The match almost winked out, but a moment after Applebloom was certain she would have to hunt down another one, the flame pounced on the dry barn wall and edged towards the gasoline soaked bales of hay. Applebloom hefted her bloody shovel and turned away, took a few steps, then bent over and vomited, narrowly missing her boots. Behind her, the small flame was becoming a hearty blaze. There was no scrapping or thumping from behind those doors. She had seen to that.
Her vomiting turned to little more than a series of dry, heaving gags. Why had Applejack chosen now to leave the farm? Why did Big Macintosh think he could keep Granny in the barn, along with the other bitten refugees, and why did he have to hide his own bites? There had been so many bodies, so much work, and Big Mac had escaped.
Applebloom nearly swore, but caught herself. She was used to tough chores, but this? This was too much. She straighten up and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. Now the barn was engulfed in flames. Soon it would follow the gasoline to the main house, and, if the wind kept going like it was, it might even hit the orchard. This elicited no emotion from Applebloom, but she did lean back over and heave up what little was left in her stomach.
It wouldn't do to stay here. She knew that. She also knew that if this thing had spread all the way to Appaloosa, her sister would be rushing back as quickly as possible to save her family. Applebloom lifted her shovel again, only to deposit it in a red wagon a moment later. The wagon was her pride and joy. She'd bought it with her own allowance money- seven months of hard work. It had aided in plenty of adventures, and would aid in one more. Folded in the corner was a map, the quickest path to Appaloosa, marked with a bright red "X." If all went well, Applejack would follow the same route, and they would meet at some point along the way.
Applebloom picked up the handle of the wagon and trudged down the hill. As she passed through the gate at the front of the house, the all consuming urge to vomit once more overtook her. She leaned over, gasping and gagging on nothing. Her heart hammered wildly. Leaving. Leaving forever. The barn groaned as its supports were destroyed, then toppled into a spinning inferno. Applebloom resumed walking, still queasy.
"Just follow the train tracks," she said, "follow the train tracks, and y'll get there. It'll be okay. Ah'm okay. Just follow the train tracks."
She repeated this as she trudged along the edge of Ponyville. Fluttershy's cottage squatted in the distance, and Applebloom was tempted to check in on the reclusive young woman. She had always been so kind and caring, and she could probably use the help. But the train tracks and the idea of Applejack called. Fluttershy was tougher than she looked. She wrestled bears for fun. A few crawling corpses wouldn't cause her too much trouble.
Applebloom continued walking, eyes on the ground, heading for the train station.
"It'll be alright. Ah'll be alright." she chanted. The shovel rattled in the wagon, blood crusting on its metal head.
Tough love was the first lesson of the Apple family.