Fallout Equestria - The Big Easy

“The Equestrian National Weather Service is issuing a severe thunderstorm warning for the Martingale area, including the cities of Steedport and Neigh Orleans... heavy rainfall brings a high chance of flooding in all coastal areas...”

• A pre-war weather report

~~~~

“Let's ged'dis on de go! Errypony grab an axe!”

Like bloatsprites swarming a garbage pile, a half dozen ponies fell upon the fallen sycamore tree, brandishing axes. They attacked the tree, chipping away at some of the larger branches to cut it into something more manageable.

I wasn't one of them. I'd arrived a little late. So I just stood there, soaking wet in the driving rain as the tree was hacked up. It was likely easier these days. Before the war this tree would have been a sizeable example of a beautiful Equestrian buttonwood, but radiation from megaspells had long since killed it off. The scorched, dead-looking wood splintered easily under the concentrated axe strikes.

“Stripes!” a voice barked, clear through the howling of the storm. It took me a long time to parse who it was, even though I should have known right away. It was the Overstallion of the plantation, a broad-shouldered brute of an earth pony with a chip on his shoulder, based on his constant expression of disgust. “Get movin' here!”

I trotted over as quick as I could with how muddy the ground was. My name wasn't Stripes, but good luck telling the Overstallion that. I'd tried many times over the ten years I'd lived on the grounds of Wise Apple plantation and he just refused to use my real name. My name wasn't even all that hard to pronounce, even if it was in Zwahili. Kaskazini Nyota. Kas for short. I'd even tried to teach the Overstallion the Equestrian translation, North Star, but the pig-headed bastard wasn't taking it. I had stripes, and so I was forever “Stripes” to him, like every other zebra or zony on the plantation. He just didn't like anypony with zebra blood, as he'd once admitted. Zonies and zebras tended to get the worst, most dangerous, or least liked jobs.

“Yeah, boss?” I called back over the wind. There was nothing to be gained from brooding about the Overstallion. Right now there was work to do.

“Get some rope an' get dat tree out!” The Overstallion pointed a muddy hoof in the direction of the fallen sycamore. The base of the tree was still there, with jagged and broken pieces of wood jutting out like spikes. The rest of the tree, still being worked over by the ponies, had crashed straight through a wooden cabin, bisecting it in a crash of splintered wood and broken glass. A body had already been removed from inside and there were likely more to come. “Y'all gunna haul it out!”

It seemed an impossible task, given the size of the tree and the fact that the Overstallion had told just me to do it. I couldn't exactly complain though, not if I wanted to keep my job. There was a shed behind the cabins where I went to retrieve some rope, only to find a number of other workers in there already gathering tools. One such worker was a unicorn stallion with a mangy red mane. He looked up at me, rope hanging in a loose coil around his neck.

“Where y'at, Kas?” he asked.

“Ova by here, Spade,” I replied. “Busy?”

The unicorn snorted in laughter. “Naw, gots all de time Ah need.”

I grinned and nodded over my shoulder. “Good. Let's go.”

Out into the storm we went once more. I hoped it would let up soon. The plantation, like the rest of Martingale territory, was directly at sea level. Too much rain and we'd have some flooding problems on our hooves... more than usual, anyway. If the flooding got too bad it would destroy the orchards, and then we'd be in for some real trouble.

The world lit up for a brief moment, throwing the whole scene into stark contrast. I could see the stately plantation home and the orchards, the trees surrounding the property, and the five remaining worker's cabins. Darkness returned, and moments later there was a crack of thunder from out over the ocean. The storm was finally moving away, but we still had rain to deal with.

Spade and I made our way into the remains of what had once been Cabin 6. It was slow going and precarious, given that the second floor looked about ready to go at any time. Spade tossed me an end of the rope, and we quickly worked to get it underneath the tree and around the trunk. Spade was better at knots thanks to his magic, so he was the one to tie it while I waved the axe-wielding ponies off. The tree had most of its troublesome limbs removed. We just had to lift it out.

“T'ink ya magic can do it?” I teased to Spade. I knew how I was going to get it out, it would just take a lot of work.

