~~~|*/\*|~~~

So I should probably actually start talking about my dreams. That’s what this was supposed to be about.

And what dreams would you like to discuss?

Uh… I guess the earliest ones. I started having this one right after my dad and I got split up. Last time I had it… maybe a month or two ago? I try to black out so I don’t remember my dreams. Probably had it sooner than that and I just don’t remember it.

That’s quite alright. What is the dream about?

Well… it changes sometimes, but usually I’m a foal again, standing on one side of a stream, and I see my dad on the other. He turns around and starts to walk away, so I try and follow him, but when I step into the stream, suddenly it’s like a whole river. The water gets deeper and the river gets wider as I try to cross, and soon I’m swimming after him. While all this is happening, he’s just walking away. I usually try shouting, telling him to wait, but… he just keeps walking… until I can’t see him anymore. Hold on...

Oh, do you want to get up?

Nah, I’m just getting comfortable… but yeah, no matter how fast I swim, I can never get to him. I’ve tried jumping over the stream before, and I just splash down in it like a jackass.

What if you weren’t to try and follow him?

I’ve tried that too. Same thing happens. And then I’m just alone, and crying, and I wake up.

Do you blame him, perhaps?

For what?

For leaving you. In the dream, of course.

No… I mean… I don’t understand why he has to go… There’s nothing out there. I want him to come back, but he never does. I… I just… I wish there was something I could do to make him stay. Some way to make him come back.

It’s alright. Just relax… there… Our dreams don’t always make sense. Believe me, I know exactly how troubling that can be, but I also know that your father loved you very much.

What do you think it means? The dream, I mean.

Well… I’m no expert, but… I know how you feel it was unfair that he was taken from you. Your dreams are reflecting that, in my opinion. You are helpless to stop him from leaving, no matter how hard you try. You were too young to stop them, and… well, it sounds as though you feel guilty.

Yeah… that’s pretty spot on…

But he told you to run. He wanted you to be safe, because he knew that you wouldn’t survive if you stayed with him. You shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what he wanted.

Yeah… yeah, I know.

And you know what else?

Hmm?

I think he would be proud of the pony you’ve become. You’re very brave, and you’re very sweet.

Heh… well… I don’t know about that, but… thank you.

~~~|*/\*|~~~

Chapter Six – Accountability

|[  7 ]|[  7 ]|[o8- ]|

Arbu wasn’t as clean or as fancy as Tenpony, and it certainly wasn’t as safe as Tenpony. Naturally Double Tap felt very much at home there. Several familiar faces lit up at the sight of him as he and Paharita passed through the front gate, exchanging nods and greetings. The residents of Arbu were a very friendly lot, for the most part. He prided himself on the fact that he mostly remembered their names.

However, something didn’t seem quite right as he walked through the Arbu commons. A stale tension clung to everyone’s smiles. A colt sat, sobbing and alone. Several other ponies had redness to their eyes, as though they had been crying recently, fighting to maintain their cheerful demeanor as Tap met their passing gazes. Several ponies stood around the cooking fires, staying warm as the rain continued at barely a sprinkle. He immediately recognized the green mare and her milk-colored, one-eyed companion. They looked to be having a heated discussion, frequently jabbing their hooves off toward the residence of Arbu’s craziest, oldest stallion.

The green mare arched her brows as the one-eyed mare gestured toward him, abruptly halting their conversation. Rita had already parted ways with him, haggling for a bowl of stew.

“Good to see you again! What brings ya round these parts?”

“Hungry, same as always.” Smiles and nods were exchanged. “Emerald, did something happen here earlier?”

“Well, shoot, ya got me… we had a lil’ scrape with some bandits.” She flashed her smile again as Tap’s expression darkened. “Nothin’ we couldn’t handle, mind you!”

He nodded slowly. “Any losses?”

“Only a few on our side, but you know we always try an’ look on the bright side o’ things.” Emerald gave a single nod. “We’ll be jus’ fine.”

“And did any of them survive?”

“Mmhmm, but we shouldn’t be havin’ no trouble from that lot in the days ahead.”

“Good,” he breathed.

“If you do, though,” Rita interrupted, suddenly at his side again, “you know we have a discount rate for bandits and raiders!”

“Ah remember!” Emerald said with a smile. “Don’tchu worry yer feathery lil’ noggin.” Rita giggled and bounded off again. Emerald returned her attention to Tap. “Might not need hired help much longer, though.”

He cocked a brow. “Oh yeah? You started training your guards better?”

The mare snickered and waved her hoof dismissively. “Naw, nothin’ like that. That Stable-Dweller an’ her friends stopped in right when we needed her! She’s really changin’ things ‘round these parts.”

Tap felt a jolt down his spine. He couldn’t decide if it was anxiety or excitement. “Really now…” His eye twitched as he feigned disinterest. “I hear she’s a pretty big deal. Nothing I haven’t heard of before, though. I don’t think she’ll be around much longer.”

“We’ll jus’ see, won’t we?” Emerald shrugged, laughing. “That DJ Ponethree sure loves to talk about her, though. Ah recon he’s got a crush on her.”

“Wouldn’t know. Not a fan.” Tap glanced away, chewing the inside of his cheek. “That Stable-Dweller say if she was coming back?”

“Well, Ah recon she would be, seein’ as we told her to come back fer dinner.”

 He nodded and cleared his throat. “Anyway, gimmie something to eat, yeah?”

One delicious bowl of radigator stew later, he was approaching a home that occupied a shop on the very edge of the former strip mall. There were no holes in his memory regarding the family that lived there. An enormous, grizzled-looking stallion looked up from the tanning rack out front as Tap came closer. His entire left ear was missing, and a dozen long, deep scars ran along his fore and hind legs. He wore a thick leather vest that was covered in bite marks and a necklace of sharp, pointy teeth. A grin curled his lips.

With a smoker’s gravel in his voice that almost sounded like it belonged to a ghoul, he shouted, “I thought I heard you yapping around, you scar covered son-of-a bitch!”

“Steel Trap, you fat fuck,” Tap retorted, “take a look in the mirror!”

The pony burst out laughing, lumbering toward Tap and rearing up to give him a hug. Tap felt his spine pop in multiple places. “How’ve you been, little man?”

“I’m still breathing, aren’t I?” He took a deep breath as he was released from the masculine embrace, grinning up at the stallion that towered over him. “I heard you had some trouble today. Did any—”

“Nah, we’re all doing just fine. Shook up the wife, though.” Steel Trap looked over his wither at the door behind him. “Skimmer was just out here a minute ago. You watch yourself around her, now. No funny business.”

Tap gave a toothy grin and held up a forehoof. “No funny business. You have my word.” He stepped past Steel, then turned, ears perked. “Oh, and Rita might be stopping by to talk about a taxidermy project. You’ve been warned.”

Steel Trap snickered, nodded, and picked up his tanning knife between his teeth.

The home of Steel Trap and his family had supposedly been a hardware store in the pre-war days, which was coincidentally appropriate. On the outside, it didn’t look drastically different from the other homes in Arbu, but they had renovated the interior to make it into a proper home. Most of Arbu’s residents specialized in cooking or hunting, and while Steel Trap’s family could certainly hunt and cook, they seemed to favor crafting over everything else.

