Heaven's Not Enough

Part II

Chapter 2 – Losing Control

March 4, 2019

Concrete, WA. (Population: 647)

Rob, Andy, and Eliza stood in a grass field just east of town, each sporting a selfbow. Seventy yards away, there stood a hay bale backstop with several small balloons tied to it. They took turns loosing arrows at it.

Andy Viscotti wore his Concrete deputy uniform. When he saw Eliza and Rob gearing up for target practice, he had asked to go along, and they invited him right away. He was technically on duty, but insisted that he had nothing to do. Any calls to the station would redirect to his cell, he said.

Eliza thought he looked a little silly wielding a bow while in uniform. He drew back the string before launching an arrow at the target. It landed in the grass just shy of the backstop.

"Almost," Eliza smiled.

Andy chuckled. "Misjudged the distance. I think I did better with the other fifty pounder."

"No, it's probably my fault," said Eliza.

"Your fault?"

"Yeah. I kept the string on that bow for too long. Looks like the limbs are following the string. Kills the power a bit."

Rob inspected Andy's bow. "Now that you mention it, it does look a little round at rest, more than it used to. Huh."

"Mhm. String follow." Eliza lined up a shot with her bow, and loosed. Her arrow missed the target, but just barely. It landed level, but to the right. "Ah, cripe."

Andy raised an eyebrow. "Did you leave that one strung too long, or are you just getting rusty, Liz?"

She grinned. "Quiet." She drew another arrow from the quiver on her side and lined up a shot. She loosed. "The wood's just aging, that's all."

"Sure."

"You didn't use cedar shafts on these new ones, I hope," said Rob.

For a couple of seconds after loosing, Eliza held her shooting position to watch the arrow fly. The arrow slammed into the target and tagged a balloon. She relaxed and smiled at her father. "Douglas fir. What else would I use?"

"Good girl."

They had spent an hour in the sun shooting at the target from varying distances, using several of Eliza's old abandoned bows. In the final few shots, Eliza stretched mightily to loosen her shooter's muscles. Eliza's draw arm and callused string fingers were pleasantly sore.

"Well, they're mostly good arrows, Liz," Rob said.

"They're okay. Could use some work, but I'm not making them for a living anymore. They're good enough for government work though, right?"

Rob chuckled. "Used to be less of a hobby and more of a job. But I can't imagine you'd sell too many arrows these days."

"Mm. Yeah. Archery's basically only a hobby now anyway." She turned and hung her bow on the rack in the back of her truck's cab. "Well, I guess that's that. You guys want to keep going, or nah?"

"A couple more," Andy said, as he drew back on his bow. Unlike Eliza's bow, Andy's bow wasn't recurved. The bow had a more elegant and consistent draw, uniform in all ways. Eliza watched the wood as it bent. Andy held the string back for a while, long enough for his arm to get tired. "Feeling out the draw weight. Feels like... forty? I could've sworn this one used to be fifty. Either I got stronger doing nothing, or you really did leave it strung for a while, Liz." Andy shot. The arrow flew.

"Yeah, well. Sorry. It fell behind the workbench and I didn't find it before I moved out."

Still, the arrow landed well enough, bursting one of the balloons at the center of the haybale.

"Bullseye!" Rob cheered.

Eliza whistled. "Nice shot, Andy. Maybe forty suits you better, flab biscuit!"

"Hey now, I'm fit! Mostly.” Andy shot another arrow, which hit the backstop again. He had it zeroed in. "Alright, I'm gonna quit while I'm ahead." He handed his bow to Rob, then started picking up their gear. "This was a good idea, Liz."

"Wasn't it though? Better than sitting bored at the station all day, right?"

Andy laughed, and started sorting through their equipment in the grass. "Yeah."

Rob and Eliza started towards the target backstop together.

"When do you go back to work?" Rob asked. "Tomorrow?"

"Nope, next. Wednesday," Eliza answered.

"Oh, great. You're staying tonight, I hope?"

She smiled. "I can, Dad. I'd like to. Is Uncle Ralph coming over for dinner?"

"He could, I'm sure. Your mother's off early today too, she could help us cook."

They both reached the backstop together and started pulling arrows out of it, then stowed them in their quivers. The balloon pieces went in their pockets, and they flipped the haybale down. Each of them grabbed an end and they carried it to the truck.

"I miss Uncle Ralph," Eliza said. "It's been what, a few months now?"

"I don't think Ralph wants to be so reclusive, Liz. He's working a lot more, though. I think... I think after Tom left, it brought back some bad memories for him. Gale leaving really shook him up, y'know? He didn't have much going for himself to begin with, just his job. He loves you kids."

Eliza sighed. "Yeah." She recalled that night. New Years Eve was pretty emotionally difficult for the whole family. Eliza tried one final time to get Tom to come home and failed as she had expected. It was a simple, shallow conversation, devoid of tears or emotion. Eliza simply reminded him that he was hurting everyone by going. It hurt to say it like that, but it was the simple truth.

By then, she had long accepted the inevitability that he would upload. There was no deterring him. Experience with Gale had told her so.

At work the morning after, Eliza sat through a briefing by an agent from Department of Homeland Security. They asked her department to be on heightened alert for survivalists and preppers building camps in the woods. Another warden, a friend of Mike's from the academy, had been shot dead by a poacher in Snohomish County. Eliza thought the DHS should've minded their own damned business. The Feds couldn't possibly have known what her department was going through, and her team knew the score well enough already without them poking their noses into state affairs. As far as Eliza could tell, DHS sure as shit didn't have a great track record with protecting their nation from threats, foreign or domestic. Especially not this.

Rob and Eliza loaded the bale up into the truck before getting in, and they passed their quivers to Andy in the back seat. Eliza hopped into the driver's seat. A short drive later, they were back in Concrete. Eliza looked again at the few Forclosure – For Sale signs in front of homes in her father's neighborhood.

Andy caught her staring at one. "A shame, isn't it? A lot of people just left their things."

She shrugged. "Can't take it with them, I guess."

"Nope," Rob said. "The church got a lot of clothes donations after January. We tried to donate it to some churches and shelters out west, but uh, they said they didn't need it. Had enough clothes. The homeless are disappearing, and quick."

Eliza sighed. "Not really a surprise. Celestia once told me that would happen, believe it or not." She turned the truck into her dad's driveway. "Any break-ins?"

"On the homes? A few," Andy admitted. "I'm looking into it, but there's no one left to press charges when it happens. Most I can do is just house calls, door to door checks."

"Just you? No one else?"

"Yeah, I'm the only one left. Jacob quit, just disappeared outright. Might've uploaded. Terry uploaded for sure."

Eliza shook her head as she put the truck in park and turned the engine off. "Terry? Jesus, Andy. That's happening in every department. And you know, they uh... the state's laying off most of the enforcement division of my department. I got tapped. All my unit did."

"What?" Rob glanced over quickly. "You serious?"

Andy frowned. "No way. That's stupid, why would they do that? When?"

