Pandemic: Starting Over

by Halira

Chapter 31: Welcome to Wabash Manor

Morning came and with it the beginning of a new adventure.

Our new adventure started slowly. I got up and met with Josie. The mare had some limited success teaching English to Mèng. He now had a vocabulary of two words, those words being no and please. In his case, please indicated he wanted something. The word yes was still a mystery to him, but two new words was a massive improvement. Technically he had learned a third word, Josie, but I didn't think that counted.

The morning passed by with no notable drama. I had to spend a few minutes packing things. I didn't have much of my own in my room, and the foals toys I put back into the shopping bags they had come in. Qīng Yǔ refused to be parted from her toy dog, and I decided just to let her hold onto it. It would be up to her mother to ensure the thing made the trip with us. Shǔguāng, Líng, and Mèng spent much of the morning distracted by cartoons, occasionally breaking to go out the back door and run around outside.

Shortly before noon, a pair of SUVs arrived at the condo, this time with legitimate SPEC agents instead of IT techs, and a familiar face I hadn't seen in the past year.

"Sunset!" Number Crunch shouted as she exited the passenger door of one of the SUVs. "Good to see you. Wild sometimes mentions you, but it doesn't stop me from worrying about you."

I crossed the yard to greet my fellow unicorn. Number looked healthy enough; the crow's feet near the edges of her eyes were a little deeper, but her blue fur was as vibrant as ever, and her brown mane was still free of grey. She wore a small saddle bag that might have qualified as just a large purse with a SPEC logo embroidered on it. What was different about her was she seemed legitimately happy to see me.

"I… It's good to see you too, Number," I said as I approached her. I was shocked a moment later when she pulled me into a hug, but I returned it. When we broke our hug, I smiled. "I didn't expect this warm a greeting from you."

Her ears sagged a bit. "Yeah, Wild is always angry at you and will likely remain so, but I don't blame you for what happened. Yes, things could have been done better, but I don't think anyone could have anticipated what happened."

Number Crunch had gone to college with me when we were young and human. We had been roommates for a short time before drifting away from one another. Somewhere along the line, she had become involved with organized crime and became what would be considered a financial cleaner. Shortly after we became ponies, we reconnected. She then used those nefarious ties to my advantage, financing much of SPECs early operations with stolen money—money stolen from criminals, but stolen money all the same.

Events had forced her to clean up her act soon after that and since then she’d walked the straight and narrow. As far as I knew, she had never been caught or prosecuted for her crimes as a human and had become Wild Growth's business mentor, best friend, and right-hoof mare. She ardently believed that Wild Growth represented the best in what people could be and did everything she could to help further Wild Growth's goals, plans, and influence.

"I'm still surprised you seem so happy to see me," I said as the foals cautiously came up behind me.

She smiled at me once again. "We had our bad blood in the past, but that's the past. I know you're a changed pony, and the you who is here today is someone who wants to be better. I'm someone who understands having a past they're not proud of and want to put behind them, and I'm ready to be your friend again, if you'll accept my friendship."

I hugged her again, and she hugged me back. I felt close to tears. "Thank you, Number. That means a lot to me."

"There's still room for you in the former Shimmerist recovery club, funnily enough the club is getting big—thanks to you," she replied in an amused tone. "I'm joking about there being an actual club, but your final manifesto and speech made a big difference."

I pulled back from her. "You're talking about those so-called Blessingists."

She tilted her head slightly. "Well, them and many others who have turned away from their hatred. I'm not really on the Blessingist bandwagon, but their ranks are proliferating at a rapid pace, and I prefer dealing with them over Shimmerists anyday. I take it you aren't a fan of them?"

A resisted the urge to grumble. "I wish they didn't put me up on a pedestal. I certainly don't want my name getting slapped on some group. I don't condemn them, and I don't endorse them, and I don't want to be involved."

Number shrugged. "You may not have a choice about those first two things, but whether you get involved or not is completely in your control, and I can respect you not wanting to. There are so many now that they aren't just going to go away anytime soon. They’re not just former Shimmerists, they are pulling ponies and humans from all walks of life and backgrounds; they've even leeched people away from Humanity First."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Humanity First, seriously?"

