Chapter One: Virtue
“Heaven on Earth,
We need it now.
I’m sick of all of this hanging around.
Sick of sorrow, sick of pain, sick of hearing again and again
That there’s gonna be,
Peace on Earth.”
This was getting to be a problem.
I stared down at the three dead scavenger corpses laying at my feet,
and then back at the seven dead men behind me.
The battle had been short, and bloody. The things had caught us off
guard, attacking as we changed the guard. I picked up a crackling radio
lying discarded on the floor and wiped the thin fleks of blood away from
the reciever. Static blasted in my ear.
“... a’n’t... bastard... must have got in... where th... is he...”
Shit. I threw down the radio and kicked one of the dead men in the
face.
“Shit, what the fuck where you watching out for when you let one of
them into the town? We got enough fucking problems with the prisoners.”
His eyes stared blankly up at me, frozen in a mask of pain, as if to
say ‘It wasn’t me.’ Wincing, I glanced down at his body, and then at his
arm lying a few metres away. The poor sod must have bled to death.
Holstering my magnum and picking up a semi-automatic from a frozen
grip, I ran quickly back into the town and looked about for a few soldiers.
One came bursting out of a house, flustered and scared.
“The scaveneger isn’t here, sir!” he said smartly, saluting when he
saw me.
I shrugged. “Radio to the squads, tell them I’ll ge the fucker.”
He nodded curtly. “Yes, sir!”
I turned my back to him, jabbing my thumb to the entrance.
“And clean up the entrance. Looks are everything, right?”
It was a lousy excuse. Truly, I didn’t want the troops to realise our
asses were getting kicked by these freaky bastards. But I’m good at lying.
Call it one of my virtues.
With a nod, the boy ran off to clean up the bodies. He looked fifteen.
Perhaps less.
Shit, I hated how low we were stooping. It’s hard to find a person
these days, let alone a 20-year old man who can shoot a gun. So we had
to make do, Elena said. Make do, and bide our time.
But I’m not stupid. And at the rate we lose men, waiting isn’t gonna
do us much good in another six months.
Ten years ago, when Meteor had hit, I’d considered myself goddamned
lucky to survive. Let alone find a working Shin-Ra ‘copter and ride it
out here with Elena and Rude.
Now, I wish I’d died along with the rest of the Planet. There’s nothing
left for us now but a slow death. Everyone else got it quick.
But someday, when I get old and weak, I ain’t gonna be able to get
first pick of the food. People ain’t gonna give me any respect. I’ll be
left to struggle and fend for myself. I’ll die on the streets alone, cold
and hungry. I knew it was gonna happen and it scared the shit outta me.
And what would people remember me for? Six months ago (it all seems
a dream) I blew away Art. For what? He broke a bitchy slag’s nose. I would
probably have done the same: that girl was mouthy... but cute. Perhaps
I could...
Nah. But it would be good to get Barrett’s daughter under my belt.
It would make it all the sweeter when I finally blew his braind out to
say ‘I fucked your daughter’.
I’d spoken to the other two, and even said it to the troops. No one
kills Barrett but me. No one. That prick was starting to seriously get
on my nerves.That whole AVALANCHE bunch did. If it weren’t for them, then
I’d be ruler of the whole fucking Planet by now. Not that that would be
anything much to be proud of. There ain’t much left of the Planet to rule,
honestly.
Anyway, I thought bitterly as I emptied the automatics bullets and
slapped a knew clip in. Anyway, it’s their fault in the first place. If
they had killed Sephiroth, then this whole thing wouldn’t have happened.
They should have left it to us, damn them.
Apparently, though, they did kill Sephiroth. But Meteor hit anyway.
Yeah, my ass. What a joke! It was slightly obvious they were doing that
to get the remaining men who hadn’t chosen a side to join them. But it
weren’t gonna work. Elena had set up Neo-Shin-Ra well. People wanted togo
back to the old ways, what they remembered of the old ways, anyway. And
it was remarkable how everyone conveniently forgot the bad parts of the
old Shin-Ra corporation. How easy it had been easy to tell the young ones
of how Shin-Ra had risen up against the iron-fisted rule of AVALANCHE,
and spread a fresh blossom of freedom and peace across the world. Even
the older ones were starting to believe. It seemed that they needed to
forget how they had been forced to work as mindless slaves in the past.
It seemed easier just to blame it on AVALACHE, anyway. And people need
hope, I suppose. A belief that everything will be all right if they just
pretend and forget everything bad ever happened...
