Angel
Arms & Diablo Blades: A Trigun Story by Jacob T. Long
The Good:
Vash the
Stampede (The Humanoid Typhoon) – the hero
“Derringer”
Meryl Stryfe – Bernardelli Insurance Agent, the hero’s love interest
“Stungun” Milly
Thompson – Bernardelli Insurance Agent
Frank Marlon –
gunsmith
Elizabeth –
plant technician
The Bad:
Knives Millions
– Vash’s brother, sadistic homicidal maniac
Brilliant
Dynamites Neon – leader of the Bad Lads Gang
The Ugly:
Maxwell Snyder –
sadistic homicidal maniac
I.
Knives Wakes
“Is that him?”
Vash
knew there would be questions and perhaps this was the least important one; it
was a painfully obvious question and that is why he had expected Milly to ask
it. But he smiled in spite of himself because Meryl had surprised him.
“Yes,
it is.”
A
million words could have been said. Knives had much to atone for and he would
probably be unwilling to do so, but Vash was determined like the red cloak he
had worn for so long.
Red was the color of determination, after all.
“He
looks so peaceful asleep. Almost like a…” Milly began, but she stopped. Vash
knew that she was thinking about Wolfwood. Undoubtedly, she was wondering how
someone who had done so much wrong and been responsible for the deaths of dear
friends could look so peaceful asleep.
“It’s
okay, girls. He’s not going to hurt anyone ever again. I’m going to take care
of him just like I promised Rem a long time ago.”
Meryl
nodded. She was not sure how this was going to work out, but she had learned to
never mistrust Vash. Vash would make
this work somehow and they would all be better for it. Especially Knives, she
hoped, because there was no way that they could go through it all over again.
No
one looked at them. The water was still spewing into the sky from the well that
had been dug. The townsfolk were celebrating.
 |
| Vash the Stampede |
This will work, Meryl Stryfe decided.
But
if it didn’t more people would die.
This has to work.
Vash the Stampede
nodded as if he had read her thoughts.
“This is a new
beginning,” he said, “a new Eden.”
He remembered
the blast. He remembered screaming, “Are you going shoot me again? Are you
seriously going to shoot me again, Vash?” But that wasn’t the last time. No,
last time had been different. He still had his legs, he knew. He could feel
them through the sheets.
“Too sentimental
to even kill me, the bane of your existence, aren’t you, Vash?” He whispered to
empty room. “Doesn’t he know he’ll regret this?”
The door opened
and a woman he did not know walked through, but he saw the resemblance
immediately and realized that this was Vash’s woman. It wouldn’t even surprise
him if he found out that she was a descendent of Rem. He thought he’d gotten
rid of all of her blood, but maybe one or two did escape his grasp. The black
hair, the slim figure, and the shape of her jaw all suggested Rem’s blood. The
skin was different, though. This woman was too pale.
He could see
that she was a bit surprised to see him awake so soon.
Good. I like her surprised. I’m sure I’ll
like her even better once she’s scared and dying.
Knives forced
himself to sit up in bed. The pain was intense, but it was nothing like losing
his legs to Vash’s angel arm so long ago. He could live with a little lead in
his blood.
The woman tried
to paint a smile on her face, but he saw it was strained.
“It’s good to
see you awake, Mr. Knives. I’ve brought you some breakfast.”
Knives clenched
his hands into fists. The movements brought another wave of pain, but he supposed he
could still cross the room and slap that smile off her face without expending too
much energy.
The woman looked
around the room, unsure of what to do next. Then she remembered the tray she
was holding. She gently set it down on a bedside table.
I could kill her with one hand and she knows
that. I can see it on her face and yet she braved it out to be this close to me.
She obviously has no idea just who I am or what I can do.
“Please eat all
your food, Mr. Knives. Vash wants you to get better soon.”
Vash!
Knives grabbed
at the woman’s arm and squeezed hard. “Do you think I am some bitch’s suckling
babe? Don’t you know who I am? Don’t you know what I am, human?”
The woman stayed
silent despite the pain and she returned his intense stare. Knives wasn’t sure
which frustrated him more.
With an effort
Knives tossed her across the room. The bedside table shook from the force and
the door slammed shut as the woman hit it. She was out cold from the impact.
“Take that, you
bitch.”
To his left he
saw the window, it was barred. It was no more than three paces away, but as he
stood up his vision swayed and the three paces looked more like three iles. One
agonizing step at a time he reached the window. He smashed his fists through
the glass and pulled at the bars on the other side.
“I am no
prisoner,” he muttered. “This isn’t over, Vash. It’s far from over.”
The bars were
bending inward, but not fast enough. He could hear footsteps rushing down the
hall toward the room. If he had been at full strength he would have ripped the
bars off and jumped down the three stories to the ground in an instant, but he
was still exhausted from his battle with Vash.
“Vash didn’t do
this to me. It was my fault. I should have realized the toll that using two
angel arms at once would have taken on me. But next time I’ll be prepared.”
Someone was at
the door and pounding on it. The doorknob wouldn’t turn because the force of
the blow Knives had dealt had jammed it shut.
“Meryl, are you
okay? Don’t you dare hurt her, Knives. Don’t you dare! Meryl, say something.”
It was Vash. Of
course, it was. Only Vash could sound that whiny.
Knives pulled harder on the bars and they finally gave way, but as he dropped them on
the floor Vash broke through the door using his false arm as a battering ram. Both
of Vash’s guns were drawn and his eyes never turned away from Knives even as he
slammed into the ground.
The pieces of
wood from the door flew around the woman, but none of them seemed to cause her
harm.
How unfortunate. It would have been great to
have Vash be solely responsible for her death, too.
“It feels like
we’ve been here before, right, Vash? It seems that every time I see you you’ve
got a gun pointed at me. Are you going to finish things this time? I’m weak,
Vash. Now is the time. Do it now or else it’ll be me who kills you.”
Vash shook his
head and checked on Meryl’s condition with the blink of an eye. “Why did you
hurt her? She’s just trying to help you.”
Knives grew
enraged. He forgot all about the open window he had tried so hard to make or
the open door. Escaping now would make him look like a coward in his brother’s
eyes and he would not have that. He’d rather die.
Why does his opinion still matter to me?
Why? He’s a worthless human-lover.
“Do you honestly
think I’ll let a human be my caretaker? There have been many stupid things you
have done, Vash, but this assumption you make is the worse.”
He wished he
could use his angel arm again more than anything.
Vash stood up,
wiped off his pants, and put his guns away. “Weren’t the Gung-Ho Guns your
caretakers while you were wounded and re-growing your legs? Legato was your
eyes and ears and ultimately your own hand. The funny thing is that he had my hand, didn’t he? Don’t you think that
means something? You need me, Knives. You’ve always needed me and you need me now
more than ever.”
The hands Vash
gently placed on his shoulders surprised him.
“I’m sorry,”
Vash said as he stared deep into the eyes of the man who had caused him so much
grief and misery. “Truly sorry.”
Those green eyes
that Knives had dreamed about so often no longer seemed to carry an infinite
sadness.
Something is wrong. Why has he changed? How-
The knee Vash
planted in his groin caught him off guard and drained him completely of any
energy he had managed to regain since waking up.
Knives fell to
his knees and his vision became black at the edges. “Where’s Vash? What have
you done with…VASH!!?”
Then his face
hit the floor and spittle dripped out of his mouth as unconsciousness reclaimed
him.
Vash knelt over
Meryl and picked her up gently. “You shouldn’t have been in this room alone.
He’s still angry at the world and at me. He needs more time.”
“Is she okay?”
Milly Thompson asked timidly. She was standing outside the door with Wolfwood’s
punisher, the cross filled with mercy and enough lead to kill a
small army.
Vash nodded.
“She’ll be fine. It was a mistake to let her in that room alone, though.”
“But Meryl can
take care of herself.” Milly nodded. She set down Wolfwood’s punisher and
tapped it to shove the point home.
Meryl Stryfe
always carried dozens of smaller guns under her white cape. Since Knives was still
out of it Vash knew that Meryl could have easily overpowered him.
“You’ve been
spending too much time with me,” Vash said, but he smiled as he said it. Ever
so slightly he kissed her forehead as he carried her to the room they shared.
“But we can’t have you being covered in scars like me. Then you wouldn’t look
as good naked.” This time Vash’s smile was much different and the yellow
glasses he wore steamed over.
II.
The Second July
The town had no
name that he could see. Large chunks of some strange satellite had been built
around the city to make a wall long ago, but now only a small portion of that
great wall remained. The section was about four acres long, just large
enough to provide him with some cover. What few people he could see through
cracks and crevices appeared to be walking around in a state of stupor.
Clearly, the outside world did not exist to these wretched people even though
their precious wall was long gone.
“Well, I hope
they don’t mind me barging in like this.”
The hole he had
made with his fist without as much as a sound.
“Lambs to
slaughter,” he smiled.
A few more
punches and he was through the opening.
He came to an
alley in what seemed to be the poorest part of town. There were very few
people. Buildings were broken here and there, but many seemed to be in a
process of rebuild.
A dirty hobo sitting next to a dumpster looked up at him and frowned. The hobo was wearing a bathrobe but nothing else.
Ah, my first encounter with a native of this
filthy planet.
“Tell me, my
odious friend, why is this town so pathetic-looking?”
The hobo
laughed. “You mean you don’t know what happened here 23 years ago?”
He didn’t really
care about the town’s history at all; he just wanted an excuse to do what
needed to be done. But he frowned and said that he had no idea. “Please, I’d
love for you to tell me.”
The hobo eyed
him. “You must live under a rock! This here is the town of July. 23 years ago the Humanoid Typhoon
blasted the town all to hell. Everyone survived, but many people went insane
and killed themselves. Many people left, but a lot of other people came, too. Some
are trying to help rebuild the place while others are trying to destroy what
has been rebuilt, the filthy bandits.” The hobo nodded. “Yessir, this used to
be a peaceful town. But it’s been hell since Vash the Stampede.” The hobo spat.
“May the bastard rot in hell.”
“My, how tragic,
how very tragic a tale you’ve told me.” He nodded, trying to look sympathetic
to the filthy man’s plight, but inside he was gleaming. “Tell me, how did he
manage to destroy an entire town without killing anyone? That’s quite a feat.”
The hobo shook
his head. “The Humanoid Typhoon wants people to live to spread tales about him. He
wants to see them suffer and folks can’t suffer if they’re dead. Death is too
much of a mercy for that fiend. He’ll only kill when he grows bored and there’s
nothing else for him to do.”
He shook his
head, impatient. “What I meant was, was there some sort of brilliantly aimed blast
that leveled the entire town without killing anyone? Or was there some sort of
sorcery? Say, this Vash mumbled some words and blinked his eyes and the town
fell to ruin with the people unharmed. That sort of thing?”
The hobo said,
“Aye, there was a blast. Just like there was a blast in Augusta that put a hole in the Fifth Moon.
The Humanoid Typhoon’s gun is tremendous. I certainly hope you’re not trying to go
after the bounty on his head. Is that why you are so interested in him? ‘Cuz
you’ll get yourself killed and only serve to rile him up further.”
Bounty, huh? This Vash sounds more like me
by the telling…
“Well,” he said,
“I must leave you now, but I’ll gladly relieve the pain that you and so many
others have endured.”
With a snap of
the fingers, the town dissolved in light before him. The hobo’s cry of pain and
fear was never heard above the blast and the flesh ripping from his face could
only be seen for a moment.
When it was over
the town was still standing, completely untouched, but all of the people were
gone.
“I must find
this Vash,” he decided. “It sounds like we could make a good team.”
Maxwell Snyder
inspected the town. He decided that it would be a perfect location for the new
prison. It needed to be larger if it was going to hold all of the king’s
enemies, but there were undoubtedly other towns that needed to be cleansed.
In front of what
could only have been the sheriff’s office was a flyer posted on a bulletin
board.
So this is the face of the infamous Humanoid
Typhoon.
The face wasn’t
particularly remarkable because the drawing was in black and white, but the
price was what fascinated him.
“What an odd
number. I wish I would have left someone alive who’d be able to read it to me.”
But there were
eleven numbers before the decimal and Snyder knew that had to be quite a lot.
Vash could not
believe what he was hearing from the townsfolk. July was gone again. Someone
had single-handedly wiped away every trace of the human populace.
Only Knives or
the Gung-Ho Guns could only be responsible for something like that, Vash knew. But
the Gung-Ho Guns were all dead and Knives was in a bed down the hall, resting
once again.
Who could have done that? Who?
A hand patted
his chest. “Is something wrong?”
Vash didn’t want
to tell Meryl what he had overheard in the saloon. Trouble had always followed
Vash and when Vash met Milly and Meryl trouble had begun to follow them, too.
