Chapter 2
Let me tell you right off the bat that sleeping on cold wooden floors is not recommended. I woke up as stiff as the boards I lay upon and most of my cell mates weren’t doing so well either. Spinner looked like she hadn’t slept at all (which she probably hadn’t), and Celestia only knows how hideous I was looking after my endeavours. I peered through the bars into the adjoining corridor and scanned the wall for a time piece. A large clock tick tocked softly, its dual arms displaying the time at near enough six in the morning. That is, of course, if it was actually working properly.
I noticed also that the guard had changed. Now there was a dark green pegasus stallion strumming softly on a guitar and humming under his breath. His AK47 lay propped against the wall a few feet in front of him, the keys dangling on a nail above his head. I hissed softly, then slightly louder to try and attract his attention. He played a sour chord and stopped to look over his shoulder. He had bright blue eyes and he gave me a look of contempt. He placed his guitar next to his rifle and walked over to the door, staring back at me from the other side of the bars. He blew a lock of hair out of his face and growled, “What?”
“I have to use the toilet.” This had probably been tried numerous times before, but I was going to try anyway just in case. Who knows, maybe it would actually work. Oh, and I actually did need to go. His gaze remained impassive.
“Thanks for letting me know. I honestly don’t care.”
“Well what am I supposed to do then?”
“I dunno. Use your imagination. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
I suppose I couldn’t complain. I really should’ve seen that one coming, but I still wasn’t readily prepared to relieve myself in front of three other ponies, never mind the fact that one of them was male. I could wait. Eventually I’d think of something; I’m a very resourceful mare. I caught Spinner smirking out of the corner of my eye and I shot her a cold look, “What’s so funny?”
“Did you honestly think I hadn’t tried that? Really, if that’s the best you can do I’d just give up.” Oh I could do so much better, and I’m going to prove it to you. I’m going to be the first pony in recorded history to escape the Scavengers’ slave band. I just needed time and she’d soon see. Even if I had to tunnel my way out with a plastic spoon! Which reminded me of food. What did the Scavengers actually feed their slaves? I suppose I’d find out when breakfast was brought round but now was the time for plotting. Plotting and not thinking about the increasingly urgent need to pass water.
A few hours came to pass (two to be exact) and there was the noise of a door opening and a greeting from the guard. I covered up my work and resumed my position at the bar doors. I’d placed some old cloth I’d found over the drawings I’d been making on the floor with some spare chalk. They weren’t anything special, just something to pass the time really, but I knew the Scavengers would take the first opportunity to punish me for drawing them. A quick peek through the bars was all I needed to assess the situation. A new stallion had come in, this time a pitch black earth pony with dazzling red eyes, wearing a set of saddle bags and with a bolt action rifle slung over his back. The guard made various mocking remarks, to which the unfortunate stallion made no reply, and then parted with, “They’re all yours. Have fun.”
The stallion unslung his rifle and hung it from the key nail before undoing his saddle bags. He pulled out various items; amongst them was an assortment of fruits and pulses, a weapon cleaning kit and a bottle of what appeared to be plain water. Picking up the key and an assortment of food stuffs, he unlocked the door and threw in what looked like our breakfast. There was a mad rush to grab all of the best stuff, and I saw Spinner give the best of what she managed to swipe from Mr Uptight to Mystery. By the time they were done all that was left was an apple and a few grass cuttings. I ignored the food and focused solely on undermining this new guard. I could be very manipulative when I wanted to be.
“So, what’s your name?” came the question. The stallion merely shot me a bored look and said nothing. I tried again with, “So what’s your job here? Other than guarding us of course?” Still no reply. I could tell that this stallion was going to get very annoying very fast. “I really like your mane. It’s a very nice shade of charcoal.”
“Thank you.” Oh at last! A coherent response! I was beginning to give up hope of ever getting a word out of this stallion.
“Uuum, if you don’t mind me asking again, what’s your name?” A long pause ensued before he answered in a voice almost too low to hear,
“Wraith.” Not the chatty time then. Still, sometimes the quiet types were the best, because they usually had rather low self-esteem.
Before I could say anything more he shut the door and twisted the key in the lock with a click and an, “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”
“Aww, come on Wraith. It can be our little secret. You and I, just having a small chat every day. No pony else needs to know. You can get all your worries and fears off of your chest.”
“No. They’d enslave me too.” So the Scavengers enslaved their own personnel for talking to slaves. I guess that works too. But I knew I could get this stallion to talk. I could see it in his eyes that inside he was weak. Something about the way they shone and glinted in the light let me know that. Actually, he had rather nice eyes. They were large and a brilliant red, and contrasted very well with his coat. They were sensitive though, and fit well with his thin face. I dare say that he was rather handsome if he’d only talk a little more. And if he wasn’t a Scavenger.
He turned his back on me and slunk back to his chair. Yes, he slunk. He was a slinker; he didn’t trot or stride, he slunk around with his head bowed and his eyes to the floor. He looked depressed, dismal, as if his life had lost meaning. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor soul. Then I immediately stopped feeling sorry for him because he didn’t deserve my sympathy. Not after what he’d likely done. He sat and began to strip his rifle, laying the parts on the floor in an organised fashion. Alright, I was going to make him talk, “So, Wraith, do you like your job guarding us? I mean, we slaves need to be guarded or we may escape, but wouldn’t you much rather be out in the field? Putting that rifle of yours to good use killing ponies?” By the looks of things he’d gone back into his quiet mode, as he made no reply or attempt to acknowledge me in any way. He just started pulling through the barrel of his rifle.
