Apocolyptria

   Spade's sleep was interrupted by the bright sunlight that filtered through the gap in the hotel's blinds. Spade placed her forearm over her eyes and gave a moan that was mixed with both soreness and annoyance. She sat up with a grunt, her shaggy mane sticking up all over. It was about eight-thirty, as displayed on the hotel clock. Spade lifted the sheets off of her body and swung her legs over the bed, yawning. She pushed herself off the bed and landed on the carpeted floor. Then immediately regretted it. Her hooves sent a quick jolt of pain through her legs. "What the hay? What did I do last night?" Spade asked outloud as she rubbed her sore legs. She closed her eyes for a moment while she tried to remember.  "Oh yeah..." She murmured as she remembered the events from last night.

Running from Lance left her more sore than usual. Or maybe she was sore from when he tackled her. "I'd better get out of town..." She said, then stood up, ignoring her sore legs. She walked over to the bathroom and started the shower faucet. She smelled like the bottom of a farm pony's horseshoe after he plowed the feilds. It was probably from the garbage can. She stepped in the tub and felt her soreness vanish as the soothing warm water washed over her. She grabbed the hotel's complimentary shampoo and tried squeezing the contents into her shaggy hair. She got as much as she could out of the bottle (which was barely enough for her thick hair) and massaged it around. She rinsed it then moved on to the body wash. It was only on good occasions she used conditioner, which wasn't often because she hardly celebrated anything.

When she was done, she switched off the water and stepped out onto the tile. When she tried to move her other leg, the one planted down slipped and she fell back, her head hitting the tile. "Fuck!" Spade screamed when her head collided with the floor. That hurts. Spade gritted her teeth as she covered her head until the pain dulled to an aching throb. Spade got up, still holding her head, and looked at herself in the mirror. "Keep it together, Spade." She said to herself. Then someone knocked on the door. "Who the hell could that be at frikin' nine o' clock?" Spade grumbled before walking.out of the bathroom. She looked through the peephole at the front door. Sweet Celestia, she had a killer headache. She nearly screamed when she saw two police ponies waiting at the door. One was tapping his hoof impatiently. "Club of Spades, we know you're in there. Come out with your hooves where we can see them, or we will do this the hard way!" The other pony yelled. "Ohshitoshitohshitohshit..." Spade repeated as she backed away from the door.

She couldn't go to jail. Not now. She turned and ran to the chair that was supporting her traveler's pack. She shouldered it on and rushed over to the window. She opened.it and climbed out onto the balcony. "Okay..." Spade whispered shakily. She looked down. Of course she had the room on the second story. Atleast it wasn't the fifth...

Spade rushed back inside and looked for a solution. The police knocked louder. "Club of Spades, we give you ten seconds to open this door or we will be forced to break it down!" The same police pony from before demanded. "Fuck it." Spade said as she grabbed all of the pillows off the bed. She wasn't going to jail today. She rushed back over to the balcony and dropped the pillows. When they landed, Spade heard the police pony begin to count down from five.

"Five!"

Spade shut the window behind her, hoping the police will think she didn't escape from there.

"Four!"

Spade swung over the balcony rails.

"Three"

Spade felt dizzy looking at the fall.

"Two!"

Spade shut her eyes and clenched her teeth. She leaned forward and released her grip. The fall gave her stomach butterflies. She landed on the pillows, which absorbed some of the shock. Spade tried to muffle her cry of pain when she felt the part that wasn't muffled by pillows. Concrete hurts.

"One!"

The police smashed his baton against the door handle, breaking the lock.

"Zero!"

When they entered the room, it was empty, all except a joker playing card that was left on the bed.

***

Spade ran straight in a sprint for about five miles straight. She wanted to be sure the fuzz wouldn't catch up to her. She stopped when her already sore legs gave out and she fell. "Shit!" Spade gasped as she fell. She landed in the hot sand. There was a long distance between herself and the next town over, Ponyville. Of course, the space was occupied by a deathly dry desert. Spade considered going back to town, but remembered she was wanted by police and by a possible rapist that claims he is part of the church.

Spade got up and dusted the dry, hot sand off of her. She spat out a mouthful of sand, already feeling thirsty. She had a bottle of liquor in her backpack, but it wouldn't even come close to quenching her thirst. Besides, getting drunk in an uninhabited desert isn't very smart. Spade shook her mind clear of the stupid idea and started to walk off into the opposite direction of Fillydelphia.

***

"Fucking three hours later and no signs of liwfe." Spade grumbled to herself. Within the three hours of her traveling, she took habit to talking to herself. Probably had something to do with dehydration. She was deathly thirsty. That bottle of liquor seemed to have been calling her name. "Name...." Spade whispered to herself (again) and led her dehydrated mind to another thought. "How did the police know my full name?"

No one should know her full name. And she preferred to keep it like that. She kept any personal information to herself, her birth certificate and social security with her at all times. Club of Spades. Why, another living pony hasn't said it since- "No!" Spade yelled out loud all of a sudden. She didn't want to think of him. He was gone. "Accept it." Spade grumbled, again, to herself.

Spade continued walking deeper into the unforgiving hot desert. That bottle of liquor no longer seemed like a bad idea...

***

The night air was a cool, fresher difference from the hot, sunny days. Spade was exhausted from walking all day. She was laying in the dirt,  in a small cave she found deep in the ground. Who knows what was down there with her. Spade wasn't too worried about that though. She was more worried about how the fuzz knew her name. The only prison that had her records was the farthest place away from Fillydelphia. The Fillydelphian police should have no business knowing about her or her records.

Then, she began to think deeper.

What did the police want this morning? It couldn't have been the issue with Lance the night before. If it was, Spade could have just told the police about how he assaulted Spade and they both would have been screwed.

Spade facehoofed. Of course, she ran away without knowing what they wanted, and now she was a wanted fugitive. "Nice job, you dunce." She told herself, rubbing her sore eyes. She couldn't go back. The only way is forward.

Ponyville was her destination.

Spade smiled, happy she had somewhat of a plan. She rolled over and shut her eyes, still smiling. Ponyville it is.