//------------------------------//
// Chapter 18 A Bigger Picture 
// Story: Undead Equestria 
// by Sorren 
//------------------------------//

	Black Dove chewed the tip of her wing in thought as she watched the clouds race by below.
        
        “Five minutes until touchdown, Marshal.” A gray stallion watched her from the partition door of the skywagon like he wanted some sort of recognition for interrupting her. She showed that recognition with an angry glance away from the window that made the stallion bow and close the door.
        
        Dove sighed. She’d received a request from the Fleet Admiral himself three days ago, stating that her presence was required aboard the Celestia as soon as possible. And as if sending her Colonel wasn’t enough, the second transmission made it clear that the matter was urgent and she was needed in the very flesh.
        
“Sure,” she muttered under her breath. “Whatever’s convenient for you, Admiral. It’s not as if I have important matters at my own hooves here.” Time was short, and this trip was costing her. Baltimare was currently on the brink of being completely overwhelmed, and the worst part of it was that she couldn’t do a single damned thing to help them. Baltimare needed reinforcements; hell, it needed an entire army! But she didn’t have an army; she had what was left of one. And now, because she couldn’t do anything about it, there was a good chance that they would lose control of the only civilian-safe stronghold under REA jurisdiction; not only would it be a terrible loss, but the REA would also lose their recruiting grounds and any credibility as a civilian safeguard.

In the southwest, she had units defecting and there wasn’t a single thing that could be done about it without sending more ponies out there and risking the same downfall. Because of reports and heresay that ponies claiming REA jurisdiction were enslaving and raping whomever they pleased, wearing the uniform anywhere out west was a no-go. Everything was going downhill all at once, and it didn’t look good.

Scouting teams she’d sent to Las Pegasus still didn’t return, Canterlot was a complete loss, long given up despite its geological strongpoint, and to top it all off, pegasus ponies were becoming harder and harder to come by. Just gathering four to pull the wagon had taken plenty of leg-tweaking—something the Celestia-damned Army marshal should never have to do.

The skywagon dropped through the cloud layer as the pulling team began their descent. Vast, blue ocean spanned out beneath, the green shoreline far behind. From the gray smudge on the horizon that was Baltimare, black smoke rose like a distress signal she couldn’t answer.

Dove held on to the handle that dangled just below the window as they banked around for the line-up. Five ships floated gracefully in the still waters below, steam trickling from the stacks of the immobile vessels. “Oh look at me!” she mimicked in a pseudo, gritty stallion’s voice. “I’m Admiral Striker, and I’m important because I have a battleship!” She huffed and rolled her eyes. Four gunships surrounded a much larger vessel with a long deck across the top for landing and storing skywagons. “...I wish I had a battleship,” Dove muttered sourly.

The flight crew she’d managed to cobble together wouldn’t even be trusted to haul a wagon of feather dusters ten feet, let alone land safely upon the deck of a floating vessel. Dove held on for dear life as the skids hit the deck with enough force to knock her against the wall.

The landing proved one step away from the word crash. Dove staggered to the door, feeling a little rattled. Not waiting for it to be opened for her, as regulation stated, she butted it open and hopped down to the deck. Sighing, she flared her wings and took a moment to enjoy the cool ocean breeze as it ruffled her feathers. The enjoyment was short-lived however. Quickly, she folded her wings and brushed her white mane out of her eyes. She smoothed down a few rough patches on her graphite-colored coat, then righted her uniform. Striker still held on to the old ways, and last thing she wanted was him doing something stupid like trying to accuse her of improper etiquette. If avoidable, she always avoided wearing her uniform in general. The REA gray was just not meant to be worn over a black coat. The two colors clashed like crazy.

“Marshal!” A pony broke out of the gathering crowd and Dove recognized him immediately.

“Colonel Graham,” she returned formally, trotting forward to meet him. Sure the graham crackers on his flanks looked tasty, but he was anything but. “There better be a good reason for this.” Two armed guards took up position on either side of them, and Dove speculated whether they were there to protect her or to keep her in line. Knowing Striker, they were probably for the latter.

“I can assure you, Marshal, there is.” He motioned with his tail. “Admiral Striker is waiting below deck.” Graham acted like he wanted to lead, but a shooty look from one of their escorts forced him back to stand beside Dove.

A stallion led the way as Dove and Graham followed a little behind, two more taking up the rear. It was thoroughly aggravating getting stares from the staff and crew of the vessel as they navigated the corridors. Here, out of her jurisdiction, she might as well be a civilian. Somewhere from down a hall, she heard a wolf whistle that prickled the hair along her spine. If that had been one of her officers, he would be strung up by his hind legs and gelded.

Her escorts seemed to be taking amusement in her visible anger as well.

“Marshal... don’t start anything,” Graham whispered. “Striker’s word is law. He could kill us both now if he wanted to and nopony would do a damned thing about it.”

She glared at him, but nodded. Of course, Graham was right; she just didn’t like being told things she already knew.

“Marshal?” he said suddenly.

She groaned. “Yes?”

“Remember that forward message from Bottle of Progress about that pegasus stallion with full immunity?”

Dove’s ears perked. Maybe she would actually receive some good news for once. “Go on.”

“He’s been confirmed missing, probably dead. Apparently the location he was set to be transferred to was smack dab in ground zero.”

Hope shattered. “Well keep looking for him. Send out a radio transmission as soon as you can calling for an eyes out. If he’s found, I want him brought straight to me. No detours, no testing. Straight. To. Me. Understood?”

Graham nodded, but he wore the same look she did. Somewhere in the back of Dove’s mind, her sarcastic inner-self snorted in contempt. Heh, keep dreaming. They’ll find him. They’ll find him just like they found your husband and two foals who never passed the infection check.

“Shut up,” she hissed to herself.

The escorts led them around a corner and through a series of tight corridors that made the pegasus part of Dove rather uncomfortable. Eventually, they emerged into a large, domed room with a circular map that took up at least half of the space in the very center.

“The admiral is just inside,” said one of the stallions, nodding to a wooden door on the other side of the room. He took a step back, then motioned for the other two to do the same. The doors closed a moment later, leaving Dove and Graham alone.

“What’s this about?” Dove asked quietly as they paced their way around the giant map.

Graham shook his head. “Something important; that’s all I could get out of him.”

Reaching the door, Dove sat back and flared her wings. They were large, heavy things—a real mess to preen on her own. She flattened a few feathers, then folded them down against her uniform. Lastly, she adjusted her collar, then turned to Graham. “Well, how do I look?”

“Graham bit his lip for a second. “Permission to be truthful, Marshal?”

She cocked a brow. “...Permission granted.”

“Like you could use a break.”

Dove actually grinned. It was a fragile grin, but a grin nonetheless. She took a deep breath, then pushed open the door.

Admiral Striker sat behind his desk, staring off into space. Honestly, Dove was surprised he wasn’t salivating over a bottled ship collection or something just as cliché. His dull, blue-gray coat and his gray mane reflected his age better than any number, that, and the gray lining his chiseled muzzle. A single desk lamp lit his features, the rest of the room remaining in darkness. Whether he did this for effect, or if he was just trying to save power, she wasn’t quite sure. Her ears flicked as Graham shut the door behind them.

Slowly, Striker lifted his head from the desk and forced a casual smile. “I was starting to think you’ve been avoiding me, Dove.” Like his appearance, his voice hinted at his age. It was low, slightly raspy, but in no way had it lost its power or authoritative tone that could have made anypony wary to cross him. Striker had always been an amazing public speaker.

“Admiral,” she said with a tiny hint of annoyance. “You’ve been in service longer than I’ve been alive; it’s not very easy to forget you.” Dove helped herself to the only seat opposite of Striker, leaving Graham to stand back by the door.

Admiral Striker chuckled and leaned forward against the desk. “And somehow in this last year things all went to the drink.” He sighed, and for a second he was just an old stallion. “You know, I was going to retire today. I had it all planned out and everything. The quiet life. Now without the Princesses, I’m head honcho.”

She deadpanned. “So what does that make me?”

He smirked. “The other head honcho.”

Dove shook her head. “Right... Any word yet?”

Striker slowly blinked. “We have learned nothing new. Her last known location was traced back to Horizon Laboratories, but beyond that, we simply do not know.”

Dove groaned. “Okay, but what of Luna?”

“She is still unresponsive. Brainwaves are flat—a side effect of The Pulse. It seems we cannot awaken her without killing her.”

Dove grit her teeth. “How could anypony let this happen?”

Striker’s eyes flashed. “Foolish ambition. The correct safeguards were not established. They were meddling with magic beyond understanding, magic that possibly was never meant to be understood. It was foolish and dangerous, and nopony was willing to put their hoof down and halt such progress.”

“But The Pulse? How could—”

“It was overlooked, Marshal. A discharge of unbalanced energy, or bad magic, or whatever they tried to say it was. Out of everything in this land, magic is the most powerful, and in turn, the least understood. Even Starswirl himself only skimmed the surface. Tampering with something so powerful, and so sacred, had nothing but ill effects in store.” He fired a tiny, silver spark from the end of his horn. “There is magic in the mind, in us, in our blood. And like water, it can be polluted... if only they’d realized it...”

Dove stomped a hoof. “But if somepony had known what they were doing, somepony like—”

“They would have encouraged it!” Striker interjected sharply. He stared off into space. “Just imagine... imagine the ability to use magic to preserve the body and mind, forever, just like the princesses. For as long as anypony can remember, they have ruled Equestria, strong and mighty! It would have been the greatest breakthrough in the history of ponykind... Just think... to never have to die. So much has been lost in death, knowledge and skill we can never get back. if Starswirl The Bearded were alive today, this could have all been avoided! Death is a terrible, terrible thing, that robs us all of everything we’ll ever have... just imagine if we could stop it... What if we never had to say goodbye?”

