The Last of the 2000 Miles

by Chowatron

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Dark, Alternate Universe, Human, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3928

I don’t think anyone knows what really happened, but other survivors have taken to calling it ‘The Event’. In a cosmic coincidence, days after the first quake contact was made with a nation which quite literally appeared by magic.

In a post-apocalyptic landscape ravaged by natural disasters, a man returns to his hometown a year after ‘The Event’, having walked 2000 miles in search of the thing that matters most. He must traverse his wrecked hometown to discover the fate of his family. Whether they are living, dead or converted.
He is determined to finish the last of his 2000 mile journey; in one form or another.

Conversion Bureau tale set in the universe of I Am Alive

Published 2013-05-31 20:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-31 20:30:02 UTC

The Return

The Return

I put the camcorder on the hood of a derelict car. After pushing a few buttons it started to record. I was lucky enough to find it in one of the abandoned cars. I checked the memory for any footage first; it was empty.

“Test. Test.” I spoke out not sure if the sound was working, I went on anyway. “This a little awkward for me, but if you’re watching this I’m either converted or…” I closed my eyes and let out a short sigh. “Anyway. If you could deliver this message to my home, it’s Haventown, 27 Harbour street, right across from the park. If no one is there, feel free to keep this and learn from whatever mistake I made.”

I scooped the camera up into my hand and walked to my backpack. Some of its contents were emptied out.

“This is…Pretty much my life. My backpack,” It was a simple brown thing with two compartments and two pockets on the sides. “A climbing harness,” I am a, was a hobbyist climber. These days it was more of a survival skill. “Flashlight, couple of batteries, bottled water, canned food and a pistol. I’ve never even fired a gun before, ‘sides it’s not loaded so…” I began to return the objects to the pack. The bridge could be seen behind me. In the absence of wildlife and people I could hear the faint roar of the river, Haventon Narrows.

“I’m within city limits now. A few hours to fly out, over a year to walk back. I know that I’m probably crazy, but I can’t shake the feeling I’ll find you here.” I pressed my hands together as if in prayer. “I hope I do. Julie, without you and Mary, none of this makes any sense. Well, sitting here doesn’t get me any closer to you.” I turned off the camera for now, to preserve battery life.

I put my backpack back on my shoulders and tightened the waist strap. I wouldn’t want to drop it when climbing now, would I?

I had the bridge ahead of me to cross. Abandoned cars littered the area. I could imagine everyone in panic trying to leave. All it takes is for the front cars to stop and everything comes to a standstill. If people watched more movies they’d know that. Portions of the concrete had fallen from the bridge in places, leaving the bare supports exposed. One of the vertical supporting columns to the left looked climbable. That doesn’t mean it would be easy, but I’d crossed similar bridges that way before.

I was lucky there was a platform at the top for me to rest for a minute. Climbing always takes more out of you than you think, but you get better at judging. From here I could see the silhouettes of the high-rise buildings clearer now.

It was nice to see the place still standing, though it had seen better days.

I raised my left arm up and pressed the red sweatband against my forehead. The dust somehow managed to keep the temperature at a slightly cool level; it didn’t stop you getting warm from exercise. I just sat back and collected some idle thoughts.

I don’t think anyone knows what really happened, but survivors have taken to calling it ‘The Event’. It was a series of earthquakes, floods, ash and dust clouds that came from seemingly nowhere. The disasters were relentless though; they went day after day without letting up. Governments did what they could to help, but ash and dust kept people out the air, and fuel was a valuable commodity. The military put up makeshift shelters in less populated areas, where the air was cleaner and safer. It was a free-for-all of people trying to get out of cities.

In a cosmic coincidence, days after the first quake contact was made with a nation which quite literally appeared by magic. They were friendly, which was good as a war would cause more unrest in the displaced. The National Guard regiments had underestimated how quickly aid camps would fill. The US government –and the rest of the world’s governments I imagine- turned to the one unaffected nation for help.The president met with the Equestrian diarchy in an intense political struggle to secure the best possible result. In a speech given prior to leaving, the meeting was called ‘The Three Days to save America’.

