I awoke to the sounds of murmuring voices. I sat up and willed my eyes to remain open despite my brain’s insistence that another five minutes would surely be fine. The other slaves were awake, but nopony had moved from the spots they had taken up the previous night. Bruiser and Fricassee stood in the faint morning light just outside the entrance, looking in all directions. Stitch stood in front of us, silent as a ghost and looking as though she wanted the world to swallow her whole. The bookworm was nowhere to be seen.

“What did I say, Frick?” Bruiser grumbled. “All you two had to do was keep an eye on him. That’s it!”

Fricassee’s response was the mechanical wheezing of her breather. She turned her head in his direction, her eyes narrowed. “Girl’s gotta. Sleep,” she muttered.

“Goddesses damn you both,” Bruiser barked as he trotted back into the building. “Everybody up! C’mon! Get up! Now Wrecker!” His hoof lashed out at anyone who didn’t move at his desired quickness and I watched Daydream take two hits before she could get to her hooves.

“What’s going on?” I asked. Bruiser turned a death glare at me. I stood my ground but did my best to maintain my well-honed ‘stupid slave’ look. After a moment he relented and jabbed a hoof out at the street.

“The tag-along is gone. Slipped out in the night. Now we need to find two ponies in this forsaken wasteland,” Bruiser said. “Alright, everyone. Outside. Now. Find me something that points in the moron’s direction. Go! Now!”

We spilled from the building, some faster than others. Wrecker trotted out like a bored colt looking for something to occupy his time. He glanced this way and that and then disappeared into the ruins across the street. Daydream walked down a crumbling sidewalk, head hung low as she scanned for signs of his passing. With a sigh, I trotted back inside. Bruiser watched me pass, his eyes narrowing.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. I shrugged and stopped near the burnt out remains of last night’s fire.

“Just what you asked. Looking for the bookworm,” I answered as I stared at the space the pony had occupied last night. I could still see him muttering to himself incoherently from across the fire, tapping that thing on his ankle. Bruiser stepped over near me, his eyes still narrowed. I looked at Bruiser and pointed at where he’d been last night.

“He’s always tapping away at that thing on his foreleg, looks like a shackle without the chain,” I said, miming the action.

“His pip-buck? What about it? I swear if you are wasting my time…” Bruiser started. I rolled my eyes and cut him off.

“Right, well, yesterday when he was messing with it, he mentioned something about something just east of here.”

Bruiser sucked his teeth a moment and then turned and marched back into the street. He looked east and I could almost see the debate he was having with himself in his head about whether or not he could trust me.

“Stitch!” he bellowed after a moment. The mare trotted over and looked at him coolly.

“We’re sweeping east. Make sure there are no stragglers,” he barked as he turned back to me. “Alright you, start moving east,” he said with a jerk of his head.

Wordlessly I trotted down the road, glanced this way and that. I wasn’t searching, not really. If the bookworm were still here, he’d have made an appearance by now. No, he must be further out.

Or dead.

Behind me, Stitch let out a sharp whistle that rang throughout the ruins. One by one the others trickled out and gathered near her. She gave a few hushed commands and Snazzy and Onyx trotted to the cart that had been my constant companion. They were buckled in by Fricassee and shortly thereafter they followed. Bruiser trotted behind me, followed by the slaves, who were in turn followed by Stitch and Fricassee.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Bruiser called. I gave him a shrug.

“Beats me,” I called back, “What exactly is he looking for?”

“You don’t need to be asking questions, slave!” Bruiser shouted back. Again, I shrugged. If he was so opposed to my insight then he could go without it, it made no difference to me. We left the ruined town in short order, the broken stone and rebar gradually giving way to a vast swathe of dirt and the occasional patch of brush that stubbornly refused to die.

We walked for several hours, our eyes peeled for any sign of Dig Deep. Snazzy and Onyx whispered quietly to one another, as did Jerry and Daydream. All the while Wrecker complained loudly about every little thing he could. From his hooves hurting to being thirsty and needing desperately to stop and take a leak. I was honestly surprised that somepony hadn’t shot him and left him to die in the wasteland long before I’d arrived. Hell, I’d never used a gun in my life and even I wanted to shoot him. His voice was quickly becoming like hooves on a chalkboard.

“Are we there yet?” Wrecker whined, dragging out the ‘yet’ for several seconds. Bruiser’s shoulders bunched up tightly under his armor as he fought a very real urge to-

“THAT’S IT!!” someone shouted. The group froze and turned as Daydream launched herself at Wrecker like a pink torpedo. The stallion shrieked as they collided, tumbling end over end before coming to a stop with Wrecker on his back, pinned to the dirt by Daydream as she smashed her hooves against his face. He wiggled a hoof free and futilely attempted to shield himself from her raging blows.

“Years! Years I’ve dealt with you!” she screamed, tears running down her cheeks, her purple mane sticking to them in wet clumps. “Your snide comments! Your filthy habits! Your unwanted touch! Your very presence is an affront to the Goddesses!” She continued to hammer him with blows, as she sobbed. Everyone watched in shock as the formerly timid mare pummeled the hardened raider with wanton abandon. Jerry was the one who shook herself from the daze and rushed forward. She bit down on Daydream’s mane and dragged her off Wrecker. Even when she was free she thrashed as though she were still pummeling him, sobbing all the while. Jerry spit out her mane and pulled the poor mare into a tight embrace. Daydream twisted and returned it as she melted down.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Jerry cooed, “It’s okay…”

Stitch trotted past them, over to Wrecker and nudged him with a hoof. He groaned and sniffled, wiping blood from his split lip and swollen nose. As he started to sit up Stitch placed a hoof on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“W-what’s this about ‘unwanted touching’, r-ruh-Wrecker?” she asked, glaring down at him. Wrecker blinked his rapidly swelling eye as he stared up at her.

“Ain’t done nuddin’,” he said. He turned his head to the side and snorted out a wad of bloody snot into the dirt. He gave a few test sniffs and then turned back to Stitch. “She’s just a crazy mare.”

“R-right. The normally quiet and d-docile mare…” she said, her horn flaring into a blue glow.

“Yeah, she… wait, what’re you doing?” Wrecker asked. A syringe levitated into Wrecker’s view, enveloped in her magic. She angled it upward and depressed the plunger, shooting out a stream of brackish liquid.