The interior of their home had a stale, wooden scent that was supposedly considered pleasant once upon a time. The large, cluttered chamber he stood in acted as a living room, and also where they sold their goods. Painted carvings lined the pony-crafted shelves and hung from the walls, and half a dozen mannequins were spread around the room, each of them wearing radigator leather that had been crafted into clothing and armor. A few taxidermied animals also occupied the space, the largest of which being an enormous, rearing bear that looked to be missing patches of fur. It was no fault of Steel’s; yao guai were simply hideous. Some of Skimmer’s artwork seemed to be on display, but he couldn’t tell if they intended to sell any of it.

All in all, Tap considered it a testament to what a pony could accomplish if they stopped whining about the state of the world and did the best they could with what was available.

Several colts of varying age stampeded toward the door. He stepped out of the way, receiving an unintelligible barrage of hellos in passing. Their mother nodded to him as she took her time following them. She was a sturdy mare, with an air of experience and intelligence about her that most of the residents of Arbu just seemed to lack. A long, pale scar stretched from her left cheek, over her muzzle, all the way to the right side of her forehead. She wasn’t wearing much in the way of clothes besides a series of bracelets and necklaces decorated with bones.

“Evening, Nette.” He glanced back as she walked by. “Where’s the fire?”

“Oh, they’re just getting all the jitters out before I send them to bed for the evening.” Annette paused at the door. “Steelie already talked to you about Skimmer, right?”

Tap chewed his lower lip. “Kinda.”

“She’s almost old enough that we won’t be able to tell her what she can and can’t do…” She looked beyond the doorway, watching her children playing outside. “I know that we can’t stop her from running off after you, but she’s still my little girl. My only girl. Promise me you’ll keep her safe.”

“Anything so much as brushes against her; your husband will have new body parts to make jewelry out of.”

Annette took a long, slow breath through her nose, smiling. “That’s what I thought. You’re a good pony, and I know you’ll make her happy.”

She stepped out, the sound of laughing foals echoing into their home.

Tap turned and headed for the back of the ground floor. A painting caught his attention. Skimmer had painted the silhouette of a unicorn leaning against a concrete wall, with a pair of silenced pistols levitating and ready to fire. Grinning, he shook his head and pressed on. Through a doorway in the back lie the kitchen, full of appliances Steel and Nette had hauled in from Manehattan. Along the back wall was a pair of staircases. The staircase to the right led up to the bedrooms. The staircase to the left led down to the basement.

The basement was a dimly lit maze of half-finished projects, and the low lighting allowed him to see that some of the wood they had harvested emitted a soft glow. Tap exhaled quietly, arching his back as he began to slink through the unfinished merchandise. A lone couch sat in a clearing on the other side of the room, surrounded by easels and buckets of paint.

“Long time no see,” came a small voice from behind him.

Double Tap glanced back, meeting the yellow-eyed gaze of a filly that was just a bit too young to be called a full grown mare. She wore a finely oiled and intricately crafted radigator hide, its toothy snout hanging over her head like a hood. A few locks of her curly mane had fallen across her face, reminding him of algae floating on the surface of pond water. Her smile practically radiated warmth.

He shook his head with a grin. “You say that every time you see me.”

Skimmer nudged a stuffed radigator aside and stepped next to him, giving an affectionate nuzzle. “And how often do I see you?”

Tap shrugged, rolling his eyes. “Once or twice a week, usually.”

“Well, that feels like a long time!”

Tap snorted out a laugh, and she giggled along with him. “How have you been?” he asked.

“I’ve been getting by, like always.” She shrugged, then bolted up straight. “You know what’s coming up, though, don’t you?”

“Uhhhh…” Tap furrowed his brow, pretending that he had forgotten. “Shit, I dunno.”

She frowned and prodded him with a forehoof. “Oh come on, guess!”

“Your…” Tap glanced down at her, fighting back his smile. She grinned, her radigator hood bobbing as she nodded. “Birthday?”

Skimmer pranced in place, the zipper of her radigator suit jingling along. “My birthday!” She giggled quietly, wiggling in a bit closer. “So… when are you going take me with you on one of your adventures?”

The smile on his lips lost some of its brightness, his brow weighted down with concern. “Come on now, we talked about this…”

“Aw, please?” She leaned away from him, meeting his gaze with big, pleading eyes. “I’m getting much better at sneaking around! Honest! I’ll bet you didn’t even know I was behind you until I said something!”

“Skimmer, you know I can’t let you come with us.” He lifted a fetlock to her chin, gently rubbing. “It’s too dangerous, and you’re too young.”

The young mare pouted. “But you said that last year!”

Though her display was very cute, Tap maintained his resolve. “And I meant it. I mean it this year, too. I don’t want you to end up in a ditch somewhere, especially not because of me.”

“Fiiiine…” she said with a deep sigh. “It just gets so boring around here. Pa wouldn’t even let me take shots at the bandits. I know that there’s a whole world out there, and I want to see it with you more than anything.”

“You’ll see it soon enough.” He nuzzled her on the forehead. “But not until I know that you’re ready.”

Skimmer stepped away, then turned back toward him, lidding her eyes and batting her lashes. “Well… if you won’t let me go with you, can we at least—”

He narrowed his eyes, grinning. “Not a chance, Glade Skimmer. Your dad would skin me alive.” Skimmer nickered and scowled, but Tap just stuck his forehoof under her hood and tussled her mane. “Plus, I promised no funny business, so… maybe on your birthday.”

She nodded slowly, her scowl melting back into a smile. “Pa still thinks you’re bad for me, doing what you do for a living, but…” Skimmer looked away, her ears briefly folding back. “He’s killed ponies before. I’ve killed a pony before. I don’t really see what the big deal is.”

“What I do is different, and you know that. You and your family do what you have to do to survive. Sometimes, that means you’ve gotta kill a few ponies if they try and fuck up your day, but that’s life. Me, though… ponies come to me when they want other ponies dead, and they pay me to get it done. It’s not really clean work.” He grinned. “Sure beats splashing around hunting radigators, though.”

Her face scrunched up at that, leaning closer to him. “Don’t you start talking shit about hunting radigators or so help me I will lay you out!”

Tap snickered, glancing down at the back of her head as she rested against his shoulder. “As long as he doesn’t hold it against me, I guess.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I mean, I’m not trying to drag you off into the night or anything.”

“No, he doesn’t blame you. He knows that you’ve been trying to change my mind, actually. I think Ma understands. She told me that, way back when, her Pa wasn’t too fond of what my Pa did for a living. But she followed her heart, and me and my brothers happened, so I guess it wasn’t so bad.” She giggled again, nuzzling the underside of his chin.

“You’re really serious about this, huh?”

“You’re the only boy I’ve ever had these feelings for. I knew from the first time I saw you that you were the one for me.” Tap took a breath to protest, but Skimmer cut him off. “And before you say it, yes, I know you get around. Thank Rita for that. I don’t mind sharing you if it means I get to be with you. I mean that.”

