Sometimes I envy you, Mr. Recorder.

Why is that, Empress?

Because you’re not alive.

Oh dear, is something wrong?

You see, you’re just an object, nothing can actually hurt you. Heck, you’re a genuine Applejack product, you can and have survived a Megaspell being dropped on you. But it’s not really your durability I’m envious of. It’s that you never get scared.

I get scared.

I’m scared now. It’s a very nasty world out there.

Is it really such a nasty world out there?

Nastier than you can ever dream.

Hey now, I was in a war.

Yeah, but war sorta has rules and safe zones. There were places in Equestria that were never touched by the war physically until the Megaspells hit. But here, if you go to the bathroom without a gun, they’d say it was your own fault if you got killed or whatever.

On top of that, there’s monsters out there. They’ll attack you from up above or beneath, with nasty jaws and claws and teeth.

Is that why you’re scared, is something out there? Is that why you’re whispering?

No, I’m whispering because everyone’s asleep, doi.

What’s got me rattled is... I know I haven’t got a chance on my own. I mean, I can talk circles around nearly anyone, but if the doodie hits the fan, all I can do is scream and hide. I can’t even really run any more!

For the last several years, I’ve profited by getting those stronger than me to fight my fights with all their fighty-ness. And I’ve always known that it’s bad out there. I’m not dumb.

Of course not, you’re smart and beautiful and—

Kiss my fuzzy butt later, I’m trying to make a point.

I’m saying, I know it’s dangerous and scary and I’m always an unlucky toss from being just another sexy skeleton in the wasteland, but that’s no reason to be depressed. I mean, there’s a lot of fun to be had out here.

You gotta be a little crazy, sure, but if I’m still alive I’m going to try to enjoy every second of it that I’m not hiding from some crazy tentacle monster. I’m out there, ya know, fooling around with ponies, learning crazy factoids about the MM’s, designing weapons and stuff.

But that stuff is just what you do to fill the day. You need something more, I need something more. You need a goal, a dream, something to keep you getting up day after terrifying day. A purpose.

I see. So why are you scared?

I don’t know what I need anymore.

The narrow open passage of the cave loomed in front of Rita and Double Tap like the mouth of a great serpent. Rita stood behind Tap and nervously played with the zipper of her flak vest. The wound on her hind left seemed to flare up.

Rita spoke quickly, not taking her eyes off the cave. "Ya know, on second thought, maybe we should skip the cave. Just head on and get the job done without any time wasted. I'm sure they'll have much more comfortable places to rest in town after you kill all the raiders."

At a glacial speed, Tap turned to face Rita. "We have been walking all night and by 'we' I mean 'me' since you were either flying or riding on my back. Now you're saying you want me to walk into a town full of raiders and kill them all before I’ve even had lunch?"

"Well of course it sounds bad when you say it that way," Rita said with a shrug.

"Get fucked, feather-face," Tap said and descended into the cave, his horn lighting up in the darkness.

Rita watched him go with gritted teeth. With her wings spread and ready for flight, she waited. Tap's hoofsteps became fainter and fainter until they were gone.

"Fucking hell," Tap shouted. "What the fuck happened here?!"

Rita sighed with a smile and brushed at her head feathers. She figured if Tap was still alive to be surprised, then a big, angry, bleeding, armored—did she mention big and angry—pony wasn't waiting for her inside. She entered the cave with a light step and humming a little tune.

"What?" Rita called down, all smiles. "Is there a messy, jacked-up corpse in here?"

"No," Tap called back. "But something sure got beat to shit and back."

Rita's smile was gone. So was Iron Stag. There was every sign of what had taken place; scorch marks on the floor and ceiling, blood everywhere blood could conceivably be thrown, and even bits of metal and bone, but no body or blood trail leading out.

"So," Rita began casually as she shined her PipBuck in the deep shadows, looking for a mutilated, murderous marauder, "You ponies don't, I dunno, disintegrate on death now? Like that isn't some new thing that you're all into? Disintegrating?"

Tap was in the middle of taking a hearty swig from his canteen. He stopped and looked at her with a curled lip and cocked eye. "What the bibbledy-fuck are you yapping about?"

Rita laughed far too loudly. "Oh you know, things not being where they're supposed to and maybe being somewhere else and hating you. Are there any nasty, horrible animals that could devour as much meat as could be found in, let's say for the sake of argument, a large pony? And would these animals then take the bones and any other items in the area to build a nest with? That happens right? Butterflies totally do that, right?"

"I am way too sober for this shit," Tap muttered as he floated the water bottle back into his saddlebag and replaced it with a bottle of whiskey.