“R-remember when we had that l-long talk, Wrecker?” she asked. There was no nostalgia in her voice, only menace. Wrecker’s eyes locked on the syringe. “I told you what would happen if-f I even suspected you were up to y-your old shit,” she continued.

“N-now w-wait a second here!” he stammered, struggling to get out from under her hoof. “I didn’t do n-nothin’! Ya gotta believe m-me!”

Stitch narrowed her eyes. The syringe spun around and embedded itself in Wrecker’s neck and she pushed the dark sludge into him all before he could so much as whimper.

“Why would I believe a piece of shit like you?” she asked, taking her hoof off him. Wrecker rolled over, his breathing coming in shorter and shorter gasps. He struggled to his hooves on rubbery legs and looked around frantically. Pale blue foam frothed from the corner of his mouth.

“H-help me!” he croaked, looking at the other slaves. Whenever he tried to take a step towards them, they backed away. His eyes bulged in their sockets as he finally looked at me. He staggered towards me, fell half way and crawled the rest. I didn’t back away as he hooked my hoof with his and looked up at me with wide, terrified eyes. “Heh-heh-help…” he choked. His eyes rolled back into his head and he began to thrash about.

I slipped my hoof free as I took a step back and watched Wrecker spasm in the dirt. Convulsing. Doc had called it convulsing. My heart began to pound in my chest and I glanced over at Jerry. She was staring at Wrecker with wide eyes as painful memories were dragged, screaming to the surface. She stared at him in silent horror as he jerked at my hooves. Suddenly, his head burst like an overripe melon, spilling blood and gray sludge across my legs and the ground. My ears plastered down against my head as my hearing was replaced by a single, loud tone. I shook my head even as I backed away from the body, trying to undo what would likely be permanent damage. I turned and saw Bruiser, his pistol smoking in his magic. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear a word, just a constant, high-pitched whine.

Stitch trotted across the body that still twitched of its own accord and got right up in Bruiser’s face. They were arguing. Ponies didn’t get that kind of angry look on their face from a polite conversation. She shoved her hooves against his chest and he barely moved. Gradually the ringing began to calm and voices began to grow clearer.

“No dammit! I don’t care what you want! He was not your property to dispose of!” Bruiser bellowed. Stitch shoved him again, and again he didn’t move an inch.

“I d-don’t care! I warned h-him! You w-w-wuh-wuh-” Stitch paused, shutting her eyes tight a moment as she forced the words out. “W-were there! You heard me warn him!” she shouted. Bruiser tucked his smoking pistol away.

“Yeah, well, when we get back you can explain to Fortune why our quota is down. Let’s go, we have a nerd to find,” Bruiser said as he turned his back on Stitch and continued heading east. Slowly the others began to peter off after him until it was Jerry, Daydream, Stitch and myself. Stitch stood between us, shaking with barely controlled rage. Her horn flared to life and a second syringe pulled itself free of her saddlebag. Without hesitation, she jabbed the needle into her leg and injected herself with the contents. Gradually the enraged look in her eyes was replaced with a half-lidded, glassy stare.

“Are you… okay?” I asked, slowly approaching her. She turned her head in my direction and offered me a weak smile.

“Fine now,” she said quietly. She slowly turned back towards Jerry and Daydream and offered them her hoof. “Come now, before Bruiser gets any angrier.” The trio slowly stood and started after the rest, leaving me standing alone. I took a moment to glance down at Wrecker’s corpse and then turned and followed.

The group ambled to a stop and stared at what lay before us. We were eerily silent now, save for the odd sniffle from Daydream.

“Think he’s. In there?” Fricassee wheezed. Bruiser’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders bunched up in a shrug. Before us sat a large building that easily dwarfed anything The Dig had to offer. The ages had not been kind to her. Pockmarks from any number of things dotted its age-bleached surface and rust stains reached towards the ground from the aging metal fixtures. Above the doors that had long since fallen from their frames was a pattern of stains that stretched across the entrance. They were all that gave any external clues to this building’s purpose, but were rendered half worthless from the ravages of time.

B...ds ...A...cheo…gy M...um

“Haven’t seen anything else in hours, if he’s not, I think we’ll be short another slave,” Bruiser responded as he glanced over his shoulder in my direction. Given the screaming match he’d had with Stitch, I very much doubted his words were for more than intimidation. He drew his pistol and trudged towards the entrance. “You and Stitch send in the slaves after me, but stay at the door, I don’t want anyone getting past you.”

Fricassee nodded and waved everyone forward and into the building. I expected it to be dark inside, but lights still flickered with life, casting strange shadows across peeling walls.

“Oh, this is giving me all sorts of bad feelings…” Bruiser muttered as he drew his pistol and stepped inside.

The entryway was a cavernous space that might have once been grand, but now lent to the broken-down appearance. The whole place stank of mildew, rot, and dust and somewhere within I could hear water dripping with a rhythmic precision. Our hoofsteps echoed faintly through the yawning hall as we approached a crumbling central desk. Scattered debris littered the floor and a crusty layer of dried and rotten wood flooring crackled with each step.

“What was this place?” Snazzy muttered, his head tilted back as he stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “Some sort of palace?”

“In the Badlands? Not likely…” Crackers responded.

Maybe it was divine providence deigning to answer a mortal’s question. Or maybe it was pre-war tech that somehow still functioned two centuries later. Either way, speakers recessed into the ceiling squealed into life as a message began to play.

“Welc-c-c-c-come to the Badlands Arche-e-e-e-eology Museum,” a stallion’s voice called, “Where the past comes alive! Please, step-p-p-p-p up to the reception desk for your free tour, sponsored by Robronco!”

“What’s arc-eology?” Onyx muttered softly.

“Back before the world ended, ponies would dig up relics from the past,” Bruiser commented dryly. From the back of the group I saw Daydream’s ears perk up.

“L-like scavenging?” she chimed in from Jerry’s side. Her voice seemed a bit lighter, like pummeling Wrecker had released the pent up rage, frustration and fear that I guess all slaves had bottled up inside. Bruiser chuckled.

“Sure, why not?” he muttered. Daydream’s ears fell and she lowered her head a bit as she retreated back into herself. And then there’s always a slaver to drive that cork right back into that bottle and make sure you know your place.

