“Okay folks, we’ll be stopping here for tonight!” shouted an older stallion. Even as he spoke the words he turned and started guiding the wagons where they should go, directing them into a semi-circle near a burned out store-front. Eight wagons pulled into close formation, and two dozen ponies immediately set to work in setting up camp. The moment the wagons were stopped a gaggle of foals spilled from them in a bustle of noise and limbs, laughing as they scattered. A chorus of chiding voices rose up and most of the foals returned, suitably chastised. The rest continued to play and generally run around like maniacs. I watched from the back of the wagon with curiosity, my head turning this way and that, and then turned to look at my momma.

“Can I go play too, momma?” I asked.

My mom turned to look at me, lifting a hoof to brush her brown mane from her eyes. “You remember the rules?” she asked in a sing-song tone.

“Don’t talk to strange ponies, don’t touch strange things and don’t wander far from camp,” I recited.

“Good boy,” she said, leaning over to place a kiss on my forehead. “Go have fun. Come back before dark.”

I smiled wide, and scrambled out the back of the cart, heading off at a gallop down the crumbling street after the other kids. Broken ruins rose up on either side, jabbing toward the sky. I slowed to a trot and glanced around. I’d lost them. I peered into the dark of the closest ruins, feeling my heart begin to beat faster. There was a deep, angry noise coming from it. I backed up a step, hesitating, when a shrill screech echoed out and a trio of foals peeled from the darkness, chased by a fourth making growling noises. The lot of them giggled like made, and made their way back to the camp. I exhaled slowly, and glanced back at the building.

Nothing to worry about. I galloped after them, letting the scary thoughts fade from my mind.

Night fell, and the sky darkened. The caravan gathered around a fire set in the middle of camp and a trio of guards stood several paces out, keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings. The grown-ups talked in hushed voices as the foals slept or played quietly. It was night, and no pony was allowed far from camp.

My momma and I sat in the back of our wagon, staring up at the night’s sky. Faint light shone through the curtain, offering us glimpses of the moon hidden beyond. With her forelegs wrapped around me, my momma nuzzled into my mane. “What lies beyond the clouds, Carefree?” she asked me.

I’d always imagined the wildest of things: lush valleys of the best grass you have ever tasted, flowing rivers with waters that not only didn't make you sick, but also were safe to swim and play in, and friendly ponies who meant no harm. All things I’d never really seen. I told all this to my mom, craning my head back to look up at her. She looked down at me, smiling, but… it didn’t seem very happy. She seemed kinda… worried, I guess. “You okay, momma?”

My momma shook herself free from a memory, and glanced up. "Hope lies beyond the clouds, Carefree. And one day, they will deliver us from this wasteland," She said.

"Who will, Momma?" I asked. Her sad smile wavered a bit and she tore her gaze from the clouds to look at me.

"The Pegasi," she said before glancing up again. She stretched out a foreleg and waved it back and forth as if trying to clear away the clouds. "They'll descend from above on feathered wings, sent by the Goddesses themselves, and they'll take us away from all the horrible ponies. They'll make us safe. One day..."

"Wow..." was all I managed. I stared back up at the clouds, imagining them parting for hundreds upon hundreds of winged ponies. My eyes widened and a smile tugged at the edges of my mouth. The thought of flying ponies coming from on high to deliver us from the horrors of the wasteland left me in awe. Safety was too much for my foalish self to comprehend.

I stayed up well past my mother, trying to imagine what safe would look like. Would there be towns? Cities that weren’t rubble? As my eyelids grew heavy and harder to keep open, I decided that I'd just ask mother come morning.

I never got the chance.

"-free? Carefree! Wake up!"

My eyes fluttered open. I was awake, but hardly alert. I blinked, trying to get the blurred image to resolve itself into something I could make out. My ears were ringing. Why were my ears ringing? I gave my head a shake and peered around.

"W-what's...? Momma?" I mumbled, rubbing one hoof against my eye and the other against my ear.

"Shhh..." she hissed, placing a hoof over my muzzle. "They'll hear you!" The world slowly sharpened into focus and the droning tone in my ears softened to a dull buzz, only to be replaced by the loud crack of gunshots and shouts from the ponies outside.

Wait, outside?

