Chapter 5: Getting off on the Right Hoof

I stood quietly by the bridge where I’d seen the stable pony confronted by those two raiders, who were now lying dead at my hooves. Knowing that they’d been able to escape was a bit of a shock, but it sated my curiosity. Now that I'd done the only thing I really wanted to do, I felt a profound sense of loss. My one and only goal after getting my father off the hook was staying out of Enclave custody. Where the hell did that leave me?

I heaved a large sigh and kicked a small stone in frustration, glaring after it as it bounced off into the river. I’d awoken at the crack of dawn and immediately made my way over to the bridge to see what had become of the two unicorns I’d seen last night.

The scene that greeted me when I’d arrived at the bridge had completely subverted my expectations from the previous night. The two captive unicorns had evidently gotten the upper hoof on their captors, and I’d found the abandoned slaver’s chains, as well as slaver and raider corpses strewn all over the immediate area. The raider nearest to me had been strangled to death, one set of chains still wrapped tightly around the deceased pony’s throat. The other slaver had met a far more gruesome end, and I winced at the pulpy mess that remained of his head. Point-blank gunshot.

My emotions were in a bit of a hectic state without anything to occupy me. True to my reckless nature, I hadn’t given any thought to the circumstances of leaving the Enclave behind. Once again I’d acted completely on impulse, only this time it had been love for my family that had pushed me to act.

Everything was gone now. Everything. I’d lost my family, my friends, and in willingly coming to the surface, I’d been officially exiled from my very home for my actions. Sweeping my gaze over the horizon of the desolate, barren husk that was all that remained of war-torn Equestria, the same doubt from last night was quickly beginning to resurface. What the hell had I been thinking? How was I going to survive down here when the dirt munchers had been struggling for going on two centuries?

My stomach filled with the leaden weight of doubt, I turned my back on the corpses and set out in search of the nearest town. The few hours of rest I’d gotten hadn’t brought me back up to one-hundred percent, but they’d still done wonders for me. Not surprisingly, my dislocated wing still felt like a red hot iron spike had been jammed into my shoulder, and my wrapped leg was pretty stiff as well. The healing properties of the magical bandages had done enough to allow me to manage a brisk trot instead of having to hobble around like a lame old mare, which was a huge boon. I’d certainly take what I could get.

My current plan of action was to follow the train tracks out of Ponyville. They’d be a relatively clear—if exposed—travel route, and it was the most logical choice that I could think of. There was also a very good chance the tracks would lead directly to another train station, which would more than likely be in the heart of civilized territory. Or at least, that was the hope.

I made sure to keep my head low as I advanced further towards the edge of town, unwilling to leave myself exposed to any potential sharpshooters with a clear sightline to the streets. I’d gotten a good view of the town’s layout from the upper levels of the rotunda, and I made sure to head in the direction from which I’d seen plumes of smoke on the horizon. Where there was smoke, there was fire. Where there was fire, there were ponies. I’d just have to hope those ponies weren’t hostile.

I couldn’t have been more than a klick out from Ponyville when gunshots and the crump of muffled explosions broke out from back the way I’d come. I halted in my tracks and peered over my shoulder to examine the town from afar. Even from this far away, I could make out the occasional tracer round or cloud of fire and shrapnel from a detonated explosive. The conflict seemed to be taking place primarily in the vicinity of the huge tree-building I’d spotted from the rotunda. Heaving a sigh of relief, I turned my back on the small town and trotted off on my way. Thank the stars I’d gotten the hell out of there before I’d been swept up in that.

It was pretty easy going following the rail lines, and I trotted steadily onward towards what I’d been hoping was a town or settlement in the distance. Time seemed to drag on forever with no notable buildings or landmarks to occupy my attention. I felt like I may as well have been trapped in a desert for all the entertainment the lack of topographical variety was providing me. Then again, I suppose the same could’ve been said of the cloud cover, but at least we had buildings here and there.

After hours of traveling with nothing to distract me, certain things began to flood to the forefront of my mind. Important things, like the fact that my stomach was trying to eat itself from the inside out, and the back of my throat was bone dry and scratchier than a sheet of sandpaper. I’d completely forgotten to ask Astral to bring my survival kit along with the rest of my gear, and I hadn’t been able to find any provisions within the rotunda back in Ponyville. Damn the luck. The hoofful of bits jangling in my pocket was a reminder that I’d at least be able to buy some food and drink, if I could manage to find a pony peddling their wares.

The monotony of travel was eventually broken up when I passed into the outskirts of a tiny little town. As I approached the nearest waypoint on the ScoutBuck’s compass, I was alerted that I’d just entered the town of Apple Valley. I paused at the end of a street to glance over the town and decide if it was worth exploring or not.

Relatively few buildings were intact that I could see. Immediately to my left was Apple Valley Elementary School—a dilapidated partially-collapsed ruin spewing desks, lockers, and other implements of education from within its condemned bowels. The ramshackle bits of foundation left over from several destroyed houses were the only evidence left that this had once been a small residential district. Only one little house was still in fairly good condition, and I made a mental note to check it out later. For now, I was more interested in the little school to my left.

The school was intact enough for ponies to have taken up residence inside of it, and if it was anything like Enclave schools, there would be a nurse’s office. If indeed there were ponies in there, and the nurse’s office was well-stocked on supplies, fixing my wing would be made a whole lot simpler. I’d heard that joint relocation was incredibly painful, and I really didn’t want to have somepony yanking on my injured wing without any kind of pain relief.

