CH1 - Lucky Shoes
How do ponies form parties? No, not the streamers and booze type. The type where a group of like-minded friends band together and do things. All across the wasteland there are stories of rag-tag groups banding together to… do stuff, I guess.
So, how do they do it? Why do they do it? Is it some altruistic sense of justice? Do they just get together for shits and giggles? For a sense of purpose? Or do they just band together for a higher chance of surviving this wasteland and not dying alone?
What stops them from becoming raiders? Is there a difference between a rag-tag group of survivors scavenging from wherever or whoever they can, and raiders that take what they want?
I don’t know and I’m not going to pretend I do. I just want to make it to tomorrow and maybe carve a little cranny for myself out here.
In the wide wide world of the Wasteland I found two things more consistent than anything else in the scarred landscape. The first was raiders. There were always raiders wherever you went. Mean, vicious fuckers that would maim, rape and slaughter entire settlements just for shits and giggles - and not necessarily in that order. I know to avoid them like a Mint-als addict avoids therapy.
The second was friendship. In a world as blasted and torn apart as this one, friendship was as important as finding your next meal.
I never thought myself to have friends, at first. But then again, this wasteland does change you.
~~~~
High above the skies remained dark, the stars glinting like a thousand eldritch horrors watching with indifferent malice. The tall and equally dark alicorn mare stood above a raised platform, the very night itself flowing from her mane and tail.
“You know what needs to be done, Cotton Swodd,” Nightmare Moon commanded. “Burn everything and everypony that refuses to co-operate.”
Beside her was a black-clad pony, wearing a wide brimmed hat and a white, beaked mask. The two round eye glasses were tinted to protect the identity of whatever pony was inside.
The masked pony spoke, the voice high-pitched and almost nauseatingly indifferent. “Of course, Your Highness.”
The Nightmare turned her head, a hint of annoyance flashing behind her eyes. “You are fully aware of the consequences of failing me, correct?”
“I am fully committed to this victory,” the masked-pony said, the voice never wavering or changing pitch.
The alicorn snorted, stamping her hoof on the stone ground beneath her. “Good.”
Below them the tall spires of a fortress stood, undeterred and undefeated, The Armies of Nightmare assembled at its gates. The siege of the Castle of the Two Sisters had begun.
~~~
I am not a smart pony. Okay, maybe some said that I had my moments of brilliance, and overall ponies said I was pretty clever at times, but right now I felt very, very stupid indeed.
Of course, the two saddlebags stuffed full of weaponry, supplies and other knick-knacks coupled with the angry shouts of raider ponies behind was only confirmation of this fact.
“You be stealing from the wrong fuckin’ crew, boy!” one of the raiders yelled out. As if to punctuate his point, several loud cracks rang out as I heard the bullets whizzing past me, impacting in the hard earth in front of me and exploding in geysers of dirt.
I let out a loud whinny, taking a sharp turn to the left just as a bullet impacted where I was supposed to be. Oh Celestia I could have been hit by that!
Okay, so it turns out seemingly abandoned raider camps weren’t always abandoned. Sometimes - just sometimes said camps are usually empty because their occupying raiders were out… raiding.
“I’m sorry!” I yelled back. Maybe they would listen to my sincere apology? “I promise I won’t do it again!” Really! It was sincere!
“Fuckin’ right cause your dumbfuck ass will be dead!”
Okay, I don’t think I really want to respond to that. I took another sharp turn, this time to the right and leapt over an old tree trunk that had probably fallen down decades ago. I yelped as I heard the wood splinter from the rounds impacting into it.
My heart leapt in my chest as the tall walls of my destination came into view. Hooflight Village - a simple trading post and refugee post, where I was certain I could offload this scrap. Bowing my head low, I poured all my strength into my hooves as I galloped forward across the flat plains.
“Don’t let ‘im get away!” a raider yelled. Okay, yeah, I was well aware they didn’t want me getting away, which is exactly why I was determined to do just that. I knew what raiders did to other ponies. Well, rather, I’d heard the stories - some of which still give me the shivers.
Of course, I had proven extremely lucky in that regard - I’m proud to admit that not once have I been caught by raiders during my scrapping escapades, despite my inexplicable bad luck in pissing them off en-masse.