She leaned back. "First of April. And no April Fools, it's happening. They don't see much use for us anymore. Even with all our raids recently, we're spinning our wheels and going nowhere with this poacher problem. Almost everything worth protecting is dead and gone now. Maybe the fish populations are a little better than expected, but the hatchery budget got pulled a long time ago. We've completely failed. The state is giving up on conservation."

Rob grunted. "And they think that's going to make things better? If they give up, we'll be lucky if we'll ever see another buck again!"

Eliza flashed him a forlorn look. "Dad, I'm sure deer are already extinct in the wild."

Rob threw his leather shooting glove up on the dashboard. "Darn it. Well that's just great. Just great." He stewed for another moment, then looked at his daughter. "I'm sorry, Liz. Where'll you go now?"

She shrugged. "Uh... I don't know. Andy, think the mayor'll hire me?"

"You kidding, Liz? With you on the team, he'd put it in the Herald. And with your experience, he'd probably pay you twice he pays me."

Normally, she would have laughed, but she wasn't in a laughing mood. "Look, be honest with me. Both of you. How many uploaded here at home?"

Rob sighed. "We aren't entirely sure. A few dozen people at first, maybe. Dan and Mary went after their son did in January. Maybe fifty or sixty more after them. Celestia doesn't have to report numbers."

"I need to do another headcount," Andy said glumly. "Not really seeing the point of it anymore though."

They decided to move from the truck. They collected the bows and arrows, entered through the garage, dropped off the weapons, and made their way to the living room. Eliza stretched again and flexed her sore arm. Rob went to the kitchen.

"You kids want drinks?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "Anything, really."

"Lemonade, then," Rob answered. "Hard lemonade."

She rolled her eyes and sprawled out on the couch. "It's still strange when you actually offer me alcohol."

"Why's that?"

"Because up until the day I turned 21, my soul was in perpetual jeopardy."

Andy and Rob chuckled weakly at that, then Andy sat in silence with Eliza as Rob went to the kitchen. Eliza leaned back into the couch and tried to get comfortable. She considered turning on the TV, but discarded that idea as quickly as it sprung up. It was her day off, and the last thing she needed was more exposure to the news and pony-related TV ads.

Andy reached for the remote though. Eliza wasn't going to tell him not to. He turned the TV on, and switched it to a sports game. She tried to watch, but quickly grew restless. Memories of her brother floated to the fore of her mind again, his face down on the couch as he cried.

In her several visits back to her childhood home since he left, Eliza had been trying to work up the courage to go inside his room. She told herself it would bring her closure, but a tiny, traitorous part of her wanted to believe Tom was still alive in there. Celestia didn't give the bodies back, after all. Tom never had a proper burial... just a service, an empty grave, and a gravestone beside Gale's, up the road. It was the best they could do.

She decided to try again. She stood and made for the hall.

"You okay?" Andy asked, with a glance of concern.

She nodded. "Yeah. Just... need to check on... something. I'll be back in a few."

"Okay," he said softly, concern in his voice.

She turned down the hall and paused in front of her brother's room. She stopped to consider entering for a moment, as she always did, not really sure if she would like the answers to the questions she had. The temptation to try and enter was always overshadowed by her fear of not knowing if she might react poorly. Slowly, Eliza reached out to the doorknob. To her own surprise, she finally twisted the knob. She let go and the door slowly panned open.

The room was exactly the same as it was when she last saw it, and it was clear that her parents hardly ever came into the room anymore either. The shelves were bare and dusty, but Eliza could remember the pony toys and books they held several years prior. The walls were bare too, where there were once pony posters. By the end, Tom practically lived outside of the house with his head in his ponypad. After Gale left, he would often sneak off and play someplace quiet around town.

Their parents never did find that last contraband ponypad. They almost turned the house inside out in their search.

At some point, room decorations became extraneous to an addicted ponypad user. The only things in Tom's room of aesthetic note were a dozen pasted glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and a single crescent moon. They were a leftover from Tom's younger years but remained throughout. Tom shared Eliza's affinity for the Princess of the Night. Even after Gale uploaded, Eliza kindly did not point out that connection to her parents, and so Tom was allowed to keep them.

She felt so stupid.

His computer was still under the desk in the corner. At some point, her parents must have unplugged it from the wall. The twin bed mattress was slightly askew, Eliza noticed. It gave her a bittersweet smile to see that. Tom always launched himself off the bed when he got up, especially when she told him that dinner was ready. He'd say "be right back" to his friends in Equestria, then he'd leap up with such force that the mattress almost came with him.

With a burst of paranoia, she wondered if there might be another reason the bed was askew. She grasped the mattress and lifted it with an arm, then peered beneath. No ponypad to be found. She lowered the mattress back down and swept the covers with her palm, then the pillow. Nothing. Eliza sighed. She knew he wouldn't hide it in his bed. He was much too smart for that and her parents would have checked those places besides. Perhaps Tom took it with him when he left.

A hard covered arithmetic schoolbook sat on the nightstand. There was a sheet of lined paper nestled between its pages.

Eliza sat on the bed in silence and opened the textbook. She looked over her brother's handwriting on the page. She studied his math problems for a while. Of course, his answers were too perfect. She placed the textbook back down on the bed as gingerly and respectfully as her father might treat a well used Bible.

She laid back, rested her head on Tom's pillow, and stared at the stars and moon on the ceiling. She still sometimes entertained the sick fantasy of uploading. It brought her some revulsion; she didn't consider herself suicidal, but those intrusive thoughts haunted her. Countless what-ifs bounced in her skull. She looked at the stars, then the moon. She missed Luna, too. Her friends. Her timberwolf Grand. The Everfree night. The pulse of her soul, beating in tune with nature in that vibrant dimension. The sense of belonging that resonated with her. It was a better world than hers, now. More complete than hers. Better by design.

Her thoughts drifted back to that night when she spoke with Celestia, beneath the stars. It was a frequent memory, and a useful one. Eliza found the anger she was looking for. If only Eliza had been stronger with Gale that evening, maybe her brother and sister would both still be with them.

She shook the idea of uploading from her mind. "Apex," she muttered under her breath. "Apex is dead."

Her coworkers needed her. So did her parents. Eliza always fought hard to not let the pain of her loss show at work, and the only person she trusted enough to be candid with in the department was Mike... and only just barely. She prayed her resolve would stay intact.

She sat up and went to her brother's computer. Her hand fumbled around under the desk as she sought the power cable behind it. She plugged it into the power supply by touch, then searched for the power button on top of the PC. Just then, the top of her hand bumped unexpectedly against something taped to the underside of the desk, behind the crook of its front.

Her brow knitted, and she frowned. It was rectangular, with a rounded edge. Was it a ponypad? She tempered herself in preparation as she clutched the rounded corner and yanked it level with her face, ready to challenge or destroy whatever she saw, ready to throw the object with force.

Instead, she saw an old, small composition journal in her hand. On the title space, in Tom's sloppy, lovable handwriting, was the word Equestria. She had never seen the journal before. Her anger evaporated, and all that was left was a bittersweet, heartbroken sadness. Eliza stepped backward, and she felt her legs bump against the bed. She sat and opened the journal. Without considering any potential consequences, she began to read.