We weren't out by the wagons anymore. Bare shelves stood in the darkened interior like the ribs of a long dead animal. Rusting cans and mold covered refuse littered the floor where it had fallen centuries ago and rotted into an immutable pile, giving the whole building a distinctly noxious smell. My mom had pulled me into the shop next to the camp. She looked around nervously and slowly removed her hoof from my muzzle and looked at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"B-be very quiet, Carefree," she said, nodding her head. "Okay?"

I nodded back, but now my heart was pounding in my chest and my ears dropped flat. My mother peeled away and peeked over the edge of the counter we huddled behind.

"M-momma?" I whispered. She glanced down at me and then back over the counter.

"Need to run..." she muttered. I think it was more to herself than to me.

"Run where, Momma?" I asked as she pulled away from the counter and nudged me into the back of the shop with a foreleg. I scurried into the darkness and stopped to look back at her as she stepped in and pushed the rotting door closed behind her.

"We're g-gonna play hide and seek, Carefree," she said, glancing around the darkened room. I could tell she wasn't in the mood for games though. She was scared. Worse than I had been when I stayed up and listened to the older caravan ponies tell stories around the campfire the other night. Seeing her scared was scaring me.

"M-momma... I don't..." I whispered, my ears glued flat against my head. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be hiding in the dark. "Momma, I'm scared..." I whispered as I began to shake. My mother looked at me with eyes that betrayed her own fear and gave me a quick, tight hug.

There was a sudden crash from the other room, followed by loud voices and the clopping of hooves. I felt my mother's grip on me tighten and could hear the panicked thumping of her heart.

"I saw one come in here," one voice said.

"Ya sure? I don't want to waste time. We got plenty of new merchandise to please the boss," the other responded.

Merchandise? What's does that-

"I-It's okay, Carefree. We just need to hide now," she said quickly as she guided me past the rusting metal shelves and corroded barrels full of Goddesses knew what. In the far corner she snatched up a rusting metal box and placed it over me. I raised it with a hoof only to feel my mom press it back down. "N-new rule... don't come out... no matter what you hear. Understand?"

She didn't wait for a response. I heard her clamber towards the back door. Loudly. Her hooves scrambled on the wooden floor, knocking cans and other things aside as she went. I heard loud banging as the owners of the two voices in the other room threw themselves at the rotted door my mother had shut. Then a loud crack as the decayed wood gave way.

"There! Get her!" I heard a stifled scream and the sounds of struggling. Items skittered across the floor as they were kicked by shuffling hooves. There was a dull thump of something soft being bucked followed by a sudden scream. The grunts and muffled screams seemed to go on forever. Then there was a loud whump and the sound of something heavy dropping to the floor. My heart thundered in my ears. Was momma okay? I had to know. I needed to know. I lifted the metal box up just a tiny bit.

Was that a hoof?

The box around me shone with a hazy orange glow and lifted off. I found myself staring up at a brown unicorn stallion. He wore leather barding with metal plates bolted across his chest. He looked down at me with a resigned expression, magic enveloped loops of chain floated near his head, a rusty shackle hanging off the end.

Please let that be rust…

"Got another one here." he said with a grimace, his foul yellowed teeth peeked out behind a sneer. Behind him I could see a red pony. He was similarly clad, only his barding was older, rougher and painted with a flaming skull. His hoof rested on a lump on the floor. A lump that looked…

“Momma!” I shrieked as I darted past the brown unicorn towards my mother’s prone form. The red pony stepped over her like a hungry dog protecting its meal. “Get away from her!” I screamed, my voice cracking as it rose too high.

“Feisty little shit, ain’t’cha?!” he hissed as he brought his hoof down hard against my head. I dropped to the floor, my vision swimming in and out of focus. “Chain him up already, will ya?!”

“Yeah yeah,” The unicorn said as he floated the shackle over and locked it around my back leg. My eyes shot open and I whipped my head around to stare at the unicorn. “C’mon kid, time to get you back to the boss,” he said as he magically pulled on the chain. The chain snapped tight and threw me off balance. I was dragged along the moldy floor as the unicorn pulled me towards the door to the front.

“No! Momma! Momma, help!” I squealed as I fought for purchase against the grimy wood floor. As I passed a rusting storage rack, I wrapped my forelegs around it. The chain pulled taut and I was lifted off the floor. Several rough yanks followed, each one eliciting a pained scream. I felt the shackle bite into my flesh and the warmth of blood as it seeped out from under the offending metal ring and began to stain my gray coat brown. Each tug jostled the rusting shelf violently. Old cans toppled over and dropped to the floor followed by a toolbox that landed on the floor with a heavy thud and the sound of cracking wood. Just when I thought my leg was going to tear free, the chain went slack and I dropped back to the floor.

