Outskirts

Chapter Four

Pestilence

I was trapped in Smuggler’s hell. And I was alone…

<<-------------------------------------------------->>

Alarms; I was really beginning to hate alarms.

I couldn’t see any flashing lights, but that was most likely because the entire under level of Smuggler’s Cove was permanently tinted under a reddish hue. But the blaring sound of the siren made it clear that everypony in the underground city knew I was here. And it was only a matter of time before they found me.

Prying open the elevator gate had been far more difficult than it should have. The rusty hinges provided a surprising amount of resistance to my yanking.

The elevator’s control panel didn’t offer many options: one floor above and one below. I knew I couldn’t go back up to the settlement. It didn’t take an egghead to know they were probably prepared for that.

I pushed the down button and the elevator began to descend, leaving behind the stifling warmth of hell.

I had no idea what to do next. I had been separated from Warrick and Vanity, and without the former I had no way of knowing where I was going in this place. Of course I had to find a way out of Smuggler’s Cove, but even if I could manage to get back to where we had entered, I’d still be stuck. Whatever magic had been used to warp us from the desert outside into the settlement was foreign to me. I was alone, and I was trapped, and it was all my fault. Warrick told me. He told not to do anything, not to say anything. But I couldn’t just be still, and now all three of us where in danger.

I had to do something. I left Raincap under the auspice that I was going to go off and become some big hero. And what kind of hero can’t even make a daring escape from hostile territory? That’s practically entry level. But if I was going to try anything I’d have to at least be somewhat prepared.

I pulled open my backpack and emptied its contents on the elevator floor. First things first, I needed to do something about my leg. Vanity had wasted most of the cotton balls and gauze in her attempt to treat my bite wound, and a fair portion of the lower level chewable pain killer was also missing. Fortunately I still had tweezers and disinfecting rub. Unfortunately I had to pull a bullet out of my thigh.

I took the remaining gauze from my kit and stuffed it into my mouth. I remembered from history class that in the old days, ponies would bite down on things during surgery, as there was no painkiller. I grasped the rubbing alcohol in my hooves and poured a few drops on the bullet wound. A muffled shriek found its way through the gauze. And I used to think it hurt to have this stuff dabbed on scraps and scratches. I took a short breather then picked up the tweezers, pouring the alcohol on them for sterilization.

“Okay, I can do this. Just don’t think about it.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The tweezers were now dangerously close to the bloody wound. My hooves were shaking and a bead of sweat ran down my forehead. I bit down on the gauze as hard as I could and stuck the tweezers into my leg.

As a little filly I was well known around Raincap as something of a daredevil. When you’re a pegasus that can’t fly you try to find other ways to compensate. So I tried all manner of sports, from scooters to skateboards, volley ball with Vanity, I even tried out ice skating once. Being a pony who wasn’t exactly born with a natural aptitude for athletics, I suffered more than my fair share of scraps and bruises. The school nurse was a regular acquaintance of mine, as was Dr. Clip n’ Snip (Raincap’s only physician). But between every injury I ever sustained due to sports, or exploring my home town, having a chunk bitten out of my ankle, and even being shot, nothing had ever been as horrible as those tweezers in my leg.

I was just laying there, a line of spittle running out of the corner of my fabric filled mouth intercepting the tears streaming from my eyes. I wasn’t moving, or making any noise that I can recall, just lying there, with little metal pincers sticking into my flesh. It was then that I realized how long the elevator had been descending. Unless the ponies of Smuggler’s Cove had built a vacation spot somewhere near the center of the earth, I should have been where I was going by now. That is, if the elevator had been moving. In my pained paralysis I hadn’t noticed that the cart had stopped squeaking in steady decline. I forced myself to sit up. The tweezers were halfway rammed into my leg, the prongs on either side of the bullet.

Okay, time for round two.

I bit down on the wad again, and closed my eyes. There was a dull pain in my thigh as I placed my hooves on the graspers. In one quick motion I pinched them together and pulled up. There were two light clangs as the tweezers and bullet hit the elevator floor. I opened my eyes to see blood that must have been stopped up by the fragment began to gurgle out of the wound. I spit out the gauze ball and pressed it against the bullet hole (which actually helped alleviate some of the pain). Then I just held there for a moment, pressing down. After a while the bleeding stopped and I dropped back onto the floor, letting out a relieved sigh.