"What's gotten into you anyway?" he asked before downing a generous portion of the bottle. "I hardly hear a word out of you all day, I hardly even see you with you constantly flying off to check ahead and behind us, and now you're squawking like a fucking chicken with a stick up its ass."

With a huff, Rita stamped over to Tap and put a talon under his chin. "I'll have you know, all that 'flying off' ensured that we avoided four ant hills, seven giant scorpions, a good half dozen grumpy raiders, the entire Piranha tribe, and a very confused and trigger happy robot." Rita dropped her talon. "Also your 'chicken' and 'feather-face' remarks were very racist and hurtful."

Tap looked down at her very stern face with tears standing in her eyes and he burst out laughing. "Oh come the fuck on," he chortled. "That's a pile of bullshit and you know it."

With a blink, the tears were gone and Rita rolled her eyes. "Hmph. Be that way then." She said sourly. Like a flipped switch, her sunny smile returned and she raised a talon in the air. "But I did help you avoid some scary looking raider guys a few hours back."

Tap sneered and took another swig. "You should have let them attack. Would have given me something to fucking do."

Rita waved her talon dismissively, "While I'd love to see you try to stab someone trying to shoot you with a long range rifle, I really didn't want to have to hire a third mark for this job."

"What was that?" Tap asked as the bottle popped from his lips.

"I said, I don't want to hire another merc—"

"Whatever," Tap belched. "I thought you hired me to kill raiders and now you're trying to say, what, that I'm not good enough to take on six?"

Rita sat down and rocked back onto hind lings, steepling her talons in front of her beak. "No, I hired you to kill some specific raiders at a specific location and I'm providing you with intel and and an eye in the sky to help you get the drop on them. You can get yourself killed trying to show the wasteland what a tough guy you are by trying to stab bullets out of the air or whatever on your own time."

Double Tap grunted and proceed to magically push all the bloodied dirt and dust off against the wall. Since her sour faced companion didn't say anything back, Rita declared herself the winner of the discussion as she happily pranced to remains of her old campfire. From her bag, she pulled the sticks she'd collected during the trip and made a pile.

"Spark it, big guy," Rita said with a wink.

Tap's chipped horn glowed as he retrieved a book of matches from his pocket, striking one against a rock and tossed it into the kindling. He floated off his saddlebags and sat them by the growing fire, then he unceremoniously sat down on top of them with his eyes towards entrance, keeping his pistol by his side. Rita dropped her bag next to him and flopped down with her hind legs stretch toward the fire.

A magical glow enveloped Tap’s saddlebags, and a cloth feedbag floated from within. The scarred unicorn fastened it to his face. Rita cocked a brow as she idly watched him chew the bag’s contents, until a gurgle from her belly pulled her away.

After digging into the bag under her rump, Rita pulled out a clear plastic bag containing strips of meat, she quickly skewered them on a nearby stick. Licking her beak, Rita pulled out the kebab and held it over the fire.

“What’s that you got there,” Tap asked from behind his feedbag.

“The best kinda meat in Equestria,” Rita sighed, eyeing the smoking bits as the natural greases dripped off. Satisfied that they were cooked enough, Rita ripped a piece from the stick and chewed slowly. Her entire body shivered in ecstasy and a slight moan escaped her as she held off swallowing.

“Sounds good,” Tap said, shifting on his haunches and noticeably squeezing his knees together. “Trade you some oats for a couple pieces,” Tap offered, hopefully.

Finally swallowing, Rita looked over to Tap. She thought about the effort she had gone to stripping the meat from her former partner's severed leg and how long it might be until she got her claws on some more pony meat. She shrugged and yanked off two slivers of meat, figuring she could do without if it meant more trust from her partner. Tap tipped his head back and pulled the feed bag open with his magic, dumping a mouthful into Rita's open claw. He tipped his head back down and she dropped the cooked pony bits down the side.

Rita downed her oats and Tap chewed on his new meaty treat, both of them mmming their approval. Not long after, the remains of Iron Stag had gone to their second-to-final resting place and Tap was straining his tongue to find more oats. In short order Tap's bag was put away and Rita's bloodied stick was tossed in the fire, leaving the pair in an awkward silence.

"So tell me, Double Tap." Rita tugged her vest’s collar loose as she spoke. "Is that your real name? Sounds a bit too cool for a stupid pony name. No offense"

"I answer to it," he grunted. "It's real enough."

Rita chewed the corner of her mouth gave a harumph. She did not relent.

"So where you from?"

"Outside this cave."

