Final Fantasy VII: Reflections - Book 1: Descent

TWENTY-ONE

As I walked up the dirt road toward Wall Market, I heard voices up ahead. My natural curiosity getting the better of me again, I slowed as I came to a bend in the trail and scooted up behind a nearby pile of junk and broken rock to listen in as I peeked around the edge. Nearby, a line of abandoned shanty houses stood rusting in the fading daylight along with a few gaudy signs advertising the infamous entertainment district. I'd heard a little about it when I'd been staying in Sector 5, and that was more than enough to make me wary of the place.

A large chocobo stable with a paddock and bright lights was just a short distance ahead me, maybe fifty feet at the most, on the left side of the road. Past that, the gate to Wall Market stood open. I saw a carriage sitting next to the paddock, a chocobo already tethered to it and ready to go. Looked like I'd found my ride to Sector 7.

Two men were talking next to the carriage, and it was them that I'd heard. Both were middle-aged, but they were completely different. The first one ran the stable—his brown wrangler's hat, vest, belt with a large golden chocobo buckle, and patterned boots told me that right off. He had a thick brown beard, dark blue eyes, and a leather whip at his side as he stood there with his hands on his hips.

I shuddered at the sight of the guy he was talking to. The man was short, pudgy, with a thin moustache and a strip of wavy blond hair that he'd shaved on the sides. He wore a red fur-lined coat over a white shirt and brown pants, and I could see rings on his fingers and a round gold medallion hanging from his neck. And as a final, tacky touch, the word "love" was tattooed on one side of his head.

"I'm tellin' ya, Don," the wrangler said, "that last gal I sent ya fit the bill just fine. So don't you go tarnishin' my reputation 'cause Vera didn't tickle your sweet spot like ya thought she would."

The pudgy man pointed at him, his eyes narrowing. "This isn't the first bust I've had from you lately, Sam. You're slipping, and I don't like it when my suppliers go sour."

"There's still tonight's audition," Sam answered.

"You'll forgive me if my confidence in you is less than stellar," Don growled. "Ever since M gave you the boot last month, you haven't been the same. You'd best shape up, or the Trio's gonna become a Duo before you know it. Catch my drift?"

Sam folded his arms in front of him. "I hear ya."

Don nodded. "Good. And just for a bit of extra incentive..."

Quicker than I'd thought possible, he reached out a thick hand and slipped it into one of the pockets of Sam's vest. I couldn't see what Don took out at first, but when he held it up in front of him, I recognized it as a keycard. Sam glared at him but kept his mouth shut. A good idea, I thought. Don sneered at him.

"Consider yourself grounded, Sam," he said, putting the card inside one of his own pockets. "Until you send me a real hot little kitten I can play with. You know what I'm looking for. Unless you want to keep my little Abzu company along with Vera."

Then he sneered and waddled away, disappearing through the gate and into Wall Market, a pair of shady-looking goons joining him as he went inside. When Don and his bodyguards were gone, I slipped out of my hiding spot and hurried up the road. Sam was just starting to head inside the building behind him when he saw me.

"Howdy," he tipped his hat. "Somethin' I can do for ya?"

I nodded. "I'd like to see about getting a ride into Sector 7, and I've heard you're the one to talk to. That right?"

Sam sighed. "Ordinarily, I'd be happy to oblige. For a fee, of course. But I'm afraid you're outta luck tonight. Delivery service is closed until further notice. My apologies."