Final Fantasy VII: Lifestream - Book 2: Aftermath

NINE

When Barret and I reached the top of the wall, we stopped for just a moment to catch our breath. There wasn't much room to stand, but it was enough. Although heights didn't bother me, I didn't look down. It would get worse the higher we got, and I knew the footing would likely be even more precarious for most of our ascent.

Barret looked up. "Still got a long wayta go, merc."

"Yeah," I nodded, following his gaze. "But we'll get there. Got your grappling gun ready?"

He held it up and grinned. "You bet! We got three goals, SOLDIER boy! One—kick some Shinra ass an' save the planet! Two—save Aerith while kickin' even more Shinra ass! Three—make a flashy escape to the slums, kick Shinra ass, an' save Jessie!"

"Copy that," I agreed.

Taking aim, we fired at a low hanging edge of the debris and pulled ourselves up. The shattered remains of the plate were a tangled mass of wires, twisted metal, broken concrete, rubble, and other debris. We set down on a long, rusted sewer pipe about three feet across that must've been underground before the plate had collapsed. It rose up at an angle amidst a cluster of other wreckage.

We climbed carefully toward the top end, weaving past a jumble of torn cables until we got there. But with all the broken ruins around us, we couldn't see a place to fire our grappling guns from here. There was an actual airplane caught in the midst of it, a large one. Probably from Shinra's aviation museum. Jessie had told me about it once, during one of our long trips across the slums.

She, Biggs, and Wedge had ventured up to the Sector 7 plate earlier in the year to steal an engine part from one of the aircraft displayed in the museum, one she could convert into a motor to power the elevator in Seventh Heaven. They'd still been building it at the time, connecting it to the new hideout they'd been putting together in the basement. The theft had been a success, though Jessie had gotten a little distracted on the way out when she'd seen a huge mural showing an airship hovering over the main launchpad in Junon.

She'd been totally in awe of the thing and had nearly forgotten why she was even there. It wasn't until she had heard someone arguing with one of the staff that she had come back to herself. From what Jessie had said, the guy'd had a hell of a temper and a mouth to match. But he had noticed her gazing at the mural and had given her a little smile, as if he liked that she was admiring the airship.

After shooing the museum staff away, the pilot—Jessie had figured him from his outfit—had chatted with her for a minute. Apparently, he had come to town on business for a few days but was from somewhere far from here. Biggs and Wedge had found Jessie a little while later, and they had returned to the slums without any trouble. Then she had used that engine part to finish the elevator.

"Damn plane's blockin' the way," Barret muttered.

I took a closer look. "Yeah. If we could just move that propeller up a bit, we could jump on it to keep going."

He nodded. "Any ideas?"

At first, I didn't know. The plane was nose-up in the debris next to the sewer pipe, surrounded by the rubble of what might've been part of a hangar. But then I spotted an open panel in the fuselage. Inside was a fuse box of some kind, humming faintly. As I gazed at it, I remembered what we had brought with us.

"Yeah," I said. "The batteries Marcus gave us. If we put one in here, the propeller might work. See the cockpit?"

Barret looked around. "Right down here, Spike."

I took out a battery. "Okay. Once I put this in, try the engine."

"Will do," he said, reaching inside.