Fallout Equestria: Without a Spark

The pain in my broken leg was growing with every step. The bone was grating against itself at the break. To my left, the mare wasn't faring much better; while uninjured, she was pushing herself too hard. Too much of it and she'd collapse, and I'd have a hard time pulling the wagon with all three of them in it. Truth was I didn't know if we were being followed, but that's the reason we had to keep moving. If we stopped, just hoping nobody was tailing us wouldn't stop them if they were.

The brown and grey landscape passed by agonizingly slowly, and in the very distance I could just make out the rusted walls of the town, stacked high with boxcars; they'd improved the walls since I'd been there last. Almost directly behind us on the horizon, the faint outline of a giant mountain stood, rising up into the clouds, with a pink blotch on the side. A dense fog was rolling in from the west, obscuring the gentle hills and road that led to Ponyville. We gad to keep going. We were almost there.

The purple unicorn staggered, trying not to trip over her own feet as she regained her balance. Her husband was slipping into unconsciousness for the third time, and that colt didn't have the strength to pull the cart if she fell; I doubt I had it anymore. "Miss, you got to slow down," I huffed, "If you go down, I don't think I can pick ya up."

"Have. To keep. Going," she panted. She was definitely hurting, her voice cracked with pain. She was scared; maybe from her husband's wounds, maybe because she was thinking the same thing I was and figured more Raiders heard the gunshots and were closing in. Her eyes stayed fixed on New Appleloosa.

"Mom, slow down," The red colt said quietly from the cart. "Dad's gonna be okay. And the stallion can protect us if we're attacked." At his words, the mare slowed to a quick trot. She had the same look in her eyes, but at least she wasn't going to collapse between here and the town. Although, with only ten bullets left and a splinted leg, I'm not sure how much protecting I could do if things went south.

After a few minutes at the slower pace she was a little more surefooted. We sped back up, but I was still concerned about the mare. If she fell, I couldn't haul them both in the cart, and the colt wouldn't have the stamina to. My last ten bullets were loaded in two revolvers; if we were ambushed I doubted my ability to keep any of us safe. Had to keep moving. Almost there. Our hooves scraped on the ground, both too tired to pick them up properly, while the wagon wheels squeaked with every turn. Her husband groaned in the back on every bump, and the colt was trying to suppress his sobbing. The air was turning muggy with the incoming fog, as if right before a rain. The walls steadily grew larger, and even though we were probably safe we didn't dare slow down.

After a few more minutes, we reached the rusted gates. They slid open at our approach, screeching and grinding loudly. As we crossed the threshold, the mare hit the ground hard, momentum of the cart pushing her through the dirt a few feet and leaving her scraped. The colt cried out and jumped to his mother's side when she didn't get up. Suppressing the urge to vomit from exhaustion, I turned to one of the guards. "Where's the doc?"

"I'm not sure at--"

"Then fucking find him!" I had to swallow a mouthful of bile to shout again. "DOC!" A few heads poked out, but no one answered. "DOC!" Dammit, which one of these was the clinic? "DITZY!" A familiar fleshy head poked out from a string of three boxcars, looking around; when she saw me she started waving. "Got any healing potions!?" The head bobbed up and down excessively and vanished back inside. A moment later she flew out with several flasks cradled in her hooves, stopping next to me. Her eyes widened when she saw my splint, and rushed to uncork a vial. "The stallion in the cart. Him first. Then the mare." She dropped one next to me, and took the rest over to the cart where the colt was laying next to his mother. The small pony yelped and tried to hide behind the tired mare at the ghoul-pony's approach.

"Get away from my family!" The unicorn staggered to her hooves, horn sputtering blue light. Ditzy stopped and glanced back at me, worried.

"Goddammit miss, she's trying to help!" We were starting to draw a crowd. The town doctor was still nowhere in sight, lazy bastard. "I suggest you let her. She's a friend of mine, and I ain't about to let anythin' happen to her, or you."

"A herd of them overran our town two weeks ago." The colt still quivered behind his mother, who was looking a little ashamed at her own outburst. "We're all that's left."

