Trudge Runners

by ROBCakeran53

Rating: teen
Tags: Spintires Series, Adventure, Crossover, Violence, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Human, Applejack, Drama, Original Character
Length: 37543

Applejack wakes up in the forest, finds another creature called a human, and learns that the only way to escape this prison is to collect lumber.

Applejack wakes up in the forest, finds another creature called a human, and learns that the only way to escape this prison is to collect lumber.

Sounds easy, right?

Oh, how wrong they are. For out here, nothing is easy, everything takes longer than it should, most of the wildlife wants to kill and/or eat you, and there's no such thing as clean.

Mud, Misery, and Mayhem are the names of the game. Now, will they choose to play, or give up?

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NO KNOWLEDGE OF THE GAME IS REQUIRED!

So, if you're unaware, this is a spinnoff/crossover of a older game called Spintires, which some years ago got a remake called Mud Runner, which then got a sequel called Snow Runner. I've played and beat the first two, and I'm currently about 40 hours into the third. While this story is heavily focused on the dynamics of the first two games, I will also be borrowing some elements of the third (for our characters sake) and be implementing a few other things not in these games, such as more survival tactics of being in the woods.

Also, currently no pre-readers or editors, and while this story isn't meant to be something perfect, if this genera, story, or even the game are your thing and you'd like to help out, feel free to message me and you can be part of this!

Published 2022-07-28 18:40:04 UTC
Last updated 2024-03-31 01:30:54 UTC

2: Its a lot Bigger on the Inside

Author's Note

Hello, so first thing's first, I'd just like to say that this story will be updating every Thursday, until I run out of buffer chapters, then updates will be as they go. Why Thursday? Because screw algorithms I do what I want.

Another fun bit, between last Thursday and today I managed to finally finish the Michigan section of Snow Runner, and let me tell ya, I think I had to have had at least 60 hours into just that part considering I'd started it back in January.

Chapters are also on the shorter side for this fic (so far), between 2k and 4k, but for these updates and writing times I think it will work out. We both will only worry when I put out a massive length chapter, cause that means the update after will probably take a while. Just how I am for some unexplainable reason.

2: Its a lot Bigger on the Inside

It was quiet between the two, as Applejack’s breathing had calmed and she sat there, watching the bipedal figure continue to gawk.

He was very simply dressed, a loose fitting white T shirt, and a pair of jogging shorts, both covered in splatterings of mud.

“You alright there, partner?” Applejack asked, tilting her head.

He blinked, then slapped his face. Seeming to be still shocked the mare was still there, he looked around briefly, then back to her. “So… you can talk? This isn’t… a dream or anything?”

Applejack shook her head. “Eenope. Sorry. Already ruled that out on account of no intervention from Princess Luna.”

Silence, then he cleared his throat.

“Who’s-”

“One of four ruling princesses where I’m from. Watches over the night and pony’s dreams. I woulda heard something from her if this here were made up.”

“Oh. Sure, okay.”

“And you?”

He rubbed his forehead. “Well, uh, no cellphone to call anyone, so I smacked my head against a tree.”

Applejack raised a brow.

“I know, stupid, but it did the trick to let me know this wasn’t a dream. After seeing you though…”

She nodded. “I get it. Trust me, I’m used ta weird, it’s a common thing where I’m from. Ya did give me a rightful scare for a few moments.”

He laughed. “Well, I’m sure glad you’re taking this better than me.”

It was her turn to laugh. “Oh no, trust me, I’m just as freaked out as yerself. I just know how to hide it well.”

“Oh.”

Applejack’s smile grew slightly, her left cheek twitching.

“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat, “yeah, so, I think we need to just… move on before either of us lose our shit.”

“Agreed,” agreed Applejack.

Both stood there in an awkward silence.

Clearing her throat, the mare pointed a hoof at the building they stood before. “So, check this place out?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

Applejack turned around and slowly began walking forward, and she heard paw-like steps following.

Approaching the front of the building proper, there were a total of four doors. Three massive industrial sized doors made of paneled steel, with only small windows towards the top to let in light, but not look in or out.

The fourth door was much smaller, however still tall, and as they neared Applejack recognized that this person’s size was akin to it.

Speaking of him…

Applejack stopped, flicked her tail, then turned her head back. “I ain’t gonna bite, ya know.”

He had been staying back, keeping a comfortable distance between themselves.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, ya can come closer.”

“I know!”

Applejack turned around, facing him, an expecting look on her face.

He looked down at his feet, then back up to her, and took one long step forward, then stopped.

“There, see? Closer.”

The mare reached up to grab her hat and toss it, but realizing it was still missing, she changed direction and slapped her hoof against her forehead.

“Of all the-” stopping her rant before it could start, Applejack began walking fast towards him.

He quickly started to step backwards, but tripped and fell onto his butt with a yelp of pain. Distracted, he didn’t realize the mare was upon him until she was standing at his feet, looking him in the face.

She reached a hoof out towards him, to which he instinctively reflexed by covering his face. She placed her hoof onto his knee, ignoring the scattering of thin hair covering his legs, and shook it a couple times, then left it there.

“See? You can feel me, I can feel you. We’re both real. I ain’t gonna hurt ya, and I expect ya ain’t gonna hurt me.”

Yeesh, this guy’s as fidgety as Fluttershy.

Removing his hand from his face, he stared at her hoof, then followed it up along her leg, to her neck, then her face. He took a deep breath in, released it, then slowly, cautiously, reached his hand out. One finger pointed toward her hoof, and only hesitated for half a second before making contact.

“Woah.”

“Yeah, woah. I got fur, you ain’t. Feels weird.”

“I mean, I’ve touched horses before, and that felt no different, but I still didn’t expect it.”

Applejack removed her hoof from his knee, sitting down in front of him on her haunches. “I ain’t a horse, I’m a pony.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Depends on yer definition. My friend Twilight, real egg head of a mare that one, explained once that a horse was what our ancestors were, before we got all smart like, shrank some b’cause we weren’t no longer a prey species, and over the course of a bajillion years became the ponies we are today.”

He blinked, captivated by the information. Applejack continued.

“Then you got the sexist slur whorse, which is used for a pony who’s a street walker, or yer mom, depending on the pony you’re about to kick fer callin’ you that.”

He blinked harder, eyes wide and mouth open.

She smiled. “See? That there was a joke, a thing ponies, and I’d imagine you, whatever ya are, can do.”

Shaking his head, his eyes went back to normal and he smiled. “Human. I’m a human, and yeah, I just honestly didn’t expect such a sick joke from a small, bright orange… pony.”

“I learned early in life, ya gotta loosen up the tension before it snaps, and the same goes fer meetin’ new folk.”

“That’s good advice.” Then, he snapped his fingers. “Oh, crud, so you have a name I take it?”

“Of course. I’m Applejack.”

“Well, okay, I’m Bill.”

For the first time, the human showed the initiative and stretched his arm out towards the mare, hand open. Applejack reached her hoof out, and he grasped her hoof firmly, and they shook.

“Nice ta meet ya, Bill.”

“Same here, Applejack. Now that I’m not so freaked out, why don’t we go check out this place? Maybe find a phone or something.” Then, he picked up one of his feet and rubbed a foot. “Or at least some carpet to stand on.”

“Grand idea.”

Both returned to their feet and hooves respectively, and this time, side by side, they marched to the smaller door.

“Huh, lookit that,” Applejack pointed ahead.

The door was nothing special. Solid steel, speckled with rust spots and rust stains, however there was a simple long handle running along the one edge, and a rope tied with a large knot at one end dangled from it.

“Rope on a door, just sitting there?” Bill asked.

The answer was obvious to Applejack, but she figured not so for the human.

“Sometimes, places in Equestria make larger doors for other creatures that may visit, so they’ll put rope on the door to make it easier for ponies to pull the door open, or closed.”

“Oh, that… makes sense. So wait, if that’s what that is for, then… am I in Equestria?”

Pausing, the mare looked over to the large machine parked in front of one of the tall doors. “Got any clue what that there is?”

He looked over. “Yeah, it’s some sort of smaller SUV, I don’t recognize the make though. Why?”

Smaller!? “See, I ain’t got no clue what it is. So I’d say no.”

“Well, this does resemble someplace on Earth, I guess. Just, I don’t understand most of the written language I’ve seen,” he also pointed at a metal sign just above the small entry door.

Applejack tilted her head, looking at it from another angle.

“Eenope. Don’t get it either.”

Bill sighed. “Figures. Okay, so, let's go inside?”

“Agreed.”

A few more steps, and they were at the door. Bill gave the door a couple of knocks and waited.

Applejack shrugged, grabbed the rope, and swung the door open, nearly smacking it into her companion.

“Whoops, my bad. Didn’t realize there weren’t no resistance on it.”

Bill gave the door a couple of taps with his hand, looking up at the top and saw the door ram was disconnected. Nodding, he followed behind the mare and inside.

The room they entered was a massive garage, the three large doors to their right, and natural sunlight poured in to lighten up the area. There were 4 parking bays outlined by scuffed white paint, one of which sporting some sort of lift, however Applejack didn’t have any clue how it functioned without a pulley system above.

“Woah, this place is huge,” Bill took a couple more steps in, then seeing a light switch on the wall, he had to study it a moment before turning the knob with a click.

Overhead lights began to hum to life, a mixture of large dome mercury bulbs, and long fluorescent fixtures. All of which over the bays.

“Huh, this second switch is labeled. Inventory?”

Applejack turned to the human, brow raised.

“I dunno, try it I guess,” he said more to himself, then clicked it.

From behind the bays, more lights, just as previously described, came on, row after row, bank after bank, for seemingly a football field’s length.

“Hold up, how in the fuck?”

“What is it?” Applejack asked.

“There’s no way…” Bill immediately rushed outside, Applejack trailing behind him.

“What? What is it?”

The whole time, Bill power walked along the building, past the SUV, around the corner, and walked another fifty feet. He stepped on something cause he cursed and started limping, favoring one foot over the other, but wasn’t deterred, then stopped, looking around another corner.

Applejack caught up, looking around confused. “What is it?”

“You saw that, right? How deep in that place went?”

“Yeah? Oh. OH, wait one pony pickin’ minute!”

Bill waved his hands excitedly at the back of the building. “See it now!?”

It was the farm mare’s turn to rush away, back to the doorway and look inside the building.

It went on seemingly forever.

“That makes no sense.”

Bill peeked his head around the doorframe, above Applejack. “Right? This is some Doctor Who bullshit.”

Sounds like Derpy’s beau, Time Turner or Doctor Whooves, whatever he’s calling himself anymore.

The expansive area, as they now began to look closer, was lined with rows and rows of tall industrial steel shelves, loaded with pallets of boxes, crates, and several stacks of large rubber wheels.

They both stepped inside, and walked up to one set of shelves. A box on top was already partly open, and Bill opened it further, and pulled out something Applejack didn’t recognize.

“Huh, it’s a carb.”

“A what?”

“Carburetor, something used on older vehicles, like that SUV out there, to deliver the air-fuel mixture to the engine so it can run.”

Applejack blinked.

Bill rolled his eyes. “It’s a key part of how that thing out there works.”

“Alright, got it.”

“Yeah, but look. This box has room for four of them, and one is already missing. And that box, can’t read the words, but it shows a picture of I’d guess to be a head gasket, and I'd wager it’s full of them. So that means…”

Bill placed the carburetor back into the box, then started looking around, up and down, at all the shelves. “Jesus, these are all just… vehicle parts. This is like… a warehouse or something. There’s gotta be enough stuff here for a whole military branch!”

“And it’s inna building which defies natural law, in the middle of the woods?” Applejack asked.

“Hmm…” Bill looked around again, then down to Applejack.

With amusement, she realized her face only reached above his waist.

“So what is all of this for? Why here? And… why us?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“Well, you wake up in the middle of the woods, I wake up in a mud puddle along a dirt road. We both stumble upon this place? I’ve seen enough movies to know something brought us here.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just a big coincidence.”

Bill crossed his arms over his chest. “I doubt that. This place is literally impossible, yet here we are. Back home, you are impossible.”

“Back in Equestria, the impossible is always changing. Very few things are never able to happen. I’ve heard tales of stuff like this, in Canterlot Castle, where Princess Celestia keeps things out of ponies' sight.”

The human shook his head. “Listen to us, back home, like we’ve already given up we aren’t still home.”

She shrugged. “Crazier has happened.”

“For right now, this is enough crazy in one day. Let's see if there’s anything to eat around here. I’m starved.”

“Good idea. Nibbling on grass keeps ya from starving, but it’s just that.”

Bill stuck out his tongue in disgust. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Returning to the light switches, Bill clicked off the one labeled Inventory, and all the lights in the back of the bay shut down, hiding everything in complete darkness.

“Like it doesn’t exist,” mumbled Applejack.

“Yeah. Well, here’s a hallway. Let's check this out.”

Following along, Applejack noticed something above the hall entrance.

“Hey, lookie there.”

Bill looked up. “Oh yeah, huh.”

Above the entryway were two signs. One was much like all the other metal signs outside, unreadable, however above that, was a crude made wooden sign saying Home Sweet Home.

“I wonder if someone added that?” Applejack asked.

Bill looked down, brow quirked. “Wait, can you read that?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s written in English.”

“Huh, to me it’s written in Ponish.”

Tapping his chin, Bill continued down the hall, muttering “the mystery deepens.”

Rolling her eyes, Applejack followed after him.

From entering the hallway, they could see an open room at the end, and on either side were two doors each, with small metal boxes sticking out near the door handles.

Coincidently, one of these doors also had a rope hanging from it.

They approached the closest room, and Bill examined the door.

“Huh, this looks like one of those futuristic hand scanner things.”

“Huh?”

“More movie and science fiction stuff.”

“Oh, okay. I don’t read much of that genre, that’s more of my brother’s thing.”

Scratching his head, Bill started to reach his hand out toward it.

“Wait!” Applejack hastily shouted.

He stopped.

“What if somethin’ bad happens if it don’t open fer ya?”

Slowly drawing his hand back, Bill nodded. “Good call. We can investigate that later.”

Just then, Applejack heard an intense growling sound. She looked around, then saw Bill looking at her bashfully.

“After food, anyway. Sorry, like I said, haven’t eaten in hours.”

“Right, let’s go then,” Applejack said as she took the lead.

Just before he stepped away he went for the door handle, tried to turn it, and found it locked.

“Nope. Probably has to be unlocked with that thing.”

“Probably,” Applejack agreed.

Walking toward the end of the hall, they found it opened up into a massive room with all manner of fixtures.

To the left was a sitting area, windows going from one wall, wrapping around to another wall, then stopping, all currently having closed blinds, however they still let in enough light to illuminate inside. The main area sported a couple couches, couple cushioned chairs, coffee table, and end tables supporting table lamps with laughably large shades. All of which circled around both a cold fireplace and a metal wheeled cart with a small wooden paneled box, glass face, and two antennas poking up from the top.

Following to her right, where the line of curtained windows ended was a desk against the wall which had multiple electronics stacked high on one end, the other end saving space to write notes and do whatever was needed from a flat surface. Just ahead that, in the center of the room was a billiards table, a ping pong table, and then a dining table with four chairs.

Lastly, farthest to the right, was a modest kitchen which was sectioned off from the rest of the room by a U shaped counter and cabinets, going from wall to wall. A couple bar stools stood against the counter on the seating aread side. Along the farthest wall was a tall fridge, a smaller chest freezer beside it, a gas stove and oven, and beside that was even a wood burning stove. On the counter tops sported all manner of electrical and manual machines one would expect in a kitchen, including a sink with, hopefully, clean running water.

“Woah, this place is… set up,” Bill said, stepping around Applejack and heading straight for the kitchen.

“Yeah, but does anything work?”

“Let us find out then!” Bill said cheerily, grasping the metal fridge handle, and with a click pulled it open.

“Holy fuckballs, that’s a lot of vodka.”

Brow raised and her mind intrigued, Applejack joined Bill in the kitchen, stepped beside him, and looked into the appliance, and did a double take.

It was positively stuffed with glass bottles, large ones, small ones, and a few inbetween, all filled with clear liquid, and while the labels were unreadable, it was unmistakable by how generic the tags were. It was alcohol.

“Well, it’s cold, so it’s running. No food though. Hm.” Bill closed the fridge door, then stepping to the side he opened the freezer top, looked in, and whistled. “Well, someone got lucky.”

Applejack had to stand on the tips of her hooves, and rest her chin on the edge of the freezer to look inside, and she wished she hadn’t. Backing away and forcing herself not to gag, the cut up deer parts had been frozen for preservation and future use.

The mare gave a dry heave, forcing down what little she had which so desperately wanted back up.

“Oh, shit, you’re a herbivore aren’t you? I’m sorry, I didn't even think to warn you.”

“And… I take it yer a…” Applejack struggled to talk between catching her breath.

“Omnivore, so most plants, and meat.”

“Right.”

“Is that going to be an issue?”

Applejack shook her head. “No, once… urg, once you cook it to eat, the smell isn’t so strong or bad. It’s when its raw, uncooked, that gets most of us set off.”

“So you guys are used to it?”

“Yeah, we have gryphons and dragons back home, so it pops up.”

“Wow, that's cool.” Bill closed the freezer.

“Yeah, except most of ‘em are jerks.”

“Hah!” He laughed briefly, then started going through the cupboards. “Oh, wow, lots of stuff here. Not sure what half of it is because, you know, weird language…” he pulled out a box, which had already been opened once in the past, and pulled out a sleeve of crackers. “Oh hey, this will do for now.”

Opening the plastic wrap, he gave a sniff, then frowned. “Well, they’re probably stale, but edible. Want any?”

“Sure.”

Bill walked over to the table, pulling out two of the chairs, and sitting in one of them while Applejack took the other. He divided the sleeve in two, sliding Applejack’s half towards her.

“Much obliged,” she nodded, then picked one up with her hoof and ate it.

“How did you do that?”

She blinked. “Do what?”

“Just pick that cracker up with…” he paused, looked at the crackers, his hands, her hoof, then back to his hand. “Never mind. Enough crazy for one day.”

Chuckling, Applejack continued to nibble on the stale crackers, while absentmindedly looking around the room they were in. Should’a seen if there were plates.

Between mouthfuls, Applejack voiced up, “no other doors, ‘cept those four in the hall.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. I was thinking we should give one a try anyway."

“Agreed. My guess is they’re bedrooms, but with those weird box thingies on the walls, who knows?”

Bill nodded, wiping off his side of the table, sending the crumbs to the floor.

Applejack watched with an unamused expression. He looked at her curiously.

“What?”

“Ya know, if we’re stayin’ here any length of time, that will not fly.”

Now he raised a brow. “Come again?”

Applejack got off her seat, walked over to a wall where a couple brooms and dustpans were placed (funny enough, one broom had a short handle, and one dustpan had an upright base), grabbed the tall broom and regular dustpan in her teeth, and walked back over, giving them to Bill, who took them absentmindedly.

Then, it clicked in his head. “Oh, come on, you can’t be serious.”

“In my house, ya don’t go makin’ messes like that.” Applejack trotted away, going into the kitchen.

“In your- now hold on lady, this isn’t either of our’s house, or building, or… anything! You can’t expect me to just kneel to your every whim already, Christ we just met, haven’t even fucked around a bit.”

Applejack was now standing on her rear legs, front hooves supporting her against the counter that helped section off the kitchen from the table area. She gave him a quirked brow.

“You damn well know what I mean, you did a yo mama joke earlier, so you can’t pull the wool over my eyes with naivety.”

She laughed at that. “Fair. But still, we’re in the woods. Rodents will start gettin’ drawn if stuff like that is just left on the floor to attract ‘em.”

“Oh sure, and not like this stuff being in here at all would have? I’ve seen mice chew holes in steel trash cans.”

The mare was quiet for a moment, finally finding a dish towel, wetting it briefly, then walking back to the little dining area. “Good point, but my point stands. No makin’ a mess while we’re here.”

Sighing, Bill kept quiet, brooming up his crumbs, and then noticing the mare brushing the towel towards the edge of the table. Without being asked, he placed the dustpan against it, and she so graciously dusted her own crumbs to join his.

“Thank ya kindly.”

“Sure, sure. Christ this is going to feel like I’m married, isn’t it?”

“Depends,” Applejack slapped the dish towel over her back. “Have ya ever been married b’fore?” she asked, then took the dustpan from his hand in her teeth, walking back into the kitchen

“Nope, thank God. You?”

“Ee’ope,” she said through her occupied mouth.

She dumped the contents into a small trash can in the corner. There were already a few things in the can, mostly just empty wrappers and an empty box. She tossed the towel in the sink and replaced the dustpan, all the while Bill sat in his chair, holding onto the broom like a tall cane.

“So, what, we make up some rules? Boundaries?” he asked.

“Sure. Provided we’re gonna stay here together?” she asked back.

“Two is always better than one, and maybe if someone is looking for either of us, then that person’s party can also help the other home.”

“Good call. Let’s finish lookin’ around, then have our lil’ pow wow. So, mystery rooms?”

Reluctantly, Bill stood, using the broom as assistance, and walking toward the hall he replaced the broom.

Applejack joined him, and a short walk later, they stood before one of the doors, the room next to this one having the rope around the handle.

Bill tried the handle of this one, and had the same result.

“Okay, here goes nothing.”

Cautiously, Bill placed his hand on the cold screen, and suddenly it lit up in an amber color. Messages flashed across faster than Applejack could try to read it, when suddenly it all turned green, dinged, and an audible clunk of the door lock made her ears twitch.

“Well, that was easy.”

Bill gripped the handle, turned it, and pushed the door open.

3: Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

The door swung open, revealing darkness, save for the shade covered light from the lone window on the back wall.

Applejack peered inside, with Bill right above her, as the two looked around.

“Hard to tell,” Bill started, then reached his arm into the room, slapping the wall with his hand, “but I’m sure there is a- ah, there!”

He found the light switch, and like the others, rotated it and clicked on the single light fixture on the ceiling, illuminating the room.

It wasn’t too small, but still slightly larger than Applejack’s own bedroom in the farmhouse. More akin to her parents' old room, the largest bedroom in the house, but this room was also sparse on fixtures. A lone desk with an old wheelie chair, a pillow sitting on the seat. A bed, unmade, had a scattering of papers and a few books on it. Speaking of which, random papers were scattered about everywhere.

The walls, mostly around the bed and desk, were covered in sheets of paper, mostly charts, graphs, and other things Applejack had no clue on. There was a dresser which was bare on top, and a simple end table beside the bed which had a digital alarm clock on the ground beside it, flashing a green 12:00.

Also scattered about, on most every flat surface, were empty containers of either food or drink.

“Wow, it looks a lot like my college dorm, but only on my bunk mate’s side.”

