Fallout: Equestria - Sunny Days and Lonely Nights

Chapter 4: The Wandering Doctor

“Never go to a doctor whose office plants have died.”

I don’t know which hurt more, my leg or my head. As I felt consciousness slowly returning, the pain that burned both in my leg and in the back of my head returned in full force, coaxing a strangled squeak out of me. Burning, stabbing, tearing; it was all there. All that I needed right now was to fall right into a radioactive puddle of leftover goop from two hundred years ago and my agonizing return to the land of the living would be complete.

Wrestling my eyes open, I found myself staring up at a splintered ceiling. Rays of light still shone through the clouds, allowing me to see the dust floating around within the attic between the large holes that cut into the roof. This certainly wasn’t the same house that I had woken up in earlier. Obviously the holes in the roof were a significant difference, but the air was much closer here, more musty. The color of the ceiling was different, too. Brown instead of a dirty white like the other place.

Still, pain. Pain was taking precedence here. With a groan I propped myself up with my forehooves and looked down at my leg. The ache festering in the back of my head certainly didn’t like that, causing myself to wince as it felt like I had been hit in the back of head more than once with a sledgehammer. Fortunately, I still retained my consciousness and saw that where the bear trap had snapped around my leg was now crudely wrapped up in a dirty and blood-soaked cloth.

Well, that answers whether or not Estoc finally got the gun safe open.

The cloth hadn’t stopped the bleeding entirely, however. Or, at least, stopped it from getting the couch I was laying on soaked as well. I must have bled for a while longer after my leg was wrapped up as there was a dark stain covering the cushion that my mangled leg was laying on. Everything was dry now, but fuck me, Luna, I bled a lot. Estoc must not have had an easy time getting me out of that trap.

Speaking of which, where was he?

I looked around the room, fighting the throbbing in the back of my head as my growing headache screamed at me to lay back down. The whole house was a complete mess. Piles of rubble lay scattered about the room from where pieces of the ceiling had either collapsed or where furniture had disintegrated. Most of the windows were shattered or heavily cracked and a trail of blood, which was undoubtedly mine, ran from the edge of the couch all of the way to the back door located in the corner of the room. Or from the door to the couch if you wanted to be more precise.

When my eyes finally drifted to a hallway that led further into the house, I spotted Estoc’s saddlebags, his pistol holster with the gun still in it, and a large hunting rifle propped up against the wall. There was also the battle rifle sitting on the floor, although it was in a state of disassembly at the moment, and my saddlebags and revolver were laying next to it.

Smart thinking, buddy. With these two rifles we’re not gonna have to rely on our pistols anymore. So long as we have ammo…

With Estoc still nowhere to be found, I slid myself off of the couch only for my face to meet the floor with a THUD. Oh fuck me, my leg gave out from under me before I could even put any kind of significant pressure on it. Not good.

I dug my hooves into the floor and pulled myself across the dirty carpet over to the scattered pieces of the battle rifle. The stock was scuffed to all hell and was covered by a thin film of dirt, the barrel was caked in black soot, the sights were missing entirely, and the list could go on. All in all, this gun was in very bad shape and it was pretty clear as to why Estoc had taken it apart. Probably trying to clean it or something.

As I picked up the rifle’s stock to take a closer look at the scuffs littered across it, the back door opened. I whipped my head around, my headache protesting quite painfully, and found Estoc pushing himself in with a first-aid kit locked in his mouth. He looked back at me, raising his eyebrows.

“You’ve got the whole “deer in some headlights” stare going on,” he said.

I quickly looked away, going back to inspecting the rifle stock. “No I don’t. Fuck off. You just walked in suddenly. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“And I wasn’t expecting you to be up and about already.” He put the first-aid kit down on the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted him looking at my leg. “Have you been able to walk?”

I put the rifle stock back down, although I pointedly continued staring at the rest of the other gun parts lying in front of my hooves. At the mention of walking, the pain in my leg seemed to intensify out of sheer spite, making me wince. Estoc must have seen that, or maybe he noticed my long silence, because the corners of his mouth turned upside down into a frown.

“I tried,” I finally said.

“That bad, huh?”

“What do you think?”

Estoc picked up the first-aid kit again and walked over to me. When he sat himself down, he placed the kit in front of the two of us, but didn’t open it. Instead, he put one hoof on the top of the box before turning to me and giving me a look that clearly meant business.

“While you were out I did some more scavenging and found this,” he said, tapping on the box. “There weren’t any healing potions or salves, but I did find Med-X.”

My eyes darted to the box under his hoof. Something inside of my chest stirred, tightened. I felt cold and overheated at the same time. I licked my lips and smooshed my forehooves into the ground.

“Estoc, you can’t be…” I started.

I squeaked when I felt him touch my shoulder with his own hoof. “Sunny, look at me.” I did, tearing my eyes away from the box. “Your leg’s fucked up right now. You can’t walk, you can barely sit. You’re fidgeting like an anxious filly.”

Now that he mentioned it, my bad leg couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position.

