“I have lived here since I was a filly,” the zebra declared from the opened doorway, her expression tight and unbelieving. “Why must I leave?”
“We don’t make exceptions, Ma’am.” A well groomed and presented stallion stood on the small wooden porch that welcomed guests to her home, his hooves comfortably embraced by the homemade welcome mat. On either side of him a unicorn soldier stood in complete stillness, not threateningly, but just to make sure everyone knew that the officer they escorted wasn’t making any requests.
Zelena flicked her tail in frustration and scowled at the strong stallions, her amber eyes burning them with her glare as she tried to think of how she could convince them otherwise. “I have done nothing wrong, you cannot force me to leave,” she snapped. It just didn’t make any sense, and it was pointless to move her and her neighbors!
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but these are my orders. You don’t have a choice,” Captain Celery Stalk calmly continued and looked down at his clipboard where it sat on a metal stand around his neck. “If it was up to me, you would stay, but as I told you before, the local Ministry office decided it will be safer for everyone if you relocate.”
“You mean to the camp,” she blurted and flicked her tail again. “No, I will not live in such a dreadful place.” She had heard all about that place. It was crowded, not nearly large enough to accommodate every zebra in the city; it served half-cooked food that was left over from what the soldiers were given at the new base they were still building; and the housing complex had been built from scrap metal and termite-infested planks. All together, it was barely livable and down right insulting to call a home.
“Please, Miss Zelena,” he started pleading before she stepped forward menacingly. The soldiers on either side of the captain swung rifles from their backs with a flash of magic and gave the zebra a full view of the muzzles. They didn’t blink or move their hooves an inch; the only movement they made was to spin their heads toward her.
Zelena stepped straight back into her home as her scowl wavered and the fire in her eyes flickered. Celery Stalk didn’t seem even slightly worried after the mare’s display, and pulled the uncomfortable clipboard stand off of his neck. When the zebra’s anger finally extinguished and revealed the sorrow she had been fighting back, he took a step forward and stopped at the edge of the doorframe.
“I’m very sorry. I wish we didn’t have to do this,” he assured her softly. “But you’re the only one who hadn’t agreed to move yet, and we don’t want you to get hurt.” The stallion sighed and sat down, trying his best to stay firm on what he needed to do.
He had already given Zelena three waivers to stay in her home longer, and one more would mean his tail on the commander’s wall. Every other zebra in New Oatleans was relocated to the camp already, either by force or because they understood that it was partly for their own good. It wasn’t like every soldier wanted to force them out of their homes, even if a few really did, but those who didn’t want to deliver the news weren’t given a choice.
Captain Stalk had actually asked not to be involved in the mission, but his commander insisted that he be a part of it. After all, he had grown up in that part of the city and had known some of the zebras living there since he could barely walk. The General thought that would be a good thing, that it would make it easier for him to convince the zebras they should leave. Unfortunately that stupid pegasus didn’t know anything about Stalk’s old neighbors, or him. He hated the job, and would rather have taken mess duty for a month than go out and force his neighbors and friends to leave their comfortable homes and live in a crowded and poorly maintained camp on the outskirts.
So of course command had stuck the young captain with relocating his old neighborhood, and of course Zelena still lived there along with some of the older zebras that his parents had been friends with and their children that he had spent his childhood playing with in the streets. That was back before the damn War, and before the anti-zebra campaign the Ministries had been pushing for the last few years. Unfortunately for them, all the propaganda in the world couldn’t convince Celery that his lifelong neighbors were evil or deserving of life as prisoners.
“Zee,” he warmly tried to calm the zebra who had fallen to the verge of tears. Her eyes rolled up to him at the sound of her old pet-name, but it didn’t make her feel any better. “I know it’s hard, and I really do wish I could just forget you lived here, but I’ve waited as long as I can,” he explained. “A lot more soldiers will be here soon, and most of them didn’t get to grow up around zebras like me. They’ll hurt you if they see you out here.”
The mare sniffed hard and choked a sob. “I can hide, I promise I will not go outside,” she pleaded. “Just do not make me leave.”