“But—”

Skimmer stomped her forehoof. “No buts! Ma and Pa have been trying to talk me out of it at every turn for the last year and a half, and I’m not about to give up now!” She raised her head proudly, donning an eager grin. “Someday soon, I’ll be leaving this shanty-town with you to live the life of an assassin.”

“Well,” he smiled, lifting a hoof to her breast, “you’ve got the attitude down. I’ll give you that.”

|[ /_\ ]|[ /_\ ]|[ /_\ ]|

Paharita was wrapping up her conversation with Steel Trap when Tap and Skimmer made their way up the stairs. From the amount of enthusiasm in her muffled voice, he could only assume that Steel had agreed to do the project. Tap could also assume that Rita would expect him to bring Littlepip’s entire body back after completing the hit.

I hope that cum-chugging feather-duster didn’t give him specifics. He flopped down on a couch that was in fairly good condition, and Skimmer settled beside him. Would he even get mad if he knew who I’ve been tracking? She did help them out when she and her crew were here earlier.

“You’ve got that serious look on your face,” said Skimmer, bringing him out of his thoughts. She had her lips twisted into a frown. “Is there something troubling you?”

“Been having a hard time with my latest contract.” He glanced away, one ear flicking. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Skimmer tilted her head. “If you’re worried about it, I’m pretty sure I should be, too.”

Tap grinned and gave her a sideways glance. “I’m pretty sure I already have a manager.”

“You don’t really think you’re getting off this couch without telling me what your deal is, do you?” The young mare cocked a brow.

“A threat?” He leaned back, feigning shock. “You’ll regret that, little lady!”

Both of his forehooves sank into the couch as he rammed her in the side with his head, bowling her over. She giggled and flailed all the while, trying to squirm away from his playful jabs. Moments later, her brothers stampeded back into the house. He and Skimmer paused as several sets of eyes focused on them. She looked up at him and grinned. In seconds, Tap was covered in colts, all of them biting at him and tugging at his mane.

“Cheating!” he shouted from under the pony pile, shaking a hoof at her as she stepped around her mother and out the door, laughing every step of the way. He attempted to levitate them off, but they refused to let go. “A little help, Nette?”

Fighting back her own laughter, Annette trotted closer. “Boys, that’s not very polite. You’re all supposed to be getting ready for bed, anyway.”

“Glade Skimmer doesn’t have to get ready for bed!” one of the younger colts whined.

“Glade Skimmer is just a few weeks away from being an adult.” She met Tap’s gaze as the colts dismounted him. “And she also has a guest.”

“More like she has a boyfriend,” muttered the oldest.

Tap snorted, using his telekinesis to flick the oldest colt on the forehead. Outside, Skimmer had clearly crossed Paharita’s path.

“Isn’t it past your curfew, little girl?” he heard the griffon ask.

Skimmer glanced back at Tap as he opened the door. She cocked a brow and turned her attention back to Rita. “The only little girl I see out here is you, chicken-puss.”

“Come to think of it, you’re bigger every time I see you!” Rita leaned forward, getting right in Skimmer’s face. “What are they feeding you out here?”

Skimmer glanced to Tap again, suddenly very pale.

Tap’s gaze sharpened into a glare. “You’re an asshole, Rita. Go annoy someone else.”

“It’s okay,” Skimmer offered, regaining her composure and grinning as she locked eyes with the griffon. “I know I’m not pecking around for worms, at least.”

“Well aren’t you just precious.” Rita pinched Glade’s cheeks, then reared up and yawned, the tip of her tongue curling. “You kids have fun playing with dolls or whatever. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

Rita shoved her way between them, letting the door slam behind her. Tap looked to Skimmer, sighed, and shrugged. Skimmer nudged him several times.

“So are you going to tell me what’s got you down or what?”

In an attempt to change the subject, Tap mumbled, “Wasn’t your dad out here?”

“Um…” The filly did a quick visual sweep of the Arbu Commons. She lifted a foreleg, gesturing in Steel Trap’s direction. “Yeah, he’s right over there. Nice try, by the way, but you’re not off the hook.”

With a long groan, Tap tilted his head skyward, staring off into the clouds. He realized that the rain had stopped. She nudged him with her nose, but he continued to avoid eye contact.

“I know you’re concerned and all, but I really just want you to…” He trailed off as he noticed a blur of movement in the air, rapidly approaching the settlement.

Instinctively, he fished a dash inhaler out of his pockets and took a hit to sharpen his vision. The distant blur was resolved into a sky bandit, Calamity beating his wings out in front. With dash coursing through his bloodstream, there wasn’t a split second of hesitation. He bolted out of their line of sight and hid behind several drums of rainwater in the time it took Glade Skimmer to identify his use of narcotics and call him out on it.

“Yoooooooouuuu        beeeeeeetteeerr    nnnoot  leet Pa see you doing that around me.” She stood there, blinking for a moment. Finally, she turned and furrowed her brow, marching up to him. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

Tap peered around the side of one of the drums, his brow twitching as he watched the sky bandit touch down less than a dozen yards away. “Okay,” he whispered, ducking back into cover. “I’ll tell you what has me so freaked the fuck out, but you have to promise me you won’t tell anypony, and I mean an-ee-po-ne. Are we clear?”

“I still haven’t told anyone about that time you let me watch you and Rita fuck.” She shivered, nickering, biting her lower lip, and flicking her tail all at once. “Can we do that sometime? With the blindfold and everything?”

“Birthday. Now listen close, cause I’m not repeating this.” He took a deep breath and checked his surroundings before looking her in the eyes again. “I’ve been hired to kill Littlepip, and every member of her posse.”

“Oh…” she glanced in the direction of the sky bandit. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“And I’m pretty sure they know, so I’ve been following them around and trying to figure out a way to ambush them.”

Skimmer nodded along, frowning. “No offense, but that’s kind of shitty. Littlepip has been helping ponies all over. She’s a hero.”

“Yeah, everyone keeps saying that…” He sighed quietly. “I don’t really feel that great about it either, but it’s a contract, so I have to do it. This is part of being an assassin.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to hope that they leave soon, because I’m not turning Arbu into a war-zone for caps.” Tap peeked over the top of a barrel, gritting his teeth as Littlepip looked right at him. He dropped behind the barrels again. “If I can just figure out where they’re going ahead of time, I can probably rig the area with explosives or something. Maybe bring a building down on them.”

Skimmer looked from Tap to the Commons several times, her lips pursing into a wide grin. For a moment, Tap was clueless to her intentions. As she turned toward Littlepip and started to walk, it clicked. With wide, panicked eyes, he threw his forelegs around her hind legs, dragging her back behind the barrels with him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Skimmer waggled her brows. “I’m going to go spy on her.”

“What? No!” He chomped his teeth together with a loud clack, hissing “No you’re not!” without unclenching his jaw.

“She doesn’t even know who I am. How can she possibly know that I’m spying on her for you?” She tensed up and pushed him off, getting back to her hooves and attempting a second approach.

One of the drums nearly tipped as Tap pulled her back with his telekinesis. “You don’t understand. She has more luck than me.” She gave him a blank stare, her brow leveled. “I’m not fucking kidding. It’s like she’s invincible.” The young mare crossed her forelegs over her breast. Tap released her with a snort. “Fucking fine. Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

Skimmer snickered, shaking her head. “She’s. A. Hero. Shooting unarmed mares in public isn’t exactly in character for ponies like her. Besides, this will prove that I can be useful. You’ll see.”

