Laments of the Dimension-Stranded ⁽ᴿᵉᵐᵃᵏᵉ⁾

"One! Two! Three! Four! Hoo! Haa! Augh!"

Rainbow counted and grunted in tune with the rhythm of her exercises, her heart thrumming as she skipped, hopped, twisted and jumped. The scorching black pavement of the auto repair shop's parking lot seared her hooves unremittingly, but she paid no mind. Despite being unable to fly, she was determined to experience a real workout in order to discharge all of the energy she naturally mustered from being athletic.

Panting rhythmically in tune with her rapid heartbeat, she decelerated, trotted in place, then gradually came to a halt. She beamed with gratification. Nothing quite brightened her mood like a session of intense exercise. She pursed her lips as she pondered new thoughts which entered her dopamine-swamped brain. She recalled having slept curled up on the passenger seat of a Mazda parked inside the workshop the night prior, then having awakened early the next morning with an intense craving for physical exercise. She hadn't spoken to her acquaintance yet.

After a bout of stretching, she neared the auto shop's emergency exit. Deliberately, the door had been propped open with a stack of heavy cinder blocks, allowing unimpeded passage through. She passed the threshold and stepped beneath the cool shade provided by the roof.

She found him seated, motionless, in the driver's seat of a Ponetiac Flamebird with his gaze affixed to the car's metal roof as if he were counting the individual patches of rust.

"You get any sleep?" Vincent swiveled in the seat, withdrew his legs from beneath the steering wheel, and exited the vehicle.

"Enough." She moved aside to provide room for him to exit. "You said you're looking for parts, right? What are you building? Why can't we just leave now?"

"'What am I building?'" He pointed to the silver machine held aloft in midair by the gigantic lift, gesturing with both of his wrists and swinging his arms. "That little number right over there: my Magnum Opus. It’s a beautiful pickup. Or at least, it was before I started jury-rigging parts. It's not in perfect shape, but it should get us from point A to B. I just need a way to jumpstart the dead battery." He clicked his tongue in disapproval as he scrutinized the vehicle, searching for minute details Rainbow lacked the right expertise to see unaided.

"You're really an engineer? Is it hard?"

"Mechanic," he corrected, raising a finger, "not engineer. And, no, it's not that difficult when you learn the basics. I picked it up easily enough."

"What's the difference?"

"One's paid twice as much and respected a lot more." He chuckled flatly. “When I was younger, I thought I'd get into engineering. That sure didn't pan out."

She tilted her head to the side. “You seem like a smart-enough guy. What happened?”

"I made some bad choices." He nodded sagely, then paused. In the silence that followed, he quickly claimed the opportunity to change the topic of conversation. "Are you ready to throw our new neighbors a welcome party?"

"Really? But you said we should steer clear of them."

"Well, this morning I realized they probably have supplies. Or a car. And if it's a running car, it's got juice."

"That’s a stretch. You have no idea who they are. Even if they do have stuff, you’re thinking of stealing from them?” She frowned disapprovingly.

"Trade and help each other out, maybe, in the best case scenario. We'll see what happens."

Rainbow voiced a question she had intended to propose for a while. "Why don't you just use the parts from those?" She gestured to the vehicles stationed in the corner of the workshop.

"I don't need parts right now; I need electricity. Battery for the truck is out. Those things are junk, anyway, even the Ponetiac there. Most of the valuable parts were picked clean by the guys used to work here. They didn't get a chance to siphon the gas, though, so those corpses weren't completely useless." He knelt on a knee and assumed direct eye contact, then released a sigh. "Look, I know you can veto this immediately, but I think you should stay here where it's safe."

"No way! I'm coming with you. You need backup."

“You’d just get in the way! I'll be back soon, trust me. It'll only take a few hours."

She immediately shook her head and expressed her firm disapproval, but he disregarded her. He neared the workbench where he stored personal belongings and lifted his hunting rifle where it had been leaning against the concrete wall. He detached the magazine, clutched ammunition delicately in the palm of his right hand and effortlessly used his thumb and pointer finger to smoothly insert the rounds, then reinserted the magazine.

Admittedly, she marveled at the dexterity of her human acquaintance's hands, but, simultaneously, she also was disgusted by the sheer complexity of the machine of death. The artistry required of humans to invent machines with so many moving parts was incomprehensible. They were brutish, yet clever when necessary for use in warfare—a tragic combination, she cleverly noted.

He slipped the backpack's straps over his shoulders and tightened their fit so the straps hugged him securely, then suspended the rifle over a shoulder by its sling. He glanced in her direction, and, noting she watched him intently, he nodded and released a sigh of defeat. "You really are that stubborn, huh? Alright, well, I'm heading out now. If you need anything, grab it quick."

"Aye. Be back in a sec'." She saluted casually and sloppily, not thinking much of it.