Dove swallowed. There was something in the Admiral’s eyes. He was no longer sitting in this dark room with her. He was somewhere else, his eyes glinting dangerously with outlandish ambition. “Sir... Admiral, Sir... Did you kn—”

“This is not why I requested your presence!” he snapped suddenly, jerking back to reality.

Dove stared for a moment more. Had they been in the presence of her own forces, she would have pressed, but she wasn’t safe here and it definitely wasn’t the time. “Why am I here, Admiral?”

Striker sighed. “You are familiar with the Elements of Harmony?”

She nodded. “Of course. Remember, I’m the one that proposed to you that we try to—”

“I am aware.” Dove sat brooding as he continued. She was getting tired of being cut off. “Well then, as we both know, the bearers, are still very much alive. Much like the princesses, they do not age; part of their magical bond with the Elements prohibits it.” He sighed. “To the point... The bearers have been lost. Not killed, but lost.”

Dove scoffed. “How in the name of Celestia do you just lose six ponies?”

“Quite easily.” His tone grew bitter. “You bury them.”

“E-excuse me... Sir?”

A projector flashed to life in the corner of the room and Dove jumped with a soft gasp. On the opposite wall, a sharp image of Canterlot appeared, though the map was only a line-art representation that slowly rotated on a three-dimensional scale. The city, covering a great deal of the mountain and the land below it, was a sight to behold, even in animated representation. “Celestia wanted to ensure the absolute safety of the Elements. And to do that, three-hundred zebra workers were blindfolded and transported to the palace, in secret I might add, to build th...” Suddenly, Striker hit a button and the projector died. “Marshal, what I am about to tell you does not leave this room, understood?”

Dove ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth, hating the way it felt like sandpaper. “Understood, Sir.” Behind her, the door cracked open and Graham was ordered out of the room.

“Right.” Striker brought the projection back up. “Deep within the base of the mountain, a vault was constructed.” A yellow rectangle appeared within the representation of the mountain. “There is one entrance: a twenty-five hundred foot access tunnel driving vertically through the mountain from somewhere within the royal palace.” Dove’s jaw hung open as a yellow line drew itself from the top of the mountain all the way down to the shape in the middle. “Two griffon-crafted, five foot steel doors guard either end of the tunnel, enchanted by Equestria’s greatest spellcasters to be unalterable, and unbreakable. There is only one way to open those doors, and it’s with a spell—a spell only one pony knows.”

Dove’s heart seemed to go sluggish. “...Celestia.”

“Bingo.” The tunnel flashed red in the projection. “Now, it is strong belief, that the Elements, and a number of Equestria’s aristocracy along with a handful of VIPs, were sealed within the mountain before the Army lost control of Canterlot. There has been speculation that Celestia is in there with them.”

“Is it possible...” Dove speculated. “Is it possible that Celestia is simply waiting to re-open the vault once things are safe?” The very thought disgusted her, but at the same time it seemed logical.

“If that is the case, then it is a cowardly thing to do. But that doesn’t matter. What it comes down to is that we can’t get in, and we don’t even know what’s in there. Even if we could infiltrate the city, which, thanks to failure of your Army, is now impossible—”

“Hey!”

“—we still can not get into the vault.”

Throughout the entire conversation, Dove had felt her irritation steady rising. “Okay, okay, answer me this.” She waved her forehooves towards the projection. “Why was I never informed of this!?”

“Simple. You didn’t need to know.”

“What do you mean I didn’t need to know!?” She thumped the desk with a forehoof. “We can fix all of this if—”

“No, Marshal,” Strider interrupted, yet again.

Dove ignored him and went on. “We can fix all of this with the bearers. We can end this!”

“No, Marshal!” Striker bared his yellowed teeth.

“We can find a way to open the vault! Get into the—”

“The vault doesn’t matter!”

“But—”

“Even if we had the Elements, and the bearers of them, it wouldn’t work!” He growled quietly as Dove fell into shocked silence. “This is magic we’ve never seen before.” He hit a few buttons on his desk and the projector switched to an image of a basic unicorn. “There are all different types of magic: unicorn is the most understood, but then there’s earth pony magic, pegasus, zebra, griffon, changeling, unique traces found within the crystal heart.” An image of each flashed on the screen as he spoke them aloud. “All different types of magic, but they all stem from the same basic root.” He rubbed his temples as if the subject was stressful for him. “Every living being has magic contained within them. It’s in our brains, in our blood! And it’s a little bit different for everypony. We have come to understand nearly everything in our existence... everything but the very essence inside our own bodies.”

Dove chewed her lip. “Is there a point to all this?”

Striker glared. “I’m getting there.” He took a moment to compose himself. “Whatever was done... whatever caused The Pulse, it destabilized... something. It altered the magic within us, or at least the ponies in range.” He propped himself on the desk. “Have you ever wondered why the disease is transferred from pony to pony through physical contact? It’s because of the magic in their blood! Whatever it is, it’s tainting them, and it spreads and consumes whatever life magic it comes into contact with. My scientists have come to believe that this is a self-defense mechanism.”

“Self defense?”

“It is what we believe.” He tapped his button and the outline of a brain appeared, the entirety of it colored different shades of blue, though purple vein-looking things ran all through it. “Red represents blood flow, blue represents magic. These are two different scans of the same brain, one taken to detect blood flow, and the other to detect magical energy. Don’t ask me how it was done, because I don’t know. But this is exactly how the normal pony brain should look.” He pointed towards the cluster of dark blue. “As you can see here, magic is in the mind, making it more than just a saying. These are all new studies, but from what my best unicorns have devised, the brain is every pony’s source of magic, or so it seems. And because it’s in the brain...” He waved his hoof at Dove.

“It... transfers to the bloodstream?” Dove suggested meekly.

“My point exactly.” Striker clicked the button again. “This is the same brain after being exposed to the virus for a time of no more than three days.”

It was the same picture, only there was hardly any blue in it. The red veins still remained, having never altered, but what little blue remained hovered in little patches and wisps. “Notice anything, Marshal?”

Dove bit her lip. “What does gray mean?”

“Gray’s nothing. It’s just to represent flesh and bone to give you a better picture.”

“Where’s the magic?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Striker huffed. “Our initial thought was that the virus destroyed magic. But how? Magic is energy, which can never fade or be destroyed...” He looked up to her.

Dove’s ears were perked straight up. “...but it can change form.” She could barely hear her own voice.

“So, we ran another scan on a lower frequency.” Striker reached for the button, hesitated, then hit it.

Dove gulped. “What’s yellow mean?”

Striker eyed the image with contempt. “We don’t know.” He killed the projection, hiding the picture of the yellow, blotchy brain. “It’s something we’ve never seen before. It’s never been mentioned, documented, or discovered. But what we know, is that it’s invasive. When exposed to what we know as normal magic, it wins.”

“Wins?” Something about didn’t sound good.

Striker nodded. “To simplify things, yellow and blue don’t get along with one another. When exposed, they battle. And ninety-nine-point-eight percent of the time, yellow wins.”

Dove thought back to the orange pegasus that Bottle of Progress had contacted her about. “So, that makes the other point-two percent immune?”

Striker shook his head. “Again, we aren’t sure.” Suddenly, he ducked down under his desk and came up with a small, metal case. “If you ever speak of what I’m about to show you, I will have you killed.”

Dove blinked. “E-excuse me, Admir—”

“You heard me!” he snapped, slipping the latches on either side of the box. Dove watched in perfect attention as Striker lifted the lid and carefully extracted a vial of electric-blue liquid. “This, is a bonding agent. It was made by extracting magic from the blood of a pony that falls under the point-two percent anomaly. It’s a magic-bearing slurry designed by Equestria’ finest to stabilize magical energy.”

Dove could feel her mouth going dry again. “...So what does it do?”

“It builds us an army.” Striker returned the vial to the case. “In that vial is magic stronger than anypony knows. When that magic is mixed with the tainted magic that we find in the brain of the infected, then injected into a living host, we get a hybrid of both.” His voice was starting to get a little zealous again. “Imagine a pony fully immune to sickness and disease, but with all the strength and speed of an infected pony! We could have an army with superpony strength. We could—”

Dove stomped her hoof. “How can you be thinking of weaponizing this!?” she snapped. “Don’t you see this could be used for a cure!? If the blood of those who show resistance can be used to... bond—” The word tasted sour on her tongue. “—ponies with the infection, it can be manipulated to cleanse the infection completely!”

“It can not, Marshal! And even if it could, chances are we’d only be bringing back a vegetable. We’ve no idea if the infected hold onto their memories after they turn.”

“But what if they do!?”

Striker boiled over, both forehooves slamming on the desk so hard that the lamp shook. “It doesn’t matter!”

Dove staggered back from the table. “Matter!?” she spat. “How can you risk so many, just to make a weapon!? We need a way to end this, not kill each other better! We actually have a chance to end this and you want to turn ponies into weapons!? You want to give them the virus!?” She staggered on her next few words. “You’ve gone senile!”

“You are ill informed, Marshal. This will help us end this!” Striker’s voice was low, and now, instead of anger, there was nothing in his eyes but cool intimidation. “Maybe you need some time to think.” The door behind her burst open and two guards trotted in. “We’ll speak of this later.”

Dove wasn’t quite sure what she felt in her gut as she was escorted from the room. Her entire body tingled like she’d been swimming in icy water, and the cold, churning feeling in her gut made her want to keel over.  Why had Striker even called upon her presence? Was it because he wanted her help? Because if so then he could forget it.

