The hellish scene before me was lit briefly as a bolt of lightning arced from one cloud to another overhead. During the brief flash of light, I saw the dark dead trees of the Dead Forest. Their blackened trunks surrounded me on all sides, slowing my escape if I was to make one. Standing among them were dozens of feral ghouls, their glowing green eyes reflecting the light as it passed across their horribly scarred and rotting faces. The twisted remains of the raider sat a few feet away, exposed ribs and organs lit up by the bolt of lightning. His blood stained the face of the feral ghoul that I now stood before.

In that brief flash of light, I also took note of the fact that he was the only ghoul to once more be looking towards me. The others were still focused on the now silent raider’s body. If I was going to attempt escape and avoid sharing his fate, now would be my best chance of doing so. Carefully, lest any sudden movements attract more attention, I lowered my head towards Luna’s Ruse which still rested against my chest. The ghouls’ glowing orbs followed my slow movements with little interest, it seemed, at least until he noticed the combat shotgun my muzzle was nearing.

His tattered ears snapped back against his skull and his glowing orbs narrowed upon me as he growled at my hostile move. Now, a normal pony’s reaction (especially after seeing what had become of the raider attempting something similar) would be to either freeze up or make a mad grab for his weapon. To swing it as quickly upright as one could and snap off a hasty shot into the face of the monster standing before them in a desperate bid to continue living. I did neither of those two things however… and to be honest I am not sure why I did what I did. I paused my movement and watched the ghoul, slightly confused at it’s odd reaction. He made no other move to attack me as other ghouls I’d encountered had. Instead he simply remained standing where he was with his eyes fixed upon the weapon and growling. It was not a reaction I had seen in a feral before. I’m not sure what I was thinking, but I slowly began lifting my head away from Luna’s Ruse.

Once more, the ghoul’s reaction surprised me. As my muzzle lifted away from my weapon, he began to visibly relax. His tattered ears swiveled back upright and his eyes opened once more to their full glowing size. I was further surprised to notice that we’d gathered a larger audience. A number of his fellow feral ghouls had approached me, drawn no doubt by the sound of his growling. Despite the blood dripping from their ruined faces, their ears were perked upright in a relaxed manner and they appeared shockingly docile… so unlike the ghouls I’d fought in Kanter City’s tunnels… or heard stories of from my friends. They almost seemed still alive. Something Spirit had said to me yesterday while walking entered my thoughts as I stood looking over the ferals around me.

“My father believed that showing a bit of kindness could do more good than all of the weapons in the world... ponies are far too quick to distrust someone new or if they do not look like themselves, to go for their weapons when presented with a problem.”

Could it really be as simple as that? The raider had been attacked only after he had fired upon the ferals. Prior to that, they had been content to simply stare at us. While it had been a matter of mere seconds from the time we’d spotted them to the time he’d fired, it was more time than any other ghoul I’d encountered had given me. I looked over the ferals once more with Spirit’s words in mind, looking more closely at the rotting bodies of ponies long since dead… but... ponies nonetheless. Unlike raiders, these ponies had had no choice in what they would become. They had simply been the unlucky few who survived the balefire bombing, though their bodies broke and their minds quickly followed. The harder and longer I looked, the more I could see past the decaying features and see the ponies they had once been.

Standing to my right was a badly burned mare, a little shorter than me in height. Near featherless wings were tucked to her sides and I doubted they could even move by the looks of them. Her cutie mark was mostly gone, along with the coat and flesh it had covered, but there was the hint of a cloud with a wing upon her flank. Across her back were the remains of a pair of saddlebags, larger than what one might typically wear. They were covered in filth and ripped to the point of being useless. Upon the side facing towards me was a badly rusted metal pin. Just barely visible in the dim light, I could make out the words ‘Equestria Mail’. She had been a mailpony. She likely had fled with others away from the cities as the bombing had started.

Turning my head a bit, I saw an earth pony stallion standing just to the mailmare’s left and just before me. It was the same one who had first noticed me when I’d attempted to rise up from the ground to escape. I had been so focused on his horrible wounds that I hadn’t noticed that what I had mistaken for his hide was in fact the remains of a suit of some sort. There appeared to be a hint of a tie about his neck, but like the rest of his clothing it had all but rotted to his body. His cutie mark was of a book and quill. A business pony of some sort? An accountant perhaps?

Another pony shuffled about just behind him. With a badly cracked horn rising up from her maneless forehead, the mare still wore bits of an armored vest and shoulder pads upon her pitifully thin frame. A pair of rusted dog tags rattled about from around her badly damaged throat and lower jaw. Though it was impossible to tell what colors they had been, I was sure they would have been olive green and bore symbols of the Equestrian Military. Sadly, I wondered if it would be anypony Carrion would know...

The more I looked, the more the feral herd was becoming more… well… pony. While the frightening appearance of the ferals remained, I no longer saw them as simply one of the monsters of the Wasteland. The two ghouls standing side by side, with matching tarnished metal rings upon their horns, reminded me of the wedding rings my parents had worn… had they been a married couple who’d fled together? A short, round stallion hobbled about the herd, missing one of his forelegs completely. The former earth pony had a work belt wrapped about his barrel, though it was devoid of tools. There was a filly still carrying her lunch box in her mouth, the lid long since having rusted off. The straps of her saddlebags barely clung to her decaying hide. The bags themselves looked to have fallen off years ago.

As I stood watching them move about or simply stare back at me, I saw that whatever personality they had once had in life was no longer with them. Their eyes may have glowed brightly in the darkness, but there was no true intelligence there. Still… they were not quite as feral as those I’d seen and fought before… somewhere deep within them there was still a bit of the pony they had been. Not much… but just enough to know when somepony was threatening them with harm… but would they let me leave? As interesting as it was, I couldn’t stay here… my Pipbuck made that abundantly clear. I was still injured from my fight with the raiders, and my eye was once more giving me issues. However, it was not from blood flowing into it… it was just getting somewhat fuzzy, which was worrying...

Rain continued to fall upon us, but I ignored it as the ghouls and I stood seemingly at a stand off. For their part, they seemed simply content to just mill about the clearing. I was unsure if they’d attack me if I attempted to move past them.

I was about to finally see just how much they would allow when a voice shouted out from somewhere behind me. The ghouls hardly seemed to notice, though I’ll admit I bit back the urge to swear loudly at the sudden sound. Glowing green eyes stared past me at whoever was speaking.

“What in tarnation is goin’ on out here? Ya’ll are suppose ta be guardin’ the perimeter, not out here all slacked jawed! Celestia’s tits, what if the zebra attacked us again!? Private Jitterbug report!”

As quickly as I dared, I turned to see who this newcomer was that had approached the herd of ferals with little fear by the sounds of his voice. The answer to that was really quite simple as I discovered while he trotted towards us. It was another ghoul, though he seemed to be far less feral in mannerisms than those around me. He also seemed to have stepped from a cave set back in the side of the hill I’d recently tumbled down.

He’d been an earth pony, or still was judging by the spark of life his glowing green eyes still held within them. As it was with most every ghoul I’d ever encountered to date, it was nearly impossible to tell what color his coat and mane had been thanks to years of decay and, in his case, filth. However, there still seemed to be just enough for me to get an idea of what he’d looked like before the balefire bombs. What little I could see that was not sickly brown or black had a hint of tan or coppery red. His mane was a bit easier to make out, as several long strands of black hair remained upon his head as well as his tail. Where his fellow ghouls gathered around us wore little more than scraps of their former lives, he was dressed fully, though his clothes were only in slightly better condition than the others; bearing clear signs of age and neglect.

Much of his body was hidden beneath what had been a rather nice dark brown trench coat; the edges now tattered with a number of large holes worn along its edges and dark stains all across the front of the coat, as well as down the sleeves for his forelegs. The sleeves were almost black in color and reminded me of the ancient dried blood stains I’d seen in ruined buildings all throughout the Wasteland. Beneath the trench coat, he wore a very familiar style of black armor across his upper body. Through the holes of the sleeves, I could see it also covered his forelegs as well. It was the sort worn by Equestria’s law enforcement ponies shortly before the war had started as well as the type given to the Stables for their Security force. It was very similar to my own in fact. The style had never really changed overly much through the years, though it looked more heavily worn like what Carrion wore. Across his chest was a light brown belt which held a single holstered revolver. Unlike the rest of him, the weapon looked very well cared for… along with the silver star pinned to his breast plate. It too was very similar to my own… in fact, it was an exact match with the words, “Equestrian Marshal”, written boldly across the top.

I blinked in surprise at seeing an actual Equestrian Marshal before me… in the flesh… sort of. As I stood shocked, the stranger had stopped before one of the ghouls who’d been milling about near me. She was a unicorn mare wearing the remains of an Equestrian Army uniform and armor, who was staring dully towards him. The stranger was about to ask the feral another question, for I assumed she had been the Private Jitterbug he’d yelled for. However, his eyes quickly shifted past her face and fixed upon me as I sat just behind the mare.

His glowing orbs widened as he noticed the badge I wore and he took a careful step around the feral mare. I saw his lips moving, but no sound was coming from them as he approached me slowly. He seemed as surprised as I was as he came to a halt a few steps away from me. His eyes finally rose from the badge to look me in the face. At last, he seemed to find his voice, reminding me heavily of Carrion’s gravelly tone. Though it had a slight accent to it, similar to those ponies I’d encountered across the Equestrian west… no, not quite… it sounded slightly different.

“Thank th’ stars… Ah… Ah was beginnin’ ta wander if anypony else survived th’ zebra attack.” His stunned look turned to one of joy as he reached out a hoof towards me. I lifted my right and shook the other Marshall’s own… no… he was the real thing… I just wore the badge. “It’s been weeks since th’ attack and we was beginnin’ ta lose hope of ever seenin’ anypony else from beyond th’ forest. A few was thinkin’ we was it...”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died in my throat as I processed what he’d just said. It had been weeks since the attack… attacks by the zebra… anypony survived the attack. Was he speaking of the bombings? Those had happened longer than a week ago… perhaps he was speaking of a more recent attack, by raiders or something? As I looked at his face, I began doubting that’s what he meant. I then remembered reading something in the welcoming guide I’d received about San Ponsisco weeks ago, as well as hearing Carrion once mention something similar.

Some ghouls simply couldn’t handle what had become of them, the state of living in a dead body and most became ferals as their minds broke. It could happen the moment they awoke to see what they’d become, or weeks or even years later. Some, however, simply slipped into their own little world… reliving events that had occurred before the war, or minutes before their deaths. They simply refused to believe what they saw around them and thought it had been only hours instead of years. Often times, they would wander about the site of their former home or work and see it as it had been. The Welcome Guide had warned new citizens of the city to beware of any ghoul displaying these traits. If somepony ever showed them the truth, or if they ever realized it themselves, they would be driven insane by the knowledge and revert into savage ferals that lashed out at anypony nearby. Luckily for me, the ghouled Marshall took my lack of a response as something other than confusion.

“Landsakes, ya look a might bit rough there. Had a run in with more of them zebra infiltrators Ah take it?” he asked, eyes shifting from me to the mess of torn flesh behind me that had been the raider. The ghoul wrinkled his muzzle at the sight and spat towards the remains. “Bastards been roamin’ th’ highway lookin’ for us for th’ past couple days now.”

I suppose that explained the missing supply caravans to Old Oaks… they’d likely come across groups of feral ghouls wandering the forest and, given the raider’s reaction and what I’d almost done… they’d likely opened fire. I really couldn’t fault them for it. After all, I’d done the same thing in Kanter City. Once the ferals’ anger had been raised, the caravans had likely been swarmed by more than they could easily handle and were overwhelmed. I glanced to the raider’s remains and winced. Not a good way to die… but then, there wasn’t ever a good way to die I suppose.

“Come on then, let’s get ya inside th’ cave and patched up ‘fore infection settles in,” the armored ghoul was saying as he moved over to stand beside me. He offered a shoulder for me to lean on.

I nodded my head once to the suggestion before shaking my head to the offer of help walking, trying to indicating I could walk on my own without speaking. I didn’t trust myself to speak just yet, until I could figure out what to do about the situation I’d found myself in… I was also attempting not to breath a whole lot near him. The smell coming off him was very overpowering and I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes as it assaulted my nose.

He merely snorted and shrugged a bit before turning back to the ferals to issue more orders to them, of all things. “Jitterbug, get that corpse outta th’ camp ‘fore th’ younin’s see it. Miss Mint Julep won’t take kindly if th’ foals start havin’ nightmares again.”

Foals? They had more foals here than just the one? Sweet Celestia… one was more than bad enough… but more?

As I began making my way towards the entrance to the cave, I looked back to see the ferals’ reactions to his commands. I expected they’d simply continue to stare blankly at him as they had me. However, much to my further surprise, the ghoul he’d spoken to was dragging the remains of the raider away from the clearing with her mouth. A few of the others had wandered off to stand near the edge of the clearing. While it wasn’t the most coordinated attempt at keeping watch… it did appear to be what they were doing. I glanced over to the ghoul walking beside me and wondered how he was controlling them… the stories I’d heard had mentioned that ferals would largely leave a normal ghoul alone so long as he or she didn’t attack them. Still… to see it happening was unexpected and to see them actually following his orders was something else. The Marshal noticed my look back and must have thought I was worried about it as he spoke towards me.

“Ah know they’re just civilians and not warriors, but they’ve had a crash course in fightin’ recently. Nothin’ will sneak up on us, Ah promise ya.” His glowing eyes went to my right foreleg and he cocked his head a bit. “Still, I’m a mite glad that fancy gizmo of yer’s stopped that damnable racket it was makin’. Don’t need makin’ findin’ us any easier. What’s th’ matter with it, broke?”

I arched a brow in confusion to the ghoul and, in response, he motioned with his snout once more towards my right foreleg and my Pipbuck… which was no longer clicking madly with radiation warnings. I stumbled a bit in surprise and looked down to the soft glowing green display. The radiation meter had indeed stopped it’s steady rise and was holding at a still unhealthy level. However, it had stopped rising… and what's more, the screen was not flickering as it had since entering the Dead Forest. I noticed that even the E.F.S. had returned. I took a quick check to see just what my guide registered as. Green… but he was the only one.

That’s not to say the horde of ghouls outside the cave registered as red… they just didn’t register at all. I looked from the green screen of my Pipbuck to the rock walls of the cave and tilted my head. Stone had mentioned areas free of radiation within the forest. I guess I’d stumbled upon one. That’s not to say the cave wasn’t radioactive… very little in the Wasteland was free completely of the ever present danger of radiation. It’s just the cave wasn’t as soaked in the deadly stuff as the forest itself, likely due in part to the lack of ash and trees which had soaked up vast amounts of the stuff. That might also explain why the horde of ferals didn’t show up on my E.F.S. The radiation beyond the cave’s entrance was too high for it to pick them up. A fact which was validated a moment later as I checked my map. It showed the cave I was in now with the exit marked, but nothing else. Attempting to pull up a map of the outside proved pointless and simply went to static.

“Don’t ya worry none, we’re safe enough here in th’ forest. Th’ zebras don’t normally try comin’ this far in,” the ghoul marshall said as I finished checking my Pipbuck. “Now, if’n ya excuse me, Ah’ll go fetch our resident doc. She’s likely in th’ back with th’ foals.” With that, he increased his pace and trotted off deeper into the cave, calling out as he went, “Miss Mint Julep, we got us a guest in need of yer tender care.”

The strange ghoul disappeared into the darkness of what appeared to be another opening in the cave room wall. Perhaps it led deeper into the cave itself or a side chamber? With a tired and sore groan, I allowed myself to finally sit down upon the surprisingly smooth stone floor and wait for this ‘doctor’ to appear. Outside I could hear the steady patter of water as the rain continued to fall. As I waited, I began scanning the dimly lit room I’d entered to pass the time, and to get a better idea of just where I was.

The light in the room came from two badly dented camping lanterns. The spark batteries that powered them were likely well past their prime, but both continued to faithfully shine. They’d been left sitting upon chest high stone slabs attached to the floor of the cave. The slabs appeared to be makeshift tables, judging by the odds and ends scattered atop them. The lanterns’ off-white glow cast hundreds of shadows all across the room’s rough, uneven walls. That meant this must have been a natural cave and not one of pony make. It was about seven feet in height from the smooth floor to the very jagged ceiling, and about as large as my old room back in the Stable from wall to wall. The jagged spikes of rock that clung to the ceiling were called stalagmites, I think?

There was more than just the common wasteland junk and a scattering of loose stones within the cave. Along the walls were a number of wooden and metal crates stacked rather neatly. Those near the back of the cave and at the bottom of the stacks appeared to be quite old. The wooden crates showed signs of rot and surprisingly even a bit of black mold. However, there was a good number that appeared in far better shape. Not for the first time, a bad feeling began to settle over me as I stared more closely at those newer containers. My earlier thoughts on the fate of the missing caravans now seemed correct. A quick glance back towards where the ghoul Marshal had disappeared showed no signs of his return. I decided to take a better look at one of the closer crates.

Rising from my haunches, I quickly and quietly trotted towards the nearest stack. Luckily the heavy rainfall outside, along with my hooves being filled with a mixer of ash and water, kept my hoofsteps largely silent. Reaching the shipping crates without issue, I noticed that the lid of the top most case had already been pried off before and hastily replaced. It took little effort to lift the lid enough to see what had been carefully packed inside: pre war medical supplies, the three pink butterflies were a dead giveaway as to what the bags contained. Among the medical kits were more recently made bandages and drugs for various wasteland illnesses. All of them had been no doubt meant for the ponies of Old Oaks; supplies that could have prevented the disaster that had befallen them…

The sound of a two sets of hoof steps coming from behind me caught my ears and I hurriedly lowered the lid back into place before turning away from the crate. I didn’t bother attempting to return to where I’d been, there was simply no time. Sure enough, I’d barely settled myself back down when two shadowy pony shapes appeared within the darkened hole in the stone wall. The first to step into the lanterns’ light was the ghoul Marshal who, judging by his facial expression, noticed where I’d gotten. Behind him trotted another ghoul, most likely the doctor he’d mentioned. Like the Marshal, she seemed far more similar to Carrion than the ferals outside the cave. She still wore clothing, though what was left of it was faded and threadbare. As her own glowing eyes landed upon me, I noticed how they held that same spark of intelligence. She seemed genuinely surprised to see me, but after a few moments she smiled.

She likely had been a slender built unicorn before the bombing as she now appeared painfully thin. However, if not for the clear signs of decay scattered about her body, she’d still be quite a beautiful mare. Another thing that stood out immediately about her was how she carried herself. She walked with far more grace than any pony I’d ever seen. Perhaps she had been somepony of importance before the war… a noble’s daughter, or a noble herself? I’d read that most noble families were largely made up of unicorns, so I suppose it could be possible. Much of her mane still remained upon her head and neck. Despite the presence of ash, I could easily see it still had retained it’s soft blue color. She had it tied back into a ponytail, likely to keep it out of her eyes as she worked on patients. At the moment though, it appeared to be coming undone with stiff looking strands clinging to the grey coat of her neck and forehead.

Like every other ghoul I’d seen, there were a number of wounds across her body, exposing muscle and even bone in places. Life in the wasteland even for the undead seemed quite harsh. However, much of her body was hidden by the no longer quite so white top she wore. Three badly stained pink butterflies on the shoulder and breast were still easily seen on it. Across her back was a pair of medical saddlebags bearing the same symbol and looking in as rough shape as their owner. She paused for only a moment in the doorway to the cave as she smiled brightly towards me before she began trotting towards me.

“Well landsakes, Bronzestar here was just tellin’ me bout us havin’ ourselves a little ol’ visitor to our home away from home,” she spoke as she approached me. Her accent reminded me heavily of the movie stars in those old romance movies Ebony had made me watch with her, most of those taking place within the far south. “Ah do declare Ah’ll hav’ ta apologize ta th’ big brute later for callin’ him a liar.” Her smile widened as she passed by the Marshal, Bronzestar it seemed, as he cleared his throat a bit.

“But wherever are my manners? My granny’d tan my backside for forgottin’ ta introduce myself,” she rambled on, ears wilted slightly to the side in embarrassment over the failed introductions. With a last couple cantering steps, she came to a halt before me and placed a hoof upon her chest, tilting her head towards me. “My name’s Mint Julep and this here lump of a stallion is Marshal Bronzestar, which Ah imagine he neglected ta mention,” she said as she glanced to the other ghoul in the room, her hoof swinging out to wave towards him. There was a scowl upon her face, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“My name’s Shadow, Miss Julep, it’s a pleasure to meet you and Marshal Bronzestar. I’m glad to see a pair of friendly faces,” I answered quickly, lest Mint thought me rude. I perhaps laid it on a bit thick there, but it seemed the sort of thing she’d expect, and her widening smile confirmed it.

“Well, well… a pony with manners in this day and age, my granny’d be impressed. Y’all could learn a thing or two from this one, Bronze,” Mint said with a glance to the lawpony standing nearby. The pony in question merely snorted once more and looked away from the mare. Mint’s horn lit up suddenly with a soft green glow of magic. Items in a matching colored glow began to be pulled from within her saddlebags, all fairly common medical tools. “My word, that zebra sure seemed ta do a number on ya, dear.” Her smile never faltered as she prepared herself to go to work. I was surprised to see that she had managed to retain most of her teeth over the years. “Now, just hold still and Ah’ll get ya fixed up in no time at all!”

I’ll admit, I was at first a bit hesitant about letting a ghoul whose broken mind, while granted was only partly broken, used anything sharp or pointy on me. However, a quick look at said items relieved some of those fears. How her medical training had held up despite the physical and mental problems she’d no doubt suffered was beyond me, but the tools she held in her magical grip were free of any signs of rust and stains of blood. I’d seen far less clean tools in the Stable.

As I relaxed and allowed her to begin scanning my body for wounds, I idly wondered if she was as bad mentally as Bronzestar seemed to be. My eyes shifted from the glowing green items circling about me and over to the ghoul Marshal as he watched me closely. He clearly either could not or would not see the feral ghouls as anything other than healthy ponies. I looked back to Mint as she mumbled to herself over something she’d noticed. She could have simply been another doctor or nurse from one of the San Ponsisco hospitals or one of the small doctors in the local neighborhoods given her mannerisms. However, she had said I’d been attacked by a zebra and not a spike armored, blood stained, clearly a pony - pony. It seemed whatever caused Bronzestar to believe only weeks had passed since the bombings was selective… or at least he’d only been selective in what he’d seen. It seemed likely she believed the same things he did.

