled over saying something, and then turned and galloped after the others.

I exhaled slowly and turned back to Jerry. “Fuck…”

Chapter 13 - Branching Paths (UNEDITED)

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“Sometimes, you’re walkin’ fine but try as you might to stay the true, when you look ahind ya there’s all these twists and turns as like you don’t remember.” - Sentinel

“We are fucked! Well and truly fucked!” Jerry shouted as we trotted into the communal lodge we called home. She immediately dropped herself onto her bed, buried her face into her pillow and let loose a muffled scream. The other residents looked our way, their confusion clear on their faces. I smiled apologetically and sat next to her until her scream faded to a hoarse groan. When she had finally calmed down, she tilted her head to one side, fixing me with a single eye. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“About what?” I asked. Jerry pushed herself up, her confused look morphing into an angry glare.

“About the fact that Lash and fucking Zero are here! To take us back!” she said, emphasizing her words.

“They can’t take us out of here,” I said. “Bastion and the other guards won’t let that happen.”

“Well, what do you think will happen when they try to send us out on our next scavenging mission? How far do you think we’ll make it?” Jerry asked, her voice a growl. I didn’t have an answer to that. While the slavers couldn’t drag us kicking and screaming from Deepwater, nothing said they couldn’t grab us just outside the main gate. Deepwater might have caps to spare, but they didn’t have enough mercs to police the entire Badlands. They also didn’t have any reason to.

“Alright… then they can’t see us leave,” I said. “C’mon.” I stood and started out the door. It took Jerry a moment to process before she scrambled to her hooves and followed after.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she came up beside me.

“We’re leaving,” I said as I stepped out onto a creaking set of stairs and made my way towards ground level.

“Yeah, I get that part. It’s the not getting enslaved bit that I’m focused on,” she said snidely.

“Hey!” I called out, lifting a hoof and waving. Below, one of Bastion’s guards stopped and looked around. “Up here!” The guard’s head craned up and fixed on us as we descended.

“Yeah, what?” he called back.

“There another way out of Deepwater other than the front gate?”

The guard gave me a worried and confused look before looking over his shoulder. “Not… really… The back is sealed up. Didn’t want any Shamblers getting in from the Hellfire Swamp…”

“Shamblers?” Jerry repeated.

“But there is a way?” I urged, ignoring whatever the hell a shambles was.

"I… guess…" he said with a shrug.

"Great! Can you escort us?" I asked, practically jumping down the last few steps to land near him. The guard chewed his bottom lip and then glanced around.

"I'm not really suppo-" he started

"Fifty caps," I interrupted. The guard blinked.

"I-" he started. "It’s about security. We can't open the gates."

"Fine. One hundred caps. Lock the door behind us, we won't be coming back that way."

"Free!" Jerry shouted.

"Deal," the guard said, turning in place and marching with determination. "C'mon, keep up."

I moved to follow when Jerry's hoof hooked my leg and turned me to face her. "What are you doing?"

"Getting us out of here," I said flatly.

"You're going off half-cocked! We don’t have supplies, or any idea where we're going," she said, trying her best to hold me in place. But as I began to move, she hesitantly followed.

"We are putting distance between us and Zero," I said, quickening my pace to a trot to catch up to our guard.

"By going through something called the HELLFIRE Swamp? Does that seem better?" She was half screaming now, and several eyes looked our way. It felt like being in Rust Rail again. "Shouldn't we at least get Sentinel?"

I blew a raspberry at that. "Sentinel hates us. He'd probably turn us down after last time anyway. We'll just have to make our own way."

Jerry sputtered inarticulately, but said nothing more. She followed in silence as the guard led us through narrow walkways and across swinging gantries. Deepwater was a lot bigger than I'd thought. We passed several shops and above more than a hoofful of ponies crossed creaking bridges and chatted on overlooks. The guard stopped at a checkpoint, and exchanged a few quiet words with the guard on duty. A heavy ring of keys levitated to the door and a surprisingly heavy lock cracked as it was opened. The hinges squealed in protest, clearly this door wasn't used often. The guard held open the door and gestured inside.

"Straight through here. Close each door securely behind you before opening the next. Once you get to the swamp stick to the moving water and away from calm pools. And ignore any screaming," he said.

"Screaming?" Jerry asked.

"Caps. Now," he said, holding out his hoof expectantly.

"Hold up, what do you mean 'ignore any screaming'?" Jerry repeated as I fished a small sack of caps out of my bag and dropped it in the guard's hoof.