“Dammit… Thrash! Kid’s stuck on something! Leave the dead mare alone and get him unstuck! THEN fulfill your debased needs,” the unicorn called.

My eyes burned as tears began to flow freely and I slowly glanced at the prone form of my mom.

Dead? But that means…

“M-momma…” I muttered. The other pony, Thrash, gave a theatrical roll of his eyes and stepped onto her as he made his way towards me. I felt an irrational anger smoldered within me, my heart pounding in my ears. “Don’t touch her!” I screamed.

Thrash paused, looked down at my mother beneath his hooves, and then back up at me with a wicked grin. He planted both hooves firmly on her side and simply stared at me, a smug smile on his face.

“Or what, kid?” he asked. “Look at’chu. Ya barely come up to my knee. Like I’m ‘sposed to be afraid of you.” I glared at him, willing him to burn with all the hatred in my small body. Suddenly the chain pulled tight. The shackle cut into me and I felt it slide further down my leg than my skin should’ve allowed. I glanced at my leg and saw glistening wet muscle peeking past the edge of the cuff. My stomach turned as the realization dawned on me that my skin was being forced off.

PONG!

The support rod I was gripping groaned and popped as the ancient welds snapped apart. I dropped back to the floor, and was pulled across the rough wooden floor as half a dozen heavy steel shelves and supports crashed to the ground. The falling debris crashed into the next nearest rack, knocking it over and onto a stack of barrels. Thrash covered his head with a foreleg and dropped down over my mother’s body as racks holding old boxes of detergent and other mold dusted items toppled over onto his back. He grunted as he was pinned to the ground by the detritus and struggled to pull himself free.

“Dammit! Whips, I’m stuck!” he growled as he pushed against his rusted prison. The unicorn stallion poked his head back into the storeroom and smirked.

“Idiot. I’ll come back and get ya once I get this one thrown into the wagon,” he said as he turned and started to leave again. A loud groaning echoed through the room, followed by the sound of breaking wood. Whips glanced back into the storeroom. There was a loud crack as a pile of shelves and tools disappeared through the floor in a cacophony of clanging metal and cracking wood as it tumbled away revealing a dark nothing beneath. Thrash's eyes bulged and he struggled harder.

“Whips! WHIPS! HELP! SINKHOLE!” Thrash cried out as the weakened floor crumbled away piece by piece and the void devoured more of the shelves and floor. It threatened to swallow him and my mother with equal disregard for their well-being. He struggled against the debris pinning him, his eyes bulging in panic. The unicorn glanced at the expanding fissure separating them and then down at me.

“Kid. You wanna save your mom?” he asked flatly. I glanced up at him, ready to ask him what he meant when I felt myself lifted from the floor and haphazardly thrown across the pit by his magic. I screamed as I passed over it, staring down into the dark abyss that roiled and writhed in on itself, churning like water. I landed in a heap on the other side, just in front of Thrash and my mother. He looked at me with equal parts hate and hope.

“Hurry up kid! Get this shit offa me!” he growled. I got to my hooves and moved closer, pressing against my mom with both forelegs. She was beaten and bloody, angry red hoofprints marring her face.

“Momma?” I muttered. “Momma, wake up…”

“Hurry up, ya shit! That hole’s gettin’ bigger!” Thrash barked. I looked up at him, then back at my mother. He growled in frustration. “Look ya sniveling fuck! Ya save me, ya save her! Now move!”

Now I was focused. I may not have liked the stallion, but I would do anything for my mom. I scurried around behind him and bit onto the closest piece of wreckage pinning him. I tugged with all my might, my hooves struggling for purchase on the aged wood beneath us.

“C’mon! Pull harder runt!” Thrash hissed as he did his best to wriggle free. The floorboards creaked in protest as whatever supports held them up were stressed to their limit.

“I- I can’t! It’s too heavy!” I cried, tears flowing down my cheeks.

“Damn puny foal! Your momma’s gonna die because you’re too fuckin’ weak!” Thrash roared as he struggled even harder against the weight pinning him down.