He watched her depart with anxiety slowly crushing him into the dirt.

Fucking hell, there they are.

Littlepip, Steelhooves, Calamity, Xenith, and their phoenix, Pyrelight. Velvet Remedy was there too.

For whatever reason, Littlepip and her death squad weren’t putting holes in him, despite the fact that she had looked right at him no more than a few minutes ago. His first thought was that they were in public, and it wasn’t public knowledge that he and his feathery companion had been hired to assassinate the wasteland’s newest hero and her entourage. He couldn’t tell if it was professional courtesy or a just desire to maintain a good reputation, but he appreciated their restraint either way. On the other hoof, he began to wonder if Littlepip was playing some kind of mind game, waiting to see if he would lose his cool and make some kind of mistake.

Skimmer walked right past the sky bandit and its famous passengers to join her father, looking over her wither to give Tap a very obvious wink. It was more than he could bear; Skimmer had made her decision and gone past the point of no return. He turned and headed back inside. Rita had claimed a couch for herself, sprawled across it with both wings half spread, snoring quietly as one of her paws twitched in her sleep. She muttered something unintelligible and reached down to scratch her exposed tummy. The urge to wake her up and escape was overwhelming, but he was certain that everyone was enjoying the peace while she slept.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a small and comforting possibility that Littlepip had failed to notice him. As he explored that possibility, the possibility that Rita was right—and that Littlepip had no idea who he was—also began to seem credible. Not entirely believable, but maybe, just maybe.

Upstairs, he could hear Annette reading her foals a bedtime story. He began to eavesdrop in an attempt to calm himself. At first, listening in made him feel warm and fuzzy, but the longer he listened, the more he felt an intense sadness welling up inside. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake it. As he came down from the dash, he felt sluggish, his eyelids growing heavy. He climbed into a chair and tried to forget about everything. A swig from his flask helped. The noise outside and the noise upstairs melded into a uniform hum, and the chair was very comfortable.

 I just need to rest my eyes, he told himself. Just for a moment.

“You can’t drink it away; no matter how hard you try.” His breath caught in his throat as he felt Lady Luck caress the side of his face. He could feel his eyelids fluttering, but they refused to open. “You must ask: should one weep for a bringer of death, or celebrate his passing?” 

She stood before an enormous bay window, wearing an expensive looking dress and grinning her sharp, wicked grin. Miles of Equestria spread out behind her, partially blanketed in clouds. The landscape below was a patchwork of farms and towns surrounding a dense urban center, but he could also see the silhouette of a city that seemed to rise out of the clouds themselves. He realized a moment later that they were aboard some sort of airship. Much closer, in the reflection of the window, he could see ponies in fancy suits and dresses that slowly sashayed around the room, ignoring them. A live band played up on a stage at the far end of the room. Lady Luck narrowed her eyes, putting her hooves at the base of his neck, the heat of her breath rolling against his face.

“The die have not yet been cast.” A series of flashes lit up the sky, many of those towns and cities swallowed up by balefire. The music abruptly stopped. Screaming followed. “It’s not too late to change your wager.”

Tap jolted upright, blinded as light flooded back into his vision. Glade Skimmer looked up at him from the floor, frowning and slowly putting her hooves back under her.

“You jerk! What was that for?” She nipped him on the shoulder once she was standing again. “I was just trying to wake you up to tell you what I found out.”

“Sorry…” Lady Luck’s grin lingered behind Skimmer, and he looked away. “You startled me. What uh…” He lifted a fetlock to his eyes, gently rubbing. “How long was I out, actually?”

“Not too long.” She shrugged. “Littlepip and her friends left, though.”

Hearing her say that brought on a wave of relief. He sighed softly and nodded. “Did you find out anything good?”

Skimmer nodded excitedly. “Mmhmm! I know where they’re going!” Tap leaned closer, ears perked. “Bucklyn Cross.” Any eagerness he had felt moments before was instantly evaporated. He felt his jaw go slack, and the young mare cocked her head. “Is that… bad?”

|[  7 ]|[o’o ]|[o8- ]|

“Water talismans?” Rita glanced away from the binoculars for a moment, locking eyes with Skimmer. “She went to Bucklyn Cross for water talismans.”

“That’s what they were talking about right before they left, and well…” Skimmer cradled a rifle scope between her fetlocks, squeezing one eye shut as she looked through it with the other. “There they are. The Steel Rangers don’t look too happy about this. Oh…”

A single explosion lit up the night just shy of where the Sky Bandit had landed. It was visible even without something to magnify the bridge.

Tap jumped to his hooves, eyes wide. “Fuck shit!”

“Nooooo! This is really, really bad!” Rita ruffled her feathers, dragging her free claw against the gnarled wood of the pier. “Okay, it looks like they’re talking now. That’s good.”

“Why didn’t they let us camp out up there? We would have been in the perfect spot for an ambush!” Tap spent a few moments stomping and thrashing around, bucking at the air. “Fucking Steel Rangers!”

Rita ran a claw through her head-feathers. “I hope they don’t dock our pay for this. I mean, we did ask if we could wait for them there! This is kinda their fault!”

“So why do the Steel Rangers want Littlepip dead, anyway?” Skimmer passed her rifle scope to Tap and leaned forward onto all fours. Tap noted her arched brow before peering through the scope at the bridge. She added, “All she’s been doing is cleaning up the wasteland. It seems like they would actually benefit from having her around. Is it like an ideological thing?”

“Ideo-what?” he muttered without looking up from the levitating scope.

All along the remaining strut of the Bucklyn Bridge, there were ponies training their guns on the invading party. Tap was surprised to see that not all of them were armored. He chewed his lower lip. Against anyone else, the odds would be in their favor, but against Littlepip, he doubted that the odds favored the Steel Rangers.

“They didn’t really say why they wanted her dead,” answered Rita, “but I think it has something to do with Steelhooves going AWOL and taking some of their guys to form Applejack’s Rangers.”

“Oh,” said Skimmer.

An uncomfortable silence settled over them as they continued to watch from a safe distance. That silence was broken as a single gunshot rang through the coming night. Velvet dropped before the echo had faded. The brief quiet that followed was punctuated with a roar of gunfire and the shrieks of missiles. Tap lowered the rifle scope and sat back on his haunches as bursts of light fitfully illuminated the night sky. The three of them watched without a word until the sounds of a firefight gradually faded into infrequent pops, and then nothing.

Rita stood and stretched her wings. “I think I should go make sure we still have an employer.”

“Yeah,” Tap mumbled, still staring at the bridge. “You do that.”

|[ /_\ ]|[  7 ]|[o’o ]|

Paharita had yet to return, and enough time had passed that Tap was beginning to worry. He glanced to Skimmer, who followed him with her eyes as he paced in front of her couch. The basement lights dimmed every so often, buzzing back to life moments later. Every time it happened, his ears perked and he stopped and looked around, expecting to see a griffon appear out of thin air. When no such griffon materialized, he felt more anxious than disappointed.