"Ditzy's no feral, I promise. Now, will you let her give your husband the potion?" When the mare nodded I thought Ditzy was going to catch fire from beaming. She tilted the stallion's head up and let most of the potion run down his throat, pouring the rest on his wounds. He remained unconscious as his wounds healed, slowly but surely. Ditzy quickly scribbled 'Needs real doctor' on her blackboard. "Go find the Doc, Ditzy. I'll take one for my leg." She bobbed her head and jumped into the air. I never understood how she could fly without feathers. Or patches of fur and skin. Magic is weird sometimes.

I pried the cork out of a vial and downed the contents. My leg felt incredibly stiff in the splint as the potion went to work; it wouldn't outright fix the leg, but it'd at least help the bone knit together. Ditzy returned shortly, pushing a bleary-looking green unicorn with a yellow mane and syringe cutie mark towards the cart.

"Gah, alright Miss Ditzy, alright! That's quite enough." She poked him in the side with a hoof. Hard. "Ow! Fine, fine! I'm on it. No need to be pushy." She jabbed him again. "Ow!" He finally moved to the unconscious stallion, pressing an ear to his chest and prodding various places. "He appears to be stable. May have fainted from shock or blood loss, but then again you can't put a tourniquet on a torso. Should be okay after a few days of rest, I'll bring him to my office in a minute." Turning to me while the mare tended to her husband, he asked, "Now, how'd you manage to break that leg?"

"Jumping off a third story deck."

Doc frowned. "Don't you travel with healing potions? Or common sense?"

"I had a batch from the Hoof." Ditzy matched the Doc's disapproving expression. "Can I just get a room for the night?"

The ghoul pegasus wasted no time in scrawling 'Follow' on her board. Ditzy led me into Absolutely Everything, her store. A colorful sign read 'Yes I do deliveries!' and 'No hooves? Nasty stinger? No service' hung on the wall. A large assortment of goods was spread over the counters and shelves, with more locked away in various cupboards and safes. Once inside, she slid the boxcar door shut and put up a closed sign.

There we stood, looking at each other for a moment, before embracing in a hug. I guess somepony else would think her smell as foul or rancid; for me, it was oddly comforting. It was as close to a smell of home as I'd ever known, and she did her best to minimize it. "It's good to see you again, Ditzy."

Backing away, she scrawled 'Good to see you' on her chalkboard, followed up by 'What happened?'

"Punchline." I sat back on my haunches as best I could, tired from the morning's events. "He's been leaving booby-trapped toys on the sides of roads, thinking it's funny. Tracked him to a Ministry of Peace building two days north of here. Tracks led inside. He had little games set up for me. Thought I had him trapped on the third floor..." I stomped my forehoof angrily. "Bastard had been outside the whole time. Tricked me into thinking he was about to blow the whole place, so I jumped. He ran off towards Ponyville and left me in the street."

'You were friends last time you were here.'

"We were. How many years ago was that? Two? Three?" Ditzy nodded. "We started splitting up shortly after. Punch was the first to go, cracked and ran off. Then Snowflake, Wire, Doc, and..." I swallowed. "And Basket. We had a fight, she stormed off, and I haven't seen her since."

'What will you do?'

"I'm going to find them. And I'm going to kill them." Ditzy recoiled as if I had struck her. "Punch went insane, Snow's a slaver, Wire's a bandit, and Doc mentioned experimenting when he went!"

She was shocked, and took a minute to write down her reply. 'Can't you give them a chance?'

"They had their chance. You weren't there when they left, saw what they were doing. It's the only way, Ditzy. They're just making more misery out there, and I'm the only one who will stop them." In truth, I'm probably the only one that cared to.

'Why you? Why them?' Her eyes were pleading with me.

"Because I'm old, Ditzy." She raised what was left of her eyebrow. "Compared to most of the kids out there? I'm old. My former friends are too. They'll see some young gun headin' for them, and waste him 'fore he could blink. I'm making for Ponyville tomorrow morning, and I need supplies."

Ditzy sat down, looking at random places around her shop as she thought, refusing to make eye contact. After a few moments of silence, she wrote, 'What do you need?'

".357 magnum rounds, as many as you have. Healing potions, Med-X, Radaway, new barding or replacement parts, dynamite, Wonderglue, mines, rope, water, food, and lots of coffee. I have caps to pay for it all." She nodded and searched around her shop, occasionally glancing back at me. "I'm going to stretch my leg."

"Ain't you had enough, Judge?" The brown unicorn eyed me suspiciously.