Bonding ponies with the virus to create super soldiers, or whatever Striker wanted them to be? Nothing about that sounded good.

She shivered. What would something like that do to a pony?


*                 *                 *


It was raining, though that put it nicely. Along with the rain came gale-force winds and hail the size of marbles. Moon sat against the wall in the back of the cab, watching Snowglobe gripe and wince at the clatter the hail made on the aluminum streamlining.

“The side of this engine’s going to look like a beach when this is over,” she grumbled.

Loco huffed and rolled his cigar to the corner of his mouth to talk. He’d chosen cherry-scented for the drive back. “It don’t matter how she looks. All that matters is how she performs. So what’s a few dents in an otherwise perfect body?”

Snowglobe gave him an exasperated, open-mouthed look. “You know, I can never tell if you’re talking about mares or trains.”

Loco just chuckled and blew a smoke ring at Snowglobe, who destroyed it with her forehoof.

As hard as Moon tried to find something to wallow about, nothing came to mind. Their plan had gone perfectly. They’d arrived at the station just in the nick of time, gotten everypony on board, and made it out in one piece. No mass number of ponies died, nothing blew up, nothing went wrong... It was too perfect.

So why didn’t she feel good?

It really didn’t feel like a victory. It felt just like leaving Appleoosa. There was relief, but that was about it. Moon’s hoof drifted up and pulled the band from her head, the one that Sage had given her as a sign of leadership. One hell of a leader she’d been. They were all dead now apart from a select few.

Moon hissed and went to toss the headband, but she couldn’t. Gritting her teeth, she looked at it for a long while, then slipped it back onto her head, hiding most of it with her mane. It was a reminder now. It represented her failure. She couldn’t just throw it away.

She was jolted back into things when the hiss of the airbrake filled the cabin. “Why’re we stopping?” She forced herself to her hooves. “We can’t be back to the station yet.”

Loco grunted. “That’s cause we’re not.”

Cloudstorm was nice enough to clarify. “Our lines have fallen back. The location you entered the city has been abandoned. All the civilians are being ordered to the docks.”

Moon blinked. “So... the ponies we left at the station will be here?” Her mind drifted to ponies like Range and Yew, that pink mare with her foal and Copper.

“They’ll be here, somewhere.”

The engine passed through a switching yard. Floodlights on either side of the tracks lit up anything and everything in the storm-induced darkness, REA ponies and civilians alike trotting this way and that as they tried to shelter from the weather. There were cheers and jeers directed at the engine, which Loco took in stride, blowing the horn a few times.

“This storm’s gonna be bad,” Cloudstorm muttered.

“Bad?” Moon raised an eyebrow as the hail all but put holes in the windscreen. “Isn’t this already bad?”

“This is nothing. Without pegasi controlling the weather, coastal cities get hit by the blunt of these storms when the clouds go rampant. We already got hit by one of these a month ago. I swear, the zombies even hid from it.”

A station was coming into view now, though the engine was at a crawl to allow ponies adequate time to clear the tracks. Countless REA ponies stood on the platform ahead, directing the masses towards a set of gates on the opposite side. Beyond the gates was a shipping yard and rows of monstrous warehouses that looked like they were meant to drydock battleships. Moon could see defenses being erected right before her very eyes. Steam shovels and unicorns were stacking slabs of concrete in place and rolling out chainlink fence, a small crew laying razorwire right behind them.

“Turn on the radio,” Cloudstorm commanded suddenly.

Loco did so, and immediately a whole babble of voices erupted from the console. Cloudstorm only shook her head. “Enter the code.” The stallion nodded and hit a few buttons, then cranked the knob around. A second later most of the chatter died out to be replaced by static.

“Marshal, do you copy? This is Colonel Waffles and I can’t make a move until I get your word.”

Cloudstorm snickered. “Waffles. I never could take him seriously. What sort of a parent names their foal ‘Waffles’?” She laughed a second more, then cleared her throat and wiped the grin off her face.

There was a sudden rush of static from the radio, accompanied by the faint voice of a mare. “Colonel, I don’t like that worry in your voice. What’s the situation?”

“Ma’am, an estimated sixty-two percent of the city has been compromised. The area to cover is too large for our forces to handle!”

“Well what is—” There was a crash and a grunt from over the airways. “Shit, watch it!” the mare’s voice cut out for a moment before fading back. “Sorry Colonel. We’re caught in one mother of a storm.”

“Marshal, if we want to have anything left we need to pull out and give up the city. If we try to defend any longer our forces will be scattered.”

It took the mare a full minute to reply, that time in which Moon was starting to think she had lost radio contact. “Fall back to retreat. Begin the evacuations—civilians first.”

“Yes... Marshal.”

The transmission ended.

“Shit,” Loco muttered. “Didn’t think it’d actually happen.” The engine screeched to a stop in the station. It was a dead end, stopping at a pair of buffers. “Well, this is where we get off.”

Snowglobe gave Loco a hard glare. “Well, what about our engine?”

Moon had to agree. “Er, yeah, we came here with it. We’d like to leave with it.”

Cloudstorm shook her head as she looked between Moon and Snowglobe. “The entire city’s being abandoned as we speak. You heard the order yourself. We’re closing up shop and locking the doors behind us, shutting down all our power. If you try heading back, you’ll get swarmed, and even if you make it to the gates, you won't be able to get them open.”

It took a moment for the overwhelming feeling of irritation to pass through Moon.

Snowglobe seemed to go blank. She stood stock still and Moon made a worried face at the mare. “Snowglobe... you okay?”

The little mare’s eyes were red, teeth clenched as she turned to face Moon. “This is all your fault!” she bellowed, causing everypony in the cabin to jump.

Moon dodged to the side with a surprised yelp as Snowglobe charged her.

“Dusty died so we could get to this engine!” Snowglobe lowered her horn and fired a spell at Moon. Not eager to find out what it was, Moon ducked to the side, and it was a good thing too. The ball of green magic whizzed right past her ear and blasted a football-sized chunk of metal out of the wall behind her.

“And now we’re going to lose it because you couldn’t keep your stupid mouth shut!” Cloudstorm tried to get a grip on Snowglobe as the mare charged moon, but the little unicorn wiggled out of the other’s grasp and barreled directly at Moon.

Without thinking, Moon levitated the fire extinguished from the wall behind her and swung it around. It sounded almost cartoonish, like a cooking pot being swung into somepony’s face. Snowglobe’s head snapped to the side and she hit the floor with a thud.

“What in Celestia’s name is wrong with you!?” Moon hollered, tossing the extinguisher away. “Dusty died because he got bit! It’s time you stopped crying about him; the rest of us have!”

Snowglobe turned her head to look up at Moon, her eyes a mixture of hurt and hate. A sharp cut adorned her brow, the same shape as the base of the fire extinguisher. Moon was sure she was going to hop back up, but to her surprise Snowglobe just curled up and sobbed.

Brick glared at Moon. What’s wrong with you? his eyes seemed to say, before he stopped down and gave Snowglobe’s side a soft nuzzle.

“I—” Moon stammered. “I... but she— I was angry and—”

“Shit happens.” Loco cut her off with a shake of his head and disconcerned snort.

Snowglobe sobbed openly, and the worst part was that Moon knew that cry. It was the cry of a lost pony. She’d heard too much of it. “Make it end,” she choked between breaths. “I can’t take it anymore!”

Moon shook her head as she looked down at the little mare curled against Brick. “This isn’t going to end.” She winced a little. Snowglobe’s left eye had burst a blood vessel and lines of red were snaking towards her pupil. She’d swung harder than intended. “We should head for the gates.” Now, if any, was a good time to change the topic.

Cloudstorm nodded, started to get up, then took a glance out the window and shook her head. “Wait until the train empties out a bit. This is basically the equivalent to a back door, and I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to stand in the rain. Give it five more minutes. Right now, with so many ponies, you guys could get separated at the checkpoint.”

“Wait, they’re checking for infection?” Moon asked with a little start. “That’ll take way too long!” She recalled Cloudstorm’s inspection just a few hours ago.

“Nah, they’ve got scanners.”

“Scanners? I didn’t think there was a way to check.”

The sergeant actually grinned a little. “There wasn’t until about a week ago. Then some scientist hiding out on a boat with the rest of the Navy came up with this crazy hard spell that almost no unicorn could pull off, but it could tell if a pony was infected. So the ponies that could do the spell enchanted hundreds of inventory scanners with modified circuits that let you scan the eyeball... or something like that. Anyways, don’t know how it really works, but I know it works. Damn thing’s a lifesaver.”


*               *               *


Willow was leaning on him, and for once, his mind wasn’t ringing any alarm bells. Her head resting on his shoulder didn’t burn like it should have. It just felt warm.

It was raining cats and dogs outside, and although the train had reached the station and everypony was heading out onto the platform, Willow had refused to go out and stand in the rain. Now, since the train had mostly emptied, they’d been left with their own booth.

Ember was the one who broke the silence. “So... are you two like...” She pointed one hoof at Sunny, and the other at Willow, then tapped them together with a little smirk.

“No,” said Sunny.

“Yes,” said Willow.

The two gave each other surprised looks.

“Yes,” said Sunny, a little bit sarcastically, right as Willow said no.

Ember smirked at the two of them. “It’s complicated?”

Willow huffed. “You could say that.” She flicked Sunny with her tail and he jumped, his face going a soft shade of crimson. How’d she known he’d been staring at Ember’s flank? Right now the mare was lying with the burnt side facing away from them, and it was a pretty good sight. She had a cutie mark of a flint stone and a strip of corrugated steel, a whole cluster of sparks darting out from one side as if she stone was in the process of being struck.

