Chapter Two: Lessons Learned
“You see, it’s a… Very dangerous world out there. The Wasteland isn’t kind, and two little fillies like you really shouldn’t be out here.”

Watching her fall reminded me of every detail. The splash of blood. Her body lying on the ground. The burning of my tears.

It probably only took a split second for her to fall, but it felt like an eternity.

“Lost!” I heard myself scream as I galloped up the stairs as fast as my hooves could carry me. I jumped the last two steps and landed sideways in a skid, facing the direction the shot came from. Across from me stood a tall buck. A gun rested, smoking, in his mouth. He stared, his yellow eyes wide with surprise. I bit the trigger, pushed by instinct and adrenaline.

My bullet tore through his throat, splattering blood across the walls. He put a hole in Lost’s neck, I completely destroyed his. Still staring wide, his mouth open in silent protest, his head fell to the floor. His body stood for only a moment, before falling into a heap in the suddenly blood-soaked hallway. The sound of his gun clattering down the stairs echoed.

Looking back, I stared at my sister. She gasped for breath, twitching slightly. Her eyes were open, but stared blankly forward. Blood poured from her neck, painting her red. I couldn’t lose her. I didn’t remember dad. I watched mom die. I couldn’t lose my sister too; she was all I had left. I wouldn’t let her die. I turned and looked at the stallion I’d shot.

Running over, I dug through his saddle bags. There had to be something I could use, there had to be. He wasn’t a Stable pony, he wore the barding of a Wastelander. He’d be carrying healing potions. He had to have something!

His first bag was empty. I tried the second. At the very bottom, there was a tiny potion bottle of pink healing liquid. It was enough. It had to be enough.

I grabbed the vial and ran back to my sister. Skidding to a stop next to her, I gently grabbed her head and propped it up in my hooves. Biting the stopper off the bottle, I poured the contents into her mouth. This would work, it couldn’t be too late. She’d be fine, perfectly fine after just a few seconds. The pink liquid trickled out of the gaping hole in her throat. No, no... I pressed a hoof against the hole trying to hold everything in.

Her eyes suddenly looked alive and focused. She gasped a few times, her breathing coming with a wet gurgling sound. I could feel her blood bubbling against my hoof. She was in bad shape, but she was alive and that’s what mattered. I pulled her close and held her, not knowing what else I could do.

She twitched and shifted slightly, breathing still coming shallow and wet. Her pulse was weak, I almost couldn’t feel it. I don’t know how long I sat there, listening, feeling, trying to guess what was a sign that she was doing better, or what was a sign she was getting worse. Clenching my eyes closed, I leaned over her and cried.

I felt a faint tap at my shoulder, maybe a sign she was better? Pulling back, I looked at her and moved my hoof away from the bullet wound. The skin over the hole was beginning to heal, but she looked horrible. Her flesh was a disgusting mottled brown and yellow around the wound, and we were now both covered in blood. She tapped again and weakly pointed a shaking hoof. I turned and saw a sign that said ‘Clinic’ with an arrow.

“I’m not leaving you,” I argued. At no point was I just going to run off and leave her to die alone on the floor. The clinic might have something left, something that could help her...

Lost’s breathing sped up as she retched and choked. She shook her hoof in the air at the sign, groaning. Blood flecked off and onto the floor. Through the pained look on her face, she groaned. It sounded a lot like ‘go.’

“Alright... I’ll be back as quick as I can!” I said. I galloped off, following the sign.

Thankfully, the halls were mostly lit. Through the intermittent light I could see the signs at the corners and intersections. Skidding on floors obviously not made for running, I pushed myself as fast as I could. I slammed into the wall at an intersection that knocked the wind from me. I didn’t have time to be hurt. Without slowing down, I galloped down the next hallway. Twisting and turning down different hallways, I ran up a flight of stairs and finally found a large door with the word 'Clinic' painted on it. I hit the button and prayed.

The clinic was small, with only a counter, a medicine cabinet, and a row of three beds, separated by movable walls. I ran straight for the cabinet, smashing it with a forehoof to stop myself and open it at the same time. It wasn’t locked, and the door bounced open. Dozens of different bottles and syringes lined little cubbies inside. “What do I grab, what do I grab?” I asked nopony. Reaching in, I pulled as much as I could out and looked through the labels. Didehydro... methyl...

I didn’t have time for reading technical names. I just took everything I could. I didn’t care what it was. Lost would know what she needed. I threw everything into my saddlebags. I knew some were healing bandages and some was Med-X. Those were the most important. Grabbing one syringe in my teeth, I turned and ran back into the hallway.

I barreled down the hallways, already out of breath. My hooves clattered on the steel floor, slipping and sliding out from under me. Every extra second I took was one too many. If I made it back only to find my sister dead, I’d never forgive myself. I slammed into the wall at a corner just to stop myself, and ran down another hall. I jumped down the flight of stairs and rolled. Getting back to my hooves, I galloped as fast as my hooves could carry me.

Rounding the last corner, I saw her. Lost’s bleeding had stopped. She lay on her side, breathing shallowly, with a grimace on her face. Thank goodness for the healing magic of potions. Her eyes were closed and the blood was starting to dry on her. I slid to the ground as I got to her, and jabbed the needle of Med-X into her neck and prayed. I really hated not knowing any what I was doing. Lost was supposed to be the thinky pony.

When I offered her the bandages from my saddlebags, she tried to lift them with her telekinesis. The haze of her magic was faint, and the bandages fell to the floor. “I’ll do it,” I offered. Awkwardly, I unraveled them, and slowly wrapped them around her neck. When I finally finished, having tied them off with my hooves and teeth, I cracked open one of the bottles of water we had found. Helping her to drink and seeing nothing leaking through the bandages, I finally let myself calm down a little.

* * *

I placed my hoof on her forehead, below her horn. “Shhh. Heal now, talk later,” I whispered, looking down and smiling. “That was close, sis. I thought I was going to lose you... We got lucky.” I’d been sitting next to her for ages, anxiously waiting for her to get her strength back. “We’re always going to get an extra, emergency healing potion from now on. Deal?”

“Deal,” I answered for her. I picked up her glasses and placed them back on her nose. “Here, can’t lose these. Don’t know if you’ll ever find a new pair in the Wasteland.” I sighed, watch my eyes go bad too one day...

Without any actual training on how to help ponies in pain, and no cheater magic to make up the difference, I just sat with my sister and held her. The best I could do was comfort her while the magic in the potion and the bandages did its work. I stroked her forehead gently with a hoof, whispering what little reliefs I could. If mom had been here, she’d have fixed Lost up in an instant, but... I couldn’t do a thing to help. As she slipped back and forth from consciousness, I just watched, checking her temperature, her breathing, and looking for any sign that she might be slipping away from me.

When I finally felt she was stable enough for me not to risk losing her, I went to the headless corpse of our attacker. It had been eating me up as I waited, who had he been... Had he been looking for somepony? Had he been trying to find food for his family? Was he a bounty hunter or a slaver? Or was he another scavenger, trying to steal the treasure we’d come for? What was so dangerous here that he was firing at the first sign of... anything? Who was... My throat locked up as the words slipped through my mind, I felt tears rolling down my cheeks as what I’d done finally hit me.

I’d made a lot of mistakes in my life, and put my sister and myself into a lot of bad situations. I’d never done something this bad, though... Over the years we picked our moves carefully, always going out of our way to avoid fights with other ponies. And, in just one second, being careless, it finally happened. I couldn’t breathe, and everything felt tight, like somepony was standing on my chest. I had murdered somepony. Justified or not, I was a murderer. Could... Could I justify something like this? Did this mean I’d become the kind of pony we’d spent our lives avoiding? What if it became a habit? What if I started to like it...

I lost track of time as I stared at the headless body, taking in every detail. He obviously wasn’t a Stable pony, his coat was dirty and covered in scars, knicks, and empty patches where he’d been shot. What was left of was a dull brown, and he had a messy, tawny mane and tail. He was very plain, no bright eye catching colors like some ponies I’d seen. He must have blended in well with the stark dirt of the Wasteland. He wore armored barding that covered his shoulders and haunches, with tattered sleeves covering his forelegs. Despite having been repaired several times by somepony who looked to be quite skillful, he’d obviously been in many tight spots. His cutie mark was covered, and he lacked anything that would give away just who he was.

I couldn’t get that thought out of my mind. I wanted to remove the barding and see his cutie mark, but I knew that would be invasion of privacy. It seemed odd to think that of a corpse, I’d looted dozens of bodies before. We’d taken things from the ghouls just hours ago. What made this stallion special? I shot him... He shouldn’t have been a corpse at all. Defiling him more was just another step I didn’t think I could take.

My hooves ached, my eyes burned. This whole place was horrible. What was it all for? Because there might be treasure, some pre-war bits that weren’t worth shit anymore. So a stallion could nearly kill the only family I had left? And... and then, I’d killed him... We should have just stayed at our hideaway. No treasure was worth this.

He hadn’t looked happy to be in the situation either. He looked surprised, afraid... His face was still locked that way even now, eyes wide and mouth agape. He wasn’t smiling, he didn’t look vindictive. He didn’t even wear the hides of those he’d killed like I’d seen so many raiders do. So who was he? His cutie mark was covered, but did... I looked back at my own. “An X... is it a target?” I asked myself. “A place to fire a shot, crosshairs. What the fuck... maybe I was supposed to be a killer, a perfect shot? Why couldn’t I have been the one who got shot? Lost would know what to do...” I slumped down on my haunches, and picked up the head of the buck.