"Naw. Another." The sun had set outside under the cover of an overcast sky. The bar was beginning to fill with ponies weary from a day of work, talking and joking until the noise blended into one loud unintelligible gibberish. The metal counter was rusted and dirty, the shotglasses were smeared with Celestia-knows-what, but I didn't care. All I wanted was more. Something to muffle the thoughts in my head. The reddish liquor filled my glass, and down it went. The bartender was fiddling with his drinks again. "Another."

"I should cut you off right now." He swapped my glass out for something a little larger, and filled it with more whiskey.

"Fuck off." Down that whiskey went. Something was wrong... It didn't taste right. "What the hell was in that?" My words were slurring together.

"That was my Suckerpunch," he said smugly, glancing at his watch.

"Whas a fuckin' Suckerpunch?" I didn't like that name.

"Give it a minute. Go take a piss, I'll get you some more when you get back." He turned around and started dealing with other customers, ignoring my shouts for another shot. What the hell, I'd go piss somewhere.

It took a minute of stumbling through the crowd to find the bathroom. Just a piece of cloth covering a closet with a bucket and cleaning supplies inside. Found you! I wasted no time in relieving myself; it felt pretty damn good after all.

"What the-- Well, I did tell you to piss. Would've preferred if it hadn't been in my mop bucket."

I looked around; a mop was standing next to the bucket. "Oooh, whoops!"

He checked his watch. "Remember that Suckerpunch?"

"Yeah, gimme some fuckin' whiskey this time. None o' that watered down bullshit."

"3... 2... 1..." The world went black.

I woke up on my back feeling cold and wet. The ceiling rotated above me, and bile filled my mouth. Swallowing, I tried to sit up. Bad idea. The vomit stopped mid-swallow and reversed, spewing into a tin bucket that had appeared in front of me. No chance to take a breath before more came up. And more. It stopped just long enough for me to take a short inhale before rocketing out again, spraying the grey bucket with green liquid.

"Dammit... Who's there?" I was still slumped forward, leaning on my forehooves. Then the grey forelegs holding the bucket gave me my answer. "Sorry Ditzy. I can't read anything right now." The bucket dropped between my hooves.

"It's breaking you," a soft voice murmured.

"Who the fuck said that?"

"Don't let it break you," the voice said again. It was familiar... I took a chance and looked up from the bucket. The little red colt was sitting in front of a concerned Ditzy, reading what she wrote. Another wave of nausea hit and I returned to staring at my sloshing container, adding another mouthful. "It broke them. Don't let it break you."

"I'm sorry Ditzy. I never meant... Just a shot. Then another. And another." I groaned again. "I have to do this, Ditzy. I'm sorry." I couldn't bring myself to tell her the Wasteland broke me years ago when Basket vanished, ending the last of my friendships.

"Don't be," he read slowly, "Your saddlebags are packed. Don't tell me what happens."

It was the last hill I could still see New Appleloosa from. The walled town stood alone, a few railroad tracks meandering their way to it, looking dull and lifeless under the grey sky. A few more steps, and it'd disappear. Maybe I'd see it again someday. Maybe not.

I had strayed from the road and was walking a route parallel to it. I'd be outside of any ambushes set up, giving me the edge. Punch was probably somewhere in the town. Knowing him, he probably decorated his choice of residence with an absurd display. Sneaking might be my best bet to get in, but that was one thing I was never good at. Had to try at least; walking in guns blazing would be an easy way to die if the raiders were home.

The sparse trees and hills produced the normal eerie silence. Shadows were faint if they appeared at all; the clouds, as always, obscuring the sky. As daylight faded, I figured I'd keep pushing into the night. Punch might decide to run someplace else, and if he did I'd be hard-pressed to catch up with him again. I've gotten too lucky, too many times tracking him and I wasn't about to push my good fortune.

First came the hoof-stubbing. Then the poking of invisible sticks. After only an hour of drudging around in the dark, I gave up and made camp. Without moon or starlight, it was near pitch-black and running into broken tree limbs and invisible rocks was getting old, not to mention keeping direction was becoming a problem. In this darkness I had the navigational skills of a cupcake.

A simple dry depression in the ground served just fine, it was deep enough for me to stay out of sight of anyone scanning the area. I ate a few bites of Cram, drank half a water bottle, then laid my head inches from my foreleg's holster as I drifted off to sleep.