Viral

by AnchorsAway

Chapter 20: When We Meet Fate

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Like a wounded bird, the airship was falling gracefully out of the sky. Her nose dipped further down, the skin of the gunship erupting in flames as explosions tore through its body. The skin peeled back, the fire blossoming throughout the ribs of the dead beast as it gave one final groan and withered and burned atop the city block.

Celestia turned to look away from the destruction on the monitor. Professor Lakeshore sank down in a chair, his strength leaving him. Princess Luna glanced nervously over at Brass Buckle.

"The Wonderbolts…" was all she asked.

Brass, his face lit deep auburn by the flames on the control center monitor, checked his panel. "It — looks — appears less than fifteen percent are left, your Highness."

"Tell the Tiberius and those remaining to pull back. Any longer, and we may not have any survivors." She wasn't prepared to lose any more.

Nodding, he picked up a headset. "Gunship Tiberius and all remaining Wonderbolts fall back. I repeat, fall back to base." Brass watched for a response on the video feed. But instead, the Tiberius turned south, the airship moving away from the city.

"What in Tartarus," he snarled, snatching up the headset once more. "Gunship Tiberius divert course. I repeat, divert course and return back to base." There came no reply from the radio. "No."

"What is it? What's going on?" questioned Romulus, worried.

"He's deserting!" Brass howled in a rage, several staff jumping away from the outburst. "Gunship Tiberius, this is the Commander Brass Buckle of the Equestrian Armed Forces! You are to divert back to base immediately!" he shouted again. Still, there came no reply, and no sign the airship was altering course. "Stars!" Brass hurled the headset across the comms room. "Bloody coward."

"Now is not the time, Brass," chastised Celestia. "We shall deal with this later. For now, we need to focus our attention on evacuating the city. What is the status of the ground forces?"

Brass sighed and regained his composure, adjusting his mane, though it was too short to be out of place. "They are holding a line just to the west, but they have suffered serious blows from the infected. Once the infected break through, and I mean when they shortly break through," he reiterated, "the castle is directly in their path."

"Then we haven't much time," Celestia warned them, taking the reins in an uncommon display. "We have the ground forces to buy the citizens some time to get out the city," she addressed the room and staff. "In the meantime, I want all of our assets recalled from overseas, I want our fleets to return to their home ports, and I want all reserves mobilized, in that order. We're going to lose Canterlot."

A hush swept over the room. "Lose the city?" asked Luna, looking to her sister, genuine fear painted in her wet eyes.

"I fear we may indeed. But in the meantime, we have a duty to save as many as we can," explained Celestia.

"Your Highness!" interrupted Brass, an alert arriving across his panel. "News from the ground troops. The infected have broken through," he called out. "Defensive lines are broken!"

"Alright, listen up," shouted Celestia over the din that erupted. "Brass, I want everyone here on the next airship out. Head to the Crystal Empire. We will coordinate the counteroffensive with you from the Canterlot Bunker. We'll be able to take control over the remaining defensive assets from there."

"Your Highness, to remain behind, are you sure," Brass ventured uneasily. "We have to think of protocol."

"The bunker is stocked for long periods. We can work best from here and activate additional resources as we see appropriate," Celestia assured him, Brass uncomfortably working his jaw.

The Princess turned to the Professor and Romulus. "Let's go. You should both come with us. Most of the staff and Royal Court should already be down there."

Brass was able to catch Romulus as he followed the Princesses and Lakeshore out the control center. "Here," he offered, passing the bat pony a vest. "You're going to want a saddle rig."

Romulus inspected the armored utility vest before slipping it on, his hoof immediately finding the pistol holstered on its side. The MAG energy weapon was slightly warm to the touch, a soft vibration emanating from its chamber. It was loaded.

"Keep them safe," he whispered, the rest of his ensigns donning their own saddle rigs.

Romulus returned Brass a sharp nod, tightening the straps on the vest before rejoining the Princesses.

"Don't stay behind too long, Brass," remarked Celestia as they exited the comms center.

"Of course, your Highness," he promised before addressing the remaining staff. "Alright, everypony ready? Geared up? Then we're going to proceed to the castle's front courtyard. Grab anypony still wandering the castle. Transport is on its way, so let's hightail it out of here!"

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The oaken doors of the orphanage lay on the ground, their wrought hinges of iron bent like paperclips, and the wood cracked and splintered.

"No," Whiplash gasped, slowing to a trot. Debris and what was left of the doors littered the front steps, the weathered stonework stained with a sticky carpet of blood. A nearby police wagon lay in tatters, its lights still silently spinning, casting red and blue silhouettes on the old walls. It looked like he was too late.