Thankfully, it didn’t take her very long to locate the most severe of my recent wounds… which really anypony with two eyes could see was the cut across my forehead. My Pipbuck’s medical read out had listed it as a rather deep slice once it’d began working. Now that I wasn’t fearing for my life at the hooves of a herd of feral ghouls, I could feel a good deal of swelling above my right eye. I suppose that’s why it was so blurry… at least I hope that was the only cause. My Pipbuck had continued to helpfully label a number of wounds all across my body, most of them minor cuts and scrapes. A white piece of cloth floated up near my face. It looked as clean as the rest of her tools, but it also looked about ready to fall apart from constant use. I also saw a bottle of alcohol floating up beside it, which tipped forwards to allow some of the cleaning liquid to pour out upon the cloth.

Oh this was going to fucking sting like a son of a bitch… a moment after I thought it, she gave her own professional medical opinion on the matter which seemed to agree with my more colorful one.

“Now, Ah’m right sorry ta say that this is gonna hurt a might bit, but there’s nothin’ for it. We gotta get that there wound cleaned out ‘fore an infection sets in,” she said softly. Her glowing eyes shifted to look me in the face, a look of concern evident in those unnatural orbs. Once more, I was reminded of just how well she’d fit in with the medical staff back in San Ponsisco… I was sure Doctor Kindheart would welcome the help in his clinic with Spirit gone… if she survived learning the truth that is. I nodded my head as I refocused on the matter at hoof, showing Mint that I understood and prepared myself for the pain to come. As I did so, her eyes shifted back to the wound while the glowing white cloth floated closer to my brow. A moment later the cooling feel of a wet cloth pressing against my face was quickly replaced with the sting of the rubbing alcohol. I bit back the curse that threatened to spill out of my mouth and simply focused on the ground before my hooves. I watched the alcohol that’d spilled out of the bottle run across the smooth grey stone as she worked. Carefully as she could, she cleaned the large head wound of blood and ash, the once white cloth turning an off pink color as she poured more alcohol over it each time it was pulled away from my face. The puddle of rubbing alcohol before my hooves was turning the stone a darker grey as more spilled out across the floor whenever she wrung it out. Swirls of red mixed into the odd color combo.

After several minutes of gentle scrubbing (I was rather thankful none of the blood had had a chance to dry into my fur as that would have made things even more interesting), she levitated a red bottle from her saddlebag and removed the cork with her magic. It was then floated up to my lips and I quickly drank it. I felt the healing magic within beginning to mend the wound upon my head, as well as those all across my body from the fall down the hill. The blurriness from my right eye began to clear up somewhat and I could more clearly see the two sitting before me. The swelling had also begun to lessen and my Pipbuck began updating my health status. My rad count was still rather high, but the minor wounds had all but disappeared and the head wound had been downgraded to minor.

‘Ah’m afraid that’s all Ah can do for yer wounds at th’ moment. Th’ swellin’ round yer eye’s already goin’ down and that nasty cut’s mendin’ well with th’ help of that there potion Ah gave ya,” Mint said as her tools began floating back into her saddle bags. “Th’ potion should help with th’ swellin’ as well and Ah’d say in a couple hours it’ll be all but gone.” Her smile faltered a bit and she sat herself down across from me with a sigh. “Ah’m afraid Ah can’t really tell if’n there’s been more damage ta th’ eye itself, at least not till we get ya looked at all proper at a hospital.” The last bit she said seemed more aimed at the other stallion in the room, who glanced up at the doctor.

“Damnit, Mint… Ah’ve told ya once afore. Until we know more bout what’s goin’ on beyond th’ forest, we can’t risk th’ lives of th’ civilians,” Bronzestar responded, to what sounded like an old argument of their’s… I doubted either of them knew just how old. The marshal turned his gaze away from Mint, back to the rock table across the cave from where we sat.

Following the two ghouls’ stare, I spotted what appeared to be an old, rusted and very battered looking two way radio sitting atop the makeshift table. Beside it were bits of wiring and tools, along with a number of other parts. I noticed there were also a good deal of empty cans of soda and foil packages. The remains of whoever had been working to repair the radio I imagine.

“Where th’ hell is Open Mic anyway… that blasted radio DJ said she’d have that ol’ military radio back up and runnin’ in no time,” the marshal added, looking from the battered radio back to Mint and I. The medical pony was just finishing with her repacking when she answered.

“Ah told ya she was gettin’ sick a couple days ago, Bronze. She’s been workin’ herself ta exhaustion tryin’ ta fix that there radio. She’s likely come down with that radiation sickness same as th’ others. Ah gave ’er a couple hours ta rest. Give ’er a day and Ah’m sure she’ll be back on her hooves along with th’ others.”

As she answered him, I chanced another look over to the radio and the items scattered around it. All of them were covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt. Somehow I doubted she’d gotten any better, or that she’d be getting back to work on it. She’d likely turned into one of the ferals outside the cave walls. I sighed to myself and wondered just how long they’d been waiting for Open Mic to get better. What Bronze said next, however, got my full attention.

“‘Sides, ain’t nopony goin’ nowhere till Ah ask some questions of this here stranger.” Shuffling hoof steps approaching me indicated the marshal had stepped closer, as did his odor...

“Now just hold on a sec, Bronze, what’er ya tryin’ ta say? Ya don’t trust yer fellow marshall?” Mint asked, coming to my defence quickly.

I turned away from the radio to face the marshal standing before me. His eyes looked me over more closely than he had before, perhaps looking for evidence to say I wasn’t who I said I was. Well… that’s a problem, isn’t it? I really wasn’t a marshal, at least not as he’d known them. Mint rose up from her sitting position to lay a hoof upon the armored shoulder of her fellow ghoul, drawing his attention away from me and giving me a moment to think. After all, I couldn’t really be honest with either of them about who I was and where I’d come from…

I realized quickly that I’d just been placed in a very bad position… and a potentially very dangerous one if what I’d learned about ghouls in San Ponsisco was correct. If I told them I wasn’t a true marshal, but a Stable pony out attempting to protect ponies, that would lead to more questions. Why were ponies in a Stable to begin with? I looked between Mint and Bronze as both began staring at me. The latter appeared to be processing what Mint had said to him, but I could tell he had an answer already for her. I’d have to tell them something. But what?

“That’s just th’ thing… Ah’ve never heard of another marshal bein’ in th’ area, Mint. Or of one named Shadow.” At that, Mint lowered her hoof and looked over to me, a hint of worry on her face.

Well… it was now or never...

“I haven’t been a marshal long to be honest, only a week or so and I’m not originally from this area,” I began, racking my brain on anything I’d learned about the marshals when I was reading history books back in the Stable. Bronze seemed to have indicated that the Marshals might have been assigned different areas of Equestria to patrol. It made sense, as I seemed to recall reading something about the Marshals being a small force of law enforcement ponies. To do what the history books had said would mean that they’d have to have been split up all across the country. If so, then it was possible marshals working close together might know of one another’s whereabouts in case they needed help. I quickly thought up something that might seem plausible to the ghoul. “I’m originally from Kanter City.” While I hated to associate myself with that… place… it was at least close to the truth. And far enough away from Old or New Oaks for him not to have ever heard of me… maybe.

“Ah reckon that seems likely… th’ High Marshall was plannin’ on trainin’ a few new ponies in th’ city next time he was visitin’ it,” Bronze said slowly, ears perking a bit. It still sounded as if he was a little unsure, though. Perhaps he thought I was some sort of zebra spy. Ponies during the war were quite paranoid of zebra spies… and I guess they had good reason. The zebras were masters at stealth and information gathering and had us beat on both almost at every turn. “Still… it’s a long way from Kanter City ta here.” The ghoul’s eyes narrowed as he watched me. Mint seemed to pick up on this and looked over to him.

“One of my friends is a pegasus. When the bombings began, I asked for her help in going out to find ponies in the outlying towns. She had access to a sky chariot due to her rank in the military,” I answered. Again, it was true enough and it seemed to ease Mint’s worries. Bronze, however, merely snorted a bit.

“Might bit convenient, don’t ya think? Th’ army just lettin’ yer friend borrow military hardware?”

“I… suppose it could seem to be. Regardless, it’s the truth.” That was all I could really say. However, it was Mint who spoke next.

“Ta be honest, it’s possible, Bronze.” The marshal turned to look at the mare behind him, arching a brow at her. “How do ya think Ah managed ta get those supplies sent ta th’ hospital? My aunt works in th’ Ministry of Peace as a nurse and she managed ta pull a few strings for me.”

“Ah… reckon so…” he said, looking between us and clearly attempting to find something wrong with my story. If he looked hard enough, I’m sure he could find at least a half dozen things wrong. I decided to speak up myself before he could ask me any specific questions that only a true marshal would know.

“Look… I don’t want to cause any problems… but I really need to get back to my friends. My friends and I were answering a distress signal we’d picked up a short time ago, it was being broadcast by survivors who had holed up in the ruins of Old Oaks. It’s why I asked her for the use of a sky chariot. The ponies who sent out the signal were under attack by raiders…” Bronze and Mint both looked at me with confusion, and I realized I’d let slip something that they weren’t familiar with. I quickly attempted to repair the damage. “It’s what we’ve taken to calling the… zebras wearing spiked armor.” That seemed to ease Mint, but Bronze still didn’t seem one hundred percent convinced. It was him I’d need to convince completely… after all, he had the weapon and the feral ghouls at his command.

“Ah’d thought anypony still livin’ in Old Oaks woulda died in th’ fires or woulda fled east… are they alright?” Mint asked. Despite the otherworldly glow to her eyes, I saw a familiar look in them: concern for wounded ponies. I’d seen the look on both Spirit and Spearmint’s face often enough in the past.

“Most of them are, but I’m afraid a good deal of them died defending the town before we’d arrived. We lost at least another four or more along the road just a couple hours ago.”

“Oh my stars… is that how ya come ta be wanderin’ th’ forest all alone?” As I nodded my head in response, she began to stand up. “Well, if’n ya’ll can wait a bit, Ah can load up some medical supplies and come take a look at them wounded ponies…” the kind hearted ghoul said, starting to turn away and do just that when Bronzestar spoke up once more.

“Tarnation, Mint!” The ghoul stomped his hoof onto the hard stone floor. “Ah ain’t finished askin’ questions just yet!”

“Bronze!” Mint called out, eyes still narrowed and a fierce scowl fixed upon her face. “Ya keep yer voice down, ya’ll wake th’ little ones.” Not surprisingly, that seemed to cowl the stallion. “‘Sides, yer bein’ a might bit paranoid Ah think. Not everypony is a zebra spy out ta kill us like those videos say,” the mare added, tilting her head to the side. “My word… th’ first friendly face we see and yer treatin’ him like a criminal.”

“Ah’m just bein’ careful is all… Ah don’t want a repeat of what happened th’ last time we thought we’d found a friendly face,” the stallion responded, eyes shifting quickly from me to Mint and back again. His ears folded back against the brim of his hat.

“What happened?” I asked, earning a pained look from Mint and an angry one from Bronze. While it might not have been the best question to ask, it at least kept the conversation going.

“Zebras happened,” was the stallion’s only response. I was content to leave it at that, though Mint seemed inclined to at least explain it a little more.

“It wasn’t long after ponies started gettin’ sick. Bronzestar volunteered ta lead a couple ponies out along th’ road and look for help. They’d come across what looked like a group of ponies fleein’ their homes with whatever they could carry in a couple wagons.” As she began speaking, she sat back down upon the smooth stone floor. Her eyes shifted from the marshal to me. “Bronze and two of th’ ponies he was with approached the lead wagon and was about ta ask’em for help when they began shootin’ at’em. Killed the others and badly wounded Bronze.”

“Celestia damned black magic...” the stallion muttered, looking down at the ground. “Th’ others with me started shootin’ back. Luckily they’d been in th’ army and knew how ta use their rifles. When the shootin’ finally stopped Ah’d lost another pony but we’d killed everypony that’d been in those wagons. After th’ fightin’ died down, Ah checked one of th’ dead ponies and found an amulet on ’em… when Ah took it off one, they changed back inta a zebra.”

“I see…” So, that had happened soon after they’d entered the forest. Then they’d gotten sicker… and likely had hidden in the caves as the fires raged outside. Carrion had said it’d burned for days… perhaps it hadn’t yet reached the section of the forest they’d been forced to stop in and after that… well. I shut my eyes tiredly and sighed softly as I realized the full depth of the tragedy that had played out here. “Did you ever try again?” I asked, knowing the answer already as the results of those attempts sat stacked behind me.

“A couple times… each time with th’ same results. Wagon loads of what look like ponies travelin’ along th’ road. Th’ second they see any of us they open fire and we’re either forced ta run or fight for our lives.” I shut my eyes and sighed softly. “We ain’t found any amulets on ’em since th’ first time, but no pony would fire on another.” No, I suppose in their time they wouldn’t. “Near as we can figure, th’ zebras have been raidin’ pony towns up north and have been sendin’ them along th’ road ta somewhere else.”

“So that’s where you’d come across so many supplies?” I asked, opening my eyes once more and looking back to the marshal sitting across from me.

“Seemed a waste ta let ’em sit out on th’ road. ‘Sides, we’d been forced ta flee New Oaks quickly and didn’t have time ta grab anythin’ from our homes ta survive out in th’ wilderness,” Bronze answered, ears rising back up a bit. “Ain’t gonna let them striped bastards plunder pony homes and take it Celestia knows where. Still, Ah wish we coulda learned what’s been happenin’ beyond th’ forest.” At this, Mint blinked and gave the marshal an odd look before speaking herself.

“Well, Ah might just be a small town doctor, Bronze, and no street smart marshal like yerself or tactically wise as th’ Captain was, but if yer so keen on learnin’ what’s become of our country, maybe ya might think of askin’ this here new marshal a couple other questions? After all… he’s not from New Oaks as he said and he’s been beyond th’ forest.” A familiar look came over the ghoul mare’s face. One I’d seen often enough on the face of my sister when I wasn’t getting the hint… or as she called it, when I was being a stupid, thick headed stallion. “Ah imagine he might know a thing or two about how things are goin’ for us... perhaps even knowin’ what’s become of our Princesses’.”

“Well… how bout it, Marshal?”

So… there it was. The question I’d been dreading they’d ask. One I’d attempted to dodge, but deep down I knew it’d be asked eventually. If our roles had been reversed, I know it’s one I would have asked as soon as I could. They both seemed to believe what I’d told them so far… so what would I tell them about the world beyond the forest?

The truth? Watch the world they’d built up around themselves fall apart as they realize just how long it’d been? Why nopony was coming to their rescue? Sorry guys, Equestria burned to the ground around you and everypony you knew died a long time ago. Oh by the way, you’re both walking corpses. What then? Would I be forced to kill them as what was left of their minds crumbled?

Or should I lie… tell them what they wanted to hear instead. Keep what sanity they had intact and their lives… such as they are, safe. Let them keep on believing that the world they lived in still existed beyond the forest. That only a few days had passed and ponies were fighting off the zebra invaders? That their loved ones had perhaps escaped the bombings? Was it right to lie to them?

And what of the foal I was following? If I told them the truth and they did break, I’d be forced to fight off the currently docile ghouls and she’d be getting further away from me. I looked up into the hopeful faces of the ghouls around me and realized I had no good choice to make… either one I picked was wrong one way or another.

So I decided to go with a third option. A bit of both.

“To be honest with you… I know little more than either of you do. The past few days have been very chaotic for everyone,” I began, reaching for the canteen at my side. “Communications all across Equestria have been down since the bombings so nopony’s sure of what's going on beyond their little corners of the country. The only thing we know for certain is that all the major cities have been hit by Balefire bombs, same as New Oaks and Kanter City.”

At that, Mint gasped and fell back onto her haunches, eyes wide and ears wilted to the sides. “Th’ death toll must be in th’ thousands…” The ghoul mare hurriedly looked away from Bronze and myself as she fought back the urge to cry. “Ah… Ah’d hoped New Oaks was th’ only place hit… that it was just some sorta mistake…”

I took the opportunity to take a drink from my canteen and gather my thoughts. Everything I’d told them thus far was true… more or less. Since they’d believed only a few days had past, I’d left the details of what I’d been through to that. The past few days had indeed been hectic for my friends and I, fighting to protect the ponies of Old Oaks from the raiders. As for communication, that was completely true- phones, radios, and television stations had all gone dark that day. Beyond the odd radio broadcast, nothing else was heard across the wasteland.

“What of Canterlot? Th’ Princesses?” Bronze asked, the marshal looking somewhat fearful of the answer I’d give him. After all, even the half truth could be painful.

For those of us living in this Equestrian Wasteland, the Princesses were one of two things. To some they were larger than life figures, the ponies who had helped build Equestria into what it had been. Powerful beings who had defended the country throughout recorded history. But, they were just ponies... ponies who did make mistakes as the ruined cities and homes of the surrounding countryside could attest. To others, however, they were much more than just Equestrias former rulers: they were immortal goddesses. When the bombings had occurred, they had assented to another plan where they would make a paradise for the ponies that followed them. To these ponies, they were worshipped and prayed to. I suppose I fell somewhere in between those two, neither leaning one way or another.

But for ponies like Bronze and Mint… the Princesses were very real ponies, not figures of history or goddesses of some holy scripture. Even if they’d never seen them personally, they still knew they lived with them in the same country. They lived in the capital to rule over them and protect them. They’d likely heard them speak over the radio or on the television set. They may even have met them… given the photos I’d seen in Pipsqueak’s attic. To learn that they had most likely died would be a terrible blow… one that they might not recover from in their current mental state…

“Nothing’s confirmed, just that Canterlot was hit but had a shield raised at the time.” Again it was true, mostly. There wasn’t much concrete evidence about what had become of Equestria’s Princesses. Rumors that they had survived the bombings and fled to a Stable were told, alongside those that their broken remains had been discovered at the base of the mountain their capital had stood atop. Wild had once spoken about the Canterlot ruins and the strange pink cloud that clung to the ruined capital of Equestria. The mare had flown across it once while protecting a supply caravan to a small Enclave outpost. Stone had mentioned that anypony who’d ever attempted to enter the ruins to loot them for supplies and magical artifacts had never been heard from again.

“It’s worse than any of us thought,” Bronze muttered to himself. The news I’d told them had shaken the stallion, though I hoped it hadn’t broken him. “Ah reckon that’s why nopony’s been lookin’ for us then?” he asked to which I nodded my head, while screwing the lid back atop my canteen. “What of th’ Army? Th’ Ministries? What about th’ Marshals? Surely there’s somepony takin’ charge out there?”

“I’m afraid nearly every military base was targeted by the zebras, as were the Ministries. While I haven’t visited many, I doubt they’re in any real shape to do much. As for… our fellow Marshals I’m not sure really. You’re the first one I’ve found. There’s places where ponies are taking charge, small towns and settlements that weren’t targeted by the zebras. Crossroads, Tombstone, and Janesville to name a few. I wish I had better answers for you, Bronze, but I’m afraid that’s all I know.”

“Its more than we knew, Ah’m sure it ain’t as bad in other places. After all, no news is good news,” Mint said. Despite her brave words, I could hear the worry in her voice and the hint of tears in her glowing green eyes. The ghoul mare looked from me to Bronze who moved a bit so he might look out of the cave entrance which stood behind me.

“Maybe… but it’s clear we can’t expect any help comin’ anytime soon,” the marshal said with a grunt, ears folded back as he stared towards the exit of the cave. Outside the rain continued to fall, the sudden silence that had fallen between the three of us was now filled with the steady patter of rain drops striking the stone walls of the cave’s entrance. Mint broke the silence, speaking towards her fellow ghoul survivor.

“No, Ah reckon that hope’s burned away with th’ forest around us. Whatever we do, it’s clear ta all of us that we can’t stay here,” she said softly. Her own ears wilted to the side of her head as she looked away from the marshal and down to the floor. “Th’ nights are only gonna be gettin’ colder and th’ youngin’s won’t survive a winter in this damp cave. Th’ elderly we got with us ain’t gonna be doin’ much better…”

“Ah know, Mint, Ah know… we gotta rethink what we’re gonna do and soon, for all our sakes,” he responded without looking over to the mare sitting to his side. His eyes were still fixed upon the cave entrance. “Ah’d best go check on th’ sentries right quick, make sure none of’em are slackin’,” he added after a moment of silence and stood up.

I looked between the two ghouls once more and pondered my next decision. Time was running out for the little filly I’d come to find as well as for the ponies and friends I’d left behind traveling along the highway. It was running out for these ghouls as well… so should I just up and leave them? Or… perhaps there was something I could do for them? Somewhere they could go that would be better than this irradiated forest. I was about to speak when I felt a hoof touch my shoulder.

“Let ’em go… he needs time ta think bout what ya’ve told us,” Mint said softly as Bronzestar trotted to the entrance and back out into the rain soaked morning. I suppose she was right… still…

“Sadly time is not something I have a lot of at the moment,” I said as I stood up, feeling a bit light headed. Thankfully, the throbbing pain that had filled my head earlier was all but gone. Once it passed, I quickly did a quick check of my equipment.

“Ya’ll worried bout th’ ponies ya were leadin’ away from Old Oaks?” she asked as I began reloading Luna’s Ruse.

“Yes, the last I’d seen of them was before entering the forest. They were being chased by a band of raiders…” I glanced to the mare for a moment. I was still slightly worried about how she and Bronze would react to the name “raiders”, but it seemed they had fully accepted my explanation. She still seemed confused about something, however. “Something wrong?” I asked, turning my head fully towards her.

“Ah’m a might curious ta be honest. It’s somethin’ that’s been botherin’ me since ya explained what ya was doin’ here in th’ first place.” I nodded my head towards her to continue, and she asked, “Why did ya leave’em to come into th’ forest anyway?”

“Well, one of the wagons my friends and I were protecting was overturned in the fighting and a young foal ran off into the forest alone… not sure why, maybe she was hurt,” I answered, turning back to focus on slotting the last couple shells into the drum feed of my gun before going on to explain, “Her mother and one of the stallions pulling the wagon survived the crash, but the rest of her family did not.” Come to think of it, was it her mother that survived? Was it even her family that she was with?

