“So, what's our next move?”

Wild’s voice broke the silence that had fallen across the group. I tore my eyes away from the distant lightning on the western horizon and thoughts of my niece to look over at the orange pegasus sitting nearby. Her feathered wing had easily healed from the grazing shot by the raider sniper (if raiders could be said to snipe; their skill with firearms had thus far proven poor at best, such that their only saving grace was sure weight of numbers), and despite looking as worn as everypony else, she seemed ready to move. But then, the pegasus always seemed itching to move. I wonder if all pegasi are like that, always on the move?

Beside her, Stone looked decidedly less prepared to make the return trip. The sturdy earth pony’s many wounds had been wrapped in pale white bandages, the stubborn stallion having refused that any more healing potions be used on him. My friend had told Spirit to give them to ponies more in need of their healing, and, reluctantly, the buffalo had agreed and had instead used the bandages.

Over the course of the past hour, Spirit and her new assistant Kanzi, the zebra mare we’d saved from the raiders in the caboose, had seen to the wounded prisoners. At first it had looked rather grim, for the buffalo had already used many of our medical supplies on the original survivors at Sticks, and on me back at Wastefall Gorge. It's not as if we had an overabundance of them in the first place.

Thankfully, the raiders had had a small collection of health potions and bandages scattered throughout the train, which Kanzi had gone around and collected for us. The silent striped mare had dropped the saddlebag stuffed with medical supplies before Spirit’s delighted hooves. With them, Spirit and her new assistant managed to patch up many of the worst cases we’d recovered. But that still left us with a large number of mending, slow-moving prisoners, half-starved and with any number of ailments. It would be near impossible to get them all to safety across the desert with raiders and the local wildlife out to kill anything they’d run across.

I looked from Wild’s storm blue eyes to the survivors sitting in the shadow of the train. Families huddled together for the first time in months without fear of a raider’s lashing whip or brutal hoof. Mothers held foals to their chests, unwilling to let them go for fear of them being taken away once more. Husbands laid beside their wives, comforting them after the horrors they had endured at the raiders’ sick ways. Friends spoke softly with friends as they ate what little rations of food we’d deemed safe from the raiders’ supplies.

Oddly, it reminded me of family gatherings back in Stable 45, when the Overmare would just give everypony the day off and we’d all make our way to the orchard for a picnic. Ponies would spend the day with loved ones or friends, holding one another close. Of course, there was less food here, and the temperature was high enough to make one sweat just by standing, and we also hadn’t needed to worry about radioactive monsters out for our blood. Hmm, come to think of it, maybe this shouldn’t remind me of those picnics. Despite all the hardships everypony had experienced, there was still a buzz of relief and some joy to be felt from the gathered ponies.

The final count was forty eight, forty eight lives my friends and I had saved from whatever horrific fate awaited them within the walls of Kanter City or the darkness of the train tunnels ahead. Forty eight souls that now looked to me as a hero, a savior. It was not a role I wanted; I was no hero. I was just a pony. A lost pony from a Stable who’d gone out to save his friends and family. I’d saved ponies before, in the Stable, mostly from fires and the odd accident. It was my job. after all, as it had been my father's, and his father’s before him, and so forth. Security is there to defend the ponies we have sworn to protect.

I looked over the gathered faces of the prisoners laying nearby, with their battered bodies and near-broken spirits. Who had looked after them? While we had been safe inside our steel-walled home, what security had defended them? The Confederacy? Rose had made it clear that the Confederacy was too far away from Crossroads to offer them help. Whether it was simply a matter of not having enough pony power to patrol the vast distances, or whether there were simply far too many small settlements like Crossroads, I wasn’t sure.

My wandering eyes stopped upon a family of four near the edge of the tracks, a mother holding her young son and daughter closely to her chest as their father lay beside them, his midsection wrapped in blood-stained bandages. While not twins by any means, the two foals reminded me very much of Ebony and I at that age. Despite the horrors they had witnessed, both children happily hugged their mother while speaking with their recovering father. I could only hope he would fully recover.

I turned away, far too many memories threatening to surface within my already troubled mind. Instead, I looked back to my closest friends. Both Wild and Stone wore worried expressions, but neither said a word, perhaps not wishing to bring up any more painful memories. They’d seen where my gaze had gone, and likely knew where my thoughts had wandered. My sister. Again, the question popped back into my head,

Who had been there to protect my sister?

I sighed softly, my eyes lifting to the heavens above, to the west. To Sugar Pie. Who was looking out for any of us? Celestia? Luna? I had always been taught that they were looking out for us from above. Yet it seemed the only thing looking down on us from the sky were the thick, grey clouds, blotting out any hope of seeing the sun or moon, along with hope of the immortal goddesses seeing anypony beyond that shroud of grey.

I picked myself up from the ground, and shook off the dust and dirt that had settled across my armored form and black coat. The breeze flowed across my mane and tail, relieving some of the heat from my still very sore body. Who was looking out for us? Perhaps we should be looking out for one another. After another few moments of silence, I turned and answered Wild’s earlier question as the solution finally came to me.

“We’re going to find these ponies someplace safe, away from the raiders, away from the horrors they’ve endured.”

Wild tilted her head ever so slightly at my statement and arched an orange-furred brow over her blue eyes. Beside her, Stone simply took a drink from his water canteen with help from the pegasus’s hoof. Neither seemed overly surprised by my answer to her question. I suppose they had half expected me to say something along those lines. After all, Wild had once told me I was unlike any other pony she’d ever meet; perhaps it was rubbing off on her and my large grey friend. Carrion, however, was less used to such things and stepped towards me from the shadows of the train, one of his own rotting brows arched above a glowing orange eye.

“No place in the wasteland is safe from raiders, Shadow. They roam at will, burning and killing anypony who stands up to them. The only places safe from their reach are those heavily armed enough to withstand them. The only place that might be safe from them is half way across the wasteland...”

“...San Ponsisco.” I finished for him, turning to look at the ghoul we’d taken from the tunnels and sewers of Kanter City. I smiled to the former Equestrian Army pony and nodded my head. “You're right, it's the only place I’ve ever heard of this side of the Coltorado River that sounds even remotely safe from raiders. We’re just going to have to get them there.”

“That's hundreds of miles across hostile territory. There’s no way we can get them all safely across the desert without running into at least one raider patrol... and there will be patrols. As soon as the train’s overdue, they’ll start looking for it. I’ll give that bitch her dues, she runs a tight-ass ship,” Carrion responded with a snort. “It's not like we can hide the damn thing either.” He waved a rotting hoof up at the machine behind him and looked over the tired ponies nearby, his shoulders slumping a bit as he sighed (an odd sound with air coming from multiple holes in his throat and cheeks), “I’m sorry Shadow. I know you mean well, but sometimes there’s just no way to save everypony.”

“Perhaps the train is the answer,” Spirit spoke up as she approached us. The buffalo looked tired; understandable, considering she’d been working almost non stop to patch everyone up since we’d brought the train to a halt and had not stopped to rest once herself. “Tombstone has a train station, and from what I have heard, the tracks still run straight to San Ponsisco through the Saddlera Mountains.”

“Tombstone? Rather ominous name for a town,” I said, looking from Carrion to Spirit. The tired buffalo nodded her horned head and went on to explain.

“It was a small town built near the Caledonia border with Equestria many years before the war.” Caledonia. If I remembered my history correctly, that was a somewhat large state that had either gone independent of Equestria or been released from the kingdom, but still fell under the rule of the goddesses. “It’s one of the towns where I went to search for information on my people. I had heard rumors they may have fled into Caledonia within the past few years. The country had not been as badly hit as Equestria. At least, that’s what I have heard, though somehow I doubt that anywhere in the world is like it once was.”

“Right ya are, Spirit. Ah see where yer goin’ with this,” Stone spoke up. The stallion, who had been laying on his side for much of the past hour, now rolled over onto his stomach and got his hooves under him.

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t know this area very well, beyond the inside of Kanter City and the mountains to the north,” Wild said as she began withdrawing a cigarette from her armour and lighting it. Stone watched and frowned at her. He started to swat the smoke away with a hoof, but the pegasus was far quicker and placed it between her lips with a wicked grin and playful wink to the pony.

“Tracks run straight west ta San Ponsisco, and east ta th’ tunnels up yonder. Splits a couple miles back with one line ta Kanter City and th’ other ta Tombstone,” Stone answered the orange mare’s question with a scowl.

Wild blinked and opened her mouth to say something, her smoke nearly falling from her lips as she did so before she hurriedly shut it. Her wide blue eyes traveled from the earth pony sitting beside her to the train behind me. Eyes widening further as she realized what he was getting at.

“So... you're saying we can ride this thing all the way to Tombstone...”

“...and on to San Ponsisco,” I finished for her, smiling. This could just work. “Stone, do you think you can drive this thing?” I asked the stallion. He had seemed to know a bit about the controls, far more so than I (or at least how to read a sign hanging directly in front of my snout).

“Ah reckon Ah can rightly figure it out, Shadow. Can’t be much harder ta run then my pa’s mining carts back home. Just a bit bigger.” I was turning to Spirit as Wild leaned over to ask Stone just how much bigger the train was from his ‘ol’ cart’. The stallion snorted and rolled his eyes, then turned and whispered something into the pegasus’ ears, and for once I saw her clamp her mouth shut and blush brightly. Score one for Stone, it seemed.

“Spirit, when can we move the wounded?” I asked the buffalo. She looked back at her striped helper before turning back to me and giving me an answer.

“Give us a bit to finish up with the last of the bad cases, and we’ll be ready to go in an hour.” She turned away from us and went back to tending to the wounded around her, speaking to Kanzi as they worked their way to the worst cases.

I watched her work before turning back to my two friends and saw that Carrion wore a slightly more hopeful expression than his normal scowl. I also saw that the green unicorn we’d rescued, Balefire, had broken away from the other prisoners and had trotted up to stand near Stone and Wild. He’d fought beside us while we took the train, fighting just as hard and skilled as my companions (if not a little bit more brash, even more so than Wildfire). He seemed a skilled gunfighter, and had mentioned having been from San Ponsisco.

“Sounds like you're the pony with a plan,” he said, red eyes drifting from my sitting friends to me. “If you can get us to San Ponsisco, I can get you inside.”

“Ah reckon we can find our own way inside th’ city,” Stone said with a snort and shake of his head. A green hoof was pushed near his face and he arched a brow up to it’s owner.

“How long’s it been since you last visited San Ponsisco, old timer? Things have changed in the past couple years; they don’t let just anypony inside the walls. Specially not a group of heavily armed ponies like yourselves with a train last known to be in the possession of raiders.” His stare traveled from my friend to me, and he continued. “I’m already along for the ride... all I’m saying is let me help. I’m not the type to be useless... well, not completely.”

“And how exactly are you planning on getting us inside?” Wild asked as she flexed her bandaged wing, “You a personal friend of the President?” It was said jokingly and with a grin, so imagine her surprise at his response.

“Actually... yes I am. She raised me after my town was burned to the ground.”

Wild once more today snapped her jaw shut. Balefire simply shook his black-maned head and looked once more to me.

“Alright, I never turn away a pony willing to help,” I answered. I could use all the help I could get, and had thus far turned down nopony. Well, except maybe Rose’s offer to help. I looked from Balefire to the two other ponies stepping towards me and smiled. Tassles and Silverflash had finally come up for air long enough to stand nearby, willing and able to help, it seemed as they simply nodded their heads to me. My smile widened as I looked over the gathered ponies, buffalo, and zebra near me.

“Alright, while Spirit and Kanzi are seeing to the wounded, we’ll start by cleaning out the train cars of the bodies, as well as anything useful. I doubt we’ll have the time to fix them all up, so we’ll focus on the two nearest the front of the train,” I announced, outlining my plan. “When we’re finished with that, Stone will take Silverflash to the engine and figure out how to drive this thing. Wild, once we’re underway I want you scouting ahead of the train to look for that switch in the tracks. We don’t want to miss it and end up back in Kanter City Station.” Everypony stood up that had not already been standing and trotted towards the open doors to the train car behind me. I was about to turn and follow them inside when I saw the two griffons walking towards me.

“Can ya use a bit more help there stranger?” the male asked me. Both he and his female companion were covered in brown feathers, fading to white near the edges. Their feline hindquarters had the same color of fur, and their tails ended in tufts of almost pure white fur.

“As I said, I never turn away help. My name’s Shadow. How about you two?” I turned away from the train to face the two griffons and looked them over. Like buffalo and zebras, I’d only seen their kind in books and old videos of the war found in the Stable’s school room.

Both wore faded, torn and filthy uniforms of some sort, dull olive green in color with pale yellow stripes running down the sides and sleeves. I saw places where armor pieces had been fixed with buckles and straps to the suits. They still wore empty weapon harnesses on belts and straps across their large forms. The more slender female griffons uniform seemed to have a few more markings on one sleeve; perhaps she outranked him?

“Call me Griff, and the fowl-tempered ball of musty feathers next to me is called Razor,” Griff spoke up, answering for them both. Razor narrowed her yellow predatory eyes upon Griff at his choice of words before huffing and shaking her head. I arched a brow and Griff smiled a bit sadly. “Razor doesn’t say much anymore, not since the raiders cut out her tongue for talking back to them.”

“I’m sorry.” Somehow I wondered if not all the world's problems could be solved by killing every last raider on the planet. A task I’d be more than happy to help on. I shook my head from the dark thoughts before looking back to Griff, “You two mercenaries?” I asked, noting their similar uniforms and remembering Wild saying that most if not all griffons in the wasteland belonged to some sort of mercenary group. She also said they tended to be a bit ruthless and Stone had called them cap-mongers. Well, you know what they say about the pot calling the kettle black; I’d seen that pony loot trashcans for stuff to sell.

“We were,” Griff said with a slight frown, and beside him Razor hissed and elbowed him in the ribs, an action I felt was commonplace among the pair. Narrowing her golden eyes on her companion, she tapped her hind paw and glared at him until Griff cleared his throat and hurriedly added, “We are. Or at least, we’re all that’s left of our unit.” He waved a clawed hand back to two ponies walking up behind them, the same I’d seen sitting with them earlier.

One was a pale blue unicorn mare with a dark purple mane and tail, and beside her stood a tan earth pony mare, who’s black mane and tail were tied back in bands and who seemed to stand closer to the unicorn as my eyes passed over them. Both ponies wore the same olive drab clothing of the griffons. The unicorn’s cutie mark was of an orange flame, and the earth pony’s was a spark battery with two wires crossed. Both had salvaged weapons from the train, though it seemed they’d been repaired by a pony who knew a thing or two about weapons.

“This here’s Sparks, and the small mare beside her’s Jury Rig.” Both nodded their heads in greeting as their names were mentioned. Griff grinned and leaned in close to me. The odd griffon held up a clawed hand beside his beak as if to hide his next words from the pair standing right beside him.

“Don’t go hitting on either one. They like the tongue, if you catch my drift.” I heard a tiny squeak come from Jury and she blushed brightly. Griff snickered before a sizeable stone struck him on the side of his head and he looked over to the still-glowing horn of Sparks. The unicorn narrowed her sharp green eyes on the griffon before turning to look over at me.

“Ignore him. He acts like such a foal sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Griff joked, earning a slap from Razor. Luckily, her claws didn’t seem to cut his flesh. “Ow... the abuse I get from all you ladies. Of all the groups I could have been stuck with in this wasteland, it’d have to be my own aunt and a couple of lesbo mares who won’t even let me watch!” The griffon dropped back onto the ground and groaned, earning several laughs from the ponies around us and glares from his three female companions.

I chuckled as well as I watched Griff scramble back to his feet under the swift kicks of both mares. It reminded me very much of the trip to Kanter City with Stone and Wild, and the things the two had done to one another along the way. Despite what they had said about griffons, I found myself warming up to the odd group of mercenaries and, more than likely, friends. After all, it seemed unlikely that anyone could band together out here in hell and not make friends with those watching your back.

“Well, if you're up to helping us remove the bodies from the train, I suppose we should get started. It’d give Stone and Silver more time in the engine.”

The next hour and a half became a very bloody, very dirty job. We hauled the foul smelling bodies of the dead raiders from the row of train cars and tossed them in a pile. We neither had the time nor the desire to bury them all. They may have looked like ponies, but they were no different from the radscorpions or geckos I’d encountered across the wasteland. Most had bled out across the floors of the train cars, but a few still left red smears where they were dragged out. The griffins had a much easier time of it, with their strong clawed hands to help them easily carry the bloated bodies out. Balefire had his magic to lift one end up and drag them out. I had to alternate using my hooves and mouth.

Meanwhile, Spark, Jury, and Wild searched through the raiders’ armor and saddlebags from the bodies we’d dropped outside for anything useful. Mostly they recovered spare clips, magazines, and lose rounds for the weapons we’d taken off the dead. There were a few close combat weapons as well, but they were just some rusty knives and daggers. Only a small number of healing items were uncovered from the packs of the raiders; only bandages and a couple of health potions. Kanzi had done a very thorough job of searching for supplies for Spirit and the wounded. We did, however, find a large number of drugs shoved into nearly every pocket or pouch they had.