“Oh fuck me sideways…” I swore under my breath. How in Celestia’s name was I supposed to make it over 200 yards without getting shot? Even with the comically bad aiming of my would-be killers?
~~~~
“Lucky Shoes, you’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.”
“I know!” I yelled out, stamping my hoof onto the floor. It took the sharp pain shooting up it to remind me of my momentary lack of judgement. I let out an involuntary hiss of agony as I pulled it back up again, resuming my task of wrapping the bandage around the lime-green appendage.
Figures it would be a stray bullet from one of the town’s guards that hit me. At least the raiders scattered the second the armed residents of Hooflight started unloading their guns at them.
“It’s a nice haul you managed to get this time,” the other earth pony stallion said, sifting through the mess of items unloaded from my saddlebags. “Although next time, try not to bring a gang of raiders with you. I nearly shot you!”
I glared daggers at the red-coated stallion, holding up my injured hoof at him. “You DID shoot me you lummox!”
He leveled a flat stare at me before glancing down at the wrapped appendage, then shrugging and continuing to sift through goods, this time counting the ammunition. “Good thing Bardy recognised you, else I’d have put a bullet in your skull.”
I grumbled softly, tying off the bandage and standing up. Testing my weight on it, I winced slightly but found it manageable. “That damn griffon probably waited till the last second before telling you it was me.”
“Probably.”
I shook my head. Streetlamp was as odd a pony as his name suggested. Mostly he just seemed overly indifferent to the world. Even so, he was a competent scrapper and overall an okay shot with a rifle.
“So, what do you think it’s all worth?” I asked, maintaining a hopeful grin on my face. I had a good idea of the answer already, but there was always room for barter.
“Well, most of this scrap is just that: scrap. The guns are sorta working and the med supplies are either half-used or soiled.”
My grin faltered slightly. Drat - I was hoping he wouldn’t notice all that.
“Still, there’s some ammo in here I can use in other guns or just strip the brass and powder from it for Bardy to make other rounds.” He stood up from nosing around in the now neatly assorted junk. “Hundred and fifty caps is about as much as I can offer for it all.”
“Ah… shit,” was all I could say. I suppose he was being generous with his offer. It wouldn’t buy me a battle saddle or any decent weapon, but at least it was a start. “Tell you what, make it 120 and boarding for the next few days.” I lifted my injured hoof and dangled it in front of him. “You know, to give me some time to heal.”
Streetlamp’s face contorted into a slight frown and I felt my hopes and chances slowly drain away. “Hundred and ten caps.”
“Deal.” Shit. I didn’t even negotiate how long I could stay. Probably best I don’t mention that to him… Or that I had stolen this from a raider camp. I don’t think he’d be too pleased if any potential raiders over the next few days were knocking on the door because of me.
~~~~
On the plus side, I had enough left over caps to buy myself a rickety and old six-shooter revolver. The mouth-trigger had rust on it and left a bad aftertaste and the sights weren’t zeroed-in properly - but it was a gun and I had a fair amount of ammunition for it.
On the minus side, Streetlamp had found out where I got the salvage from.
“Now, I’m not angry at you,” he said. His tone really didn’t say otherwise, either - he just sounded his indifferent self. “But I reckon that the raiders around this area are probably going to be on the lookout for ponies like you. Some of my boys are none too plussed about having their stomping grounds out-stomped, so I think it’s best you leave for a while to let things simmer down.”
I still had the option of staying in the town - for a price of course - but I don’t think the other scrappers would appreciate a careless oaf like me hanging around.
I heaved a sigh, ignoring the sound of the steel gate locking shut behind me. I jostled my saddlebags, just to make sure everything was there, before pulling out a faded square of parchment, squinting to read the faded map.
The Wasteland was large and I had a destination to be at.
~~~~
Protip: When you’re leaving a safe encampment to raider-infested lands, try to leave in the opposite direction of the last bunch of psychopathic ponies you had pissed off.
“Shitshitshitshitshit!” I swore loudly at myself. My hooves were shakingly badly, barely able to reload the six rounds into the rusty revolver.
“Got you now, boy!” I heard one of them shout, before a few more bullets ricocheted against the old sky-wagon my back was pressed against. My first six shots had been wasted, blind-firing behind me as I slid into this hiding spot.