It was equally as likely to be completely abandoned, of course. This whole endeavor was reckless and a foolish waste of my time, but then, reckless decisions just so happened to be my forte.

“Excelsior,” I muttered, and pattered over to a collapsed section of wall.

I fought to stay upright as I made my way carefully down a heap of rubble, my hooves slipping occasionally on the loose debris. Even with all the time I spent on my hooves comparatively to my fellow pegasi, I was still realizing how easy I had it with a pair of wings. I couldn’t begin to imagine how the other pony races dealt with walking their whole lives.

Sliding to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the pile, I tripped and scrambled awkwardly to keep my balance. The collapsed portion of the school had taken me down into a basement level. It appeared that the entirety of the room I was standing in was devoted to locker and shower facilities, and just ahead was a set of double doors that led deeper into the old building. Seeing no reason to investigate a simple locker room, I headed on in to the building proper.

I’d entered into a dark, dimly-lit hallway that branched out into two different directions. To either side of me were separate hallways that led deeper into the school’s basement, and I remained where I was while I tried to decide which direction to take. In the end, I settled with my dominant hoof and headed to my right, wending back left as the adjacent hallway immediately turned the corner.

I plodded slowly forward down the corridor, keeping left to squeeze my way by a series of filing cabinets stacked up against the rightmost wall. Yellowed old papers and a thick sheet of dust covered the floor, and were occasionally scattered by my hooves and the light stirring of air from my passage. Just ahead of me was another hallway that ran perpendicular to this one, with a small bookshelf against the wall by the intersection.

As I moved closer to the point where the hallways met, I caught sight of something just out of view. It was just around the right corner of the upcoming hallway, and I fixated on it as I drew closer, slowing my speed to a crawl and prowling stealthily forward.

“Oh, no…” I whispered, dread trickling over me like someone had turned on a tap of ice cold water just above my head. “That is literally the last thing I wanted to see.”

What I’d seen from a few meters back was the corner of a moldy old mattress. Once I’d come close enough to look at it properly under the wan light, it became quite apparent that the mattress was soaked through with blood. Upon the mattress was the source of the bloodstain—a decapitated pony corpse that had been left there to rot for who knew how long. My mind soon put two and two together, and my stomach did a backflip when I considered the very notion of such a disgusting act.

“Raiders…?” I murmured to myself as I backed slowly away from the corpse. “This reeks of those psychos,” I continued while I kept reversing, affording myself a nice glimpse of a massive bloodstain on the wall just above the bookshelf. “I didn’t think they were as wide-spread as this. You think you get a sense of things watching from the skies, but this problem is a lot bigger than I’d initially thought.”

I was about halfway down the corridor when I felt something cold and slimy bump up against my flank, and I immediately whirled to face backward.

“Holy shit!” I screamed in utter shock and terror.

I’d just bumped into yet another corpse, only this one was a far more macabre display than the last. Even as I turned, the cadaver swung freely to and fro at my rump’s agitation, clinking and squeaking softly as it moved through the air. The body had been impaled with several meathooks and strung up from the ceiling with heavy duty chains, where it could dangle freely like some sort of sick, twisted Hearth’s Warming tree decoration.

“Screw this,” I whispered, my voice tinged with very real fear. I tried not to imagine myself hanging from those hooks, or lying on that mattress to be used by some lunatic, but imaginative visions of far worse fates flashed before my eyes in their stead. “Whatever supplies might be in here aren’t worth it. I’m out.”

“Who’s there!?” A hoarse, raspy voice called out. Female. Every hair on my body immediately prickled and my blood turned to ice water. Oh stars, I wasn’t alone. I quickly fumbled my energy pistol out of its holster as the unknown pony called out again. “Is that a new friend t’ play wit’? Come on out! I promise I won’t bite… hard.”

Whoever it was, I couldn’t see them yet. The acoustics within the decrepit old hallway were strange, and I couldn’t tell where the pony’s voice was coming from, either. The ScoutBuck was turning up negative for hostile contacts, so whoever it was had to have slipped behind me. Turning to look directly behind me, I saw that the hallway continued before merging with what I assumed was the leftmost hallway I’d left behind earlier, but still I saw no hostiles in sight. Ahead of me and beyond the mattress with the corpse on it was a pair of doors that I’d been too spooked to investigate. Both were closed, and so I ruled them out as the origin of the steadily encroaching pony. That left back the way I’d come, or the hallway I’d bypassed.

I thought it over for a moment, and then turned to trot towards the corridor ahead, hoping to loop back around behind the stalker and make my exit back the way I’d come.

“HEY!” Somepony screamed from behind me, and I shot a glance over my shoulder to see a filthy unicorn mare standing by the mattress, her eyes wild and crazed, a small pistol held aloft in a field of gently glowing magical energy. My mane crawled when I saw the rictus grin on her face, and her right eyelid twitched several times. “Leavin’ so soon? Where’s the fire, big guy?”

I froze like a startled deer, my eyes locked to the pistol being brandished in my direction. I’d suddenly decided that I didn’t much care for unicorns as hostile combatants. At least with a pegasus, I could read body language. A sudden tensing of the jaw was a dead giveaway that a pony was about to fire. Magic completely erased the one advantage I had with regard to predicting my enemy’s actions.