He was right. I was too weak. I looked around for something… anything I could use. My eyes fell to my bloodied leg and the length of chain still held by the unicorn. I bit into the chain and looped it hurriedly around some jutting pieces of metal. I gave it a cursory glance and then peered around the pile at the unicorn holding the other end.

“Pull the chain!” I called out to him. His head cocked sideways and he fixed me with a confused look.

“Wha-?” he began, but his comrade’s harsh growl cut him off.

“Don’t argue! Just do it!” Thrash shouted. The unicorn scowled and his horn flared brighter as he tugged hard on the chain. The loops snapped tight and the warped shelf groaned as it slowly shifted. I pressed my body against it, pushing as hard as I could.

THUD!

The shelf tumbled over. I rushed over and slipped the looped chains off and rushed to the next heaviest piece.

“Again! Pull!” I shouted. This time there was no hesitation. The chain snapped tight and a large section of shelving groaned as it was lifted off. Thrash managed to push himself to his hooves, the pile sliding off and around him as he did so. The shelves rose up, tilted over in the opposite direction as they slipped out of the chains and disappeared into the pit below.

“Good! Just a little-“ he started, but his words turned into a wretched scream as a length of pipe jabbed into his chest. My mother raised slowly, the short length of pipe gripped tightly between her teeth. Blood flowed around the pipe and spilled out the opposite end. She jerked her head hard, stabbing the pipe deeper into Thrash as she pushed herself to her hooves. He glared down at her.

“Wretched… bitch…” he wheezed, sucking in short, shallow breaths of air. He raised his foreleg and brought it down hard on her cheek with a wet thump and a painful crunching noise. The pipe popped free of the wound with a small jet of blood as my mom’s head jerked away from the force of his blow.

“Momma!” I shouted. I ran over, placing myself between them and glared at the stallion. “Leave my momma alone!” I said in as fierce a voice as I could manage. Thrash sneered down at me briefly before returning his murderous gaze to my mother.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” he hissed as he lifted a foreleg and cracked me across the face. I felt my flesh tear and the newly freed blood ran down my muzzle. I screamed, clutching at it with both forelegs as he shoved me aside and stepped towards my mother as she struggled to get to her hooves once more. “I don’t care if the boss wants more slaves. I don’t even care that you was the first piece of ass that didn’t look diseased as fuck. You die. Here and now,” He said, his voice dripping with venom. He lowered his head and bit down on the hilt of a large knife sheathed on his chest. He pulled it out slowly, the blade dulled with some kind of grease. He lunged forward and jabbed the point of the blade into my mother’s side. She shrieked as Thrash pulled the blade free, blood dripping off the tip.

“Stab me? ME?! I’ll show you how it’s done!” he hissed as he plunged the blade into her again and again. With each attack, she screamed in agony. After the fourth attack he paused, sucking in ragged breaths around the hilt in his mouth. My mother lifted her head and looked at me weakly.

“Free?” she said softly, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. I looked at her, ignoring the pain that radiated from my forehead to my nose and all the way to the back of my head. She looked at the chain attached to my shackled hoof and then back up at me. “Hold tight.” My eyes widened and I quickly gathered up the chain in my mouth. She rolled over and lashed out with her hind legs. She bucked a precariously balanced barrel. It rolled off its perch of garbage and dropped onto the wood with the sound of sloshing liquid. The wood splintered and cracked. Thrash was thrown from his hooves, the knife tumbling from his mouth as the entire floor dropped away beneath us. I darted at my mother, wrapping my forelegs around her tightly as the chain snapped taut. Thrash screamed as he fell into the darkness, disappearing from sight.

“Thrash!? THRASH!” the unicorn called down. He peered over the edge down at us and scowled. “Damn fool,” he muttered as he slowly began to pull us up.

“Momma…” I said around the chain in my mouth. My teeth hurt and I could feel the muscles in my forelegs and neck straining as I held onto her with all the strength I could manage. She looked up at me weakly and smiled.

“Carefree…” she said quietly. She reached up with her hoof and tousled my mane. It seemed to take her an extraordinary amount of effort. “My strong stallion…”

“Momma… hang on…” I grunted as we were lifted painfully slowly. We slipped down the chain several links and I felt my shackled hind leg tugged upward into a painful contortion. She closed her eyes, a smile on her face.

