: Chapter Six : Know Thy Friend, Know Thy Enemy
It was acold and foreboding steel lift that led the five of them 'down below'. The leering Shinra guards trussed them to curious clamp-like apparatuses on the walls of the lift, amid well-placed kicks and insults. One of them bound Aerith's wrists so tightly behind her back that it caused her tocry out loud in pain.
"Hey!" Cloud wrestled savagely with the agonising metal clamps. "Leave her alone!"
The guards only sniggered. Fastening Aerith's hands back even tighter, one of them slammed Cloud's stomach with the butt of his rifle.Cloud slumped forward in agony, sputtering and cursing under his breath at his captors. After this, no one else dared to speak. The guards, however, took every opportunity to inundate them with abuse, both verbal and physical. The only person they left well alone was Red, who they obviously suspected would attack them if provoked.
It was a long way to get 'down below'. Cloud's body began to ache from the awkward position of being tied up to the wall. His shoulders and upper arms were sore, and all about his middle lingered a dull throb. He did not even risk looking up at the others. Even looks or gestures of encouragement would ensure a pummelling from the guards.
Eventually, the elevator settled at the bottom with a convulsion that made Cloud's stomach turn. The stout steel doors slithered open, and the metal clamps opened automatically. The prisoners fell forward at the unexpected movement, rubbing their tender wrists painfully. The guards thrust them out of the lift gruffly. They all landed on a dry, rocky ground that scorched their faces with an unbearable heat.
"Go and serve your punishments in the wilderness!" the guards jeered, and they disappeared back into the elevator, snickering at the wretched captives on the ground. Cloud raised his head slowly as he heard the lift slide out of sight, but all he could see before him was the same rocky, dusty plain of ochre-tinted landscape. Groaning, he pulled himself up off the ground and clutched his aching stomach. The others tottered up from the floor also, and Tifa put her hand to Cloud's abdomen in concern.
"Does it hurt bad?" she asked softly.
"It's not that bad. I'll be all right...Where are we?"
They looked around.
It appeared that they were at the base of the Gold Saucer. That majestic building was next to them - but at the bottom of the gilt structure was just plain, heavy metal, dull and dirty. Surrounding them was a wasteland of desert that did indeed stretch on forever. However, an enclosure of electric wire travelled right round the Gold Saucer, penning them in like caged animals. Several corrugated metal and rotting wooden houses stood in irregular positions all around the enclosure. Around the houses wandered hardened criminals, their skins tanned chocolate in the burning sun. They stared at the newcomers with a sort of empty dislike etched on to their faces.
"It's no Costa del Sol, that's for sure," Tifa lamented under her breath, taking in the expanse of burning sand and rock with intense disfavour.
"This is Corel Prison," Cait Sith informed them morosely. "The best prison on this Planet, I'd say. It's surrounded by quicksand so no one can escape. And no one has ever escaped." He paused a moment. "The boss of this place is really weird. He came from the town of Corel one day demanding to be in charge. Must have been real desperate to get a job. I mean, who'd want to work in this dump?"
Cloud was about to ask who this supposed person was when off in the distance he noticed Barret's hulking figure stoopedover the body of man.
"Look!" Cloud gasped. "It's Barret!"
The others put their hands to their foreheads in astonishment. Cait Sith shuddered.
"Is that your friend? He looks dangerous."
"What is he doing to that man?" Red asked.
"Let's find out."
Cloud walked warily over to Barret, followed by the others. As they approached, Barret noticed them. Startled, he stood up, away from the man. Not to his surprise, Cloud saw that it was plain that the man was dead - from a gunshot wound to his chest. He stared up at Barret sternly.
"Barret, did you do this?"
Barret gazed back at him furiously, his eyes on fire in the flaming sun.
"Why'd ya follow me? I don't want none of you to get involved. This is something I gotta deal with by myself. So jus' leave me alone!"
"But Barret!" Cloud called, "if you did this, we can't have you killing people anymore! I understand you're hurt, but we're here to help you...!"
"Shut up!" Barret interrupted fiercely, sudden extreme grief spilling over his brutal features. "I told you, jus' leave me alone!"
He stomped off violently, disappearing out of sight between two decrepit houses.
"I don't like the look of him," Cait Sith saidin an undertone."He sure looks capable of gunning down people!"
"No." Tifa shook her head thoughtfully. "It's not like him at all. I don't understand what's going on."
"Neither do I," Cloud agreed. "But right now, our priority is finding a way to escape."
