Chapter Five:
Bad Dream

Disclaimer: I don't own My Little Pony. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Hasbro. However, all writing contents and semi-plots and original characters here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that arementioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.

Summary: It began with two bodies, and then suddenly many more came to follow. I was there to witness the beginning of the end, where the dead won't rest, driven by the urge to devour the living. But we can't give up because the truth is all that matters. I am begging you…rise up before it's too late.

Notes: I love the zombie genre. I love seeing the different iterations people come up with. Some things I find endearing, others a bit hard to get into, but I can appreciate the process behind it all. I hope that my small addition to the Infection!AU of this side of MLP fandom at least endears to some of y'all, and if not, I wish you well on your journey to finding the something that clicks with you.

Feels like I'm falling
Into a world
Into a world
I can't control

I hear it calling
Down in my soul
Grippin' my bones
It won't let go

Wake me up
Won't you wake me up?
Caught in a bad dream
Caught in a bad dream
Wake me up
I wanna feel the sun
Caught in a bad dream
Caught in a bad dream
"Bad Dream" by Ruelle

It felt like an eternity had passed since I last saw my funeral parlor. I was practically dragging my hooves by the time I was in the homestretch. My humble home was on the second level of my place of work, and it had an attic space where I stored a few knickknacks that I have collected over the years. Things that I assume could qualify as museum-quality, but I had no intention of releasing them. I had fond memories of them, and how they came to be in my possession.

One that I was particularly attached to was that of the skull of a pony from three thousand years ago, having been mummified in such a pristine manner, entirely by the right circumstances of weather and environment rather than by pony-design. I've thought about putting some of these things on display, but I certainly know for a fact that many ponies would have found it ghoulish to do so. But as I've said, I have fond memories of these things.

I would have been relieved to be both back at work and at home, but I was much too tense and exhausted for that. I stood in the pool of warm, yellow light that lit up my door, glad that the flicking gaslight had kicked in. I had just unlocked my front door with the key and twisted it with my magic when I heard somepony calling my name.

I turned in the caller's direction, trying to hold back my annoyance. My limited quota for socialization and playing nice with others was quickly running out of fumes to run on. I needed sleep and food, to recharge myself. I was useless to anypony else if I was expected to operate at full capacity but didn't give myself the required recovery. And judging by the parting of ways I'd had with the townsfolk and the mayor; I was fully expected to continue playing a part in all this. Perhaps being the creepy pony who played with dead things had its advantages in this situation after all.

Not that I had much of a choice. The minute the Sheriff had wheeled in those two bodies into my morgue, I couldn't have separated myself from this even if I wanted to. I had jumped into the deep end and willingly at that. There was nothing left to do but tread water until the powers that be decided to grant me a ring buoy to cling to.

"Excuse me, Red Rush! Just a minute of your time, ma'am!"

I blinked in surprise. They came closer, into the reaches of my porch light, I saw that it was the Apple siblings. They had been patrons of mine, by a count of three times, if I remembered correctly. The most recent and most crushing of them all to the family had been their matriarch from Sweet Apple Acres, Granny Smith.

I had liked her. She had been one of the few ponies I could stand to be around for longer than five minutes willingly. She had always saved me a jar of zap-apple jam when the harvest season came around. And every time she did, she'd give me a cheeky wink and a smile, and she'd say, "That there's our bargain! I give you some zap-apple jam, and you keep that ole grim reaper away another year for me!"

I suppose I had failed her, because three years ago, she'd finally passed away. That funeral service had been one of the largest I'd ever hosted since setting up shop in Ponyville. Bigger than the last two I had hosted for the Apple family, for sure. Even the most distantly related family members and friends had come into town. Standing room only, no spare seats to be had and there had been no dry eyes (or noses for that matter) either. The following migraine I had sported directly after on the evening of the service had been equally as large. It had taken me three agonizing days and nights to get rid of it.

But for Granny Smith Apple? It had been worth it.

Big Mac and his younger sister trotted up to me, both sounding winded from having run from one end of town to this one. My funeral parlor was entirely out of their way to get home to Sweet Apple Acres. So why were they here instead of heading home?

I gave them a curt nod each, and closed the door to my work, my home. I could spare a few minutes.

"Big Mac. And, you are…?"

"I'm Apple Bloom. We've met, like, a dozen times in the last few years. Don't you remember?"

I cleared my throat politely and shook my head. "Sorry. I'm not typically great with names."