I wasn’t sure I could turn and squeeze off a shot before she hit me, so I took off running down the hallway in hopes that I could safely round the corner. I did my best to put the hanging body between myself and the raider mare, and I even heard a round or two embed itself into the cold flesh as she opened fire.

The pistol’s thundering report was deafening in the cramped confines of the school’s hallways, and my ears rang profusely as the crazed mare squeezed off shot after shot at me while I fled for my life. Hooves clitter-clattered on the old tile floor beneath me as I bolted and the raider gave chase behind me. The safety of the adjoining hallway was a mere hair’s breadth away when I felt a stray round bury itself into my left flank, tripping me up and sending me sprawling to the floor.

If you’ve never been shot, I can only say that the pain is nearly indescribable. With the adrenaline surging I didn’t feel it at first, but when the pain finally hit me, I was on the ground hissing and cussing up a storm. It was nothing like an energy weapon wound—painful, but neat and almost surgical, and with the benefit of instant cauterization.

Being hit with a bullet felt like somepony had taken a sledgehammer to my flank, only the pressure from the impact wouldn’t fade. Waves of blinding, white-hot pain radiated outward from my perforated rump, and I was too busy trying to stem the flow of blood to notice the raider mare stalking towards me.

“Oh, I think we’re gonna have fun wit’ you,” the mare said sweetly, and I peeled my eyes open, gasping in pain and looking up at her through swimming tears as she stood over me. “Can’t have ya runnin’ off before I get ya acquainted wit’ my friend, though, so nighty night fer now!”

I was about to rattle off a string of expletives at the crazy bitch, but she brought her pistol down from on high and smashed the butt into my skull. My world exploded into twinkling little stars as I flopped to the floor hard, but I managed to cling desperately to consciousness. Slowly, shakily, I reached a hoof forward and attempted to crawl my way to safety, terrified at the thought of being at the mercy of raiders.

And then the raider mare brought her hoof down on my head.

“What should we do with ‘im, Curb Stomp?”

I stirred at the sound of conversation. My head was killing me—that damn raider bitch had nailed me right in the goose egg that had popped up after I’d smashed into those tree limbs in the Everfree. I quickly became aware of the fact that I’d been bound, and I could feel whatever I’d been tied up with cutting tightly into my fetlocks. An experimental twist revealed both the knots and material to be of poor quality, but I didn’t want to make my move yet. If I made a sudden break for freedom, I stood the chance of stirring up the raiders and encouraging them to give chase or cap me on the spot.

I could tell by feel that I’d been bereft of all of my gear. The familiar weight of my battle saddle upon my back was conspicuous in its absence, and I couldn’t feel the snug tightness of my knife sheath or pistol holster. All I’d been left with was my goggles, the jacket on my back and the ScoutBuck, which I now realized wasn’t half as useful as I thought it would be, given that it hadn’t highlighted any hostile targets when the raider mare had been stalking me.

I had no idea how I was going to get out of this one without any weapons, but if I was going to try, I needed to know what I was up against. I cracked open an eyelid just enough to see, revealing the raider mare from earlier, as well as an earth pony stallion conversing with her.

“Dunno,” the stallion shrugged. “I think he’s one a’ dem Enclave ponies, though. Lookit his jacket an’ his squeaky clean coat.”

“What about the mud, Curby?”

“What about the mud?” the stallion snapped.

“Well, ya said he was squeaky clean, an—”

“I mean besides that! He musta crashed in a puddle or somethin’. He had t’ have traveled at least a li’l t’ get t’ where we are, too. I meant he ain’t been down here long.”

“Well, so what?” the mare said, glaring through narrowed eyes at her partner. “That don’t change nothin’, does it? Big deal, so he fell outta the sky. Dem Enclave ponies ain’t gonna come lookin’ fer ‘im.”

“Prolly not,” the stallion shrugged. “I’m fuckin’ starvin’, though. Can we jus’ eat ‘im?”

My heart skipped a few beats, and I had to fight not to break free of my bonds and flee with my tail between my legs. Not yet, I thought. Wait it out for a little while longer.

“What is it wit’ you?” the mare replied incredulously. “Why ya always wanna eat ponies? No, ya can’t eat ‘im! Jeez, sometimes ya make me embarrassed t’ even hang out wit’ ya, I swear. We ain’t had any fun with ‘im yet, anyway. Never even seen a pegasus before, never mind had the chance t’ roll around with one. We’d be retarded t’ pass up a chance like this.”

“He is kinda hot,” the stallion said amorously, and I felt my mane crawl uncomfortably as he turned to leer down at me. “Lookit his legs, Garrote. Long an’ slender like a mare’s. An’ that plot—mmm! Nice an’ firm, jus’ the way I like it. I bet he’d look real good in a dress, too. Definitely got the ass fer it.”

“You’re not the first pony to tell me that,” I said, opening my eyes and glaring up at my captors. I’d had enough of listening to this asshole judge me like some exotic cultivar of apple. “The difference here is that the last guy who said that to me had some class. How about buying me dinner? If you want access to this temple, you have to pay the proper tribute, shit-for-brains.”

I sat up while the raider processed my snippy remark and took note of my surroundings. I was locked up in a cell made of wrought iron bars that had been erected in the middle of a sizable foyer. Just past the two raiders I could see a set of double doors with daylight pouring through their windows. Freedom! All I had to do was make it past these yahoos, and my salvation was mere meters away.

