One Day in the Wasteland

Chapter 2: Midday

Fractured black veins spread throughout the landscape, stretching out to the horizon. The wild wind whispered into my mind. From our position, we could see the rotting, grey skeleton of what once had been a prosperous town called Ponyville, which had long since joined countless other cities in ruin all over the Wasteland. Looking around, we spotted a trio of Radscorpions minding their own business.

Mecha was shaking, and no matter how many times I asked her, she always insisted that she was fine with a distinct note of panic in her voice.

“Are you sure that you still want to do this? We can always try another day when you’re more relaxed, or at least when you stop trembling so much.” I kneeled beside her and rested my hand on her shoulder. I felt every one of her muscles relaxing at the same time her face rapidly turned red. Intrigued, I asked, “You alright? Is something the matter?”

Mecha shook her head so fast I thought it’d snap. “Do-Don’t worry, I got this! I-I’ll show you wha-what I’m made of!”

I watched Mecha and allowed her to fight the battle herself. As easily as I could stomp the mutant arachnids into goop, and a much as I didn’t want to see my friend get hurt, I would only intervene if I had to. A halo of magic wrapped the varmint rifle as she adopted the same stance I taught her and aimed at the mutated creatures. She held the stance for a long time. At first, I thought was was trying to get a perfect shot, but no, it was taking too long for that. “Fire,” I whispered.

Mecha held her breath and pulled the trigger, firing a single bullet. Almost immediately, it struck one of the beasts, and a fountain of blood erupted from its head. The remaining ones were alerted and started to run heading straight towards our position with raised stingers, clacking their claws.

Her bravado didn't last long. She began to shake and pant, quietly cursing under her breath, “Buck! Buck! Buck!” She fired four shots more, but only scored a glancing hit on a claw. The creature didn’t even flinch.

Click-click – the loudest sound when you expect a book. She stumbled with the trigger for several seconds before she thought to reload the gun, but I knew that they would reach us before she could even take aim. Her wild, dilated pupils told me everything I had to know. I drew my 9 mm pistol with practiced ease and fired thrice. Bang! Bang! Bang! Two gruesome holes broke through the exoskeleton, but the third tore through its head. The Radscorpion fell to the ground, its blood staining the warren sands. The last one was undeterred as it rushed madly for us.  I pulled the trigger again, but nothing happened. The slide refused to close fully – failure to feed. I knew I should’ve gone with a .45 Auto pistol.

I felt hooves tug at my side. “Adrian, do something…!” I looked down at Mecha. I remembered how we’d gotten here, and that I’d sworn to protect her. I could not let her down! I let my hot, rising, anger guide my focus. Okay, I thought. This is no different than any other bug hunt. Just calm down and let your body remember the motions. Surely enough, after taking that brief moment to regain composure, my body remembered what it was supposed to do. I dropped the magazine, holding it partially out of the pistol. I racked the slide three times, sending one cartridge out the ejection port and another falling out the bottom. I looked down the top and saw a clear chamber. I pushed the magazine up with my ring and pinkie, allowed the slide to close, and exhaled as I slid back into shooting form.

I aimed at the scorpion between the eyes and squeezed the trigger. Bang! It collapsed like a sack of caps. It was dead, but I didn’t stop there. I continued to shoot the monster over and over until my mag ran dry. Then, I kicked the dead body as hard as I could in frustration, taking a few deep breaths until I finally cooled down. “That’s for my friend!” Ironic, considering we attacked first.

I could feel Mecha’s head gently nudging against my waist, going up and down. She spoke to me, her voice filled with sorrow and sadness. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have panicked.”

My anger spent, I crouched down to her eye level before hugging her. “No, it’s not your fault. I should have waited before sending you to the battlefield. You’re not fit for this, Mecha.” I was an idiot for trying to turn her into myself. After all, she was born in a bunker without knowledge of the world beyond the steel door. “I don’t want to get you killed because I was too stupid to realize that you’re still not ready for this.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m ready for anything you can throw me! I just got nervous because they’re so big, and with those pincers and stings, and-”

She had ignored everything I said, so I cut her off. “I know, I know, don’t worry. Next time you should try the S.V.A.T.S aiming system and try aiming for their heads; I set you up with it for a reason. And don’t start shooting so wildly. If you waste too much ammo, you won’t be able to defend yourself. I think we should leave our training for another day, when you’re ready. ”

A smile appeared on her face, quickly followed by a big grin. “Yeah, you’re right. But don’t worry, I promise you do it better the next time we find one of those things. I will be somepony you can be proud of,” she replied, rubbing her head against my arm.

