Hunted

Three days had past since she first left the forest, each day she lay atop a hill that overlooked the town as she carefully watched the little activity she could see. It was mostly quiet for the first day, sometimes a pony would wander down the street but vanish soon after.

It was on the second that she learned just had far gone the world was. A pony, short, possibly a young teen. Was running for its life, another chased after it, gaining fast. She watched as the latter caught the first and a struggle broke out.

The chaser managed to get its head down on the runaways shoulder when the faint sounds of a scream traveled up the countryside. The runaway shoved the other aside, grabbed what appeared to be a rock and struck the chaser repeatedly against the skull. Soon the chaser stopped moving and the runaway took off towards an open door clutching her shoulder.

Soon after a large group appeared on the streets and wandered for the entirety of the day. Eventually they gradually vanished one after the other, she noticed a few stayed, standing upright and swaying, but others entered buildings.

On the third day the streets were clear once again. As the sun fell behind the mountains and the moon rose up, so did the human. Walking back behind the tree line of the forest that would have been her grave, she climbed a tree and did as she had done since her second night after she entered the new world, she tied herself to the trunk and tried to drift to sleep.

The image of the pony came to mind, purple fur, teal mane, wore a basic yellow t-shirt and pink shorts. A very colourful combination in her opinion.

She then thought of the others from her own experience and what she saw. Ponies of varied colours and species that hunted recklessly yet ignored each other as though they didn't exist unless they were after the same prey.

Some form of communication must exist between the violent ones but she has yet to see any signs. Her thoughts drifted back to the runaway, with a sigh her conscious finally got the better of her. She untied herself and climbed down from the tree.  She placed down her bag and checked her supplies. Two cans of beans and half a canteen of water.

She checked her pockets and noted that the hip flask was still full, her two empty 9mm mags rest in another pocket, knowing her third and final mag sat in the gun. Her lighter was the only thing left. Opening her journal she updated it with her days experiences, sprayed some of the fine powder over the pages to dry the ink, waited a moment then packed away the journal and rope. Rolling up the quilt she folded it over itself and tucked it into the more open bag. No longer fearing her hunters she was able to discard the empty items, clearing space.

With everything put away she threw the bag over her shoulders. Silently she left the forest in a crouch and swiftly descended the hill towards town, taking note of the building the runaway had entered.

Standing outside one of the city roads she braced herself as she entered the town. Nothing was worth mentioning, it seemed like any other small town. Businesses and homes placed haphazardly with no real consideration. Though she took note of a street seemingly dedicated to small stalls. Possibly a farmers market based on the rotten fruit and vegetables. Though she found some rather interesting looking stores, one being a large edible looking building.

Eventually she found the building she was looking for, a large store called Barnyard Bargains, she raised a brow to that. Entering through the shattered door, the glass crunched beneath her boots, she paused to allow her eyes to adjust to the shadows before entering the rest of the way.

She paused again as she heard the faint sound of sobbing. Slipping further into the store she stopped half way down an isle. Looking to her left she saw chopping axe's for sale. A grin spread across her lips as she took one from the rack and proceeded down the isle towards the quiet cries.

Reaching the end of the isle she peered around the edge and saw the pony she was looking for crouched down with her back turned. Small, possibly female by the tone of the voice, about a foot shorter then herself. Then she saw the wound. It was red and puffy, turned purple around the torn flesh with yellow pus seeping out. A definite infection.

“Miss?” she called, the mare stopped her sobbing. “Miss, can you hear me?”

The mare stood up slowly as she turned to the human. Her black bagged lids, fur soaked face held the same emotionless eyes as the creatures she put down in that accursed forest. The mare gave a shout as she charged.

Without thinking she reacted, the axe raised over her head before she brought it down on the thing in front of her, the skull split open with a spray of blood, ending its life instantly.

Her mind was ablaze, the gears whirled fast to understand. By the time the mare fell to a heap in the ground, the axe stuck where it struck, she knew the chaser was diseased somehow and passed the infection to the mare, most likely through the bite, 'like rabies?' She thought. Her memories of her first encounter and the condition the creatures body was in before she killed it came to mind. 'Maybe something worse.'

A rattle in a nearby isle invoked the memory of the the attack earlier in the day. Now she cursed her stupidity.

Moving as fast and as quiet as she can she made her way up the isle, stopping long enough to claim another axe. Upon reaching the front of the isle she slipped behind the shelf and looked back down the way.

She noticed a pony appear near the corpse, it seemed uninterested in it yet continued to look about. Soon a second, then a third appeared. Eventually they wandered off. With the coast clear she made her escape, the crunch of glass was too low to attract attention.

Moving further down the street she noted that some of the ponies, the infected, were out and about. She stopped in the shadows of a building to watch them from a distance. They showed little intelligence for a sentient race, wandering about aimlessly. Every little thing making them turn. Sometimes towards each other. When this occurs they seem to give a hoarse shout at one another. The first signs of communication she saw as of yet.

In most cases they wondered in silence but some could be heard crying while others mumbled incoherently. 'A form of lure to catch prey?'

With a sigh she took the first opportunity to move on. She thought it would be easier to move at nights but more were on the street then she expected. Still not near enough to hinder her but enough to slow down her progression.

Eventually she arrived at a store she passed earlier. Sneaking through the open door she saw the mess scattered around. She picked up a bottle, turned and threw it out the door before she hid behind the counter.

