Chapter Four
Breakfast was a mostly quiet affair. Both Sephiroth and Zack wondered if the brick would be mentioned, but if Dalton knew anything about it, he said nothing. Nor did he speak of his sudden flight from the house. However, he did say that if they wished, the prison was ready to be investigated as soon as they were done eating. And Sephiroth did, indeed, wish it.
From the look he and Zack exchanged as they stood, it seemed that they both wondered if Dalton's early morning visit to the prison had been in order to "ready" it for the guests. If anything had been moved there from the house, maybe it had been relocated again. Perhaps now, whatever weapons there might be had been given residence in the villagers' tents. Or for all the SOLDIERs would know, maybe now they had all been returned to the tunnel.
Several moments later, they were following Dalton out the door and next door to the penitentiary. Despite the overcast sky, it was still warmer than Zack was used to, and he fanned himself with a hand. The temptation to just remove his gloves was growing stronger.
"How do you stand it, Seph?" he demanded of the other. Noticing the quicksand bubbling around the old stone wall, he moved as far away from it as possible.
Sephiroth shrugged. The heat had never been a problem for him, nor the cold either, really---which was why he could feel comfortable leaving his coat open and not wearing a shirt.
He looked to Dalton as the other man took a remote control out of his pocket and aimed it at the front gate. A sensor beeped and a red beam ran across the device. Then something could be heard clicking, and the iron gates slowly opened with a loud creak. Once they had done so, the brick drawbridge behind them began to lower, until it came to a halt on the solid ground just beyond the murky mire.
Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. "I had heard that the drawbridge could only be activated from the security room inside the building," he commented.
Dalton replaced the small object in his pocket before moving forward onto the strong brick surface. "That was true," he admitted, "but it was often inconvenient. So I had my head guard invent another way for me to get in. I'm the only one who has one of these. It would be too risky for any of the guards to possess them, and I'm sure you can understand why, since they work so closely with the prisoners---many of whom are very violent."
Zack kept to the center of the platform as he walked over, and Sephiroth did likewise. "So does it only work from the outside?" the raven-haired man asked.
Dalton nodded. "Yes, and that side of the entrance," he said with a gesture, "but don't think that would stop prisoners from trying to get hold of it." He reached the other end and stepped into the courtyard.
Sephiroth stepped off next to him. "Aren't you concerned that they will try to ambush you to get your device?"
"Not really." Dalton smirked darkly. "Rakesh, my head guard, handles all such possible . . . disturbances." With that he strode toward the doors leading inside.
Zack raised an eyebrow. "Rakesh?" he repeated, and shook his head. "I dunno . . . I don't like the way he said that part about disturbances."
Sephiroth walked past him. "We'll find out soon enough," he grunted. The closer he got to the doorway, the more obvious and clear came the screams from inside. Apparently two or more convicts were brawling, and the rest were cheering for either one or the other, yelling "FIGHT! FIGHT!" with vigor. That was probably the most excitement they got in this place.
Zack followed his friend to the doorway, crossing his arms as he looked inside. It opened immediately into a room where some of the prisoners were gathered in a semi-circle, observing the furious fistfight with relish. The space was ordinary, and sparsely furnished, with only a table or two, but it was still enough to give Zack pause.
Sephiroth frowned, seeing the other SOLDIER tense out of the corner of his eye. "What is it?" he demanded, half-turning to study the brunet. He almost looked as though he had seen a ghost.
Zack swallowed hard, then grinned. "Nothing," he said, moving around Sephiroth to follow Dalton into the building. But the truth was, the room was instantly recognizable from his dream. And that scared him. He had never been in there previously, nor had he known anything of what it would look like. The other prisons he had seen were quite different. There would have been nothing from which his subconscious could have drawn.
Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, trailing after his friend.
Dalton was to the left, not seeming concerned by the fray. He smirked, looking to a man coming out of an inner room. As the silver-haired man turned his gaze in that direction, he immediately sensed something dark about the newcomer.
He was tall, around Sephiroth's own height and build, and sported straight, shoulder-length black hair. His face was long and pointed, his blue eyes were narrowed cruelly, and his thin lips were parted in a sadistic gesture. He was dressed in a dark blue uniform and matching gloves, and in his right hand he propped a long stick against the floor. Dalton did not even have to introduce him; Sephiroth was certain that this was Rakesh.