I stared into his hollow eyes, and lifted the head to mine. He was an earth pony like me, though far older. Scars covered his muzzle, and he was missing one ear. I couldn’t stand to look him in the eye, at that cold, terrified accusing glare. Pressing our foreheads together, I whispered, “I’m sorry.” Whether raider, bandit, slaver, or just somepony’s son, I shouldn’t have killed him. Not the way I did. I closed my eyes and held the head until it went cold. He needed a burial. I murdered him, and I’d put him to rest. Time passed slowly, but I snapped myself out of it.

* * *

I felt bad about killing the stallion, and didn’t want to defile him... but there were some things the Goddesses gave you that you didn’t pass up. I tried to pull it off, but it wouldn’t come loose. For several minutes I tugged and pulled at the metal casing, twisting and working up a frustrated sweat. I heard a tapping at the floor and looked back over to Lost.

She limply pointed at the wall again. This time the sign she was pointing to said ‘Maintenance’ and had an arrow pointing the other way.

“Tools. Mom showed me once. Special… screwdriver,” she said, wheezing. Her voice was a lot better than it had been before, but it wasn’t back to normal yet. Whatever damage was done inside must not be fully healed yet, hopefully the bandages would take care of it.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” I said, slowly trotting off towards maintenance. I checked my battle saddle, just in case. That buck might not be alone and I couldn’t dare be unprepared. Nopony had come running when shots were fired, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others waiting. If he was so eager to shoot, there might even be something more dangerous wandering the halls.

Following the signs leading to the maintenance felt somewhat crazy. We were already on the ‘maintenance floor’, which meant several stops into rooms that didn’t have anything like what I needed. Several were dead ends with entrances to the lower level and more machines, so much that it made my head spin. The trip was uneventful, with no random ponies jumping out to kill me, and no ghouls wandering around. Finally, I found a room nestled in the back corner of the floor, with a small PipBuck design on the door, and the word ‘Maintenance’ in bright yellow underneath.

I walked into the room and looked around. It was just... grey. It was the least interesting room I’d ever seen, just shelves and desks and neatly stacked boxes that were all grey. A little color wouldn’t have hurt... I had no idea what I was looking for, so I dug through every grey desk, box, and table I could find. Three screwdrivers later, I retraced my steps through the winding halls and laid the tools in front of my sister.

“I didn’t know which one you needed, so I brought all the ones I could find,” I explained.

“It’s this one,” she said, lifting one of the three screwdrivers in the blue haze of her magic. She rose to her hooves slowly, and her legs wobbled. Breathing heavily, she slowly walked over to the headless buck. Lowering herself back to the ground, she lifted his hoof and examined the PipBuck. The green screen on the little device flashed repeatedly, showing a little outline of a pony with the word ‘DECEASED’ over it. Under the screen were three glowing buttons, and it had a gauge of some sort on the one side. Lost flopped his hoof over, and dug the screwdriver in. Slowly she opened the casing, more dismantling it than ‘opening’ it. She kept working until she could open it part way and pull it from his leg. The second it left his coat, the screen went black.

Floating it over to me, I lifted my right forehoof and let her attach and reassemble it. It felt strange, having the extra weight there all the sudden. The PipBuck had a thick padding underneath it, to protect the hoof and fetlock from any sharp edges on the casing. It was already cold, and aside from some minor unease at wearing something from a dead pony, it felt like it belonged there. Her task finished, Lost slowly sunk back to the hard steel floor and closed her eyes.

I grabbed the two screwdrivers she hadn’t used and tossed them into my saddlebags as backups for lockpicking. It never hurt to have a spare. The one she’d needed for the PipBuck I picked and put into her bags. With a pause, I grabbed the snack cakes we’d snagged earlier and offered them to her. “Here, you should eat something,” I suggested. “Keep your energy up.”

I sat across from her. “Now... While you eat, let me just,” I said, lifting the PipBuck. I pressed one of the three buttons. The screen lit up, and my world suddenly turned completely green. After several seconds, bits and pieces started to disappear, leaving me with several things flashing in the corners of my vision, just enough that I could read without it being in the way. Focusing on them, I made out little icons, symbols and bars, all telling me a bunch of things I couldn’t make out. I lifted a hoof to wave them away, but hit nothing. The letters and pictures were part of my vision.

How it worked, I didn’t know, since the PipBuck was nowhere near my eyes. I blamed magic. A banner reading ‘Start Up’ flashed on the right side of my vision. Underneath the ‘Start Up’ were several other words flashing in quick succession. The first one read Eyes Forward Sparkle. As soon as the word disappeared, the flashing compass icon-bar-thing in the bottom left of my vision solidified and filled with little markers. Above it, a series of bars appeared and filled to the edge of the compass bar, before a few disappeared. A little outline of a pony flashed repeatedly over the left half of my sight, indicating something about my sprained ankle. Thinking about it, the pain came back as a dull ache in my leg. Distracted by the sudden reappearance of pain, I missed the next several words, but managed to catch more green indicators and bars solidifying in the other corners of my vision. Too bad I’d missed what they were for.

On the compass marker was a little green bar, dead center. When I turned my head it moved, staying aligned towards L.A. wherever I looked. I turned full circle, and the compass marker filled with hundreds of little red bars, all together in the direction of Stable Twelve. Could this thing read through walls? Either way, I was glad we avoided that...

I looked down at the casing, twisting my hoof to get a good look at it. The gauge on the side had a little symbol on it, one I remembered mom explaining meant radiation, and to avoid it if I ever saw it. I ignored the meter, since it showed nearly empty. The screen showed the same outline of a pony I’d seen flashing during the startup, with little notices and alerts still ticking off near each limb. Wait, was it always a mare? It looked silly, but cute. I pushed random buttons with the tip of my hoof, causing the screen to switch to other readouts full of numbers and lists. One had a list of everything I carried on me, and another had- What in the Wasteland... quests? There were lots of them... There was another tab at the bottom labeled notes. It took me a while to find the little turny-thing that flipped over to that screen, but once there I found what looked like notes he’d taken down.

They’d be a good place to start in finding out who he was. I squinted to read the tiny text displayed. Something about Leathers, nonsense about Pommel Falls, and... there was a map. Just like mom’s! It was just what we needed, and would be amazingly useful. Just like being lost in the Stable, for years we’d wandered and hid, not knowing how far away we were to danger or towns. This would be a perfect.

I indulged for a few minutes, fascinated at what the mountain looked like from the PipBuck’s point of view. Technology was occasionally wonderful, as long as it wasn’t a terminal... There were a few markers listed, Leathers and Pommel Falls were marked, as was a marker for Stables Twenty One and Twelve. Weird thing was there was only one for both, with the ‘1’ of each Stable smooshed so close together it looked like like ‘2II2’ and not ‘21’ or ‘12.’ There was one other place called Skirt further in the mountains. I tried my best to trace a path back to any of our hideaways, but either they weren’t listed or I just didn’t know how to read a map. I smiled either way, knowing that them not being listed was safer for us.

“Hey L.A. There’s some towns and stuff nearby. With this we could travel and avoid them,” I said, staring down at the PipBuck’s screen. Slowly, I looked over at the corpse of the buck who owned it just moments ago.

“Ugh.... Whatever. Sounds good, can it take us home?” she groaned. Having finished her snack, she threw the wrapper away, down the stairs we’d come up.

I didn’t answer right away. Instead I stared at the stallion’s body. Something tore at me, whether guilt or something else I wasn’t sure. He might have been a bad pony but, did he deserve what I did to him? I could at least tell his family, if he had any. I know I’d want Lost to know if something happened to me. The idea of her looking for me after I was gone hurt.

“On second thought...” I muttered to myself. “We should go to these places... So I can apologize.” I stared at the head and shuffled a hoof. “I want to know who he was. I... should make up for it.” I hope it didn’t sound like I was begging.

“Why!” she demanded. “He shot me, you shot him better. You think he’d give a fuck if it was my dead body lying there?” She raised a hoof to point to her throat for emphasis. “He shot me at first sight! And who knows what other ponies might do? If you tell somepony you shot this asshole they'll probably just shoot you! Look at what happened to dad. Ponies aren’t good anymore, not like they were before the War. You heard the same stories I did from mom. It’s just not safe, and I do not want to get shot again!”

Lost Art just rolled her eyes, and shook her head. “No,” she said. The discussion was over, just like that. Big sister made the rules...

Dejectedly, I went back to fiddling with the PipBuck. It had reorganized my bags somehow, and listed off values for everything we had. Apparently I had just over a hundred caps worth of stuff on me, and the bits that I had found were worth close to fifty. “Really, that’s all?” I asked the little hoof-mounted terminal.

Clicking around, I noticed a radio... thing on the screen. I clicked it with the tip of my hoof. Nothing happened. Shaking my forehoof a few times I hit the casing with my other hoof. “Work,” I said, as if that would magically fix it.

“Work what?” asked Lost. She walked over and rested her head on my shoulder to look at the screen.

“The radio doesn’t work,” I explained, tapping it on and off a few times. Stupid broken thing.