As we slowly approached the desk, a pair of doors to the side opened and a familiar metal form puttered out.

“Doc?” I called curiously.

“That’s not our robot. That’s just another of the same model,” Bruiser said as the robot came to a stop behind the desk. Even as he said it I was starting to notice the differences. This robot was much more stained and rusted than Doc was. It also wasn’t missing one of its eyestalks as all three turned and focused on us.

“Ah, hel-looo. My, it is so much busier today than normal! Can I interest you folks in a tour as well?” the robot asked in the same voice as Doc. Bruiser stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“As well?” he asked, “We’re not the first ones through today?”

“Oh my, no. You would be the second. The first gentlecolt came for a tour about two hours ago,” it replied jovially. Bruiser glanced over his shoulder at me and smirked before looking back at the robot.

“Brown stallion with glasses? About this tall,” Bruiser asked, holding out his hoof to indicate height, “With a pip-buck on his leg?”

“Yes! Was he a friend of yours? Oh, he asked the most delightful questions. It made this old robot feel useful again. I’ve had such a difficult time maintaining the exhibits, you know. My primary function is to be a tour guide, not an entire maintenance staff all rolled into one,” the robot said, gesturing with its jointed arms at the state of the building.

“Uhhh… right,” Bruiser said, “Is my friend still here by chance?”

“I do believe so. Last I saw him, he was heading off towards the Ancient Equestrian History exhibits,” The tour guide said, pointing down an adjacent hallway. “I called for him to be careful as we’re currently dealing with a rather… difficult problem, but he seemed lost in thought.”

Bruiser peered down the hallway and then looked back towards the robot. “What sort of problem?” he asked.

“The previous visitors to the museum seem to have gone quite out of their minds since they first arrived. They began to attack the other curators, so I had no choice but to seal them in the Eastern Wing. I’m sorry to say that with a lack of proper maintenance, those seals have been broken. Thankfully, none of those guests have ventured to this area of the museum.”

Bruiser nodded carefully and turned to jab a hoof at Daydream. “Go and fetch the girls. We’ll be needing them in here,” he said. Daydream nodded and trotted back towards the entrance as Bruiser turned back towards the waiting robot. “We need to find our friend, so we’ll be heading down that way. Can you guide the rest of our group here along behind us? They have a tendency to wander off if not... closely supervised…” he added after a moment’s pause.

“Ah, so you’ll be needing one of our special needs tours. That can certainly be arranged,” the tour guide said cheerfully. The robot drifted around the reception desk and positioned itself in front of the group as Daydream returned with Stitch and Fricassee. “Gather ‘round now everypony,” the guide said, gesturing for us to move closer. Furtive glances were cast towards Bruiser as he and the girls prepared their weapons. Cautiously we stepped forward between two of its outstretched arms.

“Do hold still, it has been some time since I’ve used my field generator or received proper maintenance,” it said. Small talismans set into the robot’s arms flickered as magical energy was shunted through them. A purple barrier sprang into existence around us, causing us all to huddle together. I reached out with a hoof and it stopped against the barrier. It was every bit as solid as the floor was.

“We’ll be going on ahead, please watch over our… special needs ponies for us,” Bruiser called with far too big a grin as the trio started through the doors leading to the Eastern Wing.

“W-wait a minute!” I called, causing them to stop and look back towards us. “What about us? What do we do if the ferals attack us? We’re unarmed.” There was a murmured chorus of agreements from the others.

A wicked smile cut across Bruiser’s features. “Try your best to look unappetizing,” he said as he turned his back on us once more.

“Asshole…” I hissed through clenched teeth and glanced back at the others. Everyone had the same look of trepidation I did. “We’ll be alright,” I said as confidently as I could manage. Hopefully, the barrier could keep things out as well as in.

“Alright, everypony! If you’ll follow just follow me, I will take you on an exciting tour through the ages!” our guide said excitedly as it slowly drifted after Bruiser’s group. We followed after, compelled by the barrier when we were hesitant as we walked into the Eastern Wing. Bruiser, Stitch, and Fricassee disappeared around a corner ahead of us as we stopped in front of a peeling wall.

“Ancient Equestrian history is a vast reservoir of information that we have only just begun to tap into. History was ancient long before the Princesses rose to power, you know. And it is something that many ponies have dedicated their lives to unraveling,” it intoned as we looked at fading murals depicting regal winged beings tinted purple by the barrier.

“The Goddesses…” whispered Jerry as she stared at the images with wide eyes.

“During this tour, you will see artifacts from several thousand years before the Princesses formed the Equestria we know and love today. Just this way,” he said as he started down the corridor again. From up ahead I heard the roar of Bruiser’s cannon, the chattering of Stitch’s rifle, and the throaty cough of Fricassee’s flamethrowers. I glanced at the tour guide, but it seemed as though he was solely focused on being able to do his job once again. We slowed to a crawl as we passed several display cases in various states of disrepair. Trinkets were in each, also in disrepair. Something that looked like a bowl that had been broken in half, tarnished metal coins with symbols too worn to tell what they once were, and so on.

It wasn’t long before Jerry was the only one intently listening to the robot’s droning speeches. For the most part, we moved when it moved and stopped when it stopped. I’d briefly glance at whatever curio or trinket it began to explain and then return to staring down the corridor. The corner the others had disappeared down was just ahead, and the sickly smell of burnt meat was quickly becoming more and more noticeable.

“Here in the Badlands, archeologists from all across Equus have begun to unearth ancient artifacts from ancient civilizations that we had no idea existed until a few years ago. Why, beneath this very wing we’ve recently unearthed cairn stones from roughly four thousand years before the Princesses came to power! Isn’t that incredible?”

Wait a minute-

“Excuse me,” I said cheerfully. The robot’s eyes focused on me.

“Yes, my good sir! Do you have a question?”

“Actually, I was wondering if our friend was told about the dig downstairs?”

The guide was quiet for a moment as its eyes turned to glance down the corridor before turning back to me.

“I believe I did actually. He was rather inquisitive about it as I recall and asked to see it. Unfortunately, the dig site is active and is not available for tours. Now, if you’ll follow me this way, you’ll get to see more remnants from pre-history of Equestria!” The guide continued on, but when we approached the branching hallway, it turned and proceeded down the corridor in the opposite direction of Bruiser and the others.