“And I can’t carry you around everywhere, either,” he added. “We need to get on our hooves and keep moving. There has to be more raiders out there and we’re not going to be safe staying in here scrounging around for healing potions for several weeks. I know you have a bad history with Med-X, but you’ll only be taking it until we can find some healing potions, alright?”

Numbness. Euphoria. Nonchalant. No one could possibly forget what taking Med-X felt like, especially not when you’re hooked. Nothing mattered so much anymore. Life was mellow and sweet. Your body and mind are lax, no longer confined to the stress that the Wasteland can present to you on a daily basis. It was like experiencing life from the point of view of an apathetic optimist.

And of course there was the whole “pain med” aspect of it as well. My leg did hurt a lot, after all.

I reached for the box, but Estoc swatted my hoof away and glared at me. He moved the first-aid kit further away, but instead of chasing after the box, I firmly planted my hoof back onto the floor and gritted my teeth. Fucker.

“Estoc, you said it yourself,” I said, shifting my eyes back to him when I realized I was still staring at the box. “When I pulled myself off of the couch, I couldn’t even stand for a second. My leg gave out from under me. I face planted. I’m not okay to be running about, let alone walking. Give me a syringe.”

“I’m not suggesting that you shoot up Med-X so that you can relapse and get strung out again,” he said, still glaring at me. “You keep eyeballing this box like you have been and I’m going to throw it into the fireplace and burn it. You’re sacrificing your dope sobriety so that we can get out of this shithole, do you understand me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I growled, narrowing my eyes at him. “You don’t think I remember what I was like when I was high out of my fucking mind? Well, I don’t, but with how often you told me stories about the kind of pony I was I got the idea. I chose to get help and wean myself off of it, didn’t I?”

Estoc visibly relaxed, although he still refused to pull the first-aid kit closer to me. “You did. That still doesn’t give you a free pass to drug yourself up when I open this box, though. You’re going to get addicted again and who knows if we’re going to be able to find any help for you while we’re in Baltimare. I doubt that there’s a neuroscientist who was conveniently dropped into this city as well.”

The box is right there. Right there! When will he stop lecturing me and just give me a syringe? What is he waiting for? The sun to come out and shine on some kind of better alternative? Yeah right, buddy.

“Estoc, do you want a compromise?” I asked, tapping my hoof on the floor. “Name some conditions. Anything. If you think it’ll keep me from going crazy, the go ahead and say it. I’ll do what it takes if it means I’m not going to be the deadweight here.”

Estoc gave me a long hard stare, letting silence swallow the room while he undoubtedly mulled some compromises over. It was pretty uncomfortable, his eyes trained on me like I’d reach for the first-aid kit while he had let himself relax. He said it himself. Med-X is the painkiller that’ll get me walking until we find some healing potions, and we need to get walking fast before something else discovers us. We’ve already had two close calls between the giant bat and those raiders. I don’t think either of us want to press our luck by waiting in this house until my leg’s healed up enough.

Besides, the whole euphoric high is only a side effect. A nice side effect, but just a side effect. We’re doing this for my leg.

Finally, after what felt like hours (but was probably only five minutes), Estoc pulled the first-aid kit closer to me and opened it up. Inside were five syringes all neatly arranged in a row, protected and held in place by individual foam cutouts. They were all in immaculate condition, the glass unscathed and each of the needles appearing to never have been touched. I lifted my hoof to reach for the box, but when I saw Estoc’s eyes narrow at me I promptly put my hoof back onto the floor and shifted my entire body to make myself feel more comfortable. It didn’t work. My leg was still restless.

“Here’s the compromise,” he said. “I will be carrying this first-aid kit with me at all times and you will have to ask me to get another dosage of Med-X. No reaching into my bag, no demands. On top of that, you will only be getting one syringe every eight hours. No exceptions. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it!” I said.

I looked at Estoc, and after a few moments he finally nodded his head. I pulled out one of the syringes and gave it a closer look. Ten milliliters of clear liquid had already been loaded, and when I pressed down on the plunger a few droplets spewed out of the needle. It worked just as well as it looked, surprisingly.. Five doses over the course of forty hours was going to be more than enough to keep me going to find a healing potion for my leg, even if towards the tail end of each of those eight hours I’ll probably be miserable.

In the midst of looking for something to wrap around my leg, Estoc gave over a spare, bloodied rag that had been lying on the floor. I took it and tied it tight just above my knee on one of my forelegs, enough so that when I flexed my leg my veins and arteries screamed at me from being constricted. It did the job, though, because when I ran my hoof from my other leg through my fur I felt my veins bulging out of my skin. Good thing I’m so skinny and don’t have deep veins or this shit would have been a total bitch.

With my veins exposed, I jammed the needle into my leg and carefully pushed onto the plunger. Slowly I felt Med-X seeping itself into my bloodstream, and in an instant relaxation overtook my senses. A wave of heat rushed over my body, turning my brain into butter while the stinging sensation in my leg faded away like it had never existed. The musty air felt fresh all around me, the gentle breaths from Estoc’s nose echoed within my ears, and his yellow eyes shone vibrantly like I’ve never seen them before. Better yet, with my headache gone and my leg no longer howling at me to lay off of it, I felt like a new pony.

