//------------------------------// // running // Story: Mapping Manehattan // by The Red Parade //------------------------------// Fiddle can barely see a foot in front of her in the rain. It pounds down around her, and thunder rips through the streets with a roar. She’s cold, hurt, and exhausted, but she still presses on.  She moves through the alleys and pauses near the edge of a building, glancing out into the street. There’s a flash of lightning, and she sees the silhouettes of several ponies in the street, voices drowned out by the rain. They’re looking for her. And they don’t like it when somepony hurts one of their own. Fiddle shivers in the cold as she crouches low, behind a bullet-ridden dumpster. She’ll have to wait for the patrol to leave. Her wounds start to burn: she’s stabilized the bleeding from her right side, but the little cuts and bruises all over her body are aching now. As some of the adrenaline from earlier wears off, she pieces together what happened. She remembers crashing through a window, tangled up with another pony. And she remembers fighting for her life as he held her down, landing blow upon blow on her head. When the boss gave her the green book ages ago, she also gave her an old revolver, saying that it might save her life one day. Fiddle blinks as the realization dawns on her. She quietly pulls it from her holster and checks the chamber: she’s missing three bullets. And then she remembers the screaming and her vision going red. She suddenly feels very faint, but her mind goes into denial. She can’t afford to think about that now. Suddenly, there’s a howling laugh that reverberates down the streets. The rogues whirl around and raise their guns. Fiddle follows their gaze down the street and sees some ponies appearing from the alleys. The Ravagers laugh and scream, and one of the rogue squad leaders shouts a command. The air is filled with bullets and the streets come alive with the sound of gunfire. Fiddle flinches as the two groups start fighting. Suddenly, from the clouds, three pegasi dive down, blades in their teeth. Fiddle turns away. She has enough nightmares nowadays, she doesn’t need any more. Slowly and carefully she backs out of the alleway, trying to block out the screams of the bloody fight behind her. She makes her way down the alley, snaking between backdrops and dumpsters as rainwater drenches her coat and mane. It reminds her of her first patrol with Lightning. They left on a rainy night just like this when a group of Ravagers ambushed them. She still has dreams about that night: nasty, bloody dreams. But Lightning wasn’t here now. She feels a twinge of regret at that. It is her fault, after all. A part of her wishes she told Lightning about what happened at the concert hall. Maybe then she’d understand. Memories flash through her mind. She hears the screams and the gunfire. Fiddle shudders and pushes the memories back down, before continuing forwards through the rain.