“Sho 'nuff. Spade Head, best TK dis side'a Can'erlot!” It was one hell of a boast, from such a mangy looking stallion.

I snorted in laughter and grabbed the long end of the rope between my teeth. I motioned for Spade to follow and headed back out. Behind the cabin was another tree, this one a willow with huge limbs sticking out. I tossed the rope over one of the limbs.

“Ready?” I asked Spade. The stallion nodded and grabbed the rope as well. “On t'ree. One, two, t’ree!”

The tree barely moved at first. Spade and I found that our hooves were just sinking deeper as we tried to move. Then it happened; subtly at first, but it happened. My hoof found purchase in the mud and I felt myself moving forward. Over the sound of the storm came the soft creak of wood. Somepony cheered and egged us on. Slowly but surely the fallen sycamore was lifted free of the cabin. I grunted with the effort of trying to haul the tree up. Sure, physics were on our side, but it was still an extremely heavy slab of wood, and just two ponies were hauling it in our teeth. I could feel my muscles screaming in pain as I took step after step in the mud, my whole body rebelling and trying to tell me to just drop the tree.

I couldn't just drop it. I had to get it clear. And so I kept going until the tree was finally standing near straight. It was then a new problem occurred to me...

What the fuck do we do now?

The tree was up in the air, but if Spade and I let go it would just crash down into the cabin. It was taking all my effort to keep it up, and I had a feeling Spade was straining just as hard as I was. If one or the other left the tree was going to fall again.

“Hold it!” somepony shouted. My back was to the action, which covered up the fact I rolled my eyes. No shit, hold it. Eventually the voice shouted again. “Okay, lower it slow!”

Backwards I went, slowly and gingerly, lowering the tree once more. I felt a change in the slack, and chanced a glance over my shoulder. The tree was being lowered sideways, perpendicular to the cabin, aided by an earth pony that was pushing it slowly into position. It hit the mud with a soft slap. The moment it did I let the rope go. My muscles all screamed at the same time, contracting spasmodically.

I don't remember falling, but I do remember the mud hitting my face. I lay there for a long time as my muscles relaxed from the strain of hauling the heavy sycamore out of the way, just letting the cool rain spatter across my crimson stripes. Spade was lying not far away on his back, panting from the effort.

“Best TK... dis side'a Can'erlot?” I asked, echoing his earlier boast. Spade burst out laughing.

~~

The rain let up early in the morning. Between the time we'd hauled the tree out, sometime around four in the morning, and when the rain let up around six, work had continued in the cabin. Two more bodies were found. I had only seen one of them being taken out, a pegasus mare who'd been impaled by a piece of the roof, but I'd also caught a glimpse of the other body wrapped in a sheet. It was far too small of a bundle. I tried not to think on it too much.

The dark clouds had parted in a few areas, showing off a dreary, pale grey morning. Diffused light filtered in that finally showed the destruction in all its devastating glory. The sycamore had a jagged scar down the back end where the lightning had struck. The wind had done the rest, pushing it straight through the two-storey wooden cabin. The falling trunk had effortlessly cleaved through the rotting shingles and the old wood, smashing through a stallion's room on the second floor and killing him instantly before continuing down to the bottom floor, obliterating the kitchen below. The impact had weakened the rest of the structure, and with the heavy winds of the thunderstorm the cabin hadn't been able to take it. The roof had collapsed in multiple areas, windows were smashed. The cabin was done for the time being.

The rest of the Wise Apple plantation's workers stood around the cabin. Faces held different expressions. Some were neutral, so used to the devastation of the Wasteland that an obliterated cabin was passé to them. Others were sympathetic, comforting the parents of the young one who'd been killed and those who'd lost what meagre possessions they'd had in the destruction. Still more, mostly those who'd once called the cabin home, had a frozen expression as they picked through the rubble. They moved their entire heads instead of their eyes, and didn't seem to blink, as the shock of it all still coursed through their system.

