Rescue Process (11) (Patreon)

Thomas walked near the head of the group as they left Motherlode. With every step they took, he became happier to have it behind him. However friendly and welcoming the population began, it was far harder to think of them the same way come morning.

No one in the caravan had done anything to harm the village, or anyone in it. But the ponies were willing to kick them out anyway. That would probably be some kind of crime against humanity in their world—survivors of slavery kicked out into the elements to freeze.

“We could've fought...” Shauna muttered, eyeing the village over her shoulder. “Won easily. But then Equestria wouldn't be on our side. We need their help to get home.”

“Unfortunately,” he muttered. “Guess we can't just climb up the cavern and fly out. There's something more...”

“Magical,” Shauna finished for him. “Yes. Some natives tried flying up into the cave, but nothing happened. But that asshole Pattern said there was a spell to make it work. We just didn't get a chance to study and find it, given everything else.”

They were still high in the mountains, where the air made him shiver and twitch with every breeze. What he wouldn't give for a proper winter coat. The further they walked, the more the pain of the cold wore him down.

The ones without wings or horns, the “earth” ponies, barely seemed to notice the temperature. They didn't even stay on the trail, sometimes plowing directly through the snow, and not caring as it melted off their backs. His poor hooves were already going numb from the little bit they crossed on the gravel path.

The pegasi too seemed to be in better shape, or so watching Lin told him. All those little feathers poking up from her coat obviously had a dual purpose of keeping her warm.

The same wasn't true of the handful of bats, though. They looked as cold as he felt. When Night landed next to him, she instantly folded her wings flat, and started shivering. “Hate it up here. How can it be cold and dry at the same time?”

“Technically, it's 100% humidity,” he said. “The air just can't hold very much water at this temperature. You would be warmer if you stayed on the ground.”

“I would be warmer if I glided down to the valley,” she countered. “But then most of you would be trapped up here. Somepony has to make sure you trot out of this. Even if the ponies who got foalnapped into that mine don't care. I do.”

He sighed. “There's a blanket in my pack. One of the ones Motherlode gave us. You could try wearing it, see if it helps.” 

The bat shrugged. “Can you tie it on?”

He could, thanks to his new mastery of basic levitation. A little floating fabric, and he tied the blanket loosely around her neck. “How's that?”

“Better, probably.” The cloak shifted, as her wings opened halfway under the fabric, then folded flat again. “Could be worse. Can't fly, but... not really much I can do with that anyway. If there's no sign of the diamond dogs following us at this point, they probably gave up.”

“Tucked tail and ran while they could,” Winston said, from a little behind him. “If they can't stop us from getting away, they gotta know that Princess Celestia will bring the hammer down. Their best bet is to get as far away as possible. Stopping us is already doomed.”

Lincoln caught up with him about then, speeding up to reach them from the back half of their little group. She'd been there most of the morning, either from physical weakness, or out of some compassionate desire to help the ones who fell behind.

But the journey was exhausting her too. She seemed out of breath as she approached.

One advantage to the awful labor the diamond dogs inflicted—it was hard to think of a better crash course fitness program. Working the sorter just didn't cut it.

“How far until we get to another village?” Lin asked, as soon as she caught her breath.

Shauna levitated the map out into the air in front of her, then skimmed over it. She tucked it back in only a few seconds later. “At this pace, probably not today, or tomorrow. There aren't any other settlements between here and the valley. Getting to another place like Motherlode would just be going out of our way. We'd make it faster by going straight down.”

“So, we need to stop a few hours before dark,” Thomas said. “To build whatever shelter we'll sleep in through the night. We'll get frostbite otherwise.”

She nodded. “Unfortunately. I'll have my eyes open for a good spot to bivouac, but alert me if you see anywhere I don't. Preferably after another twenty miles or more. If we go much slower, we'll be completely out of food before we get to the bottom.”

[hr]

That plan seemed great, even realistic—right until the clouds started rolling in. Thomas watched them gather on the horizon over several hours, gradually darkening the sky from cheery blue to angry gray. He saw the flashes of lightning and heard the thunder long before he felt any moisture. 

The wind got louder and fiercer, whipping the snow off the mountain and sticking it into his body. Thomas was strong enough to keep walking for a long while after that—but he had escaped the battle with few injuries. Others were not so lucky. 

They stopped long before nightfall, as the group came upon a sparse copse of trees tucked into a narrow clearing on the mountain. They were feeble things, with struggling pine leaves and yellow bark. But the ground here was mostly clear of snow, and it was the best they could do.

