"Shove an apple in my mouth and roast me on a spit!" Applejack exclaimed, gazing through the darkness and mist at what was approaching us. "It's plumb terrible! There's more of 'em here than there are Coltorado beetles on a potato!"
While keeping my eyes on the distant panorama, I stared unblinkingly at the confirmation of her words. The southern orchard stretched out in front of the farm, its trees already free of apples. The whole area was illuminated by torchlights, and nearer to its border, the first ranks of the undead were becoming visible, arranging themselves into a wedge formation to storm our gates. Since a large part of them were still milling around in the depths of the thicket, merging into a single mass, it was impossible to make an accurate count. But there were clearly more of them than before.
The first of them had already stepped onto the path, which stretched from the farm's exit, extended almost a hundred meters to the south, and then, where the apple orchard began, turned to the left, making a hook along the eastern edge of the farm towards Ponyville. And now, as they were getting very close, a sharp gust of the chilling graveyard wind hit us, accompanied by an otherworldly undulating whistle that instantly reached its climax before gradually subsiding. This marked each wave of their attack, as if it were the breath of death they carried. Sometimes, I would wake up from this eerie whistle in the middle of the night, haunting me in my fitful dreams.
There they are – a horde of walking rot, the degenerates of what was once life, craving to turn anything they could get their hands and teeth on into their likeness! They were all humanoids, yet bore little resemblance to humans – grotesque midgets about one and a half meters tall, all with the same hideous faces frozen in a look of astonishment, as if they themselves were shocked to have crawled out of their graves. They seemed to be mass-produced, which might explain their sheer numbers and sameness. Some of them wore plain clothing with identical ties and nothing more, others had outdoor boards strapped to them like armor, the third donned buckets or traffic cones on their heads, and the fourth – the particularly tall and robust-looking ones – were clad in rags and wielded clubs, likely acquired in the Everfree Forest.
Some of them held torches in their twisted fingers, which frightened both me and my friend, especially. It's amazing that they didn't accidentally set the southern orchard on fire during their march, but on the farm's grounds, such a thing could very well happen… and had happened before. This thought, coupled with increasing tension, prompted me to start doing something just as our plants made themselves known. The cabbages we had planted outside the gate on both sides in two rows simultaneously waved their stems, and their heads, now improvised projectiles, flew toward the advancing zombies. What used to be food had become our catapults.
Finally, the adrenaline inside me overcame the paralysis, and I quickly took the bow off my shoulder to join in what the plants had already started. In a second, my quiver was one arrow shorter. I had never shot a bow before these dreadful events. However, the walking dead were advancing on us in such a massive horde that I didn't need to be a Sherwood archer to hit the target. The arrowhead lodged itself in one of them, knocking his arm from its fragile joint, just as I reached for the next arrow. It was at that moment that my companion called out once again:
"Wait on the shootin', cowboy," she urged. When I cast my gaze upon her, she pointed with a hoof at the gate. "While there's still time, we gotta plant yer cabbages by the fence!"
Surveying the length of the fence and then looking up at the approaching zombies, I quickly assessed the situation. These creatures were moving slowly but surely, marching with an uneven, swaying gait. For now, the garden cabbages managed to impede their front lines, and soon the corn planted to our left also joined the fight. Well, it truly was our last chance to defend the approaches to the missile plants.
"You're right," I sighed, hanging the bow back on my shoulder. "Let's go!"
We hurriedly made our way down the slope past our last line of defense, heading towards the fence that separated our yard from the encroaching chaos and death. In the meantime, the cabbages in our garden did their best. The heads they launched rained down on the rows of zombies, making them stagger, at times knocking them off their feet, or even taking off limbs with a strong blow. Some precise throws even decapitated the creatures. But they still relentlessly pressed forward, showing no hint of self-preservation instincts and emitting chilling growls in clear anticipation of our flesh. With each passing second, their horde came closer to the fence, but before reaching this obstacle, they had to cross our front line of defense.
Right in front of the fence on either side of the path, trenches stretched, dug by the royal guards while they were still alive. Their bottoms were filled with water, and stakes protruded from the ground. We had to regularly replace them. Usually, we planted rows of first-order defense plants behind them, but this time we were running low on seedlings. So the space between the ditches and the farm's territory had been left empty since the attack two times ago. These fortifications forced the zombies, for the most part, to advance towards the gates, where they faced a barrage of pea pods and porcelain roses. Still, a few were determined and made their way through rough terrain, gradually destroying both the stakes and the fence.
Cabbages flew through the ranks of the undead, along with them came large corn kernels. However, for every fallen creature, another five emerged to take its place. While our flora could handle regular zombies with ease, those who had taken protective measures were more challenging to defeat. These well-protected zombies led the assault, serving as shields for the others. They advanced toward us like a battering ram, threatening to level the entire farm and leave no one alive, from us to the last chicken. Occasionally, as I watched some of them getting closer to the ditches, I tried to act faster.
Choosing two spots from each end of the rows of cabbage, I dug a couple of holes right in front of the fence – in the part that extended to the right of the gate, expecting that some zombies would crawl through here. Then, I planted two seedlings in them, given to me by the ginger pony, after which she watered them with her hefty watering can of solar water, which she had to carry with her in her teeth, and the miracle that was already familiar to us happened. Instantly, both vegetables grew to the size comparable to the average height of the zombies, and from their bases, two stalks extended, twisted at the ends like fists. Their newly emerged eyes immediately began searching for their first victim who required having some rotten teeth knocked out.
