Their packing up and departure was becoming uncomfortably routine at this point. Rarity and Francis would handle repacking their supplies, Jack would rummage the house, taking only what they needed, and Spike would hop between the two groups, never really sure where he needed to help. They were out the front door by no later than eight and already walking the road. Jack paused for one moment, turning to look back at the house. Or, rather, what lay in the backyard. She finally teared her sights away from it and pressed on down the road.

Jack had sent a message to Mac, almost as soon as she had received one from him, but, as she had expected, no reply came back, Her message seemed to hang between sent or not-sent: if Twila was here, she’d probably mention Schrodinger’s Cat. Jack didn’t really care too much for the comparison, but she couldn’t say why, if she were asked to explain herself.

Only a scant two hours later they came to something they thought they’d never see again.

A crowd. A line of people stretching off towards the horizon. Farther off in the distance, sanctuary.

The capital shined like a beacon of hope to them. Several freight trailers had been hastily erected around the main strip, and, if Jack squinted, she could see some sort of bottleneck. A check-in station, maybe.

“That’s a big line,” Spike stated the obvious.

“I suppose I was the odd man out when it came to the radio broadcast instructing people to come here,” Francis agreed.

With the barest of tears in her eyes, Rarity exclaimed, “It may be the most glorious sight I have ever seen in my life. People, everyone, people!”

The woman’s joy was contagious. Spike’s smile seemed ready to leap off his face, and Jack reached forward, wrapping an arm around Rarity and Francis’ shoulders.

“We did it,” Jack whispered to herself, squeezing the two with all her worth. “We did it, y’all.”

Spike impatiently looked back at the three. “Come on, guys! Let’s go get in line!”

The three looked between one-another, then joined after the boy.

The tail end of the line housed several impatient men and women, and one man in shoddy, drab clothing, plucking absentmindedly at a guitar. The others didn’t acknowledge them, but the guitarist let out a small laugh at the appearance of more people.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in,” he remarked good-naturedly. “Locals, or broadcast?”

“Um… Broadcast, yes,” Rarity answered. “We managed to catch one in time—I see we weren’t the only ones.”

“That broadcast sure did it’s job, didn’t it?” he replied, giving a raise of his brow. “Lotta people in our little happy camp, now.”

One of the women ahead of them in line let out a humph of contempt.

“Camp?” she asked, the droll tone common among the capital’s people. “Don’t make me laugh. This is anything but.”

The man gave a strum of his guitar and looked back at the newcomers. “Don’t mind them, they’re just upset that it’s taking so long to get back inside.”

“We have a home to get back to, unlike you,” she snapped back, then turned her head towards the front of the line so quick Jack could almost hear a pop.

“Locals are jus’ as friendly as I remember,” Jack said under her breath.

“It’s tough times for all of us, Jack,” Rarity replied quietly. To the guitarist, she asked, “So what exactly is going on here?”

“Message did good. Maybe too good. Everyone headed here. Now they’re having to check in every person, make sure no troublemakers get in, no weapons smuggled.” He looked over to a man standing next to the woman that had dismissed him. “Day two and counting, Marcus?”

The man he called Marcus offered a glare in response, before turning his attention back towards front.

“Two days,” the guitarist said to Rarity. “Not a happy camper, no ma’am.”

“Two days in line?” she asked, her mouth dropping just a bit.

“Welcome to bureaucracy. Ain’t it grand?” He gave another strum of the guitar. “We’re lucky there’s a generator nearby, powers the streetlights so those, uh, what you wanna call ‘em?” Snapping a finger in an attempt to drum up a name, he shrugged. “Shadow-things. Those shadow-things seem to hate the light.” He gave a look towards them. “You have seen ‘em, right? I’m not going crazy here, just ask princess and the prince, they saw ‘em too.”

Despite herself, Rarity shivered. “W-we’ve seen them.” Shaking her head, she changed topics. “You say bureaucracy—who exactly is in charge?”

He paused from his guitar. “Well, miss, meet the new boss. Same as the old boss. Governor Celestia.”

With a heavy, relieved sigh, Rarity turned to Jack with a wide grin. To Spike, she said, “Surely, if Celestia is still in charge, Twila must be here somewhere.”

Spike nodded, his smile as bright as a new day. “They’re like two peas in a pod.”

“Good,” Jack said, her own smile feeling alien in how full and pure it was. “Fer once our tax dollars are doin’ somethin’ worth a shit.”

“Makes me almost wish I had put some money in for ‘em,” the guitarist agreed. The woman up ahead let out a small, condescending laugh.

