Fallout Equestria: Exiles

The yellow line remained dark and murky as we pressed forward, those two of us with lights keeping them on so that nopony tripped in the darkness over the train tracks. It was slow moving, with the clip clop of our hooves turning into wet splashes as the water on the ground rose, leveling out around our hooves. Some spots were wet and filled with leaking water, the putrid smell of stagnant water freed from broken pipes covering the ground with dead algae and rinsing free hundreds of years of dust and rot. everyone had brown and black hooves now, regardless of their coat colour. even during dry spots, there was not enough space to wipe our hooves clean, not that it would have mattered.

The appearance was not half as bad as the smell. As a few miles turned into a few more miles, the smell became that of ponies sweating in the dark tunnel. Grime, rot, and sweat filled my nostrils every time I tried to breathe, and if I dared to cough, I'd just end up breathing through my mouth, getting a nice taste of the rancid air. Most of us were all too aware that the ones next to us were suffering as bad as we were, and we kept our complaints to ourselves. Most of us.

"Zena!" Scarlet Mist whined from further up the group, stretching the last syllable out as long as she could. Scarlet Mist had spent her time making angry sounds at the grime, attempting to fly (and finding there was not enough room to comfortably flap her wings in the subway without angering the ponies beneath her), and whining about the situation. As much as her complaining was a nuisance, None of us truly disagreed with what she had to say.

"What?" Zena said calmly, obviously forcing herself to stay patient.

"Zena this is horrible! It smells, and I have to trot like some filthy mudpony! I haven't walked this far since I rescued Arc from those tribals. Isn't there another train we can find and ride that?"

"If you see another subway train, please, point it out." Zena said, tilting her head away from Scarlet Mist to try and head off the conversation.

I lowered my head, keeping my eyes averted from the front as I looked at some of the other ponies around me. I didn't want to get between Scarlet Mist and Zena-- I knew if I did, Scarlet Mist would expect me to take her side, even though it was impossible to argue with Zena. I found my mind wandering instead to how I'd met Scarlet Mist.I felt a shudder run down my spine as I remembered the encounters before we met, feeling the bad memories crawl to the forefront of my brain.

"Hey, If you're going to puke, puke over there." I looked up, seeing one of the dirt ponies we had saved scowling at me. I shot them a scowl back.

"Excuse me?"I said heatedly, lighting up my horn so the light flashed in their face. The dirtpony took a step back from the light, squinting their eyes but staying heated.

"You look like you're going to puke-- puke that direction." The dirtpony pointed towards Switchwire, who glanced at the dirt pony. He looked as though he wanted to have very strong words with the pony, but was holding back saying something.

I let my horn glow a little more harshly, taking a step over towards the dirt pony and letting some light from my horn shift over to my gun, making sure the pony saw the point I was trying to make. They glanced down and I saw them shuffle for their own weapon, putting their mouth on a farming scythe.

"Say something like that to me again, and you'll be puking your guts up." I spat at the pony, letting it hit them in the chest. I didn't enjoy any of this one bit-- the anger, the aggression. But I knew if I let one dirt pony that I had helped save push me around, everypony else was going to push me around and take advantage of me. I wasn't having that.

In an instant the scene changed from angry glares to a fight. I saw the scythe flash towards me. I ducked back, stumbling over another pony and Switchwire as I pulled out my gun and took aim at the earth pony. There were cries of alarm and anger around us as the earth pony dived at me, their scythe hacking into my armor and clanging off the plate. Before I as able to respond, I saw two ponies grab the earth pony, the Alicorn Scavenger and Limelight, who had pushed through several ponies from the front to intervene. I felt two ponies grab onto me, Scarlet Mist on one side and a dirt pony on the other.

I tried to shrug them loose, and felt Scarlet Mist almost fall over as I pulled free of her grasp. By this time Zena had approached, standing in on the situation with every other heavily armed pony in our caravan. I kept my distance, letting my horn's light fade as I backed off, taking a stride away from the other pony-- or at least, as much as the subway would allow me to do so.

"Bitch was gunna shoot me! Fucking bitch ass legion pony, making up lies." The dirt pony said, looking at some of the other ponies who had been part of San Palomino.

"Shut up." Zena said to the dirt pony, glancing between both myself and my attacker.Both of us stayed quiet as Zen
a apparently thought about what to do with us. After a moment, I saw a flash as Zena turned, landing a hoof square on the other pony's muzzle. There was a crack, and I saw blood running down the pony's muzzle. Not enough to break it from the sound it made, but more than enough to leave an injury. I knew this was not the end of Zena's punishments however, and unlike the unfortunate dirt pony, I ducked. The iron hoof of Zena's metal boot, covered with grime from the floor, sailed over my mane, brushing the hairs as I weaved to the side. I didn't need a cracked jaw to understand Zena's point about fighting. Zena's actions had spoken without words, and everypony kept distance from her as she turned back towards the front, once more beginning to lead the way forward.

I put some distance between myself and the dirt pony, now walking towards the back of the group. I found myself next to two bat ponies, Limelight and the other I had not been introduced to, and silent colt I pulled from the train. In front of me clobbered the mare with a broken leg. She had a mixed look on her face when we exchanged glances in the dim light, as if she wasn't sure if she could trust me or not. On one hoof, I had saved her life. But on the other, I was a potentially violent pony who dressed in half raider, half legion barding.

"Nice dodge, by the way." I looked to my left, glancing up at the bat stallion. I wasn't the best at measurements, but I swore that he was a full pony head taller than me. When I met his eyes I took a hasty step back, feeling those slitted pupils crawling over my skin.

"Uh yeah-- thanks, and, sorry." I quickly added in the last two words, trying to meet his eyes again and feeling a shiver run down my spine. I wasn't used to bat ponies, I'd only ever heard about them in some of the radio plays. They were the reclusive type, living in their dark caves with their extreme orgies and dwindling gene pools. Or at least, that's what the radio had always said.

Limelight gave a little shake of his head, passing off the sorry as we trotted on. After a few moments, he gave a little snort, glancing over at me again and saying, "So that armor is made from the ponies you've killed? How many legion did it take to make that?"

I looked down at my armor. Too many. Too many ponies died to make this. "A lot." I said quietly, glancing away from his gaze.

"Then you must know a lot about them." the other bat pony said. I glanced over at her, taking in the mare's light green features and crimson hair. I opened my mouth to affirm to her that I didn't know that much about the legion, and I was hardly an expert. But as I was doing so, I took in her clothes. Business attire, a pinstripped suit with a skirt. Not the kind of thing a pony toughing it in the wastes wore. Indeed, the mare looked like she wouldn't know how to aim a gun, much less shoot at legion.

"Yeah, I mean, maybe more than you do. I'm not sure." I told her.

She gave an eager, friendly nod-- again, something that tipped her off as a pony ignorant of the wastes. "Well, I was very much hoping you might continue your story from before. You see, I'm here to learn as much as I can about the legion and everything in the san palomino region."

I raised my brow at her slightly. That wasn't something a pony came out and just announced everyday. "Why?" I asked simply.

"White Arc, I'm afraid I can't tell you that. Government secrets." the mare smiled, showing off fangs that had been hidden under her lips. Unfortunately this made her grin more like that of a hungry predator than of a friendly pony, but she was so nonthreatening I barely felt my nerves flinch at the sight.

"Yeah uh, maybe later." I said, looking away from her for anyone else to engage me in conversation. That meant the unicorn colt.

"So, hello!" I said to him. "I don't think I know your name yet."

"No." The colt said. I felt my ears droop. Even the kids were being assholes to me now. After a short pause, the foal looked up at me, adding, "No, I didn't tell you my name. It's Switchwire."

"Ah?" I felt myself cheer up a bit. "That's an interesting name, how did you get a name like that?"

"From my parents?" The colt said hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure that was the right answer or not. I realized immediately after that it probably was a pretty silly question. Of course he'd gotten his name from his parents. A little warmth rose in my cheeks, but I continued to press the conversation, not at all eager to press on with the next leg of my story and finding myself wishing for a lengthier distraction than a conversation with a child.

"Well at least you know, I mean, I never knew myself, it was just-- my name." I let my voice falter, falling silent and continuing to avert my eyes from the bat pony walking on the other side of Limelight. But I could feel her eyes looking at me, those slitted, monstrous eyes. the eyes of a demon, taking delight in the idea of me telling the next leg of my story. the pain, the darkness the-- "Ah!"

I felt my hooves depart the ground as I misstepped on a train track, falling straight downwards and crashing into a pile of wood and debris. I groaned as Limelight and Switchwire stopped, looking down at me to see if I would get up. After a groan I pulled myself up, wiping myself off as I looked at what I had crashed into. I wished I hadn't. Suddenly the smell of rotted, half eaten something filled my mouth and nostrils, and I realized that I was looking down at some creature that had clearly been hunted. In places, it's flesh had been flayed off the bone, leaving femurs sticking out. However, the creature's skin seemed mostly intact except for long slices around the creases of limbs. Organs from the inside of the creature stretched in different directions, and I could see teeth marks where it looked like various creatures had played tug of war with the intestines.

"Oh fuck-- oh fuck, hell fucking no!" I squealed, backing up and feeling my courage break. I flashed my flashlight past the caravan, illuminating the hallway beyond. Here and there, sure enough, I was spotlighting other, similar corpses. They looked like miniature bears, resembling something close to huge moles with a lot of claws. All were in various states of decomposition, and as ponies in the caravan began to take notice, a palpable wave of fear swept over us. Murmurs of death swept over us, but a swift, echoing order from Zena dispelled the talk.