"Oh, yes," I muttered, seeing the result of our first planting. "We've been missing something like this all this time."
"Yup, Ah reckon they'll give them weirdos a good ol' wallop in the belly," Applejack said, mesmerized by the size of the cabbage's fist-like stems. However, our impression quickly faded when the zombies suddenly howled loudly. They were extremely close, and there was very little time left for the final preparations. "Alrighty, let's mosey on and start a-doin'! Ain't a moment to dillydally and gawk!"
Silently concurring with her, I followed as she headed briskly toward the gate, which had no wicket but was blocked by piles of crates holding various hefty junk. We repeated the process on both sides, and within a couple of minutes, there were two more bonk choy standing guard at the gate. Meanwhile, the thinning crowd of zombies was narrowing down the path, preparing to pass by the ditches, while some others were trying to force their way straight through them. Just then, the peas came into action, forcing us to hunch over considerably to avoid friendly fire, especially me.
With dull pops, the peas literally spat their kernels out of their pods, launching them at the zombies like bullets. Following them, the roses, positioned slightly behind, also joined the attack. Twirling their blossoms, they shot their petals at the enemies like discus throwers, and as they hit the undead's rotting flesh, they embedded themselves, much like shurikens. The plants were hitting the incoming zombies with everything they had, taking down one after another and leaving dozens of motionless bodies on the approaches to the farm. Nevertheless, there were still at least fifty creatures closing in on our section, and they were just a stone's throw from the fence.
Seeing that the moment of close combat was near and inevitable, I tried to dig the last hole in front of the left rows of the cabbage patch with a sense of urgency. The shovel in my hands was almost trembling from the tension, and in my haste, I unintentionally scooped up the earth in too small portions. While I did my part of the work, AJ was watching what was happening. When the first zombies crossed the ditch's depth, starting to crush the stakes, her anxious gaze darted to me, catching me nosing around in the dirt.
"Why in the hay are ya poking around over there?" she nervously exclaimed, moving closer to me. "Let me handle it!"
Having snatched the shovel from my tense hands, she quickly dug a fairly deep hole in just two or three sharp movements. Strangely enough, she managed this task faster than me with her teeth and hoof. Not wanting to be the weak link in our duo, I immediately pulled a seedling from her saddlebag and placed it in the depression as soon as the pony in the hat spat out the tool to the side, then quickly scooped the excavated soil back. Before she took the watering can, our gaze lifted, and we discovered what plunged us into a moment of stark horror. The first zombies had squeezed through the stakes. And while the others proved duller, attempting to uproot the obstacles, these lunged forward, aiming to shorten the distance of a dozen meters that separated them from the fence.
"Quick, get the can!" I urged my friend, while I instinctively snatched an axe and prepared for the worst.
Applejack was just as quick-thinking as I was, so she rushed to the watering can the moment I called out. Equally swiftly, she returned to the seedling and watered it, even though the first creatures were getting very close. In just a few seconds, one of the zombies would attempt to climb over the fence, causing my fingers to grip the axe handle tighter. But at the last moment, I was distracted by a golden glow illuminating the ground in front of me. Instinctively, I and my friend stepped back. Another bonk choy had sprouted just as rapidly as the others, and as the rotten hands clutched the fence, the plant's stalks unleashed a series of powerful punches against the undead enemy.
AJ and I stood behind the tall Chinese cabbage, watching in amazement as it began to pummel the advancing zombies who were drawing near. Holding back the undead with hooks from both sides, the massive stems pushed them away until finally finishing the combination with a mighty uppercut that sent empty heads tumbling from hunched shoulders. However, just as the bonk choy knocked the second zombie off the fence while it was hurriedly trying to climb over, another gust of wind blew from the thickets. It was accompanied by a horrifying demonic whistle, and suddenly, the ground beneath our feet trembled. The tension within me flared up with renewed strength.
I barely had time to blink before I felt a powerful grip on my leg. Instinctively, I jerked backward and lowered my gaze, discovering a vile hand emerging from beneath the ground, clutching me. They would sometimes do this, attacking from the depths, as if they were moles, in unexpected places, making it their most dangerous method. In terror and revulsion, I swung my axe, chopping the hand off at the wrist, but the fingers kept clinging to me. Stepping back, I frantically kicked, and fortunately, the wrist detached like mud from my pants. However, it wasn't the end of the skirmish.
Even with one hand missing, the zombie burst from the ground up to its chest and immediately reached for me with its other hand, but it received a blow to the head from my axe. In a fit of rage, I struck its empty skull several times, splitting it in half, putting an end to its attempts to seize me. But in that moment, I was caught off guard by an attack from behind. Something grabbed my coat's collar, adorned with artificial fur, and yanked me backward. I tumbled to the ground, and as I opened my eyes after landing, I instantly saw the ugly face of the undead looming over me. My hands seemed to act on their own, positioning the axe horizontally against its limbs, which reached for my neck.
Leaning on the axe's handle, the zombie pushed against me with a force I couldn't overcome. But before he could press the weapon into my chest, help arrived. I hardly had time to process it when I saw before my eyes the ginger hooves that effortlessly removed the head of the creature attacking me. The pressure immediately eased, and I hastily pushed the lifeless body off me. As I propped myself up on my elbows, I noticed Applejack nearby, breathing heavily from the tension. Another decapitated zombie lay on the ground next to her, alongside a lasso.
"How ya holdin' up?" the farmer asked, extending a hoof to me.