At last we finished with the grim task, and under the suggestion of Griff, hauled packs full of sand onto the train and tossed it over the spilled dark blood, soaking much of it up. After that, we used scraps of wood or metal to scrape up the gelled blood and tossed it onto the side of the tracks. As I had expected, it took us awhile to remove the dead and clean up only two train cars. The rest had been badly damaged in our fight and would take far longer to clean up before we could allow anyone to lay inside them. Spirit had been adamant about getting one car as clean as possible for the wounded ponies, decreasing the already high risk they had of suffering an infection.

With Stone, Silver, and Tassles busy in the engine, Wild strapped herself into the flight harness of the sky chariot and lifted off from the dry, cracked desert soil. The recovering mare easily floated the black armored chariot over the tracks and parked train. She positioned herself above the roofless train car and slowly lowered herself and the former military transport down from the darkening sky and onto the empty car. We’d tossed most of the broken chairs, tables, and litter from the car onto the sides of the tracks to make room, gutting the car even more so than the raiders had.

At first I’d thought we’d just simply unload the lumber from one of the flatbeds, giving us a much larger, safer area to park the chariot (Wild was not about to leave the vehicle behind, nor was I; it have gotten us this far and it seemed wrong to just abandon it). Stone, however, had pointed out that good ponies (along with zebras, diamond dogs, and griffons) had all given their lives for those pieces of wood. It would be a waste to just leave them rotting alongside the tracks with the dead bodies, or to let the other raiders reclaim them. Crossroads had built their wall from scrap metal and salvaged bits of junk. What could somepony do with actual building materials, well... it was worth holding onto.

As night began to descend upon us, we finished with the last of our tasks and prepared to get underway. At least, we meant to do so. While we had been hard at work preparing the train for its departure, tragedy once more struck the former prisoners of Kanter City. Three of the injured ponies we’d fought so hard to save died of their wounds, despite everything Spirit and Kanzi did to heal them. The trio had fought their own battles against the inevitable, but at last the grim pony of death claimed them all.

The bodies of two stallions and an elderly mare lay upon the rough ground beside the tracks, covered by an old battered tarp somepony had found aboard the train. It was a pitiful sight that greeted me as I approached the three still forms. Spirit stood over them as Kanzi saw to the wounded, the large buffalo’s grey-blue eyes staring mournfully down at the dead before her hooves and at the light tan earth pony colt that sat nearby. His short black mane hiding his face, but judging by the shaking of his small form, I imagined that his face was streaked with tears.

I’d seen the young pony with an older stallion hours before as Spirit tended to the older pony’s wounds. Had it been his father? An older brother? Or just somepony who’d given a damn about a young colt on his own in the wasteland? I sighed and stepped softly up to my friend as she glanced over to me.

“All three were from my home,” she said softly, pointing a large black hoof to the covered body the colt sat beside. “He use to run the general store with his son. He’d known my father since he moved to Wastefall, and used to give me candy his sister made when I was young.”

“Did anypony else from your home survive?” I asked after several minutes of silence. She nodded her horned head and looked away from the bodies and me to the ponies standing respectfully nearby. There were twenty, over half the ponies we’d saved.

“Yes, just under half of the population of my home managed to survive long enough to be rescued. Many were killed defending Wastefall. It’s a small miracle that you arrived when you did, Shadow, for I doubt they would have lasted much longer. From what I have heard them say, the tunnel was nearly complete and they would have no further need for them.”

As she said those words my ears twitched and I looked once more to the small gathering of ponies nearby. A miracle? Me? That was the second time I’d been called that today, and others had used the word hero, but I’d really only just done what any pony should have done. Shaking my head, I looked back to the bodies. No, I was neither a hero nor a miracle. If I had been, I would have gotten there a lot sooner and saved a lot more lives. I looked to the colt, who had laid his head down upon the plastic tarp covering his dead father. I would have prevented a young colt from having to grow up without his father. I would have saved my sister.

“We’ll make sure they get a proper burial before we leave,” I spoke softly to my large friend, laying a hoof on her shoulder.

Spirit nodded her head and offered me a kind smile before standing up and walking lightly towards the bodies and the morning colt. The young pony looked up from his father's body to the buffalo standing over him, his large green eyes red from crying. Gently, she reached out and pulled him close to her. The colt wrapped his hooves around her body and sobbed.

We carefully choose the spot to bury those we had lost not far from the track, for time was an still an issue to the living. The longer we remained in once place, the higher the chance we’d be discovered by the raiders searching for the train, or simply by one of the many other horrors that plagued the world. Still, none of us could simply leave these three ponies to the fate we’d chosen for the bodies of the raiders. They would not be left to rot in the hot arid desert for coyotes and other scavengers to tear into. No, we would make sure they were properly cared for, the way ponies should always treat their lost loved ones.

The three still bodies lay carefully wrapped in whatever we had found aboard the train, mostly old blankets and tarps, having been gently lowered into graves dug out by the same tools they had used to clear the tunnel for their former masters. Four wooden markers stood watch above them, driven into the hard, cracked soil of the wasteland by hammer and hoof. Three of them bore a single name and a crude image of their respective cutie marks. The fourth was placed over an empty hole for the lives lost within the sewers and ruins of Kanter City.

Everyone was there. Whether friends, family, or just their fellow prisoners, all had gathered to pay their last respects. The young colt sat beside his father's grave, having not moved since we’d lowered his body into the hole. He’d only allowed Spirit near him since his father had died, and had not spoken. Whenever somepony approached him, even those from his former home town, he simply hid behind Spirits large frame and looked to the ground.

As Stone and Silver finished their work on the engine, the pair, along with Tassles, trotted out to join us for the short ceremony. Spirit rose to her hooves as the last ponies settled in and moved to stand beside the graves, turning to face the crowd. Silence settled over us all and the dry desert air rustled through the brightly colored manes and tails of the assembled ponies, the brown feathers of the griffons, and striped manes of the zebras.

“I am afraid that I am not much of a speaker, as those who knew me as a young calf can atest to. My father had always been much better at this sort of thing than I. But my father is among the dead and buried, and after all he has taught me, it seems unfitting to just leave without saying something.” She glanced to the four graves and the three shrouded bodies laying inside. “It's never an easy thing, saying farewell to loved ones and friends. Especially when it seems that we shall never see them again. While that is true, that we will never see them again in this world... we will see them again in the next.” She looked up from the graves to the assembled ponies, zebras, griffons, and the single diamond dog who stood at the back.

“Father always taught me that when a pony or buffalo dies, they go into a better place. A place where all who have gone before them await their arrival with smiles and warm wishes. They go to a place where the spirits of our ancestors take them in and wash away the horrors of the life they had known, of the pain and suffering they had endured. In this place, the sun still shines down on foals playing in green fields of brightly colored flowers. The moon blankets the night, standing watch over those same sleeping foals.” Tears ran down her cheeks as she spoke, and several of the ponies gathered around us shared similar looks. To my surprise, even Wild appeared to be near tears. Beside her, Stone wrapped a foreleg around her shoulder and pulled her close.

“Father always believed this place exists, far from the evilness of this world, in a place of harmony and love. So I will tell you this. Morn for the loss of your friends, family, and loved ones this day. But tomorrow, rejoice, for they have gone ahead to make a place for us in that land of peace. One day, we will all be together again.”

When she had finished speaking, six ponies moved away from the crowd and towards the graves. Lifting shovels in mouth or magic, they began filling in the holes of the graves. A number of the gathered crowd began making their way back towards the train, the griffons and zebras among them. As the shovelfuls of dirt fell atop the bodies, those who had remained behind began to make their way past the graves before following the others back to the train.

The route back took them around a low rocky hill that hid the grave sites from any prying eyes, a spot picked to allow the dead to rest peacefully. Even the griffons remained silent as they spread their wings and took to the sky, lazily drifting back over the hill. Wild, Stone and Carrion stood beside me as we watched them all go and the six ponies finish their grim task. Spirit and the colt stood watching off to themselves, the buffalo speaking softly to the young pony.

“So you really think this will work, taking them to San Ponsisco?” Wild asked softly as we watched the ponies toss the final few shovelfuls of soil atop the bodies. Behind us, the last of the ponies trotted around behind the hill and out of view.

“Yes, I do. It's our only chance of getting them someplace safe and I’m not about to just abandon them in the middle of nowhere. Not after all we did to save them from the raiders.” I doubted any of my friends would even have suggested it, but I wanted to crush that thought right now should it even be there. Both Wild and Carrion were practical ponies, military ponies. They both had been trained to accept the loss as part of their jobs, and to a lesser extent so had I. But I was not ready to give up just yet. “I’d thought about trying to take them to Crossroads, but given the trouble they’re having with their water supply, I doubt they could take in so many new ponies. Plus there is the simple problem of getting them there around Kanter City.” I glanced between my friends and then to the western horizon. “Also, it’s where Sugar Pie and the others from my Stable will be. I promised her I’d return.”

“If there’s one thin’ Ah’ve learned from travelin’ with ya, it’s th’t ya always keep yer promises, Shadow,” Stone spoke up kindly with a smile, the grey earth pony standing up from his seat near Wild. Looking from me to the others, he started back towards the train. “We’d best get goin’, then. It's a long haul ta Tombstone.”

Wild looked from the stallion to me and rose to her hooves. “At least I can sit most of this trip out,” she shrugged. Flapping her wings, she rose gracefully into the dark sky, catching up with Stone to fly along beside him just above the ground.

Carrion stood up and glanced off towards the west and Kanter City. Releasing a soft grunt, the ghoul closed his glowing eyes before following the others back towards the tracks.

Giving the four graves one more look, I stood up and trotted over towards the fourth marker in the row, the one with the names of all those we’d lost. I placed my right hoof upon the simple wooden plank and gave it a gentle pat. I doubted anything short of somepony yanking them out on purpose would remove it. After insuring the others were driven in as well, I turned and followed after the hoof prints of my friends.

Behind me, the wind blew across the fresh piles of upturned soil and sand, blowing a bit of dust over the markers and into the carefully etched names of the ponies that lay there. The fourth marker's list of names was indeed long, but the one name right at the top stood out, with its size and its careful, loving detail.

Ebony.

As quietly as I could, I made my way through the narrow walkway between the huddled forms of the sleeping ponies around me, and towards the rear of the car. Outside, the desert landscape rolled peacefully past the shattered windows under the cover of darkness. The train moved much slower in reverse with the engine at the wrong end of the row of cars, the clatter of the wheels over the steel tracks almost calming as we moved and rocked across the rails.

Watching over the boiler and the engine were Stonehoof and Silverflash (the pony was a skilled engineer and had been one of Gearbox’s top repair ponies). Tassles was likely also with them, the mare unwilling to let her fiance out of her sight since we’d rescued him from the raiders. I couldn’t blame her for that, nor could many of the resting forms around me as ponies snuggled close to one another.

The only light within the tightly packed passenger car came from my Pipbuck as I shone it before me. I’d woken up a short while ago, and found myself unable to drift back to sleep, my dreams troubled with images of my sister, both from happier times in our former home and of how I found her. I’d woken up covered in sweat and tears and so I’d decided to check on how every other pony who was still awake was doing. It was turning out to be a very short list, as most were sound asleep.

I’d been unable to find Wild, and one of the few awake in my car had mentioned seeing the winged mare moving back towards the rear car with her sky chariot aboard. Since Stone was likely asleep, Carrion had taken up residence in the caboose, and Tassles and Silver would be enjoying some quiet time between one another, I decided to check in on Wild.

Reaching the door to the car, I lifted a hoof up and ever so quietly pulled it open. Despite being nearly kicked from its frame, and the countless abuse from the raiders’ own years of mistreatment, the door opened smoothly and I managed to slip out without waking anypony. Dry desert air blew between the train cars as they gently rocked over the tracks, the breeze rustling through my mane and tail, tugging at my new hat.

For a moment I looked off to the right and simply watched the wasteland pass by. While we were not going much faster than we could have galloped, many of the ponies we had aboard couldn’t even walk more than a few minutes before being forced to drop to their knees. It may be no faster or even slower than on hoof, but it would get us all there in one piece.

After several minutes of just watching the distant rocky mountains and shadowy shapes pass by, I turned away and reached out for the door to the next car. I however found it already opening to the sight of the striped zebra mare who’d been helping Spirit since we’d saved her. Kanzi’s bright blue eyes widened in surprise and she took a few steps back from me before hurriedly looking away.

“I’m sorry to startle you, Kanzi,” I began with a gentle smile. The mare had been treating me oddly since I’d saved her. “I was just coming to check on Wild and see how Spirit and yourself are doing.”

“We’re doing well, sir.” I was a bit surprised to hear her speak to me; the shy zebra had only spoken to her fellow zebra and Spirit. “The injured are well, and Spirit Walker is resting now. She left me in charge.” She sounded a bit worried about this and I smiled, laying a hoof lightly on her shoulder. She flinched from the sudden touch but did not pull away.

“You’re doing a fine job, Kanzi. And please, just call me Shadow. Save the sir for those old and grey.” I lowered my hoof and waited for her to step aside. When she stood there, looking at the floor, I arched a brow, “Is something wrong?”

“No, just...” she seemed about to say something when she shut her mouth and hurriedly stepped out of the doorway. “It’s nothing. Forgive me for blocking your path, sir.”

“Nothing to worry about.” I walked around her, and trotted as quietly as I could on my hooves through the car with sleeping injured ponies. I spotted Spirit laying on the floor near the corner of the room sound asleep, her head resting on her saddlebags as a makeshift pillow.

There were eight ponies laying asleep within the car, those judged too injured to be far from medical help should it be needed. As I walked past them, I glanced over the resting faces of the ponies along the car. Most had internal injuries from being struck by the raiders’ hooves and whatever other blunt instrument was nearby. One had his hind legs broken in a number of places; what purpose he could serve in working to clear the tunnel was beyond me.

I heard the door click silently behind me as Kanzi shut it, and I made my way up to the far door beside the sleeping buffalo. As I neared, I saw my friend was not alone. Sleeping curled up against her large frame was the young colt, resting if not soundly, at least warmly. A smile broke out across my muzzle as I watched the pair resting, one leg wrapped around the young colt holding him close. Both orphans of Wastefall, both bound by loss.

Looking back to the door, I reached a hoof out for the handle and turned it slowly. As I pulled the door open, a soft groan seemed to echo throughout the train car. The hinges gave off a soft squeak, and I was afraid it would disturb some of the wounded. I winced and laid my ears back as I glanced back to the row of sleeping ponies. It seemed, however, that it was not loud enough to disturb even Spirit and the young colt that lay nearby. As I began turning back to the door, I spotted Kanzi looking towards me with a slight blush on her white cheeks.

I hurriedly stepped out into the dry desert air, closed the door, and shut my eyes. Sweet Celestia, not another mare who seemed interested in me. At least none had been as forward as Rose. Ebony would have teased me relentlessly for all of this if she’d been here, then likely worked to set me up with one, if not all, of them. That mare was so naughty. I began to turn away from the door when I realized that I had just thought of my sister as still being around. A slight tinge of pain ran through my heart and I sighed.

Having gone through something like this twice before, I knew the pain would eventually fade with time and help. But then, both times before I’d had Ebony there to help me through it. We’d both grieved the death of our parents deeply when we lost them, our father first to his injuries and mother a few years after from a mix of old age and sorrow. If not for one another, I doubt we’d have managed so easily to carry on. We’d always had a special bond, being twins and all.

Mom had always delighted in telling anypony who’d listen how cute we had been as foals. How we’d seem to be thinking and saying things almost at the same time. In fact, our first words had been said within seconds of one another; oddly enough, it had been ‘cupcakes.’ But then, mom had always spoiled us with treats. It was like we were really just one pony, but still different enough to each be unique. Now, however, I was on my own, forever. That thought alone frightened me more than I cared to admit. I’d always thought that Ebony would be with me for as long as we both lived. It didn’t seem possible for one twin to go on without the other.

A sudden jolt from the train nearly caused me to stumble onto my face. Opening my eyes, I found myself standing within one of the ruined train cars that we’d simply not had the time to clean; it had been far too damaged in the fight. Broken bits of chairs and tables lay scattered in piles along the edges of the room, along with shards of glass and spent shell casings. Thankfully, we had at least swept most of the debris to the sides. The floor rocked again and I heard the entire car groan as we passed over a bad section of track or some other issue occurred. Within moments we were once more traveling along steadily and it seemed that whatever the problem had been, it had passed.

Shaking my head of thoughts of my sister, I pushed on through the car and towards the next doorway, with the roofless passenger car just beyond it. Pushing the door open, I found the bulk of the sky chariot filling nearly the entire car ahead and crushing anything we’d been unable to remove. Closing the door behind me, I carefully climbed over the flight harness that jutted out from the front of the chariot and made my way around to the side.

