Chapter 6

My lungs burning, my body aching, my head throbbing, I finally pulled myself over the edge onto the upper plate of Sector 8. Before I did anything I lay down on the cool concrete and let my muscles relax for the first time since noon.

It was hard to believe that a whole day had passed, and that now the sun was once more sinking.

Laura was beside me, cradling Christian and crying softly into his little baby tummy even though the laid-back infant had already calmed down.

We'd spent the best part of two hours hanging from metal cables, climbing for what had seemed an impossibly long time, until Laura had given out a shout of joy and had disappeared over the top of Sector 8's top plate.

I sat up slowly, and cleared my throat, "we should find someplace to spend the night."

"Alright," she said, and slipped Christian back into his baby carrier.

Both of us had a little trouble standing up because although our minds were telling us we should find an inn, our muscles screamed at us to lay down where we were and rest.

We had to climb over several grated fences and lines of 'Caution' tap, but soon we were walking through the highways and byways of Sector 8, having seen no sign of any sort of police.

No one tried to stop us and no one questioned us, so we just kept on walking, looking for someplace to stay.

Sector 8 appeared to be one giant factory, one huge machine stacked on another, with entire neighborhoods built into the cracks.

I asked Laura about it and she agreed. She said that Sector 8 was, in a way, the heart of Midgar. Shinra HQ might be the brain, but Sector 8 produced the goods, refined the mako, and routed all the supplies that kept Midgar alive. Its upper plate had the lowest population of any of the other top plates, but its lower slum area was filled almost to capacity. This was because the poor flocked to Sector 8 to avoid the tax placed on all consumer goods that were transported via rail or pipe. All that the poor in Sector 8 had to do was use a plate-lev, one of the few things that were still free in Midgar, to take them up top. Shinra had allowed this mass exodus only because it made keeping watch over the masses that much easier, apparently Shinra was constantly worried about an uprising of some kind.

"And one more thing," Laura said while I continued to listen intently. "Sector 8's upper plate might not have much of a population, but it's famous for its vicious gangs…so we should be careful around here."

I had to agree with Laura; the whole area looked like it would be a haven for criminals of all kinds. There were scores of empty pipes and abandoned conduits, thousands of forgotten crannies and tunnels, and all of them just waiting for an occupant who had no wish of being found by any sort of authority. We made our way down an asphalt street (one of the few in Sector 8) until we finally entered one of the small 'villages' which had literally been built up in the steel canyon formed by two high towers of machines.

"These places are called 'Nests'," said Laura, "they're where the engineers who keep watch over the machines of Sector 8 live with their families. We should be able to find a boarding house or inn of some sort here with all the traveling those engineers do." I didn't question her and we kept on walking down the narrow road.

Sure enough, we found a hotel almost instantly, proclaiming its services with a small metal-embossed sign hanging out front. All in all the whole place was so much more toned down from what I had known in Wall Market, that I almost found myself getting bored by all the dullness.

Both Laura and I walked in to find an old woman sitting at the counter. Her hair was a metallic gray, and blended in perfectly with her surroundings. Her eyes were a dark brown, and her face covered thickly with wrinkles.

Yet, despite her austere appearance, she smiled warmly when we entered.

"Hello," she said, "and what can I do for you young people?"

"We're here for a room," said Laura.

"Of course," the old woman said, "one or two?"

"One," replied Laura.

The old woman gave us a weird look, especially me, but said, "Ok, that'll be 25 gil."

"Fine," I said and gave her the money.

"You're strangers around here aren't you?" asked the old woman.

There was nothing devious about the old clerk, so I didn't see why we should lie.

"That's right," I said, "We've come from Sector 6."

"Oh my!" gasped the woman, "such a long trip, and with a baby as well…and to think that I didn't even know that the train tracks had been reopened between Sectors 5 and 6 and the rest of Midgar."

Laura nodded, "well, it took more than a little bit of work to get here." She sounded nervous and gave me the 'shut up before you get us into trouble' look.

"Well," said the old woman taking the room key from off a rack behind her head, "I've heard of major food shortages in those two Sectors, and I just feel so bad knowing how much we have when others have so little."

"Thank you," said Laura as she reached for the key.

