“Oh! Sorry, I just dozed off for a bit.” I said startled by this sudden awakening.
“It’s fine” Bit said with a friendly smile.
I slid over to the far side of the couch to give her enough room to sit down. Bit sat down and settled onto the couch. She looked over towards the radio and asked “So, ya got family?”
“Not anymore. My parents are now” I paused, “one with the dust...”
She just gave me a puzzled look. “What?”
“They’re long gone.” I restated.
“I’m lost”
“They’re dead.” I said bluntly.
“Ah, okay. Gotcha.” She said as she caught onto what I was saying. “Were y’all close?”
“Very. They were always there for me and they helped me through life. My dad Fret was an amazing pony. He could play guitar like no one else in the entire Bunker. He was the main entertainer at pretty much all of the social events held there. After his performance for the General’s election anniversary, he ran into Lavender, my mom. Then they raised me to be the best that I can be. But… my father died when I was 19. Everyone mourned him. My mom… she didn’t take his passing lightly. She cried for weeks and stayed up all night praying for him to somehow come back and for the event to never have happened. She finally accepted that he was gone months later. While forgetting, she became an alcoholic. I would always see her at the bar for at least an hour a day drinking a lot of martinis. At least the bar was getting plenty of money. But, drinking her life away came with a price. Her liver failed. But she kept drinking. I tried my hardest to convince her to stop, but she was too stubborn. She died a couple of weeks after her liver failure. My memories with them will stick with me forever. They will never be forgotten.”
“You’re crying.”
I wiped my eyes and saw my hoof saturated with moisture. “Oh. I didn’t really notice.” I said with a depressed tone that I just now realized I had. “I won’t ever forget them. No matter how much I drink, I will always remember them...”
I broke down crying. I buried my face onto Bit’s shoulder. I was wailing in between every shaky breath I took. Bit patted my back to comfort me. I’m extremely grateful to have a shoulder to cry on. After a few minutes my breaths began to steady, and my wailing downgraded to a whimper. I sat back up on my side of the couch.
“Thank you,” I said with my crackling voice, “that really helped. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” She said with compassion and a smile.
“What about you? Do you have any family?”
“I have a sister who is somewhere in this wasteland.”
“Do you not know where she is?”
“Kinda. We parted long ago. She became security for some fancy casino in the upper district in Center City. I became a travelling merchant.”
“They have casinos out here?” The crackling voice I had dissipated and turned into interest.
“Yep. But, that’s all the way in Center City. Miles away.”
“I’ve never been to a casino. The closest I’ve been to one was me and my friends playing blackjack over a round of drinks”
“I have a shipment over there in a couple a’ days. Care to tag along?” She said with a smile.
“Is there a bar over there?”
“That and a whole lot more”
“Deal.”
‘Casinos, bars, and more? Maybe this place isn’t that bad.’
During the days until our departure, Bit showed me around Junk Town. It’s a pretty quaint town with a big trading post, a residential area, a couple of food stands, and a small fenced in area for the power generators.
We stopped by a food stand that sold sandwiches, we ordered some tomato sandwiches, and Bit fired up a conversation with the merchant.
“Hey Glee” Bit said, “How’s your dog? Is he gettin’ better?”
“Oh… He’s in a better place now…” Glee said in a sorrowful tone
“He’s better now? That’s great” Bit said with a smile.
With that said, Bit grabs the finished bagged sandwiches and brings them over to the nearest picnic table. The table is pretty shabby with plenty of splinters, which I think I’ve sat on a couple. She hands me my food and we start to unbag it. At first glance my sandwich looks bad, but I take a bite anyway. On first taste the sandwich is horrid. The bread is stale, and the tomatoes taste like dirt. I take a sigh and finish eating.
“So, Bit” I said, “What exactly is Center City?”
“That place is the biggest city in this county,” Bit explained “it’s split into three districts: Lower, Middle, and Upper. Lower purpose is to house the poor. Middle’s purpose is to house the more wealthy and has a few mom and pa businesses. Upper’s purpose is to draw in the dumb to take their money by casinos, bars, and con artists. It’s full of crooks and businessmen in my opinion. I don’t understand why my sister works in a place so corrupt, but that’s none of my business.”
“How many more days until we head off?”
“After today, we should be heading there.”
“How long is the walk?”
“It’ll take about 5 hours if no incidents happen.”
“Incidents?”
“Raiders, wagon troubles, and a bunch of other stuff.”
“Oh, alright.” I said in a nervous tone as I remember my first encounter with a raider.
‘Well this’ll be fun.’ I thought sarcastically.
THUD! I get a wake-up call in the form of a pillow to the face. I fall off the couch and quickly get back on my hooves while in a panic. Bit is just standing there laughing with pillow in hoof.
“What was that for?!”
“To wake ya up,” She said with a giggle “we have to be on the road in an hour.”
“You know, you didn’t have to hit me with a pillow” I said with a tone of annoyance.