Sunny realized Willow’s eyes were on him, and he turned to meet them with a curious look. Her eyes... something wasn’t right with them. It wasn’t the fact that they were glowing; it was the fact that they shimmered. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.

“Willow?” he asked softly, noting the fact that Ember was watching.

“Nothing,” she said in a choked voice. Turning away, she exhaled a shaky breath. “Excuse me for a moment, please.” With a grunt, she pushed to her hooves, and much to Sunny’s surprise, didn’t kick anything. She nudged open the door to the room they were in and turned left into the narrow hall against the wall of the carriage.

“Damnit.” Sunny closed his eyes and sighed. The situation just wasn’t fair. He couldn’t make a choice. He’d always been indecisive. It would take hours just to decide on what to eat sometimes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to handle the situation, but it was that he didn’t know how to. Willow was, to put it simply, great. But so were his friends, so was Moon.

“What’s the issue?” Ember asked quietly.

Sunny’s ears perked and he opened his eyes, wondering if Willow was listening outside the door. Something told him she wasn’t. “She... really likes me,” he said with an awkward shift of his haunches.

Ember looked genuinely surprised. “Willow... you? I’m not trying to bash you or anything, but you really just don’t seem like her type.” Her eyes confirmed this with a quick look up and down his body. “Like, at all.”

“I know... it’s weird. It’s a long story, but I’ve saved her life before... and she’s saved mine more times than I can count now.”

“Well, do you like her?”

His words stuck in his mouth. He thought for a moment, then slowly opened his mouth. “Yes.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Really?”

Ember’s adopted tone stirred up an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. “Yes, it is,” he said crossly.

“Well then explain it.” She turned towards him and crossed her forehooves, laying her head on them like a foal preparing for a good story.

“It’s complicated,” he repeated dumbly as he attempted to glue together a quick brief in his head, something that wasn’t too revealing. “You see... there’s this other mare who really likes me. Her name’s Moon.”

Ember grinned, a tiny line in her features. “And do you like her.”

Sunny grit his teeth. “Yes. B-but not in that way,” he added hurriedly. “I mean, maybe a little, but I’m not quite sure where I’m standing there. I’m just worried about hurting her, both of them really. I can’t just choose, and if I don’t do anything, then I leave them both hanging... I really don’t see any way to win.”

Ember nodded slowly. “Well, you’re right. There’s no way to win. You’ve just gotta make a choice, Sunny. I know this sounds cheesy and cliche, but you just have to follow your heart. But its just going to eat you up until you make a choice. Somepony’s going to have to get the shaft, it just sucks that you’re the one that has to make the choice.” She rubbed her chin. “That is, unless, you don’t really want anything to happen with any of them, then I guess they’ll just have to deal with it.”

He shook his head then buried it in his forehooves. “I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what to do.”

“Then just give it some more time.” Ember gave him a brittle laugh. “I spent most of my life at the top of the social pyramid. Trust me; I know about this kind of stuff.”

“I’m guessing that was before you got...” He stopped himself.

“Willow, didn’t tell you?” She shook her head. “Yeah, it was before I cooked myself. I don’t know if you can tell, but I used to have the looks.”

Sunny chuckled. “Ember, you’ve still got them.”

She smirked at the swathe of crimson that ran under Sunny’s eyes. “Thanks. But nopony wants a mare who only looks good from one side.”

“I know some would.”

The smirk only seemed to grow. “Are you getting at something?”

“W-what, no!”

“You are such a virgin.” She snickered and closed her eyes before sitting up.

Sunny sat up as well. “We should go check on Willow.”

Ember’s grin shot from ear-to-ear. “You are! Sweet Celestia!” She cackled. “Survive the apocalypse and you’re still a virgin? Sunny, you are one of a kind!”

He felt close to nosebleed status as he made his way to the door and nudged it open.

“So let me get this straight,” Ember continued as they moved out into the hall. “You have two mares swooning over you, and somehow, somehow, you haven’t had a chance to sleep with either of them?”

“Yes,” he said tensely. Willow wasn’t in the hall, so he continued towards the exit.

“Well then who do you want to lose it to?”

He nearly tripped over his own hooves. “What— I don’t... I don’t know!”

“Pro tip,” Ember moved up beside him in the narrow hall. “You’re not going to last long at all your first time, so get some foreplay in. Get her going before you dive or else only one of you gets a happy ending.”

“...Just... enough, okay? Let’s just find Willow.” Folding his ears and lowering his head, he rounded the little bend in the hallway that led to the door at the end. Willow had definitely come this way given the fact that the door was no longer on its hinges.

It took a whole two seconds for his coat to become drenched completely once he’d stepped out into the rain. The station platform was mostly cleared out by now. On the far right, a short line of ponies were being ushered through a set of gates by two REA ponies in battle saddles.

“Right there.” Sunny’s head whipped around as Ember pointed off a little to the left. It was a rather pathetic sight, one that made Sunny’s heart trip and fall. Willow sat alone at a bench. It wouldn't have been all too abnormal without the rain soaking her mane flat to her head and the way she shivered.

“I’ll get us a spot in line,” Ember said, giving him a nudge in her direction. “You talk to her.”

Sunny nodded absently, starting towards Willow. His stupid mouth had done it for him this time. Though it still shocked him that Willow might have actually considered them ‘together’.

Without a word, he sat down beside her, thanking Celestia that it had at least stopped hailing. “Hey...” he said after a moment.

Willow didn’t look up. “Hey... Is it time to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She pushed to her hooves and started trotting towards the gates.

Frantically, Sunny followed, slipping as he tried to keep up. “Willow, I’m sorry!”

She froze, then turned her head to look back at him. “It’s okay, Sunny. I know you are.”

Somehow, that made him feel even worse. “I like you, Willow, I really do!” He said desperately as he moved up beside her. “But I just don’t know what to do. I—”

“Sunny!” she snapped, grabbing him in forehooves he felt could have easily crushed him. “It’s okay, really.” She gave him a wan smile. “I understand. I’m just getting a little ahead of myself. I’ve got to remember that you’re weird, and I’m weird... It’s weird...” She shook her head. “Look Sunny, forget about it. I just overreacted.”

Ember waved them over from near the front of the line. Sunny was rather glad of the excuse not to reply. The issue seemed to have resolved itself, sort of. Ember had gotten them a space right behind a bulky brown stallion carrying a sleeping mare across his back. How anypony could sleep in this weather was beyond Sunny. The REA mare and the greasy pony beside her all added up to create a very awkward group. Luckily, they were all just under the awning that sheltered the platform from rain, but it was still twilight-dark around the station.

The ponies ahead were ushered through no problem. Ember stepped up to the gates first. A stallion wearing a bored expression levitated up a device that looked suspiciously like a price-checker. “Eyes open,” he said drearily, flashing the flickering beam is Ember’s eye a second later. The reader flashed red and let out a little buzz. Suddenly, the stallion stood a little straighter. “Ma’am, please—”

“Scan her again,” a uniformed mare said to the stallion with a roll of her eyes. “That’s the ditzy one, remember?”

Ember visibly relaxed as he scanned her again and the light on the side flashed green in accompany with a sharp beep. Sunny went next, and they waved him by. Sighing, he stopped on the other side for Willow. The one second wait between where the scanner shut off and the light flashed on was like limbo.

Willow stepped forward, tossed her mane out of her eyes, then let the stallion scan her. He hit the trigger, and a second later the scanning beam shut off, but it was at least three seconds before the light came on. Red.

“Scan her again,” the mare said boredly. The stallion did so, and again the light blinked red.

Sunny’s mouth went dry as he watched Willow’s eyes widen. “I’m not infected,” she said firmly.

The stallion rolled his eyes. “That’s what they all say.” Two ponies stepped in from either side, aiming battle saddles. “They’ll lead you around back.”

Sunny had a pretty good idea that ‘around back’ was really just a wall with a lot of bullet holes in it. “She’s not infected!” he blurted, stepping forward beside the stallion with the scanner. A third rifle was pointed at him from a pony in an impromptu watchtower.

“The scanner doesn’t lie,” replied the stallion.

Ember just stood back looking confused as the scene unfolded.

“Bottle of progress did a whole bunch of tests on her. She registers as being infected but she’s not any sort of carrier and she can’t spread it.”

The stallion snorted as if he was hearing bogus. Sunny had to agree that, had they swapped positions, he probably would have acted the same way. He stood stiff, beating himself up in every way possible for forgetting that Willow might not pass the test. Now that he thought about it, it was clear that this stage would have been a huge problem. How had he missed it?

The other line was still moving, but it was slowing down as the mare with the other scanner threw constant glances their way.

“Take her around back,” the stallion repeated.

“I can explain!” Sunny instead, putting himself between the checker and Willow.

“Forget this!” Willow snapped. “I’m going in.”

It happened in no more than a couple seconds, but it might as well have been an eternity. Willow took a step forward right as three different safeties disengaged. Sunny moved. He went for the closest target, which was a mare taking aim at Willow. With a powerful flap of his wings that stung up and down his spine, he carried himself into the air and powered all four hooves into her side. She yelped as he struck her and stumbled to the side. The two shotguns on her back discharged simultaneously and blasted a hole in the awning above as she overbalanced and fell to her side. Without missing a beat, Sunny was on the checker. Landing square on the stallion’s back, he locked his hooves down on the single carbine rifle in the stallion’s saddle and pulled the stallion to the left. The carbine went off and cut a line across the station wall before the cable connecting the trigger to the bit snapped.

