Dead Trotting

Try as you might, you can’t change the past. Every mistake you make is an opportunity to build for tomorrow. That’s what most ponies will go over: Learn from your mistakes. Let your misfortunes be the staircase to a brighter future. But what if you broke that staircase? I’ve always wanted to reach back in time and tell myself to quit something I should have known was a bad idea from the start. It’s always that one screw that comes loose and takes everything above down with it. You can’t go back and tighten it. But wouldn’t it be nice if you could? Imagine the possibilities.

But as reality has it, you can’t. That’s why I always like to be alone. You can’t screw up someone else’s day if you’re by yourself. Ever since I’ve started living in Ponyville, even before that, everyday was an endurance test; a test I’ve often failed. You can ask my teachers...

“Amber! You need to sit still!”

“Look at me when I’m teaching!”

“This is what?  The fifth assignment you didn’t turn in?”

Or my peers...

“Can’t you do anything without help?!”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“You’re late again. What a surprise.”

I hated school. I hated being around other ponies. I hated being outside the comfort of my sanctuary, though most of you would call it a house. Being in the open; being vulnerable as the cold air of the outside world dances on my skin. When I was home, I was shielded. Shielded by the walls of the one thing I’ve managed to keep. What happened to the rest, I’d much rather dump it somewhere in a hole before filling it with quick-dry cement.

That was me. 15 years old. Time sure flies when you don’t look at the clock. A reservoir of smaller, perhaps happier memories lay in the depths of my conscience. It would take me awhile to fish them out though, seeing as I was in a pouty mood. Every brain has its limits. It’s just that mine come earlier. I can remember everything else though. At least before that day.

CHAPTER 0: Before the Pain

The moon filtered through my bedroom window. A steady column of light shot through the darkness and connected to the floor, revealing patches of unwashed clothing and scattered, overdue paper. Winter was depressing. When it’s 5:00, it would already be pitch black outside. It feels as if school ate up too much time. Now it’s 12:00, and I can’t even shut my eyes. More than anything, I just wanted to drift off in the world of deep slumber, but anxiety made sure I was denied access.

There was a test coming. I think it was over... gah! I can’t even remember. Not that it matters. I’m barely passing my classes, and I doubt one test is going to change that. Why can’t I be intelligent? I wish there was some helmet that I could glue and hardwire to my brain so that it’s easier to study. Like that one girl. What was her name? Twilight? Why can’t I be like her? At least she and me share one thing in common. We’re both socially awkward. Though Twilight’s only a small awkward. I’m a magnificent steaming pile of awkward. For whatever reason, I find it very hard to talk to ponies I don’t know very VERY well. Every time I would, I talk very quietly, and I keep my vocabulary very narrow. It’s as if I’m too afraid to say something stupid, which is rational, because every time I do open my mouth, I do say something stupid.

Then everypony would laugh. God. Not the laughing. One pony joins in. Then another filly nudges her friend and informs her about my stupid comment. Now they start laughing. One colt goes over to see what’s going on. They inform him. He starts laughing. Soon, everypony is trying to restrain from laughing. Oh God, the laughing. I shrink in my desk and hang my head as my face turns red. It get’s worse when I’m trying to swallow my tears, clench my back teeth, and pretend I don’t care. Now everypony has a new thing to laugh at. I thrust my pillow into my face to repress the memory.

I found out when I was 7 that I've been diagnosed with something called “aspergers syndrome.” What that was is beyond me, but I guess that’s why I can only talk to ponies just as awkward as me. Maybe not in that regard, but just strange in general. Most of my friends (if you can call them that) were never that social either. After school, we would lock our rooms, flip on our computers, and regroup over chat, usually over some computer game. I wasn’t much of a gamer myself, but they pulled me into it so much that I eventually started giving myself achievements for every minor task I would accomplish. Some of em’ would even be written down.

Finally. My body was losing its tense feeling. My breathing was getting slower and deeper. I was actually going to sleep! Now all I have to do...

Is shut my eyes...

SLAM!

Just when I was about to... Forget it. I could see it coming from a mile away.

“Amber! Come on baby, get up!” My mom busted through the door, still wearing pajamas. I could even see a coffee stain on her robe.

