Funny how things work out sometimes. Funny how your whole life, and the lives of those around you, can hinge on the simplest things. Unusual for Reno, he had fallen asleep around midnight. Normally he stayed up much later but tonight, for some reason, he had felt very tired. It happened sometimes. Eventually his late nights and five or six hours of sleep would catch up with him, and he'd have to spend one night recuperating, one night getting a decent nights sleep so he could short himself the next five without collapsing.
He woke up, well, he wasn't exactly sure what time. He didn't look at the clock, even though it was staring right at him from the VCR. He had to go to the bathroom, that was why he woke up. No one can say, of course, just why his body got the urge to go to the bathroom at that particular time. It was just fate, or luck, depending on how you looked at it. It was a simple thing, really, getting up at night to relieve oneself. It happened all the time, almost every night to some people. Just why it happened at that particular time on that particular night, no one can say, of course, but if it hadn't, the night might have turned out very differently, very differently indeed.
He didn't bother to turn on the lights. He could see well enough, and there was a night light for Karisa in the bathroom. The only light on in the house, but it was more than enough. By now, his eyes were well adjusted to the dark.
It was when he stepped into the bathroom that the first suspicion fell on him that something was amiss. He almost missed it. If he hadn't been comfortably warm from being under the blankets on the couch he might not have noticed. At any rate, as soon as he stepped in front of the toilet to do his business he felt it, and it stopped him dead in his tracks.
Just the faintest touch of cold air against his skin. Barely noticeable. Actually, considering the fact that he was still half asleep, it was surprising he noticed it at all. Still, his brain wasn't too sleep addled to take notice, and to become instantly alert.
He stood there for a moment, staring at the room around him. Again he felt the faint touch of cold, just barely caressing him in the darkness. His eyes locked on the window. It was the only place, after all, where cold could be coming in. After a moment he walked over to it, examining it carefully. It appeared closed, but when he reached up to run his hand along the bottom, he could feel the cold air slipping in beneath the sill.
He turned around, fully alert now, the last vestiges of sleep having quickly fallen away. Tifa locked all her windows. They'd gone through this after Thelodius had gotten in. She always locked her windows and the window had to be closed to do that, completely closed. He'd been in the bathroom before and hadn't noticed the draft, and if he hadn't noticed it, then it hadn't been there then, which left him with only one conclusion.
There was an intruder in the house.
He hadn't made any noise coming in here. Long ago he had trained himself to move silently, to tread lightly, even when not in danger, even in the most domestic of situations. Being a Turk, one was never safe, one never knew when an enemy might strike. Those old habits were so ingrained by now that they would never leave him. He did it instinctively, without thought, just as he had been trained. Whoever was in here probably was not aware he was up, might not be aware he was here at all.
Without making a sound, he stepped forward until he stood in the doorway to the hall. He glanced back and forth quickly but the hallway was empty. He stood there a moment to consider his position. Tifa's apartment wasn't very large. It had only a few rooms in it. There weren't many places for someone to hide. He had been sleeping in the living room, and if the intruder were in there he would probably already be dead. The kitchen was connected to the living room, almost one unit, and if anyone would have been in there he would have seen them. He was in the bathroom now. That left only two choices, the two bedrooms.
Still moving silently he walked back into the living room, feeling confident the intruder was not there. He quickly picked up his nightstick that was lying on the coffee table and turned around. Once more he stopped.
The front door was right beside him now. He could walk out, he could get away right now. He would be safe once he got outside. Whoever was in here might not even know he was gone.
He looked at the hallway once more, the direction he had come from. Karisa was still in there, still in her room, sound asleep.
He couldn't just leave her there, at the mercy of whoever it might be that was in here.
He didn't think it was Thelodius Baxter this time. The man was a wimp. He wouldn't be coming back. No, it was not some simple burglar this time, not someone who would be content stealing a few items and leaving. The chances of it being just a common burglar were to tall to even entertain. It was Psi Co, someone from Psi Co, it had to be, and if it was, he had to get Karisa out too, he couldn't take the chance they would leave her alone just because she was a harmless little girl.