Whiplash cautiously tiptoed up to the entrance. Glass crunched underhoof, and he threaded his way around a deepening pool of blood. Its owner was nowhere to be seen.

Reaching down, he spotted a glint in the darkness, his hoof wrapping around an abandoned auto-cross. He charged the gas cylinder on the pistol and checked the clip. Only two shots had been fired. Its owner had not been able to get any more than two shots off.

Behind him, the city was fighting back, the pop of distant gunfire echoing over the sirens and the cries. Whiplash stepped through the dark portal and into the besieged orphanage, his auto-cross leveled before him. Somewhere overhead, he heard the unmistakable scream of JUMPsuits. His eyes followed the commotion, looking up and over the high vaulted ceiling of timbers.

The lights hanging from the entryway flickered ominously. Whiplash turned his head to see the streetlights and the city fall dark behind him, plunging Canterlot with it into blackness.

"Rose?" he called out, hoping to hear an answer. The glow of the set sun still burned behind the horizon. Whiplash clicked on the flashlight tucked under the cross, its thin beam illuminating the cavernous stone arched hallway with a sickly yellow wash. Nopony answered from the darkened halls of the orphanage.

What sounded like thunder boomed in the distance, a great ball of fire and light rising into the air. Then another shortly after, a hot blanket of smoke and dust rising up to further cover them in deathly night.

The fires that rose in the distance bathed the corridor with its brilliance, and for a moment, Whiplash spotted something lying on the floor. He crept closer, eyes never leaving the sight posts of the cross.

He slowly bent down, turning the object over. It was just a foal's toy, some sort of white animal. A bear?

A sudden scream ahead jerked Whiplash's head up. Rose was cowering in the doorway, clutching it as if she were about to fall.

"Rose!" he cried. But the filly was not looking at him, but up.

His eyes instinctively followed, followed them to the pair of glowing, light blue eyes watching him intently from the darkened rafters.

The light of his cross crept across the infected pony. It let out a snarling hiss, cringing in the light, its sharp teeth reflecting in the beam. They were faintly red, and saliva dripped from them in thick globules.

"Run!" he managed to yell to Rose before the creature launched at them like a rocket. Whiplashed raised the cross, the weapon kicking in his hooves with a burst of compressed CO².

However, the dark figure was faster. It slammed into Whiplash from above like a sack of bricks, almost impaling the pegasus with its viciously sharp horn. The two were thrown into a tumble. Whiplash was thrown against the far wall, his head cracking back, vision fading in and out. The creature moved toward Whiplash, running a red, forked tongue over its teeth, chittering. It moved closer, stepping into the beam of light from the auto-cross.

Immediately reacting, the creature jumped back and howled in pain, recoiling from the light. It snarled angrily, turning its attention to Rose instead. The filly was still frozen in the doorway, and she wouldn't budge.

Whiplash anticipated the creature's lunge and rammed it as they flew through the air once more, the Wonderbolt pulling it down with him. They rolled, the beast coming to a rest on top of him, pinning him with hard chitinous hooves.

Whiplash jabbed his hind legs under the creature and tried to push it off his chest. The creature writhed and snapped it's razor-sharp teeth at him, thick saliva dripping onto his face. Whiplash let loose a roar and heaved the infected pony off of him, slamming it against the stonework wall. He lunged for his weapon, grabbing the auto-cross and rolling onto his back.

The creature flew from out the dark as Whiplash depressed the trigger. Shadow blended with shadow.

Pop! Thwack! Pop! Thwack!

Steel bolts flew from the cross, striking the creature. Several buried themselves in the creature's neck while others pierced its forelegs. But it showed no signs of stopping. If anything, it was more enraged.

It let out an animal-like cry and howled. The creature pounced on Whiplash, as he let loose another volley. With a heavy thud, it fell atop the stallion and moved no more.

Slowly, Whiplash pushed the body off of him, a single bolt protruding from the creature's breastbone. He rolled it aside, the unnatural glow gradually fading from its eyes. Its mouth hung limp, revealing its terrifying teeth that looked straight out a nightmare.

Whiplash was quickly back on his hooves, pulling Rose away from it. Its skin blistered and smoked under the beam of his flashlight.

"She told me she would send help," a voice with a thick accent said behind the pegasus.

Whiplash jumped around, already squeezing the trigger with the tip of his hoof. The zebra behind him blinked in the light of the cross. Whiplash let out the breath he had been holding, lowering the pistol.

"Zahara," he breathed in relief. "I was running from the hospital. I heard the bell," he managed, catching his strength. His body was bruised, and his plaster wing still burned.

"She told me to ring them, that you would come for the girl," Zahara said.

