Chapter 1: Seeding

"Here," I announced, tamping down the soil next to the seedling, "You can start watering now."

A pitch-black night enveloped us, with only the oil lamp resting nearby on the ground managing to cast a feeble light within a radius of the nearest ten meters. In its glow, I could distinctly see my companion, waiting for me to finish my part of the work in nervous silence. The ginger earth pony, clad in an old blue coat, took the handle of the watering can in her teeth and moved even closer to me to water the seedling. My eyes fixed on the salad-colored scarf tied around her neck like a tie before lifting to her cowboy hat, covering her blondish mane. It was peculiar to see these extraordinary creatures wearing rather human clothing.

The pony carefully tilted the watering can over the seedling, and from it, a liquid gleaming with a golden light poured out, looking as though it were molten sunshine. This substance was what kept us alive. Once the watering was done, my partner wisely stepped back a few paces before placing her tool on the ground. Knowing what would happen next, I straightened up to my full height and followed her lead. After all, the flora needed space to fully bloom.

The golden liquid disappeared entirely beneath the earth, and suddenly, before our very eyes, a bright light burst from its depths, enveloping the seedling in a magical flare, causing it to grow into a massive corncob in mere seconds, towering over my partner. From its pointed tip, a stem shot out, widening into a sort of scoop at the end, with which it effortlessly extracted a large grain from itself. It was ready to hurl it at any enemy, like a catapult. However, there were no targets at the moment, and this plant knew it because, like all its kind, it had eyes.

I had grown accustomed to this, but it never ceased to amaze me. These plants resembled fauna more than flora; they could make certain movements, had vision, and, it seemed, even some level of intelligence. The only things they couldn't do were walk and talk because they lacked the necessary organs. As an agronomist who had ended up in Equestria through an exchange program, I was simply astounded. Three more corncobs, planted just south of the barn moments ago, looked exactly the same. We couldn't plant any more in that direction.

"Ya reckon this here's gonna be plenty?" the pony in the hat suddenly inquired, her gaze still fixed on the rapidly grown corncob.

"I hope so, Applejack," I replied almost impassively. Spreading my hands, I added a rather bleak argument: "At least, this is all we can plant here. Otherwise, we'll have nothing left for the coming days."

"Yeah, them attacks ain't likely to quit any time soon, and we ain't got all that many seedlings," Applejack muttered tensely, before wearily exclaiming, "Why in tarnation do they come a-chargin' at our farm like parasprites on the crop? We ain't smearing it with apple jam, are we?"

After listening to her folksy aphorisms, I silently grinned. I always found it amusing that this pony spoke with a charming southern drawl and could put words together in all sorts of expressions, a skill she clearly inherited from her grandmother. It was quite remarkable that the inhabitants of this unusual world spoke a language identical to our English. But, considering this was a parallel world, anything was possible. However, now was not the time for contemplation about local realities…

"You know the answer," I replied succinctly. As I looked at her and our eyes met, I somberly added, "They need our brains."

"Ah know, sugarcube," she nodded grimly, then cast her gaze downward, fixating it on the ground. "It's just that I still cain't rightly get my head 'round it. Ponyville's plumb deserted, we're on our lonesome on our farm, and almost every dang night, these hordes of zombies come at us, may their Poison Joke get 'em! It's pure chaos!"

"Reality is often crazier than one can imagine," I spoke emotionlessly. Indeed, after our scientists on Earth had discovered the portal to an alternate reality, a world of magic and sentient little ponies, I was convinced that nothing in life would ever surprise me again. Nevertheless, I couldn't deny that the disaster that befell us was driving me as insane as it was my friend.

No one was prepared for this. And to this day, no one knew even why it happened. Only at some point, through the portal that connected this world with my native Earth, which was located deep within the Everfree Forest, hordes of the undead began to invade. You might think that for some reason there was a zombie apocalypse on my planet, which was once so beloved by our science fiction enthusiasts. And the mischief of our world immediately spilled over to this one, which had become my new home.

Whether some unicorn who ended up there, like I did here, through an exchange, misused some dark spell, or whether one of our brilliant minds managed to create some virus that began to infect people all over the world and turn them into walking corpses, or whether something else insane occurred in my former home. I still puzzle over the cause of this nightmare, but I only knew one thing for sure – they wouldn't leave us in peace and would keep advancing on Sweet Apple Acres until they swept it clean.

This is what happened in Ponyville over two months ago. Suddenly appearing in unprecedented numbers, hordes of the undead descended upon the interdimensional border post located right next to the portal within the walls of the recently renovated castle, where, as I was told, the local rulers once resided. They wiped out almost all the ponies and humans who maintained the connection between worlds, and the few who managed to escape to the town barely had time to deliver the terrible news before it was evident to everyone, confirming their seemingly insane babbling.

It was on a late July night. The undead horde roared like thunder under a clear sky; they attacked the local residents and their households. They devoured crops, assaulted ponies, and the very few humans who lived here alongside them, killing them and feasting on their brains. As if hunger had seized the dead, which in itself seemed absurd. Many fell victim to this horror, and survivors were saved only by the sudden onset of morning. The zombies hastily retreated, and those who hadn't managed to do so withered away. The light of the local sun proved fatal to them.

However, the threat was far from over. In the shadow of the Everfree Forest, they were teeming, and that's not even considering that on Earth, they likely had a vast reserve always ready to replenish their countless horde. The world was quickly engulfed in the expansion of death, and the ponies were forced to take emergency measures. As a result, the last line of defense against the undead in these parts became Sweet Apple Acres, and its only defenders, no matter what, continued to be me, my partner, and our garden of magical plants, which had become our only hope for survival…

"That's fer sure," finally agreed the ginger pony, probably going through all her past dangerous adventures in her mind, which, as she told me, she had previously experienced with her best friends. But from her emerald eyes, it was clear that nothing crazier than a real war with zombies had ever come her way. Glancing around the surrounding corncobs once again, she quietly said, "It's a good thing Twilight came up with usin' her magic on them sunflowers. Without all these plants, our song would've been sung a long time ago."

"And they are running out," I remarked with a grim irony. Another weary sigh escaped from Applejack's lips.

"Ah reckon we gotta use a bit of that solar water on our home seedlings. 'Cause without it, our seeds might just run out real quick. What's the use of savin' water if there's nothin' to water with, huh?"

"I told you to place garden dwarfs around the yard," I joked with a sarcastic tone, placing my hand on the top of the axe attached to my belt. It was a Canadian model from my world. In response to the skeptically raised eyebrow, which the pony used to express her lack of understanding, I continued in the same emotionless tone: "Who knows, perhaps this water would work on them too? They'd come to life, turn into a mighty army of dawi, and I would lead them into battle against the zombies with this axe as if it were the axe of Grimnir himself."

Having heard my frivolous desires, AJ demonstrated her confusion even more expressively. She had always been an extremely practical pony, and when it came to serious matters, just like now, jokes seemed entirely inappropriate to her. In fact, she often just didn't understand them. Perhaps it was due to my rather insipid tone.

"Y'know, sometimes ya spew pure hogwash," she noted with her characteristic sternness, to which I simply shrugged.

"Don't nitpick; I'm just a little on edge."

"Me too," the blonde admitted, nodding in understanding at my state. Although she understood my condition, she didn't share my particular interest in fantasy. By the way, it took her a while to find out that her older brother was indulging in role-playing games on a similar theme, sharing his hobby with two of his buddies. It has to be said; it's quite a peculiar company…

But, returning to the pressing issue, I agreed with her. Even though we were conserving solar water, which turned various plants into reliable defenders against zombies, it was definitely worth spending some on seedlings that these precious seedlings were preparing for defense against the undead attacks. Like her, in my thoughts, I had already given credit to Princess Twilight Sparkle, whose magic made our sunflowers capable of producing this water, extracted from their seeds, much like sunflower oil. However, the idea to do this belonged to Fluttershy, a devoted lover of various flora and fauna.

This laid the foundation for the defense that Applejack and I have continued to uphold to this day. It's astonishing how the magic of the local ponies – this strange but remarkable energy – can do the impossible, transforming ordinary garden and orchard plants into warriors, real champions of life in the face of the grim visage of death! But, as the catastrophe engulfed the entire world, and Ponyville found itself in an extremely dangerous zone, the Princess of Friendship and the rest of my partner's friends, like almost all the town's residents, urgently relocated to the nearby capital, Canterlot.

Nevertheless, leaving all of Ponyville was out of the question, and it was all because of the Apple Family's orchard. In the face of zombie attacks, the world of little ponies could face starvation, making apples more valuable than bits. Thus, to protect them, there were us, some townsponies who chose not to leave their homes, and a security detachment of guards sent here by the ruler of this wonderful land – Princess Celestia. However, the attacks by the walking dead were frequent and massive. By the time we managed to establish a somewhat reliable defense using plants, most of the remaining ponies in town had perished. In the end, only she and I were left.

The worst part was that with the onset of death in this world, even the nature of its magic began to change. I'm not exactly sure how to explain it, and my friend just shrugs her hooves, being a simple earth pony. But gradually, a certain corruption began to spread among the hills here – a deathly greenish haze that enveloped the lowlands. It was established that living beings caught within it perished very quickly, as if from suffocation, and after some time, they replenished the ranks of the zombie horde. The spread of this corruption, as far as I can tell, was slow but steady, which is why Ponyville was cut off from Canterlot five weeks ago. It seems to me that this is precisely why we haven't seen anyone alive, except for each other, for over a month.

Previously, a convoy of ponies arrived here every week, hitched to wagons that transported apples to the capital. Fortunately, the current tragedy coincided with the harvest season, and we had no shortage of food. These convoys were always accompanied by the royal guards, and at the same time, they often included my partner's older brother and younger sister – Big Mac and Apple Bloom. They helped supply Canterlot with food, and on their return trips, they brought some things to us, primarily seeds and seedlings from other farms that had not yet been affected by zombie attacks.

Princess Twilight and her friends, in turn, were planning to take on the responsibility of assisting other settlements that were now under attack by the undead, ultimately uniting all ponies to resist the common threat. Applejack and I, on the other hand, were defending what was supposed to save everyone from hunger and death, and the ongoing connection with the capital gave us hope that our situation would soon improve. However, no one had shown up from there for a very long time, even strangely enough, by air. The corruption was spreading in the valley that separated both cities, and it seemed like it was about to engulf Ponyville itself. Fortunately, the Apple Family's farm was situated on a high hill, but our protection from this toxic haze was evidently only temporary…

"Well, alright, less yammerin', more hoofin' it. Let's finish plantin' in a jiffy 'cause, ya know…" Applejack spoke, but then she cut herself off. Her ears perked up, listening intently, and her whole body tensed. I, too, tensed up, and my hand quickly moved down to the handle of my axe. After a couple of seconds of rather ordinary paralysis, she turned her gaze toward me and nervously concluded, "So, ya catch my drift, yup?"

"What are we waiting for then?"

With these words, I immediately grabbed the watering can and lamp, both together, ready to continue. What had once again sent shivers down our spines was a long-familiar yet constantly terrifying sound. At night, from the direction of the Everfree Forest, the muffled yet piercing cries of the undead would frequently reach our ears, as if the very souls from the depths of Tartarus were breaking through, instilling fear down to the bone. Yeah, that's where these unholy creatures lurked, and from there they emerged, seeking to plunge this world into their chaos! Therefore, I wasted no time and carried on with our work.

For the first couple of seconds, AJ stood still. Until now, she had been dragging the watering can in her teeth, but now I had taken on that load. She was a hardworking and very strong pony – both in body and spirit – and her independent nature didn't quite appreciate someone else doing her job. But lately, she had been so worn out that my actions simply left her perplexed out of habit. Finally, she didn't refuse my help and silently followed along.

After all, the ginger pony had to carry a saddlebag filled with seedlings, along with apples harvested from those apple trees that had been watered with the same solar water. And now, with the magic having changed these trees, their fruits had turned into weapons. All it took was plucking a stem from them and hurling it at the enemy, and they would explode with incredible force, annihilating the fragile, decaying flesh. It was simply astonishing what their magic could do, something that crossed my mind every time I gazed at those apples, with their wild grimaces, as if they were crying out for destruction!

Quickly catching up with me, Applejack walked alongside. I discreetly glanced at her and noticed a profound weariness on her face, mostly of a moral nature. Since the day no living soul had appeared in Ponyville, she seemed to wither slowly, although she tried not to show her inner turmoil. I knew very well that she missed her family and friends, but even that was just part of the problem. Most of all, she feared that something terrible and irreversible might have happened to them.

I had been thinking for a while now that it might be worth trying to talk to her about this, to maybe lend her some support. And in that moment, when she was free from the burden of carrying the heavy watering can in her mouth, I felt that I could definitely do it.

"I've noticed you don't often talk about your friends and family, about your separation, and what's happening in your world," I remarked, deciding to start from a distance. However, I've never been particularly good at such conversations. In general, I had already become quite convinced that talking about feelings is inexplicably difficult.

"Well, ya ain't spillin' the beans 'bout yer world either," the pony in the hat calmly retorted. Exchanging glances with me as we walked, she explained, "Ah can reckon how rough it's gotta be for ya now, sugarcube! If them weirdos came from yer world, well, Ah reckon things over there are a whole lot rougher. Don't seem right to me to yap 'bout my own woes when y'all probably got a heap more on yer plate."

In response, I let out a thoughtful hum. It never occurred to me that her silence about her inner turmoil was driven by a simple yet genuine politeness. On the other hand, that's how all the ponies are – generally very kind and courteous. This was one of the main reasons I became intrigued by the exchange program between our worlds and the opportunity to witness something unprecedented, not just for a man but for all of mankind.

For a moment, my thoughts were distracted by a bundle of large logs located to our left, right in front of the freshly planted corn. We had set it up specifically to fend off zombie attacks in case they broke through the first line of defense. If we were to cut the ropes – first on the sides and then in the middle – those heavy logs would roll down and sweep away any wave of attack. Fortunately, the hilly terrain of the farmyard allowed us to perform such a trick.

"I thought you were mad at our world," I said without taking my eyes off the bundle of logs we had just passed. It was difficult for me to express this thought, but I tried to clarify, "If it weren't for the portal between our worlds, that entire horde of zombies wouldn't have invaded your home."

"Well, how can we be sure 'bout what's goin' on in yer world at all? Perhaps y'all humans ain't the ones causin' all this mess. Maybe ya just landed yerselves in a pickle, much like we're in now," Applejack reasoned. Then she confidently stated, "But one thing's for certain, it ain't on yer shoulders."

"Yeah, I guess," I expressed a restrained agreement. While I never felt personally guilty for what was happening, I thought that among the ponies, there might be a notion that this disaster, to some extent, had come about because of humans. At least because we established the connection between us and them. I won't deny it; I was pleased to know that my only close friend for miles around didn't see it that way.

As we descended towards the exit of the farm territory, I continued to inspect our defensive lines on the left. Here, we had left the logs behind and approached the two rows of porcelain roses, which had been guarding this defensive line for the past couple of days, as they were the only plants left standing after the recent attack in the southern part of the yard. Some of their petals had even been quite nibbled on by the undead's teeth. Although this wasn't noticeable in the nighttime darkness, especially because the flowers had curled up and dozed off while everything on the horizon remained calm.

Upon seeing those roses, pleasant memories of how they ended up here immediately came to mind. But that blissful thought was interrupted by the farmer's voice:

"Honestly, Ah miss the girls a heap, Granny Smith, Big Mac… and li'l Apple Bloom," she said sadly. After a second's pause, she let out what had been tormenting her for the past few days, "It's plum loco! Ah don't get it, it's been over a month, and there ain't been hide nor hair of anypony from Canterlot? Ah know that 'corruption' creepin' through the valley, like ya callin' it, but why couldn't they just send some pegasus to give us a holler and say they're okay? And how in tarnation have they been survivin'… without apples?"