I deposited the syringe on the ground and then pushed myself onto my hooves. Yeah, I was a bit wobbly at first, but when I applied pressure on my bad leg not even a sharp twinge ran up my spine. It was as if I’d never stepped into the bear trap in the first place, so long as my eyes didn’t drift down to the blood soaked bandages, of course. Oh, this is exactly what I needed.

“How’re you feeling?” Estoc asked, snapping me out of my gleeful trance.

I grinned at him. “Never better. You’re a real hero today, Estoc, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he grumbled.

“Oh, c’mon now, don’t be all gloomy. You just saved your best buddy from a whole world of misery and hurt. Blasted away some raider faces, got me out of that bear trap, and then got me back up onto my hooves in no time.” I gently shoved his shoulder. “Not even feeling a little proud of yourself?”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” I beamed, then turned to look at the mess of battle rifle parts still littered across the floor. “So, in the process of cleaning this thing?”

“You’ll never change,” I heard Estoc mutter under his breath. He then stepped up next to me and grabbed the rifle stock. “This is after I’ve cleaned this thing. We don’t have any alcohol or cleaning supplies, so the grime that’s pretty much engraved itself into the barrel, stock, trigger, you name it, isn’t going to come off with just a rag. The raider that carried it never took it apart once.”

“Eugh,” I groaned, sticking my tongue out. “This thing’s going to jam like a motherfucker.”

Estoc sat down and started reassembling the battle rifle. He was quick, putting each piece of the rifle back together deftly enough that it appeared to defy what pony hooves are usually capable of. Putting the bolt into the receiver, then putting the spring back on, stuffing the barrel back into the stock. You know, gun reassembly stuff. All of the pieces appeared to still fit together quite nicely, but even after whatever cleaning Estoc had managed to do with just a rag, the rifle still looked to be in as good a shape as it was when it was on the unicorn raider’s back.

When he’d inserted the trigger back into the stock, he turned and held the rifle out to me. My muzzle contorted and I glared at him.

“Why’re you giving this piece of shit to me?” I asked, suddenly imagining the rifle as some kind of horrible, Taint-infested metal slug monster.

“I opened the safe, I killed those raiders, I get the hunting rifle,” Estoc said, the brooding look he’d managed since he walked in through the back door replaced by a stupid smirk. He shook the rifle in front of me as if that would somehow convince me to take it. “Don’t want it? Well, I could always rig up a battle saddle and-”

I snatched the battle rifle out of his hooves and hugged it against my chest. “If this thing jams and blows up in my face, it’s your own damn fault.”

“Oh, yes, I understand, Sunny. Would you like to take it apart yourself to make sure all of the parts are in working order?”

I looked down at the rifle and frowned. Obviously the trigger comes out first, but…

“Very funny, Estoc,” I grumbled. “Why would I do that when it’s your job?”

“Calling it a job would imply I’m getting paid for it. Do you pay me?”

“Last I remember, you said that giving head counts.”

Estoc closed up the first-aid kit and shoved it into his saddlebags before slinging them over his back. “Then I must be getting a pretty big tip on top of my pay because you give way more than just head. It’s not just because you like snuggling out in the middle of the cold Wasteland at night anymore, is it?”

I puffed my cheeks out while I slipped my own saddlebags over my back.

“Asshole.”

Oh, yes, witty comeback. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anything else left to say to him at that point. He crossed the line with that snuggling comment. It gets cold in the Wasteland, and when you don’t have much of anything to sleep under, body heat is a great way to keep warm. Everyone knows that! Would he rather have hypothermia? I didn’t think so.

With my saddlebags comfortably situated on my back, I slid the battle rifle through one of my bag straps on the opposite side of where I kept my gasmask. The barrel stuck out just past my shoulder a little bit, making it easy for me to grab onto it and pull it out quickly enough so that I could line up a shot if the need ever arose. Lastly, I slipped my pistol holster with my revolver in it onto my uninjured hind leg.

By the time I was done, I looked up to find Estoc already geared up and ready to go by the back door. He had a shoulder strap for his hunting rifle, allowing him to wear it comfortably across his back while still having the barrel easy to reach with his mouth. Which reminded me…

“You went snooping around without your weapons, didn’t you?” I asked.

Estoc’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? Of course I took them.”

“Then what were they doing sitting up against the wall?”

“I was out back contemplating giving you the Med-X while you were asleep.”

Oh. Well, uh...

Before the situation could get any more awkward, the faint sound of rotary blades roaring off in the distance perked our ears. We both looked at each other for a split second, then went racing outside, which was a mistake on my part. I was instantly blinded, stumbling over my hooves and frantically rubbing my eyes as they gradually adjusted to the piercing cloudlight. It’s like that moment when someone shines a lantern in your face, and not even a dose of Med-X could shield me from the sudden fuckload of light that destroyed everything resting in my eye sockets.

When my eyes finally adjusted to the outside world I was greeted to very much the same scenery as the cul de sac from before. Much of the ground around me was barren, devoid of most plants. Only a few managed to fight against the sunless sky and dry earth, but their numbers were few and far between. The entire yard was fenced in, but the fence was low, allowing me to spy into the neighboring yards only to find that they were in pretty much the same state of death. The houses didn’t look much better, either, and from where I stood it was impossible to find even a little scrap of building didn’t look like as dull and withering as the ground.

