.:+:.

Raiders.

That was job that Sheriff Slim of BaleFire town had for me. I was to travel to a school just east of the town and take out the raiders that lived within, he would pay me when I finished the job. Apparently, it was not only DireWolves, Radigators, Radhogs, an undetonated BaleFire Bomb, and other creatures of the Wastes that threatened the little Town of Balefire. Raiders were an issue to, which was something Whiskey was here for. I had learned that it was because he had no trouble shooting Raiders, he had made his way into BaleFire about five years ago. He had been picking them off bit by bit, but there were so many he couldn’t have ever done it alone.

Unfortunately, Whiskey was very well aware that I would not be able to clear out a school full of blood-thirsty raiders all on my lonesome. I couldn’t help but feel that he had lead me to Sheriff Slim in the first place, simply because he knew what job the Sheriff would be giving me. And he knew that I would be needing his help.

What a sly, fucking, annoying buck.

“Helloooo!!! WasteLanders!” The voice of ‘DJPON3’ filtered through the speaker on my PipBuck, having tuned into the signal on my way out of BaleFire. “Here’s your voice in the WasteLand, DJPON3! How is everybody doing this afternoon? I have some news for you all, oh yes I do! In the lands east of BaleFire Town all the way to the base of Old Schattenblitz there have been increased reports of DireWolf activities, anybody out that way should steer clear of traveling at night.”

I blinked once, my head tilting slightly at the last name that had been spoken in some odd accent, Schattenblitz

VVVZZZTTTTT……

Ugh, and there’s that again. The only thing, this time it actually hurt. Yeah, I winced slightly!

“Schattenblitz?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder toward the copper buck following along behind me in my trek toward SpringTail Elementary. I tried to say it in the accent DJ had, and it actually came out pretty close to my surprise. And for the meantime, I was going to ignore my painful short-circuiting brain as best I can.

“Huge mountain’, top reaches up pas’ the cloud curtain. Unexplored, hundreds o’ miles o’ pure wastes in between it, an’ Arabino. Ain’t nopony ever made it to the base, too many DireWolves.” Whiskey replied. “Odd name ah know…. It’s ‘spose ta be….. mmm…… Old Germane Ah think?” His voice sounded slightly muffled, he had put his banana up over his muzzle again.

I looked back ahead. With a Bing…. Schattenblitz was given a point on the map in my PipBuck.

“…….Red Eye’s Slavers have been growing out in FillyDelphia ever since first setting up base now 5-6 years ago, anybody who doesn’t want to be turned into a slave better stay away. Now here’s an interesting piece of information for all of you! As everypony living out in eastern Equestria, you all have your own enemies and worries. From slavers, to raiders, to radiation, and perhaps worst of all, the DireWolves. You know very well that a bite from a DireWolf is very well the end of you, it's rare for anybody to survive, it's been decades since any reported DireWolf bites haven’t ended with a dead pony.” My ears perked at the news reports, eyes widening. “Well do I have something to tell you! I’ve had a report come in recently, the first pony to have been bitten by a DireWolf and lived, in decades has reached my ears! Not only was this pony bitten, but they also made it out of the den of the DireWolves alive! From fleeing from Arabino and managing to get all the way to the northern part of the Manehatten Highway all in only a few hours, this pony even cleared the entire highway full of raiders with DireWolf venom pumping through their veins! Now how about that!”

I came to a stop, my ears pinning back against my head and eyes going wide. Woah, woah, woah! Back up a minute, was DJPON3 talking about me?! Like seriously?! What the hell?! I had only been in the WasteLand for what, four days?! Maybe five?! I hadn’t even been here a week and already somepony had noticed me!? Wait!! Did DJ say I took down a whole highway full of raiders?! The Fuck!? I shot two! Just two! Whiskey did all the rest!

“Hehe…… Looks like DjPON3 has got ya tagged already…” Whiskey chuckled behind me, he had come to a stop as well and I slowly turned to look his way, I could swear he was smirking under that bandana.

“What do you mean tagged?” I asked, “And why the hell is he telling everypony I took out those raiders on the highway? You did all the work!”

Whiskey shrugged, “Ol’ DJ always picks somebody ta talk ‘bout on the station, don’ know how he knows so much, bu’ he’s definitely got a thing fer new folks.” Whiskey replied, heading forward again. “Sometimes its only one, other times he talks ‘bout a few, it’s rather random.” He shook his head. “But he always blows everythin’ out a’ proportion ‘bout tha’ one person.” He shrugged, chuckling slightly. “Ah wouldn’ let it bother ya.”

Wouldn’t let it bother me?! Of course it’s going to bother me!

“….Last report, the Slayers have been taking a stand in Raider territory recently. More raiders have been taken out in the area between Stable 101 and WhiteTail Wood, and now the territory has been claimed by the Slayers. They’ve been slowly advancing toward PonyVille, but have yet to take it back.” Slayers? Who the hell are the Slayers? “Well then my little ponies! This is DJPON3 with your news report for today! Now here’s Sweetie Belle with…..” I turned the Radio off. We had started walking again, and this time Whiskey continued along at my shoulder. He had yet to actually give me back my Sonic Emitter, and I had to admit, I really thought he was planning something smart with me. Just, what exactly?

“So, who are the Slayers?” I asked, glancing toward my temporary companion. “You didn’t mention them earlier.”

“Must a slipped mah mind.” He mumbled. “The Slayers are a band o’ Mercenaries run by a pony named Merger Blade.” Whiskey told me calmly. “They run the biggest work office for Mercs, they handle all the good contracts an’ stick together. They have a base up in a town called CoffinBone ‘bout 50 miles from the Manehatten ruins.” He paused, “…. They ain’t a group ya wanna mess with, best steer clear, an’ not make yerself an enemy.”

I glanced his way quietly, a band of Mercenaries…… Why would that have slipped his mind earlier? He was a Merc himself, this should have been the first thing that came to his mind…..

“Are you part of the Slayers?” I asked slowly.

“No.” Whiskey muttered, his tone clearly telling me to drop it. I looked away, not willing to push it right now.

‘CoffinBone……. CoffinBone…… Flashy, why does that sound so familiar..?’ The Little Me asked suddenly, and I blinked at her voice. She was right, ‘CoffinBone’ did strike me as familiar, I just didn’t know why..

