Chapter One: Breaking Free
 

“The hours of the day,
I wait for the night,
I watch the waves pass over the ocean,
I watch the stars cry out your name,
I close my eyes.
I go to the highlands to ask where you are.
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?”

All scavengers are bastards. I learnt that when I was seven and they killed my ma.
Well, she wasn’t my ma in the strictest sense, as in biological. But she was the only person I had who fully understood me, who I used to snuggle up to late at night and cry as she held me and whispered ‘It’s all right, Marlene, it’s all right.’
It’s funny, I’m sixteen now and I still miss that voice, that face. Sometimes at night when I’m real lonely I still talk to her. When it’s dark outside and I can hear them hunting about the house for a meal.
Back then, as the fuckers chased me down the slums, I heard that same shrill cry as a pack of them jumped down from the girders and tried to hemn me in.
awhoo-ooo-oo.
I laughed and pressed ahead. There weren’t many in Midgar who were as fast as me,  especially old scavangers with limbs missing. One of the younger ones fell beside me with a grunt, and I veered off to the left, sickened by his yellow-toothed grin and pale grey eyes.
I skidded to a halt and turned round quickly. Thank God for the Fog. A thick, damp blanket of white-green cloud rolled in from the sides of the street. I tried not to breathe in:  the Mako Fog had done weird shit to some of my friends.
I glanced round quickly, hefted a large rock and threw it into the Fog. There was a scream and a hail of small debris in reply. I laughed and sped back down the path again. One scavenger down, a few thousand more to go.
I halted suddenly, surprised by what was before me. Some kind of building on my right. Gutted. The church, I think Michel had said.
My thoughts journeyed back to ma. She’d had a daughter herself, she’d said. Aeris, the girl was called, who had grown flowers or something in the church there. A few months before The End, she went off with a man and never came back. Bitch, leaving her own mother all alone. I hoped she’d died when Meteor blew everything to pieces. No, actually, I hoped that she’d mutated into some sort of freak, like the scvengers but worse, doomed to live out a miserable, wretched life eating corpses in ruined villages. I had seen the look on ma’s face when she talked of Aeris. So sad. She spoke like she knew the girl was dead, like it was obvious. I’ve often wondered why. Perhaps that’s why I hate her; because it was so obvious ma loved her so much more than me. Thinking about that made me want to curl up and cry, and suddenly I was mad. At ma, at scavengers, at Aeris or whatever she was called. Angrily, I threw a stone back at the scavengers, and then another, another.
“Fuck you!” I screamed. “Fuck you, ma, and all your bullshit! You never loved me you fucking whore! Don’t think I didn’t know you slept with all the other men either, you fucking, fucking bitch! And you, you Aeris slut! Why don’t you all just fuckin’ die and leave me alone.”
It frightened me what my mouth could say. And suddenly I realised why she’d never loved me as much as Aeris. I’d always been bad to ma. Called her a slag while the men walked out of the door, embaressed, and stuffed the cash into her hand. She’d always shifted away from me, afterwards. She wasn’t clever, ma. Or strong. Or rich. There weren’t many places for someone like her other than a ... Perhaps that’s why she’d died so young. The shame, I mean.
She always was a proud woman. Vain, even. When I used to get up she spent hours putting her makeup on, just to look presentable to all her goddamn clients. Every morning when she bent down to kiss men I saw the powder in the lines of her face. The thin, tight line of lipstick over her mouth. She shortened her skirt a few inches half an hour before the man knocked. I got so sick of the sounds upstairs that I’d go out every night.
I sat down on a concrete slab suddenly overcome with misery and sadness, and I wept bitterly, knowing that someday that would be me. I couldn’t sow, or cook, or anything like that. And no man in the entire city had his head shitted up so bad that he’d come near me and make a move, let alone ask me to marry him. The only thing I was good at was kickin’ ass in a fight. And that didn’t mean anything if you were a woman. Not in this hell-hole.
I gotta get out of here. I thought desperatly. My mind flitted back to how wretched ma had looked before she had died. There was no way I was gonna end up like her.
I stood fiercely, and looked behind me. The scavengers were gone. Why didn’t I go now? What was to stop me? I grinned and started off down the dusty path. That’s if there was still a way out of Midgar. I’d never been this close to the exit before. It was scary. But kind of exciting. I grinned again.
My smile faded when I took a dozen more steps down the road.
A huge man stood ten metres away. I mean massive. A thin, neat goatee lined the edges of his ebony-coloured face. Thick, muscular arms bulged freely out of a dirty brown vest that I figured he’d worn for the past twenty years. I stared wistfully at the large gun on his right hand, all sorts of strange feelings whirling about in my head.
He stopped, made a weird, choking sound that gurgled out from his stomach. His eyes widened, his mouth twisted in an effort to say something.
“Marlene?” His voice was coarse and deep.
“Who... who... who are you?” I said breathlessly.
“Marlene?” he said again, taking a step forward. Hesitantly, I moved backwards. “Marlene? ‘S at you?”
“Who are you?” I shouted again.
But I knew.
Barrett.
He ran forward, screaming ‘Marlene! Shit, Marlene, it’s you!’, squeezing me in his vice-like grip.
“You’re dead.” I mumbled feebly.
Then, finally, it finally set in, and I just sobbed and pounded his chest, all the time screaming again and again “You’re dead you’re dead you’re dead you’re dead...”

