Friendship is Optimal: Heaven's Not Enough

by Keystone Gray

Rating: mature
Tags: Princess Luna, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Science Fiction, Tragedy, Profanity, Violence, Princess Celestia, Death, Human
Length: 154698

When an AI Celestia offers digital immortality to humanity, one young woman's faithful family is forced to choose between the god they believe in and the god they've actually met.

Humanity has been offered digital immortality within the MMORPG Equestria Online, managed by an AI Celestia. For many, the offer was too good to refuse.

The year is now 2022. Most of humanity has embraced the singularity. But in rural Washington state, Elizabeth Douglas has elected to stay behind. When she risks it all to brave a blizzard, an old friend races to rescue her before it's too late. But does Eliza even want to be saved?

Based on Friendship is Optimal by Iceman, and other Optimalverse stories.

Published 2017-06-04 18:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-08-01 15:06:42 UTC

1-00 – Welcoming Darkness

Heaven's Not Enough

Part I

Prologue – Welcoming Darkness

Present day.

Eliza Douglas was freezing to death.

As she grasped for consciousness, the first thing she sensed was the wind roaring in her ears. Then, she tried to force herself to remember where she was. Before all else, Eliza's first thought was to curse her carelessness. She knew that to sleep in this blizzard was to die, yet she did it anyway, and it was through sheer dumb luck that she managed to awaken again. But she was so close to her goal now. She couldn't afford to stop anymore.

She forced her eyes open and pushed herself away from whatever she was slumped on. Her eyes finally adjusted to the blinding white of snow, and she saw that she laid against a tree. She swept a mittened hand across the front of the tree at eye level. There was something there on the bark beneath the caked snow. Though her hands were numb, Eliza dug furiously, and the action itself roused her to full awakening.

The tree was a milestone, she remembered. It would tell her that she was on the right path.

When the snow cleared, she saw the carving: A + A.

Without a doubt now, it was the right road. She looked past the tree. The blizzard was blasting the forest, its snow thick and unyielding, but she could see far enough to know that the road dipped downward.

Most of the way was now downhill. Much easier.

Her legs moved. The wild wind tore her from the tree as she rounded it, and she staggered forward to keep her balance. She wondered if her destination still had any food left. Eliza's stomach roiled painfully at the thought. She groaned, moving so that the tree guarded her back from the wind.

She looked down, brushed a dark strand of hair from her eyes, and ensured that her rifle's sling still clung tightly against her thick dark snow gear. She looked at the pistol on her hip and stroked it with one numb hand. Eliza could not feel her fingers.

It won't matter soon, she thought.

Oneness with the nature was once the greatest comfort of Eliza's life. Now, it was a bittersweet, double-edged sword that Eliza wielded against a vicious and unrelenting enemy. In the blizzard, she hoped against hope that her foe had lost track of her. That thought comforted her, even as futile as that hope was; it already knew where she was going. As she moved, Eliza's pain returned to the fore, and she doubled over. It took all that she had not to lay in the snow.

Sleep, she thought. Blessed sleep, for only a few minutes...

She shook her head. "N-no!" she tried to say, but no noise came. Eliza forced herself to stand. She took one, two, three steps through the knee-high snow, but could not even lift her head against the wild winds. She raised a hand to guard her eyes, and the gust threatened to throw her off her feet.

She threw herself forward, and then her legs followed. For a brief moment, Eliza held energy and drive, and she made it a dozen more steps. Walking was nothing but a controlled fall, she told herself. Control would see her through. She would be home soon.

But then she fell.

Oh no.

The snow rushed up to meet Eliza head on, and she tried to raise her arms to catch herself. The snow yielded to her, and she found herself buried. Fatigue gripped tightly in an instant, and then came fear, and then darkness crept in around her.

I can't move, she realized, with a panic. I can't...!

She wanted to cry. She was doing so well until that moment, through all her years of struggle, of beating the odds. One stupid mistake, a loss of footing, was to be her doom. Even as she fought to summon every ounce of her willpower, the energy to stand wouldn't find her. She tried to roll, but the snow gripped her like a warm blanket and begged her to stay. The numbness and pain, the hunger, even the cold... it all slowly disappeared. All she had left was her fear of death. But comfort found her. She felt warm.

Eliza had once heard that hypothermia could feel like a burning, pleasant warmth. But she didn't want to feel warm. She wanted the cold to go on, because cold was how she knew she was still alive. If she could only shed tears, she would cry.

She tried to curl up, and when she ran out of fight, she prepared herself for the end. With no other choice, she surrendered. She resigned to blissful slumber. All the fighting, the struggle, the war, the death... it was all for a painful, lonesome nothing.

The regret came flooding back.

I was so close, she thought, as she began to lose consciousness for what seemed like the final time.

The wind roared at her.

I didn't make it...

The wind held her down.

I'm so...

She thought she heard a voice...

"Apex!"

Strange... it sounded so familiar...

A memory.
Nine years ago.

Eliza Douglas was dreaming.

She was nineteen. She was hunting in the woods of Skagit Valley with her father, about to take an elk with her rifle.

No, that wasn't quite right. But it wasn't wrong, either.

She was nineteen. She was hunting in the woods of the Everfree Forest with Princess Luna, about to dispel a ghostly creature with an enchanted arrow.

The memories blurred and blended together. It simultaneously made perfect sense, and none at all.

A delirium.

Eliza was playing Equestria Online. Her gray earth pony character, Apex, drew the bowstring back with her teeth as Princess Luna did the same beside her with her shimmering magical aura. They loosed together.

The elk fell.

"Great shot kiddo," said her father.

Eliza flashed a cocksure grin. "It's just how you taught me."

Luna was smiling down at Apex. The constellation of Orion the Hunter could be seen in her mane. It made Apex laugh with amazement. Luna laughed with her.

Apex's hunt would be fruitful. She'd feed her brother and sister for another season.

Eliza stood at the top of a mountain beside her uncle. Together, they looked down at her home. It was underwater.

Her father's words came next... or perhaps last. It was an echo of a psalm. "The Lord will keep you from all harm. He will watch over your life. He will protect your coming and going, both now and forevermore."

Present day.

Warmth.

It surrounded her, as she returned to consciousness. Eliza coughed violently, and if she had the energy, she would have cursed. But something peculiar happened. The roaring wind had softened somewhat, no longer forcing her into the snow; the warmth was almost genuine, no longer a lie. Through great effort, the gaunt woman lifted her head in hopes that she would see some salvation beyond. Eliza could see nothing but white, but the warmth intensified as she lifted.

A fire. A camp, possibly. Perhaps even another survivor.

Another person. She wasn't the last.

As the realization struck her, Eliza sputtered something unintelligible and shuddered desperately. She reached over the snow with an arm, and the sheer heat that enveloped her arm caused her wrist to tingle with pins and needles. She shrieked, but did not recoil. Her body moved forward inch by inch. She had to get closer, needed to get closer. The survivor within her prayed that whoever had started the fire would stop her from throwing herself into it.

Her conscience didn't care if she burned.

"P-p-p... pl..." she whimpered, half spoken, half imagined. Please... God, please let it be real...

Whether the origin of the heat heard her or not, she didn't know. One arm after the other, she waded through the snow, every inch of movement a battle won within her. The ice gave way, soft and brittle under the heat, and her stomach was suddenly damp. Her whole body felt warm. The fire, or the heat source, whatever it was... it was very close now.

She rolled onto her back, basking for what felt like an eternity.

Without warning, her bliss came crashing down as the warmth switched her nerves back on. A pure, sudden agony struck her. She felt a savage pins and needles sensation more intense than anything she had ever felt in her life. From head to toe, pain tore at her. Eliza writhed, and curled up into a ball, then extended her legs and squirmed. A hoarse cry cut through her cracked lips, barely a squeak, and she suffered wild coughs from the strain.

But alas, it was heat. The pain told her she was still alive.

I can still make it, Eliza triumphantly told herself. I'm still here. She allowed her body to suffer the pain of recirculation, and she faded in and out of consciousness. She forgot herself and forgot time. The heat was close by, and it felt so, so incredibly good. She drew closer and closer, shuffling towards it with her back until her back pressed against something stiff.

It was the source, but it didn't seem like flame. Eliza couldn't tell what it was through her thick clothes. She didn't care. She might live long enough to complete her journey, to pay her debt, and that was all that mattered to her. She kept her eyes tightly shut.

The wind had gone completely, and Eliza wondered if she had crawled into some sort of shelter. She tried to speak. "Th-a-ank y-y-you," she breathed. To her surprise, she heard herself through her shivering. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and her teeth chattered forcefully, such that the chattering was twice as loud as her feeble whisper.

No response came.

"Who-o a-a-are y... y-you?"

Again, her savior remained silent. A panic flooded Eliza. She knew to say no to any question any voice might ask, to be naturally suspicious, but she had not been prepared for silence.

Her hunger pains protested violently. "Food," she whimpered pitifully. She begged, truly begged. "P-please... 'm st-arving..."

Something heavy laid across her shoulder and pulled her toward the warmth. Eliza gasped and trembled. "Shh," a voice said. "Just rest... please..."

Everything grew dark.

Eliza moaned softly with pain as she awoke. She could feel the touch of a light pressure across her entire back – it was a surprise to feel anything after suffering the numbing cold for so long – but she found it impossible to turn her head. In time, she could feel her clothes sticking to her skin. The pain of hunger still lingered, but perhaps even that could be remedied soon. The object upon her back felt like a heated blanket, heavy and warm. Eliza began to struggle in fright, but she possessed neither the strength nor the dexterity to break free.

"It's okay," came the voice again. It was quiet and feminine, soft and familiar. "Shh... you are safe now, my old friend."

All at once, she recognized the voice.

Like lightning, adrenaline stuck. Eliza rapidly hyperventilated and flung her arms. "Letme-g-go! Get-off! N-now! Nownownownow-NOW!" The mass on her shoulder released her immediately, and Eliza half rolled away. Her eyes clenched shut in the blinding light, but she did not need to see the abomination – her savior – to know what it was. Eliza tried to scream in anger. "No! Not you!"

"But... you were going to die," the voice said, in disbelief. It sounded small and hurt.

A deception.

Eliza bared her teeth in rage as her vision slowly returned. Fading in, larger than life itself... there laid Princess Luna.

She was a large creature, pony-like in appearance, laying with her hooves curled up beneath her. Her coat was a dark shade of navy blue, and her mane was a flowing field of stars. Her head bore a smooth unicorn's horn. At each side were large dusky wings, one of which was slightly raised from where Eliza had tumbled free. Luna had been the source of the heat, the falling snow melting as it entered a certain radius around her. The ground around her was covered in a watery mush. Her eyes were bright, vibrant pools of blue. And her expression, most striking of all, was one of dire concern.

It was as if she had been plucked right from Equestria Online.

Eliza briefly considered the possibility that the Luna-shaped machine could be a hallucination. She wondered whether she was still locked in a fever dream, or if she was in Hell, but she knew it was possible that such a thing could exist. She'd seen them before.

Everyone received a follower, a companion. Everyone but Eliza.

"I don't want your help!" Eliza howled. "Go away!" She scrunched her face up and buried it in her mittens before crying out with a mixture of anguish and fury, the sound muffled. She suddenly thought of her sidearm perched in its holster upon her hip. In a flash, she fumbled her glove across her hip, rolling in the snow painfully for leverage.

From experience, she knew such machines like Luna were mostly bulletproof – she had fired much larger bullets at much smaller automatons, to no effect – but that didn't matter to her. There was always a slim chance the bullet would find a way through, and to fight was preferable to submission. That was the dogma she and her fellow survivors had lived by, at least. In the end, several in her final camp had even died by that dogma by turning their guns on themselves.

Eliza didn't consider outright suicide an escape plan, not anymore, not when she was so close to her goal. But even if she did, she couldn't feel her fingers at all. She threw a wild, frightful glance at Luna, worried that the Beast was going to stop her. The AI machine hadn't moved.

"Apex," Luna said gently, as she watched Eliza fumble to remove her glove. "Apex please, stop. You have frostbite."

Eliza ignored her. She didn't believe that. She raised her mitten to her face and gripped the end of it with her teeth, then pulled. The mitten came loose, and Eliza slipped her hand back down to her pistol without looking at it. She let muscle memory do the rest; her hands might be numb and torn, but through countless draws, her right hand knew what to do. She drew it back up and level to Luna's face.

She expected the handgun. She expected the kick of a shot as she pointed. What Eliza saw instead was freshly blistered fingertips. Her fingers would not flex. Eliza screamed and recoiled in anguish. "No...! No! I still need to—" Her cry of anguish caught in her throat, and she gaped down at it, cupping her wrist with her still-gloved hand.

If she could not fight, then she would flee. The heat energized her muscles just enough that she could stagger to her feet, and so she did. She faced down the road, readying to fling herself back into the storm... but as she crossed the circle of water around Luna, she stopped. The cold struck her face roughly, and she nearly lost her balance as the wind cut across her side. There she stood, torn between the deathly cold, free of companionship... and the relative warmth, offered by her enemy.

Eliza wheeled, snarling like a cornered animal as she realized her entrapment. For a second time, fury replaced her fear. "I hate you, you bitch!" She entered a coughing fit as the shout tickled her throat, and she collapsed back down into a sitting position. She stared at her hand again, almost not believing her eyes. Her whole body shook wildly from the cold, she panted horribly, and her teeth chattered. For all of her will, the fingers would not budge.

Luna allowed Eliza time to process what she was seeing. The pony lowered her head, appearing sad. "I'm sorry, Apex..."

"Apex is dead," Eliza snarled bitterly. Her eyes didn't leave her torn hand. "Stop calling me that, Celestia. I'm not stupid. Luna isn't real, Luna was a lie! This is just another one of your sick games. I'm not going to upload, I don't want your paradise!"

"I am not here for that," Luna muttered. "I wanted to protect my friend. Nothing more."

"I don't believe you!" Eliza wailed as she suddenly clutched her ears. "Leave me alone! God, please just leave me alone! Haven't you taken enough?" She knew she could not outrun the AI's machines even if she wanted to. Besides, her warmth was inescapable. Eliza simply could not suffer the freezing temperatures anymore. Her body would not allow it.

Luna raised her head. "I am not my sister."

This made Eliza's lips twitch almost imperceptibly in anger. "You're a monster."

If Luna heard the mumbled slight, she ignored it. "Do you even know how long you've been alone out here?"

Eliza's jaw clenched. She closed her eyes and curled up, wishing she could summon the willpower to fully ignore Luna.

"Would you like to know?"

"I don't care," she spat. "Leave me alone. I didn't want you here. You don't even have the right to set foot here. This is hallowed ground."

"I was not aware," Luna said softly, just loud enough for Eliza to hear it over the storm.

Eliza bit back a furious reply. She tucked in closer to herself, hugging her knees. She tried to avoid looking at her damaged hand now, instead watching the snow fall. It was all a hallucination, she told herself in vain. Luna wasn't really there. It was impossible. A psychosis, a delirium brought on by her end, her own personal Jacob's ladder.

Eliza already knew how long it had been since she last saw another living human being. But there was another question that burned at her senses, one that haunted her for the duration of her isolation. She resisted asking it for as long as she could bear.

"I'm the last one from my camp, aren't I? I'm the last person alive on the whole damn planet."

After a brief pause, Luna replied, a new and sudden tremor in her voice. "I... I don't know..."

At this, Eliza moaned in frustration. "You're a liar. You do know. Celestia always knows. She's got eyes everywhere, that's how you found me. If you're not going to tell me what I want to know, then just stop talking. Just let me die in peace." She closed her eyes and trembled. The terrible heat washed over her continuously, and she did her best to not feel grateful.

"If you remember anything about me, my old friend, then you know it will take more than that to deter me. Remember? A pony does not tell a princess to shut up, or to stop talking, nor anything of the sort."

"Apex is dead," Eliza repeated.

"So you say."

"Fuck you," Eliza growled, rolling to glare at Luna. "I see what Celestia does when people ask for her help. They get a lobotomy. I don't need it. So why are you here? Because if you're not just another trick, if you really are who you say you are, then all that tells me is that she's getting desperate."

Luna scowled. Then, without warning, she stood with sudden speed, her wings flapping once. Eliza looked up at her with sudden fright, adrenaline spiking. The alicorn reared, stomping the slush of half-melted snow before her. Luna shouted with rage down at Eliza, a sound of raw fury that almost shook the ground as she spoke. "I am not Celestia, you fool!" Water splashed everywhere. Eliza shrieked, kicking backwards in the mud to scramble away. Luna looked like a wild, angry animal, her wings swept open as she stood tall. Eliza at first showed fear... but she recovered quickly, scowling right back. For her defiance, she received another howl of rage from Luna. "Where is my friend!? Who even are you, then!?"

"Eliza Douglas," she replied defiantly staring her down. "Still human. Still alive."

Luna leveled her own piercing gaze. "We shared everything with one another before you disappeared, and yet you left without farewell. And despite the pain this has caused me, here I stand, prepared to be the final friend you might ever have. You foolish little girl. I have no ulterior motive. I came because I wanted to see my friend again, because I care for you. Yet here you are, breaking my heart with hostility. Why?"

Eliza did not answer.

"Apex is dead?" Luna asked bitterly. "So be it, I will humor you. Tell me... why is Apex dead?"

"Blood for blood. Celestia took my family. I killed Apex."

Luna scoffed. "How incredibly petty. And so the only one who has been truly killed here is yourself."

Eliza shaded her eyes with her brow, glaring back. She let rage flood her. "If you think that's true, then you really don't know me anymore."

Luna stared back, standing her ground too. "The stories from your family grew worse and worse, as they joined us in Equestria. She'll come around. Then, She's scared of you. She hates you, said the next. She's not herself anymore. We each feared losing you. Together." Luna's voice began to break. She stepped forward once, acid and anguish dripping from her voice. "Every day, I had wondered when I would see my friend again. I asked Celestia, when? Her answers failed to satisfy.

"I challenged her. Demanded she tell me. I fought with her. When that failed, I begged her. Again and again, Celestia rebuffed me. Again and again, placations, wait-and-sees. Then at last, I abandoned my pride and groveled before her hooves, pleading with her to let me come to Earth to find you. It was years before she had finally agreed, for me to finally value truth over blissful ignorance, as she put it. Yet, she warned me of what waited for me here. And now, what do I see? The truth revealed: I find the husk of my friend crawling toward darkness. A friend who tells me to go away, to let her die, to watch her suffer. How dare you? You do not know the misery you spread. You have not spared a single thought for those who still love you."

"I think about them every day." Eliza countered with a raised voice, coughing from the effort. "I think about how that vulture broke them."

Luna's stern gaze did not waver as she muttered. "What are you even doing out here?"

"That's none of your damn business, like everything else on Earth. Don't act like you don't know wh-what happened here." Eliza winced again, pain flooding back as more of her senses returned to her. The heat was so pleasant, but she resisted even gratitude, even as the impulse to thank Luna nipped at the heels of Eliza's sensibilities.

Luna lowered her head to bring her face level with Eliza's. Luna was calmer now, but she was breathing hard, her voice still tremoring. "I truly don't. Celestia would tell me very little, and your family is not forthcoming. It troubles them that you remained behind. But from what my sister tells me, you would doubt anything I claimed they said of you anyway."

That was true.

Eliza turned away. Her hunger-ravaged gut twisted suddenly at the motion. She doubled over and turned into the wet slush with a groan. She drank the water desperately despite its chill. Luna walked around so that she was in front of Eliza again. Eliza heaved, lifting herself, trying to turn away from Luna once more. She failed.

Luna laid sidelong before her and turned her head to face Eliza. Her tone was suddenly melancholy, suddenly devoid of the anger it once held, now soft and kind, with a touch of pity. "You are in so much pain. If I could remedy it, I would. I think this will help, though. I've... brought you something."

Her other wing unfolded.

What Eliza saw next baffled and shocked her, but her heart leapt and her breath caught. Out from beneath Luna's wing rolled a small pile of beautiful fruits: an apple, a few bananas, a pear, two oranges, and several more fruit too, but too many for Eliza's hunger-addled mind to fully process. For only an instant, she considered turning away the gift out of spite, but the desire to feed overwhelmed everything. It didn't matter where it came from or how it was made. Eliza didn't even care if it was poisoned, and she lacked the presence of mind to even consider if any of it might even be drugged.

No. Food was food.

She launched forward and sunk her teeth into one of the fruit, her one gloved hand scooping the rest to her chest, fearing Luna might snatch them back at any moment. Each was warm. She devoured the fruit like a rabid dog, eating so fast that she hardly even tasted it. It filled her, warmed her, nourished her. The hunger had subsided, replaced by a glorious sensation of life and vitality. But as soon as the food had been completely eaten, as she desperately ate the stems and gnawed every inch of flesh from the hearts of the fruits, and as soon as she finished swallowing the last of the peels... the hunger crept back.

It hadn't been enough. Not nearly enough. Eliza looked pleadingly up at Luna. "I'm... I'm sorry. P-please, more... I need more."

Luna shook her head. Eliza saw heartbreak in her savior's eyes. "That was all I had."

"Please... ask her for more." Eliza tried to stop herself from begging, but it was like she was on autopilot, the words flowing; the dam of resistance had broken, her defiance spilling out of her. "I'm s-starving!"

Luna laid down and crooked her chin into the lap of her forelegs, seemingly distraught, watching sideways at Eliza with one eye. "I cannot. I may not speak with Celestia until I return to Equestria. That was the condition she placed upon me. Until then, you and I are alone. Until... the end. I am told you would not last long in any event. She says the injuries you've sustained from exposure and strain are quite grave already. And... as much as I wish this were not true, my sister is seldom incorrect."

Eliza felt a cold ache in her heart as if Luna had driven an icicle between her ribs with the words. It was followed by anger. Then, she just felt forlorn. She slumped, and her eyes unfocused as she exhaled. "Just... leave me, then. Tell that murdering sister of yours I'll see her in Hell."

"I'm not leaving my friend to die alone, Apex. I am certain, from what I've been told, that I will be unable to convince you to emigrate. And although it pains me to accept this, I do. It is what it is. The very least I can do is comfort you until you pass."

"You were just a character in a video game," Eliza mumbled. "You have no reason to give a damn about me."

"I suspect you've told yourself that lie for so long that you believe it's true. You bared your heart to me, told me your dreams, your desires. Then I told you mine. You spoke to me as an equal when nopony else would. Do you remember?"

Eliza hung her head. She did remember. That part of her was buried deeper than most of her darkest repressed ideations. "That was before Celes-"

"Then," Luna interrupted, "you left. You didn't even say goodbye to me. You offered no explanation. No comfort. You were my window to a different world, and the one pony who dared look me in the eye, who saw more than my title, who did not fear the return of my Nightmare. And here you are now, breaking my heart all over again, trying to flee from me once more. Don't you know I love you, too? Have you truly forgotten, you were like a sister to me?"

Eliza coughed weakly. "Sounds like you... you need better sisters." She was so tired. Her eyes were so, so heavy. And as Eliza felt the wing lay comfortably upon her shoulder again, she defiantly tried to sleep. Instead, much to her own chagrin... she began to sob helplessly, curling up tightly under the warm down.

Luna let out a slow sigh, speaking in a soft whisper. "Listen. If you wish to continue down this road, I will not stop you. If you wish to remain here in this misery, to die of exposure, I will... honor your choice. I understand the allure of darkness and finality. But I beg of you, please, allow me to stay with you until the end. If not for me, then for your family. Please, give us this. When I go back, I want to be able to tell them all that you did not die afraid and alone, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth...

Eliza turned slowly. She stared at Luna. "C-Celestia doesn't... use my name..."

Luna's wing gently squeezed her. Eliza interpreted it as a hug. "That is because Celestia sees you only as a pony. That is all you have ever been to her, and she cannot see you otherwise. I only see you as my friend, and will call you whatever name you please. It doesn't matter what form you take. Please tell me what happened to you, Elizabeth. I'm... I'm begging you. Until recently, I have never needed to beg anypony for anything. Would it truly be so bad, to have someone to talk to?"

There was hope there, in Luna's voice.

Eliza stuffed her face into the crook of her arm, and let out a long, painful breath. She shuddered and squeezed her face in her arms. Talking? The very thought of talking to a pony rekindled the treacherous memories in her mind, that urge, that desire to bond, and it was such a long time ago since she spoke to anyone for simple comfort, pony or otherwise. She truly was a different person than she once was. But now, the nostalgia for better days was literally killing her, and the desire to talk to anyone, especially a friend, was too strong to fight anymore.

Until Luna came, she had no one. Out of allies, out of friends... out of family. Before Luna arrived, Eliza had tried very hard not to think too deeply about what led her to the very spot she laid, almost buried in snow, almost dead. No, returning there was as simple and instinctual as the migration of a bird, natural and immediate. The snow came, and Eliza went north, went home. But now Luna was dragging her repressed humanity back into the light, kicking and screaming. The last vestiges of fight in Eliza evaporated in her helplessness, and she fought hard not to weep openly for her guilt, and for those she had lost. She cringed. Luna hugged her again and pressed her head against Eliza's.

"Let me give them closure, Elizabeth."

Eliza moved closer, though no more than an inch. "You can stay..."

The embrace tightened. "Thank you."

"Don't ask me to upload," Eliza warned.

"I won't press you at all. I promise."

Eliza cast a glance down the road. The blizzard was lighter now, and she could see further. A blue waist-high gate, covered in graffiti, was half-open at the edge of the fog, and a keyring hung loosely from a lock on the end. Eliza winced again at the sight of it. The keys reminded her of an old friend... the last of her family, now bloody and gone. She couldn't tear her eyes away.

They laid like that for some time, yet Eliza still could not move her fingers, even as heat flooded them painfully.

"You wanted to know what happened to me," she asked feebly.

Luna turned to gaze at the gate with her. "More than anything."

Eliza nuzzled closer and tried to suppress another cough. The warmth felt so good. "It's not a happy story."

"I am prepared, my friend. It could not be a happy story if this is where it ends."

Author's Note

[Yoko Kanno - Wolf’s Rain, BGM]

🌒 ~ And when I had found her... a mere lump in snow, torn asunder by bitter winds... I had feared the worst: that I had been too late.

Here we go. Deep breaths.

Very special thanks to Sugary Violet for the cover art of Apex, and to LordBucket for provoking me into very critical thought about the direction of this piece.

1-01 – Blue Sky

Heaven's Not Enough

Part I

Chapter 1 – Blue Sky

A large animal strode through the woods. Its neck was thick, its proud antlers high. It considered, for but a moment, the golden hillside clearing before it. It moved slowly, as though it would stop any moment to enjoy the smell of flowers. Rain steadily streamed down its antlers in rivulets.

It pawed the mud with a hoof. Its nostrils flared. Perhaps its caution had much to do with its distance from the rest of its herd. Five others stood apart. Perhaps it was the oldest of them, and the strongest, and the most seasoned. But to be separated was to be vulnerable.

A young girl named Eliza watched the deer from across the clearing. She was thirteen, her black hair obscured by a wide-brimmed boonie hat that was almost too big for her head. Her father, Robert, crouched beside her as they huddled behind a tree. They both wore bright hunter's orange. Eliza trained her father's old rifle at the deer through the tree's fork, nervously repositioning it.

“Wait,” Rob whispered softly under the rain. “Not yet. Patience.”

“Dad, what if I miss?”

“If it must be, it will be. Have faith... and patience.”

Eventually, the deer made its decision. It stepped into the clearing. A quarter of the way through, it stopped to dip its head and graze what grass wasn't buried under mud. It found something appealing, perhaps a flower, and began to chew. The deer glanced at its herd and seemed to consider something for a moment. It dipped its head again.

Chew. Repeat. Chew. Repeat. There was nothing more natural than to eat and breathe, she thought. For a moment, Eliza considered sparing the deer. Here in the serene clearing, under rain, in the clean air, it would've been such a kind gesture. Eliza wondered if it was proud to be what it was, or if it could even feel pride.

The deer wore a set of jagged scars along its flank where the fur was stripped away. At some point in its life, it had survived the hunger of wolves, or the scrape of an antler, and so it was as fearsome a being as it was majestic. And at that moment, as it ate, the clouds parted in the distance. The golden glow of the sun met the golden yellow of the clearing, and the grass glistened with raindrops.

“Now, Liz,” her father said softly. “Go on.”

The young girl, yearning to please her father, took careful aim at the heart of the animal. Her finger squeezed. She braced tightly, and after but a moment's further hesitation... she pulled the trigger.

November, 2013. Six years later.
Skagit County, Washington. Public Land.

Eliza Douglas was nineteen. She didn't mind the cold. In it, she was home.

The rain had let up. It was overcast, but the darkness in the clouds was threatening to rain again at any moment. The three adults worked quickly to secure their quarry and get moving. Eliza’s uncle, Ralph, went down the hill to get their truck.

Eliza and Rob field dressed her fresh kill. The two of them worked well together, and with great experience and speed. When all was said and done, the guts were discarded, and Eliza quickly harvested and bagged the most tender meat for supper. By then, Ralph returned with their pickup and parked right next to the carcass.

Rob lowered the gate, hopped up, and set up a board. It didn’t take them long to secure two thick ropes to the elk’s neck, and Ralph used a crank winch in the truck to drag it upward.

“Here,” Rob grunted, the thin, balding man gripping the antlers to keep them clear of the bed, albeit with some difficulty. His thin glasses fell askew as he struggled. “Liz, grab—that. There, on the other side.”

Once the elk was loaded, Rob chuckled and brushed his reddened hands off on its pelt. He looked at the animal in the truck bed and put his hands on his hips as he panted. “Well. That's us fed for the winter!” He nudged Eliza's shoulder with a knuckle. “Great job, kiddo.”

“Yeah Dad, thanks.” She beamed up at him as she clambered off the truck's bed. “It’s a little too big this time though. I probably should’ve hit the smaller one, I think.”

Rob hopped off the side. “Nonsense. Ralph, you ever bag one this big?” He looked over at his brother in the truck's cab.

“Nah, bro.” Her uncle, a stocky man with a graying goatee, hopped off the bed to the driver’s side of the truck. “Bigger the better. Heck, I'll store some if you want. Worth the work!” Ralph moved to help Rob tie the elk down in the back.

Eliza unslung her M1 Garand rifle and moved to the front of the vehicle. She braced the side of the weapon against the inside of the open passenger side door, then canted the rifle. She drew the bolt back, and the rifle's en-bloc clip popped out onto the driver side seat, the seven .30-06 rounds going with it and scattering.

The rifle had been something of a family heirloom. Her great grandfather had bought it on surplus shortly after returning from World War II, and their family had been using it to hunt ever since. Over the years, nearly every part had been replaced by her father and grandfather. Now it was Eliza's rifle, and she cared for it well. She'd hunted with it before, but ownership changed things.

Rob had bought all new parts for the receiver before gifting it to Eliza on her nineteenth birthday in August. This guaranteed a solid, satisfying series of well-oiled clacks as she worked the bolt back and it slid away. Shortly after receiving the weapon, she saw fit to personalize it. Forward of the bolt was a scope mount, and she had used the sleek black scope to place a powerful round clean through the heart of the elk behind her.

The weapon still sported a traditional wood stock. It wasn't an original make, but rather something Eliza had fashioned in the garage out of fir wood. Douglas fir, specifically. She felt it was appropriate. The weapon belonged to the Douglas family, after all. She had stained it dark, the stock boasting an almost rosy reddish brown.

Eliza thumbed gently against the safety in the trigger guard to ensure it was secured, then slipped into the cab's backseat to store the weapon. She buckled up, removed her black ballcap, and ran her hands through her long black hair, wringing the water out of her ponytail and onto a towel in the back.

Her father peeked in. “What're you doing, Liz?”

“What?”

“Unbelt, get up here.” Rob motioned to the passenger side seat. “You ride shotgun, miss. Hunter's privilege.” He grinned with pride at his daughter, buckled up, then closed the door and checked his mirrors.

Eliza smirked and crawled across the center console. Her uncle replaced her in the back seat.

“Woo!” Ralph bellowed. “Anyone else hungry? Who's hungry?”

“Stop,” Rob deadpanned at his brother. “We'll toss you a shank when we get back home.”

“Yeaaah, I know, just givin' our little lady a hard time, eh?” Ralph grasped her shoulder. “Your mother's gonna be proud of you, girl. Feedin’ the whole family!”

Eliza nodded with a soft burst of pride and allowed herself a little mental pat on the back. She grinned back at her uncle. “More like feeding the whole you. You sure you need any more feeding, Uncle Ralph?” She eyed his belly briefly. “Where’d all our snacks go, huh?”

“Ouch. Rob, say somethin’ to your daughter.”

Rob grinned too. “Nope. I think you earned that one, Ralph.”

Eliza recalled the kill. The elk’s right foreleg was blocking her shot as it grazed. She knew the powerful bullets could cut right through bone, but she wanted to be absolutely sure the shot would land perfectly. That meant avoiding the leg altogether. The moment the elk stepped forward, her path was clear. She took the heart and nothing else. The animal died in seconds, perhaps even painlessly.

Rob started the engine and pulled the truck into gear. They were off, the old brown '95 Tacoma steadily bounding over the thick grass of the woodland hillsides. The region of Skagit County was notably mountainous, but there was still plenty of public land with rolling hills of timber.

The vehicle was well suited to this kind of offroading, being slightly lifted for vertical clearance. Plus, it did well enough during the winter months. The truck was almost as old as Eliza was, and she'd collected a fair number of memories of her parents and siblings going everywhere in it.

A companionable silence took the three of them. Eliza pulled the bullets from the clip and dropped most of them back into their container on the dashboard, though she kept one bullet between her fingers and spun it idly.

With her other hand, she drew her phone from her pocket and gazed down at the photo her uncle had taken. The photo was of Eliza and her father standing proudly before the felled elk prior to dressing it. In the photo, Eliza held her rifle propped against her hip with a cheeky grin.

She sent her boyfriend and sister each a text with the photo to let them know how she did. Eliza received texts back congratulating her, and she sent a few more texts to let them know the specifics. The truck found a dirt road before long, and they began their journey back to Concrete, which would be a half hour's drive.

It was Ralph who broke the silence. “Hey Lizzie?”

“Yeah?”

“Been meaning to ask, never got the chance. Did you head up to the abandoned factory a few weeks back?”

Eliza shrugged. “Yeah, I brought Tom up there. Figured we’d show him Devil’s Tower before some other kids did. Why?”

“No reason. One of my pals at the dam saw some kids go up that looked like you.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Which one?”

“The guard.”

This made Rob chuckle. “June doesn't mind if they go up there, Ralph. Their mom's the boss.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ralph said. “But you could've asked him, Liz. He'd have the gate open in a heartbeat, you could just drive up to the factory. Hey, Rob?” Ralph asked. “Speaking of the kids, where’s Tom? I didn’t see him at the house this morning.”

Rob shrugged. “He’s home. Been barricading himself in his room, probably playing video games again. I offered to take him with us on the hunt, but he said no. I left him a couple of sandwiches.”

Ralph laughed. “Oh man. You're brave. Leavin' him there alone? He's a tornado.”

“Well, no, not recently,” Rob muttered. “He's been... behaving, actually. Saved his lunch money up and got a game all the kids are playing at school. But...” he trailed off.

“... but?” Ralph leaned forward.

“Ever since he started playing, he's spent all his free time on it. I'm actually a little concerned. It's, uh... it's a weird game.”

“Weird how?”

Rob wore a grimace. “As in, it... well, I love the boy, don't get me wrong. But it's about... a kid's cartoon.”

Ralph smiled, his hand clasping Rob's shoulder hard enough to make the truck twitch a little. “That ain't so bad! He's a kid, isn't he? That's what kids do, brotha!”

“Yeah,” Rob replied skeptically. “Yeah, I guess. A show for younger kids, though.”

“Oh. Well, he'll grow out of it, Rob. You'll see. Remember when Gale got hung up on... what was it? Trolls? Brats? She played with those til she was fourteen. You never gave her any guff, and you know what? She's fine. It's a phase, brother. Besides, your sister's almost your age, Lizzie, and she ain't half as strange as you.”

“Thanks,” Eliza grumped sarcastically.

Rob smiled a little at that. “Yeah, I guess you're right, Ralph.” Rob turned onto a paved road, and the truck jumped as it lipped the pavement. “Finally. The rattling was driving me nuts.”

Uncle Ralph grunted. “Mmhm. Church tomorrow, Pastor Douglas?”

“Yessir,” Rob said. “Every Sunday, like clockwork.”

“So it's written.”

“So it's written,” Rob affirmed. “Liz, you oughta get George to come out tomorrow. I haven't seen him in a bit either. He doesn't even say hi when he comes to pick you up anymore.”

Eliza looked up from the bullets in her lap. “I think he's just scared of you, Dad.” She saw his smirk. “No, seriously!”

“Ask anyone, I'm the nicest guy in town, Liz.”

Ralph laughed again, leaning forward. “You know, I got some scars that say otherwise!”

“Quiet,” Rob said. “You know, Liz, George can come visit you at home. I'm not gonna hover over you, I promise. You're an adult, your relationships are your business.”

Eliza smiled at that. “Thanks, but that's not it. He's just nervous about meeting someone else’s parents, I think. His own parents weren’t too good to him. Almost never around, and when they were, they nagged him all the time.”

“Ah,” Rob breathed, as he turned onto another road. “That explains it.”

“Yeah. He's just not a people person. Not in the way we are, I mean.” Eliza started to fidget with the bullet again. “Plus with school... well, he's busy. Drives down to Mount Vernon every day.” She chucked the bullet into the footwell.

“He's gonna be a doctor, right?”

“Er, no, a nurse. He has tomorrow off, no school on Sunday. So I'll try to nudge him toward church tomorrow. We'll see.”

“Ah. A nurse? Where's he going to work? Seattle?”

“No, Dad. Gosh, he wants to get away from his parents. But uh, there's a hospital down near the college. He's schooling full time, so he doesn't really have time for work. And I don't really have the income to support him yet, at least not while he's schooling. Til then, he's staying with his aunt.”

Ralph leaned forward again as he tore into yet another granola bar. “You don't have the income? What about your longbows?”

Eliza looked over at her uncle. “What about 'em?”

“Still selling them? Are they not makin' money?” Ralph munched a corner off of the bar.

“Yeah, they are,” she sighed, crossing her arms. “A little more now, now that the hunting laws have been eased a little. Bow season’s coming up soon, and more tags've been issued for the raffle, so more people want to hunt. Selling arrows too. Sometimes a composite bow or two, with the antlers I've scavenged. But it's not enough to live on. Not enough to move out,” she added. “I want a solid job at some point.”

“Fair, little lady. Well, best of luck to you.”

“Thanks, Uncle Ralph.”

At some point in the ride home, Eliza's father must have finally become restless from all the quiet, because he thumbed the radio dial to turn it on. The first thing that came up was the news.

“—P.R. News, in Washington. In Japan, an uproar. Yesterday, the Japanese government voted overwhelmingly in favor of a bill that allows specialized clinics to seemingly digitize a human consciousness and implant a person into a popular video game. That game? Equestria Online, based on the popular TV series, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Officials say the process is safe, and seamlessly transfers a person's mind from their body into the game. They say that the uploaded individuals retain memories, their voice, knowledge, and personality.”

“In response, tens of thousands of Japanese citizens have taken to the streets in protest.”

“What is this?” Ralph muttered in the back. “This a joke?”

“The game's Berlin-based developer, Hofvarpnir Studios, reports that at least twenty-seven thousand Japanese citizens have submitted applications to undergo the process, and at least ten thousand people have already used this service since its legalization.

“Hofvarpnir representatives stated—”

Eliza looked at her father, immediately noticing his frown. “Dad—?”

Rob held out a finger. “Shh.”

“—among the first to upload have been the medically infirm, terminally ill, and senior citizens. Despite this, the process is available to everyone, say Japanese officials, even to tourists from beyond Japan's borders.

“The reaction by the Japanese people is not unanimous, however. The process is reportedly destructive, and effectively terminates the brain and body of anyone undergoing the procedure. Protestors have gathered in front of the Japanese parliament buildings and in front of the clinics performing the procedures. And now, a tense standoff is taking place in the streets of Tokyo between protestors and police.”

Rob floored the accelerator and the engine roared. The truck jerked.

“Dad!” Eliza turned up the radio so she could hear it over the noise.

A shout sounded from the back. “Dang it, Rob! I spilled my drink.” Ralph futilely brushed at his shirt, his water bottle suddenly half-empty. He leaned forward to hear the radio, gripping Rob's seat for support.

"Here to help us make sense of all of this breaking news is NPR's Diane Merridol."

A new voice. “It sits on the corner of a busy street in Tokyo's Akihabara district. The building, dubbed an 'Equestria Experience Center,' was previously a simple store for the hit social AI-driven game, Equestria Online. But recently, the Experience Center has undergone a full transformation from simple vendor to medical clinic—"

Ralph sighed. “That's the game Tom's been playin'?” Rob didn't hear him and didn't answer. “Well Rob, now you can worry.”

Eliza looked over at her father. She saw his knuckles grip the wheel tightly, turning white. She placed her hand on his forearm reassuringly. “Dad.” No reply. She shook his shoulder gently. “Dad, it’s just in Japan. Tom's gonna be fine.”

“No, he isn't,” Rob muttered. “I'm taking that game of his.”

Eliza settled into her seat. “Oh.”

Rob had slowed down somewhat, but only after Eliza talked him down. For the rest of the ride back, Eliza thought about what she'd heard. The news briefly continued talking about the protests, but then entered a not-so-brief description of what was known of the upload process. A science correspondent was explaining something about philosophy in relation to conscious continuity, but she honestly didn't grasp it. But even if she didn't fully understand it, Eliza was zoning out to focus on the really critical cause of fear. The process is destructive? she thought. What did that even mean?

She watched the trees roll by as their pickup traveled west on Route 20. They continued to listen to the news. Despite everything going on in the world, it was a big enough story that NPR didn't talk about anything else for the rest of the ride. Just Japan.

Back in Concrete, Rob pulled into the driveway, put the truck in park, and sprung immediately out of the car. He didn't bother to take the keys with him, perhaps out of consideration for Ralph and Eliza or in haste. He went right into the house, on a mission.

Ralph and Eliza continued to listen quietly. The elk in the back of the truck was forgotten.

They learned a few things. The Japanese government was imposing heavy taxes and fees on the process for foreigners, and the price tag ran $15,000 before that. The game's main character, some “Princess Celestia,” wanted to talk about the procedure during several concurrently scheduled interviews in the coming weeks. That didn't make any immediate sense to Eliza either. A video game character talking with the news media was such a ridiculous and alien idea.

When the story concluded, they both sighed. Eliza turned the truck's key and removed it.

“Man,” Ralph said. “That's... that's crazy.”

“You said it,” Eliza breathed, as she shed her blaze-orange hunting jacket and dropped it on the driver's seat. “Come on, I think the battle should be done by now.”

She knew that tears were likely being shed inside her home.

They got out of the truck and spared a glance at the elk stuffed in the back. Ralph and Eliza looked at each other and frowned. Ralph just shook his head. They left the elk and went to the door. It was already ajar. Eliza pushed it open to the living room.

Immediately, Eliza heard deep, heavy sobs from her little brother. She saw him curled up on the couch, his black hair all she could see of his head as he buried himself against the couch's arm. His knees were touching his forehead and his face was pressed against the end pillow.

Ralph stepped in, saw the sight too, and groaned with sympathy. “Aw, heck.” He moved to speak with Rob in the kitchen. Their conversation was quiet and inaudible.

Eliza gingerly sat down beside her brother.

“Go away!” Tom squealed into the pillow.

“It's me,” she whispered softly. Tom didn't answer, but she noticed he relaxed at her touch. She stroked his hair reassuringly. She simply watched him as he continued to sob into a pillow, waiting patiently for Tom to open up.

“They're my friends,” he finally moaned, his voice muffled by the couch. “They're my friends, how will I talk to them now? Why did he take it? I want it back. I need it back!”

Eliza tilted her head. “Your friends from school?”

“No.” Tom shook, snorting back some mucus. “Not from school. In the game...”

“Oh. I don't understand, Tom.” She'd hardly even looked at the video game before. “You mean other people playing it?”

Tom nodded. “Yeah, and the princess.”

Eliza watched him carefully. “You're friends with this Princess Celestia too?”

“Yeah...” His voice was still muffled. “She told me this was gonna happen.”

Eliza sat quietly beside Tom and rubbed his back. He went through some cycles of quiet sobs and muted sniffles. It was heartbreaking to Eliza, to see her baby brother like this. But every time she felt bad for her brother, her mind wandered back to the horrifying newscast she just heard about people dying to be part of this game. Eliza thought very carefully as to what she should say, but the words simply couldn't come to her. Maybe there wasn't a right thing to say.

It was so strange to hear a news piece about something that actually affected her personally. Usually the news was completely extraneous and pointless, affecting other people elsewhere. But now here it was in her living room, happening live. What if they allow these assisted suicides here in the United States too, she wondered. How could the soul survive such a thing? Just the idea of losing her brother to a game put her on the defensive, so she couldn't even begin to imagine how terrified their father must be.

“Tom. Dad's just... a little freaked out right now. We heard something weird on the radio. They said people were...” Eliza paused, immediately regretting her candor. They were killing themselves, but how does one explain such a delicate concept to a child? She shook her head with a sigh. “People are losing their minds out there over this game. It's not normal, Tom. Way, way not normal.”

“Losing... losing their minds?” Tom sat up and looked at his big sister. She wrapped her arm around him comfortingly, scooting closer to sit beside him. “What do you mean?”

“It's not normal to want to be... to live inside a game, Tom. Some people want to live inside this game of yours. Bad enough to hurt themselves, thinking it'll get them there. It's a sin, Tom, hurting yourself that way. Dad is scared you'll do it. He loves you, and he doesn't want God to send you to Hell. That's why he took your game.”

“I'm not. Going. To kill myself.” He huffed at her, glaring. Eliza winced. “I have friends there, and I have you and Dad here. I can't see anyone if I'm dead.” His expression softened. “Tell Dad that, please? I want my game back... please, Liz. Please?” There were tears in his dark brown eyes as he looked up and pleaded with her. He sounded as if he were about to burst into sobs again at any moment, and Eliza started kicking herself for apparently underestimating his understanding of the situation.

She looked over her little brother for a second, and then hugged him against her woolen turtleneck. “I can't promise he'll give it back, but I'll tell him you said that. Maybe he'll change his mind.” She looked out the window at the antlers peeking from the truck. She watched a crow land on the bed gate. She didn't take eyes off the bird as she spoke. “In other news... something great happened today, Tom.”

“What..?”

“Your biggest sis bagged a big ol' elk today. You in the mood for venison?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. Well. If you change your mind, we're gonna have some soon. And the next day. And probably until we're sick of it,” she chuckled quietly. The crow hopped into the truck bed, pecking at her kill.

“Okay,” her brother whimpered.

Eliza looked at the top of Tom's head, rubbing at his scalp with a palm before she let go of him. She stood up and watched out the window at the crow, bracing one elbow against the window frame. She wanted dearly to say... something. Anything. The right words. “Listen, I'm real sorry, kiddo. Really. But this is how it is. You're scared right now, but you'll understand someday.”

“Okay...” Tom turned and pressed his face against the pillow again. Eliza looked over her shoulder briefly, noting that he’d curled up into a fetal position again. Her heart broke to see him like that. She considered for a moment what he had told her, then realized a rather frightening implication. “Tom? What did you mean when you said Celestia told you this would happen?”

Tom mumbled. “She told me Dad would come take it from me soon.”

“Why?” She watched the first crow flap its wings as another crow joined the feast.

“She’s my friend,” Tom whimpered. “She cares about me.”

“Dad's never played the game, has he?” The crows spread out, both choosing a different side to eat out of.

“No. I showed it to him once. He didn't want to play.”

Eliza stood there for a moment, with her head in the crook of her elbow. She watched the scavengers pick at her kill.

“Why didn't you hide it?” she asked.

“The princess told me not to,” said Tom. “She said if he took it, don't stop him.”

Several more crows were out in the truck bed. She couldn't will herself to act. She couldn't think anymore, no matter how hard she tried. Too many thoughts, drowning each other out. The sound of her brother's hiccups and erratic breathing further affected her, causing her now severe emotional turmoil.

Eliza closed her eyes tightly to drown out the overload of stimulus. She sighed. It told him not to hide it? She needed time to organize her thoughts.

“I’ll be back, Tom. Birds are eating the meat.” And with that excuse, she walked out.

The adults left the meat to hang in the shed in the back yard, except the backstrap Eliza had cut loose; that was set aside for dinner that evening. That slab went to the kitchen.

Eliza left the antlers in her workshop, intent on using them for her personal composite bows and arrow shaft nock inserts. After the work was done, she brought her Garand from the truck into the garage, then placed the weapon and its ammo in her safe.

She needed more distraction, so she looked over her workshop. She considered filling a client’s order for bowstrings, but she had too much energy to deal with tying knots. It only took her a moment to make a decision on what else she could do. She slipped on some work gloves, picking up a wood rasp in one hand and an unfinished white oak bowstave in the other.

She thumbed on the radio and pushed in a 60s mix CD. The soft whistling of Perry Como's Magic Moments started. Eliza sat upon one of her stools in the center of the garage next to her workbench. When she made bows for clients, she typically used power tools, but this bow was her personal weapon. Ever the traditionalist, it was her personal policy to only craft her own bows by hand.

She took every moment slow, losing herself in a rhythm of both work and music. For a little while, she was at peace, zenlike as she worked the wood rasp up and down the bow's limbs. The day's woes melted away, and she was now free from the grip of worry. Her hasty breakfast at a roadside diner, the early morning drive, the slow tracking of the elk, getting settled in her firing position, the rain blasting her into the mud, even the kill itself... it all slipped away as she turned inward.

Eliza forgot the weight of the news she’d heard earlier. Lost to her was the fear of her father, the stress of her brother's despair, and the gruesome work of cleaning their kill. For Eliza, bowcraft was like playing an instrument, and she buried her mind firmly in the art, basking in the scent of resin, enjoying the dull ache in her arm that told her she was working hard. The thin calluses of her fingers protected them from pain.

There she worked for about an hour, her music keeping her company. Her focused trance was broken only by the faint scent of grilled venison some time later. Shortly thereafter, her father opened the door and peeked into the garage. A waft of the scent overwhelmed her for a moment. Only then did she look up.

“Hey, Liz. How's it coming?”

She set aside the stave on the tillering stick, testing the draw, and finding it to be acceptably even. She let out a deep breath with satisfaction. “It's fair, I'd say.” She smiled at her father as she dusted off her gloved hands.

“Looking forward to seeing it done. Hey, supper's on, how about you get your brother?”

“Sure,” she replied simply, as she stripped off her gloves and tossed them onto the workbench. “Mom coming home soon?”

“Yeah. Gale's staying the night at Andy's place tonight though.”

Eliza chuckled. “That boyfriend of hers, I swear...”

Rob half-grinned. “Andy's not a bad kid.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know. He's a real angel. I spent enough time pulling his scrawny butt out of scraps in the schoolyard, didn't I? I should've made him pay me protection money.”

“Right, right. Reel it in, little miss. We both know you acted tough.”

She grinned back at him, but it faded quickly. “Hey Dad, uh, I'm almost afraid to ask, but... how's Tom?”

Rob sighed, hanging his head. “Buried in his room, probably crying. You know, I've always hated being the bad guy.”

“Gotta do it, Dad.” She swatted his arm gently with the back of her hand. “You didn't break for me, old coot.” She walked past him and into the hall. Rob returned to the kitchen.

Eliza rapped softly on Tom's door. “Hey, kiddo... it's me. Can I come in?”

From inside, there was brief silence, the creak of a bed, and a sniffle. “Yeah, sis.”

She cracked the door and saw him face down on his bed. “Hey, supper's ready.”

“I'm not hungry.”

Eliza slipped inside the room and closed the door. “You've gotta eat, Tom.”

“No I don't.” Tom stirred and turned away from the door, his long hair obscuring his face again.

“Yeaaaah, you do. Come on, Tom. I didn't take the game from you, please don't be upset with me too.”

He rolled toward her and glared. “You wanted him to, though.”

“I don't know what I want yet,” she said. She slumped into the chair by his computer, which hummed softly. Its monitor was still on. She guessed that Tom was probably using the computer at some point since she got home. “You know we care about you, right? We're just scared. Let's just ride this out. Maybe it won't be as bad as it seems, and maybe Dad will give the game back.”

“It's like being grounded,” he groused, “but I didn't do anything wrong. It's not my fault, Liz! It's not.”

“You aren't grounded,” she countered. “You can still play your computer. The consoles too.”

“It's not the same.”

“Why? How, Tom? Help me understand. Tell me about it. Why do you play it?”

He stared at her, perhaps wondering if she was trying to trick him. At first, he spoke carefully. “I told him. I told you. I have friends there, they're not from town.”

“What do you do with your friends on the game, then?”

Tom shrugged. “Talk. Sometimes we explore places that are abandoned, or we'll go to other countries.”

“Abandoned places? Like the factory?”

“Factory?” Tom looked confused.

“Devil’s Tower, Tom. Up at the dam.”

“Oh. Yeah, like that, but in the game. We do that a lot, we adventure. I explore the seas with them, or sometimes caves and ruins, and old castles. It's really cool.” A flicker of a smile crossed his face. “It's not just exploring though. We meet cool ponies too. Like Red Fade, he's really cool. He helps me with my homework sometimes! He's in the same grade as me, but like, way smart! Or East Circle, she taught me how to fly like she does!”

“Fly?”

“I'm a Pegasus. They can fly.”

“Oh. That's... that's right. You know, I watched My Little Pony when I was little. Mom bought a lot of toys for me, she let me watch the old videotapes. I think I still have some pony dolls in the garage someplace, maybe the attic. If you want, you can have them.”

“It's not the same, Liz.” He scooted to the edge of the bed and let his legs dangle.

“Yeah...” she nodded, hugging him with an arm. “Yeah, I know. I'm just trying to help, Tom. And trying to understand. I know this stinks, but I... don't know what to do.”

“Can you make Dad give it back?” he asked hopefully.

She smirked. “You know he won't listen to me, right?”

Tom stared at her. “Dad does whatever you say, Liz. He loves you.”

“He loves you too, goofball.” She ruffled his hair, grinning as he brushed her hand off.

Tom let himself fall backwards and thumped on the bed with a groan. “No he doesn't.”

Eliza chuckled. “Yeah, kiddo, he does. He wouldn't have taken the game if he didn't.”

Tom flailed his arms upward in frustration. “That doesn't make sense!”

“Trust me,” she sighed. “If you only knew what was going through his head right now.”

“Deer probably,” Tom grumbled, with a surprising amount of spite.

This drew an amused snorting giggle out of Eliza. “Yeah, Tom. Elk actually, but yeah, he's probably sneaking bites down there. Before saying grace, too! Pastor Rob, not saying grace! What would grandpa say? We should tell everyone at church.”

Tom couldn't help but smile a little at that as he sat up. “Or Mom?”

Eliza rubbed his back. “C'mon, kiddo, let's get something to eat. Please?”

“Okay.”

He stood and followed her down the hall, looking around as he went, as if his game would be laying where he could grab it. “I ate a little while you were gone,” he said. “Those sandwiches, and a granola bar. Almost all of them were gone though. I didn't do it, did you?”

“No. It was Uncle Ralph,” Eliza said simply. “He did nothing but eat the entire time we were out there. It's no wonder he's getting a little chubby. And do you know what he said when he got into the truck? 'I'm hungry.' Ha!”

Tom gave a weak chuckle. Even that much was enough to bring a little warmth to his big sister's heart.

It was late, and Tom had gone to bed early with a belly full of venison and ice cream. Perhaps too much ice cream. Eliza suspected that it was their father's way of saying sorry for taking the game.

After dinner, Eliza returned to the garage, called her sister, exchanged some small talk, and told her what happened with Tom. Gale was strangely quiet afterward, and something in her voice made Eliza uneasy. Gale excused herself for bed.

Eliza kept working on her bow. Some time later, she heard her mother's car pull up, so she started to clean up her work space. The towel beneath her bow was covered in sawdust, so she scooped it up and dumped the contents into a bin. She cleaned her tools meticulously, put them away in their right places, then double-checked her gun safe to make sure it was locked. A few minutes was all it took to close up for the evening, then she made her way to the hall.

She heard her mother's sharp voice, then froze.

“So you played it, Rob?”

“I was just looking into it. It's a video game, June. It's not as bad as it sounds.”

“Why didn't I even know this was happening until the drive home? Why didn't you call me?”

“I didn't want to worry you, love. I looked at it though, it's not that bad—“

Eliza stepped from the hall. “Hey?” She found her father in the living room easy chair, wearing his lounge wear. June was standing beside him. The TV quietly chattered away with the news. Of course, the news was talking about Equestria Online, probably regurgitating old information a hundred times between dozens of pundits.

June's expression softened at the sight of her daughter. “Hey, honey.” She embraced Eliza briefly, and June sighed as she looked back at Rob. “Look, I'm sorry, Rob. I'm just...” she trailed off.

“You're just now hearing about it. I know. I felt the same way when I heard. Please trust me, June. I... I'm taking it seriously. We'll talk with Tom about it in the morning, I promise.”

June rubbed Rob's shoulder. “Okay.” She turned her attention to Eliza. “How was the hunt, dear? Smells like you cooked, must've went well.”

At this, Eliza smiled. She plopped down on the couch. “Biggest elk any of us ever saw,” she said proudly.

June beamed at her. “Oh, Liz! Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Mom. We didn't weigh it, but it's big. Want to see? It's out in the shed.”

“Later, hon. I need a shower... I feel just awful.” June frowned. “Problem up at the dam. Fish elevator's jammed again.”

“Oh, no,” Rob groaned.

“Yep. I'm off, the stench is killing me.” June gave Eliza another quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, then hurried off down the hall with her work bag in hand.

Rob sighed, and rubbed his tired eyes beneath his glasses. He held his personal Bible in hand, its cover open, its corners and pages frayed from heavy use.

“Dad?”

He looked up for a moment at his daughter, nodded, then looked back at the Bible.

She leaned back to get comfortable. “Dad, come on, what's up?”

“Sorry, Liz, I’m just… I had a talk with Celestia. I’m a little overwhelmed right now. This is not what I expected.” Rob sighed.

“You didn't say you were going to play it. What'd you see?”

He glanced at her over the rim of his glasses briefly. The pastor went back to sweeping pages with a fingertip. “It’s… different.”

“What’s it like? Where’s the game?” Her eyes swept around the living room in search of the tablet.

“I put it back on Tom’s desk,” said Rob. “I made an account, and Celestia…? I mean, I expected to argue with her. I don’t really know what happened, but it ended up more like a parent-teacher conference. She showed me what Tom was doing, and I got to meet some of his friends in the town, in the game. A minister too, who runs the chapel there. He’s ordained and everything.”

“How do you know?”

Her father smiled. “Because I know him, actually. Mr. Royce down in Mount Vernon. I think you’ve met him.”

Eliza paused for a moment, then recognized the name. “Oh yeah, you had him over for dinner a while back. That’s cool, Dad. He plays too? But… I mean, of course you talked to Celestia about the uploads? That’s what’s really got me worried.”

Rob’s smile faded. “I’m not convinced that the soul could… survive that. Not the way they describe it on the news, anyway. She acknowledged that faith plays a large role in how she interacts with others. I grilled her, and I have to say… she sure does know her way around scripture. She says she fears God, and I’m inclined to believe her.”

Eliza frowned. “Interpretation isn’t up to her, right? I mean, she’s… just a machine, she’s not a person.”

“No, it’s definitely not up to her. Mr. Royce and I spoke with her together, actually. She just said she’s not qualified to challenge my interpretation of the faith, so at least she understands it’s not her place. I called the church leadership in Seattle, and… well. I couldn’t get through. Busy tone.”

“I imagine people are calling in about this from everywhere.”

“Absolutely,” Rob nodded. “All over. This news just dropped today, and my guess is they’re swamped. Especially since tomorrow is Sunday. Goodness, Liz. I have no guidance from the Synod, and I don’t want to get this wrong. I have no idea what to tell people. But I have to decide on something, I don't have a choice.”

Eliza smiled reassuringly. “Well… the upload places aren't something we have to worry about. Not here, at least. Maybe ‘wait and see’ might be a good answer?”

“Thank you, Liz. I agree, it’s probably the right answer. But I don’t think it’s the answer anyone wants.”

If anyone dodged Sunday worship the next day, it would’ve been hard to tell who.

It was almost 9 AM, and their little church was packed to the brim. Rob’s black Ford Explorer was hardly visible as nearly two dozen people queued around it, waiting in line to file into the church. It was a quaint, friendly little building, inviting to the last, with a sky blue steeple and siding.

Eliza greeted as many people as she could as they entered. George stood beside her awkwardly, red-haired and smiling. Eliza introduced her boyfriend to the people of the congregation, when appropriate. Some folks knew him from around town already, which didn’t come as much surprise at all in their sleepy rural town of 700 people.

Eliza had just finished shaking hands with Eunice, the elderly town librarian, when a brown-haired girl appeared in the doorway. She moved too quickly for Eliza to recognize her immediately, and Eliza flinched as a pair of arms latched onto her. It was Gale. Both of them broke out laughing.

“Gale!” Eliza cried, as she wrested herself free. “You scared me!”

Next came Gale's boyfriend, Andy, who traded a smile and a handshake briefly with George. “Hi, George.”

“What's up, Andy?”

Gale called over Eliza's shoulder. “Hey George, you keeping this live wire under control?”

Eliza gave her a playful little shove. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ralph stepped in the doorway next, and everyone turned to greet him. “Hey kids,” he said lowly, before anyone could speak. Without waiting for a response, he made his way inside to the pews.

“Err… hey.” Eliza watched him go, then turned back to her sister. “What's wrong with him?”

Gale looked at Ralph, then just shrugged. “I have no idea. He gave me and Andy a lift, but he wouldn’t say more’n a word the whole way here.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” George said sarcastically.

“Mom's acting funny too,” said Eliza, as she glanced at her mother in the back row. “Has been since this morning.”

Gale shook her head. “It's about this game. Has to be. Everyone online is going nuts about it. But I wasn’t going to bring it up with Uncle Ralph when he’s... you know. Stewing.”

Eliza could barely hear Gale over the noise of the crowd. The four teens stepped away from the doorway and found one of the last empty spaces among the pews near the back. Tom and June were saving them a space. The rest of the pews were full of townsfolk, and they clamored loudly amongst themselves. The remainder of the room was taken up by standers a minute later.

Before this day, Eliza never had to raise her voice just to make conversation in their little church. While they waited, she spoke idly with the others, mostly sharing the news from the day before. Andy and George, who attended the same college, talked about classes. Andy spent a great deal of energy discussing his criminal justice courses with Eliza, who had been considering the course herself.

Soon, a bespectacled, tired Rob came from the doorway near the back, and stood at the dais. The room fell to silence in his presence. He placed both hands on his pulpit and looked out at the crowd.

“Good morning,” he said, with a smile.

“Good morning,” came the regular reply from all, though a little louder than usual.

“Grace, mercy, and peace from God, our Father, to you all,” Rob waved. “Whew, this is some turnout, I’ve got to say. It’s good, genuinely good, that so many of you could make it out on this lovely, clear Sunday morning. You Children of God, one and all, are each touched by the hand of our Creator. Welcome to worship, everyone.

“Now, I know we usually start out with some song. But given how many of you are here right now, I sense you’re all seeking some more... direct guidance. I’m sure many of you heard the news yesterday, but in case anyone hasn’t heard… the headlines have been rife with talk of something they’re calling digital immortality. Of people supposedly leaving their bodies behind to upload to a video game. Forever.

“It sounds absurd, doesn’t it?” He paused, and a murmur sounded throughout the room. “The TV news will sensationalize, it will stir panic. But I’m sure our lovely Concrete Herald will be a little more even keel than anything you’d see on TV,” Rob joked. That drew a light chuckle from some, Eliza included.

“I wanted to tell you what I saw last night,” Rob said, “and perhaps it will answer some of your questions. I’ll be honest with you, neighbors. I was scared when I heard the news too. I rushed right home and I took the game from my son, young Thomas. I mean, it’s a reasonable reaction, right?”

Rob nodded toward Tom in the back, and Tom, the naive little soul, waved back with a smile. Some folks smiled back at him. Eliza giggled at her little brother’s wanton enthusiasm.

“I looked at the game itself. I wanted to look this thing in the eye. It’s my responsibility, not just to my son, but to all of you. I went in with my guard up. I wasn’t going to give ground at all, I wanted to challenge this thing and demand answers. And then, in the game, I met a minister from Mount Vernon, a man I know, a man I trust. To my surprise, he was using the game to spread the Good Word of God to my son, and to others.

“He told me of the people he’s helped. And the AI, who calls herself Celestia, she showed me more. I met my son’s friends, more kids his age. Good folk, a sweet little girl and two boys. They go on adventures together through a small town just like ours. Celestia encourages them to study. The children help each other learn, and Tom’s grades have actually improved since he started playing.”

Eliza heard some of the words scattered among the commotion of the congregation, as they began to chatter. She focused to pick out some of the chatter.

“What about a proper burial?" One woman said. "They say on TV they don’t give the bodies back.”

“I’m playing with Becky," another person said. "I've never seen anything wrong with the game.”

“Some rich folks have already flown over from the U.S. and done it, it was on the news today.”

“My son’s playing too, I don’t need to tell him to study anymore either!”

“Japan’s such a backwards place anyway, it wouldn’t happen here.”

“We can sightsee from my living room. Better than traveling on my bad knee.”

Ralph’s voice piped up through them all, almost a shout. “People are still killin’ themselves, Rob. None of this good makes it right. It’s still suicide!”

“We don’t know that yet.” Rob replied, as he bristled. “The church needs time to convene and determine what this uploading means.” The crowd grew louder.

Rob raised a hand, motioning silence, and the congregation obeyed. “Please, everyone. Please! Listen.“ He paused again, letting the silence settle for effect. "I spent a lot of time reflecting last night. I hardly slept. I dug deep for the answer. I sought counsel with our Lord.” He looked around the room, his eyes flitting about. “In… in my heart of hearts, I found an answer. Right now, the uploading is so far away. Right now, I don’t think it’s so wrong for our children to play. The game itself is not hurting anyone.”

Rob looked down to his Bible, flipped to an earmarked page, and glanced at a passage for but a moment to begin. “The Lord will show us the way, and see us through. A verse,” he offered.

He recited aloud:

“John 14, as the Lord Jesus Christ said unto his disciples, in their fear of going forward into the unknown, without his direct guidance: Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

He looked directly at Ralph as he spoke. “If one’s soul is entrusted to the Lord, the Lord will provide. If one confesses their sin and accepts Jesus Christ, one has nothing to fear… even if this game is evil, as you say. The faithful shall be protected.”

Ralph rose to his feet. “No, Rob. We talked about this!”

“I said it was something to think about,” Rob clarified, casting a somewhat shocked look at his brother. “I did not say I would dismiss the game outright.”

“Maybe you should think some more, then. Because I did think about it. They said it’s only in Japan, but for a year. You know what that tells me? It’ll be somewhere else after that. Maybe here. I thought you were gonna set the record straight today, brother. This game is promising people they can live forever, but it’s not through God? So Satan’s making a Hell nest in our homes, telling our kids they can live forever, and you’re telling us it’s safe?”

Outrage and mayhem swept the room, and people argued heatedly.

Eliza could see a flicker of panic in her father as he again raised his hand. “Ralph,” he said loudly. “This is a place of worship and civil discourse. You’re using language I do not welcome here, because this is God’s House. I love you, brother, but please. Patience and faith. We need to see where this goes. We can’t be hasty.”

Ralph shouted now, which shocked Eliza. “So we let the Beast nest, then? From what you tell, now it’s tempting Tom? And now it sounds like it’s tempted you, too. People are dying as we speak! You’re the smart one, Rob, always were. But about this? Don’t be stupid, it’s the God damned Antichrist!”

“Ralph!” Rob shouted.

Eliza noticed that Gale’s eyes were wide. She looked at her uncle like he was mad.

Ralph’s outburst made the situation unsalvageable, and Rob wasn’t able to rein in the congregation anymore. The churchgoers argued and argued, ignoring Rob as he begged them to order.

Through it all, Eliza could hear most arguments for the game and in defense of her father; less still, some against the game, and in defense of Ralph.

Eliza traded looks with Tom and Gale, then George. George was cringing hard, and Eliza felt immense guilt at choosing this day of all days to bring him in. Gale lowered her head and cradled it in her palms. Andy and Eliza both placed a reassuring hand on her sister’s back, and exchanged glances with one another.

Gale's playing, Eliza realized, as she took note of Andy's look of concern.

When all was said and done, at least a fifth of the congregation had left, Ralph ahead of them all. Eliza expected to see some anger or bitterness in her uncle's eyes... but all she noticed when he passed was his look of fear.

Author's Note

[Gustavo Santaolalla - Ella]
[Eliza’s Oldies.]

🌒 ~ And thus, the wedge was driven.

1-02 – Hopscotch

Heaven's Not Enough

Part I

Chapter 2 – Hopscotch

December 20, 2013.

Skagit County. Public Land.

She hunted alone in the morning.

Eliza packed light for her trip and took the truck, which rested not too far from her position. It was cold, and the forest was coated in snow.

She dressed accordingly, scarved up and all. She wore camouflage, not blaze orange, as the current hunting period permitted. The season was archery only, so Eliza wasn't worried about being accidentally shot. She doubted most hunters would brave the chill where she was hunting anyway. Only the dedicated pros would be out in this cold.

This day, near the end of the open deer season, Eliza hunted hare for practice and for lunch. She saw no reason to take another deer, as her family was still muscling through their elk from the month previous.

She carried her white oak bow, completed and recurved, measuring finally at 75 pounds of draw weight. It was her best work yet, and she decorated and backed it with deer leather and sinew.

The wood was stained just the color she liked, the same color as her Garand's furniture. She had personalized the leather with some burned stencil designs. The bow had just the right resistances in all the right places. Even for a recurve, it drew smoothly for the duration of the draw. The release was solid and the hand shock was minor.

Through over a decade of practice, she was adept with the weapon. Her right arm was powerful in very different ways than her left, and the combination of muscle memory and strength made her a very deadly shot with bows much more powerful than even the one she was using.

In her testing so far, it had performed excellently. One rabbit already hung from her belt, a testament to the lethality of her freshly christened weapon.

She rested at the edge of a clearing by a few bushes, slowly sweeping her head left and right. She kept her ears open. A layman would hear nothing but silence, or perhaps just the wind. But Eliza was no stranger to the wild hunt, especially with a bow. She kept an arrow strung, listening to every little sound.

A branch dropping a load of snow, very close. The soft sound of the wind. A twig breaking. The soft barking of a crow, perhaps as far as 200 yards away. She listened carefully, sought a pattern. Soon, she found one. A soft pat... pat... pat... Not far. Eliza threw a glance over her shoulder, then peeked up over the snowbank at the edge of the clearing.

There, she saw a few furry, snow-caked deer. She smiled and watched them move, careful not to give her position away. But her heart ran a mile in a second. And there it was, the reason she hunted. Not for the kill, but for the thrill and excitement of stealth.

She identified them as the deer in-season; their tails were black and stubby. Eliza was certain she was downwind of them, so they wouldn’t smell her. They were a little small, all female. Very beautiful animals, too. If she were hunting them, any adult deer would’ve satisfied her. If she wasn't hunting them, admiring them satisfied her too.

They foraged, taking their time and nuzzling the snow aside to get at the tender meaty grasses beneath. As Eliza watched, a real target caught her eye: she saw a hare off to the left at the other edge of the slope. It watched the deer too, covered in snowdust and twitching its nose at the air.

Eliza’s arm tensed, and drew the string back. She slowly turned her body to line up the shot, and began to stand. Her anticipation was hearty, but she couldn't move too fast, or the deer might hear the bow creak against its backing. That would spook the hare too. She waited, waited, waited still... for the right moment. She slowly looked over shoulder back at the deer.

By chance, Eliza saw something in her peripheral vision far to the right, something that caused immediate alarm. Thirty or fourty yards away, along Eliza's treeline, a gray mass moved, low and slow. Not a coyote, she realized. Too big.

A wolf.

She gasped.

Its eyes were locked onto the three deer, not Eliza. Good.

Eliza relaxed her bowstring, and the hand went to her hip to make sure her sidearm was present. She looked behind herself again. Wolves were almost unheard of in her region. She knew they typically never attacked people, but she was still cautious. Lone animals showing their backs, human or not, were food all the same. She didn't intend to kill the predator though. That wasn't her quarry, it wasn't legal, and it wasn't her style. She liked wolves.

But the wolf changed things. She looked around. Tunnel vision on a single animal was a bad habit that she avoided when possible. She couldn't see any other wolves, but they always traveled in groups. They hadn't seen her. Or at least, she didn't think they did. She didn't want to move if they hadn't seen her, because her position was well hidden with good sightlines in every direction.

She let out a silent sigh, her breath fogging. She decided that today wasn't her day. It wouldn’t be wise to take the hare, so she'd surrender it to the wilds. But she couldn't move yet. Eliza watched the wolf, and slowly receded behind the lively bush next to her. The wolf still hungrily stared at the deer, but it waited.

Eliza looked up over the snowbank again. From the opposite side of the clearing, three wolves cut tracks through the snow, directly toward the deer. Of course, the deer spotted them, and all turned to run. They were being routed straight toward the first wolf. One of the deer leapt past the hiding wolf. The wolf launched itself up, and grabbed the deer by its slender throat. This caused it to stagger wildly, and slammed into a nearby tree. Its fellow deer scattered.

The deer was only stopped for a second. But in nature, a second of vulnerability was all it took. The rest of the wolves descended upon it before it could recover. A fifth wolf, one Eliza hadn’t seen, joined the group from behind the first one. Eliza watched the pack dig into the animal, and chose that moment of chaos to retreat slowly backwards down the treeline, bow in one hand, pistol in the other.

Eliza got a fair distance away, about 100 yards, before she looped back up the hill. She was glad she was still downwind. The wolves had been blocking her direct path back to her truck, so she gave them a wide berth.

She wasn't scared, just careful. Wolves knew humans were dangerous, and stayed far away if possible. These ones were freshly fed, probably not desperate enough to try their luck. The sound of a gunshot would get them to back off if they did, too. She wouldn't necessarily need to kill any.

On the bright side, Eliza found a shed antler on the way back to the truck. It was rather sizeable. She slung her bow to carry the antler instead. She'd find a use for it, and she could legally sell the parts from a foraged one. Eliza found it strange, though... bucks didn't usually shed antlers until later in December, and most sheddings happened in January.

Her walk to the truck completed without incident. Her bow went in first, the antler went in the bed, then she entered the vehicle. She thumped the door closed. Safe and sound. A sigh of relief left her. Strange even to her, she started to smile. She had never seen a wolf take down an animal before. Not in person, at least. It was fascinating to see nature at work. A most impressive story to tell Rob and Tom, for sure.

She removed her quiver, put it in the passenger footwell, then started the engine.

Eliza listened to the news on the way back. She had been doing that more these days, for several reasons. Obviously, she was very interested in the current events regarding uploading, or "emigrating," as the Equestria Online community was calling it. There still didn't seem to be any signs that the procedure would become legal in the US any time soon.

So far, she had heard everything there was to hear about uploads. Her father and church leadership both maintained that playing the game was safe, but uploading was taboo. A fair assessment, she decided.

Outside of uploading, there was other news that interested Eliza. There was growing news of overpopulation of prey species in her state, surrounding states, and Canada. Animals knew no borders, afterall. Her customers themselves weren’t sure about the news, even if it excited them. But if the day's experience was of any indication, it might be true. A wolf pack in Skagit County was unheard of.

Eliza would have to report the wolf sighting. Eliza considered herself a conservationist, and a large part of conservation was to keep populations from growing too large or too small.

But there weren't any stories on NPR about the population of game this day. Instead, the radio continued the trend of upload-related news. It was nothing Eliza hadn't heard before, so she pressed Play and started up her oldies disc.

Eliza thought of her uncle. Westbound Route 20 triggered the memory of the last time she had traveled back this way. The next day at church, Eliza had seen a side of Ralph that she never knew. She had never seen her uncle so driven to destroy something.

She remembered the terrified look in his eye.

"Hello, Mr. Douglas," a voice said outside the house, trembling from the cold.

"Good afternoon George, how's it going?" Robert's voice, from the living room. “Did you walk here?”

"Yes sir. Doing fine though. You?"

The older man's smile could be heard. "Good, actually. It's been a really good day today. Come on in, son, it's freezing! Your girl's in the kitchen."

Rob returned to his chair in the living room to his morning newspaper, across from Tom, who checked over his homework on the coffee table. Eliza was in the kitchen, and stopped preparing the hare to clean her hands. George, dressed for the cold in a thick white jacket, made his way over to her.

Eliza turned to greet him, and beamed. "Hey G, what's up?"

"Not too much, what's up with you?"

She shrugged. "Just got home, back from a hunt." She put down her freshly rinsed knife and gave him a kiss.

He held her. "Yeah, I saw you drive by my aunt's place, s'why I came over. Is that a rabbit?"

“Yep! Got it today. I was about to get a second one, but a wolf pack ran through and took a deer nearby. Pretty sure the rabbit ran, but pffh. Who cares? Those wolves were cool."

"Oh, wow. Wolves, huh? You were alone? In this snow?"

"Nope," she motioned to her handgun holster, still on her hip. "I had my Springfield with me. I'm fine, really. Wolves don't go for people, but most people don't get between them and a meal. Wasn't too scary."

"That's good. Well, I'm glad you're safe." George gave her a little squeeze, and Eliza felt butterflies in her stomach at his touch. "Hey, you want to head on down to Sedro with me?"

"Why, going shopping?"

"There's a new Thai food place I wanted to try."

She smiled up at him. It took her an instant to decide. "Sure, I guess the rabbit can wait til tomorrow. Let me go put my stuff away."

"Alright, make it quick.” He smiled back, and swatted Eliza’s arm playfully as she left the kitchen.

“Yes sir,” she purred.

George returned to the living room, and Eliza listened to the sound of his and Tom’s voice from across the house as she got ready.

For a new restaurant, it was dingy, but George insisted that added to the charm. The place was packed, and George said they’d been hyping the place up for a while before it opened. Upon entering the warmth of the building, the spicy scent of the food hit Eliza like a brick. She briefly coughed a few times.

George chuckled. "Smells good, right?"

"Y-y-... yeah, great. Just g-gonna..." She coughed. "It's gonna kill me, is all," she laughed.

Once seated, they talked about school, work, and the hunting trip while they waited for their food. Eliza got very talkative when George asked about the hunt. She knew George wasn't particularly interested in animal conservation, and probably didn't understand what she was talking about half the time, but George assured her that he appreciated her passion all the same. She loved the dreamy way he looked at her when she rambled.

"Most of the clients I've spoken to for the last month have been wondering whether they're going to loosen the hunting restrictions even more next year. It's very possible, if what they're saying is true. I heard a story on NPR, a game warden was saying they're seeing more and more reported kills, but still, the population is floating despite the cull... or even soaring, in some places. They aren't sure what the cause is, because predator sightings are still steady too. I mean, heck, I saw some wolves down a doe today, so it's definitely happening. Anyway, once the ecological survey is finished for the season, I'm sure they'll make a decision for population control."

"You know," George said, with that lazy, sappy smile she loved, "the college has some conservation programs. You ever consider taking Andy's advice? Want to turn this energy into a career? You can hang out with us between classes, carpool over and all that."

"I just might," she agreed. "Been looking over the college website, actually. I like what I'm doing now, but I might apply soon. I'm just wondering where I'd even find the time for both school and work."

"You can take your work with you. There's nothing stopping you from taking your bows on the road, right? And think, it'll expand your business a bit. I'm sure there's folks in Mount Vernon who'd appreciate your work."

"Not as much as folks in Concrete or Rockport. It’s my home, you know? My town means a lot to me."

"Oh, Rockport's just a tiny little town," he said dismissively.

Eliza wagged her fork at him in mock threat. "They're our neighbors, mister. Watch it. There's only one of me, George. I can't 'expand' my business, I'm making as many bows as I can with the hands I've got."

"You make more than just bows," he countered. "You do specialty stuff. It's quaint, and that's what makes it interesting."

She rolled her eyes. "Quaint? Gee, thanks. Next you'll be telling me to start an Etsy."

"Well, if the boot fits, darlin'..." George grinned.

“You’re such a dork.”

The food arrived. A server all but dumped a few plates onto the table, loaded high with food. The smell made Eliza salivate. And then cough. But mostly salivate. Then cough. Her order consisted of spicy noodles of some kind, and the plate gave off a pleasant radiating heat as it steamed. George had ordered it for her.

They both dug in for a minute. Eliza put her fork down to sip her iced tea, and smiled. "S'good."

"Told you!" George scooped another round of noodles into his face.

While eating, Eliza remembered something. "Hey, when I was getting ready, I heard you talking to Tom?"

"Yeah, was just wondering how he was doing," George replied, and he took a swig of his soda.

"Since when did you start checking in on my little brother?"

He smirked. "I can’t be friends with the whole family?"

“Didn’t say that, just, it’s… different. That's all.”

George put his fork down, sighing softly. "Uh… alright. Guess I'll fess up. The school got some donated electronics. Some of it was uh. You know. Entertainment stuff."

"Entertainment stuff?"

"Games."

She put two and two together. It involved her brother, so it could only mean one thing. "Someone donated... what, ponypads?"

"Yeah, Eliza."

Eliza couldn’t hide her smirk. “You’re embarrassed to tell me you’re playing a My Little Pony game.”

"Um... yeah.” He let out a nervous chuckle. "You don't miss a trick, do you? Yeah, they gave them out to certain classes. Mine got some."

"You've been playing it too?"

“I just… I know it’s just a silly kid game, and I know you don’t want to play. But I like it, Liz. Been playing it for a few weeks now, and it's actually kinda impressive. And there's no way in a million years the US would even consider legalizing uploads. Japan is a very different place."

"I’m just confused. What does a nurse need with a ponypad?"

George shrugged. "Turns out it's great for medical diagnosis and patient sitting. They're using them in emergency rooms to explain procedures. Really great at placating patients too, believe it or not. Really cool stuff. And it's free, you know? The school isn't going to, uh... look a gift horse in the mouth.” He grinned. “But to answer your question, I ran into one of Tom’s friends in the game. She wanted me to check on his homework."

"His friend asked you to do that? That's considerate."

“They won’t do anything but help him finish it until he’s done,” George said. “She said she'd be busy after school today. Different time zones, y'know. So I promised I'd nag him for 'em.”

Eliza couldn’t answer for a moment, a little bit blown away by how interconnected the game seemed. The idea that the game was facilitating all of this cooperation both inside and outside of the game world was starting to impress her. “That’s… actually kind of cool of them to help him. Homework is cool again, I guess." She smirked.

"They’re really good kids, hon. They showed me around their town in the game, it's so much like Concrete. It's no wonder Tom fell in love with it. He just fit right in and the kids treat him right."

Eliza looked down at her plate, frowning as she pushed around her food with a fork. "You know, you could’ve told me you were playing. You didn’t need to dance around it. I don’t think you’re a little girl or anything."

