Oddwick was little more than a ghost town, the darkened streets near silent save for the creak of the nearby wooden buildings settling after the day’s heat and the slight sound of wind rustling through the broken windows. What few rusted street lamps still stood had long ago stopped working from either neglect or damage. If not for the steady glow of over a dozen green dots on my E.F.S., I’d have said the town was deserted. A door shut nearby as the wind picked up, causing Balefire and myself to come to a halt in the alleyway we’d ducked into.

I scanned the dark, dirt-covered street ahead of me. Thus far the red blips I’d detected earlier had not left the building they’d been gathered inside. Minutes before, as we’d crossed a street that lead down towards the cluster of hostile bandits, snippets of laughter and music came drifting down towards us from a large, three story structure, formerly a saloon judging by the sign that'd been hanging over the doorway. The patrolling lookouts had yet to spot either us or Stone, Wild, and Carrion, who’d moved off to check on another group of possible friendlies. Our lucky was holding out, but I knew we’d only be able to rely on that for so long.

Looking over my shoulder, I barely saw the dark green form of Balefire standing against the wall of the alley, his coloration mixing in well with the shadows. His revolvers were holstered, lest the glow of his horn give away our position to the ponies keeping watch on the roofs in the center of town. Balefire looked back down the alley behind us before turning back to me and nodding his head. He was ready to press on, and I was ready to get this over with. Looking back out into the street, I checked my E.F.S. once more and saw that beyond us, everypony else was where they had been moments before.

Stepping back out into the street, we made our way silently towards our destination, the Oddwick Post Office, a small single story building halfway down the street; luckily, our side of the street. Like many of the buildings we passed thus far, the Post Office was in various states of decay. It appeared that the bandits had done little to repair the town’s crumbling structures since setting up shop here. I suppose that made sense, since it seemed their ultimate goal was to leave Equestria far behind and move on to greener pastures (if such places even still existed within the world).

A faint orange glow flickered through the shuttered and boarded up windows of the Post Office, the air carrying the faint scent of wood smoke to our noses as we approached the building cautiously. The sidewalk that had once run along the row of buildings had long since rotted away, leaving bits of wood sticking up from the dirt and sand that had filled in the holes over time.

I crept over the rotting chunks of wood and to one of the boarded windows to try and get a look inside. The little cluster of eight green dots had not moved from their original positions, so the ponies inside were resting or asleep. Either way, it seemed there was nopony keeping watch. One thing, however, had changed: the number of dots. Where at first there had been eight, now there were more, at least a dozen. They seemed huddled closely to one another, throwing my E.F.S. off. Still, it didn’t change anything. They were still green, and there was no point in turning back now.

Edging closer to the window, I peered between the old wooden planks and through the grime-encrusted window. Though visibility was poor, it was enough for me to make out over a dozen pony-shaped bodies sitting or laying within the building’s main room. The orange glow came from three small fires, burning low inside rusted-out steel drums that were scattered about between the huddled bodies. I could just make out two doorways behind a counter and a number of tables and boxes shoved along the walls. It was impossible for me to tell if anypony inside was armed, with the thick grime on the window giving everything beyond a hazy look.

Still, it was the wasteland; if a pony wasn’t armed, they were as good as dead, so I suspected at least one or two of the ponies inside would be armed. Stepping back from the window, I nodded once towards Balefire. Without saying a word, the unicorn took up a position across from me near the doorway, ready in case anypony inside started shooting.

I reached for the doorknob with a hoof. Not surprisingly, it was unlocked. I pushed it open, and the door gave out a soft groan of age and rusted hinges as it swung back slowly. I stepped inside the doorway, the heavy tread of my hoofsteps almost seeming to echo within the room beyond as several pairs of brightly colored eyes turned to stare at me.

At first it seemed they thought I was simply one of them, perhaps from the other gathering or from the saloon. I suppose nopony expected to get many visitors this far south from Tombstone, or any other settlement for that matter. The flight here had pointed out just how isolated Oddwick was from the rest of Equestria, and it had likely been so even before the bombs fell.

I used the few moments I had before they realized I wasn’t a member of their merry little band of outlaws to look over the ponies gathered inside the room. Unsurprisingly, the majority were mares with foals huddled closely to their hooves as they slept off their evening meal. Cans of food and bottles of water lay where they’d been left. Were they spoils from Tombstone or their own meager supplies? I noticed a couple of the mares wore pistols strapped to their side, small caliber weapons that would be hard pressed to kill a Radroach, let alone a pony. I suspected that was intentional, if what I’d begun to understand about the Blackhoof gang was true.

Behind the huddled mares and foals were several battered-looking stallions. The ponies had bandages on hooves, heads, flanks and chests, some stained red with fresh blood, others still white and clean. All looked tired and covered in dust, no doubt from the long journey back from Tombstone. Like the mares, most appeared sleeping, and only one seemed to look over at us, a young stallion no older than Balefire. The pony stood out for one reason, however; unlike the others, he did not seem to be injured. Perhaps he had not been with the attackers? I wouldn’t have time to dwell on it very long, as movement from my right drew my eyes away from the young pony.

From the group of mares, one stood up and made her way towards us, a short unicorn with a dark blue coat and purple mane. I could not see her cutie mark, as it was too crowded in the room for me to see much more then her chest and head as she worked her way between the sleeping bodies. I did see a holstered revolver on her right foreleg, however. It looked far beefier than any of the other side arms I’d seen the others carry. Her light green eyes narrowed as she drew nearer.

“What do ya’ll want now? Can’t ya see th’ poor thin’s are restin’ after goin’ out on your little suicide mission? Just turn yerselves back round and go tell Blackhoof he’ll have ta send a couple of you goons off on whatever pointless task he wants done,” she said as she stopped before me, ears laying flat to her head. She thought we were members of the gang and clearly she did not think very highly of them.

“Ma’am, we’re not here to take anypony back with us...” I began, but did not get a chance to finish as she snorted and pushed a blue hoof into my armored chest pushing me back a step or two. As she spoke, she repeated this with every other word she said, driving me back from the huddle of mares and wounded stallions.

“Yer damn right yer not here ta take anypony with ya. Ye’ve done enough damage ta them as is. So why don’t ya... just turn ...” She blinked as her hoof brushed across the metal star pinned to my chest. Slowly, she lowered her hoof and allowed it to drop back onto the worn floorboards of the room, her green eyes dropping to my chest and that metal symbol I had pinned there. She then began to look more closely at me, my armor, and my weapons. Her eyes darted from me to the smirking green unicorn who stood beside me; Balefire clearly thought it was funny as hell I’d been pushed around by a mare whose horn barely reached eye level with me.

“Yer not Blackhoofs...” she finally said, taking a step back and tilting her head a bit to the side as she shifted her gaze from Balefire and back to me. She had said it more as a statement than a question, but I answered it anyway, giving her what I hoped would be seen as a calming smile.

“No, we’re not with them. We’re here to find out what's been going on and to recover the supplies stolen from Tombstone’s bank.” I had made sure to say ‘them’, instead of ‘you’. If what the captured ponies in Tombstone’s jailcell had said were true (and thus far I’d seen little evidence to the contrary), than the majority of the ponies in this town were simple farmers who’d been lied too, with a few like him who might have begun to doubt their heroes, and indeed ,judging by this mare’s attitude, that was seeming more and more likely.

“Yer not th’ Sheriff... nor do ya look or sound like a pony from Tombstone or th’ surrounding settlements... ya’ll a couple mercs?” she asked, stepping between us and the sleeping foals and mares behind her. As she did, I caught sight of her cutie mark, a single red apple, not an odd thing for a pony whose town was supposed to grow food for Tombstone.

“No, ma’am. We were simply passing through town when it was attacked by bandits, and we volunteered to go looking for their missing supplies afterwards since it seemed they would be needing them come winter,” I said, before pointing a hoof at myself slowly. “My name’s Shadow and this here is Balefire.” The green unicorn behind me nodded his black-maned head to the mare.

“Willow,” the mare said, a hoof pressed against her own chest. She continued to stare at us oddly. “If’n yer not mercs then who are ya? Ain’t no pony helped another just because. It’s a fact we’ve learned th’ hard way.”

“I know a little about that, Willow,” I began, looking behind her at the huddled ponies trying to get some rest in the cramped Post Office lobby. The uninjured stallion had stood up and was slowly walking over to stand beside the mare, who looked over her shoulder at him. As I began to speak again she turned back to focus on me. “I’m originally from a Stable, and I’m quickly learning that not many, if any, ponies do anything for others out here unless it can earn them some caps. It sounds like the settlements around here have been taken advantage of by a group of thugs only looking out for themselves.”

“Sounds like ya know more than most around these parts, Shadow... how is that?” she asked, clearly not ready to trust me yet. I couldn’t blame her. The pony beside her narrowed his eyes a bit on us. He had an assault rifle hanging from around his neck. The old battered weapon looked held together with strips of cloth and tape, the barrel and stock a bit rusty from ill maintenance. Up close, I saw he was a rusty red color, with an orange mane and tail, and his cutie mark was of the weapon he had against his chest, along with a knife, criss-crossed over one another. His purple eyes looked from me to Balefire as I answered Willow’s question.

“A pony I met by the name of Runner told me a little about what was going on out here.” To my surprise, the moment I mentioned the name she gasped and all thoughts of distrust and hostility towards me ended. She took several steps closer, her face full of shock, eyes wide and ears erect.

“R-Runner’s alive?”

“Yes, he and a couple others were captured when they attacked Tombstone.” Beside me, Balefire cocked his head slightly and looked from me to the mare standing before me. I’d told both Carrion and him a little about the conversation I’d had with the prisoners while we flew out here, but I hadn’t mentioned the name of the pony who’d told me.

“They said th’ others were all dead... that my Runner was dead... “ she muttered to herself, turning her head to look back at somepony within the mass of sleeping colorful bodies. Following her eyes, I found a small sleeping foal, resting in an empty spot that had been left by Willow when we’d entered. The tiny, light blue filly slept quietly with a badly repaired stuffed animal at her side.

I looked away from the filly to Willow, watching as she reached a hoof up to her face and rubbed lightly at her cheeks. Runner had mentioned he had family back here... what were the chances the first pony I’d find was his wife? The wasteland was a sick, twisted place, but sometimes it seemed to try and be better. After a moment of silence, she turned back to me, green eyes still moist with tears.

“What's to become of them?” she asked. A difficult question, since I had not asked either the Mayor or the deputies in charge what would become of the prisoners. Would they be tried for their crimes, or simply executed? I didn’t think the ponies of Tombstone would simply kill all the prisoners... at least not for a time.

“Honestly... I don’t know. I don’t know much about the townsfolk or the laws they live by,” I responded truthfully, shifting my weight on my hooves as I saw the mare wilt a bit before me. “They attacked Tombstone, in some cases injured other ponies, and helped steal supplies the town needs to survive the coming winter.”

“Ah told ’im it was a bad idea... Ah told ’im... why didn’t that stallion listen?” She shook her head and sat down suddenly, the strength she had shown moments ago all but crumbling as thoughts of her husband's fate ran wild through her head. Would he be killed? Set free? Locked away forever? The worry written all across her face was something I was very familiar with. I reached a hoof out and gently lay it across her shoulder, causing the mare to look up at me.

“I think the mayor now has some idea of why they did what they did. At first, they just thought they’d been attacked by a group of bandits, but after your husband spoke to me, one of the deputies explained it to the mayor,” I said gently, trying to give the mare at least some hope for her husband. “I doubt the mayor is the kind of pony to just kill others for trying to feed their children.” I lowered my hoof and went on.

“But, it would help if we could get those supplies back to him and the townsfolk soon, and perhaps if you’d be willing to explain everything yourself to him, he might be willing to help you out.”

“No!” the sudden shout caught both Willow and I off guard, and awoke several of the sleeping ponies nearby. We both turned to look over at the young stallion who’d been giving Balefire and I the evil eye ever since we arrived. He had his weapon up and pointed at me, a determined look in his eyes.

“Roy?” Willow’s ears flicked upwards in surprise at the weapon and took a step backwards, wiping her face hurriedly.

“Don’t listen ta him, Willow, he just wants ta take the food back with ’em and leave us here ta starve!”

I remained where I was, slowly moving my forehooves up to show I wasn’t going to try and pull any of my weapons on the young buck. He seemed nervous as is, and the last thing we needed was for somepony to start shooting. I doubted his old weapon would do much damage with my armor on, but it was pointed at my unarmored face, plus the noise would attract unwanted attention.

“No pony is being left without food, friend. We’re just here for what was taken from Tombstone. From the sounds of it, the Blackhoof’s have been gathering food from all across the area.” I glanced from the barrel of the weapon to the pony holding it. He looked worried, but there was something else about him, “Besides, the food that was taken is for everypony in the area to use for the coming winter. You’ll get your share of it when the time comes,” I pointed out.

“Do ya take us for some kinda fools? Them ponies in Tombstone don’t plan on sharin’ any a’ their food with us! They didn’t even come help us when we was attacked by raiders!”

“Only because they never found out about the attacks. None of your runners ever reached the town,” I tried to explain, eyes fixed on the purple stare of the stallion with a weapon on me. “They never intended to exclude anypony from the winter supplies.”

“And we’re just supposed ta take yer word for it? Th’ Blackhoof’s said...” at this, the barrel of the weapon was brought down to point at the floor by a blue hoof, as Willow stepped up beside the stallion.

“Th’ Blackhoof’s said a lotta thing’s, Roy. Ah’m beginnin’ ta wonder how much of it was true,” the mare said, as she reached out and took the assault rifle from the pony’s mouth and clicked the safety on with ease. “Ya know as well as everypony else ‘round here that the Blackhoof’s have been actin’ strange lately. Not like they haven’t always been a might odd.”

“But Willow...”

“No buts, Roy. With Runner gone...” she stopped and shook her head, pushing the weapon back to Roy. “With Runner not here, that leaves me in charge of th’ ponies from Southfield, and Ah say we’re gonna give this Shadow a chance ta prove himself.” She turned to regard me, having regained some of her strength. “Any ideas how yer gonna be doin’ that?”

How indeed. All I had was what I’d told them, and half of that was guesswork. I really had no way of knowing what the punishment for the ponies back in Tombstone’s jail would be, if the mayor would go easy on them knowing more about their plight, or if he’d simply kill them and be done with it. I had no idea if he’d listen to anypony else about the problems the settlers out here have suffered, but I had to hope he would. He’d seemed a reasonably friendly enough sort. My only hope was what I had come to believe about the Blackhoof’s was true, and if it was then they’d need somewhere to hide it, keep it from being seen by the settlers. But where? Oddwick, for its size, was still a large enough town that if we searched the buildings we’d be at it all night... unless....

“I have an idea, but you’ll have to bear with me,” I began, looking from Willow to Roy and back again. “Is there anyplace in town where nopony’s allowed to go?”

“Just where they keep th’ supplies at. Ain’t nopony allowed inside ‘cept for members of th’ Blackhoof gang,” Willow began, arching a brow slightly. “They said it was supposed ta keep thieves from makin’ off with th’ town’s supplies, as few as they are.”

Of course.