“I’m already proud of you, Mecha. You don’t have to show me that you can do everything; just focus on what you do best.” She levitated up the two unspent cartridges, as well as the brass casing from the ground.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but I want to do something else. Just because I have a cutie mark for repairing things does that mean that I can’t try something else, like...” She struggled to find a word. “I don’t know, but I want to develop my other skills.” What was she, my little lamb, my lost puppy?

I set off again. She followed and we spoke as we went along. I patted her on the head, cajoling, “Don’t worry, Mecha. You will have plenty of time to develop all of your skills. But as of now, just keep focused on learning how to use guns. And remind me to fix this junk when I find some spare parts.” I checked the pistol magazine. Five bullets left and another ten full mags of ammo. “This should be enough to take care of any more mutated creatures we could find as long as it doesn’t fail again.”

“You can leave them to me,” she replied before reloading. The gun answered with a happy clack. The rest of our travel remained undisturbed, and I couldn’t help but feel rusty after spending so many years underground and leading a life without monsters, mutants and such. I wasn’t allowed to use guns because of fear that I would go on rampage; they obviously didn’t know how easily one can build a weapon or even a bomb with the right ingredients. And that’s discounting the fact that you can kill someone quite effectively with something as common as a rock or even a fork.

We continued through the remnants of the road towards the ruins of what was once known as Ponyville. Experience told me that straying away from the roads will lead you right into a nest of Cazadores, or even worse, Hellhounds. It’s not strange to hear about travelers who tried to take a shortcut and disappeared without a trace. Even entire groups have vanished without a single survivor, and no one knows what happened to them, although it doesn’t take a genius to imagine what really happened.

There, below the horizon, was Ponyville, lying in wait for us like a sad stump of a formerly healthy tree. We stepped into the town. I felt calmer now that we were out of the wide of expanse of the wasteland -- concealed from troubled.

Ponyville was different from the other towns that still remained in Equestria. While most towns were composed, or reduced to apartment blocks, this particular town was plagued with skeletons of wooden buildings reduced to rubble and firewood, yet nowhere did we find any traces of metal beams or concrete. Only a few buildings remained standing, the rest now turned into improvised coffins for the unfortunate souls who thought they would be safe from the Great War.

Mecha was trembling, constantly checking her Littlepip in search of any enemies hiding nearby. “You don’t think that these buildings contain those hideous creatures ready to attack, right?”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of a few Radscorpions by myself.”

“I know, but for a moment, there I thought you were injured. With all that blood flying, and…” Words failed her, but I already knew what was going through her head. I couldn’t blame her, since even I had doubts that I could fight a group of Bloatflies on my own.

But I wasn’t going to show fear or weakness in front of her. That would’ve made her even more afraid.

I put on my best arrogant grin. “Hey, you’re with one of the best survivors of the entire Wasteland. That Radscorpion couldn’t scratch me, much less kill me. Trust me, everything will be alright.” She didn’t say anything, but the smile spreading through her face was all I needed to see. My Littlepip emitted a few beeps, bringing my attention to the small screen, now telling me that the map had been updated with the location of Ponyville’s ruins. Wonderful device, that Littlepip. Never loses track of anything. Never gives you up. Never lets you down. Never runs out of juice and deserts you. I don’t know what I’d do without it. Littlepip is love. Littlepip is life.

I continued looking at the ruins that stood around us. Even though this place had once been a town, it was probably the size of a small city, able to contain hundreds of families. As we walked through countless alleys and streets, we stumbled upon a pitiful sight. A white unicorn stallion had been gagged and tied down to a chair, placed at the end of the alley.

Mecha started, “Adrian, look at that!”

I’d already seen what she was pointing at. “What about it,” I shrugged.

She gave me her pouty eyes. “There’s a poor pony over there, tied up. Aren’t we going to help him?”

I hate it when she gets like this. “No.”

“But why? He’s right there. He must be dying of thirst, come on!”

But of course that would’ve been too easy; the entire place had to be full of mines ready to blow up as soon as anyone idiot enough tried to get close enough; one step and the entire chain reaction would reduce our bodies to chunks of meat. His green mane was splattered with blood that fell down his face. His entire body was covered with bruises, cuts and even some scars, his yellow eyes trembling and crying from fear.

“Mecha, it’s a trap. Raiders like to mine places you’d think have goodies. And this one just had to come with a hostage to sweeten the deal.”

Mecha could hardly speak. “By Celestia… That’s horrible!” She turned back to me, her eyes burning with determination. “We have to save that pony!”

