The Infernal Line, Chapter 3: Scavenger Hunt, Part 2
With a brief meeting regarding the setup of a forge in the cave designated for it over, Zip retired to the “comm room”. They were ready. All the platoon needed was to gather wood, create an accelerant, and wait for the supplies to show up.
Without giving any real reason, he’d instructed his platoon he was not to be bothered. By this time, with all that was going on, he wasn’t grilled on the issue. They knew he’d held private audiences with their leaders before, if that's what he was up to.
Despite his stomach churning over what he was about to begin doing, he munched on part of a fresh apple. The platoon had reached the last of the fresh fruit, and instead of drying it—they’d dried so many foods found on their excursions into the mountainside—they’d divvied up what was left, allowing them the pleasure of eating something besides stew. The apple—the third of one, really—was going a bit soft, but it still tasted pretty good.
Staring down the row of bags in the corner, Zip focused on Amethyst’s. What Gen. Fiddler Dream had said didn’t fall on deaf ears, and the lieutenant had resolved to do something he should’ve done in his first couple weeks of being a platoon leader.
Swallowing the last of the apple and washing it down with some rainwater out of his canteen, Zip figured he’d just start; he reached for Amethyst’s several bags and pulled them out. It still confused him that she’d just leave them lying around, but who would dare violate them? Zip knew he was the only one.
The first of the three carriers were full of plain files, the kind he’d had ready access to, if he’d better done his job. Among them were the replacements’ files, including Pvt. Mercury Rise’s well-read joke of a file. Others visible were Sgt. Sweet Clover’s, Sgt. Treasure Trove’s, and Spc. Trip Wire’s. He even saw Jacinta’s in the second bag, which contained files of the same restriction level. Rifling through, they were nearly all there, including his own.
Zip thought back a good bit. He’d had a private for one day. For some reason, Pvt. Mill’s was there and so was Sgt. Sagebrush Trail’s, whom Zip had never even met face-to-face. It made more sense that Spc. Birch's file was there, considering his prominence before reassignment.
The ones not included were the three stallions from 3rd Squad that Jacinta had sent packing. Zip had never even followed up on them… All he knew was the one Jacinta had crippled the worst was evacuated along with all the other ponies at the hospital. Really, he hadn’t cared to look into it past that.
He suspected Amethyst hadn’t bothered with their files because Zip had never known them. Or maybe she just didn’t have them. Maybe their existence had no meaning to anything going on… What he did know was that Jacinta’s reputation as a powerful mare was solidified in her wiping the floor with those elite soldiers, and that each situation had nearly pushed her to a panic attack (an issue he’d probably see more about once he cracked her file).
Was it intentional? Did Amethyst have a plan? Who knew?
Yup… 50… There were 50 files pertaining to his platoon…
All but seven outstanding were there, and it wasn’t difficult to figure out what the last bag might contain.
Opening the last bag, he immediately saw some files labeled SECRET glaring at him; he read the first cover:
Pvt. Lily Hawk…
Seeing hers inside wasn’t much of a bombshell to Zip. Gen. Fiddler Dream had told him—just hours before—that Lily had taken a plea deal, joining the army to avoid prison… for accidentally killing a foal, while she was very possibly impaired. The only odd thing to him was her rank; he surmised she hadn’t been around long, and it was odd to see some enlisted pony reach noncom status so quickly. Then again, how many strange things occurred in and around their little platoon?
Going through, Zip saw more with the same label:
Spc. Raspberry Jam… Spc. Aster Yellows…
Those two names surprised him a little and not because they were both currently corporals. Both of them were… pretty normal. He shuffled the files:
Sgt. Little Song…?!
Zip gasped.
Little Song was once a sergeant?! What happened?!
But he took a breath and continued. Moving those four files aside, Zip saw something that undoubtably got his attention; the words TOP-SECRET were printed across the next ones. There were three files labeled as such, and the first one showed the following:
Cpl. Razor Wire…
Zip felt his lower-trunk ache, wondering what was inside. He felt the same at the subsequent:
Spc. Shive Hemp…
Zip realized he’d never even bothered to learn Spc. Hemp’s first name… or that he even had more to his name, but he’d never bothered with a lot of things, he was learning. He thought of the specialist, and he wondered what story all his scars told. He shuddered, knowing all his combat veterans had some personal accounts he’d never bothered to investigate.
