Chapter Fourteen
On The Highwind, a week later.
The incessant ringing of the alarm clock brought him out of the blissfulness of his slumber. Slamming the button down, he rolled back over in bed, waiting for his mind to will his body up. Unfortunately, his body was very comfortable right where it was at. He reluctantly tried to sit up. He strained with effort against some force holding him down. Looking down, a smile lit up his lean face. He sighed. God, she is an angel from heaven.
"Hey, love," he whispered in her ear, "It's time to get up."
She groaned and buried her head deeper into his chest.
"Teef, you really need to get up."
"Yeah, he's right," a voice came from the door.
Quickly covering his love's exposed flesh, Spike's head shot up towards the source of the voice.
"Ah," Spike greeted, "Mornin', Reno."
"Same to you, Spike."
"What the hell are you doin' up this early?"
"Cloud and I were going over some of the rules of the duel between you and him."
"I see," Spike answered, caressing Tifa's cheek as she woke up.
Rolling over, Tifa looked up at Spike as he spoke to Reno. She noticed his features had changed subtly. No one would notice this change unless they knew Spike very well. On a normal day, his facial muscles would be relaxed and his movements would be fluid and normal. As he got up out of bed, and moved to put his pants on, she noticed his movements were more fluid, as if water filled his muscles. His facial muscles were tighter and he was quiet and lost in thought.
"So, when does the duel start?" Tifa inquired, looking at Reno.
Looking at his watch, he answered, "Well, its three a.m. now. Sunrise is expected to be at 5:30 or so." Reno grinned slightly, "Just like those old westerns, it starts at dawn."
"Great," spoke up Spike, as he pulled on his worn blue suit jacket, "I just love an old western."
Two hours later…
Lighting a cigarette, Spike walked out onto the Highwind deck. The stars sparkled like a thousand diamonds in the sky. He looked east, and saw gray start to brush the horizon, signaling the coming day. He drew his pistol and trained it on various random targets. A bush, a tree, the cockpit of the Highwind. Reno. Reno?
He only spoke "It's time, Spike." And then, he walked away.
In his little, cramped room in the Highwind, he sat, frozen, in deep concentration. Lost in thought. He was thinking about the duel. The evil he would need to put down. More evil than Sephiroth. Well…maybe not that evil, but close. He picked up the sword that was leaning against the wall and swung it around a few times. Good. He could do this. Spike had ripped the bitch from his hands; he was going to rip him from her. His thoughts were broken up by a sound near the door. He looked up and saw Red XIII standing there.
"It's time, Cloud," he uttered.
Spike walked down the ramp out of the Highwind, and lit up a cigarette. Pink had replaced the gray on the horizon. About ten minutes or so, the sun would peek over the horizon and the fight would start.
Looking over the field where he was fighting in, he noticed quite a large crowd had gathered. The men and women of Avalanche had become quite famous since the defeat of Sephiroth. Now, two men of Avalanche were goin at it, the news was huge, and word spread quickly. Rude, Faye, Cid and Barret were busy keeping the crowd at a safe distance, so the two could fight. In the center of the void, Cloud kneeled, his eyes closed, his body motionless. Reno was also there, waiting.
Slowly, Spike made his way into the circle, the cigarette in his mouth. He reached into his worn jacket to feel for his gun. The cold, reassuring steel calmed any nervousness that he might have felt. Finally reaching the center of the circle, he faced Cloud, and awaited the instructions from Reno, who had done this before, back when he was a Turk. Reno knew how to do this, and knew what would happen.
"The fight that is taking place today is between Cloud Strife, who challenged his opponent, Spike Spiegel in a fight to the death. The rules are as follows. No mercy. The fight is over when one of the men are dead. Two weapons can be used, a primary and secondary weapon. Spike's primary is a silver Desert Eagle. His secondary is a throwing knife. Cloud's primary is his Ultimate Weapon. He has no secondary. No magic maybe used. No outside interference is allowed. No man in the fight may attack a bystander. A barrier is set up to protect the audience from stray bullets. When the sun breaches the horizon, the fight will start. Fighters, get ready!"
The sun would break the horizon in a few moments. The two men stood on opposite sides of the circle, waiting for the sun. Cloud's materia had been stripped from him, so he could not cast any magic. Spike only had three clips to finish of Cloud. It would be a rough fight for both.
Then, between one instant and the next, the sun creases the sky. In a flash, the gun was out of the holster, and Cloud was charging Spike, sword held high. Drawing a bead on Cloud, Spike pulled the trigger. Ducking in full run, Cloud dodged the bullet, and slashed downward at Spike. Lithely dodging the strike, Spike rolled to his right, and came up kneeling. He pulled the trigger three times, miss with two. The third bullet found its mark. The bullet lodged itself in Cloud's left forearm. Cursing, he powered up his limit break.
"OMNISLASH!" Cloud cried.
Leaping into the air, he let loose with a flurry of strikes, thrusts, slashes and drives at Spike. All Spike could do was dodge and block every blow with his gun. Finally, Cloud leapt high into the air for the final strike. Spike found his opening. Raising the gun, he pulled the trigger.
Click.
The firing pin came down on an empty chamber. Looking into Cloud's eyes, he felt fear creep into his body for the first time. He froze, to scared to move. Cloud came down, hard. Spike clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, waiting to be sliced in half. Seconds passed, and nothing happened.
"What the fuck?!" he heard Cloud utter. He opened his eyes to see the blade of Cloud's sword frozen half an inch from his forehead.
Never one to ask questions, and one to always take the opportunity, Spike loaded his gun and brought it to bear on Cloud. He pulled the trigger, and it froze.
"What the hell?" Spike choked out. He couldn't pull the trigger. He looked at Cloud, who was still frozen in midair. He was straining with every muscle to move his sword.
Looking around, he noticed that mist covered the field. The whole crowd had disappeared, except for Tifa. Finally, a voice came from the center of the once clear field.
"Is this a dream, Spike?"
Spike gasped.
"What is it?" Tifa asked, running to his side.
"Who's there?" Cloud shouted into the mist.
"Vicious," Spike and the mist answered as one.