Both sides must have fought their case valiantly, as when the announcement was made directly after, both sides were fatigued. I don’t know that part for a fact though; I was listening to it by radio on a hospital bed. The US would get the food, water and construction supplies as well as a substantial amount of pegasi weather control teams. Equestria had several requests: knowledge of industrialization and modern agricultural practises, protection under the USA’s nuclear umbrella, support in becoming a permanent seat with veto power in the United Nations and one more rather unusual request.
They wanted to start a scheme to encourage immigration to Equestria. The premise was, if you became an Equestrian citizen, you received all the benefits a born Equestrian would. Of course becoming an Equestrian citizen didn’t entail taking a test or extensive bureaucracy. There was also no ‘bleed for Equestria’ law in place either. To become eligible you had to become one of them: a pony. Giving up your body for asylum is a hard choice, at least is seems to be. It was one of the few things that remained constant in the uncertainty.

Anyone who hadn’t seen the process had every right to doubt the effects of the agent. Full metamorphosis seems unlikely, especially to beings that were different compared with how myth portrayed them, but it worked. I can’t say I’m sure as to how though. Something to do with stem cells, enchantments, alleles and magic? That’s just guesswork on my part though; I haven’t done biology for about ten years. You’re lucky I could think of that.

After my few minutes rest, I was ready to go again. The easiest way down I saw was an industrial strength cable. I slid down the cable. I was fortunate to be wearing gloves to lessen the burn.

The section of bridge I came down on was lower than the part ahead of me. I found myself a way by climbing the frame of a HGV trailer.

After that it was the figurative home stretch. Running towards the end of the bridge, my foot slipped as the ground gave way. I fell down the newly formed hole. I was lucky enough to propel myself forward enough to grab hold of an aqueduct. Pulling myself of up I was slightly shaken, but things like that happened to me often enough that I recovered. Survival is all about luck, you can do everything right and still wind up dead because the cosmos decides it hates you. I made a to note to tell that to the camcorder sometime.

With my only other choice being to leap into the rivers rapids, I pressed on ahead. A little further on I saw a light from around a corner. I walked up to it.

“Hey, you.” A voice called out to me. The light began to make sense now. With a mattress and several shelves, the place was obviously his home.

“You aren’t one of those PER guys are you?” The man said rising from his sitting position. I’d heard about the Ponification for Earths Rebirth movement, but I’d never crossed them. I have some trouble understanding how they think. They are sort of like one of those groups who want to ‘cure’ homosexuals. It is just unrealistic to get people to change like that. And while I admit ponification is an attractive idea, humanity isn’t gone yet. Governments were reclaiming ground. I heard they were working on increasing crop yields and installing pumps for water. Although progress is slow we can recover, if not in my lifetime then maybe Mary’s.

I put my hands In the air and began to backpedal. “I’m not. I’m just a guy passing through. See? Already gone.” I said as I reached the end of the tunnel. There was a collapse ahead that I could see light coming through from above. It showed the amount of dust in the air. It is weird to think about breathing it in with every breath.

After getting to the surface, I saw the main road ahead of me was cracked wider than I wanted to risk jumping. I knew I could double back and take a slightly longer way round safely. As I turned to walk away I thought I heard footsteps, more than one person.

I got low behind a car and looked across the crack. I could see an earth pony being chased by three men, the pony's brown coat not giving any camouflage. The pony reached the crack and realised that it was the end of the line. The men caught up. One walked out and kicked the pony. When they fell the group all began to beat the pony. It was a painful thing to watch, so I turned and walked. What could I do? Waving an empty pistol at them seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

I climbed over a chain-link fence down an ally. It lead out into a square, also enfenced. Another crack had torn through the ground across from the gate. Looking down, I saw a few split pipes, plumbing at a guess, and not much else. The gate to the fenced area was locked, but I wouldn’t let that keep me in.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

I turned around to face the voice, a lone man with a machete stood there. I wondered where he came from. A survey of the area suggested it was from the building to my right. A beat up wooden door linked the square and the house. The man took a step towards me and I reached for my gun. I held it in a reasonable position to fire, both hands on the grip.

“Back off.” I said confidently. I’d done this before. If they were unarmed, I’d tell them to run, but this guy had a machete, and I wasn’t in the risk taking mood.

The man threw the machete to the ground, put his hands where I could see them, and backed up. He backed up to the point where he could no more due to a crevice. This gave me an idea of how to dispose of the threat.
“And some more.” I said walking towards him.

“I can’t, I’ll…” I had closed the distance between us. I gave a sharp kick to his chest and he lost his balance. I didn’t watch him fall.

As I calmed from my confrontational mode, I began to think about what I had just done. Was I too harsh? They might not even be dead; they might have survived the fall. But that would mean they were in pain and…

I needed something to distract my mind. I picked up the machete from the floor. I could use it to force the lock; a good little mental outlet. I put the blade behind the chain and jerked it. After I few tries I succeeded and the gate flew open, knocking me back.