"I'd think that the zombies had reached them by now if we hadn't been seeing the lights in Canterlot all this time," I shared my observation, which was obvious even without me pointing it out. We had reached the front line of defense, just dozens of meters from the entrance gate, where all the main attacks from the undead originated. In this spot there was still loosened earth, from which the plants that had recently fallen in unequal combat had been uprooted. "Should we plant pea pods in the same place as always?"

"Well, there ain't nothin' better than what we've had," Applejack responded, which could be considered an agreement. Without further words, I retrieved a small shovel from her bag and began digging a hole for the first seedling on this line, involuntarily thinking about how long it would get to survive. In the meantime, she continued the previous topic, "Them lights are troublin' me too. Seems like there are still somepony hangin' on in Canterlot. But why haven't they reached out?"

Digging into the loosened soil, I formed a small pit and stood there in contemplation with a shovel in my hand. This thought had crossed my mind a while ago, but for some reason, I pretended to have just come up with it now.

"Perhaps they think we're already dead?" I pondered.

"We?" the farmerpony asked, somewhat taken aback by this hypothesis. After giving it some thought, it seemed she had concluded that theoretically, such a thing could happen, although it appeared rather absurd. "But… why, in Celestia's name, would they reckon we've been beaten? If that's the case, what's our plan? How d'ya reckon we let 'em know we're still kickin'?"

"As for the first part," I began to speculate, "if the zombies have already reached Canterlot, they might have a reason to believe we didn't make it. It's certainly strange that they could jump to such hasty conclusions. But perhaps that late summer fire could have frightened them."

That incident kept bothering me. As a result of another attack – currently the most massive one – a fire broke out on the farm because I made the mistake of using fire against the undead. And the flames completely consumed the nearby carrot field and the pigsty. Fortunately, we managed to save the animals, and we were able to rebuild the shelter for them together. However, that fire was likely visible in Canterlot. And if, after that, hordes of zombies descended upon the capital, which was highly probable, the ponies there might have thought that the fire was a sign of our demise.

"What 'bout the second part?" the blonde inquired as soon as she absorbed the thought I had shared. Simultaneously, she gave me a pea pod seedling from her bag. I took it from her teeth, and for a moment, it seemed like I was dropping out of reality.

"The most obvious way is to set up a signal fire," I mumbled softly. "We still have plenty of hay. We can lay it out on the other side of the barn and set it on fire."

"Yup, and set the whole farm ablaze," the ginger pony retorted skeptically. Nevertheless, the idea clearly piqued her interest, and just a second later, she made her amendment to it, "Well, if we're headin' down that road, reckon it'd be smarter to put together a mighty big torch. It'd shine brighter and ain't as likely to cause a fire."

"You're the hostess here, it's your call," I didn't argue, as I had always recognized her undisputed authority in all matters related to the farm. Besides, I definitely didn't want that fire incident to happen again.

After placing the seedling in the ground, I gestured to the mare to perform the same procedure she had just done with the corn. The watering was done, and after a few seconds of waiting, a cluster of three gigantic pods grew in front of us. From them, like bullets from a magazine, protruded peas. These peas were the plant's fighting power, capable of literally shooting their cores, which regenerated at an astonishing speed, likely due to magic. They were our cannon batteries, so to say, first-order defensive turrets.

"So, ya reckon them zombies could've gone after Canterlot already?" the farmer spoke up again, placing the watering can on the ground once the huge pods had finished their growth.

"We're not that difficult to bypass," I shrugged. "The Everfree Forest covers quite a wide area. They can advance along its entire line. It's been so long since their first appearance that I'd be more surprised to learn that they haven't enveloped the entire country."

"They done spread all over Equestria, yet here we are, holdin' our ground on this farm like nopony?" AJ said with a breath, visibly startled at the thought. "I just can't fathom how we're still kickin' while everything else is goin' down the drain like crops in a locust attack!"

"Even a small rock stops a giant wave," I replied with a barely noticeable smile. Our gazes met once more, and I detected a subtle question in her emerald eyes. "That's from my favorite epic."

Right after my explanation, a warm smile stretched across Applejack's face. For some reason, my interest in literature always endeared her, especially on these gloomy days. Perhaps this trait reminded her of one of her best friends? Undoubtedly, she was one of those who cherished everything connecting them to the past.

"Yer always goin' on 'bout them books like… a-a!" she exclaimed suddenly, fear in her voice, not finishing her sentence when something crashed behind us. Out of fright, she even moved closer to me and clung tightly to my leg, while I once again reached for my axe. However, as we both turned our gaze towards the source of the noise, we immediately breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a bucket by the well falling onto the nearby rakes and shovels. A small dog, accidentally knocking it over, raced towards us. Watching her swiftly dart past us and then sniffing the freshly grown pods, Applejack chuckled nervously, "Oh, Winona, ya sure spooked me good!"

Hearing her name, the dog paused by the plants and approached her owner with a certain innocence in her expression. She immediately stood on her hind legs and, resting her front paws on the farmerpony's chest, began to lick her freckled cheeks, giving her at least a drop of positivity in this dreadful night.

"It seems she's apologizing," I said with restrained amusement when I saw this endearing scene.

"Momma ain't mad," the pony in the hat smiled as she addressed her pet. Then she sat down, gently pushed her away, and began to pat the dog's head, saying, "Who's a good girl, huh? Who's a good girl?"

In response to the owner's questions, the dog sat still, as if at attention. Well, she was our only companion on the farm, not counting the plants that guarded the tranquility of the yard. Moreover, she was extremely helpful in our defense. Somehow, she could predict zombie attacks. If Winona started barking, you could be sure that a horde of the undead would appear in sight within about ten minutes. She had not been wrong once in all these days.

Seeing Applejack cuddle the little dog, I felt the corners of my mouth involuntarily lift. It was amazing that even in these dark and essentially hopeless times, we still had a little room for warmth and positivity. And it was quite natural; otherwise, we would have simply gone crazy. In such moments, I wanted to live more than ever. Thinking about it, I silently retrieved another seedling from my friend's bag and returned to the task. Since I wanted to live, I had to fight for it. Upon noticing that I had started digging a new hole, my friend hurried to join me after giving Winona one last pat on the back.

The work continued, and we went about our task in the prevailing silence. The dog kept circling nearby, diligently sniffing around as if trying to find something of interest in the farmyard. I tried to choose planting spots with enough open space between them. This was important to ensure that the roses, growing behind, could still attack any approaching zombies, and the peas wouldn't obstruct their line of fire. Although they stood on elevated ground, if the enemies got too close to the first line of defense, these gaps could play a crucial role.

To ensure everything was precisely measured, I constantly glanced towards the barn, but my only measuring tool was my own eye. In earlier times, I would have never imagined that I'd have to combine my agronomic education with strategic thinking, something my partner and I had to learn on the fly during this harsh practical experience. Finally, we planted two more pea pods, and after adjusting the overcoat I wore, I moved on to the next position. The ginger pony, unable to bear the oppressive silence any longer, spoke up again on the same topic:

"If them critters really done spread across all of Equestria, from them Smokey Mountains to Manehattan, then I reckon all our work might just be goin' to waste," she mused. "Our harvest, the one we've been collectin' and protectin', it might not be good for nopony except for us. But… nope, Ah ain't even gonna think 'bout that!"

Without going into detail about her concerns, Applejack hung her head, and her ears drooped sadly. I could clearly see that she was tormented by them. The very thought that the entire country might be taking its last breath right now meant that the ponies dear to her heart were either no longer alive, or their time was running out. Our lives, too, had been hanging by a thread for over a month. To be honest, deep down, I felt the same emotions. However, in recent days, I had been feeling more empty than anything else.

"You always said that no effort is in vain," I tried to encourage her, reminding her of the much brighter past. Her gaze noticeably changed.

"Ah know, Ah know," the ginger mare murmured. There was a hint of tremor in her voice. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at me and concluded, "Of course, this here's mighty important, and Ah ain't 'bout to give up the fight. 'Cause, y'see, we're protectin' my family's farm. Just… to be honest, Ah can't see no end to this mess."

To the left, there was a rustling sound that paused our conversation. I shifted my gaze in that direction and noticed Winona diving into the bushes growing near the fence, to the side of the chicken coop for some reason. However, my attention quickly returned to Applejack, who also got distracted by the dog. I approached her, squatting down and placing my hand on her shoulder. She seemed so engrossed in the rustling leaves that she didn't even notice me approaching, causing her to tense briefly when I touched her. Her large eyes immediately fixed on me.

"I can't see a way out of this mess either. But we should tackle our problems as they come, right? Do you remember our main goal?" I rhetorically asked, confident that she understood what I meant but repeating it for the sake of clarity. "I'm here to protect your brain from them, and you won't let them eat mine, will you?"

"Never," Applejack replied with a faint smile. "Ah need ya with yer head on yer shoulders. After all, we're partners in this, ain't we?"

"Absolutely," I affirmed. "It's a two-person job. At the very least, we can only build that torch together."

"Tomorrow, we'll be up with the roosters and get straight to work," AJ nodded, briefly looking away before returning to the matter at hand… or hoof. "But for now, grab that shovel. We got ourselves a whole cabbage patch to plant."

Chapter 2: Building

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What should you know about zombies? They're slow, exceedingly clumsy, and quite fragile, yet remarkably strong. Therefore, if you fail to keep your distance from them, they will quickly tear you apart. This problem was solved by our flora, which was enhanced with magic specifically to engage in an unequal battle with the undead hordes. However, even this approach wasn't a perfect solution. It would be foolish to deny that our magical garden could barely maintain parity, and not every plant survived another attack. When these creatures appeared, they came in large numbers, and their assaults were always destructive and relentless.

Our plants did their best, but due to the sheer mass of the undead horde, they managed to break through their counterattacks, despite their sluggishness, closing in on them and devouring everything in their path, from cabbages to corn. Only the roses somehow managed to survive throughout this time, although they too were severely battered in battles. Because of this, my axe had to taste the rotten flesh of zombies, and Applejack's lasso repeatedly tested their neck vertebrae, proving capable of decapitating them. At the very least, this move knocked them off their feet. Nevertheless, we tried to avoid such close encounters since each of them almost cost us our lives.

Truly, death in their vile clutches is horrible! I still can't get out of my head how three friends, who used to sell flowers in Ponyville – Lily, Rose, and Daisy, perished. I was relatively close to them. It was when I learned that these creatures feed on the brains of the living, but… there was nothing I could do about it. Oh, those three mares once helped me choose the roses that now guarded the yard to the south of the barn. I bought them for Applejack… of course, just to suggest diversifying the farm's flora with something decorative and beautiful. She didn't immediately grasp the meaning of my idea, but eventually gave her approval…

In these thoughts, I was driving nails into the bottom of a wide wooden trough to secure it on the log. It was an improvised tip of our enormous torch, which we had been building all day, even postponing our usual daily work of finishing the autumn harvest. Soon, a fire had to be ignited in this vessel, which would serve as proof to the residents of Canterlot that we were still holding on. As soon as I stopped hitting the nail head with a hammer, I heard a question from below:

"Is it fastened?"

Lowering my gaze, I spotted Applejack in the same place where she had been waiting all this time while I completed my part of the work. There was a five-meter height between us.

"Seems like it."

"Does it seem that way, or is it for sure?"

Here it is – Apples' typical thoroughness in everything related to such an important job as construction. And this ginger pony was more dedicated to it than even all her relatives. Carefully rocking the trough in different directions, I vividly demonstrated to her the result of my work.

"Sure thing."

"Alright," the pony in the hat assessed with satisfaction. "If that's the case, then take the hay!"

With these words, she started to walk around the base of the torch. Watching her for just a second, I spontaneously began to evaluate our structure. Essentially, it was nothing more than a log from the trunk of a regular young tree, dug into the ground a couple of meters deep. To obtain it, along with all the other materials except for the hay and trough, we had to take a risky walk to the edge of the Everfree Forest earlier today. Luckily, there were no monsters there yet; the zombies were hiding somewhere deep in the thickets, seeking shade from the sun. Therefore, I had time to work with my axe.

Once the trees were chopped down, my partner and I had to drag them with great effort all the way to the Sweet Apple Acres. Perhaps we would have finished this work much earlier if Applejack had carried them on her own while I was felling wood. But in the current conditions, we never risked splitting up. We spent the morning gathering materials, and then construction began. Smaller logs were used as supports for the main trunk, ensuring it wouldn't topple due to the strong autumn winds, which were quite common this time of year, or for any other reason.

And so one thick log was supported on all sides by six more. Additionally, a much shorter pole was secured directly under the trough as a crossbeam for a makeshift crane. A rope was slung to the right of it, to which a wooden platform was attached, while on the left side, a counterweight in the form of an apple barrel was fastened. With the help of this contraption, the hay destined to become fuel for the torch had to be hoisted up. That was the task Applejack intended to perform, heading toward the respective rope wound around the stake. After all, carrying it up bit by bit on the ladder where I stood would have been time-consuming and inconvenient.

To our misfortune, it started to rain around an hour before evening, causing both the ground and the wood to get soaked, along with the hay. This not only complicated our work but could also pose an obstacle to kindling the fire… if it weren't for our solar water. As practice showed, it was quite flammable, and it was connected to the incident when our pigsty burned down to ashes. So, I wasn't concerned about the flames. Something else was bothering me, but before I could dwell on it again, my attention was drawn to the farmer, who began her task.

Untied with her teeth the knot that was fastened to the stake driven into the ground, Applejack began to pull the rope with all her might, attempting to hoist the hay-laden pallet up to my height. Until then, it had been secured just half a meter above the ground. Despite their relatively small size, these little ponies were quite strong, especially the earth ponies. Moreover, my friend was toughened by rural labor, so the load confidently ascended. However, as soon as she lifted it a couple of meters, one of her hooves awkwardly slid on the soggy ground, causing her to lose control of the situation.

"Jackie!" spontaneously escaped from my lips, while she emitted only a muffled scream through clenched teeth.

The hay pallet instantly crashed to the ground, causing Applejack, who had maintained her grip due to the tension, to be lifted upward to about halfway between the base of the torch and its top. Her hat flew off her head, and she dangled like a pendulum on the rope, clearly stunned by what had just happened.

After the cargo thundered onto the soggy ground, absolute silence fell all around, as if life had hit pause. It's a good thing the pallet didn't shatter. No doubt, one should never work outdoors right after the rain unless it's an emergency. And my partner was probably thinking the same thing… if, of course, she managed to shake off the not-so-pleasant experience of a sudden two-meter lifting so quickly.

"Wait, I'm coming," I announced, hurrying to assist her immediately.

I moved from the ladder to the crossbar where the rope was attached and tried to get my friend out of her quite literal suspended state. Descending onto the log, I wrapped my legs around it as tightly as possible and tried to lift the fallen pallet towards me. Naturally, I understood that I was doing something blatantly foolish. However, in everyone's life, there are moments when they realize they're up to who knows what but continue anyway.

The hay pallet was quite heavy, although hoisting it was not an impossible task. However, my awkward position, combined with the moisture that had soaked into the wood, making it slippery, played a nasty, albeit expected trick on me. Because of the weight I was strenuously pulling towards me, I suddenly spun around the crossbeam, and my descent began in an instant, while my partner's ascent continued. In a fraction of a second, I managed to notice that she was about to collide with the pole. To prevent that, I released the rope at the last moment. Luckily, I landed right on the hay.

After experiencing a relatively soft landing, I instantly rose to my feet and glanced at Applejack. She remained suspended on the rope at the same height as before my failed attempt to resolve the situation. I immediately rushed to help her, this time more effectively, and within a few seconds, my outstretched arms were around her waist. She was tense but not clenching the rope with her teeth in a death grip, which made it relatively easy for me to take her down and set her on the ground.