And there was one more alongside those two. And Zip’s blood ran cold when he saw it, but he’d known it was probably somewhere. Nestled at the bottom of the stack was a file held shut by a mesh of tamper-proof wire; he could get in… but he wouldn’t be able to re-seal it. He knew such a seal when he came across it; it wasn’t original and was obviously to simply close it. Zip recalled that… Lily had looked at this file, taking a liberty that was never hers to take, when she’d had the opportunity to see it.
It showed a familiar name with a title he’d only heard, and it was the same mare who'd put on the new seal:
CW4 (Chief Warrant Officer 4) Amethyst Flare…
The lieutenant realized—in his heart—he had the real thing in his hooves. Inside… were all the things known and recorded that Amethyst was so afraid of him learning about… among others.
Zip almost lost his dinner, just feeling the gravity of what he held. But he managed to calm down.
He considered the time and found it to be 19:38. He had all the time he’d need. Steeling himself, he put aside Amethyst’s file and went back to the first bag.
Again, he had all night to look.
A bit later that night—around 20:00, Amethyst, leading her crew of Cpl. Stardust Painter, Spc. Hemp, and Pvt. Rise, continued making her way through the underbelly of Port City.
Port City had an excellent utilities underground. Built in the very heart of a river delta, the sewer had been designed and built to deal with incredible amounts of water. Even in the absence of ponies maintaining it—not to mention the damaged city above funneling all manner of muck imaginable down, down, down—it wasn’t flooded or otherwise inundated.
While the outskirts of the city’s plumbing mainly saw industrial waste, they’d made it to the heart of the city, rife with restaurants, bars, apartments, and even a few hotels. Despite the late autumn weather, things stayed warmer in the sewer, and even with a near-constant deluge of water flushing its contents into various waste pipes, a little of everything stuck to the walls and floated with the current. And boy, did it ever stink.
“BLORP!!” Mercury, after gagging almost nonstop since after the armory, saw all he had for chow come flying out of his mouth. “KOFF! GLOOOOOOOP! BUHBULUUUUUUUPH!”
Amethyst pounded on his back with understanding, watching the young stallion’s projectile-boot join the rest of the magic surrounding them; the sewer was foul. The Devil’s mixture of rotting food, garbage, shit, and every kind of filth conceivable produced a ripe perfume that took the breath away, and it sent even the strongest stomachs packing.
They were standing knee-deep in all of this… and thankfully they’d not yet had to go swimming.
Mercury wasn’t done; his vomit splattered into some unknown substance floating on the surface of the “water” with a healthy splort, “HUUUURGGEHH!”
The other two stallions reeled at the sight of the private yacking. Neither was particularly squeamish about seeing a pony puke, but combined with everything else reeking up the air, it almost had them going. It was a close call.
What they almost immediately saw, though, nearly pushed them over the edge.
The puddle of sick, nestled in the aforementioned material, drifted past, appearing as stew in a bowl… and they’d eaten plenty of awful stew in the last week. Cpl. Painter shut his eyes, and Spc. Hemp groaned.
Mercury coughed, tears of exertion in his eyes, “I’m sorry, everypony…”
Yes, he was sorry, but he wasn’t embarrassed. It was one thing everypony admired in Mercury. He was about as perfect a specimen of a soldier that most ponies could imagine, but even he knew nopony was perfect. In fact, he knew it especially.
Amethyst—not overly disgusted, due to her years and years of doing Equestria’s dirtiest work—continued to massage his back, “It’s alright, Mercury… I’m surprised the other two aren’t making moose-calls, too…”
Mercury laughed, continuing to hack, at Amethyst’s amused tone; she really was quite a mare.
“I’ve been in worse places,” Cpl. Painter muttered, slightly green behind the gills. “S’not like it’s any consolation… There’s probably bacteria and diseases not known to ponykind swimming around…”
Specialist Hemp felt similarly, his nasal passages burning, “Well, I’ve never smelled anything quite like this…”
“Actually, this is a remarkably clean sewer,” Amethyst simpered.
