SIX


Selphie shivered as sleet pelted her skin and wondered if they would be left in the cold to die.

She huddled against a sleeping Xu and clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. The cold never bothered Selphie in Trabia, but she had the luxury of warm coats and base layers and fur-lined boots to keep her feet toasty and dry.

Here, there was no shelter. No protective clothing. Just the endless rain, the mud, the cold, and the dwindling number of prisoners they shared quarters with inside the pen.

Some of them died of illness. Some were shot when they became too exhausted to work. Some were beaten to death for disobedience.

Xu wasn't in great shape. She never completely recovered from the beating she received, even with aid from Selphie's stash of pilfered potions, and if they didn't get out soon, she might be the next to go.

So, Selphie watched and waited and looked for opportunities she could exploit. She learned the guards habits and patterns and knew which ones were more lax and which ones were hard-asses. In the meantime, she stole things when she could get away with it, and either stashed them in her bra or buried them inside the pen for use later.

One thing she picked up while working in the infirmary was that these G-Army soldiers were not well trained, most were not very bright, and they were treated almost as bad as the prisoners. She helped patch up more than one soldier that got beat up by his superior for minor infractions.

Why were they loyal? Why fight for Galbadia if this was how they treated the people who aided their cause?

She supposed it was fear that kept them there. The prisoners weren't the only ones who witnessed what happened to dissidents. Maybe, the instinct for self-preservation was stronger in some than the instinct to fight back. It was easier to keep your head down and deal with it than risk imprisonment and death. As her mother liked to say, some people were sheep and some were the wolves.

Selphie fancied herself a chocobo. No one ruled them. Even the tame, well-trained, prize-winning show birds refused to put up with abuse. A chocobo trainer that used force was usually met an equal or greater amount of aggression along with a cracked skull.

Tonight was the night. They would escape tonight, just before the shift change. The guards would be tired, it was cold, and the rain-sleet mix reduced visibility to less than ten feet. Conditions were perfect.

She checked the time on the nearby tower and roused the Xu from her slumber. Xu groaned and pushed Selphie's hands away, but Selphie persisted. She couldn't escape and carry a sleeping woman at the same time.

Xu sat up from her slump and blinked at Selphie with sleep-clouded but murderous eyes.

"I want you to go over there, next to the gate. Stay low and be quiet."

"Why?"

"Because in five minutes, I'm going to scream," Selphie whispered. "When the guards open the gate to check, I want you to make a break for it, go to the left, and hide behind that stack of crates over there. Got it?"

"What are you going to do?" Xu asked. "How do you know they won't just shoot you instead?"

"They might," Selphie said. "Still, better than the alternative, right?"

"I guess," Xu said.

"If someone comes looking for you, run. If I go down, run, okay?"

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. I've got a plan," Selphie said. "And, I might be small, but I can kick some serious butt when I want to."

Three minutes to go-time.

Xu wiped a clump of wet hair from her cheek and looked Selphie over.

"I've met some nutty people in my time," she said, "but you are hands-down, the craziest of them all."

Selphie grinned.

"I'm sure you mean that as a compliment. You know, since I'm about to save your bacon and all."

Xu smiled back and took Selphie's hand. She held on for a second, squeezed it, and then let go.

"I'll meet you outside the fence," Xu said. "You better show up or I'll come looking for you."

Two minutes.

"Ready?" Selphie asked. Xu nodded. "Go. I'll see you in a bit."

Selphie rose into a crouch while Xu crab-waked toward the gate at a snail's pace.

One minute.

The flare was tucked between her back and the clasp of her bra, lying along her spine. It was a talisman. It kept her focused and motivated, and it was time to put it to good use. She pulled it out, opened up the plastic case that protected it from the elements, and waited for Xu to reach the fence.

Now.

Selphie sucked in a deep breath of air, opened her mouth and shrieked at the top of her lungs. Shouts responded from beyond the fence.

Time to employ the Selphie Shuffle, a tactic she used on her brothers and had never failed her.

She pulled the tab on the flare. Red and white balls of light sliced through the night with a pop-pop-pop like fireworks, and she tossed it to the right side of the pen. The guards would go to the right, while she and Xu went left.

The floodlight came on and a spotlight fell on the flare. Selphie darted to the left, and beckoned to the cowering women in the center of the pen. They stayed put.

"Come on," she hissed. "Now's our chance."

The sheep remained where they were.

Selphie felt sorry for them. Sorry that her escape would result in harsher restrictions for them, but this was their chance to run, and they were too afraid take it.

Xu ducked around the edge of the gate, silent as a shadow as several soldiers poured into the enclosure.

Shots rang out and Selphie dropped to her stomach to avoid being hit. She suppressed a laugh when she realized the soldiers were firing at the flare and not her.

Boy, these guys were stupid.

She belly crawled through the mud toward the still-open gate, her freedom so close she could taste it. Flakes of snow fell all around her.

It was a sign. A gift from the faeries.