"Be quiet!" Zena ordered, talking over everypony as she glanced around at the tunnel. "Shut up, do you want to be eaten too?"

Unfortunately, while Zena might have won a few moments of silence, it didn't last. Different ponies were now turning to each other, some pulling weapons, some panicking. I instinctively grabbed Switchwire close to me and pulled out my pistol. Not that I expected to do much with a small caliber handgun, but I was sure as hell going to try.

Chaos rained on the caravan as ponies beat a hasty retreat, most trying to get away from the horror and viscera. Eventually I found my way to the front of the caravan, mostly by virtue of most ponies beating a retreat. Zena was standing next to the suit of power armor, with only Limelight and Scarlet Mist for company. I pushed forward to stand with the other ponies, pulling Switchwire underneath me. I could feel his cool breaths running over my leg, and felt his had shift up as his mane brushed the bottom of my chest.

I spared a glance down at him, noting his facial expression to be one of confusion. I found my voice, although it was barely more than a whisper when I spoke, "It's okay, I'll protect you."

"Protect me from what?" The colt asked. I stayed silent, not truly having an answer for him. I glanced at the remains ahead of us, then back at the crowd of ponies standing a couple yards away from the bodies.

"We have to walk through this." Zena said, "If you stop now, you die." I watched as Zena turned, beginning to trot along the tracks, doing her best to avoid the corpses. I patted the colt under me on the shoulder, turning and beginning to trot behind Zena. I knew what Zena had said was true. The other ponies knew it too, and after a couple seconds I heard the patter of hooves as they began to follow once more. I reached down on my PipBuck, whacking the buttons until it was recording. I gave a glance at Switchwire, and nodded to him as I fell back towards the center of the group, waiting for the bat mare to be next to me.

I wasn't sure if my story was going to help or not. But I figured maybe if I was talking and telling a story, then maybe everypony else's mind would be focused elsewhere. And at the very least, my mind would be focused elsewhere.

My whole mind was still spinning from the events of the day. Not only was I exhausted from little sleep, but my body was covered in cold sweat. The sweat only served to rub salt into the aching pain on my branded leg. To my knowledge the First Pony had never branded an exile, much less made such a scene of throwing them out.

I began trying to sort out the things that had happened as I trotted away from the walls. A chill swept past me as the cool night left me shaking. I pulled the curtain around me, feeling a small vial brush against my neck as I did so.

“Zena’s healing potion!” I squeaked, pulling it out of the folds of the curtain and holding it in my hoof. I bit the cork off with my mouth and spat it aside, chugging the potion down. I reached down to my hoof and pulled back my Stable-Tec jumpsuit pajamas, watching the wound. If this could bring a pony back from near death, surely it could treat a branding. Sure enough, I watched as the wound healed over, leaving a horrible burned that looked maybe a week old. Although skin had regrown on top, there was no replacing the fur. Burned up star tissue laid under the newly formed skin, causing the X to puff out slightly. I realized the X was there to stay, a permanent brand on my hoof, forever.

The world felt suddenly much colder. I pushed my sleeve back down to cover the wound, continuing to trot away from the City. I stopped as I reached the top of a ridge, turning and looking back at what had been my home. Searchlights lit up the towers, and I could see the dark and imposing shadow of the walls casting darkness over their surroundings. I glanced up at the moon, wondering if Luna could see the cruelty of Stable City from the heavens. I looked back down at the shadow of the walls, and then turned away to look at the wastes. My tattered curtain billowed around me, plastering against the metal armor parts I wore underneath and whipping around me rifle. I patted the curtain down as I looked at the cruel and daunting prospects lying ahead of me, a harsh life I had no choice but to face. I had to be gone, but I had no idea where I was going. I stopped to gather the few chems and matches I kept stashed away outside of the Stable City, and then continued on my way. From here I could see the ruins of Zena’s bike. An idea suddenly dawned on me in the dark night.

I thought back to the symbol I had seen on the pony in the suit. It was the same symbol that the “Phoenix Legion” wore. Maybe it didn’t mean anything, but there was a chance that maybe Zena knew something about it. I knew where Zena and Quick Shimmer were heading, and they couldn’t have gotten more than a couple hours head start on me before it was completely dark. I knew the general location of Grove, and if I kept going south, I’d eventually reach it. Looking up from the wreckage I nodded, resolved to go south and find Zena. Somehow that might make things a little better, or at least, not any worse. Besides, I didn’t have anywhere else to go or anypony else to turn to.

I continued in the dark for a little while, it was hard for me to gauge the passing of time. My hooves did not care for catching up to Zena however, and I stopped to rest them before long. My legs ached, but I willed them to gather a little bit of wood for a fire. I tried using some of my matches to get a campfire going, but the fire simply would not take. I resolved instead to curl up into a ball, sleeping beside my crude and useless campfire. This didn’t matter, as I was not able to find any rest. I was used to sleeping in a bed my whole life, and sleeping on the ground was completely uncomfortable. This discomfort proved to be a blessing in disguise, because not long after I had laid down, I heard them.

“You sure there’s something out here, Nighteye?” It was a raspy voice, with not enough energy in the pony to properly form speech.

“Yes, I fucking did. Now shut the up, you’ll spook them, haha. We wouldn’t want to scare the poor bastard, not yet, ha!” This voice was excited with a hungry tint to it’s words, not unlike a little filly right before supper.

It took me a moment to realize what was happening, and then I felt like I had crashed into a brick wall. Those ponies were talking about me. I hurriedly unslung my rifle from my back, attaching it to my hoof at the middle and lower bend. It would be impossible to move and fire with it, but I didn’t intend on moving and making a bunch of noise. I pushed myself back against a concrete overhang, keeping the moonlight above me hidden by an old concrete road. It served to keep me reasonably well hidden, with the shadows of the night doing most of the work.

I saw the other ponies before they saw me. Even in the dark of the night, I could make out the armor they wore. They were dressed like the ponies that had been burning on the fire the day before. Now that I saw them alive, with their mangled forms of flesh hanging off their bones and mad smiles on their faces, I felt a little bad for the Phoenix legion that Zena had slain. These ponies looked like animals, no, they were animals in pony form, and maybe the legion had been doing these ponies and the world a favor by killing them.

Directly after this thought I remember the Zebra mare, and the ponies they had in chains. No, the legion was just as bad as these ponies, in their own way. I raised my rifle, readily lining up the iron on top with where I hoped one of my enemies was. All of these ponies were savages, and if I didn’t shoot, they would shoot me. I didn’t know what they had planned, and I didn’t intend to find out.

Squeezing on the trigger with my hoof, I let out a gasp as the gun kicked back in my hoof. Kickback with Zena’s gun had not jolted through my body when I had used telekinesis, and this was a new feeling to me. Zena had such control over her weapons that she had not seemed to move when she fired them. A single shot from this rifle left my leg shaking, and now I was going to have to recock it and re aim it.

I looked down the barrel of the gun at where my bullet had flown. My shot had been true, embedding in the chest of Nighteye’s companion. Although he had a bloody wound in his chest, he was working his way off the ground. I hurriedly recocked the gun and fired in his direction, seeing a spray of black-red blood fly into the night as my bullet struck him. This time he collapsed and did not get back up.

Part of me stopped for that moment. I had just killed my first pony. I was a murderer just like the rest of the savages in the wasteland now. I tore my mind back to what was happening, fear pushing me to remember that there was still another Raider.

“Come out you stupid bitch, I’m goin’ kill you for that!” Nighteye was screaming into the night, running in my direction like a wild animal looking for me. He was closing fast, and I didn’t think I’d have time to fire off enough bullets to kill him. I ducked out of cover, stopping only to fire more shots at the savage. He chased me, my bullets either missing or not causing enough damage to slow him down when they hit. My rifle was out of bullets now, and the pony was still advancing on me. I turned around, looking for the Raider as I hastily attempted to reload my rifle. My mind was filled with a flurry of emotions. Although fear overpowered anything else, I was also in shock. Nothing in the wasteland was foreign to me, I’d heard the stories of it, but I was shocked at how easy it was for me to fire a gun and take a life, soon to be lives.

I shoved a new magazine into my gun and pointed it, aiming it for the Raider. He had drawn a rifle as well, a short single shot pipe rifle. I was a faster shot, lucky for me, and I watched as gore splattered the street behind him. Nighteye went down, falling dead on the ruined prewar road.

I breathed a few heavy breaths,collapsing onto a rock and holding myself up with it’s support. I had never been so brutal, and I had never murdered before. This was an entirely new feeling I wasn’t sure how to process. My hooves were trembling and my whole body felt like goo that could collapse at any time. I looked at the dead Raider, wondering if I should do anything with him.

He probably has food. You’re cold, scared, and hungry. Maybe he has something to help? I realized that I had not eaten all day. There was a little voice in my head now telling me to survive, and I stepped forward, checking Nighteye to see if he had any possessions. He was an unremarkable earth pony with a bullet lodged somewhere deadly, his blank eyes staring forward. His things were in a loose sack attached to his back, and inside was some junk food and ammo that did not match my gun. I slunk away with the food, leaving the ammo and beginning to devour it. I wasn’t hungry anymore, but I felt dirty inside. Looting a corpse seemed wrong, even if it was just survival. Zena’s bike had been different-- there hadn’t been a body that time.