“A young filly, ya say?” I was set to simply answer with a nod and slip another round into the drum, but the tone of her voice caught my attention. I instead turned around to look into the ghoul’s glowing eyes, brow arched a bit. “Perhaps five years old, earth pony with an amber coat and blond mane?” Once again, I nodded. While I’d not gotten a very good look at the filly, I’d seen the mare we’d pulled from the wreckage and she’d matched that description. “Th’ poor dear came stumblin’ into our camp just twenty minutes before ya’ll dropped in.”

“Is she alright?” I asked, my full attention fixed upon Mint as it was her turn to nod. A smile formed on her muzzle, but her eyes were sad.

“She’ll be fine once she gets some rest. Th’ poor little dear was all cut up from her trip through th’ forest and likely that crash. She had a couple bruised ribs and a sprained ankle.” She motioned with her horned head towards the tunnel she’d come through earlier. “She’s restin’ in th’ back with th’ other foals. Ah gave ’er a health potion, bandaged her ribs and ankle.”

While I was relieved that she wasn’t lost out in the forest, wandering to Celestia and Luna knew where… I was also still worried about her. “Can I see her?” I asked after a moment of silence. While Mint seemed a very capable healer, I still had questions about how much of her mind was affected by her transformation into a ghoul. If she hadn’t noticed the massive amounts of radiation surrounding us, she may not have checked the foal for any… and given how long she’d been without any Rad-Away that could prove just as deadly.

“Of course ya can, hon. Just follow me and Ah’ll show ya where she’s restin’. Remember ta be as quiet as ya can, though Ah don’t wanna wake any of ’em,” she answered as she began standing up.

Following her towards the back of the cave, we entered the side passage she and Bronze had exited from earlier. It led us even deeper beneath the hillside I’d fallen down. As it turned out, there were a number of smaller chambers along the passage I found myself standing within. Ahead, Mint was moving slowly along the smooth floor, horn glowing as she lit the passage. Though there was light coming from a few of the chambers she passed, and as I trotted to catch up, I noticed the light was coming from the same worn pre war lamps I’d seen in the main chamber. Of the chambers we passed, I glanced into a couple. At least those that were lit well enough for me to see within. Most appeared to have been used as sleeping chambers by the survivors of New Oaks. The tattered, dust covered bedrolls and blankets scattered about the floors of the chambers appeared not to have been used for sometime, while one we passed had the resting form of another ghoul. He or she (I couldn’t tell due to the damage their body had suffered) lifted their head as we passed, glowing green eyes watching us. Laying beside the ghoul were a few personal effects. I noticed a few more beside the makeshift beds as we passed.

“Ah’m sorry bout Bronzestar’s manners,” Mint said from ahead of me. I looked away from the side rooms. “He’s put himself in charge of us all since th’ Captain and a few of his soldiers went off ta try and find us help. Ah think th’ pressure's gettin’ ta him… he’s really a nice pony once ya get ta know ’im,” she added, looking across her shoulder to me as she spoke.

“The Captain?” I asked her as we came to a bend in the cave. The ceiling was slightly lower here and I ducked my head, the top of my hat rubbing against the uneven roof.

“Captain Ironshield, he’s a retired Royal Guardsman and th’ commander of New Oaks’ defense force…” she began, though as she went on, her face began to darken once more. She focused her attention upon the path ahead. “Least he was while there was still a New Oaks ta defend,” she added softly, ears laying back against her head.

“You said he left the camp?” I asked, attempting to get her mind off the destruction of her home.

“Yes… he and Bronzestar didn’t exactly see eye ta eye on what we needed ta do. Th’ Captain thought we should try and reach the nearest city or military base ta New Oaks. He took two of his surviving soldiers with ’im ta try and reach help. It’s not been long… but Ah’m worried they might’a ran into trouble.”

I nodded my head and kept silent, wondering just how long ago Captain Ironshield and his ponies left. It seemed highly likely that it’d happened early on in this ordeal. Perhaps just days after the transformation into ghouls. Something told me neither he nor the two ponies who’d followed him were coming back.

“I’m sure they’ll be alright,” I said instead, and she smiled. Somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better about lying to the poor mare. I didn’t get anymore time to think upon my feelings as it seemed we’d reached our destination, another opening into a larger cave.

Ahead of me, Mint slowed to a quiet walk and motioned for me to do the same. Mindful of the fact she’d mentioned foals, and that the wounded filly I’d been following was asleep herself, I followed her example and lightened my steps. The medical mare stepped through the opening and I followed right behind her. The room I entered was similar to the larger entrance cave, though it was a bit smaller. As I looked about the room, I faltered and Mint gave me an annoyed look at the sudden sound of clopping hooves upon the stone floor.

Like the larger room, this one was filled along two sides with stacked crates and even a few barrels and ammo cases. The remaining two sides of the natural cave were free of the recovered supplies, but instead had a number of badly rusted cots lined up along its wall. It was the forms laying upon them that had caused me to falter. Small huddled bodies laying upon the tattered remains of pillows and blankets. Their glowing green eyes settled upon me as I stumbled past the doorway. Foals… most of them as young as Sugar Pie… and all of them as undead as Mint, Bronze, or Carion. Not all of them though, I quickly noticed. One lay sound asleep upon the nearest bed. A young filly who I recalled seeing upon the stuck wagon, clinging to her mother in fear.

Her tiny chest rising and falling as she slept peacefully, for which I was thankful. If anything were to give a young pony nightmares, it would have been the events of the past few days. I noticed parts of her small body were wrapped in clean bandages, all free of any signs of blood. It would appear Mint’s assessment of the young filly’s wounds was correct, but I still worried about her rad count.

Stepping closer, I was intent upon checking her with my E.F.S. when my hoof brushed up against something lying upon the floor beside her bed. As I looked down, my ears perked to the sound of a glass bottle rolling across the stone flooring. In the dim lighting from the lanterns, I caught the glint of the bottle as rolled to a halt against one of the rusted wheels of the cot. As I bent down to get a closer look at it, I noticed the label had ended facing upward. The familiar symbol of Rad-Away blazed upon it was clear to my eyes. Arching a brow, I rose quickly back upright and scanned the still sleeping filly. I was somewhat surprised to see that her radiation levels were well within the green. So surprised was I that I barely noticed the empty bottle floating up in the glowing field of green magic. At least until it was just passing by my shoulder.

“Now, how’d this find its way down there?” Mint asked as the empty bottle floated closer to her face. She raised an eyebrow as she looked from the spent Rad-Away to the sleeping foal.

I was wondering much the same thing as the ghoul mare, looking past her to the stacked crates in the room. It seemed likely one of them had contained the medicine given what I’d already seen. But, how did it get from them to the filly? She surely didn’t have the strength to go over and get it herself… from what Mint had said, she’d fallen asleep shortly after she’d been treated for her wounds. Could she have woken up and gotten it? It seemed the most likely answer as most parents taught their children about the hazards of radiation as soon as they were old enough to walk.

My eyes traveled from the stacked crates to the filly laying asleep upon her cot. I would have left it at that if movement hadn’t caught my attention. I looked up from the filly to the cot beside her, and one of the ghoul foals, a young filly a few years older than Sugar… or she had been. Like Mint, she seemed to have retained much of her coat and mane. Both of which were blue, her coat a much darker shade while her mane and tail were more lighter. She also bore a cutie mark, a shooting star. She’d lifted her head up from where it’d been laying upon her forehooves and was looking over towards the sleeping foal. When she noticed I was watching her, her eyes shifted to look into mine.

Unlike the feral ghouls outside, her glowing orbs held that same spark of intelligence that Mint and Bronze had. She still retained her mind, only… there was something unsettling about her stare. I’d never seen a foal with such an intense stare… in fact it reminded me more of an adult… of a pony many times older than what she should be. To my further surprise, the mysterious ghoul foal nodded her head once to me before laying it back down upon her forehooves. Her eyes shut closed a moment later.

It seemed that not everypony within the cave was blissfully unaware of their fate, or how much time had passed… if she knew, what about the others around her? Did they know too?

“Well… perhaps the bottle had fallen from your saddlebags earlier, Mint,” I answered the mare’s question. The ghoul filly across from me cracked open a single eye to stare at me once again. I offered a small smile and nod of my head to which, for a brief moment, she returned with one of her own. However, her eyes dropped back to the sleeping foal between us and the smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. Shifting upon her cot, she turned her back to us and the ghoul foal laid her head back down upon her hooves.

“Ah suppose yer right,” Mint said from behind me, the green glowing empty bottle floating towards the back of the cave. “Not like it was anythin’ we’re usin’, we’ve got more than enough Rad Away for one ta break on th’ floor.” With that, the bottle floated down into what appeared to be a trash bin, made up of an empty wooden crate. “If yer satisfied th’ young dear’s alright, Ah’d like ta ask ya about th’ wounded ponies ya have with ya before ya race back out into th’ forest.”

“What makes you think I’m going to go charging off? And besides, I didn’t think Bronze was going to let you help?” I asked, turning away from the resting foals to look at Mint. The mare glanced over towards me as she trotted towards the medical supplies stored within the cave.

“Ya was all but set to take off a couple minutes ago before Ah mentioned th’ filly. Besides, Ah’ve seen that look on yer face often enough before. Ah know yer gonna go off lookin’ for yer friends and those ponies ya came to protect.” When all I did was look at her confusedly, she simply smiled and turned back towards the nearest crate, horn glowing as the lid was lifted away. “Bronze usta get that look all th’ time back in New Oaks and more so lately whenever one of th’ others goes missin’ for too long.” A moment of silence passed before she added, “Ah suppose it’s a Marshal thing.”

After a little over twenty minutes of work, Mint finally seemed content with the stock pile of medical supplies we’d retrieved from the creates. My saddlebags were bulging with everything from simple bandages to those enchanted with healing spells. A dozen or more healing potions and, much to the mare’s confusion, as much Rad Away as I could stock up on was also added. When asked why I needed so much, I’d been forced to lie and say that some of the ponies we’d rescued had been exposed to high levels of radiations after the bombings. It seemed enough for her, and she asked no more about it. Instead, she focused on helping me get the life saving materials into my overburdened packs.

When we at last exited the room, the ghoul medical mare began seeking more ways for me to transport supplies to the wounded ponies in the caravan. Luckily I managed to convince her that there was no way I could afford to leave any of my ammo behind. Instead, I suggested we tie a few medpacks together and secure them to my saddlebags’ straps and along my back. My movements would be hindered, but I had a feeling Spirit and Fiona would need these things, and soon. There seemed little left for me to do but set off. However, I would need to see to one final issue before leaving the safety of the camp.

With Mint’s promise to look after the still sleeping foal, I stepped back out of the medical/sleeping area of the ghouls and trotted back towards the central room, and ultimately the outside. As I moved out into the larger cave like room, I spotted Bronzestar. The ghoul must have returned while I’d been speaking with Mint and was now seated near the table with all the radio bits scattered about atop it… or at least they were. They’d been pushed to one side, and something had been rolled out across the flat stone the ghouls had been using as a table.

One of his ears swiveled back towards me as I entered the room, the only sign he’d heard me. I stood still for a moment, before taking a few steps towards the stallion. Despite not being able to see his face, I could tell something was troubling him. His shoulders were slumped, his tail (what little remained of it) hung limply behind him, and once his ear returned to its forward position, it dropped down to the side. I had a pretty good idea what was on his mind.

“Ah’m at a loss, Shadow….” the ghoul pony said without turning to look at me. Taking it as an opening, I stepped closer and spotted what he was so focused upon. It was a map of Equestria, very similar to the one Bright and I had looked over back in Stable 45… it seemed a lifetime ago. The map before Bronzestar had seen a lifetime, judging by the numerous creases and tears along its surface, not to mention much of the detail had faded away with time. “Th scope of all this… it’s just ta much for one pony ta get a grip on.”

“I’m sorry the news I’ve given you couldn’t have been better, Bronze. The... past couple days have been hectic for everypony,” I answered as I stepped up beside the stone table, looking over the map he had spread out before him. Once again I managed to be… if not completely honest, honest enough with the confused ghoul. From his perspective, it had been only a couple of days.

“Ain’t yer fault what happened, Shadow… ain’t yer fault ya had ta tell us th’ truth.” I winced as he said that. Luckily, his eyes were fixed upon the map. “Of what's goin’ on beyond th’ forest.” He looked away from the map finally and past me, to the boxes stacked neatly along the wall of the cave. “These supplies ain’t gonna last us forever… and Ah’m a might concerned about lettin’ anypony eat th’ food we took from them damned zebras.”

I followed his gaze to the boxes, once more noticing how bad some of them had gotten. A half dozen near the back of the cave had almost completely rotted away with time. He was right about these supplies not lasting them long, certainly not in these conditions. While I’d seen no sign of running water, I doubted the caves were completely water free. Whether from humidity or the rain, water was likely getting at the stored supplies. While not everything would simply rot away, time would ruin the rest… or whatever pests still lived within the forest. The food that was not canned or made before the war would be the first to go, while the medical supplies would last a bit longer depending on where they were stored… but not forever. Supplies that had been desperately needed by the ponies of Old Oaks, and perhaps even Janesville as well. Supplies taken from pony traders who the ghouls had mistaken for zebra.

“If only we had someplace ta go… someplace ta regroup and get our bearings… or someway of gettin’ ahold of somepony in whatever government or military remains.” He lowered his eyes from the crates and stared at the floor for a few moments. He spoke again, his voice a bit softer. “Ah ain’t afraid ta admit it, Shadow… Ah just don’t know what ta do for these ponies,” he said without looking at me. Despite his previous words to the contrary, he still sounded somewhat ashamed to admit it. I doubted he’d said as much to anypony here, though I had a feeling Mint might have suspected.

“I know you’ve said you’d tried it before, but why haven’t you tried to leave the forest again if things are so dire? Surely you have enough supplies stockpiled to last you long enough to reach one of the nearby towns or cities?” I asked, sitting down beside him. The ghoul law pony grunted in response to my question and simply tapped the map sitting before us with a chipped hoof.

Looking closer at the map, I could see it’s edges were even more worn and frayed than I’d thought. There were a number of other rips and tears along the middle of the almost hair thin paper. I noticed a number of alarming dark stains along one corner of the map as well, looking similar to pools of old dried blood. My eyes wandered away from the stains and after only a moment or so of searching found the area we were at now. Along the way, I saw that somepony had been adding updates to the map in a similar fashion to how we’d done to our’s back in the Stable. A few of the marks were faded with time or covered by stains, but some were still easily visible. Of those marks, New Oaks and Old Oaks had been marked out by a large black ‘X’ along with the hastily scrawled word, ‘destroyed’. A number of the towns around those two had the word ‘zebras?’ noted beside them, of which Janesville was one.

“Th’ surrondin’ countryside seems ta have been taken over by zebra infiltrators masqueradin’ as ponies,” Bronze said as he noticed where my eyes have moved. The ghoul’s own glowing orbs narrowed upon the town’s name.

“Have you been to any of them to be sure? I mean, it could just be bands of zebras moving through the area,” I said, not having heard of any stories from Balefire or Silverluck about ghoul attacks on the surrounding towns when we’d talked about the risks of taking the forest road. While it could have happened a while back, I’d think so many ghouls appearing near the walls of one would have earned some attention.

“No… not personally anyway…” the ghoul marshall said. “But th’ day we reached this here cave, a group of army soldiers who’d come with us volunteered ta go out and scout th’ area for anyplace safe we could take th’ survivors. We ain’t heard back from ’em since, and they were packin’ some serious hardware.” Bronze sighed and shook his head, before reaching up a hoof to remove his hat. As the worn, battered cowpony hat left his head, I got a rather shocking and close up look at the insides of a pony’s head.

Right below Bronzestar’s right ear was a good two to three inch wide gash in his flesh running along the side of his skull as well as a slightly smaller hole in the skull itself. Through that, I could see the decayed bits of his brain. As I sat there transfixed at the sight, I actually saw bits of his brain pulse and flex as he moved his hoof up to rub his eyes tiredly. Sickeningly, I’d seen enough wounds over the past month that I realized this one wasn’t fresh or even recent. It had likely been one he’d suffered a very, very long time ago. How’d he survived that? Or had it happened while he’d been fighting against those supposed zebra? I idly wondered if it could have something to do with his memory problems as well… but that didn’t explain Mint.

“Ah’m afraid if we leave this here cave Ah’ll be losin’ more ponies to this damned insanity that’s gripped th’ world,” Bronze spoke again, breaking me out of my thoughts. He tossed his hat angrily atop the map, the aged paper not taking the sudden impact well and bits of it cracking in places.

“You could always come with us.” The words were out of my mouth before I even knew it. Inwardly I swore to myself, oddly in a voice that sounded similar to Carrion’s. I suppose if I was to have a voice of reason, it’d be that pony. Outwardly, I maintained my cool and looked over to see Bronze’s reaction. He looked surprised by the offer and a bit wary as well. Well… that was something we both felt.

After all, it’s one thing to take a group of normal ponies from one town to another… despite what I’d seen in the different towns I’d been to, most seemed to be run in similar fashions. It wouldn’t take much for them to adapt to their new homes. However, it would be something else entirely to relocate a group of ghouls who were either in denial of what had become of their world or flat out feral. But I’d already made the offer of help… and it wasn’t like I hadn’t already been thinking about it. Nopony deserved to remain trapped within this dead forest, alone, slowly losing themselves to the wasteland. Despite everything they’d done, didn’t they deserve a chance?

“You and your ponies are more than welcome to join the group I’m leading westward towards safety. While our supplies are limited, you all have more than enough to go around if you don’t mind sharing. As for Janesville, I know for a fact that it is safe and inhabited by survivors of the bombings. Besides, it would be far safer for all of us if we traveled together. With our combined size, no zebra raiding party would dare attack us.” I wasn’t so sure about actual raiders, however. They commonly ignored the odds. As for Janesville being safe, well, it was safer than the forest… I would just have to do some fancy talking to get them to allow the ghouls inside. If they didn’t… well, there were ghouls living in San Ponsisco, I was sure they would take them in. Even if I had to lead them there myself.

“It’s a mighty kind offer, Shadow… Ah just don’t know…” Bronze began, the ghoul replacing his hat back atop his head as his eyes scanned the map for any other possibility. I couldn’t really blame him in being hesitant. He had a lot of lives on his hooves. “Ah reckon it’s th’ wisest course of action… Ah’m just worried about what's waitin’ for us out there.”

Even if he didn’t truly realize it, he’d been living in this pocket of safety for so long and he didn’t want to chance leaving it. Something I’d felt back in Stable 45, at least until those raiders attacked us. But I was also worried about what was waiting for him and the other ghouls out there… the truth. I sighed inwardly and glanced over to the map, knowing that sooner or later once they left the forest they’d need to be told the truth about what had happened and what they were. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to push my point and reminded myself that we had to take this one problem at a time.

“You said it yourself, Bronze, you can’t stay here forever and sooner or later you’re going to have to make the decision to leave the caves.” Looking back over to the torn ghoul, I laid a hoof upon his armored shoulder. “It’d be better to do so while you have friends willing to help everypony out.” The ghoul’s eyes remained fixed upon the map before him, though his tattered ears swiveled backwards. After a few more seconds of silence, he nodded his head.

“Ah’m afraid Ah’ve let my fear get th’ better of me… th’ others have been wantin’ ta go somewhere else for a while now. Yer right of course, it’d be best ta make our move while we got friends willin’ to lend us a hoof. Ah reckon it’s best ta do so in th’ company of a fellow Marshal as well,” he answered finally, looking up from the map to me. “When do ya wanna set out?” he asked.

“As soon as possible,” I answered, dropping my hoof from his shoulder to the map upon the table. I traced the roadway from Old Oaks to Janesville through the forest. “The longer we wait to set out, the further my group gets away from us and the harder it’ll be for us to link back up with them. I doubt those raiders have given up so soon.” Bronze followed the trail and snorted.

“Th’ zebras never seem ta give up… even after they burned th’ world with their dark magic,” he responded, eyes narrowing a bit before he once more shook his head and went on to add, “Ah’ll need ta get Mint Julep started on organizin’ our supplies and gettin’ the foals ready ta travel. Ah’ll also have ta get some of th’ others ta help carry the supplies... and Ah should leave a message for th’ captain in case he comes back…” he trailed off as he started looking past the map to the surface of the table for something. He clearly didn’t find what he was looking for as his ears flicked back flat across the brim of his hat. “Where is that blasted book Ah had with me a couple days ago?”

I glanced quickly across the tabletop myself for any sign of a book, but came up empty. There was so much clutter upon the table and after so long it could have ended up anywhere within the cave. Also… I doubted the captain would ever return to read it and, as I’d said, time wasn’t on our side.

“Why don’t you go on and get started on those other tasks, since you know the ponies here better than I do. I’ll search for your book and if I find it, write out a quick note for the captain for you telling him and the others where you’ve all gone,” I offered, hoping to get them on their way quickly.

“Right, Ah’ll go get Mint started before Ah speak ta th’ others,” the ghoul said simply, giving one last look over the table before he stood up. “Just don’t go tearin’ out pages from my book, it’s rather special ta me… there should be a few loose sheets of paper in th’ back though.” With that, he made his way back down the tunnel I’d just come from, leaving me alone in main chamber.

Standing myself, I looked about the room for something to write on. Any piece of paper or piece of cardboard would do and I quickly spotted a likely item sitting upon one of the wooden crates. It looked like a clipboard, perhaps one that still had some paper attached to it. Stepping around the table, I hurriedly made my way across the room towards the stacked crates. Once I’d written this note, I’d see about helping out with the supplies, as Spirit could make use of a lot of these things with our wounded.

As I moved closer to the far wall of the cave, I noticed that the crates here seemed to be among some of the older ones stored within the room. Many of them had a rather unhealthy looking black mold growing upon those closest to the floor while others had completely fallen apart. The stack I approached had lost the bottom most box to rot, and the entire stack had fallen sideways onto its neighbor. It was on one of these fallen boxes I’d spotted the clipboard and as I lifted it up with my hoof, I noticed something sitting beneath it. It was a book, well worn judging by the creased spine and yellowed pages. I was about to ignore it when I noticed the symbol on the front cover partially hidden by dust: a silver star.