“Yeah, I know. But we can’t go rushing there, unless you want to blow up in so many pieces you would turn into a flesh puzzle.” Even though the mines had been buried, it was easy to notice the countless bumps protruding from the soil. Most of them had already been uncovered by the wind, and a simple breath was enough to uncover their red, blinking eyes, waiting to explode as soon as we stepped inside the alley. “Luckily, the only model of mines you can find nowadays after the war can’t be buried underground because they use a motion sensor. I’m glad that materials are so scarce, or else we would have a Wasteland full of these little bastards under our feet.”

“So, what’s the plan then? Leave him to die of starvation and thirst? Or maybe put a bullet between his eyes to stop his suffering?”

A shit eating grin stretched around my face. “You know what? That sounds like a good idea.”

Mecha stared at me with the same scared eyes of her first time meeting a Cazador. “Pease, tell me you’re joking…”

"Mecha, for how long have we known each other now?" I asked.

"About three years, I think."

"And you still can't tell when I'm joking?"

She shot me an icy glare. “There’s nothing funny about killing an innocent pony.”

"Perdón.”

She waved a smile at me. “You’re forgiven. So, what about this guy? Are we going to save him or what?”

“Well, there’s a way to save him, but it’s a bit risky…” I wasn’t very proud of what I was going to do, but this was a good chance that I couldn’t allow to slip past. “Mecha, can you come, please?” She approached cautiously, as if a single misstep could trigger the entire alley of mines. “Do you want to learn how to disarm land mines with magic?”

Her pupils shrank and her ears flattened against her head. “You’re going to force me even if I refuse, right?”

“Of course not! I want to teach you how to deactivate a trap if you ever find one. And these mines will be the first lesson.” I pointed towards the closest one.  “They only explode if you get close to them, so you can always use your magic to place them somewhere else. They can be deactivated, but that’s only possible when they’re ready to blow up in your face. Don’t ask me why.

Whoever invented these things was a real idiot. It’s a bit risky, but it works as long as you know what you’re doing.”

“If this goes wrong and we die, I swear to Celestia that I will resurrect us so that I can kill you again.”

“But who’d teach you stuff, then?”

”Alright then. Wish me luck.”

She put her safety glasses and concentrated her attention on one of the mines. A green light enveloped the mine and slowly but steady, it started to float towards us, carefully not to drop it on the way. As soon as it crossed the doorframe, an alarming beeping started a countdown towards our death, but Mecha didn’t run away or even flinch; she trusted me more than anyone in the

Wasteland, and anyone else would just run away and leave me alone with the bomb.  After deactivating the mine, I dismantled the explosive charge to avoid any more trouble and placed it inside my backpack.

Mecha was still worried. “Are you sure that it won’t explode?”

“Why are you asking that? You don’t trust me?”

“I’d say that the answer is pretty obvious if I had to ask you in the first place.” That was a good point.

“Don’t worry. The worst that could happen is that you’ll get covered with my blood, entrails, and maybe some teeth.”

“Thanks. I love you too.” Her deadpan expression was priceless.

It took us a long time to disarm all the mines. Those raiders probably wasted an entire arsenal just for this stupid trap. Did they really expect someone to get killed by this? Or maybe they only did this to avoid the pony from escaping? Whatever their reason, it didn’t matter to me. We finally released the white unicorn, trembling like a piece of jelly, always staring at me as if I was some kind of monster. He immediately fell to the ground and kissed it.

Mecha was the first one to talk. “Are you alright? Who did this to you?” The stallion didn’t reply, or to be more precise, he couldn’t.

He opened his mouth to give us a good look inside. Where once was a tongue, all that remained now was a small blob of flesh wriggling around like a fish out of the water. Mecha was clearly repulsed by such sight. “Oh my gosh… Who did this to you?”

The white unicorn scribbled on the ground with his hoof the best he could. “Slavers.” I felt bad for him. He couldn’t use sign language on account of not having the fingers, but it was a safe bet that he didn’t have the knowledge.

“Wait, you can use this,” Mecha replied. She took out a pencil and a small notebook from one of her backpacks enveloped in a jade shade and handed them to the unicorn. “So, you’re a slave?”

A white glow appeared on the pen and the pony started to scribble something. The pencil stopped and he turned the notepad around. “I escaped from them long ago, but I was captured by a band of human raiders. You should watch out. They may be still in this town.”

“That explains why you were so afraid of me,” I replied. “How long have you been here?”

He scribbled a bit more. “About a day or so. They beat me up, but they got bored because I didn’t scream before finding out I didn’t have a tongue.” Mecha’s eyes widened, but then she gave just a little nod, as if accepting that this was and would be reality in the Wasteland.

I offered my hand, and he used it to stand up. “Do you want our help? I mean, you’re all bruised and got a lot of injuries, and wandering the Wasteland alone is dangerous.”