Applejack smiled. “Only their side?”

“Well… maybe some of it was mine too.”

She snorted a laugh. “Reminds me a lot of my friend Twilight, actually.”

“The nerd one, right?”

“She was less apt to pout if ya called her well read, but yeah.”

“Is it bad to imagine a pony like you pouting adorable?”

Shaking her head, Applejack stepped into the room proper. “Naw, we’re all about cutesy stuff. Just our thing. Been called out on it a lot too, but mostly we ignore it.”

“Wild how you’re so self aware of stuff like that.”

She shrugged, flipping through some papers on the carpeted floor. “I’m tha Element of Honesty. I notice these things more aptly than most.”

“You’re the… no, no, never mind. Another time.”

Bill joined her in the room, kicking some stray papers.

“So, make anything of all this?”

Looking up at the wall, Applejack tilted her head. “Actually… yes, but not in the way ya wanna hear.”

Walking towards the bed, Bill smacked the crumpled up comforter, sending dust in the air, and then promptly sat down, the bed creaking and moaning from his weight. “Alright, hit me with it.”

The farm mare sat in the center of the room, then pointed at the wall with the desk. “All that nonsense? Not sure without actually sitting down to read it, but there”, to which she pointed at him, or more so, the papers on the walls around the bed, “that there is stuff I’m sure I’ve seen in Twilight’s lab before. Magic runes, symbols, and the like. I think a unicorn was in this room.”

“Woah, unicorns are a thing then? So wait, what are you?” Bill asked, picking up a random strand of hair, its blue color not normal looking to him.

“We have three tribes. I’m an Earth pony, ya see? We’re in tune with nature and the land we trot upon. Unicorns are all about magic and smarts, sport a pointy horn on their heads. Pegasi, ponies with wings basically, focus on the weather, and bravado.”

“Wow, see, back home we just have humans. Everything else is just on the food chain.”

Applejack stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Yeah, no thanks. Sounds lonely.”

“Your loss then.”

Looking around, there was one last thing that wasn’t apparent before walking in.

“Huh, a door?” she asked, approaching.

“Yeah, saw that, but figured we’d get to it eventually,” Bill then promptly kicked back, swinging his legs around so he could lay on the bed, however his bare, dirty feet still hung over the foot board. “Right now though, I’m more tired than anything.”

Applejack shook her head. “Until yer hungry.”

“Right.”

The mare reached for the door handle, and tried to turn it, but it was locked.

“Weird, locked too. Wonder why?”

“Beats me,” Bill said as he continued to lounge about.

“Alright lazy bones, enough of that. Let’s check the other rooms, then we can rest.”

Groaning, he sat back up, brushing more of the blue fur off the bed, then stood. “I guess so. Okay, so next door?”

“Sure.”

They walked out of the room, leaving the room door open.

This door had the rope on the handle. Applejack had no doubt it was home to a earth pony like herself, but one never knew things until they saw it with their own eyes.

Bill placed his hand on the screen thingie, and it was first amber in color, then quickly shot to red, flashing an alert.

“Huh, that’s weird,” Bill removed his hand. “Said something briefly, about already registered?”

Applejack tapped her chin, then marched forward, and stood up on her hind legs, using one forehoof to stabilize herself on the wall, and placed the other onto the screen.

Just like the previous room for Bill, it was amber for a while, flashing all manner of words and numbers, then went green, and the sound of the door lock undoing signaled her to return to all fours.

“That was weird,” Bill said.

“Maybe,” Applejack then stretched her neck out, grasping the door handle with her teeth, and could feel the many little indents of another grabbing this handle in similar form.

Smiling, she turned her head, and the door opened. She let go with her muzzle, and pushed the door with a hoof.

It was dark, and when Bill tried to find the switch, he found nothing. Thinking quick, Applejack used a hoof and found a switch set lower, and instead of a turn knob style it was a flick switch, obviously having been modified as there was no protective plate over it and some exposed wires, and moved it up, turning on the overhead light.

This room was much like the previous one, however the most apparent thing was the lack of mess, instead the bed was made, the floor was litter free, and besides the layers of dust on each surface, it was hard to tell it had been lived in at all.

The desk, however, held multiple binders of paper, closed and off to the side, as if they had been organizing, put to the side for later, and then forgotten.

Then, something else caught her attention.

“Hey, look,” she pointed at the right side of the room, where a lone door stood.

“Oh, do you think maybe…?” Bill asked.

Shrugging, Applejack marched forward, then grabbing the handle, it effortlessly turned, and she pulled the door back.

Both human and pony peered inside, and noticed right away another door straight ahead.

“Wait, is that-” Bill started, only to be interrupted by Applejack marching into the bathroom, hooves lightly clicking along tile, then unlocking the other door, opening it, and revealing the other bedroom.

“Eeyup. Joined bathroom.”

“Well that would make things awkward then. Thankfully we probably got two other rooms to pick from.”

Applejack simply hummed, then returned to the second room. Looking around, a few other objects caught her attention. A normal wind up alarm clock on the bed side table, still as a ghost. Then, something was just barely visible from under the bed.

“What’s that?” she pointed.

Bill, who was standing near the bed, looked down to where the mare’s hoof was pointed, leaned down, and pulled out a shoebox.

“Woah, holy shit this is heavy.”

Leaving the box on the floor, he simply removed the lid.

“Honestly, not sure what I expected… but I’m still shocked.”

Applejack joined the human, and looked into the box as well.

Well over a dozen iron horse shoes, all crudely made and extremely worn, lined the box.

“Wow, this here pony sure was a worker.” Applejack picked up one with both of her forehooves after sitting on the floor.

“Big feller, too. Maybe not my brother’s size, but close to it.”

“I didn’t even realize you had shoes on.”

She smiled, and showed off one of her own shoes. “Yeah, our town farrier has a unicorn friend who enchants her shoes for quietness. When you start hearing them though, it means they’re near their worn limits and time to get new ones. Granted, on hard surfaces like tile or stone, ya will still hear a little something.”

“Wow, a lot like car brakes. That’s… smart.”

Applejack nodded, then placed the shoe back into the box. “I reckon, my brother goes through a pair about every year, or if we’re in a pinch and buy the cheap magicless ones, about every three months, give or take when he has them pulled for special occasions that warrant them more than a few days.”

“Are these ones magical?” he asked.

“Well, if there was another unicorn here, and he knew the spell, possibly. Hard to say.”

“Well,” Bill began, licked his lips, then looked under the bed, “yeah, there’s a couple more boxes down here.”

“Crud,” Applejack swore.

“That would mean we’re talking about years this pony might have been here?” Bill said, then looked at the mare, a frown on his face.

“Considerin’ just how worn these here are.” She gave the box a light kick. “Even if they aren’t magical, this pony got all the time out of these he or she could. That’s… not too reasurin’.”

“Nope.”

Applejack walked over to the desk, which she noticed had had its legs cut down, and a normal wooden chair was with it to the same effect, save it had a cushion on it. She gave the cushion a slap, sending dust about.

“Also, seein’ how much dust there is, I’d wager there ain’t been nopony in here fer… a good five years at least.”

“Any other observations to drive in just how fucked we may be, Miss Wonderful News?”

Applejack stuck her tongue out at him. “Smartass, I’m just tryin’a figure some of this out.”

“I know, but the more you say out loud, the more dread I feel.”

The mare shrugged. “We’re alive, coulda’ been a lot worse.”

“I’d argue, but I feel as though it would be a losing argument.”

“Good, yer learnin’.” Applejack gave him a wink.

“That’s not what I… oh never mind,” Bill said with a sigh, waving a hand at her. “Anyway, let’s check out those other rooms before I feel any worse.”

Nodding in agreement, Applejack marched out of the room, to the door just across from them, and tried her hoof on the screen.

It did the same thing it had for Bill’s hand previously.

“Huh, try again?”

Bill walked over, placed his hand on it, and again, amber, then red, denying them entry.

“Well, that sucks. So, what, we got a one time deal, and we’re stuck with our choice?”

“Seems that way,” Applejack said as she tried the last room, which got the same result. “Drats.”

“Yeah, drats alright. I could have had two whole rooms to myself, plus a bathroom, and now I gotta share with you!”

The mare raised a brow at him, the faintest smirk on her face as she gave him a glare.

“Okay, that sounded bad. Sorry, I just mean… I’ve never had to share a bathroom with a woman before. Or, uh… lady horse?”

“Mare, and pony, remember?”

“Right, that, sorry.”

“Well yer in luck then, partner. I got a older brother and a baby sister I share one with at the ranch, so I know how to not tick ya off or nothin’.”

“Huh. So you still live at home with the folks?”

Applejack twitched, but not offended. “Folks ‘er gone, passed several years prior. Just us three and our granny. We run an apple orchard.”

Bill seemed to flinch at the mention of her passed on parents, but didn’t dwell on it. “Oh, wow, so you’re a farm pony. That’s…” he paused for a minute.

“That’s…?”

He sighed. “I wanted to say that that’s good because if we’re stuck here too long, we can do a garden. I have limited experience, but I know the basics. Just… admitting that out loud stings.”

Nodding in agreement, Applejack walked over and placed a hoof on his thigh, giving it a couple of pats. “Don’t worry, Bill. We will figure this out. Just need to get some grub, rest, then make some plans on how ta get out of here.”

“Right, right. Say though, now that I’m looking at this, if there’s just us two, but four rooms… would that mean-”

Bill was interrupted from a sound coming from the lounge area, the keying of a microphone, then a crackly voice muddled by static.

“Hello? Hello? Is anybody out there?”

4: Can You Hear Me Now?

Bill and Applejack shared a look, then both quickly hustled down the hall and to the waiting desk. With his longer strides Bill reached first, sitting on the chair, looking around at the equipment in confusion.

“Wow, this stuff looks ancient, like something from Band of Brothers.”

“Hello? Anybody out there? Come on back with me!”

“Here, Bill,” Applejack said, picking up a base microphone hanging off the edge.

“Oh, great.”

Grasping the shaft, he clicked the back switch, keying the mic.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Yes! Finally! I've been trying this thing for a few hours now, thought maybe I was stranded. Is this a mountie?”

“Uh, no, sadly.”

“Oh. Well, do you live nearby then? Got someone nearby to pick me up? I don’t righly know how I wound up in the woods, but no mistaking that’s where I am. There’s a four wheeler down at the base of this watchtower, but it has no go go juice and a tire is flat, so I'm stranded.”

“What should we tell him?” Bill asked Applejack.

The mare shrugged. “The truth?”

Rolling his eyes, Bill keyed the mic again. “Hey, so uh, got some good news, and some bad news.”

“Alright, friend, what’s the bad news first?”

“Well, myself and another here, are also lost. Good news is we just stumbled upon this garage only about a half hour ago, and it’s got electricity and some food stuff.”

“Oh. Well, then surely you can call for help?”

“Did you see a phone, Applejack?”

She looked around the expansive room briefly, then shook her head.

“Sorry, but we can’t seem to find a phone. Are you alone?”

“Yeah, just me. Went to sleep in my rig last night, woke up in a patch of flowers on the ground. Ain’t done nothing like that since my young buck days.”

“Yeah, we woke up in a similar fashion.”

“He said he was in some sort of watch tower?” Applejack asked.

“Oh, right, good call.” Bill keyed the mic, “hey man, you’re up in a tower, right?”

“10-4.”

Applejack raised a brow, but Bill waved her off.

“Okay, can you see what’s around you? Any other buildings? The one we’re in is a sort of tan color, faces away from a mountain in the distance. Has a lot of trees surrounding the backside.”

There was no reply for a good while, almost to the point Bill was going to radio again, but the radio came to life and the man spoke.

“No, no, I don’t see no building. I do see another truck though, probably a mile away. Covered in a tarp from the looks of it, all I can see are the wheels. Wait, yes, I do see a building, the truck is parked near a collapsed barn. I’m currently situated I’d say a mile or two from the base of that there mountain you spoke of.”

Quickly, Applejack rushed over to the other side of the desk, and opened part of the blinds and peered out the window.

“What side of the mountain is the sun goin' down fer ‘im?”

Keying the mic again, “Hey, where is the sun currently, in relation to the mountain?”

“It’s setting just behind the mountain, behind me.”

“Great!” Applejack said. “It’s doin’ tha same here, maybe at a slightly different angle, but I’d bet he’s between us and that mountain.”

Bill had keyed the mic when Applejack started talking. “Did you get all that?”

“Why sure I did. She sure has a pretty voice.”

Applejack stepped down from the window and faced the desk, Bill held the mic up to her and keyed it. “Thank ya, stranger! Ya don't sound too shabby yerself. Say, I’m Applejack, and the man with me here is Bill. What’s yer name?”

“Flint McLintock, but you pretty lady may call me Flint.”

Bill shook his head. “Wow, what a charmer.”

“He’s older, I can tell.”

“Yeah.” Bill keyed the mic, “Say Flint, you mentioned there’s a vehicle at the base of the tower? What kind is it?”

There was another pause.

“I said the lady may call me Flint, to you boy it’s McLintock.”

Applejack whistled. “Real charmer, that one.”

Bill sighed. “Right, whatever. McLintock, do you know what kind of vehicle you have there?”

“It’s one of them old military humvee's.”

One of Bill’s eyebrows raised curiously. “As in, like a U.S. Army Humvee? A Hummer?”

“That’s the one. No markings on it, just painted a dark gray. It was empty inside, looked like whoever drove it up here unloaded all their goods and took up place here in this tower. Not a lot, but food, water, a bolt action hole plugger with a nice spyglass.”

“Hole plugger and spy- oh, he means a scoped rifle,” Bill muttered to himself, then returned to the microphone.

“Alright, that’s cool. We have a little SUV at this garage, so maybe if we can figure out where you are, we can bring a spare wheel and some gas.”

“Odds of havin’ a spare wheel for that there machine are slim, son.”

Applejack smiled. “He don’t know about this place.”

“Yeah, and I’m not gonna try to explain it either.” He keyed the mic. “Don’t worry about that. Listen, we’re both tired and need to get cleaned up, investigate a few more things, will you be okay for a while?”

“Son, I’ve spent the last twenty years livin’ out of my big rig, I’ll manage. I’m just grateful that there’s some other folk around, and I aint alone.”

“Yeah, same here.” Bill released the trigger, “Say, he sounds like a human to me, unless you ponies have big rigs?”

Applejack shook her head. “Nope, unless that's a euphemism, don’t even know what that is.”

“A euphemism for wha- wait, don’t answer that. Alright then, how about the rifle he described?”

Again, she shook her head.

“Okay.” Bill keyed the mic. “Say, McLintock, just to be on the safe side, I gotta tell ya something, and it’s gonna sound weird, but you gotta trust both of us on this, alright?”

“Sure, ain’t heard no reason to not trust ya yet.”

“Great. So, if you happen to see another person, obviously handle it how you see fit, but they’re probably lost like us.”

“I’d figure as such.”

“However,” at this Bill looked at Applejack, staring her up and down, “if you see something… more equine like, but shorter, possibly brightly colored, maybe with a horn on its head or wings…” he paused, releasing the mic. “Where are the wings on ponies?”

“Their back’s”

“Right,” he keyed the mic again, “on their backs, don’t shoot. They might also be lost, like us.”

There was absolute silence for several long minutes as Applejack and Bill shared looks.

“McLintock?”

“I heard ya son, just tryin’ ta figure out what kind of sauce you might be on.”

Bill slapped his forehead, but after a poke from Applejack, he handed her the mic. She grasped it in both hooves, using one to press in the switch.

“Flint, I know it sounds weird to ya, but he’s serious. I’m not one of you humans, I’m a pony. We’ve found some weird things in this here building, and we think maybe there is another one of my kind out there.”

“Are ya sure?”

Applejack looked at Bill, who shrugged.

“We don’t know, no. But from what we’re seein’, I’d bet my right hind leg on it, and trust me, fer a farm mare like myself, that’s a high stake to lay down.”

There was more silence.

Suddenly, laughter came over the speaker. With a voice like yours, I can’t find reason to think yer lying. Besides, found a few interestin’ things up in this tower, too. Couldn’t rightly explain them, but if you’re really a four legged pony talkin’ to me, then this might make some sense.”

Applejack smiled. “Well when we get ta meet, then you’ll understand even more.”

“I can’t wait to, ma’am. I’ll leave this here chatter box on in case either of ya need me, or I need ya’ll in a hurry.”

“Sounds good, Flint. Talk to you, and hopefully see you, soon.”

“Likewise, little lady. Son, take care of that there lady. She’s got too pretty of a voice to let harm come to her.”

Bill took the mic. “Yeah, okay old man.”

Applejack snickered, but no more replies came from the radio, so Bill placed the mic down on the desk.

“Well, that now makes three,” Bill sighed, leaning back in the chair, making it groan. “So now where is number four?”

"Won't know till we find 'em, or they find us."

Bill nodded, then righted himself in the chair. “Or if there even is.”

She wanted to add more, but instead another thought came to her mind, and voiced it instead.

"Were it just me, or did he talk kinda funny?" Applejack asked.

"Yeah, pretty sure he is a truck driver."

"I know what a truck is, parts of our farm equipment got ‘em, but a driver?"

Bill shook his head. "I think you got the wrong impression. For us, a truck is like that SUV, but more slated for utility. They can be as small as that out there, to as large as a small house."

Applejack's eyes went wide. "Woah."

"Yeah,” he responded, then happened to look down at his grimy shirt, “So, I don't know about you, but I'm dirty."

The mare looked at her own mud stained coat. "Yeah, I look like a pig fresh out of his muck hole."

"Yup. A nice hot shower sounds good."

"Or a cool bath."

"Then maybe see if there are any clean clothes around."

"I'd like to find some hair bands, my mane and tail got a mind of 're own when not bound."

"Gonna need to find some shoes, or boots, if we are gonna go looking for this guy later on."

"I'd love to find a hat. I feel naked."

"You are naked, which is another topic for another time."

Both broke out into righteous laughter. Slowly, they began to calm down, then look at each other.

Then Bill glanced down the hall.

So did Applejack.

A heartbeat, then two, and both jumped into action, making for the only bathroom as fast as they could.

—-------

The bathroom door opened, Bill, naked except for a white towel around his waist, looked around the room briefly, before spotting Applejack sitting on the floor, pouting, forelegs crossed over her chest.

“I know I joked about it earlier, but I’m glad to know a pony pouting is, indeed, adorable.”

She glowered at him. “Yer just lucky I didn’ have my lasso.”

Another reason she missed her hat so desperately.

“Or maybe it’s because I actually work out twice a week and am not an easy pushover. Anyway, the bathroom's all yours. I found some towels under the sink, and there’s something else I think you’ll be happy to see.”

With that, he left her bathroom door open, walking back into his room. She heard his bathroom door close with a gentle click.

“Stupid human, don’t he know any manners? Like, ladies first, or anythin’?”

Still grumbling to herself, Applejack stood up, then trotted into the still steamy bathroom. This time, she was able to actually study it closer than her initial exploration of the doors themselves.

Unlike the bland, tan walls of both rooms, the bathroom was actually pink. Not bright like Pinkie’s coat, but if her bubbly friend had been left in the sun for years and began to fade. The tiles were the same, with white squares mixed in to throw off the constant flood of pink.

Even the plumbing was pink, which caused a chill to run down the mare’s spine. The sink counter, which sported two pink sinks, was a dull bleached stained wood with four doors, and the counter top was white. Above the sinks was a currently steamed up large mirror that went from wall to wall, and almost up to the ceiling, leaving only a small gap for 4 hanging light fixtures to come out and hang there brightening the room.

The opposite wall housed a walk in shower, a cheap curtain rod and vinyl curtain, the only thing separating it from the rest of the bathroom. No tub, she was sad to see, but she could do with a shower.

Off to the side was a pink toilet, the seat left up.

Applejack’s brow twitched for some reason, but she let it go for now.

First thing was first, she walked over and locked Bill’s door from her side. Not that she expected anything untoward from him; it was more out of reflex. Having two other siblings in her home, if that door was ever unlocked, it was sure as all else they’d be in there while she was trying to bathe, or use the potty.

Next, she opened the first cabinet door, revealing multiple toiletries, but no towels, so she grabbed a shampoo bottle at random (they were all in that weird language, but this bottle had a picture of flowing hair on a human’s head). Next door had the towels, but Bill hinted there was something else in there, so upon opening the third door, she grinned.

There was a multicolored package of elastic hair ties. She was more apt to using actual ribbon ties, but these would do nicely in controlling her wild and unruly hair, with the added bonus of making her tail once again a usable limb.

Tearing open the bag, she grabbed two matching red ones, placed them on the sink, and replaced the package. Closing the door, she grabbed two clean towels, placing them similarly, and also closed that door.

Next would be the tricky part. As she entered the shower area she noticed the hot and cold knobs were set up higher than her head, but thankfully someone (or somepony, she assured herself) had brought in a small wooden stool, just the right height to get her to reach them with her hoof.

She turned on the hot water first, allowing it to fall beside her, feeling the splatterings touch her fur. It was quick to heat, so she then turned the cold water knob a quarter of a turn at a time, until she found what felt just right (three quarter turns, as it so happened).

Then, she stepped under the cascade of water, allowing it to soak into her fur and touch her skin.

Oh, Celestia’s sun loving cheeks, does this feel good.

While she hadn’t done much work as if she’d been on the farm, all of the mental stress that had been piling on had worn her out just as much. So much so, that she simply stood there, letting the water hit her, rinsing away the grime and stress. She didn’t move, only breathing in and out.

Three gentle knocks echoed in the bathroom.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” Bill asked, but not waiting for an answer continued, “I found some clothes in that bullshit inventory place, as well as an old ass washing machine. Damn thing has that roller thingie on top.”

“Ya mean a wringer?” Applejack called out over the splashing water.

“Yeah, that thing. Crazy. No dryer, so we’ll probably be hanging our clothes.”

“Fine by me.” No clothes, silly.

“Of course it is. Anyway, I’ll leave you alone.”

Silence once again, save for the water, but it at least was calming, soothing. Mixed with the heat and steam around her she could have fallen asleep standing up.

She violently shook her head, grabbed the bottle of shampoo, dumped a generous amount along her back, and using her hooves she began scrubbing. Without a long handled loofah, or another pony to help, this was going to take a while.

5: Lodging and Logging

Applejack had been lying on the bathroom floor on one of the towels, just staring up at the ceiling light for a good half hour. This was usually the best way to dry her back, rolling around on a lush, puffy towel.

Sadly, these towels were cheap and thin, reminding her of the towels from that Manehattan hotel when she’d helped Rarity on numerous occasions, before her boutique opened.

The steam was finally starting to thin out when she rolled onto her side, then belly, and stood up. She kicked the towel towards where Bill had left one he’d used, as well as his mucky clothes, beside the toilet.