But the trouble
was supposed to be over now. Knives had been defeated and no one in this town
was after the price on Vash’s head because they had discovered him to be a
truly peaceful man.
This was
supposed to be the start of a new Eden.
But trouble was
starting again and he didn’t want Meryl to know.
“Everything’s
fine,” he patted her hand. “Go back to sleep. You’ve had a rough day.”
What am I going to do? I want to stay here.
I don’t want to leave again.
Vash stared at
the ceiling as Meryl lay beside him. He wasn’t seeing the ceiling, though. Or
even the sky.
He was seeing
Knives as he had been as a child and Rem as she had been the last time he had seen
her. He was seeing the angel arm that had destroyed the cities of July and Augusta. He was seeing
his brother’s obnoxious smile as he had stood over the bodies of the dead.
If I have to leave I’ll take Knives with me and leave the girls here. They can’t follow me
again.
Of course, he
had tried to make them stop following him before and it hadn’t worked.
But maybe the
incident with Legato had changed things. Maybe they wouldn’t follow him this
time.
Vash’s eyes
scanned the two guns sitting on the counter on the wall to his left. The guns
that he and Knives had used in their duel sat side by side. They were guns that
had faced each other too many times, but maybe just this one time they would be
used together and for something more important than trying to shoot a brother.
III.
Frank Sees Horses in a Dead
Town
Frank Marlon was
a gunsmith that had at one time been a drunk, but Vash had saved him. Frank was
eternally grateful to him and even though he had not seen him since that one
time, he was not going to listen to the new rumors. The first July and the
thing with Augusta and the Fifth Moon were undoubtedly something that Vash had
been involved in, but the new attack on July? Frank Marlon didn’t buy it
because he knew that the Humanoid Typhoon, the gunman with spiked blond hair
and green eyes, did not kill people. He may leave a town in rumble, but he would
not take a single life.
So who did it?
Frank didn’t want to know, but he figured that Vash would do something about
it. That’s just the type of thing the crazy gunman who didn’t like killing
would do, he figured.
But he did not
expect the man responsible for the second attack on July to waltz right through
the door to his office.
“May I help you,
sir?” he asked the gentlemen in the khaki pants and the black shirt. Who the hell wears black in this heat? Is
this guy nuts?
The man had
short black hair and deep brown eyes that seemed to dissect Frank from a
distance. Why do I have the feeling that
he just discovered everything about me with one glance, like he just stared
into my soul or something? It was nonsense to feel that way, but he could
not help it. This stranger gave him the creeps big time.
The picture the
man was carrying sent the chills home; it was the ever-popular wanted poster
for Vash the Stampede.
“Tell me, Mr.
Marlon,” the man began, “have you ever met this man?”
“No, I haven’t,”
Frank Marlon said at once. The stranger looked too soft to be a bounty hunter,
but there was a certain steel in the man’s eyes that Frank did not like and that
knowing feeling continued to haunt
him.
“Are you sure?
Rumor tells that you are quite the gunsmith and that the great Vash has even
paid you a visit on occasion.” The man smiled and Frank liked that smile even
less than the stare. Vash had smiled with a great sadness, but this guy smiled with
a great glee.
No one should look that happy in this day
and age, especially not after the second attack on July.
“I wouldn’t dare
pay my services to no killer,” Frank said and slammed his fists on his desk to
send the point home.
The man laughed.
“Quite the queer statement coming from a gunsmith, isn’t it? Well, if you
haven’t seen him or his gun, then maybe you can still be of use to me. I want
you to fix this.”
The stranger
reached into his pocket and pulled out a sharp knife, a red switchblade that
had rusted to where it would not shut. He dropped it on the desk in front of
Frank. “I’m no gunman,” the man said. “I find guns to be completely unnecessary
and entirely too crass. I much prefer the feel of a simple knife, but my blade
is quite old and fragile. The edge is dull and it cannot cut cleanly anymore. I
want you to fix it for me, Mr. Marlon.”
Frank shook his
head. “I’ve never fixed knives before, Mister. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
The man looked a
bit crestfallen. “I see. Can you tell me the name of someone who can fix my
knife?”
“Well, no one
here has much use for knives. Bandits prefer to use guns and it is hard to
defend yourself against one with nothing less than a gun.” Although Vash could make do with just a finger in a pocket and a knife
tucked away in his shoe.
“How
unfortunate. I guess I don’t have a purpose to be in this town any longer. Have
a good day.” The stranger turned to leave, put his hand on the doorknob, but stopped just short of twisting it. “Tell me, Mr. Marlon,” the man said with his back turned, “Have you ever met a traveling man of the cloth?”
Wolfwood, Marlon thought. He knows about him, too. But how? “Never have been much in need of priests, but there are quite a few of them. A lot of people are dying these days.”
“Like your wife
and child?”
Marlon could not
believe it. No one in town would have volunteered that information to a
complete stranger. Maybe once they would have, but not now. Not after Vash had
saved him and he had redeemed himself.
“Who the hell
are you? And how dare you talk about them, you little shit. On second thought I
don’t care who you are. Just get the hell out of here before I throw you out!”
Without another
word the stranger left, but Marlon did not like that either. Any ordinary
scumbag would have stayed and fought after being told off like that, but this
guy was something else. This guy was cold and calculating with a strong thirst
for blood. After dealing with many gunmen in his life, he had learned to
identify the crazies.
As he was about
to sit back down, he realized that the stranger had forgotten his knife. He
opened the door to toss it out when a bright light blinded him. It lasted only
for a moment and then it was gone.
Was that some sort of solar flare?
The stranger was
gone. Mumbling, he put the rusty knife back on his desk and went to the saloon
to ask if anyone else had seen the stranger or that weird bright light. He did
not drink much anymore, but he did enjoy the company and saloons were the best places to discover information about someone.
As he pushed
through the doors he realized that the place was deserted.
And it wasn’t
just the saloon. The streets were without people. The cars, the horses, and
every building that Frank investigated had been robbed of people.
This is just
like the second attack on July, he realized.
That guy! He’s the one who did it. But why
did he leave me alive and take everybody else?
He ran to his
car and stared at the horses. The horses were unharmed, too. Scared as hell,
but otherwise unharmed.
Never thought I’d have so much in common
with a horse.
Frank Marlon
decided that he had to find Vash. Vash would help him again, he just had to.
He climbed into his car, put the pedal
to the floor, and sped out of the newly dead town.
Maxwell Snyder
grinned as he watched Frank leave. The mouse had been set after the cheese.
Frank would find Vash for him and then Snyder would see if the Humanoid Typhoon
was really all he had cracked up to be. Judging from Marlon’s thoughts, the man
in the red cloak appeared to be a witless peace-lover. But maybe there was
something more. Certainly a man who had destroyed two towns had to have some
sort of merit.
Snyder
ran after the frightened gunsmith and jumped into the backseat of his car.
Foolish mortal can’t even see me now. He
wanted to laugh so badly at that moment, but if he did it would give his position
away. Take me to Vash, you fool. Take me
to this Sixty Billion Double Dollar
Man.
IV. Knives for Dinner
(I)
This
time a different woman stood over him, trying to hand him breakfast. She was
rather tall, with long flowing brown hair, and garbed in an ugly yellow dress
that made her look pregnant. On second glance, he decided that she probably was
pregnant. Human eyes probably would not have been able to discern that, but Knives was not human.
“Here’s
your breakfast, Mr. Knives.”
He
could see the late preacher’s cross slung across her back. “So you were the
wench of Chapel’s boy.” Knives smiled. “I suppose that makes you good for
something. I could use another Gung-Ho Gun. I can only hope that the child
inside you doesn’t grow to be as undependable as the father. Maybe I can
provide a much better form of influence.”
 |
| Milly Thompson |
The
pain was written on the stupid woman’s face, but she did not strike him even
though he knew that she wanted to. “You’re nothing like Vash, Mr. Knives. And
Mr. Wolfwood was nothing like you. He was kind and gentle and loving and
everything you are not.”
Knives
shrugged. “Maybe if Wolfwood had been more like me he’d still be alive, don’t
you think? At the very least he would have died with honor instead of dying on
his knees, praying to an invisible goblin on a cross.”
This
time she did strike him and she did so with the cross that she carried,
Wolfwood’s punisher.
Knives
laughed despite the stinging pain to both his face and his pride. “I promise
you that I’ll rip that babe from your stomach for that and that will be the end
of the Wolfwoods once and for all.”
Milly
Thompson ran from the room. It was either that or kill him and she had made a
promise to Vash that no harm would come to his brother.
But
it was so hard, so hard to not just reach for the punisher on her back and blow
him away.
Doing
that would make Wolfwood, Vash, and Meryl upset though so she had to be strong
for them. She had to be strong.
But
the tears flowed like they had not since Wolfwood had died.
Am I really pregnant? How could he know? And
of all the people on the planet, why does he have to be the first one to tell
me?
When it came time
for dinner Meryl knocked on her door, but Milly told her that she wasn’t hungry
and that she was going to bed early. The real reason was that she did not want to be
around Knives again any time in the near future.
Ever
since Vash had brought him back they made it a custom to eat dinner in the room
where Knives laid. At all times the conversation was kept as pleasant as it
could be and it never strayed from course no matter what Knives shouted at
them. And Knives did like to shout. He shouted horrible things about Vash and
Wolfwood, but what Knives had told her a moment ago was the worst. He had
stolen a true blessing from her. Wolfwood had left her with child and Knives
had seen it before she had.
No,
she did not want to see Knives ever again.
But
she had to be strong. Vash believed he could change so she would believe the
same. She was not about to betray her trust in Vash.
V. Protective Posse
“Come
on, gang, someone is coming this way!”
Brilliant
Dynamites Neon waited impatiently as the lookout used the scaffold to climb his
way down the building.
The
Bad Lads Gang had expected a big score in this town, but there was no one here.
They made off with a lot of loot, but Neon took no pride in it. The score had
not been earned. There was almost no point in taking anything because there was
no honor in it. A man should be given the chance to fight for what is his, Neon
believed. It shouldn’t just be taken while no one is there to defend it. Only
cravens engage in that behavior.
But
Neon had little choice. Towns were disappearing at an alarming rate and Neon
had a feeling that the people would never return. These goods had to be put to
some use, he figured.
Now
that someone was coming it made things interesting, but one man in a car was
scarcely a fight. As long as he didn’t do anything stupid, Neon figured he
would let the guy pass through and wish him luck.
 |
| Brilliant Dynamites Neon |
“I
want him left alone,” Neon called out. “Anyone who shoots at him will answer to
me! So let’s have some class and shine, boys.”
The
car entered the town quickly, slowed to a crawl for whatever reasons, sped up
again, and then came to a full stop at the center of town. The man jumped out
of the car, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Hello!” He waited
for a response. When the only thing he heard was his echo he shouted “Is there
anybody here left alive?”
Neon
decided to give the guy a break and make his presence known, if only because he
was a little tired of seeing lifeless towns as much as this guy appeared to be.
“The
name is Brilliant Dynamites Neon,” he said as he stepped out of the entrance to
the bank. “You’re the first person we’ve seen all day.”
One
by one the members of the Bad Lads Gang stepped forward and introduced themselves.
There were at least a dozen of them present including Neon, but a few more were
scattered throughout the town looking for loot and anybody chance had left
alive.
“You’re
all bandits,” the man remarked. “You’re robbing this town.”
Neon
had to give the man credit because he was outnumbered and outgunned, but he
showed no trace of fear.
“We’re
not going to hurt you,” Neon smiled. “Bandits we may be, but we shine. It
wouldn’t be flashy to gang up on you so we are letting you go.”
The
man nodded. “I appreciate your courtesy, but I need to know something. Have you
seen anybody alive at all? I just came from a dead town and I saw who did it. I
saw him.”
Neon
frowned. “It wasn’t a guy with spiky blond hair and a red coat, was it?
“You
mean you know Vash the Stampede, too?”
Well, this is interesting. Seems this guy is
Vash’s friend.
“I’ve had a run in
with him, I guess you could say. He’s a real class act. Got a certain shine.
Are you looking for Vash?”
The
man shook his head. “I know where to find him, but I’ve been driving by towns
trying to warn people. So far I haven’t seen a soul until now.”
Neon’s
frown deepened. “You say you saw the guy who’s been doing all of this?”
The
man nodded. “He’s got slicked-back black hair, khaki pants, and a black shirt.
He’s skinny and looks a bit frail, but he has steel in his eyes. And when he
looks at you it’s like…” he broke off. Maybe he realized that he was in the
presence of bandits again and didn’t want to start waxing poetic.