January 20 2014

Mom took my ponypad but dad gave it back again, I need to hide it so mom cant hide it again then but I can write what I do in Equestria and read it when I'm alone later if mom hides it

Eliza held her breath for a moment, swallowed dryly, then flipped through to a random page.

July 4 2014

Liz is bringing me to sedro tonight to watch fireworks today. I cant wait!!!

The fireworks were really cool, wow! After bedtime I logged into my ponypad and everyone watched more fireworks with me. It was just like the ones I saw in Sedro but they went on forever!!!!! princess Luna had to tell me to go to bed and turned the game off after saying I need to sleep and dream like every pony else. I kept playing anyway then Liz came in and says Luna told her I was still up. PRINCESS LUNA IS A TATTLER!!! DO NOT FORGET!!!

Eliza remembered that night with a wistful smile. Tom always got excited about fireworks. She skimmed the rest of the passage, which described something about East Circle trying to fly in the fireworks like a "silly filly." Eliza flipped to the middle of the book, and kept reading.

June 13 2015

Dad was shopping with mom and Liz was at school, so I had some time alone. I flew to Canterlot today just because I wanted to sit on a tower alone for a while and watch the town. It was so quiet up there but I could see the ponies down below talking and shopping. The wind almost blew me down a few times when it got too strong. It was day, but Princess Luna was awake and waved me down to her balcony.

I didnt have a new dream written down for her but I told her about the dream I had with the airplane last night. I never flew on one before, but the dream was so real. I was over the ocean and I could see an island out the window, and talked to a man next to me who was a doctor. He said he survived a shipwreck using a hot air balloon on the deck. Then suddenly the plane bumped hard and the wing was gone. The plane spun around and around, everyone yelled. I asked the doctor if he had a hot air balloon still. Then I woke up.

Princess Luna said that the dream was about escaping. The island was where I was trying to get away to, and the plane crash was like me being afraid of being happy if I got there. She said that I should try to dream happier dreams. I don't know how I dream about something I want to dream about, but I told her I would try.

June 14 2015

Liz was watching me for dad when he went to church for bible study stuff. I wanted her to play too but shes studying work stuff. I was with Red and East and Pinecone today, so we went to the Saddle Arayba desert. We all flew except Pinecone, since he's a unicorn and hired a pegasus taxi. We told him he was being strange because we could have pulled him ourselves but he wanted to pay somepony to do it. To make them happy and have more ponies to talk to. He could have paid me, silly colt!

Red knocked down a nice vase with his wings because he was showing off in the hotel doorway. The hotel owner was not too mad though, and didnt let us pay him for it, which was cool of him. The pool was cool, and East said the water felt good because of how hot it was. That's a little strange because how would she know how hot it is on the game? I asked her. She said it just felt hot outside and looked at me funny.

I asked if she was a real person and she got real mad at me. I feel bad now, I said sorry but now she isn't talking to me. Pinecone said I should leave her alone today. I hope she doesn't stay angry at me.

June 15 2015

I still feel so bad and East won't talk to me. It was hard to sleep. I want East to like me, I'm so mad at myself for asking her if she's real. I wish I could take it back. I asked Liz what I should do if a girl is mad at me. She's a girl so she would know. She laughed and asked if I said sorry. I did, duh. Liz said I should prove I'm sorry instead, so I guess I'll give East a gift and a apology card? I guess I could. I'll try, I can get some at the market in the city.

Okay that worked! East hugged me! She hugged me! We went for a walk together and she said she was angry, because I said she wasn't real. I promised I wouldn't say that again. She said she was from Japan and moved to Equestria so I mean it was a stupid thing to say I think. There's no way she could be fake, she's just too nice and real.

Eliza frowned. She skipped far forward this time, and she landed somewhere in the last ten pages. She skimmed back a ways and sought out her own birthday.

August 8, 2016.

I got Liz a My Little Pony toy today for her birthday. It's a Rainbow Dash toy. Liz thanked me and said it was really cool. But she said she didn't have a lot of time to play still, since she's going to school to be a cop. Which is not really as cool as hanging out with her little bro in Equestria. Come on, Liz! Get cool!

I still think she looks like a big silly gray dog, wearing a necklace with that green glowy rock. It's a little funny. I never wondered what her name means before today, so I asked Princess Luna what Apex means. She just laughed and said I should look it up in a dictionary! She knew the answer, I think she was just teasing me! I did look it up though and it's like a mountaintop.

Princess Luna used it in a sentence and it made sense. Like the peak. Ok so she's like a snowy mountaintop? Luna said it had something to do with wolfs but I didnt know what she meant.

A little doodle of a mountain sat at the bottom of the page. Eliza looked at the drawings all over the next few pages. It looked like Tom had tried to draw Apex hugging Blue Sky, among a few drawings of ponies Eliza didn't recognize.

It should have been endearing. She felt vacant and empty now.

Apex is dead. She's dead.

She looked at the last page.

August 21, 2016.

Gale made it to Germany today. Liz took my ponypad and she smashed it in front of mom and dad and everyone—

"Liz?"

She looked up. Andy stood in the doorway. Eliza's eyes unfocused for a few seconds and she looked past him.

"Are you... alright?" he asked.

For a moment, Eliza sat stunned, unable to answer. She lost her voice when she tried to speak, and tried again. It came out quietly."Yeah, Andy. I just... I—I'm going through Tom's old things, and..." She trailed off.

"I know," he whispered. "I felt the same, when I went through Gale's things." He moved to sit beside Eliza. He reached for her shoulder. "Your mom let me—"

"Don't," she said, shying away. "Please." She clutched the journal to her chest and lowered her gaze, afraid to meet his eyes.

He backed away. "Okay," he said. He sat down beside her though. "Hey... Liz?"

"Yes?"

He gulped. "You know, um... my parents, uh. They..."

After he didn't continue, Eliza groaned in despair. "When?"

"A few weeks ago. My grandparents went too, a while back. We went through their stuff, too. It..."

She cringed, and her eyes shut tight. "It didn't help, did it?" she mewled. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and tried not to cry.

"No... it made it worse. And no matter how much I pretend it'll be okay someday..."

They sat together quietly. He wrapped an arm around her, and this time she didn't pull away. She realized she was holding her breath. She exhaled, and grasped her temples with a hand. She stared at the journal below, but her eyes glazed over, and the page became wet with drops. She wasn't able to read it anymore.

"It won't be," she muttered under her breath. Eliza gritted her teeth and shuddered. "Andy... I'd kill her if I could."

She felt Andy nod in understanding. He knew she meant Celestia. Eliza didn't need to provide any explanation to him because he knew the score as well as she did. She felt him shudder in pain very much like hers. Leaning against him, she felt less alone. She turned her head against his chest. He held her close, and buried his nose in her hair as they cried together. And at once, she knew he understood exactly how she felt. Andy understood her fear better than anyone, because he had no one left.

That was when she decided he was family, too.

Two days later.
March 6, 2019.
Mt. Vernon, WA.

"My daughter turned fifteen today! This is her birthday fishing trip! This is bullshit!"