“Really?” Mercury spit, snot-streamers hanging from his lips.
She smirked, “Yes… but it’s still pretty nasty down here.”
One might think—by now—that Amethyst was questioning her decision to bring Mercury along, but she wasn’t, really. She’d thought of bringing another unicorn instead, but she’d settled on Mercury.
She’d certainly not expected them to run into trouble or play in raw sewage… and that was why she’d brought him. He’d never been out on a maneuver in his current position, and she wanted to see how he handled himself; she’d been impressed, and she chalked his getting sick up to his inexperience. It could be expected most of the ponies in the platoon would be barfing their guts out.
Amethyst didn’t expect trouble, but she still wanted to see Mercury on the mission. After a few months of having him in her squad, she still knew jack-shit about him, other than what was readily observable. She hoped having him out there would present her a new vision of him… give her an opportunity to see something more of what he might’ve been, but she wasn’t so sure.
Still, Mercury—the dormant super-soldier—had never complained, had done everything asked of him, and had gone above-and-beyond in all things, at that.
Yup… maybe he is just a normal kid… Amethyst mused, knowing she would be fooling herself to believe such a thing.
And she recalled her words to Zip, the night she told him Mercury had both broken out in and fought off horse-herpes in the same 24-hour period, and decided she still felt the same way: she hoped they’d never be in a situation to see what he was actually capable of.
She had no idea what might “set him off” or “awaken” him… or if he’d still be the same stallion the platoon loved so dearly… the stallion that had nearly every mare to ever meet him creaming…
What concerned her more were Cpl. Painter’s hemophobia and whatever was going on with Spc. Hemp—something she’d made a point to avoid learning about.
She’d brought them because they were the best soldiers she’d had available to her… and because Cpl. Painter was a Helluva magical unicorn… and because Zip refused to let her take Sgt. Wire.
But the sergeant realized she was letting her mind wander; they had to move, “C’mon, Private… We need to move on.”
She patted Mercury’s shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
She clapped his back good-naturedly, “You at least feel a little better?”
He smiled, wiping his mouth on the shoulder of his uniform, as not to use his hoof, “If it didn’t smell so awful, I might be hungry again…”
The other three, caught off guard by one of Mercury’s occasional humorous declarations, laughed.
Knowing they could be in far worse company, the four ponies moved north. They were about to pass under a bar they’d very much enjoyed, and they were roughly halfway to the bank.
Somepony had left a pocket-watch—perhaps intentionally—in the communications area. Zip’s eyes drifted to it every so often. It wasn’t his own distasteful task, but Amethyst’s that had him concerned. He had no idea just what she and the three others were up to—or how much time it would take them—but he just couldn’t take his eyes off the timepiece for long.
It was 21:15. And he’d made his way through some of the “unclassified” files.
Except for a few of the files he’d never really bothered to look at, there wasn’t a whole lot there to surprise him.
He’d always wondered why Trip wound up in a place like Port… Turns out, she’d volunteered to come out… when her brother was to be sent there. This was a short time before their father—the corporal Zip had barely known back at the Dragonlands Outpost—was injured in the attack against which Zip led his retaliation.
It would’ve actually surprised him if she’d been sent there because of something she did wrong. What he did wonder about was if she knew why her brother had been transferred there. Even Zip didn’t know that, and it was unlikely few—or any—of the ponies in the platoon knew… Amethyst might’ve known, and he wouldn’t put it past her, but something told him she didn’t know.
It was unlikely the other veterans of “actual” combat knew, either; as close as they were—and as much as they seemed to love and trust one another—Zip was quite sure they didn’t share such things. So, Zip figured he might be the first in the platoon to know, once he finally cracked open the Top-Secret files.
Having learned the reason why he was sent to Port City, Zip wouldn’t have expected Cpl. Painter’s file to be classified, and he’d read it, of course, weeks back. There wasn’t anything new to take in the second read-through: Cpl. Painter was an elite soldier with a clean record (as far as the file suggested), and he was simply dismissed from his role in active combat when his fear of blood suddenly developed.