"Any family?"

"Probably not."

"You got a girlfriend?"

"Fuck off."

"Boyfriend?"

"Fuck off."

“You got a goatfriend?”

“Fu— Wait, what?”

"What do you do for fun?"

Tap sucked his whiskey bottle dry and replaced it with another. Rita took that as his most honest and open answer so far. She tapped the side of her beak and decided to switch tactics.

“So who’s your favorite Ministry Mare?”

"Who?" Tap asked, popping the cork of his latest whiskey bottle. "Oh right, those old, dead broads you see on posters and shit with those stupid fucking slogans." He sat quietly in deep contemplation.

"I'd fuck the one with the hair," he said finally.

"Oh wow, me too," Rita chirped. "I just bet that hair feels so-"

"Brap!" Tap belched loudly.

Tap pulled a knife from his sleeve with his mouth. He tossed his head back, releasing the blade in to the air and watched it twirl before catching it in his magic. Rita watched him continue in his knife play. He balanced the handle of blade on one forehoof and passed it the other. She got bored of it quickly.

"So how did you get those scars," she chirped, causing him to drop his knife.

"I got shot," he said with an edge of aggravation in his voice.

"Oh yeah,” Rita chimed in merrily, “that's the worst,"

Silence followed on both sides. Rita watched the fire light play over her painted talons and Tap swallowed another mouthful of whiskey.

Rita grabbed her paws and rocked back and forth. "So, do you want to bump uglies?" Rita asked, not breaking her rocking rhythm.

The mouthful of whiskey Double Tap spat erupted into a rather impressive fireball. Rita took the moment of increased lighting to admire her painted hind nails.

"You wanna repeat that?" he choked.

"Well," she exaggerated the movements of her tongue as she spoke. "I'm bored, it's been a long couple of days, you're a lousy conversationalist, and neither of us has a deck of cards. So..." Rita tugged down the zipper of her vest and shrugged her shirt down her back. "Unless you have a better idea..."

Tap was on her without another word. Rita squawked as they both tumbled backwards to the earthen floor of the cave. He started kissing right on the corner of her mouth, sliding in his tongue and finding her own. His tongue was smoother and wetter than hers, both were plenty mobile and lengthy enough to explore the whole of each other's mouth, tracing the strange landscapes of their teeth.

Rita crawled her talons under Tap's sweater, feeling his heartbeat against her palms. Her claw slid out from under his collar and she began caressing the front and sides of his neck. She broke away from the kiss, his tongue sliding out of her mouth wetly, and she ran her beak over his newly exposed chest.

"You're a good griffon smoocher," Rita cooed between nibbles. "Most ponies have to ask first. Experience?"

"Good imagination," he panted, burying his face in the top of head, inhaling her scent.

From under the tangle of Tap's sweater, Rita's claw slid down. Still kissing and biting his chest, she groped blindly for the object of her desires. She found him already stiff and engorged, and she started moving him into her.

Without warning, he slipped from her grasp and went sliding down her leg. Tap gave a sly grin as he went on down. He kissed down her neck and and chest.

"No need to be polite," Rita whined as his dick got further away. "Really, I'm already ready already, you can stick it in whenever."

"Who said I was doing this for you," he whispered before trailing his tongue to her belly. His lips wrapped around one of her nipples and he looked back up at her.

"And do you really want me to stop?" He asked, each move of his lips tickled her tit, sending shivers up Rita's spine.

Rita's toes curled, nails scratching at the air, as Tap began to lightly nibble. Her eyes rolled back and she mumbled, “No, you can just keep doing what you’re doing...”

All six nipples were given special attention before Tap moved his mouth lower. Rita was writhing in anticipation, her claws rubbing hard against her own face and neck. She felt his breath between her hind legs, he held his nose just over her and breathed deep.

Patience gone, Rita wrapped her ankles around behind Tap's head and pulled, arching her back slightly. He didn't resist. His muzzle ground into her and his tongue slid deep.

Coos became gasps as Tap tended to her, gently but thoroughly. She reached down and squeezed his ears, kneading them between her talons. He slid his hooves from her paws up her legs.

Rita's little noises turned into a single sharp cry of pain as Tap's hoof went over her still fresh gunshot wound.

Tap yanked his head away. "Shit! Sorry!" His hoof receded and he looked to her. "Fuck, that was stupid of me... did I reopen it? Do you need some potion?"

Rita readied her paws to kick him back with a biting comment, but stopped. Tap's eyes were wide and searching, his teeth were clenched, and his ears were plastered to his skull; he was genuinely concerned.

