Fallout Equestria: Medicine & Mail

Author’s Notes:

This is a companion chapter to Chapter Four-point-Eight in Medicine & Mail. If you have not read at least through chapter four-point-eight in the main storyline, then this perspective will not make any sense.

Chapter Four-point-Nine

Divide

“Sometimes it just takes one spark to start a fire.”

“What? Just like that, you can’t be serious!” I scrambled forward over the dirty stonework, scraping my tied hooves against the dirty stonework. “How am I supposed to survive out here like this?”

True North looked down to me and shrugged. “We’ve an arrangement. We try to be accommodating where we can, but you, Silver Sheen, you were a disruption.”

“I tried to do everything you all asked of me!” I pleaded.

“It’s not my concern now. The word’s been given.”

I cried out after him, screamed for him to stop, and wailed at the unfairness of it all. My voice returned from the walls in mocking tones. I cursed him and everypony in that fucking sewer. What did I do to deserve this? I knew I was having troubles fitting in, but to tie me up and leave me in this filthy city? I’d starve or die of heat stroke!

A scraping sound snapped me from my self-pity. A scraggly pony in tattered grey strips of cloth around his neck sauntered toward me, dragging one mangled hoof behind. His eyes were empty, devoid of sense. He cackled quietly to himself as he approached.

Or raped or sold or both! I panicked, kicking frantically at the stonework. I bit into the frayed ropes that ripped through my coat and into my skin. I pulled and chewed, glancing quickly between the knots and the emaciated pony through hot tears.

He took another step, and his shadow inched over my side. He was on top of me and my hooves were still tied. I screamed and swung my arms wide. The clubbing blow staggered the haggard stallion. He swayed a moment, then lunged forward, a scowl across his face.

I shoved and pushed frantically, kicking and screaming, trying to free myself from his grasp. A thick, putrid stench emanated from his mouth as he smiled and laughed. Black gums covered in boils and oozing filled the spaces where his teeth should have been. His tongue was swollen and covered in a white fuzz.

My stomach threatened to empty itself but my body was too busy thrashing to afford the time.

Another shadow crossed over me, and a split second later the rotting stallion was knocked some feet from me. Blood spilled over his face and ran from a gaping wound on his head.

The shadow grew and engulfed me. I turned to it, body already reacting and flinging my hoofs out at the shape, but a heavy stomp to my stomach caused me to convulse and coil up uncontrollably. Rancid liquid seeped from my lips as I was dragged by my mane into the street.

“Right on time.”

“They’re ne’er late. Told yuh that.”

“Just this one,” the stallion asked, nudging me with a hoof, “Or collar the other one too? Bloodsport or hunting maybe?”

I shrieked as a deafening roar split the hot air. I twisted up to see a smoking pistol held by a midnight blue stallion in slipshod leathers. “Naw,” he said, holstering the weapon.

The frenzied stallion with his torn rags lay lifeless just a few feet from me. Blood pooled around the portion of his skull that was splattered across the rest of the walkway.

My will escaped me like the blood from the corpse of the drugged stallion, and I could offer little resistance as the two as they clasped a heavy metal collar around my neck.

Tight metal clasps bit into my skin and weighed my hooves down. Another chain extended from the clasp on my throat to a dingy stallion in front of me, and I couldn’t bring myself to peek around and see who was attached behind.

Our line was herded onward over cracked stonework and through dirt fields at the edge of the town. The midday sun blazed unimpeded by clouds, and the soft sand beneath my hooves seared with each step into it. Chains flashed and glinted in the light, and radiated the blazing afternoon heat, leaving burned hair and blistered flesh wherever they pressed.

My steps slowed, and the chain around my neck went taught, lurching me forward. The pony behind me had slowed to a crawl, and I was having to push myself to drag along the extra weight.

“Sooner y’ get there, th’ sooner y’ can take a break, ahh?” called out one of the slavers. He walked along the line and glared at each of the captives in turn. His eyes were yellow with small blue dots for pupils. His mane was ragged and patchy.

He stopped half a step behind me, and brought his hoof down into flesh. I cringed as the mare behind me cried out. She must have tried to run or panicked and pulled away, because the chain at my neck went taut and nearly pulled me over. My hooves dug into the sandy soil as I held my ground.

More screams and the jingle of chain and thump of hoof on flesh came from behind. “Now, y’see,” the slaver called out, “One of y’ thought she did’na have t’ carry yer own, and now th’ whole lot o’ y’ gotta carry it for her! Now c’mon,” he yelled, “Move!”

Awful, awful, awful! The smell that lingered in the carriage had a vile scent to it. It must have been composed of every bodily fluid in a pony and used to paint the walls, as overwhelming as it was.

