The Equestrian Apocalypse

— Trixie —

Trixie gazed out of the third-story window. Celestia’s sun was making its way down as the windows across the street reflected its orange glare. Below her, the train station horde was very slowly dispersing. She had hoped most, if not all, of them would have cleared out by now so they could make their way down the street and check for trains. However, she noticed from time to time that a few stragglers would appear and join in the fuss. The city seemed to be an endless trap of zombie ponies, and the sooner they could leave, the better.

She looked down the street towards the train station. It sat elegantly in the center of the block, hosting a wide flight of stairs out front. She took note of two bodies laying on them, cringing as she saw what looked like an intestine laying beside one. Since yesterday, and especially overnight, the city had gone from terrible — to unbelievably terrible — to outright collapse.

She looked back inside at Misty. That was the name of the mare who had done them wrong. She was laid out, asleep, next to the couch the others had dragged into the room. She was hogtied using the rope of sheets she had tried to escape with. Trixie, Vinyl, and Split had all worked together to tie her up after Trixie hit her with the freeze spell, but they struggled to figure out what to do with her. The mare persisted that they let her go, but the group had enough reason to keep her tied up for their own safety. For the past twenty-four hours, they took turns keeping an eye on her until they could come up with a new plan.

Yesterday, after debating whether to take their chances of an escape, they were forced to stay the night when Trixie fell ill. While her illness intensified through the day, Split and Vinyl swept through the apartment building. They worked together to barricade the staircase after looting the second floor, deeming the floor itself a threat as zombie ponies continued trying to get through the window they had busted. The third and last floor they were settled in now had three other apartments, two to each side of the hallway. The one across from theirs was completely empty, and the other two had been abandoned. Despite this, Split and Vinyl managed to stock up on food and supplies. Importantly, they had found antibiotics Trixie could use to fight her supposed infection.

Fortunately for them, Vinyl lost the symptoms of the zombie illness. Split, so far, did not show any symptoms either. But for Trixie, the illness continued along with symptoms from other illnesses. All together yesterday, she had numbing waves travel through her body, an on-and-off headache, waves of nausea, what felt like a low-grade fever, and bouts of coughing. After taking the antibiotics the others had found, she was feeling a lot better this evening despite continued symptoms.

Not only was she feeling better, but her magic still had not faded. Vinyl's magic was practically depleted, and the poor unicorn could barely even pick up a piece of paper with it. Even Misty told them about the few other living unicorns she had come across yesterday, describing that the fading of magic was a widespread problem. From what it looked like, nopony had magic anymore, except for Trixie. As they were pondering yesterday, she had a sudden realization when thinking about her hospital adventure.

The beakers ...

From the science lab! She remembered the strange lab, and the beakers on the table she had fallen on. She remembered the liquids from them spilling all over her, soaking into her, and the very odd feeling she felt in her horn when they did. Her body had completely absorbed them by the time she woke up from passing out. This worried her still, but the liquids causing her to retain her magic was nothing short of a miracle. The group wondered what was in the liquids, which caused them to ponder the idea of going back to the hospital to research.

There were reasons against this, however. It was very risky. The city had fallen swiftly over the past day, and backtracking the few blocks away from the train station would prove even riskier than yesterday. Even without the mob outside, they could not guarantee their safety rushing back. If they did get trapped again, it would be even harder to escape. And if they did find the liquids, then what? None of them were well-versed in medicine or medical science, so any liquids they found would seem foreign. It also wasn't proved if the liquids were related to a cure, as Trixie had still fallen ill to the virus.

Not long ago, she sat down with Vinyl 1-on-1 to discuss their plans. During their talk, they agreed that they still needed to flee the city, and heading to Canterlot was probably their best bet. The falling city alone created enough incentive to flee, and Trixie retaining her magic only accentuated this. She hoped she could find Princess Celestia in Canterlot and get the opportunity to talk with her. Hopefully, the princess would be able to guide her and use her to fix the disaster through some kind of cure. If there was a spell that could cure these zombie ponies, Trixie would stop at nothing to learn it and spread it through Equestria. She started thinking that maybe she was the one to stop this thing. Maybe the intense studying she had been doing had a purpose, and she was the chosen one.

She gazed outside again, wondering if she was well enough to fight through the mob. Her sightseeing was interrupted by Vinyl, who had been ‘clearing’ the rest of the apartment with Split just a minute ago.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I am,” Trixie protested.

Vinyl observed her standing up against the window on two legs. Trixie set her forelegs down and looked around inconspicuously as she walked up beside her. “How’s it looking?”

“Like shit.”

She did not need to describe it. Vinyl looked below at the busy street mob, realizing it had not cleared much since yesterday. She sighed at the dismal view before turning back to her. “Well, we aren’t going anywhere anytime soon, so why don’t you lay down?”

“I feel fine,” Trixie scoffed. Like clockwork, she suddenly burst into a coughing fit.

“See?” Vinyl shot back, “Get back in bed. The station will still be there when you feel better.”

Vinyl grabbed her shoulder and tried to pull her from the window, but Trixie retaliated. “No! The station-“ she started, interrupted by more coughing, “-the station will be there, but what about the train?”

“We don’t even know if the train is still in there! Come on, Trix, we gotta plan this right.”