"It's fine, Red Rush. We don't hold it against you," said Big Mac, with a nudge to his little sister. She gave him a side-eyed look and stuck her tongue out at him before turning to me again.

"We just wanted to know if you saw Sweetie Belle or Scootaloo, by any chance? Or my big sister, Applejack? They were all teaching up at the school today, and you mentioned at the meeting that they were helping everypony else that evacuated the hospital earlier…"

I vaguely recalled what Applejack looked like. Orange fur, long straw-coloured mane and tail, Stetson hat. Twangy accent, not that dissimilar to Sheriff Dust Cloud's…or her own siblings, I suppose. The Element of Honesty, and cohort to Princess Twilight Sparkle. I knew of her. I just didn't know her directly. I've also met several dozen Apples in the last few years; it was dizzying to keep up with them, even for those that were residents of Ponyville proper.

I wracked my brain, trying to remember if I'd seen even a glimpse of her when the school faculty had flocked over to assist the evacuated patients. My shoulders sagged, and I finally shook my head. "I'm sorry. I don't know if she was there. I was busy with the Sheriff and Nurse Redheart before I went straight to the town hall meeting."

I noticed the way Apple Bloom's face fell…and how her eyes widened when she looked at my hooves. "I-is that…blood?"

I shuffled back a step, looking away. "…it wasn't a pretty sight inside the hospital. I wouldn't suggest going there and trying to poke around. It's sealed with one of my spells, regardless."

"Like any of us wanna try breakin' in. Well, what about Scootaloo or-or Sweetie Belle?"

"Apple Bloom, that's enough. We've taken enough of her time, and we gotta get scootin' home now—"

"How can you not remember anypony's name or who they are, period? You've been here for years! We all know what you do, but you don't seem to know squat about anypony here in Ponyville!" Apple Bloom shouted and stomped her front hoof. Tears brimmed in her eyes as her lower lip trembled. Big Mac pulled her closer and swung his head across her neck in an embrace.

I looked away, shuffling my weight from one hoof to the next, allowing them this moment to themselves. It was almost a habit to me by now. I may be present, but I was decidedly not a part of a vulnerable, tender moment for grieving or distraught family and friends.

I could understand their frustration. They don't know what was happening, not to its full extent like I did, and I doubted that Starlight Glimmer was going to be throwing the school's doors open again tonight. Not with what was happening now. But that meant not getting any information in or out. Not for anyone…except perhaps myself, the mayor, or the Sheriff.

"We're sorry to have bothered you, Red Rush."

"It's…fine. I know you both are worried; you have every right to be. I'll see if I can get any updates and try to send word into the school tomorrow. But I'd suggest you barricade yourselves in at home tonight, and not let anypony in if they come knocking or even screaming at the door."

"Right, cuz…they might be bit or undead or something," Apple Bloom muttered as she and Big Mac pulled away from one another, still appearing crestfallen and miserable. I hesitated, on the verge of fleeing inside and standing dumbstruck on my doorstep. An idea struck me a half-second later and I once again breached the box of pastries from my saddlebag and left it to hover in front of Apple Bloom.

"Here. Take as many as you'd like. I know it's a poor consolation prize right now, but it's all I have."

Apple Bloom's lips quirked into a half-smile and she made off with three pastries. It didn't seem to matter how old or young a pony was; sweets seemed to be quite the hit to make anypony smile, even if only for a few seconds. Big Mac shot me a grateful look before herding her away back home.

I couldn't help but notice how alert he remained, even at a distance. I was glad for it. We'd all need to be on high alert until we could confirm that this nightmare was coming to an end. If it could be ended. I reopened my door and stepped inside, and relief washed over me, seemingly washing away my stress.

Literally, it did just that. I had set up a web of spells across my parlor for my own benefit, tailored and designed by myself. Stress relief when my vitals were low, an extra oomph of energy to keep me going just a little bit longer, a spritz of some other conglomerations for various moods and levels of health. I tugged at each thread of spell that I needed, and the extra rush reinvigorated me as I felt the tendrils settling over me.

It would keep me going just long enough to get some food in me, a shower to clean off the blood, and then to finally make it to bed. I'd have to reset them in the morning, but I was more than willing to do just that if meant going to bed clean, and somewhat physically satiated.

"Mama? Mama!"

"Yes, my little pony?"

"What's in the forest?"

"Scary creatures. Monsters who would eat you up in one bite."

"Why?"

"Because that's what they do. They don't care much for life like we do."