"Are you okay?" I immediately expressed my concern. Meanwhile, I picked up her hat and, after shaking off its slightly dirtied edges, placed it back on her head.

"I'm fine," she exhaled and finally raised her eyes to me. "And y'alright? Ain't hurt, are ya?"

"No," I shook my head. After a brief moment of silence, a soundless chuckle escaped me involuntarily. "If someone saw our acrobatics just now, they probably wouldn't believe that we've been surviving zombie attacks all this time."

"Yup, that was somethin', all right," she chuckled back, a bit nervously. Catching her breath, she changed the subject with a good-natured smile. "How 'bout we give that another shot together?"

Certainly, I accepted her offer without hesitation. With four hooves and two sets of teeth (not to mention four legs), we got the job done faster, more efficiently, and with greater confidence. Once the pallet was hoisted to the top of the torch, we secured the rope with another stake, and it was time for the hay. I climbed back up the ladder and began moving the fuel for the fire into the trough, while my ginger companion waited below, keeping an eye out for any potential threats. After all, those dead creatures hadn't attacked us for three days straight, and such a lull usually meant only one thing – a storm was brewing.

The hay was laid out, drenched with the sunwater I'd prepared in a flask on my belt, and all that remained was to strike a match. There were plenty left in my matchbox, brought from Earth, and I used one to ignite the flame. Once the deed was done and the torch was burning, I descended and quickly stowed the ladder against the barn wall, near the northwest corner where we had constructed our contraption. In the meantime, I noticed that our little company had just been joined by Winona, who had previously been running around in the carrot beds but was now drawn, perhaps, to the newly lit fire.

Sitting at the base of a small haystack, where we gathered hay for the fire, AJ gazed at the top of the torch with a growing sense of inspiration, as if it intensified as the fire lit up. I repositioned the ladder back to its original spot and watched her in awe. She appeared as if she had come back to life, as if she were looking at the spark of our shared hope. A faint smile even crossed her face when she saw the flames reach higher and higher towards the twilight sky. Following her lead, something made me smile too. Well, it had always been heartening for me to see her even a bit happier, especially in these dark times.

After about half a minute, I caught myself blatantly staring at her. And when she suddenly turned to look at me out of the blue, I pretended to make a final adjustment to the ladder and stepped away from the barn wall to join her. Soon, I sat down next to her, and together we stared at the fire. Although at times, I lowered my gaze below and ran it along our structure. In bygone days, I wouldn't even have believed it was possible to build something like this in just one day, including material acquisition. I'd never been a jack-of-all-trades, so in the past, even this unimposing tower would have seemed like a sufficiently challenging project to take at least a week.

During our solitary stay on Sweet Apple Acres, we often found ourselves building various structures. We erected additional storage units for our harvested crops, rebuilt the burned-down pigsty, covered the chicken coop walls with whatever metal sheeting made from whatever we could find in Ponyville houses to keep the zombies from tearing them down and feasting on our chickens, and much more. While I had to learn the ropes of this craft through practice, my friend was just as skilled at it as she was with apples. Well, her skills and organizational abilities in this matter were incredibly valuable to us, and it was thanks to her that we managed these construction projects so swiftly.

Finally, I gazed at the fire once again. Inside me, like the fire, a pleasant sense of accomplishment warmed. Now, I understood more and more why my partner loved working. But, perhaps, above all, it was the faint hope that kept me going, even if it was just a shadow of it, but we could reasonably expect it to come true. Even though it seemed nearly impossible, considering we had been cut off from the rest of the world for over a month. I didn't know the reason for the silence from Canterlot, but I wanted to believe that everything would be clarified soon, and someday we would remember this circumstance as just a notable incident from our past.

"Here we sent our message," I suddenly said, deciding to break the silence after a few minutes.

"Them lights in Canterlot still a-shinin'?" Applejack immediately inquired.

We exchanged glances. Yes, from the top of the torch, Canterlot was visible beyond the sea of the northern apple orchard canopies. The only place not visible was Ponyville, as its houses were nestled in a valley just beyond the high hills. The best vantage point, where you could see the entire Ponyville valley, was from the terrace of the carrot farm building, adjacent to the Apples' estate and not even separated from it by a fence. In the past, a pony named Golden Harvest lived there, but she and her whole family moved to Canterlot along with everyone else. Since then, both farms had effectively become one.

However, while on top of the torch, I saw the most important thing. Therefore, my answer was prompt and precise:

"Yes, they are."

I couldn't stop looking at Applejack as she once again fixated on the flame, but this time with a shadow of sadness on her face. It seemed as if the flickers from the torch were attempting to ward off the encroaching darkness that loomed over her. In vain.

"Ah hope they're all right," she whispered quietly, expressing her deepest wish. She hadn't often spoken about the feelings that filled her, but after our conversation yesterday, she seemed more inclined to share. "Ya know, Ah afraid them lights might just be foolin' us. If yer right about them zombies hittin' Canterlot, those lights could be on 'cause there ain't nopony left to douse 'em. But if that's true, then…"

Unable to complete her words, she merely swallowed convulsively. It was not difficult to understand what emotions she was experiencing and who she was primarily concerned about at the moment.

"So you believe there's no one left alive there?" I asked, thinking that she needed to express herself. I had suspected earlier that this fear was tormenting her. Looking at me again, her expression softened slightly.

"Yup, a plumb silly thought," the pony in the hat conceded. "If day an' night keep takin' turns, it's a sign them Princesses are alive for now. An' if they're alive, Canterlot's gotta be alive in there too."

"And as long as Canterlot lives, Equestria lives," I replied with irony and a touch of nostalgia, referencing a similar saying from my world.

"Right, like a ripe apple!" affirmed the ginger mare, gracing me with yet another sweet smile. With her agreement, she seemed to be seeking more confidence for herself and from me. Still, doubts lingered. "On t'other hoof, they might've trotted off somewhere else, like the Crystal Empire or who knows where. Ah got no clue 'bout how t' explain why day an' night are still doin' their usual switcheroo while Canterlot's quieter than a scarecrow in th' orchard. But… how could they have up and left the city, leavin' us here on our lonesome?"

"Unless they marked us as deceased before leaving," I countered, hinting at my assumption from yesterday regarding the fire. Her mournful gaze returned to me, yet not a single counter-argument escaped her lips. I had to come up with one myself. "But I don't think, at the very least, your friends wouldn't have made sure of that before fleeing. They would have definitely sent someone for us, or they would have found their way here themselves."

"Right, Rainbow Dash would fer sure flown over to us, an' Twilight too," Applejack said, trying to suppress her inner worry. "But, y'know, they might not even be in Canterlot. The girls wanted to round up all the ponies to tackle this disaster all together. Right now, they could be anywhere, in any corner of Equestria. Although, if they pull it off, Ah reckon we won't have to wait long for help. With all of 'em together, they're sure to figure out how to get us out of here. With so many heads, they're bound to!"

"That's when our harvest will come in handy," I added, imagining how much food the city would need when ponies from all over the country gathered.

"Yup, and now they'll know we're still kickin' and that we have it," Applejack concluded on an optimistic note. Following this, Winona approached her, interested in the reason we were sitting on the hay. She sniffed around, searching for an answer to the dog's unspoken question, and her owner embraced her, holding her gently. The dog didn't resist the owner's hug. Holding her in her hooves, Applejack returned to gazing at the fire, and after a quarter of a minute, she suddenly sighed with delight. "It's so amazin'… blazin' like that, Ah'd bet my boots ya could spot it from the Royal Palace windows. And it's got that cozy feel… kinda like Hearth's Warmin' Day!"

"Yeah," I said in solidarity with her. "It's just the company that's missing."

"Why, ain't we company, ya and me?" she kindly countered. When our eyes met again, she couldn't hold back and spoke candidly. "Thank ya for pullin' yer weight with me. Can't imagine what it'd be like if Ah were all alone here."

"I thought I was more of a nuisance to you," I quipped unseriously, alluding to the pigsty fire and a few other incidents that had happened before this catastrophe.

"Don't talk hogwash, sugarcube," she replied good-naturedly, realizing I was mostly joking. "We gotta shield the farm and the crops from them undead critters, and one pony just won't do. Like ya said, this job's for two, ya might say, it's our own seven-legged race, or maybe even a very real friendship mission! Without each other, we'd be in a real pickle. Ah'd be plum lost without ya."

To be honest, her words really touched me. And, as I could tell from her smile and the slightly trembling, beautiful eyes, she had just poured out the most sincere emotions. I could hardly come up with anything worth saying, so I simply wrapped my arm around her shoulder with all the warmth. I didn't often allow myself to hug her since she wasn't one to go for saccharine sweetness. But right now, I could count on her not objecting in the slightest. Then again, all ponies enjoyed hugging, and when it came to friends, Applejack was no exception.

It seemed like she considered me a friend through and through, which made me quite happy. This was evident from the fact that she often called me "sugarcube" in her usual manner. It was a term she typically used to refer to her best friends and relatives, and eventually, she extended that affectionate nickname to me as well. Being her "sugarcube" meant a lot.

"Thank you," I responded to her words. However, her expressions about the fire had me contemplating a bit. Now, as the two of us and the little dog huddled close to each other and warmed ourselves by the torch and our unity, it did resemble that holiday celebrated in Equestria just before the coming of the New Year. With that thought in mind, I decided to suggest something. "Speaking of Hearth's Warming Day… how about we have a mug of hot cider each? I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a bit chilly after working in the rain."

A broad smile spread across AJ's face. Clearly, she liked the idea.

"Ya got it! Just need to fetch a barrel from the cellar, and we can wet our whistles!.."

* * *

"Y'know, as Granny Smith always says, when ya see apples in the cellar, it makes ya appreciate life twice as much," Applejack remarked, walking at a leisurely pace down the central aisle of the cellar and surveying the barrels of the named fruit. I followed behind her. "All these supplies would be enough to fill everypony's belly in Canterlot for a year or more. Oh, Ah wish we could make good use of all this soon…"

"The important thing is for it to go to use at all," I calmly pointed out, surveying the results of our labors over the past month, just like she was. "Don't forget, there are plenty of reasons why we might be staying in this place for quite a while. We're not even sure we haven't lost the reason to protect this stock."

"What are ya talkin' 'bout? We done made our torch, set it ablaze, so now all that's left is for it to be seen," she firmly declared, pausing and looking back at me over her shoulder. As I shrugged in response, indicating no objections, her hooves moved on. "But no matter what, we always got a good reason to defend our stock. We can't just let them zombies have all these apples, can we?"

"I don't disagree."

We were heading towards the end of the cellar, where smaller barrels were standing. Looking at those containing apples, I couldn't help but agree that this stockpile, especially in current times, could be accurately called a treasure trove. All of it was the result of our daily work in the orchard, a workload that was almost non-stop. However, the main burden fell on my partner, who did not want to give the apples to the zombies or time itself, given that the cold weather was approaching.

Meanwhile, I was more on the pickup, though now and then I'd knock some apples from the branches with a pole too. But my contribution wasn't all that grand compared to Applejack, who knocked down nearly all of them with just a precise strike from her strong hind hooves to the trunks. But we divided the task of sorting apples by quality and delivering them to the farm equally. In one month's time, we filled up the entire cellar, with about fifty barrels stored on top inside the barn, and some stashed in the newly built sheds. There was no doubt that with such a stockpile, a hungry year could feed a whole town.

"Ya know, it's real lucky we wrapped up gatherin' from the south orchard right on time," continued the farmer. "My heart'd shatter if them critters got ahold of those apples! Ah'd rather give the harvest to the fruit bats; they're even less voracious than these zombies."

"We're almost done with the north orchard too, so you could say we've got it all taken care of."

"Hold your horses, buddy," she gently chided me for jumping to conclusions. Her little sayings always brought a smile to my face. "We've still gotta tackle 'bout a dozen apple groves, so don't go rushin' into relaxin'. It wouldn't hurt to wrap 'em up pronto 'fore them apples get all overripe. It's nearly October."

"Just two days left," I reminded.

"We'll give 'em our darndest," AJ stated, and then stopped in front of one of the smaller barrels, which she seemed to have noticed right away. After reading the notes with Granny Smith's rather crooked mouthwriting on it, she announced, "Yup, this cider is from the harvest two years ago! Ah reckon it's had a good long time to settle. It's just what we need."

"Need any help with that?" I offered right away as soon as Applejack started maneuvering the barrel to hoist it onto her back.

"Don't ya fret, sugarcube, Ah can manage it solo. Ah've toted them barrels share in my lifetime, you best believe," the ginger pony grinned, and, as she gripped it with her hooves, she added, "Well, ya warm it up, is that okay?"

Chapter 3: Feeling

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Pushing the door open with my elbow, I made my way into the bedroom. In my hands, I carried a tray with two mugs brimming with warm cider and a plate of apple pancakes left from the morning. Once inside, I found Applejack lying on the bed, passing the time with her sewing. She was diligently stitching together square pieces of fabric in different colors, piecing them together into a rather simple looking quilt. Some parts of it seemed almost new, while others appeared a little worn. As soon as I entered, she paused her work and looked up at me.

"There's our modest dinner for two," I announced quietly. Placing the tray on a small table beside the bed, I added, "Bon appétit!"

"Oh, ya ain't forgotten them pancakes, have ya?" Applejack expressed a slight surprise. She had previously set aside the needle she had been holding in her mouth to perform the stitches. I always marveled at how easily these ponies managed fine motor tasks, executing actions using just their hooves and teeth, and getting along perfectly well without the flexible appendages we have as fingers.

"Forget about these? No way," I replied, taking my mug, grabbing just one pancake, and heading to the other end of the room. "I've never tasted anything better than your apple pancakes in my life."

With those words, I made my way to my chair, resting by the writing desk, and lazily slouched in it. This was the spot where I spent my time when I wasn't busy working on the farm with my partner. Nearly the entire surface of the desk was filled with small bags of seeds from various crops, pots of soil, vials of agricultural chemicals, and other things needed for raising homegrown seedlings and breeding. However, on the chair, I immediately turned towards my friend and noticed a bashful smile on her face.

"Thanks, sugarcube," she thanked me for my compliment. Yeah, she definitely appreciated hearing that, judging by the slight blush on her cheeks.

"No need to thank for the truth," I smiled back, and took a sip of cider.

I wasn't flattering her at all. Being a fantastic hostess, Applejack was an excellent cook. Indeed, I had never been fed so deliciously and heartily as on this farm. Perhaps in some sense, the food here was quite simple, but that didn't negate the fact that I always wanted seconds. Furthermore, one could invariably feel that in every dish she prepared, this blond-maned pony put her heart and soul, and perhaps that's what made her such a great home chef.

Interrupting her sewing, AJ quickly took a bite of the pancake that lay above the rest and washed it down with a sip of cider. Without a doubt, she was pleased that I had thought to warm up what was left of our breakfast along with the cider. It was getting late, and she was obviously hungry, especially considering her healthy appetite, like that of a robust stallion. The taste of her own cooking had clearly made her forget all our troubles. Oh, how I wished to see her carefree like this more often! Thinking about it, I suddenly said:

"They could've shown up here by now."

"Huh?" AJ asked, swallowing her bite and adding, "Who?"

"Anyone."

"Ya mean, somepony?"

"Yes, someone from Canterlot."

"It's been too little time," she kindly reminded. "It's only been a short spell since we lit that torch. Just give it some time, maybe a day or two, and somepony from Canterlot to come our way. We just gotta keep that fire burnin'."

"I added some more hay to it," I reported, which noticeably changed the expression on my friend's face.

"Hey, don't go hog-wild on it before it's plum disappeared," the ginger pony cautioned with a hint of disapproval. "That's our grub too, just so ya know."

"Only for you."

"And for everypony in Canterlot."

