Fallout Equestria : The Stablefilly and The Beast

~~Daisy~~

Daisy tried to break out of her bonds with brute force, but that ended up doing nothing besides tiring her. She looked at the bobby pins Quilliam had thrown her, and an idea began to form in her mind. She noticed that the pins were already bent, so that was taken care of. She carefully inserted it into the lock along with the screwdriver and began twisting. She heard a snap.

One down, two more chances.

She continued with this until she was on her final pin, and she heard a loud click. That's when she realized she still had her hindlegs to unlock. Daisy was painfully aware of the fact the carriage was moving and Quilliam had probably abandoned her.

Why did I trust him!? Better yet, why did he leave me?

Her rage almost caused her to snap her final pin, but she noticed it was about to break and she quickly dropped her hold on it. She started again, and when she heard the click a loud sigh of relief escaped her mouth. She approached the edge, and quickly hopped out. Her inexperience in such endeavors caused her to stumble and fall. Her cutie mark of a bottle of painkillers with a plus sign formed from scalpels was scratched on both flanks from the fall.

When she got up and collected herself she galloped quickly towards the carriage to give Strong Arm and Quilliam a piece of her mind. The carriage was already a good distance away, and she almost fell on the cracked road multiple times. When she finally caught up, she found Quilliam and Strong Arm engaging in conversation like separated brothers. She hopped onto the driver's platform in a blind rage. The four pegasi and earth ponies pulling the cart groaned from the sudden new weight, and the cart slowed considerably.

"You!"

"Oh, hello Daisy. How was it back there?"

"Do you think you're funny? What, were you going to leave me to die after you reminisce with your old slaver friend!?"

Strong Arm chuckled and Quilliam smirked.  Daisy looked at him with confusion, and Quilliam's smirk grew into a full smile.

"Their destination was Barkley from the start. Either way we would have gotten there." He gestured next to him. "Have a seat. Your belongings are already laying here."

She continued to glare at him, but did as he suggested and donned her saddlebags. The terrain around them was composed mainly of large mountains with broken and charred trees anywhere you looked. There were a few houses here and there, and some had been repaired since the bombing.

"So you weren't going to leave me?"

Quilliam looked at her seriously.

"If I share my rations with you rather than adding you to them, that's a good sign you can trust me."

She continued to stare at him in silence for a moment, still not quite used to his cannibalistic nature, then decided to break the silence.

"So, what are we going to do in Barkley?"

"Well, a friend of mine there is a major whiz with all earth pony technology. She rewired one of those Para-bots or whatever they're called to send me a message. I used to keep everybody there safe, unless I was the attacker. I was a hitman, merc, et cetera, but also a vigilante and the closest thing to a sheriff the town ever saw. Apparently a gang has taken over and if I clear them out I'll have enough caps to do a Scrooge McDuck. All of the citizens have agreed to pay me, and I get to take all the caps and supplies the gang has amassed."

Strong Arm looked at Quilliam quizzically.

"Amira lives in Barkley now? That's good. I'm needing some upgrades."

"You're lucky we found your crippled form when we did."

Strong Arm looked at Quilliam with light anger and exhaled through his nose aggressively.

"You're never going to stop bringing that up, are you?"

"Nope."

The slaves pulling the carriage began to slow, and a griffon in the front row collapsed. The other slavers galloped up to punish him and get him back up, but the griffon then lunged up and tried to disarm one of the guards. After a brief tussle and a few stray bullets,  the unnamed griffon was tied up by his wings and tied to the back to be dragged. A few others had tried to escape during the battle, and they were tied up, too.

Daisy looked behind them with a look of disgust and pity as she realized the ones being punished were leaving a thin trail of blood behind them. She turned to Quilliam to see if he'd noticed, or even gave them a second thought, but was disappointed when she saw he was so desensitized he simply allowed them to go through the severe pain.

"We have to free them," she whispered. He looked at her and arched an eyebrow.

"Save who?"

"The ones being dragged behind us! Who else!?"

Quilliam shook his head and laughed. "Why would we go to the trouble of saving them?"

Daisy tried desperately to find a way she could convince Quilliam and Strong Arm to release them.

"They're leaving a blood trail. They'll give us away."

Quilliam rolled his eyes, and Strong Arm looked at the pair quizzically, but remained silent.

"It's a road. It doesn't take a genius to figure out where we're headed. Especially when we're less than two miles away from Barkley."

The remaining slaves pulling them turned a corner with a groan from both the slaves, and the vehicle's wheels. Now she could see a town in the distance. There were pre-war buildings and new buildings. All looked equally terrible. Being used to the mechanical and sterile architecture of her Stable, the rough town in front of them looked extremely primitive to Daisy.

"They're not going to be breathing before we make it to town."

"Look, it's up to you. You can try and free them if you want. The Wasteland is about freedom above all else. But I'm not going to help you. You're on your own if you try to free them."

Daisy glowered at Quilliam while Strong Arm continued to ignore the conversation, knowing the inevitable ending.

"Fine. Some help you are. But when we get to Barkley and they're nothing more than corpses, you'll have yourself to thank."

This time it was Strong Arm who responded.

"I don't care if they die. They tried to kill us and escape. They need to die."

Daisy sighed, and gave up.