“You think yer fuckin’ funny, don’tcha?” the raider called Curb Stomp growled, slamming a hoof aggressively against the bars of the cell, perhaps to try and intimidate me. It wasn’t working. I was already as nervous as I was going to get, and my fast mouth was the direct byproduct of my fear.

“Oh, I know I’m funny, Ugly. You’re just too damn stupid to appreciate good humor.”

Curb Stomp nickered and reared up, slamming both forehooves against the bars and rattling them once more. “I don’t think ya realize where ya is, li’l birdie. Ya ain’t safe up in yer li’l Enclave para… parad… p-para, um…” The raider stallion furrowed his brow and scrunched up his muzzle in deep thought.

“Paradise, Genius,” I provided for him.

“Fuck you!” Curb Stomp shouted. “This shit right here is what I’m talkin’ about! Yer down here with us Wasteland ponies now, and we ain’t very nice t’ ponies like you who think they’s better’n us. Let’s see ya talk shit when I’m splittin’ ya in half, ya little faggot!”

“Little?” I snorted. “Dude, I’m taller than you are. I hope you have a stepstool hidden away somewhere.”

“That’s it, yer ass is mine!” Curb Stomp screamed, and he seized a little latch in his teeth and threw the cell’s gate open. “Ya better hope ya got somethin’ t’ bite, ‘cause I’m goin’ in raw! Imma fuck you bloody, an’ then ya know what? Imma eat ya while yer cryin’ fer yer mommy like a li’l bitch! I don’t care what Garrote says!”

I swallowed nervously. I was officially more afraid for my life than I’d ever been before. My heart was slamming against my ribcage, I was doused in a cold sweat, and it was taking every ounce of my self-control to refrain from shaking like a terrified little foal and pissing myself. As Curb Stomp stalked towards me, I tensed and readied myself to break the bonds around my legs. Once he got within striking distance, I could sucker punch him and flee to safety. Or at least, that was the hope.

“Wait just a fuckin’ second, Curby!” Garrote snarled, and I relaxed slightly as the unicorn mare intercepted the enraged stallion. “He’s mine! I found ‘im, so I get t’ fuck ‘im first! You can jus’ wait yer fuckin’ turn!”

“’The fuck do you care?” Curb Stomp sneered, turning to face Garrote and leaving his back exposed. “It ain’t like you c’n get anythin’ outta ‘im, anyway. I doubt this li’l limpdick faggot could even get it up fer you t’ have yerself a good time. I ain’t got that problem. He don’t need t’ be hard fer me t’ rut ‘im like the li’l bitch he is. Ain’t that right, homo?”

“Fuck you!” Garrote shrieked. “He got a mouth, don’t he?”

Well, this definitely took the top spot for most awkward situation of my life. I’d never had somepony fight over the right to rape me first before.

“Oh yeah, like he’s gonna wanna play along with a face full a’ yer sweaty box,” Curb Stomp shot back. “You’ll be lucky if he don’t start gaggin’ an blow chunks up there. Now get outta my way,” he growled, shoving the mare roughly aside. “You c’n have yer fun once I break ‘im. I’m sure all the fight’ll leave ‘im once he realizes that he ain’t got nothin’ t’ look forward to fer the rest a’ his life but bein’ my li’l cock sleeve. An’ if he wants t’ keep on fightin’, then I’ll jus’ eat ‘im bite by bite ‘til he bleeds t’ death.”

Curb Stomp stalked closer and filled my view, leaving me unable to see Garrote or what she was doing. I couldn’t rely on her to distract him any longer—he was determined to have his way with me at this point, and I couldn’t let that happen. As the raider stallion drew up on me, I gave my forelegs a sharp jerk outward and my bindings frayed and snapped, leaving me free to scramble backward and to my hooves.

The look of surprise on Curb Stomp’s face when I broke free would have been amusing had I not still been in very real danger. I made sure to watch him like a hawk in case he went for his weapon while I tried to decide if I should run him down and make my escape. A moment before I could start moving, however, I heard a crack and a sickening crunch, and the earth pony crumpled to a heap at my hooves.

“I said, ‘wait yer turn,’ Curby,” Garrote said sweetly, and I looked up to see the mare standing just behind his unconscious body, the pistol she’d shot me with enshrouded in her telekinetic field and held aloft. “Take a nap. He’ll still be here when ya wake up.”

I grimaced and took a step back as her wild eyes swiveled up to look straight at me. I’d never seen a crazy pony before, but that wasn’t necessary for me to see that Garrote was completely insane. Her eyes were bloodshot and wide as dinner plates, and her pupils had shrunk to the size of pinpricks. Every so often an eyelid or one of her ears would twitch, and she was shaking like a pony who’d been forced to weather a blizzard for hours completely naked.

I found myself backing slowly away from the raider mare, and I didn’t realize I’d run out of room until my flank hit the bars, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my wounded haunch. I pinched my eyes shut tight and stifled a yelp, fighting the impulse to just drop to the floor and cradle my leg.

