.

9. Cid

Cid spotted the three figures running towards him before they saw him. That was chiefly because they were practically running backwards, so they could better see the horde of Heartless charging after them.

"Shit!" he cursed. "Over here!"

One wearing what looked like a pink dressing gown turned to see him. It was a girl. Her face was streaked with Heartless dust and tears. "That way!" she yelled at the other two. "Hurry!"

Cid levelled one of the weapons he had picked up from the storage shed. Technically, it was a prototype that never got past the beta-testing stage and was too dangerous to use. It was also an ugly sonovobitch that looked like a cross between a blunderbuss and a laser rifle by way of a food processor, but it had enough destructive power and radius for his needs. If it blew off his hands he wouldn't care for long. The Heartless would be on him if he didn't stop them first.

"Get down!" he thundered.

"Are you kidding?" demanded the boy inefficiently swinging a gunblade.

"NOW!" Cid used his best drop-and-give-me-twenty voice.

As one, the three figures dropped to the cobbles.

Cid squeezed the trigger. The energy cell on top of the weapon flared briefly before unleashing its charge. The kickback from the blast of electric-blue energy nearly took him off his feet. He transferred his weight onto his back leg, gritted his teeth and held steady. He even managed to sweep the shot from side to side, just enough to disintegrate the Heartless about to make a meal of the three now kissing dirt.

With a hiss, the cell died. Cid lowered the weapon. He counted three quaking heads, slightly singed, but still intact. He even still had his own hands. "Move it!" he shouted.

"We stopped and dropped. Aren't we supposed to roll now?"

"Lea, shut up."

Cid took a few steps, but they covered the distance to him pretty good on their own. Two boys and a girl, all dirty, breathless and wide-eyed in their own way. A manic gleam in the redhead's eyes made Cid automatically peg him as one to watch. He recognised a powder-keg when he saw one. Cid could now see that what he had thought was a dressing gown was actually a healer robe, which made the girl valuable. His brain flashed to the cadet and his ruined eyes. The boy with blue hair looked weirdest of all, but seemed most stable. He stared expectantly at Cid.

"Introductions later," Cid snapped. "We got less than twenty-five minutes before we're stuck in this hellhole with no escape route."

"You have a way out?" the girl asked. "Can't you wait a little while? We need to see if there are any more survivors. We barely had a chance to look –"

"Ain't no time, sweet-cheeks." Cid hardened his voice. Maybe if he played the part enough, he wouldn't feel like such a bastard. It had always worked before. "I got one ticket outta here. I can take as many as can get to my ship in," he consulted his watch, "twenty-two minutes. After that it's g'night an' don't let the door hit ya on the way out."

Her expression was woeful. She dropped her eyes, almost not speaking to him at all. "But my friends … my teachers …"

"I especially need you to get on board my ship, girlie."

"Me? Why me?"

"You're a healer, right?"

"Um, kind of. I'm an apprentice –"

"Well we got us a real bad medical emergency already belted into one o' the premium seats." Cid's attempt at levity fell flatter than a shadow on concrete. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and gave them clipped instructions on how to reach the Highwind.

"You aren't coming too?" enquired the blue-haired boy, raising one equally blue eyebrow. He hadn't volunteered his name. none of them had. The redhead was still full of adrenaline and the healer girl too full of her own thoughts to remember introductions, but Cid got the feeling this one had deliberately witheld the information. He reminded Cid of stray dogs he used to watch when he was in private lodgings, before he joined the Air Force. Those critters used to peer around the corner by the butcher's shop, mouths watering at the smell of meat every time something got tossed in the trash out back, but too wary to go ahead and take it. Those dogs had been kicked too many times to rush in blindly. This kid had the same wary patience, which set him apart from the burning chaos around them.

He shook off the unwanted memories. He had been a different person back then and there were more pressing things to think about right now. No time for strolls down Memory Lane tonight. "I got twenty minutes an' I reckon you ain't the only waif an' strays need pickin' up. You can make it back to the ship without me."

The redhead gave a wicked smile. "And what are we supposed to write on your headstone if you don't make it back in time?"

"Cid Highwind."

"Captain Cid Highwind?" echoed the blue-haired boy. "The Captain Highwind? Head of the Air Force Cadets? The Cid Highwind who used to be Chief Mechanical Engineer of the Airborne Military Research Division?"

"Reckon that wouldn't all fit on a tombstone, kid." Cid turned on his heel, surreptitiously checking the charge on his unnamed weapon. He had enough for one more blast. He hoped. "Now get to it. An' don't touch nuthin' on or near the controls! Autopilot'll take care of everythin' if worst comes to worst." He strode off without looking back.

"But –" the girl started.

Cid kept walking. All the fancy titles and inglorious pasts in the world didn't matter when it was you versus flames, darkness and your own fear. He wouldn't have any gravestone, but if he did, he knew what it should say:

Here Lies Cid Highwind.

He tried his best.

He failed a lot.

What a dumbass.