As I said, sometimes the quiet ones were the best, but the stubborn ones were the worst. It’s difficult to manipulate somepony when you have no way of judging your progress. The best I could do was rile him up inside, “You must really enjoy you job to be willing to sit here for hours on end whilst we rot in this cell. Unless, of course, you were conscripted here, in which case this must be extremely boring.” This time he snorted angrily to try and deter me, by now I’d gotten under his fur I wasn’t letting go. I chose a new topic which I hoped would make him more willing to talk, “I must be really annoying you right now. I mean, just listen to me rambling on. I never shut up, do I? I bet it really pisses you off. Oh well, guess there’s no point trying to stop me. Unless you have any objections?”
“Please, shut up!” at last came the reply from charcoal mane pony. He placed his rifle bolt onto the floor and stood up, walking over to the door and staring down at me. Like I said, he was tall and I was quite short, so he seemed to tower over me as he glared into my eyes with malice.
“How old are you Wraith?”
“What does it matter? It’s not like you care. You’re just trying to manipulate me. Get me angry. I don’t want to be angry; I want to be alone to wallow in my own selfish pity. Leave me alone!”
I enjoyed a brief stare down with him, which I ultimately won, before asking again, “So how old are you?”
“I’m nineteen. Leave me alone so I can be miserable in peace.”
“Have you ever had a marefriend, Wraith?”
“No. Nor do I want one.” He turned his back on me and I could feel him fuming silently. Nineteen eh? Never had a marefriend? This just screamed of somepony who was humorously insecure about himself. It also screamed sexual tension, but I was a way off going that far. Not even as a last resort. In hind sight, if I didn’t get out of here soon then it may not be an option.
“Hey Wraith?”
“No.” Well that was blunt. He turned his back on me and walked back to his chair to finish cleaning his rifle. I stared into space for a while, thinking of nothing in particular, and then shook myself out of my half-trance and turned back into the cell. Looks like I was just going to have to get used to the wooden floor boards and rather dull wall paper.
I started searching for things to keep me occupied. The Scavengers must have stripped the classroom of anything useful, but they were bound to have left something behind. Let’s see, there was a bit of chalk that was likely from and old black board that the Scavengers had ripped off the wall, there was a rather tattered Daring Do book that might make a good read, a ream of paper stacked in one corner and a few loose pieces of string. I took my treasures to an unused corner and grouped them together. They were mine now, and the Scavengers weren’t going to take them away from me.
I picked up the chalk with my magic and began to draw on the floor. I wasn’t drawing with any real aim, just to relieve the chronic boredom. I drew my old house, a Scavenger getting shot in the head, various diagrams of stitching techniques and so on. I was quite content for a while, ferreting away in my corner as the stick of chalk gradually got shorter and shorter. I’d covered quite a lot of the floor and some of the walls in my drawings before suddenly becoming aware of a presence behind me. I peered over my shoulder and saw Mystery gazing at my chalk sketches. I released the stump from my magic and let it clack to the floor and swivelled around to face the filly. She didn’t say anything at first, but finally asked, “Whatch’ya drawing?”
“Oh just this and that. Would you like to draw something too?” She nodded and took up the chalk in her own magic which I noticed was a pastel yellow, similar to mine.
She started to drag the chalk over the wooden floor boards in what seemed to me like a series of random lines, but likely brought her much comfort. I leaned against the wall, content to just watch her draw. There are two ways to piss a pony off, one is to insult them in some way. The other to act particularly smug and optimistic at every opportunity. I glanced at Spinner across the room. I shot her a charming smile and pushed my hat over my eyes, crossed my legs and started to snooze. It wasn’t a deep sleep, just a light nap to rest my eyes.
***
I was pulled out of my blissful rest by Mystery tugging on the sleeve of my jumper. I pushed my hat onto the crown of my head and yawned before looking over at the filly. She was beaming broadly and it pleased me to see that she was happy for the first time in a long time. She stopped tugging my sleeve and said in an excited voice, “Look, I drew you!” I leant to my side slightly to get a better look. What I saw was a little stick pony wearing a hat talking to a larger stick pony with a particularly frowny face.
She bounced excitedly, pointing at it, “That’s you, see? You’re the one with the hat. And that’s the meanie guard that you annoyed.”
I chuckled, “He looks a little cross with me don’t you think?”
“Yea! That’s because he’s mean and doesn’t want to talk. He’d rather sulk on his own.”
“That’s very good Mystery. You should be an artist.” I could see her beaming with pride at my statement. I lifted the book I’d found earlier with my magic and handed it to her. “You know how to read, don’t you Mystery?”
“Yea.”
“Well why don’t you read that?”
“What is it?”
“It’s an adventure book about this explorer who likes to do dangerous things. She’s really cool and escapes from all kinds of traps to get the treasure from the bad guys.” I winked at her. “Sounds like another little pony that I know.” She squeed with joy and scampered back to where Spinner was waiting, looking rather annoyed.