“I wish I could do that,” the stallion told her sadly. “But these soldiers won’t back me up on that decision, and the next pony that shows up won’t ask you nicely.”
Zelena choked on another sob and just stared at the pony in her door. He was still such a gentlecolt, even after running off to join the Guard up in Canterlot so many years ago. Even though he was there to force her out of her home, the mare still saw him as the shy little colt who grew up next door to her. Even though the timing was horrible, she wondered if he had ever learned to kiss better since the brief moment they shared the morning he moved away to become a soldier. Maybe after the war was over she could find out.
“Okay,” she finally agreed and rubbed at her nose gingerly. “Am I allowed to bring a bag?”
“Of course,” he assured her with a pained smile. “Take as long as you need, Zee. I’ll wait out here.”
She didn’t bother to close the door when she turned around to head into her room and pack; there wasn’t a point to it. She didn’t move quickly either, because she knew that Celery would give her as long as she needed to get her things together and say goodbye. It wasn’t that she owned much or that it would take a long time to figure out what she wanted to bring, it was that she couldn’t bare to leave the place she called home for almost 20 years.
The thin door clicked shut behind her when she reached her room, and a soft mewl greeted her from the wicker basket under her bed. A muddy brown tabby slinked out and stretched his legs with a wide yawn, something that still made the newly homeless zebra smile despite the circumstances. Zee crouched down and ran a gentle hoof from the cat’s ears to his tail and almost fell for the temptation to lose herself in the touch of his fur and music of his purrs.
“Do you want to come with me, Kett?” she asked her pet with a grin. No, it wasn’t the most creative name, but Zee was never very good at naming things. It was easier to just change ‘cat’ into something that sounded unique.
The feline didn’t answer her or nod; he just dropped to his belly and continued to purr with each stroke of his owner’s hoof along his spine. It was close enough for her, so she stood up to start packing her things. Her tail flipped up the lid of the saddlebasket that was hanging from a hook on her wall, and Zee quickly grabbed a pouch of the sliced fish Kett loved to eat.
Next were two boxes of dried oats from the market and a few fresh peaches, along with a knife to cut the fruit and mix it with the grains; her favorite meal, and hopefully something that would make her life away from home a little more bearable. The zebra turned to the far side of her bed and flung the food into her basket with her tail, grinning with each creak of wicker under the new weight that said she made the shot.
Zee flopped down on the bed and swung her forelegs and head over the far side to dig through the unorganized pile of fabrics and beads that covered the corner of her floor. She needed something for the heat of summer, and one of her old shawls would be perfect. It only took a moment to decide on her favorite one -a knitted tan and white striped wrap that her mother had made- and hastily wrap it over her neck. And of course she needed a scrunchy to match it, at least that’s what she thought ponies called them. She had never seen one until she was almost 10, and her mom said it looked good in her limp mane, so she always kept her hair pulled back in a little tail. A small white one would work, so she switched it for the blue one that she was wearing that morning.
After she was dressed and ready, Zee flipped her basket shut and slung it over her back with a sigh. Kett jumped onto her rump and curled up for a nap, convinced that he needed to go with her wherever she was about to go. The zebra looked around with a refreshed sadness as a foreboding fear overcame her; part of her mind screamed that she would never see that room or any part of her home again.
So much was being left behind, but she just told herself it was only for a while. The war couldn’t last forever, and when it ended she could go home and hopefully continue her life like nothing happened. She might need a few new stacks of straw for her business and a trip to the market for fresh food, but everything else would still be there.
Zee cracked open her bedroom door and peeked outside. Sure enough, Celery and the other two ponies were still out there waiting for her, and he didn’t look very happy. His face hung in a frown while he looked up and down the street, likely thinking about years gone by and the neighbors he was being forced to pull away from it.
She couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like for him to do that to the zebras he spent his entire life around, and even after going off to Canterlot to become a soldier she could see in his eyes that he wasn’t like some of the other ponies; he didn’t hate zebras like they did. He didn’t hate her, because he knew her. Which is why he would understand why she couldn’t go with him. Living with the other zebras sounded nice on some level; being among the friends and neighbors that she had grown up with and gotten to love, but being crammed in a nasty camp until ponies and zebras stopped hating each other for reasons she couldn’t even understand wasn’t something she could do.
If there was one thing that Zee’s mom had taught her, it was that she needed to do what she felt was right; and living in the zebra camp wasn’t what she thought was right. She just hoped that what she was doing wouldn’t get Celery in trouble or hurt, and that he would forgive her if it did.
“Sorry,” she mouthed to him and closed her bedroom door. A hop, skip and a jump later, and the lithe zebra was out her window and into the alleyway behind her home.
* * *
He saw the first trail as it formed overhead. They had said it might come, but everyone was skeptical. There was no way anyone would actually do it, that was just stupid and foolish for anyone to do. They had to know it wouldn’t only come from one side, nobody would actually think it would end well. And yet, there it was; the literal beginning of the end.
One of the new recruits saw it first; it wasn’t hard to see on such a clear day over New Oatleans. She paid it no mind at first, but as it continued to stretch over the sky to the Northwest into Equestria, she pointed up to it and asked what it was. Lieutenant Celery Stalk followed the young mare’s hoof up to the sky and dropped the practice rifle he was holding in his jaw. The metal clanged against the concrete of the training range, but it was only a dull thud in his ears.
His mind didn’t register much of anything for the first few minutes, especially not the ponies all around him looking up and dropping their jaws in awe and horror. He tried to tell himself that it couldn’t have been what it looked like, and that it was just one of the Shadowbolts or a test fire, but deep down he knew what it was and what it meant. When the second contrail streaked overhead panic broke over Spurris Airbase.
Alarms blared from every building as soldiers poured from the barracks and mess hall to look up and make sure it wasn’t just a drill. They had rehearsed it countless times before, but it was always announced to make sure no patrols were out or flights were taking off. They all thought that maybe someone had accidentally hit the alarm, or that they somehow missed the word, but for the first and only time, it wasn’t a drill.
By the time the third launch from the south reached the air over New Oatleans, one of the officers a few meters from Celery pointed west and screamed about return fire. Everyone spun to where he pointed, expecting that the launches were coming with an attack, but instead they watched as a blast of green-arcane energy swirled into the sky, then another and another; massive scale balefire spells in response to the zebra missiles..
None of the incoming weapons were heading anywhere near New Oatleans, at least not yet; it was only a minor target compared to larger cities like Canterlot or Manehattan, but every soldier on Spurris could feel the heat and death of the blasts. Perhaps it was just their minds preparing them for what would inevitably come their way.
When the shock finally wore off, Celery’s senses screamed as the numbing ring in his ears gave way to screaming and unending alarms. It was almost like the propaganda films they showed foals about how to survive such an event, except unlike the corny and fake missiles that appeared in those movies, the sight of those things overhead filled the stallion with a fear he didn’t even think was possible.
His hooves jumped into action and carried him due east with frantic speed to reach the massive Stable that was the first, last, and only evacuation destination for the male ponies of New Oatleans in the event of a theoretical balefire strike. Except that ‘theoretical’ attack had suddenly become more real than any nightmare he had ever experienced. The female soldiers all ran to the vertibucks and other troop transports as they spun up and roared to life for the trip to the western Stable; the one only for females. It seemed pointless and stupid to Celery that they should be split up like that, but the masterminds up at Stable-Tech had decided it was the best choice apparently.
A quick glance back to the sky while he ran didn’t do anything to calm him; the beautiful blue sky of day was tainted and overshadowed by the crisscrossing contrails that represented the pinnacle of death and war itself. It really was the end, and the city of New Oatleans had front-row seats to watch the curtain slowly start to close.