But
Neon knew what the man was talking about. In his life he had seen one man with
a truly penetrating stare and that man had been Vash the Stampede. It would be
interesting to see another.
Perhaps
he would follow this guy to Vash and maybe the black haired stranger that this
friend of Vash’s was talking about would follow, too. After all, trouble always
did follow the man in red.
“What’s
your name?” Neon asked him.
“I’m
Frank Marlon.”
Well, I’ll be damned. “Frank Marlon the
gunsmith?”
“That’s
right, buddy. Although a lot people knew me for a long time as Frank Marlon the
drunk.”
Neon
nodded. “So I’ve heard. Well, listen up Mr. Marlon because I’ve got an offer
for you. We’ll be more than glad to travel with you. We’ll be your protective
posse. How do you like the sound of that, Mr. Marlon?”
Frank
Marlon scratched his head. He didn’t like the idea of being surrounded by a
bunch of strange armed men. Especially bank robbers. His wife and child had
been killed in a bank robbery, after all.
But
these were damn scary times and sometimes help had to come from the most
unexpected of sources.
The
only thing that bothered him was…
“What
do want in return?”
Neon
smiled and tipped his hat. “A duel with Vash, of course. We never did have a
proper one.”
VI. Knives for Dinner
(II)
Milly
was absent again.
Guess I hit a real nerve.
Knives smiled at
Vash and Meryl.
He dreamed about
killing them by stuffing all that food down their throats until they choked on
it.
But
he found himself growing hungry and he could not remember the last time he had
eaten anything.
He
could not stand them chattering any more. That absurd polite conversation was
going to kill him if nothing else did. Didn’t they fear him anymore? Didn’t
they fear what he could do to them?
“Shup
up,” he screamed. “I’m sick of it! Just kill me or let me kill myself, but stop
fucking talking my ears off!”
Vash
frowned. “I strongly disapprove of suicide and you know how I feel about-”
“Oh,
I know all of your jargon. You’ve bored me with it for a hundred and thirty
years, now can’t I get a break from it for five fucking minutes?”
“Do
you really want me let you go?” his brother asked. “I can’t keep you in this
room forever. I can’t even keep you around me forever. I just hope I can help
you, Knives. I want to take care of you. If you don’t want my help you can get
up and leave right now.”
Meryl’s
eyes shifted from Knives to Vash. Knives supposed that she was as surprised by
the offer as he was.
What does he want from me? Why does he say
that he wants to help me?
“I don’t need your
help, Vash. I’ll never need your help.”
“Then
why did you keep me around for so long? I opposed your views and everything you
did. I was your biggest threat and yet you never drew a gun on me until the
very end. You sent others to do what you could not. Not until I showed you just
how strong I was and even then I overpowered you. You have no one to cower
behind. You need me, Knives.”
Where is this coming from? This isn’t the
craven I remember.
“Please
stay here with us, Mr. Knives,” Meryl said. “We’d love for you to stay.”
After
he had beaten the woman senseless, after he had made Vash kill at long last,
and after he had done his damnedest to kill everything Vash loved and stood for…
Knives was being embraced. He could not understand it.
 |
| Knives Millions |
“I’ll
kill you both,” he said. “I will.”
They
smiled.
“It’s okay to be
angry when you’ve been alone for so long,” Meryl said. “You don’t know how to
be any different. You were hurt by people when you were younger and you hate
them for it, but you have to deal with those feelings. We’re here for you.”
Was he going
mad? Knives could not understand the logic of the human. “I would have killed
every human being and I would have killed you, Vash. And one day I will do both.”
“Then start
now.” Vash tossed the gun that Knives remembered so well onto his bed. “Point
it at my head. Kill me. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Vash, no!”
Meryl shouted, but he cut her off.
“This is the way it
has to be. Now leave the room.”
“But-”
“I said leave
now!”
Knives stared at
the gun. He grabbed for it, unable to believe that was holding it. He checked
the ammo and discovered it to be loaded. While he doubted he could use his
angel arm in his weakened condition, there was no doubt that he really could
kill them.
Meryl
walked out of the room slowly, but she didn’t go too far. Knives knew that she
was armed and would step in if she thought Vash really was threatened.
Too
bad she wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
Knives
raised his gun and pointed it at Vash’s forehead.
“What
game are you playing, Vash?”
Vash
pushed his round yellow glasses up his nose as he always did when he was about
to get serious and waited for Knives to make his move.
“Are
you really going to let me kill you?”
Vash
shook his head. “I’m going to let you try.”
The
metal prosthetic arm spat out the hidden gun and Vash pointed it at Knives.
“I
don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to. I want to take care of you, but I
can’t if you won’t let me.”
Knives
laughed. “You won’t kill anyone. You’re too soft."
But
as he said it, he began to wonder. Vash’s finger really was tightening up on
the trigger while Knives had yet to exert any pressure on his own trigger.
Since when does Vash ever make the first
move?
“What happened to
you, Vash? You used to be so…”
Vash
nodded. “I used to be a lot of things. But you changed me. Maybe you actually
changed me for the better.”
“I’ve
done nothing but torture you.”
“And
I’ll do nothing but help you until my last breath. If that comes by your gun
then I guess I’ll just have to accept that and die.”
Knives
tightened his grip on the trigger and he saw Vash do the same. It was tough to
tell who would take the first bullet. Vash’s prosthetic gun had more of a kick
and the recoil might change the bullet’s trajectory and delay it just long
enough for Knives’s bullet to make impact first. Either way they would both
die.
Sweat
dripped down their foreheads and they breathed deeply. They stood on opposite
sides of each other’s barrels, but their actions were still the same: breathe
deep, try not to blink, and slowly exhale.
“Is
killing me worth your own life, Knives? I must know this. I must know what you
think your life is worth!”
Knives
couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “I am a superior being.”
“What
does that mean? How are you superior?”
“What
are talking about, Vash? I’ve told you that I kill the spiders and save the
butterflies. A human would not do that. I am better than they are.”
Vash
shook his head. “Actually many humans would do that. So maybe you have a lot
more in common with them than you think.”
Knives
felt like he had been kneed in the gut again. “Shut up! You shut your damn
mouth now! Humans are garbage and I’ll kill them all!” He pulled the trigger
and the sound of bullets echoed throughout the night.
He
ran through the town, ducking at the sight of people. He dodged into alleys,
hoping for a way out of town. Something had to be wrong with him. He had Vash
dead to rights, but all of his bullets had missed the mark.
And Vash hadn’t even fired a single shot,
damn him.
The woman named
Meryl had bounded into the room reaching for her Derringer-style disposable
pistols, but Knives had pulled the bars off his window once again and jumped
the three stories to the ground.
It
was one thing to not kill Vash, but how could he have not killed that woman? If
he had just managed to grab her then Vash would be reduced back to the
blubbering idiot that Knives remembered so well.
Somewhere
in the dark alley a man’s hands reached out to Knives. “Please help a blind
man, Mister! My dog ran off and I’m in a strange part of town.”
Knives
smiled. “I’ve got your dog right here.” He slammed the butt of his gun down on
the man’s face once and listened as he cried out in pain. Then he did it again
and again. Each time he heard him cry and each time his smile widened.
“I’ll
never change, Vash. Never.”
One
last time he brought the butt of his gun down and the man’s skull broke like a
damn and brains spilled out onto the wall and sidewalk.
“Never,”
he said one last time and ran off into the darkness.
Meryl
was yelling at him. He supposed that he should have expected her to get upset,
but it was the only way; Knives wasn’t going to change by himself. He was going
to need a lot of help and lot of care.
“He
could have killed you!”
Vash
shook his head. “I’ve gotten to him. All his life he’s only known how to
express his anger and hatred. He doesn’t know gratitude or love yet.”
“So
you mean that because he didn’t kill you it means that he is thankful to you
for saving his life and that he loves you? That’s nuts!”
“He
could have killed me, Meryl.”
She
let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s why I’m so pissed, you dope.”
“But
he didn’t. The first step has been taken. Now it is time for the second.”
“And
just what the hell is the second?”
Vash
shrugged and put on a goofy smile, “To tell you the truth I’m really not too
sure yet. Just kind of winging it, you know?”
Meryl
punched him in the face. “It’s a good thing Knives left this room unoccupied
because you can sleep in here tonight.”
 |
| Meryl Stryfe |
“But-”
She slammed the
door in his face before he could say anything else.
That
is when he heard the scream of pain from somewhere off in the distance.
Knives, why is it that you always have to hurt
people? You claim you are a superior being, but shouldn’t you show them how to
make themselves better instead cutting them down.
Vash prayed for
the soul of whoever Knives had hurt and jumped out of the broken window.
The landlord is going to be pissed to find
out that we broke his window again. Hopefully, he won’t force the girls out
onto the street. Then Meryl will really be pissed at me.
He chased after
Knives and decided that he was going to keep chasing because there were only
two options left: Knives could change for the better or he could die.
But
what mattered is that Knives was given the chance.
Rem
might or might not have agreed with that, but Vash had decided not too long ago
that it was time for him to live by his own standards and his own morals. Rem’s
had served him well though and he still hoped that he would make her proud.
VII. A Convenient
Meeting
Brilliant
Dynamites Neon looked over his shoulder again. He noticed Frank Marlon doing
the same thing from time to time.
Something’s out there following us.
Neon
was not superstitious, but he was not stupid. He hadn’t lived this long based
solely on blind luck. Maybe Vash the Stampede could do that, but not Neon. That
just wasn’t his style. No, something was definitely out there. Even the rest of
the Bad Lads were looking back, too.
They
rode on bikes and cars, but Neon led the pack in his large armored money truck
that been conveniently fitted with a large anti-tank gun that would have
deterred any would-be bank robbers. Too bad no one had been around in the last
town to use it to protect the money because that would have been a worthy effort
indeed.
But
armed as he was, Neon still sat uneasy.
A
man who could wipe away entire towns in the blink of an eye could not be
underestimated.
It
wasn’t until Neon eyed his mirror once again to check on Frank Marlon, who was
driving further back in the pack surrounded on all sides by Bad Lads, that he saw
something that turned his sense of unease into a sense of terror.
Someone is there.
All
he could see was an white outline in the shape of a person. It could have been
nothing more than a mirage, but this mirage was casting a shadow on the trunk
of the car.
He’s just sitting there in the backseat of
Frank’s car. And Frank can feel him, but he doesn’t see him like I can. He
doesn’t see the shadow, either.
Neon
immediately spun his truck around and gave the signal to his Bad Lads to
disperse away from Frank Marlon’s car.
His
men were undoubtedly questioning his motives, but after so many heists and
close calls they would not disobey him. They knew him and they knew he would
have a good reason. They drove far enough away from the car and drew their
guns.
“Get
the hell out of your car, you damn fool! He’s right behind you.” To the Bad
Lads he shouted, “All of you hold your fire!”
Between
the seats of the truck was a knob with a red button; the knob would fix the
gun’s location and the red button would make things go boom.
Frank
Marlon jumped out of his moving car when he saw the anti-tank gun pointed his way and fell hard on the ground. They weren’t
on loose sand, either. The fall would bruise if not crack the man’s ribs.
Better than being dead, though.
Neon followed
the path of the renegade car as it slowed down.
There. The shadow was on the ground now,
moving away from Neon. That vague outline of a person was there, too.
He
locked onto that outline and pushed the red button.
The
gun that sat atop the hood of the truck fired and Neon could see the bullet as
it traveled almost as if it was in slow motion.
The
outline stopped and the shadow pivoted.
He’s trying to dodge the bullet.
The bullet sped
onward and it was an instant before impact. This strange person was going to grow
a hole in his head and Neon was curious to see if his blood would be invisible, too.
But
then the outline just vanished and the shadow followed.
Neon
could not believe it. The bullet flew unobstructed through the air and hit
nothing.
Who in the hell is this guy?
“What the hell was
that?” Frank Marlon shouted as he grabbed his right side. “I’d never seen
anything like that before!”
Neon
nodded. “Neither have I. I just know that we are in trouble, seriously deep
trouble.” After a moment he realized that he was smiling, “And today just got a
whole lot more interesting.”
After he took a
deep breath he shouted to his Bad Lads to help Frank Marlon back to his car so
they could all get going again.
Vash the Stampede is waiting for us even if
he doesn’t know it yet. And once we find Vash I have no doubt that our
invisible friend will show his true colors. Then I’ll have a chance to get them
both.
Maxwell Snyder
could not believe it. He had been spotted by that big lumbering oaf in that
ridiculous white suit with the shoulder pads covered in neon.
Well, there goes my ride.
People on this
strange world named Gunsmoke appeared to be mostly idiots, but there were those
like that fellow named Neon and this strange Humanoid Typhoon which made him
wonder if he had chosen the wrong planet. Maybe he had even chosen the wrong
dimension.
