//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2: Building 
// Story: Zombies on Your Farm 
// by Skjald 
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What should you know about zombies? They're slow, exceedingly clumsy, and quite fragile, yet remarkably strong. Therefore, if you fail to keep your distance from them, they will quickly tear you apart. This problem was solved by our flora, which was enhanced with magic specifically to engage in an unequal battle with the undead hordes. However, even this approach wasn't a perfect solution. It would be foolish to deny that our magical garden could barely maintain parity, and not every plant survived another attack. When these creatures appeared, they came in large numbers, and their assaults were always destructive and relentless.

Our plants did their best, but due to the sheer mass of the undead horde, they managed to break through their counterattacks, despite their sluggishness, closing in on them and devouring everything in their path, from cabbages to corn. Only the roses somehow managed to survive throughout this time, although they too were severely battered in battles. Because of this, my axe had to taste the rotten flesh of zombies, and Applejack's lasso repeatedly tested their neck vertebrae, proving capable of decapitating them. At the very least, this move knocked them off their feet. Nevertheless, we tried to avoid such close encounters since each of them almost cost us our lives.

Truly, death in their vile clutches is horrible! I still can't get out of my head how three friends, who used to sell flowers in Ponyville – Lily, Rose, and Daisy, perished. I was relatively close to them. It was when I learned that these creatures feed on the brains of the living, but… there was nothing I could do about it. Oh, those three mares once helped me choose the roses that now guarded the yard to the south of the barn. I bought them for Applejack… of course, just to suggest diversifying the farm's flora with something decorative and beautiful. She didn't immediately grasp the meaning of my idea, but eventually gave her approval…

In these thoughts, I was driving nails into the bottom of a wide wooden trough to secure it on the log. It was an improvised tip of our enormous torch, which we had been building all day, even postponing our usual daily work of finishing the autumn harvest. Soon, a fire had to be ignited in this vessel, which would serve as proof to the residents of Canterlot that we were still holding on. As soon as I stopped hitting the nail head with a hammer, I heard a question from below:

"Is it fastened?"

Lowering my gaze, I spotted Applejack in the same place where she had been waiting all this time while I completed my part of the work. There was a five-meter height between us.

"Seems like it."

"Does it seem that way, or is it for sure?"

Here it is – Apples' typical thoroughness in everything related to such an important job as construction. And this ginger pony was more dedicated to it than even all her relatives. Carefully rocking the trough in different directions, I vividly demonstrated to her the result of my work.

"Sure thing."

"Alright," the pony in the hat assessed with satisfaction. "If that's the case, then take the hay!"

With these words, she started to walk around the base of the torch. Watching her for just a second, I spontaneously began to evaluate our structure. Essentially, it was nothing more than a log from the trunk of a regular young tree, dug into the ground a couple of meters deep. To obtain it, along with all the other materials except for the hay and trough, we had to take a risky walk to the edge of the Everfree Forest earlier today. Luckily, there were no monsters there yet; the zombies were hiding somewhere deep in the thickets, seeking shade from the sun. Therefore, I had time to work with my axe.

Once the trees were chopped down, my partner and I had to drag them with great effort all the way to the Sweet Apple Acres. Perhaps we would have finished this work much earlier if Applejack had carried them on her own while I was felling wood. But in the current conditions, we never risked splitting up. We spent the morning gathering materials, and then construction began. Smaller logs were used as supports for the main trunk, ensuring it wouldn't topple due to the strong autumn winds, which were quite common this time of year, or for any other reason.

And so one thick log was supported on all sides by six more. Additionally, a much shorter pole was secured directly under the trough as a crossbeam for a makeshift crane. A rope was slung to the right of it, to which a wooden platform was attached, while on the left side, a counterweight in the form of an apple barrel was fastened. With the help of this contraption, the hay destined to become fuel for the torch had to be hoisted up. That was the task Applejack intended to perform, heading toward the respective rope wound around the stake. After all, carrying it up bit by bit on the ladder where I stood would have been time-consuming and inconvenient.