The ‘calm and orderly’ evacuation that the instructional Stable-Tech video had called for went out the window as soon as those contrails appeared overhead, and Celery could barely avoid being trampled in the flood of fleeing soldiers as they raced to get to the only truly safe place in the city. For a brief moment his thoughts flashed over to the zebras that they had trapped in the camp just north of the city, but there was nothing he could do. It was at least a few hours away walking, and he would count it as a miracle to reach the Stable that was only a few minutes away before one of those contrails ended on top of his city.
He apologized to them all in his own head and prayed to the Princesses that they would go somewhere better when the fire of death overcame them, and kept running. He wished that he could have helped just one of them, but he knew it wouldn’t have mattered -the ponies in charge of letting everyone into the Stable would probably push zebras off a cliff before letting them live in the bunker.
By the time he reached the Stable, a massive line of soldiers had formed as they waited to be ushered in by whoever was at the door. He was a fast runner, but there were plenty who ran faster than him, and it was paying off for them. One at a time, unicorn, pegasus and earth pony soldiers were granted entry to their eternal home under the earth; overall a very slow process that made everyone who wasn’t up front start to question if they would live long enough to get inside.
As he waited, Celery risked a look over to a small, abandoned suburb less than 100 feet away from the line; a place that had once been an almost entirely zebra community. Those ponies who lived with them had run away when the zebras did -off into the Nightmare Marshes where they were probably already dead- and were considered as traitors and enemies. They were a constant thorn in Spurris’ side, but that suddenly didn’t matter.
Among the trashed and empty buildings, Celery caught sight of a face that quickly disappeared when he looked over, and for a moment he suspected that those runaways might actually be planning to take the Stable for themselves. The hair down his spine stood on end, and his head slowly lowered toward the pistol on his leg.
But when the head poked back out, the fear left him. Something about the zebra looking at him seemed completely peaceful, nothing like someone that planned on killing him and escaping the apocalypse. They actually looked just as scared as him, if not more, and a little familiar. He looked further up the line and sighed at the sight of well over 80 other ponies ahead of him, and then looked back. At least 200 others had to be behind him, and he couldn’t remember if that many would be allowed in there. He did remember that they made that particular Stable larger than others to accommodate as many soldiers from the base as possible without risking food shortages, but even then it seemed like too many ponies were in line.
And then there were those civilians living in the city that hadn’t reached the line yet.
Celery growled to himself and looked back at the zebra who was watching from the abandoned community until they slinked off somberly. Inside his head he bucked himself against a wall and cursed that wish to save one of the zebras from the camp, then spun to the soldier behind him. Thankfully, it was one of the few who he actually got along with.
“Hey, save my spot, I have to piss,” he quickly explained and ran off toward the suburb.
“Oh thanks! I get to to next!” the other stallion called after him, but Celery didn’t hear it.
He ran to the spot where he had seen the zebra and looked around, but didn’t see them. His hoof dug into the dirt in frustration as he grumbled about not acting fast enough. Before he decided to turn back to the line, his eye caught the sight of a dirty cat glaring at him around a corner. Its little brown eyes bored into him and wouldn’t look away; it was very disconcerting.
He kicked some dirt at the cat. “Shoo, you’re creeping me out,” the stallion growled.
“Kett, come on,” a frantic voice suddenly said. A striped hoof reached out and grabbed the cat, pulling it out of sight with a muffled hiss.
Celery’s heart jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, and he quickly trotted forward. It couldn’t actually be her, right? What were the odds of her being right there, at that time, and that she hadn’t been caught and dragged to the camp? “Zee?” he asked softly and peered around the corner, hoping above hope that it would be her.
A single amber eye looked over an overturned cart, and Celery’s heart jumped again. “Celery?” the mare asked skeptically and slowly rose her head. “How did you know it was me?”
“I didn’t,” he told her and stepped forward.
“But you said my name,” she pointed out. “So you did know it was me?”
“Not at first,” he said and shook his head. “Nevermind.” He grinned and stepped closer to her, but didn’t go around the cart she was hiding behind. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“You are?” she asked but didn’t stand up any further. “Why?”
“You’re still my friend,” he explained warmly. “Even if you don’t like me very much.” The stallion tried to laugh, but it was a little hard when the sky was still filled with vapor and sirens.
