Viral

by AnchorsAway

Chapter 16: Keep Her Safe

---

The sun had passed its zenith over Canterlot, the bright ball of light dipping behind the mountain as dusk settled over the capitol. Zahara and Rose disembarked the ferris wheel for the fifth time, the filly's exuberance still as strong as when she had first ridden the massive wheel. She was absolutely giddy.

"Did you see the castle from the top?" Rose asked the patient zebra mare, bouncing up and down as they took the stairs down from the loading platform. The two exited the ride, passing the shaggy ferris wheel attendant as he started the contraption once more, its tired gears whining like bugs in the background. "And the Royal Gardens; I saw them. So many colors," the filly uttered with newfound wonder at the things she had seen.

Zahara chuckled, smoothing over the filly's wind-blown mane. "That is wonderful, child. So very observant," she exclaimed with a stroke of Rose's chin. "Maybe we shall go and see the castle one day, little one. Would you like that?"

Rose's eyes lit like fireworks. "Really?" she wondered. "We can visit the castle?"

"If you would like, child. We could go take pictures outside," Zahara answered, the two strolling through the alleys of carnival games and food carts, the smell of caramel apples and greasy, fried food mixing in a sickly sweet aroma. "It was so long ago when I was able to see the castle. I wasn't much older than you are now."

Dazzling lights twinkled in constellations of stars from the carnival tents, their dim shadows painting the cobblestone path beneath their hooves. Carnival-goers screamed thrilling cries from rides, while wild colts and filly tugged at the hooves of weary parents. The air was electrified with fun and excitement.

"I would really like that," Rose said, a smile alighting her face. A thin sheen of sweat from the autumn afternoon faintly covered her rosy, tea-colored cheeks. "Do you think we'll see the Princesses?" she asked. "I've never seen a Princess before, but mom has told me all of their stories."

"I don't know about that, dear child," Zahara admitted. "But you never know," she said. "The Princesses are such busy ponies, young one. Perhaps we can catch a glimpse of their comings and goings."

Rose reached up, a tender hoof clutching the Zebra's foreleg. The evening sun shone brightly in her eyes, the orbs filled with the firey light.

"Is something bothering you, Rose?" Zahara ran a hoof over her forehead, brushing the wild mane from her eyes. "Are you feeling well?"

The filly shook her head, her mane rustling around your shoulders. "I'm just–" A weak smile returned to her face. "I just really happy to be with you," she said softly, holding her tight. "Thank you for taking me on the ferris wheel."

"And I had lots of fun today, too," Zahara grinned. "How's about one more ride before we go home. I'll make us some hot chocolate when we return."

Rose never had to stop and wonder, for they had arrived before the most grandiouse display of lights and colors the filly had probably ever seen.

"What about...that?" She pointed.

Zahara turned before them, the tinkling of some fairy-like melody playing from the ride. Even she could not help but feel some hint of childish excitement. "You mean the merry-go-round?"

She nodded fiercely. "Yes!"

Several minutes later, as they came to the front of the line, Zahara helped Rose up onto the merry-go-round.

"Now, here is the fun part," she told the filly. "You need to choose which beast to ride. Which shall you pick?"

There were many creatures to choose from – some you could find in a zoo, and other more fantastical. There were great bears and foal-sized breezies, birds with outstretched wings and dragons with plaster fire coming from their mouths, fearsome windigos and playfully posed porpuses.

Rose strolled through the still creatures on poles, marveling at how real they looked, as if they might come to life with a touch. She stopped beneath one, a figure of a dog with two-heads rearing up in a pounce. "This one," she breathed, attention fully absorbed by the creature.

"The orthros?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, petting the massive dog figure as if it were a puppy. "Good boy," she cooed.

Zahara had the filly atop the orthros and buckled in as the ride started. Slowly at first, they crawled, the merry-go-round spinning and the creatures rising up and down. The tiny tinkling music reverberated around the brightly colored fabric that covered the top of the ride.

Zahara held onto the filly, Rose gripping the pole in the center tightly. The big dog rose and fell with the music, the mechanical gears and rods hidden beneath their hooves animating the figure so that it lept forward as if it was bounding along with the filly.