The stallion refused. “No, thanks, I would be a load for you. Besides, I don’t have a place to call my home anymore.” With those last words, the white unicorn returned Mecha her pencil and notepad before leaving the alleyway. We stood there, watching as he disappeared around the corner.

“Adrian, do you think we will ever see him again?”

I wanted to see what that look earlier had been about. “Probably not,” I said.

She took it in stride, just as I had thought. “I’m worried about him. We could’ve pointed him to Small Town. He could’ve been safer than wandering alone like that.”

“Well, now it’s a bit late for that.” I didn’t dare to confess Mecha that I had deliberately neglected to mention Small Town. The only reason they ever accepted us was because a human and a pony getting along is the best sign that we’re not raiders. For some reason, Raiders seemed to always organize themselves by species, like human, pony, griffon… If they ever tried this trick, I bet they didn’t last more than five seconds before killing each other.

As we walked through the empty streets and crumbling houses, there was one thing caught my attention. It was an old, giant tree sitting in the middle of what seemed to be a plaza at some point. The shattered windows allowed me to take a look at the inside, but I could see little in the pitch blackness inside. A black scar was carved on its skin starting at its roots and rising towards the tree’s crown. The few branches that managed to last this far were now naked, resembling a group of hands that stretched out for help. The rest of the tree wasn’t that damaged, but there were obvious traces of vandalism still imprinted on the bark.

Mecha was the first to break the silence.  “So, what do you think that happened here?”

“I’d say that’s probably the work of raiders having fun.” I had visited too many raiders’ nests to identify their signature between all the wreckage and damage done by the war. I gestured Mecha to get closer and to lower her voice as I gripped the varmint rifle, ready to shoot anything that moved.

“Do you think they’re still around?” she whispered.

”I don’t know. Maybe it’s abandoned, but it’s as rare as surviving a Hellhound’s attack.” I checked my Littlepip in search of any warning of a raider ambush. Nothing.

Mecha’s voice destroyed the silence that surrounded us. “Then maybe we’re lucky.” I raised an eyebrow. “I mean, you survived an attack from a Hellhound, and even managed to kill him in the process. It’s my favorite story of yours.” Still my little fangirl.

I remember that story. How could I even forget it? If it hadn’t been for that Hellhound, I wouldn’t have been allowed into the Stable Vault, which started this journey in the first place.

I expelled those thoughts from my mind, focusing on our current situation. Slowly approaching the door, I examined my surroundings in search of any hidden trap, but I didn’t find anything. A red small door built for an average pony’s height proved to be the only way inside. We were careful, so as to avoid the raiders’ favorite way of marking their presence: booby traps.

I whispered, “Mecha, stay far from this door. There could be an explosive trap or something similar if I try to open it.” She nodded before backing away as far as she could to avoid a possible blast. I pressed the handle firmly and pushed as slow as I could, trying to get a peek inside, but I couldn’t see anything as far as a few feet in front of me. “I can’t see anything.” Her hooves clopped.

“That means it’s safe to go, right?” Mecha opened the door with a single push so fast I barely had time to stop her from going inside.

Something thin entered my sight, setting off alarm bells in my head. I leapt for her. “¡Cuidado!” BOOM!

I could barely see the cable snapping under her hooves before a hole was blown through the old door, sending splinters flying everywhere. The next thing I remember is holding Mecha as far as possible from the entrance.

I waited for my ears to stop ringing, and in case if there were any secondary traps before I asked her, “Are you alright?”

The green unicorn looked all over her body in search of any injuries, but luckily they were nowhere to be found. “I think so…”

I felt the urge to bitch slap her, but resisted. “Why did you rush inside!? If I had been a millisecond late, you’d be dead now!”

Tears. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t want to…”

“Oh, you didn’t want to do it? Well, you’re forgiven.” I suddenly burst like a fiery volcano. “Do you think that being sorry is going to help you if you activate one of these traps? What if the shotgun had been pointing in front of the door? Or if instead of a shotgun there had been a cluster of grenades hanging from the ceiling ready to blow up?”

The little pony was trembling, her eyes brimming in tears. ”I-I know… I didn’t want to put us in danger. It’s just that I was so excited to find new books to replace the ones I brought from the Stable Vault that...” She sat down on the hard floor as small pearls fell, one after another. Her hard hat covered her face, like a shield that would spare her the humiliation of being seen so weak.

I did not regret my necessary harshness, but I couldn’t do with her shutting down like this. I slowly kneeled down to her eye level and hugged her tightly as her tears formed a pool on my shoulder. I held her head close to me as my fingers played with the countless threads that composed her mane. I could feel her hooves wrapping around my body as she embraced me as tightly as her legs could. Time stopped for us during our hug and resumed its course again as we slowly distanced from each other.