Once I accepted her assistance, a new wave of terror washed over me. Behind Applejack, another creature had risen, its hands already reaching for her. Springing into action, I readjusted my grip on the axe and, just as my partner managed to leap aside, I swung the blade with force into the zombie's jaw, shattering it into pieces and thus pushing the foe back. Without allowing it a chance to recover, I delivered a knockout blow with a second swing. As soon as the deed was done, I cast my gaze down at the ginger pony, who had once again prepared her lasso for battle but hadn't had a chance to use it as intended.
"Not very well," I nervously replied, finally answering her question.
And once again, the zombies' howls echoed throughout the area, causing our hearts to skip a beat. Immediately, we cast our glances across the battlefield. Only a few zombies continued to advance through the ditches, and our bonk choys stationed behind the fence were confidently pushing them back on both sides, especially since some of the undead were still trying to uproot the stakes, attempting to ease the path for the next wave, which was already visible on the horizon. A larger crowd was approaching from the south orchard. We hadn't even finished dealing with the first wave when the second one was already knocking on our door, and that's putting it lightly. Turning our heads towards the gates, we witnessed firsthand that repelling the first attack was not on the agenda yet.
Focusing their main forces at the gates, the zombies pushed past the barricade of crates and stormed into the yard in great numbers. No matter how much the plants in the rear line of defense fired at them, or how hard the two bonk choys pummeled away at any adversary, the invaders were multiplying on the farm's territory by the second. Dozens of them pressed against the gates, either trying to squeeze through or attempting to climb over the fence. Those in the front lines were already launching an assault on the plants closest to them. While the pea pods barrage mowed them down one by one, denying access to their positions, the Chinese cabbage faced a harsher ordeal. They surrounded it from all sides, tearing it apart and devouring it.
"Goodness me!" exclaimed the pony in the hat, aghast at the dire situation the two bonk choys were facing. "They're swarmin' like locusts on the crops! Yer cabbage ain't gonna make it without the sunlight water!"
Articulating her convulsive thoughts, the blonde rushed to the watering can resting on the side. I immediately understood her plan, so I hurried after her, shouting as we ran:
"I've got your back!"
With these words, I also swapped my axe for a bow, fully aware of the risk my friend was taking. She intended to water one of the bonk choys with a dose of sunlight water, which required her to get dangerously close to the undead. But it was the only way to hold off their massed assault. You see, the magic of this liquid significantly boosted all the combat abilities of the fully grown plant for a short period of time. And to deal with the influx of the walking dead at the gates, the Chinese cabbage desperately needed it.
Together, we swiftly raced between the fence line and the rows of cabbage, as their heads launched above us like artillery shells, fired toward both the gates and the ditches. When we reached the chicken coop, which was positioned very close to the point of the maintained defense and thus was lined with metal, I stopped and nocked an arrow onto my bow, while Applejack did not slow down and quickly made her way to the bonk choy. Zombies encircled the heroically defending plant from both the gates and behind the fence, closing in on it and trying to tear it to shreds with their teeth and hands. In turn, it peeled off new stalk-fists from its body, continuing the fight but unable to strike down the enemies fast enough.
However, my attention was not so much on the unequal battle of the Chinese cabbage with the horde of zombies as it was on a couple of walking dead carrying torches, approaching the fence with plans to cross it. The flames they bore were deadly to the plants, not to mention my companion, who fearlessly rushed almost to the very throng of the undead. Therefore, my arrow was instantly released into one of them. I intentionally drew the string as tight as possible, causing the shot to strike his chest and bring the enemy down, while the torch flew out of his hand. Then it was the turn of the next one, but as I prepared a new arrow, something even more dangerous caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
As soon as Applejack positioned herself at the base of the bonk choy, three zombies immediately closed in on her. Seeing the threat from them, she took a slight step back, not releasing the watering can from her mouth. In that very moment, my arrow took off the head of the first one. Occasionally, I managed to make such accurate shots. My support became evident to the ginger pony, so she overcame her fear and still leaned in toward the determinedly defending Chinese cabbage to water it as quickly as possible. The undead were already reaching out their bony hands towards her; I managed to bring down another one, but the third remained. I was about to put away my bow and rush into close combat with the axe in my hands, and the farmer, it seemed, was about to step aside. And that's when the sunlight water finally kicked in.
Bathed in a golden, magical aura, the bonk choy suddenly began delivering strikes of unprecedented strength with lightning speed. It seemed that a multitude of stalk-fists were sweeping in all directions, crushing zombies right and left. The one that intended to harm my friend instantly lost its empty head, which flew toward the barn walls. In an instant, a couple dozen zombies fell, which slightly eased the pressure on the gates, albeit temporarily. New walking dead were already coming, unwilling to give us or our plants any respite.
One of the zombies with a torch, who had fallen while crossing the fence, dropped his tool, and the flame from it spread to the short grass growing under the nearest fence post. Again, we risked losing our barrier. At the same time, some of these creatures, advancing on the borders of the cabbage patch, began to break the bars that blocked their path. In any case, allowing a fire was extremely dangerous, which prompted me to take action. I hurried over to Applejack, who remained at the gates, and continued to shoot arrows at the approaching enemies while on the move. Although missing at this distance was nearly impossible, shooting the undead with a bow was still inconvenient. Oh, if only I had a good old Winchester at hand…
"It's too dangerous to stay here," I declared, approaching the pony. In the meantime, she hurled an explosive apple into the ranks of zombies, which filled her saddlebag. The explosion that followed my words scattered a dozen zombies in different directions. "Run for the logs and prepare for the next stage of defense!"