"Well, for it to be of use, like you just said, the fire has to keep burning," I replied with the same words she had used just moments ago. "It's better to use a bit more hay than to lose our last chance. If we lose that, we lose everything."

"Ah know," the farmer replied with restraint. She usually wasn't one to readily admit her mistakes, but this time, she didn't argue and simply called out, "Just make sure ya keep in mind we're gonna need that hay, okay?"

"No problem," I nodded, taking another sip of cider. Afterward I shrugged and said, "I wasn't planning on using more than we need to keep the fire burning."

"That's right," she said with satisfaction. Following that, her gaze quickly shifted to the windowsill on the left side of the bed, and after a moment's pause, she announced, "Yer funny-lookin' cabbage, by the way, has done some growin'. Looks like it's all set for plantin' in the yard."

I looked at the seedlings we had arranged on the windowsill. Trays with plants barely beginning their lives, nourished by the light from the lamps hanging above them, occupied its entire length. But that wasn't all we were growing in the house. Those adjacent rooms, where Apple Bloom and Big Mac used to sleep, were filled with such seedlings. This is how our peculiar army, guarding the farm and the harvest we collected, was prepared… as well as ourselves. Although, it's worth admitting that we felt a sharp shortage of seedlings growing here. The plants died quickly, barely having a chance to take root in the soil. If in the past, we often planted peas or sweet peppers beyond the fence, now we had to plan our defense exclusively within the yard.

The walking dead attacked us too often, ruthlessly devouring the plants we had just planted. Our situation, perhaps, became more and more hopeless. We tried to solve the problem in only two ways. AJ planned to expand the volume of seedlings by converting Granny Smith's old room for that purpose, while I sought a solution through selective breeding, hoping to give our flora better combat qualities. Sometimes, I would experiment without knowing what the result would be – for instance, not so long ago, I was working on crossing potatoes and tomatoes. It's hard to say what will come of it when it matures, and we water it with sunwater…

At that moment, my attention was drawn to the plants my partner had mentioned. It was Chinese bonk choy cabbage. I brought it from Earth as a gift for Applejack, so she could introduce a new crop into her farm, characteristic of my world. It felt like it had been ages ago! At least, that's how it seemed to me now. Well, the ginger mare was right; the bonk choy seedlings had grown enough to bolster our defenses. On the other hand, I didn't want to think about where exactly to plant them to make them most effective during the inevitable next zombie attack, at least for now.

"Alright," I replied somewhat distantly. "We'll think about where to place them tomorrow."

"It's kinda fascinatin', don't ya reckon, what they'll become when we soak 'em in sunwater?" the blonde asked with enthusiasm, always considering bonk choy a rather unusual plant, as she had never grown anything quite like it.

We exchanged brief smiles. Both of us were curious about what they would turn into. We had never used them before, and these were the first experimental seedlings designed for defensive purposes. However, that was the end of our discussion. After finishing the first pancake, Applejack resumed her sewing, and I followed suit, setting my mug on the table and taking my notebook, which lay nearby, into my hands. A pen was tucked into the spine, and inside rested a pencil, serving as a bookmark. I picked it up, absentmindedly twirling it in my fingers, and focused on the open pages.

In this little book, I kept something of a diary where I briefly described each zombie attack, some events from the past days, and kept a record of my breeding experiments. As for the first part, my notes revealed that our farm had been attacked twenty-three times. Quite a lot for five weeks of being here. Additionally, sometimes I made sketches among my notes of the plants I had managed to develop through breeding. I couldn't be called an artist, but I was fairly good at drawing, and, most importantly, I enjoyed it. So now, the pencil in my hand seemed to fall onto a blank right page all by itself, and I started drawing lines, making a sketch – this time without a specific purpose, just for the sake of it.

Meanwhile, I occasionally glanced thoughtfully at Applejack as she diligently sewed the quilt. She told me that her grandmother had started making it when she was a very young filly. Since then, the Apples had continued working on it during every family reunion, which occurred once every hundred moons, and it had become their tradition. The quilt was never meant to be finished, but it symbolized a collective effort made by the whole family. However, it seemed that now the ginger mare intended to finish it.

It seemed that, internally, AJ no longer harbored hope for another family reunion where they could continue sewing the quilt together. Nevertheless, working on it must have brought back pleasant memories that continued to comfort her during these gloomy days. That's why she worked on it at a leisurely pace during late evenings. Spontaneously, my gaze drifted up directly to the top of the bed, where her hat hung. She mentioned that she inherited this rustic headpiece from her father. I knew her parents had long passed away in tragic circumstances, and in the orchard grew a peculiar intertwining of apple and pear trees that they had planted on the day of their wedding.

My partner often came to this tree, especially on the day after another zombie attack. And although she definitely wanted to be alone in those moments, she always asked me to keep her company. We never dared to lose sight of each other, understanding that we always had to stick together. Even at night, we slept together in the same bed because we simply couldn't fall asleep otherwise. Now, we needed mutual support more than ever. But I never ceased to be amazed by her strength of spirit. She kept all her sorrows inside, and only her visits to the parents' tree revealed her very strong emotions. She told me more than once that the apple trees were strong because of their roots.

Roots, origins… I remembered very well how I ended up in this world, as if it were yesterday. The connection between our worlds was established relatively recently when I received my advanced agronomy education. Learning about the exchange program, I was intrigued by the idea of exploring a new, uncharted world and getting to know its flora. And even though many things here were similar to our world, I never regretted my choice. Nowhere on Earth would I have encountered such captivating exoticism as in Equestria.

Under the mentioned program aimed at mutual world cultural exchange and knowledge, I enrolled in Canterlot Agricultural Academy. Housing costs in the capital were quite high, so in order to make ends meet, I had to take on a part-time job at a pastry shop owned by a unicorn named Donut Joe. I was responsible for making home deliveries of orders. It was always amusing for me to see the reaction of the city ponies when a creature from another world knocked on their doors. It was the only thing that brightened up my challenging daily routine. Although I was exhausted from juggling work and studies, I found it interesting to learn about this world and its inhabitants.

However, luck smiled upon me when a young princess from Ponyville, known for her extraordinary curiosity and, as a result, a keen interest in my presence, found out about me. I was part of the first wave of the exchange, which meant that there weren't many of us humans in this world. Therefore, Princess Twilight Sparkle's interest in me had no bounds. Consequently, she suggested that I move here to Ponyville, where I met her friends. Finally, in that fateful moment when she wanted to show me the orchards of Sweet Apple Acres as an agronomist, I met her for the first time – Applejack.

As a result of our meeting, this lovely farmer warmly offered me a roof over my head precisely because, in her homestead, I could learn more about agriculture in Central Equestria than anywhere else. I couldn't reject her offer even if I wanted to or felt embarrassed by such hospitality. From the very first glance, I felt that something about this pony was drawing me to her. That laid the foundation for my friendship with her and her family. I was grateful to her for taking me in her home… even though I had to commute for my studies from another town since then.

Amid these thoughts, it's as if I didn't notice how my pencil portrayed her on the paper. The sketch depicted AJ peacefully napping right under the apple tree's trunk. Her hat, pushed down to her forehead, covered her eyes, and she held a straw in her mouth. I often saw her like that, especially when she got a little tired from work and, during the midday heat, peacefully dozed off somewhere in her orchard. However, my spontaneous drawing needed something more to emphasize its message and the conveyed emotions. Something that went beyond mere artwork.

By the way, I once developed an interest in Japanese poetry. Some considered it strange, and many didn't understand it, and I was among them until I grasped its underlying essence. Eventually, I came to see that haiku is a unique verbal snapshot of a moment that will never recur, meant to capture feelings that are bound never to return. In the intervals between sips of cider, I crafted three lines to the best of my ability to convey my inner sensations and recorded them beneath the sketch. As soon as I put the period, I silently recited the words to myself:

"Oh, how beautiful!

Lift your hat, my dear, so I

May gaze at your grace."

Of course, I found her beautiful and graceful, strange as it might be, given our differences. All ponies were very charming, but in this ginger mare with a blond mane, emerald eyes, and those cute freckles on her cheeks, there was something special, utterly unique. Even though we were friends, I couldn't deny that I saw something more in her, even if I never mentioned it to her and didn't realize it fully at first. But the following days spent on this farm brought out that feeling in me more and more, especially with the onset of the current nightmare. Once again, as I gazed at my drawing and reread the poem beneath it, I couldn't help but hummed.

"What are ya scribblin' there, sugarcube?" a curious voice suddenly came from the bed, instantly pulling me out of my reverie.

Her question left me somewhat embarrassed. It felt as if her eyes could see right through me. Nevertheless, I attempted to evade the topic, casually replying:

"Nothing much."

"Aw, come on now, ya know Ah can sniff out a fib from a mile off," Applejack reminded me without reproach. "Ya were so wrapped up in it, ya plumb forgot 'bout the cider, huh? Or is that a secret?"

A quiet breath escaped my lips. Naturally, I knew that hiding anything from her was pointless. While her lie detection wasn't always precise, this time she hit the mark. So, I obediently turned my notebook in her direction, thus revealing my sketch. Upon seeing it, she appeared visibly puzzled, and her cheeks flushed slightly from embarrassment.

"Hmm, not bad," she mumbled, which eased my anxiety. However, her face quickly returned to a playful smile, and her eyes squinted mischievously. "How'd ya figure it's alright to draw me?"

Something inside me clicked, and I decided to change tactics. Since the secret was out, there was no need to conceal it any longer. I set my diary on the table, stood up from my chair, and leisurely walked toward her.

"When an artist sees something beautiful, they sketch it right away without asking for permission," I replied, and I could already sense her confusion.

"What?"

I silently chuckled. This ginger pony was quite practical and had her own kind of wisdom, but when it came to certain things, she was remarkably innocent. Sitting down beside her at the edge of the bed, I looked into her eyes and, almost in a whispered, ironic tone, said while shaking my head:

"You're so far from poetry."

"Better keep them poetic nonsense for Rarity or, at least, for Twilight," the farmer mare grinned. "They'd likely find it more appealin', and Ah'm just a simple pony, y'know."

"In simplicity lies beauty," I stated. Then I placed my hand on top of her head and began to gently stroke her mane with smooth motions.

AJ immediately froze at my touch, and she didn't say anything more. Oh, I definitely knew her weakness! Stroking her mane, gently scratching behind her ear… no pony could resist that. As I had already found out, they were very sensitive to all of this, as if human hands also worked magic through contact with their soft coat. And the effect was mutual. These creatures seemed like living plush toys. Touching them was very pleasant, incredibly delightful.

Well, Applejack was by no means an exception to the rule, despite her rather tough character. She closed her eyes and surrendered completely to the pleasant sensations that engulfed her entirely and clearly exceeded even my enjoyment of feeling her incredibly soft and silky mane. And it pleased me even more that, thanks to me, she experienced greater bliss than I did. When my hand slipped behind her ear, she even flinched slightly and tilted her head a little toward me, as if wanting to be as close as possible to these caresses.

I buried my fingers in her hair and gently traced them with the tips at the base of her ear, repeating these movements again and again, and at some point, it even seemed to me that she was purring ever so softly, like a cat. Of course, all ponies are especially fond of caresses in this spot! Having confirmed this fact once again, especially with a mare like Applejack, who was quite distant from such endearments, I couldn't help but stifle a silent chuckle. This made my friend open her eyes slightly and look at me. Despite the fact that in her eyes one could read how all her being seemed to be engulfed in these sensations, she still didn't change her character and, with a smile, said:

"Ya don't reckon ya can wrangle me like a spirited mustang with them scratches, do ya?"

"Relax, rest, and don't think about anything," I whispered, continuing the caress. "If you want to finish the harvest in two days, you need to gather your strength for it."

"Don't ya fret, we'll take care of it," she replied, almost as quietly as my voice sounded, to which I spontaneously retorted:

"Unless our plans are changed by you-know-who."

Unintentionally, it seemed that my statement had dampened her spirits a bit. Sometimes, I can be extremely careless. It was as if she, ignoring the sensations of my touch, cast her gaze downward and fell into deep contemplation.

"Yup, if they attack again before this month's through, we could be outta luck. Apple buckin' season might just have to wait if we're stuck replantin' seedlin's and fixin' up them fences like usual," the blonde mare said with evident discouragement. My fingers moved to her nape, burying themselves in her mane, and froze there. After a pause, she expressed her wish, "If only we had Apple Bloom here, let alone Big Mac! She'd sure make it easier for us to finish up on time."

"Of course, more help wouldn't hurt," I agreed, thinking it was best to support the conversation.

"She could lend a hoof with them plants and chores," Applejack added with even deeper contemplation. Her emotions were clearly visible, something she had tried to keep in check before. Her eyes were slightly trembling, and she drooped her ears before letting out a heavy sigh, "Oh, Apple Bloom… How's she faring out yonder? Ah recollect bein' plumb scared to leave her alone on the farm, not even for a day. But now, it's been over a month since Ah last laid eyes on her. And… Ah mean, Ah'm sure she's fine, just like Big Mac and Granny Smith, but Ah can't help but fret 'bout 'em, 'specially her."

"I understand, you miss her," I nodded sympathetically. I don't think I've ever met sisters like these two apple ponies, so tightly bonded together. Naturally, her feelings about being apart from Apple Bloom were perfectly clear to me. "But believe me, you'll see her again. And your entire family, along with your friends."

"Yer right," she agreed with a hint of sadness. After a brief silence, she couldn't contain herself any longer and shared what was weighing on her, "Ya know, Ah'm plum worn out with this life. Sick of waitin' for somepony to show up, for them little sprouts to grow, for those zombies to come back. We're doin' all we can to wrap this up fast, we even set up that there torch. Ah reckon its light will seen, and help will come our way, but… Ah don't rightly know, truth be told, it's just so doggone tough."

Quite dryly expressing her emotions, Applejack stared at the pots of seedlings on the windowsill and lost herself in thoughts. Because of this, she even flinched a bit in surprise when I embraced her. My hands firmly gripped her shoulders and pressed her against my chest, as if I wanted to instill in her a sense of protection from all the troubles she had listed. Well, that's exactly what I intended to do, and right now, she needed something like that more than ever. Honestly, in the days when I moved in with her on the farm, I never imagined that I would need to comfort her in this way.

"Is this better?" I finally asked, breaking the brief silence. Her response was a slight shift in her posture, and her hooves reciprocally embraced me in an equally warm hug.

"Better," she admitted. "And me too," flashed in my mind as if in response. I must say, her strong hooves held me rather tightly. We warmed each other with our mutual embrace, trying to distance ourselves from what filled our hearts with cold in these bleak times. But at some point, my friend let out a languid sigh and continued to pour her heart out to me, "More than anythin' in the world, Ah'd give anythin' to lay eyes on 'em again, even if it's just a glimpse. Ah know our work's mighty important, and Ah ain't afeard to keep at it right here. But Ah can't shake the naggin' fear that somethin' bad might've happened to 'em. If only Ah could know they're safe and still countin' on our harvest, well… Ah'd be prepared to protect it, no matter the odds."

"Don't worry, everything will become clear," I reassured her, not letting go of her. "You said it yourself, we just need to wait. Our idea about the torch will work, and you'll see them again. Everything will be fine – don't fret. I promise, everything will be okay. Everything will work out…"

I continued whispering words of comfort in her ear, hoping that it would give her even a drop of solace and assurance of something better. At least, personally, it always lightened my heart when she said something like that to me. It was as if her natural inability to lie made such words the most accurate prediction. However, after about half a minute, she suddenly moved away from me slightly. I didn't try to keep her in my embrace, and as a result, we looked into each other's eyes again. But my right hand still rested on her shoulder, where her mane fell down. My fingers still felt its enchanting softness.