To our misfortune, it started to rain around an hour before evening, causing both the ground and the wood to get soaked, along with the hay. This not only complicated our work but could also pose an obstacle to kindling the fire… if it weren't for our solar water. As practice showed, it was quite flammable, and it was connected to the incident when our pigsty burned down to ashes. So, I wasn't concerned about the flames. Something else was bothering me, but before I could dwell on it again, my attention was drawn to the farmer, who began her task.

Untied with her teeth the knot that was fastened to the stake driven into the ground, Applejack began to pull the rope with all her might, attempting to hoist the hay-laden pallet up to my height. Until then, it had been secured just half a meter above the ground. Despite their relatively small size, these little ponies were quite strong, especially the earth ponies. Moreover, my friend was toughened by rural labor, so the load confidently ascended. However, as soon as she lifted it a couple of meters, one of her hooves awkwardly slid on the soggy ground, causing her to lose control of the situation.

"Jackie!" spontaneously escaped from my lips, while she emitted only a muffled scream through clenched teeth.

The hay pallet instantly crashed to the ground, causing Applejack, who had maintained her grip due to the tension, to be lifted upward to about halfway between the base of the torch and its top. Her hat flew off her head, and she dangled like a pendulum on the rope, clearly stunned by what had just happened.

After the cargo thundered onto the soggy ground, absolute silence fell all around, as if life had hit pause. It's a good thing the pallet didn't shatter. No doubt, one should never work outdoors right after the rain unless it's an emergency. And my partner was probably thinking the same thing… if, of course, she managed to shake off the not-so-pleasant experience of a sudden two-meter lifting so quickly.

"Wait, I'm coming," I announced, hurrying to assist her immediately.

I moved from the ladder to the crossbar where the rope was attached and tried to get my friend out of her quite literal suspended state. Descending onto the log, I wrapped my legs around it as tightly as possible and tried to lift the fallen pallet towards me. Naturally, I understood that I was doing something blatantly foolish. However, in everyone's life, there are moments when they realize they're up to who knows what but continue anyway.

The hay pallet was quite heavy, although hoisting it was not an impossible task. However, my awkward position, combined with the moisture that had soaked into the wood, making it slippery, played a nasty, albeit expected trick on me. Because of the weight I was strenuously pulling towards me, I suddenly spun around the crossbeam, and my descent began in an instant, while my partner's ascent continued. In a fraction of a second, I managed to notice that she was about to collide with the pole. To prevent that, I released the rope at the last moment. Luckily, I landed right on the hay.

After experiencing a relatively soft landing, I instantly rose to my feet and glanced at Applejack. She remained suspended on the rope at the same height as before my failed attempt to resolve the situation. I immediately rushed to help her, this time more effectively, and within a few seconds, my outstretched arms were around her waist. She was tense but not clenching the rope with her teeth in a death grip, which made it relatively easy for me to take her down and set her on the ground.

"Are you okay?" I immediately expressed my concern. Meanwhile, I picked up her hat and, after shaking off its slightly dirtied edges, placed it back on her head.

"I'm fine," she exhaled and finally raised her eyes to me. "And y'alright? Ain't hurt, are ya?"

"No," I shook my head. After a brief moment of silence, a soundless chuckle escaped me involuntarily. "If someone saw our acrobatics just now, they probably wouldn't believe that we've been surviving zombie attacks all this time."

"Yup, that was somethin', all right," she chuckled back, a bit nervously. Catching her breath, she changed the subject with a good-natured smile. "How 'bout we give that another shot together?"

Certainly, I accepted her offer without hesitation. With four hooves and two sets of teeth (not to mention four legs), we got the job done faster, more efficiently, and with greater confidence. Once the pallet was hoisted to the top of the torch, we secured the rope with another stake, and it was time for the hay. I climbed back up the ladder and began moving the fuel for the fire into the trough, while my ginger companion waited below, keeping an eye out for any potential threats. After all, those dead creatures hadn't attacked us for three days straight, and such a lull usually meant only one thing – a storm was brewing.