"Who?" Whiplash asked. "Who told you I was coming."

Zahara turned her eyes up, her black and white mane falling over her back, and pointed with a hoof. "You know who I speak of, Whiplash. The one who foretold of this great sadness, our own undoing."

"I don't understand," he complained. "What are you talking about?"

"All will be shown to you in time," Zahara calmly assured him, taking him and the girl by the hoof and leading them further into the darkened covenant. "She has a special plan for the girl. She will show the child the way. But you must protect her until then."

They were passing through a kitchen, the ovens still warm and dirty dishes still waiting in the sink for someone to wash them. Rose clutched the zebra matriarch's hoof tight, the white stuffed bear clutched beside her.

"This is all part of the plan," Zahara relayed to him, opening a door out of the kitchen and into a dark space. It smelled of oil and mothballs, and Whiplash's whole body tensed as they three plunged into the darkness. "We all have a part to play, Major. Yours is to watch and protect the girl," she chanted.

"And what is your part in all this?" Whiplash wondered, steeling his teeth as he searched the darkness before him with his hooves.

A light flicked on, revealing them to be in a garage. A truck, old and showing patches of rust around her sagging wheel wells, waited for them.

"My part was to get her to you," Zahara said, leading the filly to the cab, a single bench seat. "Get buckled in, Rose," she instructed the filly.

"Now that I have done my part, I will follow you as far as I can. I sense there is still another plan in store for me." Zahara tossed him a set of keys on a ring before lifting the garage door with a rattle. The city was burning outside the orphanage.

Whiplash didn't have time to wait and try and decipher the zebra's cryptic message. He vaulted into the driver's seat of the truck, Zahara in the passenger seat, Rose safely between them. She was holding onto her bear for dear life, the little one's eyes saucers as little whimpers escaped her throat.

"Can you feel it?" the zebra asked, slamming the passenger door and buckling herself in. "The one they call queen. The one behind such travesty. Can you feel her sorrow?"

Whiplash responded by twisting the key, the engine roaring to life. Headlights clicked on, and he mashed the accelerator, the truck bursting from the garage. In seconds, they were flying down the boulevard. He weaved through the cars overturned or on fire or simply left behind. There was hardly anypony on the streets now. Only ash and stains of crimson remained.

"We need a way out of the city," he said, turning the truck out of the garden district and onto the freeway. "The Wonderbolts are trying to burn out the infection. We're already in the crossfire, which means we're in the thick of it," he said.

Zahara's hooves gently shooshed Rose. "Shh, it's alright, little one. We're going to be ok," she promised. "Whiplash is here, just like I promised you," she said with a genuine smile, wiping away a tear on the filly. "Here," she sat up. "Turn off here."

They rounded the block, the truck's tires screeching on the cobblestone as Whiplash jumped on the brakes. "Stars!" he screamed, swerving the wheel. A line of soldiers spanned the street, rifles at the ready.

"Canterlot Guard! Stop the vehicle!"

"What are you doing," Zahara asked incredulously. "We cannot stop!"

"I'm not getting shot!" Whiplash shouted, holding up a hoof as the soldiers shined a spotlight at the truck. A stallion approached from the passenger side, barrel pointed into the cab. "Remain in the vehicle!" he ordered.

"Turn around!" a megaphone boomed. “Turn around immediately and proceed to– thump!” The megaphone in the soldier's hoof fell to the pavement in a burst of feedback.

"They're above us!" one of the guards shouted, unleashing a blast from his rifle. Suddenly they were all firing at the infected that dove at them from above, lighting the sky up with bursts of arcane fire. It was a flurry of madness, the guard outside the truck yanked violently upward in a curdling scream and a spray of red that showered the windshield.

Zahara threw the door of the truck open. "More are coming!" she shouted. "Get the girl out of the city!"

"Zahara, wait!" he called after her, but she had already picked up the rifle dropped outside.

"Get her to safety!" she waved him off through the open door. "This is why I was brought with you!" she screamed over the sound of arcane shots. "This is why she brought me here. Trust her!" she pleaded. "For the girl!"

Then she was gone, running into the fray, firing the rifle at the dark figures that lept from the rooftops as she bounded for cover.

"Dammit," Whiplash cursed, jamming the shifter into gear and whipping the truck around, the door slamming shut with its momentum. He mashed the accelerator, the flash of rifles behind him urging him onward, away from the zebra and few remaining soldiers. She had bought their escape.

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Comments

[Streamline]

This is such a good story, I really hope you continue it. But not logging in at all for nearly a year now is a bad sign.

[AnchorsAway]

11279007
Stranger things have happened but I share your frustration. Stay tuned hopefully.