I recovered and stowed the machete on my back, loose enough for quick access, tight enough to prevent loss. Walking out of the gate, I could see the beaten pony to my right. I moved over to them. There was some blood, but I’d seen worse; watching your own bone stick out of you tends to make you a little more tolerant to some blood.

I crouched next to them. I could see the chest still heaving. It took until this close for me to indentify them as a mare. Her eyes opened slowly, the look pleading for help. Even if I managed to treat some of the surface wounds, deep damage would have already been done. The feeling of powerlessness was crushing.

I began stroking her; it was something I could do to ease the passing. As my hand passed through the mane the hair was surprisingly soft, horse hair was normally coarse. After a minute or so I heard steps behind me.

“Aw, grown man likes to play with ponies?” The leader mocked, that got to me slightly, but I didn’t rise.

“I don’t want to start anything,” I said. The leader walked towards me. I recognised his clothes; he was the one who beat the pony, probably for no reason more than fun. I guess he was there for a round two. He seemed intent on getting close. It struck me that I might end up the same.

I scanned the situation. The leader had a handgun, looked the same model as mine. One hung back, eagerly toying with a kitchen knife. The third was the least eager looking of the group, unarmed too. I needed a plan; one better than taking a leap of faith into the chasm behind me.

He got close enough to push me, he tried but I stood firm against it. I pulled out my machete. My swing hit him in the neck, the wound deep enough to kill. As the blood spurt started I pushed him aside, but not before wrenching the pistol from his hand. I shot the man with knife twice. Both shots hit, just not where I wanted. I do believe I mentioned never firing a gun before. One shot hit his lower abdomen, the other grazed his arm.

Training my gun on the last man, I noticed my hands were trembling. Wisely, he still didn’t test my resolve. Now, I was a real killer. I wouldn’t call it murder, it’s more like reasonable force. Justifying doesn’t make it easier unfortunately, sadly more bloodshed does. I recovered my machete and wiped the blood using the dead mans shirt. I then turned my attention to the last guy.

“Don’t follow me.” I ordered, before striking his head hard with the grip on my pistol. He’d be down for a few minutes; he probably would be feeling it for longer.

Carrying on down the street I came across an ambulance, the door was swinging idly in the wind. I approached and checked inside. Most of the good stuff was taken, but I turned up a length of bandaging, a mostly used box of allergy suppressants and a ointment used for burns. Not all that useful to me, but I could maybe trade with it, and my backpack wasn’t exactly hurting for space.

On one of the alleys I travelled down, the wall was littered with missing posters, most were likely dead by now. It also had a small shelter, over half my height, the right size for a pony. It was made of corrugated iron sheets loosely thrown together. It was obviously a temporary arrangement.

As I walked past it a natural curiosity compelled me to look. I crouched on to one knee and leaned in. There was a light blue coated unicorn inside. They had a look of fear in their eyes. Something must have shaken them up.

“Have you seen a pony nearby?” The unicorn asked after what may as well have been hours. The staring between us allowed me to get a good look at the unkempt mane. It wasn’t as though I was totally free on that account either though. My hairs seemed to tend less towards black and more towards brown thanks to the dust.

“Brown, earth pony?” I asked, hoping for both our sakes he wouldn’t say yes. To explain what happened would leave me emotionally drained for a while.

“Yeah, you seen them?” The pony’s eyes filled with hope, mine were left empty of such things. I swallowed before breaking the news.

“Yeah, I have. And I’m so sorry.” There were no easy ways to break a loss to someone, but I imagine more delicate ones exist. I don’t even know the relation they had. They could have been friends, family, lovers, not like that makes it easier to lose them.

The pony’s large expressive eyes made the look of them that much harder to bear. So I looked away. I amused myself by taking the magazine out my new pistol to count the rounds, or rather the round. I loaded it again and swapped it with the one in my holster.

With a little effort I got the empty gun into my backpack without removing it. The unicorn who had left his shelter, just watched me apprehensively. Contact with strangers is always awkward, but that position was more so. I wasn’t sure what to say, or even if to say anything. I could have just walked away, but I didn’t.

“I didn’t let them get away with it.” I said as a small comfort.

The unicorn refocused his gaze, I deduced that he must have zoned out. I repeated what I said, this time with his attention.

“That’s a thank you, I suppose.” He said. Not being very talkative. I tried to talk to him again.