“Not so bad.”

<<-------------------------------------------------->>

Six apples, one jar of sugar cubes, a sand covered blanket, four books, an assortment of mine and Vanity’s dresses, and a now nearly empty first aid kit; somehow it didn’t seem like I was as prepared as I would have wanted to be for something like finding my way out of a completely foreign and hostile underground sanctuary. But my thoughts were focused on something a might more frivolous. I had only packed three books when I left my home a night ago.

Pinkie Pie’s Magic Song Book

The cover of the book was adorned with the image of a pink mare with a pink mane and tail, and balloons for a cutie mark. She was wearing an oddly festive dress that had lollipops stitched into it and a matching hat. Cartoonish musical notes trailed out of her open mouth as if to indicate that the words she sang were as fun and joyful as such a happy looking pony must be.

Feeling curious, I flipped open the book to somewhere in the middle.

“…Don’t be too hasty. Cupcakes! Cupcakes! Cupcakes! Cupca-“

I jumped and slammed the book closed.

“Jeez,” I complained, placing a hoof over my pounding chest.

I poked at the bright pink hardcover with my hoof. Nothing happened. Slowly, I picked the book up and opened the front cover. The table of contents was just a list of song titles, and a page number for each. As I read down the list one caught my attention: Oink Oink Oink. I flipped to the page that corresponded with the song and the book began to sing.

“First you jiggle your tail, Oink Oink Oink; then you wriggle your snout, Oink Oink Oink; then you-“

I closed the book again.

“Oh dear Celestia,” I let slip, and then covered my mouth to stifle a giggle.

I knew the song title had sounded familiar, and now I knew why. This book must have belonged to Warrick. It made sense, he had no other way of carrying it, but I didn’t remember seeing him with it. Either way, I told myself that I’d have to annoy him with questions about it…if I ever saw him or Vanity again.

I stuffed everything back into my book bag, except for the three syringes loaded with instant sleep pain killer, which I kept in a makeshift holster I made by tying a piece of gauze around my left foreleg.

The elevator had arrived at its stop what felt like a half hour ago. But between my impromptu surgery and taking careful note of my less than stellar inventory, I hadn’t even had time to think about how dangerous it could be to stay stationary for so long. But I could walk now, and I needed to start looking for a way out.

I rose to my hooves and gently stretched my right hind leg. There was only a numb pain now, thanks to a strong helping of fruit flavored chewable pain relievers. I was actually quite proud of my work. Sure, all I had done was stuff cotton balls in the bullet-hole and wrap up my leg in spit soaked medical fabric, but it was still better than what Vanity had done for my ankle. Walking would still be a chore, but at least I wouldn’t have to worry about bleeding to death anymore.

I put on my bag and stepped out of the elevator.

The bottom level of Smuggler’s Cove was nothing like I had expected. Upon exiting the elevator cart I was treated to a view of a very clean looking hallway. It was in stark contrast to both the shabby settlement and hellish prison above. The silver walls of the corridor nearly glistened under the bright lights on the ceiling, and the floor looked spotless enough to eat off of. The majesty of the hallway would be common place had I witnessed it only two days ago. But this was the first area I’d seen that was neither covered in dirt, blood, or some other bodily fluid since leaving Raincap, so that had to count for something out here.

Crouching as low as I could, I began to make my way down the hall. It was too quiet. The floor above was raging in alarm and light, but I could see or hear none of it down here. I couldn’t decide whether this was good or bad for my cause, so I just kept sneaking down the hall. As I reached the corner I heard the sound of an automatic door sliding open, then hoof steps. I hugged up against the wall adjacent to the door, listening intently. The door slid back closed.

“‘Private conversation’ my left flank. That’s not what he was saying last night.” The voice belonged to a rather disgruntled mare. Her hoof steps grew louder as she approached the corner.

I panicked, and jumped out in front of her. It was stupid, but there wasn’t much else I could do other than try to run back to the elevator, which would be impossible with my leg in the shape it was in.

The mare’s eyes went wide. We just stood there staring at each other; neither of us fully sure of what had just happened, or what to do next.