“Mom, what is it? It’s nowhere near morning...” I rubbed my eyes to numb the pain of the sudden rush of light.

“Something’s come up! Come on honey! Your father’s waiting outside!”

“What are you talking about? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

She started digging through my closet. Articles of clothing that I never wore slowly sank in the air before settling with the unwashed. “Get a saddle pack Amber! Take anything you can carry!” One thing’s for sure. She was panicking, but why. For some reason, I felt too afraid to ask. I slung my saddle pack over my shoulder and filled it to the buckle with a library of snacks and energy ciders. I also took the liberty of taking a pillow cause I was planning to go back to sleep quite soon. “That’s it?”

“Mom, I have nothing else.”

She placed her hoof on the back of my neck, and guided me out of my room, and towards the outside. I could barely keep up with her speed being I was so tired. I stumbled a few times before reaching the front door. It was then that I started hearing sirens. “Mom? Where’s dad?”

“I told you! He’s outside” My mom kicked the door open and let it slam against the door bell. The cheery tune echoed throughout the neighborhood before settling down. Well, she wasn’t lying. There was my dad, but why did he have a... Shotgun. “Honey! I’ve got her!”

“Well it’s about time! Come on! They’ll be here any second!”

Now I’ve finally built the courage to ask. “Who’ll be here?”

“Buses and carriages to pick us up.”

“Why? Are we going somewhere?” My dad stayed silent.

HONK! HONK! HONK!

A steel, rusty bus with illegible, scratched off advertisements pasted on each side soon stopped by our neighbor's house. I could tell it was from Fillydelphia through the design of the front attempting to mimic what I thought looked like a cruise missile. The one sending them must have run out of more aesthetically presentable versions, so they had to cash in for this ugly thing. My parents grabbed each of my arms to try and hurry me in. I stumbled a bit while trying to scale the wet, muddy stairs. Inside the wreck had not fared much better from its outside. The dark blue paint peeled off the walls uncovering even darker brown rust. The indented windows have been dominated by hoofprints left from the previous foals who have traveled with this vessel. The wet, cold seats were mummified in duct tape to prevent its wounds from getting worse, though like the paint, that was peeling off as well. But the worst part was the smell. A damp, rugged, burnt stench packed the air.That’s what you get from renting a Fillydelphia bus.

I was finally able to beat through the smell, along with the other off putting features this bus had to offer, and make my way to the back seat; the one with its window open. My mom came next, occasionally tripping over discarded luggage. My dad was about to follow till’ the driver intervened. “Sir, you can’t bring that on here.” He was referring to my dad’s remington.

“I have a family to protect! Let me in!”

“I don’t make the rules sir. If you want to complain, talk to the colts at the fort.”

The word ‘fort’ really grabbed my attention as I made my seat in the back of the bus. “Fort? Like in a war? Are the griffins invading”

The driver interjected. “You wish.” I refused to learn more.

My dad eventually caved in and tossed his gun onto our neighbors yard. He shuffled his way through the tight aisle till he reached me and my mom in the back seat. “Sorry I took so long.” He put his foreleg around both of us.

The rumble of the bus kept me from drifting. The relentless chatter of confused ponies that had squeezed inside after our stop didn’t help much either. It was impossible to just sit still. My arms and legs tensed with raw energy I welcomed in my body from one of my energy ciders. The need to stretch proved rather tiresome when I kicked the mare in front of us just enough times to aggravate her into throwing her drink at our seat. I decided to preoccupy myself by sticking my head out the window while using my moms lap for stability. The wind helped ease my stress, and the smell of fresh air was revitalizing after being stuck inside a seedy bus full of strange dirty sweaty ponies I didn't even know for a whole hour. In the distance, the city of Las Pegasus shined proudly while illuminating Luna’s night. Each bright spot manifested itself with a different color like fireworks. Every individual structure stood bearing its own personality. But the most amazing part was the tower that lay settled in the very middle, complete with glowing wings attached to the tip. The lights emitting from the cities so far away always amazed me, yet also calmed me down. The thought of one day being there; living there. It was like a dream vacation. Coupled with the radio the driver flipped on, the sight only brought tears to my eyes.

“You’re always found alone

When you need somepony the most,

You can never have a friend

When you come to need it then.

