“Uh oh...”

I jolted awake as the wagon rumbled to a halt, heart pounding, blood rushing through my erect ears. Gunfire and screams echoed through my consciousness as the world around me unfurled from the blackness of my slumber…

Only that rumbling sound wasn’t gunfire, it was a great many wagon wheels as, one by one, they came to a halt outside. And those screams were just hushed voices, quiet in the darkness around me. The battle was over, the chaos of the past day was behind us, and somehow in spite of all the horror I’d managed to find myself asleep. I didn’t know what it said about me that I could sleep after...all that. Shuddering, I suppressed the dark miasma of horrid images that threatened to flood my mind’s eye.

“You okay there?” the gangly-legged young buck drew my wild eyes, his own worrisome as they peered back at me.

“Yeah,” I said, plastering on my best reassuring smile, “I’m fine.”

As the order came to finally disembark, I stretched my wings briefly before flapping out into the dark of night. Squinting into the inky blackness, I noticed that this night Dual Gauge had the caravan setup with wagons ready to move. With all our recent losses, we were far too few to properly defend against another ghoul attack. And like it or not, there were certainly more ghouls out there...

I shuddered as something foul flashed across my vision, ichor in my mane, blood in my nose, the machete buried itself in the wall behind me as I drew my taser and fired. The stench of a battlefield: foul blood, loosed bladders and bowels, gunpowder in the air. A groan escaped me as I squeezed my eyes shut, hovering in place as I fought to overcome my thoughts.

Fortunately, help came in the form of a harsh voice.

“Healthy Skies!” Leather Strap called from below, garnering my attention.

‘What does she want now!?’ I mentally grumbled, looking down at the medical mare.

“Come with me,” Strap stated, turning and strolling off without another word.

“Ugh,” I grumbled, swooping down after her, “Crusher OD’ed,” I reported as I followed on my wings, “Probably didn’t have enough nutrients in his system to properly metabolize—”

“Yeah, that much I figured,” Strap butted in, not bothering to look back at me, “that was a real stupid stunt you pulled back there. Nearly got you killed, smart thing would’ve been to cut your losses and escape.”

“Seriously?!” I snapped, “I...I saved their lives with that ‘stupid stunt’ I pulled! If I hadn’t gotten Red Mist down here...if I hadn’t gotten Crusher’s vitals back...ugh!” I wanted to swoop down there and wring her ugly neck! “What the hay does it take to get a wind-blasted compliment from you!?”

Strap halted, glaring back at me for a moment as she struggled with something. After a brief moment, she seemed to cave as her eyes found mine.

“Good job,” she admitted, then turned and briskly trotted off again.

I hovered for a moment, stunned, then felt a small smile crease my lips as I flew after her. She led me only a short distance more, halting at what appeared to be a group meeting of sorts. Dual Gauge, Dynamite, Cookie, and two other earth ponies I didn’t recognize stood together...along with Red Mist, black armor making him nearly invisible in the darkness. He glanced at me briefly before turning his bug-eyed helmet away, sewing a seed of foul emotion in my gut.

“Good, we’re all here now,” Dual Gauge spoke as Strap took her place among them, a semicircle facing Mist and me.

“What’s this about?” Red Mist scowled.

“I’ve called this meeting of the caravan heads due to the events that transpired earlier today,” Dual Gauge spoke up, looking to his fellows, “Normally this process takes longer to evaluate individuals like yourselves, but in light of recent events we’ve decided to make an exception.”

“To what?” I asked, ‘There’s no way...do they really mean…’ I wondered.

Dual Gauge looked briefly to his fellows before returning his gaze to us, “Healthy Skies, Red Mist, due to your actions earlier today, the lives of six caravaners and one wagon were saved. You risked life and limb in spite of everything to save six ponies you didn’t even know. For that, we thank you and offer you a permanent place within the ranks of the caravan.”

It had only been a day ago that I’d gone to Dual Gauge asking about exactly this, and now here I was, being offered a permanent position within the caravan. My heart fluttered and a smile split my lips as I opened my mouth to say—

“No thanks,” Red Mist replied before I could speak.

