Cheerilee's class had let out over an hour ago, and the students had wildly dispersed with their usual cries of rebellious freedom. Cheerilee herself had graded a few papers, and then left half an hour after that. The only student still remaining was Neat Freak, a very timid young colt who typically sat in the back of the room and would often go, as far as Cheerilee knew, as long as a week without uttering a single word. He turned all his assignments in on time, but never participated in group events.
The reason that Neat Freak had stayed so late was his customary tradition of making sure that all the desks were completely straight. He'd set them at all at right angles, the front legs of the desks sitting perfectly upon little X's that he'd placed on the floor with tape. Then he'd use a level to ensure they were in fact all aligned, and if he had to move so much as one of them, that required starting all over and measuring them again. He did this mostly to avoid going home, so he didn't have to listen to his parents fighting like they usually did.
By the time all the desks were properly aligned, it was nearly dinner time, and he finally left the schoolhouse. The door swung shut behind him and latched from the inside on its own, until such time that Cheerilee would return in the morning and unlock it. She knew about his quirky little habit, and allowed him to stay as late as he wanted. She didn't know how things were at home, and he had no intention of telling her.
Neat sighed contentedly to himself, and shuffled along the small dirt path leading from the schoolhouse into town, which eventually evolved into well groomed grass instead of the unheard of concept of asphalt. It was late afternoon, almost evening, but despite this he was in no hurry to get home. No hurry to get anywhere, really. The young colt was just passing by the bakery when his large ears perked at an uncomfortably foreign noise.
Gruuuuhhh...
He froze. He'd been in the process of counting how many steps it took to get from the schoolhouse, do a complete lap around town, then towards home. He was currently somewhere in the late 200's region, lost count, and debated going back to the schoolhouse to start over. "Hello?" he squeaked timidly. Somepony was there, he was certain of it. He was at a disadvantage here, he didn't have wings OR magic to aid him.
He stood there for a moment, unsure of what exactly to do, and his decision was made for him. Around the corner shuffled a groaning mare, and not just any mare at that, but one that any decent resident of Ponyville would recognize instantly. That light blue pelt was a dead giveaway, the multicolored prism of a mane unmistakable.
"Rainbow Dash?" he asked quietly. It was more words than he'd spoken in school all week. "Is that you?"
Gruuuhhh...
As Rainbow Dash shuffled forward on limp legs, his heart sank into his chest. Her eyes, while fixed on him, were dull and glassy. Her coat was pale, and she was moving more slowly than he'd ever seen her move in his life. Heck, he and a couple friends had one time watched this really adult movie about this stallion who'd been poisoned or something, and he had to run around to keep his adrenaline up because he'd die if he stopped running. He figured Rainbow Dash had some sort of condition like that.
Most importantly and worst of all, there was what very strongly appeared to be blood trickling down the corners of her mouth on both sides, matting the fur around her chin and neck.
Neat Freak didn't stay around to ask any questions. He booked it, running faster and harder than he'd ever run in his life. He ran for Golden Oak library, pounding his front hooves on the door like a colt who'd just witnessed a murder in the street.
"TWILIGHT!" He screamed. He looked behind him. Rainbow Dash, though slow and staggering, was just coming around the far corner, following the same path. He didn't wait for anypony to open the door, he wrenched it open and flung himself inside, closing the door and locking it, panting heavily. He stood there for a few moments to catch his breath, before hearing faint music upstairs.
The Library itself was mostly on the first floor, with residential services upstairs that were typically off limits to the public. But he slowly trotted up the stairs anyway, feeling like an invader. "Twilight?" he called weakly.
There was the faint click as a door opened, and a very young dragon appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Can I help you?" the dragon asked, cheerfully. He didn't seem concerned that Neat Freak was on the stairs, but didn't appear to want to let him pass, either.
"Need Twilight... emergency..." Neat panted. "Rainbow Dash..."
"What?!" Spike's eyes widened. "Oh, man, come on, she's in the middle of her relaxing time. I'm not supposed to bother her, but this sounds big. You're really sure it was Rainbow Dash? Is Rarity okay?!" he wrung his claws nervously.
"Yes... and I don't know," Neat said slowly. The pair went up to the second floor, and down the hallway to the room on the end. The music grew louder from behind the door, and Spike knocked.
"Twilight?" he called, and slowly creaked the door open.
I like big books and I cannot lie
You other ponies can't deny
When a mare walks in with an itty bitty spine
That can't compare to mine
I like WORDS
Written on that page!
Gonna read them all damn day!
I got hooked, got a lust for learnin'
Gotta keep those pages turnin'
Oh-*
Twilight, who had been dancing in such a jagged, distorted fashion that Spike wasn't sure if she was having fun or a seizure, turned around at this point and shrieked. She bumped against the table with the record player on it and the needle skipped and scratched, sending the entire record out of whack and the player gave a comically exasperated sound before falling completely silent, the record still turning soundlessly.
"Spike!" Twilight scolded, her face was beet red. "This better be good!" Spike, who didn't actually yet know what the problem was, slowly turned and looked at Neat Freak, who was almost as red as Twilight was.
"Rainbow Dash is in trouble," he said slowly, and Twilight immediately looked serious.
"What? Where?!"
"Outside... I saw... she's... I think she's a zombie, Twilight." He saw the look on her face and immediately pressed forward. "I know! I know how it sounds, but it looks really bad, I swear!" Spike was faceclawing.
"There is NO such thing as zombies," Twilight insisted, getting her nerve back. "I taught that lesson to Spike last year, and I'm going to teach it to you now. Come on." She composed herself, and marched right down the stairs, with Spike and Neat Freak following. Twilight, without a moments hesitation, flung open the front door.