Willow just stood there looking dumbstruck. The REA mare who’d been ahead of them in line was racing back now, shouting something.

Sunny yanked on the carbine and it came out of the saddle. Still holding the stallion, as much as it discomforted him, he shoved the barrel against the back of the pony’s head and took the broken trigger wire with his other hoof. The mare whom he’d kicked was now back on her hooves, and the other stallion who had been watching the gate had his twin rifles on Sunny. More were coming, but they were fighting through a scattering crowd.

“Surrender!” The stallion yelled, pointing his guns at Sunny.

Sunny shoved the rifle a little more into the back of the checker’s head, causing the pony to wince. “Don’t move or I-I’ll blow his head off!” Blood coursed through his body, laced with adrenaline and fear. If it came to it, he was afraid he could actually do it. He’d shot ponies before, but never at point blank. Never like this.

The mare moved over to Willow, who wasn’t doing much of anything, and kicked her to the ground. She pinned Willow with her forehooves then levitated a pistol from her belt, putting the barrel to the top of Willow’s head. “Let him go, now!”

“You shoot her, he dies!” The stallion in his grasp had locked up like a vice. Having your own rifle to the back of your head could do that, Sunny supposed. Willow’s eyes were on him. He didn’t dare look, but he could see it in his peripherals. Why wouldn’t she move? She could probably break the mare’s entire body with one hoof if she wanted to. Ember stood a ways away, eyes registering disbelief.

As if things weren’t hectic enough, a gray mare in REA barding charged right up to the edge of the scene and slid to a stop, levitating two, very intimidating pistols. “What’s going on?”

“Cloudstorm, this one’s infected!” The unicorn mare spat, never taking her eyes off Sunny.

“No she isn’t!” he yelled back. “She’s a hybrid!” He didn't exactly expect anypony to know what that meant, considering Willow had made it up herself, but the word sounded fancy enough to pass as something that could be legitimate.

“The scanner failed her?” The gray mare came closer.

“Twice,” the checker said in a choked voice. Sunny gave him a jab with the barrel.

The mare apparently known as Cloudstorm turned towards Sunny. “Nopony likes to die,” she said grimly, then added: “and nopony likes to see ones they care about die. But there’s nothing you can do for her. She’s—”

“No, she’s not!” He had to be careful. His hoof was itching to cinch down on the wire and spray them all. “And I’m not in denial either. It’s a medical thing that I can’t explain, but she isn’t contagious. Look at the bite on her leg. It’s months old.”

Cloudstorm narrowed her eyes, then turned to look at Willow. She glared at the bite, eyes widening in surprise a little as she looked at the scarred flesh. “Are her eyes glowing?”

“Yes,” Willow said flatly. her tone suggested that there wasn’t a gun pressed against the back of her head. “By the way, you got any sunglasses?”

Cloudstorm took a step back. “Scan her. I want to see.”

Scanner pony cleared his throat and motioned to the scanner on his belt. Cloudstorm rolled her eyes and levitated the device. Holding it up to Willow’s left eye, she hit the trigger, and like before, the light went red. She shook her head. “The scanner doesn’t lie. I’m not taking any—”

“Cloudst— I-I mean Sergeant!” A blue mare butted through the crowd, brown mane a complete, sopping mess. “Where do we—” She burst into the ring and looked around, her eyes falling on Sunny and going as round as shot glasses. “Sunny!?”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. For a second, he completely forgot about the situation as he stared into those blue eyes. “Moon?”

She made a move forwards like she was going to hug him, but Cloudstorm stopped her with an outstretched hoof. “You know him?”

Moon swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I do. Her eyes found Willow and once again widened in surprise. “Both of them.”

Cloudstorm blinked, then looked to all three of them in turn. “The white one’s been infected.” A new pony moved in. It was Candy, though she wore a hood to hide her features. He’d kind of been wondering where she’d gotten to. He hadn’t seen her since they’d left the Platinum Hoof. Surprisingly, Cotton was nowhere in sight.

Moon shook her head. “No. She was bit like... three months ago-ish.” Her eyes darted to her shotgun. “She used this one drug on herself. It was blue, that’s all I know. But it made her a sort of mix. She’s got zombie eyes and strength, but she’s not actually one of them.” Moon blinked, then scrunched her face. “Wow, that sounded really stupid.”

“How do you know she’s not infectious?” Cloudstorm pressed, seeming to fight her own battle in her head.

“Because I had sex with her,” Candy said in a tiny voice, though it still silenced everypony.

Willow rolled her eyes. “Way to go. Now they know.”

Cloudstorm did a double-take. She focussed on the mare, then mouthed the words Private Cane with raised brows. Candy shrank back and Sunny gave Cloudstorm a shooty look. The gray mare blinked, then snickered. “This is the most fucking insane day of my life.” With one final chuckle, she straightened up and surveyed the scene once more. She took a deep breath, then shook her head. “Let the mare through.”

“Sergeant!” the mare pinning Willow yelled. “She’s infected.”

Cloudstorm’s eyes hardened. “You are speaking to an REA Sergeant, now that is an order!”

“I refuse that order!”

“What is your rank!?” Cloudstorm demanded in a forceful voice, stomping a hoof.

“Sergeant, Sergeant.”

The air went silent again. Finally, cloudstorm spoke. “Release your hostage, Sergeant.”

“No.”

Somewhere, a pin dropped. Cloudstorm slumped a little bit. “You know what, fuck it.” She turned one of her pistols, flipped it, and before anypony could even move, clogged the mare right between the eyes with the barrel. The mare’s levitation died and the pistol on the back of Willow’s head dropped to the ground with a clatter.

Then everything went up.

Sunny’s hostage tried to pull free, and on instinct, Sunny pulled the wire. The carbine lit up and ripped open the back of the stallion’s head before the recoil pulled it out of Sunny’s awkward grasp and sent it firing wildly until the clip dried out. The only of the three left standing took aim at Cloudstorm and the mare ducked just in time to avoid being ventilated. However, the six REA ponies charging in from behind her took the brunt of it and four went down on top of each other. The other two broke off and took cover.

Cloudstorm took careful aim with her other pistol and fired twice. One hit the stallion square in the chest, the other grazed his shoulder. He went down chewing the bit, guns chattering as they sprayed bullets every which way. Candy yelped and hit the concrete as one ricocheted off the awning and dug into her shoulder. Holding the wound and cursing like a sailor, she pulled out her pistol and fired the entire clip into the stallion’s twitching form.

All the while Willow just sat in the middle of it, staring at her hooves. “The gates are open!” Somepony shouted from the platform, and every REA eye that wasn’t on Cloudstorm or the shooting turned towards the masses flooding for the now unguarded gate.

“Freeze!” one of the stallions in the guard tower yelled. He gave the pony in the lead a whole quarter second to freeze before splattering him across the ground with a mounted machine gun. Somepony in the crowd yelled and fired a revolver at the guard who took a bullet between the eyes then slumped on the gun. Hooves still on the triggers, the weapon fired uselessly into the air, adding it’s staccato to the already flustered environment. More REA ponies surged from somewhere, and instead of using guns, they wore riot armor and wielded batons. Like two waves hitting one another, civilian mixed with soldier, and the melee began.

Sunny staggered over to Willow and pulled her to her hooves. “Come on!” He looked around for means of escape, though there seemed to be ponies everywhere now. Suddenly, Moon’s levitation grabbed him by the mane and yanked him away from the gates, towards where they had been trying to go. He went with it, half-dragging Willow as she moved along beside him. He only caught glances of his friends as they ran. He saw Brick for a second, carrying Snowglobe and Candy. Ember pranced along a little ways off as she tried not to look guilty. Cloudstorm was shouting orders to REA ponies charging into the mess like she hadn’t just started the entire firefight. Moon levitated her shotgun—a new, intimidating, drum-fed assault shotgun—ahead of her as she charged civilians aside.

Really, zombies were easier.

The Baltimare shipping yards had been converted to a safezone. Monstrous warehouses surrounded a small port that led inland. Sunny caught glimpses of steaming ships as they moved further in, no longer running but still moving at a swift trot. Every instinct in him screamed for him to greet Moon and Brick, but amongst the masses, he could barely even hear himself speak. Ponies shouted and shoved towards the pier, where skywagons were loading up civilians before heading south down the coastline.

“Where are they evacuating ponies to?” he asked Cloudstorm.

The mare’s eyes were a little clouded, but when she blinked it was gone. “I have no idea. We don’t have any safezones outside of Baltimare, at least anywhere near. The Navy has already confirmed that they don’t have the rations to take on civilians. My best bet is they’re setting up a camp somewhere.

“Attention!” an intercom blared suddenly, a nasally stallion’s voice washing over the shipyard. “Pegasus ponies are needed for evacuation. If you are a pegasus, you are required to report to the last warehouse southside of the docks and aid with evacuation attempts.”

Cloudstorm led them off to the side and to a small building. The door was locked, but she busted out the window with a hoof and unlocked it from the other side.

It looked like the building had been some sort of filing office for incoming and outgoing freight. It was only two rooms, the smaller being lined with shelves loaded down with boxes of files. Once they were all in, and after what seemed like forever, Sunny was finally able to take in the situation.

There was Willow, Ember, and Cloudstorm, though his eyes were stuck solely on his missing friends. Brick was laying Candy down, who was still cursing about the flesh wound on her shoulder. Snowglobe sat beside him holding her forehead. And there, sitting right in front of him, was Moon, her eyes wide and filled with what looked like disbelief.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she muttered.