I tapped my PipBuck once, scrolling over the map. While there were only a few markers as of the moment, there were those six that I had from the beginning. I blinked a few times, well, no wonder CoffinBone sounded so damn familiar...

“Zone 2….. hmm……” I mumbled under my breath, looking away from my PipBuck. That was another note to make, apparently the ‘ShieldTune Zone 2 Facility’ was located somewhere in CoffinBone, well… probably somewhere underneath it if it was anything like Arabino and Zone 4.

“’Scuse me?” Whiskey murmured, ears flicking upon hearing me mumble the words.

“Nothing, it's nothing.” I replied evenly, I didn’t see the point to get into it with him. As far as I was concerned, nothing to do with any of the Zones had anything to do with Whiskey. And I intended to keep it that way.

.:+:.

We passed through a small village that had been left to rot and fall apart on our way toward SpringTail. Our hooves clopped against the destroyed pavement underneath us, framework skeletons of once pony homes rose up on either side of us, lining the small street for a few hundred feet. I could see the outline of a rest stop farther up,

Grimy old, moldy, yellowing, and almost completely dissolved paper littered the street, I couldn’t read them if I tried, nor did I particularly care to.

‘Grimy, oldy, moldy, yellowy!’ The Little Me sang, dancing back and forth on her hooves, I shook my head at her a little.

“Hol’ up.” Whiskey murmured, causing me to come to a small stop and glance back at him, blinking.

“For what?” I mumbled, he had turned off the road and approached one of the barely standing structures. His ears flicked in my direction, though he didn’t look my way. “What are you doing?” I asked again, becoming a little miffed at his lack of response-

The contents of the tilted mailbox spilled out onto the ground as Whiskey took the door in his teeth and opened it, rummaging around in the papers, his muzzle sticking into the tin container. My mouth hung open after cutting myself off, eyebrow quirking and head tilting. What did he hope to find in a mailbox? I was pretty sure the postal service stopped about two centuries ago…

“Whoooiiee! Lookie ‘ere, the good stuff!” Whiskey whistled, I could hear his teeth clamp down on to something hard from the back of the mailbox, and he pulled his muzzle free with a bottle of hard Apple Whiskey gripped in his teeth. Whiskey found some whiskey, how weird is that? But why the hell was that stuffed into a mailbox?! “Thank ya Apple Whiskey! Damn is yer stuff good!” He chuckled, dropping the bottle in his saddle bags and trotting past the mailbox and toward the ruin of the house it had been standing outside of.

Apple Whiskey? Is he thanking the bottle? The fuck?!

‘This one’s crazy Flashy, I say shoot him and take all his stuff, we’re better off without him!’ The Little Me said, I frowned at her. Why was she so damn morbid and disgusting? Not to mention rude and stupid? I wouldn’t be able to take care of all the raiders in SpringTail by myself, that’s why he was coming along in the first place, Little Me!

The Little Me huffed and crossed her hooves over her chest. I smirked inwardly at my win.

“Whiskey!” I snapped, the sense of victory disappearing in an instant, “The hell are you doing!? Answer me damn it!”

“Oh Darlin’ did ya already ferget what Ah told ya?” He called back, still smiling though. Damn, he must love Whiskey… that sounds rather conceited, doesn’t it? “Scavengin’! Ya always look in everythin! Never know what ya migh’ find!” Oh yes, because he was going to find something in that pile of destroyed glass, rotting wood, piled up dirt. The damn houses didn’t even have walls, beds, furniture, nothing!

Not Darling! My damn name is not Darling!

I walked forward anyway, shaking my head in irritation. “You know, I was hoping to get to SpringTail by sundown.” I told him crossly, not really caring if he heard me or not. In all honesty, SpringTail was only a ten minute walk from BaleFire, but all these stops was going to make the trip longer, longer than I liked. I took a seat down just outside the foundation of the house, watching the copper buck rifle through the pile, open a half buried refrigerator, and look in the trash bin to boot.

Junk, junk, junk, junk and more junk. He wasn’t going to find anything but junk, and we were just wasting time here. Ugh…… it wasn’t like he was going to listen to me though, nothing I could say would stop him from doing what he wanted.

“Ya know, instead o’ jus’ standin’ there, ya could go look through the other houses.” The buck called over his shoulder to me, giving me a skeptical look. I gave him a flat one in return,

“Yeah, no.” I muttered. “I don’t know what you expect to find anyway, this place is empty. If there was anything here, it would have been cleared out already.” I hadn’t had any problem looking through everything back in Arabino mind you, but his very presence was pissing me off to the point, all I wanted to do was get this damn job over with, get my property back, get paid, and leave his ass far behind.

Whiskey shook his head and turned his flan- ass to me. “Suit yerself.” He muttered. “Ya’d be surprised though, there ar’ plenty o’ things ‘round here….” His voice faded into the background once I tuned him out and turned my attention to my PipBuck. If I was going to have to sit here and wait for him to stop looking through all this junk, I might as well look through those files I picked up in Zone 4.

First, a message sent to Doctor HoofDrum;

Dear HoofDrum,

I cannot thank you enough for the extraordinary service you have given this facility already, the Department of Sound Technologies would be lost without you! I do hope you have found all the funding and resources you need for your research? Should there be any problem, please feel free to contact me, and I’ll have the problem ratified.

I had a few questions on your latest research with the Sonic Emitter, actually. I hope you don’t mind? First off, what do you plan to use as a power source for such a thing? Surely regular Energy Cells would never do with something so advanced?

And second, would you mind sending me a copy of the Wave Files you plan to use to test it? I was wondering if you had anything specific in mind for when you calibrate it?

Once again, thank you so very much for agreeing to work with ShieldTune, and as I’m sure I don’t have to remind you, your secrecy of our actions is most appreciated.

-Katarina

I blinked, so this message was from Katarina herself, the mysterious leader of ShieldTune. Oh how I wished I had a picture of her, or at least a little more information. She interested me, and so did this message.

Last time I checked, the Sonic Emitter was run off of Energy Cells….. so they worked after all? And second, what sort of ‘Wave’ files? I hadn’t picked up any, did I somehow need them to calibrate the Emitter? It had never actually occurred to me that I might need a file or something to actually work the damn thing, I suppose I was sort of just hoping there would be something in the files that would tell me how to work it……

Shaking my head I flipped to the next file, which was actually a multitude of audio diaries from HoofDrum himself- let’s start with the first one shall we?