I knew nopony from the cabin, and lived in another one, which put me in an odd spot. I was sympathetic, but I felt as if my sympathies would be hollow due to how little I knew of those who lived there. Instead I hung at the fringes, waiting. Ponies and zebras alike were splitting off to return to their cabins and prepare for the day. I didn't know what the hell else to do, so I just took one last look at the devastated Cabin 6 and turned to go home.

I spotted a figure moving across the grass toward the cabins. There were a few hundred metres from the plantation home to the cabins, and it felt like an eternity for the figure to cross it. It did give me plenty of time to identify the stallion though. Despite being soaking wet, sore, tired, and miserable, I felt a little bit happier seeing the slim, pink (though he would always insist it's a light red) pegasus approaching. I felt awkward as could be standing there, just waiting for him to arrive, and I think he felt it too, as he picked up the pace a little, cantering up to me.

“Kas, you're okay!” he said brightly. He threw his hooves, muddy from the trek over, around my neck. He seemed to have realized at the last possible moment that his hooves were muddy and quickly pulled away from the hug but not before depositing some more mud on the back of my neck. He blushed brightly. “Sorry! Forgot about the mud.”

I snorted in laughter. The stallion was cute, what could I say? He must have missed the mud caking most of my hooves and part of my neck already. “S'alrigh', Core. Ah'm fine.”

“I heard a cabin had gotten hit, but I couldn't... couldn't get out last night, I was worried that it might have been yours, and-” Apple Core had a tendency to babble when he got nervous. I held up a hoof to quiet him before he could trip over his own tongue and work himself up too bad. Poor stallion had anxiety issues, and I could just imagine that last night wasn't the most pleasant of experiences for him.

“Ah'm safe.”

Apple Core snorted softly in derision. “Well I see that now. You could have sent word or something!”

“Ah was a bit busy. C'mon. Let's walk.”

We started walking past the cabins, leaving the group of workers behind. I didn't mind disappearing for a bit like this... it was going to be a slow work day anyway. We had a lot of work to do to get the cabin back in order but first we'd have to deal with the dead and help the injured, which would take most of the morning to do. That wasn't my job and not something I wanted to be involved with. Death was different for zebras than for ponies, and being a zony, a half-breed, I didn't feel like I'd be welcomed at the funeral of either, particularly a pony. After that was all done I could work to rebuild the cabin, but that would be much later in the day.

For now, I chose to be with Core. Apple Core and I went past the cabins toward the treeline and the river. Wise Apple plantation was alongside a distributary for the Muddy River that ran through Martingale territory and dumped out into the Lunar Ocean. The plantation maintained a boathouse alongside the distributary that made transporting the apples easier. With harvest season done, and with the recent storm, the boathouse would be empty. Sure enough, it was silent as we approached.

“You weren't hurt at all?” Apple Core asked.

I shook my head. “Jus' a few sore muscles. Not'in' a massage can't fix,” I assured the stallion. It hurt more than just “sore”, but I wasn’t going to let him know that.

He let out a soft breath and nodded. “Good. I was worried. What about... everypony else?”

“T'ree dead. One real young.” I shrugged a little bit. “Hard, but dis shit happens in de Wasteland,” I pointed out.

“Yeah. Just not usually here.” Apple Core pushed the door to the boathouse open and ushered me inside. I immediately went for a metal locker in the corner. There was a simple combination lock on it that I quickly had open.

“It's gunna be hard on 'em but Ah t'ink we all gunna get t'rough.” I said, reaching a hoof into the locker. There was a small metal lockbox at the back that I slipped out and unlocked with another quick combination. Resting comfortably on a pillow (to keep it safe) was a bottle of whiskey that had been ancient even before the Great War. I pulled it out and set the box aside just as Apple Core finished closing and locking the door to the boathouse.

“Always do.” The stallion trotted over to the edge of the dock near the water and sat down. I joined him, sitting between Core and the wall. He leaned against me almost immediately, draping a wing across my back while I twisted the cap off the whiskey. “We ponies are surprisingly resilient.”

“What about me?”

Apple Core snorted softly. “You're a zony. Part pony, that still counts.”

I chuckled softly and sipped straight from the bottle. The amber liquid burned a little on the way down but it was still an excellent drink. I didn't tend to drink heavy, though I did like whiskey. “Sho 'nuff.”