"You know what to do," Dalton smiled.
"Indeed." Rakesh went directly to the crowd, using his pole to force the spectators aside and allow him to pass. One of them yelped in pain, as if having been electrically shocked. This made Rakesh sneer all the more, and as he came to stand in the middle of the floor, he roughly and repeatedly jabbed his weapon down between the two men who were brawling.
Zack tensed, a shiver running up his spine as the agonized cries rent the air. In shock he looked to Sephiroth, then Dalton. "What is this?!" he cried in alarm. "He's hurting him!" How could this be allowed? How could the warden stand by and do nothing? Why had the guard not simply called for reinforcements and pulled the duo away from each other? This was an outrage!
Dalton clapped him on the shoulder, an act that first startled him and then made him all the more furious. "They're misbehaving, like children," he explained, as if Zack was a juvenile himself. "They need to be taught that it isn't permitted here." He nodded back to the scene. "Look, they aren't hurt, just subdued."
Zack did turn his attention back to the inmates. Both fighters were sprawled on the cement, groaning and unable to move. Rakesh stood over them, still aiming his spear-like weapon and being obviously pleased with his work. All of the other prisoners remained stock still, not wanting to bring the man's wrath upon them as well.
The brunet clenched his fists. "It's not right!" he cried indignantly. "This is supposed to be a correctional facility. It's supposed to guide these people on how to live better lives, to prepare them to be able to get back into the outside world! But this isn't going to help them at all! This is torture, plain and simple!"
Sephiroth silently laid a hand on Zack's shoulder, as if to quiet and steady him. He was angry too, and he could understand the other's indignation and his need for justice to be done, but this would not help. He could already see that both Dalton and Rakesh were looking at them with annoyance and even hostility. Slowly, the convicts were moving to gaze in that direction too. None of them appeared pleased, even though it was on their behalf that Zack was speaking.
For what seemed an eternity, no further words or sounds came from anyone. Even the injured men were quiet, as if the SOLDIER's speech had caused them to forget their pain. Sephiroth could almost reach out and touch the hatred lingering in the air. The message was clear---Your words, and you, are not welcome here. Don't meddle in things that are not your affair!
Abruptly Rakesh began to laugh, the chilling and grating sound echoing throughout the large room. "A Shinra dog, speaking against torture? Isn't that hypocrisy?" He stepped over the prone bodies and came to stand near Zack, pointing the tip of his electropole at the raven-haired man's throat. "How many people have you hurt in your lifetime, cur? I bet you did worse than give them a few jolts with something like this."
Sephiroth fixed him with an icy stare that warned him of the consequences, should he try to use that stick for more than pointing. Of course Zack was able to defend himself, but any attack against him or Sephiroth would be as good as declaring war on SOLDIER. And they would never let themselves be beaten in a war. He gripped the hilt of the Masamune.
Zack, though momentarily surprised by having the weapon jabbed at him, swiftly got over the shock. He snatched the pole part, shoving it away from him. "I don't have to answer to the likes of you," he replied in a low tone.
Rakesh blinked, actually seeming taken aback. But it instantaneously passed and he moved the stick back as he started to walk past the other. "You will, boy," he hissed, his smile becoming even more grotesque. "Everyone answers to me sooner or later, and if I have my way, you and the other Shinra dog will die before even twenty-four hours have passed." With that he strode in determination up the hall and through the door from which he had entered.
Zack drew a shaky breath as he stared after the guard. He knew he had reacted inappropriately to this situation. It was both one of his strengths and one of his weaknesses---his inability to hold his tongue at such gross injustice. But he could not understand why no one had done anything to stop such a madman. Why was he even allowed to work here? What was wrong with these people? Dalton and Rakesh spoke of Shinra and SOLDIER with such vehemence, and yet they themselves were the monsters that they believed their visitors were! It was not right. It was not right at all!
"Well," Dalton said abruptly, "let's continue the inspection, shall we?" He barely glanced over as two other guards hauled the "subdued" prisoners to their feet, then forced them to walk forward with the threat of other electropoles at their backs.
Sephiroth looked to him, his green eyes narrowed. "Is this the standard proceedure for handling 'disturbances'?" he asked, throwing the warden's own words back at him.