“It was more fun that way”
She smiled and then started to gather her supplies for the road. I decided to gather my few items and then I started help her out. But, got lost while looking at her work.
“Ya really like staring at me, don’t ya?” She said teasingly.
“I was just zoning out, that’s all.” I lied.
“Mmhm.”
“Quick question, what do you prefer?” I questioned.
“What do ya mean? Are ya talkin’ about-.”
I cut her off.
“Favorite food! Mine is ice cream.” I attempted to recover my previous statement.
“Ah, okay. Sweetrolls are pretty good.”
“Good to know.” I replied with a pretty rough attempt of being casual.
“Alright, I’ve got everything from here at least. Now time for the caravan and then we can head off.”
I nod my head and we make our way outside and to the trading post where there are a couple of caravans with little name plates mounted on the front. We walk over to the one with the name plate ‘Bit’ and Bit converses with one of traders about a new shipment. The trader nods and Bit calls me over to help pack the shipment. All the shipment was, was crates of full of various canned foods, water, and other non-perishables. Bit goes off deeper into the trading post and comes back with a stallion with a metal collar around his neck.
“What’s up with the collar around his neck?” I ask.
“It’s just a little something that keeps it in line.” Bit explained, “It’s a shock collar. Makes sure it doesn’t run away, hurt us, or stop doing its job. The shock collar has a few different ways to shock. For example, the 1st setting is just a standard shock which is 10k volts. Like this.”
She pulls out a small remote and presses one of the buttons. The stallion grits his teeth in pain and cowards away a little bit. My eyes widen from seeing such a horrible act and a wave of shock flows through me.
“Next setting,” she casually explains, “is a high voltage taser which has 50k volts.”
She presses another button. The stallion knees buckle and his whole body starts twitching. I can see him trying to reach for the collar to try to move it away, but the volts were too much for him and he collapses. I am horrified at this display of inhumanity. I look around and no one seems to care or even glimpse over.
“The last setting, which I won’t show unless this slave crosses us.” She says as she looks over to the stallion getting back up on his hooves. “Are you going to cross us?” She happily asks with intimidation.
His eyes are wide open with tears running down his face. He fearfully shakes his head no.
“Good slave.” She says in a happy tone.
“Bit, what the actual hell did you just do?” I said in shock.
“Just demonstrating.”
I try to clear what I’ve just saw out of my head, but to no avail. Bit just walks the ‘slave’ over to the caravan and harnesses him in. Bit waves me over and I hesitantly come over. She pulls out a map out of the caravan and shows me the routes that we can take. There is the long path, which takes 6-8 hours to travel through. It’s the safest but is definitely quite the trek. There’s the 5-hour path, which makes us travel on the main roads, and that’s just asking for trouble. I picked the long path just for general safety. With that said, we head out of Junk Town and into the urban wasteland.
The path is pretty uneventful just ruined buildings and pavement. Just walking for a couple hours makes my hooves hurt. I ask Bit if we can take a short break. She agrees that we can, but only for 10 minutes. We stop at an abandoned café and we sit down at a booth for a break. The ‘slave’ was tied to a street lamp by a chain linked to his harness.
“How much longer do we have to go?” I asked.
“2-3 hours.” She answered, “And stop your whinin’.”
We now just sit at the booth and fill the soundless space of the café with small talk. After a little while Bit goes to check on the slave. I look out one of the windows and appreciate the partly cloudy clouds and the sky that’s beyond them. Then I suddenly hear a faint “Oh shit” come from Bit outside. I walk out the café and I saw something that I wasn’t expecting.
There lied the slave with his throat cut and many deformities from a blunt force, lying in a pool of blood. I stood in horror with my eyes glued to the sight of his limp body for a good while.
“We’re not alone here.” Bit said as she reached I the caravan and pulled out a shotgun. “I suggest ya ready yourself.”
I pull out my 9mm and we both observe our surroundings for anyone else. We slowly head back to the café for a safer place to stay. We look out the windows, but still no one. Then, I hear the sound of Bit yell something which was cut short by a loud clang. I turn around and see 3 armed raiders. 1 with a m16, and 2 with metal bats.
“Hey there little lady,” one with a metal bat said maniacally while approaching me, “we won’t hurt ya. Just wanna have some fun.”
I aim my 9mm at the one approaching.
“Step back, or else I’ll shoot!” I say with an attempt of intimidation.
The one with the m16 aims at me.
“Put your gun down.” He said with an even more intimidating tone.
I drop my gun, but I still have my nightstick on me. I have an on the spot plan in my head. My plan is to take out the closest one and use him as a meat shield. Then, I’ll pick up my 9mm and take the other 2 out. I mentally count down from 5 as the one approaching get even closer.
‘Now!’
I pull out my night stick and swing at the bat wielding raider. He grabs my nightstick and bashes my face with it. Then everything fades to black.