“I should have gone with her,” he muttered.

“Just calm down. I’m sure she’s fine.” The young mare reached out for him, getting him to pause by resting a hoof on his shoulder. “She waited a good long while before flying over there, so I’m sure things had blown over by the time she arrived. If it was really that bad, she would have turned around and come right back.”

“Any normal pony would do that, but she acts like such a damn child sometimes…” He went back to pacing, her hoof sliding off of him. “That stupid, feathery cunt. I’m gonna go over there and make sure she’s okay.”

Skimmer got up to follow him, moving to bar his path. “What if you leave now, and she comes back while you’re out? Just stay here.”

Tap groaned and tapped a forehoof against the floor, then turned back toward the couch. “She’s such a fucking headache!”

She cocked a brow. “Why do you work with her if you hate her so much?”

“Don’t ever tell her this, because I’ll never hear the end of it, but she’s the best damn locksmith, gunsmith, and computer technician I’ve ever come across. If I worked with anyone else, they wouldn’t be able to do her job nearly as well as she can. Also, she’s the one with the connections.” He glanced away, adding, “And she’s really good in bed.”

“Is that a fact,” snorted Skimmer. She flopped down on the couch, propping her head up with a knee. “Well I doubt she’s anywhere near as good a sharpshooter as I am. I just wish my rifle wasn’t so damn loud.”

A tiny spark of glee flickered in Tap’s mind as he realized what to get Skimmer for her birthday. He realized, as Skimmer cocked a brow, that he was grinning.

She inhaled, intent on speaking, but the words died on her lips as a muffled gunshot bled into the building. They looked up at the ceiling, in the direction of the neighboring residences. Tap turned and made his way to the exit, his ear flicking as he heard hooves behind him.

“Wait here,” Double Tap commanded from the stairs.

He heard Annette and Steel above him, their exchange too frantic and muffled for him to comprehend. He scrambled up the stairs, getting a glimpse of the loft. One of their younger colts was sobbing hysterically. Steel was in the process of barreling toward the stairs, still looking back at his family.

“Stay down and out of sight,” he barked.

Outside, there were more shouts, and then screams.

“What the fuck?!” Tap called as Steel Trap stormed past him.

The lumbering stallion glanced back at him, double barreled shotgun rigged to his side. “Probably those damn bandits from earlier!” Tap followed him, but Steel flicked his tail, pausing at the door. “We’ll take care of this; you keep Skimmer and the kids inside!” Steel took two steps outside and froze. “Oh hell,” Tap heard him rasp.

He wasn’t the first to fire. The crack of a low caliber rifle sounded from the far end of the Arbu strip. After that, the air outside filled with the reverberation of gunshots. Steel Trap pivoted, bit down on the trigger, and charged out of sight. Tap pulled both pistols and started after him, but faltered when he remembered what Steel had asked. He spared a glance back through the kitchen, noting that the staircases were clear. Somewhere in the commotion, he heard a mare repeatedly cry “Rape!” until her shouts were cut short. The boom of an anti-machine rifle rattled dust from the ceiling directly above the front door. Seconds later, a shrieking sound cut through the night.

Tap was already lunging away from the door as Annette screamed from the floor above, “Get down!”

An explosion tore through the ceiling, scattering debris and burning chunks of meat and bone in front of him. Flames licked their way around the edge of the hole, slowly spilling over the floor where larger bits had landed. As Tap lifted himself back to his hooves, a feeling of rage induced nausea swirling in the pit of his stomach, a single pony stepped into view, her zebra-patterned rifle levitating at the ready.

Double Tap met Littlepip’s cold, furious gaze and felt his blood boil. He couldn’t afford to blink, but his mind began to fill with scenarios.

Both pistols snapped forward and he advanced, squeezing the triggers until both magazines were empty. She bled, but remained standing. His brains exploded through the back of his skull.

-^v-^v------

She was a sharpshooter. A straight charge would be suicide. He threw himself sideways just as she leveled her rifle, several rounds tickling over his coat the instant before he landed behind a stuffed yao guai. He pulled the pins on three grenades and lobbed them in her direction. She threw them right back, repainting the living room with his insides.

-^v-^v------

She was also a unicorn. Grenades could only be used if he had the element of surprise. He threw himself sideways just as she leveled her rifle, several rounds tickling over his coat the instant before he landed behind a stuffed yao guai. He picked the yao guai up with his levitation and hurled it at her. She caught it, as he expected she would, but in that time he had closed the distance between them, knives as the ready. He was too fast for her to stop the hailstorm of knives he unleashed. He cut her to ribbons and put two in her forehead just to be safe.

-0-

The variables were uncertain, and his gut told him the odds were against him, but the stakes were too high to back down. All bets were final. He lunged, but never hit the ground. Instead, he was flung sideways, slammed against the wall and held there. His breath caught in his throat, an unseen force squeezing it shut. Littlepip’s horn glowed in the flickering firelight. He tried to pry his pistols from the wall, but her telekinesis was far stronger. She stepped closer, her eyes sweeping over him, inspecting him.

“Did you know?” she growled.

“Go fuck yourself,” he hissed.

Littlepip narrowed her eyes and leveled her rifle. At the same time, Tap focused on the floor under Pip’s hooves, his horn flaring. She was thrown across the room in the same instant that she pulled the trigger, three rounds from her rifle missing their mark.  Her concentration broken, he dropped to the floor, snagging both pistols before they could do the same. He had seen Littlepip crash into a shelf, taking it with her as she fell behind the couch Rita had been sleeping on earlier.

Tap crouched behind a mannequin dressed in radigator-leather armor, peering out around the side of it. The airy sound Littlepip’s rifle had made gave him the distinct impression that it was silenced. Meanwhile, the fire continued to spread, slowly trickling down the walls as it rolled along the ceiling.

“You asshole!” he shouted over the roar and crackle of the fire. “Who the fuck do you think you are? These are just fucking radigator hunters! They haven’t done anything wrong!”

“They’re cannibals! Everyone with the Arbu mark is a fucking cannibal!” He couldn’t see her, but her voice carried with all the intensity of the blaze above them. “They’ve been selling pony meat to every trader that came through here!”

“Have you lost your damn mind? That’s bullshit! You don’t even know these ponies, and you’re just blowing them away like a fucking raider!”

“They’re a blight on pony kind!” she spat. “Whether you believe me or not, if you try and stop me, I’ll consider you one of them!”

“One of what? A good pony with a wife and children?”

As the words left his lips, the reality of it all hit him square in the breast. Steel Trap, Annette, and one or more of their sons were dead. There was no telling how many other Arbu residents she had already gunned down. He felt a shuddering gasp rise in his throat, but he gritted his teeth and choked it down until he felt bile in its place.

“These were my friends, you mother fucker!” His throat felt raw, but he screamed even louder. “You’re fucking sick and I’m shutting you the fuck down!”

A shadow danced along the wall as she got back to her hooves. Tap knew that Littlepip had accuracy and telekinetic strength to her advantage, which meant that speed and evasion were essential. Now was not the time to let emotions lead to careless mistakes. He owed them all that much, at the very least.