In any case, even if it was just a common burglar, he would never leave Karisa here alone.
With his nightstick in his hand and knowledge that he had detected the intruder, his confidence rose. He had the advantage now. He knew the intruder was here but the man was not aware that Reno was on to him. He thought about hunting for the man, playing cat and mouse against him, until one of them surprised the other. He was completely confident that he could get the jump on the other guy, completely confident he would end up triumphant.
But again Karisa complicated things. He had to get her out of harms way, that was his first priority. No matter how much he might enjoy matching wits with the intruder she was more important. So it was into the child's room, get her and then flee. It was just too dangerous to pick a fight with her here. He couldn't take the chance on her getting hurt.
He just hoped the intruder wasn't already on there.
The door to Karisa's room was closed, and he stopped in front of it, taking a long look around. The door to Tifa's bedroom was open, though it was dark inside, the light from the nightlight in the bathroom could not reach it. The door was only open a little, and he couldn't see much of the interior. He just hoped if there was someone in there, they didn't see him first.
He placed his ear against Karisa's door, listening, but all was silent. If there was someone in there his opening the door would immediately give away the fact he was there, of course, but he still might take them by surprise, if he was quick. He was hoping of course, that the intruder was not in the room at all, had left Karisa alone or not found her yet. The problem was if he opened the door quickly it was sure to make a noise, and if he opened it slowly he wouldn't be able to surprise anyone inside. Unfortunately he didn't have time to think about it. He had to make a decision now. If the intruder was in there already... well, he didn't want to think about that.
In the end he decided for speed over stealth. If the intruder was unaware he was up, he might be able to get Karisa out of here before the interloper could react.
He pulled open the door, nightstick in hand and dodged inside. There was another nightlight inside, right beside Karia's bed. Once quick glance around the room immediately told him it was empty except for the small form of Karisa fast asleep in her bed. The door had made noise when he opened it, and he had moved quickly too, giving himself away with the sound of his footsteps. Whoever was in here was now almost certainly aware of him.
Without hesitation he stepped forward and grabbed hold of Karisa, pulling her up into his arms. The child let out a soft cry, jarred into consciousness but still not fully awake, not aware of what was going on. Which was fine with him. The last thing he needed was for her to cry out, or get upset by suddenly being snatched from her bed.
Not wasting any time he turned and ran through the door. Stealth was irrelevant now. He had given himself away. Now the only course of action was to get the hell out of here as fast as he could.
He made it as far as the hallway. A sound behind him, a slight shifting in the shadows along the wall was all that gave it away. Those clues alone were enough to tell him the intruder was upon him. Grasping Karisa in one hand, he turned, leveling his nightstick as a shadow loomed out of the darkness behind.
Something glinted in the light. Without thought he tried to twist out of the way, anticipating a blow, turning so that his body was between Karisa and the attacker. His hand came up and in an instant his assailant was haloed in the light from his nightstick as it discharged. At the same time, however, he felt something white hot tear through his side.
He staggered backwards, almost falling to the ground, yet somehow, some way, managed to remain on his feet. He turned away, running now as fast as he could, out of the hallway, through the living room. He flung open the front door. The cold hit him like a smack in the face but he barely noticed it. A moment later he was out of the apartment, running toward the street.
It was sometime around this point that the sequence of events started to blur for Reno. He was running of course, though he wasn't quite sure where he was going, or even at times, why. He wasn't one to run from a fight, no matter what the odds, and in fact, he thought the odds here might be pretty good. He was certain he'd hit the man with the discharge from his mag-rod, might even have taken the guy down. Even now the guy might be on the floor, easy pickings for him. It wasn't like him to give a foe a second chance.
Karisa squirming in his arms reminded him of why he was in flight. Maybe he had taken the man down, and maybe not. He couldn't take the chance. He couldn't fight while holding onto Karisa. If the man somehow managed to get the better of him, the little girl would be helpless.
It was Drax. He'd seen the man's face when his mag-rod discharged, which made it doubly important he get Karisa out of harms way. He had no illusions as to what the man would do to her if her caught her.