The hay was laid out, drenched with the sunwater I'd prepared in a flask on my belt, and all that remained was to strike a match. There were plenty left in my matchbox, brought from Earth, and I used one to ignite the flame. Once the deed was done and the torch was burning, I descended and quickly stowed the ladder against the barn wall, near the northwest corner where we had constructed our contraption. In the meantime, I noticed that our little company had just been joined by Winona, who had previously been running around in the carrot beds but was now drawn, perhaps, to the newly lit fire.

Sitting at the base of a small haystack, where we gathered hay for the fire, AJ gazed at the top of the torch with a growing sense of inspiration, as if it intensified as the fire lit up. I repositioned the ladder back to its original spot and watched her in awe. She appeared as if she had come back to life, as if she were looking at the spark of our shared hope. A faint smile even crossed her face when she saw the flames reach higher and higher towards the twilight sky. Following her lead, something made me smile too. Well, it had always been heartening for me to see her even a bit happier, especially in these dark times.

After about half a minute, I caught myself blatantly staring at her. And when she suddenly turned to look at me out of the blue, I pretended to make a final adjustment to the ladder and stepped away from the barn wall to join her. Soon, I sat down next to her, and together we stared at the fire. Although at times, I lowered my gaze below and ran it along our structure. In bygone days, I wouldn't even have believed it was possible to build something like this in just one day, including material acquisition. I'd never been a jack-of-all-trades, so in the past, even this unimposing tower would have seemed like a sufficiently challenging project to take at least a week.

During our solitary stay on Sweet Apple Acres, we often found ourselves building various structures. We erected additional storage units for our harvested crops, rebuilt the burned-down pigsty, covered the chicken coop walls with whatever metal sheeting made from whatever we could find in Ponyville houses to keep the zombies from tearing them down and feasting on our chickens, and much more. While I had to learn the ropes of this craft through practice, my friend was just as skilled at it as she was with apples. Well, her skills and organizational abilities in this matter were incredibly valuable to us, and it was thanks to her that we managed these construction projects so swiftly.

Finally, I gazed at the fire once again. Inside me, like the fire, a pleasant sense of accomplishment warmed. Now, I understood more and more why my partner loved working. But, perhaps, above all, it was the faint hope that kept me going, even if it was just a shadow of it, but we could reasonably expect it to come true. Even though it seemed nearly impossible, considering we had been cut off from the rest of the world for over a month. I didn't know the reason for the silence from Canterlot, but I wanted to believe that everything would be clarified soon, and someday we would remember this circumstance as just a notable incident from our past.

"Here we sent our message," I suddenly said, deciding to break the silence after a few minutes.

"Them lights in Canterlot still a-shinin'?" Applejack immediately inquired.

We exchanged glances. Yes, from the top of the torch, Canterlot was visible beyond the sea of the northern apple orchard canopies. The only place not visible was Ponyville, as its houses were nestled in a valley just beyond the high hills. The best vantage point, where you could see the entire Ponyville valley, was from the terrace of the carrot farm building, adjacent to the Apples' estate and not even separated from it by a fence. In the past, a pony named Golden Harvest lived there, but she and her whole family moved to Canterlot along with everyone else. Since then, both farms had effectively become one.

However, while on top of the torch, I saw the most important thing. Therefore, my answer was prompt and precise:

"Yes, they are."

I couldn't stop looking at Applejack as she once again fixated on the flame, but this time with a shadow of sadness on her face. It seemed as if the flickers from the torch were attempting to ward off the encroaching darkness that loomed over her. In vain.

"Ah hope they're all right," she whispered quietly, expressing her deepest wish. She hadn't often spoken about the feelings that filled her, but after our conversation yesterday, she seemed more inclined to share. "Ya know, Ah afraid them lights might just be foolin' us. If yer right about them zombies hittin' Canterlot, those lights could be on 'cause there ain't nopony left to douse 'em. But if that's true, then…"

Unable to complete her words, she merely swallowed convulsively. It was not difficult to understand what emotions she was experiencing and who she was primarily concerned about at the moment.