“Entry 1

Doctor HoofDrum here, this is my first day here in the Zone 4 ShieldTune Facility. Everypony here has been rather friendly and inviting, the Zone Manager Wynter Coat took me on a tour of the facility this morning. She’s a nice enough mare, but I can’t help but feel she likes to hear herself talk, hehe…. The last stop on our little tour was the Cryogenic Holding Chamber, where our soon to be ‘guest’ Subject 4 would be housed in case of a MegaSpell disaster. We didn’t stop long enough for me to get a good look at it though.

I questioned Ms. Coat on who this Subject is, and for what reason would Princess Tunelea be holding them here for. She handed me a folder on Subject 4, and simply stated the Princess wished to ‘House the heroes for Equestria’s future’. I have absolutely no idea what that should even mean, but none-the-less….. I’m getting paid to do research on Sound and Vibration Related Technologies, why should I care about some random pony the Princess wants to abduct?

I put the file in the back of my locker in my quarters, I don’t think I’ll be reading it anytime soon.”

Princess Tunelea? Who the hell is that? I thought there was only two Princesses anyway?

‘..... I was actually meaning to ask you, do you think any of the other Princesses know about this? About what Katarina's been having us do?’

That’s right, Moldy had said that hadn’t he? So why hadn’t it occurred to me when he said ‘other princesses’ that Katarina was actually a Princess? That there might be more than just Princesses Luna and Celestia? So…. Katarina and Princess Tunelea might be the same pony? Probably?

And now that I thought about it, I remembered the Employee Memo Wynter Coat had sent out. She said something about ‘not letting what happened over in Zones 2 and 3 to happen here’? Wonder what actually did happen? Maybe I’ll make my way over to CoffinBone sometime and try to see if I can get into Zone 2, if the Slayers haven’t already. I highly doubt they did….. perhaps I’ll try to find Zone 3 while I was at it.

I glanced up from my PipBuck to see Whiskey staring at me, face neutral. He just… stared, didn’t blink, didn’t move, hell I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. I blinked a few times, my gaze not leaving his, I felt slightly awkward under such a stare, “You need something?” I asked lowly, trying not to let how uncomfortable I was with the look show.

“That one o’ the docs in ShieldTune?” He asked.

“Yes, he was the one who made the Sonic Emitter.” I replied evenly, “I downloaded everything on his research terminal before I hightailed it out of Arabino.” I looked away to my PipBuck, “You done looking through all the junk or what?” I muttered.

“Nope.” His reply came and I shook my head. Whatever, just let him do what he wants, I don’t fucking care anymore.

“Entry 2

I’ve been working with ShieldTune for the last week now, and already I have run into a multitude of problems. First, the terminals all went down for about three days, I blame StableTech personally. Those three mares who run it don’t have it all down to a science yet, makes one wonder what’ll become of the ponies trapped in those Stables of theirs should a MegaSpell bombing begin? What do you think will happen if something malfunctions in one of those things? It’ll probably become a Death Trap….. hopefully they’ll figure it out before the time comes, and we need those Stables…….

Unfortunately, I cannot fully believe a peaceful resolution with Zebrika will come to pass. There has been too much blood spilled for any sort of compromise….

Either way, I seemed to have misplaced the schematics for the Sonic Emitter somewhere within the Facility…. I did stop by the containment Chamber that they have created for holding the dear Subject Four today, and finally got a good look at it. Full concrete walls, high-grade Ice talisman generators, and a steel and durable glass pod…… with only a single desk in the room. They seemed to have made it to withstand the worse……… Now I have to wonder why they are going to such lengths to protect this pony…. Perhaps I’ll take a glance at that file after all.”

I lowered my forehoof and stared at the ground, eyes narrowed. I was faintly aware of hearing Whiskey still rummaging through the junk pile nearby, but I think he slowed down a little once he heard the entry. I was aware that Dr. HoofDrum had literally just described the single room that I had woken in, but I couldn’t…………. That was where Subject Four was to be held, where this ancient pony was to be kept safe and protected… in that Holding Chamber….. with the single desk and the pod……..

I….. couldn’t be Subject Four, could I? There……. There was no way….. I had been avoiding the question the entire time, I knew I had been… I just couldn't believe it, but it…. It seemed entirely possible.

There’s no way.

“Look alive, Darlin’.” Whiskey said suddenly, catching my attention. My head snapped in his direction, he was looking to me silently, having paused in his looking momentarily, his head flicked toward a metal safe sticking up out of the rubble pile. I didn’t know if he was really thinking about what he heard from the Audio Diary, if he was thinking along the lines I was, or if he even cared. “Ya know how ta pick o’ lock?” he asked and I blinked.

Lock picking….. Lock picking…….. uh, no….. nothing’s coming to mind……….

“Don’t think so,” I replied, “Can’t really remember anything if you forgot already, so…” I narrowed my eyes, “Wait, do you know how to pick a lock?”

Whiskey rolled his eyes a little and snorted, “Course Ah do!” He muttered, swishing his tail behind him. “Bu’ come on over ‘ere, let’s see if we can’ teach ya a bit..” I paused I small moment, before slowly walking over. Whiskey stepped out of the way of the safe and pulled out a bobby pin and an old screwdriver, it was worn and with a faded yellow handle with green stripes, from his saddlebags, dropping them at my hooves. “Now, this’ll be o’ bit harder than if ya were o’ unicorn, with their magic an’ all.” He murmured, “Ya gonna have ta use yer hooves and teeth ta pick it, but Ah learned ta, an’ so can ya.” I gave him a glance and slowly picking the bobby pin up in my teeth and the screwdriver in my hoof carefully.

“Now Darlin’, it’s really simple.” He murmured, ears angling at the lock on the safe. “This is an easy one ta pick, so just put the bobby pin ‘ere, and the screwdriver ‘ere…” He pointed to the spots with his hooves and even guided my hoof toward the lock gently, I spared a glance at him, my ears growing a little hot at the contact.