Dalton chuckled, unconcerned. "No, only when a serious offense is committed," he replied. "Of course, if they tried something as frowned upon as, say, a prison break, the penalty would most likely be . . . death." He said this with a casual smile and a shrug, as if it was a matter of no greater concern than the weather.
"You never did say what it is that they've done." Sephiroth half-turned, beginning to walk alongside the other as he headed in the same direction that all the prisoners and guards were going. "You only mentioned something vague about broken rules." Zack was on Sephiroth's other side, still silent as he gathered his emotions together.
"Ah yes." Dalton seemed unbothered by the subject being approached. "Well, I'm sure you can imagine. Thievery is the most common sin among the villagers, and then there are hopeless cases such as what you just witnessed. Assault and battery is treated very seriously around here."
Yeah, thought Zack, by assaulting them more! But he forced himself to stay quiet. Sephiroth should handle this angle, since he could do so without becoming visibly incensed. When he actually thought of it, he wondered if he had ever seen the other downright angry. He could not remember such a time. Sephiroth always seemed so perfectly in control of his feelings. If he ever did lose his temper, however, then Zack was certain that he would bring Hell upon the victim of his rage. Zack shuddered slightly at the thought.
"And for a village with so few survivors, you certainly have a fair number of prisoners."
The raven-haired man snapped back to the present. Had he missed an important part of the discussion? He was not certain, but he could see now that they had arrived at the corridor of cells. The spaces were small and cramped, but still tried to accomodate two inmates each---even though it was quite obvious that there should only be one person per cell. Zack frowned again. If Dalton did not insist on such a fancy house, with so many hidden passages, then this building could be renovated. It definitely needed such an overhaul.
"Oh . . . there were a few more than Shinra may have been led to believe." Dalton strode down the corridor calmly, his hands behind his back, watching as the guards herded the convicts into their respective chambers. He approached it all in a very blasé, nonchalant manner, and either did not notice or care about the mens' plight.
"They're crammed in like sardines!" Zack could not help but say.
The warden did not take offense, if either Zack or Sephiroth believed he would. "Well," he said calmly, "that's why they should be more careful and not break the rules. It only causes them inconveniences such as this."
Sephiroth grunted. "A prison sentence is more than an 'inconvenience.'"
Dalton seemed to find this amusing. "True, true," he said. "It is, at that."
Most all of the building had the same, rundown feeling that the entrance and the cellblock did. The long tables in the cafeteria were rusted, as were the benches, and the paint on the walls was peeling. The floor had been cleaned recently, but there were still remnants of old food spills engrained in the concrete. And more recent ones, too, Zack discovered, as he sidestepped what looked like a blob of catsup. At least, he hoped it was catsup.
Dalton had tried to fix his office in a way that would make it seem more pleasant, and perhaps, almost reminiscent of his home. The desk was of fine oak, and the chair, genuine leather. An old ceiling fan turned lazily overhead, and there was a water cooler in one corner. A favorite painting decorated one wall, while just opposite of it and behind the desk was a window with a blind. But despite the warden's attempts, the room carried a certain broken air about it. Sephiroth wondered if Dalton really spent much time in there at all, or if he conducted most of his work from his home.
The security room was the only one in the entire penitentiary with which the SOLDIERs were impressed. There were modern screens all across the top half of one wall, each one monitoring a different section. Below them was a long console, filled with various levers and switches. Two men were seated in front of it, and while one was turning dials and speaking with another guard over a communications system, the other had propped his feet on top of the device, staring lazily up at one of the screens.
"This is where the main controls for the drawbridge are," explained Dalton as he stepped just inside the doorway. "As you can see, this room is located as far away from the cellblock as possible, and in addition to the men who are always in here, there are also those on guard out in the hall. None of the inmates could possibly get in here, not unless they overpowered guards and took their weapons away from them. And even then, it would not be easy. All of the security task force possesses weapons as well."
"If you believe something is absolutely impossible, that's when it will happen all the more," Sephiroth pointed out in a flat tone.
Dalton crossed to one of the men, mentioning something in low tones about having the drawbridge lowered again. Then he turned, intending to leave the room. "So now we're waxing philosophical, are we?" he mused.