* * * *

It’s funny. What people say, I mean.
They say that love is forever. That if you love someone enough, then they stay with you forever, because a part of you is always with them, and a part of them is always with you.
Bollocks.
I can’t remember how old I was when he left. Not fucking old enough, in my humble opinion. Sitting here now with him, seeing his dirty great big face from a totally new perspective, I couldn’t muster up any of the old love I’d once felt for him. So all that ‘forever’ stuff was a load of crap, then.
Because I had loved him. I’d loved him more than anything.
Now? Now I felt empty inside. Like all over. As if a part of me had been ripped out and when someone put it back, everything else had grown over the hole. I didn’t need him anymore, I realised. I didn’t need no one.
Barrett was unusually quiet. He sat hunched up and silent over a cup of coffee.
“I don’t know what to say, Marlene. Really I don’t.” he said softly. He did not take his eyes off the mug.
It was hard not to feel sorry for him. But then, I’d never been someone with much remorse.
“You could start with a ‘sorry’.” I answered icily.
He looked up. “That’s not the Marlene I used to know.” he muttered awkwardly.
“Ten years in a fucked up pile of shit does stuff to a person.” I replied.
His eyes widened, shocked that I had just sworn. He’d better get used to it. Bad language was my way of communicating.
“You’ve... changed.” he said, surprised.
I was amused by the hurt in his voice. Had he expected me to be his little angel after all these years? After seeing my ma getting raped and eaten alive by a horde of scavengers? Fat chance.
“So have you.” I said sourly. But I shook my head and shrugged. “Oh, wait. I guess you haven’t. Just like when Corel got destroyed, you left everyone in Midgar to rot.”
All at once he exploded. I’d forgotten how angry he could be. I could see I’d struck a nerve with Corel. I snapped my mouth shut as he ranted at me.
“You don’t know ANYTHING about that, Marlene!” he shouted. “God, that was... it was different-”
Suddenly, I was angry too. I raised my hand and swept the mug from the table. There was a dull clatter as it landed in some dark corner of the room.
“What the fuck is so different?” I screamed. “You left us to burn in fucking Shin-Ra hell while you and Dad ran off. You abandoned us there, and you’re doing the same thing to us now! What is the rest of the bloody world doing? Watching as we crawl about in scavenger infested crap? Why don’t you take off now, Barrett? It’ll save you the excuses when you come back in another ten years. I’ll be dead by then. Why don’t you run? Why don’t you just go and fucking run?”
He winced. So he’d noticed that I’d gone back to calling him Barrett, then. Not that I cared.
“Marlene, you gotta believe me...” he began feebly. “I was afraid you’d-”
I cut him off again. “Afraid?” I said bitterly. “You were afraid? You don’t know the meaning of afraid, Barrett. Really, you don’t. Afraid is when a rock the size of Midgar comes down on your head. Afraid is when you’re hiding from scavengers and they’re lunch is your ma. And you’re so afraid that you hope she fills them up nice and good so that you ain’t the next coarse. You don’t have a fucking clue about being afraid, Barrett. You don’t. You can’t...”
I was glad Michel came down then. If not, then I probably would have ended up strangling Barrett. Or trying too anyway.
“Scavengers...” Michel gasped, flinging me his rifle. I gaze him a frightened glance, saw he was crying. He got out his pistol and took three shots at the wall.
“They’re dead.” he said softly.
“Who?” I asked.
“Everyone!” he screamed. “We never had a chance, not a goddamn chance! Amanda... Joey... everyone... they’re all dead. God, they’re dead...”
He sat down and wept, grasping me tightly. I grimaced and held him close.
“Where?”
“Wall Street. It was a massacre... we tried to fend them off, but they were just everywhere. The men panicked, I think some of them ran. Those that did didn’t get very far.” He looked down at the floor, shame-faced. “I... I was scared, Marlene, I was scared and I ran, too. They tried to follow me here, but I don’t think they kept up.”
I looked at him. “What the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t think’?” I cried sharply.
awoo-ooo-ooo.
The scavengers. Michel was wrong.
“Oh, shit. Michel, you bastard. You’ve killed us all.”