“…..Why do youm wamt ta teachm mmme?” I struggled to say the words around the bobby pin in my teeth. His ears flicked in response,

“How do ya expect ta get inta anythin’ if it’s locked?” He asked in a bored tone, “Scavengin’, Ah already tol’ ya didn’t Ah?”

“Righ…”

“Now lookie ‘ere, this lock is real easy. Just adjust the pin and turn the driver, till ya feel the pin stop movin’ then move it o’ bit agai’, and turn the driver….. until ya got it unlocked!” I did as he asked, eyes narrowed and neck twisting as I adjusted the bobby pin, then turned the screw driver. At first I felt the bobby pin snag and stopped moving the driver, until I adjusted and tried again- the lock opened with a soft click. Whiskey leaned back on his haunches, pulling his hat off, holding it to his chest and letting out a soft sigh. He glanced at me, the safe door opened slowly and I leaned back away from it. “Ya didn’ even break a bobby pin! Grant’ it was an easy one, bu’….. still, ya may turn out ta be a pretty decen’ lock picker!” I blinked, I could swear I heard a… sense of impressed-ness in his tone.

Holy shit! I managed to impress Whiskey!

He looked away, “Now lets see what we got in ‘ere!” He stuck his muzzle in the safe and pulled out again, a bottle of wine clamped in his teeth, sticking out under his bandanna. He placed it on the ground and put his hoof inside the safe, pulling out a wad of old coins that had dulled, and a few bobby pins too. “Alrigh’,” he mumbled, placing the wine in his saddle bags, I perked at the sight of dozens upon dozens of random shit in his bags for but a moment, before he closed them again. His scooped the pins up in his hoof and tossed it my way.

I started, struggling to catch them as I flared out a wing and caught them by folding my wing a little, the pins settling among my silvery grey feathers. “The hell?!” I gasped, dropping the pin in my teeth in the process. Whiskey stood up and kicked the old coins away, replacing his hat upon his head.

“Keep ‘um.” He replied evenly, and flicked his head at the screwdriver in my hoof. “Tha’ too, Ah got another one.” I blinked at it, pulling the old, worn screw driver to my chest, ears twitching. “Ya gonna need a bi’ more practice before ya can open the harder locks, but Ah got o’ feelin’ ya’ll get the hang o’ it pretty fast.” That sounded like a compliment, and I could only blink at it, unable to tell if it truly was a compliment or not.

Whiskey began to walk away and I quickly stuffed the bobby pins and screwdriver in my saddle bags, before hopping to my hooves and trotting after him. I caught up to his shoulder, looking to him with a sideways glance.

“Thanks…….” I mumbled and he shook his head,

“Don’ worry ‘bout it.” He responded softly without looking to me. I glanced away, the momentary distraction of picking the lock faded and the thought on ShieldTune and Zone 4 returned, and they were all revolving around that one thought… that one realization, the theory…….

I could very well be Subject 4

.:+:.

‘Ooooooh!!!!! Look Flashy!! They’re decorations are impressive aren’t they? Even so, I think they could use some gooey intestine streamers to really pull the place together.’ The Little Me grinned.

I could feel my legs beginning to shake, the blood drained from my face and my stomach flipped, bile rising up my throat and all of my body's fluids threatening to spill from my muzzle. I sat down quickly, feeling like I was going to fall over and placed a hoof over my mouth, shutting my eyes tight.

Why was the Little Me so gross and demented?

We had just walked into SpringTail Elementary, and what awaited us on the inside I hadn’t been prepared for what I would see. The once white walls had been painted red and brown from blood, dirt, and who the hell knows what else. A small cage made from scavenged scrap metal stood before us, the inside holding the bloody mount of mangled bodies and different limbs inside, the blood and guts leaking out from the bars.

Crucified to the wall directly left of us was the skinned figure of what I could only guess used to be a pony, its entrails hanging out and littering the floor. To go with the rest of it, ribcages stuffed with miscellaneous organs and other bones were hung from rusted chains from the roof. The smell of decay and death rolled over the room and hit me like a slap in the face, I tried to not breathe in an attempt of keeping the odor out of my nose and mouth.

I had seen ponies shot and impaled on spikes in the front of the school, but they were only shot and dead. These… theses were skinned, jacked, mangled, destroyed……. I think I’m going to throw up…

“Ya alrigh’?” Whiskey asked carefully, pausing beside me momentarily. I cracked one eye open to glance his way, he gave me a sympathetic look. “Look, it’s always the wors’ in the fron’. Ferther in, it’ll be less…….. Graphic.”

I shook my head slowly and swallowed hard, slowly getting to my hooves and shaking my fur out and forcing my legs to stop trembling. Mentally, I socked the Little Me in the jaw, just as a reminder to keep quiet. She glared at me and huffed, rubbing her cheek. “I….. I’m fine…” I mumbled quietly, a red blip appeared across my E.F.S. and my head snapped to the right down a hallway.

Whiskey noticed my gaze and kicked something on that saddleish thing of his (I think he called it a Battle-Saddle earlier), the guns preparing. “Ah’ll take the space ta the left, ya’ll take the one straigh’ ahead?” He suggested, flicking his ears in the direction he wanted me to go. He didn’t wait for an answer before he trotted off and disappeared into the dark. I waited a moment, watching his yellow blip move away and slowly draw closer to the red one.

Then suddenly that red blip went out, and I didn’t even hear Whiskey’s gun fire.

I cocked my shotgun and made sure it was loaded before walking forward cautiously toward the center of the building, my E.F.S. was lit up with dozens of red lights, but I couldn’t tell what floor they were on. I refrained from looking up at the bloody hangings as I passed under them, gently nudged the double doors aside as they creaked on their hinges, I winced at the noise and stepped into the next room, eyes shifting from side to side. This room was filled with desks, most of which were turned over and destroyed, with one spare terminal left in the corner. Like the first room, the floor was covered in blood and as were the walls, but it didn’t sport the decorations the first room did. I shook my head, damn it those were not decorations!!

I walked across the floor slowly, ruffling the papers on the floor and ears perked, I was making my way to the terminal and got there without issue. I tapped the power button, and it sprang to life with a small buzz. It wasn’t locked, fortunately, and unfortunately, the only thing on there was a super Old Employee memo I didn’t care to look at. I tapped the power again and the green glow of the screen faded, I took to looking through the desk instead.