She averted her eyes to look out the window again. “Listen … I will rest, okay? Just for a little bit though. We need to get a move on.”

“And how soon are you thinking, exactly?”

“We can go for it tonight.”

“Pssht,” Vinyl spat, “By the looks of you, you won’t be able to get downstairs.”

Trixie was quickly losing the little bit of patience she was trying to hold onto. She warmed up a shove spell but hesitated, ultimately canceling it. Vinyl noticed the gesture.

“Come on, Trix. Don’t be a tyrant. We’re in this together. I just want what is best for you.”

“I know, I know ... sorry.”

“Oh hey, before I forget, I got you something,” Vinyl replied, walking off to a bag by the bedroom door. Trixie watched her pull out a dark chocolate candy bar, her favorite kind. She had mentioned it back at the hospital and was flattered that Vinyl remembered. She happily took the bar from her.

“So, did you find this when sneaking out with Split last night?”

Trixie grinned as Vinyl’s cheeks burned bright red. Clearly, Vinyl wasn’t aware she had been caught.

“N- no! I mean … yes … we were scavenging …”

“Uh-huh,” Trixie replied sarcastically, “Anyway, thank you for this. I love these things.”

“You’re welcome.” Vinyl laughed nervously, turning to see Misty. The gray pony was moving around in her sleep now. She was likely interrupted from her rest by the two raising their voices. A few seconds later, she opened her eyes and raised her head to look at them. She noticed their blank stares.

“What?” she hissed.

Vinyl turned back to Trixie to avoid conflict as the two had not gotten along at all the past day. Trixie was not a fan of the mare either, but she could tolerate her a lot more than her or Split. From the few small conversations they had with the mare, she seemed aggressive and moody. Whatever her problem was, she was not very comforting to talk to, especially now.

“Musical bitch,” the mare jeered, before curling up with her tied legs again.

Vinyl turned to confront her, but Trixie set a hoof on her shoulder. “Let me try to talk to her,” she whispered in her ear. Vinyl returned an unapproving face, seemingly disgusted by the idea. Eventually, she reluctantly nodded and backed off.

“Hey,” Trixie said, stepping up beside the mare. This was only the second time Trixie had tried talking with her one on one, and the first time only lasted a couple of sentences. She hoped for more this time, but the mare ignored her. Agitated by her rudeness, Trixie leaned in close to Misty’s ear. “I said hey.”

The mare slowly turned, annoyed by Trixie’s direct approach. She leaned in close enough for their foreheads to almost touch. “Go away.”

“What is your problem?” Trixie asked.

“Are you serious? Look at me. You blind or somethin? If you wanna fix the problem, let me fucking go.”

“Go where? You want us to throw you to the mob?”

“No, but I can distract them. I could get you morons out of here too.”

“Oh, how nice of you,” Trixie scoffed, “Especially after practically feeding us to them.”

“I didn’t WANT to. I already TOLD you.”

The mare had described in detail why she did what she did yesterday. After she was trapped in her apartment by stragglers of the nearby train station mob, she planned the distraction she used in the alley. Originally, she did not expect Trixie and them to be there, but she decided they would only help distract the mob. This desperation was caused by worry about her sister, who had the zombie illness. The night before the outbreak, Misty helped her get to the hospital. They admitted her for an overnight stay, and Misty believed she was still trapped there. While Trixie and Vinyl insisted the hospital was not safe, the mare refused to abandon her plan to go and check it.

“Look, we will let you go. But not now. Once it's safe, we will go our separate ways.”

“Like shit!” Vinyl objected, “How do we know the bitch won’t just follow us? Once it's safe, we will loosen her ties and get out of here. That’s it.”

“Vinyl, please. There are three of us. We can hold onto our knives and go after she leaves.”

Vinyl was growing frustrated. She shook her head. “We will talk this over once we are getting ready to leave. By the looks of it, that isn’t anytime soon.”

Trixie started to argue back until another coughing fit interrupted her. She turned her back to them in an attempt not to spread whatever illnesses she was battling. After the fit would not stop, Vinyl stepped up and beat on her back with her hoof. It finally ended a few seconds later.

“Come on, Trix. You need to rest.”

“I know. But listen.” Trixie turned to Vinyl. “It’s what? 6, 7? I’ll go to sleep now if you promise to wake me up around 10.”

“What the fuck for?” Vinyl retaliated.

“You saw it last night. The mob nearly halved before that whole … incident … this morning.”

The morning incident Trixie was describing was them being awoken by a mare’s shouts right before Celestia’s sun rose. Split and Vinyl had gone to investigate the ruckus while Trixie annoyingly stayed back. The screams stopped, and when the two returned, they told her it was a mare in the alleyway. She had fallen victim to the mob and returned it to the size it was when they first broke in here.

“So? Even if the mob halves again, there are still too many. We might as well wait until tomorrow morning,” Vinyl pressed.

“No. We can use the dark of the night to get to the station.”

“Trix,” she huffed, “Gah- You are one stubborn ass mare, you know that?”

“I am aware.”

“Fine then. I will wake you up around 10. We can assess and then go back to bed.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Trixie replied, heading back to the room’s twin-sized bed. Easing onto the comfortable mattress, Trixie slowly fell into whatever anxiety-riddled sleep she could manage.