There was a grin on Rita's face as she put a claw on his cheek. She slid her claw from his face, down his neck and shoulder, to his right foreleg. She grabbed his hoof and lead it gently to her bandaged leg, directing it to her wound and then slowly pushing down. Her breath came in hisses through her clenched teeth and she dug her talons into Tap's fetlock. He only stared as she reached out a talon and touched it to his nose. She pushed firmly and he followed down below her belly until his muzzle disappeared between her hind legs.

Tap's eyes peered over the small furry hill of Rita's belly and stayed fixed on her own. He watched as he applied more pressure to her leg. She watched him in turn as she dug her talons deeper. All the while, he worked his tongue.

Rita's talon had half vanished into the meat of his legs by the time she was panting in pain of her own. With a cry she pulled her bloodied talons from Tap's legs and pushed his hoof away.

"You win," she panted.

After one final, slow lick across the nub of Rita's clit, Tap raised his head. He licked his lips clean as he sat up, giving his bleeding legs no heed.

"What do I win?" he asked with a slow smile.

Rita's smile was all teeth as she lurched forward. With a firm push against his shoulders, Tap rolled from his haunches, onto his back. Her palms flattened against both hind hooves and splayed them wide, eyeing his erection hungrily. She curled back and sprang between his legs, straddling his belly when she landed, her claws on his chest.

Tap stared up at Rita before busying himself kissing her wrists. She raised herself up and ran the puff of her tail along the underside of his shaft, then she scooted back and rested her tail lightly on top of his dick, lowering herself. When the head touched her sex, she let her tongue loll out and out until it hung against her neck. Achingly slow, she slid down his length.

Once she came to a rest with him entirely inside her, Rita leaned her head down and flicked her tongue across Tap’s lips. He pushed his face towards hers, but she leaned back swiftly and pressed her palm against his throat. She raised herself back up to the top of his flare, leaving his cock shining in her juices.

This time, as Rita slid down, Tap bucked his hips up. Rita cried out before bringing her beak to his mouth. He hastily kissed up her beak to the soft flesh of her nostrils before she pulled away and went back up.

The rules were set and the games began. Rita would lock eyes with Tap and slide down faster and harder. Tap was only allowed to move his hips and face, but had to keep his neck still. Each thrust, he’d kiss somewhere else; the underside of her jaw, between her eyes, using his tongue he was even able to catch her by the headfeathers and yank her down to get the top of her head.

Each time, Rita came down harder, until she was slamming down on top of him. She didn’t have much weight, but the base of her tail knocked straight in between his balls. He didn’t react beyond grunting with each thrust.

As her slams got faster, the intervals Tap had to kiss her got shorter. When Rita pulled away too fast for him to do more than graze her cheek, she saw determination in his eyes. The next descent, he broke from under her claw and wrapped both forehooves around the back of her neck, holding her tight. They both rocked their hips as fast as they could while they kissed with increased fervor.

Tap jammed his muzzle into Rita’s open beak. His nose was scratched by the points her teeth, but he pressed on so that his tongue plunged into her throat. Her eyes went wide, with his tongue pushing into her throat and his dick deep inside her, she could do nothing but to react his every move. His hooves were rough against the back of her neck and she found herself crying inexplicably. He paused when a tear spattered against his face, but she held him tight, squeezing her hind legs and gripping him behind the ears.

The pair rocked in sync, getting more frenzied. Rita’s teeth dug further into Tap’s muzzle as her talons scratched his scalp. The nails of her hind paws were embedded firmly into his haunches. The pressure became too much, and Rita pushed tap’s mouth away from hers and she let out a long screech. They came together, the combined fluids seeped from Rita’s sore privates and down Tap’s belly as she pulled away.

With a heavy, contented sigh, Rita collapsed against Tap. He slowly took his hooves from around her neck and put one under her beak. He lifted her face up slightly and kissed the tear-slicked feathers under her eyes.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

Rita sighed and reached her claw between them, slathering it with the sticky mess she found. Breathing heavy, she slid her tongue over her palm and each talon. Finally, she looked at Tap in the eyes. She crawled forward, hugged his head, and whispered into his ear.

“That was a really, really good first round.”

Lying flat on the cliff just outside of the crumbling town, Tap and Rita watched through the same pair of binoculars. Down below, they saw ponies in armor made of thrown-together scrap metal patrolling the streets in the late afternoon light. Some wore bits of ponies around their waist. One was using the open mouth of a severed head as an ammo tote. All were well armed; pistols, shotguns, rifles, and even a flamethrower were held aloft in angry mouths or floating in a unicorn's levitation.