Karisa was crying now, not too loudly but to him, it sounded more than loud enough. He tried as best he could to comfort her, holding her in both arms and pleading softly for her to be quite, but he wasn't sure if it was doing any good. He could still hear her, he couldn't seem to shut her up completely. She was too scared. She didn't know what was going on.
No, there only option was to run, to hide. He realized, belatently, that his mag-rod was nowhere to be found. It occurred to him that he had had both hands full when opening the door to Tifa's apartment. In his haste to get out, he must have dropped it then.
Drax wouldn't give up. He'd be after them. Even without Karisa, without a weapon he wouldn't stand much of a chance if the man caught up with them.
Running was there only chance, and yet, for all his desperation to escape, for all he was trying to push himself to race down the street, it seemed to him as if he wasn't making much progress. He had crossed the street and dodged into a narrow alley. It was dark here, he could hardly see, and his vision seemed blurred. There were no lights in the alley, but the dim glow from street lights out on the road behind him provided some illumination. Besides that, the sky was clear and a half moon hung low above the buildings around him in the eastern sky. There should have been more than enough light for him to see by, yet there seemed to be a mist in front of his eyes. His breathing was rapid and labored, sucking in each breath, each one seeming not nearly sufficient. He had felt Drax's sword pierce his flesh. After the initial stab, the pain had faded some, lost in the adrenaline rush that coursed through his body but now, now the dull ache was slowly blossoming into crippling pain. He knew right from the start he had been hurt pretty badly, but he hadn't had time to stop and look at it, or even think about it. His one thought had been escape, to get Karisa out of harms way, and he had expended all his efforts and energy to that effect, but with each step now he could feel his strength draining away, and they hadn't gotten very far, hadn't gotten very far at all.
He had suspected in the back of his mind that he had been hurt badly, really badly, but he had refused to let himself think about it. Every step he took now, however, caused excruciating pain to shoot through his side and up into his chest. Somewhere along the line, he wasn't sure when, he had slowed to a walk. It was the best he could manage.
Then he stopped. He didn't want to, but it seemed he couldn't force his legs to carry him any farther. His breath was coming in short gasps, he felt dizzy, and he could barely see more than a few feet around him. Beyond that it was just shapes in the darkness. He peered around him. He was in an alley, that he knew, but try as he might he couldn't see either end of it from where he stood, just the alley both ways fading off into the darkness. He knew it had only been a couple of minutes but it seemed like he had been running for ages. How far had he gotten? How far to the end of the alley? Was he even being pursued? He had no answers.
In any case, he realized he could run no more. He felt something cold against his back and realized he was leaning up against the side of a building. He should be going, he should be moving. So why was he just standing there?
Karisa had her arms around his neck now, clinging. She was still crying, but fortunately, it wasn't very loud. She hadn't said a word. It was all probably too much for her to take in. He was just thankful that she wasn't wailing.
"It's all right," he said, shifting her in his arms. He had said that too her a number of times, trying as best he could to reassure her. Maybe it was doing some good, maybe not. He felt something wet against his arm as he moved her and looked down to see she was covered with a dark fluid. In the darkness he couldn't tell what color it was, but with a shock he realized it must be blood.
Quickly he lifted her up, or tried to, for she was clinging to his neck and refused to let go for a moment. He eventually pried her off and lifted her in his arms, even that causing a jolt of pain to shoot through his side.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
She didn't answer at first, then shook her head, and he realized at about the same time that it wasn't her blood her legs were covered with but his own. He looked down to see that his side and legs were drenched with blood.
Not good. Not good at all. Still, nothing he could do about that at the moment. He as hurt very badly but he couldn't dwell on that now. He looked around again, or tried too. His vision still seemed blurry, and he could see nothing but the darkness of the empty alley around them. He had to move. He had to get out of here. He didn't know how far he had gotten but he didn't think it was far enough. The more distance he put between them and Tifa's apartment the better.
He had to move, but he couldn't. His legs refused to obey him. Gritting his teeth he tried to force himself forward. He managed a few abortive steps before his legs gave out suddenly and he tumbled to the ground, banging his elbow hard trying to protect Karisa from the fall.
