Back with our survivors at Sweet Apple Acres, the situation seems to be under control for now. What'll happen to the survivors, though, when one measly problem becomes a huge controversy between themselves? Will the undead take advantage of this squabble and strike when the time is right? Find out now!

Side Note: Again, more references will be made! See if you can guess more of those awkward, ironic, or terrifying situations that the survivors seem to be reliving as homages.

Draco exited the cellar and went into the house. He was asked by Applejack to fetch some apples from the outside for the foals, and he did so without hesitation. He headed outside through the front door of the farmhouse, and went to go pick apples for the group. He had two baskets with him, and headed to the first tree he saw. "OK, first climb up, check the apples, and then climb down," he told himself. He readied his claws, and grasped the tree with both hands. He then expertly climbed up the tree in no time at all. He sat down on one of the branches, and began picking apples.

He never knew how, but he could tell when any food was fresh enough to eat, when food had contaminants, and when food had molded or rotted. He picked a couple of apples with his hands, and threw many into the baskets below while he threw the rotten ones away elsewhere. He continued to pick until the tree was empty of apples, and so he climbed down. He had not even filled half of the first basket, and groaned. He dragged the baskets to the next tree, and climbed up again. He repeated the process until the first basket was filled.

He grinned with satisfaction, and dragged that basket into the farmhouse, setting it down in the kitchen. He went out again to fill up the second basket, and he climbed up another apple tree. He dropped many apples into the second basket, enough to fill it up from one tree. It was then that he heard rustling in the orchards, and he stopped moving. He listened very closely, wondering if he made that noise. The noise came again, followed by a loud crunching sound, and the noxious and haunting smell of decaying flesh and rot. Oh, shit… not now! Draco thought. He dared not move, but he looked around to see where the Shambler was. He was frantically searching, until his eyes went wide with fear.

Not one, but two Runners had appeared below the tree he was hiding in, both of them plagued with a swarm of flies that constantly followed them. They began devouring the apples Draco had tossed. They made horrible crunching and gnawing noises as they ate, and they both were covered in some kind of tattered rags. Their eyes glowed a dark red for some reason, and when they ate, the glow subsided and a dull white had taken over their eyes. They seemed much more content after eating, and spoke. "This… feed us… for life!" one of them said in a distorted voice.

"No think so… only so many apples on ground… taste horrible… compared to brains," the other responded slowly.

"Mm… Brains… find any?" the first asked.

"No… many ponies… gone…" the other replied.

"That's why… eat apples…dipshit..." commented the first.

Draco remained absolutely still, paralyzed with the fear that stuck into his spine. Seemingly out of nowhere, a tortoise came flying in, with a propeller on his back and wearing a pair of flight goggles. He landed on top of the tree, where Draco was hiding. Draco stared at the tortoise, not wanting to make a sound. He looked down, and saw the Runners notice the noise, but not where Draco was hiding yet. They looked round the tree, and concluded it was nothing, so the two Runners continued eating.

The tortoise then looked up at Draco, and started to fly again, but bumped into Draco's head repeatedly. Draco was surprised at how stupid this tortoise was, and how it wasn't dead yet. Finally, he had enough, and Draco grabbed the tortoise and switched the propeller off. He sighed in relief, and looked down. He saw that the two Runners were staring up now, right back at Draco. There was an awkward moment of silence as Draco and the Runners stared at each other.

"Uh… hi?" Draco said.

"Whassup?" asked the first one casually.

The other one then began to climb the tree in hopes of a meal. Draco, now terrified and moving, acted quickly. He turned on the propeller to the tortoise's propeller, and readied it to be used. The second Runner was almost up now, and Draco jumped out of the tree and flew down safely using the tortoise's propeller. He landed in the clearing near the barn, and saw the first Runner chasing after him. The other was trapped in the tree, and couldn't figure out how to get down.