“When I heard the gunshot, there was a moment there where I saw you on the floor, dead. Your face was splattered in blood, and your entrails were scattered everywhere as they escaped from your torso. And your face…” I choked as I continued. “Your face was devoid of life. The light in your eyes was slowly fading out, and your mouth moved, but no words came out. But I still managed to understand them…” I was on the verge of tears. “You called my name, wondering where I was. It felt like a premonition of what would’ve happened if I hadn’t pulled you out.”

The green unicorn wiped away her tears. “Can you forgive me for being so stupid?”

“I already did.” I stood up and peeked inside the library, making sure that there wouldn’t be any more traps around.

I knew something about tree houses, but I never thought I would see a tree house. Or library house, in this case. We strolled through the door and took a gander at the inside. The library had been carved from the living tree, with countless books resting on endless shelves and a stump resting in the center of the room, probably serving as a table. Our Littlepips and the open doorframe were our only sources of life. They casted long shadows all over the place and allowing us to see how much damage had been done.

Most of the books left were scattered on the floor with their pages ripped out, and even some scorched copies. The walls were painted with blood, bullet holes and graffiti with slogans like “Death to humans”, “Fuck the Brotherhoof of Steel” and “Suck it up and choke, Enclave”. That’s when I noticed a small pool of blood dripping from the ceiling with the rhythm of an old clock. I had the urge to look at the ceiling, worried that it may be another trap.

Good news: no traps up there. Bad news: I’ll be seeing this shit in my nightmares every night until I die.

The light that entered the library from the front door was casting strange figures, all of them similar, but very different from each other. Looking back to the door, I noticed that some shreds of light were pointing upwards to the ceiling; I lifted my gaze upwards, only to be greeted by mutilated corpses of their victims. Ponies and humans alike were hanging from the ceiling with meat hooks and chains lodged inside their bodies, missing body parts and some of them even being reduced to a simple torso. The expressions of fear frozen in their faces told me that they didn’t have a quick and painless death.

I could hear the horrified voice of Mecha, struggling to control her stomach. “By Celestia… So many people… How could they do something like this?”

I shook my head. “Because they can. No order, no laws, nobody to stop them… That’s a raider for you, Mecha. When you deal with them, death is the only mercy they know.” I hated those bastards more than anything in the entire Wasteland, and I knew very well how they worked and what kind of sick, twisted games they played on their victims. They even like to play cruel games like blinding their victims and leaving them in the middle of a mine field.

“Yeah, I can see it.” She approached one of the shelves and started to look among all the books, placing the ones left untouched inside her saddlebags. “Let me get some books and we can leave this place to never return again.”

“Alright, but don’t wander off. I’ll go and take a look around this place. If you need something or someone attacks you, just scream.”

The upper floors of the library were no better. Anything that could have been considered valuable had been either destroyed or stolen by those raiders, making my search pointless. The last place I could search was the basement, with the door firmly locked. The door had all kinds of damage, ranging from bullet holes, scratches and even what I assumed were traces of explosives. If this thing had managed to last this far, that meant there was something good or important on the other side.

Using a bobby pin, I spent a few minutes working on its bowels until the door finally opened with a mournful click. I could have shot or bashed open the door, but that would have not been prudent. My only guess was that the door was protected with a spell against damage, as to avoid any unwelcome visitors. Luckily for me, lock picking wasn’t included on the list. The darkness of the basement made me feel uneasy, like the mouth of a giant dragon about to eat his next meal and hideous monsters lurking on the corner of my eye, ready to maul me after me as soon as I stepped inside.

An abandoned laboratory appeared in front of me, lights flickering to life, as if it had still, after all these years, been anticipating someone arriving, and revealing its secrets to them. Thick layers of dust covered everything in sight as I walked down the stairs, leaving my footprints behind as their new visitor. The basement was home of some weird machinery I had never seen before. Life in the Wasteland teaches one to never touch strange shit, no matter how long your pole. I circled like a cautious hawk.

My attention was directed towards an old, rotten desk sitting on the opposite end of the room with some papers scattered all over the surface. From what I could grasp, these pages were some kind of diary about someone’s investigations related to humans. I didn’t really give a fuck about some old papers, but I knew some researchers who would pay a lot for these writings.

I had just finished scavenging them into my bag when I heard Mecha start to scream from upstairs. I quickly rushed as fast I could towards the bottom floor. I was halfway ascending the stairs when a set of unknown voices echoed through the library.

