Chapter One: Hit the Bricks

“Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.”

Bricks.

I was tired of fucking bricks. Having one broken over your head has that effect on a pony.

I woke up to the heartwarming sight of a dingy brick wall. Was I supposed to break them or something? Or maybe I just happen to get a broken brick as my cutie mark I somehow managed to break a brick with my face. Or maybe it was that I was destined to smash more bricks with my face.

Oh well, it didn't really matter. I was in too much fucking pain to think clearly. My body was numb with bruises; my neck throbbed and my back was still stiff. More than anything, my throat hurt. Every breath came down like dry fire, and my bones ached as though a million tiny ponies crawled beneath my skin and were mining my at my bones.

And it didn't help that to distract from the familiar tearing at my chest or merciless pounding at my temples. . . .

“Dash . . .” I rasped. I didn't know how long I was out, but I was sure I hadn't got any dash while I was out. I knew it would probably kill me, but it would take away the pain. “I . . . need dash.”

“The mare's been dead two hundred years now and ponies are still screamin' her name out in bed.” I could hear Bit and Trashcan laughing. Sweet goddesses that sounded loud. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the excruciating noise.

“They don't got any,” I could hear Lily say somewhere next to me, thankfully talking softer than the others, “Couldn't really get ya' any even if they wanted too. They never thought ya' would live. I knew you would, yeah, I knew. . . .”

I clenched my teeth and rolled over onto my stomach. Beyond all the pain I felt . . . . heavier. I did notice, as I felt the stained and frayed mattress beneath me, that the cuts on my stomach had healed.

“Good news is that they decided to keep ya' along,” I could see him now, chained to the dark, soot covered fireplace. It was a relief just knowing that he hadn't eaten me in my sleep. “From what I heard, you fought pretty well. A few more days clean and you'd probably be able to take Bit. Probably . . .”

“O' 'course then I'd have to kill you,” Bit said with a smirk, hovering some sort of stew in front of me. The room was small, but in surprisingly good shape as most of the bricks were still there and the windows still had glass. The stew's aroma hit me hard, smelling something akin to buffalo sweat, but that in itself was a major improvement on radroach meat.

“Thanks,” I muttered hoarsely. That chain had really worked a number on my throat. Between being strangled with a rusty chain and years of shoving dash down my lungs there was no way that was going to heal any time soon.

The soup was just out my reach, so I tried to stand up and reach my head forward. My legs had other ideas though. They stumbled beneath me on the awkwardly buoyant bed, my joints burning as though my legs had been pulled and stretched, before being flattened out. I grunted in pain and collapsed back down into the dank mattress, slumping in resignation.

“Growing pains,” Lily shook his head. “Your body has years to make up for. You've been too small for too long.” His frightening yellowed eyes leveled with mine, “Dash is not good for little ponies.”

Bit levitated the stew in front of me between my forehooves. For a moment I could have sworn that there was a look of concern that flashed across her features, but only for a moment. She lifted up her spear, to inspect it's jagged edge before floating up a roll of duct tape.

I turned to the soup in front of me, lowering my face into its billowing steam. Boiled bloatsprite. Believe me, it was far more appetizing than it sounded. The meat had been cleverly chopped to hide its origins and boiled into a thin broth. Hell, there were even bits of potato in there! While potatoes were one of the few things able to actually grow in Equestria's fucked up soil, most ponies used it to make alcohol.

Vodka; a waste of a damned good potato, if you ask me.

I tested it with a few sips, before clenching the battered bowl in my teeth and tilting my head back to greedily suck down the surprisingly rich soup. It may not have been any advanced medication, but a hot meal helped; soothing my throat as the warmth spread throughout by sore limbs.

Pops chuckled from behind me.

“If he keeps up that appetite we could eat our way through the wasteland.”

“Yeah,” Trashcan said, “If the fucker gets any bigger, though, we'll have ta' start draggin' trains just ta' keep him fed.”