Zee lifted her head a little further up and glanced to the sky before looking back down to Celery. “What are the missiles?” she asked. “Are they the big ones?”
The stallion sadly nodded. “They are.”
“So the war is ending?” The mare stood up and put the flustered cat on her rump. She looked filthy, and her body was marred with more than one gash or new hole since the last time Celery had seen her. Still, she didn’t seem as worried as he was. He nodded again and she actually smiled. “At least there will be no more hate then?” the mare suggested.
“No, I don’t think so,” he agreed and sat down. “What did you do, after you ran?” he asked, deciding that talking with an old friend was more fun than waiting in line to hopefully get into a giant metal cave where he would spend the rest of his life.
“I hid,” she said simply and stood up fully. “Did you get in trouble?”
Celery nickered and nodded. “Oh yeah. Command almost tore my head off,” he explained jokingly. “Luckily I only got a little demotion.”
“But your head is intact,” she pointed out. “That is a good thing.” Zee smiled and walked around the cart to sit beside the stallion. “I am sorry for running.”
“Don’t be, I would probably do the same if it was me,” he assured her happily. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Of course. I may not be a soldier, but I can take care of myself in one little city,” she claimed proudly.
“Yeah, you sure can,” he agreed and tried to ignore her injuries. His eyes drifted momentarily over to the line that was barely visible through a broken fence at the end of the street they were on, and he considered getting back in line before remembering that Zee wouldn’t be allowed to join him. Even if he tried to pull rank or pay off the pony at the Stable door, he knew they wouldn’t care; corporate types never did, especially not for big companies like Stable-Tech.
“You want to go to the metal bunker?” Zee suddenly asked from beside him.
The stallion snapped his attention away from the line and to her, a bit of shame on his face. “A little bit, yeah.” He looked away from her and frowned, a feeling of self loathing spreading through his gut. “I’m sorry, I’m just scared.”
“I think everyone is,” she told him softly. “Big bombs cause that sort of thing.” Zee smiled and felt the urge to hug the stallion, but she held herself back. “You should go if you want to.”
“No, I couldn’t leave you out here,” Celery told her and continued staring at a random rock in the street away from her. “It wouldn’t feel right.”
“Certain death feels right?” she asked him with a smirk. “That does not seem right.”
The stallion snickered and smiled. “I guess it doesn’t, does it?” He looked back over to her with a warm expression. “But I guess it does feel right.”
“Why does death feel right?” Zee asked and held her smirk.
Celery shrugged. “It just does. Maybe because spending the end of my life with a friend outside is more appealing than spending who knows how many years locked in a cave with ponies who I can’t stand?” He laughed and looked up to the criss-crossed sky. It still filled him with dread to see new lines forming every few seconds, but suddenly his made-up excuse made more sense than he thought it would.
“That does sound appealing,” the zebra agreed. “How long do you think we have?”
The stallion shrugged again. “Who knows? Could be any second now.”
Zee nodded and looked up to the sky for a moment, taking in the sight of the end of the world as she thought about how silly those old zebra legends about the stars falling and devouring the world or whatever they were supposed to be suddenly sounded. Of course it would be ponies and zebras to destroy themselves, not some lights in the sky.
And at least this way there was still a chance to stop the end between ponies and zebras, even if it had failed, there was always a chance. It was all ending, but it could have been worse. She could have been in that camp screaming to be let out as the guards ran off to reach a bunker, or she could have chosen to hide somewhere else that morning. Instead she was with one of her oldest friends for however long they had left to live; spending the end of the world with someone she cared for and that she hoped cared about her.
With hardly a thought, Zee leaned gently into Celery’s side and hoped he wouldn’t mind it. When his head tilted to rest on hers, a joyous grin curled over her lips and her eyes closed. It was probably a little strange to feel so happy and calm just because she had someone to lean on while they waited for their world to burn, but she didn’t really care. The world could end whenever it wanted as long as he was there to go through it with her.