Curious now, I sat the clipboard back atop the create and lifted the book up. Bringing it closer, I blew across the dirty cover and read the words written above and below the star, all in some sort of silvery ink. ‘Equestrian Marshals Handbook, Laws and Regulations’. Sitting back on my haunches, I carefully flipped the book open to the first couple of pages and scanned the index. It seemed to be just what it said, a book of Equestria’s Pre War laws… which I suppose was worthless now. I was surprised, however, at how well preserved the book was despite its age. The pages had yellowed and the binding was loose, but it held up well to my quick skim through the pages. When I’d just about reached the end, something else about the book caught my eye. A loose piece of paper was sticking out from the last couple pages. Pulling it free, I noticed a number of reddish brown spots staining it and arched a brow.

Unfolding the piece of paper, I saw more of the brown spots splattered across the page along with a hastily written note. I’d seen enough of those sorts of stains all across the wasteland to know what they were. I had a sinking feeling I knew who it belonged to given the book I’d found it in. Still… I’d come this far and I settled my eyes upon the first shakily written words.

‘Why’d I ever listen to her? I knew we were still in danger… I knew we needed to keep moving further away from the city. I should have made them drop their positions and carry those who couldn’t keep walking… I should have…

Now they’re dead… all of them… even my Mint. My little Star won’t get up. All I can do is sit here holding her body as the ash continues to fall outside… hell… maybe all of Equestria’s dead. Why didn’t I insist on keeping them moving? I should have done better...

The fires are getting closer to the caves… I’ve tried dragging their bodies inside… they shouldn’t be burned to ashes. Fires all around us… around me. There is no us… only me.

But not for long… the smoke is burning my lungs… and I can feel myself growing weaker from that damned radiation. Damn whoever gave those stripes megaspells... I hope they suffer for what they’ve done to us… to Mint… to my little Star.

I can’t go on… I can’t live without them… Celestia and Luna forgive me for what I’m about to do… but maybe I’ll see them again…’

Glancing back to where Bronze had been, I sighed before folding the note back up and sticking it back inside the book. I suppose that explained what had happened here so long ago, after the survivors arrived from New Oaks. Bronze was forced to watch as his friends and fiancee slowly died around him, either from radiation poisoning or smoke inhalation. After which he attempted or succeeded in committing suicide, depending on how you looked at it. The story might have ended there with a cave full of dead bodies lost forever in a hellish forest, if not for the radiation their bodies soaked up. It transformed them into ghouls… breaking their minds in the process. Although after what some of them had gone through, I imagined some had broken before.

Turning back to the stack of crates, I returned the book back to where I’d found it and stood up. With clipboard in hoof, I returned to the rock and began writing out a message for Bronze’s missing ponies.

The weather had not improved despite the amount of time it’d taken us to get ready to leave. In fact, it seemed to have actually gotten worse. In that time though, Bronzestar had managed to gather up the scattered feral ghouls living around and within the cave. Mint Julep, meanwhile, had gathered what supplies we’d be taking with us and divided them among the other ghouls. The mare had also roused the foals from their slumber and gotten them ready for the journey ahead. I’d helped the two where I could, though it seemed the ferals would only listen to either Bronze or Mint. Why that was I had no idea, and simply decided not to question it.

Standing outside the cave, I glanced skyward from beneath the brim of my hat as rainwater ran across it and onto the ground. The steady drone of the falling rain had been replaced with the far heavier sounds of a full blown thunderstorm. The once distant rumble of thunder was now fully overhead, and overpowered whatever other sounds the wasteland had. At times, the ground itself seemed to shake with the storm’s fury. The wind had picked up, causing the dead trees to creak and groan as what remained of their branches moved about. Within minutes of stepping outside, we’d all become drenched in rain water. At least Wildfire had been correct that it wouldn’t be acid rain… so I suppose there was that.

Lowering my head from the heavens and back to the ground, I scanned the ash covered forest floor. Where before it had been a thick glue like substance, it seemed to become more like mud or quicksand now. Clumps of the stuff still stuck to armor, clothing, or fur and weighed you down as you attempted to move through it. This was far worse than when I’d original entered the forest because now the extra weight threatened to sink you deeper into the bog-like ground. The forest seemed more intent than ever on killing anypony who dared enter it.

Traveling through it now would have been all but impossible for myself or anypony else. With no landmarks to speak of, no map, and no Pipbuck, a pony would become hopelessly lost within the labyrinth of dead trees. The ash would drag them deeper as they searched for a way out, sapping their strength alongside the high levels of radiation until finally they collapsed. Luckily for us, however, we had somepony who knew the forest well, according to Bronze.

Standing in front of us was a former pegasus mare, what bits of her coat remaining was a rich forest green. Her wings were surprisingly intact unlike some of the other feral pegasus ghouls I’d seen. Only a few feathers seemed to be missing from them. Every so often the ghoul would shift them, something I’d seen Wildfire do whenever she was nervous. It made me wonder if some of her personality had remained. The ghoul mare’s mane and tail had been a very light orange color and a few loose strands of each clung to her body.

“Give ’er a moment… just needs time ta orientate herself since th’ fire burned through this part of th’ forest,” Bronze whispered to Mint and myself as the ghoul mare’s ears flicked away from the sound and back to the direction we’d all been facing. I had been surprised when Bronze had brought the ghoul pegasus to meet me shortly before we’d finished packing up the supplies.

When he first entered the cave with her in tow, my initial impression of her was that of just another one of the ferals living in the caves. However, I’d quickly been forced to rethink that when she’d looked at me. I saw understanding within her eyes. She held that same spark of life as Bronze and Mint. The pony she had once been was still there under all that rotting flesh. When I’d greeted her, she’d merely nodded her head and remained silent. Bronze had explained that she hadn’t spoke much since the bombings. I wondered if it had something to do with that, or the effects the bombings had on their bodies. Had she lost the ability to speak completely?

Bronze went on to explain that her name was Fleethoof, and pointed out there was no relation to the Wonderbolt. The way he’d said it had been almost joking, and the pegasus had smiled slightly at the comment. I suppose it was an inside joke between the two, or perhaps something similar and nodded my head in understanding. Still, it didn’t explain why he’d decided to introduce me to the mare. Thankfully he got to that part quickly.

As it turned out, Fleethoof was one of the most knowledgeable ponies around when it came to the twisting turns of the forest trails and the surrounding countryside; a somewhat unusual fact since pegasi were not widely known for their skill with plants as earth ponies were. The mare had actually been born to earth pony parents. Pegasus blood had been passed down through the generations, resulting in her given wings. However, she’d retained the special abilities of her parents and was in fact quite larger in stature than most pegasi I’d met. This was also the reason Brightblade was so large compared to normal unicorns, his father having been an earth pony.

Lighting flashed overhead and I snapped myself back to the present, looking back towards the pegasus. She began taking a few careful steps forwards, head lowered closer to the ground as she looked about the forest. Cold rivets of rainwater flowed down my unarmored fur and matted strands of my mane to my neck. I looked away from Fleethoof to check on my passenger. A small, amber colored face peered back up at me from beneath a piece of dark purple plastic. Blond strands of her mane stuck to her damp face as wide green eyes stared up into mine. I smiled softly to the filly, Softheart, as she wiggled a bit further back under her cover to try and escape the rain.

“You alright, Softheart?” I asked the filly, her eyes blinking a couple times as she flicked her ears towards the sound of my voice.

“Yes, sir… just a bit cold…” she whispered back, stuttering a bit as she shivered under the cover.

“Ah think she’s got her bearin’s now,” Bronze spoke up more loudly this time, returning my attention to the ghouls standing ahead of us. Fleethoof had taken several more steps away from the herd and was pawing at the ground between two large trees. I was surprised to see her standing almost completely free of the muck, despite the fact another ghoul was standing beside her up to his knees in the stuff. Perhaps it had to do with pegasus magic? Though ash was a far cry from clouds, I’d think.

“Everypony be sure they got everythin’... Ah doubt we’ll be comin’ this way again anytime soon,” Mint said as she checked her saddlebags one last time. Upon her back was another piece of the purple plastic we’d found in the cave and cut up. Under it, lay two of the ghoul foals. One I noticed was the same that had treated Softheart with Rad-Away. Beside her were four feral mares, all carrying foals… perhaps even their own. A good number of them also wore saddlebags packed with the supplies we’d taken from within the cave. Even with the ferals helping to carry as much as they would, we still didn’t manage to take everything with us. I suggested we move most of those items that were still good into the back of the caves, to try and help them last longer. If the ponies of Janesville had any way to safely reach the caves and recover them, they’d be invaluable and I didn’t want them going to waste. Too many ponies had died for them for them to simply rot.

“Alright everypony… if we’re gonna catch up with Marshal Shadow’s group of survivors, we’re gonna need ta double time it. As Ah told each and everyone of ya’ll, this is th’ best chance we’ve got at survivin’ this mess.” I looked back up towards Bronzestar as he began speaking. The ghoul marshal had stepped out in front of the others and was looking over his herd of ferals, the ponies he had attempted to save from New Oaks. “We can’t hide here forever and we all agreed it’d be best ta make a run for it while we got friends to guide us into th’ unknown.” His eyes lowered towards the ground. He took a deep breath before looking back into the eyes of the ghouls around him and continued, “Ah promised ta look after each and everyone of ya… and Ah’ll see ya through whatever’s ahead.” With that said, he looked back towards Fleethoof and nodded his head once to the mare. At the unspoken command, the pegasus began leading the ferals forward. Surprisingly enough they didn’t even seem to hesitate for a second, trotting faithfully along behind her. Mint stepped between Bronze and myself and offered the ghoul pony a small smile and a gentle nuzzle to the cheek.

“Don’t ya fret none, Bronze. We’ll make it through this yet,” she said softly to the marshal, who merely smiled down to the mare before he began following after the others.

As I fell into step behind them, I silently prayed they’d make it this time. Somehow though, I doubted the wasteland was through with this band of ponies.

With Fleethoof’s assistance, we made good time towards the highway. The ghoul mare had an almost sixth sense about what lay beneath the shifting, mud-like forest floor. A number of times thus far she’d halted and redirected the line of ragged ponies around hidden pitfalls that anypony else would never have noticed. A short time after leaving the cave she’d even found a path of stones for us to travel along, increasing our speed greatly as we didn’t have to force our way through the ash. I guess it all had to do with the pegasus’ knowledge of the area as a child, though I would have thought that so much had changed to make such knowledge almost useless.

The stone path we followed was littered with debris from the past, from the rotted half buried wagons of the forest’s original inhabitants and perhaps those who had fled here after the bombings to the odd bone or rusted tool and weapons of those ponies. There had even been a burned out sky chariot a mile back. When I first saw it I’d become concerned it belonged to Wild, that my winged friend had come looking for me and had been shot down. As we’d gotten closer to it (and I’ll admit I’d began running towards it) I could see it had actually been here for sometime. Unlike my friend’s, this one was badly rusted and much of its roof had been ripped away. There were also a number of markings across its sides, but were so badly faded with age that I couldn’t make out what they’d been.

The storm that had seemed to follow us from the caves for the past two hours had begun to die out. The thunder and lightning had all but stopped completely. The wind had settled as well as the rain. What had begun as steady downpour was becoming a slight drizzle. Still the damage to the ground had been done, and I doubted it would dry anytime soon. With the storm fading, the lighting hadn’t gotten any better. In fact it only seemed to get darker within the forest as we traveled. I wondered if perhaps it wasn’t going to be another short day.

“It’s so… dark and scary looking…” Softheart said from her place upon my back. I couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the young filly’s words.

Here we are, surrounded by what amounted to the trotting dead, and she was more afraid of the dark than anything else. I glanced back to the young filly, seeing she’d poked her head out from beneath the tarp cover, ears laid back flat to her mane. I smiled to her and asked, “Yes it is, but I don’t think we have much to fear from it beyond the radiation… did you already take your medicine?” Before we’d begun our journey, I’d made sure she knew where to find the Rad-Away in my saddlebags. She nodded her head and looked up to me before answering.

“Yes, sir. Just a few minutes ago.” I was about to return my focus to the path ahead of us when I noticed my little passenger had spotted something, or rather somepony of interest.

Following her stare, I found it directed towards Mint Julep’s back and the two ghoul foals sheltered there. Or to one foal in particular. The dark blue coated unicorn filly had remained near motionless for much of the trip, as had her fellow ghoul foals. When she sensed somepony watching her, the young filly lifted her head from Mint’s back and looked over towards us. When she noticed Softheart looking over towards her, I noticed a hint of a smile appear on the ghoul filly’s face.

“Made a friend?” I asked back to my passenger, offering another kind smile to the dark blue filly. Softheart nodded her head and, despite not seeing her face, I could sense the smile from her voice.

“Yeah… at least… I think so. I never had a friend before.”

“Never?” I asked, turning back around to look at my passenger. I would be surprised if nopony found the little filly friendly. She’d been nothing but polite and happy since waking up and had even attempted her very best to help us prepare to leave the cave.

“No… well… not really. Mommy and Daddy moved around so much, they’re traders… or were. They had to stop cause the roads weren’t safe anymore for a filly, that’s what Daddy said. So they sold all their stuff and settled in Old Oaks.”

Not safe for a filly… true enough, but in the end Old Oaks hadn’t proven anymore safer than the roads. I turned away from Softheart to stare at the path, ears flicking back a bit. Again, I wondered if she’d lost anypony when the wagon she’d been riding on crashed. Spirit had managed to save a badly wounded mare who most likely had been her mother… and there had been two stallions pulling the wagon. I hadn’t told her yet what had happened, and thankfully she hadn’t asked yet. “Ah, I see. Didn’t you make friends with the other fillies and colts in your school?” I turned back to look at my passenger once more.

“No… I was shy when I first started school… I’d never seen so many ponies my own age before…” Somehow, I managed to keep from chuckling as the little filly ducked her head back under the tarp.

“Well, Ah’m sure Star would like ta be yer friend. She’s not said much since we found shelter in th’ caves,” Mint Julep said from beside me, the mare having slowed to walk beside us. “And Ah’m right sorry for eavesdroppin on ya’ll, but not like there’s a whole lot bein’ said.” The mare said with a wave of her hoof to the silent ferals around us.

“It’s alright, Mint,” I responded with a smile to the mare. My ears perked back up as I looked over to the dark blue filly, Star seeming to be her name.

“Ah’m afraid my little filly’s never been th’ sort ta make friends easily,” Mint continued and glanced back to the filly in question who narrowed her glowing green eyes upon who it seemed was her mother. “Always gettin’ inta trouble and startin’ fights with th’ other foals.” Despite her words, I saw a smile form over Mint’s muzzle. “Takes after her father.”

Father? Well… I suppose if Mint was her mother and, given what I’d observed thus far, I guess her father would be Bronzestar. Ah, and this would be ‘his little star’ he’d mentioned in his note. I’d at first thought he’d been talking about Mint…

“What about you, Marshall? Any foals back home?” I blinked when she asked the question and she hurriedly added, “Oh… Ah’m sorry, hon… Ah didn’t think… Ah mean, what with th’ bombin’s and so many cities destroyed…” She paused when she noticed me smiling kindly over towards her.

“It’s alright, Mint. Really,” I began, attempting to put the kind unicorn at ease over what she’d said. “To answer you question, no, I’m afraid I don’t have any children of my own. Simply never found the right mare to settle down with and start a family… yet.” If Wild had her way, I’d likely settle down with a half dozen mares.

“That’s a right shame, Marshal. Ya’ll should really find th’ time ta do so… my Bronze might not say as much, but Ah know he’s happier now than when Ah first started datin’ him.” Mint smiled up towards the ghoul pony keeping watch ahead of us. “Ah think family is th’ most important thin’ in a pony’s life.”

“I agree completely… if not for ponies needing help out here, I’d likely be back home raising my niece, Sugarpie,” I chuckled as I thought of the little ball of pink energy. “She’s a real hoof full sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade all the trouble for anything.”

“Oh? How long have ya been raisin’ her?”

“I suppose ever since she was born, I helped my sister Ebony as much as I could. Her husband died before Sugar was born,” I answered. “For the past month it’s just been the two of us.”

“Ah’m sorry, Marshall.”

“It’s alright… the pain’s still there, but I’m just happy Tiny’s doing better.” Mint cocked her head towards me in confusion and I smiled back. “It’s my nickname for Sugar. She was born a bit early and was quite small when she arrived. She’s always been a good filly, but sometimes she can be a real hoof full. Lately she’s been getting into a bit of trouble, starting fights with school yard bullies. If it’s not that, then she’s off on one of her adventures in the apartment building we live in.”

Mint chuckled softly and looked back ahead of us, a smile still on her lips. “Well, it sounds like she might be takin’ a bit after her uncle then.”

A image of Tiny dressed up as me on Nightmare Night popped into my head and I couldn’t stop my own chuckle escaping me. She’d been so proud of her card board armor and shotgun, bravely protecting her friend from the bad ponies.

“I guess she does.”

“It sounds much like what Star did a few days ago when one of the older colts started picking on her friend…” Mint trailed off slowly as she came to a halt, ears perked towards the path ahead.

I turned my focus back to the ferals in front of me. They had all halted and stood stock still in the ash, ears perked towards something only they could hear. Even Bronze stood unmoving, his face an unreadable mask as he stared further ahead of us. When I looked to see what everypony was looking at, I saw Fleethoof with one fore leg lifted to call a halt to our little group. The pegasus’ wings were spread and she looked ready to run at a moment’s notice.

I stood still for several minutes, ears perked, straining to hear whatever had caught Fleethoof’s attention while Softheart slid back fearfully under her cover. Around us, the falling rain slowly began to slacken to a halt and with it, the steady drone of water striking the soaked ground eased. As the forest became almost deathly silent, I could make out the distant sounds that Fleethoof had caught before us.

Even as far away as it sounded, it was unmistakable for anypony who’d been in combat. The drone of the rainfall was replaced by the rattle of firearms and the shouts of ponies fighting for their lives. We had reached the highway at last… and the convoy of Old Oak survivors. I looked to my side at Bronze and noticed the other stallion already looking back at me. We didn’t say anything… there was nothing to say.

We both knew what we had to do.

“Mint… Ah want ya ta take th’ foals and wounded back ta that last hill we crossed,” Bronze said, turning back towards the mare who’d come towards him a bit at the sounds of fighting. She was just about to protest, but he cut her off. “Ah want ya ta stay there with ’em till we come back for ya, and Ah don’t want ya ta argue with me about it.” The marshal’s eyes softened a bit and he laid a hoof gently upon her shoulder, head moving closer to hers. “Please,” he whispered that last word pleadingly to the mare as his eyes shifted to the silent filly on her back.

A mixture of emotions washed across the ghoul mare’s face as she looked into the stallion’s eyes. Anger, fear, understand, respect, and love wared for domination as she stood before Bronze. Her ears wilted as her emotions slowly began to fall into check. Finally, it seemed understanding had won out in the end and she nodded her head curtly before leaning up and kissing his cheek.

“Ya’ll better come back for me soon, Bronzestar… or Ah’ll come find ya,” she answered before looking away. A hint of softly glowing tears ran down her cheeks as she trotted back towards me.

“Ah don’t doubt ya will…” the marshal said before looking away. His own glowing eyes blinked rapidly as he began calling out the names of those ferals nearby. “Gingersnap, Pineneedles, Appleleaf, and Lemontart- yer with Mint. Help ’er with th’ foals and wounded and don’t let any stripes get ta them. Th’ rest of ya are with Marshal Shadow and myself.”

I turned to look at Softheart still riding upon my back. The little filly’s ears lay flat against her head as the sounds of gunfire and shouting increased in pitch. Shivering in fear, she seemed reluctant to leave the safety of her tarp. She would have likely remained if a soft green aura hadn’t surrounded the foal and lifted her up, still wrapped in her cover. Looking back to Mint, I saw her horn glowing as she levitated the fearful filly across to her own back and down between the ghoul foals she’d been carrying. Star looked from her father to the filly beside her before she pressed herself against Softheart and wrapped a foreleg across the shivering foal’s covered shoulder.

“Ah’ll look after her, Marshal… just look after my Marshal…” Mint whispered to me. The ferals assigned to help her took the remaining foals from the backs of those who’d no doubt be following Bronze and I further down the hill.

“I’ll do my best, Mint,” I answered, nosing the safety of Luna’s Ruse off and nodding once to the medical mare and the foals she carried. Turning away from the small group I noticed six ferals missing limbs hobbling back towards her, the wounded I imagined. I glanced to them as I passed, seeing signs of recently applied bandages to their old wounds. The last pony to pass me spared me a glance and oddly a half smile. I wasn’t sure if he knew me or, like the others, was just reacting to things… but maybe.

Shaking my head, I turned away and hurriedly chased after the others who had already covered the distance to the next hill we’d been set to climb. Catching up quickly despite the sludge, I climbed the last few steps of the hill to join Bronzestar and a small number of feral ghouls standing at what appeared to be the edge of the tree line. Indeed, I crested the small rise and saw the hill drop back down again, stopping at the highway a short distance away.

“Well, Shadow… this ain’t how Ah wanted ta meet yer friends,” Bronze said as I trotted up beside him and came to a halt. My eyes took in the sight below me even as Bronze’s shifted from looking to his ferals to me. Beyond the hill lay raiders… well over two dozen of them judging by a quick head count.

“Well, they say first impressions are the most important,” I responded. I tore my eyes away from the spike armored forms moving about below us and offered a smile over to the stallion. “I’d think galloping to the rescue would look fairly favorable on the strangers’ behalf.” That earned a snort of laughter from the ghoul as he turned back towards the scene before us.

“Ah reckon yer right about that, it worked on winnin’ the heart of a certain infuriatin’ mare Ah know,” he added as the last of the ferals who’d be making the charge with us gathered around us. I noticed Fleethoof standing nearby as well, the mare’s ears laid back as she stared down the hill we stood atop. The ghouls around us began to grow restless as the sounds of gunshots increased. Bronze’s mood switched from a jolly one to one of a serious lawpony. “Th’ hill we’re on leads straight down onta th’ road as ya can see. Fleethoof did a quick check further down th’ roadway while we was waitin’ on ya. Seems them raiders ya spoke of got yer convoy bottlenecked.”

