//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5: Hoping 
// Story: Zombies on Your Farm 
// by Skjald 
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All around was utter silence. I listened to it, feeling a sense of emptiness inside me. Yes, we pulled through – again. Not a single creature managed to finish us off. But what awaited us ahead? Perhaps, I couldn't deny that, like Applejack, I was getting tired of this life. And there seemed to be no end in sight. We weren't broken, we would rebuild our defenses, complete the harvest, and erect a new torch. But after the fall of the old, crushing zombies under its weight and burning others in flames, something inside me seemed to have cracked a little more, as it did with every upheaval caused by enemy attacks.

We were slowly but surely being squeezed. Each new attack fell on a defense that became less and less reliable. And our plants… theoretically, I should treat them as mere expendables, as they used to be just food, but now they had essentially turned into a living shield against zombies. But I increasingly began to see them as soldiers bravely giving their lives for our victories. And their numbers in our reserves were steadily decreasing – we simply couldn't grow replacements fast enough. All of this felt like some horrifying nightmare that just wouldn't come to an end.

However, we still remained alive, and that was the main thing. Right now, I considered it most important to calm down, regain composure, and, in the end, gather my thoughts to figure out our next steps with a clear head. That's why I sat on the terrace of the carrot farm, located on a hill away from the Apples' barn, simply relaxing from the madness that had just transpired, gazing into the distance. From here, almost the entire Ponyville Valley was visible. Besides the fact that this building stood on an elevation, its terrace was on the second floor. I always liked the view from here, even though it had become desolate, lifeless, and consequently gloomy.

Ponyville, visible to the northeast from here, was engulfed in the night's darkness and showed no signs of life. In the houses, whose outlines resembled ghosts roaming in the middle of the night, no lights were on, and the streets were deserted. But how beautiful it used to be here before the hordes of zombies invaded this world! The local spring captivated me; everywhere it was green, in the sunlight, everything seemed truly enchanting, and the scents of blooming plants were simply intoxicating! Although, above all, it was the happiness among the local ponies that captivated me, which they were eager to share with everyone just like that. But now all of this was only a shadow of the past and dust.

Reminiscing about the past life, I turned my gaze to Canterlot, looming very far – almost at the horizon – definitely to the north of Ponyville. Lights still flickered in it. I didn't know if anyone from those who took shelter in the capital managed to see our torch, and if there was even a single pony left alive there. But I was certain that we needed to erect a new torch and persistently send our distress signal to the capital, regardless of the circumstances. Even if we had to bring it down on the zombies more than once. We couldn't afford to surrender, despite the immense challenges we faced.

These reflections were interrupted by the sound of hooves coming from inside the house. I looked to the right and soon saw Applejack stepping onto the terrace, clad in her coat and, of course, the hat. I guess I was so lost in thought, surveying Ponyville in the distance, that I didn't see her making her way from the apple farm toward the carrot one. Until now, I had been sitting here alone, as she stayed back at home, wanting to prepare new seedlings. It was one of those very few occasions when we allowed ourselves to separate, and only immediately after attacks. These creatures had never attacked us twice in a row, as if playing with us.

"Bored?" Applejack inquired, barely appearing before my eyes. Her tone was as if our lives hadn't hung by a thread. Yeah, she was very resilient.

"A bit," I smiled briefly, to which she lifted her burden held in her left hoof and cheerfully announced:

"Well, Ah fetched somethin' to put a smile on yer face!"

In her hoof, she held a mug, almost filled to the brim with cider. I had completely forgotten about it.

"You were supposed to save it, saying we had an inviolable reserve," I joked. Indeed, we intended to keep those barrels of cider for the direst circumstances, and opening one after the torch was built was an exception to the rule. Although I had no idea how many we had, as my partner was in charge of keeping track.

"This here's what we didn't get 'round to finish before all these walkin' compost showed up," the farmer replied, finishing her words with a grim tone aimed at our enemies. "Ah dumped it all in one mug, and thankfully, we got ourselves a full one. So, go ahead and drink – it's somethin' that oughta be swirlin' in our bellies by now."

Meanwhile, the ginger pony approached closer and placed the mug on the tea table right in front of the armchair where I was seated. Her rocking chair, in turn, was positioned to my left shoulder, and it was toward it that my friend headed. As she leisurely circled the table, I noticed a slight hobble in her left leg. Poor thing, she's limping. Fortunately, we had supplies to tend to her wound, so now bandages were applied under her coat. Nevertheless, it wasn't great that those undead managed to get so close to us… to say the least.

As she approached her seat, AJ nimbly perched herself on the rocking chair. Previously it belonged to her grandmother, and only she could relax in it. It was something of a family rule. But now, the ginger pony herself sat in it whenever we spent time on this cozy terrace. It was our place of serenity. Whenever we needed to calm down, take a break from worries, or simply have heartfelt conversations, we always came here. That's why the farmer moved her grandmother's chair here – to feel a deeper connection with a brighter past while being here.

