We must have sat there staring at that stupid door for hours. Hoping against hope that they'd decide it was a mistake, and let us back in.
Finally, with fumbling hooves, we started to unwrap the bundle that had been thrown to Fern. A single 10mm pistol, a basic medical kit, a set of security barding including helmet. That was it.
Fern offered me the barding, but I refused. “No way in Tartarus I'm letting you go without.” I snapped. “You just put your flank on the line for me, I'd never forgive myself if you got hurt because of it.”
I tried my best to sound brave, but I somehow don't think Fern was fooled. The way my voice shook must have been a giveaway.
Both our regulators were beeping loudly.
“We should ration it,” Fern said. “Use it when we need it badly. We don't have a lot left, two weeks supply tops.”
I nodded in agreement, carefully examining the pistol. Thankfully, it seems the manual that had been uploaded to my pipbuck was a security training manual. The inventory flashed, informing me this pistol was named the Overdoes Guardian. It also seemed to be modified to fire two shots at a time rather than the standard one. After some reading, we learned how to load the pistol safely, although it took us another ten minutes to figure out that the safety was on. I hoofed the pistol back to Fern. “You should keep it. Your mom gave it to you anyway, and I already have some kinda weapon for now.”
Finally, after much procrastination, we pulled our gear together and started off down the tunnel. After a moment of hesitation, we pushed open the rickety wooden door. I heard Fern gasp beside me. Her breath caught in her throat, and her regulator practically screamed at her. My legs buckled under me.
“WHERETHEBUCKISTHECEILING?!”
I shrieked. Hoofing the red button on my pipbuck for all it was worth, I tried to process what was in front of me.
The vast, blighted remains of a forest stretched out for miles. Fern and I clung to each other and bolted back inside, gasping for breath as our brains tried desperately to process what we'd just seen.
Once we had calmed down, I peered outside again cautiously.
After some debate, we decided that we should bed down here for the night, then in the morning head out. We unrolled our bedrolls side by side, threw a blanket over ourselves and tried our best to sleep. Our backs were leaning against the only place we'd ever called home.
My sleep wasn't exactly peaceful. I kept seeing his head exploding. But it kept growing back .
That bloodstained face laughing as they chased me through the Stable.
No matter where I went, every door was locked.
Every time I saw anybody, they just turned their backs.
Now he wasn't alone, the Stable's sentry bots were helping him, turning and herding me back towards him.
Finally I turned to face him, turning the pressure washer towards him. But when I bit down on the bit he changed.
It was Fern who took the hit, her head vanishing in a red mist, just like his had.
Behind me, the ghost of Aspen laughed mockingly. He lowered his head and charged, but this time there was nowhere to run.
I woke up clinging desperately to Fern, sobbing. She was my only real friend, I couldn't stand the thought of losing her.
She clung to me just as tightly, until we both managed to calm ourselves. Our regulators wailed, reducing gradually to an occasional warning beep. Then, once we were a little more calm, we both pushed the button. The usual hiss sounded out as the injector went to work, helping us feel a little safer all by itself.
Neither of us really wanted to get up and out of that tunnel. While we were debating what to do, though, our minds were made up for us by a large radroach dropping from the ledge above, right onto my head. M uch stomping and screamingt later and half a magazine of wasted bullets later we finally got our breathing back down to normal. Between that, and the depressing realization that the door wasn't going to open again--no matter how bad we wanted it to--we made up our minds. We packed up our beds, and accepted going outside was probably our only chance if we wanted to survive out here for long.
Once more we stood, at the threshold to all that nothing. Looking once to each other, we then stepped out into the light of day.
Fern turned to smile at me. It looked a little halfhearted, but hay, right now I'd take what I could get. “We can do this,” she said to me. “We have to. We can't stay here forever.”
Smiling back and softly nosing her, I turned back towards the twisted nightmare that we now had to face together. Whatever had happened to this place, it sure as Tartarus didn't feel anything like the energy I felt in the gardens. It still felt alive, yet somehow... Wrong. The trees themselves had been dyed almost red by the rads they had soaked up, and my pipbuck flashed up the name “Red Forest.”
The gnarled roots around us seemed to have gradually reclaimed the few nearby buildings over the years. “We should see if we can find anything in these buildings,” suggested Fern. “At the very least they'll be more shelter than the tunnels were. Maybe we can even find some supplies.” My heart sank at the thought. I really, really, really didn't want to rummage through what was left of some poor bucker's life and possessions. In the end, though, she was right; we needed to find food. The mild, rusty glow of the grass beneath our hooves really did not look like something we'd wanna eat either.
So for the second time today, we stood in a doorway daring ourselves, then entered the darkness together. At least having a roof over our heads again felt a little better. That relief, though, was shortlived--my heart sank as I saw the skeletal family gathered together. Didn't matter that they'd been dead so long; I still felt kinda bad for them.
“I'm sorry to disturb you, we need food and supplies.” I told them. It didn't even matter that they'd been dead for years. I still felt bad raiding their home like this. Least I could do is be a respectful guest.