The cling of the unbroken bottle rang loud. Several rustles could be heard near her followed by the sound of hooves as three infected ran out onto the street. Moving forward she closed the store door and moved back behind the counter to watch. The three made their way back to the store only to see the closed door. Two turned and wandered off elsewhere, the third pushed open the door and walked towards the back of the store, the sounds of various objects knocked aside as it moved barely reached her ears.

Moving around the counter she followed the infected until she was close behind it. Silently she swung the axe with murderous intent, the blade split the skull with less blood spray then her last kill, and the body fell with a thump.

Waiting, unmoved for many moments she listened for a response. When nothing came she took out her bag, removed the quilt and began to stock up on items she could eat, mostly canned food as she didn't know the date.

With the bag refilled and a new pot and spoon to add to her utensils she packed up and prepared to leave. As she turned to go she felt a pull, she paused as her instincts told her to check further in. Not one to ignore what has kept her alive thus far, she ventured into the staff area of the shop. As she walked deeper in she stopped, took two steps back and turned to her left.

In front of her stood a walk-in freezer door. Gripping the handle she opened it and found herself staring at a shivering pony child.

She sighed as she found what her instincts called for, taking a tub of ice cream from the nearby shelf she turned back to regard the child. Unconscious but alive. Another sigh escaped her as her conscious once again got the better of her.

Taking the quilt from her bag she wrapped the child up, packed away the ice cream and threw the child over her shoulder. Taking the axe once more she closed the freezer door and left the building.

It was a quiet and uneventful trip back to the forest, worried it wasn't warm enough she pushed deeper into the trees then she did since she first left. Confident that she was far enough in she set down the child carefully. Unpacking some food, she then wandered away from the new camp site, making sure it was always in eye shot, she searched for firewood.

Many moments later she was back with the child and standing in front of a small pile of wood, a circle of stones, and a handful of dried leaves. Taking the wood and stacking them in twos inside the stone circle, each new layer crossing over the two under it. Shoving the leaves down the center of the miniature funeral pyre, she lit it with her lighter.

With some encouragement the fire took off, the sounds of a gentle flame and the smell of burning wood quickly greeted them. Happy in success she took the pot and rested it on top of the pyre. Opening a tin of beans she poured the contents into the pot and used a knife to stir it occasionally. She then retrieved her new spoon and ice cream.

The child stared at the strange fur-less creature that ate the tub of ice cream with a stupid grin. She watched it since she woke up to find herself out of the freezer, wrapped in a blanket of sorts with the thing building a fire. Every so often it would stir the pot full of beans.

It eventually took out a fork and scooped up a small number of beans and ate them. It seemed to evaluate its cooking before giving a small smile. One that made her think of her mother before the world fell apart.

She returned to reality as the pot was placed before her, the forks handle sticking out over the rim.

“Eat up, you need something warm in you.” came a calm and reassuring voice.

She looked up to see the creature move back to her spot where she proceeded to down the ice cream slowly, with a series of content moans that made the filly wonder just how much the creature enjoyed it.

Sitting up she moved closer to the fire, pulling the blanket over her shoulders she then carefully put the boiling hot pot in front of her then scooped some of the beans onto the fork and into her mouth.

She was instantly filled with warmth, tears fell freely from her eyes as she ate the first cooked meal she had in months. Even if they were just beans.

She watched the child devour the pitiful meal with abandon as tears matted her fur. Understanding all too well what the child must be experiencing, she broke down the pyre and threw more wood onto the flames. Opening the bag she took out another tin of beans. Not much but it was something. Scraping some of the wood away he revealed one of the stones placed near the heart of the fire, a long, flat piece picked for its ability to retain heat.

She then found a tin of corned beef. An idle thought entered her mind as she pondered why a mostly vegetarian species would have so much meat stored. Then again, she did notice some oddly shaped ponies from a distance, maybe there are more races then just them.

By the time she finished her thoughts she found herself slicing the corned beef and lay them across the heated slab.

Noticing that the child had finished she extended her hand and made a 'give me' gesture.

The child noticed and handed back the empty pot.

Filling it with beans once more the human placed the pot back on the burning wood before she took the flask from her pocket and handed it to the child who took it cautiously, opening the cap it sniffed the contents before taking a sip. Almost immediately it turned the flask and guzzled the contents.

Smiling sheepishly the pony handed back the flask which the human simply slipped it back into her pocket.

“What's your name?” asked the child, the voice was young and tomboyish but definitely female.

“It's not polite to ask for a persons name without giving your own.” responded the human.

The pony glared at her for a long moment, during which the human stirred the contents of the pot and scrapped the corned beef onto two flat rocks. The soft meat losing its shape as it transferred.

The pony licked her lips as she eyed the food, something the human noticed.

“I'm Scootaloo.” She finally said.

The human looked at her properly for the first time since she took the pony from the freezer. Her short purple mane hung in clumps from her head, her orange coat also clumped in various areas she could see under the now loosely hanging quilt, a purple tail poked out from under it. Her frame was petite yet athletic, covered by a pair of black running shorts and a blue hoodie.

'This Scootaloo could do with a long bath.' She thought. 'As could I, but where can I get one?'

She returned to reality to see the pony stare at her expectantly.

Placing one of the slabs holding the meat, followed by the pot, in front of the child, she returned to her own slab of formless meat.

“Nice to meet you, Scootaloo.” She eventually replied. “I'm Artemis Di, most just call me Di.”