She made the first move, striking me down with a buck to the face. Before I could react she delivered another kick straight to my chest. I gasped for air, but choked up as she proceeded to unleash a barrage of quick jabs to my face and body. After a few moments of savagery she stepped back, taking witness to her work.

I was cringing. The sour metallic flavor of blood flooded over my taste buds. I opened my mouth and the sticky red liquid puddled on the hard floor. I’d suffered worse beatings from the rabble of angry children at my school.

The mare, who was wearing a familiar white cloak, grinned arrogantly.

I hated to hurt her pride, but I wasn’t just going to lay there and die from a few love taps. I lifted myself up and wiped the blood from my muzzle.

The mare’s eyes fluttered in surprise.

“You’re pretty tough for a kid. I admire that,” she admitted. Then, she became rigid, almost frightening. “But now it’s time to go to sleep.”

She dipped down into leaping position.

My wings unfolded and spanned at my sides.

The mare loosened her posture. Of course I couldn’t fly, but she didn’t know that. What she saw a pegasus about to take to the air.

I pivoted forward and the mare’s head whipped up anticipating my ascension. As fast as I could I pulled out one of the syringes strapped to my leg and three leg sprinted straight at the bewildered mare. The needle stuck into her neck and I bit down on the plunger. Her eyes went wide and she struck me across the side of my head, knocking me back to the ground.

“You little bitch.” She bit down on the syringe and pulled it from her flesh. “Thought you could just…just pull one over…” She fell to the ground with a thud.

“Ha!” I squeaked victoriously, sounding all together too much like my sister.

I cautiously stepped over the unconscious mare and approached the door she had exited. I placed my ear against it, but could only hear faint mumbles. I needed a way in. Scouring the hallway, I could see nothing that seemed remotely like an alternate entrance.

Then I saw an air vent.

<<-------------------------------------------------->>

The room the mare had come from was Brazen Charm’s office.

The air tunnel led to a vent on the far wall of the room just above the ground. At least I won’t have to fall out of this one I thought. From behind the vent I could see almost all of the office. Brazen was standing in front of his desk looking up at a wall sized screen. He looked anxious. I could only make out the lower corner of the screen, but the white light emitting from it was bright enough to pour out over the entire room.

Suddenly the light dimmed, a dull greenish hue taking its place.

“My Lord,” said Brazen, taking a knee and bowing his head.

“Rise.” A chill ran down my spine. The voice coming from the screen was lifeless, a hollow echo resonating off the end of the word.

Brazen did as commanded. He was nearly shaking, like a child being forced to admit to their parent that it was they that had taken of the sugar cubes.

“Wise one, forgive me for disturbing you. Your time is precious to us all and I hate to intrude-“

“If you so value my time…” the speaker took in a long, broken breath “…you will make haste to your reasons for taking it,” the voice said, interrupting Brazen Charm.

“Of course Wise one.” He sighed. “As you know, yesterday marked our first action against the vile Tyrant Celestia on her own land,”

“Your stock was…” another breath “…adequate. Many have chosen to join our cause,” the voice declared. For some reason, that left an insipid flavor in my mouth.

“Praise to you my Lord. But that is not why I have requested your presence,” Brazen clarified, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

There was silence..

“After you left with the new hopefuls we where visited by Luna’s dog.”

“What?” The lifeless voice changed almost completely. What ever was on that screen, it had just become very interested.

“Yes. He came with two young mares and asked to see those that we captured from-“

“Where…” inhale “…do you have him?” the screen asked, almost sounding gleeful through the hollow echo.

Brazen went stiff. His eyes began darting around the room and his lips quivered, searching for words.

“Where is he?” the voice asked flatly.

Brazen stood shivering for a moment, his eyes clenched and his head hung in shame. He opened his eyes and postured himself, looking up at the screen. “He is still here, in Smuggler’s Cove. We are doing our utmost to locate him so he can pay for his actions.”

“He lives?”

“Yes Wise One, but-“

“But what? You said it yourself. Luna’s dog sets foot in blessed land, and yet lives. Is that not true?” The voice from the screen stated the obvious in the way you do when you’re incredibly angry, too much so to even yell.

“My Lord, he is protected under our treaty with the Princesses.”

There was silence again.

“Pestilence, please.” Brazen began to sweat, his lip quivered.

Pestilence; I had heard that name before. Pestilence was here. That’s right; Warrick had mentioned it, the purple unicorn, Twilight, too.

