April 26 2025: 11:30 AM

“If we go back, we should go to Denver” 47%

Wayfinder could see good reasons to consider both kinds of destinations, either somewhere remote and rural, or going back to her home. If it weren’t for Sunburst, she probably would’ve suggested the former. Her own hometown would’ve made a good fit in that regard, far enough away that it would be safe from the worst of what happened in the city.

But Sunburst knew things. She had felt his confidence just being near him. But that would probably not be a very convincing argument for her friends. “When we’re ready to go, I think Denver is the best play. Larger groups can make stronger demands. A few infected by ourselves, maybe they handwave us out of mattering, or forget about us. When it’s time, we should go back where we started.”

“It’ll be time soon,” Peter said. “I don’t think we can guarantee the roads, or being able to get fuel again. We’ll probably be on foot for the last part of the trip.”

“Hoof,” Wayfinder corrected, holding one of hers up. “Not really feet, anymore.”

He groaned, “Fine, sure. We don’t have to change words like that around, but we could. The meaning still seems clear.”

They spent that night together, even now that the climate control was back on and the house was comfortable inside. It meant someone she could talk to each morning, someone who practiced magic with her and didn’t judge whether her choice of activities was worthwhile.

Besides, she always had more comfortable dreams when she was with someone else—dreams of vast green spaces, of gently swaying grass and homes built for four legs, filled with smiling people. Somewhere she wouldn’t be a stranger, or get called “infected” by anyone she passed. Somewhere that would see the idea of trying to “return” to a bipedal body as absurd.

“Would be nice if we had more types of ponies,” she told Peter that morning, resting up against his chest. She’d yet to allow anything more intimate than that between them, though the temptation got stronger every day. The more familiar that scent became, the harder it would be to say no if he asked. But he hadn’t asked, so she let him stay. “We’d be able to do more if we did.”

He grunted, then rested his hoof around her, moving her just a little closer. That silenced her for a few seconds, some distant part of Elliot rebelling at the sensation. He would never have tolerated this, wearing nothing in a bed with a man. He would’ve been repulsed at the idea, but…

How could she be? Another heartbeat, someone holding her, someone who knew she’d been Elliot before, and didn’t care.

“How’d you figure? More birds like Sam? I’m not sure he’s ever gonna figure out how to fly.”

I’m pretty sure he’s already flown a few times, and he’s just waiting for the best time to show it off. “Not just birds. That spellbook talks about other kinds sometimes. The ‘weather magic’ section mentions ‘pegasai’, and the part about plant growth talks about ‘Earth Ponies’. There are hints at other kinds too, but that isn’t what the book is supposed to be about. We’re obviously Unicorns.”

He closed his eye again, stretching out on the bed, and trying to pull her down with him. “Can’t we talk about it later?”

She resisted, sitting up instead. “I saw them walking to Denver. Ponies… without horns. Most didn’t have them, actually. I think a few had wings, but still looked like us. Not huge like Sam. We shouldn’t be trying to survive on our own.”

He rolled back the other way, facing her. “I agree. Hiding in a cabin was short-term. We just needed somewhere to stay away from the city, and any nuclear weapons they might decide to drop. Since that isn’t happening…”

“We have to go back,” Wayfinder told her friends, over breakfast. They were all together in the kitchen, gathered around where she’d just made waffles. They were out of real butter, and the batter was mostly made from chunky blended grain.

It still tasted more or less the way she expected. With a little syrup, each bite was close enough to serve as a familiar comfort food. “I’ve looked over our supplies—at the rate we’re going through it, it might last one more week, maybe. But then we’d be screwed if we had to go anywhere. Which we would have to, since we’re out of food.”

Ruby ate in front of a notebook. She usually had one with her now, floated between rooms along with the pen. She couldn’t yet move both objects at once with any skill. Though if she’d actually participated in more magic practice, she probably could have moved them both. “We can’t buy more?”

“No.” Wayfinder waved at the window. They didn’t keep these back ones shut all the time, since they didn’t face the road. In theory, someone might peer inside from the back. But recreational hikers were far rarer than they had been. “There’s not supposed to be any infected in town. You can’t hide and pretend you’re not transformed like before. Unless you think you could master the greater illusion spell long enough to look human…”

“Spell,” Sam repeated. He gestured out a side window with one claw. “I can think of another kind of spell for us to use. Break into empty houses and raid their pantries. Just see which ones have no one living in them, and take whatever food they left behind. From my trips at night, I can tell you it’s like… one in ten of these has anyone here right now, and most of those are close to downtown. Most of those people probably won’t even come back to their vacation cabins.”

“They also probably didn’t leave a lot of food,” Peter countered. “And if we get caught one time, we bring down the authorities on us. They already know where we are.”

“Well, Ruby?” Sam asked. “Don’t you think we could make this work? Could always have the horses in our group eat grass to save resources.”

Ruby’s face twisted into disgust. “Grass. No thanks. I’d rather take my chances somewhere else.”