“I need you to show me where it’s at...”

“Told ya, he’s just interested in takin’ away our food,” Roy growled, cutting me off. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was himself cut off as Balefire spoke up.

“If we were really just interested in taking away the food you guys had already stolen, why the hell would we bother coming in here in the first place? For that matter, why bother asking at all? Last time I checked, ponies don’t ask nicely when they’re planning on robbing you,” the dark green unicorn said with a snort at the end, red eyes shifting from Willow to Roy.

“Just th’ two of ya? Against all th’ Blackhoofs?” Roy snorted again and narrowed his purple gaze on my companion. “You an’ what army?”

“Do I count as an army?” a voice said from above, causing everypony present to look up into the rafters of the ceiling and the orange coated mare laying across the wooden beams. I smirked and shook my head slowly.

Wildfire’s battle saddle was uncovered as she held her wings open, the barrels extended and looking rather deadly in the flickering light of the trash fires. With a flick of her head, she sent her mass of red mane back across her neck and shoulders before looking back down at us with those bright, playful blue eyes.

“What do ya think, handsome?” she asked somepony behind us. We followed her gaze back to the door we’d just entered in several minutes before.

“Ah’d say yer a right army unto yerself,” the familiar drawl of Stonehoof answered his marefriend as he stepped inside the Post Office. The large gray earth pony’s frame filled the doorway completely when he stopped to looked around the room carefully, his green eyes taking in the armed stallion beside me along with everything else, all from below the rim of his battered old cowpony hat.

“Aww... ya always say the sweetest things to me. You're definitely getting some when we get back to town,” came the typical Wild response as she gracefully rolled off the support beam and dropped to the floor below. Before she could slam into the wooden floorboards, her wings snapped open and halted her fall, allowing her to hover for a moment, hooves inches off the floor, before she landed with barely a sound.

“I take it things went well at the barn?” Balefire asked the pair, the unicorn stepping around behind me to stand near Stonehoof, who’d trotted on inside while Wild settled onto the floor. The large grey stallion nodded his head.

“Eeyup, bunch of nice pony folk agreed ta stay in th’ barn while we sorted this whole mess out. Carrion offered ta stay behind and watch out for ’em, since a couple ponies were needin’ some medical attention.”

“See! They’re holding them ponies hostage...” Before he could carry on any further, an orange hoof was shoved into his mouth to silence him.

“We’re not holding anypony hostage, now shut the buck up and let the big ponies talk.” Wild removed her hoof and wiped it off on Roy’s chest as she looked back over her winged shoulder to Stone. Nodding, he stepped towards me and began to explain what they’d found at the barn.

“Like Ah said, we found a bunch of injured ponies at th’ barn, mostly th’ elderly and badly wounded. Carrion said he’d patch ’em up as best he can.” Stone looked over the room with all the mares and foals in it, then back to me, voice lowered a bit. “Ah don’t like it, Shadow. Th’ way they got ’em seperated just ain’t settlin’ well with me. Somethin’ else is brewin’.”

I had the same feeling, and simply nodded my head before looking back to Willow and Roy. The latter was going to be a problem, since he seemed to refuse to believe anything we said about the Blackhoofs. As for Willow... she had her doubts, but she also wasn’t about to just trust anypony who came out of the wasteland saying they were the good guys. Shame she hadn’t been in charge to begin with, or her settlement might not be in this situation to begin with...

Of course, a voice in the back of my head said, they’d likely be dead.

“What are ya plannin’ on doin’ ta us?” Willow asked, after the silence had gone on for sometime. It was Wild who answered first.

“Don’t go getting your tail in a knot, we aren’t planning on harming anypony at all. Well, actually... I think we’re going to be harming the Blackhoofs.” She lightly tapped her chin with a hoof as she thought about it before looking over to me. “Hey, we are going to be harming the Blackhoofs, right? I mean, they’re pretty much guilty as sin. Please tell me I can shoot them without you getting all mopey on us.”

I snorted and shook my head before turning to stand in front of Willow, looking kindly at the mare before saying, “No, we’re not going to harm any of your ponies. We’re here for the supplies and to help you if you're willing to accept it.”

“Ah can’t rightly say I trust ya, but ya’ve givin’ me no reason not to thus far. As ya said, th’ Blackhoof’s are up ta somethin’. Ah don’ rightly what it is, but Ah think our chances are better with y’all than with them.” As Willow spoke, I saw Roy’s face fill with surprise at the mare’s decision to trust us. “Ah can show ya where th’ supplies are bein’ kept.”

“Thank you. You’ve made the right decision, and I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your friends and family are safe,” I said, gently laying a hoof upon her shoulder. She blinked at those words and looked up at me; not for the first time had I gotten that look.

“Alright, lets get these ponies over to the barn.” Turning away from Willow, I looked to my three friends and at once we set about waking the sleeping mares up as gently as we could.

At first, Willow seemed ready to disagree with the need to send them to the barn, mostly due to the loud mouth of Roy. The stallion’s constant questioning of my intent was in truth beginning to irk me, but I managed to keep from lashing out. I also kept Wild from flying him up a couple hundred feet and seeing if he’d bounce (I’m fairly sure she was kidding... I think). It was Stone, however, who smoothed things over, pointing out one very important fact to everypony concerned.

It was clear to anypony with a brain (excluding Roy) that once the Blackhoofs learned of what was happening in their town, they’d likely come looking for the ponies responsible. While Roy steadfastly refused to believe us, Willow was not so sure they’d be willing to listen to reason. It would be far safer for everypony involved to be in one easily defendable building should this happen. That barn, my large grey friend pointed out, was just such a building. It was easily three to four times the size of the Post Office, with only three ways in and out, being a front and side door along with a window on the second floor.

Stone did not mention that it’d likely be us doing the defending, since the weapons the mares had would likely not cause an armored pony much trouble, and not even Roy’s assault rifle would do much more then give a pony a case of rust poisoning should he choose to shoot somepony with it. Still, I still hoped we could avoid this. If we could gather up the supplies in a couple of wagons along with those willing to go with us, we could slip out under the cover of darkness.

Reluctantly, Roy gave in, mostly in part to Willow convincing him to help us, and within ten minutes we had roused the sleeping ponies and gotten them ready to move. Foals of every age lay draped across their mother’s or older sister’s backs, blinking sleepy-eyed at everything going on around them. One of the mares had slipped out while we’d been waking the others and returned with an old battered wooden cart, on which the wounded stallions were carefully loaded.

Thankfully, Roy would not be coming with us. He would instead help the mares through the dark streets and towards the barn, where he’d agreed to help Carrion watch over them. While I’d been happier if one of us went along to keep an eye on the stallion, we’d likely need all the help we could get when we found the stolen supplies. I had faith once they reached the barn that Carrion would be more than able to keep an eye on that pony.

I had just finished helping a mare with her few personal belongings when I noticed Wild approaching me. The mare I had just helped thanked me, then balanced the small rag with the few items she had upon her back and went off in search of her foal. Wild nodded as she passed the other pony before stepping up near me.

“Something wrong, Wild?” I asked, as the pegasus watched the ponies moving towards the front door.

“Look, I know you mean well, and I agree we should try and help these ponies, but how exactly are we going to do that and get Tombstone’s supplies back to them before the Blackhoofs catch wind of us.”

“I honestly don’t know,” I answered, looking over as Willow helped one of the wounded bucks to the door. He had several gunshot wounds on his flanks and couldn’t move very quickly. “If we simply left with the supplies, the bandits would likely blame them for it. While they aren’t exactly raiders, I’m still not so sure they wouldn’t be above just killing them.” Hell, for all I know that had been the plan all along; get them to help steal the supplies, then kill them when they were of no use.

“I don’t think they’re planning on killing them... at least, not all of them,” my friend said, a troubled look in her eyes as her wings fidgeted a bit. She stared over my shoulder at Willow as she slipped through the doorway with the stallion in tow.

“What do you mean?” I asked, glancing around to make sure nopony else was nearby as we talked. In truth, something had been bothering both her and Stonehoof since they’d returned to the barn. It was not hard for me to see, having gotten to know the pair rather well on our journey across the wasteland.

“The way they have the elderly and injured separated from the mares and foals... I’ve seen this happen before in another town,” she began, as a couple of foals scampered past with their mother. Waiting until they had trotted out of earshot she went on, “While I was in eastern Equestria fighting with Griffon Mercs, we happened upon a town that had been attacked just recently.”

“Our squad leader told us to search the town for anything useful that may have been left behind. At the time we thought it’d been attacked by raiders, but it seemed fair to well organised. The buildings had neither been razed or covered in blood. While we searched, I happened upon town hall and discovered evidence that a number of ponies had been held there: worn blankets, empty water canteens and the like. As I was searching the rooms, Redtail, the squad’s griffon leader, told me it was a common tactic for slavers to divide a town's population into those they could use, and those they couldn’t.”

I hadn’t learned a lot about slavers since being on the surface, nor did I really have any desire to do so. Selling other ponies as slaves just made no sense to me. It just seemed so... evil. As bad as what raiders did, if not worse. At least the raiders killed you eventually. What little I did know of them had been gained from listening to Three Horns talk about them on the radio and from Stonehoof.

“As for those of no use to the slavers, the sick, injured or elderly... well, one of the other mercs in the squad found them. Lined up in a garage at the edge of town, shot repeatedly.”

“We need to stop them from leaving...” I said, sitting up and getting ready to yell for Willow, before an orange hoof stopped me.

“Carrion’s already aware of the possibility, and Stone was right when he said the barn would be more easily defended than the Post Office. Before we got here, I did a quick flight over the town, and while I lack the fancy Pipbuck for tracking targets, I did see most of the gang at the saloon along with a few mares. I think the Blackhoofs will be busy for most of the night,” she said quickly. Well, that did give us some time.

“That gives us a couple hours at most to find those supplies and get the fuck outta town.” I frowned and glanced back to the front door, where I could see Willow outside helping the wounded stallion into the cart, then cocked my head. It had worked for Stable 45... “Wild, did you see any wagons or carts while you flew over town?” I asked, turning back to the pegasus, an idea forming.

“Yeah, there are a couple parked not far from the barn, actually. Stone passed them as I flew over the saloon.” She tilted her head a bit. “You think we could get this many ponies loaded up before sunrise?” she asked.

“We’ll have to... come sunrise, we’ll either be out of town or fighting for our lives.”

As the last of the ponies filed slowly out the front door of the Post Office, Willow turned to lead us back inside the building and past the now-empty beds that lay scattered across the floor. Behind me, Stonehoof, Wildfire, and Balefire followed closely, our hoof steps echoing within the now empty, silent room as we wound our way around the dust covered counter and into the back.

Willow pushed the door open, sending rays of flickering fire light into the darkness of the back room. Stepping past the doorway, I scanned the room where long ago ponies would have sorted mail coming and going around Oddwick. Now the shelves and desks that had once held letters and packages were covered in a thick layer of grey dust, any papers that had survived the passage of time having likely long since been burned away in the barrels out front. Old mail bags lay where they’d last been dropped near the rear of the room where Willow lead us.

“Th’ building where they keep th’ supplies at is near the saloon where th’ Blackhoofs stay. Ah reckon ya’ll wanna try and avoid ’em as much as possible, so we’ll take a side road up through town ta the back of the storehouse. It’s normally guarded by two ponies, one at th’ front and one at th’ back,” she said, looking back across her shoulder to us.

“Just lead the way, and we’ll take care of the guards,” Balefire said with a cocksure grin. I’d not had a chance to tell the pony what Wild had told me, mostly because he had spent most of the last few minutes helping the mares load up the cart. I didn’t want to worry anypony else just yet.

Willow nodded once before turning back to the path before her and the closed wooden door at the rear of the Post Office. The blue unicorn’s horn began glowing as she started removing a number of locks from the door. I suppose being a government run building, they had to be sure the mail was safe until it was delivered to the correct ponies in town.

As she unlocked the door, I glanced over to a desk sitting nearby and tilted my head slightly to the side. There was an odd piece of paper sitting out atop the desk, along with a badly faded photo of a pony. Stepping away from the others, I reached a hoof up to turn the piece of paper around so I could read it. It was just some report on a troublesome mail mare the Post Office had a visit from a couple of months ago... well, I suppose it was a hundred or so years ago by now. Reading over the notice, it made mention to not allow her to stay for long, since the mayor of Oddwick had made it clear she did not want the town’s mail being scattered across the desert again. Arching a brow, I looked up to the faded photo and saw a wall-eyed grey pegasus with a sheepish look on her face. Somehow, I had an odd feeling that she wasn’t quite sure what went wrong.

“Alright, looks like th’ coast is clear.” Willow said from the doorway, causing me to look up from the report and to the mare as she held the door open with a hoof, “We’ll need ta be quite as we travel through th’ streets. Ah reckon most of the Blackhoofs are deep in their cups at th’ moment, but we still wanna be careful if yer lookin’ to avoid a fight.”

“Indeed we are,” I said, stepping away from the desk and checking my shotgun’s safety, which was off. I was going to try and avoid trouble, but trouble seemed to not ever want to return the favor. I stepped up near Willow and peered through the open doorway myself, allowing my E.F.S. to do the long distance search as I focused on the neighboring buildings and street. Neither my own eyes nor the targeting spell showed anything nearby, simply the last of a line of green dots moving away from us and the Post Office. There were no signs of red dots anywhere in this part of town; a bit odd, but then, I supposed the ponies here had nowhere else to go but miles of hostile desert.

“Alright, lets go... Willow, lead the way, please.” The mare nodded her head and quietly slipped past me and out the door. With a nod to Stone, who stood directly behind me, I plunged out into the open street and the near total darkness of the night.

The only sounds to reach my twitching ears were of our little group’s hooves treading upon the dry, dirt-covered streets of the former mining town, plus the distant sound of revelry coming from the bandits’ saloon. Willow walked quickly through the empty streets, working her way between the shadows of buildings and alleyways whenever the path ahead was blocked by a fallen roof or collapsed home. While my Pipbuck’s map was updating itself with these sudden changes to the town’s layout, I still found it better to trust a pony who knew the route herself.

I glanced behind me. Despite the lack of red dots or visible enemies, both Stone and Wild were keeping a watchful eye on the darkened buildings’ windows as we passed. Like me, they were expecting trouble, for years of living out in the wasteland had taught them that trouble was everywhere. At the rear of the group I saw Balefire trotting along with a wide grin, the unicorn’s red eyes looking this way and that. Not much seemed to worry that buck.

But then, he had no idea what was going to happen come dawn. Come to think of it, neither did I. The Blackhoofs could just as likely stay here another couple days before killing the ponies in the barn.

Turning my attention back to our surroundings and away from my dark thoughts, I looked over the ruined homes as we trotted down one of the side streets. Most had fared poorly over the years and it was clear neither the original settler ponies who’d once tried to reclaim the town nor the current bandits had attempted to repair any of them. Roofs sagged and doors and windows lay broken and shattered, whether from the harsh elements or scavengers was unclear. Like most small towns throughout Equestria, during the early days of the end of the war, survivors had likely searched everywhere for supplies to help them stay alive for a few more days. Ponies like Marshall Pipsqueak and those he’d lead to safety away from Kanter City.

