//------------------------------//
// Whistleblower 
// Story: Hard Deadline 
// by libertydude 
//------------------------------//

The train steam mixed with the setting sun to create a beautiful panorama. The view made Price feel a tad sentimental, though he didn’t reveal it to Sugar through his stoic face. She stood next to him, a heavy suitcase in hoof and a heavier heart in her chest.
“Do I really have to leave so soon?” she asked.
“Yes,” Price said. “Like you said, Johnny owns this town. You’ll be lucky to get out with all your hooves if you stay even into the evening.”
Sugar stared down at the cracked green platform. “I care for him, you know. I’m not one of those mob girls who just stuck with him for kicks, you know?”
“I know.”
Tears began to fill her eyes. “I didn’t want to see him in jail. But I didn’t want to see other ponies hurt.”
“It was a tough choice. You made the right one.”
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “I don’t want him to be in there any longer than he needs to. Just long enough to get his head straight.”
He may be there longer than that, Price thought. Obsidian orbs are borderline life sentences these days. Sugar’s wet eyes kept him silent, however. No need to ruin her hopes. Might be the only thing keeping her from going to pieces right now. 
“All aboard!” a conductor yelled further down the track. Sugar looked at the train, then back at Price.
“I know I said it already, but…thank you.” 
“No,” Price said. “Thank you. Without you, we’d never have known about those orbs. You saved a lot of trouble the poor ponies of Baltimare would’ve faced.”
She nodded. “I can pay you the rest of the money…”
“Absolutely not. For what you helped me stop, taking any more money would leave a bad taste in my mouth.”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“Hopefully not.” The bluntness of the words surprised even Price. “I’m not the kind of guy that earns a lot of friends. Besides, if Johnny is going to blame anypony for his downfall, it’ll be me. He’d just think you were silly in the mind or that I convinced you to go through with it. Stay far away from him and me, and you’ll be safe.”
“All aboard, last call!” the conductor hollered.
“Better get on,” Price said.
She nodded and hurried up the train steps. She stuck her head out the window and waved. Price returned it the whole time the train pulled out of the station, even after his leg went dead and began to tingle all over. But he managed until the train was long out of sight and twisting back out towards the Trottington hills.
Price sighed. Can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’ll be glad to be back at the convention.
With that, he turned and made his way back into the city. The list of responsibilities tumbled through his head: the letter to Manewell explaining the events, the explanation to the hotel manager about his trashed room, the drinks with the Guard at O'Neighs, and the lunch he’d promised A.K. tomorrow for all the trouble he’d roped her into. 
Most importantly, he still had two stories to write, and one of them wasn’t quite over.