“Nowhere t’ go, li’l birdie,” Garrote said as she started forward towards me. “It’s jus’ you an’ me all alone in yer li’l cage. Ya might not realize it yet, but I didja a real favor knockin’ Curby out. He woulda worn ya out like an old tire. I seen it happen before. Seen ponies die from it. Lucky fer you, I’m a li’l more gentle. If ya play nice, I promise t’ make it hurt good instead a’ bad.”

“What makes you think I won’t just club you over the head like you did to me?” I challenged, holding up a hoof to show her my lack of bonds. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not tied up anymore. I’m not about to hop into bed with you, and I’m not going to let you make me get you off, either. Tough break, lady. Time for you to find out what blue balls feels like.”

“Aww, I was hopin’ you’d play nice,” Garrote said, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “I guess we gots t’ do it the hard way, then.”

Without any further delay, Garrote made her move, and it was then that I realized that my monumental stupidity had screwed me over yet again. The unicorn mare took aim with the small-caliber revolver with which she’d clubbed her partner into unconsciousness and squeezed the trigger. Again, I cried out as the bullet tore into my right shoulder and I collapsed to the floor, my hoof clutched tightly to the hole that had just opened up in my jacket.

“Gah, fuck!” I hissed, clenching my teeth and closing my eyes tightly as I attempted to endure the pain. “Why!? What the fuck is the matter with you, you crazy bitch?”

“I told ya I’d only make it hurt bad if ya didn’t play nice!” Garrote chastised, and the hairs of my mane prickled when I heard her moving across the cell towards me. Before I could scoot away, Garrote rolled me over, and my cry of pain when my dislocated wing was roughly agitated seemed to only further compel the mare. “Go ahead an’ hurt me back. I like it rough.

“Don’t even think that’s an invitation t’ try an escape, though, Hot Plot,” the raider continued, and I instinctively shrank back away from her when I felt a blade pressed firmly up against my neck. A glance down revealed my knife to be held within Garrote’s magic, ready to open me up like a letter if I so much as attempted to escape. “Try an’ push me off or grab onta me an’ I might just… slip. Understand?”

“Then what’s the point of—mmph!”

My question was quickly muffled as Garrote sat herself astride me, slamming her forehooves down on either side of my head as she leaned forward to press her lips to mine. I fought the urge to vomit as her disgusting, sour-tasting rancid breath entered my mouth along with her tongue, and I began to thrash and twist in an attempt to spare myself from her nauseating taste. Time seemed to stretch on forever while Garrote remained locked onto my mouth like a persistent lamprey eel, and she eventually parted of her own volition, but not before biting down on my bottom lip and pulling back hard enough to draw blood.

“Mmm…” Garrote sighed in pleasure as I coughed and spluttered, gagging at the offensive taste lingering on my tongue. Urgh, I think that may have been what meat tasted like. “Ya taste good, pretty boy. Kinda like those cherry-flavored snack cakes ya find layin’ around every once in a while.”

“I’m not at all sorry to say that I don’t share that sentiment,” I managed to choke out.

“Really?” Garrote said, quirking an eyebrow skeptically. “Your li’l buddy is sayin’ somethin’ different.”

A wave of nausea and shame washed over me at my body’s unwanted response to the raider mare’s advances. I didn’t have a snappy comeback for that one, and even if I did, I doubted the mare would believe me. I didn’t need to justify myself to her, anyway. What I needed was to get her off of me before she got the chance to take this any further. Stars knew I didn’t want any of the diseases this filthy, debauched pony may have been carrying.

I wanted out. I wanted out. I didn’t care if she’d threatened to slit my throat if I tried to escape, I didn’t want any part of this. With the mare sitting atop me, my forehooves were pinned beneath her, so I did the only thing I could think of. I lunged forward as far as I was able and aimed squarely for her muzzle with my forehead. Pain blossomed between my eyes, and I sucked a breath in through my teeth as my skull made impact, but my sudden assault didn’t deter Garrote in the slightest. Against all logic, she found it both amusing, and apparently arousing as well.

“Careful, I almost cut ya,” Garrote giggled even as thin trickles of blood began to ooze from her nostrils, and I felt the bile rise in my throat as she reached her tongue up to lick away one of the trails as it flowed down her muzzle. “Mmm, yeah…” Garrote sighed pleasurably, leaning forward so that her chest obscured my view, and whispering quietly into my ear. “Jus’ like that, big guy. I think we’re gonna have fun, you an’ me. Here, lemme return the favor.”

I shivered as her breath tickled the hairs of my ear, cringing when I felt her begin to nibble aggressively upon it. I liked when Solara nibbled on my ears, and I even dabbled in a bit of ear nibbling myself, but it was always gentle. Garrote was seeking to cause as much pain as possible, and I fought to shove her off of me when she suddenly clamped down hard.

“Ow!” I yelled as she locked on like a vise. “Ow, get off! Ow, ow, OWWW!”

When the pain became too much to bear, I thrashed until I got my hindlegs up under the raider and kicked out, feeling a surge of triumph when I saw the mare’s look of complete shock as she went toppling backward, dropping my knife to the floor as she went. I took advantage of the opportunity, scrambling to my hooves as she did the same just across from me. I was about to begin searching for her pistol so I could kick it away before she could shoot me a third time, but I completely forgot about that when Garrote stood and my eyes caught something clenched in between her teeth.