With each hoof being held

You looked me in the eyes,

Telling me it will be alright

Just one of many lies.”

Such a depressing tune. Why do these kinds of songs always play on some long road trip while cruising through the middle of nowhere. It’s as if the station is messing with us. I wished to keep it out of my head, but it was the only thing I found interesting enough to listen to. So instead of blocking it out, I embraced it; playing out a little scenario where the lyrics are acted out in my imagination.

The soothing sight was soon broken with a flash. Not one, but a good seven or eight splashes of light peppering throughout the distant city. The accompanying boom drummed against my chest and massaged my eardrums with vibration. All that came after was a steady orange glow, which I found out rather quickly was fire. “Dad? What’s... What’s going on?”

“Nothing sweetie. Just taking some precautions is all.”

“I meant over there.” I gestured my hoof towards Las Pegasus. My dad rubbed his eyes to prove to himself that this was not a hallucination driven by lack of sleep.

“It’s already happening...”

That only scared me more. “What is?”

My dad clammed up. Somehow, he thought it was for the best to not let me know. I nudged him a bit to try to ease him into answering. It looked like it was-

“WATCH THE DAMN ROAD!!!!”

The driver snapped his head forward to see a passing colt limping in front of the bus as he was illuminated by the headlights. The 24-ton taxi made a sharp turn towards the right before veering out of control. It slid sideways across the road as sparks squeezed out from under it. The stress it was put under finally became too much to bear for the skiing rust bucket, and lost its footing before rolling over. Blackness followed soon after.

Pain. Pain is what I remember. I fought with every last breath to open my eyes. Dried blood crusted around my face as dirt became logged in the wounds. My vision was blurry. Everything was glowing. Was it already morning? I replayed the words the driver said in my head: “You wish.” Let’s see what I can remember.

We’re on a bus, and somepony was on the road... We crashed. Alright, so far so good. Now for where I was. In the back seat. Amber was in... Wait... Who’s Amber? Oh yah! I am! Duh. I’m Amber... GAH! What comes after that? Forget it. It’s not the key issue. I’m sure I’ll recover later.

Eventually, my eyes adjusted to the new-found light and I could rationally make out the scenery once again. The front of the bus cracked and spurted as it recoiled in flames. Windows one by one shattered under the immense pressure of the heat. Everypony and their dog was giving it their all to pull others out from the metallic death trap. One colt who was pulled out had a piece of shrapnel stuck in his shoulder, yet he put the pain aside to rescue his friend. Talk about somepony who doesn’t take no for an answer.

I decided it was time for me to leave the rubble when a sharp crippling pain shot up my left side. I suppressed a scream by biting my foreleg. When I looked behind me, I realized I was pinned. A part of the bus had crunched up on the lower half of my body, and a large piece of glass was wedged into my leg. I quivered at the sight. It was when I noticed what was wrong that my face contorted and the pain got worse. I struggled greatly to keep myself from passing out. I was losing blood at an alarming rate, and I needed to get this fixed really quickly before A: I bleed to death, or B: The bus explodes and engulfs me in flames. Either one of those would not be a walk in the park so I called out for help before loudly choking on dirt.

“Amber?! Amber?! Where are you?! Please just call out if you can hear me!” I knew that voice. It was my dad’s. I waved my arms wildly all while trying to restrain my movement as to avoid tearing my leg open.

“Dad! I’m over here! Dad! Help me!” The smoke and dust filling the air clouded my vision and engorged my lungs with useless attempts at getting air. Thankfully, the smoke and dust was sifted away as I saw my dad’s hooves swipe the turmoil.

“Amber! Sweetie, thank God you’re alright!”

“I wouldn’t say that yet.” I could only keep one eye open cause the other was squeezing in discomfort. “There’s something stuck in my leg.” I motioned him towards my injury. He put a hoof over his mouth in shock.

“Amber! I..” My dad’s head shifted attention as the front of the bus bursted in red-hot rage. The rocking drove the shard deeper in my leg making me choke in agony. I’m pretty sure I almost broke my teeth from clenching them too hard.

“Have you found her yet?!” Now I knew my mom was okay. At least something was going right. “Amber! Oh my gosh! What happened?!” I noticed how she had some shards of her own stuck in her arm.

