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Shelter ~~~~~~~~
//They crowded into the smallest places They met in the 64th floor conference room, because there was really no reason not to. It was still off-limits to the mass of Shinra employees, and well away from the clamour of frightened citizens crowding into the lobby of Shinra Headquarters. The ranks of Shinra middle management were depressingly thinned, Reno thought, glancing from Reeve to Rude and then to Elena. The four of them were the only ones left with even a remote claim on authority. One by one the others had been whittled away; the President, Palmer, Scarlet, Heidegger, even Tseng, and Rufus Shinra. Ghods above and below, he hated to admit it, but he missed Rufus. Sure he'd had his disagreements with the Turks, but at least he had been a leader. He'd proved that above all else, had died proving it, in Junon. Reno sighed, tilted his chair back on two legs and propped his boot heels on the long mahogany desk. No one protested, not even the usually formal Reeve. They had bigger problems than Reno's boots scuffing the desk. Reeve cleared his throat, and the three Turks looked at him expectantly. Midgar's head of Urban Development looked as tired as they all felt. He might not have been battling literal monsters for the past few days like they had, but he had his own demons -- the media and the people of Midgar. "I don't think I have to tell you that we have a rather... large situation on our hands," he said quietly. Elena nodded, reaching up to rub at a recently acquired bruise on her cheek. Rude's face was as expressionless as ever, his eyes still hidden by his sunglasses. Reno resisted the urge to wisecrack. He was too tired. They were all too tired. "Meteor's current trajectory will bring it down onto, or at least very near, Midgar," Reeve continued. Reno frowned. "I thought it was supposed to hit that crater up in the North." "It was." Reeve sighed, scrubbing one hand through hair that hadn't been washed or combed in a day or two. "But something has changed its course. My guess is that the Mako Reactors are acting as a magnet. The Lifestream is nearer the surface here than anywhere else on the planet." "Can't we shut them down?" Elena asked, shifting forward in her chair. "And leave Midgar in darkness? Well. We could, but there's not much point. It won't change Meteor's course." Reno closed his eyes, rocking his chair a little. "We have to make an announcement of some kind. People are still looking to Shinra for leadership. They're afraid...." "Fear makes people stupid," Rude murmured. "And stupid people end up dead," Reno finished, opening his eyes again and staring up at the ceiling. "Evacuation, then, Reeve?" He tilted his head down and glanced across the table at the dark-haired man. "Yes," Reeve said, his voice finally really betraying how bone deep tired he was. "We have a number of the Gelnikas left. We can shuttle people out to Kalm. And there are enough SOLDIERs left to keep things orderly." "If you still trust them," Reno muttered, thinking of the crazy ones he and the other Turks had already been forced to terminate. The surge of powers in the Planet was not making life easy on anyone or anything that had been Mako-modified. "Is Kalm going to be far enough?" Elena asked, ignoring Reno's comment. Reeve shrugged helplessly. "It's going to have to be. We can't take them any further." Shaking his head, he sighed. "Those that haven't left already will just be glad to be evacuated. There aren't many usable routes from the Plate to ground level left." Which left one question unasked. Reno glanced at Elena, and then at Rude, who raised an eloquent eyebrow at him. "Oh, fine," Reno muttered. He had taken over as unofficial leader of the Turks, since Tseng.... "What about the Slums?" he asked. A tired smile briefly graced Reeve's lips, taking at least a decade off his appearance. "There are trucks, the last we've been able to hold onto, and a couple of busses also, down at the gates of Sector Five. The trick is just getting the people to leave." Reno rolled his eyes and studied the ceiling again. Given all that had happened to the Slums, the collapse of Sector Seven and everything since, he couldn't blame any of the residents there for just hunkering down and refusing to budge. It would get them all killed though, if Reeve was right. If Reeve was right.... "What do you propose, oh great and fearless Manager of Urban Development?" Reno asked. He tried to keep the sarcasm from his voice, somewhat successfully. He did respect Reeve, would even confess to admiring his dedication if pressed to offer an opinion. But old habits died hard, and sarcasm was one of his oldest defenses. "Well," Reeve began cautiously. "SOLDIER needs an authority figure to follow. I don't cut it. Rude might. They know him, and