Gunpowder and Firecrackers

III. Reno


Reno hated lying.

He hated lying even more than he hated letting his enemies live, and both friend and foe knew his skills in combat. But as he headed east on the long, low motorcycle that hummed under his hands and whipped the wind into his face as it roared down the newly paved road from Corel to Costa del Sol, he thought again of Tifa, and his "accidental" slip as he'd let her know that it was not Wutai that Rude was headed toward.

Why had he done it? He wasn't quite sure. Rude was still his best pal after all these years, and he knew that Rude would have wanted more than anything to keep this a secret from Tifa even if Rufus hadn't ordered it. But something about it just wasn't right. Tifa had been hurt more than anyone, and Reno didn't think that keeping this a secret from her was something that would pan out in the long run.

It was just one of those feelings that he got sometimes.

The pistol hanging from his belt was heavy and completely unnecessary, but Rufus had insisted he carry it anyway. It was practically antique, taken from Rufus' secret storage closet the night before Reno had headed out, and when he'd examined it carefully after going back to his rooms, he saw that the old Shinra markings were still finely engraved into the silver hilt. For some reason, that made him even more uneasy than he had been before about this whole thing.

Rufus hadn't explained anything. He'd told Reno to deliver a parcel of papers two days ago to the new-city sprawl of Baring just south of Corel, and then said that Reno was to be on vacation for the next week. Mandatory vacation, he emphasized. On no conditions are you to come back to Corel until you're finished relaxing. That's an order. Reno had been sorely tempted to open that parcel of papers before he'd thrown them in an unmarked mailbox on some shady side-street in the Baring slums, but he'd resisted the urge and sped out of the city with even more questions.

Perhaps Rufus had intended for him and Rude to talk. Or perhaps he thought that sending Reno on mandatory vacation would stop them from talking. Whatever the case, Reno wasn't about to let his best friend get the upper hand, and Rude hadn't been too recalcitrant. They'd arranged to meet in a week in Costa del Sol, and Reno had decided that he'd worm the whole thing out of Rude one way or another.

It was another half hour before he saw the charming gates of the seaside town in the distance, another ten minutes before he had his bike parked outside one of the newer taverns lining the sunny, narrow, cobblestone streets and was seated at the bar downing a drink. Tseng had always disapproved of him drinking and driving, but if Rude showed up, Reno wasn't planning on doing any driving for a couple of hours anyway.

He cupped the glass in his hands and studied the bar's clientele. This early in the afternoon, there wasn't anyone but a couple of hard-nosed drunks slumped in the corner by the far wall, a cute little waitress in a flouncy apron taking orders from a couple in loud matching flowery shirts and sandals. Reno pursed his lips and whistled softly to pass the time, a little ditty he'd learned from a rundown bar somewhere in Edge a few years ago.

So far away from my home, sweet home
Day by day, from land to land I roam
Though told by the wind which way to go,
Oh, how I long for my home, sweet home.

The door to the bar slammed open.

At first, Reno didn't recognize Rude with his face half-covered in blood and one arm hanging limply at his side. He leapt from his chair, knocking his drink over and sending it crashing to the floor in a shower of glass. "Hey man," he said, easing his friend back against the bar, ripping part of his sleeve from his already tattered shirt, mopping up the blood as best as he could. Most of it was dried, caked so thickly around Rude's mouth he could barely speak. "Call an ambulance!" Reno yelled at the bartender, who was already backing away to the bar's only phone behind the counter. Rude moaned, raising one hand to his face, and then swollen eyes opened slightly.

"Re...no?" he whispered.

"I'm here, dude, you're gonna be ok," Reno said. "I got people coming. What the hell happened to you?"

"Nibel..." Rude said, and then stopped, gasping for breath. The door banged open and a few men rushed down the stairs with a stretcher.

Nibelheim, thought Reno with a sudden frightened anger. Rufus was right. The men eased Rude onto the stretcher and Rude grasped Reno's hand with a grip so crushingly strong that Reno barely refrained from crying out. There was something else in that grip, something cold and metallic and pointed, and as the men rushed back up the stairs with their burden, Reno opened his hand slowly and stared at the object there.

The topmost point of the star pendant had pierced the skin of one finger and blood oozed out of the surface cut. But that wasn't what Reno noticed - it was the little surface pockmarks on the face of the star pendant, the marks which indicated that it had seen years of wear and tear. He turned it over, saw the markings scratched on the back of the metal.

AVALANCHE

"Well damn," he said.

--

They told him Rude was ready for visitors a few hours later, that he'd needed surgery to repair a broken arm and some painkillers for the swelling, but there had been no serious injuries and they'd checked him out of Costa del Sol's tiny hospital and moved him to Reno's hotel room. That was fine, Reno thought. Rude had a lot of explaining to do.