“And not waste it on liquor or cigarettes? Heaven forbid.”

“I’m more a weed guy, but thanks for the reminder,” he answered, returning his gaze to Rarity. “They’re probably wishing I was still in the boxcar.”

“Boxcar?” Francis repeated. The guitarist shrugged.

“First night those fucking things come around—pardon my language—those two are driving through near the trainyard. Things almost get ‘em, but they manage to get out of their car and make a run. I’m crashing in a boxcar at the time, hear ‘em, and get ‘em inside with me before those shadow things can get ‘em.”

“You’re all very lucky, then,” said Rarity. Then she added, “It was a hayloft for us.”

“Funny. You don’t look the type that’s interested in a roll in the hay.”

“Playing in the hay is fun,” Spike said. Jack let a snort out and he gave a confused “What?” in response.

With a barely restrained giggle, Rarity ruffled the boy’s hair. “I agree fully, Spike. So.” She directed at the others. “Do we wait or…?”

“Well, it seems the surest way inside, doesn’t it?” Francis offered. “I have clout, but I don’t think clout is what gets us inside any earlier.”

The tailor looked thoughtful for a moment. She asked the guitarist. “Excuse me, what if you’re a local? They’re making you wait as well?”

“Depends,” he replied. “Prince and Princess are, but they lost their ID’s.”

“Because you probably stole them from us in that boxcar!” the man countered. Ignoring the remark, the guitarist squinted his eyes and opened them again.

“Got ID and they’re letting people in earlier. Just gotta wait for a guard to patrol.”

She nodded. “Thank you, you’ve been a big help.”

Offering a grunt in acknowledgement, he returned his focus to his guitar.

“Ya do got yer ID on ya, right, Francis?” Jack asked.

“Driver's, Social Security, Passport and Military,” he agreed, patting the pocket at his backside.

“Lovely, darling,” Rarity said, giving the older man a quick hug. “Now to find ourselves a guard…”

About an hour after Rarity said this, there finally came a guard, his eyes scanned the crowd and his finger rested on the outside of the trigger guard as he took everyone in. When he began to walk past the group, Spike waved his hand.

“We’ve got a local,” the boy offered.

He nodded briskly. “Identification, please.”

Francis stepped forward, pulling out his certification. The guard looked over it, then double-checked the papers.

“Looks legit. Government sanctioned buildings are off-limits for the time being. Go to your home with your guests and await further instructions. Come with me.”

Jack smiled at the others. “This is as far as I’m goin’.”

Rarity started. “What?” she said, a little sharper than she meant to. Taking a quick breath, she asked, “I mean, what do you mean, Jack? You’re not even going to see if anyone else is here?”

“Rare…” Jack considered her words, taking far longer on them than her norm. “if anyone else is there, ya know they’d wanna come with. I can’t have that hangin’ over my head. Besides. If I sit down where it’s safe, I ain’t sure how long it’d be before I get back up again.”

“But…”

“Wait, Rarity, you don’t sound surprised?” asked Spike. Then, to Jack, “You’re leaving? But we only just got here!”

“I know sug.” She squatted down, meeting the boy at eye-level. “An’ it’s hard on me too. But don’t ya worry ‘bout a thing. Francis, Rare, hell, even Celestia. They’ll… they’ll take good care-a ya.”

Sniffing a bit, Spike replied, “If you’re going… You’re going to find your family, right?”

“I am. An’ I’ll come back with ‘em an’ we’ll have one heck of a reunion. Bet yer wantin’ ta play with Alice again, right?” Her smile trembled and she reached forward, putting a hand that despite its size and leathery texture, rested gently on the boy’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice trembling a bit. Wiping at his eyes, he said, “I’ll tell Twila what you did for me. If she can help you, you know she will.” He paused. “Though I dunno how if you go. But she’ll figure it out!”

“She’s a smart cookie. Smarter than me by a country mile.” She shot forward, squeezing him in a tight bear hug and not caring one lick at the tears that now made their way down her cheeks. “Oh, darlin’. Yer such a good kid.”

“Well, where, exactly, are you heading to?” Francis asked. Jack looked up and finally broke her embrace, giving a motherly pat of the boy’s head as she stood again.

“Appaloosa,” she answered. Francis looked at her blankly, and Jack elaborated. “It’s about fifty miles west of Bower City.”

“Bower Ci…” Francis paused for a split second before collecting himself. “That’s quite the distance, considering…”

“I’ll walk the whole damn thing if it means there’s a chance I see ‘em again.”