he's impressive enough," he added with a nod to Rude. Rude's expression didn't change, but he nodded in return. "I can handle the media and coordination efforts. He can manage SOLDIER and the actual evacuation. And you and Elena..." he hesitated, probably suspecting Reno wasn't going to be happy with his plan. "And Elena and I can go crawl through the Slums, dig out the stragglers, and otherwise try not to get our asses kicked by some pissed off dwellers below the Pizza." Reeve winced. "Tact is not Reno's strong point," Elena said softly, reaching out to squeeze Reeve's shoulder. "But he... we can get the job done." The look she shot Reno said 'don't argue.' Reno heaved an exasperated sigh. Of all the times for Elena to assert her well-hidden backbone. "You know the Slums best," Rude said in the quiet voice of Reason. Swinging his feet off the desk, Reno let his chair drop to the floor with a heavy thud. "Then you'll be dead, dead, dead," he sing-songed under his breath. Inappropriate but ironic humour. They shouldn't expect anything else from him. "I heard some kids in the Slums singing it," he said defensively, meeting Elena's disgusted look squarely. "Reno...." "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. Standing up, he stretched, feeling already over-worked muscles protest. "Fine. You get us down there, I'll do clean-up duty. Not that they'll appreciate it." "Reno!" Elena snapped. Her patience, long-since worn thin, finally snapped. "There are kids down there. Kids that deserve the chance to live as much as anyone on the Plate. As much as we do." Rising to her feet, she leaned on her fists on the table and glowered at Reno. Her intensity touched him in ways he couldn't even begin to explain. At moments like these, he could see why Tseng had had a soft spot for her. She was a far more complex woman than most people at Shinra had ever given her credit for. Raising his hands in a pacifying gesture, he smiled lopsidedly. "I know, Elena. I know. Believe me. It's just my way of dealing with things, okay?" After a moment she relented. Straightening up, she folded her arms across her chest and nodded. "Alright." Beside her, Reeve sighed as he got to his feet as well. "I'll send a chopper to the roof for you. The sooner we get started...." Reno nodded. He laid a hand on Rude's shoulder for a moment, saying a silent goodbye. Rude's broad hand covered his, squeezed, and fell back to his lap. It said more than words could. There really wasn't anything else to say, so he and Elena turned and left, falling into step unintentionally as they walked down the long, empty room.
"Ghods," Elena gasped, hiding her face in the crook of her arm. Her other hand had a death grip on the sleeve of Reno's jacket. "You'd think someone lost control of Shiva!" Reno grunted a non-reply, leaning into the wind. If anyone was foolish enough to summon Shiva, or any of the other elemental Planet deities, they deserved what they got. Mako, Materia, Planet energy, it was all wild, running rampant before the approaching Meteor. He and Elena only had a Restore and a Heal Materia equipped each, not trusting any of the more volatile offensive ones. The wind died as suddenly as it had arisen, just as they reached the helicopter. Reno helped Elena up into the cabin as the pilot yelled, "Hurry! We can't afford to miss this chance to launch!" Rather than pointing out how redundant the captain's statement was, Reno just nodded. He had one foot in the cabin, one still on the copter's runner when he heard someone holler his name over the steady whump whump of the rotors. Turning back to face the roof, he squinted at the approaching figure. "Reeve?" he yelled against the rising wind. "I almost forgot! Take this!" Reeve replied. Stopping short of the rotor's reach, he hurled a small, palely glowing stone at Reno. Reno caught it with both hands, glancing down at it before yelling back, "Materia?" Reeve cupped his hands around his mouth. "Exit. It might be useful." "Sir! We have to go now," the pilot called. Nodding, Reno hopped up into the cabin. Snapping the Materia into a slot on his nightstick, he sat down and quickly belted himself in. The copter was already lifting from the pad, the rotors whining against the wind. He waved at Reeve, then leaned back in his chair as they turned and swung clear of the roof. Exit? he thought, studying the blue-green orb. What the hell good is Exit going to do me? Elena shot a questioning look at him. Reno shrugged helplessly. It was too noisy to talk over the rising wind and the rotor noise. There weren't any headsets available either. The wind gusted, tossing the copter sideways, and he grimly grabbed ahold of the dangling safety strap. If they survived the short trip down to the ground outside Midgar, he'd have time enough to explain when they headed into the Slums.