I pulled in a deep lungful of air, ready to bellow my threat at the raider ponies. “Go away!” I managed to squeak in a less-than-manly voice.
There was a few moments of silence, the only sound I could hear being my heart thumping in my throat. That… went better than expected, actually. At least I managed to say something.
A loud burst of laughter from behind me interrupted my train of thought. Wait...the raiders were laughing? At me?
I felt my face grow hot. So what if I had a high-pitched scream? Genetics doesn’t play fairly to everypony! My embarrassment very quickly turned to anger. Oh, they would rue the day the decided to mock Lucky Shoes!
Revolver gripped tightly between my teeth, I whipped my head around the corner of the sky-wagon and aimed down the irons sights. The first crack from the pistol went wide, pinging off an old refrigerator that somepony had decided would better live its life outside.
The second shot (And I swear, I didn’t adjust my aim - the revolver was just that inaccurate) scored a hit. I didn’t have time to cringe at the loud ‘splortch’ noise his head made as the back of it exploded from the impact of the .38 caliber round. Expectedly, he fell down like a sack of wet flour.
The second raider was similarly treated as two bullets ripped through her crude barding and into her chest. Her eyes widened briefly in panic before the life flickered out out of them, blood gurgling up and through her mouth.
The fifth bullet decided it would be funny to impact a long-faded sign with an advert for Guns and Bullets, an old pre-war book.
With a snarl the third, and last, raider pony raised the baseball bat clenched in his teeth. His friends were the ones who had guns and all he had was a bat with old nails driven through it.
I took careful aim, my tongue depressing the trigger.
*Click*
“Oh horsefeathers!” I screamed loudly. Very quickly, I holstered the revolver before glancing up at the charging raider. He was the only one without a gun, which means I could keep my distance and stay safe. But leaving him alive would mean he could run back and call some friends for help.
My eyes darted around the ground, scanning for anything I could use as an impromptu weapon. Spotting an old stop sign, I gripped it in my teeth and hoisted it up. I was barely able to catch the flash of surprise in his eyes.
CLANG!
The rusted red surface met the face of the raider as he ran head-first into it, leaving a dent in the shape of a muzzle imprinted on it, the raider knocked out cold. I blinked a few times before dropping the sign and bending down to examine the now unconscious pony.
“Huh.” Raiders were oddly adorable when the slept. In a creepy, murderous sort of way.
I shifted my eyes left, then right, looking out for any witnesses, before completely stripping all three of any valuables they had. The leather barding would prove useful, however it would need a good clean before wearing it would be safe.
I winced, my still-healing hoof shooting a twinge of pain up. Yeah… I didn’t feel like getting shot again.
I left the blood and grime stained armour behind, picking up the ammo and guns they had. One of them had an unused healing potion which was very quickly put into one of my quick-access pouches along my saddlebags.
Bagging what I needed and discarding everything else, I turned to leave towards the ruins of Baltimare. I gave the unconscious raider one last look before shaking my head. I couldn’t bring myself to execute him, not like this.
I pulled out my map again.
~~~~
The Baltimare Fringe Exchange was exactly as I had left it last time: poorly guarded, filthy and practically a nest for resting raiders. I had to be careful with who or what I bumped into, but at least caps always flowed freely here.
The entire Exchange was built around the Northern edge of Baltimare itself, consisting more of shacks and shanties than actual habitable buildings. The odd, occasional bunker had been converted into a bar or an overnight shop.
Luckily for me, the unsavourables usually kept to the outskirts of the Exchange, the richer traders keeping to the inner circle with some hired muscle for protection.
The Battered Breezie was my destination, one of the many watering holes of the Exchange. They had some of the best pre-war ciders and spirits and even had their own small distillery. Of course the mercenaries hired to protect the joint were paid in both caps and booze.
I nodded at the burley griffon and earth pony standing at the entrance. “Sierra, Slate. Nice to see you again.”
The two glared at me for a second before stepping aside to open the door wordlessly. Flashing a (mostly) sincere smile, I stepped inside. Inside was about as much as you could expect from an establishment that sold alcohol: drunks, bad music, tobacco and ass-fuckery from said drunk patrons.