Double Tap took a deep breath through a dash inhaler, slowing the chaos around him to a crawl. His altered perception made it easier to ignore the rising temperature and thickening smoke. A decoy manifested from his horn and galloped to the far side of the room. As expected, Littlepip broke cover, firing another three rounds into his illusion. Tap held both pistols over the side of a mannequin and fired in her direction. Before he had even stopped squeezing the triggers, the mannequin began to glow, lifting a few inches off the floor. He pulled the pin on a grenade and rolled it to her side of the room, counting heartbeats until it went off. Scraps of furniture and wooden fragments sailed through the air, and the mannequin dropped.

Suddenly, three solid thumps caused it to rock on its base, and it burst into flames. The muffled report of Littlepip’s rifle was nearly lost under the roar of the growing inferno, but the muted glow of his telekinesis was similarly concealed by the wavering light all around them.

With the mannequin levitating in front of him, he sprinted forward. She tried to yank it out of his levitation field, forcing him to sidestep to stay out of her line of fire. He responded with more blind fire, attempting to force her back into cover. From behind his moving barrier, he caught glimpses of tufts of foam exploding from the couch as he punched it full of holes. She retaliated with blind fire of her own, her bullets striking the mannequin and his immediate surroundings in groups of three. One of the rounds skimmed his flank, leaving a burning line in his flesh.

It had become evident that she had the rifle set to fire in three round bursts, and it had been enchanted with an incendiary effect. He filed the new information under the growing list of things to keep in mind while fighting her.

Before Tap could squeeze off another volley of rounds, a loud crack hung in the air from above them. The ceiling lurched, and then a large section simply dropped. Tap threw himself out of the way as the front half of the shop was blanketed in jagged, burning wood. The mannequin he had been hiding behind and the couch Littlepip had been using as cover were lost under the flaming wreckage, and the front exit was completely blocked. Tap’s stomach lurched as he noticed the remains of Annette and two of her children smoldering in the debris. He had lost track of Littlepip, but with a quick visual sweep, he caught a glimpse of her as she ducked behind a crate.

There was still half an immolated room’s worth of clutter between himself and Littlepip. He focused on a sturdy looking table and upended it, but when he tried to step behind it, his hooves met nothing but air. The lift of her levitation left him feeling weightless, all points of reference gone, his hooves scrambling to stay in contact with the increasingly distant floor. He grabbed the stuffed yao guai with his telekinesis before she could finish lining up a shot. It promptly erupted into flames as her bullets tore though it, and he sent it flying in her direction. She caught it, but not before he could lob another grenade her way as well. She caught that too, forcing it just a little bit closer to him between his attempts to push it to its intended destination.

It was a shoving match he couldn’t win. Slowly, Littlepip lifted the yao guai out of the way, her rifle lying in wait. Tap focused on the burning yao guai and squinted, readying his flash spell.

After the burst of light, he felt her grip weaken just enough to break it with a downward push. His hooves made contact with the floor again, and the grenade made contact with the ceiling, blowing another hole in the floor above them. A burning bed tumbled through, completely obscuring her. Tap vaulted over another mannequin, slowing the bed’s fall with his magic as he tried to close the gap. He was just a few yards away when the bed was flung aide, meeting Littlepip’s furious glare.

Nothing in his immediate vicinity was thick enough to use as cover, but he knew he could cross the distance to her in just a few paces. He threw all his weight into a gallop and shifted left as she attempted to line up a shot. The glow of his horn was all but invisible in the flickering blaze that was rapidly spreading through the room. Tap’s telekinetic kick caused her rifle to jerk just as she pulled the trigger, unloading another three rounds that zipped past his ears. He tried to shove again, but her rifle barely budged. She gritted her teeth, one eye closed, and pulled the trigger. Tap dropped to his side, sliding along the floor with both pistols leveled.

Another three rounds streaked toward Tap, each one closer than the last. The tip of his horn caught fire as he felt a bullet clip it. The wall behind Littlepip splintered and rattled until he clicked empty, his armor piercing rounds missing their mark, save for one that skirted her cheek and etched a thin, bleeding line in her flesh.

The crate shuddered as he struck it with all four hooves, giving it a magic assisted buck to send it sliding back in an effort to pin Littlepip against the wall. He coiled in on himself, holstering his pistols and heaving himself upright as the barrel of the rifle swung down toward him, and then he released like a spring. His forehoof lashed out and struck the silencer of her rifle with enough force to send the rifle flying out of her telekinetic grasp. The whole room spun as he twisted his body, his rear hooves thumping down on the crate. She was drawing a revolver, eyes glowing like embers, but his knives left his sleeves much faster.

Littlepip’s eyes widened as he swung his forelegs down in a wide arc, filling the air with glittering strips of sharpened metal that twirled end over end toward her face and throat. Her horn flared.

Even with the dash in his system, the speed with which he had been flung straight upward was almost too fast for him to process. Down on the floor, everything in a forward radius of Littlepip had been thrown clean across the room or similarly pinned against a ceiling that was now little more than a grate of glowing embers and dancing flame. A searing wave of heat and pain prickled along his back as his nerves caught up with the recent turn of events. He tried to squirm away, but she held him in place, peering up at him down the barrel of her revolver.

A long, loud creak filled the air all around them. Littlepip lowered her gun, her gaze distant, as though she were in awe. Tap felt himself falling, casting an upward glance to see what was so important.

The whole ceiling was coming down in uneven slabs, breaking into burning planks and beams mid fall. Everything that had been on the second floor came down with it; tables, dressers, beds, and bodies, all of it striking the floor with such force that it gave out under the weight. He lost sight of Littlepip as they plummeted into the basement. It was a rough landing. Shocks of pain shot through his legs on impact, but none of the debris had pinned him in the collapse.

Almost immediately, the heat and smoke became near unbearable. Before, he had been able to ignore the smoke for the most part. The majority of the fire had been raging on the floor above, and he had been moving so fast that even after part of the ceiling came down, the room hadn’t yet filled with smoke. Now, he was in the thick of it, his eyes and lungs burning as he tried to move through the wreckage.

Somewhere nearby, a series of tiny coughs reached his ears. He un-holstered the comedies and changed magazines mid stride, then stopped dead in his tracks. Just before going to investigate, he had told Glade Skimmer to wait in the basement. Tap bristled, his voice strained and distorted as he called out for her, falling into a coughing fit as he tried to refill his lungs. A heap of ember studded beams shifted in response. He tumbled out of the way, smouldering stakes sizzling past him and embedding in a bookshelf. The ballistic crack of a revolver followed, and a pock mark appeared in the cement just a few hairs from his forehead. He twisted onto his back, firing wildly into the smoke. Another round zipped by, strafing the side of his neck before embedding in a chunk of the first floor.

Everything began to speed up as he focused on his own body, curling himself toward his head and releasing. The magical shove made his muscles ache as he rolled through the air, hinds over head, still firing at a target he couldn’t even see. He became disoriented as his hooves struck a warped segment of wooden floor, his ears ringing, overwhelmed as the world returned to full speed. A distorted pop cut through the air from somewhere in the room, and he crouched behind a jagged, flaming hill of fragmented wood. A single blackened foreleg projected from the pile, but he fought off the urge to pull out the rest of the body for verification. Tap pulled a fresh dash inhaler from his bandoleer and put it to his lips.