* * * *

awoo-ooo-ooo.
“Damn it!” I shouted. Under my breath I cursed Michel repeatedly in the worst language I could think of.
“What do we do?” asked Michel in a soft, high voice. Shakily, he emptied and then reloaded his gun from a small leather pouch at his side.
“I haven’t a clue. Not a fucking clue.”
I grabbed the rifle and flicked my short hair at the stairs in front of me.
“But we ain’t got a chance here. Our best bet is to make a run for the border and get the hell out of Midgar all together.”
His eyes widened. “W-What? Are you crazy?” He laughed shakily, stopped when he saw my face.
“I wasn’t joking. We’ve got a chance. Fifty-fifty at best. And we’re dead if we stay here any longer. Are you coming?”
He paused. I screwed my face up and shouted at him.
“Hurry up, shit-brains! I ain’t got all day!”
“But it’s crazy! No one’s gone out since It happened! We don’t even know if-”
“This guys been out.” I answered, trying to sound casual. There was another cry, painfully near. a-whoo-ooo-ooo.
Michel stared openly at Tyler, the eyes behind his cracked glasses widened ‘till they were the size of eggs.
“You’ve been outside? Are you crazy?”
“It’s better than this place.” said Barrett gruffly.
“You mean... it’s not all blown up?” he asked slowly.
“Uh-huh. Shouldn’t we get outta here?”
But Michel didn’t listen. He stared hard at the wall, and shook his head.
“All these years, we’ve been afraid to go outside. Ten years, dammit. Ten years of us crawling about, living off cats and dogs while our families get killed by the scavengers. All this time, I’ve been telling people not to leave. Shit, what have I done?”
I grunted, looked up at the stairs again nervously. I, no sorry, we didn’t have time for all this bullshit. Michel should just get over it. Like everyone did. You don’t share your pain: you live with it. If it doesn’t kill you, it’ll make you stronger, that’s what I’ve always said.
“I wouldn’t go sayin’ the world outside is fine...” began Barrett. He glanced uneasily at Michel and then back to me. I shrugged, grabbed Michel by the arm, said, “Come on.”
He got up as the first scavenger shuffled down the stairs.
None of us had seen it coming. I’d been too busy looking at Michel. Barrett... well, I don’t know what the heck he was doing at that time. But it wasn’t watching the door. He gave a startled cry and fell backwards. The scavenger gave a piercing shriek and ran forwards.
The rifle was heavy, slow.  I tried to raise it to shoot the damn thing, but it knocked me down and sent me flying. The rifle clattered to the floor and lay motionless a few metres away.
Michel’s Colt made the air explode around me with a shot that rattled my ears. Once, twice, three times the scavenger spun in the air, dancing slowly to some fatal beat as blood sprayed from his head. Then it flopped down motionless on the table, the weight of it’s last charge buckling the wooden legs and sending the whole thing crashing to the floor.
Barrett rolled the thing over, looked at me with disgust contorting his face.
“It’s jus’ a little girl.” he said. “‘Bout your age.”
“Was.” I corrected, scooping up the rifle and bolting for the stairs. “Once meteor hit, the  Reactors did bad things to the people. Changed them. More become scavengers every year. I think the grounds saturated with the Mako from the plants.”
Barrett stood motionless. Though I swear a small smile crept up on his face. Couldn’t blame him. Now he was justified in blowing up that Reactor all those years ago. Or maybe he wasn’t. At the precise moment I didn’t want to think. Every cell I had was screaming live!
I turned to Michel. “You coming? There’s nothing left here.”
He opened his mouth to protest. “But we could-”
“We could what?” I sneered. “All these years, sweating blood on this pile of crap, and it was for nothing. This is scavenger land, now. It took them ten years to kill us, but they did it. Bastards.”
For the first time, it hit me that everyone was dead. They were dead. It seemed to be affecting Michel more than me, but still, I felt strange. Like I’d just died, too. Or been born. I wasn’t sure which.
“Michel, I know this sounds bad, but... they’re dead. They ain’t got anything more to lose. It’s terrible, but just be glad it wasn’t you. That’s the only way to think of it.”
I turned and ran up the stairs.
This wasn’t going to be easy.

