... Into The Fire
It only got worse from there.
Yeah, I was beaten half to death by a mutant freak with a pipe. Yeah, I was bleeding to death in the middle of a burning building with zombie ponies everywhere. And yeah, I lost Marigold.
But even after all that, there was still much worse that happened.
And still I had amnesia when I thought about that pony in the gas mask. Who was he? And why was he here? I was determined to find out.
But first I had to get out of that bucking building...
*Begin Transmission*
Dark.
That's all Golden Harp could see. Darkness.
His head hurt, his whole body hurt, and he was bleeding. A lot. If he didn't move soon, he was going to die.
He put one hoof to the ground, then another, and pushed himself up.
He was shaking like a leaf, soaked in his own blood, barely able to see through his broken glasses, and barely conscious in the middle of a corridor flooded with nothing but darkness.
He started to panic.
His breath quickened, then began to drag out as he tried to calm down.
"Take it easy, Golden Harp," he said. "Panicking isn't gonna solve anything. Let's start with finding out what floor you're on."
He took a step toward the darkness, placing a hoof against the wall, trying to feel his way along it. He felt nothing but concrete. He grunted in frustration, and started to reach a little farther. Then, finally, he felt wood.
And that wood happened to be a door that was busted open.
He lost his balance when the door swung open, and fell into the room. He hit the floor, and felt himself land on hard tile. Cursing to himself, he put a hoof against his aching head, and started to push himself up, when he heard a click from the darkness. He looked up, one eye squinted shut in pain, only for the other to see the barrel of a gun pointed at his head. He stopped to think for a moment. He didn't know if he was happy to know that there was another living pony with him, or if he was ticked off that they were pointing a gun at his face after he fell Celestia knows how many floors to the basement after being attacked by a mutated scientist. He went for the second option.
'Look, buddy, I just-"
"Shut up," the pony said. A mare, it sounded like. "I dunno who the buck ya are, but I don't plan on dyin' in this Celestia forsaken hole. Now I'm gonna ask ya three questions, and if ya answer them to my liking, I'll decide whether or not I should put a bullet through yer brain box. Ya got me?"
Golden Harp groaned inwardly.
"Good. Ya armed?"
"No."
"Ya work for Harrow?"
"No."
"Ya bit?"
"Why would I be-?"
The pistol clicked in front of Golden Harp's face.
"... No."
The mare paused for a moment, then the pistol moved away from Golden Harp's face.
"I ain't gonna kill ya," the mare said. "But I'll sure as snitch kill ya if ya follow me." The pony shoved past Golden Harp, and trotted out into the dark hallway. Suddenly, a bright blue light flooded the corridor. It came from the pony's horn.
The pony was a mare, grey with a light blue mane and eyes, and a bundle of blueberries as her cutie mark. She was wearing nothing more than a small, leather pistol holster and a very annoyed look.
The mare turned left, away from where Golden Harp had landed, and headed down the hall with her magic shining through the hall. Golden Harp finally came back to his senses, and ran out after her.
"Hey, wait!" Golden Harp yelled. He started to run after her, when the light coming from the mare's horn disappeared. Golden Harp stopped dead, but before he could call out after the mare. there was a leg at his throat, pinning him against the wall.
"I told ya, I ain't gonna babysit ya," the mare said. "And if I have to put ya down to make sure that don't happen, I'll do it before ya even have time to wet yerself. Ya got me this time?"
Golden Harp pushed the mare off of him. She stumbled back, but didn't shoot. She kept the pistol aimed at Golden Harp. She tried to say something, but Golden Harp cut her off.
"No, you're gonna get what I've got to say." He trotted towards the mare, and she didn't flinch. "I've been beaten, thrown Celestia knows how many floors to the basement of this pit, I've lost my mare friend who may or may not be dead, and you're the only pony that I can find that hasn't been mutated into some kinda freak." Golden Harp trotted so close to the mare that she had the pistol pressed against his chest. "Now if you're gonna kill me, you're gonna have to think: How long are you gonna last down here?"
The mare thought about that for a second, and then lowered the pistol. "Alright, bud. Ya bought yerself some time." She turned away from Golden Harp, staring down the dark corridor that led further into the building. "But we ain't friends. We're gonna get outta here alive, and you'll be on yer merry little way. Ya got me?"