I spun around and glanced up at the roof, spotting Estoc already having floated up to the ridge. The constant whir of rotary blades came from that direction, and so with a spread of my wings I flapped up next to him. Together we huddled on top of the roof, peering just over the top and looking in the general direction of the noise.

Sure enough, over in what looked like the same cemetery that we had been dropped off was another Griffonchaser coming in for a landing. Already it had its rear ramp opened up, but the thing was so far away that it was impossible to see whether or not anything was flying in or out of it.

“Looks like the slavers came back just like they said they would,” Estoc snarled. “Probably dropping off a band of themselves to come hunt us.”

“They weren’t kidding about the whole cat and mouse game,” I replied, feeling a cold shiver run down my spine. “I hope they go after and kill those stealing fucks first.”

Estoc took his eyes off of the Griffonchaser, looking sideways at me. “One way or another, we’ll probably find out soon enough which way they went. C’mon, let’s get moving and cover as much ground today as we still can.”

I nodded, but while Estoc slid all of the way down off of the roof, I took a second to stare at the Griffonchaser as it took off from the cemetery. Whatever cargo it had been carrying was already unloaded, and in no time it zipped away in the opposite direction they we were headed. The hum of its blades faded out, allowing for the desolate silence of Baltimare to return.

We needed one of those, no doubt about it.

~~~

Gun shots exploded several blocks away from where Estoc and I were busy scavenging, breaking the tense silence that we’d come accustomed to since we left the derelict house. In an instant our ears perked while we stared out of the shattered windows of an old diner. Faded, red chairs lay scattered about the floor, most of them knocked over or pushed away from the tables that they had once accompanied. Old glasses, plates, and silverware were strewn about all over the place, either mixed in with the chairs on the floor or lying on the tables and counters as if they had been left in a hurry by the ponies who had once eaten here. Or maybe died eating here considering all of the skeletons curled up on the floor around the diner.

More gun shots rang out, but this time they were shortly accompanied by a panicked squeal from a filly. I glanced over at Estoc, and he must have caught the look of determination on his face because he slowly shook his head and frowned.

“We don’t have time for this, Sunny,” he said. “You know why we’re out here.”

I stamped my hoof on the tile floor. “We’ve been searching for hours with no luck. House after house, store after store and we haven’t found a single healing potion! There’s nothing here, Estoc. Whatever first-aid kits we’ve come by have been empty and every medicine cabinet’s had nothing but rotten bandages left in it. Clearly we’re not looking in the right place.”

“And you’re guessing that whoever might be screaming out there would know?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask them, would it? Beats going from house to house rummaging through mold and more bullshit.”

Estoc cocked an eyebrow. “And what if those screams are a trap for ponies like us? Would-be do-gooders. Or maybe the screaming’s coming from a raider while the gunshots are coming from some distrusting scavengers?”

“And what if it’s neither of those?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow challengingly back at him. “I didn’t hear any return shots, did you?”

“No.”

“Then there’s a chance that there’s a damsel in distress just waiting to be rescued.” I kicked a red chair out of the way and headed straight for the door out of the diner. “Unless you want to keep sifting through musty, broken house after musty, broken house. Do you?”

“Not really, to be honest,” Estoc sighed.

Four more shots echoed through the city streets, although there was no scream to accompany them this time. I glanced behind myself to find Estoc following behind me, looking about as enthused as a somepony learning that there’s a band of Steel Rangers about to pass near their town. He didn’t protest anymore, though. Thankfully.

We stepped out onto the desolate city street just as a gentle gust of wind picked up to rustle our manes. In the hours since we’d got my leg temporarily working, we’d traveled along one of Baltimare’s wider suburb streets, which eventually took us into a more commercial area. Smaller shops like pedicure salons, clothing stores, a post office, and so on sat alongside all of the houses, most of the time bunches of these stores being placed at the entrance to individual cul de sacs. It gave the whole street more of a convenient feel to it, allowing only what I could imagine ponies to go from home to the store and back without much of a hassle.

Still, the rest of my feelings about this place all amounted to one simple word: bad. No matter where we walked, turned, or looked, the remains of ponies from years and years ago continued to follow us. Bones littered the streets with the dirt and sparsely growing plants, and large cracks ripped through the asphalt and cement streets to complement the peeling paint, ruined windows, and slouching roofs of the buildings that they ran between. Not even ghosts would want to live here.

Twenty nine gunshots and three blocks later, Estoc and I finally got within range of a bunch of voices from just down the next street. Although we couldn’t make out the words, we could make out the rough tones of a few stallions as well as the sobbing, strangled tone of a single mare. The gunshots had stopped for now, but whatever those stallions were up to really wasn’t in the filly’s best interests. Clearly.

