//------------------------------// // Chapter 11 Recuited // Story: Friendship is Infectious // by Brony-327 //------------------------------// Big Macintosh was worried. Applejack should have come back to the farm several hours ago. When he expressed his concern to Granny Smith, she just smiled at him. “Oh Mac, yer jus’ bein’ a nervous nelly again. She’s probably just kickin’ up her hooves a bit. Enjoyin’ herself, ya know? She’s been workin’ so hard o’ late. Give her time. She’ll be back.” Macintosh didn’t share her enthusiasm. Something seemed off. He sensed it as he walked through the orchard. The trees, the grass, even the sky above was clouded. The very air around screamed a silent message of unease. And fear. Every hair on his body stood erect, straining as if to escape the coming terror. The last time Mac had felt something like this, he and A.J. had lost their parents. Tragic story really. The papers listed it as an unfortunate zap apple accident. Applejack hadn’t smiled or even spoken for almost a full year afterwards. Macintosh heard Applebloom trotting up behind him, and he did his best to hurriedly dry the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Big Macintosh! Come quick!” Mac heard the panic in little Applebloom’s voice, and he turned quickly. “What’s wrong half-pint?” “Filthy Rich and Diamond Tiara are plum outta their minds! Said somethin’ ‘bout crazy ponies in Ponyville!” “Where are they now?” “Granny’s lookin’ after ‘em. They’re both fine, ‘cept Mr. Rich got a bite on his neck. Granny bandanged it up right away. Tiara don’t got a scratch on her, but now her pa keeps complain about a tummy ache.” Mac stiffened. Bite marks? Stomach ache? Sounded like a story he’d heard from that explorer pony, what was his name? Dr...something? He talked about a mysterious illness that made ponies go crazy when they were bit. But why would it be here in Ponyville? “Git on, young ‘un. It’s probably nothin’, but we’re better safe than sorry.” Applebloom scrambled on, and Big Macintosh took off in the direction of the farmhouse. He stopped at the front door. It was open, and a trail of blood led around back, towards the woodshed. He tried to cover Applebloom’s eyes, but it was too late. She had seen it. “M-M-Macintosh? W-W-What’s goin’ on?” “Lissen little sis. Ah don’ have time to explain things. We need to get outta here, an’ fast.” A low growl caused him to turn around. Filthy Rich stood there, but his eyes were completely white, and a bloody green foreleg was clutched in the teeth. He dropped it and advanced, mouth stretched agape, ready to devour Mac in one large gulp. But the stallion had no plans on being dinner to a crazy pony. Grabbing Applebloom’s bow in his teeth, he slung her through the open doorway, diving in behind and kicking the door shut. A pounding began on the other side of the large wooden door. Mac gave a small grin. He had built that door himself. He knew it could take a heak of a beating before it broke. But it would break. They had to get out of there. He began to head towards the back door when more groans from that direction stopped him. Were there more of these things? Then he saw a sight that made his very soul grow cold. Granny Smith lay in front of the back door. She had been torn to pieces and shouldn’t be alive, but somehow she was. She growled and gnashed her teeth at Mac and Applebloom as she tried to drag her mangled corpse towards them. There was nothing they could do. She was one of them now. Mac began to gallop up the stairs. He looked back to see Applebloom standing perfectly still as Granny Smith inched closer and closer to the yellow earth filly. Behind Granny, many more creatures shambled their way towards the back door, and began pushing through it. “Applebloom! Git away!” She didn’t move. She just stood and watched the remains of Granny Smith draw nearer. Macintosh flew back down the stairs and pulled Applebloom back right as the green mare made a movement somewhere between a flop and a lunge, her teeth just barely missing the yellow filly’s flank. Applebloom was limp, her eyes staring at some unseen point in the distance. Mac carried her upstairs to the attic, where he gently set her against one wall. He then went back and closed the door, making sure both bolts were securely fastened. He checked Applebloom’s vitals. She was in massive shock, but she’d be OK. That is, if they could get out of here. He looked around for some form of escape and his eyes landed on the old pulley system. They had used it to move stuff from the attic to the ground below without having to carry things up and down flights of stairs. That just might work. Then he realized he would have to stay behind to lower Applebloom down. In her condition she wouldn’t get far before those things got to her. He heard a pounding start on the attic door. They didn’t have much time... “Please Mr. Mac sir!” Shrieked a small voice. “Please let me in!” He ran over and wrenched the door open to see Diamond Tiara. She had lost her namesake crown and her carefully groomed mane unraveled in all directions. Macintosh had an idea. He guided the terrified little filly inside, closing and re-bolting the door. “Take it easy, little filly. Ah’m gonna getcha outta here. But Ah need ya ta do exactly, what Ah say. Yeh unnerstand?” She completely ignored him, continuing