The first voice belonged to what I presumed was some kind of bastard who smoked fifty cigarettes a day. “Scream all you want, nobody is going to rescue you!” Her screams were quickly muffled, followed by a loud thud.

A new voice replied, this one seemingly younger than the first one.  “Watch out, you asshole! If you kill her now, we won’t be able to torture her. And you know how I love it when they scream…”

The last voice joined the conversation, and to my surprise, it belonged to a woman, probably in her thirties. “Don’t worry, you will have your fun with her after we’re done with the last one. Just make sure she’s comfortable.”

The radar told me exactly what I already knew: three raiders, probably carrying enough firearms to turn me into swiss cheese. I quietly opened the door. As much as I would have loved to have rushed in with V.A.T.S. and exterminated them in a hail of bullets, I had to be more careful so they wouldn’t turn Mecha into a hostage, and so she wouldn’t get hit in the battle to free her. My own survival was barely an afterthought.

The poor girl was in trouble and I had to help her. She had probably been taken by surprise. Still, the fact that it hadn’t been a silent takedown meant that these bandits weren’t particularly skilled, and that they thought she was alone.

I used every inch of my willpower to resist the urge of going guns akimbo and kill them all; no matter how much I would hate myself for this. I waited patiently for them to leave the library before I started following them. I thanked all the deities I knew for giving both of us a Littlepip with a GPS tracking system as I tracked them down to their campsite, an old building that resembled some kind of gingerbread house that barely managed to stand up. The walls were full of holes and the colors had long been washed out long ago.

The fat bastard was standing against a wall. He had his back to the door, presumably taking watch, but all he did was sit down on a chair and read some old magazines. He looked like he just savaged all the food from the Wasteland and still had room for more. His short, brown hair was so messed up and dirty that an undiscovered tribe probably lived in it. He wore a tattered leather jacket, grey jeans and a pair of boots tainted with dirt, blood, and God knows what. I couldn’t see the others, but this did not worry me.

A pitiful 5.56x45mm AR15-based pistol hung from a single point sling around his neck. I slowly approached him without making a sound and took out my machete. Before he could lift his eyes from the magazine, I brought down the blade on the back of his neck, severing the spine in one strike. He crumpled, but I failed to sever his head. I lowered him quietly to the ground, and then, just to ensure that he was dead, I struck again to chop off his head, leaving his fat body on the arid floor as a blood of pool formed down at my feet. I checked his pockets only to find a bunch of bullets and a pair of dirty brass knuckles.

With the first obstacle dead, I headed inside the building in search of the other two. My radar told me that the last two raiders were standing close to each other, but I didn’t have any clues about what the interior looked like. The door opened slowly with a weak creak, casting some light on the entrails of the buildings. I was welcomed by a bunch of skeletons of ponies and humans sitting on broken tables and seats, probably as some kind of cruel joke to resemble a normal situation when this building was still full of life and joy.

Countless cupcakes, muffins, cakes and similar were displayed behind glass walls, now covered in a thick layer of dust that didn’t allow me to peek inside except for the holes caused by breaks and fractures. The wooden floor complained under my feet with each step I took, never raising its voice above a whisper. The stairs leading to the upper floor, on the other hand, were as noisy as a gunfight in the middle of the night; luckily, they didn’t notice my presence. I suddenly remembered one of Mecha’s mystery books, about how the main character ascended through the stairs by outside as to avoid making any sound.

I put that technique in practice, slowly ascending step by step until I reached the upper floor. “I’ll have to thank Mecha for this” I thought to myself. I found myself in a hallway that seemed to stretch into eternity with rooms on both sides. I couldn’t help but imagine a group of ponies running around as they played happily before I quickly casted away those illusions. A door at the end of the hallway stood open, casting the shadow of a human silhouette. As I got closer with the utmost silence, I noticed that the raider standing in front of the door had his back turned to me as he overlooked his friend beating up the mute pony we rescued a while ago.

The guy standing on the door wore the same clothes as his fat friend. He was tall and thin, and his blond hair was tidy and clean. He probably spent a lot of time keeping it clean. There was a bottle of something by his side, and he was swaying slightly. The last one was a woman with flaming red hair reaching down to her waist. Unlike her friends, she wore a black tank top full of holes and a pair of black gloves as she beat her helpless victim, which I quickly recognized as the stallion we had rescued a while ago. The white unicorn was tied to a chair, looking like he was about to die. I could see his left eye hanging from the socket as the woman continued to beat him up like a punching bag. If he could speak, he would have been screaming. I didn’t get angry. I couldn’t lose my cool now.