So many evenings spent here, so many words spoken! Without a doubt, I would call these moments the best of the last month. We often dined here, chatted about this and that, shared stories from the past, getting to know each other better. Sometimes she sang old rural songs for me, and when she wasn't in the mood to sing, she just played the banjo. Oh, how I loved her voice – so heartfelt and incredibly sensual! Almost all the ponies surprisingly had excellent vocal skills, but AJ simply excelled in country music… yeah, better than anyone around. However, in some cases, just being in silence and quiet together was enough for both of us.

"How's your leg?" I worried as soon as she was next to me.

"Ah, ain't nothin', it'll mend itself," the blonde replied confidently. "Ya'll see, come next attack, Ah'll be jumpin' around like a wild goat!"

"I can imagine," I chuckled. Then, looking into the distance, I decided to share with her the first practical thought that came to me while I was waiting for her, "I think, before the next attack, we should relocate some plants from the northern part of the orchard. Attacks were rare and sparse there. They'd be more useful at the main entrance."

"Ah reckon the same. 'Specially 'cause we likely ain't got time to make up for all we lost lately," she added to my point. Finally, her gaze fell on the mug, and she changed the subject, "Well, what in tarnation are ya waitin' for? Bottoms up!"

I didn't argue with her. The cider was already cold, whereas during the autumn, and especially in the winter chill, ponies usually warmed it up before drinking, similar to our mulled wine. But it was fine as it was. Each cider had its own unique touch, but in its cold state it was much better suited for quenching thirst in the heat and dry air. Taking a sip, I once again fixed my gaze on the abandoned Ponyville. And again, I felt that strange sensation that came over me every time I looked at these empty houses.

The farm was surrounded by vast expanses, yet Applejack and I lingered here as if on a deserted island. Nonetheless, this island was strangely beautiful, even though peril loomed over us. One could think that amidst this monstrous mess, there was some kind of romance – the kind, however, that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

"Beautiful here," I uttered thoughtfully after a brief silence, then took another sip and handed the mug to Applejack. Thankfully, our chairs were placed almost side by side, so I didn't have to reach far.

"It used to be prettier," the farmer responded almost emotionlessly, also taking a sip. "Sadly, now it's all a big pile of nothing out here in the middle of nowhere."

Glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, I saw her take two more gulps in one go. Drinking from the same mug together… There was something kinship about it, something that united us – something that allowed us to stand for each other and fight for a common cause with one spirit. We did that before, right here in this very place – for example, sharing an apple between us, taking turns biting into it. As it was once said, feasting together meant fighting together, and with those vile zombies, we were in a real war. But almost immediately, my thoughts returned to the subject of the conversation that had just begun.

"What was the farm like before me?" I curiously asked. At that moment, the cider came back to me.

"Purdy, snug, homely," the pony in the hat listed off immediately. It seemed that nostalgia was starting to take hold of her – both sweet and bitter at the same time. "To reckon what Sweet Apple Acres was like back in the day, ya had to be at one of our family reunions. Picture this: kins from all over Equestria comin' together, all smiles, laughter fillin' the air, the whole bunch of us ponies having a blast – stitchin' family quilt, bakin' apple pies, then gobblin' 'em up with joy… heh-heh, Big Mac was a real champ at that! Fillies and colts 'uns competin', old ponies chattin' 'bout the good ol' days, and we'd finish it all off with a family snapshot in front of the barn. True, we had to fix it up once or twice… no big deal. Oh, how Ah wish Ah could show ya all that firsthoof!"

"But you mentioned that this event was only for the Apples," I calmly remarked. As far as I knew from her previous stories, these reunions seemed to be exclusive – something like clan gatherings.

"So what? Yer family to me, sugarcube," Applejack murmured with friendly warmth, and at that moment, I felt her hoof rest on my elbow.

As I looked at her, I encountered that captivating, good-natured smile once again. In response, I covered her hoof with my hand, then gently patted it a couple of times before handing the mug back to her. She accepted it and, after taking a sip, directed her gaze toward the barn. I followed suit. From here, I could see the remains where the sunflowers used to grow, now reduced to ashes. The remnants of the torch lay there as well. Thankfully, the house had remained unscathed from the recent attack, unlike the fence. It was broken, charred in several places, and it was up to us to rebuild it – yet again. Only dull pits in loose soil remained where the plants once stood guard.

Beyond the fence lay the remains of the zombies, which we piled up and set alight, as we always did. The flames from them continued to burn and would surely not be extinguished until morning. However, my attention wasn't fixated on the aftermath of the recent defense but was riveted to the barn. Remembering what it was like here in better times, I could envision a whole herd of Apples gathering in front of it, captured by the camera. Honestly, I didn't even need to imagine. I had seen photographs from their past gatherings, ones Granny Smith showed me once… sometimes against Applejack's wishes.