We were silent for a long while, just watching the little waves formed in the river from the wind. It was still extremely windy out, even if the storm had long since passed. I was okay with that. The weather was often hot and humid. A breeze was a gift on a morning like this.

“Suppose ya need to help with the cabin?” Core asked, taking a sip from the whiskey bottle and passing it back to me.

“Today, sho. Afta dat...” I let it hang for a moment. I don't know how much Core knew about his father's operation of the plantation. Everypony had a six month contract, and mine was about to end. I hadn't told him yet that I wasn't planning on staying very long. While I liked helping ponies, and I liked being helpful when working, there were things that just didn't sit right with me about working at Wise Apple plantation.

Apple Core was a fairly perceptive stallion, if nothing else. Not that I had made it particularly hard for him. He immediately turned his head to look up at me. “After that...?”

I sighed softly and sipped from the bottle of whiskey. I'd have to tell him sometime, might as well be now. “Ah'm leavin'.”

“You're what?”

I probably should have seen the reaction coming. Apple Core sat up so quickly he nearly knocked the bottle of whiskey out of my hooves, and stared at me through wide eyes. “But... you're leaving? Why? What could you possibly want to leave for?”

“Ah-”

“The Wasteland is shit, Kas! That's why they call it the Wasteland!”

“Loo-”

“There's raiders, and and and slavers, and mutants and radiation and-”

“Core!” The stallion's ears folded back and he looked down sheepishly. I sighed softly and kissed his snout. “Sorry. Ah didn' mean t'snap.”

“I know.” He looked up at me and gave my cheek a quick nuzzle.

“Ah gots to leave, Core,” I explained. I had wrestled with the idea for a long time. Wise Apple plantation was relatively safe, by Wasteland standards. We had guards, and we were far enough removed from Neigh Orleans that the slavers and raiders tended to leave us alone. Mutants tended to keep away, despite the occasional radigator or skeeter attack here and there. Despite that, there was just... something. I couldn't even properly explain it, to myself or to Core. “Gotta explore.”

“But why? You're safe here, and we pay you.”

I snorted in derision. “Pay? Ain't much, for what we do. Ah jus' haul a tree outta a cabin. Overstallion ain't even gunna give me t'anks. Ah won’ even get a bonus.” I didn't mean it to come off as being selfish, but for that kind of work I expected… a little something. “Y'all ain't seen de work we do. Apple buckin', plantin', fixin'. Fo' a dozen caps a week, an' dat's if d'Overstallion like us dat week.” We weren't technically slaves, because we were paid, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

Apple Core was quiet for a moment, then looked at me oddly. “You're leaving because you're not getting paid enough? I could see if my Dad would give you a raise... maybe take you on as a full-time worker, instead of contract work, or maybe-”

I shook my head and sipped from the bottle of whiskey. “Naw, it's... it's a whole lotta everyt'in'. Jus' pilin’ up on itself. Overstallion doesn' like zebras an' he 'specially don' like us zonies.” I didn't know why, but he did. My best guess was that he disliked the idea of “mixed races” or something of the sort. All I know is he treated myself and some of the other zonies like shit. “Ah don' even mind de work, it jus' dat we don' get paid right for it. An'...” I trailed off, searching for the right way to continue.

“And?” Apple Core asked, quite insistently.

I'd reached the point where I had to mention the Something. That undefined Something that had been bugging me the last few weeks. I was quiet as I tried to find a way to put it into words. How do I explain something that I couldn't even understand myself? “It's... y'all know dem books ya like? De adventure kind?”

“Yeah?”

“Know how dem heroes neva seem to jus' wanna stay in one spot? Dey always movin', lookin' fo' more adventures?”

“Yeah. Usually they get dragged out on one though.”

