Fallout: Equestria, Project Horizons

Chapter 26: Descent

Equestria: Project Horizons
By Somber
Chapter 26: Descent
"Curses are artificial, fake magic. It's conjured with potions and incantations, all smoke and mirrors meant to scare. But curses have no real power; they're just an old pony tale."
In the early morning, before the sky outside was switched on for the day (the illusory night apparently being used for matches rather than actual night), I lay in Rampage's room. The striped mare was snoring heartily, but what had actually woken me was the disturbing sensation of my heart fluttering in my chest. To make matters worse, my head was throbbing with the promises of a migraine.
I lay there on the mattress while the rest of my friends slept around me, my amber eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. The cracked plaster slowly crumbled away, a black mold crawling along the edge, wet, pulpy, and glistening and growing before my eyes. It grew only because I looked at it, but if I looked away it would consume us all. My heart beat faster and faster. Something was inside that rot and fungus. Something was moving. Something was looking back at me. An inexplicable reek of ammonia reached my nostrils.
Suddenly, Scotch Tape jerked to her hooves next to me, snapping my gaze off that horrible patch of wall. The young olive mare muttered softly, "Damn it. Not again..." and trotted into Rampage's bathroom with blankets still wrapped around herself.
I looked back at the wall, at the small cracks in the discolored plaster. All was normal. All was as it should be.
Thump thump... thump thump... thump thump thump... thump thump...

* * *

"You know, it would have been nice if Big Daddy could have thrown me a bone and let us cross the Zenith Bridge," I muttered as I spread the map of Hoofington in the back of the Wasteland Survival Guide out against the row of bleacher seats in front of me.
Earlier in the morning, I'd gone to see the Reapers' medic and swapped our salvage for some more little purple potions. Doctor Contusion, who, in her ponyhide armor covered in cutie marks with a disturbing medical motif, looked if anything more unnerving than the other Reapers, had also confirmed my guess about the low level of Enervation around the arena.
After that, I'd tried to get a new melee weapon, but, for all the bloody panoply of deadly implements I'd been shown, I hadn't seen any that really appealed to me. I just didn't have the horn for giant hammers or swords made from wagon fenders, and I felt wary about using rippers and chainsaws. I wouldn't grow back my head if I accidentally sliced it off.
"Even if he did," P-21 said, "the Steel Rangers aren't letting anypony cross. And, according to DJ Pon3's latest report," he continued, pointing at the other crossing north of the Forks, "Toll's been closed since the fighting started. Unless you have another Seahorse around here, I don't see how we're going to get to the far side."
"Can't she just fly over, blink back, and teleport us all across?" Scotch Tape asked, pointing at Lacunae.
The alicorn sighed. "Do you have any idea how much energy it takes to teleport a pony such a distance?" The young mare gave her a dry look, and the purple alicorn huffed softly. "The energy needed is the product of the square of the amount of mass to be transported, the square of the distance to be covered, Fireflash's constant, and the inverse of the amount of radiation I've absorbed."
I just stared at her for a minute, then said softly, "Lacunae, pretend for a minute that I don't know anything about alicorns, mathematics, teleportation, or arcane science. Can you teleport us all across the river?"
"I could, but only one at a time; that would take all day, and I would be exhausted after each. That would leave us woefully exposed."
"You teleported the bucks to safety in 99," Scotch Tape pointed out, "And the guns."
"That was a distance of no more than fifty feet, and afterwards I was so exhausted I could do no magic for almost two whole days." I looked around, glad to see that nopony was asking why a Goddess would have such limitations. "To teleport across the river, I would need to find a significant landmark and memorize it in detail. It is unlikely that I'd find one near the water on the far side."
"Could you just fly us across?" I asked hopefully.
"Perhaps. But some of you are heavy, and it is almost certain that the Steel Rangers would try to shoot us down. Alone, I could handle that, but if I have to focus on carrying somepony else at the same time..." That didn't sound like a risk we wanted to take.
"So, we can't cross on a bridge. Can't fly over and probably can't swim across. Can't teleport all of us without taking a really long time..." I sighed and rubbed my chin. Couldn't go over. Couldn't go across. Couldn't cheat with alicorny magics. That left... "Can we go under the river?"
"Under? Are you crazy?" Rampage said as she jumped to her hooves. I smiled softly at her, crossed my forehooves calmly in front of me, and arched a brow in a perfect expression of reasonability. Rampage groaned, pressing her face to her forehooves. "Of course you are..."
P-21 muttered, "Welcome to my world." I smiled at him and felt warmth when he smiled back.
"What's wrong with under?" Glory asked with a small gulp of nervousness.
"The tunnels of Hoofington," Scotch Tape read aloud from the Guide as she lay on her belly on an old cushion, her rear legs waving idly in the air, "are particularly deadly. Today they are the home to desperate raiders, feral ghouls, and packs of savage beasts called cyberdogs. Perhaps even more dangerous are the automated defense systems, including magical ward screens and patrolling robots, and pockets of intense radiation and Enervation. Extreme care should be employed, and visits should be brief.
"Over a thousand miles of tunnels, subways, and other pieces of underground infrastructure were constructed in Hoofington, and much of it remains intact and unflooded thanks to still active pumps and ventilation systems. Care should be taken to stick to sewage maintenance tunnels and blue line subway tunnels. Enter into green industrial tunnels only in dire circumstances. Red tunnels should be avoided at all costs. These security tunnels were restricted during the war and contain potent defensive systems. Remember: Red and you're dead.
"Ooooh pictures!" She lifted the book up in her mouth, showing us a robotic sand dog-esque monster that appeared more machine than meat. I sure hoped that that was artistic license and not an accurate depiction.
"More than a thousand miles?" Glory gasped. "Where did they put them all? The Core is only five miles across at the most! How in Equestria did they dig out that much that fast?"
But I remembered Big Macintosh's memory of the city during reconstruction. "Tunnels on top of tunnels on top of tunnels," I said as I rose to my hooves and started pacing. "They dug tunnels to bring building materials under the river. And they buried all the power lines and the like after zebras started attacking with dragons; it was safer. They probably connected all the bases to the city by tunnels too."
Hoofington was a fortress, but it was more than just the Core. The Core was like a great big fat bullseye, a challenge to the zebras. But, in reality, the entire valley was a fortress, a death trap for the zebras to attack over and over again. 'Here is our technology. Here is the city you tried to raze. Come and get us.' I had to wonder how many thousands of zebras had died besieging and assaulting the city. Tens of thousands? Hundreds? Millions?
I'd seen the bones in Nopony's Land. That was just one small hill along the western edge of the city. How many were in the badlands south of Flank? Or east, toward the zebra lands? The zebras had come to Hoofington over and over again to die. The city wasn't a fortress. It was a killing machine.
"So, is there a tunnel from here to the east side of the river?" P-21 asked as he looked over the filly's shoulder at the guide. We all looked at Rampage, who gave a shrug.
Suddenly, I smiled. "We might not know, but we know somebody who does."