“Honey! Get help! Get it now before the fire spreads!” She seem to not have wanted to leave, but knew that staying would be unlikely to help. My dad secured his hooves under a popped out window in an effort to give the bus a good lift. He probably knew it wouldn’t work. This thing weighs more than all of my gym teachers. He probably did it so that if I lost my leg that he would be secure in the thought that he at least tried. From there, it was the same pattern. Lift for three seconds, then pant. Rinse and repeat.

Eventually, my mom arrived with two other colts following behind. One was a thin yellow colt with a broad jaw, bushy orange mane, and... an apron? The other one appeared to be a doctor. I haven’t seen either of them on the bus, so I was dumbfounded as to their origins. I twisted my head sideways to look past the fireball. Two, much nicer looking buses had stopped behind the wreckage to help out. Twenty or so ponies poured out from the doors to assist the injured and trapped while some stayed behind to keep on lookout. But on lookout for what?

The doctor brandished a cluster of unidentifiable tools in his hooves. Some have been drenched in blood, likely due to tending the injured. “Alright. I need something to break the glass, but not without moving it too much. Mr. Cake, I need you to find some more tools. She’s not the only one in this predicament.” The now named Mr. Cake moved to recruit some volunteers. “Stay back! I need to separate the glass from the rest of the wreckage. When that is done, make sure the glass stays where it is!”

My dad objected. “What?! Why?!”

“We don’t know if the shard has reached a major artery. If it has, and we pull it, she’ll bleed out.” The thought of me spurting out so much blood that I would turn blue and keel over made me recoil in disgust and fear. Eventually, Mr. Cake came back with probably the biggest bag of freaky tools I have ever seen. The doctor wiped out what appeared to be a drill. Okay, I guess he’s a dentist. The drill was positioned at the base of the shard. Slowly, he drilled small holes into the glass in a steady line. It appears as though he’s trying to score the glass just enough to remove it safely. He squeezed in his third drilling before a pony on lookout started to freak.

“Get away from him! He’s been bitten! Get away! He’s bloody bitten!”

“Shut up! A’m fine! It’s okay! This feller’s paranoid!”

“Yah right! Quit trying to save yourself and face bloody facts!”

The driver of our bus stepped out to survey the conflict. “Alright. What’s going on here?! You’re freaking everypony out!”

“This bloody tourist has a bloody bite wound on his bloody foreleg!”

The second colt interjected. “Shut up an’ stop saying bloody! A’m fine!”

I’ve never heard a heavier southern accent. It’s almost fake. “Just let me look at it sir. I can assure you everything is going to be fine. We just need to-” The driver was cut off as the country colt aggressively threw his hoof away.

“What! You sidin’ with the canterlot colt now?! Come on! He’s just some stuck up little shit who thinks he knows everything!”

The little exchange continued to play it’s part as the doctor (dentist) made the last few holes in the glass. “Alright. The glass should be loose enough so that it will break without incident. Mr. Cake, get me the hammer.” But before the surprisingly simple process could be completed...

“GET THIS PIECE-A-SHIT OFFA ME!”

Everypony's attention was met by the southerner with the canterlot colt’s teeth tearing through his neck. The hostile pony’s eyes brandished a blank expression accompanied by dark sunken circles. Blood clotted around his face as it leaked from his maw. The fur started falling off in patches revealing sandy cracked skin. The country colt clawed at his back desperately before his attacker’s teeth got a firm grip on his collar. A piece of raw skin and muscle left his shoulder before the road stained a rashy red from the aftermath. The southerner unsurprisingly played his thoughts on this through a shriek of agony poking through a heavy drawl. His hoof drowned in blood as it tried to suppress the new wound. “Dad! What’s happening?! Why did he-” After quickly finishing his chunk of meat, the assailant made his way towards the driver. “What was his problem? Why is he just bite that guy?! DAD! WHY IS HE-”

“I’m sorry Amber! You weren’t suppose to find out! Not like this!”