“I love you, Carefree,” she said. I looked down at her, tears in my eyes as her eyes opened again. “Be strong. Be brave. I… I can’t protec-“ she muttered softly, incoherently. She stared off at something I couldn’t see, her eyes unfocused. “Honey… I’m so proud… of our son…” She said as she squeezed her forelegs between us.

“Noo… please…” I grunted through clenched teeth, feeling my grip on both her and the chain slipping. “Don’t!” My mother’s smile never faltered. It remained steadfast as she pushed free of my grip. It stayed true as she gave me one last look and plummeted into the darkness below. I opened my mouth to scream and fell after her, reaching out with my legs. The shackle bit hard into my leg as the chain ran out of slack and I dangled from it like meat on a hook. Blood and tears dripped past me as I stared into the void after her.

I was lifted from the pit slowly, staring back into it the entire time. The unicorn stallion raised me up in front of his face. I hung upside down by my leg, sobbing and he just stared back at me. I blinked at him with tear-filled eyes and sniffled. He looked… pained.

“Get used to it kid,” he said. “Your life’s about to get much worse.” I was flipped right-side up and deposited on my hooves as he turned and we slowly worked our way outside.

Outside the store, the caravan was in shambles. The carts were ablaze, casting a hellish orange glow across everything. I was escorted to a series of carts that looked like little more than cages on wheels. The cage door open and the stallion telekinetically pushed me in. I was one of three foals that they’d rounded up, and I didn’t dare think of what had happened to the missing ones. The others with me I didn’t know, but I’d seen them around the caravan camp on more than one occasion. The three of us huddled together in the far corner of the wagon as the slavers dragged in the adults, chains looped around their necks. Armed guards screamed at them, ordering them into a cage much like ours, only bigger. There were far fewer of them than were this morning.

My muzzle stung and if I looked at it cross-eyed I could see the bloody gash that had been torn in it by Thrash’s hoof. Likewise my hind leg throbbed where the shackle had peeled back the skin. Dirty straw from the floor of the wagon clung to the wound. I sniffled and looked at the other two. A sand-colored filly with a bright red mane, not much younger than me, stared down at her hooves. The green colt was a bit older, and quietly stared between the bars at where the slavers were chaining up the surviving adults and loading them into a separate wagon.

“Why are they doing this…” he muttered quietly.

The filly sniffled and wiped tears from her eyes. I scooted closer and nuzzled at her gently. “Did you lose your momma too?” I asked softly.

She sniffed hard and shook her head. “No. M-my daddy,” she said as tears flowed unabated. She looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. “Those b-bad ponies sh-shot him.”

“They shot a lot of ponies…” the colt said quietly as he turned to face us and moved closer. “My names Bucket.”

“Jerrycan.” The filly sniffled. “My daddy called me Jerry.” They both looked at me expectantly and I glanced down at the shackle around my bloodied ankle.

“I’m… Free,” I said absently. I looked up and saw both foals giving me a strange look. I set my hoof down and deliberately kept my gaze away from the raw red wound it barely concealed. “My name is Free,” I repeated.

“W-where are they taking us?” Jerry asked as she rubbed her forelegs together nervously.

Bucket leaned against the bars and stared at the slavers. “No place good.” He said as the cart jerked suddenly and we started moving. I looked towards the front of the cart at the battered mare harnessed to it. Jagged scars criss-crossed her hide, and her distant gaze focused on nothing. I limped to the front of the cart and peered at her.

“Where are we going?” I asked her. She didn’t look back at me, but her head and ears drooped lower. My eyes narrowed and I leaned forward.

“Hey! Where are w-” I started to say louder. A wooden bat smacked hard against the cage and I stumbled back onto my rump, my question cut off.

“Shut up in there!” a slaver barked. He pointed the bat at the mare pulling the cart and then gestured down the road. “Hurry up! Fortune’s waiting!” The mare nodded quickly and struggled to pull the cart faster. The slaver glared daggers at us as he trotted over to the ponies pulling the adults cart and started spitting harsh words at them

“This is horrible…” Jerry muttered quietly as she curled up. I sat next to her and lightly stroked her mane as I stared out at the passing wasteland. Bucket stared out the back of the cart, watching as the remains of the caravan shrank from view.

“It… it’ll be okay… I promise…” I muttered. But I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince, Jerry or myself. There was a rattling noise from above us. The three of us glanced up at a small pipe with several holes haphazardly punched in it rattled against the cage.