"You should count yourself lucky girl," said the old woman, "having a loving husband who'll guard you during such a long journey…I've heard that those train muggers are getting more violent and brash by the day."

I was about to tell the old woman that she was mistaken, but Laura cut me off.

"Yes, thank you," she said, "Do you know of anyplace where we could eat?"

"Sure," said the old woman, "Yeo's Diner is just down the street. And," she said, pointing to my jacket, "Mary owns a tailor shop up on level 2's Piston Walk."

Although my shirt and pants had survived our escape from Sector 7 quite well, my jacket had taken the brunt of the Whole Eater's attack. Only the heavy black leather which was the chief material used in its construction had held it together. I could have just thrown it away, but I was beginning to like my new clothes, and figured that it wouldn't hurt to see if I could get the jacket patched up.

"Thank you," I said, "we should be back later this evening."

The old woman nodded, and Laura and I walked back out onto the street.

"We should go get something to eat," I said, "we can worry about the tailor in the morning."

Yeo's Diner was not hard to find, even with its conservative advertisements. It was one of the larger buildings in town, but was one of the few with any sort of sign in front of it. The walls were made out of metal…kind of like everything else in Sector 8, but it had a large one way window in front which allowed the customers inside to look out, but kept street walkers from looking in.

The door jingled as we walked in, and almost immediately a Wutaian man approached Laura and me with a big smile on his face.

"Welcome," he said with a slight accent, "welcome to my restaurant. Please be seated and my daughter will serve you." The man who I guessed to be Yeo led the way to a booth in front of the window.

"Please," he said as he bowed, "my daughter will now serve you, but may I suggest the Sweet and Sour Shrimp…we just got in a fresh catch this morning and my wife is very good at cooking it."

I nodded in response and he flashed another huge smile before walking off into the kitchen.

Almost immediately a small, teenage, Wutaian girl appeared, seemingly out of midair, and handed both Laura and me a menu…which Christian, whose carrier had been placed in the seat next to Laura, reached for with curious eyes.

Yeo's daughter smiled at the baby, "would you like a booster seat for your baby?"

"No thank you," replied Laura, "He'll be fine."

"Such a cute baby…" said the girl.

"Thank you," Laura thanked the girl before turning to look at the menu.

This action seemed to break the young waitress out of her daydream because she slipped back into her hostess dialogue.

"My name is Zaina," she said, "and if there is anything you need simply call me and I will come."

She paused for a moment, "is there anything I can get you to drink? Perhaps," she said, "a beer for you sir?"

"No thank you," I replied, "just ice water for me, and I think I'll have the Sweet and Sour Shrimp your father suggested." Zaina nodded and smiled, then turned to look at Laura.

"The same for you miss?" she asked.

"Sorry," said Laura, "the water sounds fine, but I'm allergic to sea food. I think I'll have the Sesame Chicken with the noodles."

Zaina nodded again, wrote both of our orders down, took both of our menus, bowed, and walked back into the kitchen. Finally I was free to take in my surroundings.

It turned out that we were not the only ones in the restaurant after all. What with Yeo's zealous greeting and the almost magical appearance of our waitress, I had not noticed anyone else. There was, in fact, a couple sitting near the back eating what looked like dessert, and an old fat man with a beard down to his waist sitting in a booth near the register working his way through a noodle platter. None of these people seemed to pay much attention to Laura and me, so I returned the favor by focusing my attention back towards the company at hand.

"So," I asked, "where are you going to go from here?"

Laura had been tending to Christian, but the question forced her to straighten up and look at me.

"I have family in Sector 3," she said, "so I'll probably head there. By the way," she continued, "why were you so desperate to get out of Sector 6 anyway?"

I hesitated for a moment, but figured that Laura had a right to know.

"I'm going to Shinra HQ," I replied. Her eyes widened for a moment, but she did not respond, so we sat there in silence until the food came out.

Both of us took our time eating, chewing slowly and trying to look at anything but each other.

"So…" I finally dropped the question, "why'd you let the woman think we were married?"

Laura finished the bite in her mouth and sighed, "because I wouldn't have felt safe sleeping in a separate room, and I didn't want anyone talking about us…you know…thinking that I was some sort of…" The words choked in her mouth.

