Zombie of One

by Impossible Numbers

Ruby's Day

The morning crawled in.

Ruby barely remembered it. She’d opened her eyes but taken ages to fully wake up. She’d shuffled around from steps to kitchen and eaten something soggy from a cereal packet (she wasn’t going to cook every morning). Neither Berry nor Piña met her on her way out: she guessed the former was “having a lie-in” – which could mean anything in this household – and the latter had already hopped and skipped to school.

And then there was school itself.

The only blip hit her when Piña squealed and waved at her in the playground. Otherwise, the day blurred past. Ruby barely cared why she’d been sat in the tiny classroom or what she’d been listening to. Some part of her thought it was a complete waste of time.

Making it worse was that the few times she managed to focus on something intelligible, it slipped out of her grip. Like finding a bit of flotsam coming down the river of words – Cheerilee talked a lot in a soothing, gentle trickle – and trying to catch it with oiled gloves. It was as if she’d just rather lay down on the bank and watch the pretty nothingness sparkle by.

Once or twice, she caught herself drifting off to sleep.

Without in any way processing what she could see, Ruby kept her eyes open and aimed them in Cheerilee’s direction because, well, they were open and had to be looking at something. Besides, Cheerilee had a cheery manner of talking: nothing seemed to please her more than sharing the same room as such special students.

Ruby’s lips twitched, remembering a long-forgotten smile.

Then it hit her.

What if she told Cheerilee everything?

Not right away. There seemed to be too much everything. So much everything that even Ruby strained and couldn’t see all of it. Yet she could sense its grounded presence just as much as she could sense the planet she walked on.

Still, she could tell her something. Maybe the nightmares –

Nooooooooooo! No! No. No way.

Tell Cheerilee that? She’d give her teacher nightmares in turn. What kind of horrible filly would even think of such a thing?

Deep under the layers of dullness, a flicker of guilt curled up in Ruby’s chest. No, nothing could get out. She hated it, but she couldn’t expose something that horrible to someone else. She’d never do that to anyone. Besides, then she’d have to tell Cheerilee all the everything, and suddenly that was about as welcome as trying to explain matrix mathematics when she hadn’t even figured out how to draw a table yet.

She couldn’t do it.

Which – she told herself – was just as well, because if she told, she’d lose.

What she’d lose, she had no idea. It wasn’t as if this was a game. But deep in her childish heart, she knew the moment she talked, she lost.

So she kept quiet, and she held tight to the squirming thing in her chest, and she waited for the world to turn into recess. She could handle recess.

---

In the playground, she was delighted to find Dinky’s “Save the Monsters” campaign had gone awry. Things got more interesting when things went awry.

For one thing, Dinky patiently tried to explain to Piña the political significance of her own placard. Ruby listened in, grinning.

“…and that’s why it’s not ‘just a pretty picture’,” finished Dinky.

“Oh, that’s OK, then,” said Piña happily. “I broughted all my own.”

And she bent down and held up – drooling slightly – a wad of papers. Ruby couldn’t see all of them, but the topmost one had a badly chalked blob of black with points on top.

“What is it?” Ruby turned her head upside-down in case it made sense that way.

“Id a mosssstur!” Piña opened her mouth to let the paper fall onto the grass. “I drewded a werewolf vampire. It’s called a wumpire.”

“Aw!” Apple Bloom hit herself. “Why didn’t Ah think of that? Ah could’ve made up a cannibal apple or somethin’!”

Dinky hummed impatiently. “It’s not an arts and crafts project! It’s a serious campaign! What?”

This last one was aimed at the passing colt, who grinned and threw two bits at her hooves.

“It’s not a charity either!” Dinky shouted after him.

“So where’s the money for your campaigns gonna come from?” asked Ruby, enjoying herself immensely. “Is it gonna fall out of the sky?”

Scowling, Dinky pretended not to hear her. “Listen! We have the chance to save hundreds and hundreds of monospecies –”

“Mono-what?”