We rounded the corner, peering down a wide street full of one or two-story shops. A pile of debris from a ruined coffee shop lay just several paces in front of us, and ahead we spotted the unmistakable heads of several raiders all grouped together, laughing to themselves. There was no sign of the mare, though. There was a good chance that she was out of sight of us because I still heard her quiet whimpers. I just hoped that she wasn’t lying underneath that gang of filthy fucking pricks. If these guys were keen on forcing mares to give them bloody blowjobs, I can only imagine what other shit they’d managed to come up with. It was enough to make me shiver.

The corner we hid behind didn’t provide a clear line of sight to the raiders, and being that they hadn’t noticed us or were even paying attention to anything but themselves, Estoc and I moved up to the pile of rubble. We crouched low, using the pile as cover in the off chance that a raider might turn around and spot the tips of our ears moving closer. Not that it mattered anyways, because by the time we crawled up to the tip top of all of the shingles, bricks, and dust, the raiders still had their heads turned towards what had been their entertainment; the mare.

Talk about a literal damsel in distress. Her coat was as dark as chimney soot whole both her large, flowing mane and tail were as golden as polished gold itself. She wore a raggedy dress that was absolutely covered in thick, large splotches of dirt, making it nearly impossible to tell that it had once been white if not for the tiny patches of fabric that had been left only partially unscathed. Her eyes, though. If there was anything about her that stood out the most, it was the brilliant, bright blue eyes that stared helplessly back at the group of raiders standing no more than twenty paces away from her. A chain dangled from the shackle locked around her neck, which was connected to a rail spike that had been nailed into the ground to prevent her from venturing too far.

“Will you hurry the fuck up?” one of the raiders asked impatiently to an earth pony. He was a tall, lanky unicorn with burns covering his entire body. “We came out here to teach the pretty mare to dance and you’ve been sitting on your ass for the past five minutes loading your fucking magazine. Think ahead next time, fuckboy.”

“Piss off,” the earth pony loading the magazine snarled back. On the ground next to him was an assault rifle that looked to be in no better condition than my battle rifle. “We’ve burned through the two fucking magazines we have. You think you can load faster with your tiny prick? Fine, go ahead. Unless you think you’d have better luck with your little pistol.”

The unicorn snatched the magazine and bag of bullets that the earth pony had been using, sneering. Two other raiders, both also earth ponies, were too busy shooting googly eyes and cooing at the indisposed mare to pay their two bickering buddies much attention. She was the only one facing our direction, but judging by the way she still had her eyes on the raider group she hadn’t noticed me or Estoc yet. Probably for the best considering that if she had spotted us, it wouldn’t be too long before all of the assholes having fun with her would spot us, too.

“You likin’ the break over there, sweetcheeks?” one of the other earth ponies asked. “Make sure to stay limbered up! Wouldn’t want anything to happen you!”

“P-please!” she shouted back at him, fresh tear tracks streaming down her face. “Don’t do this. Let me go! I’ll do anything for you guys if you just let me go!”

The whole group broke into a fit of laughter that sent a chill up my spine. While the unicorn was still busy loading up magazine, the three earth ponies all started to mock her by poorly mimicking her pleas and whines. I slowly pulled the battle rifle from my saddlebag strap, ignoring the disapproving gaze that Estoc gave me out of the corner of his eye.

“You said the same thing yesterday when we wanted to take you bungee jumping!” one of the earth ponies said. “You want us to keep finding new activities for you to do? Don’t be such a bore, cutiepie.”

The mare frantically shook her head, rattling the chain. “Wh-what if one of th-the bullets rich… ricochets off the ground into me?”

“You’d better hope that doesn’t happen!” he said, snickering again. “Mag loaded yet?”

The unicorn popped the last bullet into the magazine before levitating it over to the earth pony. “Ready and waiting. Pop it in and get her to dance again, she’s had a long enough break.”

While the mare broke into a fit of sobs, tugging at the chain, the earth pony shoved the mag into his automatic rifle and cocked it. I couldn’t bear this anymore. I looked over at Estoc, battle rifle in my hooves, and narrowed my eyes.

“There’s another pile of rubble just on the other side of the street,” I whispered, pointing at the debris in question. “Take up position there, okay?”

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Estoc asked, keeping his voice down as well. “It’s four against two, and the moment we open up on these assholes they’re liable to shoot her first.”

“If we’re careful with our shots, it’ll be just two against two.”

POP

POP

We took our eyes away from each other to watch as the earth pony opened up on the ground at the mare’s hooves. His bullets bounced off of the asphalt, and in an effort to try and dodge the shots, she tried dancing and prancing this way and that. She squeaked and squealed, thicker and stronger tears trailing down her face as she used all of the effort she could just to avoid getting her legs torn up.

“One of these days you’re gonna get me killed,” Estoc grumbled after the earth pony had fired two more shots.