“It doesn’t have a speaker,” Lost said as her horn lit up. The side of the PipBuck lit up with the blue haze of her telekinesis as she pulled a little piece from the casing. “You need to use this. It’s an earbloom. Remember mom’s?” She lowered the earbloom into my hoof.

“Oh...” I whispered. Lifting it up, I fumbled around until I got it hooked in place. Nothing but silence. I clicked the radio on again. With a burst of white noise, the PipBuck broadcast the worst excuse for radio I’ve ever heard. Yelping in pain, I pulled the earbloom away. I didn’t have much to really compare it to, but if that’s what passed for radio, I wasn’t impressed.

I turned down the volume and held the earbloom against my ear without actually putting it in. Through the static, I could make out a few words. “...Wasteland sacrificed... Got away... Goes out... Stable... Tails...” It was all gibberish. Whoever was talking on the other end went silent, replaced by a Goddess-awful amount of static. I gave a small smile and looked over to L.A.

“So, does it work now?” Lost Art asked. She stood, and walked down the hall a few steps, looking much better and not wobbling on her hooves. The bandages had turned a dour brown from the soaked-in blood, but she was alive, and that’s what mattered.

“Lots of static, but it works,” I answered, looking down at myself. Eugh, I was still covered in her blood. My neck and chest were a sticky brown semi-dry blood mess.

“Right. Let’s get out of this piece of shit death trap,” Lost said as she began toward the door back to the first Stable. “Back the way we came, out through Stable Twelve, the door should still be open, and at least the zombies won't shoot me in the throat.”

I’d been shot bad before. I knew how much it hurt and how it made you want to just go home and curl up. Going back meant walking through the Stable full of zombie ponies, and Goddesses knows what else, where that mass of red markers in the E.F.S. was. But going forward? I looked at the display in the corner of my vision and turned slightly. Given the choice between going back through that Stable, where I knew dangers waited, and leaving through this one...

“There’s nopony ahead of us. I can tell from the PipBuck,” I said, hoping it would convince her. “There’s a lot of ghouls that way, we should go through this Stable instead, it’ll be safer, and maybe we can find more treasure on this side? Maybe even find out what happened here? I have a map now...” Hopefully that would be enough to convince her. “We might find some good treasure here? It’ll be a good, safe, distraction until we leave, right?” I glanced at the map. Lifting my hoof I showed her where the Overmare’s office might be. “It won’t take long, we’ll still leave the Stables.”

“No,” she argued, stomping her hoof on the steel floor. “We don’t know what that doesn’t see. I want to go home, and I want to hide where it’s safe. No more treasure hunting. Not until I feel like we’re capable of handling it.” She pushed my hoof away and glared angrily. Her expression softened. “It’s not safe out here, even with a PipBuck.”

“Can we at least go to raid the Clinic’s medicine cabinet for any potions or meds I missed?” I begged, trying to show her a good reason for exploring more. If I could get her started, we’d probably continue. It wasn’t right to manipulate my sister, and I knew it. It was the best thing we could do though, stocking up on supplies we needed, and that beat out guilt.

Lost stopped in her tracks, lowered her head with an over exaggerated sigh, and turned around. “Fine. But that’s it,” she said, her voice having lost some of its bitter edge. She walked back and looked at the PipBuck’s screen. “Afterward, we leave.”

We turned down the hall, the same way I’d frantically run earlier to find the clinic. I stopped, while Lost kept on walking, and looked at the stallion’s severed head. I killed him, and it was my responsibility to give him a burial... I picked it up and gently put it into my saddle bags. The body was too big for me to carry, and I knew better than to ask Lost for help. This would need to be enough. As we walked away, I tried to forget what had happened.

* * *

I trotted after my sister, distracted by the new toy strapped to my forehoof and the fancy new E.F.S. lighting up my vision. I didn’t see anything red in front of me, and given that Lost Art was the only green light I saw, it was pretty easy to put two and two together. Not only was this Stable empty, but it was still mostly functional. If only there was some way we could make this place a home for us. It’d be quite the step up from our hideaways and the home we’d made in the Wasteland. Unfortunately, it would be just too big a job for the two of us, with securing the place, the machinery, and all sorts of other issues that were more than two-pony jobs.

With signs to follow, and no worries about anypony bleeding out if we weren’t fast enough, Lost and I casually walked down the same halls I’d been through before to the Clinic. Luckily this time, I wasn’t trailing my sister’s blood after me. I kept my eyes on the E.F.S. the entire time, but the trip was uneventful. I walked in and headed straight toward the open medicine cabinet. The pickings were rather meager, since I’d already grabbed the majority of what was left. I didn’t want to leave anything we could use though, in case we ran into another bad situation. Better to have it and not need it, than the other way around.

The extra digging paid off, and I managed to find another healing potion in a yellow box at the back of the cabinet, along with a bottle of something called Buck, and a single dose of RadAway. After emptying the box, I stared at the three pink butterflies on its front. Why hadn’t I just thrown the whole box into my saddlebags? I stuffed it in anyway, even if it was empty.

The rest of the room seemed incredibly sterile and inhospitable, even for a clinic. It felt more like a room to settle the dead than to heal the living. I made sure to check the desk in the back corner, but didn’t find anything useful. All I could find inside was a clipboard for a patient from decades ago, with some scribbling on it. I tried to read whatever had been written there, but the only thing I could make out was ‘radiation’ in big red letters. While I hunted for treasure, Lost Art idly looked around the room. The way she hung close to the door made it clear she had little interest in searching.

I gave up on the clipboard and looked at the terminal sitting atop the desk. “Hey sis?” I asked, motioning for her to come over, “Want to crack this open for me?” I figured giving her something to do would take her mind off being stuck here for the moment. At least we could work together to get through it faster?

“You need to learn to do it yourself, in case I get killed,” she said, the bitter tone returned to her voice once again. Instead of walking over to help, she turned to the door and stared into the hallway.

I didn’t want to learn, not after my last bad experience with a terminal. The PipBuck was fine because it was small and had lots of nifty things going on. It was attached to me and therefore safe. She was the smart pony and I needed her as much as she needed me.

“Not every terminal is going to have a grenade in it, and I’ll help if you need it,” she said, her voice softening somewhat. She sighed and walked over. We were family, and it was good to see she’s wasn’t going to stay mad forever. “It’s simple, and I’m here if you need help.”

I hesitantly tapped away on the terminal’s keyboard, trying to find the right string of characters that would let me in. Of course it couldn’t hurt to give it a try, if she had died I’d be down here all by myself. I shuddered and pushed the thought away, reminding myself that I did need to learn sometime. Even if terminals were imposing...

For several minutes I tapped away, making mistake after mistake, with Lost Art giving pointers whenever I messed up, which happened a lot. These things were too complicated! I couldn’t type well with hooves like she could with magic, so there were a lot of misspellings. I kept forgetting to set it to the proper mode to break in whenever I reset it. The fact that I couldn’t just hit it until it worked wasn’t helping my mood at all. I was about to give up on the Goddesses-forsaken thing when I finally guessed the right password and got in. The password had been ‘Relief.’ “Heh. Clever,” I muttered as I hit enter.

Patient seems to be suffering from advanced radiation poisoning. I am extremely confused as to where he came into contact with any, since the Overmare has assured me there have been no reports of radiation leaks from maintenance or internal sensors. I am considering the... possibility that it may have been exposure from our conjoined sister Stable. Heartleaf mentioned that Stable-Tec made our Stables conjoined for a reason, but she would not elaborate on the issue no matter how much I pressed her. I will continue to monitor the patient’s status for the next week while administering radiation therapy spells at 24 hour intervals.

“Well, that’s... clinical?” I said before closing the file. I clicked on the next one to see if it was more interesting.

Patient has not gotten any better, and there is now news of other ponies presenting the symptoms of radiation sickness. So far nopony has shown symptoms as bad as Patient 355. I have decided to break quarantine and contact the doctor across at Stable 12 and get a second opinion. I need to speak to Heartleaf as soon as I can to find out what the problem is at the other Stable and why there are radiation leaks. I know our Stable was built perfectly to specifications, but it would be nice to have been issued a PipBuck to assist in locating the source of the contamination. [REDACTED]

That was actually interesting. I turned to my sister, and said, “Well, he couldn’t have come from this Stable.” I held up the PipBuck on my fetlock. “Nopony here had one, apparently.” I clicked to the final file, hoping to get some more information.

Patient 355 has taken a turn for the worse. He was apprehended attempting to sneak down to the basement level. I presume he was trying to get back to Stable 12, though how he managed to leave the clinic, I’ll never know. I had a guard from 12 come and assist me in returning him to the clinic. I do not feel he will survive, and have switched my current treatment plan from radiation therapy to palliative care.

“I wonder if the... uhh, palliative care helped with the radiation?” I said, looking over to my sister. “At least we know there was definitely something going on between these two Stables.” I felt quite proud, being able to figure all this out on my own. I just needed to find out why one Stable was perfect and the other completely broken, and where everypony was. I looked down at the E.F.S. Maybe, but not until it was the only option...

With nothing more worth finding in the Clinic, I led Lost Art away and down the hall. She followed quietly, distant, not saying anything. At least she wasn’t arguing that I took her further than I’d promised. As we walked down the winding, identical corridors, I noticed something that stood out amongst the uniformity of the grey walls.