I scanned the area and saw no sign of Wild. Perhaps she’d slipped inside the chariot or had gone back to the caboose to talk with Carrion. The two had known one another for a bit longer than anyone else. Perhaps she had gone to knock some sense into the brooding ghoul. The door to the chariot was halfway shut, only being left open a hoofs breath wide, I could see the dim lighting of the inside and the opposite door sealed completely. Hmm, likely the caboose, then, as there didn’t seem to be anypony inside.

I was just passing by the doorway when a sound from within the chariot caught my ear, followed by the chariot swaying just a bit on its landing struts. Odd, but I placed another hoof towards the rear of the car, as I figured the large armored machine was likely just settling as the train moved. But once again I found myself stopping as once more a soft grunt from within the chariot caused my ears to swivel towards the open door. Okay, now I was curious. What the hay was going on here? Was somepony messing around inside the chariot? Wild would flip her bit if there was.

Turning back to the armored sky chariot, I quietly approached the slightly ajar door and placed a hoof up to gently slide the door open a bit more so I could fit my head through and better see inside. Luckily, Gearhearts had done a truly amazing job of repairing the chariot and the door did not rattle once as it rolled back along its track. Poking my head in, I looked from right to left and froze as I spotted somepony inside.

Wild was inside alright... unless there was another orange feathered pegasus aboard the train. She wasn’t alone as I’d expected, however. Stone was with her, and the two were in the back of the chariot doing something between the seats. I couldn’t quite see past the chairs and blinked as I saw orange hooves grasping over the edge of the seat in front of them. Stone was behind her really close to the mare. Suddenly they rolled out into the alley and into view, the first thought in my mind was, Wow, Wild’s sorta flexible... wait...

Oh.

My.

Goddess.

If I could see my face, I’m sure it had turned every shade of red in the spectrum known to ponydom and my eyes were as wide as saucers. I jerked my head back out of the chariot and hurriedly shut the door, not bothering to be silent about it since they’d started making a LOT more noise now. Ears laid back in shock I stepped away from the slightly rocking chariot and back towards the passenger car I’d just left moments ago. Just back away slowly... they are busy, very busy...

“Hey Shadow...”

“AGH!!!” I jumped and flailed my hooves around madly before stumbling back over the flight harness I’d forgotten lay in my path. I landed in a tangle of hooves and wires, looking at a very confused buffalo upside down with stars spinning around her head. No, wait, those were circling my head. Spirit tilted her non-star-encircled head slightly and arched a brow over her grey blue eyes down at me.

“Um... I did not mean to startle you, Shadow,” she said gently, reaching a hoof down to help me up from the floor. I took the offered help, and managed to untangle myself from the flight harness as I rose, kicking out a hind leg that had been wrapped about with a cord.

“Oh, sorry... I just wasn’t expecting anyone to come up behind me.” I winced a bit at my choice of words. Sweet Celestia’s shiny flanks this was worse than walking in on my parents... wait... no it wasn’t, but it was damned close! That had been a very awkward conversation. Also, how did Stone run with that... no no no no no get outta my head dammit!!

“Oh, alright. Well, I was actually looking for Stone. He isn’t in the engine with the others, and Tassles said Wild had stopped by earlier and had wanted to show him something back around the chariot for a few hours.” Oh yes, she was showing him quite a lot. There was MUCH showing going on right now in the chariot behind me. “Have you seen him?” More than I wanted. Ever.

“No! Haven’t seen Wild on Stone... I mean around. Haven’t seen them. Nope!” I smiled widely at Spirit, sweat running down my brow as I stood with my back to the slightly rocking sky chariot. Did it ALWAYS have such squeaky landing gear?!

“I see. Well, I just wanted to check him over and make sure his bandages did not need changing,” the buffalo said, eyes going from me to the chariot behind me as the squeaking grew a bit louder. I laughed, loudly, perhaps too loudly by the odd expression she was suddenly giving me.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” I’m also sure Wild is checking him over very very closely right now. “Say, why don’t we go back inside with the others. I think I hear your laundry calling!” I lifted a hoof up and gently turned her away from the chariot and pointed her towards the door, giving her a gentle shove away from the chariot.

“Um... but I don’t even wear clothes... ”

As luck would have it, once we reached the temporary medical car, Spirit had two new patients to take her mind off of my sudden odd behavior. A good thing too, as she’d been asking me if I was running a fever or been seeing things while we walked back through the empty cars. Well, I’d seen some things alright, but nothing I wanted to share with the medical buffalo, though given her trade I guess it wasn’t anything she hadn’t already seen before.

Entering the passenger car, I saw many of the injured ponies were still deep asleep. Their worn bodies were forcing them to get some much needed rest. Griff turned his head towards us as he heard the sound of the door opening; I still found that sharp stare somewhat disturbing from the griffon. Beside him, his aunt Razor was helping Kanzi with one of the injured ponies, lifting him from his bed and onto his flanks so the zebra could give him some water.

The pair had forgone any treatment while the train had been just sitting along the tracks, probably because neither seemed to want to sit in one place for very long and risk capture again. They had instead focused on helping us get back underway, much to Spirits’ disapproval. While Griff seemed relatively unharmed, Razor’s throat injury looked as bad as it had sounded when they’d told us.

As we’d been hauling the dead raiders from the cars, I’d gotten a good look at the griffon’s injured neck. Whoever had done it had used a serrated knife to slice through the flesh and left a nasty scar that could not have healed very quickly. It was amazing she hadn’t bleed to death, and it had only been due to a health potion that one of their gang had managed to sneak in with them that the griffon had survived.

Kanzi and Razor finished assisting the injured buck and the zebra was helping him rise from his makeshift bed. It was the same pony whose legs had been broken and he had to rely on others to get anywhere, likely the bathroom at the moment. Or in our case, the side of the train. It seemed odd they hadn’t included bathrooms on board something hauling ponies across the country.

As the door clicked shut, Razor approached the buffalo and pointed a talon at her own throat, and her nephew stepped up beside the mute griffon and explained, “She’s been having some issues with swallowing over the past couple hours; she may have popped something while lifting the bodies out of the train.”

Spirit arched a brow and looked to where the talon pointed, leaning in closer to better see. She snorted and tossed her horned head a bit.

“You should have told me immediately when this started.” With another snort she rose up and stepped towards her saddlebags and the medical supplies she kept inside. “Come on over here near the window where there’s a bit more light and I’ll have a look.”

Griff looked to his aunt who simply waved him off and followed after Spirit. I noticed something cross Griff’s face as he watched her walk off to have her injuries looked at. And while I know I hadn’t known either of them long, and the beak was at times harder to read than a muzzle, I believe a look of concern crossed his face.

He looked about the car at the sleeping ponies and then over to me. Seeing me watch him he hurriedly dropped the concerned look and instead adopted his grin and waved to me with a clawed hand. Turning, he walked over towards me and sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall of the train car. This close up, I saw he’d not escaped captivity without a few signs of the raiders abuse. He spoke first, looking from his injured aunt to me.

“So I hear tell you're one of those Stable dwellers?” he asked, looking away from his aunt to me.

“Yeah, from Stable 45. Just on the other side of the Povoni Desert, near Crossroads,” I answered with a nod of my head.

“Ran across a couple Stable ponies in my time wandering across the wasteland. Used those fancy Pipbucks to do some amazing things,” he said, pointing a talon at the one around my hoof. “Even had a member of my crew who owned one, said it belonged to his great grandfather who came outta one of those Stables.” The griffon added, “Sometimes I think he was just lying his sorry ass off about that and he stole the thing; he had sticky hooves. But he seemed to know how to use it and I somehow doubt there’s a ten step program you guys can attend on how to use the thing.”

“It's always been a very useful thing for me to have. In a Stable they are passed down through generation to generation. At least in mine that's how it happened. This one belonged to my grandfather,” I said, looking down at the grey band forever wrapped around my right foreleg, the green screen glowing faintly in the dim lighting of the train car. “It's become a real lifesaver since I came to the surface. Keeping me alerted to threats I have yet to see, keeping me updated on my supplies and ammo in my weapons.”

“A handy thing to have around.”

Indeed it was. I also found it interesting to hear of other Stables across Equestria. We’d all been raised with the knowledge that we were just one of, well, at least forty-four other Stables, but we always knew there were a lot more than just that. There had to be to hold thousands of ponies safely underground from the effects of radiation, all of them waiting for the day to release us back into Equestria to begin rebuilding pony society from the ashes of war. Yeah. That went about as well as could be expected I suppose. To be fair, it's a work in progress...

“Well, I suppose I owe that grey wristband of yours as well.” At my confused look he went on to explain, “You're the first bit of luck we’ve had in a really long, shitty few weeks. Never did thank you for saving our collective asses. Though I’m sure the girls are out making sure those asses are fine... ” he grinned wickedly and wiggled his eyebrows at me. Well, I knew Stone was checking Wild’s.

“Its alright, I’m just sorry I hadn’t gotten there sooner. I take it you’ve been held captive for awhile then?” I asked, attempting to make some small talk to help pass the time, and help get my mind off the chariot. I swear, I’d never be able to sit inside it again.

“Actually just a couple of days really, a week at most, but our string of bad luck has been with us for longer.” He snorted and ran a clawed hand through the feathers of his head; oddly, they looked a bit like a pony’s mane, with his just slightly spiked, running along his head down his neck, the brown feathers tipped with darker browns and blacks. “All started with the last caravan job we took out of Dise.”

“Dise?” I arched a brow at the name. Who the hell names their town Dise? I’d never heard of it, nor saw it on my map. But that was hardly new. While my Pipbuck had been happily naming the places I’d found, I seemed to have to at least have traveled there, or been within a certain range of them.

“Paradise is what it used to be called, lovely city down in what used to be Caledonia. Hear it was a true wonder to behold it its heyday, still a colorful place today. Not much you can’t find in Dise, no matter what you’re into.” He chuckled and seemed to focus on that for a moment as a goofy grin spread across his beak. “I’ll have to get back that way sometime, I suppose. Most fun I’ve had in awhile.”

“So you guys protect caravans then?” I asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to the original topic we’d started on.

“Yep, along with town guards, pest removal which includes both raiders and wildlife, item recovery, food finders, soldiers, bounty hunters... you name it, we’ve likely done it.” He began naming off their jobs while counting them on his claws, “So long as they’ve got the caps, we’ll get it done,” he said proudly.

Hmm, well, that didn’t sound too bad, I suppose. All of those things seemed at least honest enough work. As honest as one can get in a world filled with raiders, slavers, and giant radscorpions anyway. We both turned our heads as Kanzi reappeared with the stallion in tow, helping the buck back into his bed once his business had been completed.

The striped pony looked up from her work at us staring at her and blinked. When she saw me looking her way, she blushed and turned back to go help Spirit with Razor. Griff looked back over to me and grinned, leaning over to poke me in the side with an elbow before he went on.

“As I was saying, we’d just picked up a job in Dise for this pretty young mare. She was part of some love and tolerance group for healing the wasteland or some shit. Wanted to come up to Equestria and help the ponies here with medicines and the like. Caps were good and seemed easy enough. Razor left half the group back in Dise to find some small easy jobs for them while we went north.”

“First couple days should have been a warning for what was coming. We came under raider attack almost as soon as our feet and hooves crossed the gate of Dise. It was nothing major, just a couple of drugged-up nut jobs needing to be put down. I suppose it was easy enough for us to just chock it up to the dregs of Dise out to make some quick caps for more shit to inject themselves with. After that, it was one thing after another. Not long after the first attack, one of the wagons broke a wheel and we had to replace it. Then we somehow stumbled upon a nest of radscorpions, lost ol’ One Eye to those clattering bastards.” The griffon shook his head sadly, the memories of Dise turning sour as he recalled the loss of one of his group.

“Once we entered Equestria, we were under almost constant attack by raiders. After several days and only moving a couple of miles, Razor decided to have us hole up in an abandoned farm house a couple miles southeast of Tombstone, try and regroup a bit and patch ourselves up.

“In hindsight, it was a mistake. Even Razor admits it, but it's always easier to see mistakes when you're remembering things. Anyway, that night they surrounded the farm and began just unloading with everything they had. We were outnumbered but we made them pay for everyone of us they dropped... ” he trailed off and looked away to his aunt as Spirit rubbed something gently on her throat with a hoof. “...Well, you get the idea. After that, they picked us up and hauled our sorry asses off to a really piss poor hotel with shitty room service.”

I nodded my head and looked over to the others as well, mulling over what he told me. I’d already expected to find out that the raiders were a very widespread problem. I’d always heard Three Horns talking about them attacking settlements from San Ponsisco all the way across the Rocky Mountains and into eastern Equestrian. But they were in another country as well? A thought suddenly crossed my mind and I turned back to the griffon.

“Griff, was the caravan you escorted made up of unicorns?” By the odd look he was giving me, I’d already had my answer.

“Actually, now that you mention it there did seem to be a large number of them, yeah. A couple of you earth ponies, of course, but most of the medical team going with the mare were unicorns, including her. How’d you know?”

“They attacked my home and took as many unicorns as they could get, and I’ve heard they’ve been attacking settlements out in the wasteland and doing the same, killing the rest.” I just couldn’t figure out why anypony or anyone would want to kidnap unicorns if all they were having them do was dig out a tunnel. No, Tassles had said the leader had personally gone around asking for unicorns to join her.

“Well, that might explain why they dragged the girls off when we were captured for a couple of hours. Razor and I was afraid they’d just rape and kill them, but they were both dumped back into our cell after only a few hours. Sparks said she’d been approached by some shadowy mare in a cloak and hood asking for ponies to join her in saving Equestria. Sparks told her where she could go fuck herself. Not the best choice of words around a couple raider stallions.” His face darkened and I heard his claws scrape across the flooring of the train. I knew that feeling well, and went to change the subject.

“Did you ever see their leader? I heard her called Mad Eyes a couple times by different ponies.”

“Mad Eyes? Fitting name for that bitch. Yeah, we saw her once. That mare’s got a couple griffon merc companies working for her. They have shadier work ethics than even us, and that's saying something. Anyway, they're all run by a single leader, griffon by the name of Big Show. More like Ass Hole... anyway, he had us rounded up from the other prisoners and brought to their headquarters in the city, some big fancy hotel in the center of the walled-in section. They dragged us up a couple flight of stairs then shoved us into a working elevator. Took us to the top floors, or what were left of them.”

I nodded and listened to his story, recalling the shorn-off upper stories to the skyscrapers in the city. None, it seemed, had escaped the blast of the balefire bomb.

“Lead us through a couple of hallways and into what must have been a pretty sweet apartment, ‘least until the blast ripped off a section of the outer wall. Big Show was there, and asked us to join his crew. We’d be given a share of the spoils, along with food and medical attention, if we did. There were a couple of ponies there was well, large black-armored stallions standing near the doorway and a half ruined desk near the ripped away wall. Like Steel Ranger armor, but all raidered out.”

Tassles had mentioned them, the silent guards of the raiders leader. Were they indeed Steel Rangers, or just salvaged suits? From what I’d learned in the history books, the Rangers had been heroes of the country, fighting zebras and dragons at times one on one. But from what I’d heard on the radio and what my own friends had said, the Steel Rangers sounded as bad as the raiders at times.

“The one other pony in the room was a creepy bitch sitting at the table. She was all dressed up in black robes and a hood. Didn’t say much, just sat there doing something with her hooves and a piece of paper and scissors. Anyway, Ass Hole was expecting a responce, and after what they’d done to our surviving teammates... well, Razor took a page from Sparks’ book and flipped them the bird.” He grinned and I arched a brow. Flipped them the what now? Before I could ask the grin slowly faded and he glanced to his aunt. “Wasn’t a smart thing with the mares and wasn’t a smart thing for us. Still, I’d like to have done the same thing, if not just to show ’em what a real pair looks like.”

Hmm, if all griffons were like this, I could see how Wildfire had run with them as she did. They both seemed to speak the same language of four letter words and vulgar comments. So did I, come to think about it.

“The bitch, Mad Eyes, just laughed suddenly and shut her minion right up. I’ve seen and heard some crazy fucked-up shit in my time, Shadow, but I’ve never heard anything quite like that laugh. I think it got everyone's hackles up. Then she lifted her hooded face up to stare at us and I could have sworn I’d seen a pair of glowing red swirling eyes in the darkness before she held up a paper cut out of griffons. The fucked-out mare was doing arts and crafts. She held up the scissors in one hoof and said “Off with her head!” and started cutting the heads off her line of paper griffons. The black armored creep squad just grabbed a hold of us. It's like they just appeared beside us, and they were strong fuckers too. Held us down as Ass Hole advanced with a dagger, and, well... ”

Yep, there certainly didn’t need to be much else said after that. I looked over to his aunt as she stood and nodded her thanks to Spirit before starting back towards Griff and I. The griffon arched a brow to us as we both stared at her, then rolled her eyes and pointed a talon towards Griff, then back to Spirit.

“Well, looks like it's time for my check up. I’m sure we’ll talk more later, Shadow.” Pushing away from the wall, the griffon walked off towards Spirit’s slightly more lightened work space.