"Thanks," I said, stepping through the gate.

"Dammit Free, can we ask one goddess-damned question?" she screamed as she followed. I heard the gate shut behind us, and the lock being secured. Jerry continued to berate me, but I tuned it out and eventually she gave up. It took twenty minutes to reach the next gate, and it was even rustier than the first. I wrenched it open, the bottom of the gate scraping across the uneven floor. Beyond it was a thick warren of flakboards, rusted metal plating and chain link fencing that only roughly formed some semblance of structure. The further in we went, the darker it got, and ahead I could hear the dripping of water on stone. Stepping through, I held the door open and raised my hoof, switching on my Pip-Buck lamp. Green light bathed the interior space and Jerry gingerly stepped through with me.

"What is wrong with you? You’re acting like a stallion possessed!” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“We’re putting distance between us and the slavers,” I said, pushing the gate closed and making sure the latch was engaged. “I won’t let them take you again.”

Jerry’s hoof pressed into my shoulder, and I stopped. “You’re going too fast. Just… take a minute. Breathe. You’re not thinking things through, you’re just barreling ahead.”

I looked down at her hoof and took a slow, deliberate breath. “I’m not a smart pony. Thinking is not what I’m good at. Let’s put some space between us and Lash, and then we’ll stop and plan.” I said, carefully brushing her hoof aside and stepping past her.

I took several steps before stopping and looking back at Jerry. She stood at the furthest edge of the light, pain in her eyes. After a moment she shook herself visibly, and trotted forward. “Fine,” she said flatly.

The reinforced corridor ended in a heavy door with several old road signs haphazardly bolted to it, most of them saying Stop. I pulled the latch and shoved my whole body weight against it, my hooves scrabbling along the sandstone for purchase as the door groaned open. The sickly half-light that filtered through the clouds was again partially obstructed by a thick canopy of leaves, gnarled branches and tangled vines. The buzzing of insects and the melodic cry of some kind of bird reached my ears as the noxious stench of stagnant water and wet rot flooded my nostrils. My stomach lurched as thoughts of Stable 116 and the plant-ponies washed over me. I suddenly felt very vulnerable without my weapon, literal piece of garbage though it was.

“Ugh… it reeks!” Jerry whined, covering her nose. I couldn’t argue, mostly because if I opened my mouth to do so I was almost positive my breakfast would come spilling out. Instead I turned and forced the door closed. “Well… where do we go from here?” Jerry asked, her voice muffled by her sleeve.

“For now?” I said, proud that I hadn’t puked. “We cross the swamp.”

“How far is that?” she asked.

“Uhh…”

“You don’t know do you…”

“Nope.”

“Goddess-dammit, Free,” Jerry muttered.

“We’ll figure it out!” I said defensively, taking a step. My hoof sank into the morass and I pitched forward into the mud catching a face full. I pushed myself free, sputtering brown-green chunks from my lips.

Jerry snorted, and then gingerly stepped onto a gnarled tree root, staying well above the mud. “Well, that makes me feel a little better,” she snorted.

I ran my tongue across my teeth, winced and then spat out a globule of putrid muck. I would never un-taste that. “Glad I could help…” I muttered, slogging through the chest deep mud and hauling myself up onto the high ground with her. It was slow going, each step was careful and oftentimes I slipped on slimy moss, only just catching myself before falling into the swamp. The angry buzzing of insects and the odd, undecipherable noise rose in volume the deeper we got. The pools of brackish water rippled and bubbled, and occasionally hissed as Jerry and I stepped a little too close to something’s home.

“Really wish you had let me ask what a Shambler was…” Jerry breathed as she stepped over a branch that had grown across the one we were walking on.

“Are you still worried about that?” I asked.

“YES! Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, for one, I’m pretty sure we’ll recognize one when we see one,” I said, wiping a foreleg across my brow. I felt the mud smear across my forehead and sighed. Jerry stopped and smirked at me.

“And the next thing?”

“For two, you have a gun,” I said, pointing at her holster. Jerry looked down and then backed up sheepishly.

“I… I forgot…”

I rolled my eyes at that, and managed to catch an oddly square shape through the trees. I turned and craned my head this way and that before nodding at it. “You see that?” I asked.

Jerry followed my line of sight, and squinted. “Looks like a building?” I stared at it through the trees a moment longer, and then glanced at Jerry. Immediately her brow fell to a scowl. “You wanna check it out, don’t you?” she asked. I nodded. “Fine. Just… be careful. Seriously.”