I was glad that I could help Mystery. It wasn’t exactly breaking her out and helping her to freedom, but it was freedom in some sense. I’d given her cause to realise that there was still some good in this politically unstable hell hole of a world. I’d built a couple bridges that had been in a poor state of repair, but most importantly, I’d given her a friend. Not the kind of over protective ‘thinks they know what’s best for you’ king of friend like Spinner, but a friend who was happy to play games with her, be like a mother to her. I’d given her something that she’d not known for a long time, and it made me feel warm inside. Kindness, everypony, is a quality that will always be rewarded.
I stretched my legs and clambered to my hooves, picking up a few of the threads that I’d found earlier. I brought them to the middle of the room, where the light hung down. A lonely yellow bulb that would flicker occasionally. I fixed the threads to various parts of the light and the nearby ceiling, and at the ends of each one, I tied a little piece of the chalk. They all hung at various heights, but that was the point. The whole process took me about half an hour, and when I finished I felt rather pleased with myself. It was a sort of mobile that cast interesting shadows against the wall, and would sway if one blew on it, changing the shapes for a brand new adventure.
It was only then that I realised that I’d exhausted a large number of my treasures. Now the only thing left was the ream of paper, which still stayed stacked just on the outskirts of the drawings Mystery and I had made. I decided that it would be a shame to waste it, so I trotted up to the door and glanced through the small window again. Wraith was still there, rifle re-assembled and slung over the back of the chair. He wasn’t doing anything. He was probably sleeping, although he didn’t seem to be breathing. I called out to him, “Hey, Wraith?”
Wraith groaned, then turned to look at me, “What could you possibly want?”
“A pen?” Wraith shook his head.
“I’m not allowed to give anything to the prisoners, except food at certain times. If you wanted a pen then maybe you shouldn’t have been caught.” Bastard. As if I had a choice whether or not I got caught. Ha, I’d like to see him under similar circumstances. I was just about to say something more when he cut in first, “Oh and by the way, there’s going to be a Sadist coming in her to examine you to determine whether or not he wants you as a slave. There’ll be a bit of a delay before he makes his decision, but be patient and he won’t have to punish you.”
“What happens if he chooses me?”
“That’s not for me to decide. Once you’re his, you’re his.”
Well no shit. What I’d meant was, was there any paperwork or forms that needed filling out? Did he need to pay anypony? Did he need to get parent’s consent or some bullshit like that? Evidently Wraith had misinterpreted me. I pulled myself away from the door and looked at Mystery, who stared back. I grinned, “The meanie guard’s being mean again.” She smiled back at me. Looks like that was going to be our little inside joke. Or at least, it would so long as I wasn’t taken away by some Sadist. I could feel a knot form in my stomach. I didn’t want to have to leave Mystery. Sure I’d likely be brought back here, but I didn’t want her to go through the pain of losing me so soon.
I spent several hours nervously waiting for the arrival of the Sadist, holding my hat against my chest and gingerly stroking my mane back every now and again. I decided that I needed to make a bad impression. Bad enough to make him not like me, but not bad enough to convince him to punish me. Mystery had come over to ask me what was wrong, and I simply replied, “It’s nothing for you to worry about. The meanie guard is just inviting one of his meanie friends around for a play session.”
There was a jangle of key s and the sound of the lock sliding out of place. The door opened and in stepped Wraith, rifle on shoulder, looking rather tired. He stood to attention and gave a brisk salute as the superior ranking Sadist stepped in. He was a very large pegasus stallion. His wings arched across his back in a way that made them look almost mechanical, and he had a stern look on his face. He had so many knives strapped to his tunic that I struggled to see any of the underlying material, and for a cutie mark he had an eyeball with a knife protruding from it.
He spotted me and called me to ‘shun. I ignored the command and he huffed to himself, evidently displeased. He took a few brisk steps before halting in front of me. He looked me up and down and took in my clothes and general appearance. He sniffed and asked, “So what have you been doing since you got here, slave?”
“Not much. Just masturbating quietly in a corner,” I lied.
“Oh so you’re that kind of mare,” he grinned. “Got a knack for horseplay do you?” He laughed at his own joke. I found it cringe-worthily unfunny and it just soared completely over Wraith’s head, who looked a little confused. The Sadist was a good few feet taller than me and definitely much stronger. At his hip I could see a very large pistol, and over his back was a drum fed light machine gun.
“Unfortunately I’m not really looking for that kind of slave. I need somepony who’s good at weapon maintenance. Do you know anything about that?” I shook my head. “Well how’s your dexterity?”
“Shocking. I struggle to turn the pages of a book without cocking something up.”
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because it looks like it took some skill to put up this thing, and I haven’t seen it here before so I can only assume it was you who did it. Correct?” He blew on my mobile and the chalks clacked together as they swung on the end of their threads. I shook my head, “Unfortunately not. That was all his doing.” I gestured towards the well-dressed stallion who looked up suddenly in confusion.
The Sadist rounded on him, “Is that so. Tell me slave, do you have a master already?”
“Uh, yea. Why?”