"What 'bout ya?"
"I'll put out the fire," I replied, nodding toward the flames spreading in the grass under the fence. Assessing the situation, the farmer objected:
"Nope, let's tackle it as a team. Ah'm keepin' watch over ya now."
Briefly nodding to her, I rushed to the well where we had several buckets of water prepared for such occasions. Perhaps I shouldn't have doubted for a moment that she wouldn't leave me alone on the front lines. Remaining by the gates, she pulled two explosive apples from her saddlebag, bit off the stems with her teeth, and tossed them into the air, striking each with her hind hooves, sending them into the horde of zombies. Her strikes were remarkably accurate, as she had honed this skill by playing buckball, and the projectiles she launched repeatedly tore the undead apart with powerful explosions. However, there were too many of them – the second wave, numbering no less than a hundred, had already crossed the ditch line.
The plants didn't stop hurling their projectiles at the advancing enemies, nor did my partner, and the bonk choys engaged in close combat with everyone approaching the fence or gates. While this gruesome battle was taking place, I returned with a bucket in hand to the site of the fire. The flames had begun to consume the base of one of the fence posts, but I quickly halted its progress by dousing it with water. The fire was temporarily thwarted. However, new zombies with torches were marching toward the fence, and as I moved a bit closer to the mare in the hat, it seemed like there was a rhythmic tremor in the ground. When the next gust of wind hit, accompanied by an eerie whistle, it became clear that I wasn't imagining things at all.
Casting our gazes into the distance, my friend and I saw through the mist and the nighttime darkness the approach of the third wave from the southern orchard. Amid the flickering torches and ordinary zombies, we recognized several colossal silhouettes, which momentarily took our breath away. They were striding ahead of the next hordes of zombies, and the ground trembled beneath their steps. Each of them could easily contain a dozen of the usual walking dead. In the light of the torchbearers walking beside them, we could already see that they carried their heavy weapons in their hands – telephone poles or trees torn out by the roots, which had previously crushed more than one plant. These were particularly gigantic zombies, as if resurrected corpses of ancient Nephilim, even less resembling humans than their smaller brethren.
We referred to them as Gargantuars due to their unimaginable size. Such giants appeared only in the final waves of the attack, and not always; typically, there were at most two of them for the entire horde. But now we were witnessing six of these monsters heading towards our farm. They were followed by an entire sea of zombies. At the sight of them, I involuntarily swallowed hard and dropped the empty bucket to the ground in confusion.
"Darn it!" I exclaimed. "These, for heaven's sake, are Gargantuars!"
"Yup, and a heapin' bunch of 'em!" Applejack was equally astonished. When she and I nervously exchanged glances while the plants were trying to prevent the zombies from entering through the gates, she added, "Oh, feathers on the goat! What in tarnation are we gonna do with 'em?!"
"I don't know," I admitted. At that moment, another undead head rolled out of the gate, taken down right at the threshold. I realized that staying here was extremely dangerous. "To our positions, quickly!"
Having called the ginger pony after me, I sprinted past the ranks of pea pods uphill towards the entrance to the barn, which was tightly sealed. I didn't have any specific plan. But I was doing what we had to do, and for now, we still had a little time to figure something out. Although there was almost no room for improvisation. The thing is, Gargantuars are known for being incredibly difficult to destroy. They are so tough that a whole army of plants could barely hold them back, and with their heavy weapons, such a creature could easily crush any cabbage head or pea pod with just one blow. And now, six of these monsters were closing in on us!
Together, we bypassed all our defensive lines and took positions almost against the barn wall on the side of the corn, which had diligently showered zombies with its seeds. In front of its row lay a bundle of hefty logs. From here, I saw how the zombies from the second wave, mixed with those who had survived from the first, descended upon the gates and the fence along its entire length. Most of the stakes had been uprooted, and the remains of the undead had so thoroughly blocked the ditches that in some places, their brethren easily passed through them. Nothing stood in their way advancing into the farm's territory, except for the counterattacks from the plants.
Rushing at the fence, they tried to shatter it to splinters, while their more agile companions climbed over it and attempted to devour the bonk choys who lacked enough fists to keep the enemy fingers and teeth at bay. The other plants couldn't strike these creatures in time to relieve the pressure on the gradually perishing Chinese cabbage. The second wave was already threatening to crush the first line of our defense, and the third was approaching. Those masses led by the six Gargantuars were no more than a hundred meters away from the farm.
"I suggest we do what we can," I finally called out, taking an apple from my partner's saddlebag.
Stricken by the sight of the battle, she eventually shifted her focus to how I hurled a fruit projectile into the crowd of zombies and snapped back to reality. Placing her belongings on the ground, she began doing the same while I took hold of my bow. It was all we could do – to lighten the dreadful burden that the plants were carrying for us. Therefore, explosive apples and arrows went into our undead foes as frequently and accurately as corn seeds and rose petals.
Everything that followed blended into a chaotic whirlwind of activity and the fear igniting within my soul. I loosed one arrow after another, not keeping count of how many remained in the quiver. The zombies pressed against the barrier in their path to the farm's territory, breached several sections, and nearer to the gates, one particularly fortunate undead with a torch managed to set fire once more. The bonk choys fought valiantly but couldn't repel the continuous onslaught of foes, so they were gradually gnawed down to the point of offering no resistance. The one guarding the right gate was entirely consumed by the flames, though it continued to swing its stem-fists until it turned into ashes.