to cry and babble. “What’s wrong with my daddy? Why did he try to hurt me? What’s going on here? I want my daddy!...” She was silenced by a small yellow hoof being gently pressed against her lips. “Hold on now, mah big brother’s got a plan. So ya need to stop that ruckus and lissen to ‘im.” Macintosh had to admire his little sister’s ability to get herself and other ponies under control. He gave her an approving nod, then turned his attention back to the now quiet but still trembling Diamond Tiara. “Ah’m gonna get yeh filly’s outta here, no need to fret none. But Ah need ya to watch each other’s flank’s out there. Can ya promise me that?” Applebloom couldn’t understand what she was hearing. “But Big Macintosh, we can’t leave ya here! Those thing’ll getcha! Ya gotta come with us!” Big Macintosh shook is head. “Can’t come with ya sis, much as Ah might like to. Somepony gotta lower the basket, an’ it only makes sense that the job get done by the biggest an’ strongest of us. An’ unless either of ya fillies are stronger than me, Ah think we all know who’s stayin’ behind.” Applebloom stomped her hoof. “We ain’t leavin’ ya!” Macintosh gave her a sad smile. “You don’ got no choice, young ‘un. Yer both gettin’ in that basket if’n Ah have ta hog-tie ya mahself.” A crashing against the attic door told Mac that time was short. Quickly he gathered both fillies into the basket, and gently began lowering it out the window. Once the basket was on the ground, Mac called to them. “Alright fillies. Make fer Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie Pie’ll know what ta do. An’ Applebloom?” “Yeh Big Macintosh?” “Ah love ya sis. I’ll see ya later.” “Ah...Ah love ya too big brother.” “Ya two need ta git movin’! Git!” As he watched the two fillies gallop through the orchard towards Ponyville he sighed. He knew he wouldn’t see little Applebloom again. Or Applejack. He wouldn’t even be able to tell the mare of his dreams how he felt about her. Oh Fluttershy. She was so kind to all. So understanding. So gentle. He loved everything about that beautiful mare. Her mane, the way it flowed about her face. Her eyes, the way their deep and penetrating gaze... No. He was going to live to get out of here. Not only that, he was going to take every last one of those things down if that’s what it took to protect the ones he loved. This was his moment. He had to find something to use as a weapon. He grabbed a nearby axe, and used some rope to tie it to his hind leg. He also filled a duffel bag with a shovel, some nails, an extra length of rope, and a couple dried apples. Finally setting a wooden bucket atop his head, he gripped a hoof scythe in his teeth and with a growling “Eeeyup”, he flung the door open to greet the oncoming creatures. It was a short battle. With one swing, Macintosh severed Filthy Rich’s head from his shoulders. He then proceeded to hack and slash through the rest of the teeming horde. He was a machine, one of the legendary War-Horses of old. Unstoppable. Part hurricane, part tank. He battled on, fueled by a determination to protect. Dozens of the infected went down before his wrath. The floor became a macabre lake of blood and gore. As he fought on, he began to grow tired. There were more of the things then he’d planned on. But he had to keep fighting. He tripped and went down. The creatures leapt eagerly upon his fallen body, sensing a feast. Big Macintosh knew his end was upon him. He would never be able to tell Fluttershy he loved... He rolled on his back and bucked, flinging the assailants into the far wall. Before they could recover he was on them again. He seemed to grow larger as he fought on towards the door. One filly sank it’s teeth into his shoulder. He felt no pain, merely annoyed that he had let his guard down. Macintosh shook the filly off and stomped down, crushing her skull under one hoof. Suddenly the rest of the creatures fell back, and he was left standing alone in the center of the room, surrounded by a pile of bodies and severed limbs. He wondered why they did not press their advantage. He was wounded. Then he saw the zebra standing in the open doorway. “Zecora?” He gasped aloud. The zebra gurgled, and he heard a voice in his head. It was his voice, though horribly distorted and mangled. Like somepony was speaking to him through a layer of water. That is no longer our name. You no longer possess a name either. He shook his head. Of course Ah do. It’s Big Macin- THAT IS NO LONGER YOUR NAME. The earth stallion gave a small snort. Beggin’ yer pardon, but it is. No longer your name. He must fight this evil. He began to repeat his name over and over in his head. Mah name is Macintosh. Mah name is Macintosh. You have no name. Macintosh. Macintosh. No name. Ah...I have no name. We have no name. But we have need of you. We have a plan to rule not just this world, but one beyond. We would make you our General, controlling our armies, leading them like an unstoppable tide over all worlds. I would give my life for the honor. Yes. You shall. The Zebra gave a nod, welcoming this great warrior to her ranks. He would make an excellent leader. Maybe he might even rule by her side. But she would worry about that later. For once again, it was time to feast. There were still survivors in other villages. Plenty of recruits and food. Her next target would be Trottingham.