"I understand," I said quickly, "but you know…I could still take advantage of you…doesn't that worry you?"

"Sure," said Laura as she dried her eyes, "but you've had ample opportunity before this, you even saved my life." The 'back in Sector 7' was implied, we both knew what she was talking about. Our meal fell back into silence once more.

The Shrimp was quite good, and I told Zaina when she came to refill our glasses.

"Thank you," she replied, bowing low, "I shall tell my mother, I am sure she will be pleased."

It did not take long before both my plate and Laura's were empty. Once again Zaina appeared out of nowhere to clean our places and give us the bill. It was pretty cheap considering, so I left a large tip and walked up to the register where Yeo was waiting. I paid my bill while Laura slipped on the baby carrier. Yeo smiled and bowed again, thanking us for our patronage. I thanked him for his generosity, and, with formalities taken care of, walked out of the restaurant with Laura by my side.

It was late now, and the shadows were deep, the areas around a few street lamps the only territory they'd been denied.

The walk back to the inn was one made in darkness, and I was on constant alert…Laura's warning about the gangs still echoing through my mind.

However, nothing exciting happened except for the cat that accidentally jumped out into our path, and I think it was more scared of us than we were of it.

The inn was dark, but the old woman was still at the counter.

"I'm glad to see you back," she said, "I was just about to lock up."

We thanked the old woman for waiting for us, and then, true to her word, she locked the front door and walked off down the hall.

The key Laura had been given indicated that our room was on the first floor, which was nice considering what had happened the last time I'd slept on the second floor of an inn.

We walked upstairs and found our room, #7. The key turned in the lock and revealed a room with a single bed and a couch. A table with two chairs had been set up in the corner, and a short dresser placed up against the wall, a T.V. placed on top. There was also a door leading to a bathroom.

Neither one of us wanted to watch any television; we didn't have any clothes to put in the dresser and neither of us needed to use the bathroom…but Christian did, and he made sure that we knew.

"I think I need to change his diaper," said Laura as she indicated Christian and the putrid smell that was wafting through the air.

"Sure," I replied, "I'm pretty beat so I'm gonna go to sleep." I locked the door and continued on as Laura walked into the bathroom. "I'm going to sleep on the couch so you and Christian can have the bed," I said. I did not hear any direct reply, so I figured that she didn't want to argue. I put the backpack down by the side of the bed, took off my jacket and sword, and then laid down. I put my jacket on top like a blanket, and kept Reaper grasped in both hands in case of an emergency…I'd learned from experience that one can't trust to luck when sleeping in a place like that. I was out cold before Laura ever left the bathroom.

I woke up to the light of the morning sun shining through the single window to our room. I had spent the whole night in a world of my own…a world without dreams.

Laura was still asleep in the bed with Christian curled up by her side. I had a kink in my neck from sleeping on the couch all night, but other than that I felt wonderfully refreshed. I got up with a sigh as my sore muscles began to move once again. My jacket was slipped back on and my sword strapped onto my back. I didn't want to wake Laura, but I also needed to see if I could find that tailor the innkeeper spoke of.

Luckily I found an old magazine someone had left in on the floor, and there was a pen on top of the dresser next to the TV. So, ripping out one of the pages with a blank side I told Laura where I was and that she shouldn't worry and that she should stay in the hotel room. I left this note on top of the backpack, which I set on the couch. Then, trying to be as quite as possible, I walked out of the room and down the stairs.

The old woman was standing behind the counter as if she'd never left.

"Good morning," she said, "is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yah," I said, "I was going to get my jacket repaired before moving on, and I believe you said something about a tailor last night?"

"Yes," she replied, "Mary owns her own store…that'll be up on level 2's Piston Walk."

"Ok," I said, "how do I get there?"

"You go down past Yeo's place, take a right up the stairs, turn at the next right, walk down that path till you reach a side road to your left, that'll be Piston Walk. You shouldn't have any trouble finding Mary's shop, it has a sign."

"Alright," I replied, "thank you for the directions."

"You're welcome," she said.

A few minutes later I found myself standing in front of 'Mary's Shoppe'. I found the place interesting in many ways: first, the fancy wording of its name, second, the use of colored paint in the sign, third, the fact that there was a cheerful welcome mat on the doorstep.