“But dey neva question,” I pointed out. “De opportunity come up an' dey always take it. Fo' me...” I struggled for a moment to explain it. “Somet'in' called. Ah dunno what. Ah jus'... feel like Ah gotta get out an' see Equestria.” Core started to speak and I held up a hoof. “Ah know it got blown up. Ah can't stay here no mo'. Ah been here ten years, Core. Ten. 'Fore dat Ah don' even know where Ah'm from.” I'd come to the plantation when I was young, and couldn't remember a whole lot. I had vague memories of a gorgeous stained glass window and a zony in a black outfit, but aside from that my life had been entirely on the plantation since I'd been a young colt. “Ah feel like seein' de world.”

Apple Core took a long time to respond. He took the bottle of whiskey from me and took a long sip. I looked at the river outside, unable to look at Apple Core for the time being. The banks were higher than usual, flooded from last night's heavy rainfall. The wind blew a few reeds around and caused the murky, tepid water to lap against the wooden dock of the boathouse.

“I think I understand,” he said at long last in a quiet voice.

“Glad you do, 'cause Ah don',” I joked. Core laughed softly and gave me a hug with his wing.

“Just be safe out there.”

“Ah'm a grown stallion. Ah can take care a myself.”

Apple Core nodded. “I know.” Another small stretch of silence, during which time Core stretched out a little bit himself, resting his head on my belly. “What about us?”

It was a good question. I looked down at the stallion for a moment. I did like him, I just don't know if it was in the same way that he liked me. He was nice to be around, and sure was cute, but I just couldn't bring myself to stay for him. Apple Core just simply wasn't the kind of stallion I'd want to spend the rest of my life with. “...Ah dunno.” It was as honest an answer I could give. I didn't know. I'd be leaving for who knows how long, and he sure as shit wasn't the kind of stallion that could survive the Wasteland. He'd been brought up in relative comfort here on the plantation.

“Will you come back?” he asked quietly.

“Maybe. Ah dunno when, dough.” I sipped the bottle of whiskey, then set it down. I didn't quite feel like getting hammered at the moment. “Migh’ be a long time. Ah'd not wait.”

Apple Core said nothing to that. He looked back at me a little, then out over the water. I sighed softly. “Ah ain't happy 'bout it neider, but dere's plenty'a stallions out dere, jus' like us.” While it did seem more common, in my experience, for mares to be the one in same-sex relationships, I’d see a number of stallions come and go on the plantation that were like Core and I. I just never found myself interested in any.

“I know.” The pegasus reached for the bottle of whiskey and took a long sip from it. “Still hurts a bit. You could have told me earlier.”

“Ah shoulda.”

Core snorted softly, but said nothing. I nudged him gently after letting him brood for a few minutes. I knew better than to let him think too long about it. His anxiety troubles would kick in and I'd have an even worse mess on my hooves. “Y'know, dey ain't gunna come lookin' fo' me fo' a little while,” I pointed out. The Overstallion had a lot to deal with, and while I knew I was going to get in shit for disappearing like this, there wasn't much he could do. He could fire me, but I was already on the way out anyway. Besides, I wanted to piss him off after he tried to get me to haul that tree out on my own.

To his credit, Core tried to seem disinterested. He was trying to guilt-trip me into staying by being silent. He tried. But I noticed that his wings fluttered a little, the way they did when something he liked caught his attention. He did try though. Tried his very best, and it was cute.

I leaned down a bit. I aimed right for his left ear. I could see him try to hold a straight face, then it broke out into a smirk.

“Don't do it.”

“Do what?” I asked innocently.

“You now Goddesses-damn well what. Don't do it, Kas.” I kept leaning forward, slowly. “Don't do it! I'm warning you!” he said, the smirk turning into an all-out smile.

“Whattya gunna do? Tie me up?”

“Don't tempt me. I swear I will.” I closed the gap and nipped playfully at his ear. The reaction was almost immediate. He let out a little squeak and batted playfully at my snout. “You fucker!”

“C'mon, hotshot! Ah heard dem t'reats!” I challenged, leaning back a bit. Apple Core pushed the bottle of whiskey far enough out of the way, then twisted around and tackled me to the floor of the boathouse. Our lips locked, and I was suddenly thankful for the fact that the boathouse was far removed from the rest of the plantation.

I also decided I'd miss Apple Core, even if I didn't love him.