I stood up as I finished devouring the food, painting a mental picture of myself for memories sake. Here I was, standing alone in the middle of the night with two carcasses making mounds on the ground. I considered burying the dead bodies, but knew I had no reasonable way to dig a grave. I started towards the second pony, intending to check him for supplies before moving on. It felt wrong, but I had to survive. I had killed savages, and I assured myself since they were savages and not ponies, this made it okay. It was difficult mental gymnastics, but I had to rationalize things out here, or I’d lose my rationality altogether.

I turned back in the direction I was travelling, away from Nighteye and towards the south. I only had time to let out a gasp before pain flooded my world. The world spun as some club struck the side of my head, the sound of a crack echoing in my ears as I landed on my side. I struggled to stay conscious as I looked around, pointing my rifle in whatever direction I was looking. My vision swam towards the first Raider, which I had assumed to be dead. He was standing up now and had a few metal bars tied together with cloth in his mouth. On the end of this was what looked like a large piece of concrete. He let out a wild scream through the object held in his mouth, swinging it in an arc to crash it down on my ribcage. I rolled to the side, watching the concrete smash into the street. I continued rolling and scrambling around, avoiding two more manic strike from the pony. I finally pulled myself up, shakily backing out of range of the club. I could see the Raider’s yellow, glinting teeth in the moonlight. His twisted smile that held his weapon accented his blood red eyes. He let out a psychotic laugh as he began to advance, my legs slowly carrying me backwards.

I didn’t know how many more bullets this pony was going to be able to take, and I was hoping I didn’t have to find out. I fired off a shot at him, scrambling to run away. I reached a ledge and threw myself onto it, hanging on before dropping down. The Raider followed me, my bullet having either not phased him or missed. He jumped over me, one off his hind legs letting out a loud crack as he landed on the ground and planted himself firmly there. Even if he might have just fractured one of his legs, I wasn’t getting the feeling that this was going to stop him. He didn’t even seem to be aware of the pain he should surely be in.

I backed up against the ledge, holding up my gun and aiming. If I had been fearful before, it was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. The fact that I had felt remorse at any point for thinking I had killed this pony disgusted me. I had my back against the wall and was looking at a demon. I could understand now how Zena killed so freely. Somepony had to shove these things into hell’s door. I lined up my aim for a headshot as Zena had done. As I took the shot I wondered how differently things might be going if I had stayed with Zena and shimmer, if they had wanted me around.

Click.

I stared meekly at my gun, then back up at the Raider, who was cackling so hard I thought he might drop his weapon. I had forgotten to recock my gun, and until I did my gun may as well be a club.

I let out a frightened gasp as the Raider rushed me. I ducked quickly, hearing the concrete club take out a section of concrete wall behind me. Before he could ready himself for another swing, I unslung my gun and swung the barrel end into my mouth. I ducked to the side of the raider and swung at his weak leg. A sickening crunch from the middle of his leg preceded a howl of pain from the raider, almost falling over as his leg gave out. I recocked my gun and took aim as he writhed in pain, going once more for a shot to the head. The bullet found its’ mark in the side of the raider’s skull. He dropped, a splatter of blood coating the ground under him.

I had to fight very hard to not throw up the junk food I had just eaten as I turned away in disgust. Killing was different when I was the one doing it. I tried to put this out of my head as I looted the raider, taking a patchwork saddlebag off of him. He had two canisters hooked up to a plunger, all of which were held together with duct tape. He had no food on him, nor anything else that struck me as valuable. I simply took the unknown chem and put it into my saddlebag.

I knew chems were used to help wastelanders survive in the savage world, and I figured it might do the same for me. I turned away from the bodies once more, leaving them to rot while I continued down the street. Although I very much wanted to rest, There was no way I was sleeping near dead bodies. Luckily not too far down the road was the remains of some old town. It came into view as I went over a hill, and I could see some houses that looked like they were still slightly intact. Since that might mean a proper bed and a place to hide, with some luck I could barricade myself in a room and stay there until I was rested.

I made my way into the town, making my way into the first intact building I could find. Although intact meant that it had most of its walls and a roof, not really that it wasn't a complete wreck. I slid down a hallway and pushed myself through a doorway, looking around. The room had a ruined bed in it, but the mattress looked relatively clean compared to trying to sleep in the dirt. The room also had a dresser next to a window and a series of foal toys on the ground. I pushed the dresser towards the door and leaned it against the doorframe. Anypony trying to do more than look through a crack in the ruined door. I'd be woken up if anypony tried to break in. However, there wasn't much I could do about the window. I tried checking around the room for some way to block it, but there was nothing helpful. I resolved to just lay on the bed, reloading my gun so that I had six rounds.

Sleep evaded me. I had barely settled down to truly rest when I heard movement around me, it sounded like it was from outside the house. Shortly after I heard it, I could make out artificial lights. Whoever was looking around had at least two flashlights. I could see some shadows from one of the ponies shining it behind their fellows as they checked the house. They were talking among themselves in rough tongues that were hard to understand, and they didn't sound the least bit friendly. I saw the flashlights separate, and was able to make out five sets of hooves looking around.

“Nighteye, that you?” One of the rough tongued ponies asked the darkness. I pulled on my gun, making sure that it was ready and aiming it at the window. I wasn’t sure where they were coming from, but at least there was a dresser between us. I took aim, waiting for the flashlight to draw nearer. I hoped that they simply would not find me, but if they did I was going to have to shoot my way out.

The first pony came not from outside looking in the window, but from the door. Somepony was pressing against it, trying to open it. When that failed, I heard them tackle it, nudging the dresser forward and giving them a crack in the door to look through. I saw the unicorn light up their horn and flash it around the room.It was a different glow than flashlights, a magical on, instead of mechanical. He too had yellowed teeth holding a short shafted farming hoe in his mouth. I turned and aimed my gun right at the lower side of the light. I was not about to let him have any chance at using his crude weapon.

The sound of the gunshot bounced around the room, giving my already aching head a fresh tinge of pain. Colours swam together with lines of the room for a moment, allowing me to see a distortion of the pony falling over dead, the hoe in his mouth laying in the room with me. I suddenly wished I had saved the healing potion from earlier so that I could use it now. As I blinked the world back into focus, I saw the bleeding remains of the Raider hanging on the dresser, his brains covering the floor of the hallway behind him. I magically levitated his weapon to me, keeping my gun at the ready. The rest of the raiders were sure to have heard that, and now at least if I ran out of bullets, I still had a weapon. The sounds of the raiders getting closer to me from the hallway and outside were rattling around inside my brain as I moved to recock my rifle. However, the rifle refused to move back into place, pushing a bullet into the barrel for firing. I jerked on it a few times, but it was stuck. The sound of the ponies outside my room were getting louder, and my gun would not work.

Shit. I knew I couldn’t use the gun now and there were at least four Raiders surrounding me. My mind wandered down to the hoe next to my hoof. I was starting to realize that this was how I was going to die, with a piece of farming equipment all alone in the wastes.

Part of me wanted to cry, but another part, the part that was going to stay alive out here, told me to fight. My mind drifted to my saddlebag, and I magically pulled out the drug I had stolen from the Raider with Nighteye. If wasteland drugs could give you an edge to survive, then it was worth the chance. I was willing to take a field test with the drug, since I was probably dead anyway. Holding out my leg and finding a vein, I shoved the needle into my leg and pushed the plunger down. It hurt, feeling a giant needle under my skin as I pumped strange liquids together into my bloodstream.

At first, I felt panic spike in my heart as nothing happened. I felt just as I had before, but now the Raiders were almost at the door. I blinked, picking up the hoe as the feeling in my heart changed. I felt a horrible chest pain, like a stabbing heart attack. Pins assaulted both sides of my chest, pressing down on my body and causing my heart to jump. Every muscle in my body was releasing and tensing up in spasms, getting ready for a fight. All the pain in my body from the day was gone. I felt clear and strong. I could take a hundred bullets while I ripped my enemies to shreds.

“Now I can, ugh, Ah, argh!” I fell off the bed, gripping my chest and holding the hoe magically aloft. The rush was overpowering, everything clearing up and any potential of pain numbing. I looked up and could see my enemies outside, carefully approaching the door. I didn’t know where the Raider at the window was, but I didn’t care. He’d die too in due time. I was going to murder those ponies. Killing them seemed like the best idea I had all day. I shoved the hoe into my mouth and squeezed out of the crack in the door, jumping into the hallway to face the raiders.

As soon as the three Raiders saw me jump out they opened fire, laughing gleefully at what they perceived as fresh slaughter. I charged at them, half using my magic, half using my mouth to swing the hoe. I could feel bullets hitting me, but many only hurt, not causing me any actual harm. Zena’s armor, random as it seemed to have been, was proving useful. She was looking out for me even without being around.

My hoe found it’s mark on the first Raider as I barreled into them, my hoe going for their necks. This first Raider, who had a sawed off shotgun, did not even get his first shot off before I was tearing him to bits. I grabbed his weapon and turned it on his comrades, magically strapping it to my hoof and firing both barrels. I fell onto my back from the force of the shots, leaving carcass of the dead Raider between me and his allies. Blood was strewn everywhere, and i had opened up his ribcage by crushing the bones into his organs. He might have even still been alive, but it wouldn’t be for long. I turned my attention to the other two, one of whom was succumbing to a shotgun blast right through their chest as they bled to death, and a third, mostly unharmed, raider. They raised a simple one-shot pipe rifle, ready to shoot me again. Like a caged animal, my instinct was to bite. I launched forward, jumping like a dog and biting at the pony’s neck as I slammed my hoe into his shoulder, hoping to knock away the gun. The Raider did not get off a shot and soon we were in a brawl, rather than some sort of gunfight.

