May 21, 9:30 AM

Take Ruby to the Police Barracks (77%)

Wayfinder only needed to take one look at Ruby to know that her friend didn’t need to be anywhere near those dirty, desolate quarantine shelters. The others locked in there would sense her weakness, and probably take advantage. Not that she had very much left to steal.

So she brought the mare back to the barracks with her, took her to the showers, then gave up her cot for the night. “We’ll have to share it unfortunately—not a lot of space in here, and Hazel gets the air bed. But it’s better than being outside.”

Ruby said little until that point, more or less inviting Wayfinder to lead her wherever she wanted to take her. But now that they were safe in the bedroom, she finally looked up.

“Rumor was—two people got shot trying to sneak in the day we arrived. Blew up in some… magical blast.”

She grinned, and answered at a whisper. “Yeah, that was us. Got this thing in the process.” She twisted around to show the cutie mark more clearly. Not that she expected Ruby to care much—but she was bound to notice sooner or later. “Sorry I couldn’t get you out sooner. Turns out, there’s not a lot of time for rule of law during the apocalypse. Had to get creative.”

Ruby nodded weakly, closing her eyes. “You think that guard was… telling the truth? About Sam?”

She shrugged. “We’ll find out when Hazel gets back. I told her to ask around. But I’m guessing so—an escape like that would have a lot of witnesses, and putting in a net would take a lot of time and effort. Not worth it just to trick us.”

“No matter… what they say…” Ruby began. “Sam can’t come here. Big escape… someone will remember him. Would be too dangerous.”

“With you there.” Wayfinder said. “Assuming he’s still in town at all. Maybe he’s waiting for us to find him. Something for you to do once you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah.” Ruby reached for her, touching her foreleg on Wayfinder’s neck. “Thank… you. For coming for me. Even after…”

She pulled away. “I didn’t do it because we used to be dating. Which—don’t tell anyone here we’re not still dating, until you move out. You won’t have to do anything, but it’s kinda only for family. So there’s my sister Hazel, and my partner—you. Don’t rock the boat.”

“Consider it stable,” Ruby said. “Will be nice to sleep without… watching my back.”

Ruby had a great deal of recovering to do, it turned out. It was well over a week before she stopped looking shriveled and braved leaving the police compound for the first time. Another few days before she would do it by herself. But she had to, because Wayfinder had to take on other duties.

The basics of telekinesis could take up only so long before most of her students had made it through the class, and it was time for personal practice. That was the point she could either start teaching more advanced magic, or—take other responsibilities.

Wayfinder opted for the latter. Without the pressure of her ex at a good friend rotting away in prison, she could take her time and be more methodical. No, she didn’t need to volunteer the existence of actual spells and their versatility to this organization she did not trust and had already proven itself capable of all sorts of mistreatment on its citizens. Most of them were guilty, perhaps—but that did not justify the condition Ruby had been in.

So she took on clerical work instead. Her dexterity and strength with her magic remained unequaled, and that worked for more than shooting human weapons. There were other dragons to slay in the office. Failing to conquer those enemies had already caused suffering for the Denver Isolation Zone, since unfiled paperwork meant less supplies from the feds, fewer shipments, and displeased supervisors.

Wayfinder had never enjoyed office work—that was probably why she’d ended up in a service job in the first place. But filling out forms and typing up incident reports gave her more than just an excuse to stay employed: it was a source of information.

She learned, for example, that there were just over 900,000 people believed to be inside the isolation zone, not counting any deaths since arrival. She learned that shipments from the feds were becoming more infrequent. Rather than arriving every three days as they used to, shipment intake manifests arrived only when they contained “VIP infected.” The zone dedicated a significant portion of its resources to guaranteeing that the VIPs staying in a small number of hotels had uninterrupted power, water, and resources. Nearly fifty members of the House and Senate were living there, along with staffers, lobbyists, and similar. Apparently they still sent in their votes—by video.

It obviously wasn’t sustainable. With fewer shipments and nearly no local production, the camp was about a month from starvation, with that buffer getting smaller all the time.

When she wasn’t working, Wayfinder used what time she could to study, practicing a number of spells she thought would be needed for her trip into the Overgrowth. Sometimes that meant leaving the barracks compound to practice, where no unicorns would stumble into her work and report her.

Other times, she could make do with the extra space in the bedroom, with Ruby or Hazel to help.

That little bug improved even faster than Ruby. The holes in her legs remained—but when she finally molted about a month after arriving, her wrinkled, cracked outer shell was replaced with one shiny and black. The process was revolting to watch—but Wayfinder remained with her anyway, because the kid looked terrified and she was not going to leave a child to endure the consequences of her strange transformation on her own.

Eventually though, she had made as many preparations as she could. Ruby still hadn’t found Sam, but she wasn’t entirely convinced the bird would be much use with the effort anyway. She waited for a weekend, put in some extra hours before it started, and arranged her schedule so she would have three days in a row without any work.

Way had supplies too, her backpack loaded with food and water and a handgun. Much more importantly, she had carefully transcribed and prepared a half-dozen different spells, each one written on a large piece of paper just waiting for her to activate it.

“Holy shit,” Lance said, when Way finally stepped out of her room. “You look like a proper wizard, Blue. Is the convention scene starting up again?”