Looking past the raiders and towards the north west, I saw the wagons of Old Oaks lined up along the highway, trapped at a narrow section of the road. Something had crashed into the forest floor a half mile further north and left a deep trench. Large rusting bits of metal were scattered across the ground until finally crossing the highway. Much of the pavement had been ripped away by whatever had crash landed. Subsequently those broken parts of the road had been swallowed by the shifting ash dunes, which had turned to sludge by the relentless rain. This left only a narrow strip of stable ground for wagons to cross. It was here that the raiders had caught them. On the far side of the gap lay a smoking wagon, further blocking the path. Of my friends and the sky chariot, I saw no sign.

There was no escape for the convoy now. It was either stand and fight, or be killed as they attempted to flee across the sucking muck. Unless they got help… only problem with that was our current position on the hill side. True the raiders hadn’t seen us yet, nor did they have any reason to suspect an attack on their flank. It’d be safer if we could circle around the raiders and assault them from behind, catching them between us and the convoy’s guns rather than charging down in line of sight of both convoy and the raiders.

“Ah don’t reckon we’ve th’ time ta circle round back,” Bronze spoke up, pointing out the issue I’d seen. “Those ponies won’t last long once th’ raiders realize there’s no way they can withstand a frontal assault… and judgin’ by what Ah’m see’en, Ah gotta feelin’ them raiders ain’t worried about casualties.” The ghoul stallion’s eyes narrowed and he pawed angrily at the ground. “Ya we’re right about them raiders… they look like ponies, but they fight like monsters.”

“I’d rather not charge headlong into their flank… while we’ll have the element of surprise, it’ll put us in danger of the convoy’s weapons.” In truth, I was worried that the ponies defending the convoy would simply fire wildly into the two groups. After all, to them they’d simply be firing at a herd of feral ghouls. I’d hoped we would have managed to link back up with them long before encountering any raiders, that way I could explain why a group of feral ghouls was fighting for them.

“Ah reckon them civilians would get a might jumpy see’in another group of ponies appear suddenly. We are a bit ragged… but once they see us fightin’ the raiders, Ah’d hope some of’em have th’ sense ta hold their fire.” Bronze looked away from the raiders below us and over to me, confusion on his face. He’d gotten my point… or at least the gist of it.

“Maybe… but like your group, they’ve been through a lot.” Not by a long shot, but it was the best I could do to explain my reasoning for wanting to avoid friendly fire. “Perhaps if they saw me fighting beside your ponies that might hold their fire.” It was a slim hope at best and I’d just as likely get a bullet in the ass for my trouble, but I had to at least try. Who knows, it could work.

“Seems a might risky… but if yer sure they might just fire blindly into us, Ah don’t see we’ve another choice,” Bronze answered as the feral ghouls around us began snorting and pawing at the soft sludge beneath our hooves. They were getting more restless and agitated the longer we waited. We also were running out of time to decide, as it seemed the raiders were readying themselves for a charge. The ghoul marshall turned back towards the roadway and snorted. “First impressions on th’ raiders.”

“I’m sure it’s one they won’t soon forget,” I added, gripping my shotgun’s firing bit into my mouth.

“Reckon this is where Ah’m suppose ta give some inspirin’ speech or another…” Bronze muttered to himself from beside me as he loosened his six shooter on his chest. The marshal glanced to the ferals around him and me, before a grin slowly formed upon his muzzle once more. “Nothin’s comin’ ta mind so… fuck it… let’s give ’em hell ponies!!” he shouted while yanking out his sidearm. Without giving us a second look he charged down the hill, with the ferals snarling and growling down after their leader.

I followed them quickly over the lip of the hill and down the slope. I nearly lost my hoofing as I did, but at the last second I managed to correct it and began picking up speed. The ash turned goop had been a major hindrance in my journey thus far, but now it proved to be helpful. While it did turn the hillside into a slippery hazard, it had the side effect of masking the hoof-falls of over two dozen ghouls charging down towards the raiders. The raiders didn’t realize they were under attack until we’d nearly reached the bottom of the hill. By then, it was too late to do much more than fire off a couple wild shots towards us.

A ghoul beside me yelped out in pain as a round tore into her shoulder and sent her tumbling into the ground. Another feral ahead of me dropped down as the right side of his head and neck were struck by a raider firing madly with his assault rifle on full auto. I leapt over the fallen pony and squeezed the trigger of Luna’s Ruse quickly. The first round missed the raider completely, my landing having thrown off my aim a bit as I stumbled in the muck, but the second and third stuck the raider in the shoulder and lower leg. He dropped to the ground in time for a pair of ferals who’d been running ahead of me to leap upon him.

As they’d done to the single raider I’d fallen into their camp with, the ghouls attacked the raiders in a wild fury of hooves, teeth, and raw muscle. Throats were ripped open, limbs torn off, and skulls crushed as the tide of undead ponies reached the raiders’ exposed flank. The one I downed met a messy end, but I found little compassion for the dead raider as his fellows began firing into the ferals. More of the ghouls dropped, but most got right back up and continued to fight, ignoring wounds that would have sent a normal pony into shock. By now the raiders were in disarray, unsure which direction they were getting attacked from and began backing away from the convoy.

Working my way towards the left side of the ferals, I attempted to make myself as visible as I could to the convoy sitting further down the road. As I expected, they hadn’t let up on their firing as the herd of ferals appeared from the forest. I quickly began to suspect Stone was one of the ponies firing into the raiders. The reason why was when a raider’s head exploded messily near the front of their ranks, one who’d been turning towards me. However, more than a couple ferals were hit by the incoming fire from down the road and I had to do something before this turned into a massacre for my new friends.

“Hold your fire!! The ghouls are on our side!!” I shouted out, dropping Luna’s Ruse from my mouth as I ran into the middle of the two groups. A round struck my shoulder guard and bounced off into the melee. “Hold your fire, damnit!” I yelled out again angrily. I was taking fire from both directions, but I didn’t allow that to stop my frantic waving and shouting. I was about to take a step away from the ghouls and towards the convoy when movement from my left caught my attention. A raider pushed himself free from the ghouls, a bloody knife clutched in his jaws and his own blood running from a number of wounds across his body. He seemed more desperate to escape than anything else. However, he quickly started running towards me when he spotted me.

Grabbing ahold of the firing bit of my shotgun, I hurriedly yanked it upward and snapped off two rapid shots towards the raider. Once again, my first shot missed, but still struck a raider in the side further back in the fighting mass of bodies. He fell a second later as a ghoul pounced atop him. The second shot struck the charging raider in the chest and staggered him. However, unlike most armor raiders wore, his largely stood up to the impact due to it being recovered combat armor of some sort. It didn’t withstand the third and fourth shots I fired into his body, his armor shattering as did the ribcage it had been protecting as it was pounded by the solid slugs. He dropped, the knife flying from his mouth as his head struck the pavement.

The clatter of hooves from behind me was all the warning I got and I quickly ducked my head as something large sailed past it. Blindly, I lashed out with my hind legs and felt my hooves striking something metal. Using the impact, I swiftly (if not gracefully) distanced myself from my attacker and turned about to face him. It was with little surprise that I found myself facing a rather large earth pony stallion with a street sign gripped firmly between his rotting, yellowed teeth. They do grow them big in the wasteland it seems… near constant fighting played a role I imagined. The raider’s nostrils flared as he snorted and took several steps towards me, his head lifting the rather sharp looking sign skyward.

I had no doubt it’d easily split my skull in two. As it descended towards me, I rapidly sidestepped the strike and fired off another round into the mass of muscles, spikes, and scars. The shot grazed the raider’s shoulder, drawing a bit of blood but doing little else. What the fuck’s wrong with me? I can’t hit the broadside of a barn!! To make matters worse, my E.F.S. was mostly working now that I was back atop the roadway. The ammo counter had dropped from twelve to five. Sparks erupted from where the sign impacted the pavement beside me. With a twist of his head, the sign was brought in a sudden swing into my side. My saddlebags and armor took the brunt of the impact, but I felt the sign’s edge dig into my unarmored flanks. I snarled in pain as I staggered to the side from the strike.

With my options limited, I went with a quick finish to the fight. I stepped into the earth pony’s reach, shoving Luna’s Ruse directly into his chest and firing off two shots. Needless to say, I didn’t miss this time and was splattered with blood and flesh as the raider shuddered once and died. He crumpled to the ground, a smoking hole blown deep into his chest. I was forced to quickly step back lest I end up buried beneath him. As he dropped, the sign slid free of his grip, but cut me even more as it moved. However, I’d become accustomed to pain in my time in the wasteland. I ignored it and the feeling of blood running down my flank and leg to focus on the fighting around me.

The raiders nearest me were largely focused on the ferals snapping at their necks and flanks. It seemed the sudden attack of ghouls had completely broken the raiders’ focus on the convoy. A few were even attempting to retreat back up the highway. I noticed the incoming fire from the convoy had slacked a bit as well and I glanced back towards them. It was then I noticed an orange shape hurtling towards me from the convoy’s lines. I smiled in relief, knowing that at least most of my friends were alright if the fiery maned mare was here.

Wildfire came in like her namesake, battle-saddles blazing madly into the raiders nearest me. Unfortunately in her haste, she’d almost struck a couple of the ghouls as well. They snarled up towards the mare, snapping their teeth at her before they were forced to focus once more on the raiders attempting to fire their guns or stab them with melee weapons. I frantically waved a hoof towards my friend, attempting to wave her off from her attack run before she could hit a ghoul. As she neared, I could see the confusion on her face, but she released the firing bit of her weapons and flared her wings open to slow down. As the muzzle flashes died, she landed beside me and happily tackled me to the ground.

“You’re alive! Are you fucking stupid running out into the middle of a fire fight even with ghouls chasing you?!” she yelled into my face as the wind was knocked from my lungs. All I could do was blink up at her as she held me pinned down. “Of course you're fucking stupid… it wouldn’t be you if you aren't risking your flanks for others… now stay down… I’ll try and drive some of these ghouls off!” The mare took up a more defensive stance and started reaching for her battle-saddles’ firing bit.

Seeing she had no intention of letting me get a word in before she opened fire on the ghouls nearest us, I was forced to grab ahold of her head and yank her down atop me. Despite her slender frame, she wasn’t exactly made of clouds… either she’d been putting on weight thanks to Stone’s cooking or her battle-saddle weighed more than I thought. Her stormy blue eyes widened in surprise and she managed a slight yelp of surprise before her muzzle was pushed into my chest. As it turned out, the impromptu hug saved her life as a sudden rain of bullets whizzed past overhead from the raiders’ lines. Their barrage ended as ghouls locked onto the sudden noise and charged into them.

“They’re on our side, Wild!” I shouted into her folded back ears as the raiders unleashed their automatic weapons into the attacking ghouls. I heard a few yelps of pain from the ferals, but the firing soon stopped afterwards as the raiders became bogged down in fighting for their lives.

“What do ya mean they’re on our side!? They’re feral ghouls for Celestia’s sake!!” she yelled back as she wormed her way free of my grip and stood back up. Her stormy blue eyes fixed upon the rotted corpses of the dead ghouls near us.

“They just are… look, I don’t have time to explain everything, Wild!! We’re in the middle of a fucking firefight! I just need you to fly your ass back to the others and tell ’em to only target the raiders!!” I’d never taken that tone of voice with the pegasus, or any of my friends really… but I needed to make my point clear. To my surprise, Wild merely cocked her head a bit before looking back up to the ghouls fighting the raiders. Her feathers ruffled a bit before she looked back down to me and pushed a hoof against my chest.

“Sheesh, first ya start callin’ yourself a Marshal and then ya get all bossy like,” She smirked, head tilted to the side as I frowned up at her. She held her fore hooves up in surrender and added, “Alright alright, I’ll go tell ’em, but…” Her look turned serious and her left fore leg poked me solidly in the chest. “After this settles down, you’re telling me what the hell’s going on!” All I could do was nod my head as she poked my chest three more times. Her wings flared open with a snap and she launched herself skyward. With a twist of her body, the mare rocketed back towards the convoy and the rest of my friends. Damnit… I shoulda asked about Spirit and Carrion. Rolling over myself, I checked to see just how those ghouls I’d spoken up for were doing. What I saw both relieved and worried me.

The raiders had been driven completely back from the convoy as the ferals’ sudden appearance forced them to fight foes on two fronts. Judging by the number of spike armored bodies scattered across the highway, I’d say the attack had succeeded in killing a good number of our enemies. It hadn’t all gone our way, however, as a couple of ferals lay mixed among the raiders. I frowned at the sight, but knew there couldn’t have been any other outcome to this once we’d left the ferals’ cave. I rose fully to my hooves and took a few steps towards the fighting. It was time to even the odds back in favor of my new silent friends. I was about to turn back towards my saddlebags to quickly reload the shotgun, but a round struck near my hooves and caused me to look ahead.

A raider came rushing towards me from the press of bodies, a crazed look in her yellowed eyes. The spike maned unicorn was wielding a simple 9mm pistol in her dark blue magical aura and was rapidly snapping off shots towards me. I’d just closed my teeth about my firing bit when one of the rounds nearly found its mark, my ears twitching as something zipped past my face. The solid metal slug hurled from Luna’s Ruse halted the raider’s charge as her neck and shoulder burst open and she tumbled to the pavement. The pistol clattered uselessly to the pavement as she rolled to a halt before me, blood running from the wound I’d given her. Stepping over her body, I glanced down at the raider and frowned… I’d been aiming for her chest.

A nearby cry of pain reached my ears despite the maelstrom of sounds assaulting them and pushed the thoughts of my sudden poor aim from my mind. Turning my head towards the source of the sound, I spotted a ghoul mare stumbling towards me. She made it only a few more steps before she dropped to her flanks, blood running down her front leg and shoulder from the newly made bullet holes. Following close behind her, with a cruel smirk on his snout, was one of the raiders. His pistol was still smoking lightly from his last few shots. The earth pony dropped the gun from his mouth, appearing to be out of ammo judging from the fully extended slide. He reached for a crudely made mace hanging from his belt.

He never noticed me standing across from him, his focus still fixed upon the helpless ghoul. As he lifted the blunt weapon skyward to crush her skull, I lifted my own weapon and leveled the barrel at his chest before squeezing the trigger. I only had three shots left, but it would have to be enough. The slug tore through his leg instead of his chest, but it had been the one supporting his weight as he shifted his neck and head. The wounded limb gave out as it was all but blown apart by the powerful strike and he fell to the ground before the feral. She wasted no time in turning upon her falling attacker to end his life messily. However, it seemed I still wouldn’t have the chance to reload Luna’s Ruse.

More raiders began approaching us almost immediately after the last one’s body stopped jerking about. The ghoul finished him off and he lay on the ground lifeless. There seemed to be no end to them… I began wondering if perhaps the entire population of Equestria hadn’t all died in the bombings, but had instead decided to all become raiders. Two shots… at least a half dozen raiders near me if not all of them focused on me… no time to reload. Time for a change in weapons. Dropping Luna’s Ruse, I lifted my left foreleg up towards my face as my muzzle lowered to meet it. The firing bit of my sidearm, the Raging Buck, brushed against my teeth as they closed about it and I yanked the weapon from its holster. Tightening my grip on the firing bit, I charged forward and snapped off two of my five shots.

One actually hit its mark, spinning the female raider a complete three-sixty as blood flew from the newly opened crater where her right hind hip had been. She was as good as dead. The second shot missed its mark completely and allowed a large brute of a raider to swing his fire axe into the neck of the slowly rising feral ghoul ahead of me. The weapon sunk into her neck and she staggered back to the ground in obvious pain and distress. I snarled in rage at both the raider for wounding the former pony, and myself for failing to stop him. Shouldering aside another raider who had become busy fighting off more of the ghouls, I rushed towards the large axe armed raider and his prey.

Leaping over the body of the dead three legged raider laying in the center of the highway, I closed the distance between myself and the pair. I held my fire until I was nearly upon my target, no longer trusting my aim at any distance…. not to save a life and tip off my target. As I closed in, I pulled the trigger and felt the metal firing bit slide along my teeth as the miniature cannon recoiled into my mouth. The high caliber round tore through his unprotected side, doing massive damage both external and internal if the sight of blood exploding from his mouth was any indication.

The large stallion dropped dead to the ground with a hole in his side large enough to fit both my fore hooves through. He gave a final gasp of air and lay still finally beside the whimpering ghoul pony he’d attempted to kill. I hastily reholstered my revolver and reached out to grab the axe handle still wobbling about as the wounded ghoul lay on the ground in pain.

As gently as I could, I pulled the axe head still embedded in the feral’s neck. It slid free with a sickening sucking noise of flesh and blood and the poor thing lay whimpering loudly on the pavement. Dark blood dripped from the axe and down onto a slowly spreading pool beside the mare… her glowing eyes darting about wildly in fear at the sounds of raiders near us. She deserved a better end than this… she looked so afraid, so alone… they’d all deserved a better end than this.

“Hahaha… whadda we got here? A wounded meat sack and a weak little stallion?” a harsh voice called out from my right. I hurriedly turned towards its owner, seeing a group of four raiders trotting lazily towards us despite the chaos happening around us. My ears lay back further as I glanced from one twisted pony to the others. All had spiked and blood stained armor, rusted weapons, and bits of ponies hanging from their bodies. The leader of the group had a blood red, spike maned head and what appeared to be a nail driven half way into his skull. His tail was all but nonexistent. The four all wore odd necklaces with large beads of some sort… at least that’s what I thought until they stepped closer and a bit of light caught on the glossy white ball with blue irises. Eyes.

“Yeah… yeah boss… two meat puppets wantin’ fer us ta play with!” said the raider to the right of the leader. His yellowed, pointed teeth flashed a wicked grin. I could smell his foul odor from where I stood and I narrowed my eyes upon him. Like the others, he wore a necklace of eyes. However, most of his were smaller…

“I call dibs on th’ mare… worked up a bit of an itch in my loins after chasin’ these damned ponies from that fuckin’ town,” another said, stepping around his leader. He eyed the downed ghoul behind me with hunger and noticeable arousal, thanks to his stance. Shit… did they put spikes on everything? The comment (or my look of revolt) earned a chorus of dark laughter from the group. That is, until the smallest of the lot noticed something on my chest and took a step back.

“Oh fuck… oh shit… he’s that there law pony they’ve been talkin’ bout on th’ radio!” I noticed a bit of fear in his voice and a slight shake in his hoof he lifted to point at me. “Th’ Marshal.” The title was said with a note of fear foals normally reserved for ghosts or the monsters under their beds.

The leader’s brow arched over his yellowed, hate filled eyes before they lowered to my chest armor and the silver Equestrian Marshal star pinned to it. His eyes widened and he jerked his head back a bit as if he’d been stung. The remaining two raiders of the group shrunk back a bit as well when they noticed their leader’s reaction. Suddenly, none of them seemed inclined to approach me for fear I might simply kill them with a look. Had I made such a name for myself among the raiders?

For a moment, we all stood staring at one another. While it seemed his lackeys would rather find somepony else to torment, the leader’s tattered ears swung back against his skull as he looked between his fellow raiders and me. I knew what was coming when he locked eyes with me… he couldn’t afford to back down from fighting me. He’d appear weak in front of the others.

“So what if he is?” spike mane said, his earlier fear forgotten as he focused on appearing tough before the other three. He pointed out the obvious fact to his lackeys that they’d seemed to forgotten when they’d discovered who I was. “He’s just one pony… he ain’t nothin’ special.” While it seemed to ease some of the worry from the others, the smaller one still seemed unsure and looked from me to his boss.

“They say he killed th’ whole Bloody Hoof gang aboard their own train and took their slaves…”

“Th’ Bloody Hoof gang was lead by a cunt of a mare and she had a bunch of pussies followin’ her, Scrat. Everypony knew they was a weak bunch,” spike mane snarled out and slapped the smaller raider, Scrat, upside the head with a forehoof. It seemed the comment had struck a nerve with the leader.

“Nails’ right, th’ Bloody Hoof gang wasn’t anythin’ special… only reason they worked for th’ boss was ‘cuz they knew how ta work that damned train of theirs,” said the raider who’d been eyeing the fallen ghoul. He seemed to regain some of his courage from Nails’ words. “‘Sides, th’ boss put a sizeable reward on this Marshal’s head… we’d been rich and have all th’ cunts we’d ever need, Slab.” The latter half seemed directed towards the third raider who eyed me a little less worriedly. The scrawny one, Scrat, still seemed hesitant about fighting me, but it was still three to one and my aim was off.

“Right… so let’s collect that there reward by killen’ this so called Marshal and hurry up and kill th’ rest of these ponies once we’re finished,” Nails said, stepping towards me as a pair of serrated blades floated up beside him, each surrounded in a reddish glow. I blinked and glanced to the raider’s forehead, seeing a matching glow surrounding what I’d mistaken for one of the spikes of his mane. The spiral horn had been coated in either red paint or dried gore (I’d bet on the latter) and had blended in with his mane. At least he hadn’t gone for his rifle slung over his back. Either he felt the four of them could take me in close combat or he was out of ammo.

“Time ta die, little law pony,” gleefully said the unnamed raider beside him. He reached for his own weapon and this time it was a ranged weapon. What looked like a small caliber pistol was being pulled from the raider’s shoulder harness. The raider I assumed that was named Slab pulled a spiked bat from his harness. The last of the group to reach for a weapon was Scrat, but the small raider still seemed unsure of facing off against me. That was fine, one less threat to worry about.

Gripping the fire axe handle tightly between my teeth, I made my move first, surprising the raiders with it. They’d likely been expecting me to go for my shotgun still hanging about my neck, but I’d known better. There wouldn’t have been enough time to drop the fire axe and bring Luna’s Ruse up to bear upon them. They’d have killed me before the axe struck the ground. I also only had two shots left against four raiders… and my aim was off. I instead lunged towards them, intent on getting in close to negate the pistol wielding raider’s aim and to quickly bring him down.

My target’s eyes went wide in panic as I darted between his leader and the raider called Slab, both of whom seemed caught completely off guard as well. The raider before me brought his pistol up quickly and began firing wildly towards me in an attempt to drop me, his tongue squeezing the trigger rapidly. He managed to lose over half of his clip in the time it’d taken me to reach him, rounds whizzing past either side of my body as well as above my head and falling among my hooves. A round struck my shoulder guard, another bounced from my front leg armor, and yet another impacted my neck. Thankfully it had bounced from the pavement and lost much of its force alongside hitting well clear of anything vital. Still hurt like hell and was bleeding freely.