The first ran rapidly towards Draco, and he switched the propeller on. The first was now close enough, and Draco slashed upwards with the tortoise's spinning propeller, making a huge slice into the Runner's face, revealing a deep gash inside the cranium that revealed the Runner's damaged brain. Blood squirted from the wound, and landed on Draco, giving off an almost rusty metallic smell. The Runner then fell over as it was still sprinting, and its body tumbled over and over onto the dirt. It twitched a bit before it died off for good. Blood still seeped from the corpse, forming a pool of it around the forehead.

The other was still stuck in the tree, and was contemplating ways to climb down. Draco laughed heartily at the Runner, and taunted it. "Man, that other Runner was right! You are a dipshit!" Draco began to drag the second basket of apples inside the farmhouse, along with the tortoise. The other Runner, not going to let getting humiliated by a meal go, jumped down from the tree and landed perfectly on his hooves.

He then began running towards Draco, who was now leaving the basket and tortoise in the farmhouse. Draco turned around in shock and ran away from the farmhouse. He led the Runner towards the barn, where he hid inside. He hid up on the rafters, and looked for something to defend himself with, as he was out of fire at the moment. He found the closest thing to a weapon that was available; a shovel. He took it quickly, and held onto it tightly. He heard the slow movements that the Runner was making to find him. He took a deep breath, but then he heard the barn door open again. "Hello? Is any pony here?" a familiar voice rang.

Draco realized that it was Sweetie Belle, and knew she was in immediate danger from the Runner. "Oh, shit!" he whispered to himself. He came out of his hiding place, and yelled. "Sweetie Belle, run!" he shouted out. The Runner then saw both Sweetie Belle and Draco, and pondered who he should eat first. He started to walk towards Sweetie Belle, who was now backing away. She whimpered in fear, and backed away slowly. "Hurry! Climb up the rafters!" Draco yelled.

Sweetie Belle ran quickly past the Runner, and began to climb the ladder up to the rafters quickly. The Runner sprinted after her, and began climbing the ladder as well. Sweetie Belle was now at the top of the rafters, while the Runner was close behind her. She saw no other way out of the rafters, and realized she was trapped. The Runner, having fully scaled the ladder, now closed in on her, and she considered her options quickly. She was about to jump off from the rafters to land in the hay down below, when the Runner grasped onto her and dragged her down the steps. She yelled at the top of her lungs, knowing this was it.

Draco then came out of the shadows, and whacked the Runner in the head. The Runner dropped Sweetie Belle, who fell down and landed hard on the floor of the barn below. Draco then whacked the Runner again, dropping him to the floor of the rafters. Draco lifted the spade of the shovel above the Runner's head, and pierced the Runner's skull with the spade, sending blood flying from it. Draco then began splitting the Runner's face in half, revealing the jagged, disgusting, broken jaw of the Runner, slowly oozing out dark red blood onto the rafters. The Runner then lay there, dead and mutilated. Draco released the shovel and then headed down the ladder quickly, and checked on Sweetie Belle.

She lay there, not moving at all. Draco checked her for any cuts or bruises, and fortunately found none. He lifted her up, and ran back to the farmhouse quickly. He entered the farmhouse, locked the door, and placed her on the sofa in the living room. He checked her for any signs of life, but could find none. Oh, shit, don't die on me Sweetie Belle! He slowly backed away from her, and yelled out for help.

…

Applejack, Applebloom, Scootaloo, Alan, and Draco were all gazing at Sweetie Belle. Applejack checked for signs to see if she was still kicking, but could find none. She looked back at the others. "Well, there are only two possibilities: she's either in a coma, or… she's checked out for good," Applejack said miserably.

All of the other ponies gasped in shock and sadness when she said this. Applebloom and Scootaloo began tearing up and sobbing, while Alan wondered what would happen to her. "Draco, what happened to her?" he demanded.

Draco turned towards him. "Two Runners had chased me outside. I killed one, while the other followed me to the barn. For some reason, Sweetie Belle showed up and the Runner spotted her. She climbed up the rafters, and the Runner grabbed hold of her. I swung at him and killed him, but he dropped Sweetie Belle from the rafters," Draco stated disappointedly.