A hoof immediately blocked my passage, causing me to jump back in surprise. “You know the schtick, bags and weapons stay at the door - caps only. You’ll get ‘em back on your way out.”
I nodded, allowing the burly unicorn to lift my bags off of me. I shivered, feeling almost naked without them. They held my worldly possessions, as little as they were, and I had fought hard to earn most of them. “No caps with me today, I’m here to speak to Pickle.”
The bouncer nodded and removed his leg, allowing me entry. I was almost bowled over by an earth pony buck, a particularly drunk mare held by the scruff of her neck in his teeth. “Out you go!” he yelled, literally flinging the screaming mare out the open door.
I caught a glimpse of her standing up and taking a step back towards the door, before Sierra decked her in the teeth with a dispassionate grunt. The griffon shook her claw before resuming her post, the offending pony now an unconscious heap on the dirt.
I looked around, searching for Pickle before I found the root-green mare behind the far end of the bar, polishing a chipped glass. Sidling up to the counter, I saw on one of the make-shift bar stools: an upturned bedside table with a stained pillow stapled to it.
“What can I get you?” she asked in a raspy, accented voice. I strongly suspected years of guzzling alcohol and living up to her namesake has had an affect on it. I frowned slightly - she didn’t even bother looking at me, instead paying more attention to the already clean glass in her hooves.
“It’s me, Pickle,” I deadpanned. She quickly turned, her face brightening into a warm smile.
“Lucky!” she almost cried out, setting the glass down. Before I could respond she leaned over the counter. My heartbeat quicked as her forelegs wrapped me in a vice-like hug. The moment it loosened I squirmed away from her, trying my best not to show my sudden alarm. A few repressed memories threatened to well up, but the experience was over before I could even properly register it.
“Pickle, please don’t hug me like that…” I breathed, taking a shuddering breath. I had my own personal space - and I liked my personal space a lot. Pickle had a habit of invading it.
“Oh posh, you’re just so adorably huggable,” she said brightly, very clearly ignorant of my discomfort. No, she just didn’t know what personal limits are. “What can I get for you?”
“No drinks for me today.” I shook my head, leaning down onto the counter. “I’m just looking for Bones.”
Her eyes went wide and instantly I felt a growing worry in my chest. “Haven’t you heard?” she asked. The way her voice hushed only made my worry spike into a momentary panic.
“H - heard what?” I stammered out.
~~~~
When I had first met Bones, I swear I had eaten some bad mushrooms and was hallucinating. It was many years ago, when I was still young and stupid. It was my early days of salvaging, scavenging and scrapping.
The outskirts of Manehatten had always been a dangerous place. Raiders and bandits often roamed the area, hoping to catch unaware ponies desperately trying to make their way to Tenpony Tower.
So when heard the loudest, filthiest and downright blasphemous hollering echoing through the ruins, I had almost decided to just hightail it outta there. But curiosity is a cruel and fickle bitch of a thing to have and I was compelled to satisfy it.
I snuck towards the commotion. Peering around the corner all I could see were a contingent of Steel Rangers standing around a door. I could immediately see they were standing guard.
My whole body was rigid with anticipation. I knew they had a base out here, but what was so special with this building?
A powerful explosion rocked the structure, chunks of it falling off. What caught my attention was the nearly as powerful yelling that came shortly after it.
“YOU FUCKING DIRT-CRUNCHING IGNORANT GRASS HERDERS!” I cringed slightly at the particularly personal level of the verbal attack. What was going on in there?
My answer was half-answered as four of the power-armoured ponies exited the building. They carried a sealed chest, the metal smooth and polished, resting on their backs due to its size.
What followed after them was forever imprinted in my memory. A zebra, short in stature with his mane tied back, held a face that I could only describe as Fury Incarnate.
“There are foals in the building you careless assholes!” he yelled out. His voice was raspy but powerful and he positively quaked with anger. Just behind him I could see the tiny faces peeking out from the doorway.
The Steel Rangers’ response was to ignore him, one of them turning to the other. “Package is secure. Minor resistance offered but the bandits were dealt with accordingly.”
The zebra made no move to stop or attack the Steel Rangers as they simply ignored him.
“Civilian casualties?” one of them asked.
“None.”
The incensed zebra stamped a hoof against the ground. “Only because I hid them away you fuckers!”