Shrugging my shoulders I figured I might as well see what was inside. What I found amazed me…

There were colors everywhere. Fabrics and pictures and paper models hanging from the ceiling…all these things and more decorated the shop.

I just stood there, absorbing the cheerfulness, when a woman who I took to be Mary swept into the room on a wave of happy sing song music coming from the back of the store.

"Hello sir," she said, not letting my dark appearance hamper her style. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could fix my jacket," I said, unstrapping Reaper from my back before pulling off my torn jacket. Mary looked a little apprehensive about the sword, but she still approached me and motioned for me to hand her the leather jacket. She looked at it, and hummed out of tune with the music.

"I think that I can at least sew it back together again," she said, "but its pretty badly damaged…it'll never look pretty again."

"That's fine," I said, "as long as it works."

Mary frowned, "but perhaps you would something more…happy?"

"No," I replied, looking around the room once more and shuddering at the thought of what this woman might try to dress me up in given the chance. "No…" I said again, "I've gotten attached to that jacket."

She nodded in a way that said she was willing to do the work, but didn't agree with my decision.

"Alright sir," she said, "I'll take this into the back room and see what I can do…but remember that I make no promises."

"Ok," I said, "how long will it take?'

"Probably around 20 minutes or so," was the reply, "you can wait in here or outside."

I decided that, despite the troubling atmosphere, I'd stay inside the shop. I found a bench surrounded by fake potted plants, and tried to relax. But the woman had left the door to the back room open, and she'd turned up the music volume. The song was driving me crazy, and what's more…she was singing. Mary might have been cheerful, she might have been optimistic, she might be the kind of person to sacrifice anything of hers to help someone else, but there was one thing Mary was not…and that was a singer.

I finally reached the point where I couldn't stand it anymore; I had to get some fresh air. I walked outside and breathed deeply as the music faded away behind the shop's front door.

Piston Walk actually cut right through one of the gigantic machines common to Sector 8.

Looking up through this 'gorge', I could see Shinra HQ rising ominously over all. It was more my mother than the woman who raised me…I had been produced from that building's womb. More than just a building, Shinra was a virus…it gave me life.

I shook my head as my brow furrowed. 'More of a mother than the woman who raised me? how could I say something like that?' I thought to myself. I truly did not know where the thought came from…once again it felt like it was already there and that I had done nothing but remember…but remember what? I had no idea

I pondered these things, but to no avail. Once again it was a downward battle with a mind that would rather hold a convention with itself than help out its owner.

…Someone was calling me…

"Sir," I heard the voice speak again.

"Sir?"

I turned around.

Mary was standing outside the shop door, calling to me.

"I'm finished if you want to come back in," she said, the warm smile returning to her face.

I followed her back into the shop, and further back into her workroom. Mary picked up my jacket and laid it out on the table set up in the center of the room. She'd been forced to use heavy thread to hold the leather together, and the stitches were painfully obvious, as if the coat had been pieced together using ragged strips of material. The thread was dark, but not totally black, which only made it stand out even more. I'm not sure whether Mary simply did not have the right kind of thread in the right color (I would not have doubted it…I got the idea that Mary did not stock much in the way of black), or if she had simply been unable to bring herself to use that dreaded shade of darkness. In any case I thought she did a good job, in fact I thought she did an excellent job. I swung the black leather trenchcoat around my shoulders and strapped on Reaper. I looked at myself in a full length mirror Mary kept in the workroom. I had to say that I almost scared myself…

My skin was deathly pale while my face was still gaunt and looked like it had been chiseled from stone. Past my neck the shadows began. Now I not only wore all black, but the long stitches roaming over my jacket gave it a sinister feel. All in all I liked the look…but I don't think Mary did.

"It's a little…."

"Dark," I finished the sentence for her; it seemed to be the normal reaction.

I looked back in the mirror, and focused on my eyes. They still glowed with an uncanny blue light. Still, people did not seem to notice my eyes…or perhaps they did not want to notice for some reason or another. Maybe it was my history with SOLDIER? I wasn't even sure about what my history with SOLDIER had been, but maybe people were just naturally careful around those who might be employed by Shinra.