The caravan heads looked just as flummoxed as I was, glancing quickly amongst themselves before settling their eyes on Dual Gauge.

“I...um...you’re sure?” Dual Gauge asked, looking surprised, “Look, you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty. You came down and helped pull a caravan of strangers to safety...at risk to your own life.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to join you ponies,” the way he said it, ‘ponies’ was a polite replacement for a foul expletive, “You nearly killed us when we first met, your people have constantly harassed us just because we’re pegasi, why would we want to join you?”

“My sentiments exactly,” Dynamite grumbled back.

Cookie gave a soft grumble of his own.

“Both of you shut your traps,” Dual Gauge growled at the two stallions, “The vote favored them four to two.” Then he turned to me with a look of confusion, “Skies, I thought you said you wanted to join the caravan? Are you reconsidering?”

“No, I...I do,” I said, looking from Mist to the others, “Blue above, I do!”

“What!?” Now it was Mist’s turn to be confused, “Skies, you can’t be serious…”

“I can and I am,” I would’ve stomped a hoof for emphasis, but the gritty ground made me hesitant, “We already won over a lot of these ponies, Red Mist! Why should we throw all that away and start over in some town filled with ponies just as ready to hate us as they were?” I gestured to the caravan heads with a hoof, “We’ve started something good here! It’s been a hell of a few days, but it’s been hell with ponies who I can call friends!”

Mist stared at me in the darkness, mouth a firm line against his crimson coat. Yet he had nothing more to say to me when he turned to the caravan heads.

“I decline your offer. I’ll stay with you as far as the next town, but then I’m gone.” And with that he trotted off with the sound of boots on dirt, black armor melding into the night.

“Well, that concludes that, I guess,” Dual Gauge spoke up, “Everypony, dismissed.”

The six caravan heads departed, each going off in their separate ways. I was about to fly off to find a spot for the night, but something on my mind made me flap after Leather Strap instead.

“So four to two, huh?” I spoke up as Strap trotted back to her wagon, “The way things went it looks like the two were Dynamite and Cookie.”

“Yeah, so?” Strap threw me a look over her withers, “Rock Runner and Hot Wire only voted to keep you on after hearing what you did during the chase.”

“So why did you vote to keep me on?” I asked with a small smile, “I figured you just thought I was some dumb old fool of a pony.”

“You’re not a fool,” Strap admitted, then killed the spark of happiness I'd gotten from the words, “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m sorry, what!?” I halted briefly in the air at the verbal slap, “How the hell is that any better?”

“A fool is blind, an idiot just needs to open their eyes,” Strap looked forwards again, “If you were a fool, I’d have thrown in my vote with Dynamite and Cookie and forced Dual Gauge to a standstill. I nearly did with your friend, but he might’ve proved useful. Lucky for me, he declined Dual Gauge’s offer.”

“Red Mist is hardly my friend,” I grumbled, looking away with a scowl.

“And that’s one of the many reasons why you’re an idiot,” Strap replied, turning to face me as we reached the medical wagon, “You’re weak, both physically and mentally. I can’t talk to Red Mist’s mental state, but physically he’s prime material; perfect for those times when you can’t run from your troubles. Ponies like you and me need to surround ourselves with ponies like him; when your ass is against the wall and a raider comes charging at you with a sledgehammer and a hard-on, there’s not a lot you can do.”

I felt my scowl weaken and flutter, tearing my gaze from Strap’s. Again the mare threw her machete at me...again I fired my taser and zapped her to death. Yet darker thoughts sprung up as I imagined what might’ve happened if Red Mist hadn’t been there.

“Whatever trouble there is between you two, I say make amends, shake hooves, and get the hell over it. Enemies don’t sit well in a small community like the one we’ve got here, and you’ve already got plenty of ponies that don’t like you,” Strap turned and climbed into the wagon, holding the flap open for me to follow, “Sure, he’ll leave when we reach Oasis Springs, but it’s always nice to have brawny friends around if you ever want to settle down.”

