Disclaimer: We do not own any of these characters. Snake (and all MGS characters) belong to Hideo Kojima, and Luis (and all RE characters) belong to Capcom.

Chapter 2: Thar She Blows!

"Keep going, Snake! Faster! FASTER! That's it!" Luis called, feeling the adrenaline pumping inside him with an intensity he had not felt since…

…No. He mustn't think of that…

He held the rope tightly and watched as Snake, Solid Snake, who was still solid at the time, as he yanked the rope with the calloused grip of a soldier. The struggling figure grunted as he climbed, and Luis felt the rope begin to slip. He was going to lose it if he didn't calm down and focus! Luckily for him, Snake had reached the apex of his ascent. He climbed onto the landing and sprawled out with a cathartic groan. His muscles were tight and stinging with deep, penetrating pain. Luis wiped away the sweat he had felt collecting shamelessly on his forehead.

Snake gathered his strength and stood up, moaning all the way. After reaching around his belt and finding that his gear had not been damaged during the struggle, the soldier (who, by some freakish miracle, was still solid) looked below to find the undead mob still clamoring for flesh, and he couldn't help but sympathize with them.

"Poor bastards." He muttered through clenched teeth. Luis whirled around.

"Poor bastards!?" He bellowed. "They were trying to split you in two! And they could have, you ungrateful little bitch!" He indicated the mob with a slight jutting of the hip (on which his hand was firmly and sassily placed). "Look at the size of that pickaxe! One good thrust and it-"

"Look at it, stranger. Take a good look down there." Snake eyed the moaning mass of bodies and remembered to breathe while he could. He turned to face Luis, whose eyes had strayed downward, but were curiously focused in Snake's direction. "It's just miserable," Snake continued, "existing with only one thing on your mind: eating all the meat you can find and not stopping till you explode all over the pl-"

"BUH LOOK OUT!" Snake felt the weight of Luis' body as it tackled him to the ground. Slightly overhead he heard the shrill whisper of a fired arrow, and caught a glimpse of its powerful wooden shaft and flaming tip as it narrowly missed piercing his ear canal (which he'd had some experience with in the past, but couldn't remember enough of the occasion to explain just why this was so). Luis was dead weight over Snake's body. He lay there on top of Snake for a moment before sitting up, prompting Snake to do the same.

"Fuckers… have… fire arrows." Luis panted.

"I saw. I nearly took it in the face."

Luis stood on his haunches, remembering to stay low, like he always did at times like this. "We have to go. Now." He stammered.

"Where?"

"I have a plan. I know the terrain very well. I have a fox hole that nobody uses."

"Where?"

"A ways south of here, if you're up for a rough ride."

Snake pressed a tense pointer finger across Luis' lips, urging him to hush.

"Shut up and take me." He growled.

Several more arrows flew overhead, which reminded Snake that he would also have to get low if he wanted to get anywhere else. Luis' mind was still on what Snake had just said to him. His passionate, anonymously Latino gaze hardened into a glare that dug right into Snake.

"Hey, you ingrate. I just saved your life."

"I've been pulled out of ruts by all kinds of people, Jojé. Don't let it go to your head."

"Why try? We all know it's going there anyway." Luis smirked just then because it seemed like the right thing to do and looked over his shoulder. Snake's eyes followed the gesture. Curiously, it was the first time in the whole ordeal that either one of them had acknowledged that the wall was a mere five feet in width and that it happened to be overlooking a rocky cove on the island's edge. It was also the first time either one had acknowledged that it was raining. And that it was nighttime. And that they were on an island.

New key elements to the affective dictation of setting duly noted, Snake and the Latin Firecracker (as Snake would refer to him in his inner monologue until he learned the stranger's name, and well after) geared up to work their way into Luis' hidey hole. Luis duck-walked (cool, huh!?) to the wall's edge and peered over the side. Snake was right behind him, as he would get very used to being later on.

"Take a look."

Snake stroked his stubbled chin and did as he was told. At first, he saw nothing but a dark pit. He made out waves fiercely crashing as a thick, white, salty foam into the unyielding wall. After his eyes got suited to the dark, he saw a tiny vessel being tossed to and fro in the violent but steady rhythm of the tide (which happened to be low at the time, thereby triggering some unpleasant memories for Snake about his ex-girlfriend Allie).

What a crazy whore.

Snapping out of the nightmare that was a week ago, Snake realized that he was not at all pleased with what he saw. "I'm going to be riding that?

"Take it or leave it."
"It's so tiny!"

"It's not the size of the boat." Luis put his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, but look at the motion of the ocean! It'll capsize for sure!"

Fed up with Snake's pessimism (his very sexy pessimism), Luis decided to start easing his way down the wall, which should be noted as still being very hard and erect. Once again, Snake was taken aback by Luis' derring-do, and cried out.

"Hey! Don't you want to hang on to a rope or something?" He examined Luis' thick, brown rope. It looked like it could take a few more good yanks before it snapped. He twisted a section of it in his hands and scowled; none of this was having any effect on Luis, who was already well on his way down to his tiny ship.

After a long, abrasive climb, the pair slid down onto an overhanging slab of rock poking out teasingly from the rock face. They had to; the wall was becoming concave where the surging sea had pounded and eroded it. The boat bobbed some thirty feet below, by Snake's estimate (he was a great judge of length, and how to handle it). They would have to jump. Luis prayed he would still be able to land it like he was able to as a younger boy.

A young, frightened boy desperate for cash… Anything for a peso…-

NO!

Snake had been trained to brace himself for impact by tightening his thigh and buttock muscles and biting down hard, which would minimize tissue damage.

"Otherwise," he cautioned, "you won't be able to sit for weeks."

Luis winced. "I've been around the block enough times to know that, Snake."

After a very tense count to three, the duo leapt from the cliff's edge. Both felt rain and mist screaming past their ears before they crashed through a thick canvas canopy. The fall was broken with a thick smack into something soft and slimy. After a moment, Snake came (to his senses) and realized he had been swallowed by the gooey mass. It stunk like death. He thought of Allie. He jerked at the memory and sat bolt-upright, wanting to see what could possibly be so vile as to-

"FISH!" He cried. He was sitting in a gigantic crate of it.

"Tuna." Luis clarified, scraping some goo that was dangling from his ear and chin.

"You never said anything about me having to ride a tuna boat!"

Luis huffed and paid no mind. There was an objective at hand here. He had to get Snake to trust him until he reached the dark, narrow destination. He lifted the anchor and went to sit at the front of the boat. He slid the key, slick with engine grease, into the ignition. He twisted it. The motor groaned. He started to smile, but remembered Snake behind him. He wondered how long he would be able to keep it up. He steered the ship quietly out of the cove…