"Contaminated."

Only a few days ago, that word had power. Over what I thought… what I believed. You have to understand, Tailwind and I grew up in a society so different from the surface. We were in such a state of constant fear of the surface’s terrors that eventually we became numb to it. “Contamination” is the word used to describe what we all believed was the concept of bringing a terrible contagion of some sort back to the clouds. Radiation? Disease? In hindsight, nopony really knew. All we knew was that we had to keep “contaminated” ponies out of the clouds, at all costs… Even our own kin, should it come to that. No one questioned, because what was the alternative? What if we were wrong, and our way of life was destroyed as a result? No one wanted to be the one to bring it all crashing down.

I was no different. I mean, there were certain restrictions lifted when I joined the military. We learned that the Steel Rangers, for example, had managed to survive on the surface. Hell, that turned out to be one of the few bits of intel that had actually been correct, too. But there was always that worry, that terror of jeopardizing the cloud-cities. It was why we accepted the fact that there were no rescue teams for stranded squads. Why waste the ponies? The rescue teams might not make it back either, and considering the lost team might be “contaminated” anyways, why risk it?

It was fearmongering, but it was all too easy to get caught up in it when the stakes were perceived as high as they were. For that matter, look what I’d just seen: the Raiders certainly gave the impression that many of the stories we were told were actually true. Chess, Grace, and Bernard were decent ponies, but how was I to know there would be more like them down here? For all I knew, “Raider” might have been a disease… a preposterous notion, as I’m sure you’re aware, but it seemed at least plausible to me that we might well have passed the point of no return, that just maybe it would be best if we just... disappeared down here.

In one aspect at least, I was correct: after what we've seen, our government will never willingly let us back above the clouds...

—Snap Roll’s Journal

When I awoke, Bernard was nowhere to be seen. It bothered me that I hadn’t consciously been aware of going to sleep, and couldn’t point to when it claimed me during the night. I still suspect he’d been keeping one eye open, watching me as much as outside. I know I never would have trusted me to have kept watch in the state I’d been in.

The fire had been stoked before he left, with the last of our fuel beginning to burn low just as what little of Celestia’s light managed to make it to the surface crept through the entryway. We’d just barely had enough fuel to last the night. I shuddered, imagining the possibility of us having run out during the night, and decided action would be the best way to avoid dwelling on that notion. I buckled the battlesaddle back over the Redeye wraps and gathered what meager kit I hadn’t slept with before deciding to venture out into the storm in search of Bernard.

The weather was as dismal as before. I wondered if I’d seen enough snow to fill a lifetime by that point. It was only a little comforting seeing the thoroughly frozen forms of the dead raiders now covered by snowfall, forming little bumps in the otherwise uniform layer of snow covering the courtyard. A trail of partially covered hoofprints led to the bunker’s entrance. Following them led me through the entryway, past the still locked blast door, and around the corner.

I found Bernard sitting at the head of the stairs, staring up at the dissected pony strung above the stairwell, an unreadable expression upon his face. He seemed to sense my presence, but didn’t move to greet me.

I sat beside him, glancing up at the corpse. There was no shock this time, I knew it was coming and it held nothing more to haunt my dreams. Of course, I’d found worse to inhabit those very same dreams by the day’s end, but it still horrifies me that in a mere couple days I’d already started to… well, in a word, change. To adapt, to shield myself from the horrors of the wasteland. I still worry that I’m becoming callous to it all, to be honest.

After a few moments, I was the one to break the silence. I’m not a pony to enjoy the company of my own thoughts for too long, after all. “You’ve seen this sort of thing before.” I phrased it as a statement, though it was more of an open speculation on my part.

He replied softly, perhaps out of a desire for his voice not to travel, but more likely because of the intimacy of the question. “More than once. My… aunt and uncle were caught by a clan when I was fourteen. I went with my pa and some locals, flushed ‘em out. I saw… my cousin done up like the buck here.”

The thought drew a grimace from me. When I was fourteen, I was fooling around and seeing how much I could get away with in military education school.

I found myself at a bit of a loss. I knew how meaningless any apology or condolence on my part would have been, and he definitely seemed to be a pony to appreciate a companionable silence, regardless of the macabre surroundings.

After a minute or so, I switched conversational gears. “So why are you living with Chess and Grace?”

He glanced at me in an appraising manor, studying me for a short while. He finally let out a soft sigh and dropped his gaze, evidently having decided that I was worth confiding in. Or maybe he just wanted to get the story off his chest. Regardless, he started in a soft tone, with a hint of bitterness to his voice. “A stallion ― a mercenary only referred to as ‘the Serpent’ came through and casually took everything from me… from us.” His normally rather stoic expression cracked, and he began to weep softly. “He killed everypony, my brother and his mare, my father. My- my wife…” He took a deep breath before continuing, “He just slaughtered us, like he was cutting chaff. He took my daughter, from my wife’s dying hooves.” He glanced up at me, anger smouldering beneath the tears. “He made me watch. He let me live to tell the story... but he didn’t exactly make it easy.” He gestured to several faint scars, barely visible beneath his dark coat. The anger quieted as he continued, settling back into the calm expression he always wore. “Chess and Grace, they… helped me out. Took me in, gave me shelter and food, much like they did for you.”

So that’s what Chess meant by “It’s what I do.”

Since I’d met him, Bernard had always struck me as being quiet and withdrawn. It occurred to me that it must have taken quite a bit of effort to open up about all that to a stranger… a pegasus, no less. I appreciated it. However, we were still having this conversation in front of the gruesomely mutilated corpse of what was once a pony.

I got to my hooves with only a small hitch in my movements… my injured foreleg was still giving me trouble, even though the glue was still holding. Bernard looked up, raising a questioning eyebrow. I replied as I glanced down the stairs, “We should be getting back to the waystation… but she deserves better than that.”

He grunted an agreement, or at least an acquiescence to my statement. Regardless, we once again headed down the blood slick stairs. The corpses were exactly as we’d left them, scattered throughout the hallway and the small room. The stable mare looked almost peaceful, resting on her back with her forehooves crossed above her chest… amidst a miniature battlefield of dead raiders, and spattered with blood. It occurred to me that I never did learn her name. At the time, I supposed I never would.

We’d have to search the lair eventually, and there might have been other captives left there once the raiders had departed. Readying the shotguns on my battlesaddle, I took the first steps into the larger room, where I’d first seen the Chief and the others. I tried not to breathe in too often, as we cordoned off and methodically searched the room. There were no survivors, raider or otherwise. From what we’d seen at the entrance, similar treatment had been levied upon what had once been ponies that now resided in the cages I’d glimpsed earlier. They had used the contents of a surgical kit, which was thoroughly crusted over with dried blood. I refused to touch it. As much as I wanted medical supplies, I settled for pilfering what little magical bandage there was, the few pressure bandages that weren’t soiled with blood, and a single purple-hued healing potion that wasn’t quite full.

Of the assorted weaponry wielded by the raiders, we managed to salvage one of the submachine guns by butchering a second for parts, with a little over a hundred rounds of ammo to go with it. We found a trio of small, apple-shaped grenades in a box in one corner of the room. I had a suspicion why they hadn't used those when we were trapped, but was glad that they hadn't. That all went into my saddlebags, along with the wolf’s head helmet the first raider had been wearing (Bernard insisted it would be worth something), the remainder of the raider’s kindling, and the enchanted sword. The sickle that the mare who’d tried to cut my head off had been using (which, upon inspecting the hilt, was discovered to be titled “The deadly sickle of deadly deathness”), I broke apart and trampled into matchsticks, storing the combat knives that had been part of it. I know it was petty, but fuck that thing. We also stripped the thoroughly frozen Raider Chief’s corpse of it’s plate armour. It was heavy, but that much metal was guaranteed to be worth the effort. Bernard carried that in his saddlebags ― as it turned out, the armour was designed to fold up rather neatly.

Once we had looted as much as we could, we turned to the dead. With only the two of us, there was nothing to be done about the large room. It just wasn’t feasible to deal with that many corpses quickly. We forced the door closed, and left a warning of what was inside. It didn’t take long to cut down the corpse from the entryway. We cleared off a patch of ground in the parade square. Under Bernard’s guidance, we thawed what ground we could with the fuel available, and dug a pair of graves. I didn’t ask where he’d learned to do that.

Without fanfare, we buried the mutilated corpse and the Stable mare in a pair of shamefully shallow graves. It was the best we could do. As we shoveled dirt and snow on top of her, I asked Bernard if there were any surface traditions that should be abided by. Cremation had always been the way of the pegasi ― even before the war, if the older books are to be believed. We never really saw ties to the land below as being worthwhile, I suppose. It was symbolic of our return to the skies we’d always loved… though as far as symbolism goes, I guess even in death we all settle to the ground eventually.

“Traditions,” he replied with a sigh, slowly shaking his head. “Dead is dead. A decent burial is more than most would grant her.”

With his words, we lapsed into silence as we worked. When we were done, I glanced up at him wearing a somber expression. “C’mmon, Bernard. They’re waiting for us back at the waystation. Lets get away from all this.”

Bernard gave the courtyard one last glance, before nodding in agreement. And so we started off on the road back.

As we returned to the waystation, through the billowing snow I could make out Grace emerging from one of the smaller buildings. She could very easily have been waiting in that building all day, a good several hours now, watching for us to return. She was completely wrapped up in a warm looking overcoat, seemingly thicker and of a very different design than the stolen Redeye barding I wore. She called out to us as we got closer, “Made me suspect the worst when y’all didn’t show u-” She paused mid-sentence, eyes going wide.

Oh shit, my wings!

She whipped her assault rifle off of its neck strap faster than even I could react, drawing a bead on my breast. There was no doubt she was aiming to kill. There was murder in her eyes, I could feel it from a solid twenty meters away.

“Wait, I can explain!” I stammered, holding up my forehooves in what I hoped against hope looked like a Don’t shoot me! gesture. I pointedly left the battlesaddle’s firing bit undeployed. “I’m sorry, Grace. I wasn’t truthful with you to protect Tailwind and myself. Chess knew, and he knows why we hid it.”

She snapped back at me, “And we’re supposed to believe you?! Pa may’ve forgotten but I sure haven’t, you lot keep commin’ down here, prayin’ on honest folk. Kill and take what ya please then run away back to yer cloud paradise!" She gave a determined stomp of a forehoof for emphasis. "I’ve had enough, life here is hard enough without fucking turkeys acting like the Steel Rangers without even the audacity to claim its for our own good!” Rocked onto my back hooves by the allegations, I was momentarily at a loss for words.

Where did this even come from? What?!