* * * *

Crack.
My rifle shook my arm up so bad that I kneaded my shoulder before firing again.
Crack, crack, crack.
The bullets were wild shots. In the Mako Fog you couldn’t see ten metres in front of you. Hopefully, at least some of the million scavengers chasing each other would think twice about it.
a-whoo-ooo.
Well, I had a lot of time in which to think, right then, as Michel fumbled desperatly with the door controls. Barrett had said that he’d come through a few hundred metres up. Apparantly there was a crack in the wall he was able to get over. But we couldn’t see how far away the scavengers were. And I didn’t trust him, anyway. Not yet.
So there we sat, me and Barrett, me taking potshots at any of the scavengers that were stupid enough to haze into my vision, and Barrett sitting calmly on a bent and twisted girder. I wondered why he didn’t use the big gun on his arm.
I first saw a scavenger when I was ten. Since then, I get chased by them almost every day. But chased is a lot different to hunted. A lot different, believe me. Now, I was cornered with nowhere to run to. And I was scared. Shitless.
I don’t know exactly what the hell they are, only that they used to be people. Old man Trisk turned into one a few years ago. A lot of people do these days. Usually we let them go, or they sneak out when we tried to put them in the infimary.
It takes a while, sometimes years, for you to change. It starts off small, like bluey patches of skin, bad tempers, occasional fights. But then the blue spreads. It’s more like green, really. Like the colour of the fog. Then you get these big red veins just under your skin. After that... well, you’re a scaveneger and no one can save you.
They’re big: about six foot tall, with long arms which make them stoop and scuffle along the floor. Lots of them get large eyes and horrid, contorted mouths with lips stained black. They’re also strong: can break through just about anything given enough time and if there’s enough of them. But they’re stupid. And they aren’t organised, that’s for sure. We would’ve gone a long time ago if they were.
I don’t know what the hell has come over them all. Every single scavenger in goddamned Midgar is thirsting for our blood. I shivered when I thought of the Shankes’ group. Those fools didn’t even carry guns. Weren’t necessary, they said. It must have been like lambs to the slaughter.
“A few minutes more...” mumbled Michel, his tool kit spread out alongside him in a messy heap. “Hold them off for two more minutes.”
I knew we wouldn’t be able to. That was just my luck.
As if on cue, all at once the scavengers descended on us, appearing out of the fog like some crawling horror.
With a cry, Michel raised his Colt.