Sunny grinned and scratched the back of his neck. “So, I guess you made it to Baltimare... not really much of a sight.” Before he could move she was squeezing the air out of him. “Sunny, I thought you were dead!” she cried, nuzzling into his shoulder. Sunny grit his teeth and tried not to pull away. “And when I finally got to Baltimare the entire place was going down and I thought that was it! But you’re here, and you’re alive.”

Sunny couldn’t help but notice Willow. She sat in the far corner, staring at her hooves.

“It’s great to see you made it!” Sunny replied. As awkward as the hug was, it was still really great to see Moon again. His eyes scanned the group again, and he realized somepony was missing. “Where’s Dusty?”

Moon only looked away. His eyes turned to Brick, who shook his head slowly. Snowglobe whimpered dryly and leaned against Brick.

It was like getting hit with a sack of bricks. “Oh...” Sunny fell back on his haunches. “No way...” His mouth went dry and his vision fogged a bit. “He saved my life. He actually flew me to the hospital... How’d he—”

“He went out a hero,” Moon said sharply. “He saved us all.”

“Why’d you do that?” Sunny heard Ember whisper quietly to Cloudstorm.

“Do what?”

“You know, that. Save them. You might as well have shot yourself there for what the REA’ll do to you for that.”

“...I just felt the impulse. I like these ponies more than I should. Moon came all this way just to find her friends. That’s got to be worth something.”

To Sunny’s surprise, Willow stood and made her way over to stand beside him. “Nice to see you again, Moon,” she said tensely.

Moon blinked, then grinned, though there was confusion below the gesture. “Great to see you too, Willow!”

Before too much tension built up, he snapped it with a question. “So how’d you guys get here?”

Moon sighed. “That’s a long story, Sunny.”

*               *               *

Dove held on for dear life as the skywagon all but turned upside down in the air. Rain battered ruthlessly at the windows and lighting flashed out over the ocean. If she didn’t know any better, she would have said Striker had planned for her to get stuck in the storm on her return trip.

An extra strong gust of wind swirled in from the left and and the entire wagon jerked, throwing Cloudstorm to the floor. “That’s it!” Staggering back to her hooves, she made her way carefully to the partition. She kicked open the door to find the same stallion sitting there on the headset. His head turned as she entered.

“Mashal, these fliers aren’t going to make it back to base. Our best bet is find an area to land along the coastline!”

Dove leaned up against the wall for support, then thought better of it and took hold of a kevlar strap hung from the ceiling. “Are there any safe places in Baltimare?”

“The docks if anything. That’s the evac point. But we have to—”

Everything went completely silent as white light flashed through the windows. She smelt ozone and sharp, warm tingles ran up the tips of her hooves. The stallion gave a quick series of twitches, then dropped to the floor. It took her a second to comprehend what had happened.

Lightning.

She’d been on the weather team for six years. There was no mistaking the tingling in her ears and the burnt, almost clean scent in the air. She’d been saved by standing on the wooden floor panel, unlike the navigator, who’d been leaning on the metal shell, just like she’d been no more than seconds before. Her eyes darted to the plexiglass front, where the four inexperienced fliers were still battling with the storm, saved by the leather harnesses.

Dove felt a lightness in her gut, the kind she normally felt when she flew in for a landing a little too fast. They were falling. Worst still, smoke was filling the cabin from the very wooden panel that had saved her life. Dove moved to the side and lifted the panel, waving away the smoke to reveal the damage. There was nothing left of the spark battery and magical talisman system. Acrid smoke rose from charred and twisted wires that ran to the battery, little licks of flame escaping the power source as the plastic label melted away.

This wasn't just a storm. This was a full-fledged electrical storm.

The skywagon might as well have been a brick. No four-pegasus team could pull the weight of this wagon without magical help.

She slammed the panel back down and staggered to the door, struggling with the latch for a second before realizing it was tied into the electric systems. Ahead, barely visible through the rain, the lead pegasus disconnected himself from the harness and disappeared into the gray. His harness snapped back and tangled with the pony behind where he’d been. Straps wrapped around the puller’s wings and caught his legs. He struggled for a second, then the wind threw him up against the front of the skywagon.

Dove made a grab for the kevlar strap on the roof, but fell short and ended up landing on her face as the skywagon went into a spin. Navigational papers fluttered about, turning the small cabin into a blizzard, the navigator's body thumping around wildly as Dove held on to the only surface she could.

What if she were to die now? Dove started running through thoughts of who would take her place. Nopony knew her plans and her goals, because she hadn’t trusted anypony enough to share them. What about Striker? He would be an ultimate powerhouse if she was out of the ring. What they’d just discussed today—he was going to try to turn ponies into weapons. Maybe he’d called her out and told her his plan, knowing very well her puller team would crash in the storm. Maybe he wanted her out of the way!

It was the last thought that settled in her mind. She couldn’t die, and Celestia damn her if she did.

The wagon jerked as it returned to the correct angle; somehow it had stopped spinning. Dove picked herself up off the floor, then immediately hurled her food rations. Staggering, coughing, she made her way to the windscreen.

They were coming in for a landing...

The street ahead was a dark river walled off on either side by giant buildings. Somehow, they’d made it over Baltimare. Two pullers remained in the wagon harness; the one that was tangled had been disconnected. They were doing their best to bring the wagon down, but it was still going to be a hard landing with the rate they were falling.

The street wasn’t empty, either. Ponies ran back and forth, screaming, shooting, crying. Amongst them were her ponies in armor, shooting just about anything that moved. Upturned wagons signified there had once been a line they had been holding, but there was no such line now.

“Sweet Celestia.” Dove braced herself as the wagon hit the asphalt. Immediately, her legs buckled and she slammed to the wagon floor. Knocked free of her breath, she writhed and squirmed, clutching her chest with a forehoof as she tried to draw breath. The wagon screeched and scraped down the road, trailing sparks despite the wetness of the asphalt. The front end ploughed through the remnants of the wagon barrier, smashing out the windscreen in the process, before veering off to the side. The bottom of the wagon caught a bump in the road and in one swift motion, slammed over on its side. Dove landed on the battered navigator in a stroke of luck.

She was on her hooves before the wagon had even come to a complete stop. Panting, she staggered out through the broken windscreen, the rain soaking her down to the core in less than a second. Darting to the pullers, she tried to help the lead one out of his harness. The one behind him hadn't been so lucky. Dove refused to look at it, but from what her peripherals picked up she was pretty sure he’d been run over by the wagon.

“T-thanks, M-m-m-marshal,” the stallion quivered, staggering to his hooves.

“Get in the air!” Dove commanded. She walked around in a little circle, trying to get a hold on her bearings. The power had been cut to this portion of the city, leaving everything a disorienting mess. Back down the street where they’d landed, a series of gigantic spotlights cast their beams up into the rain. Somepony had been using their heads when they thought of marking the safezone.

Still a bit dazed from the landing, Dove took to the air, hovering a little off the ground. She knew the right choice was to make a beeline for the safezone four blocks back, but she just couldn’t bring herself to go. Below her, ponies swarmed every which way, zombies amongst them, even a few changelings.

Her eyes widened and settled on one of the black, insect-like creatures. “Not you guys too!” It outright ignored her and went back to tearing apart a hopefully-dead stallion.

She began to fly backwards, slowly at first, but rapidly gaining speed. There was nothing she could do this far forward. The situation was too far gone.

“Form a line!” Dove’s eyes darted to bifocaled stallion loaded down with an REA radio. He looked like he belonged behind a desk, not standing amidst a flooded street trying to direct troops. “Come on!” he beckoned frantically to a group of soldiers. “We have to help as many civilians as we can!”

“Forget it!” one yelled back. “This sector’s a lost cause. Fall back and save yourself.”

Despite the icy rain, Dawn’s blood began to boil. She grit her teeth and folded her wings, dropping down to street level. Her timing was perfect to intercept the group of four running for the spotlights.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Her voice was cold and scornful, resembling a stern mother who had just found their foal drawing on the wall.

“Saving my ass, now get out of my way!” The bulky red mare tried to push past, but Dove positioned herself in front of the mare and delivered a staggering headbutt.

“How about you focus on why you became a soldier of my army!”

“Look, I don’t give a rat’s ass about—” A flash of lighting brought Dove’s features into proportion, and immediately the mare’s expression went slack. “Er, M-marshal. What are you doing here!?”

Dove shoved the mare away. “Shut your mouth and help rally troops to form a retreat that’s actually going to make it to the docks!” She paused for a second. “And when in the name of Celestia did changelings come into play!?”

“A few hours ago.” The red mare was all business, and her companions seemed to be sticking by. “Nopony’s sure, but they came up from the sewers and subways and brought the rest of the infected with them. It’s why we lost the city.”

Dove snarled and turned away. Her presence was being recognized now, even by the civilians. There was a whole lot less screaming, and even a tiny sense of order as her forces gathered into broken ranks. “Form a line!” The street was a perfect choke point. There weren’t any infected upon them yet, but the trainwreck of zombies and ponies was barreling in their direction wasn’t far off. Those fleeing the infected were running as fast as their legs could take them, but the zombies were certainly faster. It was like watching the surf as one large wave washed over the smaller wave ahead of it. There was a clear line where survivors would be overrun and taken to the ground, one after the next.

“Ready!” Dove yelled. There were at least twenty ponies in the line now—a greater number than she had expected. Ponies stampeded past the line of soldiers and to safety. Dove stood firm, taking hit after hit as ponies shouldered past her. An orange stallion dropped to the ground beside her and spread the legs on a machine gun, lining up.