"It's a fact of life. You don't have to only be prepared for anything to happen. You have to expect anything and everything to happen." Sephiroth gave the console one last glance, as if memorizing the order of every switch and dial, before moving to follow. As usual, he did not wait to see if Zack was coming as well. Zack would be there.
"Quite pessimistic, aren't you," Dalton commented as he led them back to the front entrance.
If Zack had been in a better mood, he would have grinned and joked that he had always told "Seph" the same thing, and that he really did need to try to see life in a more positive light. But right now he did not want to say anything that sounded as if he was agreeing with their host, even if only in jest.
"I'm realistic," Sephiroth said then.
Dalton smirked. "Well, we can always use more realists." But the voice he used had a distinct mocking undercurrent.
Then, with his next words, it was gone again. "And now you have seen the prison," he proclaimed. "What do you think?"
Zack finally spoke. "I think it needs some serious improvements," he replied, and then rushed on before he could be stopped. "But that's not why we came." He crossed his arms, looking to Sephiroth and then back to the broad man in front of them. "We came to check into the rumors that there was an uprising here."
Sephiroth nodded. "If there is, you've done a good job of concealing it . . . though I see it would be impossible to hide your and others' contempt of Shinra." There had actually not seemed to be any logical place where weapons could be hidden in this locale, either---but that did not mean that Sephiroth believed that their mission was complete. Far from it. This was all a game to the warden. That was quite apparent. He knew that Sephiroth was aware of this, too. And Sephiroth would not cry defeat until they had won.
He said all of this in a message with his eyes. And Dalton received it just as plainly as if he had spoken aloud. He looked back for a long moment, not willing to be outdone by Shinra in even so much as a staring contest. And his firm gaze said without a doubt that he was ready and willing to combat SOLDIER in any way that he could. It also warned Sephiroth that his pride would be not only his downfall, but that of Zack's, as well. And the silver-haired man became certain that Dalton knew of the latenight exploits through his house.
As quickly as it had come, the mood was gone again, and Dalton walked to the open doorway. "What are your plans for the rest of the day, sir?" he asked amiably. "May I escort you and Mr. Fair somewhere?"
"No thank you." Sephiroth went past him and down the steps to the grounds. "I'm sure you're a busy man. Zack and I planned to scout around the immediate area today. Now would be a good time for it, while it's still morning." They had not actually discussed such plans in detail, but when they had been searching the attic, Zack had mentioned that perhaps they should go up on the golden plate---or as he called it, the "Gold Saucer." Maybe, he hoped, they would learn something useful there about Dalton. Sephiroth had thought it sounded like a logical plan. But of course Dalton could not know about it.
"True," the brown-haired man nodded now. "But since we had breakfast somewhat late, by now the noon hour is fast approaching." He watched as Zack hurried into the courtyard as well. "If you two want to explore alone, then I won't try to stop you. After all, I realize that some of your company business must be conducted in secret, without someone like me being in on it." He remained in the doorway, his arms crossed. "But I should warn you to hurry. The sky only grows more clouded, and there is a storm that's forecast."
Zack blinked. "Rainstorms must be pretty rare out here," he said.
"They are," Dalton admitted, "but not sandstorms. The wind starts up something vicious, and then sand swirls around stronger than many a blizzard. It's not something pleasant to get caught in."
By now Sephiroth was walking across the drawbridge. "We'll be careful," he said. Once he was on the other side, he stopped and waited for Zack.
"Feel free to use my car," Dalton called after them, and then re-entered the building as Zack also got off the drawbridge.
Zack shook his head, walking beside Sephiroth as the other headed with determination towards the driveway next door where the dark automobile was parked. "Are we going to go up on that Gold Saucer?" He had to admit, he was a bit curious about the thing, in addition to hoping that it could provide some answers. It was not the first such plate of its kind that had been built, but the SOLDIER had never before had the chance to see what one was like. It fascinated him, that it could be sturdy enough to hold all that it did and be perfectly stable.
Sephiroth nodded. "I'd rather not take the car, but I don't think he was lying about the possibility of a sandstorm. It would be foolish to attempt walking." He reached into his pocket, withdrawing and unfolding his cellphone. "First, though, we need to report back to headquarters."
Zack observed him, an increasing feeling of unease coming over him as Sephiroth frowned and glared suspiciously at the phone. "What is it?" the brunet asked.
