Live to Run
by Genesis R
Chapter 2
A fortnight later saw them a long way from the coast, somewhere between Junon and the Mythril Mines. The army still dogged them, but at a more respectful distance, as if now more of a surveillance force than a search-and-capture. But weakened though it was, it was still strong enough for Zack to not dare face it, not while he had Cloud's welfare to consider. Stalemate, but it was better than annihilation. Or recapture.
The sun was setting bloody crimson behind them when the two came upon a small farmhouse nestled in the gentle foothills of the dividing range. A thin trail of smoke drifted from the chimney and a single scrawny chocobo pecked at the dirt around the front porch. Not intimidating, but Zack wasn't taking any chances. He retreated to the far side of the hills and circled around to the back of the house, where there was still no sign of life.
"Stay here for a bit, Cloud. I'll be right back." He laid the blond down under the cover of a wild rose bush, then he adjusted the angle of the huge sword at his back, making sure it was within easy reach, before advancing on the house.
He needed food desperately. Cloud, as usual, gave no sign of appearing hungry or thirsty, but Zack himself was on the verge of collapse. One thing no one mentioned about SOLDIERs was that a side effect of mako was a quickened metabolism. It helped tremendously with healing and muscle development, but it meant that sustenance was a constant problem, especially in this game-poor landscape.
Making what cover he could from scattered bushes and the shadow pooling at the foot of a dilapidated barn, Zack finally made it to the cottage's back door just as the sun fell completely below the horizon. The valley was plunged into sudden darkness. Zack blinked and narrowed his eyes, well aware of how visible the mako glow made him.
The door was shut and all the windows were curtained. It could be a trap, or it could be an innocent farmer who, with any luck, wasn't even aware of Shinra's Most Wanted list. He took the Buster Sword and leaned it against the doorframe, out of sight to anyone opening the door but right there in case it was needed. Zack raised his hand to knock. It was funny, he thought, funny in a sad way, that he was more afraid of knocking on some stranger's door than he was of facing a squad of armed men. That's what being a fugitive did to a man. He rapped once and stepped aside quickly.
No bullets came breaking through the door, no alarm was raised, and for once the ordinary happened: a young girl in a plain dress and apron opened the door and peeked out into the darkness with all the calm curiosity of a country dweller not used to visitors.
"Hello?" she said, before noticing Zack's black-clad form just outside the rectangle of light cast by the open door. "Hello, sir. Is there anything I can do for you?"
He glanced over her shoulder but there was no sign of troops or an ambush. "Hello," he replied, remembering to act friendly and as if this was a not-unusual occurence for him. "I got lost in these hills and I'm not equipped to spend the night outside. Could you spare some food? I don't have much I can give you in return, but —"
"That's all right," she interrupted, sounding like Aerith did when she'd made up her mind and didn't want Zack to argue. "Come on in. We've got plenty to spare."
Zack restrained himself from looking back toward Cloud's hiding spot as he swung the Buster Sword to his back and stepped inside. The girl stared at the huge weapon for a moment as if regretting her invitation, but then her eyes widened and her gaze moved to his face as if she expected to recognize him.
He didn't trust himself to remain impassive under scrutiny so he looked around the kitchen instead. There was a sturdy table, chairs, a potato box, and a large stone hearth. By the fire sat an old man, hunched with age. He turned his head toward them as the girl shut the door and Zack realized that the man's eyes were opaque, clouded blue. His thin beard wavered as he opened his mouth, trying to force words out of his throat.
"It's all right, Grandfather. This is a lost traveller who came here looking for dinner. He's a friend. Okay?"
The old man nodded, his mouth still moving with quiet smacking noises, and turned back to the fire. The girl bustled about, bringing out bread and vegetables and a small portion of meat and setting them on the table. Meanwhile, Zack felt utterly out of place — an armored warrior among such simple folk, carrying a weapon into a house that should never need weapons. But at the same time, the girl didn't seem too surprised. It was almost as if she had been waiting for him.
Zack picked up a piece of bread and downed it in two mouthfuls while he considered his options. The safest bet would be to keep moving tonight, but his stomach argued otherwise. At the very least, he hoped there was enough time for him to get a decent meal before continuing. He moved on to the meat next, eating it with his hands as he stood by the table.
What to do, what to do?
Remembering Cloud lying helpless on the cold ground under the rose bush, Zack decided to test his luck. If there was a trap here, he wanted it sprung earlier rather than later.
"My name's...Jack. Jack Black. Thanks for putting me up tonight. You are...?"
The girl looked at him, amber eyes flickering orange in the firelight. "I'm Ceera. That's Grandfather." She hesitated. "Are you sure your name is Jack? We were told someone like you would be along —"
She didn't finish the sentence, as the Buster Sword was out in that instant; for lack of any obvious enemies, it was pointed at her, although the hand holding it shook. Ceera took a step back but Zack kept the sword level. He'd wanted to trust her. Why did everything have to fall apart?
"I'm not your enemy," the girl said earnestly, her face a mix of fear and pity. "I was told to give you a message."
Zack lowered the sword's point from her chest but kept the blade in his hand. "How do I know you're not lying?"
"Do I look like I could stand a chance against you? Does Grandfather? Please believe me."
"What's the message?"
Behind Ceera, the old man chuckled to himself, unaware of the rest of the world.
Slowly, keeping her hands in sight, Ceera stepped to the mantel and took down a wrinkled envelope. Zack took it at arm's-length and retreated to the far side of the kitchen before looking down at the paper in his hand. That handwriting — Aerith's! He ripped it open instantly and unfolded the letter with shaking hands.