“W-wait, where are you taking us?” Snazzy asked, glancing over his shoulder at the direction the slavers had cleared of ferals.

“To the next leg of the tour of course!” the guide said cheerfully.

“Um… shouldn’t we follow our… friends?” Caramel asked, forcing a grin as she spoke.

“I’m afraid your friends have started at the end of the tour route. Worry not. We will catch up to them somewhere in the middle. Now, who is ready to see pottery from the 3rd Griffon Dynasty?” he said as we approached a set of doors. He reached out with his thin, rusting limbs and opened the doors to the next area. Beyond them was a nearly black void. The guide paused momentarily, its eyes whirring and clicking as it looked around.

“Oh dear. It looks like maintenance is needed in here as well,” he muttered. His three eyes lit up shining a weak, yellowed glow into the darkness. “I’m afraid we’ll need to cancel the tour until maintenance can be contacted to repair the lights in this area.”

At the edge of the meek light, a pair of yellowed orbs flared into life. They bobbed side to side in the darkness. I took a step forward and peered into the dark. “What are those?” I muttered. I leaned forward trying to make something out of the darkness and narrowed my eyes. The orbs narrowed right back. Then another pair appeared. And another. And another.

“Oh shit…”

A chorus of desiccated throats unleashed a cry of anguished rage and pain as the ferals charged out of the dark and lunged at the shield. We returned the favor with a chorus of panicked shrieks and screams as they bounced off its flickering surface. They scrambled to their hooves and laid into the shield, scratching at it with cracked and broken hooves. As I watched a feral lunged out of the darkness. It couldn’t have been much older than a foal. It smashed its head against the barrier once. Twice. On the third strike, it’s head split in two like a melon and coated the barrier in foul-smelling grey gunk. Thick yellowed sludge dripped from slacked jaws, flared nostrils, and sunken eyes as more and more ghouls emerged from the darkness.

These were ponies?

“I say! You lot settle down! You are interrupting a tour in progress! Security has been notified and is undoubtedly on its way here now!” our guide said as it was pummeled by the mass of ghouls. Its rusting metal chassis buckled under the blows and sparks shot from something inside of it. In response, one of its eyes flickered and died. “You vandals! Cease this immediately!”

If they understood the robot’s words they gave no indication as two bit down on his thrashing arm and began to pull all of us deeper into the room. Daydream and Caramel were screaming, their backs flat against their barrier and their hooves scraping for purchase on the floor.
“What’re we gonna do? What’re we gonna do!?” Onyx screamed as more and more ghouls battered against the magical shield.

“We’re going to die! Those assholes left us to die!!” Baker shouted as he beat his hooves against the back of the barrier. Baker and Crackers bucked at the purple barrier while Sandy Shadow held her head in her hooves and rocked back and forth. Jerry stood in the middle of the group as it quickly descended into panic and chaos. Her eyes were locked on me, looking to me for some kind of idea or answer. I felt my heart pounding in my chest and I knew that I had to do something. For her. I turned and looked at the robot as it fought valiantly to keep its arm attached to the rest of its body. A losing battle judging by the agitated whine the limb was making.

“Mister Tour Guide!” I shouted. One of the two remaining eyes focused on me.

“I’m terribly sorry, young sir, but I’m rather engaged with these hooligans at the moment,” it said. The others began to look my direction as the robot resumed shouting at the ferals to no effect.

“But Mister Tour Guide! We… uh…” My mind drew a blank. We what? We don’t want to die? We don’t want to be eaten? What could I say that would get this bucket of loose bolts to drop the magical barrier? “...we… we need to go to the bathroom!” Both the robot’s eyes turned and focused on me.

“I’m sorry?” he said, as if unsure of what he just heard. I swear even one of the ferals had stopped to give me a strange look.

“We need to go real bad! Right now! Please let us go to the bathroom!” I shouted with increased urgency.

“I’m terribly sorry, little ponies. I promise I will escort you to the restrooms once I’ve successfully corralled these ruffians.” the guide said.

“But… if you make us wait any longer, I’ll just explode!” I shouted.

“My word,” the robot said, focusing all of its eyes on me, “I had no idea the situation was so dire. Far be it from me to deny someone their basic pony rights. The restroom is back the way we came on the left. Please wait there for me and I’ll be along shortly.” The barrier flashed and dissipated in an instant. The ghoul ponies attacking it suddenly fell forward and got tangled with one another.

“Run! Go!” I shouted as I turned on the spot. Hooves scrabbled against the floor for purchase as we ran back the way we’d come. With his arms now free, the tour guide extended them outwards and barred the way in front of the ferals. Several remained focused on it, battering his frame with their hooves or biting down wherever they could. Despite the target in front of them, more than a dozen gave chase, loping on withered limbs that didn’t seem like they’d be capable of carrying anypony.

It’s okay! The entrance isn’t far, we’ll get outside and put some real distance between us and them! Then we’ll all be free! I thought as I glanced back towards the ferals.

Onyx lagged behind, constantly looking over her shoulder at the gnashing teeth and rotting mouths that hungrily pursued after her. She let out a shriek of terror as one snapped its jaws closed just shy of her rear and put on a burst of speed that would’ve made a pegasus proud and easily caught her up to us. Then her hoof came down on a loose tile that slipped forward as she put her weight into the step. Time slowed to a crawl. Her eyes widened as she pitched forward and her hooves flew out from under her. Time returned to normal as she hit the ground. She scraped across the floor painfully, a cloud of dust rising from the unkempt floor as she slid to a stop.

“Dammit!” I shouted and darted towards her. Jerry skidded to a halt as I passed her and turned to follow me. “Get Onyx out of here!” I shouted back at her as I leapt across Onyx’s prone form and planted myself between her and the ferals. I’d never fought before, but I’d witnessed fighting in the slave pens and experienced beatings my entire life. As the first one approached, I reared back and brought both hooves down on the top of its skull. Fouled flesh peeled beneath my hooves as I drove its head into the tile floor with a wet crunch. Something thick and warm engulfed my hooves, but before I could think about it, I was twisting to kick out at the next ghoul. I felt something give way and the feral howled as it was lifted from the floor to land in a heap a few feet away.