Rita turned and punched Tap lightly on the shoulder. "Go get 'em, killer!"

After a few seconds of glaring, Tap replied, "I’m thinking I shouldn’t attack a force that outnumbers me thirty to one in broad daylight. I work nights, using the shadows, not being shot in the face. That sort of thing."

"So what do we do until then?" she asked with a wink and a grin.

"Go fly around and see if they're moving in any sort of pattern, also see if you can spot any nasty surprises from the air," Tap whispered. He pulled the binoculars over both eyes. "I'll see what I can see from here."

With a disappointed sigh, Rita deflated and slowly scuttled back from the cliffs edge. With a flap of her wings and a small hop, she was airborne. Circling, she pounded her wings for altitude until she was all but touching the cloud layer. Only then did she begin her fly over of the nearby, occupied town.

"One nice thing about the cloud layer," Rita chirped to herself, "don't have to worry about throwing down a shadow." She kissed her palm and slapped it against the nearest cloud. "Thanks, pega-sisies."

On the streets, the raiders scurried like ants. Well armed ants that scurried very slowly. Boring ants, Rita concluded finally.

The raiders patrol pattern could be summed up as: walk up the street, turn around, and walk back down. They'd obviously been in control of the area for so long that they no longer expected any form of resistance. Rita had a brief arial freakout when she saw a rifle barrel poking out by a hole in the only tall standing building, a hotel from the looks of it, but a fly-by revealed the sniper was sound asleep.

Her interest waning and hours to go before sundown, Rita turned to her PipBuck. Using the graph function, she began coming up with mathematical equations that formed doodles of herself wearing various fashionable hats. After careful calculations, she determined that fedoras were far too casual, sun hats made her look old, and that she looked drop-dead gorgeous in a flapper hat.

After killing an hour with that, Rita's focus shifted to two raiders in the wheat field behind restaurant. To be exact, her attention was drawn to what they were doing in the wheat field. With a wicked smile, Rita grabbed a hunk of cloud and tore it loose. Slowly, she pushed the chunk closer down, stopping well above the eye line of the anyone in the hotel.

Making herself comfy on her little couch in the sky, Rita watched the two raiders go. They were both stallions and Rita could tell right away that this was not just a casual hook up; it was very intimate.

Using two talons, Rita poked a hole through her little cloud mattress and she laid on her belly. With one eye on the hole and two claws between her hind legs, she watched.

The one on top had a dark brown, stringy mane that fell over his pale gray face. He was kissing the neck of a pale blue unicorn with a spiked, green mane. The earth pony worked his hooves across the unicorn’s sides and they disappeared under his belly. The unicorn moaned and turned, looking back over his shoulder to kiss his lover.

"I love you so fuckin' much," he said after breaking the kiss.

The earth pony raised his eyebrow. "Is that the best you can do for romance?" He deepened his voice and unfocused his eyes. "Aw yeah I love it when you touch my penis and stuff."

"Hey, fuck you," the unicorn said bitterly. "You told me you like the dirty talk—"

The unicorn stopped talking and moaned as his dick was caressed by the unkempt fetlock of the other stallion. Rita was panting along with him.

"I'm teasing you," the earth pony hissed into the unicorn's ear. "But if you want me to cut to the chase..."

The earth pony pulled his hips back slowly, dragging his erection against the unicorn's. Rita chewed her shirt collar to keep quiet as the earth pony thrust into the unicorn.

Humming a jaunty nursery rhyme about how to cook ponies, Rita circled in for a landing well away from the cliff where Double Tap was pacing impatiently. She made sure to have what drearily passed for sunset to be at her back because she thought it made her look cooler.

"What did you find out?" Tap demanded as soon she touched down.

"Oh hi, Rita," Rita replied in a light, conversational voice. "I'm glad to see that you weren't shot out of the sky and brutalized by the nasty criminals." Rita stepped sideways and looked over to where she was a moment prior, she gave a short curtsy. "Why thank you Mr. Tap, your concern is appreciated."

Tap screwed up his face and rubbed his forehead with a hoof. "Are you crazy? I mean, really crazy?"

Rita looked over to the unicorn and her feathers and fur bristled. "I'm saying that a little politeness would be appreciated. We're working together."

With a snort, Tap answered back. "You want politeness, hire a hooker. I just shoot ponies." With a magical flick, he tossed Rita her binoculars and she fumbled to catch them. "Now what did you see?"

Sourly, Rita smacked a couple buttons on her PipBuck and held out her forelimb for him to see. "Their patrol pattern is boring and stupid and I hate it."