I looked down to the metal star pinned securely to my chest armor, and then to the black metal combat shotgun that bounced about with every step I took. Both had belonged to the long-dead lawpony; one had apparently been left as a gift for somepony (Had it really been me? It seemed so unlikely, but then, who?), the other had simply been left with the other symbols of his former life as a Equestrian Marshall. I’d taken them all with me, and ever since then ponies had been looking more and more to me as some sort of hero. But I wasn’t a hero... I was just a normal pony trying to do the right thing.

Willow, who was still leading the way, turned suddenly away from the street we’d been following and motioned for us to follow her into an alleyway. A quick check showed two red dots just beginning to appear at the edge of my E.F.S. The guards near the supplies?

Stepping in between two homes, I followed Willow as she slowly stepped over piles of rusted garbage and scattered trash. My mind returning to my earlier thoughts. But hadn’t Pipsqueak been just a normal pony? Dressing up as a colt for Nightmare Night like I had, having hopes and dreams like any pony would. The newspaper clippings I’d seen in his office had hailed him as a hero. Who did the wasteland hail as a hero? Three Horns spoke well of the C.S.E. in far off San Ponsisco, but again I asked myself: who was the pony looking out for all the ponies scattered across the wasteland? Ponies like Willow and her husband? Towns like Tombstone and Crossroads? Each had their Sheriff’s and guards, but they simply watched over the towns.

I shook my head. No. I was no hero. I just wanted to reach San Ponsisco, settle down, and raise my niece. I’d leave the heroics for other ponies. Looking ahead, I saw Willow had slowed to a halt and was peering carefully around the corner of the buildings and out into the dark streets. I heard the soft hoof steps of my friends behind me.

“Perhaps, but who will pave the way for them? Who will save the heroes?”

I blinked and looked back behind me, about to ask Wild what she was talking about, but the question died on my lips as I saw the winged mare was focused instead on speaking quietly with Stone. Behind them, Balefire stood watch at the other end of the alley, eying the street we’d just left.

Come to think of it, despite the voice having come from a mare, it hadn’t sounded like Wild’s voice. A quick glance ahead seemed to indicate it had not been Willow either, a fact I’d already dismissed since the voice had lacked the southern accent that ponies around Tombstone seemed to all share. No, the voice had not been very loud, almost as if it had been whispered to me, or been in my head...

I silently groaned and brought a hoof up to my face, shaking my head. It had sounded similar to the voice in the bank’s vault, yet that had been a male voice, and had sounded quite unsettling and a bit evil. This one had sounded more gentle, calm even.

Great, I’m going crazy... and I’ll have two voices inside my head to keep me company when I get hauled off to the crazy farm. This reminds me of a story I once read in school, about some crazy unicorn named Firedoor, Firewalled or something...

I was forced to leave the question of my sanity for a later time, for now Willow had turned away from her scan of the town’s streets to look back at me, waving a hoof for me to come forward. Carefully I worked my way towards the mare and stopped near the edge of the buildings we stood between.

The one on my left had appeared solid when we’d entered the alleyway from the other end, but the rear of the building had completely collapsed into the street, blocking much of it in a jumble of wooden support beams half rotted away and twisted flooring. However, it was not this pile of debris I was interested in, nor was it why Willow had called me up. It was the dark building across the street from us that she pointed a hoof at and whispered softly in my ear, “Thats th’ buildin’, but seems there might be a bit more trouble than Ah thought.”

Indeed it was, for it made perfect sense why the bandits had picked this building over any other to house their stolen loot. I found it also somehow ironic. The building was two stories tall, and unlike most of the other shops and homes I’d seen in Oddwick, this one was made of stone, likely from the mines that were once the lifeblood of the little town. Small windows sat barred from the outside, blocking entrance into the stone structure. Though it lacked columns or any real decoration, the building was almost a mirror image of the bank in Tombstone. Fitting, since it too was a bank. Or rather, had been.

My Pipbuck’s mapping feature updated itself once more, and the First (and only) Bank of Oddwick appeared in the center, watched over by four red blips that stood on either side of the square building. Looking into the murky shadows that surrounded the rear of the building, I saw movement just near where the wall. As I watched, I began to make out the shapes of two ponies standing watch over a single door that I had no doubt would lead into the offices and employee rooms of the bank. I couldn’t make out much detail about the two; the darkness that had hidden us was now working against us.

Leaning back, I turned to look for my friends. Stone and Wild were just a few steps away with their weapons drawn and ready, and Balefire I could just see at the other end of the alleyway, standing watch for any trouble that might catch us by surprise. I fixed my gaze upon Wild and waved a hoof towards her. Slipping from her coltfriend’s side, the pegasus gracefully trotted up the alleyway to slip up beside me, hardly making a sound as her hooves stepped over mounds of rusting trash and debris.

“Mind if I borrow those night vision binoculars of yours again?” I whispered as quietly as I could. The night was still silent, and I did not wish to give us away just yet.

“What would you boys do if us girls didn’t know how to pack for a trip?” she whispered back as she slipped the black metal binoculars over to me, already free of her saddlebags. She winked, adding, “Somehow I figured you might need them and kept them close at hoof.” As I took them from her and turned back towards the bank, she whispered once more, “What are we up against?”

“Four guards, two in the front and two in the back,” I whispered back, lifting the binoculars up to my eyes. Once more the world turned several shades of green as the the night vision setting went to work. I focused them where I’d seen the dark shapes of ponies just moments ago, and now I could better see the pair.

Both were stallions, one an earth pony and the other a unicorn. Color wise, I couldn’t make much out given how everything was a shade of green,but that was hardly important at the moment. Both ponies wore similar-looking combat armor, with shoulder pads, a high collar, and thick armor plating around the chest and forelegs. I found it once more odd how familiar looking the armor was to what the guards in Crossroads and the deputies in Tombstone wore. In fact, it also reminded me of Carrion’s armor and that of the twins we’d found in Kanter Cities subway tunnels. Was it possible everypony around used salvaged military armor used by the Equestrian Army? It’d make sense... and it was also not something I should be thinking about at the moment. Well, it was a question for another time at least.

Looking back to the guards, I focused instead on their weapons. As was typical for ponies in the wasteland, neither carried the same type of weapon. The unicorn had a simple rifle slung across his back. Like Stone’s, it was a bolt action, and had a small clip secured and ready to fire. The earth pony next to him carried a double barreled shotgun; unlike the stallion aboard the train, the barrels were not sawed off, but looked as if they’d been repaired a number of times. Both had sidearms in the form of pistols holstered at their sides as well as a small collection of spare rounds and clips strapped to their armor. The unicorn had a short knife tucked into his foreleg armor.

My eyes narrowed as I watched them; from the armor they wore to the weapons they carried, everything appeared well maintained and clean. While there was evidence of repair work on the armor plating and the weapons, it had been done by skilled hooves. There did not appear to be any real weak point in the armor plating, nor the joints. There were no massive scars along the weapons barrels or stocks where they’d been used as blunt weapons. They were also quite alert. Any sudden noise, and the two ponies’ twitching ears locked upon the sound and their eyes soon followed, glaring out into the darkness for any sign of trouble.

I shifted the binoculars away from the guards and further down the street, looking for some way we could sneak up on the pair, but it seemed the wasteland was not going to offer me a free pass. That, and it appeared the Blackhoof gang had some tactical knowledge. The street was largely clear of debris of any size. If not for the ruined building we sheltered behind, the street would fit in well with any in Tombstone or Crossroads. There were no rusted-out carts or piles of trash, just a wide open, empty street.

“We’ll never get close enough to them to take them both out before they sound the alarm,” I whispered softly, as I looked from the street to the nearby buildings. “I suppose we could go further on down the street, work our way up via way of the alleys...” But if anypony made a sound, we’d likely be discovered. I lowered the binoculars to look over at Wild and Willow. Perhaps Willow had an idea on how to get us closer; she’d been in town for a couple weeks now. Hoofsteps from behind us caught my ear and I turned to see Stone moving up beside us, peering into the darkness. After a moment, he nodded his head and looked over to me.

“Ah reckon Ah can take care of this problem if ya’d like.”

“How? If we fire a gun everypony in town will hear it.” In all likelihood, the sound would travel halfway across the desert, it was so damn silent.

“Ah got somethin’ for that, don’t ya worry, Shadow.” Stone said, patting his saddlebags with a smile.

“But are you sure you can take them both out quickly enough? It’ll only take one of them to sound the alarm,” I whispered back, although I’d seen the stallion do some pretty amazing things with his rifle. Nearly every one of his shots went to the head, and he’d rarely, if ever, missed. An amazing skill for a pony without a Pipbuck’s S.A.T.S. to aid him.

Stone stood there silently, staring at the two guards lurking within the shadows for a while, then reached up and removed his cowpony hat with one hoof while the other ran through his sweat-soaked mane. Finally, he slid his hat back on before nodding to my question. As his hat dropped back over his ears, he pointed the hoof that had held it towards the right of the alleyway.

“Ayep, sure enough Ah can, but Ah’ll need one of ya’ll ta make a distraction for me, cuz Ah’m gonna need both of’em ta be lookin’ in th’ same direction.”

I was about to ask what he needed when the blue unicorn who’d silently been standing beside me bent over and lifted a piece of rubble from the ground with a hoof, a simple small stone.

“Ah reckon this should make a quiet enough sound ta not attract th’ other guards but catch them two’s ears,” Willow said, looking from me to Stone. The grey stallion nodded his head in approval.

“Ayep, should do just fine.” Stone whispered back before motioning me to move back. As I did, my friend reached back into his saddlebag and withdrew something cylindrical. In what little light there was, I saw him reach down to his rifle where it lay against his chest and place the object to the weapons barrel. Then he began to slowly screw it into place and it was then I realized what he had: a homemade silencer.

About two hooves in length, it appeared made out of a metal pipe, with a good deal of grey tape wrapped around it. Whatever else had gone into making the silencer was hidden inside and instead I focused on the pony about to use it.

Carefully, Stone edged up to the corner of the alley and peered out across the street at the bank, focusing the two targets he was about to shoot. As he had moments before, the pony simply stood there, sizing up his shots and what he needed to do to make them happen. After several minutes, he slowly reached down to his trusty rifle and brought it up, its barrel now much longer and thicker than it normally was.

As he stood there, holding his weapon, Stone’s gaze lowered from his targets to the rubble pile beside him, looking for something among the twisted debris and piles of trash blown in from the streets. With critical green eyes, my friend searched for something, only he knew what, among the rubble until he at last seemed to spot what he needed.

Moving carefully so as not to dislodge anything from the pile, the large gray stallion slowly stepped up onto the ruined rear section of the building and slipped the barrel of his rifle between a broken wooden window frame, the weapon easily resting in the crook of the frame. He then carefully moved it from side to side, ensuring he had a free 90 degree firing arc, enough to cover both targets. Finally, satisfied with his position, the pony lowered himself down and gripped the rifle in both forehooves.

And then we waited, for several minutes, as Stone finished adjusting the sights on his rifle. As he did so, I brought the night vision binoculars back up to my face and looked back towards the two guards, seconds away from hopefully no longer being a problem.

Hmm, was it bad I didn’t seem to have an issue with what was about to happen, yet I had gotten so worked up over the ponies I’d killed in Tombstone? What made these bandits any different from those ponies? Through the green lens, the two stallions did not look like raiders; there were no body parts on their armor, no scars. True, they did look rough, but then, so did anypony forced to live out in the wasteland. So why didn’t I have a problem with seeing them about to die?

Simple. They robbed a town of supplies and left the ponies to starve to death or risk trying to go for help. While they didn’t kill and eat their victims, they were no less harmful than raiders.

My thoughts were disrupted when a grey hoof appeared from the corner of my eye waving over to us. It seemed Stone was at last ready, and that was Willow’s cue to catch the guards’ attentions.

Though my focus was on the green view I had of the guards, I could well imagine Willow drawing her forehoof back as she prepared to toss the small stone across the darkened street. I had a fairly good idea of where the cap sized piece of debris would land, the wall of the neighboring building. My ears twitched at the noticeable noise it made as it clattered against the wooden wall and rattled into the street, and I saw the guards through the binoculars turn their heads towards the sudden sound.

In that fraction of a second, as the guards heads began to turn to the right, Stone squeezed the trigger of his beloved rifle and the weapons normally sharp report was reduced to a muffled sound barely louder than the stone used to distract them. Just as the sound of the shot reached my ears, I watched as the pony on the left jerked backwards, leaving a dark green spray in the night vision. The wall behind him was equally splattered with blood as the round tore through his head and impacted the stone wall.

I blinked and saw the second pony, the one on the right, turning back towards the noise of his companions head splattering all across the wall. From the corner of my eye, I saw Stone’s grey hoof work the bolt of his rifle, and the slowly spinning brass shell smoking as it flew out. Almost impossibly fast, he had chambered a new round as he swiveled the rifle over towards its second target. The barrel had hardly stopped moving when he fired again.

The second guards eyes grew wide in shock as he watched his fellow bandit slump lifelessly to the ground in a heap. He began to open his mouth to yell, but suddenly his horned head jerked backwards and he dropped to his knees as the blood ran down the rough stone walls of the bank, and he simply toppled over onto his side, very dead and very silent.

I lowered the binoculars from my face and turned my head to the left to stare at my friend. With a practiced hoof, the stallion slipped the bolt and ejected the second spent shell casing, allowing it to softly clatter down the debris pile and roll to a halt against my hoof. Slowly, he stood up, still holding his rifle and gave a slight smirk.

“Holy shi-!” Before I could finish, an orange feathered wing rose up suddenly before me and smacked me squarely in the snout. Luckily I managed to keep from yelling obscenities out as I stumbled back a few steps, shaking my head and trying to see what just hit me.

Willow wasn’t nearly as lucky as the mare was suddenly struck in her rump by another orange feathered attacker and dropped face first into the alley, but she held her tongue and only a small grunt of surprise passed her lips as she lay there dazed for a moment.

I arched a brow as I saw what had just happened. Wildfire stood in the center of the alley, eyes fixed on the two dead ponies across the street from us, blood likely pooling around the gaping holes in their heads. The pegasus’ wings were sticking straight up, and it had been them that had pummeled both Willow and myself.

The red-maned mare turned as Stone carefully climbed down from the rock pile, then wrapped her forehooves around his head and pulled him into a very passionate kiss. Judging by the surprised look on my friend’s face, I had no doubt there was tongue involved.

“What the hay’s going on up here?” I heard hoofsteps quietly approach from the other end of the alley as Balefire trotted up to investigate all the sudden noise, though it seemed none of it had alerted the two guards still standing on the other side of the bank. As the green unicorn stepped up beside me, he followed my shocked gaze to the pair all but making out in the middle of the alley and blinked his red eyes.

“Damn...!”

Damn indeed my good, pony... damn indeed...

Finally, the kiss ended, as Wild pulled back her muzzle from her coltfriend’s and reached a hoof up to readjust Stone’s old cowpony hat, which had gotten knocked askew as she’d eaten his face. Stone’s green eyes were slightly dazed and he had a rather goofy looking grin on his face as Wild stepped back and relaxed her wings a bit.