“What’s-“ Bucket began, before a faint green mist sprayed from the pipe, dousing us. Bucket’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a limp mess, followed quickly by Jerry. I stumbled to the side of the cart and looked blearily at the mare pulling the cart before I too fell into darkness.

“Wake up!”

I jerked awake suddenly and lifted my head. Jerry squeaked and hid behind me as best she could. Where were we? When had I fallen asleep? How long had I been asleep? Nothing looked familiar. Everything had a wet sheen to it, and the ground was a soupy morass of brown-orange mud leading to ancient pavement. A stocky yellow mare in metal armor opened the cage and reached a dirty hoof in at us. One by one she scooped us out and dumped us unceremoniously onto the ground, Bucket being the only one with enough sense to land on his hooves.

“Follow the line and keep your damn mouths shut!” she barked as she jabbed her hoof into Jerry’s flank when she didn’t immediately move. Jerry scurried to my side and looked around nervously as we followed a faded yellow line that had been hastily painted on the cracked pavement.

I paused in my march to wave a hoof at the flies buzzing about me. Everything here was destroyed, not that that was unusual for the Wasteland. But here there was a bit more rust and mold than seemed abundant everywhere else. Strange glowing lichen crept its way across fallen bricks and up the supports for the ragged fencing the slavers had set up. And everything smelled… wet… and gross. It smelled like that time Momma and I had found a rotting molerat. There hadn’t even been any useable meat left.

The road we followed was flanked on either side by ramshackle fortifications constructed from rusted metal and whatever else was handy. Armed ponies stared down at us, the attitudes a mixture of boredom and uncomfortable looking excitement. A stallion shadowed us from behind a corroded fence. His hide was a mess of sores and open wounds that wept sickly fluids. He threw himself against the fence, drawing a scream from the three of us.

“Fresh meat!” the filthy stallion said, saliva dripping from his slack jaws as he scraped his hooves against the fence. Jerry winced and huddled closer. Bucket stared in wide eyed terror. The stallion gnawed at the fence, his pin-prick eyes locked on us. “So… so very hungry…” he gibbered.

“I-It’s okay,” I said quietly. “Just k-keep moving.” The stallion followed, batting at the fence like it would suddenly stop barring his path. I couldn’t help but notice that his cutie mark was a bone broken in two. The road ended at a rusting metal gate. Standing before it was the brown unicorn stallion from the other night. He looked at the three of us and sighed and then glanced at the buck on the other side of the fence.

“Leg Cracker!” he barked. The filthy buck flinched and looked at him, his breathing coming in short gasps. “What in the Goddesses’ names are you doin’?!” Breaker glanced at us and then back at the unicorn.

“H-hungry… just a little bite… Fortune won’t have to know!” he said quickly.

“Get your mangy hide back to the mine! ‘Less you want me tellin’ Zero you ain’t doin’ your task again!” he said, pointing back the way the stallion had come. Breaker’s eyes widened and he turned and galloped off, disappeared past the slaver. The unicorn stared after him and then shook his head. “Damned raider scum…” he muttered, his voice trailing off. He looked down at us with an appraising eye and cleared his throat.

“Name’s Whips. Follow me,” he said, as he turned towards the gate. It ratcheted open, clanking and screeching as its rusty parts protested. He stepped through and we hesitantly followed. “C’mon. You don’t want to lag behind,” he urged.

“Where are we?” I asked as I gingerly stepped over the threshold. Jerry huddle close with Bucket, stumbling just a little behind.

“We call it The Dig. It’s an open pit mine just on the border of the Badlands that we’re reopening,” he said. He didn’t look back at us as he continued. “You’re now the property of Fortune. He is your master. You will refer to him as such.”

We were led through a warren of rusting fences criss-crossed with gantries and armed watchponies. Several of them watched us closely and muttered to one another as we passed beneath them. I waved off the flies again as we passed by.

“W-what are they whispering about?” Bucket asked.

“Me,” Whips said matter-of-factly. “Until you’ve matured, you’ll be working in the fields. You’ll be responsible for the food we all eat. Once you’re eighteen, you’ll be put to work either scavenging, or mining.”

“Why are they whispering about you?” Jerry squeaked.

