Chapter 13: Push the Sky Away

The ticking must never stop, I imagined. Pon3 had closed the audio as soon as I’d stopped talking, the only sound was the old building settling in a fresh hell and the ticking of my suits rad-meter. Is this death? My eyes were shut, and I was laying on my side. It felt like hours, felt like days, felt like years were crawling by and leaving me for nothing at all. At last I opened them, strangely aware that I hadn’t yet died.

I almost wished I had. My innards felt like hot lava had been poured inside of me, brain like it was filled with fuzz instead of anything else. Everything breath snet knives through my lungs. I’d long ago run out of Radaway and Rad-X, at least my suit told me so. I was out of luck in that regard. My head shook as I rose, steadily stumbling onto my hooves, thankful that my suit was still working, even in this.

The room’s lights were flickering on and off, more on than off, which was nice. My attention was diverted to something opening the main doors. I slumped back into a ready stance. The dark shape from the threshold stayed still for a moment before advancing on me. As it got nearer, I recognized it, beneath the tattered hood was Short Change. Bloodlust filled my head, my jaw wrenched open in a battlecry. This would be a death, I realized, a death worth having. I took two flying steps towards him before leaping into the air, closing the distance in moments. I had to get him before he used magic.

His gaze turned up to meet mine a split second before I came crashing onto him, weight of me and my armor sending him flying back under me. The two of us rolled back, slamming into the now closed door. I raised up a hoof and brought it down on Short’s head. He ducked his head, barely avoiding the blow that dented the door. Kicking with his hindlegs he got his shoulder under my gut and lifter me off him. I fell back onto my side. I rolled to the side, careful not to stay still for too long.

When I got onto my hooves, Short hadn’t moved from the doorway, but he was holding his ground. The fight was sending blood pumping through my body.Why wasn’t I dying? That thought coursed through my head. I ground one of my hooves into the ground, thinking. The power from my movement cracked the old tiles beneath me. Small splotches of blood, I noticed, had started to appear under Short.

“First Rimfire, now you? Why?” he asked. And it sounded like hadn’t known me, at least, not in the way he used to. A sense of familiarity lost. I narrowed my eyes.

“You’re a murderer,” I said coldly. Short’s gaze flickered across the room. “Do you think it would be okay? That you could just launch a megaspell?” I started to charge at him again. He ducked to the side but our shoulder clipped, sending us both into the doorway. I raised a hoof to bring down on his head, wondering why he wasn’t fighting as hard.
----

My head felt like it was splitting at the seams. I put one hoof to my forehead, but that wasn’t any help. I sat up straight and looked around. This wasn’t the megaspell ring. Somepony must have carried me away, but who? I rifled through my bag, torn open but thankfully not empty, searching for a healing potion. There was on’y one, and half empty due to a nick in the bottle. I drank it anyways, greedy for the nectar. I checked my weapon, rifle was okay.

A little way down the hallway I saw a small shape, possibly a pony, still moving a slight amount. I got onto my hooves and trotted over. Even through the blood I knew the filly immediately. Bolt lay on the ground, blood gushing from her mouth as she coughed silently, eyes darkened and grey. I scooped her up, wishing I’d saved the potion, knowing with a terrible confidence she wouldn’t have one. Already she felt colder than a pony should feel. I swallowed a lump in my throat. Behind me I heard hoofsteps. The hallways stretched on further, but I hadn’t taken the time to take it all in. I’d woken up in a pile of rubble that took up most of the floor, and just ten feet away Bolt had fallen. She’d dragged me to her death. My heart plummeted at the steps came nearer. I turned to ask if they could help, but the words caught in my throat.

In a heartbeat I knew it was Short Change. He’d always been reckless, and a little stupid. When I’d met him he hadn’t been malicious, if anything he’d been nice. But to launch a megaspell? To kill those ponies who’d surrendered? He wasn’t walking right, he must have been injured in the fall or explosion impact.

I shook my head, it wasn’t right to forgive a pony, even one that had been a friend. How could I not have known he’d become so insane? When he’d nearly gotten me killed in the Lab should have been the only clue I’d needed. They always said that you couldn’t trust a pony in the Wastes unless you had their balls in a vice, and expect a slow death once you let them go.

Something inside me was breaking with the stree. Why should I even defend the sorry pony in front of me? Bolt had become something like a daughter to me, one I’d likely never find again. Even as a looked, her breathing stopped, chest stagnant, eyes glossed over, so clean I could almost see myself for how I felt. I felt like breaking down and crying. All the evidence for Short’s death sat in front of me, lying in a pool of her own blood as she tried to save me. I grit my teeth and stared hard at the scarred stallion in front of me.

“Rimfire?” he asked, voice strangely different. “Where are we?” With my magic I whipped my gun around, aiming straight for his chest. “What are you doing?” Emotions were running wild in my mind, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. Short took a short step back when he felt the presence of the gun on him. “Why?”

“You forgot already?” I asked, incredulous. “You’re an asshole.” I realized I should probably shoot him. It was ponies like him that start wars, or end them. I would be doing the Wasteland a favor by shooting him in the chest, or once between the eyes, just to make sure. Maybe it would even feel good. Hell, it would definitely feel great.

