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Chapter 2: The Junkyard

“Kid….”

“Five more minutes…”

I groaned, too caught up in my dream world. Dreaming about when I actually arrive to Las Pegasus. The bright lights, the motherload of caps just waiting to be earned by that lucky somepony, and, the mare’s. The pretty mare’s just waiting for a ‘fun time’ and with all the caps I earn they’ll be fighting over me…

“Kid, wake up…”

Everypony cheering my name, the richest pony out in the wasteland.
Maybe I could even buy my own penthouse!

“Kid! Wake the hell up!”

A sharp whirring sound cuts through my dream world, reflexes kicking in as I return to the real world. I awoke to the sight of the mechanic, holding that wretched saw blade close to my face.

I breathed a long sigh, not even noticing I was holding a nearby wrench with my magic. Which shortly after I sent clattering to the floor beside me.
I lifted my goggles onto my forehead and rubbed my eyes profusely.

“Have a nice nap?”

He commented, guessing he’s smiling amused at my current state.
I sit up before standing on all four hooves. The garage was much more tidy now from yesterday with the mechanic slotting in a new sharp metal saw blade into his robotic hoof.

“Fuck off….”

I grumbled lowering my goggles back over my eyes. He was already packed for the trip. Carrying some food, water an important asset out in the desert in a saddlebag slung over his side.

“Do you have a firearm other than the sawblade on your hoof?”
I asked curiously, pointing to his metal hoof with a sharp metal saw blade attached to it.

“I only use this baby, always have, always will.”
Was his response his mouth curved to more of a annoyed look.
Most likely from all the questions.

I checked my own sawed off shotgun, having only seven shells left in my jacket pocket. It was time to set out shortly after getting ready, trotting out the front of the garage. It was difficult just leaving my vehicle abandoned.
But he reassured me, saying that nopony ever attempted to break in.

Yet

I breathed the fresh (or as fresh as it gets) wasteland air. Behind me the garage door clanked shut. The mechanic pony trots beside where I stood onlooking the old highway.

“Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The asphalt scorched our hooves as we walked across the destroyed highway. It’s seen better days with the bridge mostly collapsed due to how old and rusted it was. As we walked an old rectangular green sign hung from metal beams above us. The words painted over with white reading;
“The Junkyard” along with some other crude words.

After a quick glance at my temporary companion who seemed to just ignore the sign of crude words and continued on, I had to almost had to gallop to catch up when I realized I was falling behind.
On and on, across the highway It was quiet, nothing except for the silent clip clop of our hooves and the howling of the wind.

“When we get to the Junkyard what exactly are we looking for?”
I asked, looking up at him. He just groaned his annoyment growing each question.

“For the engine we need some small cylinders at least four of them. Along with some scrap metal and some screws.”
He explained, not even looking back.

“Ok...seems easy, just some cylinders, scrap metal and screws.”
Looking on the bright side that it wasn’t too major that we needed, I even made a mental checklist.

“Yeah...easy. If you call fighting off rats is fun to you kid.”
I stopped, going over his words in my head.
‘Great, more fighting. Why can’t we travel without getting into a fight..’
I thought, continuing to walk behind the mechanic pony.

Until I immediately bumped into his flank. I looked around his flank and up at a brown metal gate nestled next to sun baked rocks.
Old carcasses of cars lay in the sand just ready to be picked apart some with there hoods already open.
He pushed open the gate, making a high pitched squeak.

Behind the gate stored mountain’s of metal and more cars, it was like two colts in a candy store at that point.

I swiftly ran in staring in awe at the large bundles of twisted metal. It was a gold mine I might be able to make some caps off of all this.
The mechanic pony was looking over an old automobile soon after walking in. While I stuffed more metal into a saddlebag. I explored a bit afterwards, besides all the cars there were another junk scattered around old signs, a badly rusted robot head.

‘Okay, this is going to be fun’
The almost silent sound of rats skittering about caught my attention.
One actually staring me straight in the face.

“We don’t have all day, so get to work kid”
The saw-blade hoofed mechanic part reminded, and part ordered me. I soon got to work, opening the hoods of broken down cars and looking for compatible cylinders.

