Here I sit, glancing out the window of this low grade, Manehattan motel. I reach over to the large, square bottom bottle of whiskey resting on the small, circular table to my right. I wrap my lips around the neck of the thick glass bottle and tilt my head back and swallow the waves of warm, brown liquid. I choke down the, almost stale, alcohol and pull the bottle from my mouth with my hooves. I lick my lips and savour the taste before shuffling further back into my chair, embedding myself in its crusty, red cushions.
The ministry just received a letter, it’s happening, not now, but soon. The zebra nation is beginning an attack, we lost an agent just to be told our death dates. There wasn’t enough time to retaliate once Cloudsdale fell, so we all just ran with our tails between our legs and started pushing out emergency broadcasts. As soon as the sirens started sounding I ran to my apartment, only three blocks away from the ministries offices, but it’d never seemed so far. I grabbed the suitcase that’d been packed for months already. I ran, on my way out, stopping by a liquor cabinet and grabbing an old bottle of whiskey, a gift from my grand father. I left, hoping to meet my wife and children at a Stable-Tec facility just outside of Maripony. The roads outside back up for miles with empty carts, ponies opting to die on their hooves then sitting down, and I join them. I pass a radio in the window, still audible through the printed glass reading ‘radios and shotguns’
“This just in: Maripony hit mere minutes ago, anyone en route to the Stable-Tec facilities located near there are advised to stay away as the radiation levels there have exceeded fatal.”
I stop frozen, a million possibilities racing through my mind. I pull the hoof mounted terminal from my bag and put it on, then I see it.
“1 message received
Sender: Colgate
Message: Honey, we just got to the stable, where are you? The kids are scared and I can’t calm them down. Please get here soon, they said they’re gonna seal up the stable soon, and I know you said they’d wait for the ministries, but I heard them say that another attack was imminent and that-BZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTT”
I prayed that they survived, that the static was just the mega spells scrambling the air waves. I now know that I’ll never have a chance to discover if my prayers were answered. I walked for a time, I don’t know how long since, at some point, my mind had wandered far beyond reasonable thought. In my mind, my family had not only survived the destruction of Maripony, but were being pampered beyond the likes of any of the royalty in Canterlot, but at the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the doors didn’t close in time, that all those stallions, mares and foals were vaporised by the intense heat of a zebra mega spell. Maybe the spells weren’t so hot as to offer my wife and son a quick death, maybe they burned for a few hours, maybe, they’re screams of anguish and terror were gargled by their own, glowing bile, maybe, even through the gargled screams, a single word could be heard “Daddy”, maybe they’re still burning, still screaming for their protector, me, the stallion, one of the few who urged the ministries to continue this war, the stallion who sent the wonderbolts into enemy territory, and then shrugged it off when half of them came home in body bags and it sparked an international incident. In the past, I would’ve ordered the total annihilation of the zebra race at the drop of a hat, but being on the receiving end of such an apocalyptic threat has been eye opening.
I came to a stop outside an abandoned motel. I lightly trotted up the stairs to find saddlebags and various items of assorted clothing discarded and strewn about the extended hallway of the motel. I Yelled to see if anypony had stayed behind, but I found myself alone.
The further I got down the hallway, the more doors I found unlocked, and some even wide open. I found a door, slightly open, only a sliver of light could have gotten into the room before I knocked it, sending it wide open. I peered into the room and was immediately met with the smell of rotting meat. I stared at the dark walls and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark. I saw two, large blotches of a red gooey liquid, my gaze ventured down to find two ponies, an earth pony revolver between them, and their brains sprayed on the walls. I creeped in, gagging on the rotten smell and holding back tears.
I grabbed the gun and quickly ran out of the room, bucking the door behind me, slamming it should. For what was about to happen, I thought the dead should rest. I leaned over the railing, retching and gagging before a clear, stinking liquid spewed from my mouth, leaving the hair around my muzzle wet and sticky. I continued further down the hallway, pushing out the thoughts of the two corpses I had left together. I wondered what could have drove the two to do it, to commit suicide at all, let alone together, although, I suppose death is easier to face with somepony you love, somepony you care for, somepony to hold close as you stop being, somepony, anypony. Nopony wants to die alone, no matter how introverted or misanthropic somepony was in life, nopony wants to be alone in death.