They wandered the prison aimlessly. The other inmates glared at them through tortured eyes, while others simply trailed the five all the way round the enclosure, having nothing better to do. It was a terrible place - most of the paint and metal had begun to peel and buckle in the sun, and the wooden structures were rotting. In a corner of the prison, an instructor was barking orders to captives in a physical training session. The worst thing about the whole prison was that there seemed to be nothing for the inmates to do. Most of them had lived for years in the neglected houses and they could be picked out by the way they talked to themselves constantly in a funny, rabbity tone of voice. They'd spent so long by themselves, without anything to occupy their time that they had ended up being driven insane. One of the convicts who still had his wits about him, seeing the outsiders, threw them a sympathetic look.
"Whatever you do," he advised them in a wearied voice, "don't ever ask anyone in this place what they think about it. They'll just tell you lies."
Taken aback at this strange warning, the five walked past dumbly. The man's words, however, proved to be correct. Some of the prisoners had reverted to pathological lying, falsifying every single little detail they talked about to each other. Indeed, it seemed to be one of Corel Prison's most popular pastimes.
At one end of the enclosure was a rusty camping van. At its doors stood two beat-up men who looked like makeshift sentries.
"Looks like someone pretty important is inside," Cloud said to himself. "Maybe we should look inside."
"It's worth a try," Red agreed.
Satisfied, Cloud led them into the camping van. The sentries said nothing. In fact, as Cloud passed, it seemed to him that they were sleeping in the blazing afternoon sun.
Inside the van was a slimy-looking man sitting on a back seat with his feet up, a glass of some sort of cocktail in his hand. He was wearing a grey, frayed suit and darkened glasses. It was obvious, at a first glance, that he was a prisoner who'd been given certain privileges. As he noticed the visitors, he stood up, grinning.
"Ah! The newcomers! Coates is the name, and I'm here to always give help to the prisoners! So what can I do for you? Sort out a bully? Sort out accommodation? Counselling...?"
His voice, like his features, was overtly smarmy. Cloud decided that the best thing was to be direct with him.
"We want to get out of here."
For a moment, Mr. Coates looked noticeably amazed and confounded. Then he gave a nervous little laugh.
"Well, there's nothing I can do to help you there...You'd have to ask the boss about that one."
"And who might the boss be?"
Mr. Coates looked surprised.
"You don't know who the boss is? Geez, everyone knows who he is. That's Mr. Dyne."
Cloud dropped his jaw in utter astonishment.
"Dyne! But he's dead!"
Mr. Coates scratched his head.
"Is he? I saw him this morning and he seemed fine to me. Maybe a bit pissed though..."
Cloud looked back at the others.
"Something weird's going on here. We've got to find Barret."
Running out of the van and leaving the flabbergasted Mr. Coates behind, the five rushed back to the spot where they'd seen Barret. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. They next decided to search the decaying houses, but got nowhere at all. Cait Sith stopped them in the middle of a search of one of the houses.
"Wait a minute! Wait a minute!"
Everyone stopped dazedly and stared at him. The cat drew in a deep breath.
"Okay, I know it's very important you look for this Barret. But would somebody please tell me what's going on!"
Cloud, realising that Cait Sith knew nothing of Barret, withdrew himself from the next room he'd been looking into, and sighed.
"Well, it's a bit hard to explain in one go."
"So?" Cait Sith probed. "I have time, and this is all sounding very strange to me."
"Look," Cloud began, "basically, Barret had this friend years ago, called Dyne."
"Oh!" Cait Sith began to grin. "And you're tryin' to find him so that he can bribe this Dyne into getting us out?"
Cloud shook his head impatiently.
"No, no!" He breathed in slowly, then began again. "Barret told us Dyne was dead. But he isn't. We want to find out why he lied."
Before Cait Sith could say anything, the door to the room was flung open and in came Barret himself. Cloud gasped.
"Barret! You're here!"
Barret said not a word and raised his gun arm toward the group. Aerith cried out in terror.
"Barret! Don't!"
He began to fire. Closing their eyes, everyone prepared themselves as best they could. Cloud had no time to think or even to pray. The bullets raged on and on for a minute or so, then stopped abruptly. Cloud opened his eyes in confusion. He wasn't dead! He was still alive! And the others? Looking round, he saw they were all alive too. So what...? There was a rustling sound behind a nearby ragged settee to the rear of the group. Everyone whirled round in surprise. A man fell from behind it - it was he whom Barret had shot.
Cloud looked at the angryolder man in mystification.
"Barret? Why...?"
Barret lowered his gun-arm and snapped at him.