The skittling and scampering sounds of the rats that are slowly getting louder, like something disturbed them. It’s almost like the rats are….running away? Like something or somepony disturbed them.
I shook my head ridding the thoughts from my mind and got back to work. The engine I was staring at had no functional cylinders.

I sighed, slamming the hood close then moved on to a rusted truck that was missing its two back wheels. Checking under the hood revealed two cylinders just sitting there the others have been scavenged already.
My horn glowed white as the cylinders levitated out of the engine and into my leather saddlebag.

More skittering sounded behind me, I turned around just in time to see several rats scamper underneath the car across the one I just searched.

“Hey do you think something’s off?”
I called over to my ‘companion’.

He looked up from sawing off the engine from inside another car.
“What you mean? All the rats beginning to scare you?” He chuckled.

“No, it’s something else; it’s like we’re being watched….”

“Stop it kid, you’re just paranoid it’s just rats that live here now. Unless your afraid of tiny rodents.”

“I’m not!” I whined, stomping a hoof on the sandy ground.

“Seems like it.” He stated, resuming work on cutting out the engine. The loud whirring starting up.

“Maybe your the paranoid one…the pony that lives inside a dark, damp garage all his life!” I shouted, not even realizing my voice increasing in volume.

That did it. The mechanic’s saw abruptly stopped before he stood up. He was silent looking down at the floor.

“Kid….stop it. I’m warning you.” His voice was low, dangerous like he’s ready to strike.

“Just admit it! Your the crazy one, isolated in that garage for goddess knows how many years!” I continued, right now I was setting off every mine in the minefield.

He turned the black visor of the mask stared at me. I could see my own upset expression in the visor.
“Kid, I said stop it!”

Now he was shouting. Trotting over and towering over me. I looked up at him while he looked down at me.

“Or what?! Your going to give up on our deal and kill me? Then dump my body in a pit somewhere? Or sell my body to cannibals?”
I was somehow really confident when talking, but my hooves were shaking.

His ear flicked, trotting closer as I backed away. I don’t want to know what he was thinking or what his expression was right now. Before I knew what happened I felt his hooves grab my jacket, lift me up, and slam my back into the rocky wall...hard. The wind was knocked out of me from the impact.
The mechanic stared at me face to face.

“Listen to me kid and listen good. I never wanted to help you, I never wanted to help anypony. I just wanted to live my miserable life in a old garage and die peacefully. But no, you had to come along and ask for help. I regret it but you know why I helped you?”
He asked in the middle of his rant in which my response was to shake my head no.

He opened his mouth to answer my question….

“Yes ‘Flesh Grinder’ Kill him!”
Another voice echoed through The Junkyard. We both turned our heads towards the voice to see a dark orange looking pony. He looked about the same height as me. A helmet on top of his head has metal plates sticking out of it like feathers.
He stood on the roof of a flatbed truck.

He was joined by other ponies dressed in metal armor covered in spikes. Wielding makeshift spears, axes and many other sharp weapons.

The mechanic pony dropped me to the ground and turned to face the group of ponies.

“Well...I never thought I’d see you again Rust. Long time no see.”
He trots closer to where “Rust” stood.

“Well ‘Flesh Grinder’ you have quite the number of caps on your head.”
He smiled a sinister smile, adjusting his gloves with metal shards protruding out of it.

I’m guessing that ‘Flesh Grinder’ was either his real name or just a nickname the group gave him. But when I heard about the bounty on his head I immediately perked up to hear more.

“A bounty? How much?”

I spoke up, making the mechanic immediately turn his head in my direction.

“It’s nothing! Don’t listen to him, we’re leaving anyways.”

He turned and started to walk off. I grabbed my saddlebag and followed him.
Behind us we heard stomping on the metal roof almost sounding like a drum.
Before I realized;

It was a signal.

Before I could mention it the mechanic had already stopped at a wall of ponies.
We were cornered, the group closing in to trap us in. I already knew this wasn’t going to end well….

“Tonight we celebrate our new arrivals!” He yelled
Tomorrow, we’re going to be richer than we ever where..”

The supposed leader muttered the last part as the rest of his group led their new arrivals to their camp…