"Oh, yeah?" Golden Harp thought of a good way to distract her from walking away. "Well what is a soft little peach like you doing down here? It's dangerous, y'know."
The mare ignored his sarcastic remark and kept walking, but still answered his question. "Them Harrow ponies have mah daughter. Mah idiot of a husband took her here, and I'm here to get her back. He took her here to keep her safe, he said. Fancy job he's doin' with that." The mare pressed a slightly open door back with her pistol in her magic, and pointed it around inside. When she saw nothing, she kept going. "Anyways, he tried to use her in sum kinda experiment er somethin', so I came in here, guns ablaze to get her. He's lost his everlovin' mind. Calls himself William now-"
Golden Harp cut her off. "Wait. Your husband is William Buck?"
"Yeah," the mare said slowly. "Whaddaya know 'bout him?"
"Me?" Golden Harp asked. "Nothing. But I do know that he's one of those mutated freaks that threw me in this pit. Grew three times his size, and was running around, swinging a pipe at anything that moved. You hear about that?"
The mare just started to laugh. "It's 'bout time his lab toys got him all messed up. He dead yet?"
"Dead?" Golden Harp asked. "He's practically invincible. He's been shot so many times it's ridiculous that he's still standing. He's a trotting brick wall."
"Well, now, ain't that somethin'?" The mare made her way through another door into a hallway lined with pipes and a grated floor stretching the expanse into more darkness. "You don't think that was an accident, do ya?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Golden Harp trotted up behind the mare as she trotted down the hall. He adjusted his glasses. The mare stopped.
Without looking back, she said, "Some ponies would rather die with their secrets than let the world see 'em."
"So you're saying Buck did that to himself?" Golden Harp asked.
"I ain't sayin' nothin'," the mare replied, continuing to trot down the hall. "I'm just sayin' it might be possible that mah husband got that way 'cause he was protectin' himself, or 'cause somepony else wanted to shut him up." Golden Harp immediately remembered the pony with the gas mask.
"Hey, about that, did you happen to see a pony in heavy armor and a gas mask? Big, burly stallion with a no-nonsense attitude?"
The mare turned to look at him. "Ah don't think so. What's it to ya?"
Golden Harp just shrugged. "I don't know. I just thought I saw him up top somewhere. Just seemed important."
"Well, ah hate to break it to ya," the mare said as she continued to trot down the hall, "but this ain't the time t' be lookin' for a date."
"Hey!" Golden Harp snapped back as he started to follow the mare again. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. I just don't think a pony in that much armor would be hanging around a research facility unless somepony asked him to be here. I think he's guarding something. Or somepony."
"Y'think he's protectin' Buck?" the mare asked, checking over the rail of the walkway, looking down into nothing but darkness.
"I think so."
"Well, yer wrong." The mare went on the move again, and Golden Harp followed.
"How do you know?"
"Did he have anythin' on his suit that'd be a clue? A badge? A symbol?" Golden Harp though back for a moment, then remembered the red and white hexagon on the stallion's suit.
"The Harrow's End symbol."
"And d'ya think Harrow would hire somepony like him just t' be a guard?"
"You're not saying..."
"Ah sure am." The mare came up on a door at the end of the hall, but turned to address Golden Harp before opening it. "That pony wasn't protectin' Buck. Harrow personally sent him here t' shut him up."
"So he turned his own experiment on himself." Golden Harp concluded. "Why?"
"Ah've got a good guess," the mare said. "Th' choice looked like this to me: Either destroy his life's work, wastin' all those years fer nothin', let th' ponies who came fer him take it away, or put it t' use with th' only test subject in hoof's reach."
"You think he knew what it would do to him?" Golden Harp asked.
"Ah think t' him, anythin' other than losin' his life's work looked like a bright idea. Now let's get outta here 'fore somepony finds us." The mare turned to the door, her gun at the ready. Very carefully, she reached out her hoof and turned the knob. Just as the latch came loose, the door burst open.