"It's perfect," I told Mary. She smiled uncertainly, as if unsure as to whether I'd given her a compliment or not.

"Umm, alright," she said, "if you like it."

"I do," I said, "what do I owe you?"

"It's on the house," she replied, "I never charge for repairs."

"Here," I said digging out 150 gil and tossing it onto the table, "consider it a gift."

I turned my back and walked out before she could reply.

Before I even got back to the inn I could feel that something was wrong. There was an aura of peril in the air, and everything seemed a lot quieter.

I don't know why, but I started to run…as fast as I could. My chest was heaving, my still sore muscles straining underneath my pale skin. The massive machines surrounded me like a pack of malevolent demons, the whirs and crashes of their mechanical processes mocking laughter to my ears.

And then…then the inn was there…

I slowed my pace and coughed hard, but continued walking towards the building. I relaxed as I saw that the door was still safely closed. I actually laughed out loud at my silliness. What I had been worried about I did not know, but my joy was cut short when I realized that the sensation of dread was still there…

The door was closed…when had it been closed? The innkeeper had been opening up when I left and I thought that she left the front door open all day…so why was it closed now?

I approached the door slowly, noticing that the street was totally silent and every window shuttered. Something had happened while I'd been away; I could feel it in the marrow of my bones.

Reaper came out of its sheath, ready to defend its master. I kicked open the door and the last thing I saw was the business end of a baseball bat.

My eyes fluttered open, but the dimness of the room made my vision hazy. Was I even in a room? I couldn't be sure…

I couldn't move, for some reason my arms and legs wouldn't obey me, and for a single terror filled second I thought that my back had somehow been broken and that I was now a quadriplegic. However, my fingers and toes were still wiggling and I still had feeling in my limbs…so just what was going on? Then the pain hit me. It was a hard searing pain, the kind that comes after being knocked in the head real hard. It waits around till it's sure you're good and conscious, and then blows away your nerve endings in an explosion of colored lights that threaten to knock you out again. I moaned, and the voices around me stopped for a moment.

"He's awake," someone said.

"Get him on his feet," another one said with a voice of command.

Someone with very big hands gripped the back of my collar and pulled me to my feet. The hand let me go, but had to grab hold again to keep me from falling down.

I could see a dark figure moving towards me, its face distorted as my mind continued to get itself back into order.

"I've been waiting a long time for this," it said before my belly bunched in on itself. I collapsed back onto the floor in a world of pain, realizing that someone had punched me in the stomach. The new pain gave my brain something else to focus on, and my vision finally started to clear.

I was trapped in a metal room with only one steel door. An unshaded light bulb hung on a single wire from the ceiling, casting its ghostly yellow light about the room. There were no windows and no chairs either. There was only me and a group of men who looked like they pulled the skins off kittens just for fun.

My legs were tied together by a thick rope, and my wrists were fettered with steel hand-cuffs.

I managed to sit and lean my back up against the wall as I gasped for air.

The man in front of me was the one who'd punched me, and obviously the leader. He was also holding my sword in his right hand, the empty sheath in his left.

"Nice sword," he said, "I think I'll keep it seeing as how you aren't going to be needing it anytime soon." He laughed at his own joke, a signal for the other thugs to begin chuckling nervously. He was a black man, not necessarily tall, but muscular like a wrestler who hadn't been training lately. He had a mohawk died bright yellow, and a bright red vest with brown trousers. His fingers were encrusted in rings made of gold, silver, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and probably a plethora of other precious metals and expensive rocks.

"You are you?" I asked, spitting out a glob of blood, "and what do you want?"

"Ha!" he said, "the man thinks he can ask questions huh?" I just stared at him. He scratched his chin, "alright," he said, "I'll tell you." He swung Reaper through the air once or twice, and then threw the blade and sheath over into the corner. "I," he said, "am the great Kotch."

He certainly didn't suffer from a self-esteem problem.

"And," he continued, "I want to take my revenge out on your skin."

I must have looked confused because he kept on going.

"How did I find you, you ask? Its quite simple…I followed you!" He laughed again, "I must admit that I was impressed with your ability to escape those Whole Eaters…you kept them away from me and my men anyway."