I followed her into the wagon, but only physically as her words drew my mind away from everything. My physical form donned a medical mask and peered over wounds, but my mind was elsewhere, up in the clouds as I looked down upon a world without Red Mist...

First and foremost I’d have been stuck above the clouds, with no way out. I never would’ve guessed to come down to the wasteland, I’d been suckered like everypony else into believing all the propaganda. It would melt my face off, boil off my coat, turn me into a bloated mess of tumors in some B movie horror show.

A mare winced and whimpered as I stitched her wound closed.

And even if I had come down here, I never would’ve gotten this far. I never paid attention in the survival aspects of the Filly Guides, I just ran around with my friends and sold bland cookies. The fire Mist had made that first night? Forget about it.

My nose wrinkled as I peeled back a bloody bandage, cleaning the wound and applying a fresh one.

Maybe I could’ve found the church, but even if I did I didn’t have any E.F.S and when the raiders arrived...the buck with the hammer grinned that grin at me again, and I couldn’t help but shudder as…

“All right, that’s the best we’re going to get for tonight,” Strap might as well have smacked me as my train of thought was derailed. Coming out of my reverie, I found a mass of wounded now much better off with cleaned wounds and stitched hides.

“Get some sleep, just keep near the wagon,” Strap said, removing her mask and goggles, “Dawn’s only a few hours away and we move before first light.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, wearing more emotional baggage now than I had been before. It dragged me down like weights in a windstorm, so I gave in and unrolled my sleeping bag—the one that Red Mist had given to me—and snuggled in, staring up at the blank, black sky. No moon, no stars, no nothing, just a pitch, inky blackness devoid of any glimmering flicker of light. The dark should’ve helped me sleep, but instead I just stared upwards with a somber expression...at least until a sharp cramp made me wince and rub at my belly.

“Damnit,” I grumbled, tossing off the top flap of the bag, re-rolling it, and stuffing it back into my saddlebags. I’d be lucky if I got any sleep with the chaos in my skull, but maybe—just maybe—I could find a way to settle it.

I spent most of the time it took to find Red Mist thinking over and re-thinking over what I was going to say to him. Did I start mean? No, that would only make things worse. Did I apologize first? No. Hell no! He was the one who had tried to trick me! So what, then?

All too soon, I came across his prone form, looking as uncomfortable as ever as he lay down in his armor. Hovering over the dirt at his back, I found myself at a sudden loss of words. I was about to turn away, he was probably asleep anyways, but there was a soft scuffling of dirt as he rolled over to face me. I could almost see him scowling at me in the dark.

Well, it was now or never.

“Hey…” I said, approaching him with caution, “Did...did you really just bring me down here just to get me to change my mind about the foal? Just...to just get an abortion?” I asked.

A heavy sigh escaped Mist’s lips, “Do you really need to ask that, Skies?” he sat up, outline shifting in the darkness, “I really should have just let you walk out of my hotel room and try to rough it out on the clouds. But we were friends, Skies, and I didn't want to see you get burned. Figured if I took you down here you'd cave and get it taken care of," he paused for a moment, "Maybe it worked. I’d be utterly amazed to know that the foal hasn’t slipped yet.”

I gave him a punch for that last remark, but he barely even had to shrug off the blow as my hoof bounced off his armor. He didn’t bother to respond as I shook the offending appendage with a soft ‘ow.’

“Then be amazed!” I retorted, lifting my forehooves for dramatic effect, “I had Leather Strap check on the foal just the other day and it’s doing just fine.”

“Hurray for you,” Red Mist replied with all the gusto of a rock.

Part of me wanted to hit him again, to make him respond the way that I wanted him to, but I stuffed that part of me down. That part of me wasn’t the part I wanted to call on now; like it or not, Leather Strap was right about this. Hitting Red Mist wasn’t going to help me make amends...no matter how much I really did want to hit him.

