• Published 14th Feb 2017
  • 4,469 Views, 712 Comments

PaP: Bedtime Stories - Starscribe



Earth used to have humans living on it. Now it has ponies, some of which used to be human. It will take ten thousand years for every human alive on earth to return. A lot can happen in that much time.

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Under the Weather

Saul pulled his car to a stop at the end of a long stretch of trail, leaning as close to the window as he could and searching for danger. Only when he couldn’t see any sign of motion, neither pony nor predator, did he pull out of the trees, easing the engine cautiously down the slope.

Even after months of practice, Saul still found driving this way required extreme concentration on his part—between putting pressure on the jointed rod he used to apply the brakes or accelerator, turning the wheel without fingers, and navigating around without any true roads to speak of, Saul felt more than a little proud of his work.

Saul did very little he wasn’t proud of, and most of it was mechanical. The back of his Jeep Wrangler was evidence of that, the back-seats replaced with flat metal plates and a series of steel drums, along with a pile of logs and a pony-compatible axe. The smoke trailing behind him was no more than any small campfire might’ve produced, but it was an unfortunate block on perfect stealth.

Still, as quick as ponies could be, not even the flying ones could keep up with him for long when he had plenty of wood and somewhere flat to drive.

As he made his way down the hill, he had to devote more of his concentration to navigation, ready on the breaks and with his hooves on the wheel to prevent an accident. If that ever happens, you’re dead. Even if his new body was strong enough to bend steel with its bare hooves. Even if he could break stone and knock over trees… that wouldn’t’ save him from the mob that was coming.

Saul stopped at the base of his hill to check the map, making sure the doors were locked before getting it out of the glove-box. The map itself was written onto a piece of fading cloth, scrawled with the thick lines of a grease pencil. “Alexandria,” said the westmost extreme of the map. “Your Last Chance.”

Of course Saul couldn’t know for sure if the routes that had been scribbled here were accurate. Though plenty of the larger formations (like mountains) were marked correctly, there was no telling whether the cities and towns would be correctly represented.

And even if they are, Alexandria might not be different than anywhere else. Maybe the plague got there, too.

According to his map, Saul was less than a day’s drive away from the city, which was located somewhere in northern Illinois. He could reach it today if he didn’t care about being noticed. But he did care, which meant that during the night he would find somewhere to hunker down and lock up, same as every other night. Ponies practically never moved at night, even when they were dying of terrible diseases. That meant that tearing through the countryside using what might be the last functioning motor vehicle in the entire country would be a terrible idea.

Saul passed by another town before dark, and he rolled up the windows as he slowed to get a better look. There were plenty of wood and cement buildings here, and plenty of them had electric lights strung up between them. Th

Saul slowed as he saw the shape of buildings in the distance, and the faint glow of electric lights. Light, civilization. Survivors? He rolled up his windows, pulling the pistol from under the dash and setting it beside his map, just in case. Saul only had one magazine left for that, but that might still make the difference between life and death. Many ponies knew what guns were, even if none seemed to have any.

He turned onto what had obviously been a main thoroughfare into the town—not paved, but level and graded like somewhere that saw regular maintenance.

There were no other vehicles on the road, no pedestrians walking by on their way to farm labor of some sort or another. A single large tractor sat on the side of the road, with a flatbed wooden truck attached at the back. There was no cargo, no rust, but no sign of vandalism. Like the tractor had just been left here, key still sitting in the ignition.

There were no bodies, mercifully. Saul had seen so many corpses over the last two weeks, more than he had ever imagined possible. It was the black plague, but so much worse than any history book could possibly illustrate. Whole villages of the dead, thousands of flies and flocks of vultures.

Saul pulled his car to a stop in front of a building marked as a “general store” in huge letters. He locked the wheel with a security bar, then hopped around back to add a few more logs to the fire. Enough to keep the gas-blower (made from salvaged bits of his own air-conditioning system) supplied with fuel-gas for the engine while he was inside.

The general store had electric lights, though they were a far-cry from what he’d known before this mess. The bulbs were gigantic and all slightly different shaped, and the light itself grew brighter and then dimmer in regular cycles. It reminded him a little of a trip he’d once taken to an old mine in arizona, with its own authentic coal-fired generator. It was electricity, but of the most primitive kind.

He walked through a pair of broken doors, walking carefully around the glass. Hooves were tough, but he did not like the idea of getting shards of glass stuck in the fleshy parts.

It might’ve been a gas station, were it not for the goods stored here. Many of them were household supplies--lanterns, oil, basic tools. All looked like they’d been imperfectly made in some victorian factory, though at least they were sized for ponies.

Little in the way of clothing, though Saul had adjusted to that by now. It was easy not to worry about that sort of thing when he was almost always alone. He had looted enough stores that he didn’t need very much. He already had good tools, plenty of rope and camping supplies. Would he find…

Yes. Near the back of the shop, Saul could see an entire shelf packed solid with cans of food. Each one had very basic paper labels, naming the contents is square, blocky letters. Saul yanked open the side of his saddle-bags, and tossed in as many of the cans as it would hold. He repeated this process with the other side, until the leathery fabric began to strain. Despite what was clearly an enormous weight, he hardly felt the strain. He wouldn’t, unless he tried to climb back into the car with the saddlebags still on. That had nearly broken his back the one time he’d been unfortunate enough to (accidentally) try it.