Enough time had been wasted, and grabbing a comb brush she’d found, she wrapped the two hair bands around it for easier travel. Grabbing the dryer towel of the bunch she’d used she draped it on her back, picked up the brush in her teeth, and she unlocked Bill’s door.

She gave it three gentle knocks.

“All clear, you can come… out? In?”

Applejack opened his door, seeing the human staring at the mess of papers taped to the wall over the desk. Like he’d mentioned before, he had indeed found clothes as he was dressed similarly to before, including socks.

He had on a plain white T-shirt, and a pair of jogging shorts not unsimilar to the ones he’d been wearing when they met, just these were blue instead of his black ones on the bathroom floor.

“I figured we needed ta talk,” Applejack began, brush in her mouth, “but it takes a while ta dry ‘nd comb my hair. Figured two cakes, one party.”

“Sure,” Bill agreed, not looking away from the wall.

Finding a spot on the floor, she laid down the damp towel and sat on it. She began working on her tail first, brushing the golden hair from dock outward, working any knots or split ends, all the while using her other hoof to wave it about and aid in the drying.

“Well, I feel like the most important thing to talk about right now is this,” Bill said, pointing to the wall he had been intently staring at.

“The stuff that ain’t crazy magic symbols?”

“Yeah. It’s all stuff about this place, mostly things that should be impossible.”

“Like the back of the garage?”

Bill hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Surprisingly, no, the biggest one? Escaping.”

Applejack paused, brush in mouth as she turned to look at Bill.

The human had done the same, but also was now staring at the mare like he’d seen her for the first time just now.

I probably look like a mess, and he’s tryin’ ta not laugh.

He then quickly cleared his throat, and began again.

“Yeah. There’s other things, but most of it makes no sense, stuff about checking ley lines and barriers and something about ghosts? I don’t know. Then there’s stuff here about logging, moving trees to and from place to place.”

He gripped one of the sheets of paper, and with a quick clean tug tore it from the wall.

“And I quote, Now that we know logging is the name of the game, everyone else has been more apt to arguing. I see no reason for this, just do the job, and maybe we go home. Or sit around and argue, and we die here. End quote.”

“Well, that ain’t ominous or nothin’. Loggin’, huh? Fellin’ tha timbers themselves, or movin’ ‘em?”

Bill set the paper on the desk surface, then looked on the wall until he found another one, doing the same as he removed it.

“Just moving it. Someone? It has circled and with question marks, by the by, already cut them and stacked them.”

He tossed the paper with the previously tossed page.

“So I mean, if they’re right, then this should be quick and easy. Move some logs, bam, go home.”

A shiver ran down Applejack’s spine, and after finishing with her tail, she wrapped the first hair scrunchie around the end like she normally would. She gave it an experimental flick, and was satisfied. Next was her mane, but she needed to say something first.

Bill, however, beat her to voicing something.

“Oh you found those hair ties.”

Applejack smiled. “I sure did. Thanks fer thinkin’ of me.”

“Of course.”

There was a brief moment of silence, then Applejack spoke.

“Well, I were ‘bout to say tha I helped with some loggin’, back when I was a filly. Had to fell some old trees along the Everfree border. Mostly I just helped gather the smaller sticks fer campfires.”

“Oh great,” Bill slapped his hands together, “then this shouldn’t be too bad, if you remember anything. How long did it take you?”

“It took us three months.”

Bill’s smile began to flatten like a tire with a nail.

“‘nd that were fer five trees.”

He waved his hands toward the mare. “How!?”

Finally voicing what she felt was important, she started brushing her mane. “We’re earth ponies, we’re proud, and we work hard. I remember several unicorns offerin’ to help, but were turned down.”

“Don’t you guys have any sort of logging equipment?”

“We had axes, chain, ‘nd strong backs.”

“That’s the stupidest-”

Applejack waved the brush in her hoof, away from her mane. “I know, I know, trust me, Twilight taught me that lesson years ago. Still though, it ain’t no easy task. Simple in idear, but in practical sense?” she shook her head, then went back to brushing her mane.

“So, what then? Do we take this seriously? Or just try to hop in that little vehicle outside and try to drive off?”

Brushing her mane, Applejack was quiet as she thought about it.

"Well, obviously, we need ta help Flint. Then try ta locate our fourth party."

"We are only guessing there is a fourth."

Hitting a snag, the mare worked it out with a tug and tinge of pain. “My gut tells me there is another out there.”

“Your gut is also full of old, stale crackers.” Sighing, Bill took a seat in the wheelie chair at the desk, looking up at the wall. “Well, he also does mention there being four of them in some of this stuff. It’s just frustrating, like he was trying to keep track of what was going on, but didn’t organize anything, just jotted down random thoughts and moved on. One of these is even just scribbling on a napkin.”

Applejack snickered through the brush in her mouth.

“Let me guess, Twilight, was it?”

“Naw, another friend, Rarity. Dressmaker, whenever she found inspiration, she’d draw it on anything. There’s one of her design’s on the inside wall of our barn, drawn in lipstick.”

“That’s funny.”

“Yeah, she’d be that from time to time. Then again, so could I.”

Silence took over the conversation, as Applejack focused on her mane, and thought about her friends, family, and farm. She’d occasionally look to Bill, finding him as similarly lost looking, deep thinking apparent by his expression.

When she was happy with her mane, she placed the second scrunchie on it in her traditional ponytail. Satisfied, she stood, gathering the brush and towel on her back, and walked towards the bathroom.

“Say, Applejack?”

She paused, turning her head to look back. “Yeah?”

Bill was wiping off some of the heavy dust on the desk. “How’d you come up with five years?”

Confused at first, then her mind clicked.

“B’cause this looks about how my parents' room looked by the time any of us mustered the courage to go in after they died.”

“Oh.”

Silence, then, Applejack faced forward again.

“Jus’ gimme a few, then I’ll be ready to go check out that, uh, Suv you called it?”

“Just the letters, S-U-V, but yeah, sure. Give me a few minutes to clear my head. Knock when whoever’s ready first?”

“Sounds good.”

Applejack closed Bill’s bathroom door behind her, replaced the brush under the sink, placed the dirty towel with the others, and then walked into her room, leaving the bathroom door ajar for the time being.

She looked at the bed, still neatly made, a pillow under the cover to keep it protected. With a resigned sigh, she gripped the sheet edge in her teeth. Giving it a mighty tug, pulling with her neck muscles, she sent five years worth of dust and dander all over the room, something she never thought she’d repeat again.

Applejack was closing the dresser drawer when Bill poked his head through her open bathroom door.

“Hey, uh, it’s been like a half hour. Are you good?”

Blinking, she looked at the wound alarm clock. “Oh, wow, lost track o’ time.”

“Cleaning can do that. My mother would get lost for hours, miss appointments or skip lunch.”

“Yeah, I jus’ don’t like ta not be busy.”

“Well, I think you better try and enjoy it for the evening, cause if we’re gonna go out there and do some exploring, we’re gonna be feeling like shit for a while. I helped out on a missing person mission in the forest years back, three days out in the hills of West Virginia was miserable enough for me.”

Applejack laughed. “Try campin’ with a pony twice yer size, snores like a chainsaw, and jus’ ate a whole can o’ beans fer dinner.”

“Oh, that sounds… flatulent.”

“Har-dee. Still don’t know how Sugar Belle does it.”

“Sugar Belle?”

“My brother’s beau, they’re pretty serious. She’s stayed over at the farm a few times. Probably gonna get hitched here soon.”

“Heh, hope you got thick walls.”

“Nope. First time it happened, didn’ know what was goin’ on, thought maybe somepony were breakin’ into tha house. Boy was that embarrasin’.”

Bill leaned against the door, holding his gut as he laughed quietly. “Holy shit, that’s amazing.”

Applejack shared in the laughter. “Now I can laugh about it, but then, I couldn’t look ‘em in the eyes fer days.”

As the laughter died off, Bill looked at Applejack with a sad expression. “You already miss them, huh?”

“That obvious?”

He nodded. “I miss my parents, too. Hadn’t seen them in a few months, we live in different towns, but close enough to occasionally visit.”

“No special somecreature?”

“Girlfriend? Nope. Last one left me with a note on my door about a year ago. I was kind of glad, she was too controlling and I was about to break it off anyway. You?”

She shook her head. “Usually too busy, or the occasional hook up don’t go no further than the next mornin’ when they’re back on the road.

Bill raised an eyebrow. “You hook up with drifters?”

“Or the occasional out of towner. Not wise to hook up with too many ponies in a small town, if ya know what I mean.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” he said, then looked around. “Well, you got the room mostly dust free. Mine’s still a disaster, but I got the bed and desk, which is all I’m worried about for now.”

Applejack looked to her own desk. “I still need ta see what’s in them there binders, but I figured it could wait fer tonight.”

“Night time reader I take it?”

“Nothin’ like layin’ in bed after a hard day’s work with a good book, cold cup ‘o cider, and soakin’ yer hooves in epsom salt before driftin’ off to sleep fer the next day of work.”

He shook his head. “Crazy. I hope you’re not gonna try to hold me up to some sort of crazy standard like that.”

Stepping up to him, Applejack gave his thigh a pat. “Naw, a scrawny thing like you would bust like a twig.”

Bill gasped, eyebrows raised high and mouth open in shock. He watched her trot to her bedroom door and open it.

“Well? Come on, Skinny. Let’s go check this contraption of yer human ingenuity.”

Then, she walked out, tail brushing her door as she turned and left.

Bill was left standing there, and then his mouth closed, lips forming a small smile as he shook his head.

“This is going to be an interesting time, that’s for certain.”

He slowly walked out after her, leaving her door open.

6: 4x4, Side by Side, and a Map

Bill walked outside the garage, Applejack standing there, right forehoof tapping on the concrete with a metallic click at each strike.

“What?” he asked.

She raised a brow at him.

“Oh come on, what sort of hurry are we really in?”

“Tha sooner we figure things out, the sooner we go home.”

“Yeah, but if you hurry too much, things can go wrong. If we were stranded in the middle of the woods with no supplies or shelter, that would be one thing.” He waved his hands towards the garage. “As you can see, we’re good on all of the above.”

Taking a deep breath, Applejack closed her eyes. “Fine. Good point, but I don’t wanna get too comfy here.”

“Yeah, I feel that. Okay, so what do we have?”

Bill walked past Applejack, looking at the vehicle.

“Well, this looks possibly military, but not U.S.”

“U.S?”

“The country I’m from. No, I’d say this looks Russian, probably, but my knowledge on foreign vehicles is limited. Now bikes, on the other hand…”

Looking back to the mare, Bill’s smile slowly disappeared at Applejack’s confused expression.

“Right, never mind. Okay, let’s take a look.”

This time, Applejack walked along with him as Bill inspected the exterior of the vehicle.

“Tires look good, spare too.” He kicked one of the tires.

“What’s this here?” Applejack pointed to some white painted numbers and letters above the wheel.

Bill ran his hand over the steel, wiping old mud off to see it more clearly.

“170 KPA? Oh, duh, that’s probably for the inflation pressure of the tires.”

“Never heard ‘o KPA.”

“It’s probably something foreign.”

“Right, and ya don’t know much fer foreign.”

“Right.” Bill walked away from that wheel, then tapped his hand on the canvas top. “Some sort of fabric top, feels weatherproof and still good. I can see a roll cage under it so that’s good.”

He peered inside through the back door window. “Oh hey, there’s some stuff in here.”

Opening the door, Bill reached inside, then instantly groaned. “Woah, this bag is fricking heavy.”

Pulling it out, he set it on the ground beside Applejack, then went back inside to investigate.

“Huh, the steering wheel is on the left, that’s good. It’s also a manual transmission, and… oh huh, differential lock? All wheel drive? Oh sweet, this thing is looking like a real off-road vehicle.”

“That’s good,” Applejack said between her teeth, fighting the zipper of the bag, “who had tha idear to use whatever this is instead of snaps ‘nd buckles?”

Bill looked to the mare. “Having trouble with our fancy human advancements in sports bags?”

Spitting out the zipper, and now open flap, Applejack glared at the human. “Watch it, buster.”

“Hey, equal rights, equal fights.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring as Bill investigated the vehicle further, now moving to the front seats.

Sitting on the concrete, she began to pull items out. The first thing was a baseball style cap which had the mare grinning. Mostly red save for a white front, it had lettering on it, legible amazingly, but she had never heard of Sneed’s, and honestly didn’t care. She simply wove her ponytail through the back hole and slid it on over her head. Not the same as her cowpony hat, but for now it brought about some sense of comfort to her.

The next things out of the bag were two boxes, one more square, while the other was rectangular.

The square box opened easily, and was full of small plastic plugs, with brass caps on them. She set that one down, and after fighting to figure out the rectangular box with hooves, gave up and moved on.

This item, whatever it was, was inside of a leather case, but the black rubber like grip and some polished stainless steel, or maybe chrome, showed. Unlike the stupid bag, this did have a buckle and snap, as well as a loop on the other side. Undoing the small leather strap snap, she was able to remove the thing, gripping the rubber in her mouth to effortlessly slide it out.

Bill walked around the corner of the vehicle, right as Applejack did this, and now had the tubular end pointed right at him.

“HOLY SHIT!”

Bill dove back around the vehicle.

Applejack raised a brow, then through occupied mouth mumbled some form of the word “what?”

Slowly, he poked his head around the vehicle.

“Okay, do me a favor please, and put that thing down. I know we’re having fun at each other’s expense, but that’s a bit too much for me.”

She slid the device back into the leather holder. “Sorry, but what’s got you so spooked?”

Bill blinked. “That,” he pointed down at it, “is a gun. You know, a hole plugger as Flint termed it.”

“What kind ‘o holes does it plug?”

Staring at her like she’d grown another head, Bill slapped his own cheek.

“Oh. You really don’t know what that is, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, okay, so for sake of simplicity and not causing bodily harm, that is a weapon, and if misused can and will hurt or kill you or someone else.”

Applejack blinked, looking down at the gun again.

“That thing? Sure it’s heavy, but I doubt it could do much than give a pony a headache.”

Bill opened his mouth to retort, then seeming to think differently, marched over towards her. Picking up the holstered gun, he withdrew it, pulled back a small slide and flicked the whole gun so a cylinder popped to the left side. Satisfied with seeing six little brass circles, he flicked it back, rocked the gun so it clicked, then looked around.

“See that small rotten fence over there?”

“Yeah?”

“Watch the first post on the right.”

Curious, Applejack watched the human face in the direction of the fence, shifted his body, shoulders forward, right leg sliding back a few inches, pulled the weapon up so it was level with his head, arms extended but not fully with some bend in the elbows still.

Then, suddenly Applejack’s world was a loud ringing in her ears as she clutched them over her head with her hooves.

At the same time, her eyes had watched the top section of the wooden post positively explode, the rotten wood crumbling down to the ground, causing the highest connecting board to lean down, dislodge from the next post in line, and fall to the ground.

Bill turned back to her, then pointed the gun at the ground, finger off the trigger.

“This is a gun. A weapon. It is also a tool. So, if you ever see something like this? Use caution.”

Applejack worked her still ringing ears, massaging her head.

“Right, I kinda forgot about… the safety practice of that. My bad, I’m just so used to shooting.” He began to pick at his ear with a pinkie finger.

“What… what the hay just happened?” Applejack finally asked, watching as Bill holstered the gun once more, securing the snap.

“Guns like this shoot bullets, inside of a brass or steel tube, full of gunpowder and a primer cap at the base. It’s usually how we protect ourselves, others, or do crime.”

“That was like no sound I ever heard b’fore. Gosh my ears hurt.” I guess I were sorta right, did give me a good headache.

“Honestly you get used to it after a while. You’ll also be deaf by the time you’re forty like my father.”

As he was about to replace the gun on the ground, he stopped, staring at the mare. “Found a hat? What’s Sneed’s Seed and Feed?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

“Alright, can’t fault that logic. So now what else is in this bag?”

Kneeling down, he set the revolver to the side with the boxes, then reached in and withdrew the last thing in the bag.

“Oh, wow this is… weird.”

Applejack, no longer deaf (although ears still lightly ringing), looked at the long item in his hands. “That another gun?”

“Yeah,” he turned it in his hands, “but someone’s heavily modified it.”

He looked at Applejack, then down at her hooves, and back to the gun. “Oh, that makes sense.”

“What?”

“Well, this is a shotgun, which is designed to shoot multiple smaller pellets out of a shell, instead of one single bullet per casing. This is also a double barrel, so you have two shots, then reload. It’s also an exposed hammer, which is kind of old technology. But seeing how they cut off the trigger guard, lengthened both triggers and off set them to the side slightly, maybe they hoped for an added sense of security? Anyway, someone heavily modified this.”

“Fer what reason?”

“Well, you’re not gonna get your hooves in a small area like a trigger guard, and having external hammers acts like a secondary safety, although not really but whatever. Mix all of that with a cut down barrel, I’d say someone took a gun meant for us humans, and made it so a pony could wield this thing.”

Applejack looked at the shotgun closer, noting how the modifications he mentioned didn’t look at all normal, clear welding marks on the triggers and rough edges at the barrel end.

Bill flicked a lever on the back, and cracked open the gun. Seeing no shells, he closed it, then handed it to the mare.

Cautiously, she took it in her hooves. It felt weird, like she should be carrying it like a club.

“Uh, how do I…?”

Rolling his eyes, he asked for it back.

“You hold it like this,” he braced the wooden stock in his right shoulder, “place a hand, or hoof for you, on this forward grip,” he did so, grasping the wood. “Be mindful not to touch the steel, because repeated shooting makes heat, and it will get hot. Then, normally this hand grabs the stock here, and you have your finger at the trigger.

“There’s a bunch of safety practices I’m skipping, but we’ll go over those later, I’ll show you. Anyway, line up the shot, aim down the barrel, then shoot.”

He handed the gun to her again, and this time she tried as he’d shown.

She had it almost figured out, but she wouldn’t be able to hold it standing, that was for sure. Or at least not without some practice and experimenting.

Shaking her head, she placed it beside the other gun. “Don’t know why I’d need use for such a thing.”

“Got no clue, but one of those two ponies before us did.”

That was an excellent point, Applejack mused, and I’ll have to figure that one out when the time arises.

“Well, now that that’s done, the only other things I’ve figured out about this vehicle is that the data tag calls it a UAZ-469, and most everything else I can’t read.” Bill walked over, opening the front right door. “There is a radio and mic, but the battery’s dead, so maybe tonight if I can find a charger, or a spare new battery, I can have that going so it’s ready for tomorrow. It’s otherwise pretty clean, some old dried muddy prints, but it’s empty-”

Suddenly the passenger side visor fell down, and a folded piece of paper fell onto the seat.

Applejack looked at the paper, then to Bill, brow raised.

“Okay, when I saw the key in the ignition, I didn’t even think to check the visors.”

Applejack’s brow rose slightly higher.

“Stop that.”

Now she was smirking.

“And that, look okay let’s see what it is,” Bill said with a huff, reaching in and grabbing the folded paper, then showing it to Applejack. “This looks a lot like a map.”

Opening it, sure enough it was a map, and Bill looked at it curiously.

“Well, this is interesting.”

Stepping beside the taller figure, he squatted down low so Applejack could also see.

“Oh hey, look, there’s the garage.”

“Yeah, but the rest of this map is just blank. I don’t… wait, hang on…”

Bill placed a finger on the map where the garage was, then started dragging it along a small line, and then tapped the map.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the path I took walking here, cause there’s the river. Wild, it… shows where I traveled?”

Applejack looked on the opposite side of the garage, and blinked in surprise.

“Well I’ll be, there’s mine too.”

Flipping the map backwards, Bill examined it. “I don’t get it, it’s like, it’s showing us specific areas we’ve seen.”

“And the rest is all covered up? I’ve read in stories where unicorn’s made maps like this fer hidin’ treasure.”

Bill hummed, then started pointing to other notes on the map. “Well, there are a few spots marked here. Fuel? Huh, must be a storage place for gas. Sawmill? There’s three of them.”

“Lookie here, Lumberyard. And there be two of those.”

“Oh, oh! Watchtowers! There’s… wow several of those, but look, here, between us and the mountain!”

“That’s gotta be where Flint is!” Applejack said excitedly.

“Okay, so we actually have something to work off of. Great.”

They looked the map over for another few minutes, then once confident there was nothing else to learn, Bill folded it and placed it in the bag, and started to add the other items back inside.

“So we now have a plan for Flint,” Applejack began, then looking at the building she continued, “I say, before we make any decisions on the loggin’ stuff, we get his input. Might have something to add, or argue with us.”

“Can’t hurt to ask him,” Bill stretched and yawned. “But man, tomorrow. I’m going to bed early, and maybe we can get an early start tomorrow.

Applejack agreed heartedly with an enthusiastic nod. “Fer sure! Early ta bed, early ta rise!”

He shook his head with mirth, and grabbing the bag he and the mare began walking back towards the garage.

7: Where the Pavement Ends...

Applejack’s nose wiggled, smelling something cooking.

It was a basic smell, mostly of oats and steam.

And at these sudden smells, her empty stomach decided to tell her, quite loudly, that it would be worth going and investigating this.

Shoving the green sheet off of herself, she sat up, rubbing her eyes with a hoof as she looked around.

The faintest traces of morning sunlight danced through the thin blinds, illuminating enough that she could see the wind up clock on the end table at the head of her bed.

She didn’t actually know what time it was, but using a rough guess of where the sun was, plus feeling the ground and what season the plants told her (those willing to, anyway) , she’d set the clock accordingly. When Bill had retrieved her after both of their showers, she had gone along with 7pm.

Currently the clock was showing about 8am, and with how bright it already was getting to be, she was confident in at least being within a half hour of the actual time. That being said, the first thing to pop into her mind was disappointment.

“Drats, slept in.”

Not a normal practice for the mare, however it did happen from time to time.

Rolling out of bed, she firstly went to the bathroom door and knocked. When there was no answer, she entered, leaving her door open but locking Bill’s door, and proceeded to relieve herself and freshen up.

Once done there, she returned to her room and began doing some simple stretches, all the while feeling and hearing joints crack and muscles loosen. Her stomach protested the delay, but this was an important part of her regime, and her gut could wait a few extra minutes. Each time a joint popped or a muscle strained, her ears twitched and she felt all the more awake.

At one point during her abs and barrel stretches, with her hind legs laid flat and hips resting on a pillow, she glanced over to the desk. Her forward half was supported up with her forelegs straight, giving her ample view of its contents.

One binder was now placed at the center, still closed, where she left it to read, before giving up to the constant yawning and droopy eyes, choosing to go to bed.