To my mild surprise, I noticed tears welling up in Applejack's eyes. They spoke not so much of sorrow as they did gratitude, which was evident in her gaze. She wasn't exactly the teary or overly emotional type of pony, but in that moment, her strong heart gave way to her feelings.

"Ah couldn't have made it through all this without ya," she suddenly said with a faint but incredibly tender smile. Then she repeated what she had told me while gazing at the torch's flames, "Honestly, thanks fer standin' by me through all these tough times. Ah don't even wanna imagine what it'd be like if Ah was all on my lonesome. Ah'm still kickin' thanks to ya."

"Just as I am thanks to you," I echoed her sentiments. "We're in the same boat. Could we do anything but look out for each other?"

"That's the whole point," Applejack continued, placing a hoof on my chest – right where my heart beat. "Ya stuck around with me when ya could've trotted off to Canterlot with everypony else. And yer still right here beside me. Thanks, sugarcube, for everythin'."

I felt deeply touched by her message, words couldn't express it. But at the same time, I was a little surprised. I never thought I had a choice between staying in Ponyville or running to Canterlot. It all happened somewhat naturally. Nevertheless, Applejack saw my action in this light, and it was incredibly pleasing to know that she thought that way. After all, there was a grain of truth in it. How could I leave her alone on the farm, knowing how dangerous it was? It was entirely impossible for me.

Neither of us said anything more, but nothing was needed. I felt strong emotions welling up inside me, and I saw their reflection in her slightly trembling emerald eyes. Everything we had gone through together couldn't help but elevate them. At that moment, our feelings completely consumed us, leaving no room for anything else. Guided by them, Applejack slowly tilted her head to the side, and, captivated, I followed suit. We drew closer at a leisurely pace, as if we wanted to savor that sweet moment, the dreams of which had been breaking through from the depths of our subconscious, which were probably unknown to us until now.

The world around us ceased to exist, and all my thoughts converged on her alone. I could sense the scent of her slightly languid breath. There was no more than a single millimeter separating us, seemingly insignificant, when suddenly it felt like lightning struck our souls. We both tensely froze and listened. From somewhere outside the house, clearly from a distance, mournful cries and ominous moans echoed. For the moment, it didn't mean anything specific, but a few seconds later, Winona's sharp barking resounded in the yard, and within both of us, everything came to a halt.

"Is this what Ah reckon it is?" the ginger pony whispered tensely. We remained frozen in the same position, and at some point, it even seemed to me that her lips barely touched mine.

"I doubt she's wrong," I succinctly replied, meaning the dog. Giving an error after being entirely right twenty-three times in a row? It's possible, of course, but to me, it seems unlikely.

In the blink of an eye, the sensual mood that had blossomed between us disappeared. Somewhere deep inside, I felt greatly disappointed by this cruel turn of events. I had been just a millimeter and a second away from my happiness. Of all times, why did these zombies have to show up now? Nevertheless, my subconscious could think and feel anything, but my conscious mind was solely focused on the re-emerging life-threatening problem. So, I got out of bed and hurried to the landing. Applejack, grabbing her hat, followed me, equally concerned, as Winona barked frantically. She appeared as serious as usual, as if nothing had happened between us just a quarter of a minute ago…

In the landing, there were two more doors leading to what used to be Apple Bloom's and Big Mac's rooms. They were now filled with homegrown sprouts. Additionally, there was a staircase connecting the second floor to the first. But at its far end, there was a window that provided a view of the entire front yard. Rushing to it, I opened it and could hear Winona's barking more clearly. Following that, from the direction of the Everfree Forest, the chilling howls resounded again, drowning out both the dog's voice and Applejack's approaching hoofsteps. Indeed, the approach of the zombies was already confirmed by a more obvious sign – lights were flickering among the trees in the darkness.

Yes, some of the zombies were using torches to burn plants and any obstacles in their path. Their monstrous species, if that term can be applied at all, actively employed a variety of makeshift devices aimed at storming our farm. Strangely enough, their empty heads managed to don some form of improvised protective gear or even arm themselves with simple clubs. Nevertheless, the majority of them charged with bare hands, and in close encounters, this fact didn't make them significantly less dangerous.

Approaching the window, Applejack propped her front hooves on the bottom of its frame and peered into the darkness. Finding her beloved dog right beneath the farm's walls, she then gazed into the distance, just as I did. Judging by the expanse covered by the torchlights in the darkness among the trees, a massive horde was approaching us. I instinctively shifted my gaze from the dark southern garden to the ginger mare and noticed that her melancholy and sentimentality, which had briefly surfaced in the bedroom, had vanished. She had regained all her determination to defend the family farm to her last breath, which drove her during every such attack.

"Well, come on, y'all! Who's yer momma?" Applejack shouted at the approaching crowds, then yelled out in a cowboy-like manner, "Yippee-ki-yay, ya scums!"

She was undoubtedly geared up for action. However, we needed to act more resolutely and methodically rather than aggressively and impulsively. In any case, time was running short, so I immediately called her:

"Stay focused, AJ. Don't give in to anger. We simply need to protect the food supply for Canterlot, nothing more."

"Yer right," she didn't argue, leaping back on all fours. "Well, Ah'll fetch that bag with the seedlin's and ropes, and ya, go on and put Winona inside the home for now and make sure everythin's set, – let's roll!"

After these words, the pony in the hat swiftly headed into her younger sister's room, where she stored her saddlebag containing planting supplies and explosive apples. I briefly watched her and then turned my attention to my overcoat, hanging on the hook near the stairs. Along with it, there was a longbow with a quiver and arrows that I had crafted specifically for skirmishes with zombies. Well, to be exact, Applejack made the bow for me, as she was quite experienced in carpentry, though the arrows were my own handiwork. I couldn't help but hope once again that I wouldn't have to let go of it and resort to using an axe.

I quickly put on the overcoat, leaving it unbuttoned as usual, slung the quiver over my shoulder, and, holding the bow, headed for the stairs, but I halted right away. Involuntarily, my gaze shifted to the door of our bedroom. Bonk choy… hmm, why not? This battle could be a suitable test for plant reinforcements in our arsenal. But whatever I decided to do, I needed to hurry.

The zombies are coming!..

Chapter 4: Defending

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"Shove an apple in my mouth and roast me on a spit!" Applejack exclaimed, gazing through the darkness and mist at what was approaching us. "It's plumb terrible! There's more of 'em here than there are Coltorado beetles on a potato!"

While keeping my eyes on the distant panorama, I stared unblinkingly at the confirmation of her words. The southern orchard stretched out in front of the farm, its trees already free of apples. The whole area was illuminated by torchlights, and nearer to its border, the first ranks of the undead were becoming visible, arranging themselves into a wedge formation to storm our gates. Since a large part of them were still milling around in the depths of the thicket, merging into a single mass, it was impossible to make an accurate count. But there were clearly more of them than before.

The first of them had already stepped onto the path, which stretched from the farm's exit, extended almost a hundred meters to the south, and then, where the apple orchard began, turned to the left, making a hook along the eastern edge of the farm towards Ponyville. And now, as they were getting very close, a sharp gust of the chilling graveyard wind hit us, accompanied by an otherworldly undulating whistle that instantly reached its climax before gradually subsiding. This marked each wave of their attack, as if it were the breath of death they carried. Sometimes, I would wake up from this eerie whistle in the middle of the night, haunting me in my fitful dreams.

There they are – a horde of walking rot, the degenerates of what was once life, craving to turn anything they could get their hands and teeth on into their likeness! They were all humanoids, yet bore little resemblance to humans – grotesque midgets about one and a half meters tall, all with the same hideous faces frozen in a look of astonishment, as if they themselves were shocked to have crawled out of their graves. They seemed to be mass-produced, which might explain their sheer numbers and sameness. Some of them wore plain clothing with identical ties and nothing more, others had outdoor boards strapped to them like armor, the third donned buckets or traffic cones on their heads, and the fourth – the particularly tall and robust-looking ones – were clad in rags and wielded clubs, likely acquired in the Everfree Forest.

Some of them held torches in their twisted fingers, which frightened both me and my friend, especially. It's amazing that they didn't accidentally set the southern orchard on fire during their march, but on the farm's grounds, such a thing could very well happen… and had happened before. This thought, coupled with increasing tension, prompted me to start doing something just as our plants made themselves known. The cabbages we had planted outside the gate on both sides in two rows simultaneously waved their stems, and their heads, now improvised projectiles, flew toward the advancing zombies. What used to be food had become our catapults.

Finally, the adrenaline inside me overcame the paralysis, and I quickly took the bow off my shoulder to join in what the plants had already started. In a second, my quiver was one arrow shorter. I had never shot a bow before these dreadful events. However, the walking dead were advancing on us in such a massive horde that I didn't need to be a Sherwood archer to hit the target. The arrowhead lodged itself in one of them, knocking his arm from its fragile joint, just as I reached for the next arrow. It was at that moment that my companion called out once again:

"Wait on the shootin', cowboy," she urged. When I cast my gaze upon her, she pointed with a hoof at the gate. "While there's still time, we gotta plant yer cabbages by the fence!"

Surveying the length of the fence and then looking up at the approaching zombies, I quickly assessed the situation. These creatures were moving slowly but surely, marching with an uneven, swaying gait. For now, the garden cabbages managed to impede their front lines, and soon the corn planted to our left also joined the fight. Well, it truly was our last chance to defend the approaches to the missile plants.

"You're right," I sighed, hanging the bow back on my shoulder. "Let's go!"

We hurriedly made our way down the slope past our last line of defense, heading towards the fence that separated our yard from the encroaching chaos and death. In the meantime, the cabbages in our garden did their best. The heads they launched rained down on the rows of zombies, making them stagger, at times knocking them off their feet, or even taking off limbs with a strong blow. Some precise throws even decapitated the creatures. But they still relentlessly pressed forward, showing no hint of self-preservation instincts and emitting chilling growls in clear anticipation of our flesh. With each passing second, their horde came closer to the fence, but before reaching this obstacle, they had to cross our front line of defense.

Right in front of the fence on either side of the path, trenches stretched, dug by the royal guards while they were still alive. Their bottoms were filled with water, and stakes protruded from the ground. We had to regularly replace them. Usually, we planted rows of first-order defense plants behind them, but this time we were running low on seedlings. So the space between the ditches and the farm's territory had been left empty since the attack two times ago. These fortifications forced the zombies, for the most part, to advance towards the gates, where they faced a barrage of pea pods and porcelain roses. Still, a few were determined and made their way through rough terrain, gradually destroying both the stakes and the fence.

Cabbages flew through the ranks of the undead, along with them came large corn kernels. However, for every fallen creature, another five emerged to take its place. While our flora could handle regular zombies with ease, those who had taken protective measures were more challenging to defeat. These well-protected zombies led the assault, serving as shields for the others. They advanced toward us like a battering ram, threatening to level the entire farm and leave no one alive, from us to the last chicken. Occasionally, as I watched some of them getting closer to the ditches, I tried to act faster.

Choosing two spots from each end of the rows of cabbage, I dug a couple of holes right in front of the fence – in the part that extended to the right of the gate, expecting that some zombies would crawl through here. Then, I planted two seedlings in them, given to me by the ginger pony, after which she watered them with her hefty watering can of solar water, which she had to carry with her in her teeth, and the miracle that was already familiar to us happened. Instantly, both vegetables grew to the size comparable to the average height of the zombies, and from their bases, two stalks extended, twisted at the ends like fists. Their newly emerged eyes immediately began searching for their first victim who required having some rotten teeth knocked out.

"Oh, yes," I muttered, seeing the result of our first planting. "We've been missing something like this all this time."

"Yup, Ah reckon they'll give them weirdos a good ol' wallop in the belly," Applejack said, mesmerized by the size of the cabbage's fist-like stems. However, our impression quickly faded when the zombies suddenly howled loudly. They were extremely close, and there was very little time left for the final preparations. "Alrighty, let's mosey on and start a-doin'! Ain't a moment to dillydally and gawk!"

Silently concurring with her, I followed as she headed briskly toward the gate, which had no wicket but was blocked by piles of crates holding various hefty junk. We repeated the process on both sides, and within a couple of minutes, there were two more bonk choy standing guard at the gate. Meanwhile, the thinning crowd of zombies was narrowing down the path, preparing to pass by the ditches, while some others were trying to force their way straight through them. Just then, the peas came into action, forcing us to hunch over considerably to avoid friendly fire, especially me.

With dull pops, the peas literally spat their kernels out of their pods, launching them at the zombies like bullets. Following them, the roses, positioned slightly behind, also joined the attack. Twirling their blossoms, they shot their petals at the enemies like discus throwers, and as they hit the undead's rotting flesh, they embedded themselves, much like shurikens. The plants were hitting the incoming zombies with everything they had, taking down one after another and leaving dozens of motionless bodies on the approaches to the farm. Nevertheless, there were still at least fifty creatures closing in on our section, and they were just a stone's throw from the fence.

Seeing that the moment of close combat was near and inevitable, I tried to dig the last hole in front of the left rows of the cabbage patch with a sense of urgency. The shovel in my hands was almost trembling from the tension, and in my haste, I unintentionally scooped up the earth in too small portions. While I did my part of the work, AJ was watching what was happening. When the first zombies crossed the ditch's depth, starting to crush the stakes, her anxious gaze darted to me, catching me nosing around in the dirt.

"Why in the hay are ya poking around over there?" she nervously exclaimed, moving closer to me. "Let me handle it!"

Having snatched the shovel from my tense hands, she quickly dug a fairly deep hole in just two or three sharp movements. Strangely enough, she managed this task faster than me with her teeth and hoof. Not wanting to be the weak link in our duo, I immediately pulled a seedling from her saddlebag and placed it in the depression as soon as the pony in the hat spat out the tool to the side, then quickly scooped the excavated soil back. Before she took the watering can, our gaze lifted, and we discovered what plunged us into a moment of stark horror. The first zombies had squeezed through the stakes. And while the others proved duller, attempting to uproot the obstacles, these lunged forward, aiming to shorten the distance of a dozen meters that separated them from the fence.

"Quick, get the can!" I urged my friend, while I instinctively snatched an axe and prepared for the worst.

Applejack was just as quick-thinking as I was, so she rushed to the watering can the moment I called out. Equally swiftly, she returned to the seedling and watered it, even though the first creatures were getting very close. In just a few seconds, one of the zombies would attempt to climb over the fence, causing my fingers to grip the axe handle tighter. But at the last moment, I was distracted by a golden glow illuminating the ground in front of me. Instinctively, I and my friend stepped back. Another bonk choy had sprouted just as rapidly as the others, and as the rotten hands clutched the fence, the plant's stalks unleashed a series of powerful punches against the undead enemy.

AJ and I stood behind the tall Chinese cabbage, watching in amazement as it began to pummel the advancing zombies who were drawing near. Holding back the undead with hooks from both sides, the massive stems pushed them away until finally finishing the combination with a mighty uppercut that sent empty heads tumbling from hunched shoulders. However, just as the bonk choy knocked the second zombie off the fence while it was hurriedly trying to climb over, another gust of wind blew from the thickets. It was accompanied by a horrifying demonic whistle, and suddenly, the ground beneath our feet trembled. The tension within me flared up with renewed strength.

I barely had time to blink before I felt a powerful grip on my leg. Instinctively, I jerked backward and lowered my gaze, discovering a vile hand emerging from beneath the ground, clutching me. They would sometimes do this, attacking from the depths, as if they were moles, in unexpected places, making it their most dangerous method. In terror and revulsion, I swung my axe, chopping the hand off at the wrist, but the fingers kept clinging to me. Stepping back, I frantically kicked, and fortunately, the wrist detached like mud from my pants. However, it wasn't the end of the skirmish.