Saul made several trips in and out of the general story, eyes always alert for anyone who might catch him in this theft. As usual, nobody came out to stop him. Maybe I can use this to get into Alexandria, he found himself thinking. If my car and mechanical skill isn’t enough.

He brought other things too--screws, fasteners, rubber gaskets. Other bits of scrap hardware he might need if he had to make more repairs to his jeep. Pony society was nothing compared to the world he’d come from, but it wasn’t nothing. The end of the world might not be so bad if everyone wasn’t dying. Unfortunately, they were.

Saul eventually brought as much as he dared, finishing up with several cords of wood for the back of his jeep. He topped off the bottom of the double-burner, then climbed back into the driver’s seat.

The passenger’s seat was already occupied. Saul gasped, jerking away from the pony sitting beside him. “Yiessss!” He scrambled for the gun he’d brought with him into the shop, but of course it was in the saddlebags in the back seat. He hadn’t thought to get it out, since he was getting back in and about to drive away.

The pony sitting beside him was a blue bat, with wings made of skin and a mane wild and short. She was completely naked, though a little leather holster on one of her forelegs legs held a tiny dagger.

“Yeah, keep staring,” she grinned at him, mane falling over one of her eyes. “That’s as close as you’re gonna get. Just so you’re clear.”

This shouldn’t be sexy this shouldn’t be sexy this shouldn’t be sexy. Saul told himself this, as he had told himself anytime he met a young female pony. It sometimes worked, but it wasn’t working now.

At least he had the good sense to look her over for sores. There were none, nor was there necroses near her hooves or the fleshy tissue on her face. There was no scarring either, as survivors often had. She’s never been infected. “W-what… what the hell are you doing here?” Saul asked, locking his doors.

He moved back into position to drive, placing each of the poles touching his hind legs and pressing the foam pillow near his back to help himself stay upright. He didn’t start driving, though.

“Saving your life,” the pony said, gesturing towards the road in front of them. “That goes to Alexandria.”

“Yeah,” he said, gesturing to the glove box. “I bought a map. Cost me my best flashlight.”

The pony didn’t fumble with the glove-box’s tiny latch as he might’ve done. She moved her hooves as skilfully as though there were invisible fingers attached, opening it on the first try and removing the map. She held it up with both hooves, shaking her head. “Shit. You’ve come all this way?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Whoever this was didn’t have the thick accent he was used to from most ponies he’d met. There was no struggling to understand her. Her english was perfect. “Whoever you are… please put that back and get out of my car.”

“Jackie,” she answered, winking at him. “And hell no. You’re my ride.”

“I’m your--”

“You’re my ride.” she gestured back towards the trunk with one wing. “Hella sweet work by the way. Last time I saw a pony with a gasifier was at least five centuries back. Real brainiac shit you did. I wouldn’t have bothered coming down to save your ass otherwise.”

“How do you--” The bat interrupted him, again. The more often she did it, the more he felt like he wanted to strangle her.

“Dipshit, maybe start driving. Out of town, but swing an immediate right. We’re going north. Alexandria is…” she shivered. “Bad. Alexandria’s bad. If you keep your ass here, they’re going to spill out towards us, and you’re gonna get ripped apart by starving refugees. If not, you’ll get infected for sure. I’ll go back to flying, but you don’t have wings and wouldn’t know how to use them if you did. You’re the one who has something to lose here.”

“If I do, will you tell me what the hell is going on?”

Jackie the bat nodded. “YES. Once you’re on the road.”

Saul sighed, then started driving. He passed through the rest of the town, and sure enough there was a smaller traill off to the right less than a mile away. It was too dark to see for certain, but Saul thought he could see a cloud of smoke rising from the distance. Very large and very far away, like a huge forest fire. “Okay, now.” Saul took a deep breath. “I’ve been winding my way east for weeks now. Everybody who talked to me said Alexandria was gonna be safe. It has some kind of… university or whatever. They have a cure for this thing. That’s what everybody says.”

“Really?” Jackie rolled her eyes. Despite her relaxed posture in the seat, resting on her haunches in a comfortable way, her eyes were laser focused and alert, staring out the windows and constantly scanning the land around the car. Like someone hunted. “Well, that’s a crock of horseshit.” she smiled to herself at the apparent joke. “All the greats are dead, sweetie. Saint Oleum has been dead forever. Even the goddamn alicorn can’t figure this one out, and she’s trying. If Sunset’s ponies can’t do it, than it’s impossible. We’re all just fucking dead.” she looked away, out the dark window. Her face reflected in the glass looked more haunted than any Saul had ever seen. “So many dead.”

“It’s Saul,” He said, though he couldn’t extend a hoof to comfort her. He used both to steer, putting pressure on either side of the wheel. He couldn’t move them and still drive. “My name’s Saul Cook.”