“So, are you Equestrian or-“

“We just couldn’t take the waiting.” The unicorn came out with. “The waiting for the government to do something. We didn’t want relief, we wanted recovery. Just a little bit of stability after the apocalypse y’know? Equestria offered that. The Port Siena incident was enough to tip us over the edge. After what happened there nowhere seemed safe. So we converted and went to get to the nearest harbour. But the boats are getting less and less frequent here. It feels like the only groups left that cares about this part of the country are the resource scrapped National Guard units that are left from Port Siena and their reactionary splinter group, the Human Liberation Front.”

I wanted to squeeze a little more out of him about this Port Siena incident, but I thought it best to leave them to their own devices. I gave a goodbye and my best wishes to him, not like it would be of much use. I began to think about Port Siena. It was the next major coastal town going north. I have never been there, but I know it isn’t as built up as Haventon. That would mean less dust, making it a good place for a camp.

I walked the streets some more until I came to another crack in the street. This one looked traversable. A lamppost had fallen to provide a bridge. A narrow bridge that could slip at any time, but I was minutes away from home; going around wasn’t an option.

I put my left foot onto the post. I would have taken a deep breath, but with the dust in the air, that wouldn’t have been too wise. I then put my right foot in front of the left. I had now left stable ground. I tried not to panic as I traversed the gap. If you panic, you get jumpy. If you get jumpy your balance goes to hell. I generally have pretty good balance; if I had the upper body strength and flexibility, I could easily make it as a trapezist.

A minute of walking later, I saw a familiar sight. A small park. The park was a small square with standard swing and see-saw affair.

I took a look at my apartment. The red brickwork had taken on a more greyish tone, but so had everything after the event. For its location in town it was pretty good. Two stories, two bedrooms and a kitchen of workable size.

“This is it. Home.” I said to myself, pulling the camcorder from my bag and turning it on; I wanted this moment recorded.
“Well, my apartment is still standing; that’s a good sign. Wasn’t sure I would ever see this place again.” I walked up to the door and opened it. There was nobody there to greet me; no pony either. “Marry? Julie? Are you there?” My voice got more desperate with each question. I sighed, but kept my hopes high. No one was in the living room, so what?
I checked the kitchen. Empty.

The master bedroom was empty too. There wardrobe was barren of clothes. Why weren’t mine there? Me and Julie didn’t leave off on the best note, but we’d had problems before. I took a mental step back; there was likely a valid reason. A change of clothing is a luxury in some cases. A shirt a little too big is better than no shirt at all.

I checked Mary’s room. No one there. I did notice something of interest on the dresser. There were photographs of ponies, with drawings underneath. She wasn’t the best artist, but I was barely a step up, so I couldn’t criticise. It made sense that she liked equestrians; you do just feel a little more…fuzzy inside when you are near them. It’s a hard feeling to describe.

Back in the living room, I noticed a photo on the mantelpiece. It was of me, Julie and Mary on a summer day out of the city. I looked at the trees in the background, the clear sky too; there was only one place I knew of where things were like that nowadays.

I was wondering why she left it until a letter fell out from behind as I picked up the frame. Placing the camcorder on the mantelpiece facing towards me, I unfolded the letter.

We have to go now because of the earthquakes. It's very hard to get precise information about the evacuation plan. I have no idea where we'll be in the next hour. If only you were here. I would tell you I forgive you for everything. For now, all we can do is pray that you're alive. And if you are, I know you'll come back here. We'll try to stay in Haventon, but we'll go wherever's safest. With Mary I can't take any risks. We’re considering the bureau on Crockett Street, I think you know where that is. We love you, not a moment goes by that we're not thinking about you. Try to find us. We'll be waiting for you.
Julie and Mary – May 23rd

“Almost a year ago.” I said to myself.

My reaction to the letter was on film, but nothing could really replicate the feelings of regret and shame. For what was supposed to be a happy day in a bleak world, turned out to be a day that made the world seem rosy.
it

When I spoke, it wasn’t to the camcorder, but the family I let down.

“I’m so sorry that you’ve had to go through all this without me. Earthquakes. Dust storms. Then what came next? Food shortages. Hunger. Thirst. Your letter mentioned a bureau on the other side of town. A smart choice, but one we should have made together. While I walked back I was thinking, I was just…just hoping, to see you standing here.” I let out a small laugh void of enthusiasm. “How could I?”

As I was standing, I was thrown forward towards the mantelpiece. Everything shook violently around me. Aftershock.

Author's Note

If anyone has any questions regarding the fic or the universe surrounding it, comment or PM me. I'll be happy to answer.

Proofreading credit goes to Alex Nuage.