A slight frown graced her lips, but she pushed the problem to the side. Wrapping up her morning stretches, she tossed the pillow back onto the bed and quickly made it, fixing the sheets so everything was tidy once more. Walking to the bedside table, she grabbed the two red scrunchie hair bands and walked back into the bathroom. Fishing out the previously used comb brush, she began the ritual of brushing her tail, applying the scrunchie, and followed suit with her mane.

Satisfied, she made for the bedroom door, retrieving the hat which she’d placed on one of the low hanging hooks near the light switch. Fishing her ponytail through the opening on the back, she assured it was snugly fit before opening her bedroom door.

The hallway still looked the same as it had yesterday, and she opted to leave her bedroom door open. Walking down the hall, she noticed Bill had done the same with his door. Nearing the common area, the smell of cooked oats was stronger, and made her tummy growl more feverishly.

There, she found Bill, sitting at the table and eating from a bowl with a spoon. He was better dressed, ready to take on the day. The same, or maybe a different white T shirt was there, but over top it was an unbuttoned blue and white plaid shirt. He wore a pair of long, dark blue jeans, going down to his feet which were covered with white socks. Near the table were a pair of black sneakers, unlaced and ready to be installed.

“Mornin’, Bill,” Applejack said cheerily.

Bill, who’d watched her once she was in sight, grunted a hello while he shoveled another spoonful of slop into his mouth.

Heh, not a mornin’ pony.

Entering the kitchen area, the mare saw a bowl similar to Bill’s on the counter, with a box of what she’d guess to be oats beside it.

Throughout all of this morning, however, one thing eluded her, and it was time to voice the concern.

“Where’s the-”

“No coffee grounds.”

Applejack froze in place, mouth open, eyes wide but pupils small, as those three words bounced around in her head like mini explosions of that gun from yesterday. She kicked her forelegs up, resting her hooves on the counter edge, looking over to Bill.

The man never moved, save for hand down, spoon in bowl, lift to mouth, open and eat, repeat. He continued to stare off into the distance, down the hall.

After several repeated steps, he paused his eating.

“I found filters, we have both an electric coffee maker and a heat percolator for either the stove top or wood burner. There’s packets of powdered milk, sugar, vanilla and cinnamon.” Slowly, Bill listed off these items while counting on his fingers. “There is a waxed jar of honey, a bottle of apple cider vinegar, and I even think there's a small bottle of almond amarillo. And don’t forget all the fucking vodka in the fridge…”

By now, Applejack was in the process of pouring what she confirmed to be oats into a pot of water, intending to boil them until ready. However, hearing Bill rattle off these items, dread filled the mare’s head as she didn’t hear the one thing that truly mattered.

“...and to top it all off,” Bill finally dropped his spoon into his nearly empty bowl, allowing the glass and steel contact to rattle loudly, “no. Fucking. Coffee.”

“Well…” Applejack stirred the oats, “that sucks.”

“I can skip a day, if I’m in a hurry, but two days in a row without coffee? I’m probably gonna die.”

Rolling her eyes, Applejack turned off the stove and picked up the pot with her hooves, placing it onto the ground where she could easily pour the contents into the clean bowl.

Once satisfied, she rinsed the pot in the sink for future cleaning, then holding the bowl with one forehoof she three legged walked to the table to join Bill.

The whole time, he watched her intently, spoonful of oats half way to his face as he stared.

She placed the bowl on the table, then pulled out the chair and hopped up, sitting down and began blowing on her oats to cool.

Bill continued to stare, and Applejack raised an eyebrow. “What?”

The human placed his spoon back into the bowl, then cleared his throat. “Okay, so yesterday my crazy meter was pinged to bending. Now it is a new day, we’re back to zero. So, first that bullshit with you picking things up with those hooves, and now you can just walk on three legs like it’s nothing? What gives?”

Applejack stared at the human like he was crazy, which admittedly, he probably was.

Which also meant, sadly, so as she.

“I dunno, just a pony thing.” She leaned forward, and began lapping at her oats with her tongue.

“Oh no, none of that now. Here,” Bill said, wiping off his spoon on his shirt, he slid it to her. “I wanna see this.”

Raising her face from her bowl, the apple mare shrugged, picked up the spoon with her hoof, then proceeded to eat with it.

Bill stood, leaning over the table to stare at her closer, mere inches away from her bowl as he watched her hoof impossibly hold onto the spoon.

Suddenly, he pointed a finger at her. “That? That’s bullshit.”

“Naw,” Applejack said with oats in her mouth, then swallowed and continued, “what’s bullshit is when it decides to not work. That’s embarrassin’.”

“What, like when a guy has E-D?”

“E-D?”

“You know, can’t get it up to perform.”

Applejack blinked, then snorted a laugh. “Wow, that’s some real table talk there.”

Bill returned to his seat, arms crossed over his chest. “It was the first thing that came to mind, sue me.”

“Naw, seems like ya ain’t got nothin’ worth gettin’ fer all the trouble.”

A shry whistle made the mare’s ears twitch, and she looked to Bill who’s lips were puckered amidst a whistle.

“Dayum, a girl you may be, but no lady.”

Applejack placed the spoon into her now empty bowl. “Well, when ya nab tha bathroom b’fore the mare, that’s what ya get.”

“Cold shoulder. So, what, I just gotta treat you like a lady and you’ll be one?”

“Naw, then I’ll just kick yer teeth in.” Applejack took her bowl, and his, stacked them, and mimicked her earlier three legged stride into the kitchen.

“Okay, now you’re just messing with me.”

“Yeah, and I gotta say, it’s a lot ‘o fun.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Bill leaned back in his chair.

“Feel better?” Applejack asked while rinsing the bowls and spoon.

“Surprisingly, yes. You riled me up on purpose, didn’t you?”

“O’ course, works on mah brother, too.”

“Of course.” Bill slapped his face, wiping both palms up and down, then ran them through his short brown hair, messing it up further.

At least I know he don’t use the brush, might just keep it in my room.

“So,” Bill started, looking around then to the mare, “Flint, or should I say Mister Mclintock, radioed earlier, asked about the gun shot from last night. Told him what was up, we had the map, and hopefully we’ll be finding him sometime today.”

“Great, I suppose ya got the battery taken care of?”

“Yeah, the one in it was toast, but shocker, I found one in the back room. It’s on a bench being charged, so once you’re ready, we can go out, put it in, and fire that little truck up.”

Placing the four washed items onto a dry rack, Applejack wiped her hooves on a small towel below the sink, then walked out of the kitchen.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With a groan, Bill stood, and began to put on the shoes, lacing them with ease.

Standing back up, Bill looked at a smirking Applejack. “What, at least I can take mine off without a hammer!”

Still sporting her smile, the mare picked up a hoof, and suddenly the iron shoe on that hoof fell to the floor with a clatter. Then, she lowered the hoof back onto the shoe, and gave it a couple experimental taps with the shoe attached once more. She grinned at him.

Bill pointed his finger at her again. “Bull. Shit.”

Finally, Applejack laughed. “I ain’t had nailed on shoes since I were a little filly. Once ya can start to control yer magic enough, most ponies opt out fer magic shoes that sorta glue on, but can be removed easily enough. My brother still has his nailed on, but he’s also larger than a normal pony, and works a lot harder.”

Walking past the mare, Bill didn’t stop pointing at her, and repeated himself, “Bull. Shit.”

With a shake of her head, Applejack followed him down the hall and into the shop, where the inventory lights were still on.

Against the far wall near the lift, several work tables and benches were set up. Bill approached one, which had a black box looking item with two lead posts on top, and was connected with clamps and wires to a box which hummed.

“Okay, looks like it’s barely drawing any amps, so I’d say it’s good.” Turning off the machine, he removed the clamps from the top posts.

“Huh, that’s a battery? Kinda big, ain’t it?”

Grabbing both sides of the battery and holding it away from himself, Bill began walking towards the open garage door. It was currently propped only half way open with a large stick.

“Most vehicles have them about this size. What was weird though was I had to service it.”

“Service it?”

“Yeah, it was dry, no acid. Had to add it, then charge it for a while. I’ve only ever done that with classic car batteries.”

“Why?”

“Storage, I guess.”

They reached the vehicle, the hood already open as Bill went around to the right side of the vehicle, near the hood’s hinge.

“So what’s a battery like from your place?”

Applejack placed her forehooves on the front of the vehicle, watching as Bill placed the battery into a box, sized perfectly to house it.

“Lot smaller. Usually it’s just a gemstone enchanted by a unicorn, but I don’t use ‘em fer much. Can be useful though.”

Bill laughed. “Damn, that would be neat to see. Gemstone, eh? So, what, you just take something expensive and turn it into something useful?”

Tilting her head, she watched him connect two wires to the two posts.

“Expensive? Naw, gemstones ‘re a bit a dozen.”

“Really? So do you have valuable materials? Gold, silver?”

“Our currency is based around gold, silver, copper, ‘dn tin, which is most valuable to least. Otherwise, usually the only things worth value are cursed items or spell books. Again, not really into all that nonsense.”

“Right, right. Okay, I think we’re ready now.”

Walking around the front, past Applejack, he opened the front door and sat inside.

“Say, stay out there for a minute, and let me know if you see anything wrong.”

Applejack gave him a minute to process what he said, then she leaned her head over, past the hood to stare at him with a raised brow.

“Yeah, I know, I just realized it too. Just… if you see any fluids shooting out of anywhere, or parts obviously falling off, let me know.”

“Right.”

Bill turned the key, and the engine began cranking.

Applejack watched as the engine moved, components rotating, a fan like object moving, and it was a lot louder than she expected.

“Oh, hang on, one of these is probably the choke.”

He pulled on something, and she watched a mechanical linkage move. He tried to start it again, and this time the vehicle got much louder, and began to rumble, sounding like it should.

I guess so, anyway?

“Yeah there we go, now to just ease it back.”

Slowly, the vehicle began to run smoother and smoother, until it was quiet and only gently vibrating, occasionally rocking slightly.

Bill got out and joined Applejack at the front, looking around.

“Seems to be okay to me.”

“This is sure somethin’ else, Bill.”

“One of the pinnacle inventions of us humans. They’re one of our greatest tools, and one day they’ll destroy our planet.”

Applejack looked at the human curiously.

He simply waved his hand, “Don’t worry about it. I threw that bag from yesterday on the back seat, and got the map on the dash. Ready to go?”

“Sure!”

Stepping down and off the vehicle, Applejack watched Bill close the hood with a slam, then making sure it was secure. Once happy, he walked her to the right side, opening the door.

“Just hop on in I guess.”

She did so with ease, finding the seat to be fairly cushiony.

Closing the door, Bill walked to the other side, got in, and closed his door.

“Alright, comfy?” he asked.

Nestling her back into the seat, she nodded.

"Good. No seatbelts, so I guess we hope we don't roll this thing."

"Not real sure how I'd strap m'self in anyway. Seat ain't really shaped fer me."

“Eh, technicalities. Alright, so, we got a four speed manual, five if you count reverse. That’s the gears it can go through, direction, and speed we can move.”

“Alright.”

“Also has a two speed transfer case for all wheel drive, so instead of just two wheels propelling us, all four will. Not a thing on all vehicles, but for more off road ones it’s sometimes critical.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

“And lastly, lever here for differential lock, which allows the wheels to spin together, instead of one faster than the other. I’m a bit fuzzy on how that works, something to do with gears, traction, and rotation, but I had that on my quad before I lost it in the lake and it was great for gripping the mud and dirt.”

“So this here vehicle’s set fer rough stuff.”

“Yeah, so we should have no problem getting anywhere we need to go. Also, now I can test this out.”

Bill reached for a hanging microphone, attached to a radio which was mounted to the center of the dash, and keyed the mic.

“Hey, McLintock, can you hear me?”

It took about a minute, but the radio came to life with some static.

“Sorry, was drainin’ the old water bag. Yeah, you’re a little lost in the buzz, guessin’ yer in that there little four wheeler?”

“Yeah, got it started up. We’re about to head out and see if we can find a way to you.”

“Ten-four. Got that little lady with ya ridin’ shotgun?”

“Yeah, she’s here too.”

“Alright, stay loaded, over and out.”

“Loaded?”

Bill shrugged. “Beats me, half of the stuff he said this morning didn’t make sense. So, are you cool with being a navigator?”

He pulled the folded map from the dash, then handed it over. Applejack took it between her hooves, then began opening it.

“Sure." Once opened, Applejack studied it for a minute, then tapped a hoof on the paper. "So, I say pull out of here, turn right, and follow this road fer as long as we can.”

“Got it.”

The feeling of the vehicle lurching under Applejack made her jump slightly, and eyes go big. She was so used to seeing a pony’s behind pulling a wagon or cart, having nothing ahead pulling them forward was a whole new experience.

“Amazin’. All on its own.”

“Yeah. Okay, so there is a little blacktop road here, and you said follow it until it ends?”

“Yeah, lookin’ at this here map, it should only be-”

“It ends.”

Putting on the brakes gently, the vehicle came to a stop barely fifty feet from where they had started.

“Huh, on here it looks like it’s longer.”

“I bet that’s what they all say.”

Applejack stuck out her tongue. “Hush, you. Alright, so some of this map is openin’ up fer us, so yeah, fer now just follow this here two track.”

“Sounds good. Looks like just dirt to me, agreed?”

Applejack nodded, and so moving the vehicle forward they continued at a quick click, faster than any pony pulled carriage at least, along a dirt path.

8: ...and the Blood Begins

They had driven maybe a hundred feet when they found the first patch of mud.

It wasn’t too bad, Bill placing the vehicle into four wheel drive, and they crawled along smoothly. Applejack watched with amusement as mud was flung from the tires and against the vehicle’s side, including her window.

She was immensely grateful for not having to pull a cart or wagon through something this mucky.

Following along the map, and looking out the windshield, it was evident that the current path they drove upon started winding to the left, away from where they were intending to go. Nearing the bend, Applejack spied a small path branching to the right and hopefully towards Flint.

“Say, Bill, look over there. Another set ‘o tracks, might be more direct?”

“Yeah, sure, this thing has been plugging along like a champ. Can’t be that bad.”

Turning the wheel to the right hard, they were just crawling into it, when suddenly the front end dropped, sending Applejack into the dash with a cry. Then the vehicle leaned to the right, and nearly took Bill out of his seat.

“Oh shit!”

Acting quickly, the human gripped onto the steering wheel with dear life.

So focused he was, he let the foot off the gas, and the little vehicle started jumping until the engine stalled.

“Fuck!” Bill shouted, smacking the steering wheel with a fist, then peered to his companion. “Are you okay?”

Applejack was currently face down into the floor, with her flanks sticking up in the air, legs on the seat and tail thrashing angrily.

“Yeah, yeah, just some warnin’ woulda been nice.”

“You and me both. Need a hand?”

“Not where I want ya gropin’ me.”

Even with the situation they were in, Bill couldn’t help letting a small chuckle escape.

As the mare righted herself on the seat, Bill pressed in the clutch and started the vehicle again, placing it into first gear, low on the transfer case, and tried to crawl forward.

The little 469 slowly started to crawl forward, just enough to get the last rear wheel down into the rut, which leveled the vehicle.

And also stopped it’s movement, wheels spinning. He shifted another lever, the differential lock, and tried again. The vehicle crawled a few inches, and once again stopped, wheels spinning in place.

Placing the vehicle into neutral, Bill spoke aloud. “Hm. I think I should have tried to back up there.”

“Ya think?” Applejack said with a tad agitation, stomping a forehoof onto the padded seat. “These were not made with ponies in mind. Only pony I know who could sit like you is Lyra, but she’s weird.”

“Weird?”

“Don’t ask, trust me.”

“Alright, but now I want to.”

“Later,” Applejack said, then let out a deep breath. “So, we’re stuck.”

Bill drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “It would appear so.”

Shoot. If we’d just stuck to the path, maybe… With a sigh, Applejack found what she assumed to be the door handle, and pulled it back.

The door released with a clunk, and she tried to push it open, but there was resistance.

“Land sakes, how stuck are we?” She tried to peer over the door edge through the window, but she couldn’t see just how deep they were.

Bill tried his side with more success, and swung the door open. “We did tip on your side, so might just be stuck.”

Swinging his legs out, the mud was only a few inches from the bottom of the door, so he braced his hands on either side of the open door frame, and stepped out.

And immediately regretted it.

“Oh fuck.”

“Bill?”

“Uh… well, glad we got cleaned up yesterday.”

“That bad?”

The human struggled to shimmy himself out. Once confident, he stood. The mud came up to his knees, staining his jeans. The confidence was short lived.

“I’m not sure which of us are going to have the worst time,” Bill said as he tried to take a step.

After several grunts, and using the vehicle as support, he finally withdrew his right foot.

Minus one black sneaker.

“Well that sucks.”

With nowhere else to step, he reluctantly placed his shoeless foot into the mud, further away from the vehicle, and started to pull his left foot out.

This one came out also shoeless.

“I think I made an error.”

“Just one?” Applejack called from the driver's seat, sitting with a smug look.

“I’m sorry, but this is new to me, okay? I’m not a city boy, but I still have a Starbucks less than fifteen minutes from my house by foot. And before you say anything, Starbucks is a big name chain of coffee shops.”

“I weren’t gonna say a thing.”

“Exacactly, you sass with your stupid eyebrows.”

Applejack raised a brow.

“Like that! Stop judging me, and help me, I can’t reach anything and I’m going to fall over.”

With a resigned sigh, and the knowledge that she was about to get very muddy, Applejack quickly removed her tail scrunchie, tied her tail into a bun, then put the scrunchie around with the other on her mane.

And then she jumped, landing as far as she could, which was a few feet past Bill.

She landed on slightly harder ground, although there was still water and muck kicked up as she splashed. Lifting each hoof, she could walk through this with relative ease.

“Alright, now let me just…”

Turning around, Applejack did everything in her power to hold back righteous laughter.

Her landing had kicked back mud and water, splashing it all over Bill, who stood there, arms at his sides, and a dejected look on his muddy face.

“That… snerk… were an accident, promise.”

“Of course it was. Just, help me please?”

Applejack nodded, then undid her tail bun, re-tied it with the scrunchie, then backed up as far as she could, and flicked her tail at the human.

“Alright, grab on tight.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, my tail is about as strong as my legs, and I have more freedom with it. Now grab on.”

With another flick, Bill reached out and grabbed her tail just below the scrunchie.

“I swear, if this amounts to anything sexual, I’m leaving you here alone.”

“Naw, tail pullin’ is my friend Rainbow’s thing, she just don’t like to let ponies know.”

“I don’t even know her, and I still wish I didn’t know that.”

“Yer fault. Now grip tight and hang on.”

He did so, and Applejack started pulling, digging her hooves into the mud, slowly but surely pulling Bill out, to the point he could pick his feet up with less effort.

By the time they hit somewhat solid ground, Bill was now two sneakers and one sock down.

“Ya good now?” Applejack asked, standing next to a kneeling Bill.

“Yeah, that was just a lot. I didn’t do any exercises or runs this morning. I didn’t expect to be doing… this.”

Both stood there, about 25 feet from the vehicle, as it continued to burn gas and have the front door wide open.

“Fuck I forgot to turn it off.”

“Is that bad?”

“Yeah, it burns gasoline to run, and if it just sits there all day it will run out, and I don’t know where we even find anymore besides on that map.”

“Well, is there anythin’ else we can use ta pull it out?”

Bill scratched his head. “Yeah, there’s an electric wench on both bumpers, but I don’t see a damn thing close enough to hook to.” He looked around at the mostly open area, save for the trees that spread out a hundred or so feet away.

“If I had a harness, I could probably help with it.”

“Of course you could.”

Applejack looked up at the human, brow raised and smirk on her face. “Is that a challenge?”

“No, but you look like you want it to be.”

Both stood there, quiet, staring each other down, or in Applejack’s case, up.

“We also left the map in there,” Bill added.

“Nuts ‘nd shoes.”

Bill started looking around. “Well, do you think maybe this path does lead anywhere?”

“Well, how tha map looked, I figured this path either took us t’wards Flint, or maybe that collapsed buildin’ he mentioned.”

Bill snapped his fingers. “Oh, right, I forgot about that. Good call, other than… that.”

For the first time, Applejack’s ears laid flat.

“Not that this is your fault! Just, we didn’t know. So, let's try to follow this, see where it goes?”

“Yeah,” Applejack said, then started walking.

“Hey, Jackie.”

The mare stopped, ears perked, and she turned her head to look back.

“It’s alright. Not. Your. Fault.”

Applejack stood there while Bill, heavy footed and mud covered, made his way beside her and gave the top of her mane a pat with his hand. Afterwards, he kept walking. “Now come on, slow poke. I got two less legs than you and I’m still moving faster.”

Shaking her head, Applejack caught up and walked side by side with the human.

—-------

An unknown time, and unknown distance later, both were now walking on solid ground, a gravel like two track leading them through the woods. Up ahead, it opened up, and Applejack was the first to notice a structure ahead.

“That must be it,” she said.

Bill nodded, and the two continued walking.

“How’re yer feet holdin’ up?”

Before he could respond, he cursed, kicking his left foot, sending a small pebble off into the grass.

I never realized how sensitive a creature’s paws, or feet, could be. Makes me take my hooves fer granted.

Exiting the forest, they found there were actually two structures.

Closest to them was a small house, trees hiding it from view on the back side. It looked run down and abandoned, but still standing with an apparent solid roof on top. Past that was a half collapsed barn, and a large truck partly covered with a green canvas tarp.

“Do you think we are lucky enough?” Bill asked.

“Maybe. I say we check tha barn ferst. If I can find a harness, we can get tha little suv out and drive it back here.”

“Yeah, radio Flint and see if he see’s us.” Bill looked up, covering his eyes. “Sun’s about all the way up, so it has to be around noon or so. I did pack the rest of those crackers so we had a snack.”

“That’s good, cause after all that walkin’ I’m gettin’ a might peckish.”

To prove her point, the mare leaned down and took a mouthful of grass, munching on it as she cringed. “And this here grass ain’t tha best.”

Chuckling, “At least you can just do that. I can’t eat grass, so I’m on the road to food issues.”

“Well, fer now, let’s check the barn.”

“Okay.”

The two walked past the house, entering somewhat of a clearing. Applejack looked around, but couldn’t see much of anything besides trees, and the tall peak of the mountain behind the structures.

Suddenly, a blinding light flashed her, causing her to stop and rub her eyes.

“Applejack?”

“Dunno, somethin’ just blinded me fer a second.”

Bill looked around, then towards the mountain.

“Well, I’ll be. I found Flint.”

“What?” Applejack looked around.

Bill leaned down, squatting, and using his right arm and hand, helped point out something in the distance.