Cursing under his breath he tried to pull himself to his feet, but he couldn't manage it. His legs were numb, he realized he couldn't feel them at all. He felt light headed. The best he could manage was to pull himself up into a sitting position, his back once more against the wall.
He sat there for a long time, the only sound his breath coming in short gasps and an occasional whimper from Karisa, who was still clinging to him, her whole body shaking.
"It's all right, it's going to be all right," he whispered, even though he was beginning to realize that was a lie. He held her with one hand, the other pressed up against his side, against the wound, but he didn't think that was going to do much good. He couldn't die, he couldn't right here in front of the kid, he couldn't leave her unprotected, at the mercy of Drax.
He told himself he had to get up, had to give it one more effort, but his body refused to obey and he realized that he could no longer protect her. He couldn't stand, couldn't fight, could barely see. If Drax came, he would be helpless and so would the child.
Once again he pried her off of himself, setting her down on the ground beside him. He held her steady with both hands and looked right into her eyes.
"Karisa, you have to listen to me."
She just stood there, crying harder now that he was no longer holding her close.
"Listen to me!" he commanded.
He waited a moment more as her whimpering subsided, until he was sure he had her attention.
"You have to go," he said. "You have to run down the street, that way," he nodded his head farther down the alley. "Run that way as far and as fast as you can. Do you understand me?"
She didn't answer for a moment, then shook her head, starting to cry again. It sounded ridiculously loud to him. She reached out and tried to grab hold of him again.
"Shhhhh!" he said, as sternly as he dared. He knew yelling at her could very well just made her cry worse. That wouldn't help the situation, but he had to get the seriousness of this through to her.
It was a desperate thing to do, he knew. She was only three years old, for chrissake. It was the middle of the night. Where would she go? How could he leave her alone, how could he tell her to just run off into the night?
Because if he didn't, he knew she was dead. It was a desperate thing to do, but it was her only chance.
"Go!" he commanded, but she just stood there, just stood there shaking her head and crying.
"I don't want to leave you. I'm scared!" she managed to say through her tears.
"I know, I know," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I know you're scared, but you can't stay here. You have to go. Find someplace lit up, find other people. You have to!"
But she didn't go, she just stood there, shaking her head and saying no, that she didn't want to. He knew his words wouldn't be enough, he couldn't convince her of the danger. He was the only thing she knew out here, out here in the night, in the darkness, the poor kid must be scared to death.
He looked around again, and saw a shadow growing in the darkness behind the child.
"Run!"
Drax stood in the doorway to Tifa's apartment staring out into the darkness. His chest still smarted from the jolt Reno had given him. Damn, for a moment there he though he was dead. Even with all his careful planning they had still taken him by surprise. He hadn't expected Reno to be there and he had thought at first he had walked into an ambush.
Apparently, however, he was giving them more credit than they deserved. Reno had had a chance to finish him off yet instead had taken the child and fled. It wasn't an ambush at all. It was obvious he had caught Reno as much by surprise as Reno had caught him. He was familiar with Reno's weapon and knew its main value was its capability to stun. It did no permanent damage. He had recovered quickly.
Reno, on the other hand, would not be so lucky.
He hadn't been expecting Reno to be here, but fortunately, he had been up to the task. He and Reno had struck at the same time, and he had felt his sword piece deep into the other man's flesh.
He looked down at the sidewalk in front of him. A dark line of blood led off into the night. Nearby lay Reno's Mag-rod.
An easy trail to follow and an unarmed enemy. It wasn't like Reno to leave his weapon behind. The man was slipping. He had thought he was in for a challenge.
Oh well.
And with that he started on his way, following the trail of blood. He didn't run, but walked quickly. He had killed enough people to know what kind of damage his weapon did. He had killed enough people to know that Reno would not get very far.