“Somepony shoot that colt! He’s one of them! Hypocritical piece of shit!” Much of the crowd paraded the same response. I didn’t want to see anymore. The nature of the attack alone has achieved a brand new level of disturbing. But it’s the same disturbance that keeps pulling me back. The colt violently twitched and gurgled as he used his now impaired mobile skills to move. As he got closer, his mouth continued to stretch open, visibly presenting a spring of bubbling chunks that has clogged his throat.

BANG!

A bullet sailed through the air, and into the threat. His head jerked before the entire back of it had been shredded into a mix of fluid and brain. He fell to the road painting the already gory mural. The driver reluctantly put a revolver back in a holster.

My dad couldn’t help but comment. “You piece of shit! I thought you said we couldn't bring guns!”

“Sir! I am an official! It's my job to protect these ponies! Not yours!”

I looked back at the canterlot colt who lay on the road. “I.. I- What?!. He’s dead! I’ve only been awake for an hour and 45 minutes and... Oh my gosh. What’s happening?!”

SNAP

The doctor finally broke me out of my glass shackle. My parents sprinted over to pull me away from the bus before it blew out...

Alright. It didn’t blow out. We must be early.

“Oh my little filly! Thank God! Oh Thank God!” My dad embraced me in his arms with my mom following shortly behind. WIth all the movement, the shard was causing more pain, though I pushed that aside. I returned the hug, but not before all of us thanked the stallion who made it possible.

He quickly returned the thanks before bringing us back to the subject. “The wound needs to be addressed immediately! Amber! That’s your name I presume.” I nervously confirmed. “Alright. I need to borrow your father for a bit. There’s more ponies in need of help. That is if it’s okay with your mother.”

My mother nodded slowly in disappointment and understanding. “Do what you must.” The doctor did just that, and pulled my dad by the foreleg towards another trapped mare.

My mom spent the next 20 minutes wrapping my leg in bandages. It curled around the glass in attempt to leave it suspended in my flesh, because somehow that’s a good thing. It looked wretched. The stained glass and already dark red tape almost made me want to tear it all off and yank the glass out. But the horrid fantasy of pints shooting out of me, even though I would have to have much higher blood pressure for it to do such a thing, made me even more uncomfortable than that. She stayed silent. I guess she ran out of ideas of what to comment on being it all would dance around the same concept: ‘The particular predicament we have found ourselves in is rather shitty.’

I glanced over at the canterlot colt. Barely. The sight of death would probably draw a less than favorable reaction from me. He lay there. Bloody, brained, and blasted. What once amounted into a simple argument turned into a grizzly gasp inducing sight I would want to wash away with acid before giving myself a lobotomy. How could this go so wrong so fast? Dad certainly won’t tell me. Maybe mom will. “Mom?”

She leaned against my head. “Yes Amber?”

“Why are we going? What are we trying so hard to avoid? Is it the same thing that happened over there?” I loosely gestured towards the canterlot colt's dead body.

Her front teeth gritted trying to make sure the word choice would be just perfect. “Amber... Do you watch the news?”

“No. Why?”

She trailed off in thought before finally answering the question I’ve been asking all night“...There’s an illness.”

Great. More body related horror. “Illness?”

“A disease that spread through Canterlot. That’s where it came from.”

“What is it?”

“I... I’m not sure. All I know is that it spreads through bites. Once that happens, a pony becomes... Well, they’re not themself.”

I dug into my memory bank to see if I have come across this information before. I do recall one of my friends showing us pictures of riots from his recent trip to Canterlot. These pictures had hundreds of ponies coloring and covering the streets from wall to wall. Fires and crashed carriages littered the scenery. The ponies themselves swimming through the decimation were caked in dirt and blood. I thought it was just some political jargon created by our news to get public attention. “Not themself? How? Like angry?”

“I... I’m not even sure what I can classify it as. They all want the same thing though, and that’s food. That’s why they bite.”

“Like... Like a zombie?”

She’s cringed at the suggestion. I think I’ve asked enough to know what we’re dealing with. An army of the sick, and their hostile. The concept couldn’t even grasp any levels of unimaginable. Here I am thinking these things would only be found in movies or games. Now they’re set in motion with one goal in mind: eat. But how? How have zombies become a reality? Everything was fine a week ago! How can a zombie being as slow as it is... Wait, it spreads through bites? That would mean the country colt-

BANG!

A thump echoed from behind me.