“Wraith, who owns this pony?” Wraith consulted a list of names in a notebook that he produced from his breast pocket.
“That would be Assault Commander Starlight, sir.”
“I shall see how much Starlight wants for him. I am done here. Lock them up Wraith.”
“Sir.” Wraith saluted again and closed the door behind him after the Sadist had left. He locked the door and looked over at me. I could tell from his gaze that he knew that I’d made all that up, but for some reason he hadn’t said anything. I was thankful for it, and to show my thanks I decided to give him a few minutes break from my incessant attempts to manipulate him.
“Why would you do that?” What? Oh the stallion that I’d framed.
“Sorry. I panicked.”
“Why did you tell him it was me? Why would somepony do that?” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best idea I’ve come up with. I hadn’t really planned this far ahead and now I was wishing I had. I shot him a rather sheepish grin.
“Look, I’m sorry. I felt intimidated. I didn’t want to just sell myself to him, and I’m sorry for anything that I may have done to you.”
“Look, I’m rather happy where I am thanks. I don’t need change at the moment! My current owner treats me rather well as it happens, who knows what this guy’s going to be like? Aaargh, I could have done without all that!”
“I’m sure it’ll be okay. He won’t sell you on immediately will he?”
“The loyalty of the Scavengers is fickle. They have no shame and wouldn’t think twice about turning their back on you if it benefits them in some way. Be it on your head if this new son of a bitch ends up torturing me!” I fell back onto my haunches and took off my hat, lying it down in front of me. I felt like such an idiot. I closed my eyes and confined myself to my own thoughts.
The next thing I felt was my hat being pressed gently onto my head. When I opened my eyes I jumped backwards when I noticed Mystery’s face so close up to mine her eyes were almost all I could see of her. She laughed and I rubbed my spine where I’d fallen, “Don’t surprise me like that! I could’ve hurt myself!”
“Sorry.” She was most certainly not sorry. In fact she found my surprise rather amusing. “Wanna play a game?”
“What did you have in mind?”
We played our game, which I played little attention to but she enjoyed, whilst I pondered my existence. So far this place had proven escape proof. However, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from reading various escape novels it’s that no prison is escape proof. There had to be a way to get out of here, all I had to do was figure it out. This is where my encyclopaedia of everything would have come in handy, but it had been confiscated by crimson cute butt pony and only Celestia knew where it was now.
Mystery let out a childish cheer of joy as she won and I flung my arms up into the air in defeat, “Not fair! You must have cheated!”
“Nope,” she shook her head. “Maybe you just suck at this game?”
“How dare you, you little cheat!” I playfully wrestled her to the floor amidst squeals of joy. I heard the metal door open and in stepped killjoy pony himself. He drew his pistol which he pointed vaguely in our general direction, “No fighting you two!”
“We’re just playing!” called Mystery from the floor.
“Yea Wraith, we’re just playing!” I walked up to him and pulled him close, whispering in his ear in a quiet voice. “You can’t punish us for playing.”
He pulled away from me, “I can punish you for whatever the fuck I want! You’re the prisoners here!”
“Really?” I advanced towards him, backing him up deeper into the cell. “Because by the looks of things we’re having more fun than you are.” I could see him twisting inside, either in rage or fear, likely the former. He pushed me backwards and pointed the pistol at my left eye, “I’m not supposed to have fun. I’m supposed to stop you escaping!”
“Everypony or just me in particular?”
“Shut up!” he pushed me backwards again. “The fact remains that I am the Scavenger and you are the prisoners! Now get back into that corner!”
I heard a loud slam as the door behind me swung shut. I glanced over my shoulder, and Wraith glanced over my other one and both of us saw a young filly standing between us and the now closed metal door, “If we have to stay then so do you!” Wraith pushed me aside and, me being me, I fell over with a loud thump as Wraith advanced, pistol at the ready, towards Mystery. He picked her up by the hair, prompting a squeal of pain, and pushed the firearm under her chin. He held that pose for a while, the only sign that he was still alive being the slow rise and fall of his ribs as he breathed.
I heard him growl, and then he dropped both Mystery and the pistol simultaneously. The weapon clattered loudly on the hard floor, and I rushed to grab it and point it at his head. I had absolutely no idea whether or not I could bring myself to pull the trigger, but he didn’t know that. For all he knew I was a ruthless psychopath. Mystery scampered back into the corner, evidently quite shaken, but still with a determined look on her face. Wraith covered his face and fell to his knees, his breathing erratic and arms shaking. I picked him up by the collar of his tunic and pushed him against the door.
“All right. I haven’t been in here anywhere near as long as the rest of these ponies, but I sure as hell need to get out of here! Now what you’re going to do, is…”
“I’ll help you.”
“Sorry, what?” I lowered the pistol and went to query his actions further, but he cut me short.
“I’m as sick of this god forsaken place just as much you are. This lot are a bunch of ruthless killers with no respect for the wellbeing of others. I’ll help you. But I can’t bring everypony. It’s suspicious enough trotting around with one prisoner in tow, but any more than that and questions will be asked. I’m sorry but I can’t risk it.” I nodded to indicate that I’d understood what he’d said. I turned around to face my fellow prisoners.
