“We have in effect put all our rotten eggs in one basket. And we intend to watch this basket carefully.” -Von Luger, “The Great Escape”
This was to be Equestria's solution for any prisoners taken and due to overcrowded Bureaus. An estimated two hundred and seven camps were created from historic parks to college dormatories in states from Maine to as far as the Potomac River in Maryland. About half of the interns were captured soldiers and HLF members.
The wagon jointed along the dirt path as Mikey slowly came to. Although his vision still blurred, he could tell apart civilians from HLF members. The darkened atmosphere of the wagon’s interior and the clouds outside however made the coloration darker than normal.
“Hey buddy. You alright?” An old man nearby noticed Mikey rising from the floorboards.
“What happened?” Mikey replied rubbing the back of his head. His hands and feet were somehow untied, along with all of those inside.
“We’re heading for a POW camp near Bemis Heights, where the Historic Park is. I hear it’s a tough place to escape from.” An HLF member replied pointing out through the bars. “I should know. I’ve escaped nearly from every one in Vermont.” He added. Mikey looked out the bars to see where he was pointing.
Sitting on the next ridge were two wooden watchtowers with two guards each and a large searchlight. A wire fence only three feet high ran along the inner perimeter as large wooden huts and more towers started appearing. He could see seven metal poles with solid blue lights protruding around a twenty-five yard open field as they passed by. Several guards were on standby as the wagon came to a stop inside the compound. Some of the interns there looked on.
“Alright. Every pony out.” One of the guards shouted as the prisoners slowly crept out into the still bleak grey skies. Mikey jumped out and looked around him. There were more wagons filled with prisoners and civilians, at least twenty five wagons of them.
“You won’t turn me into one of you! You won’t make me!” An irrational HLF member shouted and rushed down the road. To Mikey’s surprise, the guards weren’t trying to stop them. The member kept running, thinking that they were idiots and he would be free. It didn’t last long. As soon as his foot crossed the pole’s boundary, the blue lights went red and electric charges shot out at him. He didn’t even have a chance to scream as he was vaporized into thin air, small fires engulfed his clothing. Some of the citizens panicked and screamed in fear as Mikey just looked on.
“Celestial Gates. Finest piece of shit you don’t want to tango with.” One of the prisoners strolled up to Mikey. He was about ten years older than him, un-kept hair and worn out jeans. His jacket had holes in the sleeves and it didn’t look like he shaved in weeks. “Name’s Murdoch by the way.” He extended his hand.
“Mikey.” Mikey reached out and shook.
“Pleasure to meet you Mike. Let me show you around.” Murdoch wrapped his arm over his shoulder as if he was a brother and led him into the camp.
“There are ten huts here. Two and Seven have the showers, five has a small library and ten has the laundry. As you just saw, those poles are the real threats around here. Not the guards, oh no sir. They only have to keep an eye on us HLF boys.” Murdoch explained as they rounded Hut four.
“Why not the civvies?”
“They’re not much of a threat and they know they won’t risk their lives to escape. Also, don’t ask about the gates’ power source. It’s remotely connected to the Bureau in Manhattan, along with the others along the river valley.” Murdoch replied, knowing that Mikey would ask about them eventually.
“Has anyone tried to escape?”
“Dozens tried, only to be turned to dust. I heard that one of the HLF figureheads lead the suicide charge at Camp Liberty near Pittsburg I think, or was it in Maryland?” Murdoch took his arm off and pondered about it. “News moves too quickly around here.”
“Is there anyone else in the front trapped here?” Mikey asked once more.
“Aside from you and five others, there are at least two hundred and fifty of them. Probably less by now.” Murdoch replied. Before Mikey could ask any more questions, a bell rang from one of the towers. “Six o’clock. Chow time at Hut One.” Murdoch got up and walked towards the hut, along with every other intern. He turned back to Mikey and waved him over.
“Your gonna like it here. They actually serve real food here, but still no meat though.” Mikey was disturbed by his light-heartedness. He took hold of Murdoch and slammed him against the side of the hut, out of the way of those entering.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?! We’re in a war camp guarded by ponies! Your giving up your humanity, your freedom, for what? A fucking meal? ” Mikey shouted. Murdoch sighed as his grip loosened.
“Look buddy. This is my eighth day here. In forty eight hours, I’m getting on those wagons and heading for the Bureaus wither I want to or not. I gave up on escape after seeing many of my friends getting eradicated by those fucking gates on the first three days. I had lost everything during the crash in 2013 and the rations in the HLF aren’t worth for shit. Here, I got warm food, a bed and I haven’t showered in weeks. Do yourself a favor and count your blessings for all their worth or you can go get yourself killed. I won’t stop you, nor will the guards.” Murdoch shoved past Mikey and went inside the hut.
Mikey just stood there. His stench of defeatism lingered in his nostrils and seeped into his mind. He just looked around him as hungry citizens; Human citizens walk by him and into the hut. He even noticed some of the HLF members Murdoch told him about help in elderly or injured people as others spat insults at one of the guard towers. As much as he hated it, he wasn’t going down as easily and walked over to the real fighters.
“Hey Goldie! Your armor’s dirty!” A member shouted. One was tossing a rock at the tower in attempts to hit them, but was shot out halfway in the air.
“Where’d you learn how to shoot? Call of Duty?” Another joked. Mikey reached the group as they tossed another rock. “Hey, you must be Mikey. I’m Jackson. I happened to overhear you and Murdoch, the pussy. The guy would sell you out for a raisin.”
“Are you guys all that’s left of the Saratoga Scoundrels?” Mikey asked. He noticed the HLF patch on their jackets, the blood color ‘S’ along with ‘13th New York’ barely visible in the light.