One zombie appeared in the crowd, but was blasted a second later. Ponies screamed and scattered, dodging the body like the plague. It wasn’t another second before another appeared amongst the masses, snapping at a mare’s neck. Down it went. Two more. Three. Four.

There were still civilians—plenty of them. But there was no way anypony could sort them out by this point.

Dove gave the order.

Twenty machine guns lit up the gloom.


*              *              *


Storytime was something else. Neither side could believe the other side’s story. Willow had simply listened while Sunny and Candy told of the whole ordeal. Cloudstorm listened in the entire time, her jaw steadily lowering at the exchange. At the mention of the passage through Canterlot, she looked like she was ready to fall over. Willow had been impressed herself.

Thankfully, Sunny had left out Willow’s experience in Bottle of Progress.

Then the quiet sniffling had come, primarily from Moon. Then the hugging... then awkward cuddling between Moon and Sunny. Willow couldn’t bring herself to watch. They smiled, they laughed, even Brick hosted a smile.

She hadn’t said much to Brick. He’d sat next to her, supporting her weight on his firm shoulder. The idea that she had hardly even thought about him in their time apart crossed her mind guiltily more than once.

She’d removed herself from the building and hardly an eye had turned. Willow told herself it was to find the ponies Moon had said were with them, but really she just needed to be away. Thinking she could be with Sunny was a joke. All along, she knew she was simply biding her time until the two reunited, but some, deep down and guilty part of her had wished that the blue mare wouldn’t return.

It was a dirty, malicious thought, and as much as Willow tried to beat it out of her mind, it just wouldn’t leave. What’s wrong with you? Moon is your friend, and here you are wishing her dead, you sick, disgusting excuse for a mare!

The rain soaked her coat and chilled her to the bones, glued her red mane to her neck and her tail primarily to the back of one leg. Anypony that was standing in her way either moved when they saw her coming or got butted aside. Something about the mare’s stride seemed to radiate her internal strife and churning anger. She made sure to keep her eyes down. Ponies didn’t need to see a mare with glowing eyes right now—it would cause a panic.

It was quite surprising how full the docks could really get. The entire yard was huge, but in contrast to the population of Baltimare, it might have well have been a pinhead. Wagons were already running evacuations, shipping ponies off to temporary bases along the coast. The lines were massive, and more ponies were entering the temporary stronghold than could she shipped out. It was fairly obvious that things would be getting nasty soon.

Commotion from a distant gate brought her around. Willow shook the destructive thoughts from her mind as she turned towards the sound. The sound was one she’d heard too many times not to know: chaos, pain and fear and panic all mashed together into a big ball of chaos.

So why were her hooves carrying her towards the mess?

As she approached, ponies flooded through the gate like water. The REA were doing little to hold them back as the single mare with the scanner tried to check every one of them. Unarmed and with an intolerant glint in her eye, Willow made her way up to struggle. One guard on the scaffolding above turned his rifle on her, but she gave him a dismissive glance and, after a brief glare, he turned back to watching the scuffle, no doubt waiting to blow out the brains of any unruly pony.

“What’re they so afraid of?” The voice rang out beside Willow, and she jumped. The words seemed more for the purpose of mockery than to serve as an actual question. Turning, her eyes fell upon a tall, dark blue stallion, his long, orange mane tied to his neck with a few strands of nylon rope. He wore a raincoat and hat. His glasses weren’t exactly bottles, but they were thick enough to prove the pony had less than stellar eyesight.

Willow shook her head and proceeded with the stallion to the fence to the right of the gate. A green mare some ways down the fence line gave a warning wave in their direction, pointing first towards the fence, then to the electrical wires she was soldering to the posts.

“Not sure. It might just be the crowd mentality.” She shook her head and peered out amongst the buildings, hoping for the stallion’s own sake that he wouldn’t say anything stupid. It was hard to see through the rain, but she could make out the muzzle flash. It was close.

“The city’s finally falling,” the stallion beside her stated. “It’s not going to be long before they reach this point.” His voice was scratchy, and high, the kind of voice she associated with a geeky mathematician.

“How do you know?” Watching the little bursts of light in the distance was as hypnotizing as watching light rain fall from the sky. They also seemed to be moving closer.

“I’m a situational analyst.” He scoffed, then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I was. Twenty-twenty foresight. Told my friend the day of his wedding he was going to catch his wife with another stallion, and guess what.” A brittle chuckle escaped his mouth as he looked on, then tossed a sideways glance to Willow. “There’s only so much they can do to protect this area. You think electric fences and a few guns are going to stop an entire city of zombies?”

Willow shook her head.

“My point is made.” Suddenly, the pony lowered his head and brought it closer. Willow readied to clobber him. “I want your help.”

“Why?” Her question was brief and cold.

“Because I don’t want to die,” he returned with an irritable hitch. “And I’m guessing you don’t want to either.”

She was all ears. If he knew something, then she wanted to know it. Something about the stallion pulled at her coat, but he had a look in his eye that told her he knew something; or at least he thought he did. “Clarify a bit. I’m not going to agree to help you unless I know what I’m helping you with.”

A thin smile crossed his face. “I knew you’d say that.” His horn flared for a second, then he was all business. “How many ponies do you think are here?” he asked suddenly.

“I don’t know... too many to count.”

“Approximately fifteen thousand, and counting.” His horn flashed again, lighting his blue, almost silver eyes. “And how many do you think have been evacuated so far?”

Willow growled. “I don’t know.”

He pressed on. “A thousand in the past two hours.” He looked nervous now, both ears folding flat to his head. “This stronghold is not going to last an entire day. I’ll give it a couple more hours at best, but the REA can’t hold this position. Once the flying biters come the REA’s attention is going to be divided between ground and air, then it’s all going downhill. Let’s be generous and say we last another four hours here. That’s two thousand ponies evacuated. That still leaves thirteen thousand here. What do you think the chances are of you and all your friends, getting on a skywagon, and the same one at that?”

The anger started in her belly and boiled right up her throat. “How do you know about my friends?” She shoved her muzzle towards his, one powerful hoof clasping in the back of his rainjacket and lifting his forelegs off the ground.

“I’ve been watching you since you entered the gate,” he said desperately, struggling as his own jacket choked him. “You had guns, experience, and most importantly, an REA officer who’s fond of you.”

Grudgingly, Willow released him. “And?”

“And I needed your help,” he gruffed. “Soon... very soon now, REA Marshal Dove is going to have to give the order to pull her troops from defending this place. It’s going to be fast, and it’s going to leave the civilians here in more trouble than you could know. You see, from her perspective, the REA must live to fight another day. If they all die there, there’s nothing more she can do for Equestria. Pulling out is a sacrifice she must make. When that happens, everypony left here will die. We need to be out of here before that happens.”

As much as it hurt her to admit it, he was probably right. There was no way everypony was going to be getting out of here. Her confliction must have showed in her eyes, because the stallion gave her a stern look.

“Nopony’s ever survived in this world by being the hero! Either we live and they die, or we all die together. I don’t know about you, but I want to live. And don’t you go around telling ponies about this; if you do that it’ll only accelerate the degradation of what little order is left.”

She gave him the dirtiest of dirty looks, but nodded. “I really hate it, but you’re right.” For a moment she wondered if he were filling her head with nonsense, but so far, every word from his mouth was backed by the current situation. “...When do we leave?”

“The sooner the better. We need to commandeer a skywagon. Your REA friend can help with that. She’s high enough rank that she should be able to snatch you one with some fancy words. Where we go from there is up to you. But...”

Willow glared. “But?”

“But you have to take me with you, as in, keep me around once you’ve landed. You have guns, and you’re not the REA. I’m not a fighter, and I never will be. Once I leave the city’s protection I’m as good as dead. As much as I hate to say it, I need ponies to protect me.”

And he did. Willow had always considered herself a good eye reader, and behind those thick glasses of his, he was scared and desperate, looking for a way out.

An announcement blasted from the series of loudspeakers erected across the stronghold. “All available forces are requested at the east gate immediately. Compromise is a threat!”

“Come on,” Willow nodded off towards where she’d left her companions. “They’re going to want to hear this.”

It was a fast walk back to the storage building where she had left her friends. There were a lot more ponies there now, though the room they’d reserved as a group was still left only to them.

Willow barged through the door without an ounce of warning. Immediately, all conversation ceased as Willow stopped halfway through the doorway, the bespectacled stallion beside her.

They’d probably been talking about her... She shook the thought away before it could tick her off, then spotted five more ponies who hadn’t been there before. There was Sage and Jade, still connected at the hip it seemed, Range sat in the corner nursing his tweaked leg while Altic acted disconcerned about it, and Yew stood beside him, having jumped to her hooves at Willow’s entry. There was one more: a stallion with a reddish brown coat she remembered by the name of Copper. He’d been one of the REA pegasi from Appleoosa.

It was a full crowd.

“We found the others,” Moon stated, a hint of curiosity in her voice as she eyed Willow. “Where’d you go?”

“We’ve got to get going.” Willow strode to the center of the room and beckoned the stallion to follow her.

Sunny blinked at her. With a bit of effort, he pulled away from Moon and rolled to his hooves. “What’re you talking about?”

Willow nodded towards the blue stallion. “Tell them.”

Blinking at the prospect of standing before a bunch of ponies, blue stallion trotted forward to the center of the room. “Hello strangers,” he said in a high voice that lacked much of the bravado he had shown earlier with Willow. “I’m Foresight.”

Willow rolled her eyes at him. “There is no way that’s your actual name.”

He glared right back. “No, it’s not, but I like it and my real name sucks.” Clearing his throat he sat down and adjusted his glasses.

It was interesting watching everypony’s faces as Foresight told them the same thing he’d told Willow.