Of course, he
was stronger than any of them and smarter, too. But people were a lot like
cockroaches and just one could sneak up on you and catch you napping.
But this planet
was perfect. He could picture all of the prisoners from the Kingdom of Mars
sweating to death under the intense heat of the multiple suns of this world.
Yes, this was the world. And once all of the scumbags were here, Maxwell would
start transferring everybody else here, too. Then he would be king. Or better
yet, he would become a god. He liked the sound of that a lot more.
Guess I better get moving. I can’t become a
god if I stand around and do nothing.
He walked for
hours. The suns set and then the suns rose and then they set again.
Snyder was not
sure how many days he had been walking for, but he didn’t care. Time was
nothing to him.
For him
centuries passed in the blink of an eye and millenniums were nothing more than
a long day.
Recalling a line
from a movie that was either ancient or new depending on which dimension he traveled, he said, “Death has come to
your town, Sheriff.”
After
a few more hours passed by he saw someone. The man was dressed in a peculiar
blue and white suit. It reminded him of something out of a movie.
It
looked like one of those suits the Romulans might have worn on Star Trek.
They
were at least three miles apart from each other.
Or,
in the ridiculous terminology of the world, they were three “iles” away from
each other.
But
there were no dunes or cities to obscure their vision.
Maxwell
Snyder pulled the picture of Vash the Stampede out of his pocket.
The resemblance between them is uncanny.
Then something
else occurred to him: he was having trouble reading the man’s mind.
All
he could see were vague images that did not make much sense to him.
But
there were a few things he could see that made everything clear enough.
He
saw this man as a boy and this boy was staring up at the sky watching thousands of
people burn alive as they fell through space.
He
saw this man as a boy looking down on a child named Vash and kicking him for
being soft.
He
saw a word etched in blood on a stone in the center of a dead town: Knives.
“Hello, Knives,”
Maxwell Snyder called out. “It’s quite convenient meeting you here in a place
like this.”
Knives stared at
him, but did not return the greeting. He took another step forward and then he
collapsed onto the hard-packed sand.
Maxwell Snyder
frowned. “I suppose we’ll save the proper introductions for later.”
“I can’t believe
Mr. Vash left us in the middle of the night.”
Meryl could have
screamed. In fact, she already had several times and her voice was hoarse.
So maybe she could not have screamed, but she really wanted to. “I can’t
believe we actually let him bring Knives here.”
“Well, Knives
didn’t have anywhere else to stay and it would make Mr. Vash sad if we said
no.”
Sometimes she
wondered if they had all gone insane. Meryl found herself sleeping with the
infamous Humanoid Typhoon and adopting his views on life, Milly was pregnant
with the child of a late preacher who had been fond of guns and booze, and Vash
was trying to show his homicidal semi-immortal brother how to be human.
Nope, nothing is wrong here. All is
perfectly freaking normal.
“Hey, Meryl, do
you hear that?”
It was pretty
hard not to. Sound carried well in a desert and this sound was that of a
caravan.
Milly ran to the
window, the very same window that Knives had destroyed twice.
“Oh, you won’t
believe who is here, Meryl!”
Great, what now?
She went to the
window and her mouth would have fallen to the floor if it had not been
connected to her face.
“Isn’t that…”
Milly began.
Meryl gulped.
“It’s Brilliant Dynamites Neon and the Bad Lads Gang!”
Can’t we ever get a break?
“Well, who is
that with them?” Milly asked. “He looks very familiar and he doesn’t appear to
be one of the Bad Lads.”
“It’s… that
gunsmith. Remember, Milly? He used to be a drunk because he'd lost his family
in a bank robbery.”
“Oh, that’s Mr.
Mellon.”
“Marlon,” Meryl
corrected. “But what is he doing with the Bad Lads?”
Meryl got an
uneasy feeling in her chest. Something bad was about to happen very soon, she
knew.
Where the hell are you, Vash? Please get
back here. We need you.
“Oh, man, I’m so
lost!” Vash shouted. “I must have taken a wrong turn.”
The trail had
gone cold two days ago and the desert was only getting bigger the further he
went away from town.
But he had to
find Knives again. It had taken months to find him last time though and even
then it had been Wolfwood who had told him of Knives’s exact location.
Thinking about
him made Vash sad all over again and he wanted to cry.
 |
| Nicholas D. Wolfwood and his punisher |
He wished
Wolfwood would have told him about his past earlier.
I could have saved him. I could have. He
didn’t have to die.
And, at that
moment, a voice spoke to him. It was the voice of the late preacher, Nicholas
D. Wolfwood. He hadn’t heard that voice since he had battled Knives a week ago.
“You’re doing it
again, Needle Noggin.”
Vash nodded. He was
trying to change and trying to be more accepting of his flaws, but it was
difficult. His flaws had caused so many people to die.
“Dying is part
of the mortal condition,” Wolfwood told him from wherever he was. “So is pain.
Get used to it.”
Vash shrugged.
“I don’t want to.”
“Life
is never about what anybody wants. It just is and it is up to each of us to
make the best of it.”
Why did you have to die, Wolfwood? Why?
Step
after step passed by and he saw no sign of Knives or that strange man that
Brilliant Dynamites Neon and Frank Marlon had told him about.
It
had been so strange to see them out in the middle of the desert like that, but
he supposed it was a blessing in disguise. Now Milly and Meryl had someone to
protect them in case that invisible man came around.
Of
course, it had taken a bit of nudging to get Neon and his gang to go to town
without him.
“I’ll
do that, but you still owe me, Vash.” Neon had said. “You do remember?”
He
remembered just fine and he kind of looked forward to it because if he found
himself dueling Neon it would mean that he had survived all of this.
“Be
careful, Vash,” Frank had told him. “That guy is out there somewhere.”
Vash
nodded. “Is he a sniper?”
The
look Frank had given him was a strange one because he didn’t understand. Caine
the Longshot had been a mute sniper for the Gung-Ho Guns and he had worn a
cloak that would make him blend in to whatever his surroundings were. Of
course, Vash had watched Caine kill himself so this could not be him.
The
answer Frank had given Vash was truly puzzling.
“He
said he likes to use knives and that he isn’t a gunman.”
And
Vash had a terrible thought as he remembered his conversation with Frank and
Neon.
“Knives,”
he muttered. “What if this guy finds Knives?”
Knives
was not anywhere to be seen, but he was still very injured. Certainly he would
have collapsed somewhere within the last few iles. Vash had been circling the
city at a distance for hours.
“He’s
gone,” Vash frowned.
Frank
had said that he had made everyone in town disappear in a bright flash of
light. That sounded like something Legato Bluesummers could have done, but even
with Legato bodies would eventually be found in piles on the outskirts of town.
It’s the exact same thing and yet it’s
completely different. A stranger who is isn’t strange at all, but his motives
are a mystery.
After five more
hours of walking around, Vash had made a complete circle around the town.
Vash
began the long walk back to the city and the girls that were probably worried
sick about him.
They’ll find me again. Knives knows where I am even if this man
named Snyder does not.
Maxwell
Snyder had dug a cave in the side of a dune, heating the sand with his hands
until it had turned into a substance resembling glass but with the texture of
sandpaper. They were a hundred iles east of the town Vash had claimed to be
home. Knives was tossing and turning in the bed of sand that Snyder had made.
“This
one is quite intriguing,” he nodded. “He’s not human, but he looks like one. No
one would know from the look of him, but he has done more harm to this world than
anyone could guess. Yes, I think I like him… and his name. A great name
indeed.”
Snyder
pulled the old rusty knife out of his pocket. It was true that he had left it
behind in the city of July,
but the knife always found its way back to him. It was dependable in the way
that only a knife could be.
The
poor thing just needed to be sharpened.
“Maybe
my new friend here can help me with that task.”
He
held the dull blade against Knives’s throat and began to slice. It was a
foolish thing to do because not even the blood of every life he had taken since
arriving on this filthy planet had reversed the damage done to the knife, but
there was something about this man named Knives who was not really a man that
Snyder believed to be special.
After
blood coated the knife, Maxwell Snyder sat and waited.
And
waited.
After
three hours something happened. The knife began to change. The blade was no
longer a harsh brown, but instead it was a dull gray. It was supposed to be a
bright silver, but this small improvement was much better than anything he
would have dared to hope for.
I must have more of this “plant” blood to
heal my knife. But I won’t use any more of your blood, Knives. Your name is too
precious to me to take anything more from you. Instead I’ll take the blood of
your brother, the gunman in the red cloak.
When you are better we
shall go to him and I shall serve as your Gung-Ho Gun.
“But, rest assured
my dear Knives,” Maxwell Snyder whispered into Knives’s ear, “I’ll be your
servant in name only. I aim to be a god, after all. And gods serve no one. So I
pray that you curb your attitude. I’d hate to have to kill you.”
It
was the next day that Knives woke.
Where am I?
It was a cave, he
could tell clearly discern that, but how he had gotten there he could not
remember.
“It’s
good to see you awake again, master.”
That
voice could only have belonged to one person, but she was long dead.
“Do
you want me to kneel at your feet, master?”
 |
| Rem Saverem |
And
then she stepped out of the shadows.
It
was Rem Saverem. She had been dead for 130 years, Knives had watched her go
down in the ship he had sabotaged, but here she was again.
She
knelt at his feet as she had said she would. “I am not worthy to be in your
sight, but I hope you will let me repent for all of my crimes by letting me
serve you.”
“This
is complete madness,” Knives said. “That bitch would never have bowed to me. So
just who the hell are you?”
The
Rem look-a-like let out a laugh, but it was a man’s laugh.
And
the guise went with the voice. One moment there was Rem and then the next
moment there was a man with black hair.
“I
would be honored if you would consider me your new Gung-Ho Gun, Master Knives.”
Why
did he feel like he had heard that voice somewhere before? He had never seen
this man before, but the voice was definitely familiar.
“Who
the hell are you?” Knives kicked the man away from his feet. “The only thing my
Gung-Ho Guns were good for was killing themselves.”
The
stranger stood up, dusted his khaki pants off, and smiled, “I’ve traveled a
long way, Knives. Many galaxies and strange worlds have passed me by. And much
like you, I have lived a very long life. If it gives you any indication of my
age then I will tell you that I was around before the earth was devastated and
Project SEEDS was created.”
“That
would make you older than me by far. Are you a plant?”
The
stranger smirked. “Unfortunately, I’m all too human. Garbage, you might say.
But I was also given a god’s touch when I was young and it has made me strong.”
Knives did not entirely trust the man. His
smile was too furtive and he sensed there was an ulterior motive somewhere
behind those brown eyes. He doubted how much of his story was truth, too.
He’s human, after all. And nothing is quite
as capable of treachery and deceit as a human. But I shall give him a test.
“What makes you
think that you are worthy enough to serve me?”
“Would
you like me to bring you the head of Vash the Stampede? Would that prove my
worth?”
How does he know all of this?
“Because I’ve been
reading your mind, Master Knives,” the stranger said. “I want you to understand
that I can make quite the formidable enemy.”
Knives
did not like show-offs anymore than he liked liars, but this fellow certainly
seemed to be more than an intense stare and a creepy voice.
Still…
it wouldn’t do to take his eyes of him.
“I
don’t want Vash’s head. I want the women that he travels around with. You know
them?”
The
stranger nodded. “I’ve seen them in your head.”
“Bring
them to me and let Vash see where you’re bringing them, too.”
Once I have the women he’ll become a
blubbering idiot again and he will beg me for their lives. Of course, I’ll kill them anyway and then he
will be permanently broken and just like putty in my hands.
“We
can only hope,” the stranger agreed.
“What
is you name?”
“My
name is Maxwell Snyder.”
“Well,
Mr. Snyder,” Knives drew his gun and pointed it at Synder’s face. He popped the
top of the gun off that signaled the transformation. “You’ve read my mind so I
know that you know what this is.”
Maxwell
Snyder nodded, but did not say anything.
Knives’s
arm grew longer and plates of armor formed where skin had been. The gun
narrowed and soon the line between hand and gun was gone. The arm grew longer
and wider until it was the size of a small missile. A pair of wings grew from
the shoulder.
“This
is my angel arm, Mr. Snyder. If you want to know what comes out of the barrel
then I suggest you read my mind again. If you want to serve me then you will
stay out of my thoughts. Are we in agreement?”
“Of
course, Master Knives, I shall obey.”
And
the tremendous cannon reverted back to a simple arm and gun as quick as it had
formed.
“I
bid you welcome to my service, Mr. Snyder. I hope you have an eye for talent
because you will be in charge of finding new members of the Gung-Ho Guns to
serve under you.”
