Rescue Process (4) (Patreon)

“How long have you been doing this?” Lincoln asked, during the long way back. Thanks to being at the front of the line for the day, she and Night were now in the rear of the returning group, farthest from the single guard watching them. No one seemed to care if they tried to make a break for the workroom.

Which means they don’t think there’s anything for us to gain by going back that way. Or they’re so confident we won’t do anything that they aren’t bothering.

“How many days? Or weeks, or...” She shuddered, contemplating even longer spent here. So long they called off the search, so long they declared her dead and her family had a funeral. So long they sold all her stuff.

Maybe the search would find a portal!

“Dunno. Longer for some than others. Hard to tell when you don’t get to go up and see the moon. Maybe... six months? I don’t think it’s been a year since they caught me. Too much fresh food. If it were winter, the food would taste worse.”

Someone in front of them spoke, the kid. He sounded little better than the others, just as defeated. “How could it taste worse? Half the time we’re eating grass.”

Night shrugged. “Not sure. Guess maybe it was longer than that. Not more than a year. I’d feel that for sure.”

Lincoln dragged her hooves along the darkened tunnel, stomping one in front of another. Hard to imagine that only one morning earlier, she still had two arms, two legs, and—some other things.

“Quiet!” someone ordered—one of the dogs, she couldn’t tell which one. Hopefully she wouldn’t be trapped in the camp long enough to learn. They were as distinct as the ponies in their own way, with different colored coats and features that seemed to resemble more familiar dog breeds. “No more talking. Just walk.”

They walked—through one tunnel to another, before finally joining a much larger line in a cave she hadn’t seen before.

Its purpose was obvious—a single metal troth running through the floor, with openings on both sides. Lincoln had a lifetime of seeing these in farms all over.

The kid wasn’t kidding—they really did feed them grass. They marched across the room until they reached the other end. Across the metal divide was another line—mostly stallions, stinking of sweat and hard labor. A handful of mares were mixed in with their number. What made them so special?

“Today was... adequate,” said a dog. When she spoke, the whole room quieted. Guards and muttering ponies and shuffling hooves—everyone froze. “Acceptable. Nothing great. Keep digging. May bring oats again if you meet goals better. For now, you eat what you deserve.”

Lincoln peered through the ranks, past guards and forlorn ponies, to the cavern’s far entrance. A heavy metal door blocked the tunnel. It was open then, with a single huge canine lingering in the doorway.

She was easily the biggest dog Lincoln had ever seen, larger than any soldier in the room by far. She must've been part wolf from the length of those sharp teeth, and the cold blue of those eyes.

Her attention seemed to linger on Lincoln for a moment before she turned her back on them, vanishing through the opening. Only when the door slammed shut did the watching ponies start eating.

Most of them did, anyway. Lincoln lowered her head with the others, but she couldn’t bring herself to stick it into the metal troth or take a single bite. It wasn’t just grass, but dried blocks of yellow hay, some still bound by twine. Did they expect the ponies to bite through those too?

Most ate vigorously, devouring the food with an energy that could only come from those who faced constant deprivation.

Lincoln’s stomach growled, but her mind rebelled. She couldn’t eat this!

Neither could Thomas, apparently. He caught her eye from the other side, staring down at the grass in front of him with the same revulsion Lincoln felt. How hungry would I have to be to eat this?

“I heard about people eating stuff like this in the DPRK,” Lincoln said. “During the nineties. Is this world starving too?”

Thomas shrugged. “Doesn’t smell as bad as I thought it would. Almost hungry enough to try it.”

Lincoln sniffed, and found her friend correct—the grass was a strange mixture of scents, dirt and wet plants and sunshine. Not like any salad she’d ever eaten—dogs weren’t big on providing dressing, veggies, or meat to mix in with the grass.

A passing dog noticed what she was doing and shoved something hard into her side. “Eat, pony. Stay strong.”

Laughter echoed from around them. Lincoln looked up, glowering at him. A bucking horse was an exceptionally dangerous thing, maybe she could—

The dog loomed over her, almost twice her height. He kept a spear in both meaty claws, the point aimed squarely in her direction.

Maybe she could kick him—but what would happen next? I’m not gonna die in a horse mine.

She turned back for the troth, lowering her head as though she was going to eat. She pretended until the guard had moved on. She kept her head down for another few minutes, until the other ponies drained the feeding troth to scraps.

The guards marched them back to the slave camp after that.

The energy in the camp was much lower than it had been when they arrived. The group split in two, with Shauna in the middle again. “Any women who want to wash, you’ve got the next ten minutes. Guys, I’ll let you know when you’re up.” The group split in half again, with practically every mare heading in the indicated direction.

Lincoln would’ve remained right there with Thomas if Night hadn’t nudged her from the side, pointing. “All kinds of awful dust in the sorting room,” she said. “You’ll want to get it off, or you’ll have a rash tomorrow. Still probably will, but at least the soap helps.”

“Yeah, I was just waiting for—” She closed her mouth, then followed without another word.