The leader of the group turned towards him, walking up. In his power armour he towered over the short zebra, looking down. “You had best watch your tone else you’ll join the bandits that attempted to steal technology from us.”
Whatever thoughts the zebra had been thinking, I could see in the way he trembled he was struggling to hold them back. The Steel Rangers turned and marched off, apparently satisfied that they had claimed whatever lost tech they were after. The zebra kept his hateful stare up until they disappeared.
One by one, the foals under his apparent protection came out from the ruined building behind him. In an instant the anger and fury contorting his face vanished, leaving a worried smile as he turned and bent down to the four colts and fillies.
“Mr. B - Bones,” a unicorn filly stammered. “A - are they gone now?”
I kept my surprise to myself, not wanting to be noticed just yet. That smile of his widened slightly as he gently picked her up. “Yes, they’re gone now. Let’s get you all somewhere safer.”
I was about to back up when he turned towards my hiding spot. “You too, big guy. You can come out now.” My heart leapt in my chest. How did he know I was hiding here? “Hey, I know you’re not going to hurt us.”
I very nearly turned my tail then and there and fled. But I felt compelled to take a step out, levelling an awkward smile at him. “You seem oddly trusting,” I said as I approached them. The foals immediately sought shelter behind the zebra and his legs, there wide eyes peering fearfully up at me giving pause to my advance.
“I find myself a good judge of character,” the zebra said. He held out a hoof. “Bones is the name.”
I hesitantly reached forward, expecting the hoof to mutate or grip me and gobble me up. “Lucky Shoes,” I responded.
Our friendship only got weirder after that. I found out that he had taken it upon himself to find anypony, zebra or griffon less fortunate than himself and look after them. At first I found his naivety heartbreaking, but over time I saw the difference he made to the lives he took under his metaphorical wing. Despite his short stature, he was my senior by quite a number of years.
Pickle was one of those foals he had taken care of. To see the trembling form rescued from a raider camp, too scared to even open her eyes in fear of retaliation, to the proud and confident mare in front of me shone at least a little hope on the Equestrian Wasteland.
So when I had found out that he had gotten himself stuck inside a raider camp I had dropped all of my plans for my friend.
“Why, Lucky. Why?” I was cursing myself. Why was I barging head-first into a raider camp, on my own, with nothing but a healing potion, a rusty revolver and some borrowed leather barding? At least Pickle had fixed the sights on the revolver for me, so I wouldn’t be a complete crapshoot.
We didn’t even know why Bones had tried sneaking into the raider camp. I’d have to ask him later - after I had rescued him.
The wasteland had a stupidly high amount of raider camps in it - did you know that? With the amount of death suffered since the Great War, I’m pretty sure there should be a population crisis.
Apparently not.
The camp itself was built up against a hill, old razor wire laid across haphazardly across various parts of it. My stomach churned slightly, noticing the old bits of flesh and sometimes the occasional limb caught up in the wire, long-since separated from the pony that owned it.
Lucky for me, the psycho raiders who lived there were too lazy to actually post a watch out.
Very carefully, I made my way towards the back of the camp, hiding behind rocks or old crates that had long since been stripped of their contents.
“Hey, Peanut,” one of them said. Heart thumping in my throat, I pressed myself tighter against the crate I was hiding behind, praying to the Goddesses I hadn’t been seen.
“Wot?” another raider replied, apparently having the name Peanut.
“Whatchu think we should do wiff the zebby in the back?” the first raider pony asked. My breath caught in my throat. Bones was here!
“I’unno. I heard they make good slaves - could sell ‘im?” And he was alive!
The two raiders fell oddly silent, the only sound being that of my heart pounding in my ears. Wait, where were they?
Oh shit, I said that last bit out loud, didn’t I?
Before I could react, two mangled and scarred up faces sprung from around my hiding spot. One of them, Peanut judging by his voice, twisted his muzzle into a sadistic smile. “Oi! We gots ourselves anuther one!”
~~~~
I could only thank whatever guardian spirit had decided to watch over me that day that I hadn’t already been gutted. Instead, the two raiders had decided to strip me of my meagre possessions and throw me into a rusty gibbet inside one of the small caves dug out into the hill.