“Monospecies.” Dinky had the smart look of someone who had yet to learn her smartest move was not to show off her smartness. “Species with only one member. There’s a lot of them all over Equestria, and it’d only take one accident to make them totally extinct. Can you imagine how bad it would be if they were to disappear?”

“Like what?”

“Like the flesh-eating, three-headed chimera? The sanity-destroying soul shark? The whirring-bladed knife hedge? The boredom-breeding accountant fish?”

Ruby’s face froze in staged shock. “Gosh, I can see why you want to keep those things alive.”

“It’s not about how nice they are! It’s all about the holistic harmony of the dynamic equilibrium of the intraspecific ecosystem!”

“OK, you’re doing that on purpose.” Around Ruby, a lot of foals scratched their heads.

“Well… well, so are you?”

“Miss Dinky?” said Piña, tapping her on the shoulder. She held something up. “I broughted my kelpie costume.”

Piña’s non-sequitur dropped into the conversation like a cannonball on a catering table. There passed a few seconds whilst foals mentally picked up the pieces and checked if they were still edible.

“Why?” said Ruby cautiously.

“Because of all the monsters thing.” Piña looked worried. “This is a monsters thing, isn’t it, like Nightmare Night?”

“Noooo!” yelled Dinky. For all her friendly loyalty, Ruby had to turn and giggle behind her back.

“But I can wear the costume, right?” insisted Piña.

Ruby couldn’t help herself. “Go ahead. Maybe it’ll be extra advertising for Save-The-Accountant-Fish Day. Or we could call it the ‘Keep a Kelpie Kampaign’. Ooh, ooh, let’s say we’ve got it… loched up.”

Silently, Dinky gave her a withering laugh and then sighed and hung her head.

Not unkindly, Apple Bloom patted her on the shoulder; it would have looked convincing if she didn’t titter first. “Nice idea, though. Could be worth bringin’ up on Nightmare Night.”

Dinky raised her head.

“Yeah, sounds like a really fun game,” Apple Bloom explained.

Dinky lowered her head again.

Whilst they let her regrow her snapped-off ego, Apple Bloom turned to Piña. “Say, is your sis still on for that party tonight?”

Instantly, Ruby boiled. Why are you talking to her? I’m the sane one!

Before Piña had opened her mouth, Ruby said loudly, “Yeah, no biggie. Berry wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Surprised, Apple Bloom turned to her. But then, Ruby realized, it was obvious why she’d gone to Piña first. Foals had always asked Piña about Berry’s parties, seeing as she was the insider. Ruby simply hadn’t been in that position for long.

“And that includes… drinks?” Apple Bloom whispered.

A shiver of pleasure ran round the circle. At a certain age, to receive Berry Punch’s delectable drinks was to be blessed with manna from the heavens. She could do things with humble fruits and sloshing liquids that a winemaker couldn’t do with the Legendary White Grapes of Ichor. And those grapes could brainwash dark lords: legend had it that King Deathbringer the Bad-Tempered had cleaned up his act, handed out tax breaks, set up a welfare state, and gone round personally to apologize to all the peasants who still had their ears, if he could just have another sip of that good ol’ Achin’ Ichor.

Not that Apple Bloom’s question wasn’t dumb. Berry loved kids. She was the sort to squeal at the sight of babies. A flock of eager students, and the mare herself would be their shepherd.

She’s practically a kid herself, thought Ruby.

“Yes,” she said, “that includes drinks.” But she wasn’t too bitter about that, simply because it meant she’d get a drink as well.

“My sis is gweat!” squeaked Piña, who’d figured out something nice was happening.

That appeared to be the opinion of the excited whispers jumping from mouth to mouth. The hopscotch of gossip became much livelier at the prospect of festive fun.

Still…

Ruby’s smile faded.

“I remember when we did this last year,” she said, shrugging shyly.