"So you believe there's no one left alive there?" I asked, thinking that she needed to express herself. I had suspected earlier that this fear was tormenting her. Looking at me again, her expression softened slightly.

"Yup, a plumb silly thought," the pony in the hat conceded. "If day an' night keep takin' turns, it's a sign them Princesses are alive for now. An' if they're alive, Canterlot's gotta be alive in there too."

"And as long as Canterlot lives, Equestria lives," I replied with irony and a touch of nostalgia, referencing a similar saying from my world.

"Right, like a ripe apple!" affirmed the ginger mare, gracing me with yet another sweet smile. With her agreement, she seemed to be seeking more confidence for herself and from me. Still, doubts lingered. "On t'other hoof, they might've trotted off somewhere else, like the Crystal Empire or who knows where. Ah got no clue 'bout how t' explain why day an' night are still doin' their usual switcheroo while Canterlot's quieter than a scarecrow in th' orchard. But… how could they have up and left the city, leavin' us here on our lonesome?"

"Unless they marked us as deceased before leaving," I countered, hinting at my assumption from yesterday regarding the fire. Her mournful gaze returned to me, yet not a single counter-argument escaped her lips. I had to come up with one myself. "But I don't think, at the very least, your friends wouldn't have made sure of that before fleeing. They would have definitely sent someone for us, or they would have found their way here themselves."

"Right, Rainbow Dash would fer sure flown over to us, an' Twilight too," Applejack said, trying to suppress her inner worry. "But, y'know, they might not even be in Canterlot. The girls wanted to round up all the ponies to tackle this disaster all together. Right now, they could be anywhere, in any corner of Equestria. Although, if they pull it off, Ah reckon we won't have to wait long for help. With all of 'em together, they're sure to figure out how to get us out of here. With so many heads, they're bound to!"

"That's when our harvest will come in handy," I added, imagining how much food the city would need when ponies from all over the country gathered.

"Yup, and now they'll know we're still kickin' and that we have it," Applejack concluded on an optimistic note. Following this, Winona approached her, interested in the reason we were sitting on the hay. She sniffed around, searching for an answer to the dog's unspoken question, and her owner embraced her, holding her gently. The dog didn't resist the owner's hug. Holding her in her hooves, Applejack returned to gazing at the fire, and after a quarter of a minute, she suddenly sighed with delight. "It's so amazin'… blazin' like that, Ah'd bet my boots ya could spot it from the Royal Palace windows. And it's got that cozy feel… kinda like Hearth's Warmin' Day!"

"Yeah," I said in solidarity with her. "It's just the company that's missing."

"Why, ain't we company, ya and me?" she kindly countered. When our eyes met again, she couldn't hold back and spoke candidly. "Thank ya for pullin' yer weight with me. Can't imagine what it'd be like if Ah were all alone here."

"I thought I was more of a nuisance to you," I quipped unseriously, alluding to the pigsty fire and a few other incidents that had happened before this catastrophe.

"Don't talk hogwash, sugarcube," she replied good-naturedly, realizing I was mostly joking. "We gotta shield the farm and the crops from them undead critters, and one pony just won't do. Like ya said, this job's for two, ya might say, it's our own seven-legged race, or maybe even a very real friendship mission! Without each other, we'd be in a real pickle. Ah'd be plum lost without ya."

To be honest, her words really touched me. And, as I could tell from her smile and the slightly trembling, beautiful eyes, she had just poured out the most sincere emotions. I could hardly come up with anything worth saying, so I simply wrapped my arm around her shoulder with all the warmth. I didn't often allow myself to hug her since she wasn't one to go for saccharine sweetness. But right now, I could count on her not objecting in the slightest. Then again, all ponies enjoyed hugging, and when it came to friends, Applejack was no exception.