“Forgot what?” He saw the filly dying next to me, forgotten momentarily in the action. “Who is that?” A sliver of ice appeared in my heart.

“You forgot Bolt?” I muttered, stunned. “You piece of shit.” My mouth and head were on autopilot as I took steps forward. “You fuckwit, no-brained... cock-sucking son of a bitch.” My gun was jabbing at this armor now. “You said she’d be safe... you promised her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.” Feeling nothing at all, I stepped back and cocked my gun. “Rimfire?”

“There’s nothing to say anymore,” I muttered. Short took to me in a run. Before I could get a round off his shoulder checked mine and I had to readjust, but he’d already turned down one of the hallways. I sat on the ground next to Bolt, holding her still warm body close to my chest.

---

Words, memories, ideas, all of them swirled around me. All I could hear or think about were snippets, like photographs with no explanation or story. Strange voices that in one moment sounded like an old friend, the next a stranger, then an enemy, or all at once. Sometimes I could swear my own voice came through, cracked and confident with a dark judgement. It was either a dream, life, or death. What it could be I wasn’t sure anymore. I couldn’t tell my own body from the ones from my mind in any sense.

I think he’s coming around.

I opened my eyes, expecting somepony to be there. There was nopony around, instead I was alone. Above me was a hanging metal structure, a ring of metal and rust, wires and all, hanging bodies of ponies. There was a hole in the center through which I see the sky, pale and blue. I wanted to reach a hoof up, to see if I could touch it, but my body was trapped under rubble, only my head free and barely at that.

Using my magic to free myself was an old trick, but feeling the freedom of the open air felt strangely refreshing.

What’s wrong with his face?

My head jerked to the side, words hitting it like a slap to the face. Where was I? I felt around my body, looking for clues. A gun and holster tied to the my fetlock I had no recollection of. The only gun I knew, the Luna, was gone, chest holster empty of its familiar weight. Just touching the leather with my hoof sent shivers down my spine. I got off the ground tenderly, searching for the fallen revolver.

Under a rock, further to the door, I spotted a glint of steel. I rushed to it, it was halfway between me and the door. I kicked over the rock, only to see that the barrel had cracked, Luna’s head split in two. I grimaced in pain, headache flaring as I looked at it. It wasn’t Luna, it was some other pony. Just as tall but a crooked horn and holes where flesh and bone would be. I kicked the gun to the side in anger.

You’ll be safe with us. I promise we’ll keep the bad ponies away

Who had said that? I got on my hooves and started walking, stumbling to the door. My hooves didn’t want to cooperate with me anymore. I relented against them, pushing forward until I passed the threshold, and wouldn’t stop.

You can’t do that, it’s madness.
Is it safe here?
Kill them all, who gives a shit?

The voices wouldn’t stop assailing my aching head. I was swaying to and fro as I passed through rooms. My memory seemed to be coming back. An underground ghoul, Steel Rangers, Thirteen. Sometimes I had to blink back the tears that welled up behind my eyes. A door opened and I found myself staring at another unicorn in a hallway. She was bent over something, I was wasn’t sure what, a trail of blood leading up to her.

It was Rimfire! The words came without my own conscious thought, she was talking about bolts, Bolt? It didn’t make any sense at all, but I wasn’t sure who was wrong anymore. When she raised her gun at me I booked it. Running my shoulder into her and ducking into another hallway.

I was wracking my brain trying to figure out why she was almost killed me. What was Bolt and why did it matter?

You don’t like Sugar?

What had that been? Sugar? I saw myself, but not as I was, sitting around a fire with Rimfire, a Steel Ranger, and a filly. She had been looking up at me, sitting closely to Rimfire. She didn’t like Sugar, her name? Could have been. I put my hooves to my eyes, taking a deep breath. What did it even matter? Another image passed through my mind, a stallion, head bursting with a rain of gore plastering itself to the face of a frozen mare. My body quaked in disgust. The image of skull imploding as a blast of pellets struck it, cracking through the bone before splattering the brain and pulling matter with it as they exit through the back, splitting the head like an egg.

I shut my eyes, remembering Bolt in all her wonder just for a moment. Baltimare had been hell. Whatever had been going on Avacyn was nothing that anypony should have been a part of. I keep walking through the ruined halls of the Stable, eyes quickly losing focus and just letting my legs take me where I needed to go.

When I came up to a door and opened it, I saw a strange figure in front of me. He stood in power armor, strong and he seemed surprised to see me. Before anything was said he came at me, charging like a bull. I didn’t dodge at first, taking the full brunt of the hit. I kicked him off, wondering.

“First Rimfire, now you?” I asked. Who was this pony. Looking at him made my brain hurt, seeing him in half a fog and half in life, like a dream you think is so clear in your head but remembering it is like grasping at sand. He tackled me, and I didn’t react at all, stunned at the violence in this stallion.

You’re a good pony, Short. You just can’t stop helping.
Starburst?
---

The servos in my armor didn’t even whine as they pushed past the tender flesh of Short Change’s throat. His horn didn’t glow magically as my hoof crushed his windpipe, a sickening, wet gurgle was all that escaped his throat. There was almost a look of understanding, a glimmer of understanding as he struggled to take a last breath, his lungs screaming for air and freedom from the blood.

