From Dusk to Night

by KuroiTsubasaTenshi

29 - Inmates

Not long after I arrived, the jangling of chains caught my ear. It was a rhythmic sound, growing louder as it approached from the left side of the corridor. Two guards came into view, then a white-coated stallion. He was an earth pony, all muscle and about three times my size. If it wasn’t for the heavy, chained manacles hanging around each of his hooves, I might have thought he was in charge. He plodded along as though he’d walked this hall a thousand times. His eyes flitted my way, locking on me for just a moment; they darted forward again when something prodded up against his bottle-adorned flank. As he moved forward, two more guards came into view, one of whom held a long, wooden rod between his teeth.

There was a loud clank as the door of the cell beside mine opened. The jangling continued for a few more steps, then stopped. Once the door was shut, the softer tapping of bare hooves echoed down the hallway as the guards departed.

About ten seconds later, the stallion spoke, a sort of mundane curiosity in his voice, “So you’re the special one.”

I raised an eyebrow, even though there was no way he could see me. “Special one?”

His laugh was short and pointed. “Don’t play dumb. You’re the one the boss has been getting all excited over.”

“Boss? You work for them?”

“Not because I want to.”

“Meaning?”

“Y’don’t say ‘no’ when they’ve got a knife to your throat.”

“Uh, okay?” It wasn’t that I didn’t think such a thing could happen, but I hardly had any reason to trust anything he said.

“I’m serious, girl.” There was a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “Those of us in here, we’re trophies—conquests forced to work for them until we wither away.”

His words hit me straight in the chest; the thought of wasting away here was not one I wanted to entertain. Still, I managed to keep my voice level. “That sounds like a waste of time and money.”

“Hah, I bet you don’t believe that,” he said. Of course, I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to let him know anything.

“So, what? We sit here forever so your boss can come in and gloat like some kind of comic book villain?”

“That’s part of it. They make you do things for them.”

“Things.”

“Yeah. You wanna know how long I’ve been in here, doing whatever they want?”

No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me anyway. I didn’t say anything, which he took to mean ‘yes’.

“Five years. All because my marefriend worked for them.”

“Worked?” I winced. One does not simply quit the Cartel like a job.

“Yeah. Until she bit it.” He laughed bitterly. “I always told her it was going to be the death of her one day. I asked her to stop before it was too late. She just laughed and told me she was too good for that. Of course, ‘cause I doubted her, they all suspected me when it happened.”

“That’s too bad.” I tried to sound sympathetic, but their choice of affiliation made that more than a little difficult. The thought did occur to me that he was telling the truth, that like Mahogany, he was the victim of collateral damage.

“Isn’t it?” His reply came with a tone that almost sounded like he’d expected mine. I supposed that it wouldn’t have been hard to guess, but in my gut, something about it just didn’t quite sit right.

“Yeah. It’s always a shame when someone dies.” Though some deaths are less surprising.

There was a long pause. I guessed he must have been gauging my sincerity. Finally, he let out a sigh. “Well, reckon that’s enough for now. Gonna get some shuteye before they call me again.”

“You just got here.” I needed to stop giving the wall weird looks.

“So? When they’ve got labour that needs doing, they don’t care to wait,” he said, more matter-of-factly than anything else.

“Huh. Well, I won’t keep you up, then.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“What’s your name? Mine’s Diligent Duster,” he stated with a proudness that had me picture him just sitting there grinning.

“Duster?” I’m not sure why, but I’d expected his name to match his cutie mark more closely—despite my own having absolutely nothing to do with each other.

“What can I say? I like cleanin’. Don’t get to do much of that, unless hauling stuff out of the pit counts.” It required more than a bit of imagination, but perhaps that bottle was supposed to represent a cleaning solution.

I pondered his words a moment. If his lips were this loose all the time, I could definitely see why the Cartel might have thought he had something to do with his marefriend’s downfall. Perhaps I could use that to my advantage. In any case, the opportunity was at least worth one of my old aliases.

“Indigo. Indigo Strands.”

“I’ll see you around, Indigo.”

---

Sure enough, a couple hours later, Diligent Duster’s little entourage returned, banging loudly on the bars of his cell. We exchanged glances as he passed by. It could have just been me, but I thought his gait was just a little faster this time around.

I spent some time pacing, stretching, all while contemplating what information I could try to get out of Diligent Duster next. One thing was definitely the guards. Since I'd arrived, not a one had even so much as checked up on me. They were either very clever or lazy about their surveillance; whichever it was would greatly influence my plans.

The trend of non-presence kept up until a pair of Cartel arrived with a tray. They slipped it through the bars, then left without a word.

There was a strange incongruity between my cell and the meal. I’d expected the driest, most brittle of hay—the kind that barely qualifies as food. But this was a plate of fresh greens. At first, I was suspicious, the growling in my stomach and the reasoning that I needed my strength to escape being the only reasons I even touched it.

However, once a quartet of my muscly kidnappers replaced my ‘bed’ with a comparatively cushy single size, I began to see a pattern—a grim, almost humourous, logic: whatever Summer Leaf had planned, she wanted me to be in good health. So much for withering away.