A small bit of light was being reflected from the sun, getting their attention.

Applejack waved, so did Bill.

“I can’t even see the damn tower, but my bet is that’s Flint letting us know we’re on the right track.”

“And he ain’t shot us with his… uh, gun I guess?”

“Yeah, so that’s good. Damn, if he could see all this from there, and now us? That must be one good scope.”

After a minute, the reflected light stopped, and once again they saw nothing but trees.

“That’s a lot further than I thought by the map,” Applejack said dejectedly.

“Yeah, so much for a day’s trip.” Bill started walking back towards the barn.

Applejack followed, and as they neared the large truck, Bill turned toward it.

“Why don’t you go ahead?” he said, then, “I’m going to check this out first, maybe it has something to make the job easier.”

“Gotcha.”

Walking towards the large doors, the barn’s back half was clearly collapsed in, making it a wonder to the mare how the front half was still standing. Reaching for the door, she gingerly opened it, sliding to the right, and the door opened with a long, continuous creaking sound.

The afternoon sun shone brightly inside, through the half missing roof, showing Applejack not much of anything inside.

Stepping ahead, she began looking around, searching wooden crates (empty), metal pails (empty too), and nearing the debris of the collapse, she found two stalls.

She’d never seen stalls this huge before, sure they had them for some of the animals on her farm, but whatever was housed in these must have been massive.

Peeking inside one, she found nothing but moldy old hay and a discarded bucket. Across from it, is where she struck paydirt.

Inside were several different items. Old leather halters, mostly molded and with rusted buckles, some mouth bits half rotten, and lastly, pegged onto the wall, and amazingly spared the weathering of time by a sturdy shelf above, was a great big harness.

Picking it up, it was heavy, about the same as her brothers, but this one was also much larger. To properly use it, she’d need to make an insert for it to take up some of the space. The two horns on top, while rusty, weren’t to the point of loss. She could clean them up with some sandpaper, throw on some grease, and they’d be just fine.

It still boggled her mind how something so large could be housed in a barn of all places, but maybe this was something about humans? Bill had mentioned horses before. Were they really this big?

If so, no wonder he finds my size so funny.

Placing the yoke around her neck, it almost drug along the ground, but if she walked tall and kept her neck up then it cleared the ground. With a final glance to the last couple spots she hadn’t searched, she walked out of the barn, just as she heard the large truck outside turning over, trying to start.

She approached, just as Bill was stepping down. He walked away and opened the cap of a tank behind the cab, towards the middle of the truck.

“Well?” Applejack asked.

“Strangely, the battery's good. Cranks over, but if the gas gauge is correct, which this thing here-” he knocked on the round tank, and Applejack heard an empty echo, “- confirms it’s empty. So, we’re kinda stuck in the mud with this one. No pun intended.”

Then, he looked at the mare, and smiled. “Well at least you seem to be successful in your pillaging.”

“Pilla- I ain’t no thief!”

“Bah, don’t think too much about it. I get the feeling no one’s been here for ages.”

She didn’t doubt it either, but now that he said it, the act still left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her gut.

“So, do you really think you can pull the truck out with that?” Bill asked, pointing at the yoke around her neck skeptically, “seems a bit big on you.”

The farm mare nodded, some of her confidence coming back. “Yeah, I ain’t as strong as my brother, but I can still outpull most every other earth pony in town when it’s rodeo season. And yeah it’s too big, but I can fix that later with some padding.”

“Huh, well if you’re sure, then shit, let's give it a shot.”

—-------

The walk back to the 469 was just as uneventful as the walk away from it, save both were in more high spirits, joking around at each other’s expense. At one point Bill tried to wear the yoke with mixed results, but many laughs.

Both stopped as the two tracks turned into muck, with the small SUV ahead of them by about twenty feet, still running, door still wide open.

“So, how do we wanna do this?” Bill asked.

Applejack looked up to him, brow raised. “Yer askin’ me?”

Bill looked down to his only remaining sock, sighed, and removed it. “Screw it. I’ll go in, get the winch, and try to pull it out as far as I can. You stay here, and we can hook up, then I’ll hop in and try to help drive it while you pull.”

“Sounds good ta me. Even if I can’t get it all the way, if we can just get it closer to them trees.”

Bill nodded, tossing the sock into the tall grass. He then attempted to roll up his pant legs, but with how crusty they were, he gave up. “Okay, here it goes.”

Sitting on the ground, the farm mare watched the human walk into the mud, at first only his feet sinking, and he took as long of strides as he could. With each step, he sank deeper and deeper, until he was half way up to his knees, and it took him several grunts to pull a foot up and out of the mud, and to try and take another step forward.

After several harrowing minutes of trudging, Bill finally arrived at the front of the vehicle, and unhooked the hook from the front bumper, then looked around the front.

“Oh come the fuck on, no way.”

“What?” Applejack called out.

He called back, “The release tab is busted off, and there’s no damn controls out here, they must be inside.”

“Well, shoot,” Applejack took off the yoke, laying it on the ground, then slowly walked forward.

Bill watched her carefully, then started to make his way around the vehicle, trying and failing to use it as support.

Much like the human had, within a few steps Applejack started sinking in the mud, well past her fetlocks. Each step, each hoof sank more and more, up to her knees, and she was still about five feet from the front.

It only now struck her she forgot to bun her tail like before, but too late for that.

By this point, Bill had activated the winch, making it uncoil. A call from the mare stopped him, just in time before it could start backrolling and bind it up.

The mud wasn’t up to her belly yet, but it was getting close, however she pressed on, just far enough she could stretch her neck out, grabbing the hook from the mud with her teeth. She started to turn around, walking forward just as slowly, until she hit a point where it was taught. Before she could mumble anything she heard the electric motor whirr to life, and the cable slacken.

Slowly, she made her way back to the edge of the worst of the mud, and just as she got onto the harder surface of the dirt two track, it went taught again, and she stopped.

“That’s it!” Bill shouted.

Applejack spat the hook onto the ground. “A’right, this should be plenty then. Lemme get hooked up, then when I hollar, go ‘head ‘nd start to crawl it.”

“Got it!” Bill yelled back, giving her a thumbs up, then climbed into the 469.

As she hooked the cable to the yoke, there came a slam of metal, and a loud curse from Bill. She looked over, and he was leaning out the top half of the door.

“Sorry,” he shouted, “didn’t know how this window exactly worked. Guess the top half of the door just sort of folds down.”

She rolled her eyes, but placed the yoke over her head and onto her neck. Standing, she walked forward just one step to where the cable was taut, then put on some more muscle as she pulled slightly.

“Holy shit, you moved it!” Bill shouted from the vehicle.

“Alright, Bill, go ‘head ‘nd start ‘er crawlin’.”

The sound of the vehicle going into gear was loud enough to make her ears twitch, she could pick up the slow, smooth rev of the engine. The last thing she saw was mud starting to fling around the wheels.

Then Applejack looked forward, lowered her head down, put pressure on the yoke with her chest, lifted a single foreleg, and pushed.

She was certain that this was one of the heaviest things she’d ever pulled, putting her own strength to the test, but slowly and surely, she took step after step, gritting her teeth and cursing in her head all the while. The normal cheering from her apple trees when she’d run a plow was absent, this forest choosing to be quiet.

“You’re doing good, Jackie!”

Although, Bill’s hollering made up for it.

Huh, when did he start callin’ me that?

A few times, she felt the tension of the cable go slack, as probably Bill would gain some traction and gain on her, but just as quickly she took a couple steps ahead to compensate, and she’d be jerked back by it going immobile again.

Her iron shoes dug into the dirt with each step, doing their job of both traction and protection.

Finally, as the mare started to near the treeline, Bill honked the horn, and Applejack stopped. The cable lost it’s tension, and it laid upon her back. Panting heavily, she sat, then laid down on the dirt and gravel pathway, trying to calm her breaths.

Without looking, her ears twitched as she heard the door open, and soft feet make their way towards her.

“Hey, Jackie, you okay?”

She didn’t look at him, just nodded, still trying to calm herself down.

Suddenly, his hand rested on her shoulder, and the other hand on the underside of her head.

Huh, when did I lay down on my side?

“Hang on, girl, I gotchu.”

Carefully, Bill removed the harness, tossing it to the side.

“Do you need a minute? Or, like, twenty?”

Applejack shook her head, then as her breathing calmed, she righted herself, laying on her stomach.

Bill then handed her, of all things, a vodka bottle. She gave him a funny look.

"I found a few empties, filled them with water from the kitchen."

Nodding in thanks, she twisted the top off and with both hooves tipped the bottle back and greedily drank from it.

Sighing with relief, she hoofed it back, and he too took a drink.

“Thanks, sugarcube. That was just a lotta work, ain’t pulled nothin’ that hard in ages.”

“I was trying my best to help keep the slack off of you, but that thing just was not happy in that mud.”

“Neither were we, so can’t fault it there.”

Bill chuckled, “Yeah, that’s a good point. Want me to carry you back to the car?”

Again, she shook her head, and started to rise to her hooves. “Naw, I’ll be fine. Need ta get that reeled back in,” she said, pointing at the winch, “and I’ll throw that yoke in tha back seat. Hang onto it, may come useful later.”

“Right, right.” Bill stood, then walked over to unhook the latch on the yoke’s horn.

On shaking hooves, Applejack approached, and taking the yoke from Bill she placed it around her neck again, and walked towards the vehicle. As Bill reeled in the winch, she opened the back door, tossed the yoke in, then deciding she earned it, jumped in the back to lay down on the bench seat, kicking the sports bag down to join the yoke.

Within a few minutes, Bill was back in the drivers seat, and after closing his door, he looked back to her. “You good there?”

“Yeah, just need ta rest a spell. By tha time we get to that house I’ll be good.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I were sure ‘bout me pullin’ this out, weren’t I?”

Looking forward, Bill placed the SUV into first gear, and began driving forward. “Yeah, I guess you were.”

It was quiet for several minutes, as Bill put it into second.

“Say, when did ya decide to call me Jackie?”

Bill didn’t say anything right away, focusing on what was ahead of him, but he did drum his thumbs on the steering wheel.

“I… don’t know. It just sort of came out back there.”

“And earlier, too.”

“It did?”

“Yeah, when ya said it weren’t my fault fer gettin’ this thing stuck.”

“Oh, I didn’t notice.”

“Uhuh. Ain’t nopony called me that since ma pa.”

“Oh, sorry, I won’t-”

“Don’t fret, sugarcube. I like it, feels nice hearin’ it again after so long.”

Bill didn’t respond, focusing on driving and staring ahead.

Silence took over the rest of the drive, a happy, tired smile adorning the mare’s face.

—-------

Bill pulled up to the house, then placed the 469 into 4 wheel high and drove into the field towards the barn and larger truck.

Applejack watched from the back seat, curious at first, but realized what his intention was when he grabbed for the radio microphone.

“Hey, McLintock, are you there?”

This time, his response was much faster.

“That’s a big hello, come in. How ya hearin’ me?”

“Just fine. We saw you earlier, or at least we think so. We’re parked at the same spot, in the little SUV.”

“Yeah, I sees ya. Was wonderin’ why ya’ll were walkin, but you sure got that little four wheeler mucked up. Stuck I take it?”

“Yeah, J- Applejack found a harness, and she helped pull it out.”

The mare smirked at that.

“Strong lady that one, then again havin’ four legs is better than two! Hah!”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Bill looked back at the mare, shrugging.

“So, can ya see my here tower?”

“No, unfortunately. Too far away, and too many trees.”

“I were ‘fraid ‘o dat. I’ve been tryin’a survey the land ‘round me, found a couple two tracks, not sure where they go or where they come, but otherwise not much else I’m findin’.”

“Figured as much. Hey listen, you can’t see it but there’s also a small house here. We’re gonna check it out, then head back to the garage. Applejack’s beat, and we’re both muddy and dirty like you would not believe. The big truck here is out of fuel, so I’m gonna see if I can find any.”

“Watcha want a big truck like that fer? Yer just gonna grab me ‘nd we blastin’ outta these woods, right?”

“Shit,” Bill whispered, mic off, “do we tell him?”

Applejack shook her head. “No, not now. When we have him with us, and show him what we got at the garage.”

“Alright.” Bill keyed the mic, “Uh, just in case, ya know? Might need it. Will you be okay another day? Or… worse case, several?”

“Oh for sure, for sure. I’ve survived worse. Gotta say though, seeing that little lady the first time, ya both had me right startled. Couldn’t believe my eyes, but ya’ll were right. Ponies! Hah, wonder what other sort of stuff’ll pop up next.”

Applejack motioned with her hoof, and Bill turned in his seat, presenting the mic to Applejack and keyed it for her.

“Trust me, Flint, I thought the same thing when I met Bill here.”

“Hah, that’s a right good one! Well be safe now, ya hear? I’ll catch ya on the flip side!”

“Talk to ya later, Flint!” Applejack said cheerily.

Bill replaced the microphone, then placed the SUV into reverse, using the right side mirror and looking backwards through the window to back up to the house. Applejack looked around also, keeping an eye on the left side of the vehicle, in case he might miss something.

He backed up basically right to the front door, placed the vehicle in neutral, pulled another lever he’d mentioned as the parking brake, and turned off the engine.

“Alright,” Bill started, looking to the back seat, “you feel up for doing a little exploring?”

“So long as there ain’t no more mud, sure.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bill said with a slap to his mud coated knee, then opened his door and stepped out.

Taking the handle in her muzzle, Applejack opened the backdoor on the same side, and stepped out, flakes and chunks of dried mud falling off of her legs and chest.

She gave her tail a few flicks, sending that mud flying.

“Boy, we’re a right mess ain’t we?” she commented as Bill closed the back door for her.

“Yeah, this is going to suck if this is an everyday thing.”

“Yer gonna need better foot coverin’s,” she added, then started for the house door.

Bill followed along by her side. “Yeah. Not sure what we can do for you, though.”

“If we had a unicorn with the know-how, I could have a pair of shoes enchanted with Lighter than Air, which while not good fer traction, would allow me to basically walk along the top of the mud.”

“You ponies are something else with that magic. Can you do anything? I mean, without the horn or wings or whatever?”

She stopped at the door, looking up to the human. “Sure, jus’ my magic is more akin to plants, trees mostly, but I can grow just dang near anythin’, anywhere.”

“Great.” Bill walked up to the door, and tried the handle.

It turned effortlessly, but it took him pressing his shoulder against the aged wood to open the door enough to enter.

They stepped inside, and it was dark.

"Hang on," Bill said as he opened the front window blinds.

As he did so, Applejack saw something tall hanging from a ceiling rafter by rope, a chair knocked down below it. One quick glance to Bill and back had the mare screaming.

9: The One Who Refused to Play

Bill was quick to react, kneeling down in front of Applejack and hugging her close, which also had the aided effect of hiding the sight before her.

“Shh, shh, Jackie, it’s okay.”

“No it ain’t!” she shouted into his shoulder, partly muffled, “there’s one of yer human bodies hangin’ from tha ceilin’!”

“I know, I saw it too. Just, deep breath, okay?”

There was silence.

“Okay?”

Hesitantly, the mare nodded, then moved her muzzle so it was pointed down, while the top of her head continued to push into his shoulder, and the bill of her hat pulled up to stay on top. She took a deep breath in, then let it out. Doing this nine more times, she tried to back away, but Bill’s arms were still holding her close.

“Are you good?” he asked quietly, calmly.

“I think so. Just… it took me by surprise.”

Slowly, Bill removed his arms from her back, and allowed the mare to sit on her haunches, leaning away, and her wide eyes instantly went to the dangling figure.

Gulping, Bill turned around to do the same, and grimaced.

“That’s… not very welcoming,” he said.

“No, it ain’t.”

“A warning, perhaps?”

Shaking her head, Applejack pointed a hoof at the chair. “Doubt it, unless they staged that, why would ya do that to scare off folks?”

Bill hadn’t removed his eyes from the body, but slowly, he stood up, and approached.

“Bill?” she asked.

“Weird, he doesn’t smell. It’s almost like he’s mummified.”

“Ya sure it’s a he?”

“No boobs, so not a chick.”

“Boobs? Oh.” The mare looked down at herself, then back up to Bill. “Guessin’ they’re in a different spot than me, huh?”

“One crazy thing at a time, please,” Bill said, paused, then gave her a strange look, “but yes, you’d be correct. More up here,” he motioned with his hands against his chest, like he was holding two balls in his hands.

“Gotcha.”

“Funny though, look at what he’s wearing.”

Slowly, Applejack stood, then walked closer to Bill, but kept her distance. “How come?”

“He’s wearing what’s basically business attire, even has a red tie. And those shoes,” he whistled.

“What’s weird ‘bout it?”

“Well, I know you’re more au naturel, but I basically woke up in what I had gone to sleep in. And I’d bet you anything Flint is the same.”

“So what, this feller… fell asleep in his business suit?”

“I’d say so, possibly traveling.”

Finally looking away, Bill surveyed around the room, until he spotted something on a table.

“What’s this?” he said out loud, walking over.

Applejack was quick to follow.

Placing her hooves on the table edge so she could see, all that was there was a folded piece of paper, and resting on top was some sort of golden ring.

Bill picked up the ring, inspecting it.

“Over Hill, Over Dale, Our Love Will Ever Fail it reads,” Bill set the ring down, then picked up the paper.

Using her hoof, Applejack pulled the ring closer to inspect it. “This a weddin’ ring?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh, shouldn’t it be then, Our Love Will Never Fail?”

“I guess? I suppose you have similar customs?”

She nodded. “Yeah, usually horn rings like this size. Some ponies like hoof bracelets, or even earrings.” She gave the ring a flick with her hoof, making it spin. “My parents used tree seeds, planted them side by side.”

A few moments went by, and Bill hadn’t responded.

“Bill?” she asked.

He was intently reading the paper, gripping it in his hands, eyes going side to side.

Walking on her hind legs, and using the table for support, Applejack moved closer and tapped his arm.

“Sugarcube?”

Bill blinked, looking at Applejack, then back to the letter. “Sorry, it’s just…” he gulped.

“What’s the matter? Is it somethin’ he said? Did?”

“Yes, to both. Here, you can read it. I… need a moment.”

After handing the mare the letter, Bill slowly walked outside, keeping a good distance from the hanging body, and stopped near the door where he saw a pair of unlaced work boots. He reached down, picked them up, and continued outside, leaving the door open.

Applejack watched him intently, and once he was out of sight, her eyes couldn’t help but look at the dangling form.

There was something eerily about the body, especially considering the layer of dust that clung to him and his clothing. Bill’s apt description of mummified was spot on, but it also reminded her of whenever she’d find a dead mouse in her barn. Like it had been dehydrated, and strangely preserved. Fluttershy never cried when she’d come retrieve them, giving them a burial, even if she didn’t recognize who they were.

A scary thought struck her, causing a shiver down her spine.

If we die here, is that what happens ta us?

Shaking her head, Applejack sat on her haunches, holding the letter in her hooves. It took up the whole page, neatly written with a style that showed efficiency and speed, yet clarity as any letters which shared shape or size were distinctly dissimilar. It reminded her much like Filthy Rich’s quill work.

—-------

I’m done with this place. These others, it’s stupid. Crazy. Meeting two brightly colored miniature horses that could talk was one thing, but trying to say the way to escape was by hauling logs? Even I have enough brains to know that’s all bologna, and I’d know, I barely got through college yet I got a Wall Street job like I’d been in the business all my life.

I thought I was crazy when I woke up in that pumpkin patch, but then I found a unicorn. No joke, he said he was, and didn’t know what a human was. Star-something, I forget, but he just insisted on calling him Star. Not that I cared, figured I’d had a bad bag of peanuts and too much wine on my flight.

Thank God I didn’t kick off my shoes like I was going to, but after having one pair stolen mid-flight, you don’t do it again. Still, once we were sure we weren’t going to hurt each other, we started to walk around. He kept using his magic, which I still say is stupid, but he was the supposed teacher in some special unicorn school, so he was the “expert”.

Before long, we stumbled upon the other two, another pony without a horn, and a younger woman, big tits on her God damn. Farm girl, too, by her tight fitting jeans that left nothing to the imagination, and button up plaid shirt. AND a blonde, Lord almighty if I was twenty years younger.

Yeah, and if you’re reading this Sarah I don’t care. You’re as crazy as the ponies, bet you even did sleep with Hornless you hussy. Hopefully none of you find this, even though I know Star goes to that tower way out behind this place for his research, but he tends to, of all things, teleport there.

I don’t even know why I’m writing this, I suppose there's just too much on my mind, things to settle before I do this. Man, just when I thought dealing with those strikers out on Wall Street last week however many months ago now was bad enough, this was a whole different thing. I mean, really, Occupy Wall Street? What do you think will even come from this?

We tried to leave. We’ve found vehicles, fuel, and even some sort of garage which should be impossible. We gathered supplies, loaded up a truck, and headed out. Then, we hit a wall. An invisible wall. That got Star all in a tizzy. He tried to walk past, but couldn’t. He poked it with his magic, but felt nothing.The next month, we all took turns trying different directions, following the wall.

Hornless drew it out, as he had begun taking all sorts of notes on things, and came to a horrible realization, and showed us. We’re trapped here, in this prison, invisible walls of nothing boxing us in.

The others wanted to settle in the garage, ration up and make plans. I followed along at first, only because I didn’t know what else to do. Now that I think about it, I left my briefcase in my room, but oh well, what good is it now? Blackberry died two days into being here, and it did no good anyway.

The next month, both Hornless and Sarah started to go out and explore together, and check some other areas. Yeah, and I’m sure you two explored a whole lot of one another. Fucking disgusting. Then you two them two said they think they knew what was needed to do, like an actual objective.

They’d found some logging equipment, a map in one of the trucks, and with nothing else to do here, moved some lumber. It took them weeks, but they got a load there, and said something about it felt right. I vaguely remember making a remark about something else feeling “just right” between them and dropping a load.

I didn’t realize how hard a miniature horse could punch, but that was it for me.

My jaw quit hurting a week ago, but now I’ve been staring out the window here, staring down the road, waiting for one of them to come. I took one of the larger trucks, forgot to shut it off after a few days and ran it out of fuel. Oh well, like I give two shits.

I guess I have one regret? Sorry about that night in Vegas, Cheryl. It wasn’t anything personal, you understand, but boys will be boys. I miss you, babe. Love you, even, and while I feel like we’d gotten bored with each other, now I see things differently.

I’m done. I got one bottle of Vodka left, gonna polish this down and see if I can get the guts up to do it this time. I’ve tried three times already, and wussed out. Enough’s enough.

Fuck this place, fuck you all, and if you’re NOT one of them three reading this, then welcome to Hell, and make peace with yourself. I did, and I finally feel ready to go.