I kept my hoof to his neck, watching him twitch and try to push me away. I watched as his movements became slower, weaker... until he stopped moving. A small drop of blood fell from his lips, hitting and sliding down my armored hoof. I took my hoof off of him, letting his body slump to the floor, motionless. He looked so strangely weak, a husk of what he had become. I walked through the door, away from him, the monster of Equestria.

In the end, I wish we could have died like Short. It’s a strange thing to say, wishing to be dead like a pony I used to know and cared about, probably still do in some small corner of my mind. In the end, it made sense to me that he knew what he was dying for. He was paying back for all the ponies he’d killed in cold blood, the ponies who’d wanted to give up and walk away. The flash in his eyes will stay with me until the end, a note of his own forgiveness for the act.

I wish Rimfire could have gone as gracefully or with any sort of meaning. The two of us had decided to pal around, finish what had been started so long ago. She took Short’s PipBuck, and we set out for the Iron Giant. I knew the place where it was supposed to be located, but had never been there myself.

On our third day traveling I heard a twang by my ear, following by the sound of a rubberband being snapped. I dropped to the ground, ducking for some cover. Rimfire, for once in her life, was a moment too slow. As she loped forward, a second shot took her in the head, entering behind her ear and erupting out of her eye socket, gore and blood spraying out in a thick mist.

I sat with my back on the ground, as close to the ground as I could. When I dropped I slipped my helmet on, cursing that I could have been so foolish.

I could have saved her, I bet. If I could have just gotten off my back and onto my legs, hid her body with mine, drag her away and pump her body full of chems. I could have done something for her. All I did was wait until nightfall, take her PipBuck, and move on. I didn’t feel much those days.

I saw them a lot in my dreams back then. First it was just Short. I’d see him, before he was scarred, back when he was innocent. I was still crushing him, and he had just the strength to stop the final push of my hoof. He asked my why I was killing him and why I was doing this to him. He would cry, and I would keep pushing, I couldn’t stop pushing his life away. When I woke up, it was in a sweat, my eyes glancing side to side, afraid I’d see him watching me, scarred or not.

Rimfire came to me in dreams too, or more me to her. I’d find her body on an empty stretch of highway. She’d lie there until I passed by, then she call for me. She’d beg for my help, moan at her own pains. She asked why I hadn’t helped her. It was easier to walk past her than to ignore Short, but not by much.

On the fifth day I found the door which had to be the right one. It was deeply set into a rocky crevice, metal the same color as the rock. If it hadn’t opened as I passed, I would never have found it. It must have sensed that I had the keycode with me. I went in without fear. It was funny to me that I only had heard of the Iron Giant in passing, and now the two who sought it originally were dead, killed by me. Most of my breathing was done slowly, air burning against my lungs. I coughed blood frequently, and when I took off my helmet I could see the dried splotches throughout.

Inside the complex reminded me heavily of an old hangar I’d seen once in a book. It was long, dimly lit, and filled with strange machines. It was perhaps fifty feet high and a thousand feet long. In the faraway distance, I spotted a still standing object, slightly swaying. I started towards, door open behind me, dust and sand blowing in through the gentle breeze.

The closer I got, the more of it I could see. It nearly touched the ceiling. It was a large object, taking up a good quarter of the hangar. There wasn’t any way it wasn't’ the Iron Giant. The object had been swaying because the entire surface was covered in tarps and cloths. More bodies were spread around it, old, forgotten corpses and skeletons. Here and there I saw Memory orbs, useless trinkets to me.

The Giant dwarfed me, making me feel like an ant. I tugged against the tarps, they tore rather than pulled off, but it didn’t matter. They came undone and I could see the behemoth underneath. The creation hidden away for nigh 200 years.

If this was indeed the Iron Giant, it earned it’s name. It was a massive machine of metal and ingenuity. It looked to be mostly centered around a long pill-shaped body, with two sets of what looks to be wings. Each wing had several sets of smaller tubes on them. It rested on twenty sets of thick wheels. What could this thing have been made for?

I want to say that the Iron Giant got used for good. I wish I could say that nopony ever had to die because I made a mistake. Sometimes even the best ponies fall astray of the line. When I was younger, I asked my father why ponies had to die. He told me I should be asking why they should get to live.

I left the bunker, tried to pile as much of the derelict junk as I could in front of the door, and I locked it up tight. The key I placed somewhere that I’m sure nopony will ever find it, not for a million years if the rads stay high enough.

I know I’m dying now. Hiding the key was too much for my body, radiation finally sinking in. It won’t be temporary like last time either. At nights, when I lay on my cot, bleeding from tears inside of me, I listened to the DJ and I hoped to hear Homage. I didn’t think she ever came on before, but I had hope.

When I was ten, and my father died in combat, I asked the captain what happened after death. He said not to worry about it, good soldiers never died. Well it felt to me like something I should have worried about before it got too late.

There’s a difference between Heroes and Villains, and you’ll find that it’s often a very thin line.