The Grey

by Drefsab

Rating: mature
Tags: Big Macintosh, Applejack, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Apple Bloom
Length: 3914

A short, three-chapter story based upon Cormac McCarthy's epic "The Road".

Three weeks after the end of all things, a once-proud farm mare from Ponyville seeks to guide the remnants of her family through the cauterized remains of their former home, where the promise of distant salvation is the only light in a cold, grey world.
(Work in Progress, 3 chapters planned)

Based upon the writing style of Cormac McCarthy's "The Road".

Published 2012-11-27 13:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-11-27 13:50:01 UTC

Remembrance

[(Author's note: This story attempts to mimic the unique writing style of Cormac McCarthy. It is a very different style than is found in the vast majority of books, with an emphasis on long, sometimes run-on sentences, descriptive imagery, and minimal dialog with no quotation marks to be found. To that end, I have tried to do such a vivid style some degree of justice, and I ask simply that you stick with it and give yourself a chance to adjust to it. I hope you enjoy reading the story just as much as I've enjoyed writing it.)]

-------------------The Grey-------------------

Three weeks.

Every morning for three weeks, she would reach out and touch her little sister's cheek, fearing the warmth of life had left her. She would reach out and feel a bit of hope return, a tiny glimmer of light in the oppressive gray that surrounded them. Her big brother stood watch over them both, up most of the night on a tireless vigil with hardly a word needing to be uttered. He gave her a comforting smile and she drifted back to sleep and dreamt the same dreams she'd had, night after night.

And the ashen world around her could not be escaped even there.

Morning.

Bright rays of sunlight streamed through her window, another day of bucking and gathering and selling and planting ahead of her. Hard work, but rewarding. She arose from her bed and stretched, stopping by her sister's room and watching her sleep for just a moment.
The smell of cinnamon met her nose and she inhaled deeply, smiling at the familiar scent. Downstairs, her grandmother would be preparing breakfast for everyone. Apple-Cinnamon rolls today.
She cantered downstairs and kissed her grandmother on the forehead and asked her how she was doing, and answered in kind. Her brother joined them with a few words and sat down and smiled at the freshly baked food in front of him, and they ate and talked and went their own ways.

Morning came and went, the dawn's painted sky giving way to a clear blue day as she toiled in the orchard. She removed her hat and wiped the sweat from her brow, resting under the shade of an old apple tree. One that had belonged to her parents many years ago, before the loss and the sadness and the memories. Now, it had become her little escape; a cool, comforting place to get away from the world. Only the serene rustling of the leaves in the light breeze that blew through the valley, and the cool earth beneath her hooves.
She offered a silent prayer for them both before placing the hat back upon her head and rising to finish the day. Later, friends would wait for her and greet her, and they would laugh and talk about their day. Not unicorns or earth ponies or pegasi. Just friends. They would gather and hug each other, maybe learn a lesson about life.
She reached out and embraced her pegasus friend.
The world turned to ashes.
And there was no more dreaming that night.

=====

She awoke later than usual, her brother letting her sleep a little while longer. Her little sister was already up and about, running circles around her big brother and laughing. They had each other, through the dying of the world. Nothing else mattered. Slowly, she rose from her sleeping bag and shook off the cool morning, walking to a near-by stream to splash her face with water and drink her fill. She placed her worn-in hat upon her head and glanced up.
There would be no clear skies today, just as there hadn't been since that day. Only clouds and the perpetual twilight of a day that was filled with neither the sun nor the moon.
A light breakfast that morning, all they could afford to spare. An apple and a few small bundles of hay, mixed into a soup.

For three weeks they walked from Sweet Apple Acres, going on a rumor that there was salvation on the coast. Zebra ships to take them to safety. Take them away from the gray and the death and the worry.
She returned from the stream to eat her soup with her siblings, her family. They sat around a small campfire and let the hot soup warm their stomachs, a gentle breeze blowing through the long, brown, dead branches of the trees around them like bones of a thousand burnt wings reaching toward the sky.

Are we getting closer? Her sister asked.

Yes, she replied simply, unable to bring herself to tell her sibling that she was completely unsure of how much longer it would be, or if there would even be a rescue at the end of their long journey. She couldn't crush her hope; it may have been the only thing keeping her going some days.

How soon will we be there?

Soon, promise, her brother answered with a slight smile. She wasn't happy with the answer, but it at least reassured her enough that she stopped asking more questions.