While Estoc was busy slinking across the open street to the other pile of rubble, pulling the hunting rifle off of his back with his teeth, I laid myself down at the very tip of the pile and took aim. Luckily the mare hadn’t seen Estoc crossing the street, or simply didn’t have time to react being that she King Sadist was using her as target practice. Without any sights it was difficult to tell whether or not my shot was lined up on the earth pony in question, but I figured that if I aimed at his neck I’d at least hit something vital.

As I was getting ready to make my shot, I heard the mare scream out in agony. Oh shit, this is just what we needed. I took my eyes away from staring down the end of the barrel to look over at her. She had fallen onto the ground, clutching her hoof. It was difficult to see, but thin streaks of blood trickled down over her hooves and slowly started to form a small pool underneath herself.

“Get up, you fucking bitch!” the earth pony shouted at her.

To her credit, she did try to stand back up onto her hooves again, but as soon as her wounded leg felt the pressure from her own weight she flopped back down onto the floor. In that instant I’d managed to catch a glimpse of her hoof, and let me tell you, it was not pretty. I’m sure the only thing preventing a river of blood from flowing out of her leg is that the bullet was still lodged inside of her.

“You dumbass, look what you did!” the unicorn shouted at the earth pony. “Don’t aim at her damn legs, aim at the ground underneath them!”

“What the hell do you think I was doing!?”

“Aimin’ at her legs like the fucking idiot you are.”

The earth pony spun around, glaring back at the unicorn. Before he could open his mouth to argue, however, the unicorn continued, “I already know what you’re gonna say, so don’t fucking say it. You honestly think that Lucky’s gonna take her back like this? No, better for us to blast her Celestial brains out and tell him that she was shot up by a lucky-ass griffon.”

I took aim at the earth pony again, the end of my barrel pointed directly at his head. My ass you’re gonna be killing her, fucknut. Estoc had better be in position because I’ve about had it with these perverted, ugly bastards.

“What? Now?” the earth pony asked. “You don’t think I could have some more fun with her fir… Hey, who the-”

BANG

The earth pony had spotted me by now, probably seeing the tip of my barrel and my tufted ears poking up over the top of the pile of rubble, but it was too late for him. The bullet from my battle rifle tore right between his shoulder and his chest, and was enough to spin him around a full one hundred and eighty degrees before he hit the ground with a yelp. He was bleeding profusely, but was still alive. His assault rifle had flown out of his hooves and clattered onto the street out of his reach.

BOOM

Estoc fired shortly after, the bullet cleanly piercing through the side of the unicorn’s head and exploding out of the other end. It literally cut half of his skull clean off. His body toppled lifelessly to the ground without even a peep.

“Oh shit! Fuck!”

Our ambush had been enough to send the remaining two raiders into a panic. They reached for their guns as quickly as they could while running over to the cover of a collapsed telephone box. I managed to fire off another shot at one of them, but I missed and the round punctured into the concrete box instead.

“Fuck you, you necrophiliac pissmonkeys!” I shouted back at the raiders.

They’d both managed to find cover behind the telephone box, but that wasn’t enough to stop Estoc from firing off another shot. Unlike mine, his shot pierced right through the small windows of the box and hit one of the raiders on the other side. The raider howled in agony as he collapsed backwards from his rather shit piece of cover, his blood showering both the telephone box and his buddy next to him.

I heard a satisfying “fuck” emanate from over behind the telephone box, but it wasn’t enough to send the last guy hightailing it out of there. He popped his head up with a pistol in his mouth and turned to take several shots at Estoc. He was too late, however, as his bullets hit only air and rubble while Estoc already ducked behind his own cover.

Perfect time for me to come in. I pushed myself up above my own cover and took a couple of shots at the exposed raider, firing my battle rifle as fast as I could. Out of the five rounds I fired, three of them embedded themselves into the telephone box or in the sidewalk behind while the last two blasted right into the side of his head and neck. The raider’s head didn’t explode as intensely as when Estoc took a shot, but it was enough to cover the entire sidewalk in the last guy’s blood and brain guts.

This wasn’t over, though. Three raiders dead with one left bleeding out and crawling across the street towards his gun. Now that wasn’t going to do. I clambered up over the top of the pile of debris and then slid down the other side, kicking up a cloud of dust along the way, before dashing over to the gun and pushing it even further out of his reach. The raider looked up at me with a fantastic terrified expression stretched out across his face.

“Don’t even fucking try it,” I growled at him. I had one round left in this magazine, and I knew exactly how to use it.

A small whimper ripped me from my moment of triumph, and I looked up to see that the mare had backed away from me as far as the chain would allow her, and she had flattened herself against the ground while still holding her wounded hoof. She wasn’t looking at me, though, even as I stood over the raider with my battle rifle pointed at his head. Instead she looked passed me, and it wasn’t until I heard the clip-clop of Estoc’s hooves echoing off the street did I realize what she was staring at.

Estoc walked past me, hunting rifle slung over his back and a crowbar in his mouth (I’m guessing one of the dead raiders was carrying it to yank the rail spike up), and up to the mare. He stopped at the rail spike, then jammed the flat end of the crowbar until it was underneath the spike’s head and grunted.