Even with one hand missing, the zombie burst from the ground up to its chest and immediately reached for me with its other hand, but it received a blow to the head from my axe. In a fit of rage, I struck its empty skull several times, splitting it in half, putting an end to its attempts to seize me. But in that moment, I was caught off guard by an attack from behind. Something grabbed my coat's collar, adorned with artificial fur, and yanked me backward. I tumbled to the ground, and as I opened my eyes after landing, I instantly saw the ugly face of the undead looming over me. My hands seemed to act on their own, positioning the axe horizontally against its limbs, which reached for my neck.

Leaning on the axe's handle, the zombie pushed against me with a force I couldn't overcome. But before he could press the weapon into my chest, help arrived. I hardly had time to process it when I saw before my eyes the ginger hooves that effortlessly removed the head of the creature attacking me. The pressure immediately eased, and I hastily pushed the lifeless body off me. As I propped myself up on my elbows, I noticed Applejack nearby, breathing heavily from the tension. Another decapitated zombie lay on the ground next to her, alongside a lasso.

"How ya holdin' up?" the farmer asked, extending a hoof to me.

Once I accepted her assistance, a new wave of terror washed over me. Behind Applejack, another creature had risen, its hands already reaching for her. Springing into action, I readjusted my grip on the axe and, just as my partner managed to leap aside, I swung the blade with force into the zombie's jaw, shattering it into pieces and thus pushing the foe back. Without allowing it a chance to recover, I delivered a knockout blow with a second swing. As soon as the deed was done, I cast my gaze down at the ginger pony, who had once again prepared her lasso for battle but hadn't had a chance to use it as intended.

"Not very well," I nervously replied, finally answering her question.

And once again, the zombies' howls echoed throughout the area, causing our hearts to skip a beat. Immediately, we cast our glances across the battlefield. Only a few zombies continued to advance through the ditches, and our bonk choys stationed behind the fence were confidently pushing them back on both sides, especially since some of the undead were still trying to uproot the stakes, attempting to ease the path for the next wave, which was already visible on the horizon. A larger crowd was approaching from the south orchard. We hadn't even finished dealing with the first wave when the second one was already knocking on our door, and that's putting it lightly. Turning our heads towards the gates, we witnessed firsthand that repelling the first attack was not on the agenda yet.

Focusing their main forces at the gates, the zombies pushed past the barricade of crates and stormed into the yard in great numbers. No matter how much the plants in the rear line of defense fired at them, or how hard the two bonk choys pummeled away at any adversary, the invaders were multiplying on the farm's territory by the second. Dozens of them pressed against the gates, either trying to squeeze through or attempting to climb over the fence. Those in the front lines were already launching an assault on the plants closest to them. While the pea pods barrage mowed them down one by one, denying access to their positions, the Chinese cabbage faced a harsher ordeal. They surrounded it from all sides, tearing it apart and devouring it.

"Goodness me!" exclaimed the pony in the hat, aghast at the dire situation the two bonk choys were facing. "They're swarmin' like locusts on the crops! Yer cabbage ain't gonna make it without the sunlight water!"

Articulating her convulsive thoughts, the blonde rushed to the watering can resting on the side. I immediately understood her plan, so I hurried after her, shouting as we ran:

"I've got your back!"

With these words, I also swapped my axe for a bow, fully aware of the risk my friend was taking. She intended to water one of the bonk choys with a dose of sunlight water, which required her to get dangerously close to the undead. But it was the only way to hold off their massed assault. You see, the magic of this liquid significantly boosted all the combat abilities of the fully grown plant for a short period of time. And to deal with the influx of the walking dead at the gates, the Chinese cabbage desperately needed it.

Together, we swiftly raced between the fence line and the rows of cabbage, as their heads launched above us like artillery shells, fired toward both the gates and the ditches. When we reached the chicken coop, which was positioned very close to the point of the maintained defense and thus was lined with metal, I stopped and nocked an arrow onto my bow, while Applejack did not slow down and quickly made her way to the bonk choy. Zombies encircled the heroically defending plant from both the gates and behind the fence, closing in on it and trying to tear it to shreds with their teeth and hands. In turn, it peeled off new stalk-fists from its body, continuing the fight but unable to strike down the enemies fast enough.

However, my attention was not so much on the unequal battle of the Chinese cabbage with the horde of zombies as it was on a couple of walking dead carrying torches, approaching the fence with plans to cross it. The flames they bore were deadly to the plants, not to mention my companion, who fearlessly rushed almost to the very throng of the undead. Therefore, my arrow was instantly released into one of them. I intentionally drew the string as tight as possible, causing the shot to strike his chest and bring the enemy down, while the torch flew out of his hand. Then it was the turn of the next one, but as I prepared a new arrow, something even more dangerous caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.

As soon as Applejack positioned herself at the base of the bonk choy, three zombies immediately closed in on her. Seeing the threat from them, she took a slight step back, not releasing the watering can from her mouth. In that very moment, my arrow took off the head of the first one. Occasionally, I managed to make such accurate shots. My support became evident to the ginger pony, so she overcame her fear and still leaned in toward the determinedly defending Chinese cabbage to water it as quickly as possible. The undead were already reaching out their bony hands towards her; I managed to bring down another one, but the third remained. I was about to put away my bow and rush into close combat with the axe in my hands, and the farmer, it seemed, was about to step aside. And that's when the sunlight water finally kicked in.

Bathed in a golden, magical aura, the bonk choy suddenly began delivering strikes of unprecedented strength with lightning speed. It seemed that a multitude of stalk-fists were sweeping in all directions, crushing zombies right and left. The one that intended to harm my friend instantly lost its empty head, which flew toward the barn walls. In an instant, a couple dozen zombies fell, which slightly eased the pressure on the gates, albeit temporarily. New walking dead were already coming, unwilling to give us or our plants any respite.

One of the zombies with a torch, who had fallen while crossing the fence, dropped his tool, and the flame from it spread to the short grass growing under the nearest fence post. Again, we risked losing our barrier. At the same time, some of these creatures, advancing on the borders of the cabbage patch, began to break the bars that blocked their path. In any case, allowing a fire was extremely dangerous, which prompted me to take action. I hurried over to Applejack, who remained at the gates, and continued to shoot arrows at the approaching enemies while on the move. Although missing at this distance was nearly impossible, shooting the undead with a bow was still inconvenient. Oh, if only I had a good old Winchester at hand…

"It's too dangerous to stay here," I declared, approaching the pony. In the meantime, she hurled an explosive apple into the ranks of zombies, which filled her saddlebag. The explosion that followed my words scattered a dozen zombies in different directions. "Run for the logs and prepare for the next stage of defense!"

"What 'bout ya?"

"I'll put out the fire," I replied, nodding toward the flames spreading in the grass under the fence. Assessing the situation, the farmer objected:

"Nope, let's tackle it as a team. Ah'm keepin' watch over ya now."

Briefly nodding to her, I rushed to the well where we had several buckets of water prepared for such occasions. Perhaps I shouldn't have doubted for a moment that she wouldn't leave me alone on the front lines. Remaining by the gates, she pulled two explosive apples from her saddlebag, bit off the stems with her teeth, and tossed them into the air, striking each with her hind hooves, sending them into the horde of zombies. Her strikes were remarkably accurate, as she had honed this skill by playing buckball, and the projectiles she launched repeatedly tore the undead apart with powerful explosions. However, there were too many of them – the second wave, numbering no less than a hundred, had already crossed the ditch line.

The plants didn't stop hurling their projectiles at the advancing enemies, nor did my partner, and the bonk choys engaged in close combat with everyone approaching the fence or gates. While this gruesome battle was taking place, I returned with a bucket in hand to the site of the fire. The flames had begun to consume the base of one of the fence posts, but I quickly halted its progress by dousing it with water. The fire was temporarily thwarted. However, new zombies with torches were marching toward the fence, and as I moved a bit closer to the mare in the hat, it seemed like there was a rhythmic tremor in the ground. When the next gust of wind hit, accompanied by an eerie whistle, it became clear that I wasn't imagining things at all.

Casting our gazes into the distance, my friend and I saw through the mist and the nighttime darkness the approach of the third wave from the southern orchard. Amid the flickering torches and ordinary zombies, we recognized several colossal silhouettes, which momentarily took our breath away. They were striding ahead of the next hordes of zombies, and the ground trembled beneath their steps. Each of them could easily contain a dozen of the usual walking dead. In the light of the torchbearers walking beside them, we could already see that they carried their heavy weapons in their hands – telephone poles or trees torn out by the roots, which had previously crushed more than one plant. These were particularly gigantic zombies, as if resurrected corpses of ancient Nephilim, even less resembling humans than their smaller brethren.

We referred to them as Gargantuars due to their unimaginable size. Such giants appeared only in the final waves of the attack, and not always; typically, there were at most two of them for the entire horde. But now we were witnessing six of these monsters heading towards our farm. They were followed by an entire sea of zombies. At the sight of them, I involuntarily swallowed hard and dropped the empty bucket to the ground in confusion.

"Darn it!" I exclaimed. "These, for heaven's sake, are Gargantuars!"

"Yup, and a heapin' bunch of 'em!" Applejack was equally astonished. When she and I nervously exchanged glances while the plants were trying to prevent the zombies from entering through the gates, she added, "Oh, feathers on the goat! What in tarnation are we gonna do with 'em?!"

"I don't know," I admitted. At that moment, another undead head rolled out of the gate, taken down right at the threshold. I realized that staying here was extremely dangerous. "To our positions, quickly!"

Having called the ginger pony after me, I sprinted past the ranks of pea pods uphill towards the entrance to the barn, which was tightly sealed. I didn't have any specific plan. But I was doing what we had to do, and for now, we still had a little time to figure something out. Although there was almost no room for improvisation. The thing is, Gargantuars are known for being incredibly difficult to destroy. They are so tough that a whole army of plants could barely hold them back, and with their heavy weapons, such a creature could easily crush any cabbage head or pea pod with just one blow. And now, six of these monsters were closing in on us!

Together, we bypassed all our defensive lines and took positions almost against the barn wall on the side of the corn, which had diligently showered zombies with its seeds. In front of its row lay a bundle of hefty logs. From here, I saw how the zombies from the second wave, mixed with those who had survived from the first, descended upon the gates and the fence along its entire length. Most of the stakes had been uprooted, and the remains of the undead had so thoroughly blocked the ditches that in some places, their brethren easily passed through them. Nothing stood in their way advancing into the farm's territory, except for the counterattacks from the plants.

Rushing at the fence, they tried to shatter it to splinters, while their more agile companions climbed over it and attempted to devour the bonk choys who lacked enough fists to keep the enemy fingers and teeth at bay. The other plants couldn't strike these creatures in time to relieve the pressure on the gradually perishing Chinese cabbage. The second wave was already threatening to crush the first line of our defense, and the third was approaching. Those masses led by the six Gargantuars were no more than a hundred meters away from the farm.

"I suggest we do what we can," I finally called out, taking an apple from my partner's saddlebag.

Stricken by the sight of the battle, she eventually shifted her focus to how I hurled a fruit projectile into the crowd of zombies and snapped back to reality. Placing her belongings on the ground, she began doing the same while I took hold of my bow. It was all we could do – to lighten the dreadful burden that the plants were carrying for us. Therefore, explosive apples and arrows went into our undead foes as frequently and accurately as corn seeds and rose petals.

Everything that followed blended into a chaotic whirlwind of activity and the fear igniting within my soul. I loosed one arrow after another, not keeping count of how many remained in the quiver. The zombies pressed against the barrier in their path to the farm's territory, breached several sections, and nearer to the gates, one particularly fortunate undead with a torch managed to set fire once more. The bonk choys fought valiantly but couldn't repel the continuous onslaught of foes, so they were gradually gnawed down to the point of offering no resistance. The one guarding the right gate was entirely consumed by the flames, though it continued to swing its stem-fists until it turned into ashes.

Here they massively invaded the farm's territory – these death vandals who thirsted for the destruction of all that's connected to life. Even at such close range, the cabbage hurled heads at them. As they approached her rows, it vigorously struck them with its stems crowned with projectiles, as though they were heavy clubs. However, in close combat, it was not as effective as the bonk choys, so the zombies confidently surrounded it, bending as low as possible, devouring it right from the beds. Nevertheless, with combined efforts alongside our flora, we fought them so diligently that only two dozen or so continued to storm the yard from the second wave. We probably could have easily finished them off if not for the massive reinforcement that arrived.

Moving side by side with heavy steps, the six Gargantuars crossed the trenches cluttered with corpses, and the more agile smaller-sized zombies were already striding over what had been the fence just minutes ago. Not even the flames they had ignited could stop them as they walked through it, making it seem like the dead were advancing from the depths of hell! At that moment, I reached for the next arrow and discovered that the quiver was empty. Our situation was dire enough as it was. Not knowing what to do, I suddenly glanced down at the watering can brought here by the farmer.

Perhaps that was the only thing I could do for our defense. Shedding my bow and empty quiver by the barn gates, I then took a watering can in my hands without a word to my friend and bolted down the slope. At my own peril, I raced towards the rows of pea pods, where dozens of the walking dead were already prowling. Behind them, the zombie giants loomed, their footsteps piercing the ground just as my heart did, and on their broad shoulders perched miniature zombie midgets, whose faces contorted into sinister grins. We called them Imps, and I particularly loathed these ugly pricks.

Knowing that the Gargantuars had a habit of tossing these small bastards deep into our defense, I gripped an axe in my right hand. It was then that my fears came true. Two zombie giants, positioned in the middle and slightly ahead of their comrades, each grabbed their dwarfish friends by the scruff and hurled them toward me in quick succession. Slowing down right next to the roses, I swiftly lowered the watering can to the ground and, seizing the axe with both hands, met the first little monster with a counterstrike that sent the tiny corpse flying backward with a shattered skull. Well, my youthful baseball training hadn't gone to waste…

Following was the second Imp, but I let it pass over me, bending down to grab the watering can and rushing forward because time was running out. I quickly glanced back while on the run and noticed that this little monster was already entangled in a lasso. Applejack wasted no time and followed me straight into the heart of it all. On one hand, I was relieved by her presence, but on the other, I feared for her even more than for myself. However, there was no room for doubt. I dashed towards the row of pea pods, which were firing at the zombies hanging over them with all their might, and I didn't hesitate to do the only thing that could delay the destruction of both the plants and ourselves.

Hunched over to avoid being hit by the deadly rose petals, I rushed along the line of pea plants, watering them on the go with sunlight water. I moved so close to the zombies, who had already started feasting on these plants, that it seemed like they could reach me with their decaying, contorted, yet very strong arms. Only the pods separated me from them. Fortunately, they didn't pay any attention to me, as they were preoccupied with close combat against the peas. When I covered the entire length of the line, one plant after another gave them their strongest fight yet.

In the blink of an eye, the peas significantly increased in size and unleashed a torrent of fire on all the zombies surrounding them. Like machine guns, they shot a hail of their kernels, instantly scattering dozens of walking dead on the line engulfed in flames by the gate. And when the pods finally calmed down, returning to their usual state, I saw something that greatly surprised and inspired me. Behind the crashed crowd that fell to the ground, two gigantic carcasses collapsed, visibly battered by numerous blows, and their huge heads tumbled from their broad shoulders. Having endured several accurate hits from apple grenades and now experiencing the torrential fire of peas, the first two Gargantuars fell.

However, my emotional lift lasted only a couple of seconds. Through the flames, devouring the fence and the gate, four other zombie giants invaded the territory, accompanied by dozens of ordinary undead, while another large group was already finishing off the cabbage. The watering can was nearly empty, even though this water was worth its weight in gold to us, and we tried to use it sparingly. With no ideas, I raced back to the last line of defense, and glancing to my right, I saw my partner doing the same thing, first throwing a couple of explosive apples at the enemies. I forced myself to come up with some kind of plan, but my mind, shrouded in the fog of combat fervor and stress, seemed to stall.