Zip still remembered the good humor and cheer with which he’d addressed his condition, having given himself that nasty concussion the day Spc. Birch—then a private—had his leg broken when that dock-lift failed. That day had messed up a few ponies; Zip still recalled how upset Trip had been and how he’d first learned of Jacinta’s occasional bouts with anxiety.
Speaking of Jacinta, he’d only ever glanced over her file, despite him saying otherwise; he’d taken Amethyst’s word on much of it. Thanks to his scanning through the one time, he’d missed the fact she’d had panic attacks as a teenager, not to mention the nervous breakdown she’d suffered at the age of 17. It was Lily that had shared that unpleasant bit of information with him… in her attempt to “wake him up”. And then he’d been told by Gen. Dream to be careful around Lily… or at least that he needed to know what she was, for his own good.
But there wasn’t anything startling about Jacinta’s file… There was something embarrassing in the psychiatric portion of the file, perhaps, in that she was mortified when they’d asked her if she was a virgin at 19, and she hated even more having to answer them truthfully. The terms “mortified” and “hated” were underlined several times by whomever had analyzed her, as if to show her humiliation. It sounded like her… and he could almost see her beautiful face, red as a cherry over it.
Zip couldn’t help but smirk… That “V-card” was his… but she also had his. It had him blushing himself, and he could feel a boner popping up in his uniform. Ashamed of himself for thinking of nookie with the mare he loved at a time like this, he coaxed it away by refocusing on his reading.
Yes, there wasn’t much to say besides her upset experienced when she’d destroyed those three stallions in 3rd Squad, days before he came to command. The fact she’d nearly had a panic attack the day Spc. Birch was injured wasn’t even in the file; it had never been reported. She was excellent at her old job, well-liked in her field of relief efforts, and was simply sent to fill a hole as a staff sergeant for a platoon in Port City.
There wasn’t much to say about Sgt. Clover or Sgt. Trove. Sgt. Clover had chosen—given a couple choices—to move out west because he had family in the area; Zip wondered if he regretted that…
And then, similar to Jacinta, Sgt. Trove had been sent to fill a hole. Zip had known, but he never thought about the fact Sgt. Trove had been the only pony with combat experience—besides Amethyst—to not be in 3rd Squad of Jacinta’s original platoon arrangement. He was put in charge of the engineers because it was his area of expertise.
Well, he was the only one still in the platoon with that distinction. Pvt. Mill—once a staff sergeant himself as Jacinta was—was discharged the second day Zip was on the job, and he’d served with Sgt. Trove in the north. Zip knew things had been miserable for them, but there was nothing in Sgt. Trove's psychiatric portion to worry him.
Setting aside Sgt. Trove’s file, Zip leaned back against a rock for a time. His neck hurt from stooping, but he wouldn’t rest long. He still had a fair stack to go through, and that didn’t even include the more classified material he had waiting for him.
Groaning, Zip cracked his neck and got back to it. Up next was Pvt. Poplar Shade… Little Song’s instrumentation technician…
Zip barely knew a thing about the little weasel, other than he was pretty good at his job, and he was known to cheat at cards.
Zip exhaled, and he figured he’d learn a little more.
“Is this mud…? Or is it shit? I can’t even tell…” Cpl. Painter complained, up to his belly in something.
“It’s just mud, Corporal…” Amethyst struggled through the stuff, still leading the stallions. “I’m guessing a wall in one of the sewer’s big corridors was broken during the demolition… There’s probably a sinkhole in the city, and this is what happened to the clay underneath it…”
Mercury, currently in the rear, was having an easy time compared to the others; the only reason he was moving so slowly was that he was keeping pace with them, “So it just poured in… Most unfortunate for us…”
Specialist Hemp kept checking his watch; normally pretty cool in any situation, he was understanding their plight, and he was worried, “21:40… It’s taken us an hour-and-a-half to go less than a half-mile…! And it’s what, another quarter-mile to the door under the bank?”
Amethyst was in a mood, “If the door’s even attainable… I can’t see much…”
Corporal Painter gasped, “Can’t we just use magic?”