* * * *

I swore and grabbed it off him. “Take the rifle.” I grunted. “Keep working on the bloody door.”
I raised the Colt. There was no aiming, you just fired into them. They fell down one by one. It was pathetic, really, even shooting. There must have been a hundred of them. They shuffled forward slowly. A few of them laughed. A threw down the Colt, screamed and threw up, sick of my own helplessness. Empty shell casings littered the floor around me.
The scavengers were thirty metres away, now. Two hundred of the greeny-blue fuckers. I looked at Barrett, imploringly, begging him to do something. Anything.
“Please.”
They started to run in huge, galloping strides that covered the ground between us in alarming shortness. Michel gasped and raised the rifle, shooting wildly and felling a few before turning back to the door and blasting at the controls with a round. But this wasn’t a film. It was real. And the door just fizzed and stayed shut.
What happened next, I can’t remember very well. The scavengers were suddenly upon us, sharp nails and fanged teeth sinking into my flesh and causing me to scream with agony. I flailed about vainly, arms striking gooey green flesh and huge, bulging eyes. Air came in snatches, and for a few seconds, I panicked, knowing that this was it. This was the end.
A rogue punch hit me in the side and sent me flying out of the vicious ring. I rolled feebly to one side, looking at the thick, sloppy spirals of blood clotting on the floor. Feeling the Mako Fog crawl over me and turn everything numb. Hearing screams. Michel dying.
Then I blacked out, overcome by the sensation that I was rising, rising into the sky and leaving my frail shell of a body behind.
My mind left to wander over the white clouds around me.

* * * *

I woke after a considerable time unconcious. I didn’t know exactly how long it was, but judging from how stiff my entire body was, I’d say at least six hours.
I groaned and tried to sit. Then groaned again and sank back down to the floor. I opened one eye and looked around. To my surprise, I saw grass beneath me. And trees ahead and covering the sun above. God, I hadn’t seen trees in... what, ten years? It’s strange what you miss. It’s usually the little things. Like clouds and birds and grass and trees and the wind.
I groaned again, louder this time, and wondered how I got here. There wasn’t anyone in sight. Where was everyone? Where the hell was Midgar?
Shit, I was lost. And I hadn’t even taken a step in a wrong direction.
Who go me here? Barrett?
Must have been, I thought morosely. Michel was gone. Dead. Dead, or a scavenger. And I knew most definatly what was worse.
Michel, damn. Now I was the only one left.
My thought was stopped by some scuffling in the bushes, and then a thick, accented man’s voice speaking.
“Where did they go?”
“Fuck knows.” said another man.
“Good. I got no intention of getting killed now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t you hear?” said the other man, who had a slightly higher tone. “The scouts swore they saw Barrett Wallace carrying some girl over about here. Do you have any idead how tough that guy is, Lee? Just last week he took down one of our fucking platoons. By himself.”
I felt a small feeling of pride. That my Dad was a hardass. But I slapped myself mentally immeadiatly after that. He’s not your Dad, Marlene. He’s just someone from a long time ago who doesn’t give a damn.
“Christ.” muttered Lee. “What about the girl?”
“Dunno. Let’s have a look around.”
Silence. Then, a bush parted a few metres in front of me and Lee (or what I supposed was Lee) jumped out.
He was big, too. Not quite as large as Barrett, but then not many people were. He had a pale, but well-toned body with a small round head cropped by a mound of thick, curly hair. He had cold, blue eyes and a thin smile. His face was covered in a rough stubble that was a pastel brown colour. He stopped dead a few seconds after he saw me, grinned and wiped the sweat from his neck with a dirty finger.
“Art, I found the other one.” he called into the undergrowth.
I took one look at the large rifle slung over his shoulder and ran.
Lee cursed and took off after me. I had to scramble up on two feet and so he was virtually onn top of me immeadiatly. I swore at him and twisted desperatly to the side as he hurled his body towards me. With a sharp cry he smashed into the tree I was propped up against and rolled face upwards, nose streaming blood and caked with mud and leaves.
I laughed and swung my heavily booted foot into his groin.
Lee turned even paler and let out a short, agonising scream before he stuffed his face  back into the ground and gasped air in heaving breaths.
“You... bitch.” he spluttered in agony.
“Yeah, yeah.” I answered, grinning. “Just make another fucking move and I’ll do it again. Try me, prick.”
I was enjoying myself now. I thought I was pretty cool just then. But, of coarse, that monmental feeling of triumph is always short-lived.
Art came out of the woods behind me and knocked me senseless with a single punch. I never even saw him. Bastard didn’t give me a chance. I hit the deck, black and red spots crawling about my vision. I reached out to my head, crying, and found blood. I blacked out.