"The rafters? Why would she go over there? It's dangerous outside," Alan interrogated.

Upon hearing this, the two fillies began to cry even more. Applebloom turned to her sister, and told her why Sweetie Belle left. "We told her to head outside cause she said Scootaloo was chicken. We told her if she was so brave, she should help pick apples outside. She said she weren't afraid of nothing, and she left to help Draco. We… we're the ones that did this to her!" Applebloom confessed.

Applejack comforted her. "You didn't know this would happen. None of us did," she said.

"How could we do this? I... I... I don't know what to do. Sweetie Belle... please... pull through," Scootaloo pleaded.

The room was quiet now, and they all turned to Sweetie Belle, wondering if she would come back to consciousness all right or as one of them.

...

Just outside of the orchards, a single dead body lay still in streets, charred and darkened. The body made a slight twitch in its foreleg, and remained still. It moved again, this time moving its hind legs. The hind legs bent forward, and stood the body up. The forelegs, with trouble, stood up as well, albeit trembling a bit. The corpse was now standing up, and tried looking around. It couldn't see at all, and it felt around ground for a moment. "Hey, who turned out the lights?" it said in an almost mechanical voice.

The corpse stumbled around for a bit, until it felt something on its hooves. It repeatedly touched this strange object, trying to identify what it was. It felt warm, wet, thick. The corpse sniffed to identify it, but all that it could smell was its burnt skin. The corpse then stumbled away towards the park in the center of town, where it continued blindly staggering until it tripped over something, and was completely consumed in something cold and wet. The char and soot around the body washed away from the corpse, and it could finally open its eyes. It looked around, and noticed it was in water. The corpse swam up to the surface, and drifted to the bank of a river. It looked around, and noticed it was in the Ponyville Park. Something was different about it though.

The entire park was as it always was, full of ponies that roamed freely. What was different about it though was the ponies who inhabited it. Many were wandering the park with much of their skin peeling off. Many of the undead ponies eyes were glowing red. Some had bites and tears on their bodies, and some even displayed skeleton where flesh once was, and all the while each of the ponies were plagued by a constant torrent of flies buzzing near them. The burned corpse stood up, and felt a sharp pain on its maw. It looked down on it, and saw that the jaw was being held on one side by the few strands of tendons that remained. The charred pony shrieked in pain and fear, and the other ponies turned towards him.

They slowly advance towards him, and surrounded him completely. He was still shrieking in pain, and he looked around, noticing the ponies had now encased him. One of them walked up to him and tore off his jaw, releasing the remaining blood he had left in his mouth. He shrieked a high-pitched yell, and his tongue was now hanging down from the open maw. The ponies then began to file behind him, almost as though they were following him. The charred pony was still suffering in his agony. It... hurts... but not as bad... as I thought it would... he processed. Look at these stubs... my tongue... it was all because... of that... dragon! I'll find him... I know I will! He then began to head outside the park, where he growled intensely all the while, with only vengeance and a meal on his mind. Lead... on... he kept on thinking to himself. The rebel without a pulse was leading some Shamblers and Runners behind him, and he slowly made his way through the town, looking for the "dragon" that charred him.

Mother of Celestia... the group has Sweetie Belle in a coma, and that's not the worst of it. The zombies now seem to be forming a large group, and the ringleader, the charred pony, has a set goal on his mind. Will Sweetie Belle pull through? Will the group experience more loss? Will the charred pony find the ponies in their sanctuary? And, will our survivors learn to keep control at the risk of an all-out war amongst themselves as well as the undead? Find out next week!

One more thing! Can any of you come up with a good name for our charred pony, please? Either review or PM me, and if you do see the name you submitted chosen, I'll gladly give you props and credit for coming up with it! Thank you all for reading my story so far, and have a great time reading it next week!