Spike yawned as he raised himself from the hardwood floor. He rubbed his eyes and smacked his lips. His sight adjusted to the dark, revealing the same dark night that he found himself in about an hour ago. Spike groaned and got up to his feet.
The sound of whooshing wind pounded on the glass outside of the cabin. The dead trees swayed back and forth as the wind violently travelled across the land. The cabin stood atop a lonely hill, a forest leading down the hill. The moon was blocked by the overlay of clouds shrouding the ground, creating a darker night than usual.
Spike observed the landscape through the open window and sighed to himself quietly. No other emotion took him by the neck than the feeling of guilt. Spike knew what he had done was not right, but he reacted in the moment. There wasn't anything that he could do. He didn't like the decision that he made. Then again, he wasn't ready to die at that moment.
"You feeling alright, kid?"
Spike jumped in a mad moment of surprise and immediately twirled his body around. He wiped his brow and sighed in relief as it was none other than Windmill. His eyes were barely open as he stretched his blue body and his wings. He let out a loud yawn and scratched his messy black hair. He raised his upper body and rubbed his eyes. Spike sat down and relaxed.
"Yeah, I'm okay," Spike said. Windmill slowly got up on his four legs and travelled to Spike's side. He sat down beside Spike and sighed. Spike looked down at the floor, his eyes suggesting the sign of guilt. Windmill stared at Spike and put a hoof on Spike's shoulder.
"It'll be alright, Spike. You just gotta let loose," Windmill said.
"I don't know, Windmill,” Spike said worriedly. “I mean, what are we going to do? We're in a cabin on a hill and we can't go anywhere because there's a zombie infested forest blocking our way! How are we supposed to get food? Or water? Or-"
A hoof blocked his mouth. Spike looked up at the pegasus, who was looking sternly down at the baby dragon. Windmill pulled his hoof away and looked off in the distance. Spike stared down at the ground again. The sound of droplets started to pound down on the roof of the cabin. A flash of lightning lighted up the dark cabin for a moment, as a thunderous clap shook the cabin.
"You can't keep on looking at the dark side of things, Spike," Windmill said as he continued to stare off into space. "Even if it does look dark, you got to find the light at the end of the tunnel."
"Do you get what I mean?" Windmill asked, looking down at the baby dragon. Spike nodded his head. Windmill looked back at nothing. Spike thought about what Windmill had said. To him, it seemed like good advice. But how was it supposed to help him? Spike thought for a moment, then threw the thought away. Windmill closed his eyes, then reopened them again.
"You got any family?" Windmill asked.
"Yeah. Well, sort of. I lived with Twilight Sparkle. You probably heard of her. She found me in an egg and took me in. I'm her personal assistant," Spike explained. Windmill nodded.
"So how did you two get separated?" Windmill asked. Spike was about to say something, before stopping himself. He didn't say a word and collected his thoughts for a moment before replying.
"I... I ran away. Things were just getting... way too intense. I didn't know what to do. She wouldn't come with me when the whole thing started. I just reacted and ran away," Spike explained. Windmill listened attentively to what Spike was saying, nodding as he talked. "It was so stupid of me and I can't believe I did it..."
Spike sniffed.
His eyes became puffy. He wiped his eyes as tears started to fall from his cheeks. He buried his face into his knees and whimpered softly. Windmill stared at him and sighed.
"Don't feel bad about what you've done. It wasn't your fault," Windmill said.
"It was so my fault!” Spike hissed. “I was the one who deserted her! I was the one who left her with those zombies! I...I..."
Spike stopped as salty tears fell down his face. He cried softly in the cabin as the storm gained more traction. Windmill looked out the window. His eyes became more alert as he stood up. Spike looked up at Windmill, wiping away his tears.
"What is it?"
"Get the gun," Windmill said hurriedly.
Spike was confused, but knew not to question what he said. More often than not, Windmill was right about a lot of things ever since he met him. If it wasn’t for him, Spike would probably would have been dinner for the undead creatures. He sort of reminded Spike of a Wonderbolt that Rainbow Dash always obsessed over.
In the corner of a room was a typical hunting rifle. These were banned from Equestria, but they found their way into circulation one way or another. With haste, Spike rushed to the gun and picked it up. It was heavy, but Spike has carried bigger things in the past, so it wasn’t too much of a problem for him.
Figures this isn’t the heaviest thing I carried, he thought to himself.
Quickly, he ran to Windmill and gave it him. He took the weapon from the dragon’s hands and slightly opened the window. Loud cold air found its way inside the small cabin as the storm raged on.
The hellish screams also made their way into the cabin.
“Damn,” Windmill muttered to himself as he levelled the hunting rifle to the window. He squinted his eyes through the scope and pulled the trigger.
A burst of yellow light filled the cabin as a shockwave coursed through Spike’s body, causing him to drop to the ground. Spike personally never felt the sheer force of a gunshot, let alone the ear splitting sound of it. Magical use was loud and rough, but the power of a gun was completely different. It was louder, rougher and it was ten times more deadly.