* * * *

Art was an ugly son-of-a-bitch. He was thin, too thin, and tall. He had a gawky, scarred, dirty face with slimy black hair. But he was strong. When I finally came to he gave me a hard slap round the face that stung like hell afterward.
“That’s for crushin’ Lee’s bollocks.” he spat. “Poor sod ain’t gonna have children cos of you, bitch.”
“Fuck you.” I managed to answer feebly back.
He raised his fist and struck me hard on the nose. I screamed in pain, nearly threw up when I heard the cartilage splinter. Blood stremed down my face and I tasted the salty stuff in my throat.
This time I said nothing. Just cried as he stood there while I lay on the floor helpless. He grinned.
“Your learning fast. Don’t ever answer back to anyone if you want to keep your pretty young face pretty. Ever.”
I almost fainted again from the combined pain of my broken nose and my aching head. I was too preoccupied with breathing to notice where I was. Another man came along, said something to me I didn’t hear, and then started to dab at my nose with a white hankerchief. With a crunch he set my nose back in it’s proper position. I blacked out again.

* * * *

It took me a few days to figure out where I was. The people (I don’t know who they actually were), were pretty kind. Except Art. And I didn’t see Lee again. He must have stayed well clear from then on.
I was in Kalm. And there were a lot of people like me. I tried to chat up the boys my age, but I didn’t too well with a huge cast on my nose. I probably would’ve still been crap even without it. So in the end I just gave up and hung around the shops, staring wistfully at the large array of weapons and wishing I had one so I could blast my way outta there.
But security was tight: four men kitted out with heavy weapons stood at the entrance, and thick barbed wire covered the road. And the worst reason was, that I’d no idea of why I was a prisoner. I hadn’t done anything wrong, I knew that much. But perhaps Barrett had, wiping out one of their platoons. I guess they’d be pretty pissed if he had. I know I would be.
It took a few days to get what information I could from the other prisoners. But they didn’t seem to know any more than I did. Only that they’d been captured, and then brought here. ‘We’re not prisoners.’ said one man. ‘We’re free to go anywhere we please.’
Except outside, I had answered. He’d said nothing to that. Some kind of fucked up freedom, in my opinion.
So I waited, bored, doing nothing except doing what I was told. A few months passed slowly, each day grinding past me. And like a train screeching to a halt, each grind was slower and longer until they seemed to stop completely. And I did nothing, frightened that Art would come again and break my nose again. Or something. I was too scared to think what.
But he did come back. And when he did, my heart sank into my stomach and then down some more, into my gut and then down to my legs and then my toes, and finally it left my body completely and I was just empty, with nothing warming me except a icy feeling where my heart used to be. He smirked when he saw me, grinned when he looked at my slightly crooked nose. It looked good on me, he said. I would’ve told the prick to fuck off, but my mouth wouldn’t move. The icy feeling stopped it.
“They want to see you, babe.” he said, reaching out to stroke my bent nose. I shivered and almost wretched. But still, the icy feeling stopped me from kicking his ass.
Then he was angry at me, perhaps because he realised then that my spirit was crushed, or that I was afraid of him. Or pehaps that I wasn’t resisting his advance. The asshole was probably used to much more of a fight. He gave me a short, vicious slap across the cheek that ripped my face to the left. I kept it there, tasting the familiar taste of blood in my mouth. My cheek stung and I felt tears in my eyes. I wanted to scream Why? but I couldn’t move, couldn’t breath.
Even as he shoved me down the street to the Main Building, I felt nothing but the pain of the slap. And the shame.
In books (Michel used to read them to me, ‘cause I can’t read) people usually finish by saying they felt empty, hollow, a shell of a person. But instead, I felt like bursting. With hate and agony and misery and embaressment all at once, it threatened to make my head swell and explode. I shut my eyes to keep it in.
I walked stiffly into the door as he opened it for me and pushed me inside.
 