I heard Jerry urging Onyx up, but couldn’t take my eyes from the mass of teeth and putrid flesh bearing down on us. “C’mon, Onyx! We have to move, now!”

“M-my leg! It hurts so bad!” Onyx cried. I glanced back quickly to see Onyx leaning heavily against Jerry’s flank. Then I felt broken teeth sink into my shoulder. I screamed, instinctively pulled away, and felt the teeth tear free of my hide, or rather, tear a piece of my hide free.

“Free!” Jerry screamed.

“Get her clear, Jerry! NOW!” I shouted as I barreled into the offending feral and drove it into the floor with my wounded shoulder. Pain lanced through me as the beast crumpled beneath me. I rolled to my hooves as quick as I was able before they could pile onto me and spell my doom. That last move had cost me my positioning. Three ghouls staggered into the space between me and the path to freedom, their attention laser focused on me.

“Well, if I can’t go that way.” I turned and my eyes bulged in their sockets as an open mouth filled my view. I fell backwards as a ghoul snapped its mouth shut just shy of my face. I scrambled to my hooves and shouldered it aside as I darted down the corridor. I heard animalistic growls and the clamour of hooves hot on my tail, but dared not look back again. With each step the smell of burnt meat grew more intense. Blackened husks laid on the floor or slumped against the walls, limbs contorted and bodies shriveled from the heat. There was a bend in the hallway ahead and I hoped they’d be somewhere within spitting distance just past it.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” I hissed through clenched teeth as I leapt over a body that still smoldered and darted around the corner. I was greeted by a hallway full of destroyed relics, dead and burned corpses, and Fricassee standing at the end of it, casually burning a ghoul to cinders. I never thought I’d be so glad to see a slaver. “Fricassee!” I screamed. Her head turned towards me, forever rendered impassive from her breather and her goggles. She turned in my direction and took a couple of steps. She was actually going to help me! She was-

Flame spilled down the corridor with a hungry roar. It licked across glass display cases, causing them to shatter and the contents within to burn. I winced as the heat began to wash over me and threw myself to the floor. The flames burned overhead, and I screamed as I felt my skin blister and cook on my body. The ghouls behind me shrieked an unholy chorus, thrashing out blindly as their eyeballs burst in their sockets. One by one they dropped to the floor and their bodies grew still, but I was too preoccupied by my blistered flesh to pay them much attention. The air burned with each breath and if I so much as thought of moving it felt as though my hide would peel off my very bones.

Fricassee strode over to me, the burners on her flamers guttering with each step. Her horn flared into a lavender glow and a small round bottle pulled free of her pack and floated over to me. The stopper wriggled free and she held the bottle over my head. I took a moment to focus on it and then to glance at her.

“Drink,” she said, and jammed the bottle in my mouth. I choked on the purple liquid, a generous amount spraying from my mouth as I swallowed as much as I could. I felt the pain ebb as seared and blistered flesh reverted to a healthy pink that slowly sprouted new fuzz. The wound in my shoulder gradually knit itself closed with no hint that it even existed at all. I carefully pushed myself to my hooves, spat out the bottle, and wiped my mouth on the back of my foreleg.

“Th-thanks,” I croaked. She nodded wordlessly and tucked the empty bottle back into her bag.

“Where are. The others?” she asked as she strode over to one of the ghouls that had been chasing me and stomped its skull open. Steaming sludge spilled onto the floor and she nodded approvingly before moving onto the next.

“Our guide took us down the other hallway. It was crawling with ferals. We managed to break out of the barrier and run. The others ran for the exit while I drew the ferals off,” I said. Fricassee tensed and slowly turned her head to glare at me over her shoulder.

“You let. Them. Escape?!” she growled, her voice sounding rougher than normal. I narrowed my eyes and glared right back at her.

“Hey, I’m not part of the group that left the defenseless slaves all ALONE. Any blame here is squarely on you and your slaver pals,” I said, pointing a hoof at her.

For a long moment I feared she was going to burn me alive like she had the ghouls. Then her pilot lights extinguished and she growled, low and angry. “Wise-ass,” she rasped as she turned her back on me. “C’mon then. Need to. Tell Bruise.”

I was hesitant to follow. I glanced back over my shoulder at the now empty hallway. Safety was just a brief trot away. Freedom. A life with Jerry within reach. So what compelled me to follow her? To stay, if only a few minutes longer? I turned after Fricassee and trotted after her. Around the next bend were more dead ferals. Unlike the blackened husks behind me, these ones had sizeable holes punched into their withered torsos and portions of their skulls blasted into unsolvable and slimy puzzles. At the center of the chaos stood Stitch, breathing heavily. She was bleeding from a bite wound to her shoulder and her face bore several cuts and scratches that dripped blood onto the tile floor. Her rifle floated next to her, smoke billowing from the angry red barrel.

“Stitch?” I called out as we stepped towards her. She spun as we approached, raising her rifle. I tensed, staring into the same hard eyes she’d worn when she killed Wrecker. Then she relaxed, the barrel dipping back towards the floor.

“Duh-don’t sneak up on m-me like that, I could’ve b-buh-blasted you into bloody shreds!” she shouted loudly. I opened my mouth but Fricassee held out her hoof and I quieted. Her horn flared into life and another healing potion was freed from her saddlebag and waggled in the air at Stitch, whose eyes brightened as she took the proffered bottle with her own magic and choked it down. The bruises on her face began to fade and the cuts knit themselves back together as the potion took effect. A moment later she winced and shook her head, opening and closing her jaw.

“Better now?” Fricassee asked. Stitch blinked a few times and nodded.

“Y-yes. As-suh-sault rifles and s-small spaces don’t m-muh-mix,” she said as she looked me up and down. She pointed a hoof at me and cast a questioning glance at Fricassee, who answered with a shrug. Her brow rose and she turned to me once more. “W-why are you a-alone?”

I quickly recounted the events of the last few minutes to her, complete with the reminder that it was their fault for leaving us watched by a robot that probably didn’t have more than a history book’s knowledge of slaving. Like Fricassee, she too relented, of which I was quite thankful for. I didn’t relish the thought of ending up like Wrecker.