“Don't think some of us can keep going any further. No, don't apologize to anyone. You've done tremendously well under the circumstances. We can camp here for the moment, and hope for a better day tomorrow.”

She pointed down between the trees. “We're going for just one shelter for everyone. Freezing weather's not the time to get squeamish about personal space. Smaller it is, the better our heat will keep it warm. We'll use dirt and snow for walls. Much larger on this side, facing into the wind. Then some of the blankets will...”

Shauna knew what she was talking about. Thomas would've said something, if any of her ideas went against the survival advice he'd learned. He would try very hard not to think about how much worse off they would be without someone like her to lead.

He helped make camp for the next few hours, digging makeshift walls in the dirt with his bare hooves. It meant he got incredibly dirty, and his already sore muscles screamed for relief. Better sore than frozen to death on the mountain though.

While the strongest built the shelter, others devoted themselves to simpler tasks. They had a few pots with them from the slave camp and used them to boil drinking water out of snow. Others gathered firewood, what little they could find. They had no tools to cut down the meager trees, nor any hope of burning them even if they could. Fresh, living wood required great heat—with the twigs and dry brush they found, their fire was just too small.

Even those preparations had to be put aside when the storm finally arrived. Thick gray clouds rushed down over them all, blanketing the world with white flakes. Soon, any hope of finding dry wood was completely erased, and they could do nothing more than crowd into their shelter.

“Kinda like a hobbit hole, except terrible,” Lin said, crawling in ahead of him. Once inside, he saw exactly what the mare meant—with only sticks holding up heavy blankets, the ceiling sagged low in places. They could barely sit up without having their heads up against the roof. 

“It will warm up the more it snows,” Shauna said, pulling the blanket closed overhead. That left only the part of the shelter where they had the fire, almost at the exact center. There, most of the blankets were wrapped around a tree, with a gap for the smoke. Thick flakes drifted down around it, where they turned the dirt around the rocky fire circle to mud. “Hopefully the wind keeps the trail clear. If not...”

She didn't have to say it. Without an obvious trail to follow, they were far more likely to wander off, maybe fall from the mountains. Or maybe just keep walking until they starved.

Thomas didn't have the energy to drown himself in imagined deaths with a very real one threatening them. This is exactly why you don't send us off onto the mountains alone. Something was bound to go wrong.

He stayed up for a few more hours, as long as there was wood left for their meager fire. Eventually that ran out, and they covered up the last hole in the shelter.

There was barely enough free space to pick a sleeping spot, but Lin was already saving him somewhere. Slightly damp and muddy like everywhere else, with a thin sheen of ice on the ceiling overhead. 

“Do you still think it was a good idea?” she whispered, as he stretched out on the blanket. They would be far closer than usual tonight—close enough to feel the soft fluff of her coat against his.

She was toasty warm to the touch, somehow soft and fluffy instead of slick with mud and sweat. “Breaking out? Yeah.”

“Even if we freeze?”

He shrugged. “Don't think we will. But if we die, at least it's on our terms. Those diamond dogs won't go kidnapping random people ever again. Hopefully we turn into a... warning, about what happens. Make them terrified.”

The pegasus nodded. She didn't move again for a long time after that, long enough that she might've drifted off to sleep. “You really think we're gonna make it down from here?”

It was too dark to see her face—but her fear sounded entirely real. “From what I saw of the map, yeah. It's not as bad as it looks. And if the rest of us start falling behind, you can just have Night teach you how to fly. Glide down to the bottom with her. Maybe Salt Lick would send rescue up for us.”

She giggled, but there was still fear in her voice. “Yeah, sure. Jump off a cliff. Sounds like a great idea. I'm sure that's something you can learn in an afternoon. Just like riding a bike.”

She wasn't just near him—the pony pressed her back up against his chest, body shaking with every gust of wind, or rumble from outside. If the awful cold did one kindness, it was in muffling all the smells. He would not have done so well to have her that close, back in the mine. To say nothing of all the other awful things.

Thomas lay still a long time, drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. He must have fallen asleep at least once, but not for very long. He felt every awful minute, every time someone else shifted in the shelter, every muffled sob of fear and every time something moved outside the tent. Did Equestria have wolves?

The wind stopped, eventually. Shauna poked her head out through the opening, then slipped back inside. She spoke low at first, almost apologetic. “Sun's out. We can still see the trail—I think we have to keep going.”