“Wh-what are you doing?” the mare asked quietly.

“Freeing you, what does it look like?” Estoc replied dryly. He then slammed down on the other end of the crowbar and the rail spike popped out of the ground.

I looked down for a split second and saw the raider trying to crawl towards his gun again, so I lifted a hoof and pressed it down onto his festering bullet wound. He cried out, rolling onto his back and trying desperately to swat my hoof off of him, but I wouldn’t budge.

“How bad is it?” Estoc asked. I took my eyes off of the earth pony again to find Estoc removing the mare’s leg from her wound. It was still bleeding, but not quite as bad as it must have when it first started. Probably thanks again to the bullet being lodged in there.

“I… h-have supplies over in my bags,” the mare said, looking over at a bag left next to a dilapidated lamppost.

Estoc nodded, then walked over to the lamppost to grab her bag. When he returned, he plopped it down onto the ground between them both, but before he had a chance to look inside she swatted his face away and started rummaging around inside instead. She finally pulled out a full roll of clean bandage wraps, cotton balls, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. She dabbed the cotton balls with the whiskey, then pressed them against her wound with a squeaky protest before wrapping them up with the bandage.

Me, Estoc, and even the raider sat patiently in silence while she bandaged herself up. Well, relative silence since I couldn’t resist digging my hoof even deeper into the raider’s bullet wound. That got a few more pained yelps out of him.

Eventually, Estoc spied into her bag and frowned. “You don’t have any healing potions?”

The mare was in the process of cutting the bandage with her teeth when she stopped, eyes going wide. She looked as if she was taken by surprise, and in an instant her eyes shot to my wounded leg.

“O-oh… oh no! Is it her leg?” the mare asked frantically. She tore the rest of the bandage and smoothed it onto her leg. “No, I don’t have any, but I know how-”

“It was just a question,” Estoc said quickly, interrupting her. “Calm down, alright? The name’s Estoc.”

“I’m Sunny,” I added confidently.

“And I’m Tempest,” the raider said hopefully.

“She might haaaaaaaah!” The raider shrieked again when I finally dug deep enough to find my bullet in his shoulder. Not bad.

The mare cringed at the sight of the raider, eventually turning to look back at Estoc. Her large ears flopped back against the sides of her head and she bit her lip. Think we’re going to kill her still, does she?

“I’m… Bluebell,” she said. “Who bandaged up her leg?”

Obviously she meant me. I looked back at my wounded leg, again seeing the blood-soaked, frayed rag that acted as my bandage. After several hours of walking it looked to be in an even worse state, covered in a thin film of dirt that made the whole thing look disgustingly crusty.

“We didn’t have any banda-” Estoc started slowly, but he didn’t get the chance to finish as Bluebell pushed past him.

And right for me.

“Woah, woah, woah!” I squeaked, spinning myself around on top of the raider to put him in between Bluebell and myself. “Hey, what in Luna’s splotchy ass do you think you’re doing?”

She ripped my battle rifle away from me and held it behind her towards Estoc. “Keep an eye on Tempest while I tend to Sunny’s leg.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Estoc said, taking the battle rifle from her and then pointing it at the raider. He had a thin grin stretched across his face, apparently finding the whole situation amusing.

“Hey, look, I’m fine!” I protested, but she knocked me back on my flanks before I could effectively push her away. “I took some Med-X. The pain’s gone, you saw that, right?”

“Any previous history with drug abuse?” she asked, pulling the rag off of my leg. She scrunched her snout up in disgust, and for good reason. The gashes left behind by the bear trap looked discolored and left my leg looking mangled.

“I… I uh…” I trailed off. This was all too weird. First this mare was sobbing, crying, and absolutely terrified of us even though we’d saved her from those raiders. But now that she’s seen my leg? It’s like she’s suddenly taken charge. ‘Work mode,’ I guess?

She glared at me. “You’re taking Med-X while you’ve had past addictions? What are you thinking!?”

While she pulled out her bottle of whiskey, I scrunched my nose up in protest. Who does she think she is? Does she not see my leg right now?

“Do you not see my leg right now?” I said. “Estoc, this was all your idea, why don’t youohhhheeeeeep!”

She would dump a metric fuck-ton of whiskey on my leg mid-sentence, wouldn’t she? Not even Med-X could save me from alcohol stinging the shit out of my gash, although it was only short lived and in no time the only pain left in my leg was a dull throb. Still, I had to fight back some tears and bite my lower lip to keep myself from shrieking more.

“Doesn’t matter who’s idea it was, you still agreed to it,” Bluebell said, dabbing my leg with the cotton ball. “You start abusing addictive drugs again and there’s an extremely high probably that-”

“I understand how addictions work!” I interrupted, which caused Bluebell to jump in surprise. “Look, I couldn’t even stand worth shit with this leg, and Estoc couldn’t find any painkillers aside for this shit. Get it, filly?”

Bluebell squeaked and quickly nodded her head. “Y-yes! Sorry…” Estoc gave me a dirty look, but I got the message across. I had no choice! It’s not like we’re carrying a bag full of medical supplies around. Medical supplies that are lacking healing potions, for that matter.

