Survival against all odds

by thesupernile

Chapter 9

Isabel's leg was bleeding fast.

Thankfully, the wolf hadn't punctured her artery, when it's thorny teeth had sliced her calf, otherwise she would already be dead. But a slight mercy didn't mean she was home free.

In fact, it was quite the opposite. She had only the pack on her back to treat the kind of wound she should have had a hospital for. Blood flowed unrestricted. Sticking to her fur, sanguine red.

It hurt to even think about, but she was quick to sling her bag from her back. Looking back on it, she should have insisted on carrying the first aid kit; Henry had it. He wouldn't find her out here. That was more likely than a million lightning strikes.

It wasn't that bad, at least she knew they had a better chance than she did. She was without vital equipment and they weren't.

So she had to improvise. That was what what had got them this far after all. The thing humans, or maybe ponies in this world, were known for. Improvisation and intelligence. She could use all the intelligence she could get.

Blackness crept into her vision as she scanned the bag for anything that might help. Nothing fit the bill: a bottle of water long emptied, a bag full of nothing, a towel, a box of matches... A towel.

Ripping it out of the bag with her wing, she brandished it like it were a golden sword. It was a sword to vanquish bleeding and with strength she didn't know she had, she fought back the emerging tiredness. Just like before, sleep was death. She had to stay awake.

Stay alive.

Pulling it around her leg, she yanked it as tight as possible, keeping constant pressure on the wound. An improvised bandage. It wasn't pretty, a towel pulled tight over her leg and tied roughly at the back. But it could save her life. If it worked.

She would have to hope it could. Else she would die and it would all be for nothing.

She had a new goal now, that strange town in the distance. With it's rooftops and streets and walls and towers. It could save her life. How far it was, Isabel didn't know. Too far, she imagined.

But she couldn't let go of that hope. It was buried deep into her heart, twisting and pulling at her from an impossible distance. Forcing her to keep going despite the insurmountable odds.

The woods were still thick with bushes, though unlike before, there appeared to be a trail cut out from it. Little used, by the evidence of the overgrowth, and unpaved, but a traversable path nevertheless. It better not wind too much, Isabel thought, she couldn't take walking in circles.

In fact, she could barely walk at all.

Certainly, she shouldn't have walked. In ideal circumstances. Walking risked reopening the wound or upsetting the bandage. Muscles moving could damage the limb and force an amputation. Or kill her. That was always a possibility.

But maybe the gods would finally have mercy. She had no other choice regardless. Staying here meant death too.

So she stepped onto the trail.

And she almost collapsed in pain.

Searing agony ebbed through her muscles. Unbareable, awful, stinging, flaming, endless pain. Begging her to stop moving, Isabel's body berated her for forsaking it. For her betrayal.

Even hope was struggling to keep her going. Agony incarnate. Struggling atop struggling struggle. It hurt to think. To feel. To breathe. Let alone move. Or walk.

Yet she kept going. Step after step, crawling her way along the loosely trampled pathways in desperation. Desperate hope of rescue. Before it was too late.

It might already be.

She was living on borrowed time. Only hoping she might afford to repay it, she had no other choice. Pain or death.

Some might choose death.

But Isabel had to survive. For Phoebe. For Emma. For Oscar and Aiden and Henry too. All of them could live on in her story.

If she survived.

So she kept struggling.

---

Gloomily, Swirling Gale entered Lieutenant Drift's office. It was a dismal place, made of soft cloud yet feeling cold and hard as concrete. A single desk sat in a sea of nothing. Meager in comparison to the size of the room, though the room wasn't large. And posters of nothing were plastered as propaganda against the walls.

Behind the desk, sat the pony she reported to. The one who would finally call her search off. End the suffering.

Between her teeth, she carried a final report on the survivors. Though she could hardly bear to carry it; it felt like tungsten.

All dead it would explain. Search over. Nothing else.

Trembling, she dropped it onto the desk. "Unfortunately," she stammered, feeling every word like a knife to her heart, "the survivors... Are... They're all dead..."

Drift only nodded. He seemed to understand her in a way that went beyond sympathy. "You did your best. Remember that. Whatever you do, don't blame yourself. Don't forget all the good you did."

But Swirling did blame herself. Regret for what could have been drowned her. Suffocated her with the idea of blame. Could she had gone faster? Spent less time with the bodies? Found the marks earlier? Or was it just fate?

It couldn't be fate.

She couldn't accept that it was meant to be. Ponies were supposed to be able to change things.

Except no one could change the past.

"I can tell you're pretty cut up about this," Drift placed a comforting hoof on Swirling's shoulder, "take it from me, you get caught up in what you did wrong and you don't remember all the things you did right."

"I know," Swirling lied, a quick hoof brushing away a lonely tear.

"No you don't, but you're still young, I wouldn't expect you to," Drift replied, surprising Swirling Gale with his forthcoming honesty, "I'm putting you on leave for the time being. Go see your family, your friends, whoever you want. You have the time off. We'll contact you when we need you back."

"Thank you," Swirling nodded, fighting back more tears. She couldn't understand. Her failure meant the world to no one and to everyone. It stung as badly as any wound ever could.