She nodded. "Not enough to put Humanity First out of business, or significantly reduce it's threat, but Blessingists present a very hopeful message to humans—they can have magic too, that they have a right to have magic, and they don't need to be permanently transformed to get that magic. That kind of message sells like wildfire."

"With me as a pseudo-prophet," I deadpanned.

"Like it or not, Sunset, you can't stop it," she cocked her head. "By the way, I love the new fur color. I knew it was you when I saw your mark, but the fur does look very good. Was it done by a professional?"

I chortled. "No, I did it myself. I may start wearing a dress or frock to cover the mark. I don't care for clothes, but I care less for people recognizing me and making a scene." I motioned the foals forward. "Meet Lántiān, Shǔguāng, Líng, Mèng, and Qīng Yǔ. Foals, meet my friend, Number Crunch."

Number inclined her head to the foals. "Pleased to meet you. Forgive me if I don't remember all your names right away; my Mandarin is a little rusty. I'm not sure about the exact translation for some of those names, that last one, does that mean light rain?"

"A gentle rain or I believe you say drizzle in English," Lántiān answered. "We pegasi find a gentle rain to be enjoyable."

"I think most people do, although I enjoy sunny days most," Number replied. "We had best be going. Your mouths are going to drop when you see Wabash Manor; the place is huge, with plenty of yard space to play in."

"Wabash Manor? That's the name of the mansion?" I asked.

She turned to the agents briefly. "Go gather their things and load it all up." She then turned to me. "Yep, Wabash Manor. It's an old Victorian mansion, one of the oldest in the state. It belonged to an old mining baron. It got passed around through various owners for the last century until Wild finally bought it. It has a huge stone privacy fence and even larger gardens than the ones you had back in Riverview."

"And she expects me to keep up with it all," I lamented.

"Hey, it's room and board, and there are worse places to end up with room and board," Number replied. "Come, all of you get in the car; we can talk more on the way there."

---

We passed through the wrought-iron gates of the manor grounds a few minutes later. The grounds were indeed big and heavily wooded on all sides—something you wouldn't expect in a major metropolitan area like Denver. It was like we were going to some retreat far out in the middle of nowhere, instead of a location within the city limits.

The trees I recognized as crabapple trees. Yet, I didn't see very many crabapples on the ground, which confused me. Perhaps there were just very industrious squirrels about. Overgrown bushes and flowerbeds in extreme disrepair could be seen in all directions from the car windows as we drove up the path to the mansion itself. I saw several statues with algae, vines, and fungus hiding much of their features, and long dry fountains that were filled with vines. Years' worth of fallen leaves covered much of the grass and made me question if there was any healthy grass beneath some of those piles. There were broken stone benches and fences meant for cultivated vines that had long ago collapsed. This place was going to be a nightmare to get back in order. I did some gardening, but not anything near the scale and expertise needed here. It would take a large team of earth ponies a considerable amount of time and effort to fix all I saw.

It took a minute or two of driving from the gate to reach the mansion itself, and my jaw did indeed drop when I saw it.

If I described every mansion I had ever seen in a horror movie, this place would fit right among those descriptions. It was three stories tall, with an east and west wing spreading out from a main central section. The center section had a tall tower rising out of its side, adding perhaps a fourth or fifth floor to that section, and a steeply sloping tiled roof. The windows were octagonal in shape throughout the mansion, aside from two large rectangular ones that stared out the house's front like eyes. The wings had less steeply sloping roofs, with each wing ending in its own tower. Beyond each tower, there was a small covered walkway leading out to a separate gazebo on each side—one of which looked like it had the roof collapsed and the other's integrity looked highly suspect. A bone dry fountain sat directly in front of the house, with the road curving around it. A few side buildings could be seen, all looking like they hadn't been cared for in ages, and there was even a well.

"Wild expects me to keep up with all this?" I asked in disbelief as the car came to a stop in front of the house.