The corpse of a ghoul lay against the wall, splattered open and oozing black... something. The back of the ghoul had been broken clean in half, most likely from whatever made the pair of hoof-sized dents in the wall. Chunks of the body were still imbedded in the impressions, and the same black goo seeped from the holes to the floor. It smelled horrible. A trail of black hoofprints led away from the hall in the same direction we were walking.

“Guess he did some warm up,” Lost Art said, mostly to herself. She stopped for a moment to look at the chunks of flesh lodged in the wall, before walking past. Her mood shifting back and forth made my heart sink. Something was very wrong in her head and I had no idea how to make it better.

“This explains some of the sounds. That buck must have…” I said, trailing off, and remembering the head sitting in my bags. Curiosity got the better of me, and rather than follow my sister, I followed the trail until it disappeared. Turning a corner, I looked back at Lost. “There’s an open door, with a terminal inside,” I said. Before she could respond, I trotted down the hall and into the door.

Inside was another room nearly identical to the one Roselle had in Stable Twelve. A desk with a terminal sat against one wall, with the terminal twisted to the side. Past that I could see a bed and dresser. The bed lay half off its frame, with the sheets lying on the floor. The dresser was on its side, with a picture lying on the floor next to it. Shattered glass filled the corner of the room. Turning away from the mess, I sat down in front of the terminal. It was unlocked. Not wanting to touch it and break something, I leaned in and read what was already on the screen.

…want to get my last thoughts down. Something bad is happening, everypony is panicking and I don’t know what to do. I just wish we had sealed that Goddesses damned door when we had the chance. There are rumors there’s radiation coming in! They told us that could never happen. That this place was SAFE!

We should have learned to share and then everypony could just come over here. I know we could have, we have to live in harmony don’t we! We’re ponies. Maybe if I go over and offer to share my room with somepony from that side as a show of goodwill this will all blow over. There hasn’t been any radiation here at a█

A blinking... thing flashed at me at the end of the entry. Leaning back, I scratched at my mane. “That was weird,” I said to nopony. A massive crack ran down the side of the terminal, and the keyboard looked like somepony had tried to break it off. I looked around the room, at the bed and the broken glass. It looked almost as if whoever had been writing the entry was dragged away by force, mid-sentence. But at least now I had a better idea of what had happened.

“Never learned to share, did they?” L.A. whispered, having walked in to read over my shoulder. She looked around the room, then trotted over to pick up the picture lying on the floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she flipped it over. “It’s a mare and a stallion, they look happy.” She didn’t sound angry anymore, and had a little smile across her face. “This place might suck for you and me, but it was their world. Wonder what happened?”

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t pretty. Like you said, they couldn't learn to share or trust each other...” I said, looking down at the PipBuck. We’d always shared everything, it’s the only way we managed to survive. Even though I ended up being the one who messed up most and Lost often had to fix the situations. We shared the burden together, every time. It was only fair that meant I share the nice things I got with her. “Can we share this, too?” I held the PipBuck up. I’d share that, but the Sparkle~Cola I found was mine.

“Maybe. We kept the screwdriver for it, right? If we can find some scrap I might be able to throw a quick release latch together or something. That way we can both use it,” she answered. She set the picture down on the table, facing the bed. She turned to the door. “We should check the armory and the Overmare’s office while we’re here.”

* * *

On the way to the Overmare’s office from the residential block, we managed to find the Armory. It actually wasn’t that difficult to find, a sign pointing it out directly down the hall from the office itself. We'd have seen it even without our new PipBuck’s map. Opening the door, we found a whole lot of nothing. The room was small, full of boxes of miscellaneous paperwork about patrol schedules. Apart from the desk against the far wall and the broken terminal atop it, we couldn’t find anything useful. A gun cabinet sat open and empty. Checking the lockers next to it, we managed to find a few pairs of armored barding, but much like the clothing I’d found earlier, they were in such poor condition that they disintegrated when touched.

“Well, this room was a bust,” Lost said, holding up one of the tattered uniforms in her magic. “Whatever went down here must have been bad, if they needed...” She trailed off and looked around the empty room. “Everything...” She tossed the uniform back into the locker. “There’s not even enough for me to repair here.”

“Wish I knew the whole story,” I agreed, tapping at the casing of the terminal. Behind it was a board on the wall, full of scribbles and names. I checked the PipBuck’s clock, then looked at the board. It would have been second shift, with a pony named Blue Checker leading for the afternoon. I turned away from the board. “Oh well...”

Sharing shrugs, we left and walked down the short hallway to the Overmare’s office. The door was closed, and the terminal here already locked from somepony else trying to access it. Probably the stallion I’d shot.

“That’s annoying,” Lost muttered, her horn starting to glow. She pulled the key from Lindenleaf’s office and slid it into the door’s lock. Turning it hesitantly, the door clicked and opened. “And... that was convenient.” She slid the key back into her bags and walked inside.

The office we found was almost identical to the one Lindenleaf had in Stable Twelve, the only difference being a couch against the wall with the map. Maybe Heartleaf was the kind to splurge for guests? A shiver ran up my spine as I looked around the room, thinking of the pony who once sat there. It still felt really weird to refer to them by name. The thought wouldn’t go away though. “I wonder if they were related?” I thought out loud.

“What?” asked L.A. She walked around the desk in the center of the room and pulled a chair up to the terminals.

“Nothing,” I said, waving her back to work on the terminal. I trotted around the room, doing my customary check. Through the window, I could see an eerily empty Atrium down below, with dozens of tables pushed against the walls. Turning away from it, I dug through the couch. Stuck between two of the cushions was a single Sparkle~Cola bottlecap. I added it to my ever-increasing total.

I walked around the desk and peeked over her shoulder just in time to catch her pressing the play button with her magic. A voice spoke to us through the speaker.

“Hello, this is Scootaloo, Founder of Red Racer and vice-president of Stable-Tec speaking. If you’re listening to this, well... the world ended and you’re in one of Stable-Tec’s Stables. Considering the scale of what must have happened, I hope that everypony in the Stable realizes how lucky you are that you’re in there and still alive. Wait, do I really have to read that? It sounds like... Dammit I’m going to need to start over on this one.”

“Hello, my name is Scootaloo, founder of Red Racer and vice-president of Stable-Tec. If you’re listening to this, it means the world probably ended, and we all pray that you’ve managed to save as many ponies as possible. We founded this company in an effort to do as much good as possible even... even in the event that something terrible happened.”

“I just pray... I. Okay. This is a... these are special Stables, I hope I’m able to address both Overmares at the same time. First, I want to... apologize for what happened. While you were chosen for the positions because we believe that you will lead your respective Stables in the right direction. The fact that you are in the sealed Stable in the first place is un- unforgivable. Celestia and Luna, please… Forgive me.”

“We messed up, and we need to find a way to do things better. I hope that in time, both of these Stables, and every Stable for that matter, can find a better way. Each of you have instructions in the office desks in each Stable. They will outline the social project we have designed for you both.”

“Your job is to do better at being ponies, to learn to tolerate each other, to learn to share. This whole War started because no one, not Zebra, not Pony, learned that valuable lesson.”

“I just don’t understand why everypony has to die for this. Why can’t we just save everypony? Apple Bloom tells me that we are saving as many as we can, and that it is the most we can do. I don’t believe that... We can do better, we can be faster... I-I need to stop recording these.”

There was a lengthy pause on the tape. For a moment both Lost Art and I thought that it had finished, until the sound of sobbing broke the silence. With a sniffle, Scootaloo continued.

“Please read the sealed instructions in your offices. Please find a better way. Learn the lessons that Equestria forgot. Leave the Stables as soon as it is safe, and make... whatevers left a better world.”

The PipBuck automatically made a recording of the file, a little icon told me by flashing above the bar on the right side of my vision. I had no idea how it had done it, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to remember what I’d just heard.

“I’d hate to be in her position,” I muttered, turning away from the terminal. If this was Stable Twenty One, that meant she had to read off one of those for each and every one. I couldn’t imagine handling that sort of pressure. Still, there was a need somewhere in me, that had to find out what happened. I looked at the desk and started digging through the drawers.

“You that dedicated to finding out what happened?” asked Lost. When I nodded my head, she joined in the search silently. It didn’t take long for the two of us to dig through the entire desk and dig out the unsealed dossier. Several warnings and official looking fine print covered the front. “Here goes nothing.” L.A. lifted it in her magic and opened it, the blue haze pulling out sheet after sheet and laying them on the dusty desk in front of us. Most of what was written was Stable-Tec jargon, but the instructions on both Stable’s ‘social projects’ were clear as day, in bold print.

‘Stable 12 will begin to experience systematic simulated failure of all its systems approximately fifty years after the Stables are activated. The experimental protocol requires both Stables have independent populations that are mutually seen as distinct from one another by this time. The simulated faults will begin in the environmental systems and progress to waste processing, automation and atmospheric systems. The final system to fail will be the power system, 10 days after the simulation begins. The failure of power will begin systematically, in an effort to ‘suggest’ a direction to the residents. It must be noted that purification systems will continue to operate in limp mode regardless of the simulation.

The simulation has been designed so that it is impossible to rectify with Stable 12's allocated resources alone. PipBucks have not been issued to that population for this purpose. It is the intent that when faced with the insurmountable task and the unavoidable shutdown of their living environment, the Stable 12 residents will either a) demonstrate trust and humility by seeking assistance from Stable 21, or b) demonstrate trust and humility by evacuating to Stable 21 and integrating into that population.

