Hunted

The rain had become a din as it fell, water flowed down the streets in streams. The sound of the infected shouting in the distance could barely be heard.

Di sidestepped an infected as it charged past her. She hopped back to get some distance but they closed the gap instantly. Lifting the axe to her shoulder she hopped to the left and swung it as another passed, the axe struck and cleaved the upper half of the once ponies head off in a show of force, far from a clean cut.

Something slammed her from behind, knocking her to the ground with a splash. Quickly she rolled over and swung. Fortune was in her favour as the axe connected with the infected as it tried to get to her.

She quickly stood up and tried to lift the axe only to find it stuck. The final infected grabbed her by the shirt from behind. She felt its warm breath on her neck.

She let go of the axe and spun as she lowered her upper body, leaping back she let her shirt slide off. She quickly recovered and charged forward with a roar and drove her elbow into the things head, knocking it to the ground.

Grabbing the axe she gave a shout as she pulled it free. The final infected was already up. She slid her foot across the ground, widening her stance and swung with all her might in a fit of rage. The axe passed through the creatures neck, severing its head from its body.

Breathing heavily stood still for a moment as her heart rate gradually returned to normal. She spied her shirt in the distance but paused as she heard more screams of the infected. Screams she now associated with the hunt.

A series of splashes up the street drew her attention, in the distance she barely made out a handful of infected through the rain.

Afraid, her hand drifted to the pistol but stopped short of the handle. She quickly took up the axe in both hands, turned and ran in what she hoped was the direction mare went.

Scootaloo ran uninterrupted. The few Turned she encountered were easily avoided as she moved, the heavy rain and splashes of her hooves were all she could hear.

She turned a corner as a loud bang could be heard in the distance.

The mare paused and looked back, worried for Di. But the words the human spoke earlier rang in her head, “loyalist” she had called her. She returned to her run with more determination then fear, she had a friend to find.

She eventually found the street she was looking for and smiled, the area was one of a few that was normally overran with the Turned that made it impossible for her to enter but now it was empty.

A scream startled her, a pony ran across the street with a Turned giving chase. Both vanished behind a house as she took off in a sprint.

She quickly covered the distance and took the corner with ease, the Turned just ahead of her. With a shout and a jump she slammed into it from behind, her legs and arm wrapped around it as she droved her knife into its skull. The Turned fell to the ground, lifeless with her sitting on its back.

She looked up to see a pale purple pony with a short blond mane wearing a thin white dress that clutched to her in the rain. A short, straight, spiral shaped horn protruded at an angle from  her upper forehead.

The purple mare stared at her in disbelief before she stood up and ran.

Scootaloo was stunned, her friend was alive. Scared, but alive. She was knocked from her stupor when the mare took off.

“Dinky!” Scootaloo called as she pulled the knife free. “Wait!”

“Stupid.” Di chanted under her breath as she ran. She couldn't believe how blind she was. The rain alone wouldn't cause such an uproar across town, the infected were too restless compared to what she had seen. They acted more like the ones she first encountered.

The memory of the three screams told her what they were hunting. Most likely a group had entered town while she and Scoots were in the forest. But for the entire town to go mad? The only thing that made sense was that the group was large and broke apart after they encountered the infected.

Now she was stuck in the middle of the mess searching for a pony she only met by chance the night before without a clue as to where she went.

Ahead of her she saw a commotion. Two figures stood on the open street, one animatedly doing something with what appeared to be a pole. She couldn't tell due to the rain. What she could tell were the three stumbling figures quickly making their way towards them.

Taking her axe she silently prayed to whatever deity would listen as she swung it over and behind her head. With a yell she jumped and hurled it.

A brown stallion, stood on the street in a panic, his rifle was jammed and refused to budge. Behind him stood his friend, a yellow furred and orange haired mare. Her rifle had long since broken and now wielded it like a club.

Both were terrified, the thought to run failed to register as the Turned closed in on them. He raised his rifle to shield himself when something slammed into the nearest Turned's head, knocking it to the ground. As it went down he heard the sound of splashes rapidly grow louder.

He was shocked to see a figure charge forward and punch a Turned in the side of the head with a small black object. The object flared to life with a bang as the opposite side of the Turned's head exploded outwards. The third Turned was knocked to the side by an invisible force.

As quickly as the figure came it was gone, disappearing into the heavy rain as it ran down the street without stopping. His surprise soon left him, and with it his fear. With a sharp tug the rifle slit and two empty bullet casing slid free.

He looked back to the corpses to see that their saviour had forgotten its axe.

Scootaloo chased Dinky across gardens and down alleyways as the purple mare tried to get away. She couldn't understand why her friend ran from her nor why she couldn't catch up. She was far more athletic then her friend who seemed to be on her last legs yet the gap never closed.

She lost sight of Dinky as she turned a corner. Following close behind she ran into someone standing in the way. Staggering back she readied her knife only to feel her courage falter.

What stood in front of her was a Turned unlike any she had seen before. It had a fungus like plant growing from its head, shaped like a surreal crown. One eye was grown over but the other stared at her with a predatory glare as it stood up straight.

A quick glance told her that Dinky was no longer there, with that she ran back around the corner as the Turned gave a hoarse scream.

Di knelt over a body she found face down in the dirt, examining it as she caught her breath.

“Knife wound to the head.” She muttered as she looked around.

There was nothing else, no clues as to who performed the kill, though she assumed it was Scootaloo, nor any hint as to where the killer went though she didn't expect any due to the downpour.

Irritated and worried she stood up and walked to the corner of the house and checked the streets. Seeing nothing she stepped out and walked in a random direction, completely lost.

She made a mental checklist of what weapons she had but all that was left was the pistol. A loud and limited tool that would get her killed in the long run should she use it recklessly.

With a sigh she walked to a random house and pushed open the door as she pulled the pistol from its holster.

She entered and made her way to the kitchen. With a quick glance around she found a knife block. She took one and put away her gun before she searched the rest of the building.

In one of the bedrooms she found a spear mounted on a stand against the wall. With a shake of her head she searched the room and found something wrapped in a black cloth. Curious, Di unrolled it and smiled. She tossed the kitchen knife away then pulled the combat knife from its sheath and inspected it. Thick, heavy, and sharp.

She sheath the blade, shut the clasp and placed it onto a nearby shelf. Unbuckling the belt that carried her holster she added the sheath then equipped the belt once more. Her gun hung from her right hip as usual while her new knife hung from her left.

She looked out the window and tried her best to figure out where Scootaloo would run off to. She wasn't ignorant, she knew that Scootaloo most likely held onto her belief that her friend, Dinky, was alive and when she heard the screams she feared for Dinky and ran.

'A rash loyalist, definitely going to get herself killed.' She thought.

Realisation dawned on her. She remembered what Scootaloo said, that she stayed in a clubhouse on the farm. If she was alive then at some point she would return there. Only problem was she had no clue where anything was, the rain made it impossible to see very far ahead. Then again, she wasn't obligated to protect the mare.

For a while she stood there, staring out the window as she considered her choices. With a sigh she decided to leave it to chance. She planned to leave town and if she happened to be near the farm she'd look around. If not, then Scootaloo was on her own.

She left the house, turned right and began to walk, focused on listening as she moved. The sounds of the infected hunting grew further from her but she still remained on edge, not wanting to be surprised.

“Time Turner.” Whispered the yellow mare.

“Yes, Harvest?” The brown stallion faced his friend, Golden Harvest.

Instead of replying she pointed out the window at a person who casually walked down the street, tan body and brown hair matted with rain. It wore a dark pair of pants and boots. Both simply watched as it turned a corner and vanished from sight.