Fools. Even Elena and Rude. Once I had considered them able companions.
Even friends.
But they were weak, they weren’t fighters. None of them saw reality
for what it was. It was sickening how they accepted it. They embraced death
with eager arms and waited for it to sweep them away from sensation. It’s
the only cure for the bitter disease of life.
But life isn’t a disease, it’s not even real. It’s just a dream, or
a nightmare. Or both. Whatever it was, I was stuck in it and there was
no way I was gonna ever wake up.
A man in his mid-forties rushed up to me wheezing, his thin hair standing
upright in the viscous wind.
“Sir, I think we found it...”
“Good.” I smiled, striding past him with a huge step and up to the
men glancing anxiously at a deserted house.
“We heard screaming in here a few minutes ago. Then nothing. Someone
went in a few minutes ago, and he hasn’t come back.”
It was in there, then.
The soldiers let me through easily. I watched them eye me cautiously.
They’d heard of what I did to Art. But I didn’t care, because death is
fear. And fear is power, after all.
The heavy oak door opened with a creak. Quickly, I pulled off the safety
catch and raised the automatic to cover the hallway.
The scavenger was definatly here. A thick, deep set of scatch marks
had slashed open a fading picture of Kalm. Tattered shards of canvas were
strewn on the floor. To my left, a vase lay in three shattered pieces on
a small, wooden table.
It was very dark. I sat alone with the silence for a while, trying
to judge where the creature might be. Surely, it wouldn’t know I was here?
Would it?
I suddenly wondered whether this was a clever idea. Scavengers were
strong. It was doubtful I could win against such a creature, even with
my gun. And especially in such an enclosed space. Hell, it could even be
above my head right now.
Unnerved by the thought, I gazed up and checked the ceiling. Nothing
there.
I wondered what had happened to the people in the house. And the soldier
who went in a few minutes ago. He must have been thinking the same things
as I was then. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, and I dispelled it with a
shake of my head. I clutched the gun tighter.
I knew it was blood the moment I saw it. A thick pool of liquid, almost
black in the poor light. I went over to it and stuck my finger in cautiously.
Warm.
So this was the soldier, then. At least I knew he was dead. Or was
he? I saw a small, thin line of blood splashed on the carpet, it trailed
into the kitchen and out of my vision. Cautiously, I followed the trail.
The soldier was in the kitchen, sprawled over the worksurface. He was
dead. Looked like his throat had been cut. I turned him over, winced when
I heard a small can clatter clumsily to the floor. Shit. I hoped it hadn’t
made too mcuh noise.
I took a deep breath when I saw the state of the man’s front. A chisel-like
blow had cracked his ribs open, leaving his chest a bloody mass of organs.
I looked at his heart spasming weakly, about once every thrity seconds.
He can’t of died long ago. That meant the thing was down here. Watching
me, perhaps.
I swept through the following rooms, my breathing ragged and harsh.
The adrenalin pumping through my body was incredible. The body supplies
the greatest narcotics. The house was small, and in a few minutes I stood,
dissatisfied, looking up at the large, ominous stairs. There was nowhere
else to look.
I thought of the dead man, and shuddered. Where was the family? The
Perrson’s lived here. Perhaps they’d made it out. Or, they were upstairs.
I grimaced when I recalled the cheerful family. Little Nina was four years
old. Jesus Christ.
Confidant that I had checked everywhere except the few rooms upstairs,
I moved cautiously onto the first step, my mind slowing down and taking
in time millisecond by millisecond.
There was a sratching noise that lasted for a fraction of a second,
and in that time my mind realised the horrific mistake I had made.
I hadn’t checked underneath.
Then the world exploded into violence, and the ground beneath my feet
buckled and snapped. With a sharp cry, I plummeted down and into the inky
blackness of the celler. My mind reeled as I saw the splinters of rotten
wood driveinto my side. I landed on top of the scavenger, my gun spinning
from my grip and flying to the side.
I swung a fist at what I thought was it’s face. My hand sunk into it’s
brittle flesh, and it screamed. I’ve never heard a scavenger scream before.
a-whoo-oo-oo.
I heaved upwards, throwing me up against the ruined floorboards with
such force that they almost cracked. Instead, I felt a jab of agony as
my ribs cracked and I fell back down to the floor.
Lucky for me, my eyes are good. Even in the dust I saw the glint of
its claw sweeping up to my chest. I twisted to the right and the scavenger
went flying past me.