“You all heard what he said. Unless any of you are particularly keen to get out of here then I’ll go.”
The stallion replied first by saying, “I’m quite content here, thank you very much.” Spinner scowled, “I’d be much better off without you, but somepony needs to stay to take care of Mystery. She can’t go; she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.”
“I can defend myself perfectly well!” I thought it was cute the way that Mystery tried to stand up for herself at that point, but Spinner was right. Mystery wouldn’t last three seconds on her own, and she couldn’t come with me. This I told her, and whilst I could tell that she didn’t like it, she knew I was right. She looked rather forlorn, so I added, “Hey, whenever I can get my hoofs on enough weapons, I’m going to bring the entire LRSA down on them, and I’m going to get you out of here if it’s the last thing I do. The Scavengers haven’t won yet, and I don’t intend to let them!”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Take care of yourself and don’t let the Scavengers tell you who to be. They can call you what they want, but to me and everypony else, you’re still Mystery and we all love you for it.”
She smiled and I smiled back. Then she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. She buried her face into my neck and murmured softly, “Please don’t go!”
“I have to. I need this. I have to make the Scavengers pay for their crimes against pony kind. I promise you, I will come back and I will get you out of here. Then we’ll find somewhere safe to stay until everything settles down again. Okay?” She nodded. “Can you let me go now?”
She unravelled her arms from around me and sat back. I tipped my hat and bid farewell to my fellow and soon to be past cell mates and patted Wraith on the head, “All right old friend, get me out of here.” He said nothing and proceeded to silently open the door and step out with me in tow. He shut the door behind him and locked it. It felt great to be free. Ish. I was free-ish. I still had to get out of this hell hole. And I still had the pistol. I could threaten this stallion, take his uniform and get out of here on my own and not have to follow his rules. On the other hoof, I had no idea of the surrounding area, or of how to effectively use a firearm to properly defend myself. On top of that, Wraith’s knowledge of the Scavenger encampments and operations in the area could come in very useful. I decided to follow his lead at least for now.
“We’re going to go to the armoury first. There we will get you a better weapon. Then we’ll go to the storage warehouse and recover your property. Then we walk out of the entrance, where I will pretend to be on my way to execute you. Once out of sight we can make our break. Do you understand?”
“Sure, sure. I don’t really care what you do, just get me out of here!”
“Patience,” he said calmly, advancing towards the door with his rifle slung over his back along with his saddlebags. I moved to stand behind him, pistol at the ready, whilst Wraith nudged the door open. It swung forwards and light flooded the hallway. It was so bright that I flinched away from it, covering my eyes briefly for a moment until they adjusted. Wraith and I stepped outside, closing the door behind us. I had lost all track of time in the cell despite the ticking clock that constantly annoyed me. It appeared to be early morning, with the sun just over the horizon casting a golden glow onto the town. A light breeze blew the foliage to one side and there was a slight chirping from all the trees. Very few ponies were about; the only ones who were happened to be groggily walking around doing early morning chores or guarding various important buildings.
“So, which one’s the armoury pal of mine?” He didn’t answer me vocally but merely pointed with his hoof at a large building with two guard ponies standing outside the main entrance. He started towards it and I followed, taking in my surroundings. The town was actually quite pleasant, with various small shops lining the streets and the proud church standing in the centre. There was a tree on every street corner and benches in the street for resting. It had probably been a very nice place to live before the Scavengers had come and turned it into what it was today.
We passed two ponies making out on a bench and when I looked up towards the church spire, I saw a unicorn levitating a very large looking sniper rifle in front of his right eye. I began to feel very exposed. The Scavengers never ceased to amaze me when it came to their tactics. They seem chaotic, but they are very clever. Whilst it looks like all of the windows are boarded up, upon closer examination you can see ponies armed with rifles and machineguns sitting in second story windows and anti-tank guns and rocket launchers around street corners. What I originally saw as an empty town was actually a very heavily defended tactical location. Smarter than they look really.
I was snapped back to the present when I was halted by one of the guards standing by the door. He was a large pegasus with a pastel blue coat and black hair, a shotgun slung over his back and ‘Come at me’ written on the side of his helmet. The other guard stopped Wraith, “Whad’ya want, Quiet Type?”
“Weapons.”
“Well no shit! But I can’t just let you into the armoury because you want weapons. What do you want them for?”
“Execution.”
The guard laughed, “Execution? Of whom exactly?”
“Her,” Wraith pulled on the neck of my jumper and pushed me to the floor. “Tried to escape.”
“You don’t say. Have you been a naughty little filly? Well you’re getting what you deserve if you ask me. Okay, one weapon, bring it back as soon as you’re done, cleaned and with proof of your work.” The guard pushed the door open and allowed us both inside, shutting the door behind us.
The armoury was large, with racks of weapons organised in neat rows on racks and shelves all along the sides and in the middle of the room. There was a desk at the back where one would sign a register if they took anything out of the armoury and many, many shelves of ammunition of every shape and size on the back wall. Behind the desk a mare with a chalk white mane and steely grey fur sat on a chair, her hind legs resting on the desk, reading what appeared to be a ‘Playpony’ magazine. There were several lights hanging from the ceiling, casting a white glow onto everything and letting out a constant low hum which quickly got annoying if you focused on it.