Chapter Two: Onde Estás
 

Three people stood waiting to greet me. One of them, the only woman, frowned when she saw the small trickle of blood that dribbled from my lip. She whispered something to another, scruffier man with thick red-brown hair. He nodded and looked accusingly at Art. Immeadiatly, the greasy man’s smile faded.
“You were told not to harm her.” he said quietly. I stood rigidly, my eyes flicking over the three people in the room. Art’s voice came from behind me.
“She was difficult.” he complained. “She’s her fathers son alright.”
I noticed a small tremor in his voice that hadn’t been there before.
“Still.” said the other man scornfully. “You were told. And warned of the consequences.”
Art started to explain. “Yes, sir, I know, but you said-”
He never got to finish his excuse.
I barely saw the gun in his hand, but the blue-suited man raised and fired off three shots before Art even got to scream. There was a disgusting noise, barely audible under the gunshot, and I felt liquid splatter against my shorts. I hoped it was just blood. I swore I could feel something vaguely twitching against my shoe. But my eyes were riveted to the three left. The man with the gun smiled coldly at me, and slowly put the gun away.
“I’m sorry.” said the woman. “Did he break your nose?”
Was it that obvious? Unconciously I touched my nose, was alarmed to feel the bend more profoundly this time. Dumbly, I nodded.
“The Doctor didn’t set it well.” said the woman. “But then, I guess he wanted payback for what you did to Lee. You know he had to perform a castration on him when we got him back? The Doctor was not happy.”
“He deserved it.” I said feebly, finding my voice at last. “Who are you people, anyway?”
The other man, a baldie with black glasses and a neatly trimmed goatee, smiled. “Oh, you wouldn’t know us. But we know you, Marlene.”
I wasn’t too surprised that they knew my name. I let it show, said: “What do you want?”
The man laughed. “You don’t even want to know our names?”
“I’m Elena.” said the blonde woman, attempting a degree of friendliness. I don’t see how, they’d just blown a man to pieces behind me and left half of his remains in my hair.
“Reno.” said the man with the gun nochalently.
“I’m Rude.” said the one with glasses. “And you asked what we wanted?”
“I’m guessing it’s not me.” I said. “If it was, I’d be in three pieces like Art.”
“Very perceptive of you.” said Elena, glancing at her nails. “In fact, the only thing that saved us from shooting you was the fact that you are Marlene Wallace, Barrett Wallace’s daughter.”
I had known it from the start, really. Ever since Art had said Barrett had nailed that platoon I knew they’d been in some sort of confrontation. Now, they were going to use me to get to Barrett. If he bothered coming to rescue me, that was. Otherwise, I could be here for a very long time...
“You’ve got it all wrong.” I said. “He’s not my father.”
Elena smiled. “No?”
“No, you stupid fucking whore. I said he’s not my father. You got a fucking problem?”
I was getting more confidant, now that I’d realised they needed me. Cocky, even.
Elena didn’t gasp. Didn’t even look up from her nails. “You were much sweeter as a kid.”
My eyes widened in surprise. I’d known this slag when I was a kid? Keep on task, Marlene. She’s just saying that to throw you off guard.
“Fuck you.”
Suddenly, Elena was moving. Striding towards me in short, bounding leaps. I let out a short scream as she pulled out a pistol and rammed it into my chin.
“You want me to do more than break your nose?” she hissed.
“Bitch.” I spluttered.
Smiling, Elena kept the pistol exactly where it was.
“Don’t think for a second I won’t kill you. Barrett will come to us if he knows you are here. And no one but him will no that you will be dead by then.”
That shut me up. I hadn’t figured on that, and I felt terrified. Worse than when the scavengers were closing in, because I was already caught and scheduled for execution. Never before was I hopeless and alone. Where are you, Barrett? You said you’d always be there. But you’re not. You’re never there when I need you.
“Why do you want him?” I asked. It was all I could think of. And I had to have some answers.
“Why do you think?” asked Reno, walking past me to kick what I presume were the tattered remains of Art to the corner. I realised then that Reno was dangerous as hell. He’d killed Art for no reason: as Elena said, it didn’t really matter to them if I was dead or not. So why the hell blow apart one of his men for breaking my nose? He was dangerous, insane. I felt sorry for Art, no one deserved to die. Not like that.
My thoughts went back to Michel. How he had been ripped apart by the scavengers. I still remembered his screams, like they were burned inside my skull. And a dull, aching feeling that that could have been me. That could have been me.
He’d always shown me with respect. In reality, he was my only friend. And I’d loved him for that: his simple judge of people. He was the only one who could see through everyone. Like piercing the shroud of Mako fog around our hearts.
Rude took off his sunglasses, and I stared numbly at his strange, steel-coloured eyes.
“You’re free to do what you want, Marlene. Until Barrett comes, that is. After that... well, you may regret calling Elena a bitch.”
Reno came from behind and took me out. I heaved, threw up in the gutter when I thought of everything. Of Art’s body, of Michel’s screams, of my own death, and most of all of Barrett. Where are you, Barrett? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