"Hey!" He pointed a finger accusingly, sporting a hostile glare in response to her disrespectful behavior. "Do it right or don't do it at all."

Rainbow frowned, unsure of her wrongdoings at first. Then, she recalled how it was considered disrespectful for civilians to salute EUP Royal Guards or Wonderbolts, especially if said civilians performed the salute incorrectly. Though she wasn't a civilian, her superior, Captain Spitfire, certainly would have chastised her for her indecency if she were on-duty.

Firstly, she straightened her posture, then placed her hooves the signified length apart, firmly planting them against the concrete floor with an audible clop. Finally, she aligned her hoof to her forehead in a singular smooth, sharp motion, precisely as she had been formally instructed by her captain.

Vincent scrutinized her posture with narrowed eyes. "Okay. Not bad. I've seen worse. At least your posture is straight and you look like you give half a shit."

"My captain taught me well." She relaxed and lowered her hoof to the ground. "You were in service, and they taught you how?" she astutely estimated.

"Yeah. Among other things. That was years ago in '02. They set me straight, alright."

"Do you want to talk ab—"

"No."

She hung her head disappointedly. "Maybe later?"

Rainbow brushed sweat from her forehead using her healthy left wing. She sighed with frustration. The rolling hills and intermittent patches of trees obscured vision. If she were capable of flight, she could easily spot their targets while airborne, though, unfortunately, she was forced to remain grounded.

“Are you sure you know where we're going?"

"I won't turn us in circles. Trust my sense of direction.” Vincent slung his rifle over his shoulder and withdrew a little cardboard box from a pocket of his jeans. He plucked a small, white and orange cylinder from within before slipping the box back into his pocket. He wielded a lighter and rolled a thumb over the wheel, summoning sparks, then cradled the cigarette and lighter with both hands to shelter them from wind. Satisfied with the orange glow which emitted from the tip of the cigarette, he pocketed the lighter and puffed liberally.

"What's that?"

He exhaled a small volume of smoke. "It eases the nerves. You want one?"

“Nah, not interested, just curious. Hey, if you've been here for so many years, how do you still have some of them left? Do you space 'em out that well?"

“Sort of. The manager was a huge smoker. He had packs in his office and the truck. With my own, they've all lasted me this long. I—” He cut himself off and shot a hand into the air vertically in a "halt" motion. He promptly spat out the cigarette and stomped on it a few times to extinguish it.

Ahead, nestled in a small, inconspicuous clearing, were a cluster of outbuildings and a strip of black pavement. A short asphalt road. The mysterious, powerful force that had ripped the circular disk of ground from somewhere and deposited it onto the surface of Nowhere had done so erroneously. The pavement was several feet above the ground atop a chunk of earth.

"Let’s go welcome our new neighbors to the neighborhood.” He unslung his hunting rifle, planted one hand around the under-barrel grip, and curled his opposite hand around the stock with his pointer finger hovering near the trigger.

Warily, she eyed the weapon he brandished. “You aren’t going to hurt them, right?”

He narrowed his eyes as he meticulously scanned the windows and rooftops of the distant buildings in search of movement. "I’m protecting us."

"Why do you think they're dangerous? Do you trust anyone at all?"

"No. You'd be smart not to, as well." He gestured with his head, indicating she should follow, and began descending the hill.

"Yeah, well, you aren't ever gonna make friends with that attitude. You could live your whole life being paranoid. See how far that gets you.”

Rainbow shrugged her shoulders anxiously. His words had instilled doubt in her. No matter how she tried, she couldn't shake the paranoid feeling that ambushers waited for them.

"We'll be fine if you stay calm,” he reassured her. "And tight-lipped."

A car lied among the tall grass adjacent to the elevated road. The hood was open, and its guts had been painstakingly extracted. One of the tires and its accompanying rim had been detached from the axel. Vincent eyed the butchered vehicle curiously as he approached. "Someone here wanted parts," he mused.

He utilized the abandoned car by climbing onto its roof to give himself a boost. He tossed his rifle onto the plateau, leapt off of the vehicle, and caught the edge of the pavement with both hands. He bent his elbows and yanked himself upward. Again, Rainbow marveled at his sheer strength.

Leaping onto the road was effortless. She hopped onto the abandoned car and effortlessly launched herself into the air and onto the pavement using her muscular legs.

Vincent nodded approvingly at her maneuver, impressed. He retrieved his rifle from where he had tossed it and gripped it securely in both hands, then proceeded to creep down the street cautiously.

Rainbow swept her gaze across windows, doorways, and rooftops, searching for movement or signs of recent habitation. The unidentified buildings were small, no larger than mere sheds. They looked decrepit and abandoned, lacking obvious signs of occupancy.

A colorful poster caught her attention. It was a poster designed to caution readers of local hazards with its red and gray warning symbol. The text was composed of foreign, illegible letters. They resembled the modern Equestrian alphabet vaguely, but with reversed, upside-down, or otherwise warped characters.