So what was he waiting for? he wondered, returning the troopers' salute. Not that he had time to worry about Reeve's motives at the moment. Counting heads he realized that there were actually only twenty-three troopers. The Third rank SOLDIER who should have been their leader was distinctly missing. Sighing, Reno decided he wasn't going to worry about that either. Teams of eight, eight, and seven would have to do. "We're going in to evacuate the Slums," Reno said, adopting Tseng's mission briefing tone. The troopers kept their ranks silently, discipline overriding any personal complaints. "Our first priority is to remove every single live body from beneath the Plate and shuttle them to Kalm. It's not going to be easy," he added, thinking of the reaction Shinra's presence usually generated in the Slums. "But we will do our damndest to make sure no one dies here." "Try not to use Materia or elemental attacks on anything unless you can't avoid it," Elena said, her voice carrying easily. "The reactions may not be predictable." There really wasn't much else to say, so they divided the troopers up into three squads, assigning the squad of seven to the trucks. No one said a word about the missing SOLDIER and Reno told himself again not to think about it. "Be careful," Elena said quietly, catching Reno's arm and squeezing it as he turned to leave. His quick reply slipped from his mind as he glanced down at her. Genuine concern was written large in her wide blue eyes. "Of course," he said quietly. His arms slipped around her, giving her a quick hug. "You too." She nodded, holding him for a moment. "See you later," she added, stepping away. "Take care, kiddo," he murmured. He watched her straighten, projecting a confidence he never would have suspected she was capable of six months ago, as she moved to the head of her squad. They set out at a jog, turning to the left as they passed through the Sector 5 gates. Elena's group had the relatively easy task of checking sectors 8, and 1 through 3. Reno had taken the less savory 4 through 6, and the remnants of 7. Giving himself a mental kick into gear, Reno motioned his squad forward. "Let's go!" he said. Their hearty reply of, "Yes, Sir!" was comforting in its familiarity.
There was nothing quite so surreal as fighting a house that could throw lightning at you, Reno thought wryly. Blocking a stray spark with his baton, he fired the lightning back at the house and watched in satisfaction as it shuddered and began to fall apart. They'd encountered one small group of people already, huddled together in a tight, desperate knot as the men and women alike tried to beat off monsters with half-working or broken weapons. He'd assigned two men from his squad to escort those folks to the convoy, with orders to rejoin the main group if possible. He wasn't counting on the men returning, though. It was hard going with the nine of them. Two would find it near impossible. The crazy house collapsed in a whistling rush of air under a final assault from the troopers. Reno urged his men forward before the scrap could itself together again. They moved forward in a crouching run, weapons still at the ready. Rounding one last corner, they found themselves in the 'residential' area of Sector 5. "Stay in pairs! Search the houses! Round everyone up!" Reno shouted. His men fanned out, beating on doors and otherwise demanding as much attention as they could get. It was going to be a long day, Reno decided, rubbing his forehead.
The short run across the roof had left him out of breath. His feet didn't want to carry him one step further. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept for more than half an hour. Every time he closed his eyes, faces started swimming in the darkness behind his eyelids; men, women, children, the people of Midgar. The faces of proud, Shinra company suit-wearing drones, the faces of troopers so often hidden by their combat helmets, the faces of the poor and impoverished from below the Plate. Every face had a story, a life, and every life weighed on him heavier than a stone around his neck. He couldn't let these people die. He didn't want to let the city die, but cities could be rebuilt. And besides, Midgar had been built on the lifeblood of the Planet, sucking the Planet dry. It was better to let the parasite die. That didn't mean he wouldn't miss the architectural marvel that was Midgar, though. The wind gusted again, making Reeve stumble a step sideways. He was so tired and there was so much left to do. So much.... He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd forgotten to tell the Turks something, something important, something his sleep-deprived mind refused to dredge up for him again. Someone laid a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. "Sir," Rude said, his tone equal parts respect and concern. "We need to get going." Reeve nodded, wobbling a little as he turned away from the heli-pad. Catching hold of Rude's arm, he leaned on it as they made their way against the wind. Stumbling the last few steps, Reeve stopped short inside the stairwell and propped himself up against a wall while Rude wrestled the door shut. Rude had taken his sunglasses off, Reeve noticed suddenly. The absence of them made the bald man's face look more round and vulnerable. He had an honest expression, Reeve decided, studying the lines of Rude's face. The Turk reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out his sunglasses. He hesitated, staring at the black metal and glass, before snapping the arms out and settling the glasses in place. "I feel naked without them," he remarked. Glancing back at Reeve, Rude headed down the stairs. We all have our defenses, Reeve thought. Trying not to groan at the effort of moving, he pushed himself off the wall and followed the Turk.