Bulletin board… coffee cup that is still white and insanely clean-ugh….. and three caps! Great, only 697 to go.

I closed the desk and headed off again, stepping lightly across the threshold as I neared a doorway on the left, one that was cracked open and I guessed lead down another hallway. I reached a hoof out to push the door open, only noticing the bright red blip on my E.F.S. a second too late.

A broken and bloody pool cue smashed into the side of my PipBuck and knocked it away with a painful thud. I jumped backward away from the door just as a raider stepped inside, yellow eyes glinting in the gloom. His ribs poked out from under a thin and mangy coat, his armor haphazardly put together and covered in spikes, his filthy blue mane slicked up into spikes.

“Ooh!! Lookie lookie! Such a nice toy, I wanna play with it!!” He laughed with a maniacal look in his features, I scowled.

In an instant I had nudged my shotgun off my shoulder and fired the buckshot into his face, sending a rain of blood, skull and brain onto the wall and door behind him. His body fell to the floor twitching, I snorted. And then the building erupted in yells and the sound of hooves pounding against floors, the red blips on my E.F.S. started moving wildly. Somewhere off on the far side of the building I could here Whiskey’s assault rifles blaring to life, and the screams of more raiders, when four different blips disappeared in an instant.

A steaming shell fell to the floor as I pushed my way into the next hallway quickly, stopping abruptly and balancing on my back hooves with the shotgun in my front ones, the next raider came around the corner at the far end of the hallway, I activated S.A.T.S. and targeted one shot to her leg, and the next to her torso. The shot went through her leg and her face hit the floor in the midst of her running to me, crippling the leg.

I reloaded and shot again, this time she was dead. And now I advanced down the hallway, trotting quickly and swinging my shotgun back onto my back for the time being. The doorway the raider appeared from only lead to a store room, and I stepped inside, throwing open the metal boxes inside to see what they held. The first, nothing. The second, three bobby pins- which I swiftly placed in my bag and moved to another box.

Empty. Next- a comic book, no thanks! Next- wait.

I tapped a hoof to the box, and blinked. It was an ammo box- one I guessed the raiders had brought in, and it was locked. With a glance o my E.F.S. to check that every red blip was faint to single they weren’t near me, I took out the screwdriver Whiskey had given me and a bobby pin. The bobby pin in my teeth and the screwdriver in my hoof, I began to tinker with the lock.

I was suddenly hit with the thought of what I had told to Whiskey earlier, “I don’t care if they’re raiders, innocent, whatever. It’s still murder.”

I paused when the bobby pin stopped turning and adjusted, ears flattening against my head. I was such a hypocrite…. Here I was, shooting raiders without a second thought. I was murdering ponies, but however angry I was at the time I had said that to Whiskey, it would seem all of my conviction for the words had faded now I had managed to make it here. It didn’t feel wrong to be killing these raiders, it actually didn’t feel like anything at all, as if I was suddenly numb to the death I was bringing upon them……… You know what? I fucking hate this feeling! It should feel wrong to be doing this! What is wrong with me?!

I jerked my head little and the bobby pin snapped, bringing me back to the present. I huffed slightly, pulling out another pin and trying again.

I was doing precisely what I said I wouldn’t do… I was going to kill ponies for money. Granted they were Raiders, but ponies none the less…. To ease my mind on the fact I was being a hypocrite and straying from what I had said, I chose to believe that killing the Raiders would save other ponies down the line- and keep those living in BaleFire a little safer. It just sickened me that I couldn’t feel anything about killing them, no remorse, no hesitation… I was numb to it, really numb.

The lock clicked open and I rummaged through it, smiling slightly. Two boxes of shotgun shells for me, and half a box of bullets for my revolver. I paused, noticing the box of .308 rounds, my ears twitched. Should I take them? I could sell them….. or give them to Whiskey……

“Hehehe!”

My head snapped away from the ammo box at the cold, raspy laugh. Immediately pain seared across the top of my hind legs, immediately below my ass. I hissed, back legs buckling under me so I hit the floor and flipping over to try and see a raider standing behind me, levitating a dirty knife in his magical grasp. I blanched a little at the lust in his eyes, he could have simply stabbed me and got it over with, but he wanted to play instead….

In a minute he was on me, filthy hooves ramming into my ribcage as he straddled me, lowering his muzzle to my own, acrid breath hitting my face in hot waves and making my eyes tear up. He brought the knife to me, levitating it just near my throat and smiling sadistically. I began to squirm and try to throw him off, but even though he looked like he was starving, he was heavier than I could manage to move. A quick jab to my stomach knocked the breath from me and ceased my struggling.

“What a nice little prize you are! Such a pretty little thing…… ripe for playing with I should think!” He smiled with a laugh, I tried to struggle again and he placed the blade against my throat, parting the fur and touching my skin. “Tsk… Tsk…….. don’t go doin’ that now, just lay back and enjoy the ride..!” I glanced his…….. in between his legs and scrunched my eyes closed.

Oh fuck no! Gah! NO NO NO…!!!!!

I felt the blade move away from my throat, and looked around, I needed to think fast…… I glanced sideways to see a glint of yellow and green- the screwdriver I had dropped was but an inch away from my hoof, I stretched out toward it carefully and slowly, before wrapping my hoof around it and swinging up to jab the top into the raider’s foreleg. He howled in pain and rage, the blade coming back down toward me as he was taken away from his earlier plan to rape me. I didn’t give him a chance to retaliate, and I lunged up, knocking my head into his as hard as I could manage, pain seared through me and my vision darkened for a moment, the raider yelled again and for good measure, I swung my hind leg up to meet the area between his legs.

He fell back with a squeak, curled up in a ball as he hit the floor in the hallway. I rolled over, hissing again at the pain in the slashes of my hind legs, before picking up my shotgun and unloading the remaining shell into him, the buckshot tearing him to pieces as he slowly bled out on the floor before me. I let the shotgun fall as I simply stood there and stared, not willing to move for but a moment. I threw my shotgun over my shoulder and deposited the ammo, the bobby pin, and my now bloody screwdriver into my saddle bags, while pulling out my revolver and loading it. Trotting out of the storage room I went back down the hallway and toward a door with a broken ‘EXIT’ sign hanging from he cracked roof.