“We’ll need t-to tell B-Bruiser,” she said, her ears falling. Fricassee shook her head.

“Don’t look. At me. I like. Living,” she rasped.

Oh, I bet I can tell where this is going…

Slowly, the pair looked at me.

I fucking knew it!

“No. No fucking way,” I said, pointing my hoof at them. “This is your guys’ fault. Not mine. I’m not eating a bullet for you.”

“Y-you might anyway,” Stitch responded with a shrug. “H-he’s already shot wuh-one slave today.”

I let out a sigh and lowered my head. Bruiser didn’t seem the type to take bad news well; what she was saying probably wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. I glanced at the duo and thought through my chances of running from them. Between the flamethrowers and the rifle I came up with a possibility of ‘Ha ha! Nope!’.

“Fine. Where is the bastard?” I asked.

“He w-went looking f-for the n-nuh-nerd,” Stitch said, gesturing down the hall with the barrel of her rifle. “Th-that way.” I trotted past the pair with a roll of my eyes. I vaguely heard the two talking as I brushed past.

“Twenty caps. Bruiser kills him,” Fricassee muttered.

“N-no bet,” Stitch replied, “C-cuz we’ll b-be next if h-he does.”

Bruiser’s trail wasn’t hard to follow. Every now and then I’d hear the roar of his cannon and simply head in that direction. I knew I was on the right track with each blasted and splattered feral corpse I stepped over or through. The hallway led to a large, open chamber at the heart of which stood the bones of a great and terrifying beast held aloft with wire and metal. It was massive, easily capable of swallowing up a pony in one go, and, given the mouth full of conical teeth, getting swallowed whole would’ve been better than the alternative. Hanging from the rafters around it were faded and tattered banners, their proclamations lost to the ravages of time. Around the edges of the room were smaller display cases, shattered and broken, their contents destroyed or looted long ago. Three separate paths branched from the rotunda.

I stopped beneath the skeletal beast and waited, expecting to hear Bruiser’s pistol fire off again shortly. When I did, the sound echoed through the chamber. Despite my best effort, I could not figure out which of the three corridors it had come from. I waited through three more shots and then blew out a lungful of air.

“Well that’s just perfect…” I muttered, glancing around. I was debating choosing at random when I felt something akin to an ice cold hoof being drawn slowly down the length of my spine. I tensed and spun around, expecting to see something there, but there was nothing. I glanced around nervously, and then up at the bones that hung well over my head.

“Right… it’s just… this place is all. Must be some kind of old air system that's busted…” I muttered with a shake of my head. A furtive glance upward proved that untrue. The tattered banners were still, the perfect addition to the tomb that surrounded the heavy bones of the beast.

...over here…

I tensed and swallowed the lump of fear in my throat. The voice had been low and breathy, almost as though it had been whispered right into my ear. I slowly craned my neck and glanced over my shoulder.

Nothing.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, pressing a hoof against it. Maybe I was going mad. Clearly something was off. Why else would I have stayed instead of escaping with the others? I thought of Jerry escaping to freedom and living out her days in some quiet settlement. I wanted so badly to be with her for those days. And yet… something was compelling me to stay; something that now had a voice.

Slowly, I opened my eyes again, praying there would be nothing there. I found myself looking down one of the branching corridors, an empty corridor, and let out a sigh of relief. Still, I felt something tugging at me, beckoning me further. Despite my growing apprehension, I complied. As far as I could tell, there was nothing particularly special about this corridor. There were some more displays, though these bore crude and hastily scrawled messages in faded paint. I read them as I trotted closer. ‘The End Is The Here!’ proclaimed one. ‘Fuck the Zebras!’ stated another in the same hasty script. Judging by the broken and empty displays beneath each message, I figured the hastily scrawled writing wasn’t the author’s sole purpose for being here.

...this way…

My ears twitched and I glanced further down the corridor. I chewed my bottom lip and looked back briefly. “This is going to get my dumb ass killed…” I muttered as I slowly continued down the corridor. It ended quickly at a door marked ‘Authorized Ponies Only’. The latch was broken off; the door left open a crack. Beyond it was a descending stairwell.

...you are needed, Free…

My heart pounded in my chest as I took the stairwell deeper. Whoever… whatever was talking to me, was using my name. Again my thoughts turned to madness. Perhaps I’d lost myself and was becoming as psychotic as a raider. I licked my lips and dared to respond, if only a little.

“Wh-who are you?” I whispered.

...everything…nothing....

Great, now the voices were answering me. That can’t be a sign of anything good. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I stopped and took in my surroundings. Down here it was dark and humid. It stank of mold, mildew, and dust. From somewhere nearby I could hear a constant trickling of water hitting the floor. There were no display cases down here, just empty hallways with doors leading into different rooms. There was something else too. A sound all too familiar.

The sound of ponies working.

“Why should I trust you?” I muttered as I crept in the direction of the noise. Once again the hallway ended at a door marked ‘Authorized Ponies Only’. The sounds of a half dozen tools coming from within.

...because we trust you…

We? Great… I’m crazier than I thought. There were apparently multiple disembodied voices talking to me.

I pressed a hoof against the door and pushed it open a crack. The noise of exhausted breathing and metal striking stone spiked sharply. The room appeared half finished, with a concrete floor that ended abruptly in an earthen pit. Just below the lip of the pit was a half broken statue of a winged pony, its head conspicuously missing. Beyond that were three large, rectangular stones half buried in the ground. A dozen ponies labored furiously with picks, shovels, and bare hooves; exhaustively attempting to get through solid rock. I recognized the leather barding of one of them. I’d seen a hoof-ful of slavers around The Dig in similar armor. I’d found Cutthroat. She scraped her hooves at the loose scree, brushing it out of the way as one of the others, a slave judging by the whipping scars, hurriedly stabbed at the stone with a rusting and very damaged shovel. At the center of the group, a pickaxe clenched in his teeth was Dig Deep, aggressively hacking at the stone like he was attempting to kill it.

“What the f-” I whispered as I took a couple steps back and bumped into something armored and so very angry. I felt a pistol barrel jab roughly into my temple as I tried to look over my shoulder.

“What the fuck are you doing down here, slave?!” barked Bruiser.