Rude frowned, moving in front of Reeve and steering them both for the door before Reeve realized what he was doing. "No, it's alright," he said, stopping in his tracks. "I have to talk to them." Rude turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "Here and now?" he asked, his voice pitched low and almost lost in the rising frenzy of media voices. Shrugging, Reeve spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "No point in running. The Firsts will be waiting for you at the airfield." He was half-afraid Rude was going to argue with him, but the Turk only looked past him at the approaching reporters and nodded. "Take care, Reeve," he said, and then he was gone, moving faster than Reeve's tired eyes could accept. "Mr. Reeve!" "Mr. Reeve! A few words!" "What's going to happen, Mr. Reeve?" "When will Meteor hit?" The words spilled over him in a jumble, becoming almost meaningless, nonsensical. He raised one hand for silence, and surprisingly enough, received it. That, more than anything, told him just how desperate Midgar was. He straightened his tie, smoothed down his jacket, and turned to face the cameras. "I want this on every radio and TV station available, live, now," he said quietly. "You don't have to ask, Sir," one of the journalists said. "You have Midgar's complete attention." This is going to go down in history, he thought, searching for words. If anyone survives this.... "People of Midgar --"
And of course, despite Reeve's repeated pleas, people insisted on trying to bring everything they could carry with them, from furniture to house plants. There were arguments over whether or not pets were being allowed on board. Fistfights broke out, and even the omnipresence of SOLDIER couldn't prevent minor ruckuses. Over and over, Rude organized people into groups, rounded up animals into makeshift stockades, and promised seemingly endless streams of crying boys and girls that he would do his best to get Fluffy, Spike, Bingo, and Buddy to Kalm as well. As the sun set, he was forced to commandeer one of the Gelnikas fresh from refueling to carry the waiting pets and livestock. And still the people kept coming. Someone kept bringing him coffee, though he never had time to drink it. If he'd had time to even think, he would have marveled at the remnants of Shinra bureaucracy; that there was someone still making coffee for "the boss" and someone else still fetching it for him. The wind continued to gust and howl like a banshee around the airfield, causing further delays in lift-offs and landings. Shortly after nightfall, it began to rain. Large, fat drops that were anything but gentle pounded into the Gelnikas and the steel airfield buildings, creating an almost continuous noise of drums rattling. For nearly two hours, the rain fell so hard that they were forced to stop the flights entirely. It wasn't until daybreak that they realized the rain had been acidic enough to scour the paint off the Gelnikas. People who'd been caught out in it complained of rashes like sunburns, blisters, headaches, fuzzy vision, and other ailments. Rude was forced to ground one of the Gelnikas long enough to convert it into a flying hospital as more and more wounded people arrived. No one had thought about evacuating the hospitals, he realized. Reluctantly, he dispatched six SOLDIERs and a pair of helicopters to the city's two hospitals. Daybreak turned to dawn, and dawn to daylight before the press of people began to abate. Rude found time to drink a coffee, and eat a sandwich someone handed him. And in a sudden, strange lull, he even found time to wonder how Reno and Elena were doing. But it was the strange acidic rain that occupied his mind, and when he found a moment alone, he called Reeve to ask for an explanation. "What's going on, Reeve?" Rude asked, raising his voice above the static on the line. There was a long pause, so long that he was beginning to worry he'd lost the connection. Then finally Reeve's voice came through, momentarily crystal clear. "Meteor's accelerating," he said.