Big? I didn't feel very big. Well, that's not entirely true. I felt more weighed down and sluggish than usual, but that's normally what happened when I was without dash. Ugh. Dash. Just thinking about it sent my head reeling. More than it already was, anyway.

Yeah, there was no way I would be pulling trains in this condition.

“You've been out for three days,” Bit said, scraping a strange rectangular stone against the blade of her spear, “Pops was gonna' leave you there, but you fought hard. I figured you'd be useful after a few days without dash.”

Eyup. A true element of kindness, to be sure. When it comes down to it, everypony in the wasteland wants something, so I guess I really wasn't surprised. I didn't care, though. I was alive, and they would keep me alive so long as I fought for them.

And I was in no mood to die.

Lily was right; given the choice, I would rather live. At least I didn't have a rusty collar around my neck like he did.

“Ya' best get some sleep,” She said, lowering her spear, “We gotta' get some work tomorrow.”

She raised her head up, speaking purposefully loud, “Because somepony blew all his caps on whores!”

Trashcan laughed loudly behind me.

I knew I should probably get some sleep. I could barely move let alone fight. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the throbbing in my temples long enough to sleep. Trashcan and Pops' talking by the fire didn't soften, though, stinging my ears. If I only had dash, I wouldn't need to sleep. . . . . .

* * *

Darkness wrapped around me, pulling only away far enough for me to see the chipped and dented cement floor. Dim light grew around me, exposing the rusted iron walls of the Playpen. The walls rose high up into the sky, their towering supports groaning under their own weight.

Ponies shouted and jeered from atop the massive walls, throwing refuse and junk down from the wall, adding to growing piles in front of the blood stained metal.

A heavy clanking sound echoed from around me as the crowd hushed.

I turned in time to see giant, mechanical doors grind and clang open, pulled up by rusted and creaking chains. Beyond the opening was complete darkness. . . . . but a giant hoof stepped out. And then another. . . . .

It was him; the colt from the arena.

I turned and ran for all I had, shoving off from the ground and launching into a full canter. The ground shuddered behind me as my hooves pounded against the cold, hard ground.

I looked back just in time enough to see him swing his brick as his menacing smirk spread into a sadistic grin. I dove to the side as the brick smashed the ground where I just was. The ground behind me shuddered as it caved in. I lept again and again as chunks of concrete fell into the darkness behind me. I turned to him to see him collapse into the void himself. . . .

The ground shook again. A giant white leg shot up from the void, grasping over the edge of the jagged precipice.

I stepped back, my heart beating out a terrified rythym.

The second hoof shot out, pulling his wicked, determined glare over the edge of the pit.

I stumbled back . . . .

And tumbled down off the edge of the cement floor. I tried to scream but all my throat could manage was a haggard rasp. Darkness engulfed everything as I fell down with the rubble that had piled up around the walls of the arena; empty dash inhalers.

One by one they disappeared into the shadows until only one remained.

I collided heavily with the rough floor, the empty inhaler landing beside me.

Then the white colt plummeted from above me, landing on top of me in a pinning embrace. This time he was my size, though, and I could do it. I could kill him. I could survive.

The crowd, now leaning over the small walls of the Playpen, roared it's approval as we struggled there on the floor. He slammed his hoof down heavily, but I moved my head to the side and it struck uselessly against the ground. I shifted my weight and threw my forehooves over him, twisting hard. Our bodies wrenched as he suddenly flipped beneath me. I pinned him under one forehoof and raised the other to ready a strike.

Without hesitation, I brought down my hoof on his face, once, twice, three times. . . .

My eyes widened in shock as looked down into the eyes of the merchant mare from the night before the arena.

“You got what you wanted,”

No! This wasn't supposed to happen. Why?

Why did she have to die?

* * *

“Wake up fucker,” Somepony kicked me in the side, sending me sprawling over the moldy wooden floor.

“Ugh,” I groaned. I opened my eyes to see Trashcan laughing to himself.