Whips stopped and took a slow, deep breath before turning to glance at us sidelong. “I don’t usually bring in foals,” he said quietly. “I used to leave that for the slavers like Thrash. The kind of ponies who either don’t care anymore, or never did to begin with,” he added, casting a glance at me. “Now focus. You need to remember all of this. We punish the ponies that don’t learn.”

Whips continued on as he led us out of the fenced in area into The Dig proper. It was a massive rent in the ground. It looked as though one of the Goddesses had lashed out at the earth in anger and tore a great wound in its hide. Layered steps tapered downwards towards the flooded bottom, dotted with more ponies than I’d ever seen in one place. Hundreds of them dug, filling the air with a cacophony of machine noises.

“We’ve dug deep enough that the soil we uncover is no longer irradiated. We haul it up and build up the farmland with it,” Whips said as he ushered us past a team of ponies pulling a rusting metal cart loaded with speckled gray stone. Three armed guards followed closely, bellowing commands and brandishing weapons as they passed. “The ore’s what we’re really after.” He glanced down at me and reached out a hoof. He tilted my muzzle down and looked at my face. “Damn. C’mon. I need to get you to the doc or he’ll have my hide.”

I looked up at him and then down at my muzzle. It was a mottled mess of congealed blood and sickly green flesh where Thrash had hit me. I felt my stomach turn as a fly landed on the wound and shook my head vigorously.

“Right… doctor…” I murmured, trying not to think about the rotting wound.

“Hmmm… yes...” the ‘doctor’ said to itself as he, or rather it, gently prodded at my face. It was some kind of metal ball that floated around on an engine of some kind. Three arms extended off that ball, each ending in things you wouldn’t normally want anywhere near your face. And three eyes, or cameras, whirred and clicked as they examined me. The robot spun and faced Whips, its articulated arms curling.

“Mister Whips. What have I told you about allowing infection to set in?” it asked in a distinctly foreign accent. Whips let out a sigh and looked away.

“I brought him as soon as I saw the infection, Doc,” he said. “They were just brought in. It must’ve started on the trip over.” The robot turned and hovered over to a locking cabinet and retrieved a syringe and a glass bottle of purple liquid from it.

“I may have been sworn to Master Fortune,” it started as it returned and, with surprising gentleness, gripped my muzzle, “But that doesn’t mean I approve of you ruffians and your work. If you expect me to patch up all your bullet holes and stab wounds, I WILL offer the same care to the ponies you enslave.” The syringe was poked into my tender wound and I winced before a soothing numbness took over in its place.

“I know, Doc. That’s why I brought him h-” Whips said, but Doc was having none of it.

“Yes, yes. Now I need you to wait outside with the other new arrivals, Mister Whips. I need to work in peace,” the bot said as it pointed a multi-jointed metal limb at the door. Whips nodded and saw himself out ushering Bucket and Jerry back to the waiting room before pulling the door shut with his magic. The robot let out a sigh, or the closest approximation to one it could manage.

“Who would’ve ever thought that this would be my lot in life,” It said as it raised one of its arms to the wound. Small scissors extended and gingerly snipped and removed the gangrenous flesh with deceptive ease. Blood began to dribble from the cut edges. When the discolored patch was removed, a second arm raised the glass bottle and tipped its purple contents onto my muzzle. The bleeding halted and the flesh began to knit itself back together. “I’m sorry, young one. But this went too long without treatment. You will bear that scar for the remainder of your days. Is there any discomfort?”

I stared at the wound cross-eyed as it slowly returned to a healthy pinkish color and let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“N-no. It doesn’t hurt,” I muttered.

“Excellent! Now, I’m going to give you a quick examination. It’s all part of the intake process,” Doc said as he flew in a slow circle around me. “Let’s see. Correct me if I get any of this wrong. Earth pony. Male. Roughly nine years old. Gray fur. Brown mane. What is your name?”

“C- Free. My name is Free,” I said, looking away. I felt numb. Not just in my muzzle, but in general.

“Alright, Free. Is there anything else I can do to assist you?” the robot asked. I looked down at my leg and the metal cuff.

“C-can you check my leg? The shackle really hurt me when they put it on.”

One of the robot’s eyes focused on my leg.

“Oh my, of course I can,” he said. His body rotated and a limb ending in a serrated saw rose into view. “Don’t move now. Reattaching a limb is much harder than removing infected tissue,” he cautioned as the blade spun up to speed. I closed my eyes and braced myself as the spinning blade scraped against the metal cuff. The whine rose in pitch and sparks flew where the two items met.