Both of the raiders were focused on their sick amusement and looking at their hapless victim. I took the opportunity to ready my suppressed M1911 and practice switching between the man and the woman. I crept closer, knowing full well that the suppressor and subsonic ammo would at most make the pistol’s report too minor for any other potential bandits to fuss over, if they weren’t just out of sight. I weighed my options, choosing to cap the woman and then rush to grab the man from behind. I needed him alive to tell me where Mecha was.

I raised my M1911 and pointed it at the woman. The pistol swayed in my hands as I waited and lined up the perfect shot, putting more and more pressure on the trigger. It held, and I knew any more would fire the gun. If only she would stop moving! She beat the poor stallion mercilessly, hardly staying in any one spot for long. I just needed a few seconds… Or if she’d just turn her back for a few seconds, I could get the drunk guy. But then, she brought her face close to the stalions and held it there.

“He’s not breathing.”

“Bummer.” Bingo! I squeezed just a bit harder. The gun fired. The bullet went in through her eye and she fell to the ground. I fired twice more, hitting her in the chest and shoulder.

The drunk bandit tried to react, but was too slow; I tackled him, sending him face first onto the floor, into the growing puddle of hot blood. I sat on his upper back, keeping him pinned. I pressed my weapon to the back of his head. He froze, giving up the fight.

I growled into his ear, “Listen very closely, asshole. You have something of mine, and you’re going to give it back.”

“What the fuck have you done to my friend? I’m going to kill you for this!” I slammed my booted foot into his kidneys, letting him scream and suffer like he deserved.

I spoke to him without raising my voice. “It hurts, right? Tell me, how does it feels to know that your death is not coming as fast as you want to? That the only way to ease your suffering is hoping your kidnapper is merciful enough to kill you already?”

He spat, “Fuck you!”

“You should know better not to enrage your torturer,” I replied as I reached around his head and forced my thumb into his eye socket. “Now, where’s the pony you just kidnapped? I’m talking about the green unicorn with the blue jumpsuit and the gray mane.

If you did something to her…” I grazed his spine with my machete, letting it cut the skin.

“Why do you even care about that pony? Are you fucking her or what?”

I placed my blade beneath his throat, forcing him to hold up his head. "Wanna know why? She's the only friend I have left. She's like my little sister. We've been through so much stuff together that our bonds are stronger than those of blood brothers. I was there when she discovered her talent, when she finally earned her Cutie Mark. And when she followed me back into the Wasteland, I promised her that she would be safe with me." I slowly pressed down on his neck, bringing it against the bite of the cruel steel, my hand firmly holding it as it trembled excited to taste more fresh blood. "And thanks to you, I might not be able to keep that promise.”

I heard his terror. “She’s here! She’s here!”

“Gracias.” I forced his neck down, onto the blade, just as I heard motion to my right.

A familiar voice called me, “Adrian…?” I suddenly turned around, and I was met with Mecha, pleading, “What are you doing?” she asked me with fear in her words.

“Mecha, I…!” I looked at the knife I was holding in my hand, now dyed red with the blood of my victims. I threw it against the floor, its mere contact now burning my hand. “I can explain.”

“I know what happened, Adrian. How could you do this?” the tears now flowing from her eyes. “How could you do this?”

I tried to apologize. “I did this for you, Mecha! I wanted to save you from these monsters!”

“Monsters, you say? You didn’t show any compassion or remorse when you killed and tortured them… What makes you any different from the same monsters you just killed?”

So maybe the lesson hadn’t set properly, or maybe I was just a bad teacher? “The difference is that I did this to save you! They only kill and torture for fun, pleasure and plainly evil! If I hadn’t killed them, they would have continued to do the same to innocent people. Look what they did to the pony we rescued earlier!” I pointed at the corpse of the white unicorn, still tied to the chair. I could feel my strength fading away with every word. “I made a promise to you and your parents that no matter what, I would do everything to keep you safe.” I fell down to my knees. “And in the process, I’m the one who hurt you the most…” I discovered the ugly truth; that I was not so different from those I hated the most. That the only thing separated me from them was that I did not take joy in bloodshed.

I found myself unable to meet her eyes. A green hoof appeared into my field vision and held my chin, raising my head so I could look at her. Mecha greeted me with a warm smile “You know, all those things you said about protecting me were the greatest things nobody ever said to me before. I knew that you would kill those raiders, but I never expected to see how you tortured one of them. That took me by surprise.” I noticed her face starting to turn red as her eyes avoided any contact with mine. “You know, this experience made me think a lot about you and me…”

Before I could react, she suddenly kissed me in the lips. I was caught off guard, unable to process what the hell was going on until the spell binding our lips was broken. I was dumbfounded. Mood whiplash. “Mecha, you…”

“Adrian, I love you!” she exclaimed, her face turning redder. “I’ve been trying to tell you since you helped me earn my Cutie Mark, but I wasn’t brave enough to confess my feelings for you!” she exclaimed as her legs embraced my body, unable to move or talk. I should have seen this coming. Why she acted so weird when I got too close, her reason to follow me into the depths of hell... She did all of this because she loved me! I knew this wasn't the perfect moment for a love confession, but I'm sure that anyone else in the same situation would've donde the same as her. Experiences like this make you value your life even more.