Still, he didn't have time to tarry. Others might have heard the sounds of a scuffle. It was a quiet neighborhood and as he looked around, he didn't see any signs of activity but one could never be sure. Someone might be on the phone with the authorities right now, or the sounds might be ignored. One could never tell. All he knew was the plan had gone astray, and when that happened the best thing to do was finish the job as quickly as possible and disappear. Not the way he really liked to do it since it didn't leave him much time to relish the kill but hey, a man had to do what was necessary.
He followed the trail down the road, across the street and then into a narrow alley. It wasn't difficult. The blood trail was clear to see in the moonlight. He didn't slow down as he entered the alley, even though his instincts told him it was the perfect place for an ambush. He had obviously taken Reno by surprise. The man was unarmed and badly wounded. Even he had to admit Reno was a formidable foe but even the ex Turk couldn't overcome that kind of handicap.
He half expected Reno to be dead already by the time he caught up.
That wasn't the case, however. He hadn't traveled far down the alley when the sound of crying came to his ears, a child crying softly. The alley was well lit by moonlight, he could see quite a distance ahead. There, on the ground off to the left, ahead of him. Movement gave away the fact that the dark form there was not a garbage can, or some refuse someone had dumped on the street. There was someone there, on the ground, or more than one, seeing a smaller figure detach from the first, even as he heard Reno call out quite clearly for the child to run.
Karisa ran. She was scared and didn't understand was what going on, but the urgent command from an adult left her no choice but to obey. She ran down the alley. She didn't know where to go. She didn't know what to do. All she knew was that something horrible was happening, and that she was terrified and she wanted her mother.
But her mother was nowhere to be found. Reno was the only person she knew, and now he was gone too, and something else was out here, something horrible was after her.
She reached the end of the alley and stopped. The street ran in front of her now, the streetlight overhead glaring down on her. Though she didn't realize it, of course, she was an easy target to spot. Reno had told her to run but hadn't said how far or how long. Now he was gone too. She stood in a pool of light completely surrounded by darkness, a darkness in which all kind of creatures might lurk. She had never been left alone before except in the safety of her room. She had never been out in the daytime by herself, much less after dark. Now no one was here, and she was surrounded by blackness. Not realizing that the distance she had put between herself and her pursuer was woefully inadequate, she curled up beneath the lightpost, crying for her mother.
Crying for her mother, until that is, a figure appeared out of the darkness before her and a hand came up, suddenly silencing her shrill scream
It was cold. God, how many times in the last few weeks had she thought that? No, make that months. It wasn't even October yet and already it felt like the middle of winter. She couldn't believe that August had only been a month ago. She couldn't remember the last warm day they had had. It felt like it always had been cold here, and last summer seemed like a dream, like something that had occurred a lifetime ago.
Tifa hated the cold. She was sick and tired of always freezing. You would think that after a while a person would get used to it, would become numb to the cold. I wasn't happening with her. She wished she was numb, because right now she wanted to feel nothing, but if anything, she seemed to feel the cold more acutely tonight. No matter how much she covered up the wind seemed to find every nook and cranny, slipping its icy fingers up her sleeves or down her back to caress her skin.
She shivered. She hated the cold, she hated it here, she hated her life. She had never felt so... empty inside. Looking back, she couldn't remember the last time she had been happy, really happy anyway, and after the fiasco at the Halo & Horns earlier...
She wasn't sure she had ever been happy. Maybe a long time ago, when she was just a child, when her parents had still been alive. That was too long ago for her to remember. That too felt like a different lifetime ago. She had always felt that something was missing from her life, had always felt there should be more somehow, but she had never had any idea how to go about obtaining it.
No matter how bad things had gotten, she had always had a steadfast conviction that if she stayed her course, if she was true to herself, that somehow things would all work out for her in the end. Now she wasn't so sure. Now she was no longer certain even what her convictions were. She had always had a definite sense of herself, but now, now it was like she didn't know who she was anymore.
She had never felt so alone. She felt so strange tonight, she couldn't really explain it. It was like the Tifa she had known was gone, replaced by... nothing. That was it. It was like she was gone, her essence, her being. How many people lived in Junon? She wasn't sure. Millions. She was just one miniscule person in that sea of people, nothing special about her, nothing to distinguish her from the millions of others around her. If she faded away into nothing, would anyone notice?