Returning to the bundle of logs, with the farmer standing on the other side and hurling apple grenades into the undead, I couldn't think of anything else except giving a bit of sunlight water to the nearest corncob. Once I did that, it vomited a fair amount of corn butter, which cascaded onto the zombies like a fountain, freezing them in their tracks. In times past, we could have had a thriving food business using these plants, but now, what I did could only slightly delay our demise. I knew that this butter, for some reason, made these monsters freeze in their tracks, like statues, but it would quickly run off them, clear their vision, and they would continue their inexorable advance.

In the watering can, the solar water sloshed at the bottom, so I decided to save it for the direst situation. Leaving it in place, I raced over to Applejack, who was relentless in hurling explosive apples. Now I could only assist her in this task, and fortunately, we still had enough of these projectiles. However, they were not eternal either.

"It's hopeless, sugarcube," the farmer said with a tone of doomedness after making another throw. When her wide, terror-filled emerald eyes turned to me, my heart skipped a beat.

"Just keep hitting them, and let come what may," I declared in desperation. Then I took an apple grenade from her bag and returned to the battle.

We continued to hurl our projectiles at them, and the plants didn't stop doing the same as before. But the effect of the corn butter soon wore off. The carnage resumed with the same intensity, and dozens of zombies quickly swarmed the pea pods. At the same time, other, smaller groups of them finished off the last of the cabbage, consuming many of its heads and smashing others with clubs. Some fell victim to the fire, and a couple of the walking dead even tried to get into the chicken coop. Luckily, we had the foresight to fortify it with a metal covering, mainly using the doors from safes and ovens we scavenged in the abandoned Ponyville.

The pea pods resisted the zombies to the end as they gobbled them up, encircling them on all sides. However, all this commotion lasted until the Gargantuars arrived for close combat. As they approached our plants, they easily crushed them with their heavy weapons, instantly suppressing any resistance. With each of their strikes, the very earth shook, and I felt somewhat uneasy witnessing the death of our defending flora, foreshadowing our imminent demise. Despite their losses, the plants diligently fought these creatures, setting an example for us.

Tacitly agreeing to hurl apple grenades at one of the giant zombies, we miraculously managed to destroy it after probably ten or more throws before it brought its telephone pole onto the last pea pod. Smaller zombies, who had merged into a common mass after ravaging the cabbage and futile attempts to get into the chicken coop, perished along with it. But there were still too many of them, and only nine roses and five corncobs separated them from us. That was the entire cost of our lives. I won't hide it; panic was welling up inside me uncontrollably, even though we were able to crush another Gargantuar.

The assault on the roses was as massive as on the peas. Our apple bombs flew at the next Gargantuar, and at some point, the explosions showering him tore off the arm that held a hefty wooden log. Due to this, as he approached the roses, he grabbed one of them with his surviving limb and effortlessly uprooted it from the ground, then devoured it like cotton candy on a stick. However, before he could toss away the remaining root, another barrage of corn knocked off its enormous head from his shoulders. The little Imp hanging on his back fell to the ground and continued the onslaught along with the rest of the zombies.

Attacked by a multitude of zombies, the roses closed their blossoms to be more protected from their teeth and claws, only opening them to hurl another petal at them. They held up more resiliently under the onslaught than the peas, allowing us to maintain our position not for the first night, but everything changed when two remaining zombie giants joined the fray. It was especially painful for me to watch the demise of these beautiful flowers. What I once gave to Applejack was now perishing under the march of barbarism and death. The two Gargantuars broke through the center of the line and started crushing the roses on the flanks, while other zombies rushed towards us, growling menacingly. They were only about two dozen meters away from us. It was time for the final card.

"Cut the ropes!" I ordered, grabbing the axe and rushing to the opposite end of the logs. "Come on, AJ! Let's kick them out!"

Quickly figuring out what to do, the ginger pony pulled a knife from her saddlebag and skillfully cut the rope that held the logs on her side. At the speed of the wind, I raced to the other end and, in one sweep, severed what was holding them from that side. When I returned a little back and sharply chopped the rope securing the center, the pony in a hat, who had arrived there, kicked the logs with strong hind legs to give them greater momentum, and they rolled down the slope towards the zombies. Our calculation was correct; these hefty pieces of wood knocked the walking corpses off their feet, easily broke their limbs, ground their rotten flesh to bits, thus halting the attack.

The fun ended when the logs reached the Gargantuars, who had just finished with the roses. Striking their legs, they came to a halt as if colliding with mighty columns. While our trap disabled a couple of dozen zombies, it didn't save the situation. Half a hundred of walking dead were still advancing towards us, accompanied by two giants whose hands immediately made a throw, and two Imps flew out towards us. I prepared to resist them, but at that very moment, the corn came into play just in time. Both midgets were knocked out of the air by its seeds. However, the last line of defense couldn't hold back what was approaching us like doom. We finally lost…

"Let's skedaddle from this mess!" Applejack screamed in fear and rushed away, unable to bear the sight of the impending death. I followed her, not at all eager to stay here. Only the corn remained to defend this section of the fallen defense, unable to escape.

Running away from the enemy attack line, we circumvented the inner fence surrounding the porch in front of the house entrance and stopped, as if intuitively realizing that there was nowhere for us to run. Only at that moment did I notice that I was holding a watering can, which I must have grabbed automatically as I ran past. Looking back, I witnessed the undead attacking the corn. They were second-line plants, and they had no business being on the front. Their fate was sealed.

"They won't last long," I stated emotionlessly, to which the ginger pony exclaimed in horror:

"What in tarnation are we gonna do? Did they… win?"

Applejack's world was crumbling, and it was evident in her vacant eyes, with meager tears welling up. She had already endured much in the past few days, not having seen her family for a long time, uncertain of their fate. And in this moment, her farm was perishing before her. It was where she was born and raised, like her ancestors, but now a horde of zombies threatened to leave nothing standing. Sensing a tumultuous mixture of diverse and undeniably somber emotions churning within me as well, I began frantically scanning our surroundings, as if searching for anyone or anything that could help us. But only the deserted farm surrounded us, and the nearest surviving plants either guarded the northern outskirts, quite far from the barn, or were part of the home seedlings yet.

We stood on the path that stretched from the exit of our farm, leading to the hills of carrot fields in one direction and to the north orchards behind the barn in the other. To our right, hay lay just against the wall, and to the left, a little ahead, a small area spread out, hosting neat rows of sunflowers. It was these sunflowers that provided us with the magical water. Although we had two more such plots on the other side of the house, we barely had enough. A few meters beyond the flowers, our torch stood, still burning. When I noticed it, a rather crazy idea immediately pierced me. But I had nothing else in mind.

Having grabbed a shovel from my partner's bag, I silently began to dig two pits right in the middle of the path. My actions immediately puzzled the mare.

"Hey, what are ya doin'?"

"I have an idea," I replied firmly. "But you definitely won't like it."

"What is it?" the blonde asked right away, either fearing my explanation or eager to get on with it. I pointed to the flower beds and began to expound:

"These flowers must be as flammable as their water. If we manage to lure those creatures onto their beds, watering them beforehand with the watering can, and then drop our torch on them, they will all burn in its fire. That's all we can do."

As expected, the farmer's eyes nearly popped out of her head at my plan. Before she regained her ability to speak, I quickly dug the second hole.

"Are ya plumb loco?" she hissed incredulously. "Y'all sayin' we turn our yard into a dang fire? Wanna set the whole farm ablaze?"

"Maybe we'll get lucky," I dryly remarked, planting the last two bonk choy seedlings in the holes. Once I finished with them, I stood up straight and presented the ultimatum, "Choose: either we take the risk of losing the farm, or the farm will definitely lose us."

Without waiting for her answer, I started watering the Chinese cabbage from the watering can. As soon as it grew, the zombie moans brought the apple pony out of deep thoughts. When we cast bewildered looks at the barn entrance, we saw that the last corncob had just fallen. And the remaining zombies were heading towards us with their slow but inexorable steps.

"Alright, if that's what ya reckon," the pony reluctantly agreed. "Well, let's git 'er done!"

Seeing her determined resolve not to let the farm fall into the dirty hands of zombies, even if it meant sacrificing the entire estate, I nodded confidently. At the same time, the undead were getting closer, with only two bonk choys standing between us.

"This won't hold them for long," I admitted, and then immediately got down to business. "Let's go!"

Hearing death marching behind us, we got down to business with the quickness of prey escaping a predator. Grabbing the watering can, I dashed to the sunflower beds and began watering them with what they themselves produced, although there was almost nothing left in the can. The flowers, like all similar plants, had eyes that carelessly observed my actions, not understanding what was happening. This was evident from the cute smiles on their inflorescences. It was a pity to use them as fuel for the fire in which I intended to burn our threat. But there was no other choice. Flora regularly had to sacrifice itself for us.

While I was tending to my task, AJ stepped aside and once again took hold of the apple grenades. Although her throws almost immediately ceased before I could water the beds. When I returned to her, the zombies had just pounced on the bonk choys, which had started dealing punches to them.

"Ah got just two apples left. Reckon that oughta do to knock down the torch," the farmer said, showing me the contents of her bag. Then her sad gaze rose to our structure. "But if we go through with that, then… what 'bout our message to Canterlot?"

"If we had another plan," I shrugged in bewilderment. At that moment, one of the Gargantuars flattened the right bonk choy, while the left one was voraciously being devoured by the ordinary zombies. The moment of truth was approaching. "Let's try to lure them into our trap."

Standing amidst the sunflowers, we started taunting the zombies finishing off the last bonk choy, showering them with curses, and luring them into the fiery trap. I didn't even imagine if they understood our speech, although it didn't matter. The crucial thing was that, having dealt with the Chinese cabbage, which bravely bought us time, they eagerly pursued us, craving our brains and flesh. Standing in the way of these creatures and enticing them with our shouts was akin to attempting to mine the rails in front of an oncoming train. Fortunately, the zombie movement was much slower. Though a close encounter with them was no less terrifying than death under steel wheels… if not more so.

The distance between us and the zombies was steadily diminishing with each of their steps, the adrenaline level rising from the mere sight of their march until we finally stopped hurling insults. They only had a few meters to go until the first sunflowers, and the Gargantuars seemed to loom over us like two rocks.

"Run, AJ! Stay away from them," I ordered, taking the last two explosive apples out of her bag without looking. As if spellbound, she obediently followed my instructions and galloped away somewhere beyond the torch. Meanwhile, I began to slowly retreat backward, continuing to lure them into the heart of the flower beds, "Well, come here, you crap-headed bastards!"

The walking undead were right in front of me, the poles carried by the zombie giants seemed almost able to reach me, and that's when I snapped backwards away from them. Their entire horde had almost completely gone into the flower beds, signaling that I needed to hurry not to miss the moment. At full speed, I reached the torch and, without slowing down, threw an apple grenade towards the two supports holding the structure from the side where the undead were chasing me.

Fleeing without looking back, I heard an explosion behind me, the shockwave hitting my back, causing my balance to waver. I almost fell but somehow made it to the square hay bales located closer to the carrot beds, where Applejack was waiting for me. Only when I was next to her did I stop and turn back. Before my eyes, the torch collapsed. Like a monumental structure, it fell menacingly and, in a sense, majestically onto the sunflower beds, crashing precisely onto the Gargantuar ahead of the horde, crushing it with its mass. Immediately after that, flames erupted.

Drenched in solar water, the flowers ignited like candles, followed by those zombies fortunate enough to avoid the torch. Even engulfed in flames, they continued moving toward us, just as they had at the gate ten minutes ago. These horrific spawns from the underworld thirsted so eagerly for our demise that they relentlessly pressed on, even now, with their putrid flesh aflame. Nevertheless, they couldn't perform beyond their capabilities, causing one after another to collapse onto the burning flower beds and never rise again. The flames devoured their decaying bodies, preventing them from advancing steadfastly.

They fell one after another as we stared at them with wide eyes, unable to move from our spots. The fire raged so fiercely and intensely that most of them remained to burn alongside the unfortunate flowers, and only a few managed to proceed further. But one fell, then another, and only the last Gargantuar, burning like the effigy of Guy Fawkes on the fifth of November, continued forward, shaking a huge pole also engulfed in flames. When he managed to overcome the entire length of the fallen torch, driven by instincts, I moved towards him, gripping the axe handle tightly.

My heart raced at an unprecedented pace once again during this dreadful night, and my mind was utterly blank. However, before something horrifying happened, Gargantuar suddenly fell to his knee. Trying to get up, leaning on his pole, he collapsed entirely – his bulky arm, already burned enough, snapped in half. In his final moment, he managed only a muffled growl before sprawling on the ground, motionless. Before I could fully comprehend our stroke of luck, an autumn rain poured as if ordered from the heavens, and a tremor passed through the ground, as if from the fall of the last destroyed giant.

Out of nowhere, with a dull crunch, something burst from the soil, followed by a scream behind me. Quickly turning around, I saw a zombie erupting from the ground, tightly gripping the bewildered Applejack. Her attempts to break free from its steel grasp proved futile, and as I rushed to her aid, pulling my axe from my belt, the filthy creature sank its rotten teeth into her shoulder. A loud cry escaped the farmer's throat as the zombie bit through her coat. Although her suffering didn't last long, as my axe promptly buried into the spine of the lifeless bastard.

Forced to strike in a way that wouldn't accidentally harm my friend, I still achieved the desired effect. The zombie roared as if it felt pain, and Applejack managed to break free from its weakened grip. In horror, she recoiled to the side, and I finished what I started, smashing the creature's head, just as two more monstrosities emerged from the ground around us. Feeling the fury from their persistence, I leaped towards the next one behind me with berserker rage and a wild grin, swiftly decapitating it before it could grab me with its lifeless hands. But the third one managed.

Its crooked fingers grasped the collar of my overcoat and with unprecedented strength brought me down to the ground. Landing on my back, I saw above me the madly staring eyes of the undead, whose hands reached for my neck. I tried to resist, but after a couple of seconds, our struggle resulted in his peeling nails, generously adorned with serrations, scratching a mark on my cheek just below the eye. I lacked the strength to push him off me; like all zombies, he was very strong until it all resolved as if by magic.

A rope lunged onto the head of the walking dead, tightened around its throat, and pulled it backward. It was Applejack, not leaving me alone in trouble. Together, she and I wrestled this creature off me, and as I managed to rise a bit, my axe split the foe's head. It no longer twitched, just like all its numerous buddies; the threat had been extinguished. Still on edge, I began to feel my body succumb to exhaustion, my hands trembling from strain. Slowly, I sank onto the short, damp grass slightly aside from the vanquished undead.

It became very quiet. Only the hiss of rain and the crackle of burning wood disturbed this sepulchral silence. Yet, it soothed the ears like nothing else. We prevailed – again, and at that moment, I could hardly believe it. On the other hand, my determination was as solid as ever. I don't know where these creatures come from. Perhaps it's some kind of magic or experiments by our mad scientists, or maybe a couple of freaks decided to fuck in a graveyard, accidentally awakening the dead to a semblance of life, initiating a zombie apocalypse that reached us. I don't know where it all started. But I know where it will end – here, on our farm. And we will exert every effort to ensure it stays that way.

With these unspoken thoughts, churning in my mind in tandem with the adrenaline in my heart, I looked at Applejack, who was sitting right beside me. My partner was trying to catch her breath, as was I, and two streams of blood trickled down her shoulder. I knew that, contrary to the once-common misconception, a zombie bite didn't turn the bitten into one of them. At least, this didn't apply to ponies. But anyway, neither I nor she emerged dry from the water, not to mention the plants. Yet…

"Looks like you and I survived once again," I spoke, breaking the silence. My words sounded as if I still couldn't believe this fact.

"Yup," she nodded, in a weary state. "Looks like we did."