In response, Sephiroth held out the device so that Zack could see the large writing proclaiming "NO SERVICE" that was flashing across the small screen.
"I thought you took that out last night and it was working fine then," Zack exclaimed.
"It was." Sephiroth closed it again, slipping it into his pocket. "And I don't trust the telephones in the house. They're probably tapped." Perhaps it was the oncoming storm that had caused his phone to temporarily give up the ghost. That would make sense, and that was probably what he would be told if asked, but somehow he did not believe it. More likely, communication with the outside world was simply being blocked. When they got to the plate, he would have to try again.
Zack was silent a moment. "What do you think of the prison, Seph?" he asked.
"The same as you, mostly," Sephiroth answered. "In a location such as this, the guard's actions don't really surprise me, though I'm still disgusted. And it's obvious that something needs to be done with the entire building, but Dalton's more interested in his home to care." As they arrived at Dalton's yard, he did not say more.
The chauffeur looked up as the duo approached. "Hello, sirs," he greeted in a hesitant tone. He was in the process of washing the car, and seemed to be almost done. With one hand, he ran a cloth over the glistening paint, while the other held a garden hose that was currently watering the driveway. "Can I help you?"
"We want to borrow the car for a few hours," Zack announced.
The man's eyes widened. "Oh . . . I couldn't allow that," he gasped.
"Your employer told us that we could make use of it," Sephiroth spoke, walking over to him, "but it would be more convenient if we could drive it ourselves."
"Look around you," Zack said with a gesture. "There's nowhere we could really go. We'd walk, only it sounds like we might get caught in a sandstorm."
"And have you ever driven in a sandstorm?" the chauffeur returned.
"We can manage," Sephiroth said.
"We'd have it back before night," Zack added.
The chauffeur was silent, seeming to be weighing all of the possibilities. But at last he nodded. Sephiroth had the feeling, however, that it was not because of them that he consented. Perhaps Dalton had said something to him the previous night. Or maybe even, Dalton was speaking to him now, through some kind of miniature transmitter in his ear. At any rate, as he slowly handed over the keys, he still looked reluctant. Maybe he was afraid they would ruin the vehicle. Or maybe it was something else. But it was too late to change his mind now.
He watched as the warriors climbed into the automobile. The silver-haired one had decided to drive, and within a moment, he had turned the key and revved the engine. Then they were disappearing into the distance, heading for the tents in the north.
As before, once they arrived in North Dismal, many unfriendly eyes peered out at them from the tent flaps. It was obvious that no answers would be gained by trying to speak to them, so Sephiroth did not even bother to attempt it. Instead, he parked the car as close to the cable car lift as he possibly could and then alighted the vehicle. Zack did the same, and soon they were on board the car, en route to the golden plate.
Zack watched out the window as they rose higher into the air. It seemed fascinating in a way, that such a system as this would really be able to work properly and that the cables would not break. But he could not focus on that for long. His mind continued to insist upon returning to the layout of the prison. It was too eerie, that it would be exactly as he had seen it in his dream. And after what he had witnessed, he could easily imagine the rest of the nightmare coming true as well---the blood, the bodies on the floor, and . . .
"Hey, Seph?"
Sephiroth glanced over, a questioning look in his eyes. "What is it?" he queried.
Zack ran a hand through his hair. "Remember when I wanted to know if you'd had any prophetic dreams?"
The green-eyed man nodded slowly, crossing his arms. He recalled quite well, and had been wondering if Zack would approach the subject again. In spite of his own odd dream, he supposed that he had been hoping that he would not have to be the one to mention it first. Now, he felt a certain relief that he would not have to and that Zack was apparently going to speak on his own experience.
"Well . . . something weird did happen to me last night, but I wanted to just brush it off." He looked into those sea green eyes seriously, for once all traces of mirth dispersed. "But now . . . I'm afraid I can't do that." Sephiroth was silent, raising an eyebrow as if to tell him to proceed.
And so Zack did, explaining of the layout in the prison room, how he had never seen it or anything like it before, and how it exactly matched that in his dream. Sephiroth listened, not giving any indication as to what he thought of it, though he did nod slowly and thoughtfully at one point. At last he spoke again.
"What did you see in this dream?" He knew it could not have been simply an empty room. Zack was much too troubled.