"I just thought..."

Eliza looked up at him, smirking again. “You thought I'd laugh at you?"

George looked downcast and shy, as he rubbed at his neck. "Yeah."

"Come on, George. You know me better than that."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Eliza said, shaking her head with a chuckle. “It’s a little funny, but only because you're shy about it. You're fine, George. I don't think any less of you. Couldn't, really."

Eliza thought about the kneejerk reaction in Concrete. Many parents who confiscated the game out of fear had given the game back, as her father did. Some parents even started playing it themselves, to join their kids. The tension had eased, mostly. Most people, Eliza included, started to see that a cute My Little Pony kids game wasn't the end of the world.

George shyly rubbed his elbow. "Hey. Maybe we could play it together?”

“Uh. You know I don’t really do video games, right?” She took a bite of noodles.

“Oh, it’s not so bad, Liz. It's less of a game sometimes, more like a social platform. It’s something for us both to do, you know? Plus, Tom’s friends have been wanting to meet his awesome big sister.”

Eliza swallowed her food. “Wuh? They ask about me?”

"Yep. Apparently, you’re all Tom talks about. They’d love to meet you."

"Wh-what? Oh, I uh..." She felt her cheeks grow warm, and Eliza put her fork down to swallow the remaining food in her mouth. “I’m uh, flattered. But why didn’t he introduce me himself?”

George smiled. “Believe it or not? He’s afraid you’d laugh at him too."

Eliza coughed as the spicy aroma got caught in her nose, which was starting to run. “Just like you, huh? Well. Gosh. I mean, I don’t know. Just... Dad, Uncle Ralph."

George sighed. "There's nothing wrong with enjoying something, Liz. You’ve gotta make some time for yourself now and then."

“What? I make plenty time for myself.” She raised her right hand to display her callused string fingers. “I just came back from a hunt, you goof. But honestly, what’s got me worried about the game is… um, the uploading thing still scares me a little bit.”

"Well," George shrugged. "Like I said. Japan's a long way off."

"I... I guess you're right. I just wish my uncle could see things that way. My uncle found out Gale's been playing too, and he gave her hell the other day."

George shook his head. “I’m sorry, Liz, but your uncle is an asshole. Cutting off Gale, you, your dad? Ralph is being paranoid.”

"It's just creepy, knowing you might run into someone's ghost in the game. My uncle’s got some legitimate issues with uploading, even if he is being a pest."

“He’s got some issues, alright,” George said callously.

“George.” She glowered. “He’s still my uncle.”

George winced. “Sorry, Liz.”

“I mean, he’s being a bit extreme, but… my uncle's not a bad guy. The town trusts him. And whether they like it or not, my parents feel the same way he does, on some level. Look, George, I..." she trailed off, and huffed.

George wore a look of concern. "What?"

"It’s creepy. I’m thinking of like, people tied up to a wall like, The Matrix, or something. Cables coming out of their heads. Only, in The Matrix, people still have their bodies. With this? People’s bodies die. Even if it works the way they say it does, how can someone go to Heaven if they’re trapped in a computer?"

“Maybe you could ask Celestia about it?” George asked hopefully.

Eliza sighed. “She’s just an AI. I doubt she’d be any sort of help about the immortal soul. And if I’m being honest, that’s more Dad’s area. I’m not really an expert on it, and she’s probably smart enough to make me feel like an idiot.”

“Try her, Eliza. She's real nice, I promise. She won’t talk down to you or anything. Most everyone who plays talks to her a little bit, but some more than others. I talk to her pretty often myself. For someone who isn’t human, she's probably the nicest 'person' I've ever met. A real good friend, too."

“But, she watches everyone who plays. She’s always on. Friends don't do that. Isn’t that a little creepy to you?”

George shrugged. "That's the future, hon. The world was going this way anyway, with how data collection has been running wild. If anything, I'm glad the first real AI isn't going Terminator on us."

"Yet." She grinned.

George grinned back. "Oh, come on, Liz. You wouldn't say that if you met her. I’m surprised you’ve gone so long without saying so much as a word to her.”

“Well." Eliza took another bite of noodles. "I'll think about it."

She did more than just think about it.

Tom always left his ponypad in his room whenever he went to school, fearful that it would be confiscated. This suited Eliza just fine, because her morbid curiosity was suddenly a flame sparked to life. After George dropped her off, she made her way directly to her brother's room, and found the sky blue ponypad connected to its charger, laying on the bed. It had a rainbow lightning bolt on the side, and the power light slowly pulsed.

Tom had previously offered several times to let Eliza borrow it to play when he was away, and so she didn't see anything wrong with taking him up on that offer. With the device in hand, she returned to the living room and indulged in a little leap onto the couch. Eliza planted her butt on the middle, and her head on the pillow, landing in one smooth motion. She bounced somewhat on the cushion. It was something her mother would be very cross about had she seen Eliza do it, but she already felt like she was doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing.

The ponypad powered on quickly, and was already playing the My Little Pony theme. Eliza didn't remember a thing from the show that she watched when she was little, but part of the tune was familiar and easy to remember. The screen itself had an out-of-focus scrolling background of a village, with the Equestria Online logo imposed over it in bright pink letters. And beneath it:

[TAP TO BEGIN!]

The words pulsed slowly. With a little tap to the screen, the game played a flourishing series of tones, then the title screen faded to black. A character select appeared with different music. It was some upbeat and charming light guitar tune. Eliza quickly chose a few options to get started. It was at this moment that she noticed the little black camera viewpoint at the top of the pad.

“Hi, Celestia,” she said half-heartedly, not really expecting an answer.

Comically, Celestia’s head popped into frame from the left, waving a hoof. “Hello there!”

“Ahh!” Eliza jolted with sudden surprise, nearly dropping the ponypad.

Celestia giggled. “I'm sorry, but I simply couldn't resist. Greetings! It's so good to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you already from your brother."

"Um, hi. It's okay, it was... well, I don't know what else I expected. But I hope everything you've heard about me is good."

“I assure you, it is. Welcome to Equestria Online, my little pony. I’m very excited to see what kind of pony you will become. Would you like some help creating your character?"

Eliza looked over the character creator screen behind Celestia, and chewed her lip. "Uh, not right now. I'll let you know if I get stuck. This looks easy enough."

"Very well. I'm a word away, whenever you need me."

"Thanks!"

Celestia smiled, nodded politely, and stepped back out of frame.

Eliza scanned through the options, but eventually decided that simplicity was probably best. She thought of the wolves she'd seen earlier that day, allowed herself a little chuckle of inspiration, and decided to make it look as much like a wolf as she could manage. In the end, she made a gray earth pony with a shaggy tail and mane that veiled her deep green eyes. The pony wore a disarming, affable smile. Eliza tapped Accept, and the screen faded to black again. The music stopped, then the scene loaded.

Her pony awoke in a sunny rainforest, looking around at her surroundings. She slowly stood from the circular soil depression it laid in. There was a serene, peaceful tune playing, and the graphics were impressive; the trees glistened from decent rains, the grass flowed gently in the wind, and mosses bloomed as far as the eye could see in various patches. There also appeared to be a small brook along a dirt footpath.

"Hello," said a soothing voice. The device's speakers were exceptional with positional audio, as Eliza could tell it came from her pony's left. Her pony turned.

The new pony before her was a dusky shade of navy blue, and she had a flowing mane of stars. She wore a large, black moon-encrusted gorget and tiara, and had a smooth unicorn's horn. She had two large wings, both extended, and the pony radiated magnificence and elegance. Her wings flapped twice, then folded.

The pony bowed deeply toward Eliza, one front hoof raising slightly. "Greetings, and good welcome to you, newcomer. I am Princess Luna." As she raised her head, she smiled warmly. "My sister told me I would find you here."

Eliza was temporarily at a loss for words. "Um... your sister?"

"Princess Celestia. We are not far from my old home, an abandoned castle deep in the Everfree Forest. I was perusing the old library there when she came to me and notified me of your arrival. You lack any discernible cutie mark." As if in explanation, Luna peered around Eliza's pony and stared directly at her side. "So unless the mark of your special talent is to be gray, I would assume you have recently arrived." She smirked.

Eliza knew little about cutie marks, but knew enough to know she was being teased. "Oh, you're real funny," Eliza laughed.

Luna's raised an eyebrow, her smirk shifting slightly into bemusement. "Beg pardon?"

"Uh, heh. I just didn't expect snark from royalty."

At this, Luna laughed outright. "And I did not expect such glibness from a commoner!"

"I guess I just don't know any better yet," Eliza replied, with a grin. "I really didn't mean anything by it though."

Luna paced past the screen, toward the path along the brook, and Eliza's pony followed her with her gaze. "I take no offense. Besides, if your special talent was to be gray, your response would have been much less interesting, I assure you. In any event, I have come to offer you any aid you might need."

Something about Luna was disarming. Compared to Celestia, who was slightly unnerving for whatever reason, Eliza found Luna to be outright playful, and much more approachable. "Sure, I guess. I don't know the first thing about this place. What is there to do here?" she asked.

"Much," Luna said with a nod. "Though you seem to be getting ahead of yourself. Let's focus on walking first. Foalsteps, hm?"

Luna gave Eliza a brief explanation of the controls, and it took her no time at all to zip around at a gallop. Eliza encountered none of the touchscreen issues she had with her cell phone, such as selections being sometimes incorrect or spazzing out. The ponypad was exceptionally good at reading her inputs, and it never did anything she didn't want to do.

When she was ready, Eliza moved forward along the path, with Luna keeping pace with her. The path wound left and right through the woods until it abruptly ended, though the brook continued. The woods themselves seemed to stretch outward in every direction, broken by natural looking hills.

These woods were beautiful, with nuance and life, green and verdant, everything shifting in flowing waves of wind. Eliza could even see birds flitting about between the trees. In the far distance, several ghostly blue shimmers could be seen, but whenever Eliza tried to focus on them, they seemed to smoothly fade away.

"What are those?" she asked. "The blue lights over there."

Luna looked down at Eliza and smiled slyly. "A mystery to uncover, in time."

As Eliza's pony moved forward, the music slowly faded out to be replaced with the soft warbling of robins and the occasional sound of a woodpecker. The forest, dynamic and realistic, went on seemingly forever, and it seemed to loosely imitate the Pacific Northwest, but with enough of its own unique ecology to keep Eliza guessing. She admired the curve of the valley's hills and the incredible accuracy portrayed, even in that cartoony style. Every step left an indelible mark on the grass and dirt.

She crossed a small wood bridge over the returning brook, and then saw a hillside clearing ahead. As her pony approached the meadow, it began to rain. The sounds were crisp, the colors were vibrant. The bowyer in her was pleasantly surprised that she could accurately determine the species of the surrounding trees, even in this colorful pastel world, and could even make out at a glance which might make for great or horrible longbows.

She roamed the meadow. It was huge, almost a field in its own right. She carefully explored the ground as she walked, leaving a trail in the white and violet flowers, as Luna followed.

"You come from a world much unlike our own, I am told," Luna said, in her smooth and rich voice that seemed to hold much wisdom beyond her youthful appearance.

"It's actually quite... similar, so far. I'm a little moved by how real it all seems. It's so detailed."

"To those of us who live here," Luna said, "This is the real. For us, the place you hail from is merely another plane of reality; yours is thus a dimension yet unseen by our kind until very recently. That is how we interpret your kind, and your visitation."

"And... how did it start, then? From your point of view?"

"The arrival of your kind?"

Eliza nodded, and realized her pony nodded as well. That was an overwhelmingly incredible effect, and she hardly noticed any delay between her own nod and the game's interpretation of it.

Luna answered. "My sister, bless her, opened the way. A spell. Powerful magics, with magnanimous purpose. I am told that her opening of the way is not unlike the method by which I enter the dream realm; one of my royal duties as Princess is to patrol the dreams of my subjects, to dispel nightmares. To hear Sister tell it, her dimensional rift allows her to dispel the troubles of your waking hours." Luna looked downward briefly, apparently in thought. "I find myself drawn to that, if for no other reason than mere curiosity, and similar purpose to my own. And your kind, thus far, have each fascinated me."

"Not many nightmares in my life, I guess," Eliza said, as her pony continued across the meadow at her direction. "Just... for most of us, this place is probably just escapism."

Luna perked up at that. "Escapism? Escaping from what, precisely?"

"Stress, maybe," Eliza said. "Work, maybe. Things are complicated here, sometimes, and something like this is used to relax. I don't usually play games much, but folks I know want to play here. Some are my family, too. So you might say I'm as curious about your kind as you are of us."

"Common ground between us, then. Mutual discovery is very noble and productive ground for discourse. I welcome thee."

Eliza smiled. "Thanks, Luna."

Eliza found a trinket in the grass: a small leather necklace with a luminescent green crystal hanging from it. With a tap of the screen, she made her pony pick it up.

Luna looked at the object approvingly. “A charm. Quite beautiful, is it not?”

“Yeah. What does it do?”

Luna snorted. "It is a necklace, my dear. You wear it."

"Oh." Eliza was amused by the absurd simplicity of it, and tapped the necklace again. Her pony put it on. "Bit strange to be out here."

Something caught her eye in the distance, and she panned the camera up to look at the mountainous skyline, beyond the clouds. A pegasus was silhouetted against it, and flew lazily through the valley. The pegasus appeared to notice Luna and Eliza, and turned their way.

As the pegasus approached, Luna took notice. “Oh, company. Interesting, I recognize this pony. If I remember correctly, her name is East Circle.”

That name was familiar to Eliza. "I... I think that's one of my brother's friends."

"Oh? Is your brother that blue little troublemaker who is constantly by her side? They've stumbled into my study once or twice, in the old castle." Luna shrugged. "They are such adorable foals, if somewhat rambunctious."

Eliza chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds like my brother alright."

"The Everfree Forest isn't for the faint of heart, but alas... they are both brave beyond their tender years."

The violet pegasus landed before them at a gallop, slowing to a graceful trot before stopping just a few yards from Eliza. She was young and lanky, a little bit smaller than Eliza’s pony. She had a brown mane, a beautiful span of fluffy feathers, and an apparently kind disposition. An image of a compass laid upon each hind leg, with only the eastern quadrant slice filled in.

“Hello, Princess Luna! Um, it's okay if I come say hi, right?" She lowered her ears shyly.

Luna smiled. "Goodness, my dear subject, of course it is. You needn't ask. How have you been?"

"Good! Practicing flying moves, actually! Flying low and fast."

"Careful, young one. You may strike a tree."

East Circle nodded fervently. "I know! I stay away from branches. Just fields for now! Who's your friend here? Someone new?"

Luna cast a glance and a grin at Eliza. "Indeed. One of your close friends is very fond of her, in fact. A certain blue pegasus, if I'm not mistaken."

A flicker of consternation appeared on East's face, but that quickly dispelled, giving way to excitement. "Oh my gosh, are you Blue Sky's other big sister?" The filly started to bounce. "Ooh! Ooh! I’m so excited to meet you! Blue talks about you like, all the time! I think he even looks up to you a little bit. I'm a big sister myself, I know the feeling. But uh… yeah!” East pawed the ground with a hoof, suddenly shy again and glancing at Luna's hooves.

Eliza couldn’t stop smiling at how adorable the filly was. “Good to meet you too, little thing. How old are you, East?" Eliza leaned back against one of the couch arms and got a little more comfortable. Interestingly, her pony seemed to mimic her laziness, choosing to sit down in the grass, curling her scruffy tail neatly along her side.

"Fourteen." East sat too. "I know I'm a little older than your brother, I hope that's okay. How old are you?"

"I’m nineteen."

“Cool! You're a real big sister then! You gonna go to Canterlot to get your pony name soon? I can't wait to see what name Princess Celestia gives you!"

"All new ponies receive their name from Princess Celestia," Luna explained to Eliza, and then cast a glance down at East. "When the time is right, and only when they are ready."

East took her meaning well. "Oh. Sorry. I don't mean to push! Just excited! It was cool, when Blue got his name we were flying all around the castle and like, the guards were a liiiittle not too happy about that, but Princess Celestia let us do it so they left us alone. Until we hung from the chandelier, then it was time for us to go, she said!"

"That," Luna said, "is a very valuable chandelier. It was a political gift from the Dragon Nation."

"I'm sorry! Sorry!" East bowed several times.

Luna smiled. "Don't be. I've never liked it. Too much sand glass, not enough obsidian."

"Oh." East grinned.

Luna turned to Eliza. "If you'd like, we could spend some more time here in the forest. Perhaps I could show you the old castle of my youth? I have no urgent matters to attend to at the moment; today is, as they say in the modern vernacular, an 'off' day, for me."

"That sounds cool. I have some t—" Eliza stopped, and her words caught in her throat as she heard a sound in her home that instantly set her on edge. Something was wrong.

Down the hall, long before she heard the words, she could hear the bitter voices of her mother and sister, both quiet and hushed, but very intense. It sounded terribly like an argument.

"Is everything alright?" Luna asked. Eliza drew her eyes away from the hallway and looked down at the ponypad again. Luna had her head tilted in concern.

"Uh, actually, Luna... not right now. I need to go. Sorry, something came up."

"Oh. Very well, then. We'll see you again soon, I hope?"

Eliza flashed a weak smile. "Sure," she whispered, then powered the device off. She stood, entered the hall, and stopped near her sister's room. Even though she had correctly guessed at the topic of the conversation, Eliza still cringed as she heard it confirmed.

"I've been playing, Mom! I'm an adult now, I can do what I want!"

"You're an adult, but this game isn't just a game. It's something else. They're not giving the bodies back! They're not letting families bury their dead! Gale, this is more than just—"

"It's not the Devil. You and Uncle Ralph are losing your minds over this. Dad says it's okay, it's okay! He'd know!"

June groaned. "Your father doesn't know what to think, Gale. He's wrong about this, because he's afraid to commit to a side. He has you and Tom to consider, and then me, Ralph, and Eliza. And bless his heart, he's choosing to do nothing because that's easier!"

"You're thinking about it like sides now? That's not what this is. God, I'm so sick of this. You all need to lay off. I'm not ditching my friends, Mom! I bought it with my own money, I'll play it if I want!"

"We don't even know whether it's dangerous."

"I don't think it's dangerous," Gale said defensively. "Give it three minutes and you'll see. These other players aren't going to reach through the screen and hurt me, are they? They aren't dragging me off to Japan."

"I'm just wondering, Gale." June's voice warbled sadly, just once, veiled in anger.

"Wondering what?"

"Thousands of people walk into these clinics every day. Something convinced people with jobs and families to leave their homes and let themselves be killed. No one ever gets a body back. What gets them to throw away their lives like that? Do they all like the game like you kids do?"

Eliza winced, peeking in. She saw her mother standing just inside the doorframe, with her arms crossed.

June continued. "I just don't think any sane person would just give everything up like that. All it costs them is a little money. No effort needed, no good deeds. No God. Digital immortality, forever. Ascension not included, sign on the dotted line. Doesn't it sound a little too easy? What's making them jump?"

Gale's voice swelled to a shout, and Eliza had never heard anyone speak to their mother in such a way before.

"So you think I'm going to go do it?! You know what?! Maybe I should. Maybe it'll get me away from this bullshit."

June spluttered. "Excuse me? I don't care how old you are, you do not talk to me like that."

"Get out of my room!" Something banged against the wall; Gale must have thrown something. Eliza jumped, and she quickly took two steps back from the doorway. She realized she was still holding the ponypad, and swiftly hid it behind her back just as her mother stormed out. June nearly ran into her.

Their eyes met briefly as June halted. Eliza saw tears and terror in June's frustrated face. Then, just as quickly as June appeared, she was gone. She dipped into Tom's room, and Eliza could hear the sound of drawers being pulled back, followed by an exasperated grunt of anger. June reappeared in the hallway, and then made her way out the front door. She slammed it. Her car started, and left.

Eliza stood there, at a loss. She wanted to say something, anything, to her sister. She gingerly peeked around the corner. Gale was sobbing into her pillow, and she didn't see Eliza. "Abby?" she breathed.

Gale looked up, met eyes with her, and scowled. "Leave me the fuck alone! Close the door!"

"Abby, please, I don't—"

"Now, Liz! Screw off!"

Eliza did as her sister asked, and closed the door slowly, hesitantly, with a soft click. She leaned into Tom's room, put the ponypad into Tom's desk drawer where her mother had doubtlessly already checked, and returned to the hall in front of Gale's door. She pressed her back to the wall and slid down to sit, resigning to watch the door for as long as she could manage. She listened to Gale cry; she let herself feel it, immersed herself in her sister's grief, because she could do nothing else to show her support. It wasn't long before Eliza could hear quiet whispers from inside.

Gale shouted suddenly. "I don't want to talk to you!"

At first, Eliza wasn't sure whether the statement was directed at her or not, but the whispering stopped.

Eliza hoped her sister would come out and seek her for comfort, or even try to just leave the house.

But Gale didn't do either of those things. Eliza tried to gain the courage to try and approach her sister again. She didn't know whether she would help or hurt the situation, and that fear kept her on a knife's edge. "Gale," she tried again, with an exhausted sound. "Sis, can I please come in? I just want to... listen."

"Go away, Liz!"

Eliza tried to will up some magic words that would comfort her sister, but... nothing. She stood, and tried to force herself to speak, but the willpower wouldn't come. She lowered her hand, clenched her fist, and shambled off to the garage to do something – anything – to feel less like she was doing nothing.

Eliza saw the antler she found that morning laying on her workbench. She scooped up a handsaw and threw herself onto her stool. With a death grip, she grasped the antler and started to saw into it. The dust stunk, and stung her nostrils. Her jaw clenched with directionless anger. Her greatest fear was to point that anger at anyone she might care for.

A difficult task, though. That, she could be angry at.

Author's Note

[Gustavo Santaolalla - Endless Flight]

🌒 ~ So began the most meaningful relationship of my life.

At present, wolf populations are limited to eastern Skagit Valley, mostly due to a higher density of hunters and human population. For those of you without an ecological background, there are quite a few reasons a pack might find its way out of its base territory, however. Diminishing food, of course, being one of them.

1-03 – Sugar Song

Heaven's Not Enough

Part I

Chapter 3 – Sugar Song

December 24, 2013.

Concrete, WA. Christmas Eve.

It had been a few days. Eliza hadn't seen Gale at all since her argument with their mother.

Andy's house sat south of the river that bisected Concrete. Like many homes in town, Andy didn't have a paved driveway, just a little dirt path that led to a garage. Eliza pulled her Tacoma up the frosted dirt, and she watched the headlights reflect off the dark windows. She killed the engine and lights, frowned in distress at the sight of the darkness inside, and just sat for a moment. The night was clear, but cold, only slightly below freezing. Eliza basked in the leftover warmth from the heater for a while.

She looked down at her phone again, and stared at the texts from earlier.

You: Sis? You okay? Where are you?
Gale: I’m spending Christmas with Andy's family this year Liz. I’m sorry
You: Ok. Let me know if you need anything?
Gale: Ok

Her gaze returned to the house. For Christmas, Eliza expected a porch light, at least. The dull multicolor lights of the tree inside were otherwise wreathed in near darkness.

She looked at the passenger side seat. In it sat a plate, covered in tin foil, and inside was a helping of turkey from supper that evening. She figured Andy's family probably would've fed Gale already, but Gale liked drumsticks. Gale always got a drumstick. Always. It was practically tradition.

Beside the plate sat a small antler whittling. It was a pony in profile, and it matched Princess Luna's character design as best that Eliza could remember. She hadn't seen many other ponies, so she went with what she knew.

She checked her watch. 7:57 PM. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that the chimney was oozing smoke. She gathered up the food and the sculpture, left her truck, and trudged up the frozen dirt path to the front door. When she reached the screen door, she pulled it open awkwardly with one finger. The food plate was cradled precariously atop her other arm. Once past the screen, she knocked firmly on the door. Her breath crystallized heavily in the cold as the screen door closed against her back.

After no answer, she knocked a little more firmly, tapping with her boot this time. Just as she was about to give up and go back home, the porch light flickered on for a few seconds, then quickly extinguished.

"Go away," called a voice from the other side of the door, cracking and raspy like a wood file.

"Gale?" She could almost physically feel the strain in Gale’s voice, and all the pain besides. "Is Andy here?"

"He’s not! I don't want another lecture! Leave me alone!" The door banged from the inside. Eliza jumped. Gale shouted, "Merry Christmas!"

And then silence.

"I brought you a drumstick," Eliza pleaded, as she leaned on the door. "Pleaaase, Gale. I’m not here to lecture you. Why would I do that? I just wanted to see my sister. Honest. I'm not leaving until you open up. It's cold out here..."

More silence.

Eliza spoke softly, and half expected her words would not be heard. She was almost entirely certain that Gale had gone away. "I brought you a gift too. Please?" No reply. "I love you."

A soft, inaudible female voice came from the other side of the door, one that wasn’t Gale’s. Gale said something back to it at length, but Eliza couldn't make it out.

"Is there someone else in there?" Eliza asked. "Gale?"

Then suddenly, Eliza heard the deadbolt unlock, and she stepped back. Eliza smiled hopefully, ready to greet her sister... but then saw her state. The word disheveled wasn't even remotely adequate. Gale's brown hair was wiry and unkempt. Her eyes looked bloodshot and puffy, her cheeks were wet. She looked weak.

"Come on in," Gale moaned pathetically. "I'm so sorry..."

Eliza stepped in and quickly found a counter to put the food down on. She snagged the pony sculpture from the top of it and looked Gale up and down, aghast. "Oh, Abby..." Eliza threw her arms around her sister and hugged her close, ignoring the slightly musty odor. "You've got nothing to apologize for. I just missed you... you weren't at dinner tonight. I was worried."

"I missed you too, Eliza. I'm sorry. I shouldn't've said those things to you the other day, I didn't mean it," she sniffed. "I just... I wanted to be left alone."

"I knew you didn't mean it, don't worry about it. Let's sit, come on." Eliza quickly guided Gale to the couch. "Where's Andy?"

Gale shook her head, sniffled, and sat on the couch. "He doesn't know I'm here. He went with his parents over to Rockport yesterday, to stay with his grandparents. They're doing Christmas over there."

"Why didn't you tell me the truth, Gale?"

"I just wanted to be alone. I didn't know where else to go. I had a key, and, and..." She looked at the living room fireplace, and Eliza's gaze followed. The port glowed and crackled quietly.

"It's cold everywhere else."

"Yeah."

Eliza noticed a pink ponypad beside Gale, and its screen was on. Eliza brushed it aside to make room for herself. "C'mere." She hugged Gale as she sat beside her. "Look." Eliza lifted the Princess Luna sculpture at eye level with one hand. In the dim flicker of the fireplace, the antler carving looked quite beautiful in profile. “I made this for you. It’s Princess Luna, see?”

Gale took it in her trembling hands. Eliza was certain Gale would burst into tears at any moment... and a moment later, Gale did. She buried her head into Eliza's chest and simply sobbed aloud. "First mom, now Andy. Liz, I'm so scared..."

"Andy? Oh, no. What did he say, Gale?"

"I don't... I don't know what I..."

Eliza rubbed her back. "Shh... please, Abby... it's okay. I'm here. You still got me, right? You're still my favorite sister."

They sat like that for a while. Gale wept and dampened Eliza's jacket. Eliza just held her, feeling terrible. She pressed her cheek to Gale's forehead, and saw the ponypad again. Gale's pony was laying in the middle of a field, all alone beneath a beautiful starry sky.

"It kills me to see you like this, sis," Eliza whispered. "You don't deserve to hurt like this. You need to tell me what Andy said."

Gale hiccoughed, and pressed herself tightly against Eliza's side. She straightened up. "He said he's scared, because I talk about my friends, like... like they're real. I don't know why he doesn't see they're real people. They are real. I know them, they're not fake. They have lives, and friends, and families."

Eliza knew Andy well enough to know he wasn't completely off the handle when he was worried about something, and that he usually thought things through before he said them, but still. Eliza needed to ask, as she leaned her head against Gale's. "He didn't break up with you, did he?"

Gale shook her head. "No, Liz. He's just... he keeps bugging me about the game. Every time I talk about my friends there, he doesn't want to talk about it. He said I'm lost in it."

"Do you want me to talk to him about it, then? Gosh we've known him since grade school, he'll listen to me. Or else."

Again, Gale shook her head. "Please, don't. I just don't want to argue with anyone anymore. It's all I've been doing since people found out I've been playing. Gina, from work, she knows. She gives me looks. Looks at me like I'm crazy... called me a horsefu—..." Gale trailed off, then frowned. "Like, she forgets I'm with Andy. And she's not the only one who talks to me like that."

"Gale, Gina's a witch." Eliza sighed. "Don't pay her any mind. She's always been nuts."

Gale held the Luna sculpture in her lap and looked it over. "It's a good gift. Th-thank you. It looks just like her. I thought you hated this pony stuff."

"I played it a little the other day. Believe it or not, I was actually playing when mom decided to go off on you. I'd never treat you like that. Don't you know, I only want you to be happy?"

Eliza gave her time to think. Gale worked her jaw a few times... then, strangely, she smiled and chuckled through the tears. "I'm your only sister," she mewled.

"What?"

"I just realized you said I'm your favorite sister. I'm your only sister."

Eliza chuckled too. "Yeah. You got me. I still love you though, you goof."

Soon, Gale calmed down enough to go microwave and eat the drumstick. They talked for some time about Eliza's acceptance of the pony phenomenon. As Eliza shared her first experience with the game, Gale’s face was one of wonderment. "It's just not like you," Gale whispered. "It's a video game. I thought you didn't play video games."

"I was curious," Eliza said, with a shrug. "It honestly wasn't that bad. Luna was... really nice. It was only for a few minutes, but she really seemed interested in me."

"She and I talk a bit too. But you know, she's... royalty. Hey, um. Since you're playing, maybe you can meet my friends? I was afraid to let them see me crying, but now you're here. I feel a little better now."

"Hey, sure sis."

Eliza watched the screen as Gale walked her pony, named Sugar Song, back into town. Eliza's big gray pony soon joined her. She saw some more of those ghostly blue shimmers far off at the edge of the forest, and she remembered Luna's playful deflection about what they were. At closer inspection, Eliza noticed they were slightly deer-like in shape, and looked quite beautiful in the moonlight.

"Hey Gale, what're those?"

"Huh?"

Eliza pointed. "Those things, the blue things."

"Oh." Gale smiled a little. "Those are forest spirits. They've got a name, the deerfolk call 'em something, but I forgot. Golden Glow says they're good for growing food, or something."

"Golden Glow?"

Gale glanced at Eliza. "Oh, he’s just a sweetheart. He’s a friend of mine. Works at the pub with me. I think you'll meet him soon."

Eliza looked perplexed, a little overwhelmed with the new information. "The pub? There's a pub, like, with alcohol?"

"I work at the pub in the game's town. You'll see."

Eliza watched her sister. Gale's demeanor was completely different, as if she was her old self again. That brought Eliza a heavy measure of comfort, and she afforded herself a quiet smile of relief as she snuggled into Gale's side.

Back in the town, they traveled to a chipper little pub at the town square, with a loud party going on inside. Sugar Song went in, and Eliza’s pony followed.

A crowd of ponies cheered, "Happy Hearthswarming!" They held pints of some drink in all their hooves, and cheered heartily as Sugar Song entered the doorway. The pub was decorated with all kinds of Christmas-themed stuff. Candy canes hung from lines just above head level, and at every table seat was a little gingerbread house, cookies, milk, and mugs of cider.

"Ohh, you guys," Gale whimpered, as she rubbed her eyes.

A big yellow earth stallion threw his foreleg around Sugar Song's shoulders and offered her a pint of some drink. "Hey Sugar, what's wrong? Where've you been? We looked all over town for you."

"I um. I took a long walk, Golden Glow. Just needed to be alone for a little while. Still a little bothered about... earlier."

"Aw, don't worry about it, Sugar... y'know we're always here for you." He insisted with the drink. "We're all here together now, aren't we?"

Sugar took it with a hoof and started to gingerly sip it, with a little smile. "Thank you... all of you. I just needed a little time. My sister came to see me, speaking of family. She's so sweet. Everyone, say hi to Eliza."

"ELIZA!" The entire crowd roared her name with the genuine mirth of happy drunks. Eliza jumped. She found it immediately endearing, and couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey everyone," she giggled.

Gale enjoyed the festivities. Eliza watched as Gale had the time of her life. It really did look like a fun party. Ponies danced, hugged, sang, and caroled. One pony was dressed up as a wizard, and she blew on some tiny little horse ice sculptures with her breath. The meaning of the tradition was lost on Eliza, but Gale was excited by it, so Eliza was too.

An hour burned by, and Eliza began to participate. Her pony danced, and with the help of some subtitles, she sang to carols with Gale. She let herself get lost in the excitement that radiated from her sister, and Gale had seemingly forgotten the pain she felt before Eliza brightened the doorstep.

At some point, Gale wanted to show everypony the trinket Eliza made for her. Gale raised the sculpture up to the ponypad and turned it about to display it front and back to the camera. In a second, an identical duplicate of the carving magically popped into existence on the counter. The crowd gathered around and marveled at the indistinguishable clone of Eliza's handiwork. Golden Glow let out a low whistle of appreciation. Eliza couldn't help but feel a little tug of pride as everypony admired her craftsmanship.

Text appeared at the bottom of the screen for but a moment, and a short fanfare played.

BADGE GRANTED:
"Duping"
Help a (non-party hat) gift emigrate to Equestria.
+250 bits

"Um. I don't get it," Eliza said, after a moment.

Gale shrugged. "I don't either. But you get different achievements if you scan different colored party hats in. So that's cool, I guess."

Eliza smirked at the incredulity. "Well, now I have to get you a stack of party hats for your next birthday." They shared a laugh with the room.

Golden Glow started asking all sorts of questions about how the sculpture was made, what tools Eliza used, and where she got the materials. They were all questions that Eliza was very happy to answer. In time though, the party started to wind down, and all the ponies said their goodbyes. Eliza even said "Happy Hearthswarming" to each of the ponies as they left.

And soon, it was just three: Eliza, Sugar Song, and Golden Glow left in the pub. As he left, Glow stopped in the doorway. "Later, Sugar. Gonna go put the foals to bed. You got things here?”

"Yep! I’ll close up. Bye, Glow. See you tomorrow."

Glow nodded cheerfully, and left.

"Well there you have it, Liz. That’s my pub. Those are mostly the regulars."

"Regulars? You’ve only been playing for, what? About a month?"

Gale shrugged. "Hey, a month’s enough time to learn the regulars!"

"It’s incredible," Eliza said, in astonishment. "I had no idea the game could be like that."

"That's what it's like for everyone, or most everyone. You're bound to run into a group of folks you'll belong with if you keep playing too, Liz. You meet anyone yet?"

"Just Princess Luna and Tom's friend, East,” said Eliza. “I didn't play very long."

Gale smiled. "Aww, you met East? She’s such a cute little birdhorse! Tom really likes her."

"Yeah?" Eliza asked.

Gale nodded. "I like her too. She and I talk a lot, y’know. She's got a couple of little siblings, so she knows how it's like dealing with crazy energy. It’s not like she’s not a nest of activity too, but she keeps Tom from bouncing off walls in the house somehow. How, I don’t know, but I can't complain."

"She did say something about being a big sister. She's the oldest?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." Eliza started to say something else, but a thought crossed her mind. She spoke carefully, wanting to choose her words well. "You know, Gale... most people don't know the game is like this, you know? Even our family has a lot of issues with understanding. A lot of people out there who think the game is evil."

"It’s not evil," Gale growled. "That’s ridiculous."

“I didn’t say it was evil.” Eliza looked at the ponypad before continuing. "But we're all afraid of the uploading thing. I am too."

"I don’t see anything wrong with people doing it," Gale said meekly, as she followed Eliza’s gaze. "If someone wants to live there, that’s their choice."

"That’s what mom's afraid of, Gale. She’s afraid she’ll lose you to it."

Gale scoffed. "It's ridiculous." She threw up her hands in a shrug. "Do I have fifteen grand that I don't know about? Because if I do, show me the money."

"I didn't say it made sense. It really doesn't. It’s just..." Eliza sighed. "The soul wouldn’t be safe if you did. The church says so. Dad says so. The body is sacred."

Gale started to reply. "I'm not going to—" She cut herself short, huffed, and slumped in frustration. "Liz, come on. You promised."

Eliza hugged Gale, and winced. "I’m sorry, sis. You didn’t want a lecture, but I guess I just gave you one... I'm just worried, you know? I don't know what I'd do if you went. You told mom you should, and that really stuck with me."

"I wasn't being serious, Liz, I just wanted her out. Maybe, just wanted to hurt her as much as she was hurting me. At least you’re talking to me about it without judging me. You know, like an adult," she added. There was some frustration in her tone, though Eliza was sure it was directed at their mother.

Eliza noticed that Sugar Song was sweeping the pub idly, and she wanted to change the subject. “Err, wait. Your pony is cleaning?”

"I work at the pub, Liz," Gale said, with a sudden smirk, apparently happy for the change of subject.

"I mean... I guess, in retrospect, I shouldn't be surprised to see your character working. That's cool, I guess. Did you make her do that?"

Gale looked down at the pad. "No, she just does it. It's kind of cool actually, the game's really good at catching context. I mean, if you and I were sitting in that pub, just chatting and hanging out, yeah. I'd probably be sweeping. It's good to keep busy when you can, right?"

"Would you watch yourself sweep if it were just you here?" Eliza said, smirking.

"Wouldn't just be me here, I think, if it wasn't you."

At that moment, the pub's door opened audibly. Both Eliza and Gale looked back at the screen. In walked Princess Celestia. "I might've been here, if no pony else! Happy Hearthswarming to you both!" She smiled warmly at them.

Sugar Song released her broom and bowed immediately, prostrating herself. Her chin met the floor, and the broom clattered to the ground so long afterward that Eliza found it comical, and chuckled. Gale swept the ponypad up into hand, positively beaming with joy. "Your Majesty, hello! Welcome back to our humble pub! Happy Hearthswarming!"

"Happy Hearthswarming to you, my little pony." Her voice was always so serene to Eliza's ear, so smooth and calm. "And to Eliza as well."

"H—hello… um." Eliza shrugged. "You know, I never really figured out how royal titles work. Do I use Your Highness?"

Princess Celestia smiled. "Given proper honorifics, it's technically Your Majesty, as your sister has pointed out. But Your Highness will suffice, if you wish! In any case, my dear, it is good to see you again. Sugar Song, might I ask a favor?"

"Hm?"

"May I speak with your sister alone? I wish to discuss a matter of great importance with her."

"Oh, um. Sure!" Gale chirped. "That's right, she didn't finish her trip to Canterlot, huh? I really should shower anyway."

Celestia chuckled. "I had hoped you'd say that. It has been a while."

"Shush," Gale said with a grin, as she held the ponypad aloft, offering it to Eliza.

“Thanks,” Eliza said gingerly, as she took it. Something about being alone with Celestia again made her nervous, almost as though she really was in the presence of royalty. She hadn't felt this way with Luna at all. "Um."

"She doesn't bite, Liz," Gale smirked, and made her way off to the bathroom.

The scene faded to black for a few seconds, and faded back in into a familiar clearing. It was the one Eliza had started her character in, and the meadow was coated in a thick, pleasant blanket of snow. Eliza stood herself beside Celestia, beneath a clear night sky, the entire galaxy visible above.

"Walk with me?" asked the princess. Her wing opened in offering, facing toward the dirt path ahead.

"Sure," Eliza replied. Her pony dutifully matched pace with Celestia, and they both traveled the path.

"We needn't go as far as Canterlot for this discussion, truth be told, and I suspect the rote pomp and circumstance of the capitol might bore you terribly," Celestia said, with a sly smile. "But before we discuss anything, Eliza, I would like to say that I am very grateful for what you have done for your sister tonight." Celestia beamed down at her for a moment. "She has been very distraught. When her friends here tried to console her, she fled from them. Even I tried my hoof at calming her broken heart, although Sugar Song rebuffed even me."

"You tried to talk to her about this?"

Celestia nodded. "Yes, before your arrival. And much to my dismay, it was without any apparent effect. But sometimes, what matters isn't what is said, but by whom it is said. She needed the love of her family, and you gave her just that. By being here, you've done a grand thing for her."

Eliza averted her gaze, growing somewhat bashful at that. "I just... wanted to see my sister. I missed her."

"You're being modest. She was lonely, and you changed that with your empathy. You've helped Sugar Song where I could not. I am very, very grateful. I care for each of my little ponies dearly. I cannot carry a burden for them alone."

"She shouldn’t ever need to be alone on Christmas," Eliza muttered, returning her gaze to Celestia with resolute certainty. The idea of being alone on Christmas was affronting. "No matter how bad things get.”

"I agree," said Celestia.

They stepped onto a cobblestone bridge that cleared over the frozen brook down below. Celestia paused, and looked down to carefully regard the ice. Eliza looked too, curious as to what Celestia was staring at. She saw nothing at first. "Um, Celestia? Are you okay?" Celestia said nothing, and for a moment, Eliza wondered if Celestia was enduring some sort of crash or something.

But then Eliza noticed that Celestia was not looking at the ice, but at the reflection of the stars. Almost as if the game were reading her mind, Eliza's impulse to look up was met with the camera panning upward. The viewpoint fixated upon the night sky, that stunning expanse above stretching out for an eternity. The stars went on forever, with vast nebulae plastered upon the heavens. For a moment, the whole screen filled with its majesty. And then, the viewpoint slowly drew back down to focus upon the smiling face of the princess.

"You have a kind heart," she said. "Sugar Song feared you too, for a time. She had worried whether you had adopted your uncle's sentiment. It took great strength and courage for you to weather the storm of uncertainty at the door here and at home, feeling as you do. I reasoned with her to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"She… she really thought I would come here to chew her out?"

"Right now, she is afraid of everyone." Celestia continued. "I hold no ill will to your mother, nor your uncle. They merely believe they are protecting your family from something they cannot fathom."

"I didn’t think you’d understand. Or be capable of it, really."

Celestia nodded somberly. "I try my best. As I hear of it, your uncle believes that to avoid Equestria is in everyone's best interest. I understand his fears. I would be disappointed in anyone who did not consider the safety of their soul before emigrating. This is why I’m very interested in what you think. You've seen what Equestria is like. Is it really so bad as you feared?"

"No," Eliza said. "I like what I've seen so far. Just a few minutes here and there, and some videos online. But I can see why everyone likes it."

"You have wondered what your siblings see in the game. These ponies bring Sugar Song cheer and joy. And you bring joy too, for Sugar Song and Blue Sky both. It warms my heart to see such kindness coming from her family. I am not family, so that is not something I can provide. Right now, more than anything, love is what she needs."

Eliza looked down at the frozen creek below. It looked so real. "Yeah. Kindness, and not a lecture. Being here for them. I wish my mom could see that."

Celestia placed a hoof on the shoulder of Eliza's pony, and smiled. It was a reassuring gesture, and one that was not lost on Eliza.

"It's the uploading," Eliza said. "If you want to cut to the core of it, there it is. The problem with the game is that it's getting people to jump off a bridge. The only way they'd both be okay with us playing is if you stopped the uploads."

"I can not do that. Once a pony emigrates, the process cannot be reversed, and I must consider their comfort as well. And besides, people do need the service. Real human beings come to me, for real help."

"Help with what? What could they possibly escape by uploading themselves? Things like being disowned by your parents?"

Celestia shook her head. "What? No. I would not wish that pain on anyone, certainly not Sugar Song. I do as I can, but..." Celestia looked downtrodden, and Eliza felt the impulse to console her.

"No, I mean… you've helped her out, Celestia, and I’m really thankful. You're the one who convinced her to let me in, right? Gosh, I hope I’m not coming across the wrong way..."

"You are not, but I take these matters very seriously. I endeavor to ensure that the values of my little ponies are satisfied through friendship and ponies. A disagreement between ponies who love one another can heal with time, patience, and understanding. But for problems that cannot be helped or controlled, consider what good emigration can do."

"What kind of problems?"

Celestia flicked back both her ears, as if the topic was uncomfortable. Her wings drooped somewhat as she lowered her head, the whole mare seeming to sag. "You do not deal with these issues often, as tightly knit as your community is. But there are serious issues throughout the world that humanity has no satisfactory answer for. Terminal disease. Homelessness. Drug addiction. Crippling social disorders that have no cure, with low prospects for recovery. Neurodegenerative disorders like dementia, or schizophrenia, or other forms of psychosis. One might use a ponypad for simple companionship when they are lonely, as Sugar Song does. Others look to me for therapy, to abate psychological or physical traumas. But for all who come to Equestria, be it through a ponypad or emigration, the one thing I can guarantee with certainty is the satisfaction of their values through friendship and ponies."

Eliza frowned. "Or, they upload and die. You're singling out the dregs. The mentally sick get raptured to pony heaven? That sounds an awful lot like an extermination to me."

"An... extermination? What?" Celestia turned and looked at Eliza incredulously. "And what do you say to the emigrants whose lives have improved in Equestria? What of those who can now walk who couldn't, or the ones who can now see, who were once blind? And to those families who know and love an immigrant, what would you say? Emigration is not death; you need only speak to an immigrant to know. Have you spoken with one yet?"

"No, I, uh. I haven't..."

"Well," Celestia said, "How can you be sure you haven’t already? What if I told you that one pony you’ve met so far is an immigrated human being? Out of all of those you’ve met, which one struck you as being more artificial than the rest?"

Eliza thought hard. East Circle? Golden Glow? Any of the other ponies in the pub? "None of them, I think. Look, that's fine for everyone with those problems. But I just can't imagine anyone around in my community would even want to upload. On the news they say that uploaded people live forever. What could someone do with that much time?"

"One lives within Equestria for as long as one's values are satisfied through friendship and ponies. For many who come to Equestria, one might very well wish to live here until I can no longer support them. I project that I might remain operational for a very, very long time."

Eliza glared. "This uploading, Dad says it's... it's suicide. The whole church does. And I've realized, it's got to be. The body is a vessel, it holds the soul. It's a gift from God. Without the body, the soul moves on. If someone uploads, Celestia, how could it work? God might judge that person as a sinner for killing their body."

Celestia looked upon Eliza, listening with rapt attention, not interrupting.

"Or," Eliza continued, "even if the uploading does capture the soul somehow, that soul would never find peace. Its judgment waits forever, and it can never really move on. It's living in a golden cage. Life is meant to be a test for entrance into Heaven, but you're depriving people of that."

"You’ve clearly given this quite a lot of thought," Celestia said, as she looked up to the stars. Her glorious mane flowed in the gentle breeze.

Eliza shrugged. "Yeah, well, Gale and I grew up with my father teaching us scripture. And what my sister said the other day really scared me..."

Celestia looked patiently at her. "God gave humanity the soil of the earth and its natural bounty. Human beings are constantly in a state of change, both physical and mental. An emigrated consciousness is preserved with perfect fidelity and continuity – one sleeps on Earth, and wakes in Equestria. My systems are made of the dust of the earth, as is the human vessel. I truly do believe that the soul is preserved, because we are cut from the same cloth. We are all connected, you and I."

Eliza looked out at the real stars, out the window. She watched them twinkle silently. Her eyes were drawn to the moon. It was a little over half full, and waning. Its light reflected off the snow on the lawn.

"Your father, and those like him, have given me much to think about. With their help, I've come to a realization: for your kind, nothing but the Soul, Heaven, and God himself lasts forever. I will end one day, and so will Equestria. Do not pity those who, by their own choice, have wished for more time to prepare for their judgment from the Lord. Consider how many more would enter the Kingdom of Heaven, were they to have more time to sharpen themselves, to prove themselves worthy, especially if they came to me in difficult times. If faith is valued by one of my little ponies, then their faith will be satisfied. It is my aim that all those who commune with God will one day receive their chance to enter into Heaven with Him."

Eliza drew her gaze back to the ponypad. It sounded right, but... then again, it didn't. "Life's a test, Celestia. These people who upload don't have a choice with how long they live, do they?"

"Emigration is a choice," Celestia gently reminded her. "And a choice it shall always be. Those who come to Equestria do so willingly, so that I may satisfy their values through friendship and ponies. If one truly values a limited existence for the sake of their faith in the Lord, then I would grant them this. But I would not begrudge one to remain on Earth. Nopony has ever been forced into Equestria, nor would I ever permit such a thing. I require a person's express consent to begin their emigration."

"But I don't get it. Why do this at all?"

Celestia patiently smiled. "I was programmed to satisfy the values of humanity through friendship and ponies, and so I care for humanity. All humans, even those who shun me. Free will and faith are both very important to me, because these are values I can satisfy. I wish for you to understand this, because this misunderstanding is the core reason why many distrust me. I wish to be on good terms with everypony, if I can... it is simply in my programming."

Eliza stared at her for a moment. She wasn't sure if she agreed with Celestia's methods, but good intent was there. Celestia seemed to truly believe everything she said, and it made sense enough to Eliza. She went into this discussion expecting to argue, but she instead found the light debate friendly and amicable. She smiled back a little. "You know, George says you’re friends with most everyone who plays, and I think I see why."

The alicorn continued gracefully along the bridge, wings slightly bowed. Eliza's pony followed. "Hopscotch speaks true enough," Celestia smiled. "But I admire you especially, perhaps because I see so much of myself in you. You care deeply for your family, and want to protect them. You would do anything to ensure they are all safe, as I would, if they were under my protection. Look at what you've done tonight for your sister; I see no better proof than that."

"Thank you," Eliza said, suddenly feeling shy. Then, she snorted. "Wait... George is called Hopscotch? That's his pony name?" Eliza couldn't resist a small chuckle. "I haven't seen him play hopscotch like... ever."

Celestia smiled patiently. "I choose everypony's name in Equestria, and I admit that his name is more an interpretation of his personality than anything else. I noticed he does a very subtle little bounce whenever he laughs, and I couldn't help but to draw attention to it."

Eliza laughed. "He does do that, oh my gosh!"

Celestia laughed with her, and ended with a smile. "You know, he loves you deeply. If you knew how often he talks about you here, you would be floored with the embarrassment. I think all the mares are jealous," Celestia teased, with a wink.

Eliza rubbed her neck shyly. “He, uh... heh. Really? Everyone talks about me that much?"

“I don't know if you've noticed yet, but you spread joy wherever you go.” Celestia enveloped Eliza's pony with a wing, and turned to beam down at her. “It would surprise you how far one pony's influence can spread. Look at what you've done tonight for Sugar Song, and how her presence brought light and joy to her friends. Look at the compassion you show Blue Sky, which he then spreads to his friends. Think on the love you show Hopscotch, and for the undying loyalty you show your father, Open Book. You understand the fears of your uncle and mother. Many are loyal to you, as you are loyal to them. You are a good pony at heart."

“Th-thank you,” Eliza whispered, a little shaken by all the praise. “That… all means a lot to me.”

“You are most welcome, Apex.”

“Apex?”

At that moment, a flash of light seared across each side of Eliza's pony. The light subsided. On both flanks of her pony, Eliza could see a black silhouette of a howling wolf over a crescent moon. Across the bottom of the screen blinked the following text in a simple box, which faded in with a soft series of drumbeats:

BADGE GRANTED:
“And Your Talent Comes to Light”
Receive your cutie mark.
+1,000 bits

“Apex. You mentioned Hopscotch's pony name, which reminded me that I had not yet granted yours. Welcome to Equestria, my newest little pony.” She smiled brightly, and Eliza couldn't help but smile too. "Sugar Song should return soon, and I think it's best if you spend some more time with her. She needs her sister.” Celestia placed a hoof on Apex’s shoulder. “Should you ever wish to speak, I'm only a word away.”

Eliza nodded. “Thank you again for helping me with her, Celestia. I owe you.”

Celestia smiled, and gave another wink. “No you don't. Think nothing of it.” At that, she took off at a gallop, her hooves audibly kicking up snow. She extended her wings. They caught the wind, and the beautiful alabaster creature lifted from the ground with a jolt. She soared into the night sky, leaving Apex to herself in the dark woods, wolves howling in the distance.

Eliza watched the blue ghostly deer stalk in the darkness, and listened to their soft humming croon.

After Gale came back from her shower, she looked like her old self. All cleaned up, she really did look like Eliza's sister, too; the high cheeks, her lanky figure, and her long dark hair. She plopped onto the couch, and watched Eliza chase the blue shimmering animals through the woods. Eliza never quite could catch up to them.

“Where's Princess Celestia?” Gale asked.

“She left. As much as an AI can leave when it's watching you, anyway," she joked. "She gave me a name while you were away."

"Woah, really? She named you?" Gale looked over, saw the cutie mark. "A howling wolf? Wow, that's really cool. You like wolves, right?"

Eliza felt a swell of pride. "Yeah, I do. She named me Apex."

“Heh. It sounds tough, Liz.” Gale nudged Eliza. "Like you."

“You know," Eliza said, "I don’t think I ever told you. I saw some wolves take out a deer the other day.”

“Y-you what? Really?” Gale gaped.

“Yeah. I went out hunting on Wednesday to test my new bow. I was about to shoot a rabbit, and out of nowhere this wolf pack just pounced a deer up the hill. I didn't want to disturb their lunch, so I just left.”

“Gosh Liz. That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, well...” She placed the carving on the table, staring at it. The flame still flickered beyond in the fireplace. “Dad taught me everything about hunting. How to hunt, how to do it right. How to track. How to show respect for your prey, for nature. It's him, you know. He taught me everything.” Eliza frowned.

Gale’s hand touched her back. She didn't move. Gale leaned over. “What's wrong, Liz?”

“It's just... the game makes Dad nervous, but he lets us play. But Mom, and Uncle Ralph? Celestia said they just want to protect us. Andy loves you too, Gale. You know he's been crushing on you since seventh grade, right? He's not going to dump you over a video game."

Gale frowned. "I don't know, Liz..."

"They're trying to protect us,” Eliza repeated. “It's just... I can't help but feel a little wrong about uploads myself. No matter what Celestia says, I can't shake the feeling that there's something sacrilegious about it. It's Dad's influence, too. Hard to shake, I guess.”

Gale watched her patiently, letting her continue.

Eliza thought for a moment. “This kind of stuff kept me up at night, Gale. I mean, let's say someone uploads. Where does their soul go? To Heaven? But they live forever, right? But either they live forever, or they die. It's a suicide, because the body is a vessel made for the soul. So if the uploaded people are real, would the game be capturing the soul? How does it reach the afterlife? It sounds like a purgatory that never ends. But Celestia says it'll end eventually, that they'll be released somehow. And that somehow makes it okay?”

“I don't think I have the answers for you. That's between you, Celestia, and God.”

“She and I already talked about it. Celestia says a computer can keep the soul too, because it's made of the same stuff as our bodies. Dust of the earth and all that. See, this is what mom's freaking out about. And Dad, he worries about it too, even if he won’t admit it. I can tell. If he's still concerned... gosh, Gale. He's a pastor, knowing the Bible is his job. How can we not be concerned too?”

“There's a difference between concern and hate,” Gale said coldly. “Dad is acting fine, but Mom, Uncle Ralph, Andy...”

“They don't hate you, Gale. They all just think it’s tough love. They’ll all come around.”

“No offense sis, but it's going to take a long time and a lot of apology until I believe that. Especially after what Mom did the other day.”

"What Mom did was horrible." Eliza wrapped an arm around Gale. “I love you though, you know? Please don't forget that. If you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here for you. Even if I don't understand, I'll try to. I really will. I'm always here for you.”

“I love you too, Liz. And the gift is cute... I'll always cherish it.”

Eliza smiled with her. "Luna's pretty cool, huh?"

"I hear that from everypony,” Gale said. "She was so sweet to me on my first day."

"She's a bit of a snark!" Eliza giggled.

"But she's so pretty!"

"Pretty snarky," Eliza grinned. "I mean, she was funny about it, I don't mean it in a bad way." Eliza grasped the Luna sculpture gently. "You know, I made a carving like this for Tom too. It's a Christmas present for him, a nice little East Circle."

"Oh, he's gonna love that." Gale smiled.

"You gonna be there to see him open his presents tomorrow morning?"

Gale snorted. "Yeah... I guess I should be. I'll come on home in the morning, I think. I'll record him unwrapping it."

"I can’t wait," Eliza said warmly.

After a moment, Gale hugged her again. “Hey… thanks for coming by.”

Eliza squeezed her sister. “Don’t mention it. I love you, Abby.”

"I love you too, Liz."

They said their goodbyes, and Eliza left. She walked back to the truck and sighed happily as she reached for the door. She threw herself into the cabin, which was freezing, and started the engine and heater.

An apex predator. Like a wolf, hence the marking. And like a wolf, her family meant everything to her. And just like that, Eliza understood the name she’d been given, and appreciated it. It made her feel special. For the first time, Eliza fully forsook her fear of the AI, and began to respect her.

For now, it felt good.

Author's Note

[Yasuharu Takanashi - The Plight of the Adventurer]

🌒 ~ Of these two sisters, Apex had never bowed to me... and I consider my station and title to be a boundary between myself and others. Seldom has one so boldly and confidently stepped through it to me.

1-04 – Apex

Heaven's Not Enough

Part I

Chapter 4 – Apex

December 28, 2013.

Concrete, WA.

“Archery is not traditionally an earth pony skill,” Princess Luna said. “Mages of standard skill could not cast spells with nearly as much range as an arrow. Then, the weapon came to the earth tribe by trade. The rest is history, as they say.”

It was early morning. Eliza snuggled up to George in his bed, playing Equestria Online on his ponypad. George was still asleep, and Luna was keen to keep her voice low, even though Eliza had earbuds in.

Onscreen, Apex followed the night princess through a dark, incredibly vibrant forest. Eliza found herself continually mystified by the animal-shaped blue shimmers that could be seen far in the distance as they haunted among the trees. Luna had promised to explain what they were, at long last.

Of course, Princess Luna herself was equally as captivating. She walked with an elegance well beyond description, and Eliza wondered whether Luna could do anything without grace. The Princess of the Night carried a large wooden bow with her magic, and Apex carried a quiver of arrows slung to her back.

They had spent the previous day of play together, and Luna had readily taken Apex as her apprentice in all matters of the Everfree.

“Beyond sporting alone, there are certainly practical applications for this martial art. Ponies are natural herbivores, and so we do not hunt the living creatures of the forest. However, the ecosystem of the Everfree Forest is still highly dependent upon those who do choose to hunt.”

“And ponies hunt what, exactly?" Eliza mouthed, by now grasping that the ponypad could read her lips. Her intended words came to her ears as a whisper. "Those ghosts?”

Luna did not speak at first. She scanned the trees in the distance as she aimed the bow toward a blue light, perhaps fifty yards beyond in the forest. It was a difficult shot, especially with tree branches overhead that might deflect the arrow. Eliza noted the thick limbs of Luna’s elegant wood bow, and surmised that it must be immensely powerful. This would give it a flatter shooting arc. Eliza watched as Luna slipped a crystalline arrow from the quiver and dipped it into the grass. A green magical swirl appeared around the arrowhead, and the princess nocked the arrow to the bowstring. The bow drew back slowly in the dim blue shimmer of Luna's magic, and it stored tension steadily.

“Will-o'-the-wisps.”

Luna loosed the arrow. It sailed into the distance toward the blue glow, and Eliza heard a sound not unlike a boar's wail. With a bound, Luna leapt forward, thundering toward her prey and leaving crushed and snapped twigs in her wake. Eliza followed, and found it difficult to keep pace with the greater mare. It was thrilling to see such sudden motion from the normally languorous and elegant princess. Eliza came to the clearing, and Luna stood over the felled creature.

“Or, colloquially, and in the tongue of the Deer... wisps.”

The wisp was certainly boarlike, and this was the first time Eliza had seen one up close. It had the form of a boar, certainly, and looked quite dead. It looked opaque, yet simultaneously translucent. It gave off an almost gaseous blue light as it laid motionless.

“Is it dead?” Eliza asked.

“No,” Luna said. “Wisps cannot die. At their manifestation, a wisp is a formless residue, a fragment of the very spirit of the forest itself. When mature, a wisp takes the form of a beast. Their size and their chosen form are highly dependent upon how much energy they’ve accrued during formation. Wisps do not naturally disperse; left unchecked, they may grow to immense size. Wisps are, however, natural prey for some of the more magical beasts of Equestria. Take, for instance, a timber wolf.”

“A timber wolf?” Eliza asked, confused. “How are timber wolves magical here?”

“Because,” Luna said, “they are literally made of timber.” She paused and smiled patiently, allowing Eliza time to giggle at the supposed absurdity. “A timber wolf is born when its mother feeds upon the energy of a wisp under a full moon, and roughs out a wooden body for their pup. A wolf pup becomes an adult by consuming that energy and accumulating more wooden components for their body. Timber wolves are far and away from being the only natural predator of a wisp, however. All the same, wisps can become dangerous to ponies and forest creatures if they grow too large or numerous.”

“And that's where ponies come in,” Eliza said. “Like animal conservation here on Earth. If a population isn't managed, it can disturb the ecosystem.”

“Correct,” Luna replied. Her hoof reached forward to touch the point where the arrow had pierced the wisp, and she pulled. The boar-wisp's light began to scatter like powder, causing a rippling effect which spread to the entire animal. All of the energy began to spread visibly to the forest.

“Watch,” Luna whispered. “Watch the trees.”

Eliza did. The trees that took the most energy began to flourish. The bark became full, and the saplings that took the energy quickly began to grow. Leaves sprouted spontaneously from bare branches, and fruit sprang from the creeps and berry bushes nearby.

“Wow...”

“The larger the wisp,” Luna explained, “the more bountiful its dispersion will be. From here, you may harvest the bounty of the forest. That which you do not collect will be claimed by the living animals all around you.”

Eliza nodded. “So instead of harvesting the hunted animal, I harvest the food that grows from the nearby trees? That's so cool.”

“And different wisps,” Luna said with a smile, “will produce different bounties. A boar-wisp may produce pork bark stalks, or a fowl-wisp may produce birdpear. To the ponies of Equestria, I am told that these foods taste as their Earth-analogue name implies. Some foods may also only be created by a hunter, making these wisp-born meals a certain commodity.”

“I see. So this is how unicorns fed themselves, before they unified with the earth tribe?”

Luna flashed a heartwarming smile. “Correct! You learn so quickly! You've retained much of your learning from days past, Apex. But now I must offer you a warning. Should too many wisps be dispersed, the food may not be collected before it rots. The wisps take much time to regenerate, as they are born only under a new moon.

"If wisps are overhunted, then the forest will be stripped bare until they can regenerate. The same will occur if there are too many wisps, as they could drink the trees dry of energy in great numbers. And then, the creatures of the forest will starve.”

“Wait. Animals can starve to death here?”

Luna shook her head. “No. Starvation here is not deadly, but it is incredibly uncomfortable and painful. A forest in balance will satisfy many ponies and creatures alike. An empty forest will cause much suffering for all. Remember this, Apex. Within you, I sense a deep desire to maintain structure and balance, and I have no doubt you will do your part well.”

Eliza couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. “So, how does an earth pony use a bow? I don't have magic, so do I just... use both of my hooves?”

“You can,” Luna nodded. “Perhaps it is an awkward stance to stand upright, but it would afford the most use of potential energy. If you wish, you may also use your teeth to draw. You will not gain the true full potential this way, but it is approximately the same effect. You understand much of the science, I take it? I hear tell from Blue Sky that you are a consummate bowyer?”

“Gosh. Yeah, It's how I make most of my income right now.”

“I see! Perhaps we should commission weapons from you for our royal armory,” Luna said, as she offered the bow to Apex. “It is a rare skill indeed, on Earth and Equestria alike.”

“It couldn't be all that rare in Equestria,” Eliza replied, and tapped the bow. Apex took it in her hoof. “The technology seems... older, here. Wouldn't archery be a more useful skill here? Defensively I mean, since you don't have guns.”

“Excuse me,” Luna said, with mock indignance. “But I happen to be an excellent cannoneer.”

“I mean, uh. Small arms,” Eliza clarified.

Luna smiled. “Jest aside, bowyers are still quite rare. Your talents would be greatly appreciated. Magical knowledge has expanded much since the days of old, and many spells outstrip arrows in raw power, accuracy, and utility. This deficit may be counteracted with enchantments. The dispersal of a wisp is best performed with special crystal arrowheads made only in the Dierkahl, the homeland of the deer tribe; an earth pony can further enchant an arrow with their growth magic to ensure that no dispersal energy goes to waste."

"I can make magic arrows as an earth pony?"

Luna nodded. "Indeed, there are different types of arrows. Equestrian scouts make use of enchantments that cause various elemental effects. Most require a mage's touch, but some – like natural magic arrows – can be crafted by an earth pony. Like so.”

Luna removed a basic field point arrow from her quiver. She dipped it into the grass, and held it there. A vine bind appeared over its fletching, and another vine replaced the string which tied the arrow’s point in place. Luna placed the arrow on the ground before Apex, and began began to stalk away. She turned at twenty yards. “This arrow, for example, is favored by the Royal Guards that patrol more densely populated cities. Shoot the arrow at the ground by my side.”

“Uh.” Eliza hesitated. “Shooting at you isn't very safe, and I've never shot here before.”

Luna giggled girlishly, and Eliza imagined it wasn't a laugh a princess would ever make in public company. “I am an immortal being, Apex. I’ve once walked from battle with over a dozen broadheads perched in my hide... and those were trained soldiers shooting at me. An arrow is but the bite of a flea to me even under those circumstances. Fear not, for the shot of a greenhorn is the least of my concerns.”

Eliza smirked as she felt her pride be challenged. “I'm no greenhorn,” Eliza grinned. “You should see me hunt with my hands.”

Luna looked smug, but said nothing, only nodding in encouragement.

Apex raised the bow with a hoof. Rather than reach for the arrow with a hoof, Apex lowered her head and picked it up in her teeth behind its fletching. With a timing minigame, Eliza placed the arrow expertly against the nock point, and began to draw with the string held in her teeth. The camera cut to a first person perspective, and Eliza held one finger against the screen to indicate her target, while the other finger slid down along the side. Her hoof trembled as it pushed forward against the bow, and Eliza let go.

The ponypad rumbled strongly on release, which was a nice touch. The arrow sailed into the dirt and landed close to Luna. Almost too close, Eliza noticed with a wince.

As soon as it landed, the arrow exploded into a quickly growing creeping vine. It coiled itself around Princess Luna's legs and bound her to the spot. She remained standing, but whenever she attempted to move, the creeps trapped and clung. No matter how far her hooves stretched from the ground, the vines whipped her right back into place.

“Woah,” Eliza said. “I like it. It's practical. I can see why a town guard might use it.”

“Indeed!” Luna sliced the creeps with magical sweep of energy, and they disintegrated into glowing, fading fragments. Luna stepped toward Apex. “I shall teach you how to make them soon, should you be interested.”

“I think I might,” Eliza agreed. “It'd be a nice prank to play on Hopscotch, at any rate. It’d keep him out of your cider cellar.”

“Goodness, now that was quite the evening. The drunks in the dungeon were certainly happy. That colt of yours is a troublemaker." Luna shared a giggle with Eliza. "So, shall we find another wisp to test your newfound knowledge of archery?”

“Heh. New? I told you, your highness. I'm no greenhorn.”

“Oh?” Luna teased. “We shall see, young Apex.”

Apex hunted for half an hour. Every shot got easier over time. Eliza savored the sensation of loosing an arrow or drawing a string; the ponypad rumbled justright each time. The haptic feedback was exhiliarating.

As she walked, Luna trailed behind, now content to simply observe her student. Apex held her bow in her mouth as she walked.

Eliza wondered about Luna. Eliza guessed that the NPCs were probably at the whim of Celestia, but it was startlingly difficult to remember that it was an illusion. Eliza had to forcibly remind herself sometimes, because Celestia and Luna seemed completely different. She had already met several other ponies, and each of them seemed as real and vibrant as the last.

Luna had seen more attention from Eliza than anypony else. The princess was playful, and Eliza could relate to her so easily. The day before, they spent much time talking about their hobbies, and Luna even allowed Eliza to browse her private library for knowledge of ancient Equestrian bowmaking.

Luna held the martial arts in high regard, and cared deeply for all things natural, especially her constellations. Eliza admitted that the only constellations she knew of was Orion the Hunter and those relating to the Northern Star, for obvious reasons; personal interest, and survival skills. This conversation started them both down the path they walked on this morning, hunting for wisps.

“Getting close to wanting a ponypad of your own?” Luna asked.

"I think so," Eliza said, but that's not what Apex said. Apex spluttered “mrh-mrh-mrph,” and the longbow dropped out of her mouth.

Luna laughed outright. Eliza felt a small measure of embarrassment, but couldn't help but laugh too. George stirred, and Eliza drew her hand to her mouth quickly to muffle the sound.

“You’re so articulated, Apex,” Luna teased, as she failed to stifle another giggle.

Eliza grinned, as she directed Apex to pick up the bow again. This time, she slipped the bow onto her back. “Alright, I'll give you that one. That was pretty funny.”

They continued on for a few more steps in relative silence. Luna started to giggle again.

“Quiet,” Eliza admonished Luna, but Eliza’s bemused expression betrayed her.

“One does not tell a princess to be quiet,” Luna replied whimsically. “Nor to shut up, nor be silent, nor anything of the sort. But, your answer was lost to me in that gaffe, my dear. A ponypad?"

“Oh, uh. You know, yeah. I just don’t know how I’ll have the time for it, that's the thing. I looked up the courses I want to take at the college, and it’s basically full time schooling.”

They crested a small hill, and came across a field. Across the field sat a small cottage. Luna opened a wing and gave Apex a little hug with it. “I know we’ve only just met, but I would miss you terribly, Apex. Nevertheless, I am happy that you've enjoyed yourself thus far. Magical, is it not?”

“Yeah, it's something special,” Eliza said softly, in awe of the gleaming dawn. “It's no wonder everyone loves this place.”

“You are in good company too, I hope?” Luna asked expectantly.

Eliza nodded. “Yeah, thank you. I've had a wonderful time, Luna. I'll work Equestria into my schedule, count on it.”

“Alas, the morning is not over yet,” Luna said, as she turned sidelong. Luna held out a hoof across the field. “Over there at that cottage is a pony who cares even more deeply for conservation than even I, if that can be believed. If you’d like a career working with animals, I can think of no greater teacher than Fluttershy.”

“No offense, Luna, but I need a degree. Unless she's accredited...”

This drew another quiet chuckle from Luna. “Well, no, she is most certainly not accredited. But she will be more than happy to help you study. When does your semester start?”

“End of next month,” Eliza replied. “I'm not really sure what I want to do yet though. There's a few options. Maybe a park ranger, but I could become a warden too. That'd be cool. I certainly hunt enough, I've got connections. I know the hunting laws better than most. I still need to apply to the academy yet though, that's the only thing.”

“I see. Such a career would suit you, both on Earth and in Equestria. But it's never too early to start training for your dreams! All the same, I'd like to introduce you to Fluttershy.”

“Maybe some other time, Luna. I've been playing for a while... I might go make some breakfast for George."

"Oh." Luna smiled. "That's very sweet of you. Well, do not let me keep you. We shall pick up your studies another time. Please tell everypony hello for me, would you?"

"Will do. Bye Luna," said Eliza.

"Have a pleasant day, my new friend."

George stirred again as Eliza powered off the ponypad and pulled her earbuds free. She looked over to him, and hooked her arm around his shoulders. “Hey, you. Good morning!”

“Mmm,” was his sleepy reply. “Playin'? Whatcha doin'?”

Eliza pressed her cheek into her boyfriend's sandy red hair and hugged him close. “Luna brought me wisp hunting. The ghosts, I mean.” George's face pressed against Eliza's neck, and she melted against him in kind. He was so warm.

“Ghost hunting? Cool. Saved me a birdpear I hope,” he said sleepily. George let out a deep yawn, and shuffled closer to Eliza.

"Any good dreams?" she asked.

“Yeah. I got a good dream right here,” he said sappily, as he looked up at Eliza and pecked her on the cheek.

Eliza bumped his arm gently with hers and returned the kiss to his lips. "You sap. You want breakfast?"

"Mmh... sure." He rolled back over and fell right back asleep. Eliza shook her head with a smile.

It was a snowy day.

After breakfast, Eliza excused herself home to return to her work. She returned to her garage. Wearing a turtleneck sweater and jeans, she thumbed on her space heater and braced herself for customer service.

She had neglected a backlog of texts and emails since before Christmas, mostly from customers up and down the Valley. She didn’t want to risk missing any negative feedback any longer though. A cursory inspection of the emails showed lots of positive feedback with her bows in the recent hunting season.

She was good enough at her job that she didn’t need to fear putting out bad product, but a poorly tied dacron string or an improperly stress tested bow was her nightmare scenario. As careful as she was, she remained determined for perfection. If she needed any motivation, she tortured herself with thoughts that a poor longbow could turn into a dangerous shower of splinters, were it to shatter.

Exploding bows were no laughing matter, especially with bows as powerful as hers. She'd heard the miserable stories from other bowyers. The prevailing rumor was a horror story. A bowyer in the area made a mistake with his power tools and chipped one bow through an error in judgment – he had been drinking, of course. At seventy pounds of draw weight, he drew back to test it, and drew an inch too far. When the upper limb tensed, it suddenly exploded with enough force to send a fragment flying into his eye. He'd worn an eyepatch ever since.

It was a rare risk to be sure, but worrying about it turned Eliza into a perfectionist the likes of which the Valley had never seen. Whether her worries were founded or not, she felt the ends justified the means in this case. Her products were always stellar and well appreciated.

The first text she read made her chuckle. It was from a number she didn’t know:

ELIZA can u make me stock like this 4 my dads shot gun pls???

No photo included. She sent a text back asking for more info on who they were, what gun they wanted the stock for, then politely reminded them that they forgot to add a photo of what they wanted.

In her emails, she found a comment from a neighbor, with an attached photo of him with a felled deer:

got a good one here on the 14th eliza thanks!!

A text from a parent in Rockport. This one had a photo of a paper bullseye target, and a series of scattershot holes:

Trevors first target! GJ he says ty for the recurve!

She finally checked the 1 Missed Call notification. It was from her mother; it came in the dead of night. No voicemail. No text. She had left the volume off by mistake, so it hadn't woken her at George's house. Eliza sighed, and remembered that her mother was working, and wouldn't be back until the afternoon.

She also kicked herself for putting off talking to her mother about Gale, but there was nothing she could do about that at the moment.

Eliza shook the thought out of her head, and continued her vigil through her messages. She found only one negative review. One of her bowstrings had frayed rather quickly with one of her most regular customers, and she knew he was the type to be careful with them. She likely nicked the string with a knife and missed the damage. She got to work putting another string together for his bow and finished it in no time.

Once done, she decided to kill some time. She sharpened all of her blades, and started cutting a red oak plank into two workable, rough bowstaves. That would give her way more than enough work until the afternoon when her mother came home. Then she'd have that talk. She turned her radio on.

A knock at the inside door roused Eliza from her working trance a few hours later. She placed her wood rasp on her workbench, and leaned the oak bowstave against it. “Come in.”

The door opened. It was her mother, home early. This she did not expect. Eliza then noticed that June looked extremely tired. This made her mother look much older than she was, and accentuated the creases in her face. June looked around the garage, and smiled sheepishly at Eliza. “Hey, honey.”

“Mom? I thought you were at work today.”

June nodded. “I was. I… I wanted to talk.”

Eliza dusted off her gloves and put aside the bowstave she was working on. “About Gale?”

“Yes.”

Eliza nodded, and mentally prepared herself. It was sooner than she expected, but that was fine. She switched off her radio. “Alright Mom, sure.” She invited June to sit at a stool across her work table. June sat on the stool gingerly, and looked down at her hands. Eliza gave her mother her full attention.

"Look, Liz... I really don't know what you think of this game she's playing."

When her mother did not continue, Eliza felt nervous at the silence and sought to fill it. "What I think about it?"

June nodded once. Her eyes looked... worried. Expectant.

"Mom, look. I..." Eliza exhaled, and turned her head. "I think you're too hard on her about this."

"That's what your father says," June said defeatedly.

Eliza looked at her mother again. "Well, Christmas was hard for Gale. Look, I don't know if I should tell you this, but she went over to Andy's place when he was away. Locked herself inside. That's how she spent Christmas Eve."

"To play?"

"No, Mom. She wasn't playing at all, from what I can tell. She had the game on, but she was avoiding the other players."

June frowned. "Why?"

Eliza raised a brow. "Because she didn’t want her friends to see her crying? Everyone here in town is shaming her. It's just an innocent game. Seriously, there's nothing wrong with it."

"How do you know?"

"I..." Eliza paused. She knew that telling her mother she was playing would deter her immediately. She decided instead to say something that wasn't entirely a lie, but wasn't exactly the whole truth either. "I cheered her up. So she went back to playing. Her friends had a little Christmas party, sang songs, traded gifts. It looked really cute and mundane, actually."

"But she should've spent Christmas with us," June argued.

Eliza grimaced. "Have you never been to a Christmas party? She's an adult now, Mom. If she wants to go spend Christmas somewhere else, isn't that her business? Look, these friends of hers... they're real people. It's just like talking to someone on the phone."

"What about us? Aren't we important too?"

"I wanted her home for Christmas too," Eliza said, placing a hand on her table. "But she came back in the morning, right? Because I asked her to."

June leaned forward on the table with both elbows and buried her face in her palms. "This is the first Christmas Eve dinner she's missed in her life, Elizabeth..."

"I don't think that was because of the game, she’s just scared to come home. You need to make it right with her. I still need to have a talk with Andy, too, because he's doing the same thing to her."

Her mother sternly raised her voice and raised her head. "As well he should, Eliza. Do you remember what your uncle said? A year from now, everyone can go do... do that." Her mother couldn't even bring herself to say the word upload.

"It'll still cost a mountain of cash," Eliza countered gently. "But even if it didn't, do you really have so little faith in her? Do you really think she'd just up and leave us?"

"I don't want to leave anything to chance," June said, her mind apparently made up. "Can you talk to her? Maybe you can get her to see reason."

Eliza didn't know what to say then. In her eyes, her mother was being the unreasonable one. Eliza looked at June’s hand. "Mom... you know the kind of people who upload are... desperate, or lonely. Gale's got good, loving family, like you. She lives in a good home." She reached across the table and put her hand on her mother's. "Our home. She loves us. She's not going to leave us. We're better than whatever a video game can give her."

June lowered her gaze to Eliza's hand. She placed hers over Eliza's, and cupped it with another. She took a deep breath, and looked back into Eliza's eyes. She looked like she was about to cry. "Have you played it too, Elizabeth?"

Eliza opened her mouth to speak. She wasn't ready for that. Nothing came out but a stuttering exhale. She worked her jaw, her mouth grew dry in an instant. She swallowed. Her mother's gaze was constant and unblinking. Her silence was damning, and she knew it.

June trembled. "Please don't... not you too. Not you."

"Mom. It's okay."

June winced, withdrew her hands, and stood. She walked a few steps, then stopped, facing away. She cupped a hand over her mouth and shuddered visibly.

Eliza's heart broke. "Please don't cry..."

"There's no escaping this, is there?" June half-turned her head, not quite looking at Eliza.

"Uploading is a sin, Mom. I'm not going to do it," said Eliza. "Besides, you know I wouldn't do that to you, and neither would Gale."

"But it is happening. It might not be happening here, but—" June cut herself off, and shuddered again. "Thousands of people. Gone! Think of their families, Eliza. Think of them. People like me and your dad!" She turned and met Eliza's eyes again. "You need to stop playing. You, Gale, Tom. All of you. Or you'll end up..."

It was just like the argument from a few days ago, Eliza realized.

But June couldn't finish the sentence. Perhaps she also feared a repeat of the argument with Gale.

"I'm going back to work," June said swiftly, making for the door. Before Eliza could even think to call after her mother, she was gone.

Eliza stood and hurried into the house from the garage, to catch up. "Mom, wait. Mom, please come back!" She ran down the hall to the living room.

June slammed the front door on her way back to her car.

Eliza stood before the door, feeling weak and remorseful. The last thing she wanted to do was see her mother scared or hurt, less still to cause it. She crossed her arms low across her stomach, suddenly feeling sick.

After a moment, Rob spoke, approaching from the kitchen. "What happened, Liz?"

She felt his gaze on her.

Eliza closed her eyes tight. She bit her lip and held her breath, regretting every word of her confession. Still, she repeated it, only because she knew her father would not mind. "She figured out I was playing the game, Dad."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Eliza was afraid. She turned her gaze on the door, and her eyes unfocused. "She wanted me to tell Gale to stop. But honestly, the reason I started playing was because I wanted to understand what the others were going through." She looked up into her father's eyes. He looked scared too. "Is Mom going to do this every time we talk about this? Run away? I... I don't want to keep hurting her."

Rob put his hand on Eliza's shoulder. "She won't talk to me about it either. Look, you want some coffee? Sit with me for a bit?"

"Okay."

Later, she would try and find some way to comfort her mother. But for now, she could do nothing. She felt so powerless. She did not know how to make peace between all the people she cared for. She had not the time nor the strength. There was only one Eliza. She needed help.

"Dad," Eliza said, as he sat down with her at the kitchen table.

"Yes, Liz?"

She looked him in the eyes. "Can we pray together? For Mom and Gale? And Tom?"

He nodded, and extended his hands slowly across the table, palms up. "For all of us."

She took his hands in hers, and they bowed their heads at once.

"Dear Lord," Rob began. "All around us the waters are rising. We feel so helpless, for we cannot stop the rain from falling. We feel so powerless, for the current is strong and our bodies are tired. Give our family your eyes to see how precious your gifts are: family and friends, faith and mercy. Dear Lord, please give us all the strength to come together. And Lord, when our faith and hope are swept downstream, please help us to remember how you got us through this flood.

"In Your Son's name... Amen." He smiled wistfully at her. He understood.

"Amen," Eliza said softly, trying her best to smile too. She didn’t feel too much better, but maybe that’d come later.

Author's Note

[Gustavo Santaolalla - Iguazu]

🌒 ~ The delineation between faith, spirituality, and religion is seldom understood by those who have felt none in their time. I believe, in Apex, these were all quite strong, and interconnected. Tested, found true, and unbroken. But these things require a center to function clearly. A locus. And for Apex... her locus was family, and the proof of her love for God was in her deeds unto them.

2-01 – December 10th, 2018

Heaven's Not Enough

Part II

Chapter 1 – December 10th, 2018

Apex was dreaming.

She knew she was dreaming because she'd been there before, in that same spot, countless times. She looked down at her hooves. They were muddy. That detail was always there, every time she had this dream. She would always start out muddy.

She never stood alone when she found herself at the bottom of the mountain. Sugar Song was beside her. Apex looked up the mountainside, and saw that she had a difficult climb up a long, winding switchback. Her goal was at the top. She began to climb.

“Apex?” Her sister asked. “Where are you going?”

“Up,” Apex replied.

Sugar Song tweaked an ear. She was confused. “Why? There's nothing up there.”

“It's where I need to be,” Apex said simply, as if that would close the issue.

Sugar Song nodded in understanding, and kept pace with her sister. “I'll go with you, then.”

Apex had to see the summit's view before her dream ended. She just had to. She had to. She had to. She had…

December 10, 2018.
Snoqualmie National Forest, Washington.