Seeing his shots doing little more than annoying me and sensing his imminent demise closing in, the raider attempted to backpedal away from me as he continued to squeeze his gun’s trigger. Bullets continued to zip past like angry bees as I rushed towards him, the axe swinging upward to put as much weight into my first strike as I could. Now as I neared him, it began its descent and proved to have all the lethality of a freight train striking a melon. The heavy axe head slammed down atop the raider’s unprotected skull with a wet smacking crunch and a gurgling scream that ended quickly. Blood flew from the raider’s mouth and nose as his head was nearly cut in two by the force of my swing. The pistol dropped from his jaw and I jerked my head away, yanking the axe free of the hole I’d just made. His body dropped lifelessly to the pavement.

“Holy shit!!!”

I ignored whoever had yelled as well as the static warnings my Pipbuck was attempting to pop up in my vision. Using the momentum of my reverse swing from the dead raider’s skull, I began to turn towards Nails. He was, after all, my next highest threat in the fight. The raider leader had recovered quickly however from the sudden death of one of his own and brought both his bladed weapons up to block my quick swing, sparks flying away from the strike. Luckily for him he was a unicorn as even an earth pony would have had a hard time taking that much force to the face. As we stood locked together, I saw ghouls and other raiders fighting behind him. Things still seemed to be going mostly our way and it seemed the convoy was picking its shots much more carefully now. If I could finish these three then I’d be able to help push the raiders further back… than we could link up with the convoy...

My neck and jaw ached as I fought to wrestle the blades from Nail’s magical grip even as he fought to rip the fire axe from my mouth. The three weapons ground into one another with the screech of metal on metal and something was going to have to give. I could hear the wooden axe haft straining and was about to shove more weight towards the raider when he made a quick move. While the axe head was halted, he could easily maintain one of his blades in holding it in place and flicked the other towards my face. It was a smart move as it would force me to either release my weapon or get stabbed in the forehead.

Quickly as I could, I lifted my right foreleg upwards to block the slashing blade. Nails’ look of victory quickly disappeared from his face. My Pipbuck once more proved itself a lifesaver as its hard metal casing deflected the strike, sending sparks flying from the point of impact. With his focus on his failed attack, I hurriedly stepped away from him. At the same time, I jerked my neck back and brought the axe with it. The blade still hooked with it was nearly ripped from the unicorn’s magical grasp and he was forced to strengthen his hold at the last second or risk losing it.

While stepping away from Nails allowed me to avoid his blades for a moment, I wasn’t able to avoid the spiked club coming down across my back, nor had I seen its owner approaching me from my right side. The blow nearly buckled my legs out from under me and pain raced up my spine from the blunt force of the weapon. At the same time, I felt something slash across my front, nearly striking my throat. I stumbled back once more as Nails attempted to press his failed attack. With little time to think, I lashed out wildly with the fire axe towards the unicorn, who managed to leap back before the cutting edge could touch him. I wasted no time in attempting to halt the weapon’s flight path, allowing it to continue onward to the right and taking me with it to pivot on my fore hooves.

With Nails to my left and my body following the fire axe through its swing, I spotted my second attacker. Slab, it seemed, had recovered as quickly as his leader. He had stood within my blind spot, nearly right atop me and was preparing to take another swing for my skull. The earth pony had raised his head and neck half way upward to bring his spiked club down for what would be a crushing blow. He was ready to do just that when the movement of my swing brought the axe’s handle into contact with his exposed throat. The rough wooden shaft brutally slammed into his exposed neck, forcing his weapon from his mouth as he gasped for air from the impact. The raider stumbled away from me, clutching at his neck with one forehoof as he’d narrowly avoided having his windpipe crushed, thanks to his earth pony heritage. If I’d hit him just a little harder… still, I was lucky I’d struck him where I had… anywhere else and he’d still be in the fight.

I was just returning my focus on Nails when a sudden burning pain lanced up from just below my left shoulder. I looked down to see a still glowing blade hilt jutting from just under my armored shoulder guard. Nails had used my divided attention to strike where my armor was weakest, in the mesh coating between plates. I could feel blood starting to flow from the wound which was made all the worse when the raider yanked the serrated blade free. I cried out and my vision blurred as the weapon ripped the flesh far worse coming out than going in, the fire axe dropped from my open mouth. New warnings popped into the corner of my eyes as my Pipbuck tracked the wounds

“Time ta die Marshall…” the lead raider said, his face twisted into a grin as my vision cleared. I spotted his second weapon flying straight for my face as he ran behind it. He intended to finish the fight right then and there… and might have succeeded in doing just that if I hadn’t quickly ducked beneath it. I felt the sharp edge of the blade cut through my hat and knock it from my head. The sharp burning pain coming from my shoulder and my back was all but ignored as I fought to stay alive. I was about to grab for Luna’s Ruse and make a desperate shot at the raider rushing towards me when I spotted the fire axe’s wooden handle hovering inches from my nose. The weapon must have bounced a bit when it had struck the highway.

“Not today, asshole…” Instead of the shotgun’s firing bit, I wrapped my teeth about the wooden axe handle tightly before twisting my neck and head around towards Nails. The unicorn let out a startled yelp as the blunt back of the axe head followed my sudden movement and swept into his front legs. The sudden surprise move knocked the lead raider from his hooves and loosened his magical grip upon his weapons, both of which landed upon the pavement about me, one still covered in my blood. So it was a surprise to me when a smaller dagger flew from where the unicorn had fallen and nearly imbedded itself in my chest, my combat armor halting the weapon’s flight. It seemed he had spares… lovely...

As I dodged another one of Nails’ throwing knives he’d pulled from somewhere on his person, I felt something else pass by over my still lowered head ruffling my mane as it went. A quick glance to my side showed me Slab recovering from his swing and about ready to take another at me with his recovered spiked club. I was trapped between the two raiders with nowhere to really move and blood was running freely from my wounded shoulder. Looking back towards Nails I saw him already attempting to get back to his hooves, his twin blades floating back towards him.

Snorting I lifted my head back up and brought my recovered weapon with it. The large weapon moved slowly and lacked the force it’d had upon coming down on the first raider’s head. Still, it struck Nails on his left shoulder and left a rather deep cut as he’d been climbing to his hooves. The raiders’ leader snarled in pain from the strike, but held his ground stubbornly. He lashed out with his right foreleg, catching a glancing blow along my wounded shoulder.

With both of us unbalanced and with Slab still nearby, I decided to fall back a bit and get both my attackers in my field of view. Slab seemed to dislike this idea however, the spike clubbed raider attempting to follow up his previous failed attack with another. I backed up again to avoid the raider’s wild swing, the end of the club ruffling the whiskers on my chin as it sailed past. He wouldn’t give up however, not about to allow me time to recover as he moved in for another swing. I brought my own weapon up to block the attack, grunting as the spiked club impacted the wooden shaft of the axe not far from my face and sending splinters flying from both weapons. Taking another step back, I felt my left hind leg press into something soft and warm behind me. I dared not look, but knew I’d likely backed up into the downed feral I’d been attempting to defend.

Narrowing my eyes, I realized there was nowhere to back up to and once more went on the attack. Ducking from a third wild swing, I stepped forward and swung wildly with the fire axe. The raider dodged it easily as I’d expected, but in so doing he’d been forced to step back and give me a bit of room to work. It wasn’t much, but I took what I could get. I was running on adrenaline now, the pains in my shoulder and back all but forgotten as I focused on the two raiders before me. Taking a step forward away from the wounded ghoul, I pushed my attack into Slab and jabbed hard with the end of the axe head to strike the raider’s chest armor. The wooden grip slid against my teeth from the force of the blow, leaving splinters in my mouth as Slab staggered. He narrowed his blood shot eyes on me as he gasped for air and took a step back to my right. Before he halted, the raider’s twisted face split into an evil grin.

Ah shit…

The grinning raider and the hackles rising along the back of my neck were the only warnings I got about an immediate attack on my backside. With little recourse, I blindly dodged to my left away from Slab and hopefully from whoever had managed to sneak up behind me. Still expecting a blow to my skull or a knife between my shoulders, I turned about to face my new attacker. What I hadn’t expected was some help in covering my back. The fallen ghoul I’d been protecting had wrapped her fore legs about the hindquarters of Scrat, who’d been sneaking up on me with a knife between his lips, and was giving him quite the fight despite her injuries.

The scrawny raider was trying and failing, quite badly I might add, to lash out with the knife he had clutched between his teeth. He was doing little to no damage to the ghoul either due to his own incompetence or a dull blade. Perhaps both. For only a moment the ghoul and I locked eyes and for just that moment it appeared as if a glimmer of intelligence filled those glowing green orbs, as if she was telling me she had this one.

Slowly, I smiled and nodded my head to the ghoul mare in thanks. I wasn’t sure if she understood me or not… honestly though it didn’t really matter. Turning my head back around, I narrowed my eyes upon Nails and Slab as they began approaching me. My teeth gripped the wooden shaft of the fire axe tightly. However, it seemed more than one ghoul was there to help me out. Somepony plowed into Nails’ side, knocking the unicorn away from me and almost off the edge of the road.

“Don’t ya worry none, Marshal, Ah’ll get this one while ya finish off that traitorous bastard with th’ club threatin’ Rosemerry!” Bronze shouted out over the grunts of pain, blasts of gunfire, and clatter of hooves. The ghoul law pony offered me a wide grin as he turned his attention back on Nails, who was just starting to pick himself up. He’d lost his own hat somewhere in the fight and his ruined mane was sticking to his neck and face with sweat, rainwater, and blood. His trench coat had a number of new holes in it as well, but he seemed in good shape. Nails snarled in anger at once more being denied a chance at killing me. He fixed his hate filled eyes upon the ghoul marshal.

I couldn’t see much else as I returned my attention on Slab, who was running towards me once more. His club was rising up to deliver what the raider hoped would be a killing blow. Snorting, I lowered my head and stepped into his attack, taking the blow onto my unwounded shoulder and side. The nails driven into the weapon scratched harmlessly against my armored shoulder, doing little more than scratching the paint. At the same time, I brought the fire axe around and slammed it into the armored side of the raider. The battered weapon had finally had enough it seemed because as the axe head impacted the crude armor, it snapped free of its wooden handle. Still, it had done damage by crumpling Slab’s armor like cheap tin and leaving a nasty gash in the flesh beneath.

Left with little more than a ruined stick clenched between my teeth, I jabbed the splintered end towards his face while he reared back in pain. The bits of splintered wood stabbing him in the neck and jaw loosened his grip on his spiked club and the weapon dropped from his lips. My folded back ears perked as I heard the sound of scrambling hoof steps behind me and I assumed Scrat had rejoined the fight. With Slab grabbing ahold of the broken fire axe handle with his mouth, I struck wildly with my hind legs at whoever had come up behind me. The blind buck missed by a mile and I felt the familiar piercing pain of a blade in my flesh, this time my hindquarters. My neck, meanwhile, felt like it was about to pulled from its socket as the raider in front of me fought for the ruined weapon… well… if he really wanted it so badly...

“You can have it!!” I growled around the stick before releasing it from my mouth. Slab blinked in surprise as he suddenly had nothing to pull against and went stumbling back away from me towards the highway’s edge. At the last second, he recovered his balance and managed to stay on all four hooves. His quick recovery kept him from falling into the ashen ditch, but the raider’s panicked expression turning to one of triumph was short lived.

I slammed my right fore hoof down upon the wooden bat’s handle laying beside me and sent the weapon flying upward. Ignoring the spiked business end of the weapon, I darted my head out and snatched the grip in my teeth. At the same time, I began turning back towards whoever had crept up on me. It turned out to simply be another raider who’d decided to join the fight. He ducked the bat’s swing and hurriedly stepped back from me. However, as I’d done with the axe, I followed the swing through. As I spun back towards Slab, I opened my mouth and released the bat. It flew the short distance between myself and its owner before coming to a halt, embedded in the raider’s forehead.

I didn’t bother watching as Slab dropped to the ground. Either he was very dead from a nail to the brain or knocked out cold, but I still had another raider to deal with. Like all the other raiders, he had on bits and pieces of crude home-made armor as well as wearing a necklace of eyes. Like Nails he was a unicorn, though he seemed far more crazed than the other stallion. That is, if one raider could be thought of as less insane. I guess he’d seen my back turned while fighting ghouls and thought I’d be an easier target. My eyes shifted from the raider approaching me to the dull kitchen knife sticking out of my left flank and back again. What was it with the knives today?

With a half crazed scream the raider launched himself at me, bounding the short distance between us on his long lanky legs while his horn flared to life. A rusted butcher’s knife was pulled from a belt hanging around his torso and was readied to come smashing down atop me. He’d be on me in a matter of moments. I suppose I would have been screwed if I hadn’t already grabbed for Luna’s Ruse’s firing bit as I’d turned away from Slab.

The shotgun only had two shots left, and my aim was definitely off… but thanks to his rapid approach, my aim nor ammo really mattered. Lifting the weapon up to meet the raider, I slammed my tongue down hard on the trigger. The weapon roared to life as it fired both slugs almost point blank into the unicorn as he lunged towards me. His head snapped back in a spray of red as his horn and much of his forehead flew up into the air away from his neck. The body was all but halted in mid air from the force of the first shot and nearly annihilated by the second. It simply crumpled to the ground beside me.

As the final raider threatening me dropped to the pavement, I quickly turned towards the fight between Nails and Bronze, only to see it was not going so well for my friend. The raider had inflicted a number of deep cuts all across the Marshal’s body and had even sliced one of his ears nearly completely off… the ghoul stallion hadn’t let up, however, and Nails was bleeding from a few new wounds himself. It was clear I’d need to help and I’d just begun to approach the fighting when disaster struck.

Time seemed to come to a complete halt as I watched helplessly at what happened next. The ghoul Marshal’s glowing green eyes widened in surprise as Nails’ twin serrated blades pierced through his armor as if it hadn’t existed, dark blood running from his open mouth. My own mouth widened in horror as I saw the blades bury themselves nearly to their hilts, surrounded in the unicorn raider’s magical glow. Reality began to slowly move once more as Nails trotted smugly over towards the ghoul. A grin was plastered across his face while he yanked both blades free, along with chunks of flesh.

Bronze could only stumble back a few steps from his killer, a fore hoof lifting weakly up to the holes in his chest before holding it up to his face. A confused look crossed the ghoul’s face as he stared at the blood covering his hoof, as if he didn’t understand where it’d come from. Then he simply fell back… landing upon his side on the blood stained pavement.

No…

The fighting around me faded into the background as I stood staring at the unmoving form of Bronzestar, dark blood pooling around his prone body. After everything he’d been through… to die at the hooves of a raider… on some abandoned road. My eyes drifted over towards Nails who stood over the body, a smug satisfied look on his face.

“Well, killed myself one marshal… Ah reckon it’s time ta complete th’ set and make it two fer two,” the raider said as his horn flared to life. The silver star pinned to Bronze’s chest was lifted up in his magical grip, the twisted unicorn gave it a brief glance before tossing it back down upon the pavement. He chuckled madly as he stepped towards me, casually stepping upon the emblem of the Marshalls.

No.

Nails’ knives floated up beside him, blood running along the blades while leaving a trail of droplets across the pavement as he lazily made his way to me. I felt my ears twist about and lay flat to my skull as I stared at the raider, my breathing becoming more rapid as anger swelled in my chest. Bronze deserved better… his ghouls deserved better… Ebony deserved better.

Without even thinking about it, I began walking towards him, fully intent on removing that fucking smug ass grin off his face. Intent on giving Bronze and everypony else what they deserved… but I needed a weapon… Luna’s Ruse was out of ammo. A sharp pain in my flank reminded me where I could get one and, without hesitation nor even feeling the pain it caused, I turned my head around to grab ahold of the knife still jutting out of my hip. With a slight grunt, as the blade had been buried quite deeply, I yanked it free and twisted back around to face Nails. His confident look faltered as we locked eyes and he slowed his pace somewhat.

“Well?” I asked, eyes narrowing upon the raider. “I thought you wanted to finish this?” Either from the tone of my voice or the look of pure hatred I was giving him, the raider froze in his tracks and actually took a step back. Not about to let him get away I began advancing on him, teeth tightening about the hilt of the knife. With a shake of his head, Nails sent both blades towards me. Much to his surprise, I didn’t try to dodge them. Instead I lowered my head and charged right into them with a yell.

The first blade sailed past my now lowered head and struck the back of my armored torso, sliding across the metal plating. It did catch my Stable jumpsuit though, easily slicing through along with the flesh beneath. The second blade was sent a bit lower and clipped my cheek as it flew past before hitting my chest armor. Unlike Bronze’s, mine was newer and had been more recently repaired. Still, the direct strike, along with my forward momentum, drove the blade into the plating until it found a weak spot and slid into my chest. The warning from my Pipbuck about critical damage was ignored… as were both wounds as they bleed freely, along with the others I’d earned… my entire focus was on Nails’ face, which had already been shocked and had now turned to a look of fear. Weaponless, the raider began to panic somewhat and I could feel both my weapons trying to be pulled free of my body, only to either become caught on my armor or clothing… at any rate, he was out of time.

With a scream worthy of the raiders and with the knife still clutched tightly between my jaws, I covered the last few feet to him in a single lunge. Bringing the weapon straight towards his face with a rapid thrust of my neck and head, he attempted to bring his right foreleg up to defend against my attack. His armored leg guard deflected the strike of the blade and the spikes jutting from it cut my chin and cheek in the process. I didn’t let up, and allowed the knife to skid along the armored covering until it slid off into his flesh, ignoring the scratches that his spikes left along my face. As blood struck my muzzle and Nails yelled in pain, I released the knife’s grip and slammed my own right foreleg into the raider’s head. The Pipbuck did as fine of a job as a club as it had a shield.

Nails staggered backward, his eyes a bit dazed from the double strike. However, this was a stallion who was used to hoof to hoof combat and would recover quickly. A hard slug from my left fore hoof into his face halted any chance of that and sent a couple of his yellowed teeth flying from his mouth. The raider recovered enough wits to realize he needed to fight back and he drunkenly threw a punch at my face. I surprised myself by not only blocking the attack, but by actually catching hold of his hoof with one of my own.

“Whats the matter, Nails?! I thought I was just some dumb nopony! Just another life for you to take!” I screamed into his face as I grabbed ahold of his armored shoulder halting his attempt to get away from me. “Just another trophy for you to show off!” My hoof brushed against the twisted necklace he wore, the shriveled eyes of dead ponies looking up at me. They had deserved better… my free hoof slammed into the knife sticking from his wounded leg, driving it in deeper and causing the raider to scream in pain.

Releasing his shoulder, Nails dropped to the pavement before me. Blood ran from his foreleg like a burst pipe, as well as from his nose and mouth. Yellowed eyes stared up into my face, all trace of malice was gone from his face, replaced with pure fear. For a moment I paused; my hoof was pulled back to deliver another blow to his face, to punish this beast for what he’d done to so many.

“Wh… what are ya?” he asked painfully, blood running down his chin and across the staring eyes of his victims. Most were large, but a single pair were smaller… a foal’s eyes. I lowered my hoof and took ahold of his head and brought my face closer to his. I could see my eyes staring back at me from within his own, they almost seemed to be glowing pure white with my rage.

“I am justice…” I answered in a whisper, causing his eyes to widen even as his pupils shrank to pin pricks. Grabbing ahold of his head with my other fore hoof I slammed the side of his head into the pavement… the side with the nail jutting out from it. The rusted metal spike was driven into his skull like a bullet, finishing its once halted journey into the raider’s skull and killing him instantly. “... for those who deserved better.”

As I stood over the body, breathing heavily and with blood running from my numerous wounds, I released his head and took an unsteady step back. Whatever had been keeping me going through that fight seemed to be slowly fading away, pain was beginning to flood into my head. Taking another step away from the dead raider, I could feel every scratch and bruise covering my body. Everything from the jagged dagger sticking from my back, to the bleeding stab wound in my shoulder. I could also see a dozen warnings fading in and out of my vision as my Pipbuck attempted to list all my injuries.

A groan from my right turned my attention away from my battered body and towards the shifting form of Bronzestar. I blinked in surprise as the badly wounded Marshal held one of the raider’s revolvers in his mouth, pointed straight at me. I’d barely registered this fact in my pain-clouded brain when he fired, the bullet flying inches past my face before I heard it impact something behind me. Turning around, I saw a very shocked looking Scab standing only a few feet away, a hole in his chest. The raider gurgled once before toppling over dead, the knife he’d been about to plunge into my back dropping from his slack jaw.

Turning away, I was about to thank Bronze until I noticed the downed stallion had dropped his own weapon and had laid back down upon the hard pavement. Stepping past the dead body of Nails, I made my way painfully over to Bronze. His already rotted flesh was turning a very unhealthy shade of grey. It was a miracle he had managed to fire off that last shot… hell, it was even more so that he was still alive at all, given the blood he’d lost… but then, he’d survived worse thus far. Dropping down beside him tiredly, I placed a hoof upon his blood stained chest to halt his attempts at standing once more. The ghoul stallion grunted, but finally relented and lay back upon the pavement, glowing green eyes looking up at me.

“Did ya… get ’im?” he asked, voice weak and a bit more raspy than I’d remembered. I nodded my head and he smiled with blood stained teeth up at me before coughing a bit. “Asshole got me good… Ah reckon Ah’m a sight ta see… glad Mint ain’t here ta see me, she’d likely been fussin’ over how Ah look.”

“Nonsense… you’ve likely had...” I began to say in an attempt to soothe him, however I needn’t have bothered. His eyes bore into mine with a knowing look and instead I said, “... you’re right… you look about as good as a diamond dog stripper.” That actually got a laugh out of him, though it quickly turned into a wet cough.

“A burned dog Ah’d wager…” he added after he got his coughing under control. I blinked my eyes in surprise and he once more smiled up at me. “Th’ haze that’d been cloudin’ my mind seems ta have lifted… maybe it’s th’ pain… or maybe it’s th’ fact Ah’m dying again. Whatever th’ reason Ah’m seenin’ more clearly than Ah have in a while, Ah’d reckon.” Another round of coughing halted our conversation and I painfully reached for one of the health potions in my saddlebag. He stopped me with a hoof to my shoulder. “How much of it was a lie, Shadow?” he asked softly and I turned back towards him.

