That song, I knew it. It had been playing in my head forever. But... Where am I?
The words echoed endlessly as I scrabbled and dug, struggling to make my way out of my erstwhile tomb. Everything hurt, and I felt like I had slept far too long, but now I was awake again. I had to find him.
Finally, my forehoof broke through the mound of rubble, and the light stung my eyes as I hauled myself free at last. My lungs were burning, trying desperately to draw in enough air. It was hard to think like my mind was wrapped in a heavy cloth. Remembering didn't feel any easier. I didn't know who I was, where I was, bits kept surfacing but they were fuzzy and hard to recall.
Looking around me, nothing seemed familiar, until at last my eyes spotted a tarnished metal plate on the wall: “Pinny Lane's Bar and Grill”. Why did that name ring a bell with me...? Oh, that's right. I worked here. In the background the now-much battered jukebox played away to itself, seeming to be stuck.
“Crawl out through the fallout, baby, to my lovin ho--Crawl out theough the fallout, baby, to my lovin ho--” The jukebox crooned that line over and over. This place was wrecked--there must have been a Zebra attack or something.
I turned, heading towards the kitchen, and there she was. Poor Pinny looked so badly hurt I wouldn't even have recognised her, if not for the battered remains of that shirt she loved so much.. Her skin practically melted, her mane a tattered mess, she turned to face me. How she was still standing was beyond me. Her face seemed empty. I knew I had to get her help, but the Zebra could still be around. Rummaging in the drawers, I grabbed the largest kitchen knife I could find, tucking it into the torn remains of my uniform.
“Just wait right here, Pinny, I'll go get some help. In the meantime, you lie down and make yourself comfortable.” I tried my best to sound reassuring, though with the nature and scale of her injuries, I was unsure anypony could help her. Pinny just stared back at me, as blankly as she had before. I closed and locked the door behind me, before heading out into a city I barely recognised anymore... Just what the Tartarus had happened here?
Clambering over the remains of the building opposite, I set course for the Manehattan general hospital, worried sick avout poor Pinny. She had worked so hard to open that restaurant, and it seemed an odd choice for a pony with a talent for bowling. But she loved that place, and it showed in the quality of the food. She was going to be devastated once she got out of hospital. But as her friend, I would be there to help her.
As I was approaching the hospital, I saw the strangest thing, a group of ponies leading a badly hurt cow. But when I started to approach them, they started to shout... Right before I felt an agonising explosion of pain in my shoulder, and finally put two and two together. Ducking for shelter behind a concrete wall, as it was hit again, and again. They were SHOOTING at me! Not wanting to be hit again, and doing my best to ignore my wound, I started taking a different route towards the hospital. I was surprised how little it hurt now, to be perfectly honest, but that was more worrying than it hurting a lot, in a strange way. I mean... Aren't bullet holes supposed to hurt?
A few hours later, I finally knew something was very wrong. My coat had always been a very light green, but now that dark was beginning to fall, my brain finally caught up with the fact that it was now glowing. Now I really had to get to the hospital. Rounding the final corner, my heart sank. The general hospital was in as bad a state as the rest of the city was, and there was only one answer as to why that could be.
The bombs must have fallen.
Feeling the anger build inside of me, I slammed my hoof into the nearest intact wall, the masonry shattering under my hooves as they went clean through. Finding no relief there, I raised my head and screamed, and screamed, and screamed. My voice came out, as tattered and worn as everything else in this world.
I screamed until my throat felt torn to shreds, then kept going, screams gradually subsiding into sobs as my voice finally gave out. The world as I knew it was gone, as my thoughts swirled... "Why the buck had we ever got into this stupid pointless war to start with, all this over worthless coal, just to keep our pampered lifestyles going a little bit longer, I was a monster now, that was why those ponies had shot at me, and for the sake of that stupid coal, and a few bruised nobles' egos the whole world had lost everything..." I had lost everything.
“Not quite everything,” a little voice in my head told me. “You made it through, monster or not. Maybe thanks to you leaving, he did too.” I wracked my brain trying to think who he was, but my mind was fuzzy. Thinking, remembering, it was hard. I felt angry when I tried, but I still needed to.
Evidently I wasn't going to get any answers at this time, my stupid brain stubbornly refusing to give me the information I needed. With a weary sigh, I made my way into what remained of the Manehattan General Hospital.
Bones crunched underhoof as I walked. Mercifully, I didn't know anypony here, at least I didn't think I did. Nosing through a filing cabinet in back, I found an old revolver and some ammunition. That would have been incredibly useful, if I even had the vaguest clue how to use a gun, but it seemed that was not a skillset I had. I spent the next five hours fiddling with the gun, and eventually after much work, a few accidental missfires, and having to spend a good two hours putting the damn thing back together, I figured out enough that it might just keep me alive.
Searching the rest of the hospital turned up a bag of old bottlecaps, which I threw away; things were going to be hard enough without taking up space with worthless junk. A few medical supplies, though it seemed I didn't need them as somehow my wound had closed itself, and a few bottles of Sparkle Cola. Just as I was about to leave, a clicking noise caught my attention. After some digging, the cause became apparent: A skeletal pony wearing a Pip-Buck.
After some debating, I realised how useful this could be, and much as I hated to admit it, the gentlestallion under my hooves wasn't likely to get much use out of it anymore. So ignoring the taste of bile in the back of my throat, I quickly snapped the thing free and fastened it to my foreleg.
The pipbuck instantly lit up and displayed a pony with green crosses over the eyes, the counter clicking incessantly , ansd a warning stated “rad poisoning fatal.” Yet somehow here I was, still alive, and I would get answers, and find him, whoever he was. Or my name wasn't...
...just a moment...
Oh, COME ON, you have GOT to be bucking with me.
Author's Note
Strength-4
Perception–4
Evasion–3
Charisma–6
Intelligence–7
Agility–2
Luck–1
Level up, skill small guns.
Credit for creating this wonderful world of FOE goes to Kkhat, thank you for being so accepting of others in your sandbox. Special thanks also to my friend Del for his help with my editing. Typing with M.S tends to mean I make waaay too much work for him ^-^ so thanks dude for the patience. You too Midnight-Star