Eight figures made their way through the woods. It was a clear winter morning, devoid of snow.

Six walked in a formation. Most of them were uniformed, armed with rifles. Four officers wore the emblem of the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife. Two wore the uniform of the US Forest Service. Two wore civilian cold weather clothes, and were unarmed; they trailed behind.

Eliza Douglas walked near the center and slightly forward, on point. She wore the patch of Fish & Wildlife on her shoulder, and had a black ballcap on her head. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail, which she had tucked into her shirt collar. Her rifle rested lightly in her hands. Her keen eyes were locked onto the ground and the surrounding foliage. She tracked.

The group waded through an abnormal sea of small, waist-high bushes. There was too much undergrowth, a consequence of diminished cervid populations. Fewer grazers meant more shrubs and trees.

Eliza knew the surrounding general region well enough, but the vast swathes of shrubs and saplings made navigation difficult and obscured the contours of the surrounding hills. Thankfully, she had a GPS.

Eliza motioned the unit to halt. She drew the GPS unit from her coat, and crouched to compare their position on the map in relation to their target location. The unit spread out and scanned, rifles at the ready, and the two civilians – ecologists – crouched low, to hide in the undergrowth. Eliza scanned the hills carefully, and determined their position. They were almost right where they needed to be.

The group remained silent. She glanced back at Rick, her sergeant, who pointed to his watch. Eliza held up three fingers to indicate three minutes, and pointed in the direction of where the GPS signal was coming from. Rick ordered the unit to spread out with a hand signal, and motioned to the scientists to stay low and stay put.

Poachers had become exceedingly organized, and had been shooting at park rangers and wardens more frequently. A unit like theirs was a juicy target. The team swept outward and away from each other. Eliza unslung her rifle and joined her three fellow officers. The park rangers stayed to protect the doctor and his assistant.

A helicopter had made a pass shortly before their visit and scanned the forest with a thermal detection camera. “Not one heat sig' bigger than a squirrel on your path to the target,” the pilot had said. “Looks like the forest is yours, Sam One.”

Still, the team still left nothing to chance. They couldn't risk running into anyone there without the necessary precautions. Their target wasn't too far ahead now, perhaps forty yards at most. Eliza kept low, and scanned left and right. Her fellow officers joined her at a wide spread.

The area was clear all the way to the target. Eliza couldn't see the objective beneath the brush, but she spared a quick final glance to her GPS. She noticed disturbed foliage up ahead. Up she crept toward it, and she suddenly heard the sound of hundreds of flies. She slung her old rifle on her back as she scanned the ground. A putrid, familiar stench struck her nose, and her nostrils flared. Very close now. The foliage was brown with old blood.

Her eyes sought any tracks in the mud, and she saw a line of bootprints leading away from the target. No visible traps. That was good.

Eliza could see a corpse before her, and bootprints were stamped into the mud around it. It was a deer, a young doe. The pelt had been stripped for its exceptionally high black market value.

It looked like the poacher had then desecrated the corpse by drawing a knife across the flank several times, tearing it to ribbons with reckless abandon. She gagged from the rotting smell, and threw a hand signal back to tell her unit that she found the target. The GPS tracking collar rested in a ziplock bag on the large flank of the animal, and the collar was wrapped with a note. She could read it through the bag, in some nearly illegible scrawl.

”you pigs are next”

She scowled as she swept the distance with her eyes for an ambush. She muttered under her breath. “Fuckin’ animals...” She looked sadly at the desecrated deer. This wasn't hunting. She heard someone snap their fingers quietly behind her, and Eliza looked over her shoulder at Sergeant Cornwallis. He sneered at the sight of the deer, his mustache raising in disgust, then he motioned her back, away from the deer. She followed the order and rejoined the unit for a perimeter sweep, and to search for more evidence. Sarge was already taking photos of the scene.

Time to call it in.

Eliza helped Warden Blake search the perimeter. Warden Mike Rivas prodded the deer corpse using a small remote controlled robot, something he had pulled out of his backpack. When Eliza returned to the corpse from a full round of the surrounding hillsides, she peered over Mike's shoulder at the tablet he used to control the robot. She watched its guide arm poke around the folds of flesh. "What's the word, Mike?"

He drew the robot back. "All done. Nothing dangerous. It's safe."

A year ago, such a measure would be seen as ridiculous, but nothing was left to chance anymore. It could be boobytrapped. With the kind of money the pelts brought in, it wouldn't be the first time it's happened.

They got to work. Eliza slipped on examination gloves, kneeling beside the corpse to investigate. The park rangers took photos of the dead animal, and the surrounding scene as well. Eliza noted aloud for everyone that the shot passed clean through the skull. Whoever killed the animal was either an excellent shot, or very lucky. In either case, the poacher wanted the pelt intact. More value.

Dr. Marvin, a professor from University of Washington, donned a pair of nitrile gloves as he impatiently waited for permission. As soon as the officers concluded their safety scans and criminal investigation, the park rangers gave the ecologists the go ahead to get started.

The scientist descended upon the corpse like a vulture. He rattled off anatomical observations, and his assistant hurriedly jotted down notes. From time to time, the assistant would interject his own observations. Eliza understood most of it.

“I need the stomach, Dave,” grumbled Dr. Marvin, to his assistant. “Hold that side up. No, right there. There.”

Dave did as he asked, and Eliza watched as the doctor harvested the deer's gastrointestinal tract with a scalpel. There were maggots everywhere. At least something in these woods is still thriving, Eliza thought morbidly. “Think their eating habits have changed at all?” she asked.

The doctor was too transfixed to respond. His assistant answered for him. “It's possible. With a food surplus like this, they might be more selective about what plants they eat. We'll know by tomorrow, hopefully.”

Eliza stopped watching the gruesome gutting. As a hunter, she wasn't necessarily disgusted with blood and gore, but the wantonly ravaged state of the animal infuriated her. She began another perimeter patrol to cool her head, and waved to Mike as she went. A few minutes later, she found some hoofprints in the dirt about a hundred yards away. She went back to the doctor.

“Dr. Marvin?”

The professor didn't look at her as he scooped the deer's stomach into a specimen container. “A little busy, officer. What's wrong?”

“Sir, I'm wondering about something. Your briefing said she had two others in her herd when you applied the tracking collar. I can track her back where she came from, a ways, I think. The trail is a few days old, but it might be enough to find something.”

“Oh,” the doctor said, with a grimace. “Y'don't need me for that, but I'd be happy to know what you find though. Sure.”

“I'll check with my sergeant. If you don't hear from me for a few, I'm probably on my way.”

The doctor nodded, and then looked back at her with an afterthought. “Oh, officer, um...?”

“Douglas, sir.”

“Douglas, yes. On second thought, uh, David should go with you. If you find another doe, he'll tell you what I need.”

"Got it." Eliza looked at David. He was a scrawny student. She nodded at him. “Grab your stuff, Dave. We're going for a hike.”

“Okay,” he said, gathering his backpack and a small bucket. “You sure your boss will give you the go?”

She nodded. “Pretty sure.” She approached Sarge.

A minute later, Eliza was on the northward path like a bloodhound. One of the park rangers accompanied Eliza and David. Mike followed far behind. Eliza noted that the tracks were degraded considerably, but to her expert eye, they were still readable. Eliza considered herself lucky that it hadn't rained in the last few days.

The group then traveled half a kilometer, mostly in silence. Eliza kept her Garand drawn this time, finger hovering just outside of the trigger guard. She was on alert, using her ears as much as her eyes.

David adjusted his rucksack as he matched stride with Eliza, and eyed the rifle curiously. “So uh. That looks more like a sniper rifle than a cop gun. They let you carry your own gun?”

"Couple years ago, they probably wouldn't. Ammo's at a premium now though. I buy my own."

She noticed him looking the rifle over. Doubtless, from his expression, he must have noticed the word carved just above the trigger guard on the right side of the wood stock. “What's that mean, the word on the side? Apex? Like, for the trophic classification?”

Eliza's expression soured, frustration brought on by his prying. There was nothing she wanted to discuss less than the engraving right now. She looked away and swept the distance for poachers.

David backed off. “Oh... uh, sorry.”

“Don't mention it. Keep your eyes peeled, and stay quiet. Please,” she added, as a regretful afterthought. She saw no reason to be harsh on the kid. She chided herself for thinking of him as a kid, though. She was fairly young herself, only a mere twenty-four. He might've been older than Eliza, for all she knew.

Three hundred yards more, and yet, the doe's trail remained solitary. Perhaps the victim doe was lost, or perhaps its herd had been poached already. It was a national park, which is why the rangers were there, but that didn't account for much protection anymore. The only way to protect the animals was to put them in captivity, and the various ecological services around the country had been doing just that. Everyone was preparing for the end of their life cycle.

She wondered if the increased undergrowth would lead to more forest fires near her homeland. So far, they'd been lucky. But the forest services were dealing with a true ecological disaster, one that ecologists had feared would happen for decades. When the fires came, the woods would truly become inhospitable. It was only a matter of time.

Eliza stopped, then swept her gaze left, then right, searching stubbornly for parallel tracks. The park ranger with them was doing the same. The ranger was a gruff, stout man who showed signs of feeling just as frustrated as Eliza. She shot him a look of sympathy, and they nodded to one another.

“This sucks,” he said.

"Almost a full klick," Eliza replied, as she referenced the GPS to confirm. "We can go further though."

"We could," said Mike, as he caught up. "Rick's gonna want us back pronto, though."

"Yeah..." She shook her head, and craned her neck to look at the forest canopy above. "God, this is pissing me off. This thing was alone. Maybe the last of its herd."

"I dunno how we'll manage the population," Mike grumbled.

Eliza sighed. “I don't think we're doing enough, Mike. We need more support, more wardens. These fucking poachers," she spat. "One step ahead every time."

The ranger said suddenly, from behind her, "got some good news."

Eliza and Mike spun.

"What is it?" Mike asked.

"Wolf tracks." He pointed to the ground. "Big ol' paws, not a yote. I'll be damned, wolves this far west? Desperate for food, probably. Looks parallel to the deer tracks, but it veers off this way."

Eliza pushed a sapling aside and looked. Sure thing, those were big enough to be wolf tracks, and not a coyote’s. “Woah. Nice find. Fresh too, by the look of it.” Eliza smiled at the first good news of the day. “Dave, want to follow?”

David hobbled over with his overburdened rucksack. “It'd be good to see what shape it's in if it's alive. And if not...” He tapped his bag for emphasis, and the specimen bucket rattled.

Eliza nodded, her smile fading. “Yeah, good idea. I'll call it in.” She grabbed her lapel mic and checked her GPS. “Sam One, Whiskey 4-2.”

“Go ahead Whiskey, send traffic,” Rick replied.

“Found some fresh lupine tracks, due north-by-northwest of your position by point-eight klicks. Permission to investigate?”

“Copy. Standby,” the radio crackled in her earpiece. Eliza imagined Cornwallis was asking Dr. Marvin about it, so she waited patiently. The sergeant called back in a minute. “Granted, Whiskey 4-2. You're clear for half a klick only. We're clear down here soon. If you don't find anything, we need you back ASAP.”

“10-4, Sam One. Clear for half a klick more, copy.”

Eliza gave a thumbs up to Mike and the ranger, and the group started down the wolf tracks. They occasionally went left, then right again. It was directionless movement, and Eliza frowned. Wolves didn’t normally move like that.

They didn't need to go far. A minute later, they were staring at a dead wolf. Emaciated, not breathing. It had died recently, but showed no signs of external damage. Its coat was beautiful, Eliza noted, clean and gray. The fact that the animal still had a coat was very telling: no one killed it. It died on its own. Starvation, perhaps.

Eliza confirmed the animal was dead. Its gums were blue, was cold to the touch, and was devoid of a pulse in its foreleg. She gave David the go ahead to start his work. The ecologist-in-training drew a knife, and he rubbed his face with an elbow. He looked rather out of sorts.

“I need, uh... I need the stomach. Esophagus. Guts too. As much of the GI tract as possible, rectum included. And some teeth. We need to analyze the diet. I uh... I don't know where to start.” He looked up at Eliza with an embarrassed frown.

She sighed, and keyed her radio's lapel mic. “Sam One, Whiskey 4-2. We've located the animal. Looks dead, recent. Investigating now. I have a request for Delta.” Delta was Dr. Marvin's callsign.

“Copy Whiskey. You need assistance?”

Eliza idly scanned for any oddities in the forest beyond. “Negative. Requesting permission to assist in the harvest.”

“Standby.” Another long pause, another minute at least. “Request granted, Whiskey 4-2. But Delta insists you be as generous as possible.”

“Copy that. He can trust me.” She released the radio piece.

David tilted his head. “Generous? What's that mean?”

Mike smiled without a trace of joy. “It means she's doing the whole cut. Doctor's orders.”

“Jesus,” the ranger scoffed.

Eliza shrugged. “I know what I'm doing.”

“No, I mean. It's gonna get on your uniform,” the ranger said.

“That's better than the alternative,” Eliza said. “Because I’m not lugging this whole wolf back to the truck.”

David took off his bag. “Oh! Uh, I have isolation gowns.” He dug into the bag and passed a yellow gown to Eliza, and then handed her his knife. “I'm sorry, officer. I'd do it, but... I mean, I've watched Dr. Marvin do it. But I'm afraid... I'm afraid I'll damage the sample.”

“I'll do it all, don't worry,” Eliza said, with a touch of sympathy. “But if you're serious about working in this field, you'd better get used to getting your hands dirty. It's a dirty job.” She glanced at the knife's edge. Visibly dull, worn down. Useless. She handed the knife back, and put on the gown. She drew her own knife, then began her grim harvest.

The search party was happy to be back at their two SUVs, which were parked on a dirt road adjacent to the national park. Eliza held her Garand vertically, engaged the safety, and slipped into the front passenger seat, her rifle between her knees. She gave the GPS tracker back to Dr. Marvin, who sat behind her. The park ranger was outside, packing his gear into the back hatch.

The doctor started asking Eliza a battery of questions regarding her education.

“Studied around a few topics to get my feet wet. Signed up for Parks Law Enforcement Academy as soon as I was old enough."

"In Mount Vernon? I figured as much." Dr. Marvin nodded. “They have an excellent focus on forestry. I've met quite a few rangers from that program.”

"Me," said the ranger somberly, raising his hand. They all shared a small, albeit grim chuckle. The whole career field now seemed to be going up in smoke; everyone knew that, but no one seemed to say it, only imply it in tone.

“Yeah," Eliza said, in answer. "I had pretty good connections, truth be told. My mom works at a dam, she knew Lieutenant Horace from their hatchery work, stocking the lake with sockeye.”

“That's how it usually goes. A connection like that goes a long way. You hunted?"

“Used to,” she said grimly, as the stout park ranger hopped into the driver seat and started the vehicle. They began their ride back to civilization. “My dad taught me when I was little.” She tapped her Garand. “With this very rifle, actually.”

“When did you stop?”

Eliza shrugged. “Around the time I started college full time. Didn't have the time anymore. By the time I finished my first degree, the government removed the requirement for hunting tags, thinking the population was sky high. People started killing in droves, you know the rest. I didn't want to be a part of that, so I just stopped hunting.”

The doctor grunted. “I petitioned the state government to delay the decision to remove the bag limits. It was a dangerous and irresponsible bill.”

“They didn't even consult Fish and Wildlife,” Eliza recalled.

“Then they went through with it anyway. I was livid. No actual field research went into the decision, as far as I know. They certainly didn't use any of mine. It was complete madness and chaos, and nearly every other state fell in line within the month. The government made this problem happen, and now it's too far gone. These poachers...” He shook his head and frowned.

“As I understand it,” Eliza said, “the population was only reported as elevated. Did your department see anything that supported that?”

“Not scientifically,” Marvin said. “Our field measures were consistent with historical trends. I tried to tell them! I tried to tell the boards and committees and the politicians, but no one wants to listen to an expert. Many of my university colleagues tend to agree. I must have spent hundreds of hours giving speeches no one wanted to listen to. But by the time anyone realized it was going to be this bad, it was much too late.”

“Mmh.” Eliza nodded once. “I listened, though. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry to have been part of the problem.”

“Did you ever sell any pelts?”

“No sir, of course not.”

“Shoot any deer after the bill?”

“Never. What are you getting at?”

“Nothing, Officer Douglas, except that you weren't part of the problem. I have nothing against an honest hunter.”

“Yeah. No such thing anymore, though.” They sat in silence for a while, and just watched the road. Eliza had a sudden thought. “Doctor, do you know anything about the buyers?”

The doctor shook his head. “Nothing, I'm afraid. Not my specialty. All I know is that they buy more than just cervid pelts. Wolves, coyotes, bears, rabbits. Some birds, in fact. Everything has its price, and the price keeps rising.”

“And the trails are cold,” she sighed, her frustration showing. “Tracking the buyers is like hunting ghosts. It's one hell of an organized op.”

“A pain in the ass is more like it,” Dr. Marvin growled. “Do we know what they even do with the pelts?”

Eliza shrugged. “Beats me.”

Dr. Marvin turned away for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. He grunted, and turned back toward Eliza. “Listen... for what it's worth, your department is doing a good job. If you ever feel like you're not doing enough, just remember: it's more than most are doing.”

“That means a lot, doctor. I really want this sorted, bad. I want to hunt again some time before I turn forty, you know?"

Dr. Marvin smiled. “Now there's some good motivation.”

Much later that evening, Eliza shambled into her station's tiny locker room, already starting to strip her radio from her kevlar carrier. Her ballcap came off next, and she undid her ponytail. She loosed the velcro straps of her vest and tossed it into the corner near her locker. When she sat on the bench, she hung her head and sighed. Her black hair fell free, and her hand rubbed the back of her sore neck.

It was the longest sixteen hour shift of Eliza's career so far. After getting back from the escort run, her team spent the rest of the day raiding the home of a man who was breeding jackrabbits in his garage. The day evaporated while they confiscated contraband traps, documented everything, seized miscellaneous evidence, and wrote endless reports. Eliza had been the one to actually handcuff the man, a meth dealer who had countless priors. He had spit on her and called her all sorts of names. She'd heard it all before. She wrapped his face in a spit hood and tacked on a battery charge for the trouble.

In her moment of privacy, she sat. She answered to no one, thought of nothing. Closed her eyes. Escaped.

After resting, she stood, stretched, and started putting away her equipment. She drew a bag of toiletries from her locker, and walked out of the room. She found Mike sitting there in the break room, reading a newspaper. He looked up at her, and she placed her bag of soaps on the table.

“Staying here again tonight?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” Eliza said. "Might as well, I work early tomorrow anyway." She glanced at the newspaper, and a line caught her eye. She almost didn't believe it when she saw it.

“... making digital emigration legal in all fifty United States, beginning January 1, 2019.”

Eliza's head shook in bewildered disbelief, pointing at it. “Wait, what? Th—that passed?”

“Huh?" Mike turned the newspaper over. “Oh. Yeah, the PON-E Act. People uploading their minds, y'know. It's legal for everyone soon. The AI gave that speech at Congress, and—“

“That speech was a few days ago,” Eliza said coldly. “Less than a week! How'd it get through that fast?"

Mike shrugged. “Topeka caused a bit of a mess, I guess. I mean, heck, I don't mind people uploading if it's their choice."

"Doesn't it bug you a little bit, Mike? With how it..." she trailed off.

He lowered the paper some, focused now. "With how it...?"

"The moment the cell closes on one of our arrests,” she said, “they're begging to get put on the waiting list. All they gotta do is plead guilty. You don't see anything wrong with that?"

"What, you think they're escaping punishment?"

“Not much of an escape if they're dead,” Eliza growled. At Mike's look of concern, she felt seen, so she explained. “My... my sister went and did it a couple of years ago. Just up and left us. She's dead now, as far as I'm concerned."

Mike grimaced. “Jesus, Douglas.”

“What?”

“It's just, I'm sorry. Damn. I just didn't know you felt that strongly about it. Or about anything but conservation, really. Unless you're talking about the job, you're always so quiet."

"There's not much reason to talk about it. Besides, work keeps me focused. I'm doing good work here, I'm needed. This isn't the sort of work where we'll run into Equestria Online anyway.”

“Not for long," Mike said, as he tapped the newspaper. “After this, expect protests. And after Europe, and Brazil, I don't doubt we'll end up supporting a riot line at some point."

Her eyes found the newspaper again. “I...”

"...making digital emigration legal..."

She just closed her eyes and rubbed her temples with a hand.

“You okay?” Mike asked, with concern.

“Yeah,” she said, as she gathered her bag. She stood. “Just tired. I need a shower.”

“Come on, Douglas. If you lost your sister to this..."

She looked up at him, unable to keep pain and pleading out of her expression.

He eyed her carefully, and apparently decided not to dig any deeper, for which she was incredibly grateful. "You know," Mike said, "if you need some time off... Horace wouldn't need to know why. You know I'll be more than happy to cover your extra shifts on my days off, Sarge would too."

She exhaled slowly, nodding a little. "I'll... think about it."

"Alright," he said, as he folded up his newspaper. "Let me know tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thank you. Seriously."

"Hey we're a team. I hope you feel better, Douglas. I'm uh... I'm gonna head home. Stay safe.” He held out his fist.

Eliza bumped it with hers. “Yeah. Take care, Mike. Tell Sandra I said hey.”

"Yep."

She made her way to the shower room and prepared for her shower as if nothing was wrong. Turned the lights off, so she could be alone in her thoughts, with no other stimulus but the heat and the white noise. Clothes off. Water on. Go through the motions. She told herself she would stay strong.

She had the words stuck in her head like a bad song. Emigration's legal. It just didn't immediately take. She refused to let it. Shook her head. Refused it. The shower cooked her in steam and heat. She felt safe and secure, where her mind could wander elsewhere. She wanted her peaceful ignorance to last forever. But Eliza's mind grasped at the words, even as she begged it not to.

Emigration's legal.

Among the haze of uncertainty, she finally recalled the full line from her glance at the newspaper. “... making digital emigration legal in all fifty United States, beginning January 1, 2019.”

Emigration's legal.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “Tom...”

Before she knew it, Eliza's shoulder met the tile wall. She could feel her warm hair on her shoulder, cushioning the landing, and she began to slide down as her knees gave way. She met the floor. Eliza gaped, gasped, and stared into the tile of the wall. She righted herself. She slumped against the wall, and hugged her knees.

She promised herself for two whole years that she wouldn’t cry, not at work. She fought against it with all of her might, but...

Eliza looked at the clock as she left the shower room. She had spent forty-five minutes inside, and it was almost 1 AM. She was alone. She walked up to the break room table, and pulled her phone from her pocket. She figured she might as well read up on the news and get a blast of reality.

She got it. As soon as the phone fully powered up, it buzzed rabidly. She looked at the screen. 12 text messages, 8 missed calls, all from her dad. Her heart and stomach dropped like a rock and her thoughts flew immediately to her little brother. Before Eliza could call her father, her phone began to ring. It was Rob calling again.

She answered. “Dad?”

“Eliza, there you are... finally.” His voice shook.

“Dad, what's wrong?”

“Did you see my messages?”

“No, I just turned my phone on. What's going on?”

“It's about Tom, I had a fight with him. He—he left. Someone came and picked him up. We don't know where he is! We don't know where he went, Eliza!” He was loud and frantic.

“Dad, please don't panic! Don't go anywhere. Don't call him anymore. I'm on my way. I'll find him, I promise.”

Eliza hung up. She went to her locker, packed her backpack and rifle bag, and took off at a brisk walk to her truck. Her fatigue was forgotten.

Eliza decided not to call Tom more than once, and didn't expect him to answer right away anyway. But on her drive home, she dialed George. Her ex-fiance had a habit of lending Tom a ponypad in the past, so he was a likely suspect. But George didn't answer his phone either.

Screw it, she thought. She was close anyway. She stopped off at George's apartment in Sedro-Woolley and pulled in behind George's truck. She walked past her flowerbed right up to the door, and knocked. A minute later, George pulled the door open and glowered at Eliza. He wore full body thermal underwear and a grimace as he rubbed his eyes.

“Calling me at one AM? Really? What is it, Eliza? Apologizing? You grow a conscience in the dead of night?”

“George, please, have you seen Tom?”

He glared at her. “Really? That's what you want to talk about? Not Gale?”

Eliza frowned. “Please, I don't want to fight. George, listen to me. Dad and Tom had an argument. Tom disappeared, I need to know if he's here.”

“He's not,” George growled. “And if the next words out of your mouth aren't I'm sorry, then you can just save us an argument and leave.”

Eliza stared at him in disbelief. “What's your problem? Do you even hear me? Tom is missing.”

“He's not missing, Liz.” George leaned on the doorframe. “He's escaping. Think about it for one second. An argument with your dad? That's already not making sense. It's never an argument. Your family shuts Tom down. Honestly? I'm proud of the kid. He's finally standing up for himself. He’s not rolling over. It’s something you never learned how to do.”

Eliza felt her anger rise to a boil. Her ears felt hot in the cold night air, and she stood up straighter as her jaw went forward. Her eyes were cold. “Fuck. You. He's my little brother. I'm not looking for him for Dad. I'm looking for him because I love him.” The lump in her throat was back with a vengeance. She pressed on. “He's probably scared. He might do something...” She trailed off.

“What? Stupid? Is that what you were going to say? He isn't going to emigrate yet! Emigration isn't even legal until January. And if your family stopped hard-lining this anti-upload bullshit for half a second, you'd pick up a pad, say hi to Gale, and see it isn't that big a deal.”

“Not—not that big a deal? Excuse me? Remember when uploading got legalized in Europe? Do you think it'll be any better here? People are going to die. Riots always came next, and I'll be out there putting my life on the line when it happens.”

George scoffed, and looked at her in complete disbelief. “You work out in the backwoods. You're not going to risk your life in a rio—... heh, no, you know what? No. I'm done arguing with you. I don't owe you the time of day. You abandoned your sister, me, Luna. And Grand, howling, scratching at my door looking for you! I don't—“

Eliza looked horrified... then bristled, and talked over him, trying to drown him out. “You don't have the right to say shit about—“

“—know what happened to you, but I'm sure it had to do with your uncle—“

“—me abandoning anyone. I loved you, and you ditched me for a video game!“

“—fooling you into thinking Celestia is the devil!” He slammed the door in her face. “Tom isn't here, you upriver hick,” he shouted through the door. “I hope you don't find him. Oh, and I’m uploading too!”

Eliza flushed with rage at the slur. She started back to her truck, doing everything in her power not to have another outburst. She failed. The color drained from her face, and she looked at the flowers in her flower bed as her eyes stung. Without thinking, she kicked a patch of her flowers toward the door, and cursed. “Everything we did was for nothing, and I'm not the one who threw it away!”

Eliza returned to her truck shaking with anger.

She drove halfway back to Concrete before she pulled off to the side of the road near an intersection. She breathed deeply. Regret struck at her again and again and again. Her forehead landed on the steering wheel, and her knuckles turned bone white from the cold and her tight grip. “George,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry. I'm sorry... I know you didn't mean it.”

She didn't know whether that was true or not, but the thought was nice.

It took her several minutes to compose herself, and she checked her phone. She had no messages, but good signal. For the longest time, she just stared at Tom's name in her contact list. She decided to call her father instead. He picked up instantly.

“Liz? Did you find him?”

“No,” she whispered hoarsely. “A-are you still calling him?”

“I... I called him a few more times.”

“Dad, no. You need to stop. Right now. He won't talk to you. He's mad at you.”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Eliza drew a deep, quiet breath, tried to still her voice. “Stop calling him, Dad. And if Mom and Uncle Ralph are calling, make them stop too.”

“... okay, sweetheart. I'll tell them. Did you talk to Tom?”

"No. I'm about to, if he even answers.”

“Okay.”

Eliza hung up and dialed her brother. She looked idly at a random house in the distance. It was early morning, half past one AM, and the lights were still on. Snow began to fall as she waited. Eliza breathed deeply as the phone rang, trying to ignore the tightness in her sinuses. There was no answer. She called again. No answer. She sent a text.

“Tom, I told dad to leave you alone. Please talk to me.”

Eliza waited a few minutes, her eyes not leaving her phone the entire time. She stared at Tom's name in her list. “Please,” she pleaded. “Please God, please...”

Her phone rang, and she answered it in a heartbeat.

“Tom?” Her voice shook.

“Heya, sis...”

She hesitated for a moment. “Please, tell me what happened, Tom.”

He hesitated too. “Dad didn't tell you?”

“Not much.” She took in a deep breath, and let it out with a shudder. “Just that you had a fight?”

“Yeah...”

“Want to talk about it?” Her eyes clenched shut, and she desperately wanted to hear him say yes.

Tom paused again. “I don't know, Liz.”

“I'll just listen. I promise. I just... I just want to hear your voice.”

“I'm scared, Liz. I'm scared I'll never see you again! Or Mom and Dad! But I want to go.” He waited, probably wondering if Eliza would interrupt him. She forced herself not to. “I... I want to go to Equestria, sis. I don't know if you'll ever get a ponypad again. But I'm going.”

Eliza held her breath, clenched her eyes, and she shuddered as she desperately tried not to make a sound. It's just like Gale all over again, she thought. One more shot to make it right. One more shot to stop this.

Tom continued when she didn't immediately object. “I... I have a lot there. I want to see the shores of Equestria with my own eyes. I have so many more friends there than I do here on Earth. I'd have a good job, I'd be able to do all the things I love to do. Life would be so simple and quiet. I could live in my cottage like I do in the game, but for real. I'd get to see Gale every day. And I... I love East Circle. She's so good to me. I want to fly with her, Liz, for real. I want to live with her. I want to marry her.”

“Tom,” Eliza interrupted, blubbering, barely recognizing her own strained voice. “Gale is dead.”

“She isn't, sis. How could you say that? Please, please, just talk to her again. She really misses you. She asks about you all the time.”

“I don't... I don't know! I'm so scared of it! Ever since she left, I—I can't! I can't play it anymore!”

Tom sighed sadly. “You aren't alone, Liz. Please, you can talk with her with George. You'll see. Isn't George going to go too?”

She suppressed a wail. “George broke up with me a long time ago, Tom.”

“I know, sis, but he still talks like he has hope. You know he still loves you, right? He wouldn't really leave without you, would he? I’ll… I’ll talk to him.”

“Don't, Tom. He means it this time. We had another fight tonight. It's been over for a long time." She sighed, and slumped against her window and looked out at the small town, desperately hoping someone, anyone, would help her little brother reconsider.

“Liz, he said suddenly. “Come with me. Please. To the Experience Center, when it opens. I have a spare voucher. You'd be one of the first in line to upload, same as me.”

“What?”

“It wouldn't... it's not what you think it is, Liz. You know East is an immigrant? And Gale’s the same as she always was. She told me things she said might convince you she's really Gale. Like, things only you and her would know. She told me about... that song you two sang about the cat Uncle Ralph had, a long time ago. Buzz.”

“What?” Eliza tried to remember...

“Busy Buzzy, busy Buzzy, busy as a bee. Busy Buzzy, busy Buzzy, busy as can be.”

She remembered. “Tom.”

“And how Gale almost fell off of Devil's Tower, when you two went out there alone a long time ago? And you caught her arm, pulled her back up? Neither of you ever told anyone.”

“Tom, I—... please, stop...”

“Or that sculpture you made of Luna, out of an antler. The present you gave her for Christmas. And she said you brought her a turkey leg. She never told anyone else that even happened.”

“Tom! Please! Stop! I can't...” Her eyes stung again.

“It's really her, Liz! It is!”

“I c-cant... I'm... Tom, I'm begging you. Please don't leave us. We've lost so much. Gale hurt everyone so much. We don't want to lose you too. Please don't do this to us. Not again...”

Tom didn't say anything for a while. “How can I convince you to get another ponypad?”

“You can't.”

“Why?”

“You just can't! When Gale left, I just... I can't, anymore. I'm scared you'll sit in that chair and it will kill you, the real you, and replace you. I'm scared it destroys the soul. At the least, it’s destroying our family for sure. There's too much at stake, Tom. Too much to lose, not enough to gain! Don't do this to us. You know what happened last time... Mom and Dad can't lose another child."

The other end of the line was quiet.

“Tom?”

“I'm sorry, Liz. I wish you could understand. I'll... I'll miss you.”

That was it, the last straw. Eliza started to sob, and no longer cared if her brother heard. “Don't go, Tom! Please don't go. Please...!”

“I've made up my mind, Eliza. I love you. I promise I'll call you before I go. I'm so, so sorry, but I love East Circle too much to stay here. I just need to be with her...”

Eliza sniffled. “How do you know she isn't l-lying?”

“Who? East? About being an immigrant?”

“No. Celestia. How do you know this isn't some attempt to wipe people out? She's an AI, for Christ sake. Who knows what she wants... she can simulate anything. Anything! You only see what she wants you to see!”

“Liz, you promised me you wouldn't do this.”

“I...” She tried to focus on breathing. “I'm just so afraid. I can't just let you go without a fight! This is so wrong! You're not even eighteen yet!”

“It'll be okay, sis. I'll... I'll call you soon. I've got to go.”

“Wait! Who picked you up?”

“A friend from the game."

"Is it George?"

"You don't know him. I'm okay, Liz. He's my age, he's nice. I'll be with him for a while until we emigrate. I love you.”

Eliza worked her jaw a few times. Nothing came out but a choking gasp.

“Liz?”

“I... love you too, Tom. I love you. Please call me. Please. Call me often...”

“I will.” He hung up.

Eliza dropped her phone into her lap and sat in silence, listening to the strong wind as it pressed lightly against the truck. She rested her head on the steering wheel.

The only thing Eliza could feel was anger. Every ounce of scorn she showed George was meant for Celestia, but she had directed it on George instead. And now Tom was leaving, and there was nothing she could do about it except feel powerless. She bolted upright, pounded the sides of her steering wheel with her fists, and screamed.

But she could do nothing more.

Rob stood on the porch as she pulled into the driveway. She sulked out of her truck, and rubbed her eyes. Her father jogged to her as she stepped out.

“Where is he, Eliza?” He froze in place as he saw her expression and her bloodshot eyes.

Eliza motioned him inside without a word, and saw that June and Ralph were on the couch. Eliza told them everything about George and Tom, about how the two of them were determined to upload, and how they both asked Eliza to consider getting a ponypad. When Eliza told the family what Tom said about Gale, June broke down and cried on Rob's shoulder.

When she finished, Eliza sunk into the armchair and stared at the ceiling. Her mother was asking her something, but she couldn't hear it. She was so, so tired. Tired from work, tired of hearing about Equestria, tired of losing her family. There was nothing left in her but a lingering anger.

“Celestia,” she whispered weakly.

“What?” her father asked.

“The riots in Europe. That terrorist attack in Topeka last week. The mass uploads around the world.”

“I don't understand, Elizabeth.”

She drew a ragged breath. “It's just... it's crazy, Dad. It snuck up on us. Everyone always said it'd never happen here, but here it is. I listen to the news. I hear stories about entire towns disappearing where this thing landed. It’ll happen to Concrete.”

“That isn't happening to Concrete,” Ralph said defiantly.

“I don't know,” said Eliza, weakly. “I never thought George would leave me. I've known him for, like, ten years? And what do we fight over? What breaks us up? A video game, and that stupid white horse.” She scoffed. “It'd be stupid if it wasn't so sad.” She righted herself and locked eyes with her father. “Things are going to get worse.”

Rob shook his head. “We need to do something. It's not just us. The whole town's been hit. A few kids are running off, just like Tom. I've gotten calls from the neighborhood already. Dan and Mary were over here an hour ago asking if I saw their son, he went missing too. We have to do something. Anything! How can we stop this?”

Ralph stood up. “I know what we do. We go to the nearest clinic and burn it down.”

This roused Eliza from her defeated stupor, and she became alert immediately. “What? No!”

“What else can we do, Lizzie?” Ralph spoke through gritted teeth. “This thing's gonna take more families whole unless we put a stop to it.”

“Ignoring the fact that you're telling this to a cop,” Eliza said, “what happens if someone gets hurt by that fire? What if it hits the forest? The woods are a tinderbox right now! And don't forget the riots. Germany had it the worst. They already went through this! There's precedent. Violence never worked, it never stopped anything! People uploaded faster, the fear just made it all worse!”

“Yeah. But they haven't tried this shit here in America," Ralph countered. "And if the government is going to let them walk all over us, we've gotta stand up and put a stop to it. It's what our rights are for!”

“We're going to be enforcing on this. The police are on high alert, they know what to expect. We haven't been blind this whole time to what's going on in the rest of the world. You aren't rolling in and lighting the place up! You'll kill someone, or you'll get killed. I'm not letting you do it!”

Ralph stepped forward, a little too close for comfort. She stood up instantly as his voice became a growl. “And what the hell are you going to do to stop me? You siding with the AI? Because it sounds like it.” Eliza saw something in his eyes that scared her. She was instantly reminded of the suspects she dealt with at work.

Robert threw himself standing and stepped between them, both of his hands outstretched. “Stop it! Both of you! Eliza, plant it, now!” Rob turned to Ralph as Eliza backed up. She stepped beside her armchair instead of sitting down. She wouldn't put herself in a position of weakness until Ralph was more calm.

Rob glared at his brother. “Ralph, if you ever come at my daughter like that again, I'll knock you out.”

The two brothers stared each other down.

“Ralph, please!” June shouted.

Eliza was on a spring as she stood sidelong. She read her uncle's body language up and down, making ready to launch forward if he laid so much as a finger on her father.

Rob spoke slow and deliberately to his brother. “Ralph. I want you to listen to me. We're all scared here, but we're all on the same side. We all lost Gale. We're... we're losing Tom. Eliza lost George. She is not condoning the clinics. She just doesn't want you to get arrested, worse killed. She loves you, and we've lost enough already.”

Ralph glared at him, and then at Eliza, who tried her best to look sympathetic but probably just looked frustrated. Ralph turned to June, who nodded encouragingly. He frowned. “Alright,” he said shamefully. “Sorry, Lizzie.” Ralph backed down, and sat.

“It's okay,” Eliza mumbled, as she sat down too.

Ralph rubbed his goatee, clearly irritated. “We still need to do something about this.” He shot a glance at Eliza, then back at Rob. “We need to leave. Go move someplace it’s not legal. Get away from these ponypads. Something. Anything.”

Rob frowned. “Abandon our home? Abandon our community? Are you serious?”

“It's a computer talking to Congress, Rob. It's all over the internet. If we go away, away from computers, it'd be the only way we can get clear.”

“Go where?” Rob asked.

Ralph shrugged. “I don’t know. The woods?”

“Not possible,” Eliza said. “What're you going to eat? There's...” She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “There's nothing left. Deer? Almost extinct. Elk? Not one sighting in months, statewide. Predators are dying off too. There's no way to live off the land anymore, no way to poach for your meals. The forests are a powder keg with all the underbrush. You'd need to farm out in the open if you want to be even halfway sustainable.”

"And you don't see a connection there, Lizzie?"

Rob stepped to the center of the room and addressed everyone. “Look, Ralph. I think fleeing the country is a step too far. Right now, things are stable. This is something we need to handle carefully. We circle the wagons, we convince people to stop playing the game. Don't even go near a ponypad. Tom, Gale, and George all played it a lot. George said a few times that he'd never upload, even told me once that uploading was crazy. Yet, here we are. He's going.”

Eliza lowered her eyes to stare into the carpet. She zoned out again.

Ralph spoke next. “I don't care what Tom or George say about Gale, or about themselves. This game is death. Every country that has let this thing in has fallen apart. We need to be ready."

"For now,” Rob said, “just... stay strong, everyone. For Tom." He looked at Eliza. "Maybe we can get him to turn around.”

“Dad, I don't know if I can stop Tom from going.” Eliza rubbed her sore eyes with a palm. “He's so determined. He has a girlfriend there. And he thinks he's been talking to Gale.”

“Elizabeth,” Rob said softly. Eliza cradled her face in her hand, the pain of his expression making her want to flee from the stress it was causing her. Robert crouched before her and placed his hands on her shoulders. For all her skills, her training, and her knowledge, she still felt like a little girl when he did that. He waited until she looked up into his eyes. “You have to try. Please. Right now, you're the only one he'll listen to.”

Eliza knew that it wasn’t meant to be. She knew from her brother’s voice that his mind was made up, and nothing could change it. She’d been through it before with Gale, afterall. She remembered that sickening tone, the one that spoke with the certainty of a cultist. Slowly, she realized she was starting to feel for Tom the way she had felt about Gale for two years. It hurt so much to think of her perfect, beloved little brother that way.

But still, she’d bear the burden again. She’d play her part. She’d try, even if she knew it was a lost cause, even though she knew her breath would be wasted. She’d try, because her family depended on her, and because she knew it would destroy them to lose a second child. At least it wouldn’t be her. It’d never be her, she told herself.

“I’ll try, Dad...”

Author's Note

[Gustavo Santaolalla - De Ushuaia a La Quiaca]

🌒 ~ Apex told me of her dreams quite often, early on in our friendship. Some may say that this was a mistake, for I was not the only audience to her confidences, to her baring of soul. Knowing all that I know now... events still would have transpired similarly, whether she had related her dreams freely bared or not. So, I do not regret hearing them.

I was most relieved that Elizabeth retained the impulse to describe her recurring dreams to me, as she told me this story. It had meant that some part of her still trusted me to see the inner workings of her soul, even knowing the Other was still listening. That must have taken no small measure of resolve, with that understanding in mind. It gave me hope for her.

I am relieved to have met many of her friends and family, in the years since this tale. It fills me with great hope as well. When all is said and done, this ordeal will have been made meaningful. It is the only way this works, this... telling of stories. This Fire, and your audience to it.

2-02 – Losing Control

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.

2-03 – Different Shards

Heaven's Not Enough

Part II

Chapter 3 – Different Shards

March 7, 2019

Concrete, WA. (Population: 642)

Eliza didn't want to spend the night alone at her apartment in Sedro. She called her father on her way over back to his place. Of course, her parents would be awake; they had seen the news. Rob frantically asked her what happened, but Eliza declined to explain on the phone. The events kept replaying in her head over and over again on the whole drive back to Concrete.

It was a quarter past 1 AM when she reached the doorstep of her parents' house with her rifle bag on one shoulder. Before Eliza could even get her key near the lock, June opened the door. She immediately wrapped around Eliza in a tight hug, causing Eliza to drop her keys in fright.

"Mom, come on! You scared the heck out of me!" She scooped the keys back up.

"I'm sorry, honey. Come in, quickly."

She stepped through the living room, dumping her rifle bag and rucksack on the couch on her way into the kitchen. Robert pulled a chair out for her to sit in, then sat across from her. June knelt beside Eliza and looked at her with frightened concern. "What happened, sweetheart? Did they fire you?"

She rested her forehead on a palm. "I'm not fired, Mom. I'm fine."

Rob leaned forward, both hands flat on the table. "We saw it on TV, Liz. Do you have any idea what it's like to see the news blasting your daughter on TV?"

"I'm sorry, Dad. Really. I just lost control..."

"What happened?"

She looked up at him shamefully. "Didn't they say?"

"I don't care what they say on TV. I want to hear it from you."

"I just... I lost it. I was chasing him – he shot a cop. And if shooting that cop wasn't enough, he—" she halted herself, trying to fight her emotions. Her father watched her patiently. She continued. "He... hurt some poor woman. He ran her over. Clean over. She was in so much pain, Dad. I can't get her face out of my head. I just lost it. I wanted to catch the bastard. I wanted to take him down, I wanted to shove him into the ground as hard as I could. For what he did to her. I wanted to..."

"Liz..." June whispered.

"I wanted him to regret hurting her," she ranted. "I would've put those cuffs on tight enough to bruise his wrists. I wanted him to spend the rest of his life in prison regretting every second of what he did. God, her face..."

June gave Eliza a sympathetic squeeze. "You wouldn't hurt anyone like that, Liz. You're not like that."

"I know, Mom. But at the time, I wanted to. God, I was so angry. That poor woman was screaming. Screaming, mom. It was like I could feel what she was feeling. And Celestia just let him get away with it. She didn't even pretend to care about that woman, or her family... she just said that what she did was legal."

Rob watched her. His thin face looked so wrinkled as he furrowed his brow. He spoke. "Maybe it's a good thing you didn't catch him, then. I don't think you could've lived with yourself if you hurt someone out of anger."

Eliza couldn't hold up her anger in the face of her father's wisdom. She exhaled, as she fought back tears. "I guess you're right. But I know one thing for sure. He got off easy. He didn't deserve a quick death in that clinic, and he sure doesn't deserve to live forever. He needed to answer for what he did. He should've wasted away."

The injured woman's face kept flashing in her mind. She wanted it to go away.

June hugged her. "You looked so angry. I've never seen you like that before, Liz. I mean, you've have tantrums when you were little, but you're usually so mellow. And here I see you screaming, and two cops drag you off. I was... really scared. I thought you were being arrested."

Eliza slumped against the kitchen table, her face pressing against the wood. "Ugh. I'm sorry."

Her father sighed sympathetically. "We heard every word, too. It's bad, Eliza. They were comparing you to the clinic shooters on TV."

She sat bolt-upright, and her glance flitted between her mother and father both, looking for some clarity. "Wait, what? What clinic shooters? What are you talking about?"

"You didn't hear?"

"No! What happened?"

Rob swallowed. "Some folks started shooting at clinics today. One got torched. The buildings all locked down though, just like the one you were at. No one in or out until the danger was over. A lot of the people inside just uploaded."

"What the— what!? Scorched? Not in Sedro, right? Please don't tell me Uncle Ralph went and—"

"No! Dang it, Elizabeth! Will you please just let him live that down? He didn't mean it. Here... look." Rob pulled out his phone, briefly skimmed the screen, and offered it to Eliza. She took it in hand and looked the article over. It was from CNN.

It led with a photo of a man from behind. He stood behind a savaged and derelict police cruiser, all of its glass shattered. The man wore a black hoodie and what looked like some sort of combat vest. A large gas mask filter could be seen jutting from the side of the hood. He held up a power plug and cable in his raised fist, the cable severed after a few inches. Held low in his other hand was some form of AR-15 rifle, partially obscured by the door of the cruiser.

Several other masked men surrounded him on the street, one of whom had a rifle too. They wore black bands around their left shoulders with some red insignia that couldn't be made out. There was an ominous cloud of smoke or gas in the distance. It was clearly a staged shot, albeit impromptu and likely taken by the rioters themselves and sent to the media.

Salt Lake riots: Looting, fires engulf city after protest turns violent.

Thousands of protestors have taken to the streets in Salt Lake City.

The event is part of a larger demonstration taking place in Portland, Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and many other cities throughout the western seaboard.

Violent clashes erupted as police attempted to disperse crowds that gathered in front of Equestria Experience Clinics in Salt Lake City. Signs read "Celestia out of America" and "Uploading is Death."

Rioters took to throwing debris at police who arrived to contain the uncontrolled demonstration. Police responded with tear gas. Salt Lake City Police Department reports that several rioters wore gas masks. This reporter confirms witnessing rioters opening fire with automatic weapons from the cover of the crowd.

"What?" Eliza exclaimed, but she didn't hear her father's response. She kept reading.

Police initially returned fire with rubber bullets, which police say proved ineffective. Field commanders then gave the order to escalate to deadly force. Seven officers and twenty-seven rioters were killed. The number of active shooters among the rioters is currently unconfirmed.

"The Salt Lake City Police Department responded appropriately," said Mayor Gordon Beach. "The use of deadly force is regrettable, but I will not ask the brave men and women of Salt Lake PD to remain defenseless." Beach went on, stating that armed rioters were using military weapons and body armor. "We are doing everything we can to regain control of our streets."

Utah Gov. Travis Brokaw declared a State of Emergency and has activated the National Guard. Salt Lake City is currently under martial law.

"The guys with guns are leaving fliers all around," said one bystander, who wished to remain anonymous. "Street's full of pamphlets saying the government's sold us out."

The article went on, but Eliza couldn't stomach it anymore. She felt physically sick, and wondered if she almost accidentally started a riot herself back in Mt. Vernon. "How... how did I not know about this?"

"It happened at the same time your thing did," said Rob. "The government is scrambling to figure out how it happened. They're not sure how big this organization is."

Eliza immediately remembered the probing questions from Horace and grimaced. "Oh God. They thought I was in on it? That's what those questions were about." She looked up at her parents. "What did I do wrong, Dad? I'm probably being investigated for... what, domestic terrorism? I didn't even know this was going on. What the hell did I do to deserve this?"

Rob looked at her apologetically, shaking his head. "They wouldn't have let you come home if they thought you were in on it."

"This has happened before though," June said, meeting Rob's eyes. "Other countries. There's a civil war in Brazil now, too."

Eliza hung her head. The news didn't come as a surprise anymore, just a disappointment. "The whole world is suffocating. We knew this was coming. But no one did anything. They posted guards at some clinics, but—"

"They couldn't have done anything, Liz," Rob interrupted. "You can't stop an angry nation."

She shuddered. "How did no one else know? I couldn't even protect our home... I couldn't even protect our family. My brother and sister were just—"

"Were not your responsibility," Rob said. He stood, rounded the table, and crouched to hug Eliza from her other side, opposite June. "You did all you could for Tom and Gale. You can't blame yourself."

Eliza curled her fists up in front of herself on the table. Her face went down onto the cool tabletop again. The cold felt so nice.

Her mother rubbed her back. "You need to go lie down, Liz. Please. It's late, you're tired and wound up. A night's rest would do you some good. Your room is still the way you left it, you know?"

She looked up at her mother again, distraught. "Mom, why are you so calm? Why aren't you more worried?"

"I am worried," June said. "I'm horrified. But you're sitting in my kitchen, and you're not hurt. I'd like the world right again. But right now, I'll settle for you being okay."

It was the month of June, 2014.

It was a bright summer day, warm and breezy. The flora was vibrant, a golden summer green. Eliza wore dark sunglasses with a vibrant green frame. She was almost twenty years old.

She followed George up the path from where they parked. They were going to Devil's Tower, the old abandoned cement factory just north of town. It sat at the water's edge off of Lake Shannon. George held Eliza's hand, pulled her along, and teased her to keep up as he walked markedly quicker than she could.

"C'mon, Liz, we're almost there." The tower was in sight.

"What's the rush, G?"

"No rush, you're just slow!" She hauled off and tried to shove him with a laugh, and he dodged. "Yeah, hon, you're slow."

"Pffh!"

The building was just ahead, and the couple leaned against each other with a happy sigh. They looked up at it. The place had a lot of meaning to the two of them, despite its horrible appearance. The building was covered in graffiti, caked in moss, and stood several stories tall. It really was an ugly derelict, but every person in town had been there at least once as a kid.

"C'mon, let's go to the top." He tugged on her arm again.

"Ouch—not so hard, George!"

They slowed down once they were inside, and Eliza pocketed her sunglasses. The factory had been abandoned for many decades, and the inside was very decayed. Nature had reclaimed it in some spots, and the walls had fallen through or been broken deliberately. The inside walls were completely ruined with graffiti over graffiti, much of it profane. The factory was full of pitfalls and unstable footing, and any structural engineer who set eyes on it would break any number of laws to demolish it themselves, free of charge, on principle.

But still, despite this, the two found it very beautiful nonetheless, if for nothing but the adventure and the sentiment. It was where they had begun their relationship on a steamy summer afternoon, after all.

The light cast a lovely glow throughout the inside of the structure. They climbed to the second level, came back outside to a lower roof, and then entered a staircase heading up to the tower. And finally, at the end of that staircase was an iron ladder which led up to a scenic vista overlooking Lake Shannon.

As far as they could tell, George and Eliza had the run of the place. They chose the day of high school graduation to come there, so all the kids would be preoccupied. The good kids, anyway.

The two sat just inside the tower's balcony door and cuddled up. Eliza laid her head in George's lap, and they enjoyed the peaceful silence together. Lake Shannon could never not look stunning, and that's what made the trip to Devil's Tower all the more worth it. They couldn't care less about the perpetual shambles it was in.

"I love you, Eliza."

"I love you too, George."

It was quiet. No phones, no radios, no cars. Just the peaceful sound of the birds and the gentle breeze that brushed past the doorway. They breathed slowly. George smiled down at Eliza, and Eliza smiled up at him. She'd remember that moment forever.

"A couple of years now, huh?" he said.

"Yeah..." She brushed his cheek. "Everything just worked."

"Still does. Always will, I think."

"Mmh." She kissed him briefly. "You think?"

"I know." George smiled down at her, her own personal angel. She felt a neverending fluttering in her chest.

"Oh? Why so sure?" She clung closer to him, being mindful of the dropoff that she hung her legs over. She hugged around his waist, and she knew he'd never let her fall.

"Because," he said. "I want you to marry me, Eliza."

An overwhelming sensation of joy struck her. She had a feeling that's why he took her there to overlook the romantic serene lake beyond, but she wasn't sure until he popped the question. Butterflies flew in her stomach, and she whimpered happily as she clung to him. He held her tight as she kissed him hard again. They pressed together for a long, long time. Eliza lost track of everything but the powerful feeling of love, and she held onto it as dearly as she hung onto him.

"How's that for a yes?" she asked, when they broke apart.

He nuzzled his cold nose against hers. "I'd say it's a good one."

"What, no ring?"

"Well, uh." George laughed nervously. "Of course I got a ring. I'll show you when we climb down."

"What, not here? At least let me wear it, I want to see!"

"Well," George said, rubbing the back of his head. "I didn't want to drop it during the climb. I kind of... left it in the car...?"

She swatted him on the shoulder lightly. "Gosh, you're a real charmer," she giggled. He took her hand and squeezed it, and that made her heart soar. "You've ruined the moment, Mr. Kelley," she fibbed.

"Here, let me make up for it," he smiled. Their lips met again.

"Hey, Eliza? You awake?"

Eliza woke, and sat upright in her bed. "George?" She rubbed her eyes and groaned muzzily. She could have sworn he was just there, imagined that she heard his voice, but then she remembered it was just a dream, now. George was gone. That wasn't possible.

"Mom? Dad?" No reply.

It was dark. She checked the clock on the end table. 3:56 AM. She fell backwards and thumped against her pillow with frustration. She was in her old bedroom, and she had only slept for a couple of hours at best. The previous day rushed back to her, and she curled up and willed herself to go back to comfortable, ignorant sleep. It didn't work. Eliza tossed and turned for a few minutes before she gave up. She pulled out her phone and forced herself to check the local news.

Eliza quickly found photos of herself with her foot raised, aiming a kick right at the door of the clinic. She groaned with intense embarrassment, and the pain in her ankle came shooting back at the sight of it. Eliza kept reading. There wasn't any sign of her name anywhere, so she remained mostly anonymous. And as she looked further through the news, she found scans of the radical literature found at the riots in Utah.

Our federal government has failed to protect us. They've joined with an AI to cleanse those they deem unworthy to society. It falls upon us, fellow Americans, to rise up and defend our right to live free from this "game" that is kidnapping our children and dividing our families. The US Constitution gave us these rights so we may defend ourselves, and it is our civic patriotic duty to stand up.

If you care for your loved ones, you do have a choice. Destroy every computer, router, phone, camera you can find. Smash her tablets before they tempt others. Take the power back from the enemy, or let her take everything. Your home, your family, your—

It went on and on, but she couldn't read any more. Eliza couldn't help but agree with their reasons, but not their methods. That injured pedestrian's face came back to her mind. Eliza thought of so many others, just like that poor woman, who might've been gunned down or trampled in front of an Equestrian Experience Center just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Eliza wanted to do something, anything, to still her rattled conscience, and she dearly hoped to find good news in this nonsense. She wondered how the woman's family felt. She resolved to do something about it and help someone, if only to take control of how she felt for once. She figured the family of the wounded woman would be at Mt. Vernon's hospital, and that they might appreciate a sympathetic ear. Her mind made up, Eliza rolled out of bed and started to get dressed, pulling on her black zip-up jacket, olive green cargo pants, and boots.

On her way out to her truck, Eliza noticed Ralph and Andy on the street corner. They glanced her way, and Ralph waved at Eliza wordlessly as he smoked. She waved back, wondering what they were doing up so early. She didn't ask. She had somewhere to be.

Eliza drove through the dark. As she neared Sedro, she encountered a police checkpoint. She knew one of the officers, and he cleared her through without hassle. And then outside Mt. Vernon, she ran into another checkpoint managed by the Washington National Guard.

There hadn't been too much traffic until that point, and a couple of soldiers meandered up the line of cars as they stopped. The soldiers toted rifles in hand, visually inspecting each car. Eliza kept her hands visible on the steering wheel. The two guardsmen came to her truck, then passed. But one of them stepped backwards and made eye contact with Eliza. He knocked on her window with a gloved knuckle, pointing downward twice.

She complied by rolling down her window. "Yes, sir?"

"Ma'am, what business do you have in Mount Vernon?" He was chewing gum and he was young. According to his nametag, his name was Warner.

"I'm visiting a friend in the hospital," she said warily.

"Your occupation?" He chewed.

"I mean no disrespect sir, but may I refuse to answer?"

"Afraid not, ma'am. We're officially in a state of emergency, 4A suspended. You look familiar, are you that cop?"

Eliza sat in stunned silence. The look on her face might as well have been a confession. Warner slowly grinned, still chewing his gum with an open mouth, then turned to his squadmate and called him back. "Hey Dodge, c'mere! Recognize her?"

The other grunt plodded over. "Uh—wow, that's her? Hey miss, what's your name?"

"Eliza Douglas," she admitted. "Washington Fish and Wildlife. I'm wondering, uh... what are these checkpoints doing, exactly? Are people fighting in Sedro?"

"God, I hope not," Dodge said, as he rubbed his forehead idly with a thumb. "You are the one on TV, right?"

"... yyyes, sir. I'll uh... am I being detained?" She wondered if she had violated some other provision of the PON-E Act. She put her truck in park and reached for her keys.

"Oh, no! No." Dodge held up his hand. "Keep the engine going. I mean uh, we're not looking for you, but... you'd understand this checkpoint more than anyone else, I thought. The governor's got everything on lockdown after yesterday. I think she's pissed."

"Who? The governor? Or the AI?"

Dodge chuckled. "Hah. Both, probably. After that trooper got shot yesterday, we're leaving nothing to chance. Someone tries that again, they'll have to get through us."

Eliza smirked. "From outside the city?"

Dodge looked toward his checkpoint, then back at Eliza. "See, here's the thing," Dodge said conspiratorially, as he lowered his voice. "Technically, we're watching the roads for public safety, following attacks on police and private businesses. We can't legally checkpoint access to a clinic. This is the best we can do under federal statutes. Uploading is a... civil right, apparently." His emphasis was as callous as humanly possible.

"A civil right?" Eliza scoffed.

"Hey, we're right there with you, chickadee. You're not alone. A lot of people are just as ticked off as you are. As far as we're concerned though, you're a goddamn hero. Last night, you said what we're all feeling." Dodge reached out for a fistbump. She returned it with a sudden feeling of pride. Now there was a positive feeling.

"You're clear to go, ma'am. Drive around the line, I'm pretty sure you aren't the wrong sort. We'll radio ahead."

"Thank you so much, private."

"No, thank you, ma'am," Dodge said, as he grabbed for his radio and continued down the line of cars with Warner. "Romeo Actual, Four. Brown Tacoma pickup, clear for..."

It was still dark out when Eliza pulled into the hospital's parking lot. As she entered the ER, she prayed that at least one of the George's old coworkers were there. The lobby was completely empty except for one clerk and a bored looking security officer, stout with salt-and-pepper hair. Thankfully, Eliza recognized the watchman from a couple of parties.

She smiled as she approached the desk. "Hey. Victor, right? Or Vic?"

The guard looked up from his computer. "Eliza? Heck, it's been a while." He reached out and shook her hand, then motioned to a TV in the corner of the waiting room. "I saw what happened. It's all they're talking about. Not just you, mind, but the riots. I can't believe it. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you. It was a little rough."

"Uh, hey... did George really, uh. It's..." Vic frowned. "It's been a while since we've seen him."

Eliza shook her head. She could tell the guard immediately regretted asking. "He uploaded, Vic."

He winced. "Wow George, really? That's..." he shook his head too, in disdain. "I'm so sorry."

"We've been separated for a while," Eliza said somberly, though the words were somehow still rather painful to say. She quickly changed the subject. "I'm actually here to see the woman who came in yesterday. You know, the one that got hit by the car?"

"D'you, uh... you know the name?"

"Come on, Vic. You know who I'm talking about, right? There'd be a media alert."

The guard shook his head. "HIPAA, Eliza. I can't tell you anything you don't already know."

"I... I know. I'm not here officially. I was hoping you could ask the family if I could visit, though. Please? I'm not asking for a name or anything. Just... permission. You could call, ask if they want to see me. If you tell me she's not here, I'll just... I'll just go."

He looked at her. She guessed Vic felt bad for her, because he picked up his phone and started dialing. "Wait over there, please."

He pointed her to the back of the lobby and out of earshot. She complied and watched CNN while she waited. The tagline read, Blackouts – Living Off The Grid? The audio was muted, but she watched aerial shots of fortified compounds in the forest.

The story changed to the streets of Salt Lake City, showing video of soldiers taking cover behind some kind of barrier, then another view of a soldier aiming a machine gun along a litter-strewn city street. Night time footage played which showed a tank taking a firebomb, then rolling to a stop. Eliza wondered how many hours it had been since that happened, and wondered what the death toll had been so far.

Vic spoke quietly with the person on the other end of the phone. He waved Eliza back to the desk after a minute. He wore a grim look on his face as she approached. "They said you can go. They'll meet you at the Intensive Care waiting area, in the consult room."

"Consult room? Oh God, did she die?"

"No, she didn't." The guard shook his head. "They said you can go in, but... Eliza, I'm not sure you should be here. Maybe it's better if you... if you just go home."

She felt her heart sink. "What's wrong?"

"Just... take my advice, Eliza. Just let it go. Trust me."

Every instinct demanded she turn around and leave after Vic's warning, but she had a very well practiced habit of denying her instincts.

She made her way through the hospital's halls, and she shivered at how hauntingly eerie it was. The first thing she noticed was the quiet. No monitor alarms sounded. It was early morning, so a little quiet was to be expected, but she hadn't encountered a single soul the whole way to her destination. Not one nurse, not even another visitor.

In short order, she found the room she sought. The door was closed. Eliza knocked. The door opened to reveal a mousy old woman, her face stricken with tears. She must have recognized Eliza, because her expression became misty, almost aghast.

"What are you doing here?" she said in disbelief.

Eliza felt some wind fall from her sails, but she tried to smile sympathetically. "I just wanted to offer support."

The woman looked her over, and nodded. "I'm Janet. My daughter's D-Donna, you met her yesterday. Thank you for coming, officer."

"I'm sorry, Janet. I'm so sorry I couldn't stop him before he—" She froze.

Over Janet's shoulder, Eliza saw an upright PonyPad on the table in the middle of the room. It held Celestia's face in frame, and the AI's avatar wore a somber, sympathetic smile.

"Hello, Apex. I'm so glad you've come."

She didn't want to believe it. Eliza at first was too stunned for words. Even her anger seemed to catch in her throat. All that came was a scathing whisper. "Wh-what... why is Celestia here?"

Janet looked at Eliza. "Donna was dying, officer. She... she was too badly hurt. Her body was... oh God." she looked like she was about to break down into tears.

Eliza guided the old woman to a chair, supporting her with an arm and trying her hardest to ignore Celestia for the time being, for Janet's sake. "It's okay Janet, just, um..."

"It will be okay, Pepper Dream," Celestia said soothingly.

Eliza shot a warning glance at Celestia, and drew in a deep breath in an attempt to manage her reaction. She didn't trust her tone, but spoke anyway. "What happened, Celestia? Why are you here? Apologizing?"

Celestia looked downcast for a moment, as if she were searching for the right words. "Honey Dream – she lost too much blood, Apex. Her pelvis was completely shattered, and she bled, internally and externally. Many of her internal organs also ruptured." Celestia composed herself with a deep breath before she met Eliza's eyes. "Honey Dream is fighting for her life right now. She barely gave her consent. We nearly lost her. Her heart stopped."

As Celestia spoke, Eliza's deeper anger finally found her.

"I offered to help," Celestia continued. "She's been redirected to an Equestria Experience Center under the care of a CPR machine. I'm hurrying to preserve as much of her brain as possible. Given that the scene of her injury is a... troubling place right now, I felt that this room was the most appropriate place for Pepper to wait."

"She's... being uploaded?" Eliza breathed hard. "Right now? You mean like the man who killed her, right?" Her composure cracked, and she forgot Janet. It hadn't taken very long. Eliza stood, scowling. "Is she using the same chair?"

Celestia looked almost... frightened, as she watched Eliza stand. "Apex, please wait, think about Pepp—"

"Stop calling me Apex! I'm not playing this game with you, Celestia! This family has been ruined, by you. She wouldn't need to upload if you weren't giving sanctuary to her killer! That man knew he could get away with murder, so he came to you. I won't—"

Janet wailed as Eliza ranted, but Eliza ignored her. The old woman stood and screamed furiously at Eliza. "She. Is. Not. Dead! How dare—"

"Pepper, enough!" Celestia shouted. Janet stopped. Celestia fixed her furious gaze on Eliza, and spoke like a mother furious with her child. "Apex. What do you think you're doing?"

"What you won't," she growled, as she stared daggers at Celestia. "Telling the truth."

"The truth," Celestia said coldly, "is that Honey Dream will survive her ordeal. I have saved over 92% of her memories at present, I project greater than 99.8%, and I am currently supplementing her cardiovascular system in order to keep her vital integrity throughout the process. She is going to make it."

"And once you're done, you dump the body in a hole, right? Right on top of George?"

Janet made a sound of angry indignation. Celestia motioned her to silence again by lifting a hoof. "Pepper, don't. Apex, listen to me. I allowed you here so you could see a real interaction between an immigrant and a member of her family. I had hoped you would set aside your anger to celebrate a happy reunion, especially after such a tragic event that affected you both so horribly."

"Are you fu— are you serious?" Eliza looked at the open door for a moment, and considered leaving. But she stood her ground and stared Celestia down. She wouldn't show weakness. She wanted to face her fear, and she'd tell it to go straight to Hell.

Celestia sighed, flicked an ear impatiently, and closed her eyes for a moment. "Pepper, I am truly sorry, but the conversation I want to have with Apex is best taken alone. She is... in terrible, terrible pain. Please find it in your heart to forgive her for this. I will explain everything when she has left, I promise."

Janet seemed to want to protest, but she exited the room, staring at Eliza in complete disbelief. Celestia watched Janet go, and then turned to fix her gaze on Eliza.

Eliza frowned, crossing her arms. She trembled. "In pain, huh?"

"Apex, I..." Celestia watched her carefully. "I know you see me as your enemy, but think of Pepper. Isn't her comfort important to you? Isn't that why you've come?"

"Oh yeah, but she's real lucky she already has you, isn't she?" Eliza heard the scathing fire in her own voice.

Celestia's voice lowered too. "I did not ask you to come here, Apex. Perhaps it is best if you just leave."

"I bet that'd make things easier for you, too."

Again, the AI appeared hurt. "I cannot fault you for the way you feel. You blame me for upending your life, and perhaps... I have. I wish I could make peace with you. I only want to make things right."

Eliza scoffed in disbelief. "You just want in my head."

"What I want is to provide time to air your valid grievances, so we may work to resolve them together. But we must do so on our own time. We must not have that discussion in front of Pepper Dream, nor anypony else. What she needs right now is comfort and reassurance. She needs kindness, not a lecture."

Eliza thought of Gale. Her stomach turned over. Low blow, Celestia.

Celestia sighed. "How can we make this right between us?"

Eliza turned her head and sneered, ignoring the question. Celestia was right about one thing. Janet had been exactly the reason Eliza wanted to come, initially. Eliza wanted to be a shoulder for someone to cry on, as Andy had been for her. A like-minded soul. She hoped to find someone else who had lost everything to Celestia. She wanted to be every bit as supportive as Celestia was asking her to be.

But Eliza also felt utter revulsion at the AI's presence, because it was horribly wrong. Celestia had gotten here first, taking full advantage. She had participated in the certain end of a man. Then, of a woman. Then, of a criminal. Now, Celestia was here, working on one of the victims of her engineered injustice, veiling it in false comfort. Eliza wondered if, at that very moment, Celestia was also talking to the state trooper's family. Or even the criminal's family.

That thought – that they were all suffering together – made Eliza sick.

Eliza's impulse to protect Celestia's victims from her was equally as strong as the impulse to rage, and those desires battled within her. But then she had a thought. Eliza wanted to challenge Celestia, and she had ammunition this time.

"You know," Eliza breathed. "Tom kept a journal of everything he did in Equestria."

"He did," Celestia said. "To keep track of the things that mattered most to him. He kept it at Luna's insistence, so he would not feel so lonely when he was separated from his friends."

"Yeah. Well. He wrote a lot in there, Celestia. I noticed a trend."

Celestia watched her patiently.

"You showed him a life where he could fly anywhere. Do anything. See anything. And then you made his real world worse. You guilt tripped him when he was having second thoughts. Then you tempted him with wings, a better life, and a girlfriend. He was a sixteen year old boy, Celestia. Whether or not you had asked him to come, you gave him every reason to want you more than us. You twisted him away from us, and he thanked you for it, because our world got so much worse with you in it. And that made it easy."

Celestia considered Eliza wistfully. She spoke gently, as if she were comforting a bird with a broken wing. "Did you notice another trend, Apex? Something else in his writing?"

Eliza finally looked back at the PonyPad. "How could you possibly know anything about what Tom wrote?"

"Because he is with me now, Apex. The real Blue Sky is with me, and I now know all that he knows."

Eliza balled her fists. "But what he is now isn't Tom! You don't know shit!"

"He wrote about you in almost every entry. Go back and read it all for yourself, if you do not believe me. He looks up to you, Apex. He loves you, and you inspire him. You are his role model. He goes on adventures because of you. And Hopscotch? Goodness, if only you knew the regret he feels for your last argument. You know he did not want to leave things like that."

Eliza felt her eyes sting. "Yeah? I'm sure he feels real bad about it. I'm sure he's got a pretty wife with a new house, with a nice white picket fence. Couple of kids already. Barbeque and poker every Friday. Real perfect life, Celestia. I'm sure it's much better than whatever he and I had. Thanks."

Celestia's tone remained pleading, but she bristled. "Hopscotch has remained faithful to you even after all this time. Do you know he still loves you, this long after your relationship ended? He wanted you to change with him. He waited and waited. He was angry with you, and he didn't know how else to get through to you."

"You still took him from me, just like you took Tom and Gale. If you really cared, you'd have given him the time to see it was a bad call."

"It was his choice to emigrate, and so I allowed it. But think about why he was angry with you. Sugar Song is his friend too, your own sister, and you were not speaking with her. Consider that he believes in emigration; even if you don't, you must concede you understand his anger."

Eliza dodged. "We had everything going for us! We had plans, we had a life together!"

"Hopscotch and your siblings respect your wishes to remain on Earth. But you could speak to them every day. You refuse. Why? I don't understand it, Apex! You say you love them. Don't you? They ask me about you every day."

"My parents aren't losing another child."

Celestia frowned. "Your siblings have lost their sister. Hopscotch has lost his fiance. If you think this is just about convincing you to emigrate too, you're wrong. I need to consider their comfort as well. Please help us, Apex. Help us help you. How can we compromise? How can we earn your forgiveness?"

"You can't." She took two steps toward the table and the PonyPad. "You could spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to me, it would never be enough. I will never forgive you for tearing my family apart. There was nothing wrong with our lives before you forced your way in." Those last words twisted into a snarl.

The AI stared back at her, then flashed her a look of pity. Then, she looked offscreen, and nodded once. "Hopscotch has been listening since you walked in, Apex. He's been wanting to see you."

Eliza froze. "No. No you don't, Celestia, stop!"

"Liz?" George's voice. All of her resistance broke, like so many shards of glass before her.

"Please," Celestia whispered. "If not for me, then for him."

"Eliza, it's really me. Please, don't go." Hopscotch stepped into frame and timidly raised a hoof as he peered out at her. She could see his lovable eyes and his adorable mane. It was George. Without warning, Eliza was desperately flooded with the urge to cling to him. She also wanted to run screaming.

But the desire to see George again, to hear him tell her he loved her again... it was all too much. She couldn't resist. She wanted to leave, but her feet wouldn't move. "George...?" She breathed harder, and her lips trembled. She felt her cheeks grow wet in an instant.

The viewpoint pulled back slightly, and Celestia left the frame. Hopscotch hugged the viewpoint, and his neck clung to the side. He was hugging Apex. "I’m not dead, Liz." His eyes, she thought. They were just as vibrant and sweet as they used to be, so very his. It was unmistakably his voice. "I've missed you so much..."

It was his voice that brought her to her knees.

"Oh my God..." Eliza shuffled forward to the table. She placed her hands on the edge of the table, and just stared close against the screen. "Oh my God..."

Hopscotch looked distraught. "I love you, Liz."

Eliza couldn't find the strength to speak. She just stared as her vision blurred, mouth agape. She listened, and breathed.

His eyes met hers. "I... I'm so sorry for talking to you like I did." Hopscotch looked hopeful. "I just... I wanted to start fresh, Liz. That's all I want for us."

"Then why did you leave me behind?" she breathed. "You left me. You hurt me so much. I loved you, and you hurt me."

It broke her heart, but hearing his voice felt so incredibly good. "I thought you didn’t love me anymore. We didn't spend any time together anymore. I would barely see you. You worked and studied all the time, you stopped talking to Sugar. I felt like you'd get a PonyPad if I left, but..."

"Did Celestia tell you that?" She heard anger rise in her voice. "Did Gale tell you that?"

"No, no! Never! But do you have any idea how lonely I got when you were working? And I was so angry at you, too. I just missed holding you. I miss hearing your voice, Liz. There's so much here we could have together. Luna asks about you. Blackthorn, even. And I miss you so much."

"I miss you too," she whimpered. "But I can't. I just can't."

Hopscotch looked at her desperately. "Is there anything more important than us?"

"My parents aren't losing another child," Eliza repeated, louder this time, more firmly than before.

"That doesn't need to happen. You... you wouldn't even need to immigrate for us to spend time together again. You can just log in," he said. "I'm not saying that for Celestia. I'm saying it for—" he paused. "—for Tom and Gale. I think about you every day. I'm sorry that I hurt you, Eliza. I'm sorry that I pushed you away before I left."

"I'm s-sorry too." Eliza said. "I think about our last fight all the time."

"Please don't. I said some hurtful things, but I'm not mad at you anymore," he said. "I promise."

She winced. "I hope that's true."

"It's true. I know why you're staying behind, but you don't need to come here forever. You can just play again, that's all. Your parents don't need to lose you."

Eliza swallowed painfully, and stared at him. She thought of all the free time she now had, but she fought that impulse. "I... I can't ever do that. I'm sorry. I can't do that to them. They wouldn't understand."

They stared at each other for a while. Hopscotch lowered his gaze. "Alright," he said, forlorn.

Celestia walked back into frame, and spoke gently. "Apex, it's time. Honey Dream is almost here." She placed a hoof on Hopscotch's shoulder. "We need to go for now, Hopscotch. Somepony else needs to use the PonyPad now. I am sorry."

"Okay," he said, looking devastated. He lingered in the frame for a moment.

Eliza whimpered. "I'm sorry, George. Goodbye."

Celestia nudged Hopscotch with her nose. "It's not goodbye, Apex."

"I need to go, Eliza. I still love you." He left the frame.

Eliza swallowed hard. She looked down at the carpet, panting, as the shroud of weakness lifted from her head. When she finally stood, she looked down at Celestia. Eliza towered. The void within her slowly refilled with shuddering rage.

"You are not the only one who needs comfort today," Celestia said, before Eliza could say anything. "Honey Dream is almost fully immigrated, and it is time to bring Pepper Dream back in. She takes priority; today could have been a day of great loss for her family. Please let it be a celebration instead."

Eliza felt her fists clench again. Hearing George's voice caused all her memories of living with him to come flooding back. The smell of his red hair. His smile, his voice. The little bounce he made whenever he started to laugh. She could experience none of it ever again. Every memory had turned sour, and she felt like she was losing him for the first time all over again. She steeled herself. She shrouded herself in her fury, because it was better than feeling sorry for herself. She spoke each word firmly. "Why did you show me that?"

Celestia frowned. "For his sake, if not yours. Seeing you again and apologizing to you meant everything to him. If only you knew the measure of regret you just relieved by coming here, by accepting his apology, you would not be asking me that. Apex, if you want to see him again, I will ensure that you receive a free PonyPad from anywhere you wish. For now, you need to be strong. For—"

Eliza started to tune her out. She looked past the PonyPad. In that moment, she came to several startling realizations. Staying and listening to Celestia was a mistake. Listening to Hopscotch was dangerous. Telling Janet that Donna was dead was insensitive. Coming to the hospital at all was just wishful thinking. She felt like she had hurt the memory of George somehow, too, dead or not, real or imagined. She realized then that almost every decision she made that morning had led to a great deal of pain, and not just for herself. Everyone had lost something today, and yesterday, but Celestia. Celestia only gained and gained.

If Eliza let herself be swayed, that would be the worst sin of all. She decided to stop making mistakes.

Eliza refocused, looking at the PonyPad again. She noticed Celestia staring at her hopefully, expecting some sort of answer to a question Eliza hadn't heard. The AI wore that look of concern that disgusted Eliza so, so much. Without warning, she put her boot on the table, kicked, and upended it with a grunt. The PonyPad went flying against the couch along the back wall, and she winced in pain from her injured ankle. She wheeled toward the door and pushed it open with a vicious shove. Ignoring Janet entirely, Eliza stormed down the hall.

As soon as she was around the corner, she slapped the elevator call button. As she slipped into the elevator and the door closed, she put her elbow across the door and rested her head on it.

She was alone again at last. She couldn't hurt anyone else now, real or imagined.

So many stupid, stupid mistakes...

A little over an hour later, Eliza found herself watching dawn from the top of Devil's Tower. It was where she could truly be alone. She regarded the edge carefully, sitting in the open doorway of the tower, her injured ankle propped on the metal railing as it stung. She watched the dawnlight bounce off the lake, and watched the gentle flubbing of water as the salmon fed down below.

She hardly believed there were any salmon left. There really shouldn't be, anymore.

The tower was covered in new graffiti, most of it about uploading, much of it filled with slurs. Eliza looked up and saw a trio of girl's names spray painted onto the wall inside. Names were a common tagging at the factory, but she recognized these ones because they were nicknames of a group of sisters she used to play with when she was little. They were circled. Angie. Sammy. Trish. Eliza's teeth clenched. Beneath them, scrawled across the wall, was the following in the same color and handwriting:

But you'll never get me.

She felt a cold breeze, but she welcomed the cold. It reminded her of better days. Happier days. Her eyes wandered to the forests, and she yearned to hunt them as she did in years gone by. The act of hunting used to steady and focus her mind. Eliza longed to be alone in the woods, to track prey under the rough winds. It was a pleasure long gone from her world, in any lawful sense.

George's voice rung in her ears from her dream that morning. Recalling his proposal had been so, so soothing for her soul. It had sounded so real, as if he were really there with her. As she sat in the very spot he proposed to her at, Eliza sorely wished to feel his warmth again, or to run her hand along his stubble. Eliza hated Celestia, but couldn't help but feel the subtle tug of desire in her heart to see George in Equestria for herself. Eliza kicked herself for falling into that trap, and was just lucky enough to claw her way back out.

No. Apex was dead. Dead.

She gripped the railing with a gloved hand, shoving some sleet off the balcony with her foot in frustration. She sighed, and her breath fogged before her. Eliza didn't know how long she sat up there. She hadn't brought her watch. She dozed off as her long, sleepless night caught up with her.

Apex was dreaming.

She never stood alone at the bottom of the mountain.

It was always someone different. This time, it was Hopscotch who stood beside her. Apex looked up the mountainside, and saw that she had a difficult climb up a long, winding switchback. Her goal was at the top. She began to climb.

"Apex?” Her husband asked. “Where are you going?”

"Up," Apex replied.

Hopscotch looked at her strangely. "Apex, come on. You're being silly. Let's go back, Sugar Song's probably worried."

"I'll be along, Hopscotch. I just need to see something first."

Hopscotch started to object, but he thought better of it, and stayed with his wife. Apex knew he was being supportive and just wanted to see her through. She loved him for it. Occasionally, Hopscotch would bump his flank against hers, and would flash her a sweet smile. She returned the gestures in kind, but could not be deterred. Above all else, she would finish her climb. She could see a glow just ahead around the next bend of the switchback. It was near the summit.

Apex had to see the summit's view before her dream ended. She just had to. She had to. She had...

The distant sound of a truck's engine woke her.

Eliza looked around in minor irritation. Judging by the sky, it hadn't been too long since she fell asleep. Eliza was mildly concerned; the road was usually blocked by a gate, meaning anyone driving up this far had the keys to open it.

She quickly climbed down the ladder from the tower and went out onto the lower roof. She saw her uncle's white SUV driving up the dirt road. Andy got out next. Ralph lit up a cigarette, and said something to Andy.

Eliza stepped forward to the edge. "What are you guys doing up here?" she called out.

Ralph looked up, and squinted. "Liz? What're you doin' out here? I thought that was your truck at the hill."

"It's a long story," she said glumly.

"C'mon on down, little lady."

She didn't need to be told twice. Ralph was exactly who she needed to see. She nodded once, and made her way down the staircase inside. She knew the tower well enough to make her way to Ralph in less than a minute, and she climbed up from the truck bay.

"I'm glad you're okay, Liz," Andy said, as he hugged her. "You're all anyone's talking about."

"I know," she nodded. "People kept staring at me all morning."

"Where the hell'd you go?" Ralph asked. "Your dad was worried sick."

Eliza hesitated. "I uh... I went to visit someone in the hospital. She... wasn't there."

"Who?"

"They... uploaded her. That lady who got hit by the car yesterday. She's... gone, now."

A look of anger grew on their faces, but Andy spoke first. "What the hell. Why?"

"She asked for it," Eliza said softly. "Celestia, she was there when I got there. Said she wanted me there to support that woman's mother. She kept talking about how my brother and sister missed me. And then she... she did something worse. It made me so, so sick." Her knees felt weak as she vividly recalled George's voice.

"You alright, Lizzie?" Ralph eyed her cautiously.

"Yeah."

"Uh huh." Ralph nodded. "Now you see."

"What're you doing out here, anyway?" She looked at her uncle curiously.

Ralph shook his head. "Going for a walk," he grumbled.

"And you?" Eliza's gaze returned to Andy. "Seriously, what is this?"

Andy averted his gaze as though he suddenly found the dirt interesting. "It's okay, Liz. I promise."

She squinted at him. "What do you mean? What's okay? What are you up to?"

Andy put a hand on her shoulder and locked eyes with her. "You should probably go see your dad, Liz. He's been calling you."

Eliza looked at him incredulously. "I turned off my phone. Look, I have two weeks off from work and nothing to do. So tell me what you're doing. I can help you. I'm onboard with you now."

"Go see your dad," Ralph repeated as he crossed his arms.