“Look,” I said, swallowing my hate for a moment, “I hurt you, you hurt me...I guess we’ve got a lot of hate between us right now, but we were friends once—”

“I don’t hate you,” Mist muttered, giving a sharp snort as he turned away, “Damnit, I can’t hate you! All of this is my own, damn fault; I broke my vows to the Enclave, I got seen by your damn buckfriend. You just got knocked up and wanted to beat the system like any other mare,” his helmeted head turned back to me in the dark, “By the winds, I want to hate you...but everything I’ve done so far has been my fault! I shouldn’t have led you on, lied to you and taken you down here…”

“Well...” I spoke up as he trailed off, “In all honesty I’m glad that you did...an...and I’m sorry. I’m sorry you...I’m sorry I...just, I’m sorry, okay?”

Mist seemed to ponder over my words for a few moments, sitting quietly in the dark beside me, “Words don’t change the fact that we’re both still stuck down here.”

“No, no they don’t,” I said, thinking for a moment, “But really? What can?”

“Nothing short of a miracle. Provided your buckfriend spills his guts to the authorities, we’re wanted ponies above the clouds,” he replied, settling back down in the dirt.

I quickly changed the subject, “But we don’t...ugh, we’re what? A few more days out from our next destination? Oasis Springs?” I said, not satisfied with his answer, “If you’re really leaving…” I let the sentence hang in the air.

“Skies, seriously,” Red Mist grumbled, “Has nothing in the past few days shown you how bad an idea it is to stick with this caravan? We’ve been harrowed by racists, ghouls, and raiders. Our initial stop was in a slaughtered town. Before that they were about to run into an ambush that we just so happened to stop on accident. These ponies run into shit non-stop, and its been getting worse each time. They’re bad luck, Skies.”

My taser crackled as the raider mare fried, twitching and...I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut against the image, “How do you know settling down in a town will be any better? We’re bound to run into more ponies who don’t like us! At least here some of them are warming up to us!”

“To you,” Mist grumbled, “You’re the one…” he trailed off.

“You’re the one who helped pull the wagon to safety,” I finished his sentence, though not the way he’d intended it, “Don’t...don’t sell yourself short,” I added.

Red Mist mulled that over for a moment, a scowl in his voice, “Only because you blackmailed me into doing it...I burned off most of my suit’s energy reserves with that stunt, it’ll be running at minimum capacity for at least the next day or two!”

“I...um…” I stumbled at the sudden change in tone, “It-it was necessary! Lives were on the line! So what if your suit’s burned out, we saved lives!”

“Yeah, but who's?” Mist said with a sense of finality, settling his head back on the ground.

“It doesn’t matter who’s life it is!” I snapped back, feeling the grip on my emotion slip, “The hiponycratic oath—”

“You’re the one with the stupid oath to do no harm,” Mist interrupted me, dropping his voice to a hiss, “I’m the one who’s sworn an oath to defend the Enclave from these ponies! I’m the one who’s been training to kill them!” Even in the darkness I caught the glare he was giving me, “Look, do what you want to do, but I’m out of here at Oasis Springs or whatever. Have a good life,” and with that, he turned back away from me, ending the conversation.

Hovering there for a moment, anger told me to get in the last word. Yet as my mind drew a blank, I eventually found myself flapping off, muttering foul words under my breath. I’d come to him trying to bring peace, but he’d just turned it back to war! Ugh! Why couldn’t I just make him understand!?

Still muttering, I threw my sleeping bag on the ground and tossed myself onto it, rolling over and staring up into the dark pitch above. My eyes danced over the unending blackness, searching it for something more, a glimmer, a break, anything...

A starshell exploded overhead.

The effect was immediate, cries of alarm springing up everywhere with ear-twitching cracks of gunfire. My heart leapt into my chest as any thought of sleep perished from my mind; I was on my hooves and shoving my sleeping bag into my saddlebags in an instant.

“Get moving! Get moving!” an older stallion’s voice called out.

“Run!” a younger buck shouted in alarm.

“Where are they, can you see them!?” a mare whinnied in fright.

“Gunshots! Those shots are at us! Find cover!” my ears perked at the final voice, squinting around in the sudden light. Two ponies that had been hitched up to a nearby wagon lay limp in their harnesses, blood leaking from fresh wounds in their hides.