Rose let out several excited shrieks, the other little ones, and some parents around them, parroting the cries of enjoyment. Round and round, they flew with the merry-go-round, the ride picking up speed. Lights flashed, and bells chimed, the carnival flying by them as they spun. Off in the distance, the sun dipped below the horizon, the last stream of light washing over the riders in a final farewell.

Zahara released a deep laugh, caught in the commotion of lights and sound, the cries of the young foals, the screams of the parents, the yells of...something else?

She turned around, Zahara trying to trace the strange sound she heard mixed with the music of the merry-go-round. Where was it coming from? Something about it struck a nerve in her, and she searched around them for the source.

The carnival grounds were flying by around them, little Rose oblivious to whatever was drawing the zebra's attention.

Zahara spotted something in the crowd, but it was quickly lost as they passed it. She had to wait until they made another round for Zahara to spot the congregation of ponies surrounding something. She could feel it. Something wasn't right. A sour sickness was rising from her stomach, though she knew not why.

Like an infection, whatever unnerve Zahara had initially sensed was spreading through the ponies. Slowly, the commotion of the merry-go-round riders subsided as if they were dying fires, extinguishing themselves one by one. Even Rose could feel it. Her guardian's grip tightened around her.

Over only the sound of the merry-go-rounds melody, they could hear the isolated screams of the ponies nearby.

It was on the fifth trip time around that Zahara finally saw the figure lying on the ground.

And it was only when the ride attendant hit the emergency stop, and the park managers quickly ushered the carnival-goers to the exits, did she see the pool of blood surrounding the pony on the ground.

---

“Come on,” Celestia bristled. “Somepony, anypony, give me something. Are you telling me we don’t have a single open line to the Captain and his team?”

Nopony answered, furiously clacking away at their terminals.

It was on when Brass Buckle stepped in, did Celestia finally settle down. “Start checking other frequencies, civilian too,” he told the communications technician. “The mountain might be distorting the signal and causing it to bleed over to other frequencies. And scan over the capitol’s security feeds while you're at it.”

“This can’t be happening,” Celestia groaned, massaging her pounding temples. “Why are we always clueless to what's happening?”

“T’will be OK,” Luna assured her sister, pulling her close and wrapping a comforting hoof around her, gently stroking the mane that rippled and flowed.

“You said the same thing about Ponyville,” she grumbled, burying her head in her sister.

Nearby, Professor Lakeshore and Romulus sat waiting for news from the raid team. The connection had left an uncomfortable hush over the room. Everypony was whispering. Why were they were whispering, wondered Lakeshore?

“I never did get to thank you,” Lakeshore leaned closer to Romulus, the baggy-eyed bat pony returning a confused look.

“Thank me?” he asked. “For what?” His tired eyes searched the Professor.

“For your help. Trying to remember what happened in the jungle. It couldn’t have been easy, resurfacing all those memories.”

“I owed you as much at least." Romulus rolled a shoulder, massaging the muscle. "I know you want your answers, I just wish I had them for you."

The Professor rubbed the tips of his hooves together nervously. “Did you–” he gulped, his sagging jawline trembling. “Did you see her while you were in there? While you were in your memories? Harvest?”

Romulus slowly shook his head, a somber silhouette passing over his long sleepy face.

“Probably for the best,” the Professor admitted. "So this thing, this virus, you saw it? What it does?"

The bat pony gave a single sharp nod.

"And if it were inadvertently exposed to somepony? How bad are we talking about?"

"I'm sure the Princesses and their guards will make sure that doesn't happen."

"But if it did..."

“I...I think I have something.” a technician interrupted, the screen of his terminal reflecting in his glasses. “I’m not sure, to be honest; it might be nothing.”

“What have you got?” Brass stepped over. "Speak your piece."

“Is it the Captain?” Celestia wondered, peeling herself off of Luna and trotting over.

“No, it's something on the phone network," the tech replied. "Emergency dispatch is picking up a high volume of calls in Old Town by the subway station. Some sort of disturbance."

---

Zahara and Rose walked quickly down the sidewalk as a line of police cruisers sped by, lights and sirens on. The shrill wail of an ambulance following close behind echoed through the district. The zebra held onto Rose tighter, the two moving with the hushed crowd away from the carnival and into the surrounding blocks.

She picked up her pace, pulling Rose along. It had all happened so quick, the ride stopping abruptly, the smaller foals crying, the worried prattling of the parents, the security ponies directing everypony out of the park. And the pony lying in the pool of blood.