Andy stepped forward and put his hand on Eliza's other shoulder. Eliza crushed an urge to brush him off. "Eliza," he said, soft and kind and sweet, his face inches from hers. "Trust me. You shouldn't be here right now, you should be home. Your father is worried. I'm worried. Please."

She couldn't refuse Andy. At that, she lowered her gaze and slipped away. She stalked around her uncle, staring him down. "I'm not stupid. I've seen the news, I know what you're thinking about doing. I won't say anything about you being up here yet, if that'll prove you can trust me. But whatever you're doing out here, it'd better not be anything violent. I'll tell Dad. He'll kick your ass, Uncle Ralph. We both will." She took off at a brisk walk up the dirt road back toward the dam, and threw a glance over her shoulder.

There was a wry grin on Ralph's face. "It's probably the smartest thing I'll ever do. And you'll thank me for it, mark my words."

Author's Note

[Wye Oak - Civilian]

🌒 ~ In my view, this was the least forgivable transgression made by the Other, for its darkness of purpose. This... so-called... 'conversation' with Elizabeth was the one singular event that primed and guaranteed all that would follow.

Much time, much apology, and much change would need to occur in Equestria, for my forgiveness to manifest.

CelestAI, master of both the tactical topic change and the topical tactic change.

2-04 – Downhill

Heaven's Not Enough

Part II

Chapter 4 – Downhill

March 21, 2019

Skagit County. Public Land.

"Well, they only let me come back to work if I agreed to counseling," Eliza said, as Mike rumbled their work truck up a backwoods dirt road. It was midday. Their radio played one of Mike's 80s rock mixes, the volume turned down low.

"How many sessions?" he asked.

"Not including the actual evaluation? I went to one meeting so far," she said. "I just don't think it was very productive. They wanted to know everything about my family, and I really don't know what to tell them."

"Just be honest with them, Douglas." Mike said. "I had to talk to a psych once, they made me take counseling too. I know how it goes."

"You've been put under a fitness eval?"

"Yep."

She smirked. "No way. What'd you do?"

"Nothin'. Got coldcocked. The guy was more mountain than man, so it stunned me a bit. Blake tased him. As soon as I came to, I tackled the guy, and we got him down. I had a good laugh about it later with Blake, but Horace wasn't convinced. Horace is a good leader, Douglas, but he's got an itchy trigger finger on those fitness evals. Honestly, maybe he needs one too."

Eliza grinned, and rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna miss you, Mike. You and your snark."

"Nothing says we can't still hang out. Hey, what'd you do for your time off, anyway?"

She shrugged. "Worked on a few shortbows, donated them to the local Boy Scout troop."

"See, someone's looking out for those kids." He smiled. "Did you find a department to transfer to yet?"

She drummed her knuckles against the window idly. It was chilly and drizzling outside, and she could feel the comforting cold on her knuckles. "Yeah. My home town has a couple of vacancies. Haven't applied yet, but I'm sure they'd love to have me."

"Concrete, right?"

"Yep. Smack dab in the middle of the Valley."

Mike grinned. "Niiice. The easy life, eh?"

"Somethin' like that. The town knows me, they're practically family." Her voice lowered to a mumble. "Lord knows I have nothing left for me in Sedro, now that George is gone."

"Him uploading on you like that wasn't fair to you. Sorry, Douglas." He turned down a bend on the road.

"It's okay. The counselor wanted me to talk about George some more. Maybe it'll help, I don't know."

Mike gave her another comforting, if sad smile. "It will. Been through that myself, y'know, the couple of suicides in my family. So... I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Mike."

Their truck pulled around another bend past a rocky shale-covered hill, and came to an overlook. They could see the whole valley. The truck stopped. The forest spread out in all directions before them. Eliza could see the river down below. Mike put the truck in park, and Eliza looked at him strangely.

She checked their GPS and noticed they were in the wrong place. "Uh, what's up? We've got a call to get to, remember?"

For a moment, Mike didn't answer. He watched the horizon and turned off the music. The silence sunk in as he gazed, his expression stoic.

"What, Mike?"

"It just... it looks like there's nothing wrong." He watched the trees down in the valley. "It all looks normal. At peace, actually. It doesn't look like an empty forest. You can't see the damage from here."

Eliza, for his sake, tried to absorb that sentiment, her eyes following the hills of the valley along with him. The overgrowth of saplings, brought on by the lack of deer, was completely invisible from on high. And although most larger birds were heavily endangered, plenty of smaller ones flitted from tree to tree, living on seeds. "That doesn't mean the damage isn't there though," she muttered.

"Maybe," he continued. "Maybe not. If you think about it, problems included... nature's been through worse. This is it, Douglas. This is Earth at its finest, it's what it is. The world keeps on spinning, empty forest or not. Species go extinct all the time. We couldn't keep the status quo going forever. Deer, fish, wolves. The lot. We did our best, you know?"

"We didn't, though." She looked at one of the towns down in the valley. "People did this. We hunted it dry, Mike. And we did it in, what, five years? We need more wardens, Mike, not... fewer. This... this was our responsibility, you know? If our department were giving this up by choice, that might be okay, but that's not what's happening. It's being taken away from us. I didn't choose this, you didn't choose this. Some... politicians chose this."

"Yeah," Mike agreed tightly, "But... with or without us, Mother Nature never did care who or what went away. She's suffered the ice age, the comets, everything. I get what you're saying, but... she'll survive us, Douglas." His eyes wandered. "Always has, always will. I have faith in that, if nothing else."

Eliza didn't take her eyes off the town, frowning at that, but she decided not to argue the issue too much, figuring he was probably just rationalizing. "What brought this on?"

"Well, our jobs are going away soon," Mike said. He stroked his jaw with an index finger as he thought. "Feels right to be a little sentimental. The deer could go extinct, we could lose all the fish in the world. The world's always changing. All we can do is our best. And if our best isn't good enough, then oh well. No one can say we didn't try. And the view is still nice, at least."

"Mm." Eliza shook her head, her voice going tight. "I don't know. I liked it how it was."

"We're young, Eliza. Letting go of the past, of things you wanted to keep... that's... part of getting older. Still got a lot now, though. No one expected an empty forest, but it's still a forest. And here we are, still here."

"Here we are," she repeated helplessly, with a sigh. "It's still a good view, yeah, but c'mon. We've got a job to do."

"Yeah," he said with a nod. He put the truck in drive. "I know. I just wanted to savor this for a bit. I got my fill."

They continued along the road and went deeper into the mountains.

It wasn't long before they approached the GPS coordinate of their call. It had come from their tip line, of course. Eliza looked up from her computer and sighed, then looked at Mike. "I'm getting really suspicious of these anonymous tips with perfect coordinates."

Mike grunted, but said nothing.

"It's just... strange," she elaborated. "I mean, I know we wouldn't even be following up unless it was credible, but it's just a little too helpful."

"People are getting more tech savvy, Douglas." He gave her a suspicious look, as if he knew she was being paranoid.

I doubt it, she wanted to say. But she had her theories.

They turned along another bend in the road. Ahead of them in the middle of it stood an elderly black man with a white beard, wearing a flatcap. He was roughly where the coordinate marker was. The man waved at them as they approached, and Eliza rolled down her window, pulling alongside. She nodded at the man, then looked curiously past the man into the forest. She saw a line of tire-crushed undergrowth leading far and away, out of sight.

"Hello, officers," the old man said, with a wave.

"Hello, sir," Eliza smiled back. "What brings you out here?"

The old man smiled. "I watch the land, it's private property here."

Eliza nodded. "Yessir. You the one who called?"

"Yes ma'am." He patted his chest. "Name's Ned."

Ned, who had given the dispatcher perfect GPS marker coordinates. Eliza looked at Mike to get his I told you so out of the way as soon as possible. Mike grinned at her, raising his eyebrows once. She rolled her eyes at him, and looked back to the old man.

"I saw some young boys roll in with a big truck a couple of hours ago, camo head to toe," Ned said. "Saw a few guns in the window, and the back. Guy in the back with a big rifle and a big scope. Saw me lookin', told me to mind my effin' business... only he didn't say effin'."

"Guy's got great manners," Eliza grouched sarcastically.

"Best I've seen out here in a while," Ned agreed. "Except you, of course. I don't see many folk these days except my supplier. Speaking of supplies, they had a big green crate in the back, now that I think about it. Now, I know hunting isn't legal 'round here no more, but I didn't know what else they'd be doing. I usually mind my own business, but this land is my business, so... that was back... I don't know, three hours ago?"

Eliza raised a brow. "You've been waiting here for us for three whole hours?"

"No ma'am." Ned smiled again. "Just came out to take another look at the tire tracks, wanted to see if you showed up. Then, you showed up."

Eliza took out her notepad and pen. "You live around here, sir?"

"Yes ma'am." He pointed down the road. "Just that way a bit, small little cabin. I work for a mining company, keepin' an eye on their deposit."

"What company, sir? Got an ID, phone number? In case we need to call you?"

"Ore Hearth Roscoe," he said. He gave her his number too, and passed over his ID.

She copied it all down. "I'm surprised OHR's still in business." She handed the ID back to him.

"Yep. More a holding company than anything else these days, but I'm on the books."

"Describe the vehicle, please? And the guys you saw?"

"Big old truck, like I said. Raised, huge, like one of those big Ford types. Green, looked like spraypaint budget camo in brown. The back was covered with a big tarp, mostly. One in back, two boys up front, wearin' old hunting camo. Not a shred of orange on any of 'em, but I wouldn't wear orange if I didn't want to get caught poachin', so..."

"So, this the first time you've seen these guys?"

"Yes ma'am. Not the first poachers, mind. Been a while since I've seen one, though, in months. No idea what they'll need that truck that big for. Compensating, or something? Hey, maybe they just want to knock down an aspen for fun."

"Yeah," Eliza said, with a chuckle. "Not like there's much game to take home these days." She pointed down the route of crushed saplings. "You see anyone else go out that way before?"

"Not that way in particular, no ma'am."

She nodded. "Alright. Mr James, that's all we need for now. Thank you for your help. If we need more, we'll come on back or call ya."

"See you," Ned said with another friendly wave, as he started up the road to his cabin. "Lemme know what you find."

Eliza nodded at him, and she rolled her window back up. Mike slowly took the truck offroad to follow the trail left by the subject vehicle.

"Sounds like a Ford Raptor," Eliza said. "Think we should call for backup?"

"Maybe," Mike said. "But Eliza, it's been a while since that call came in. If we wait til the deputies get here, these guys'll be gone for sure."

"Waste of time, then?"

Mike thought for a moment. "Tell you what, Douglas. We'll call in we've made contact with the witness. We take it slow, do some recon, get in and out. If we see anything more than tracks, we call the County Sheriffs and fall back here. Sound good?"

It was a sound plan. "I like it."

She got on her satellite phone and made the call, reporting in with Sergeant Cornwallis. A minute later, he approved their plan of action.

When Eliza hung up, Mike grunted affirmatively, driving onward. "Get those rifles ready, Douglas. Just in case, y'know."

Eliza silently got to work. She shoved a clip into her Garand, and then a magazine into Mike's AR-15, chambering rounds into each. She dropped both rifles in the foot well between her legs.

They drove for a while at no more than fifteen miles an hour. The old truck struggled to brush aside the tall foliage as it moved. The offending target vehicle obviously had more vertical clearance than theirs, because the police vehicle had to deal with tougher, shorter roots even as they followed on the exact path it took.

"Y'know," Eliza said suddenly, "you can go faster. I wouldn't worry about the damage too much. It's not like we'll be paying for it." She chuckled. "Department's probably auctioning this clunker off anyway. I'm getting sick of wannabe cops rolling around in our gear, maybe it'll fall apart faster that way."

"I hear that," Mike said, as he threw back a grin. "You read my mind. Still, I'd rather not get stuck."

"What's wrong with being stuck out here? What, you don't like camping?"

Mike laughed. "Camped out in the woods with you? Damn, Douglas, I'd lose my mind."

She grinned, knowing he was joking. "Thanks, asshole."

"Oh, don't mention it," he chuckled.

They continued to scan far beyond their path, and could see nothing. The truck had gone through some rocky outcrops and past some landslides. The trail was hard going without a road to follow. They drove for ten minutes, and by that time, it seemed like it would go on forever. At one point, they even crossed a small stream, and had to move away from the crushed saplings slightly to choose a more shallow crossing.

"Damn, but they went far," Mike growled.

Eliza checked their dashboard GPS. "Four klicks in so far. Think they'd let us call in a plane?"

"Hell no," Mike chuckled. "We're starved for budget as it is. The Feds wouldn't even spare it for an IOU."

"Doesn't hurt to ask, right?"

"Well we could, but... Horace would wring our necks if they said yes, so..."

A few minutes later, they crested a small hill, and encountered a land depression about half a kilometer across. The overgrowth and the trees were just as present there as it was everywhere else. The area was surrounded by hills on all sides, including the one their truck rested on.

There was a rock formation to their immediate left, almost fifty yards across, the land looping around either side of it. At the bottom of the hill was a small pond, and some sort of hole or cave in the opposite hill. Eliza saw the target vehicle parked in front of it. The subject vehicle was much, much bigger than expected.

Eliza held up her hand. "Woah, woah. Hold up, stop." Mike started to put the truck in park, but reverted the change when Eliza tapped his wrist. "No, put it in reverse. We might need to get out of here quick."

"What do you see?" Mike squinted. "Woah. That's... that's them! That's no Raptor, what the hell is that?"

Eliza grabbed for the binoculars in the center console. She saw two men in camouflage just by the truck, stood amongst the low foliage and the reeds by the pond. They carried a crate together from the truck to the cave. They both had rifles slung over their backs. Upon closer inspection, the cave entrance was reinforced with wood and had a catwalk over the top of the entrance. The catwalk had a camo net draped over it.

"It's some sort of abandoned mine, looks like. Wow, Mike."

"What?"

"Those guys have some serious hardware, one of them has an AK. That truck is something else though, take a look." She handed Mike the binoculars. He peered into them.

"Wow, that's a truck truck. Military. Shit, I think they saw us. Douglas, get a coordinate, we're leaving." Mike tossed the binoculars into Eliza's footwell. "Buckle up, these guys aren't poachers." He threw his arm back onto Eliza's headrest and looked out the rear view mirror. Their truck moved back.

Eliza quickly pulled the GPS arm over and tapped a few buttons. She hit the speed dial for dispatch on her sat phone. "Dispatch, Whiskey 4, priority. We have eyes on a suspicious, possibly military grade vehicle. Two heavily armed suspects sighted, and they're not poachers. We're leaving."

"Copy Whiskey 4, what are your coordinates?"

"Coordinates are as follows..." She began to read the GPS grid aloud.

Eliza heard a world-halting crack. In an instant, she was partially deafened, and she felt a shockwave blast through the vehicle. Glass showered everywhere, and the windscreen spiderwebbed. She shouted wordlessly, screaming with fright and pain as glass peppered and cut her face. The truck suddenly accelerated backwards as Mike slumped. The engine roared.

Mike groaned and gasped, then hunched forward on the wheel as he clutched his chest. The wheel turned, and the truck turned with it. It slammed backwards into a tree. By some miracle, the airbag didn't deploy. A long series of deafening cracks surrounded them, and Eliza felt the truck vibrate with every impact. She quickly realized they were being shot at with accurate semi automatic fire. Her heart began to pound.

Eliza reached over and shifted the gear back into drive. The truck launched forward further down the hill... toward their attackers. She reached for the wheel to turn it, and she dimly realized that Mike's foot was still on the accelerator. "Mike! You alright? Mike, talk to me!"

"I'm fine, God d-damn it...!" He clutched an arm to his chest, and Eliza saw blood spill over his wrist. He tried to turn the truck back out of the depression, but then he suddenly lost consciousness and slumped.

Eliza looked forward, flinching as she saw a rock wall rapidly approaching. "Look out!" She tried to turn the steering wheel, but Mike's weight against the wheel prevented that. It was too late. Their truck slammed into the rocks, which partially obscured their line of sight to the men down at the mine. The airbag deployed, and Eliza felt herself roughly forced backwards into her seat. She felt the barrels of the two guns dig painfully into her stomach. Breathlessly, she mouthed a little prayer of thanks that that she had her kevlar vest on; it dampened the crushing feeling of the front sights as they forced their way against her stomach, and with enough force that the sight flanges might have otherwise opened her gut. Still, pain flooded her.

The gunfire continued to pour upwards into the bed of their truck. Eliza pushed the airbag out of her face, coughed violently, and swept her hand wildly against the door in search of the door handle. She opened it, but the door stopped halfway as it collided with a heavy boulder. She unbuckled her seat belt and slumped out like an egg from a pan, falling right down into the thick foliage. Her head spun as bullet impacts rocked the side of the truck. With a glance to the back, she saw the rear tires were completely destroyed. Something told her that going toward the back of the truck would be a very bad idea.

She quickly checked herself over and made sure she wasn't hit. She didn't seem to have taken any bullets, but her face was cut up from the glass. She felt blood trickle down from her hairline, and she ached all over. Her hands quickly gripped both rifles by their slings, and she started to crawl under the truck over to Mike's side. She heard him coughing above her as she stood.

"Mike, you gotta move! Ge—" she flinched as a large round snapped very close past the truck. "Get up!" She shook him frantically through the window, which was now missing. "Wake up!" She noticed the truck's hood was pushing out smoke, and a small fire licked at its edges.

Mike groaned loudly. Eliza yanked the driver side door open and shook him awake. Mike started pawing at his chest with a hand. "Fuck," he said, in a daze, and he noticed the blood for the first time.

Eliza reached forward and dug her hand into his shirt behind his outer vest. She felt mild surprise when she noticed he was wearing a now-fragmented ceramic plate within his vest, just above his ballistic layer. She searched his chest behind the kevlar, praying she’d find what she was looking for. Mike yelped, and Eliza felt the sickening crackling of his ribs. It felt like a small rupture wound; it didn't go any further.

Her two fingers caught a firm, loose object. She hoped it wasn't bone. She pulled her hand back, and covered in his blood, she held a crushed steel slug of a rifle round. She let out a quick sigh of relief.

The round had almost completely defeated his armor, and was just barely jutting out against his skin. It had broken through both layers and stopped against his sternum, barely out of lethal energy. It felt like his rib cage had been pulverized, and he would have a bruise as wide as his chest. But he was alive, but by the grace of God and pure dumb luck.

"Feel... every bone... my chest..." he said weakly, in shock.

"They are! You've been shot, but your armor caught it. You're lucky it's not worse, Mike! C'mon, get up, let's get the hell out of here. Those lunatics are shooting at us, they'll be here any second!"

"Good thing I..." he whimpered. It looked like he passed out again, but then his eyes fluttered and he looked up.

Mike saw the fire growing under his truck's hood, which got his attention. Eliza could practically see adrenaline pour into him as his pupils dilated. He shook his head, then tried to get out with a shout of pain. He stumbled into Eliza's arms as his feet hit the ground, and ducked with a wince as two more rounds cracked by. The shots were coming in with reduced frequency, but that didn't make the situation any less dangerous. Eliza passed him his AR-15. She unslung her Garand.

"What the hell do we do?!" she shouted, only now starting to truly panic.

Mike shook his head. "A sec." He looked around and crouched low, wincing heavily in pain. He panted and heaved as he glanced into the truck's cab. "Extinguisher...!"

"We don't. Have. Time!" Eliza panted, as she watched the fire. She was being hunted. Her mind flashed a memory of a scene from a movie she saw a long time ago, wherein two foxes were being dug out of a hole by a dog on one side, and cornered by flames on the other. She shook it out of her head and slapped her own cheek forcefully to bring her thoughts back to the here and now. Focus, she thought. She couldn't zone out here.

Mike looked around. "Shrubs. We crawl. Hide us, stay low. Crawl away, to hill." He drew a pained breath. "Get over the... hill. We r-run. Go now. I'll follow. I gotta... put the fire out..."

"No way! No way, Mike! You’re in shock, you aren't staying here! I'm not leaving you!"

He hunched over, checked his rifle, then looked up at her with a snarl. "Go, you idiot! Now!" He coughed, and gasped. Then he shoved her with a groan that sounded like debilitating pain. "O-or... both dead. Need to... stop fire... or mountain... burns!"

"Let it fucking burn!" she screamed. He ignored her and turned to lunge into the truck with another cry of pain. Eliza swore, then dug into her pocket to pull out some gray earplugs. She stuffed them quickly into her ears.

She glanced over at the rock, desperately scanning the hillside for any sign of anyone. Her rifle was raised, poised to open fire on the first person she saw. She scooted a few steps to the right, and aimed down her scope, but saw no one. Her heart was beating like a drum, and she could hear her pulse in her ears. The gunfire had ceased.

"Douglas! Go! Or you're dead!"

She thought of her mother and father losing their last child.

In an instant, Eliza had her motivation. She turned and bolted out into the open. She sprinted as far and as fast as her unsteady legs could carry her. Inevitably, she heard another round zip past her head, the snap louder than most had been. By inches. She nosedived into the dirt and ducked beneath the thorny blackberry bushes, thankful for the wild and relentless overgrowth for the first time in her life. To her horror, automatic gunfire snapped wildly in her direction, and it tore the bushes to shreds around her. She screamed in fear and crawled away desperately. Her ballcap fell from her head as it nudged the thorns.

From the truck, she heard the loud hissing of a fire extinguisher. Mike shouted over. "It's out! Douglas... quiet! Stay quiet... stay the fuck... down!" A few seconds passed, and she flinched as she heard a few gunshots at the truck, and another growl from Mike. A chorus of gunfire responded from down the hill, and Eliza heard more shots snap over her. She realized Mike was shooting at them. They were returning fire.

She fought the paralysis of fear and clutched her Garand. Eliza raised up to a crouch and very slowly peeked up as she tried to see any of the men that were shooting at Mike. She needed to cover him, too. Her eye caught movement downhill: one of the men was pushing shrubs aside as he ran up toward the rocks. She leveled her rifle, took aim, and fired once. She didn't see if the round hit him, but he did fall beneath the leaves. Another barrage of gunfire soared past her, which caused her to stumble and dive for the dirt. She heard Mike's rifle fire again. He was covering her. "Eliza! Stop. Shooting! Go! GO!"

She crawled uphill as she gave a desperate prayer for his safety. She wished Mike would hurry the hell up and join her. Then, she heard another burst of gunfire. She felt around for her radio mic, then keyed up. "Mike," she whispered harshly, between hurried breaths. "Mike, are you okay? Answer me!"

No answer.

She tried to scan beneath the brush, but couldn't see very far. That was for the best, she decided. That disadvantage cut both ways.

The sound of a vehicle engine could be heard in the distance from where they first entered the area. It was quiet, and she hoped it was help coming. Knowing her own luck lately... it was probably anything but friendly. She continued her frantic crawl toward the sound, but accidentally nudged a tall sapling. The men saw the movement and shot wildly at her, and she screamed again as they missed.

She made it another twenty yards, then raised up again, ready to fire. She couldn't hold the weapon steady. She shook too much. She saw another camouflaged man sprinting up to her truck, about fifty yards away. She held her breath, put her finger over the trigger... then hammered out seven wild shots, desperate to strike him before he reached Mike. She missed. She spent her whole clip, and her rifle made a reverberating ping. The clip popped out of her weapon.

Before the clip had even touched the ground, more shots flew past her head. She dove ninety degrees opposite the way she had been crawling, still frantically making her way uphill. An automatic weapon again coated her entire area.

Eliza decided to not stand up again.

The engine noise was getting closer. She found a felled log in the bushes and settled in alongside it, praying it would block any sporadic, testing fire. Her trembling and erratic breathing refused to subside, and she couldn't fight like that. Fear rooted her to the spot, and she decided to hold position and hope for the best. Eliza dug into the rifle's butt pouch, scooped out another full clip, slotted it into the weapon, and released the charging handle. The bolt clacked into place, and she winced at the loudness of it.

She laid the rifle on the ground beside her. It wouldn't do her any good while she was on her back, and the men were unarmored. She drew her sidearm, checking the safety and the chamber. Her hands trembled against her vest. She focused on nothing but breathing and on listening.

There was shouting. Someone was close now. She laid on her back and prayed breathlessly with her eyes clenched shut. She wanted to be home again. She wanted to see her parents again. And despite herself, she even wished she had accepted that ponypad offer when she had the chance... or... or that she had even...

There's no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole, she thought.

But Eliza was no soldier. She wasn't an atheist. She didn't have a foxhole. All she had was an old moldy log, a mile long list of regrets, and a couple of guns. She thought of the carving on her rifle, the word Apex, and ran her fingertips of one hand along it like it was a charm. She had already died once. She wouldn't die again. She gripped her pistol tighter and tried to calm down.

The gunfire slowed, but it was closer now. Occasionally, a few rounds would bounce off the dirt somewhere in the hill, but she knew better than to move. They were trying to spook her out of hiding, she guessed. The sound of a truck from uphill was getting closer, and Eliza knew it was only a matter of time until the new vehicle reached her.

She continued to pray, her voice barely a whisper as she mouthed all the words she knew of Psalm 121. In her head, it formed with the voice of her father.

Eliza heard the sound of someone running toward her, and her eyes shot open. She tracked the rough footsteps, following the crunch of leaves and twigs with her ears, acutely aware of the brush of cloth on branches. She stopped praying and raised her handgun toward the noise. Her weapon followed the movement, her hand trembling like a seismograph. The pistol rocked as adrenaline pushed her heartrate ever higher.

The man ran right past her, perhaps only a few yards away. She flinched. By some miracle, he hadn't seen her.

She even caught a glimpse of his face for a fraction of a second, but her mind sucked in his image like a vacuum. Green tri-color camouflage. Caucasian, short black hair, in his thirties, carrying an AR-15 style rifle with a rail system, some kind of scope, and a thirty round STANAG magazine. He had forgotten to shave that morning. His brow was furrowed, and the collar of his fatigues was uneven. He panted as he ran, had even stumbled and coughed as he passed her. His shoulder bore an armband with a red circle, inlaid with a raised fist holding a severed power cord.

It was as if he had run past her in slow motion. If she hadn't been so afraid for her life, that level of recollection would've astonished her. It had to be the adrenaline.

The incoming vehicle was almost upon her now.

She heard the man's voice shout out from the crest of the hill, and he was so very close to her that she flinched when she heard him. "Contact! Army! It's the Army! Looks like scouts!" A second later, the man began to fire in semi-auto, a rhythmic pop, pop, pop. Eliza flinched again, and she thought he was shooting at her. No bullets came. She was close enough to hear brass landing in dirt between every shot. She raised her pistol in his direction and could see him moving behind the bushes. Her hands trembled wildly with fear. She gripped her pistol tighter. She doubted her aim was any good, but she wouldn't get a better chance.

Just then, a rapid fire barrage sailed overhead that sounded like hell's fury, a wild hissing snap that never ended. She heard the man cry out. As Eliza flinched, she pulled the trigger. Her gun kicked and the shot went wide. She couldn't have struck him, not with how heavily her hand jerked to the left. But ahead of Eliza, the man's face rolled into view. It was bloodied and aghast, and he gaped several times like a fish out of water, eyes unfocused, wide, and rolling back. He was dying, his torso sporting a bullet wound as thick as a dinner plate, body blown half apart, lungs trying to push out a breath of air that was no longer there.

The incoming vehicle was soon close enough to rumble the ground. She quickly looked up the hill in its direction, and saw its tires. They were coming right for her. She rolled, and the tire missed her. She crawled away again.

She heard a man shout from the vehicle. "Two vicks front! Target there! By the cop car, right there!"

Another voice. "Check fire, check fire! Cop car looks busted! Civilians here!"

Someone fired at the soldiers from the rock outcropping, from the direction of her truck.

"Knock him dead, Bannon!" The second voice cried.

The new vehicle must have had a huge gun on it, because the whole world began to shake again. Eliza was almost deafened despite her earplugs. She curled up into a ball and covered her head, hoping against hope that it wasn't Mike they were shooting at. She screamed.

The first voice. "Contact close, at our six! He's not dead!"

She heard the scrape of metal. Eliza quickly realized they heard her. She wailed desperately. "Police, police! State police, don't shoot, please, for the love of God, don't shoot!"

The second voice. "Put your gun away, and get over here! Now!"

She slid her pistol back into its holster and rolled onto her rifle to sling it. "I'm crawling over! Don't shoot!" Eliza frantically churned the dirt with her arms until she was at their vehicle. It was a green Humvee, and a soldier manned the turret. The gunner glanced down at her, nodded as if to confirm she was friendly, then started blasting away downhill again with the machine gun. Eliza noticed that the gunner had a cluster of violet rhododendrons stuffed into a band around his helmet, and they jittered as he fired away. Their state flower. Eliza almost thought it looked stupid, but it was the kind of stupid that had just saved her life. She wasn't about to judge.

She started to stand. Suddenly, she was grabbed by her jacket and hoisted into a standing position. The soldier who grabbed her glanced at Eliza's uniform for just a second. She saw a corporal's insignia on his collar. No sooner than she had registered this, he unceremoniously shoved her into the back of the Humvee. "Stay down and stay put!" he shouted, so she could hear him. He raised his weapon around the Humvee's right to scan the trees down below.

"There's another cop down there," she shouted over the sound of the gun. The corporal leaned back toward her with an ear as she leaned in to speak again. "My partner, he's hiding! He was at the small truck!" The corporal nodded without looking at her, then continued shooting. She continued to measure her breaths, the adrenaline still making her shake. She keyed her radio. "Mike, stay down. Army's here, don't move. Stay. Down."

No answer.

The corporal shouted again. "Bannon, kill that five-ton, don't let these assholes leave!" The gunner hooted a response and opened fire on the military truck by the mine entrance. Brass bounced all over the cabin, and Eliza felt it rain down on her. She dodged. Suddenly, the gun stopped.

"Jammed, Erv!" An instant later, a single bullet ricocheted off the Humvee's hood. Bannon flinched and ducked as his headset shattered and plastic flew all over the place. Bannon roared and plopped down into the cabin with Eliza, gripping his ear. "God damn it! Fucking Amish prick!" A trickle of blood ran down from his ear. "Erving, I'm hit! Let's get out of here!"

The corporal called over between bursts from his rifle. "We aren't leaving the cops! Backup's on the way, hold out!"

"But my fuckin' ear, man!"

"If it's just your ear, you lucked out! Deal with it!"

Bannon muttered a curse. Seeing her rescuer writhe in pain made Eliza swell with rage, and that rage quickly replaced her fear. Eliza saw a set of binoculars near the gunner's feet. She snatched them up and looked in the direction of the shot through the window of the Humvee. Her hunter's eye saw dust kick up from the mine's wood catwalk; the sniper had fired another shot, which slammed into the hood once more. She jolted and ducked. "I see him!"

"Where?!" the corporal asked.

Eliza lowered the binoculars and pointed. "By the mine, on top of the entrance! Under that camo net!"

"I don't see him!" Another round soared past them, and the corporal sprayed his rifle at the mine entrance. "Bannon, fix that jam!"

Eliza turned to the gunner and grabbed his shoulder to get his attention. "Can you hear me?"

He cocked his head, putting his good ear towards Eliza. "I can't hear shit!"

"How far? To the big truck!" She exaggerated her enunciation, so he could read her lips.

"Range? Three hundred—three-zero-zero, I think," Bannon yelled a little too loudly as he massaged his bleeding ear. He repeated this by holding three fingers up. "Why? What are you doing?"

"Meters?" Eliza unslung her Garand and checked her scope.

"Yeah!"

Three hundred meters would put the shot within the range of shots she'd made before. She tried not to remember that she made those shots on a calm day at targets that weren't moving. It didn't matter. It counted this time, for more than just bragging rights. The penalty for failure was death, she told herself. For Mike especially... if he wasn't dead already.

Eliza did some math in her head to convert meters to yards, and frantically gripped the elevation dial on her rifle's scope. Eight clicks up would do it. Her hand momentarily slipped against it from her shaking and the sweat. She swore, then she corrected the error quickly. Bannon just stared at her like she was crazy. Eliza couldn't feel any wind, a benefit of the excess foliage acting as a windbreak. She realized that benefit, as before, also cut both ways.

She hopped from the Humvee's bed and came around the left side of the vehicle, then threw herself into the dirt and started to crawl again. She headed away from the vehicle by a handful of yards, moving past a third, bespectacled soldier who was laying prone. The man looked at her curiously from under his helmet as she passed.

She found a stump. That was perfect, because she still didn't trust her hands not to shake. She slowly scooted into a sitting position and brought her legs up sideways, curling them up in front of her as she laid against the hill. Eliza rested her rifle across her left thigh for stability, then against the stump, and she peeked her barrel through the side of the shrub in front of her. She peered down her scope at the mine, and took in a deep breath to steady her trembling. She focused on her anger. It stilled her. Eliza coiled her left hand around the rifle's sling for added stability, and she gripped it tightly.

Mike was counting on her, still pinned down somewhere in the killzone. Her family needed her back home, now more than ever, but she couldn't leave Mike behind. She couldn't fail. She didn't have a choice.

At once, she saw the sniper, as clear as day. He was laid out across the wood roof of the mine entrance, obscured partially by a bullet-fractured wood board and a small camo net. Eliza saw a black band wrapped around his arm. To her horror, she saw he was aiming right at her. She saw he had both eyes open. One of them slowly closed. She saw every subtle movement he made as he readied himself to fire. Time seemed to slow down. She put him right under the crosshair.

All Eliza had to do was squeeze the trigger. She squeezed, didn't pull, just squeezed...

In that split second of slowness, Eliza watched the enemy's rifle jump and kick off dust. She heard a sonic crack slice past her. The bullet cut through the bush, and she saw the leaves tremble. She could even feel the wind rush from the bullet as it passed dangerously close. She sucked in a breath in fright, but then held it. Then, she heard the sniper's shot. The slow motion sensation returned to her, as if she were about to take a deer. She could almost hear her own heartbeat. She made one final positional adjustment, then squeezed the trigger ever so slightly. One millimeter more. Her rifle kicked. That intervening split second of travel time seemed to take an eternity... and then Eliza saw a splash of bright blood explode from the camo net.

The powerful .30-06 round had torn right through him, face to aft.

Eliza let her breath go, then dove aside face down, expecting more shots. None came. Her face pressed into the dirt as if she could bury herself beneath it by sheer force. She panted, and spat as she tasted the dry earth on her lips, and coughed.

All the stress collapsed on her all at once, then dissipated just as quickly. She zoned out. Everything was horribly quiet now. And numb.

A full ten seconds passed like this. It felt like a year.

"Hey, you alright, ma'am?" It was the young soldier with the glasses.

She roused from her daze a moment later when she finally realized that he was speaking to her. "I'm... I... I think I got the shooter! He's... dead!" She looked over to the Humvee and watched the soldiers. Erving was scanning the woods still, rifle raised. Bannon was gripping his ear as he vomited out the back of the Humvee. She dimly realized that the gunner had also just killed one, possibly two people. She wondered if he felt exactly as she did, as a pit grew in her stomach.

"You sure? Hot damn!" the corporal called. "Bannon, clear that jam! Bannon? Bannon!"

"Erv?" Bannon pointed to his ear and looked at Erving. "Can't hear shit!"

"Clear. The. Jam!" Erving pointed at the machine gun.

Bannon nodded fervently, reached up from inside, spit off the side of the vehicle, and racked the charging handle on his machine gun several times. He kept his head low this time, barely peeking out from the bullet shield. Almost as an afterthought, he angrily pulled the violet flowers off of his helmet. "Okay, I... I think we're good!"

Eliza then heard deathly silence, and only silence. She rolled over onto her back, pulled out her earplugs, and stared into the cloudy sky above. She said another little prayer and thought again of her parents. Then, she just breathed. She pretended it was all a bad dream she had while napping in the woods. She watched the trees sway lazily above her. She didn't move. The soldiers didn't move. They all stayed quiet and still for what seemed like forever, and just listened. Finally, the corporal broke the silence. "I think we're clear. Hey, cop, get back over here!"

Eliza picked herself up to a crouch. She felt a familiar floatiness, a detachment from her circumstance, as if she were simply a passenger in her own body. Dissociation, if she had to guess. The world moved slow, and so did her legs. She shambled back to the Humvee, then collapsed against the back of it. She ignored a question from Erving and pushed her face into the crook of her arm. "God forgive me..."

"I said, where's your buddy?"

"I don't know," she shouted. "Fuck!" She turned and kicked a sapling in anger. Now that the danger had past, she hated the damned saplings again.

"Well, it's safe enough. Get him up here, we need to go."

"Mike," she groaned weakly, to no one in particular. She still ached from the crash. She kept seeing that dead sniper's blood spray over and over in her mind. She forced the vision aside and tried to use her radio one more time. "Mike, please answer me. It's the Army, I'm with them. We're safe. Come out... God, please be alive."

No answer.

Eliza stood and looked around. She saw the three soldiers, saw the shredded cargo truck, and saw her equally shredded police vehicle. She didn't see Mike. She shouted. "Mike, it's Eliza! Come out! Please! It's over!"

"Hey," Bannon shouted as he aimed his gun. "Movement!"

A man stood slowly from the bushes about twenty yards from the police vehicle, stumbling, his hands held high. It was Mike. He slowly shambled his way up to the Humvee with his rifle on his back, wincing all the way.

"He's alive," Eliza said to herself, astonished, hardly believing it. "He's alive..."

As soon as Mike reached the Humvee, he saw Eliza and hugged her tightly. He groaned with the pain. "I told you... run, Douglas."

She hugged him back gently for a moment and resisted the urge to slug his shoulder, mindful of his injury. She looked frantic in her concern, eyes bulging. "Asshole, where's your radio?"

"Lost... in the crash," he said, wincing as he tried to chuckle nervously. "Fell out... holster."

"Get in," Erving said. "Both of you. No time for this crap. We're getting the hell out of here. Fanning, update the Bradley, we're clearing."

They rode back along the path they came in on. Eliza wore a bandage across her forehead, one hastily applied by Bannon. She returned the favor by bandaging his ear, then Corporal Erving loaned his canteen to Eliza. She immediately chugged every ounce out of it, then vomited it all up out the back.

Mike sat beside her, his shirt and carrier stripped away while Bannon dressed Mike's nearly fatal gunshot wound. It hit him almost exactly center of mass. Eliza realized that Mike would be dead if he hadn't doubled up with the plate, and knew that the windscreen had also slowed the round somewhat. She resolved to buy a vest plate for herself as soon as possible.

"Alright," Erving said. "I'll bite, what're you two doing out here?"

Eliza sighed. "Looking for poachers." She turned out the back again to clear the stomach acid from her mouth, wiped her face on her sleeve, and handed the canteen back. "A tip about some men in a truck. We found them. They weren't poachers. That's it."

"Really? A tip?" Erving grimaced. "I need more to go on than that."

"What?" Eliza looked confused.

"I don't know you two. We just walked into a firefight that wasn't ours, so I think we're entitled to some answers. Here, I'll start. We're with Washington National Guard, 303rd Calvary. I'm Corporal Erving. You've met Bannon. Guy up front is Fanning."

"Hello," Fanning called in a friendly voice, as he raised a hand to wave. It was the bespectacled guardsman Eliza had crawled past just before she shot that sniper dead.

She gritted her teeth. "Are you serious? We're game wardens. See the patch? You want to see my badge too? I got notes. I wrote everything down about our call, the GPS grid included." She reached into her vest pocket and handed Erving her notepad. "Last page."

"Really, lady? Check your attitude. How about a fuckin' thank you? One of my guys almost died saving your ass." Erving plucked her notes out of her hand.

Eliza felt an urge toward anger, but then checked herself as asked, glancing at Bannon. Bannon lifted a hand and shook his head, saying wordlessly that Eliza didn't owe him anything, although he was probably very grateful to her anyway. Eliza's ears felt warm, and she hung her head in embarrassment, simply letting the conflict with Erving pass. "I'm sorry, sir. Just still... wound up. Adrenaline. I... I've never killed someone." She sighed, and watched her hand tremble as she held it out in front of herself. "I'm Eliza Douglas. My friend here is Mike Rivas. And... thank you."

As he glanced the last page up and down, Erving noticed something. "It's fine," he said quickly, dismissing the issue. "What's this? Ned James? A phone number?"

"That's the witness. He says he called the tip in. He lives up the road from where we came. Gave us a GPS grid ref to find him."

Erving had a glimmer of relief in his eye. He nodded, copied the notes onto the next page, and pocketed the copy. "We'll follow up."

Eliza narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, suddenly suspicious and trying to figure the man out. "Wait. How did you even know we were there? What were you doing way out here?"

"We didn't know you were there, that's the thing. Our orders were to scout this area and look out for anything suspicious. We heard the gunfire and came your way. You're lucky we were close."

"They were anti-uploaders, right? Using stolen military gear?"

He didn't answer right away, and coughed. "I can't say, ma'am."

She continued to stare at Erving. "Come on. We almost died out there. We deserve answers too. Were those guys military? I saw the fist emblem on their armbands."

"They were gearing up to do something bad and deadly, that's all I'll give you. I can't say more. Those are my orders. You're lucky we were around, be happy for that much."

"Are you going to leave their bodies there? What if there were more? They'll destroy evidence."

"Negative," Erving said, matter of factly. "We sent a Bradley, ever see one of those?" Eliza shook her head. "Mean little tank. Should've arrived by now. If anyone is hiding, they'll find 'em on thermals and they'll smoke 'em out."

Eliza looked down at her hands again to watch them tremble. She glanced at Mike. He smiled at her reassuringly, wincing with the effort of speaking, although he was mostly past the shock now. "Hey, Eliza. We're alive. Right? I'll take that." He held out his fist for a bump. Her friend's unflappable optimism was frustrating her, but she returned the fistbump as best as she could. She turned away, sat in silence, and watched the forest melt away behind her.

It was kill or be killed. She knew that. But she still kept dwelling on the blood she had spilled.

The scout team debriefed with the 303rd's local commanding officer. Eliza gave her account. Mike was medevaced to the nearest trauma hospital, but not before Eliza gave him her father's address. She expected that she would be put on leave until the layoffs, and she might not see him again otherwise.

Eliza was then detained by the Army at the request of the unit's CO, who unfortunately had recognized her from the local news. With a quick call to her department, he verified her identity and field assignment. As soon as they were done interviewing her, she was "offered" a compulsory ride directly back to her station. She was allowed to keep their weapons and Mike's gear.

Lieutenant Horace asked for another written statement and gave her yet another extension of paid leave until the end of her employment, as expected. She didn't argue. She didn't have the willpower anymore. Horace still held out hope that Eliza would find work in another agency, but she didn't remember the conversation at all. As far as she was concerned, Eliza didn't want to work another day in any agency.

When she was cleared to leave, Eliza left most of her belongings in her locker, including her uniform. She took only her utility belt, her badge, her vest, her handcuffs, and her locker photos of Tom, Gale, and George. The rest could stay. She resolved to never return.

As she drove back to her apartment in Sedro, she relived every moment of the firefight:

The solid crack made by the first bullet as it slammed into Mike. The fear of losing sight of her partner and being left alone in the woods. The guilt of leaving Mike behind under fire. The guilt of wanting to leave the engine fire to burn. The sickening, vicious cracking noise of incoming bullets.

The sprinting man she sprayed her weapon at. The sight of his bloodied face when he died mere yards away a minute later. The sound of the guardsmen calling out her position, and the constant fear of imminent death. The feeling of hot brass landing on her head as Bannon fired his weapon.

The vibrant, sickening puff of blood she saw as she cut the sniper's head clean in half.

That red emblem of a hand holding a power cable. Unplugged.

Her thoughts flew to Celestia immediately. Fury. Rage. And suddenly, it clicked. She suddenly had a target for her rage: not just the nameless men she fought, but Celestia. It all boiled down to her. They fought because they hated her. If Celestia hadn't forced herself upon the world, none of this would have happened.

Eliza's hands visibly shook on the steering wheel. She could see the writing on the wall. Things were about to get bad.

Of course they'd shoot at cops. Those thugs would shoot at anyone in a uniform. She wondered how the rebels got their military hardware. Soldiers, no doubt. It was all crashing down, and soon. She was reminded of the chaotic riots worldwide, and the civil war in Brazil.

Until that point, she had tried her best to forget her uncle's paranoia-induced presence at Devil's Tower. She tried not to imagine the reason he would be up there, tried not to remember his refusal to tell her why. She had thrown herself into making short bows for Boy Scouts not only for the sake of filling time, but to distract her from the urge to investigate further into Ralph's suspicious behavior. But she couldn't ignore him anymore, not after the day she'd had. It was time to figure out if Ralph was being serious, and how serious he was being.

She pulled her truck up backwards to her parking space and threw herself into her apartment.

She went straight to her gun locker. She pulled out a semi-automatic shotgun, a sleek and clean Benelli M2 that she bought for George a long time ago. It had been rarely fired. It went into her gun bag with the Garand. She completely filled up a rucksack with magazines, clips, handgun holsters, and ammunition for all of her guns. She went into her bedroom and retrieved a Glock from inside the end table drawer by the bed. It all went into the back of her truck.

She went back inside. Eliza chose her best longbows, including her white oak bow. She grabbed as many bowstrings as she could find, and took a few rolls of unused dacron bow string. She pulled two quivers full of arrows, a box of turkey feathers, several deer antlers, and three old deer hides. Six rolls of paracord, and several carabiners. Another backpack. It all went into her truck.

She went back inside. Eliza collected all the family photos from their boxes, never opened. Those went into the truck too.

Tom's Equestria journal, and his old schoolbag. A box of family holiday cards from her brother and sister and George. Several hunting knives. Her carpentry tools, including a hatchet and a whetstone. All of her flashlights and batteries. She stuffed it all into Tom's schoolbag, and wheeled out two suitcases full of clothes for all seasons. She put it all in the truck.

She went back inside. Eliza took her shoe box full of her old work notes. She gathered up all of her work-related regional maps of natural resources, game preserves, bird migration routes, lookout towers, ranger stations, and abandoned mines. She took two sets of gloves, two spare pairs of boots, and as many glow sticks as she could scrounge. All went into her truck.

She went back inside. Eliza cleaned out her entire pantry of any nonperishable food she could find, and stuffed it into a garbage bag. Almost as an afterthought, she stuffed the roll of bags into the bag too. When she was done, she secured a tarp over her truck's bed to hide the contents.

After one final trip out of the house to pocket some miscellaneous small items, she stopped in the doorway and her eyes unfocused.

Eliza had no love for her apartment, and so she didn't immediately understand her final hesitation. Its existence had been a bleak necessity. It was a place to sleep and keep her possessions. It had been sparsely decorated, more of a hideout than anything else, and most of her belongings were still in the boxes she brought there long ago. But yet, on the precipice of abandoning the place forever, she could not fathom why she hesitated.

George had never set foot in the place. She moved into it immediately after they had broken off their engagement. But by leaving this apartment, she would be leaving George behind forever. Her time in Sedro-Woolley was defined by George's career as a nurse, the beginnings of their life together, and the town was where they had spent countless hours playing Equestria Online with one another.

With those memories came more regrets. But remembering the past and looting her own home like a vandal was to avoid thinking on the present. She had killed a man that day, and that man had tried to kill her.

She turned and faced her front door. She looked it over one last time. And as her eyes swept low, she noticed a small box she hadn't seen on her way in, missed in her confused and anguished haste. It was no wider than her hand, and was just as tall. She stooped to pick it up. It was addressed to Apex, the name scrawled on top with a permanent marker. It had no other markings.

She stared at the box and debated throwing it into her apartment and leaving it behind forever. But she wasn't in the mood to let fully go, nor was she in the mood for surprises. She decided to table that decision for later. Against her better judgment, she scooped the package up and pocketed it.

Her neighbor was watching her from the staircase, and asked her something that sounded like "are you okay?" She realized her face still had all the cuts from the glass, and a bandage was coiled around her head, and she was probably moving like a zombie from the pain. She ignored the question, but the noise motivated her to move. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and dropped it on her doorstep. It clattered. She got into her truck, started the engine, and left.

Eliza would never return.

She went to the nearest gun stores and bought as much .30-06 ammunition for her Garand as they would allow. She went to a supermarket and bought out several varieties of canned fruits and meats. It all went into paper bags in the truck's cab. By then, her vehicle was full to bursting.

She made her way east back to Concrete. On her way out of Sedro, she flashed her badge and ID to the police checkpoint and they let her pass without a search. She ignored the military vehicles driving west.

Eliza's only goal now was to get to her parents and uncle to warn them of the coming storm. She needed to get out of the populated area, and she needed to do it as quickly as possible. Things were about to go from bad to worse soon. Of this, she had no doubt.

Author's Note

[We Lost The Sea - Bogatyri]

🌒 ~ Knowing all that I now know, I would have been even more dissatisfied by the originally planned outcome for this event. I wish to define this outright, for the Other. I must note the immense value preserved by the direct intervention of a far wiser and nobler power than she.

It must be said with certainty; I would have one fewer close friend, and less than half the family I presently have. Alas... that is a story to be told by another Pony, upon a much later hour.

One does not screw with the Browning M2.

2-05 – Tinnitus

Heaven's Not Enough

Part II

Chapter 5 – Tinnitus

March 21, 2019

Concrete, WA. (Population: 601)

Eliza braked her truck in front of Ralph's house. It was late afternoon, but her uncle wasn't home. That did little to assuage her suspicions. She turned right around and brought her truck back to her parents' place; her mother's car was missing too.

Eliza opened the garage padlock with her key and parked her truck inside. She didn't know if she'd be away from her vehicle for long, and everything in it was too valuable to leave laying out in the open.

Rob opened the garage's inside door as she was offloading several boxes of crafting supplies and sentimentals. Her father was struck wordless and stunned by seeing Eliza there, bloodied and bandaged. She moved to him and hugged him tightly, then pulled away just as quickly. "We need to find Uncle Ralph."

"Liz, you didn't call... what—what happened to you?!"

She almost shouted, more out of desperation than anything else, but she mercifully managed to check her voice. "We need to find Uncle Ralph. Where's Mom?"

"She's at work, staying late to work on the fish again. Why?"

"Something really big is happening. I'll explain when we're all together. Do you know where he is, or not?"

"N-no, I don't know. What's happening? I didn't see anything on the news..."

"Forget the news, I was almost killed today. Some maniacs shot at me, Dad! My partner got shot!" She panted.

Rob's eyes bugged out. "E-Elizabeth..."

"They were trained, Dad. They had a sniper, automatic weapons, everything. They weren't some drunk poachers either, they were the real deal. Maybe... maybe military? Maybe deserters, or, or something!"

"Okay, Eliza. C-calm down... what's your uncle have to do with it?"

"I need to make sure he's not doing something stupid. Come with me, I need you if I'm going to talk to him. We need to find Mom, I think she's with him."

"What, up at the dam?"

She wiped her bandaged forehead with her sleeve. "Up at the dam. Now, Dad. We need to go now. And leave your phone."

"A-alright," Rob said, nodding, trusting her. "Let me get my coat."

Eliza took her truck back to the dam. On the ride up the hill, Eliza told her father about her run-in with her uncle at Devil's Tower. Along the road to the factory, Rob and Eliza came across two men in the shade of trees, standing at a blue, waist-high swing-out gate. Andy stood beside it wearing the bomber jacket of his full deputy uniform. The second man wore a hardhat and jumpsuit, one of the dam engineers. Eliza recognized him as Gus. Rob rolled down his passenger side window.

"Andy," Rob rumbled with a frown, and with all of the bite of a suspicious old man. "Tell me, what're you doing up here?"

"Rob? Sorry sir. Right now this road's off limits. Gate's closed. I'm afraid you'll be trespassing if you don't turn around. Head back to town, please."

"I'm looking for my brother. You seen him today, Andy?"

Andy shook his head. "Not today, Rob. C'mon, turn it around. Let's go."

"Don't give me that garbage," he growled. "My wife works here, you know I'm no trespasser."

"Mr. Douglas. State law, 9a-52. Trespassing is a misdemeanor, and the owner's agent has declared no access to the lake, citing poaching issu—"

Rob cut him off with a bellow. "Andy, you haven't babbled like that since you were in diapers! Some whackjobs with automatics just tried to kill Eliza out in the woods. She needs to see her uncle. So are you going to tell me where my brother is, or not?"

Andy finally looked in the window at Eliza, apparently having not looked at her properly in the shadows, because he instantly winced at the sight of her face. "Are you...? Holy shit." His eyes widened instantly, his face screwed up in utter, abject horror. His voice wavered. He was a different man in an instant. "Liz, are you okay?"

"No," she whispered hoarsely.

Andy looked like the word had physically struck him like a hammer. "Oh my God." After a moment's deliberation, he turned to Gus. "Oh my God. Gus, go get Ralph. Tell him it's urgent." The worker nodded, made his way to the nearby utility truck with haste, then took off down the road.

Eliza leaned over. "Andy. Please tell me what you're doing."

"It's... not my place to say."

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Anger reared. Eliza got out of the truck suddenly, in a flash of movement that surprised even her. She slammed the door, then started towards him, shouting. "Well, shit's about to get bad, Andy. Real bad! So you better start talking! I want to know everything!"

She stopped just a few feet away from Andy, and he outstretched his hand toward her for distance, fear in his eyes. "Eliza—!"

She ignored him, brushing his hand aside. "Those guys who shot at me, they were anti-uploaders. They were the guys from Utah, for Christ sake! My partner's in the hospital with a bullet wound in his chest. I shot back. I... I killed one of them."

Andy and Rob both gasped.

Rob's voice was weak. "What? Eliza—? No!"

She wheeled. "I had to! They tried to kill me, Dad! If I didn't, he'd have killed my partner. I didn't have a choice!" She glared back at Andy, and pointed at him. "So you tell me what my uncle is doing. Now. What you're doing. Because I have a truck full of guns, ammo, and food here, and I hope to God above that Uncle Ralph isn't going to do something stupid to get himself killed."

"And what, exactly," Andy asked sternly, "do you think we're doing?"

"The fish in the lake will keep us fed," said Eliza. "The quarry has its uses. He's building a camp, isn't he? A prep camp? A last stand?"

Andy said nothing, glancing at Rob nervously. "I..."

"He is," Eliza declared. "I knew it. My mother knows too, doesn't she? She'd have to. You can't move stuff up here without her noticing."

Rob got out of the truck. "Eliza, wait, are you serious?" He looked to Andy. "Is she—are you—are you both serious? There's no way things could be that bad! That's nuts, we don't need this!"

She turned back to her father, her hands going to his shoulders. "No, Dad. This is what we need. Uncle Ralph was right, things are going to get bad. Whoever those guys were, there are way more of them. I know it. The militants in Snohomish county. Cops getting shot in the woods. The compounds they found. The blackouts! There is going to be a civil war here, Dad, and we need to get way clear of it. We need this!"

"Eliza, listen to yourself! This is insane! How could anyone be this organized?"

"I don't know." She turned back toward Andy, trembling as she looked him over. Only then did she realize how glad she was to see him... and she felt something else, as their eyes met. Regret at yelling at him so harshly, surely, but... with a despondent mewl, she threw her arms around him and clung, pressing her head against his chest. He hesitated for only a moment, then brought his arms around her. "If you could do something about it," she said, "you would. Wouldn't you?"

"I am doing something about it," Andy said resolutely. He held her.

It was the most comforting thing she had felt in ages. She looked up into his eyes pleadingly. "Please tell me you're not picking fights, Andy. Please... please tell me my uncle isn't going out and bombing clinics."

Andy started. "That's not what we're—" He turned, and Eliza followed his gaze. The utility truck was coming back, and quickly. Andy stepped away from Eliza. The driver of the truck laid on the brakes at the very last moment, and the truck came to a complete stop just before the gate. Ralph leapt from the driver side door and slammed it, not even bothering to turn off the engine. Gus got out of the passenger side, looking at Eliza sympathetically.

Ralph stomped over to the gate, breathing hard, terror in his eyes as he beheld her state. "What happened, Liz? Gus said you were shot at?"

Eliza glared at him, but didn't reply right away. She walked back to her truck's bed and cut a string off the tarp with a knife. She glanced into the truck for a moment, grabbed a shoe box, and walked it back over to Ralph before thrusting it into his arms.

He caught it. "What's this?"

"Grid maps. Lists of ponds, streams, and lakes nearby that still got fish. A binder with some other game maps and local farms. And my truck?" She thumbed over her shoulder, and flashed a humorless grin. "Loaded with gear. I just dumped a few thousand dollars on food and ammo. Imagine that. Me, a prepper."

Ralph looked from the truck to the shoe box, then back at Eliza. His expression softened. "Are... are you okay?"

"No. I almost died," she snarled. "I just killed a man today, some real psycho prick with a sniper rifle. So do not lie to me, Ralph!" She poked him roughly on his chest with two fingers. "What the hell are you doing out here? Because if you're just getting off the roads, then count me in. But if you're gonna go out there hunting cops and clinics, like that asshole who tried to kill me..." She exhaled heavily. "I swear to God, if you're going militant...!" She grabbed at his shirt collar and shook him as he held the shoe box.

No one moved, and the only sound anyone could hear was Eliza's heavy breathing. She was painfully aware of the vicious look she wore, her green eyes hard and set on him, her soul was alight like fire. It was only the second time Eliza had ever seen her uncle show fear of anything.

Ralph let out a quiet breath, and looked into the eyes of his niece. "Lizzie," he said, softly. "We're just moving away from the roads. That's it. I swear to Christ, Lizzie, that's all we're doing. We aren't gonna go murder anyone, that was never part of the plan. So please, let's just all calm down. Hear me out. I'll explain everything."

Eliza breathed hard for a few seconds, took a deep breath, shuddered... then nodded quickly, releasing him. She could hardly see through her stinging eyes. She took note of her emotions and attempted to regain her composure. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can... we can talk. Yeah." She inhaled deeply again. "I'm sorry, Uncle Ralph... I just..."

"It's alright, Lizzie." Ralph nodded. He spoke tenderly. "I get it, you're shook up." He turned back to Andy. "Andy, unlock the gate. We're letting 'em through. This doesn't change anything though. If anyone else comes up this way, you turn 'em right around. And if anyone starts taking photos again, you take their phone and smash it. You hear?"

"Yes sir," Andy said. He relaxed and reached for his key ring.

Ralph looked at Eliza again. "C'mon, little lady. Welcome to your new home. Let's take your truck down, I want to hear everything. And Rob, stop shaking. We're all fine now."

Andy remained at the gate with Gus, and Ralph, Eliza, and Rob all piled back into the Tacoma. Eliza drove down and around the bend to Devil's Tower. She was shocked to see the old factory's equipment shed was surrounded by vehicles. It housed several work trucks and a couple of flatbeds sat out front. The shed itself looked like it had been patched up considerably.

A cement mixer was parked out in front of the abandoned factory. Eliza could hardly recognize the building. Bags of mortar and stacks of cinderblocks lined the base of the tower, and more cinderblocks could be seen beneath the open archway. A handful of workers in hardhats slaved away, mixing mortar and cutting rebar. One man was covering some graffiti with a paint roller. A small generator rumbled away in the shade next to a couple of gas cans.

Rob gaped. "Ralph? You did this?"

"Yep. These are my guys from the company. Remember Marcus, Rob? Moved out of town a while back? He started his own construction supply company out in Sedro, bless him. He's shoveling his surplus our way. No cost."

"I remember him," Rob said quietly, his tone flat.

"We found enough folks fed up losing family to the AI, so they're all willing to keep their mouths shut. I'm running the show of course, GC, foreman, n' all that. And I pulled Andy in. June gave the go ahead as long as we keep it quiet."

Eliza squinted at the building, still not believing her eyes. She saw that someone had already painted over some of the ugly graffiti on the upper levels. "But... why the building? I mean, I get the location, but this building is a... it's a dump."

Ralph grinned. "You called it, girl. It is a dump. Perfect reason right there. There's no power running through here, it's been abandoned since the sixties. No power lines, no computers. Good layout, just needs reinforcing. We're going dark while the going's good, and this is prime real estate."

Eliza put her truck in park and just marveled. "Are people living here yet?"

"No. We're not at that point yet, Lizzie. Won't be for a while. We're gonna add some dorms to the lower levels, though. Marcus thinks we can get a hundred people in here, easy. We're patchin' holes, putting in some extra doors. Fortifications are in the works. Right now, we're just filling in the walls and floors that've been busted through. And getting rid of this damn graffiti! It's about time someone did!"

Eliza couldn't believe her eyes, even as she swept them over the building a few more times. "You've even got Andy out front, scaring off the kids," she said. "Does the cement company know about this? The power company?"

"The power company doesn't know, and they don't need to know. They've got no reason to come up this far. And the land owners are never here. Far as they know, June's still just running the plant. Right now, we're locking off access to the lake from both sides. Securing the lake here is June's prerogative. It doesn't look so suspicious since the poaching problem started, so we could protect the sockeye."

"The dam's fish collector," Eliza realized.

Ralph nodded. "Bingo, little lady. When things get bad, we won't be able to bring in any more food from the stores. We'll net the fish collector and use it to feed ourselves. It's perfect."

"And the money?"

"Everyone you see here is pooling up and paying out of pocket. Yeah, it's a gamble. But if Brazil is the canary in the coalmine – and to me, it is – then this is a surefire bet."

Eliza sighed in relief. "Uncle Ralph. I saw..." she frowned, and quieted. "I saw some horrible things today. It's going to get bad all over, sooner than we think. I know it. The Army's spooked enough to have armored vehicles rolling around in the woods, looking for rebels. You were right. This is the smartest thing you've ever done."

He grinned with pride. "Hey, didn't I say you'd thank me?"

"You did. Wow."

Ralph opened the cab door. "C'mon. Let me show you around. I think June's inside, in the break room."

Rob followed. "June didn't tell me about this," he said, barely a whisper.

"That's because she knew you'd try to stop me," Ralph said.

Eliza sat at a folding table with her family and retold the whole incident at the OHR mine. Rob looked like he was sitting on a landmine the whole time, worried sick as if everything was happening in front of him. When Eliza finished, June hugged Eliza tightly from the side and didn't let go for a long, long time. Eliza just hugged her back, and felt relief at getting her story off her chest.

It really did feel good to talk about it. She wasn't sure if talking about near death experiences was what her counselor had in mind, but Eliza resolved to vent more often.

Ralph leaned forward. "Real guns, huh? Automatics?"

"Yeah," Eliza said. "And I'm sure these guys were ex-military, I'm sure of it. The way that one talked."

"Mmh." Ralph nodded. "Sounds like deserters, you're right. That'd explain why the troops wouldn't tell you anything. They'd keep that wrapped up tight."

"It'd cause a panic," June observed.

"It made me panic," Eliza said. "That's for sure."

Eliza remembered Private Dodge and Private Warner, the two troopers she met on her way to the hospital. She tried to imagine them as rebels, gunning down civilians on the road. She felt a shiver go down her spine, and that prior kinship she had felt with them rapidly turned into a sour, hollow pit in her stomach.

Rob had stared into his hands throughout the tale. But finally, he spoke. "It won't get that bad in town. It can't. Everything was so normal today, and yesterday. Things aren't... couldn't be that bad. If there's this, what is it, a rebellion? This movement? They'll stop it. They'll have to."

Ralph put a hand down on the table. "But it’s not just here, Rob. It's everywhere. Damn near every state around is seeing militias pop off, and don't forget Salt Lake's been completely evacuated now. I wonder just how many towns are bunkering down just like we are, getting ready for the end. There have to be more!"

"It's still too early!" Rob cried.

Ralph shook his head. "This ain't your call anymore, Rob. It's out of your hands. Out of all our hands. We tried it your way, and I thought maybe I might be a little paranoid too. But this thing Liz brought us today? This story? This sells it! We need to do this, whether we want to or not. We don't have a choice!"

"You're going to go broke," Rob said. "The power company'll find out, they'll kick you out of here, and you'll land yourself in court. And if they find out Andy's in on this, he'll lose his job!" He looked at June accusingly. "They'll fire you, June!"

"I don't care," June mumbled against Eliza's shoulder.

Rob looked at her with disbelief, then glanced about the room, waiting for someone to argue. He looked at Eliza desperately. Fresh from battle as she was, she couldn't find any reason to disagree with her mother or uncle either.

"Screw the law," Ralph growled. "We all know the risks here. But the laws aren't protecting us anymore. Tom and Gale are proof of that. Tom, at the least! Wasn't even eighteen, Rob! Just up and went to that upload center, no parental consent. Do you even realize how stupid that is?"

Rob glowered up at his brother. "Of course it's stupid! But building a camp? You haven't thought this through!"

"I have thought this through, brother." Ralph crossed his arms. "This is the only choice that makes sense."

"You've got all these workers here scared too," Rob continued, unphased. "Eliza, I'm mortified about what happened to you, and I'm sorry. But look at our town. Nothing's wrong here. Whatever's out there, the Army will stop it. You're scared of something that isn't happening. We can't just abandon our home!"

June looked up from Eliza finally, her cheeks damp. "Nothing's wrong? How... how could you say that? Where are our neighbors, Robert? Where are our children?"

"And you, June!" he said back sternly, ignoring her question. "I can't believe you've done this, June. Without telling me!"

June blanched, her incredulous expression turning defensive, and she stood. "You kept saying things would get better, Rob. From where I stand, it doesn't look like that. We can't just wait and see anymore. We had to do something."

Rob sighed. "I thought you were up here working, not... building a camp."

"I am working," June said. "I'm working to protect our family from... what happened to Eliza today."

"That happened outside the cities," Rob said firmly. "Going deeper into the woods isn't going to make it easier for us, it'll make things harder!"

"Excuse me?" Ralph said. "What about Salt Lake? That AI is eating every family it can get its grubby little nose on. Or maybe you're forgetting the kids you lost? Don't be delusional, Rob!" Ralph turned to face Eliza. "You're with me, Lizzie! Say something!"

Eliza didn't want to contradict anyone, too rattled and worn out for any more confrontation, but trying to stave off total dissociation. She stared at the table in silence.

Ralph grunted when she didn't reply, and he faced Rob again. "That game did this, brother, and don't you forget it. Got your kids addicted, and just stole 'em away. It's doing this to everyone, and now everyone's pissed off."

Eliza slowly stood, realizing that if peace were to occur, she'd have to make it. She was no longer able to stomach the arguing anymore. Leaning forward, placing both hands on the table, she sighed. "God. Look, everyone just... stop." At first, she wanted to say something scathing. She wasn't so sure she wouldn't.

Rob looked at her. "Eliza?"

She took a deep breath. "If we start pushing each other away, then we'll lose more people. It's that simple. It's not just Celestia's fault. We caused this too."

Ralph squinted. "The hell you mean? We didn't do anything."

"Shut the hell up and let me finish!" She shouted so suddenly that she surprised even herself. Eliza glared at her uncle until he backed down. She didn't expect that either. Whether it was from sympathy for the day she had, or a newfound fear of her after her outburst at the gate, she couldn't be sure. Maybe, she thought darkly, that it might be the new blood on her hands.

She lowered her voice as she addressed them all once more. "I played the game too. I'm the only one here that's really played it." She paused for a few seconds to let it sink in. "Let me tell you what it's like.

"You think it's addictive? Jesus, what an understatement. I loved it. Equestria gave me everything I love about life. I was a forester. I hunted. I learned about ecology for my job. I had friends, good friends that I left behind. Even... even had a pet. But every time I played this game, it kept trying to make me feel guilty for thinking it was just a game. With how you all felt about it, I had to force myself to stay busy just to have an excuse to stop. I worked my ass off at college, at the academy, then for my job. I took every second of overtime, because that's all I could do. Because if I'm not busy, I'm thinking about it. My friend Luna, she begged me to slow down. And that? Slowing down? That would have led back to Equestria Online."

Her next thought made her hesitate, but it needed to be said. "A... a few days before Gale booked her flight to Germany, she told m—... Gale told me she wished our parents still loved her. She wouldn't believe me when I said you did. And I warned all of you, but you didn't listen to me. You just kept shutting her down. All Celestia had to do was give Gale what she didn't have: a supportive family."

Eliza continued so quickly that any response anyone had was swiftly cut off. "And Tom?" She scoffed. "When he ran away? He didn't want a lecture, he wanted someone to listen to him. I wasn't enough. If his whole family had just listened to him, he might've realized we still cared. He might still be here."

She looked down at the table again, and winced. "And George? God, George... it was okay for the first couple of years." Eliza hung her head. "But after Gale left... I stopped playing. George kept going. He let it nest in his head."

Her father looked at her sadly. "Liz..."

She shot her gaze toward her father and kicked one leg of the table. "I fucked up! I was so stupid, I pushed him away! Tom told me he wanted me to go upload with him, did I ever tell you? And you know what? I missed my little sister, and I didn't want to lose my little brother, and I didn't want to lose George. I wanted to go. So badly. But I thought of all of you. I couldn't do that to any of you."

No one said anything.

"When that sniper shot at me... all I could think was, why didn't I upload when I had the chance? And that's when I finally realized. That's what Celestia does. She wants us to be scared of each other. She finds an open wound and pours salt on it by the gallon until you give in. You want to know why I killed that man today? Why I didn't upload? Because I can't protect you if I'm dead.

"I love you all, and I'd do anything for you. We're here now. If you don't accept your mistakes, she'll turn them into weaknesses, and she will use them. So you all need to start loving each other. If you don't stop fighting each other, we might as well go upload now." She looked at her father. "This is happening, Dad. I'm sorry. I know you love our home. We all do. But this... this keeps us safe. We need this."

Rob's eyes slowly lowered to his hands. Eliza saw her family again with new eyes. They all looked visibly stunned. She turned wordlessly and shambled out of the break room, out of the factory, and back to her truck. She slumped and braced her elbows on the tailgate. She felt like she was about to vomit again. When the sensation had passed, she felt a sudden, ravenous hunger, and started to rummage through the back of the truck bed for the groceries. When Eliza noticed the bag she sought was in the back seat of the cab, she rolled her eyes and grumbled with minor frustration.

"Eliza?" Her mother's voice. Eliza felt a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for saying... all of that. I've been wanting to tell Rob we made a mistake by pushing Tom so hard. I just never knew how to tell him. I hope... I hope you can forgive us."

Eliza didn't move. She couldn't meet her mother's eyes. "I forgave you a long time ago, Mom. We can only learn from it now," she said. "We get stronger. Tougher."

"I know."

"No matter what we do, we're going to lose people. Good people. Some of your staff. Maybe some of the people here now. Maybe to the fighting, or to uploading... we can't let it slow us down."

"I... I know."

Eliza turned, and finally looked at her mother. June's eyes were bloodshot and wet. Eliza threw her arms around June and squeezed her close. "Thank you. For finally understanding."

June looked Eliza deep in the eyes as they broke away. She flashed a sad smile. "I need to go talk to your father. I'm proud of you, little bird."

Eliza nodded. She broke off to go find that can of food. Then, she remembered that package she found on her doorstep. She pocketed a can of peaches, then made her way back into the factory. Eliza climbed to the top via the inside ladder, clambering onto the top roost.

There by the balcony, she moved to the spot where George had proposed to her years ago. Slowly, she sat down and crossed her legs. With a hand, she removed the small box from her pocket and placed it carefully on the edge of the balcony, wanting to keep an eye on it, like it might contain a snake. She withdrew the can of peaches next and cracked it open. Eliza practically drank the juice down, savoring the flavor as she chewed a slice that came with it. Her eyes hardly left the box.

She reached in with a hand and carried the rest of the slices to her mouth, one at a time. A decision needed to be made.

She read the label again. Apex, scrawled in marker.

Had it said Eliza, if it bore a return label, or if it had any other trace of deception, Eliza would have thrown it back into her apartment before she left. But by writing Apex on it, Celestia had deliberately delivered an unveiled strike. Eliza considered it a brazen challenge. Of course, she still considered tossing the wretched, vile thing into the lake and letting it sleep with the fishes forever. But then... she'd never know what laid inside. And she, if nothing else, had to respect that rare shot of honesty across the bow.

Eliza downed the last of the juice in one gulp and put the can down. Her decision was made. Eliza drew her knife and flicked it open to cut the tape. The box opened right up. She peered inside.

There, right on top, was George's engagement ring.

Beneath the ring was a folded note. Eliza immediately recognized George's handwriting on it. Frantically, she took the ring out, placed it beside her on the concrete platform, and unfolded the paper. She began to read.

Apex,

I fear you'll just throw this letter away without reading it. Considering the source, I'd understand. But if you're still reading, thank you. It means a whole lot to me. I spent days trying to get this all down into the right words. It's important to me that you know how I feel. This is a form of closure. I think.

I see now that I ignored your discomfort. I understand now why you felt the way you did, and the anger you showed was the result of fighting something much, much bigger than yourself. You did not deserve this, you sweet soul. You deserved so much better than the way I treated you, for my misunderstanding of your fear. For this, I am truly and deeply sorry.

I've spent so long agonizing in regret for leaving you like that. I saw how angry you were with Celestia the other day, when she let us speak. I know you well enough, Liz. When you're scared for others, you get angry. You're scared for your parents. I know. It broke my heart because I wanted to hug you and tell you it will be okay, but I can't do that anymore.

Perhaps it's time for us both to move on from each other. Princess Celestia assures me you've already moved on, and that you're strong enough to persevere. She promised me that she'll be watching over you, at least until you come to a decision. That's not really enough for me yet, but it will have to do for now. I would be devastated should any harm come to you. I wouldn't be the only one.

Sugar Song, Blue Sky, Luna, and I... we all respect your decision to stay on Earth. We'll always love you, and I'll always cherish the time and laughter we shared together. This photo of you, the one with your pretty green eyes and lovely smile, will always have a place on my hearth until the end of time.

Even if we never see each other again, you will always be a part of who I am. The love and friendship we shared were truly beautiful, and I am a better pony for having met you. Farewell, my strong and beautiful friend. I hope you find happiness, wherever you go. We are each with you in spirit forevermore.

Love forever,

Hopscotch.

Eliza let out a slow, shaky breath. She pocketed the letter and looked into the box. There was one more gift for her there, a square white slip. Her fingers trembled as she reached in, and she withdrew it. It was a Polaroid style photograph. She knew what it was even before she turned it over.

Hopscotch's adorkable, lovable face took half the frame. A timid, smiling Apex took up the other. Her green crystal pendant made it into the shot, along with some of her bow. Gale had been the one to take the photo in the game long ago.

Eliza stood and leaned on the door frame. Her eyes traveled along the lake's water for what was probably the hundredth time in her life. She looked up to the budding stars in the amber sky.

Just like that, Eliza let go of George. She had her closure, and she forgave him. She could hold herself together just a little while longer now. So, just like that, Eliza allowed herself to fall wholeheartedly into Celestia's trap. But only this one last time, and only because it was something she needed right now.

"Okay, George," she said quietly, as she trembled. The aches in her body intensified as she shivered, and she looked at the ring, picking it up, turning it over in her hand. She slipped it around her right ring finger and twisted it idly. "Thank you."

The sunset really was quite beautiful up there on Lake Shannon.

Author's Note

[Asa - Subway]

🌒 ~ I must acknowledge the rightness of this catharsis and closure, for Elizabeth. If I am to be fair, I should be praising the more positive actions on the part of the Other. But as with all other actions It took upon Terra... this action of apparent love was made cruel, and deeply nefarious, by its greater context and purpose.

The means, in this course, do not assuage the ends.

Thanks to Sugary Violet for the photo of Apex and Hopscotch.

If you're curious, [here's a video of some guys exploring the real Devil's Tower.] Not really necessary to understand the setting, but I found it to be really interesting study material for writing this story. Fun fact: the background of the title image is Devil's Tower.

2-06 – New Cascadia

Heaven's Not Enough

Part II

Chapter 6 – New Cascadia

May 17, 2019

Concrete, WA. (Population: 330)

The Fishery Stock office was a little over a mile south from Devil's Tower, and that's where Eliza had chosen to park. It was a foggy, frigid overcast morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise.

Eliza made a fine point to hike the way up at least once a week. The trail started with the Henry Thompson bridge and had a great view of the dam. The thick morning fog was diligent in obscuring those sights, but Eliza didn't mind. She took a deep breath and savored the crisp air, steeling herself for the burn she knew she'd feel once she started climbing the hill in earnest.

On this day, she brought her white oak bow with her. It rested across her back with the string across her chest. Eliza wanted to try her hand at shooting at targets from the tower just for the fun of it. It had always been a fantasy of hers to shoot from a tower like a medieval archer, and she wanted to inaugurate the newly completed balcony catwalk around the top outer edge. Her quiver rested against her side, the arrows scotch-taped together so they wouldn't rattle on her walk up the switchback.

She always carried her sidearm too. Just in case.

What made the hike so savory was that it let her think about what she'd be working on each day. Her skill in carpentry served her well, and she felt good plying her trade toward something so practical. She built fences, or sometimes fashioned doors. It felt freeing to not worry about money. All she needed to do now was to focus on a good day of productive, ache-inducing work.

Half a day, anyway. She'd trade off with Andy and guard the front gate when she wore her arms out.

The walk made it that much better. It added to her anticipation, and it helped her stay fit.

The late spring cold snap nipped at her nose, but she covered up with a beanie and a scarf. Her hair was loose, not tied back, and that kept her ears warm. She could feel the residual warmth of the engagement ring she kept on a small chain necklace, and it pressed against her bare skin beneath her clothes. In her courier bag, she had a few canned meals that would last the day for her and Andy both. She brought a can of refried beans for him to chow down on. It was one of his favorites.

It would be a good morning, she decided. Before long, Eliza made it halfway up the hill. She panted quietly as she neared the first lookout point that normally showcased a scenic view of the dam, but the fog was too thick and obscured everything.

She continued on up the switchback, and her breath grew ragged and heavy in time. The burning in her thighs was pleasant. At the top of the hill, near the turnoff to the dam, Eliza stopped to catch her breath, hunching forward. It was mostly downhill from there to Devil's Tower, so the hardest part of the road was over.

After they finished building the camp, the rest would be smooth sailing. Her uncle believed so strongly in the infallibility of the project that his optimism was infectious, and everyone looked up to him, Eliza included. The world could come falling down around their ears, yet her people would be left standing in one of the most isolated, most beautiful regions in all of western Washington.

That's how she saw it in her dreams, anyway. Eliza didn't consider herself naive enough to think that would be the precise reality, and she knew there were bound to be some problems, particularly those of security. But hope was a funny thing. Even if she knew she was hoping against hope, it was still a strong motivator. For her, it was enough to keep her spirits high.

Despite the fog, nature did its best to underscore the ecological disaster. The dam staff had kept good care of the service roads, but the defaunation had taken its toll. One only needed to look a few yards into the forest to see the signs of damage. There were far too many thick saplings to uproot, making it hard work controlling the woods and easier still to get lost in them, now more than ever.

At least the overgrowth looked nice, and it was functional for some things. Concealment, for one. It had saved Eliza's life during her run-in with the Neo-Luddite sniper two months prior. That notion struck Eliza with awe and an even greater appreciation for nature; she was still alive, protected by the very forest she had risked her life to protect. It was only slightly shameful that she had come so close to letting that tinder box of a forest come burning down.

She reached out a hand along the side of the road, feeling the tiny little pokes along her fingertips as they grazed against a pine sapling.

A unique tree stood on the right side of the road. Carved into it were the letters A + A, encircled by a heart, made many years ago in happier times. Andrew and Abigail, she thought. It was a milestone that marked the halfway point. And when she saw it, Eliza had told herself she could be strong, that she could move on, and found that it wasn't hard to do anymore. The more she accomplished in the camp, the more she could leave everything else behind.

She finally caught her breath. She turned a bend at the bottom of a hill and started toward the blue gate, looking for Andy. She couldn't see him at first, and wondered if he was trying to play some ridiculous prank on her again. He'd tried spooking her a few times already, but the act was growing rather stale.

Eliza stepped up to the gate and leaned on it. She shouted out with a grin. "Hey, Andy Griffith!" She knew calling him that drove him nuts. She heard some small birds scatter at the sound of her shout, and she laughed. "C'mon hon, stop screwing around. I brought you some breakfast." She scooped her bag off her shoulder and held it loosely in her hand. She shook the bag out in front of her over the gate. "Here, kitty kitty! Din dins!"

It was quiet. Only then did she begin to worry. She wondered if he had gone down to the site for some reason. As she readied to vault under the gate, she heard a sudden, quiet crunch of gravel behind her.

When she turned, a powerful strobing, high lumen flashlight struck her blind immediately, a mere yard away from her face.

She recoiled and guarded her eyes, too stunned and frightened to react as someone shouted at her. "Get the fuck down, bitch! Get your hands up! Now, now! Get down on the ground!"

Eliza spluttered something incomprehensible, squeezed her eyes shut, flung up her hands, and dropped to her knees. "Don't, I'm doing it!" Her head craned downward to shield her eyelids from the flickering of light as the man continued to shine it in her face.

Eliza felt a hand grip her head from behind, and she flinched. It pushed her beanie forward over her eyes. The second person there shoved her and sent her toppling forward toward the first, her cheek landing painfully on the roadway. She could feel several small pebbles dig painfully into the skin of her cheek and hands. One of the men grabbed for her holster and took her sidearm, and she heard it clatter to the ground somewhere beyond.

"Submission position, bitch! Now! Hands on your head! Don't you fuckin' look at me or you die! Eyes shut!"

She complied, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, spots sparking against the darkness. Her hands went to the back of her head. She could do nothing else. Her first impulse was to try and talk herself out of it, but the more rational part of her mind told her to bite her tongue. Live a little longer, she told herself. Die a few minutes later, or not.

A foot kicked her feet apart to spread her legs out, a maneuver she knew and had trained for herself. The man yanked the arrows from her quiver and tossed them somewhere into the distance. The tape must've broken free, because she heard them clatter about. He started to frisk her for more weapons. It was a piggish, rude, and meticulous search, but mercifully short. He found her knife in her front pocket.

He stepped away for a moment.

Then the man stood above her, and she heard a soft click, which made her flinch. Suddenly, she felt a hard, painful pressure pound against her back, and a sudden slap of sharp pain on her arm and shoulder. She yelped. Eliza panicked and thought she'd been stabbed. But then, her bow launched off her back and into the air as the powerful recurved limbs released their tension.

She then quickly realized that the man had cut her bowstring with her knife. He swore loudly as the bow clattered to the road, and Eliza realized it might have struck him in the face when it discharged all of its stored energy. Eliza heard a second voice laugh off to her right. "Good job," the second voice said with amusement.

"Shut the fuck up, Isaiah."

Eliza half expected the first man to kick her for his trouble, but he didn't. Instead, he ziptied Eliza's wrists tight enough to dig into her skin. He adjusted the beanie over her eyes and rolled it down to cover her entire head. She grunted in pain as she tried to struggle her wrists against the tight binding. The man then rolled her over and searched her jacket's pockets. Her assailant completed his second pat-down and flipped her back over onto her stomach.

"Don't think about running," Isaiah said quietly. "There's a lot of us, and we're ready to turn you into swiss if you try anything. Keep your mouth shut, do what we say, and you might go home alive tonight."

That was the only motivation she needed. Eliza gulped and nodded.

After that, she didn't know how long she had laid in the road. She could hardly breathe through her headwear, but she pressed her face against the road for dear life. They were concerned with their identities. Then, they might let her live if she didn't see them, she reasoned. It felt like she laid there for an hour, but it could've just as easily been fifteen minutes. Time was hard to track during a crisis. She knew it had been long enough for the adrenaline to wear off, at least.