The windows of the carriage were sealed with wood and rebar, and uneven nails and sharp edged tin strips held the rest of the compartment together. What little wood remained of the floor creaked and gave with any pressure on it, so I tried to keep my balance on the metal sheets where I could. Unfortunately, evermore slaves were being loaded in and space was becoming tight.

A large earth pony teetered and fell against me, pinning me painfully against a pile of rotting wooden scraps. He pushed back gruffly and with a heavy thud, he fell to the flooring.

The only silver lining was that our collars had been removed, and we were free to breathe without the pressure of the choker. The reprieve was short lived, though, as I gagged when a wisp of air flooded my senses.

A short while later, the shouting outside had quieted, and several carts ahead, the sound of heavy beams being released from the train passed over the carriage. The train lurched roughly and we started moving. The other slaves all settled into their corners or small groups, silent but for those that sobbed and shuddered.

I curled up in my little space, uncomfortably caught between the enormous sleeping pony and a pile of rubble.

I tried to ignore the rattling of the chains, whimpers and sobs, and the screech of overladen carriages on worn metal tracks, but they wormed in and the harder I tried to shut them out, the louder they became. My head pounded and screamed, and I pressed my hooves harder into my ears until the pain overtook the voices.

Somepony tapped on my shoulder, but I shrugged, in no mood for the pointless chatter of other slaves that nopony in this wretched hell could do anything about it.

The taps came again, and again.

I spun, clattering the chains. I hissed and made to scream, but the sounds caught in my throat. I was face to face with a familiar white unicorn. Her purple eyes flickered in the dusty light.

Her chains rattled, and she lunged at me, wrapping me as best she could. She leaned her whole body against me, and I was holding her without realizing.

“Silver,” Vitia whispered, “I knew we’d get to you.”

Behind Vitia was a mare with a dark green coat and steel-blue mane. She stepped forward, cautiously avoiding the orange mound of burly earth pony flesh between us. “Now for the hard part,” she whispered.

I looked to Vitia, “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you,” she smiled. She smiled, as if she and I weren’t on a train packed with heavily-armed slavers filled with slaves-to-be, and weighed down by heavy chain. It was the same smile I could remember as if she just said good morning. Just the two of us in all this mess.

I shook away the memory, and whispered, “I don’t see how your current situation is any better than mine.”

“Yer girl’s got a point,” whispered the other mare. She looked to me briefly, and I noticed her eyes were different shades. One was a bright golden, and the other was faded, like a brightly painted cap that had been left in the sun for too long and lost its vibrancy.

The train bounced and creaked as it passed over uneven tracks. Wooden shutters adorning the windows clattered and chains clanked.

“Any ideas?” Vitia asked the other mare.

“Still wingin’ it,” the odd-eyed one replied. “Just gotta get out of these chains first.”

I couldn’t understand—their expressions weren’t that of despair like the other slaves. Our lives were forfeit at this point, destined to be tracked halfway across the Wasteland to be sold, and there was nothing we or anypony could do about it. “How’d you get here? Why’d you come here?” I asked.

“This thing’s being pulled by slaves,” Vitia said absently. “Think we can get them to stop?” she asked the other mare.

“There’s a whole carriage of slavers ‘tween us an’ them. No harness, no guns, no magic, remember?”

Vitia shook her head. “We’ve got to save everypony.”

The other mare leaned in, brows furrowed, and whispered harshly, “Ain’t no way, Vitia.”

“We can’t just leave them here!” Her voice rose above the clatter of the train, and she ducked down for a moment before continuing, quieter, “We can’t just leave them here, Bit. I’m not going to run away like at the fort.”

“We can’t,” the other mare replied sternly. “No guns, no support, an’ we’re chained up besides. Ain’t gonna do nopony any good dead and that’s one surer than a bullet to the brain, right there.”

Vitia clicked her teeth and turned away, glaring into the throng of slaves.

I sat, watching the two, dumbstruck. For a brief moment, I was in awe. This wasn’t the Vitia that I said my goodbyes to weeks ago. Not the playful, snot-nose brat of a mare I once knew. She wanted to help, and I understood that.

Silence hung over the three of us as we sat on the hard flooring. The train lurched as it continued forward, and our chains slid across the floor.

“I agree with Vitia,” I said, finally. “If we can do anything, we have to do it for everypony here. Nopony deserves what’s going to happen to them in here.” With each word I was emboldened. “How could I live with myself—could you live with yourself?—knowing that we could’ve done something but didn’t? We have to try.”

Bit shook her head, “Look, I know everypony wants t’ play the hero, but it just ain’t happenin’. Maybe y’forgot, but we can’t even help ourselves just yet.” A moment later, she added, “These shackles look simple enough though, so if I can just find a long bit of metal, we can see to gettin’ off. Maybe catch the sunrise uncuffed, yeah?”