"If you didn't look like shit, I'd punch you in the face," he told his partner pointedly, staring down at the bandaged-swathed form lying prostrate on the bed.

"Hello," Rude said around the bandages. "I see I've been missed."

"You've got some serious explaining to do," Reno said. "I'd wait until you had something to eat and maybe a nap, but with the shape you're in, I doubt we can afford to wait. What happened?"

Rude coughed. "Help me sit up," he said. Reno frowned at him. "I'm ok," the big man assured him. "A broken arm and a black eye is not going to hurt me if I sit for a bit."

"You can start by explaining this," Reno said, pushing Rude against the bed pillows and dangling the star pendant in front of him at eye level. "I've read the back of it. I know what it says. Cloud always carried this with him when he was going anywhere."

Rude closed his eyes briefly. "Yes," he said. "He did. Sit down, Reno."

"Can't. My legs are itchy," Reno said, but he sat impatiently. "Spill."

"Rufus had one of those dreams that he couldn't ignore. I know Strife used to get them too. I don't know if it was the spirit of that Ancient girl again, or aftereffects of Mako. He came to me the next day and said I had to go to Nibelheim, and I was not to tell Tifa."

"The dream?" Reno prodded, but Rude shook his head.

"He didn't say. From the fact that he told me I shouldn't tell Tifa, I assumed it had to do with Strife's whereabouts - dead or alive. I stopped by Midgar to give Tifa the ring before I headed out. I figured that it was now or never. I didn't want to be sucked into Nibelheim by whatever had gotten Cloud and not had the chance to tell her. I left early the next day. I told her I was going to Wutai. It took me two days to get to Nibelheim."

"Right," Reno said, the uneasy feeling creeping over him again. "So?"

Rude took a deep breath. "Nibelheim's no longer there."

Reno blinked. "Say again?"

"You heard me," Rude said harshly, staring out the window. "The town's vanished."

"You're not saying it was burned down again."

Rude shook his head jerkily. "Burning, like Sephiroth did, leaves evidence. This time it was like there was nothing there in the first place. There's no ruins, no evidence of civilization, nothing. There's a bunch of jagged rocks and boulders that hadn't been there before, like there was an earthquake."

"You're sure you went to the right place," Reno said, clutching the pendant.

Rude smiled sardonically through swollen lips. "My navigation skills haven't deteriorated that much in the last few years," he said. "I even checked the electronic maps, just in case. Nibelheim's gone."

"Well," Reno said, for once at a loss for words. "Shit."

"I walked around the place once or twice just in case. I found a cave. It must have been where the old Shinra mansion used to be. I went in so I could have something to report. It serves me right for not listening to my instincts."

"I'm guessing you found this inside," Reno said, gesturing to the pendant.

"Just inside the entrance," Rude said. "I turned on my light and kept going in. The place was like a maze. I was about to head back out when I heard a noise. Like a fool, I went to investigate."

He stopped. Reno clutched the pendant again. "Rude?"

"There's something living down in that cave," Rude said. "I don't know what it is. I don't think I want to know."

"Is it...human?"

Rude's eyes were haunted. "I don't know. I couldn't see it clearly except for the eyes. The eyes..." He trailed off.

Reno bent over the bed, voice hard. "Rude, man, you gotta pull yourself together. We're all in this with you, and if there's some new monster living inside of there that's swallowed Nibelheim whole, I think it's as much of a threat as we've seen in some time."

"It...spoke to me," Rude said. "The voice...it was Cloud's voice."

--

Rude fell asleep somewhere in the late afternoon and Reno let him sleep, wandering the halls of the motel with Cloud's pendant in his pocket. A monster out of the dark, with Cloud's voice and Cloud's eyes. The shadow of it had been too big to be truly human, Rude had said. The thought of the remembered conversation sent chills down Reno's spine, but it wasn't something he could just afford to push away.

He should call headquarters and inform Rufus and Tseng of the circumstances, but he wasn't about to take his chances on a regular phone. He was on vacation, after all, and Rufus hadn't given him anything with proper encryption. He'd use Rude's, but that had been lost in the struggle and flight out of Nibelheim. If the thing - whatever it was - in Nibelheim was part of a larger network, they'd be tracking him and Rude in no time, and maybe even go after Rufus again.

He had to warn Elena, Reno thought, ticking things off his fingers. Inform Rufus. Somehow figure out how much Tifa had managed to piece together after Reno's little hint the other day over the phone. In hindsight, that had been stupid too, even on an encrypted phone on his end, but he had a fondness for Tifa, Rude or no Rude. And then he had to get back to Corel in one piece, which was easier said than done with an injured man riding on the back of his bike. Rude had apparently ridden his own crippled bike into Costa del Sol, but he was in no condition to ride it home, and the bike was in for extensive repairs.