Regaining my composure, I replied shakily, “I don’t know which pegasi you’ve encountered, but every team we send to the surface either finds uninhabitable wasteland or gets attacked. Some-” my voice caught in my throat, but I needed to say it. “Some just disappear down here, and more return with horrifying stories.” I pointed a hoof in the general direction of the complex we’d left that morning, “Stories that I’ve seen the truth of, and that was only last night! From what we’ve been told, most ponies on the surface seem like raiders to the Enclave. Judging by the reactions a lot of our scouts have encountered, we’ve been responding accordingly.” I sighed, slowly closing the gap between myself and the mare still holding the rifle pointed at my chest. “I truly never imagined finding decent ponies beneath the clouds, but you, Chess and Bernard here took us in. I didn’t want to ruin that feeling, and was worried you’d turn on us like the rest of the surface seems to want to do.”

I was not prepared for her rage to only burn hotter. “Turn on you!” She bellowed, as I could see tears in her eyes, “You come down here, steal crops and materials as you want! You deserve any fate you get, even at a raider’s hooves!”

It's personal for her.

Her accusation and verdict hit me like a cloud-applebuck. I’d misjudged what was happening there. I felt like I’d committed a terrible wrong, without even knowing what I did. I didn’t know how to respond, the words just didn’t come. Which was fine, because it wasn’t me who addressed her.

“Grace!” Chess’ voice called from behind her, from the direction of the sheriff's office. He’d approached unnoticed during our argument, dressed in a thick jacket of a similar style to Grace’s. I wondered if he made them himself. “Grace, inside.”

“Pa! No, you know what they done!” She cried over her shoulder. The rifle wavered, but not enough to miss the killshot she had lined up.

“Grace, inside. Now.” Chess’ voice lowered, still carrying over the storm, but in a serious tone I hadn’t heard before.

“Pa…” She whined, a harsh edge of pleading in her tone.

“NOW!” Chess shouted her down, planting his hooves and projecting his voice.

With that, Grace burst into tears as she turned and galloped back to the police station. I let out a long, slow breath as the rifle followed behind her. It was still held in her telekinetic grip, but now safely pointed skyward.

As she left, I approached easy speaking distance with Chess. Bernard, having stayed by my side for the argument, met my gaze with a silent reassurance before following Grace into the building. I could only assume he intended to do what he could to explain to her on my behalf. I didn’t expect she’d hear me out in her current state. Turning back to the elder, I asked with an uncertain waver still plaguing me, “Chess, what has she seen? I don’t understand the hate she holds for us… for me. It seems deeply personal. Was it dashites-”

He held up a hoof, stopping me mid-sentence. He shook his head, closing his eyes and looking towards the ground. At that moment he looked as if the weariness of a lifetime made itself known on his shoulders. It occurred to me that he must be quite old, especially by what I understood of the average wasteland lifetime. “You’re young… so young. Yet the sins of your fathers rest upon your shoulders same as the rest of us.” He paused, seemingly deciding how to go about the wording of what he had to say. “Your ‘Grand Pegasus Enclave’ came down to the surface in force near seven years ago now.” It was a flat statement, but there was no mistaking the dead seriousness of his tone. My ears perked up.

Seven years? It can’t be…

“They caught wind through scouts, such as yourself, that the Steel Rangers had been stockpiling tech in the region. Grace, my son and I were at Trotwynd when they came down. Your people saw everypony as a combatant… In the end, what few of us were left hid in the broken stable, closing the great door to weather the attack. Not two dozen ponies were left alive… amongst the dead was my eldest son, Grace’s brother.”

“Seven years?” I asked, incredulous. “Seven years, when?”

Don’t say in two weeks. Please don’t say in two weeks. That’s… the anniversary of his death.

He looked me right in the eye. “Two weeks from today.”

I was on the verge of laughing and crying all at once. The incredulity, the fucking happenstance! I closed my eyes, pained as I managed to choke out, “Seven years ago… my father died in an operation deemed top secret by the higher ups. Mother didn’t even know…”

“The sins the father,” huh?

“I had never thought…”

“Your whole people never ‘thought’, Snap,” he replied with a hint of venom I wouldn’t have thought the old stallion still had in him. “Its not what you do. But don’t deny your heritage, that of murderers and thieves.” His voiced dropped off again, dangerous and low. “Never deny that. It's part of you.”

He then turned about, making his way back to the station. At least he didn’t leave me alone; I had my thoughts, and they were more than enough company as it was.

Quietly closing the door to the room Tailwind and I had been lent, I made my way over to where my adorable sky blue pegasus lay, still resting. I placed the battlesaddle against a wall and divested myself of the uncomfortable (and, now that I could appreciate it in the warmth of a building, smelly) Redeye barding. For that matter, I smelled like blood, sweat and the lingering hint of ozone. Not exactly a bunch of cloud roses. Off to the side of the main room I’d entered through, I’d seen Chess making another batch of broth in the attached kitchen. He hadn’t spared me a glance. Of Bernard and Grace there was no sign.

Taking care not to wake Tailwind, I sat on my haunches next to the low table beside her couch, resting my head on my forehooves. I had a lot to think about. The Enclave’s alleged all out attack on civilians and ‘Rangers, what I’d seen in the bunker… what I’d done. But all that could wait. For that moment, I just watched the gentle rise and fall of Tailwind’s chest. She was safe, and by all accounts healing faster than one could reasonably expect. I caught myself thinking of the times we’d shared, the fun ones… the hard ones too, all the shittiness of basic training that was bearable because we had eachother. They all became good memories in the end. I had just started thinking of the other participant in those same memories when she stirred, giving off a quiet groan. I got to my hooves, cantering over to wrap her in a full body hug. That particular ache in my heart would have to be addressed.

Just not right now.

She hugged me back as she meekly opened her eyes. “He… hey chief. Don’t do that again, okay?” Her voice was soft and still quite weak. I wasn’t sure if Chess still had her on anything or not, but it could have been that the healing process was taking a lot out of her. “I was so worried when you didn’t come back last night.”

“Sorry, Tail,” I replied, nuzzling her cheek lightly. “Believe me, if I could stay with you forever, I would. We took longer than expected… found some despicable ponies, those ‘Raiders’ we were briefed about… They weren’t just stories, by the way.” Pre-empting her inevitable question, I continued, “And yes, they’re quite dead.” Glancing back at my exposed wings, I sighed, “Though… Bernard and Grace now know about us being pegasi. Grace took it…” I grimaced, “Poorly.”

“Well… they did say we weren’t welcome amongst the ‘mudwalkers’ hey…” Tail coughed lightly before continuing, “Did… did you get in contact with command…?” My heart sank. I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t begin to come to terms with it myself, how was I supposed to break the news to her? All the same, I had to be honest with her.

I closed my eyes, biting back tears of frustration. “I spent all of last night trying to connect with one of the radios. There… I wasn’t even able to get an intermittent signal. There was just nothing to send the signal to. All I could pick up was the ‘DJ Pon3’ broadcast that seems to be so endemic down here.” A couple tears formed in my eyes despite my best efforts, falling from my muzzle to make small wet spots on Tailwind’s fur. “I… I think we might be stuck down here for a while, Tail.”

It took a couple seconds for all that to sink in, but I saw it in her eyes when it did. “But… that means… what about our families… my brother and dad, your mom?” She was still taking in the enormity of it all, too shocked to cry.

“We’re contaminated, Tailwind. We’d have to play our cards right just to be allowed back above the clouds.” I kissed her softly on the cheek. “But we’ve still got each other. Thats what has kept us going this long, hasn’t it?” I forced as much of a smile as I could. I did believe what I said, just… it hurt so much to admit it. Like cutting away a tangible part of the pony I was.

“Oh Chief, you always… know what to say,” She began sobbing into my shoulder, anguished at the reality of our situation. I didn’t mind... I was doing the exact same to hers by that point. Sometimes, just having a shoulder to cry on is enough to get through that much more of what the world can throw at you.

We learned that all over again that day.

Some time later I made my exit from the room, reassuring Tailwind I was just going to get us something to eat.

After quietly closing the door to our room, I cantered over to where Chess was putting the finishing touches on what appeared to be potato and canned carrot stew (hey look, carrots, my old friend). As I approached, he commented, “She should be up and about by tomorrow, heals fast that one.”

“Yeah, that she does,” I remarked wistfully before switching to my relatively monotone debriefing voice. “Your surveillance bot is transmitting again. There were Raiders.” I’m sure he saw the look in my eyes when I mentioned them, a slight waver in my voice. “Between Bernard and I we cleared them out. Though I could use some medical attention... again.”

He nodded a sad affirmation, giving a glance at my bandaged shoulder, wings and foreleg.

“But that night… we… well, I saw something on the probe.”

He stopped what he was doing mid-stir of the pot, turning to look me in the eyes. His expression was dour. “What did you see?”

I recounted as best I could, feeling a chill just trying to remember what it looked like. “Saw it first on the thermals. It looked like a pony, tall, wrapped in rags… but by the readout, it showed up as being colder than the fucking blizzard around it. I double checked the white/black hot settings ― they were working properly.”

Chess listened intently, not showing a hint of emotion.

I continued. “When the ‘bot switched to camera, whatever it was had blue… burning blue eyes that seemed to stare straight through the camera ― through me.”

Chess sighed, putting his chefs hat on the counter. “You weren't seeing things lass. That was a Storm Born. A dark malignant force that seems to follow the winter storms. They say you can’t kill them…” His eyes went deathly serious. “They’re not stories, and there’s a reason ya don’t see no ponies bunking down outside of decent shelter.”

I nodded in acknowledgement. “That would be why we don’t travel at night, in addition to the storm and all.”

“Yeah, that be the gist of ‘er, the damn things only seem to come out when Equestria’s at her coldest. If ya ever feel the air round ya turn colder than sin, hoof it to somewhere with a big fire, and do ‘er quick.”

Changing topics, I commented as I took a sniff of the delicious smelling stew, “There’s gonna be a lot of adjustment for Tailwind and I over the next while. Our check-in time ran out last night, Chess. As far as the Enclave is concerned, we’re ‘contaminated’, a threat to our very home.” I give a soft sigh, “And… could you tell Grace that, for what it’s worth… I find what my brethren ― what my father might have done…” I swallowed hard, “As evil as the raiders we put down last night.” I finished, looking him in the eye with complete honesty.

“You both have a hard road ahead of you,” he replied with a tired sigh, “I know it wasn’t you who did that, and deep down Grace does as well. Give her time, you’re both good ponies.” He gazed down into the stew, levitating a fresh batch of ingredients into the mix. Most were some form of spices that I didn’t recognize, but the wonderful mixture of smells that wafted up from his work was enough to lift my spirits all by itself. He kept talking as he worked, setting his utensils aside and covering the pot with a lid. “Alas, most folks won’t care about ya being decent, all they’ll see is a pair of wings.” He glanced up as he finished his cooking for the time being, meeting my gaze again. “Just be careful now ― the wastes don’t need more dead folk.”

“Thanks, Chess.” I replied, “I’ll pass on the info about the Storm Born when I take Tailwind her dinner.” I took a step towards the pot of stew, a twinge of pain from my injured leg reminding me of my other reason for visiting Chess. With a wince of pain, I added, “But before that, could you take a look at my leg? I got cut by a blade that seems to have a healing negation spell enchanted into it.”