“Bring it!” I screamed in his face. The Raider obliged, smashing one of her forehooves into my side. A string of barbed wire shoved into my hide, cutting into my flesh and leaving a streak of blood running down part of my Stable-Tec Pajamas. I felt red pain run through me, blurring my vision red and causing the outlines of my world go grow fuzzy. The hoe dropped from my grip, and I let out a scream as I wrapped both of my hooves around the mare’s head. The only thought in my head was to hurt her as much as I could. I began using my hooves to bash the back of her skull into the concrete floor. I kicked and bit in between shashing her brains onto the floor, leaving the sound of breaking bones and the squish of mutilated flesh to fill the hallway.

It was only after I had sufficiently beaten her to a bloody pulp and she had stopped breathing that I realized I was screaming. It was a psychotic scream, one echoing my thrills. It felt good to survive and to kill. The need was part of my blood. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that now it might ever go away-- but that thought quickly faded away. There was still more fighting to be done.

Even though the Raiders were no longer breathing, I gave them all several good kicks before preparing myself for the Raider that I had heard moving outside, before I had gone into the hallway. He was probably still around somewhere, and I intended to kill him before he killed me. I collected 4 shells for the sawed off shotgun, strapping that to myself and picking up the hoe I had been using earlier. I began walking down the hallway, towards the exit of the home. There were flashlights outside pointed at the door. This gave me an awkward feeling inside. It meant there was more than one pony let to kill, and that was good. It also meant that they might be able to overpower and kill me. I slunk back into my room, grabbing my jammed gun and put it on my back. It wasn’t much good to me jammed, but maybe it made a good club if I got in trouble.

Rather than meet the Raiders head on, I snuck out the window that I had been keeping an eye on earlier. It was a tight fit, but I managed to get through without any obvious pain. Once outside, I peeked around the wall to look at the Raiders holding the flashlights. There were five of them, three with flashlights, all of them pointing at the door. As far as I could tell they had not seen me yet. No part of me wanted to sneak away though, even if that was probably the smart choice. The drugs in my blood were now in full swing, and I wanted to go out there and smash the raiders into bloody pulps. I reloaded the shotgun and took a deep breath.

Swinging around the corner, I quickly sprinted up to the first pony holding a flashlight. The last thing they felt was a barrel of a gun going against the back of their head, and then the sound of a blast. Blood splattered the ground and my fur. I grabbed their flashlight, which was attached to a single shot pipe rifle, and aimed it at the other ponies with flashlights. This had the fortunate, if unintended, effect of momentarily blinding them. I magically fired off the shot, but it soared over the heads of the ponies-- After all, I had their flashlights in my eyes too. I dropped the pipe rifle, sprinting over to the next pony, who had a crude knife in his mouth. My hoe impaled the side of his neck, and I pushed him onto the ground as he began to scream at the blood squirting out of his body.

As I sprinted to the next pony, I felt bullets rip into my body. Blood ran down my Stable pajamas, coating it with rich crimson. It was soon joined by the blood of another Raider, as I fired a shell into his left eye. Brain matter coated his friend, who let out a scream of panic as I reloaded my sawed off shotgun. These Raiders had single shot pipe rifles, and this shotgun looked to be the deadliest gun among all of them. Their outfits suggested they were experts of melee and unarmed combat, preferring to beat their victims to death. That was something I could respect. I pulled my gun out and clobbered the other flashlight pony in the head, knocking him onto the ground. Raising my shotgun, I used it to end the other Raider, who was coming up from behind with a deadly looking club. He screamed in agony, and by his continued cries I knew he wasn’t dead. I dropped my shotgun, grabbing my club with magic and beginning to use it to bash both Raiders to death. I took my time, screaming at them as I broke every bone I could find in their body.

The stronger of the two-- the Raider who had not been hit with a shotgun, tried to run away from me. I tackled him, putting the shotgun into his cutie mark and pulling the trigger. Bone, blood, and skin splattered against my belly as his blew almost clean off, only some red tendrils and flesh substance keeping it roughly in place. The Raider squirmed as he screamed in agony, shock starting to sweep over his body.
“No escape, shitbrains!” I turned by shotgun and bashed him in the head. Dropping my jammed rifle, I retrieved my hoe from the pool of blood next to the now dead Raider. Now that their bones were broken or cracked, I was going to… hurt them more, somehow. I was going to cut them up and brutalize them as they would have done to me, and had no doubt done to other ponies. I briefly saw the images of mangled pony corpses, of the dead zebra mare, of her lying near dead in a pool of her own blood and guts, of her innocent blood splattering against my face. The Raider tried to squirm and run, but I was faster than a barely conscious raider. I began hacking at their limbs as they struggled and screamed, leaving them a bleeding, screaming, pleading messes on the pavement.

“No! Please! I don’t want to die!” One of the Raiders said at me, terror on his face as he looked at his mutilated body. I knew that he could already accept that nothing would save him, he would die of blood loss if I didn’t finish the job. I buried the shaft of the hoe into one of his leg wounds, turning it around inside so it dug into the muscle. The Raider screamed, his voice cracking. I pulled the hoe out and hacked at his chest several times, cutting it clean open and exposing the white, tan, and red coloured organs. A brown liver was split in half as I cleaved it with the hoe, laughing like a maniac as I enjoyed his suffering. When he stopped screaming and breathing, I turned to look for the other living Raider.

He was not difficult to find. I followed a blood trail to another nearby house. He had left his friend to be butched by me, apparently hoping he could get away. There would be no such luck. I walked through the open door and saw he had his hoof on a box of medical supplies, and was struggling to get it open. With a few brutal hacks from the hoe, I removed his hoof, drenching the floor and box in blood. I raised my hoe, holding it there only long enough to see the fear in the Raiders eyes before I began hacking at him, slicing open all of his chest cavities. When he no longer moved, I threw the hoe at his head, making a meaty clunk as steel impacted skull.

I had done it now. The pain of mt wounds felt dull and unimportant, but a part of me knew that I did not want an infection. I grabbed the box of medical supplies that was coated with blood, and then turned away from the corpse. I found a bedroom that looked like it had been a small filly’s room long ago. I pulled off my bullet ridden armor that Zena had given me and started looking over my wounds. There were a couple healing potions in the medical box, as well as various painkillers. I tried to apply them as best I could while binding my wounds with medical cloth and surgical tape. Although this was by no means all of the supplies in the box, I felt like I would waste them if I tried to use them-- and I had a bit of a suspicion I had squandered the painkillers by using more than I needed.

Once I was sure the bleeding had stopped, I pulled my jammed rifle close and tried to sleep. The drugs were still in full thunder, keeping my mind tunnel visioned on one thing at a time. I knew I was tired and I knew I had killed everything near me. With a sigh I let my eyelids close, hoping they would open again. No rest came to me though. I sat there feeling every muscle spasm at the slightest sound.

As my eyes opened, the light of day felt blurry and scary at first. I pulled myself over the side of the bed and immediately puked out the liquid in my stomach, cleaning it out. I felt weaker, and the pain from my wounds were screaming. I told myself that i could survive them, but I’d feel better with a doctor looking at them. As my vision cleared and I looked outside, to the Raiders I had battled the night before, I felt a scream rise in my throat-- My wounds were nothing compared to their mangled bodies.

My mind started to think about my foggy memories of the night before. In hindsight it was like I had become something evil, bent only on aggression and madness. My hooves carried me past the dead body that had been trying to use the medical supplies and onto the street where I had done battle with most of the Raiders in the dark. Flies were buzzing above their bloodied corpses, and I fought back my urge to scream at the savagery I was seeing.

Logically I knew that I had done this. I had slain all these ponies and decorated the town with their blood and bits of bone and organ forcibly separated from their bodies. I could not accept that it had truly been me though, no, something else had been inside me. Something horrible and evil came to life from that chemical cocktail I had injected into me. The dissociation was both frightening and comforting; while my body had no doubt committed the crimes, the blood was on the drugs, not me. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself as I set to picking through the bodies and exploring the Raider Camp. I did my best to not look at the most eviscerated of the Raiders, those who had limbs shown off by the hoe or had their thoracic cavity scraped clean. A few of the raiders looked like a dog had been gnawing on them, and I could see places where scavenger birds had pecked and ripped out their fill.

I managed to not puke again, not that I had anything left to throw up, and started poking around the houses for anything of use. On the second floor of the house (Which was little more than crumbling walls and the floor) I had originally taken shelter in before the fighting started, I found what looked like a small supply stash. Nothing more than some ammunition for weapons I did not have and a few guns that looked like they were more likely to shoot me then shoot out the barrel if I tried them. From up here I could see the real camp, which was a bit further into the town and surrounded by metal fences. The raiders had claimed three of the least destroyed houses and hidden themselves away in this residential area. I could see mangled corpses of ponies they had preyed upon before me decorating their wall. Somehow the rotting bodies below me didn’t seem as horrible when I saw the decaying sculptures that made up Raider art. My eyes looked back at my handiwork below me. Most of the Raiders were in about as many pieces as their art, and I had arguably added to their collection, with one Raider having impaled himself on a picket fence after he had suffered a shotgun blast to the back of his head. I sighed, starting towards the deserted Raider camp with the hope of supplies.