They packed their things in their saddle bags and loaded their equipment on their brother's strong back, the winding trail through the charred remains of the unknown forest stretching in front of them, at once comforting in its path off the main roads, but also disquieting in the unnatural silence around them. Once, they would have feared for their lives from all manner of creatures and mythical beasts. Now, all that remained were decaying husks and mottled bones. No buzzing of insects, no songbirds singing for a mate, no roars of distant predators. Just the babbling of the stream and the crunch of dry earth, and the rattling of the branches.

They walked for hours, stopping occasionally to rest and drink water and share food. Perhaps say a few words. There was little talking any more. Once, back when the world had ended, they had talked frequently of hopes and fears. Regrets and sorrows. Joys of a life that already seemed so distant, memories of friends and laughter. Her little sister remembering her endless attempts to find her special talent, her calling in life. So many tries, persistence that had to be admired. She would laugh and share stories with her siblings around the fire and bite back the lingering pain of what had once been.
Once in a while, her little sister would ask her to tell a story about the great adventures she'd been on with her friends, the other bearers of the elements of harmony. So she would tell the stories again, trying to remember every little detail that had slowly begun to fade from memory. Bits of color that rose to the surface like ancient frescoes uncovered by the wind.

It was during the long walks, the stretches of path or road laid before them, that she slipped into daydreams; her mind wandered to all manner of things. Thoughtless, like an automaton carrying out its only task in life.
Sights and sounds and half-remembered smells. Things she would never come back to. Could never come back to.
Her eyes moistened with tears and she blinked them away as the cold air bit at her cheeks and pushed back the lump in her throat.
She whispered to herself, hoping that it would carry on forever and reach ears that could no longer listen.

I'm sorry.

=====

The comfortable heat of the summer's night played against her coat and skin as she lay on her side, the countless stars overhead forming a tapestry that interwove itself with the milky belt that split the sky.
She reached out slightly and touched the cheek of her friend, her love, her secret. Deep maroon eyes stared back at her and she smiled and felt content with the world. Everything as it should be.

Will you stay with me tonight?

Yes, of course.

You'll be tired in the morning.

I'll manage. Always do.

I won't cause an issue?

Never.

Warmth rushed over her as her love's coat pressed against her own.

I'm sorry.

=====

With the sun nearing the horizon they came upon a house just off the road, a single story home of flaking white paint and ash-covered tiles. Fading purple drapes hung in the windows like tattered funeral wrappings. No signs of life.
She knocked on the door and hoped for a response. Nothing. Her brother gently pushed open the door and stepped inside before her, her little sister keeping close to her legs. Dusty furniture and molding food were all that greeted them. Down the hall, a bathroom. She tried the faucets but nothing poured from them and she searched for anything they could use.
Hoof prints on the floor from travelers before them, imprinted in the dust. Anything of value was probably gone by now. Even so, she heard her siblings looking through jars and barrels and cupboards. Her little sister said something she couldn't make out, an excited tone to her voice.
She left the bathroom and saw a door at the end of the hallway. The door was locked tight, whatever was inside would be important, she told herself. She would claim it for herself and her siblings and they would have more supplies for the endless walk. Maybe things to trade if she came upon another soul.
Spinning around, she pulled her legs back and thrust them out, bucking the door off its hinges and cracking it in two. A worried yell came from her brother.
Was she alright?
Yes, she was fine.

Stepping past the broken door she had the air sucked out of her lungs. To the right, a large bed with the remains of two ponies holding each other in eternal embrace. They looked as natural as the day they died together. She slowly stepped over to them and felt sadness and remorse over the two bodies she'd never known. Husband and wife? Maybe. The mare, an earth pony with a green mane and tail streaked with grey and a cream-colored coat, was adorned in a frilled saddle that remained beautiful even through the dust and the death, red like the brightest apple and glimmering with jeweled fringes. Her embraced lover, a unicorn with dark brown mane and coat, wore a black and white formal jacket with matching bow-tie, a gold pin accenting the fine fabric.
On a nightstand next to the bed, a bottle of pills and two glasses of dusty, molding wine marked the end of their lives; a mutual, painless way to escape what the world had become.
She stood in place and stared at them. Who were they? Had she ever met them? Only speculations now. She removed her hat and offered a silent prayer to the Goddesses for the ponies before her and hoped they had found peace. A long moment passed and she turned and left and promised she would return one day to give them a proper burial.

Returning to her siblings, she saw them sitting on the couch and going over their spoils.

Did you find anything? she asked her brother. He nodded an affirmative.

Yes. You?

No, she lied, wanting to spare her sister the details of what she had found.

We found some canned food and bottles of soda, her little sister explained with a smile on her face.