More gunshots followed in tandem with a shout of pain from a buck that had just strapped into his harness. He crumpled and sagged as his partner leapt behind a wagon, bullets eating into the dirt where she’d just been.

They were targeting our pullers!

Taking the hint from the other ponies about, I jumped behind the medical wagon, putting it between me and the direction of gunfire. I was quickly joined by Leather Strap and another one of the medical ponies as the gunfire began to die down.

“Who’s shooting!?” the other pony cried, “What do we do?!”

“Small group of scouts, most likely,” Leather Strap threw a squinting glare to the slowly spiralling starshell, “They can’t run us down—not enough horsepower—so they’re planning to bog us down with gunfire till the undead cavalry arrives,” she spat, “How the fuck are raiders using ghouls as weapons?”

Sporadic gunfire blasted forth from the caravan, but the light of the flare made it almost impossible to see the enemy’s muzzle flashes.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” I heard Dynamite’s voice snarl above the din, “Look for the origin of the next flare! Return their muzzle flashes!”

“What do we do!? What do we do!?” the other medical pony pranced in place.

“I-I could grab the next flare...L-like last time,” I offered, though after what had happened the last time I really didn’t want to.

“No, stay put! Both of you!” Strap shot down the idea without hesitation, “If they’ve got any brains between their ears they’ll expect that and shoot you down in a heartbeat,” she squeezed an eye around the side of the wagon, pulling it back before any pot shots could be taken, “All they need to do is sit there and shoot anypony that tries to make a run for it, they’re smarter than your run of the mill raiders.”

The world returned to an inky pitch as the flare died, a fog of silence falling with it. Shuffling hooves and the clacking of teeth on mouthgrips were all that could be heard. I strained my ears, listening for—above all else—the sound of stampeding hooves over the ground.

I flinched as, with another pop, bright light shone down from above.

“Over there! I saw the shot come from there!”

“Open fire!”

“Shoot! Shoot!”

Gunshots made me cringe and lay low as the defenders blasted away towards the origin of the flare. Then a new volley echoed from my left, bullets cracking past me as more caravan ponies screamed.

“Move!” Strap yelled, magically shoving me around the wagon and out of the new line of fire,“Move! They changed posit—” her shout turned to a cry of pain as she crumpled to the dirt, holding a wounded foreleg.

“Strap!” I yelled, biting down on the collar of her shirt and yanking her around the wagon. Dirt kicked up around the ground where she’d just been and with a sick feeling I heard the medical buck collapse under the storm of bullets.

“Ow, fuck! Get off me, I’m fine!” Strap sat up, pressing her back to the wagon as she waved her glowing horn over the wound, “Goddesses damnit!” she snarled, wrapping the wound in a bandage and tossing a few pills down her maw.

Return fire blasted back from the caravaners, bullets cracking past me in both directions as I cried out and covered my head with my forehooves. My flattened ears hurt, whining at me as Strap dragged the medical buck around the wagon and began stripping his body of supplies.

Why me!? Why us!? What had I ever done to deserve this!?

Peering between the wagon wheels towards where the enemy fire was coming from, I saw the sporadic muzzle flashes in the dark. Briefly the snarling, grinning faces of the raiders were lit up with them before fading away into the darkness.

The darkness…

My eyes darted to the falling flare, seeing its light fade faster and faster as it neared the ground.

Strap gave a soft hiss, holding her foreleg gingerly, glancing towards me as I dropped my saddlebags and began to dig through them. I knew I’d seen it in here the other day—aha!

Gripping it in my maw, I watched and waited until—with a final, feeble, flicker—the flare died away. Then I leapt out from behind the wagon and tongued the flare gun’s trigger.

My own flare rocketed off into the night, bursting into bright light over the raider’s position. There were only five or six and they froze, startled eyes blinking and squinting in the sudden light.

‘Gotcha!’ I leapt back to safety.

“Open fire!”

The gunfire was one-sided now, cutting through the raiders as they ran for cover. None made it more than a few startled paces, caught off guard out in the open.

Another flare was fired towards the location of the raider’s original flare, but whoever had fired it was gone.