In scenario a) you will find attached Addendum 1; a list of supplies and instructions necessary to repair the problem. Also attached is Addendum 2; a list of what plant equipment in Stable 21 is redundant and included expressly for the purpose of being cannibalized for the repairs of Stable 12. These Addendums are to be kept with the dossier at all times, and not to be shared with anypony.

In scenario b) it is recommended that the containment bulkhead on the basement level be sealed to maintain the narrative that the Stable is unlivable due to complete systematic failure and contamination. It must be noted that the containment bulkhead is a functional element of the Stable and will automatically seal on detection of non-simulated contamination. Once the contamination has been removed the override will disengage and the bulkhead will return to the position indicated by manual control selections.

Ten years after the simulation has completed it will become possible to reactivate Stable 12's systems from the control terminal in that Stable's Overmare's office. The office will remain accessible at all times via the concealed walkway that connects both Overmare's offices. It is at your discretion as to when/if that environment is to be reinstated, however experimental protocol requires that residents continue to believe that the Stable was unlivable in the interim and has through plausible means been rendered viable again.’

“Stable-Tec must not have counted on ponies not trusting one another,” L.A. said, as she looked through the papers. “Good job, Stable-Tec, you had unrealistic expectations. You were naive and didn't even have an emergency 'scenario C' prepared, so instead everypony failed the experiment. All they did was lock themselves up...”

“Mmm,” I muttered noncommittally in agreement, looking at my sister with a worried frown.

“In the end, the Stable itself ended up being what killed them,” Lost answered, slamming the papers down. With a swipe of her hoof, she pushed them all to the floor and pressed her forehead against the desk. “I don’t blame them for what they did... They must have grown up the same way we did, with horror stories of the War, and what other groups acted like toward strangers.”

“We don’t know that,” I said, trying to have a sliver of faith in ponies. The world was different, it wasn’t other ponies who were bad then, it was zebras. Those ponies were from that world, not the Wasteland. “Did you not trust anypony in the Stable where we were born?”

“We did... then dad...” Lost said quietly, rolling her head against the desk to look away. “What happened here was fucked up, these ponies were all dead from the start, no matter what they'd chosen, they’d have backstabbed one another for some reason eventually.” She raised a hoof and wiggled it in the direction of where she was shot. “He was a Stable pony, and he shot me.”

“Well, they’re all zombie ponies now, no matter what happened. We should go put them out of their misery,” I said, changing the subject. Nevermind I didn’t know how we could do that. “We could have wandered into that Atrium and been torn apart, and we can’t leave it that way. If anypony else came in and didn’t know...” The head in my bag felt heavy on my side. Somepony else had wandered in here, and it was me, not the Stables, that killed him. This place really was a death trap, no matter how I looked at it. My heart sank. Between the near death of my sister, the old world mysteries, and that whole... murder... thing... Today was just not my day.

The sound of grinding metal dragged me from my thoughts. Lost Art stood at the side of the desk, her hoof in the air where it had been a moment ago.

“I found the path,” Lost said as the desk rose above us. A panel in front of it slid away, revealing a staircase downwards. Lights that hadn’t been used in a century sputtered to life, illuminating the tunnel and my sister’s face with an amber glow. Lost nodded at me.

* * *

The walk through the tunnel was entirely uneventful. The path was completely barren, without so much as scuff marks on the floor, as if it’d never been used. At either end, we found a small ante-chamber for the Overmare of the opposite Stable to wait, complete with a sign inlaid into the wall that read ‘NO ENTRY.’ The words still glowed in a red light under the Stable Twelve office, even though no Overmare had been in the office in ages. Lost Art hit the switch to open the pathway, but nothing happened.

“Being set to no entry must lock it from this end,” Lost said, poking at the glowing sign with a hoof.

“Take apart and try and override it? I don’t know,” she answered with a shrug. With one of the screwdrivers I’d taken from the maintenance room, she went to work on the paneling.

I sat to watch, as for several minutes she tinkered and tugged, working over wires and little electronic parts. “Need help?” I asked, feeling completely useless.

“Actually, I might. Let me see the PipBuck” she said, grabbing my foreleg in her magic. “I think I can get in with this, just like getting into a terminal.” She pulled a cable from the open panel and plugged it into the PipBuck. Holding my leg up at an awkward angle, she tapped away with a hooftip at the buttons and screen attached to me.

“Will this take long?” I asked, twisting around to get comfortable. “This is hurting my leg.”

“Shh, I need to concentrate,” she said calmly, focusing on the little screen. “Really wish I had something to actually type on.” She kept tapping away, brushing her mane out of her eyes as she worked.

I wobbled slightly, my legs starting to hurt. I’d stood still longer than I cared to, with my leg twisted unnaturally. Between trying to shift my weight to the other side without losing my balance, and trying to not get distracted and lower my leg, it was unbearable. With a sudden screech, the desk above us lifted itself away to allow access up the flight of stairs. “Eep!” I yelped, caught off guard by the noise breaking the silence, and toppled over to the side. The PipBuck, still attached, twisted me around and I landed on my back with a thud. “Ow...”

“You okay?” Lost asked, offering a hoof to help me up. Her horn lit up, and she pulled the cable from the PipBuck.

“Just surprised,” I said, grabbing on and pulling myself back to my hooves. “Let’s just go up.”

Having seen Stable Twenty One, a pristine example of Stable-Tec construction, suddenly Stable Twelve looked… rotten. I hadn’t noticed before, but the walls were covered in rust, and cobwebs were everywhere. Living in the Wasteland, I’d gotten used to the terrible conditions of everything. This Stable looked like it had been banished to the Moon for a thousand years, while the other looked as if it had been built yesterday. The contrast was a bit jarring. I wondered, maybe this Stable had been designed to deteriorate faster, to help with the illusion Stable-Tec wanted the ponies here to experience? Or maybe their worksponyship was just terrible if there wasn’t constant upkeep?

Was it really so hard to learn to just ask for help? All of this could have been avoided, but I guess ponies never change. It’s not like they were dealing with raiders or slavers, they were Stable ponies who could have helped other Stable ponies. It should have been easy.

Then again... Stable ponies killed dad, so maybe they weren’t any different...

I looked about and saw I was standing in the gleaming and shiny patch of floor beneath the elevated desk. I stepped out onto the dust covered floor as she hit the button to lower the desk. Grinding along its gears, the floor panel slid shut and the desk lurched downward. When everything came to a rest, Lost started poking about the drawers underneath.

“What’re you looking for?” I asked, hopping up and looking over the desk at her.

“I want to see if this Stable had a dossier like the other one,” she answered, pulling open another drawer. Inside was a thick envelope with no dust underneath. “This might be it...” She picked up the envelope with her magic and looked it over. ‘Do Not Open’ was printed across the front, with scribbled fine print underneath that I couldn’t make out. Lost hovered it closer to her face, adjusted her glasses, and squinted. “It says to open only in the event of equipment failure in the maintenance levels with several consequences listed for anypony who might open it early.”

“Well, there were equipment failures, so I guess we can open it. You can be the Overmare this time,” I teased.

Lost smirked at me, tore the seal off, and pulled the paperwork from inside. While she read it, I tried to piece together the timeline of what might have happened. Couldn’t this have all been avoided? What happened to keep Lindenleaf from reading it, and why’d all the ponies assume the worst? This place was just a death trap where ponies had been given the chance to learn a lesson, and decided against it.

I turned away from the desk and walked over to the window that overlooked the Atrium below. In the corner of my eye was a sea of red, indicating the hundreds of feral ghouls that had been locked in a room for decades. Now that the lights were on, I could make out every individual pony. The doors were all closed. I prayed they would stay that way. With the power back on, we stood the chance of one zombie accidentally opening a door and the possibility they’d find and overwhelm us.

I wanted to put an end to their suffering, to let them pass on. They milled about, mindlessly herding. There were so many of them, more than I had bullets for. There was no way I could get them all. I looked back at the saddle bag hanging under my rifle. “Would you have done the same?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” I answered, not quite sure myself. I stared at the central pillar of the Atrium, which they’d designed to look like a tree with the support beams for the ceiling as its branches. The whole room was designed the same, maybe to give ponies an idea of what the world outside once looked like. It was a nice touch, but I had a better use for it.

I took a step back and braced myself, raising the gun at my side to the window. Aiming for the crack in the glass I'd made earlier, I bit down and fired. Even braced, the kick was enough to force my hooves back along the floor. The window shattered, raining glass down into the Atrium. Beyond, metal sheared away from the pillar where the bullet struck leaving crumbling concrete.

The zombie ponies below erupted into absolute chaos, with all turning their attention to the window. They moved together, all swarming to the wall to try and reach me, mouths biting and cloudy white eyes staring unblinking at me.

I dimly heard her over the ringing in my ears. From the corner of my eye, I saw my sister barely peeking over the Overmare’s desk at me, her eyes wide and her hooves covering her ears. Without answering, I bit down again. My gun erupted with an earsplitting BOOM.

The bullet blew through the column near where my first shot hit. Shredded metal and shattered concrete fell to the floor below. I fired again.