Maybe that's what she really wanted to do, just fade away. She hated the cold, she hated it here, so why didn't she just leave? She couldn't deny that she had entertained that thought more than once. She was never really sure to begin with why she had moved to Junon in the first place. There was nothing here that she found appealing. The place was drab, dank and depressing, had always been. So why was she here? Why had she stayed her for all these years?
She thought that maybe there was some deep rooted psychological reason for her being here, but if so, she was too tired to try to fathom it. She didn't know why she did the things she did sometimes. Maybe she was just a glutton for punishment.
She was too tired, and too cold, to think about it. It was all a waste of time anyway. She just didn't understand herself and if she didn't by now, it seemed unlikely she ever would. Right now she just wanted to get home, wanted to get home to her nice warm bed and her little girl, wanted to get back to the only place she felt safe. She couldn't hide in her apartment forever, she realized that, but it could shelter her for a little while. She could go inside and shut the door on the outside world, forget about her troubles, at least for a short time. It might not be much but it was enough, enough to give her the strength to face the world again the next day.
But tonight, tonight of course, though she didn't know it, things would be different.
Tifa was walking down the block, approaching her apartment when she first became aware that something was amiss. At first she didn't know exactly what was wrong, all she knew was that something looked out of place. It took her a moment to realize that it was the door that was wrong. She could see the front of the building, an off white color that looked a uniform grey in the darkness. Ordinarily the door blended in as well, was the same color as the rest of the building, but it was darker there now, the color did not match.
It took her a few more steps to realize the reason for that was because her door was open.
She frowned, unease quickly growing inside her. That wasn't right. There was no reason for the door to be open, this late at night. And even if it was, why couldn't she see her living room, why wasn't there any light on inside?
She had slowed down for a moment, but now, as her unease blossomed into a certainty that something was very wrong, she broke into a run. Even before she saw the dark stains on the sidewalk in front of the door, her unease turned to fear which turned to terror.
"Karisa!"
Heedless to any danger she sprinted inside. If someone was waiting there, if she was rushing to her death, she didn't care. All she knew was that she had to find her daughter. Barely looking around she rushed to the child's room. She called out Karisa's name again, and Reno's, but all she received in reply was deathly silence. She ran into child's bedroom, her hand flying up to turn on the light.
Suddenly she felt as if she couldn't breathe. The bed was empty, the blankets strewn on the floor. A table beside the bed was overturned and, worst of all, worse than anything she could have imagined, were the red stains on the carpet under her feet.
"Oh god no!"
That was all she could get out, and then she couldn't say anymore. Her throat was constricted, her heart racing. She ran back out into the hall, turned toward her own room for a moment. The door was open, all was dark inside. Karisa might still be in here, hiding somewhere or... or worse. She didn't want to think about that. Yet, somehow, she knew the rest of the apartment was empty, and that she would find what she was looking for, for better or worse, if she followed the trail of blood outside.
She rushed back out of the apartment, looking around frantically as she went, hoping that somehow, someway she could be wrong, that Karisa had escaped, that she was hiding somewhere in the apartment or nearby, that she was safe.
"Karisa!" she yelled again as she stepped back out into the dark. Her heart was thudding in her chest so hard she thought it would burst. If anything had happened to her child, she didn't know what she would do, she didn't think she could stand it.
Racing along as fast as she could she followed the trail of blood. It wasn't hard to follow. At least not at first. It turned west at the street, down the sidewalk. She followed it halfway down the block, all the time her stomach in a knot, her throat constricted, the whole time praying with all her might that her baby was all right.
To her dismay the trail disappeared halfway down the block, or so it seemed at first. But after a moment of looking around desperately she saw that it turned into the street here, the dark asphalt of the road making in harder to spot. She followed it across the street, straight toward a narrow alley that ran between two buildings on the opposite side. She ran across the road. Reaching the other side she looked up and stopped dead in her tracks.