Here they massively invaded the farm's territory – these death vandals who thirsted for the destruction of all that's connected to life. Even at such close range, the cabbage hurled heads at them. As they approached her rows, it vigorously struck them with its stems crowned with projectiles, as though they were heavy clubs. However, in close combat, it was not as effective as the bonk choys, so the zombies confidently surrounded it, bending as low as possible, devouring it right from the beds. Nevertheless, with combined efforts alongside our flora, we fought them so diligently that only two dozen or so continued to storm the yard from the second wave. We probably could have easily finished them off if not for the massive reinforcement that arrived.
Moving side by side with heavy steps, the six Gargantuars crossed the trenches cluttered with corpses, and the more agile smaller-sized zombies were already striding over what had been the fence just minutes ago. Not even the flames they had ignited could stop them as they walked through it, making it seem like the dead were advancing from the depths of hell! At that moment, I reached for the next arrow and discovered that the quiver was empty. Our situation was dire enough as it was. Not knowing what to do, I suddenly glanced down at the watering can brought here by the farmer.
Perhaps that was the only thing I could do for our defense. Shedding my bow and empty quiver by the barn gates, I then took a watering can in my hands without a word to my friend and bolted down the slope. At my own peril, I raced towards the rows of pea pods, where dozens of the walking dead were already prowling. Behind them, the zombie giants loomed, their footsteps piercing the ground just as my heart did, and on their broad shoulders perched miniature zombie midgets, whose faces contorted into sinister grins. We called them Imps, and I particularly loathed these ugly pricks.
Knowing that the Gargantuars had a habit of tossing these small bastards deep into our defense, I gripped an axe in my right hand. It was then that my fears came true. Two zombie giants, positioned in the middle and slightly ahead of their comrades, each grabbed their dwarfish friends by the scruff and hurled them toward me in quick succession. Slowing down right next to the roses, I swiftly lowered the watering can to the ground and, seizing the axe with both hands, met the first little monster with a counterstrike that sent the tiny corpse flying backward with a shattered skull. Well, my youthful baseball training hadn't gone to waste…
Following was the second Imp, but I let it pass over me, bending down to grab the watering can and rushing forward because time was running out. I quickly glanced back while on the run and noticed that this little monster was already entangled in a lasso. Applejack wasted no time and followed me straight into the heart of it all. On one hand, I was relieved by her presence, but on the other, I feared for her even more than for myself. However, there was no room for doubt. I dashed towards the row of pea pods, which were firing at the zombies hanging over them with all their might, and I didn't hesitate to do the only thing that could delay the destruction of both the plants and ourselves.
Hunched over to avoid being hit by the deadly rose petals, I rushed along the line of pea plants, watering them on the go with sunlight water. I moved so close to the zombies, who had already started feasting on these plants, that it seemed like they could reach me with their decaying, contorted, yet very strong arms. Only the pods separated me from them. Fortunately, they didn't pay any attention to me, as they were preoccupied with close combat against the peas. When I covered the entire length of the line, one plant after another gave them their strongest fight yet.
In the blink of an eye, the peas significantly increased in size and unleashed a torrent of fire on all the zombies surrounding them. Like machine guns, they shot a hail of their kernels, instantly scattering dozens of walking dead on the line engulfed in flames by the gate. And when the pods finally calmed down, returning to their usual state, I saw something that greatly surprised and inspired me. Behind the crashed crowd that fell to the ground, two gigantic carcasses collapsed, visibly battered by numerous blows, and their huge heads tumbled from their broad shoulders. Having endured several accurate hits from apple grenades and now experiencing the torrential fire of peas, the first two Gargantuars fell.
However, my emotional lift lasted only a couple of seconds. Through the flames, devouring the fence and the gate, four other zombie giants invaded the territory, accompanied by dozens of ordinary undead, while another large group was already finishing off the cabbage. The watering can was nearly empty, even though this water was worth its weight in gold to us, and we tried to use it sparingly. With no ideas, I raced back to the last line of defense, and glancing to my right, I saw my partner doing the same thing, first throwing a couple of explosive apples at the enemies. I forced myself to come up with some kind of plan, but my mind, shrouded in the fog of combat fervor and stress, seemed to stall.
Returning to the bundle of logs, with the farmer standing on the other side and hurling apple grenades into the undead, I couldn't think of anything else except giving a bit of sunlight water to the nearest corncob. Once I did that, it vomited a fair amount of corn butter, which cascaded onto the zombies like a fountain, freezing them in their tracks. In times past, we could have had a thriving food business using these plants, but now, what I did could only slightly delay our demise. I knew that this butter, for some reason, made these monsters freeze in their tracks, like statues, but it would quickly run off them, clear their vision, and they would continue their inexorable advance.
In the watering can, the solar water sloshed at the bottom, so I decided to save it for the direst situation. Leaving it in place, I raced over to Applejack, who was relentless in hurling explosive apples. Now I could only assist her in this task, and fortunately, we still had enough of these projectiles. However, they were not eternal either.
"It's hopeless, sugarcube," the farmer said with a tone of doomedness after making another throw. When her wide, terror-filled emerald eyes turned to me, my heart skipped a beat.
"Just keep hitting them, and let come what may," I declared in desperation. Then I took an apple grenade from her bag and returned to the battle.