The light coming from the screen grew brighter, illuminating the whole room.

“I will find him. I…I understand now, and I will find him.” Brazen was sobbing now. He dropped to the ground and continued to beg.

As evil and hate able as he was, I couldn’t help but feel at least some pity. I knew how it felt to be a disappointment.

That incessant buzzing, the sound of a million little bugs zipping around, began to vibrate out from the speakers on the screen. Brazen suddenly started to convulse violently. His sobs gave way to screams muffled under a gurgling sound in his throat. I gasped and moved to push open the vent and run to him, but stopped, remembering why I was here in the first place.

The grey buck’s eyes bulged and become bloodshot. His wild spasms grew in ferocity, until it was like a scene out of some horrifically twisted movie.

Brazen Charm tore in half.

“No!” I don’t know why I screamed. I hated that pony. I hated what he did to other ponies, for what he might have done to my parents. But seeing somepony like this…it just wasn’t right.

Both pieces of Brazen Charm fell to the ground with a wet thud. As the light from the screen dimmed, a greenish fume emptied from Brazen’s rent innards. His flesh began to warp and melt until all that was left was a pile of rancid filth with several small plant-like growths sprouting from it. I felt like I might vomit as the stench reached me.

Everything was quiet for a moment. I could hear moist, heavy breathing coming from the screen. “What’s this? A little voyeur?”

Oh no.

Pestilence took in a deep breath that sounded like metal grinding wood. “Yes. I…can feel you.”

I inched slowly away from the vent.

“No doubt, you are the Raincap survivor.” another hideous inhalation “No?”

I froze.

“Yes, linger a moment. I wish to speak to you.”

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I was shaking with fear. I could barely contain the urge to turn and make a b-line back to the elevator. But if what I just witnessed was any indication, I wouldn’t get far. I stammered a moment. Maybe he was just bluffing; maybe he didn’t know I was here. I had screamed, he must have heard it.

“Do you fear me young one?” asked the lifeless echo, between its breaths.

Yes I did, far too much so to give my hiding spot away.

“Worry not; I will do you no harm.”

I stared at what used to be Brazen Charm. It was just pony enough that you could tell it had once been alive. And if it still had eyes, they’d be looking right at me.

The pony, or whatever it was, on the screen must of figured I would, and said, “Oh, him? I assure you, that is something I have been meaning to do for some time now.”

I was speechless, now less out of fear than out of disgust. These ponies were blindly worshipping someone that would remorselessly kill one of their most loyal servants. They must not have known who they were really following. I doubted any of them had ever even seen this monster before, except maybe Brazen Charm. And from what I just saw, it seemed like fear of death was more of a driving force to his zeal than a righteous desire to serve.

“Now listen to me my dear,” he began, pausing to breathe. “You have been made audience to happenings beyond your station, and have found yourself on the wrong side of this struggle. If you have any reasoning ability, you will banish yourself from this place and go back to the monotony of your negligible existence.”

Even if I wanted to turn back, there was nothing left for me to go back to. This monster had made sure of that.

I took in a deep breath of my own. “I have nowhere to go. You destroyed my home.”

The light glowing from the screen shifted around the room like a searchlight looking for an escaped prisoner.

“Your home was the first of many that will be purged along this conquest. Celestia will know that nopony that serves her is safe.”

“You’re wrong. The Princesses will find out what you’re doing. They’ll stop you.”

Pestilence scoffed. “You are so lost that you place trust in a child’s fancy. Perhaps in your story books that is the way things end, but not here.”

“No, they have Elements of Harmony. You can’t possibly-“

“What?” Pestilence interrupted in a mocking tone. “The magic of friendship and harmony is all I have to fear?” His voice grew dark, sinister. “I assure you my little pony; you will learn that no such thing exists.”

“That…that’s not true.” Just because I had never experienced it, that didn’t mean it wasn’t real. Did it?

“Is it not? Tell me, did you not come here with two others?”

“I...”

“And yet you now hide alone, bathed in your own terror. Your ‘friends’ abandoned you to die. Where’s the magic in that?”

Yet again I had nothing to say. He was wrong. They hadn’t left me. I told Vanity to go without me. And Warrick…well he was clearing the way. He couldn’t have turned back.