Night gave her a single pat with her wing. “Women means mares—it’s one of the things Shauna says sometimes.” Then she let go, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

“I did.” She shifted uneasily on her hooves, touching her stomach. “I’m still queasy from dinner is all. Little light-headed.”

At least that part was true. Her stomach groaned loudly, punctuating her words with its rumbling rebellion.

Through another little doorway they reached a narrow tunnel blocked with heavy metal bars. Too close together for a pony to pass through, but with plenty of openings for the underground river. A single wooden box filled with harsh-smelling soap stuck into the wall at about head level.

What followed was easily the most uncomfortable bathing experience Lincoln had ever had. The embarrassment of lining up with girls might be worse, if they didn’t all look like animals. The frigid water and caustic soap more than made up for it, submerging herself into a rapid flow that sucked the heat from her body in seconds and left her shivering on the other side.

Naturally, there were no towels. Just a walk back through stone, her damp tail curled around her back leg and her wings constantly twitched involuntary to dislodge every little drop of water.

Shauna yelled again for the guys. Most got in line for their turn, passing feet from her in a dense group.

Lincoln watched soaking with the other “mares” as the line passed. Somehow, she ended up beside Shauna, close enough to whisper to her.

“How much longer are we gonna be stuck in here?” She couldn’t see any watching dogs, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Maybe they had spies, or microphones hidden in the walls. “They already have you people eating grass.”

Shauna glanced back at her, expression unreadable. “You want to do something about it? Or just complain?”

“First one. Not sure if I know anything you can use. But if you need my help, I can help.”

The horse looked her over. Magic tugged at her wings, lifting one of them up into an alert position at her side, then dropped it again.

“What about the friend who came with you? Will he help too?”

She ground her teeth together, backing away from her. Not that there was much space—her flank smacked into the cavern wall, smearing dust back where she’d just worked to clean. “Why him and not me?”

“I didn’t say we couldn’t use you.” She touched Lincoln’s shoulder with one hoof. “Deep breath, girl. Your friend is a unicorn—that means he can basically still use his hands. I wouldn’t put money on either of you winning a brawl with diamond dogs. That’s why we won’t be fighting like that.”

Something tugged on Lincoln’s body again, that same irresistible pressure from nowhere. Only this time it was tugging on her forelegs, dragging her forward through the cavern. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

She took her through the camp—through each of its various sections, past the sleeping area and mushroom garden and medical area, until they reached a large shelter in the center of a dense row. Shauna nudged it open without touching it, then pushed aside a makeshift cot. Behind it was a gap in the wall, just big enough for a larger horse to pass through. Which meant, obviously, that Lincoln had no trouble at all.

The cave wound and twisted several times through total darkness, dropping so low that she had to crawl for a section. The huge dog-creatures would have a hard time fitting through this—but so would ponies, if they had to get through quickly.

Finally, the tunnel opened into a large, irregular space, roughly twice her height and maybe twenty feet in length. Several objects lay arranged on a table, covered with bits of metal and makeshift tools.

They were weapons—several bows, sharpened arrows, and other blades. A few shields and metal staves. Each one looked a little different, made from bits of metal, wood, and cloth. Most of that came from human clothing, things people had been wearing when they first arrived.

A handful of ponies were already here, working under the faint glow of a unicorn’s horn. She recognized this pony as one of those who had greeted her when she arrived with Thomas. I didn’t see him leave for the shift, or eating in the cafeteria.

“We’ve been waiting to be ready to move,” Shauna said. “Building our strength. If we fail, there’s a good chance they’ll execute some of us. Whatever they do, they’ll watch us much closer the next time. We have to make sure we win the first time, because it’s the only chance.”

The unicorn eyed her, then glanced back at the entrance. “You sure it’s safe to bring her here? It’s her first night.”

“Positive,” Shauna said. “I saw the look on her face. She nearly took a bite out of the dogs during mess. She’s not gonna go traitor on us, is she?”

She. Every time they said it, she had to repress a twitch of discomfort. But asking them to stop—she couldn’t. Might as well just go telling them everything while she was at it, and let things get that much worse.

“Not a chance. I want to get out of here. I know Thomas does too. I don’t want to sit around and wait. Tell me how to get us out quicker, and I’ll be ready.”

Winston set down a little hammer on the table between them. “Now that’s the sound of determination. Just keep an eye out for metal scraps when you’re on sorting shift, yeah? And if your boyfriend is willing, have him work on his magic. Does he know how to shoot?”

Her tail whipped into the back wall, so hard it hurt. Lincoln glared at him. “We aren’t together. Just friends... friends who ended up in the worst place you could imagine.”

“I still stuck you two together,” Shauna said. “In the only extra shelter. You don’t have to be that kind of together. But if you think he’d be willing, bring him here. We practice with the unicorns every night before bed. I want everyone knowing how to shoot when the time comes—if they’re willing to fight.”

“I’ll ask him,” she said, backing up again. “Maybe tomorrow? Feels like I’m gonna collapse.”

“Make sure you get plenty to eat,” Shauna said. “Or, you know, anything. Stay strong, Lin. We’ll be out of this in no time.”