Chess chuckled, “I’ll see what I can do. There might be more enchanted into that blade than just a healing inhibitor, so I’ll give you a look over.” His horn lit up, opening a drawer off to one side of the kitchen and levitating out a set of sewing tools. “I ain’t too bad with a needle and thread, neither.”

Chess’ work was immaculate. The stitches on my forehoof were of a sort that would apparently be absorbed as the wound healed, speeding the healing process as they did. Between that and his neat surgical stitchery, I felt confident hazarding a guess that it wouldn’t even leave a scar. A minor victory, but it did wonders for my emotional state.

Once Chess was done sewing me back up, he told me that the stew would still take a little while. With a bit of time on my hooves, I decided to see how Bernard was doing. Quietly making my way up the stairs to the attic, it proved to be distinctly more utilitarian than the living room. Bare wooden flooring covered that level, and the roof angled sharply upwards to a point. Windows were spaced with one facing out from each end of the house, and two more were spaced along the sloped length on each side. Each window had heavy shutters beside them, with large deadbolt-style locks that could be drawn shut. A few crates of non-perishable supplies were stacked neatly against one of the walls. Firewood was stacked against another, and litres and litres of water ― clean, pure water ― were organized in plastic yellow crates beside the wood. I found Bernard seated on his haunches facing a window overlooking much of the town, his rifle leaning against the wall.

As I stepped forward, I heard the sound of a faint, sad song in the still air of the attic. I hadn’t noticed it at first, so softly he was singing. I listened quietly, mesmerized by this side of Bernard I hadn’t seen before.

“...But since it falls unto my lot

That I should rise and you should not

I'll gently rise and I'll softly call,

Good night and joy be with you all,

Good night and joy be with you all…”

I had been intending to amiably say “hello”, and see how his talk with Grace had went, but the way he was singing… it stood out to me. It was the pain of a stallion who had lost everything, but it wasn’t with the callousness or bitterness of an old emotional wound. It was fresh enough that I could feel the pain, the frustration in his voice like a bleeding wound. Out of courtesy, and in an attempt not to surprise him I tapped a forehoof upon the wood of the attic floor.

He gave a start anyways, as if just realizing that he wasn’t alone in the attic. “Just me, Bernard,” I reassured him as I slowly made my way towards him.

“Oh, you… you heard that.” He avoided eye contact, glancing away as if ashamed that I’d heard what I had.

I cantered over and sat down beside him in a way that kept pressure off my injured leg, asking in a quiet voice, “Bernard, I know it hurts but I need to know ― for your sake. How long has it been?”

“Two weeks,” was the reply, tentative and cautious.

Losing Nosedive was- IS hard… but we all knew death was a possibility for any of us ― it goes with the job. For him, that would have come out of nowhere. Fucking right it would hurt like this, especially if he was the only one left when they killed his wife and… wait, he said the bastard TOOK his daughter. She might still be…!

My eyes widened in realization, “Oh, Bernard, she’s ― she’s close enough to catch up to, is what you’re saying!” My brain eventually pieced decision he’d made together, and I added, “You mean to go after her.”

He nodded slowly, “I need-” He started, at a bit of a loss for words at first. “I need to find her… she needs her father.”

I put a wing around his shoulders as I replied with conviction, “A filly should never have to be without her father, Bernard.”

I should know.

He looked up, meeting my gaze for the first time in the conversation. “Chess managed to find out that the Serpent was seen moving through Fort Neighson to the North. Once this storm abates, I’m going after her.” He choked out the last bit. I knew his tone ― he didn’t expect to succeed, but if he didn’t try, the knowledge that he’d left her would eventually wear him down. It would kill him as surely as if the “Serpent” had ended him along with his wife and relatives. He was resigned to what he had to do, and committed to his plan.

I surprised even myself when I blurted out, “Tailwind and I will help you.” As instinctively as I’d made the decision, determination settled in my heart, even if my head was still conflicted. If we were going to be stuck down here, we would damn well do something worthwhile. “I don’t know how much help we’ll be, but this is something we can do.” I trailed off, not exactly having had time to iron out a plan. Something about the place’s name rang a bell, but at the time I couldn’t place it.

He glanced up at me, tears glistening in his eyes. “Thank… thank you for that. It means more than you know to me… you’re both good ponies, you and Tailwind. I don’t care what the wasteland thinks of your births.”

The look in his eyes made me feel… good. Like I’d done the right thing for the first time in a while. But more than that, I felt like I had a purpose again. I didn’t know how I was going to get us back above the clouds, and while that thought was always in the back of my mind, getting Bernard’s daughter back was something tangible that could be accomplished. I’m such a straightforward pony… just having a goal ― a quest, if you will ― gave me something to work towards once the storm had passed. Freeloading off of Chess would have eventually worn out its welcome anyways. He took care of those in need ― he wasn’t running a charity, and there was nothing wrong with that. Also, as much as we appreciated the hospitality, recent events made it quite clear that our presence was causing friction, even if it might pass eventually. We were welcome to stay, but Chess’ waystation was no place to call home, as comfortable as it was.

Balancing a tray with two bowls of stew on my rump, I returned to our room. I found Tailwind with her head and forelegs draped over the side of the couch, her wings and hindlegs splayed out behind her.

"So what's the plan, Chief?" She asked, not getting up from the comfy looking position. Her eyes were still a little red from earlier. We both knew the pain was there, but what would be the point of dwelling on it? It wouldn’t make it any better. I was glad that I did, in fact, have a plan ― bare bones as it was. We both wanted to start working towards improving our situation any way we could, and it was a start.

I paraphrased Bernard's story to her as she listened intently, her expression darkening as I mentioned what happened to his wife, more so when I told her that the bastard had taken his daughter. As I finished, she looked contemplative for a short while, before finally commenting, "We're going after her, aren't we." It wasn't a question. She knew me well enough to know the decision I'd made. More importantly, she agreed.

That's my girl.

I nodded, elaborating, "Bernard was saying this 'Serpent' character would have headed through a place called ‘Fort Neighson,’ about a day and a half to the North."

Canting her head off to the left, she queried, “Fort Neighson, wasn’t that a Steel Ranger training base during the war?” She put her hoof to her chin as she thought.

I clopped a forehoof into the other as the horseshoe finally dropped. “That’s where I’d heard of it! Yeah, that one.” To continue the train of realization, the fact that we’d be walking right into a Ranger base probably wasn’t the best idea. But hey, it wasn’t like we had many other options. I hastily added, “Though I think it’s fair to say they won’t exactly be giving us a warm welcome when we get there.”

She stuck her tongue out to show her opinion of ‘them’, before changing topic to the bowls I’d still been balancing on my back, “So... what’cha got there, Chief?”

“Potato and carrot stew.” I replied, glancing back at the bowls I’d almost forgotten about. “Might not be dandelion sandwiches, but Chess made it and it smells delicious.”

With a cute pout, Tailwind replied, “But I want dandelion sandwiches… they’re nummy.”

If she’s got the energy to be snarky...

“Nummy, hmm?” I purred as I slid the tray off my back and onto the tea table that Tailwind was all but splayed beside. “Hey Tail, there’s a dandelion!”

“What? Where?!” She cried (her voice was still rather weak), making a dramatic show of looking around as much of the room as she could without changing her position, the whole process taking a solid ten seconds or so before she plopped her head back on her forehooves. She blew away a strand of mane that had fallen in front of her face before stating, unimpressed, “I don’t see no dandelions.”

With a cocky smile, I leaned forward and kissed her. She made a surprised "eep" noise, muffled by my lips, before closing her eyes and leaning into me. We took full advantage of the situation as I deepened the kiss, gently cradling her head with my good leg. Our tongues danced, and the world around us simply fell away. We weren’t on the surface, we weren’t stranded, we weren’t cold… we weren’t anything right then. The world was just her and I, and we were going to enjoy it while it lasted. We broke away when we were both in desperate need for air.

Catching her breath for a moment, Tailwind slowly licked all the way around her lips before commenting breathlessly, “Oh… those dandelions.”

Both of her right legs were still encased in the braces, making it difficult for her to move around much. I used that to my advantage, releasing our embrace and slipping behind her while she was powerless to resist.

“Hey!” she called back, unable to do much more than shift her head around in response, “That’s chea- mmmmmfff!”

I’d slid my head between her thighs and given her an exploratory lick ― what I found was that she was more than willing down there, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan of pleasure. As I started swirling my tongue around in earnest, Tailwind deftly positioned her wings to press down on the back of my head, forcing my muzzle deeper into her folds. I loved every second of it, and we were just getting started.

Now, I’m sure Chess had set some sort of ground rules for her while she recovered. For that matter, given my own state at the time those probably should have applied to me as well. Judging by our experiences with the wasteland so far, I have to say I still feel a twinge of empathy for all the doctors of the who have ever tried urged their patients to “Avoid doing anything strenuous while you recover.” Hell, I should be one of the biggest proponents of that advice, being a medical pony in my own right. But right then, the solace of intimacy was the best medicine either of us could ask for. I’ve never been happier to blatantly disregard sound medical advice.

By the time we’d recovered enough to turn our appetites to Chess’ broth, it was quite cold. Even so, it was absolutely delicious. He must have used some sort of spices or something, because that simple little meal was one of the tastiest things I’d ever had the pleasure of devouring, present company excepted. Ground-grown produce definitely rose a notch in my estimation, though in hindsight living with the bland taste of cloud food your entire life could have that effect.

As cathartic as our… ahem, activities were, Tailwind really was drawing on borrowed energy reserves. As soon as she’d licked her bowl clean, she drifted off into a contented sleep. I set our dishes aside, planning to leave her to her rest. I wasn’t as tired, and there was still time in the day. I quietly made my way to the door and creeped into the living room, softly closing the door behind me. In spite of my (obviously stealthy) exit, I could feel the presence of literally every other pony in the house looking in my direction.

Slowly turning around, I was greeted by the amused looks of Chess, Grace, and Bernard as they lounged variously on some of the many pillows scattered around the room. Quietly closing the door behind me, I flashed them my best we-totally-weren’t-doing-anything smile.

Grace was the one to break the silence between us, commenting with a whimsical voice, as if she had been in deep contemplation, “I hadn’t even thought you could use wings for that.” I caught a flash of mortification on Chess’ face, suggesting that if Grace ended up liking mares, he would probably have some choice words for me.

I was caught between being ecstatic that she was no longer mad at me and embarrassed at what they most likely heard, not to mention mildly worried that Chess might have thought we were corrupting his daughter or something. I settled on flushing as red as my blue coat would go as I stammered out a reply, “Well, um… exercise definitely helps with recovery.” I nodded, certain they’d buy my logic.

Yup. Nailed it. Well, her, but… gah!

Chess’ only response was a cross look that managed convey, “You should know better than that.” He wasn’t mad, but he wasn’t exactly impressed by the feeble attempt at logic.