“You keep asking that!”, the sergeant stubbornly shook her head. “No! We’re not risking it until we can take a look at the integrity of our surroundings! What I wouldn’t give for an engineer, right about now…”
Mercury could read the prevailing air: they were pissed and exhausted, but it wasn’t exactly difficult to tell. He knew they’d already hoped to be well on their way back to the armory; the mud had easily added an hour to their trip, and it would be the same going back.
The private, careful to try to put them at ease, had been paying attention, and he knew Spc. Hemp wasn’t accounting for all the ground they’d covered; he said, “We hit the mud a few hundred yards after I got sick… That means… Hold up!”
They stopped and were at once thankful to cease their slogging… but it wasn’t exactly easy to start again.
“What is it, Mercury?” Spc. Hemp was in front of the private.
They’d just been creeping along; so worn out, they might’ve missed their destination if somepony hadn’t been paying better attention than the others.
“Look,” Mercury pointed to the wall, shown by the glow of the unicorns' horns.
Amethyst glowed, she was so relieved, “Lot H-17! Hame Street! That means…!”
They’d reached the point where Trace Street became Hame Street. It meant Lot H-22—their destination—was only three lots away! Sure enough, they looked to the opposite side of the sewer and saw the markings for Lot H-18.
“The bank’s H-20!” Amethyst blew out a breath. “We’re almost there!”
And they were. With renewed spirits, they had a better time going the next couple hundred feet.
“Nice…” Spc. Hemp said without a hint of sarcasm.
It could’ve been worse. The door they were looking for was higher than the level of the mud and was dry; it wasn’t welded shut, but it was bolted.
Amethyst was glad, “Okay… Let’s take a moment to check around… Corporal… check the seal.”
“Ma’am,” Cpl. Painter examined the seal surrounding the door, while the rest of them checked the ceiling and walls.
Everything looked stable.
“Do you think you could do the bolts?” Amethyst asked the corporal.
“Yes, ma’am…” he answered. “Specialist, Private… best get behind her.”
The two Earth ponies moved behind Amethyst. It was probably safe to open the access-door, but they knew there was possibly about 25 tons of slime being held back, and it wouldn’t be easy to deal with if it just glooped out… or blew out under the weight of the clay behind it.
“Shield up, Sarge…” Cpl. Painter advised.
“Right…” Amethyst put up a barrier. “Be ready to do the same.”
He’d already conjured one, “Of course… Here goes…”
Bolt by bolt, he began to loosen them; he went a half-turn at a time for each bolt, moving around the perimeter of the door.
With bated breath, the others watched.
About halfway through loosening the bolts, mud began to seep out; the seal had been broken.
“How’s the pressure?” Amethyst asked.
The corporal kept up the "lefty-loosey action", not stopping, but he slowed down, “Manageable, Sarge… There’s a lot of stuff, but we should be good.”
It was a great relief to see the door gingerly pulled away from its place than to see it fly off with hundreds of cubic-feet of mud driving it.
They were greeted by an oozing—but otherwise unspoiled—wall of clay.
Amethyst grinned, “As much as I’d love to just yank it all out of there, we need to ease it along.”
“Right…” Cpl. Painter nodded.
The mare turned to the Earth ponies, “You two take a breather…”
“Yes, ma’am…” Spc. Hemp sank to his rump in the mud; he didn’t’ care.
“Water?” Mercury, who was still far better off than his friends, offered a canteen to the filthy pony.
“Thanks…” the specialist gratefully took it and had a nice drink.
There wasn’t anything the two stallions could do. The unicorns had to do this.
But it wasn’t terrible. Magically scooping out a cubic-foot at a time, they were done in about 20 minutes, making sure to take the time to press clay into the sides of their little tunnel, reinforcing it.
Following the directions supplied to them, they had little trouble finding the access-door to the actual vault. The tunnel was big enough that Amethyst and Cpl. Painter could stand two abreast.
“Wow…” Cpl. Painter murmured.
“Yes… Wow…” Amethyst agreed.
On the other side of this door was a stash of precious metal more valuable than the whole of Port City. Still bolted around its entirety, this door had hinges; they wouldn’t need to remove it from the tunnel.