“Why
would you need more members when you have me?” And before Knives could say
anything the number of Maxwell Snyders quadrupled. “Four of us are more than
you need,” all of them said in unison, “but if you want we can make at least
twenty more.”
And
then they were back to one Snyder in the blink of an eye. “As I said earlier, I
am a man with a god’s touch.”
“So
it would appear,” Knives said and for once he was slightly impressed with a human.
“You have your mission. Bring me those women.”
“Right
away,” Maxwell Snyder bowed and then vanished into the sand.
Knives
did not like how powerful this human was and he did not like that sense of deceit
Snyder had given off.
But
at the moment he was still weakened. Forming the angel arm had been a foolish show
of power because it left him feeling completely drained again, but it had also
been a necessary show of power to send the point home that even at his weakest
he would still be able to make Snyder suffer eternal pain.
But he hadn’t so much as sweated as he had
stared down the barrel of my angel arm.
No,
it would not do for Knives to take his eyes off this strange man named Snyder.
Maxwell
Snyder had no intention of kidnapping any women and bringing them to Knives. In
fact, he had no intention kidnapping any human.
The
only thing he wanted was blood of the plants.
Every
town has plants, he had learned as he had diligently tried to crack the mysteries
inside Knives’s mind. These plants were not like Vash or Knives, though. These
particular plants were incapable of living outside of large light bulb-shaped
prisons. These odd-looking prisons could be seen in every single town and the
humans used the plants like slaves, diverting their life’s energy for things
like electricity, transportation, and water-mining.
But
Vash and Knives were not like the others. They were independent plants and they
had been around since Project SEEDS had dumped life onto this crummy planet. No
one knew they were plants, though. Otherwise they would be ostracized by the
public and treated like the monsters they were.
Once
Snyder got far enough away from the cave where he had left Knives he turned
around to face the cave and placed a hand in the air. When he clenched his hand
into a fist the opening to the cave collapsed.
Now
Knives was safely locked inside and he would be until Snyder decided to let him
out.
You can use that wretched cannon arm of
yours all you want, but the only thing the beam will do is bounce back of the walls and
cause you an immense amount of pain.
Maxwell Snyder
wanted all of the plants. He was going to kill them and use their blood to feed
his knife.
With
the exception of Knives and one other…
Stay alive, Knives. One day when I am a god
it will be the blood of your children feeding my godhood and my knife. But you
can’t begat children if you are foolish enough to use that arm to try to
destroy the cave.
After
over a century of loneliness, Snyder decided that it was high time someone
found a suitable mate for Knives.
VIII. Following the
Trail of Dead Plants
Vash
stepped off the sand steamer that had taken him to Inepril City.
The city hadn’t changed at all and the plant was still intact. That was the
best news Vash had received in ages.
Milly
and Meryl quickly followed after him.
“You
could walk a little slower, you know,” Meryl said as she slapped the back of
his head. “We’re the ones who have to carry all of the luggage!”
Vash
frowned, “You didn’t have to hit me so hard. Ouch, that really hurt.”
The
fiery stare that Meryl gave him was enough to make him shut his mouth
She’s scary when she gets mad and when she
gets really pissed she grows some sort of invisible ironclad chastity belt. It
was enough to make him want to fall to the ground and give up living.
In the crowd of
people before them he saw the one face that he had come to see.
“It’s
been a long time, Spot,” she called to him.
 |
| Elizabeth |
Vash
waved to her tentatively and resisted the urge to bark because he still felt
Meryl’s eyes boring a hole into the back of his skull.
“Hi,
Elizabeth!” he
called to her.
Knives had been
missing for four months and more towns had disappeared in that time, but
something else had also started happening around the time that Knives had
vanished: plants were being killed. At least a dozen had been killed in the
last two weeks alone. But that wasn’t all: three plants had gone missing.
Inepril City was the only city within a hundred
iles that still had a working plant.
The sand
steamers were crowded with people trying to escape from starvation and the
fiend responsible for wiping more and more innocent lives off the face of the
earth.
Naturally, all
of this was being blamed on the Humanoid Typhoon.
Vash grabbed at
the suitcase that Milly was carrying and he was going to grab Wolfwood’s
punisher, but she would not let him.
She can’t hold onto it forever.
Milly was
noticeably pregnant now, but the child was still without a name. He knew that
she had spent the past few weeks writing home, inquiring about child names, but
none those suggested to her seemed to please her. She had asked Vash and Meryl,
too. Meryl had suggested the name Seth and Milly appeared to like that one well
enough to write it down.
Vash had not
been able to think of a name, though. He had tried and tried, but there was only
one name on his mind right now: Knives.
He wanted to
know where he was.
Are you helping Maxwell Snyder destroy the
lives of people and plants or has something else happened to you?
“So what brings
you back here after so long?” Elizabeth
asked him.
It was hard to
believe that she was the same woman. He had last seen her as a sobbing,
vengeful mess. She had been a child from July, the city Vash had destroyed 23
years ago. Elizabeth
had tried to kill him not too long ago by trapping him in an unstable plant.
The attempt had failed and Vash had survived, but Elizabeth had also come to see the truth
about who he really was.
And that’s good for me because I’m not sure
how many more attempts on my life I can take.
He
could hear all of the people talking around him and gradually they began to
quiet down. Their eyes were on him, he could feel it.
They all
remembered him and that was no real surprise either. Everyone in town had been
after the bounty on his head and it had been hell trying to escape them. If it wasn't for him capturing the Nebraska family
and giving the money from their bounty
to the good people of Inepril
City than his life today would be very different, he knew.
To Vash’s delight
the hesitant silences soon transformed into cries of joy and salutation.
“Hey, everybody,
Vash is back!” he heard one man yell.
“It seems
everyone remembers you well enough, Spot,” Elizabeth frowned. “We’re all glad you
survived Augusta.”
Vash could not
think of anything good to say. The destruction of two towns, regardless of the
fact that no one had died, was something that he did not like talking about.
And he knew that the last person on earth who wanted to hear about it was one
of those that he had made homeless. “I need to see the plant.”
Elizabeth nodded, “I’ll take you
immediately.”
The final few
exited from the sand steamer when Vash heard the cries of what had become his
new posse, the Bad Lads Gang.
It had all been
at Neon’s suggestion, too. Well, at his rather forceful suggestion.
“If you think
I’m just going to let you out of my sight after it took me so long to find you
again, you’re crazy,” he had said once Vash had made it back to town after
searching for Knives four months ago. “We’re going with you even if we have to
follow you into the pits of Hell. And once all this crazy shit is through,
we’re going to finish that duel.”
The Bad Lads had
not been allowed to ride on the sand steamer because the last time they had
been on a sand steamer they had tried to rob it and crash it down a cliff.
It had happened
to this very same sand steamer as it was leaving this very same town, Vash
remembered.
But the Bad Lads
had been allowed to follow the sand steamer at a distance with a promise from
Vash that they would not try another robbery.
“Funny how we
are all back together,” he whispered and grabbed for Meryl’s bag.
“It’s about time
you lent a hand, Spot,” Meryl
smirked.
He could only
smile his goofy smile and say, “Ruff!”
Maxwell Snyder
was refreshed. The plants had fed his knife well and certainly one of the
plants he had captured would suit Knives well, too.
The cave was
where he had left it although to anyone else’s eyes it looked just like another
part of the dune.
“I’m back,
Knives, and I bring gifts.”
The three
tremendous light bulb-shaped containers that he pulled behind him did make him
feel quite conspicuous. After all, these bizarre containers were the tallest
structures on this pitiful planet. Many people had seen him, but they had not
lived to tell the tale. Snyder did not understand the complexity of these creatures or the
mechanics of how the plants worked exactly but he knew that he had to feed them
a lot of his own energy to keep them alive.
He carried the
plants behind him using rope made from his own energy. It was a truly long rope
and it had to be kept taut or else the rope would break and the plants would
die.
Maxwell Snyder
raised his free hand in a fist and spread his fingers to reveal his palm. When
he did so the opening to the cave re-formed and Snyder was shocked to see what
was inside: nothing.
Did the fool use that arm of his and somehow
obliterate himself?
There was no
sign of damage on the wall of the cave and there was no sign of Knives. Snyder
doubted that there would have been damage on the wall anyway, but it still made
him uneasy.
With his free
hand he touched the mouth of the cave.
The vision came
to him.
He saw what the
cave had seen the day that he had left Knives.
Only seconds
after Snyder had left, Knives had bolted out of the cave and hidden behind the
dune.
His need for the
three plants temporarily forgotten, Maxwell Snyder raised both hands into the
sky and screamed.
A brilliant
flash of light emitted from his person and everything within three iles of his
position was engulfed in white flames.
The plants were
completely destroyed, but he no longer seemed to care.
He did not like
being played for a fool and he would make Knives pay.
He’s been watching me from afar, he
knew. For months I’ve been showing him everything
I’ve been doing and he knows me to be his foe.
Maxwell Snyder
reached for his switchblade. It was no longer rusty and the blade was once
again retractable.
He flicked the
button and the blade popped up. It was already orange from the heat that surrounded
his body, but he knew that the heat would only make it stronger.
“I shall drain his blood with my Diablo blade,” he swore.
With an immense
effort that he had not put forth in centuries he transformed the knife into its
true form.
Fire knows no master and it knows no
treachery. I hope you are watching me, dear Knives. This is what I will use to
cut off that precious angel arm of yours.
“Try not to lock
me in this time,” Vash quipped as Elizabeth
pointed to the door.
“I’ll try not to,
but I can’t make any promises.”
“Aw, gee, you
make feel so safe and secure."
The plant was
still safe. Somewhere in the middle of the large bulb of light was a frail and
lonely being who knew she was scared of something, but not quite what or why.
I have to protect her because he’ll come for
this one next.
“I should tell
you that you are the second person to inquire about our plant, Vash,” Elizabeth said as she
stared up at the creature within the bulb. It did not come into sight very often
and when it did it was often only for glimpses at a time.
But she could be
clearly seen now.
Elizabeth could not help but admire her
beauty each time she saw her. “She's an agent of spring and growth and strength. How could anyone do
them harm? It’s bad enough that they are trapped in those cocoons, but do they have
to be so defenseless against evil people?”
Vash did not
want to remind her that she had threatened to kill him once by destroying a
plant so he let slide by. Instead, he inquired about the person who asked about
the plant. “Was he a greedy businessman looking to make a buck or did he
really want to help?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “He’s actually been
waiting down here for a while. He reminded me a lot of you so I let him down here…
with a couple of guards to keep him company, of course.” She winked just in
case Vash did not grasp the implication.
Further down the
metal steps, at the very base of the bulb containing the plant, stood a man
whose face he could not see, but whose posture he did recognize.
Everything
seemed to fade away into darkness and there was only Vash and this man who had
his back turned to him.
When at last he
turned around, Vash was still shocked to see his face even though he knew
exactly whose face it would be.
“Oh, hey, Vash,”
Knives said and lifted a hand to wave at him. “I thought you might stop by.”
IX.
Dinner with Knives (III)
For once they
were the speechless ones, Knives was glad to see. They all sat around the
table: Vash, Meryl, Milly, and Knives. Frank Marlon and a few of the Bad Lads
were in the next room playing a game of poker and he could hear someone
yelling, “You damn sonofabitch, there’s no way you had that ace three hands in
a row!”
The sound of
fisticuffs and rough-housing followed before the voice of Neon boomed down like
thunder, “Put the gun away, Mark! You got beat fair and square. Let Mr. Marlon
take your money or I’ll be the one doing the shooting.”
The rest of the
Bad Lads were scattered throughout the hotel keeping an eye out for the
oft-times invisible Maxwell Snyder.
And,
as coincidence would have it, the hotel they were staying in was the closest one to
the plant.
At
last, Vash spoke up to break the silence, “Why are you here, Knives? Why have
you shown up in Inepril
City and why now of all
times?”
Knives
was debating how much of the truth he should give. He ultimately decided on
telling all of it.
“I’m
only here to use you as bait, Vash. Now that he knows that he never fooled me
and that I am far cleverer than he is, he will come after you, Vash. When he
does I intend to be there to make him suffer for insulting my intelligence.
After that…” he shrugged. “I suppose we should finish our fight, don’t you
agree?”
“I’m
not going to fight you anymore, Knives.”
Still think I’ll change, don’t you? How
pathetic.
“Well, we’ll see.
Quite frankly, I will kill you whether you fight or whether you don’t, but I
won’t just stand by and let some wretched human waste do it for me.”
“So
you were never going to let your Gung-Ho Guns kill me?”
Knives’s
jaw clenched. “The difference between my Gung-Ho Guns and this human is that my
Gung-Ho Guns knew that they were expendable garbage. This human believes that
he is a god, that he is even better and stronger than me, and I will not allow such a cretin to exist!”
