The Trotting Dead Season 2

by IwuvWoona

Rating: teen
Tags: Sad, Dark
Length: 2174

I'm Applebloom! I'm Sweetie Belle! I'm Scootaloo! We're the Cutie-mark Crusaders, even though we have our marks... Thing is, we need help. Bad. We get by okay, but can three fillies survive long? Please, help us.

Ah'm Applebloom! Today is the first day of cider season, and ah can't wait to get every pony a fine glass of our cider. They're gathering outside as ah speak!

But why do they all look so pale? And why are mah sis and mah brother tellin' me to go and run away from the farm? Won't they need mah help?
____________________________________________________________________

My name is Sweetie Belle! Nice to meet you! Rarity's been so paranoid lately! More so than usual, and that's surprising!

She won't let me go outside, not even to go to school. She rarely goes out herself, and when she does, she comes back with a bunch of food and water.

Hey, that's featherweight outside! Why is he so pale?
____________________________________________________________

I'm Scootaloo!

Work with my mom at the orphanage is busier than ever! So many new foals come every day, but why?

Two of them have been bitten by dogs, and now they're sick. They're so pale, and they've developed a biting problem too.

My mother kicked us all out, one of the foals bit her. Is she okay?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-12-01 04:10:03 UTC

Chapter 1

"Applebloom, ah know what ah promised. I'm sorry, but you can't help us with the harvest this year." AppleJack paced around the barn, hiding her panic in doing so.

"Eeyup."

"But why? You guys aren't tellin' me anything!" Applebloom glared at her sister, refusing to budge.

"I'm not telling you anything because I barely know what's happening myself! You have to go, Applebloom."

The filly glanced at the window. "How do you know there's anything wrong with 'em? We usually get crowds around this size whenever cider season comes. I'll go to the cellar, and grab some barrels. I'll be a good help, you'll see!"

She bolted, or tried to.

Macintosh grabbed her by the tail.

"Nope!"

"Damn it, Applebloom! Just stop for a second and listen to me!"

AB went limp, Applejack never swore at her before. It stung her far worse than anything Diamond Tiara had ever done to her.

The mare's eyes filled with angered tears. She ended up punching a whole through the top section of the door.

"Applebloom, there won't be a "cider season" this year, and maybe never again!"

The foal simply stared.

"If ya' stay on the farm, you'll risk bein' killed! Run away from the barn while ya' still can. Run as far as you can, as FAST as you can. Just get away from here. We can buy you some time, but only if ya' start right now. Those ponies are sick, and its made 'em insane. That's all ah know, now go!"

"If it's that bad, let me help! Yer' the one who isn't seein' reason!"

Applejack was full on crying, her eyes holding more frustration than AB had ever seen.

She pulled her hoof to the side, and smacked Applebloom in the face.

And now she was here.

In a brown, puffy vest, with camo-pants, paint smeared on her cheeks, black boots, and a partially-done bow in her tangled mane.

She wasn't clean. She was never full, nor was her thirst ever quenched.

But she had her friends, and that alone gave her hope.

Even under a dim sky.

Even though they knew Twilight was dead.

"I'm sorry! I'm so, sorry." AppleJack had thrown her hooves around the filly, tears cascading down her cheeks like waterfalls, locking her sister in the tightest hug she'd ever given.

Applebloom couldn't move.

She'd never seen her sister like this, so depressed and hopeless. Macintosh shoving furniture in front of a splintering door.

AB saw it now. The ponies at the door were dead.

She returned her sister's hug. "alright. Ah'll run."

The  mare gazed at her. "No, no, AB. You need to promise that you'll run. Ya' need to promise that you'll go as fast as you can, as far as  you can. Y-ya' need to promise you want look back, no matter what you hear."

She froze again.

"Alright."

And she did run.

As far as she could, as fast as she could. Without looking back.

The filly rubbed the tattered length of ribbon that hung out of place compared to its other half. It offered far more security than any blanket she'd ever owned.

She glanced at her friends. Scootaloo praised Sweetie Belle for her courageous spell, thousands of stars followed her bright-green one.

AB was proud. Would they still be alive if she hadn't found them?

Then again, would they have been killed by Rainbow Dash if Scootaloo hadn't gotten them out of the Capitol?