“Best let me do this,” Cpl. Painter offered.
Amethyst was already on the way out; she looked back with a smirk, “Don’t go in there without us, okay?”
He chuckled, “Yes, ma’am…”
The corporal had volunteered to do this for the same reason he’d had the others shield themselves: they didn’t know what was behind the door, exactly, and Amethyst's life was worth more than his.
But while Amethyst roused the other two, Cpl. Painter had little trouble with the door. He had no trouble breaking the seal, and he found it was dry as a bone inside.
Still, he didn’t enter; he called back, “Okay… it’s safe…”
Well, he hoped it was safe.
The three came up to join him.
Corporal Painter didn’t use magic; he pried the heavy steel door open with his hooves, “Uuuuuurrgh!”
The door swung open, and he peered in, his horn lit. As no monster jumped out to eat them, he entered.
As Amethyst followed, she sent out an orb of light to join the one the corporal was conjuring. Spc. Hemp and Mercury came in.
Under the magical light, a sight none of them would ever forget greeted them.
Gold… Gems… Silver…
“I can’t believe this…” Amethyst squeaked.
Where was this shit when she was dirt-poor in a Canterlot gutter?!
Gold bars, gold nuggets silver bars, silver nuggets, diamonds, rubies, sapphires, pearls, gold statues, silver statues, gold and silver statues, silverware, crowns, tiaras, diadems, scepters (why, as hooves can’t hold them?), chalices, coins, chess sets, gold and silver-plated weapons of all sorts, figures, figurines…
Hell, there was even a gold toilet.
They saw all that and much more, as far as their eyes could make out. Amethyst increased the intensity of her light-orb.
And they could see the entire room… The dimensions of the room were 12 feet high, 50 feet wide, and 115 feet long… and it was filled with treasure to the ceiling!
“Goddamn!” Cpl. Painter gushed. “Can this be real? Can this much gold even exist?”
“I guess so, Corporal…” Specialist Hemp hooted, the visceral grin on his face now easily overpowering the disbelief he’d had pasted on. “How about that…?”
“Holy fuckin’ shit…!” Cpl. Painter puffed out, his eyes wide.
Amethyst could only nod, dumbfounded, and it took a lot to dumbfound her, “Yeah… You can say that again…”
They stood in awe for a good 10 seconds.
Of all the ponies, the “kid” among them was the one to break up the adulation; Mercury nosed the other three, “Well, let’s get going. We’ve got only so much time, and we’re already utterly behind. Got the scale, Sarge?”
Amethyst blinked; he’d questioned her, after all, “Oh… yes, Mercury…”
Corporal Painter shook off his own astonishment, “Again, what do we need?”
“We need approximately 19 pounds of gold…” Amethyst consulted the list. “Let’s go for 25. And 32 pounds of silver; we can fudge it a little and collect 40.”
“Good thinking, ma’am…” Mercury was already looking for bars of both; it didn’t hurt to have extra, considering none of the ponies in the platoon had ever forged magical-conductive stakes.
Specialist Hemp sighed, hoofing a sack of silver nuggets, “Well, I tell you, everypony… If we live to see spring… I’m coming back here with a few wagons.”
“And I won’t stop you, Specialist,” Amethyst was following Mercury’s example, picking up a gold bar. “Let’s just get what we came for. If I catch any of you pocketing more, I’ll tell Jacinta.”
The stallions—even Mercury—chuckled. It was meant as a half-joke, but that’s what it was… a half-joke; it was half-serious.
Amethyst let a little smile show, “I may come back here myself, someday…”
The four had a laugh, and they commenced their work.
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Boo.
Another buildup chapter. I want blood and feces! 
9968157
Well, you got the latter, right?
But yeah, some more bllod would be nice.
But hey, next chapter or the one after that we might get some more blood.
Get your 2rings of Baumkuchen, 2Muffins and a cupcake. Oh and of course hot coffee, cocoa or whatever hot baverage you like( even hot beer or something)
Thanks for your hard work and the new chapter!
9968157
9968196
Yes, the ponies were up to their knees in the latter. Patience... Something action-y will happen soon.
9968259
sounds okish I think.