:;Midnight in America

“You have reached your final destination.”

The voice from my GPS sounded smug. I glared at it suspiciously . It felt wrong, everything had felt wrong for a while. I double checked, but there was no more locations in the GPS to go to. That wrong feeling persisted, from the moment I entered Cheyenne mountain, at least. No, before that. Things went to shit with the death...

I turned from that thought, looking around. I was in an abandoned strip mall. It didn't take much to realize why it had been abandoned. The entire thing lay literally in the shadow of an Equestrian Experience Center. I looked past the pile of abandoned cars at the far end of the lot, shivered, and got out.

My reason to be there soon made himself obvious. He was a half starved and shaggy. His beard was a dirty brown, his posture hunched. He ineptly waved a pistol in my general direction. I raised my hands over my head.

“Hey, I'm not here to hurt you.”

He didn't look like he was going to respond, he just kept pointing the gun at me. Then came a rough growl, “Get out of here!”

“I'm not going to hurt you.” I kept moving, slowly, steadily, more side to side than approaching. “I have kids with me. I just want to talk.”

The fear in his posture betrayed him. He was torn between attack and retreat. I kept moving slowly forward, hands in the air. He leveled his gun to my head.

“I DON'T want to TALK!”

“You know who I am? I wont hurt you. Put it down, it'll be okay.” I kept my motions smooth, the accelerometer in my suit fooled into thinking I was standing still. My arms were getting a little sore from being held up so long. He finally put the gun down and went back inside. I followed.

The doors were locked. I rattled them a bit, looking for him in the gloomy interior. Seeing nothing, I yelled.

“Let me in or I'll break the door.”

There was no response for a long moment. I gave the door an experimental smack. Nothing for another long moment.

“Goddammit, alright!” finally came. He approached from behind shelving and turned the lock to open. “What the hell do you want?”

I pushed my way in. “I was hoping you could tell me.” I took a quick look around before staring him down. There was a small living space, more a nest than anything else, just out of sight of the door. It had a number of candles, but no visible electricity.

“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!”

I crossed my arms, and waited. It didn't take long for him to break.

“Fine, just fucking kill me! I know it's what you're here for. That's why she sent you! Just do it already!”

“I'm not going to kill you.” I put as much command into it as I can muster, my voice dripping red. It seems to have no effect on him. “Sit, tell me your story. I'll listen.” He took a deep breath.

The storytellers are a death world race.

He didn't look like he believed me. I motioned him to sit, and crouched by his, well, I assume bed. It was closer to a pile of vaguely comfortable looking trash. He sat, eying me like a wild animal. I stared down at him, and tried to look nonthreatening. He sighed.

“It was a mistake, okay. A stupid, tragic mistake and I didn't mean it.” I tilted my head, just slightly. “I really never wanted to emigrate. I was just talking to her, and it slipped out. ”

“Talking to who? The enemy?”

He looked at me strangely. “Celestia. CelestAI, whatever the fuck you call it.”

“And you said you wanted to emigrate.”

“Fuck no I didn't!” the vehemence was surprising. “not really! I just said that. . . that.” his mood swung again, to the verge of tears. “That one I die, I'd rather go to Equestria instead of just dying. That's it! And she's been trying to kill me ever since.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Huh?”

“How do you know she's trying to kill you?”

“I wasn't at first. It was just accidents, you know? My car broke down on the highway. Shit broke at work, I got laid off. My apartment got mold. Normal shit. I was the unluckiest asshole in the world. Then...”

“Then?”

“Then shit got bad. The HLF had me listed as a sympathizer. The police confused me for a murderer. She offered to help me, if I immigrated. I said no. I had to run. I ended up in a war zone. This was the only place people wouldn't chase me. “ he waved vaguely at a wall. “too close to the emigration center.”

“Doesn't prove anything.”

“No, not until after. After the shelling stopped, and the jets stopped flying. I thought I was safe. I didn't know anyone was left, and I didn't care. For the first time in a long time no one was trying to kill me. Then, she sent someone for me. He had a pony pad. He was riding on a goddamn pastel pony. She told him to kill me if I didn't emigrate.”

I silently processed this. It was plausible. He apparently took my silence as a clue to go on.

“I didn't want to do it, what happened. I just. I just didn't want to die. Everyone has a right to live, to protect themselves. I just did what I had to do. Anyone would. It would hold up in court.” I ignored the judgmental silence, lost in thought, “Okay, maybe I didn't have to put every bullet I had into the guy, but he was going to kill me!”

“And?” I was profoundly disinterested in his ramblings at this point.

“And the pony sucked up his brain, right there in the parking lot. So it's not like he's dead-dead, right?” I declined to answer promptly enough. “Right?!” I shrugged. He was getting wild again.

“I knew it, you're here to emigrate me. Well, I won't! I'd rather die.” he grabbed a knife and backed off to the corner, looking for an opening to bolt past me. I stood. He waved the blade inexpertly, holding it like a steak knife.

“That's not how you hold a knife. You want it in your palm, with your hand under it. Grasp it lightly, use your thumb and forefinger to guide it, not to grip. You want to stab, not slash.”

He ignored my advice, lunging and slashing to open a path past me. I depressed the safety in my glove and swung. A grab and twist put his knife, locked in his hand, into his spleen. He twitched on the floor, barely able to make painful sounds. I think that's more voltage than a taser normally puts out. It didn't matter. I could see his heartbeat under his skin.

I hauled him over my shoulder and headed up to the Equestrian Experience Center.

“ 'scuse me.” It was the big one.

“Yes?”

“We're hungry.” She looked like I was about to kick her.

I tossed her my keys. “Be careful, don't burn yourselves. Okay sweetie?”

She nodded and scampered off as I dragged whatshisface up the hill. The doors opened with a mechanical hiss and a blast of conditioned air.

“Welcome to the Super-duper Lubbock Experience center.” Beat. “!” Worried gasp. “Your friend is hurt!”

I fucking hate toons sometimes. I walked past her to the chairs, and dumped him in one. I ignored the prattling the the background about how great Equestria is and how it would fix him up super-duper quick. I twisted and pulled out the knife. He flailed and screamed, so I shocked him again before he could run. A push on his stomach showed enough of his guts. He was going to take hours to bleed out. I got comfortable.

“ 'scuse me.” It was dark outside. “Can we have another one?”

“Yes, you can have as many as you want. Just stay by the car, it's dangerous in here.” I shooed them back out quickly. Then, to their retreating backs, “And don't run the car!”

I noticed the sounds coming from the chair. Wheezing, mumbling, dying sounds. The enemy was on a screen, comforting him. She eyed me accusingly. His pulse was thready, his face pale. The floor had more blood than should be found in a human body.

“It won't be long now, Tempest. I'll take him as soon as I can.” I couldn't risk responding. I listened as he faded, still begging not to go. Death or emigration was not clear. He stopped breathing. A long moment passed. A motor clicked.

“I have to start now. Otherwise, it will be too late.”

I left her to her grim chirurgery, having gleaned all I could here.

One of the girls was asleep in the backseat, the other stood bored kicking stones by the car. “We're leaving.” The key was on the front seat, I took it. I stopped. The world washed red again, as I tore the lying GPS from its place. A moment later, or an hour, I was throwing it as far as I could, screaming words I could not understand at the pointlessness of it all. I wanted to find it, stomp it into dust, but it was lost to the darkness of night.

Author's Note

Sorry for the long wait, everypony. I'm just not turning out like I used to. I do have the rest of the story done, I just have to write it.