And would there even be stars in the sky if Sweetie Belle hadn't done her spell? She'd practiced that spell since before the dead arose!

She yawned, and got out of her sleeping bag, her patrol would start soon.

Sweetie Belle stared out into the cloudy sky, waiting for her sister to come home.

What was wrong?

Why couldn't she go outside?

It was all so boring! The unicorn filly missed playing with her friends, and even going to school!

Meanwhile, Rarity got to go outside. Rarity got to go...do...THINGS!

She was being too protective. She'd smother her eventually...

After a while, the marshmallow of a mare burst through the door, carrying numerous bags of water, non-perishable foods, gasoline, batteries, and even guns & ammunition.

Rarity, who'd installed several unnecessary locks onto the door, secured the entrance to the boutique.

"What's all this stuff?'' the filly asked.

Her sister swept away the rivulets of sweat that dribbled down her face. She was tired, and her mane frazzled. "Oh, just some...groceries."

Sweetie Belle poked the barrel of a rifle, which stuck out a bag as much as Griffon Land bread. "Because guns are groceries."

"Well, they may be soon, Sweetie Belle."

"Why?"

"Erm...hopefully it doesn't have to come to finding out."

The filly grumbled and looked back out the window.

Featherweight was out there, his eyes dead and his coat pale.

Sweetie Belle stared into her starry sky, just like she did when she waited for Rarity.

It was dim, but she lit it.

She'd practiced the star spell ever since princess Luna visited her in her dreams.

To stare at how many more stars had appeared, not two the same color, was hope.

There were hundreds of unicorns left.

Just not Rarity.

Sweetie Belle loved her, with all her tiny heart. She'd give up so much, just for one more second with her favorite mare in the world.

Why didn't she do that before?

Rarity bit her lip.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me they were dead!?" Sweetie's eyes were on fire. Fueled by betrayal and hate.

"I didn't find out until just a few days ago, Sweetie."

"Why didn't you tell me THEN? How could you keep something like that from me!?" she screamed.

"You have to understand, I was just trying to protect you. You're losing that innocence that keeps you young. I just-"

She hid her face.

"I just didn't want you to lose it all so quickly..."

But that made the filly angrier.

"So you thought preserving my innocence was more important than telling me my parents DIED?! That that was more important than letting me hope for NOTHING!?"

Rarity shivered. "Keep your voice down! They'll hear you."

"Let them come! They'll just spit a bitch like you right out!"

The mare froze, never had her sister used such bitter words. "I wanted to-"

"I know what you wanted to do. And I want you to stay away from me." The filly's voice went eerily calm, but the hot tears still bit at her eyes.

Before Rarity could react, Sweetie Belle bolted up to her room, locking the door behind her.

A while later, there was the sound of tapping at her window.

Upon investigation, Sweetie found Applebloom on the ground, throwing pebbles at the glass.

Going with her, she wasn't sure if she would regret in the end, or applaud her decision.

Sweetie nestled herself in her wool, mauve sweater-dress.

She did go back with AB and Scootaloo once, but it was abandoned.

No traces of anything living there at any point in time. Except the clothes.

While Applebloom and Scoot got their clothes at some REI store, Sweetie looted hers from the boutique.

And it still smelled just a little like Rarity.

Shaking herself free of her thoughts, Sweetie noticed Applebloom climb up a ladder to the roof of the clubhouse.

"Mom."

She ran left, numerous bottles in her hoof.

"Mom."

She ran right, carrying fruit cups.

"MOM."

A mare, Candy Mane, screeched to a stop.

"What is it, hon?" Black circles surrounded her eyes, and her mane and tail frizzy.

The cries of three babies and two foals pulled her attention away from her daughter.

Scootaloo groaned, why were so many foals being dumped into the orphanage?

What, was there some freak baby boom or something?

A few months ago, Scoot's mom was fine on her own. Now? Two other volunteers had taken up residence, and it still isn't enough!

Foals have to sleep on the ground for crying out loud.

That morning, two foals came, and they'd been bitten by dogs.

A few hours later, they got REALLY sick.

Regret, that's the word.

The word that meant sorrow for past deeds, a longing to redo them.