Reno nodded, swiping at his forehead with the back of one wrist. In his other hand he held a half-empty bottle of water. The sky was darkening above them, looking for all the world like it was about to rain dirt down on them. Adding insult to injury, Reno thought wryly. Raising the bottle, he chugged most of its contents before answering Elena. "We have to keep trying --" "Why?" she muttered. "Dear ghods, I'm tired of this." Reno had learned months ago that frustration made her tense and irritable. "Would you really feel better, leaving, knowing that there were people left in there," he gestured with the water bottle at the gate, "when Meteor hits?" Elena growled something that didn't need explanation or translation. The worry lines on her face seemed far deeper than they had any right to be on a woman her age, and her eyes were anguished as she looked up at Reno. "Ghods, no." She shuddered, pushing herself upright and folding her arms across her chest. "So we keep going back in. As many times as it takes, until they're all out of there, or we're out of time." He gave her a lopsided smile, reaching out to loop one arm around her waist and turn her towards their makeshift mess tent. "Turks' honour, Elena. We gave Reeve our word." She sighed, leaning against him as they walked slowly across the rutted ground. "I'm glad you're here, Reno," she said softly. He tightened his grip on her momentarily. "Likewise," he murmured. They were both too tired to make a joke of it, though he turned over the thought that language made him sound more self-centered than he was. "Hey, we're half-way there," he said, as they ducked under the edge of the canvas tent and joined the line of troopers headed for dinner. "Two sectors clear each." "More than half," she answered, not quite perking up. "If you exclude Seven." Reno nodded, accepting a battered tin plate and cup from a trooper. "Sir," the trooper began hesitantly, not releasing his hold on the plate. It took Reno a moment or two to realize that he couldn't move on to collecting food. The trooper's interruption registered slowly through the exhausted fog in his brain. "Hmm?" "Are we done for the night, Sir?" Without his helmet and face mask on, the trooper looked young, far too young and inexperienced to be out here, playing the hero. Was that really what they were doing, though? Reno wondered. Distracted by his own thoughts, he forgot to answer until Elena elbowed him in the ribs. "Uh, no, I'm afraid not," Reno said, trying to keep his voice from sounding as tired as he felt. "We have to keep working. The sooner we get them all out, the sooner we get to high-tail it to Kalm ourselves." The young man hid his disappointment well, Reno thought. The snappy reply of, "Sir! Yes, Sir!" was almost touching in its sincerity. Whatever they thought of the disintegration of Shinra, these troopers were still determined to do the company proud. It was all they had left to cling to. And for all that he'd balked at Tseng's attempts to force him to clean up his act, Reno was thankful for the lingering power of Shinra's military discipline. Darkness fell as they dined on meager rations and lingered over tea. No one was eager to head back into the Slums, not after the fights they'd encountered. There were too many wounded to tend already, though most were only superficial, or at least nothing that would force the troopers out of duty. But wounded were bad for morale which had already grown shaky. "Is it raining?" Elena asked, tilting her head towards the rolled-up sides of the canvas tent. She frowned, trying to pick out sounds from the background noise of low conversation and clattering dishes. Reno shrugged. Swinging one leg over the wooden bench, he sat astride it for a moment, staring out into the evening gloom. "Damn, I think it is." Pushing himself upright, he wove his way between benches and camp tables to the edge of the tent. Elena followed him silently. They stood there, side-by-side, watching the rain fall past the perimeter lights. The drops created rainbow hued splashes, made the steady Mako-electric powered lights seem to flicker and dance. Where the rain hit the ground, though, tiny pock-marks appeared. Like acne spreading across the face of the earth, the blemishes grew and multiplied as the rain began to fall in earnest. Then came the sound of sizzling fabric, audible in the sudden nervous silence of the mess tent. "Ghods," Elena whispered. "It's acidic...." Like iron filings to a magnet, Reno and Elena's gaze was drawn upward, to the canvas roof. Burn marks were already visible on the rough khaki fabric. Reno drew a deep breath, closing his eyes for a heartbeat before turning to face the troopers. "Alright, men!" he called, his voice strong and confident despite the nervous tension crawling up his spine. "We're heading back in now. Leave the mess as it is. Get suited up." There was a flurry of blue-white motion as the troopers all grabbed their helmets from beneath their seats. In less than a minute, they were all in full combat gear, presenting in rank and file. Not a word was said. The hiss-drip of the rain said more than words could. Elena twisted her hair back into a ponytail while Reno tucked his long red hair down the back of his jacket. Someone had had the foresight to bring in the extra equipment which meant that neither Turk had to venture out to the trucks in search of a helmet. The rain was already falling faster, the drops thick and heavy in what was threatening to become a downpour. "Ready?" Reno asked under his breath. Elena tightened the chin-strap on her helmet and nodded. Squaring his shoulders, Reno turned to address the troopers. "Move as fast as you can. This rain will eat right through you if it gets the chance. Once you're inside the gates, squad leaders take over and move into your assigned sectors." Reno paused, letting his weary gaze sweep over the men. "We're spending the night beneath the Pizza." Elena didn't even bother chastising him for that as they ran out into the rain.