"She's going to send some gardeners and carpenters to fix up the outside, don't worry about that. She does expect you to do maintenance after she has it fixed up," Number explained as she lit her horn and opened the passenger door to let all the foals out.

I stepped out of the car onto the sandy dirt that surrounded the dry fountain. "If the outside looks this bad, what does the inside look like? Is this place even habitable?"

"The inside is in mostly excellent shape," Number replied as she stepped out and joined me. "There is a handypony who has been keeping the inside in shape and squatters out. He's got a little house out behind this one, and he keeps up with that side of the grounds, but he can't keep up with everything on this side as well as everything else, not by himself. He kind of came with the place, and Wild only recently bought the property and hasn't gotten teams out here yet to do this side of the grounds."

I cocked an ear. "He lives in an outbuilding? Why not inside the main house?"

Number shrugged and looked around. "I'm not sure. You'll have to ask him. He was supposed to be meeting us, but I see no sign of him. We kind of need him; he has the keys."

Lántiān pulled her siblings and daughter close to her with her wings; her brothers seemed unhappy they weren't being allowed to wander or explore, but didn't fight her.

"This place does not seem safe for foals, ma'am," Lántiān said in a brisk tone. "My brothers could end up trapped or hurt while trying to play in these ruins, and who knows what they might step on underneath these beds of leaves. This is not acceptable."

"Don't worry; I don't intend on letting them wander around in the front until this is all fixed," I informed her. "Now, if the inside is not habitable or the backyard is as bad, we may need to go back to the condo or find a hotel until Wild makes this building fit to live in."

"I came by yesterday, and Mister Tibbs—that's the handypony, showed me the inside. It's safe," Number said. She then levitated a human-style cell phone out of her bag and dialed a number. It rang for about twenty seconds before being answered.

"Hello?" It was a male voice.

Number glared at the phone. "Mister Tibbs, we've arrived, and you're not here to greet the house's new residents. Where are you?"

"Oh! I'm very sorry! I'll be right out. I was installing in that new refrigerator and getting rid of that old clunker that was here since the seventies. The old waterline for it had given me some trouble. It's all done. I'll be at the front door in just a moment."

"Good, we'll be waiting," Number replied. She then put away her phone and turned to the agents. "Gather up their things to bring inside. Make sure nothing is left behind by accident. I don't want to be getting any calls about one of the foals missing a favorite toy or worse."

The agents got to work unloading the SUVs and the front door, a massive wooden thing with a big W carved on it, opened up, revealing a middle-aged cloudy white crystal pony stallion with a scraggly yellow mane. His mark was three purple swirls surrounding a star. He was also notably missing one of his eyes, with an off white glass one in its place that had no iris. The glass eye was highly reflective, and I could see myself in it.

"Sorry to keep you mares waiting. I'm Malcomb Tibbs, and I welcome you to your new home, Wabash Manor. I hope you breathe some new life into the place; it's been so dead here."

Comments

[KeePony]

You did the full Gothic manor with Red McHerring the repair pony to.

[Halira]

10542511
You forgot we also have widowed mother with kids, trying to get away from a troubled past, and we already have legitimate ghosts in Arbiter and Yinyu.

I'm going all in on this trope, and having fun with it. .

There'll be small details in each chapter that may hint at what's actually going on at Wabash. I hope everyone pays attention to the little details, they may be small, but they're there.

[UmbraEquinae]

Consider Sunset abashed.
Okay, there are crab apple trees without apples and the exterior of this estate seems to be in disrepair. Number claims that the place will receive some touching upon and that the houses are perfectly safe, however...
This reminds me of the projected illusions within the ruins of several historical places in the Equestrian Wasteland, or at least those encountered by Blackjack in Fallout Equestria: Project Horizons.

Something more at Wabash Manor...
As above, so below.

[harts fire]

dam this is my dream home.

[Mr Swanky Hat]

He now had a vocabulary of two words, those words being no and please.

omg that reminds me of my much younger sister when she was a baby, she preferred saying please instead of yes, but pronounced it "peas"