That's good, she replied, sitting down on the couch next to them and letting out a sigh as the first soft surface she'd felt in weeks met her tired body.

They debated taking all the food to go or eating some of it then and there and finally gave in and opened two of the cans. Peaches, the label said. Their big brother grabbed the bottles of soda in his mouth and twisted them between his hooves, the caps popping with a satisfying hiss. He placed them on the table next to his sisters and they passed the cans around and savored the sweet fruit. Her little sister started to cry, the food bringing back memories of better times, but she was strong and fought back the tears.

It's okay. I know.

She sniffled for a few moments and looked up at her big sister.

Can we stay here? Just for tonight? We can keep going tomorrow.

Okay. Just for tonight, she replied. But out here. The bed is gone. A little white lie wouldn't hurt. Better to stay near the exit anyway.

She cleared a spot on the couch for her sister and watched her curl up with her tail beneath her chin, nuzzling it like a comfort object, and kissed her forehead and covered her with a blanket she pulled from a saddle bag. Her brother placed a large plank against the door to keep out intruders and wanted to stay up again, but she protested and said it would be fine. They would hear someone coming long before they could be a threat. He begrudgingly agreed and said goodnight to his sisters and soon they were all asleep.
On the edges of consciousness, two finely-dressed ponies watched her and celebrated some unknown event, flitting away whenever she opened her eyes. She wondered if she would dream about them.

=====

Canterlot waited for her friends, but not for her. A white unicorn stallion with a blue mane and mustache had invited them all to be his guests of honor at a charity event. His thin, pretty wife with the pink mane batted her eyes and asked them all to attend, and they'd agreed and rejoiced at being the Very Important Ponies for that day.
She'd declined, much to the unhappy objections of her friends. The party sounded nice, but today was the start of harvesting week, and her brother would need all the help he could get. Hundreds of acres of apple trees waited to be bucked and their apples collected and stored. Ponyville depended on them. So did a few other places she shipped to, she explained. She would pace herself, she promised them. There wouldn't be a repeat of last year. She'd learned her lesson in humility. She'd even try to show up at the end of the day.
So she told them goodbye for now and strapped the saddle buckets to her back and bucked one tree after another. Red, ripe apples fell from their branches. Green ones, too. Trips to and from the storage silo, even stopping and taking a glass of ice-cold lemonade from her little sister and feeling the cold liquid wash down her throat. Thank you, she said. That's very generous.
Her little sister accompanied her for a little while after that, collecting stray apples and singing songs to keep their spirits up and occasionally trying her own hoof at bucking the apples from the trees.
She laughed and cheered as her little sister kicked a tree and sent several apples dropping from their branches, one of them falling on her head and eliciting a string of silly filly-swears from her before she looked over in embarrassment and laughed with her sister.

Towards the end of the day she sat down in her little clearing and rested under the tree by herself. A good, productive day. Clear blue skies turned orange and purple and red and all colors of the sunset and she closed her eyes and relaxed. She'd have to find her Gala dress when she went inside. There was still time to attend.

Distant rumbling. Thunder? No, the skies were clear. No pegasi darted overhead to change the weather. Maybe a spell. A unicorn practicing its magic. But no, nothing of the sort. Just the setting sun and the slowly rising moon.
A white streak, near the edge of the mountains, slowly climbing into the air with a shining, burning pinpoint of light at its source. She sat on her haunches and stared as it streaked into the atmosphere, beyond where she could see.
Seconds later, another white trail. And another. And another. So many of them that she couldn't count them all as they joined the first in their ascent to the heavens and burned with dozens and hundreds of points of light.
And she watched the beginning of the end of the world.

=====

Keep walking, she repeated to herself. Just keep walking. Soon the scent of the ocean will fill your lungs and the zebras will take you away from this. Maybe her friend, her love, had made it. Maybe she was waiting for them on the opposite shore right now, worried and excited and terrified of not knowing. Maybe it would go back to how things used to be.

Maybe.

In the distance, a road sign hung loosely from its post, its markings reduced to charred wood and peeling paint. She strained to make sense of the blackened lettering but couldn't make it out. As long as they headed east.

Keep walking.

The skeletal forest gave way to rolling plains, acres upon acres of dead grass and wilted crops. Her brother said they should stop and see if any of the food was good, so she consented and joined them in their search. Fly-ridden gourds. Pumpkins with vast, green splotches and caved-in walls. Mush. Nothing edible.
A few days ago, she would have cried. She would have laid down in the rotting vegetation and cried until her eyes burned. But not anymore. Only the end mattered, one that would free them from the tortured land that they used to call home.
A burned barn, bright embers still glowing in the murky light. Smoke wafted from the remaining fire in thin wisps of white and gray. One that very much reminded her of the one at home. The three siblings walked around the burned-out husk, searching for...what? They couldn't be sure.