“Yeah. Fucking horses caught us near Stillwater while we were camping. I heard you guys gave them one hell of a fight at Ticonderoga.” Jackson said shaking hands.
“We lost.” Mikey bluntly stated, retracting his hand away.
“Who hasn’t? Ever since we lost the Boss in Washington, it’s been a loosing war for us. Everyone’s just looking out for themselves now a days, but we New Yorkers have to stick together, am I right?” Jackson turned to his comrades. They gave a loud cheer. Mikey felt right at home with these guys. They reminded him of his friends from the Bronx before all of this started, except they were either dead or ponified. The last thought came to mind.
“You guys know why we’re stuck in a camp instead of in a Bureau getting our asses ponified?” Mikey asked.
“I can answer that.” A civilian walked up to the group. He was at least twenty or so, barely had peach fuzz for a moustache, and wore a black pullover and a pair of mudded Nike sneakers. “The damn bureaus are filled up to bursting with all these forced ponifications, so they shove us here for a while until they have an opening; usually around ten days.”
“Piss off Pester. No body cares for your newsflashes.” Jackson joked.
“My name’s Toby and it’s not my fault I wanted to be a News reporter.” The civilian replied only to be shoved away by Jackson. He gave up and headed towards the hut.
“Don’t worry about Pester. He’s more of a pussy than Murdoch.” Jackson started heading towards the hut. “Come on Mikey, you can eat with us. We get the best tables once the civvies are gone.” Mikey didn’t say anything and followed closely behind.
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The inside of Hut six was as trashed as a college dorm, but this was going to be Mikey’s home for the next ten days, maybe less than that. Jackson, Patterson and Grant were still out while Kelly and Murdoch were resting on their bunks. Pester (Toby) lived there as well, but near those two than near Jackson’s bunk. Mikey was resting on the top bunk, his belly full of food. It didn’t seem so bad, though the pizza crust was burnt.
“So Mikey, how does it feel to finally get a break from fighting?” Kelly asked. Her deep blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and hung over her left shoulder. Her HLF attire was still in good shape compared to the others he’d seen, which meant she was still inexperienced like the recruits at Ticonderoga.
“It sucks. I’d rather keep fighting then sit here waiting to get my ass ponified.” He retorted and flipped onto his side.
“Come on. Didn’t you ever once want to just sit down and relax for a while?”
“Yeah, and I tend to make it brief.” Mikey said. Murdoch knew that kind of tone and rose up from his bunk.
“Now don’t tell me you plan to escape tonight, are you?”
“No. I’ll buy my time and wait for the right moment.” He hid his grin. He already had an escape plan ready ever since he met Murdoch. Jackson, Patterson and Grant soon barged in, totting behind a large burlap sack and laughing their heads off.
“Guess what we just ‘liberated’ from the Albany Boys in hut nine?” Jackson soon dumped the contents of the sack onto the ground. Lying on the ground were several piles of magazines, a bushel or two of apples and three folding military spades. There were also some used bandoliers, a clipboard and old GI helmets. Mikey just looked at the others.
“It’s just something they do when they get bored with the guards. They go raid other HLF controlled huts and vise versa.” Murdoch said with little to no interest.
“Your one to talk. You use to raid the Bronx Busters for their autographed baseballs and caps.” Patterson said. His short black hair complemented with his Latino blood and Giants t-shirt. “Quit sulking about your loss and join in the fun. We were about to hit the Vets in hut three before they leave tomorrow.”
“Wait, they send groups to the bureaus by huts?” Mikey’s interest perked.
“No, they do it by the way you came in. They use to do it by huts, but with new interns coming in, it was difficult to track it. The Vets in hut three are going to be the last ones done by huts.” Grant added. His southern draw made him the odd ball of the group, having moved from Atlanta a month before Equestria appeared. Pester approached the pile, only to be stopped by Jackson.
“Get your own loot Pester. This stuffs ours.” Jackson growled.
“I’m just taking the clipboard. Your not gonna need it.” Pester quickly took the clipboard and retreated to his side of the hut once more, leaving the hounds of war to their spoils.He looked at it briefly, but then looked at it again. “Hey guys. Do you have any idea what this is?”
“A stupid clipboard, what’s your point?”
“There's a list here with the departures for this camp,names and everything.” Pester suddenly stumbled back when Mikey rushed off his bunk and took the list. Every last name was on the list, along with the times and destinations for each group. He also noticed that it was written in pencil instead of ink, which meant anyone could take their place.
“Hey Murdoch, When do you head out?” Mikey asked looking to him.
“In two days, why?” Mikey rushed over to a desk where a pencil rested inside a mug and started looking for his name. Once he found him, he started erasing the names below and wrote in others. Jackson cruised over to see his name being added to the list.
“What the hell man! I still have five days left.”
“It’s the only way we may be able to escape. They’ll have to let those on the list out of the camp. I’m adding all our names so we can escape together and get back to the fighting.” Mikey explained.
“Well count me out.” Murdoch got up and erased his name and added a random name. “I’m done with all the fucking fighting.” He then returned to his bunk.
“So that’s it then. You have given up on Humanity, haven‘t you?” Grant said. Murdoch didn’t say a word. “Well I guess that leaves one spot open for you then Pester.”
“Congrats, you’re now a manlier man than Murdoch.” Jackson joked. “And as your first duty, you get to sneak this back into the barracks.” He shoved the list into Pester’s gut. Muttering under his breath, he walked out the door into the darkened night.
“That did say for tomorrow right?”
“First ones for the ten o’clock express to freedom.” Mikey reassured them all. He didn’t care about the risks anyways. He just wanted to keep fighting and now he wasn’t going to do it alone.