We continued to hurl our projectiles at them, and the plants didn't stop doing the same as before. But the effect of the corn butter soon wore off. The carnage resumed with the same intensity, and dozens of zombies quickly swarmed the pea pods. At the same time, other, smaller groups of them finished off the last of the cabbage, consuming many of its heads and smashing others with clubs. Some fell victim to the fire, and a couple of the walking dead even tried to get into the chicken coop. Luckily, we had the foresight to fortify it with a metal covering, mainly using the doors from safes and ovens we scavenged in the abandoned Ponyville.
The pea pods resisted the zombies to the end as they gobbled them up, encircling them on all sides. However, all this commotion lasted until the Gargantuars arrived for close combat. As they approached our plants, they easily crushed them with their heavy weapons, instantly suppressing any resistance. With each of their strikes, the very earth shook, and I felt somewhat uneasy witnessing the death of our defending flora, foreshadowing our imminent demise. Despite their losses, the plants diligently fought these creatures, setting an example for us.
Tacitly agreeing to hurl apple grenades at one of the giant zombies, we miraculously managed to destroy it after probably ten or more throws before it brought its telephone pole onto the last pea pod. Smaller zombies, who had merged into a common mass after ravaging the cabbage and futile attempts to get into the chicken coop, perished along with it. But there were still too many of them, and only nine roses and five corncobs separated them from us. That was the entire cost of our lives. I won't hide it; panic was welling up inside me uncontrollably, even though we were able to crush another Gargantuar.
The assault on the roses was as massive as on the peas. Our apple bombs flew at the next Gargantuar, and at some point, the explosions showering him tore off the arm that held a hefty wooden log. Due to this, as he approached the roses, he grabbed one of them with his surviving limb and effortlessly uprooted it from the ground, then devoured it like cotton candy on a stick. However, before he could toss away the remaining root, another barrage of corn knocked off its enormous head from his shoulders. The little Imp hanging on his back fell to the ground and continued the onslaught along with the rest of the zombies.
Attacked by a multitude of zombies, the roses closed their blossoms to be more protected from their teeth and claws, only opening them to hurl another petal at them. They held up more resiliently under the onslaught than the peas, allowing us to maintain our position not for the first night, but everything changed when two remaining zombie giants joined the fray. It was especially painful for me to watch the demise of these beautiful flowers. What I once gave to Applejack was now perishing under the march of barbarism and death. The two Gargantuars broke through the center of the line and started crushing the roses on the flanks, while other zombies rushed towards us, growling menacingly. They were only about two dozen meters away from us. It was time for the final card.
"Cut the ropes!" I ordered, grabbing the axe and rushing to the opposite end of the logs. "Come on, AJ! Let's kick them out!"
Quickly figuring out what to do, the ginger pony pulled a knife from her saddlebag and skillfully cut the rope that held the logs on her side. At the speed of the wind, I raced to the other end and, in one sweep, severed what was holding them from that side. When I returned a little back and sharply chopped the rope securing the center, the pony in a hat, who had arrived there, kicked the logs with strong hind legs to give them greater momentum, and they rolled down the slope towards the zombies. Our calculation was correct; these hefty pieces of wood knocked the walking corpses off their feet, easily broke their limbs, ground their rotten flesh to bits, thus halting the attack.
The fun ended when the logs reached the Gargantuars, who had just finished with the roses. Striking their legs, they came to a halt as if colliding with mighty columns. While our trap disabled a couple of dozen zombies, it didn't save the situation. Half a hundred of walking dead were still advancing towards us, accompanied by two giants whose hands immediately made a throw, and two Imps flew out towards us. I prepared to resist them, but at that very moment, the corn came into play just in time. Both midgets were knocked out of the air by its seeds. However, the last line of defense couldn't hold back what was approaching us like doom. We finally lost…
"Let's skedaddle from this mess!" Applejack screamed in fear and rushed away, unable to bear the sight of the impending death. I followed her, not at all eager to stay here. Only the corn remained to defend this section of the fallen defense, unable to escape.
Running away from the enemy attack line, we circumvented the inner fence surrounding the porch in front of the house entrance and stopped, as if intuitively realizing that there was nowhere for us to run. Only at that moment did I notice that I was holding a watering can, which I must have grabbed automatically as I ran past. Looking back, I witnessed the undead attacking the corn. They were second-line plants, and they had no business being on the front. Their fate was sealed.
"They won't last long," I stated emotionlessly, to which the ginger pony exclaimed in horror:
"What in tarnation are we gonna do? Did they… win?"
Applejack's world was crumbling, and it was evident in her vacant eyes, with meager tears welling up. She had already endured much in the past few days, not having seen her family for a long time, uncertain of their fate. And in this moment, her farm was perishing before her. It was where she was born and raised, like her ancestors, but now a horde of zombies threatened to leave nothing standing. Sensing a tumultuous mixture of diverse and undeniably somber emotions churning within me as well, I began frantically scanning our surroundings, as if searching for anyone or anything that could help us. But only the deserted farm surrounded us, and the nearest surviving plants either guarded the northern outskirts, quite far from the barn, or were part of the home seedlings yet.
We stood on the path that stretched from the exit of our farm, leading to the hills of carrot fields in one direction and to the north orchards behind the barn in the other. To our right, hay lay just against the wall, and to the left, a little ahead, a small area spread out, hosting neat rows of sunflowers. It was these sunflowers that provided us with the magical water. Although we had two more such plots on the other side of the house, we barely had enough. A few meters beyond the flowers, our torch stood, still burning. When I noticed it, a rather crazy idea immediately pierced me. But I had nothing else in mind.