“What?”

“About what happened ta our home… how much of it was true?” he asked me again. Despite the pain he was in, I could also see a look of desperation in his eyes once more. Perhaps holding out hope that most of what I’d said was a lie to ease his confused mind. Sadly, I would have to burst that hope as I refused to lie to the dying pony any longer.

“Most of it was true, Bronze… I just had to leave out certain details…” I trailed off. When he didn’t look away I sighed and placed a hoof atop his on my shoulder. “The only thing I lied about was how much time had really passed. It’s been well over a hundred and sixty years since you and the citizens of New Oaks set out for the woods.”

“Has it really been so long…?” I nodded my head as he shut his eyes and turned his head away from me to cough again, dark specks of blood flying from his muzzle. “Then Equestria lost th’ war? The Princesses are dead?”

“Nopony nor zebra won the war, Bronze… we all lost,” I answered sadly and truthfully. “The ponies who were lucky enough to survive the bombings scrapped a meager existence from the rubble of the once mighty cities or hid for years in the Stables. And… I don’t honestly know about the Princesses… some think they’re long since ash… others think they might be watching us from somewhere.”

“Ah suppose yer right… nothin’s like it was… everythin’s gone…” His eyes scanned the blackened trunks of dead trees around the road, and the dark grey overcast sky. “All gone…” he finished with a whisper, a tear running down his cheek before he turned his head back to me. His eyes drifted down, locking upon the badge pinned to my chest armor. “But not th’ Marshals… some of ’em had to have survived if yer one…” I frowned and looked to my chest and reached a hoof up to it.

“One survived the bombings that I know of, but he stopped being a marshal to raise a family. I’ve never heard of any others in the Wasteland,” I answered, starting to unpin the badge from my chest. “I’m sorry, Bronze… but I’m no real marshal. I just found this badge in his ruined settlement far from here, along with my shotgun. I took them both and thought perhaps I could be a symbol.” A shriveled hoof lifted up to stop me from removing the badge and I glanced back to Bronze.

“Not a marshal?” he asked, the green glow of his eyes beginning to fade. His strength was following suit as he struggled to hold his head up and look at me. “Yer wrong, Shadow… Ah’ve seen ya fightin’ fer ponies weaker than yerself… protectin’ ponies who can’t protect themselves. Yer a Marshal, Shadow… one of th’ last.” His hoof pushed lightly against the badge on my chest before sliding off, the glow from his eyes dimming to nearly nothing. “Never take off th’ badge, Shadow… long as ya wear it… justice still lives in this new Equestria… as does th’ Marshals… t’was an honor… fightin’... with...” he whispered before going still, his eyes dark and staring up into the sky.

“The honor was all mine, Bronze… rest in peace.” Head lowered, I reached up with my right fore hoof and gently shut his now sightless eyes. “You deserved better.” I lowered him to the pavement. Climbing to my hooves, I looked down to the silver star upon my armored chest and sighed softly before lifting my head up to take in my surroundings. It appeared that most of the fighting had come to a halt. The combined firepower of the convoy and the brute strength of the ghouls had prevailed this day. The pavement of the roadway was covered in bodies, blood, spent shell casings, and fallen weapons.

I was surprised to see a number of ferals standing nearby, their eyes unfocused yet directed at the fallen body of Bronze beside me. Despite having nearly been emotionless the entire time I’d been around them, I noticed nearly all bore expressions of sorrow. Their ears laid back, head lowered to the ground, and tails (those still with them) tucked between their legs as they stood still. Well, not all were still. One was moving, the ghoul pegasus who bore a number of wounds all across her body and looked ready to drop. However, she stubbornly made her way between the ferals, glowing eyes fixed upon the still form of Bronze.

As she neared me, the wounded pegasus slowed to a halt and lowered her head further down to gently nudge Bronze’s neck, as if expecting him to rise up. When he didn’t, she tried again… and again. After the fourth attempt she went still and cocked her head at the body before dropping down to her knees and laying her neck across his, shoulders slumping. While I stood watching, the rest of the feral herd approached and gathered around them, heads all lowered to their former leader.

“Shadow?” a voice called out quietly from somewhere behind me. I turned to see Stone, Wild, Carrion, and Spirit walking up quickly from down the roadway. Not far behind my friends, I spotted Silverluck among a number of armed ponies from the convoy. All their weapons were partially raised as if expecting an attack. All of them, my friends included, were looking uneasily towards the gathered ghouls near me. It wasn’t something any of them expected to see in ferals I suppose, mourning the loss of one of their own as they appeared to be doing. Of my friends, Carrion appeared the most ill at ease. His glowing orange eyes narrowed upon the rotting animated remains of ponies. Given his history with his fellow citizens and squad mates of Kanter City, I suppose it made sense that he would have.

“I’m glad to see you two made it back to the convoy safely,” I said towards Carrion and Spirit, my smile weak despite the fact I was very relieved to see them. I’d wondered if they’d managed to avoid the raiders while carrying the wounded survivors from Softheart’s wagon. As for the ponies from Old Oaks, they hung back from my friends and I… or rather, the ghouls nearby. Nopony had raised a weapon on them yet, but I could see the unease on their faces.

“We barely made it back,” Carrion began, eyes moving across the ghouls as they milled about with uncertainty. “These raiders hounded us the entire journey back and there were a couple of times I didn’t think we’d make it.” My ghoul friend looked to Fleethoof as she held Bronze. “Wild told us the ghouls were fighting for you… I didn’t believe it at first… how did you manage it?” he asked, a slight note of sadness in his tone. He’d been forced to kill the ghouls of his home city… I suppose he wondered if there’d been another way. The rest of my friends appeared equally as curious about it.

“Ah’d thought they were ghouls like Carrion, with their minds intact… but they look like any other feral Ah’ve seen roamin’ th’ wasteland,” Stone added. Like the ponies from Old Oaks, my friend still had his weapon drawn, but was pointing it towards the pavement. “Ain’t never seen so many well behaved feral ghouls before… can’t honestly remember seein’ one.”

Silverluck had pushed her way to the head of the group of armed ponies and was looking curiously towards the ghouls. Thankfully, she appeared to be attempting to calm her ponies. A number of weapons were relaxed, though their owners kept a close eye on the undead herd.

I started to open my mouth to answer their questions when I spotted a glint of metal coming from the ground between Stone and myself. Stepping away from Fleethoof and the others, I moved closer before reaching down with my right fore hoof to pick up the small round metal object. Lifting it up to my face, I looked over the slightly dented star and its still legible engraving.

“They weren’t just another herd of feral ghouls, Stone. They were ponies just like us. They just forgot that for a while is all,” I answered as I tucked the star into a pouch on my chest and looked to Carrion. “As for how I did it… I can’t take any of the credit for this one, it was all Marshal Bronzestar’s doing. Despite the changes, he managed to hold them all together somehow and keep their spirits up long enough to be rescued.” I waved a hoof over to the downed pony as Fleethoof began to rise and step away from the body.

“But now that their leader is dead… are they going to turn on us?” somepony from the convoy asked. I didn’t see who questioned that as they all appeared slightly scared of the herd of ferals. Old Oaks hadn’t gotten many ghoul visitors if I’d recalled what Silver had told me, nor had they any such citizens. They’d accepted Carrion well enough, but he was one pony. This many was more intimidating, especially to ponies who’d no doubt heard stories from members of the former trading convoys coming through their town.

“No… they’re not going to turn on anypony, so long as we treat them well. Like anypony else they dislike having weapons pointed at them, and will attack if somepony shoots them,” I quickly explained, waiting to avoid further bloodshed and loss of life among the ferals. Silver was about to ask another question when something to my right caught her attention.

Turning my head in that direction, I found myself once more looking at the same feral ghoul I’d come face to face with back at their cave. The stallion’s business tie was more torn than I remembered and he bore a number of fresh scars all across his body… and was carrying my hat in his mouth. The feral ghoul slowed to a halt and looked between the group of armed ponies and myself before dropping the hat down on the highway beside my hooves. He nosed the old cowpony hat over to me before sitting down. Looking back up to the ghoul, I smiled and nodded my head in thanks before reaching over to pick it up and replace it atop my head.

“All they need is for somepony to show them… a little bit of kindness,” Spirit whispered. She’d not said anything earlier until now, looking from the ghouls to me. The buffalo’s eyes softened a bit and she smiled towards me, nodding her horned head once in my direction. She seemed about to simply remain standing where she was before she noticed the knife wounds all across my body. Likely due to the fact that the knives themselves were still stuck in my body. That was a rather uncomfortable feeling now that I noticed it...

“You are in need of medical attention, Shadow,” my large brown coated friend stated the obvious and was already moving towards me. She already was opening her medical saddlebags, reaching for bandages and clean cloths with her mouth. At the mention of wounds, my other friends blinked and looked more closely to me. I couldn’t fault them for not noticing before… after all, they’d been focused on the ferals that might still poss a threat.

“Yer suppose ta dodge th’ knives thrown at ya, Shadow. Ya do know that, right?” Stone asked upon seeing the blades jutting out of my body. He relaxed his grip on his rifle and arched a brow at me as if awaiting an answer. When I simply snorted my response, he smirked a bit and moved to help Spirit by offering a second set of hooves to hold things. Spirit, meanwhile, had withdrawn a number of bottles from her saddlebags by then and sat them upon the pavement beside me. Two of the bottles she was opening first were a soft orange color. I recognized them as a sort of numbing potion. She’d bought the recipe for them from a trader who was visiting San Ponsisco a week ago.

“Well… what do we do with ’em now?” Wild asked me as she trotted up behind her coltfriend.

I turned away from Spirit just as she began pouring the contents of one of her potions onto the knife wound upon my neck and back. Almost at once the feeling of something metal sticking into my flesh was replaced with one of… well nothing. I was quite thankful for that, as the adrenaline from the fight had long since worn off. Only my desire not to scare the ferals had kept me from screaming. That and the strap that Luna’s Ruse hung from was now wrapped around my fore hooves. Instead of watching what was no doubt to come, I looked over to the orange winged mare. She scanned the torn apart bodies of the raiders laying near us, and then looked over to the dead ghouls that had killed them.

“What we do for anypony in need... we help them,” I said simply and looked to see where Fleethoof had gotten to. The winged ghoul had moved a bit away from us, perhaps sensing the unease in Silver’s ponies. My answer seemed enough for Wild, at least for the moment.

“How exactly do you plan on helping them and, for that matter, where did you even find them?” The answer wasn’t enough it seemed for Silver. She stepped away from her group to walk closer to my friends and I. Well, that was a question I wasn’t looking forward to fully explaining the answer to. The ferals were responsible for the supplies not reaching Old Oaks… which resulted in ponies getting killed, both on the road and in the town. After everything that had happened, I still wasn’t sure if I should even tell anypony. I mean, it really wasn’t the ghouls’ fault, was it? Once again today, I decided to tell just half truths until I could figure out what to do.

“They’ve been hiding in the forest ever since the bombings. They’d been trying to escape New Oaks and reach someplace safe when they’d cut through the forest,” I began, making sure to keep my voice low enough so none of the ghouls would hear. I wasn’t sure if Fleet knew what she or the others were or if, like Bronze and Mint, she had mentally blocked the changes from her mind. At the thought of Mint, I swore to myself and worried if learning her husband had been killed would finish breaking the poor mare’s mind. With a slight slump to my shoulders, I continued to explain to my friends and Silver what had happened in the forest, leaving out the ambush on caravans traveling along the highway.

“So… you found Softheart with these ghouls… and she’s alright? She’s with this ghoul doctor?” Silver asked once I’d finished telling them most of what I’d learned and what had happened since leaving the highway. After nodding to her question, she asked another, “And you're sure she’s alright?”

“How do we know they didn’t kill her?” one of Silver’s ponies asked from the back. The question sparked the crowd of armed ponies to mutter and eye the ghouls, who were mostly ignoring us as they gathered around Fleet.

“She’s fine, Mint Julep wouldn’t let anything happen to her. You have my word.” I could see fear of the ghouls was going to be a very real problem for the ponies of Old Oaks. I can’t say I was surprised, since I’d expected as much from them. I also couldn’t say I blamed them. However, such thoughts fled my own mind when I felt something being pulled from my body… or rather the weight of it leave my back. I twisted my head around to see Spirit holding one of Nail’s blades in her mouth by the grip, the jagged blade dripping with blood. My blood...

My stomach decided now was as good a time as any to point out just how freaking unsettling that was and began to twist this way and that. Thankfully, I’d long since thrown up any breakfast I had left inside it due to the radiation poisoning I’d taken the trip in and out of the forest. Taking a quick breath, I managed to avoid dry heaving in front of everypony… but only just. Looking back up to the ponies around me, I noticed Wild looked a bit green about the cheeks as she stared at Spirit beside me. Even Silver shifted her eyes to something else. Okay… I was glad I only had to sorta feel this… and hooray for unsettlingly derailing the current conversation until I could figure out what to do.

“How are your ponies?” I asked Silver. It was both to further forestall the conversation we’d been having and to avoid thinking of why Spirit had retrieved a needle and thread from her bag after dropping the knife on the ground. Oh, I wasn’t stupid, I just didn’t want to think about… fuck, I was thinking about it…

“We lost another seven to the attack, a number of others are wounded pretty badly. Jack was injured in the last round of gunfire, Fiona thinks he may lose his leg,” the mare began, looking away from me and back to the wagons, her ears flat.

“I believe she is right,” Spirit said between her stitching. “Our medical supplies are quite low and without more potions, I am afraid we will lose many more ponies to their wounds tonight.”

Damnit… Jack was a good pony, and in a lot of ways he reminded me of Stone… if he was in such bad shape I imagined his granddaughter would be by his side. That likely explained where Balefire was. Thankfully, we’d brought enough supplies with us from the caves to likely help him and the other wounded recover, but there was something else I was worried about. I looked down the highway to the parked wagons and the remaining ponies milling about them. The ruined wagon still sat across the narrow path, smoke rising steadily into the sky.

“How are the wagons?” I knew we’d lost one for sure, but given the raiders’ firepower we might have lost more. That would most likely be our most pressing problem at the moment.

“One’s a complete wreck thanks to the rocket that began the attack, two others are heavily damaged… we think we can get one of them repaired, but the other one may have to be left behind. I’ve already told them to start tossing personal effects over the side of the road to allow more ponies to ride the remaining wagons,” Silver answered, beginning to sound more and more depressed as she went on. “Of course it seems to be a moot point, seeing as how we don’t have enough healthy ponies to pull them all anyway.”

“The raiders really fucked us over,” Wild spoke up. Her ears pinned to the back of her skull as she narrowed her eyes on the body of a raider nearby, kicking it in the head with a forehoof. “For the first few minutes they actually seemed to be aiming to disable our wagons rather than just to kill. As Silver said, their first shot was to the wagon in the front which blocked the narrow strip we needed to cross. Thankfully they reverted to their old selves once we became bogged down on this side of the passage and just started firing randomly into us.”

“If Ah hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, Ah wouldn’t have believed it,” Stone said from beside me as he helped Spirit with mending my wounds. The stallion was now busy with holding a blood stained cloth and pan.

“To be honest, even after what they did to our walls back in Old Oaks, I still can’t believe it,” Silver added, ears folded back as she looked from us to her smoking ruined wagon. “I’d almost believe we’d been attacked by a band of mercenaries rather than crazed psychopaths.”

“Surely smart raiders aren’t all that rare?” I asked my grey friend as Spirit finished her sewing. “I mean, they have some sort of crude leadership even in those roaming bands of their’s.”

“It ain’t uncommon for a raider ta be smarter than others. But they normally ain’t all in one group.” Hmm, I suppose that did make sense now that I thought about it. “Smart raiders like ta be leadin’ the dumber ones like ya said. They aren’t known for bein’ able to share leadership. In all my days travelin’ th’ wasteland, Ah ain’t ever seen so many raiders as organized as Ah’ve seen th’ past couple days,” he answered as Spirit tossed the needle she’d been using into the pan he held.

Having finished with one wound, Spirit turned her attention on the second blade sticking out of my body. She turned my head a bit to one side and lifted my right foreleg to better get at it and set to work. Thankfully the numbing potion she’d used still seemed to be working. The others continued to speak about the raiders’ unusual activity. Given what Three Horns had been saying for the past couple weeks, it was quite widespread across the wasteland.

With little new to add to the conversation, I instead mulled over the issues of the wagons. We couldn’t stay here for long seeing how we’d already been attacked twice while on the road. It was worrying that Old Oaks had suddenly gained so much attention that we’d been the focus of so many raiders.

Shifting my eyes back towards my friends, I noticed Carrion had moved away from everypony else and was standing over the corpses of two of the raiders I’d killed. While my ghoul friend wasn’t always easy to read, thanks largely in part to the fact some of his face rotting away, I could still tell something was bothering him. Nopony else had noticed him missing just yet as they started talking about other attacks across the wasteland. As I watched him, he rolled one of the bodies over and began examining it closely. His hoof reached out to run over the necklace of eyeballs the raider still wore. After a moment, he turned the second body over and studied it.

With a slight twinge to my stomach, I felt some weight pull from my chest as Spirit no doubt removed the second blade. As she retrieved the needle and thread from Stone, I attempted to see what had caught Carrion’s attention on the raiders. From where I sat, I couldn’t make out a lot of detail about them. They had similar coat and mane coloring, as well as being both earth ponies… come to think of it, now that I really looked, their armor was very similar. Still, it’s not like raiders were very original in their dress. Spiked armored shoulder pads, body parts hanging from their belts and weapons, cutie marks depicting suffering, the whole nine yards. A quick look revealed that these two had the typical mark on their flanks, a pony being stabbed in the face. Wait…

“They both have the same cutie mark…” I whispered. It caused Spirit to halt her sewing and glance up at me, confused as to what I’d said. Beside me, Stone halted his conversation with Wild to look over at me himself as well, before following my gaze to Carrion and the raiders. From the way his ears perked up, I could tell he’d spotted the same thing as me.

“Twins?” he asked, to which I shrugged my shoulders. It seemed as good an answer as any… what were the chances though? Still, even twins didn’t get the same cutie mark so far as I knew… and I was one. Ebony and I looked alike, but we each had earned our cutie marks separately. Maybe it had to do with them being raiders though. I guess there was only so many murder cutie marks out there before they had to begin copying themselves.

“Maybe… but what's more worrying to me is the fact I’ve seen these before.” Carrion’s comment silenced the others and the ghoul stallion found all eyes turned towards him. He pointed a hoof to the first one and then the other raider’s unsettling taste in jewelry, going so far as to pick one up so we could better see it. Silver wrinkled her nose at the sight of half rotted and shriveled eyes and I think one of the ponies from the crowd actually turned away to throw up.

“Damned raiders and their trophies…” Stone muttered, ears laid back as he looked from the twins to the necklace before scanning the other raider bodies around us. “Most bands of raiders have somethin’ that denotes its members… either in th’ way of body paint, piercings or trophies. Ain’t nothin’ new to that,” he said, perhaps more for my benefit than anyone else's. After all, even a month on the surface wasn’t enough time to learn everything.

“You’re right, Stone… the thing that worries me is that the last time I’d seen this particular mark on a raider was in the sewers of Kanter City, whenever they’d get ballsy enough to try and come hunt me down.” As he spoke, he let the necklace fall from his hoof. “And I only began noticing them after somepony began uniting the different factions within the city itself.”

Looking back to the necklace of eyes, I began to figure out just what they were suppose to represent. If one wanted to show loyalty to a pony with a name like Mad Eyes, then eyeballs would be a good way to do that. Mad Eyes… I’d rather hoped I’d not have to think of that particular pony again. She’d been the one who’d apparently ordered the attack on my Stable, if what I’d heard was correct about her leading the raiders of Kanter City. However, something else he’d said struck me suddenly. “Wait… why are they way the hell out here?” I asked.

“A good question… up until today I haven’t seen them outside the city. At least not beyond Sticks or the train we’d fought them on,” Carrion answered. It wasn’t like Old Oaks was just down the road from Kanter City… far from it… and it got me to wondering if perhaps the stories we’d been hearing on the radio were due to raiders bearing the same symbol.

“Perhaps its just a group of raiders that split from those in Kanter City,” Wild suggested, though it didn’t sound as if she believed it herself. It didn’t seem very likely, given the number of raiders we’d fought since arriving in Old Oaks.

“Ah don’t reckon they are… unless a whole lot of ’em decided ta all move out at once,” Stone pointed out. “But if they’re from Kanter City, why are they way th’ hell up here? There’s towns closer ta that city than Old Oaks.”

“As interesting as this all is… this isn’t helping us…” Silver pointed out, and I had to agree. “I don’t doubt this means more trouble for us, but it’s going to be dark very soon and I’d rather not be stuck sitting here.”

“Yer right o’ course, Silver. Just we’ve ran inta this particular group before.” As he spoke, Stone looked over to me, perhaps worried this was bringing up some bad memories for me. It was… but I wasn’t going to let it bother me. As worrying as the thought that more raiders were flocking to the banner of Mad Eyes, it wasn’t our primary concern at the moment. “We need ta collect th’ rest of yer ghoul friends from th’ forest and figure out how ta get these wagons movin’ before we’re attacked again.”

“I have an idea on how we can do that, Stone… but I have to ask them if they’re willing to help first,” I said, looking over to Fleethoof. The winged ghoul mare hadn’t done much since stepping away from Bronze’s body, simply sitting with the other ghouls while silently listening. However, when she’d noticed somepony looking towards her, she lifted her head and arched a brow towards me. Behind her, the ferals had begun to scatter out a bit along the highway, wandering around the bodies of the raiders.

“And it’s going to require the ponies from Old Oaks to trust those from New Oaks,” I added while Spirit finished sewing the knife wound in my chest. The buffalo rose back up and dropped the needle into the pan as everypony else looked over to me.

“Ya can’t be serious,” one of the ponies from the crowd accused, causing me to look away from the nervous Fleet and to the red coated mare who’d spoke up. She wrinkled her nose at the ghoul pegasus, who shrunk back at the look she was getting. The ferals around Fleet merely blinked their glowing eyes at us in confusion as they found themselves the center of attention all of a sudden. Not surprisingly, they began to gather around Fleet. With Bronze dead, it seemed she’d been nominated the new lead pony by the herd.