“Move! Now!” I heard Dual Gauge’s voice call out, “Leave the dead, load the wounded, everypony else on hoof!”

“He’s dead,” Strap jerked her head to the medical buck’s body, now looted of medical supplies. A ruckus was rising around me as pullers now strapped themselves in, taking off without hesitation, “Go help the others!”

I nodded, stowing the flare gun and grabbing up my saddlebags.

Rushing into the chaos, I heard cries and whimpers as the wounded were loaded up; clicks and clacks as ponies were strapped to wagons. Dust lifted and wheels rumbled as wagons took off.

“Skies!” I turned to see Dual Gauge flanked by Dynamite and Hot Wire, rushing over at his call.

“I’m here,” I reported.

“Where’s Leather Strap?” Gauge asked, eyes darting behind me.

“Medical wagon, she took a bullet in the leg,” I replied, adding: “She’ll survive.”

“Good,” Gauge turned to Dynamite, “Take your wagons on a roundabout route to the north. Hot Wire, you take yours and Rock Runner’s to the east, I’ll keep the main force going to the northeast. I don’t care if you hear screams and shouts from another group, your objective at this point is to escape and get to Oasis Springs. Somebody needs to warn the wasteland about these raiders and their ghouls.”

“Yes, sir,” Dynamite rushed away.

“Will do,” Hot Wire gulped, cantering off.

“Skies, you’re with me,” Dual Gauge began to supervise the final group of ponies as they loaded the wounded and got moving. I watched as the caravan peeled off into three groups, each headed off on a different vector. Some of the wagons were being left behind, there were simply too few of us to drive them all.

“W-we’re splitting up?” I asked, worry lacing my voice.

“They’ve got more than enough ghouls to wipe us all out in one fell sweep,” Gauge scowled, not looking at me as he gave a quick whistle and had our group roll out, “What I’m hoping on at this point is that they don’t have enough raiders and flares to target all three groups at once. They’ll have to track and target each one, one at a time.”

“But if...if they target this group…” I trailed off as he met my fearful eyes with his own hard grays.

“Like I said: at this point it’s about somepony getting the message out about the ghouls—Keep it moving!” he shouted at a wagon that had slowed.

“Wh-why don’t we do the dash and buck thing?” I posed, “Outrun them again? Surely—”

“Pullers are too drained, you saw what happened to Crusher first hoof,” he shot down the idea as we moved with the caravan, “And we’ve only got a few inhalers and pills left. That was meant to be just a one-time thing, something for an emergency, and it worked,” he turned to me, “Check on the wounded, report back to Strap, and if you feel that you’re up to it…” he ignited his horn, unslinging a shotgun and bandolier from his back. The weapon was immediately familiar, bringing with it the memory of High Brass’ death, “Take this.”

“Nice gun,” Strap commented as I landed near the medical wagon

While a small voice within me whined, I forced myself to tolerate the gritty ground at the moment. I needed to conserve my energy if things became desperate and, more importantly, there were wounded ponies that needed my help. Once again I felt myself closing bullet wounds and administering a dwindling supply healing potions. I didn’t want to have to pick and choose who got a potion and who didn’t, but that was all part of the medical game. Triage was a real bitch.

“The wounded in our caravan are all stable,” I said, adjusting the shotgun as it lay across my back, “Dual Gauge wanted me to report back once I was done checking on them. Are...are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Strap replied, trotting on three legs, “Bullet wound, burns like hell but bleeding’s stopped. Stick close, stay frosty.”

The two of us hopped out of the medical wagon—Strap more gingerly—and she cast her eyes to the darkness surrounding us, then jerked her head towards my weapon, “I hope you know how to use that thing.”

The ghoul’s yellow-brown teeth snapped at the end of the barrel before its brains splattered out the back of its skull—I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, keeping my stomach in check.

“M-me too…” I gulped.

“Hey,” Strap drew my eyes to hers, dead set as they burned into mine, “If we get overrun, you fly, got it? Dump that thing if you need to, but you fly and you don’t stop.”

With a deepening feeling of terror in my gut, I managed a quick nod of my head.