Vitia turned to her, and stifled a quiet giggle. “Oh Bit Flip, you wonderful featherbrain.” She adopted a teasing tone, “Your mane’s still nice and combed, wouldn’t you say?”

The green mare lit up and a grin crossed her face. She reached up and pulled a bobby pin from her bangs, slipped one end into her mouth, and plunged the other end into the slot on the shackle.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

Vitia leaned in quickly and pressed her hoof to her lips, “Just watch.”

A moment later, a quiet click sounded from within Bit Flip’s shackles, and with a quick twist, she slipped it off.

That’s it, I thought. This is really going to work. My spirits lifted, and I watched with barely-contained excitement as the gruff mare went to work on her other hoof. She moved more quickly with the pin, and let out a brief “Ha!” a moment later. The pin bent as she turned her hoof, and snapped.

She spit out the broken pin and cursed. “Damn it, just one left,” she moaned, pulling another pin from her hair.

She slid the pin in and took a deep breath before twisting on it. The shackle clicked and gave way.

She smiled, and made quick work of the last two. Unchained, she peered into the carriage behind us, moving her eyes over each of the downtrodden slaves, then motioned for Vitia’s manacles. The first chain slid from her leg almost immediately, and Bit Flip started on the second without hesitation. The last two came off, and she started on the binding on my leg.

After the second shackle came free, I rubbed my legs. They were sore, and there were visible marks where the edges bit into the skin, but nothing lasting. Each rub made me feel better, more alive. More like none of the horrible things that day had happened. When the last click came and the shackle was twisted free, I started to my hooves. I felt like jumping for joy.

An arm wrapped around my neck and roughly dragged me back to the floor where I locked eyes with Bit Flip. Her golden eye shimmered brightly through the expression of fear written across her features. “Y’damned daft foal, get down,” she cursed.

“What? We’re free—”

Vitia hushed me quickly, her face contorted with the same fear as her companion’s. She leaned up to me, “Calm down, Silver. If anypony finds out, what do you think’s gonna happen? We’ve got to stay hidden back here.”

I looked around quickly. The chest of the earth pony beside us lifted as he slept. Just beyond him, two tattered mares lay huddled together, their faces drawn and tear streaks matting their cheeks. Those expressions repeated in face after face across the dozens behind them.

As the train shook and rattled, small rays of light flickered through the cracks in the walls and sealed windows, and illuminated clouds of dust.

I couldn’t understand why Vitia and Bit Flip were so terrified. Every wearied face I looked at in the cabin told me of their resignation, and as they teetered or fell from the shaking of the carriage, I could only see the sorrow of ponies ripped from their homes.

Beside me, Bit Flip shook the massive mass of pony. The orange stallion mumbled something and turned to her. His face was thick and heavy, with beady eyes. Despite the burns, scars, and pocks, though, his expression was gentle and calm.

Bit Flip moved to the titan’s hooves and started undoing it with her pin. The shackle clicked free, and she wrestled it from the stallion’s leg. Deep creases and slices across his hooves marked where the shackles, much too small for the massive pony, had dug into his flesh.

“What is she doing?” I asked Vitia.

The unicorn seemed as lost as I was, and we just stared in silence, watching her make short work of the other manacles, before turning and starting on another pony’s.

The carriage began to come to life slowly. Nearby ponies looked to the source of the rattling chains, and I watched the realization spread over their faces. Eyes went wide, mouths opened slowly, and excitement seemed to flow from Bit Flip’s rescued in waves.

“Bit,” Vitia spoke, her voice strangely concerned and loud over the chatter of the shuffling ponies. “Don’t do this,” she begged.

The other mare ignored her and twisted another pony’s leg free. Beyond her, a thick wall of ponies had developed. Dozens of eyes looked on her. The massive earth pony gently situated himself between Bit Flip and the growing crowd, using his muscled bulk to help keep some space free for the mare as she snapped chain after chain from ponies.

Bit Flip looked to Vitia and held her gaze for several seconds. The anxious crowd shuffled, and ebbed, oblivious to the dead expression on the mare’s face.

She made an exaggerated motion, twisting the pin slightly, and it snapped.

A single shudder ran through the carriage, and in its wake was a deafening roar of shouts. The slaves burst from all directions inward, climbing over the massive earth pony and crashing against the wall. Bit disappeared under the waves of frenzied ponies.

The crowd had come to life. Excitement and jubilation gave way to terror and panic. Like a swarm with a single thought, the frenzied mass moved instinctively. They lunged, scraped, and tore their way across the carriage, crushing the hapless underhoof.

A deafening roar split through the air, and several more followed. Rushing through the carriage door, several slavers held pistols tightly, firing into the ceiling above and into the frenzied mass.