-Donald

—-------

Slowly, Applejack lowered the letter, then looked around the floor, and finally under the table like it had rolled there, was a mostly empty bottle of vodka.

Same label as the ones in their fridge.

She looked at the hanging body again, with a whole new attitude.

Scowling, she folded the letter again, and sticking it under her hat she began to leave, not even bothering with avoiding the body, she just ignored it outright.

Once outside, she found Bill leaning against the 469, forehead resting against his right forearm, as he took deep breaths.

“Bill? You a’right?”

He just nodded, not looking at her or saying anything.

Approaching closer, she placed a hoof on his right thigh. “Bill? Are ya gonna be okay?”

At that, he smiled, then looked at her with sad eyes. “I don’t know, will you? Will Flint, or our mystery fourth?” Finally, he shook his head. “This is fucked. I don’t want to believe it, I want to drive away and just leave, but… why would he lie in a letter like that?”

Applejack removed the letter from under her hat, then placed both hooves against it, and concentrated.

“He didn’t lie,” Applejack said, eyes still closed and a frown on her muzzle.

“How sure are you?”

She opened her eyes, then looked at the human, “Perfectly sure. Honesty is my thing, and I’m confident this were written honestly.”

“Right, yeah, sure.”

“Do we tell Flint?” Applejack asked.

Bill drummed his thumbs against the fabric top, looking past the vehicle. “Good question. Or do we just tell him part of it?”

Applejack put her back to the vehicle, then sat down and leaned her back against it, rubbing her forehead with both hooves. “I dunno, I’m too tired ta think. This ain’t what I expected.”

“Same. Well, part of me wants to just hit it now, but I found those boots, so maybe there’s something else he left in that house.”

“Yeah, but it feels more like a tomb than a house.”

Bill nodded, then reached into the open window of the vehicle and grabbed one of the boots, inspecting the tag. “Well, one size too big, but I can make that work.”

They were both quiet for some time, then Applejack coughed, cleared her throat, and shakily spoke.

“Do… do ya think they made it?”

The context wasn’t clear, but Bill picked up on it quick enough, playing with the tongue of the boot.

“I don’t know. We haven’t seen any reason to suspect they are still around like… him.” Bill thumbed back towards the house.

Both were quiet once more, then finally Bill tossed the boot into the back again. “Screw it, we can come back when we have the fuel for that other truck. Let's see if we can go find that fuel station, or whatever it is. Then maybe we’ll have something thought up to tell Flint.”

“A’right. Just make sure we don’t get stuck again.”

“Hah!”

Applejack walked back to the house, and looked inside one more time, staring at the body, then gently closed the door. She returned to the 469, the passenger side door already open, and hopped in, closing the door behind her.

Author's Note

Hey all, we have finally hit the point in which my backlog is only 1 chapter left. Expect updates to this a little more randomly, however my goal is to at least update every other week, giving me a couple weeks to wite and quickly edit.

I was hoping to be a bit further along, but work has been nuts and with the summer coming to an end I got lots of work at two homes to do.

That being said, see ya at the next update, or one shot.

10: Warehouse Blues.

The return trip, while still as muddy, wasn’t as bad now that they knew where the muck was hiding. The worst part of the return trip, however, was the silence. They’d tried to talk, joke even once, but their hearts weren’t in it. The hanging body in that empty house was still bothering the mare, even though she hated cowards like that.

It still took them the better part of the afternoon to return to the more solid dirt road, and the tan colored garage was like a beacon in a pending storm as they pulled up closer.

Both pony and human were covered in dried mud and sweat. Once parked at the garage, Bill shut down the little 469 and they both just sat there in the silence. Occasionally small crackles and pops could be heard as the exhaust cooled under the vehicle.

With a sigh, Bill looked behind them at what they’d packed, slapped his muddy legs, and said a single word.

“Fuck.”

He then proceeded to exit the vehicle, with Applejack simply following out his still open door. She closed it with a flick of her tail.

Slowly, two weary and tired bodies walked to the smaller entry door, which Bill held open for the mare. Entering the garage, Bill promptly ignored the space and made for the hallway, Applejack close on his heels. They both stopped at Applejack’s open room door.

“Hey, you take a shower first. I’m starved, and you probably don’t wanna be around when I try to thaw some of that deer in the freezer.”

Simply nodding, the mare did just that, kicking her door closed, hanging her hat and red scrunchies on the hook near her door, and tossed the note on her desk before making her way into the bathroom.

The next half hour was spent soaking and rinsing out the thick mud which gripped at her fur, mostly around her fetlocks and underbelly, although thankfully the more sensitive areas were spared.

She opted out of a full soap and scrub, just wanting most of the sweat and mud rinsed off. Although, maybe the suds and smells would help distract her mind from the mental image of that person persisting to pester her until she wanted to scream. Instead, she bit her towel harder, cringing at the stale taste and violently rubbing it along her left side.

Another fifteen or so minutes of drying, and she stepped out of her room, towel still around her mane and another draped across her back. She didn’t drip precipitation, but she was still fairly wet at her skin.

Still, walking to the main area, she found Bill sitting at the table, munching on what smelled like cooked meat in a patty form, something she’d expect from a hayburger, minus bun.

Spotting her, Bill quickly swallowed, then pointed to the kitchen area. “I didn’t thaw one, but under the deer was some frozen fish. Can… I mean, I’ve heard of horses eating fish.”

“We can, but more of a pegasus thang.”

“Alright, so I can save that then, just in case.”

She nodded, then walked into the kitchen, where the box of oatmeal was still out from earlier that morning.

Then, something else warm graced her nose, and she sniffed around.

“I also found some corn muffin mix. Found powdered milk and eggs, and some cinnamon to add some flavor to it. They should be done soon.”

Applejack smiled. “Well, I’ll be, ya’ll can cook, too? Shame ya ain’t a pony.”

Bill laughed. “Really? That’s what takes your fancy? A guy- or, what, stallion? Yeah, a stallion that can cook?”

Applejack opened the windowless door on the electric oven, looking at the muffins and how they’d just started to brown around the edges.

“Right now, fer how I feel, I’d take a stallion so long as he were swingin’,” she said as she closed the oven door.

Bill began to choke on his food, and Applejack had a laugh at his expense.

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

Still coughing, Bill wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Not what- what else could you mean by that?”

Opening her mouth to speak, the mare hesitated, then closed it with a click of her teeth.

“Huh, I don’t rightly know. I’m tired. I shouldn’t be, but I am.”

“I know what you mean. I’m just… drained. Mentally, emotionally, and top it off with some physical labor we didn’t expect?”

Applejack nodded, then opened the oven once more, and grabbed an oven mitt, one which did not fit properly, but was enough to grab and pull the tray out, and placed it on the counter top.

“They’re done.”

“Awesome,” Bill began, then stood and made his way into the kitchen. “Without butter, they’re probably gonna suck, but I did what I could.”

As the human placed his plate into the sink and began to rinse it, Applejack patted his thigh. “No worries, Sugarcube. They smell great, so I’m sure they’ll taste good, too.”

Making herself another bowl of oatmeal, and taking two of the corn muffins, Applejack sat at the table and was joined by Bill as he brought two of the corn muffins as well.

They ate in relative silence, save for grumbling about a lack of butter from the human. Applejack agreed, but assured the human, like the coffee, they’d find a way to live on.

After eating, Bill retreated to his room and the bathroom to shower, while Applejack walked over to the sitting area. Looking between the two chairs and couch, she picked the larger one. She tossed her towels to the floor, with the intention of picking them up later. Giving it a few strong pats with her hoof, which sent dust flying about and caused her to sneeze, she jumped up onto the couch.

Looking around absentmindedly, she noticed on one of the end tables a lone magazine. She grabbed it, then laid down on the couch, her right side on the cushions and her back nestled into the back support of the couch.

Opening it, there was nothing she could read, only taking away that some of what was written must be advertisement for the black and white pictures showing off random human goods. A few pages in, she found a word cross puzzle, which was halfway filled out, although strangely with Equestrian, or possibly English as Bill called his language, characters.

It looked like whoever was using the pencil was winning, or at least had more words down than the blue pen writer had. How strange that their two languages were nearly identical.

She shrugged, and decided to give it a shot anyway. Honestly, anything was a good distraction at this point from that letter. Her only hope was she didn’t have any nightmares about that finely dressed, hanging form.

—-------

Applejack was awoken with a start, her dream ending abruptly in a bout of fuzz and haze. The magazine fell off of her muzzle to the floor, and the pencil she’d found lost to the couch cushion.

The sun hadn’t come up yet, but the faintest traces of light could be seen starting to brighten up the backside of the blinds. She also noticed she’d been covered with a blanket, and her towels were gone.

Slowly, shoving the blanket off of herself, she sat up, yawned, and looked around.

Most of the furniture hadn’t been touched, although there was a bit of a disturbance on one of the chairs, from a figure sitting in it. The glass faced box on the cart had also been turned towards it, and parked closer to the chair.

Bill.

Stretching, Applejack landed her hooves on the floor, then made her way to her room and the connected bathroom.

A few minutes later, she exited the bathroom, then her own room. She paused at Bill’s room door which was closed, and thought about what to do.

Shrugging, she let him be, and made her way back into the kitchen, and began sifting through all the cupboards, looking at all the supplies they had.

It wasn’t fresh, mostly powdered or canned, but maybe she could make something out of it.

—-------

An hour later, Bill’s room door opened, and a half dressed human stumbled out, still rubbing his eyes but appearing to be mostly awake. The sun had started to poke out and shine into the windows about 30 minutes ago, which caused him to stir. What caused him to actually wake up, however, was the smell coming from outside of his room.

He’d wandered out, and Applejack watched as he stepped out of the hall, bleary eyes looking at her, at the large stew pot, then he simply walked over to the dining table and took his seat. Rolling her eyes, she continued stirring, occasionally taking a wooden spoon and giving the broth a taste, then adding a pinch of salt.

“Mornin’ there, Bill.”

“Morning, Applejack.”

She smirked. “Ya know, ya can call me Jackie. I kinda like it, actually.”

“It’s not something weird, is it? I just have a thing with nicknames, and like to give them out.”

“All good, Sugarcube.”

Bill stretched. “Well, then I guess you should know, Bill is my nickname.”

“Really now?” Applejack said, wooden spoon in her mouth as she stirred.

“Yeah, my actual name is William Knight. But everyone just calls me Bill.”

“William Knight,” Applejack said, rolling her tongue in her mouth. “I like that. Feels like yer name.”

The human laughed at that. “Well that’s good, at least my parents got it right.” There was silence for a few seconds, then, “Say, what are you making? Smells brothy.”

Applejack nodded. “That’s cause it be jus’ that. Figured, instead of makin’ a bunch’a small meals, with what we got I’d make us one large pot o’ stew so we have it fer all day, maybe two, dependin’ on how hungry we get.”

“Great idea. I can thaw some more deer meat and cook it for myself later.”

“I thought’a that too. Didn’t pull any out though.”

“That’s fine, I had some meat last night, I’ll survive a day without. Just wish we had some damn coffee though,” Bill said, adding a large yawn at the end. “Fuck.”

“I hear ya. I did find some tea packets, but I only drink tha stuff when Twilight’s around.”

“No thanks, doesn’t do it for me. If anything, warm tea makes me sleepy.”

The mare smiled, and after a taste test of a single chunk of each canned vegetable she’d added, she was satisfied enough to turn off the burner. This morning’s experiments with the electric stove and oven had been one of curiosity, and even a bit of fun. She’d been tempted to just use the wood stove, but there were only a few pieces of cut wood to the side, not enough for cooking a large meal like this.

Plus she got to play with something only a few Ponyville residents had access to, and it was kind of neat. Instant heat from turning a little knob! Rarity would be jealous.

“A’right, should be good.”

She grabbed the two bowls still in the drying rack, and using a ladle filled them both about half way. Using an old wooden cutting board she’d found and used to chop on, she placed the board on her back, then each bowl onto said board, and walked to the table.

“That’s still bullshit.”

Smiling, Applejack placed the wooden cutting board, using her mouth, onto the table. “If ya’d like, I could walk on my hind legs like a Canterlot waitress, cept they normally got a skirt ‘r somethin’ ta keep’em modest.”

Bill opened his mouth to retort, stopped, thought better, and grumbled as he pulled one of the bowls closer to him. With a grumble, Bill got up from the table and made for the kitchen as Applejack sat in the same chair as yesterday.

She watched him open a few drawers, until he found one which rattled, full of silverware.

Applejack eyed the spoon still sitting, pointing upward, in the drying rack.

As Bill sat down, the mare’s eyebrow twitched, and the human smirked.

“Something the matter, Jackie?”

She took a deep breath, in and out, then smiled. “Eenope. Not at all, William.”

This time, Bill visibly shuddered. “Woah, that was like, how my mom calls me when I fuck up. Don’t… do that again please.”

“As long as ya don’t do that again, on purpose ‘r not.”

“Do what?”

“The spoon?”

Bill looked down to the instrument. “What about it? I don’t have that crazy tongue like you do, so I need it.”

Applejack’s ears flattened. “Oh. I thought…”

This time, Bill raised a brow.

“Nothin’, never mind.” Applejack began blowing on her steaming bowl of stew.

Bill did the same, however placed his spoon into it first and pulled out a glob, blowing on that too.

Once cooled, the two fell into a comfortable quiet bicker as they ate. Bill complained about not having any bread, and Applejack complained about his complaining.

Once finished, Bill stood, grabbing both of their bowls and his spoon, and made his way to the sink to rinse them off.

“Oh, also, sorry I upset you like that. I was just trying to be funny, like you do to me.”

Applejack looked to the human confused, then he pointed to the spoon from yesterday in the drying rack.

Applejack huffed. “So ya DID know!”

“Yeah, but I thought it was funny at the time.”

With a loud harumph, she crossed her forelegs over her chest, cheeks puffed out in a pout.

“That’s still adorable.”

“Hush it.”

Once washed, Bill placed the dishes into the drain rack to dry, and walked back into the dining area.

“So, gimme a few to get dressed, then I’ll be ready to look for any fuel cans. You?”

Ears returning erect, Applejack nodded. “I jus’ need a few minutes, ‘nd then yeah I’ll be ready.”

“Alright. I was gonna ask if you got to those binders last night, but I found you asleep on the couch, all curled up like you were cold, also adorable by the by. Nabbed an extra blanket from your room since I only had the one on my bed.”

Smiling, Applejack got down from her seat. “I were more tired than I thought. Thank ya kindly fer that.”

Bill shrugged. “I’m more surprised I didn’t wake you when I tried the TV. Nothing on the airwaves, but no converter box on it so figured I wouldn’t get anything. Although…” Bill tapped his chin, walking towards the hall, “I wonder if someplace like Russia changed their TV’s?”

Applejack, walking beside him, gave him a curious look.

“Never mind, confusing stuff. Just, nothing was on the magic picture box in the sitting area. There’s a VCR on the shelf of the cart, but so far I’ve found no tapes.”

“I’ll jus’ pretend I know what yer talkin’ about.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bill said and gave the mare’s back a couple encouraging pats.

Rolling her eyes, Applejack entered her room as Bill entered his, however didn’t close her door like he had with his.

In truth, she didn’t need to do much to get ready. Comb out her mane and tail, grab her hat, and be ready to go. So not wasting any time, she went ahead and got her mane and tail brushed to their usual self, adding the scrunchies and putting on the Sneed hat to finish off her new normal attire.

With no sound coming from Bill’s doorway, she stood in her room, unsure what to do to pass the time.

She wanted to check out those binders, but she also feared what she might find. Or more so, that she’d get absorbed into them and not do anything else for the day, when they’d already made a plan.

Instead, she walked out of her room, closing her door, and went back into the kitchen. Grabbing the now dried bowls, she found some tinfoil for a cover, and poured them each another helping for a later meal.

—-------

Applejack had just placed the bowls in a box, on the back floor of the 469 when Bill came walking outside.

“Oh, there you are,” Bill said, now dressed, although different pants than before and still shoeless, carrying white socks in his hand. He wore the same button shirt over a clean looking T-shirt, but had attempted to, at least, clean off some of the mud splatterings.

“Yeah, just put a couple’a bowls of stew in the vehicular fer us, so we’d have a more hearty meal while we’re out.”

“Nice, thanks.” Bill said, then looked around briefly. “So, we need to find some gas cans, or anything more heavy duty to move a liquid which is easily combustible.”

“A’right.”

Reaching into the open back door, Bill grabbed the boots, then doing one foot at a time he wiped them off with a hand. Placed on a sock, slipped on the boot, and then snuggly lacing them as best as he could. He gave them a few experimental stomps and power walking strides.

“Yeah, a little big, but they’ll work. I will have to find something to shove down in the toes later.”

“A’right. Won’t cause no chafing or blisters, will it?”

Bill raised a brow. “For someone who doesn’t wear normal shoes, you know about that?”

Rolling her eyes, Applejack retrieved the yoke harness from the back floor, and showed him. “It’s tha same principle. My brother would constantly cause injuries along his neck until he grew into our pa’s.”

“Huh. Well, like these boots, we’ll figure something out for that, just in case we gotta use it again.”

Nodding, Applejack replaced the yoke, then closed the back door. “So, ya wanna look in the big warehouse of impossible? Or outside?”

“Let's check out here real quick.”

First the two walked around the outside of the building, only to find nothing but a couple of old 55 gallon barrels, rusted beyond any good use, save for burning trash.

Something which the pair noticed one such similarly conditioned barrel out in a clearing to the side of the garage, up on cement blocks, top already cut open.

After an entire lap around the garage, and a quick glance around themselves to ensure no other smaller, storage-like buildings could be found at a distance, Bill opened the far end roll up door he’d used before, and they entered the garage.

With a click of the switch, the lights came on, seeming to go on forever.

“I will never get used to that,” Bill said.

“Same,” agreed the mare.

And so the search began. What they were looking for wasn’t something unusual for the mare, but Bill also mentioned trying to find anything that could assist in the transportation of said canisters.

After a good half hour, Applejack hollered from one of the many aisles.

“Where are ya at?” Bill called after her.

“Over ‘ere.”

“That’s as much help as shouting ‘Polo!’”

There was a bit of silence, then the mare called out. “Polo.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Bill said quietly to himself, sighed, then called out “Marco.”

After several bouts of back and forth, including some laughter, Bill found the mare looking up halfway through a set of shelves. Bill walked and stood beside her, and looked up as well.

“Oh hey, that looks like a roof rack.”

“Eeyup. There’s also some empty red can’s over there,” she pointed to their right, “along with some heavily used wood crates. One got some random parts ‘nd tools in it.”

Bill looked behind them, and grinned. “Oh nice. Okay, so we need to figure out how to get that rack down.”

Applejack nodded. “‘Nd figure out how ta mount it.”

“One step at a time.”

“Sure, sure. So, ladder?”

Bill grimaced. “I’d prefer a rolling safety ladder you’d find in Home Depot.”

Applejack raised a curious brow at the human.

“I worked there for a couple years. Basically a mobile set of stairs with sides so the risk of falling is halved.”

“Gotcha, makes sense. So, how do we remember where this here is?”

Tapping his chin, Bill looked around, then down at his feet, noticing the layer of dust they were leaving foot and hoof prints in. Then, a bit of yellow paint caught his attention.

“What’s this?”

Kneeling, he swiped his hand across it, revealing some large markings.

“Watch out, Bill.”

He stood, and the mare backed up, and using her tail she began sweeping the dust off the floor, sending it everywhere and causing the human to cough.

Once the dust settled, they looked at what was painted.

“Oh hey. A letter and a number.”

Sure enough, a massive E7 was painted on the floor. Both human and mare walked opposite directions, and began wiping more dust off the ground, and finding additional markings.

“I got E6!”

“‘Nd I got E8!”

Both returned to the first spot they’d cleared, then looked down towards where the garage doors should be.

“So, there's one wall. We have got eight columns, and we’re in row E.”

“Sounds right,” Applejack nodded.

“And lets say, for lack of argument, we might have twenty six rows since there are that many letters in the alphabet.”

Applejack’s ears went flat against the back of her head.

“Well, so we at least have an idea of the mapping? Let's just run with it. Move out from here, looking up and down, then at the ends, see if we find anything.”

“Right. Okay, I’ll keep down this here way like I were.”

“And I’ll go over there and do something similar.”

Both nodded to each other, and took off.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before Bill shouted out-

“Eureka! Got it, Jackie! Meet you back at E7!”

Snickering to herself, Applejack made her way back, and the closer she got, the louder the sound of dry, squeaky wheels bounced off the walls and hit her, until she watched a massive set of movable stairs round a corner at E7, Bill pushing them.

“I swear two of the wheels aren’t even moving,” the human panted, stopping to lean against the steel stairs, wiping his brow.

Applejack looked up, whistling as she noticed they almost reached the second to top rack.

“Yeah, also remind me later to show you where I found this. Against a set of shelves that had metal doors, locking out whatever’s on them. Not sure what’s there, but they have these massive locks on them. Doubt I’d be able to cut them, or it would take forever with a good torch set.”

“Curious…” Applejack mused.

“Yeah, but we got the access. Spot me, I’m going to head up.”

“If ya’ll’re sure.”

Bill stepped onto the first step of the stairs, and his weight caused four little springs to collapse, raising the wheels which allowed the four corners of the ladder to contact the floor, making it immobile.

“I’m good for it, trust me.”

—-------

Bill’s right foot was stuck between two of the steps, which kept him from falling down the remaining three quarters of total stairs. His hands gripped the roof rack as gravity mixed with the rack’s weight tried to stretch him like a midevil torture device.

“I’m not good for it, I’m not good for it!” Bill shouted.

Both of Applejack’s hooves covered her face, then quickly she marched up the steel steps.

She approached the opposite end of the rack, and grabbed it with her teeth. She braced her forehoves on either hand rail of the ladder, and her back hooves on the steps. The rack sat contently along the hand rails of the stairs.

“A’write, I gopht ipht.”

Slowly, Bill released the rack, and when it wasn’t about to go tumbling down, he pulled himself up. Releasing his trapped foot, he quickly caught his breath and grabbed the other side of the rack with both hands, pulling up.

“Okay, I got it now. Let's ease it down.”

Releasing the rack from her teeth, Applejack rolled her jaw, then held up a hoof.

“One sec, Sugarcube.”

She turned around, which was a feat considering how high they were and how narrow the mobile stairs were. Backing herself to the rack she placed one of the pipes along her shoulder blades, using her neck to stop it from moving forward. She looked down at the easy 20 feet of distance from her to the ground.

Gulp.

“You ready?” Bill asked.

“Yeah,” Applejack said cautiously.