“That... was hot,” she whispered seductively to Stone, giving his lips a final lick before trotting off out of the alley and into the open street beyond. Stone’s hind right hind leg gave a little twitch as he sat there stiff as a board (likely in more ways than one).

“Wild, sometimes I worry about you...” was all I could whisper as I began picking myself up from the ground, using my tail to brush my backside off.

Once we had Stone moving again, we quickly and quietly followed Wild across the street towards the pair of still warm bodies laying beside the messy back wall of the bank. A check of the door they’d guarded proved it was secured tightly by no less than five locks running along the door, which itself was made of steel, rusted in spots, but still strong enough to keep anypony out. Despite their age and neglect, the locks still held tightly, and would likely take me several minutes to remove.

As I reached back for my lockpicking tools, I saw Stone rummaging through the dead ponies saddlebags and pockets, while Wild stood watch near one end of the building. Willow, meanwhile, stood between me and the dead bodies, and was trying hard not to look too closely at the bloody sight. Just as I found my screwdriver, Balefire trotted past us and sat down in front of the door, red eyes narrowed on the locks. After inspecting them, the unicorn’s horn began to glow softly and his own screwdriver and pins floated out from his packs, red eyes looking over to me as he motioned a hoof towards the door.

“Mind if I give it a go?” he asked, to which I simply nodded and stepped back to give the pony room. Carefully, the green glowing pin and screw driver floated towards the first of the locks (how was it first? I don’t know, it was simply the top one and so as logical a place to start as any) and slipped the thin piece of metal into the slot open for a key. After several seconds of twisting and turning both tools, there came a soft, barely audible click from the door as the first lock was undone. Flashing me a grin, he removed both from the lock and set about going after the second. With the first one gone, the unicorn began swiftly removing the door’s defences with a skill far beyond what an earth pony could ever hope to do with just their hooves and mouth. Within seconds, the last lock gave a soft click of defeat and the door quietly popped open an inch.

Stone looked up from his looting as the door was pushed open by a green hoof, looking from the unicorn to me. We were both impressed by the stallion’s skill, and I was quite thankful for Spirit’s suggestion to bring him along on this mission.

Stepping past Balefire, I checked my E.F.S. once more, and still saw only two red dots remaining. Judging by their distance from us, both were on the other side of the building, likely near the front entrance. Still, I reached down to picked up Luna’s Ruse from where it’d hung against my chest and slowly, cautiously entered the bank.

Our hoof steps echoed off the walls of the narrow, dark room we entered, much like the Post Office. At first it appeared there’d not been much activity within the room for some time. Dust seemed to cover everything within the small back room of the bank. Old desks lay shoved into the walls, terminals, lamps, phones, and old empty coffee mugs cluttering their tops. Filing cabinets stood watch over the desks, standing halfway to the ceiling in some cases. Looking around, I saw the outline of another door on the far right of the room, likely leading deeper inside the building.

We all finally shuffled inside, the last in, of course, being Stone. The pony had busily spent as much time as he could stripping anything of use off the two dead guards, which had no doubt barely made a dent in the available space of the cavernous packs he carried across his flanks. He reached out, and quietly shut the door we’d entered through.

“Shouldn’t we do something about the bodies?” Balefire asked, as he put away his tools and looked over the room.

“No, it’d cause just as much panic for them to be found missing as it would if they were found dead,” Wild answered the young stallion, stepping around the room lightly, her blue eyes taking in her surroundings.

“Besides, this is just gonna be a quick smash and grab mission. Once we’ve found th’ supplies, we’ll pack ’em up right quick and hoof it on back ta th’ barn,” Stone added, as he trotted from the door we’d just entered and towards the inner one.

“We’ll round up a couple of wagons and then slip out while it’s still dark. If we’re lucky we’ll be several miles away before they realize what's happened. And unless anypony brought along a mop and bucket, we’d never clean up everything out there,” I said, following my friend to the door, ready to get this over with before something went wrong.

Willow cocked her head slightly as she went over what we’d just told her, before slowly nodding in agreement as Stone’s strong grey hoof reached up and took hold of the doorknob. The earth pony gave it a gentle twist, and discovered it was not locked. With a click, the door slowly opened inwards, the hinges creaking just a bit from age and disuse.

The hallway beyond was completely black, due to the fact that there did not appear to be any windows (not like there was much more light outside) and no emergency lighting here. Stone’s ears flipped forward as he stood there, peering out into the inky darkness, before turning to his packs. Whatever he was about to remove, a new lantern or flashlight, he wouldn’t get a chance to use, as Wild stepped up between him and the hallway. The pegasus reached a hoof up to her chest and pressed the button to activate the light built into her armor, the pale white light stabbing out into the darkened hallway, allowing us to see what lay before us.

The bank’s inner rooms seemed to largely lead off from this single hallway, as I could see a number of doorways along the narrow passage, most of them closed. Along the hall there was little real debris scattered about, unlike most of the other buildings I’d been inside. Perhaps not many had entered the bank after the bombs fell, but beside the lack of garbage there were signs of recent activity.

Lifting my hoof over Wild’s shoulder, I pointed the narrow beam of light down upon the floor and the dozens of hoof prints left in the dust, some made in dry mud from the recent rain several days ago. Bits of gravel from the streets outside littered the wooden floorboards of the bank.

“Unless this is where they come to take their shits, I’d say we’re in the right place,” Wild said beside me with a smirk, before taking a few steps out into the hallway. Stone followed, causing the floorboards to groan at the sudden weight and making the stallion freeze in alarm. Wild simply turned and flashed her lover a grin.

“Ah’m not fat... think ya’d of noticed since ya’ve been gettin’ a good look at me recently.”

“If you two are finished putting mental images into my head, I’d like to get further into the hallway then the door before the bandits catch us,” Balefire called from the rear, sadly beating me to the punch.

With Wild in the lead, we followed the tracks as they lead us towards the front of the bank, and through a doorway on our left. Once through, I saw much the same thing as there’d been at the Tombstone bank. A row of teller windows separated us from the lobby, each housing a booth for a pony to work for their shift, taking and giving out money to those with accounts here. Empty money drawers lay covered in dust under the booths, along with faded yellow ledgers and other office tools.

Just behind the booths and in front of us were four desks, with terminals sitting atop them, their screens black as the night outside. Like the Post Office, there were pens and lamps laying about atop them, along with more recent additions, such as empty beer bottles and cigarette butts. It looked like somepony had simply crushed the smokes out atop the wooden desk tops. The desks appeared to have been used by managers, or some other higher ranking pony with the bank; there were a few personal objects laying about the desk or floor. Clearly whoever had been drinking and smoking in here had no care for respecting others possessions. But then, these were the same ponies who’d just taken all the food away from an entire town.

Finally, to our left was the vault itself, nearly a mirror image for the one in Tombstone in size, if not state. Unlike the one back there, this one had no working lights inside the room, so like the rest of the bank it was completely dark. Also unlike the Tombstone vault, it appeared this one had not been shut for some time, yet even now the large steel door dominated the wall as it lay open wide, allowing us to see inside the vault itself.

The similarities to Tombstone’s bank continued, as I lifted my right hoof up and cast the shaft of light coming from my Pipbuck inside. Looking around I could see the walls lined with deposit boxes, a fair number of them open. There were also a number of old, well-worn wooden tables within the vault. Judging by their scuffed appearance I doubted they were original to the room, more likely hauled in by the town’s recent inhabits. The reason they had needed them became plain to see, to anypony looking.

Boxes of every size, type, and shape sat scattered about the vault, atop the tables and all over the floor. As my narrow beam of white light passed over them, I could see cans of food and boxes of supplies poking out from the tops. Small boxes of ammo sat beside cans of CRAM and bottles of Sparkle Cola. Under one table, I saw a cardboard box overturned and a large number of Spark Batteries laying spread out across the floor. Shifting my hoof to the right, I saw one of the open deposit box filled with nothing but jewelry, gold and silver chains for necklaces sparkling as they dangled over the edge of the door.

As I stood back, taking it all in, Stone, Wild, and Willow had all stepped up to the door and where looking inside in amazement, I couldn’t really blame them. Not since leaving Stable 45 had I seen so much in one place. Not all of this could have come from Tombstone; they’d never had time to remove this much in the time since the attack had started to when Balefire and I had reached the bank. A large number of this likely belonged to the settlements the Blackhoofs had ‘saved’.

“Ah’m gonna need a bigger saddlebag...” I heard Stone mutter as he stepped inside the vault.

“Fuck that, we’re gonna need a bigger wagon for all this,” Wild said from beside her coltfriend, as she pushed open a wooden crate on the floor. Reaching a hoof in, she removed a bundle of medical bandages before letting them drop back inside.

A soft gasp from Willow drew my focus to her, as she’d moved to the right. The mare had removed a ring from within one of the deposit boxes near the door. As my beam of light struck, it reflected off the slightly tarnished silver wedding ring, causing the single remaining blue stone to sparkle in the brightness. Looking closer, I saw a number of fittings around the stone, likely where others had once sat beside it. Either over the years, or from ponies removing them, the other stones had been lost.

“This belonged ta Runner’s Grandmother!” the blue unicorn said, holding it gently in her magical grip. She turned and looked over to us. “Ah thought Ah lost it when we was forced ta flee th’ town... it’s been in his family for generations.” The mare shook her head slowly. “They said th’ raiders got everythin’ of value from home.”

“Well, at least they were telling you the truth,” a voice from somewhere behind me called out. I arched a brow to Stone and turned away from my friend and the vault to bring my Pipbuck’s light to bare on Balefire’s green, horned face as he leaned around the hallway doorway.

“Find something?” I asked the young stallion, who simply nodded his head in response. I heard Stone and the others stepping out from the vault as the unicorn moved into full view of the tellers room, sitting down. He jerked a green hoof back down the hallway.

“You're gonna wanna see this, especially Willow.”

Sharing a look with my friends, Willow simply blinked as she looked between us. I offered the mare a nod before setting off at a slow trot towards the door and the dark hallway behind. Stepping out into the darkness, I looked back down the row of doors we’d passed on our way to the front of the bank and saw Balefire’s flank disappearing into one of them. If memory served, it had been shut when we’d passed it earlier; the unicorn must have gone back to check on the other rooms while we’d focused on the vault.

With the others close behind, we followed after our friend and entered the room. As my hooves crossed the threshold of the door, I froze and jerked my head back in surprise. A spiked raider head was staring back at me, dark red goggles reflecting my startled face and the light coming from my Pipbuck. As I began to reach for my shotgun, I noticed something out of place about the raider, such as the lack of a pony. It was simply just the armor, left sitting near the door in such a way that anypony who wasn’t expecting it would think somepony had gotten the drop on them.

Stepping side a bit, I let the others in and lifted my right foreleg up once more to better look over the room. There was more than just a single set of raider armor to see; in fact, there appeared to be a little under a dozen sets, judging by the number of helmets, scattered about the former office space. There was no mistaking them, those crude metal plates with any number of sharp edges and spiked tops, those chains and bits of ragged cloth hanging off chest plates and flank guards. Each piece was covered in gore and bits of bone, the usual trophies taken by raiders. Everything about the armor was linked with death. Even the smell coming off the suits of battered armor was of blood and death.

“These look like th’ raiders that attacked Southfield,” Willow spoke up from the doorway, ears laying flat to her skull as she looked over the suits of armor with wide green eyes. “Ah don’t understand... what are they doin’ here?” she asked, looking from Stonehoof to me.

“Looks like they’ve been thrown out, since it appears they’re no longer needed,” Balefire spoke up, lifting a hoof up to idly swat at a steel spiked helmet, rolling it onto its side where it rocked back and forth a few times. The shadows of the spikes appeared to be impaling our own on the wall as the lights moved across the room.

“Are ya saying these belong ta th’ Blackhoofs? Did ya’ll know about this?” Willow asked, sounding surprised. I suppose I couldn’t blame her; to anyone else there’d seem to be no logical reason to dress up as raiders. But then, I had found logic rarely went hoof and hoof with the Wasteland.

“I think most of us had some idea what to suspect, after what we’d heard from Runner and the townsfolk. It just sorta made sense,” I answered. In truth, I wasn’t really sure how much my friends had suspected, but they were smart ponies. “After all, what were the chances the Blackhoofs would be nearby for all of these sudden and unexpected raider attacks, when there’s been no raider activity for months around Tombstone?”

“Ah thought they came from th’ border.” Willow began, before I waved a hoof off vaguely towards the south of town.

“Judging by the map I saw back in Tombstone, there’s little more than desert out that way without another town for sixty miles. That’s an awful long way to trek with little food or water. From what I heard, there’s been no real activity from the border in a very long time,” I explained.

“That’s mostly because of the N.C.A. They patrol the border between Equestria and Caledonia, making sure nopony crosses it without their knowledge,” Balefire spoke up, stepping away from the bits of armor to stand near the group. “And that’s the New Caledonian Army, for those of you in the back,” he piped up before either Willow or I could ask.

“Balefire’s right, th’ raiders stay clear of th’ border. There’s easier pickin’s further south in th’ small towns scattered across th’ countryside,” Stone added, earning a few looks from Balefire and Wild as to how the stallion had any knowledge of the other country. “Traveled inta th’ country once with a caravan Ah was hired ta help protect,” he added. “It’s a nice enough place, Ah reckon, but Ah’m a might fond of Equestria. As messed up as it is, it’s still home,”

“Right, so why would raiders risk crossing the border when there’s less risky locations to go terrorize ponies?” I asked, walking over to the bits of armor laying about the room and halting before the helmet Balefire had knocked over. “I mean, anything is possible, but it just doesn’t add up with everything else that’s going on.”

“But why would anypony dress up as raiders? It’d get’em shot faster than if they was slavers,” Willow asked as she lifted a piece of ruined armor from the floor, bullet holes riddling the charred piece of metal with a number of holes all across it. Like the other pieces, it bore spikes and broken blades attached to it.

“For caps,” I answered. Feeling four sets of eyes settling on me, I went on, “There’s a treasure trove of items back in that vault, from jewelry to supplies. There’s enough stuff there to keep a small town fed for almost a year. Just imagine how much it’d be worth if they could sell it.”

“It’d set a couple ponies for life,” Balefire said, looking back into the dark hallway as if he could see the vault’s open door from here. “To the right buyers, some of that stuff would go for hundreds of caps.”

“Exactly, so either they found this armor laying around or killed a couple raiders for it and they decided to make use of it. At first they must have gone out dressed as raiders simply to rob caravans, kill a couple of the drivers, then slip away into the desert, letting raiders take the blame.” I stepped away from the others and towards the helmet Balefire had overturned, reaching out a hoof to stop its gentle rocking. “But then somepony, perhaps one of these brothers that lead the gang, got it into their head to stage an attack on Tombstone for the supplies they’d heard were kept there.”

“No easy task. The walls aren’t just for show, but in fact are very well made. It’d take a large force of determined ponies to take the town, more than any gang could hope to bring to bear,” Wild piped up, adding her knowledge of military tactics to the discussion, along with knowing how to attack a fortified position.