I sat down on one of the pillows, nice and close to the warmth of the fireplace. In an attempt to change the topic from what we’d been doing in our room, I picked a topic almost at random. “So… how much do you know about Redeye? We were briefed that they might be in the area, but not with anything like the numbers they dropped on us before we made our way here.”

Chess replied, “They have a huge outfit way south o’ here in a city called Fillydelphia. Redeye himself reactivated it, started up the old munitions factories again. He’s using it as an industrial base to equip and supply what amounts to a sizable army of slavers, raiders and talon mercenaries.”

I let out a low whistle as I muttered, “I really didn’t think Enclave intel is bad enough not to have found that out, so why didn’t we hear about this months ago…” A frown crossed my face at the implications.

Chess replied softly, obviously aware that his assessment wouldn’t be popular with me. “Y’all do know hun, ‘s just privileged info.”

I snapped at him reflexively, more out of frustration with the situation we’d found ourselves in than anything else. “Info that might have saved three lives in the past two days!”

Chess adopted a chastising tone. “Do you really think your Enclave gives a rat’s ass about you or your friends? Something about having less mouths to feed? I was under the impression that was a problem up there.”

Well, suppose I did kinda deserve that.

The anger drained from my tone, replaced with weariness. “In truth… last night they would have written us off as either MIA or contaminated. Were we to try to simply fly back, we’d be at least detained, maybe even executed in the name of preventing ‘contamination’ from the surface.” I glanced at the fire, “They might well have already issued new birth permits to replace all five of us.” I finally admitted, to myself as much as them.

Chess sighed, “I know it’s shitty, but you two will work through it. It is possible to make a life for yourselves down here amongst the dirt, and I hope you do, I really do.”

Grace had been looking at her hooves for most of the discussion, conflict written clearly upon her features. It hurts to see ponies you’d always thought of as enemies being just as equine as anypony else.

“Thanks, Chess.” I replied softly, “I needed that.”

He changed tone, I suspect hoping to bring up a happier topic. “So I hear from Bernard that you plan to help him find his daughter.”

I nodded in affirmation, though now that the moment had passed I felt a little anxious over what I’d promised to do.

Chess got to his hooves and made his way over to me, saying “You’re already doing better, I want you to know that.” He stood up on his rear legs, gently placing his hooves on either side of my head before leaning forward and placing a… well… a fatherly kiss on my forehead before dropping back to all fours. “Go to Tail, she needs you there beside her. And know that you’ll always be welcome here at my waystation.” Behind him, Grace nodded her own agreement, a determination in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

I nodded again, this time at a loss for words. I wanted to cry from the unexpected feelings he’d brought up, and from the sheer kindness he exuded all at once. Not to mention that Grace had managed to see us as separate from what our brethren had done seven years ago. Lost in thought, I made my way back to Tailwind’s side, giving the others a wave of a wing before I closed the door.

It might not have been home, but it felt so good living with those ponies for the time we did.

Two days passed without any real incident. Tailwind made a full recovery, and got to know the ponies we’d found ourselves with. Chess taught us both a lot about the wasteland ― about some of the common dangerous creatures that stalked the wastes, like the snow wolves we’d encountered previously. He even passed on some medical tricks to me, teaching me how to stitch in a little more detail than I had previously known. At one point, I sat down and had a long chat with Grace, talking with her about what had happened. It ended with tears in both our parts when we were forced to see that we’d both lost ponies that day years ago, but I like to think we grew just a little bit closer for the knowledge.

All too soon, one morning I blinked my eyes open and realized I heard nothing. Not a bad sort of nothing, but rather the distinct lack of howling winds immediately on the other side of our room’s wall. The storm had passed, and we’d be leaving soon.

Rolling out of bed, I looked around, finding it peculiar that Tailwind managed to wake up before me. She was nowhere to be seen, and her stuff was conspicuously absent from our room. Finding something to be just a bit off, I pulled on the (no longer smelly) Redeye barding and gathered the small amount of kit that had yet to be packed and got my saddlebags settled.

Entering the common room, Chess was the only pony there. He had some sort of hot beverage held in the grey aura of his magic, and he was staring into the fireplace.

Cantering over and taking a seat next to him, I remarked, “Storm’s cleared up, we’ll be heading out soon. I take it you’ll be holding down the fort here.”

Chess sighed, “Yeah, I am. I’ve got too many miles on me to do much else.” He glanced over at his drink, giving it a soft stir with a levitated spoon.

There was a melancholy air about him, and I wanted to cheer him up, even if just a bit. “For what its worth, I’m glad you and your daughter were the first ponies we met down here. Both Tail and I owe you our lives, and so much more that we can never repay.”

He let out a hollow laugh as he took a sip of his beverage. I smelled chocolate, and the wondrous scent brought back memories of the last couple days. “Honey, you don’t know how many ponies I’ve seen now walk through here. Most die, some wish they did. The one thing that stands true is I’ve never seen none of ‘em again…”

“Well, in all likelihood we’ll continue the trend one way or another,” I commented with a whimsical smile, as something that felt almost like hope buoyed my spirits. It might have been just the storm having lifted, but I had a feeling… “Just in case, I’ll see you around, you old stallion.” I cantered over and hugged him, holding him with my forehooves and wrapping him with my wings.

He fully embraced me back, his hot chocolate forgotten and placed by his side. There were tears running down his cheeks as he replied, “Please have it be the latter,” he whispered into the crook of my shoulder. Releasing me from his hooves, he dug into a small satchel that had been sitting by his side, levitating out a necklace. On it was a depiction of the sun intertwined with the moon, worked to a brilliant finish.

I took it in my hooves, overawed that he’d give me what was clearly a treasured piece of jewelry. The issue though, was that it depicted the ‘goddesses’ that Chess had told me many of the wastelanders referred to the Princesses as. I started to voice an apology, that it wasn’t a belief I shared. “Chess, you know I don’t-”

He interrupted me with a hoof softly touched to my lips as he replied with a small smile. “But I do.”

His words had made me think, and still do in quiet moments. Simple words, but with such a strength of belief behind them. I wouldn’t wear it for them ― but I could wear it for him. Without further comment I carefully donned the necklace, flushing my mane out from under it. Taking a few moments to gaze at it, I finally stated, “It’s beautiful, Chess.” I glanced up at him. “Make sure to watch out for any Redeye movements now that the storm is down…” Seeing his raised eyebrow, I quickly added, slightly abashed, “Not that you need me to remind you.”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout me lass, I’m too damn old for some two bit pretty pony like him to put me down. Now go out there and do what you need to do.” He made a shooing motion with his hooves. He added almost as an afterthought, “They’re waiting for you.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice not to crack. Turned out, I couldn’t help it. With a hoof on the door, I called back, “We’ll see you again, Chess!”

I turned the knob, stepping out into the snow.

And was promptly pegged in the side of the head with a snowball.

I dove to the left, away from the direction of impact as I heard the distinct voice of Grace, more cheerful than I’d ever heard, “Too slow, Snap!” I rapidly scraped together a snowball of my own, scanning for a target along the grey buildings and snow covered mounds.

...Only to be rewarded with another snowball hit, this time from the opposite direction. I heard Bernard’s voice call out, “We’ve got her Grace!”

I laughed for the first time in days as I took to the skies, hovering a sporting fifteen or so feet in the air, snowball in hoof. I came right upon a very much surprised Bernard on the station roof, desperately readying another snowball.

With a victorious grin, I lined him up, pulled back my hoof and threw, hitting him square in the chest as he ran to take cover, “Oww, that’s a good hoof ya got there girl!”

Scraping along the roof, I pulled together enough loose snow to form another snowball as I spotted Grace crouched down in a makeshift snow bunker beside a long overturned carriage as she called, “Come and get me missy!”

I flew high, dodging most of her initial volley of snowballs, the assisted speed of unicorn magic propelling them as I dove to fire, catching a pair of snowballs to my side in the process. I kept up a routine of dive, scoop, fire, repeat, leaving a steady cadence of snowballs hitting her ‘fort’ from all angles. All the while, she kept up her own steady stream of snowballs, packed and launched with magic at an incredible rate. Every now and then I would score a hit, but it rapidly became clear that she was the winner of this duel.

At the apex of one particular attack, I heard a howling squeal from above and behind as Tailwind dove hard through the sky, forehooves outstretched as she called out, “Look, dandelions!”

“Death from above!” I shouted, snap turning just in time to turn her dive bomb into more of a mid-air grapple. we rocketed towards the ground, though I quickly gained the upper hoof, controlling our descent if only a little.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Tailwind groused. Then she started tickling me with her pinion feathers instead of flapping, leaving me a giggling, flailing, protesting mess that was no longer interested in attempting to control our descent. “Ahha, I am victor-” Tailwind cheered, but was cut off as we hit a snow bank.

A snow bank that happened to be Grace’s fort. The impact coated all three of us in a thick layer of fluffy snow that had, until recently, resembled an old-style keep with room for a mare behind the short walls. Grace’s head popped out of the snow at about the same time as I did. She made a face, “You ruined my fort!”

Tailwind’s… well, tail end was the only part of her visible above the snow, but we could make out what sounded kinda like a call of “Wooooooorth!” from beneath the snow.

I called out to Bernard as he made his way down from the roof, carefully picking his footing as he descended what I figured was a fire escape. “Ready to go, Bernard?”

“Yeah, I’ve been ready for a while now.” He replied, jumping the last couple feet to the snow.

Tailwind extricated herself from the snow, hovering about ten feet above the rest of us as she asked, “So we’re headed to this ‘Fort Neighson’, right?”

Grace piped up while trotting over, “Rangers still control that place, they’re a nice enough lot though. Not quite like their southern cousins.” She paused, considering. “But yeah, don’t really expect them to like seeing feathers.”

“Speaking of which… Grace, I know it can’t have been easy living with a pair of pegasi after what our race did to your family. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your hospitality.” I replied, “I do hope to see you and your father again some day.”

She smiled, “No, you’re good folks, I acted unjustly towards y’all. Just don’t get hurt now okay?”

I teared up just a little. Her capacity for forgiveness continued to amaze me. “Will do, keep the old pony company!” The prospect of saying goodbye to the first decent ponies we’d met down here got the better of me as I swept her up in a wing hug.

She returned the embrace fully, “I’ll do that…”

Tailwind swooped down to join in the hug, wrapping her wings around both of us, “There’s no way we’ll be able to repay you for your kindness, Grace.”

After a few moments, Grace broke from the hug, “Alrighty then y’all best be goin, go on now.” She seemed to be putting on a strong face, seeing us go. The abruptness of our departure probably had something to do with that.

“We’ll meet again, Grace." I reassured her with a smile, "I’m sure of it.”

As we began to make our way North, I glanced back towards the dwindling waystation, seeing Grace waving at us until we were out of sight.

We were on the move again.

With the storm’s end, reasonable weather descended upon the mountains. That is to say, it stopped snowing for once, and we were able to clearly see the full extent of the cloud cover. The only indication that Celestia still existed in the sky was a slightly brighter patch among the thick, grey clouds. Cynicism aside, the change was more than welcome. Having been used to the cold of high altitudes, I actually felt comfortably warm within the winter wraps, far preferable to literally needing them just to not freeze to death.

