Fallout Equestria - The Big Easy

Neigh Orleans? It's alright. Better than Steedport anyway. The folks are normal here, and the crime rate is lower, too.

- Pre-war interview with a Martingale citizen

~~~~

“Oh come on. We ain't gotta do dis.”

I hadn't been in the city more than half an hour when it all went down. I had just passed the street sign into Neigh Orleans and was getting a look at the city for the first time when a trio of ponies had stepped out from behind an overturned carriage. I had gotten the feeling they weren't going to be very friendly just by the way they were dressed. Not many friendly ponies wore light barding covered in spikes. My suspicions had proven to be right when the stallion leader, a unicorn, had drawn a pistol which was currently floating with the barrel pointed to my chest.

His two companions looked much more intimidating. The stallion on his left looked to be made entirely of spikes (and one large shoulderpad), his hooves covered in metal horseshoes. The mare to the leader's right had a knife clutched in her mouth, a wild look in her eyes, and a bandolier full of more knives strapped to her chest. The implication was clear.

I was being robbed.

“Shut de fuck up. Yer caps, now,” the leader spat out.

My odds weren't very good. Three to one, one of them had a gun, and I had nothing. Fighting was not going to work. I had to find another way out. Problem was there wasn't anywhere to go. There were houses to my left, but they were too far away. To my right was a tall building that was much closer, but there was no way for me to get there with them looking at me. I had to get creative somehow.

Now granted I could have just given them my caps. It would have made it a lot easier. I wasn't exactly wealthy and I could easily make them back once I found work. But it was the principal of the thing. I wasn't just going to give up my money! I'd actually worked, and worked hard, to earn it, and they just expected me to toss it over?

Fuck that.

I had to stop stalling though. I'd been at it too long, and I could see the stallion's companions were getting antsy. The mare to his left kept looking between me and the gun-toting stallion, her mouth pulled back in a vicious grin as she clenched the handle of the knife. I noted some rather dark stains on the blade. The spiked stallion, bigger than either of his companions, was casually shifting his weight from left hooves to right. Each movement brought my eyes to the metal horseshoes he wore. With his size those were going to hurt if they hit me.

I had to give them some credit. They were being relatively polite. Three on one, they could have easily taken my caps. Instead they asked. How courteous.

My silence had ticked the leader off. He'd had enough. With a snort of derision he turned to the mare. “Ya know what, fuck dis. Ra-”

“Hold on!” I held up a hoof. “Alright. Fine. Just gimme a moment.”

Time's up. I had to think quickly.

I stuck my head into the saddlebag and took a look around. There had to be something I could give them to distract them. The plan that came to mind wasn't the greatest, but I didn't exactly have time to come up with anything else.

I straightened up. I gripped my canteen's strap between my teeth. “Here,” I told them. “Ah keep 'em here. Keeps 'em safe.”

With a quick flick of my head I sent the canteen flying. The reaction was exactly what I'd been expecting. All their eyes turned to the canteen to watch it arc through the air and none of the bandits looked at me. I quickly turned to the nearby building and ran. There was not a whole lot of time before they figured out my canteen was filled with nothing but water. I had to get away before they realized that.

Alright, so it wasn't the smartest of plans. But if need be I could buy more water, or find more, and I was more than willing to sacrifice a simple canteen for my life.

I made for the building to my right, the closest one. It used to be an old hotel, the Carriage House Inn, according to the sign out front. Now it was a sad looking old building. I had just started climbing through a broken front window when I heard the shout from behind me.

Fuck.

I clambered through the window just as the stallion fired. The crack of the gun wasn't as terrifying as the snapping sound that came shortly after, when the bullet zipped past my ear. It surprised me so much I slipped and fell through the window instead of gracefully climbing through. I was on my hooves in a flash, adrenaline egging me on.

The lobby was too exposed, too empty to be an effective hiding place. I ran for a staircase at the back of the room. It was a panic decision. I didn't have the time to think about escape routes or outsmarting the bandits. I just had to get away from the one with the gun.