Smiling, I climbed onto a moss-coated branch that grew in the direction of the building. It was smaller than the others, so I pulled myself along on my belly, my legs wrapped around it for safety. My armor scraped the moss off in thick sheets as I scooted across the branch. The water below me splashed as a large piece plopped into it, disappearing into the murk. I continued forward several more feet before a second chunk fell free and splashed down. I stopped, taking a moment to brush my foreleg across my brow. I glanced down, looking at the water beneath me nervously. A trio of yellow eyes peered up at me from beneath the murky surface before disappearing as they sank deeper. “Jerry?” I called, quietly.

“Yeah?” she called back.

“Don’t look down…” Then, following my own advice I continued to pull myself forward, eyes locked onto the building. I pushed through a hanging branch and caught sight of a collection of mossy homes. They sat on stilts, with partially collapsed walkways between them. It was some sort of neighborhood if I had to guess.

The branch I was crossing disappeared through a partially collapsed roof and out a far window before blossoming into several smaller branches and sprouting sickly green leaves. I peered down at the floorboards, trying to judge their strength at a glance. As carefully as I could, I lowered myself down, listening to the boards creak in protest. After a moment, I relaxed and looked back to Jerry, who looked at me expectantly.

“I think it’s safe enough,” I said, waving for her to join me.

With considerably more grace, Jerry descended the branch and dropped down beside me, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I like swamps,” she said. The room we were in was a bedroom once. The collapsed ceiling had fallen upon a bed and over the years rotted into one pile of moss-coated peat. The rest of the furniture was in a similar state from getting rained on for who knows how long. Jerry and I trotted through the open door into the next room, finding it marginally better off.

A thin coating of moss creeped up the walls and the whole place smelled only a little less odorous than outside. The place was eerie. The photos on the wall seemed to degrade from the faces of the pictured ponies outward and the whole building seemed to creak and groan with each step. “Wonder what happened to the ponies that lived here…” I muttered, lifting a hoof to nudge the corner of one of the faded photos. Instead of straightening, it toppled off the wall and clattered off the floor, causing the two of us to wince at the sudden noise. I looked over at Jerry, who glared at me. “Sorry.”

Jerry let out a sigh and looked at me sadly. “Free? Do… do you think we made a mistake leaving?”

“No,” I said flatly. “Not even for a second."

“But… we don’t know how to do anything but be slaves,” she said.

“But that’s not what we are,” I said, moving to stand in front of her. “That’s what they wanted us to be.”

“I just… will we have to leave every place we start to call home?” she asked quietly.

“No,” I said, slipping over to her side. “We will find someplace to call home. I promise.”

Jerry looked up at me with wet eyes. And I kissed her. Our lips touched, the world slipped away, and for just a moment this was the only place in the world. We lingered there for a moment, and then she pulled away, pressing a hoof against my chest gently. “We should… we should see if there’s anything useful here,” she muttered, looking away.

“Yeah…” I agreed.

I’d done it. After years of should I, shouldn’t I… I’d kissed her. It was enough for now. I shook myself out of a daze of feelings and set to focusing on my surroundings. Most everything was damp and mossy… and would be largely useless for anything like surviving. Jerry must’ve thought the same as she started rifling through drawers and cabinets. Twenty minutes later we had some large bullets neither of us recognized, a few caps and a couple of cans of food that didn’t look too bad. We sat near the front door, looking at our meager findings.

“It's not much, but at least we got some more food,” Jerry said as she began to transfer things into her pack.

“We could check the other houses, see what they have?” I offered. Jerry nodded her head and opened her mouth.

“P-please…”

The two of us froze at the sudden voice. It was raspy and weak. Jerry and I whipped our heads towards the window, there were slow, plodding footsteps on the deck outside, and a silhouette moved across the window. It was pony shaped, but the head hung backwards, like they were looking up.

“H-hello? P-please...” the figure continued, moving past the window and towards the door. Jerry scooted closer, partially hiding behind me.

“What the fuck is that?” she breathed. I shook my head, staring blankly at the wall as I followed the sound of the thing’s footsteps as it awkwardly made its way to the door. “Can it get in? Should we run?”

“Get out your gun…” I breathed. Jerry nodded and her head whipped down to the pistol holster. She brought it back up, eyes locked on the door.

“I… I need… help…” it said, a hollow scraping noise coming from the door.

BANG!