Shoving the pendant into his pocket, Reno decided that pacing wasn't doing anything for his sanity and left the motel down the rickety staircase through the wooden-slatted front door. The sun was setting in a fiery haze of gold and red over the beach. The best thing to do, he decided, was to take a leisurely stroll, like any man on mandatory vacation would do, and maybe get something to eat. Last he remembered, they sold good hot dogs down on the beach at one of those umbrella stands. Maybe Rude would want one.

He'd made it down the sandy slope to the beach front, stripped off his left shoe and was feeling the fine white sand under his toes, when he noticed that one of the long shadows had detached itself from one of the palm trees at the edge of the waterfront and was following him. He whirled around, but there was nothing there, just the sound of waves on the shore and the breeze curling around his face. He started walking again, and there was that motion at the corner of his eye, to his left, the slightest hint of footsteps. Stopping again, he stared resolutely ahead at the empty beach, a few people lounging on white plastic chairs, the faint sound of music coming from the large new cafe up above, on the boardwalk.

Reno smiled tightly to himself, bent down to strip off the rest of his shoes and socks, and began to run.

The sand was soft and giving beneath his feet and he pounded down the stretch of beach, feeling his feet sink into the ground and giving his calves and hamstrings a good workout. He must have looked ridiculous to anyone actually enjoying the sunset view from the beach, some barefoot guy in a nice suit, his slacks rolled up around his ankles, shoes and socks in hand, huffing and puffing his way through the surf. Reno had never quite cared what bystanders thought of him, and he found he didn't quite care now, only focusing on the shadow to his left, still moving with him.

They passed out of sight of the cafe and the commercial section of beach to where the sand turned to sharp, gravelly stones that pricked the soles of his feet and made running difficult. He slowed to a walk, stopped, turned again. The shadow was gone, but he put one hand to his belt, where the Shinra pistol lay holstered.

"You can come out now," he said.

A flicker of movement and then the man emerged out of the shadows, blood-red eyes gleaming in the dusk light under a hooded cloak. He'd traded his usual black and red garb for a long, grey flowing garment over dark pants tucked into scuffed boots, but Reno would know that face anywhere.

"It's not smart to discuss secrets in public," Vincent Valentine said.

"Well, well," Reno said smoothly, not taking his hand off the gun. "If it isn't the monster himself."

Vincent took the slight impassively. "Unfortunately, I'm not the monster you should be afraid of at the moment." Red eyes flicked to the right and left quickly, then returned to Reno's face, as if satisfied that the "public" he had just referred to was not listening in.

"I can take care of myself, thanks very much," Reno snapped, the anger bubbling up from beneath years of Shinra's training. Tseng used to tell him that his temper was going to be the death of him one day, but damned if he was going to stand here and take orders from some ex-Turk who flitted in and out of their lives whenever he liked it. "If you know so damn much, why didn't you try and warn Rude while you were at it?"

"That," Vincent said, "I didn't know. Believe me, I would have tried and stopped your friend if I had the information beforehand, but it was only thanks to the attack on Rude that I know what I know now."

"And what's that?" Reno said irritably, gripping the handle of the pistol tightly. The materia in its slots were smooth and cold under his sweaty fingers. "Damn it, Valentine, I've had a lifetime of being strung along on information. You think I can't spot when you're trying to dodge the question?"

Vincent's lips quirked in what would have been called a grin, had that movement been on anyone else. "A Turk to the core," he said, "just like Tseng said." He turned fluidly, pointing one finger down the beach farther on, where the gravel turned into pebbly ground sloping away from the water's edge and turning into a series of low, jagged cliffs. "Come with me."

"Wait a second," Reno called after him sharply, "What was that about Tseng?" But Vincent had already slipped away like the shadows that he seemed to so adore, moving swiftly and silently along the rocks. Feeling clumsy and waterlogged in comparison, Reno bent down to put his socks and shoes back on and began trudging after him. The rocky coast was rougher going than the beach, and Reno couldn't help but think that for a man who was supposed to be on vacation, he was sure having one of the most interesting weeks he'd had in years. I bet Rufus'll love to hear about this.

He then imagined the former Shinra leader's face after he and Rude, all bandaged and sewn up, arrived back in Corel on the back of his motorbike. Or maybe not.

Vincent was already waiting for him at the cliffs, perched like a bird of prey on one of the lower boulders as Reno clambered up unsteady footholds, his shirt soaked with sweat under his suit coat. "No fair," he grumbled under his breath. "I'm only human."