Me and my mom lay pressed against each other for a full nine minutes, each of us sharing the same worries. At least we still have each other. Loud and indistinguishable chatter diffused throughout the cold desert night. Which brings up the question of why we're even in the desert? Last time I checked, there wasn’t anything of large value. So many unanswered questions, and less than few answers. An overweight stallion started speaking through probably the loudest and most ear busting megaphone I’ve heard since... okay, it was my first megaphone. Sue me.

“Can I get everyone’s attention please? Can I get-” a golden-maned colt with a cowpony’s hat threw an apple at him.

“You’re crazy for bringin’ us out here! Me and my gang just flew from Appleloosa to get away from these things! Now we’re being hauled off back to pay em’ a visit?”

“Sir, Appleloosa is not our destination.”

“AH CAN SEE THE DAMN TOWN FROM HERE!” The golden maned colt gestured towards a should-have-been-obvious silhouette being complemented by a glow. “Se that shit? That’s fire!”

“Even if we are close to an infected zone, the fort is in possession of state of the art defenses and a considerably sized wall surrounding the entire city. No hostile is getting inside without us knowing it. Now refrain from your comments and let me finish.” The cowpony retreated to the back of the mini-audience. “Since that one out of three buses cease to function, the surviving passengers must be distributed evenly throughout the remaining two.” The two bus crowd groaned. “Each seat is able to fit at least three ponies. We need all the children to be seated, so that will be our first priority. I also need...”

I think I fell asleep before the guy could finish. I found myself back on an even more crowded bus full of ponies that had to be over four times my size. The one I was found next to was eating beans with his hooves. After some sauce spattered on me, I took another glance at my injury. It still hurt, so at least that means my leg still works. I looked around for my parents, though I could only see my father seated on the very back. Where was mom? “Dad?”

He snapped up from his daze surprised to see I have woken up. Unfortunately, he was too far for me to hear him over the sound of the busy bus, so he acknowledge his noticing me with a complimentary wave. I waved back, though not without a hint of worry.

The windshield flared a bright white, making it nearly impossible to see. A stern voice shot towards our direction.

“Attention! All buses must slow to 25 miles per hour or under before approaching the fort. All violators may not enter Fort Howard until the following has been accomplished.”

The light retreated back to its regular duties. Before shuffling and more or less arguing with the bean pony, I stood atop his head to peek out through the window once again. The bus finally came to a stop before my jaw fell to its knees.

A massive, dam like structure rose from the sands of the deathly desert. Beyond it, pillars that tore through the sky while breaking the dark of the night with a disco of searchlights. At the front, buses from what I presume are from all around Equestria parked side by side while guiding its passengers towards the biggest (and only) entrance. The entrance itself however was obscured by military post and building equipment. I guess when it’s finished, I’ll be equally enthralled.

The drop from the last stair to the floor had been more than I anticipated. I stumbled once again before dropping my saddlepack. And now we have all those ciders rolling under the bus. What a waste of bits. My dad followed me out, probably just as astonished as I was. “Amber, don’t go too fast! Let me catch up!” Like I could go any faster. I had 8 inches of glass stuck in my leg. Once I got this removed, I’d probably celebrate with fireworks and giant waffles.

There was one question which has yet been answered, and I’m not going to let more of those hang around much longer. “Dad? Where’s mom?”

He appeared to be checking us in with the colts who ran the fort. He angled his head to catch me in his peripheral vision. “There wasn’t enough room on our bus, so she was moved to the second. Don’t worry honey. She’ll be fine.” All right. Stress levels down. So far, things are looking up.

Now that I’ve stopped worrying, I could finally focus on this structure we’ve worked so hard to get to. It’s a shame that we can’t see behind that wall, though that mystery will be resolved shortly once we get inside. I hope it’s not too different from our own place, and even then, I hope we don’t stay for very long. Perhaps a week, maybe two. It’ll be like a little vacation, but with glass and zombies. Now to knock out another question. “Dad, one more thing.”

“Yes Amber?” He smiled to lighten the mood, but not without his eyes displaying a bit of sadness.

“When we crashed, the impact knocked my head a bit, and I forgot my last name.”

