This part was hard to write this because it was such an EPIC Final Fantasy moment. I did my best to make it epic, without sounding melodramatic.
After several battles with computer malfunction and technical difficulties, this story will hopefully be up for good this time.
Disclaimer: I don't own FF7, or it character, or any Chocobos that may appear, and so on and so forth. You know the drill.
He couldn't out run them, and there was no where to hide. The Turks had offered to spare his life in exchange for his coming quietly, but the lab was a fate worse than death. If he surrendered, Cloud would be taken back to Hojo, and he would rather die than let that happen. It was one of the few decisions he had made in the last few years that he had no doubts about. The limp helplessness his semiconscious comrade displayed as Zack lowered him to rest against the rocky cliff side only farther confirmed his confidence that he had made the right choice.
Zack wished he could talk to him one last time. Just once before the end would be enough, but by the looks of it, he wouldn't even get to say goodbye. If fate had denied him that as well, so be it. As long as Cloud survived, it wouldn't really be the end. He smiled and ruffled his best friend's messy blonde hair. It was alright; Cloud would live on for both of them. He walked forward, strong and determined. He knew he couldn't win against an entire army, but he wasn't going down without a fight and a chance for Cloud to survive.
"Freedom sure is expensive," he said shaking his head.
The price was worth it. Even if he was going to die, at least he still had something worth dying for. Cloud was the best friend he ever could have asked for. Shy though he was, he was brave, and a loyal friend. All the time he had spent with Aerith at the church made his life worth living by itself. When he had reached his breaking point, Aerith was always there to hold him together. Angeal was a bittersweet memory. There was no worse way fate could have taken his mentor, but he was grateful for the friendship and guidance Angeal had given him before he lost himself. Zack touched his forehead to the flat side of the blade Angeal had passed onto him.
"Embrace your dreams," he repeated the words that had sounded so cliche back when he first heard them. They had very different meaning now, after he had lost so many friends and was now facing his own end, than they did when he was a carefree 16-year-old, "And whatever happens, protect your honor" he slowly lowered the sword.
"As SOLDIER!" Zack shouted, then charged, "COME AND GET IT!"
Blood coated the ground. Some his, some the enemy's, but it all looked the same. It painted the ground red and stained his hands, no matter who it came from. He almost hesitated in finishing an infantrymen, remembering they had once been on the same side. Almost. How many had he killed? He had lost count at 60.
He swung back, taking down a troop as yet another bullet struck him. He wasn't sure how sever or how numerous his injuries were, nor did he care. All he knew was he could hardly move; the end was near. His shaking legs could hardly support his weight, much less propel him forward and the edge of the heavy sword rested limply on the ground. The hazy image of four more men walking toward him, guns raised, reached his consciousness as though from a dream. It was over. He closed his eyes as gun fire rang out over the cliff.
But he felt nothing. Had he died already? He opened his eyes to see two of the infantrymen on the ground. Behind them, leaning against the rocks in order to stand, was Cloud, holding the gun of one of the many fallen soldiers. It was two against two now; there was hope. That one bit of hope was what forced Zack forward. A bullet grazed his shoulder, but it wasn't near enough to stop him. One swing ended his last target, and he quickly spun around to locate the second. Considering Cloud's impaired condition, he was a surprisingly good shot, for the infantryman was already dead. His eyes met those of his beaten and poisoned friend for one brief moment before Cloud collapsed. Zack stumbled forward toward his companion, but only made it a few steps before falling as well. The last of his strength was spent stretching one hand toward Cloud as the world faded to black.
Zack awoke, disoriented at first, but then the memory of his near death returned in full, vivid detail. Somehow, soaked and blood splattered though he was, he was alive. He forced himself onto his hands and knees, blocking out the sharp pain it brought. He needed to find Cloud, then get to Midgar as soon as possible. Although blonde laid only a few feet away, crawling to reach him still took tremendous effort.
"Cloud," it didn't sound like his voice. Even after long days of training or missions, he had never sounded that drained, that weak. Zack shifted into a sitting position and turned his fellow soldier onto his back to find that Cloud was still out cold. Zack wasn't sure he could even hold up his own weight; there was no way he could carry Cloud as well.
"Cloud," he said again, a little louder this time and Cloud's eyelids fluttered open.
"Zack," Cloud sounded even worse than he did.
"It's okay, buddy," Zack said. A faint smile spread across his face as he realized this was the first time he had heard Cloud speak in years. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to be sentimental. The urgency to reach Midgar hieghtened when he noticed Cloud was bleeding as well, from a bullet wound in his right shoulder and another in his side. Cloud couldn't afford to lose much blood, considering he was already in bad shape.
"We'll be alright. I just need you to try to stand up, okay?" Zack used the rock to balance himself while he pulled Cloud up with him, then put Cloud's right arm around his neck and staggered forward. They had made it to the road when, for the first time on this hellish journey, they got lucky. A truck stopped for them.
"Jeez, what happened to you two?" the driver asked.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Zack answered wearily, "Are you going to Midgar?"
"Sure am," the man said, as though not noticing the hitch-hikers he was picking up were half dead. How much had the world changed if finding people bleeding on the side of the road was a normal thing? "Climb on the back."
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