I winced, my ears ringing at Jerry’s sudden shot. A single hole was punched through the door, a weak stream of light beaming through. I whipped my head to her and she glanced up at me, her cheeks flushed. “Shorry…” she said around the pistol. We looked back to the door as another, heavy step sounded, and something blocked the light.

“G-G-Goddesses…”

The door to the house began to buckle, as something slammed into it. Over and over, harder and harder. Jerry’s pistol barked again, another hole blossomed in the door and a pained screech rose up to meet it.

“Shoot it! Shoot!” I screamed. Jerry’s pistol barked again and again, opening several more holes in the door. Whatever was out there shrieked loudly, and backed away, light filtering through the holes in the door. There was an odd warbling noise that rose in pitch, followed by a loud pop and something red and wet splashed against the window. Then silence fell over us. We stared at the door and then at the window, neither of us daring to move.

“What the fuck was that?” I breathed. Jerry said nothing, her eyes wide and fixed on the door. I reached out and put my hoof on her shoulder. She jumped and looked at me, the gun aimed at my chest. “Let’s go back the way we came. Maybe we can see whatever that was from the roof.” Jerry looked back at the door, and nodded, tucking her pistol away.

“Y-yeah. Sounds good… I just wanna get out of here,” she said, turning and trotting quickly back the way we’d come.

We rearranged some furniture and climbed back out onto the roof. I moved slowly and carefully across it, until I could peer out at the front. There, laying on the deck, was a pony. Or rather, what was left of it. It laid on its back, withered limbs contorted and its head lolling to one side. Its entire belly had burst, surrounding it in a pool of red sludge. Red sludge that was writhing. Small, black worms whipped wildly in the spreading pool, many slipping between the aged wooden planks and plopping into the water below.

“I… think I figured out what a Shambler is…” Jerry said next to me. I looked at her to agree, but she was looking elsewhere. I followed her gaze, and saw them. Three ponies in the shredded remains of Gouged Eye raider barding milled about the various catwalks. They hobbled forward on crooked legs, their stomachs so massively distended that they moved forward on their hind legs. One was so bloated, she was actually bent backwards, her limbs contorted to awkwardly move about. Their mouths moved wordlessly as they… well, shambled around. As I watched, one of them stopped, and the head jerked this way and that.

“S-somepony… help…” it croaked, before it resumed its odd, jerking movements.

“Nope. Nope nope nope,” Jerry said as she turned and climbed onto the branch. “I’m so not doing this!” she said, as she moved quickly across the branch back the way we’d come.

“Yeah… I’m with you there,” I said, scrambling up onto the branch and following right after her.

It was getting dark. The already dim light had faded to near blackness under the canopy of leaves overhead as night came to the Hellscape Swamp. As the darkness had crept our way, Jerry and I had managed to find a tangled knot of branches that formed a small bowl. Confident neither of us would accidentally roll out of it and into the swamp below, we had decided that would be a good place to stop. Jerry wiped her brow and settled down, fidgeting until she managed to find a reasonably comfy position. “Free?” she asked, her voice husky with sleep. “Did we do the right thing?” she asked, laying her head down.

I settled in beside her with a sigh. “You mean coming through the swamp?”

“I mean… leaving The Dig…” she breathed. “It was horrible… but at least we were... “ her voice trailed off, unable to even complete the thought.

“No. We’ll be better off, Jerry. You’ll see,” I said. “Now get some sleep.” Jerry nodded and after a moment, she began to snore softly. If I was honest with myself, I wasn’t sure we did the right thing. I just knew that it had to be better than what we had. I opened my mouth wide and yawned as the day’s weariness seeped in and I let the comfort of sleep take me. I felt myself sink into the tangled branches beneath me and drift into the comfort of the void. I took a slow, deep breath and-

“FREEDOM!”

My eyes shot open and I scrambled to my hooves at the sudden intrusive voice in my own thoughts. A colt bolted into me, smashing into my shins excitedly and wrapping his forelegs around mine in a tight hug. I glanced down and the small pink colt looked up at me, all smiles. A shock of messy, vibrant green mane hung over its face, and a disturbingly familiar pair of eyes looked up at me. Eyes I’d previously seen in a crystal beneath the museum.

“Wh-... Treachery… How… What are you doing here?” I practically shouted.