Slowly, step by step, the two worked the rack down towards the ground, the metal pips of the rack grinding on the safety rails of the steps, until the mare was safely on the concrete floor. She moved out of the way as Bill allowed it to tumble the last couple of feet with a loud clatter of steel pipes echoing with each impact. Neither rack or floor seemed any worse for wear.

Both were panting, Applejack already sitting down to lean against the shelving unit beside them. Bill quickly joined her sitting on the dirty floor.

“That was a lot heavier than I thought it would be,” he coughed, then, “sorry about that.”

Applejack waved a hoof, still getting herself calmed down. Not that the task was hard, but it was much more nerve wracking than anything. At any moment she could have… or he could have…

The mare shuddered, and Bill grabbed her opposite shoulder, pulling her towards him for a sort of sideways hug, drawing her against his side.

“It’s okay, we’re good. How anyone could load something so heavy so high up, I can’t imagine.”

Applejack shrugged, resting her face into his right breast, taking a deep breath of his scent.

Slowly, both of their breaths calmed down, and Applejack pulled away from the human. Both look to the rack sitting on the floor.

“Now, how to mount it?” she asked.

Bill let out a chuckle, then reached into his left breast pocket, and pulled out a plastic bag. “Hardware was string tied to it. Seems to simply bolt on, so we should be good.”

Applejack huffed at that, then smiled for some reason even though she couldn’t explain.

—-------

Bill had moved the 469 into the far end bay, parking it backwards so they could have an easier time loading it on top of the truck.

Of course, with one of them being tall and the other short, it went as well as one would expect.

Poorly.

Hours later, as noon drew closer, Bill tightened the last of the clamps down, ensuring the rack was secure and tight. He closed the small covers which allowed the rack to mount to the roll cage, both snaps clicking into place to seal the roof from any rain.

Applejack had already pulled out their bowls of stew, and went back to the kitchen to warm them up, walking out with them both on her back, one with a spoon in it.

Bill reached down and grabbed both, allowing the mare to sit and drop the cutting board. He handed her the one without a spoon, and Applejack dove in, lapping up the warm stew with her long tongue.

Bill simply chuckled, and sitting on the ground next to her began to eat as well.

Between bites, the two spoke.

“So, we got two of them cans. And those two crates. Looks like there’s still room up there, dependin’ on how we tie ‘em down.”

“Mhm,” Bill agreed with a full mouth, chewing, then with a mighty swallow grabbed the vodka bottle with water and took a drink.

Applejack raised a hoof, and once he was done drinking, passed the opened bottle, allowing the mare to take a drink as well.

“So,” Bill coughed, then cleared his throat. “So, we will grab that small crate with the stuff in it, and those two gas cans, and head out. Sound good?”

“Eeyup,” Applejack hoofed back the almost empty bottle to Bill, who took it and gave it a shake.

“Well, after we refill our water and some more of that stew. Good lord you’re gonna make me fat with this.”

Applejack barked a mighty laugh at that.

While eating, the mare couldn’t help but look over to the large sets of metal beams that were bolted down to the floor. For some reason, something about them, or what Bill had called them the day before, made her tilt her head curiously.

“Say, Bill, what did you call them there things?”

Bill paused, chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “What? Those car hoists? Or lifts, whatever.”

“Yeah, ‘nd what do they do?”

WIth a spoonful half way to his mouth, the human paused, and blinked. “They… lift vehicles.”

Slowly, Applejack turned her head to look at the human, eyes squinting at him, ears flat.

“Oh. That would have…” Bill didn’t turn his head, but his eyes looked over to the mare, and he visibly winced from her glare.

“Let it be known, I’m not the smartest human around.”

There was a mini stare down between the two, and then Applejack looked away, smacked the back of her head onto the side of the 469, and laughed.

Bill simply grumbled, something about women, and went back to his meal, finishing it in relative silence

Author's Note

Hey all, sorry about this huge delay, but if it's not obvious I'm out of my buffer chapters. I guess I should have done one every two weeks... oh well, live and learn!

Updates will be erratic from here on out, simply because my free time is still quite limited and I was a bit burned out the last few weeks. Probably won't be another update for a few weeks, cause most of my free time after work will be doing prep for Ciderfest, then after that having to catch up on stuff again.

Anyway, see ya on the flip side!

11: What Makes the World Go Round

Bill pulled the strap tight with a couple of experienced tugs, then flicking the strap it gave off a sharp twang sound.

“Perfect, they’re not going anywhere,” he said, then climbed down off the side of the 469, now outside in the afternoon sun.

Applejack looked up, using her hoof in aid with the brim of her hat to peer at the strapped in cargo. “If’in’ yer sure, Sugarcube. My brother’s said that many a time, ‘nd it always ended ‘n disaster.”

“Well for your information, Jackie, I have these two amazing inventions called hands, and I may not have your pony strength, but I do have the ease of manipulating objects with them.”

Applejack raised a brow at him, which was becoming a habit, and lightly shook her head. “A’right.”

Bill opened the passenger door as he walked past, allowing Applejack to jump in and close the door herself. Bill entered the driver's seat, and quickly started the little truck up.

“So,” Applejack began, then began opening the map for inspection, “we need to go there, marked ‘GAS’?”

“Yes. Hopefully in a timely manner, this thing is already down to about half a tank itself,” Bill tapped a finger on one of the round gauges, checking to see its accuracy.

“Welp, no roads ‘re obvious, so let's just start goin’ thatta way.” Applejack pointed a hoof towards the rotten fence.

“Sure, here we go.”

Placing the 469 into first gear, they began creeping along the solid road surface for what was an incredibly short amount of time, then hitting dirt. Placing the vehicle into neutral, Bill engaged the four wheel drive, back into first, and continued along a dirt two track.

Meanwhile, Applejack kept shifting her attention from the map that tracked their location, to the outside, looking through the thicket of trees for any sort of pathways they could take. Before too long, they’d need to turn and head North.

“I don’t see a road, but there seems to be some open plains ahead,” Bill said.

Placing her hooves on the dash, Applejack stood to get a better sight. “Hm. I dunno, with how muddy it is, I’d bet my right hind leg that that there land is water logged like no other.”

“What if we stick to the edge, follow along the trees?”

Returning to her seat, Applejack tapped her chin. “Yeah, might be okay. Trees’ll soak up most of the water, so the ground might be a tad more solid.”

Looking ahead, the road seemed to continue straight, and then get lost in more woods.

“Although, this road could keep going and curve eventually, take us where we need to go.”

Applejack looked at the map, noticing how where they went, anything that was within sight distance of roughly 100 feet was also revealed. Currently, this bit of information did little to help their decision making.

“Well, I think we should continue on this here road fer a bit longer. Might get lucky.”

“Agreed. I’d rather not get stuck again so soon.”

“That too.”

So the duo continued ahead, Applejack looking out her window across the open plains. Nothing could be seen too easily far out, but there might have been a structure way out there.

—-------

The two track they drove on abruptly turned to the right, which was good.

It also was a muck pit, which was bad.

“Thoughts?” Bill asked.

“It looks only fifty feet ‘r so. Worst case I can pull it.”

Nodding, Bill placed the 469 into low range, in addition to the four wheel drive, and began crawling forward.

Even if she couldn’t see directly in front of them, the moment they hit the mud was evident when it began flinging against the side of the vehicle. Bill continued to creep forward, only giving slight revs of the engine when they seemed to slow down just a hair.

It was a marvel to watch the human work, changing gears, pressing pedals with his feet, and throughout it all, he had on a grin.

“I kinda wish we had some music to listen to,” Bill said abruptly.

Applejack laughed. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

They hit a small dip, which dropped the front end into a puddle, splashing muddy water at the windshield. Bill fiddled with a couple of knobs, until one activated two little arms with blades on them, and began to (mostly) clear the mess.

And then he began to hum.

Applejack didn’t immediately recognize the tune, but it felt familiar. Not the song itself, but what it meant. Before too long, Applejack started to hum along when she noticed the repeating parts.

They hit another dip, this one to their right side, which caused Applejack to smack into her door, but thankfully not hurt herself. Bill was barely in his seat, but moving the wheel around he managed to straighten them up. Applejack’s entire window was covered in mud, so she simply released the latch, dropping the window out and open so it allowed Bill more vision.

Smiling, the humming continued. Another dip, another splash of mud, and now Applejack found herself smiling too. In a strange way, as slow as they were going, as messy and muddy as the little truck was getting, they were still making progress. They were still moving, and it was actually inspirational in a sense.

“Almost heaven, West Virginia…”

Bill’s humming stopped, and now he began to actually sing. A song about home, about the birthplace of life itself. About traveling down a country road which leads them there.

All too quickly, Applejack found herself singing along, even though she’d never heard the song before.

And so as they crawled along in the mud, singing and smiling. The tree’s around them waved along, ushering them with instrumentals of branches swaying and leaves chittering, but to human and pony, it was music all the same.

They still had several yards of heavy mud and water to trudge through, but the duo shared a look, smiling with tears in their eyes, and continued singing.

“Country roads, take me home…”

—-------

With the 469 in the lowest gear setting possible, they finally crawled out of the heavily mudded trail, and rolled to a stop as Bill put the vehicle into neutral and held the brake.

Both occupants were wiping the tears from their eyes, clearing their throats and trying to regain their composure.

“Wow, Bill, that song…” Applejack began, but stopped when Bill held up his hand.

“Don’t, just… I hate that song.”

Shocked, Applejack looked at her companion with a confused look.

“How can that be?”

“Bad memories. I… I don’t know why I started humming it, or singing it, or… how in the Hell did you know the lyrics!?”

Applejack shrugged. “We ponies are in tune with Harmony, and one ‘o tha easiest ways fer that is music. Harmony simply fills in what we dun know, and usually magic happens.”

Bill stared at the mare like she was talking nonsense, then slammed his forehead on the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry if that song struck a nerve, but it were beautiful all tha same.”

“Yeah. Just… let’s try to avoid that again, okay? It was weird, and I’m still feeling all…”

“Tingly, excited, sad, some more emotion’s ya can’t rightly explain?”

Bill nodded into the steering wheel.

“That’s Harmony, Bill. We ponies go through it jus’ bout every day, some multiple times a day.”

“Well, I’m not a pony, and we humans don’t go through such things. I just…”

Suddenly, Bill pulled the parking brake lever, and opening the door stepped out of the vehicle.

“Bill?” Applejack called.

“Just a minute.”

Carefully, Applejack moved from her seat to Bill’s, so she could watch him closer.

He had walked away several feet, and was now bent over, hands on his knees, dry heaving.

“Bill? Ya’ll a’right?”

He simply waved his hand at her, and continued to dry heave.

“Gosh,” Applejack whispered to herself, “ if that’s tha effect Harmony has on a human, I’d hate to see what Pinkie would do to one.”

A few more moments, and Bill slowly made his way back to the vehicle, in which Applejack returned to her seat. Stepping inside and closing the door, Bill placed both hands on the wheel, straightened his arms so his back was pressed into the seat, and then let out a deep breath.

Applejack reached behind them, grabbing one of the vodka bottles turned water bottle and hoofed it to him, which he took and drank greedily from.

“Better?” Applejack asked.

Bill handed the open bottle to the mare, and as she drank her share he wiped the excess water from his chin.

“No, but I’ll manage. I still don’t know how to feel, but we need to keep moving. Can’t sulk all day.”

“Ya ain’t sulkin’, yer just overwhelmed. I remember bein’ a little filly ‘nd the first time I experienced Harmony. Right made me sick to mah stomach, but I pulled through it. Ya will too.”

With a slight smile, Bill reached over and patted Applejack on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Jackie. I’m still unsure about all this, but well… I guess worse things could happen.”

“That’s the spirit. Now come on, accordin’ to this here map, we’re almost to that gas station.

“Great.”

—-------

The rest of the drive was smooth, just normal dirt two track with a couple muddy spots, but nothing that required low range, just careful rev control and shifting from Bill, while Applejack called out his steering movements through her open window.

Before too long, a building came into view, with a large tank on its right side, and parked out front was a truck with a tank on its back. The building and large storage tank looked abandoned, but whole. The truck, however, looked terrible.

“Same front end as that one at that house we found,” Applejack said.

“Yeah, but it has a tank instead of… actually, I never pulled the tarp off, so I don’t even know what was on the back of that other one.”

“Regardless, that’s gonna take some work ta fix I reckon.”

“Yeah, but hopefully we don’t need it.”

The mare simply nodded, then continued to look around as they drew closer to the building. Bill parked next to the tank, and placing the parking brake on he turned the vehicle off.

“Okay, let's take a look,” Bill said as he opened his door to step out.

Applejack was close behind him, opening her own door and jumping out to stretch her legs.

“Hopefully we find some useful stuff, and we fill these… oh what the fuck.”

Stopping mid stretch, Applejack looked back towards the 469, and barked a laugh.

Both cans were gone, the straps dangling uselessly on the sides of the back doors.

“You have got to be shitting me,” Bill stared at the roof rack, like he expected the cans to suddenly appear.

Applejack, as much as she wanted to cry instead, continued to laugh as she rolled on the ground, the dry dirt doing nothing to bother her.

“It’s not funny! Now we gotta go back and find those cans!” Bill yelled.

Still on her back, Applejack wiped her eyes with a foreleg, then looked towards the building, her vision upside down. Taking a couple calming breaths, she then pointed her limb towards the building.

“Well, maybe we can use some of them cans there?”

Bill, walking around their truck, stopped to look where Applejack was pointing, and spotted two fuel cans sitting between the large tank and building.

“Huh. Okay, so that’s convenient,” Bill frowned.

“What’s the matter?” Applejack asked, rolling herself to sit on her haunches.

“I don’t know.”

Applejack watched Bill walk towards the cans, inspecting them. Standing to shake the dirt and dust off of her coat, Applejack walked over to join the human.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I thought it was a weird coincidence, but now I know something’s up. Look at these.”

Bill nudged one of the cans with his boot. Applejack watched it rock back and forth quickly, then settle.

“I don’t get it. What do you see?”

“They’re the same!”

Still staring at the cans, Applejack tilted her head.

“I mean, like, identical to one another, and I shit you not, the two cans we’ve lost.”

Applejack drew her face in closer to examine the cans, and as crazy as her human companion might sound…

“Woah, yeah, lookit this here rust spot on the bottom,” Applejack pointed her hoof.

“See!? This is too weird. There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”

“A’right, but what does it mean then?” Applejack asked, looking to Bill.

“I don’t know. It just unsettles me, that’s all.”

Giving the cans one last look, Applejack shook her head. “No sense in worryin’ ‘bout it now. We got other things to focus on.” She reached and grabbed one of the steel can’s handle in her teeth, then carried it to a steel box that sat in front of the tank.

Bill quickly grabbed the other can, and joined her.

Opening the cabinet, they found an electric pump with a meter, the later reading 8,063 gallons pumped.

“Huh, this looks like it only holds a thousand gallons at best, so they must not have reset the meter since filling it. Looks just like the metering system when I fill my propane tanks,” Bill noted, looking over the piping and meter. “Strange, no way to even reset it. That makes no sense.”

Applejack, looking over the control system for the pump, noticed an unsettling, yet familiar looking, box placed near what she’d assume to be the on/off switch.

“Bill, look.”

“What? Oh, no way.”

The box was the same kind of screen looking contraption which they’d used to unlock their rooms.

“So, what does that mean then?” Bill asked himself quietly.

With a shrug, Applejack placed her hoof on the screen. Sure enough, the screen turned amber, the mysterious rune like figures dancing on the screen, and then it flashed green.

Suddenly, the mechanical meter started spinning backwards slowly, then progressively getting faster and faster, causing it to rattle and shake the plumbing it was attached to.

Both Bill and Applejack stepped back, alarmed.

The meter hit 8,000, then 7,500, 6,500, 5,000… faster and faster, until it got to about 100 gallons and slowed down exceptionally.

80.

30.

20.

14.

8.

4.

2.

1.

The meter’s violent vibrations stopped, and with a final groan it struck 0.

Pony and human gulped, then looked at each other.

“If’n that implies what I dare think it implies…” Applejack began, but stopped.

Bill rubbed the top of his head. “They went through a lot of fuel.”

He then turned to look at the damaged refueling truck, and back to Applejack.

“We might need to consider getting that fixed,” Bill added.

As much as she wanted to argue the point, say they had more important things to focus on, she could already see the sense in what he said.

If the previous occupants of this place had gone through so much fuel, it was safe to figure they too might go through a similar quantity. The drive to this station as it was took them nearly thirty minutes, and having to drive back and forth with a few small cans would certainly take more time than having a movable source of fuel, even considering the time it might take to fix the vehicle.

“I’m gonna fill these cans, then the 469. After that, let’s check out the building, see if there’s something worth while in there, and before we leave I’ll look over the fuel truck to see if it’s even repairable here, or if we gotta somehow drag it back to the garage.”

“A’right. Anything I can do to help with the fuel?”

Bill grabbed the fueling nozzle, looking it over curiously. “Not like the car pumps from home, but I’m also not sure your hooves could use this thing.”

“Then I’ll go ‘nd check the station quick like, save some time.”

“Okay, just, be careful. Something still unsettles me about the fact that they needed guns, let alone making them hoof friendly.”

The thought of quickly grabbing the shotgun from the vehicle crossed the mare’s mind, but surely Bill was just being overly cautious.

“All good, Sugarcube. Best get ‘r done, I’ll be out quick.”

Bill let out a small laugh. “Yeah, okay. I’ll find you if I finish first.”

Applejack snorted a laugh herself, then began walking towards the front door of the station building. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for, but anything of general use would be appreciated.

12: Search and be Rescued

The door to the building was closed; originally glass the top window had been broken out and was now boarded up. The handle, a simple twist knob, seemed to be intact, and using her hoof she managed to turn it and to her shock the door opened, swinging inside.

It was extremely dark, save for where a few cracks of sunlight shone through the boarded up windows, and the doorway she’d just opened up.

To her left looked to be a counter with a bit register on the top, and some empty displays for odds and ends. To her right were shelves, long since ransacked and holding nothing but molding cardboard boxes and several emptied wrappers of candy she didn’t recognize.

Straight ahead was a wall of glass doors, lining from one end of the building to the other.

Stepping inside further, she squinted her eyes to try and make out any sort of switch to turn on a light, if they even worked. Her hoof kicked an empty soda can, causing it to go sliding away with a clatter.

From the shelves, another sound echoed in the store, of falling debris and a mouse-like skittering.

The mare hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she let out a sigh, shaking her head.

“Come on now, probably just a lil mouse lookin’ fer some crumbs,” she said to herself.

She walked up to the counter, rearing onto her hind legs as she placed her hooves along the dusty top to look for anything useful. Nothing immediately screamed at her, as even the open and discarded drawer to the register was empty.

Looking behind the counter found her little else useful, but did pique her curiosity.

A discarded box, empty, looking just like the one they had in the bag filled with shotgun shells. Surrounding the box was about a half dozen spent shells. Leaning down, she poked one of the shells with a hoof, and noticed there was a thinner layer of dust under it than on the rest of the floor.

Someone, or somepony, had been behind this counter in recent times, and had resorted to violence.

Finding little to nothing else, she turned around, just in time to hear the skittering from before, and something plastic rattling on the floor.

“B-Bill? That you, sugarcube?”

No response.

Now a shiver ran down the mare’s spine, causing her to flick her tail to settle her nerves.

Taking one step, then two, she walked towards the glass paneled doors, although it was hard to see through the dust and grime that coated the glass. Picking the door that the light from outside focused on, she approached to investigate.

There were long, vertical handles over half way up the door, making it a challenge to even reach them unless she stood upright. Instead she took a foreleg and wiped at the glass, peering inside the best she could.

Empty holders lined the two shelves she revealed, looking like they held things such as canned or bottled beverages, considering the discarded empties that littered the floor.

Looking down the row of glass doors, the natural sunlight coming through one of the boarded up windows shone and reflected off one of the glass panels, and something caught her attention.

Stepping closer, she saw dark streaks running along the door, covered in dust, but as she followed them with her eyes she took a step back in horror.

There was a hand print, left by a human.

And then she realized the dark stains were dried, old blood.

Something clattered to the floor to her right, at the shelves, and she had enough time to turn and look when something lunged at her.

Applejack screamed, not in a girlish fear, but genuine shock and surprise, as a small rodent of some type landed on her back and bit down hard.

“Goll darn in, get off!” Applejack yelled, and began to buck around, kicking wildly and stomping her hooves in an attempt to remove whatever was on her back.

Her left hind hoof caught the glass door, shattering it and sending glass all over herself and her assailant, which seemed undisturbed by anything going on.

Finally, the mare turned her back to the shelves, and lunged, sending herself into the heavy steel shelving. It didn’t fall over from her impact, but it rocked in place, sending debris to the floor, as well as her assailant.

Moving quickly, and doing her best to ignore the dribbling of what she assumed to be blood down her back, she spun around and went to stomp whatever it was.

She froze, this time in horror.

It was a large rat, nearly twice as large as a typical Equestrian one. Worse yet, it was covered in several bald spots, those naked areas looking to be half decayed. Blood dripped from its mouth, half the little whiskers gone. Its eyes, glowing a sickly dark red, bore into her, causing the mare to choke on her own scream of terror.

“Applejack!?”

A tall silhouette shaded half the doorway, whom exactly by appearance it was impossible to tell but by voice alone it was obvious.

Before Applejack could say anything, the rat hissed and launched for the mare again. Defensively, she put up her foreleg, which the rat had no issue with biting down onto.

“Gah! Damn varmint!”

The mare began waving her hoof wildly, and using her other to smack the rat into releasing her. Before she could get a third hit in, like a flashbang the overhead lights flickered to life, casting the room in a dull fluorescent glow, with several of the fixtures flickering and humming.

The rat, suddenly in the light, let out a shriek and released the mare’s leg, and attempted to scurry away.

“Oh Hell no you don’t!”

Still trying to regain her vision, Applejack heard something be hit with a thwack, Bill grunting, and then a loud squish sound.

After several blinks, she felt a hand rest on her shoulder, causing her to instinctively flinch back.

“Hey, hey Jackie it’s okay, it’s me. Calm.”

“Right, right, sorry Bill. Just…”

“Oh wow, that thing did a number on you.”

“Where is it?”

Her eyes finally adjusted to the light, the human pointed a bloody crowbar towards the counter, where a very squashed rat laid, and a single bloody boot print coming towards them.

“It tried to get away, but I wasn’t about to let that thing eat and run.”

Applejack blinked, then looked at Bill with a horrified expression.

He too blinked, then cringed at his own words.

“Okay, so too dark of humor then?”

She nodded her head. “Too soon, at least.” Applejack went to put her weight on her injured hoof, only for some pain to shoot up her foreleg.