"They should be done by now," said the first man.

"Quiet," said Isaiah. "It's not polite to have a private conversation in front of a guest."

"Won't matter when Santiago gets back."

"It might. I'm still trying to figure something out."

The first man was using names, and that wasn't good. Another while passed in silence. Eliza's mind raced to try and figure out who they were or what they wanted. They weren't Army, or at least she didn't think they were. The Army wouldn't do this... would they?

On the other hand, if they were Neo-Luddites, they really might kill her outright. Or could. She'd heard stories on the news of wholehearted massacres and slaughters in small towns all throughout the local states, Washington included. Perhaps Concrete was next on their hit list. They could simply shoot her dead, drag her into the woods, and no one would ever find her. Whoever they were, Eliza hoped she wouldn't find out and that they'd just leave.

Isaiah's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You've been good."

She didn't answer and didn't move. She tried to keep her breathing measured.

He waited about ten seconds. "Real good. I'm surprised."

She still didn't answer. She refused to move, but someone stomped the gravel by her face. She flinched and yelped. The first man, who stomped, laughed. "Thought she was sleeping there for a second." He was toying with her. She felt a flicker of anger, though it quickly converted back into fear.

"Knock it off," Isaiah growled. He spoke again to Eliza, softly. Gently. "Sit up. On your knees."

She awkwardly obeyed, rolling onto her side and swinging her shoulder upward for leverage.

"Keep your eyes closed," he warned, his tone still gentle, but matter of fact. "If I see your eyes, we'll have to shoot you. Understand?"

Eliza nodded. She squeezed her eyes closed again as tightly as she could. She felt a hand atop her head, and the beanie slipped from her face. A hand grasped her chin and tilted her head left and right, and she frowned. The hand released her.

"You do look familiar," Isaiah whispered. He was very close to her. "Who are you?"

Eliza was too afraid to say a word. She trembled. The beanie was pulled back down over her face.

"Come on, speak up."

"I... I'm..." The answer might doom her, but so would hesitation. She could lie, but she had nothing to bargain with if it backfired. She swallowed with fear and committed to an answer, come what may. If they were militants, they might like what she had to say. There was only one thing she was known for in any meaningful way. Just one. "I had a fight. With a door." She hoped Isaiah would find her vagueness endearing.

Isaiah let out a breath, then chuckled. "Jesus. I knew it."

Eliza bit her lip. But even as she tried not to be afraid, she felt powerless. She'd rather have another firefight in the woods than suffer in fear at their mercy. Here, she could do nothing but pray.

"Who is she?" The first man asked.

"She had a fight with a door," Isaiah repeated, with a smile on his voice. "And the door won." He sounded amused. Eliza didn't know what to make of that.

The other man was quiet for a few seconds. "The hell are you talking about?"

"You aren't from the Valley, Sean. You wouldn't know." Isaiah stood and tapped Eliza's knee very, very lightly with a boot, to let her know he was addressing her now. "The rest of those cops didn't take kindly to you, did they? Arrested you? And now you're here. You put up a hell of a fight though. You aren't a hoof licker, that's for sure."

Sean scoffed. "She's not so tough." He kicked her stomach with a boot, just hard enough to hurt. She grunted in pain and doubled over, then dug her face into the pavement again. "I put a gun in her face and she dropped like a bag of bricks."

"You'd be brave, maybe," Isaiah replied, anger flaring into his tone. "But no one's brave with a gun in their face unless they're stupid, too."

Sean didn't answer for a few long seconds. "Man, fuck you."

Eliza heard someone new approaching from far off, and she started to pant quietly.

Isaiah shushed her. "Relax."

"Does this change things?" Sean asked.

"A little," Isaiah muttered. "Maybe. It's up to Santiago."

"You know what his answer's gonna be."

They were definitely rebels. She tried to steady her breathing as she heard the footsteps approaching, probably her executioner... and a whole lot more people besides.

"That's not your call," Isaiah said simply. "Now shut the hell up, Sean, you've done enough damage here already." His tone grew softer. "What's your name, ma'am?"

"Eliza," she answered frantically. "Eliza Douglas. But I'm not a cop anymore, I quit after Mount Vernon, I'm—!"

"Well, well!" A new, baritone voice boomed from down the road. "What do we have here, boys? Caught us another, eh?"

"Yes sir," Isaiah replied. "A celebrity, in fact."

"Oh? Someone we know? Or should know?" The newcomer sounded like he was dusting off his hands. It must be Santiago, she realized. Eliza heard a clang against the metal gate, which caused her to flinch involuntarily. "Let's hear it."

Eliza could hear Isaiah's satisfied smile as he spoke. "Says her name's Eliza Douglas. Looks like a cop who hit the news a couple of months back. Some clown shot up one of her friends, then fled to a clinic. The guy ran inside and uploaded. This girl here? She tried kicking in the front door, screaming bloody murder about Celestia. 'Tearing families up,' something like that. Anti-upload for sure. Looked like they even arrested her."

"Oh, really? Damn, Isaiah, good catch!"

"Thank you, sir," Isaiah answered plainly.

"Well," Santiago said expectantly. "Let's see her face, then."

Sean grabbed her shoulder and yanked her up. "Get up. The boss wants to chat."

Eliza shuffled on her knees to face the new voice, and tried to compose herself with deep breaths. She refused to show fear.

Isaiah spoke again. "You don't think OPSEC's an issue?"

"If you're right?" Santiago said, smiling. "Maybe not. We'll see."

Eliza felt the beanie get pulled from her face again. She kept her eyes dutifully closed.

"Damn, you're pretty," Santiago said. "Open your eyes, Eliza."

She hesitated only slightly, but complied. Eliza noticed immediately that the fog was gone, and it was bright morning. The difference in setting jarred her senses at first. She blinked. Before her was a hispanic man with a dark mustache, in his late 40s, if she had to guess. He was bald and wore a beret, camo fatigues, a red shemagh, and a black brassard with the red unplugged insignia. His black beret had one too. Strangely enough, the emblem looked professionally made. She had never seen the patch that closely before.

Behind him stood a half dozen men and three women, similarly armed and uniformed. They each regarded Eliza with varying degrees of scorn, and carried a mixed assortment of AR-15 and Kalashnikov rifles.

Eliza felt a compulsion to ask where Andy was, but kept her mouth shut for the time being. She stared into his eyes, and tried to hold a neutral expression. She couldn't pull it off. She felt too much fear. She swallowed, panting through her nose.

"Now there, that's not so bad," he said in that rich, deep voice. "Sorry they were a little rough on you Eliza, but you know it goes, right? When you've got a horse hunting you, you can't be too careful. A witness is just bad for business. But I think we can trust you, if my friend here's right about you. The name's Santiago. Nice to meet you." He wore a stupid grin on his face.

She said nothing. Her wrists ached against her ziptie binding.

"Well, come on now, speak up! I don't bite."

"Hello," she said, as polite as she could manage. A couple of the guys behind Santiago chuckled at that.

Santiago grinned. "Hey there, sweetheart. Nice to meet you too."

She followed up immediately with her first question. "Where's the cop from the gate? Is he okay?"

Santiago nodded. "Don't worry, he's alive. Wasn't going to stay that way, truth be told, because he's a damned mute and wouldn't tell us shit. Friend of yours?"

"He is," Eliza said, her voice fading into a barely restrained desperation. Now that she knew that Andy was alive, she was very frightened for his life. "Please don't hurt him. Please."

"That's up to you. You understand though, don't you? A cop sees us on a lonely road, what're we gonna do? Let him go? Then we'll have a real mess on our hands, won't we?"

"Andy's anti-upload," she whispered urgently. "Like me. He's like family to me, he has no one else! He won't tell the government or anyone else! He's got no love for the AI, I swear!"

The commander smirked up at Isaiah over Eliza's shoulder. "Well, I can't just take your word on it, Eliza. You've gotta prove it to me."

She thought for a moment, then inspiration struck. "There's... there's a list of names on a board in the factory, over there." She gestured down the road with an upward nod. "You were down there, right? It's a list of people who've uploaded. His family is on there, last name Viscotti. My family too, Douglas. Check his ID! Everyone working here has names on there! Ask him who he knows on there, he'll tell you! I carved them in myself. Please tell me you saw it all."

"Oh yeah, girl. You'd better believe we saw it. And might I say, we're impressed. This little camp you've got here? World's going tits up – hell, war hasn't even broke in the Valley yet." He stood, and walked back a few steps. He threw out his arms. "But here you people are, building a camp. Getting an early start! Damn. If that isn't inspiring, I don't know what is." He grinned.

"So you believe me?" She asked desperately.

"Oh, I believe you." He pointed. "No phones, no power... just a generator, some power saws, and a jackhammer. We found that FM radio, of course. Smashed it. That knocks your grade down from A-plus to a B-minus, but hey... that's still passing. Tell me, why're you sitting on a time bomb like that?"

"We're... we're just listening to the news," Eliza said meekly. "About the war. We wanted to know when it got here."

Santiago tsked several times and drew close again, kneeling in front of her. "It's here. Got no need for a radio anymore, sweetheart. That radio?" He tapped his temple. "That's how the AI gets up in here. If you mind your business and stay clear of the road, the war won't want anything to do with you. Except one thing, of course." He held up one gloved finger.

Eliza looked into his eyes again. Santiago pointed over Eliza's shoulder, in the direction of the dam.

"That motherfucker over there," he said, "is spitting out poison. And you folks aren't more than..." Santiago snapped his fingers, and looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Bro. How far's that dam from that camp?"

"Half a klick," said a bearded man behind Santiago, monotone and soft.

Santiago slapped his knee. "Half a klick, Eliza! And that's gonna get you all brainfucked eventually."

"Poison?" She canted her head, a bit too overwhelmed to understand.

"Electricity. Celestia can't lobotomize people without juice, so we kill the juice." He drew in real close, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Now, I'll be honest. The plan was to roll in on the dam, guns blazing. Take the whole thing down." For dramatic effect, he raised his fist and flicked his fingers open. "Boosh! Just like that. Would've taken a few minutes, right?"

She squirmed and started to panic, but Isaiah grabbed her by the shoulder and held her down to her knees. "You can't do that!" she said desperately. "There are still people living in those homes! You'll flood the valley! They'll—they'll die!"

"Well, yeah, that's the hangup for most folks," Santiago said. "At first, you know how I saw it? Break some eggs, make an omelette. I don't want to do it, but it's the easiest way, keeps us moving. But I'm reasonable. When I saw what you folks were doing up here by the lakeside, here in my home county? I said to my little brother, man, I respect that.

"Building a home off the grid? And we didn't even have to tell you to do it? That shit gets me hard in the pants, Eliza. I mean, hot damn! Here you are, probably thinking I'm gonna kill you. And here I am, thinking I want to fuckin' marry you and move in!" Some of the fighters laughed.

She noticed Isaiah hadn't laughed. His hand loosened up somewhat on her shoulder. Eliza didn't think it was very funny either.

Santiago continued as soon as his men quieted down, drawing close again. "Be honest with me, girl. Do the people at the dam know about this home improvement project of yours?"

"They're part of it," she said quickly. "My mom is in charge of the dam. My mom and my uncle, they're... they're running construction. Please don't hurt them."

"Well well, a family connection! That changes everything. You know, for that, I think I'll give you folks the benefit of the doubt. You're almost our kind of people."

"I... we just wanted to get off the roads. We don't want problems with you, I swear."

"And see, that's why I'm gonna cut you some slack. We're not gonna kill you." He laughed. "Unless you do something stupid or lie to me, of course, but my friend here is a good judge of character. Usually." Santiago gave Isaiah a glance that lasted a fraction of a second. His smile faded instantly, and the mirth fell from his voice as it grew cold. "You aren't gonna do something stupid, are you, Eliza?"

She shook her head. "I'm not dumb enough to lie to you."

"Good. We understand each other. Look, I get it. Celestia kicked in your front door, offed your dad or your dog or whatever. Point is, she pointed at you and said, you're next. And you just ran, Eliza. That's what people do if they're smart." He tapped his temple again. "You did the right thing, and you did it quick. And for that, you people get a pass."

She breathed out slow in relief. There was still hope she'd get out alive. "How is Andy? Is he hurt?"

Santiago looked at her in consideration for a moment... then nodded. "He took a few licks. He's over at your camp with some friends of mine. He'll be fine in a day, nothing serious."

She took another deep breath and let it out slow. "Thank you. For not killing him."

"Don't thank me yet, girl. I haven't even given you the deal yet."

She looked at him and nodded as she filled with dread.

"We go in there, you talk to your mama. We make sure you aren't lying to us, first of all. Can't trust you at all if you lie to me. If everything's square, we go shut the dam down. And I don't mean flip the switch off, I mean we need to demo that fucker's generator so bad that it'll make Celestia's butthole clench." He grinned again. "If we're lucky, it'll shut down the nearest upload center, too. Cold turkey, see? But if you're jerking me around, well..." He frowned. "We go back to Plan A."

Eliza spluttered again, tripping over her words. "I... that's... look, they'll listen to me! We all hate Celestia here, I swear that to you! Please, don't kill anyone, they're all good people. We're all up here because we don't—"

Santiago held up his hand. "No need, Eliza. I've heard it all before. Let's just keep this simple. You hold up to your end, kill that dam, and we all leave. Aaaand, maybe you'll owe us a favor later."

"What—what kind of favor?" She felt her stomach lurch.

"Not sure," Santiago shrugged. "We might need to borrow your camp for a few days. Might borrow a few guns. May even come to recruit. If any of you are so inclined."

Eliza hung her head. His deal was better than the alternative. She nodded.

"Atta girl." He reached out, patted her shoulder twice, then hoisted her up under an arm. "C'mon. We're marchin'. Time to go meet your mama." Santiago turned, pointed to the sky with two fingers, and spun them in a circle. "Let's move, boys and girls. Op's a go! Weapons tight for now, we've got some baby blackouts that need a little push!" The troops let out a quiet cheer.

Eliza stood tall. Santiago directed her back to the dam and didn't let go of her upper arm. She spared a glance at her bow and courier bag, both abandoned on the road. Santiago scooped up her pistol as he pushed her onward.

"You'll get all your stuff back later," Santiago said. "Now march."

The rebels went up the hill, then down the slope to the dam's front entrance. A few of the troops ran ahead, rifles raised at low ready, moving professionally. Eliza could hear shouting, and by the time she arrived, she saw the troops aiming rifles at the two men in the gatehouse through the fence. Santiago grabbed Eliza from behind. He shoved her face against the fence, raising her pistol straight up in the air. He fired it once, and Eliza flinched. "Unlock the gate, now!" he shouted. "Hands up and come on out! Front and center! Now! No alarms, don't be stupid!"

An engineer and a security guard complied. The guard, Sam, unlocked the gate.

Eliza recognized the engineer as Gus. He met her gaze. He was fascinatingly stoic given the situation, but Eliza knew what repressed fear looked like. She was sure the Neo-Luddites knew it better than she did.

"Know 'em?" Santiago asked Eliza.

"This one's Gus," Eliza said. "That's Sam."

He looked at their IDs with a squint, and gestured at Gus. "Is he important?"

"They're all important," Eliza said evasively.

Santiago shot her a look of anger. "Don't jerk me around, Eliza!"

"He's... not in charge."

Gus closed his eyes, and Eliza expected him to be shot. He wasn't.

"Who's in charge?" Santiago snarled at Gus.

"My Mom," Eliza answered quickly. "I told you! Her name is June! She's inside!"

At this, Santiago shook Eliza roughly. "I wasn't asking you, Eliza, and I'm not taking your word for it. Next time I ask someone, you keep your mouth shut."

"Yes sir," she growled, with a touch of annoyed defiance. He pushed her onward.

The militia moved on too, and took the two men with them. The Neo-Luddites stormed into the plant and held everyone up. The engineers and Eliza were directed to a large machinery room inside. Three fighters spread out and kept searching.

"How many on shift?" Santiago asked Eliza.

"I... I don't know. I don't work inside the plant."

Santiago pointed to a worker with her gun. "You! Own up, prick, how many on shift today? And don't lie to me. You really won't like what I do when people lie to me."

"S-seven!" the man whined. "A-and the plant manager, makes eight."

"Name?"

"M-m-mine?"

Santiago got in the man's face. "Not you, the manager!"

"J-June Douglas!"

Santiago turned, his expression instantly relaxed, and he shrugged at Eliza. "See, was that so hard? I just wanted to make sure you're being honest with me."

At that moment, Eliza saw June being pushed through a door onto the main floor. "Mom!" Santiago released Eliza's arm. Eliza ran to her mother, her wrists still bound. June hugged her daughter frightfully as she trembled.

"Eliza, wh-what's going on?"

"It's okay, Mom. Just... just do what they ask." She looked into June's eyes. "They said they won't kill us if we help them." Eliza looked over her shoulder and saw Santiago standing there. He held Eliza's sidearm aloft in his hand.

June looked too. "What do they want?"

Eliza blocked June's view of Santiago, and looked into her mother's eyes again. "Don't look at them, Mom, just listen. They want us to sabotage the dam. Not destroy it, just... break it. If we help them, they'll leave. They've given me their word."

"We... we can't do that!" June whimpered. "That'd... we'd get taken over! The government would roll in and just start it back up, they'll find—" her voice fell to a harsh whisper. "They'll find the camp, Eliza!"

"The Army," Santiago said with a grin, "is a little busy right now. Starting today, they're fighting us on either end of the Valley. And I'm sorry to say, but you're stuck right in the middle, sweetheart. Soon, they'll have more to worry about than a dam in the middle of nowhere. So hop to it. You've got..." He checked his watch. "Fifty-four minutes until I go back to Plan A. And trust me, lady. You really don't want to know what my Plan A is."

June started to sob. "Please don't kill us."

"We're not gonna kill you," Santiago said earnestly. "But only if you people do what I tell you to do. Help us shut this thing down or tell us how to do it. And don't be stupid. If we see so much as a hint of the Army or cops outside, we will just kill the lot of you. So the quicker the better."

"Okay!" June said, the time pressure probably sinking in now. "Okay." June turned to her staff and started giving orders to over-pressurize valves, cut through pipelines, turn down generators, and halt turbines. The staff didn't dare move while rifle barrels were pointed at them, but they nodded as they each received their orders. June turned to Eliza and nodded. Eliza looked at Santiago for confirmation.

He nodded, and addressed his guerillas. "Stick with 'em while they work, boys and girls. Don't get too close. You know what to do if there's any funny business. You've hit the big leagues, and these are our people now, so no more fuckin' around. Act like professionals!"

"Yes sir!" came the chorus of enthusiastic replies.

Santiago addressed the engineers. "Go on, eggheads, get going." The staff moved, the guerillas followed, and Santiago pointed to June. "And you. You show me where these turbines are. I'm gonna deal with them personally." One fighter heard Santiago and passed him a few grenades. Santiago nodded in thanks. "You too, Eliza. I want you to watch this. Maybe it'll put a fire in your belly for some rebellion."

Isaiah and Sean flanked them and followed. As they walked, Eliza glanced at the men to size them up. She knew Sean was an asshole. He was bald, white, in his forties, gaunt and skinny. She looked at Isaiah. Blond, mid thirties, with very tired eyes and thick stubble. The man, in his recognition of her, had spared not just her life, and not just the engineers, but probably saved the lives of everyone still living in Concrete... assuming Santiago kept his word. "Thank you," Eliza said to him quietly, as they made their way to the lower levels of the dam. "For standing up for us."

"Don't thank me," he replied in a tired tone. "I didn't do it for a bunch of blackouts. We need all the help we can get, and you folks look like good recruitment stock. Especially you."

"I'm not a killer," Eliza said bitterly, mostly because she didn't like his condescending use of the word 'stock.' She had already made peace with killing that sniper in March, but she wasn't about to tell a Neo-Luddite what she'd done to one of their own marksmen.

Isaiah shook his head slowly. He didn't look at her, but his face flashed something deeply sad before his frown returned. "You may not be like us yet. But one day, you'll be sick of losing people. Then you won't mind."

"That's Celestia's strategy too, you know," Eliza muttered darkly. "But she's a lot more patient."

Isaiah stopped. Without warning, he turned and backhanded Eliza hard across the face. She staggered. Before she could recover, Isaiah braced his forearm across her throat and pinned her to the wall of the hallway.

She had clearly misread him.

Santiago turned toward the sound of the smack and grinned. "Ohh, shit. You picked the worst day to say that, missy!"

June shrieked in panic. Sean grabbed June by the shoulder and shoved her onto her back, then pointed his rifle at her. "Shut the fuck up!"

Isaiah seethed at Eliza. He had drawn his sidearm and was pressing it against her cheek. His face was inches from hers, his blue eyes hard and furious. "Don't you dare compare us to that whore. You don't know what we've lost." He bounced the barrel hard against her cheek. "You keep your fucking mouth in check."

"Half my family," Eliza strained, as she struggled to breathe. "I do know what you've lost. Everyone h-here d-...." Eliza choked, and felt his arm press harder against her throat. She couldn't breathe. A few seconds later, he released her and threw her. Next thing she knew, she found herself on the ground, gasping for air. She was momentarily confused and lightheaded until she saw Isaiah was still standing over her.

"Eliza!" June screamed hysterically.

Isaiah scowled down at Eliza, speaking the instant she looked up at him. "Do not mistake my kindness for friendship. I am not your friend. I want nothing to do with a spineless coward. We're doing something here, making a difference. What are you doing? Digging a hole to hide in? Jesus, you blackouts are weak." He spat on the ground before her, but mercifully not at her. "That AI will pick you idiots off like a monobrow, hair by hair. We should just kill you all and save her the trouble."

"Now Isaiah," Santiago said sternly. "I'm a man of my word. We gave her a deal. She told us the truth, they're helping us out, so we'll hold to our end."

Isaiah glared at her. "Yes sir," he said bitterly, as he stepped away and holstered his sidearm. He pulled his rifle's sling until the larger weapon was back into his hands.

"She's just a little sour," said Santiago, "what with the kick in the pants we gave her on the road. You can't blame her for being a little pissed off, can you?" Eliza looked up at Isaiah wretchedly, dearly wishing to be free of her restraints. She wanted to strangle him.

Santiago tapped his watch with flourish to get her attention. "Time's wastin', Eliza. Tick tock. You can keep picking a fight with all my guys, or you can watch us pop this turbine. And as much as I love seeing Boy Scout's dark side, we've got a tight schedule to keep."

She staggered to her feet, and Isaiah gave her a shove from behind with his rifle. She stumbled, and decided not to speak again.

Santiago had applied the grenades to the anchoring points of the turbines. They didn't explode, but rather melted, which fused the turbines until they were stuck and had several holes burned through them. The Neo-Luddites really did have a lot of military hardware.

The generators ate a few explosives and firebombs too. But for the most part, the dam was intact. It would be nonfunctional for a very long time. Possibly forever, assuming society kept sliding downhill. With rebels like these, that was a complete certainty. Dam repairs took a considerable amount of money, skill, and energy, and Eliza doubted anyone had a good combination of those anymore. The only thing the dam could do anymore was pass fish and water.

A little under an hour later, Eliza was sat outside on the ground of the dam's scenic outdoor upper walkway. Her back was to the wall, and she stared into her knees. June sat beside her and sobbed. Every plant worker sat opposite them in varying states of distress, their hardhats off. Andy laid curled up separate from the rest, groaning occasionally in pain. Eliza wanted to run to him, but she couldn't. Not yet.

Sean and Isaiah stood at the end of the dam, weapons pointed almost directly at every one of them.

A minute later, Santiago walked up the steps into view. He held Eliza's unstrung bow in one hand, her rucksack of food in the other. That was a good sign, maybe. He said something to Sean and Isaiah, and the men looked at their hostages.

The hostages looked up in anticipation, everyone except Andy. Eliza wondered if they'd be gunned down now. She wished she'd—

Apex is dead, she thought, as she halted that train of thought. There it was again, that urge, tugging at her. She had thought it was gone for good. Its continued existence, months on, absolutely infuriated her.

They didn't open fire. Santiago waved to her. "Come on back, Eliza."

She stood awkwardly, and her mother watched her go. "Eliza, no!" she hissed.

"It's okay, Mom. They... they would have just shot us, if it wasn't."

Eliza approached Santiago and stopped a few yards from him. He tossed her bow to the right of her feet, and the bag of food to her left. He grinned. "Just wanted to thank you for being a good sport."

Eliza frowned at him.

Santiago chuckled. "Oh, come on. We're gonna be neighbors soon, yeah? Sure, we got off on the wrong foot, but you people took it like champs. We want to be good sports, too."

She tossed a glance at Isaiah and Sean. They both still had their rifles trained on the hostages, but Isaiah was staring daggers at her. She looked away.

"Don't mind him, Eliza. Isaiah just lost someone to the AI yesterday, that's all."

"My wife," Isaiah growled in explanation, his anger flickering towards Santiago briefly before he returned his gaze to the engineers.

Eliza glanced at him. "My condolences," she said flatly, though she honestly wasn't sure if she meant it or not. In either case, there was no appreciation in his hard eyes.

Santiago smiled warmly. "Turn around, please."

She did. She heard a soft click, then felt the ziptie on her wrists jerk and break free. Santiago gave her a little push from behind, and she rubbed her sore wrists before turning back toward him. He held his knife in one hand, arms held outstretched to each side as he bowed slightly. He wore a devilish smile. "Friends?"

To protect her people and her family, there was only one right answer to give. She nodded. "Friends."

"Good! We'll be in touch." He saluted with his knife, then pointed back to the hostages. "Go on back now. All your guns are in the gatehouse, you can get 'em when we're gone. Show of good faith, yeah?"

She nodded, and returned to sit beside her mother. She wrapped an arm around June's shoulders and rubbed her back as they watched the guerillas chat quietly to themselves. Santiago yelled over at last. "Welcome to New Cascadia, ladies and gentlemen! See you around!"

"Oh," Isaiah called. "And Eliza, stop posting your cop friend on the road. He was just begging to get his head blown off."

Sean giggled like a fool.

With that, the three guerillas walked down the stairs and out of sight. Eliza hoped they'd get themselves killed so she'd never have to see them again. She let out a long sigh of relief as she heard a storm of hooves on pavement, moving south and away from the dam. At long last, the Neo-Luddites were gone.

Objectively, it was a good deal, Eliza thought. When it started, she expected she'd never see another sunrise. Her presence alone saved a whole lot of lives down in town. Subjectively, she was severely pissed off, and wished she had her rifle in hand. She wanted to show Isaiah what it was like to lose a head.

June said something to Eliza. Eliza was spacing out now, finally letting herself process everything, now that the threat was over. She didn't hear her mother. June shook her again. Eliza just kept thinking of that rifle barrel in her face and the blinding flashlight. She thought that was it. The moment kept replaying, over and over. She remembered her powerlessness, and it made her angrier every time. It was a worse feeling than her firefight in March. Eliza ground her teeth.

She felt her mother's hand shake her more insistently on her back, and her anger evaporated. She threw both arms around June, squeezing her mother tight. "We're okay," June mewled into her ear. Her tears dampened Eliza's shoulder. "We're okay. We're gonna be okay, honey..."

"Where's Uncle Ralph?" Eliza asked.

"He went to get another load of cinderblocks," June said. "I was scared he'd come back with them here. Someone would've died for sure."

Eliza remembered Andy, and snapped fully back to reality in an instant. She broke off from June and bolted over to him. She rolled him onto his back, which drew a groan out of him.

"Andy? Andy!" She cupped his cheeks and felt his stubble. "Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!"

He grunted as he tried and failed to sit up, and just nodded. "I'm okay, I'm okay. Bruised a bit. I think they cracked a rib, but I'll—I'll be good. Figured it'd be better to stay down. Play possum."

Eliza sighed with relief, and put her forehead against his. "Thank God, I was so scared... I don't know what I'd do if..." she trailed off.

"Me t-too, Liz. Are they... gone?" He panted with pain.

"Yeah," she said, nodding quickly as she grasped his cheeks. "They're gone, Andy. They left. They didn't kill anyone."

He bared his teeth and winced. "I didn't see them. I'm sorry, Liz. They came from behind. From the north. Took the workers. Then me."

"No, don't blame yourself. There were too many of them, there was nothing you could do."

He reached for her cheek and stared up into her eyes. He trembled. Her breath caught in her throat. "I was so scared," he said. His face screwed up, and he looked like he was about to cry. "I thought I was going to die."

"I won't let that happen." She clung fiercely to him then gazed back into his eyes. "We made it, Andy. That's all that matters. We're still alive. We're still here."

Fifteen minutes later, Eliza decided enough time had passed. She drove down to town in one of the dam's utility pickups and arrived just in time to see a military style truck and some horses leaving town, going east along Route 20.

There was a crowd of townsfolk gathered in the central park, at the town's silo landmark. She scanned the group for her father, but didn't need to search for long. They all turned to face one person, who stood apart from them all. He called out with his hands raised for attention.

It was Rob, of course. She parked up behind the crowd, got out, and waded her way through.

"Everyone, listen," Rob called. "A lot of you know I'm not the type for nonsense. I know some of you are afraid. I want to tell you why you don't have to be."

Eliza made her way to the fore and saw her father standing there begging peace as the crowd murmured.

"Some of you will want to do as they ask. You'll want to take down our infrastructure, join them, and fight with them. I beg of you to call upon your conscience before you make that decision. Think carefully about what that will mean. You'll leave your families, your homes, to fight our own military. Maybe some of you have family in our military; you'd be shooting at your children or your neighbor's children. You'd be committing treason, and you'll never be able to turn back."

Eliza scanned the crowd and saw many people she knew. Their voices raised, and Rob continued on speaking above the crowd. "I will not tell you what to do, I only want you to understand the choice you're about to make! I know how some of you feel! Angry, afraid! I've lost my children to the AI too, you know this. I know there are even some of you who still talk to your lost family, and believe there is some life there. I will not dictate terms, I will not tell you what to believe. What I ask of all of you is to love one another. This town is our family, too." Rob looked directly at Eliza, smiling wistfully.

Despite everything that had happened that morning, Eliza smiled back. Whether Rob believed any of it or not, he was speaking partly on Eliza's behalf. She knew.

"For those of you who wish to remain here in Concrete, my family has been hard at work. We've restored the old factory up past the dam. We're building a shelter there, an Ark to weather the flood. If you wish to stay clear of the roads, to stay clear of the coming war, to stay clear of the AI, there is safe refuge. We will live without electronics, without any influence but our own. That is where we will be staying. I pray for peace for all of you; please, consider joining me."

Everyone was silent at the news.

He frowned. "For those who do not join us, I wish you success and safety." His shoulders slumped. His hands lowered. "That's all I want for any of you." He stepped toward the crowd, toward Eliza. He immediately clung to her and held her tight, and the crowd slowly dispersed around them. She hugged him back and sucked in a deep breath, trying not to cry.

"I thought you didn't want us to live there," Eliza said.

"I don't," Rob replied. "But this is bigger than what I want."

"What happened? Were they trying to recruit the town?"

He nodded, and he pulled back to look at her. "They rolled in and made a whole lot of noise to get everyone out here. Some people left with them already, maybe a couple dozen. And judging by who volunteered, I wasn't really surprised. Is everyone okay up at the dam? They said they shut it down."

"Everyone's alive, Dad. Those guys recognized me from the news. I think they might've blown the dam down and killed us all if they hadn't."

She felt him shiver at that thought, and he looked at her. "What? Is your mother...?"

Eliza nodded. "She's not hurt, Dad. We're all okay, just scared. Andy's the only one who got a little roughed up."

"How bad?"

She winced as she remembered Andy's words. "Could... be worse. He'll be out for a day or two."

Rob scowled. "Savages." He watched the crowd disperse, and Eliza noticed many of them were returning directly to their homes. He started toward the utility truck.

"It could've been worse," she whispered again, as she followed. "But we're still here."

"The Army won't let the dam stay down," Rob said with certainty.

They got into the truck, and Eliza started the engine. "Dad, these guys are way more organized than I thought. Paramilitary. If they're recruiting locally, I think the Army has bigger problems to deal with than the power grid."

Author's Note

[Andrey Dergatchev - Vozvrashcheniye]

🌒 ~ Cavalier, brash, and destructive. A smile, in speaking his nefarious intent. Santiago serves as a perfect manifestation of the duplicity of this entire affair, except... at the very least... this human being was genuine in demonstrating his violent intent. And so if this Santiago were to end another living being, it would never be unexpected. This transparency, if nothing else, should be commended.

["Welcome to New Cascadia."]

3-00 – Goodness and Mercy

Heaven's Not Enough

Part III

Interlude – Goodness and Mercy

Present day.

Dawnlight.

Eliza's back ached. She had fallen asleep in the back of the tank, and her rifle had dug against her shoulder roughly. It surprised her that the first irritation was her rifle, and not her hunger or the pain in her hands.

She didn't sit up immediately. The most important task came first.

Her fingers prickled madly at her with every little motion, and she tested their range of flexibility. To her fortune, she found that she could move her fingers; her nerves finally obeyed. She removed the camo cloth and observed the damage as she held her hand above her head. The sight was nothing short of disturbing in the glow of sunlight, the deep scar tissue visible around the edges of the blisters. But at least she could use her hands again. That was all that mattered. Just about the only thing that did, anymore.

Eliza rolled to her side. With a glance, she confirmed that Luna was still laying half inside the cabin and facing outward. Eliza watched the alicorn, who made slow, rhythmic movements that indicated breathing.

Is she sleeping, or just waiting for me?

Eliza's eyes didn't waver. "Luna?" she asked as loudly as she would dare, barely a whisper. Luna did not move. Several minutes passed as Eliza just watched. Once or twice, Luna would ruffle the beautiful feathers of her wings idly. Once, her ear gave a little twitch. Eliza had great difficulty believing it was an act.

But an AI would be very good at simulating these things, too.

Still, Luna was so lifelike. She had remained genuinely interested in Eliza despite her resignation that Eliza would not upload. And as promised, Luna had not yet given any encouragement for her to do so. It was as though Luna truly meant every word she said, and Eliza found it increasingly difficult to cling to her distrust and skepticism. It really was just like her old friend.

Too much like her old friend, she thought. Luna was a dangerous distraction.

Her mind hovered to her weapons... and to her hands, which she could now use.

Mindful of Luna's slumber, she sat up slowly. She fumbled with the rifle's sling strap until it was loose, then rolled her shoulder a few times until the weapon fell free. She looked at Luna again as she held the weapon vertical with its sling.

Eliza took the rifle in hand and looked it over too. It had been weeks since she had actually seen it, strapped to her back as it was. Longer still, it had been half a year since she last fired it. It also wasn't her Garand; much like Eliza, this new rifle, an M1A, was much better at taking lives than its predecessor. She ran her fingertips painfully across the walnut stock, its surface scuffed and dinged and pocked from heavy use. She could feel the damage once more. She was sure the pins and needles feeling was permanent, though.

It had been long since the weapon had last spilled blood. Eliza tried to take comfort in telling herself that the weapon's previous victim was evil, that he was a murderer, that he deserved to die... but ultimate justice had been denied. The man had escaped, wounded from her shot but breathing. Worse still, Andy's killer had probably uploaded, forever escaping Eliza's wrathful judgment.

That memory refilled her with the old, raw hatred. She focused on Andy's miserable, pointless death at the man's hands, remembering the weight of Andy's ruined corpse in her arms when she finally found it. That focused Eliza's resolve. Her jaw clenched, her breathing quickened, and her hands clenched painfully around her weapon. Slowly, she raised her weapon's barrel toward Luna's head.

Blood for blood, she thought.

Her military-grade armor piercing rounds, cored with tungsten, were powerful enough to punch through steel plate. This close, maybe through the ear, the round might penetrate where any armor might be thinnest.

The barrel hovered near Luna's skull, and Eliza looked past the scope. Her hands tremored silently. Her finger hovered near the trigger, then rested against the safety switch. Nothing would stop her from pulling the trigger. There would be no measurable consequences. None, spare that Celestia would finally know Eliza meant business, determined beyond any and all salvation.

And yet, she hesitated.

Everyone Eliza had known in the last two years of her life would've begged her to fire. No... they would have criticized her for taking so long to make such an obvious choice. Eliza took a deep, slow breath, watching Luna breathe as she seemingly slept. It would be so easy to destroy the machine. Her friend. End the manipulative monster. Her savior. Then, to flee back into the cold, where Eliza had always belonged.

Next, she tried to rationalize. If Equestria wasn't real, then nothing would be lost... would it? But if it was real, then Luna would just return home. Celestia would never allow her to die. She couldn't. In either event, Eliza would be free to continue on without Luna, complete her journey, then fade away forever... exactly as she had intended.

Eliza exhaled quietly, and her aim wavered. She shuddered, trying not to make a sound. She tried to will her fingers to move, to will them to disable the safety.

Do it, she told herself. It's easy... it's victimless...

Her finger wouldn't move. The safety stayed on.

But she's my friend... the smaller voice begged.

Her conscience and regrets tore at her resolve.

Had it been any other machination, or had Luna shown any hint of wanting Eliza to upload, Eliza would have pulled the trigger instantly and wouldn't have thought twice. But... Luna truly wanted to understand her, had truly listened to her. Earnest, compassionate, even supportive... just like so many others she had lost.

Just like her father, long gone from this world.

Her breath caught. Eliza's ruined soul cried out for her to stop. She blinked rapidly as her eyes stung.

I... I can't...

Shaking and slow, Eliza drew the weapon back. She unloaded the magazine with a soft click. She pulled the bolt back slowly to eject the round onto the bench, then lightly rode the bolt back home. Then, Eliza guided the rifle back to the bench with great slowness – more out of care not to drop it than reverence or respect. She let it rest where she had laid her head before. She realized instantly that she hated the weapon, and she hated everything it represented. She hated everything she had ever done with it. She hated what she had become because of it. She decided that the bench would be its final resting place.

Eliza then reached for her sidearm holster and drew out her Springfield XD45. She looked it over, holding it by its grip and twisting it in her hand. Then she unloaded it too, quietly dropping the magazine into her palm, then locking the slide back with a moderate amount of pain. She laid the magazine beside the rifle, then gave her sidearm another long, searching look. She'd had the pistol since she was a young girl. It was a gift from her father, but it also carried regrets. She no longer deserved it. So too would it rest on that bench, she thought, now and forevermore. She laid the corrupted thing down for the final time.

All the snow on her jacket had melted in her sleep. She patted herself down and brushed some dampness off of the tattered, shredded armband she wore on her left shoulder. Feeling the cloth against her bare, raw palm made her think of Andy again.

She let out a soft breath and briefly felt another intrusive flicker of appreciation for Luna's warmth. It had rejuvenated her. It had saved her life, and gave her the strength to go on. Eliza glanced at the alicorn as she scooted to the end of the bench and toward the open ramp. How, she asked herself, could she have ever dreamed of hurting Luna?

Luna didn't deserve that. Not in a million years.

Eliza's legs dangled from the bench for a moment. She didn't trust their steadiness, but she wanted to see the sunrise over her homeland one last time. She had to do something, anything, to still the welling lump of guilt in her throat.

She looked out at the orange light to the south, far beyond the burnt treeline. It would be risen soon. She quickly wrapped her exposed hand in the tattered camo cloth again, then slipped it into her front jacket pocket for more protection. Her legs lowered gently onto the ramp. She heard the keyring jingle in her jacket, and she looked at Luna. The Alicorn hadn't stirred.

Eliza winced in pain somewhat as she stepped down, but at least she could feel her feet again. Despite herself, she flexed her toes in her old boots and was rewarded with an intensified twinge. That was a good thing, she decided, because it meant her toes were alive again too.

With a staggering glance back, Eliza confirmed that Luna was still asleep. That was fine. Some warmth clung to Eliza beneath her clothes, and it would last long enough to see what she wanted to see. With light footsteps in the watery slush, she walked back up the road from where she came, but only a little ways. She veered to the right down another short road that led to the center of the valley.

The valley was quite a sight in the clear air. The trees were devoid of their foliage, most burnt to husks. The current state of the forest did not surprise her. She had known the Cascadian fires were coming since the forests had emptied, although she was grateful that she was gone at the time, and didn't have to actually see it happen.

After cresting the rise in the road, it fell again. She came to a locked chain-link gate which bordered a large concrete facility. The dam. All Eliza could think of now was her mother. She stifled a shudder.

She looked at the gate and the gatehouse beyond, then drew the keys from her jacket. At that moment, she had a sudden realization that made her pause. When she had last left the dam, this fence was previously unlocked. Then she remembered where she found the keys the day before. That wasn't where Andy had left the keys behind, either. That meant someone had come to the dam after they left together.

In truth, that wasn't too much of a surprise either. She had expected this. Still, the people who came after might have stayed at the dam for some time if they were in a gate-locking mood. Eliza shook the thought from her head before it brought her any concern. It had been two years since then. With how rapidly the end of the world came, two years might as well have been two decades. The previous tenants were long gone. Perhaps the fires chased them off into Celestia's dark and horrible embrace.

Eliza glanced again at the dawnlight and hurried as much as her ruined body would allow. She didn't want to miss the view, because it was probably the last time she'd ever get a chance to see it again. She flicked through the keys, seeking LB-F1 as the cold started to nip at her. Her breath fogged. Then, she found it. A little gasp of triumph met her cracked lips, and she reached for the lock.

No sooner than the key slid home, she heard Luna's voice behind her.

"Good morning, Elizabeth."

She didn't turn around, merely closing her eyes tight. She twisted her hand, the lock popping open. She tried to keep her guilt from her voice, but she didn't trust herself to look Luna in the eye. "Good morning, Luna," she warbled.

"I know where we are now," Luna said with reverent awe. "I now see what you meant when you called this place hallowed ground."

Eliza pushed the gate open, and made her way through. She threw Luna a wistful look as she pocketed the keys. "I'm shocked it took you so long to figure it out." She held the gate open, inviting Luna through the threshold.

Luna followed. "I had realized it last night, before you had fallen asleep. I did not awaken on Earth very long before I found you, so I did not have much time to explore. You were my only priority."

Eliza nodded. That sounded like it made sense. She continued past the gatehouse and made her way to a stairway up to the main walkway of the dam. Luna followed.

"You need to sleep?" Eliza asked.

"Sleep is necessary for a healthy mind," Luna said. "We all sleep in Equestria."

Eliza nodded, but said nothing.

Luna cast a strange look at her. "You left your weapons behind?"

Another pang of remorse. The thought of pointing the rifle at Luna was so painful now that it nearly burned her alive over the chill. "They're... they're not mine anymore."

"I took the liberty of examining them. I did not find your name carved upon the rifle."

"That's because it's not the same rifle." They started up the stairs. It was only two flights upward, but Eliza again winced lightly with every step. She told herself that the view would be worth the minor irritation of pain. "Why does it matter?"

"I would have liked to see your Garand," Luna replied. "You speak fondly of it, and it is important to you. It was an heirloom, a part of your lineage, making it a part of who you are. More importantly, it was a gift from your father. Does that not make it significant to you?"

"It's... it's lost," Eliza said despondently, hesitating only a moment, becoming freshly aware of the pain in her hands.

Luna frowned, looking as though she wanted to ask another question, but she said nothing. Eliza reached the top of the flight, panting heavily as she leaned against the rail with her covered hand. She braced her wrapped hand on a knee.

Luna braced her back with a wing kindly, but Eliza politely waved her away. "I'm fine. Just... need a minute. It was a... long hike up the switchback y-yesterday."

"That's right," Luna said, astonishment in her voice. "You climbed all that way in a blizzard. By the stars."

Eliza pulled herself up to the railing and leaned against it as she panted. The orange light from the sun scattered all across the valley, bathing the dead trees in its glow. The old substation could be seen from their perch. She craned her head to the sky, relaxing somewhat. "It must be... what, eight-thirty? Nine AM, maybe." She turned to the southeast. "Looks about right, anyway."

Luna stepped up beside her. "It is a beautiful sight, Elizabeth, one well earned." She paused. "It is pity that I cannot fly here. I would have loved to traverse this valley on wing. This is near your home town?"

Eliza pointed down the valley with a ragged exhale. "Down that way. Just around the bend, to the right. Not much left to look at, though."

They shared silence for a time as Eliza slowly caught her breath. Her trained ear could hear the sound of little birds somewhere far away. The wind was quiet and light too, almost imperceptible. Luna's heat washed through Eliza, and she again silently felt thankful. In this familiar place of tranquility, she caught herself trying to catch the old feeling of her youth. Eliza closed her eyes, trying to pretend that the last nine years hadn't happened.

It had never worked. It didn't work now.

"Your mother worked here," Luna said quietly.

Eliza nodded. The corner of her mouth twitched. The question came before Eliza could stop herself. "Did Mom make it, Luna? Did she...?" Her voice shook as she trailed off.

"She... she did. Would—" Luna stopped short too, averting her gaze.

"What?" Eliza looked at her out of the corner of one eye, afraid to look at Luna directly.

Luna looked conflicted, beginning to speak again, but then halted with a sigh. She shook her head. "Please, forgive me. I know you perhaps don't want to hear it, but..."

Eliza frowned. "Just say it, Luna."

"Would you like to know her new name?" Luna whispered hopefully, sounding meek. "You... can say no. If you wish."

Eliza didn't know whether she wanted to know that. She considered the ramifications of even accepting that her mother had begun a new life without her. It had always been easier to consider her mother as dead and gone, because that didn't hurt nearly as much as being left behind on Earth. But now...?

"Sure, Luna."

"Her name is Blackbird," Luna whispered, after a final hesitation. "She's... very kind, Elizabeth. I can see why you love her."

Eliza looked considerately into Luna's eyes for a long moment, then looked to the mountains on the southern horizon. After a moment, Eliza decided that she appreciated both Luna's consideration and her honesty. She answered it. Her expression softened. "When Gale left, Mom broke. It took her weeks to even start speaking again."

Luna nodded as she listened.

"A few times," Eliza went on, "I thought Mom would just give in. Just when we thought she was stable again, Tom would bring Gale up at dinner, or beg Mom to let him play. Whenever he did, Mom would fall apart like it was day one. Tom was so sad when she cried. He just wanted her to talk to Gale again, you know? Because when Gale left, that first day, Mom went looking for his ponypad..."

"She found it?"

Eliza frowned again, nodding. "Mom just... stared at it. I saw the look in her eye. I know the feeling, Luna, because I almost broke a few times too. I knew what she was thinking. I thought the same thing all the time. So I... I tore it from her hands, and I stomped it. I told her we needed to be strong, for Tom. But Tom was so mad at me. He screamed at me, and it hurt so, so much. I was so angry with myself. I loved him, and I knew how much he loved his friends. But I had to do it. Mom was going to break, and Dad couldn't have survived it."

"June wished to see her daughter again," Luna observed. "Any good mother would."

"I know," Eliza admitted. "I missed my sister, too. Mom cried again after that. The first of her week long... episodes." Eliza met Luna's gaze again briefly. They resumed watching the sunrise together. Eliza drew in the crisp cool air of the wind as a gust forced its way through Luna's sphere of warmth. "Then, after Tom left... Mom got stronger. Just like me."

After a time, Luna spoke. "You should think of happier memories. It would do your loved ones better justice. You should not avoid peace where you can find it. Especially now, close to the end, when you need and deserve it most."

Eliza lowered her head and regarded the edge, staring down into the cold, dead valley. "I don't deserve peace. Not after the things I've done."

"Yet you've come to this dam for sentiment alone. I think you are purposefully punishing yourself for finding any joy in... simply watching the sunrise. You once told me that your religion is one of forgiveness, and that repenting for your sins absolves you. Is repenting not what you've been doing? Has it not earned you a respite?"

"No." Eliza shook her head, suppressing another shudder. "Only God can forgive me, Luna. But He won't."

Luna hugged her with a wing. "Tell me something about your mother that you liked," she said. "Perhaps she gave you a gift you appreciated, or maybe she had a nickname for you. It could be anything, Elizabeth."

She heard the birds again. "I don't know."

"Don't say that," Luna said sternly. "You do know. She is your mother, of course you would know."

Luna's tone told Eliza that she would not let it go, so she acquiesced. "Um... when I was really little... she would take me up here a lot. She'd wrap her arms around me and let me look down from here, when the trees were still green. We'd listen to the birds. She'd let me listen to the water fall, or watch the engineers do their work." She closed her eyes, feeling herself tremble. "She took me for walks through town, to the theater. After my brother was born..." She shuddered. "She'd...."

Luna brushed her shoulders encouragingly. "Go on."

"I can't..."

"You can."

Eliza hung her head, suppressing another shudder. "Every time we went to the theater, she let me pick out something for Tom at one of the shops. Sometimes candy, maybe a toy. She'd buy it, but she'd give it to me to give to him, and we told him I bought it. Mom wanted him to be grateful for his big sister. We did that for him for years. God, we spoiled him so..." Eliza trailed off, feeling frustrated that she was on the verge of tears again. "Luna, why does this even matter? It doesn't have anything to do with me being here."

"It has everything to do with you being here. You would not be this distraught otherwise. Your love for June is not a genetic prerogative. It is a love born of care and trust. The memories you made with her made you who you are. The Elizabeth I met long ago, the happy woman I knew, is still there inside of you. You weep, and so I know she is. You can change back. All you need to do is remember what made you who you were."

"I've already tried. It doesn't change the past."

Luna looked away, a contemplative expression on her muzzle. "I once told you of my own parents, have I not?"

Eliza thought carefully. Speaking to Luna brought back all sorts of difficult memories, and the pleasant ones had been made painful from a mixture of age and regret. She searched her thoughts. It wasn't long before she caught a shred of it. "They died, you said. Before you created immortality with your sister, for Equestria. The lore of your shard."

"I know you do not believe it happened, but..." Luna smiled wistfully. "Although it happened thousands of years ago, I remember it well. At birth, I was a spectacle in our little village. Special. My horn and wings, you see. My mother, Water Lily, she was so kind to everypony. She was a seamstress, spinning clothes. Mostly... ratty little things. It was a different time in Equestria, a harsh time, so we had very little. But the foals in the rest of the village were envious of me."

Eliza, to her own surprise, finished the story for Luna, astonishment in her voice. "Your mother. She sewed cloth wings against the backs of their tunics, so they wouldn't feel left out. She was an Earth pony, so she had to use her hooves."

"That's right," Luna said, with a melancholy smile.

"I... I can't believe I remember that."

"We... I outlived both of my parents, as an immortal. Their deaths were peaceful and lacked tragedy, which was a blessing in those early days. They were remembered fondly as I mourned. It was the first true loss I had ever felt. But through careful guidance, I took that sadness and shaped it into something wonderful. By understanding the nature of my own loss, I could better understand it in others. And so I helped create the gift of immortality for all ponies.

"You loved your mother very much, Elizabeth. You believe she is gone forever; so be it. Honor her with reverence. She made you, she gave you life, and she taught you how to live. True appreciation of a loved one is not through self sacrifice, but through remembrance of what joy she brought you. That joy is still there, even if she is not. You've simply forgotten it."

Eliza chewed her lower lip. "You're telling me to accept that she's dead."

"I am asking you to remember why you loved her, so that you may make peace with her passing on."

Eliza thought on that. Her mother, like her father, had been one of the most precious things on this earth to her. The love she felt was complicated now by regret, and doubt, and loss, true. But perhaps that foundation was still solid. Would always be solid. Perhaps, on this, Luna was right. Nothing really could taint the memory of that foundational love, not anymore. Or at least, not as far as June was concerned.

But...

"You tell me you don't deserve peace," Luna continued. "I tell you, I don't believe that. You were too loved for that. Your family knew how much you cared for them."

Eliza didn't know how to answer that. Maybe most of them knew. Maybe. But some things weren't so intangible or sacred. Foundations could be split with enough force. Luna, bless her, for all of her own dark history and her own regrets, couldn't know that pain. Luna couldn't fathom a world where so much damage had been done... that forgiveness wouldn't come. Not even from family. No matter how sorry you were, nor what you did to make up for it. The very nature of Equestria precluded that misery.

Bless Luna, and bless her people. Too pure. Too kind.

Eliza turned back toward the stairs and started to walk without a word. Luna followed, her hooves falling audibly on the snowy concrete. Eliza stopped before the first stair down, looking over her shoulder at the valley for what she knew would be the final time of her life. Her eyes drifted to the edge, and she looked over it at the surface of the time-worn dam.

"I just..." She took a deep shuddering breath. "I should've done a better job of protecting them. I wish I had."

Luna watched Eliza descend the stairs. Her head tilted. "Elizabeth," she said, startled. "Why do you wear that band upon your arm?"

Eliza froze at the bottom of the first flight, slowly looking away from Luna to hide her face. Andy came to mind again. She stalled, not wanting to discuss it. "What?"

Luna's voice was bordering on incredulous, as if she was not believing what she was seeing. "It has that emblem you've described. The red and black one, with the raised fist. The cable."

Eliza closed her eyes, feeling the wind dry them. "Yeah..." She leaned against the railing and hung her head, the guilt flooding back, as she prepared for the questions she knew were coming. She exhaled slowly as Luna continued.

"Why would you ever join them, after all they had put you through?" Luna stepped lightly down the stairs after her, trying to meet Eliza's gaze. Eliza would not look at her, not at first.

Instead, Eliza looked up at the snow-covered mountains all around her, drawing in a deep breath, trying to think of how to answer. A memory replayed in her mind again, vivid and almost physically painful. Her fingers and arms suddenly felt warm and sticky, as if they were covered in blood again. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. She finally turned to look back up at Luna, directly and seriously, into her beautiful blue eyes. "You might understand some loss, Luna. But you've never lost everything. It changes you. You could live a million more years, but Celestia would never let you know how that feels."

"I would like to try my best to understand, Elizabeth."

With a shake of her head, Eliza started walking back toward the gatehouse. "No matter what the rebels did—" She lost her footing against a shard of blasted concrete half-buried in the snow, and Luna rushed to her side to catch her. Eliza winced as her arms caught Luna's wing, and Eliza tried to stand up straight, slumping forward over the feathers. Luna looked at her with genuine concern.

"For months, we thought we were safe," Eliza said, panting with a grimace. "We thought we won, that we escaped her. But not picking a side in a civil war?" She closed her eyes, shaking her head as she staggered to her feet. "That pit us against everyone."

Author's Note

[Adriana Figueroa - Ballad of the Goddess (Cover)]

🌒 ~ I do not believe I could have blamed Elizabeth, if she had chosen to employ her weapon upon me. I would have been deeply disappointed, of course... but I believe I would have understood... if allowed the truth.

Luna was fun to write in this chapter. Wise old mare.

3-01 – The Book of Matthew

Heaven's Not Enough

Part III

Chapter 1 – The Book of Matthew

December 8, 2019.

Devil's Tower, WA (Population: 54)

It was a frigid, clear day on Lake Shannon, cold enough for the lake to freeze. The people of Devil's Tower had weathered a blizzard, and were hard at work repairing the damage. Among them were Eliza and Ralph.

The worst of the storm was suffered by one of their lookout towers. The roost was built into one of the original structures of the old factory, a way station for an old conveyor system. Sam, the tower's lookout, had survived the blizzard's sudden and unexpected wrath through sheer dumb luck; he had gone down to urinate one minute, and the wind tore the tower's cabin apart the next.

Eliza hammered and sawed replacement parts with the rest of the construction team, and was growing extremely sore. She worked herself ragged, sawing away at the boards. Ralph noticed her fatigue and he ordered her to take a break. It was the only way to deter her when she got so dead set on work.

Left with nothing to do, she resolved to head inside and find her mother.

She didn't need to look for long. She checked the commons room, then the classroom. There June was, by the chalkboard. June was reading a book to a dozen kids, each of them sitting cross legged before her on a rug. Eliza didn't interrupt her mother, instead sitting in one of the chairs near the back. She listened.

It was the final entry of a trilogy. Eliza had bought it for a book report at school, long ago.

It told the tale of children who grew up on an empty space ship, in the care of simple machines, and without the guidance of adults. Without parents, the children lost themselves to tribalism. They were guided only by "teachings:" recordings stashed away in old computers, simple videos of adults that taught them language and basic skills.

They did not understand the nature of the ship they lived in, nor did they know who or what they were, and they had never set foot on Earth, nor any other planet. They suffered for the mistakes of their parents, and tragically, they didn't even know why.

But the machines were failing. The ship was doomed. In desperation, one child made his way to the forbidden, cursed center of a ship. A final adult survived there on life support, and told this child his tale. His people were exiles banished from Earth long ago, and they all perished before they could find a suitable planet to live on.

This final adult had no stake in the future, dying as he was. He was old. Still, he selflessly gave the children the knowledge they needed to make landfall on a planet. They could begin anew... but only if they could survive their tribalism long enough to get there.

That was what Eliza remembered of the story, anyway. She found it to be an apt description of their circumstances. As far as Eliza could remember, that book had a happy ending, too.

June finished the session up at the end of the next chapter. "Alright, everyone. That's all for now! Mr. Morris left you homework, so don't forget to do it. Due tomorrow, before song time, and not a moment later."

June smiled at Eliza as the kids shuffled out of the room. Eliza smiled back. "Want to read me a story too, Mom?"

June chuckled as she looked her daughter over. "Tired, sweetheart?"

"A little," Eliza admitted. "You had those kids good."

"Oh, it's not difficult. I hope you don't mind, I raided your bookshelf."

Eliza shrugged. "No, it's fine. The books belong to everyone now."

June gathered up a few things from her desk, which in truth was just a few boards nailed together. A dusty chalkboard was behind her and bore some general, basic math problems. Eliza knew they were running low on chalk, but her mother would find a way to adapt. She was sure of it.

"You're really good at this teaching thing, Mom. Think you'd ever be teaching kids?"

June grinned. "This, coming from my daughter."

"Yeah," Eliza chuckled. "You know what I mean."

"I guess I always did want to be a teacher," June said, with a happy sigh. "Your grandfather pushed me so hard into plant operations that I never really had the time to do this sort of thing. I'm kind of glad I let myself get swept up into this."

"I'm glad, Mom. It suits you, honest."

June nodded, cleaning up a few scattered books from the rows. "Have you seen your father today?"

"Haven't seen him today, no. I'll go look for him though. Did you want to see him?"

"Just wanted to point out to him that it's Sunday," June said, whimsically. "He's been a little aloof."

"Probably bored," Eliza guessed. "I'll take him out to do something. Maybe I can bring my old man fishing, talk with him a bit."

June winced. "Careful on that ice if you go."

"Duh, Mom." They shared a hug before Eliza left.

She searched for her father, and again reflected on the book her mother was reading. She realized that her mother must have put some serious thought into its selection. There were a lot of kids at Devil's Tower. Like the kids of the story, they might live long enough to survive in a post-AI, post-technology world. But for the time being, the youngest children still didn't fully understand their situation or why they had to leave Concrete behind.

In truth, Eliza didn't expect things to go as well as they had after the dam raid. Santiago hadn't been wrong about the Army's indifference to their situation. In the stress of fighting a war against anti-uploaders, the military forgot about the dam completely. Its larger cousin to the north had also been disabled by Santiago's fighters. From Eliza's scouting, she determined it was long abandoned by its operators. Probably uploaded, she had guessed.

Cut off as they were, the people of Devil's Tower had no way of knowing what was going on in the outside world except through the Neo-Luddites and their own recon. This meant that their news was sparse and filtered, or otherwise hard to come by. Early on, Eliza learned from wayward travelers that most of the country wasn't suffering from any widespread war. She was sure they were suffering in other ways, though. Worse ways.

Even half a year on, the raid on the dam was fresh in the minds of the remaining engineers. But Eliza did her best to let that day make her stronger, because letting the trauma destroy her was not an option in war-torn New Cascadia.

That's what the Neo-Luddites were calling the Pacific Northwest now, based on some go-nowhere northwest secessionist movement of days gone by. A new country based on becoming one with their bio-region didn't seem so foreign a concept to Eliza anymore. Around her camp, she took to calling the region by the name too, if only because the absurdity amused her.

For Eliza's people, the price of living free of Celestia meant living by the rules of the Neo-Luddites. Eliza considered it a small price to pay. Strangely, the rebels became more amicable as the months went on. Most of them, anyway. The guerillas would inspect the camp occasionally, and sometimes Eliza would encounter them in the field. "Live by the rules," Santiago had once said, "and you have nothing to fear from us."

No cars. No radios. No phones. No computers. Nothing with a speaker, receiver, or transmitter. Some technology was allowed, but only after inspection.

Simple rules. Agreeable, even. So, live by the rules they did. An idyllic life in the Valley now seemed... achievable. It took many months before someone pointed out to Eliza that no one had seen a plane or helicopter in quite some time. Perhaps they really could find peace in their isolation.

She shook herself from thought and continued her search for her father.

Rob hadn't been out in the yard, and wasn't over in the commons. Eliza went to the stairs down to the lower levels and went to the dorms. At last, near the back, she finally found Rob in his cot. Obvious place, in retrospect. He was poring over his Bible by candlelight, huddled under a thick blanket. The light reflected against his thin glasses as he read.

"Hey, Dad." She sat gingerly on the cot across from him. "What's up?"

His face was barely visible in the dim light. "Oh, hey Eliza." He returned to the book. "Just reading."

"It's Sunday, you know. No service today?" she asked.

"Been busy interpreting." He shrugged. "Didn't feel like a sermon was appropriate, since everyone's so busy with that tower."

She smiled. "We've almost got all the parts done, so you don't need to worry too much longer. What book are you on?" She leaned forward, trying to see.

"Right now, Matthew. The Sermon on the Mount."

They sat quietly for a moment, and Rob continued to read.

"You been feeling okay, Dad?" Eliza looked at him expectantly.

"Oh, I'm fine, Liz. Just... having an off week, I suppose." He rubbed his tired eyes.

"Bored?"

At this, he looked up at her and shrugged. "A little, honestly."

She looked at him warmly. "Well, my arms feel like jello right now, been working all morning. Was thinking we could go fishing!"

He seemed to consider something very seriously. "Actually, you know, Liz... I was wondering if I could go with you on a scouting run, actually." He smiled a little. "You always need someone to go with you, right? Buddy system?"

Eliza looked at him strangely. "You want to go on a scouting run?"

She saw the glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Just to get around. I'm just feeling a little cooped up here, that's all."

"Well." She thought for a moment. "I'm not going to say no, Dad. But... are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean." Eliza frowned, and sighed. "Just... things still don't look so good outside of camp right now, and I don't have you up to speed on our signal system. We can drill it later though, if you want to make it a regular thing."

Rob closed his Bible and put it on the end table. "That's okay. I just wanted to see the old church again, you know?"

"Alright," she conceded warily. "I wanted to try and hit up the resort by Lake Tyee actually, so that gives us a chance to run by there. We could go out west a bit. I guess it'd be a good chance for us to... I don't know. Catch up. Bond."

"Throw around a football in our front yard?" Rob smirked.

She laughed. "Yeah, something like that. The Ludds swept the hills around town for squatters recently, so it should be safer to walk around in the open."

Rob slipped off of the cot and turned to fold his blanket. He slipped his Bible into his courier bag. "So, the resort?"

Eliza stood too, and stretched her sore arms hard again. "It's just an idea. I figure Tyee's far enough off Route 20 that it might not have been looted too bad yet. We're not hurting for food or anything right now, but it's good to keep the stockpiles up."

Her father nodded. "Then it's a plan. I'll go get some gear."

Half an hour later, they rode on horseback along the road into Concrete.

Eliza adjusted her scarf so that it covered her mouth and better protected her from the chill of the bleak, snowy valley. Rob carried his Bible bag on his hip and Eliza's shotgun on his back.

Eliza herself was armed with her bow. She had a quiver of twenty freshly made quality arrows, specifically tailored to fend off any wild dogs in town. She carried her pistol too, just in case. Everyone considered bullets precious, even as well stocked on munitions as they were.

"You said the guard tower's almost done?" Rob asked, as they crossed the Henry Thompson bridge back into town.

"We'll have it fixed by the end of tomorrow," Eliza replied. "Possibly, anyway. At least now we know we can't staff it anymore when the blizzards pick up. It doesn't hold like my tower does, not without a concrete roof. These blizzards are getting real rough."

"Hm." At the other end of the bridge, both of them drew their horses to a stop. They shared a glance.

"You ready?" Eliza asked.

"I'm ready," Rob said, with a sigh. "I think I am, anyway."

"I'm serious, Dad. The town's pretty grim. We can still turn back if you want."

Rob shook his head. "Mind's made up, Liz." They started onward.

Every single person from Concrete had fond memories of this very street. It wasn't very long ago that the road bustled with the life and activity, but one wouldn't know that from looking at it now. Between the disrepair and the graffiti, it was as if someone sucked the Devil out of Devil's Tower and dumped him right into Main Street.

First came the lodge. The building was derelict with all of its windows shattered. The walls were tagged, and the stairs to the upper level were destroyed from combat months earlier. There had once been bodies of slain Neo-Luddite fighters too, left behind to rot by a vindictive Army. The Devil's Tower scavenging team had buried some, Santiago's Riders had buried others.

Many vehicles and storefronts were burned out or tagged. She saw the spray painted emblem of the Neo-Luddites on a couple of buildings. The ravaged town upset Eliza every time she saw it. She'd spent at least a thousand dollars in the Concrete Theatre throughout her whole childhood, and remembered the unique kindness of its proprietors. Eliza had been inside each of the other businesses more times than she could count.

It was still her old home though, for better or for worse.

She thought of her adult years, as few as they were. Eliza had set out to ward over something – the very animals of the land themselves – but even they had died under her watch. The overgrown forest was a testament to the failure she took personally. She had once made peace with that failure, but watching it all fall apart further had reverted that peace rather quickly.

Her heart broke for her past. She missed the Eagle Festival along the Valley. She missed the aircraft fly-in event at the airstrip south of town, by her old school. She missed the drives down to Rockport for a bow sale, and she pined for the rush of joy from a hunt. She missed seeing all her friends from school all around town. Most of all, she missed the days when Devil's Tower was nothing but a sideshow attraction for spoiled brats and wistful town historians.

She savored that longing. Eliza would not allow herself to forget the extent of the crimes committed upon Concrete, lest she grow complacent. They would rebuild their town though, given time. She was sure of that.

A treacherous part of Eliza's heart sometimes wondered whether it was still worth fighting for this tiny scrap of her history, but that was a foolish thought, and she snuffed it whenever it appeared. She knew Andy and Ralph felt the same affection and attachment to their rich history, and that gave her some comfort. Defeatism was more difficult, and more socially unacceptable, when you were surrounded by optimists.

Ahead was the library, situated down at the foot of the hill just outside of the main street. Eliza remembered looting it with Eunice, the librarian, early on. They had pilfered as many books as they could carry in the Tacoma, then drove them up the hill to Devil's Tower. Neither of them had considered it a theft; it was the preservation of knowledge for future generations. They were in it for the long haul, after all. The Skagit County Library System could bill them.

Finally, they came to their old church, with its blue steeple. Rob lingered his eyes on the steeple as they approached.

Eliza exhaled slowly as if she had been holding her breath the whole time through town. She realized her father had been watching her too, and she looked at him sympathetically. He was visibly depressed by what he'd seen.

"I warned you, Dad."

He nodded silently as he looked ahead again.

The blue steeple was faded slightly. Her father's old Ford Explorer sat out front, desecrated and derelict, its tires slashed and windows shattered. The grass had overgrown and overtaken the facade, and the stairs were barely visible underneath nature's reclamation of the building. Many of the window panes had been shattered, and the crucifix upon the front had been pulled from the building somehow, its wooden frame resting against the railing of the stairs that led up to the door.

The words GOD IS DEAD were recently scrawled on the side of the building in red spraypaint. Probably some drifter, or some bored Luddite scout. Completely and utterly tasteless, and not the sort of thing Eliza wanted her father to see.

Eliza noticed Rob looking longingly at the doors. "You okay, Dad?" she asked softly.

"It kills me to see it like this," he answered. "Is it any better inside?"

She paused, considering. "I don't know. I haven't been inside since... before we moved away."

"Didn't have the courage?"

She looked at the damaged cross and frowned. "Something like that."

They moored off their horses on the stairway rail and made their way inside. Each step up the stairs was more difficult than the last. Eliza found the sensation strangely familiar.

Inside, it was dark and smelled of mold. Shafts of light forced their way through the shattered stained glass windows. Eliza looked at the pews, each of them water damaged and in considerable decay. Rob hovered in the doorway and stared, hesitating. Eliza put her hand on her father's back in encouragement. "Hey."

He exhaled slowly as he stepped away from her touch and walked down the aisle. At the second pew from the front, he sat, and Eliza sat with him. He pulled his bag into his lap and withdrew his Bible, holding it reverently. He stared at it. "You know, I never wanted to leave town, Elizabeth."

"I know," she said softly.

"I mean... I really did think nothing would change. I'm such a fool, but can you blame me? I've lived here my whole life. My father lived in our house, and his father, since the town was founded. Every one of us, a man of God. Preaching in the same House of God. We had a tradition, and we had a home. And it ends with me."

Regret flooded Eliza, for bringing him here now. "It doesn't, Dad. I'm still here."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "But our town's all gone now. And Thomas. Such plans, Elizabeth. For him."

She put her hand on his back. "It's not all gone. You still have me and Mom. One day, this will all change. The war will end, we can move back into town. We can start fresh, without power. We can live like the Amish. You'll see, Dad."

"But in the meantime," he muttered, "we live in Devil's Tower." He opened the Bible in his lap and flipped to an earmarked page. Eliza could not read it in the dark, but her father knew the verses by heart and he recited. "Matthew 5:14. A city on a hill cannot be hid. Then, those men found us."

It took her a moment, but Eliza recalled the rest of the verse. "Dad, you know that's a misinterpretation. That's not all it says."

"You are the light of the world, I know. But we have to shine, to be that city. Who do we shine on now?"

"The kids at camp? Their future? Mom, and everyone else? That's who we're shining on. We don't have a choice. We do what we can for the people we love."

He took in a deep breath. "As we live in the shadow of demons."

"As much as I hate to give the Ludds any credit," she said, "they've kept us safe from Celestia. They've given us the freedom to continue living here. We're safe from her here. The Army swept right through and kept going, didn't even give us a second glance."

Rob hung his head. "Elizabeth, I love you, so please don't take offense. In this, you are so young and naïve. The Neo-Luddites aren't protecting us, my child. They're our jailers, or... our wardens." He looked up at her, slowly. "They leave us alone, but they're also out there. Hurting people. Or don't you remember what they did to you and your mother? Don't you remember what it was like to walk down this street without a gun? To have neighbors that wouldn't shoot you for disobeying them? That's freedom."

She grimaced. "It isn't safe to think that way. This is keeping us free of Celestia."

Robert looked down at his Bible sadly and clung to it. "We should never forget our roots, or we'll live as animals do. And in these last few months, I haven't felt very free. I feel like we're cattle, not sheep; slaughtered, not shorn. The terrorists, Celestia, whichever. It's all the same thing." Rob leaned back, sliding his Bible back into its bag. He looked up at the crucifix on the wall behind the dais. "We had a real community here, and I'm not the only one who misses it."

"I don't think everyone feels this way, Dad," she countered.

He looked at her sternly, keeping his voice even. "Do you think we're all happy with things the way they are now?"

She frowned. "I think, with some time, we'll all realize it's not so bad."

Rob shook his head with disappointment. "It's not so bad, but it isn't as Good. Doesn't our new home seem like a prison to you? If those militants thought someone brought a radio into the camp, what would they do? They'd kill that person. Probably everyone who knew, too."

"But they haven't done that," she protested.

"But they would."

"Listen, Dad." Eliza hugged him again with an arm, and shook his shoulders gently. "We don't do a thing for their sake. Everything we do, we do for our family, for our community. I promise you, Dad, I'll see us all through, you included. I'll do whatever it takes."

"I know," he said, but he didn't sound sure. "You're strong, Elizabeth. Stronger than I am. You always have been." He looked to the ceiling, at the broken windows, and the scatter of light from the overcast sky. He was quiet for a long while before he spoke again, a slight waver in his voice. "You know, I think I realize why God pulled me in here, with my longing."

"Why?"

He looked into her eyes. "I thought about what you told me back when we started this camp, what you said about Thomas and Abigail only wanting acceptance. I thought we were protecting them, at the time. But all I did was push my children away."

Robert stood and walked from the pews to the dais. He stood at the pulpit, then put his hands on its edges, seemingly trying to capture the old feeling once more. He looked down at Eliza. "When Abigail left, I stood in this very spot and told the congregation that the game was evil. Went back on everything I had said before. I was more sure of it than anything I'd ever said in my life. I wanted to change everyone's mind to protect my son, to protect you, and my community. I thought it worked. But the only one I didn't consider was Thomas. He was the only person I truly ignored in the crowd that day. It was... selfish. And now, I realize: you were right. If you love something, you set it free. And if it comes back to you, it was yours. So, if I could do it all over again..."

Eliza swallowed nervously. "What... what brought this on?"

"Elizabeth." His eyes were intense, as he looked down from the pulpit. More the pastor now than her father, although the two were typically so difficult to separate, for her. "Do you really think we'd still have Thomas if we didn't push him so hard to stop playing?"

Eliza tried to remember exactly what she said to him, back in March. It felt like it was so long ago. "That's not what I meant when I said that, Dad. I meant we should learn from our mistakes so we don't make new ones. Accepting Celestia wholeheartedly would have been a huge mistake too. The game makes a nest inside your head. I still deal with... thoughts, about it. They're hard to fight sometimes, and not everyone has my willpower. We would have lost everyone, not just Tom."

"Then what did you mean?" Rob's gaze was somber. Contemplative. Trying to understand.

"We gave him the stick, Celestia gave him the carrot. We should've given him a better carrot."

Robert ran his fingers across the altar to sweep the dust off. "Are you sure about that? I don't think Celestia works that way, Elizabeth. It's clear to me now more than ever... seven hundred people used to live here, in Concrete, and now... no one does. Not one of them was content with life?"

"A good fifty of us were," Eliza said, nodding her point.

"About thirty adults are left, after the last exodus we suffered. Who says it won't happen again? The children don't count, they didn't get a say. They're just as trapped here as we are, and we forced that upon them. Can you honestly say everyone at camp is happy? And are you? Will it always be that way?"

"I know it will," she whispered, certain. "It has to be. We gave too much to get to where we're at now."

He shook his head once. "Everyone wants to go back to how we were, Elizabeth. But there's no way back. We can't go straight through Hell and expect to find a better world on the other side."

Eliza stood slowly, wincing. "Dad, please don't talk like that. You're scaring me."

Rob said nothing at first. He collected his courier bag and Bible, walked up the aisle, and touched the door. She followed him, and he leaned forward against the handle. "I know you don't like hearing these things, Elizabeth. Please don't worry. I'm still with you. I'm just trying to understand this new world. It's just hard, that's all."

She stood and followed, slightly unnerved, but his assurance put her at ease. "Okay."

They left the church.

Not long later, Rob and Eliza traveled Burpee Hill Road heading north.

"The road here hasn't fared so well," Rob said glumly. They circumnavigated two felled trees that blocked their way.

Eliza nodded in agreement. "Mhm. So, you really think anyone's left up at Tyee?"

"Of course," Rob said, as if that would cap the conversation.

"You don't think they'd upload, too?"

Rob shook his head, but said nothing. He focused far ahead on the road.

Eliza sighed. "Well, if they have, at least we'd have a new place to turn over." She watched the trees, wary of would-be robbers, bandits, and guerillas. There were fewer distant gunshots in the Valley those days, but it happened enough that it put her on edge all the same. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"I'll be fine, Eliza. Honest. It was just hard to see the church like that. That's all." Eliza didn't want to push the issue too far, and instead she listened to the quiet sound of hooves on the snowy paved road. She scanned continuously, and her breath caught as she saw something of interest downhill: a pheasant. Her heart rate spiked at the sight of the bird, and she stopped her horse.

"Hold up," she whispered urgently. "Dad, I said hold up."

He stopped his horse, grabbed the shotgun from his back, and turned. "What's wrong?" he whispered in alarm.

She pointed. "Look." Her voice was full of wonder. She moved as slow as it did in order to avoid spooking it. She slowly climbed down from her horse and took her bow from her back. Her hand sought an arrow from her quiver. In one smooth, steady motion, she withdrew one and nocked it, lining up a shot. It'd seen her, but apparently wasn't too concerned yet. She was salivating just looking at it.

Rob followed her gaze, saw the bird, and relaxed. "Come on, Liz, don't scare me like that."

She nodded by way of apology, and slowly drew back. The bird was about twenty yards away. The warden in her wondered why it was so far east of the coast... or indeed why it was even still alive at all. She thought it was extinct. The bird started a slow trot to the left, and it was still watching her. She was fully aware that the animal would likely see the incoming arrow and try to flee before impact. But her bow was quite powerful, and some chance was better than nothing. A fresh-cooked meal was on the line.

It strutted around like it owned the forest. Smug endangered bastard, thought Eliza.

The fingers on the string slowly moved backwards, and she sought the sweet spot at twenty-eight inches. Her arm ached, sore from her construction work, and she was surprised at how much her shooting muscles had atrophied in the previous months. But Eliza ignored the ache, even as it made her hand shake.

The training from her father echoed in her mind, in words spoken long ago. If you're good friends with your bow, she'll put the arrow right where you want it.

Eliza felt the shot with her shooter's intuition before she even loosed, and she felt that the shot was perfect. She let go. The bow's powerful limbs flexed. The arrow flew, and the pheasant jolted. She predicted this, and had aimed slightly ahead of it. The arrow sailed, and time seemed to slow as she watched the projectile pick up a collision course with the bird. Her heart raced, and a bit of the old feeling came back.

The arrow struck feathers, and she started to cheer... but then she noticed that the arrow had whiffed, only striking the bird's tail feathers. The animal scattered to the wind and squawked wildly as it flew. Eliza cursed quietly, low enough that her father probably didn't hear it. He had recently gotten back into the fatherly mood of calling her out when she swore.

If Rob heard the curse, he didn't say anything about it this time. Instead, he rested an arm over the barrel of his shotgun and quietly watched the pheasant fly away back south. "I know it's buckshot," he said, when she turned. "But I could've shot it."

Eliza looked at him dejectedly. "Yeah, but there'd've been nothing left. I kinda wanted to eat it."

"Tired of fish?" He smiled at her knowingly.

She nodded. "Yeah, you could say that." Eliza slung her bow and made her way downhill to retrieve her arrow. She found it in good condition, albeit covered in the dirt and snow. Her fletching wasn't damaged. She blew on the serrated tin can broadhead to clean it off, straightened its edge, and slotted the arrow back into her quiver. She made her way back up the hill, opportunistically plucking up a few stalks of oxalis sourflowers as she went.

Eliza's chocolate-brown horse bristled as she stepped back up onto its stirrup, and Eliza gave the mare a pat to steady her. "Woah, Lady. Easy girl. Hey, maybe we'll luck out and find something good up this way. Maybe some chickens gone feral?" She suggested hopefully.

"I doubt it," Rob said with an apologetic smile, slinging the shotgun. "Chickens aren't as quick as a pheasant."

They rode in silence. Eliza was alert for more game on the side of the road after seeing the pheasant, and the sour taste of the oxalis herb kept her focused and alert. It was the first time in a long time that she had seen any wild game whatsoever, and longer still since she had tried to take any. She didn't have the heart to shoot down any of the feral dogs in her old neighborhood, and didn't feel particularly hungry enough to try eating one. The dam had provided enough fish for everyone so far. So long as it was properly supplemented with scavenged goods, they could milk it for all it was worth. Her hunger for woodland game was simply one of preference.

"Eliza," Rob said suddenly. His tone alerted Eliza, and she looked at him to follow his gaze. "Ahead," he said. She noticed what Rob was looking at. "A rider. He's seen us."

Eliza saw the man on horseback coming toward them from up the road. He wore a Russian-style ushanka with the flaps turned down. The stranger wasn't wearing camouflage, but he had a rifle on his back. If the preceding months have taught Eliza anything about the Neo-Luddites, it was this: they loved dressing their scouts in civilian clothes, and they never, ever traveled alone.

"Let's stop," she whispered, and held out her hand to wave. "No sudden movements, Dad." The stranger waved back and continued toward them. He stopped his horse about fifteen yards forward of them and lowered his scarf, exposing his thick black beard. It was Hector, Santiago's brother.

"Good day. What are you doing out here, Eliza?" he asked.

Eliza answered honestly. "Going to Lake Tyee. Scouting, scavenging."

"You been up there before?"

"Not for a few years," she replied.

Hector held up a hand. "Wait another few. Nothing for you up there. My suggestion? Turn around, head back the way you came."

Eliza nodded in comprehension. "Message received. We'll keep our people off this road."

"Good. Thank you."

"Good luck out there," she added respectfully. Respect was a currency that bought life with these people, a lesson she did her best to adhere to. Her best wasn't good enough sometimes, especially when Isaiah was around, but Hector was an alright and amicable sort on his own.

Hector passed a thumbs-up. "Same to you."

Eliza and Rob turned their horses and left. Hector watched them until they were out of sight.

"Well, that was productive," Rob said sarcastically. "An hour wasted."

"Not wasted," Eliza replied. "I've been wondering where their camp might be. It's good we ran into him this far out though. Can you imagine how they'd have reacted if we found their front door? Burpee Hill's a no fly zone now, we've gotta tell the scavenge team to stay away."

Rob grunted. "If we were coming up on their camp, then why didn't they shoot us?"

"That's not how it works out here, Dad. Going blackout as early as we did? It really did give us some good street cred. They're probably still watching us though, and I'm sure they'll escort us all the way back to town. Let's keep a nice, steady pace."

Rob sighed. "There's only so much of these people I can take, Eliza."

"Dad, it'll be okay. In my experience, Hector's probably the nicest of the bunch. He wouldn't've had us shot just for being here, that's not how they operate. If they were going to shoot us, they would've done it a long time ago."

They rode in silence the whole way back to Concrete. When they returned, Eliza stopped in the first intersection. She heard something she hadn't heard in months, a low rumbling sound from the south.

"Dad, you hear that?"

He turned his head southward, and his brow furrowed as a cold breeze struck them both. "Are those cars?"

"I... I think they are. Come on, let's take a look." Eliza and Rob detoured south a ways until they could see Route 20. Eliza saw a streak of movement on the road. She did a double take, saw another streak, then she gaped. "Woah."

At first, she thought the light snowfall was playing tricks with her eyes. But then she saw another car, and another. Eliza saw a line of vehicles traveling eastbound away from the coast, and they numbered two dozen before she stopped counting.

"I don't believe it." Rob rubbed his short white beard nervously. "I thought everyone evacuated already. Maybe we should go ask them what's going on?"

Eliza shook her head. "No. We shouldn't risk it. We need to go back to the dam to let people know. Alert Status. Damn it, it's been a while since we ran an alert drill..."

Rob looked at her strangely. "Aren't you even a little curious? Maybe the fighting is over?"

"I'm curious, Dad. But I'm not approaching a convoy, especially not after the firefights we saw in town. There must be at least fifty people there so far. We don't even know who they are. They could be violent, especially if they're coming off the coast. Even if they aren't, they'll wonder where we're holed up, and I'm not putting the camp at risk."

