Rufus felt like he could rip the door off the car.
He jerked sharply upward on the handle and felt the weight of it as it swung open but not quickly enough to escape what had caught his scent.
The Kalm Fang normally wouldn't have been a problem if not for his lack of desire to wake the ones above him. None of them were in condition to rise from bed and save him, and his bullets were in short supply due to the fall of Midgar.
Rufus bent to throw his body into the car, but it was too late to avoid the crunch of jaws around his left forearm.
Calm. Stay calm. I can't shoot it-how am I going to-
He planted his boot against the ground and heaved himself out of the car, pushing himself closer to the beast, and the young man could swear he could see confusion in the tiny glowing eyes.
I'm going to die here tonight.
Fight or flight instinct was harsh, especially when there was no option of flight.
Rufus' fist banged down on top of the creature's head with a rattling jar that made the teeth sink deeper into the fabric of the hoodie and scrape his skin. Rufus felt as if he was a puppet on a string, not doing what he was doing of his own action.
He wasn't typically a violent man, but he felt the reaper close, and he refused to be part of his company.
His fist repeatedly crashed into the creature's head, a sickening snap erupting from somewhere which he guessed was something in the Fang's skull.
But yet the creature's eyes wheeled up to look at his face, defiantly clamping down harder to keep hold of its prey.
I'm going to die.
It's going to kill me.
They're going to find me in pieces.
… She'll die if I don't go.
Rufus shifted his weight and sank a heavy kick into the creature's side.
A pained yelp erupted from its chest, just enough for Rufus to rip his arm out of its mouth and plunge back toward the car.
He crashed down into the seat hard enough that his teeth clacked together before he shakily reached for the car door handle and snatched it shut not a second too soon when the Fang's nose banged into the glass and rocked the car, the creature's body weight causing the vehicle to shimmy.
Rufus was left with his own panting, sparkles shooting through his chest as he stared wide-eyed at the saliva on the window, the Fang's frame large enough to allow the beast to stand level and breathe on the glass, the smears of it wiping its face leaving trails for Rufus to see outside at what was waiting on him if he was able to return.
Calm. Calm down. You're safe.
You have to go.
She'll die if you don't go.
He reached for the keys in his pocket, a numb sensation wrapping his knuckles as he managed to get them out without dropping them.
Rufus shakily inserted the key into the ignition and turned the engine over. It purred like most Shinra vehicles, smooth and ready.
Okay.
The vehicle's shimmying stopped as the beast, alarmed from the car's cranking, had backed off to lick its chops.
Rufus turned the lights on and took a deep breath, shakily letting it hiss out before he pushed himself into action.
He put the car into drive before pulling out onto the road and driving toward his goal.
Everything is fine.
I just avoid being seen, get the ether, maybe some medicine, and I return home.
They're going to be fine.
I have to be fast.
His grip was shaky on the wheel as numbness gave way to the first tingles of dull pain.
My hand… Is it broken?
He kept control of the vehicle with his palm and tried to spread his fingers, taking a deep lungful of air to keep himself calm and quiet despite the fact that he had no one around to hear the evidence of pain.
He couldn't fully extend his middle or ring finger.
Hmph.
I'll buy some bullets, too.
I'll get you, don't worry.
At that point, it won't matter if they wake up.
Calm resignation flowed through him as he took inventory of his injuries.
His left forearm also protested as he stretched that hand out to grip the wheel, the lights of Edge getting closer with each passing minute.
I wonder if my arm is broken?
No, the hoodie helped with that.
Probably strained muscles. … I'm still not completely well from Geostigma.
The rest of the trip across the wasteland was gracefully uneventful, Rufus given the time to breathe, convince himself that he could do what he set out to do, and save his Turks.
The lights pouring from the ramshackle city were less than they would've ordinarily been, and even he understood that, though he hadn't seen it in twilight as much as he would've liked-he'd been sick for a long time and barely able to stay awake in Healen much less make the trip to a city dangerous to him and his people.
That danger quotient hadn't changed, either, and he took note of that as he slowed approaching what appeared to be a hastily-erected gate held together by wire and rusty steel pipes.
There were two people on either side of the gate, their faces turned toward the approaching car and its bright headlights.
He had no choice but to slow and come to a stop right before the gate, thickly swallowing his nerves as he forced himself to relax, shaky right hand coming down to rest on his thigh.