Oh Celestia, he was right. Warrick and Vanity were probably long gone by now. I had been left behind.

Ghastly mist and fleshy vines crept out of Brazen’s corpse and between the spaces in the vent, slowly inching toward me. I scurried back till I bumped into the cold metal of the air duct.

“There you are,” Pestilence breathed.

I whipped out a medical syringe and jammed it into one of the meaty tentacles. The appendage went limp and dropped down. Before I could pull out my last syringe another tentacle wrapped around my injured leg; I yelped as it tightened, squeezing blood from the healing bullet wound. The fleshy vine began to pull at my leg, slowly dragging me towards the vent. I was fretting, trying to pull against it, but it was so strong, and I was so tired. Those chewable pain killers chose the perfect time to rear their side effects.

Another tentacle tore the vent off the wall, then lurched into the duct and wrapped around my other hind leg. Fighting it was useless, they were too strong. So I stopped. I let myself go limp, and began to be pulled a bit faster. Why should I fight? There was no one left that cared about me. And if what Brazen had said was true, at least it would be quick.

The tentacles pulled me out of the vent and into Brazen’s office, hanging me in the air so that I was facing away from the screen. Pestilence’s breathing had calmed to a dull rumble. It almost felt like he was right there in the room, breathing down the back of my neck. It felt disgusting.

As I prepared for the inevitable pain, I almost thought I could hear Vanity’s voice, that silly little chirp of hers. I guess it wasn’t the worst thing to imagine before you die.

But then I heard Warrick’s voice, then both together.

The door to Brazen’s office erupted into the room followed by a plumb of flame. The tentacle monster Brazen dropped me to the ground. I took the initiative and scampered away from the blob and back into the vent.

Behind me I could hear Warrick and Vanity. I stopped crawling though the duct and listened.

“EEEEEEEK! Warrick, shoot it! Shoot it!” Vanity shrieked, no doubt catching sight of Brazen Charm’s animate remains.

“Gef baf Fanify!”

Two shots sounded off, both hitting the screen. The room went dark, and the corpse of Brazen Charm ceased movement, and died, again.

Warrick pulled the muzzle canon off his face and began looking around the room.

“You said she was in here,” he said, turning to Vanity.

“I heard her voice. I thought she would be here,” Vanity said sadly.

I crawled out of the air vent and plopped into the office with a light thud. Warrick’s razor sharp wings whipped out and he turned towards me. Vanity turned to me and smiled upon realizing who it was. She galloped across the room and grabbed me up in a hug.

“Thank Luna you’re okay,” she cried, weeping into my coat. “I was so scared.”

Warrick folded his wings back at his side and nodded at me.

“Okay, now that we have her, let’s go,” Warrick said, waving towards the door.

I pushed Vanity off me and got to my hooves. Warrick galloped out the damaged doorway. Vanity and I followed.

<<-------------------------------------------------->>

“You know, you could learn a thing or two about subtlety.”

It was a little shocking really. Warrick wasn’t even mad that I had attacked Brazen Charm. The way he mentioned it, it almost sounded like he was jealous it had been me to do it. He was only mad that I hadn’t done it in a more covert manner.

“Sorry.” I wasn’t really sorry. Real heroes don’t wait for the opportune moment to clop an evil pony. Then again, real heroes are usually the ones in the Taken Too Soon section of the obituary.

All around us the alarms were blaring. The pristine corridors of the lowest level of Smuggler’s Cove were awash with the reflected red lights and the piercing siren noises engulfed everything and everpony in its brutally obnoxious screams. I was really starting to hate alarms.

Vanity glided through air behind us as we cut through halls of what Warrick called the loading area. I was barely able to hold onto him, he flew so fast. My forelegs were wrapped around his neck as firmly as I could manage (I actually feared I might accidentally choke him to death) but being so close to those hellish wings made my whole body stand on pins and needles, the butterflies in my stomach begged me to let go of him and fall safely away from them. But there was the little issue of all the world’s guard ponies being hot on our tail.

“There!” Vanity called out from behind us.

Warrick banked around a corner and flew straight for the door at the end of the hall. When he didn’t slow down I nudged him with my hind leg. When he lowered his head and sped up even further, I buried my face in my forelegs and braced for impact.