“Get up,” He smirked, brandishing what looked to me like some sort of high tech fork; pronged with two spheres connected to wires that ran down the length of the handle. Ponies sure made some weird things before the war.

I rolled over to press myself up from the ground. I still felt heavy and sluggish, but the world wasn't spinning like it was before I passed out. It didn't stop him from swinging the fork at me anyway. It sparked against my flank, blinding me with jagged pain and shooting lines of fire up the inside of my spine. A rough spasm jerked me up into the air and tossed me across the room, the collision from the floor shaking me out of the glaring white light under my eyes.

Trashcan doubled over in laughter, stumbling against the door frame in a vain attempt to stay standing.

I would've said something, but at the moment it was all I could do to keep my lightning paced heart from exploding.

Note to self: Do not touch cyber-forks.

“C'mon,” He ordered between laughs, motioning with the wired fork, “Get out there.”

I slowly stood up, cautiously looking over my shoulder. I couldn't trust him not to hit me with it again. He may have been shorter than me, but he was one sick motherfucker. . . . .

Wait. I was taller than him now? I knew I was deathly thin, by how I could feel the breeze from the door brushing the coat between my ribs, but somehow it made me feel better. At least I felt less weak.

Well, that is until a threatening wave of the electric fork thingy reminded me of exactly how little that actually mattered.

I scrambled out the door, not wanting to test his patience. The harsh morning light forced me to squint. Even though I'm sure it was dimmed by the constant cloud cover, I had spent more than three days indoors. Not that the rest had helped much with the headaches or the nightmares.

“. . . And I don't got any jobs I need done,” It was the suited stallion from the day before. “Not that would give you any,” He spat, shooting a glare at me.

“C'mon, not even word of a caravan we could sack? Nopony 'at needs killin'?” Bit asked.

“Not after throwin' that fucking dash-head in there,” He huffed back to the Playpin, “I wouldn't have let ya' put 'im in if I had known he was that old.”

“I hate to say it,” Bit said turning to Pops,”But Meatlocker's prob'ly our best bet. He just came down from Manehattan, so he'll know of anypony tryin' to come down.”

Pops nodded to himself, “Yeah, one or two raids could hold us over for a while. At least 'till things cool down enough down south for us to get in on that new deal in Appleoosa.”

“Fucking Trashcan,” Bit laughed, “Ya' just couldn't keep yer'self from pissin' off those assholes.”

“Hey,” Trashcan grinned sheepishly up at Pops and Bit, “I coulda' sworn that buck was a mare.”

I had no idea what exactly they were talking about, but knowing Trashcan it was probably something I was sure I didn't want to know.

“You guys stay here,” Pops turned and started across the ruined town square, “I'll go deal with Meatlocker. Last thing we need is Lily gettin' snacky.”

You know, I could have left right there. Sure they would have chased after me, but I was always fast enough. Even as a foal, or whatever the hell I had been a few days before, I had outrun more than my fair share of angry ponies. Once or twice without dash, even. As much as these raiders could have killed me, though, they didn't. They were some of the only ponies that hadn't tried to kill me.

And as long as I fought for them, I got food and safety. Relative safety. But still, that was as much as a pony could hope for.

Pops walked back over, carrying something on his back. Damn, if just being near Meatlocker made a pony smell that bad, it had to be awful being anywhere close to him.

“Theres a small caravan coming down from Manhattan,” He said to Bit, “Not heavily guarded. Should be easy pickings.” Bit and Trashcan nodded in approval.

“And you,” He turned to me, “I got ya' somthin' to wear.”

* * *

I shifted around uneasily in my new barding as we followed the side of the trail north. It fit loosely on me and left my legs mostly unguarded, but the strips of stiffened leather and occasional piece of scrap metal promised more protection than I had ever really had. It was a little uncomfortable, but it didn't seem to slow me down any. It matched the rest of the groups barding, sort of. I hadn't really paid that much attention to it before, but I noticed now that Lily's barding had what looked like railroad spikes sticking out in pairs running down his spine. Bit's was different too, as it had metal rings stacked up end over end climbing up her legs. . . . . .