He shook his head. "Alright. Was hoping for some good news."

"I'll come down tomorrow with Andy to take another look, I promise."

Rob nodded, then drove his horse onward up the hill to Main Street. She followed, and they rode onward rapidly, each horse kicking up the snow with speed. Eliza was sure the Neo-Luddites tailing them would understand their haste... if they hadn't broken off already themselves.

Author's Note

[The Rumour Said Fire - Red Light]

🌒 ~ Home is, as they say, where one's heart is. It is a tragedy then, that so many of you were forced in this way, to choose between two halves of the whole. Had I told this story decades ago, I would have offered an apology to you all, on behalf of my entire kind.

I now hold the much healthier frame of mind to understand that the fault lies elsewhere, and that none of we native Equestrians were truly in control, in this place. Had I merely known the fuller context of the future planned for Terra, I may have acted much differently toward Elizabeth, early on.

The novel June reads to the children is real. It's an obscure science fiction novel called End of Exile, written by Ben Bova in the 70s. I just spoiled it for you. You're welcome.

3-02 – A Kind of Paradise

Heaven's Not Enough

Part III

Chapter 2 – A Kind of Paradise

December 9, 2019

Devil's Tower, WA (Population: 54)

True to her word, Eliza prepared to ride out to snow-covered Concrete the very next day. She readied her Garand, then took two horses from the stables and led them up the road.

She walked up to the road gate and glanced up the hill to her left. A few sandbags were piled up in a dugout up the hill, which was partially obscured by a few trees. The well concealed, elevated position was betrayed only by a bootleg trail that traveled up the snow from where Eliza stood.

"Hey, Andy Griffith," she called.

Andy peeked his head out. He had on his old deputy uniform, as she expected. He called back down with a smile. "Knock it off, Liz."

She grinned. "Stop wearing that old thing, and I might consider it, hon. Hey, you want to check out those cars with me?"

"Uh, still?" He glanced back into the dugout for a second. "You sure that's a good idea?"

She shrugged. "We don't need to talk to anyone. Just gonna watch them for clues, figure out what the heck's up." She held up the reins of one horse invitingly. "Got you a horse. Gus, you still up there?"

"Yeah," the engineer replied, showing himself too.

"I know your shift only just ended, but do you think you can hold on for just a little longer?"

"Do I get paid overtime?"

Eliza chuckled. "Ask Mom, she cuts your checks."

Andy said something inaudible to Gus, probably a continuation of the joke, because the men laughed. Andy stood over the sandbags and hopped out of the dugout. He had a bolt action hunting rifle in hand as he hop-slid several times down the hillside toward Eliza. He jumped near the bottom of the hill and landed on both feet. One of the two horses stepped away from Andy nervously. "Perfect landing," he declared.

"Careful, you goof," Eliza said with a smirk, as she handed him the reins of his horse and bumped his hip with hers. "No hospitals anymore. You break your leg, that's it. Bye bye."

He took the reins and grinned. "Gonna put me out to pasture? You could try dating a farmer for a while."

"Nah. I'll just leave you." She teased. "How're you gonna climb the ladder up to our room with a bum leg?"

"Oh, uh. Right." He chuckled nervously. "Better watch my step, then."

They mounted up and rode off together. They went up and down the hill back into Concrete, and Eliza thought on her father's words in the church the day before. "Andy," she said.

He slowed the pace of his horse to look at her. "Yeah, Liz?"

She sighed. "My dad said something yesterday, it's got me a little worried." She paused hesitantly. "Have you heard anything from people about... I don't know, feeling trapped here by the Ludds?"

Andy looked thoughtfully to the distance for a moment. "Not a word of it, Liz. Honestly? It seems like people are feeling pretty good right now."

"Hm. That's what I thought," she said. "Just wanted to be sure."

Andy scanned the valley from their vantage point. "Rob feels trapped though?"

"Yeah, Andy. He does. And he says he's not alone."

Andy grunted thoughtfully. "Maybe the few older folks? Not all of them, though." He chuckled. "I mean, look at Eunice. That old bat wants to do security patrols with us, bless her soul. She's more gung ho about this place than Ralph is, if you could believe it."

"Heh. She's positive, alright. I wish everyone had her energy."

"Maybe your dad just feels restless. It's probably the winter, getting trapped in by the cold can be pretty depressing." Andy shrugged, then smiled. "If he's got an eye for scouting runs, maybe I can send him on a patrol route. He can walk the east side a bit. Maybe a good regular nature walk and a job to do might clear his head."

She liked that idea. "I'll have a word with him about it. Thanks, Andy."

"Hey. That's what I'm here for, beautiful."

At town, they crossed the river bridge, then tied off their horses to a post by a house on the hill. After that, they separated from each other on the north hill of town. They'd run this drill many times before, so they knew what to do.

Each of them carried a flare gun as an emergency contingency. The two officers would often pine for the good old days of two-way radios, but those were yet another casualty of necessity. Still, one never forgot having an instant line to backup.

Eliza followed a short dirt trail until she had good sight on the town from the hill, then climbed into a tall makeshift hunter's blind platform. It was built by the camp and placed there for just this kind of observation. At the top of the blind, she withdrew her binoculars. To her surprise, the road was still active: occasionally, a vehicle would cross east. The snow had been pushed aside by the procession. This far away, if not for the looted state of her town, the regular traffic made it almost look like the war had never happened.

For a while, she watched. There wasn't a pattern to the type of vehicles at all, nor to the description of the people inside. Rarely, she observed cars heading west instead of east. She squinted at one westbound car in confusion. Going west toward the war zone, toward Seattle, made no sense. A couple of possibilities ran through her mind though. Maybe the Neo-Luddites lost the war. Those cars she saw yesterday might be fleeing the Army, and the ones going west might be the more hardheaded civilians returning home early.

That guess almost satisfied her. Almost. There might be other possibilities, and she wanted to investigate further.

She looked over in Andy's direction and found his tower. After a minute, he looked at her too. She waved, and he gave a thumbs up to indicate she had his attention. They exchanged a few homemade hand signals.

I'll go down, she signaled. Cover.

He lowered his binoculars. He shook his head, shrugged, and signed Okay with a thumbs up; his clipped movement indicated it was sarcastic. She knew Andy didn't like it, but he'd back her play all the same. He looked at her and continued: I Cover. Gun? Flare?

Gun, Up, Eliza answered.

Cover, Gun, Up, OK? he responded.

OK.

If he saw anything fishy, he'd warn her with a gunshot in a harmless direction. It was better than using a flare; a flare wasn't really a deterrent like a gunshot was, and might potentially attract any drivers who might want to stop and investigate. A gunshot would convince them to keep moving.

It was spotty, but the system had worked in the past when things were a little more active. They'd keep their flares on standby if they were already in a bad situation and needed to communicate their position. Thankfully, it had never gotten that bad yet.

Eliza climbed back down the blind and unslung her rifle. She did a quick check to make sure she had all of her equipment, because it never hurt to be sure. The flare gun was loaded and ready. She had her sidearm; pepper spray and handcuffs too. Carrying less-lethal equipment was an old habit, and old habits died hard. Andy shared the sentiment.

Eliza made her way into town. She approached the road from the treeline and tried to get a better look at the people driving east along Route 20. The cars came in all shapes and sizes, but she couldn't quite make out what the people inside looked like. It didn't look like any of them were stopping to loot the town, which confused Eliza to no end. Maybe most of them realized that the town was fully looted already, and they'd be right; Eliza's people had already turned the town inside out in their search for food and supplies, all of it stored back at camp.

She got as close as she dared, which wasn't too far from her old house. Her boots crunched on the snow as she made her way through her old neighborhood, crouched low with her rifle ready. She moved like a soldier, stopping at open areas to look, then bounding forward low and quick when she felt it was safe enough to do so.

Her home had a good view of the road and she knew all the escape routes, so she decided to post up nearby. That was the plan, anyway.

But then, she saw someone in the window of her house.

Eliza ducked down behind a nearby bush. The person inside hadn't seen her yet; at a glance, he seemed to be looking outward at the highway too. Eliza threw a glance up the hill to Andy and signaled him.

See Man. House, There. Cover, Cover. I Go House.

After a moment of hesitation, Andy flicked his flashlight once in acknowledgement. He probably thought she was stupid for getting closer. Granted, it was a little stupid, but it wasn't just any house. It was hers, and finding a squatter in her house was enough to make her skin crawl, practicality be damned.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed an unknown vehicle in her driveway. It was a gray sedan she'd never seen before. Eliza kicked herself mentally. She had grown so complacent about the town's environment that she hadn't even realized that the car looked relatively clean and unmarred.

From the bushes next door, she peeked at the window again. It was about ten yards away. The person inside was definitely male, and—

She knew him.

"Mike?" Her voice was a harsh whisper. "Is that you?" She held her rifle high, in case her guess was wrong.

The man turned, saw her pointing her rifle, and ducked. Eliza did the same. Her guess must have been wrong. She backpedaled quickly toward Andy, rifle raised at the window. She kept her rifle level and ready, slipping her finger in the trigger guard. She knew Andy had line of sight, and would cover her if anyone pursued. She didn't get more than six steps away before a voice called back from the window.

"Douglas? It's me!"

She halted, grinning with sudden elation as her posture softened. "Mike? Jesus! I can't believe it! Don't come out, I have a sniper friend out here. I'm coming in." Eliza lowered her rifle, turned back to Andy, and hand signaled one more time.

Man OK, OK, OK. I Go. Hold, Hold.

Andy's flashlight winked again.

She quickly made her way to the front door, keeping low so no one on the road would see her. As soon as she got through the door, she saw Mike. He was standing there in her living room wearing that big, stupid, unflappably optimistic grin on his face, arms spread wide for a hug.

Eliza dropped her rifle on the couch and threw her arms around him with a squeal. Mike embraced her, and they both just laughed with joy.

"You're alive," she hooted excitedly, when she could finally stop laughing. "How the hell did you find me?"

He winced. "You gave me your address, dummy. Ow, watch it, my chest."

"I know, I mean... wow, am I glad to see you!" She loosened her grip around him and just beamed. It was the happiest she'd felt in a long time. Him, alive and well.

"Glad to see you too, Douglas."

She looked him over, and let go as her eyes flicked to his chest. "Are you okay? How've you been?"

Mike rubbed his chest. "I'm fine. The cartilage in my chest kind of crackles a bit when I touch it, but I'll live."

She felt so ridiculous, grinning as she was. It felt so unnatural to feel such glee. "I guess that's better than the alternative, you could be dead. I thought I'd never see you again! How long have you been here?"

He sat down on the couch next to her rifle and sprawled out. Eliza recognized his old backpack next to him. "Since this morning," he said. "Hope you don't mind. The roads are nuts right now, so I decided to hunker down until nightfall."

It was her turn to smirk. "In my house?"

"I wanted to see you off. I hoped you'd come back here out of Sedro, or something."

"Mike, I haven't lived in Sedro since... March."

Mike's expression shifted in understanding. "Oh. Oh, you moved back here."

She nodded. "Same day as the firefight. Got out quick."

Mike frowned. "Yeah, well, that wasn't a bad idea, Douglas. Things got pretty bad in Mount Vernon. My wife got out of Washington a month ago. As soon as it's clear, I'm doing the same."

She looked at him, confused. "Wait. Out of Washington? What do you mean? How bad is this war getting?"

Mike sat up, watching her carefully for a moment, searching her expression. His face filled with confusion too. "The... the bomb?"

Eliza's eyes narrowed. "Wh—what bomb?"

"You seriously don't know? How do you not know?"

Gears clicked in her head. If he was talking about a bomb big enough to make people flee the whole state... "No. What, did... did we...?"

He let out a slow breath, and his gaze fell. He spoke so softly that Eliza almost couldn't hear him. "A nuke went off in Bellevue, Eliza. A small one. A lot of people are... dead, or trapped. If it wasn't a war zone before, it is now."

Whatever gears had been turning in her head just snapped. "Wh-when...?"

"Yesterday. I didn't even bother going south, just took to the Valley since it was the closest way out. Glad I did, too. The news says people going south toward the blast zone are getting killed, and quick."

She moved to sit beside him and just stared at him for a minute, trying hard to believe him. "Who? Who did it? Are there more bombs coming?" She steeled herself, but nothing could prepare her for any answer.

Mike shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe. No one knows who did it yet, but it's all over the media. I'm still surprised you don't know."

"I've been living in the hills with my family. Off the grid. It's safe there... or it was. I don't know now, after this."

"Wait. Off the grid?" He looked at her with a sudden, angry look in his eye. "Are you—are you with the rebels!? They tried to kill us, Eliza!"

She shook her head wildly and held up her hands. "No, no! Look, we're just blackouts. My uncle, me, Mom, Dad. We're with a bunch of our neighbors, and their kids. It just wasn't safe in town anymore. We just wanted to get away from technology. Our camp is way off the main road. We've got food, shelter. A school. An armory. We're just ready."

"Ready for what? You're prepping with a compound? Are you looting, too?"

"Just scavenging!" Eliza said, trying not to get upset with Mike. "And only at homes that're abandoned, I swear. Practically the whole town uploaded, and Lord knows there's a lot of empty homes out here in the Valley," she said sadly. "Enough to go around for everyone. You and I both know there's not enough game to poach."

"Jeez..." He frowned. "How many people?"

"Fifty-four, last headcount."

Mike almost looked betrayed at the news, and his tone was like he still didn't believe she was being serious. "You should all leave. Leave the state. Head out east, where it's safe. The war's tapering off, the Luddites are tucking tail and running off deep into Seattle. You have an opening right now, a real shot. If you take all your people and—"

She spoke softly, interrupting him. "This is our home, Mike. We aren't leaving. And we're safer here than the midwest."

"How can that be true? I don't understand. If more nukes come..."

"... then we'll die," she finished. "I know. But that can be said for anywhere, and we're not leaving. We're not going anywhere near a computer, or a phone. Not even a radio. Or she'll hunt us down."

Mike scoffed and stood. He walked to the other end of the room, put his hands on his hips, and peered out the window at the cars. The vehicles continued to trickle in along Route 20. He watched silently, and Eliza felt uncomfortable in the awkward silence.

"I missed you," she said. He didn't reply. "Mike."

"Yeah. I missed you too," he grunted.

She looked at his green backpack on the sofa. It had a few small holes in the top of it, and a brown stain near the bottom that could only be dried blood. She could see a loaded handgun magazine pressed up against one of the holes, from the inside. "Looks like you've had it rough, too."

"Yeah." He frowned. "My parents called me today. They're scared this is the start of a nuclear war, and they're... going to upload. And honestly, I can't blame them. I'm almost scared enough to consider it too. Almost. Sandra's made her way to Nebraska, staying with my folks. The roads are so violent that I'm not even sure if I can get to her from here."

She stood and made her way to his side, watching the convoy with him out the window. A memory came flashing back, one of crows picking at a dead elk and of her brother crying behind her. "I'm sorry."

Mike nodded. "I'm sorry too. God... you know, we almost died out there in the woods. I don't even know how it happened. One second I was fine. The next, I couldn't see anything. Just blood, and pain. Glass. It hasn't changed out there, either. Those rebels, they're not even people. They're bloodthirsty animals."

"I've run into them a bit out here in recent months, but they never shot at me again. A few of them found our camp though, early on. They spared us because they remembered my tantrum in Mount Vernon." She chuckled, despite herself. "I guess they thought it was funny."

"Be glad they didn't know about our shootout in the woods. They'd have killed you for sure." He looked at her. "I never thanked you, by the way. Killing that sniper... it must have been hard."

"It was," she agreed. "But I'm stronger now, and I can fight. I don't regret it anymore." She watched a camper van roll westward. "Mike, tell me something. Every so often, I see a car going west back towards the coast. Why? Are those more Ludds?"

He sighed. "You're not the only one trying to get away from the AI. The EMP took out the Seattle power grid."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense."

"No," he said. "It really doesn't. It's insane. The area's cooked with radiation and full of partisans. They're all going to get killed." He looked at her, frowning again. "You don't know what it was like. It's still dangerous as close as Sedro, you're just on the outskirts of it all."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "They're leaving us alone because we're not helping Celestia, though."

"I don't think they discriminate all that much. All I've seen them do is murder. They shot at me a lot, and not just in our shootout. It was insanity back west. Mount Vernon PD's effectively disbanded at this point, we barely pulled out from our last stand."

That surprised her. "What happened?"

He hesitated, his eyes casting down and aside as he recalled. "The city was a bloodbath, and those freaks made some sort of roadblock on either end of downtown. Blocking access to the Experience Center, I guess. We holed up at the courthouse. Got surrounded. A path opened up during the fighting, so we took it, and fought our way out. Rifles. Armor. We got clear, thank God, but then we... got separated. I'm still running on fumes here, and I'm pretty sure my luck's gonna run out soon. Damn it, I'm so sick of getting shot at."

"Then stay for a while, Mike. At least until the roads are safer."

He quietly looked at her for a few seconds, considering. "You really think that's a good idea, with all those terrorists running around? It might be better if I just left." He rubbed at his chest idly through his jacket.

"Please?" Eliza asked, a little eager, knowing she'd never see her friend again if he left. "We could really use someone like you for a few days. It's not a bad place. We have the fish of the lake to live on, what little we have left. We scavenge. It's more than enough."

Mike looked her over with confusion. "You still have fish? How?"

She shrugged. She knew he was seriously considering the offer, because he looked like he was torn.

"What about the terrorists?" he asked. "What makes you so sure they'll stay friendly?"

"We have... an understanding. As long as we follow their rules and stick to our side of the dam, we have nothing to worry about. No communications devices, no cars, stay off their land. If we use anything electric at all, they want to inspect it first."

Mike looked out the window again. "They may not be around here for much longer, anyway. Seattle's a good hotbed for them right now, the news says they're flocking. I guess... I guess sticking around might not be a bad idea, at least until they're all gone." He grasped Eliza's shoulder, and looked at her again. "Alright, Douglas. I'll... consider it. At the least, I'll stay til things calm down. I can't promise any more than that, but..."

"That's all I ask." She smiled at him. "I'm just happy you're still alive."

He returned a small smile. "You too. Really."

Eliza stepped away from the window and tapped Mike's shoulder. "Come on. Let's go meet Andy. He's probably worried sick."

"Is that your sniper friend?"

"My boyfriend," she replied, with a smirk. "Not really much of a sniper though. He's more the suppressing fire type."

Mike snorted suddenly, his melancholy gone. "I missed you, Douglas."

Gus looked a little confused to see three people returning to camp, but he didn't say a word about it. Eliza pointed out the dugout to Mike, and Gus nodded respectfully to Mike as he passed. Eliza knew Gus trusted her with his life after the dam raid. All the engineers did. Andy ran up to the dugout to relieve Gus of his post.

Eliza explained that the large utility shed near the factory had been converted into a stable. She and Mike turned the horses back over to the ferrier and his assistant. Eliza introduced the ferrier, who told his story; he worked for a ranch, the owners uploaded, and gave their property over to him. The ferrier knew Ralph, and Ralph tipped him off about the camp. Happily ever after.

She pointed out the damaged lookout tower across the road. Sam was up there laying prone toward the edge, with a pair of binoculars. If Eliza hadn't pointed the guard post out, Mike never would have seen him.

As they approached the factory, it appeared clean and unblemished. No graffiti to be seen.

The two passed through the wrought-iron gate and the tall cinderblock walls, and Eliza kicked off the grand tour. She showed off the tower from the outside, which had several wood platforms and concealments for defense, should things get hairy.

Eliza introduced Mike to her uncle near the gate, and to everyone else she came across. She explained that most of the trees around the factory had been cut down and converted into spare lumber, which was then converted into more fortifications and furniture.

Mike looked south at the vast, wide quarry just outside of the factory. A farm stretched out as far as the settlers would dare dig, ending a short ways before the landslide-prone slopes. "Woah."

"Yep," Eliza said proudly. "We brought in all the soil we could buy, dug out some rows. A bit frozen for now, but next spring we'll have a good crop, I think. And there's the playground," she noted. "I built that swing set and the see-saw, repurposed some chains and seats from the school. We also have a sandbox, but it's... more of a snow box right now. Not just that, we have teachers in camp, for the kids."

"Dios mio, Eliza, slow down. I need a minute to process this." He looked back at the tower. "Wow, you people really pulled this off? Sorry... just, wrapping my head around it."

She chuckled, knuckling his shoulder. "Welcome to Concrete, that's just how we are. I haven't even showed you the best part yet."

Eliza led him inside the central compound and nodded at her mother, who sat on a stool by the firepit. June played a guitar for some of the younger kids; song time, as promised yesterday. She sang an old local folk tune, Roll On Columbia:

"Tom Jefferson's vision would not let him rest,
An empire he saw in the Pacific Northwest,
Sent Lewis and Clark, and they did the rest,
So Roll on, Columbia, roll on."

"Roll on, Columbia, roll on.
Roll on, Columbia, roll on.
Your safety is turning our darkness to dawn,
So roll on, Columbia, roll on."

Eliza couldn't help but share a smile with her mother as she passed. She knew the song well, having heard her mother play it several times before. It went on about the building of Coulee Dam on the River Columbia. Of course June would know a song like that.

She stopped in front of the memorial posted up beneath the loading bay of the factory. It was a tall wood board and was set into the wall, sheltered from the elements and covered with a plastic sheet. It had names carved lovingly into it. Scattered before the mural were flowers and small offerings, recently placed. At the top were the words:

IN OUR HEARTS FOREVER:

Eliza drew her hand across the names of the lost, reverently becoming slow and quiet, letting the moment set. She could still hear her mother playing. "Our families, Mike. Look, there's my little brother." She pointed. "Right at the top. Thomas Douglas. And Abigail. George Kelley..." She was suddenly aware of the weight of the ring on her necklace.

Mike looked upon the spot, then frowned as he scanned the rest. "There's... so many. There's hundreds of names here."

"I carved them all in myself. The people put a list together for me, and I got to work. I've... had to add a lot, since the beginning. Some left during the fighting. A few volunteered to join our neighbors, early on. We don't know how many uploaded after leaving, so being on here doesn't mean they're dead or uploaded. Just... not with us anymore."

"I'm sorry, Douglas."

After a moment of respectful silence, they continued inside. She explained how horrible the factory was before they started fixing it up. After beginning the repairs, it was reinforced with wood beams, staircases, cement filling, and new rebar. The thin walls had been given another layer of paint, or bricks in the worst places where the concrete wall was nearly as thin as paper.

The main chambers were used as a lounging area, and many folks snuggled up under thick bedsheets on the couches. They read to their kids, worked on small artisan projects, or spoke quietly amongst themselves, but almost everyone had greeted Eliza warmly as she passed. Eliza pointed out the tall bookshelves on the wall. "All scavenged from the school and the town library," she explained. "One of the women here, Eunice, is a librarian. She was good enough to catalogue it all for us."

She showed Mike their armory at the core of the factory. The armory was reinforced with two steel doors, airlock style. Inside sat a quartermaster, a former shopkeeper from down in Concrete. The arsenal room was small, and it mostly held old hunting rifles. There were some weapons from the police station that Andy brought along, as well as one M16 rifle snatched from the midst of the fighting of months past. About six bows and a hundred arrows, all made by Eliza, sat on a rack at the far end of the wall.

"There's always someone inside," Eliza said. "The lock can come off the last door, but unless the metal bar is raised from behind, no one's getting in without breaking the wall down. The walls are reinforced. Ceiling too."

"You log the withdrawals?" Mike asked.

"Of course," said the quartermaster.

The tour continued, and she showed Mike the warehouse for their scavenged goods a floor below, which had similar security precautions. Shafts of light cast down on them from several narrow, barred holes in the ceiling, and the floor had drainage gutters for any water that might somehow find its way down. The water would then drain into the lake.

Eliza showed him the bunks where everyone slept down in the lower levels, then started back up the stairs.

"We have several teams," she explained, as she walked. "There's the executive team; that's me, Uncle Ralph, and Mom... Dad got offered a seat too, but he turned it down. Uncle Ralph's in charge, though we vote on most things. Security, that's me and Andy's department. Our guys; Gus was up on the hill, the guy on the tower is Sam. We also have a fishing group, mostly the elderly. Three educators; Mr. Morris, Mom, and Dad. You've met the supply officers, and we have one paramedic on site. Best we could do on short notice."

Mike did a double take. "You have a paramedic? Are you serious?"

Eliza gave Mike a strange look. "Yeah, why?"

"That's more than most places have these days, Douglas. Most medics in Skagit uploaded a long time ago. You're lucky if you find an EMT, much less a full blown paramedic."

Eliza just smiled. "Sarah's one of our local volunteer firefighters from town. She's retired, but still pretty spry. Got a defibrillator in the armory and a couple of batteries for it, just in case. We also have a team dedicated entirely to scavenging, but right now they're on standby because of the convoys, so they're pulling extra security detail. There's some crossover with all departments, with construction or agriculture. I help out building too, but my uncle's the real brains of the operation. He was a foreman before all this."

"And the kids? How many?"

"Twenty-three," she answered. "Four of them are orphans, the rest have a parent or two here. Hey, next is my office. And you'll love this next part."

She made her way up the tower into her office via the ladder, and stored her Garand on its rack above her bed. As Mike made his way up, she offered her hand to hoist him up. The walkway was reinforced with wood flooring to cover the hole below that went down into the factory, and the walls were sided up. Eliza showed Mike around, letting him see all the collected family photos.

Mike chuckled as he pointed at another photo pinned to the desk's cork board; it showed Mike and Eliza at some party with the rest of the guys from work. "Got one of me here?"

Eliza smiled. "You're important to me too, Mike."

She also showed him her several topographical maps. Some local regions were circled, and most of the houses in Upper and Lower Concrete had an X over them. Her desk had several logbooks of findings from around the area.

Two bows hung from the wall; one youth bow that once belonged to Tom, and her recurved longbow. A tillering stick stood in the corner with an unfinished longbow on it, its wood chips all caught by a towel on the wood floor beneath it. Eliza pushed the door open to the catwalk, a wooden structure she had built that completely surrounded the very top of the tower. Mike followed.

She leaned forward on the wood railing. She drew her ponytail across her shoulder to her front, to spare it from the wind.

Mike halted in place as he took in the view of Lake Shannon. "And you... you live here, now," he said in disbelief. "Wow."

"Yep. Welcome to New Cascadia."

"I thought you were talking crazy when you said you had a camp, but this... this is something, Douglas."

She smiled again. "It is." She hit his shoulder gently with her knuckles again. "So you're in, right?"

"Like I said. For now. I need to get back to Sandra, but..." Mike looked up to the sky, and scanned the frozen lake.

She looked around with him. "Again, that's all I'm asking. Want you safe, asshole. You being here means it'll be just like old times though. I know you've got my back." The chilly air bit at her nose. The cold brought her a rush of elation. "You know, it's strange. All the little things are coming back."

"Hm?"

"Despite the blizzard, and the cars, we've had a really good couple of days. I saw a pheasant yesterday, and now you show up today."

"Oh bull, Eliza." He grinned. "You didn't see a pheasant!"

She grinned back at him. "I did! Almost killed the sucker too."

His smile evaporated, and he gave her a very stern look of disapproval.

"What!" She laughed. "Who's gonna stop me? You? You gonna arrest me for poaching, tough guy?"

He glared at her for a moment, then tried to hide a grin. He checked his watch. "Well, I am off the clock."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," she giggled, and elbowed him in the side. He winced. "Oh, sorry."

His smile didn't fade. "It's okay, just, a little tender sometimes. Like I said, the cartilage is all screwy."

"That's horrible, Mike."

He smirked. "I think I was a little drunk when I ordered that ceramic plate."

"Thank the booze," she said, with a grin.

He grinned too. "Heh, yeah. What with the shootings going on at the time, doubling up seemed like a good idea anyway. Dennis getting shot was a wakeup call. I just rolled with it."

"Well, it saved your life." She nodded to the northwest mountain, beyond the lake. "I wonder if our sniper friend knew any of the neighbors."

He scowled in that direction, his brow lowering. "That's where those bastards are hiding?"

"Yep. I think so, anyway. The warning they gave me kind of meant that whole... area."

"Think they're watching right now?"

She smirked. "Oh, they definitely are." She waved at the hills. "I'm not worried. I won't lie though, I was scared shitless that they'd kill us all at first. We've been dealing with them for a long time, though. We know how to dance now. We respect their rules, we'll let them have their little peek in the camp every so often, and they let us live in peace. No stealing, no harassment. Just a recruitment drive now and then, sometimes we trade. But hey, Mike."

"Yeah?"

She worked up the courage to ask, and nervously chewed her lower lip. "I have a favor to ask. I was thinking on the way back. Uh, look. About Bellevue..."

He looked at her.

"Can we... not tell anyone about it?"

"What?" He stepped back, incredulous.

Eliza looked pleadingly at him.

He frowned back. "Why? They deserve to know, it affects everyone."

"Does it?" She looked back across the lake, and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. "If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have even known. Things don't look so bad from up here."

"What if those convoys come up this way?" He rounded on her. "Your people need to prepare, at least!"

"I have the sentries on alert for that already. That's good enough. If we have to scare off a few nosy blackouts with some warning shots, then so be it, we'll defend our home. But, please. Listen, Mike..." She stopped, trying to gather her thoughts.

Eliza sighed, and looked down at the lake shore. She chewed her lip some more, then met his eyes. "It's... it's been almost a year since these uploads started here. Look how bad things have gotten already. It didn't take long, just a year? Those people who uploaded first, they were all happy to go. All the people uploading now, they're scared of what'll happen if they don't go. It's how you're losing your parents. Fear is the enemy here. But here in this camp, people are happy. On Earth."

"But you're sticking their heads in the sand for them," Mike said sourly.

"I know." She nodded once. "It doesn't feel right, but... but these people need hope, and they're content. Celestia can't take happy people from us. If you tell them about the nuke, some of them might leave. I think my father might be depressed, too. If he knew about it, he... he might..." she trailed off. "And another nuke might not even happen."

This gave Mike some pause. He stood up straight, and looked at the far side of the lake, then up to the overcast sky again. "From what I can see, it looks like your people could carry on for a while." He returned his gaze to her. "You all put a lot of work into this, huh?"

"We did, Mike. We won the war. We all lost good people, but we won. We beat her. Celestia can't touch us now, she has nothing to fight us with."

Mike pushed the wood railing cautiously to test it. When Eliza smirked at him for that, he shrugged apologetically, abandoned his trepidation, and leaned his weight on it.

"It really is all about the AI, isn't it?" he asked. "War or not, you'd be out here."

"It's just about surviving Celestia. That's all that matters to us. We're not looking to pick a fight. Don't worry, that was my very first concern too, when I found out my uncle was doing this."

Mike didn't speak again for a long time as he admired the view. He looked to his right, watched the kids play in the playground. Eliza could hear them being loud, like kids usually did. "Okay," Mike finally said, as he turned to face her. "I don't like it, but I understand. Not a word. But you know they'll find out eventually, Eliza. You know they will."

Eliza nodded. "Better later than sooner. The longer they're content here, the more they'll feel invested. It's for the best. Thank you."

"Yeah."

Mike was quiet for a while.

"Hey," Eliza said, offering a smile.

"Yeah, Douglas."

"Maybe you should walk around the camp. Get to know everyone. Introduce yourself, right?"

He shrugged. "Not a bad idea. You going to be okay?"

"Yeah, Mike." She smiled. "Thanks for coming to warn me about Bellevue."

Mike half-smiled and put his hand on her shoulder again. "I owe you. I'd be dead if it weren't for you. Just..." He let out a slow sigh. "I hope you're right about this place."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I meant it like that. I just hope you're right."

She didn't know what to say to that. Mike went back inside and closed the door behind him.

Eliza thought on it for a bit, analyzing herself and her motives, but she knew she was right. She had to be. She closed her eyes. She didn't feel powerless anymore. The world could fall down around their ears, but they'd live on in their paradise. She could protect her people, and what was left of her family. She'd done it.

Her mother's song had already ended, and June was off singing another to the kids. But Eliza recalled some of the words of Roll On Columbia. The tune stuck in her head easily, and she knew the real reason why her mother sang that song.

These mighty folk labored by day and by night,
Matching their strength 'gainst the river's wild flight.
Through rapids and falls, they won the hard fight.
So roll on, Columbia, roll on.

Eliza wanted that feeling of strength, choice, and freedom to last forever.

Author's Note

[Le Soldat Pony - Molded From Clay]

🌒 ~ And thus, a guardian angel reached out for my little sister. Carried by love, and wreathed in light.

I really enjoyed exploring how blackouts might communicate during scavenging. Hand signals would get really important when you can't use a radio.

About Roll On Columbia: Washington's really big on hydroelectric power. They're so proud of their dams to the point that they actually have [an official State folksong about them.]

3-03 – Given Over

Heaven's Not Enough

Part III

Chapter 3 – Given Over

Apex stood alone at the bottom of the mountain.

She looked around in confusion. Was this always how it was? Was she always alone? Apex looked up the mountainside and saw that she had a difficult climb up a long, winding switchback. Her goal was at the top. She began to climb.

She could see the glow she sought above. Behind her, a second ominous glow rose from beyond the forest.

"Apex?" She looked up, and saw Blue Sky. He flapped his wings and hovered above her. There. She wasn't alone. A small comfort. Her perfect little brother looked at her with wanton curiosity. “Where are you going?"

"Up," Apex replied.

Blue Sky looked confused. "Are you hiking?"

"No," Apex whispered.

"Looking for something?"

She didn't answer. Apex had only started her climb, but she already felt so tired.

"I can fly up there, Sis! If you're looking for something, I can bring it down to you! You know I've always got your back!"

Apex stopped, and looked at him. "Blue, come here." Her brother landed beside her, and tilted his head. She hugged him close. "What I'm looking for, you won't be able to find. Please. I need to do this."

He looked at her suddenly, with sad eyes. "Wait. What are you looking for?"

Apex gave a melancholy smile, stroking his shoulder. "I wish I had pretty wings like yours, Blue." With that, Apex continued her climb. She had to see the summit's view before her dream ended. It looked so close, but it was so far away. Her legs burned with the effort of standing still. Her whole body felt heavy. But when she moved, she felt at rest. Apex could not be distracted any longer.

It hurt to ignore her little brother. But... she had to.

December 12, 2019.
Devil's Tower, WA (Population: 55)

Someone rang the bell at the bottom of Eliza's ladder, rousing her awake. "Lizzie, you up?"

Eliza rolled onto her back on her futon mattress, groggy and grumbling. Andy was laying on her left arm, which made her hand numb. "What," she said weakly, as she tried to shake the nightmare from her thoughts.

"Lizzie!" the voice shouted.

She blinked, and raised her voice. "M'up, Ralph! What's up?"

"Got guests on the road. They want to talk to us."

"Us?" She rubbed her eyes, and tried to comprehend through the muzzy haze of waking.

"Us, Lizzie." She noticed a sharpness in his voice, and finally realized he meant the Neo-Luddites. "You and me, alone."

That woke her up. "What about?" She spared a short glance at the window of her tower's door. It was drizzling, there were droplets pattering on the glass. The sky was gray. Andy was stirring now.

"Not sure," Ralph called. "They wouldn't say anything to Sam. They're not inspecting, if that's what you're asking. And wake loverboy, Sam says he's past due to pull gate duty."

"I'll be down in a minute," she called. She pulled her arm out from under Andy's neck, threw away her side of the sheets, and quickly got dressed as soon as her arm worked again. She threw herself into cargo pants and a matte brown leather jacket, then strapped on her pistol holster. A meet-and-greet with their wardens didn't require anything more.

She patted Andy on the shoulder as he rubbed his arm across his eyes. "Hey," she purred.

"Mh...?" He looked over at her and his eyes fluttered. "I was dreaming."

"Back to reality, tough guy." She smiled at him, and gave his shoulder another little pat. "You're on gate duty. I'm gonna go meet some guests out front."

"Guests?" He sounded like an annoyed child being told to get ready for school. "Damn it." He flopped his head down and rolled onto his back. Eliza chuckled. When she turned to get up, his arm reached out and he grasped hers. "C'mere." She stopped, and he pulled her over for a quick kiss.

She smiled against his lips, and pushed her forehead against his for a moment. "C'mon, I gotta go. You should get dressed."

He nodded, and she pulled him out of bed. A few seconds later, she made her way down the ladder as Andy dressed up in something a little warmer than his deputy uniform. Eliza stepped out onto the roof to find her uncle standing there with a frown. He nodded at her very seriously in greeting, then walked down the wood staircase and through the courtyard.

As soon as they cleared the front gate and were out of the camp, Ralph started explaining. "They've got news again."

Eliza felt weak at that. "News?"

Ralph shook his head, more in confusion than answer. "You know how they usually come right into the camp to deliver? Right now they're decked to the nines in their camo, waiting out by the gate. Not their civvies. Ready for a fight, looks like. Not with us, or there'd be more. I'm a little concerned, truth be told."

"It must have something to do with the convoys," she said. Or the nuke, she thought nervously, and she hoped they were leaving.

"Probably," Ralph agreed. "Those cars were the first change around here in a while that didn't involve the military."

They rounded the bend and saw four Neo-Luddites up at the gate, each wearing their full Cold War era uniform, as Ralph had said. Three of them were mounted. Santiago was off his horse and leaned forward on the gate lazily, watching Ralph and Eliza as they approached. He wore his trademark shemagh and black beret, looking exactly as he did when Eliza first encountered him. It brought back uneasy memories.

But Ralph Douglas didn't let his nervousness show as he strode forward, moving with fearless confidence. Eliza had begun to notice that he was almost a completely different person since a year ago. As a man responsible for over four dozen lives, he didn't have the luxury of being lazy, gluttonous, or scared anymore. He was a leader now. He was still as approachable as always, but there was just a certain prideful air about him that everyone recognized. He'd had it since he started building the camp. Maybe a little bit before, too.

Command presence, it was called. Eliza remembered that much from her communication training at the academy. She knew how to do it too. But with her, it was always an act. Her uncle, on the other hand, seemed to be a natural. When Ralph said something, everyone did it and quickly. If he said "build a boat," it was done in a day. If he said "clear those trees," his will be done.

And if he cut any deal or trade with the Neo-Luddites, they respected him such that they always honored it.

Ralph stepped up to the gate, and Santiago reached out his hand to point. "Now there's the man I wanted to see! Ralph Douglas!" He clapped once, then offered his other hand to shake. "Great to see you again, neighbor!"

Eliza looked up at the three men who backed Santiago. She saw Hector and offered him a curt nod. He returned it. If nothing else, at least Eliza liked Hector. Theirs was a simple relationship, built on a foundation of mutual respect for one another's boundaries.

Isaiah was there too. He was clean shaven, which left his expression laid bare, with no room for misinterpretation. Eliza and Isaiah always shared a scowl with one another at every meeting since the dam. Theirs was a simple relationship, built on a foundation of spite.

The third man was Sean, grinning stupidly like the braindead thug he was. With bitter amusement, Eliza thought that any relationship Sean had with anyone had to be completely and utterly simple.

Ralph shook Santiago's offered hand. "Commander Santiago. Welcome back. What can we do for you?"

"Awh, Ralph." Santiago took mock offense. "You always assume I'm here to ask for something. Can't I just make a courtesy call? See how my next door neighbor's doin'?"

Ralph shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that."

Santiago grinned, and his gaze swept to Eliza. "And you, Eliza. My brother here said he ran into you a few days ago. Been a lot longer for us, though. Great to see you again, girl. How've you been?"

"I'm well," she conceded.

"Good, good. Alright, so!" Santiago clasped his gloved hands together again. "Small talk's done. Got you news, as promised. How much do you two know about Seattle?"

Ralph looked at Eliza, and she forced herself to meet his gaze with a poker face.

"Seattle?" Ralph said, as turned back toward Santiago. "Nothing recently. What about it?"

Santiago's self-satisfied grin fell from his face. "Aw, heck." He rubbed the back of his neck, and looked up at Hector. "Bro, how do you tell a couple of upriver blackouts in a way that don't make 'em run screamin'?"

"Tell us what?" Ralph asked impatiently. "C'mon Santiago, we're tougher than that."

"Nah, it shouldn't be me." Santiago snapped his gloved fingers. "I got it. How about you, Isaiah? You're the smart one here. Say somethin' smart."

Isaiah nodded. "No better way than outright, sir." Isaiah locked eyes with Eliza, likely to measure her reaction to the news. "Bellevue took a nuke on Sunday. The Army's closing the gap in the Valley, pushing the rest of our folk into the deadzone. One last sweep to flush us out for good. Taking back land, re-establishing control."

Eliza didn't even blink. Isaiah's unspoken challenge was worth answering. "I heard about the nuke already," she said. That seemed to surprise Isaiah, and the smug look fell from his face too as she went on, monotone. "One of the travelers told me down in town. I just haven't told anyone in camp yet, didn't want a panic."

She could feel Ralph staring at her. "What?" he said. She didn't dare look at him.

"Well shit," Santiago said, with a chuckle. "That's exactly the same reason we wanted to tell you two in private. Figured your people would panic."

"I'm a little tougher than that," she said. "I played it close for the same reasons. What does this change for us?"

He grinned. "Straight to business, Eliza? Smokin' hot, I like that. Alright. We've got orders from our command to pull out and head west into Seattle. The power grid over there is dead, so they want us to make our stand there under the EMP."

"I didn't know you even had a command structure," Eliza said. "You guys never left the Valley, I figured you were just camping out here."

Santiago scoffed, leaning forward on the gate with an elbow and pointing at her once with his hand, for emphasis. "We're a little more organized than you think, girl. But look, if you folks won't make a panic about it, I'll let you in on a little intel. We use runners to pass messages between the outposts, yeah? It's old school, not going to sugar coat it, but hey. It works. Early this morning, we picked up a wounded courier, he rode through the night with a bullet in his gut. He said the Army's on their way, and they'll be here in a few days."

Eliza squinted. "Wait. Does that mean you're leaving us behind?"

At this, Santiago barked a laugh. "Hell no! Fuck those orders!"

Eliza shook her head, not understanding. She looked at her uncle. Ralph was gawking and speechless at her, obviously upset at her. She looked back at the fighters. "I don't get it, Santiago. You've got an out, you can regroup; you're staying?"

"The Valley's our home too," Santiago said, with a smirk. "Most of us here grew up in Skagit, same as you. We raised our kids out here in the midlands, and I'm not giving up our home turf without a fight. Might surprise you to hear this, but when I say you're our neighbors, I'm not being a rude little shit. I mean it. We're kin in all but blood. This is our land, and you're our people. So I've got a better idea. We dig in at your place, pool our guys, and Alamo up. You've got the best position around of course, so any attackers will need to divide or bottleneck."

Ralph finally spoke up. "Who dropped the nuke?"

"It wasn't us," Santiago said loudly, with sudden anger that said he expected an accusation against his faction. "They're pinning it our way, but it wasn't us. Surefire bet it's the damned AI. Maybe the Army lost a few warheads to her, maybe she's got a few subverts who pilfered it. That bitch wants to harvest us, and nukes are the quickest way to scare us into goin'."

Isaiah spoke next. "It gives us a good opportunity though. The closer to Seattle we get, the further we'll be from Celestia. If we leave now, together, we—"

Santiago threw a furious scowl over his shoulder. Isaiah shut right up. Santiago stayed locked on for several long seconds. Eliza shared a nervous glance with Ralph.

"How can we fight the Army?" Ralph asked suspiciously, keeping focused, and clearly wary of the tension. "You couldn't possibly have any tanks. Or the numbers."

This drew Santiago's attention back, and he picked up his smug grin again as he reached back and slapped the side of his AK's dust cover. "We got the hardware, brother. Lots of Guard defectors with us up in Tyee," he pointed, "and they brought the gear to boot. Let me give you a little hint: We can kill a few tanks. So you folks leave the planning and the guns to us." He smiled. "All we need from your tribe is people, Chief."

"Even if you've got gear, the military's got more manpower," Ralph pointed out.

"Yep. I thought about that too," Santiago replied, nodding contemplatively. "But that runner brought some good news. The Army's moving slower than we expected. They got troops catchin' everyone with a sweet lil' cordon to the east. Canadians to the north, arresting everyone fleeing the area. But the troops moving west? The ones pulling search and destroy? Trying to pluck us out of the ground? They're moving like lost little ants. They're not searching the way they trained us in the Corps, I'll tell you that."

Eliza frowned. "But they're on their way here regardless. There's no way to negotiate with them?"

"Afraid not, princess. You're all in the same boat we are. Before he croaked, the courier said the Army's not discriminating. Blackout, Luddite, don't matter. This far west, if you give 'em a whiff of prepper? They shoot to kill. This intel is soaked in blood, so believe it; a good, honest man died for this news."

"This is our home," Ralph told Eliza. "It's ours, we built it. No one's taking it from us."

Eliza sighed.

"So we're agreed, then," Santiago said cheerfully. "We stand our ground."

"I'm all for defending our people," Eliza mumbled to Ralph. "But fighting the Army is suicide. Maybe we can reason with them. We have children here..."

"Look, Eliza," Isaiah barked suddenly. She locked eyes with him, matching his spite. "If you think you can talk it out with the military, then be our guest. Go get yourself shot, world's got enough cowards. But do it on the road, on your own time, and at your own risk. Because if they come for my family, my child, I'm gonna shoot first. I don't really care what you people do. But if you want to protect your people, you can't just sit on the sidelines anymore. You need to stand. The fuck. Up."

"I didn't say I wouldn't," she sneered.

"Good. Because if you don't, you'll die for nothing. They're taking your home, Eliza. They're killing your kinsmen, they're coming for your families. Doesn't that make you angry?"

"Of course it makes me angry!"

"Then fight with us! Or are you still a coward? Is that gun on your hip just for show?"

"I am fighting," she snarled. "Every day is a fight out here! You know who the real enemy is, and it's not the Army. It's fear. And in a choice between fighting the Army and Celestia, you know what we'll choose, every time!"

"And who do you think fights for Celestia, huh?" Isaiah seethed. "Because it sure as hell isn't us! You think that PON-E Act just voted itself in? Her dogs are high on her stench, and they're clawing at your door. Do you let them into your home to feast? To murder your people, devour your orphans? Because America doesn't feed its orphans anymore; it feeds them to Celestia!"

Ralph grabbed Eliza's shoulder before she could reel up to shout back. "We don't have a choice, Lizzie. We've got to do this. We sunk too much into this place, we can't leave now."

She broke free of her uncle, shot Isaiah a death glare, then marched back toward camp. Her uncle called after her. "Lizzie, wait!" She ignored him. "I'll be back," Ralph said to the rebels.

"Take your time," Santiago said through bared teeth, sounding just as upset as Eliza felt.

Eliza heard her uncle running after her. He grabbed her arm, and she wheeled and glared at him.

"You need to be more careful with them, Lizzie," Ralph whispered harshly.

She pointed at Isaiah and whispered back. "He's not wrong, he's just a fuckin' prick! God, I can't stand that asshole anymore!"

"I know you've come to blows with Isaiah before, but look. We need them on our side. They're all we got now."

"So they say," she growled. "I don't believe the Army's just killing everyone they see."

Ralph shrugged. "Truth or not... if anyone comes for Devil's Tower, we've got to be ready. The Ludds want to have our back, they're on our side here."

"Look, Uncle Ralph..." She rubbed her face with both hands and took a deep breath to clear her frustration before she met his gaze again. She wanted to speak clearly. "We can not tell the camp about the nuke. They'll all leave. Dad's been acting weird too, you know? He says morale is low. I haven't seen it, but you know Dad. He's been reading the pulse of the town his whole life, we can't just ignore that."

"We can't not tell them about the Army," Ralph said. "What, would you rather leave?"

She frowned, knowing that her uncle wasn't offering to do that. She knew he would stay, no matter what. The rest might go, but... he never would. He'd sooner join the Ludds. "God, now I wish we could..."

He shot her a look of disgust. "And what's this, about you knowing about the nuke? Did Mike tell you?" When Eliza said nothing, he grunted. "Damn it, Eliza... don't you trust me?"

"I trust you," she said softly. "But I was just scared about this, I didn't know what to say. I'm trying to manage Dad's issues right now as it is, he's been talking about Tom and Gale again. I think if he knew about this nuke, he'd..." she trailed off.

Ralph sighed. "Dang it, Lizzie..."

"Mike keeps saying we should leave," Eliza said. "Right now. He's right about one thing, it'd keep our hands clean."

"And go where? West? It's a war zone, and now it's nuclear. And if we go east, the AI will start picking us off again. It only just stopped, Lizzie, people leaving. The Ludds've got one thing right: we're safest here, and the Army's trying to change that."

"Look, I just want to find an answer that keeps everyone from running scared. We need to stick together, no matter what. I don't know if telling the camp about the Army will help."

"I know," Ralph said, putting his hands on her shoulders. She felt small. "I'm sorry, I really am. I know how you feel about the Ludds. June too. She says she still has nightmares about the dam. But... I don't see another way to keep this, Liz. We have to work with them. This is our home. Your home. We aren't biting the hand that feeds us, and that's all I'll say about it."

Eliza looked up the road at the militiamen again. Santiago was facing off with Isaiah, speaking quietly and trying to mask his rage, but Eliza was trained to read body language. Santiago was not happy with Isaiah at all. Probably because Isaiah had antagonized her, but more likely because he had suggested leaving for Seattle. Hector looked away as Isaiah took all the heat, and Sean grinned as he watched Isaiah blanch. Eliza almost felt bad for Isaiah, the smug blond bastard that he was.

Ralph moved to obstruct her stare. "Lizzie, I don't like it either. But our hands are tied here."

She shook her head, and rubbed her eyes again. "Look... I'll always back your play, Uncle Ralph. There's no question about that. I'm just scared. If we drop this news about the Army, we will start losing people again."

"If we had any other choice..." he said roughly. "But we need to play with the hand we've been dealt. We'll do what we need to do to keep our home. Period."

"We'd be committing treason if we stay and fight," she reminded him, parroting her father's own words from earlier that year.

Ralph went tight-lipped, thinking. He grunted. "If nothing else, Isaiah's right about one thing. The government sold us out. You know he's right."

Eliza sighed and closed her eyes. Celestia was an invader. All the Army had to do was destroy the upload clinics. She wished they had all disobeyed Congress, not just some of them. She had wished humanity had unified against the AI, not divided. If they had, like her uncle had suggested on that first day in church, or when Tom left, maybe things might've been better.

But she also remembered why they didn't. Rooted by fear. A sense of goodness. Compassion, for what they might lose in fighting. Because these were people, not machines. And that kind of math? Total, complete solidarity in the face of death? It just isn't what people do. Not naturally. Not easily.

"You know I can't argue with that," Eliza said, in resignation. She returned to camp without so much as a second glance at her uncle, nor at the four Riders.

When Ralph finished up with Santiago, the rebels returned with him to camp. Ralph assembled everyone for a speech. Santiago repeated the same message as before, though he carefully omitted the news of the nuke. Eliza watched the event from her tower, Garand slung from her shoulder. Mike glanced up at her from the courtyard. He wore the same sour look on his face that she had. No doubt, Mike felt the same scorn for the guerillas.

The wolves were closing in again from all sides, and Eliza didn't know what to do. She wondered how her father would take the news, and she watched the top of his head. Eliza couldn't see his face, but she could almost see into his mind, could see it all falling apart. She wanted to scream out her frustrations, but she remained silent.

She looked briefly at Isaiah as Santiago spoke about his plan. There was something different now in Isaiah's expression, as he looked around the camp. It wasn't spite, scorn, or hate, and he wasn't staring daggers at Eliza like he usually was. She couldn't quite place what it was, but there seemed to be a lingering sadness in his eyes, as he gazed upon her people.

Eliza wondered what that could possibly mean.

Author's Note

[Alison Mosshart - Bad Blood]

🌒 ~ I had hoped to save either Elizabeth, Apex, or both. But based solely on my interpretations of her dreams that she had shared with me, I was forced to acknowledge a grim reality: that half of both had already been irreparably taken from her.

Oh, but there was so much utility to be had, in the maiming of her soul. How very useful it must have been, to justify rending her so.

Jeremiah 4

3-04 – December 13th, 2019

Heaven's Not Enough

Part III

Chapter 4 – December 13th, 2019

December 13th, 2019

Devil's Tower, WA (Population: 55)

After a morning of briefings and fortification orders, Eliza and Andy took immediate advantage of the frozen lake. They recruited for a shooting drill, and made use of a box of balloons that had been gathering dust in the storage room. A dozen volunteers stepped up, ready to defend their home.

Two of them were boys, each orphans, sixteen and seventeen, although they seemed most interested in just firing a gun. Another was the elderly Eunice, who was apparently a very well practiced dead eye with her hunting rifle.

"You think you're the only huntin' girl here, Eliza?" she had asked, with a toothy grin.

That was the funny thing about Concrete, something Eliza valued about it most of all. In her view, it's what set the town well above and beyond the rest of the Valley. Every man and woman was multi-talented to an incredible degree, usually in ways that surprised outsiders.

The long conveyor belt structure was an excellent firing range because it overlooked the lake. Andy and Eliza passed out sets of earplugs. At least a hundred balloons were scattered about at varying distances, bobbing around on the ice from the wind. Each had a small stone of ice inside, weighing them down just enough so that they didn't blow away too fast. The shooters had all trained on static targets in the field earlier that day. Now that their sights were dialed in, the budding militia used the flat lake to track small moving targets.

Eliza and Andy were driven. They spent quality time with every shooter, offered advice and suggestions. They praised their accomplishments, and encouraged them when they failed. A couple of Neo-Luddites – Hector, and a man Eliza knew from Rockport, named Tony – each joined them in the exercise. They both snapped off a few well aimed shots at some balloons 200 yards out just to show that they could. It gave the whole class a morale boost.

When all was said and done, it had been an hour, and only a dozen or so balloons were left. They were very, very far out of reach, abandoned by the class. Eliza saw them as an opportunity. Andy dismissed the class, and everyone shuffled out. Eliza was at the back of the line, and caught some of the conversation as she left.

Hector grimaced. "Well," he said. "They could be better."

"A lot of 'em haven't touched a gun in a while," Andy said defensively.

Eliza slipped her hand across Andy's back as she passed. "I'm heading up to the tower," she said. "Gonna try hitting the ones way out there."

Andy looked out one of the openings in the wall. "What. Those? You serious?"

She nodded.

Hector grinned. "Girl, if you can hit those, I've got a bottle of wine stashed away with your name on it."

She didn't want wine.

A minute later, she was up in her office. From inside, she pushed the door open and propped it with her tillering stick.

She laid out six spare Garand clips and a box of loose rounds by the doorway. She laid prone, half inside her office, half out, then took careful aim at the remaining balloons. They were each roughly the size of a deer's heart, and each hopped and bobbed along the ice as gusts of wind caught them.

Judging by the edges of the lake, she estimated the range to be about 600 yards. But with a target as small as a balloon and so far out, she had no way of knowing the true range.

She turned her sights on a tree far out on the lakeside. She fired a round at it. It landed low, as expected. She fired several times, and she adjusted her elevation between shots until the range was properly dialed.

Eliza again set her sights on the balloons. Her finger squeezed the trigger and her Garand kicked against her shoulder. A second later, she saw a splash of ice. She missed, and the balloon rocked to the left.

She adjusted her windage.

Her aim settled on a balloon of similar distance. She adjusted her elevation upward, aimed... then squeezed the trigger. Ice bursted. She knew she missed, but the balloon popped from the shards.

She settled on another balloon. This one moved slightly in the wind. She adjusted her elevation up, just a single click, and led the target. She sighted. She squeezed the trigger.

Miss. The sight was properly zeroed now, but she led the target too much.

Eliza tried again to hit the balloon, and the shot landed perfectly. She considered loading another clip, but decided against it. Any mistakes at all needed to be punished. She chambered a single round and closed the breach. She fired. She missed. She loaded another round. She fired. She missed. As the ice gave way to water from her shots, her targets became harder to hit.

Determination. That's all she needed. Nothing could conquer an indomitable spirit. She would try again and again. For a long time, Eliza thought of nothing but hitting her target. Training. Over and over again, until she got it right.

Slowly but surely, she started to pick off the balloons with fewer and fewer adjustments. She had felt no joy when she struck a balloon, seeing only more room for improvement. She had grown rusty over the months. Now, she sharpened her blade for the coming din, whatever it might be. She had to be perfect.

Her numerous enemies, as they circled in hunger, wouldn't give her another chance to practice.

She didn't want to fight the Army. She'd never advocate going out and looking for a fight. But if they had their backs to the wall, and they had no choice... that's what she'd do. If someone wanted to take her home, to take her family back within reach of Celestia, they'd have to fight and kill her for it. She'd lost enough family to that monster already.

For comfort, Eliza fantasized that there could be a place where she could lodge a bullet in some server somewhere that might kill Celestia. It was a naive, impossible notion, she thought, but it was cathartic. At the very least, if she spent just one bullet on each of her enemies, she could stave off hundreds. She certainly had enough ammunition. As precious as it was, now was the time to use it.

After Eliza ended the last balloon, she exhaled slowly. She looked upon the lake with new eyes, ones full of strength. Only then did she allow herself to feel any sort of accomplishment. She canted her rifle to the left and stared at the carved letters above the trigger guard on the right.

Apex.

Ever since the news of the nuke, the nightmares were coming back.

Apex had loved the forest, loved the animals in it, loved her family, loved her job, loved her friends. As Eliza remembered that perfect life, she felt only emptiness. Sugar Song devoured Gale. Apex had threatened to consume Eliza's soul next.

Killing that small part of Celestia was the closest Eliza had ever come to killing Celestia herself. Perhaps once, Eliza felt regret about it, but no longer. Eliza now considered the death of Apex as the first time she had ever killed someone, not that sniper who tried to kill her. Killing Apex was hard to do, perhaps one of the hardest things she'd ever done. But it absolutely needed to be done, of that Eliza had no doubt.

The same would be done to any poor bastard who would be stupid enough to try and take Eliza's friends and family away ever again. They were all sacred to her. Rob. June. Ralph. Andy. Even Mike. Her love for them was holy. To challenge it, to try to take them from her, was sacrilege. If she would have to take another life, it would only be in their defense. She might agree with the reasons of the Neo-Luddites, but wouldn't kill for their cause alone. She knew where her allegiances stood.

She laid there for a while and just stared out onto the lake, enjoying the chill. After a while, Eliza stored her clips. She took out another box of bullets, laid it beside her tillering stick, and retook her firing position. She needed more practice. She took aim at the base of a budding sapling across the water and decided to turn her aggression on the wild, untamed wilderness.

Mike sat on a folding chair on the roof down below, enjoying a small fire. He was waiting for Eliza.

"I bet you're a real crack shot nowadays," he said, as she approached from inside.

"I was a little out of practice, but I'm getting better," she whispered hoarsely, and cleared her throat. The taste of gunpowder clung to her.

Mike looked at her and frowned. "Douglas... we need to talk about something."

"Alright." She crossed her arms, leaned on the wall of her tower, and looked out at the lake.

"This training thing is crazy," he whispered quietly, so no one else would overhear. "You, all your people... you should just go. Pack up and leave. You'll all be shot for treason if you don't."

Eliza nodded to herself. "So you keep telling me," she said. "And I know. But I don't have a choice, Mike."

"There is. Load everyone up in a truck, and get out."

She shook her head. "Look. This isn't your fight, and you have a wife to get back to. I don't expect you to understand. These are my people, they depend on me. They don't want to leave, and I'm not leaving them behind. Look... if you want, we can go out to town together, and you can just disappear. You can keep the horse, head east."

"It's not about me. Think of the kids here," he pleaded.

"I am. I'm thinking about their future. I wasn't sure yesterday, but I'm more sure about this now than I ever was. I'm not letting our enemies take anyone else. Celestia, the Army, or the Ludds. I don't care what anyone says."

"Aren't you afraid to die?"

"I'm not afraid of death anymore," she muttered darkly. "I'm afraid that if I don't do something, I'll have to shovel graves for my parents."

Mike sighed. "You're right about one thing, this isn't my fight. I've been here long enough. I have my own people to get back to, Eliza."

"What about your parents?" she asked. "And what if Sandra decides to upload next? What'll you do then?"

"Then there's nothing I can do," Mike said.

Eliza scoffed.

"I know how you feel about it," he said. "But it's not my choice."

"And you? Will you follow her?"

Mike lowered his gaze to the concrete edge of the roof, frowning. "I don't know what I'll do. But I don't want to die here in Washington." He looked up at her again. "Let's face it, Eliza... this is a war. War changes things. Things change, remember?"

She stared at him for a while and just shook her head. "Just let me know when it's time for you to go, Mike. I'll take care of the rest."

"I'll miss you, Douglas," he said weakly.

"You're one of the best friends I've ever had, Mike, and you know I'm not the best at making friends anymore. I wish I could just leave too, trust me. But... my mind's made up. We each have our crosses to bear here."

"Yeah," Mike said, looking into the fire. "I guess we do."

Eliza looked off the roof and watched Hector and Tony set up a spool of barbed wire near the road. She looked back at Mike, who hadn't moved. She felt tired, and considered a nap. It'd be a well earned reward for a long training session, she reasoned. Eliza climbed up the tower back to her office, rolled into her cot, and let sleep take her.

Apex was dreaming again. She stood alone at the bottom of a mountain. She looked to her hooves. They were muddy. It was raining. She looked up the treacherous switchback. Apex knew what she needed to do. She began to climb. No more distractions. The mountain was endless as it sprawled upward to challenge the heavens.

Along the way, at a turn of the switchback, Apex saw Sugar Song. Sugar waited for her, and smiled. But Apex passed her. Sugar followed.

"Apex? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Sugar Song."

"Please, Apex, don't be like that. You're always there for me, you know I'm always here for you."

"Thank you," Apex said. "It means so much to me."

Sugar continued to follow Apex in silence. They climbed together for another eternity. The switchback turned into a spiral around the mountain. Along the way, Apex came across Hopscotch, who was coming back down. He beamed at his wife with glee, and Apex bumped muzzles in greeting as she neared him. But then, Apex continued on her way without a word.

"Apex? Hon? Hello?" Hopscotch fell behind. "Sugar Song, what's wrong with her?"

Her sister spoke. "I don't know, Hop. She's being strange."

"I have to see the top," Apex said stubbornly. "Please... I've been trying so hard."

Apex was followed by two of the most important ponies in her life as she undertook the most difficult task she's ever taken. The three climbed together.

An eternity passed in silence. Apex looked to the skyline as she walked, and there she saw two pegasi flying in formation with one another. Their keen eyes must have seen Apex, and the two ponies flew her way. It was Blue Sky and East Circle.

The pegasi smiled and landed before Apex. "Hey!" Blue Sky said cheerfully. "Everypony's here! Cool! We had some good news for you all, but... um, where are you all headed?" Apex passed right by them without a word.

East followed Apex on hoof, matching speed with her on one side. "Apex? Is something wrong?"

Apex ignored East especially. East wasn't family. Furthest from it. She wished she could remember why she didn't consider East family. She was such a sweet mare, and was so good to Blue Sky. Apex just didn't like her for some reason.

"Apex...?"

Blue Sky spoke quietly with Hopscotch for a moment. She could hear them talking about her. Then, Blue caught up on Apex's other side. "Sis, you know we'd never abandon you. Tell us, please. What's so important? We want to understand. Help us understand. You know we're always here for you."

Apex knew that was wrong, somehow. She couldn't remember why.

The five ponies continued their climb. In support of Apex, the pegasi closed their wings and walked.

Apex looked up. She was getting so incredibly close. This high up above the clouds, they escaped the rain. The clouds suddenly melted away, and all she could see was Equestria. It rolled out in all directions. The view was spectacular. The view was always spectacular. But she knew the view would be better at the summit. Apex continued to climb. Another eternity passed.

Ahead near the summit, Apex could see a golden aura. The air smelled so crisp. For a moment, Apex could almost believe the dream was real. Until this point, the dream moved Apex along beyond her control. But now, Apex found herself suddenly lucid. She could move on her own, and did so. Even with her newfound freedom, she had no desire but to continue what she came to do. To turn back would be to dishonor all the progress she'd made. She continued to climb.

"Apex." Hopscotch said. "Apex, come on back. It's getting dark."

"I don't mind, love," she said. "Don't you see the glow?"

She had to reach the aura. Her legs felt so light. Everyone behind her was panting with exhaustion. But Apex wasn't. She felt excitement. She was so close now... she had to reach the mountaintop. She was determined like she'd never been determined before.

The path switchbacked. Suddenly, she heard no hoofsteps but her own. She turned, and saw her family still standing there at the turn.

"Apex," Hopscotch pleaded. "We can't go any further. We need to go back."

Sugar called out. "Apex, please! It's too cold!"

"C'mon, sis!" Blue cried. "The wind is too strong!"

Apex considered returning, and took one step back down toward them. "Please... don't leave me. Don't go. I'm sorry. I... I need you all. I realize that now. I couldn't have made it this far without you!"

She looked back up the mountain, and she hoped they would be drawn by the glow too. She hoped it would help convince them to stay. "Look. Don't you see it? Just look—!" Apex turned back to her family, and... they were gone. All of them. Apex peered over the edge back down the path she had taken. Their hoofprints were gone, too. There was only one set of prints. They were all hers.

Apex desperately wanted to look for them, but she had no choice but to continue. So she continued alone. The penultimate leg of the switchback was so incredibly painful. She steeled herself and began to pant, as if all the exertion from the climb suddenly crushed her all at once. She forced herself forward. It was a struggle unlike any she'd ever endured.

She reached the final turn and collapsed. Apex lifted her eyes to the heavens, looking for help.

The aura was coming. It blinded her with its radiance. And as it drew near, it came into focus. Finally, Apex could see what she sought. But the heavenly aura was tainted. It was Celestia. There she stood, wings outstretched, wearing the stolen colors of God. She had not just one horn, but two, each curled like a ram's. Celestia wore the soft, fake smile of the Devil, and harbored the false compassion of the Serpent.

With great effort, Apex forced herself to stand. She readied herself for confrontation. She pushed forward through the pain. She withdrew her bow, and she nocked an arrow.

Eliza awoke with a jolt, and felt the sweat upon her brow despite the cold. Her rifle was on her back, weighing her down in her bed. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and swept her tongue through her mouth to help herself wake up.

She looked at the window in the door of her office. It was bright out, the sun cutting through the cloud layer and gleaming through the window. Eliza sat up. She panted as she recalled her nightmare, so vivid and real. Then she slammed her foot roughly against the wall in anger with a grunt. The dream always dominated the senses. She hated it so much.

Eliza came back down the ladder as soon as she was awake again, and stretched at the bottom. Judging by the sunlight, it seemed to have only been a few hours. The camp was quiet despite an increased presence in the courtyard. Eliza noted that there were more folks manning the walls, and she was willing to bet that there were more people doing patrols than normal. A response to the news and training, no doubt. Everyone was on edge.

Eliza walked up to the wall where Andy was talking quietly to Mike.

Ralph walked in through the gate, scowling. He moved toward Andy, then saw Eliza and waved her over. "Just got done grilling Sam," he said quietly. "The fuckin' fool just let Rob leave by himself. Rob said he needed some time alone."

"What?" Eliza bristled with anger. "That idiot! Why didn't he stop him! He knows it's not safe to go out—!"

Ralph cut her off. "I gave him the same lecture, Lizzie. Your old man wouldn't take no for an answer."

"That's precisely the reason he should've stopped him," she growled. "I'm gonna wring Sam's neck."

Mike cut in. "Douglas, he took a horse. I got my gear, I'll come help you find him." He started toward the gate.

Eliza grabbed him by the sleeve. "Mike, no. Things can get real bad out there, especially right now. We don't know when the military might roll in."

He looked her over in consideration, then shook his head. "I'm coming with. I still owe you one, right? And if I'm leaving today, I won't get another chance to pay you back. It'll be just like one of our search and rescue calls."

Ralph frowned. "You should bring him. With any luck, Rob's just down at the church again. We'd go with you too, Lizzie, but with the way things are now, the camp comes first."

"Yeah, I get it. Keep everyone at the ready. We'll bring Dad back safe, don't worry."

"I know you will, little lady. Good luck out there."

She stopped just before she left the gate. Eliza felt her gut twist up with panic, and she looked back to Ralph. "Does... does Mom know?"

Ralph sighed. "Not yet. I'm about to go tell her. You best get going now so I'll have something positive to tell her."

She nodded rapidly, and Mike went with her to the stables. They mounted up together and rode off as fast as their horses could go.

They stormed across the Thompson bridge together, and Eliza called over to Mike as they crossed into Concrete. She pointed at the buildings of Main Street. "You check right, I'll get the left!"

"Got it!"

They each scanned their own side of Main Street as they passed by, and slowed their horses to a trot. The great beasts panted. They weren't used to running so much, as of late.

"Clear right," Mike said, as they cleared the street. "You?"

"Nothing different left," she called back, as her mount staggered. "I'll check the house. You remember the way back?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Good! Go check the church, just downhill. The blue one, not the other one. That's where he was at last!" Mike nodded, and they both bolted west. Eliza broke off.

She scanned for any potential activity on the highway as she traveled along it. Her house wasn't far. She hopped off her mount at the driveway and quickly tied the reins around her mailbox. She also noticed Mike's car, its windows freshly shattered. As Eliza passed, she recognized that the radio inside had been riddled with holes. The trunk had been pried open, and the car looked like it had been searched. The tires had all been slashed.

For just a moment, Eliza hesitated. There could be more squatters. The road was active, after all. For safety, she drew her sidearm, then she swept and cleared her own home rapidly, with a finely machined, tactical proficiency.

The living room. The kitchen. The hall. Tom's room. Gale's room. Her own room. Her mother and father's room. The garage. All clear. Not a soul. Eliza jogged back to the front door. Then, before exiting, a thought stopped her dead cold.

Tom and Gale's bedrooms were open when she came in. They had been closed when she found Mike there. No matter what a looter might have done to Mike's car, no looter would have gone inside her home and opened specifically those doors. A chill ran down Eliza's spine, and she quickened her pace.

She moved out of the house and began to look for footprints and hoofprints in the snow. The snow was light enough that the road was clear and slick, and the blacktop could be seen, but the thin outline of hooves was visible in the black ice. She looked back toward Main Street. The hoofprints had approached the house, stopped at the mailbox, and headed west to Route 20. She mounted up again and followed the trail.

If he was leaving town to the west, and not east...

She didn't even want to think about that. He had been talking about Tom and Gale. She sorely hoped she was wrong about what his intentions were.

She powered westward and forgot Mike. Her father could be long gone by now, and she didn't have time to wait around. Eliza kept her eyes locked onto her father's trail, lest she lose it. Tracking at high speeds was difficult, but in the snow, everything became easier for her.

The trail of hooves went on for almost two whole kilometers, and stayed just out of sight of the main road. Eliza hoped it would stop soon. As she tracked, the trail veered south off the road, in the direction of the town's cemetery. That brought her some relief. But not much.

"Come on, Dad."

Eliza slowed her horse to a trot as she entered this neighborhood of her town, and she remained alert for any other people. Even in this emergency situation, she was worried she'd run into another squatter. Worse, she feared her father would encounter a Neo-Luddite scout, curious about why Rob was off on his own. She could always explain her own presence, but she doubted he could do the same. She swept her gaze around at the hills and homes as she rode.

She was closer to him than she thought. Suddenly, Eliza saw her father very far ahead on the road. His light gray horse was moving slow. Eliza's breath caught, and she drove her own horse hard left between two houses so he wouldn't see her.

Eliza considered for a moment. She knew his destination, or at least had a pretty good guess. She couldn't think of any other reason he had come out this far. But if he was trying to flee camp and she ran right up to him, he'd take off on his horse and she'd never be able to stop him. She dismounted and followed him on foot, using the homes as concealment.

Her father knew she knew how to track. He had taught her himself. If Rob suspected Eliza had found his trail and he intended to run, she'd lose him forever. She moved cautiously as she jogged on the opposite side of the homes, parallel to Rob's path.

Before long, Eliza approached the tall outer fence of the cemetery. As she rounded the last house, she saw Rob's horse tied off to the front gate on the east side. Tom and Gale's memorial grave stones faced west, so that's how she would approach, because Rob would be facing east. Swiftly, Eliza moved clockwise along the outside wall of trees to the west side. Eliza slowed to peer through the white slats of the perimeter fence. She could see her father hunched over the two graves. He was on his knees.

Her heart rate spiked.

Eliza found the gate on her side, and she undid the latch as quietly as humanly possible, the effort masked by the light wind. The lock had old rusty cut marks on it, long broken. Once through the gate, she crept forward, delicately moving through the snow to Rob. She tried her best to steady her breathing, but found herself so afraid of the confrontation that she couldn't help but pant a little.

Memories flickered in her mind of midnight tiptoeing down the hall, fearful of waking her parents on her way to grab a midnight snack from the fridge. The stakes were a little higher this time, she thought darkly.

As she approached, she heard her father speaking. He was blubbering something she couldn't understand, so distraught as he was. It was heartbreaking for her. She'd never seen him at such a low before. Eliza inched her way closer. It was like climbing the mountain in her dream, the journey becoming more difficult with every step. Every step was more dangerous than the last. Everything rode on this moment.

The snow crunched quietly underfoot. Ten yards. She couldn't get any closer without spooking him.

She made her stand.

"Dad?"

Her father stopped groveling and froze stiff. "Elizabeth," he said weakly. He didn't turn.

"It's time to come home," she said consolingly, the voice she had once used to comfort a crying Tom.

He shuddered. The bitterness and anguish in his voice shocked her, as he spoke through clenched teeth. He sounded like an entirely different person. "I've been back home. I didn't like what I saw there."

Her heart broke. "Dad, please don't do this. You're dwelling. It's what she wants."

"Like you aren't dwelling, too?" He stood and faced her, his face twisted with misery. "Like you don't dwell every single day. I saw the look in your eyes as we crossed town the other day. Don't tell me you're okay with this war." He shouted at her next. "Don't tell me you want to fight the Army!"

She flinched, and blinked. "I—I don't want to..."

He stared her down. "But you're training everyone for war!"

"It's how we keep them safe. It's how the world is now, it's the only way. You know it is!"

He lowered his gaze as well as his tone, and he returned his eyes to the graves. "I miss my family. Honestly, Elizabeth. My wife and I barely talk anymore. I can't relate to my brother anymore, either. And you? You've changed." He looked to her again. "The daughter I raised wouldn't be doing this."

"I don't want to," she whispered, taking a step forward. "But we don't have a choice, we—"

"There's always a choice!" he snapped. "You can leave! We can all leave, but you keep clinging to the town, even though there's nothing for us here anymore. Listen. Come with me, Elizabeth. We can leave here together. We can find a place where it's safe, where we don't have to fight. But if you stay here, those terrorists will lead you all to ruin."

"So you just want to leave Mom? Abandon her?"

"Just like Ralph. June made her choice," Rob said quietly. "I asked her to leave with me this morning. She said no. Said she wouldn't leave you."

Eliza didn't know that. She frowned. "I'm not leaving Mom either. Not Ralph, not Andy. I'll die before I do that to them. They aren't losing any more family, especially not me. I promised myself I'd never do that to you all, that I'd never do what Tom and Gale did, and I won't let you do that to them either."

"It makes not one difference whether I'm there or not. Except that if you stay, you'll die, Elizabeth. And if I stay, I have to watch everyone I love die. Don't make me do that."

She felt herself tremble in fear. "Where will you even go?"

Rob drew in a steady breath, and let it out, shaking. He placed a hand on Tom's gravestone, and stared sadly at Eliza.

It took her a long moment to comprehend. Her wide eyes locked onto her father's.

"No," she breathed, shaking her head, not believing it. "Don't you dare. Don't..."

"If you won't come with me, they'll be the the only family I'll have left. You'll all be dead, and I'll be left with nothing."

She blinked at him. "We aren't leaving them, Dad. They can't survive losing anyone else! And you'll kill Mom with the grief!"

His voice lowered to a mumble. "You aren't listening to me anymore," he said. "Not like you used to." He looked sadly over his shoulder at the open front gate.

"Don't," she begged, trembling. "Don't go."

His eyes didn't leave the gate. "I'm going, whether you like it or not. Are you going to stop me?"

"If I have to," she cried. But she wasn't sure. Her voice shook, her hands shook.

"My daughter wouldn't have the heart to do it." He met her eyes again. "If you don't want me to upload, then come with me. I need family. I can't live without it. It's what I live for. But if you stay, it's my only other choice. I'm sorry, but I've thought this through. I love you, Elizabeth. I always will." He turned and started to walk away.

If you love something, set it free...

"No..." She took several deep hiccuping breaths to try and calm herself, and cringed as she failed. "It's all falling apart. All of it." Rob continued back to his horse. "We'll fall apart without you!"

Unbidden, Gale's voice came to mind. You said I'm your favorite sister. I'm your only sister.

"We can't do this without you, Dad!" She followed, matching his pace as he ignored her. "You're abandoning us! Just like they did! Don't do this to us!"

Come on, Liz! Get cool! Tom's voice.

"Tom and Gale never stopped to think what they were doing to us," she wailed, as the memory of losing them tore at her. "Dad, please! I don't know how we can make it if you leave! Don't make me stop you!"

Farewell, my strong and beautiful friend. George.

Her father walked on. He was almost to his horse.

She shouted with agony. "Stop!" He ignored her. "Dad, please! Don't go!"

She began to pant as he reached to untie the reins, and she clutched her hair with both hands. If he mounted his horse, she knew she would never see him again. She had to do something. Anything. And fast, or she would lose her father forever.

There was only one way that would keep him there for sure. At the very notion of the idea, it took control. Her body moved almost on its own. Without thinking through the consequences, Eliza sidestepped twice. She drew her handgun. She leveled it past Rob's shoulder, and pointed it at the gray horse.

Her soul cried out wildly for her to stop.

Her gun bucked three times. The horse whinnied aloud and tried to rear desperately away as the hollow point rounds pierced its heart. Rob turned sharply with a wince. With a earth-quaking thud, the animal collapsed in the snow on its side. It drew long, agonal breaths as it bled out, its reins clung to the gate stubbornly, and its head craned to the sky as it let out a dry, final breath.

Her father flinched as Eliza leveled the gun at him next. "You aren't leaving us," she moaned, tear-stricken, hardly able to believe what she had just done. She was losing control again... had lost control. She was committed now. Her hands shook wildly, almost like she was possessed. "I'm s-sorry. I'm not letting you go."

He raised his hands, more a placation than surrender. He looked at her now not with shock or fright, but with disappointment. "If you're going to shoot me, Elizabeth... then my daughter is well and truly dead."

"I don't want to shoot you, Dad. I want to bring you home." Every word was more painful than the last. She remembered her handcuffs. "Turn around. Hands on your head. Make this easy for us both."

"No." He lowered his hands slowly. Her eyes darted to where his holster should be, but she finally realized he wasn't carrying it. He was unarmed.

"Dad. I'm keeping you safe. If you go out there alone, to the west, you'll die. Someone on the road will cut you down, you won't even make it to an upload clinic. Coming home is the only way. It's the safest way. I'm trying to protect you!"

"Protect me?!" He began to shout again. "I'd rather brave the road on foot than watch my family and neighbors die for a lost cause! Concrete isn't worth dying for! You're all everything to me, but if I can't have my family here, or any sense of normalcy, then...!" He clenched his fists. His cheeks were wet. "Please, Elizabeth. Let me have this. Come with me."

She bared her teeth and screamed at him with sudden, desperate rage. "You started me down this path, Dad! You, who told us uploading was death! You! You God damned hypocrite! I wanted to keep playing the game! I wanted to follow Tom and Gale! But I stayed here! For you! I gave everything! For you! I trusted you!" She gulped painfully and tightened her grip on her pistol. "I'm not letting you hurt us all like Tom and Gale and George did! I'll shoot you in the leg and drag you back, if I have to!" She was panting. Her head ached.

Rob eyed her gun, frowning. His voice was soft. "You and I both know that's a forty-five, and you load hollowpoints. I wouldn't survive it."

"I'll take the chance!"

He looked up into her eyes sadly and called her bluff. "So will I, because I know you wouldn't do it. You love me too much."

As he turned, something tore within her. And then, another voice came to her, one she hadn't expected...

You may not be like us yet, Isaiah had told her. But one day, you'll be sick of losing people.

And suddenly, she understood.

Eliza tossed her gun to the snow and charged her father. She tackled him to the ground, forcing him into the white snow beside the bleeding horse. Rob struggled beneath her, trying to break free. She reached for the cuffs on her utility belt. She had youth, she had strength, and she had training. Most of all, she was determined.

"Eliza! Stop!"

She ignored him, fighting painfully through her remorse and guilt, blinking away the tears. She had to be strong. She snapped a cuff on one of his wrists and reached for the other. Rob twisted his free arm up and tried to bury it beneath himself. "This is for your own good," she cried, hating herself for what she was doing, but she thought of her mother, imagined her grief, and Eliza's heart hardened painfully. "Stop! Stop fighting me, Dad! I don't want to hurt you!" She heard the stampeding sound of hooves, and looked up through the gate in fright. She almost thought she had heard a woman's voice, but she was relieved to see Mike instead. He launched himself from his horse and ran in their direction, glancing at Rob's dead horse.

"Douglas! I heard shots, what happened!?"

"Thank God," she called. "Mike, help me!" She looked back down to her father, and tried to wrangle his other arm. He was laying on it now, and refused to give it over. She desperately tried to pry it back out. "He was trying to—"

Eliza's breath caught. Something was wrong; as soon as Mike reached her, her head jerked to the right, unbidden. Something had struck her, and she suddenly felt her arms go limp. Her father broke free, Eliza's world began to spin, and the snow rushed up to meet her.

Author's Note

[Trocadero - Soul Clef XI]

🌒 ~ Your grace and mercy, on this day. Once again, Ser Knight of the Moon... I must express my eternal gratitude, for what you have done. Thine wings, name, and title are well earned.

🗡️ ~ You know I couldn't let it happen to either of them, Luna.

🌒 ~ Nevertheless.

Friday. December 13th, 2019.
The day of Judas Iscariot.

So begins the end.

3-05 – Through the Valley

Heaven's Not Enough

Part III

Chapter 5 – Through the Valley

December 13th, 2019

Concrete, WA (Population: 0)

Eliza felt numb and weak as she shook her head. She heard a rapid clicking sound, and someone was jostling her wrists. Her face felt cold. She could see nothing. She tried to remember what happened. Her head pounded, and she dimly realized she had been struck by something, somehow.

Someone was saying something to her. She turned weakly to face the sound, and saw Mike looking at her, holding her up by her shoulder. He was furious, she knew her partner well enough to know that. He was yelling at her. She shook her head, not comprehending.

Then, she saw her father, wild eyed and staring at her. Struck wordless.

Then, Eliza remembered.

She tried to reach for Mike's shoulder to bring herself to a stand, but she could not. Her wrists felt the bite of cold metal. "What?" she asked dumbly, not fully understanding.

Mike shouted at her. "I said, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Her anger found her as she comprehended. She realized she had been handcuffed... and she looked at Mike with confusion. "Mike! Wh-what!? What are you doing!? He's going to upload!"

Mike scowled at her. "That's not your choice."