I took the stairs two at a time, all the while setting what must have been a land speed record. A hallway stretched out on either side of me. I chose left, then the first open door I found. It led into a bar of some kind. Like the lobby, it was nearly empty and far too exposed. A couple broken tables strewn about, some pool tables to my right, and a bar to my left. I turned to leave and look for a better hiding spot.

“Spread out! Razor, watch dat door, make sure dat fucker don' leave. Tin, wit me.” The stairs in the lobby creaked.

Shit. I couldn't step back out into the hallway. I'd be spotted instantly. There was only one option left: the bar. Quickly as I could, and quietly as I could, I ducked behind it.

I huddled behind the bar, adrenaline surging through me. It was causing me to shake a little bit. Or maybe that was the fear. I hadn't quite figured it out. I don't know how long it would take for the bandits to give up, but I planned to stay until they did.

I heard a creak. Then a hoofstep. Then another. Somepony was in the room.

I had to see what was out there. It's surprisingly terrifying to hear hoofsteps from somepony you can't see. I looked around until I saw a shaft of light to my right. I shifted toward it and found a small hole in the bar where wood had rotted a little. The field of view through it was limited but at least it helped me see what was going on.

The stallion with the gun was in the room. The pistol was still floating in front of him. He checked the area behind one of the pool tables, then turned to look at the bar. Our eyes met. For the second time in my life, I was looking into the eyes of somepony that wanted to kill me.

My heart stopped. He tilted his head and started for the bar. I didn't think he spotted me. I think he was just smarter than I gave him credit for.

There was only about three metres of distance between him and the bar. Three metres for me to find something to save my life with. It was hard to think when death was coming at you. I looked around in a panic. Every story I'd read talked about a weapon behind the bar. There had to be one!

And there it was. I pulled it from the shelf under the bar. It was little more than two metal barrels and a trigger attached to a splitting piece of wood. I had never fired a gun in my life. I knew the basics though: point the open end of the barrel at the bad guy, pull the trigger. Simple, right?

I clamped my teeth around the bit and checked the hole in the bar. The raider was close. When he had just about reached the bar I jumped up and pulled the trigger with my tongue.

We both went flying.

I was stunned for a moment. When reality hit I was staring down the smoking twin barrels of the gun with my ears ringing. There were fallen bottles of alcohol everywhere. My neck was sore and I realized I'd fallen sideways. That fucking gun had a kick to it. I had never expected anything like it. I shook my head to try and get rid of the ringing and picked the gun back up. Just in time, too. The mare had heard the blast and had come running in. My fight or flight mechanism had kicked in. I didn't think. I just turned my head on the charging mare and pulled the trigger.

This time I was ready. I set my hindlegs to try and absorb the recoil. The force of the recoil jerked my neck a bit and sent a shockwave rattling through my body. I watched as the mare's chest and lower neck exploded in a splash of blood and flesh. The force of the blast knocked her off her hooves and she hit the ground next to the stallion.

The last stallion made his appearance. He hesitated in the doorway, looking first at his fallen companions, then at me. I pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger.

Click.

In the silence of the hotel that click was almost as loud as a gunshot. I heard it clearly over my ringing ears. The stallion heard it too. He smirked and started to advance on me, slowly, deliberately.

I tried again. Click. A third time. Click. By then the stallion was practically on me.

Fuck.

Well, at least he wasn't trying to kill me straight out. I think he wanted revenge for the murder of his comrades. The bandit picked me up and threw me across the room. The impact knocked the wind clear out of my lungs. Before I could get back up he was on me again. It felt like I'd been hit by a sledgehammer. He threw a second, then third punch, then tossed me again. My vision swam and I saw stars. Every inch of me hurt.

I smashed into the pool table with enough force to buckle the age-worn leg I hit. I couldn't move. My body felt numb and heavy. The stallion was approaching again with that fucking slow walk. Just end it! I was already terrified enough!

The pool table creaked and buckled further. A number of pool balls rattled to the floor near me. I gathered the strength to grab one of the pool balls in a curled fetlock. With my head thumping and my vision about to go, I threw the pool ball in one last, desperate attempt to save me.