And that's why I hated to be the one to break her heart like this. “Mecha, this isn’t going to work between us.” She slowly let me go, the distance between us growing wider with every step, as if a cliff stood between Mecha and me.

I could hear her dreams and hopes crashing against the floor like pieces of glass. No matter how hard she tried or how many years she would spend binding the fragments together, nothing would be the same again. “But… Why? Is because I’m a pony, right?” Relationships between ponies and humans weren’t unheard of, but they were rare because of fear that they would get killed. The Wasteland wasn’t the best place for an interspecies romance.

“That’s not what I mean, Mecha. It’s because of me and-”

BANG BANG BANG BANG!

Gunshots echoed through the room, and I instinctively grabbed Mecha and protected her with my body as I headed through the door. I hurled her behind the doorway and drew my 9x18mm pistol. Adrenaline pulsed through my system. I was primed to fight. I leaned out, immediately being greeted by a hail of bullets. On honed instincts, I saw a bit of motion by the doors and fired at them.

I aimed only my first shot, flinging out the rest as fast as I could. The magazine was almost empty, then I heard a groan followed by the sound of a body tumbling down the stairs.

I holstered my pistol and turned back to Mecha. “Are you alright?”

Mecha looked at me. Her eyes were dilated so wide. Her voice was trembling. “Your… Your stomach…”

The fading adrenaline made me aware of a burning pain in my stomach, and I pressed against it instinctively. Something wet dampened my hand. I looked down to see the bright red of fresh blood – I’d been shot! I had to act fast, before I lost consciousness. I stuck in my finger to find the bullet’s path and then ran my hands around my torso, seeking an exit wound, and finding one, a big, ugly rip in my lower right side. Alright, gunshot wound to the abdomen. I had medical supplies to patch myself up, not that I could do anything about the internal bleeding.

I lifted my shirt and used gauze to bandage both ends of my wound, doing my best to hide my pain from Mecha, who was on the verge of freaking out. I spelled out my plan, “Mecha, we need to get to Small Town and find Red. I don’t know if I can walk, but I’ll get as far as I can. There’s a flare gun in my bag. If I pass out, send up a red flare. Then, take a red smoke flare and set it off. Don’t drop it; that’s how good guys are going to find us. Don’t stop, no matter what. Got it?”

To my surprise, she remained calm, probably thanks to the adrenaline rush from the shooting. Whatever the reason, I needed her to keep a cool head. “Got it.”

We exited the building and began the walk back. I was amazed that I could still stand, let alone move. I was gambling that I could make it to a settlement before Mecha would be forced to pop smoke. The gauze was soaked through within the first few minutes. Mecha kept me up as I took off my shirt. I tied it around my torso to put pressure on the wound and slow the bleeding.

I secretly gave myself a small shot from a morphine syringe to reduce the growing pain. I was hurt badly and needed to make the most of my effective conscious time to survive. I couldn’t die today. Mecha needed me, and as I had just discovered, she needed more than ever in ways I didn’t even know she did. We hobbled along as quickly as we could. Small Town wasn’t too far away, and I knew that Mecha was strong enough to carry me. After all, she carried most of our stuff so that I could be free to do the fighting and scavenging.

My heart pounded and I urged myself onwards. The pain only got worse, and the blood continued to escape from my body. Even then, just a few minutes after leaving Ponyville, I wasn’t thinking properly. I felt my strength begin to slip. I was out of breath, barely soon limping. I leaned against Mecha for support. I stubbornly pressed on as far as I could go, until, at the crest of a hill, I had to stop. All my energy was gone. I stroked her lovely green fur. In a haze, I recalled that she had some stimulants I could use to try staying awake.

I moaned breathlessly to her what would probably be my last words, “Mecha, te quiero”. She looked me in the eye, face full of concern. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could do anything, my legs gave out. My head fell to the ground so fast I couldn't even feel my skull crashing against the dirt. As I lost control of my body, a familiar voice echoed through the darkness.

"Adrian? Adrian!"

New items acquired:

Diary from before the war

These old papers don’t seem to be of any use for you, but maybe you can get a good price from a researcher.

Books from before the war

Not very valuable, but you can always read them if you’re bored.