As it sometimes happens, the farmer didn't particularly want her grandmother to introduce me to some pictures where she was still a little filly, especially when accompanied by comments from the elderly pony. But in my opinion, Applejack was invariably cute back then as she is now, just in her own way at each age. But now, as I recalled the contents of their family photo album, I suddenly felt very sorry for her. She loved her family more than life itself but couldn't see them due to insurmountable circumstances. It was unbearable to see how much it pained her inside, even though she didn't show it outwardly.

"I hope your family's next reunion will still happen, and I'll see how you spend time together," I said with sincere hope, expecting my words to cheer her up. However, in response, a heavy sigh escaped her lips.

"Ah don't know," she said gloomily, looking away. "Honestly, Ah ain't got a lick of an idea how that could happen. After all that's goin' on here… we can't even get through to Canterlot. Why even talk 'bout the whole family?"

"Don't you believe things will get better?" I asked impassively. It seemed my assumptions about why she was sewing the family quilt alone were somewhat accurate.

"Not that Ah ain't believin', it's just… Ah'm 'fraid of holdin' onto hope that might not pan out. Ah couldn't stand it if somethin' happened to any of my kins. And keepin' them thoughts in my head's just plain unbearable," the farmer shared. Then, she glanced at me, handing over the mug, concluding, "Ah'm plum tired out from this here life, sugarcube."

"I understand," I said as gently as possible. My gaze turned toward the lowland separating Ponyville from Canterlot Mountain. Even at night, there was a faintly glowing, almost colorless, deathly-green haze lingering there, which I assumed kept any pony from the capital away. Taking a sip of cider, I softly continued, "I'm tired too. We've fended off the twenty-fourth attack, but what's the use? They'll strike again, and we'll have to start over. Preparing defenses against them is like building a sandcastle by the sea. The wave will inevitably come, and there'll be nothing left. And these plants are sacrificing their lives for us."

"Do ya feel sorry for 'em too?" Applejack asked, a bit surprised. When I nodded in agreement, she glanced away and almost whispered, "Ah thought Ah was startin' to get as sentimental as Fluttershy. But Ah guess… you too…"

"They've long been more than just plants for us," I asserted confidently. "And we're not that different from them. We're tied to the farm like they are to the soil, needed only to protect the harvest, not knowing if those we're safeguarding it for are alive or not. Zombies could have already reached the Crystal Empire, especially if the lights in Canterlot are deceiving us, and we're stuck here – far down south – like in a damned snow globe. And my world has probably long perished."

"Ya miss yer home?"

"Sometimes," I replied. "Of course, I was never as happy anywhere as in Equestria, but life was good there. Nothing like today. But the most important thing was that I had prospects. There and here. And each of you had them too. But now there are none. No prospects, no hopes, nothing. Only ghosts of the past, a dimming glimmer of faith that somehow things will still work out, and hordes of walking dead. We seem like a relic of life in the midst of a sea of death. It's not easy to comprehend, let alone accept."

Having poured out all the negativity that had been building up inside me throughout this month, I placed the half-empty mug on the table and, resting my elbows on my knees, clasped my head with my hands. We were dying, nowhere left to run, and I really didn't want to accept that thought. But it was too glaringly obvious. In silent frustration, I rubbed my temples slightly, then shifted my palms to my face when suddenly something gently enveloped me. Opening my eyes, I saw the ginger hooves of my friend embracing me.

"Better?" she whispered with a reassuring smile. It was touching that she returned to me what I had done for her just before the attack. And though a simple hug might seem ordinary, sometimes it meant more than anything in the world. This was one of those moments.

"Much," I confirmed, straightening slightly and reaching out to her shoulder. "Only because of this, it feels better. Because we're together. As long as there are two of us, our fight makes sense. Even if the whole world perishes, we must fight for each other. That's why I'm not giving up, no matter what happens. I hope you won't either."

"Ah ain't givin' up the family farm to 'em, even if Ah'm left alone, so ya can stop worryin' 'bout me," shrugged the blonde. "Besides, long as we ain't certain there ain't nopony else 'round these parts besides us, the harvest's gotta be preserved. But… how much longer do we gotta keep on guard? They're gonna get us one way or another, ain't they?"

"Can't deny that," I didn't lie. "But we'll stand our ground as long as we can. Tomorrow we'll build a new torch and try to grab their attention, and if there's no one left in Canterlot, we'll hold out until someone else comes for us. We'll make it through the winter, and come spring, we'll manage a winter wrap up ourselves if need be, but we won't give in. Even if everyone dies, we will continue to fight at least just for life – for what's left of it."

"Well," murmured Applejack, glancing away for a moment before returning her gaze to mine, "and how long are ya willin' to fight these critters?"

"I'm willing to fight them forever," I declared, caught up in her gaze, a silent plea for hope. Leaning closer, I nestled into her ear and whispered, "Just as long as I can be by your side, sugarcube…"