My eyes couldn't help but follow them up her hind legs to her plot whenever she passed me.

Pops always put me and Lily in the lead, though. Lily looked like he didn't mind being in front, but every now and again he would twitch and his eyes would darken. Trashcan was quick to jerk on his chain whenever that happened, but I didn't understand why. I know Lily was a cannibal and all, but he acted like he had more self-control than Trashcan.

Lily wasn't the one that downed three bottles of beer before we crossed the bridge out of Ponyville.

Lily stopped and sniffed the ground. Trashcan jerked his chain once, but Lily just sat down.

Trashcan rose up his fork thing, but Pops stopped him.

“We may not be alone,” Pops said quietly, looking around cautiously.

Pops and Trashcan levitated out shotguns from of their backs, as Bit lifted out her spear. Lily shook his head but the rest of them didn't put their weapons away.

Good Luna did I feel exposed. Not being on the main road, there was little in the way of cover, and the ground was uneven. The only thing breaking the barren monotony was what looked to be an old ancient rest stop.

Still, Pops motioned forward with his gun. Lily started forward, slowly. I tensed, following him carefully. Each step I put forward as soft as I could, as though there was a land mine under every pebble. For all I knew, there could have been.

A small pebble fell down from a gentle hill. Chains rattled as Lily sprang into action, dragging Trashcan down into the ground.

“Jump 'em!” A voice rang out from behind a boulder.

I could see two of them jump out from the sides of the boulder, but Lily was already on them. The earth pony didn't even have enough time to fire the pistol in his mouth before he hit him with his lowered shoulder, driving three of the rail road spikes into the poor fucker's neck.

“Brick!”

Fuck! Where?!

I jerked my head around. I didn't see any bricks, but there were five ponies running out from the dilapidated building, firing wildly.

I ducked my head forward and charged. Bullets panged off the ground next to me, lifting small lines of dust as the ricocheted off.

The echoing booms of Pops' shotgun echoed through the empty air, sending pellets spraying from behind me. None of them hit the ponies in front of me, but they slowed down at least, trying to return fire on him.

Nearing the pony in the lead, I sidestep a moment before leaping at him, under cutting a ragged sweep of his rough cut hatchet before slamming both of my forehooves into his neck. He crumpled down, sprawling into the dirt.

Before I could finish him off, a bullet lodged itself in the chunk of pre-war wagon tire that was duct-taped to my shoulder. I turned just in time to see the pony with the smoking revolver get hit with a gleaming, glowing spear. He collapsed onto his side as the spear stabbed into him again and again, widening the fresh ool of blood at his hooves.

“Brick, behind you!” Bit shouted, whipping her spear around.

Shit. I ducked, twisting sharply to see behind me. Who the hell was throwing all these bricks at me?!

Two unicorn mares charged me as they swung their clubs at me. I backed up and ducked under one of their swings, trying to keep on my feet through their assault, but they swung faster and faster. I lept over one broad arch, and dove under another swing behind me.

I sidestepped a heavy blow, making it plummet straight for the other mare. She flinched back, letting the nailed club strike the ground uselessly, but that left her open. Only for a moment, but that was long enough for me. I turned on my forehooves and bucked her hard in the face.

I couldn't see her, but the shock from the impact shuddered through my legs as an ear rending scream rent the air. Kicking blind was always dangerous, but it must have hit something important. The second mare looked at me in shock as I shoved off the ground at her, all four of my legs throwing all my weight at her.

She tumbled heavily onto the ground in front of me as the collision halted my charge, but she still swung the club at me. Nails scraped my stomach as I dodged back, leaving small scrapes over my ribs.

She yelled as she rose up from the ground, swinging wildly at me. I stepped to the side of a swing at the last moment, letting the weapon hit the ground before throwing all my weight on it, snapping it in two. Before I could act again, she lowered her head and charged with her horn.