Like a wounded beast, the crowd shifted and swarmed toward the slavers. I was pushed aside and nearly swallowed by the roiling mass, frantically bucking my way from it. Hooves bit into my flesh and I winced at the pain that came from my side and leg.

My chest crashed against the rubble and sharp edges pressed deep into my skin. A weight fell upon me and slid back, crushing me against the wall.

Gunfire roared from just in front of me. Splinters flew in all directions from crates being hit. Shrapnel rained down as bullets shredded the rotted wood on the flooring and walls. Ponies screamed and blood spattered as they were hit.

A swath cleared in front of me, and I scrambled to my hooves, dashing after the brief flash of white that disappeared into the crowd. I had to shove and kick my way through, stomping my way over fallen ponies and tripping over chains.

I felt a sudden burning in my mane, but I was pulled away from the grasps and violence too suddenly to react. I could hear Vitia’s voice, screaming, but over the roar of insanity all around us, I couldn’t understand her words.

The carriage shook, and light flooded part of the carriage behind Vitia. I peered beyond her to see part of the door that had been barred and sealed hanging loosely from a damaged frame.

Several ponies fought each other for the cramped space, frantic to be out of the opening and through to freedom. Ridges of metal and nails marred the entry, and dug deep into the flesh of the frenzied group. Flesh sliced wide and screams of pain overtook the roar of the crowd and screeching wheels.

A colt dashed through the doorway in front of me. His legs caught on jutting metal and ripped through as he stumbled out the doorway. His chains snapped taut and he bounced along the tracks and gravel below, tearing skin and the flesh beneath as he skipped unevenly over the surface. His chains had wrapped around another pony’s legs, who was pulled tight to the doorframe, rusted metal piercing through his side. His screech deafened the rest of the crowd’s. The chains bounced once and came free. The colt fell to the track and a moment later, an explosion of flesh, bone and blood filled the space he just occupied, then disappeared as the train surged onward.

Several ponies flew through the air away from the crowded opening, bowled aside by the massive orange earth pony. His coat was spattered in red but his eyes were calm like before.

Bit Flip dashed through his legs and nearly straight into Vitia. “We have to go!” she yelled.

I was shoved forward and crashed onto my face. My hooves struggled on the slick surface, and I clumsily made to my hooves. I stood in streaks of blood and tattered flesh at the doorway. The stallion that had been tangled with the colt had slumped to his side, and blood seeped from the chunks of missing and torn flesh.

Through the opening, beneath an uneven plating of pocked metal, I saw a structure of latticed steel and heavy supports rather than the ground as I expected. The bridge rose high above a wide canyon that shimmered along the bottom.

“Jump, Silver!” Vitia who was twisting and bucking, trying to break free from the grasp of the mare who was biting into her tail.

My legs shook and I froze. I couldn’t move. Madness had enveloped the carriage, and the thick stench of blood and gunpowder had overtaken the putrid smells prior. Wheels screeched on the rickety metal track below. Ponies screamed and shouted all around. Guns fired and chains swung wildly.

The orange stallion spun and bucked. His massive legs connected flat with the pony that held on to Vitia, and the frenzied mare was flung back, crashing into several others behind her. The stallion ducked down and slammed against another with his shoulder, freeing Bit Flip.

Vitia rushed to the doorway, and grabbed my face, holding it painfully between her hooves. Her face was matted with sweat, specked with grime, and her lips cracked and seeped blood. “We have to,” she yelled.

But I was scared. Terrified. My hooves scraped against the floor, and I leaned away. I didn’t see the opening as salvation. I knew it was, but I could only see the colt that dashed through and was torn to shreds.

The decision wasn’t mine to make. A pair of evergreen legs wrapped around my neck, and yanked me toward the opening. My hooves pushed and scraped against the flooring in protest, but I struggled in vain.

Burning pains flared through me as we crashed against and scraped through the tattered opening. Metal scraps dug into skin, tacks and nails pierced, and then we plunged into the open desert air. A gust of its thick heat hit me before I was unexpectedly lurched upwards.

We tumbled and flipped, and caught the edge of the track before plummeting down. I spun, and through Bit Flip’s wings, I saw the bridge falling quickly away in the distance.

——

Party Status:

Bit Flip: Overall healthy. Lacerations and minor physical trauma. Stress levels highly elevated.

Level Up (15)

Vitia: Overall good physical condition. Lacerations and other minor wounds. Highly elevated stress levels. Mental condition moderately stable.

Level Up (13)

Quest Perk: Magic Enfeeblement III

Your magical conduit is damaged and you cannot manifest any magic. Trying to will result in debilitating pain and an automatically failed spell.

Silver Sheen: Moderate physical condition, with slight blood loss and moderate physical trauma. Extreme stress levels.

Level Up (3)

Notable Possessions:

None.