A teen girl and her mother shouted at Eliza past Mike. Eliza rolled her eyes when the mother couldn't see it, dropping two fish into a cooler in the bed of her work truck. She went to retrieve the fishing poles. All of it was illegal contraband now.

"Ma'am, look at me, not her," Mike said to the older woman. "She's not talking to you."

"Oh, go to hell." The bushy-haired mother flailed her arms. "Do you people think you're helping anyone here? She's just a little girl and it's just a few fish. Heartless bastards," she muttered.

Mike frowned. "You're lucky you're not being arrested. Fishing is a little more serious now than you realize. The populations are bone dry. Barely any left. We don't have to stop at confiscation, ma'am, and that's a kindness. That's the law now, that's just how it is. You can't fish the freshwater, that's final."

The woman was furious. She looked right at Eliza as she dropped the fishing poles in the back of her truck. "Dropped out of the police academy, eh, little girl? Too weak to hack it with the real cops?"

Eliza said nothing, because reacting was not productive and the woman's objective was to force an unprofessional reaction. But Eliza's jaw clenched.

Mike stood between Eliza and the mother. He had decided to react on her behalf. "We are real police, ma'am. It sounds to me like you want me to prove it." He looked down at the teen, then back at her mother. "Ma'am, give me your ID. Douglas, let's write a cite."

Eliza took out her flipbook.

The woman threw up her arms, defeated. "Fine. We're going home. Tina, get your things."

"Stop," Mike said, sounding bewildered as he held up his hand. "It's a little late for you to walk now, really? I gave you a chance to do this peacefully with a warning, but you decided to push it. That's my partner you're goading, and I don't appreciate it."

"You're such an asshole," the teen snapped. Neither officer said a word.

The mother jabbed her driver license toward Mike. He took it, and handed it to Eliza. She silently wrote the ticket, then presented it the woman. "Date's listed there," Eliza said. "Sign here. Not an admission of guilt, promise to appear." The woman snatched Eliza's pen, glared at her, and signed. Eliza gave her the stub, and the woman thrust the pen back into her hands.

Mike smiled sympathetically at Eliza, and the two of them locked step back to their vehicle.

"So much for the nice approach," Eliza groaned. "I don't know why I even try anymore. It's almost like everyone's forgotten how to be nice."

Mike chuckled. "Ah, well. You've got me. And hey, at least she's not shooting squirrels off power lines." He opened the driver side door.

"Ugh. Don't remind me about that guy."

Safely back inside, they threw on their seat belts. Mike held up his notepad and wiggled it in the space between them. "I got her plate number for the report."

Mike passed Eliza his notepad as she opened the report program on their laptop.

"Thanks, Mike."

"No problem. Lunch?"

Eliza shrugged. "Eh. Not really hungry, but I'll call it in." She keyed her lapel mic. "Whiskey 4, clear last call. Requesting 10-7."

"Copy; Whiskey 4, go for 10-7."

Mike grinned. "There we go, Douglas. Lunch time."

They drove around the corner and posted up on a roadside. Mike tore into his bagged lunch and started peeling a tangerine. "Y'know, if you're hungry," he joked, "we've got some fish in the back."

She smirked. "Eating evidence? Pff. Did you hear that back there, Mike? That little girl called you an asshole. She's got you figured out."

"Yeah, well. Her mom should've known better."

"Yeah, she was mouthy too," Eliza growled. The girl couldn't know any better. The mother, though...

Well, Eliza understood her confusion, even if Mike hadn't. Things had changed fast. No one wanted to let go of their roots. She knew that all too well.

Mike gave her a glance. "Well, you want to swing on by after lunch and see if their truck is still there? I figure half an hour is enough time to pack up their gear and split."

Eliza yawned, stretching her legs out in the foot well. "Nah. We already got their poles, I don't think they're sticking around. At least looking into these tip line calls is a good change of pace from serving warrants. Been a lot of those lately."

"Damn shame that our layoffs are soon."

"Yeah," she grumbled. "I feel like we were actually making some progress on catching these boneheads. We're not bringing deer back, but... oh, hey, speaking of. Forensics got a tip on those brothers who were poaching, and that's what this last raid was about."

"Yeah?" Mike looked at her.

Eliza nodded. "We hit up their home a week ago, on your off day. They weren't there, but we got their trove. Small mountain of pelts stacked up in a big shed. I don't remember how many exactly, but it was in the hundreds. Almost a thousand."

Mike whistled. "Hot damn. Must've had them for a while."

"I've never seen anything like it, but yeah. Some deer and elk, mostly rabbits and foxes. I'm surprised they didn't sell them. Maybe they couldn't find a buyer?"

"Well that doesn't make sense."

"Some of the pelts looked years old, but there were a few recent ones. Forensics checked their home PCs, found nothing. There was an old laptop in their truck though. I'm talking really old, like from 2000. That's where the real data trove came from. Forensics found some notes mixed in with the pelts, we found a few URLs, and some maps. But hey, you'll love this."

"What's that?"

"You remember that protection run we did back in December? With that U-Dub scientist, Doctor Marvin?"

"Yeah?"

"The suspects had a map of that region," she continued. "I remembered that exact spot where the deer died. It was circled on their map too, along with a written timestamp. I pulled my December notes, and the date on the map correlates with the date the deer stopped moving on GPS."

"So, they killed that deer?" Mike asked, the corner of his mouth tweaking in confusion, trying not to smile. "Then wrote down the time and place of their poach? That doesn't sound very smart, Eliza."

"No one said they had to be smart," Eliza said casually, smiling at him. "We found a list of similar evidence. Some kills we knew about, but most we didn't. They kept a full record of everything on that laptop. Even... tagged their pelts with timestamps, dates, everything. It's like they were building a full case against themselves. So you're right, they'd have to be really stupid."

"How'd we get probable cause on the warrant?"

"Strangest thing. A tip. A photo of them in the woods dressing a kill, from about a hundred yards away. Also came with a GPS coordinate and scans of their driver licenses, for Christ's sake. And the coordinate? Corresponded with a location in a national park. Matched the photo."

"The hell?" Mike scoffed outright. "That's oddly specific. Sounds like they pissed off the wrong hombre."

"They probably crossed someone," Eliza agreed, "and the informant wanted to get even." She paused, and sighed. "It's up to county detectives now. But the most confusing bit about this is that they weren't selling the pelts. They were just stacking them up. Why not sell them?"

"Buyer skipped out? Heck, maybe they are the buyers."

Eliza smirked. "That would be quite the story. Real rough and tumble rednecks, and they don't have the money for it. Sarge thinks they may have been the middlemen for the buyer or something."

"Uhh... or they joined the ranks of those crazy preppers down south. Olympia thinks they're turning profit on the pelts to fund construction projects."

"That... huh, I hadn't thought of that," she said, as she rubbed her neck. "I figure the brothers might've uploaded too. All of that's possible though, I don't know. Like I said, county investigators will end up going through all of it. But yeah, that was... the motherlode of all raids, Mike. I just wish we could've caught them at home. Finding the bastards will be tough if they've gone to ground." She scowled.