The inside of the place was more grisly than the outside. Large mutated gnats the side of my hoof flew away as I approached, most of them concerned with gnawing off rotting pieces of flesh on the sculptures. I picked up a plank of wood off the ground, magically holding it up and ready to strike in case they came near. The bugs looked to be fearful of me, but I was not going to trust their creepy looking mandibles or loud buzzing noises.

As I picked through the supplies of the Raiders-- a modest amount of ammo, a few grenades, and plentiful drugs I did not know the name of-- I started to think about Stable City walls. I was once more behind a wall, and it made me feel more safe, even if it was a Raider camp filled with bugs, drugs, and bullets. I had heard about how different things were out here, but now I was just like those other savages. I had taken sick pleasure in killing ponies, even if they were violent psychos. I loved the rush the drug had given me, and I wanted to use it more. I hated myself for feeling this way, but I wanted to kill. I wanted to kill because it kept me alive, because maybe it gave some justice to the unrecognizable rotting corpses of the Raider’s victims. Most of all though, I wanted to kill because it felt good.

I stopped through a bathroom as I was finishing my looting, turning on the sink and smiling as water came out. Maybe I could have a little drink, and wash my face. I leaned down and drank straight from the faucet, and then splashed some of the dirty water over my face. Flecks of pony matter and blood ran out of my coat, cleaning the red off my hooves and face.

I filled my saddlebags with as much as I could reasonably carry, checking around until I found what looked like some innocent pony’s satchel bag. It had some water in it but all the packaged food had been devoured by something, probably the raiders. I kept the water inside and slung the satchel over my back. Although I didn't have an appetite now, I knew I would later, and just had to hope I found a place to scavenge food. Once I was clear of the Raider camp I let my thoughts organize themselves. My only hope was that I’d have food and get to kill more. I was a looter and a killer. I felt the scream that had been building up inside of me let loose, a horrible sound of fear and anger. I was just like those monsters that got put down in the old stories and history books.

...However, I was alive. Those Raiders had been animals just like me, and they were dead and I was not. It was easier to rationalize what I had done when I thought of my enemies as animals. I knew things had to stay this way. I was going to keep killing savages in this wasteland, and I was going to stay alive.

I took full stock of my loot as I traced the path southward, working on unjamming my rifle. I had ten bullets for the rifle now, and it was not my only weapon. A brace of grenades sat next to a small pistol that lacked any obvious hammer on it. I had found it in near perfect condition with a small metal box of ammo to go with it, so it would have been foolish to just leave it. I had some metal raider armor strapped on to me now, giving me good cover if I was shot at. I had fetched the sawed off shotgun on my way out, as while I had no ammo for it, I might find more and it could serve as a decent club in the meantime.

As the day wore on, I found myself stopping to rest and drinking water every hour or so. It was almost overcast, so the sun was not beating down upon me, but this did not make me feel any better. Instead the clouds cast a gloom over the wasteland, creating shadows that existed in places they normally would not, and causing me always feel as though I wasn't alone. After a few hours, I almost sighed when I heard the sound of gunfire being exchanged nearby. I hid myself in a nearby building, a burned out restaurant that had almost no stools or booths left in it. I snuck through the back, looking out through a hole that looked like It used to house the smokestack for a stove. Both the stove and the smokestack were missing now.

Outside of the hole, I could see the firefight happening. A couple raiders were shooting at a group of poorly armed, poorly dressed ponies. Two were laying dead on the ground, bleeding out of their chests as they heaved their last breaths. One of them had a foal crying and trying to tell her daddy not to die. One of the Raiders Picked the foal up, putting a gun to her head and grinning at her.

"Let. Her GO!" I screamed in fury, pulling out my rifle and savaging throwing it into the side of the Raider's skull. the filly, gun, and Raider all dropped, and my levitation magic found the gun as I raised it and took aim at the other Raider, who was currently ripping out the throat of the other pony still left trying to fight for their already lost life. I squeezed the trigger and fired all the bullets the semi automatic pistol had, letting them rip into the Raider's body and watching as he fell backwards with a loud cry, grasping as the bleeding holes in his chest. I turned to the other Raider, who was standing up now. Before either of us could act however, another gunshot rang out, this time from overhead. I reeled in alarm to look at the roof of a nearby office building, staring at three ponies standing behind some cover.

"Hang on there, hang on! We're friendly!" One of the ponies, a gruff, older stallion, cried out. I raised my club of a gun as I felt something grab onto my hind leg. Looking down, I saw the filly I had just saved cowering under me, still staring at her no longer moving father. Her wet tears were rolling into my thigh and running down my leg, adding to the grime coating my body. I shook my attention away from her, refocusing on the new ponies that I was unsure if I could trust or not. At least they had something to say that wasn't about murder, but I wasn't particularly feeling prone to trusting other wasteland assholes after finding nothing but Raiders thus far.

"How do I know you won't try and kill me?" I asked, looking at them as they lowered their weapons.

"If we were going to do that, we'd have put a bullet in your pretty head too." A younger stallion replied to me. He was handsome, even with grime coating most of his body. He had the rough, on edge look that commanded authority, despite his youth.

"We saw what you did there. charging in like that. You didn't have to get involved, why did you?" The older stallion asked, sliding down some ruined concrete to draw closer. I lowered my club, nodding to his gun.

"It was the right thing to do. Why'd you get involved?" I asked. The stallion gave me a friendly smile, something that instantly made my day seem a little brighter, even if something seemed utterly wrong with him. I couldn't shake this feeling, but he seemed to be too... gentle, despite being dressed in heavy combat armor. He looked like a soldier, not a well meaning wastelander.

"Well, the same reason you did. No one protects these roads anymore, so we make it our job to try and help as many refugees as we can. They tend to pass through here on their way north to the NCR, and they call us the Bloodhoof Angels. We operate out of Bloodhoof Bar, not far from here." I kept a wary eye on the ponies, then turned my attention back to the filly that was hanging onto my leg. I was not about to trust her with ponies I barely knew, but I couldn't exactly take her with me all the way to Grove attached to my leg like this.

"and it's a safe place, Bloodhoof Bar? Could you take us there?" I asked, nodding to the filly attached to my rear leg. The older stallion gave me a nod and a smile, gesturing down the street.

"We'll lead the way. My name's Bones by the way. Old military callsign." He gave a gruff cough, beginning to lead the way, the younget stallion keeping an eye on the other streets as if he expect an ambush at any moment. The young mare stayed behind, pulling out a shovel. I glanced at the bodies, then up at the mare.

"Well, are you gunna stare or you gunna go with them?" She said, leaning on the shovel and looking at the bodies. I bit my lip and nodded to her, turning away and looking at the filly still holding onto my leg. I didn't want to think about the task ahead for the young mare-- just that it was nice that there was some decency out here in the wasteland.

"Here, Get on my back." I said, laying down so that the filly could climb up onto me. I saw her look at her dad, who was still pooling out blood, and she burst into fresh tears. carefully levitating her, I sat her on my back and pulled myself up, beginning to trot after the small band in front of us. I had no idea what I could say to her. I didn't have any memory of my parents, and my brother had never really talked about them either. I wasn't sure what I could say to her, so I just kept my mouth shut.

The Bloodhoof bar was behind some fortified walls, and it was positioned with some ruined buildings around it. A large neon sign in red letters showed off "Bloodhoof" with faded lettering on a sign below it reading in painted red letters "Bar, Restaurant, and Wine Superstore." the Bloodhoof building itself was a large building that looked like a Large Shoppe, Warehouse, and bar all combined into one. I followed the ponies inside the front door,s which were completely missing the glass that had once filled the holes. The inside had fortifcations built around the welcoming desk, and the rest of the building was inaccessible from the looks of things without leaving through the front. I starred up at the building as I went through it, looking at the walls and ramparts running around it. Even though it was nowhere near as pretty or safe as Stable City, it did have a certain feeling of security. All life seemed to avoid the area except for the ponies that resided there, almost like the place was cursed.

I felt a shiver go over me as I trotted past the welcome desk, entering into a large warehouse. Shelves and shelves of what I assumed had formerly held liqour were now used as walls, and had constructed homes inside of the warehouse. The warehouse itself has some holes in the ceiling, and I could see places where the inner paneling had fallen through. Despite the disrepair, the place still felt safer than being outdoors. Safer, but more claustrophobic. Lights guttered outside of the homes, each of the five spread out to different cornsers of the warehouse, with two smaller ones next door to each other near the front. Bones stopped at one of them, gesturing at the open area.

"This is our home. We've each got homes, but most of us have a spare room or two. You two can stay with the Buttercups, they're the far house over there." I looked at the largest structure inside the warehouse, which was at the far other end, nodding to Bones.

"Thank you, but really, I'm sort of in a hurry to catch up with some-- ponies, I know." I decided to omit Zena's race and profession, deciding that it was probably best to not bring up I was searching for a Desert Ranger I was on first name basis with. You could never be absolutely sure who loved or hated them. "I'd love to stay and Goddesses know I could really use a safe place to relax for a bit, but..." I trailed off, sniffing the air. I turned and looked around, taking in a deep breath and suddenly feeling very hungry.

"Is that-- vegetable stew?" I asked, turning back to Bones. He gave me a grin.

"It aught to be ready in an hour or two if you wait! Take a load off, relax for a bit. You're safe here. And as for meeting up with these other ponies? Maybe we can work something out." Bones turned to the younger stallion, giving a nod as his side. I took a startled step back as the pony, who I now noticed was a pegasus, unfurled his wings, showing off pretty grey feathers spanning several feet to either side of his body.