Someone was there, looming out of the darkness right in front of the alley. A figure stood shrouded in the darkness. No, two figures. A smaller blob resolved itself in the dark beside the larger one. And adult and a child. Tifa felt her breath catch in her throat as her fists came up. She was still too far away to identify them in the darkness, but she could tell from the size and shape of the adult that it was not Reno.
"Karisa!" she cried out. She couldn't help it. It didn't matter anyway. Her call wasn't going to give her away. The figure with the small child must have seen her already.
"Mommy!"
And then, suddenly, Karisa bolted forward and they were both running toward one another. Tifa fell to her knees as Karisa reached her and swept her daughter up into her arms. She was alive. Her daughter was alive. For a moment all she could think about was that she had Karisa again, that her daughter was in her arms, was safe. For a moment nothing else mattered.
For a moment only. She felt a shadow fall upon her. In her estacy at finding her daughter again she could almost have forgotten about the figure beside her, but now she looked up and saw the man standing right next to her. Her eyes widened in surprise to see the pale man from the bar, the one that Reno had chased from her apartment, standing in front of her.
"You..." she said slowly.
Thelodius didn't say anything. He just stood there looking at her. Tifa didn't know what to say, didn't know what to think for a moment. She dismissed the thought that this man might be the cause of all this as soon as it came to her. Just from looking at him he didn't seem like the violent type, not like this anyway. Besides, Karisa had been with him and she was safe, he had let her come to her mother as soon as they had seen her. It was obvious someone else had done this.
She didn't stop to think of why he happened to be here. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he could very well have saved Karisa's life.
She had a million questions, and not nearly enough time to ask them all. She looked her daughter over and asked her if she was hurt, greatly relieved at the child's negative response. Yet still the knot remained in Tifa's stomach. There was still the matter of the trail of blood, and if it wasn't her's...
She turned to look at Thelodius again.
"Reno?" she questioned softly, the word coming with difficulty from her lips, half afraid of the response she would get.
Again he did not speak, and for a moment she thought he wasn't going to respond at all, but then his hand came up and a single finger stabbed toward the alley.
Just the way he pointed, without saying anything at all, brought her dread back to her. The alley gaped in front of her like some black hole of hell. She didn't want to go in there. Whoever had done this might still be around. She was scared to death of what she might find, but she didn't have much choice, did she? Reno could be in there, wounded, still alive. The sooner she found him, the better.
"Karisa, stay here," she said.
The young girl clung to her, but she gently forced her away. She looked at her companion and a small nod of his head told her Karisa would be safe. She had to trust her daughter with him one more time. She had no choice. She was not going to bring Karisa into that alley with her.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, she walked into the alley. The darkness accepted her coldly. The moon was in the sky, but now had sunk below the level of the buildings around her, throwing the alley into darkness which her eyes could barely penetrate.
She didn't speak again. She didn't call out his name. It couldn't have been that long ago all this happened, she couldn't have missed it by much. Whoever had done this could still be around.
She looked down at the ground, but it was too dark in here to see any blood. Slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the deeper darkness, shapes began to resolve themselves around her. Litter filled garbage cans, some broken crates, a bicycle some child had left outside. She held her breath at each object that loomed up in front of her, not sure whether to expect someone to leap out of the darkness at her or to find Reno crumpled lifeless on the ground.
As it turned out...
He was off to the side, propped up beside a set of steps that led up to someone's back door, and she almost walked right past him.
"Reno!" she hissed. She said that before she was even sure it was him. Quickly kneeling down beside him she realized her assumption had been correct. It was Reno all right, lying like a dead thing on the ground. This close to him now she could see him well enough. His eyes were closed, he wasn't moving.
"Reno, are you all right?' she heard herself saying, her voice quivering. She could tell, she could tell as soon as she touched him that he wasn't. He was hurt. He was hurt bad. She could tell right away, somehow. She didn't need the slick feel of blood on her hands to tell her that, or his total immobility, or the cold feel of his skin as she reached out to him. She shook him, turning his head toward her, lifting it up, desperately seeking some sign of life, but he didn't open his eyes, he didn't look at her. Instead, his head just fell limply back to the side.
"Reno!"