"Why'd you come after me! I told you not to! These spies are everywhere! If they hear about me, do you realise the trouble I'll get into!"
"But...I don't understand."
"Yeah, right," Barret retorted bitterly. "You never do."
"Barret," Tifa interrupted. "Did you kill all those men?"
He shook his head adamantly.
"No! I'd never do such a thing!"
"Then who would?"
Barret fell silent, then he spoke again, his voice low.
"There was another man who had the same operation as me on his left arm four years ago. It was him that did it."
"Dyne?" Cloud put in. Barret stared at him in surprise, then nodded.
"Yeah. Dyne." He sighed. "God. Looks like I've got some explaining to do."
Red nodded.
"I think I agree with you on that one."
Barret, sighing heavily a second time, sat down on the settee and looked up at them all.
"It was on that day four years ago. The day of the fire..."
-oOo-
That morning, Dyne and I had been informed of the small fire in the Mount Corel Mako Reactor. We had been instructed to go down to the scene of the blaze immediately. I'd been having my breakfast when I'd received the news. My wife, Myrna, was dubious about letting me go down.
"Stay here and finish your breakfast, Barret," she begged me. "Don't go up there this morning."
"But darlin', I've got a direct order from the Shinra," I reasoned. "I can't keep them waiting, can I."
"But...I just feel..."
"Woman's intuition, right?" I joked, kissing her on the cheek. "Don't worry darlin', Dyne and I'll take care of everythin'."
I'll never forget Myrna's face as I left. She looked so vulnerable somehow, insecure. Every single day after that, the image of her face haunted me. Even now it does. I keep on thinking: Maybe she'd known...
Dyne and I travelled over the mountain and up to the Mako Reactor. It had only been a small fire, in the Reactor's computer system. It was in a bad way, but the technicians assured us that it would be fixed in a couple of days. Satisfied that our job had been well done, Dyne and I began the journey back toward Corel. As we were walking back across the railway tracks, one of the elders of our village, Hiram, came running toward us over the horizon. He must have been nearly a hundred - I'd never seen Old Hiram run like that before in my life. Seeing something was wrong, we ran up to meet him. The poor old guy was out of breath, and panic was etched on his craggy face.
"Hiram, what's wrong?" I asked urgently, as Dyne helped the panting man to regulate his breathing.
"It's the village..." Hiram replied, hardly able to breathe, "...The Shinra came...they set fire to it!"
At first it was all too hard to take in. Dyne and I stared at each other in horror, unable to believe what we'd just heard. Hiram, seeing our bewilderment, pointed over the mountain in the direction of Corel.
"Look...over there!"
Dyne and I jumped down from the aqueduct that the tracks were built over. Rushing over to the edge of the mountain, we looked out over the rich, green forests in which Corel lay. It seemed as if the whole wood were on fire. A huge tongue of flames was consuming our village, filling the crystal clear blue sky with a cloud of dense black smoke. In the space of time in which I witnessed that scene, I felt as if my whole world were falling apart. I let out a cry of pain into the air - a cry of hatred. At that very moment, I loathed the Shinra with all my heart.
Dyne laid a hand on my shoulder.
"Barret, Barret, don't worry! Myrna, Eleanor, Marlene...they'll be fine, we'll get them out if we hurry!"
That was so much like Dyne - always so reassuring, even to the last. But I was so infuriated I would not listen to him.
"Dyne, don't you understand! They've burnt our village! Everyone will be dead!"
Dyne would have continued, but we heard Hiram suddenly calling to us. Looking up in his direction, we saw that a pack of Shinra soldiers were running toward the old man over the aqueduct. Hiram began to limp toward us.
"Barret, Dyne, we've got to save the...!"
The soldiers did not allow him to finish his sentence. They pulled their triggers on him, callously shooting our elder in the back with a spray of bullets. Hiram fell down like a fly, not even making a sound as he died.
"Hiram!"
That was it: the final straw. I was consumed with a violent urge to kill every single one of those men up on that aqueduct the way they'd killed my friends and family. Unfortunately, they had noticed Dyne and I, and were now pointing their rifles at us.
"Barret, run!" Dyne beckoned to me from under the aqueduct. I ran up beside him, the soldier's bullets riddling the floor behind me. As I got there, we both realised that we couldn't stay in that position; the soldiers would definitely throw down a grenade on top of our heads. Dyne and I decided to run on back in the direction of Corel. We dashed for it, quite successfully, as the soldiers were not such good shots. But as we were passing across the ridge of the mountain, another person joined them on the aqueduct. It was Scarlet.