The more I learned of this odd mare Mad Eyes, the more I wondered just who she was and what she was doing. It seemed she had some plan for the wasteland, and had gathered an army of raiders to help see it through. What she wanted with unicorns or what her ultimate goal was, I had no idea. Was it the reason she’d attacked my Stable? And had that disappearing pony been the one who opened our door and let his friends in? Then again, he was dead, rotting alongside the tracks like the refuse he was. As for the plots of an insane mare leading a band of crazy-ass ponies, well, it could be somepony else's problem.

For now, I was focused on simply reaching San Ponsisco and my niece.

Slipping away before Spirit could turn her attention back to my odd behavior, I stepped out from the medical car and out into the dry wasteland night air. The steady breeze blew in between the cars, rustling my mane and hat as I shut the door behind me. I found, however, that I was not alone out here. A group of ponies stood between the cars, watching the darkness move past them as the train clanked down the tracks.

Somepony had a radio turned to L.N.R. and soft jazz filled the narrow space with a calm relaxing sound. With a start, I realized that most of the ponies out here were from my Stable. As I stepped out from the car, they turned and saw who I was and at once began thanking me for their rescue. A mare, one who’d never so much as given me the time of day back home, nuzzled my cheek and kissed me. I blushed and simply nodded, or said that I’d just been doing my job. I was far more intent to just return to the passenger car and try to go back to sleep. I was just about to open the door when the music stopped playing from a Pipbuck and the loud, cheery voice of Three Horns filled the quiet night.

“GOOOOOOOOOD evenin’ Wasteland!!! How are my little ponies doin’ out there in Hell On Equestria? Well, its everypony’s favorite time again! No, not happy hour down at Rainbows Bar! It’s... news time!

“Let’s see, where to start? The bad news, the worse news, the shitty news, or the oh fuck news... oh, wait. What's this? Why, this ain’t bad news; at least, not completely bad news. Its actually an update.

“As some of you may remember, or at least those who haven’t died yet might remember, yesterday I mentioned reports of a large group of ponies moving west. Now, some of you might be saying that’s a bit vague, Three Horns, and to them I say, go find your own damned slaves ya lazy ass slavers. I ain’t about to give away a group of what seem to be peaceful ponies just looking for a home.

“Well, I’ve gotten a few new sightings of this band of wastelanders and it seems they are indeed making a beeline straight for little ol’ San Ponsisco and, as it turns out, they aren’t your average run of the mill wastelanders. They’re Stable ponies.”

Whatever small amounts of conversation had been going on at that moment stopped at once as several pairs of ears swiveled towards the radio. She had to be talking of Blaze, Sugar Pie and the others... I’d half hoped they’d reached safety by now...

“That's right kiddies, it seems one of those big ol’ underground hotels opened up and the inhabitants are making a run for safety. The numbers vary depending on who you ask and how drunk they were but it seems to be a group of ponies about a hundred and sixty to two hundred.

“From what I’m hearing, though, they’ve run into a bit of trouble so if any of you Stable ponies out there are listening, Ol’ Three Horns is telling you not to give up. Keep putting one hoof in front of the other and before you know it you’ll be at the gates to the fair city of San Ponsisco and I’ll be buying you all first round of drinks!”

As she began telling of other news, raider attacks on settlements across the wasteland, something odd reports of alicorn sightings across the Rocky Mountains, I stopped really listening. Blaze was still leading our Stable to safety. While I’d rather have heard of them being in the city, at least I’d heard something of them.

The remainder of the trip to Tombstone was thankfully uneventful and sadly lacking in word on my friends from home. As the sun, hidden behind thick gray clouds, lifted across the wasteland on our first day aboard the train, we rapidly approached the switcher and the split in the track. Wildfire (who’d seemed very chipper and all smiles that morning), along with our new griffon friends, flew ahead to find the split and had already thrown the switch by the time we caught up with them. Wild later told me it had taken all three to force the lever to move, it had been so badly rusted and filled with sand from disuse. A good sign I suppose.

The train shook a bit and the wheels ground heavily over layers of sand and rock that had piled up around the tracks as we started down the new path towards the south west. Not many trains had passed this way in the past one hundred and fifty years, and so the worn metal rails were in poor shape and clogged in spots with debris. Only the line to and from Kanter City had been used enough to keep the majority of debris from building up along the tracks. The risk of bad or blocked tracks slowed us down, as did the fact we were driving the train in reverse. Still, it was better time then going on hoof, and far safer.

After the first hour on the new track, the twisted ruins of Kanter City slowly came into view over the low rolling hills. The shattered tops of towers jutting up into the cloud covered northern horizon. Several prisoners stood and watched as the site of the former torment passed by them. Nopony spoke, and we simply stared at the ruins of one of old Equestria’s major cities. I stood beside Wild and Stone as it was finally lost behind rocky hills after another hour's travel. It was a horrible chapter of my life I hoped I’d never have to revisit anytime soon, though the scars from that place would likely be with me for the rest of my days.

The tracks began to descend behind those hills we’d been passing for the past few hours, and into the lower country of southwestern Equestria. Those hills soon turned into rocky low mountains and cliffs as we went further down the tracks. Twice we passed groups of radscorpions that had gathered along the tracks; the creatures had made their homes in the dozens of caves of the rocky terrain. While not as large as the ones we’d fought at the Power Station, they were still large enough to cause trouble for any battered prisoners, and there were a number of bleached bones lying along the tracks. Most were buried deeply in sand, but one looked to have something grey wrapped around a leg bone. Oddly, it looked like it had been a Pipbuck.

During the trip, those aboard the train found whatever they could to pass the time. Most simply stayed within the two passenger cars we had cleared out, resting or sleeping for long hours. Balefire spent most of his time playing poker with some of the prisoners or attempting to sweet talk Kanzi, who seemed to ignore the young pony for the most part.

The loud smart-mouthed green unicorn was quick to speak and slow to think. He seemed a bit shifty and underhoof at times, but he’d more than proven his worth in a fight. He also seemed to genuinely care about the prisoners aboard the train, and I’d seen him more than once joking or cutting up with a couple. His black mane and tail seemed naturally spiky and unruly, and somehow I doubted he’d ever tried to tame it with a comb. His cutie mark, now that I had the time to see it, was a broken padlock, so he likely had some skill with lock picking and the sort. I’d hesitate to jump to conclusions and call him a thief but he did seem to have the personality for one. Or maybe it was just my security training kicking in. He claimed to be a member of the Confederate Army and from San Ponsisco, and while he had a slightly unsavory feeling, he seemed harmless enough.

Spirit and Kanzi spent much of their time looking after everyone on the train, from ponies to griffons to the aloof zebras. Only Kanzi seemed interested with interacting with the others aboard. The striped mare helped look after the worst cases we had, thankfully it seemed we’d lose no more to their injuries. When they did have some downtime, Spirit looked after the young colt from her former home. The pony had not gotten far from her side during the entire trip, except when he drifted off to sleep and she’d tuck him in near her saddlebags. The buffalo also spent time training Kanzi on first aid. For her part, the zebra seemed happy to learn and help, and spent nearly all her waking hours in the medical car learning. Well, when she wasn’t being bothered by Balefire.

Stone spent much of his time in the engine, keeping the train running smoothly alongside Tassles and Silverflash. Although I did catch sight of the gray stallion and orange winged mare slip off late in the evening to ‘check on some things’. I suppose Spirit wouldn’t need to worry about the stallion’s injuries, since he clearly had enough stamina to keep Wild happy. The thought once more made me smile (now that I’d finally gotten the mental image out of my brain), as two of the closest friends I’d made on this journey drew closer together themselves, despite their bickering. It seemed a match made in a radioactive wasteland.

Carrion, I did not see much of during the trip. The ghoul spent most of his time in the caboose on lookout duty. He, along with the griffons and Wild, were scanning the tracks ahead for any sign of damage that may derail the train. The former Equestrian Army officer had grown silent the further we traveled from his home. I knew what he was going through and simply checked on him from time to time. While he was still at times a bit of an ass, he seemed more willing to listen to me.

Griff and Razor spent nearly all their time in the air, flying along the tracks both ahead and behind the train on scouting duty, and I was very grateful to have them. Otherwise we’d be driving blind, running the risk of either striking a bad section of track or being ambushed. Maybe I was being a bit paranoid, but paranoia in the wasteland was turning out to be a bit of a good thing. The pair didn’t seem to mind much, actually looking as if they enjoyed themselves every time they took off from the flatbeds. A fact I believe Wild shared with them, so it must have been a wing thing I suppose.

Off and on throughout the day, I listened intently for any word on Blaze and the others, but all there ever seemed to be was talk of new attacks and the growing threat of the Super Mutants to the north of San Ponsisco. It seemed likely we’d all be rushing from one problem only to stumble into another.

The third day started out much the same as the second, in silence as the ponies aboard the train ate their rations of food and water. The heat within the train had been rising steadily, with the hot humid desert air blowing through the broken windows offered little relief. Many moved out onto the flatbeds, where the flow of the air moved much more freely.

However, when about mid afternoon Griff returned early from his patrol of the tracks ahead, we all thought we’d finally run into trouble. But as he landed beside the stacked lumber of the flatbed, the griffons beak was split into a wide grin. With a clawed finger he pointed towards the west and the distant sight of a walled city, smoke lazily drifting up from cooking fires.

Tombstone.

I stepped towards the edge of the car and got my first look at the town with the rather unsettling name. Though still some distance away, I could easily see the wall surrounding the rows of buildings. The wall reminded me very much of that friendly little town some miles away from here, patchworked and hastily assembled from whatever they had at hoof at the time. It was clear, however, that this town was much larger than Crossroads, with perhaps twice the number of buildings and far larger, a few even standing well over the wall by a couple of stories.

We’d be there by nightfall.

The train slowly made its way across the plains towards the walled town. We’d left the narrow cliffs and hills behind as we drew closer to Tombstone, the landscape once more turning flat. As we neared the pair of gates that blocked entrance to the town via the tracks, we drew to a halt and the engine let loose a cloud of steam and smoke at what was the rear of the train. Spirit had suggested we walk the remaining distance on foot, to give the guards on the wall time to see we were not raiders. Hopefully they’d ask questions first and shoot us later. For once during this trip, I was thankful the engine was facing the other direction and at the other end of the train. We’d not been able to remove the remains of some unfortunate pony chained to the smokestack, and it had been grizzly, to say the least.

With steam clouds still rising up from the front of the train and the overworked engine, Stone, Wild, Spirit, and myself dismounted from the caboose and set hooves on the dry cracked ground for the first time in three days. Like everywhere else in this goddess-forsaken wasteland, it was ridiculously hot, and we were already covered in sweat from being aboard the train. I imagine we’d likely also begun to smell a bit, but after the first couple of days I’d not even really noticed. Our gear and clothing was filthy and, in spots, covered in long dried blood. To be honest, I’d likely have shot us. I glanced to our guide and she nodded her horned head towards the gates and took off walking. We set off after her, towards the still distant wall and the hope of a place to rest.

The similarity to Crossroads was uncanny, from the materials the hastily erected defensive line was made to the gates that allowed access to the town within. I could almost imagine the buildings being made of the same color stone and built in similar fashion. I suppose that really shouldn’t be such a shock. Both towns would have likely been built around the same time and by the same builders. And unless they shipped in stone from elsewhere within the country, they would be using the same local materials. As for the wall, well, there were only so many ways to make a pile of junk slapped together look different from your neighbors wall of junk.

Although, they did seem to have a larger number of railroad boxcars making up the majority of the wall here, giving it a bit more height than the one at Crossroads. Even at this distance I could see a number of ponies standing atop the wall, far more than had been patrolling Crossroads. Did they have more guards or was it just not everyday that a train pulled up towards the town? Stone had said before that to his knowledge there were only two trains still running in this part of the country, and we had just stolen one of them. The other was in position of the Confederate Stables of Equestria.

Within twenty minutes we had crossed the open space between where we’d left the train and the wall of the town, and nopony had shot at us yet. So far so good. Dozens of ponies had gathered above us, looking from the distant parked line of train cars back down to us in wonder and some fear. A number of those ponies pointed assault and normal rifles down at us, ready to shoot should we turn out to be raiders. Though it was hard to make out much from where we stood, it looked like they wore armor similar to Stones own set, though theirs seemed to be a dark red color.

“Ah reckon that’s far enough strangers!” a mare’s voice shouted from above. I scanned the crowd above me for the owner and soon spotted a dusty yellow mare wearing a hat similar to Stone’s standing in the middle of the armed ponies. Dark green eyes flicked from me to the others. “Which one of ya’ll are in charge?” she asked, to which I stepped forward. I think you could have heard the sound of a dozen weapons clicking, ready to fire, as I moved, most of them pointed at my head as I reached up a hoof to tilt back my own hat. The mare tilted her head a bit and waved a hoof at me. “So, what brings ya’ll ta Tombstone, stranger? Ya don’t look like our normal neighbors, though Ah reckon that train of yers does. Care ta explain where ya got that there steam engine from?”

“My name’s Shadow, and these are my friends.” I waved a hoof over the ponies and buffalo behind me, before looking back up to the mare. “We’re simply passing through on our way to San Ponsisco, and we’re looking to either buy or trade for food, water, and whatever medical supplies you may have.”

“And th’ train? Last time Ah checked that belonged ta th’ bastards up in Kanter City. Don’t suppose they just let ya borrow it?” she smiled down at me, a brow arched over one green eye. She had no reason to trust me, and if I was in her shoes I likely would be wary of letting anypony into my home I did not know.

“Actually, yes they did. We asked them very nicely.” I returned her smile with a slight smirk, one hoof lightly tapping the shotgun strapped across my chest. “Turns out they didn’t need it anymore after we asked, and we dropped them off in the desert to help feed the local wildlife.” I glanced beside me to my friends before pressing on, “Look, we’re not raiders, just ponies looking for a place to rest and recover. The train behind has a number of wounded aboard, and we could really use your help.” Spirit stepped up beside me and lifted her voice to the mare who I’d been speaking with.

“Sweetshot, you know me. I helped your brother’s wife give birth to their first foal, and you know I have no love of raiders. This pony speaks the truth, I was there when he rescued the raiders’ former prisoners and killed at least a half dozen on his own.”

The mare’s green eyes widened as Spirit spoke up. The ponies around her lowered their guns as their owners turned to look at one another in surprise and whispered hurriedly between themselves. After a moment of hurried conversation between the mare and the nearby guards, she disappeared from sight and I heard her calling down to somepony behind the wall.

“Open it up!”

Stone and Wild both glanced over to me as the heavy scrap heap of a door began to slowly open. Dirt, dust, and rust showered down across the tracks it guarded as it ground to a halt. Rust covered hinges creaking loudly from lack of use. Spirit lowered her horned head from the wall and glanced to me with a smile.

“Well, at least they seem to remember you. How well do you know the ponies here?” I asked as I watched ponies stepping away from the gate to allow us access to the town beyond.

“Not very well actually. I have had dealings only with a small number of the ponies who call this home. I have only been here twice in my life. Once to look for work and information about my people, and once more when I was returning home to Wastefall. It was then when I helped Sweetshot’s brother. My father spoke highly of the town, however, whenever he spoke of his travels across the wasteland.” The buffalo glanced from the wall to me. “I believe they will help us or at least allow us to pass through town without issue.”

I nodded my head and gave a sigh. Good enough, I suppose. I stepped forward towards the opening, with my friends trotting along beside me in a row. Setting hoof past the wall, I found myself in a town very similar in layout and design to Crossroads, though, as I’d seen from a distance, much larger in scale.

Rows of pre-war buildings lined the streets in both directions from the gate, with the center of town taken up by a large four story train station and several tracks for the trains that once ran through town. Like Crossroads, most of the buildings looked intact since the Zebras would have had no reason to waste a balefire bomb on such a small target. Within my view I saw a number of storefronts, as well as two or three saloons. The rest appeared to be homes for the ponies that lived here.

There were a large number of ponies moving throughout the town, most going about their daily lives, shopping, talking, and laughing among themselves. Once more the majority of the ponies trotting along the sidewalks and streets of town were armed with rifles, shotguns, and, more commonly, pistols of every shape and size. Rugged clothing and hats covered most of the colorful earth and unicorn ponies I saw. A number of carts and wagons lumbered through town, taking deliveries to a few of the shops. I could see some making their way towards the far gate, for destinations unknown.

Trotting further into town, I saw a half dozen armed ponies walking down the ramp along the wall to greet us. They wore armor similar to Stones patched together combat armor, though it appeared they had been painted a light green in color. Most had assault rifles, but one carried a hunting rifle with a scope. Among them was the yellow mare I’d seen on the wall. Sweetshot, Spirit had called her.

