April 30, 1:51 PM

Retreat for now, come back with more help later (55%)

Wayfinder wanted to go in after Sunburst. That “lunatic” was important in more ways than sharing a book. What more did he know that wasn’t in the pages of that basic volume?

But charging into a place that this well-armed policeman said would be lethal to her, well—she didn’t have to be stupid about this. She’d made a connection here, one that might have other uses…

She turned to scamper after Lance, waiting only long enough for Hazel to join her. You’ll have to wait a little longer, Sunburst. Besides, if he could live long enough to survive in there until now, he would still be there in another day or two.

As soon as they were moving again, the policemare below her seemed to grow more energetic, a short yellow tail swishing behind her. Should that be more interesting than it was? Wayfinder’s attention didn’t linger like it might’ve on Ruby. “Do you guys ever work other shifts?” she began. “Like…intake? Or do you stay on one job the whole time?”

Lance glanced back at her once, but kept walking. “Of course we do everything. There’s no one else who can. In the early days, they had a crew from FEMA do intake. Technically, I guess it’s the same crew now. Only—” she flicked her tail out to one side. “You can guess what happened. PPE seems to slow the infection, but sooner or later it gets through anyway. The only true guarantee of staying safe is distance.”

Wayfinder nodded along, not wanting to interrupt. Any information this pony wanted to share might be useful to her. Besides, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something familiar in her cadence, albeit exaggerated and high-pitched. If she interrupted, the little mare might stop sharing. Or worse, not want them to follow her.

Their return path wasn’t through quite the same slum they’d used to exit. This road moved through upscale apartments, with the road relatively clear and more police on the walkway. Most buildings had a muscular-looking stallion or large bird waiting outside, wearing a little vest. Security.

“What are you wondering about, legs?” Lance asked. “Please don’t tell me you’re trying to get details about our security procedures. You do not want to try breaking out of here. That only ends one way.”

Hazel made a faint squeakling sound, nudging up against her side. A warning, though not one quite so coherent as a word.

“No,” she agreed hastily. “I know we have to stay separate.” She held out one leg. “I don’t wish this on anyone. Wish I still had my old life, meh as it was. I assume I’m still a carrier.”

That seemed to mollify Lance, who kept walking. That let her chance what she really wanted to know. “Some friends were coming into the zone behind me. I wonder if you might know how I could look them up. I don’t know exactly when they would’ve shown up, but…by now for sure.”

Lance shrugged. “You checked the buildings around where I found you? That’s quarantine block—from there to the red barriers. If they just got to the zone, they’re in there.”

She slowed as they reached an intersection, looking up at a towering, glittering building. It had been a hotel once, with a pool faintly visible on the upper stories. There were ponies swimming up there, others sunbathing. More significant, Wayfinder heard the steady thrum of a generator near the building. “Unless they’re VIPs. Then they’d come straight to this place. Your friends aren’t from that congressional flight, are they?”

She laughed, voice bitter. “Can’t say I’ve ever been that important. They’re no one, just a bird and a unicorn. Probably drove her in an old car full of supplies.”

Lance twitched. She glanced back at Wayfinder, for the first time seemed to really look at her, then the little mare following her. “Those were your friends?” She took a purposeful step closer. “And the reason you were waiting, would it have anything to do with the metric shitton of contraband they were transporting? Are you trying to smuggle shit into the zone?”

Her horn glowed, and the flap of Wayfinder’s bag flipped open. “What are you carrying in here, anyway?”

Panic swelled in her chest. Wayfinder fought back her instinct to shut the bag again. This little unicorn’s horn flickered when she tried to do anything. Her focus was unsteady, lacking the many hours of practice that Wayfinder had made. She could overpower her easily. Except that she had a gun, and a radio, and presumably some kind of authority here.

She dumped the bag out onto the pavement in front of them. But there was very little in there to find: just the book, and some notes with scrawled pages and half-imagined spells. One was the unlocking spell she’d used to get them inside, not long ago. Not that Lance showed any recognition. She picked up the book, then flipped through it, shuffling the pages while holding it upside-down.

After a second, she closed it, then set it back down on the pavement in front of her. At least she didn’t throw it there and damage the cover. “Maybe you didn’t know?”