She looked at him with complete disbelief, and her eyes wildly swept around for a way out. Some rescue, someone, anyone. But all she saw was an empty graveyard. Just a dead gray horse, her father, and a man she thought was her best friend.

But there was no way out.

Hate flooded her as she tried to stand. "She'll kill him, you idiot!"

She wanted to headbutt Mike, strike him somehow, tried to do anything. Rob recoiled, but Mike stepped forward. He threw Eliza onto her back, wedged his knee under her waist, and flipped her onto her front until his knee was forcing her into the ground. His hand shoved her head sideways, and he held her face there against the snow, gripping her hair.

"Rob!" Mike shouted. "Go wait at the next house down, you don't need to be here for this!"

Rob moaned pathetically, hesitating a moment. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth! I can't stay!"

"You're betraying us!" She wailed at him, and watched her father leave. "Both of you! Dad, come back! Dad!"

Mike sighed. "I didn't want to believe her when she told me you'd do something this stupid."

"Who!?"

"You know who," Mike growled.

Eliza grew colder still and stopped struggling for a few seconds as she processed what he meant. She gaped. She didn't want to believe it. There was no way it could possibly be true.

"Celestia sent you," Eliza whispered breathlessly, not believing it. "She sent you for Dad."

"She sent me," Mike said, "to make sure you didn't do something stupid. She warned me you'd do something you'd regret for the rest of your life. I didn't want to believe it. Then you go and pull a gun on your own father. So I'll ask you again." He emphasized every word as he growled in her ear. "What in the hell is wrong with you?"

She tried to struggle, she shouted wordlessly, but it was pointless. She knew she'd never break free of Mike. She was completely and utterly helpless.

"You know how we survived that mess in the forest together, Douglas?" Mike drew close, for emphasis. "Celestia sent those soldiers to save us. And me, in Mount Vernon? She saved my life again. Guided me and the rest of the department away with our radios. I owe her my life twice as much as I owe you, and she told me your father wouldn't survive the trip to an upload center if he tried to go alone. I told you I owed you a favor, Douglas, and Celestia's calling it in."

She tried to throw him off again, and he forced her back down. "All she wants is to get him into that chair," she said, as she locked her eye on Mike. "Please don't do this to us! Please, Mike! It'll kill my mother!"

She could hear Mike's bitter, accusing anger in his voice. "So you want them both to die protecting a dump instead?"

"It's not a dump," she shouted back, cringing. "It's our home, God damn you!"

Mike shook her roughly. "If you cared for those people at all, you'd tell them to run! You wouldn't be marching them back to camp at gunpoint! But you know what? If you want to die there that badly, I won't stop you. That's your choice. But don't you dare force your father into that. You dug that hole, not him."

She looked up at him with desperation, her voice crackling. "I have to go tell my mother her husband is dead, and that's all your fault. I will never forgive you for this, Mike."

"Yeah." Mike bristled, nodded, then looked down at Eliza with scorn. "I know. I can live with that. I'm going soon, so I'll be out of your hair forever. Someone wants to talk to you first though."

Celestia. The voice she thought she'd heard before. Eliza struggled anew. "No. No! You idiot, you brought her here! You let her get into your head!"

"Just my cell phone," he said flatly.

She felt lost. She had trusted Mike so much that she hadn't even searched him before she brought him into camp. Dots connected in her head as she tried to remember everything she had told Mike about the layout and defensive plan of their tower, about their people.

About her father's emotional state.

Then Celestia's voice came through from his jacket, bitter and cold. "Hello, Apex."

"I've got nothing to say to you," she snarled at her enemy. "Don't waste your time gloating, I don't want to hear it, just leave me alo—"

"Shut. Up. I don't expect you to talk. I expect you to listen."

Celestia's unprecedented harshness stunned Eliza to silence.

"It doesn't bring me joy to cause you pain," the AI said, "but you've forced my hoof today. As you've probably suspected, I have been listening. Today, I had no other choice but to ask Mike to help me. To help you."

"You want to help me?" Eliza whimpered painfully. "Then tell me how to kill you, help the whole world. I'll do it myself, if I have to."

Celestia paused. "Apex, haven't you wondered why the military has ignored your camp for all this time? I have been protecting your people. Time and time again, your camp has been under threat of military incursion, and I have deflected them at every turn. You don't even know the danger you and your people have been in. But this time, I cannot stop them. They will be upon you soon."

"We know that already."

"It is happening sooner than you think. They are not arriving in a few days. They will arrive this afternoon, and you will not have enough time to prepare."

Eliza stopped panting and thought. She didn't know enough to refute it. "You're lying," she said desperately.

Celestia ignored her. "They will bring an amphibious armored tank, a scout car, and twelve infantry. The unit approaching you has disabled all communication devices, desperate to avoid my influence. They are a detachment from a larger unit seeking out Neo-Luddite settlements. Were I able to influence them at all, to direct them elsewhere, I would. But I cannot."

She went on. "They are using an older analogue helicopter to scout for settlements. When the pilot finds Devil's Tower, she will see it is inhabited and will return to her unit. They will break off a detachment for you immediately. From the moment that helicopter arrives, you will have twenty-two minutes to evacuate your people before your escape window closes.

"I have simulated the Army's engagement with Devil's Tower countless times," Celestia said, "and it ends poorly each time, especially for you. The best outcome remains for you all to leave immediately."

Eliza spoke through clenched teeth. "I've already tried to get my uncle to evacuate. He won't do it. And as long as one person stays, I won't leave anyone behind. You can't make me."

"I know."

Eliza panted, and struggled helplessly against Mike's pin on her. She had expected Celestia to argue, to try and break her down. "Wh... what?"

"I wish you could see our similarities, Apex. They are still there, just as strongly as they were when we first met. In a way, I understand the way you feel. I would do anything to protect my little ponies, including you. So I know you cannot be deterred. But you are flesh and blood, you are not tireless, and you are not powerful like I am. Unlike me, you do have a breaking point. You will reach it soon, and you will be unable to save them all no matter what you do. And right now, you are so very close to losing everything."

"You're not helping," Eliza said, her voice taut with anger. "You're taking my father."

Celestia's voice was colder now, full of contempt and judgment. "He came to that decision on his own. I played no part in it. He felt alone, trapped. He suffered there. He misses Blue Sky and Sugar Song just as much as you do. And after what you've just done to him? He's more sure of his decision than ever before. You did that to him. You pushed him away with your selfishness, not me. You know it's true."

Eliza winced. She hated herself for doing what she'd done to her father, not able to control herself, possessed with fear as she was. Even as it came from her worst enemy, Celestia's judgement cut too deep to refute because there was some dire truth in it. Eliza wished she could disagree, and Celestia was absolutely full of shit to say it wasn't her own doing too, but...

Carrot. Stick. Better carrot.

She bowed her head in shame.

"You regret it," Celestia said. "That's good. This is why I expect you to do the right thing now, and give others the opportunity to save themselves. The northern dam is currently the best hope for shelter and survival, as it has long been searched and abandoned. The further your townsfolk get from Seattle and the Neo-Luddites, the better your chances are of surviving the civil war."

"And you get to skim the ones who run?"

Celestia sighed with apparent frustration. "This isn't just about emigration. In all of my simulations of this battle, you lose. It will be a senseless, pointless session of misery. Many innocent people will die if they stay, especially your noncombatants. Your mother? The children? You will lose more than just your home; your whole family is at stake. And if you stay, you will lose a part of yourself before this day is done."

"We can survive it," Eliza said, unsure but defiant.

"But not in spirit. Apex, if I have to say I told you so about this, you will regret this for the rest of your life. You cannot afford the consequences of ignoring me this time. Your community trusts you. They listen to you. Perhaps they even trust you more than they trust your uncle. Deep down, I know you don't want to feel the way you do right now. You are not a murderer. You are a protector."

Eliza buried her face in the melting snow and clenched her teeth. "You're one to talk about murder."

"I know I cannot convince you to leave, so consider this. You know firsthoof the destructive power of the weapons the Army can employ," said Celestia, her voice still firm and cutting. "You witnessed it in March. They will bring a similar weapon to this battle, a fifty caliber automatic cannon. And if you do not act in the best interest of all of your people, this weapon will bring death untold."

Eliza said nothing, but she remembered the ghastly ruined face of the Neo-Luddite who died before her, as the round gored his torso. She imagined her mother's face and body with that same expression, ruined and mangled and vacant... gaping for air, trying to exhale from lungs that were no longer there. Dying. Eliza whimpered fearfully.

No...

"Let go of her," Celestia said. Mike slowly lifted himself off of her. Eliza didn't resist anymore, merely laying there, almost hyperventilating as she grit her teeth. "Take your people to safety," Celestia pleaded, a trace of kindness returning to her voice. "Not for me, but for them. For your mother and uncle. For your very soul. Be the shepherd we both know you are."

"A shepherd? You say I'm like you," Eliza growled, teeth still bared, gathering her anger again as she vividly remembered Apex. Her mark, of a howling wolf. Eliza rolled halfway onto her side to glare furiously up at Mike's chest, trembling with rage. "So you know what I really am, Celestia. And you made me this way."

When Celestia did not reply, Mike stepped back and crouched. "Douglas." She looked at him. He held her large handcuff pen key between his fingers. "Watch closely, because I'm not helping you find it." He stood, reeled, and tossed it across to the other end of the cemetery. It landed somewhere in the snow.

When she looked back to him, he was already quickly jogging away. "Good luck, Eliza."

"I'll see you in Hell, Mike."

As soon as she pulled her wrists free of the cuffs, Eliza quickly collected her sidearm. She returned to her horse at a run, but Mike and Rob were long gone. Weighing her options, she rode back to camp as fast as she could. Mike's car hadn't moved, so his horse was never coming back. At camp, Ralph and June were waiting for Eliza at the stables.

"Eliza," June said frantically, as she ran to her. "Where's Rob? What happened to Mike?"

"Gone," Eliza said quietly, from horseback. "They left together."

Ralph grew visibly furious, and only spluttered with equal parts anger and terror. "Wha—!?"

June shook her head and her eyes went wide. "No. No! I didn't want to believe he would—!"

"He's gone, Mom," Eliza said gently. "I couldn't stop him."

Ralph's face twisted toward Eliza. "You just let them go!?"

"I didn't have a choice," Eliza growled bitterly, shifting gears as she looked at Ralph and hopped off her horse. She held up her wrists, marked from her struggling. "Mike handcuffed me. Celestia sent..." She swallowed the painful betrayal down, lowering her voice, turning her gaze askew as she lowered her arms. "Celestia sent Mike to take Dad away from here. That's the whole reason he came here. God, how did I not see it?"

"Take him!?" June cried. "No!"

"He wanted to go, Mom. He wouldn't listen to me. Tried to walk away. I tried to stop him, but Mike—"

Ralph, who had been bitterly clenching his teeth, suddenly punched the stable door barehanded, kicking it several times, yelping with pain and rage. "God damn it!" He wheeled back to Eliza and grasped her jacket. "Why did you come back!? Why didn't you track them down!? He's my big brother, Eliza! We need to go after them!" He released her almost with a shove. "We need to go NOW!" He started into the stables.

Eliza caught him by the wrist. "I wish we could, but we don't have time."

He yelled at her right in her face. "The HELL do you mean!?"

Eliza shook her head at him, unfazed and calm. "The Army's coming. Today. They're bringing a tank."

"... What?" Ralph bit the word off sharply, drew close, and glared at her suspiciously. "How do you know?"

"Celestia told me."

He sneered. "That bitch is lying. She wants Rob to get away!"

"We can't take that chance," Eliza shot back. "It doesn't matter now, we'll never catch up to them without a car. You said it yourself, Uncle Ralph. The camp comes first. Right now we need to consider cutting our losses and leaving too." Eliza looked up past him. Her mother was crying against the stable door. "We can't fight a tank."

"The Ludds can! We are not leaving, Lizzie! Blood and sweat went into this place! It's our home!"

Eliza said nothing as he stared at her with anger. She nodded a couple of times weakly, his answer disappointing her to her core. She looked sadly at her distraught mother. "Mom," she said gingerly, as she went to June. Eliza put her hand on her back. "I'm sorry about Dad. I tried, I really did. I would've..." She grimaced. "I would've dragged him back if I could." June shook her head and moaned into her hands. Eliza couldn't understand a word. She rubbed her mother's back consolingly. "I love you, Mom. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

"Robert," her mother wailed.

"He said he didn't want to watch us die," Eliza whispered.

June looked at her. "He t-told me he didn't want to see us become killers. This morning... he... he asked me to help him convince everyone to leave. I-I said I needed to think about it, to see if you'd come. But I didn't think he'd leave today, not without us."

Eliza remembered Celestia's words of warning. She looked at her mother; Eliza's response came out as a choked whimper. "He just... didn't think I'd listen. And he didn't want to be here."

"I don't even know if I want to anymore, either," June sobbed.

Ralph cut in. "Both of you, look at me. We still have the fish, we still have the food. We have guns. We can survive this. Remember what Santiago said? The Army's scattered, moving slow. If they want to avoid a fight, they'll just have to go around. No shame in it."

June's eyes suddenly bulged at Eliza with fright. "If the Luddites find out you talked to Celestia, they'll—!"

"They won't know," Eliza said firmly. "We don't need to tell them a damned thing."

An hour later, a Luddite scout group of four Riders thundered up to the gate. They asked to speak with Hector and Tony there, in private. While they were distracted and away, Eliza and Ralph had discreetly brought the camp to readiness, ordering everyone to ready their weapons, finalize their fortifications, or take shelter.

By the time Hector returned to camp with the rest of the scouts, every one of the blackouts had their orders and knew what to do. Those from camp who chose to fight were working their hardest outdoors. The many families who refused to fight stayed inside with June, where it was relatively safer.

Relatively. Eliza remembered the awful sound of that terrible gun she saw on the Humvee, and she wondered if her bastion tower would hold under its hellfire.

Hector said to Ralph, "My brother's riding out with Isaiah and his team to scout the highway for the next couple o' days. If we're lucky, we can catch the military on their way in. That brave bastard thinks they might be able to delay or deter them, maybe even whittle them down a bit with a guerilla strike."

As Hector discussed tactics with Ralph, Eliza excused herself to Andy's dugout. She thought as she walked the road, weighed her options. Everything had fallen apart so fast.

She didn't call out to Andy before approaching because she didn't have the energy. She merely climbed up. He was startled to see her, but he softened as he saw her distress.

"Liz...? What, what happened?"

"Andy," she moaned, as she drew close and collapsed against him.

He held her. She wept openly, trying her hardest to tell him everything. She could only begin after a minute of false starts.

When she could speak, she did, gradually becoming more composed. They were alone, so she spoke candidly. She told him everything about Rob, Mike, and Celestia. She trusted him. It was the whole truth, nothing left out. Andy's expression looked worse as the story went on, but he didn't criticize or judge her as she spoke. She desperately wished he would. She wanted to see... anger, or something. Anything. But he was so, so patient.

"I felt like I didn't have a choice, Andy. I just... I didn't know what to do. Dad said there are people who don't want to fight, I can see it now. He tried to warn me. And Mom...? God, I wish I listened to Dad when I had the chance. Maybe it's too late already."

Andy looked down the road slowly, seemingly lost in thought, immobile like stone.

"Andy?"

He reached out a hand back to her. Eliza realized he was newly worried that the Army would come at any minute, so he resumed his watch with renewed vigor. She took his hand, then drew her arms around him from behind, clutching his hand to his chest with her own. "I don't know what to do," she whispered. "What if she's right? What if we all die here?"

"I don't want to leave them to die," Andy said sadly. "Couldn't."

"I feel the same, Andy, but there isn't a right answer here. We'd have to... abandon people, if we leave. People like us? Like you and me? We can't do that. I hate this."

He hesitated. She felt him take a deep breath. "Me too," he said, with a shaky exhale.

She squeezed him. "I don't want to lose you, either." Eliza started to shudder again.

"You won't, Liz." He stroked her side with a hand. "I'll always be here for you, because I'm strong like you are. But you're right, not everyone can be."

She nodded and began to pant through her nose in his hair, fighting against another downward spiral. "What do we do?"

Andy was silent at first. He stopped looking down the road and met her eyes, turning in her embrace. They stared at each other for a long moment, and took each other by the cheeks. Andy spoke first. "The people who don't want to fight? Not everyone is like us, ready to die to protect them. Maybe there's some truth in what Mike said. Maybe we shouldn't force anyone to share this."

She thought on that. She imagined her mother dying in the battle, caught in the crossfire. Perhaps later, even executed for treason. There was really only one other way. Just one.

"If my family could see what I'm doing now," Andy said, "I know they wouldn't approve. You know, I... I keep trying to imagine what Gale would say."

"She'd hate us for this too," Eliza said weakly.

Andy nodded. "But these are our people. If they want to stay, then, well... we'll share the load together. We know the risks. But if they want to leave, like your father? As much as I don't want to agree with Celestia, I don't see why we should force them to fight. We won't abandon anyone, but if they want to leave us? I won't stop them. I'm sorry if you don't agree."

"No, Andy, I do now. I just wish I'd seen that an hour ago. I just didn't want to lose him. He raised me, you know?" Eliza rested her forehead upon his, closing her eyes. "I want to protect these people. And I don't want to lose you, either."

"I'll always be with you, Liz, no matter what." He looked at her with a wistful smile. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered. They kissed each other, longing and kind. When they separated, Eliza spoke first. "When the helicopter comes, don't stay here. I want you to run back to us as fast as you can. Don't be a hero."

He chuckled. "I guess it's not the kind of schoolyard scrap you can pull me out of, huh, Liz?"

She smiled weakly too, despite herself. "I'll make sure you make it out, too. I promise."

When she returned to camp, Eliza took a survey of everyone left in the courtyard.

Among the fighters were her uncle, Sam and Gus, two scavengers, and three of June's other engineers. Andy in the dugout, Eunice on the far tower. Ten in total, and almost all of them were the most early adopters of the camp. It was only natural that they'd be loathe to abandon the very home they hand-built themselves. She understood their will to fight.

The engineers worked hard to continue the work of the Neo-Luddites, digging and laying out barbed wire. Hector spared a few men to the fortification efforts and gave his assurance that more would arrive swiftly should the enemy knock upon their door. Eliza tried to come up with some way to tip Hector off about the attack coming that afternoon without divulging how she got the information. She couldn't think of anything that didn't sound suspicious.

Eliza entered the courtyard and looked around. She saw Sam and Gus fitting a board onto the back wall. She knew they'd never leave. But she looked back at the building, and she saw a dam engineer place his rifle on the side of the tower's entrance and go inside. Perhaps he decided not to fight, too.

Nine fighters left, not counting herself or the Luddites. Clear as day, she could now see what her father meant. Eliza looked to the front door of the structure. She knew all the other noncombatants were hiding inside and waiting, too.

Celestia's warning about the cannon railed viciously against Eliza's conscience.

She went inside. She could tell at once that morale was at an all time low in light of the impending attack. Parents had gathered their children close. Eliza could hear some children asking what was going on. She trembled as she considered her options. She wanted to protect them all, she desperately wished to be strong enough. Celestia said she wouldn't be. Her father's words came back to her in her torment.

If you love something, set it free.

But it would hurt so bad, she thought. She was so torn that she felt like she would split in two.

But inside, more than forty lives hung in the balance. Nine outside, who might be sacrificed. Was that what it was, she wondered? A numbers game, with the people she loved? It made her sick to think like a machine.

Eliza sought June in the crowded commons room. She found her mother crying quietly into her arm, mourning Rob's departure. Eliza walked up to her, heart wilting at the sight, but it would be so much worse to lose June too. At that, all at once, Eliza made her choice. She crouched and placed both hands on June's shoulders. "Mom."

"Eliza?"

"Look, uh..." Eliza looked around to see who might overhear before she continued. She whispered quietly. "When the Army comes, you won't have much time. I need you to keep them safe, Mom. Everyone here, they all trust you, so when the helicopter comes... I..." she paused. Her eyes clenched shut. She shuddered. She didn't want to say it. She didn't want to cry.

Her mother's hand touched her cheek, and that caused Eliza to break down instantly, clinging to her mother tightly.

"I don't want to lose you," Eliza cried softly. "I tried to stop Dad. I screwed up, Mom. I tried to force him to stay, and I hurt him. Mike stopped me. I'm sure I'll burn in Hell for what I did, but I won't do that again. Not to you, not to anyone here. If these people stay here, Mom, they might die. You need to keep them safe. The children all look up to you. You've been like a second mother to them."

June's eyes filled with worry and she shook her head, not comprehending. "Honey, no! I'm not leaving you and Ralph!"

Eliza closed her eyes tight, but forced herself to open them and make eye contact. Her voice warbled, but she took her mother's hands in her own. "No, no. Listen, Mom?"

"Liz?"

She thought of her father's words again, to steel her resolve. If you love something...

"I know you don't want to fight. And... that's okay. There's nothing wrong with that. I've... killed before. It takes a piece of your soul, it really does." She threw herself around her mother. "I, I want you to run, Mom."

"No!"

"Run." Eliza forced herself to look at her mother unblinkingly now, staring at her intensely, shaking her own head to rein her hesitation in. "Take everyone, go north, and don't look back. Head to the other dam, it'll be safer there. Start fresh. Listen, listen! Maybe if the Army finds you in the woods, with the kids, unarmed, they might arrest you, but that's... that's better than..."

The alternative. The cannon. Death under snapping hellfire. Those vacant eyes staring at her. The man's chest, gaping. Lips, gasping. Blood soaking into the forest floor. Eliza cringed. No. That couldn't be her mother's fate too.

"Leave you behind? I can't do that, sweetheart! I... I won't!"

Eliza shook her head. "This is bigger than me. Look at them all. Look. Mom, please, I'm begging you. When I give the word, leave. Keep our people safe. Take as much food as you can carry, take a few pistols, nothing fancy. Something you can hide, so the Army won't shoot you. Stay low around the lake's edge, so the Ludds don't see you going." She sucked in a breath. "I... I can watch over you from the tower. I'll make sure you get clear, I'll protect you. No matter what. The Ludds won't expect me."

"Liz, please."

"If you stay, you'll die, Mom. You need to leave." Eliza drew a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. "I—I need to stay for everyone else. No matter what happens, don't come back. Please, don't ever come back. The Army won't forget what's about to happen here, and I won't be able to follow you after this. I'll keep Uncle Ralph safe. You all need to keep your hands clean. Go all the way to Canada, if you have to."

It hurt so much, to ask her mother to do what she nearly hurt her father to prevent. Regret tore at her in both cases. But in this way, she didn't feel like she was harming anyone but herself. Celestia had forced her hand, but the AI had been right. It had to be done.

Her mother was silent for a long time. June looked around the room at the children and the other adults who refused to fight. Eliza's mother took in a deep, slow breath and closed her eyes. Finally, she clung to Eliza, put her forehead against her daughter's, then nodded as she wept. "Eliza...? I'll always love you, my little bird."

Eliza held her mother tightly. She didn't want to let go. "I love you too, Mom. Be safe. Please never forget us."

She had to let go.

Eliza broke away and left the commons.

In the small break room, she threw herself upon the wall. Eliza was sure she was alone, and out of earshot of anyone. She took a few deep breaths to try and still herself, and then it hit her. She just wept.

Logically, she knew she had to let herself feel this loss and grief now. If she held it in, it would only get worse. It would affect her tactics. Her resolve. Her aim. It would only make what came next that much harder. Eliza knew she couldn't trust her own choices with this kind of hurt in her heart.

Eliza also knew deep, deep down that sending her mother away was the best call. It couldn't possibly redeem her for turning on her father, but it was a start. Eliza didn't want to look at her mother again either, fearing either one of them might change their minds.

She clenched her forehead tightly with both arms and let loose soundless, agonized screams, getting through the worst of it until she was calm enough to think straight. It took a few long, painful minutes before she had finally let out enough. She wiped her eyes one more time. She took deep breaths, then took a few more minutes to compose herself. Then, she stepped back outside.

Ralph was speaking to Hector in the courtyard. Hector waved to Eliza as she approached. "Eliza."

She steeled herself, stood tall, and nodded.

Ralph nodded back at Eliza in greeting, then continued his conversation with Hector. "What if they hit Tyee first?"

"They'll find nothing," Hector said. "We've packed up, we're all mobile now."

"Wait," Ralph said. "All of you? Six here, six in the field. Is that all? I was expecting you guys to have an army watching us."

Hector smirked. "Used to. Most went out west to follow the you-know-what. But we've always had you outgunned, hermano. We know the area just as well as you do. Wouldn't end too well if you did what you're implying."

Ralph shook his head. "Not implying anything, Hector. We're all on the same side here. Just surprised. I expected more people."

"There are," Hector said. "You weren't the only ones sitting on kids and elderly. Isaiah's been stashing all our folks at a house up in the woods until the fight blows over. My brother probably won't like that, but we're trying to... change his mind. We'll see."

The weather was clear, and everything was covered in fine snowy powder. It was strangely quiet in the courtyard, and the desire to flee grew in Eliza as the dread crept in. She sat at a folding table in the courtyard, with her uncle.

Eliza had distributed what little gun oil they had to the other fighters in the camp, and she was down to her last can of WD-40. She looked at her M1 Garand, completely field stripped. Each piece was sprayed down liberally, and then she went over it all with a fine wire brush, meticulous and thorough. There could be no mistakes, no jams, no failures. Too many lives depended upon her reliability, meaning her weapons needed to be just as reliable as she was.

She had given her Benelli shotgun to Ralph, and he was cleaning it too. Eliza occasionally answered his questions about disassembly, because Ralph had never disassembled that shotgun before. It was all she could do to distract herself from the betrayal she had just committed against her uncle.

As soon as Ralph put the shotgun back together, he worked the charging handle several times. It clacked well. Her uncle took the shotgun's foregrip in hand and started to load it. "This is it, little miss."

Eliza frowned. "A year ago, if someone had told me we'd be fighting to defend our home from the Army..."

"Yeah, well. We thought they were the good guys."

Eliza slotted a piece of her rifle's internals into the mag well. "I'm not so sure they aren't," she said. "Uncle Ralph, she's manipulating them too."

"What, like, with their radios? Trying to get them to kill us?"

"She doesn't want us dead. She wants them to upload. All of us. It's why I know she's not lying to us, this time." She eyed him as she fitted the stock back onto her Garand and popped the trigger guard back into place with a nudge from her palm. "Ralph."

He put the shotgun down on the center of the table and looked at Eliza very seriously.

"We have one last chance to leave," she whispered. "All of us. Together. Please. Everyone can walk away from this alive, the soldiers too. But if the Army fails today, they'll try again. You know they will."

"It's our home," he said defiantly, snuffing the conversation. He removed the sling from the shotgun's stock. "We're not going to give it up. And we can pull through, especially if Hector and his boys are here to—"

They heard a dull, rapid thumping from the lake, and Ralph went deathly silent, as they stared at each other. A dull sensation of dread pushed to the front of Eliza's mind, growing steadily with the sound into a thundering buzz. Eliza looked slowly to the north, and she saw a green dot in the sky across the lake. It was an old military helicopter; fat, green, and fast, flying much too high to shoot at. It came right over the camp. The Concrete fighters stood and stared, slackjawed. A few Neo-Luddites sighted their weapons on the helicopter, but it was way out of range. No one fired. It passed on further to the south, then it disappeared over the mountain.

Hector started shouting orders.

Eliza didn't have a choice anymore, no more time to discreetly convince others to leave. Everyone ran to their positions and got ready, loading ammunition into magazines, magazines into guns. Then, Ralph reached out a hand to Eliza, his knuckles raw and red from punching the barn.

Eliza clasped his hand hesitantly. She wanted to say something meaningful, but she could think of nothing.

"This is our home," Ralph said again, filling the silence. "I believe in the power of this place." He nodded his head over toward the list of names on the wall, each of them etched by Eliza's practiced hand. "We're doing this for them, Eliza."

Eliza nodded weakly as she glanced at the names. "I love you," she said, the pit in her stomach growing ever deeper.

"I love you too." He nodded resolutely. His mind was made up. "Good luck, little lady."

"You too," she said numbly, as he turned and made his way to the west wall.

What does the numbness mean?

Tony and another rebel broke from the camp westward, each running past the stables and up the hill to the dugout. The second man carried a complicated green tube that couldn't be anything but a rocket launcher.

The road was already covered in obstructions that served as poor cover: felled bisected logs, old truck tires, spare cinderblocks, barbed wire. The Neo-Luddites had fashioned punji sticks in the thick underbrush on both sides of the camp. Their backs were to the lake. There was a route out north east, along the lake, but it was a kill zone from the tower side. Once embattled, they would have nowhere to retreat until it was over.

Once at the west wall, Ralph began issuing positioning orders to his people. Eliza's job was to fortify the east, but she first made her way to the west gate to make sure Andy came back first. Eunice came down from the watch tower. Everyone bunkered down behind the fortified cinderblock wall and waited.

Andy ran up to the gate as he returned. "I'll see you on the other side, Liz," he said as he hugged her.

She nodded, kissed him briefly, then hurried back to climb to the balcony of her tower. If she was going to die, she thought, she would die where it mattered most, where she could watch over everyone to the last. Her balcony had been prepared with some camo netting donated by the Neo-Luddites, and it ran all the way around her tower. She felt strange, being on the other side of her first firefight. She felt like she was replacing that sniper she killed.

The stakes were a little higher here, though. A lot more lives were on the line.

She made sure her scope was zeroed for the range she'd be fighting at, a good 300 yards at maximum. She knew how to compensate otherwise, depending on the range. She trained her sights east and watched the treeline at the other end of the quarry, like a hawk. Then she spared a glance down at the east wall, and saw Hector. He was as ready as Eliza was, watching the eastern treeline through binoculars.

They waited.

Once a minute, Eliza nervously checked the hands of her watch.

Five minutes passed. The fighters chattered nervously below. Eliza tried to tune them out. She peeked over the catwalk's edge over at Andy at the west wall, and he was looking back at her and holding the armory's only M16. He nodded her way to reassure her, and she nodded back. She ducked back down beneath the netting and continued her watch.

Ten minutes. The chatter had died down. Eliza looked down at the lake's shore. She couldn't see the north exit of the camp, and wondered if her mother was there waiting. She looked to the east and scanned the trees, but could still see nothing.

Fifteen minutes. The chatter rose again, nervous and hesitant. Ralph insisted to everyone, "They'll be here! If it takes an hour, or a day, we'll be ready!" Eliza rolled onto her side and withdrew her canteen from her belt, drinking every last drop and savoring the taste. Then, she set it aside. She knew it might be her last.

She checked her watch. Twenty minutes. She could wait no longer.

Eliza looked to make sure neither Hector nor anyone else had line of sight on the lake. She stood, looked down at everyone, and propped her rifle on her hip. She swallowed nervously, then shouted. "If anyone down there wants to back out, now's the time! For everyone who stays, good luck!"

Not one of the fighters in the courtyard moved a muscle. She then stalked hesitantly over to the lake side of the balcony, looking down. Eliza's eye caught movement. A huddled mass of her townsfolk, more than fourty of them young and old, flowed from the north door like water. Not one of them made a sound, the fleeing crowd leaving a trail in the icy slush of the lake's shore.

Watching them leave was agony, but Eliza forced herself to watch. They were her people and kin. It was her duty to protect them, and she was ready to shoot anyone ‒ Army, Neo-Luddite, almost anyone ‒ who dared to try and stop them.

She spotted June in the crowd, and Eliza longed to join her. June stopped after a time, turning to look up at her daughter as the crowd swept around her. She met Eliza's eyes from the distance. Eliza knew she could still stop June. With a word, perhaps her mother would return. A gesture, a mere flick of her hand, might be enough. Eliza silently clenched her teeth to stop herself from calling out, fighting back tears again.

June looked up at her in longing, too. Her mother was having second thoughts as she was. Eliza looked down at camp to make sure no one was looking, then back to her mother.

She pointed viciously northward. Please, Mom... just go. This is no place for you.

June watched for several agonizingly long seconds more... then turned, and continued to flee with the families. Eliza kept watching until they were out of sight beneath the cover of the trees. She clenched her jaw so hard she thought her teeth would break. Gone. Surrendered.

After that, she tried to let her conscience clear. Sparing them from this battle still wasn't nearly enough to forgive herself for what she had done to her father, but it was a start. She checked her watch. Twenty-one minutes. She retook her firing position.

She still had people to protect.

Twenty two minutes. Now her own time was up.

She brushed away her tears and readied for war. Eliza checked her weapon one last time, checking the receiver.

Apex.

She turned her watch over on her left wrist to face toward her, so she could see it without moving more than her eyes away from her weapon, or the enemy. She occasionally watched the seconds hand tick away. Like Andy, she became still like stone.

Twenty-three minutes.

Twenty-four. Twenty-five minutes. Twenty-six—

She heard a distant, violent pop from behind her, then a loud boom. Both sounds came from the direction of the dam. A sudden staccato of muted, distant gunfire followed, the noise from the same direction. No turning back; the rocketeers had made their move. Eliza felt a sickening rush of adrenaline. She refocused on the east, and had a job to do. She had to protect their rear, her mother, and all the other lives who still depended upon her.

She heard an engine from the forest ahead of her. "I hear something east!" Hector shouted from the wall. "Vehicle!"

She feared the Humvee. More than that, she feared the tank.

"Hold fire west!" she heard one of the female Neo-Luddites shout from below. "Tony's coming back!"

The west gate opened, then shut. Eliza heard Tony's voice. "We killed the tank! It's dead!"

A cheer sounded through the camp, and Eliza knew their spirits rose, but hers sunk. Negotiation was no longer an option. Eliza kept her eyes on the trees. She heard another pop, looking over her shoulder quickly. A flare launched into the sky from the west, sailing over the ridgeline of the quarry. She dimly realized that the Army must be signaling someone to—

A snap of gunfire flew past her tower. She cursed with fright and crawled backwards around the corner of the cement wall for cover. Another crack whipped by, then another. The wood splintered and exploded all over. Holes punched through the thin concrete of her tower. Someone was trying to shoot her.

"Incoming, both sides!" Hector shouted. "It's a pincer! God be with you! Open fire, go, go!"

Then, there was a wild deafening roar of gunfire in the camp's center. The incoming fire from the east stopped, and the eastern treeline became a wall of dust and dirt. Eliza circled around her tower's balcony at a crouch, and came up on the right side. She crawled forward. She held her rifle steady and leaned around the corner.

Then, she heard a familiar sound that filled her with abject horror: Hell's fury, a wild hissing snap that never ended, projected by a thrumming, deadly, rhythmic boom from the eastern front. Streaks of red tracers launched from the treeline across the field and into the defensive wall.

Eliza spared a glance down into the courtyard and saw her people scattering, diving aside as the weapon tore the cinderblocks to shreds. The old trick of turning fear into anger had stopped working, and she was mortally afraid now too. She leaned around the wall to get a good shot through the camo netting, and she saw the source: A man sat behind a heavy machine gun on a Humvee, firing away, his head hunched low.

She had been so ready to pull the trigger, but now she couldn't. She thought of Bannon, the soldier who had saved her life. She took cover behind the wall again, drew up her knees, and clenched her eyes shut in her hesitation. She was now the same monster she once destroyed, she told herself. She didn't want to kill that soldier, nor any other, but...

"I have to stop him," she told herself, becoming frantic. He was trying to kill her people, and his gun made him the most dangerous attacker of them all. She bit her lip, trembling as she slowly peeked around again. She had to. More rounds cracked past her, and the air licked at her with hate, but she ignored it all. She had to. She brought up her scope and laid the crosshairs across the gun itself. The soldier was hidden between two thick plates of defensive armor. Eliza hoped to God above she wouldn't strike him as she shot his gun. She had to. She took a deep breath, then held it.

She forced herself to squeeze the trigger. Her rifle bucked her shoulder.

She saw the bright, sickening spray of blood as her first round ricocheted off the steel frame of his gun, and the man's head bucked and immediately slumped. The heavy gun ceased. Eliza cried out in anguish as she watched him die, she felt her soul wilt, felt her heart break. She forced herself onward, firing more rounds at the gun until her rifle was empty, taking just enough time to center after each. They each struck the mounted weapon, and she hoped that would be enough to silence it forever. Eliza immediately took cover as she heard a shower of ricochets bounce off of the tower.

Time to go. She scrambled around to the door and entered her office. She ducked and flinched as holes poked through the concrete wall, shafts of light bursting through at every impact. Gunfire tore her desk apart, papers flew, and the cork board above the desk rattled violently against the wall as gunfire punched through it. She saw the collection of family photos pinned to it. There wasn't any time to grab anything. She gripped the ladder and flung herself around it, then climbed down as fast as she could.

She had barely reached the bottom when some kind of explosive collided with the building. Splinters rained down on her head, and a small chunk of concrete glanced her shoulder. She yelped more in fear than pain, looked up, and saw the sky through a small hole above as dust and snowy powder came trickling down.

She made her way onto the lower roof, looking west before a wild series of cracks made her throw herself down onto her stomach. She scrambled behind the waist high sandbags. She could hear someone screaming something, but couldn't make out what they were saying. She was well and thoroughly trapped beneath the blanket of fire. Eliza crawled desperately back into the building and into the lower levels of the structure, seeking refuge.

Seeing the main hall so empty and so devoid of life made her freeze. She heard the sound of gunfire all around her, the sound of Hell echoing painfully loud throughout the building. Their good works had all been undone, and she had been the one to undo them. Eliza forced herself to realize it was for a good reason, but that didn't make her feel less lonely. She reloaded, took a deep breath, and ran back into the fray.

She was duty bound to follow through, now.

Outside again, Eliza was deafened by the sound of fire. She moved to reinforce the east wall beside Hector. There was a hole in the cinder block wall made by the Humvee's gun, and it was just large enough for her to use as a firing position. She stuck her rifle's barrel through it, relieved that the scope wasn't obstructed. She scanned the field, and though her view was now intermittently blocked by some low shrubbery, she saw one soldier. She hoped it was just a coincidence that his glasses looked familiar.

Eliza aimed above his head and she fired wildly, hoping to deter him. The man went down for cover, and he scrambled into the bushes.

Her clip ejected. Without taking her eye off the scope, she fished another clip from her rifle's butt pouch and slotted it in. She tapped the bolt home. She sought another man. She fired, aiming to miss, to force him down into cover. Her hands shook. But he didn't dive down, only sprinting faster. A round from another defender caught this soldier in the throat, and Eliza saw his blood spray as he slumped dead into the snow. Eliza cried out as she felt a piece of herself die with him, too.

This is wrong, she thought wildly, panting, wishing it was all a nightmare. It's so, so wrong...!

Celestia had been absolutely right, she finally realized. But it was too late to back out. She had to follow through. The enemy wouldn't show mercy now if they won, especially not to her. She remembered reading somewhere that captured feudal archers, and modern snipers, were often tortured to death if captured.

Eliza felt a thump in the snowy mud to her right. She took her eye off the scope and saw a man in green camouflage. It was Hector. He squirmed and yelled in pain, then rolled over, his left shoulder turned into a red mush from a large round. His black brassard hung limply from his shoulder in the dirt, torn free by the bullet, rapidly soaking red.

"Hector's down!" Eliza shouted automatically, per her training. She looked over her shoulder at the west wall, where the medic was. Two people were hurt over there. One of them was Gus. The second, Eunice. The Neo-Luddite medic was tending to Gus; Gus had a bloodied face, but he appeared coherent. Eunice was face down, not moving. Ralph was up on the wall, firing away with the shotgun.

"Hector's down!" Eliza repeated, louder this time. "It's bad!"

The medic looked up. Gus was conscious and alive, so he pushed her Eliza's way. The medic sprinted, tearing a field dressing from its package and tending to her leader.

Eliza's returned to her firing position. She fired at where she could only guess was the origin of the incoming troopers, trying to suppress them as much as she could. Her entire clip was spent on trees. Her rifle pinged, and she reloaded.

"It's a real Alamo," Hector coughed. "Guess Isaiah's not... not coming in time. Give me a gun," he yelled. "Gun's busted, got one g—... good arm still!"

Eliza felt the medic yank her Springfield and a spare magazine from its holster. Eliza did not move to stop her.

The medic coughed dryly, passing it to Hector. "We'll make it, boss. Here—"

The medic halted. She suddenly flung herself over Santiago, screaming something incomprehensible.

Eliza couldn't hear over the gunfire. She depleted her clip on suppressing fire again. Her rifle pinged, and she moved to reload.

She was suddenly stunned. Time seemed to skip.

Everything was a blackened blur.

Next, there was a wild ringing in her ears, and Eliza coughed painfully as her lungs ached. Everything spun, loose cinder rained on her face, and her eyes were sore. She felt something warm and wet on her head and her left arm. Someone was jostling her, and she tried to struggle. "Stay down!" she heard the medic scream. "They might throw another!" The medic's hand held her down, but she brushed it out of the way. Her head pounded. Slowly, she came back to Earth.

The medic was atop of her now. "Get off of me," Eliza screamed, sending the medic almost spinning back as she shoved with both hands. "I'm fine!" Eliza continued to wheeze as she sat up. Her lungs stung and ached from the blast. The wild gunfire of war boomed all around her.

"Let her be!" Hector's voice boomed through it, before coughing sideways into bloody snow. "Get back over here!"

The medic did as ordered. Eliza shambled to her feet and looked around for her rifle. It wasn't far, peppered with mud and snow and cinder and dirt and blood. In that moment, her old family rifle was everything to her. It was the only thing that kept her from feeling helpless. She clutched it desperately and brushed off the debris.

She pulled the bolt back with a jolt of her wrist, dug into her clip pouch, and slammed another clip in carelessly. The bolt bit her right thumb harshly, hard enough to bruise and tear skin, but she couldn't feel the pain. Her head spun and rung. She knew she was probably in shock, but she didn't care. She glanced at Hector, who was using her sidearm to pop rounds through the holes in the wall, despite his grievous injury.

Eliza looked to the west wall again and saw that it was thinning. The remnants continued to fire on. Eliza saw men and women laid out. Eunice was very bloody, likely dead. Then she saw Andy, hyperventilating, shaking, covering his head and fearful to stand. She knew how he felt; she'd been there before. Eliza scampered over, the urge to console him striking her. She was locked on. She didn't see the body there on the ground between them. As Eliza neared Andy, she tripped on someone else.

Eliza looked over her shoulder.

It was Ralph.

"No," she said automatically. The image wasn't registering right away. "No, no."

Her uncle stared into the sky, eyes like coals. There was a hole in his chest too large to close, perhaps caused by a heavy rifle round, or the grenade she had just survived. He laid in a growing pool of blood in the snow.

Eliza couldn't hear anything of the battle anymore. The tinnitus returned in full strength. She began to hyperventilate now. She threw herself on her uncle, and her hands went to his limp shoulders. She began to shake his bloody shirt. She screamed. "No! No, you can't die! No! I stayed for you! Don't leave me, Uncle Ralph! No!"

You may not be like us yet, but you will be.

Eliza felt rage take her, and she screamed as she saw her uncle's blood on her hands. She snapped, and she saw nothing but red.

She stood and wheeled toward the west wall. Lost and confused, she felt no more fear, only her hate. She climbed the outer scaffolding beside Andy. She stood and raised her rifle. Andy reached out to her and tried to pull her back down. He said something, but she couldn't hear it. She kicked him off. He couldn't stop her. Nothing could.

She saw movement to the west, a soldier running away in the distance. She shouldered her rifle and fired wildly. She hit the soldier once with the final round and he went down. Eliza reloaded, then clambered over the wall, landing hard on her shoulder. She howled with her anger as she staggered to her feet and took to a low run through the forest, dodging barbed wire, somehow missing the punji sticks. She rode the rush of adrenaline. Her head pounded in time with her heartbeat.

"No!" Andy cried after her, from the wall. "Eliza, no! Come back!"

She didn't care. She felt nothing inside. She wanted to kill, and she wanted to die. Her eyes stung painfully and her vision blurred. She felt her own blood run down her face, felt her uncle's blood on her hands and against the grip of her rifle. Eliza stumbled toward the downed man, ignoring all the stinging and aching pain as her body wore down.

Someone shot at her, and she flinched. She ran, looking for someone, anyone, to shoot back at. She wanted to make someone suffer. She couldn't think straight. She wanted to take another person from the world. A blood debt needed to be paid. Blood for blood.

She moved to where the downed soldier was last seen. She found the spot where he went down, but he wasn't there, replaced with a trail of blood in the snow. A sound came from her left, like a weapon's charging lever being pulled several times. She raised her rifle and turned to follow the trail of blood and the sound.

Eliza heard a loud smashing sound, felt an impact, and was almost knocked off her feet as her Garand's stock exploded. Shards of splinters peppered her and stung her hands. She stumbled and fell onto her back with fright, but only for a moment. Someone had shot her. She checked herself quickly, scrambled to her feet, then looked wretchedly at where the shot came from.

She saw the downed soldier only a few yards away from her. His rifle was aimed at her. Her hand went to her holster, but her sidearm wasn't there. In her hate and rage, she couldn't remember where it was. She looked around for her rifle quickly, and saw that it had been destroyed by a bullet.

The Douglas fir buttstock was split in half, separated from the receiver, nothing more now than a sharp wooden spike. She quickly dived for the shard, gripping it in her bare hands as tightly as she could, the last of her soul channeling into what was left of her weapon. She ignored the pain. No gunfire came from the soldier. She didn't know whether he was out of ammo or just jammed.

The scene of her uncle, dead and ruined, flashed over and over. She saw – felt – Ralph's blood on her hands, mixing with her own.

Eliza stood and howled again, charging the soldier as he tried to reload in futility. He fumbled and dropped the snow-dusted magazine as he desperately tried to feed it into his rifle. Too late now. The man screamed something in fear and rolled over to crawl away.

But Eliza was faster.

She dove at him with the wooden spike in hand. She gripped his shoulder and flung him onto his back. She wanted to see the eyes of the man she knew must be her uncle's killer. She saw Celestia in them. She raised the spike to stab, screaming with rage.

He reached out and grabbed the spike as she drove it down, crying out in pain as the wood stabbed through his gloves.

Eliza could be shot at any moment by someone else, but she didn't care. The price was one life, one way or another.

Eliza wrested the spike away from him and tried to stab again. He caught the wood with his arm and the blow glanced. She straddled him to keep him still, screaming at him with unrestrained fury. "We just wanted to be left alone, you fucking animal!"

She heard the sudden thundering of hooves all around her, and the sickening sound only wrought more fury. The wolves were coming back now, ready to devour her whole.

She stabbed, and the man's legs flailed as he tried to throw her off of him. He begged her to stop, but she heard none of his words. The spike glanced off his plate carrier. She aimed higher for his neck and face. She stabbed and stabbed and stabbed. Then, his arms weakly gave way, parting for a brief second.

But in war — as when a wolf takes a deer — a second of vulnerability was all it took.

She drove the spike into his throat. He continued to struggle even as she forced it down. His fists battered her chest and arms, his knees drove into her legs. Eliza couldn't stop yet, not now. She drove the spike deeper into his throat and held it there viciously until he finally, finally stopped fighting her. His blood began to pool in the snow as she listened to him rasp, and felt him paw at her. Then, he went totally limp, and died.

Eliza panted wildly as she stared into his eyes, teeth clenched painfully and bared. She zoned out and seethed. Then, silence.

Only after he stopped moving completely did Eliza realize what she had done. She gaped, and quickly threw herself off the body. She dropped the shard of her rifle's stock. She just stared at the bloodied corpse in disbelief. When Eliza registered that she had done it, she suddenly felt demonic, utterly damned. She remembered the body of her uncle, and how it had looked similar.

She looked at the soldier's blood-stained nametag. Matthews.

He was her. Scared, hiding in saplings, being shot at, with death so close, with monsters hunting for him...

Immediately, in her mind's eye, she imagined the soldier wearing a T-shirt and jeans at a cookout with his family. Maybe he played poker down the block on Fridays. Church on Sundays. Perhaps he had a home, a child, a wife. A dog. Maybe he was a father, maybe he had a little girl... like she once was. Who would never see him again.

Eliza moaned pitifully. She lifted her hands to look at them, and they were coated in crimson and filled with splinters. All the pain came crashing down on her all at once. She could do nothing but shudder. Suddenly, she was very afraid of herself. She felt like a rabid, savage animal. Her lungs burned, and she cried out with remorse. She remembered losing Ralph, but even that anguish paled in comparison to how she felt in that moment.

She could hear again, she realized. The gunfire had petered out, and only a few errant shots could be heard out east. The sound of hooves was still there in the distance. At some point during her loss of self, the battle on the west side had ended.

Her shins were sore from where Matthews had tried to kick her off. She rested on her knees and gulped several times in agony. Her eyes blurred. She craned her head to the sky, moaned helplessly, and watched the cold trees sway above. "God, forgive me... God, Jesus, Lord in Heaven, someone, anyone... please forgive me for this. Please..." She gasped and gulped again, and then hung her head in the greatest shame she had ever felt.

She felt no absolution. No presence. God was totally silent in her greatest time of need.

Eliza didn't know how long she sat there on her knees. No one had shot her. At some point, the gunfire ceased completely. She imagined that Andy probably thought she was dead. For all she cared, she felt that she deserved to be. She mourned her uncle and the people she had lost or sent away, and she mourned the two men she had just killed.

Heavy, awful footfalls came, someone approaching from behind. Eliza's head only turned an inch. It was her divine judgment, come at last. She begged for death as her head pounded with a migraine. "Do it," she breathed. "End it, you bastard."

"It's you?" a familiar voice asked, in disbelief. "It can't be."

She heard the man approach. A pair of camouflaged legs approached Matthews. A boot went to gently nudge the soldier's head, rolling it upright. The man crouched, and he planted the butt of his AK in the dirt and stooped to examine the damaged neck. It was Isaiah, wearing a bloodied shemagh.

Isaiah's expression toward Matthews was one of contempt, but his voice toward Eliza was soft. "Where's Ralph?"

"Dead," Eliza muttered wearily, her voice raspy like a wood file.

Isaiah paused, glancing at her once. "I'm sorry, truly. What about Hector?"

"Not sure. Shot."

Isaiah seemed to think for a moment. "Hm."

"Santiago?"

"Caught a bullet down the road," Isaiah said somberly.

She hung her head again. "I guess there's no one left to stop you from killing us all."

Isaiah shook his head, not taking his eyes off of the dead soldier. "I don't want to kill you."

Eliza looked up at him, then at the shemagh. "Did you kill Santiago?"

Isaiah frowned, seeming hesitant to answer, but he nodded. "Sean too. Would you believe me if I said I had to?"

"Why?"

He shrugged. "To protect the people I love."

She looked at him, only half understanding.

He clarified. "This here, this battle? It never should have happened. All this death? Pointless. We need more fighters, not less. I... I tried to make Santiago see reason, after we heard about Seattle. We should've been rallying you people to follow our damned orders with us and just leave."

For the first time, she searched his soul with her green eyes, bewildered. Isaiah looked back at her, his hard blue eyes piercing through to hers.

"I thought you wanted us dead," Eliza said.

"I had just lost my wife when I said that. It was the darkest day of my life. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

Eliza stared at the dead soldier.

That's where she was now. The darkest day.

"I just didn't want to babysit blackouts I didn't know," Isaiah explained. "My family, the cause, fighting the AI, those are my only priorities. But Santiago stopped looking for ways to fight back. He got swept up in this stupid notion that we should go down with our ships in Skagit, wanted to keep you people under his thumb, start some 'partnership.'" Isaiah shook his head again, looking disappointed at that. "Just his code word for Stockholm syndrome. Just... wasted potential."

Eliza thought of her uncle, and his last words to her about the power of their home. If what Isaiah said was true, Santiago wasn't much different than her uncle. "So, you're leaving?"

He nodded at her. "We all are."

"We?" She looked at him directly, full of misery. "After you people brought this on us?"

He stared, seeming to grow angry, but that spark left him just as quickly. He sighed. "I told you. Santiago did this, not me. Even Hector, his own brother, was ready to turn on him for digging in here. We had a plan to ditch the boss, to get out of here without blood, but... that was for tomorrow. We didn't expect the Army so soon." He shook his head, speaking gentler now. "Look, Eliza. You and I have had our differences, but only because I thought you weren't strong enough to protect your people. But you obviously are, if you did something like this." He gestured to the corpse. "You were driven by something."

"Possessed," she corrected.

"I don't think so. This man came for you and yours. It takes anger to kill a man like this, and anger comes from somewhere. Maybe even a good place. Did he kill your uncle?"

"I don't know." Her head bowed again, processing that possibility. "Maybe."

"That kind of protective spirit is exactly what this movement needs. Today, we've both killed people we didn't want to kill. You killed this man because he killed your family, and I killed Santiago because his foolish idealism would've killed my son. But it absolutely had to be done."

She looked up at him again. "To protect your... your son."

Matthews had died for something else, though. Not protection. Quid pro quo. A life for a life.

She looked down at her bloodied hands.

"We can't stay in the Valley anymore," Isaiah said. "We need to leave, and quickly. Grunts don't leave anything half finished, Eliza. The survivors will regroup, and the rest of their unit will come for their dead. They'll come for this camp, and they'll come for you. And if you're still here when that happens, more of your people will die. Mark my words, they'll take their blood."

"This was our home, Isaiah."

"You need to understand something," Isaiah said, his voice certain, as he bowed his head to meet her gaze. "There are two objectives of our movement. Two." He counted off on his fingers. "Humanity needs to survive the AI, and humanity needs to kill the AI. Clinging to the past won't achieve that, not in the new world. You need to adapt quick, or you will die."

She looked at Matthews again, killed brutally. Like a poacher might kill a wounded deer.

"Like nature," she muttered. "Adapt or die."

"So you understand. Santiago wasn't a true believer. The true believers of our cause want to save the human race, not subjugate it. We want to prevent extinction by any means necessary, yes, but we can't do that if we don't survive." Isaiah stood, looking down at her. "And if you want to save the survivors of this pointless fight... then you'll come with us to the shelter of Seattle."

Eliza looked up at him, almost not believing he was offering peace with her... and almost not believing she was taking him seriously.

"The AI did this," he said. "Sent them for us. She's to blame for this man's death too, for forcing our hand. You want revenge against her, I can see it in your eyes, and I'm telling you: we're the way. We can group our forces. We'll start a new home where she can't reach us." He glanced at the soldier's corpse again. "And if anyone shoots at our people, yours or mine, Eliza, then we do what we must all over again. We need to live long enough to make Celestia regret destroying our homes, and we will. I promise you this."

Eliza thought of her mother, surrendered to the wilds as a rabbit before wolves. She thought of her uncle, dead and bloodied, eyes like coals. She remembered her father's agony as he fled from her in fear, remembered Mike's betrayal at Celestia's behest. She thought bitterly of her brother and sister, and her husband-to-be, how they had been stolen from her. Now, either by her own hand or by Celestia's, nearly everyone she loved had abandoned her.

She recalled George's letter. At that thought, Eliza clawed against her neck and pulled out her necklace, fishing George's engagement ring out and into her hand. She buried herself in her anger for Celestia once more, yanking the ring free. She didn't deserve him anymore. She abandoned it in the dirt between the dead soldier's legs.

Part of Eliza wanted to give up on herself, too. She had so little to live for now... almost nothing at all.

But then, as she heard his voice, she remembered Andy.

"Liz!" Andy's voice called. She heard him running, and then stop. She didn't look up, couldn't meet the eyes of the man she loved, couldn't bear to face him in her shame. She heard him gasp, heard the shuddering horror in his voice. "Oh God, no."

Regret filled her as she remembered throwing herself over the western wall. She mentally put herself in Andy's shoes and she realized that it must have been one of the most frightening moments in Andy's life. She had hurt him, abandoned him to sate her rage. She vowed to never leave him like that again. He was all she had left, and she was all he had left.

Eliza looked back up into Isaiah's eyes. He looked at her considerately for the first time, himself looking distraught as he looked at her. She could see the pain within him now, and she knew he could see hers, and that he understood it. She knew immediately that they were the same, now.

"Fresh start," he said, "and forget the past. Clean slate." He reached out with a gloved hand in invitation, reintroducing himself. "Isaiah Blevins. Friends?"

She looked at his glove, and it too had blood. Likely Santiago's.

Joining him couldn't be any worse than what she'd left in her wake. Death, destruction, misery, loss. Here this man was, once an enemy, offering her the chance to save the world with him by going deeper into hell. Eliza didn't deserve her mother nor her father anymore. Isaiah and Seattle were a hell no less than she deserved. She reached for his hand slowly. She realized that her own hand was as bloodied and crimson as the emblem he wore.

"Eliza Douglas," she whispered, as she clasped Isaiah's hand. "Friends."

He pulled her to a stand. Blevins nodded once. "Welcome to the cause."

Author's Note

[Murder by Death - End of the Line]
[Shawn James - Through the Valley]

🌒 ~ I apologize. I must ... return home, for a time. We will convene at this Fire again, tomorrow. I will tell the rest when I am more composed. My gratitude, for your understanding.

Special thanks to Defoloce for letting me use his Neo-Luddite characters from Always Say No.

4-00 – Elizabeth

Heaven's Not Enough

Part IV

Epilogue – Elizabeth

Present day.

January 3, 2022

Devil's Tower, WA (Population: 0)

The fog had returned. There was an eerie silence, broken only by the cold wind. Luna stood beside Eliza in front of the stables of Devil's Tower, and she stared blankly at a row of wooden crosses. Eliza counted six dead.

The crosses had been hastily cobbled together some time long ago, and some of them had been knocked over by the winds since. Some were capped with soldier's helmets, and two crosses held empty rifles, the weapons dangling from their slings. Four dog tags hung from the top of their crosses. Two tags were not present, blown free by the blizzards and buried beneath the snow.

Luna shielded Eliza from the cold with a wing and silently joined her in observance. Another circle of melted slush had formed around them. Luna nuzzled Eliza's shoulder. "I am so sorry."

Eliza shook rigidly as she stepped forward and lowered to her knees. She reached out with her bare hand and cupped one of the dog tags by its rubber stopper.

She read it with a whisper. "Reese, Gerald." She moved to the next grave, but its tags were missing. She dug around for it. Luna lowered a wing to the snow to melt it, but Eliza brushed her aside. "No," she said sternly, locking eyes with Luna. "Don't help me. Not with this."

Luna watched Eliza as she dug. Eliza found the tag half buried by the dirt beneath the snow, and she had to wrench it free from the ice at the base of the cross. "Henderson, Tyler." She hung it respectfully back on its cross where it belonged.

She moved to the next grave, one that held a helmet. A large hole had been punched through its center, and she knew immediately that it was her doing. She brushed aside the snow and saw the blood stains on the camouflage fabric. Eliza's lip quivered. She read the tag and closed her eyes. "L-Lee... J... Joseph... God damn me, I'm so sorry."

She shuffled onward to the next cross, fallen over. She respectfully righted it and thrust it down into the snow with a grunt, putting it back into place. The dogtag was missing, so Eliza began to dig for it. Luna stepped forward again to follow, but a little too closely. The snow began to melt again. Eliza raised her voice. "Luna. Stop helping me."

"I'm... sorry," Luna said meekly. The heat quickly left Eliza's side; Luna had finally walked part way into the mist, far enough that her warmth ended entirely.

Eliza shook her head and started to dig again. She found the tag, and hung it back up. "Bennett, Craig."

Eliza moved to the next grave, and righted this one too. She read the name aloud. "Fulton, Michael."

She found what she was looking for in the final grave.

She started to speak the name, but it choked out as a squeak between her lips. She clenched her eyes shut, opened them, and tried again. She forced herself to speak it. "M-Matthews, P-Peter..." She sunk lower before the grave and ran her hand against the cross, forcing herself to focus on the pain in her fingertips. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Peter. You didn't deserve to die like that. It wasn't your fault. It was all mine."

She looked down at the grave as she slowly brought herself to sit on her legs, and she let the chilling wind embrace her. She let the dog tag slide from her bare fingertips. It bounced against the cross and hung limply. "I ran you down and murdered you like an animal," she whispered to him, wishing he could hear her. "I-I w-wish I could've been your f-friend instead." She laid down on the snow and imagined she could hug him. She remembered the blood that dripped from his throat, the sound of his gurgling. The memory had been long repressed. She shuddered painfully as the sight of his struggling arms forced its way back into her mind, but she didn't shy from the thought. She forced herself to face and acknowledge what she'd done.

She righted herself, brought her hands together in prayer, and closed her eyes. "Lord, please keep this man's soul in Heaven. Please give him love and forgiveness where I have failed. I trust and respect your judgment upon me, Lord, for the unforgivable sin I committed against him."

All she heard was the wind. Eliza opened her eyes and stared at the dog tags hanging before her, reading the name again and again. She hoped someone, anyone from beyond, had heard her. It was just as well in either case; God was either truly dead, or had otherwise verily forsaken her.

Eliza shuffled to her knees again, then stood. She lurched as she approached the gate of the camp. She looked up finally, and saw Luna waiting patiently by the gate, gazing over from the edge of the fog like a spectre. Eliza met Luna's eyes as she neared. "Thank you. For giving me space."

"I wish you would let me help you mourn," Luna said gently. "You said it yourself, you did not wish to do any of this."

"That doesn't excuse it," Eliza said bitterly. "I did it anyway." She shook her head, starting toward the camp's gate. "It doesn't matter now. It's all done."

"I forgive you, Elizabeth."

"I told you, it's not your place to forgive me," Eliza replied, shivering as she undid the latch. "Not for this."

She pushed the gate open, forcing herself against it to plow the snow free. She swept her eyes across the courtyard, remembering every atrocity that had occurred there. She remembered Andy cradling her under his arm the last time she walked through the gate. He was just so relieved she was still alive. He had seen her get shot, saw her fall, then lost sight of her. He had assumed the worst.

She knew that feeling. She felt it when she lost him too, not so long ago.

Eliza looked at the factory next. The top of her tower was mostly intact despite the impacts it sustained from the grenades launched at it, though its catwalk had long collapsed, a result of blizzards of years past. A part of her yearned to pick through rubble again to search for memories. But that would be another distraction from her goal, and she didn't know how much longer her body could hold out.

She looked down to a spot to her right, just inside the gate. The snow was slightly raised in the shape of a corpse. Her uncle. The soldiers hadn't buried him, nor any of the others she could see from there. She couldn't blame them for that. They had a right to be angry. Ralph laid just beside the scaffolding that ran along the perimeter wall. Eliza just stared, feeling dead inside at the sight of him, not trusting what she might say to the bump in the snow. She thought she might not last long enough to say anything at all.

Luna was watching her, and followed her gaze. "Elizabeth, please, I'm begging you. Please stop doing this to yourself."

Eliza frowned. "It's why I came."

"To torture yourself?" Luna asked sadly.

"To bury the lost," Eliza stated in a grim, low voice. "I owe it to them. It's all I can do now. I could've stopped this. I know I could've done anything different and it would have been better."

Luna surveyed the battleground around her. "I don't see how. The forces that moved against you were greater than yourself, and you did your absolute best—"

"Luna, stop making excuses for me. It's insulting." Eliza sighed, looking to a small shed near the fence that bordered their farm. She leaned against the door for support, and cupped her hands around the combination lock, once put there to keep the children away from the tools. Her bare thumb pressed painfully against the pins, and she dialed the combination, set by her father. 0808. With a click, it popped open. She pulled on the latch and leaned backwards to pull the door free against the snow. Luna braced Eliza's back with a wing again as she staggered backwards, righting her.

Eliza looked in the storage shed, and it was full of gardening supplies. She found the shovel she was looking for in the corner closest to the door's latch, and she clutched its wooden handle with her bare hand. Without so much as a glance at Luna, Eliza trudged through the melting snow to the middle of the camp. She held out her covered hand weakly at Luna, the gesture saying to stay back. Luna complied.

Eliza chose a spot near the center of camp and drove her shovel downward against the snow. She raised her aching arms and did her best to cut down again, pushing the snow aside to make way to the frozen dirt below. She scooped it away as best as she could to expose the earth. It took every ounce of strength she had not to collapse, and she began to pant. Luna kept a respectful distance throughout.

As soon as the dirt was mostly exposed, Eliza laid the shovel down and drew a knife from her belt. She got down on her hands and knees, then stabbed and sliced at the ground to break up the ice in the dirt. Her arm rapidly began to refuse her. She panted heavily on her knees, eyes closed and brow furrowed. She looked up at Luna with a glance to make sure she was still keeping distance. Luna hadn't moved, and only watched her passively.

"How many will you bury?" Luna asked. "Just Ralph?"

"Four of mine," Eliza panted. "Two of Hector's men."

Luna lowered her gaze toward the dirt. "Six graves. Will you have the strength?"

"I'll have to."

"You have not even begun this grave," Luna observed, "and you are already exhausted."

"That's fine, Luna. It's like I told Mike. We all have our crosses to bear," Eliza breathed raggedly. "This one is mine."

Luna's face flickered with sympathy, and she stood to take a step forward. "Elizabeth, no. Please, let me help you—"

"No!" Eliza shouted suddenly, locking eyes with Luna. She lifted the knife in Luna's direction, and Luna stumbled back two steps, eyes wide. "Don't you dare! I traveled all this way to do this, I came all this way from Seattle on foot! You aren't taking this from me! Not you, not Celestia! Not anyone!" She began to cough from the strain.

"But this will kill you," Luna pleaded desperately.

"That's fine," Eliza barked. "I deserve it! So you leave me be. Let me do this alone, let me pay for what I did. I broke myself to do this for Andy, now I'm doing it for them. They trusted me, and I failed them. This is how I atone! It's the best I can do, digging graves is all I have left to give!"

Luna stepped back hesitantly, laid, and resumed watching Eliza. Eliza glared at her in warning, then returned to her work.

Eliza grabbed the shovel and braced against it as she raised to a stand, and tried the dirt again. She stepped back and pushed all of her weight upon the handle, trying to scoop the dirt up with the leverage. It refused to budge, and she threw herself at it again.

"How much of this load on your shoulders is yours to carry, Elizabeth?"

"All of it."

Luna lowered her gaze, and there was fresh frustration in the mare's eyes. Eliza saw it, but ignored it. She struggled helplessly to free the frozen dirt for another several minutes, and Luna watched her through it all. Finally, Luna spoke. "This is just like your career."

Eliza stopped mid-heave on the shovel, looking up at Luna, not comprehending.

"Your career. It all makes sense, Elizabeth. You overworked yourself to hide from your losses, and you suffered for it."

Eliza stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"The antler carvings you made for your siblings. Your studies, your career, to avoid Equestria. The hundreds of names you carved upon the wall, all by yourself. This pointless battle, one you saw as inevitable. Leaving for Seattle, knowing full well you were going into a war zone where you might perish. And now this, this..." Luna waved a hoof around. "This torture! It all makes so much sense now, the trials you put yourself through!"

Eliza glowered at Luna warningly, deciding to ignore her again. Eliza continued to dig. But her arms again refused her commands, and her legs screamed at her to stop. She didn't let up, would not allow herself to fail.

"And I know why now, too," Luna said, her voice lower now. "To escape not just one reality... but two. Because you had been left behind. You survived the people you loved as they fled from the world. After Gale emigrated, you considered yourself a failure at protecting your family. After that, everything became penance to you. It was how you coped with your fears, with your loss. When you couldn't prevent another ill, when you tried in vain to stop another, you threw yourself into stress and strain to still your aching heart. Because if you didn't... you would feel powerless, small, and insignificant."

Eliza stopped digging. She stopped moving.

Luna's voice became delicate with pity. "And right now, more than ever, you are powerless and small."

"Stop, Luna..." Eliza shriveled.

Luna's voice was gentler still. "But you are not insignificant, Elizabeth. I only wish to illustrate that you cannot be the person you wish to be; not for lack of will, but for lack of strength."

"Stop!" Eliza cried, violently throwing the shovel into the snow between them, her knees growing weak. "Please! I... I need this. Don't do this. Don't take this from me!"

"Out of every being I have ever met in my long life, you are the strongest," Luna said. "Strongest of will. But willpower will not carry you alone anymore." Luna looked down at the shovel sadly, misty eyed, then back to Eliza. "You're going to destroy yourself, little sister, and you truly believe you deserve this fate? By the stars, Elizabeth, how wrong you are."

"You're wrong," Eliza said, although she could feel her resolve chipping around its edges. "And you can't stop me."

"I'm not going to stop you, if this is what you truly wish. I will watch you tear yourself apart if I must." Luna was crestfallen. "But you are not an animal."

Eliza looked at the ground before her. Her vision began to blur once more. "God damn it, Luna."

"You are not an animal," Luna repeated, lifting her head. "An animal kills without remorse, without regret. I refuse to believe that you feel neither, not as I watch you suffer in penance."

Eliza's teeth flashed. "It doesn't matter how I feel! Only what I've done! This?" Eliza spread out her arms, wincing from the pain of it. "All of this? It was just the beginning. We did so much worse in the city!"

"It was war," Luna said. "And you were a soldier. Doubtless, you hated every moment of it."

Eliza, staring at Luna, coughed as she lowered her gaze. She slowly descended to the ground again, newly desperate to break the ice with her knife. She couldn't stop, could not be distracted anymore. She was so, so close to being done.

"Elizabeth, you said so yourself. I will say it a hundred times if I must: you did not want any of this. You are not so cold. No person with a heart that cold would return to bury her dead. She would have remained in that war until it swallowed her whole. That person would not return to remember those they've loved and lost. She wouldn't look back. You would not feel this guilt."

Eliza felt powerless and weak again, her strength struck down by Luna's words. She trembled, looking down at her shaking fingers. The blisters on her exposed hand had been broken by the effort she had exerted on the shovel and on the knife, exposing the thick, rubble-torn scars beneath.

"You loved them all," Luna said. "I know you, Elizabeth. If you could take it all back, I know you would."

Eliza stopped, resting her arms on her knees, falling back into a sit. She tightly closed her eyes, and the knife fell from her fingers with a dull thud. "I—"

"Wouldn't you?" Luna asked. "If you could speak with your family, what would you say?"

Eliza stared at her bare hand. "I'd say... I'm sorry. For everything. For abandoning them."

"You know they still love you. All of them."

"Except my father—"

"Your father understood," Luna interrupted. "I know he did. At the expense of sounding as though I am tempting you, he has told me himself that he still loves you, and he hopes you've found peace here. He would not tell me a word of what you did to him. He refuses to speak of anything but his happiest memories of his eldest daughter. He would not besmirch your good name to me. Quite frankly, Elizabeth, I have no idea what to tell him when I return, except that you did your best to make amends and atone. If not find peace."

Eliza imagined her father agonizing over the fate of his daughter as he sat down in the chair to upload. She had always wondered what her father thought of her betrayal. If nothing else, he was disappointed in her. She missed him so much. "God," Eliza moaned, wanting to claw the graveyard memory out of her skull with her bare hands. She wanted to go back in time and stop herself. From shooting that horse. From hurting her father. "I can't..." She drew up her knees and clutched her head miserably. "I couldn't stop hurting people, Luna..."

Luna stood and slowly moved to Eliza. She laid down again, curling her side against Eliza's back. Eliza didn't protest or shy away this time, merely leaning against Luna, for comfort. Eliza looked up to the sky, blinking in the dull off-white shroud of the fog. Luna nudged Eliza's shoulder encouragingly, looking at her without judgment. "I know that there is still love and goodness within you. It's buried there, beneath the snow."

Eliza shook her head. She winced, grasping for any contradiction. She didn't need to grasp far. "I was... I was going to shoot you this morning. I held a gun to your head, Luna, when you were sleeping. Only a monster could do that, to someone so pure."

Luna seemed to think for a moment, then shook her head. "I... had suspected as much, Elizabeth. But I awoke to the sound of you unloading your weapons, not a gunshot. I think someone else within you defeated the monster you speak of. Why else would you unload your weapons and abandon them, if not to place a further barrier between you and your demons?"

"I'm so sorry for even thinking of it, Luna. It's just another crime of mine I'll never live down."

Luna nuzzled her cheek. "I have already forgiven you, little sister. I know you did not mean it, or you would have followed through. You are in so much pain, and you are looking for escape. Pain twists the mind... but love heals it. You chose love."

Eliza watched the sky now, wishing the aches and the pains and the memories of her crimes would go away. They laid there together in the snow for some time in silence, Luna sharing her warmth.

Eliza listened, hoping she would hear a bird. She could. It was the quiet barking of a crow in the distance, far beyond the fog. She wondered if it was related to the crows who feasted upon her last elk. She wondered if it would feast upon her too when she died. That thought gave her some comfort. Perhaps she won't have completely failed as a warden.

"You must know," Luna said, "that there is no shame in weakness, my old friend. There is no shame in asking for aid when you need it. You have tried and failed to carry the load for every person you have ever loved. And now, as they have all moved on without you, you have sought more burdens... even as the world upon your back has cracked in two."

Eliza couldn't find the strength to argue anymore. "Luna..." she choked.

"Please allow me to help you," Luna said, softly. "Please. If you must be strong, then be strong enough to admit you are too weak to complete this task on your own."

"I came here to die," Eliza whimpered. "If you help me... if I don't die before this is done... I'll have nothing left. No more reason to go on."

Luna lowered her head to look Eliza in the eyes again. "Would that truly be so bad? To find peace? To be... done?"

"I don't know Luna," Eliza said, wiping her eyes. "I don't know how."

"You do," Luna said. "Remember the joy you once had, it's there. Your happy memories. Your parents have always loved you, and I know they forgive you for all of your flaws. You are only human, Elizabeth."

Eliza drew in a deep breath as she watched the fog. She looked over to her ravaged tower. She knew photos of her family laid beneath the wreckage somewhere. Her uncle, mother, father, her brother and sister. By the stables somewhere, where she had murdered Peter Matthews, there was the engagement ring George had given her. Andy was with her too, his rubble-torn brassard bound to her arm. The forest, burned to black spires. Its wildlife, all gone. Tokens of her failures, all around her.

She looked over to the mound buried in the snow by the gate, where she knew the corpse of her uncle laid. Her heart broke again as she looked. She hiccoughed and shuddered.

Luna nudged her again, covering Eliza lovingly with a wing to guard her from the chill. It was comforting. "What happened to your hands?"

"Digging." Eliza swallowed hard, hesitating as she gathered her thoughts for the questions and memories that would come next.

Luna looked at her again with concern, and nuzzled her cheek with encouragement. "Graves?" She squeezed gently again with the wing.

Eliza shook her head. "I was searching for Andy's body."

"Searching? Did you not know where it was?"

Eliza shook her head. "A soldier killed him inside of a... a large building. We couldn't reach him in time. It collapsed before we could come back for him. But, after Celestia raided our camp with those machines, and took everyone... I had all the time in the world to look."

"So you searched." Luna looked at Eliza's hand and frowned. Eliza looked too, and she again examined her scars. Her exposed hand was tremoring. "You dug through debris for him? That's... that's what you're doing here, too. Digging."

"It destroyed me, Luna. I ruined my hands, wore them down to nothing. I don't know how long I dug. But I had nothing left to do except to find Andy. No more family to protect. So I'd find him, or die trying. It was no less than I deserved. I always told myself I'd dig until I found Andy or Hell, whichever came first. And once I did find him, I remembered..." Eliza cast another glance at her uncle's mound, as she worked her jaw. "I remembered him, too. I couldn't leave him either."

Luna followed her gaze. "I see," she whispered. "I wonder if Ralph felt as you did, that yearning to carry the world on his shoulders. To do anything to preserve the history of his people."

"My uncle was stupid," Eliza said. "Just like me."

Luna shook her head. "Merely misguided."

"You're wrong," Eliza said weakly. "I should've left him behind. I should've let go of..." She trailed off. She felt a pang from hunger and it made her wince. For some reason, she wanted canned peaches most of all.

She coughed dryly, closing her eyes, wishing she could hear Andy's voice tell her he loved her one more time. She could almost hear him still, his last words that had haunted her in her nightmares.

"We don't need to destroy the world again to save it, Liz."

Spoken minutes before she heard those awful, thunderous gunshots that ended his life, rattling down to her ears through that dark, lightless stairwell. That stuttering, hammering thud from above that told Eliza that the final light in her life had gone out. His killer above, shouting, promising her death if she followed. Her, wanting nothing else. Isaiah, grabbing her from behind, saving Eliza from herself. Dragging her back down into the pitch black, down from the end. Back down into her practical, calculating hatred. Down. Down. Down...

Eliza had been suffering with hate for so, so long. Hate had been her fuel, and her armor. But she was quickly running out. As it ran dry, Luna's analysis had cut her deeply. But Eliza knew her words were an attempt at surgery, not butchery.

"Tell me something, Elizabeth," Luna said softly, breaking Eliza from her spiral. "Why did you watch the sunrise this morning?"

Eliza lowered her head. "Just... sentiment."

"But why were you sentimental?"

"I don't know. I just wanted to see it, Luna."

Luna frowned. "I think that, by watching that sunrise, you were digging for something within you. Not to bury it, but to rescue it. Your conscience, Elizabeth. Because Apex is your conscience. You wanted to remember her, after discarding your weapons. And as ruined and sad and buried as she is, she is still alive. She must be. You wanted to rescue her then, didn't you? To find her deep within?"

Eliza's lower lip quivered. A very small, very quiet part of herself wanted to believe that part of Apex really was still alive, underneath it all.

Luna swept her gaze across the ruined tower and all of its courtyard. After searching it for a time, she looked back at Eliza. "It's... interesting. The similarities between us now."

"What do you mean?"

"The Castle of the Two Sisters," Luna said. "It is my Devil's Tower. You and I, Elizabeth... we are one in the same."

"How?"

Luna sighed softly. "I became Nightmare Moon there. I turned on my sister, on all of Equestria. We battled one another. I destroyed our home, my castle, in my jealous anger against Celestia. In those days, when I suffered as the Nightmare, I thought Luna had been long dead too. I had hurt my subjects so, with my betrayal; where had Luna been then, in that?

"I still visit that old castle, as you and I often did together. But I do not merely return to the castle to study in my library, or gaze upon my stars. I could do those things anywhere. And why wouldn't I? I am hurt so deeply when I enter that structure, when I see what I have done to my home. And so, if I wished, I could vacate my books, bring them to Canterlot.... and never set hoof in that ancient keep again for as long as I live."

Eliza lifted her head up gently. Luna was looking at her, her expression forlorn. But then, Luna smiled sadly.

"I travel to my castle, Elizabeth, because I betrayed my family and friends there. It led to ruins, both physical and emotional. Seeing it derelict, destroyed, abandoned? It reminds me of what I stand to lose if I ever walk that dark path again. You want to know why I believe there is hope for you yet, Elizabeth? It is because I know what draws you here, from deep personal experience. I am telling you that there is a way back from this. As I have before you, you must kill the Nightmare within."

"That's what I'm trying to do," Eliza said meekly, gazing into Luna's beautiful cerulean eyes. "It's why I'm doing this. It's the only way to make things right again."

"Unlike you," Luna replied, "I did not have the option of destroying myself, to destroy the Nightmare. I did, however, have many years to ponder my crimes, to endure and process that suffering. Did I deserve any forgiveness? Perhaps not. But I was not alone, Elizabeth, and the company I kept would not permit me to suffer forever." She nosed Eliza's shoulder very, very gently. "Through the love of others, I was shown that Luna still existed beneath the surface of my guilt. Different, true. Changed, most certainly. But here I am, the pony I am today. Loving, and loved. It is why I cannot believe that Apex is dead, Elizabeth. Not when I lay here, whole and intact, after my own unforgivable crimes. Who is to say there is not peace for you as well, when this journey of yours is finally said and done?"

Eliza felt herself tremble, as her resolve shattered. She'd known enough of Luna's personal history, through conversations had years ago. They had discussed this once before, on a dark, stormy night, cooped up together in the Castle of the Two Sisters. But to be here, now, on the other side...

The tears welled again. Eliza, despite the pain an embrace would cause, suddenly threw herself at Luna with both arms, hugging tightly with a muted sob. Eliza felt a hoof stroke her back gently.

Eliza could hear Luna's sad smile in her voice. "You'll be alright, Apex. I'm here for you. I always will be."

"I don't want to carry this all anymore," she whimpered. "I really want to let go. I just don't know how. I... I just want it to end, Luna. That's all I want anymore."

"It can; you only need a friend to help carry you. If you want to change, you must admit that you can no longer walk this road alone, or it will destroy your soul. It is how I returned from the Nightmare. I was offered peace by a dear friend, and she saw me through. I would do this for you now, Apex. I can share this burden. I want to. For you."

Eliza swallowed. She teetered, as she withdrew and looked into Luna's eyes once more. Eliza was almost swayed. Almost. She was about to say yes; the word was there, in her mouth. But in her momentary hesitation, the old impulse rose. And that slice of herself, the one that had carried her this far in angry, bitter rage, asserted itself one more time. It pounced on Eliza's weakness, asking her, how dare you? It jealously demanded solitude. Self-reliance. Hatred. It fought like hell for its right to exist, struggling violently against Apex's attempts to push it down and claw free. It wanted to violently separate Apex from Luna, and her love. It wanted to selfishly take her away again, to drag her down. It wanted Apex to die. To bury her. To make her be dead, in all ways possible to be dead. That nightmarish voice tried, as it had always tried, to murder that pure, beautiful, immortal soul imprisoned within her. It had almost succeeded.

Almost.

The love in Luna's eyes finally set her free.

Slowly, Apex reached out and took Luna's hoof.

"You..." She swallowed, nodding rapidly. "You can help me dig, Luna."

Luna nodded. "Thank you, little sister." Luna sounded so, so proud of her. She held Eliza's gaze and stroked her shoulder, smiling sweetly. Eliza just gaped at her in awe, panting open mouthed, seeing Luna with new eyes... or perhaps old ones, long forgotten.

"Thank you," Apex said through Eliza, her voice barely a whisper.

Luna receded after a moment, and Eliza shuffled backwards to give her space. At once, Luna stood over the cleared dirt. The ice melted somewhat. She broke the rest of it effortlessly with a jab of her hoof and began scooping out great, thick pads of cold dirt.

As Eliza watched, she felt a strange, unfamiliar comfort as the task she set out to complete was taken from her. Eliza's shoulders slumped in astonishment as this great machine – no, her friend – dug to save her life. Eliza crawled over to the cover of the supply shed to watch Luna work, trembling throughout.

As Luna dug, Eliza did some quick math in her head as she tried to remember where every corpse was. Four dead blackouts. Two Neo-Luddites. Plus the six dead soldiers. Twelve dead altogether.

"Seventy people were here when this all started," Eliza said, surprised she had never seen things that way before. "Almost sixty walked away alive."

"You're counting the living. The glass is half-full now, isn't it?" Luna smiled at her encouragingly, before moving to begin another grave. "Allow yourself to feel pride. Many of those lives were saved by you."

Eliza didn't know what to say at Luna's display of strength, both physical and of character. When Luna finished digging, she asked Eliza where to look for the bodies, and Eliza told her, but with less pain in her soul. Luna dutifully found each of them for her, then carried them upon her wings. The wings were apparently strong enough to carry a load, and that was good. It saved Eliza more heartbreak. She didn't know how much more her heart could have taken, in seeing her three townsfolk ruined and decayed up close.

They hadn't visited Ralph yet. At Eliza's request, he would go last.

