II
Reeve hammered on the door in rising panic. “Rufus? Rufus are you in there?”
The kid had to be. The rest of the bathroom was empty, and this the only occupied stall. “Rufus! Answer me!”
“Shall we break down the door, sir?” one of the guards asked.
Reeve hissed. It had been half an hour. Perhaps something had happened to his young charge, and the boy had fainted… nightmare scenarios of how he was supposed to explain this to the President danced through his head. “If you don’t answer, we’re going to have to break in!”
Silence greeted them. “Rufus!” He dropped to the floor, peering through the gap underneath the door. He glimpsed tile floor, a delicate shade of sky blue, but nothing else. Something akin to terror began to build in him.
“Sir. Stand aside, sir,” one of the guards said.
“I… oh, ok. Fine. Go ahead.” Reeve moved to one side, chewing his lip in unconscious worry. The soldier raised his rifle and brought it crashing down on the wood.
The hinges were flimsy and gave way easily under repeated barrages. As the door splintered and caved in, Reeve practically dashed into the stall.
Empty.
“Shit,” he swore, and began beating around the bushes to see if the kid had hidden himself somewhere. He was going to get demoted. He was going to get fired. He was going to get executed.
*
“What do you mean the brat is missing?”
Reeve, dusty and bedraggled from plunging through plants and undergrowth looking for the missing child, returned in time to hear the President screaming at the guard all the way over his PHS. He slumped against the wall, gasping for breath and telling to quell the panic. And to try to restore his suit to some semblance of respectability. If only that last hedge hadn’t had thorns…
“Sir, he went to the bathroom—“
“I know that!” the President roared. “Stop bleeding repeating yourself! Find him!”
“We’ve searched the extent of the park. He doesn’t appear to be aroun—“
“Were there signs of a struggle?”
“Sir?”
Reeve
glanced up sharply. Could it be…
“I said, were there signs of a struggle?”
Reeve squeezed his eyes shut as the implications of the question seeped in. Oh, Rufus.
“No, sir, but it doesn’t mean that—“
“—of course it means that! The brat ran away!” Shinra’s words were practically a growl. “That’s it. I want the entire city under lock down, and all teams dispatched to find him. And tell that idiot Tuesti to get his ass back to HQ now.”
“Sir—“
There was a click as the line went dead. Reeve pushed himself away from the wall, a sense of betrayal and distress welling up in him. And we thought that giving you a taste of freedom would be enough.
His mind flashed back all too readily to the young Shinra looking miserably at him from across his desk.
“Reeve? I want to get out of here. I want to see the city.”
“Your father would never allow it.”
“You’re the new head of Urban Development, aren’t you? You could show
me the new plans of the city… or even the generators… you designed them, didn’t
you? It would be much more helpful to actually see them for myself instead of
just looking at diagrams… please? Please, Reeve?”
Why not, he had thought at the time. He never gets a chance to leave the building otherwise…
He gulped
nervously, swiping at the streaks of dirt on his face. Kid, you’ve
gotten us into so much trouble this time…
*
Clothes. The first thing he needed was a change of clothes. As much as he despised the hated red suits, the sheer gaudiness of the color meant that whoever was searching for him would look for it first. They wouldn’t be expecting him to be decked out in, hm….
He surveyed the shop quickly. He had picked this particular department store on purpose – it was large, relatively empty at this time, and the staff largely inattentive. No one would notice a young boy clutching a pair of jeans and a black jacket going up to the counter. He hoped. His publicity and frequent appearances on national TV were definitely going to work against him in this escapade.
Kalm. I’ll get to Kalm, and from there I’ll make my way to another continent. Some place where they don’t have mako reactors. Bone Village, maybe. Some place where Shinra will never go.
And I’ll be free there.
Shedding the red suit felt like shedding a skin. He hadn’t imagined it would feel so… great. Goodbye baggage. Goodbye looking like a miniature version of the old man. I’m not going to walk in his shadow any more…
He glanced at his watch. Half past twelve. His escape would have been noticed by now. He had to hurry. Get to the train station and catch the 12:45 down to the Sector 1 gate. Pulling his newly acquired cotton jacket around his shoulders, he ran for it.
*
“Attention, a lock down is in progress. All trains will be taken out of service. Passengers are advised to disembark at the next stop. Shuttle buses will be available shortly to transport you to your destination. Repeat, a lock down is in progress…”
Rufus stopped dead in his tracks, feeling like his world had just collapsed around him. Too late. Too late. All his carefully made plans…
He shook himself. He would take a cab. He had the money for that. He would—
“Attention, please. A search is now ongoing for one Rufus Shinra. If spotted, please report his whereabouts to Shinra Company at the following number…”
Rufus stopped dead for the second time in a minute as his description was sent blaring out across all of upper Midgar.
“A
substantial reward will be levied on anyone who can bring him back, alive and
unharmed, to Shinra Headquarters, or, alternatively, for details of his
whereabouts. He was last spotted at Alcarsy’s Department store on
No. No, no, no.
Plan A was down. Plan B was down.
He had a sinking feeling he knew what Plan C was. I’ll have to find a way to get out of here on foot. And the old man probably has all of SOLDIER turned out to look for me…
“Why?” he whispered, clenching small fists in fury. “Am I worth that much to you that you would bother locking down the entire city just to look for me? How much must that be costing you in economic loss?”
But there was no time for that. Sooner or later, people would notice him standing there like a loon in the middle of the station. He had to get out, and get out fast. The jacket had a hood. He pulled that over his overly conspicuous hair, and tried fake a nonchalant stride.