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

As they neared Barkley, Daisy noticed a building to the side that looked like it had survived the bombing. It looked like a factory or something similar, possibly to support the war effort. Apparently Quilliam noticed it, too, as he hopped off of the carriage without a word. She followed quickly after, saying goodbye to Strong Arm. Quilliam was waiting for her halfway to the nearby building.

"Come on, Daisy. We still need to make it to Barkley by tomorrow morning. We're just making a brief stop for some looting."

"Looting? Isn't that like...stealing?"

"Not from the dead. That makes it ours by the international law of go fuck yourself."

She sped up to catch him, as he continued walking as he talked to her.

"That was rude."

Quilliam nodded blankly as he opened the door for her.

"You're still surprised?"

She looked at him in confusion.

"You tell me to go fuck myself one moment, then you're holding a door open for me the next?"

He nodded again.

"I can be chivalrous while still being rude. Now go on in. We don't have all day."

She did as he ordered and entered the building. She could see nothing of any importance in the main room, but there were  three doors leading in different directions. One very clearly said "Bathrooms" above it, so she ruled out that direction. The labels on the other two were unreadable.  Quilliam entered behind her without her noticing.

"Forward. Let's go directly forward. Creatures almost always go straight, so there will be less traps. Normally I'd go right, but you're a beginner. I don't want somepony who's possibly my great great granddaughter get her head blown off."

Daisy's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Wait...what was that?"

Quilliam shook his head and didn't respond.

"It was nothing. I'm getting tired of carrying this massive baggage. You can drop your bags if you want, too. We don't need to  strain ourselves while we're exploring a building that might hold nothing of interest."

He dropped his bags, exposing his cutie mark. It was a phoenix feather quill in an inkwell. Daisy looked at it in confusion, wondering how an author could possibly thrive in the Wasteland. He opened the door slightly and laid a primed mine on top as a lethal version of the old prank. She followed him through the door ahead, and they were greeted by a large room with a narrow platform spiraling up into the ceiling. She tried to see the end, but she could not. Quilliam took a pack of cigarettes out of a pocket in his armor and lit one. He too seemed to be trying to find the end of the infinite spiral as he placed the cigarette in his mouth.

"Well, we aren't going to get anywhere by standing here. Let's get moving."

The trip took almost an entire hour of climbing the ramp, and the incline steepened near the end. Daisy's hooves slipped out from under her when she was only five feet from the room at the top. Quilliam grabbed her by her mane and horn and threw her into the room above. She landed on top of what appeared to be a set of military grade combat armor fitted for the more muscled form of a stallion and a helmet with a hole for a horn in it, but the helmet skittered out of the room from the force of her fall. Quilliam entered not moment after and Daisy leaped up and glowered at him.

"That hurt!"

"Would you have preferred me to let you slide under the railing and fall to your death?"

His eyes were drawn to the armor underneath her.

"What have we here? That's quite a find."

He began to remove his armor of metal plates and scrap. Daisy stepped off of the armor and noticed a 10mm submachine gun laying on a nearby table along with a box of ammunition for it. There were also a set of extended magazines laying next to it, all loaded. She hesitated, but grabbed them as Quilliam was preparing to leave the room.

"All the other doors in this room are blocked off. Let's head back down and try the other direction."

Quilliam threw his cigarette butt over the railing as they left the room. When they finally arrived at the bottom again, Daisy was exhausted. It was a steep climb going up, but she had to hold on for dear life on the way down. When they entered the room, they found the unsearched route's door open, and an adolescent colt looking through their bags. Quilliam groaned as when he saw the colt.

"I should have known. Hey! Kid, get away from our packs!"

The colt swung around with a plasma pistol in his mouth, a look of shock and fear, yet somehow determination on his face.

Quilliam pulled his gun and aimed it at the kid,  but Daisy stepped between them.

"Kiddo, if you just give us our stuff back we'll leave peacefully."

The foal grabbed the two bags protectively. Quilliam glared at him and straightened his aim.

"I slept in a sleeping bag made of foal pelts once. Do you think I'm afraid of some thief?"

Daisy looked at Quilliam as if he was crazy, then turned back to the teenager.

"He's just trying to scare you away."

"No I'm not. I'm dead serious, no pun intended."

The teen looked a little bit scared of his lack of mercy, but accidentally set his plasma pistol to fire. Quilliam moved his head to the side and it barely seared his mane. He responded to the action by planting a bullet in the colt's chest. His pain was obvious as he screamed and fell to the ground, blood pouring out of the wound. Quilliam approached and shot him in the head, killing him.

"What's wrong with you!?"

Quilliam looked back at her with confusion.

"Would you have preferred me to let him take our belongings and melt me with pure plasma?"

"He was just a kid!"

"Correction: A kid who tried to kill me and was robbing us."

"You didn't have to kill him!"

"The only other option would be to cripple him, which would be much worse in the Wasteland. You should be happy I didn't leave him to bleed out in agony."

"You're sick!"

"What would you have done?"

Daisy remained silent for a few moments.

"Exactly."

Quilliam pocketed the pistol and searched the child's body, then sighed.

"Nothing...Oh well, grab your bags. Let's go."

She looked at the corpse with remorse, then grabbed her bags right before the pooling blood got on them.