Then, the floodlight bathed her in intense, blinding white and the gate beyond vanished into the darkness beyond the edges of the spotlight. She couldn't see. She wasn't sure how far the gate was, but Selphie was not going to die here. She shot to her feet and sprinted in the general direction of freedom and tried not to scream each time a shot rang out.

A lick of fire split across the outside of her right calf, and a second blazed through her shoulder, but Selphie kept running. She ran until she found a quiet, dark place behind a tarp-covered transport vehicle to catch her breath, away from the shouting guards.

There was no perimeter fence, only a collection of vehicles and tents and supplies. If she could get past all that without being spotted, she was home-free. She could go back to Trabia, back to her parents.

If they were still there. If not, she would find out where they went, and maybe they could rescue her brothers, too.

A hand clamped over Selphie's mouth and she bit back a scream as she was dragged backward.

"Shh. It's me," Xu breathed against her ear. "Stay quiet."

Boots splashed through mud nearby and Selphie didn't dare breathe. Her heart raced and her throat burned, and the wound in her shoulder went from numb to three-alarm-fire. It was all she could do to not whimper.

When the soldiers passed, Xu let her go and took her hand to lead her deeper into the darkness. The pain in her calf hampered her retreat, but Selphie was not going to let it stop her.

They stopped again behind munitions crates labeled "Rations." Selphie's stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Maybe they could swipe something for the road.

A loud click came from their left, where a lone soldier with a scary-looking gun stood in the way of their freedom. He was young, sleepy, and out of uniform.

"Hi," Xu said and flashed a brilliant smile. "You're kinda cute."

He blinked, then smiled a boyish, crooked, gee-whiz kind of smile. From the look of him, Selphie would bet no one had ever told him he was cute. He wasn't ugly, just very, very average, with a face no one would ever notice in a crowd.

Xu shot to her feet and smashed her elbow into the soldier's jaw. He went down with a sploosh, and Selphie surged forward and pried the weapon from his hands. Xu went for his pockets.

A survival knife. A potion. A deck of cards. Xu took them all.

"We're really sorry about this," Selphie said and aimed the gun at his chest. He stared back, wide eyed and lifted his hands in the air. "You're our hostage now."

"Selphie!" Xu hissed.

"It's fine," Selphie said. "Anyway, we can use him as a human shield if they start shooting at us again."

"Uhh, please don't do that," the soldier said. "I don't want to die."

"Well, duh! Neither do we," Selphie said. "Xu? Secure the prisoner."

Xu stared.

"I always wanted to say that," Selphie admitted. "And you know? I kinda wanna blow some stuff up before we leave. To let 'em know they messed with the wrong girls."

"Selphie, no," Xu sighed. "Let's just go."

"But it would be fun," Selphie whined. She waved the barrel of the gun at the hostage. "You wanna live? Help us get out of here."

"My name's Nida," the soldier offered.

"I see what you're doing," Selphie said and narrowed her eyes. "You tell us your name so it's harder to see you as a hostage, and therefore it'll be harder to shoot you!" To Xu, she said, "I read that in a book about what to do if you're kidnapped."

"Selphie-" Xu hissed. "They're coming back."

Footsteps splashed through mud. Voices came closer. Somewhere in the distance, a woman sobbed.

"I know a way out, okay?" Nida said. "I'll help you, just don't kill me."


Seifer didn't have much experience with goodbyes. When people left, they went quietly and without a word of parting. Now, when faced with the opportunity to say something meaningful, Seifer was at a loss.

His siblings piled out of the pick-up truck, some from the cab and others from the bed, and gathered near the tailgate. Each carried the sum-total of their lives in worn canvas duffles or in shopping bags, which amounted to a collection of holey socks, worn and stained hand-me-downs and maybe a small reminder of what they would leave behind.

He'd seen Fujin slip a handful of shells from the beach into her bag, and Quistis, that book she'd already read a hundred times already, Zell a collection of yellowed Combat King magazines, and Raijin a drawing journal of the bugs he encountered in his day to day travels and a dirty, stuffed rabbit that was missing an ear, an eye and most of its stuffing.

What would Seifer take, if he was the one leaving?

Nothing. There wasn't a single item of sentimental value to him inside that house. Or, maybe it was the house itself he couldn't bear to leave behind. He hated the place, but it was as much a part of him as the heart beating inside his chest.

If he was smart, he would join them, but no matter how far he ran, there was no refuge from the obligations waiting for him back at the house.

"CAT," Fujin said. "FEED."

"It's a cat, Fu," Seifer said. "It can feed itself."

"FEED," she insisted.

"Fine, I'll feed your damn cat," he said and held open his arms. "Come give me a hug."

Small though she was, Fujin's hug hurt. And not just in a physical way.

"Stay out of trouble," he said.

Behind her, the rest watched with varying degrees of sadness, but the overall vibe was one of excitement. They were going somewhere far away from here, about to face an unknown, but potentially better future.

All but Squall. He stared off into the distance, his back against the passenger side fender, arms crossed over his chest, and he hadn't uttered a single word since their altercation last night. The cut on his forehead was scabbed over and the skin around it blazed pink where it wasn't bruised. If he'd asked, Ellone would have healed it for him, but the stubborn little idiot wanted to be hard-headed about it, and now he would wear the scar for life.