Another raider came running down the hallway, a hammer in her teeth. Three bullets through her head and she was down, I hadn’t even started up S.A.T.S. My head was pounding from head-butting the raider before, and my hind legs stung as I moved, causing me to limp slightly and move slower. I figured I might try to take a Healing Potion, but that wasn’t on my mind now. I was angry now, and that feeling of numbness I had noticed earlier only intensified. It was a feeling I didn’t like, I should feel something when I killed ponies, and yet there was only a sense of emptiness………. Indifference almost. I don’t know why I felt that way and yet it was almost… normal in a way, I could feel it in my bones, and it only made me angrier.

I kicked the metal door open, letting in dim grey light that could only be from the cloud curtain, and the smell of sort-of fresh air came in the building before me. I had made my way to the back of the school, and it would seem that the back of the school had fallen apart, the upper two floors having given way to the outside. They were crumbling, and the outside among the ruin is where I found a shit ton of raiders waiting. A green mare’s head snapped around once I kicked the door open, and I kicked up S.A.T.S. aiming for her torso twice, she crumpled to the ground and I fired the last shot toward a grey stallion that had popped up to the left, causing him to duck down behind a pillar to avoid further fire. I reloaded, jamming the bullets into the revolver as quickly as I could manage, I even ducked behind the doorframe to avoid the bullets sent my way from one of the raiders.

Looking to my E.F.S. I counted how many were out there with me, ears perked for the sound of fire. There were about seven in all, and besides the buck shooting at me now……

“Kill them fuckers!” A voice yelled at the one shooting at me from what I could only guess was a shotgun, two fires.. pause for reloading. My ears swiveled back toward the center of the building when I heard the blare of an assault rifle again, and two more blips from back that direction went out, leaving the yellow blip alone.

“The hell are they?!”

BAM! BAM!

Two shots, reload- my turn.

I jumped out of the doorway, revolver clutched in my muzzle as I flared my wings out, jumping off with a hard kick that sent pain through my slashed hind-legs. The hot air curled under my feathers, lifting me into the dim sky with ease, away from the ruins of the first floor and up to be level with the second, my eyes caught sight of the raider behind the pillar, putting some shells into his sawed-off shotgun. My faint shadow cast over him and he looked up, eyes growing wide in fear when he saw the revolver pointed right at his head.

BLAM!

Straight between the eyes, S.A.T.S. dropped and I turned in midflight to scan the second and ground floors for more. Another one popped up from behind an old desk on the second floor, her dark purple mane standing out against the grey backdrop of the school rubble. In her magical grasp was held a 10mm Pistol, it blared to life as she pulled the trigger over and over.

I dove down below the level of the second floor, feeling the rush of air as one of the bullets just barely missed contact with my foreleg. She stopped shooting after I was out of sight, I cursed inwardly, hovering off the floor a little and tilting my head up. Was I willing to test my luck and try to dodge the rest of her shots until she ran out? Was I that dumb…?

‘I think you are, Flashy.’ The Little Me grinned, the first thing she had said since I started fighting.

I pumped my wings down in a powerful down-stroke, propelling myself upward at a good speed,

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

I arched backward, swooping up and down from side to side in an attempt to miss the rest of the bullets, finding ease in shaping the warm air with my wings. Either that mare was really bad at aiming, or I was a seriously lucky pony.

BLAM! BLAM! Click- Click-

“Ah shit!”

I spiraled in a tight circle and took sight on the mare, pushing forward so I could see her and pulled up S.A.T.S., two shots and she was done. I pulled back, looking for more. There were still five blips left and since I didn’t see any of them shooting at me, I figured they must be using non-firing weapons and couldn’t get at a gun to try and shoot me from my position in the air.

Whiskey had explained to me that most ponies were either Earth or unicorn, the only Pegasi down here on the surface were Dashites, and those were few and far between. So, no fellow Pegasi for me to have a fight with, I was left to master the air all on my own, and I preferred it that way. (Unfortunately for me, it never occurred to me there were Griffons still around- that bit me in the ass later on.)

I did a small circle round the second and ground floor to check for more raiders, and only came across one cowering behind a slab of concrete, one shot, one more down. Then I pumped my wings again to reach the third floor, meeting the rage filled gazes of the next three raiders, two were holding notched machetes while the last had his yellow teeth clamped down on a piece of rebar with a chunk of concrete on the end. Two of them scrambled for shelter, one with a machete and the other the one with the rebar. To my utter shock, the third one propelled himself over the edge of the ruin out across the open air toward me, eyes tinged yellow and mouth foaming, limbs twitching and convulsing violently. The fuck? Was he crazy?!

I stroked forward to push myself back out of his reach, and watched in utter shock as he plummeted down to land with a sickening crunch at the bottom. His body twitched a few more times, until he was still and his eyes rolled back into his head. He…………. Ok, not normal….

“Say nighty-night bitch!” My attention snapped back to the other two, the one with the rebar was smiling at me and waving a hoof in a gesture of bye, looking thrilled. From the corner of my eye I caught a small glint, and turned to see a different raider propped up on a ledge on the second floor, a worn and badly damaged rifle pointed right at me. I must have missed him when I scanned the second floor.

I made to try and dodge, however I knew I didn’t have time to move out of the way, I saw him about to pull the trigger-

BOOM!

That raiders head was suddenly gone in a mess of red, the rifle clattering to the ground. I blinked in shock, the noise ringing in my ears, my thought immediately flashing back to when I had lighted down on the Manehatten Highway in the midst of a scuffle between some raiders and-

“Fuck!”

I swept forward toward the remaining two raiders, unloading one shot into the first as I got near, then swiveled and propelled myself through the air to the side, wings folding to my sides to decrease air drag, and unloaded the last shot into the center of the last raiders chest. My wings flared out again to catch the air, as I gently glided down to the ground floor to touch down, dropping my now fully unloaded revolver back into my bag with a small sigh, shaking out my golden mane.

“Thanks I suppose.” I murmured, glancing toward the copper buck leaning against the doorframe to the exit I had come out of. His ears flicked in my direction, nodding slightly.

“Don’ mention it.” He murmured, walking out of the building and toward me, pulling down the bandana over his muzzle in the process. I glanced to his saddle-bags, noticing that they were much fuller than when we had come here.