We’d lost our mother years ago and had grown up in the Wasteland, we knew to have faith in each other, to share and work together. I fired again. Why couldn’t these ponies learn? A pony can’t survive all alone. I fired again. It wasn’t fair, to force generations of ponies to suffer over the problems their ancestors created. I fired again. Not in the Wasteland, and not here.

The six shots tore through the pillar as the zombies stared up at me in confusion. The barrel of my gun glowed slightly from the heat. I bit the trigger a few more times, even without anything in the barrel. The tree-shaped pillar had been shattered into pieces and began collapsing. After what seemed like forever, there was a metallic creak, followed by a loud whine.

The ceiling caved in. Without the pillar to support the weight, the ceiling buckled and crashed to the floor below. The sound was deafening. Dust, steel, and zombie parts splattered through the cracks in the falling grey steel. The little red markers in the corner of my vision darkened and disappeared, one by one. Finally they could rest.

* * *

After what happened, I didn’t feel like scavenging through either Stable. It didn’t really feel like it mattered anymore. I just felt drained and hollow, like the sense of adventure that brought us here was ripped from me. Instead of looking around more, we just left, to go home and rest. The Stables weren’t going anywhere, and we could always come back to look when we felt better. Just in case, Lost locked the door to Stable Twelve.

We trudged back through the dark cave, our path dimly lit by L.A.’s magic. The murder of the stallion and the mercy killings of the ghouls weighed on my mind. The whole excursion had been my idea and it had been a total failure. The bits and supplies I did find would never be worth this, nor would the PipBuck strapped to my forehoof. So much happened I could feel my head spinning, I just wanted to get home and work through it all.

I followed my sister absently, walking after the glow in front of me. I couldn’t help but wonder about the head in my bag. I had enough clues to find out who he was, but... I had a severed head in my bags. I’d need to do something about that, find a proper place for burial. It would start to smell soon, and carrying around a head would get ponies thinking I might be a raider. And afterward I’d need to clean all the blood from my saddlebags...

I shook my head, snapping out of it. We’d reached the edge of the cave and I could hear a quiet murmur outside. My ear flicked and I walked outside the cave first. Wait, when did I get in front of Lost?

“What?” I demanded, looking back at my sister. There wasn’t any reason to stay in that cave, after what happened. “It’s fine, the rain won’t be here for... an hour or s-ohh...” I noticed a group of stallions, dressed in ganger barding, sitting in a small group at the edge of the dead woods that met the mountain range. “Shit.” I groaned, wondering just how I missed them on the E.F.S.

The markers in the corner of my vision were all green, which I took as a good sign. They all looked just as surprised as I did. The chances of somepony walking out of the cave at this particular second must not have crossed their minds. The majority of them wore mismatched leather barding, all either dyed or painted the same sickly green as terminal screens. Every one I could see had a magical energy weapon, both the kinds that shot laser and plasma. I couldn’t imagine where they’d found so many. Every single one had a ring of pink around their left forehoof. Even though my sister and I spent our lives hiding from other ponies as a whole, even we’d learned that a band of pink or green around the fetlocks was an identifier for a gang called The Ashen. I’d never heard of them coming this far out of the city ruins, though.

“Well...” said a voice from the back of the group. “What do we have here? A little filly out in the wilderness, just... waiting for somepony to come save her from herself?” The sarcasm in the stallion’s voice made me want to gag.

A massive orange unicorn stallion with a burnt and blackened mane stood up. He stepped around the others and walked over toward me. With a grin, he began to pace a small circle around me slowly. On his last pass, he slid his light orange tail under my chin in a disturbing caress. It smelled of so much smoke and wasteland that I could practically taste it. Worse, I could feel its greasiness through my coat.

He finally stopped circling me with his haunches right in my face. I didn’t dare say a word, instead looking away from the burning flower cutie mark on his flank, at the massive flamer tank he had strapped to his back.

“You see, it’s a... very dangerous world out there,” he said through his teeth. With a nod of his head, one of the other stallions jumped up and ran past me into the cave. “The Wasteland isn’t kind, and little fillies like you really shouldn’t be out here... all alone.”

“I believe, Ashen Hooves would just... love to meet you,” he said, pausing between words to take a deep breath. He licked his lips, his eyes roaming over me.

A yelp echoed from the cave behind me, followed by the sounds of a struggle. “‘Nother mare in here boss!” yelled the stallion.

“Oh for...” the orange unicorn groaned. He lifted the nozzle of his flamer in the yellow haze of his magic. “Come out now, before I torch the whole cave and both of you with it!”

That did the job. Lost stopped struggling and walked out behind the stallion. He pushed her to stand next to me, then backed away to stand with the rest of the group. He looked worried and stood shaking with his gun up. Their leader must not have been the kind that bluffed.

Lost and I shared a look, and I forced a weak smile. “Sorry...” I whispered. All I got in return was a glare. “Out of the frying pan, into the fire?” I joked, trying to make light of the situation. I turned and stared the stallion in the eye as Lost facehoofed from the bad pun.

“Oh yes, quite literally,” he answered, motioning to the tank of fuel strapped to his back with a forehoof, all the while flashing his forced smile. “But I suppose you noticed already.” He gave a chuckle lifting the flamer nozzle slightly, before putting his hoof back down. Unlike all the other stallions in his group, both of his forehooves had a ring of pink around them.

“What do you want?” I asked. We had no time for this, I had a pony head to bury and a home to return to.

“Oh, nothing in particular...” he muttered as he stepped closer to Lost Art, quite obviously eyeing her up and down. “We were here... just passing through.” He walked around behind her, his tail sliding along her side the whole time. Ignoring her shuddering, he continued, “You see... Ashen Hooves wanted us to look into this little cave. Something about a dragon.”

Were it not for the guns pointed at us, I’d buck the stallion in the face so we could make a run for it. Wait. “See, I wasn’t the only one who thought a dragon might be here!” I shouted, glaring at my sister for doubting me.

“It’s all nonsense, of course,” he said calmly, before Lost could snap at me. “Though, now that we’ve met... I would just love to...” He smiled at Lost, moving in closer and taking her forehoof in his. The second he touched her, L.A. jumped back. “How lovely...” he whispered.

“There’s no dragon, there’s nothing left in there,” I lied. I might not feel like digging through the Stable again today, but it was ours and I didn’t want some gang of ponies taking it up as their home so close to where my sister and I lived.

“Oh that’s fine, I’d much rather have two precious... little... fillies, myself,” he said, turning to me. “It’s quite a surprise to find anypony here. If I could just... show you our camp...” He flashed the disgusting grin again. “I’m sure I could convince you that we can be most hospitable.”

“I’m not a filly,” I argued, ignoring his offer. He wasn’t smooth, and there was no way that either my sister nor I would be drawn in by him. I shifted and raised the barrel of my empty rifle to him. In an instant, every weapon the Ashen held was aimed directly at my head.

“Now now, little fillies... calm down,” He said, waving the others away with a hoof. For a tense moment, every gun stayed on me. They finally lowered, several of the stallions looking reluctant.

“I’m not either,” Lost Art added, “and we can take care of ourselves, you creep.” Despite sounding exhausted, L.A. didn’t let her voice waver. She was looking around. I really hoped she had a plan.

He laughed, ignoring the insult. “Feisty. I like you two. Come now, we’ll have a nice little evening together. You can meet my boss, then all our other members...” He waved a hoof to the group of stallions behind him. “I’ll make sure you get a very thorough introduction.”

I stared blankly at the stallions and blinked several times. What in the... did he mean? A shiver ran up my spine.

“Judging by that gun there, it looks like you can handle a large piece...” the orange stallion said, bringing laughter and mutters of agreement from the other stallions with him. He leaned in close to me, close enough I couldn’t not smell flamer fuel on him. “Ashen Hooves is a very important pony, you see. He’s always on the look out for new talent to serve under him. To help advance our... Objectives.” He pulled back from me and looked my sister up and down, his eyes glazed and his voice thick with lust. “I could... personally introduce you both, so that you could help us with our... work.”

I looked at Lost, praying she had something planned. This sounded like a bad monologue, did he have a speech planned or was he just always creepy?

“Who you callin’ little!” yelled back one of the bigger stallions. The others laughed, one shouting, “You know she don’t mean your height.” The bigger stallion responded by hitting that pony in the jaw.

Lost ignored them, though she grit her teeth. “Search the cave if you want, but there’s nothing worthwhile in there,” she said, turning to me. “We’re leaving, come on.” Lost sidestepped the stallion and walked off.

“Oh, but you see...” he said, stepping back and blocking her path. “I was interested in who or what might be inside, not the location. If you two are the only ponies that are going to come out, then I’m... interested in you.” He pointed the nozzle of his flamer back and forth between my sister and me, as if to emphasize his point. With a quiet chuckle, he pulled it back and latched it to its fuel tank.

It was time for a different approach, given the gangers behind him muttering their agreement with his obvious intentions. I looked over at Lost and grimaced, hoping she had a plan, or that maybe she could read my mind on changing tactics.

“Listen, what did you say you were called?” Lost Art asked in the sultriest voice I’d ever heard her use.

“You can call me... whatever you want,” he answered, lowering his head and smiling at her. “My little filly. The boss calls me Seethe.” An appropriate name, but there were several other things I thought would fit him better, but saying any out loud would get me shot.