I must have been the luckiest stallion in the world. There was no other explanation. The stallion had turned his head when he raised his right hoof to go for the killing blow. The pool ball struck him in his exposed temple. He lost his balance with a roar of pain and cracked his head off the other pool table. The stallion slumped to the ground, out cold.

I didn't have time to sit and be surprised. He wasn't quite dead yet. Adrenaline and an instinct of self-preservation kicked me into high gear. I would never have done what I did otherwise. The leader of the group was nearby with his gun on the ground. Somehow it ended up in my mouth, pointed at the unconscious raider.

I fired and just kept firing until the slide locked back and it wouldn't fire any more.

~~

Coming down from an adrenaline high is not fun. Particularly when reality comes crashing back in and you see what happened. When reality did return I was sitting between two of the large windows in the bar. The Celestia rays that came through the dirty glass bathed the whole room and its grisly scene in warm light. I didn't feel warm though. I was staring at the dead mare, her eyes open and glazed over. There was no peace there. No understanding.

Just anger. Confusion. Pain. Shock. Hatred.

I turned my head and puked.

It wasn't very badass, but I wasn't a badass. I was a plantation worker. I knew I would have had to go up against ponies like this eventually. Dangerous ponies who were out to kill me and steal my stuff. I just never expected it would be like this. I'd never expected to feel this fucking ill afterwards. The heroes were always supposed to be triumphant after fights.

Right now I certainly didn't feel very heroic. I felt dirty. Sure, they were criminals. Sure, they'd tried to rob me and kill me. But in a flash, a simple trigger pull, I'd completely ended three lives. The realization crashed in that they'd experienced as much as I had. They all had parents, friends, lovers. Ambitions. Goals. Hopes and dreams.

Gone. Just like that. And I'd been the one to do it. Accompanying it came a sickening sense of both power and disgust. My stomach heaved but I managed to keep it all down this time.

I brushed my foreleg across my lips and got to my hooves. Sitting here wasn't going to change anything. What was done was done and there was no going back now. All I had to do was to just keep moving. I could deal with this some other time, when I wasn't surrounded by bodies and puke.

I went over to where the last bandit had been killed. If this was the kind of city I would be exploring, I would need the pistol. I forced myself to look away from the bodies as I tossed the gun into my saddlebags.

The lobby stairs creaked as I made my way down. Without equines shooting at me it was easier to take a look around. I decided that, once upon a time, the hotel had been beautiful. There were still signs of it. The dusty floor had a gorgeous pattern on its faded tiles. The reservation desk had beautifully carved wood along the edge. On either side of the room were murals, long faded and depicting scenes of rolling hills and blue skies. Yet despite the signs of beauty it just felt hollow to me.

Neigh Orleans was supposed to have been so much more. It was all supposed to be beautiful. It was supposed to have been a city full of life. It was the Big Easy, for fuck's sake! The city of art and food and jazz music. I knew we lived in the Wasteland but for some reason I expected more.

Maybe I was just naive. Maybe it was unrealistic to expect more than getting robbed within the first twenty minutes in the city. But fuck, would it be too much to ask for a little jazz music? Or a few friendly ponies? Maybe a little bit of the beauty I'd wanted to see.

I waited for an answer. The stuffy silence of the Carriage House Inn was my only reply. “Fuck you, too,” I grunted at the reservation desk.

Moping about it wasn't going to change anything. Whether I liked it or not, Neigh Orleans wasn't the city I had hoped it would be. I was here now, though, which meant I had to make it into the city I wanted it to be. Well, in my own mind anyway. I had to find some silver lining, some pleasant side to all of it.

I thought back to the fight with the raiders and my stomach lurched again. The silver lining would have to come later.

In a last-ditch effort to get my mind off of things I decided to take a look around the hotel. It would keep me distracted as long as I didn't go to the second floor and hopefully would eventually get my mind completely off the dead upstairs. I might even find something that would make the trip worthwhile.