“And so they decided to start leaving survivors to their attacks. To more than just place blame on a sudden group of raiders from the south, but also so that they could come ride to the rescue and appear to drive the raiders back,” I went on, righting the overturned spiked helmet back up onto its bottom.

“They convinced everypony our homes weren’t safe, that we needed ta go somewhere else where they could protect us while they hunted th’ raiders down,” Willow spoke up, having first hoof knowledge of the lies the Blackhoofs had told her town, “They urged us ta pack whatever we could and they’d lead us ta safety. We had ta leave so much behind, but they said we could go back for it.” Her shoulders slumped and she lowered her head.

“But you couldn’t. They told you the raiders returned and burned down your homes, and took everything that was left.” The blue mare nodded her horned head to me. “Then they kindly set you up here, along with others they’ve so bravely ‘rescued’ from raider attacks.”

“So, every time they left town, only ta return all beat up...” Stone said, remembering what Runner had said.

“It was from them attacking another small settlement or farm. Most they killed for being of no use to their ultimate plans, then picked over their homes for food and weapons.” Balefire turned back to us, shaking his head as he put the rest of the pieces into place.

“And once they had enough, they started sowing dissent in the ponies they’d so bravely saved from the raiders. Telling them how Tombstone had abandoned them, how their messengers had been shot when in truth it was all their doing. All to get them ready to attack Tombstone and steal the supplies for them,” I finished, eyes narrowed on the spiked helmet before me. With a flick of a hoof, I sent it rolling backwards and off the table to disappear beyond the light of my Pipbuck.

“But how’d they get past th’ walls?” Stone asked, looking between us. “There’s no way they coulda gotten close enough ta climb over it without somepony seein’ that many.”

“There’s only a couple guards that stand watch at night, stationed near the gates and four corners of the wall. The deputies said they found the ponies near the south gate dead, stabbed several times in the back.” Balefire pointed out to my friend. “They had to have help... from somepony inside the town.”

“Ah reckon yer right bout that, but that ain’t exactly solvin’ our more immediate problem,” Stone said, bringing us all back to the matter at hoof. “How exactly are we gonna be bringin’ all that stuff back with us ta Tombstone?”

“You want to bring it all? I thought we were just after the supplies they stole from town.” Balefire cocked his head looking between Stone and myself.

“We was, but in case ya ain’t noticed, everythin’ in that vault is stolen from th’ hardworkin’ ponies all across th’ area. Some of ’em likely died tryin’ ta keep their stuff outta th’ hooves of those Blackhoofs.” Stone shook his head slowly. “It don’t sit right with me ta just leave it here for those that killed ’em.”

“I agree, Stone... believe me, I do. This isn’t fair in any way, to just let ponies who’ve stolen, killed, and lied get their way goes against everything I was raised to believe, but we’re not just here for the supplies anymore. There’s a whole building full of mares and innocent foals we have to think about.” I turned to look over my friends’ faces. “If we’re right, and they no longer need the ponies they took in...” I looked over to Willow, wondering if I should refrain from mentioning the likelihood she and all her friends would be sold into slavery if the Blackhoofs had their way. She already had enough to worry about, without adding that. But then, perhaps I should. She had a right to know what was going on.

“We can’t allow so many young lives be taken away by possible slavers. We have to get them to safety, then we can try and return for the supplies.” If they're still here, I added silently. Once the Blackhoofs discovered their former followers missing, they’d likely move up their plans for leaving the area, taking everything they could with them. That must be what the wagons were for, to haul the loot they’d collected over the past few weeks with them across the border.

“We should get back to the vault and figure out what we’re going to do,” Wild suggested, turning back towards the door. Giving the room another look, both Willow and Stone turned to follow her.

I looked ahead, where Wild was leading the others back down the hallway. I wondered how much we could load into the sky chariot before the Blackhoofs discovered us. I mean, for all we knew, the guards could be due to change shifts soon. As I followed them down the hallway, I thought of all the items inside the vault. Even if we loaded down all of our saddlebags with food and medical supplies, there’d be well over five times that left behind in the vault, not to even mention all of what we couldn’t take. Ammo, weapons, personal effects, all of it left behind for the bandits to take.

“We could always burn whatever we can’t take,” Balefire piped up as we rounded the corner into the main room. Stone looked back to the young green unicorn and frowned at the idea.

“That’s an awful lotta food ta be burnin’ when there’s so many ponies in need of it...”

“Better that than letting these thieves get away with it,” Balefire responded, looking over the vault behind Stone and Wild.

I followed his gaze to the large steel door. It was as thick and well built as the one I’d seen in Tombstone. No rust marred its surface and I wondered what sort of metal it had to be made of to resist one hundred and fifty plus years of rot. A quick look around the room, however, showed there was very little sign of structural damage to the building, no way for water to get to the door. I shook my head. The Blackhoofs had been very lucky to find this town, and this place. The door had likely been left open after the ponies had abandoned the town. If it’d been shut...

I shifted the beam of my Pipbuck’s light away from the open door, to the door itself. It rested against the wall that covered the vault’s steel edge from sight; the massive door had likely been sitting open for sometime, but recently, somepony had seen fit to chain the door down to the wall and floor. Maybe to keep it from being shut accidently...?

My thoughts were interrupted by a number of red dots just coming into range of my E.F.S. from the direction of the front of the building. My ears flicked back and I narrowed my eyes at what only I could see. The original two that had been standing guard seemed to move a few paces towards the others. Had somepony discovered the bodies we’d left out back?

I shifted my head slightly, looking off towards the rear of the building and saw nothing but the green dots of my friends standing around me. No... but how? The two guards that had been outside turned and joined the rest as they approached the front entrance to the bank, over a dozen strong. My pulse began to race. If they were as well armed and armored as those two guards... without the element of surprise, I doubted Stone could so rapidly dispatch this many before we were overwhelmed.

“Shadow?” Wild asked, slowly trotting over towards me as she’d noticed my sudden change in posture. Her stormy blue eyes widened as I snagged the firing bit for my shotgun in my teeth and whipped my head back up and towards the teller windows.

“Take cover!!!” I yelled as the door burst open in a shower of splinters and glass, causing Willow to scream in surprise and my friends to dive for cover. Luckily Balefire lunged forward and tackled the frozen mare to the ground as automatic weapons fire shredded the wooden teller stalls.

Slamming my shoulder into the nearest stall, I ducked below the counter as rounds ripped through the wooden top like it was made of paper. We couldn’t stay here; the bank hadn’t been built with shootouts in mind. Growling around the bit of my shotgun I rose up and returned fire, scattering our attackers as they rushed in through the shattered doors. I heard one yelp as I struck his flank, but beyond that, most of my shots missed.

“How’d they know where we were?!” Balefire yelled, his horn snapping to life as he drew his twin side arms and floated them up over the edge of the counter and returned fire. Next to the young unicorn, Stone was slipping his rifle around to his chest and reaching for the firing bit.

“We can’t stay here!” Wild shouted over Stone’s flank as rounds showered them both with splinters as they ripped through the poorly made teller stalls.

Ducking back below the counter, I gritted my teeth as several rounds tore through my cover near my flanks. Rolling out away from where I’d been sitting, I saw a number of other rounds tear through the wooden stall where I’d just been a moment before, several impacting the wooden floor and leaving deep grooves.

Time to go...

“Balefire! Can you open that?” I called out to the green unicorn a few hoof steps away. At the sound of his name, he glanced over his shoulder to me as I raised a hoof towards the vault door. His red eyes traced my black limb to the steel door and the chains holding it open. His ears perked up at what I was asking before a smug look crossed his face.

“Not a problem, boss!” he called back with a cocky grin on his snout lit by the glow of his horn as he floated his revolvers back up and emptied them blindly into the lobby full of red dots.

“Stone!” my focus snapped from the grinning face of Balefire to the earth pony attempting to rise up and return fire, an act made almost impossible by the sheer weight of fire coming towards us. Wooden chucks rained down on the pony’s hat as he took shelter. Yelling his name once more, it finally caught his ears and he looked across the open space to me.

“The chains! Shoot the chains!” I yelled, waving a hoof towards the vault door and the two chains holding it open. The stallion arched a brow and looked over his shoulder at the door. For a moment he shook his head, not understanding what I was saying before Wild, who’d figured out what I was up to, grinned and leaned in to fill in the gray pony beside her.

Stone’s green eyes traveled from the vault door to the chains holding it firmly in place as Wild lifted her muzzle from the stallion’s ear and flicked her feathery wings. The barrels of her battlesaddle rifles slid into view as the firing bit raised towards her mouth. Glancing back to his marefriend, Stone nodded his head quickly before reaching for his own weapon’s firing bit and crawling away from Wild’s side towards one of the desks in the room. Rounds struck all around him as the bandits out in the lobby blindly fired into the quickly disintegrating wooden divider. A few rounds struck near me, but luckily they only struck my armored back and shoulders instead of my unarmed flanks.

“Balefire, get Willow the hell outa here!” I yelled out. The mare had no armor to speak of, and Balefire wasn’t exactly equipped for this sort of fire. The dark green unicorn snapped his head towards me, about to argue when a few rounds struck near the panicked mare laying behind him and caused her to let out a surprised and frightened yelp.

The argument died on his lips as he watched Willow cover her head with her forehooves and was quickly replaced by one of determination. Snapping off the last of his rounds at the targets hidden from sight, the unicorn swiftly holstered his weapons and the glow around his horn dimmed as he rose to his hooves and helped Willow to hers.

As the pair began stumbling towards the hallway door, I rose up and began snapping off wild shots at any moving target I saw within the lobby. Like Tombstone’s, the room had a number of small tables and chairs scattered about, but the Blackhoofs had shoved much of it into the corners of the room, giving themselves little cover. Still, my rapid firing shots wounded only a couple of targets at best, as I was more focused on keeping their heads down long enough for Balefire and Willow to reach better cover.

As Balefire and Willow made a dash for the safety of the hallway, Stone had finished lining up his shot on the sturdy chains bolted to the floor and wall that kept the vault door open. The grey stallion squeezed the trigger of the firing bit in his mouth and the rifle’s barrel spat a single brass round towards his target. Barely had the report echoed within the room when his hoof reached up and worked the bolt action of the weapon, ejecting the spent round and sliding another into its place. The weapon had barely been returned to its position when he fired again, and again, and again. Four rounds ripped through the thick air of the bank’s dark room. Two rounds for each of the heavy chains, which sparked as each round struck and shattered a single link and allowed the rest of the length to swing freely from the wall or drop uselessly to the floor.

The vault door groaned as it slowly began moving away from the wall where it’d been restrained for the past few weeks. How it had been before then, I could only guess, but as I watched, the door began gaining speed as it swung towards the open vault frame. Beyond the tellers windows, I heard somepony yell out in alarm as he saw what was happening just out of his reach.

“Wild! Covering fire!” I didn’t need to tell the mare twice. In fact, I hadn’t needed tell the mare at all: the orange coated pegasus had already risen from where she’d been laying and clamped down on the firing bit of her battlesaddle. The twin heavy rifles roared to life, putting the entire Blackhoof firing line to shame as rounds ripped through the wooden divider between us and lanced out into the lobby. Shouts of alarm and pain began sounding from beyond my cover as Stonehoof scrambled to his hooves and started running towards the doorway behind me.

When he had passed, I rose to my own hooves and snapped off another couple shots at the darting forms of ponies out in the lobby. Somepony threw themselves through a window to avoid the hail of lead being fired towards him, landing out in the street in a shower of glass shards. Satisfied they’d keep their heads down, I turned to look back at the vault door, just as it slammed shut on Tombstone’s stolen supplies, along with countless other stolen goods. The large wheel located in the center began to slowly spin as the seal began to form. My eyes then traveled to the control panel beside the door, and the electronic locks that no longer had any electricity running to it simply remained dark.

Shit...

Of course. It was never easy. Glancing back towards Wild, I saw the mare slowly making her way down the length of wooden teller stalls, still a good distance away. If I hurried... just as I began to rise to make a run for the now-sealed vault door, a green blur darted past me and into the room. I blinked and locked onto the dark green flanks of Balefire as he swiftly dodged between desks and bullets to reach the control panel.

As I sat watching in surprise, the dark green unicorn lept across one of the desks that stood in his path, skidding to a halt just beside the massive steel door, a few stray rounds from the cowering Blackhoof gang striking the door beside him. Ignoring the threat, he reared up on his hind legs and placed his fore hooves between the panel, his horn sparking to life in a deep green glow. This made him a target for anypony with half a brain, which it seemed most of the gang had, as more rounds began impacting near the stallion. Checking my E.F.S. I saw I only had four rounds left in Luna’s Ruse and little time to reload.

Rising up from cover once more I entered S.A.T.S. and at once focused upon the most immediate threats. A somewhat portly-looking stallion wearing black combat armor and wielding a well-maintained assault rifle in his mouth was standing closest to me. The earth pony’s dark brown eyes were locked on the glow from Balefire’s horn and he was seconds away from spraying the unicorn with lead. The buck stood almost fully in the open, as he’d been running towards the divider to try and cut us off from retreating out into the hallway. Behind him, I saw a number of other ponies following him up. Locking onto him with two shots, I saved the rest to send those behind him into cover. At least, I hoped that would be the result. With a silent prayer to Celestia and Luna I released the targeting spell and time began to speed back up. The assault rifle’s barrel slowly turned on my dark green friend.

My teeth clamped down hard around the steel firing bit wedged inside my mouth, my tongue wrapped around the metal rod, and pulled back on the trigger located just in the front. I felt more than heard the click of trigger as it was fully drawn back, setting into motion a chain of events that would mean life and death for those around me. The weapon pressing against my jaw and cheek gave a slight shudder as the inner works went to work, the hammer falling and striking the firing pin on the brass metal percussion cap of the loaded shotgun shell, which in turns ignites the powder and sends the shell rocketing forward. When it at least reached the opening at the end of the barrel, the shell exploded into the world amidst a flash of smoke and a roar of sound. The single slug ripped through the air of the lobby and impacted the chest armor of my target, causing the stallion inside it to shout in pain and alarm, his assault rifle discharging as he clamped his teeth down upon the firing bit in agony. Pointed rounds zipped past my face, missing by inches.

My jaw clenched as the force of the first shot sent a wave of energy back into the weapon and my face. Those hot gases that had propelled the first shell forward was even now flowing back inside the piping of the shotgun, forcing the receiver backwards. As it did, the drum feed rotated slowly, bringing a fresh round into the chamber, even as the hollowed out smoking casing of the first was ejected out the side with a soft click.

Without even thinking, I pulled the trigger once more, and again the action was repeated, faster as time returned to normal. The second round followed the trail of the first almost perfectly, striking the edge of the weakened chest armor worn by the unlucky pony who was now stumbling over his hooves as the force of the first shot knocked the wind from his body. The second round knocked far more than wind from him, as a red mist sprayed out from the wound in the earth pony’s chest, sending him tumbling to the tiled floor.

