Big Boss didn't know what he'd find when the smoke had cleared from the missile fired at Solid Snake. There was a slight chance at something whole, a black skeleton caked in what remained of its charred flesh. What was more likely was a partial cauterization, the body blown to bits, some fried and others miraculously untouched, and then the unholy remains of the torso and head, if the individual should be so unfortunate as to survive the blast. What Big Boss had not expected, however, was there being nothing. His one good eye narrowed. Snake would not have been atomized completely. Big Boss had missed, firing too low and simply launching Snake backward. Years of compensation and training, and still–one-eyed depth impairment was a bitch.
Dropping the empty launcher on the Ground, Big Boss took up his large machine gun. Designed for suppressive fire, the large magazine, high fire rate and higher caliber made it ideal for the hunt of a single cockroach pretending to be a snake. Big Boss cocked the weapon and entered what remained of the industrial cargo. Coming to the first crossroads between the shipping crates, Big Boss looked to the left, finding nothing but a pile of smoldering debris. Looking to the right, one of the crates had burst open, a stockpile of weapons spilling out across the floor. He looked ahead and decided to move forward, step by step, to the next intersection. Looking right, the path was untouched, and looking left–there–it was Snake! He fired his machine gun, but Snake had been only boots disappearing behind the next crate. Big Boss followed slowly–step by step, wrapping the barrel of the gun with his cold, steel hand to the next turn.
At the following intersection, a large rock had smashed a crate, bounding across two containers to the left and right on the way there. Big Boss looked right, to the container that had spilled medical supplies–there was an overturned cardboard box, fresh white bandages, cold medicine, painkillers, all strewn across the concrete. Big Boss turned to the left, the other crate had spilled food…
And he now realized that he had become too rusty.
Before he could rectify his mistake, Big Boss's head shot downward as he was struck in the back of the head, the empty cardboard box bouncing in front of him. Big Boss spun around as he heard three shots and found Snake dropped on one knee, off-hand outstretched, palm open, and his main hand hanging low with his readied handgun, the barrel still smoking. Big Boss looked down, red pooling at the front of his fatigues. He suddenly felt weak in the knees.
Big Boss was matter-of-fact about it, "Damn you, Snake. You're pretty Good."
Big Boss braced his hand on the nearest storage container as he found his ability to stand rapidly drained from him. Pressing his back against the cold metal, he finally slid down and got off his tired feet.
Snake caught his breath, still gripping his now empty gun.
Big Boss wheezed, "Snake, you didn't earn that codename–you were given it–Given it by the same person who gave me mine. This…" He took a moment, gathering the air to continue in short breaths, "This doesn't end with me." He raised his cold steel fist, extending its index finger, "Don't you want to know why you were sent here? Do you really think it was because you were 'a trustworthy serpent?'" He clenched his steel fist, "Snake, spies aren't meant to be trustworthy," He turned the fist and lowered it, "But it sure helps if they're gullible."
Snake felt a chill run down his spine. He threw his body to the ground just as flame roared at Big Boss' elbow and the metallic fist rocketed off his body, the steel projectile narrowly missing Snake's head. Snake jumped to his feet just to hear the rocket growing louder. He ducked again, missing it a second time. He only had a moment to glance at Big Boss, seeing his hand jammed up the hollow socket of his sleeve to remote control his fist. He needed to–the fist came once more, and he leapt out of the way. There was no time to think. He could go for Big Boss–Damn, there it came again.
It was a baseball, and all he needed was a bat. Snake dove for Big Boss's machine gun, grabbing it by the barrel, leaping to his feet just in time to swing and knock the fist off course. It shot off, ricocheting off one of the steel crates, and then another, and then… it stopped. It took Snake a moment for his eyes to follow the trajectory of the cold, metallic fist to where it had ended its flight. Finally, Snake found it–it now protruded from Big Boss' chest.
Big Boss' one eye was shot open and his mouth agape as he tried, and failed to catch his breath with audible gasps. The shallow, desperate breath waned and grew softer, and the coldness in Big Boss' eye seemed to be replaced with a warmth. It was as if, as the life drained from his body, the foremost sensation Big Boss felt was relief. As Big Boss breathed his last breath, and his head eased back for a final rest, Snake almost thought he saw a smile at the corners of the soldier's open mouth. This paradise had failed, but perhaps his next would not disappoint.
Snake stood for a moment. His adrenaline gave way to fatigue as aches surged through his spent body and he gazed at Big Boss. His commander was dead, and he had killed him.
But what was he doing? He didn't have a moment. By God–how much time had passed? Where was Ellen?
"Snake," Ellen called from the end of a path leading to the far wall.
Snake dropped the machine gun and ran to her, "Are you alright?"
"Yes," She winced, clutching her shoulder.
"C'mon," Snake offered his hand, "We need to get out of here."
Ellen took Snake's hand, and the two ran to the only accessible door in the hangar. The door slid open to reveal a towering upward tunnel of concrete, with three service ladders lined against the wall.