"But why?"

"Oh, my sweet filly…that's just how they are. There's no changing their nature."

"But Pegasi change the weather. Why can't we change ani…amin…aminals?"

"Animals aren't as smart as us pony folk. They're dim-witted beasts."

"But Mr. Raccoon is smart! He washes his paws before eating! And-and Miss Hawk, she builds a nest like we make our homes for her babies and Miss Rabbit burrows deep to keep her babies safe and—and—"

"Please don't start this again, little one! You need to stay away from the forest, it's much too dangerous! You need to be more like your big sister Horizon Tempest! She's such a hard worker—"

I awoke with a sharp gasp, the sound of my front door's alarm ringing in my ears. It sent a jolt of uncharacteristic panic through me as I stumbled out of bed, blankets tangling around my limbs as I struggled to free myself. I've never had vandals break into my funeral parlor before, not when I was home or even when I was away—except for the one time. Most residents of Ponyville actively avoided my place, even if they regarded it with mild disdain.

I yanked myself out of bed, rolling straight to my hooves and frantically rushed out of my bedroom, out into the landing and down the stairs. I came to a skidding halt worthy of some goofy cartoon comic in the newspapers when I saw that it was Sheriff Dust Cloud, standing awkwardly in the entrance of my funeral parlor downstairs.

I stared until I finally, fully registered who it was.

We stared at one another for a few strained seconds before he spoke.

"…you left your front door unlocked. Gotta say, not very smart of you, Red Rush. Especially considering what's been happening as of late."

I swallowed back a biting remark. Now wasn't the time to be snippy. He was right, after all.

"I…didn't realize I'd left things so unsecure." I couldn't recall if I had locked my front door or not. I'd been so tired last night…

What a fucking oversight.

I shook my head, my ears flaring back. I needed to catch him up, not linger on my mistakes. "Mayor Mare's backing us. We're on lockdown, as far as I'm aware. I'm…not sure how things have gone along since we parted ways last night. What's going on with the school?"

The Sheriff's lips quirked into a half-smile. "So far, so good. Got the headmistress and that school counselor up to speed on what we know. Helped them set up their makeshift hospital in some of the classrooms. I think they sent word to Princess Twilight up in Canterlot, but I can't rightly say for sure."

I gave him a once-over. He looked a lot cleaner, thankfully. There was less red and gore on him. "How's the leg?"

"Better, once they made me rest and kick up my hooves. Still limping a bit. I told 'em bites were a big thing, and they started checking everyone."

"And did they find anyone with any bites?"

I motioned for him to follow me with a nod of my head, and he dutifully limped along. I led him to the kitchen upstairs.

"Not that I know of, but we got a bunch of the older students helping out with the patients. The docs and nurses took a big hit, thanks to the fiasco in the quarantine wing. Before we all go back there the second go-round, that is."

I glanced back at the Sheriff, and caught him shaking his head, a sneer pulling at his face.

"We shoulda been quicker."

"My sentiments exactly, Sheriff." I paused as we passed into the kitchen. I motioned him to take a seat, if he wanted, and I turned to the task of making coffee. Once the brewer was set, I settled at the kitchen island across from the Sheriff. "Did you see anything on your way here?"

"No, thank the Princesses. It's all quiet out there for the time being. I'm hoping if we keep things locked down like this, maybe we'll be safe. Maybe this could blow over and things can get back to normal."

"Normal? Sheriff, take a look around. What had happened at the hospital last night, all day yesterday…nothing about that was normal. And a lockdown might not be a complete problem-fixing failsafe. It's a band aid on a sucking chest wound. We need to take more action!"

He huffed back, narrowing his eyes at me. "And how would you go about that, Red? You keep on harpin' this concept of 'we'. Enlighten me. 'Cuz all I been hearing from you is talk, talk, talk. How would you fix this?"

"Reaching out to the princess, for one. Or all of them. There could be cases in the Crystal Kingdom, and we'd never know it, given how far out they are from Canterlot and the rest of us."

"I already told you, Headmistress Starlight's reached out—"

"You just said a few minutes ago you didn't know for sure," I countered, my irritation rising. Ugh, I needed more caffeine in me to tackle this. The Sheriff looked at me with reproach, his muzzle curdling into a sour grimace.

"I'm not exactly in cahoots with the princess's inner circle, I don't get regular updates, so sorry to disappoint." The Sheriff replied flatly. His gaze shifted away from me for a split second to something behind me. "Coffee's ready, Red Rush."