“You were already eating hay!” Sam protested, holding his claws out flat. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

But the damage was already done. Ruby slid her notebook closer to Wayfinder’s seat. “What were you thinking we would do?”

“Denver,” she said. “Peter says it’s the largest isolation zone for three states. Hopefully that means it gets plenty of resources. Even if it doesn’t, enough ponies should be able to figure things out for ourselves. So long as we have a good mix of different types. We don’t really need help long term, other than help being left alone.”

“So we should get out of here in a way that makes sense,” Peter said. “Preferably leaving behind as little of the useful stuff as possible. I won’t suggest we rip things out of the house—I don’t think we have the skill to do much of that safely. But anything we might need, we should bring. All our coms gear, the camping supplies, computers and any useful food or other supplies. Preferably we get it all into that sedan, which we convert somehow to drive.”

“I can handle that part,” Sam said. “If we’re doing this. I’m perfectly happy staying up here too. Plenty of fish in the river, I could probably do fine here indefinitely. But…” he looked sidelong at Ruby. “I don’t want to stay here alone. If you’re going, I’m going.”

“I’m… going,” Ruby said. “Hopefully a few of my professors are still in town. If they’re horses too, they’ll be just as motivated to find a cure for this. I’d like to share my data.”

Ruby inhaled sharply, then exhaled. No, finding a cure was much less important than their basic survival. But she wanted one too—it was still good that someone was hunting for it.

“When would we leave?” Peter asked her. “Did you have a specific date in mind? I know how long our food will last…”

“Can we be ready by tomorrow morning?” she asked. That question was mostly focused on Sam. “Can you have the car ready by then?”

“For me, sure. I’ve still got these.” He flexed one claw, then the other. “Just got to modify the seat so it’s more comfortable, and build something basic to extend the pedals. Will be harder for one of you, since you can’t use the wheel or any of the other knobs and stuff.”

I can probably drive better than you can at this point. Each day she practiced did more than increase the maximum weight or distance she could manage. Her fine control was improving too. That author knew what they were talking about. “We can’t know the condition of the roads for sure,” she said. “So we have to pack as though we might have to abandon the car. Put all your most important things in the saddlebags we give you. Anything else in the car could get left behind.”

“Saddlebags,” Sam repeated, brushing a wing past her on his way to the sink. “That’s cute, Princess Blue. Don’t ever change.”

And for that you get the worst one.

They spent the next several hours packing and preparing to leave. Sam brought the car into the garage, while the others split essentials between four bags, with the heavy stuff grouped into two. Naturally she made sure the spellbook went into hers, though she separated her photocopies of the most important pages into Peter’s bag, just in case.

They packed up everything that seemed useful that wasn’t bolted down, filled up every bottle with water from the house system. Their coms gear and computers went into the packs, along with their modest camping solar panel and generator. Finally it was packed—anything edible or useful, loaded into the car.

“Thanks enough, Way,” Peter said, around sundown. She was the only one left in the basement, searching the shelves for anything they’d forgot to bring. But after the third pass, she’d found nothing. “We’re good. Everything’s ready.”

He flicked off the light, and a steady blue glow from his horn replaced it, radiating from the doorway. “Come on.”

“I’m not going to bed yet,” she said, bouncing on her hooves. “I couldn’t sleep yet. Too anxious.”

He flicked his tail. “Me neither. Hot tub is waiting. Pretty sure it’s warm, too.”

She advanced on him, glaring. “I thought we said we were saving the gas for more important things.”

“We were. But now we’re leaving, so we’re not. Come in and relax. You’ve been working hard enough.”

She followed him up the steps, however begrudgingly. “I don’t have a swimsuit that fits.”

“You don’t have anything that fits. You’re naked, remember? It’s okay, everyone’s skinny-dipping. You’ll be fine.”

She followed him out into the backyard, then out onto the deck. Sam had a bluetooth speaker out there, playing music louder than they would usually dare. The lights were on, and an open cooler of beers rested next to the spa, which bubbled energetically. Ruby was already inside, stretched out with her forelegs over the side and legs vanished into the water.

“You got her!” Sam reached into the cooler, and tossed a can in her direction. “Here, Wary! Think fast!”

She did, catching it easily out of the air. “Is this really… the best idea?”

“Who cares? We’re leaving tomorrow morning. No way we were saving room in the car for this stuff. It’s our last chance.”

Wayfinder considered for a few seconds—then the can cracked open on its own, spilling onto the deck from the throw. She tilted it over the railing until the foam stopped, then raised it to her lips and drank. “My dad was the only one who liked these. Just as awful as I remember.” She took another long drink, then set it down next to the tub, and climbed in.

It had been too long since she had a proper bath, rather than a freezing swim in a mountain pond. Their water was too precious to waste this way. She sunk down lower, placing her back over a patch of energetic bubbles.

Peter clambered in next to her, floating his own can next to him all the while. “I know we came here to hide from the bomb,” he said. “But I think I’m gonna miss it here. A shelter in some isolation zone won’t have these amenities.”