Not bothering to spare the wounded stallion another moment, I snorted through my nose and pulled the trigger of Luna’s Ruse twice more until the weapon clicked empty and my E.F.S. ammo counter displayed a blinking double zero. The final two shells did their job, far better than I’d hoped, as one caught a stallion in the shoulder as he attempted to step over his fallen comrade. Instead, he face planted into the downed pony and was further forced onto the ground as another pony slammed into his flanks. The final round simply ricocheted harmlessly off somepony’s helmet, though it was enough to cause him to dive for cover, taking the two others following him down in a tangle of hooves and weapons.

I dropped my shotgun from my mouth, allowing it to snap taught around my neck on its shoulder strap. My hooves clattered across the tiles of the floor as I spun to make a dash for the exit, but stopped as I saw the unmoving form of Balefire slumped over one of the desks, several hoofsteps from the vault door, three holes ripped in his side that allowed blood to flow over the wooden desk top.

Changing direction, I rushed to the downed unicorn’s form and clamped my teeth on his neck, pulling him up onto my back. Struggling with the stallion’s weight, my ears twitched at the sound of rounds striking nearby as the stunned Blackhoofs began to organize themselves against the steady thunder of Wild’s rifles. She couldn’t keep it up forever; she would need to reload soon. With a growl, I finally managed to haul the pony onto my back, feeling his blood flow down over my coat and drip onto the floor.

“Hang on, Balefire” I whispered to the brave and reckless pony, before moving as quickly as I could for the doorway and the bank’s exit.

Wild and I reached the door at nearly the same time, the mare halting to allow me to dart through to Stone, who immediately took the weight from my back. As he did, I flicked the drum of my shotgun open, hurriedly reaching for the spare rounds I kept in my saddlebags.

“What now?” Stone asked after he’d finished getting Balefire settled between his shoulders and saddlebags. The dark green unicorn was still breathing, and he groaned softly.

“We win yet?” he asked, before groaning again.

“Not yet, Balefire, we’re working on that,” I answered quickly. The wounds were deep, and it appeared as if the rounds had not gone straight through, but where instead lodged inside his body. I found myself wishing I’d managed to talk both myself and Spirit into coming along now. “We need to get him somewhere somepony can work on those wounds,” I said, stating the most obvious fact for my friend, who returned the favor.

“Th’ barn’s th’ only real safe place at th’ moment.”

“Th’ barn? Oh no... if they knew we were gonna be here... then that means they might be attackin’ th’ barn... my daughter...” Willow spoke up for the first time since the bullets had started flying. I couldn’t really blame here for freezing up back there. She likely hadn’t seen what Stone or I had seen... shit, I hadn’t seen half of what my large friend had.

“Likely so. Just another reason we should get there before they do,” Stone added as an orange ball of fur and feathers lunged through the doorway, followed by a hail of lead.

“I suggest we get somewhere before those assholes try returning all the bullets I so kindly gave them,” Wild said as she reached a hind leg out and slammed the door in the face of a stallion rushing up towards her. “Like now, ponies!”

None of us had to be told twice, and with Willow in the lead, we ran back down the hallway and away from the shouts behind the door. It wouldn’t take them long to break it down: it hadn’t been built to keep ponies out after all. That was the vault doors job. The vault. My eyes went back to the prone form of Balefire and prayed they stallion had finished whatever he’d been doing to the door’s controls. Hopefully it would buy us some time, but to do what? Any hope of getting Willow’s ponies out of town had gone up in smoke the second the Blackhoofs had rushed the bank. How had they known where we were?

Gunshots echoed along the hallway as somepony back inside the vault room began shooting out the door’s lock. The sound was quickly followed by a pair of hooves striking the wooden door and knocking it back into the wall. Looking back, I saw a large, familiar stallion pushing his way through. As he turned and locked eyes with me, a look of surprise filled his as he recognized me. Luckily, the hallway was too narrow for him to quickly bring his battlesaddle to bear on me, so before he could, I was through the door at the end of the hall and slamming it shut.

“How close are they?” Stone asked. Before I could answer, two high caliber rounds ripped through the doorway I was standing in front of and struck the wall behind me, sending out a shower of pulverized concrete and plaster. Blinking, I looked to see a blown out section of door inches from my right hoof and another smoking between my hind quarters.

“Pretty damn close,” I squeaked out, stepping away from the door. The sound of grinding wood soon filled the room as Wild and Willow shoved a desk against the door. With Balefire still laying across his back, Stone trotted over to a row of filing cabinets and, turning his flanks towards them, gave them a mighty buck. The row of dust-covered metal cabinets toppled like dominos until the last slammed atop the desk the mares had just pushed up.

“Should slow’em down some!” Wild said, before turning and rushing for the rear exit door. Yanking it open, she poked her head around and peered out into the inky darkness for any signs of trouble. There wasn’t any yet, though it was approaching.

“Got three coming around from the right side of the bank. They must have gone back out through the front door,” I called out to my friends, shaking off the close call I’d just had as I trotted up to the door.

Once more, Wild took the lead and stepped out into the street, stepping over the dead bodies of the guards we’d killed just minutes earlier as she started back across the road towards the alley. Stonehoof, with Balefire still over his shoulder, was right behind her, and Willow keeping pace with the large earth pony. I was the last one out, and quickly shut the door behind me, to make the incoming ponies think we were still inside, trapped between them.

Darting across the open street, I slipped into the alleyway just as the red dots in my E.F.S. resolved themselves into three black armored stallions carrying a mix of weapons. I spared neither their appearance nor gear a second look, as it seemed they were focused on the shut door and dead bodies laying beside it. Taking the opportunity, I hurriedly followed my friends back down the alley and into the nearby street, retracing our steps back to the Post Office, though with a good deal more speed.

It took us only a few minutes to reach the barn from the Post Office, a task made far easier by the simple fact that our cover had already been blown and there was little reason to try and be stealthy at this point. Well, beyond attempting to attract more unwanted attention. However, it seemed the majority of the Blackhoof gang had gone off to the bank to try and catch us, and as a result, the streets were still surprisingly clear of danger.

Wild lead us through the streets from the air, hovering just above the buildings as she kept a watchful eye out for any trouble. The darkness was making her job difficult, if not outright impossible, but as we stepped out onto one of the towns streets, a soft glow on the horizon made me turn. It couldn’t be dawn already could it? Noting my confusion, Stone spoke up.

“That sometimes happens, th’ sun comin’ up sooner than it should.” I glanced to the stallion and arched a brow. He shrugged. “Be time ta explain it later.”

As we worked our way across the street into the next alleyway, I noticed something else: the buildings were growing fewer and smaller. We must have been near the edge of town by now, and near the barn itself. My guess was proven correct as we once more exited from between the buildings.

A large wooden structure rose up before me, dominating the end of town in a wall of wooden boards, faded red paint, and rusted metal roofing. Despite its age and lack of maintenance, the barn appeared in good shape, only bearing a few holes in its sturdy frame and missing metal sheets from its roof. The building was two stories in height, and easily as large as the bank we’d just escaped from. There was a massive double door at the front, and just above it on the second floor was a smaller door just below a wooden beam. Looking closely, I could just make out a rusted pulley bolted to that beam, and the end of a frayed rope sticking out from between the metal groves.

Beside the barn was a sizeable corral, the wooden fence broken in several places, time having rotted away the boards that made up the fence. The gate was all but gone, just a jumble of wooden planks lying forgotten in the dirt of the road. Whatever it had originally been used for I wasn’t sure, but now it was occupied by a group of two headed cow creatures busily munching on a bundle of what looked like old hay. On all of the creatures, one head continued eating while the other head turned to regard us as we approached the barn.

They did little more than watch as we made our way towards the set of double doors, Wild dropping down from the sky to help me push them open. We’d barely gotten them open an inch when the barrel of an assault rifle was shoved through and jammed into my snout. A second later, a familiar rotting face appeared, horn glowing softly as the barrel was removed from my face.

“Well, it’s about damn time...” he snarled. “I was beginning to think we were opening a Celestia-damned daycare in town.”

Once we were all through the door, Carrion hurriedly shut it and replaced a wooden board, securing it. As the ghoul turned back, he caught sight of Balefire and cocked a rotting brow.

“Run into trouble?” he asked, helping me get the wounded pony down off Stone’s back. The grey stallion’s flanks and saddlebags were covered in the unicorn's blood. There’d been no time to try and bind the wounds while we’d hurried to stay ahead of the Blackhoof’s.

“Ya could say that, he needs a doctor or a couple of health potions, neither of which we seem ta have,” Stone said as he turned his head back to his stained packs and lifted the flap of one. Either he knew where every item was inside those large bags or he was very organized, because a moment later he withdrew his head holding a familiar looking yellow pack in his mouth. The three pink butterflies sewn upon the cover identified it as the medkit he’d used once before.

“Ya’ll need a doctor?” a voice from within the barn asked, and I looked past Wild’s shoulder to see an older-looking unicorn mare trotting towards us. Despite the dirt and grime that covered her body, I could still see evidence of a soft yellow coat and light blue mane and tail, both of which were tied back with worn red straps. A heart surrounded by three pink butterflies indicated her talent.

As we stepped aside, the mare’s eyes widened at the sight of the Balefire laying upon the ground, blood oozing from his wounds. Hurriedly, she took charge and pushed her way between us to reach the downed pony. After a quick scan with dark purple eyes, she looked up to somepony behind us and spoke quickly.

“Ginger, fetch my saddlebags from th’ back and get Tara ta help ya clear out one of them stalls, Ah’m gonna need ta remove these bullets fore I can patch this poor fella up.”

Within minutes, both Stone and I helped haul the limp form of our wounded friend towards one of the barn’s many stalls. The two mares the doctor had called to had hurriedly swept and cleaned out the space to the best of their abilities. Like everywhere else in the world, dirt, grime, and trash had heaped up inside the barn in piles over the years, along with the moldy bundles of hay that had been here for goddesses knowns how long. Carrion had returned to the door to stand watch, while Wild flew up to the second floor to do the same from the roof. Willow, meanwhile had gone off in search of her daughter. The mare was shaken up by the Blackhoofs’ attack on us and the knowledge of just what they’d done to her and her fellow settlers.

We gently laid Balefire down atop a pile of slightly less rotted straw covered over with a well-used but clean blanket. As we stepped away, the doctor, whose name I learned was Sunny, set to work. It seemed whatever luck we had had seen fit to bless us with the only doctor in the area. Sunny had taken care of no less than five of the surrounding settlements, at least until the Blackhoofs had arrived. She’d refused to leave the wounded and elderly to the barn, so they had left her with them. Whether or not she would suffer the fate Wild had mentioned for the others, I wasn’t sure. The fate for those taken by slavers may have made being shot a better one.

I quickly cleared my head of such dark thoughts and went back to watching the mare work on my friend (yes, I suppose after such a short time the brave and reckless stallion had grown on me). Sunny started her work by cleaning the wounds as best she could, using whatever scraps of cloth she could find that weren’t covered in dirt. After that, she began removing items from both her saddlebag and the faded yellow medkit Stone carried with him. Two of the items gleamed in the dim light offered by twin lanterns suspended from the rafters.

Whispering an apology to the buck, she began lowering the blade to his wounded shoulder to cut the bullets free of his flesh. We had no pain medicine; what little any of us had been carrying had been used up on the train ride to Tombstone, and my own supply of Med X had gone to the wounded ponies we’d saved from the raiders. We’d not had a chance to resupply before the town had been attacked, and much of their own stock had been stolen. What little they had left was being used to care for the ponies shot up in the attack.

Balefire merely fixed his red stare ahead as she began to work. One of the mares had given him a piece of wood to clamp down on as the pain began, and his teeth ground hard into the chunk of wood.

Turning away, I gave the unicorn some privacy as he was forced to endure more pain. Stepping away from the stall, I instead looked around the barn and got my first good look at where we’d ended up. It was hauntingly reminiscent of another place I’d recently been, a place several hundred miles from here: underground in an abandoned, bombed-out hospital basement. My eyes shifted from scene to scene as it was once more played out.

The barn was covered in dirt, grime and trash; that much I’d already seen. The smell of so many unwashed ponies together in one place was strong, but one that had helped dredge up those memories. I looked to the right of the barn, at the group of over twenty ponies laying huddled on that moldy and vermin-ridden hay, worn blankets thrown over their shivering forms. The elderly of a half dozen small settlements stared blankly back at me, either too tired to really notice or too sick to care. The cold night air had done none of these ponies any favors.

Laying near the older farmers were the wounded, hurt either from the raid on Tombstones or attacks by the local wildlife. Many of them had missing hooves or other body parts and sat motionless upon their makeshift beds. Their sides rose and fell as they attempted to get some sleep. Beside them sat or lay their loved ones, keeping them company now that they were no longer separated by the Blackhoofs.

I shut my eyes and looked away, opening them as I turned my head to look back towards where Sunny worked upon Balefire. The doctor had claimed the last stall on the left side of the barn. The rest contained the mares and foals we’d discovered in the Post Office. Among them was Willow, who sat nuzzling her daughter gently. None slept, unable to after we’d arrived. While they were slightly healthier than the wounded and elderly, they were in no better shape; covered in dirt and small, minor scratches and nicks. A few were thin enough to where I could begin to see ribs and other bones.

Suddenly, the Blackhoofs seemed little better than the raiders they had dressed up as to trick these poor folks.

I’d moved off from the others to try and think, or rather, to keep from thinking about Kanter City and my sister. It was going to be a very long time before I could think of either without feeling so many mixed emotions. And that’s if I had the time to come to terms with them. At the moment, things seemed a bit grim. My hooves carried me towards the far right front corner of the barn, away from most of the other ponies attempting to get some rest.

I glanced over towards the middle of the barn and the double doors. Carrion sat quietly before them, peering through a small hole that’d been made in one of the large doors, either by himself, somepony else, or simply time. The ghoul was so still one might think he’d died at his post. His assault rifle sat propped up beside his hooves, ready to be gripped by his magic should the need arise.

I only got a few moments of peace before somepony came looking for me, and judging by the sound of heavy hoofsteps, it was Stonehoof who had come. As always, my friend’s concern was evident with the first words out of his mouth, along with his tone of voice. Despite it all, I found myself smiling a bit at that.

“Everythin’ alright, Shadow?”

“As well as can be expected, Stone. How’s Balefire doing?” I asked without looking over to my friend. I heard the rustle of his saddlebags and scraping of hooves as he settled down on the floor nearby.

“Doctor says he’ll be fine. She got th’ bullets out without much fuss and managed ta stop th’ bleedin’. Pony’s tougher than he looks, it seems.” he chuckled softly before pressing on. “Doctor says he’ll be back on his hooves in an hour or so, Ah reckon.”

“Good, by then I’m hoping to have us all away from this place and on the road to Tombstone.” Was there even a road to Tombstone from Oddwick? It’d been so dark last night that it had been impossible to see much of anything from the sky chariot. Speaking of, what had caused the night to end so suddenly? Another question, however, rose to the forefront of my mind, and I looked over to my friend as I asked it.

“How had they known we’d be at the bank?” There was no way that’d been a simple change in the guards. They’d come charging in, as if they knew somepony was about to take back what they’d stolen.