The ambient noises inside the room seemed to fade out and were replaced with the dull roar of the blood rushing through my ears. I could feel it streaming downward from my wounded left ear even as it continued to throb and radiate with burning waves of pain. Just hooves away, Garrote began to chew the object in her mouth greedily, a thin trickle of blood that wasn’t hers staining one corner. She was smiling. She was reveling in my pain and misery, in inflicting bodily harm upon me.

I clenched my jaw when I saw her throat contract as she swallowed the piece of my ear she’d just bitten off, and I could feel myself beginning to quiver with rage. All pain from my injuries dulled to tolerable levels, and my chest began to heave as my heart rate skyrocketed. My mind completely emptied of rational thought, to be replaced by a single command, on loop.

Get it back.

“You BITCH!” I screamed, stooping to snatch my knife up in my mouth and rushing forward even as the mare’s triumphant grin turned into an expression of complete bewilderment. “You fucking bitch! Give it back! Give me my fucking ear back! GIVE IT BACK!”

Even as I reached the raider mare and threw my shoulder into her, knocking her to the floor, she continued to laugh in that same, deranged giggle. I followed her down, my irrational fury driving me to plunge my knife hilt-deep into the mare’s stomach. I felt muscle and sinew parting through the handle as I pulled the knife free with a squelch and stabbed back down with it savagely, rivulets of blood flying upward to splash and collect upon the hairs of my face.

Garrote shuddered beneath me, and I barely acknowledged the sounds of her pained whimpering as I again sliced into her abdomen with the knife. This time I cut down towards me, opening a deep rend in her stomach before dropping my knife to the floor and jamming my hooves into the hole I’d carved into the raider pony. With panic-stricken hooves I tore at the wound to widen it, reaching into the mare’s body and shoving intestines aside until I found her stomach, hell-bent on retrieving the bit of me she’d swallowed.

“St-Stop,” Garrote whispered meekly as I seized the pouchlike organ in my hooves and yanked it roughly free of the visceral membrane holding it steady within her abdominal cavity, using my teeth to sever the connections to her esophagus and intestines. “Please, stop.”

I dropped Garrote’s eviscerated stomach to the floor and grabbed my knife again, slashing into it and squeezing it until all of its contents emptied out onto the floor. It was then that I saw it—a tiny little mangled lump of crimson-haired flesh spewed out of the stomach as I applied pressure to it, and I quickly snatched it up in my hooves and stared at it with a sense of grief and profound loss. There was no way I could reattach this. My ear would be disfigured forever.

“Help…” Garrote squeaked, and I looked up to see the raider mare reaching out toward her unconscious friend, her eyes brimming with tears. There was legitimate fear there. She was completely and utterly terrified. “H-Help, Curby. I don’t wanna die…”

I looked up at the mare who had just moments ago been trying to take advantage of me in my moment of weakness. Seeing the dying pony now begging for her life brought me crashing back to reality, and hard. I looked down at my bloodstained hooves in horror, the warm crimson liquid standing out clearly against my own coat by a shade or two. I dropped the piece of my ear to the floor as they began to shake, and I frantically began trying to wipe the blood off.

“Need to get it off,” I murmured, my voice wavering in a panic. “Why won’t it come off? Oh stars, why can’t I get it off?”

I froze and looked up again to see the mare as if for the first time. What I saw was a scene right out of a stars-damned horror movie. Garrote lay flat on her back, one of her forehooves stretched out towards the still-unconscious Curb Stomp. A massive rend had been opened up in her abdominal cavity, and her viscera were strewn all around her body like she’d swallowed a grenade and been blown apart from the inside. Her face was frozen in a masque of pain and fear, and as I looked into her glossy dead eyes, I felt dread settle in my stomach like a lead weight.

That couldn’t have been me. There was no way I could’ve done that—I wasn’t capable of such an atrocity. I looked down at my hooves again, bloodstained and with the remains of Garrote’s stomach and my discarded combat knife sitting on the floor as a backdrop.

“Oh, sweet merciful Polaris,” I whispered, and immediately scrambled to my hooves and hobbled out of the cell on my wounded limbs. I made it maybe four steps before I had to stop, stooping down and retching violently as the thought became too much to bear. I remained there for some time, panting and dripping sweat down into my pile of vomit while my mind buzzed with white noise. I was shaking from head to hoof and making little whimpering sounds on every exhale as I attempted to come to terms with what I’d just done.

“S-She, I… I had to,” I reasoned with myself. “I had to, I had no choice.”

But I didn’t have to painfully eviscerate her and tear her stomach out to retrieve the top half of my ear.

“She’s—was a raider,” I gibbered, my words coming rapidly and colliding with one another as they poured out of my mouth. “A dirt pony. They couldn’t give a shit less if they look like well-dressed turds, but we’re civilized. We’re better than that. What am I without my looks? Just another pegasus. Raiders aren’t like us, it’s different. It’s different, it has to be different. I’m not… I’m not like them.”

This wasn’t how it started, was it? A single traumatic event leading to a downward spiral into insanity?

A sudden, intense feeling of claustrophobia crashed over me like a tidal wave, powerful and overwhelming. I felt like the walls were closing in around me, and I began hyperventilating in my panic. I had to get out of here—away from these two and as far away from this stars-forsaken school as I could get. I couldn’t spend another moment trapped in here, or I was likely to completely lose my mind.

