A cloudy huff escaped the muzzle of the earth pony mare, as she dragged the newly-loaded cart along behind herself. Of all the tools she could’ve forgotten to bring along, of course it had to be the one celestia-damned 12mm socket wrench she needed for all the bolts… oh well, let her pick up parts for the next tower along, at least. The partially-built shack that housed the lower terminus and powered end of the line came into view around the next ridge, and Pressure Cooker let loose a contented sigh - almost there, almost able to get back to work.
 
As she headed closer to the shack, the distinct rumble of one of the internal combustion engines caught her ears, making her want to scrutinize the shack a bit more. She didn’t leave an engine running in there by accident, did she? Would be a bit of a waste of fuel of she did, but at least the place should be a bit warmed up. Her eyes fell to the exhaust pipes that poked through the roof, neither of them puffing the familiar white smoke skywards as one would’ve expected. The weather covers for the stacks weren’t even fluttering in the slightest, so the engines definitely weren’t running - but that noise was still getting closer.
 
More than a little concerned, Pressure Cooker quickly brought herself and the wagon to the side of the road, unhitching the towbars from around herself and heading back to the road to investigate. The rumbling roar of the engine continued to grow louder - but, as she looked, no obvious source was in sight yet. Where the sound was coming from, though, was just around the previous ridge - suppose it’s a good thing she turned off, wouldn’t want to end up getting run over by a motorcart or something. Probably just Static or Night Strike coming to see how the TOPHAT is coming along.
 
Just as her head was thinking these reassurances, the true source of the noise rounded the bend, all 49 tons of the gunmetal grey rubber charging forwards at full tilt. Pressure Cooker paused for but a moment, eyes and brain stalling in trying to process the sight. That silhouette… the lake, that one winter long ago… it couldn’t be! She must be seeing a ghost, or something! And yet, as the Maus charged down the road, kicking up snow and dirt as it plowed forwards, ghost or not Pressure Cooker knew that she had only one real option: run.
 
Distancing herself from the supply cart, praying that who or whatever’s driving the Maus is going after her (because damnit, that steel frame is heavy, and carts aren’t cheap!), the earth pony mare continued down the road at a full gallop, the roar of the engine only growing louder. She looked behind herself - she never had the Maus going that fast before! The nearing form of the massive inflatable tank made her only try to run faster, a part of her brain not focused on surviving trying to think - who could be running that thing, anyways?
 
Depth Charge? No… no, he wouldn’t know how to make it work, and if it was him then why would it be running a cider engine? Air is a lot more combustible than water. Maybe… maybe Night Strike? Doubtful, why would she want an inflatable tank? Her flying machine seemed capable enough when it came to ruining the day of whoever’s driving these things, even without the help of- Pressure Cooker’s eyes went wide. Earlier this summer, the day Night Strike was there when they were trying out the direct engine drive, the lake. Crash Dive never said what she was looking for down there… She looked behind herself again - the Maus was gaining on her, and fast. “C-Crash Dive! Wait! Don’t do~~”
 
Her hooves hit a slick patch in the road. She’d tripped. Small mercy was she at least managed to land belly-up ~~ little comfort that did her, since it just made it easier for her to watch the Maus rolling forwards, the black of the meter-wide tracks engulfing her vision.
 
Funny how strange the sensation is, thick inflated rubber tracks so easily starting to press hooves and hind legs flat against the ground.