“Ah rightly don’t know. Don’t make no sense, ain’t no reason they aughtta have known we was there,” Stone answered, reaching a hoof up to adjust his cowpony hat a bit and wiping off his face with a hoof. “Sure does seem we’ve stirred up th’ hornets’ nest though.”

“Excuse me.” A soft voice came from the end of the stall, and both Stone and I turned to look at Willow as she approached us. “Have any of ya’ll seen Roy? Ah can’t find ’im and nopony in th’ barn seems ta know where he’s at. Ah wanted ta tell ’im what we found at th’ bank in th’ hope he’d see fit ta give ya’ll a hoof.”

Stone and I shared a knowing look as the name left Willow’s lips. Roy. The stallion that had been so admit we were there to harm them, to steal from them. Standing up, I pushed my way past Stone and hurriedly trotted towards Carrion. Hearing my approach, the ghoul’s tattered ears swiveled towards me.

“Carrion, did you see a stallion arrive with the mares we sent from the Post Office? He’d be about our height, sorta reddish coat with an orange mane. I think his cutie mark was of a gun or knife?”

“Can’t say I remember seeing him come in with the others. Only stallions I saw were the ones being helped in by the mares,” Carrion responded, keeping his glowing red eyes fixed on the hole and the streets outside. “Why?”

“Lookin’ like he mighta been th’ one ta tip off th’ Blackhoofs ta our presence,” Stone answered, trotting up beside me as I sat down and swore to myself.

“Roy wouldn’t...” Willow began to defend the pony, before stopping herself and allowing her shoulders to slump. Even she had to admit the truth. “Ah just can’t believe he’d betray his own, and for what?”

“Money.” The simple word brought all our focus back on Stone. “Balefire said himself, th’ amount of supplies they have in that bank vault. It’s more than anypony could hope ta use in a lifetime. Even a gang like th’ Blackhoofs would be hard pressed ta use it all before they died.” The grey earth pony nodded his head towards me. “Shadow was right back in Tombstone when he said they’d likely try and sell it. Ah reckon that’s why Roy ran off ta his new friends ta warn ’em.”

“He’d either figured out the score, or knew how things would go from the start,” I added as I reached up and removed my hat. Running a hoof through my messy damp mane, I went on. “Once they’ve given up searching for us in town, they’ll head here.”

“Well, that’s just wonderful... now what?” Carrion finally tore his gaze away from the streets outside to look over at us, and the gathered ponies inside the barn. “There’s no way in hell we’ll get all these ponies out of town before they get here. Not with the supplies...” a rotted brow arched as Stone cleared his throat a bit at the mention of supplies. “We... did get the supplies right?” When the grey earth pony didn’t answer he shifted his stare to me.

“It’s... a work in progress,” I answered, rubbing a hoof over my left foreleg.

Carrion snorted loudly and shook his horned head. The ghoul looked away from me and back at the barn door, and silence settled uneasily around us. Only the occasional cough or groan from the wounded behind us drifted around the barn.

As we sat there, I noticed Carrion’s head turn back to the ponies behind us, looking over the foals and mares, to the wounded elderly and stallions, before he sighed tiredly. The ghoul had been fighting for ponies like these his whole life, and whether he admitted it or not, had been fighting for them even in death.

“So what now?” he asked as his red glowing eyes went from the ponies to me. “How do you plan on getting them out of here?”

“The only way we’re getting these ponies out of town is on the wagons Wild and Stone saw on their way to the Post Office. How far away are they from the barn?” I turned away from the burning gaze of the ghoul to my still-living friend.

“Couple streets at most, bout halfway ta th’ saloon, Ah reckon.”

“It’ll take us an hour or more to get them settled and loaded, and that’s if nothing goes wrong. Even if they give us that much time, which I doubt, who’s going to be pulling them?” Carrion asked, pointing out the flaws in my plan, which I admit was hardly a good one.

“Our only other option is to stay and fight them.” I shook my head slowly, letting my white mane fall across my face as I did so. “Which is what I was hoping to avoid when we set off... and even more now that we’ve seen them. These Blackhoofs are no raiders; they’re professional killers who don’t just blindly rush into fights to be gunned down by the dozens.”

“They may have been mercenaries judgin’ by their gear. It's all in tip top shape,” Stone added, making the task seem even harder. "If we end up fightin’ them, ponies are gonna end up dyin’ and not all of’em will be th’ Blackhoofs.”

“Nopony else is going to die because of those bastards,” I said with a growl, earning a surprised look from Willow and Carrion, and a concerned look from Stone. “If I have to go out there and keep them busy myself, I will.”

“Might buy us some time, if somepony distracted them,” Carrion said, rubbing a hoof over his chin in thought. "Still doesn’t help with who’s going to pull the wagons, though. Not saying a mare can’t, but none of them are in any shape to haul themselves halfway across town, let alone a full day’s walk back to Tombstone.” At this Willow spoke up.

“If ya’ll can get them wagons here, Ah reckon Ah can speak with th’ brahmin ‘bout helpin’ us ta Tombstone. None of ’em have any love for th’ Blackhoofs since they went and took ’em off their ranch. Once Mabel learns it wasn’t raiders that burned down her momma’s farm she’ll be all too happy to help.”

“Mabel?” I asked, to which Willow nodded and jerked her head off towards her right side, where the wounded and elderly lay. One of them was Mabel? “I don’t think they’re in any shape to haul wagons, Willow.”

“Ah forget yer a Stable pony and don’t rightly know much bout th’ surface. Mabel’s one of th’ brahmin outside th’ barn in th’ corral.”

The two headed cows? Owned a farm and could speak? Well, of course they could. I’d vaguely remembered something about cows being just as intelligent as ponies, but it was sometimes easy to forget that, when you’d never seen a cow in your whole life. Also, they’d changed a bit in the past hundred years. Willow went on to explain.

“Mabel’s th’ oldest of th’ survivin’ brahmin here; been lookin’ after her herd since her ma passed away a couple months ago. Couple of ’em died in th’ raider attacks... which was just th’ Blackhoofs’ doin’.”

“Ah reckon just one of ’em would be enough ta haul a wagon full of injured ponies back ta Tombstone. We’d make it a lot faster with their strength,” Stone added. The plan was finally coming together.

“Alright, then Stone and I will head out to collect the wagons. Shouldn’t take us long...” The sound of rustling wings caught my attention and I stopped speaking to watch as Wild dropped down from the loft, landing lightly beside Stone.

“I doubt you’ll have that much time to go anywhere,” she said, a sad smile on her face. “The Blackhoofs are coming up the street.”

I glanced to my E.F.S., wondering how I’d missed them, and saw nothing but a mass of green. Only after another minute ticked past did a red dot appear at the very edge of the spell’s range, and I sighed. Near the door, Carrion hurriedly jerked his head back towards the narrow opening in the barn door’s wooden surface and began swearing.

“Shit, they’re surrounding the front of the barn.”

“Then we’re outta options,” Stone replied, reaching for his rifle. The weapon slipped from its resting place across his shoulders and back and into his forehooves.

“We could escape out th’ back...” Willow started to suggest, only to have Wild shake her head, the pegasus’ long red mane falling across her shoulders.

“They moved snipers onto the rooftops on either side of the barn. We’d not make it a dozen paces away from the barn before they’d start picking us off one by one. By then, the rest of the gang would be on us, and let’s be honest,” she waved a hoof towards the back wall of the barn, “There’s jack and shit out there, and jack got eaten by radscorpions a couple weeks ago.”

The single red dot I’d seen turned into three, then six, then twelve, as the members of the Blackhoof gang began to surround the wooden barn on three sides, likely taking cover in the nearby buildings. As Wild had pointed out, there was no need to send anypony to the rear of the barn, since there was nowhere for us to go but out into the desert and to a sure death. I turned hurriedly to Willow, laying a hoof upon her shoulder.

“Willow, get as many mares as you can and start stacking up those rotting bundles of hay in the back. Make sure to stack them deeply. When you're finished, I want you and the others to take the foals and hide back there. When the shooting starts, the hay should slow down the bullets enough.”

“What about th’ wounded...” she blinked, ears upright and her body shaking a bit.

“If there’s time, get them behind the hay as well, but see to the foals first.” She nodded her head, tears at the corners of her eyes, before she hurriedly turned and rushed towards the group of mares and their children. I sighed and turned away from the ponies and looked back to the door and the line of red dots beyond it.

We’d faced worse odds to, be sure. Kanter City had been crawling with all manner of feral ghouls and raiders. We’d faced down a nest of radscorpions and crazed robots. But in each case, we had the element of surprise on our side. We’d ambushed the scorpions and killed them with overwhelming firepower. For most of the trip through the city, the raiders had no idea we were there, but when they did, we’d fled. The ghouls, well, we’d been lucky. It had also helped that nearly everything we had fought against had been either mindless machines or beasts, or had been completely crazy.

The Blackhoofs where none of that.

And we had nowhere to run.

“Hay won’t exactly stop much,” Carrion said, though thankfully keeping his voice low, as I started to check Luna’s Ruse. The weapon was fully loaded with solid shot, since buckshot would do little against the Blackhoofs’ combat armor.

“I know, but I had to tell her something,” I responded, looking up from my shotgun as I gently pushed the drum closed with a hoof, hearing it click softly into place.

The ghoul nodded and clicked the safety off on his assault rifle, a sound mirrored from Stone as he flicked a hoof over his rifle’s own. Wild flared her wings and began to launch herself back to the loft. I looked to her as she hovered for a moment, and nodded my head.

“Looks like it’s going to be Plan ‘B’ after all.”

Despite my concerns the Blackhoofs would beginning firing the second they had taken their positions, nothing happened. A quick check showed that the dozen or so red dots I’d seen had not moved from where they’d been moments before, and moments before that. There'd been no yell for surrender, or that we were dead. Nothing. Just silence.

After an entire hour had passed, I began to wonder what they were doing. Could they be planning on simply waiting until we made the first move? Or till we ran out of food and water? That could become a very real possibility with the number of ponies we had inside the barn.

Once more, I heard the heavy hoof falls of my friend approached me. I’d taken up a position near the door, watching the streets through a small gap between the door and the wall. In the last several minutes I had seen a bit of movement across the street, in the ruins of what looked to have been a bakery.

“Anythin’?” Stone asked in a whisper. The grey stallion had slowly been making his way around the barn, offering comforting words to the mares and foals hiding behind the makeshift barricade near the back.

“I thought I saw some movement a little bit ago, but nothing since then.” I groaned and leaned away from the sliver of dim light, my back and hooves aching from where I’d been standing for so long. Working my forehooves about, I turned to look back at my friend. “I think it would have been better if they’d just started firing.” A horrible thing to say, but everypony’s nerves were starting to fray and if this went on, somepony was going to do something stupid.

“Ah reckon so, but they know they got us, dead ta rights, and there ain’t much we can do bout it,” he said, reaching for a canteen on his pack. Unscrewing the top, he offered it to me first, before taking a drink himself. Water was nearly gone. Something stupid was likely to happen very soon and I had a feeling I’d have something to do with it.

“They do, I just wish...” my words died in my throat as I heard a shout from outside the barn. At first I thought it had been directed at somepony with the gang, but a second later the same voice yelled out again, only louder and clearly intended for us.

“Hey! Ya’ll in th’ barn!”

Stone and I shared a look before I turned away from my position near the door frame and moved quickly towards the center of the doors. Carrion, who had been keeping watch at the other end of the front of the barn, quickly lifted his assault rifle up and looked over towards me. I nodded my head, and the aura of his magic surrounded the wooden board keeping the doors shut. He easily lifted it from its twin groves and laid it gently down on the floor nearby. As Carrion turned back towards me, I reached out a hoof to grip the right side doors handle and gently push it open slowly.

Metal hinges groaned from disuse and rust as the large wooden door slowly swung outwards, opening a narrow space just large enough for a single pony to step through and allow what dim light escaped the overhead clouds to enter. It also allowed a breeze to sweep past my hooves and rustle the manes of the sweat-soaked ponies huddled up inside the barn. It felt rather pleasant, despite being mostly warm air.

I edged closer to the opening, pressing myself up against the door as I eyed the nearby buildings. One was two stories tall and would make a good spot to snipe from. Sure enough, a red dot appeared in my E.F.S. in that direction. This was a bad idea...

“What do you want!?” I yelled back at the unseen speaker, eyes fixed on the second floor of the nearby building. Like much of the other buildings I’d seen in town, the majority of its windows were blown out. But the light coming down from overhead cast whatever lay beyond those empty window frames in shadows.

“And who do Ah have th’ pleasure of speakin’ with?” the voice responded. It belonged to a stallion, that much was clear. The voice was deep, rough, with the same accent as everypony else had in the area. But at the same time, it was polite, even friendly sounding.

“My name’s Shadow, and who am I speaking with?” I called back, beads of sweat running down my face and neck. My blue Stable Jumpsuit was soaked, and strands of my mane and tail clung to my body.

“Th’ Marshall?” The voice sounded somewhat pleased, and I frowned. Great, now even the ponies trying to kill me called me that. “As for myself, my names Buford

“What’d you want?” I called out again, glancing away from the building I’d been staring at to look across the open street. I couldn’t see anything, nor did I see anything on my E.F.S. in that direction, beyond the single red dot.

“Ah’ve a proposition for ya,” Buford said. A glance to the cluster of red dots indicated he was somewhere to my left, likely in the street, “We’re both reasonable stallions, and Ah don’t see why we can’t come ta some sort of agreement. Why don’t ya step out into th’ open so we can more easily speak.”

“And give your goons an easy shot on us? In your dreams, pretty boy!” Wild called out from the loft, and I snorted a bit.

“Ah, the fiery pegasus! Ya make a good point, mah dear.” A moment later I heard hooves clap, the sound echoing through the narrow streets of the town. Movement from my left caused me to jerk back towards the door before I saw a pony standing in one of the dark windows, a rifle pointed towards me slowly lowering towards the floor.

Arching a brow, I glanced back inside towards Stone, who’d edged closer to me and seemed as surprised as I.

“Ah assure ya, my good Marshall, no harm will come ta ya while we’re speakin’. So please, feel free ta step out a bit. Yer lovely winged friend has myself and my ponies covered from her spot.”

Stone frowned and narrowed his eyes at the unseen speaker, either at what he was suggesting or his comments directed towards Wild. Looking back to me before vehemently shaking his head Stone mouthed the word ‘no’. I glanced from him to the sniper and his lowered rifle. There seemed to be little choice if I was to find out what this Buford character wanted. I turned back to Stone and shook my head back before waving him to take a couple steps away from the door.

He frowned and sighed before finally backing up a few steps. Once he was out sight I reached a hoof out to slowly open the door a bit more, as it creaked open I moved out into the open. At once I got the feeling of being stared out by multiple eyes, and my ears twitched to some unheard sound. The faint breeze that had blown through the doorway picked up, and soothed my damp body as I exposed myself for any number of bullets.

“That’s better. Ah find it easier ta speak with a stallion when Ah can look ’im in th’ eye.” I followed the sound of the voice back to its owner and the collection of red dots I’d seen off to my right. My eyes settled upon five black armored stallion, one of which I recognized as the large black stallion I’d seen twice, armed with an impressively large rifle. The other four I’d never seen, at least not as far as I could remember. Of the others, only two stood out from the group.