"Which one do we take?" Ellen asked, "Do they all go to the same place?"
"I don't know," Snake pointed, "Let's take the middle one."
"I…" Ellen clutched her bleeding shoulder, "You should go first. I will only slow you down."
Snake looked at her wound. She wouldn't make it up the ladder, not fast enough, at least. But that wasn't going to stop them.
"No," Snake turned his back to her, "Get on,"
Ellen climbed aboard Snake's back, wrapping her legs around his waist and gritting her teeth as she threw both her bad arm and her good arm over Snake's shoulders, clinging to him as he mounted the middle ladder. Snake threw his left arm up, and then his right, and then his left, and then his right, heaving himself and Ellen from the depths of Outer Heaven one rung at a time. Snake began grunting with every lunge of his right arm, spurring his body past its growing fatigue. He would not slow down. He could not slow down.
As they ascended, the right ladder ended at a maintenance port to some other floor of Outer Heaven. The ladders did not all go to the same place. Snake looked, praying he had chosen correctly, but found he neared the end of the middle ladder, while the left continued to stretch up the tunnel.
"Damn," Sweat drenched Snake's face.
"What?" Ellen was too busy holding on for dear life to look.
"Hold on tight. This isn't going to be pleasant," Snake leapt horizontally from the middle ladder to the left, losing some progress as his body snapped like a loose, wet towel against the rungs.
Snake and Ellen both vocalized their pain from the impact. It was as if Snake had been simultaneously struck by steel bats across his body. It hurt. It hurt so much, but he couldn't stop.
Snake's feet frantically found rungs to step on as Snake resumed the climb, his grunts more of a yelling chant as he threw his hands up, right, then left, then right, then left, up, and up and up, until finally, the ladder ended at the top of the tunnel. Snake heaved himself and Ellen onto the new floor–a long concrete hallway.
Dear God, there was more.
Snake Clambered to his feet with Ellen, and the two set off down the hallway, crossing the long, narrow passage. The muscles of Snake's legs gripped and seized with exhaustion, but now, he had to keep going, he had to get Ellen out of here, he promised. He would not allow his body to stop until he knew she was clear. Then he could rest–only then. Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel and found… stairs.
Snake's fist struck the wall, "Oh, for the love of God," He switched on his radio, "Diane–How much time do we have?"
The signal was weak, Diane's voice was garbled, "Snake? Two minutes. Are you out?"
"No," Breathlessly, Snake and Ellen began ascending the concrete stairwell, "We're going… We're…"
"Snake? What?" Static overtook the line. Diane said his name again, "Snake? Snake?" She cried his name before the static won out and the line dropped. Ellen overtook Snake on the staircase, stopping at every floor to shout at him to keep going, pulling him up the steps with her as Snake's body began to give out. He couldn't do it, he wasn't going to make it.
"Snake, move!" Ellen shouted, Clutching her bad arm against her as she pulled him up yet another flight, "Move!"
Snake turned the corner, finding one last staircase to a door, a bulkhead.
One more. One more.
Snake's legs shook as he ascended the final stairs, his body pushing beyond its breakpoint. The last thing he ever needed to do in his life was open this door. He leapt at the door, grasping the bulkhead and heaving it to the left as hard as he could. His hand slid off the wheel, sweat having soaked through his gloves. Snake cursed, looping his arms around the bulkhead this time as he heaved at the wheel with his forearms.
It twisted once.
"Come on!" Snake yelled at the door.
It twisted again.
"Come on!" He yelled.
It twisted again, and again, and then there was a metallic clunk and the bulkhead's steel locks withdrew. Every muscle in Snake spasmed as he threw himself backward to open the door. Ellen came alongside him to move the massive gate of steel until light poured into the concrete stairwell, the blinding light giving way to a clearing of a dry, hot desert.
Basking in the glory of the radiant sun, with his mission accomplished, Solid Snake collapsed in the doorway. As he drifted to what would be his final sleep, He found himself clawed at, pulled by his hair from the velvet embrace of his rest by Ellen shaking him on the ground and yelling in his ear.
"Go," Snake yelled back, "Get out of here."
"No. No." She shook Snake with her one good arm, "You do not get to give up! Either we both stay, or we both go!"
Damnit.
Snake clenched his fist, pounding it into the concrete, sending energy into his body by way of pain, "Alright. Alright,"he yelled. It wasn't for him, it was for her, "We go! We go!"
With his last ounce of strength, Solid Snake peeled himself from the floor, climbing to his feet. Taking Ellen's hand, the two ran, with all of their might, as far as they could, as fast as they could, into the infinite horizon beyond Outer Heaven's walls. They were sent off balance as the Earth quaked in what felt like the end of the world, the dry ground splitting and cracking as life itself shook as if on the end of a rapid piston. Everything shook. It became impossible to see ahead. A sudden, forceful wave of heat finally blew Snake off balance as he was sent tumbling into the sand. He couldn't move. All he could do was lay on into the end.