"The fuck am I looking at?" he asked and tapped on the PipBuck's monitor.

Rita brought the computer in front of her face and giggled. "Oh, that's me in a fancy hat." She pushed a button below the screen and the image changed. "And this is me in a bowler hat. And this is me in a stetson. Oh and these are some gay raiders, or gayders, I saw doing it in the wheat field. Look! I gave them a baby! Note the foal-skull rattle."

Tap had stopped looking at the screen and was staring at Rita with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. "You do remember that you hired me to kill these assholes, right?"

"Duh," Rita said sticking out her tongue. Her eyes lit up and she clicked two talons together. "Hey! Do you think you could kill both of them together and like, lay them together? It'd be so romantic!"

"Lady," Tap said shaking his head, "you are fucking sick."

Tap's horn glowed, ensnaring Rita's PipBuck and he yanked it from her forelimb. Floating it in front of his face, he pushed random buttons until it switched back to the actual maps and charts Rita made. He stared at the patrol patterns, clicking back and forth between pictures.

"Rude," Rita snapped, snatching the device from his magic field with both claws.

Trotting over to the cliff, Tap took a deep breath, held it, and released it slowly. "Okay, I've got it. Run some numbers for me."

"Beg pardon," Rita said as she slid her PipBuck on to her right forelimb. "What numbers?"

"My odds of success," Tap nickered.

"Oh," Rita stared at a spot somewhere behind Tap. "Right. The numbers. Let me do that."

Shuffling, Rita turned her back to Tap. She chewed the corner of her mouth and pushed random buttons on her PipBuck. "Beep," she said out of the corner of her mouth. "Beep-boop. Boop. Beep."

With a shaky thumbs-up and a too-wide smile, Rita faced Tap. "Numbers are good. Real good. Go get 'em."

Tap's smiled the same kind of smile a timberwolf would give a cute little bunny. "Time to go to work."

He waved his hoof down at Rita. “You stay here, out of sight.” He stared out at the town. “Some of them have rifles and you’re a griffon with pink glow-in-the-dark nail polish.”

“You noticed!” Rita squealed, wiggling her pink painted talons and toe nails.

Tap looked disturbed as he looked back at Rita. “Yeah, you’re not coming with me. I’ll whistle for you when the area’s clear.”

“Pbth!” Rita raspberried. “Anypony can whistle, you just put your lips together and blow.” Rita reached into a shirt pocket and withdrew a small silver cylinder. “Here, take this and flash it back over here when you’re done. It’s a laser sight thingy-do, so I’ll be able to see it even way out here.”

The laser pointer was enveloped by Tap’s magic and hovered into his bags. He nodded and started down the incline. Something tensed inside Rita. She didn’t really count on him making it back, but she wanted him to have a chance, she figured he had earned that. Also, more dead raiders made it easier for her.

“Hey, D.T.!” she hissed. He stopped and she hustled over to him, pulling out an inhaler from her shirt with her beak. She tossed it and it spun in the air towards him before coming to a stop in his levitation field. “Take this, too. It’s Dash. It speeds up your perception and stuff. Might help level the playing field if it gets rough.”

“I know what Dash is,” he bristled. “I’m an adult!” He floated into his saddlebags and turned away. “Thanks.”

“Remember, there’s a lot more of them than you,” Rita said to the back of his head as he descended. “You should try playing this quietly!”

Rita watched him go, silently galloping down into the ruin of a town. He slipped into the shadows of the rubble and alleyways. Rita sincerely believed he'd kill a lot of them before he died. She just hoped it'd be enough for her to slip in during the confusion.

Through the binoculars, Rita saw Tap climb up through the collapsed section of the hotel and disappear through one of the more intact rooms. Almost a minute later, the nearest sentry on the road ambled by, obviously drunk or stoned. Rita felt her cautious optimism rising, they were complacent. Tap was no Iron Stag, but judging from the scars, he could take some punishment. So long as he was quiet, she figured he could do a lot of damage before he was brought down.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Rita jerked her binoculars to the side in time to see a free-falling pony splatter across the pavement. She flicked her eyes up in time to see Tap before he vanished away from the window, looking quite proud.

"So much for playing it quiet," Rita muttered to herself.

A half dozen sentries ran to the front of the hotel, gathering around the chunky salsa that used to be their sniper. She only barely noticed the small, round objects that landed in the middle of them. The explosion that followed, however, was hard to miss.