I should’ve let it go! I thought. Now I’m gonna lose my le-

The metal cuff popped apart and clattered to the metal examination table. My eye opened a crack and when Doc lowered the saw blade I glanced down at my ankle. It was in worse condition than my muzzle had been in. Fat white maggots squirmed along the torn edges of flesh. As I stared in mute horror, the smell hit me; sickly and sweet at the same time.

“Oh dear, another infected area,” Doc said as it lifted the syringe once more. “Hold still. We need to clean this immediately.”

If this was a sign of things to come, I was already not a fan.

It took an hour for Doc to clean my leg and give Bucket and Jerry examinations as well. My leg and face no longer hurt and the cuff that had been responsible for my wound was now gone. Whips marched us out of Doc’s office as quick as he could, doing his level best to ignore the warnings the kindly robot shouted after him.

“We’re going to be late for the announcements. Hurry up,” Whips said angrily as he hurried us along. We had to run as fast as our little legs could carry us to keep from being trampled beneath his hooves.

“Wh-what announcements?” Bucket whispered. Whips ignored him as he corralled us into a large open area. High fences and rusting metal buildings circled the enclosure. There were dozens of foals of all ages. A fence separated us from the adults, of which there were far more. Guards patrolled the gantries, their weapons out and their attention focused on the amassed ponies. A large, central billboard rose above the shantytown, it's back to us. A platform jutted from the rusting metal bones of the billboard, and on it, stood a solitary pony. He looked down on us, on everypony, emotionlessly.

“Welcome to The Dig,” he said loudly, his voice prim and proper. “My name is Fortune, and you all now belong to me.”

A chorus of muttering slowly built amongst the adults while a few of the foals began to whimper and cry. Fortune raised a hoof and waited for the noise to die down. Which it did, after a few shouts from angry guards.

“Now, now. I know this is a drastic change for many of you. But rest assured that the work you do here will secure your futures,” he said as he lowered his hoof. “Here, my word is law. Break the law, and you will be punished by our resident enforcer, Zero. My law is enforced by my minders. Obey them as you would me. Do as you are told and life here can be quite tolerable. You will be safe and secure in The Dig, you will be fed, have access to clean water, and have your medical needs met by our resident doctor.” Fortune paused, letting his words sink in. After a long moment, he cleared his throat and gestured at the guards. “Minders, show everyone to their new living arrangements. Tomorrow, start assigning work details,” he said as he exited the stage. Gates rattled open and guards on the catwalks began bellowing commands.

“Move it!”

“Through the gate! Now!”

“Quit yer bellyachin’ and move!”

Whips grouped the three of us together and escorted us through at the head of the group of foals.

“This way,” he said as he led the lot of us towards a large shack. Next to it was an expansive plot of dark, rich dirt. Several older ponies looked up from their work to regard us sadly. Whips opened the door and stood aside as all of the foals marched in, quietly sniveling and whimpering.

“You’ll live here until you’re old enough for a proper work detail. Mind the elders, they’ve been here long enough to teach you all how to avoid trouble,” Whips said as he shut the door behind him. He spun around and sat down in front of it, looking suddenly older. “Look… I know this is awful. But, try to make the best of things. Keep your heads down, follow orders, and don’t break the rules. Things here can be…” he paused, unsure of how to continue. After a long moment he said. “Things can be okay.”

The foals were relatively quiet for several minutes. Then, from the back of the group one of the fillies began to cry. “I want my mommy!” she wailed. Slowly, like a sickness, the crying spread to the others until it was only Whips and I who weren’t crying. His ears fell flat against his head and he looked away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he stood and turned to leave. The door creaked open and he slipped away, shutting it behind him. I looked back at the room of crying children huddled together and then down at my bandaged leg. I wanted to cry too. I could feel the pain, both physical and emotional, gnawing at me. But then I heard my mother’s voice in my head.

Be strong. Be brave.

For her, I could weather this storm. For her, I’d find a way to be truly free.

Author's Notes:

---

This is the end of my prologue. Its quite long but I needed to properly establish character motivation. Questions, comments and criticisms are all welcome.

2/5/16: Minor grammar edits as suggested by my editor.
9/21/16: More minor edits.
10/29/19: Content added. Edits made. Thoughts expanded on.