Without having to crane my head up, or have the wall hiding much of her body from sight, I got a better look at the mare as her hooves touched the ground. Her worn cowpony hat sat perched atop her head, where an unruly crop of her bright green mane lay spilling out across her neck and forehead. Bright green eyes sized the four of us up as she approached us. Like the other guards around her, she wore the same style and color combat armor, although her’s had something similar to my own: a star fixed to the chest. Unlike mine, hers was a five-pointed gold star and bore the title ‘Sheriff’ across it. The ponies following her bore similar stars of silver, with Deputies over them. All looked old, and had likely been passed down through the years from pony to pony.

The Sheriff stepped away from her Deputies and motioned for us to stop.

“So, stranger, is it true what Spirit Walker here said ya done?” she asked, green eyes fixed on my face, looking for any sign I was lying to her. I got the feeling by that intense stare that she was rather good at detecting a lie. I also doubted anypony lied to her much, judging by the twin revolvers holstered across her chest.

“Yes, it is,” I answered, shaking my head a bit as I quickly added, “I was just doing what anypony would have done, however, and I had help.” I waved a hoof to the ponies and buffalo behind me.

“Ah don’t likely reckon ya was. Any other pony’d just turn tail and leave, or ask for payment afore riskin’ ther neck for strangers.” She arched a brow as she stared at me, before sitting down on her flank. “Well then, since Spirit Walker vouches for ya, Ah reckon so long as ya behave and obey our laws yer welcome to stay. Now, Ah don’t suppose we should be leavin’ yer train parked outside th’ walls. Bad neighborhood and all.” She grinned and turned to one of her deputies. “Let th’ mayor know we’re havin’ some unusual guests, and make sure Ol’ Doc Brown knows he’s bout to have his first customer in... well, ever.”

The stallion nodded his head and turned to gallop off towards the distant train station, working his way between the ponies walking about the street. The mare turned back to us and stepped towards me, offering a hoof in greeting.

“Ya likely already overheard Spirit use my name, but Ma raised me with some manors. Name’s Sweetshot, Sheriff of this quaint little piece o’ heaven.” I smiled and took the offered hoof to shake.

“My name is Shadow, the large pony behind me is Stonehoof, and standing beside him is Wildfire. I believe you already know Spirit Walker.”

“Shadow? Just Shadow?” the sheriff asked as I released her hoof. She reached over and lightly tapped the star on my chest. “Sure it ain’t Marshall Shadow?”

“No, just Shadow,” I smiled at the question. “I found it along with my shotgun and the hat back in Wastefall. Seemed wrong to just leave them behind.”

“Shame. Wasteland could use a good Marshall to clean it up.” She looked over my shoulder to my friends and smiled warmly to each. “Well then, Ah reckon we should see ta that train of yers.” With that, Sheriff Sweetshot trotted past us and towards the open gate, two of her deputies following close behind as we brought up the rear.

It took us only ten minutes to bring the train slowly in through the open gateway, despite the fact that they had built it over the tracks. Nopony had really expected a train to actually arrive in town. Sheriff Sweetshot said the most they ever saw were small hoof-pushed carts the railroad company used to use for inspecting the tracks. It seems a couple of inventive ponies had managed to convert them for use as supply carts. This of course lead to me asking about the tracks ahead.

“As far as Ah know, th’ route’s clear all th’ way ta San Ponsisco, but keep in mind Ah never traveled it myself. Just hear say from th’ few travelers we used ta get from th’ mountains,” the yellow law mare said, pointing a hoof past the western wall and towards the distant peaks of the distant mountain range. Near the peaks, I swore I saw caps of white. Snow? No, it almost seemed to be... glowing?

“Used to get?” I asked, as the train below me slowly backed through the gate. Stone, along with a number of citizens, had managed to take apart the upper sections of the gateway to allow the train to pass under. Still, I heard the screech of metal as something scrapped along the roof of the caboose. Sweetshot narrowed her eyes and flicked her ears back as the sound continued until after we at last passed through. It seemed the caboose was a bit taller than the other cars.

“Not many folks travelin’ the roads or rails of late. Far too many raiders and creatures prowling th’ wasteland. Last trade caravan we had actually ended up stayin’ on with us. They talked of small towns bein’ destroyed and all th’ ponies slaughtered or taken as slaves.” The mare shook her head, and looked away from the tracks ahead to stare off towards the north.

“It was much the same story in Crossroads. At first I found it hard to believe how bad it was on the surface, but after this past week... well, I’ve had enough of the wasteland to last me a dozen lifetimes.” From the blank look she was giving me, I lightly tapped the collar of my stained blue jumpsuit and the number 45 upon it.

“Yer one of them Stable ponies, eh?” I nodded and she smirked a bit. “Well, Ah’m guessin’ yer regrettin’ pokin’ yer nose outta that hole in th’ ground of yers right bout now.”

“You have no idea...” The conversation died down for the moment. As the train neared the station in the center of town, I noticed we’d gotten quite a crowd gathered around to watch. I glanced over the faces of the ponies standing on the boarding platform, and those standing out in the street. A few held foals on their backs so they could see better, and most of the children wore smiles as bright as the missing sunlight, never having seen anything like this before. But then, I guess neither had their parents.

With a low steady screech of metal on metal, the train slowly came to a halt before the platform, which, while it was large for a dozen or more ponies to stand side by side, was not large enough to draw even with the entire length of the train. We instead focused on pulling up to the passenger cars currently in use.

“Ah’m ‘friad there’s not gonna be enough rooms for all yer ponies ta be stayin’ at, even if we use all th’ saloons in town. Most of ’em are likely already bein’ used already for their usual activities, if ya catch my drift.” The Sheriff frowned and glanced over past the train station to the rows of buildings near it, “And Ah also don’t reckon th’ saloon owners be lettin’ anypony stay for free. Not many generous ponies in th’ world anymore. Still, Ah seen some wounded among yer lot, an’ I reckon Doc Mitchell will take ’em inta’ his clinic.”

“We’ve some items for trade, like spare weapons and armor we have no need for. Perhaps we can make enough caps to cover those not staying in the clinic. I imagine they’ll be fine with sharing a room. After what they’ve been through, I imagine it’s better than anything they’ve had in awhile.”

“Still, ain’t fittin’ ta let ponies lay on th’ floor after bein’ held by raiders. Ah’ll ask around town and see if Ah can’t at least get ya’ll some spare blankets.”

“Thanks, anything will help.”

Sheriff Sweetshot nodded and we dropped down from the caboose and onto the gravel beside the tracks. Further down the train, the doors to the passenger cars slid open and our rescued ponies slowly emerged onto the platform to stare in wonder at the town around them. I spotted Spirit and Kanzi helping the injured to disembark from the train. A number of townsponies gave the striped mare a rather unfriendly look.

“Ya might wanna keep an eye on th’ stripes,” the law mare said as we walked towards the platform’s stairs. I glanced to her and started to say something when she cut me off. “Don’t go given me that stuff about ’em being just like us. Ah get it, Ah ain’t got nothin’ against them myself. But Ah can’t speak for all th’ ponies of Tombstone. Some have long memories and like ta blame th’ stripes for th’ war and our current livin’ conditions.”

“I’ll let Spirit know,” was all I said as we trotted up to the train and the ponies stepping off it. I’d hoped after over a hundred years that ponies would not be so quick to judge the zebras for the past. From what I’d seen of our history, Equestria was just as much to blame for the wasteland as the zebras.

I shook my head and looked from Kanzi to the others around her. I spotted Balefire grinning and shaking hooves with a number of stallions near the door. The green unicorn was laughing at some joke or another and seemed in good spirits. Carrion stayed back, and most of the townsfolk seemed happy to stay clear of the ghoul. I suppose I could see why he might be more inclined to stay in his dead home city, if most ponies he came across avoided him like this. I’d not exactly reacted all that well to him when I first meet him, but still, he’d proven to be a good pony, if only after nudging him a bit.

The griffons seemed to be welcomed, as both Griff and Razor were surrounded by townsfolk talking with the pair. It seemed they were at least known to the citizens of Tombstone. Of Jury and Sparks I saw no sign, but there were so many ponies around I could have overlooked them.

“Good ta see those two,” Sweetshot said, watching the griffons as they spoke (or at least Griff did) with the ponies asking them questions about news from beyond Tombstones walls.

“You know them?” I asked, looking away to search for Wild and Stone.

“Th’ Razors have protected a number of caravans passin’ through the wasteland around Tombstone over th’ years. From west ta San Ponsisco all th’ way out to Dise down south. They seem an honest group, for griffons at any rate. They’ve a reputation for not lettin’ anythin’ bad happen ta merchants under their protection.” She glanced from the pair to me, and smirked a bit. “Don’t go thinkin’ they’re all soft hearted, though. They expect ta get paid for their work. If ya ain’t got the caps, ya don’t get protection.”

Well, Griff had said as much to me while we’d spoken in the medical car that first night. I shook my head and looked away from the griffons and spotted Wildfire hovering above the crowd. She was speaking to somepony below her that I couldn’t see. Well, not entirely. I did spy the cowpony hat he always wore bobbing this way and that as he worked his way through the ponies around him. As the ponies around the moving hat began to thin out I saw Stone as well as Silverflash and Tassles walking side by side behind my friends. Wild looked up, and spotted me, grinning the mare waved a hoof towards me then called out to Stonehoof below.

“Come on ya ol’ dirtpony, move that fat ass.”

I chuckled and looked away to Spirit and Kanzi as they approached me. I noticed a few more of the ponies around us giving the young zebra an evil look, muttering about those damned striped bastards, or, it’s all their fault we’re forced to live in this hellhole. The striped equine’s ears twitched as she caught every harsh whisper, but she said nothing and simply stayed closer to Spirit. The buffalo I could see was wearing a frown as she eyed the ponies nearest her, a small blue colt riding upon her back, looking around himself with wide eyes at so many ponies.

“Spirit, I think it’d be best if Kanzi and the other zebra stay with you and the injured ponies for tonight.” Both zebra and buffalo turned to look at me. “The Sheriff said there’s a clinic that will take in the wounded for the night. I don’t think most of the townsfolk are as open-minded as us, and I’d rather not cause any problems in the first safe haven we’ve found in awhile.” I offered both an apologetic smile. Kanzi nodded her head and backed up near Spirit.

“It is alright, we are used to this sort of reaction from ponies,” the striped mare said softly, eyes going to her fellow zebras standing near the train and well away from the other survivors and towns folk.

“I had hoped their openness towards me would also be directed towards Kanzi and her family.” Spirit snorted softly and stomped a forehoof, causing the colt to duck down in the buffalos mane. “We should not move the injured, at any rate.”

“Ah’ll have Doc Mitchell come on over ta th’ train then and bring his medical supplies with him,” Sweetshot said, reaching a hoof up to her hat to remove it, the mare’s tangled green mane spilling out freely along with the point of her horn. The Sheriff, it would seem, was a unicorn. “Ah’m rightly sorry for this, but some ponies just wanna blame their problems on others.”

“Its alright, Sweetshot, I know it is not your fault. And thank you. I look forward to meeting Doctor Mitchell. Father spoke highly of his medical skills,” Spirit responded with a smile and nod of her horned head. Behind her, a number of ponies seemed to elect to stay behind with their injured family members or friends. The rest moved off into town to mingle with the townsfolk, among them Balefire.

“It shouldn’t be long, just until morning and we’ll be out of your mane, Sheriff,” I said, looking from Spirit to Sweetshot. The yellow unicorn turned back to me and was about to say something when Wild dropped down beside us in a small cloud of dust.

“Heya Shadow, might wanna hear what Stone has to say first before booking us for just the night,” the orange pegasus smirked and glanced back behind her as Stone made his way between the crowd of ponies. “If he’d ever get his ass up here that is.”

“Ah’m comin,’ Ah’m comin’. Sweet Celestia’s plot, girl, not all of us have wings ya know.” I arched a brow at the swearing. Clearly, Wild had been rubbing off on him- OH GODDESS!

My forehooves went to my head as my eyes shot open wide. I shook my head, trying to get that mental image out of my mind. Get out! I opened my eyes and found everyone around me looking at me funny. I blinked, smiling sheepishly, and lowered my hooves away from my face.

“Sooooo... anywaaaay. Make it snappy, I wanna check out the saloons here. I hear they actually have Wild Pegasus.” The winged pony grinned and flapped her wings a couple times before settling down as Stone stepped up beside her, the stallion giving her a tired look and simply snorting and shifting his gaze to me.

“Th’ engine’s near finished, Shadow. Weren’t meant ta be ran in reverse for so long coupled with it not bein’ in th’ best o shape ta begin with. I swear, Ah think them raiders use everythin’ for target practice or just beat it with hammers till it works.” He shook his head and frowned. “It’s a miracle it got us this far without explodin’ or breakin’ down completely.”

“Can it be fixed?” I asked, although I doubted that very much. Stone was no engineer, and while Silverflash had been one of Gearbox’s best in the Stable, I doubted the pony knew much about prewar steam engines, let alone find the parts needed to fix it.

“Ah don’t rightly know. It’s a bit outa my league, ta be honest.”

“Ah might know somepony who can help you folks., the law mare spoke up beside me. “Th’ pony who maintains th’ railyard, Doc Brown’s his name, has been tinkerin’ with the wrecks of trains for his whole life, or at least most seem ta think so, th’ way he fixes things round these parts. Ah reckon if there’s a pony alive today that knows more about them, it’d be that stallion. Just be warned, he’s a might... odd.” The yellow mare grinned and nodded her head across the tracks to large round building just off from the main section of tracks.

“After the week I’ve had... odd is starting to become normal for me.” I sighed and looked over to my two friends, and couldn’t help but smirk a bit. Wild kept eyeing the town's main street and the saloons there like a filly on Heart’s Warming Eve morning. Loud music and laughter drifted down the row of buildings towards us, and several of the rescued ponies were making their way towards them.

“Stone, why don’t you take Wild into town and try and find out any information about the path ahead to San Ponsisco. See if anypony knows how the tracks are, if there’s any hazards we need to know about.” The stallion blinked and looked over to me as if I’d just sent him to his death. Wild, however, grinned and wasted no time in chomping on to Stone’s brown tail and pulling him away. The gray earth pony groaned and resigned himself to his fate.

“Come on, ya ol’ dirtpony,” the pegasus said between strands of his tail, her grin widening as she went on. “I need a drink after all that shit we went through, plus a warm meal and a smoke... then we’re getting a room for the night and aren’t coming out till morning. Or maybe noon if ya can’t walk well afterwards.” She gave a playful shake of her hips at the earth pony and winked.

Stone’s eyes followed the shaking orange plot and his ears perked up quickly. The stallion lept to his hooves and started pushing Wild towards the saloons in the distance, while she giggled. I don’t think I’d ever seen that pony move so quickly. I chuckled and shook my head at the display.

Turning away from the town, I found Spirit and Kanzi watching the two. The buffalo wore a pleased smile with the pair’s happiness and Kanzi looked a little confused, as if she was missing something. I had to admit, she did look sort of cute standing there looking a bit dazed, her ears flicked back and her lips forming a bit of a pout. Behind them, I saw the battered armor and rotting form of Carrion as he stepped towards us. The ghoul had been silent for the most part, watching the comings and goings of the ponies around us.

“I’ll look after the train,” his rough voice spoke up over the sound of ponies talking all around us. “I doubt the smoothcoats here are used to ghouls all that much.”

“Ain’t gonna lie ta ya, friend, the townsfolk aren’t very welcomin’ to anyone different from themselves, beyond griffons and our horned friend here. They’re good ponies, it’s just that th’ wasteland’s worn ’em down.” Sweetshot said, a note of sorrow in her voice. “We’ve had a few ghouls pass through town o’er th’ years. Most seemed like decent enough ponies, but not many stayed on for long. Ol’ Hank over at th’ Drunken Mare’ll likely not have a problem with any o’ ya’ll. He’s a bit more open-minded than most in town. Gets him into trouble now and then, but he’s been a blessin’ ta this town, so most put up with ’im. Not from Tombstone originally... used ta wander th’ wasteland a bit, Ah think.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am.” The ghoul’s glowing orange eyes scanned the crowd of ponies around him. Most were staring at the train parked behind us, but a few were now looking at the undead pony standing in front of it. It had been a huge relief to finally reach this place, but now it seemed most of my friends would not be welcome in it. I could only hope San Ponsisco was more open. Wait, ma’am? Really? I was Roachbait when we first meet, but then, I wasn’t a pretty mare, either.

“Well, all this jawin’ ain’t gonna get yer train fixed, Ah reckon. Come on, Ah’ll show ya ta Doc Brown’s place,” Sweetshot spoke up, snapping me back to the here and now. The yellow mare started off towards the end of the platform at a slow trot, working her way between the ponies around the train. I started to follow but hesitated; after all, I was leaving half of my friends behind on the train while the rest of us got to walk freely through town.

“This shouldn’t take long, you guys...” I started but Spirit held up a large hoof to stop me.

“We’ll be fine, Shadow. We should check on the injured anyway.” She started to head back into the train when she stopped and added, “Just make sure Wild does not break anything of Stone’s.” The slightest hint of a smile formed over her muzzle before she hurriedly turned and stepped back aboard the train. Carrion arched a brow, clueless as to what was going on between the pegasus and the earth pony, and simply stepped back inside the passenger car.