“I am serious.” My tone lowered as the mare looked unhappily upon Fleet before catching my own glare and looking away. The last thing we needed was for the ghouls to feel threatened by somepony being stupid… I suppose Spirit had been right, ponies were quick to judge strangers.

“A feral ghoul is a might bit stronger than a normal pony for some reason,” Stone muttered mostly to himself before he began looking over the surviving herd of ferals. There were only eight left who could stand, though a few wounded sat about the highway. “Ah’d reckon they’d be able ta pull th’ wagons non stop ta Janesville, some of ’em at any rate.”

“Silver… ya can’t seriously be thinkin’ bout lettin’ him do this, are ya?” the same mare asked. I noticed a few more from the crowd looking less than pleased by the thought. “They’re mindless beasts that’ll turn on us in a second.”

“I suppose it depends...” Silver answered, looking over the ferals, Fleet, and then myself. “On whether they’d be willing to help us.” The silver coated mare offered me a slight smile before turning to address her ponies. “The Marshal’s done us right so far, and if he trusts them, then that’s good enough for me. Besides, they’ve already saved one of our foals from dying in this hellish forest… and they did just charge in to save us all from these raiders.” I was pleased to see more than a few shameful looking ponies among the crowd after that.

Fleethoof, for her part, still seemed confused about what was going on. More of the ferals surrounded her and eyed the other herd of ponies uneasily. Several had their ears back, but thankfully none seemed ready to attack. I was surprised by Silver’s next move. With her short speech finished, the leader of Old Oaks stood up and trotted away from us, slowly over towards Fleet. The pegasus stood herself, looking ready to dart away should Silver attack her… I couldn’t blame her. After all, the crowd had been talking about her as if she hadn’t been there. Silver opened her mouth to speak, but paused and cocked her head a bit before looking back to me.

“Her name is Fleethoof,” I said after realizing what Silver wanted. Looking over to the pegasus, I offered the nervous ghoul a friendly smile and added, “No relation to the Wonderbolt.” At this, she returned my smile and seemed a bit calmer.

“Fleethoof… I know we’ve just met, and your ponies have suffered as much as mine,” Silver began, waving a hoof over the fallen forms of the ghouls and then back to the smoking ruin of a wagon and the frightened faces of the young and old hiding behind the remaining wagons. “You’ve already proven yourself a kind pony, willing to come to the aid of complete strangers. I really do hate to ask more from you, but... I believe if we combined our resources we can reach Janesville. And safety for both our groups,” she finished, offering the ghoul pegasus a hoof.

For a moment, Fleet looked at the offered hoof and then back up to the mare it belonged to. Her glowing green eyes shifted from Silver to the group of ponies behind her and finally to the wagons. Beyond the slight twitching of her wings, she hadn’t moved from her spot. The ponies gathered nearby held their breath, some no doubt thinking Silver was about to be mauled. Their silence was shattered however by a couple gasps as Fleet reached a hoof up and took Silver’s, shaking it gently as she looked back into the silver mare’s face and smiled. The gathered ponies from Old Oaks slowly began to relax, a few even starting to smile a bit at the prospect of no longer being stuck here.

It was a good feeling to see these two groups slowly coming together after all they’d been through. For the moment, things were getting better and it seemed a very real possibility we would get through this without losing anypony else. Kindness, it seemed, had won the day. Oh, I knew well there’d be problems further down the road, both the metaphorical and physical ones. I had no way of knowing how the ponies of Janesville would respond to feral ghouls once we reached the town, or even if the ponies of Old Oaks would fully get over their fear of them.

The single thing that worried me the most right now, however, was the heavy weight of the recovered badge in my chest pouch and the knowledge I had some very bad news to deliver with it. My good mood over our victory faded completely as I remembered the worried look that Mint had given towards Bronze. After that, my attention drifted away completely from the ponies around me and I looked back out towards the forest. I would have to go find the rest of the ghouls and Mint before it started getting dark… I had to tell her about Bronze.

“Spirit, I need to head back out into the forest, can you wait until I return to finish treating my wounds?” I asked, glancing over to the buffalo in question. She halted her treatment of the stab wound upon my flank to look up at me. Before she’d even had a chance to speak a single word, I could tell she did not like the idea of me leaving so soon with so many untreated wounds. Neither did I, but it couldn’t be helped. The more time I wasted sitting here looking after myself, the longer it would take me to reach Mint and the others.

“Your wounds are quite deep and many are covered in dirt that run the risk of infecting them. I should finish treating them at the very least before you run off again,” she answered before looking me directly in the face, or rather at the wound across my right eye. She frowned and tilted her horned head slightly to one side. Lifting a fore hoof up in front of my face, she slowly moved it from side to side. “Of more concern to me is the wound across your face. Your right eye does not seem to focus on things as it should, nor does it track on its own. I fear whatever blow you suffered has severally damaged it.”

“I’ve been having trouble seeing things on my right side…” I admitted. “My aim’s been off since I got hit in the face as well… I did take a health potion not long after the attack,” I added, ears folding back a bit. I’d known something was wrong with me and had a sneaking suspicion it’d been the slash to the right side of my face. A large black tipped hoof lifted up from the pavement once more and gently touched the side of my face. Spirit turned it to one side so she might have a better look at my eye. As she did, I attempted to remain as still as I could and stare straight ahead. However, it was hard given that I now noticed just how much loss of vision I had. I couldn’t see Spirit from the corner of my right eye at all...

“The wound has scarred more heavily than it should after taking a health potion,” she began, speaking softly as she held my face still. “I believe the radiation from the forest has kept the healing magic of the potion from working completely and has resulted in the scar across your brow and check. It likely also kept it from fully healing the eye, which was most assuredly damaged by the weapon that struck you.” Releasing my cheek, I turned back to look directly at my buffalo friend as she withdrew another health potion from her bag and offered it to me. When I didn’t immediately take the potion from her, she smiled a bit and explained. “Since I believe you are about to tell me that since there is little else for your eye I can do, you may as well go. That you will be fine until you return to finish letting me treat you. However, you should at least use this to heal some of your smaller wounds and those I’ve sew shut.”

Chuckling a bit, I nodded my head once before taking the potion she held out. I yanked the cork out and nodded my head towards the wounded ghouls across from us. Before drinking the red liquid, I asked, “Is there anything you can do for them?” The wounded ferals hadn’t moved much from where they’d fallen, though most of the healthy had settled down beside them now that Fleet seemed safe enough.

“I do not believe there is much I can do for them. Ghouls do not heal normally as a pony does. Radiation has a way of healing them, however, and I believe they will recover fully given enough exposure to it which should not be a problem,” she answered, waving a hoof to the sides of the highway and the ash-turned-goop. “I will, however, insure that their bones are properly set to keep them from healing back wrong,” she added while beginning to put away the medical supplies she had withdrawn. Upon noticing his services were no longer needed, Stone turned his attention back on us and noticed my less than fully healed self.

“Let me guess, he’s gotta go run off an’ be a hero again?” my friend asked, a smirk upon his muzzle as Spirit nodded her head once in answer to his question. The stallion rolled his eyes and stepped around the buffalo to stand in front of me. He tilted the brim of his cowpony hat back as he asked, “And just where th’ hell do ya think yer gettin’ off to so soon?”

“We left the badly wounded and foals back in the forest atop a hill to await the outcome of the fight,” I began. At the mention of foals, both my friends appeared to be confused. After all, they’d only known of a single foal I’d gone looking for. Spirit put the pieces together first and her face shifted to a look of great sorrow for those who’d never fully grow up, at least in body. Stone caught on a moment later and swore softly to himself about damned radiation.

“There is more to it than simply going back for the others though,” Wild said, stepping around her colt friend. Her eyes searched my face as I began hurriedly reloading my shotgun. “Otherwise you’d just send that Fleethoof out to collect them. So, why do you personally have to go do this?” The orange mare smiled a bit, head tilting as she added, “You're going to have to work on being harder to read, Shadow.”

“I normally don’t have any problems when dealing with strangers,” I said in my defence before answering her, “As for sending Fleet, I don’t believe that’s a good idea right now. She’s needed here to keep the ferals calm. The others haven’t all exactly warmed up to them yet and if they feel threatened, I’m afraid what will happen.” They’d already been through so much… to die because they didn’t understand why the other ponies were looking at them or pointing weapons… well, I wasn’t about to let that happen to them. “You're right though, there is a reason I need to go back myself.”

“Ya know Shadow… ya don’t need ta shoulder everythin’ yerself all th’ time.”

“I know, Stone… but this is something I just really have to do… I owe them that much,” I answered, glancing over towards the body of Bronze and sighing. My friends followed my gaze and shared a look among themselves.

“Who?” Stone asked as I slid the last few slugs into Luna’s Ruse’s drum magazine.

“His wife and filly,” I answered and shut my saddlebag. I recalled how worried Bronze had been about leaving their cave. He’d been so worried about losing anymore of his ponies to the ‘zebras’ or to the forest. He’d fought so hard to save them from the falling bombs that he hadn’t wanted to risk it. In the end though, he had… to help me save the lives of the ponies of Old Oaks. “He could have stayed where he was, kept his ponies alive… or as alive as they could be. But he didn’t and he died. I owe him to tell his wife and filly what had happened.” I was surprised when Wild reached out and took ahold of my shoulder, the unwounded one thankfully.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of us to come with you, Shadow… I know how difficult it is to tell somepony their loved ones aren’t coming back.” At times, I almost forgot she’d been in the Enclave army and had led other pegasi into battle… I suppose she’d had to do this more than a couple times.

“No, I don’t want to risk upsetting them… but thank you, Wild,” I answered, offering my winged friend a smile. She nodded her head and released my shoulder, stepping closer to Stone.

“Alright… Ah know how stubborn ya can get when ya’ve made up yer mind on somethin’,” Stone said, holding up his fore hooves in surrender before asking, “Is there anythin’ ya need us ta do while yer gone though?”

I looked from my friends to the highway around us and the dead bodies littering it. Some of the ponies from Old Oaks were beginning to loot the dead raiders for ammo and spare weapons, while the fallen ghouls sat untouched. “Yeah… bury the ghouls… they deserve to be laid to rest for all they did today,” I answered, snapping the drum shut and standing up.

“Was gonna do that anyway. Nopony should be left ta rot,” he said, laying a hoof of his own on my shoulder. “Just hurry yerself back here,” he added, a note of concern in his voice.

“I shouldn’t be long. Hold down the fort for me, Stone,” I responded as he lowered his hoof. With a nod to my friends, I turned and began making my way across the roadway, stepping carefully over the bodies. Once I reached the edge of the pavement, I climbed down a low ditch we’d jumped across and began my climb up the hill. It would be slow going, but I’d make it.

The dim lighting of a portable lantern alerted me that I was growing closer to where the remaining ghouls waited for news of the battle. It had taken me only twenty minutes to traverse this same path earlier, but now it seemed to take me twice as long. My progress had been slowed by the thick sludge that still covered the ground as well as my own pace. Despite the lack of rain clouds looming overhead, or the oppressive feeling of racing the clock to reach the highway, the Dead Forest was still very much a grim and dark place to be within. I suppose the reason why I was making the trip back myself could also have had something to do with that fact.

Others had offered to do so in my place, some citing my injuries while others thought I might be better served staying near should the raiders attack again. All perfectly good reasons to remain with the convoy. I’d declined them all though. I could walk well enough, and I doubted we’d be attacked again so soon by raiders. I also wasn’t about to push this off on another. Not when I felt it was my duty to see it through. Not after I’d made a promise.

The hill I climbed was largely devoid of trees with only the odd twisted truck rising up from the muddy ground. Instead, it was loosely covered by large stones and further up by larger boulders. As I neared the top, I’d already come across one of the ghouls Bronze had ordered to stay behind. The feral had been watching from atop a rock for any sign of movement. At first he had approached me with ears laid back and teeth bared, but after a moment he relaxed his stance and stood fully upright, even seeming to smile towards me. Did he remember me? It was hard to say what went on in the mind of a feral ghoul, but it was clear he had some idea that I wasn’t here to hurt anypony.

He followed me now, trotting along just a few steps behind me looking rather pleased to have found me. I smiled a bit towards the undead stallion, before looking ahead as we walked around a rock and I spotted the ferals before me. Most of the ghouls were laying around the flickering lantern somepony had sat atop a rock. The ferals all lifted their heads and turned towards me and my escort, a number of smaller heads popped up from beside the larger bodies. It was here among the resting ferals I found the pony I’d come looking for.

Hearing me and my escort approaching, Mint Julep looked up from the feral she was bandaging and offered me a warm smile. “Good evenin’, Marshal, Ah was startin’ ta get a might worried since ya’ll been gone a while. Ah take it th’ fight went well?” she asked, her horn glowing softly as a piece of the white gauze floated about the wounded limb of her patient. Despite her calm demeanor, I could here a note of worry in her voice.

For the moment, I couldn’t bring myself to speak to the mare and instead glanced to the side of her. Despite my words to the contrary, I truly had wanted to put this off for as long as I could. I did not want to see Mint break down, and perhaps lose what was left of her mind to the wasteland’s horrors. As I began turning my head back towards Mint, I spotted two others laying beside her. Star and Softheart, who both had been reading a book near the lantern, but had stopped when I arrived. Now the ghoul foal was watching me intently.

Instead of answering her, I worked my way towards Mint and the wounded ghoul, glancing to the ferals as I passed them. I could tell by the tilt of their heads and the way their ears perked up towards me that they knew something was wrong. Even the foals scooted a bit closer to their parents or guardians.

Like the ferals, Star tilted her head slightly to one side as her eyes searched my face. She knew something was wrong. Worry began working its way into her expression as her green glowing eyes shifted from my face to looking behind me for somepony. Upon seeing only the feral stallion who’d been following me, panic filled her eyes and she sucked in a lung full of air. Beside her, Softheart blinked and looked from me to her new friend, speaking softly to the ghoul foal as I came to a halt before Star’s mother.

“Shadow…” The smile Mint had worn a moment before was beginning to fade as she looked up at me. The light around her horn flickered a bit as she began losing her concentration on her magic. “Where’s Bronze?” The same panic I’d seen in Star’s eyes entered her mother’s as she looked back the way I’d come, ears laying back. “Shadow… where’s my husband?”

“I’m sorry, Mint…” I began, my own ears flicking back as I reached down to the pouch on my chest armor and pulled the silver badge out with my teeth. Lowering my neck, I placed Bronze’s marshal star before Mint’s hoof which shakingly reached out to take it as I lifted my head. “He died, saving the lives of the convoy, his ponies, and myself.” The roll of bandages dropped to the muddy ground between us and unrolled itself.

“No… he… he can’t be…” the mare whispered looking to the badge in her hoof. Soft glowing tears formed at the corners of her eyes before she shut them tightly. Pressing the silver star to her chest, the mare began to shake. The fur beneath her eyes glowed gently as tears ran down her cheeks.

Star moved into my field of view, head hung low and tail dragging across the muddy ground as she approached her mother. The ghoul filly slipped between her mother’s fore legs and pressed herself against her belly.

Mint lowered her head to press her muzzle against her daughter’s body, eyes remaining shut as she cried. The filly hugged her mother's neck with her forelegs, speaking for the first time since I’d met her.

“He died a hero, mom… he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

“Goooood morning, wasteland!! It’s seven a.m. on a Tuesday and this is ol’ Three Horns here being entirely too chipper for this early in th’ morning! If you're hearing this, then it means you’ve likely made it through yet another hellish night of wandering if you were even going to wake up. So, with that in mind, what’a ya say we get to some news?”

Yawning, Longshot trotted along the nearly empty streets of Janesville as he made his way to his post, atop the watch tower facing east out into the forest. Glancing tiredly to the clock atop City Hall, the stallion thought it was much too early to be awake… four in the morning was an ungodly time for anypony to be out of bed. Reaching the wall, he began climbing the steps up to his post and found that the pony he was supposed to relieve hadn’t left just yet. Smirking to himself, he wondered if perhaps she wasn’t after a bit of personal relief again and sauntered over to her.

For her part, Summer didn’t acknowledge the arrival of her relief and sometime bedding partner. Instead, she continued to stare out into the wasteland. The unicorn’s ears were perked upright as whatever she was looking at held her full attention. It wasn’t until she felt another pony standing right beside her that she noticed she had company. She jerked her head around to see Long grinning stupidly at her.

The stallion’s brief thoughts of sex were, to his mind, sadly dashed when instead of pushing him down and doing what she liked with him she instead pointed a hoof out towards the highway and asked, “Long, ya’lls got better eyes than me, what do ya make of that out yonder?”

“... th’ prez is tellin’ everypony not to worry, that th’ newly minted Second Core is up to th’ task of pushin’ this latest Super Mutty offensive back. I know we’re all hopin’ they’re up to th’ task, I’d hate ta think all them taxpayers caps went to trainin’ our boys in green how to play shuffleboard instead of fighting.

Well, with all th’ bad stuff and slightly less bad stuff sorted out, how bout some good news for a change?

What’s that? Ol’ Three Horns actually has some good news from the wasteland? Well, as much as the Wasteland likes ta think it’s running a tight ship with a steady stream of shit, it does slip up now and then. Specially when this pony’s involved…”

Janesville was in a slight, understandable panic. The morning guards up on the eastern wall had reported sighting a line of wagons slowly approaching along the old highway. Early estimates put the size of the group at six wagons and well over a hundred ponies. Rarely had any convoy that had approached the city walls ever been so large. In fact of the few times they had seen anywhere near such a large number of ponies coming towards their town, it was soon followed by a raider attack.

As a result, the alarm had been sounded and ponies began to panic. Bells rung out from the school house and city hall, as ponies rushed this way and that through the streets attempting to reach either their homes or their posts. Ponies dressed in green army uniforms rushed towards the eastern gate alongside the normal black armored forms of the town’s guards. The ponies of Janesville wouldn’t be caught unaware a second time.

“Just this mornin’ ol’ Three Horns got a report out of Janesville… what? Where’s that ya ask? Well it’s up north and out east a ways from San Ponsisco… ya never heard of it? Well, trust me, it’s there… now if I can finish tellin’ the story? Alright? Good. Now then, as I was sayin’, there was a report from Janesville this morning about a large band of ponies approaching their walls.

Now as ya might expect, the sudden appearance of a large group of strangers outside your walls would cause a bit of concern for anypony. And th’ ponies of Janesvillie weren’t any different. They prepared a nice warm welcome for what they thought was just another friendly raider health inspection on the number of limbs the locals had. What they saw as the strangers got closer was not what they had expected at all…”

Standing beside his fellow guards and the small contingent of Confederate soldiers, Longshot watched uneasily as the approaching convoy neared the gates. Fourty minutes ago through a cracked pair of binoculars kept atop the tower, he had managed to get a better look over the group that had caused quite a stir in the populace. The closer view of the ponies revealed something of a surprise to him, and to the mayor.

The approaching convoy of wagons and ponies seemed to lack any tell tale sign of being raiders. There was no spiked armor and no bloody trophies hanging from their vehicles and bodies. They were quite heavily armed however, and while in these troubling times it wasn’t uncommon, it was worrying. Twenty minutes after spotting the ground wagons, they’d spied the sky chariot patrolling above. What had further surprised the ponies of Janesville though was the fact there appeared to be foals among the wagons. What confused the hell out of them completely was the fact the wagons appeared to be being pulled by ghouls.

The mayor and local officer of the Confederate contingent had quickly met to discuss what to do, the inclusion of foals changing things entirely. After a tense five minutes of hurried talks, since time was a factor, the pair had decided to meet the approaching strangers at the gates to see what they wanted. However, everypony was to remain alert. It wouldn’t have been the first time a group like raiders or slavers used foals to try and gain entrance to a town.

So, it was outside the walls of Janesville with his back to the now closed gate that Longshot found himself standing completely exposed on the highway. The stallion shifted a bit on his hooves as he watched the ragged line of ponies and ghouls closing the distance between them. The sky chariot had hung back and was circling the highway slowly from where the group had appeared. It was a smart move, as the skies above Janesville was a no fly zone for anything unknown. The griffon bandit attacks were to thank for that. As the wagons came within speaking distance of the wall, the officer held up her hoof and stepped forward.

“That’s far enough! You at th’ front, step forward to identify yerself and state yer business!” She lowered her hoof and pointed it to the stallion at the front of the line. He glanced back to the others and held up a hoof for them to wait, clearly he was the leader. Stepping away from the others, he began walking slowly towards the officer, keeping his hooves and mouth away from his weapons. As he did, the ponies of Janesville got a better look at one of the strangers.

At first glance he appeared a fairly typical earth pony, black coat and white mane dressed in dirt stained armor and saddlebags. Nothing special. Looking a bit closer, however, the ponies standing guard over the gate began to notice he was far from typical. His black combat armor was indeed covered in dirt, but it was also worn and chipped from constant use and he wore a Pipbuck upon his right foreleg. This pre war tech marked the stranger as a former Stable Dweller or maybe a rich enough pony to afford one. Those among them with combat experience made note of the way he carried his weapons, all within easy reach of his mouth and all well cared for. However, the one item that got the most responses out of the gathered ponies was the silver star pinned to the stranger’s chest. This earned a few quick murmurings from the gathered ponies until the officer in charge once more held up her hoof to halt the stranger before he came any closer.

“My name is Shadow, I’m an Equestrian Marshall and these ponies behind me are under my protection. They are the sole survivors from Old and New Oaks. As for our business, we are here seeking shelter from the wasteland within the walls of your town and, if possible, a new home for these refugees.”

“That’s right, everypony… ya heard ol’ Three Horns correct. An honest ta Celestia Equestrian Marshall. Th’ same one who rescued those ponies from a raider train last month, and who went on to put a stop to th’ bandits who robbed Tombstone.

As some of ya might recall from a few days ago that I’d mentioned this same pony setting out into the wasteland in response to th’ cry for help from the ponies of Old Oaks… well, wasteland… he answered it… and more.”

Welcome to Level 20!

Perk Added: Eye for an Eye: For each critical hit you take, you do an additional 10% damage with all weapons.

Author's Notes:

Editor and Chief: TheGamefilmGuruman

Pre- Reader: BronyKen who has also been doing a reading of my story and can be found on his U Tube channel here.

Original Cover Art: TimeForSP

Current Cover Art: MisterMech Go. Worship his work.