"Hey Douglas, what's with the sour look?" Mike handed her two slices of a tangerine.

She took the sour fruit, noticed she was scowling, and started chuckling. "Dad jokes? Really?" She ate one of the slices.

"We'll get 'em all in time, Eliza. It's not like the county sheriffs are just going to let all our cases go dead when we shut down. Maybe you could join 'em, carry it on. Hey, speaking of which. Guess what?"

"Hm?" Eliza didn't look up from the laptop as she typed and chewed.

Mike's voice dropped low. "Snohomish County Sheriffs caught the guy who shot Dennis."

Eliza turned to meet his gaze. "Wait, really?" She could see a grim, sad anger in his eyes.

"Yep. The asshole was living off the grid by himself real deep in the woods. One of their recon planes saw a campfire. SWAT went out that night and raided the camp, took him in the dark." Mike's tone turned sarcastic. "You want to know the best part?"

Eliza ate the second tangerine slice. Her frown returned. "Don't tell me. He pled out for an upload."

"Nope. The best part is, he didn't plead out. Demanded a different deal. Didn't want the upload pardon, even though we had an ironclad case; he said he'd rather go to prison, life term."

She returned to her report with a sigh. "The age we live in, where common sense is noble."

Twenty-five minutes later, Mike checked his watch. "Alright, call it. Back into the grinder. Hey, maybe we'll luck out and get some calls closer to the station!"

Eliza was wrapping up a second report. "Five more hours in the shift, Mike. We could get a call to someone skinning a tiger on our station's doorstep, wouldn't make a difference."

Mike laughed as he started the engine. "Heh. Glass half empty with you, Douglas. All the time."

She grinned, raising her mic. "Station; Whiskey 4, we're 10-8." Almost immediately, her radio crackled and she heard a response, but not what she was expecting.

"Attention all units, attention all units. We have an 11-99, shots fired. Officer down on I-5 South, at Burlington. State Patrol in pursuit, southbound on I-5. Vehicle description: dark green four door sedan, model unknown. Suspect is armed and dangerous, description: caucasian male, long brown hair, wearing blue shirt, blue jeans, green ballcap. All available units, abandon calls if safe, respond immediately."

Their dispatcher sounded rattled. Eliza shot a look at Mike. He was wide eyed, staring at her.

Eliza filled with contempt for the suspect before the description was even finished. "That's just up the hill from here, let's go get him!"

"I hear you." Mike threw the truck into drive and floored the accelerator. Dirt kicked up behind them as they launched forward. Eliza tagged on the lights and sirens, Code 3. They powered eastbound along the river on the road leading under the highway bridge. Mike took the truck offroad to climb the grass hill up to the I-5 freeway. At the top of the hill, they drove around the divider, and their sudden appearance caused almost all of the traffic on the highway to suddenly slow to a crawl.

All but one vehicle.

Almost like magic, they crested the hill the moment the suspect's vehicle blasted past them. It was a blur. Eliza caught a glimpse of the man as he sped southbound. She guessed he was going at least ninety miles an hour. Eliza spared a glance north, and she could see the red-and-blue strobe of the highway patrol vehicles almost a mile out.

"That's the guy," Eliza said frantically. "You're clear left, go, go!"

"You sure?" He swept his head left.

"Yes, go!" She grabbed her mic. "Whiskey 4, suspect vehicle crossing River Bridge at Mount Vernon, southbound I-5. We are in pursuit."

Mike floored it again, and their siren blared as they mounted the road. Eliza drew her sidearm.

"Whiskey 4, copy. Units are converging. Switch to county-band. Air unit ETA, two mikes."

Eliza did as ordered with the radio, and rolled down her window as Mike sped to catch up with the suspect. She checked her sidearm's breech briefly to make sure it was in working order, and looked down to inspect the mag pouches on her vest. As she looked up, she flinched; their truck barely missed striking a big rig on their right. "Jesus Christ, Mike!" She didn't hear his response over the wind. "Get us closer. Closer! Pit him!"

They gained on the vehicle, but slowly. The sedan was lighter and could weave in and out of traffic better than their truck could. The suspect didn't need to fear a rollover like they did. To Mike's credit, they matched pace, but the suspect vehicle wasn't slowing down. It was a full minute before the sedan pulled to the right near an off ramp.

Eliza looked at Mike briefly to make sure he saw. "He's pulling off," she called.

"I see!"

They turned. The sedan took the off ramp. The right side of the off ramp had a dropoff into a parking lot, and the suspect drove dangerously close to it along the guardrail, almost daring the police to follow.

"Whiskey 4," Eliza said into her radio. "Suspect pulling off I-5 to Kinkaid Street. Westbound turnoff towards Mount Vernon downtown."

Mike went wide left around the vehicles.

"Where are you going?" She asked, bewildered at the suspect. Her eyes stayed locked on the target vehicle.

"Around the traffic. Through the intersection."

"No, I mean... why is he going toward downtown?" she asked. "What the hell? Does he want to get caught?"

"Douglas, this might get messy. He's probably still armed, there's lots of people there." The truck turned around the intersection, its siren cautioning everyone to stop.

A delivery driver panicked at the sirens and stopped his flower van in the middle of the intersection. They were blocked in between cars. Eliza tapped the loudspeaker. "Clear the road! Clear the road! Move, now!" The van moved. Mike floored the accelerator and started after the suspect vehicle.

By then, Eliza had lost sight of the sedan, her view obstructed by another car. "Where'd he go?"

But Mike had eyes on it. "I see him further down, couple intersections up." Radio traffic from another pursuit car ahead parroted Mike's observation. Mike revved the engine and followed. Three squad cars rolled up and matched Mike's truck for speed, and they all wheeled around the corner, one after the other.

Eliza saw the suspect's sedan smashed around a pole on the right side of the road. It had sideswiped a parked vehicle, mounted the curb, and crashed right in the middle of downtown.

Eliza saw a woman laid out in the street beside the smashed suspect vehicle. She was far off, but she could tell the woman was conscious and in agony. Eliza felt a cold anger fill her heart as she saw the bone from her leg and blood pooling under the woman's pretty blue dress. "He ran her down!" Eliza looked at the building, saw what it was, and swore. "What the f—? No, no!"

It was an Equestria Experience Center.

Something clicked in her mind.

"Douglas?"

"He's getting away!" she screamed. "Go faster!"

Mike pulled the truck up to the building just as the suspect stumbled out of his car and dropped his cell phone to the sidewalk. Eliza couldn't immediately see any weapon on him. He was injured, limping toward the clinic. Eliza leapt from her truck and readied her sidearm. She ran toward the man as he jogged away from her and frantically scrambled toward the front door of the clinic.

"Stop!" She shouted at the man. "She'll kill you, you idiot!"

He ignored her. Eliza advanced on him as fast as she could. She raised her gun with both hands, lining up a point-fire shot just in case he drew on her. The man passed through the doorway. Just then, Eliza could see a family inside, a woman with children. She averted her aim an inch. They all recoiled away from the man when they saw Eliza... then, the glass door slid shut before Eliza reached it.

