G.A.L.L.O.P.E.R.S: Dead Zone

"So, any new scrap today?" Steel Hooves asked, warming his hooves over the fire pit. Steel was dressed in a dark green overcoat, a Zebra manufactured Kevo Assault Rifle rifle, modified with a 2x scope, extra mags, and oak stock, was strapped to his back. Steel, a Pegasus, was a former Ranger, a task force formed to keep peace in the Metro by Captain Macintosh.

"Not much. Just a few ammo cases, some food, and shirt or two." Wind Shear, a middle aged half Griffon, half Zebra, replied, carefully cleaning his long sword of guts and flecks of blood, his beak in a scowl. "You Artyom?"

"No, I-Wait, did you hear that? Artyom said, his ears perked. Screams, definitely screams, but who's? This was the thought that raced through his mind. Suddenly, a loud growling sound was heard from above, the trio had barely enough time to look up as 3 dark masses descended upon them.

The first knocked Steel to the dusty ground, bashing his head into the rails. He was only able to fire a shot before the beast knocked the rifle from his hooves, tearing a large gnash in his chest. Its companion was wresting with Shear, several claw marks on his face and right arm. Wind's long sword was embedded in the thigh of the Watcher.

The Watchers were a mutated form of Timberwolves. They were larger, had dark brown-black fur in places, and had a taste for flesh,

Artyom slammed into the concrete as a large claw threw him. His Colt Magnum was knocked away as the beast towered over him, saliva dropping from its ferocious jaws, its eyes blood red. It raised its claw to strike. Artyom's blood ran cold.

"Artyom! Artyom! Wake up!" A voice cut through, caused him to awaken in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. He looked into the bearded face of Hawk Eye, one of his best friends, even before Zero Hour, the name given to the balefire meltdown.

Hawk Eye was an expert marksman, hence his name. He was a few months older than Artyom, which is why he had looked up to Hawke as sort of an older brother at times. Hawk was a rust red Unicorn with a sapphire mane with forest green highlights. Hawke Eye's treasured bolt action rifle, Griever, was slung across his back. It was heavily modified, a long barrel, Nigh Vision scope, industrial flashlight, bayonet, with a maple wood stock, excluding the other bells and whistles he had added, and the tally marks. His beige longcoat always smelled of peppers, for he loved spicy foods. "Another nightmare Artyom? What was it this time?"

"Steel, Wind, and I were standing around a fire pit, when all of a sudden, a bunch of cursed Walkers jumped up. Steel was torn in to. You woke me up just as I was about to be mauled." Artyom said, his voice quavering. He felt Hawk put his hoof on his shoulder, a calm smile on his face.

"Its alright man, just a friggin dream. Come on, Captain Armor wants to see us. Get your stuff, grab a glass of water, then meet me in the command center, right?" Hawk said, turning away, and walking out the wood and steel door.

Artyom groaned, the half Earth Pony, half Threstral (bat pony) slowly pulled himself out of his bed, leaning on his desk. His room wasn't small, but it wasn't exactly huge either. The walls were concrete with iron supports, posters or photos hung on the walls. His desk was a sturdy,sweet smelling, mahogny and rosewood contruct. His journal, lighter, and compact shortwave radio lay on the desk. Smiling slightly, he pocketed the items, turning off his regular radio. He then saw his maple guitar sitting on his worn recliner. His smile grew a bit as he strummed the cords. Flicking off the desk light, he stepped out of his room into the hallway. He looked over himself. He was dressed in well worn blue jeans, which had a few holes in them, a greyish-black faux leather overcoat, a dirty white shirt, duty black work boots on his stern hooves, and his forehooves had dark brown gloves on them. A slightly weathered backpack was strapped to his back.

"Well, time to see what Armor wants." Artyom said, smirking slightly as he trotted through the noisy halls. He passed by the rowdy mess hall where he quickly drank down a glass of slightly murky water. Sure, it might not be the cleanest water around, but in the Metro or the Zone, you have to make due with what you got. Munching on a rose, egg, with a small amount of beef, bagel, he continued on. Contrary to what most species believed, ponies and species like them, such as Zebras, eat meat once in awhile, either because of the taste or nutrients. They mostly ate a lot of meat if they were in a mainly carnivorous species country, like Grussia, or Mhina.

As he rounded the corner, he noticed a group of armed guards standing near the lifts. 2nd Lieutenant Bon Bon was nuzzling her wife, 1st Lieutenant Lyra. Hawk was tapping a hoof on the metal gate. "Ah, Artyom, there you are! For a second there, I thought you had gotten laugh. Hah hah hah!" A short burst of guffawing came from his mouth, as he carefully opened the lifts' iron gate, stepping inside. "Come along then."

Artyom stepped in just as Eye closed the gate, yanking the wire handle down to start their ascension. "Ah, ventilated air, its the best." He said sarcastically, his Grussian accent breaking through. His family had moved there when he was young, before moving back to Equestria. His mother was raised in Grussia, and had them move there to help his Aunt Sheath Stalker on her farm. He had gained fluency in Grussian and an accent, then they had moved back a few months after they had helped the farm flourish.

He remembered how his mom had bought him a vanilla and caramel ice cream cone from Pony Joe's, owned and named after Donut Joe's twin brother. He had just turned three. That was when the meltdown occurred, and the planet was plunged into magical fire and anarchy. He remembered looking for his mother, finding only her shadow burned into the wall, alongside both her and his deceased father's wedding rings, which he wore around his neck. His father had been a Solar Knight, a group dedicated to protecting Celestia, upper echelon to the Royal Guard. His mother, a witty and intelligent Threstral, had been a member of the Night Guard, and part time inventor. Their names, engraved on their rings, were Iron Cross, his dad, and Night Light, his mom.

"So, how are you, Butterscotch, and Troika doing?" Hawk asked. Butterscotch was Artyom's wife, married almost a year ago. She was a spunky Pegasus, with an amber mane and tail, orange eyes, and a butterscotch colored coat. She worked as a medic at the clinic near the market, well paid. Troika was his younger sister, 10 years old, with a ash grey mane with a leaf green coat and icy blue eyes. She worked as an engineer, working maintenance for the railway cars or for the water pipes.

While bits were still the major currency used, supplies or ammo also worked as money from time to time.

"Итак, что дерьмо работу вы думаете Броня хочет, чтобы мы делаем сегодня?" (So, what crap job do you think Armor wants us to do today?) Artyom asked in Grussian, groaning as he heard the whirring of the gears. Checking his watch, he noticed they reach the Command Center in seven minutes, give or take.

"Ха, может быть, очистка туалетов! Или борьба с вредителями!" (Hah, maybe scrubbing the toilets! Or pest control!) Hawk replied. This brought an uproar of laughter from the two. Soon, they heard the DING, which meant they had reached their floor.

Hawk smiled as he opened the gate, "Looks like this is our stop." Hawk's attempt at humor made Artyom roll his eyes.

"So, how's Copper Tone? I bet you can't wait to have him all for yourself." He teased his friend, who had been saying he would be driven mad if he see and bed Copper soon.

"Hah hah hah, very funny Mr. Wiseguy. Coppy's been on a scavenging mission/vacation in Ponyat (Pripyat), turns out a similair incident happened a few months before Zero Hour. The Cheernobyl plant had a critical meltdown, most of Grussia's as much of a hellhole as Equestria." Hawk said, a faint blush on his cheeks. True, he had been thinking of his handsome Zebra colt friend now and again but he wasn't THAT desperate. "You would go crazy too if you didn't get laid very night."

"Hmmph. Well then, lets go see what Armor wants this time." Artyom said, as the metallic doors slid open with a HISS.