The elderly man tightened his grip on the bed rail, panting in exertion. "My home, Turk! I won't leave while there's breath left in me!" Nodding to one of the SOLDIERs standing nearby, Reno shifted his stance and wrapped his arms around the man's skinny waist. "I'm under orders to leave no one behind. You move your skinny ass or we'll move it for you. You can die elsewhere," he growled. "I'm not lettin' go!" the old man hollered, wheezing faintly. The SOLDIER grabbed the old man's wrists, twisted hard enough to break his grip but not his bones, and Reno heaved the man sideways into the waiting arms of a second SOLDIER. "Get him on the truck, now!" Reno snapped. The SOLDIERs hastened to comply, dodging the man's flailing blows easily. "Shiva's balls," Reno swore, swiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of one hand. "People are stupid." No one replied. No one needed to. He just hoped Elena was having an easier time of it. He and his group were having to almost literally beat people into submission, dragging them from their homes more often than not. It didn't help that he'd lost another man to a dog bite in a place nearly too painful to think about. The Slums were whittling away at them, wearing down what little commitment they'd had to this project -- this fool's quest -- in the first place. Thinking about it wasn't getting him any closer to his goal, Reno knew, but it was giving him a breather. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the ramshackle abode, avoiding the rough edges of the angled sheets of tin that made up the slanted roof and walls. "God damn Turk!" someone yelled, far too close for Reno's liking. Something whistled through the air, and he threw himself into a tumbling roll, not bothering to see what was being aimed at him. Dust chuffed up on either side of him and he kept moving, aiming for the nearest pile of scrap metal. There were shouts, the scuffling sound of combat, and the meaty thunk of a fist slamming into flesh. Then it was quiet, except for the panting rush of Reno's breath as he crouched in the lee of a rotting bus carcass. "All clear, sir!" one of the men yelled. Reno rose to his feet, waving one hand in acknowledgement before dusting feebly at his suit. It was pointless. The dirt was ground in, layered, intimately familiar with the weave of the suit's fabric. It was also well past the point of "lived in," and he really, really wanted a shower. "Sir! All clear here, too!" Nodding, Reno forced his feet to move. There was one last section of Sector Five to check, one he wanted to see for himself. And then it was on to Sector Six, the last, and darkest, stronghold of the Slums. Waving to his squad leader, Reno laid out his plan. They let him go alone into that last corner of Sector Five, though they'd been reluctant to do so. Even Reno's own words could have turned against him -- "stay in pairs and don't do anything stupid" -- but Reno was Reno, and a Turk, and so they deferred to him with only quiet protests. The air was different here, sharp and heavy with the scent of flower perfume and the rank smell of dying vegetation. The waterfall had dried to a trickle, the pond it filled had grown stagnant, filmed by a layer of dark green mold growth. And yet, despite the decay, the space around the house still felt calm, almost serene. Most definitely lifeless, though. Reno tapped his nightstick against his leg thoughtfully as he studied the house. The front door was locked, but he pried it open and stepped into a room that felt as disused as it looked. Elmira wasn't here and hadn't been here for a while. No surprise, really. Anyone with half a brain and the ability to leave would have done so long before now. Reno took a deep breath, inhaled dust, and spent a moment sneezing and coughing his lungs clear. He didn't know what he'd been looking for, or expecting, or hoping... maybe that Elmira would be here, would have some kind of answer for what was going on.... But she wasn't the Ancient any more than Aeris had ever been her daughter. It might as well have been Sephiroth's hand that locked the door. There were no answers to be had in the past. Shaking his head, Reno let himself out again and closed the door behind him. Mopping up the last of Sector Six didn't take all that long, surprisingly. They managed to make their way from Five to Six without being ambushed by any Whole Eaters or Hell Houses or any other freaks of Mako-creation. The paths between the two sectors were eerily, uncannily empty and silent, as if even the monsters had fled before the awesome impending doom of Meteor. They gave Six a rapid and cursory exploration. The HoneyBee bath (whore) House was empty, as were the hotel and the restaurants. Even Big Bro's gym echoed hollowly when they intruded. The dress shop, the scrap yard, all empty. Reno drew the line at the edge of Don Corneo's territory, though. Not that he expected the groveling, backstabbing toady to still be there anyway. No, Corneo had probably never come back after his run-in with the Turks in Wutai. Reno's men were just as glad to skip Corneo's turf and head back for Five and the outside world. No one speculated about whether or not the acid rain would have stopped. No one had the energy. They plodded along, exhaustion now overriding discipline, most of the troopers half-oblivious to their surroundings. Reno wasn't, and the captain of his team wasn't either. They watched the jumbled piles of scrap metal, rotting debris, and odds and ends of garbage closely, tensely anticipating an attack. It wasn't until the captain muttered, "Do you hear that?" that Reno realized why he was on edge. There was a low, rumbling, hissing susurrus of background noise. Directionless, it seemed to thrum in his bones regardless of which way he turned his head. By the time they reached Sector Five, the other men heard/felt it too. "That doesn't sound good," one of them said. Nervous tension made the troopers bunch up into a tight knot, weapons at the ready. "What is it?" the captain asked Reno quietly. All the Turk could do was shake his head, as baffled as the rest of them. "Whatever it is, it can't be good. Let's get back to the rendezvous ASAP!" "Yes, Sir!" they all replied smartly, and set out, double-time.