An Infected was waiting on the other side of the door, and bashed it open as soon as it heard the click of the door. The mare was thrown backward, the gun knocked from her magic. It slid across the grated floor and clanged against one of the pipes on the wall. The mare hit the floor with a loud bang, and the Infected fell right on top of her as its muzzle hit her shoulder. The mare screamed as the Infected bit down, taking a chunk of flesh out of her shoulder. Blood welled from her wound, and this brought Golden Harp to action. He dashed across the hall and grabbed up the gun, aiming it straight at the Infected. In almost a split second that felt like minutes to Golden Harp, he pulled the trigger and a bullet sent the Infected sprawling with a bullet hole where one dead white eye had been. He stopped dead. He had just killed what looked like an undead pony. Now, to Golden Harp, he had no idea that the pony was dead. He thought it was sick or deranged or something. This put him into more shock than the mare's wound. Upon remembering this, he snapped back to his senses, and ran to the mare.
The mare was clutching her wounded shoulder, and tears were welling in her eyes, as she said, "That little punk bit me!" She gently pulled herself up into a sitting position and held her hoof in place, blood pouring down her leg. She pulled the hoof away and examined the grisly wound. "He got me pretty good." She groaned. "Ow, this really hurts like a-"
"Hey," Golden Harp cut her off. "We gotta get you out of here. You're gonna bleed out pretty quick if we don't get you medical attention."
"Oh, don't worry about me," the mare said almost halfheartedly. "I'm gonna be fi-" Before she could continue, she let out a pained gasp, then grit her teeth together as something happened that Golden Harp would've never believed if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. The wound in the mare's shoulder looked like it was stitching itself back together. Small strands of flesh were pulling towards each other on the surface and deep inside the wound, and both muscle and skin were pulling back together. The mare was groaning through her teeth the whole time, and by the time the muscles had stopped, the wound was gone, and a fresh patch of hair grew over the new layer of skin. Golden Harp couldn't see a single sign that there was any kind of injury. Golden Harp was stunned speechless. The mare was flexing her newly healed shoulder when she noticed Golden Harp's expression. "Oh, right. I should probably explain that."
"Yeah," Golden Harp said. "That'd be nice."
The mare sighed. "Maybe I should start from the beginning." She shut the door the Infected came through and sat down. "You can probably tell that the accent was fake. It's a disguise. It's what I use when I want to hide my identity. Her name's Buckaroo, but my real name's Beebe for short. My real name doesn't matter. I hate my real name. What's yours?"
Golden Harp sighed, and sat down too. "Golden Harp, Manehattan P.D."
"A cop, huh?" Beebe said. "I can see why you're here. You're after my husband-" she caught herself and paused. "I mean not my husband. Buck wasn't my husband, so I think I should get that out in the open."
"So if he's not your husband, who is he, and what're you doing here?"
The mare looked down at the floor and scratched the back of your head. "Well, you see, I was actually trying to get out, not find him. He was the one who told me to get out before things got... Ugly." Bebee looked up at Golden Harp. "He's been doing some really weird, really bad things in that lab up there. He's bent on making a lot of bits for a very dangerous experiment. I don't really know what's in it, but I can imagine it's like what I was exposed to. A little while back, I was exposed to some kind of virus as he called it, and he gave me an antidote before I 'turned'. I didn't really get it at the time, but when I broke my leg once and it practically snapped itself back into place, I started asking questions. He did everything short of threatening me to make sure I kept my muzzle shut on this. It's come in handy, yeah, but it's not exactly something you can talk about on a date. After seeing all these dead ponies coming back, I think whatever he made got loose. And in the way they bite at ponies I can only assume that's how it spreads, but it might be with contact in general, so that's why I asked if you were bit." She levitated the pistol off the floor and slid it into a holster at her waist. "Sorry for pointing a weapon at you. I just had to make sure, and sell the character."
"Don't worry about it," Golden Harp said. "It's not the first time somepony put a gun in my face. Now, you never answered my question. If Buck's not your husband, who is he?"
Beebe seemed almost hesitant on telling Golden Harp the truth, but she sighed when she knew she couldn't hide the truth anymore. "Well, I think it'd help to at least tell you my real name. It's Back Buck. William Buck was my father, and he's the reason I'm a regenerative freak."
*Transmission Ended*