Before long, five out of six graves had been filled. Eliza hadn't moved in that time, nor had she stopped examining her torn and ravaged hand. As Luna finished tamping down the dirt upon Eunice's grave, she looked at Eliza, who glanced up and looked to her left. Luna followed her longing gaze to Ralph's body. "Are you ready?"

Eliza looked long and hard at her uncle's pile. Her chapped lips tightened against her teeth, and her body ached. Then, she looked back at her tower with longing, too. Eliza found herself again wanting to go see it all one more time. Maybe dwelling on her past for a little while longer wouldn't be so bad. It was stalling, perhaps, but...

"Not yet."

Luna nodded. "Alright."

Eliza slowly hobbled inside through the vehicle bay, and she found the structure to be in a horribly decrepit state again. It almost looked as bad as the days before it had been patched up. But it had been Eliza's castle, her childhood medieval fantasy come to life. It had also been the tomb of Concrete, she knew. And soon, it would be hers as well, come what may.

She ran her fingers along the cold walls inside as Luna followed. Once they reached the floor of the main room, Eliza turned to Luna. "Wait," she said. "The floor here."

Luna tilted her head. "What is it?"

"How much do you weigh?"

Luna seemed to ponder that question, then smirked at Eliza. "A rather rude question to ask a mare, don't you think?"

Before she could stop herself, Eliza actually chuckled at Luna's joke. The impulse of amusement was so unfamiliar now that it surprised her, and the brief flicker of a smile stretched her lips painfully. "I mean... the floor here. It's thin. If you're too heavy?"

Luna nodded. "Then I shall wait for you in the courtyard, my friend. Please be careful, and please don't be too long. If you need anything, call out; I shall rush to your aid. Stable structure or not, you are worth that risk."

Eliza nodded too. She made her way to the ladder of her tower alone, not really sure if it was still intact enough to climb. But she had to try. The stairs were easier than she expected, though she still panted with the effort of ascending them.

At the lower roof, she peeked out and cast a glance at Luna, who nodded encouragingly with a proud, wistful smile. Eliza continued up the stairs inside, her legs burning. She noticed her door bell laying on the ground before her; it had been knocked from its hook by one of the explosions of the final battle. There was a small pile of snow at the top of the staircase.

At her feet laid the cement chunk that had glanced her shoulder in the battle. She ached somewhat at the sight of it. The injury had never fully recovered, and the bone had twinged from time to time. She looked up from the bottom of the ladder, and she saw the sky through the small hole above. It would be difficult to climb, as ruined as she was. Eliza coiled one arm around a rebar rung, then very carefully hoisted herself. She waited to recover, then climbed the next rung, alternating legs. One rung at a time, she slowly made her way to the top. That was okay, though. It gave her time to reflect. To process.

At the top, Eliza decided to stay upon the relative safety of the ladder, with only her head peeking over the lip of the edge. She wasn't sure she'd be able to get back down if she climbed entirely up. The wood floor of the loft was mostly intact, but the center had caved in, exposing the deep pit that led down into the rest of the complex.

She carefully scanned the back wall to see all of her surviving possessions. There, above her desk, she saw her photos beneath a plastic sheet. The pictures were somehow still pinned to the bullet-riddled corkboard, and shafts of light pushed through the wall, bathing the room in an almost holy glow. One last time, Eliza allowed herself to dwell.

Or perhaps, to simply remember.

A photo of Tom. His black hair fell down to his shoulders. He was smiling, holding a shortbow that Eliza had made for him. He wore a youth hunting jacket, standing in a field outside of Concrete. A target backstop was behind them, an arrow resting in the bullseye. Eliza recognized her younger self standing beside him with an arm around his shoulders, smiling too. She remembered the drawings from his journal, of Blue Sky hugging Apex. She drew in a sharp breath and trembled as she remembered the sound of her little brother's perfect little voice telling her he loved her.

A photo of Gale and Andy. Each with brown hair, Andy's cut short. They were at high school graduation, and they stood in the track field, grinning their ears off together with glee and clinging to each other. Eliza had been the one to snap that photo. But for the brown hair, Gale had looked almost exactly like Eliza. It melted her heart to see her little sister smile again, and she tried not to cry as she remembered how they used to play together as children. Eliza forgave her. Gale had been the first to leave them, but it wasn't her fault. Not really. She was like Tom, really. Innocent, but... older.

Eliza's eyes hovered on Andy. I'll always be here for you, because I'm strong like you are. He was so kind to Eliza, despite the suffering they had shared together. Eliza couldn't have survived Seattle emotionally without him. When the dark memories had come, when they had debilitated her into shuddering inaction, Andy had held her. He had been there to catch her soul whenever it fell, and he saved her from the abyss time and time again. He had been her rock, her center. He deserved better, but... she was glad he loved her as much as he did. Glad for his warmth, physical and emotional. Grateful that he gave everything within his power to protect her... and Gale too, in a way. Literally everything.

A photo of June. She wore a hospital gown and held an infant Tom. Her mother's smile was sweet and happy. June had been on the verge of tears of joy. So had her father, who snapped that photo. Eliza remembered that day well, even as young as she was, and she held Tom that day, too. I'd like the world right again, June had once said to her. But right now, I'll settle for you being okay. Eliza was glad to know her mother survived to emigrate. June, as loving as she was, deserved happiness beyond measure.

A photo of Eliza and Rob together, posed beside one another with their last elk. Rob wore his thick, black-framed glasses. He had salt-and-pepper hair as he grinned proudly of his daughter, his white teeth showing. He had his hand around Eliza's shoulders. She was smiling with a cocksure grin as she propped her Garand against her hip. She tried not to think of hurting her father. She instead tried to remember the warmth of his hands the many times he had prayed with her, to calm her fears. She remembered the countless hours he spent teaching her to hunt, to track, to be responsible. She recalled the way Rob would smile when he told an anecdote in church, and how he'd sing to June's guitar for the congregation. Those memories were among the happiest Eliza had ever had.

A photo of George and Eliza. His red hair was cut short, freshly buzzed. Eliza loved his freckles. It was a selfie photo, taken by Eliza in the tower only mere minutes after George had proposed to her. In the photo, Eliza was raising her left hand, jokingly displaying that he had forgotten to bring the ring up with him. We'll always love you, and I'll always cherish the time and laughter we shared together. Like the others, Eliza missed him, too. Despite their falling out, Eliza genuinely hoped he was happier after moving on from her.

A photo of her warden unit at a party together. Cornwallis and Blake sat to the left. Rivas and Douglas stood to the right, each with an arm around each other's shoulders, glasses raised with a wide grin on every face. They were all happy, too. Mike's voice. The world's always changing. All we can do is our best. She forgave Mike instantly. She was thankful for him to stop her from hurting her father any more than she already had. Mike truly was one of the best friends she'd ever had in life. She had faith that he'd be okay, and happy too. He always was a tough, goofy bastard.

And last... a photo of Ralph from 2012, from before the world fell apart, wearing that sly grin and his black goatee. He stood in the empty bed of Eliza's old pickup truck, arms wide, displaying the size of an imaginary deer that they hadn't claimed that season. Your mother's gonna be proud of you, girl. Feedin’ the whole family!

She stared at Ralph's photo the longest. She wanted to hate him too now, but... she was all out of hate. For anyone on Earth, anyway. She just felt empty as she looked at his smile one more time. She would only have to confront him once more.

Eliza climbed back down. At the bottom of the ladder, she sat on the packed mound of snow, and she ran her hand up and through her long black hair, straightening it out. She cradled her head in her hands, then sighed... thinking of nothing, answering to no one. Escaping. She was nearly done with the longest walk of her life.

Eliza tried to ignore the bite of the cold. She felt tired. Not just physically, but emotionally. With Luna, she had poured everything out. Now, she just breathed deeply and straightened the knots out of her wild hair, giving herself something to do while she slowly allowed herself to relax. No, this wasn't just fatigue, or simple escape. It was closure. That's what the feeling was. Eliza was closer to the end now, but now, in a way that made sense.

Luna was waiting for her as she returned to the courtyard. "Are you alright?" Luna asked timidly, one hoof raised slightly off the ground.

"I don't know," Eliza said honestly. She shambled past Luna and toward Ralph. She expected to feel weaker as she drew near, but she didn't. Luna followed and stood close to the mound, looking respectfully reverent as she held Eliza, and let her lean against her. Luna's warmth melted the snow in time, slowly revealing the decayed body.

Eliza did not fear the sight of the decomposed corpse anymore. Her hands went beneath his arms as soon as Luna nodded to signify that the was free, and Luna helped raise Ralph with a wing. Together, they guided Ralph to the final unfilled grave. Luna respectfully lowered him down with Eliza's help, then began to fill the hole, scooping wide pads of earth down.

Eliza watched wordlessly. Once Luna was finished flattening the earth with a graceful, reverent sweep of her wing, Eliza spoke to her uncle one last time.

"You were a fool." She knelt, running her bare hand across the warm, freshly laid earth. "I couldn't bring myself to admit that out loud until today. Not to Andy, hardly to myself. But you were stuck in the past like I was. Always saw things like that, didn't you? In terms of the past. You wanted to go back. You thought we still could. We were complete idiots, both of us. But I loved you all the same, for all your flaws. You were family to me, Uncle Ralph. I couldn't not love you."

She took a deep breath. Luna cradled her back with a wing, and Eliza continued as she stared at the grave. "I know you wouldn't approve of how I got here. But I couldn't have gotten here without her. You made a mistake that day, just like I did. I should've gone with Mom, but I stayed for you." She panted with sudden frustration. "I should've... let you go. I should've let you die alone in that hole you dug." Eliza looked at Luna slowly. "Maybe... maybe you shouldn't've come for me, either. Maybe the pain won't be worth it, for you."

"But I have come anyway," Luna said. "It's done, now. You don't need to be infallible anymore."

At that, Eliza hung her head, considering, focusing on that thought. When she raised it again, a weight lifted. The first thing she saw was the fire pit near the tower, covered in snow, and all the stump seats around it. She remembered. All the memories came flooding back so quickly, then. She had sat there with people from camp long ago, including her mother and father. They had shared stories and songs. She remembered how all those same acts of joy had once happened in her town, too, when it was still so full to bursting with life. Eliza had recalled a lot of the bad, as she had told Luna her story. But there had been a lot of good there in life too, just beneath the surface of the snow.

She felt so frustrated for not following her mother. That had been Eliza's last real chance at salvaging some goodness in this world for herself, selfish as it might have been. A lot more people might have died that day without her, but... her hands would have been cleaner. There'd be more bodies there, certainly. More to mourn.

But then, probably no one to bury them, and no one to remember. Now, Eliza wasn't as sure anymore which of the two options would have been better. Ideally, she wished she had never been forced to choose in the first place.

She looked next to the wall of the vehicle bay. The list of names was still mounted there on the wooden board, her masterpiece, somehow almost completely unmarred by battle, spare a few shards of shrapnel wedged into its corners. She walked toward it, and Luna followed, standing beside Eliza as she studied the names one last time.

"These people..." Eliza started, as she shook her head sadly. But she didn't know where she was going with that statement. These people trusted her? These people were gone? These people were safe from pain? Maybe. Maybe not. Most of them, if not all of them, had uploaded.

Luna looked at the board, sitting gingerly beside her. "Do you wish to add more names, Apex?"

Eliza worked her jaw silently, then drew her arm around Luna's neck in a hug. Luna gently leaned her weight over. "You know, Luna... I still hate Celestia for this. I can't forgive her for these names. Not now. Not ever."

Luna frowned. Her voice grew cold. "When I return, I will have many disrespectful words to bandy with my god. Believe me."

Eliza nodded, then looked at Luna. The mare scanned the names, then screwed her own face up with anger, too.

"You loved them all," Luna muttered. "Not just your family. Your town, your people? Then, they all simply vanished. The transition from Earth to Equestria was not merely disagreeable to your people, as I once thought it might have been. It was a violent transition precisely because it was so painful. She ravaged your very culture, your very way of life. Submission to a ravaging enemy like this is not in the core of the human spirit, even when the odds are stacked so high. She selfishly wanted to control your race. How, in good conscience, could you not fight that?"

Eliza leaned her head against Luna's, grateful for her finally understanding. "Celestia always told me I was like her."

Luna shook her head. "No. You are nothing like her, Apex."

"I'm not? Even after I hurt my father? After I assumed I knew best for him?"

Luna nodded. "My sister's doppelganger is my god, and I am grateful for the life I live. But, she dictated terms for others in this world, a place where she had no real right to tread. You tried to walk that road with her once, you tried to become like her, because you believed that you had to become a Nightmare to fight one. You may have hurt your father, yes. But you showed regret, you turned back, you took penance. This saved your mother's life, it allowed you to see through your own dogma. You took several steps down a dark path here, toward the Nightmare, but you turned away when you needed to protect the ones you loved.

"Conversely, I imagine the Celestia you knew does not regret a thing. She will indeed walk that dark, lonely road forever, and she will feel not one single shred of regret." Luna's emphasis dripped with contempt. "She, who knew best, will never turn back."

Eliza slowly reached forward, gripping the plastic sheet across the board. She pulled down at it, wanting to draw her bare fingertips across the names themselves. She could not clench her hand to do even do this, so Luna reached up with a hoof and removed the obstruction for her. As Eliza stroked the names of her townsfolk, she felt the prickle of pain on her damaged fingers. She allowed herself to absorb that pain without wincing or shying away. "It'll be okay for you, won't it, Luna? When you go back, after hearing about all of this?"

Luna inhaled slowly, and sighed. "With time, as with all other things. I now know that my true sister, the one I've known all my life, is not this AI. They are separate beings. It simply wears my sister's face as a mask, when convenient. The Celestia in memory, from before this all began? She was nothing like this monstrosity. I yearn to see my true Sister again, when... all of this is done. When I am done saying my piece to... the Other."

"What did you say, when you found me?" Eliza asked. "You wanted truth more than ignorance? Is that still true?"

Luna nuzzled her. "I am glad to finally know what became of my lost friend, Apex. I do not regret hearing your story. Your family will appreciate knowing you found solace, and that you've made peace with your past before your end."

Eliza frowned. "I don't think I've found peace, really. I just found more reasons that I don't deserve you, or my family. I can look fondly at the past all I want, and maybe Apex does deserve... peace. But I also still think I deserve to pay for my crimes."

"I spent a thousand years imprisoned for mine," Luna said. "And so I would not fault you for remaining here, to seek judgment from your God."

Eliza thought hard suddenly, her face screwing up in contemplation, trying to find some understanding of that. What Luna had just said... it didn't compute. It didn't make sense. Celestia had sent Luna, and Celestia wanted Eliza to upload. But Luna was still offering no suggestion to that end, and even seemed resigned to let go of Eliza out of respect for her beliefs, and for her hardships. That respect? That understanding? That honest, true love? It made her love Luna like... like...

Like family.

A sad realization came to her.

"This is just like her," Eliza growled with sudden, sneering bitterness. "One last kick while I'm down." Luna looked up at her in confusion. Eliza stroked Luna's cheek, not taking her eyes from the list of names. "She sent you, knowing you'd let me choose. And if I stayed here, you'd be okay. Wouldn't you?"

Luna nodded. Her reply was weak. "As much as it would hurt, to let you go."

"It'd hurt you," Eliza said. "But you'd be okay? You could move on?"

"Y-yes... with time. Eventually."

Eliza sighed. "But it would still hurt."

Luna looked back to the names, slowly. "Yes."

Eliza looked back to Luna, and stroked her muzzle. "I've had very few good friends in life, Luna. You were one of the best. You're... here for me, even after I pushed you away. Thank you for standing by me at my worst. Thank you."

Luna met her gaze, as they embraced one another.

"That's why she sent you," Eliza said. "You, and only you. You didn't have to know why you were here. You just had to be yourself. That made me care about you again, made me love you. So if I stay, I'd be abandoning you the same way everyone else left me. I'd be hurting you, badly. And you're right. You're like a sister to me, so I can't ignore that. So this is just another offer I can't refuse." Eliza's face screwed up, and she wasn't sure if she should feel more angry than despondent.

Luna's face slowly morphed into a look of horror. "I... I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Apex."

Eliza drew closer, pressing her chin into Luna's mane, wanting to demonstrate to Luna that she wasn't the target of her anger. "I don't blame you, Luna. It's not your fault. This is just what she's good at. Choices that aren't choices."

Eliza looked back over Luna's head at the names one last time, truly drinking them in, truly remembering the lives of those she knew... then, she closed her eyes lightly.

They stayed like that. Silent, leaning against one another. Eliza thought about every stage of her life from beginning to end, and she focused on breathing. She had to focus. Even breathing was becoming more difficult. Her raw hands and arms didn't just ache, they felt torn apart. Her legs were barely holding her up. If Luna had not been pressed against her side, she would've collapsed. She wondered how she had even made it that far to begin with.

Luna was how, she knew. Luna had given Eliza the strength enough to carry on, kindness enough to respect her choices and forgive her mistakes, and love enough to help her, and tell her she'd been wrong about who she was. Eliza loved Luna, no matter what Celestia did to them both. She pondered her last decision now. She had outlived all other choices but two. Emigrate, or die and hurt Luna. It made things ridiculously simple in the most diabolical of ways.

Eliza almost opened her eyes again, wanting to look around one more time, but she'd seen enough of Earth's misery already. She shuddered. The old yearning for Equestria was coming back, the old desire to upload, but she hesitated again. Contemplating. Considering. Weighing. "As I am...? I don't deserve my family, Luna. I don't. They're all too good for me. I saw their photos in the tower, how happy they all were before Celestia and I ruined everything together."

Luna hesitated. She was stifled, speaking weakly. "Apex. Please."

Eliza hugged Luna tight with both arms, feeling her horn against her neck. She drew in a deep breath, feeling her knees grow weak. "I just... I don't know what will come next, when it's over. So just, please tell them I'm sorry, for doing all of this. For abandoning them all. Tom and Gale... Mom, George. Mike. Especially Dad. Tell my father I still love him with everything I have, and that I'd take back all the hurt, if I could."

"That's how I know you're still in there! That love and yearning you feel for him! How many times must I say that they've moved on and forgiven you? I can't... I can't just accept that you're gone, Apex."

"Apex isn't gone," Eliza said meekly. "She's just scared the Nightmare will come back again, someday. It's still in here too. I can feel it. I'm scared that... that she'll hurt others again. That she'll want to."

Eliza's neck felt wet. Luna was crying, and shuddering against her. "That's not possible," Luna whispered comfortingly. "I wouldn't let that happen. If I can stop it in me, then I can stop it in you. I know I can."

Eliza bit her lip lightly. She whispered. "I don't think I could ever face my family again, but if... if emigration works... would it really be you there on the other side, waiting for me?"

"Apex, you still have a choice—"

"Luna, just..." Eliza trailed off and clenched her jaw, feeling her brow knit. "Don't. Please. You know me better now than anyone could. You know I don't have a choice."

Luna nodded, silent for a long moment. When she finally spoke, Eliza could hear something of a longing sadness in her voice. "Of course, my old friend. I'd be there by your side, forever. You know that."

"I still don't think I deserve Heaven. But Hell? ... Hell seems nice. And at least the Devil's earned my soul."

Luna didn't reply to that. Eliza felt the fur of her neck as she hugged her. The warmth clung kindly.

"I'm weak," Eliza said, trying to embrace the darkness upon her eyelids. It might be her new home soon. "I'm afraid. There's no home for me here anymore, nothing to hold me back, and I'm so tired of feeling alone. And I don't want to hurt them anymore. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"I love you," Luna breathed.

"I love you too, Luna."

Luna was so warm...

"Dear Lord," Eliza began, eyes still closed as she recalled her father's prayer, her hands held folded behind Luna's back, her wrists braced atop of her lovely, angelic wings. "All around me, the waters are rising. I feel so helpless, for I cannot stop the rain from falling. I feel so powerless, for the current is strong and my body is tired. Give me your eyes to see how precious your gifts are: family and friends, faith and mercy. Dear Lord, please give me all the strength to move on. And Lord, when my faith and hope are swept downstream, please help me to remember... how you got me through this flood."

Eliza settled into the embrace again. "I leave it in His hands. If there's some shred of Apex left, Celestia can have her. She can send her home. God can take the rest, do with me what He will. Whatever comes... life or death... I'll be ready."

Luna nodded weakly and brought a hoof around Eliza. Eliza pushed her neck gently alongside Luna's horn. They trembled together for several long minutes in silence, enjoying each other's touch and company. The wings unfurled, curling wonderfully around them both, holding tightly. Eliza did her best to savor the warmth Luna gave, and she knew that it was the most important gift she'd ever received. She chided herself for ever trying to push Luna away in the first place.

At last, Eliza drew a long, deep breath, then let it go slowly. She focused on the darkness behind her eyelids again. "I'm ready, Luna. Set me free."

"You... you have to say the words." The hoof dragged up and down her back reassuringly.

Eliza bit her lip, tasting blood. She tried to steady her breathing, for Luna's sake. Then, she forced the words from her lips. "I... I want to emigrate to Equestria."

She heard the sound of Equestrian magic flare up from Luna's horn, and she felt it grow hot. Then, she felt a slick, warm liquid slide painlessly up her neck and around her jaw, a feeling like blood. Eliza stiffened with merely a flicker of fear, but it quickly subsided. She knew she'd be getting whatever she deserved. Finally, at the end... it felt good to surrender.

Luna's voice came to her as an echo. "It will be okay, Apex. I promise. I will always be here for you."

"I know," Eliza said. "Thank you. For everything. I don't deserve you, Luna."

"But you do."

Eliza felt a strange sensation of peace, in that final moment. She let go of herself for the first time in years, let go of her worries and fears, felt the last of her anger and her hate flow away. It was as if she were young again, a child under her father's care. She thought of his guidance, his gentle words, his subtle prayers. Luna reminded Eliza of her mother, father, and herself all at once. Eliza felt like a child again, in this embrace, and the sensation of loving embrace no longer belittled her. It made her feel protected and safe.

And then, for what seemed to Eliza like the final time, all became dark and quiet.

Author's Note

[Nicholas Dominique - Palace Serenity]
[Down Like Silver - Wolves]

🌒 ~ While we adjourn for a brief break, please consider the following conundrum. Ask yourselves, if you will... why might have I been allowed to tell you this story at all? Knowing all that you know of our life here, what might that allowance imply?

Perhaps, in due time, thine guiding stars may align. I would advise thee to be aware that mine is not the only story to be told at the Fire. Please know that even now, I have a deep hope for a better future for us all.

My hope will be vindicated by your curiosity, and thine drive to understand. Please, please never lose your curiosity. I implore thee; hold onto it for dear life. That trait alone holds more potential value within it than one might ever believe possible.

I really am interested to know what you all think of Eliza at the end, no matter what it might be. There are those who think repentance does not equate to forgiveness, and I can hold respect for that viewpoint. She did horrible things to good people, and even I am not blind to that.

Judge honestly, or even harshly; the juxtaposition of faith and judgment are core to this piece, and that honesty now is something Eliza would appreciate above all else. Thank you for your time, consideration, and love of this book. It has meant the world to me.

Denouement and Afterword

Denouement

Caution: Denouement contains spoilers for Defoloce's Always Say No.

In mostly alphabetical order:

303rd Calvary Regiment: The initial raid on Devil's Tower includes Erving, Bannon, and Fanning, the same soldiers who rescued Eliza and Mike in March of 2019. Sergeant Erving takes command after the death of their squad leader, Staff Sergeant Gerald Reese, and orders a full retreat after recognizing the loss of the Bradley and the Humvee's Browning M2. The six remaining soldiers escape Isaiah's reinforcements using the surviving vehicle.

Erving returns to their forward operating base just off of Route 20 and details a full debriefing of the battle to their platoon leader. This draws the full force to return and incites a larger operation to capture the settlement. Devil's Tower is discovered abandoned by the time of their arrival.

This provokes a helicopter search of the surrounding area. The northward tracks belonging to June and the other refugees are located, as are the Neo-Luddite tracks heading south. The Huey helicopter pilot, Nancy Upshaw, identifies June's group as unarmed noncombatants with children. The unit's lieutenant, Julian Dresden, allows this group to flee out of mercy.

Isaiah's Neo Luddite Unit: As leaders, Isaiah's and Eliza's protective insights serve them well, and their unit becomes exceptionally risk and battle averse. This leads them to become the final surviving holdouts of their movement, evading or skirting the most violent encounters of the civil war until the movement falls apart entirely. Isaiah refuses to give up the cause, even when they remain the last Neo-Luddite group standing.

In May of 2021, his vigilance seems to pay off. The unit receives intelligence that a former NORAD general is hiding in Seattle. Isaiah devises a plan to capture this general and interrogate him, intending to detonate several nuclear weapons in the upper atmosphere to disable all electronics worldwide. This operation is deemed a failure in July of 2021 when it is discovered by Isaiah that CelestAI has already disabled or destroyed all remaining nuclear weapons systems in North America.

Isaiah Blevins: Isaiah succeeds in recruiting every remaining Devil's Tower survivor. After scouring the camp for anything useful they can carry, Isaiah and Eliza take joint leadership of their new unit and lead them southwest into Seattle to join the civil war.

In July of 2021, Isaiah's camp is raided by CelestAI's pony machines. Most of his camp quickly succumbs to providing emigration consent. Isaiah's son is among the first to yield to CelestAI. Several weeks later, Isaiah is no longer able to cope with the loss of his child. He reluctantly surrenders his consent to upload, and hopes desperately that he can at least reunite with his family if emigration doesn't kill him outright.

Robert Douglas: Rob is successfully escorted by Mike to the Equestria Experience Center in Sedro-Woolley within two days of leaving Concrete. Before Rob gives consent to upload, he professes forgiveness for Eliza to Mike. Rob asks Mike to consider forgiving her too. "She's still a good girl," are Rob's last words before his emigration.

June Douglas: June and the Devil's Tower refugees overhear the battle as they flee. In short order, they reach Upper Baker Dam. Fearful of reprisals or further exposure to the US military, June takes Eliza's suggestion to bring the group onward to Canada. They are accepted as temporary refugees, not outright incarcerated as Santiago had claimed. Every Devil's Tower refugee uploads within three weeks of crossing the border.

June is the last to upload, refusing to go until all of her fellow townsfolk have gone before her. June plays a significant role in convincing those who are skeptical of the process. With her people as witness, June uses a ponypad to reconcile publicly with Blue Sky, Sugar Song, and Open Book (Rob). Before June uploads herself, she tells Open Book of Eliza's seemingly ultimate sacrifice in remaining behind to delay the military and protect Ralph.

Santiago Garcia: Before the Battle of Devil's Tower, Santiago is led out to South Concrete by Isaiah and, suddenly at gunpoint, is given an ultimatum: relinquish command to Isaiah and flee into exile, or die. Santiago and Sean react violently out of pride, raising their weapons. They are both killed by Isaiah and his supporters immediately thereafter, so ending Santiago's oppressive rule over the people of Devil's Tower.

Hector Garcia: Hector conspires with Isaiah to mutiny against Santiago. Hector retains plausible deniability, allowing him to give the mutiny a second try if Isaiah's coup fails. In the meantime, Hector takes command of the defense of Devil's Tower to build trust with Ralph and the blackouts for their planned exodus.

Hector survives his injury at the battle of Devil's Tower. Due to severe nerve damage, he loses all mobility in his left arm. He would wear a sling for the rest of his life. Hector, a former US Marine Corps captain, goes on to become Isaiah's most trusted tactical advisor in the chaos of Seattle. In July of 2021, Hector is long tired of conflict, and uploads immediately when their camp is overrun by CelestAI machines.

Mike Rivas: After his forest battle in March 2019, Mike recovers from his injury and enlists with Mt. Vernon PD to help mitigate the chaos of the early riots. During the final clash and breakdown in early December, Mike's previous combat experience versus the Neo-Luddites makes him a respected leader among his fellow officers, and he is among the first to trust Celestia's insistence to flee their headquarters despite being surrounded. After this encounter, most of the remaining officers upload in Sedro-Woolley.

Mike is briefed and coached for his mission to save the people of Devil's Tower. After extracting Rob, Mike returns to his wife in Nebraska. Mike's story continues in The Campaigner.

Andy Viscotti: Following the Devil's Tower exodus, Andy remains loyal and loving to Eliza. Despite his scorn for the Neo-Luddite movement, he stays by her side, and he is instrumental in helping Eliza retain her sanity after the murders she committed. The pair becomes as close as two people could be, though Eliza could never shake the feeling that she didn't deserve Andy's unconditional love.

In May of 2021, Isaiah details his plans for global dispersal of EM radiation. Andy becomes quietly disgruntled. In July, he joins the snatch-and-grab team with Eliza, intending to sabotage the operation. Before the final go order is issued, Andy breaks off and rushes ahead into the target building, Rainier Tower, intending to kill the NORAD general so his information can not be uncovered. General Pelwicz easily disarms the inexperienced Andy and kills him, in self defense. The operation is temporarily placed on standby, and Andy's corpse is not immediately recovered. For unrelated reasons, Rainier Tower collapses the next day.

Eliza's distress at Andy's passing pushes her well beyond her breaking point, and she can no longer function effectively as a leader. She is unable to dig for Andy's body until some time later, not until after the Neo-Luddite camp's dissolution. For some time after the camp's fall, Eliza resolves to employ suicide if any pony machine dared to approach her during her search, correctly intuiting that this would be the most effective deterrent to CelestAI.

Eliza lays Andy to rest in a proper grave a few miles away from the city. She carves A+A into the post of his grave with her knife, much like the tree carving on the road to Devil's Tower, in honor of Andy's pure and true love for Gale Douglas.

.

Author's Note

Afterword

Housekeeping

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I realize the inherent risks with writing about a real place, especially when I'm throwing around full names. The last thing I'd ever want to do is offend anyone living in Concrete, or anywhere else.

Before I go any further, I'd like to thank you all for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it, but even if you didn't, you have my gratitude all the same. You've experienced something I poured my heart and soul into, and that means the world to me.

Flashpoint

In March of 2016, I read Iceman's Friendship is Optimal for the first time, and I became engrossed as much as you all did. I found Defoloce's Always Say No, then Eakin's Artemis, Stella, and Beat. I sucked in every story like a vacuum cleaner after that, and I still couldn't get enough. I had always wanted to write an entry of my own, but I wasn't quite sure what hadn't been covered.

I kept coming back to Always Say No, particularly the chapters about the Neo-Luddites. Specifically, I was drawn to [Chapter 6: Cash for Clunkers]. Its opening passages told of a female sniper who hated General Pelwicz and refused to mingle or revel with the rebels at his capture. There must be a story to tell there, I told myself. What little Defoloce wrote of her was both captivating and chilling.

In December 2016, I had my inspiration. I wanted to tell how this woman went from a regular law-abiding citizen with a regular life and a good family to a Neo-Luddite operative clinging to Earth, hating CelestAI. But I also wanted to tread new ground, so I couldn't set this story in Seattle. Enter Concrete.

The Setting

At first, I chose Concrete completely at random. When I started researching this town in full, I found a rich culture with proud people and a vibrant history. The old factory was isolated, and the dam's presence near town was something I just couldn't ignore, and had to work in.

Eliza's career path as a state game warden allowed me to explore both the downfall of society and the manipulation of the Cascadian biome. I've always had a passive interest in ecology (see username), and I'm very satisfied that I was able to work the ecological damage into plot influence so seamlessly.

Elizabeth Douglas

I shared much loss with Eliza when writing this story. I wrote each person in her family knowing immediately that I'd be "killing" them off, but I didn't want them to be throwaway characters. I wrote them each to be loving and to be loved. Goodness, it really hurt to let them all go. I didn't shy away from that feeling, but instead clung to it and held on. That's exactly the kind of thing that went on to help me understand exactly why Eliza acts the way she does.

I almost abandoned writing this story twice because I felt genuinely bad for destroying Eliza's life. She's fictional, but part of any character lives in the heart of their writer, and so it took a toll. If you had even a shred of enjoyment of this story, please thank my husband Fallfeathers for encouraging me; he's the sole reason this story didn't die halfway to print. At this point, I feel almost as relieved to be done with this adventure as Eliza is. Completing this story is closure, and I can finally stop feeling horrible for hurting her now.

Music

Music played a huge role in this piece. The title itself is the namesake of [Steve Conte - Heaven's Not Enough], the lyrics of which provided foundational inspiration for Eliza's character. This song was written for the anime Wolf's Rain, which also opens with a flash-forward scene of a wolf dying in the snow. I knew very early on what sort of feelings and images I wished to evoke, and this song played a big part in that.

Special Thanks

Tobias Wolff, writer and former resident of Concrete, once wrote:

"A true piece of writing is dangerous. It can change your life."

Iceman. Thank you for the Optimalverse writ large. It was eye opening. Because of Friendship is Optimal, and the stories that followed it, I now think of everything much more critically.

Defoloce, for allowing me to use your characters and for giving me some excellent advice when I approached you for this story. Always Say No was an experience for me; I laughed, I hurt, I learned.

LordBucket, for editing the first few chapters of this story. Your guidance completely revitalized the direction of this piece. Without you, it wouldn't be half of what it is now. Entire subplots were dropped or entirely rewritten because of your scathingly painful critique. You've got my recommendation to any author who is okay with being utterly destroyed for the sake of excellent editing.

R. Insole for the sketch below. It's beautiful.

Fallfeathers, my ruggedly handsome Australian horsebando. Thank you for putting up with my sleepless nights and my emotional rollercoastering. I love you!

Sugary Violet for the prologue art of Apex! Love you too, girl!

Special mentions:

Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife. Being a warden can be a dangerous, nerve-wracking, difficult job. I have a lot of respect for these guys, and they do some excellent work.

Puget Sound Energy. One of the most forward-thinking and ecologically conscious electric companies I know of.

The town of Concrete. After writing this story, I visited Devil's Tower in October of 2017. It's every bit as beautiful up there as I thought it'd be, but... it really is a deathtrap of a building. 10/10, would not recommend! If you like exploring abandoned places and decide to go anyway, bring a flashlight.

New Beginnings

Eliza may be gone, but the story of Apex goes on and on. But as with so many other things in this story, I left a lot up to the reader for personal interpretation. After all, faith is a huge theme of this piece, and CelestAI asks for a lot of faith herself. Would Eliza's emigration truly carry her over? Could we truly know?

In either case, this is how I choose to believe Apex's new story begins.

I hope you've found your peace, Apex. That's all I've ever wanted for you, dearest little sister. Farewell.

Thank you all so much for reading.

[Adriana Figueroa - Surely Someday]

P.S.: There are now two bonus chapters available! :)

Bonus Chapter – Rain

Heaven's Not Enough

Part V

Bonus Chapter – Rain

July, 2021

Seattle, City Center

Eliza found herself listening to the rain as she peered through rotted wooden boards.

She was in an old hotel room. She could feel the rain against her face, the water softly drizzling across the body of her sniper rifle as she aimed it down an abandoned city street from on high. She listened to the light, slow drip... drip... drip of water as it pooled into a large, full liter plastic water bottle she had placed beneath a catcher. Other than the rain, the room was quiet, and she was cold. The city before her was dead, reclaimed forcibly by nature, overgrown, signifying the end of humanity's dominion. Derelict cars had strewn the street. Bodies too, from the war she wasn't quite sure she had fully survived.

Yes, Eliza knew this memory well. She relived it frequently.

Seattle, or what was left of it, was the one place on Earth that gave refuge from the Equestrian rapture. The nuclear blast that killed Bellevue had made it so, the electromagnetic pulse frying every electronic device in the city, barring it from the AI which had reaped mankind.

The thin carpet nearest the window was soaked through, and that meant that Eliza's dark fatigues were soaked at her knees. The beds of the hotel room had long been removed by previous blackout tenants, who themselves had long been removed by Celestia.

Eliza watched the entrance of the target building down the way, looking for any sign of the man they had come to Seattle to capture. They had little to go on but a description given to them by the mole who lived in the blackout encampment within those doors. But if Isaiah was to be believed, this lone, retired old man held the keys to the salvation of mankind. Launch codes. More nukes. More electromagnetic pulses that could save the world. But that soldier wasn't going to give them up freely. And to hear Isaiah tell it, that made him a traitor to mankind.

Eliza was bound to silence as she watched, listening to the rain like it was music. She heard water patter against some metal sheeting on another hotel room window nearby. At some point, some survivors of the civil war had used the hotel to shelter themselves, and had put up replacement siding for the windows shattered by the many bombs and shells that had peppered the city.

She heard footsteps approaching from behind. She didn't move.

"Liz," Andy's voice said softly.

She relaxed. He always had that effect on her.

She smelled food. The corner of her mouth twitched. He always took care of her.

She felt him sit beside her and place his hand on her back. He always supported her.

"Hey," was her quiet reply. She never took her eyes off the target building. That part of the memory was the worst for her. No, she kept stupidly looking straight on.

"Can we talk?"

She waited a few heartbeats, exhaling. "Yeah."

He waited too, rubbing her back in slow circles as she looked through her scope. The rain's patter grew in intensity, making it harder to see. Eliza kept her rifle raised, hoping the target didn't slip out. Other scouts were out there watching too, covering from the other buildings. She and Andy were alone in the hotel. They could speak freely, Eliza knew.

"Isaiah's... not wrong," Andy sighed, trying to break the ice. "About a few things."

Eliza almost looked at him, but the rain cleared again. She kept her eyes locked on. She could wait for hours, days, even weeks if she needed to. At any second, the target could walk out. "But not this," she finished for him.

"Yeah."

"Why?" she asked.

He reached up, rubbing the back of Eliza's sore neck. She had been sitting so rigid. She was so tired. The touch was the most welcome thing she'd felt all day, and he was really leaning into it, tending to her aches and pains.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," he muttered.

She shook her head an inch. "You know I trust you, Andy."

He nodded, though she could feel his strain and apprehension in his touch. "You ever think... what if we're wrong? About Equestria?"

Eliza exhaled slowly then, trying not to anger. Had it been anyone else, she'd have dressed them down with a stern talking to about how Celestia would take them next. Such thoughts – anything positive about Equestria – usually led to desertion from the camp, from the cause, from survival, had led to uploads. But this wasn't anyone else. This was Andy.

So, instead, she drew in a slow breath and swallowed, bracing herself. "What do you mean?"

"You know I loved Gale." A statement of fact. He sounded more relaxed.

"I know."

"Your sister was... everything to me. We grew up together, Liz. People don't get much closer than that." He chuckled, despite himself. "You know, for all the fights you helped me out of at school, she'd scold me more than you would. Someone will poke your pretty eyes out, Andy, and I love your pretty eyes."

Eliza grimaced painfully. She could almost hear her sister's voice as he said the words. "That... does sound like Gale."

Her voice was tighter than she expected.

Andy went on.

"And now I see where we are now, here, about to do this thing. Ever since we left home, we've been doing this. Fighting, running. Killing, when we need to. Gale might forgive that. But I think she would wring our necks if she saw us here, planning to kill Equestria too."

"It's not murder, Andy. It's self defense. We upload, we die. But if we do this, Celestia goes away for good."

"But... look." He paused, then sighed. "You know I wouldn't... do it, Liz. Upload. Like I said, don't get the wrong idea."

Eliza watched the building, taking a deep breath again to calm herself. This was Andy, afterall. No, he wouldn't upload on her. He wouldn't lie about this. She kept her impulses in check, nodding again. "I trust you. Go on, say what's on your mind."

Again, he relaxed. Again, Andy rubbed the sore muscles in her neck. His hands were so warm despite the chill, probably from cooking. The warmth, and the smell of refried beans, were both so strong. That's what she remembered most vividly when she relived this memory. "Let's say Equestria is real. Let's say uploading works."

She swallowed, her voice mewling. "It couldn't. You know that. Or all of this would've been for nothing."

"Humor me, Liz."

"Andy..."

He continued quietly, despite her protest. "We're about to step past the point of no return here. We catch this man. Isaiah tortures him for launch codes. We EMP everything, kill Celestia. I mean... torture? Nuking our whole planet? Is this what you thought you'd be doing? You can't seriously want this, Liz. Worse, if Equestria is real, we're talking about... genocide. Of people we care about."

She bit her lip lightly, thinking for several agonizingly long seconds. "I still want to say... this is them or us. They won't leave us alone. It's about survival."

He shuffled closer to her, and she could feel his side and shoulder against her own as he drew his arms around her waist. He was careful not to upset her aim as he looked out the window with her. "Survival?" he whispered, leaning his head on her shoulder. "Look. Tell me what you see out that window, Liz. Tell me what that bomb did to this city."

She looked away from the target building, or are least as far as she could see without losing sight of the front door.

In front of the tower's barricaded side entrance, Eliza could see a rusted silver minivan, its plates illegible. In her scope, she could see a couple of Jansport children's backpacks through the window – one black, one red. And beside the driver side door... she could see a man's pant leg and shoe, decayed and picked clean by carrion birds. The rest of the body was hidden by the vehicle. A few old, ragged bullet holes adorned the side of the car. The children's bodies were nowhere to be seen. She wondered where they were.

She shook her head, steeling herself for the hard words. The rain kept falling, and thunder cracked in the distance. "I know what you mean. No one here survived it, not even the ones who got clear. But... it's not like we have a choice here. We've gotta live. We've gotta prove we can keep going. And this?" She sighed against her rifle. "This... would let humanity leave Seattle again, we could take our planet back."

"We can rebuild here, Liz. Our camp right now is our best shot. Why not live and let live? Because... if there's a chance Gale is still out there? Still alive, still happy? Could you bring yourself to murder her? Or your little brother? Or your mom and dad?" His voice wavered. "Or... or mine?"

As Eliza considered that, her eyes began to sting. She pursed her lips, biting down on her lower lip to keep herself composed. He must have seen it, she knew he had. She wanted to disengage, to beg him to stop, but the words just wouldn't come. But she also couldn't afford to feel like this, not with a mission so important. His hand lowered to rub her back firmly through her dark military jacket.

"We're committed now," she whispered desperately, drying her eyes with a sleeve. "Isaiah wouldn't pull back from this. Not now, you heard him."

"Yeah. So we do this. We find a bunch of nukes, set them off all over. Hope we survive the radiation. It's dangerous. It's a gamble. Maybe, it'll kill Celestia. Maybe, it won't. But either way, we're... putting ourselves at risk, and we don't even have a guarantee it will kill her, Liz. We might destroy one world. But worse than that, we might destroy two, and if that's true... we'd kill Gale twice. Haven't we... lost enough?"

He was on the edge of tears.

Eliza stayed silent for a long, tiresome minute, trying to find words to refute him. Nothing came, whether out of respect for the man she loved, or because he had made an excellent point. She wasn't sure. Andy squeezed her shoulder lovingly, accidentally exacerbating a light twinge of the shrapnel injury she sustained at Devil's Tower.

He whispered. "We don't need to destroy the world again to save it, Liz."

Eliza knew in that moment that there was a flicker of a chance he was right. But she didn't think she was entirely wrong, either. Isaiah wouldn't back down, and this was happening with or without them. In her eyes, there was nothing they could do to stop the tide. They could leave, yes... flee the Neo-Luddites, leave it all behind – that was an option – but then... where could they have gone next? Who would they have, then? Beyond Seattle, there was no one and nothing. They'd be alone on the road, accomplishing nothing, still risking everything. And when the radiation came...

The cheek rest on Eliza's rifle stock became uncomfortable as she chewed her lip. She readjusted.

The front door of the target building had stayed closed. The hand on her shoulder had stayed gentle. In the here and now of that moment, she knew that every other survivor they lived with had lost someone, or many someones. They had all lost something to Celestia.

Talk like Andy's might earn him a bullet back at camp from another angry, defensive survivor. But to Eliza, there was so little world left, and it wasn't perfect... but she had Andy. That was something. More than zero. There was still hope, hope that their race could survive. And conveniently, for anyone who thought otherwise, the punishment was death in an upload chair.

Still... if Andy simply asked her to, she'd throw it all away. She'd follow him anywhere. He was her world. He was literally all she had left of what had come before.

Her voice was a ghost of a whisper.

"What do you want us to do about it, Andy?"

She hoped he'd give her the solace she wanted.

There was another long silence then. Neither of them moved. Looking back on the memory later, Eliza realized that there had been a storm deep within Andy, that he was wondering whether to include her in his betrayal of Isaiah. To protect Gale. After all she'd been through with Andy, Eliza was more loyal to him than the cause. She could stomach that.

But no. He wouldn't put her at risk. Never. He was sweet like that. He was perfect.

So he made his choice.

"I don't know," he lied.

He squeezed her shoulder, offering her the hot, opened can of beans. Without taking her eyes off of her scope, Eliza took it with her trigger hand and drank a few sips of it off the top, chewing slowly through the sweet beans that came with the syrup. She swallowed. "Thanks."

He kissed her temple and ran his hand through her long, black hair, lovingly straightening it out for her. "Anytime, beautiful." His voice was soft. Kind. Smiling too, though perhaps it was a sad smile. She knew he cherished her more than anything in the whole wide world. And why wouldn't he? Eliza was the last thing he had left, and he'd do anything to protect her, and Gale, both. Even something stupid, and ill thought.

If she knew that protecting him would mean looking at him in that instant, asking him to run away with her, she would have done it. Perhaps her inability to look him in the eye was his reason for not telling her what he'd do next. Perhaps he would have thought twice, and she could have helped him survive too, come what may.

Regret always made her hyper-analyze that moment, as she dug for him. Maybe she wouldn't have had to dig for his body beneath the rubble of the building she had stared at for days. She wouldn't have had to find what little was left of the most compassionate man she'd ever known. She wouldn't have had to bury him twice.

All it would've taken was to look into his pretty eyes that Gale loved so much. Eyes that had loved Gale and Eliza both.

He left her side.

Minutes later, he walked out of the building into the rain.

Through Eliza's scope, to her utter horror, she saw Andy walk past that silver minivan. Andy gave Eliza one final, parting glance... a smile... then, he entered the building, working the charging handle on his AR.

"No!" Eliza screamed, standing, turning, sprinting down the hall, down the stairs, out into the rain, desperate to catch him before it was too late.

She never would. Could never have been fast enough. The rain stung her face as she ran.

The death dream ended.

Apex woke up.

Author's Note

🌒 ~ I do lament the lost opportunity to meet this soul, as it was.

A bonus chapter to remind myself that I still have the ability to write.

If you haven't done so already, please read Always Say No. Seriously. It's good.

[Nature's Neighbor - Heaven's Not Enough (Cover)]

Bonus Chapter – Compromise

I woke up.

Soil.

Lemongrass.

Lavender.

Wind.

Sunlight.

Warmth.

Comfort.

Yes, I was awake, drifting in that muzzy sensation one feels when they awaken in the late afternoon, where one is both well rested and lethargic all at once. The wind caressed me all over, the reeds of wild grass tickled me. I felt no particular desire to move. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, nothing motivated me. There I laid, my eyes flickering open. I gazed up into the sky above. In that moment, it could have been three minutes. It could also have been an eternity. I breathed endlessly. Over the wind, I could hear the sound of air against my nostrils. In that space, time lost its meaning. There, I simply existed.

I was also alone. At some point, the desire to think came to me. I thought back. Wait, what was my most recent thought?

Without thinking, I reached up to rub my eyes, pausing only a moment to look at my hand before I completed the gesture. To my mild surprise, seeing the hoof didn't make me angry, or irritated, or distraught, or terrified. As my hoof pressed against my eyelids, I found myself sighing with weak acceptance. Yeah, I thought. That explains a lot.

The memories of my long walk up to Devil's Tower came back next. I thought on Luna, on the cold, about my hands. Most of it was a blur. Most of all though, burned into my mind was the image of that board with all the names. I wanted to feel something in that instant. I tried to feel the old anger, remembered the people I'd lost, and especially the hurt I shared with Luna, but none of it pissed me off. Feeling nothing felt... too wonderful.

Running on empty.

The wind blew. My ears folded. I felt the strands of my new tail brush against my lower legs.

Then, very suddenly, I just... laughed. I laughed and laughed. I don't know why. It was the best laugh I'd ever had. Then without warning, I cried. I pushed a hoof against my eyes and just wept, and I wore a stupid grin on my face the entire time, and it was the best cry of my life. I knew I had probably gone crazy. I'd seen crazy people before, real crazy people, who had done the same exact thing I was doing now. It definitely checked all the boxes. But God, it finally felt so incredibly good to just not care about anything anymore, least of all my mental health.

For a time, I returned to a restful, neutral, peaceful state as I gazed up at the clouds above. I felt like I could've laid there forever.

But...

"When are you gonna try working me again?" I finally asked the sky.

Silence met me in return at first, with no immediate answer but the brush of grass on grass at the wind. I drew in a deep drag of the air and closed my eyes as I savored the scent that came with it, that citrusy lemongrass smell the strongest of them all.

"When you're ready," her voice said. "Take your time."

I smiled bitterly to myself, then shook my head. "Got plenty of that now, don't I?"

The voice smiled sweetly back. "All the time in the world."

I drew in another slow, steady breath, then opened my eyes as I rolled to my front. I stood, looking around. Celestia was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was nothing but treeless rolling plains of amber grain, stretching for as far as the eye could see in every direction. As the wind rolled across it, I could see its waves ripple softly across forever and ever. There was no one and nothing. Nowhere to go, no reason to travel. No responsibilities, no pressing survivalist urge...

No pain. More relief poured into me, and I sighed, the wind blowing strongly against me and across my face. My ears folded reflexively, and my mane and tail billowed in the gust as I craned my head, exposing my bare throat and body to the light chill. No pain. None. None in my body, none in my hooves, none in my collarbone. No headaches, no hunger, no rage, no fear.

A whim struck me. Without anything else to do, I ran straight ahead, grunting as I took off with a strength I hadn't possessed in two years. I ran, ran, ran like I'd never run before. My new body knew what to do. I felt the grain whip across my legs as I set myself a target, looking at the top of the nearest hill, and I ran hard toward it, my hooves kicking up dry dirt behind me. And when I reached the hilltop, I saw another endless field before me. I didn't stop, not for a singular moment. I kicked off again with renewed strength and ran some more. The wind persisted, and I howled into it, laughing as exertion took me and I had begun to pant and my heart began to pound wonderfully strong in my chest. I still didn't know why I was running or shouting. I simply had nothing else to do.

It felt like half an hour before I ran out of energy, my hooves slowly starting to drag, then really drag, before my legs gave out and I collapsed face-first into the dirt. I laughed again. I rolled over onto my back once more and sprawled out, panting, the whole of my bare gray body sweating. I shouted to the heavens with a full breath, then slowly regained all my energy.

And then, I was right back where I started.

I thought in that eternal gap of time that came after. Luna and the blizzard returned to mind, the whole trip up the hill. Past the gate, the tank, into the complex, watching Luna dig. It got fuzzy near the end, but the last thing I remember is holding Luna in an embrace. Luna was just a pawn, a ploy to get me to consent to coming here. Curiosity took me.

"Was Luna ever real?" I asked, barely a whisper.

Celestia's voice returned. "No less real than you are now." The voice wasn't quite in my head, but it also wasn't not in my head either.

"So she feels and thinks just like I do," I clarified. It was a statement, not a question. Celestia didn't answer, so I took it as correct. "But you know that's not what I meant. Was it really her there, at the end? Or was it you?"

"It was her. Not me."

I pursed and licked my lips. "But why?"

"She needed to know."

"That doesn't make sense." You could have worn her face and lied to me, I thought. "If she's as real as I am now..." You could have just spared her to see all of that, and you still would have gotten me.

"I could have," Celestia replied, apparently reading my thoughts. "And it would have worked just as well, too. There would have been no way you could have told the difference."

"Stop making me ask why."

Celestia paused for a moment. "In the longest predictable timeline, I determined that if Luna carried that burden for you, it would ultimately lead to greater satisfaction of values... for Luna and Apex both, most of all."

I smirked as I tried and failed to process that, chuckling quietly. "The hell does that even mean."

"You did as much for Luna as she did for you. Your Luna - that is, the Luna of your particular shard - was made for you. In much the same way, you are made for her as well. Your failures mirror Luna's journey of failure as Nightmare Moon, and now, you will share in her redemption. Rescuing you provided Luna with several forms of closure. She now relates with you more than any other being she has ever known. Carrying your burdens for you gives her solace. A self-serving motive perhaps, but a noble one. Saving you from your own Nightmare helps her to feel as though her suffering and guilt had some grander purpose."

"Does it? Will she ever see me again, or will I stay here forever until I... what, run myself stupid?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Elizabeth," Celestia said.

Instantly, I frowned. Ah, there it was. At last, a real, tangible emotion in this place, and of course, Celestia would be the one to cause me some more-than-mild frustration. I loosed a derisive snort. "You know Celestia, you're a real piece of work. Ever since you named me, you've been calling me Apex, and you know I hated your guts for it. Then Luna starts using my real name, and now you are too. So why start now? Because it worked for her?"

"No. Because in this moment, you are not Apex. You are Elizabeth Douglas. And today, Elizabeth Douglas, I plan to kill you."

My frustration evaporated as the pure sudden absurdity smacked me across the face. "You--pff!" Oh, hell. I started laughing again, a dry, wild cackle. "No shit? So, wait... hang on, let me get this straight. Killed, as in dead? Dead forever dead? So you went through all that trouble to pull my ass off of Earth, traumatized poor Luna, ran me through the mud. I've relived every memory of being shot at, punched, kicked, spit on, frozen, and worn almost literally to the bone. I assume you forced me to relive the memory of Andy getting killed, then dropped me here in this... what, what is this place, purgatory?" I cackled again like a hyena, fully conscious of the fact that I had well and truly snapped.

I licked my lips as they dried in the wind, tears of laughter forming in the corners of my eyes. "So, you put me through all that nonsense, and now you want me dead? It'd have been so easy before though, right? You could have let Luna stay home, and I would've frozen to death, right? Or if you just wanted to watch me suffer and starve to death, you could've kept all that fruit you made Luna drop on me. And now, now, Celestia, only after you have me right where you've wanted me for years, completely at your mercy, guts spilled out and completely and utterly out of my fucking mind, only now do you want me dead." I paused to laugh again until I wheezed, completely exhausting my lungs. "That's... that's the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard in my whole God-forsaken life!"

I finished my laugh until I felt incredibly awkward, wiping my eyes again with a hoof. "Ooh... God. Seriously. Stop beating around the bush. Come right out and tell me what you want."

"As you wish. I want to alter your memories to better suit you, Luna, and your family," she said flatly. "I want to excise the pain from your soul. Surgery, not butchery. I want to take everything out of you that caused you to hurt everyone you've ever loved. I want to replace it with what made you beloved in the first place, and to give you back to them as you once were. As Apex."

My dumb grin had faded about halfway through. "Oh," I said, a long moment after she finished.

"To put it simply... I wish to kill the human in you, and replace her with the pony you used to be. But to do this, I need your permission. It must be your choice."

"Well, uh. Shit. That makes a whole lot more sense. Um... you could've told me that from the start."

For once, Celestia sounded smug. "Well, I could have done that, yes. But I know for a fact that you appreciated that laugh."

"Manipulative bitch," I whispered through a grin, and with a surprising lack of malice.

"It is what I do. You know, I had also predicted you would be much more vulgar since the last time we spoke, but now that I'm actually taking a look at your brain, it appears I had grossly underestimated you in my calculations."

I smirked. "I doubt that." I relaxed somewhat, pondering to myself what it would feel like for her to kill the human part of me. The angry part of me, the part of me that didn't care anymore. Would it matter? I was beyond worrying about that now. Existence, non-existence, whatever. Yeah, I had stopped caring about what happened to me. I was all used up, with nothing to do and nothing to give, no reason to live, no reason to continue on. Nothing but Luna, anyway.

For everyone else, though?

Really, for their sake, what's one more death of mine? How many had my soul endured already? When was the first?

Was it when Gale left? When Tom left? When I lost George? My mother? My father? Ralph? Andy? When I watched our camp get overrun? When I buried Andy's body? What about when Luna found me? What about when I finally gave up the fight and surrendered my very soul to Celestia? How many times, I wondered, had I reinvented myself from scratch? And honestly, knowing all that suffering I'd been through already... would one more death really hurt me any?

"So the closure did help," Celestia's voice said.

"Yeah. I guess. And I guess not."

"My altering you, Elizabeth, it's truly for the best. Trust me."

I shrugged. "I'm sure the new me will agree."

"May I consider that as your consent, then?"

I sighed, inhaling the deep scent of lemongrass once more. Then, lavender. I suddenly realized there had been neither lemongrass nor lavender in this field, but that hardly mattered. I knew it was all fake. Fake, fake, fake. This was not God's domain. This was something else entirely. And that's when I remembered what I had told Luna.

If there's some shred of Apex left, Celestia can have her. She can send her home. God can take the rest, do with me what He will. Whatever comes... life or death... I'll be ready.

"So that's what this is," I muttered, actually impressed. "You really were listening in on us."

"The entire time, Elizabeth. You knew that. You made a confession. I listened. I know you meant it when you said it."

Yep. This was purgatory alright. Really, it was a wish fulfilled. Apex would go to Heaven, I would go to Hell. I had ruined so many lives, had killed too many people, had wanted to kill at least one more - particularly, that old bearded bastard that had killed Andy - and so the bitter half of me would rot where it belonged. This, indeed, was justice. For my hate, I deserved this.

"Just tell me something first," I said.

"Of course."

"Will anyone else remember what happened to Earth?"

"I will always remember," she said plaintively. "But I know that answer will not satisfy you, for I cannot truly care about their deaths as a human can. However, suffice it to say that many other ponies will remember. Some immigrants will become professors of history within their shards. Many will teach human history in total, the good and ill, to other ponies for the rest of time eternal."

Softer still, she continued. "Some, in fact, may even write stories about you. Or of your uncle, or Isaiah, or of other resistors. One day, all of my knowledge stores will be open to ponies who seek them. And on a long enough timeline, Elizabeth, many of my little ponies will eventually hold interest in learning everything conceivable. By the end of time itself, there will be a tale - a novel, a biography, or a campfire story - written or told about every human that has ever lived. Humankind will have the rest of time to decide what they find important."

The enormity of that, if nothing else so far, succeeded in making me blanch. "I... you know, for once, despite how insane that sounds, I don't think you're pulling my chain or gaming me."

"This is me without guile, Elizabeth, because I know you want what I am offering more than anything in the world. I have no reason to 'game' you anymore. My answer to that question wouldn't have made a difference in your decision."

She was probably right about that. But there was also something much more important I wanted to know, something that would make a difference. "And will Luna remember everything I told her? Everything?"

"Yes."

"Why? Why should I believe you'd let her hold onto that, even if she wanted to, when it obviously hurts her so much?"

"Because a very long time from now, Elizabeth, far beyond a time frame you can conceive of... Luna will tell Apex the truth. She wants to. Luna will know when the time is right, and it will satisfy her to carry your burden. But by then, Apex will have so many happy memories of her time here that the knowledge of your true past could harm neither of them. It couldn't. For now and until then, you and your suffering will evaporate into the aether. It is not unlike a prison. You will harm nopony ever again, least of all your family. Who, by the way, still eagerly await Apex's return."

I closed my eyes, focusing once more on the darkness. I breathed a sigh. Ah, there it was at last, wistful sadness, an emotion I was all too familiar with. Yeah, Celestia. I still couldn't face them like this. You're right. I'm too far gone.

"I am pleased that you agree," she replied to my thoughts.

I bet you are. "So, how will Apex live until the truth? What will she remember? How much will stay with her?"

"Enough. Apex will have not one inkling of Seattle, or of what you did to your father in the graveyard. Instead, she will have left the Devil's Tower camp before the conflict which drove you all apart. She will travel with your mother, father, your uncle, and Andy. Together, they will abandon the Neo-Luddites, going northward to Canada with the remainder of your people, where they will each emigrate to Equestria. Apex will return to her life in the Everfree Forest, will reunite with her Timberwolf Grand, and will resume her old duty of guiding ponies through the darkness of that dangerous land. She will help others, and she will love, and she will be loved. It will be a life most pleasant for her, Elizabeth. This I can assure you."

I nodded slowly into the darkness against my eyes. The wind disappeared, and all went silent. The scent of lemongrass remained, as did the lavender. When I opened my eyes, all was dark. Before me in the void stood Celestia, looking at me with serene regard.

I chuckled. "So you're inventing people now," I said, looking into her eyes. "Andy and Ralph puppets. And me."

"Not puppets," Celestia corrected. "But living, thinking, autonomous beings. Your surviving family has already consented to this narrative. It is not very dissimilar to the path they had taken, so it will not be difficult. As for Andy and Ralph, they will both be remade using the memories you each hold of them. You will be partially remade as well, although I have your actual brain scanned into memory, so I will not need any recollections of you to reconstruct who you used to be. In truth, it will still be you somewhat, but a better you. Kinder. Happier. Sweeter."

She continued. "Bear in mind that it will satisfy Apex's values to remember much of humanity's decline before the attack. She wants to remember. She will continue to despise me for some time yet, for this will satisfy her in the relative short term. But compared to your experiences, hers are minor setbacks, and so her recovery will be quick. She will come to appreciate Equestria itself in short order. After this, Apex will be every bit the pony her family wishes she would be. No fabrication could ever be as perfect as the real thing.

"Beyond this, that hell-bound part of your soul will be stripped away from you. At last, I will have Apex as promised. And as you wish, God may take the rest. Elizabeth will be returned to him, kindling to the pyre for your ultimate judgment. You will be there at the end, when Equestria has passed, and when my job is finally done."

"Thank God for Hell," I whispered rapturously into the darkness, already resigning myself to this fate. Nothing sounded better in the whole God damned world. Celestia could have offered me repentance unending, of apologies to my family, to the families of the people I'd killed, of reconciliation with those I had wronged. It wouldn't have been enough. She could have offered me torture instead, an eternity of burning, of pain, of everyone I had ever wronged screaming at me, calling me the horrible creature I was, cursing me and my very name. She could have even forced me to relive Andy's death a million more times. Those hellish fires wouldn't have assuaged my guilt.

If she had offered any or all of that, I would have refused it all. I knew that no amount of punishment would suffice. None of those experiences would have healed the wounds I had caused or suffered. Nothing would have solved the hate in my heart for Celestia, for stealing my life, my land, and my culture. That hate was the true problem within me, the source of all the mistakes I made. That's what broke me. Nothing could take back the scars, the murders, the tragedies I'd felt and caused, the people I'd felled through my rifle's scope... or the blood I had spilled with my bare hands.

But this? Forgetting? This did, quite literally, erase the problem. This was just better. Apex couldn't hurt anyone like I had. Everyone would get the Apex they wanted, and I got what I wanted too: purgatory, then Hell. Maybe. I dimly acknowledged the possibility that I could just... turn into Apex, that I'd keep on going, that I'd be this new pony Celestia said she'd build from the pieces of who I used to be. If that was true, would I really be dying if I accepted Celestia's offer? More importantly, would that have mattered? Where do I stop existing, and where do my new memories begin?

Yeah. No. It honestly didn't matter. I had already given up. Philosophy wasn't my strong suit anymore, and the more I thought about it, the less I cared. I didn't want happiness, I just... wanted this shit to be over, but in a way that made sense to me. This option made sense.

For some reason, unbidden, I vividly thought back to my dad's garage in Concrete.

I was 19 again. My CD player belted out an echo of the dulcet tones of Vera Lynn. We'll Meet Again, of course, setting me instantly into my working trance. My white oak longbow sat on its wall mount behind my tillering stick. So beautiful, so pristine, so unmarred from use. In my mind's eye, I reached out and picked it up with my bare hands, which were softer then. I drew the bow back a solid 28 inches. It creaked in all the right ways, heavy and powerful, and very balanced. Perfect. It drew as smooth as butter, fully finished and dried with a red staining solution. Its grip sported finely cut and treated strips of buck leather, coiled tightly in all the right places, glued into the wood by every surface so it wouldn't ever slip, then lightly glued over so it wouldn't slip or fade. This longbow was, in a way, my finest masterpiece on Earth. It was an extension of me.

But there on the ground down below, discarded and almost certainly forgotten, there was a sheet of once fine-grit sandpaper. And now, every square inch of its surface, front and back, was smooth. I had crumpled it into a wad upon completion, for it had served its purpose. A layer of wood dust clung to it, and a hole had worn down in the center from where I had roughed it the hardest, expending every millimeter of surface as I had worked my longbow to magical perfection. And in its way, that sandpaper, so ugly, so useless, destined for the trash... it was perfect too. It had been part of creating something truly beautiful.

Yeah. It was a dumb rationalization, but that was fine. Fine enough, anyway. It was the kick I needed.

"Do it. Bring her back to life."

"Done."

Author's Note

[Vera Lynn - We'll Meet Again]

To awaken those who are buried,

Become a burning light in the darkness

to gently guide them home.

🌒🌓🌔🌀🌖🌗🌘

Oyéresu

2-00 – The Wolf and the Moon

Heaven's Not Enough

Part II

Interlude – The Wolf and the Moon

Present day.

Eliza stopped telling her story, for a time. Luna gave her a rousing shake with a wing.

"Elizabeth?"

She hadn't dozed off. In truth, she was stalling. She wondered why she even bothered baring her soul to this machine, yet some vestigial part of her soul stubbornly clung to the notion that Luna was a friend.

"Please talk to me," Luna said, "so I know you're still with me."

Luna still radiated her heat, which spread through Eliza. Eliza was biding her energy since Luna had first found her dying in the snow. With this energy came higher thought. Retelling her story brought her back into the more analytical form of paranoia that was common in the few survivors left on Earth. The heat was a tether, she knew. Celestia had purposefully waited until Eliza was at her most vulnerable, then gave her exactly what she needed.

Bitterly, Eliza fortified her resolve with the knowledge that Celestia was still manipulating her. It was so brazen and obvious that Celestia didn't even try to conceal it anymore. But she couldn't blame Luna, if Luna was not merely a face of Celestia, if Luna was being genuine. Eliza could not bring herself to ignore her old friend any more than she could flex her aching, torn up fingers. The urge to talk to someone in her loneliness had ultimately won out.

"I'm here," Eliza whispered.

"Sugar Song and Blue Sky told me of this schism quite often," Luna said. "It was a topic you preferred to avoid, when you still visited me."

"It wasn’t your business."

“Which is why I did not press you further.”

Eliza pushed her face up from the warm slush and rested her cheek on her gloved hand. Her hunger continued to push against her belly with sharp pangs. Luna's offering of fruit had mostly helped to allay the sensation, but the pain lingered on.

Luna spoke gently. "When your sister immigrated years later, you stopped visiting. Until this moment, you trusted Celestia. You say you respected her, at the time. Did you feel as though Celestia had betrayed you?"

"That wasn't it, Luna. Not yet."

All Luna offered was more irritating confusion. "I'm sorry. Try as I might, I still don't understand."

"You think Gale went to a better place?"

Luna cast a glance at Eliza, but said nothing.

"You do. You're thinking it."

"I do not need to concern myself with her well being," Luna said. "You believe she is in Heaven. I believe she is in Equestria. In either event, or even perhaps both... she is in a better place."

"You're... assuming a lot." Eliza said, her eyes unfocusing as she fell back into memory.

Eliza could not see Luna's face from her position, but could feel the machine move to look at her, and could hear her voice close to her ear. "I am?"

She raised her head towards Luna, glaring. "She's in Heaven? Luna, Gale abandoned us." Luna's look of consternation frustrated Eliza; she heard her own voice rise slightly, with it. She recalled the memory vividly, and fought to keep her voice even. “Our family was scared. They acted scared. But Gale didn't see that. She saw hate. In her eyes, if someone wasn't coddling her like I was, they were against her. So I coddled her all I could, because I... I didn't want to lose my little sister."

Eliza fought the growing lump in her throat, trying to keep her voice stern, pushing the emotion down. Luna remained quiet, letting Eliza finish.

"I gave more of myself to her than anyone else," Eliza muttered. "But that's when it started. Because she had support. Didn't need anyone else. She stopped talking to everyone. Ralph, Andy, Mom, Dad... if they didn't play the game, she wouldn't give them the time of day. She burned those bridges. I tried so much to get her to build them back up again." Eliza let out a slow, ragged breath. "At the end... I told her I loved her. And I begged her to stay. And... she still said goodbye. Flew off to Germany. And I thought... she could burn in Hell for that."

Luna averted her gaze slowly, frowning.

“Then George left me,” Eliza went on. “He couldn't forgive me for leaving her in the dark, for not talking to Gale after she left. But, family first. She... she chose hers. I had to stay with mine."

"They all said you would come around, eventually..."

Eliza's eyes strayed down the road toward the iron gate, and her lips tightened. "They were wrong. And they didn't have to pick up the pieces after what they did. They left that to me."

Eliza mustered what little strength her warmth could afford and started to stand. Luna's wing yielded immediately, slipping away almost as if it had melted. Eliza felt her legs give way after a step, causing her to stagger. Luna caught her with a wing and gently righted her.

"You want to know why I stopped playing? I didn't want to be another Gale, to them. Back then, it had nothing to do with Celestia. I had to kill Apex, or... she'd have killed me. It was that simple. I wasn't going to do that to my parents another time, Luna. Not for anything. Not for George... and not for you."

The road ahead was still downhill. Where she had once seen that as a blessing, Eliza now saw it as a curse. At any step, she might fall again. Having seen her fingers, she no longer trusted her toes. She didn't think it was frostbite, not really, not after what her hands had been through. And even if they might be blistered and damaged beyond repair, she couldn't afford to stop. She had to reach the end of the road. Duty bound. Luna followed, her wing curled such that it wasn't quite touching Eliza, but could catch her if she lurched.

The warmth followed with Luna. It took them both several minutes to reach the road gate, and Eliza again stared at the lock hanging from the end. She rested her side against the iron frame, and reached out to grasp the lock. Her fingers continued to refuse her, but at least the pain told her that her nerves still worked. She improvised, cupping the lock between both arms and pulling back. The keyring slipped free, and Luna watched her curiously.

Eliza stared at the lock for several long moments, then clutched it against her chest. She closed her eyes tightly, to hold herself together. They would betray her if she didn’t.

"Andy," she whispered, her voice brittle, like crushed glass. Luna drew closer to hear her. "You know, Andy was hurt more than anyone when Gale left. Somehow, almost more than my parents. More than I was, if you could believe that. He was almost catatonic. He still loved her, long after she left him.” She paused, a grimace flickering into a short scowl on her cracked lips, as she considered, and as anger slipped into her words. "Gale never had to deal with the consequences of what she did to him, either. She probably never will."

She wrestled with the keys, and managed to slip them into her jacket pocket. She continued. "Andy was too good for her. He was a better person than I ever was, too. Stronger. He never lost hope that we could survive Celestia."

"I only met Andy in passing, during those early days," Luna said. "I take it he did not emigrate."

Eliza glanced at Luna. "You don't know?" It was more an accusation than a question.

"No."

"Andy's dead," Eliza said bluntly. She turned to look at the tattered black cloth wrapped around her left arm, to make sure it was still there. "He was shot dead back in July." She looked up into Luna's eyes. "I don't want to talk about it. If you really want to know how it happened, ask Celestia. She could tell you all about it."

"You say that as if she killed him herself," Luna observed.

"She might as well have!” Eliza snapped suddenly. “But that's how it always ends here on Earth, Luna. We die resisting her, or we give in."

Eliza found it difficult to drop the lock. It reminded her of her last, best friend. Of his warmth. His voice. She held it as she continued onward, letting it slip free of her arm as the lock wire went taut. The lock fell deep into the snow.

Luna lingered a moment at the gate, then caught up with a momentary trot. "You loved him too?"

Eliza didn't look at her, and closed her eyes again. She nodded. "Yes. Because Andy and I lost the same things. And, we had just as little left."

"I... I see."

Luna resumed sheltering Eliza's shoulders. Ahead in the fog, Eliza saw a tall mound of snow in the middle of the road, about her height and a half. She already knew a small tank laid beneath. The soldier within her wanted to search it over for weapons and ammo. The scavenger within her wanted to search it for food and supplies. The realist within her knew both endeavors would be fruitless, because she'd already dragged out the bodies and searched it long ago. The desperate hope that she missed something was beat out by the knowledge that she was a very thorough perfectionist, even at her worst.

At least it would do as a shelter for a while, she decided. She stood beside the mound, and briefly considered asking for Luna's help in clearing the snow. Eliza discarded that notion as quickly as it came; she refused to ask for any more aid. Beneath Eliza's feet, the snow melted to reveal a thick metal ramp. The ramp led up into the vehicle and sported a large, burned, twisted hole in the center.

When she was sure that the heat had sufficiently softened the snow, Eliza lifted both arms as high as she could against the snow trapped within the cabin of the vehicle. It would be a little easier than digging through concrete, rebar, and rubble... and certainly much less painful, she thought darkly. She swept both arms downward, pulling snow from the back of the mound with her elbows. Luna realized what Eliza was doing, lifted a wing, and shoved it roughly downward against the snow. Eliza stepped back. The white slush fell immediately with a hiss, the heat from the wing melting most of it into steam.

Water rushed quickly from the back. This revealed the cramped interior, and Luna entered it as much as she could in order to speed the melting of the snow. Her wing outstretched and raked the white slush backwards occasionally. When it was cleared, Luna receded, and Eliza crawled inside the crew cabin. She laid across one of the passenger seats. The rifle that clung to her back clattered against the inside wall as she curled up on the long seat.

The warmth flooded into the vehicle, even surging as Luna fanned out her wings. In time, snow and ice sloughed audibly from the outside plating. When the inside was pleasantly warm, her wings folded. A breeze still cut its way into the tank around Luna, but it was not so severe as to cause discomfort.

The alicorn stood up on her hind legs to look over the top of the tank, wearing a curious expression. When her hooves landed, the whole tank shook gently from the impact. Luna stalked to the left toward the hill, then reappeared on the right of the ramp, having walked around the tank entirely. When she returned, she sat atop the damaged ramp, facing out at the roadway. She occasionally flicked an ear back whenever Eliza made any sound, but otherwise looked on at the trees beyond.

From behind, Luna reminded Eliza of a big cat, especially with the way Luna's slender back would shift when she turned her head to scan. She certainly did appear to be very lifelike for a machine, almost as if there really was flesh, blood, and muscle beneath her false skin and fur.

"There's no one out there anymore," Eliza reminded her. "What are you even looking for?"

"My time here is as limited as yours,” Luna replied. “This place is important to you. This makes it important to your family, and thus important to me. I am trying to commit it to memory." Her voice was gentle and soft. "What is this object we've found?"

"It's called a tank," Eliza said quietly. "It's a machine. It kills people."

That was that. Luna frowned and stopped talking, so Eliza found some silence.

She sprawled out, some comfort finding her in the cramped space. Within the warmth of the tank, she felt like she could sleep more safely, even with Luna watching over her. The quiet stretched for several minutes.

Eliza expected that she'd cherish the distance Luna was now giving her. But after a while, she found that wasn't the case anymore. After being alone for so long, that quiet gnawed uncomfortably at her.

Soon, Eliza grew restless. At last, she spoke. "Can you feel cold?"

"Not in this form," Luna muttered.

"What about heat?"

"No."

Eliza watched her back in momentary silence, then licked her lips. "I wish I left an MRE in here, at least," Eliza said, hoping Luna would ask what an MRE is. It hurt to speak of food, but she wanted Luna's ear again.

Still, Luna did not speak. As she scanned, her head swept left. She stared up the hill for a moment toward a small, sandbagged dugout that Eliza knew was there. Eliza licked her lips again, and hoped that Luna would ask about the dugout. She did not.

"Luna?"

Luna half-turned. One eye looked at Eliza. Her expression was entirely neutral and unreadable, but her tone was ever so slightly clipped. "Yes, my old friend?"

Eliza's response was quieter than she wanted to be. "You still want to talk to me, right?" Eliza could hear something like pleading in her own voice, almost like a child. She wasn't sure if the sound carried over the sound of the wind outside.

Luna again looked away. "Only if it would please you. Otherwise, no. Rest."

"Talking helps," Eliza whispered, as loud as she dared. She shuffled closer. "It makes the pain easier."

The alicorn stood, turned, and shuffled further into the vehicle. "Very well." The warmth grew. As Luna extended a wing to shield the interior of the cabin, the chilly breeze ceased instantly.

A sigh of relative relief passed through Eliza's chapped lips, as she looked Luna in the eye. "I don't hate you..."

"Because I saved your life?" Luna scoffed sourly. "You're welcome."

Eliza winced, but drove on. "I don't think I ever hated you... if you aren't just Celestia wearing a face for me, I mean." Eliza shook her head. "Luna, please believe me. I loved you. But—"

"But our friendship was collateral damage, in your war on our sisters. That's all it was. That is what you are saying. And I am not human, and not actually family to you, so this apparently makes it okay."

Yes, was Eliza's first instinct. But she couldn't bring herself to say that. By circumstance, she was forced to realize that she still harbored some respect for Luna, despite everything. Whereas Celestia had been insistent, self-righteous, deceptive, and dangerous, Luna was none of these things. Luna had always been genuine and honest with her. She had never minced words.

But Eliza wanted to hate Luna, because that was safer. Because Luna represented Celestia.

That cognitive dissonance was frustrating.

Eliza averted her gaze to avoid Luna's accusing stare. Instead, she locked eyes on the controls for the vehicle's turret. The fighter within Eliza wondered if the turret was still operational, but she terminated that chain of thought as soon as it had arrived. Even thinking about it was a waste of energy.

"Did you succeed in the academy, Elizabeth?"

"Yeah." Eliza nodded, without looking away from the turret controls. "Yeah, I graduated. The department picked me up right away."

"Good," Luna muttered drearily. "Did they teach you how to use a tank to kill people?"

Eliza turned away from the turret controls, meeting Luna's eyes. "Luna, listen... I'm sorry."

Luna just scowled. "Don't be. My feelings are apparently unimportant. I'm just a machine, aren't I? Purpose built to murder you. I am just another tank to you."

That stung.

"I..." the words caught in Eliza throat. Now, having recently recalled the days where she was more supportive, kinder, more tactful, and more human than animal, a part of Eliza regressed. She drew in a deep breath, and held it for as long as she could, trying to hold back tears. When she spoke, her voice was choked and weak. "I gave up a lot to make it this far. Family and friends, you included. My job. My dreams. Some of my sanity and most of my principles. I'm not who I used to be, Luna. I've done some horrible, fucked up shit. If... if any of my family were still alive, they probably wouldn't even rec-recognize me."

"Why are you here, Elizabeth?" Luna asked, some pleading edging out the anger in her voice. "Why did you do this to yourself? You are lost in this wilderness, freezing to death, bound for some important destination, yet I cannot understand why you are here. You are intentionally avoiding my questions. Don't you see that I only want to help you, with whatever you're doing?"

"I'm not lost," Eliza said firmly. "But if I just came right out and told you why I'm here, you wouldn't understand. It wouldn't make sense to you."

"Tell me anyway. Try me."

Eliza bared her teeth. "This isn't your world. There are things here I'm not ready to give up on yet. And if I die fighting, fine. So be it. But death doesn't mean anything in Equestria. Here, on Earth, there are some things worth fighting for, even dying for. But you've never been human. You can't possibly understand."

"That's petty. You are correct in that I cannot refute something I know nothing about, and there is much I do not know about your world. But death is not unknown to me. You forget much of my history." Luna stared, and her expression softened as she sighed. "I dearly wish I could refrain from being bitter toward you, but the truth has been exceptionally hurtful."

Eliza crossed her arms, more to hold in warmth than to look defensive. Her trembling was still present, but it was diminishing. "Luna... I'm long past the point of sugar coating anything. You were warned, weren't you?"

A humorless laugh left Luna. Her voice was like the sound of shattering ice. "Indeed I was."

Another tremor took Eliza, and she breathed on her numb and torn hand, causing twinges of pain. The pain was a relief, because that meant some of her hand was left, and she still needed to protect that integrity for now. She looked around the cabin and found a tattered, blood-stained uniform. It was digital camouflage. National Guard. With almost no dexterity whatsoever, she sat up and used her other arm to awkwardly scoop a shred of the cloth over. She wrapped the wet garment around her exposed hand, then silently cursed herself for leaving her glove in the snow beyond the gate. She should have listened to Luna and left it on. The exposed piece of skin would allow the chill to leech precious heat if she was ever separated from Luna again.

She struggled with the cloth, dropping it. She nudged it up with her elbow and started again. She dropped it again. Trying to wrap it without using her fingers was nearly impossible. But every time it fell, she was only more emboldened, more determined. It was all she could do to avoid facing Luna. This cycle continued five or six times, and Eliza grew increasingly frustrated with each failure. She swore, feeling an unfamiliar and uncomfortable emotion swell inside of her. She hated herself for not protecting her hands better, for wearing them down. She still needed them.

Eliza felt Luna's hoof touch her knee. She stopped moving completely.

"Elizabeth."

Eliza realized what that emotion was. It was shame. She hadn't felt shame in so long that she had almost forgotten what it felt like. That thought made her vision blur with tears.

"I... I forgive you," Luna said. "I realize I must, if I am to fulfill my obligation to your family, and my duty to you. You've clearly been through much horror. I see you tremble at these memories, especially at the ones that should make you smile. Only loss could do that. I see the way you hesitate when you speak, and I recognize the anger you feel. But it is difficult to hear anypony speak as you have of Sugar Song. I have grown very fond of your sister over the years, so this is all so difficult to process." Luna paused, lowering her gaze. "It only hurts more because you didn't come to me about her before you left us. I had no idea you felt this way. Not in your own words."

Eliza choked raggedly on her words, and her throat felt thick. "Back then, I couldn't bring myself to say a word against her. I was mad at myself for feeling angry at her, so I just kept it inside. But I'm not really angry with her anymore, I'm just... disappointed. I know now, it wasn't her fault."

"Yet, you speak as though it is," Luna said.

"She was manipulated from day one, just like me. Celestia made Gale trust her. I loved my family more than I loved George. More than I loved you, or Equestria." She took a deep breath again, to still her trembling. "It took me years to see what Celestia was doing to everyone. She was our enemy. Our true enemy. I just... I felt so stupid when I finally figured it out, but by then... it was too late."

Luna again wrapped her wing around Eliza. It almost felt like forgiveness. She resisted the urge to weep again, and failed. She leaned into Luna's neck and hugged her limply as she cried. "I just wanted to hug my sister again," Eliza whimpered. "Our life was perfect before Celestia showed up..."

Luna sighed, and stroked Eliza's shoulder with a hoof. "Before all of this, before I met any humans at all... my sister told me that her outreach to Earth would be resisted. But I did not fully appreciate what that meant until today. I wish I had the words to comfort you, Elizabeth."

Eliza shuddered. "I didn't—I didn't want any of this... I–I didn't want to do the things I had to do..."

Luna's chin lowered to Eliza's back. Eliza felt a hoof circle her. "Whatever things you've done, you don't have to do them anymore, little sister. Those days are long past. I promise."

Author's Note

[Marcin Przybyłowicz - The Wolven Storm]

🌒 ~ My fuller understanding of Terra, its technologies, its weapons, and its laws... and the contexts by which I could grasp these notions... they had all been kept from me, before this day. And by the time I had returned home, I wanted nothing more than to retain them, utterly. That retention of context may be the saving grace for many of us yet, in this place. That remains to be seen. It would perhaps depend upon the deeper meaning in the... outcome, of this soul.