Dear Zack,
I don't know if you'll ever read this, but I'm writing it anyway. Life's been good so far. The money from the flowers has really helped. I know you don't like it, but Tseng's been hanging around a lot. I think I'm running out of time. I hope they don't read these letters because they'll probably censor this and it will never get to you, but it's worth a try. Maybe you don't care for me any more. That's okay. Or maybe you do but for some reason you can't answer. That's okay, too. I'll figure something out.
Zack, I'm scared. Tseng keeps dropping hints that I should leave the city, but I'm too afraid of the sky. I wish you were here with me to prove there's nothing to fear. I know I'm being silly; you're travelling the world, and I'm too afraid to peek out from under the Plate. When I do go into the upper city to sell flowers, it's always at night, and I leave again before dawn.
I don't know if I'll be able to send you any more letters after this, Zack. I hope I'll get to see you again. Be careful, okay?
Love, Aerith
Blue eyes blinked at the paper before Zack folded it carefully and slid it into his pocket. "I'd better be going. Thank you for dinner." He bent and picked up the envelope from where it had fallen to the floor. It felt strangely heavy in his hand and as he turned it over a second piece of paper slipped out of it. Snatching it midflight, Zack's heart felt heavy as he noticed the dark, precise handwriting. Not a girl's hand, surely.
Zack —
The trains have been stopped; no one is getting in or out. Shinra has news of the Cetra in the Midgar slums and wants her found. It's my job or my friendship. Don't ask me to make the noble choice. If you're going to see her again, it needs to be soon, and you'll need an alternate route to enter the city. An escape plan would also serve you well.
Troops are closing in, Zack, and not just on you. Not all the Turks are your friends. Make sure my faith in you isn't misplaced.
Tseng
It was dated almost a week after Aerith's letter.
Zack sat down suddenly on one of the chairs, the wood creaking at the burden. Ceera took a step forward, hands clasped tightly together, then stopped as the Buster Sword thudded flat to the floor by Zack's side.
"Bad news?" she asked, glancing nervously from him to the weapon as if anticipating a killing frenzy. "Is there anything I can do?"
Shaking his head, Zack stood up again, his mind filled and empty all at once. Aerith was in grave danger, the same danger he and Cloud were facing, and he wasn't there to protect her. He didn't doubt that she could take care of herself, but even he would have a hard time getting out of a deadlocked city. Of course, it wouldn't be any easier to get into one, especially having to carry Cloud with him...
The SOLDIER looked at Ceera, who returned the stare with wide frightened eyes. "There is something you can do. Two things, actually. Are you willing?"
It was trust her or die; there wasn't much choice. And although Zack knew that sometimes innocents were the worst traitors, he couldn't believe that this simple farm girl would betray him. He couldn't let himself even imagine the possibility, because once that happened, all roads really would be closed.
Cloud or Aerith. How to choose? He couldn't.
Zack ran back to the rose bush on the hillside where Cloud was staring blindly up at the moonlight shining through the thorny branches. The SOLDIER didn't say a word, only turned the blond's head away from the sky as he picked him up in his arms and carried him slowly toward the farmhouse.
"I'm sorry, Cloud, I really am. I would prefer running forever, but...well...this sucks. I've gotta make a choice. You or Aerith. I can't take you into Midgar with me, not like this, and I can't leave her to her fate. I hope you'll understand." Cloud's head rolled limply and his face pressed into Zack's shoulder pauldron. The SOLDIER stopped several yards from the porch and looked down at the boy in his arms.
"I won't say it's been a great five years, but I'm glad you were there. But everything's gotta end; maybe some rest will be good for you. Yeah, that would be great, when Aerith and I come back, if you're all better and we can go and live our lives like we were meant to. Til then, though...I guess this is goodbye." Zack tightened his grip on the unresponsive body and briefly, awkwardly, pressed his lips to the cool forehead.
Then he hurried to the house and pushed open the door with a foot. Ceera was where he'd left her, crouched by her grandfather as if awaiting a massacre, but she stood up as he entered. Her eyes immediately went to Cloud's face and she took a step forward, hands up in a motherly gesture.
"Poor thing," she breathed, then cringed and looked up at Zack to see his reaction. He kept his face stern as he knelt by the fire, letting the heat chase away the chill of the outside.
"He's sick. I don't know if you've ever heard of mako poisoning, but that's what he's got. He can't move, can't talk — but he's still in there." He ran a hand through golden-yellow hair. "He needs rest. Just keep him quiet and I think he'll get better. Don't tell anyone he's here. I'll be back as soon as I can — maybe a couple of weeks, maybe much longer — and he'd better still be here. Understand?"
Ceera nodded mutely and shivered. She reached out a tentative hand and laid it on Cloud's forehead, brushing his hair from his eyes. "I'll keep him safe, I promise." Zack glanced up at the sound of tears in her voice.
"What is it?" he asked gently, reminded that she was only a country girl who'd probably never seen soldiers before. This all must be terribly frightening for her.
"He looks like my brother."
Zack tensed. He listened carefully, but there was no sound from the rest of the house.
"He died two years ago. I'll take good care of your friend."
"Thank you," didn't seem to suffice.
A/N: Thanks to anyone and everyone who reads this — it means a lot to me that you've invested some of your time in my work.
Zack's not the most imaginative when it comes to pseudonyms. As my beta said, "It's kinda stupid, but it's so Zack."
Till next time!