My first stop ended up being the hotel's dining room. A half-dozen ceiling-high windows lined the wall opposite me. Though stained with grime they still showed what may have been a nice courtyard once upon a time. Now it looked like the rest of the greenery: dead and shrivelled. The rest of the room was frozen in time. Tables were still set with dirty dishes and empty glasses. A threadbare suit jacket hung from a chair back. Set against one wall was a short little stage with a piano resting on it.

I trotted up onto the stage. I brushed my hoof across the dusty, off-white keys of the piano. Without anypony to take care of it for nearly two hundred years, the notes were dissonant and sent a shiver running up my spine. I didn't even know how to play anyway. I set my sights on a kitchen door across the room from me and headed that way. I had no qualms about raiding the place. I knew it was empty and abandoned. Besides, I had a feeling my canteen outside was emptied by the raiders. I would need some food and water if I wanted to keep going.

The kitchen made me retch as soon as I entered. Two hundred years of decay in the hot, humid environment had filled it with a stench that I could barely even put into words. It smelled like death, pure and simple. Like rot and decay. It conjured up images of the dead ponies upstairs. My stomach lurched again and I nearly lost my stomach again. Fuck it.

I didn't need to look for food that badly.

I rushed out of the kitchen and back into the lobby. Time to move on. Exploring the hotel hadn't stopped my mind from wandering back to the fight. To the look in the mare's eyes. That empty, hollow look, judging my actions.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Fuck that look. I didn't want to kill another pony if that's the kind of thing I had to deal with.

As I stepped back out into the humid Martingale heat, I had a feeling these three bandits wouldn't be the last equines I would have to kill. To live in such a dangerous post-apocalyptic world I would have to get used to it. I pushed the thoughts aside, thoroughly annoyed that every time I thought I was done thinking about the killing it came back. In an effort to distract myself once more I began the search for my canteen.

The clouds parted overhead, illuminating a small patch of road. I caught a glint of metal and found my canteen in a pool of rapidly drying water. I grunted and tossed it back into my pack. Thirst was starting to nag at me but I felt I had to get out of the area quickly. It was entirely possible these bandits had friends who were going to look for them. When these friends found them dead I wanted to be nowhere near. If the dead bandits were anything to go by any of their friends would show me no mercy for the murders.

I adjusted my saddlebags and struck out further into town. The clip-clop of my hooves echoed oddly off the empty houses lining the road. I really hoped I could find civilization somewhere soon. I was hungry and tired from walking for the last three or four hours and I needed ponies to talk to. The silence was making the guilt from killing those raiders worse. There was nothing out here to keep my mind off of the incident, no distractions whatsoever. My mind kept flashing images of the dead mare's flayed open chest and the horseshoed bandit's blood splattering over the floor with each panicked gunshot.

Once upon a time I thought Neigh Orleans would be a perfect place to start exploring Equestria. Now I felt otherwise. I felt like it was going to drive me crazy at some point. The silence, the sheer loneliness, the violence of the bandits, the guilt of killing. My mind turned to Apple Core and the plantation for a moment. I could go back. It would wound my pride but I could go back. I wasn't that far away just yet. I just...

The clouds above me parted just as realization hit. I just hadn't found the good in Neigh Orleans. The silver lining was still there. Neigh Orleans and the Wasteland wasn't all bad. There were some good parts to it. Core and his family traded with some normal, not-raider ponies and zebras out in Neigh Orleans. I just had to find them.

And I knew exactly where to find it. It was a name I'd heard Core and the Overstallion mention a few times.

The Temple.

I didn't know what it was or where it was, just that it was apparently safe enough for Wise Apple plantation to trade with. It would at least be a place to start. I just had to find a way to get there. It only took a few more minutes of walking before I figured out how.

So I hadn't found the silver lining just yet. But the renewed sense of purpose gave me some more energy. I felt stronger. I felt driven. I even found it easier to ignore the recurring image of the dead mare's eyes now that my brain had something else to focus on. It wasn't much but it was enough to keep the dark thoughts away from my mind.

That was good enough for me.