It seemed like she considered me a friend through and through, which made me quite happy. This was evident from the fact that she often called me "sugarcube" in her usual manner. It was a term she typically used to refer to her best friends and relatives, and eventually, she extended that affectionate nickname to me as well. Being her "sugarcube" meant a lot.

"Thank you," I responded to her words. However, her expressions about the fire had me contemplating a bit. Now, as the two of us and the little dog huddled close to each other and warmed ourselves by the torch and our unity, it did resemble that holiday celebrated in Equestria just before the coming of the New Year. With that thought in mind, I decided to suggest something. "Speaking of Hearth's Warming Day… how about we have a mug of hot cider each? I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a bit chilly after working in the rain."

A broad smile spread across AJ's face. Clearly, she liked the idea.

"Ya got it! Just need to fetch a barrel from the cellar, and we can wet our whistles!.."




* * *


"Y'know, as Granny Smith always says, when ya see apples in the cellar, it makes ya appreciate life twice as much," Applejack remarked, walking at a leisurely pace down the central aisle of the cellar and surveying the barrels of the named fruit. I followed behind her. "All these supplies would be enough to fill everypony's belly in Canterlot for a year or more. Oh, Ah wish we could make good use of all this soon…"

"The important thing is for it to go to use at all," I calmly pointed out, surveying the results of our labors over the past month, just like she was. "Don't forget, there are plenty of reasons why we might be staying in this place for quite a while. We're not even sure we haven't lost the reason to protect this stock."

"What are ya talkin' 'bout? We done made our torch, set it ablaze, so now all that's left is for it to be seen," she firmly declared, pausing and looking back at me over her shoulder. As I shrugged in response, indicating no objections, her hooves moved on. "But no matter what, we always got a good reason to defend our stock. We can't just let them zombies have all these apples, can we?"

"I don't disagree."

We were heading towards the end of the cellar, where smaller barrels were standing. Looking at those containing apples, I couldn't help but agree that this stockpile, especially in current times, could be accurately called a treasure trove. All of it was the result of our daily work in the orchard, a workload that was almost non-stop. However, the main burden fell on my partner, who did not want to give the apples to the zombies or time itself, given that the cold weather was approaching.

Meanwhile, I was more on the pickup, though now and then I'd knock some apples from the branches with a pole too. But my contribution wasn't all that grand compared to Applejack, who knocked down nearly all of them with just a precise strike from her strong hind hooves to the trunks. But we divided the task of sorting apples by quality and delivering them to the farm equally. In one month's time, we filled up the entire cellar, with about fifty barrels stored on top inside the barn, and some stashed in the newly built sheds. There was no doubt that with such a stockpile, a hungry year could feed a whole town.

"Ya know, it's real lucky we wrapped up gatherin' from the south orchard right on time," continued the farmer. "My heart'd shatter if them critters got ahold of those apples! Ah'd rather give the harvest to the fruit bats; they're even less voracious than these zombies."

"We're almost done with the north orchard too, so you could say we've got it all taken care of."

"Hold your horses, buddy," she gently chided me for jumping to conclusions. Her little sayings always brought a smile to my face. "We've still gotta tackle 'bout a dozen apple groves, so don't go rushin' into relaxin'. It wouldn't hurt to wrap 'em up pronto 'fore them apples get all overripe. It's nearly October."

"Just two days left," I reminded.

"We'll give 'em our darndest," AJ stated, and then stopped in front of one of the smaller barrels, which she seemed to have noticed right away. After reading the notes with Granny Smith's rather crooked mouthwriting on it, she announced, "Yup, this cider is from the harvest two years ago! Ah reckon it's had a good long time to settle. It's just what we need."

"Need any help with that?" I offered right away as soon as Applejack started maneuvering the barrel to hoist it onto her back.

"Don't ya fret, sugarcube, Ah can manage it solo. Ah've toted them barrels share in my lifetime, you best believe," the ginger pony grinned, and, as she gripped it with her hooves, she added, "Well, ya warm it up, is that okay?"