As
he made his way to leave the room, he looked back at the woman named Meryl, “I
hope you enjoy the taste of my brother’s seed while you still can. For soon you
shall enjoy only the taste of pain and suffering.”
X. In the Name of God
The
resemblance between Millions Knives and the good King of Mars, James Ulrich,
struck Maxwell Snyder as funny. He had not seen it at first, but then he did
and now the likeness could not be unseen.
Snyder stood on the outskirts of a town named Inepril City.
The
Humanoid Typhoon was here now and he had apparently brought along quite a few
friends.
Whether
Knives was among them or not was difficult to say, but there was no doubt that
he was near.
He would love nothing more than introduce Knives to the unfortunate king. They
would undoubtedly have a lot to talk about while they were being kept in some
dark dungeon somewhere.
“I
want my kingdom cleansed of filth,” King James had told him. “Find me a world
where I can dispose of all of my enemies. I want them to suffer for a very long
time before they die. And you better make sure that this place is far away.
These criminals aren’t worthy enough to even see Mars in the night sky from a vast distance.”
Maxwell
Snyder had bowed and said, “Yes, Your Grace,” for what was hopefully the last
time in his life.
He
had taken a special ship that could travel through time as well as it could
travel through space. Dimensions had been breached and chaos had erupted as a
result, but there was truly no place that could still be deemed habitable so
far away from the Mars of his realm with the exception of this planet named Gunsmoke.
The
long trip had been worth it, but for these strange beings called plants he
would gladly make the trip a thousand times over.
And now is the time of death.
Raising his blade
to the sky, Maxwell Snyder exclaimed, “In the name of your new god, Lord
Maxwell Snyder, god of Mars, Gunsmoke and every other wretched planet boasting
of life, I command you all to bend the knee and praise me or die!”
Of
course, he was going to kill them all even if they bowed before him in worship.
It just sounded
godlier to his ears to give the weak false hope.
He brought the
sword down and in just one stroke the town was set in flames.
XI.
Angel Arms & Diablo Blades
Disoriented,
Milly Thompson awoke to a room full of smoke. She scrambled to her feet,
grabbing at her stomach to remind herself of just why she had to make haste,
and ran for the door. But, halfway there, she stopped her frantic pace and
realized that the smoke was not coming from the hotel, but from outside. She
had left her window half-open because she had been feeling too hot and that was
where the smoke was coming from.
The town was on
fire. She did not know if the plant had been damaged because her window faced
away from the plant, but she did know that she could hear gunfire and the
voices of at least a dozen men. The only voices she recognized were those of
Vash and Brilliant Dynamites Neon.
She could not
remember falling asleep or the last moment she had been awake but it was night again.
I guess all this traveling we’ve been doing
has been bad for the baby.
As she moved to
close the window, she saw a man walking in the fiery streets. He looked up at
her and waved. The man wielded a large red sword that appeared to be coated in
fire.
“You would do
well to run, milady,” he shouted to her. And he raised the sword above his head
and slashed at the ground beneath the hotel.
A large deep
crevice formed and fire spread from the sword, slithering along the crevice, and quickly
reaching the side of the hotel and engulfing it in flames.
The hotel
pitched toward the crevice as the crevice grew wider and the flames on the
hotel grew higher.
I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get my baby out of here!
She ran to the
door of her room, but she could barely grasp the doorknob before the hotel fell
on its side.
Milly Thompson
fell through her half-open window and into the crevice, narrowly missing being
burned by the flames.
“Oh, this is it. I’m going to die.” She cried
as she fell into the darkness. “Where are you, Mr.
Vash? Where are you? Where are-”
Her voice cut
off as her body slammed into hard ground and she lost consciousness.
Elizabeth watched on from the safety of the
sand steamer. She felt completely helpless watching another town she had loved
burn, but she was not alone this time. The townsfolk had all been evacuated two
days ago after the mayor had finally given in to Vash’s pleas, but the mayor
had made Vash promise that no harm would come to the city.
“And if any harm
does come to my city I’d hate to have to turn you in and use the money to pay
for the damages, but I’m sure you wouldn’t find a jail cell too bad.”
“Gee, Mister,”
Vash had said, “your willingness to protect these people is touching.”
Most of the
townsfolk had managed to fit onto the sand steamer, but there were a few
stragglers following closely behind in the sand steamer’s wake. They managed to
keep up pace, though.
Their lives had
been saved again by the Humanoid Typhoon, but the town was on fire now.
Their only hope
now was that the plant survived. Everything else could be repaired or rebuilt,
but it would all be a fruitless endeavor if the plant was destroyed.
It was all in
Vash’s hands.
“Come on, Vash,”
she whispered. “I know you can do it.”
Brilliant
Dynamites Neon did not like running because it made him feel like a coward, but
when the building began to lean on one side he dived out of his window and hit
the ground running. He could hear some of his men yelling, but he could not
quite make out the words.
The town was on
fire, but the plant appeared to be untouched.
After he made
enough distance he turned around to survey the damage.
He saw Markus
quickly running after him. “What the hell is going on, boss? One minute it was
all quiet and the next everything is on fire!”
Neon nodded. So the invisible man is here at last.
“We should be
grateful that we have not ended up like the residents of July,” Neon barked at
his subservient. “Damn, we really underestimated this guy.”
“Of course, you
did,” Maxwell Snyder called from atop the burning hotel. “Men never have been
able understand their gods or comprehend their power.” In his hand he held a
large sword made of fire and he glanced down at it to make sure that they could see it. “This sword I hold will
kill you, Mr. Neon. You should feel honored.”
Neon grabbed for
his gun. “I’ve had enough of your gabbing. It’s time for you to die.”
He squeezed the
trigger and this time Snyder did not dodge the bullet and a hole appeared between
his eyes; he fell down, dead.
Surely, it can’t be that easy.
“Behind you,” he
heard Markus scream, but Neon was too late.
An intense pain
blossomed in Neon’s back, strong arms grabbed around him from behind, and he heard a
voice whisper in his ear, “Watch me rise.”
“You can’t be-”
Maxwell Snyder
stabbed him in the back once again and Neon stopped talking.
On the burning
ruins of the hotel, the Snyder that Neon had shot did indeed rise. The hole in
his forehead was quickly reducing in size.
There are two of them!
“What are we
going to do now, boss?” Markus cried. That’s when Neon realized that there was
a third Maxwell Snyder walking down the alley to their right side.
Neon could think
of only one thing to say. All his life he had been loud and boisterous, but now
he was reluctant to say anything at all because he knew just how much like a
coward it would make him sound.
“Vash,” he said.
“We need Vash.”
Markus, perhaps
not hearing his answer, took matters into his own hands and reached for his
guns. Perhaps he had gotten off as much as five shots before he died.
He died
screaming.
Don’t let that happen to me. Not that way. I
won’t scream. I’m going to go out with a shine, damn it.
Meryl was stuck
between the bed and the floor. Intense pain shot up from her hip up to her
shoulder and it was a struggle for her not to scream. The floor (what used to
be the wall before the hotel fell) was getting hot and smoke began filling
the room.
Vash was beside
her, his head bloody from where a piece of furniture had fallen on him, but
otherwise he appeared to be okay.
“It’s going to
be okay,” he said as began to lift the bed off of her. “You’re… not bleeding.”
But she didn’t
like the look on his face.
He tossed the
bed aside and cradled her gently in his arms.
She could see
the extent of the damage now.
A bone was
sticking out of her left elbow and her ribs on the same side had an awful
sunken look.
The position of
the bed had cut off blood flow to the wound, but now that she was trying to
move the blood began to spill.
“Please, don’t
move,” he told her. “I’ve got to get you out of here to somewhere safe.”
Nowhere is safe with you, she thought.
She did not think it with any malice, though. It had been her choice to follow
Vash and she would still follow him to the ends of the earth, but trouble
followed Vash with the same sense of devotion. It’s never going to end.
The
building began to shake again and sink further into the ground. The smoke rose
higher and the wood beneath their feet began to bow downward.
There
was no window in their room and the only door out of their room was beneath
their feet; if they wanted out then they would have to go down, where a
collapse could kill them if the fire and smoke didn’t.
Vash
held Meryl tightly as she grunted in pain and kicked at the door as hard as he
could without hurting her too much.
The
door did not open as much as it popped off its hinges and fell into the flames
below.
There’s no way out. Jumping down there
would only roast them alive.
She
could see Vash crying. She was crying too, but it wasn’t right for him to be
crying now. He was a hopelessly sentimental wuss, but he was also strong when he had
to be. And if ever there was a time for him to be strong then that time was
now.
“What
am I going to do?” Vash didn’t seem to be asking anyone in particular. “How can
I save her?”
And
that is when they heard the voice from somewhere up above.
It’s Knives!
“You
must use it, Vash,” Knives said, “if you want to save yourself and your
wretched plaything.”
At
first Vash did not seem to understand, but then a look of recognition crossed
over his face. Now if only Meryl could understand.
“Personally,
I think it’s a waste of such a precious power, but the choice is all yours, I
suppose.”
“Knives!”
Vash shouted, but there was no answer. “I can’t use it. I can’t.”
But
as he said it he stared at the rising flames and the building smoke.
At
last he came to a decision. “I need to set you down now. I promise it won’t be
for long.”
What is he going to do?
Then
she remembered July, Augusta,
and the hole in the Fifth Moon as she watched him draw his gun and aim it
skyward.
His arm grew.
Elizabeth saw the streak of light shoot into
the night sky. She remembered seeing this before when she was younger and her
heart broke.
The entire town
and the plant were going to be destroyed, she knew.
With so few
plants left on the planet and the technology to make plants long lost how could
they ever hope to survive?
It’s another July. Men will go mad and learn
how to steal and kill. The townspeople here will all die even if they go
living.
She couldn’t
bear watching that bright light anymore because she knew what would happen. The
light was going to spread into a large dome and the flames would destroy what
little had not already been destroyed by that peculiar fire.
But that didn’t happen.
As soon as the
beam of light shot into the air it was gone.
Vash grabbed
Meryl quickly and jumped onto the ground. The force of the angel arm’s blast
had crushed what was left of the building beneath their feet and blew apart
what had been over their heads. The force of the blast had left Meryl breathless,
but overall she did not seem to be in worse shape than she had been before.
That wasn’t all me, Vash thought. A large part of that was
Knives.
That was only
his forth time using the angel arm and he was far from practiced at its usage.
Knives had the ability to manipulate Vash’s angel arm and had done so
previously in Augusta
and July, but this was the first time he had manipulated Vash’s arm in a way
that had not destroyed an entire town.
The smoke
outside was almost as bad as the smoke had been inside the hotel, but there was
one place where the smoke did not reach: the plant.
He started to
run toward the plant, but was cut off by the man that he had heard so much
about but of whom he actually knew so little.
“Mr. Vash the
Stampede,” he smiled, “we meet at last.”
The man named
Maxwell Snyder carried a large red sword made of fire.
Is he a plant, too? Vash wondered, but
he did not know how that could be. Knives and he were the only independent
plants in existence.
“I thought you
were a bit taller,” Snyder admitted, “and it’s a shame that I catch you in your pajamas and not your red cloak. Pajamas will not be as becoming of your
corpse.”
Vash heard
shouting and gunfire in the distance. He quickly turned to see what was going
on, but he could not believe his eyes. Brilliant Dynamites Neon was shooting
his guns at three Maxwell Snyders. The Snyders danced around him, dodging his
bullets, and leaping in to slash at him before moving quickly away; it was a vicious circle.
He’s going to die if this doesn’t stop.
When Vash turned
back to the Snyder that he had been talking to he saw two Snyders standing side
by side.
“Please stop
this,” he begged. “We’ve done nothing wrong. Leave us in peace. If you want me
you can have me, but leave everyone else alone. I won’t fight.”
Snyder frowned.
“But I want you to fight. This is one of the reasons I came here. I want to
fight the Humanoid Typhoon!”
Two shots,
sounding almost like one, rang out and the two Snyders standing before him
collapsed to the dirt.
His brother
sauntered out of an alley to Vash’s left and pointed the smoking gun at Vash.
“Get to safety
if you have a brain,” Knives told him. “I’d hate for him to kill you because
that is something I want to do myself. Now go before I decide to end your
miserable life now.”
“Will you save
him, too?” Vash nodded toward the overwhelmed Neon.
Knives rolled
his eyes and shot the three Snyders surrounding Neon in the heads, too.
Neon glanced
around, bewildered as to who saved him, but appeared not to see Vash and Knives
through the smoke.