“Can you read this?”

He squinted, and his eyes flicked across the hazard sign as he studied the letters. “It’s definitely a Slavic language. I'm not sure which one exactly.”

“Which means?”

“Which means no, I can't read it, and no, we might not be able to communicate with these guys if we actually manage to find them. Shit.” He pinched his nose in frustration.

“So how are we supposed to tell them we’re friendly?"

“We could just go with plan B."

She promptly opened her mouth to retaliate, but he shushed her by extending his pointer finger upwards. “Cut the chatter. We need to move on."

“What if the parts are already attached? Did you think of that? What are you going to do, take the whole thing apart on the fly? I'd like to see that." She rolled her eyes defiantly.

He dismissed her protests with a wave of his left hand. He resumed clutching the under-barrel grip of his rifle and continued stealthily creeping down the asphalt road.

“You’re making me regret this.” She watched him silently open a door and sneak through, then reluctantly followed despite her better judgment.

He quickly searched the garage, and wherever his eyes went, his rifle followed. When he determined they were alone, he relaxed his posture and lowered the gun.

When he spied a car parked ahead, he cocked his eyebrows. “Hello there, beautiful.” He slung his rifle over his shoulder, then opened the driver’s side door and reached into the interior of the vehicle to yank a lever and pop the hood.

Rainbow’s ears raised as she detected a noise from outside. She almost dismissed it as her imagination, but when the unidentified noise repeated, it confirmed the worst of her anxious thoughts: they were footsteps. She had no time to turn around. Behind, a deep, gruff male voice spoke in a foreign tongue, with guttural, trilling pronunciations of words.

Vincent stiffened. She copied his movements as he slowly rotated to face those who had slunk behind them. Her eyes drifted between the three strangers who crowded into the garage. Though they were equally as bulky and burly as her companion, and they wielded rifles, their eyes bulged, and they looked just as confused and apprehensive as she felt.

"Any chance you guys speak English?”

The men flinched. The frontmost man in the squad aimed his rifle and uttered another string of foreign words. His tone sounded aggressive, threatening.

Vincent withdrew a metal chain that had been concealed beneath his shirt. Attached to the metal chain were two flat ovoid sheets of metal which displayed stamped text. He flourished them pointedly. “My name is Vincent Mills. I’m American. You guys are Czechs? Romanians? Sorry, I haven’t brushed up on my knowledge of European flags in, uh, years.”

With two fingers, the frontmost man in the squad touched the small badge depicting a flag below the collar of his blouse. He brushed the dog tags hanging from his neck, suspended by a silvery chain. He shook his head. “It no longer matters.” His accent was thick and challenging to comprehend.

“So you do know what I’m saying.” Vincent maintained unwavering eye contact. “What do you mean, 'it doesn’t matter'? We don’t need to do this. I'm just looking for some car parts."

The frontmost soldier subtly leaned forward. His eyes expressed elevating interest. “You had a vehicle?”

“It doesn't run anymore. Hasn't for a long time.” Vincent maintained a consistent neutral facial expression. He meticulously selected which words to say, attempting to defuse the escalating situation that threatened to erupt. “Just some junk I thought I'd try to get running again."

The men leered among each other. "And it has fuel?" The frontmost soldier in the group leaned closer. He expressed vehement desire behind his eyes.

Vincent cursed. He waved his hands in a bid to retain control of the situation, but, ultimately, the soldiers were undeterred. It seemed a peaceful solution to the conflict had been rendered impossible. He dropped his hunting rifle with a sigh and surrendered by extending his arms away from his body and splaying his fingers.

The squad leader barked orders to the underlings in his native tongue. One of the men retrieved some rope hanging from a peg protruding from the wall, then confiscated Vincent’s rifle and bound his wrists together behind his back to ensure he was completely defenseless.

Rainbow considered attempting to flee or to stealthily creep away, but all disloyal thoughts abandoned her mind when she witnessed Vincent being shoved and bullied by the three dangerous thugs. He was her only potential friend, and they coerced him with threats of violence.

"Come on." The leader aimed his rifle at her, forcing her to comply. Reluctantly, she stepped in line beside her friend. They were led outside and ordered to march. Vincent was shoved aggressively and he stumbled with a grunt, tripping over his own feet.

Rainbow glanced into the sky as she weighed her options. She concentrated and desperately attempted to devise a plan to resist. Surely without use of her wings, and lacking any tools at her disposal, attempting to overpower three armed soldiers would be an ill-advised plan. However... Her eyes flicked back and forth as she devised a devious scheme. She only required was speed and accuracy. Fortunately, those were skills she had practiced all her life.

“Hey.” She looked up at the armed soldier who marched beside her.

“Hmm?" The man made a quizzical noise and gazed down at her.