By the time I managed to catch up with Sweetshot, the law mare was waiting for me on the ground beside the tracks. As I dropped down on the hard packed earth beside her, she nodded once and turned to trot off towards the sheds across the open ground. Or at least mostly open. There were in fact another two sets of tracks running beside the one we’d entered the town on. Looking back towards the gate, I saw they split off from the main line and then rejoined near the western gate.

I suppose Tombstone had been a bit busier in traffic than Crossroads had back before the end. It’d make sense to be able to park other trains to unload or load them and not block the main line. It also explained why there were three sets of tracks leading off towards the large round metal building near the edge of down. The odd looking building had likely been for maintenance and storage for the trains that stayed longer than a day or so in town.

“So yer two friends are an item, Ah take it?” Sweet asked as we walked, trying to start a bit of small talk as our hooves kicked up the loose rock that covered the tracks.

“It seems so. When I first meet them, they couldn’t stand one another and bickered like cats and dogs,” I answered with a grin. “I suppose after what we’ve gone through over the past couple days, even two ponies as different as them could form a bond closer than friendship.”

“Ah reckon so; in fact, Ah know so. My husband and Ah, we’re not exactly a matchin’ pair, if ya catch my drift,” she said with a grin towards me. “He’s a bit of an egghead, Ah suppose. Used ta teach th’ local foals at th’ schoolhouse afore he got himself elected mayor of Tombstone. Thinkin’ ain’t always been my strong point, ya see, and we didn’t rightly see eye ta eye.” I smiled as I listened and she went on.

“If’n anypony woulda told me Ah’d end up with him, Ah’d have laughed in their faces.” She turned back to look ahead, still wearing that bright, happy smile on her face. “But he’s lot braver than Ah thought. Anyway, listen ta me ramblin’ on like an old mare. My point, if Ah even have one, is if’n both ponies are th’ same, Ah think it’d be a right boring relationship.”

Hmm, there was something to that. I nodded my head and stepped over the last set of tracks before the roundhouse. I saw that the three sets of tracks all lead up to three loading doors, large enough to allow a locomotive to enter the building, and judging by the size of the building, it likely could have held three engines inside at once. It appeared to be about two stories in height, judging by the buildings nearby.

As we drew nearer, I could see how badly weathered the roundhouse had become over the years. Orange rust and layers of dirt coated much of the metal surface. But despite it, those walls were as whole as the day they’d been erected. Beyond lay the three rolling doors that allowed trains to be pulled inside and worked on under the cover of the roof. The only other entrance was a normal, pony-sized door just between two of the larger ones. Beside the doors, there were a number of large windows along the top of the building and nearly all had intact glass panels. They were covered in soot and dirt, but still, the fact they had not been blown or shot out was amazing.

Large metal chains hung loosely from the rusted walls of the roundhouse, thick steel links intended to haul heavy loads, such as stranded railway cars or engines back into town. It appeared they’d not been used in a very long time, not surprising seeing as how there were only two working locomotives around. The ground around the building was free of clutter and trash; it was clear somepony had taken the time to pull up any weeds that threatened to crack the already worn concrete foundation.

“Well, here we are. This here’s Doc Brown's place. He’s lived here ever since he arrived in town couple years back from out in th’ wasteland. As Ah said, th’ pony’s an odd one, but he ain’t been nothin’ but kind ta th’ locals since he set up shop. Also ain’t a better pony at fixin’ old world stuff like that there engine o’ yers,” Sweetshot said as we neared the building. The ground had once been paved over but over the years much of it had been covered in a layer of dirt. I glanced to the building and then back to the law mare.

“He another wanderer?” I asked. Spirit’s father had wandered the wasteland, and so had a few other ponies I’d heard of or met thus far, like Stonehoof.

“Near as any of us can figure. He don’t rightly say much bout his past, though he does have a young pegasus that helps ’im out around th’ shop. Most found it rather odd, since we don’t see many of his and yer friend’s kind down here.” She lifted a yellow hoof to the pony-sized door and was just about to open it when a thunderous blast rocked the round metal building from within.

I swore as a shower of glass shards rained down from above us, glass panes blown out from the force of the blast. Thick black smoke immediately rose up from the newly broken windows, drifting quickly away into the grey sky above. Sweetshot yanked hard on the sealed door and more smoke blew out around us. The smoke quickly dissipated and left us choking and waving our forehooves in front of our muzzles. It also made it nearly impossible for us to see what had become of the inside of the shed for several seconds.

It appeared the interior of the roundhouse had not suffered much damage as I’d been expecting, and thankfully it was not engulfed in flames, although it was still a mess of tools, parts, and workstations all scattered about haphazardly. The source of the blast appeared to have come from the far back of the building, where a large black locomotive sat parked upon the tracks. Well, it looked like it had been one, anyway, but there was all sorts of odd bits and pieces sticking off it, as well as a small silver cart parked next to the engine. Both had smoke coming from their engines.

I’d never seen anything quite like it, but then, my view was blocked as a brown unicorn stallion stumbled into my field of vision from the room, coughing smoke from his mouth. He was as tall as me, with the same color mane and tail, though both were covered in soot from the explosion and his mane appeared frazzled (I somehow got the impression that was normal for the stallion). A pair of cracked goggles sat over his eyes, obscuring them from view. He stumbled about in front of us a bit before he opened his mouth to blow out another small puff of smoke. As he came to a halt before us, he slapped himself in the forehead with a hoof, barely missing his horn and went still.

“Great SCOTT... I think I overdid the formula again!” after a moment of standing still, he finally seemed to notice he wasn’t alone and jerked his head back in surprise at somepony being so close. His hoof went down to his face and he yanked off the goggles. The fur under the goggles was soot free, and formed a clean brown ring around his blue grey eyes as he look us both over. They finally settled on Sweetshot, who was still coughing and waving a hoof in front of her nose. The odd stallion blinked and reached out a hoof to steady the mare. “I’m sorry about the noise Sheriff, but I believe I can explain that...”

“It's alright, Doc, that's not why Ah’m here, though ya know ya need ta at least try and keep th’ explosions down a bit. Ya know how th’ townsfolk feel bout that.” The Sheriff cleared her throat and eyed the soot stained pony before her with a slightly narrowed eye. She smiled and shook her head after a moment and waved his offered hoof off.

“Right you are, Sheriff. Now what was it I could help you with?” Brown asked, standing up straight and looking between us. Sweetshot waved a hoof towards me and began.

“Actually, it’s this here pony with me, Doc. This here’s Shadow, a Stable pony. He just brought in a whole load of former prisoners aboard a ol’ train that’s bout to quit on’em,” she explained, as she spoke, Brown turned and regarded me with a raised white eyebrow.

“You see, we’ve been running in reverse for the past two or three days, since there’s been nowhere safe to stop until we reached Tombstone,” I began. “My friend tells me the engine’s about to stop on us, and we need it to reach San Ponsisco through the mountains ahead.”

“Normally locomotives can be run forward or reverse with no ill effects, however these are not normal times we live in. Poor maintenance or no maintenance has taken its toll on the technology of the past. Why I can barely get that thing to start without it blowing a gasket or pipe somewhere.” He waved a soot stained hoof towards the parked engine in the back of his workshop. “I’ll take a look at yours and see what I can do once Marty gets back from the blacksmith's shop with those bolts I asked for.”

“Thank you, we’d like to be on our way as soon as possible. We’re not looking to cause any issue with the local townsfolk.” At that, Brown arched his white brow once more and tilted his head to the side, so I explained about Kanzi and Carrion, to which he snorted.

“Yes, I’ve noticed a few of the ponies of this time seem to have an issue with zebras.” Time? he must have noticed the look for he smiled and waved a hoof at me, “I meant this town. Tombstone, of course.” he cleared his throat and turned both Sweetshot and myself around and ushered us away from the door, still wearing that smile. “Not to worry, I have a few spare parts laying around the shop that I might be able to use to repair the damage. I should also be able to get you facing the correct direction so this won’t happen again. That is, if these switch rails will work.”

He’d lead us back around to the front of the roundhouse and the place where the three tracks leading into each other. The switch rail he was speaking of lay upon the ground with a metal pole sticking up from the side. A rusted round metal sign sitting at the top, it had once been red, but the years had not been kind to it. The rails themselves were also rusted over in places, not having been used in ages.

“The zebras we brought with us may still be aboard the train when you go to take a look at it. I’ll stop by and let them know to expect you,” I said to the odd stallion, he simply nodded before explaining.

“That’s alright, I’m just going to be bringing the engine itself over, not the entire train. They should be fine where they’re at.”

When it seemed the conversation had well and truly ended, I thanked Brown for his time and headed off with Sweetshot back towards the station. By this time, most of the townsfolk had gone on home to dinner, or lost interest in the appearance of a working train in their town. Most of the ponies we’d arrived with had also left for the night, to head off to one of the saloons or to simply take a walk through town.

Sweetshot bid me farewell as we reached the boarding platform, as she had other duties around town to see to. She left me with directions to the Drunken Mare, the saloon Wild and Stone had left to earlier. I could only hope by the time I caught up with the pair they hadn’t already taken up residence in a room upstairs.

As I trotted along the empty platform, I noticed it was not just the station that was empty, but also the train itself. Sticking my head into one of the passenger cars we’d been using, I saw nopony inside. I called out for Spirit or Kanzi, and heard only the sound of the train cars settling on the track. I was about to back out when I spotted a set of orange eyes glowing in the darkness of the car.

“Carrion?”

“How many other ponies ya know with fucking glowing orange eyes?” he hissed out in his rough voice. The rotting face of the ghoul soon’ appeared from the shadows and into the dim glow of the train stations few working lights.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, stepping back as he trotted out onto the platform beside me.

“The local doctor arrived just as you left, and seemed rather dismayed at the state of the passenger car we had the wounded in. He said no injured pony would lay on a filthy floor while in his town.” The ghoul glanced over the deserted streets and buildings near the train station as he spoke. “Griff and his crew helped carry them off to the clinic, and even let the stripes go with them.” When he said ‘stripes’ I noticed a dark look come over the undead ponies face; well, what was left of it.

“Carrion, they’re as much survivors of this hellish wasteland as anypony else, and have suffered mistreatment at the hooves of those raiders.”

“Look, it was zebras that bombed my home, killed tens of thousands of innocent ponies, and caused this hellish wasteland in the first place.” Carrion narrowed his orange orbs on my face as he spoke, teeth clenched tightly. “It may have been a long time ago to you, but to me it could have happened just yesterday, so don’t try and give me any of your bullshit, alright?”

My ears laid back as he yelled in my face, and my tail twitched nervously. I’d known this would likely come up sooner or later for the stallion; he’d spent the last years of his life fighting zebras. I couldn’t really expect him to tolerate them over a couple days, could I? For that matter, what kind of welcome would they get when we reached San Ponsisco? Home to a new government trying to raise Equestria from the ashes of the apocalypse?

“Alright. I think I can understand how you feel somewhat.” I held up a hoof to the ghoul, trying to calm him down.

“Just leave me the hell alone for right now, Shadow.” He turned away with a snort, hooves clattering noisily across the platform.

Going after him would only likely cause more problems, so I simply watched him walk off towards the gate we’d entered the town by. Would the guards on watch let him out or shoot him in the dark? He’d been alive for a very long time, and somehow I didn’t think he’d let himself get killed. He was a tough pony.

And a very lonely one.

The walk through Tombstone was rather relaxing. After the past few days of near-constant fighting, the threat of discovery, and the problems I've encountered since arriving here, it was rather nice to be able to once more walk near other ponies who were not out for my blood, even if a few of them had caused me at least one of those problems. Everywhere I looked I saw ponies walking along the sidewalks, carrying items they had recently bought from shops along the street. Mothers with young foals followed closely behind them, while many stallions stood in groups talking about this or that. The most common topic seemed to be about some local problem with a local gang.

Most of these ponies simply passed me by without a second look, though a few offered greetings, having been near the train station or gate when we’d arrived. I caught sight of Sheriff Sweetshot’s deputies from time to time, walking among the ponies, keeping an eye out for any problem. There seemed to be none to speak of. At last I reached the saloon where I was to meet Stone and Wild. It was rather easy to see, thanks to the large sign hanging off the wall with a picture of a mare laying on her back surrounded by bottles and mugs. Though the paint was faded, she appeared to be a purple earth pony with grapes as a cutie mark and a rather cute blush on her smiling face.

I was briefly reminded of Rose’s place back in Crossroads, The Bit and Saddle Saloon, as I caught sight of the Drunken Mare. While both saloons were built from wood and had been standing in their respective towns since before the war, the Drunken Mare was far larger in size. The four story wooden building dominated the end of the street, sitting right at the corner. The front porch wrapped around the saloon along both streets, the swinging double doors allowing entrance to the building sitting at the corner of those same streets. Loud music and voices drifted out from the door and open windows that lined the first floor.

A small number of locals stood out on the saloons porch, talking and drinking with friends and family. A couple of pretty mares in slinky outfits hung near single stallions, serving them drinks or just playfully nuzzling their necks and cheeks. Parked beside the porch were a number of cars, the owners likely some of those stallions getting led off to private places.

I trotted on up to the steps and quickly entered the saloon, the noise was even louder inside, as was the smell. Having been around Wildfire for the past week I’d become used to cigarette smoke, but this, however, was like being slapped in the snout with a whole burning wagon full of cigarettes and cigars. Not many ponies in the Stable had smoked, seeing how the air was recycled throughout the entire series of rooms, a few however did pick up the bad habit from family and friends.

The other scent that lingered throughout the room was that of food, freshly cooked in the kitchens which I imagined would be behind the bar. It seemed the most likely spot, also, the layout reminded me of Rose’s saloon. Large near wall length bar, rows of shelves with bottles and glasses sitting behind it. Tables of every size and shape covering the majority of the open floor space, along with chairs that matched as well as the ponies sitting in them. Unlike Rose’s saloon, there was no large stage for mares to dance on. There was, however, a near complete band playing everything from pianos to fiddles and guitars. Moving throughout it all was the same pretty-faced, nicely dressed mares that I’d seen outside, balancing trays on their backs and floating them in their magic. They went to and fro severing the ponies at the tables. For a moment I wondered how long it’d take me to find my friends among all this.

“HA! Told ya boys to quit while you're ahead! I keep this up, I’m gonna have me a couple spare bucks for when I wear Stone out!” a loud and familiar voice shouted over the sounds of the saloon.

Right. What WAS I thinking? I turned my head and spotted a fiery, red-maned mare among the sea of hats and dark colored clothing. As ponies moved away, I could see her sitting at one of the card tables near the back of the saloon. Stone was sitting beside the pegasus, his hat setting on the table beside him. It seemed the mare was once more winning at cards, although this time she was winning from a couple other ponies too. None seemed very happy about the fact either as they tossed their hands down atop the table and watched the orange mare scoop the pile of caps up.

I trotted over towards them through the busy saloon and stepped up near the table, looking over the stack of money my friend had made. Stone’s pile was much smaller, and I imagined he’d lost most of it to her. I chuckled and shook my head at the sight.

“I see you're making yourself at home, Wild?” I said as I found myself a chair at the table. Most of the other ponies had walked off in disgust, looking to keep what little caps they had on them to themselves. Only a single pony remained behind, a old white earth pony stallion whose mane and tail were as grey as Stone’s coat. He had a mass of wrinkles and age marks over his frame and it looked like he had one hind leg replaced with a wooden stump. It was hard to really see due to where he was sitting and the poor lighting in the saloon, and I wasn’t about to poke my head under the table for a better look.

“Don’t mind them, they’re just sore losers.” Wild flashed me her trademark grin and winked before lifting up a bottle of alcohol that sat half empty beside her. The label had a pegasus on it, along with the words ‘Wild Pegasus Whiskey’. The mare turned the bottle over and began to refill four empty glasses that’d been left on the table. She missed once or twice, but hurriedly fixed her mistake before she spilled too much of her bottle.

“Wild... how much of this have you had?” I asked as she lifted the fourth glass to me, or at least to my right. She blinked, and her blue eyes looked a bit out of focus as she grinned and sat back in her seat.

“Not nearly enough yet, it seems.” I chuckled and she waved a hoof to the pony sitting at the table. “This here's Pete. He overheard Stone and I talking about going to San Ponsisco via rail and he told us all about what lay ahead.” I turned my turned my attention to the old pony sitting at the table. He, at least, seemed more sober than my friends.

“You must be the young lady's friend she’s told everypony so much about... and rather loudly, I might add.” I thought I heard Stone mutter about her doing everything loudly, but I pretended not to hear, for my sanity if nothing else. “Pleasure to meet a pony who’s not afraid to stand up to those bastards in Kanter City.” Pete held up a hoof and I shook it lightly.