Zahara had tried to keep Rose from seeing the gruesome sight as she led them to the exits, but from the filly's shivering, Zahara knew she hadn't been fast enough.

"What happened to that pony?" she finally spoke as they trotted toward the orphanage. Her voice cracked, her words confused. "Zahara, what was wrong with him?"

Another line of police and emergency vehicles flew by, Zahara weaving through the ponies clogging the sidewalk. The uneasy feeling was no longer a small gnaw on her nerves, but a barely contained panic. "I do not know, little one. Let us hurry along now," she chided, pulling Rose closer. "Whoever is up there," she whispered, "I ask you watch over us." She wasn't sure why, but something was telling her to run.

The two came to an intersection, the crosswalk light warning them to stop. Next to them, others were following. Whatever had Zahara worried, everypony else could feel it, too. They stopped at the crosswalk, waiting patiently for the signal as they stepped from hoof to hoof, a low murmur of whispered words passing between each other.

Above them, the signal changed, and Zahara cautiously led Rose across the empty intersection, the other ponies filtering by. "I'm sure it is nothing, Rose," she assured the filly. "Everything will be alright."

Out of nowhere, a green truck came flying over the hill, barely missing a parked car. Its motor screamed with a roar as it flew down the asphalt, tires screeching like bats.

Zahara barely had time to pull Rose out of the crosswalk on the other side before the truck barreled blindly through the intersection and crashed into a brick wall of somepony's back yard. The vehicle came to an abrupt stop in a shower of dust and flying mortar, the horn blaring continuously from the wreckage of the truck.

“By the Sun and Moon,” uttered Zahara. She pushed Rose against a shop, the filly wide-eyed at the truck that had brushed her coat it had passed so close.

“Stay here and don’t move,” Zahara instructed her. “I’ll be right back.” She turned and galloped over to the wrecked truck.

Already, several bystanders were standing about, unsure of what to do.

Zahara hurried past them and up to the driver seat. The door to the cab was severely damaged with the window broken out. Glass and pulverized brick littered the ground that crunched under her hooves. Inside the cab, a pony lay slumped against the wheel, his weight pressing down the horn.

She pried the crushed door open, it falling with a clatter on the concrete. Reaching inside, she pulled the stallion back, propping him up in his seat. She could feel something warm on his hooves. The zebra probed the far side of the injured stallion’s neck and immediately recoiled.

Warm, red blood covered her hoof.

Gasping, the driver jerked awake in his seat.

“It’s OK. Be still,” Zahara tried to calm him down, holding him still. “You were in a wreck. Let me help you. You're bleeding.”

“No.” gasped the driver with ragged breath, weakly shaking her off. “They're coming.” His eyes were wild, and he gasped for breath. The driver of the wreck twitched and shifted in his seat, exposing the serrated laceration on his neck. Already his shoulder and right side were covered crimson from the wound.

Zahara pulled the bonnet from her mane with a flourish, pressing it on the driver’s neck, staunching the flow. “Just relax. Help is coming,” said Zahara, trying to calm the frightened driver. She turned to the ponies who had surrounded the scene. “Has anyone called 911 yet?” she called out. "He is losing a lot of blood."

“I’ve been trying,” replied a mare on a mobile device. “I keep getting some automated message saying all lines are busy.”

"Same here," called another. "I can't reach my sister, either."

“Keep trying,” instructed Zahara. She looked to see if Rose was alright, seeing the filly had moved to the edge of the crowd. “Stay there, child. Do not come any closer.” She didn’t want her to see how badly the driver was hurt.

Zahara refocused her attention back to the driver. The pony began to grunt and squirm in his seat. “You don’t understand,” he croaked, gulping for breath. “You have to leave.”

“Try to relax,” she repeated, coaxing him to remain still with a firm hoof. “I’ll stay with you till emergency services come. We have to keep you from bleeding out,” she explained.

“Get away!” growled the stallion, pulling Zahara’s hoof from his neck.

He pushed her from the cab, knocking her into the street, gathering several gasps from the bystanders. “They're coming!” he hissed at the crowd through gritted teeth as he hung halfway out the cab of the truck. The wound on the side of the driver’s neck had stopped bleeding, the skin around it a pastel grey. He was hyperventilating, and his eyes were bloodshot, the tiny capillaries bursting and turning the whites red.