“Bruiser! Shhh, there’s-” I breathed. Bruiser brought his pistol down hard against my head with a loud crack. My vision dimmed and I went down to my knees.

“Shut your goddess-damned mouth! What the fuck are you doing down here? Where are the others?” he barked again. I blinked rapidly until things regained their sharpness and then I twisted to looked up at him.

“Bruiser! Shut the fuck up! They’ll hear-”

Why is it suddenly so quiet?

My throat suddenly stuck as I watched Bruiser’s eyes narrow, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was staring at the door to the dig site. The door that now stood open, and all dozen ponies stood staring at us. Dig Deep and Cutthroat stood at the center, looking us over with half-lidded eyes. Bruiser’s eyes darted between the pair and his gun dipped slightly. Up close the group stank up sweat, piss and shit. Their flesh was drawn tight across their sides and along their ribs and cheeks. None of them blinked.

“Cutty, you stupid bitch. Where have you been?” Bruiser asked, his voice wavering just a bit. I slowly got to my hooves, blood dripping down my temple, and stood next to Bruiser. He made no move to stop me this time. Even he could sense something was wrong.

“You both look big and strong…” someone in the back said flatly.

“What?” Bruiser asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“Mmmm yes, you’ll both do nicely,” Dig Deep added as one by one the group took a step forward. Bruiser and I took one back.

“Cutty?” Bruiser asked, his pistol raising slightly. The mare’s eyes narrowed into a scowl.

“Get them!” she barked. Three ponies rushed forward to close the gap, their hooves outstretched. The two of us backpedaled, putting some distance between us and the group we were supposed to be rescuing. Bruiser’s pistol roared and a green pony’s head burst apart in a spray of jellied brain and blood. The body collapsed to the floor in a twitching heap. The other two stepped over it as if it was simply scattered trash, causing us to back up further. Too late I noticed we’d backed up past the stairs I’d descended a moment ago. Panic began to take over my mind and my eyes darted to Bruiser, the others, and my surroundings as my mind raced to figure out a course of action.

“You sons of bitches want some of me?!” Bruiser roared. His pistol barked again, a great bloody rent appearing in the shoulder of the nearest pony. She tumbled to the floor, landing face first with a loud thwack. Slowly, she stood up, favoring her uninjured side and continued forward.

“Bruiser!” I called, my voice tight with urgency.

“What?!” He asked as he snapped off another shot that punched into a mare’s belly with a spray of crimson but little effect.

“BRUISER!” I shouted louder. Finally, he turned to me.

“WHAT?!” he shouted.

“RUN!” I turned and galloped at full speed down the corridor, passing the stairs that I knew would take me back up. My heart was pounding and each thump within my chest caused lights to dance in front of my eyes. There were more gunshots but I didn’t bother looking to see if Bruiser was following me. Either way I didn’t care. Something was decidedly off about Cutthroat and her ponies. They had looked malnourished and exhausted, but still they’d kept digging at those stones.

I shook my head. There would be time enough to think about that nonsense later. Right now I was done. Done with Bruiser. Done with this place. Done with being a slave. I skidded to a stop as I spotted a sign for a stairwell next to a door. A quick test of the handle showed it to be locked. I spun in place and lashed out with as strong a kick as I could muster. The door was ancient, but steel ages well. My kick rattled the door on its hinges and left a large dent in its surface. I could hear the thundering of hooves coming down the corridor, punctuated by the bark of Bruiser’s gun.

“C’mon! C’mon!” I hissed as I kicked out again. Rusting screws ripped from the wall as the door bowed in the middle. I cast a quick glance back the way I’d come from just in time to see Bruiser come bolting around the corner.

“Get the damn door open!” he screamed as he blindly fired behind him.

“Fuck you! I’m trying!” I shouted back as I struck out one more time. The door staved in and the hinges tore completely from the wall as the whole assembly clattered noisily to the floor. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as the path to freedom stood open. Then Bruiser’s bulky frame obscured it as he moved into the newly opened door.

“Stall them,” he said.

‘Stall them? Wh-”

Pain. A spear of crystalline agony lanced through me as I toppled to the floor. Blood spurted from the new hole punched in my right foreleg as I screamed. Bruiser’s smoking pistol rose into view as he sneered at me and turned away.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” I screamed after him. Gritting my teeth, I folded my injured leg against my chest as tight as I could manage, and struggled to my hooves. Each and every movement I made sent a shock of pain through me as my blood shot from the wound in time with my pounding heart. I staggered slowly up the stairs as darkness began to creep along the edges of my vision. I made it to the first landing and slumped against the wall. I looked down at the floor and stared at the rapidly growing trail of blood I was leaving in my wake. “Ffffuck…” I muttered as I pushed myself to continue. I heard the ponies coming closer, their hoofsteps growing louder in my ears until it sounded like they were right on top of me.

C’mon! Jerry’s waiting for you, you dumb bastard… You just gotta move…

“I… I’m getting out… of this shhhhhit hole…” I muttered as I staggered up the next set of stairs. If felt like I was slogging through knee deep sludge, each step taking a monumental effort. A door stood between me and the first floor, but judging by the smoking lock, Bruiser had taken care of it for me. I reached out to push it open, and fell against it. I spilled out into the corridor and could go no further. I lay on the floor, the sweat from my climb cooling my body slowly. I was just… so tired. Even lifting my head seemed impossible and my eyelids were growing heavier by the second. A blurry pair of hooves stepped into view and stopped just in front of my face.

“Pity. Find the other,” a voice said and the hooves moved away as all the sound became dull, like I’d been submerged in a pool. I tried lifting my head, but found the task far more difficult than it had any right to be. Blackness creeped further and further across my vision until it consumed it entirely.

...Not yet…It’s not time yet...

“Free!”

My eyes shot open and I drew in a deep breath. A shock of red mane and an angelic face greeted me as I slowly lifted my head.

“J-Jerry?” I muttered. Jerry looked down at me, her face a mixture of relief and growing panic. I moved my hooves beneath my body, sending an empty glass bottle spinning away, and began to stand. Jerry’s eyes widened as she looked at me. She hurriedly pressed her body to my right side and helped push me to my hooves.