"We have a sky chariot we use to haul back game or big supplies we can't normally haul. Betchu we can work out a deal to give you a ride." Bones gave me one of those old timer smiles, and I instantly felt my heart soar. The idea of not trotting all the way to Grove and getting a good meal with new friends? It was good to know that after the hell I'd been through, finally, things were going good. Better than good, I found my brain telling me they were going great.

"Oh, thank you so much!" I said, smiling at Bones. I felt my smile fade as I felt the filly shift on my back. I turned to look at her and found her limply hanging onto me, passed out against my neck and still crying slightly in her sleep.

"Go get her in a bed, she needs proper rest." Bones said, gesturing at the filly. "Let the Buttercups know I sent you, and I told them to treat you like one of our own, and take very good care of this gal." I gave a confident nod to Bones, circling around and carefully walking towards the Buttercup's residence, trying to not wake the filly as I did so.

The Buttercup's residence was half made of wood and half made of concrete. A smaller concrete room existed within the main residence as I walked inside, but the rest of the building, If I could really call it that, was made up of a small parlor for relaxing and a kitchen where cooking was done. a set of stairs assembled from broken apart shelves lead upstairs to where I assumed bedrooms were. I focused my attention away from the stairs however, turning around a corner as I followed my nose right to the pot of slowly cooking veggies that hung over a small cooking fire that was in a concrete lined hole. I also found myself face to face with a young couple, who stared at me and then gave me smiles.

"Hello!" The mare, who I assumed was Mrs. Buttercup, said. "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yes, actually." I said, nodding at the Filly on my back and making a hushing sound. "Don't want to wake her."

"Ah, of course, of course." Mrs. Buttercup said, lowering her voice as her husband stirred the pot.

"Bones sent me. He told me to have you treat me like one of your own, and to take very good care of the filly." I nodded to the filly on my back.

"Ah yes, we can certainly do that!" Mrs. Buttercup said, her smile growing a bit warmer, and oddly, just a slight bit unsettling. I found myself looking at her teeth and found them to be slightly sharp in unlikely places. I realized now that I noticed the same with with Bones' teeth when he had smiled at me, But I hadn't been able to really notice anything was too different. Now that I was closer, I could see it. It made me feel weird, looking at the teeth. They looked unfit for a pony's mouth, and yet, not altogether foreign, either. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind, making a mental note of it as Mrs. Buttercap passed me and headed for the stairs, ascending them upwards. I followed along as well, being careful to take the stairs slowly so that the filly on my back did not fall off. Once I was at the top I saw two doors.

"First one is ours, and second is the guest room. You two will be sharing a bed, I hope that's alright?" The mare asked. I gave her a nod, pretty sure the slightly malnourished wasteland filly couldn't take up too much bedspace. I trotted forward, looking down at the concrete floor that formed the roof of the concrete room below. the room I was in was slanted, half concrete and half wooden, with a bed resting on the concrete side. The floor had been layered with aluminum and wooden boards, forming a reasonably nice floor for what it was. The room did however lack any decorations, and the bed itself was a simple old mattress with an even older pillow. I gave a sigh and slowly rolled the filly off my back and onto the bed, climbing up onto the bed myself after she was there.

I grappled for the pillow, hugging it to me as I watched the filly blink her eyes and look over at me. She was coated in blood from her father, but I really didn't see much that I could for for her right now about washing it off. I tried to give her a smile, but it came out more like a pained grimace.

"You saved me." She whispered softly. I gave her a nod, reaching out and holding her hoof.

"Yeah. Don't worry, okay? I'm not going to hurt you, or let anypony else hurt you for that matter." I said, squeezing on her leg gently. Despite the situation, I saw her smile, and I realized in that moment that I knew about something else good that I loved out here in the wasteland. I liked making good ponies smile. I liked protecting almost as much as I liked-- No, No I wasn't ready to compare those two things yet. Maybe I never would be. I didn't want to start thinking like that.

"Who are you?" The filly asked me, reaching in and laying against my hoof to use it as a pillow.

I tried smiling again, this time, more convincing as I looked down at her. "My name is White Arc. I'm a--" I realized any title I had in Stable City was gone, other than exile. And it wasn't like it would mean anything to anypony else, anyway. "I'm just another pony, like you."

"Mh. You're uh, pretty." She said, fumbling for words before tucking herself against me.I felt an honest, fully warm smile come across my face as I ruffled her mane, realizing as I did so that right under this small chat we were having was a very traumatized filly. In that respect, we really weren't that different. And yet somehow, we found comfort in being traumatized together."

"And you need a bath. We can see if they have someplace to shower before we eat, okay?" I said, still petting the filly and finding myself holding her close, like a parent would a scared foal. I knew she wasn't my foal, of course, but it still felt almost natural for me. I let myself relax for a bit, laying against the pillow and letting the fill lounge against me was we both sat there and let the minutes go by. We both smelled of blood and death, and the mattress under us smelled the same. If it hadn't before, then it certainly did now. I found myself looking down at the scar on my hoof, and then glanced at the filly, who was looking at it too.

"Who hurt you there?" she asked, carefully running her hoof over the scar. I realized I had no feeling in that part of my leg-- all the nerves in it must have been burned to death by the branding iron. The mere thought of that made me shiver, and I felt resentment and hate building inside of me, But I wasn't totally sure who or where to direct it.

"I don't want to talk about it."I said, ruffling the filly's mane. "Do you want to see about getting that blood off of you? I'm sure they have a shower or bath here somewhere. The filly gave me a nod, and we both stood up, trotting for the stairs and heading down them. I gave a sniff when i entered the parlor, my head jerking towards the kitchen again. Whatever I was smelling was absolutely delicious, and I'd never smelled anything like it in Stable City-- which while it was not always the best tasting, was usually made of quality ingredients and even seasoning.

"It's just your normal stew, dear." Mrs. Buttercup said, smiling. "You know, it aught to be ready in a little bit. If you two want to wash up, we have a bath in the mare's restroom.Out here on your right, back of the bar.

"Thanks so much, that's perfect." I said, looking down at the filly and myself. We both trotted from the home, taking a right and heading through a set of double steel doors that led into the bar and restaurant proper. Although the restaurant itself had a kitchen, most of the appliances looked like they had been broken for many years and stripped for parts. Turning my eyes from the kitchen, I left myself through a swinging door and into the dining room. Many booths of different colours lined the walls here, and although nothing really matched, everything looked to be in good condition. I turned from the booths and tables, heading through another door marked for mares, the filly following close behind me.

The bathroom was hardly that impressive. Somepony had removed the sink and put a bathtub over it, which created what I figured was going to be a cold shower. A dirty toilet sat at eye level with the top of the tub, years of horrifying bacteria growing out of it and staring menacingly at the comparatively pristine tub. I shrugged, stripping my clothes and barding off and starting the water. i figured it might be a good time to wash those off too, while we were all in the business of getting blood of ourselves. I began using the water to wash my own fur, shivering at the cold touch, and then using the water to wash my clothes and barding. Although normal clothes might have been permanently stained and ruined, Stable-Tec clothes were perfectly capable of repelling most any matter that came into contact with them. That made them kind of grating to wear on the skin if you weren't used to it, but I had gotten over that when i was much younger.

The filly next to me had lowered herself into the bath, and was now slowly washing the blood off herself. I averted my eyes as I watched the red flow down the drain, still unsure what I could possibly say to her. I contemplating telling her it would be okay, but I knew that was a lie. I finally decided maybe I should just try and talk to her the way she had talked to me. There was an easy way to start that.

"So, what's your name?" I asked her.

"Slice Stitch." She said, turning slightly and showing me a cutie mark of a needle and thread stitching a wound together. I watched as she rubbed cold water over it, removing the red blood that soaked her thigh.

"Ah, uh, well," It was a name, I found myself thinking. The solemn nod from Slice told me she was of the same mind. We continued the rest of our bath in silence, not that it was much of a bath compared to what I was used to. It consisted mostly of washing my face and my mane by splashing water through it. It was hardly enough to get most of my body clean, but at least I looked more presentable than I had. There wasn't blood covering either of us, and a lot of the grime trapped in my coat washed out. I found myself realizing that unless things were made right, this was what I had to look forward to. Cold baths that barely cleaned me at all, and washing the blood of raiders and the grime of the wasteland. I found myself longing to find Zena, and to make her make things right. In the back of my head I could feel a gnawing in my brain that maybe this was all just a hopeless chase, but I pushed that out of my head. Thinking like that was just going to make me lose my mind. I had to hang on to what little hope I had.

Once both of us were clean, and that term had a very new meaning to me now, I trotted back to the warehouse with Slice at my side. Apparently we were just in time, because I could see a large gathering at the center of the warehouse. The pot of stew I had been seeing cooked was apparently ready, and bowls of the stuff had been passed out to several ponies already. The small community consisted of two couples, the younger stallion, Bones, and another older stallion who wore a dusty business suit. Slice and I trotted over, standing at the edge of a circle of comfortable armchairs and picnic benches that had obviously been lifted from some nearby park.

"Just in time!" Mrs. Buttercup said, looking at both of us as she poured some of the stew into more bowls. I approached first, looking down at the steaming concoction. Thin slices of steak floated around with freshly cut mutated veggies and fruits. I could make out chunks of eggplant, carrot and wild mutafruit. I felt saliva run into my mouth as I looked down at it, realizing I couldn't remember the last real meal I had. It seemed like it had been in another lifetime now, just as the night before-- which was still fresh in my mind-- had seemed like an eternity.