“I’m gonna feel bad doing this, buddy, but you are threatening me and my friend with violence, so I think it’s justified at this point. Sorry!” She shifted her weight and, swiftly and precisely, delivered a buck directly into the man’s knee. He crumbled under his own weight with a cry of pain and shock. She kicked his rifle away, then rammed her rear hoof into the second soldier's gut with lightning-fast speed, toppling him onto the ground before he could react.

Vincent threw his entire body weight onto the leader and swept the man off of his feet. They flopped onto the pavement in synchrony. “Shit!” He scrambled onto his knees and wiggled his wrists, straining the ropes which bound his hands together, but there wasn’t enough time for him to free himself.

Noticing a soldier grasping for his rifle hurriedly, Rainbow bucked his arm aside and leapt onto the gun. With a herculean effort and a grunt of exertion, she hefted the immensely heavy and unwieldy device with both forelegs while sitting on her haunches. She barely managed to aim the heavy barrel.

“You're struggling!" One of the soldiers taunted her as he rose to his feet, inched closer, and reached for the weapon.

“You shouldn't have thought I was harmless! Dang, this thing is heavy...” She planted the rifle's stock between her legs to distribute a portion of its weight onto the ground so she could hold it while straining less. Obediently, the soldier ceased inching closer. He scowled.

“Cut him free. He has a knife on his side there. Use it.” She oversaw that the soldier freed Vincent of his bonds. She eyed the other men warily. She coerced those who refused to remain still with threatening motions.

Vincent swiped the hunting knife from the soldier’s grasp and sheathed it safely after his hands were freed. “Give me the gun!” He waved his hands urgently. “Toss it to me! Now!”

She glanced at him, paused with nervous sweat pouring from her forehead, then swung her forelegs and awkwardly tossed the weapon in his direction.

Vincent leapt for the rifle, snapped it from the air, and raised it.

All order was lost, and chaos broke out.

The deafening eruption of explosions made her flinch and cry out. She dove onto the asphalt, cowered, and clamped her hooves over her ears. Alarmingly, gunfire was exchanged all around. Despite her hooves enveloping her ears, her hearing was sensitive enough that the muffled bangs and rapid successive pops caused her to repeatedly flinch. A bullet narrowly zipped past her head and ricocheted off of the pavement with a dramatic ZING!

When the oppressive cracks of gunfire concluded, Rainbow dared to slowly raise her head and look around. She spotted Vincent close by, kneeling and panting stressfully. He waved to signal he was okay. Disoriented and incapable of responding, she could only blink and repeatedly wince at a headache throbbing in her temples.

The world was still. The wind breathed, blowing a lock of her mane into her eyes. She ceased holding her breath and finally released it, then shakily inhaled fresh air.

One tiny glance in the direction of the bodies revealed everything. Discarded rifles. Yellow-green protective garb and helmets. Brown boots. Pale faces. Real, expressive faces, locked in horrific grimaces of anguish. She briefly glimpsed a pair of glassy eyes which stared directly at her before she forced herself to look away. Bile seethed in her throat. “NO!” She bowed her head in a solemn gesture of mourning. Her face scrunched as emotion overwhelmed her and tears leaked from her clenched eyes, streaking down her cheeks and matting her facial fur. A vacuum quaked deep within her core, her stomach curling into a knot and collapsing inwards, eating her alive from the inside out.

When she raised her head, she noticed Vincent unsystematically rummaging through the soldiers’ pockets and pouches for magazines and other useful supplies. She avoided eye contact. As she turned and stumbled a short distance away, she felt his eyes on her.

He retrieved one of the Kalashnikov-style rifles the soldiers had wielded and ejected the curved polymer magazine. He shook it to estimate how full it was, then reinserted it.

Rainbow's mouth fell agape in incredulity at his indifferent attitude. White-hot fury bubbled in her throat, and her body trembled with anger. “You killed them!” She thrusted one of her hooves forward to point accusingly. Hot tears burst from her eyes like lava exploding from an erupting volcano.

Vincent's eyebrows raised in shock. He spread his arm in a gesture that expressed exasperation. “Jesus, they were going to do the same to us! What's your problem?!" His tone was cruel and blunt in its expression, as fine and precise as a honed shaving razor.

“Argh! What's wrong with me?!" Rainbow stomped the pavement so forcefully, it elicited a painful protest from her muscles. “Go jump off a bridge with your wings tied!” She stomped across the road and leapt off of the plateau without a moment of hesitation. The landing was hard and painful. She bent her knees to partially absorb the shock of the impact and grunted with exertion.

She swiped her foreleg across her eyes to brush tears away. With no method of expelling the energy she harbored within, she hyperventilated, pacing in circles until finally collapsing onto her haunches. Her body fell limp, and her head bowed low. The fury within her faded, and all that remained was a cold, lonely sensation of despondency.