“L-lean on me! C’mon, we’ve got to move! I think they’re coming back,” she said hurriedly. I leaned on her and she grunted with the added weight as, together, we staggered down the hall. “What happened to you? Who shot you?” she asked, her eyes darting back and forth, scanning for something.

“Found the bookworm. A-and the missing team. They were working on the dig site the robot mentioned. They attacked us and Bruiser shot me so he could get away,” I hissed through clenched teeth. I glanced down at the wound in my leg, the flowing blood had stanched, becoming a lazy trickle and a shadow of its previous grievousness.

“What? Why?” she asked. Suddenly her ears perked up and she started to push harder against me. “Free, get in there!” she grunted as we veered into a bathroom. The door creaked open and we were both assailed by the pungent scent of mildew. Sickly, green-brown fuzz coated the walls and fallen tiles and debris littered the floor. Jerry looked around in worry and she glanced at my gunshot. She waited a moment, her ears flitting back and forth for several seconds before she exhaled slowly. “H-here, lean against the wall a minute,” she said as she tipped me against wall. I nodded and kept my bloodied limb curled up against me as she hurriedly rushed around the room.

“What’re you still doing here?” I asked. She paused momentarily, fixing me with a strange look, before shaking it off and resuming her search.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she ran her hoof through a pile of broken wall tiles on the floor.

“I mean, why didn’t you run? You were free and Fortune’s too cheap for exploding collars…”

A snort and a roll of her eyes was her response. She brushed aside more tiles and squealed cheerfully as she uncovered a small metal box with faded yellow paint and a generous helping of rust. A few well-placed smacks with a piece of tile and she managed to open it.

“Aha! Perfect!” she said as she buried her face into the box and deftly removed a small glass bottle with her teeth. She sauntered over, gripped the bottle between her hooves and pulled the cork free before spitting it aside. “Here,” she said, offering the potion to me, “Drink this.” Before I could respond she practically shoved the bottle into my mouth. I choked down the healing potion and relaxed my leg as the wound puckered closed and then disappeared completely. I gave it a few test movements before deciding it was safe to put weight back on it. I spat out the bottle and caught it in my hooves.

“Thanks, Jerry. But you should really save a healing potion for yourself rather than give them all to me,” I said, as I tossed the empty bottle aside. Jerry fixed me with a strange look.

“I didn’t,” she said with a shrug. “I only found the one.” I gave her a quizzical look back and then shrugged it off. There would be time enough to ponder it when we weren’t up to our assholes in ferals, slavers and… crazed slavers? What is going on with Cutthroat and her people? I shook my head again. Later.

“Why are you still here?” I asked again, and once again Jerry rolled her eyes.

“We’re family, Free. I’m not going anywhere without you,” she said, offering me a warm smile. It was infectious and quickly affected my features as well. I reached out and nudged her with a hoof.

“Well, thanks for that. I’m pretty sure I nearly bought it there,” I said, glancing down at where my gunshot had been. “But now we need to get out of here. It’s only a matter of time before something unpleasant finds us.” I moved over to the door and opened it a crack to peer into the hallway. I quickly spied the trail of blood I had left in my wake that ended where I’d collapsed. With no trouble in immediate sight, I pushed open the door and stepped quietly into the hallway. “Which way is out?” I asked as Jerry moved up beside me.

“Not the way we came in. The ferals are swarming it. Apparently this place is just crawling with them,” she replied as she glanced to her right. “I came from that way, so,” she said turning to look past me to the left, “That’s the way we should go.”

“Good enough for me,” I said with a shrug. This part of the museum was in shambles. Display cases lay in splinters under fallen masonry from the ceiling. Further down the hall, a large metal box had dropped through several floors and embedded itself in this one. I cast a quick glance upward as I drew near, spying the gray cloudy sky beyond. It had been in its new resting place long enough that a grey-green fuzz had sprouted from cracks in the floor. Jerry came up alongside me and peered up as well.

“Well, I suppose we could sprout wings and fly out,” Jerry said softly. I rolled my eyes and pressed on. “What? C’mon, it wasn’t that bad a joke!” she added as she followed after me.

“You’re right, but now’s not the time for jokes,” I said as I looked for anything that might, even remotely, be a way out.

The deeper we went into the museum, the worse it became. The lights flickered, threatening to finally die after two centuries. The floor, which I had thought to have been carpeted was just grimy, mold-covered tile. An ancient tapestry, once protected by a thick layer of glass, was little more than a tattered mess of decay and pulp. A case purported to contain gemstones from all across Equestria was smashed open, its contents long since taken.

Worst of all were the dead.

There had to be at least fifty skeletons all along this stretch of the museum. The further we went, the more we saw. To our right, the skeleton of a unicorn slumped against the wall, its head raised up towards the ceiling. I stared at it for a moment, wondering what the last moments of the poor soul had been like. Judging by the piece of rebar running through the ribcage and the notches it left on its way through, I’d guess poor. On the left, a pair lay curled up near a rusting water fountain, their limbs entwined as they held each other as their time came. A trio lay in the middle of the hall, between them lay two empty plastic packets that I’d seen Doc give to ponies when the radiation made them sick.

I glanced around at the other bodies again. Most of them had similar empty packets near them. “These must be the ponies who didn’t become ferals…” I whispered, more to myself than to Jerry. When she didn’t respond I looked in her direction.

She stood stock still, staring wide eyed at a bench tucked into a small alcove. The diminutive frame of a foal lay curled up beneath it. One leg clutching an empty packet close, the other reaching for a moldy old stuffed bear that had been just out of reach. My heart ached just seeing it.
“We should keep moving. This place is giving me the creeps.” I said softly. Jerry stepped closer to the foal’s outstretched limb and sat on the floor. She sniffled, tears running down her cheeks as she gently pushed the stuffed bear closer.

“Here you go little one,” she whispered. She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. “You’re right. We need to get out of here.” She stood and trotted past me as quickly as she could. I cast one last glance at the graveyard, and followed after her.

Footnote: Level Up!
New Perk: Not Today -- Through magical or mundane means you have survived a brief bout with death. You gain an additional 10% damage reduction.

Author's Notes:

Hey everyone! I want to use this space to thank my lovely and talented editor MimosaVendetta, without whom my chapter may as well be scribbled in crayon.

Thank you so much for your help, Mimo

11/7/16: Minor grammar and spelling fixes