“Well, Saul, I’m the bad news pony,” Jackie said. “You picked a shitty time to be a refugee. Should’ve stayed back in the earth that was. There’s no cure. In a few months, it’ll be winter, and there’s no food. Feels like half the world is trying to get to Alexandria, as though that’s gonna help. HPI isn’t helping anypony, they’re just looking out for their own. The sea is eating us alive and there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Saul admitted. “But I… believe you. Why are we going north?”

“Ponytown,” Jackie said. “My wife is there now--the plague already passed through, and most of them survived. Maybe something about the weather. But everybody knows you’re immune once you get it. Feels like… maybe a safe place to go.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Saul muttered. “Sounds like a trash name. Too silly for the map.” There was a little more bitterness in his words than was called for. Discouragement maybe, when he heard the word wife.

Jackie laughed. “And that is why we’re going. Back in Alexadria…” she lowered her voice. “Plague didn’t get in, not until… very recently. Your stories were right about that. We had a magic shield, real fancy shit… but just because it could keep out the disease didn’t mean it could keep out thousands of starving ponies. Magical shield crystals tend not to do well when you batter them with rocks.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Jackie slumped against the side of the car. “Anyway, while they’re gorging themselves on what was left of our supplies, killing each other over scraps… we’re going to get the hell away. Ponytown was far enough north that it never grew into a big city. Short growing season, off the beaten path for trade… a perfect place to spend a few hundred years while this all blows over.”

“A few hundred years?”

“Oh,” Jackie shrugged one wing. “Well, yeah. Even you will probably last that long, unless you come down with the plague. Earth ponies are stubborn little fuckers.”

“Nobody I met… told me that…” he muttered, slowing a little as he drove. It was nearly full dark by now, but under the circumstances, Saul kept driving. He might very well drive straight through the night, if he could stay up. Wish I hadn’t ran out of mio…

“Yeah, they probably had other things on their mind. Dying in agony, probably.”

“No,” he shivered. “I never stopped when the people looked sick. I’d just keep right on driving. Most ponies were so scared of my car that they stayed away.”

“I guess I can see that,” Jackie said. “Cars are too hard to maintain. Only the HPI has shit like that, and their asses are fucking scarce.”

The engine was starting to struggle. He recognized the sound, and pulled to the side of the road. “Got to load more wood. Be right back.”

Saul hopped out, hurrying to the open back and climbing up amidst the wood. Something rustled from the front of the car, but he ignored it as he worked, tossing in several fresh logs with his usual strength.

When he was finished, he hurried back to find the front door shut behind him. Jackie was sittiing in his seat, and gestured pointedly around the car. At least she didn’t try to drive it off without me. He was too tired to argue with this pony, too tired to fight. He just walked around the front, and climbed into the passenger seat. There were numerous blankets and pillows where a human might’ve put their legs. This was, after all, where he slept most nights.

“I assume you know how to drive,” he said, looking over at her. “You said ‘Jackie’ not ‘Dark wings’ or something silly, so I guess you’re…”

“Yeah,” Jackie looked a little nervous, pushing one of her legs down on the metal poles. The car jerked forward, its engine protesting at the sudden load. “Like riding a bicycle, right? You never forget.”

“Just so long as you don’t get us killed.” Saul kept one of his hooves near the E-break between their seats, ready to yank at a moment’s notice. But Jackie’s second attempt at driving proved much more successful, and they were soon off again. “How long has it been, anyway?”

“Seven hundred years,” she answered, without a shred of humor. “Thereabouts. Live that long, and things start to fuzz at the ends. Being human was so long ago, I don’t really remember the specifics. I used to, though.”

“You’re shitting me,” he shook his head vigorously. “You look so young! You can’t be thirty.”

“I’m twenty-five,” she answered, a little of her good humor returning. “I’ve just been twenty five for a long time. I’ll be twenty-five forever. Better than being sixteen.” At that, her expression became somber again. “That makes you a little kid, Saul. A little kid who isn’t nocturnal. How about you rest, and I drive. I can put wood into a barrel whenever the engine freaks out. You sleep, and we can switch off when morning comes.”

“You can handle off-roading? These trails suck. Lots of the time I’m just driving overland.” Saul protested, but not vigorously. Truth be told, he was exhausted. Not just because it was dark, and he’d been training himself to rise with the sun. It hurt to have his entire mission crushed like this. Almost he wished he’d continued on, even if only death waited for him in Alexandria. He’d come so far, it seemed a shame to change directions. But what could he do?

“Yeah,” Jackie nodded, focusing on the road again. “I’ll just take it slow at first. It’ll be fine, kid.”

Saul pressed the button on the side of his seat, and it reclined almost flat. He pulled up a blanket, covering most of his body. He doubted he would get much sleep, with as much bumping and rocking around as they would do on these uneven trails. He wanted to try anyway. “You think we’ll make it? To this… Ponytown?”

“Yeah,” Jackie nodded. “No problem. It won’t be the world you left behind. It will be hard, a rough winter probably. But you’ll make it. We all will.”

“Good,” Saul closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he believed this pony, but… what else could he do? If she could keep going for hundreds of years, he could make it through the night. Maybe in the morning this pony would explain what the hell she’d meant by anything.