"Why?" I asked again.

"Because you killed two of my men," he said.

"I only killed one of your men," I said, "I even gave him a fair chance for survival. I let the other one go."

"Jimmy?" Kotch said, "I had to kill him as an example for what happens to failures, but you were the one who beat him and I say that makes you responsible."

"How about you go…" my insult was cut off with a sharp blow from an invisible fist.

"Where's the girl?" I asked, "and the baby…you didn't hurt them did you?" I don't know why I asked; maybe I just hoped that Kotch would settle for killing me.

"That whore and her brat?" Kotch said, "they defied me too…it wasn't as if I could let them go." He knocked on the metal door and it opened into a second room. The door man came walking in with Christian cradled in his arms. For a second my spirits were lifted as I could see that the baby was still alive. Then the door man moved to the side and gave me an unobstructed few of the steel cell beyond my own.

There she was…for a moment I thought that she was just flying…floating in midair…I was wrong. It took me only seconds to see the thin around her neck connected to the ceiling fan above. Laura's eyes stared sightlessly at me, her mouth open in a silent appeal for mercy. In the background Kotch was laughing.

"She screamed good before she went," he said, "calling out for someone named Zack…that you?"

But I wasn't listening…I could focus on nothing but her eyes. They were boring into me, pillaging my soul. They called to me, asked me why I hadn't been more careful, why I hadn't ducked the baseball bat, why I hadn't been there to save her when she needed me most. I'd promised Mrs. Herron that her daughter would be save…now I would never even get a chance to tell the woman about her daughter's death. The kindly innkeeper would never know anything about her daughter's fate…she'd probably blame me…

"Hey!" said Kotch as he kicked me in the leg, "your name Zack?"

The shadow was there, buried in my memories, but watching all the same. I embraced the shadow for it was me…it is what I was, and am, and always will be. I took it and subjected it to my will as one would bring a lion to the ground before releasing it again at an enemy. I was going to kill the people who had done this to Laura…I was going to make them scream REAL good before they died.

I looked up at Kotch's leering face, before moving my legs and snapping the rope. The thugs backed up as I got to my feet. It was as if every cell in my body were on an adrenaline high, vibrating and straining at the leash to be released.

My eyes flared. I don't know exactly how I was aware of this, but I knew at that moment, everyone in the room saw my eyes as burning infernos of ice cold flame.

"Ummm," bumbled one of the murderers behind me, "Boss…"

"What!?" Kotch practically yelled as he backed towards the door.

"His hand-cuffs are melting," said the man nervously as he too backed away. In fact, the entire gang was making it's way toward the door, suddenly very unsure of what they'd gotten themselves into, and defiantly sure that they no longer wanted to be in it.

I moved my hands out from behind my back, hot trails of liquid metal dripping down my wrists without so much as a blister to show for it. The liquid steel felt cool on my flesh as it dripped off my finger tips.

Both of my hands shot out, one towards the door and the other towards my sword. The metal door slammed shut, its lock melting, sealing the gateway. At the same time my sword flew through the air and was easily caught as my fist closed around its leather hilt.

'What is this power?' I thought to myself.

'It is a gift,' one of the voices answered, 'a gift from your Mother.'

I knew that my mother could not have given me such power, but I didn't stop to ask questions…it was time for justice to be served.

"You wanted to know my name?" I asked.

Kotch just shook his head, his eyes filled with terror, "no…its ok…every man has a right to privacy."

"I agree," I said, moving my fingers along the edge of my sword, feeling its will in my grasp. It craved blood; it wanted to sing…it wanted me to give it life. "So," I continued, "you can just call me the Reaper."

Kotch's eyes opened wide as saucer plates in anger and despair.

"Kill him!" he screamed, "Shoot him!"

The guns came out but I was already moving…

There were seven of Laura's murderers in that steel cage, but they'd been caught in their own trap. There was no place to go and no place to hide, and as the air was filled with hot lead my blade began to sing.

It chanted a song of frustration, of anger, of shattered dreams. It lifted up a Requiem for the innocent…it wrote a Nocturne for the fallen in a world of darkness. I had become a conductor of shadow and Reaper was my instrument…I knew this tune and played it well…