I came to the last room in the hallway. I pushed open the wooden, green door with the numbers ‘101’ painted on it. The room is empty this time, I take a second to thank luna for that. I drag my bag behind me, setting it in front of the large, red cushioned chair facing out of the window. I take my place in the chair and pull the whiskey from my bag, setting it atop the chipped, splintered, circular wooden table to my right. I find the revolver and rest it on my lap as I sip the whiskey straight from the bottle. I set my hoof mounted terminal beside the whiskey on the table and listen, it’s an emergency broadcast, it tells me to evacuate to my nearest Stable-Tec facility, that I will be escorted to a secure shelter beneath the facility. They can’t fool me, it’s a mercy killing, just like this is. I'll pay for my sins in flesh and blood, but deep down, I know it won't enough. As the bright, green mushroom cloud erupts outside my window, I down the rest of the whiskey, seconds before putting the revolver to my head, cocking it and pulling the trigger as the green blaze descends upon me and I feel my flesh burn and sear. I feel a sharp pain in my temple, and then it’s all over.
The Two Hundred Year Late Epilogue.
KA-CHUNK. KA-CHUNK!
I could hear the buckshot spraying onto the super mutants behind. I prayed that the shotgun blasts would slow the beasts down, as it was becoming harder to concentrate on running and magically aiming the levitated shotgun behind me. I turned, sharply, around a corner. There’s a large pile of rubble, and I don’t know if I can make it over, but I try. Sliding my sawed off shotgun into a slot on my flank, I rear back, preparing to scale the small mountain of rubble in front of me. I race up the rubble, but lose my hoofing at the top, and crash down the rubble on my face. I land on my side, cuts, grazes and bruises adorn my body.
They warned me that scavenging Manehattan was a bad idea, but did I listen? No, I had to play tough mare and run in blind with a sawed off shotgun and twenty shells. I limp into the burned out interior of an old storefront, hiding behind the counter. I’m not the first to have this Idea, as evident by the skeleton curled up in the corner. I pull my saddlebag in front of me and began to rummage through it. One healing potion, that’s it. I wrap my lips around the bottle and pull my head back, the pink, fizzing liquid pouring down my throat. I peek over the counter to watch out for the mutants. I don’t think they followed me. They’re too big, they wouldn’t be able to get over the rubble pile, and they’re too dumb to try and go around, or at least, I hope they are. I don’t take the chance and immediately get back out on the broken Manehattan streets.
As I walk by the burned out buildings I see something in the distance, the road leads out of the city. I speed up my walk to a run, before tripping and slamming my chin on the burned and scarred concrete. My back left leg, maybe broken, but definitely hurting. I barely push myself up on my four hooves and limp forward, looking everywhere for a spot to rest. As my head seems to become lighter, I barely make it out of the city, a lowly motel to the side of the road beckons me with its bent and blackened sign out front.
I ascend the stairs, steadying myself with the bloodstained, beige walls of the pre-war structure. I make my way to the final door on the end of the balcony, unlocked, as I’d hoped. There’s a skeleton staring out the window, but my eyes lock onto the perfectly made, seemingly, untouched bed. I rest on the mattress, immediately falling into a deep sleep.
I’m up early the next morning. My leg still hurts, but I can ignore it. I look over to the skeleton staring out the window, and the bag by its side. I levitate the bag to to my side and begin to rummage through it. I find what I was hoping for, several rolls of healing bandages and three healing potions. I quickly tend to my leg before taking a more thorough look into the bag, and the bag turns out to be an interesting piece of salvage. A glowing, glass sphere, a memory orb. I touch my horn to the device and the visions I am met with only intrigue me more. Some kind of radio broadcast, a pre-war facility with a plethora of weapons, armour and experimental tech, enough to please the Steel Rangers who keep seeming to pop up in my life. Upon further investigation of the bag, I find plans, a large number of notes and maps, puzzle pieces painting a pretty picture. A way into the facility. I load everything into my saddle bags and head on my way. I’ll need weapons and supplies if I’m gonna break into this facility. I think I’ll raid one of the raider dens in Ponyville.
Author's Note
I wasn't originally planning on writing this, but when inspiration strikes, you can't say no.