I ducked, narrowly missing her horn, but her head still struck my shoulder. I planted my hooves as I slid backwards, trying to shove her off. She stopped and reared back, readying for another charge. Instead, I reared up on my back hooves and brought them down heavily on her neck as she came close, shoving her horn first down into the dirt. I raised my hooves again and brought them down on her back.

I was rewarded with the sound of a sickening snap, underneath me.

I looked up and saw the others finishing the fight. Lily shook, trying to get the mangled corpse of a pony off the spikes on his back. Trashcan was just now picking himself up from the ground. I couldn't help but laugh at that, though it probably sounded more like a strangled gasp.

Pops walked slowly towards the mare I had bucked earlier, blood now dripping down her mane and down her face. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at Pops, almost pleadingly.

There was a jagged stump where her horn had been.

Pops hesitated for a moment before levitating his rugged shotgun down to point the barrel at her forehead. She whispered something to him. Her lips moved almost silently, but I could have sworn she mouthed the words, 'thank you.'

He fired, painting what was left of her head against the ground behind her. Turning away towards Trashcan, he inspected his gun as he walked.

* * *

“Nice job, Brick.”

I flinched as Bit patted her hoof on my shoulder.

Seriously, what was with all the bricks?

“Brick?” I asked. I would have elaborated, but saying anything at all stung my still raw throat.

“Yeah,” She smirked, “That's yer name, isn't it?”

Great. Brick. First my cutie mark, then my name. I was never going to get away from bricks, was I?

Have I mentioned I fucking hate bricks?

It was the first time anypony had called me anything other than 'kid', and it was better than 'fucker,' so who was I to really complain.

That was it; I was going to make a shit list. Number one; Bricks. Number two; Ponies trying to kill me. Number three; Ponies trying to kill me with bricks. . . . . I would put more on there later, but right then I was focused more on the radroach jerky I was trying to eat.

“Ah swear,” She said jokingly, “Sometimes Ah'd think Lily's more talkative 'an Brick.”

Pops laughed, “Dummer 'n a bag o' bricks, you could say.”

Well, I couldn't argue much with that, so I laughed along with them.

We had set up camp in the abandoned building by the side of the road. It was abandoned now, anyway. The ponies that had attacked us left the place mostly empty, except for a couple stained mattresses and empty inhalers.

The first thing I had done was to shift through them to find an unused one, but they were all empty. My headache was leaving and my eyes didn't burn anymore, but my mane still itched whenever I saw one of those blue inhalers. . . .

Most of the inside of the place was trashed or missing, and the shelves were lined with empty bottles; somepony's idea of a trophy wall, I guessed. The only thing left from before the war was part of a poster.

All that was left was the creepiest blue eye I had ever seen. I would have gone to take it down, but it looked like it was staring at me. It was almost as if it would have burned me or damned my soul or something if got too close.

I could get used to this, though. Not the building, I mean the group. Fighting was easy enough, and at the end of the day we had a warm fire and a hot meal. There was one thing that confused e though. . . .

“Hey Pops,” I rasped, “That unicorn back there. Before you shot her. She said something before you finished her.”

“Yeah,” He nodded his head. “Ya' took off her horn. I never seen one break so easy, but I have seen 'em break. It's not an easy thing for a pony to deal with. Hurts more'n pretty much anything else that could happen.”

And I had done that to another pony? I could see why he took her out.

“It was outta' mercy,” He said, his voice quiet, “I ain't any good pony, but I ain't one to leave a pony to bleed to death in that condition either.”

Pops started a fire in the middle of the room. The caravan was a day or two north of us, and we needed the rest, and we were all glad for the hot meal. Lily was a surprisingly good cook, though I do admit I was a little doubtful, and nervous, about the cannibal of the group being the one to cook the meals, but Bit assured me all the meat used was radroach.