"Thank you very much." I said, levitating two bowls up and gesturing with my hoof for Slice to come sit with me. We occupied the end of a picnic bench, next to the pegasus stallion from earlier.

"You cleaned up nice." he said, taking perhaps a little too long to look me over. It was an uncomfortable feeling, knowing that some stallion's eyes were crawling over you. Uncomfortable, a little bit flattering, but mostly just weird.

"Uhm, thank you." I said shortly, turning to Slice who was now eagerly drinking up her stew. I looked down at mine and lifted it up, beginning to drink. The broth was tasty for what it was, which seemed like it was mostly water and grease from the meat, mixed with whatever juice came out of the fruit. I found it more than suitable eating though.

"So, What's your name, where are you from?" The stallion turned to me now, finished with his stew and still keeping his eyes on my body, rather than my face.

"White Arc. Stable City." I said shortly.

"Oh, Stable City? Are you a citizen there or?" He asked.

I kept my mouth shut, sipping on my stew and waiting for him to change the topic. He gave a little frown, but nodded, continuing after a few moments of silence, "Ah, I see. Well, my name's Breeze. Fair Breeze that is. You know, if things are too cramped over at the Buttercups, I have space in my home." I watched him gesture with his wing towards his building, which was definitely the most decrepit of all the homes. Empty liqour bottles were laying strewn outside next to a ruined couch that looked well used.

"I think we'll be alright. Thanks for the offer." I said, taking that moment to drain my soup and empty the leftover contents into my mouth. I ground it up and quickly started swallowing, eager to get done with eating and get away from Fair Breeze. I knew that the wasteland lacked any knowledge of the word manners, but I would have thought some mare would have put Breeze in his place at some point. I certainly didn't want to be that mare though, especially not after the kindness that the Bloodhoofs had shown me. I stood up from the table, turning around and seeing Bones standing nearby. I trotted over to him, distancing myself from the perverted stares.

"Looks like Fair Breeze likes ya." Bones said gruffly, pulling out a little tin and popping some sticky, chewy looking black plant into his mouth, which he then began to graze on.

"Yeah." I said uncomfortably, setting aside my bowl on an endtable before brushing the back of my mane. "I was wondering if you could tell me about that deal earlier, to let me ride in the sky chariot."

Bones' ear perked up and I saw him nod towards Fair Breeze. "Sure, Fair Breeze can give you a ride. If you help us out here for a bit. We got some patrollin' to do. So I figure if you take his second patrol and take a twilight patrol, he can give you a ride tomorrow. It's not but a day to Grove n' back."

I thought about that for a second, then turned to my pack, levitating out my rifle and the sawed off that had been sitting there uselessly. "If you can give me some ammo for these, I'll go on patrol with you." Bones scartched his chin a bit, dust falling out of his gruff beard before he nodded.

"Yeah, I think we can afford you a couple shells bullets. You can stock up a'fore we go out." Bones motioned towards his building, where I now saw there was a pile of metal boxes.

"Thanks. When's the patrol?" I asked.

"As soon as we all finish eatin'." Bones said. I glanced at my empty bowl, then picked up my hooves ,starting towards the ammo boxes. I opened up the first one I came to and looked over all the various casings, trying to match bullets from the box with those that went in my rifle. I salvaged a good seven, enough for an extra clip, before I looked at the sawed off, which I had been putting off looking for ammo for. I realized that even if there was ammo for it in this box-- which given the plentiful different types of ammo, there probably was-- I wasn't entirely sure what to put in it. I knew shotguns took shells, but were all the shells the same? I found myself levitating up several different sized shells, all of which looked the same-- a brassy, shiny colour at the bottom, with red running down the top. shrugging, I pocketed two shells, taking two other ones and sliding them into the shotgun. they weren't quite as snug as I thought they'd be, but I figured maybe that was just how shotguns worked. It wasn't like I'd ever had to fire one before.

With my weapons all checked and loaded, I trotted back to the circle of ponies chowing down, standing between Bones and Slice. I looked down at her, watching her sit there and stare off into space, apparently thinking and seeing nothing. I waved my hoof in front of her eyes and saw her blink, looking up at me.

"Hey, I'm going to have to go out on a patrol with these ponies, okay?" I said, gesturing towards Bones. "After that, I'm going to stay the night here and leave in the morning."

Slice gave a nod, showing she understood, but I was still concerned about her. Something seemed displaced in her, like the wasteland had snapped something inside her. I gave a sigh, ruffling her mane as tenderly as I could.

"I want you to come with me. Would you like that?" I asked. Slice Stitch gave a much more vigorous nod, and that made me smile. I thought I'd almost forgotten how to feel good until I saw her reaction, but now I knew the feeling again. Knowing I was looking out for somepony, making their life better, It made me feel good.

As I sat there waiting on the other ponies, I found my mind wandering again. I wondered if this was how the heroes in those old stories felt. Protecting each other, and protecting good ponies of the Wasteland. It made you feel alive. Then I wondered if all heroes really felt that way. Zena hadn't seemed to feel anything at all when saving ponies. Or when she was doing anything else for that matter.

Just as I began wondering about my own plan, and about my goal of heading to Grove, I felt somepony rub my shoulder. I jerked myself out of my headspace of self doubt, looking up to see Fair Breeze giving me a more than friendly grin.

"Hey, thanks for taking my patrols tonight." He said. I tried to give him a friendly smile back, but I don't think it worked. I stood up, looking to Bones and giving him a nod before I started for the door. I realized that I really didn't want to wait here, because waiting here meant I was around Fair Breeze, and I did not feel comfortable there. In fact I was starting to feel uncomfortable with the idea of accepting a ride from him. Not that I felt that he was going to do anything to me, other than perhaps make the trip unbearable. Or perhaps steal a glance at my flank and crash into the ground mid flight. Both seemed more than possible, unfortunately.

Patrolling, I found, was not something that I enjoyed doing. Patrolling, at least, as the Bloodhoofs considered it, meant walking in non-linear circles around the area that they called home. It was a bleak living, as far as I could tell. Every patrol started with three ponies trotting around and inspecting every bleak, ruined building around them. All of the townhouses and little strip malls had long since been looted of anything but scrap, and the old roads were crumbling and falling apart. Some of the most interesting stuff was bus stop advertisements. Some were advertising new passion fruit Sparkle-Cola, while others were recruitment posters asking ponies to join the fight against the striped menace. Everything was faded out and covered with a fine layer of dust.

I found myself bored out of my mind by the time nightfall approached. I was hot and sweaty, and although the buildings had offered me precious shade, it had not been enough to keep me cool. I wanted nothing more than a nice, cool bath followed by a big, warm meal. My hooves nearly collapsed under me once I saw the familiar front of the Bloodhoof Angel's fortifications, and I trotted forward eagerly, sitting down once I was inside and letting out a huge sigh. Bones and a townspony followed in behind me, discussing something I couldn't hear. I stood up shakily, trotting towards Bones and hoping that we were done.

"Bones-- can I go, you know, lay down? My hooves hurt." I tried to not complain, but I heard the whine rise up in my voice. Fortunately Bones was a mostly good natured pony, and mt me with a chuckle.

"You absolutely can, and after you rest up for a bit, you come down here for dinner, a'ight?" Bones gave me a smile, which I happily returned as I headed for my room above the Buttercup's kitchen. I stepped inside and flopped down on the bed, feeling my aching hooves thank me as they vibrated with dull thuds against my barding.

I rolled over in my bed, facing the wall and finding myself trapped in my own thoughts again. A million things were going through my head, and I didn't know how to begin to sort out the questions I had. Why had I gone out and met Zena in the first place? I knew why I had done that. It was to get a break from my life. And yet now, more than anything, all I wanted was that life back. Yet I knew that it was not going to come back. Even if I found Zena and she could magically fix everything, my life was never going to be what it was before. I knew being wistful didn't accomplish anything, and yet, I was not sure what else I could do.

Well, I did know of two things I could do. The first one was to keep on pressing ahead, it was to find Zena and start making things right. Maybe I couldn't fix them entirely, and maybe I didn't even want to, even if I felt like I did. And while I was doing that, the other thing I could do was start trying to fix my little part of the world around me. I could protect myself from raiders well enough, and maybe I could even protect other ponies too. Ponies like Slice Stitch.

I sat up, blinking around and feeling my hooves cry in pain. Where the hell was that filly, anyway? I hadn't seen her on my way in, and she wasn't here. After a few moments, I shrugged and laid back down. She couldn't have gone far, and besides, I wasn't sure of a safer place for a filly than an armed compound. With my mind reassured by itself, I closed my eyes and let myself wander into sleep.

My sleep was restless at best. My dreams, which had long been only the strange, disorganized time between falling asleep and waking up, had taken on a life of their own now. Although it wasn't something I wanted to think about, I kept feeling my mind rush back to the needle that was inside my saddlebags. I kept pulling it out and sticking it into my leg, stabbing at my body just to feel this aggressive, powerful rush. It made me feel dirty, but it also made me feel alive. I kept seeing myself waking up vividly, and searching for the vein in my leg before injecting myself, pushing an endless amount of the substance through my blood. I knew that I had to get more. I knew that as soon as I got up, I wanted to take more of these things I knew as chems. These things that had been forbidden from me for so long. And I wanted a lot of them. Not so that I felt pleasure from them or because I liked doing chems, but because they made me powerful. When I was on enough of a chemical, I was no longer White Arc, filly that was taken hostage and then later arrested from Stable City. No, now I was White Arc, savior of the wasteland. There was no raider I couldn't kill, no force I could not stop. No battle I couldn't win.