Of course, this meant that I was on an unknown time limit. With no eyes on me, I decided it might be a good time to check for weaknesses in the cell. I’m no mason, but anyone can take advantage of enough neglect. After three passes, all I could say was that despite looking pretty ratty, the place was disappointingly sturdy.

There was enough space to train, but unless I could somehow become strong enough to bend bars, that wouldn’t do me any good. I considered waiting until another situation like the bed popped up; suddenly, bending bars sounded easy compared to winning a four-on-one against stallions twice my size.

Forcing the lock would probably have been my best option, if I’d actually had a tool to attempt it with. Of course, with only rudimentary knowledge, simply wrecking the lock was a very real possibility.

Once again, I was left waiting.

When I noticed I’d started pacing, I diverted the energy into training. I needed to not be so high strung, so I could avoid blowing what might be my only opportunity; extra readiness was a welcome bonus, though. I kept to the more subdued routines so that I could hear anyone coming.

An hour passed and I began to tire. Making use of the bed felt more than a little awkward, but better safe than sorry. I kept an ear turned toward the hall, but I caught nothing before I dozed off.

---

Rhythmic tapping roused me from my slumber. Yet, before I could ease my eyes open, a loud clang had me practically jumping out of bed. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was, to push the overwhelming panic away. A bit of sweat gathered on my forehead.

By the time I was able to fully calm myself, the Cartel guards were already leaving. Silence hung in the air for a minute, although I swore I could still hear that clang echoing down the hall.

“Hey. You’re not really asleep yet, are you?” Diligent Duster’s voice drifted over.

“No.”

“Thought so.”

“Do you need something?”

“Just a chat. Been a long time since somepony talked with me instead of at me.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about his forwardness, but if nothing else, this was probably the best time for me to get some sort of lead. “I’m guessing you had something in mind.”

“Before the end, I… I’d like somepony to hear her story. I know nopony really cares about another dead hitmare, but I’d like to pretend for a bit.”

There was little question as to how she died now. The more interesting question was how someone this chatty and unconventionally honest ended up mixed up with someone like her. Then again, all my friends had found a weirdness magnet like myself. And, like Diligent Duster, Mahogany had paid the price.

“Okay, I’ll listen.”

“Her name was Amber Lane. She was a gentle soul.”

“What?” There were at least a hundred other things I’d expected him to say first.

“I’m serious. How many foals grow up thinking, ‘I want to be a hitmare when I’m older’?”

“Point taken.”

“I mean, sure she was opinionated and emotional, but it was because she cared, y’know?” He took a deep breath. “Maybe a bit too much. She only took the job because they were poor, starving.”

“‘They’ being her family?”

“Yeah. The first job got her attention and a second. Before she knew it, years had passed. Her family was no longer starving, but she was in a whole mess of trouble and besides that, ‘hitmare’ doesn’t really work as a resume.”

“Yet you asked her to quit?” Of course, on principle, I’d have thought she should have quit. In practicality, it would probably only make a bad situation worse.

“Yeah! She had me to support her. Sure, it’d ruffle a few feathers, but I… I thought she could be the exception, y’know? Everytime she told me she was the best, I knew. I could see it in her eyes. Hitmares don’t live too long and their lives don’t end quietly. Least if she was out, she was out. Maybe they’d come get her, but it was better than knowing she was always one fight away from biting it.”

“And the Cartel blames you?”

“Sick, isn’t it? Send her off to die all those times, then when it finally gets her, they think I set her up. I loved her more than they could possibly imagine. If we could trade places, I would, in a heartbeat.”

A thought stirred in the back of my mind, one of Night.

Diligent Duster let out a bitter laugh. “To think this all started with a chance meeting at the derby.”

“It doesn’t take much for simple to become complicated.”

“Hah. You’re telling me.” This time there was no hint of humour in his voice.

The whole thing got me thinking about my first encounter with the Cartel. A mistake, made in my youth, that had followed me around for so long. What made it worse was that, unlike Amber Lane, I had a choice. I didn’t have to try to be a hero. I didn’t have a starving family to feed. Yet, how many times had I had to fight? To kill? Was I destined, as I walked a disturbingly parallel path, to meet the same fate as her? My gut told me that, should Summer Leaf have her way, the answer would be, ‘Yes.’

“So how about you?” Diligent Duster’s voice snapped me back to reality. “What’s your deal?”

As I gave my words careful consideration, I had to wonder if he’d told me all that to get me to open up. It was a difficult decision, since if I were to clam up, he probably wouldn’t be as willing to give information. But I’d already given him leeway and wasn’t comfortable saying anything else unless I could be certain I’d learn something useful.

“Look, no offense, but I just met you and I don’t like to talk about it as it is.”

“That bad, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Another time, then.”

Comments

[Yami Vizzini]

Well, nothing to do but probe her surroundings, including any other inhabitants. Not much to say here.

[Zephyr Ward]

Call me paranoid, but I don't trust the guy. Nobody is that open about something like that. This seems like a pretty obvious trap to me... but, what could they possibly have to gain by hearing Dusky's side of how she got into this whole mess? I need to know!

[Sylvian]

And now I am all caught up.

Amazing story so far, I can't wait to see where this goes!