He handed the suited colt an ID. “Amnesia, eh?” I nodded. “Oh you silly filly. Your last name is-” The fort colt motioned my dad to step away from the crowd. “Sorry Amber. Got to check with this pony. Be right back, and don’t move too much. We still have that leg to deal with.” I nodded back, but not without a hint of disappointment.

So I spent the next half-an-hour sitting on a single rock on the side of the road. The entertainment I had here: A pile of small stones of which I individually threw a couple of times to see how long it would stay in the air before landing in the sand with a strangely satisfying thud. The only thing I could think about, however, was mom. I really hope she’s okay. What if dad only made that story up to make me feel better? What if he just outright lied and in truth had seen her get hurt? No. He wouldn’t do that. He’s a stallion of faith. He wouldn’t pull something like that. Not with his own daughter.

For reasons not so unknown, the reassurance irritated me even more. Though what would you expect when it’s coming from yourself. Oh come on Amber. What’s there to worry about? Mom is a strong mare. She can take care of herself. I mean, she has me as her child, and I’m more than enough of a mess that any walking sick colt would be.

At least I’ve still managed to keep my pillow. And the fact that I’ve even found my saddlepack after that crash is something I should be grateful for. Sometimes, when I had nothing to do, I’d hug my pillow, go to sleep, and pretend I’m somewhere else. It’s always that one island away from anypony else save the ponies who can actually deal with me. The sun would warm the air and ease the tension I had in my muscles. I would then look back at the city in the distance, and appreciate how far I’ve come in accomplishing my own personal paradise. But then reality starts kicking in. And as of course, it’s never a good thing. But then again, who uses the word reality in good context?

My dad emerged from the crowd of ponies now congesting the road. A smile crossed my face before I noticed how his own smile was upside down. He walked over to the rock I was on and sat next to me on the dirt floor, looking very heavy-hearted. “Amber...” I turned my head towards him to acknowledge his presence. “Your mother is being taken to a different fort.” See? Reality is never good!

“Wha-wai-WHAT?! What do you mean different fort?! What happened! I thought she’d stay with us!” I stood on top of my stone seat to emphasize my disapproval, attempting to demonstrate some authority over the situation.

“That’s what I thought too, but this fort had recently ran out of room. There’s no reservation for her.” He put his head in his folded forearms to hide his anguish. It wasn’t working well.

“Ran out of room? As in it’s just us?! Dad! We won’t have mom?!”

My dad stood up to get a good look at our fort. “Amber, I promise you that I will get this sorted out. We’ll see her again in no time. We just need to push a little harder.” That’s my dad. Never gives up. This can both work in our favor, or in our failure. Though I was pretty well equipped to deal with that. What I wasn’t planning on dealing with, however, was the screaming unicorn mare on the intercom.

“Attention citizens and Fort Howard staff! The infected in the Appleloosan area are on the move towards this direction! We need an immediate lockdown of the entire complex in ten minutes! I repeat! We need an immediate lockdown of this area in ten minutes!”

The blonde colt from before loudly proclaimed how accurate his assumption was before getting his group and making a run for the entrance.

Panic erupted in the span of a split second. Screams scarred the very air while attacking the ears of the beholder. Standard procedure became irrelevant as the remaining outsiders swarmed the entrance to reach safety, leaving the staff entirely powerless to calm the outburst All I could do was watch from my crude pedestal in a completely blank state of mind. It’s as if I need time to process what’s happening. I got a reboot from my dad’s hoof scooping me off the rock ready to swivel through the messy crowd. “Dad! Wait! What about mom!” It was hard to strain my voice so I could be heard over the crowd.

“We’ll find her later Amber! We need keep you safe!” He bucked through the tumbling turmoil all while speaking to me reassuring that he hadn’t forgotten his mission. I could barely hear my dad talk, much less see. The only thing connecting me to him were his hooves which have bashed against many other hooves trying to accommodate to the same situation. Each pony we passed unto itself was an achievement. We’re probably more in danger of being trampled than being eaten.

But all was not well in reality as a sprinting colt climbing on top the mass of pony fell and crashed right into my side. I snapped a bit before regaining my senses. But that feeling started fading for some reason. Why... Why do I feel so light-headed. Why does my leg feel all sticky and wet- oh god...