The colt released its hold on my legs and bounced in circles around me. “I’m being free! I’m free WITH Free! Oh and it is glorious!” he squeeked. “The world is SO much more different than I remember! But then I was locked away for so very long! I wanna see it all! I wanna eat all the foods! I wanna-”

I reached out, hooking a leg around the bouncing colt, cutting off his inane rambling and pulling him in front of me. “Would you shut up!” I hissed, turning as I spoke. “You’re gonna wa-” I froze,staring at myself and Jerry, curled up and asleep. I blinked slowly and then looked at the tiny colt. “Hey! Wait! How did you get here?”

“Magic of course!” he said, as if that could justify it. He waited a moment and then rolled his eyes and lifted a hoof. “You touched my stone, and I left a piece of myself with you! A very small piece,” the colt said, indicating himself.

“So… you’re not really here?” I asked.

“Well… yes and no,” he said unhelpfully as he squirmed free of my grasp and bounced over to my sleeping body. He extended a hoof and passed it cleanly through my head. “Technically I’m still in my crystal prison. Only a part of myself, a teeny tiny little fraction of me, is with you. But I’ve always been pretty good at subverting the rules.”

I sat down, and the colt began to bounce around again. “This… I’ve gone crazy. That’s all there is to it.”

“Mmmmaybe. But who am I to judge?” the colt asked. I pressed my hooves into my temples and suppressed the urge to scream. After a long moment I released a slow breath and closed my eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Treachery stopped bouncing and looked at me curiously. “I’m spending time with my friend,” he said, as if the answer was plain as day. “Before that I was poking around in your thoughts and memories.”

“You what?” I asked.

“If you ask me to repeat everything we’re gonna be here a long time,” Treachery responded flatly. “I was poking around in your thoughts and memories.” He bounded back over to Jerry’s sleeping form and gestured at her. “This one is in a lot of both. You really like her! Why haven’t you told her yet?”

I blinked and then shook my head vigorously. “Okay. No. No! Get out of my head! This is weird.” I said, pressing my hooves to either side of my skull.

“Hmmm, would, but I can’t. This is kinda like… a permanent thing,” he said plopping down into a seat next to Jerry.

“Permanent?” I asked.

“Permanent,” he nodded.

I dropped to my rear and shut my eyes. “Great… just great…” I muttered.

“Hey now, friend! You’re acting like I’m gonna be a burden! I have MANY uses you know!” Treachery said, a scowl on his features.

“Yeah,” I asked. “Like what?”

Treachery bounded over and jumped to swot a hoof against my nose. “You’re big and strong, but not much else.”

“Wha- Hey!”

“Whereas I-” he said, gesturing at his diminutive form. “-am pretty much all power. Power I can use for you.”

“And why should I trust you? Your name is, literally, Treachery!” I said.

“And you know what that means?” he asked.

“Of course I do!”

“But how?”

I opened my mouth to respond, and hesitated. How did I know it? It wasn’t something I’d ever heard at The Dig, or from my momma. “I… don’t know…” I muttered.

“I know,” Treachery squealed happily as he moved closer, hopping up to hook his forelegs around my neck. “And because I am a teeny tiny part of you now, you know.”

My vision flickered and the odd pip-buck overlay I had become accustomed to blended from green to orange. I blinked several times and then looked at Treachery. "What did you jus-" I started to ask, but he pressed his hoof to my mouth, silencing me.

"Shhhh! It's late. And you've got a big day ahead of you. Best to get some sleep," he said.

I blinked again, my eyelids suddenly heavy, and consciousness fled me.

New Perk: Spirit Touched (Treachery) -- You've stumbled upon something ancient, unknowable and sneaky. You've gained a point of Intelligence. You also gain a bonus to recognizing misleading things in all forms.

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!

Touch of Treachery

Telling would spoil the fun, now wouldn't it?

Fallout: Equestria - Freedom

by WeaponPrime

Introduction

Prologue - The End of Innocence

Side Chapter - There's a Time and a Place

Chapter 1: Patience and Time

Chapter 2: Opportunity Knocks

Chapter 3: Broken Chains

Chapter 4: Ghosts of the Past

Chapter 5: Civilization, As It Were

Side Chapter - Unleashed

Chapter 6: Eye for an Eye

Chapter 7: Distraction

Chapter 8 - Waypoint

Chapter 9 - Somewhere That's Green

Side Chapter - Blood in the Water

Chapter 10 - Fleeting

Chapter 11 - Glimpses of the Past

Chapter 12: Treachery (UNEDITED)

Chapter 13 - Branching Paths (UNEDITED)