When Bluebell finished wrapping my leg up in a proper bandage, she took a step back and uneasily rubbed the back of her head. She did a good job. Much better than what Estoc managed, but I suppose he still should get credit since he stopped the bleeding. If it wasn’t for him I would have bled out, mostly likely. When I took a tentative step on it, however, the sting from the alcohol still going at my wound sent a gentle shiver up my leg. Fuck me, I hope that wasn’t from the Med-X wearing off already.

Oh well, patched up again and we still had the last remaining raider to deal with it. I walked up next to Estoc and took the battle rifle from him, but instead of pointing it down at the sorry son-of-a-bitch, I held it out for Bluebell to take. She squeaked, merely staring at the gun like I had just furiously rubbed killing joke all over it.

“C’mon, take it,” I said, shaking the gun in her face. “Don’t you wanna kill the asshole who shot your leg yourself?”

It still took her several moments before she finally took the battle rifle from my hooves. Clearly she didn’t want to take it, holding it awkwardly in her hooves as if she was offering it back to me. I had to imitate like I was holding a gun for her to finally hold it right.

“H-hey, look, I’ve been quiet all of this time!” the raider begged, holding a hoof up. “You ain’t dead right? Nothing to worry about, sweetcheeks!”

Bluebell frowned and suddenly had a much tighter grip on the gun. She shoved the barrel up against his muzzle, actually sticking the tip into his nose. That froze the asshole right up. His frightened eyes changed to that of pure terror, suddenly not so confident anymore. It’s almost as if he thought we weren’t going to kill him. Hah! He couldn’t be more wrong.

But Bluebell never pulled the trigger. She simply stood there, glaring down at the pitiful earth pony while he continued slowly bleeding out onto the street. I couldn’t imagine what might have been running through her head, or why she was even hesitating. Before I could ask what the hell was going on, though, she pulled the barrel out of his nose and sat back onto her flanks. She looked as if she’d just taken a huge weight off of her shoulders.

“I won’t kill him,” she said quietly, holding out the battle rifle for me to take.

“Wait, hold on, what?” I asked, stupefied. “You can’t be serious, that’s a fucking raider right there!”

“I can’t do it. I don’t care if he shot me in the leg, I’m a doctor. I heal ponies. You, on the other hoof…” She waved the gun at me, almost as if she was teasing me for doing it to her earlier… “You can do it yourself, can’t you? Finish what you started instead of letting me do it.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” I said, taking the rifle and grinning.

“W-wait, hold on, let’s work this out!” the raider shouted. “Sunny, right? How about I serve you? I’ll leave Lucky’s gang and help you start your ow-”

I shoved the barrel into his mouth, effectively shutting the sniveling fucking asshole up. Was he really just begging to join up with me? Oh, I hope his snot juice taste really grody. He won’t taste them for long, though!

I pulled the trigger.

The trigger wouldn’t budge.

I tried again, still the same thing.

Jammed.

“Fucking piece of shit!” I screamed.

I yanked the battle rifle out of the raider’s mouth, but all that did was allow the lucky fuck to break into a fit of laughter. It clearly hurt judging how he was wheezing and laughing at the same time, but that didn’t offer me any comfort at all. I was just robbed of literally blowing this guy’s brains out with an oversized round at point blank range, and the guy who I was just trying to kill is laughing at me. Even Estoc and Bluebell were snickering a little bit.

Growling, I flipped the gun around and gripped the barrel in my teeth, then swung it across the raider’s stupid face. There was a satisfying crack as his head whipped to one side and his cheek slammed into the street. Got him that time. Who’s laughing now?

Not me, admittedly.

I tossed the battle rifle onto the street with a grunt, then picked up the assault rifle and slung it onto my back. I also took the raider’s bag of bullets, but to be honest I wasn’t very confident that this gun would last much longer than the other one.

Silence. Guess it wasn’t just me who wasn’t laughing anymore.

“So, you… you guys said you were looking for healing potions?” Bluebell asked finally and quietly. So quietly, in fact, that it took me a second to realize that it was her talking and not some kinda fly buzzing around my ear.

I cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, I don’t have any potions on me, but I do know how to make healing potions. Both of us need one, so I could travel with you.”

Before I had a chance to voice my own opinion, Estoc already opened his mouth and said, “Sure, why not? We could probably use someone like you.”

“Estoc!” I complained.

“You said it yourself earlier. Do you really want to keep sifting through musty, broken houses?”

I kept my mouth shut, but that didn’t stop me from scrunching my snout up at him. He’d just agreed to let this filly join us without even asking me! Granted, obviously she was good with medicine and whatnot, but still!

“That’s what I thought,” he continued with a smirk. “So, Bluebell, you’re the healing potion expert. What’re we gonna need?”

“Oh,” Bluebell squeaked, perking her ears up. “Well, we’re going to need some Med-X, something that’s made up of eighty percent ethanol at least, a broc flower, and three hours to let the potions brew.”

“Any idea where to start looking?”

“There’s a high school not too far from here, but I never looked inside because it’s filled with… ghouls. I saw a whole bunch of them roaming around the front.”

School’s full of ghouls...

“Great,” I grumbled. “More zombies.”

Footnote: Level Up

New Perk: Lack of Fucks - You gain the ability to ignore penalties to skill rolls from a chosen source.  For every rank of Lack of Fucks you take, you may use this ability three time. This perk has an unlimited number of ranks -- you can lack as many fucks as you want to spend perks on.