"Gods above and below," Reno murmured, shielding his face with his hand. He turned to glance at Elena and found her expression just as awestruck as his own must be. Is Kalm going to be far enough? he wondered. But there was no where else to go. "'Lena," he said, fatigue making his tongue lazy. She turned to look at him with a peculiar intensity. "Tell the men to get out of here, now. Last call for the bus to sanity." She nodded, ignoring or too tired to acknowledge his quip. In short order the remaining troopers had the trucks lined up and idling, and they piled in. Reno and Elena waited, watched, and tried to project the infamous Turk calm that the men expected -- and needed. Finally, though, it was their turn to climb up into the back of one of the trucks. They both heaved a sigh of relief and stumbled forward. "Reno," Elena said, her voice tight. He paused in the act of giving her a hand up onto the truck bed and blinked at her. "What?" "The church," she said quietly, and his heart sank, rolling in a snowbank before landing somewhere around his ankles. "Did you check the church?" Images flashed before his mind's eye: flower beds, broken pews, the great gaping hole in the ceiling, Cloud and Aeris standing, fleeing, fighting, and... "The children," Elena said urgently. "Did you check for the orphans?" How could he have forgotten? Sure the church was off the beaten path of Sector Five, but they'd been so thorough, so careful.... Not careful enough. He had forgotten, and Elena could read it in the shellshocked expression on his face. "Send the men on," she said. "We'll keep one truck, go back and double-check." A sudden gust of wind whipped their hair across their faces, scouring them with grit. "No," Reno replied quietly. "I don't think there's time. Go on, I'll go check." She gave him a patented "are you crazy?" look and shook her head. "Don't play the damn hero, Reno. If there's no time --" But he stepped back from the truck, waved to the driver, and the convoy lurched into motion. "Reno! Don't you DARE!" Elena screamed hoarsely into the rising wind. He pointed to the motorcycle with side-car that his men had scrounged from one of the Sectors. "It works. I'll be fine!" he yelled. For a moment he feared she would leap down off the truck and come stumbling back to join him in this insanity. He could see the line of her jaw, clenched tight and angry. Every muscle in her body seemed to scream defiance. Slowly, hanging onto the edge of the truck bed with one hand, she raised the other hand and saluted him. Choking back the tears that threatened suddenly, he returned the salute, then spun around and darted back under the Plate before he could lose his nerve. Or regain his sanity. The wind followed him, dogged his tracks and made it hard to see much of anything in the swirling dust cloud gloom of the Plate's perpetual shadow. But he knew his route, knew it as surely as he'd known Aeris' house had been long empty. As surely as he knew that time was precious and every second was bringing Meteor inexorably closer. Stumbling blindly, he tripped over the collapsed lintel and sprawled gracelessly into the church's interior. For a moment there was silence, deep, healing, peaceful silence, and he almost relaxed. Then the cries reached his ears and he almost cringed. "Mister! Mister! Are you okay?!" Crawling to his hands and knees, Reno peered into the church. Two small forms were barrelling towards him, voices tumbling over each other in their haste. A boy and a girl, both far too small and vulnerable to be here, alone, at a time like this. Such is the fate of orphans, he thought grimly. "Are you the only ones here?" he asked, lurching unsteadily to his feet. "Yes!" "Yessir!" The roof creaked ominously. All three looked up, the children's jaws dropping in shock and awe. Sparkling red light was crackling around the hole in the roof, and above, where the Plate should have been, there was only more grinding, crackling, debris-filled air. Reno closed his eyes for a heartbeat, uttered some wordless prayer from the bottom of his aching heart, and held his hands out to the children. "We have to go. Now," he shouted. They clung to him, eyes wide with fear. It was almost impossible to hear anything above the rising howl of the wind, and the twisting, grinding shriek of metal. There