“You damn well better,” Strap growled.

The shotgun was heavy across my back as the night went on, the rolling of wagon wheels the only sound in the cool night. The dull rumble was like a hurricane in my twitching ears, swiveling this way and that as I tried to pick up something, anything that might be a waiting horde of ghouls or a raider ambush.

I was just about to let my heart relax a little when the distant echo of gunfire started up from our South. Terror leaked into my bloodstream, chilling my guts like a dip in a snow cloud. Anxious murmurs sprung up all around the caravan, then died at harsher hisses for silence.

Wincing as she trotted, Leather Strap turned towards the distant sound, muttering a curse under her breath.

I watched the distant darkness with her for a short while, biting my lip as my abdomen gave a quick pinch. My gaze was only relinquished as I nearly trotted into a stopped wagon, giving a short shout of alarm.

“Quiet!” Dual Gauge hissed, cantering around the wagon, “Strap?” he continued in a whisper.

“I’m here, what’s going on?” Strap replied, “Why are we stopped?”

“We’re ditching anything we can live without, consolidating the wounded to one wagon and pushing on,” Dual Gauge began to whisper his plan, giving the caravan a backwards glance to ensure his orders were being followed. As he’d said, the few wounded from the merchandise wagons were being moved, pullers arming up and grabbing supplies. Ponies were filling up anything they could from the water wagon, a forlorn-looking Doughy standing by the main spigot, “Fewer wagons means faster speed and less noise.” His eyes were drawn to the distant gunfire once more, dying down now, “Hurry!”

“No,” Strap whispered back as Dual Gauge began to turn away, “Dual Gauge, we need to ditch the wounded. Arm them and leave them behind, continue on hoof.”

“What!?” I exclaimed, “You can’t—” my words went unheard by both ponies as they continued over me.

“I’m not leaving the wounded behind, Strap!” Dual Gauge hissed back, “Hell, you’re wounded!”

“And I’m armed,” Strap’s horn ignited, lifting a small, pocket-sized handgun.

“I don’t have time for this shit, Leather Strap!” Dual Gauge shot back, “We keep one wagon—”

“Damnit, you old coot, listen to me!” Strap snarled, “You’re all a bunch of dead ponies if you keep the wagons and the wounded. This has evolved way beyond any fucking form of morals now,” Dual Gauge glared at her as she paused for a breath, “Now it’s about survival, plain and simple. Arm the wounded, leave them...leave us behind. Otherwise we’re all just dead ponies walking.”

Leaving the bodies behind and unburied I understood to some degree, but this!? This was madness, you couldn’t...you couldn’t just leave ponies behind to die! An image of the defenders that had been left behind the the previous day burned through my mind. Their screams as they were overrun made my ears twitch.

“Guys, we can’t—” I tried again, shaking off the mental images.

“Open your fucking eyes, Healthy Skies!” Leather Strap snapped, turning on me and forcing me back a step, “When the world itself is against you then there’s fuck-all that you can do but cut your losses and run!” She turned her eyes back to Dual Gauge, “Now it’s time for you to run.”

“Dual Gauge,” Break Action spared me a sidelong glare as she approached the old unicorn, “We’re ready to move out, on your order.”

Dual Gauge turned from Break Action to Leather Strap, his old eyes glaring into hers, searching them for a moment. She stood resolute, scowling back at him.

“Dual Gauge…” I said, words failing me as he turned tired eyes to my face. Anything that could be said had already been spoken. All that remained was for him to make his decision.

The gunfire to the south had ceased.

“Move out,” Dual Gauge said, holding Strap’s hard gaze with a harder one of his own for a moment, “All of us.” And with that he turned on his heel and struck out into the darkness.

“Goddesses damnit,” Leather Strap spat, yet she followed the order, if sullenly.

I allowed a sigh of relief to escape me as the caravan moved on.

Footnote: Level progress 55%

Skills increased:

+Small Guns

+Medicine

Fame Gained: Dual Gauge’s Caravan – Hero of the Day

Author's Notes:

For those who didn't catch it, Hiponycratic oath is a play on the Hippocratic oath