So be it.

One by one, Seifer said his goodbyes. Each one drove home the reality of their parting. Quistis vibrated with excitement, Zell couldn't keep still, Raijin wept big, fat tears and hugged so hard, he lifted Seifer off the ground.

Only Squall remained. Seifer was torn between letting their goodbye go unsaid and forcing one. Squall leaned against the truck and refused to look at him.

"You really gonna just stand there?" Seifer demanded.

The gaze Squall turned on Seifer was cool and impassive and it reminded him of the way Fujin's stupid cat eyed a hapless sparrow just before it moved in for the kill.

Squall never looked at him like that. Bullies, the guys that persisted in hitting on Quistis, unannounced visitors that sought to convert them all to Hyne's church, sure. A thousand times, Seifer witnessed that frosty stare, but never directed at him.

"You're not going to say goodbye?"

Squall eased away from the fender, his arms still crossed. The others drifted away, out of earshot.

"C'mon," Seifer said. "Don't leave it like this."

"Take care of her," Squall said.

"You say that like I have a choice," Seifer said.

Squall's hand shot out and seized Seifer's collar.

"Promise me."

Seifer stared at his younger brother, at the intensity in his glare. He wrapped his hand around Squall's wrist and squeezed until Squall released him.

"Like I said, I don't have a choice," he said. "Now, you gonna say goodbye or do I have to beat it out of you?"

Squall capitulated and offered his hand.

"Aww, fuck your handshake," Seifer said. "Hug me."

Squall didn't move.

"I'm your brother. Hug me, goddamn it," he said. "We might not get another chance to do this, so don't fuck it up by being a stubborn little shit."

The corner of Squall's mouth twitched. The ice in his stare melted.

Then, he laughed. Not loud, but it was a laugh, and that was good enough. Seifer opened his arms and gathered Squall to him with a rough pat on the back and mussed his hair.

Better. Much better.

"I'm leaving you in charge," Seifer said in his ear. "You better look out for them, or else."

"I will," Squall promised.

Seifer patted his back one last time, broke away, and turned to the rest.

"Alright, get the hell out of here," he said. "Don't come back. You hear me?"

"What about when the war's over, ya know?" Raijin asked.

"Maybe then," Seifer conceded. "But I don't want to see any of your faces until then, got it?"

They turned as a group toward the hotel, where the would meet the representatives from Esthar.

Squall hesitated. He took two steps backward, his gaze locked on Seifer, and then turned for the door without a look back.

Seifer wasn't much on prayer. He wasn't so sure there existed some higher power that looked out for the souls that wandered this planet, but he offered up a silent plea to whatever deity might be listening to take care of his family.

They were just kids. Going off to fight and die in someone else's war.

They would need whatever help they could get.


Outside of books and movies, Squall had never seen an airship before. The craft before him was larger than a sailing ship and painted a deep wine-red and shaped like a mythical beast from some far away sea.

It was named Armageddon.

To Squall, it was an ominous name. A ball of dread formed in his stomach as he followed his family and twelve other youths up the gangplank. The were all too excited to notice his hesitation.

It wasn't too late to leave. Not yet. But if Seifer's behavior last night was any indication, he would not be welcomed back.

Then again, what could Seifer do if he stayed?

Behind him, the hatch closed with a metallic clank and a hiss of machinery.

"Man, what I wouldn't give to get a peek at the engines in this thing," Zell said to no one in particular.

Squall filed along with the others to a space full of seats that all faced a picture window that offered a 180-degree view of the plain and sea beyond the town. He chose a seat away from the others, near the wall and belted himself in as instructed.

He thought about what Ellone said to him, just before he left.

"If you hear of a man named Laguna Loire, find out where he is if you get the chance," she said. "Find him and tell him what we feared has come to pass."

Squall didn't understand what that meant. Not entirely.

"Who is he?"

"Someone very important to me," she said. "He needs to know I'm alive, and everything he tried to prevent happened anyway. And if it all goes wrong, tell him I'm sorry."

"Important to you?"

"Yes," she said. "He was important to your mother, too."

They never talked about his mother. Not when he was a child and not since her return. He knew almost nothing about her, except that she died the day he was born, and that her name was Raine.

"Why?"

Ellone laid a hand against his cheek.

"He's your father," she said.

If he knew nothing of his mother, his father was a faceless, nameless entity that no one, not even Edea ever mentioned.

"I don't know if he's even alive or still in Esthar," she said. "But it's worth a shot, right?"

As the engines of the Armageddon rumbled to life, Squall considered whether it was or not. He assumed all along that his father was dead. Why else would he be out of the picture? Why would a living father leave his son to be raised in an orphanage?

Squall didn't know him, but he already hated Laguna Loire for abandoning him.

His stomach lurched as the Armageddon lifted off the ground and hovered. Zell and some of the others whooped in excitement, but all Squall felt was dread.