"You fools!" she was screaming at them. "You're letting them get away! Give that rifle to me!"
After that we didn't stand a chance. Scarlet was far better with a gun than her highly trained soldiers. Cutting our path off, she blew a ledge of rock right off the mountain. Dyne was not fast enough to jump over it. He fell down the gorge and, I really can't remember how, I just about managed to grab a hold on to him.
"Dyne, hang on!" I called. "I'm going to get you up!"
Dyne stared up at me, resignation glazing his face.
"No, Barret, it's all over. Take care of Eleanor and Marlene for me."
I shook my head with determination.
"Lissen, Dyne! We've got to do this together and save Corel. We're best mates, right! Now I'm getting you up!"
Hope filled his face.
"Yeah! Yeah, Barret, we're gonna save Corel together!"
I began to heave him up, but it was not to be. Scarlet, rather than see us die, left me with a torment that would never leave me. Aiming her gun, she fired several rounds. They struck straight through the hand that held Dyne and at the same time pierced his own hand. The pain was torturous. I could hold him up no longer.
Letting my torn fingers unfold, I watched Dyne fall, hurtle down into the dark depths of the chasm.
-oOo-
Barret bowed his head, clenching his left fist tightly.
"I swore revenge for Corel and I got this gun grafted on to my arm. It was atonement, atonement for the last betrayal on Dyne. I thought he was dead." He glanced up at Cloud. "But he isn't. I was in the Battle Square in the Gold Saucer, when I actually saw him - my best friend - come in and murder all those people! I followed him down here...and then you lot came."
Cloud crossed his arms pensively.
"So Dyne's still alive."
"Yes." Barret replied. "And I've got to know what's got into him. That and..." he hung his head, "...apologising. For what I did four years ago."
"Then you can be sure," Cloud guaranteed him, "that we'll come with you. Just in case you need helping out."
Barret shook his head.
"I know what you're thinkin' - that Dyne's out of control and he might get violent." He sighed "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt I you helped me find him..."
"Of course!" Tifa interjected "We're right behind you Barret!"
Barret stood up straight.
"All right! Let's go find Dyne!"
They asked possibly every inmate of Corel Prison where Dyne was and got various conflicting answers, proving once again that the captives did lie about almost everything. Eventually, though, they were directed to the prison's rubbish tip.
"For some reason, Dyne always goes there," was the knowing remark of the grizzled informant.
It took several minutes to find the rubbish tip. It was situated on the top of a small, desert cliff, where a valley suddenly dipped down further into the heat of the barren wilderness. The evening had begun to drag on, and the blazing sun had been replaced by howling winds. Gloomy, rotting piles of refuse created large menacing mazes that threaded in and out of each other. They were about to give up, when suddenly they turned an unexpected corner. This led to a small clearing in the mountains of trash. The edge of the cliff jutted out like a sort of platform, leaving the desert landscape in full view, ceaseless and arid. At the rim of the cliff stood two broken wooden crosses driven crookedly into the ground.
And by the crosses, looking out on to the deserts, stood the broken body of a broken man.
Barret stumbled forward.
"Dyne!"
The man started like he'd been shot.
"That voice," he said quietly, not turning round. "It's a voice I remember so well." He paused momentarily, letting the moment sink in "Barret, it's you."
The man turned round then, slowly. He had a powerful figure, but his unshaven face was filled with deep gorges and ridges. Instead of his left hand was a machine gun, just like Barret's.
"Dyne!" Barret began to walk over to him, but Dyne stopped him quickly.
"No! Don't come near me!"
Barret halted, surprised and confused. Dyne seemed angered for a moment, then he stared at him curiously for a short time. He began to walk painstakingly toward Barret, dragging his evidently injured left foot behind him.
"I can hear..." he almost whispered, drawing closer to Barret and then stopping, "...I can hear her voice...Eleanor's voice..." His face twisted in pain. "She's telling me...not to hate your rotten guts."
Barret gazed at him in guilt, realising that Dyne was not about to accept any apologies he may have prepared.
"Dyne, don't say that. Look, I'm sorry. It's long overdue, I know. I messed up everything with that Mako Reactor business. I'm sorry."
Dyne shook his head, loathing on his face.
"What good is that gonna do? Do you know something Barret? I wanted to destroy everything when Corel went down. I still do." He aimed his gun to his left, let out a shot making everyone jump. "This Prison." He shot to his right. "You, Barret." He stopped, turned the gun to the floor at Barret's feet, let out three ringing blasts. "Myself!"