“Oh, he more then just stood up to ’em, he bucked those assholes in the balls and sent ’em straight to hell where they belong,” Wild added, slamming her empty glass back atop the table and reaching for the bottle once more. Pete simply chuckled, clearly used to being around hard drinking ponies.

“I was just telling them the tracks ahead were in good shape a couple months ago when my partner and I made a run to San Ponsisco for some medical supplies. You should have a clear enough shot to the city when you’re ready to go. Just be mindful of the snow; at higher points along the tracks, avalanches have been known to block the tracks in the past, and even before the war it was a risk for trains taking the old route to the west. Only happened once that I can remember recently, blocked off the tracks for nearly a year before it either melted or slid on down the mountain side. Too risky sending ponies up to clear it, all sort of nasty critters making their home in the peaks.”

“It's safe for a train though?” I asked, idly toying with the glass in my hooves, sloshing the liquid about.

“Not much up there large enough to bother a couple-ton locomotive, and even when we used hoof carts to work our way along the tracks, we were far faster than the creatures up there. No, the only risk is attempting it on hoof.”

“That’s very welcome news. I have a train-load of sick ponies who can barely walk across the train car, let alone scale a mountain. I’d not like to chance taking them into a place so dangerous without some means of transporting them.” I started to bring the glass to my lips when I spotted Wild licking up the spilled whiskey from the table. The mare stopped as she realized she was being watched.

“What? It’s really good,” she smirked and dropped back down into her seat, or rather her new seat which seemed to be Stone’s. The mare pressed herself up against the stallion before turning back to me. “So, Shadow, what are you going to do once we reach San Ponsisco?”

“I dunno... I’ve been so focused on finding my missing ponies and getting them to safety I really haven’t thought much of it.” It was true; despite everything that happened and all I’d done I had no idea what I was going to do when I actually reached the city, “I suppose I’ll take up farming like I always talked about with Ebony, raise my niece, and just settle in.”

“Farming? You?” Wild looked genuinely surprised, her red mane falling into her face as she tilted her head to the side to look at me with her stormy blue eyes. “You don’t really seem the type to farm... I mean, I know it's your special talent and all, it’s just... well, I thought that plant on your flank meant something else really.”

“What else could it mean?” I asked, shaking my head and thinking she was just being typical Wildfire. “After everything I’ve seen and done, I have no desire to set hoof back out in the wasteland. Once we reach the safety of the city, all I want is to hang up my security barding and guns and just enjoy some peace and quiet.”

Wild seemed about to say something else when Stone shushed her and quickly nuzzled her neck before she could turn her focus on him for telling her to be quiet. I didn’t imagine that would have ended well. Still, the nuzzle worked and she grinned slyly over at the stallion, before turning back to me.

“So, settling down... hope that means you're going to find yourself a pretty little mare and...” a glass of whiskey was pushed into her mouth by a grey hoof before she could finish that and Pete snorted softly beside me.

“I suppose, if I find myself one,” I answered, the same answer I had always given to my mother, and to my sister. Wild arched her brows and swallowed her drink quickly before pointing a hoof at me.

“Find one? Sweet Celestia and Luna’s plotholes, there’s been more ass shoved in your path this entire trip then I’d ever seen a single stallion get. Why, Rose all but told you to mount her, and I think half the guard mares at Crossroads had wet dreams about you after that whole well stunt you pulled! Shit, pony, I think they’d wait turns outside your room!” As she went on, her voice rose and soon the ponies at the tables around us turned and started staring. I slumped in my seat as a few of the mares looked at me closely. “Hell, I think even Fuse was checking out your flanks. Sweet goddesses above, you likely coulda made her walk again!” She slapped a hoof to her forehead and appeared stunned by the sudden realization.

Where was a pack of quick, radioactive, acid-spitting geckos when you needed them?

“And don’t even get me started on Kanzi, that poor thing’s got the hots for you, Shadow. You should just go find that mare and buck her so hard her stripes fall off!” At last she finally stopped and blinked.

Over half the saloon was staring at both her and myself, mostly mares at me. Wait, were they giggling and pointing? Oh goddesses above not again! After several moments Wild looked from the room to me, leaning in close, a confused and disgusted look on her face as she eyed me up and down, “You're not a unic... are ya?”

“Goddesses damnit ya crazy mare, Ah told ya he ain’t no damn unic.” Oh, thank you, Stone. “When Ah was carrin’ him on my back ta Steeldome Ah told ya more than his shotgun was pokin’ me.” I’m doomed. Doomed! I face planted into the table and waited for my face to explode from all the blood rushing to it. Finally I looked back up and over to Pete.

“How much have they had?” I asked, pointing a hoof at my two friends who had started arguing over whether or not it was just my revolver that had done the poking or if I instead liked riding stallions.

Before the old pony could answer, a mare approached our table with a bottle of sitting upon a tray balanced across her back. She trotted over with a smile on her pretty face and with a skilled roll of her shoulders, let the tray and bottle slide down upon our table.

“That’ll make the fourth bottle they’ve ordered,” the dark pink waitress said with twinkle in her blue eyes, scooping up a small number of caps for the new bottle, shoving them into a money pouch she wore on her toned flanks. Turning, she trotted off the way she’d came with a sway of her hips. I admit, I watched that pink flank sway off for a bit.

Shit... Wild is getting to me. I needed a drink.

Without thinking, I took the glass Wild had poured me earlier and downed it in one gulp. I nearly fell from my seat as I immediately started gasping for breath. It felt I’d just drank liquid fire covered in spikes. Pete just smirked and tilted his head a bit.

“Ya okay there, kid?”

I opened my mouth to answer but could only hack and sputter a response. The old stallion chuckled and lifted his own glass to his muzzle and took a slow sip of the amber colored alcohol inside.

“First time drinking Wild Pegasus, I take it?” Pete asked with a grin, reaching over to lightly tap me on the back with a hoof. Across the table Wild giggled at my display and turned to point it out to Stone. The stallion, however, was sound asleep in his seat. Pouting, Wild slumped back against him.

“Ye - yeah, you co - could say that. Its very... smooth,” I rasped back before finally being able to breathe without feeling like I had fire in my throat.

“Its a bit rough on a first timer. Hmm... judging by that stained jumpsuit of yours you're from one of them Stables. I suppose they didn’t think to stock them with the world's finest whiskey.”

“Can’t imagine why...” I muttered before climbing back into my seat. To my dismay, Pete righted my empty glass and filled it once more from the nearly empty bottle.

“If you're not going to let yourself relax in one way, you need to in another,” the old stallion said, pointing a hoof off towards the pink waitress mare, a smirk on his near toothless muzzle. “I used to look at the pretty mares the same way when I was your age, ‘cept I used to do a lot more than look. Your friend was right, if a bit loud about it. You're holding yourself back for some reason.” It was a statement, not a question.

I pulled the glass over near me and this time carefully sipped the whiskey inside. It still had one hell of a kick going down, but this time it was far more pleasant, warming my belly as it settled in.

“I don’t have time for that sort of thing right now.”

“Why?” Pete asked, sipping his own glass and watching me closely. I arched a brow to the old pony.

“I’ve got to reach San Ponsisco as soon as possible. My niece is there, along with the rest of my Stable. I have to tell them what became of the Overmare, my sister. I have to get these ponies back to their families. Once everypony’s safe, I suppose I’ll have time for that.” At that Pete snorted.

“Kid, there ain’t anyplace a pony can be completely safe in this world. It's an admirable thing your doing, looking out for your friends and family, saving strangers from raiders. But if you don’t find someway to relax, you’re going to burn yourself out.”

“I’ll find time once I’m settled in San Ponsisco,” I responded, hoping he’d drop the subject. I took another drink from my glass, a bit longer this time.

“Well, I already found time, and it's now,” Wild said, looking Pete and myself over before turning her head back to Stone behind her. The pegasus pushed her muzzle right against Stones and laid her ears back, blue eyes fixed on the stallions green. “Right. Now.”

I’m not really sure what happened next. One minute Wild and Stone were sitting on a chair in front of me, with an unopened bottle of Wild Pegasus sitting before them and a large pile of caps. The next thing I know, Wild was across Stone’s back like a pair of saddlebags with the bottle of whiskey in her mouth, the caps in her hooves and the stallions hat over her flank.

“If’n ya’ll will excuse us, Ah have somethin’ ta see ta.” With that, the earth pony turned and trotted for the stairs, Wild giggling and wiggling her hind hooves like a foal the entire time.

“More whiskey?” Pete asked.

“Yes please....”

I awoke to what was becoming an all too familiar sound: gunfire. Part of me wanted to believe it was nothing more than a few ponies firing off their weapons in the air for the hell of it. I’d seen a few doing that last night while getting shit faced drunk, although luckily I’d managed to refrain from wasting ammo as they had. Unluckily I’d gotten just as drunk as they had. Ugh... I’d been punched in my head by a couple different ponies and it still felt better than this! I rolled back over in the soft warm bed and attempted to go back to sleep, but then I caught the sound of ponies yelling outside my room’s door. Panicked, frightened yelling. Still, this town had a Sheriff. Let them handle it. Another yell, this one sounding directly below my window was followed by guns firing.

Was it too much to ask for more than a few days rest before everything went to shit?

Dragging myself out of bed, I hurriedly reached for my armor and weapons that were laying beside me on a chair. I’d gotten rather quick at buckling the heavy riot armor plating back in place across my battered body, and strapping the revolver to my left foreleg. I gripped the neck strap of my shotgun from the back of the chair with my teeth. The comforting weight of Luna’s Ruse slid over my head and rested against my chest. My saddlebags were swiftly slipped over my back and tightened so as not to slip off. I’d just opened my door, ready to go see what the hell was going on, when a panicked mare came flying towards me in the hallway, screaming her head off.

Time to punch in for work, it seems...

I grabbed a hold of the frightened pony and yanked her into my room, just as a bullet struck the doorframe where my head had been moments before. Splinters of wood spun off into the near empty hallway as the mare dropped to the floor of my room. The source of her distress was soon clear, as a grimy looking stallion with a smoking pistol came galloping down the hallway after her.

He skidded to a halt across the saloon’s wooden floor and looked a little surprised to see me. His wide brown eyes went to the metal star pinned to my chest armor and his surprise turned to panic. He jerked his head back and muttered around the pistol grip in his mouth.

“A lawpony? Ain’t supposed ta be any of ya in town not at th’ Sheriff’s Office!”

My E.F.S. painted him as red and I clicked the safety of Luna’s Ruse with a hoof as I eyed the pony standing several steps away from my bedroom door. Oddly, he did not look like a raider. His eyes were normal, with no trace of the sickly yellowed eyes: just normal white, his iris a deep brown color. He had no excessive scarring across his light yellow coat, just the normal everyday sort of cuts and bruises a pony might get from working around a small town. There was no spiked armor with body parts and blood over his small frame. In fact, he wore no armor at all, just normal looking work clothing. In fact, he looked like one of the residents of Tombstone, if a bit more dirty and unsavory looking.

“Why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk about this like reasonable ponies,” I said, trying to be civil to the stranger and hoping he’d see reason. I’d rather not have to kill him if I didn’t have too; after all, I still had no idea what was going on beyond my room.

He grinned and I saw his jaw closing around the handle of the gun, so I quickly ducked back into the room and slammed the door shut with a hind hoof just as he opened fire. Bullets ripped through the thin wooden planks of the old door and impacted the far wall. Luckily I’d ducked as well and lay over the mare as the stallion emptied his weapon just over our heads.

Or we can just solve this problem the wasteland way...

Whispering for the mare to crawl over behind the bed, I rose swiftly and bucked the door open with a hard kick of my hind legs. The luckless pony had trotted up to it to check and see if his wild firing had managed to kill me. I heard the door impact his face as it burst from its frame into the hallway and him swearing colorfully about my mother’s reproductive organs as both he and the door toppled to the worn floor of the saloon. My golden eyes narrowed on the rattling door and the stallion attempting to push it off himself.

Definitely solving this the wasteland way...

My ears laid back as Luna’s Ruse roared to life, solid slugs ripping through the flimsy wooden door and into the unarmored pony under it. He got off a single scream of pain before the second round found his heart and turned it to paste. Blood pooled around the wooden debris and I trotted over it into the hallway, ignoring the meaty sounds coming from under it. I could hear the sound of more fighting downstairs and in the streets outside. Turning, I looked to the mare and pointed a bloody hoof at her.

“Stay here.” I then jumped from the stallion’s makeshift coffin lid and raced towards the stairs at the end of the hall, yelling out for my friends who slept in one of the dozen or so rooms I passed. “Wild! Stone! Trouble! Get your flanks outta bed and grab your guns!” I didn’t stop to see if they heard me, instead charging down the steps and into the saloon.

The last gunshot echoed up from the saloon just as I reached the bottom steps. A quick scan of the room seemed to point to a lack of enemies within it, at least living ones. Three ponies lay in a heap near the swinging doors of the saloons entrance, or what used to be. The doors themselves had been ripped from their hinges and lay near the dead bodies, along with their dropped weapons. A noise from my right drew my attention and I quickly brought my shotgun to bare on a green unicorn sheltering three mares behind an overturned table. It was Balefire, and he was pointing his twin revolvers up towards me. Seeing me, his red eyes widened and he relaxed at once.

“Shit, am I glad to see a friendly fucking face.”

“Balefire, what the hell is going on?” I asked, lowering my own weapon and trotting over to the buck and the three mares who were beginning to stand up beside him.

“Fuck if I know, we’d just come down from my room upstairs when those assholes barged in and started shooting the place up. Luckily I never go anywhere without the Princesses,” he said, twirling his revolvers in his magical grip and holstering them at his sides. “They’re not raiders. Could be slavers though,” the stallion continued as he helped a bright orange earth pony to her hooves with a smile. She giggled softly and nuzzled his neck before stepping aside.

I eyed the four and arched a brow. Wait. He had three mares in his room last night? How was this pony walking?! I shook my head and pushed it aside for the time being. There were more important things to worry about at the moment.

“Now, you three head back to my room and lock the door, I’m gonna go with Shadow here and see what all the fuss is about.”

“Aww, don’t go, can’t ya stay here with us?” a purple unicorn asked with a pout to Balefire, swaying her hips a bit.

“I’ll be back soon, and we can finish our little game then.” He gave each mare a kiss on the cheek before turning back to me, grinning.

“Right... well, let’s go.” I turned and trotted quickly to the open doors of the saloon and the sounds of gunfire going on out in the streets. Stepping out onto the porch I saw there were three sources for the noise, all of them in the center of town, and all near the saloons.

The first was the Sheriff's Office, which I hadn’t seen last night since I’d come from a different direction to reach the Drunken Mare. It was a three story brick and wood buildings sitting between two stores on Main Street. A old worn sign hung above the doorway with a faded yellow star across it and the words Sheriff. Most of the windows had been shot out it seems, and there were two bodies lying near the steps; whether they were deputies or attackers, I couldn’t tell. Beyond the building, a cart had been turned over to allow the attackers some cover from the hail of lead raining down from the second floor of the defenders.

The second source of fighting was some ways down the street, and I could just barely make anything out from where I stood. However, I could see the large yellow sign above the door with three pink butterflies on it. It was likely the Clinic where Spirit, Kanzi, and her family were staying. A couple ponies stood outside, shooting into the windows, but somepony inside was returning fire. As I watched, two brown forms darted from the roof and raked the attackers with gunfire. Griff and Razor, it seemed, had stayed with the wounded. The sudden attack caught the attackers by surprise and they were forced away from their cover and took several rounds by whoever was inside.

The final fight was happening much closer to me, a large mostly brick building that appeared to be quite old. It also stood out from the other buildings nearby by its design. Stone pillars lined the front of the building, giving it a old world feel, with large, once-fancy glass windows sitting between them. Princess Celestia and Luna appeared above the door in a carved image of the two heavenly goddesses. A well maintained sign hanging above them read ‘Tombstone Bank.’

Here, it seemed, the attackers were inside, and a lone defender lay outside in the street, taking shelter beside a wagon wheel as he attempted to reload his pistol. I could see a silver star pinned to the unicorn's blood-stained vest, as well as a pair of bandits flanking the pony from around the wagon.

While I’d normally rush off towards the aid of my friends, it seemed Griff and Razor had things taken care of for the moment. That wounded pony however looked to need some help, and I thought I’d heard somepony inside the bank yelling for help. Had the attackers taken some of the locals hostage? For that matter, who the hell was attacking?!

“Come on!” I called back to Balefire, and jumped from the saloon’s porch and onto the dirt road. I galloped hard down the street towards the wounded lawpony and the Bank, and behind me I heard Balefire’s hooves pounding after me. It didn’t take long, and within minutes we found ourselves taking fire from the windows of the stone building. Bullets whizzed past us as we slid into the cover of the wagon.

At that same moment, the two bandits rounded the other side of the wagon and were drawing a bead on the wounded law pony. One spotted us and only had time to blink in surprise before I fired Luna’s Ruse into his chest. The unarmored pony jerked back and dropped his pistol on the ground beside the rear wagon wheel. The second shot struck him in the side of the face and ended his part in the fight and the world completely.