The first of them bore a strong resemblance to the larger stallion I’d seen in Tombstone’s bank, as well as here in Oddwick. He was about my height and build, with a solid black coat and orange reddish mane. Like the larger pony beside him, he wore a battered brown trench coat over much of his upper torso, though I could see hints of combat armor underneath. A wide brimmed hat covered his mane, keeping it from his eyes, and a spiral horn rose up from a small hole in the hats front. The unicorn wore a large revolver that bore a similar look to my own. This must have been Buford Blackhoof, and the larger stallion with the rifle must have been his brother. The Blackhoof Brothers, leaders of this little gang.

The other pony stood out simply due to his clothing and armor, or rather, the lack of armor. Instead of combat armor, he wore a rather clean looking suit over his chest, looking as if it had been freshly cleaned and pressed. It was black, helping him blend in somewhat with the ponies around him. A red tie with a white collar completed the businesspony look, which was completely at odds with our surroundings. As he shifted his weight on his hooves I could see the hint of a hidden pistol under his jacket, within easy reach of his hoof should it need to be drawn. The rest of the stallion was as odd as his choice in clothing, with a clean dark-gray mane and tail, the mane smoothed back between his ears, a pair of rather disturbing red eyes, and a near midnight blue coat. He looked me over for a moment, before appearing bored and reaching for a pack of smokes in his jacket’s front pocket. However, as he turned to light the small white paper I got a look at his flank, and the shackled pony he had as a cutie mark.

Slaver...

“Alright, what was it you wanted to talk about?” I said as I tore my eyes away from the well dressed pony and turned them instead to the armed and armored stallions nearby. Buford smiled, flashing a mouth full of perfect white teeth.

“As ya might have noticed, we both have a problem, a problem we can help each other with, Ah reckon.” His horn began to glow a light violet as he lifted his hat from his head, and from a pocket of his trench coat he pulled out a cloth and wiped the sweat from his brow before lowering his hat back into place.

“And how would we be doing that?” I asked, arching a brow at Buford and his calm demeanor. He held all the cards at the moment, or so it seemed.

“Ah was thinkin’ of a simple trade. We’ll let you and all th’ ponies in th’ barn go. Yer large slow friend with my taste in hats, the plucky young colt with his unique side arms, and of course the lovely, sweet little pegasus.”

Well, it seemed he knew all about us, with the exception of one. He hadn’t mentioned Carrion. But then, if I was right and he had gotten his information from that bastard Roy, then perhaps that was something we could use.

“In return for allowing yer merry little band of miscreants ta leave unharmed, ya tell us what we need ta open th’ bank vault’s door. We get ta keep all the goods and ya get ta keep all th’ little ones and their mothers among th’ livin’.” His smile never wavered as he spoke, which only made me want to shove my hoof into his face and ruin that perfect set of teeth of his.

Still, his request proved that Balefire’s tinkering had indeed sealed the vault up tight, and would resist the Blackhoofs attempts to get it open. It also presented a problem: we had no way of knowing how to get it open, beyond allowing Balefire to attempt to break through the locks. Leaving the dark green unicorn with the gang was out of the question. In fact, even if we had a way of telling them how to open it, they’d likely simply gun us down as we attempted to leave. The only reason they hadn’t thus far was because they thought we could open the door.

“How do we know you’d keep your word?” I asked. It was the most obvious question, and it got the most obvious answer.

“Well, ya see ya really don’t. Yer just gonna have ta trust me on that.” That same smug smile remained fixed to his snout as he stood beside his brother and fellow gang members. I merely snorted and shook my head, to which he actually laughed, “Ah suppose that it’s askin’ a might much from ya’ll, but then, what other choice ya got?”

Trust. Trust ponies who dress up as raiders, lie to innocent ponies and use them to attack a well defended town and steal their food? Well, that made the choices so much easier. Still... this could buy us a bit of time.

“I’ll have to speak with the others about this, of course. Something like this can’t be decided quickly.” He likely knew I was playing for time by saying this, but I still had to try. The more time we had, the better chance we had of figuring someway out of this mess.

“Of course, but not too long...” Buford’s smile seemed to widen a bit, as he mulled this request over. “An hour should be more than enough for ya’ll ta decide.” He waved a hoof to his followers before turning to his brother. “One hour. Any more than that... well, Ah’m sure ya can figure that one out yerself.”

“Yeah, I suppose I can,” I said through my teeth, eyes narrowed at the unicorn as he turned his back on me and calmly trotted away. His brother lingered, eyes fixed on me, before he too turned and followed after his shorter sibling.

With little else to say, I backed towards the barn’s still open door and slipped inside. The door shut quickly behind me as Stone hauled on the handle. The dim lighting inside took on a soft glow of unicorn magic as Carrion lifted the board back in place.

“Well, that went well,” Carrion said wryly, turning to look at me once he was sure the door was secure. The comment earned a snort from my large friend.

“That’s an understatement, Ah reckon.” Stone said, lowering his rifle in his hooves and giving the door a look. “He’s got no intention of just lettin’ us walk outta here.”

“Ya think?” Wild called out from the loft, her red mane poking over the edge of the second floor, blue eyes going from Stone to me.

“You were right with what they were planning to do to the settlers. I think he has a slaver out there with them.” Wild simply nodded and jerked her head towards the door and the ponies outside it.

“Shackles. I saw ’im standing behind the Blackhoofs. Nasty fucker works for the top slaver boss out of New Haygas, Sodom, and his Guilty Pleasure Slavers.” I arched a brow at the leader’s name and the name of his group. Charming. “Shackles is his right hoof, a nasty son of a bitch who’s killed or broken more ponies than all the raiders in Equestria put together,” Wild said, ears laid back as she spoke.

“Ya already had a run-in with a couple of th’ group. That’s who was chasin’ my kin and Ah across the desert back ‘round Crossroads,” Stone said, his own ears laid back as he ground his fore hooves into the floor. “Celestia-damned slavers...” an orange hoof lifted to gently rub over Stone’s armored shoulder.

“If he’s here, then Buford’s planning on selling the mares and foals to him.” Wild looked away from Stone to me. “We can’t let that happen, Shadow... it’d be better to shoot them ourselves.”

I looked over my friends slowly, all waiting for me to come up with something. Some way to get us out of this mess, a mess I’d gotten us into in the first place. But like before, there seemed to be no way to avoid what was outside the barn. No way to slip away unnoticed. There didn’t seem to be a way out that did not involve going through the Blackhoofs outside, and with those snipers, that’d be a short fight. My eyes wandered over each of my friends’ faces before stopping upon Carrion’s. The one pony Buford had no idea was here. But what good would that do? The second anypony set hoof outside the barn every pair of eyes would be fixed upon them. Suddenly, I went still and sat down upon the floor.

Everypony would be focusing on whoever set hoof outside the barn...

Wild and Stone both noticed the sudden change in my body language, and shared a look. I, however, was looking off towards the left side of the barn, and the wall. The boards had resisted wind, rain, and time, but I doubt they’d so easily resist being pried off. Wouldn’t need to be a large hole to start, just so we could talk...

“Shadow? What’s the plan?” Wild asked, head tilted to the side.

“I think I might have an idea, but first I need to have a talk with Mabel and see how she feels about letting a pony get really close,” I responded, sitting up from the floor. Turning away from my confused looking friends, I looked towards the bundle of hay that hid the mares and wounded ponies, looking for Willow. We only had an hour to make this happen.

We only had an hour to save a barn full of innocent lives...

Our time was nearly up, both figuratively and literally, as I rose from my seat near the door and trotted towards it. Reaching up with a hoof, I shoved the wooden beam that held it closed out of its hooks and allowed it to drop to the wooden floor with a loud thunk. Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes and whispered a prayer to Celestia and Luna (and whoever else might have been up there) before pushing the double doors open with my fore hooves. With a groan of aged wood and rusty hinges, the barn doors slowly swung open, spilling the dim afternoon (or was it still morning? I’d have to get Stone to explain that to me if we survived the next several minutes) light into the musty old building.

Behind me, I heard movement as mares and foals peered out from behind their makeshift hay wall. Willow’s green eyes were fixed on me as she held her daughter close to her chest, while at least six other pairs of brightly colored small eyes looked towards me as they hung near their mothers. I offered them all a smile before turning away to stare out past the doors and into the dusty street beyond. My E.F.S. glowed with eleven red dots, arranged in a rough circle in front of the barn, all of them with their attention and weapons pointed towards the now wide-open doors.

The dirt outside the doors whipped up as a breeze blew through the narrow, empty streets of Oddwick, blowing a warm burst of air into the barn, where the nearness of so many bodies alongside the day’s heat had turned the barn into a sauna. I inhaled the fresh air deeply, before letting it out in a relaxed sigh. It was out of my hooves now. Either this plan I’d set into motion would work and we’d all walk out of here alive... or this would be where my story and life ended, along with those of many others.

I pawed heavily at the wooden floor boards as the thought of defeat lingered inside my mind. Well, if this was to be where I meet my end, I’d make it count for something. Reaching my left forehoof up, I adjusted my worn and dirt-covered marshall’s hat, settling it more firmly upon my head. Lowering the hoof, I checked my weapons. Both Luna's Ruse and the Raging Buck were armed and ready for the coming fight, for either way, there would be a fight. There was no way this could end any other way.

Hoofsteps from nearby caught my ears and I glanced over to see Stonehoof step up beside me, the stallion’s rifle resting across his neck and chest, within easy reach of his mouth. His battered and mismatched armor rattled a bit as he came to a halt beside me, having been freshly repaired and cleaned. I could make out a few faded patches and stickers upon the curved surface of his shoulder guards. Had they belonged to the original owner of the armor, or had they been something from Stone’s past? Warm green eyes glanced over to me and he offered me a friendly smile and nod. As I had done a moment before, he reached up to fix his own cowpony hat a bit.

Wild arrived a second later, in a flash of orange feathers and her long red tail. The pegasus mare settled down beside her coltfriend, brushing a wingtip along his flanks as they folded back across her sides. The twin barrels of her battlesaddle’s rifles extended into place, ready to fire. The firing bit was lowered, but it would only take a quick jerk of her head to close her mouth around it and open fire. Wild glanced from Stone to me, and her patented smirk quickly spread across her snout. Her stormy blue eyes twinkled with mischief before she turned and gifted her stallion a quick peck on the cheek, turning Storm’s normally gray-furred face a slight red hue.

Despite what we were walking out into, I smirked and shook my head at the couple's antics. After a moment I stopped and glanced to my left as I heard another approach.

The dark green form of Balefire stepped up beside me, his black mane retaining bits of hay from where he’d been laying for the past few hours. His side was bandaged, but healed. Despite Sunny’s objections, the unicorn had refused to miss out on this, saying that if there was going to be a fight, he’d be on his hooves to face it, and that laying on his back was for spending time with lovely mares. The comment had caused a number of single mares to blush, and a few mothers to swat their older daughters for said blush. The twin revolvers he carried were tucked away in their holsters on either side of his forelegs. The weapons’ ivory and ebony grips sparkled from a fresh cleaning he’d given them to help pass the time. He pranced in place for a moment; whether nerves, energy, or eagerness to get to grips with our foes, I couldn’t tell. For a moment, his red eyes passed from Stone to me, then back again, before he smirked and turned away.

“Suppose if I’m going to be riding with you guys, I’ll have to find myself a swanky hat too.”

“Can we get this over with sometime soon? I’d like to get back to Tombstone before somepony else gets Stone and mine’s room. That bed was quite soft and large, and we’ll be needing to make up for lost time.” Stone snorted softly at Wild’s words, but smiled despite it.

Chuckling, I nodded my head and looked away from my friends and back into the empty street, a small cloud of dust blowing up across it. One way or another...

“Lets get this over with,” I agreed, and took a step towards the open doors, my three friends following closely behind.

As we crossed the threshhold out into the open street, I felt the tug of the light breeze flow across my damp mane and tail, rustling what exposed fur I had on my flanks and lower back. It felt good, relaxing even. But then the harsh reality of what was about to happen came crashing back down, along with the sight before us. Six heavily-armed ponies stood where they’d been an hour before, manes and trenchcoats blowing in that same relaxing breeze. It was Buford and his large brother, along with four other stallions. Like my friends, their weapons were within easy reach, rifles across chests, holstered weapons exposed from under their thick coats. On either side of the group were more members of the Blackhoof gang. Standing in the doorways, windows, or upon the roofs of buildings, the gang members watched as four ponies trotted out to meet them.

The only sound to disturb the moment was of our hooves treading upon gravel, the creak of the old buildings in the wind, and the cry of a few predatory birds circling overhead, perhaps drawn to the scene by thoughts of an easy meal.

As we closed the distance to the central group of ponies, I locked eyes with Buford, whose smirk remained fixed to his face. The black-hearted stallion’s cold blue eyes seemed intent on staring me down, but I was in no mood to back down, unwilling to show any signs of weakness in front of this monster. His grin grew, as if he could read my thoughts or intents. Finally, after we were no less than a dozen paces away, he held up a hoof for us to stop. For a moment, nopony said a word, and the silence settled across Oddwick once more. It was Buford who finally broke that silence.

“My, my, almost ta th’ second of th’ hour deadline. Ah must say, Marshall, yer quite th’ pony. If what Ah’ve heard about ya has any truth, then yer a rare breed of pony.”

“Thanks.” I reached up and tipped my hat to the stallion, which had the desired effect of surprising him. He quickly recovered, though his smile seemed to waver ever so slightly.

“It was hardly meant as a compliment, Marshall. Bein’ from a Stable yerself, ya don’t exactly know how th’ world really works beyond yer little grey walls. But th’ world ya no doubt read about in yer school books is long dead, never ta return. Ponies like you soon figured that out, most as they take their final breaths.” Buford waved a hoof before him and snorted, his smile once more returning. “However, that is not what we are here ta discuss.”

“No, we’re not. We’re here to give you our answer to your offer.”

“And since there are four of ya’ll to deliver an answer, Ah can rightly figure what that answer might be.”

“I suppose you do.”

“Ya know ya don’t have a chance in hell, right?” he asked pleasantly, teeth flashing in the light as the ponies around him shifted their weight. Within seconds weapons would be drawn, bullets would fly, and blood would be spilled.

“I dunno...” I said, my own smile growing as something caught my eye off to my left, near the second floor window, before I returned my attention to Buford and his gang. “... I’ve never really had a very good chance since coming to the surface. That hasn’t stopped me yet.”

Overhead, buzzards circled, their shadows passing across our faces as they waited for the coming feast. The wind moaned softly through the streets as Buford and I stared into one another’s eyes. The glow from his horn was all the warning I had, as he began to draw his revolver from his holster. Beside him, his brother brought his rifle up from where it had been pointed at the street. The ponies around them brought their own assortment of weapons to bare.

As I saw the glow, my own mouth went for the firing bit of Luna’s Ruse...

...one way or another, this would end in bloodshed.

Welcome to Level 14!

Perk Added: Action Pony: Each level of Action Pony gives you an additional AP to spend every combat turn. You can use these generic AP’s on any task. You're gonna need ’em...

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.