Scavenging… right.

He stopped a little bit from me, eyes sweeping up toward the other levels of the school with a look of skepticism, as if he was over-viewing what he had seen me do. “Ah see ya can handle yerself…. Mostly.” He murmured, clearly thinking about how I almost had my head taken off before he… ugh, saved me damn it. “Pretty goo’ shot too……. Hmm…”

“What? Surprised?” I muttered hotly, taking a step toward him only to have my hind leg collapse under me again as a stab of pain rose up in my body, making me hiss. “Damn it….” I muttered, eyes scrunching tight.

“Ya alrigh’, Darlin’?” Whiskey asked almost immediately, I cracked an eye open to see he had trotted up to me and was holding out a hoof as if he expected me to fall over. Such a reaction surprised me, because for whatever reason it seemed to me like he was actually sort of worried.

I nodded slightly, settling down on my side to avoid sitting on my haunches as I tapped my PipBuck to pull up the Med. Status. Only slight damage to my legs…… and a mild concussion from knocking my head against the raider’s. Great.

I pulled a small healing potion from my saddlebags and sipped at it until I had drunk half of it, before replacing it. I could feel the slashes on my hind-legs closing up slowly and I let out a sigh. That was my last healing potion I realized, and the realization wasn’t very comforting. I glanced up at him, he was gazing at me levelly. “Well, the jobs all done now.” I commented. He nodded,

“It is.”

I nudged my nose through my saddle bags and bit down on the box of .308mm rounds I had taken from the storage room earlier and tossed it his way. He caught it in his hooves, leaning back on his haunches in the process. He blinked at it, “I have no use for those, but I figure you’d like them for that Sniper of yours.” I said when he blinked at me questioningly. Whiskey blinked once more, before nodding and smiling slightly.

“Thank ya kindly.”

“I suppose once we head back to BaleFire, we’ll be going separate ways.” I said, closing my saddle bags and sitting up. “This whole temporary tag-team thing is coming to an end I’m afraid.” I waved a hoof and sighed, though not without a small smile at the ground. I couldn’t say I wasn’t looking forward to be rid of Mr. Whiskey Shot-

“Now Ah think yer gettin’ o’ bit ahead o’ yerself there, Darlin’.” He said with a smirk, my head snapped up to him. He casually pulled the Sonic Emitter out of his bags and held it in a hoof lightly, teal eyes sparkling with amusement and mischief. My eyes grew wide at the sight, Whiskey still had the Sonic Emitter! It had completely slipped my mind and Whiskey knew it.

‘Flashy, you keep forgetting about that!’ The Little Me snapped, well why don’t you fucking remind me damn it?!

“Now look, Ah’ve been thinkin’ a bit on it, and Ah decided what Ah want ta do.” Whiskey continued, smiling a little more at the suspicious look I gave him. “Remember, Ah did say Ah migh’ wanna make another deal with ya.” My ears swiveled back and I bristled, becoming tense. Now I did not like the sound of this. What in the hell could he have been thinking about while he was shooting raiders? And what was it he fucking wanted from me?!

“And what the hell do you want?!” I snapped, anger rising now. Whiskey seemed to have expected that though, and tossed the Sonic Emitter in his hoof a little, making me stiffen at the action.

"Yer gonna take me there." He stated simply, glancing first at the insignia emblazoned on the back of my armor, then flicking his head to the Sonic Emitter. I stared, jaw open slightly and eyes narrowing, my mind trying to put together what he was hinting at…. Wait.

"To ShieldTune?!” I gasped, and he nodded. My jaw dropped even more, then I jumped to my hooves, wings flaring out. “TO FUCKING ARABINO?!!?!”

Whiskey winced slightly at the amount of noise I made, but nodded anyway. “That’s the one.”

“Oh hell no!" I told him roughly, stomping a hoof down angrily. "Did you miss the part where I said it was crawling with DireWolves and those.... those..... things!" I told him through gritted teeth, frustrated that I did not know what those goo-monsters had been, even after everything that Whiskey told me. I’m sure he told me what they were, but I can’t remember right now…... Screw my ignorance, it was pissing me off!

"Bloatsprites." Whiskey said calmly. "Those ‘re easy ta kill, an' DireWolves only hunt at night. I did tell ya that, ‘member?" He explained, not willing to budge. He sighed a little and smiled, “Look Darlin’, this is the deal Ah’m makin’ with ya. Yer not gettin’ the Sonic Emitter back if ya don’ agree.” He smirked, “Look, Ah know ya wanna go back anyway, so why no’ go back with me?” My head tilted, not sure where he was getting with all of this. And who the hell ever said I want to go back there? I almost died there!

"Ya think, no…… ya know there’s somethin’ fer ya there." He went on, and I quirked an eyebrow, ears perking a little. He noticed I was listening and went on, "Yer thinkin’ it fer yerself, when ya listened ta those Audio Diaries. There’s a reason ya’ll were there, an’ ya wanna know why. It sounds like ta me, ya didn’ spend so much time there before ya got ou’. Ya coulda missed somethin’, and that’s why ya wanna go back.” He tapped a hoof to his chest. “But ya know yer not gonna survive if ya go alone, that’s why ya need ol’ Me.” I gave him a blank stare, “Ah can help ya stay alive with’n mah survival skills, we can look after eachother, an’ when we get there, Ah can even help ya hack inta all them fancy computers and whatnot.” This time I gave him a disbelieving look, and he blinked at it.

“And you have the know-how to hack into high-grade military computers and terminals?” I said dryly, perhaps I was stereotyping the buck before me, but I couldn’t honestly believe this country buck had any know-how to hack into anything back in ShieldTune.

Whiskey feigned hurt, pretending to recoil from me slightly. “That stings Darlin’!” He murmured, “O’ course Ah do! What do ya take me fer?” He didn’t wait for my reply and continued, “Ah’ll have ya know, Ah am mighty good at hackin’ inta terminals and the like. Ah could get ya into those hard ta reach data files an’ maybe start helpin’ ya understand everything about why ya were there, and who ya really are.” He smiled, because he knew he had my attention and that I was interested in this proposal. I did want to know why I was there in ShieldTune, and it was a really pressing matter to try and find out if my suspicions were true- that I might actually be that famed Subject Four.