“Well, you’ve proven yourself a survivor, Jack. If anyone can, you can. Just be careful.”

She nodded. “I will. An’ you watch over the lil’ guy, if ya don’t mind.”

“Not a problem. I’ll make sure he’s tended to properly.”

He held out his hand, and Jack looked at it for a moment before stepping forward and giving him a hug.

“When I get back I’ll treat ya ta a beer,” Jack offered.

“When you return I’ll treat you to two,” he countered. The farmer felt a pit in her stomach as she looked at the last of the group. Rarity watched, the expression on her face for the moment undecipherable.

“Sug…”

Rarity said nothing for a moment. Then, her face still a mask of inexpression, she walked over to Spike, leaned down and hugged him tight. “Spike,” she said, “don’t worry, Twila will be here. You’ll see. Everything will, will be alright.”

“Um...thanks?” He looked confused, awkwardly returning the hug.

She let him go, turning to Francis. “I…” Her voice broke, but she pushed on. “I’ve known many men in my life, Francis Pottager, but you are one of the absolute best to be found anywhere in the world. And you will find Fleur here, I have no doubts.”

“Rarity. Don’t tell me you’re…” Francis trailed off, looking at the woman with sincere concern.

She gave a nearly imperceptible nod, whispering, “I have to. Somebody does.”

He hesitantly nodded, then put a hand on top of Spike’s head. “I’ll take care of him until you’re back,” he said in the same low whisper.

“Rare?” Jack questioned, giving a cautious tilt of her head toward the woman. “What’s goin’ on?”

Pinning the farmer with her best glare, she declared, her tone one of no nonsense, “Saying my goodbyes. I’m going with you, Jack.”

“What?” Jack asked, taken aback so much she actually stumbled a hair. “Rare, yer kiddin’, right? There’s no way ya can do that.”

“I can do it as well as you can,” she snapped. Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose. She started over. “I’ve given it a lot of thought since you told me, and I’ve made up my mind.”

“Rare, ya need ta stay here, where it’s safe. Where I don’t have ta worry ‘bout ya gettin’ hurt or God knows worse out there while I’m doin’ this. Please,” Jack all but begged, looking to the woman desperately. “If ya got… I don’t know what I’d do.”

Quietly, Rarity replied, “And what do you think I’d do if something happened to you?” She shook her head. “I know it’s dangerous. But you’re not invincible, Jack. Everyone needs someone watching their back.”

“Fuck,” Jack swore under her breath. She swallowed, digesting Rarity’s words. Finally, with a small shake of her head, she met the tailor’s eyes. “No talkin’ ya out of it, is there?” she reluctantly asked.

With a knowing, slightly smug grin, Rarity replied, “Because I talked you out of it so successfully, yes?”

Though she didn’t want to, there came the faintest tinge of a smile to Jack’s own mouth.

“Fer all the makeup, ya sure are a mule underneath.”

“I learned from the best.”

Jack gave a slow shake of her head and reached forward, giving a hug to the woman.

“I don’t know what ta say,” Jack admitted. “This… this ain’t gonna be easy, fer either of us.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Rarity shrugged. “It never is, dear. But between my brain and your brawn, I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Could be worse, after all. You could be pairing up with Dash—could you imagine?”

“Jesus. She’d never stop bitchin’ ‘bout it,” Jack said, her smile trembling not for the first time today. She gave one more hug to the woman, then broke away, wiping at an eye. “Always complain’ ‘bout things. A-a damn softie, that’s what she is underneath, sug.”

“True enough. So, enough attacking those unable to defend themselves… If we’re going, we might as well go.”

Jack nodded, then paused, looking at the guard.

“There’s a farm in Mansfield,” she said to him. “It needs tendin’, but it might be worth lookin’ into if this shit is fer the long haul. People need ta eat an’ need ta work. That lets ‘em do both. Tell Celestia the Apple clan gives their regards.”

Satisfied with her words, she turned back to Rarity and let out a deep sigh.

“‘Least now the cows won’t up an’ die while we’re away.”

“Yes, that’s, uh, that’s great, Jack,” Rarity said, seeming somewhat distracted.

“An’ it means there’s somethin’ ta come home to once we get that girl.”

“There’s plenty to come back to,” Rarity said. “And several friends who will throw us one hell of a party. So where do we begin?”

Jack gave simple tap to her forehead. “Guess we start simple. We get ourselves a map an’ plan a little road trip.”

Next Chapter: Highway 365 Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 25 Minutes