was no time to get back to the motorcycle, Reno realized grimly. They'd be flattened as soon as they stepped outside the dubious shelter of the church. So what was he going to do? His nightstick thumped against his leg, strangely warm and... glowing faintly? Transferring the boy-child's hand to his belt, Reno scooped up his nightstick and held it up for inspection. One of the Mako orbs WAS glowing. And he knew which one it was now. Exit. The one Reeve had given him at the last minute. But Exit doesn't work that way, his rational mind protested. True, there were no monsters to send elsewhere, and technically no battle for him to escape from. Glancing down at the children who were trying to become one with his pantlegs, he set his lips in a thin, defiant smile. Damned if he wouldn't MAKE it work. Something large and metallic fell through the roof, landing with a resounding crash and boom in the middle of the largest flowerbed. The children screamed, wrapping their arms tighter around Reno's legs. Placing his hand over the Exit Materia, Reno took a deep breath and shouted, "EXIT!" The world turned white, the air rushing in a sonic boom to crush them, and then there was peace and silence.
"Stupid Turk. Didn't anyone ever tell you...." The tone was affectionate, almost tender, the voice female, and familiar. It made him wrinkle his forehead in thought. Someone gasped at that, and then warm fingers were stroking his brow, smoothing away the frown lines. He wanted to growl something like, "damnit! lemme alone!" but his voice wouldn't work. It felt like his throat had been scoured with sandpaper, and the best he could do was a faint groan that still hurt like hell. "Reno?" Yes, that was his name, though he'd been having a hard time getting a grasp on it himself. And since it was his, he really ought to respond to it. His eyelids felt like they'd been glued shut with more sandpaper, but he forced them open. It took him several blinks and squints to be able to focus, but when he did, he nearly cried in relief at the sight of the blonde hair framing the concerned face and the blue eyes that were far too close. "Elena!" he croaked, not caring how much his throat hurt. The head drew back a little, to a distance that he could focus on. Reno blinked at her, which seemed to be enough proof that he was, in fact, alive and conscious. She descended on him like a banshee, engulfing him in a hug. "You're alive! You idiot! You had us so worried! Damn it, Reno!" Half of the words that tumbled from her mouth made no sense, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered half so much as the fact that she was there, warm, alive, vibrant -- very much Elena. It took her a while to explain, especially since he couldn't ask the questions he really wanted to have answered. A nurse brought him something soothing and medicinal to drink, and followed it up with strict orders not to talk. Reno nodded helplessly, grinning like a fool, and just too damn happy to be alive to worry about anything else. Rude looked in on him later, when Elena's exuberance had run its course. He smiled and nodded to Reno, and said only, "Good job." Those two words meant as much as everything Elena had said. He wanted to ask about Reeve, but there never was a chance. Finally, though, as his aching body forced him to lie down again, Elena remembered to tell him that Reeve was also fine and had gotten out on the last Gelnika with Rude. And of course he was knee-deep in city planning with Kalm's mayor now, but would doubtless be around to check in on Reno when he heard the good news. Sleep crept up and wrapped cotton batting around his brain. Elena kissed him on the forehead, then retreated. Reno sighed at the sudden quiet and solitude, already relaxing into the arms of dreams. Elena's words came drifting back to him, and he realized he knew what she had been going to say. "Stupid Turk. Didn't anyone ever tell you Exit doesn't work that way?" The thought brought a smile to his face. Along with everything else to be done in rebuilding society from the ground up, it was time to write a new chapter on Exit in the Materia books. The best he could come up with, as he slipped into an easy sleep, was, "may provide shelter from storms."
© 01/02/2004 Tavam Shaytar
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