I got up and pivoted towards the counter, my jaw clenched and body stiff. Mugs clattered down and out of the cabinets with a sweep of my magic, ceramic clinking harder than necessary on the black quartz countertops. I had remodeled my kitchen a few years back. I think the one who helped me with choosing those countertops was that hyper Sugarcube Corner pink pony's sister. Maude Pie.

I'd been hesitant at first with them, seeing just how glitzy they looked, but their durability has remained topnotch over the last few years. I liked Maude. She was a straight-to-the-point pony, and didn't jump around, sucking up all my social and emotional batteries until I was left with nothing for myself. But with Maude, we had business to conduct—I was a customer, she the consultant, and at the end of the day, we shook hooves, and that business came to its conclusion.

It had been the easiest part of the renovation of my kitchen.

None of that mattered right now. My counters couldn't fix this looming problem.

The mugs of coffee I had fixed for myself and the Sheriff shivered midair and my magic failed. It wasn't that my spell had weakened, no.

A shudder wracked and overtook me when I heard it, and my concentration had faltered as a result. The ceramic made me jump as it shattered on hardwood flooring, and I stared down at the coffee-covered broken shards that lay at my hooves. I brought my gaze to bear on Sheriff Dust Cloud, but he too, seemed stricken by that same something. His ears were pricked, head turned away from me, brows furrowed in concentration.

At first, I had thought it was a figment of my imagination. But the sound came again: a high, reedy little scream that came from tiny or distant lungs.

Sheriff Dust Cloud's head snapped toward me to meet my startled gaze, his nostrils flaring. It confirmed to me that it hadn't been my imagination. He had heard it too. We abandoned the refuge of my kitchen and the mess I'd left behind, hooves thundering against the worn steps down to the first floor. He burst through the front door first with his shoulder. I was right on his heels, my saddlebag flying through the air behind me. I tightened the straps around my middle as soon as they landed.

The first thing that hit me was the acrid stench of smoke. It was flooding the street, furling against the levies of homes and shops as we had rushed straight into it before we realized what it was. I lost sight of the Sheriff as a particularly dark plume ringed with embers and sparks engulfed us both.

Another scream sounded off, but I couldn't place its direction. I could feel the heat of the fire, though, wherever it was. It was so unbearably hot and close, and with all the smoke, it's as if I was choking on the very air itself. I struggled to cover my snout and breathe past it at the same time. My eyes watered, blurring my vision as I lurched forward, hoping I didn't run into a building…or something much worse than that.

"Red! Red Rush! Where are you?!"

I could hear it now; the roar of a fire, and the Sheriff bellowing over it. One of the shops or houses—maybe even several at once—were aflame. More voices were joining the first one that had drawn out the Sheriff and I outside. I stumbled over my own hooves, hacking uncontrollably, eyes prickling with tears as the unbearable stench of the smoke overwhelmed me. Through my watering eyes, I saw a blissful reprieve in the wall of smokey blackness that surrounded me, and I lunged for it.

The sight of faded blue shifting and the vague contours of buildings ahead of me became clearer as I charged towards it. The moment I cleared the majority of the smoke and sparks, I came to a grinding halt. My breath came in ragged gasps, my throat raw and stinging as fresh air comingled with the smoke that clung to my insides.

A young filly stood only a few meters from me, a deep and beautiful coat of ombre-gold and her mane and tail a faded wine colour, like that of an especially peaceful sunset on the horizon. I stared at her, frozen in place. The drumming of my heart grew louder and I took a hesitant forward, strangely drawn to her. I had never seen her before in Ponyville—not to my recollection, at any rate—and yet, I felt a strong pull towards her. She was so young, so strong-looking—it made me suddenly and oddly envious. Her golden eyes locked with mine and I stepped closer, the taste of a name just out of reach of my tongue as I opened my mouth to call to her—

My trance was brusquely broken by the plaintive cries of my name from the Sheriff. I craned my neck to peer behind me, and saw him stumbling out from the roiling billows of smoke that I had only just cleared, a hoof over his snout. He coughed violently, his eyes squeezed shut and leaking unwilling tears down his cheeks.