The brunet sighed, averting his gaze to look beyond Sephiroth at the desert canyons in the distance. "There was blood all over the walls and floor," he said slowly, "and bodies. . . . Some of the people were just hurt, but I think most of them were dead, killed in some battle. Then . . ." He shook his head helplessly. "It just went black. I couldn't see anything more, but I could hear. . . .
"The dream me was running into this place, I guess. I knew that he---me---I knew that I was injured too." He locked eyes with his friend. "I found you in there, Seph. . . . It sounded like . . . well, I couldn't seem to wake you up. I think in the dream, you were dead." Subconsciously he clenched a fist again. It could not happen. He could not let it! And yet, how could he stop death itself?
Sephiroth looked away, studying the view outside. It was a short ride, and now they were about to halt. He would not have time to speak of his own, strange dream, since there was not likely to be any privacy to speak of on the plate.
"What do you make of it, Seph?" Zack's voice was quiet, unsettled.
The older man shook his head. "I don't know," he said honestly. What could one think of a dream in which he appeared to not be among the living any longer? "I'm not dead yet." He glanced back over his shoulder at Zack. "All I can promise is that I'll be careful." And at least, if Zack's incubus was some kind of a warning, it could be kept in mind. But maybe, if it meant anything in the first place, it was trying to prepare Zack for something that definitely would happen and there would not be any way to prevent it. Of course, with his pessimistic nature, Sephiroth would have to examine such a possibility.
The car jumped slightly, then came to a complete stop. Immediately Sephiroth was up, heading out the doors with Zack right on his heels.
"There were people screaming 'Murderer' in my dream," he mused, just loud enough that the other could hear.
Zack blinked in surprise. Sephiroth had had a strange dream too? He chased after the silver-haired man as he stepped onto the saucer.
"When was this?" he demanded, grabbing his comrade's black-covered arm.
"This morning." Then Sephiroth did not say more, instead focusing his attention on the strange scene as he pondered what for them to do with it.
On one side was the amusement park, with all its irritating music and the shrieks and screams from people taking part in those rides that they oddly found so enjoyable. And even over all that noise, he could still hear people calling out from the midway, wanting the tourists to come to this booth or that and test their skills at various childish games that were probably fixed in the first place. He definitely hoped that they would not have to stop there.
On the other side, almost directly across, was a hotel. It stood several stories high, and from the top floors, it would probably be easy to see at least half of the park. It would also surely be possible to hear almost all of the racket. Sephiroth did not know how anyone could stand to board in such a place.
Past the hotel and up the street a ways, the casinos finally became visible. There were two on that side of the street, and on the other, next to the amusement park, was a third. Sephiroth decided they might as well try the first one they came to. And it would no doubt be wise to hurry. The sky had darkened even further in the last few minutes, and the wind was beginning to pick up.
"I wonder how long sandstorms here last," Zack mused as he quickly followed the other into the gambling establishment. It was possible that they would have to remain here for a while, should the weather abruptly change before they were ready to leave. But that could prove very inconvenient. Maybe the rebels below would take the opportunity to make final battle preparations, in the shelter of Dalton's home.
Sephiroth did not answer. Instead he took out his phone again, frowning as the screen still insistently informed him that there was no service here. Slipping it back into his pocket once more, he turned his attention to the scene around them.
It was vastly different from outside. The first thing he noticed was that the sounds from the amusement park were drowned out when the doors closed, as apparently the walls here were soundproof. Surely, the hotel must be that way as well, he decided. Otherwise, no one would be able to endure it.
It was a well-lit building, with soft, dark green carpet on the floor. (Probably, Sephiroth thought sarcastically, to remind people of money.) It seemed active, with several people at each of the various games. Across the room, someone whooped as they won at the slot machine, and someone cursed loudly as they lost at the craps table.
A flirtatious woman walked past the newcomers, winking at them seductively. Her hair was slightly curled and as jet black as Zack's. The tresses spilled over her bare shoulders and down her back to the beginning of her long, powder blue dress. A slight leer graced her red lips, as if she was certain that she would impress them and that they would follow her. Instead, Sephiroth regarded her boredly, while Zack smirked after her a bit. She was nice to look at, but not his type.
"Ah, gentlemen! Can I help you?"