“Help,” he heard Skimmer whisper behind him.

Tap whipped around and laid his eyes on an enormous safe that occupied the nearest corner of the room, its door only partially open. Skimmer’s eye shimmered with reflected flame, peering out into the hell beyond her shelter. A large, metal trunk and a heap of burning debris had fallen in front of the door, trapping her.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” Tap managed between coughs. His eyes swept over the room, then back to Skimmer. “Just hold on.”

The words had barely left his throat when he felt himself lifted from the floor. Tap struggled to focus, dragging a metal drum and the dash inhaler with him. A hollow, metallic clang preceded what he counted as the fourth report of Littlepip’s revolver, knocking the barrel right out of his levitation field. He took a long hit, riding the amphetamine rush as everything slowed to a comfortable crawl. Littlepip was just barely visible through the smoke, the glow of her horn like a beacon. She was trying to choke him, but it was too late for that. He focused on the glowing wooden shards littering the floor between them, gritting his teeth as he punched them all into the air at once. He spotted a silenced rifle with a zebra pattern tumbling in the midst of it all.

Littlepip’s fifth shot went wide, plowing through the shrapnel and striking the concrete wall somewhere behind him. To his surprise, she held the debris there, slowly pushing them toward him like a wall of glowing spikes. Tap tensed as he grabbed the trunk that had fallen in front of the safe, his light dampening spell wearing off in the process. His horn flared, swirling light illuminating the smoke around his head as he lifted the trunk above himself. He used it as an anchor, turning himself over, and then, once his hooves were firmly planted on its underside, he let it drop. The weight of the trunk ripped him free of her telekinetic hold. He kicked the instant he felt himself slip her grasp, pushing himself away from the trunk and twisting to land on his hooves.

Wooden shards sparked and crackled as they struck the wall that had been behind him moments ago. He could hear Littlepip’s hooves pounding closer, the sound of her breath made fitful by the thick smoke. When she emerged, squinting down the barrel of her revolver, he was ready.

A burst of light erupted from his horn, slamming Littlepip in the side of the head with raw telekinetic force. She staggered sideways, swinging her revolver, firing, and missing. The tiny unicorn stumbled and collapsed.

Double Tap reared up and pounced like a hellhound, hundreds of knives just a blink of an eye from slicing into his prey. Littlepip made no effort to grab him with her telekinesis, not even so much as flinching as he reached the peak of his arc, angling his forehooves down for her throat. Her lips began to move, one eye squeezed shut, her revolver still levitating in front of her. He realized what she was saying before she had finished saying it.

“Gotcha.”

Six shots. He told himself. I heard six shots. 

The hammer fell, and a jet of flame spilled from the barrel, escorting a single point-forty-four slug down the rifled corridor.

I must have miscounted.

And then his mind went blank.

A feeling like someone had pushed an entire brahmin through his breast became the only thing he could focus on. He hit the ground in a heap, sprawling out next to Littlepip. His knives slid limply out of his sleeves as he struggled to take a breath. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear Glade Skimmer screaming. He rolled his head toward the safe as the young mare forced the door open, galloping toward him and ignoring Littlepip altogether. He tried to tell her to run, to hide, but the words just wouldn’t come. She fell at his side, barely feeling her hooves on his breast, the sound of her sobbing faintly audible.

Behind Skimmer, Littlepip reared her head, looking over the young mare with that same predatory glare she had trained on him. Skimmer bared her teeth, narrowed her eyes, and shifted her weight to buck. Her hooves never connected, and she was levitated straight off the ground. Her zipper descended, tooth by tooth, as Skimmer squirmed and screamed in protest. Buttons popped off their sinew threads as Littlepip ripped the radigator leather from Skimmer’s body. Littlepip’s question was lost to his ears, but he could see Skimmer’s lips moving.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, over and over again.

Tap noticed the zebra-patterned rifle levitating next to Littlepip, pointed at Glade Skimmer. Skimmer closed her eyes, screaming and thrashing. There was no emotion on Littlepip’s face as she pulled the trigger.

Not like this.

Skimmer dropped to the floor beside him, still thrashing, even as fire licked its way out of the bullet holes in her back. She looked Tap in the eyes and went very still, letting her head drop to the concrete. Flames rolled along her foreleg as she lifted a hoof to the side of his face. His pistol trembled as he struggled to wrap it in his levitation field.

Darkness swallowed him.

|[     ]|[     ]|[     ]|

Littlepip was gone when he opened his eyes.

His eyes were all he could move, the rest of his body reduced to dead weight. Panic seized him as his gaze swept over his surroundings. The remains of Skimmer’s home continued to burn above and around him, but the blaze no longer made a sound. Skimmer had gone completely still, little more than charred meat and bone. He squeezed his eyes shut, but he could still see her corpse on the insides of his eyelids.

With a soft click, a set of hooves stepped into view, just behind Glade Skimmer’s fire blackened form. There was a mare attached to them. A few droplets of blood rolled away from the bullet hole in her forehead, staining the white of her coat. Several locks of strawberry blonde hair fell across her face. Something about her seemed so familiar.

And then she smiled down at him as he met her gaze.

“Do you believe in fate?”

His eyes rolled toward Glade Skimmer as she began to twitch, slowly twisting onto her belly, putting her hooves under her body. She lifted herself upright, standing beside Lady Luck. Her charred flesh flaked off as though she were a reptile shedding its skin. Fully restored, she began to smile as well, her eyes so tranquil.

“No, of course you don’t. You and I both know that fate is an illusion constructed by those who fear uncertainty.”

Every inch of him was numb, but he found himself able to draw breath, able to move freely. He lifted himself off the ground, regarding the mares across from him.

“The existence of possibility, the potential for events to unfold differently than planned...” Lady Luck looked past him, narrowing her eyes. “It is a fear of these that lead the foolish to cling to a belief that they are destined, that their lives flow along a predetermined path, and that surely, some force is guiding them.”

Skimmer giggled quietly, biting her lower lip and containing her laughter as Lady Luck turned toward her. Lady Luck’s lips curled into a sharp grin.

“Yes, it is rather amusing, in a tragic sort of sense." She turned her attention back toward Tap, smirking. “Of course... you and I both know that they are wrong. There is chance, and only chance. Nothing is set in stone, and everything is the result of sheer luck.”

She glanced past him again, her grin fading as she lifted her head. “Walk with us, won’t you?”

“Am I dead?” he whispered.

Her grin returned. “The outcome has yet to be determined, but fortunately for you, the odds are in your favor.”

A shiver ran through him. “And Skimmer?”

The mare in question averted her gaze. Lady Luck cocked a brow and murmured, “Let us not allow ourselves to be distracted by such affairs as life and death. There are far more important matters to discuss.”

“Fuck. You. Where were you when I needed you? When we needed you?” He stomped toward her, gritting his teeth. “You let this happen!”

Lady Luck pursed her lips, still wearing her wicked grin. “And if I recall, it was you who misjudged the variables and made an ill fated wager. You bet your life and her life when you made your decision. As such, the consequences are yours, and yours alone.