“Well, Seeeethe,” she repeated, fluttering her lashes a few times as she spoke. “You look like a big strong stallion that could protect lil’ ol’ me and my lil’ ol’ sister from the wild Wasteland.” Lost lying it on so thick only made me grimace. It played on what he wanted, but Goddesses was she overdoing it. “But we can’t just-

“Of course you can,” Seethe interrupted, as licked his lips creepily. “In fact, let’s start introductions now...” He looked back at the group of stallions and tapped his chin several times with a forehoof. “How about... Stutter Step. He’s new, and needs the practice. I’m sure he can break you in.”

“We’re fucked,” I agreed. Looking around, I desperately searched for any way we could get away. We were surrounded, outnumbered and outgunned.

“Yes, that would be the plan,” said the stallion as a smaller, blue earth pony stepped forward. With a black bandana to set him apart from the others with rings around their forelegs, he certainly fit Seethe’s explanation of being ‘new.’ That didn’t make the situation any less terrifying. “I’ll head inside so you can show these little fillies just what our organization is all about,” Seethe continued, patting the smaller pony on the head a few times. Waving a hoof, the group behind them split up, with several walking past us and into the cave. “You all, with me. The rest, you can stay here on watch.”

They took his command literally, leering at both my sister and me as they passed by.

The blue pony nodded furiously, eyes darting between Seethe and the two of us. He smiled weakly. “N-now, I-I,” he stammered, gulping and cutting himself off. Blushing, he took a step forward and raised a forehoof. “I’ll try to... Um... not be too-”

The other stallions laughed, making Seethe growl from behind us at the entrance to the cave. The blue stallion took a step back and stared at the ground.

While they were distracted containing their snickering, I launched myself at the blue stallion. “Run!” I shouted to Lost as I threw my hoof at the stuttering ganger. I caught him in the throat with the bulk of the PipBuck’s casing.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” lamented Seethe. A gout of flame erupted from his flamer’s nozzle.

I ran, only to trip and fall face first to the ground, my hoof went out from under me by the collapsing Stutter Step. I tried to scramble to my hooves but found the PipBuck tangled with the bandana around the collapsed stallion's neck. As I tugged frantically to come free, the flame whooshed searingly over my head past my sister and toward the distant treeline.

She screamed as she dove to the ground. The line of fire passed over her head. It was close, and her mane lit up a second later. She screamed and flailed her hooves in panic, rolling through the dirt frantically.

“Now you both burn!” Seethe yelled, laughing and waving the flamer nozzle through the air. He didn’t bother to aim, instead spraying fire at us and catching any of his gang that happened to be in the way.

Panicked, I ripped my hoof free, and scrambled out of the way of his flames. I swore I could see the dancing flames reflecting in his eyes. He was a complete psychopath.

As the jet of liquid fire swept past me, I made a break for it. All around me I could hear the gangers laughing and screaming, those who weren't on fire mocking those that were. “Lost!” I shouted, throwing myself over her. Desperately, I tried to smother the flames. Precious seconds were wasted as I stamped out the fire. Her mane was almost completely gone. I couldn’t be delicate, it’d grow back.

“You lot, dust them!” Seethe ordered as we got to our hooves and ran for the woods. “Now!” With that command, several of the stallions he led all started after us, hollering and firing. The Wasteland lit up green and pink as magical energy flew past us. The blasts tore through trees and dirt in front of us, leaving scorched lines where they struck. “The rest of you, inside!”

The treeline was too far away, and the gang ponies too close. I didn’t know how we’d make it. Behind me I could hear the other stallions rallying and yelling in agreement. The sound of their hooves hitting the dirt terrified me, but I didn’t dare look back. I just ran behind my sister, praying to the Goddesses.

“Shotgun on the purple one!” yelled another. Looking back, I caught him aiming a plasma pistol right at me. A B-KEW cut through the air when he fired, and a surge of magical energy flew past me, only to smash against one of the dead trees. The tree didn’t turn to ash or goo like a pony would when hit with plasma. Instead, it started to burn.

Lost weaved around it, breathing heavy. She shrieked when the trunk exploded, spraying flaming shards in all directions. Several pink beams of magical energy lanced around us, filling the air with PLZ-OW after PLZ-OW. Even through the sound of weapons fire, Seethe’s horrific laughter seemed to chase after us.

Something grabbed my tail as I made it to the tree line, and I heard myself yelp in surprise. My hooves dug against the dirt, slipping over it and getting nowhere. I grabbed onto a trunk with my forelegs, feeling my hind legs lift into the air. I held on for dear life, kicking at whoever had grabbed me. One kick connected with something, I didn’t dare look. I just needed to get free, get away from the fire and the stallions. If they dragged me back...

I fell to the ground, the stallion grunting. “Lost!” I screamed, scrambling forward. A pink beam cut past me and part of my mane fell to the ground with a sizzle and a lung-full of noxious smoke. I didn’t give the time for another shot. Running around the tree, I chased after my sister, following the trail of smoke coming from her mane. All around me, where shots landed, the trees started to smoke and smolder. Whatever magic powered those guns, it was going to burn the whole dead forest down.

“Running only makes us want it more!” yelled somepony close behind me. Goddesses, was there anything that’d make them want it less? Heavy breathing, and hooffalls on the dirt, they were getting louder and louder. Behind me, beside me. I saw them running alongside me, through the trees. Reds, blues, pinks, coats and manes. Grins and hungry looks.

“Ahh!” I screamed, as I was knocked toward them from the other side. I slammed into another tree, but didn’t fall. Thank you, Celestia, Luna. I kept moving, only to end up face first into the side of the pink-maned stallion I’d seen eyeing me through the trees. Skidding to a stop, I looked up at him. How’d he get past me? Panicking, I ducked, and ran underneath, through his legs. Luckily, I wasn’t the tallest pony around, and barely made it.

“Wha- Hey! Get back here!” he shouted as I passed through. The others were closing in, weaving through trees to cut off every escape route. The unicorn I ducked under swung his gun with his magic through the air, hitting me at the base of an ear. It hurt, but at least he wasn’t shooting at me.

As if to punish me for thinking that. The sky lit up with fire again. The roar of Seethe’s flamer filled my ringing ears, and the trees above and around me burst into flame. I pushed myself, turning to head into the deeper woods, through the thin gaps between the trees. Behind me, voices yelled in frustration as I got further away, where the bigger ponies couldn’t follow. I dared look back.

Behind me was a ring of fire, dead trees burning in an inferno, with ponies dodging the burning patches and looking for ways to follow us. Seethe's flamer ignited the already smoldering trees, turning the forest into a deadly maze. He charged after me, cutting through the flames as if he couldn’t feel them. It looked like he belonged in it, with smoke coming from his mane and his coat, and the nozzle of his flamer wildly streaming fire all around. A half-dozen ponies followed him, all wide-eyed and grinning wickedly. “Faster!” he shouted, waving the flamer toward his gang.

One unlucky pony got caught in the fire, and went down screaming in pain. He toppled over, rolling head over hooves and slammed into a fallen log. In an instant, it lit up just like the rest of the forest. With the ponies firing haphazardly, with Seethe’s fires burning, there wouldn’t be much of a forest left. Flames jumped from tree to tree, branch to branch, chasing after Lost and me just as fast as the Ashen were.

“Oh Goddesses,” I panted, forcing myself to run as fast as I could. I followed the little glimpses of purple ahead of me, trailing my sister’s tail as I dodged back and forth through the smaller and smaller gaps between the trees. If we just kept running, kept dodging, we could get free. They were bigger ponies, we were deep enough. Once we lost them, we’d...

I kept running, praying they wouldn’t find a way to catch us and would give up.

* * *

I slowed from a gallop to a trot, my ears twisting back to listen. I couldn’t hear anypony following us, or the sound of their weapons firing anymore. We’d lost them, making the scratches from dodging trees worth it. Finally feeling a little safe, my hooves went out from under me, and I faceplanted into the dirt.

Lost turned around and looked at me, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “We have to hide,” she whispered, looking past me, back the way we came. “Now.” Her mane was almost completely gone, with only frazzled and charred remains hanging from the back of her head and her neck. “We can't risk leading them back home.” She started to pace, muttering to herself. “We have a map now, so we can...” She paused and looked back the way we came again. “The Stables are... and we came from...” She sighed. “They’re going to be right in our path no matter what.”

With a groan, I pushed myself up to a sitting position. “We’ve got other hiding places,” I said, wracking my brain to think of one that might be safe. “Or...” I looked down at the PipBuck. The bandana Stutter Step had been wearing was wrapped around the casing, twisted in the hinge. That must have been what I got stuck on... when I kicked him in the-- “Oh no, did I kill another pony today...” I thought out loud. It was just a bandana, that didn’t mean anything. He was a raider or ganger or whatever anyway, one less bad pony in the Wasteland. Pulling it free with my teeth, I dropped it to my hoof and offered it to L.A. “Here, for your mane? Until it grows back?”

Lost’s eyes opened wide, her jaw tightening. “My... my what?” she asked stiffly, her foreleg slowly, jerkily raising up to gently pat the red hairless patch on top of her head. She winced when her hoof touched it, and she looked away from me. Eyes downcast, she solemnly lifted the bandana with her magic. She slumped down across from me and wrapped it around her head, just above her horn. What remained of the purple mane poked through at the back, and hung down on either side of her face. Altogether, it didn’t look... bad, well, except for the self-conscious look on her face.