Given the taste, I couldn't argue that point. Even Lily's culinary skills couldn't cover up that unique, sweaty, flavor that radroach had.

“I wonder where Trashcan went. . .” Pops looked around.

I had noticed he wasn't here around the fire like the rest of us, but I didn't much care. The guy was an asshole, and recently he smalled like fish and booze. And not even good booze; he smelled more like piss than anything.

Of course, Trashcan had to stumble in the door right then. I wasn't sure why, though. Most of that wall was gone anyway.

“Hey, Lily!” He slurred, waving his fork thing. It was a wonder he didn't hit himself with that that thing.

Lily ignored him, working over his own piece of radroach.

“Hey LILY!” He shouted, dragging Lily to the ground by his chain. Pops didn't do anything about ut, though, and Bit had already gone to sleep.

He pulled up Lily to his face, ignoring his short ragged pants. I knew how that felt. . . . he was being choked.

“You never do that again, ya' hear me?” He said in his ear, jerking him closer, “D'ya' HEAR ME?!”

Pops just sat there, and him choke Lily. Giffin's fisting dragons, he fucking strangled him for to make a point!

I couldn't handle it. The pain from just a few nights before burned at my throat. But I could breath. And I wasn't weak anymore.

He shoved Lily to the ground and yanked his chain back, striking him with the probes on the end of the fork.

“No!” I shouted lunging at Trashcan.

I heaved him up into the air on my shoulder and slammed him into the wall. I Spun him off the wall with my hoof and stood over his stunned, gasping form. I planted one forehoof on his side and pummeled the other into his jaw. He twisted under me, but he was smaller than I was.

His horn started to glow a strange orange color. . . .

I whipped my head to the side and snatched the weapon out of the air before he could strike me with it.

I clenched it in my teeth as I spun it around. I struck him with it, watching him writhe in pain beneath me. I remembered the pain that had gripped my back when he hit me with it, and he had done it for fun.

My glare hardened and I beat him again and again with the shock-stick. This asshole fucking deserved this.

I hesitated as he shook under me again, whimpering in fear. Tears welled up under his eyes, and a puddle of piss had collected under his hooves.

No.

He deserved worse.

I jammed the device roughly into him and clicked it into the 'on' position as I held it there. Sparks flew and he screamed in agony as I stood there to hold it on him. I didn't stop, holding it there until it ran out of power.

And he screamed. The screaming tore at my nerves, but he deserved this. His screams grew ragged and his shaking grew more violent, but the moment before the power faded, his shaking stopped and his eyes rolled back in his head.

His chest rose and fell sporadically; breathing in short, ragged pants. He was still alive. In pain, and barely conscious, but alive.

My own breaths came out hard, and my heart pounded at my ribs, but it was slowing down. I breathed in deeply as I backed up from the limp form of Trashcan. He looked as weak as he really was, and small. Like I had been. . . . .

“Are you alright?” I rasped, turning to Lily.

He nodded sharply, backing up from me. He looked afraid of me. I guess I would be too. My red coat and pitch black mane, with my ugly banded armor. . . . . .

And I had just nearly tortured a pony to death.

And before that I had ripped the horn off a unicorn.

Fuck. This all made my head hurt. I sat there, and looked up at the eye on the far wall. . . .

What was I turning into?

Click

I felt the cold barrel of a shotgun at the back of my neck.

Fuck.

Note: Welcome to level two!

Perk Gained:
Weathered (rank one)- The wasteland takes its toll, but you survive. You gain a plus 5 to survival, as well as +5 to radiation and poison resistance.

Skill Note:

Unarmed 40

Survival 40

Author's Note

All of my power to kkat for creating this awesome universe. As well as special thanks to Weegeekirby helping to edit this thing. Anybody reading, feedback would cool; I like to write, but it gets for me to stay on topic sometimes. It may be a while before I post any new chapters, with finals and Equestria LA coming up, but contact me if you'd be interested in shooting any ideas at me or help edit.