I was hovering along a couple dozen meters above the ground, thoroughly enjoying being able to fly freely again ― without every wingbeat being a windswept nightmare. For her part, Tailwind was doing a series of whimsical dives, rolls, jukes and climbs in what was, for her, a means to work out her boredom at being confined to walking speed. In Bernard’s defence, he was trotting at what just about any ground-bound pony would consider a reasonable clip ― the issue was that, were Tailwind and I not bound to him, we could have probably reached Neighson in about an hour and a half at flying speed. That said, they would also shoot us out of the sky when we didn’t have a dirtpony to vouch for us, so with Bernard we stayed, and kept any comment on our rate of advance to ourselves.

We were approaching a bend not far from the turnoff to the bunker complex when I caught sight of a most peculiar couple headed towards us, currently out of sight from Bernard around the corner. I only managed to catch sight of them from my high vantage point, and they didn’t seem to notice Tailwind or myself.

The larger… thing seemed to be some form of colossal, two-headed mutant, Its skin was a mottled, sickly pink and tan, and it was easily thrice the size of a pony. One of its heads gazed more or less straight ahead, while the other seemed to be in a permanent state of chewing on apparently nothing at all. Neither head seemed to look at anything in particular. Across their collective back, they were loaded down with all sorts of assorted gear, from cooking supplies to tools, sleeping rolls, to- was that a rifle haphazardly webbed into place? Suffice to say, they took the role of pack beast to heart.

Were I to describe the pony accompanying them (it?) in a single word, I’d have to go with “utilitarian.” He seemed to be a lot closer to what I imagined the average wasteland pony to look. His barding seemed to consist of the remnants of a half dozen outfits, though for all that I couldn’t say it actually looked out of place. It served the purpose of keeping warm ― the lining seemed to be a collection of thicker materials, even incorporating some sort of fur, while the outer was largely coated in pockets. And when I say “coated in pockets,” for reference, my scout barding has enough pockets to store virtually all of the little pieces of gear I’d need for a scouting operation, and his easily put that to shame with raw carrying capacity.

I swooped down, landing near Bernard’s side. He startled, obviously not used to me doing that. “We’ve got company, Bernard. Some mutant sorta thing with a pony for a companion, headed this way.”

He gave a skeptical frown. “‘Mutant sorta thing,’” he parroted, “Can’t say I follow.”

“Two headed, big, carrying a whole ton of gear on its back.” I replied, not knowing what more he was looking for. “Seemed to me like it was on its last legs, didn’t have much of its coat or mane left.”

He smirked back at me, seeming to find some humour in my confusion. He replied, “Ahh,” in an infuriating expression that said, I know what you’re talking about, but you’ll learn soon enough.

As we dithered, the pair eventually did round the corner. Once they saw us - and they had to have seen us, we were standing right in the middle of the road - the creature remained apathetic. The pony however, gave a bit of a start. He nervously glanced behind him, as if looking for the jaws of a trap that simply wasn’t there. He seemed to debate continuing or turning back the way he’d come, but eventually continued in our direction.

I glanced over at Bernard to gauge his reaction to the unusual pair, shamelessly deferring to his superior knowledge of wasteland things. He glanced up, seeming to brighten up a bit once he got a good look at the pair; I gathered that he didn’t consider whatever-it-was a threat. Still, I had to ask. “Hey Bernard… what is that?”

He chuckled, “That isn’t a ‘that.’ She is a brahmin, and her companion is a trader, like I… was.” He sighed at his own admittance, before adding, “At any rate, we should be able to barter for some supplies, depending on what they’ve got at the moment.”

I glanced back, giving a more appraising look over of the two headed towards us. I didn’t ask, but I kind of wanted to know how it was that he knew just from a glance… I suppose that falls under the list of things I still need to get used to down here.

As I mulled over what Bernard had said, the merchant couple continued their steady trek towards us, eventually coming to a halt about a dozen meters away. The earth pony appraised Tailwind and I with an odd look and a frown, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of us.

Bernard was the one to call out after the silence between our two groups started to stretch into awkwardness, “Hello friend, are you two open for business?”

Seemingly glad to be addressed by another wastelander, the merchant brightened up, “Always, if you’ve got the goods or caps to spend.”

Bernard nodded, making his way towards the odd pair. “We’re mostly looking for some food for the road, maybe some ammo if you’ve got it.”

The merchant gave a soft tip of his silly-looking hat, before turning to start unlatching several pockets on one of the massive bags that covered most of the brahmin’s back. “Lots of people lookin’ for food right about now, it ain’t gonna be cheap.”

Bernard gave a dismissive wave of his hoof, “We aren’t looking for much. Enough for a couple meals, for three.” The merchant had halted his rummaging through the pack, seemingly holding something beneath the layers of cloth and leather. Bernard continued, his voice taking a slightly more serious edge to it, “We can pay, no worries there.”

The merchant gave off a brittle laugh, shifting his hoof around. He seemed to push something back into the pack, before reaching in at a different angle and pulling out a few small, individually wrapped rations. “Sorry mate, just being cautious. You know how it is.”

Bernard nodded, “Yeah, I know.” He took the wolf bone helmet out of his saddlebags, followed by some of the odds and ends that we’d intended to sell from the bunker, including a small bag of what appeared to be bottlecaps ― you know, the kind that one would get from an ordinary Sparkle~Cola bottle and the like. I was perplexed, but didn’t pipe up. I decided to ask later.

Then they started talking. Just simple conversation, but there was something there that I couldn’t quite place ― a feeling that more than just a conversation was taking place in front of me. The merchant started, “So, two pegasi and an earth pony headed North, huh? Sounds like quite the story there.”

“Nothing too special, I’m afraid.” Bernard replied, “Just going to meet up with an old friend.”

“I see, I see,” the merchant replied, clearly unconvinced. “Well, not too many folk headed North this time of year. If anything, most of us that are on the move are headed South.” He gave the brahmin an affectionate stroke to its- her flank, “We should know, we’ve seen only a couple with tails pointed South in the last little while, I might be able to guide you in the right direction…” He lead off with a sly smile that was meant to claim he knew more than he was letting on. For the right price was left unsaid.

Bernard shook his head slowly, without breaking eye contact. He wasn’t falling for it. “No, I don’t think you’d be able to help with this one, friend. Don’t worry about us, I expect we’ll find him sooner or later.”

“A shame,” the merchant replied, willing to go for one more gambit. “Well, if y’all give me your names, I might be able to give him a heads up that you’re coming. You know, if I see ‘im.”

“I’d much prefer if it were a surprise visit, actually.” Again, Bernard turned him down, a chiding tone to his voice, as if the merchant had just made a faux pas I wasn’t aware of. “You don’t need to know our names, just as we don’t need to know yours.”

The merchant looked at him for a while. I could practically hear the gears turning in that brain of his, trying to puzzle out our rather unusual group’s intent. After a few seconds he came up dry. “Fair enough, lets get down to business then.”

I looked on the ensuing exchange wide-eyed with interest. Info bantering out of the way, they started talking ‘relative values’ and such of the various items we had to offer. After a few back-and-forth rounds of bartering, they finally settled on an exchange. We didn’t manage to get any ammo ― he didn’t have any spark cells, nor did he have the right caliber for Bernard’s rifle, but despite that we still got enough food for the trip to Neighsson, we figured... and our packs were a little lighter for it.

Once items had changed hooves, the merchant gave a soft tip of his hat. In what I suppose was a means of wishing us well, he commented, “Celestia guide your hooves and Luna keep you safe.”

I gave a soft snort of laughter at that. I respected Chess’ views, but that merchant was just so up front with his… religiosity that I just had to laugh, I couldn’t help myself.

He turned on me, evidently not caring how he was perceived now that business was over with. “What the buck do you know, pegasus?” He asked. “You’re one of the ones keeping them from us!”

“Oh, no worries there. We keep the sun and moon above the clouds.” I countered with a smooth tone, not letting the ridiculously dressed pony get to me. “The princesses are long gone, friend.”

“Lies!” He spat back. “The goddesses are alive, and watching over us all!”

I’d gotten under his skin, just a bit. That was enough for me, and I fixed him with a smug, patronizing look. “Whatever you say.”

He scowled at me, but in lieu of a response he grabbed the brahmin’s bridle, which protested with a muted grunt from the more coherent-looking head as he pulled it along, headed South at a fast clip. He didn’t look back.

Bernard gave a soft sigh as he finished stowing the food we’d acquired. Tailwind was surprised by the exchange, but didn’t comment. I remained in that smug mood for the next while as we moved on. In hindsight, I’d completely forgot to ask about the anomaly that was “caps.”

I stayed that way until we ran into a slight hitch to our route plan.

“So, do we know which way we go to get to Neighson?” Tailwind asked all of a sudden, swooping down from where she had been flying to hover above the fork in the path in front of us. I hadn’t even noticed we were approaching it, with how distracted I was.

We’d continued maybe half an hour past the turnoff to the bunker complex Bernard and I had cleared previously, when the path simply split into two. No roadsigns, nothing.

“None at all actually, tried to steer clear of goin’ any more North than I had to, on account of the weather.” Bernard replied with deadpan sincerity as he came to a halt below and beside us.

“Wait, we don’t have a map?” I asked, shocked that such a basic item had been overlooked.

“Anope,” Bernard stated.

I shot him what I hoped was an unimpressed look. “All right Tail, lets take a look see.” I flew up to get a higher vantage point, trying to get a grasp of the local landmarks. All around the mountain range extended, many of the taller peaks piercing the cloud layer, and despite how huge they were, when you were that unfamiliar with the area, one giant rock formation often looked like any other.

The right-hoof path lazily progressed up the side of the same mountain the bunker complex was built into, seemingly coming to a plateau. The other path forked down towards a valley between the series of mountains, quickly obscured from our view by the cliff face it ran beside.

Tailwind let out a soft whinny of irritation as she hovered beside me, “Augh, why can’t they set up… I dunno, road signs; ‘Hey look, food’s thattaway!’ or something.” She slumped, “So what do you think, Chief?”

I put a hoof to my chin, “Well, if we end up having to scavenge, the valley path would probably be the better choice. We’ve only got another couple days worth of rations.” Turning to look up at the plateau I continued, “On the other hoof, depending on how far that plateau goes, we might get a chance to get a commanding view into the valley.”

Tailwind glanced down at the thick layer of snow blanketing the landscape before piping up, “I don’t see what we could forage, not like much grows down here.”

“True…” I trailed off. I realized rather quickly that I was not exactly the most knowledgeable in terms of ground-based navigation. I mean, come on - from the height I would typically look down on it all, it would be in relief. No need to worry about which route to take when we could just fly elsewhere if we got lost. Almost arbitrarily, I finally decided on the route that would give us the most chance of getting a good look at the terrain that lay before us, even if it was the wrong way. It was instinctive, and that proved to be rather hard to kick. “It looks like just under three klicks to the plateau. I’m in favour of that route.”