It took a few minutes before my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the dingy chamber. The air was rank with the excrements of past occupants and decay of flesh of those still here.
It seemed I was the only living pony here, considering all the other gibbets I could see were empty. At least the gibbet I was hanging from was not body-tight. It gave me a little stretch room if I needed it.
Groaning loudly, I flopped as much as I could flop in the cage, the old metal groaning with me.
“Shoes?”
My heart skipped a beat. There… there was somepony else in here? How in Celestia’s name didn’t I see them in the first place? Wait, if somepony else was in here with me that meant we could escape!
“Who’s there?” I asked in a hushed whisper, leaning against the bars of my gibbet cage.
“Dude!” the raspy voice called out. I found myself breaking into a grin without knowing it. “What do you mean who’s there?”
I leapt up in the cage, the sheer relief washing through me like a hot bath. “Bones!”
“Shoes!”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, peering in the direction of his voice. Sure enough, I could make out the faint silhouette of a really short zebra, now standing up in a floor cage across the cave. No wonder I couldn’t see him - his short stature had hidden him quite well in the darkness of the cave.
“I could ask you the same thing!” he replied.
“I came here to get you out!”
There was a long silence as I could only assume he was processing this information. Admittedly, given the circumstances, I was doing exactly the same thing.
“Dude, that is the dumbest thing I’ve seen you do in a long while,” he replied a little flatly.
“I know!” I hissed. I know I should have put more thought into this. But I couldn’t leave my friend out here without being able to fend for himself, trapped or worse. Although, hindsight was always 20/20 as they said…
Bones’s voice called out, sounding a lot more level. “Do you have a plan to get out?”
I bit my lip for a few seconds. “...no.” My response was defeated. I hung my head low in the cage and let out a somewhat defeated sigh. “Sorry, Bones.”
Silence filled the cave for a few seconds as I slumped down in defeat. Great. I was barely into my heroic rescue attempt and I was the one needing rescue. Although this time I doubted I’d be lucky enough to dodge the bullets or avoid being sold off to slavers.
Slavers…
A dark fear grew in my chest. No… I didn’t want to end up like this. I had become so self absorbed in saving Bones, I hadn’t even paid attention to what was truly happening to me...
I could feel a cold sweat breaking out over my entire body. My eyes darted around, suddenly taking in the metal bars pressing in from around me. No...nononono no I couldn’t end up like this. I couldn’t end up in some gilded cage!
I barely noticed the terrified whinny tearing itself from my throat as I reared and bucked against the back of the cage, a loud clang ringing through and echoing against the walls.
“Lucky?” Bones’s voice barely registered as I raised my front hooves and smashed against the gate of the gibbet. Holy fuck why did it seem so much smaller now? Over and over I beat against the rusted metal bards. I’m sure Bones was calling out to me, but I couldn’t even feel my heart beating let alone hear anything in the outside world.
I had to get out! Oh Celestia please I needed to get out, I cou -
“SHOES, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY STOP!”
The piercing cry from Bones pulled me away from my rage. Hot tears blurred my vision and my throat was dry and sore. I had been… crying? Screaming?
What happened?
I blinked away the remainder of the tears, my front hooves hurting more than they should have.
“I - I,” I stammered weakly. “I’m sorry, Bones…”
“That’s fine,” his calm voice said. “Just… please calm down so we can think of a way out of here.”
I didn’t say anything, just making a weak ‘mmhm’ sound of agreement. The metal bottom of the cage seemed oddly bent after my assault…
“Wait, Bones, I have an idea,” I said. Hope crept into my voice as I examined the edges of the cage a little better. “I reckon with a good enough bucking I could break out of this thing.”
“Well, with your hollering two moments ago, if the raiders were going to check out the racket they would have come already,” Bones said. He was right, even if I didn’t remember the full details of my breakdown.
Why did I break down like that…?
I’d have to dwell on it later. The hinges to the door looked like a particular weak spot, considering that only one of them was actually secured. Turning around, I reared my hind legs as much as I could given the small space…
And unleashed a mighty earth-pony kick directly against the remaining hinge of the gate. My ears flattened as I cringed against the sound of the metal snapping under the impact. I caught my breath in my throat, swivelling my ears around in the sudden deafening silence.
“Think they heard that?” Bones asked.