The crowd flinched, taken a step back at the sudden outburst. Zahara had regained her footing, standing between the herd and the stallion. “You are not making sense,” she told him. “Please, let me help you. You are badly hurt and are not thinking clearly. What is coming?”

“The ones who did this.” He pointed to the wound on his neck. "They came from the subway." He eased himself out the cab of the wrecked truck and took a step toward Zahara. There came a sickening crunch, and he collapsed onto the hard asphalt. A pony from the crowd took a step forward to help the driver.

“Get back!” he cried out. “Don’t come any closer. I’ve seen what happens to those who have been bitten.” The driver cried in agony, the hair falling from his body. The crowd took another collective step back.

“What’s coming?” repeated Zahara, this time more forcefully. Rose was once again glued to her side.

“I don’t know,” cried the driver in an anguish guttural groan. His hair was almost completely gone, the skin underneath a shiny black. He spotted the little filly by her side with his bloodied eyes. “You’re that mare? From the orphanage down in the Garden District?” he asked between gasps of breath. Zahara did not respond, standing between him and Rose. “If you care about her, and you want to keep her safe, you’ll get out of the city. All of you!”

“And go where?" Zahara was backing away from the driver, Rose in tow.

“As far away from Canterlot as possible.” The injured driver was hit with a spasm that coursed through his entire body. "And don't look back."

With a cry from the crowd, a small black horn sprouted from the driver's head as he let out an agonizing scream, his teeth clattering to the pavement to reveal rows of razor-sharp fangs. Two leathery wings, like that of a bat, erupted from his back as ponies turned to run. Zahara was petrified, Rose still by her side as they witnessed the gruesome transformation.

The creature that had once been the driver looked up, bright, solid-blue eyes fixed on a mare from the crowd, who was one of the last to flee. The creature lunged, his target locked, striking the pony and sinking its teeth into her neck with a bestial roar. They rolled on the ground, the driver tearing out the mare’s windpipe, showering the bystanders.

"Zahara!" Rose erupted.

Everything dissolved into a pandemonium stampede. Zahara scooped Rose onto her back and took off down the street, her bloody bonnet left in the street.

Rose screamed and cried profusely, but Zahara could still hear the agonizing howls from the mare through the hole in her neck. Ponies shoved and pushed their way away from the intersection, trampling those unfortunate enough to fall under their hooves.

From out the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of black from a neighboring rooftop.

Another black creature tackled a fleeing pony, pulling him to the ground. Zahara continued on, trying to block out his cries begging for help before worse cries replaced them. Anguished cried. She could only focus on the sidewalk in front of them, exerting herself and breathing heavily to run faster. Rose clutched her neck, her tears staining the zebra's coat. They rushed past others, all running away from the direction of the wreck.

They ran by another mare in the middle of the street. The mare was calling to the fleeing passers-by for help as she knelt in a growing pool of blood over a stallion. She wept and tried to stop the blood flow from a wound on his neck.

The voice from so long ago that Zahara had known was calling to her from deep within. What had once been a quiet whisper, barely calling from afar, was a raging wildfire burning within her. The voice that had instructed her to leave her hut before the mountain erupted as a filly, ultimately saving her life, had returned with a new command.

Run, the voice told her. Run, Zahara. Run all the way home and don’t stop for anypony. You can’t help them. The filly must be kept safe.

She ran through the next intersection, narrowly missing being hit by a speeding car. The car showed no sign of slowing down, charging blindly through the terrified stampede and running over those unable to get out the way. Cries of the wounded were met with deaf ears as the crowd charged on in a panic. Fires and smoke erupted from several buildings, an explosion from the other block pelting the ponies with grit.

Keep the filly safe. You must keep her safe, Zahara, as I kept you safe. She is a special girl.

Zahara tried her best to push out all the screams and the pleas and the cries for help as she listened to the voice humming inside her. They were still several blocks away from the orphanage, and the stampede was only growing, ponies falling underhoof, or worse, ambushed by the twisted creatures that became more numerous with each minute.

Do not fret, Zahara. Just focus on keeping the girl safe. I am with you. I am sending help.

Comments

[Clawfoot]

10025948
Except the holes, and a major upgrade in aggression. Loving this intrigue. ^^

[AnchorsAway]

10026650
Just remember that it's not all they are capable of. They're called changelings for a reason after all.