“Alrighty,” She replied whimsically, “It’s your call Chief.”

I gently dove back down to Bernard’s side as Tailwind stayed up for a little longer before making her own descent.

“See anything interesting?” He asked, real curiosity at what we’d seen evident in his voice.

“So, that one,” I pointed with a forehoof to the left path, “winds down towards the valley, while the other continues to climb before leveling off on a plateau three or so kilometers away. I’m in favour of the plateau, gives us a better chance of seeing what’s ahead of us before it gets here. Not to mention a commanding view of the area.”

Bernard put a hoof to his muzzle in thought, before concluding “If it’s a plateau there might be another waystation, possibly a roof and maybe even some salvage.”

I nodded in agreement as we started off towards the plateau. Tailwind continued floating around in a loose orbit of Bernard’s progress, swerving seemingly at random and generally keeping herself entertained. The path remained wide and more or less straight, leading me to conclude it was once intended for heavy hoof traffic. That would be ages ago, however. It didn’t seem to have been used by more than a handful of ponies at any given time within the last while, as there weren’t any hoofprints in the loose snow.

As we crested up onto the plateau, we found that it started to dig into the cliffside for about fifty meters, and was absolutely strewn with twisted wrecks of what had once been sky wagons. We kept our distance from most, with Tailwind halfheartedly looking through a few before she went very pale as she looked into a certain carriage that had fallen on its side. She didn’t look into any of the other ruined fliers after that.

Up ahead, there was a large grey building built into the far side of the cliff. It was rugged, grey, and despite being three stories tall, gave off the impression that the entire building was more or less a bunker. There were banks of windows along the walls facing us, though I would have been shocked if they weren’t armoured glass - I couldn’t see one broken window in the entire structure, a distinct oddity. Despite the general formidableness of the structure, the vaulted set of double doors in the entryway were cracked open, barely wide enough for a pony to fit through. The interior was dark, but the prospect of seeing inside played wonders with my imagination.

“Hey Bernard, what do you make of that?” I queried as we continued at a leisurely pace towards the structure.

“Looks like Stable-Tec construction to me,” he remarked dryly.

“So… that would be our best bet for salvage, or maybe a roof over our heads? I asked, hastily adding, “Or raiders, but I don’t see any… decorations.” I cringed at the mental image, accurate or not.

Tailwind swooped down, landing beside Bernard. “Does that mean there’s a stable in there? That’s what they did, right?”

He chuckled, “Well, yes and no. Stable-Tec also had other projects they worked on, and some co-ordinated efforts with the ministries every so often.” A few moments later, he added as an afterthought, “Or so go the stories, anyways.”

Tailwind gazed up at the building, wonder in her eyes at the thought of all the potential technological marvels inside, just waiting for her to get her hooves on. “Huh,” was her only response.

“It’s mighty impressive. Seems kinda… dead, I suppose.” I glanced at what I could see of the reinforced windows, noting a complete lack of movement.

As we entered, we were greeted with a wave of dank, old air. Considering the doors had been open for some time at least, the lack of circulation in the building was disconcerting. Snow had piled up on the inside of the threshold. The main plaza consisted of a long hallway, extending about a hundred meters by thirty. Along the length were columns every ten or so meters, holding up a balcony that encircled the third floor. There were many doors on both sides of the hallway, but none caught my interest quite like the one at the very end.

Two huge oaken doors, large enough for at least six ponies to comfortably stand abreast, spanned an arched doorway. They had intricate designs etched in what seemed to have been silver throughout the wood. Considering the utilitarian design of the rest of the building, the vibrancy of that door resonated with me. If I’d had to guess, I would have placed a Stable entrance right behind there. Beside the monumental door sat a reception desk with a solitary terminal resting upon it, the green glow of its screen reflecting upon the back wall.

I glanced at Tailwind, already anticipating that she would want into that terminal. My guess was confirmed, as she seemed to be jittering, prancing quietly on the spot and biting her lower lip, staring intently at the terminal.

Well, if thats how she’s gonna be I’ll do security.

Sweeping the corners of the hallway we’d entered with practiced motions, I swept inwards, keeping low and watching for movement or anything out of place. Anything my eyes swept over, the reticle of my TFD followed, as did the tied-in shotguns on my battlesaddle. They felt a little different than I was used to, but weren’t overly heavy. I’d been assured by Bernard that I’d figure them out pretty quick.

I’ll have to, considering I’ve got just shy of a couple dozen shots.

Aside from odds and ends that seemed to have been casually dropped as many as hundreds of years ago coating the floor, nothing caught my gaze. I kept flicking my eyes around regardless. I couldn’t see anything, but there was a feeling of being watched that made the mane on the back of my neck stand on end.

I motioned Tailwind to follow me as I escorted her to the terminal, taking a route that stuck to the right side of the room, using the pillars for cover. As I did, I continued looking all the places I was sure she wasn’t ― that is to say, everywhere that wasn’t the terminal itself. I whispered back to her, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Tail. I’ll get you into that terminal, but it feels like we’re being watched.”

Functionally oblivious, she commented near my right ear, “Mmm, I wonder what’s in there… weapons plans? Ooooh, is it secrets? Ohhh, I wanna see!” She was prancing from her left to right sets of hooves behind me. I kept up the steady but careful pace forwards, despite her enthusiasm.

Bernard kept close behind, pocketing some of the semi-useful bits of junk we happened across. He had a pistol’s mouth bit clenched in his teeth, the rifle slung across his shoulders.

Not like we'll get much of a chance to use it if we get jumped.

As we reached the reception desk, I hoofed a small pile of bits into my saddlebags as Tailwind flew onwards to the terminal. I knew they weren’t worth as much as I hoped, but they were worth something, at least. The rapid tapping of keys greeted my ears. As I kept watch towards the rest of the building, I heard Bernard stop behind Tailwind, presumably watching over her shoulder as she typed.

Engrossed as they were with the terminal, I was the only one to spot a shape move in one of the balcony doorways, leading further into the building. It was moving fast ― very fast ― but the only sound in the eerie quiet was that of the tapping of keys.

I called out only as loud as I needed to for the other two to hear me, “Movement, balcony level! There’s definitely something here." I swept my targeting reticle across the balcony, too slow to catch a solid glimpse of what it was. It left me feeling cold.

Bernard stepped up beside Tailwind, scanning across the balcony with his pistol, a serious look upon his face.

“What’ve we got on that terminal so far?” I queried, the firing bit of my battlesaddle deployed just off from my lips.

She commented, still sounding like she was perfectly happy being lost in discovering the forgotten secrets of a random terminal. “Shipping manifest, useless… worker schedules, tour and lodging prices… there’s an encrypted layer here, I’m trying to get through it now.”

Bernard piped up, seeing nothing on the balcony, “What did ‘ya see, was it equine, or…?”

“Just a flash of movement going deeper into the building along the balcony, moving fast.” I replied.

Right as I was considering leaving the building to more adventurous souls, Tailwind squee’d, “Ooooh! I’m in!” Switching to a tone that I knew to be her summarizing as she scrolled through whatever she’d found, she continued, “These are residence logs for a Stable 247, its’ status is still active. According to this nearly 400 ponies went underground here when the bombs fell. Apparently it had a fully stocked armory, complete with high explosives… it also says that the door opened five days ago, closing shortly after. It shows this cycle as having happened every couple years at around this time, on a fairly regular basis.”

Bernard commented, “They could be doing periodic sampling of the surface… but the radiation levels have been habitable for generations.” He put a hoof to his chin, “...and even longer this far north. There weren’t many balefire bombs to land around here. Neighson was one of the few populated areas, and it wasn’t even hit.”

“Maybe…” Tailwind wore a look as if she was willing the terminal to give up the secrets it was (obviously) withholding from her.

“In a Stable designed to save ponies from the apocalypse they gave them high explosive weapons? I guess Stable-Tec wasn’t as optimistic about how the world would end up after the bombs fell as I might have thought.” I wore a thoughtful expression as I mulled that over. “Maybe they started having population growth every now and then? It would be pretty easy if they didn’t manage to regulate their populace like the Enclave has.” I thought back to the bunker complex, and the poor mare with the pipbuck on her leg.

Damn it, she might have lived here… Those bastards.

Tailwind gasped at what she no doubt saw as callousness. “What?! Thats horrible, how could anypony do that to their own friends and family? It has to be something else, like a garbage dump… or something?” She sounded hopeful, like she desperately wanted me to be wrong.

Bernard replied, “Not likely. From what I’ve seen of a gutted Stable or two, they recycle literally everything. They were designed to last generations down there, after all.”

I wished I was wrong, for Tailwind’s sake if nothing else. “Considering they would only have their internal store of replacement parts, something in the recycling system could have broken… started working less effectively… maybe even something like a water talisman. Any of those would have required teams to go out to forage for a new one.”

From her tone, I could tell Tailwind was frowning, “I don’t know… hey, look at this! There’s a building map here. It looks like this place had its own security detachment, complete with its own arms room!”

Bernard commented, “Well that’s a stroke of luck. How deep into the facility is it? Can you access it from here?”

My eyes widened.

They might have energy weapons! Ammo!

“Is there a manifest?” I probably betrayed my desperate interest in my tone, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t even used them yet, and the notion of being forced to use conventional weapons was grating on me.

She replied, “No and no, but its on the third floor. At the south-eastern corner.”

Third floor?

I spared a glance towards Bernard, who had apparently had the same thought I did. I shook my head preemptively, “No way am I trying to lift you three whole stories, Bernard. Tail, any chance you could find us a set of… stairs?” The disgust in my voice as I mentioned the dirtpony necessity must have been rather evident, but I didn’t particularly care.

He was heavy!

“For what its worth, I’m not entirely comfortable being flown.” Bernard commented, sounding mildly put off at my assumption.

“Hmm,” Tailwind tapped a few more keys, “There! I’ve uploaded the map to my TFD. The closest staircase is at the far side of the building,” She gestured off towards what my own TFD’s compass told me was the north-east corner of the building.

As Tailwind worked, Bernard queried with a curious expression, “Your TFD’s… those are the eyepieces you both have?”

“It’s Enclave tech." I replied, "Kind of like a pared down version of what I’ve been led to believe pipbucks do, minus the SATS and EFS.” As I said it, the summary left a sour taste.

Why does Stable-Tec have the best stuff? Oh right, because we put that in the magically powered armour and let the recce troops tough it out. Ech, I’d be more angry if we didn’t get other cool stuff, like night vision goggles.

Tailwind elaborated, “Yup, it can give all kinds of visual cues from maps to compass bearings, even advanced zoom and voice-to-text between other TFD’s! They’re great!” She reared up on her hind legs and clopped her forehooves together to punctuate her excitement.

“Times like this I almost wish I was a piece of technology,” I mumbled whimsically, giving a soft sigh before continuing, “Speaking of which, could you upload that map to my eyepiece while you’re poking about in there?”