"Why don't you stop by Ponyville and deliver your report to Princess Twilight? She's been taking an interest in the case," Drift explained, "if not, I can get someone else to-"

"I'll do it," Swirling interrupted, "I'll make sure it gets to the princess. I need something else to do with all the time you've given me."

"I commend your commitment Swirling Gale. You should be proud of yourself."

But she wasn't proud. She felt like a failure. This has been her first mission in the guard that really mattered and she'd messed it up.

Looking out at the city of Cloudsdale, her eyes flicked across the cloud pillars and the stormy spires. Pegasi fluttering to and fro across her vision patternlessly. All sights that her mystery pegasus would never see again. Cloudsdale was the spiritual home of the Pegasi and it felt wrong to stay here after she had failed.

Yet the city didn't care. It was beautiful despite the survivors absence.

Maybe a break would be good after all. She needed something to take her mind off the recent events or she'd go crazy with regret.

Just needed to get that letter to Ponyville first.

Easy.

---

Huddling under twisted tree roots wasn't a good way to start a day. Wet mud stuck to her fur and her mane was caked in dirt. Grass and weeds stroked her with crisp, wet, dew covered fingers. And yet Isabel didn't care.

She hadn't slept, of course. With that inexorable pain ringing through her nerves she couldn't hope to catch a moment of respite. Even in rest.

Since losing blood, she'd felt cold and tired. Lethargic and slothish. The kind of demotivating tiredness that dragged down ambition turned toxic with circumstance.

Compounding this, was the dehydration. Faint dizziness had grasped her mind, warranting all kinds of awful decisions and making worse the pain of the wound. She could hardly trust her mind any longer. Not without anyone to bounce ideas off.

Without friends, Survival was near impossible.

Hunger too pinched her thoughts, making all the problems a million times worse. Dealing with life threatening injuries would have been bad at the best of times, dealing with it while half starved in the forest was completely different.

Hope was still distant. She could see the glow of lights through the impossibility thick trees yet she was still much too far for much hope of rescue. Someone living on the edge of the forest might save her life with their home's position. If anyone lived there. But maybe they didn't.

Hope may have been distant...

But it was there. And Isabel loved it. For it tasted of sunlight.

And it kept her crawling forwards despite the unendurable fire that covered her leg. Sunlight could burn as quickly as it could warm but people still crave it. Delight in its glory.

Though it throbbed with pain, her ramshackle bandage had kept her alive. Blood had stained through the towel, undoubtedly ruining the fabric. But it kept her alive and that made it worth more than gold.

Every now and then, she would consider adjusting it or trying to find another object in her bag that might help obtain the same effect. So she could replace the bandage with something better. Improve her chances.

There wasn't anything else that could be done. Her fate was on the wind. It could go anywhere and she couldn't stop it.

But pain had to stop. To stop, she needed to reach the town. To reach the town, she needed to walk. To walk, she needed to endure more pain.

A vicious cycle of torture; it was what she was used to. It would be strange being back in society, having a job again, committments. She'd miss a little of the freedom of the wild.

But that freedom came with a high price. For her friends, it had been their lives. For her, immense suffering. She begged for her own life now. Pushing against limits to cheat fate.

What was fate anyway but cruel?

She could beat this: survive, call help for her friends, find the others and take another step.

Step after step up another torturous hill, through a forest with no end. Upwards again, till she reached the crest of the microsized mountain.

There she saw the most beautiful sight her eyes had ever seen.

White walls held up a roof of grass. Bright and brilliant, light poured out a plethora of windows as evidence of life within. A thousand bird boxes peaked out of the mossy rooftop and a chimney poured out kind smoke.

Ringed with a little stream that could easily be crossed with the small arched bridge that sat near the entrance, beckoning her inside.

It looked beautiful, with plentiful wildlife to accompany the fairytale cottage. Hares and rabbits played in the grass while birds tweeted in the treetops. Isabel had to rub her eyes to make sure it wasn't a mirage.

It wasn't.

But even better than a cottage, were the two ponies that stood at the base of the hill. Isabel could hardly tell what they might be doing, but at that moment, it didn't matter. She needed help and they were help.

"Help!" She cried out in desperation, praying that these ponies weren't mere illusions. "Help!" She yelled again, till their heads turned in her direction.

A moment later, both had taken to the air, desperate to cover the remaining ground to the crawling pegasi as soon as possible.

Isabel could barely stand, so she allowed herself to fall to the floor. For the first time in weeks, she felt safe again. It felt better than anything.

"Are you alright?" The left one, a yellow pegasus with a flowing pink mane, asked, "you look terrible."

"Fluttershy – look!" The other, who seemed to have both violet wings and a horn, yelled in alarm, "look at her leg."

It was said with such authority that Isabel scarcely avoided glancing down at the wound herself, despite knowing exactly how it looked. Blood had stained through the towel many hours ago and looking again wasn't about to change that.

Besides, she felt weak and dizzy. A moment too long and she would pass out.

She uttered a final message, "Find the... The others..." Before she fell to the grassy floor.

Comments

[Slightly Dazed Bystander]

Way to keep us hanging on a knife's edge with that ending.

[Skyblazer9]

Isabel is going to be devastated to learn that all of her friends are gone and she is the only survivor.