“Hang on, sit tight. I’ll go grab the first aid kit in the bag,” Bill said, and left before getting a response.

Sitting on her haunches, Applejack let out a shaky breath, holding her leg up as it bled. She could feel the blood running down her spine and towards her dock, and knew showering tonight would be a major pain.

Bill quickly returned, and kneeled once again beside her

“Okay, let's see what this thing actually has.”

Undoing the belt-like clasp, he opened it and dumped the contents on the floor.

One roll of gauze, a few unopened gauze squares, several empty bandaid wrappers, a pair of nail clippers, and a half empty pint of vodka fell onto the floor.

“Honestly, I’m not sure what I expected, so I can’t be surprised,” Bill said, tossing the bag to his side.

“Well, hopefully there’s enough gauze there fer my leg ‘nd back.”

“Right, and if that’s still alcohol, it will clean the wounds.”

Applejack took the bottle in her uninjured hoof, twisted the cap off with her teeth and spat it to the ground, then took a swig.

“Yeah, still vodka a’right. Cheap stuff, too.”

“I should be scared you did that without any hesitation, but for now I’ll ignore it.”

With all of that out of the way, Bill got to work. First was her leg, which wasn’t as bad as it looked. Cleaned and wrapped, he had her stand, which her leg gave only the smallest bit of protest to. With the wound on her back, near the nape of her neck, he cleaned the wound the best he could, using up the last of the bottle of vodka (after AJ took one last swig for good luck). Then placing the last of the squares over her wound, he looked at what was left of the gauze roll.

“I don’t think it will need stitches, which is good because the last time I sewed was the fifth grade for arts and crafts.”

Applejack chuckled. “Been doin’ it fer most of my life. I could talk ya through it.”

“Yeah, well, let's just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

There was a brief bit of silence.

“I wish we had something to tape the wrap with, but I might have to use what’s left and wrap it around you, then tie it.”

“That’s good, otha wise ya gotta shave the fur off so the tape, if we had any, would stick.”

“Which I’d rather not, nor do we have any.”

“Yeah, last time I got hurt ‘nuff fer a shavin’ everypony couldn’t look at me without laughin’.”

“Where was it?”

“Nu uh, I ain’t tellin’.”

“Oh come on, now you really have to tell me.”

As Bill wrapped the cloth bandage around her barrel and back, the mare finally let out a huff.

“My left flank.”

“Remind me again, what’s the flank on a horse? Er, pony?”

Reluctantly, Applejack pointed to her left cutie mark.

“Snerk.”

“Bill!”

“I’m sorry, I was not expecting that!”

As much as she wanted to smack the human, he was still busy dressing her wounds, and figured it would be a bad idea to bite the gift human on the hand.

After tying a knot the best he could, Bill began putting the little remains of the emergency kit back into the red cloth satchel.

“Well, that’s the best I can do. Your back has a lot of blood stuck in your coat, so it’s gonna be a tedious cleaning with that wound.”

“Jus’ hope I don’t get no infection from that thing.”

Both looked to the still very squished rat.

“I really hope it can only turn other rats into zombies.”

“Yeah…”

Both then looked to the other.

“Don’t be mad if I gotta, you know…” Bill said, then gestured with his hand, making a gun and pointing it to his head, followed by making his thumb move down and crossing his eyes, tongue out.

Applejack frowned.

“Still too soon?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, still too soon.”

With a shrug, Bill picked up the first aid bag while he stood up.

“Well see if I ever try to lighten the mood again.” He looked around the store. “So, since I’m here already, I’ll help you look around.”

“Sure, thanks.”

“Of course. Having another set of eyes in case you overlook something, or heaven forbid, another zombie rat appears.”

“Bill.”

“Why, me and my trusty crowbar can defend you from their evil zombie ways.”

“Bill…”

“I could be like John Freeman! Or wait, is that his brother?”

With a crack in the air, Applejack’s tail whipped around and smacked Bill on his butt, causing him to jump forwards and nearly drop the crowbar.

“Holy shit that’s smarts! I didn’t know you could whip that thing like… like a whip!”

“My tail is very talented, and DON’T take that in a dirty way.”

Bill blinked, then zipped his lips.

With a deep sigh, the mare began walking down the aisle with the coolers to her left, looking for anything useful, while Bill took the next aisle over.

At first they searched in silence, which lasted for maybe all of two minutes.

“So, ya got the gas?” Applejack asked.

“Yeah, even topped of the truck. Our truck, that is. I was about to investigate the other one but then I heard you scream.”

“Well, thanks all the same fer comin’ to my rescue.”

“Of course. Just, don’t expect a fedora tip from me.”

“Huh?”

Chuckling, Bill waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

And then silence took over once more, until going down the third aisle Bill began laughing.

“No way. No flipping way.”

“What did ya find?” Applejack asked, then abandoned her aisle to investigate.

She found Bill at the far end of the farthest forward aisle, looking away from the wall.

“Well, I found the goods. We can go home now.”

Confused, Applejack walked closer, then inspected what had the human’s attention.

It was a magazine rack, mostly covers she couldn’t read, however there was one shelf that housed sealed magazines, covered with black paper.

The mare facehoofed. “Don’t tell me…”

“Oh yeah, nudie mags. Better yet, some of these are even in English.

Bill reached down to hand her the magazine, but she made no such movement to take it.

“I don’t want that!”

Laughing again, Bill shook the magazine in front of her face. “Oh come on, aren’t you at least a little curious?”

“Hay no! Get that away from me.”

Laughing still, Bill placed the magazine back into the sleeve and set it, alarmingly to Applejack, a small pile already started on the floor.

“Suit yourself,” he began, then reaching for another magazine on the rack, “more for me to-”

Suddenly, the human froze. Now it was his turn to look disgusted as he slowly, carefully, placed the magazine back into the sleeve.

“What? Find a dude’s only copy?” Applejack let a chuckle out, but much to her surprise the human offered the enclosed magazine to her.

This time, simply for the joking nature, she took it and drew it out.

On the cover was a hunk of a stallion, much similar build to her brother, only with mutton chops, Haywaiian button up shirt open, and sporting his equipment on full display.

“Yeah, you could say that…” Bill said with a shudder, then turned around.

“Huh, well… impressive at least. This is some vintage PlayMare.”

Now with roles reversed, Applejack removed a couple of other magazines, looking them over.

“And here’s an older PlayColt. I know this ‘cause my brother has this one, was one of our Pa’s.”

“It was bad enough realizing you’re just always naked, but now this…”

“We all gotta grow up eventually,” Applejack placed the magazines back onto the shelf. “Welp, in for a bit.”

Curiously, Bill turned back around to watch the mare take one of the magazines he had grabbed, then pull it out to look at it.

“Huh. Wasn’t expectin’ that, but okay. I can see it,” she said as she looked between the magazine cover and Bill.

“Okay, this entire joke backfired. I surrender.”

“Atta boy.”

Placing the magazine back into the sleeve, she laid it back down on his stack. The two then stared at each other, and occasionally the stack of magazines. With a huff and roll of her eyes, AJ grabbed several of the Equestrian magazines, no specific ones just at random, and placed them on his pile.

“Carry those, would ya? My back still hurts.”

Sighing, Bill leaned forward and grabbed the stack of magazines.

“Well, nothing else looks to be worth anything in here,” he said.

“Yeah, shame, but now we know. Close this place up and never come back.”

“Except for gas,” Bill added, the two now walking towards the open door.

“Right.”

“And if we run out of our reading material.”

“Pfft. Doubtful.”

“Well I’m pretty sure we will know when one or the other is done with them.”

They stepped outside, and using her tail AJ closed the door with a slam. “How so?”

“We are next to each other, our rooms I mean. And we share a bathroom.”

“So?”

Bill stopped, magazines still in his hands and crowbar slung over his left wrist. He looked down at the mare with a raised brow. At her continued confused look, Bill wiggled the magazines, then did a motion with his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

It took Applejack several seconds before she gasped, her face turned red, and her tail flicked in agitation. “Now that ain’t funny!”

“Why else are we taking them then?”

“Ta read, numbskull!”

“Who the Hell reads porno mags?”

“We will, since we can actually understand ‘em!”

“Oh, right. That’s actually a fair point. Damn, can’t believe I’ve fallen so low. My father would be disappointed.”

“My brother would just laugh himself silly.”

Another round of chuckles, and the two returned to the truck and placed their goods on the back seat.

“So, we got some gas. What’s our game plan then?” Bill asked, looking around them and noting where the sun was positioned.

“I’d say we got about, oh, two hours of daylight left.”

“I thought the same. So, about that gas truck,” Bill started and thumbed behind himself at said vehicle, “two flat tires, one of the rear axels are bent which I didn’t even know was possible. I didn’t get to even touch the cab because I heard you shout.”

“So, in other words, it’s a basket case.”

“Yeah, but I mean, could be worse? Might be able to change the tires out here, and if we get that other truck going, use it to pull this one to the shop and finish it up.”

With a pensive nod, Applejack began making her way towards the refueling truck.

It was pretty obvious, the drivers side was all battered and beat up. Both tires on that side were also flat, and she didn’t know which axel was bent but took Bill’s word for it. The human opened the cab door and jumped in, and turned the key, surprised to see gauges move and lights come on.

“Well, that’s kinda cool.” He went to turn it over, and it gave a slow crank over, but then stopped and started clicking. “Nope, dead. Well, I could pull the battery out and bring it back with us, charge it up for next time we come out here. Maybe load up a couple of tires.”

“Just one tire, Bill. There’s a spare here between the cab and the tank.”

Surprised, Bill looked behind himself in the window, and sure enough he could see the top edge of a tire.

“Huh, how did I miss that?”

“Small, squinty human eyes maybe?” Applejack said with mirth.

“Hey now, I’ll have you know we have some amazing eyesight.”

“Uhuh, sure Bill. Lets just look fer this battery ‘dn head back. By then it’ll be time fer dinner ‘nd we can plan the next day.”

With a nod, Bill stepped out of the cab, then began circling the truck. “So, uh, any chance you know what a battery might look like to help search too?”

1: Waking Up is Hard to Do

Author's Note

Welcome, welcome! Now, I know you're all probably gonna start on me about "ROB you already have several stories in the works, why another one?" or "ROB have you quit drinking again?"

The answers are because I'm an adult, and no, God no, I'd probably die or something.

So anyway, this story has no real plan for it, except it's basically something I'm going to be working on whenever I fuck up in Snow Runner (the game this fic is loosely based on), have to step away because I just lost 2 hours of work, but still feel up for this torture so I'll write about it instead. Cool my head, get out some of the frustration, then get back to the game.

Sounds grand, don't it?

Anyway, as mentioned on the story card, I do not have anyone lined up to pre-read or edit, and I'm not really worrying too much about it, however if this happens to any of your fancies and you'd like to come aboard, by all means PM me or Discord message me, and we can hook up.

Get it? Hook up... cause you gotta use winches in this game all the fucking time.

Hope you guys enjoy this, because trust me, I'm gonna be venting a lot about this game. Also, once intro chapters are done and I actually get this thing rolling on the plot, I'll start doing blog posts to go with those chapters.

1: Waking Up is Hard to Do

This morning, like most mornings, started with the early rising sun hitting her eyes.

Applejack, apple farmer extraordinaire, grumbled as she tried to roll over on her bed to get the jump on her alarm clock.

Instead, she promptly rolled down a short hill of grass and small rocks, which woke her up more and more with each impact. A tact far more apt to wake up the farm mare than the tinkling of her bedside clock.

While dazed and confused, she was still coherent enough to know something was amiss, and how to stop being amiss. She began slowing her rolling by bracing her legs to slow her fall, but not enough to risk breaking a leg.

After a particular nasty impact, which took the wind from her lungs, she halted, laying still, panting heavily as she fought to regain her breath.

“What…” she gasped, then coughed violently. “What was that!?”

Looking around herself, Applejack could only see grass, rocks, and trees. It all seemed to never end, moving up and down with hills, valleys, and off in the distance, a single tall mountain.

This wasn’t her bedroom, or Sweet Apple Acres. Tartarus, this wasn’t even Ponyville!

She shook her head to dispel any lingering cloudiness, then sat up, forelegs shaking from the sudden adrenaline rush. She looked left, then right. Forward, and finally craned her neck backwards, peering upside down at, shocker, more trees.

Not Apple trees, though.

Returning her head to look forward, Applejack scratched her blonde mane, the absence of her hat already giving her head a funny, light feeling.

"Well, this ain't no good."

A gentle breeze responded by making her loose mane wrap around her face. She frowned, and the hoof was now parting her long hair strands so her eyes could see again.

Nope. Still a bunch of trees, mud, and rocks.

The first thoughts to go through her mind seemed the easiest to either confirm suspicion of, or rule out, so she cleared her throat to call out, noting the scattering of clouds above.

“Alright, Dash, Pinkie, if this here is one of yer pranks, har dee. Come on out, got me right good ya did.”

Not a single cloud moved with an excited twitch, nor did any rainbow patterned hair appear over a cloud edge. Looking back down, none of the close shrubbery vibrated with eager energy and giggles, or showed signs of bright pink.

Hrm. Okay, normally for a prank like this they wouldn’t drag it on for too long, I’ll give it a few minutes.

And as a few minutes came and went, Applejack stood up, brushed off her coat to inspect for any cuts or bruises, then started walking up the small incline which she’d come tumbling down.

“Alright, fine. Twilight? Rarity? Either of you two here? Did’ja do another spell and botch it?”

She walked up the hill, looking to either side, ears twitching for any sounds of movement from anywhere, or any voices calling out for her.

Still, silence, and the gentle sway of trees in a light breeze.

“Flutters?” she called out as a last chance of hope.

Stopping at the top of the hill, the farm mare found where she’d been laying, and was disappointed to find nothing but a spot of flattened grass where she’d been for an unknown amount of time, dozing away.

I should probably stop sleeping under my trees, gets me too comfy and I’ll sleep about anywhere.

She began walking around the flattened grass, searching, in a vain hope, for anything of familiarity in order of importance. Her hat (nope, too obvious and would stick out), her bed (naw, again too obvious), some of her scattered hair bands (bright red, and this is dull green grass, nadda).

Finally finished with her inspection of the top of the hill, the mare gave out a deep breath through her muzzle, sat down, closed her eyes, and slowly shook her head.

“Dang nab it. Just… damn it. Princess Luna! Ya there? Anywhere?”

No answer, no response. Then, she violently shook her head, giving her right side of her muzzle a light slap with her hoof.

“Alright girl, you’ve been lost enough, with or without the girls, to know what’s important, and what to do…” she said aloud, then licked her lips.

First thing’s first, stop talking out loud. Gonna dry yourself out and get thirsty. Water, need to find some clean water. Occasionally call out, see if anypony or creature answers. While doin’ this, mark some trees for direction in case somepony comes lookin’ fer me, or I get myself lost and need to retrace my steps.

Giving herself a firm nod of resolution, she stood, looked for the closest tree, and marched over to it. Along her way she found a hoof sized rock, and brought it with her.

Once there, she placed a hoof against the trunk, and reached out with her magic to feel the tree.

Yes, good and healthy, not too old, but old enough that some missing bark won’t kill it.

She removed her hoof, then taking the rock in the other she gave the tree trunk three solid whacks, enough to chip away three spots of bark, and leave small indents in the wood underneath. Then, using her iron shod hoof, she began to carve a very crude impression of her own three apple cutie mark, and lastly above it, an arrow pointing forward.

Once finished, she placed the rock between her shoulder blades, then gave the tree a couple of gentle taps.

“Thank ya kindly.”

Looking at her arrow, she peered off in the direction she’d chosen for herself, and began walking. With any luck, she’d find a small river, or at least a not too terribly contaminated body of water to get a drink.

—-------

Entering the tree line proper, Applejack was becoming less and less sure of where she was (lost, obviously) and more and more curious of these woods. Critters were scarce, she’d only seen a couple chipmunks and a lone rabbit, all of which took off upon seeing her, but nothing else. No obvious signs of timberwolves, bugbears, or anything else that hunted in the massive Everfree Forest.

I could not be in the Everfree forest, but with that large mountain off in the distance? Could be Mount Canterhorn, but considerin’ I didn’t see no Canterlot I must be on the back side of it.

Then again, there’s no way that is Mount Canterhorn. It’s laughably smaller, I could pick out the individual trees from where I was! Urg, okay, one thing at a time. I’ll worry about that once I know I’m safe.

She stopped for a moment, placing a hoof on a tree to feel its mood, but found it quite unforcoming. Some trees could be stubborn like this, but this was now the dozenth tree she’d tried, and save for that first one she’d carved in, none of the others in this forest wanted to speak with her.

The ability was there, she could feel it, but it was as if they turned their leaves to her.

She looked up at the towering timbers.

“Stubborn old coots, what’s wrong with you?”

There was, as was constant and expected, no answer.

Sighing, Applejack sat down for a spell, giving her legs a few minutes of rest. That was when her ears twitched, facing forward and slightly to the left. She smiled to herself, and casually began to follow the sound.

Breaking through the wall of trees, she found a small little brook, large rocks scattered about, but clean, fresh water was running from her left to her right, down a couple of twists and turns, and then out of sight.

Walking over, she leaned forward to drink, then stopped, eyes and ears scanning her surroundings. Her eyes looked where her ears couldn’t, and her ears aimed back behind her to listen for any movement.

After several seconds, she began to drink, and already was feeling better, letting her guard down for just a moment to enjoy herself.

And that’s when it jumped at her.

The apple mare jumped back, falling on her rump, eyes going crossed as she stared at the toad on her muzzle. With a huff, she flicked her head, sending it back to the water, where it croaked before jumping back onto a rock and sitting there, staring at her.

Applejack frowned, looking annoyed at the reptile. “That weren’t funny.”

It croaked again, then dove into the water, going along with the gentle current downstream.

Shaking her head, and letting out a small chuckle, she stood and leaned forward again to drink more, when something on the other side of the small river caught her eye.

So focused on the water, she hadn’t even seen the set of two tracks that ran alongside for several yards, then disappeared into the woods.

“Huh.”

She drank more, but her eyes were focused on the tracks.

Kinda unusual to be lugging wagons through the woods, but then again. Maybe if there’s a lot of hills, ponies have found more level ground paths to take. Would make sense, this being a good spot to stop and take a break, have a drink, then continue onto wherever they’s headin’.

After having her fill, she walked through the river, which was only about knee deep and low enough current to not overtake her.. Exiting the stream, she shook off each leg, then looked at either direction the track went.

To her left, the trail made a quick right turn into the woods, where she could see it weave between trees before vanishing from sight. To her right, the trail followed the river for several more yards, then did the same, turning into the woods and vanishing.

She stepped into one of the ruts, the dirt was wet, but not overly muddy.

If I had a bit, I’d flip it and just go with that. Oh, the rock!

She went to reach for it, but found it missing.

Oh, right, I’ve sat down several times, it’s back in those woods.

It wasn’t worth the effort, so sticking her tongue out, she concentrated on a tree, watching for movement.

Just then one of the leaves on the left twitched.

Applejack went to tip her hat in thanks, remembered she didn’t have it and frowned, but still thanked the tree and began walking in one of the tracks, and entering another set of woods, although these ones weren’t as thick and dark as the previous area.

—-------

Applejack had been walking for a solid hour, then decided to give her hooves another rest. She found a tree stump, surprisingly sporting a clean, smooth cut which made it flat, and perfect for sitting, and took a breather while she munched on the local grass.

Good. This here stump means ponies are, or were, around. Not green, but at least a year or two, so that’s something. Grass is also… edible. Not groomed and kept healthy like in Ponyville, but grass is grass.

Munching away, the farm mare watched a few birds fly overhead, circle once, then continue on. She could hear some branches swaying on the trees, possibly from squirrels or other critters moving about.

Usually the critters are a lot more friendly and chatty, but not here. Not unusual, just strange.

It left a small pit in her stomach that no amount of grass could fill.

I ain’t home, that’s fer sure. Just where am I?

She looked down the trail she’d been walking, and frowned. So far, all she’d found was a few tree stumps like this one, most older and rotting, save for the one she was currently sat upon (she wished she had her fiddle to take away some time), and other than that and the two tracks, nothing else hinted of any civilization.

No signs, no markings. She’d made a few more marks upon some trees of her cutie mark, but she figured now that she was on a trail, it didn’t matter much.

Moving the long stalk of grass from one side of her mouth to the other, she continued to sit there, contemplating, when her right ear twitched from a sound.

She heard it again.

No, not a sound, a voice!

Jumping from the stump, she began a brisk trot down the trail, and after rounding a third bend, she saw what looked like a break in the trees, and more importantly-

“A building! Thank Celestia!”

Now Applejack was full on running, ignoring the few spots of heavy muck, as she jumped from rock to rock, not having a care in the world other than she’d finally found somepony. And sure enough, a male’s voice called out once more, and she smiled.

“Hello!? Is anyone there?” he called out.

“Hello!” Applejack called out, now splashing through some water, splattering mud all over her coat.

“Hey! Someone’s here? Where are you at?”

She didn’t bother to respond, instead putting on more speed, until something hard and solid contacted her hooves, and she stumbled for a moment.

Asphalt? Out here!? Strange.

“Hello!? Where are you?”

Slowing down from her sprint, Applejack began trotting towards the building, and right away she saw a strange looking cart out front of the structure, in front of a massive rusted steel door.

That was for future investigation, but for now…

“Hey, sorry lemme catch my breath,” she called, then after gulping some air she continued, “been lost out in these woods fer hours now, trying to find somepony.”

“You too!?” the male’s voice called, sounding like he was behind the building and working his way to the front. “This is crazy, I was sleeping on my couch watching the TV when next thing I know, I’m laying in the mud!”

She wasn’t quite sure of what a TV was, but she let out a chuckle at the familiar feeling of being confused at where she awoke.

“I’m just mighty grateful to find somepony else, thought I’d be stuck out here fer ever.”

The mare stopped where the asphalt ended and concrete, which circled the building, began, and sat on her haunches as she waved a hoof at her face to cool herself.

Then, from around the corner of the building, a tall… something, appeared, covered in dirty, muddy clothes.

“You have no idea how glad I am to find someone else out here, never mind this place I stumbled upon like fifteen minutes ago.”

Applejack stopped and stared, frozen in shock, fear, whatever else that gripped her.

The tall figure seemed to ignore her, walking still, looking down as he brushed some of the dried mud from his pants.

“This stuff is like tar, just doesn’t wanna come off. I didn’t want to risk trying to wash it with nothing as a spare, but maybe-”

Finally, the figure paused, looking ahead at Applejack, several of the same facial expressions she was feeling crossing his face.

“Uh… welp…” Applejack coughed, trying to smile, but only half succeeded, “I guess this ain’t Equestria, huh?”