“But I can say for certain that, should you remain in this place, you forfeit all chance of survival.” She looked to Skimmer, and the pair of them began a slow trot through the curling inferno that the basement had become. “The choice is yours.”

Tap stayed glued to the spot. He looked from Skimmer to the ashen outline still by his side. She glanced back at him, but kept walking. Another shiver ran down his spine, and he felt heavy, his ears splaying with the weight.

He nearly choked as he asked, “What will happen to her?”

“You need not worry about her,” Lady Luck mused without so much as looking back at him. “She will be well cared for. But, as I said before, this is neither the time nor the place.”

At a glance, Tap could see a smear of blood from where he had fallen. He turned away from the spot and watched as they moved straight through the fires, unhindered. Cautiously, he followed in their wake. The fire felt cold against his flesh, rolling in slow waves as he stepped across a sea that glowed orange. They ascended the stairs and paused in the kitchen. Skimmer stepped back as Lady Luck approached the rear wall. She seemed to flicker for an instant, and the wall splintered outward into the night.

The three of them passed through the freshly made exit, but the moment Tap set hoof outside, he felt a surge of white hot pain rush through him. He squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth as every nerve cried out in anguish. Just as quickly as the sensation hit him, it faded away.

|[     ]|[     ]|[     ]|

When he opened his eyes, he was staring out over the rooftops of a pristine cityscape. The sky was open, with only a few puffy clouds rolling across an endless stretch of blue. A strong breeze pulled at his mane as he searched his surroundings for familiar landmarks, but he could find none. The feeling of numbness remained in him, but beneath that, he felt something else; a feeling like something had gone wrong within.

“So glad you could join us,” Lady Luck whispered at his right side.

He jolted, whipping his head toward her. “Why are you helping me? What do you want from me?”

“So many questions, and yet, you already know the answers. You’ve asked them all before, but I know that you’ve simply forgotten.” She narrowed her eyes and smiled, staring off into the horizon. “Truthfully, there isn’t a thing you could offer me that I would willingly accept. Any amount you might place on the table pales before what is already in my possession. But...” Her smile faded just slightly. “I should say that my presence is due to a sense of obligation. One that I fear may never be completely fulfilled.”

“Obligation?” He cautiously leaned closer.

“If I were to fully explain myself, it would be a book in its own right, I’m afraid. A chapter, at the very least. We have time for neither of those at this particular juncture.”

Tap lifted his head, perplexed. “I don’t understand.”

A sharp peal of laughter rolled up from her throat. “Who and what I am are not important. What is important is where you go from here.”

Tap looked down at his hooves, but found himself staring over the edge of a building. Far below, ponies and carts moved along the street like insects. He lifted his gaze again, looking to his left. Glade Skimmer offered a sad, timid smile. His lips tensed.

“From here? Why does that matter? I wanted—” Tap closed his eyes and exhaled bitterly. “No, I actually had the chance to make a difference for once, but I still couldn’t save her... I just wanted to kill Littlepip so badly that I jumped the gun, and I fucked us both because of that. I mean, yeah, I wanted revenge... for Steel Trap, for Annette, for their children and for all of Arbu...” He paused, running his tongue over his teeth. “What Littlepip said, about them being cannibals. Was she telling the truth?”

Lady Luck pursed her lips. “Did she strike you as the sort to wipe out settlements on a whim?”

“No... she was a professional, like me. Always one step ahead. But does that make her right?” He looked the the horizon, tapping a forehoof. “I’ve never liked the concept of slavery, but I didn’t go and clean out Old Appleoosa over my beliefs.”

“That would make her an extremist,” she nodded slowly, “would it not?”

“Yeah... and I never really felt like was my place to change anything.” He met Lady Luck’s gaze, furrowing his brow. “Fuck Littlepip. When I realized she was the one raising hell, that just proved that the hero thing was a load of shit. She had no right to do this. Even if they killed and ate someone here and there, they were still my friends, and they were good ponies. Death is as much a part of the wasteland as life.”

“But she is changing the wasteland, just as Red Eye changed it before her. What part will you play in a world shaped by her ideals?”

“I’m an assassin.” Tap spent a moment thinking about the implications of his statement. “I don’t think I’ll have a place if she keeps going the way she’s going. Should I give up, then? Should I find a new line of work if I’m eventually going to be judged for my actions by some holier-than-thou psychopath?”

After what felt like an eternity of silence, she raised her voice in response. “Your decisions do carry more weight than you’ve been willing to admit in the past. It would be wise to try and consider the long term effects of your influence. However, one such as yourself should avoid falling by the wayside. I strongly suggest that you do not squander your talents.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are an agent of potential.” She reared up, spreading her forelegs toward the horizon. “And you are every bit as much of a catalyst as Littlepip! You simply haven’t found anything to stand for just yet.”

Lowering his head, he said, “You’re saying I should join a cause?”

She dropped back to all fours, giving him a sideways glance. “It would be in very poor taste to allow yourself to become an instrument of someone else’s agenda.”

“Should I...” Tap gritted his teeth as his thoughts came up blank. “Should I try playing the lone hero or something?”

She cackled again, closing her eyes as her whole body trembled with laughter. “Goodness no! You and I both know that it wouldn’t suit you to restrict yourself along a moral guideline. Always act in your own best interest.”

Tap cocked an ear, looking around with uncertainty. “I don’t get it.”

“And at this moment, I would hardly expect you to.” She smiled, and for the first time, he found it comforting. “There is still plenty of time for you to decide on your next move.”

A long stretch of silence came between them. Tap’s eyes swept over the rooftops laid out before him, searching for meaning in what Lady Luck had told him. A rattling screech drew his attention. He looked down the street, watching as a train rolled by on an elevated track.

“Where are we?”

No sooner than the question had been asked, he laid his eyes on Tenpony Tower. Only, it wasn’t Tenpony as he knew it; the building looked clean and new. It lacked the patch jobs and none of the windows were boarded up.

A certain wildness came over her, her eyes widening. “At the end of the world,” she whispered, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

There was a blinding flash on the other end of the city. Tap squinted into the glare, taking in the contour of an enormous fireball that rolled up into the sky. In an instant, buildings had been vaporized. Bodies, vehicles, and chunks of buildings were displaced by the blastwave, filling the air with debris. He could feel the heat peeling away at his skin, pulling him apart. His flesh sizzled and his eyes blistered, but he couldn’t look away. Under the roar of the explosion, beneath the tearing winds, he could hear the screams in every direction.

And then he heard the laughter. Lady Luck’s face fell away in molten hunks, revealing more and more of her jaw, her fangs glowing in the arcane fire. Her laughter was shrill and fitful as her eyes boiled in their sockets, drinking in the death and chaos that stretched out before them. She turned her head to face him, scraps of meat hanging from her skull, but her grin remained as vicious as ever. 

“Perhaps you’ll be joining us after all,” she gurgled. A green fire danced in the empty, blackened pits of her eye sockets.

“Run,” he heard Skimmer whisper.

All at once, Double Tap had a horrible revelation. Lady Luck nodded slowly, confirming his fears.

His heart had stopped.

Lady Luck leaned in closer, her cackle echoing out into infinity. “The more, the merrier.”

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