“Ruby is my—a friend from college,” she said. “I don’t know what she’s been up to since we separated.” Not quite true. She had some idea of what she got up to with Sam. Didn’t seem to have any trouble adapting to his change, now. Eventually Way would stop resenting her for that. Not Sam so much; he wasn’t in a relationship to break.

“You’re lucky you didn’t come in with those two, or you’d be—” Lance said. Her horn started to glow, but Wayfinder was already doing it, gathering the discarded pages and pencils and the book into her bag. It still hurt her head, throbbing along with her heartbeat as the magic worked. But once she started, she was determined to finish, flicking it closed and looking back.

Right, most people can’t do this. “I’d be what?” she asked, tilting her head. “You know where my friends are?”

“In the hole,” came the eventual reply. “Lockup. Place for people who start shit. People who deserve it end up there, where they can’t hurt anyone else. Waiting on trials, I guess, but right now everything’s martial law, so…” she shrugged. “They don’t take visitors.”

She surged forward, resting a foreleg against Way’s chest. She was so small she could’ve stuck her head into the fluff there, without getting close to her neck. “What you just did, how long have you been able to do that? Moving multiple objects at once.”

“I…” she rubbed her horn, wincing at the tenderness there. Her injury was not happy with the sudden strain. Even now that she’d stopped floating things, it still throbbed near the base. “It happens without thinking,” she lied. “Then it hurts afterwards.”

She retreated, but couldn’t go far without bumping into Hazel. The bug was still following her, keeping her between herself and the officer. “Bet it would go away with practice,” Lance went on. “Listen. Sorry about going off on you. But if you’re talented enough to do that, if you can shoot straight, you could be useful. Maybe even help your friends while you’re at it.”

Wayfinder’s tail flicked, her ears perking up. “You were just telling us how…they don’t let you deputize the locals. That’s why you’re understaffed.” And you went after me without knowing who I am. What happened to insignificant things like “due process” and “probable cause” when the world ended? At least their little piece of it.

“Yeah, officially that’s true. Unofficially…” she moved past her, flicking her tail at the hotels. “Officers have to be trained somehow. But talent like yours is rare. Only one other newcomer in the last month could do half as much.”

She trailed off, expression distant and wistful. “His other talents make him useful too. But you don’t have to have a giant—” she trailed off, lowering her foreleg. Her ears folded back.

She lowered her voice, whispering. “We need help. And IDs—IDs are shit in here. Maybe we get you a new one. Say you were just finishing up the police academy or something. You didn’t share because you used to be a dude, that’s all. Now that you see how desperate we are, you were inspired. Surge of patriotism or some shit.”

She gestured, levitating over a few small rocks from the road. She set them both down on the ground in front of her, then pointed. “Show me.”

Working for the police was nowhere near what she imagined for her future. It might be a way of helping people, in a way. But how could she work for the people who had just locked up her friends?

I could find out where they’re holding them and get them out.

“I’ve got to take care of my sister.” She stepped sideways, indicating the bug behind her. “I want to make life better for everyone stuck in this place, but she needs me too. If I’m out doing what you do, who’s protecting her?”

Lance eyed the stones, which Way still hadn’t moved. “It’s a better life than you’ll find anywhere else in this place. Better rations, safer quarters.” She kept her voice low, though it wouldn’t be enough to stop Hazel from hearing. “Safer in there than out here. The infected who end up like her don’t do very well in here. Wither away, like she’s doing. Looks like skin and bones under that jacket, if she’s got either.”

True enough, though it made the little bug whimper and recoil. Though from what she remembered, the bug seemed more vital now than she had been when they met in that abandoned house. Her cheeks didn’t look sunken anymore, and neither did her eyes.

It’s not poison, it’s starvation. Her words made the bug light up even more, moving closer to her. She touched briefly to Way’s flank, searching for reassurance.

“She can come with me?” Wayfinder asked, a little louder. “I’m not budging on that. No sister, no me.”

Lance flicked her tail to either side. “That part’s easy. So long as she doesn’t mind sharing your room at the barracks. You think you’re the only one with loved ones? Please.”

She held out her hoof. “I saw what you can do. One conversation with the super, and you’re in for training. Prove yourself, and you’re in a position to ask for a few favors. Like those friends of yours…”

Wayfinder had a decision to make.

1. Join the military police, for now. It probably meant safety for Hazel, and a way to get to her friends.

2. Try to find another way to rescue them. Any group that would throw people into a place called “the hole” without a trial isn’t one she can join.