"No! NO!" She raised her gun low again, ready to fire on the bottom half of the glass to break through it, but a heavy metal shutter slammed down to obstruct her shot, locking the suspect inside.

Inside. Potentially armed, with all those poor people.

Eliza rammed her shoulder painfully into the shutter, halting all of her running momentum. She screamed with rage. "God damn it!" She kicked the door several times with all her might, but all she did was painfully twist her booted ankle and cause rattle. Desperately, she tried to appeal to the suspect one last time. "Don't listen to her! Not a word of it!" She panted, looking up. There was a camera above the door, which she began to yell at, knowing her lips could be read. "Celestia, you open this door right now! He's got a gun, there are kids inside! He'll take hostages!"

Through it all, Eliza could hear that woman screaming, piercing through the sound of the sirens. A cold hatred flooded her.

It was like reasoning with a brick wall, but she had to try. She could hear Mike calling out to her, but she couldn't tell what he was saying. He grabbed her from behind, and he shouted at her. "Hey!" She ignored him, even as he tried in vain to pull her away from the door. "Hey, stop!" She pushed him away with her left hand, and he probably wasn't expecting her archer's strength, because it almost knocked him off his feet.

She continued shouting and pounding at the door, even as she fought to break free of Mike. "This is all your fault, you bitch! That woman's blood is on your hands! Mike, let me—let go, Mike! Now!" She rounded on him. "We need to find another way in!"

He shouted at her. "No! You're done, get back! We aren't SWAT!"

"Fuck SWAT!" She turned back to the door as police swept around the building. The other officers started to clear and block the other exits. The air patrol arrived, and the helicopter's noise began to cut into everything, a droning buzz from on high.

A speaker clicked from behind a life-sized plastic Rainbow Dash figure beside the door. Celestia's cool, calm voice sounded. "Officers, your suspect has surrendered his weapon at my request, and he has not harmed anyone inside. He has requested amnesty within Equestria and he wishes to emigrate. He is currently beginning the emigration process. Per the PON-E Act, your suspect is no longer within your jurisdiction. You may enter and conduct a search of the lobby and employee zones, but only after his emigration is complete. If you wish to search the lobby beforehand, you will need a warrant."

"Bullshit," Eliza barked. "That's bullshit! Suspect's inside, there are people at risk! Exigence, we don't need a warrant! You keep tearing our families apart! You stupid bitch!" Eliza slammed her injured foot into the blue pony several times, denting it, and new sparks of pain shot up her leg. "I fucking hate you!"

Mike yanked her shoulder, his voice suddenly desperate. "Stand down! Please!"

"No!" Eliza began to hyperventilate, her face flushed with rage as she tried to shove her partner off again, pointing lividly down the street. "He ran that woman over! Shot a cop! Has hostages!" She swept her eyes about at all the officers, noticing none of them trying to force entry. "Are you all insane?" Another officer she didn't know twisted her arm from behind and brought it back and up, into a submission hold. She snarled. In the same instant, Mike grabbed her gun from her, then helped the other officer drag Eliza away from the front door. She brought her knees to her chest in a futile attempt to break the hold and shouted at the building in rage. They dragged her out of sight between two police SUVs, even as she continued to struggle.

Mike pressed Eliza back against the door of one of the SUVs, and yelled at her, his voice tinged with desperation. "The hell's gotten into you? It's done, Eliza. Done! Once he's agreed to upload, once he's gotten inside, there is nothing we can do! It's the law!" He raised a finger to her face when she began to speak. "Shut the hell up and listen to me! Someone was filming you, Eliza! Close enough to hear what you were saying. They got the whole thing on camera!" His eyes were wide at her.

She blinked, stopped fighting, and all of the color drained from her face in an instant. She suddenly felt very cold, weak, and vulnerable. "Wh-what?"

"A couple of bystanders up the street. Think: A game warden, losing her shit at an upload center? You better pray they don't upload those videos, Eliza!"

"What?" She repeated dumbly, and she no longer resisted. Her anger drained, rapidly replaced by fear. She suddenly realized just how she was acting. She could feel her head go light, fear of exposure wracking her.

"I'm sorry," Mike said. "All we can do now is damage control, I'm calling Sarge. But go back to the truck, now. I'll sort this, but you need to go now."

Eliza slumped against the patrol vehicle behind her, clutching her hair with both hands, eyes wide. She panicked. She could suddenly see and hear everything with extreme detail, a side effect of the adrenaline. "Oh God. Oh God."

Mike thanked the other officer, then turned back to Eliza and grabbed her by the shoulder. He shook her to get her attention, speaking quietly. "Do not approach the crime scene. Don't talk to anyone. Don't call anyone. Not even Sarge. Get back in our truck, and keep your mouth shut. And cross your fingers, Douglas. This is going to get bad before it gets better. But right now, anything you do will make it worse."

She tried to gather her thoughts, but her mind was scattered like dust. She couldn't focus.

Mike watched her for a few moments, and then released her, his voice becoming soft. "Look. You're gonna be okay, Eliza. Horace will take care of this. Just breathe. Deep breaths, come on. It works." Eliza inhaled deeply, and exhaled. "Good, good, a few more times. You'll be okay. Just relax." She nodded at him, and he continued. "I'm... I'm gonna try to talk to those folks down, before they leave. But you need to get back to the truck. Please."

Eliza couldn't help but let Mike drive for her, as emotionally spun as she was, and he was offering. She nodded weakly at him, then hobbled around the car, stunned and in shock. She opened the passenger side door of their truck, got in, and stared into her lap. She rolled the window up to hide herself in shame. She breathed deeply, closed her eyes, slumped low, and heaved once.

She looked up. A smiling pony's face was beside the clinic's brand labeling. A seething, roiling rage poured back into her again, and she wiped a palm across her eyes. "God damn it," she whimpered, and focused on taking deep breaths. She needed to talk to someone, but Mike's warning was ringing in her head. She considered calling her father anyway. What she needed more than anything was a sympathetic ear, at least one person to agree with her.

More than that, she wanted to call her uncle.

Suddenly, the idea of lighting a clinic on fire wasn't such a bad idea. She told herself that it was her anger talking. She desperately tried to cling to rationality. Better to go back to feeling nothing. It was safer. She couldn't hurt anyone when she was numb. In the meantime, she filled the void with deep breathing and tried to calm down.

She remembered every detail of the suspect trying to scramble away from her. She wondered why she was so slow while running... or perhaps, it only felt like slow motion. Eliza cursed her hesitation with her gun, then chided herself for thinking that way. She knew that shooting an unarmed man would've been a lot worse, even if he did just shoot a cop.

Possibly armed. Given what he had done already and what he might have done to those people inside... the law said she could have shot him.

But he escaped. The man had shot a cop, ran over an innocent woman, and escaped by swan diving into Equestria.

She shook her head. Just... the anger. She didn't want it. Her mind was swimming with irrational thoughts, and her rational mind kept trying to rope her back to reality. Eliza turned her attention outside as she tried to fight the adrenaline and calm herself.