Zack blinked, starting slightly at the friendly voice. Slowly he turned, finding himself face-to-face with an older, balding man. He was thin and short, with a pointed noise and eyes that seemed genuinely welcoming. He was wearing a rumpled, white dress shirt, open at the top and accompanied by a loosened tie. His black pants were likewise wrinkled, and from his pocket he absently withdrew a deck of cards as he spoke again.
"My name is Carter. I'm the owner of this casino." He looked amused by Zack's surprise. "And yes, boy, I know you're a SOLDIER," he said, and nodded to Sephiroth as well. "But up here, there's not much hatred of Shinra."
"And why is that?" Sephiroth asked warily.
The middle-aged man chuckled. "Why, because if it hadn't been for Shinra, this saucer wouldn't have been built, and I wouldn't be making all this money!" He replaced the deck in his pocket and walked forward, gesturing for them to follow. "Most of us up here all feel the same. Shinra did us a favor!"
"Well . . ." Zack grinned weakly, getting over the initial shock. "It's good to know not everybody's out for our blood." It was especially refreshing after the encounter with Rakesh, and his ominous, parting words.
Carter chuckled, opening the door to his office. "Come in, come in!" He strode to his desk, plopping into the chair behind it and watching as Sephiroth and Zack slowly followed. "Sit down!" He gestured to the chairs at the back of the room.
Sephiroth complied, still feeling somewhat cautious. After all, this could so easily be another act, even though Carter seemed sincere enough. He picked a chair and pulled it out to be directly in front of the desk. Zack did likewise, and then reached over to shut the door before sitting.
The older man leaned forward on the desk, lacing his fingers. "Now, what is it you came here for?" he asked pleasantly. "Of course, we'd heard that Shinra was sending a couple of SOLDIERs to investigate the village below, and I wondered if you would find your way up here."
Zack glanced at Sephiroth, as if searching for the signal that it was alright for him to proceed. Then he looked back to their host. "Actually," he began, "we were hoping to find out something about the mayor, Dalton. He said that his whole house was built thanks to money he won at the casinos."
"Really?" Carter smirked. "Well, if that's true, it would certainly be a compliment, and a testament to what can be accomplished here."
"'If it's true'?" Sephiroth repeated in a pointed tone.
Carter shrugged. "Well, it certainly could be," he said. "He comes up here to gamble a lot, and usually he's at this establishment as opposed to my competitors'." He paused thoughtfully. "Though, where would he get the money to be able to gamble? It is a mystery."
"Has he ever tried to collect people here to follow him in a possible uprising against Shinra?" Sephiroth wanted to know.
"Here?" Carter chuckled. "I think he would know it would be pointless. We're not fighters."
Sephiroth was not deterred. "Money can be a powerful motivator. He may have tried bribing the people here who are losing their fortunes instead of gaining them."
The owner nodded slowly. "True, very true," he agreed. "I suppose it's possible that he approached some people with the promise of being paid well if they complied. But if so, he hasn't come to me. Maybe he recognizes that I wouldn't be any use in a battle!" He smirked a bit, as if finding this jest quite amusing.
Zack watched him. "So . . . you haven't heard anyone say anything, like Dalton offered them money and they took it?" he inquired hesitantly. Despite his professed affection for Shinra, Carter might not want to betray people he worked with, or who were frequent patrons of the casinos. But the brunet still felt that it needed to be asked.
Carter paused, frowning slightly in concentration. "Well . . . I do remember hearing something strange about what was going on in the village," he answered at last, turning his gaze back to his visitors. "Someone said that some unmarked crates had been delivered to Dismal on the train last week, and he wondered if they might contain illegal weapons. But I didn't pay much attention to that, since I was busy with things here and all. But if it is true, it sounds like it could be evidence that they're planning something. I don't know where they'd be storing so many crates, though."
A knock abruptly sounded on the door, and all looked over at it. "Come in," Carter called.
It opened slightly, and a young man with shaggy blond hair peered in. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I'd heard there were guests and I thought they needed to know. . . ." He glanced to the SOLDIERs, opening the door further as he walked inside.
"Is it about the weather?" Carter said easily, at the same moment that the wind could be heard howling past his office.
"Yep." The employee looked to Sephiroth and Zack again. "They're going to be shutting down the cable car within the next twenty minutes. The wind's really starting to blow something fierce out there, and of course it can't be running under those conditions. So . . ." He shifted. "Unless you guys want to stay up here a while, you probably should leave now."