Scoot regretted hurting her mother the way she did.

Candy wanted what was best for them, even if that shoving them away.

She protected her, and the orphans, by shunning them. It was the only way to save them all.

And Scootaloo just turned around and spat at her.

Like Sweetie with Rarity. Except, Candy had a good reason. Rarity didn't, not really.

She stood by Sweetie, in mud-covered bogs, black shirt, black pants

Scootaloo groaned.

Her mother was flicking the lights on and off, not to mentioning she was shouting "Up and at 'em!" at the top of her lungs.

She groggily crawled out of her bunk, and several dozens of other foals followed, each one whining about how they shouldn't be woken up at just two in the morning.

Scoot watched her mother with curiosity, taking quick notice of the neat chunk taken out of her ankle. Something bit her. Recently. Blood poured from the wound in a sight that was all but traumatizing to a foal who had never handled gore.

"Mom? Is everything okay?"

Candy Mane's tired eyes darted towards her foal. "D-don't worry hon. Everything will be JUST fine! B-b-but you'll have to listen to every direction VERY carefully, alright?"

The pegasus was shocked, she had her mother's undivided attention despite the multitude of foals around them.

When all of the sleepy foals were out of their cots, cribs, and bunks, Candy lifted her hooves to catch their attention. "Alright, every foal...You all need to REALLY QUICKLY give your teeth and manes a good brushing. A REAL good brushing, alright? Then, I want all of you to follow me to the cellar."

The foals obediently did as you were told, with little suspicion. Though, there was one who questioned Candy's motives.

"It isn't alright. Something bad is going to happen, isn't it, mom?" Scoot paused in front of the mare, looking her in the eye.

She squirmed under her filly's firm gaze, "No, nothing is okay. Nothing. B-but it might be, if you please just do as your told."

Scootaloo didn't back down, and she began to notice that her mom was shivering, fear lurked in her eyes. All of a sudden, Candy scooped up her up and embraced her.

She didn't let go for an entire minute, tears spilling from her tired, white-flecked eyes.

The filly went limp. Her mother hadn't hugged her in months, almost a year. No time for such things.

"Please, just...please. I'm begging you, just do as your told." Her voice was tiny and scared, like a lost foal.

"Yes, mom."

The foals groomed themselves, rather unhappily, then followed a rushed Candy Mane to the cellar, where she kept food.

Two cans of food and a canteen filled with lemon-water went to every foals.

And then, one-by-one, the shooed them, ALL of them, outside. Then she locked them out.

Scootaloo pounded on the door, betrayal welling up in her chest.

"Tell me what's wrong!" She screamed.

Candy opened up a window enough for sound to clearly be heard. The mares eyes were puffy from crying, but she had a bright smile plastered on her muzzle. "What was your group called? The Cutiemark crusaders? Go find them, light their way."

"But what's wrong?!"

"E-everything will be fine! Just leave me and go find someplace safe. A-avoid whoever looks-erm-dead. I-if you end up with some big ponies, be good for them. You can't come back in, though. No matter what you see or hear, you can't come in."

Scoot was appalled. Who abandoned this many foals at one time? Their own child?

"You hag! Let us in!"

"I love you, sweetie!" she called, and shut the window.

"Mom! MOM!"

Scoot screamed and kicked the base of the building. "Deserter!" she called. She wasn't quite sure what it meant, but she knew it was an insult.

After a while, Scoot was defeated, and she looked up at the window. The faint outline of a hanging mare stood out in the curtain.

There was no moon.

She saved her.

Applebloom was gone, presumably to begin her shift.

PFFFT-CH! PFFFT-CH! PFFFT-CH!

Convenient confirmation!

Scoot undid the window latch, opened it up, and flew to the roof.

She descended just a little too fast, and crashed into the clubhouse's newly made crow's nest (made courtesy of AppleBloom) .

The earth pony within shot three more bolts from her crossbow, not even glancing at her friend.

"Howdy, Scoot. Still getting the hang of landing?"

"At least I'm finally flying."

There was silence between the two.

"Ah've been seein' more trotters lately."

"I think six shots in a row is enough proof of that."

The fillies stared at the empty spot in the sky where Luna's moon once was.

AB sighed. "We need tah get outta' here."