She smiled nervously, tucking her collection of scrolls into the open “holster” on one side of the bag. Each one had a colored tab sticking out, so she could draw the correct one in a hurry. They’d do her no good if she had to desperately search while something attacked her. The handgun on the other side was similarly ready, though a concealed metal hook would keep it from wandering away while out in the city. Her magic could remove that just as smoothly as drawing the weapon, so she wasn’t worried.

“Guess so. Just trying to be prepared. I was…” she hesitated. “Can I ask a favor, Lance?” The mare was on her way to the showers, and smelled like she’d been in PT for hours at least. She probably had been: that tiny pony seemed determined to make up for what the infection had made her using the swiftest and most comfortable means available to her.

“Depends what it is.” The mare stopped, flicking her short tail. “You’ve been cool since getting here. But you gotta give if you want to take.”

“It’s nothing big.” She gestured back at the room behind her. “I haven’t told Hazel I’m heading out today. My little sister… just let her know that I might be gone for a day or two. I’ve left some cash in the usual place if she needs it. And… keep an eye on her. She’s big enough to handle herself, but…”

Lance frowned. “A few days? Where are you going that you’ll be away that long? And—without your sister…”

“Hopefully nowhere,” Way answered, maybe a little too quickly. “I’m just trying to be prepared when it happens. If it happens. I don’t expect you to watch her every day, Hazel’s a good girl. Just keep an eye on her. Peter knows her, I’m sure he’ll put in a good word for her if you need it.”

Technically dubious—Peter had met Hazel the same time she did, but never seemed as interested in helping. If he had his way, they’d probably have pawned her off on the Zone orphanage by now. They didn’t owe her or her brother anything.

If Hazel wasn’t such a frightening kind of infected, she might have agreed. But she’d seen enough of how ponies often treated her to know what was waiting for her in such a place.

But by the same token, she couldn’t possibly invite her along for a trip into the Overgrowth. “What about your girl?” Lance asked, glancing back at the room. “I know she’s been, uh—slow to recover. But no way she couldn’t keep an eye on the kid.”

“Ruby’s coming with me,” she said. “And before you ask—it’s a safety issue. No way Hazel could come. I haven’t told her when we planned to leave, so we could… make it as painless as possible.”

“Fine, fine.” Lance rolled her eyes. “But if you don’t show up to teach, I’m not covering for you. You sink or swim on whatever the hell stupid thing you’re about to do.”

Wayfinder could ask nothing more.

She crossed the city with Ruby after that. A month of living here had taught her which paths were safe; through the hotels and luxury suites of downtown, where the many VIPs lived in relative plenty while everyone else fought for space in the slums. They could still walk that way, since staff and supplies needed to reach each new housing area. So long as they didn’t try to go past any of the fences, security guards would just assume they were on their way to work in a different hotel, and let them go.

“I hope you’re sure about this,” Ruby said. Her former girlfriend had only a small pack compared to the relatively heavy one Wayfinder carried. Ruby wasn’t that much shorter, but she was still recovering. Best to leave her as free to react as possible in case they ran into any danger. “Because I’m not sure how much we have to gain. Even if we find this guy, you met him for five minutes. How is he supposed to help?”

Wayfinder’s tail flicked in annoyance. “He’s the one who taught me everything I know about magic. He has artifacts that look like they came from another world. If the authorities knew how valuable he is, they’d have mounted an expedition into the Overgrowth before now. But they don’t, so it’s on us.”

She reached back, resting one hoof briefly on her supplies. “But without all this, I’m not sure the authorities would be able to get inside even if they wanted to. They don’t have the tools, we do. A magical threat needs a magical solution.”

The Overgrowth was waiting for them, in exactly the condition Wayfinder remembered. Enormous trees that ripped right out of the streets, vines covering buildings, ferns taller than her body swaying gently in the wind. The growth got so thick that she could only see about a hundred feet in, before even full sunlight was lost.

“Do you think he’ll be able to change us back? Cure this disease?”

Wayfinder winced. They hadn’t discussed that particular subject during their first meeting together. But she imagined someone as compassionate as him probably would have done that, if he could.

Instead of answering, she pointed down another street. “See the burned stuff there? Fire team just passed that way. My guess is, that will be a clear path in.”

“Into… something,” Ruby whispered. “We still don’t know how we’re going to find this pony. Even if he’s still alive.”

I’m kinda following my instincts here. But she wasn’t going to tell Ruby that. She was happy enough that her ex had even agreed to come along. “I did my research,” she said instead. “There are two ways in. Main roads are clearer, but there are sightings of… things. Or we could try to follow the game trails, ignoring where the old streets used to be. If things live in here, they’ll make paths we can follow.”

Even standing near the entrance, Wayfinder felt her coat stand on end. Magic raged within, nothing like the structure she manifested from her horn and copied into the spells she brought. She still didn’t know what they were even looking at, or whether her meager preparations would be enough.

“You did the research, you decide which way to go,” Ruby said. “Give me the gun. I’ll cover you.”

Wayfinder had to decide the path.

1. Take the main roads, face whatever guards them.
2. Sneak in the narrow paths, hoping to go unseen.