Having grabbed a shovel from my partner's bag, I silently began to dig two pits right in the middle of the path. My actions immediately puzzled the mare.
"Hey, what are ya doin'?"
"I have an idea," I replied firmly. "But you definitely won't like it."
"What is it?" the blonde asked right away, either fearing my explanation or eager to get on with it. I pointed to the flower beds and began to expound:
"These flowers must be as flammable as their water. If we manage to lure those creatures onto their beds, watering them beforehand with the watering can, and then drop our torch on them, they will all burn in its fire. That's all we can do."
As expected, the farmer's eyes nearly popped out of her head at my plan. Before she regained her ability to speak, I quickly dug the second hole.
"Are ya plumb loco?" she hissed incredulously. "Y'all sayin' we turn our yard into a dang fire? Wanna set the whole farm ablaze?"
"Maybe we'll get lucky," I dryly remarked, planting the last two bonk choy seedlings in the holes. Once I finished with them, I stood up straight and presented the ultimatum, "Choose: either we take the risk of losing the farm, or the farm will definitely lose us."
Without waiting for her answer, I started watering the Chinese cabbage from the watering can. As soon as it grew, the zombie moans brought the apple pony out of deep thoughts. When we cast bewildered looks at the barn entrance, we saw that the last corncob had just fallen. And the remaining zombies were heading towards us with their slow but inexorable steps.
"Alright, if that's what ya reckon," the pony reluctantly agreed. "Well, let's git 'er done!"
Seeing her determined resolve not to let the farm fall into the dirty hands of zombies, even if it meant sacrificing the entire estate, I nodded confidently. At the same time, the undead were getting closer, with only two bonk choys standing between us.
"This won't hold them for long," I admitted, and then immediately got down to business. "Let's go!"
Hearing death marching behind us, we got down to business with the quickness of prey escaping a predator. Grabbing the watering can, I dashed to the sunflower beds and began watering them with what they themselves produced, although there was almost nothing left in the can. The flowers, like all similar plants, had eyes that carelessly observed my actions, not understanding what was happening. This was evident from the cute smiles on their inflorescences. It was a pity to use them as fuel for the fire in which I intended to burn our threat. But there was no other choice. Flora regularly had to sacrifice itself for us.
While I was tending to my task, AJ stepped aside and once again took hold of the apple grenades. Although her throws almost immediately ceased before I could water the beds. When I returned to her, the zombies had just pounced on the bonk choys, which had started dealing punches to them.
"Ah got just two apples left. Reckon that oughta do to knock down the torch," the farmer said, showing me the contents of her bag. Then her sad gaze rose to our structure. "But if we go through with that, then… what 'bout our message to Canterlot?"
"If we had another plan," I shrugged in bewilderment. At that moment, one of the Gargantuars flattened the right bonk choy, while the left one was voraciously being devoured by the ordinary zombies. The moment of truth was approaching. "Let's try to lure them into our trap."
Standing amidst the sunflowers, we started taunting the zombies finishing off the last bonk choy, showering them with curses, and luring them into the fiery trap. I didn't even imagine if they understood our speech, although it didn't matter. The crucial thing was that, having dealt with the Chinese cabbage, which bravely bought us time, they eagerly pursued us, craving our brains and flesh. Standing in the way of these creatures and enticing them with our shouts was akin to attempting to mine the rails in front of an oncoming train. Fortunately, the zombie movement was much slower. Though a close encounter with them was no less terrifying than death under steel wheels… if not more so.
The distance between us and the zombies was steadily diminishing with each of their steps, the adrenaline level rising from the mere sight of their march until we finally stopped hurling insults. They only had a few meters to go until the first sunflowers, and the Gargantuars seemed to loom over us like two rocks.
"Run, AJ! Stay away from them," I ordered, taking the last two explosive apples out of her bag without looking. As if spellbound, she obediently followed my instructions and galloped away somewhere beyond the torch. Meanwhile, I began to slowly retreat backward, continuing to lure them into the heart of the flower beds, "Well, come here, you crap-headed bastards!"
The walking undead were right in front of me, the poles carried by the zombie giants seemed almost able to reach me, and that's when I snapped backwards away from them. Their entire horde had almost completely gone into the flower beds, signaling that I needed to hurry not to miss the moment. At full speed, I reached the torch and, without slowing down, threw an apple grenade towards the two supports holding the structure from the side where the undead were chasing me.
Fleeing without looking back, I heard an explosion behind me, the shockwave hitting my back, causing my balance to waver. I almost fell but somehow made it to the square hay bales located closer to the carrot beds, where Applejack was waiting for me. Only when I was next to her did I stop and turn back. Before my eyes, the torch collapsed. Like a monumental structure, it fell menacingly and, in a sense, majestically onto the sunflower beds, crashing precisely onto the Gargantuar ahead of the horde, crushing it with its mass. Immediately after that, flames erupted.
Drenched in solar water, the flowers ignited like candles, followed by those zombies fortunate enough to avoid the torch. Even engulfed in flames, they continued moving toward us, just as they had at the gate ten minutes ago. These horrific spawns from the underworld thirsted so eagerly for our demise that they relentlessly pressed on, even now, with their putrid flesh aflame. Nevertheless, they couldn't perform beyond their capabilities, causing one after another to collapse onto the burning flower beds and never rise again. The flames devoured their decaying bodies, preventing them from advancing steadfastly.