I only took a moment to rubberneck around and locate my gear, discarded just outside of the cell in a large pile. Against my better judgment, I pattered back into the cell and retrieved my knife, intentionally averting my gaze from Garrote’s corpse. Once I’d collected it, I snatched up my things and bolted for the door, not bothering to take the time to fasten them securely.

Once I was free of the building, I ran. I ran and put all the distance between the school and myself that I could, thankfully having the presence of mind to head in the direction I’d been traveling before I’d stopped. I ran until my muscles burned with fatigue, and then I tripped and fell, rolling to a stop in the dirt.

I didn’t move from where I’d fallen, I merely rolled onto my back to look straight up at the cloudy skies, hurting and completely winded. If this was how things were going to be, I honestly wasn’t sure how long I would last down here. I’d killed plenty of ponies in my years of service to the Enclave military, but I’d never lost control like I’d done back there. I’d always had a very short temper, but it had never manifested in a display of such savage violence before.

Was my behavior a product of the Wasteland environment, or did I really have the potential to be that terrible a pony without the threat of the law to punish me?

I immediately abandoned that line of thought, shivering uncomfortably at the implications of such a circumstance. To distract myself, I peered around with my limited range of vision until I saw a little settlement in the distance. Was that the place I was looking for?

“Thank Polaris,” I groaned as I pushed myself to my hooves and started walking.

The small town loomed ever larger as I dragged my hooves towards it. It appeared to be a reasonably-sized little settlement from the outside, but it was difficult to see much of the town. Train cars had been stacked high to surround the town like protective walls, and it made seeing within to the town proper extremely difficult. On a good day, I’d have flown up to get a lay of the town, but the fact that I couldn’t do just that was the main reason for even seeking this place out. I just had to hope these ponies would be receptive to me. My luck so far hadn't really held out, but one could hope, right?

I tried to clear my mind of the horrors I'd experienced and committed within the elementary school while I limped my way over to the gates leading into the town. An indicator popped up on the ScoutBuck as I neared that identified the location as the town of New Appleloosa. I met no resistance as I made my way into the small town, but quickly slowed to a stop when I took a good look around. Something was wrong. Ponies were staring at me, and some even fled into dwellings or further into the town. Nopony was concerned that I was riddled full of holes and walking around with a dislocated wing, they were all just… glaring at me with hatred.

As I stood there aching, bleeding, and trying to figure out what I’d done to earn the ire of so many strangers, it didn’t take long before I drew the attention of a black and grey stallion who carried himself with an air of authority. He moved steadily towards me with purpose, and he didn’t look any happier to see me than the rest of the town’s populace did. In fact, it looked like he was ready to beat the shit out of me.

“Whoa, pal. Hey, easy,” I croaked, taking a step back and holding up a forehoof in a gesture of peace. “I’m not looking for trouble.”

The earth pony stallion glared daggers at me. “Now lookie here feller, Ah don’t know who y’ think y’ are, but ain’t no Enclave ponies welcome in this here town. Ah ain’t gonna abide y’ comin’ down in t’ muh town uninvited, stirrin’ up all kinds o’ ruckus and rilin’ up muh citizenry. All y’all Enclave pegasi are more trouble’n yer worth. Ah ain’t bout’ t’ let y’ jus' go ahead an’ get on with whatever it is y’ think yer gonna do here in New Appleloosa. ‘Specially if it ain’t in muh citizens’ best interests. Ah run this here town, and Ah’ll protect it iffin' Ah have to.”

“Look,” I said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, using every last bit of mental fortitude I had intact to refrain from having a breakdown. “I am very badly hurt, sir. I have no first aid supplies, and I need immediate medical attention or I’m going to bleed to death. I’ve lost a lot of blood already, and I’ve already pushed myself too hard just getting here. Please, just let me use your clinic. Don’t make me beg.”

“Ah don’t think y’ heard me, stranger,” the pony replied. “Y’ ain’t welcome here. If y’all Enclave ponies is too good t’ live down here with the likes o’ us, then yer too good t’ use our clinic, too. Why don’t y’ jus’ fly on up back t’ yer friends an’ get patched up there?”

“Because I am hurt,” I explained again, doing my best to keep calm. “I can’t go back anyway, because I left the Enclave. Why else would I be down here?”

“Ah c’n see a few pretty decisive pieces o’ evidence that yer story’s a bunch o’ hogwash, but I’ll humor ya an’ get a second opinion from somepony who knows this stuff a whole mess better’n Ah do.”

My head dipped downward and I swayed woozily on my hooves while the pony stuck a hoof in his mouth and blew a shrill whistle, calling out to somepony else in the town to come to us. I pleaded internally for the pony he was calling to resolve the issue as expediently as possible. I wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer. I was completely exhausted, and it was all I could do not to pass out standing right there at the town’s entry gates.

“What’s all the ruckus, Railright?” I snapped my head up to see a pegasus standing beside the pony I’d been speaking to. “Ah ain’t got time t’ dally. Ah gotta git, y’ know Ah got caravan duty t’day.”

The pegasus the pony called Railright had beckoned over was a rust-coated stallion with a black desperado hat perched carefully between his ears. A battle saddle that looked to be heavily customized rode upon his back, and was outfitted with a pair of long rifles. None of these things were what jumped out at me, however. What caught my attention was the mark of burned and long since scarred flesh upon his flank depicting a cloud and lightning bolt. A Dashite? Here?

Why Railright had called this guy over suddenly made perfect sense.