She watched the other officers cordon off the crime scene. Her eyes fell to the woman on the ground, in her pretty blue dress, her leg crushed and mangled at a sickening angle. She writhed in agony on the sidewalk. A state trooper was holding her head in a stable position. He was talking to her, soothing her, telling her to not move. The woman said something back to him. Paramedics rushed to the victim with a backboard, a collar, and a box splint.

One paramedic wore a navy blue ponypad on his belt, and Eliza recognized Princess Luna's cutie mark.

Of course, she thought.

The screaming...

Eliza's heart ached. She looked away and resumed taking deep breaths, like Mike had suggested. She spotted a camera above the building across the street. It was locked squarely on the front door of the Equestria Experience Center. Celestia wouldn't give up her own footage, but the other camera's footage would be used in the investigation for sure. Eliza suddenly withdrew her notepad and began to write everything down from the moment she got the call.

Just the facts. She knew she would be writing a lot in the next few hours, and details were already starting to slip away. She'd get her head straight, she told herself, and she'd do it by writing it all down.

"Warden Douglas," Lieutenant Horace said in greeting, as Eliza entered his office. He was black, and dressed like one would expect police brass to be dressed, sporting a tailored suit. Eliza had never seen him be anything but extremely calm and collected.

"Sir," Eliza said, as she sat. Five hours had passed since she left Mt. Vernon.

"I want to do my best to understand. Please, explain to me in your own words what happened. Start to finish."

"Yes sir." She spoke, detailing the entire event. Her lieutenant simply listened. When she finished, he offered her a full page notepad.

"I need your statement. Everything you just told me, I want you to write it all down for the record. If you remember more details, feel free to add to them." His cell phone began to ring, and he stood. "I'll be back. Take your time."

He had stepped out, and she worked on her statement. As ordered, she left nothing out, being as detailed as possible, even including her exact words where she could remember it. She used her notes as reference. A tense situation tended to jumble the facts out of order during recollection, and she wanted to be thorough and up front.

Lieutenant Horace re-entered as she wrote. She silently offered him her handwritten statement, sliding it halfway across the desk. Horace took his time reading through it. Eliza simply flipped through her notepad and read whatever she could to keep herself busy in the meantime. She even went through investigative notes from weeks prior, just to calm her mind.

"Douglas," Horace said, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Yes sir?"

"You didn't see a weapon on him at any point?"

"No sir."

"And the suspect's weapon was recovered from the scene, correct?"

"A sidearm was recovered from the suspect's vehicle. But, the AI stated that he had surrendered his weapon. It's possible there may have been more than one gun. Mike's report will verify this."

"And were the clinic staff interviewed?"

"By State Patrol, yes. I think. Their suspect. I wasn't there."

Horace went back to reading the report. "You kicked the door. The statue." He stopped again, then looked up at her curiously. "Douglas... you said these things? Tearing families apart?"

"Sir, I... I wasn't thinking clearly when—"

He fixed his gaze on her, and raised his hand. "Just yes or no, please."

"Yes sir." She gulped. "What I wrote is what I said."

"Why?"

"I don't..." Curse her honesty. She averted her gaze for a moment, and then looked at Horace as she found the words. "I don't know, sir. I was trying to tell him Celestia was dangerous. She helped him get away. I was upset."

"Destroying families, though?"

"I lost... control."

"Have any of your family uploaded?"

Eliza lowered her gaze again. "Y-yes."

Horace leaned back in his chair. His fingers drummed slowly on the desk. "How many?"

"Sir, is that relevant?"

"It may be."

Eliza hesitated. "Three. My fiance, my brother and sister."

Horace sighed, leaned back further, and his expression softened. "Jesus. I'm sorry. Do you still talk to them?"

"No," Eliza said, unable to keep the hurt off of her face. "No sir."

Horace placed the report on his desk and folded his hands. When he made eye contact with Eliza, he was more serious than she'd ever seen him, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. "Douglas, this is the most important question I have for you. Do you have any connection to any organizations outside this department?"

"... No, sir. Why do you ask?"

"Are you sure? Anything would be relevant."

"Uh… I go to church with my dad back home sometimes. I'm a member at the same shooting range all the other guys go to. That's all. What is this about?"

Her lieutenant eyed her carefully for a moment, and then lowered his gaze to finish reading her statement. It was another minute before he looked back up at her. "Douglas, I'll be frank. Your actions during the pursuit were justified. Everything up until the doors closed on you, in fact. You responded well."

"Thank you, sir."

"However, it's the behavior after the door closed that has me greatly concerned. You are not expected to deal with upload-related issues in your regular course of duties, and so it can be reasonably expected that you would not know the new procedure regarding the PON-E Act's protections. If someone enters the building and provides upload consent, we are to abandon the chase and cover the exits until the procedure is complete."

"I... didn't know that. Mike said that, though. After."

He nodded. "Also, that call I took a minute ago? That was Celestia herself. She said she will not be pursuing charges against you for the property damage, so... at least we don't have to worry about that."

"She did what?"

"I don't know, Douglas, I'm concerned too. A direct call from an AI is a little unnerving."

Eliza sighed. "What about the video?"

"Mike interviewed the folks filming you. I’m sorry, Douglas, they wouldn't delete the footage. They probably went and sold it within the hour. I haven't seen it yet, but it's already hit the local news. And given the state of things... the buzz might go national. The local media has not been forgiving. They made you look like a nut."

That overreaction replayed in her head over and over again. She had been blinded by anger. She tried to breathe deeply, and Mike's words from earlier rung in her ears. She wished she had listened to him and backed down.

"I respect your situation, Douglas, so please don't think I'm acting harsh on you. But this is bad. This is a PR fiasco, full stop. We've already had trouble justifying our existence when most of our responsibilities have been poached off the face of the planet. So, this is trouble. Our department just got egged. The layoffs were bad enough, but this..."

"I'm sorry, sir. I... I lost control."

"It's okay. You're not in trouble. You're young, and you're passionate about the job. You're one of the youngest we've ever onboarded, and Sergeant Cornwallis speaks very highly of you. You're skilled, and you're sharp. Mike says you learn quick. I've read all of your reports, and they're detailed. You don't leave anything out. Even here, you've been candid with the good, with the bad. So I'm taking that all into account."

With all the sudden positive feedback from Horace, Eliza braced herself for a harsh negative. Frontloading was always his style. The heavier the front, the heavier the penalty. She wondered if Horace had ever known how utterly legible his leadership style was to them all; whether Horace just accepted that all cops knew how to read that in him, or if he was just oblivious to it.

He continued. "I want you to relax. I'm doing what it takes to protect your career. When these layoffs hit, you'll get letters of recommendation, no matter where you end up going. But you're still not going to like what I have to say here. I'm sure now that the timing of this outburst was coincidental, Douglas. But even still, I'm ordering a psych evaluation and time off."

Despite bracing, she still wasn't ready. "Coincidental? What does that— Sir, please don't, I don't need time off, I—we're so close to closing some of our cases, I can't—!"