They fell one after another as we stared at them with wide eyes, unable to move from our spots. The fire raged so fiercely and intensely that most of them remained to burn alongside the unfortunate flowers, and only a few managed to proceed further. But one fell, then another, and only the last Gargantuar, burning like the effigy of Guy Fawkes on the fifth of November, continued forward, shaking a huge pole also engulfed in flames. When he managed to overcome the entire length of the fallen torch, driven by instincts, I moved towards him, gripping the axe handle tightly.
My heart raced at an unprecedented pace once again during this dreadful night, and my mind was utterly blank. However, before something horrifying happened, Gargantuar suddenly fell to his knee. Trying to get up, leaning on his pole, he collapsed entirely – his bulky arm, already burned enough, snapped in half. In his final moment, he managed only a muffled growl before sprawling on the ground, motionless. Before I could fully comprehend our stroke of luck, an autumn rain poured as if ordered from the heavens, and a tremor passed through the ground, as if from the fall of the last destroyed giant.
Out of nowhere, with a dull crunch, something burst from the soil, followed by a scream behind me. Quickly turning around, I saw a zombie erupting from the ground, tightly gripping the bewildered Applejack. Her attempts to break free from its steel grasp proved futile, and as I rushed to her aid, pulling my axe from my belt, the filthy creature sank its rotten teeth into her shoulder. A loud cry escaped the farmer's throat as the zombie bit through her coat. Although her suffering didn't last long, as my axe promptly buried into the spine of the lifeless bastard.
Forced to strike in a way that wouldn't accidentally harm my friend, I still achieved the desired effect. The zombie roared as if it felt pain, and Applejack managed to break free from its weakened grip. In horror, she recoiled to the side, and I finished what I started, smashing the creature's head, just as two more monstrosities emerged from the ground around us. Feeling the fury from their persistence, I leaped towards the next one behind me with berserker rage and a wild grin, swiftly decapitating it before it could grab me with its lifeless hands. But the third one managed.
Its crooked fingers grasped the collar of my overcoat and with unprecedented strength brought me down to the ground. Landing on my back, I saw above me the madly staring eyes of the undead, whose hands reached for my neck. I tried to resist, but after a couple of seconds, our struggle resulted in his peeling nails, generously adorned with serrations, scratching a mark on my cheek just below the eye. I lacked the strength to push him off me; like all zombies, he was very strong until it all resolved as if by magic.
A rope lunged onto the head of the walking dead, tightened around its throat, and pulled it backward. It was Applejack, not leaving me alone in trouble. Together, she and I wrestled this creature off me, and as I managed to rise a bit, my axe split the foe's head. It no longer twitched, just like all its numerous buddies; the threat had been extinguished. Still on edge, I began to feel my body succumb to exhaustion, my hands trembling from strain. Slowly, I sank onto the short, damp grass slightly aside from the vanquished undead.
It became very quiet. Only the hiss of rain and the crackle of burning wood disturbed this sepulchral silence. Yet, it soothed the ears like nothing else. We prevailed – again, and at that moment, I could hardly believe it. On the other hand, my determination was as solid as ever. I don't know where these creatures come from. Perhaps it's some kind of magic or experiments by our mad scientists, or maybe a couple of freaks decided to fuck in a graveyard, accidentally awakening the dead to a semblance of life, initiating a zombie apocalypse that reached us. I don't know where it all started. But I know where it will end – here, on our farm. And we will exert every effort to ensure it stays that way.
With these unspoken thoughts, churning in my mind in tandem with the adrenaline in my heart, I looked at Applejack, who was sitting right beside me. My partner was trying to catch her breath, as was I, and two streams of blood trickled down her shoulder. I knew that, contrary to the once-common misconception, a zombie bite didn't turn the bitten into one of them. At least, this didn't apply to ponies. But anyway, neither I nor she emerged dry from the water, not to mention the plants. Yet…
"Looks like you and I survived once again," I spoke, breaking the silence. My words sounded as if I still couldn't believe this fact.
"Yup," she nodded, in a weary state. "Looks like we did."
Neither gusts of wind with a cemetery howl, nor lifeless moans, nor even underground tremors. It truly was all over; the battle had ended, victory was miraculously ours. Finally, we met gazes, and within me, something special ignited, indescribable. I longed to see her eyes endlessly! I think she felt something too because, like scalded, we instinctively rushed towards each other, not even bothering to rise from the ground. In just a second, we entwined in the warmest embrace, the kind that could only warm our bodies and souls in the chilly rain and the insane night of our narrowly avoided demise.
Our lives had just hung by a thread, and now the farm remained almost defenseless. Its front yard was ravaged, a fire burned nearby, not yielding much to the rain. But in that brief moment, we didn't care; nothing existed around us except our unity, expressed in a tight embrace. It was precisely this that had allowed us to survive all this time – the fact that we had each other. Experiencing this state not entirely consciously, I pressed Applejack to my chest, and my hand affectionately buried itself in her mane under the cowboy hat.
"Ya just saved my hide, huh?" Applejack suddenly remarked softly after a minute of silence. "Thanks, sugarcube."
I slightly pulled her away from me and looked into her emerald eyes, full of the same feelings that blossomed in my soul. Oh, I loved that look of hers more and more!
"What are you talking about, Jackie?" I shrugged, inadvertently calling her a name that, as she had told me, only her father used in the old days. "How else would you have saved me?"