Wraith pulled me close and whispered softly to avoid attracting the attention of the pony behind the desk, “What weapons are you proficient with? Pistols, rifles, machine guns, what?”
“I’ve never actually fired a weapon before,” I replied, which made me feel rather pathetic. Wraith clapped a hoof to his face in annoyance. He told me to stay put and then when to investigate the various rows of firearms. I was previously un-aware of how many different types, shapes and sizes of firearms that there were. The number of weapons here must have numbered in the hundreds. Wraith immediately selected out a small pistol, tested the systems and took it to the desk. Chalk mane looks sort of like Einstein pony dropped her magazine and took her legs off of the desk. She took the weapon and scrawled a few notes on the register, “I don’t see you here often, Quiet Type. Not since you specialised. How have you been doing? How’s the open battlefield suiting you?”
“Fine, thanks.” The mare returned the weapon to Wraith and asked how many clips of ammunition he wanted. He requested five, and received as many.
He holstered the new firearm and added the ammunition to the pouches in his tunic, nodding his head and turning back to me. The mare called, “That’ll cost you a fag per round.” Wraith nodded, then took hold of me and pulled me out of the door behind him. We went on our way quietly as one of the guards called over, “Make sure to tell me what colour her brains are!” which we both ignored. I had to begin a light trot to keep up with Wraith, and I soon asked him where we were now headed.
“Store house. That building.” He gestured vaguely towards a building which again was rather well guarded. Only one pony stood guard at the door, but I noticed a well camouflaged sniper positioned in the second story window, his scope trained on me.
We entered the store house without a hitch, and saw it to be in a similar layout to the armoury, with everything that the Scavengers had looted on display ready to be checked out. On the back wall this time was something titled ‘Slave Exchange’, which (amongst some vulgar graffiti) had a long list with names of all of the slaves currently owned, awaiting trade or in holding and their masters or mistresses. There was a shocking number and I made a mental note to free all of them if I got the chance. I noticed my name amidst the ‘awaiting trade’ group and saw Mystery in the ‘in holding section’. The whole idea made me sick to my stomach.
Wraith pulled me around the building, making me point out everything that was mine or that I felt I needed. I managed to get back my saddlebags, my books, some extra books (I would have more space in my saddlebags now) and my canteen, still filled with water. Wraith checked all of it out at the register, the pony this time was a very young stallion, one could almost call him a colt, who told Wraith how he was planning to specialise as a Sadist when he’d done his first year. Wraith wished him luck; I wanted to spit in his eye. I avoided the temptation to ruin his vision with my saliva and instead slung the saddlebags over my back and filled them with all of my other equipment.
Now all we had to do was get out of the camp, into the nearby forest and be gone. I was waiting with held breath. I was so close to regaining my freedom I could almost taste it. Nothing was going to take this way from me now, nothing and nopony. Except, maybe, the perimeter guards. We were halted by the same stallion that I’d met when I was first brought here, and many of the other ponies on duty I recognised too. The guard pulled Wraith to one side, “Where do you think you’re going, Quiet Type?”
“Out to execute the slave. She tried to escape.”
“Really?” this guard was evidently more intelligent than the others. He handed Wraith his assault rifle. “Well do it here, I haven’t seen an execution in I don’t know how long. Slaves these days are too well behaved.”
“My orders were to do it outside of the camp.”
One of the guards picked me up and threw me out of the gate. I fell in a heap and immediately attempted to pick myself up and straighten my hat, but the stallion who’d thrown me planted a hoof in my spine and held it there. The guard captain pushed Wraith out after me, “There, you’re outside the perimeter. Blast her brains out!”
“In the trees. It’s easier to dispose of the evidence in the trees.”
“Since when have we ever cared about disposing of evidence?”
“Since I was given the order.” The guard captain picked up Wraith by the collar. He was considerably bigger than him and far more intimidating.
“Do you have any proof of these orders you claim to have been given?”
“If you want to risk losing one of those stripes, sir, then I suggest you speak to the Camp Group Leader.”
The captain pondered this for a moment, then dropped Wraith on his backside. “All right. But I’m sending two guards with you to make sure you get the job done right. Custom, Cinnamon, over here.”
Two ponies (one stallion one mare) came to the position of attention and awaited orders. Cinnamon (a beige coloured earth pony stallion with a brown mane) sported a heavy looking assault rifle and several knives, whilst Customs I recognised as crimson cute butt pony from when I’d been captured. She looked down at me and with a grin said, “Oh, it’s you. Thought I’d be seeing more of you. Bad slave!” She slapped me in the face. I wanted to punch her so hard in the slit she’d taste my hoof in the back of her throat but I resisted the temptation. The captain laughed and pulled Custom over, “Make sure that Quiet Type does a good job. I want that pony deader than his sex life, got it?”
“No worries, Commander.”
With that I was hauled to my hooves by Cinnamon pony who spouted a, “Quick march, kid,” and with that we began our journey towards the tree line. We quickly separated out, with the guards at the front and me and Wraith behind. I leant over to him and whispered a quick, “What do we do now?”