Next to her, Dinky appeared to have returned to the land of the non-disgraced. She patted Ruby on the shoulder.

“That was a great party,” she agreed.

“It was my first time,” said Ruby.

Dinky kept patting her on the shoulder. Ruby wished she didn’t.

“Weren’t the drinks amazing?” said Dinky.

“Oh… yeah… the drinks…”

Slopping onto the grass, Apple Bloom licked her lips. “Fizzy apple and cranberry juice and ginger drink and lemon and orange and all kinds of berries and mint! Mint! And all topped with coconut sprinkles.”

No longer patting shoulders, Dinky raised her eyebrows, impressed. “You remembered the recipe?”

“Sure! Ah wanted to see if Applejack could make it. Which she nearly did.” Sisterly loyalty glowered briefly. “Anyway, Ah didn’t think it could work, but wow was Ah wrong.”

“I know. Berry Punch is a mixological genius.”

“Darn tootin’!”

So what am I? thought Ruby angrily. Chopped onion? “Well, I can’t wait to see you all at the party.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for anythin’!” Apple Bloom grinned. “Got some games on too?”

Ruby felt like they were throwing fruit at her face. She didn’t dare move in case the trickling juice of humiliation somehow got worse. The worst part was that she didn’t think they’d even noticed. This was just another round of playground talk.

Behind the calm mask, she drew away from them like a brain shrinking in a skull subject to the desert heat. Desperate, thirsty, losing something that boiled away bit by bit.

“We’re looking forward to it,” she snapped, then looked at Piña sidelong. “Aren’t we?”

“MMMMMMmmmmmm yyyyyyeeeeaaaahhhhh.” Piña half-spoke, half-hummed, the words sweets in her mouth. “And we get games too.”

“Oh.” Ruby looked away, glumly. “Yeah. Great.”

Ruby shut up after that. Even as the others went back to arguing over monster sympathy, she didn’t want to play along now. If she spoke any more, her insides would just shrivel up faster and harsher. Best conserve what little sickly water she had left.

---

After school, the parents came.

Actually, very few did that. Ponyville was a town you could spit across, everyone knew everyone, and on top of that there was little risk of anything digestive happening to a pony so long as they stayed away from the Everfree Forest. As a result, they thought nothing of letting foals run around and come home.

But some ponies couldn’t be helped. In Dinky’s case, she preferred to have someone to lecture at about her latest lessons, and in any case, Dinky preferred the company of others to the company of her own. Ruby wondered whether the girl would shut down completely if left in a room by herself for five minutes, like a daisy starved of sunlight.

For her money, Ruby liked the silence. It meant the only voice she had to put up with was also the only one she could switch off at will. It was what she imagined being free was like.

She didn’t even have to walk Piña home: Piña loved Cheerilee, but as soon as the last bell rang, she loved Berry again and immediately ran home to check she was still there.

Derpy was waiting at the school gate. Nothing unusual: Dinky ran up to her and they instantly nuzzled noses. Ruby had to look away, eyes tightening.

Then, as usual, Dinky began an excited rush of verbiage, which earned her a graceful smile that probably didn’t understand a word of it. After all, Derpy wasn’t one of nature’s gifted intellects.

What was unusual was Derpy showing Ruby special interest as she drew closer. Ruby wasn’t even making a beeline for her; she just wanted the gate, and the wonky-eyed pegasus mare happened to be along the route. Not even Piña had managed to overtake her yet.

“You weren’t planning on walking home on your own, were you?” Derpy asked.

Surprised, Ruby stopped dead. Apart from… four ponies, the adults around her usually didn’t pay Ruby more than a polite hello. Yet Derpy spoke as though frightened that Ruby had to do any such thing. It was… It did something to Ruby’s world, softened the edges a bit, though she didn’t want to think why.

“Er…” said Ruby.

“Should someone accompany you?”

“I am accompanied. Piña’s accompanying me, aren’t you, Piña?”