Tailwind pressed a button and I saw a loading bar appear in the corner of my vision, as Tailwind continued to speak, “Unfortunately, they won’t exactly work for you, Bernard. You see, the neural optic connector incorporates cloud tech, meaning only pegasi and griffons can actually uplink to it properly. To you it might as well be half a set of sunglasses.”

Bernard’s disappointment was palpable, but he said nothing.

Tailwind powered up her battlesaddle-mounted laser rifle, now in working condition thanks to some spare parts from Chess. She made a dramatic show of glancing back over her shoulder as she queried, “So, we ready to go chase some big scary shadows running around, hmm?”

Double checking the load on my shotguns, I consulted the newly added map of the building that my TFD was now displaying, before pointing dramatically towards the doors we’d need to take, “Onwards! Our first conquest shall be the terrifying stairs, followed by… shadows.” The tone of my otherwise grandiose statement dipped a little at the end. It still irked me that whatever-it-was remained out there.

Bernard nodded, snickering at the speech. Tailwind made like she had an air-trumpet with her hooves before making trumpet-like noises to sound her assent to the plan.

I led the way as Tailwind took up the rear guard position as we wound our way through the tight grey corridors, passing many closed or damaged doors. I caught myself wondering how ponies could maintain their sanity in conditions like this… it had to be something similar down in the Stable.

How does one deal with all they grey? They've gotta have murals or something.

At any rate, we eventually got to the staircase that lead to the second floor. I still felt the ominous presence in the building, regardless of the lack of solid proof of its existence. We continued through the floor, the map guiding us towards another staircase.

“This place is beginning to give me the creeps…” Bernard commented as we worked our way through the building.

“I used to say the same about the entire wasteland, Bernard.” I replied without taking my gaze from the corridor ahead of us, “That was last week.”

“I think you’re both paranoid.” Tailwind piped up from the back, “There’s nothing here but dust and memories.”

“From what I’ve seen and heard, rare is it just dust and memories that inhabit old ruins like this.” Bernard replied ominously, “Hopefully it isn’t ghouls.”

“Ghouls?” I snarked, “You believe in those down here?”

“Not believe. I’ve seen ‘em. The good ones still have their sanity intact, but the bad ones… the ferals… they are most certainly real, and very deadly. Especially in packs.”

We came upon a locked blast door blocking our path. Tailwind gave a disgusted grimace when she found the terminal connected to it to be locked, requiring an “authorized” pony’s retinal scan to open. Pretty much all eligible ponies had to be dead by then. We backtracked, finding an adjoining office with a set of doors on the opposite side. A quick reference to the map on my TFD told me we should be able to get back on track through there, though a nagging thought in the back of my mind was leary of investigating the building too far. There was still something off about the whole thing.

The room was full of cubicles. A desk, a terminal and a chair were present at most, and almost all of them were impeccably tidy. Well, tidy before two hundred years of neglect had exacted their toll. The desiccated remains of papers were stacked neatly, chairs were pushed in, and every terminal was powered down and, I would hazard a guess, individually code-locked. Bulletins were still tacked on to notice boards, too faded to read. It was the sort of tidy one would leave a space when they knew they would never visit it again, but had some time to settle their affairs.

All except for one.

Off in a far corner, one cubicle was illuminated by the faint green glow of an active terminal. Tailwind’s gasp of delight was audible, and I had to physically restrain her from going for it with an outstretched wing. I didn’t comment, and she knew why it had to be that way, simply huffing and going back to the rearguard. I carefully led us through the maze of Stable-Tec’s corporate side. Considering the overall neatness of the place, some form of twisted wasteland karma practically dictated that the one exception would be horrifying in some way. I wasn’t disappointed.

The cubicle in question was set up against a wall, and the skeletal corpse of an earth pony was reclined against it. A pistol had fallen from its hooves, now laying upon the floor. It was empty, with the bolt locked back. A single casing had come to rest a ways away on the floor, and a faded bloodstain stemmed from the hole in the corpse’s head, ruining the grey wallpaper.

Well, I had thought it needed a mural. Fucking figures.

The desk had a series of grey scuffs upon its surface, where a pony would typically rest their hooves while seated on the chair provided. Once I was reasonably sure the room as a whole was clear, I set Tailwind loose. Flying into the chair, she almost seemed put out when she discovered that the terminal was still logged in. With only one way any assailants could have come at us, I felt safe letting Bernard watch our backs as I read over her shoulder.

DAY 01

I was late.

By Celestia and Luna, I was late to work on the only day it mattered.

Today, we saw balefire destroy Equestria. There must have been hundreds of warheads, they blotted out the sky itself! Cloudsdale was the first to go, that was the one we all actually saw. It was followed by Fillydephia, Manehattan, Ponyville… Canterlot. I’d gotten the alert on my pipbuck… I’d thought it was another damned drill. I showed up half an hour late, and they’d already closed the Stable door. The thing is, I can’t even say I blame them. Just... what do I do with the ponies who have taken refuge with me?

I suppose I can open up the cafeteria to the ponies here. The food would go bad otherwise, right? The Stable was stocked separately from the building itself, which is why there’s still food in the first place. I guess we kinda lucked out, despite everything.

DAY 03

It rained today.

I thought a lot of ponies had taken shelter here on the first day, but they were nothing compared to the droves that tried to get in once the rain started falling. Thick, rainbow coloured droplets fell from the sky. A mare had been looking up when they started, pointing it out to me. We both got wet, but she got some in her eyes. She’s blind now, and she hasn’t stopped shivering no matter how many blankets we wrap around her. I don’t know why, but my coat feels itchy, all over.

We let quite a few of the nearby villagers inside ― probably more than we should have as it is, considering our food situation ― but when the refugees in skywagons started arriving, we were forced to close the doors. I can still hear their screams as they were trapped in the rain.

We’ve got our own problems in here. That mare who was blinded? Virtually all of the ponies who made it in out of the rain have it worse now. Ponies’ coats are literally rotting off of their bodies! We do not have the medical staff for this. An attractive nurse named Candy Coat, from the waystation down the road, has been helping me run things when she isn’t doing what she can for the injured. I wish I had ten more like her.

Now if only I could get rid of this damn itch that I can’t seem to scratch.

DAY 05

Today one of the villagers died. Virtually all of his coat had rotted away, while he was still alive. The skin had simply sloughed off his body in patches and his mane had fallen out in matted clumps. Inexplicably, he’d lived as long as he had, before he finally breathed what we thought was his last.

When Candy went to check the body, it leaned up and… and it tore her throat out. If that wasn’t enough, it started eating her while we bucking watched!

We subdued whatever it was, but if that’s what awaits those of us who are showing signs already… It worries me. I scratched at an itch today and part of my cutiemark just flaked off down to the muscle of my flank. Which wasn’t half as horrifying as the fact that it didn’t hurt - it felt good, like scratching part of the Celestia damned itch I feel beneath my skin.

Help me.

DAY 10

They left me.

After the dead started to outnumber the living in this hellhole, we had discovered that the “ghouls” kept away from the chamber leading up to the Stable door. Must be some remnant of their former selves thinking they weren’t supposed to be allowed there, or something. Fuck, I don’t know. They kicked me out when they realized I was becoming one of “them.” It’ll only be so long before their pitiful store of food runs out, then they’ll be sorry.

The Others leave me alone. I think they see me as one of them. I know they haven’t lost any of their aggression ― they tore apart a couple of ponies who tried to make a run for the door, just the other day. It feels like they’re just waiting for me to lose it like they have.

I can feel it. I don’t know if any of the rest could, but I think I can feel my mind slipping away.

Damn it, why did I have to be late.

This will be my last journal entry.

Goodbye.

“Well,” I began not really speaking to either of my companions in particular, “That wasn’t what I was expecting.” He’d mentioned having a pipbuck in the messages, but I noted that there wasn’t one on the poor corpse leaning against the wall. On closer inspection, his left foreleg did indeed appear broken, as if somepony had pried the device off of his corpse.

Tailwind hit a button and the messages closed, darkening the screen. “Well, I think we owe Bernard an apology. That’s pretty much how the stories always went.” She glanced sadly down at the corpse.

Bernard commented dryly, “We should get moving. The less time spent here the better.”

We moved on, out the other side of the room and back on track with an arterial pathway. Our route lead us to another staircase, and up we went. The third floor itself seemed to have had its lighting damaged at some point, as most of the lights were either burnt out or flickering intermittently.

“Wow, mood lighting and everything…” Tailwind nickered from behind me.

“Not now, Tail.” I replied, wary as ever of our surroundings.

The armoury was only a short distance away, and it didn’t take long to reach. A large reinforced metal door stood before us all. The terminal that would have opened it effortlessly for us was smashed, hanging limply from the wall next to the door. I picked up on Tailwind’s soft sigh, presumably at the thought of someone wilfully destroying the terminal.

Bernard stepped up to the door, poking around briefly before commenting, “I can pick this, watch my back, will ya?”

“Fly at ‘er, Bernard. We’ve got your back,” I replied, falling into a basic stance to cover the passageway behind us.

He nodded, reaching into his saddlebags and fiddling around for a little while. He quickly found what he was looking for, sliding out a bobby pin and a screw driver.

What. How do you even…? Euch, dirtponies.

A short while and one apparently broken bobby pin later, the lock gave way. The large door starting to slide open. It shuddered and let out an incredibly loud screech as the evidently rusted and broken gears fought to open the door. It came to a very loud halt after opening not quite enough to fit a hoof through. Echoes of the destroyed door resounded through the building, before a deathly quiet fell upon everything.

Tailwind sighed and turned, “Well that was lou-” she was promptly cut off by an unearthly shriek that seemed to reverberate through our very bones. The siren call was instantly echoed by countless other throats from seemingly every direction.

“Bernard, what the fuck is this?!” I shouted over the din, glancing at Bernard.

He straightened up, “Well, we’re in for the shit now.” He paused, double checking the load on his pistol. “Ferals.”

From the other side of the group, Tailwind called out in an even tone, “Contact right!” She fired off a trio of magical energy shots down the hallway. Swinging my shotguns to bear, I rapidly saw that there wasn’t any point. Two of the ‘ghouls’ had rounded the corner, and I was just in time to see second complete its fall. It joined its partner on the ground, though the second was still kicking impotently, trying to get at us despite the right half of its body refusing to cooperate. “Now would be a good time for an evac plan, Chief!”

I spared half a glance towards the hardly open door, an unplundered trove of weaponry no doubt contained inside, unreachable and taunting us. There was no help for it, and we had to move on. Despite the two Tailwind had taken down, between the thundering of sprinting hooves and the near constant shrieking, we hadn’t seen the last of them. Not by a long shot.

“We push through to to the balcony. I’ll lead. Bernard, you’re not gonna like this, but we’re gonna have to fly you down. Tailwind will provide covering fire once we reach the ledge.”