“Take this,” he pushed the pistol into my hoof that I didn’t need for walking. “It’s loaded, but don’t shoot yet. Wait until we’re behind the trees.”
“Why don’t we just shoot them now and be gone?”
“Because the shot will raise alarms and we’re bound to be spotted by a sniper, so keep your safety on until we’re out of sight.”
“Safety?” Wraith let out an exasperated sigh.
We finally made it to the trees (it was deceptively further than it looked), and Wraith was immediately struck in the face by Cinnamon, who brought the butt of his rifle to his jaw. In panic I drew the pistol, but Customs wrestled me down and disarmed me before I even knew what was happening. Credit where credit is due, the Scavengers are incredible at hoof to hoof combat. Wraith was fortunately still conscious, but with a severely bleeding jaw and in no fit state to make any rescue attempts. Crimson cuffed all four of my legs and stood me up again, making me look like one of those mannequin ponies one would see in a clothes shop. Custom was about eye level with me, and she grinned an evil grin that only a Scavenger could manage. I heard Wraith call out, “What are you doing? We’re supposed to be executing her!”
He was quickly struck again by Cinnamon, this time with less force, but enough to stop him talking, “Shut it Quiet Type! Live up to your name!”
“Oh sure, we’ll execute her eventually,” began Custom, poking her hoof against my nose. “But Cinnamon and I have been quite inactive lately and we thought we’d play a little game with our little slave first.” This time I didn’t manage to resist and I spat into her face. She chuckled and wiped away my saliva with her hoof. A blast of magic immediately rendered me unable to move and I began to panic. Custom brushed a hoof against my neck, “Silly filly! If you resist then it’s only going to hurt more!” I felt Cinnamon slap me in the flank, and had I been able to move and not cuffed then I’d have broken his jaw, but I was powerless and I feared the immediate future. I was so close to freedom!
I braced myself for what was to come, but the colossal boom of a rifle sent blood spattering over my back and onto Custom’s face. I felt a heavy mass of pony fall on top of me and I assumed it to be Cinnamon. Crimson moved to draw her pistol, “Why you little bast…” She was cut off as another round passed through her skull, Wraith having reloaded and taken aim. Custom fell backwards and as she hit the ground her magic dissipated. She was still alive, but only just. Wraith rounded on her, his rifle by his side, “I never liked you anyway,” he said, before bringing a hoof down on her head, hard. Her skull caved inwards with a loud cracking noise, brains and blood and bone fragments staining the grass as Wraith repeatedly stomped on her head until there was no way that she could still possibly be alive. I shook Cinnamon off my back and asked Wraith if he could undo my bonds. He was quick about it, unlocking both sets of cuffs and clipping them to his belt, “Search Cinnamon for food, water, ammunition, anything that’s useful.”
I was very shaken by the experience. I’d seen ponies die before, but I’d never fully witnessed the brutality of close quarters fighting until that moment, and as I looked down at Cinnamon’s lifeless corpse, a large gaping hole in his head from where Wraith had shot him, I had to look away and vomit into a patch of grass. Wraith pulled me back and slapped me hard in the face. In truth I was shocked, and I just stared at him blankly. He let me go, “Pull yourself together. There’s no turning back now. We must hurry; they’ll have heard that and they’ll get suspicious. You’re just going to have to get used to this. Loot that body and let’s go!”
I resisted the urge to throw up again as I started to search the pockets of the dead pony. All the time I muttered to myself, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He had tried to rape me, sure, but he still had a life that he lived, ambitions to strive for, mistakes he’d made. He was just as much of a pony as I was. Except that he was a Scavenger. With that in mind I made quick progress. In total I found one water canteen, three bars of chocolate and two clips of ammunition. I also took one of his knives just in case. I gave the ammunition to Wraith and he inspected it, “They feel like two full clips. Seven point nine two millimetre. Same calibre as my rifle,” He pocketed the ammunition. “So you’ve never fired a weapon before?”
“No.”
“Well you’re going to need to learn to, and fast. Now let’s go,” Wraith drew out a compass. “There’s an encampment of Wanderers a few degrees north-west of our position. That way. If we maintain a steady pace then we’ll be there by nightfall. Move.”
And on that order we ran. The forest wasn’t dense in its foliage but never the less I hit my head several times and tripped on roots or leaves more times than I care to remember. We hadn’t run very far when I heard shouts of rage and calls of, “Get ‘em!”
“After them!”
“Which way did they go?”
“Over here I think!”
“Move! Move! Keep those rifles down range!”
“When I get my hooves on the fuckers I swear, I’m gonna…”
“Hunters! Follow me!”
“BURN THE FOREST DOWN!!!”
We ran faster. If the Scavengers caught us now then our chances of survival became nill. After what seemed like hours of constant running we finally emerged from the forest. Wraith vaulted a fallen tree and brought his rifle to bear on the forest. I followed suit with my pistol resting on the tree and a sizeable rock floating next to my head. There was no movement in the tree line, but still we waited with our breath held. We must have waited for a good half an hour for the Scavengers to appear, but there was nothing. Not a stir. They must have given up. Still, we didn’t let our guard down. We turned about and continued on our journey, but neither of us could help the odd glance over our shoulder or pulling the other into cover as we thought we heard them coming.