Rita's beak fell open and her neck slumped. The entire population of the town was flooding into the streets and headed straight for the hotel in a river of little lights, all screaming and taking pot shots at the open window. Almost half the mob kicked the front door to splinters and charged inside.

"Well, there's confusion alright," Rita griped, shoving her binoculars inside her vest. "But they're so worked up, that they'll probably scour the town for any others after they kill you, you jerk.” She threw her bag over her shoulder and it slapped hard against her back. “Thanks for sticking to the plan!"

An explosion inside the hotel drew Rita’s attention. She glanced over her shoulder, her wings already spread for flight. She saw Double Tap leap off the ledge from the half-collapsed section of the third floor. She starred in mute shock as he landed on a bed on the second floor. He bounced straight to his hooves and found cover in the rubble.

Rita sat back down slowly and took out her binoculars.

A line of four raiders marched into the blown open side of the building where Tap was hiding. Rita reached into her duffel bag and pulled out a claw full of oats she had swiped from Tap’s saddlebag earlier. She munched them as she watched Tap fall in step behind the raiders.

Two of them fell without a sound, their throats cut. The third must have made some noise, because the fourth turned around and sprayed with a machine gun. Tap used the third raider’s body as a shield and chucked a knife at the last raider’s forehead, burying it to the hilt. The earth pony died a unicorn. Rita almost choked, stifling her laugh.

Rita was transfixed now. She’d watch Tap disappear into the shadows and lure another raider in, then he’d come out alone. As this cycle repeated for the next hour, she actually forgot why she was there in the first place until he made his way to the restaurant. Her heart clenched in her chest: she had won.

Bullets blasted through the door and Tap jumped to the side. Rita screamed when Tap threw a grenade through a hole in the door. “Don’t hurt the comics, you bumbling—”

She didn’t get finish as the grenade was thrown right back out and she heaved a sigh of relief. Tap was less than thrilled to have his un-pinned grenade resting at his side and he gave it a magical kick into the air where it exploded harmlessly.

“It’d serve you right if you got blown up,” Rita muttered. “I said not to use explosives inside the restaurant, you dingus.”

Pressed against the wall, Tap pulled something out of his shirt. Rita zoomed in a little and saw that it was the Dash inhaler. He sucked it dry. And then he was gone.

Tap wasn’t really moving any faster, but was suddenly a lot more methodical in those movements. He went at the doorway high and from the left but ducked and went in low on the right side, bullets flying around him. Several shots followed, and then silence.

Rita held her breath, clutching the binoculars tight. She silently prayed that Tap had at least wounded the last raider before dying.

Rita noticed a tiny, red dot just to her right. Instinctively, she slapped at it with her claw, only for the dot to suddenly be on on the back of it. Slowly, it dawned on her what she was looking at. She turned her gaze to the roof and there he was. Tap stood on top of the restaurant, a smile on his face, and the laser pointer in his mouth like a cigar.

“Mine!” Rita shrieked and jumped from the cliff, her wings catching air.

Rita flew fast and low; a furry, feathery missile streaking towards the restaurant. She rolled back and flapped her wings hard to break her momentum right as she got to the doorway. She was careful only to the point of landing so her uninjured leg took the brunt of the impact.

Now grounded, Rita was running as fast as her limp would allow. She paid no mind to the pony by the concierge desk, lying on his side with his throat cut open. She turned sharply left into the 'treasure room'.

When Rita had been casing the place a few weeks back, she'd seen shelves full of food and medicines. More importantly, there were wire racks along the wall and a turnstile in the middle of the room. All of them had held glossy comics with different pictures of Rainbow Dash on the cover. There was even several life-sized cardboard standees of the heroic pony in various poses.

This was not what Rita saw when she entered the room.

"No," Rita whimpered. Her teeth were clenched and her tail dragged as she surveyed the damage.

The wire racks were heaped in the corner, torn apart and made into an impromptu gun-rack. The books were gone. There was the remains of a large bonfire, tiny pieces of paper showing bits of rainbow maned pegasus were all that remained. Even more horrifying was what she saw in the corner; the raiders had been using that part of the room as a toilet. There were torn pages in the filth, ruined beyond any chance of recovery.

The remains of the front door creaked as Tap pushed them open. "Raiders are dead," he said dully.

Rita turned and stormed past him into the main dining area.

"I'm fine, by the way," Tap called after her grumpily.

Grabbing a clawful of mane, Rita jerked the dead raider's face up to her her eye-level. She shook the raider as she yelled into his face.

"Do you have any idea what you've done!?" Rita shrieked. She dug her talons into the corpse's cheek, his tongue rolled out of his mouth. "You've taken an extremely valuable historical find and used it as toilet paper you evil, evil pony!"