The former Turk simply watched him silently until Reno had firmly situated himself on the rock and shrugged out of his coat, panting slightly. "What do you know about the Lifestream?" Vincent said.

Reno blinked at the sudden broaching of the new topic. "Uh," he said. "Enough. It's not something I like to think about on a daily basis. I figure I'll have plenty of time to do that when I die and my body splits into tiny atoms or whatever. Why?"

The red eyes frowned slightly at him, in disapproval at his irreverence or just annoyance at Reno's blowing off of another pseudo-quasi religious topic, he didn't know. He didn't think it mattered. "Fifteen years ago, Jenova and Sephiroth were defeated by Cloud Strife and the rest of our small alliance. Thirteen years ago, the cells of Jenova's remains that had entered the Lifestream caused the Geostigma syndrome, cured mostly by Aeris Gainsborough's intervention from that same Lifestream."

Reno didn't miss the qualifier. "Mostly?" he said sharply. "I thought Geostigma was gone for good. I haven't heard of any cases popping up in the last ten years or so."

Vincent nodded. "That's true."

He waited for the black-haired man to continue, but after nothing seemed forthcoming, he crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. "Look, man, you stalk me down the beach, make me do some mountain climbing, and then leave me hanging again. That's no fair."

If he had been Rufus, Vincent would have smiled at Reno's mock-tirade. If he had been Rude, he would have made some pacifying remarks. If he had been Tseng, he would have given Reno third shift patrol for speaking out of turn. But Vincent was not any of them, and simply sat, staring up at the sky, shoulders set and expression cold.

Reno opened his mouth to say that he'd had enough of this shit and he was going home, and then Vincent abruptly turned away, yanking his sleeve up at the same time to show Reno a forearm speckled with tiny red pustules, blue veins running startlingly bright against blackened flesh. Reno stared, horrified and yet fascinated, goosebumps prickling over his skin.

"Mostly," Vincent said. "I believe this is a new type of the virus, a mutant strain, perhaps?" He sounded as calm as someone discussing his schedule for the next day. "I have been to Aeris' church in Edge. The water in her pool reduced some of the swelling, and the blisters, but the disease remains."

"Shit," Reno said softly.

"I believe also there have been a number of infant deaths this past year due to a disease of this particular nature, especially in towns nearer to the Northern Crater. Rufus Shinra has the statistics in one of his log books. The disease seems to be confined to a small area for the moment. I believe it is not contagious."

Or you wouldn't be here right now, Reno thought. He jerked his gaze away from Vincent's arm, and the man calmly pulled his sleeve down again. "This is why he sent Rude to Nibelheim? What the hell does...why...did Cloud..." He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, brain rolling with too many thoughts and emotions to name, so he simply stopped.

"I believe Rufus Shinra owes you all an explanation," Vincent said.

"Damn right," Reno muttered, massaging his temples with both fingers, staring off into the distance where the sky met the sea in a last red flare of bravado as the sun vanished over the horizon. "More than me, he owes Rude. We're not Shinra any more. I ain't gonna have it, and I sure as hell ain't gonna let Rude have it either."

"Your friend is too stubborn for his own good," Vincent said. "Tseng mentioned this as well."

Reno frowned. "That's the second time you've mentioned Tseng. What's up with that?"

Vincent was silent for a moment, and then he said, "Tseng was worried."

He had no response to that, so he simply shifted on the rock. The wind was cold. Tseng worried a lot these days - worried about Rufus, worried about Green Earth, worried, about his old Turks, worried about budget and finances and the new oil industry, worried like an old man that it was only a matter of time before a new Kadaj or Sephiroth would appear and all his work would be for nothing. "Tseng's like a packrat," Reno said irritably. "Or a mom with empty nest syndrome."

Vincent chuckled softly and Reno swung his head around at the unexpected sound. "Tseng is a good man," he said. "He sent me after you because he cares about what happens to his friends."

"So he sent you, did he?" The anger flared again, then subsided. He would have preferred Elena to Valentine, but what was done was done. Rude would probably be awake by now, and there was some explaining to do. "I suppose you're coming back to Corel with me then."

"As soon as Rude is willing to leave," Vincent said. He stood suddenly, the barest hint of movement through the glow of the rising moon. "I will meet you back at the motel."

"Rude's motorcycle is broken," Reno said. He did not hear footsteps, but something told him that the other man was already withdrawing, gliding back down to the pebbly beach like fluid shadow.

"I thought that three would be a tight fit on your motorcycle," Vincent said from below, so softly that Reno could barely hear him, "so Reeve and Cid lent me an airship."

 
to Part IV: Vincent