The area beyond the forest was lush and green. Bushes grew in abundance and there were very few hills, making the going a little lighter. Despite our best efforts though, we failed to make it to the Wanderers by nightfall. Wraith hastily gathered wood for a fire and we camped in the cover of some foliage. We sat on opposite sides; the orange glow that seemingly random movements of the flames cast on Wraith’s face highlighted his features, making him look quite impressive. When you got a good look at him as a friend, he really was quite dashing. He looked quite wild, with his mane strewn all over the place and a certain fire in those scarlet red eyes of his. I felt myself staring probably more than I should and I saw him quickly get uncomfortable.
He took out a bayonet and played around with it, spinning it on the end of his hoof. He looked at me, “Have you at least fought somepony before?”
“Not really,” was my solemn reply. “I once had to hit somepony to stop him from taking me to the guards but I’ve never really fought properly.” Wraith planted his muzzle into his free hoof. The bayonet stopped spinning and fell to the floor, hitting the grass with a soft thud.
“I don’t know what you were trying to achieve from coming with me.”
“I want revenge on the Scavengers.”
“How will you do that? You’ve never even killed anypony before. You vomited by looking at a corpse. Alone I’d give you a day if I was to be generous.”
“Wow. Thanks,” I looked into my lap, forlorn. He was right. I didn’t know how I was going to fight back against the Scavengers if I didn’t even know which part of the weapon the bullets came out of.
“I’ll teach you.”
“You’ll teach me to shoot?”
“I’ll teach you to kill. Shooting, explosives, knives and so on.”
“When do we start?”
“Now,” Wraith picked up his bayonet and ordered me to draw the knife I’d picked up from Cinnamon. I did so and prepared myself to fight. It was a rather crude weapon; literally just a large kitchen knife whilst Wraith had a bayonet built for purpose. He stood in a neutral stance, blade raised and held at an angle. “Stab me.”
I raised my knife and moved to bring it down into his chest. Before I knew what had happened he’d dodged out of the way. I stumbled forward and received a hoof into my spine. I fell to the floor and Wraith lifted my head, holding the blade of the bayonet against my throat. I panted, waiting for him to let me go. He did and pulled me up. I brushed myself down and straightened my hat. Wraith sheathed his blade, “You were too aggressive. Don’t underestimate the strength of your opponent. Also, don’t over compensate. You put too much force behind you swing and you stumbled. Scale your strength with the strength of your enemy. Skirmish first; gauge their skill and their strength. A good fighter will be able to disguise most of their experience. Treat whoever you’re fighting as superior and you’ll gain an advantage over less experienced opponents.”
I nodded, “Okay. I’m ready to go again.”
“If you say so,” he drew his bayonet again and adopted his stance. This time I spent some time looking over him before I moved, looking for a weakness. His stance was very stable and flexible. No matter where I went he could easily dodge out of the way. I decided to duck down low. I charged forwards and tried to get as close as possible, trying to break his guard. I swung at his neck but again he dodged. This time I held my place and remained standing. He had dodged behind me so I spun around. He swung a hoof at me which I dodged, but what I’d failed to notice was his outstretched leg. I tripped and fell again, and again Wraith put his blade to my throat.
I groaned in frustration. Fighting was harder than I gave it credit for. Wraith helped me up again, “Better. Remember to always be aware of where every individual part of your opponent is. If you’re too close then take a step back, take in their stance and strike where they are weak. An opponent will do whatever it takes to kill you, so don’t rely on a strict combat strategy. Be flexible, adapt as they adapt. If they step forward take a step back. If they lunge then dodge. Don’t follow a strict pattern. Learn the moves and learn their counters.”
We continued in such a manner for what must have been a good two hours more. I was by no stretch of the imagination an expert by this point but I was still able to keep a sparring match going for a good couple of minutes before I finally made a mistake and Wraith was able to nail me. I’d tried to use magic against him, trying to trip him up or disarm him, but it turns out that live ponies provide a considerable counter force and only a very experienced unicorn can effectively use magic in combat. Never the less, he was very pleased with the progress I’d made in such a short space of time. He said that I’d picked up the art faster than anypony he’d ever seen before. He said that it must have been his good teaching, but personally I think it was just that I was a good student.
He promised to teach me how to shoot when we finally made it to the Wanderers, but for the rest of that night we rested. Wraith introduced me to the idea of sentries. He explained that whilst one of us rested, the other would remain awake and make sure that nopony tried to attack us. He volunteered to go first and I got a few well needed hours of sleep before he woke me for my shift.
I’ll start by saying that night sentry is one of the most boring things that one can possibly do. All you do is sit there scanning the landscape for anything that moves whilst all of your body heat seeps out of you and you start to yawn more frequently than you breathe normally. Part of me actually wanted the Scavengers to attack just for something interesting to do. I spent a large portion of my shift staring at Wraith. Whilst in hindsight I can see how that’s a little creepy, he looked so adorable when he was sleeping that I just couldn’t help it. He was a front sleeper, with his head always tilted to the right, his breathing slow with one hoof under his chest, the other by his side. He didn’t snore either, which was great news for me. Had he been a snorer then I’d probably have punched his harbour lights in by now, as such things very quickly annoy me.