I waited a few more seconds, before shrugging. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
The cage door, now only held on by the lock, swung open easily. Hopping down from my cage I shivered as the feeling of freedom washed over me. It was like a weight being lifted off my shoulders that I didn’t even know was there.
Carefully, I made my way towards Bones, trying to ignore the rotted carcasses of once-ponies around me, while pushing the memory of the gibbet to the dark recesses of my mind.
Bones broken into a wide grin as he saw me approach, and it was difficult not to return a similar grin back at him. “My hero!” he said in an overly dramatic voice, feign-swooning as I started fiddling with his lock.
“Damn, your cage is a lot sturdier than mine,” I said in a low voice, abandoning the padlock and turning to face the entrance. Strangely, still no raiders had come to investigate us. “I’m going to have to search for the key.”
Bones sat down, a flat look on his face. “Don’t you worry big-guy, I’ll be right here.”
I nodded at him as I started making my way. “Sit tight.”
He called out, causing me to stop and look back at him. “Just be careful, Shoes.”
I stared at Bones for a few seconds longer before breaking out into a grin and shaking my head. “Nah.” I turned from him, crouching low as I approached the entrance of the cave. My smile faltered for a moment before I decided to let it slip away completely.
It still felt too easy - I had created a massive racket breaking out of that cage and still there was no sign of the raiders who had captured us. A shiver ran up my spine, making my fur stand on end.
The mouth of the cave was similarly quiet and abandoned. I found no signs of any other ponies.
Pressing myself against a large rock, I made sure to keep my mouth shut this time as I peered over it. Okay… so there was the camp. An old fireplace still had a few embers glowing in it and and a severely charred rat was skewered on a stick, hanging above it.
My stomach gave an involuntary grumble. Celestia above, I only just remembered that I hadn’t eaten since Hooflight…
I shook my head. No, I’d have to worry about food after I got Bones and I out of this forsaken place.
Checking around the rock again, and satisfied that the coast was clear, I crept into the camp’s clearing. It was fairly open, with a makeshift covering made from an old mattress and some sticks.
A grin leapt to my face as I saw a set of familiar saddlebags. Rushing over, I quickly opened them and let out a massive sigh of relief. The raiders hadn’t taken anything. Rummaged, yes, but all my belongings were still there.
Setting them back on, I turned to rustle through the rest of the odd items lying throughout the camp. Besides the rat-on-a-stick, there was very little worth noting. Some empty healing potions, some old ammunition (Which I promptly pocketed. The blasting caps would come in use for making new bullets) and a small shovel.
“Shit…” I swore under my breath. The keys weren’t here. Maybe the two wastelanders had it with them? Celestia, I hope they didn’t. I really didn’t feel like having to shoot more ponies today…
I hid behind another rock on the far end of the camp, again peering over to see if the coast was clear. I released the breath I was holding (again) at seeing another empty part of the campsite a few yards away. Where in Equestria was everypony? Were they out busy patrolling?
Making my way to the second campfire, I kept myself hidden behind one of the empty crates. Hey, I knew this crate! This was the one I got captured at! That meant I could see the entrance to the encampment from here.
...And still nopony in sight. I sighed loudly, no longer trying to hide. Coming out from behind the crate, I scavenged around the second campfire area.
“Huh, this is strange,” I said to myself, fishing out a thick book from a particularly battered chest. The cover was bound in a thick material, although it wasn’t leather. “Looks like a diary.” Who would have left this here?
I opened it up, reading inside the cover. “Doctor Cotton Swodd. Return to Canterlot, Upper Gardens, Number one Ascott Lane.”
I frowned in confusion. What in Equestria were wasteland raiders doing with a book like this? And who the hay was Cotton Swodd?
My heart skipped a beat as I heard voices in the distance. Quickly pocketing the book into my saddlebags, I dove into the chest and pressed myself against the floor of it. Oh no please not now. I clenched my eyes tight, listening intently as I heard a group of ponies trotting back up.
“So, Peanut, what’s wiff your name?”
“Huh?” Peanut responded, making a fairly stupid noise. “Wot do you mean? I’m Peanut Butter. Family name.”
A third raider pitched in. “Yeah, but doesn’t being called a peanut make you feel a little silly?”
“No. It’s my name, Peanut.”