“It’s a good look for you,” I said, forcing a smile. “It umm, brings out your eyes.”

After a long pause, she smiled. “Thanks...” she whispered. “We still need to find somewhere to go, somewhere not out in the open. Hideaways are fine I guess.”

“What about the towns on the PipBuck,” I said, remembering that I still had the stallion’s... head in my bag. If we couldn’t go home yet, then a little detour couldn’t hurt. “Resupply, sell off some of the stuff we found. That bag of bits, remember? Somepony might want it.” I’d rather keep it to line my bed, but that wasn’t an option at the moment. “Plus there’s, y’know, that stallion...” I said, muttering about the pony from the Stable and staring back at my saddlebags.

“What about him?” she asked, her tone more annoyed than sad now. “You need to drop it, and forget about him. He shot me, sis, you could be all alone right now. He's not worth the thought, he got what he...” She trotted slowly towards me. “What are you staring at?”

“Well, I couldn’t carry the whole body!” I yelled back. “It’s not like you were going to help me.” I stood up and trotted away from her.

Running forward, she jumped in front of me. “You kept the head, of the stallion who put a bullet through me, to give him a burial?” she asked, pausing and jabbing me in the chest for emphasis. “Keeping a lock of his mane as a damn trophy, his cutie mark, his fucking cock would have been less weird. Get rid of it!”

“I will!” I said, stepped away from the jabbing. “And that’s really gross.” I laughed, wondering why she’d think I would have kept any of those. “What would I have done with a severed dick? He’s dead. Am I supposed to wave it around to freak out other ponies?” I laughed some more. “We’re not raiders.”

Lost blinked several times and cracked a smile. “Says the mare carrying around a severed head,” she said. “Joking aside, he wasn’t a good pony. He tried to take my head off, and burying even a part of him is more than he deserves.” Reaching down, she grabbed my hoof and lifted the PipBuck to look at the screen.

I sat, letting her hold my hoof up and stared at the ground. I hadn’t meant to make her mad by bringing it up again.

“Fine...” Lost sighed after a long pause. “Bury that damn thing, and we’ll go to one town on this map. We need to find somewhere to go that won’t get us killed, or worse, by that psychopath and his stallions anyways,” she compromised. “After that, we circle around and head home.” I could see the gears turning in her head already.

“I agree to your terms,” I said, smiling. Placing a hoof on her shoulder, I stepped closer and hugged her. “And the bandana does look good.” Hopefully, the agreement would placate her. Releasing her, I looked at the markers in the corner of my eyes. “Ready?”

She nodded. “Yeah... Let’s- Oww!” she said, cut off as a drop of rain landed right on her nose. Crossing her eyes, she looked at it. She opened her mouth to say something, only to be cut off by another droplet hitting her right between the eyes. More rain started to fall around us, first a light sprinkle, but it got heavier by the second. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Together we ran off, through the dead, leafless trees to find somewhere to hide out the coming downpour.

* * *

The rain came down hard, bad enough that we couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of us, and spend the entire storm under a rocky outcropping we’d found. Thankfully, after what felt like hours, it finally let up to a more agreeable drizzle that Lost decided was light enough for us to head out into. We walked the line between the mountain and the forest in silence, following the marker on the PipBuck’s compass.

Without us talking, everything felt eerie. I was used to a dead world, but this far away from civilization I couldn’t even hear the distant echoing of sporadic gunfire that I’d grown so used. The only sound in the air was that of our hooves squishing into the mud. On the E.F.S., I didn’t see any little markers apart from Lost’s green one. It was nice though, meaning we could take our time to walk through and recover from the ordeal. Really, I was just glad to be out of the Stable, and away from its hard steel floors.

The only thing that broke up the monotonous walk was an gap in the mountainside, between two peaks. I’d seen it before, an old caravan path that traders used, left by the ponies who lived here before the world ended. As we passed it, I looked through the gap between the mountain peaks, but didn’t see anything showing up on my E.F.S. Breathing a sigh of relief, I kept forward, following my sister.

The sun was going down, gently sinking below the cloud cover that always hovered above us. Through the gap in the mountain pass I could see a sliver of orange sky at the base of the horizon. Hopefully, we’d find a place to sleep for the night, if we couldn’t make it to the town.

“We lost too much time waiting out the rain,” Lost said, stopping once we reached the far side of the pass. “How much further?”

I stopped next to her and sat down to rest my hooves. Lifting the PipBuck, I started to poke at the buttons with my forehoof, looking for the map. “Let me look,” I muttered, tapping another button. The writing on the screen vanished, then reappeared, showing what was in my saddlebags. A little ‘Repair’ button flashed. “Hey, this thing can repair stuff... somehow.” I offered the screen to her.

“That doesn’t answer my question, sis,” Lost chided, looking down at the screen. “The PipBuck doesn’t actually do the repairs, it just shows what parts are still usable in broken stuff. Now I regret throwing my gun away... If I’d known we would find a PipBuck, I’d have kept it.”

“You couldn’t have known,” I said with a shrug. I pressed one of the buttons under the screen to switch over to the map. “You could fix the gun that Goddesses-damned trader sold me, if you want. I mean, I could do it, but, y’know.” I tapped my forehead a few times. “You and your cheater magic.” I wasn’t ever any good at working a screwdriver with my teeth, and couldn’t really hold one with a hoof. I was just as bad at fixing things as I was at opening locks, all I was really good for was breaking things.

“Sorry!” I said, sulking down. The map lit up the PipBuck’s screen and I showed it to her again. “Not far.” There was only one thing to do before we got there. I looked up from fetlock-mounted device. Really, this was as good a place as any. A nice forest, quiet and away from the chaos in the city proper. It’d be a nice grave site.

I slid my saddlebags off and sat in front of them. Reaching in with my hooves, I pulled out the head of the Wastelander out and looked at him. His jaw hung limply, and I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes, even if he couldn’t look back anymore. “Why was that town marked on your map?” I asked the head. “Were they expecting-”

“Hidden, you’re talking to a dead, decapitated head,” Lost said, cutting off my talking to myself. “It’s creepy and fucked up. Dead ponies can’t answer your questions. They’re gone.” She grabbed my chin with her hoof and made me look at her. “He was a bad pony. Just go put his head in the dirt and let’s go.”

“I just want to know for sure if he was a good or bad pony, and that town? It might be able to give me an answer,” I said, pulling my head free and looking back at his blank eyes. “I’m scared, too. What if they liked him, will they be mad that I murdered him, or will they cheer?” I stood up on three legs and walked through the dead forest. “I’ll be a few minutes, okay?”

“Do you need help?” Lost asked, looking over the rims of her glasses. “You might be insane to do this, but I won’t make you do it alone.”

“I just wish I had stopped to ask why,” I answered, walking further away. “I will find out who you are,” I said to the severed head. “If you were a good pony, I’ll make up for this.” I pressed my forehead to the head’s, by now it was as cold as the air around us. I sighed and gave Lost a real answer. “I need to do it alone. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

After some walking, I found a place that felt right. I didn’t know what it was about it, but it seemed like a nice place for a burial, regardless of whether he was good or not. I set the head at the base of the rotting tree, took a step back, and began to dig. It was a slow process, the soft mud falling back into the hole as I dug. Hooves weren’t meant for digging, and by the time I’d made a deep enough hole, my legs were covered in mud, mixed in with the dried blood from earlier.

Satisfied that he’d fit and be covered completely, I carefully picked the head up and lowered him down. He stared up at me from the dirt, his eyes unfocused and empty. I felt tears roll down my cheeks. I didn’t want to cry, and I knew Lost would yell at me for it. She had every right, but it just felt wrong to end a life like that, no matter what. Mom would...

I sat down and hung my head. I whispered a quiet prayer to Celestia and Luna. They’d know what to do with him, if he were good or bad. It was out of my hooves now. They were Goddesses, they’d do the right thing.

I pushed the loose dirt over the remains, and carved a marker into the tree with my hooves. I made a simple X, like my cutie mark. It wasn’t as fancy, but it was a marker I’d recognize nonetheless. As I finished, the PipBuck overlay in my vision flashed, making a marker on the compass for me. Now I’d never forget where it was...

We turned to Pommel Falls without another word, and as night fell, we walked forward.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote: Level Up!

Hidden Fortune:
New Perk: Good Listener – You’ve proven you can follow instructions in life threatening situations, and as a result receive a bonus to skills when performing with assistance from somepony else. Yay teamwork!

Lost Art: (2 levels)
New Perk: (Lvl1) New Perk: Extra Special (Rank 1) – Not every mare lives through getting shot in the throat. Lady Luck shines on you tonight! +1 Luck!
New Perk: (Lvl2) New Perk: Momma’s Filly (Rank 1) – Being taught how to survive, you can even coach others in what to do, +5 to Medicine and Science skills per rank.

Quest Perk: PipBuck: You found a PipBuck! It has all sorts of old world technology to help you with both combat and keeping track of the Wasteland around you. Use it wisely.

“Wait, why did I get two?”
“You didn’t get a level in the first chapter because you were almost dead at the time, so you get two now.”
“Ohh... Is that really how it works?”
“Sure, whatever.”

Fallout Equestria: Treasure Hunting

by Hnetu

Chapter 2: Lessons Learned