A scream pierced the air. She rushed around the building and found her sister burying her face in her brother's shoulder. He pointed with a strong hoof, blackened by the ashes.
There. A tuft of hair, vibrantly orange. She kicked away a weakened plank, hoping against hope to find a living soul. Please, she begged to the Goddesses who no longer watched over her. Please let him be alive. Another plank, revealing the side of a head, burned and blistered. It rolled a short distance and stopped, the tattered remains of its neck dripping globs of congealed blood.
Her sister screamed again, louder. She tried to hide behind her brother and cried a desperate, confused cry.

Fire's too new, she finally spoke up. Her little sister said nothing, sobbing quietly into a tattered blanket she'd pulled from a saddlebag. It would have burned out by now.

It's not safe here, he said firmly. We need to go.

Another one, she thought. People are getting desperate. Desperate for shelter, for water, for comfort. For food. A society that was so beautiful and enlightened had fallen prey to its basest urges, and she hated herself for not being able to fix it.
You've saved them all so many times. You and your friends.
Now, not even they were here. She wished for a way to relive the past, a chance to change things, but they were the foolish pleas of a life so violently destroyed.
She wiped the stinging mist from her eyes with her dingy, dirty hat and dug a hole in the middle of the barn floor and placed the shattered remains in it. You will be remembered, she said to no one in particular. One day, just like the others. I promise.

Hours passed as they carried on. Endless hours that faded into nothingness. The lingering pain of her burns bit into her side, great splotches of her coat that had been flashed into searing pinpricks.
It's only temporary, she reassured herself. It's not as bad as it used to be. You're healing, slowly but surely.
Her brother caught her staring at her wounds and gave her a worried look but she waved it away and motioned to keep going. We can't stop, she told him. I'm fine.

Her young sister splayed across her stout brother's back and slept a sleep born of exhaustion. There she looked almost serene, an image of the way she used to be before the end. The dirty, pink bow that still adorned her hair had faded with long streaks of white and frayed ends, but she would never remove it.

Do you want me to hold on it for you? she used to ask.

No. It helps me remember them. I'll take care of it. I promise.

She was thankful for her sister being asleep. She wouldn't have to see more death. The scattered forms of pegasi lying in crumpled piles with their bright coats charred and muted and their hollow bones sticking out at grotesque angles like the discarded playthings of a petulant child. Always she forced herself to look at them, to be sure they weren't the one she'd cared about more than anything else in the world for a brief time.

She wished she would find the body so she could cry and scream and let everything out, so she wouldn't have to be stoic for her siblings. Let me know, she'd say to herself. Please. One way or the other. Let me know.

=====

The brilliant white streaks topped with their gleaming points of light faded into smudged lines in the sky like patterns in a frozen pond, striking her as abstractly beautiful and unnerving. She'd never seen such a thing and was compelled to stare at it with childlike wonder even as the rumbling gave way to the calming breeze and barely-there bite of an autumn chill.
Droves of pegasi had taken to the air, groups of threes and fours watching with the same fascination.

Imperceptible snippets of conversations carried on the wind, mixtures of excitement and awe. Another act of the Goddesses? Idly, she wondered if she would be called upon once again, if this display was the harbinger of yet another ancient evil that had awakened. She would have to find her friends. Let her family know.

No, she shook her head, the others would have let you know by now. Take care of your duties at home first.

The commotion soon died down and pegasi began to fly away, occasionally waving to her as they passed by overhead.

A flash. Brighter than anything she'd ever seen. She clutched at her eyes instinctively as the world was bleached a bright, terrible white that caused her to scream out before she could even react consciously. Another one, and another. She buried her face in her hat and clenched her teeth and yelled as she felt the very skin of her body burn like a hundred candles had been held to it. A horrible castrophany of voices filled her ears even as she panicked, incoherently pleading for it to stop. Loud thumps all around her, heavy and wet and crunching. A distant roar grew into the sound of a thousand trains descending upon her in a great wall.

The wind came and lifted her bodily from the grass and threw her into the trees. Sharp, horrible pain as something drove itself deep into her thigh. She yelled out in a desperate moan filled with unfathomable panic and begged for an end within the confines of her mind. The unnatural, blinding whiteness turned to grey, then black, and then...

...nothing.