“I am?” said Piña, showing her usual quick wit.

Derpy still looked worried, but Ruby wished she didn’t. It made her think there was something to worry about.

Then Derpy cleared her throat and straightened up. “Oh. OK. Only Berry asked me to come fetch you for her.”

“She did?” said Piña, keeping up her standard.

But the words sank through Ruby like a hot stone through a soufflé. Suddenly, a tranquil journey along hedgerows and country lanes vanished. Something else loomed in the distance, with building wings and unforgiving windows for eyes.

She was very, very careful not to let her face change. Her wide eyes beat her to it.

“I’m sorry, Ruby, Piña,” said Derpy, one eye wandering north in her nervousness. “It’s a medical day again. She asked me when I dropped off the mail if I could help again.”

Still slow on the uptake, Piña cocked her head like the last spaniel in the shop. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” said Derpy, almost laughing with relief. “Berry’s fine. She just went a funny way round.”

Dinky, who was not slow on the uptake, put a comforting hoof on Ruby.

Ruby inched away from it.

Her heart began to beat faster.

“Come on,” said Derpy gently, shepherding them along under her nudging wings. Ruby’s legs went to walk on automatic; she’d followed this routine before.

They were heading for the hospital.

It was a hulking, despotic building, too arrogant to stand anywhere but on a hill overlooking the town where it could wait for prey to come willingly. They always did, sooner or later. Ruby felt the heat of its glare as the white horrors inside were poised for the first cough, the sudden collapse, the creeping dinner call of a hundred cries of pain.

White as bone, red as blood.

Ruby didn’t trust the heart symbols over the entrance. Hearts, she knew, were supposed to stay inside pony ribcages.

Despite herself, she drew closer to Derpy, refusing to touch her coat but too certain she shouldn’t stray from the shade of her feathers to go anywhere else. Piña skipped ahead, oblivious and stupid: Ruby wondered if she ever thought about what went on around her, or if it was just a blur of one dratted thing after another.

In a way, Ruby wished she could be the same.

She hated the hospital. It was a beast that could strike at any moment. Ponies went in, but some ponies didn’t come out.

Ruby’s throat shrivelled. She hastily wiped her eyes.

Like a mocking ghost, the building possessed her mind with its corridors full of uncaring masked ponies, its smell of fizzy disinfectant as harsh as having a soft drink forced up her nostrils, its cold bleakness indifferent to her shivering as long words and unfriendly machines did things to ponies in beds…

Her world had died here.

The last thing she’d remembered of her old life had been coming in to see her mother. Or what she’d been told was her mother, lying on the bed and looking too thin and messy to be her real mother. Groaning helplessly, groaning in pain.

Her mother had tried to smile. It had done horrible things to the skin on her cheekbones. Ruby had one last sight remaining of her mother, and it was that dreadful smile.

Whenever she thought of that smile, she heard one of the machines go beep… beep… beep…

Something else she heard: something her mother had said, probably trying to make her feel better. She’d said something about “the kiss of destiny”. Like she was happy to be like this.

And Ruby instantly knew that this wasn’t her mother anymore.

The doctors were quiet, gentle liars. The machines didn’t care what she felt: she was on her own. Deep down, she knew she must be on her own, because everyone in her life kept pretending she hadn’t seen what she’d seen, and she never wanted to talk about it in case it all came out of the depths of her mind and grabbed her and savaged her and slapped her and spat in her face and squeezed –

Mere yards from the front entrance, Ruby dug in her hooves and refused to move.

So suddenly, in fact, that Derpy immediately walked into her.

A comforting wing sheltered her shoulders. “Ruby?” whispered Derpy gently. “It’s OK. You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. Do you want to?”

Ruby shook her head. She kept her gaze firmly on the entrance in case it snuck up on her.

Next to her, Derpy sat down on the ground. “Then we’ll all wait here. She’ll come out soon. She’ll come out.”

Ruby was too scared even to hug her.