“If you have any
brains you’ll head for the plant,” Knives yelled to Neon and then turned back
to Vash. “Get going now before they regenerate. These are only copies that are
not as strong as the original, but you are apparently too pathetic to fight
even them.”
Rather than
saying anything that might infuriate his brother, Vash ran to the plant.
Vash quickly
descended down the metal steps while Meryl lay in his arms, on the verge of
passing out.
He did not like
the way that bone was jutting out. Of course, it was never good for a bone to
be pointing out, but the bone bounced too much as he jogged down the steps. The
likelihood was high that there was another break that he could not see. Trying
to pop that bone back into place wasn’t an option if there was another break.
Odds were high that such an action would only cause another severe rip in her
flesh.
At the base of
the plant he saw Frank Marlon cradling Milly Thompson in his arms. Frank saw
Vash and tried to smile, “Man, am I glad to see you.”
“What happened
to you two?”
There was a nasty
gash on Frank’s forehead, but the one on Milly’s forehead was even worse. It
almost looked like someone had tried to scalp her, but had stopped before getting
to the hairline.
Frank shrugged
and drank from a flask. “We fell through the hotel into a hole in
the ground. I saw Milly and tried to wake her up, but there was a shard of
glass in her head. I pulled it out as best as I could, but you can see what she
looks like. Then I grabbed her once I saw that huge beam shoot into the sky and
ran like hell. So here we are. How is she?” he nodded toward Meryl. “Is that a
bone I see?”
“Yep,” Vash said
as he set her down by Frank’s side. “She’s badly hurt. If she doesn’t get help
soon she’ll lose that arm. She may lose it anyway though…” He began to hyperventilate.
The thought of losing Meryl made him feel so peculiar. He had not felt anything
like it since he had watched Rem die, but this feeling trumped even that. Even
when Legato Bluesummers had threatened to kill Meryl and Milly he had not felt
quite like this.
I feel like I’m dying, too. He grabbed
his chest and felt his heart pounding too hard. He felt phantom pain in the
left arm that was no longer truly there, the same arm that Meryl had injured.
I’m dying.
“Vash!” Frank
screamed and his voice echoed loudly off the walls. “What the hell is the
matter with you?”
And just like
that Vash snapped out of it. “I’m fine. You look after them. I’ll be back
soon.”
He ran back up
the metal stairs convinced that it was his love for Meryl that had threatened
to kill him because he could not imagine living without her.
I’m coming for you, Snyder. Vash drew
his gun and entered into the fiery streets.
As he left he
saw Neon and three of the Bad Lads running toward the entrance of the plant.
“Don’t you die
like an asshole,” he told Vash as he went inside the plant. “We’ve still got a
score to settle.”
“Which one of
you is the real one?” Knives asked them, knowing that none of the ones in his
immediate vicinity were the original. “Show yourself before you make me angry.”
Ten Snyder
clones surrounded him, but he did not worry much about them. They had no
thoughts in their brains and they were taking their orders from the original; once he found and killed him then these others would die, too.
“This is not the
first time that I’ve dealt with clones. Leonof the Puppet-Master used them all
the time, but they were weak just like yours.”
“These are not
mere puppets,” one of them said. It did not matter which one had spoken up, but
what mattered was that the original was actually talking to him now. “And they
are not weak. They are as strong as I am when I want them to be. Right now I’m
just having fun.”
There! The entire conversation Knives
had been listening for Snyder’s thoughts, but it wasn’t until the original had
actually chosen to speak to him did he receive a clear signal.
The original
Maxwell Snyder was still on the outskirts of town, overlooking the battle from
afar like a true coward.
Human garbage, I shall dispose of you.
Knives summoned
his angel arm and pointed it at the clones. “You’re not worthy of this attack,
but I’ll not exude precious energies on replicas so I will make this attack as
weak as it can be.”
“Stop!” Vash
called as he ran to Knives’s side. “Don’t destroy anymore of this town. We’ve
got to lead them out of town or else there will be nothing for the people to
come back to.”
“Relax, brother,” Knives smirked. “I won’t
bother destroying a town when a perfectly good fire seems to be doing the job
for me.”
Ten
shots from the angel arm completely annihilated the clones, but no more damage
was done and the waves of energy disappeared when the clones did.
But
twenty more clones appeared where the ten had been before.
“This
time the stakes shall be raised,” one of the Snyders said. “These clones shall
be at three-fourths of my full strength. Now let’s see just how strong you
really are with those cannons of yours.”
 |
| Vash's angel arm |
Knives’s
ground his teeth together. “Vash.”
“What?”
“It’s
time to use it again.”
“But-”
“It’s
either that or die with those humans that you vowed to protect.”
After
a moment’s hesitation, Vash steeled himself and summoned his angel arm for the
second time that day.
“Let’s
begin,” the Snyders yelled, their flaming swords growing larger and brighter.
“We’ll kill you in one swipe.”
The
swords slashed fire and intense heat at Vash and Knives before they returned
fire with their angel arms.
The
land shook for iles around and this time Elizabeth
could see a large dome of fire forming over the town.
She
could not see the plant anymore.
“No,
not the plant! No!”
Vash
could see nothing in the intense light, but he heard the tremendous crashing
sound behind them and he knew what that meant: the plant was gone.
“This
is their hope you are destroying,” he screamed at the shadows, unsure if the Snyders could hear him. “This is their livelihoods and all they have! How can you do
this?”
“Well,
are you going to just stand there and die or are you going to fight?” he heard
Knives ask from somewhere off to his right. “You can’t reach with him and you
can’t reason with him. So either avenge what your precious humans have lost or
stay out of the way and let me fight him alone.”
But
Vash was not going to do that. Knives was only in this for himself, he knew,
and that meant that someone had to stay and fight for the people.
What a splendid lightshow, Snyder
thought as he watched, feeling slightly disappointed. The loss of the plant was
unfortunate, but the fact that Vash and Knives had both joined forces against
him left a sour feeling in his gut. Apart they were formidable but capable of
being overwhelmed, but together he was not quite sure how he would fare because
he had not truly envisioned this scenario.
I suppose this will make things interesting.
With red sword in
hand, he walked toward the town and called all of his clones back to him. Many
were bruised and broken and burned, but they all obeyed his wishes. They could
all die a million times, but they would rise each time when he commanded it.
One by one they
vanished and Maxwell Snyder felt whole again.
The
great dome of light shattered as all the resistance the clones had been putting
forth vanished and those cursed angel arms stopped firing as well.
The crater the
blast had created was half the size of the town, but the subterranean level of
the plant was most likely unharmed. The only things down there now were a few
frightened humans.
And that gave
Snyder and idea. He formed one new clone and whispered instructions in his ear.
Knives and Vash
stood in the middle of the crater, side by side, their angel arms facing the
approaching figure.
“So he’s finally
finished playing and he’s ready to die,” Knives remarked. “I’ve been waiting
for this moment for months now.”
“You shouldn’t
be so overjoyed at the prospect of killing somebody.”
“Still the pacifist,
Vash? I had thought that Legato had taught you a thing or two. Or what about
Wolfwood? Do you think he would have died if he had killed Chapel? Enemies must
die, Vash.”
Vash pointed his
angel arm at Knives’s head and shouted, “Aren’t you my enemy? Shouldn’t you be
the one to die?” Tears streamed down his face. “You should die for Rem and for
Legato and everybody you hurt. Meryl and Milly could be dying right now and
they need our help. This isn’t a game, Knives.”
Knives frowned.
“Life is a game, Vash, and the rules never change.” He pointed his own angel
arm at Vash’s head and smiled. “Enemies must die. But, before I kill you, I
want to know why you didn’t kill me in Demitri when you had the chance.”
“I wanted to
give you a chance to discover life and love and-”
“Peace,” Knives
finished for him. “There will never be peace."
In the distance
Maxwell Snyder clapped his hands together. “Oh, bravo, I love the drama. Do you
want me to just wait over here until your little moment is done or would you
mind if I cut in?” He grabbed his sword and made a sawing motion. “Don’t you
just love a good pun?”
Staring in each
other’s eyes as they had dozens of times before, searching for any hint of
betrayal and finding none at the moment, Vash and Knives turned to face Snyder.
The
flames on Snyder’s sword grew higher and he ran at them when he felt satisfied
with the level of growth.
“Fire your
guns,” Snyder demanded, “and this time put your backbones into it!”
The
entire place was shaking as Meryl woke up. Holes had torn through the roof and
the glass container that had held the plant was shattered all around them. At
her feet lay the body of the dead plant. Sand was pouring into the large metal
room and she could hear Frank Marlon singing an old drinking song.
Meryl
grabbed at her wounded arm and felt the bone sticking out; she had hoped that
she had just dreamed getting wounded. Her chest ached and every movement caused
the act of breathing to become painful, but it was nowhere near as painful as
listening to Frank’s depressing song.
“We’re
not going to die,” Meryl said.
Frank
stopped singing and said, “I never said we were going to die, but the silence
was giving me the creeps and that’s one of the few songs I know by heart.”
“How’s
Milly?”
He
did not say anything.
Oh, no, Meryl thought. Milly’s dead!
“She’s not in bad
shape and in truth I think you are worse off than she is, but…”
Thank goodness she’s alive. “So what’s
wrong with her?”
“Well,
for one thing she is still unconscious and for another she’s bleeding out of
her… Well, let’s just say that I think her baby is dead. Of course, I’m not a
doctor.”
Meryl
knew that if they survived this Milly would never be the same again. She had
looked forward so badly to raising a child of her own after coming from such a
large family, but she had never really found the right person. Then Nicholas
Wolfwood had entered the picture for an all too brief period of time.
And now the baby is gone, Wolfwood’s baby.
Oh, this is going to kill her.
And that thought
made her realized something. “Well, shouldn’t we… do something?” she asked
Frank. “If that baby is dead inside her… should we do something to get it out?
Couldn’t it harm her?”
Frank
looked at her like she was crazy. “Are you a fucking doctor? Because I sure as
hell ain’t! I don’t know the first thing about this kind of thing.”
Meryl
felt movement at her feet and she heard the slightest hint of a cough.
“It’s
the plant!” Meryl shouted as she struggled to move to her. The peculiar
creature looked like a large purple butterfly with a yellow flower on its back and its wings chopped off. But, despite the strange anatomy of the creature, it was easy to tell that there was a large gash in her throat.
But the plant appeared to have some strength
left and she was reaching out toward Milly.
“I…
can help,” the plant said as blood poured out of her mouth and wounded throat.
“Bring her to… me.”
Frank
Marlon picked up Milly and set her beside the plant. “I’ve never heard of a
plant surviving in the outside world for so long. I always thought they died
instantly.”
The
plant placed a hand on Milly’s stomach and a strange purple glow surrounded her
belly.
The
blood between Milly’s legs dried and even the gash on her forehead began to
heal. But the gash did not quite heal completely before the plant’s strength
gave out.
“They’re
safe, Vash,” the plant said before it faded away and not a single trace remained of
her.
Milly
opened her eyes and frowned, “What’s wrong, Meryl? Why are you hurt?”
“Oh,
Milly, you’re awake,” she shouted as she tried to give her a hug, but she was
quickly reminded that there was a bone sticking out of her arm and few ribs in her chest that were probably broken. “It was a
miracle, Milly.”
Milly
looked confused, but she smiled. “I had a dream about Nicholas. We were walking
down the street and he said that everything was going to be okay and that our
son was going to grow up to be a strong man. Then I told him that he needed to
stop smoking or else the baby never would be strong because of all the second
hand smoke.”
Frank
Marlon’s flask was empty, but he did not particularly care; it had only been
filled with soda because he did not drink anymore. He tossed the flask across
the room and thought about the miracle they had witnessed.
“It
had called Vash’s name,” he said. “How on earth is that possible?”
Meryl
knew the answer to that question, but she would never tell.
That’s
when the flask Frank had tossed bounded through the air and hit him square in
the forehead. Frank yipped and grabbed for his head, but he froze as he saw who
came walking in through a hallway that rained sand.
“I
could tell you, Mr. Marlon,” Maxwell Snyder said. He held a very sharp switchblade
in his hand. “Oh, yes, I could tell, but you wouldn’t help me fix my knife so
why should I do anything for you?”
His eyes, like
brown pits of hell, scanned over Milly and Meryl. “I’ve got plans for you two.”
He smiled. “Have either of you ever been knife-fucked?”
Meryl closed her
eyes and did something that she had not done in a long, long time: she prayed.
Vash dodged the
wave of fire by running to his right and rolling on his side until he was
dizzy. From his position on the ground he shot his angel arm, but Snyder was
much too fast.
Knives shot at Snyder then, hoping to catch him off guard, but Snyder slashed his red sword at
the wave of energy and the two immense powers cancelled each other out.