"R-Red Rush! What's going on?! We gotta move it!" He hacked out, and I hesitated, torn from assisting him to joining the strange little filly just beyond the veil of smoke and in the fresh air. I stole a quick look back to where she had been, and was stunned when there was no pony else at the end of the street. A part of me wanted to gallop off to find her. She was so young, and she was caught in all of this disaster—I don't know her at all and yet at the same time, I felt like I knew who she was. Her name…I felt like I knew that too, and it was just out of reach. But if I concentrated hard enough, I could practically grasp it—

The moment passed and it was all gone, just as suddenly as it struck me. An uneasiness settled in the pit of my gut like a hot ember, scorching everything it touched. I backed up and startled when I bumped into the Sheriff. He pushed me forward with his shoulder, urging me on.

"Half the buildings on this street are on fire, we gotta go!"

"Where's the fire brigade? Don't you usually coordinate with them?"

"Halfa them ended up in the hospital transporting the victims after that train wreck yesterday at the station," said the Sheriff, his face pulling into a grimace. "I don't think any of them made it out before you locked it down."

Damn it. I shot a glance back behind me, my heart rising in my throat at the sight of the street engulfed in flames and dark plumes of heavy smoke.

It was worse than I had originally imagined. Why hadn't the Sheriff noticed this before arriving at my place? Surely, the fire hadn't started so quickly or ended up this badly in such a short amount of time. Not unless some pony had been playing a very risky game with fire magic…or perhaps pissing off a dragon. Those were just a few of the logical conclusions I could think of.

I craned my head back around just as a store front burst apart with a roar of flames and broken crash of glass. The Sheriff came to a hard halt a few feet ahead of me. He snapped his head to the side, eyes squeezing shut to protect himself. I did the same, skidding to a stop, gritting my teeth, eyes closing.

Something slammed into my side, hurtling me into the side of the building. My eyes flew open as a pained grunt and the air from my lungs escaped me. The source of my troubles was another pony, and with it came a maw full of teeth, bloodied froth snapping with frenzied determination to sink into my flesh. The faint aroma of decay was mixing nauseously with the acrid fire smoke.

The noxious scent of the dead, in all its varieties and levels of rot has hardly ever bothered me. After all, I've worked with the dead on a daily basis for years. What did bother me, however, was the dead rising to terrorize the living. I'm not fond of something that should stay down on my morgue slab getting back up and trying to eat me. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and all that.

The dead pony I was barely holding at bay with my hooves kept snapping its jaws at me, bloody drool and froth dribbling past their teeth. Milky, glazed over eyes stared me down. Could it even see me, I wondered. Did it still have its other sensory faculties? How could it know where I was if its ocular sensory was completely useless?

That's when I noticed it. Their coat and flesh was stretched so tightly across its body, there was hardly much left to the imagination with just how emaciated this undead vessel really was. What fur was left—and by extension, the bare flesh beneath—was a rich golden-yellow colour, not unlike…

Not unlike wheat.

Wait…wait, Deputy Frizzy Pop…he'd mentioned one of the missing ponies, just a day or so ago. A missing friend to my Buck Doe.

The name finally, agonizingly, and belatedly, clicked in my head.

Golden Wheat. One of the missing camping friends of River Reed. My Buck Doe, sitting in my morgue right now.

His friends have finally come back to roost, for better or for worst. This wasn't their home, true…but it was now their killing ground.

My legs weakened as the realization struck me. Golden Wheat's jaws snapped closer as I stared blankly at their body. It wasn't really Golden Wheat. Just like Far Fetch wasn't really herself last night when she had ripped Frizzy Pop's throat out. None of these ponies were themselves once they expired. It was simply the disease, the virus, piloting their bodies as their own. The being they once were no longer existed when this sickness killed them off and took over their bodies.

"RED RUSH!"

The Sheriff's voice broke my trance and in a sudden flash, his hooves filled my vision, slamming Golden Wheat's snapping jaws out of my immediate gaze. Haltingly, I jerked my head in the direction of the golden Earth pony's direction, my ears ringing. I watched as the undead pony scrabbled unceremoniously to its hooves so determinedly.

Why? Why was this…familiar? I've never seen this before. And yet…and yet, I have.

My chest constricted and tightened further until the Sheriff was practically bellowing in my ear.

All sound seemed to rush back into me all at once, a cacophony of words and roars and screams and crackling and ringing crashing together. Sheriff Dust Cloud's face swam into view, his mouth moving, his words finally registering:

"RUN."

That's all we could do.

Run.

That's what we all do when we're stuck in a bad dream, after all, isn't it? We run away from the scary monsters in our heads. And that seemed to be a valid enough strategy in the waking world. So, I did just that: I ran, chasing after the Sheriff.

What else could I do but run?