The shard which has been stuck in my leg for some time had come loose from the impact. Now there was nothing keeping the blood from gushing out of the deep wound that had been torn open from the collision with the panicking colt. My blood slapped against the other ponies running beside me, painting the scene of what should have been done by a zombie. My blood loss was now starting to hurt.

Now it was my turn to panic. My heart rate and breathing quickened, aiding my fluids escape from my limb. My vision began to blur, occasionally lapsing back into rational quality. My dad hoisted me up on his back, not knowing what went wrong until the blood spread across his face. “Amber!? WHAT HAPPENED?!” I couldn’t speak louder than the mob as I felt the need to conserve as much oxygen as I could. Dad quickly grasped the severity of the situation and tackled through the oncoming chaos now fueled by fear and adrenalin. Several ponies tried to halt his progress to save their spot, but to no avail. He went from earth pony to raging bull in a matter of seconds. I braced his neck tightly trying to keep myself from tumbling to the ground and being trampled. My arms however started to get looser. Soon, they became numb as to where it was hard to tell if I still had control over them or not.

The ground I had my head somewhat hung over cleared of hooves and dust as we approached the front of the fort. The light lit the pavement while the shadows of the staff decorated the road. I could only distinguish a couple of words, though I knew what they would be over.

“...is she bit...”

“no...help...get a doctor...”

“...please...”

I felt my body jerk up as I fell into the grasp of who appeared to be an emergency worker before I felt a plush sensation against my back. I didn’t need to look to know I was on a stretcher. It started to rumble as it wheeled by on the still bumpy road. My eyes slowly shut before I saw my dad take off in the opposite direction.

The sudden intrusion of light stung my eyes. I moved my hoof in front of my eyes to shield myself from its unwelcome majesty. Small shots tugged on my arm keeping it from being of anymore use. The smell of alchohol and filtered air brought me too as my eyes finally adjusted to the new environment. A thin blanket covered the lower half of my body. Various fluids have been hardwired to my sides while being hung on a drip stand. Quite a couple of them actually. I unmasked my body to judge the damage to my leg. It had been wrapped in medical tape, concealing the wound from the outside. I could feel the stitches while moving it.

In front of my bed, a nurse mare stood washing her hands next to a batch of small pancakes and orange juice. She turned around to attend to her regular duties before noticing my coming to. “Oh! You’re awake!” She trotted on over to my side before examining me closely. “You’re very lucky to be all right. You know that, right?” I got up to break out of my plastic baggie prison before I quickly fell to the floor. “Hang on a minute!” She hoisted me up back onto the bed. “You’re not exactly in top physical condition to walk. You need to rest, and eat something for crying out loud.” She handed me the breakfast tray which I placed to the side.

My eyes were still in a state of discomfort, so it fared to be rather difficult to look at her directly. “Where... Where are we?”

“You’re inside our clinic. Your dad busted through that crowd to take you here. You should be very grateful for a father like that. Welcome to Fort Howard!”

The only thing I heard was ‘dad.’ So naturally, I reacted to the word accordingly. “Where’s... Where’s my dad? Is he outside?”

The nurse placed her hood on my forehead before I brushed it off. “Your dad went to go get your mother. He told me to tell you as soon as you woke up that he’d be back in no time.”

I didn’t know whether to feel stressed or completely crushed. On one hoof, he kept his promise and went to look for mom. On the other hoof, he stuffed me here and took off without a word. “My dad... Is he okay?”

With a daughter like you, I wouldn't be surprised if he came back in ten seconds flat! Don’t worry hun. He’ll be here with your mother before you know it. We even have the fort officials especially stage up for their inevitable arrival. They’ll be in without a hassle. It’ll be alright.”

That tune started playing in my head again...

With each hoof being held

You looked me in the eyes,

Telling me it will be alright

Just one of many lies.

...

And that’s what it was... A lie. I hadn’t seen my parents in over two years. That's where my story begins; the end.

DEAD TROTTING

A post-pandemic fanfic by Imaginathan

Achievement Unlocked!

Exposition Fairy:

Let Amber sulk a bit before the story begins.

All Aboard!:

Get on the bus.

Zombie Crossing:

Survive the crash.

Welcome to Fort Howard:

Reach the fort.