“We could always stay,” Sam suggested, splashing in next to Ruby. Without a second’s hesitation, he placed her on his lap, or the bird equivalent, both forelegs resting over her. “Nothing’s forcing us to leave tomorrow. We could go with my plan, find food another way.”

“No,” Wayfinder snapped, a little sharper than she meant. She shifted sideways, until she was up against Peter too. If they were going to take this relaxing time and make her uncomfortable, she could play that game too!

The unicorn clearly didn’t mind what she was doing. After a second’s confusion, he adjusted to hold her against his chest with more stability. “Should’ve done this sooner,” he said. “I know we’re out here to hide. But if we give up living, then the disease won. I don’t plan on letting that happen.”

“Me either,” Way levitated her can over, and drained it in another few long sips. She tossed it aside, then relaxed. “Maybe there’s a way to cure this, maybe not. But no matter what happens, I’m not gonna live like I just escaped a bomb. I’m gonna live from now on.”

Ruby watched her for a few seconds, her face partially obscured by the bubbles and steam. “That would be a change, Wayfinder. Duty, planning, work work work. How many extra shifts can I take? When was the last time you did anything fun? Even before the pandemic…”

She puffed out her chest, stubborn. “Learning magic is fun. Sometimes we hike up to the waterfall or out into the forest. And there are some practice games in the book that improve your—”

“See what I mean!” Ruby interrupted, loudly. “It’s the same with everything you do. I bet if we asked you about skiing you’d tell us something about muscle tone and hand-eye coordination.”

Sam laughed along with her. Peter was a little more subdued, other than holding her a little closer in the water. Even if it was true, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You can’t think of one time, can you?”

She glared across the spa at her friends. She could argue, insist on all the ways her strategy was more practical, lining up fun activities with things she had to do regardless. But that would only invite more laughter.

She levitated a second can over, and cracked it open. Her memories of the beverage were true in at least one other respect: it stopped tasting so awful after the first can. By the third, she might even start enjoying it.

She didn’t really listen to the conversation for a while, nursing her beverage. The further she got, the bolder she became.

“I can think of… maybe one thing,” she said, when she was done. Some minutes later, she couldn’t say exactly how long it had been. Long enough that it was completely dark, and the speaker was playing something else. “Something fun, I mean.”

Ruby looked up from what she’d been doing, apparently sifting pine-needles into a rough illustration on the deck floor. “Oh. Took that long? What is it?”

“This.” She twisted around in her seat, tugged Peter’s head down with a little magic, and kissed him.

She felt his shock briefly, a twitch like he might pull away. But then he seemed to make up his mind, and held her tighter, leaning down.

Why had she waited so long to try this again? Was being a pony supposed to make this less enjoyable? Clearly not—all it really meant was that she had less to do. Being a pony meant someone else was holding her, not the other way around. Why had that scared her before?

It didn’t scare her anymore. Things got fuzzy, she let go only reluctantly. Yes, there was something fun she could do. Only now, she didn’t care what Ruby or Sam thought about her hobbies.

“Point to Princess Blue,” Sam said, tossing her can out of the spa. It wasn’t quite empty yet, but she must’ve dropped it while her concentration was… elsewhere. “Should’ve expected that one, Ruby. What else was she gonna say?”

Ruby splashed her way past them out of the spa, and took a towel from the waiting table. “To the victor go the spoils. Don’t stay out too late though, Way. If something happens and Sam can’t drive, you’re next in line. You’ve got the best dexterity with your magic.”

“Yeah, I know.” She demonstrated it by grabbing the last two cans out of the cooler, offering one to Peter, before claiming one for herself. “Won’t stay up too late.”

Sam turned the music up a little, then grabbed a towel for himself. He lingered in the doorway another second longer, eyes on the can. He snatched it out of the air in his grip, suddenly enough that her concentration broke. “Sorry, Way. You’ve had enough already. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

She considered a few different arguments—but in the time it took her to figure out something smart to say, he was already gone. The blinds were even pulled shut, he wouldn’t be able to see any angry faces she wanted to make.

“Well?” Peter asked, nudging her shoulder. “Guess we’re alone.”

She nodded back at him, unblinking. “Why? What were you thinking?”

He kissed her again. This time she didn’t even have to do anything at first—it was all him, moving her in ways that she’d never even imagined someone else might hold her before. Firm, guiding her instead of the other way around. It didn’t really matter that she didn’t know how to be in this position, because Peter was leading her.

The longer she stayed there, the more she wondered why she’d taken so long. “That,” he said, several minutes later. They were both breathless now.

“Oh.” She brushed her hoof against his chest. “I guess that’s a good way to… start.”

“That’s all it has to be,” he said, holding his hoof between them, stopping her from reaching his mouth again. “Is this… what we want? Even though it might not last?”

Wayfinder knew what she should do. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what she wanted.

1. Kiss him until he stops talking.
2. Go inside and take a cold shower.