Something black leaked out of the hole in his throat and Rita threw him back down. His chin struck the floor hard and his teeth clicked shut, severing his tongue. Rita picked it up and used it to smack him in the face.

"This is your lying tongue," she shouted before shoving the bit of meat into her pocket. "I deny you it! You're a jerk and a creep and I'm sure your mother was very disappointed in your life choices!"

"Hey, they got some good shit in here," Tap shouted from the befouled gift shop.

Wiping the blood off her claws on the dead pony's shirt, Rita hurried back into shop. Maybe she'd overlooked something, she thought as she turned the corner. Her hopes were shattered at the sight of Tap loading up guns and pieces of body armor into a large bag.

Rita made a noise somewhere between a roar and a shriek as she dove at the nearest shelf. She slapped cans of food, both empty and full to the floor. There were coffee cans full of ammo magazines. She upended them and dumped them to the floor, then she rifled through medkits and threw them against the wall after finding only medicines.

"Hey, watch it, that's my pay!" Tap shouted.

Rita glared back and shrieked as she put all her weight against the shelf. It crashed to the floor, crushing potions and cans of food.

Tap burst out laughing. "That's coming out of your cut," he chuckled.

Shrieking and laughing, Rita ran to the next shelf. She once more threw the contents around the room, only half looking for the books. Her priority had become destruction. Again she pushed the shelf to the floor, all while Tap laughed and stamped his hooves approvingly.

"Why don't you check for a wall safe?" Tap asked in between fits of laughter.

After throwing down four more shelves, Rita decided Tap's suggestion was the best idea ever. Step one was to yank down everything hanging on the wall. Step two was tearing at the peeling wallpaper. Step three was tearing at the walls themselves. Finally, step four was crying because there wasn't anything thing behind the walls.

With a roar of frustration, Rita leapt at the last standing shelf off to the side of the room. She was no longer looking at what she threw to the ground, simply breaking things just to break them. The shelves empty, she put all her weight against the frame itself.

It refused to budge.

The last strand of stability snapped inside of the little griffon. Rita yanked her head feathers and slapped her tail against the floor. She jumped on the face of shelf and bucked her hips to pull it down.

"If that thing falls on you after you destroyed most of the medicine," Tap said, laughing so hard he had collapsed against the far wall.

His words were meaningless to the crazed griffon. She kicked the shelves with both paws at once, spreading her wings and flapping hard while tugging with her claws. It didn't move.

I'm not gonna get what I want here, Rita thought miserably. She arched her back as she heaved one last time, practically hanging upside down. If I can't even knock down a shelf, why do I think I have what it takes to topple—

Her thoughts were interrupted by her comic slipping from her vest and sliding open across her face. Slowly, Rita lowered herself to the floor, making sure the book stayed on her beak. She sat with her back against the shelf and her hind legs spread out in front of her.

Maybe I need to aim smaller, she thought as she flipped through her comic for the hundredth time. What I have here and now is valuable to me, maybe that's enough. I could clean this place up, hire some more goons like laughing boy over there to keep it safe. I could read from this book to visitors and make up my own stories too. I'm sure I could find artists to help illustrate. I could teach future generations all from right here. Just a small, happyish life. What more do I need?

Rita sighed, tipping her head back. On the underside of one the shelves was a small green button.

"Everything!" Rita shouted. She threw her comic violently into the corner and hopped to her feet. Wearing a mad smile, she pushed the button.

Narrow strips of floor slid away with a mechanical whir, revealing tracks leading under the shelf. There was a clicking noise from beneath, and then silence.

Rita gave the shelf a light push on the side and it slid down the tracks. Where the shelf used to be was a staircase leading down to a heavy metal door. Tap had stopped laughing.

The unicorn raised his gun and stepped towards the new passageway. Rita pushed past him, ignoring his pointless words of caution. She knew neither hoof or paw had touched these steps in two hundred years.

The heavy metal handle of the door was cold to the touch. She tugged, and it opened with a hiss, fog and cold air spilling out around her paws.

The interior was a giant walk-in freezer. There were ten pallets inside. On top of the slabs of wood, stacked higher than her eye level and wrapped in clear plastic, were issues one through ten of “Rainbow Dash’s Tales of Loyalty and Bravery”.

Rita's smile was cruel and sharp as she ran her talons across a cardboard standee of Rainbow Dash rearing up with her wings spread. A small, happyish life? No thanks, you can keep your runner-up prizes for the losers. I'm a winner, and it's all gonna be mine.