She’ll come out, she’ll come out, she’ll come out, she’ll come out… Two tears threatened not to believe her. Ruby didn’t dare blink, in case they made good on their threat. Eventually, her eyes ached.

Although she did notice Derpy shuffling awkwardly. “I wouldn’t mind going in to check on her, just to be sure she’s coming out soon. She did tell me the time.”

They both watched as Piña – more through ignorance than bravery – shuffled right up to the glass doors and put her hooves over her eyes, the better to peer in. Unusually, Dinky had fallen silent, sensing perhaps that this was a bad time to try teaching her mother about endangered monospecies.

Excited babbling slowly crept up behind them. Together, Derpy and Ruby twisted round to see, and a small crowd of foals came over the hill.

“Oh,” said Dinky, mildly curious, “they must be here for the party.”

Ruby suddenly hated every single one of them.

Something sympathetic – though less hateful – stirred Derpy to shoo the crowd away with her very versatile wings. “What are you doing? You should all be going home.”

“We came to see Berry Punch,” said Apple Bloom, who at least had the decency to bruise red with embarrassment. “And since y’all were headin’ to her, we thought we’d come direct, see?”

“This is about drinks, isn’t it?” said Dinky drily.

Apple Bloom shrugged in hopeless confession.

To Ruby’s nasty delight, Derpy tried waving them off again. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now. Why don’t you go back to Ponyville, and –?”

“All by ourselves?” said a colt near the back.

“Oh, I’ll take you back, if you like –”

“Mooooom,” hissed Dinky, who had a little more brain than her mother at times, “then you’d leave us unattended!”

Derpy froze, paralyzed by too much conundrum. It wasn’t that she didn’t know about Ponyville’s tendency to let foals wander free-range, but she didn’t naturally like the idea. There was her constant urge to be the hen over her chicks. Besides, pegasi were used to it. Their children couldn’t necessarily fly, and the cloud city of Cloudsdale was a bad place to let inexperienced flyers wander off on their own.

Only the watching eyes of her classmates kept Ruby rooted to the spot. To reach forward and grab Derpy’s leg now would be fatal…

“Coo-ee!” cried Berry’s voice.

Saved by the bell. Or by Berry, that is. Ruby spun round at once like a weed being twisted out of the ground.

For a moment, she saw the horrible smile as the glass door slammed shut – but no, that was a trick of the light, because Berry’s smile was full-cheeked and much more generous, as if she’d swallowed a watermelon rind sideways. Around her striding hooves, Piña ran around like a dog barking.

“All sorted out!” Berry called out, ruffling Ruby’s mane; Ruby hated the weight and recoiled. “So! Who’s ready to party!?”

Ruby ignored the cheers and thumping hooves of her classmates. “What’s sorted out?”

She swore both Berry and Derpy glanced at each other, pupils darting faster than briefly-scared flies.

“Berry was just visiting her mother,” said Derpy without a second thought.

Berry’s skewed jaws and teeth hit an off note. “Ix-nay on the other-may!” hissed the corner of her mouth.

“I mean a mother. Someone’s mother. Yes, she’s going to become a mother. Erm…” Derpy looked lost out at sea.

Happily, Berry smacked her hooves together for attention. “Never mind that! I said WHO’S READY TO PARTYYYYYYYYYYY!?”

More cheers, more thumps of hooves, and then the small crowd waddled downhill without a second thought.

Ruby knew two things: one, Berry’s mother never went to hospital. She hadn’t even left her home in the sky, and not because she had been a pegasus. Berry’s mother didn’t leave home at all, except for shopping. Ruby kept forgetting what she looked like: all she remembered was the older mare’s gloomy weariness, as if merely existing had been a struggle.

And two, Derpy was terrible at making up stories.

Over Ruby’s leaden thoughts, she heard Berry yell, “PARTY TIME!”

---

Comments

[Bronycommander]

ithis will be interesting