And besides, he already stated he wouldn’t be giving back the Sonic Emitter until I took this deal and took him all the way into Arabino and ShieldTune, and however much I forgot about that damn thing, I did want it back. It was important to me, even if I really didn’t have a clue on how to use it. It was a sort of attachment I had toward it that I couldn’t take away, I sort of felt that I needed it…. For some point in the future.

“…. Hacking into the tech is one thing.” I murmured lowly, “Getting all the way out there, and making it is another. It’s no short trek from here to Arabino, and if I heard correctly; DireWolves are everywhere. We would die before we made it, if not from them, or from slavers, raiders, you name it.” Whiskey nodded a little,

“True, there are plenty o’ things that might wanna kill us, but I’ve made a few trips up that way- never as far as Arabino, no, but if we stick to traveling in the day, and holdin’ up somewhere out o’ scent an’ sight at night, we could make it there in a little under three an’ o’half weeks.” My jaw dropped slightly, three and a half weeks?! I made it all the way to the Manehatten Highway in only a few hours!

“That long? I could fly there in a day!” I snapped and he blinked, before gesturing to my wings.

“Ya’ll can fly.” He reminded, and quirked an eyebrow. “Besides, Ah got absolutely no idea how ya managed to get all the way fro’ Arabino to the Highway so damn fast. Ya’ll must o’ been flyin’ faster than Ah’ve ever heard any winged-thing could!” He paused and his eyes moved to my flank, I raised a hoof to hit him for his indecency. “Tha’ might be why ya got…. A lightnin’ bolt fer ya Cutie Mark.” He commented and I put my hoof down. “…. No clue what them red rings aroun’ it are…” He relented, eyes narrowed as he saw them wrapping around that yellow lightning bolt. I blinked, realizing I hadn’t a clue what my Cutie Mark was supposed to stand for…. I couldn’t remember!

A deep sense of loss suddenly filled me at the realization. To get a Cutie Mark was one of the most important moments in any pony’s life. To finally figure out what your talent is, what you are truly good at….. and now that I knew I couldn’t remember what that meant for me, the Lightning bolt wrapped in red rings……… I felt like I had lost a part of myself, and it hit harder than knowing I didn’t have any memories of who I was…… if that was even possible.

“…. But…. I still have to repay Vera by the end of the month…” I managed to say after a while, desperately trying to shake off the feeling of loss. Whiskey nodded again and smiled,

“Ah know, 700 caps ain’t easy ta come up with in only a month.” He agreed and I blinked, how in the hell did he know..? “Vera was gonna make me pay it when Ah brought ya in, but since ya woke up an’ all, she decided to make ya pay instead.” Damn it Vera, why wouldn’t you make Whiskey pay? From what I understood, that mare did not like him, and it would have probably have made her happy if he had to pay that ridiculous amount.

‘Sucks for us, eh Flashy?’ The Little Me muttered, I silently agreed.

“But,” Whiskey said and I blinked, he had gone back to wearing that neutral expression I oh so didn’t like, but I sort of liked it better than a smirk. “If ya agree to come with me, ya get the Sonic Emitter back, learn some pretty useful skills, and-” He paused as if waiting or the grand finale!

“Ah’ll help ya pay Vera.”

My jaw dropped, eyes wide and wings falling a little. He would WHAT?!?!?!?!?

I couldn’t wrap my head around it, what in the world would make him do that? Why would he be willing to pay that large amount of caps, for a pony he didn’t hardly know? And for what? Leading him into a town sized Death Trap full of DireWolves?

But then I had to wonder, what was the reason he had done any of this? He had tried to kill me. Saved me. He taught me things, told me about the Wastes, showed me how to pick a lock. And then he helped me earn some money, right here, right now. While saving me again. And now he was willing to help me pay a sum of 700 caps? To go on a three week journey with me? I couldn’t come up with a reason he had saved me the first time, but for the rest of it….. I figured it was because he really wanted to get to ShieldTune. He was fixed on the idea, I think Whiskey knew something about it I didn’t, and I’ll admit…. Part of me wanted to know why. Why was he so set on making it to ShieldTune? What was this fixation he had for it?

I wouldn’t call myself any better at making deals than the next pony, but to me this ‘deal’ seemed unfair. I would be getting more out of this than he would…. Or maybe that’s what he wanted me to think. Maybe Whiskey wanted to push me to agreeing to this because he knew I would be getting the better deal, that I would get more, learn more, everything……. And he thought I was going to agree.

He looked to me, face neutral and gaze steady. I met his gaze, and once again we were locked, teal on red. His hoof stretched out toward me, "So Darlin', ya willin' to take me up on the deal?"

'Damn that stupid name! Hit him in the face until he learns to call you by your name!' The Little Me raged, I myself gritted my teeth at the nickname. He had called me Darling several times now, but I didn’t act on the anger I held toward the name- for now.

I stretched my hoof out, not knowing what I was getting into. Unaware of the things we would be facing, the danger. I didn’t know what we were going to learn, I didn’t know what it would do, and I didn’t know how things between Whiskey and I were going to turn out. At best, we were walking on hot terrain between us………. But we both needed this. But because we both were unaware of what this deal would mean for the both of us, we didn’t know what would happen when we reached Arabino, or even what would happen on the journey toward it. And hell if we knew what trouble we brought up by getting there.

My hoof met his, and we shook on it. Whiskey’s neutral stare cracked into a smile, eyes shining.

“Deal.”

.:+:.

Footnote: Level Up
New Perk: Frequent Flier (1)-
You have proven yourself adept at fighting in the air, from dodging bullets to wicked aim. Now every time you take on an opponent while in the air you gain +25% chance of hitting something vital- while also receiving 10% less damage from enemy fire while midflight.

New Companion Perk: Tech-savvy Sniper with a thing for... Bombs?- Standalone Mercenary, the (reportedly) tech-savvy and deadly sniper Whiskey Shot has joined you in your Journey! You now reap the benefits of this pony with +10 points to your Science Stat, and now have better chances of critical head shots, as well as a +10 to your explosive stats while he is in your company.

Author's Notes:

Enjoy a 2 Chapter Update, since I failed to post the New Chapter yesterday! ^^;
Chapter 6 is coming on June 24, 2016