Balefire slid along the street with his twin revolvers blazing, rounds striking the second bandit all across his frame as well as the wagon and ground beneath his hooves. As the hammers dropped on empty chambers, the pony dropped over dead from a number of gunshots to his body.

“What in tarnation?!” the tan colored stallion blinked in surprise as we dropped down beside him, rounds impacting the wooden wagon, sending out chunks of wood in every direction that sent him scrunching further down behind the wheel and knocking his hat off his dirty blonde mane.

“We’re here to help,” I said hurriedly, before he could bring his pistol to bear on us. The glowing weapon slowly lowered and the stallion’s light green eyes dropped to the star on my chest.

“Yer that pony on th’ train last night?” I nodded my head and he let out a breath before wincing in pain. “Thank th’ sisters, Ah thought ya was a couple of th’ Blackhoofs.”

“Blackhoofs?” I asked as I reached back to my saddlebags. I’d heard some of the townsfolk talk about them last night in the saloon; they sounded like some sort of gang. As I nosed through the supplies I had in the pack, I found what I was looking for, a glass bottle with a red liquid inside it.

“A local gang, mostly drunkards and braggarts. Just a minor annoyance at most, and we never had much trouble from ’em before,” the law pony said as he reloaded his weapon. Beside him, Balefire rose up and snapped off a couple of quick shots towards the bank.

“The Sheriff allows them in town?” I wrapped my lips around the top of the bottle and withdrew it from the bag. Setting it down beside the law pony, I gripped the cork in my teeth and yanked it free with a pop. The bottle began to glow blue as the wounded stallion lifted it from the ground and to his mouth. He drank it quickly and lay back against the wheel.

“Nah, th’ Sheriff’s a smart mare, she don’t let ’em in willingly. They musta snuck in last night while we was all payin’ attention ta yer arrival. After all, not everyday a train pulls up ta th’ gate,” he said after a moment of silence. Balefire reloaded his revolvers from his saddlebags and looked over the edge of the wagon, keeping an eye on the bank. My opinion of the loud-mouthed unicorn was going up.

“What are they after and where’s Sheriff Sweetshot?” I reached for Luna’s Ruse, which had fallen back against my chest and topped it off for the coming fight.

“We got a message this mornin’ that one of th’ outlayin’ families were under attack from raiders. Th’ Sheriff and most of th’ other deputies rode outa town ta their aid. Ah’m thinkin’ it was a setup ta get most of us outta th’ way.”

A couple shots from behind us drew our attention, and we looked back to see another of the attackers laying dead in the street near the Sheriff’s office, his head missing from a high caliber round. The law pony beside us chuckled.

“Thatta girl, Blaze, show them bastards how a real pony shoots.” He coughed and groaned a bit before answering the rest of my question. “As for what their after, Ah’m thinkin’ its in th’ building behind us.”

“Wait... this is all over money?” I asked in shock, and the unicorn nodded back. I couldn’t believe it. Of all the things...

“Ain’t just money we keep in th’ bank. We also use it ta store th’ town’s ammo and weapons, as well as th’ spare food we put back for hard times. It’s all kept in th’ vault at th’ back of th’ building. We’ve had some idea they mighta been thinkin’ of robbin’ th’ bank for awhile, which is one reason th’ Sheriff won’t let ’em in town, or, if she does, they’re only allowed in a couple at a time.”

The world wasn’t fucked up enough, that ponies were stealing from others? I gritted my teeth and shook my head. Raiders, monsters, a hellish wasteland, and now gangs out to rob a town of its supplies and money? Hell, it likely wasn’t even money but damned caps.

The hell if I was gonna let this happen.

“Balefire, you ready to stop some bank robbers?”

The green unicorn arched a brow towards me as he reloaded his revolvers. He glanced over the edge of the wagon and hurriedly ducked back down behind cover as a rain of lead struck the top of the wooden backboard. Red eyes turned to me and he flashed me a wide wild grin that Wildfire would have likely been proud of.

“After last night, I think I’ll be able to take these assholes on with one hoof tied behind the other. Just let me know when ya want those bastards dead.”

“Ah’ll give ya two cover. Just try and watch what ya shot in there, since th’ bank’s owner and his secretary are likely trapped inside,” the wounded pony said, his pistol floating back up beside him and ready to fire. “Also, give ’em a couple for me, would ya?”

Nodding, I reached for the firing bit to Luna’s Ruse and edged closer to the front of the wagon, a few stray rounds impacting the ground near my hooves as they tried hitting us under the bottom of the wagon. Luckily, they seemed no better shots than the raiders had been. I waited until it seemed the majority of the bandits were reloading before I yelled out.

“NOW!”

I rushed out from behind the wagon, snapping off two rapid shots towards the banks broken windows and saw a couple bandits ducking back behind the stone wall. Behind me, Balefire rounded the rear of the wagon and began firing off rounds towards the second floor, his revolvers spitting smoke, fire, and lead as he rushed towards the bank. Not to be outdone by two strangers, the law pony rose up and fired off a couple shots towards the window just above the door, one of the rounds striking an earth pony who had just popped up and was preparing to fire down upon the unsuspecting Balefire. The buck’s eyes went wide as he held his chest before toppling through the glassless window and down into the street below.

We rushed towards the double doors, hooves kicking up a small cloud of dust from the dry street. As we drew closer, I saw the door glow a dull blue before it was yanked forcibly open once. A unicorn stepped into the doorway and leveled a old worn combat shotgun towards me in that same glow, a grin on his muzzle. That grin died within seconds, as I’d already pulled the trigger on Lunas Ruse and sent a single round punching into his chest. His shotgun went off, sending a round into the ground before his hooves and kicking up a spray of dust and dirt. The unicorn toppled to the steps of the bank, very much dead.

Balefire was right behind me as I took the steps of the bank two at a time and charged inside, my hooves clattered across the stone flooring. The room I found myself in took up much of the first floor, a large wide very open space. At the back was a line of windows with bars across them, where tellers would have given out money back in the bank’s hayday. Along the walls were old photos and signs from the war, along with a number of more fresh-looking bullet holes. A couple of small tables and chairs lay across the floor where they’d been tossed and I could just see the vault door behind the teller’s wall, open, with ponies moving in and out of it hurriedly.

My E.F.S. came alive with red dots. No doubt some were above us, but just as many lay in the room with us, armed and all looking towards Balefire and myself. I have no idea why I said it; maybe I was just caught up in the moment, maybe it was the whole idea of what was happening, or maybe it was just the Wild Pegasus Wildfire had slipped me last night.

“Drop the guns and nopony has to get hurt! You're all under arrest!”

For a moment there was silence as the robbers stared at us in surprise, and one even dropped his guns. Balefire glanced to me out of the corner of his eyes, his revolvers pointed towards a couple ponies to my left.

“What’re ya lazy bastards doin’?! Shoot that fucker!!!” a large black stallion shouted from behind the teller's window, pointing a hoof right at me. The odd silence was broken as a dozen or more weapons clicked and began to fire. Luckily, three of them were our own.

Balefire dodged to the left as three rounds tore into the space he’d been standing in a moment before. His own guns fired, returning the favor to two stallions standing nearby as they attempted to work the lever of their rifles. One dropped with a hole in his side and the other staggered against the wall as his leg was grazed.

I took off running to the right, snapping off rounds at any target I could see. I felt several rounds whiz past my flanks and neck as the robbers attempted to track me, but few seemed able to adjust for my sudden movement, and fewer still seemed to know to duck when being shot at. Two ponies dropped to the stone floor of the bank, solid slugs ending their days in the wasteland forever. As I ran, I could see ponies in the back carrying boxes towards a hallway leading further back into the bank. One problem at a time.

My hooves skidded hard across the well-polished floor tiles and I nearly dropped my weapon as I crashed into the wall with a dull thud. A round blew chunks of plaster across my face as it narrowly missed hitting my head. I slipped into S.A.T.S. to give myself a moment to see where all the enemies were located and just how many we’d come upon.

I counted no less than two dozen red dots surrounding Balefire and myself. Of those, I could only see eight, and one was laying on the floor bleeding out from a wound to his chest. A single yellow dot indicated that the pony who’d thrown down his weapons when I’d yelled out had not rejoined the fight. Not the smartest move, but it seems one pony had listened. There were also a group of three green dots, one to my left, indicating Balefire’s position. The other two seemed to be at the back of the bank, along with a number of the red dots I could not see. All in all, not too terribly bad odds for us. Now if only Wild and Stone were here I’d feel a bit better.

As for the vault, from where I stood frozen on the floor, I could just make out the open door and toppled crates and boxes inside. I could also see the large black stallion who’d yelled out earlier. He stood just a bit taller than myself, wearing an old and very beat up looking cowpony hat. He wore a large, heavy-looking trench coat over his front, and from the bulges it appeared he actually had on some armor under that. A large hunting rifle was swung across his back, putting both Stone’s and Wild’s rifles to shame. His mane and tail were a rust-colored orange, and I couldn’t see his cutie mark due to the wall between us. His focus was on the vault now, not us, so for the time being he wasn’t my problem. At least not yet.

I hurriedly locked onto the nearest threat, a reddish brown earth pony holding a slightly-better-than-raider level rifle by the mouth grip. It looked as if he was lining up a shot on Balefire. I doubted the unicorn even knew he was being targeted, as he was in the middle of a very flashy looking leap across a table, revolvers blazing away at a pair of ponies trying to draw a bead on the crazy buck.

Releasing the targeting spell, time returned to normal, and Luna’s Ruse bucked as a single round flew from the barrel towards my target. It was then I released just how powerful my new shotgun was, and why solid shot was perhaps not the best load out for unarmored targets. The solid round slammed full force into the stallions chest and took him completely off his hooves as it passed through flesh, muscle, bone and out again. A spray of blood splattered the wall near where he’d been standing as the round exited and blew a hole in the wall.

The bandit toppled over, spilling blood from the hole the round had left in his body, but missing anything vital. Still, I doubted he’d be much of a threat for the time being. Now his friends, however...

I ducked into the cover of a old worn couch sitting near the wall and heard several rounds strike the floor and wall where I’d been, as well as a few pass completely through the cushions of the couch. Not the best cover. After another few rounds struck near my hooves, I rolled back out into the open and onto my hooves. Two ponies were rushing the couch with pistols blazing away. I returned fire as I brought my shotgun to bear on the bandit to my right, who was closer.

My skill with the shotgun had improved since leaving Stable 45, and I did not even bother to activate S.A.T.S. this time, instead firing with my own skill and desire to live. Luna’s Ruse once more roared to life and two shells exploded from her muzzle, leaving trails of distorted air as they traveled the short distance to their targets.

Both rounds picked the pony up off his hooves and sent him crashing to the floor before impacting the teller’s wall at the rear of the bank and shattering the glass windows in a shower of glittering pieces. The earth pony did not rise, as I’d aimed for his upper chest and the vital organs within. One of the rounds had found their mark, and he lay dead on the stone floor.

The second charging bandit went wide eyed at the death of his fellow and lost his nerve, turning to take cover behind a broken wooden table. Mistake. I twisted my head and fired off two more rounds towards where the pony had dropped. The first blew off a chunk of the already abused table and left a hole in the floor tiles just beyond. The second struck the stallion in the side and knocked him back several inches from the table.

Behind me, I heard Balefire’s revolvers firing rapidly as he unloaded them, and I quickly glanced over to see how he was faring. The unicorns revolvers spat fire and lead as he danced around the bandits, the ponies’ bodies jerking like puppets as hot rounds struck them, sending out buffs of bloody mist. The fact that he’d need to hit something vital to kill with a single shot with the small caliber rounds he was using seemed not to worry the green stallion. He made up for it by simply hitting a target enough to cause them to bleed to death.

We’d already dropped the immediate threats to fifty percent and it seemed the remaining were losing their nerve for the fight. I looked back towards the rear of the bank and no longer spotted any ponies moving behind the windows of the tellers wall, nor the large stallion who seemed to be in charge. Not good.

“Balefire, I’m going after the rest, you be okay?” I yelled over to my companion, who was busy reloading both revolvers at once, an act that required a skilled horn. In response, the stallion snapped the guns back up and fired point blank into a shotgun wielding earth pony who’d been sneaking up on his left.

“Go! These guys aren’t even trying to kill me!” he laughed as he kicked the fallen earth pony in the face, knocking his shotgun away along with several of his teeth.

With a snort, I turned and galloped towards the rear of the bank and the teller's window. There was a door just to the right that would lead me into the back, which was closed and likely locked. Not to worry. I had the key, after all.

The door shook as a solid round ripped into the space the doorknob and lock had been. Wood splintered as I slammed into the door soon after and sent it flying open on its abused hinges. A quick scan with both my eyes and E.F.S. told me what I’d already expected: the space was empty of threats, but there were also two unarmed ponies cowering under the counter of the teller’s booths; a mare and a stallion, likely the owners of the bank. I didn’t bother getting a good look at them, as I was in a bit of a hurry.

“Stay down until this is over!” I yelled back to them as I started towards another door in the room, this one leading out into a hallway and further back into the bank. I could hear loud voices ahead, along the sound of gunfire, so there were either more ponies inside fighting or there was another way out of the bank. I raced down the hallway, red dots appearing on my E.F.S. as I passed offices and other rooms within the bank. Turning the corner, I found a still-open steel door and a loading dock at the rear of the building.

Stepping outside, I scanned for the threats I’d seen and discovered them moving rapidly away from me. I also heard the sound of thundering hooves and a creaking wood. Looking around rapidly, I spotted the source of the noise and the retreating threats. A stagecoach was racing away from the bank, a number of ponies clinging to the sides and a team of four pulling it down the street towards the distant southern gate.

Jumping from the loading dock, I took off at once after the bandits, intent on not letting them escape with the town’s supplies and money. As I did, I spotted townsfolk poking their heads out to see what was going on, and if it was over. I also spotted my two missing friends at the rear of the Drunken Mare fighting a couple of stragglers attempting to escape the town. Stone stood atop a balcony firing down on the bandits with his rifle, his deadly aim making it a extremely one sided fight. Wild was flipping through the air, strafing targets below her, red mane and tail waving in the warm morning air and eyes narrowed. She looked pissed. Even over the noise of the stagecoach, the gunfire and, shouting I could hear my friend.

“Do you assholes know you're interrupting me getting more Celestia-damned action than I’ve had in the last couple years?! Do you?!” Hell has no fury like a mare kept from release.

I turned away from the display as a row of tall buildings blocked the saloon and my friends from sight and focused on the speeding stagecoach ahead of me. We’d covered the distance from the bank to the gate in startling short order. I saw a two of the bandits turning away from the wide open gates and start running away from the town, so it seemed they’d either gotten in here or had taken control of it to start with. These guys seemed to have thought this through rather well.

The stagecoach roared through the wide open passage, leaving a trail of dust behind them for me to choke on. I snorted and did not let up, hooves kicking up my own cloud of dust as I passed through and into the open wasteland beyond Tombstone. It seemed the bandits had taken notice of somepony following them, as one yelled out and pointed a hoof towards me. I narrowed my eyes and willed my legs to move faster.

The stagecoach turned sharply and sped along a old highway, half covered in dirt and sand. Old rusted road signs zipping past as I ran behind it, slowly gaining on it and the bandits.

As the cloud of dust slacked from the stagecoaches wake, my eyes widened at the sight of a massive rifle pointing straight at me. The black trenchcoat-wearing stallion I’d seen in the bank had me dead to rights in his sights, a cold grin on his lips. The barrel of the weapon burst into flames and smoke as it fired and I hurriedly threw myself to the left in a effort to dodge the shot.

Two things saved my life, both a direct result of the landscape and the effects it has on the ponymade objects within it. First, the highway, like every other road I’d traveled across since beginning my journey, was a mass of cracks, potholes, and even burst pavement from the heat. The stagecoaches speeding wheels struck one of these or all and jerked the rifle in the stallions grip, off setting his aim just as he fired what would have been a killing shot.

The second was the rusted and worn road signs that lined the highways of Equestria. Ironically enough, it had been a speed sign, but it had been bent over by something large rolling across it, or just by the force of the wind. Either way, it lay directly in my path and I’d completely missed it. As I moved to dodge aside, my front legs struck the metal post, which sent me spiraling into the pavement in a mess of flailing hooves, tail, and weapons, face-first into a sizeable piece of shattered pavement and into unconsciousness.

Welcome to Level 12!

Perk Added: Leadbelly: With this perk, you take 50% less radiation every time you drink from an irradiated water source or eat irradiated food. Lets be honest, those snack cakes you found in the cupboard of that 200 year old house weren’t just stale, they were also glowing! Oh, and you can handle strong alcohols like Wild Pegasus a bit better now.

Lightweight...

Author's Notes:

Editor and Chief: TheGamefilmGuruman

Editor: Avi

Pre- Reader: MagicLlama

Pre- Reader: Bronyken

Original Cover Art: TimeForSP

Current Cover Art: MisterMech Go. Worship his work.