Seriously? They were having this conversation now? Why couldn’t they… go somewhere else? I don’t know, maybe off of a cliff somewhere?
“Hey, wos that?” Peanut said. I could almost feel the other raider ponies tensing up. Oh Celestia please not now. Please don’t catch me again I couldn’t afford to -
“OH FUC - ,” one of them yelled, before his voice turned into a strangled cacophony of screams and gurgles.
The other two started screaming. My body jump several times as a few cracks from their pistols sounded, almost expecting some of those shots to rip through me at any second.
Then I could hear it: a rip-roaring burst of energy tearing through the air before it impacted on another pony, his screams gurgling up his throat before silence. I hesitated a peek through the crack of an opening, only to see two piles of ash and the third one being hit by another energy beam and vapourised like the other two.
My breath was caught in my throat. Energy weapons? Who the hay had enough caps for energy weapons around these parts? Oh Sweet Celestia please don’t find me…
There! I could see it, two ponies hidden inside a pink bubble, slowly marching towards the campsite.
I was holding my breath consciously now, heart beating in my throat and my mouth dry.
The bubble flickered and winked out, giving me a better look at the two unarmed earth-ponies strolling towards the piles of ash. Wait, earth-ponies?
I squinted my eyes, peering at them as carefully as I could. Each had a cybernetic-looking implant on their foreheads, arranged in a star-like formation over their scalp. One held a red crystal and the other a blue crystal, both glowing faintly as they hovered in front of the implant.
I - I had to get out of here! There was not a chance I was going to let some laser-beam earth-pony vapourise me!
Gaging their distance, I carefully lowered the lid closed. Damn, they would see me the second I tried to get out through the top. Turning inside the chest, I tested the back panel of the chest with my hooves.
Oh clouds above thank Celestia! It was weak enough to pop out with a good shove. Scrambling out at a low crawl, I managed to hide behind a few larger rocks just as I heard their voices.
“...I hope it’s here,” the one earth-pony, a mare, said.
“The boss did say the book was here,” the second, a stallion, adding “I don’t want to go back empty-hooved.”
My lips were pressed tightly shut as I clutched my saddlebags close to my chest, my hooves trembling with what was undoubtedly fear. Behind me I could hear the rustling through the crates and chests, even kicking through the ashes and items remaining of the three raider ponies.
“Shit!” I heard the buck cry out. “It’s not here!”
“What’s so special about that book anyways?” the mare asked, ripping the question right out of my mind.
“The boss wants it, Stars-knows-why. Apparently it’s important for the SAMAC devices and for the project.”
The… book? The same book that was in my saddlebags? I was seconds away from jumping out and giving the book over when the buck spoke up.
“Come, let’s go over to the east side and search again,” he said. I could hear his hooves turning in the ground to face their new bearing. “And remember: No witnesses.”
A chill lanced through my stomach. Oh… fuck. I - I could have died going out there…
The mare sighed. “Yeah, I know. Let’s go.”
I swallowed nervously, waiting a few minutes even after I could no longer hear their hoofsteps. My legs wobbling underneath me, I unsteadily removed myself from my hiding spot. Gulping noisily, I took a step before almost collapsing from my suddenly weak knees.
~~~~
I snuck back into the cave. The key was very easy to find - apparently whatever weapon they had used only vapourised the pony, not his or her possessions. One of the piles-of-once-ponies had a key on them. I tried not to think what it would have felt like being… turned into that ash.
“Hey, the hero returns!” Bones called out cheerfully as he saw me approaching. His cheerful expression sobered extremely quickly as he noticed the pale look on my face.
I shushed him, keeping my voice a low whisper. “Not now, we need to get going.” I’m sure he noticed the serious tone in my voice, as his expression hardened slightly, giving a slight nod. I let out a relieved sigh as the lock clicked open. Almost automatically I pocketed the lock and key into my saddlebags.
Swinging the gate open, I helped the zebra out as we made our way to the cave entrance in complete silence, but of us low and on the lookout for any others.
I grimly thought back to the book still sitting snugly in my saddlebags, and to how the two augmented ponies had easily dispatched the raider ponies. They had probably exterminated the entire encampment.
For whoever to send two such heavily augmented soldiers…
Just what was in that book?