“Spike! Get the door! Barricade with anything you got!” Windmill ordered.
Spike looked around for anything that he could possibly use as something for a barricade. His options were limited, however. All that was available to him was a small green duffle bag with next to nothing inside. Spike hastily looked around the bare cabin for anything, but nothing came into view for him.
Another yellow flame burst, causing Spike to jump. The shrill shrieks were becoming closer and closer as the whistling wind pattered against the wooden cabin. Soon, there would be zombies piling up at the door, and they would eventually come in because of the lack of barricade.
Then Spike had an idea.
“Spike! What’s going on?!” Windmill cried out as he shot another bullet. “I don’t have enough ammo, and those things are getting closer!”
“Windmill, I have an idea! We need to open the door!” Spike said.
Windmill looked at the small dragon with great concern. “Excuse me? You do realize that will mean death, right?”
“I know what I’m doing! Just trust me!”
Windmill looked out the window and sighed to himself. He pulled the gun away from the window and trotted to the door. At that moment, the sounds of the undead were at the doorway and scratching away. Some were at the window, their yellow glowing eyes filling the room up with its hellish light.
“Spike, you know what you’re doing?” Windmill asked, gripping the rusty doorknob hard.
“You just need to give me a little time to charge up!”
“What does that mean?!”
“You’ll see!”
Spike stepped a couple steps back and closed his eyes. He focused his energy into his stomach. A flaming sensation washed over him, and he could feel a burning feeling around his gut. But it wasn’t enough. Spike groaned a little, some smoke exiting his nostrils.
The creatures banged on the door, a little wear and tear forming on the wooden door. Windmill struggled to keep the door closed as the creatures were forming a small group outside the cabin. The glowing beasts at the window smashed the glass and poked their hungry foaming mouths inside the cabin.
“Spike!”
Spike did not waste another second.
“Open the door, now!”
The door swung open and the creatures started to shamble into the cabin. Spike opened his fiery red eyes and opened his mouth.
Suddenly, the temperature in the cabin grew to a boiling point, igniting the wood with fire, along with the creatures that Spike aimed at. The zombies shrieked in merciless pain as the green flames shooting from Spike’s mouth ate away at their undead skin, picking it away clean.
As the last of the flames came out, Spike dropped to his knees feeling weak. He gasped for air, the smoke that filled his lungs eating away at precious oxygen. He felt his heavy eyes drop, the rest of the cabin starting to turn darker, until Spike fell into a conscious abyss.
Spike slowly opened his eyes, as the pounding rain pattered on to his forehead. He could feel himself being carried on the back of something, but his mind was clouded with nothing that he couldn’t think straight. He focused his sight on a silhouette, which looked distinctively familiar.
“Windmill?”
“Don’t try to talk. Rest easy.”
Spike didn’t complain with that statement, as he fell back into the dark abyss
.
Spike woke up again. Instead of the cold and harsh rain of before, he felt dry and clean. The rain of before felt like it was farther away from him and the thunder and lightning was a distant memory.
Spike got up, but a pain coursed through his spine, causing him to fall back on something. He was still trying to make out where he was. It seemed like he was in something like a hole filled with wood.
A tree, maybe?
“Hey, you alright?”
Spike looked up slowly, and saw that it was indeed Windmill at the other side of the hole. It was actually quite a spacious room. It was cluttered with broken bark and green moss with a trace of water poking down at the ground of the room.
Spike looked to his left to see that there was a hole that led to a view of tall trees. Not only were there trees, they were at the top of the trees. It seemed like they were stories high.
How did Windmill manage to do this?
“You know, kid, if it wasn’t for you, we might have actually been in a bit of trouble,” Windmill mentioned.
“You mean you didn’t trust me?” Spike asked.
“To be honest, I didn’t, and I feel bad about that.”
Spike rested his head on the bark and rested his head, which had a very bad headache.
Spike did have time for one question, however.
“How did you get us up here with all that rain? Only a Wonderbolt could have done what you did!”
Windmill winced and then looked down at the ground. He looked down for a few moments before he silently spoke up.
“You know, I haven’t been completely honest with you, Spike,” he started to say. Spike leaned up to hear him better, interested in what he was about to say. “My name isn’t Windmill. That was just an alias. I use it so I don’t have to get swarmed by fans. I figured if I kept using the alias, I wouldn’t have people swarming around me again, and putting them in danger.”
Spike perked his eyebrows up. Suddenly, his eyes widened.
“Wait, you’re-“
“My name is Soarin, one of the members of the Wonderbolts team.”
Spike sat there, completely shocked as to what he was hearing. He was just saved by a Wonderbolt, and he himself saved a Wonderbolt in return. Spike sputtered some things, before his headache coursed back into his skull.
“You should probably sleep now. You did a lot to keep us save, and now you just need some rest.”
Spike nodded and rested his head on to the bark of tree. Soarin looked out at the ravaged forest. The things couldn’t climb up these trees, so they were save for now. He rested his own head on to the walls of the tree and thought one final thought before he went to sleep.
I’ll find you, old friend. No matter what it takes.