He stopped again and began to walk away, to the edge of the cliff. "You know, you destroyed everything Barret. Eleanor and Marlene - they both died because of you."
Barret spoke to him softly.
"Dyne...Marlene is alive."
There was wild astonishment on Dyne's face as he turned.
"Marlene...alive?"
Barret nodded encouragingly.
"Yes. I rescued her from the flames that day. I took her to Midgar and took care of her. She's all grown up now."
Dyne's face changed again. He looked close to tears.
"What...what does she look like?"
"Exactly like Eleanor," Barret replied with a mixture of pride and sorrow.
Dyne said nothing and looked down at the ground. Barret spoke up to him.
"Dyne, come back with me and see her. Don't you think Marlene would want to see you again? You're her real papa."
For a moment, unrestrained hope crossed the other man's face; then he seemed to become angry again.
"No, Barret, it's no good." His eyes glinted as he looked up. "Marlene wouldn't even know me. How old was she when I left? She was just a baby!"
"Dyne..." Barret began to walk over to him, but Dyne held out his gun toward him.
"No! Just stand back Barret!" Anguish filled his face. "For so many years now I've wanted revenge for this pain! So many years I've been tormented with this nothingness! While you ran away with my daughter, I was left here in this god-forsaken dump! You lived life just as normal: set up a home, made new friends, found yourself a fresh existence! And what was I left with!" He was trembling in violent hatred as he clutched his outstretched arm. "I'm going to kill you, Barret! I'm going to finish this now, after all those long years of waiting!"
Everyone stood stock-still. Barret remained like a statue, unable to move, petrified. Dyne stood like a ferocious and angry sculpture, arm drawn out, trembling, ready to fire. The fear and loathing hung in the air, the persistent caterwauling of the evening wind brewing it up like a cauldron. Then, abruptly, something in Dyne's face changed. Bitter remorse flowed into it, and tears suddenly poured down his cheeks. He broke down completely and lowered his arm.
"I can't do it!" he choked. "I can't do it!"
Barret let out a tight breath, distressed at his friend's anguish.
"Dyne, you can't torment yourself like this!"
He moved forward again, but Dyne shook his head bitterly.
"Stay back!" he gasped. "Stay back!"
Barret, realising that his life was hanging in the balance here, stopped. Presently, Dyne recovered himself and limped off to the edge of the cliff and leaned on the nearest cross. After a thoughtful pause, he spoke to Barret.
"Barret, I'm sorry too, man."
Barret looked up at him, tears springing to his eyes.
"God, Dyne, you know I'm sorry too, I've always been sorry."
Dyne looked away, a dreamy look on his face. It was as though he hadn't heard Barret at all.
"You know, Barret," he began finally, gently. "I didn't only lose my hand that day. I lost something else. Something irreplaceable. That's why, afterwards, I wanted to destroy everything, even the Planet. But the world was dead for me anyway. It wouldn't even have mattered."
Barret spoke softly to him, hopefully.
"But now you can find something that matters." He lifted his voice eagerly. "Let's go back, Dyne. Let's go and see Marlene together."
Dyne hung his head and then put his hand to a necklace round his neck. Undoing the catch, he threw it to Barret, who caught it.
"It was Eleanor's," Dyne explained sorrowfully. "I want you to give it to Marlene, Barret."
Barret looked down at the shining silver pendant.
"But..."
"Barret," Dyne's voice was unusually gentle. "Tell Marlene 'bout her old dad sometime, will you? Tell her, I'm sorry I couldn't see her." He walked to the edge of the cliff. "Besides...my hands are a little too stained to hold her now." He glanced up at Barret "Bye, Barret. It's over."
Turning, he walked forward, no pain, no regret on his face. Now there was just peace.
Barret ran forward, fear, agony welling up within him.
"Dyne, no!"
But Dyne had gone, off the edge of the cliff, down into the depths of the craggy desert below. Barret stumbled forward, fell on to his hands and knees, tears streaming down his face. Opening his mouth, he let outone ringing, poignant cry.
"NO!"
The single word echoed out over the endless, deathly wilderness, resounding over and over as if it would not go away. Everyone hung their heads in silent remorse. Cloud, looking up, mournfully made his way toward the bent figure, tried to help him up.
"Barret..."
Barret turned round, placed his hands on Cloud's shoulders and spoke, his voice, face - both of them pleading desperately.
"My hands are no less stained than his were, Cloud!" he wailed, tears flooding over his roughened face, as he clung to the other with unrestrained grief. "They're no less stained than his were!"
-oOo-
Next: A run-in with the Turks...