The door smashed open and Warrick and I slid to a stop on the cold concrete floor of what looked like an oversized garage. Vanity landed next to us, looking from Warrick to the door then back again.

“It wasn’t locked last time,” she said.

Warrick stood up and stumbled around a little, his eyes going in different directions. “No time,” he said in his daze. He shook his head, snapping himself out of it, and began to gallop deeper in to garage.

I rose to my hooves and looked at Vanity.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“The place where we found the car,” she said, her eyes brightening as she mentioned it. “Come on, I’ll show you!” She gestured for me to follow and went after Warrick.

All around us, strange looking vehicles were parked in neat groups. Things that looked like the love child of a quadracycle and a helicopter, snow plows for winter wrap-up, even pegasus drawn chariots. But nothing that looked like a car.

Keeping up with Vanity and Warrick was torture. Not only was I forced to run on three legs, but the drowsiness I was feeling from the pain pills I took was threatening to sap me of any energy I had left.

Finally they slid to a stop in front of the most ridiculous looking vehicle I had ever seen. It was a large red cabin with an attached lip protruding out in front of the head lights. Two large wheels affixed to the front and two small ones at the back. The strangest things about the oddly proportioned vehicle were the podium and armchair built onto the jutting lip. It looked like something a travelling Politian could make use of.

“Uh, what is this thing?” I asked.

“Repurposed juice maker, and our way out of here,” Warrick said, climbing up onto the vehicle. He looked down at Vanity and I and shrugged his shoulders. “Are you coming?”

Vanity and I exchanged looks and climbed into the cabin of the repurposed juice maker. The engine rattled and sputtered before finally roaring in a symphony of deep revving sounds. I looked out the left side window and noticed how fast we were going. At this rate we’d hit the wall of the garage before we even had time to find a way out.

Vanity and I were bounced into the air by the sudden violent bump. I fell on one of the hard bench seats, hurting my wrapped leg. I looked back out the window. We were going up at a dangerously steep angle. I could see light reflecting off the floor, and from the angle of its rays I could tell it was coming from in front of the juice maker car. It was a warm light, welcoming. Not like the eerie glow from Brazen’s office screen or the artificial flickering of the lights in Smuggler’s Cove’s hallways.

It was the light of Celestia’s sun.

The sound of gunfire barked behind us. I barely ducked under the bench seat when the bullets began to tear through the cabin, sending splinters of wood dancing through the air. Vanity huddled up next to me as the car was riddled with hot metal pellets.

“Hold on!” Warrick shouted back to us.

“To what?!”

There was a loud crash, and the revving sounds stopped, then a split second of weightlessness. The juice maker landed and an explosion of sand kicked up around us. Vanity and I remained under the bench, waiting for whatever was to come next. Rays of soothing sunlight poured into the cabin from the dirty windows and the bullet holes in the walls, illuminating the dusty old wagon in a diluted glow. I heard the sound of somepony’s hoofsteps from above, then the sound of sand shifting. The door opened and Warrick flapped up into the cabin.

“Vanity? Wink?”

I crawled out from under the seat, waving a hoof over my head. Warrick sighed, presumably in relief, and stepped out of the wagon. I followed, jumping into the golden sand. A burst of dull pain shot up my right hind leg. I didn’t care, I was just glad to be out of Smuggler’s Cove. Vanity stepped up beside me, and we just stood there a minute, enjoying the warmth that I had been cursing as way too hot less than a day ago.

Warrick hopped off the juice maker car pranced over to Vanity and I.

“Not bad right?” he asked way too smugly.

Vanity grinned and kicked sand at him. “I’m the one that said to take the car!”

“And I’m the one that drove the thing. You have any idea how hard it is to operate something like that?”

I lay down in the sand, staring off into the horizon.

“You wanted to take the propeller thing. I made the good choice,” Vanity demanded, sticking her snout in the air.

“You only chose the cider press because you liked the color! You two almost died back there!”

I began to fade from consciousness, the full effect of the pain medication finally taking hold. The sounds of the warm breeze and my sister arguing with our now two-time savior, the warmth of the desert sun, the gravely feeling of the sand against my skin. It all began to fade away. And as my vision of the endless blue sky left me, I thought I saw a single cloud marring the otherwise clear expanse.

A single grey cloud.