We both caught Bernard’s grimace, but the sound of ghoulish hoofsteps racing up the stairway we’d used to get to the third level was incentive enough to get our rumps in gear.

The first of a new wave of ghouls rounded the corner, all but tripping over each other in their mad rush to get to us, more than I had time to count at the time, but in hindsight there were a little less than twenty.

They were shambling beings, with patches of rotten skin hanging from their bodies where it wasn't anchored by faintly glowing blue crystals. Their eyes were a soulless, unblinking blue, seemingly empty of thought. They reminded me of the Storm Born I'd seen, though it had seemed to possess a... consciousness. A malice that could only come with at least a semblance of self awareness. By contrast, the mindlessness of the ghouls almost scared me more, to be honest. There was no toying around, no posturing. Those things simply wanted us inside them, in the worst possible way. They'd lost a lot more than simply the spark of life as they were trapped in this colossal tomb. I found that just a little bit of me felt pity for them.

Tailwind fired, the first of the new pack flaring as he vaporized into red dust, scattered a moment later by the mad press of bodies. There was no thought of casualties, no consideration given to personal harm. They were possessed by a single, overwhelming urge. They wanted us.

I kicked off into the air hard, going for maximum acceleration towards the mob blocking the way. I bit down on the battlesaddle's firing bit.

I wasn't used to recoil... well, at all, really. Magical energy weapons categorically have none, as they lack moving parts aside from the trigger. Needless to say, firing a pair of linked shotguns in a combat environment as my first introduction to recoil wasn't exactly the best way to learn. Still, the battlesaddle compensated for a lot. My spread of buckshot caught one ghoul's head in the lower edge of the cone, mulching most of its face. It continued on regardless of its own injury.

At my speed, I'd get off one more shot before we hit. Correcting my aim, I fired again. this time, I aimed for just below the breastbone of the lead ghoul, a unicorn as it turned out. The wide cone of fire staggered her, and the ghoulified earth ponies to either side of her, their blackish ichor painting another sickening mural on the grey walls. It was the opening I needed.

I pumped my wings once more to get as much speed as I could before inverting and folding my wings to my side, letting my momentum carry me up and forward. I hugged the roof as I glided narrowly over the sea of gaping maws and rotten teeth that would want nothing more than turkey dinner.

For one intense, perilous second, I was vulnerable over the horde of ghoulified ponies. A few swiped ineffectually at me, just a little too slow ― their hooves and teeth grasped nothing but air. Most just stared, watching as the blue and red pegasus flew past them and started to get away.

The second passed, and I was through. Flipping around, I continued flying towards the balcony while propelling myself backwards, facing the shotguns back the way I'd came. A brief flash of fear that I'd accidentally hit my companions came upon me, quickly dismissed as I saw the vast majority of this wave of ghouls turn to chase me. I don't pretend to know what went through their feral minds, but I suspect they wanted to go for the prey that could, to their minds, conceivably escape their grasp, making me a primary target.

Regardless of the reason, a dozen of the ghoul ponies turned around and started chasing me. I fired again into the seemingly mindless group galloping towards me. The blast staggered a couple of them, who were then shoved aside by the press of bodies. On the far side, I heard Tailwind and Bernard open up, starting to strategically take down the few ghouls that hadn't chased me, as they began to follow the route I'd taken as I drew the macabre horde towards the balcony.

I fired again. A ghoul's front legs had enough ligaments cut to send him face first into a pile of his own gore ― He was trampled underhoof without hesitation. I fired again. A mare with a startlingly intact yellow mane had her face and chest mulched as she found herself dead center between the overlapping cones of fire. I fired again as I continued pumping my wings to keep up the speed, staying out of reach but close enough to remain a tempting target.

At last, the opening to the balcony was before me. A ghoul ran around the corner, but his silhouette on the threshold was an easy target for my shotguns. They shredded him and left him bleeding in his own ichor. I had five shots left.

I flew over the railing and into the vaulted ceiling of the main room. Not a moment too soon, as the momentum of the remaining ghouls behind me caused them to keep trying to keep chase, right off the ledge of the balcony. They fell, and there was a chorus of sharp snapping sounds, their old bones breaking on impact. A pair of double shotgun blasts stilled most of the quivering forms on the bottom level.

I turned. Tailwind was bare seconds behind the wave, aiming to neutralize any stragglers who barred her way with precise shots. She didn’t necessarily kill them ― there were several still flailing around with severed appendages. Disabling them was enough for her. She flew over the balcony before coming to a hover, bracing herself and continuing to place shots in a steady cadence of magical energy beams. Bernard however, had fallen behind in pace. At the current rate, he’d have been caught by the next wave of ghouls that were already massed behind him, making hard chase towards him.

Oh no you don’t!

I banked hard, coming about and heading back the way I’d came. I flew to Bernard’s side ― he was bare meters from the ledge of the balcony ― before flaring my wings and firing at practically point blank into the mass of bodies. One ghoul caught a chunk of the blast in his chest, stopping him in his tracks while a thing that was once a mare’s leg was torn off at the shoulder and she was trampled beneath the stampeding bodies behind her.

The closer range meant my shells had no time to properly spread, and while the overkill most certainly put down the ghouls it hit, I wasn’t inconveniencing as many with each shot. Rapidly attempting to backpedal, I put another twin blast into their ranks as they closed on Bernard and I. This time only a single ghoul fell, right as I felt and heard my left-side shotgun click empty.

I’ve got one shell left.

They were upon us.

I hadn’t been able to reverse fast enough, hadn’t taken out as many as I’d hoped with my shots. I felt grubby, rotten, fleshy hooves grasp my tail, vigorously pulling me out of the air and into their midst. I shielded my face with my forehooves, an instinctive terror gripping me as I felt hooves grabbing all over my body.

All that was nothing compared to when a rotten, decayed set of teeth sank deep into my flank. The ghoul tore at my flesh and ripped furrows in my hide below the cutiemark on my right hind leg. The pain was like nothing I’d felt before, and I’d felt a lot through years of experience in the VI. All at once it burned and stung, as my skin tore and the tissue below was exposed. It made me scream in agony and terror. I felt violated. Dimly, I heard Tailwind scream my name, her own horror evident in her voice.

It all lasted maybe a second before I saw Bernard throw his full earth pony weight into the ghouls crushing onto me, knocking frail bodies back the way they’d come. I contorted my body and fired, taking the ghoul attached to my hindquarters down. I also caught a pair of the ghouls Bernard had knocked back with the particularly lucky spread of shot.

Bernard was bleeding from bite wounds of his own. If he’d screamed in pain, I hadn’t noticed in the haze of my own injury. Having had far more than enough of them, Bernard set himself between the ghouls and myself right as a torrent of magical energy beams sliced into their ranks. Between Tailwind’s storm of fire and a desperate buck from the terrified earth pony, we were dislodged from the melee, hurling our bleeding bodies over the balcony.

As I fell, in a moment of adrenaline-boosted clarity I saw a confused and scared looking unicorn, beige coat and brown mane, wearing a duster over a set of blue Stable barding. He stood in the doorway to the Stable entrance, half in and half out of the massive set of doors, which were now partly open.

The moment passed as the more pressing issue of our companion's imminent arrival at ground level took precedence. Bernard had already gotten a lot of momentum going by the time I wrapped my forelegs around his shoulders and flapped as hard as I could, desperately trying to avoid a fate like that of the ghouls that had chased me earlier. Tailwind managed to dive in time to help alleviate his weight from opposite me. As a result, for Tailwind and I the landing was jarring, but not hard enough to injure. Bernard wasn’t so lucky. The landing was hard enough for us to hear a distinct crunch as Bernard hit the grey, gore-stained floor. He’d landed hard on his front left leg, and it was bent at an odd angle, clearly broken. Didn't help that he probably had no experience in trying to absorb falling impact from height.

Collecting our wits and taking stock of the situation, I realized the duster-wearing Stablepony was still looking at us from the interior door’s threshold. His pistol was still held in his magical aura, and he wore a look on his face like he had no idea whatsoever what was happening. "Not more of you!" He screamed, adjusting the pistol to more or less point in our direction, "You won't take me!"

He fired a pair of shots, seeming surprised as one buried itself in the ground about five meters from me, and the other ricocheted off the wall.

Despite his actions, I couldn't for the life of me sense any hostile intent from him. It looked very much like those might've been the first shots he'd ever fired. And besides all that, I was out of ammo for my battlesaddle anyways.

I called out to him, "Look, I don't think we're who you think we are, but if you want to get out of here alive I suggest you run, buck! They're right behind us!" As quickly as we could, Tailwind and I helped Bernard out of the pile of now-still corpses that we’d more or less landed in. One tried to bite at my hooves ineffectually, only to receive a brutal stomp to the face from one of my hindlegs. Once we’d managed to extricate ourselves, Bernard started hobbling for the door as Tailwind split off to resume suppressing the ghouls on the balcony.

I made my way over to the nearest side passage and threw open one of the doors. I had a suspicion that the ghouls had redirected and started flooding towards the ground floor, and it was confirmed by the steady rumble of hooves up the nearby stairwell. I bit off the arming stem and tossed an apple-shaped grenade in their path. I hoped it would at least slow them down, but I didn't stay to make sure. After I closed the door, the explosion was muffled more than it should have been from just the door, as if the raw press of bodies was enough to mitigate the small explosive's effects. "We're getting the fuck out of here! You coming?" I shouted back towards the pony still struck by indecisiveness.

After a few moments of indecision, the buck decided to throw his lot in with us and raced for the entrance. Tailwind continued laying down covering fire, taking out the odd ghoul still hanging around the balcony level.

Bernard reached the entrance, having to do an improvised hobble while trying to keep his weight off his injured leg, throwing the door open and holding it for the rest of us. The peculiar buck we’d encountered seemed, despite his initial indecision, to be very much in favour of getting the fuck out of the building, galloping as fast as his unicorn legs could carry him. That left Tailwind and I.

I flew for the entrance, grabbing ahold of the door and watching back, shouting to Tailwind, “Everypony clear!” As we shuttled the tan coloured buck out of the door. With a final burst of fire, Tailwind broke off, diving and flying through the doorway scant seconds before Bernard and I slammed the door shut behind her with an echoing clang.

In the frigid northern air around us, silence reigned aside from everypony’s ragged breathing. Bernard and I stayed put, physically holding the doors closed. Mercifully, the ghouls seemed disinclined to follow us outside, and the sounds of shuffling on the other side of the door quickly receded. I couldn’t fathom the reason, but whatever it was, I was grateful.

We were safe. For now, at least.

Author's Notes:

Whew. So I'd like to say, that chapter ended up being a lot longer than expected. Not bloated, I just initially thought it would be split roundabouts in half, but everything ended up flowing better this way.

This chapter sees Plain becoming part of the editing team, and I've really gotta hand it to him, Belmor, and PersonalGamer. They really busted my balls on this one. (Ok, it wasn't that bad, but seriously without these guys this fic wouldn't be anywhere near where it is)

Thanks for reading, guys!