When my sleep faded, I almost did reach over to my saddlebags, before I stumbled onto the floor and realized truly, I was no longer dreaming. I rubbed my forehead, reaching for my saddlebags and opening them up to discover that the syringe was indeed still there, the tubes of precious chems still wired up to it. I thought fora moment about shoving it all in, but then I realized that was probably a waste. I might need it later. But I wanted it now. Just a little bit now, and I'd save the rest of it for later. Pulling out the chems, I hurriedly applied pressure to my left leg, looking for a vein to pop up. As soon as I saw one, I shoved the needle down for it, applying pressure as it slid in and a little blood welled out. That didn't matter. In fact, that was good. It meant I was getting what I needed into my bloodstream. I began slowly applying pressure to the plunger, being careful to only use about half of what was inside it before I pulled it out, hurriedly dabbing at the wound with some cloth from the bed as I replaced the syringe in my saddlebags. The bleeding didn't take but a couple dabs to stop, and by the time I had my saddlebags on I could feel a warmth rushing over my body. I felt I could smash open any door, and nopony could or would stop me. I let myself into the hallway, stomping forward and steadily heading down the stairs as I felt a light bounciness come over my body.

Despite the oxymoron, It felt empowering to be slightly out of control of my body. It felt empowering because I knew I was capable of so much more now. I looked around the Buttercup;s residence, checking for Stitch Slice and scratching my head. I was sure I hadn't been asleep for more than a couple hours (although admittedly, it was hard to tell when I was inside and it had been dark out when I fell asleep and woken up). I tried one of the downstairs doors and found it to be open, with a set of stairs leading further into the compound. I let myself in, figuring that if I didn't find Stitch Slice down here, then maybe I'd find one of the Buttercups and they might know where she had gotten off to.

I felt myself stop, my voice dying as I looked forward into the darkness of the tunnel, scanning the broken rocks and aged tracks. I wasn't sure how to continue with my story without horrifying the ponies around me, so I decided to let myself grow quiet. for awhile everypony was silent, and I saw a few look at me, as if surely, I would continue. but I couldn't find the words. I was thankful that before any of them could challenge me to continue, I heard call for a halt. Everypony ground to a stop, and I looked around, carefully stepping forward and scanning the gloom further. the tunnel was opening up into a series of platforms, some kind of station. old skeletons covered the ground here and there, some animals, some definitely pony.

Zena pulled herself up onto the platform, scanning around and beckoning for the rest of us to join her. Several of us began climbing of the tracks and onto the concrete station, a few of our caravan stopping to help those who couldn't pull themselves up.

"We scavenge for supplies here." Zena said. "After that we fortify and find a place to rest. Arc, Limelight, scavenge over there. Scarlet, and you, bat pony, with me." Zena gestured to the bat pony from the NCR, who quickly trotted over to join her and Scarlet Mist. I glanced at the direction Zena had pointed me towards, and focused my light on it as I stepped forward. This subterranean station looked like it had been abandoned for a long time, but that did little to ease nerves. I knew as well as anypony else that even the most pedestrian of places sometimes housed older horrors than rabid animals or raiders.to a small kiosk, starting to poke around. Switchwire stayed by my side, using the light of my PipBuck so he could help me look through things. There wasn't much to scavenge, but my eyes were soon drawn away from the scavenging. Limelight was not far from me, and I saw an outcropping of wood snag on his clothes, revealing some glowing on his leg.

"Limelight, right?" I asked the bat stallion. He gave me a quiet, questioning look. I glanced outside of the kiosk to make sure that everypony else was busy before reaching forward and pulling on his clothes, tugging down cloth tied around his leg. Sure enough, I saw what I was expecting. A device that looked much to be in much better repair, yet, very similar to the one on my right leg.

"You have a PipBuck too?" I asked, feeling my voice raise a little excitedly. I had not yet met a pony and actually had a chance to talk with them that also possessed a PipBuck, so this was a sudden and unexpected opportunity for me. Unfortunately, Limelight pulled the cloth on his leg down, using his sharp teeth to pull it tight before returning to opening drawers and boxes. I felt my face droop as I waited for him to reply, a few edged seconds ticking by before he replied to me.

"Yeah. Everypony from my Stable did. Most got purposed by the NCR. I got to keep mine." I felt a frown come over my face.

"Re-purposed?" I asked.

"Yes." He said quietly, pulling open a desk and taking out a couple bobby pins from inside. "Part of the deal when the NCR annexes someplace, everything becomes state property. you might as well be a fucking slave. I got lucky."

I felt my brow furrow. I wasn't any fan of the NCR, but that didn't sound anything like the NCR I was familiar with. "Aren't you a scout for the NCR? Like-- you must have seen a lot of places. I'm sure it was a misunderstanding."

Limelight gave me a sharp look, then turned away, picking up a screwdriver and beginning to go at a locked drawer with the bobby pins. "It's the same story everywhere you go. The lucky ponies with skills or a trade, they do alright. Everyone else becomes poor, and works for them."

I was about to retort when Switchwire spoke up, addressing Limelight directly. His voice was smooth and rich, even for being such a young colt. "Perhaps the NCR and the Legion are not so different. The 'worthy' become citizens, and the rest, are enslaved?"

"Fuck no. You're not a slave, just poor." Limelight retorted. "At least in the NCR they don't work you to death. You don't get raped every night. You don't have a collar around your neck reminding you you're property, just some other pony's tool. You have dignity, even if you have nothing else."

"Dignity isn't worth much when you starve to death. Slaves are housed, clothed, and fed in the legion." Switchwire said, glancing at me and giving Limelight almost, a glare. neither of them continued their conversation, so I decided to pique in, attempting to change the topic.

"So Limelight, you got your PipBuck from a stable! Which one?" I asked.

"One Three Six." Limelight let out a grunt as one of his pins snapped. I trotted over to him and lit my horn, lifting the screwdriver out of his hoof and taking he remaining bobby pins away from him. he looked up at me with half a bobby pin stuck between his teeth, lookingly only slightly irritated.

"Let me give it a try. You're not a unicorn, lockpicking doesn't seem like your strong suit." I said, setting myself to the lock. Limelight spat out the bobby pin, turning and moving to emptying other parts of the kiosk.For a moment we were silent, but after a few tries with the lock, I felt it click and spring open. I pulled open the desk, sighing as I pulled out some old cloth. I turned and showed it to limelight, who shrugged. I tucked away the cloth, moving over to Limelight and helping him check boxes for anything useful.

I felt his eyes move over to me, and I looked up to see him looking down at my leg. "So, what about you? Your PipBuck? You said you were from Stable City but you didn't mention having one in your stories." Limelight asked. I glanced at my PipBuck, then looked behind me, glancing outside of the kiosk and looking over at Scarlet Mist, who was digging through some debris with Zena. I pointed to Scarlet Mist.

"I got it from her. Kind of." I said.

"Kind of?" Limelight asked.

"She hasn't even finished her last story." Switchwire said quietly. I glanced over at him, seeing him sitting patiently on top of a metal crate. I felt Limelight's eyes run over my figure before he looked at Switchwire, both objects gaining his curiosity.

"Excuse me?" Limelight asked quietly, popping open a crate and pulling out a glowing soda bottle.

"She trailed off in her last story and didn't finish it. I want to hear the end of that story before you ask her for another one." Switchwire's voice was matter of fact, and young as he was, there was something so empty in the way he spoke. He sounded like a small needy child who enjoyed their story time greatly and had very basic, precious desires. Yet just past this, there did not seem to be anything. I didn't feel any mystery from the colt when it came to how cold he was though-- something inside of him wasn't right, something in the world had made him how he was, and even if I didn't know the extent of the damage, his voice couldn't hide it. Before I knew what I was doing, I'd moved across the kiosk, and wrapped him in a hug. I looked at Limelight, letting out a sigh.

"I suppose it is another story. and I promise, we'll finish the other one, Switchwire. Later." I smiled, clearing my throat as I felt Switchwire let out a sharp huff of unhappiness, and his head lulled against my leg as he pouted. In truth I didn't like breaking up stories either, but I wasn't yet sure how to find the words to continue explaining my last one. I couldn't think of a vile enough way to describe what I'd encountered. I was about to start on telling the story when I saw movement in the corner of my eye.

"Find anything good yet?" the high pitched sing song voice of Scarlet Mist chimed over all of us. Her mood had obviously recovered, and she hoisted herself onto the counter of the kiosk, eating some bagged chips as she watched the rest of us at least pretend to be working. I held up some loose cloth and bits of metal with my magic at her, watching as Scarlet tilted her head back and began emptying the crumbs into her mouth. She gave a few resounding crunches as she gazed down at my meager salvage.

"You just gotta believe in luck, and luck will give you good things. Like that ugly PipBuck! I mean-- ugly, but useful!" Scarlet Mist added her last sentence quickly, trying to throw in a smile. "Anyway, why don't you tell that story? It's a story about what a good friend I am, so obviously I'm a fan of it."

I glanced at Switchwire, who was looking away from Scarlet Mist with a bit of a disgusted look on his face. Limelight's face was a picture of confusion, glancing at Scarlet as he continued to work and obviously wondered why she was disturbing our task.

"Sure, yeah." I said hesitantly, clearing my throat once more as I began again.