“Damn, I shot
him at full power,” Knives exclaimed as he watched Maxwell Snyder jump from the
ruins on one building and take cover behind another. “He’s too fast and he’s
not even using a demon’s eye.”
Vash knew that
the only way to beat him would be if one of them could distract him while the
other snuck up behind him. But that would require them to trust each other and
discard their angel arms. The arms were immensely strong, but incapable of
keeping up with such a fast opponent. He doubted if he could convince Knives of
that, but he would have to try.
A fresh wave of
fire from Snyder’s sword arced through the air and came down on their heads.
Vash made his arm change back to normal and jumped into the ruins of the hotel
to dodge the blast.
Knives fired his
angel arm at the fire and the wave dispersed.
“Throw me your
gun, Vash!” Knives shouted toward the ruined hotel, but there was no answer.
“Damn it, Vash.” He ran to the hotel and saw the gaping hole in the ground.
“It would appear
that we are all alone,” Maxwell Snyder said. “Your brother ran off on you.”
Knives clenched
his jaw tightly. “I don’t need him anyway.”
Vash fell
through the darkness. “Scarrryyy!!!!! Why
didn’t someone tell me there was a hole down here?”
His face slammed
into a cold metal surface and his screaming stopped. Regaining his composure,
he ran through the dark hallway before he tripped over a piece of debris and
fell on his face again. The fall broke his yellow glasses and his nose,
but he smiled when he saw what had caused him to trip: Wolfwood’s punisher.
He grabbed the
heavy metal cross, slung it across his back, and ran toward the heart of the
plant.
Then he heard
the screams and gunfire and ran even faster.
Frank Marlon
grabbed for his gun and aimed it at Snyder’s head. “You’re going to pay for what
you did to July, JR, and every other town you ruined.” He pulled the trigger,
but the sonofabitch was too quick. Snyder dodged the bullet, ran across the
room, and slashed at Frank’s throat all in the blink of an eye.
The cut could
have been much deeper, Frank knew. Asshole
is just playing with me.
“You really
should keep an eye on your enemy, gunsmith.” the bastard said as he grabbed
Milly Thompson by the hair. Milly screamed and Meryl screamed along with her,
but Snyder kicked Meryl in the face and that quieted them both down. “Miracles
won’t save you or your baby this time, sweet Milly. Tell Wolfwood I said 'hi.'”
He raised his
blade into the air and Frank Marlon raised his gun once again and aimed at the
blade. He was not much of a gunman even though he was a gunsmith, but he had to
get this shot right or else the woman would die.
He squeezed the
trigger.
The bullet hit
the blade, but the bullet ricocheted off and the blade did not even show any
sign that it had been hit. Not so much as a wiggle.
Frank saw his own
bullet coming back at him.
I won’t be able to dodge that. I’m going to
die.
Meryl grabbed
him by the shoulders and pulled him down to the ground and the bullet narrowly missed
Frank’s head, passing harmlessly by.
Maxwell Snyder’s
knife hand did stop mid-air, though. He frowned at Meryl. “That would have been
a one in a million shot. Why did you have to meddle?”
That’s when they
heard the gunshots. There were a lot of them this time and Snyder did not have
time to dodge these.
Brilliant
Dynamites Neon and three of his Bad Lads were running down a metal staircase, guns drawn and shooting.
“Okay, boys,”
Neon shouted. “Let’s teach this guy a lesson, but don’t hit the others.”
Bullet holes
riddled Snyder’s body, but he still stood on his feet. Each time a bullet
ripped through his flesh the wound would instantly start healing.
There’s no way to kill this guy, Meryl
thought as she watched the absurd smile on his face. He likes this. He knows that he is more powerful, but he loves watching
us struggle. So he keeps us alive for his own amusement.
And then she
realized that maybe Maxwell Snyder could be killed.
But it was a
long shot and they would need Vash to make it work.
Vash
came to an opening at last.
Meryl
and Frank were huddled at the base of where the plant would have been if it had
not been shattered. Neon and the Bad Lads were on a staircase to his left
shooting at Maxwell Snyder. Snyder was standing in the middle of the room with
Milly Thompson at his feet, practically kissing the floor to avoid the gunfire.
“Milly,” Vash
shouted and kicked the punisher in her direction.
Maxwell Snyder
turned toward Vash as he was still being ripped by the bullets from the Bad
Lads. He seemed to pay no mind of Milly or the punisher.
Then
Vash saw Meryl and Frank stand up and aim their guns at Snyder’s back.
“It
would seem I am surrounded on three sides,” Snyder smiled. “Why don’t you join
the fun, Vash? I’ve always wanted a four-way.”
Vash
did not draw his gun to fire it. Instead he summoned his angel arm and pointed
it directly at him.
At
last, Snyder’s calm and cool demeanor appeared to crack. “You wouldn’t dare
fire that thing with your friends so near!”
Vash
powered up his cannon and braced himself for the kick it would give.
“Shit,
he’s really going to do this!” Neon shouted, but he continued firing with the
rest of the Bad Lads.
Meryl
made no effort to move and neither did Frank. They stood where they were and
fired their guns into Snyder’s back.
“You
can’t kill me,” he shouted. “The beam is too slow!”
But
he had forgotten all about Milly and punisher. Milly had pulled the cover off
the cross, grabbed the trigger where the lines of the cross intersected, and
pointed the rocket launcher at the top of the cross directly at Snyder’s face.
“Fire,
Milly!” Vash shouted as he fired his angel arm, unsure of just how strong the
beam would be.
Help me, Knives. Please help me do this. Help me save them.
Knives
stared at the Maxwell Snyder he had been battling and felt like a fool.
“You’re
another clone,” Knives said. “All this time I thought you were the real one
because I could read your thoughts, but the real one is just as close to me as
you are and it threw my senses off. It’s quite a clever ruse, actually.”
The
Snyder clone smiled. “Did you really think I would enter this fight without an
ace up my sleeve? You really are a fool, Knives.”
Vash’s
voice spoke up in Knives’s head. Help me,
Knives. Please help me do this. Help
me save them.
Knives did not
care one thing about whether the humans lived or died and he also did not care
if Vash lived or died.
Please, Knives! I need you. Together we can
beat him. I just need you to guide my beam and limit its power like you did
earlier!
The only thing
Knives cared about was getting off this rock named Gunsmoke now because he no
longer wanted to be here.
“Tell
me where your spaceship is,” Knives muttered, feigning defeat, “I’ll go
quietly.”
The
Snyder clone’s facial expression was a mixture of shock and outrage. “If I had
known that you cared so much about your worthless brother I would have gone
after him sooner.”
“Just
tell me!”
“Fine,”
the clone shrugged. “It’s two hundred iles to the east, next to the ruins of an
old satellite. If we get going we can be there by nightfall.”
Knives
sent Vash a message via his thoughts: Very
well, Vash. I hope you enjoy the rest of your life living with this trash.
The
clone, incapable of reading thoughts like the original Snyder, had no idea what
was happening until it doubled over in screaming agony.
“You
traitor,” he screamed, “You traitor!”
And
this time when Snyder vanished in the sand Knives took some mild comfort in the
knowledge that the wretch would not be returning anywhere ever again.
With
one last look at the deserted and ruined town, Knives began the long journey to
Snyder’s spaceship.
Goodbye, Vash.
Vash’s angel arm
emitted a small beam of light, a beam with roughly the same diameter as a
baton, and with Knives’s power helping to drive it the speed
increased dramatically. Maxwell Snyder did not have time to dodge it
completely and the beam disintegrated half of his chest and his entire right arm.
“You
can’t kill me,” Snyder screamed in agony.
“But
I can,” Milly announced and pulled the trigger on the rocket launcher.
Snyder’s
head vanished in flames and the knife he had been wielding fell to the floor.
Vash
screamed for Meryl and Frank to get out of the way quick and they did as he
said. Once they were safe, Vash turned up the power on his angel arm and, again
with Knives’s help guiding the blast, Vash aimed at the remnants of Snyder’s
body and fired.
Intense
light filled the room and for a moment no one could see anything.
When
it was over nothing remained of Maxwell Snyder except for one rusty knife that
could no longer close.
“It’s
over,” Vash frowned. He thought about Knives and wasn’t sure how he felt about
him leaving. “I guess it’s really over this time.”
XII. The New Gung-Ho
Guns
Seth
Wolfwood ran up the steps of the Bernardelli
Insurance Building
to greet his mother. She and her good friend Meryl were walking out the door,
chatting about Uncle Vash like they always did.
Seth
reached for his mother and gave her a hug. “Uncle Vash said he was taking me to
the range, but I had to ask you first or else he won’t take me. Can I go? Huh?
Can I go?”
Milly
looked into her son’s eyes and smiled, “Sure, but you got to make sure you do
all the dishes first and then clean your room.”
“Aw,
mom, I already did them yesterday and I cleaned my room a month ago.”
Meryl
knew what was coming, but kept her mouth shut. Milly was sweet, but no one
would ever mistake her for a genius.
“Well,
have fun with Mr. Vash then!”
Seth
jumped down the steps and ran to the end of the alley where Vash waited for
him.
“Look
at him,” Milly said. “He’s only ten years old, but he sounds that much older.
He sounds a lot like his father.”
Meryl
nodded. “And he looks like him, too. It’s amazing how time flies.”
In
the ten years since Knives had left and Maxwell Snyder had been killed life on
Gunsmoke had truly become a new Eden.
But there had been many problems at first.
Meryl had lost her left arm up to the elbow and life had been difficult to adjust to after that. With help from Vash and some of Vash's friends, she had been outfitted with a metal prosthetic arm much like Vash's, but it still felt strange not having her own arm. She supposed that Vash often felt the same way, too.
Brilliant Dynamites Neon had never gotten the chance to duel with Vash because Neon had died from his wounds. Only one cut had been potentially harmful, but one was all it had taken to end the life of the leader of the Bad Lads. The Bad Lads themselves had disbanded after his death and most of them were in jail now, mostly for getting caught on petty jobs; Neon had always been the brains of the operation.
The
sudden loss of a great many plants had put many towns in dire situations. Inepril City had not even been rebuilt because
of the damage to the plant.
Towns
that had plants had become overcrowded and people began to get very violent.
There were riots and beatings. The number of murders and rapes skyrocketed as
well.
Life
in many places had turned into hell… at least until the new plants had arrived five years ago.
There
had been no crew on the ship that had brought plants. There was nothing that
indicated that the ship should have even been operable let alone flying through
space, either. Parts of the ship did not appear like it belonged together, giving the appearance
that the entire ship had been made from scrap.
There
had been twenty plants on board, but these plants were much different than the
ones on Gunsmoke; the designs were much smaller and the energy they put out was
much greater. The plants used to be the tallest structures for iles around, but
now they were no taller than a three story building.
It
was a mystery as to just who had built all of them because the knowledge to
make plants was lost technology. So it truly seemed impossible that anyone
could be capable of making better
plants.
When
Meryl had asked Vash about the ship he always said the same thing without a
shred of doubt, “It was Knives.”
Meryl
did not entirely disbelieve him, either. But she wondered often about how
Knives could have known about everything that was going on down here.
Does he have eyes on us? Is there someone
here who knows where he is and who secretly communicates with him?
Meryl watched as
Vash and Seth walked into the horizon. Vash had a bag of donuts and both of them
appeared to arguing over them. Eventually, Seth wrenched the bag from Vash’s
hands and ran away.
“Come
back here,” Vash shouted. “Don’t you know that you should never come between a
man and his donuts?”
 |
| Kuroneko-sama |
As
Meryl watched a black cat with a large head and green eyes chase after Vash and Seth, she realized that
she had known who Knives’s inside man was all along.
The
infamous Humanoid Typhoon was working with Knives, of course. They might not
ever see each other again, but their bond was a special one and not even space
could separate them now. And Seth would soon be joining them, she knew.
They
were the new Gung-Ho Guns now, but that was far from a bad thing.
“Come
on, Milly,” she said. “Let’s follow Vash and make sure he doesn’t get himself
or Seth in trouble again.”
Milly
nodded. “Let’s go.”
Knives
exited the spaceship he had borrowed from Maxwell Snyder ten years ago and
stared at the hole in the Fifth Moon.
A woman climbed and a small boy climbed out of the ship and stood beside him, neither of them said anything because they did not want to disturb his reverie.
After
a few moments Knives began walking, not knowing or caring about the exact direction
he was going, but he was sure that he would eventually find Vash and have to
help him get out of some sort of trouble.
The woman and child quickly followed, not wanting to be left behind.
"Am I really going to meet him?" the boy asked. "Am I really going to meet him?"
Knives looked at his son and nodded. "You really are."
June
19, 2012 – June 27, 2012