He held up his hand again. "Let me finish. You do need the time off. You had a very personal reaction in public. The media circus will pull off, in time. Always does. But this is about more than just our appearance. This is about you, and your future. Right now especially, Washington needs all the good officers it can get, and we need to make sure you have some time to decompress."

"I didn't fire my weapon," she pleaded, already wondering how she'd occupy herself with all that free time on her hands. She could manage a day or two. But any more time was unthinkable. "I didn't shoot him."

"No, you didn't. But judging by your statements, you're certain that someone did die today, someone you were pursuing. He may as well have jumped off a building."

"He shot an officer."

"He did," Horace agreed.

"He ran someone over. He needed to stand trial for it. I didn't want him dead."

"I agree, and I'm glad you feel the same."

She stared at him, her jaw going slack. "Sir... why are we just letting this go?"

"Because we don't have a choice," her lieutenant said, showing a rare instance of frustration. Eliza hoped it was at the situation, and not her. Horace quickly composed himself with a sigh. "But that's beside the point, Douglas. We're talking about you. And right now," he said very gently, "you need the time off. You think I haven't noticed, but you're bunking at the station almost as much as you're going home, and your reports come in during your breaks. That simply isn't sustainable. Your head is in too deep. And forgive me for saying this, but it sounds like you haven't taken the time to grieve."

"I just love my job, sir. It's how I've coped with it. I'm fine."

"Respectfully, I disagree." He sighed sympathetically. "And besides, even if you were fine, you still need time off the beat for PR. Your face is gonna get real visible for a while. It might affect your duties. Look Douglas, you're a well-meaning officer. You didn't hurt anyone. We don't want you to be seen as irrational. You just had a moment of weakness, and we all have those. This one just happened to be caught on camera."

She leaned forward slightly, trying not to look desperate. "Sir. The department's about to close. You might as well just fire me now."

"This is not punishment. You're taking two weeks, not a month. Before you return, I want you to speak to our psychologist for a fitness-for-duty evaluation. Yes, there's less than a month left, but we want you with us right til the end."

Eliza knew better than to argue any further. His mind was made up. She nodded gravely. "Yes sir."

"Don't worry about your incident report, your statement will do. Mike filed his IR already. And I'm sure he and Sergeant Cornwallis will be more than happy to pick up your assignments in the meantime."

"Yes sir..."

"Good. I'll email you the details for the psych. He's a good one, and don't worry. No PonyPads. You're fine to go home. Oh, and Douglas?"

She stopped mid-stand.

"Check the national news tonight. It's not really your fault that this blew up in our faces, given what's going on. If we're lucky, you'll slip under the radar and everyone will forget about this."

She nodded like she understood. She didn't, but she couldn't process anything else. She left his office and went to the break room to get her things. Cornwallis and Mike were sitting at the table there. They looked concerned, tired, and haggard. Their shift had long been over, but they were there to show support for Eliza. The thought lifted her spirits. Not by much, but it counted.

Mike stood and pushed in his chair, with his head tilted slightly in concern. "You doing alright?"

"Yeah, Mike." She lied.

"What's the verdict, Douglas?" asked Rick, the corners of his bushy moustache bristling in anticipation for bad news.

Eliza huffed. "Paid leave, Sarge. Psych eval, two weeks."

"Shit," Rick grumbled, averting his gaze. "Sorry."

"I knew it," Mike growled. "That's him. C'mon, go get your stuff. I'll walk you out to your truck."

"Okay." Eliza didn't feel like arguing anymore with anyone. She felt empty and emotionless. She traded a nod with Rick, then went to the locker room and gathered her clothes. Her uniform was good for another day, so she left it in the locker. It smelled slightly of citrus.

As she dressed, a thought forced her way into her mind, unbidden. She froze, and her eyes unfocused as the memory forced its way back: That woman in the pretty blue dress, her leg twisted in a painful angle. The bone piercing her skin, as she laid on her back in a small puddle of her own blood, somehow still conscious, still trying to talk to her rescuers.

Screaming.

And another scenario played out in her head for what was probably the hundredth time, this one imaginary. She imagined Tom walking into the Equestria Experience Center in Sedro-Woolley, and imagined him sitting down. Speaking the... the words.

She couldn't stop herself from imagining a probe inserting itself into Tom's ear. She imagined a dull sucking sound, a trickle of blood, as her brother was slowly sapped dry of life. She imagined the same thing happening to the suspect she had chased into the center.

No one deserved such an undignified death. Not her sister, not her brother. Not her fiancé. Not even a murderer.

She shook her head clear of the thought and stood to leave. Mike met her at the door and she followed him silently, scooping up her rifle bag from the break room table on her way out. The parking lot was dark. At Eliza's truck, Mike placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

Eliza asked meekly, "What happened to the trooper who got shot?"

Mike sighed.

"Tell me, Mike. Is he dead?"

"Douglas... he was hurt pretty bad."

She winced. "Nevermind. You're right. I don't want to know."

"Look," he replied, turning to face her more directly, his hand still on her shoulder. "We're here for you. You've got our numbers, yeah? Call us, don't be alone. We've got your back, especially if you start feeling like crap. If you want to go out drinking or something, we'll make a night of it. You, me, Sarge, Blake... the folks from the local dispatch box." He grinned. "We'll get drunk. Start a bar brawl, maybe get fired. Y'know... in solidarity."

She chuckled weakly. "Getting drunk's not really my style."

Mike grinned. "Yeah, probably not a good idea right now anyway. The thought's fun, though."

"Yeah."

A beat passed between them, as they looked at each other.

"And hey. Before I forget." Mike reached into his jacket's inside pocket and produced Eliza's Springfield XD-45. It was unloaded, with the slide locked back. He handed it to her, grip first. She grabbed it, but Mike held on for a moment. "Please don't make me regret giving this back to you."

She shot him a look of sudden disgust. "I'm not going to off myself, Mike. Jesus Christ."

He handed back the full magazine. "That's not what I..." he trailed off, looking to the side, his brow furrowing.

"I'm not. That's all we'll say on it." She pocketed the mag.

"O-Okay... I'm sorry, Eliza." Mike met her eyes again. "I just... I don't know what to say. I'm just scared for you, I've never seen you like this before."

"It's... fine." She knuckled his shoulder, her frustration with him already gone. She flashed an apologetic little smile. "Hey Mike? Thank you. You really did help me out today. I'll see you around, yeah?" She unlocked her truck, and clambered in.

Mike nodded. "Yeah, of course, you too. Drive safe."

Author's Note

[Youth - Daughter]

🌒 ~ Michael Rivas was quite a dear friend to Elizabeth, was he not? An unassailable mote of light in a storm, one may say, with conviction beyond measure. Even then, I greatly appreciated his guidance of her. He had always been genuine in his care of her... he was never truly tainted by ulterior incentive. I am deeply grateful.

After any incident where your emotions run high, the easiest way to get your head straight is to write notes about it immediately afterward. This simulates the event a second time, creating a secondary memory of events that reinforces the first. This in turn will help you write a more detailed report later, or to relate the incident to your superiors and coworkers.

My Little Pony: Report Writing is Magic.