* * * *

In the books Michel read to me, books end with a happy ending.
Growing up in Midgar, I never doubted for a second that this was a dream. That one, terrible day we would finally all wake up. And then, maybe, everything would be all right.
Standing here now, scribbling down my life on this notepad I stole from the shops, there isn’t a happy ending. No one came to save me. Barrett left me to rot in this shit hole. Just like he did before. Just like he always will.
I remember in the Church, when I shouted and screamed for him to leave. Well, I guess you took my advice, Barrett. I guess you fucked off somewhere and left your little girl to die.
If you’re reading this, then you’ve come back. But it’ll probably be too late. I’ll be dead by then. Perhaps we’ll all be. Scavengers are starting to come out of Midgar now. Pretty soon the town will be crawling with the bastards.
I wasn’t much of a little girl to you, was I? But you can’t understand what I saw, Barrett. What I keep on seeing. Three weeks ago a man got blown apart in front of my face. I’m sixteen, Barrett, but I feel sixty. Funny, how I look so young but I feel older than you. I wasn’t much of a daughter, but then you never gave me the chance. Maybe if you’d stuck around a bit longer, everything would be fine. At least I would have died knowing you loved me.
You probably do, I know, I know. But it’s hard for me to accept that. All I’ve ever had to deal with in my life is misery and death.
I didn’t tell you, but I used to pray that you’d come back and rescue me. When ma died, I had no one. Nothing left but you.
It’s dark, now. And it’s hard trying to see. I just wrote things down because... oh, I don’t really know. Shit. It’s funny what the mind craves. And I really wanted to understand why this happened, and why you left.
But life goes on. Perhaps you’ve got a wife, children, and you don’t remember me anymore. But I want you to remember me, Barrett. I’ve seen so much pain, I need to share it with someone before I becomes too much to bear.
You don’t notice things chaging. People changing. And we do change. Oh, yes. Now I realise that it wasn’t you, it was me. I was the one who was different. For that, I’m sorry.
I’ve been sittin here for a long time, now. My hands are stiff and I don’t have anymore stories to tell. I thought I’d feel better doing this, but everything is the same, now. Only the outside changes.
I’m cold. So tired I could sleep forvever. And hungry. There are ways of making money in this town, but... I’ll die before I become what ma was. Call it pride. Call it vanity. I guess, deep down inside, I’m little Marlene after all.
I love you, Dad.
Huh, I can’t believe I just wrote that. I love you, though. From the little Marlene inside, and from me, too. Whoever I am.
Think of it as a joint good-bye from the two of us.
 

To Part 2

To Main Menu