“Ah assume y’ called me over ‘cause o’ this feller here,” the Dashite said, inclining his head at me. “Can’t say as Ah know what it is y’ want me t’ do ‘bout ‘im.”

“It’s real simple, Ah jus’ want ya t’ validate his claim that he ain’t in the Enclave no more,” Railright said, “Ah suspect he’s still with ‘em, and Ah ain’t ‘bout t’ let some Enclave pony into New Appleloosa t’ do whatever the hell they sent him here t’ do. Ah done took a look at his jacket already, an’ it’s loaded with all kinds o’ Enclave patches an’ things.”

“I’m not with the Enclave anymore!” I shouted suddenly, causing the two ponies to jump. “My wing is dislocated and I’ve been shot, I need help. I can’t fix these injuries all on my own! Look, if this is about money, I can pay you. Please, just help me before I die of infection or blood loss.”

“Anymore?” the pegasus quirked an eyebrow and took an acute interest in my recon patch. “Ah can’t say as Ah believe you was ever in the Enclave, stranger. Ain’t no such thing as Neighvarro Recon, an’ believe me, Ah would know. Ah done grew up there, Ah served in the military a’fore Ah came on down here, and we didn’t have no squadrons dedicated to recon. This some kind o’ joke, feller?”

“No joke, I swear. I hate to break it to you, pal, but things have changed since you left,” I wheezed. “We don’t do the bi-annual recon sweeps anymore, and we haven’t for quite a long time. It’s every night now. The higher ups want more information about the Wasteland faster these days. I don’t pretend to understand what’s going on, but it’s become something of an issue of importance with them.”

“Well iffin’ it’s true that ‘y left, then that would make ya a Dashite. The first in quite a long time, Ah reckon.”

“No,” I said immediately. “No, I’m not a Dashite, look.” I turned so that both ponies could see my cutie mark, still proudly displayed—if slightly marred—by my bloody flank. “It was something of a rushed decision. My father landed himself into some hot water, and the only way I could think of to get him off the hook was to take the blame and flee down here. There was no time for them to brand me.”

“Makes yer story a li’l hard t’ corroborate, then,” the pegasus stated, pushing up his hat to scratch at the back of his head and heaving a long, perplexed sigh. “Ah don't really get the feelin' that he's a bad pony, Railright. Ah really don’t think he’ll be any trouble t’ ya, iffin' Ah'm honest. Ah mean… look at the poor feller, he’s covered in blood.”

“Some of that isn’t mine,” I replied, feeling that it was best to be honest. “I ran into some raiders on the way here. It… it didn’t go well for me, that’s why I need help.”

“Regardless o’ whether or not that’s the truth, Ah think y’ c’n trust him, ‘least fer now,” the pegasus said, shrugging at Railright. “An’ if yer that worried about it, jus’ have somepony watch him fer ya. He can’t get up t’ any mischief if y’ got eyes on ‘im.”

“All right, well, Ah better let y’ git back to it, then,” Railright relented. “Ah guess Ah’ll jus’ tell everypony t’ make sure they keep an eye on ‘im, cause goddesses know Ah ain’t gonna let him jus' wander around on his lonesome. C’mon Enclave, the clinic’s right over yonder.”

“Hey,” I called out to the orange buck as he turned to leave. “Thanks for helping me out. Really. I’ve been having a tough time of it since I got down here, and you’re the first pony to really give me the benefit of the doubt.” I stuck out my hoof to shake his, introducing myself as he clasped hooves with me. “I’m Lieutenant Mach, Neighvarro 1st Recon.”

“Cap’n Calamity,” the Dashite answered as we shook, but the second I heard his name, my grip went limp. All I could hear were his words, echoing over and over again in my head. My heart had begun to slam against my ribcage in a blind panic, and I backed away from him slowly, my eyes darting to the rifles mounted on his battle saddle.

“C-Calamity…? Deadshot Calamity…?”

I’d never met him in person, so I’d never known what he looked like, but I had sure as hell heard of him. Everypony knew Captain ‘Deadshot’ Calamity. He’d won the Best Young Sharpshooter’s competition four years running. Years ago, he’d done what I hadn't cared enough to do until just last night—he’d come down here to make a difference. I hadn’t had the opportunity to see enough plight and tragedy in the Wasteland by the time of his defection to have been compelled to do the same. It had taken years of patrols for me to end up as jaded as I was these days.

I remembered being told one thing about the pony shaking my hoof, and I remembered it very clearly. Calamity had been branded and exiled for murdering his entire wing of troops.

A concerned look came over Calamity’s face and he attempted to say something, but all I heard was garbled, distorted noise. I lost my grip on reality for a moment, and it wasn’t until I hit the ground that I realized I’d lost my balance and fallen over. More garbled voices continued to talk above me, but I couldn’t focus on what they were saying. Black started to seep in at the corners of my vision, and I gave up fighting. The ground was so comfortable, and it was such a nice time for a nap.

I was barely aware of being lifted before my eyes finally drooped shut and the sweet, cool dark depths of unconsciousness swept me away into glorious oblivion.

Author's Notes:

You're probably wondering where the third part of the old chapter 2 is. That'll come later, because I've still got a bit of work to do on it. I didn't want to upload the previous chapter without at least having this one ready to go, as it was so short, but the two together should be enough to tide you over until I get some more rewrites done and out of the way!