The outline of his gun felt like it was burning against his side as the two approached, one on the driver and one on the passenger side.
Rufus' eyes flicked toward the driver side window as he reached to press the button to have it roll down.
The guy standing beyond had a snide look on his face as he leaned down, getting closer to the open window.
"Nice car y'got, sweet. Where'd you get it? And what the fuck are you doing out an' comin' here this late?"
Rufus bit back the words he wanted to spew at the man.
His nerves were frayed, he was scared, and he had a bad feeling he was about to be discovered.
"Found it in the wastelands. Some sucker left it abandoned, so I figured I might as well snag it."
The guy on the passenger side let a low whistle. "Gem like this? I dunno 'bout that. Awful nice. Looks like it was kept good, like it was useful t'somebody."
Rufus quipped before he could stop himself. "Yeah, useful t'me."
Both of the guys chuckled at the same time before driver-side-guy tapped the top of the car. "Happen t'be toward Healen Lodge?"
"Yep."
"Man, you're so fucked if they figure out where you are."
Passenger-side-guy thought for a moment before adjusting his rifle. "Ain't that where Shinra's stayin'?"
"Yep." Driver side had glanced up before looking back down to Rufus. "Better watch y'back, sweet. But anyway, what'cha here so late for?"
"Meds. I got sick people an' Strife ain't takin' calls."
"Yeah, that lazy fuck's been outta town the past few days with that kid."
Passenger side huffed. "Y'mean that kid that's always sittin' on the bar's steps?"
"Yeah. His name's Denzel, ain't it? Poor kid." Driver side looked down to Rufus again, and it was only then that the blond realized he was wearing sunshades. "Strife Delivery's closed, so no wonder y'couldn't get through. Y'realize there's a curfew cuz of the shit that happened, yeah?"
"No idea. This is the first time I've been in Edge in a long time."
"Got'cha. … Hmph. Corey, we wanna let him through, sweet?"
"Don't see why not." Passenger side's-Corey's-gruff voice practically growled the statement, and it was then that Rufus realized that Corey, too, was wearing sunshades. "He needs meds for his people. Good luck findin' that shit. It's in short supply, so y'might be more likely t'get got findin' it than not."
"I'm sure I'll manage."
"You from Midgar, sweet?" Driver side leaned back over.
"Yep. Ain't been back since the shit happened."
"Don't blame you. Ramshackle fuckin' place. Snapped us all back t'our reality. But whatever. I'm Edge, that's Corey. We guard the gate every night, so don't be a stranger if y'really need through, yeah?
This ain't gonna be no Midgar."
"Got it. 'Preciate that."
"Yep." Edge looked up at Corey. "Open the gate f'this asshole." He looked back down to Rufus. "Y'might wanna do y'business fast. Thieves get bad on the street this time'a night, sweet."
"Thanks."
Edge stepped back from the car, and Corey wandered to lift the corner of the gate and manually walk it outward to let the car pass through.
Why are they wearing sunglasses?
Why do they seem familiar?
As the car slowly ambled through the gate, Corey shut it behind and regrouped with Edge.
The taller man reached up to grip his sunshades, tipping them upward to let them nestle in his hair, glittering mako eyes peering at the back of the car. "Some shit ain't right 'bout that one."
"Y'caught it, too?" A smirk passed over Corey's face. "Somebody sounds like a fake Midgarian."
"Fuckin' forced accent. Bet."
"Want me t'follow him?"
"Be pretty funny. Y'buy him stealin' that car?"
"Nope. He looks like a Turk. Y'remember that little blond boy they had before shit hit the fan an' they scattered like roaches? Bet they ain't as well off as they like t'paint it, yeah? A Turk comin' this late at night? Y'see him favorin' his right hand?"
"Either that or ready t'draw that gun on his left side. He's packin' big heat. Y'see it?"
"Yeah. Hoodies don't hide shit like that. But I thought he used nunchucks?"
"Nunchaku, y'fuckin' idiot." Edge looked back toward the gate, but the car had glided past and turned to disappear. "Follow that bitch."
A sinister smirk passed over the shorter guy's face, and he let the rifle rattle down against his stomach as he turned and crunched toward the gate.
Edge watched his friend go and dropped the dark glasses back over his eyes to hide the mako glow.