“So,” he concluded, adjusting his glasses for the fortieth time. “We need to leave before that happens. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I want to make it out of here.”

“Well shit,” Loco muttered, giving Cloudstorm a sideways look. “Think that’s true?”

The REA mare nodded slowly. “Absolutely. It’s indirectly written in every page of the rulebook... I’d do the same thing if I were in Dove’s position. I wouldn’t blame her for a second. What good is it if the entirety of the REA is wiped out trying to save an extra thousand civilians?”

“I’m getting tired of all this ‘civilian’ talk,” Moon growled. “We are civilians. We’re talking about them as if they’re... others.”

“Moon,” Sunny interjected sheepishly. “I think civilian is a broad term for ‘ponies who can’t protect themselves’. To be fair, I don’t think we fall under that category.”

“Civilians are dead weight,” Cloudstorm stated. “Yes, I know they’re ponies just like us... but think about it. There’s no room in this world for ponies who don’t know how to protect themselves. It was a mistake trying to protect them in the first place. A city where only ten percent can fight was never meant to be.”

She received more than one disgusted stare. “Says the mare who just shot another REA officer!” Cotton shot back. Candy gave the wounded mare an angry glare.

“Do you think I feel good about that!?” Cloudstorm snapped, bearing down on the mare. “No matter what, somepony was going to die there. I had to make a choice!”

“Excuse me,” Foresight tried to interject, his voice severely lacking any sort of power. “But we need to go... now.”

“Now!” Willow enforced, stomping her hoof and accidentally putting it right through the floor.

The clamour stopped as Willow stumbled and tried to pull her hoof out of the floor.

“Anyways, leaving,” Foresight stated dejectedly.

“Good luck getting a skywagon,” Sunny added grudgingly. “See the line by any chance? It’s like a water park on saturday afternoon.”

Foresight chuckled and turned towards Cloudstorm. “That’s where you come in.”

The REA mare froze. “What?”

“I need you to commandeer us a skywagon.” His eyes flicked out across the group. “Actually, make that two.”

“And how exactly do you expect me to do that?”

“You’re a Sergeant, aren’t you?”

“Not after today.”

Foresight waved a hoof at her. “But you’ve still got the name. All you need to do is get us to the front. Say we’re ponies of utmost importance.”

“No, I’m not doing it.” Cloudstorm sat back and crossed her forehooves. “Why do you ponies think I’m on your side? I’m with the REA? Why would I ditch them just to befriend a bunch of gun-toting survivors?”

Sixteen pairs of eyes fell on her, some skeptical, but most expectant and demanding. Moon was actually grinning a little.

“No,” Cloudstorm repeated. “No way.”


*              *              *


“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Cloudstorm had taken some convincing, and for a while after that she’d stomped in a circle and cursed everything but Celestia herself. Sunny strode beside her now, trying to walk as firmly and as official-looking as possible. His wings, while utterly useless, served as an almost carefree pass anywhere in the REA; everypony who could fly was commissioned for skywagon crews and given some sort of a rank. Copper took up the sergeant’s left.

With as much authority as her rank allowed, Cloudstorm stalked up to the row of soldiers guarding the REA access to the primary evacuation platform. “I’ve got VIPs here,” she stated in a loud voice. “Specials for the marshal herself, requested immediately.”

The dozen or so guards exclaimed looks, eyes scanning over Cloudstorm and the group of sixteen civilians with her. A moment later, all eyes fell on one pony with a little better dress code than the rest of them. She was a short mare, her crimson mane tied back in a bun as she positively glared at anything and everything.

“What if they don’t let us through?” Sunny muttered under his breath.

Willow’s voice came from behind him. “Out of everypony I’ve ever seen in the REA, this looks like the only one that is resistant to both bribes and blowjobs.”

Cloudstorm folded her ears and snickered, then recovered a second later. “We need to get to the platform,” she stated formally, coming to a stop just before the much shorter mare, who—much to her discontent, so it seemed—was forced to look up at Cloudstorm.

“And do you have clearance?” the mare demanded, striking down any chances of simplicity.

“Yeah!” Cloudstorm snapped back immediately, looming over the mare. “The Marshal wants them aboard and out of here, pronto! Haven't you been listening to the radio? These are VIPs!”

“They’re a bunch of civilians. What would the marshal want with them?” Suddenly, her eyes fell on Sunny, narrowing for a second before widening in shock. “I-is that him?”

Cloudstorm blinked and glanced to Sunny. “Uh... Yeah, yeah, of course it’s him. Who else do you think it is?”

Sunny tried not to act too surprised as the mare dutifully stood aside and ushered them through. “Am I who?” he asked Cloudstorm once they were out of earshot.

“No idea, but it got us through.”

Sunny would have continued to balk over the occurrence had the full size of the operation not been revealed just then.

They’d entered a through a set of doors onto a covered platform that had once been used for loading and unloading barges. The massive, concrete platform was completely crowded with ponies being directed into neat lines by uniformed officers.  Every moment or so, a skywagon would swoop in from over the water and land upon the platform. It was hardly a moment before ponies flooded aboard and it was off again. There were ships too, though all had already left the docks and could be seen sailing away to the north as they battled the seas.

“How do you suppose we gain access to two skywagons?” the nerdy blue stallion muttered, pushing up beside Cloudstorm. “With a group of this size, we’re going to need two, unless you want to leave five ponies behind and still risk overloading the wagon.”

He received a glare from the entire group for his statement, though held strong. “He’s right,” Willow added quickly. “We need two.” All eyes turned to Cloudstorm.

The sergeant glowered and grit her teeth. “Oh what the hay—I’ve already signed my resignation papers and reserved a spot in line for the death penalty because you lot had to go and get me feeling sentimental.” She flicked her tail and waved a hoof backwards. “You wait here. I’ll get us two. Sunny and the red one, come with me.”

She started off at a brisk pace without waiting for an answer, leaving Sunny and Copper nothing else to do but follow.

Cloudstorm made a beeline right for the closest skywagon which was just in the process of loading. Again, she put on her authoritative voice. “For transport of VIPs at the marshal’s request I’m going to have to commandeer the service of this skywagon and crew.”

Every head turned at the words. Those boarding the wagon were immediately stopped and those already seated were hauled off indignantly. Not a single question was asked as Cloudstorm pointed to the small group of ponies at the edge of the dock. If anything, the wagon pullers looked relieved. Already they were showing early signs of exhaustion from the overwork.

“We’re not just stealing wagons,” Copper whispered in Sunny’s ear, “we’re going to be stealing eight pegasi as well. What the hay are we supposed to do once we get in the air? They’re going to know something’s up.”

Sunny shook his head. This was too much too fast. He was tired of running and planning and plotting and lying. There’d been too much of it in the past few days. It was so bad he’d lost count.

Cloudstorm acquired the second wagon as easy to the first, and it wasn’t more than five minutes later she returned to the group with two skywagons in tow looking guiltily smug.

“That went way easier than I expected it to,” Foresight commented with an impressed waggle of one eyebrow. “Now we simply board the wagons and be to the air!”

They were drawing the eyes of the crowd. Sunny glanced around skittishly as it seemed every eye was on him and the others. “Why do they get to go first!?” somepony yelled amongst the crowd, causing a whole wave of jeers and prying questions.

The REA ponies were smart not to reply ‘because they’re important’. The crowd was ignored as a whole, but the lines were getting messier and louder by the moment.

“I say we leave now,” Sunny chirped, trotting for the left wagon.

“Hold it, hold it.” Cloudstorm rubbed her head, then took a count of heads. “That’s sixteen plus myself. These wagons comfortably seat ten and there needs to be somepony with experience to work with the flight crew.

Candy stepped forward immediately. “I’ll take one if you take the other.”

“Good deal.” Cloudstorm waved towards the wagons. “Eight ponies on one and nine on another. I’ll be on the left—Cane take’s the other wagon.”

The entire operation went more smoothly than Sunny would have thought possible. He, Willow, Brick, Moon, Ember, Cloudstorm, Snowglobe, and Foresight took the one on the left, while Candy, Cotton, Loco, Range, Jade, Sage, Yew, Altic and Copper all ended up on the right.

“I can’t believe it was that easy. Three’s no way our luck’s this good,” Sunny said with a worried frown.

“It’s crazy how many ponies we’ve met since this thing started,” Willow said to Sunny, driving her elbow into his side.

He winced and gave her a dry look, then nodded. “We’ve been a long ways.”

“You guys had it easy leaving Appleoosa,” Moon said, plopping down on the other side of Sunny.

Willow grit her teeth. “And you didn’t have to deal with Bottle of Progress.”

Moon just rolled her eyes. “It couldn't have been that bad. I mean, at least it was zombie-free.”

“At least,” Willow said through her teeth.

Sunny gave Moon a frantic look and shook his head. She cocked a brow at him, but shrugged, and much to his disdain, leaned against him casually. Biting his lip, Sunny turned back towards Willow. “Can you believe we got off this easy for once?”

Cloudstorm waved a gesture to Candy then said something indistinct into an intercom, and a moment later the wagon jolted forward.

Sunny watched the agonized faces of the ponies in line for evacuation, guilt settling in his belly like a lead weight.

“It was either them or us,” Foresight said somberly, catching the look in Sunny’s eye. “I’m not proud of it either.”

Sunny nodded. “I guess.” As the skywagon took to the turbulent air and turned to head off down the coast, keeping just above sea level, his mind wandered back to the REA’s willingness to relinquish a skywagon after seeing him. ‘Is that him?’ they’d asked. Exactly who had they thought he was, and why was it important?