Neither gusts of wind with a cemetery howl, nor lifeless moans, nor even underground tremors. It truly was all over; the battle had ended, victory was miraculously ours. Finally, we met gazes, and within me, something special ignited, indescribable. I longed to see her eyes endlessly! I think she felt something too because, like scalded, we instinctively rushed towards each other, not even bothering to rise from the ground. In just a second, we entwined in the warmest embrace, the kind that could only warm our bodies and souls in the chilly rain and the insane night of our narrowly avoided demise.

Our lives had just hung by a thread, and now the farm remained almost defenseless. Its front yard was ravaged, a fire burned nearby, not yielding much to the rain. But in that brief moment, we didn't care; nothing existed around us except our unity, expressed in a tight embrace. It was precisely this that had allowed us to survive all this time – the fact that we had each other. Experiencing this state not entirely consciously, I pressed Applejack to my chest, and my hand affectionately buried itself in her mane under the cowboy hat.

"Ya just saved my hide, huh?" Applejack suddenly remarked softly after a minute of silence. "Thanks, sugarcube."

I slightly pulled her away from me and looked into her emerald eyes, full of the same feelings that blossomed in my soul. Oh, I loved that look of hers more and more!

"What are you talking about, Jackie?" I shrugged, inadvertently calling her a name that, as she had told me, only her father used in the old days. "How else would you have saved me?"

Chapter 5: Hoping

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All around was utter silence. I listened to it, feeling a sense of emptiness inside me. Yes, we pulled through – again. Not a single creature managed to finish us off. But what awaited us ahead? Perhaps, I couldn't deny that, like Applejack, I was getting tired of this life. And there seemed to be no end in sight. We weren't broken, we would rebuild our defenses, complete the harvest, and erect a new torch. But after the fall of the old, crushing zombies under its weight and burning others in flames, something inside me seemed to have cracked a little more, as it did with every upheaval caused by enemy attacks.

We were slowly but surely being squeezed. Each new attack fell on a defense that became less and less reliable. And our plants… theoretically, I should treat them as mere expendables, as they used to be just food, but now they had essentially turned into a living shield against zombies. But I increasingly began to see them as soldiers bravely giving their lives for our victories. And their numbers in our reserves were steadily decreasing – we simply couldn't grow replacements fast enough. All of this felt like some horrifying nightmare that just wouldn't come to an end.

However, we still remained alive, and that was the main thing. Right now, I considered it most important to calm down, regain composure, and, in the end, gather my thoughts to figure out our next steps with a clear head. That's why I sat on the terrace of the carrot farm, located on a hill away from the Apples' barn, simply relaxing from the madness that had just transpired, gazing into the distance. From here, almost the entire Ponyville Valley was visible. Besides the fact that this building stood on an elevation, its terrace was on the second floor. I always liked the view from here, even though it had become desolate, lifeless, and consequently gloomy.

Ponyville, visible to the northeast from here, was engulfed in the night's darkness and showed no signs of life. In the houses, whose outlines resembled ghosts roaming in the middle of the night, no lights were on, and the streets were deserted. But how beautiful it used to be here before the hordes of zombies invaded this world! The local spring captivated me; everywhere it was green, in the sunlight, everything seemed truly enchanting, and the scents of blooming plants were simply intoxicating! Although, above all, it was the happiness among the local ponies that captivated me, which they were eager to share with everyone just like that. But now all of this was only a shadow of the past and dust.

Reminiscing about the past life, I turned my gaze to Canterlot, looming very far – almost at the horizon – definitely to the north of Ponyville. Lights still flickered in it. I didn't know if anyone from those who took shelter in the capital managed to see our torch, and if there was even a single pony left alive there. But I was certain that we needed to erect a new torch and persistently send our distress signal to the capital, regardless of the circumstances. Even if we had to bring it down on the zombies more than once. We couldn't afford to surrender, despite the immense challenges we faced.

These reflections were interrupted by the sound of hooves coming from inside the house. I looked to the right and soon saw Applejack stepping onto the terrace, clad in her coat and, of course, the hat. I guess I was so lost in thought, surveying Ponyville in the distance, that I didn't see her making her way from the apple farm toward the carrot one. Until now, I had been sitting here alone, as she stayed back at home, wanting to prepare new seedlings. It was one of those very few occasions when we allowed ourselves to separate, and only immediately after attacks. These creatures had never attacked us twice in a row, as if playing with us.

"Bored?" Applejack inquired, barely appearing before my eyes. Her tone was as if our lives hadn't hung by a thread. Yeah, she was very resilient.

"A bit," I smiled briefly, to which she lifted her burden held in her left hoof and cheerfully announced:

"Well, Ah fetched somethin' to put a smile on yer face!"

In her hoof, she held a mug, almost filled to the brim with cider. I had completely forgotten about it.

"You were supposed to save it, saying we had an inviolable reserve," I joked. Indeed, we intended to keep those barrels of cider for the direst circumstances, and opening one after the torch was built was an exception to the rule. Although I had no idea how many we had, as my partner was in charge of keeping track.

"This here's what we didn't get 'round to finish before all these walkin' compost showed up," the farmer replied, finishing her words with a grim tone aimed at our enemies. "Ah dumped it all in one mug, and thankfully, we got ourselves a full one. So, go ahead and drink – it's somethin' that oughta be swirlin' in our bellies by now."

Meanwhile, the ginger pony approached closer and placed the mug on the tea table right in front of the armchair where I was seated. Her rocking chair, in turn, was positioned to my left shoulder, and it was toward it that my friend headed. As she leisurely circled the table, I noticed a slight hobble in her left leg. Poor thing, she's limping. Fortunately, we had supplies to tend to her wound, so now bandages were applied under her coat. Nevertheless, it wasn't great that those undead managed to get so close to us… to say the least.

As she approached her seat, AJ nimbly perched herself on the rocking chair. Previously it belonged to her grandmother, and only she could relax in it. It was something of a family rule. But now, the ginger pony herself sat in it whenever we spent time on this cozy terrace. It was our place of serenity. Whenever we needed to calm down, take a break from worries, or simply have heartfelt conversations, we always came here. That's why the farmer moved her grandmother's chair here – to feel a deeper connection with a brighter past while being here.

So many evenings spent here, so many words spoken! Without a doubt, I would call these moments the best of the last month. We often dined here, chatted about this and that, shared stories from the past, getting to know each other better. Sometimes she sang old rural songs for me, and when she wasn't in the mood to sing, she just played the banjo. Oh, how I loved her voice – so heartfelt and incredibly sensual! Almost all the ponies surprisingly had excellent vocal skills, but AJ simply excelled in country music… yeah, better than anyone around. However, in some cases, just being in silence and quiet together was enough for both of us.

"How's your leg?" I worried as soon as she was next to me.

"Ah, ain't nothin', it'll mend itself," the blonde replied confidently. "Ya'll see, come next attack, Ah'll be jumpin' around like a wild goat!"

"I can imagine," I chuckled. Then, looking into the distance, I decided to share with her the first practical thought that came to me while I was waiting for her, "I think, before the next attack, we should relocate some plants from the northern part of the orchard. Attacks were rare and sparse there. They'd be more useful at the main entrance."

"Ah reckon the same. 'Specially 'cause we likely ain't got time to make up for all we lost lately," she added to my point. Finally, her gaze fell on the mug, and she changed the subject, "Well, what in tarnation are ya waitin' for? Bottoms up!"

I didn't argue with her. The cider was already cold, whereas during the autumn, and especially in the winter chill, ponies usually warmed it up before drinking, similar to our mulled wine. But it was fine as it was. Each cider had its own unique touch, but in its cold state it was much better suited for quenching thirst in the heat and dry air. Taking a sip, I once again fixed my gaze on the abandoned Ponyville. And again, I felt that strange sensation that came over me every time I looked at these empty houses.

The farm was surrounded by vast expanses, yet Applejack and I lingered here as if on a deserted island. Nonetheless, this island was strangely beautiful, even though peril loomed over us. One could think that amidst this monstrous mess, there was some kind of romance – the kind, however, that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

"Beautiful here," I uttered thoughtfully after a brief silence, then took another sip and handed the mug to Applejack. Thankfully, our chairs were placed almost side by side, so I didn't have to reach far.

"It used to be prettier," the farmer responded almost emotionlessly, also taking a sip. "Sadly, now it's all a big pile of nothing out here in the middle of nowhere."

Glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, I saw her take two more gulps in one go. Drinking from the same mug together… There was something kinship about it, something that united us – something that allowed us to stand for each other and fight for a common cause with one spirit. We did that before, right here in this very place – for example, sharing an apple between us, taking turns biting into it. As it was once said, feasting together meant fighting together, and with those vile zombies, we were in a real war. But almost immediately, my thoughts returned to the subject of the conversation that had just begun.

"What was the farm like before me?" I curiously asked. At that moment, the cider came back to me.

"Purdy, snug, homely," the pony in the hat listed off immediately. It seemed that nostalgia was starting to take hold of her – both sweet and bitter at the same time. "To reckon what Sweet Apple Acres was like back in the day, ya had to be at one of our family reunions. Picture this: kins from all over Equestria comin' together, all smiles, laughter fillin' the air, the whole bunch of us ponies having a blast – stitchin' family quilt, bakin' apple pies, then gobblin' 'em up with joy… heh-heh, Big Mac was a real champ at that! Fillies and colts 'uns competin', old ponies chattin' 'bout the good ol' days, and we'd finish it all off with a family snapshot in front of the barn. True, we had to fix it up once or twice… no big deal. Oh, how Ah wish Ah could show ya all that firsthoof!"

"But you mentioned that this event was only for the Apples," I calmly remarked. As far as I knew from her previous stories, these reunions seemed to be exclusive – something like clan gatherings.

"So what? Yer family to me, sugarcube," Applejack murmured with friendly warmth, and at that moment, I felt her hoof rest on my elbow.

As I looked at her, I encountered that captivating, good-natured smile once again. In response, I covered her hoof with my hand, then gently patted it a couple of times before handing the mug back to her. She accepted it and, after taking a sip, directed her gaze toward the barn. I followed suit. From here, I could see the remains where the sunflowers used to grow, now reduced to ashes. The remnants of the torch lay there as well. Thankfully, the house had remained unscathed from the recent attack, unlike the fence. It was broken, charred in several places, and it was up to us to rebuild it – yet again. Only dull pits in loose soil remained where the plants once stood guard.

Beyond the fence lay the remains of the zombies, which we piled up and set alight, as we always did. The flames from them continued to burn and would surely not be extinguished until morning. However, my attention wasn't fixated on the aftermath of the recent defense but was riveted to the barn. Remembering what it was like here in better times, I could envision a whole herd of Apples gathering in front of it, captured by the camera. Honestly, I didn't even need to imagine. I had seen photographs from their past gatherings, ones Granny Smith showed me once… sometimes against Applejack's wishes.

As it sometimes happens, the farmer didn't particularly want her grandmother to introduce me to some pictures where she was still a little filly, especially when accompanied by comments from the elderly pony. But in my opinion, Applejack was invariably cute back then as she is now, just in her own way at each age. But now, as I recalled the contents of their family photo album, I suddenly felt very sorry for her. She loved her family more than life itself but couldn't see them due to insurmountable circumstances. It was unbearable to see how much it pained her inside, even though she didn't show it outwardly.

"I hope your family's next reunion will still happen, and I'll see how you spend time together," I said with sincere hope, expecting my words to cheer her up. However, in response, a heavy sigh escaped her lips.

"Ah don't know," she said gloomily, looking away. "Honestly, Ah ain't got a lick of an idea how that could happen. After all that's goin' on here… we can't even get through to Canterlot. Why even talk 'bout the whole family?"

"Don't you believe things will get better?" I asked impassively. It seemed my assumptions about why she was sewing the family quilt alone were somewhat accurate.

"Not that Ah ain't believin', it's just… Ah'm 'fraid of holdin' onto hope that might not pan out. Ah couldn't stand it if somethin' happened to any of my kins. And keepin' them thoughts in my head's just plain unbearable," the farmer shared. Then, she glanced at me, handing over the mug, concluding, "Ah'm plum tired out from this here life, sugarcube."

"I understand," I said as gently as possible. My gaze turned toward the lowland separating Ponyville from Canterlot Mountain. Even at night, there was a faintly glowing, almost colorless, deathly-green haze lingering there, which I assumed kept any pony from the capital away. Taking a sip of cider, I softly continued, "I'm tired too. We've fended off the twenty-fourth attack, but what's the use? They'll strike again, and we'll have to start over. Preparing defenses against them is like building a sandcastle by the sea. The wave will inevitably come, and there'll be nothing left. And these plants are sacrificing their lives for us."

"Do ya feel sorry for 'em too?" Applejack asked, a bit surprised. When I nodded in agreement, she glanced away and almost whispered, "Ah thought Ah was startin' to get as sentimental as Fluttershy. But Ah guess… you too…"

"They've long been more than just plants for us," I asserted confidently. "And we're not that different from them. We're tied to the farm like they are to the soil, needed only to protect the harvest, not knowing if those we're safeguarding it for are alive or not. Zombies could have already reached the Crystal Empire, especially if the lights in Canterlot are deceiving us, and we're stuck here – far down south – like in a damned snow globe. And my world has probably long perished."

"Ya miss yer home?"

"Sometimes," I replied. "Of course, I was never as happy anywhere as in Equestria, but life was good there. Nothing like today. But the most important thing was that I had prospects. There and here. And each of you had them too. But now there are none. No prospects, no hopes, nothing. Only ghosts of the past, a dimming glimmer of faith that somehow things will still work out, and hordes of walking dead. We seem like a relic of life in the midst of a sea of death. It's not easy to comprehend, let alone accept."

Having poured out all the negativity that had been building up inside me throughout this month, I placed the half-empty mug on the table and, resting my elbows on my knees, clasped my head with my hands. We were dying, nowhere left to run, and I really didn't want to accept that thought. But it was too glaringly obvious. In silent frustration, I rubbed my temples slightly, then shifted my palms to my face when suddenly something gently enveloped me. Opening my eyes, I saw the ginger hooves of my friend embracing me.

"Better?" she whispered with a reassuring smile. It was touching that she returned to me what I had done for her just before the attack. And though a simple hug might seem ordinary, sometimes it meant more than anything in the world. This was one of those moments.

"Much," I confirmed, straightening slightly and reaching out to her shoulder. "Only because of this, it feels better. Because we're together. As long as there are two of us, our fight makes sense. Even if the whole world perishes, we must fight for each other. That's why I'm not giving up, no matter what happens. I hope you won't either."

"Ah ain't givin' up the family farm to 'em, even if Ah'm left alone, so ya can stop worryin' 'bout me," shrugged the blonde. "Besides, long as we ain't certain there ain't nopony else 'round these parts besides us, the harvest's gotta be preserved. But… how much longer do we gotta keep on guard? They're gonna get us one way or another, ain't they?"

"Can't deny that," I didn't lie. "But we'll stand our ground as long as we can. Tomorrow we'll build a new torch and try to grab their attention, and if there's no one left in Canterlot, we'll hold out until someone else comes for us. We'll make it through the winter, and come spring, we'll manage a winter wrap up ourselves if need be, but we won't give in. Even if everyone dies, we will continue to fight at least just for life – for what's left of it."

"Well," murmured Applejack, glancing away for a moment before returning her gaze to mine, "and how long are ya willin' to fight these critters?"

"I'm willing to fight them forever," I declared, caught up in her gaze, a silent plea for hope. Leaning closer, I nestled into her ear and whispered, "Just as long as I can be by your side, sugarcube…"

Zombies on Your Farm

by Skjald

Chapter 1: Seeding

Chapter 2: Building

Chapter 3: Feeling

Chapter 4: Defending

Chapter 5: Hoping