Sephiroth was already standing. They could not afford to become stranded. "How long do these storms usually last?" he asked.
"Oh . . . it's hardly ever the same, really," said the boy. "Sometimes they're only a few minutes. But they can last for hours. And this one's been forecast for a while now as being pretty serious."
Sephiroth nodded slowly. "Are communications down because of it?" he asked.
The boy blinked. "Well, probably. I don't know. I haven't tried to use the phone. Why?"
"Mine doesn't work," Sephiroth said flatly.
"I guess so, then," shrugged the blond.
Zack leaped up now as well. "Thanks for your help, Mr. Carter," he said, holding out his hand. "I guess we'd better run."
Carter shook it firmly, and Sephiroth's as well. "Just let me know if there's anything else you want to know," he told them. "And yes, you'd better hurry! They may shut down the cable car even sooner, if things get steadily worse."
Sephiroth quite agreed. He nodded to Carter and swept past his young employee, walking with determination towards the front doors. Zack rushed to catch up, and as they arrived outside, a burst of wind nearly swept him off his feet. He gasped in shock, crashing forward into Sephiroth.
"Oh wow," he exclaimed, his hair blowing wildly and viciously into his eyes and whipping against his face. Papers and bags were blowing everywhere, and the sky was completely dark, almost as if it was night. He could barely see Sephiroth as the other began to run to where the cable car lift was located. Struggling to shield his eyes, the raven-haired man again chased after him. They would be lucky to be able to get down during this.
By some miracle, the transport was still operational---but as it was, they barely made it there in time. The person manning the lift was reluctant to let them on at all, but Sephiroth convinced him that it would be alright and that they needed to get back down immediately. Overall, the ride was bumpy, dizzying, and downright nauseating, as the cable car was harshly attacked by the wind from all sides. But somehow, it reached the ground safely, and the two SOLDIERs stumbled out.
Immediately Sephiroth ran to the car, still shielding his eyes. The sand had already begun to swirl, and he growled low as he unlocked the vehicle and threw himself inside. If this kept up, it was going to be very difficult to drive.
As soon as Zack was also inside, Sephiroth revved the engine and sped over the desert, switching on the headlights. Zack leaned over, flipping the switch for the windshield wipers as well, and then squinted through the glass. As they got farther away from the tents, he was almost certain that he could see something laying on the sands, something that had definitely not been there earlier. Something . . . no . . . not something. . . .
"Seph! Stop!" he yelped.
The silver-haired man slammed on the brakes, hearing the alarm in Zack's voice. "What is it?" he demanded, but the other was already undoing his seatbelt and flying out of the automobile. Then Sephiroth saw what Zack had seen. Narrowing his eyes, he started to get out of the car as well.
He started to walk forward, still attempting to avoid getting the flying obstacles in his eyes. "Zack?" he called. The other was kneeling down next to what was clearly a very bloodied body, and as Sephiroth drew closer, his expression changed to shock as he saw what looked like the missing brick clutched in the form's hand. What on Gaia was it doing there? How had this person gotten hold of it?
A flash of his dream returned. Villagers with bricks. . . .
Now Zack was leaning forward, gripping the man's shoulder. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "Are you okay?" The other person was laying on his side, and when he made no response, the brunet carefully turned the form into a supine position. Then he gasped in horror at what became revealed. Slowly he reached over, pulling a knife out of the chest. "He's . . . he's been murdered," he exclaimed. Who would have done it? One of the other villagers? Had a prisoner escaped? It did not make sense!
He looked up sharply, but could see nothing through the swirling sands. Wait . . . there were lights approaching, lights from every direction, and faint yelling could be heard. . . . A chill went up Zack's spine.
An overwhelming feeling of urgency suddenly swept over his companion. "Put down that knife!" Sephiroth ordered.
But it would not have made any difference. Now it was clear that the lights were torches, coming towards them from all sides, and the vague voices carried on the wind became louder.
"Come and see!" screamed what sounded like Dalton. "Come and see what the Shinra dogs have done!"
A resounding, furious, hateful reply came from the villagers. "Murderer! Murderer!"
And Sephiroth's dream rushed back to him in full force.