-44-45-

TRIGUN #15
Fragile

the brightness of the Sheriff's office backlights Vash spectacularly against the night outside.  blue pricks around the edge of his eyes, colder than a winter's day and deeper than Hell.  Monev glares at the other man like he's a demon straight out of the worst legend ever known.  ...which is what Vash really is, after all.
Monev- //thinking//  Would ya look at those eyes.  So you've finally decided to show your true colors… Diablo.  Frickin' sloppy counter-attack, though.
two neat holes gouged out of the compact muscle of Monev's right shoulder dribble blood.
Monev- //thinking// Like hell he actually aimed there.
there's a soft whoosh and the gattling-bracelet on the wounded arm thumps to the ground.

-46-
a quick movement and Monev leaps to the top of a nearby building in one bound.  pretty impressive, considering he's the size of a small mountain.  Vash watches him go, silent.  a second later, he takes off as well.
Deputy- Yes!  Now his firepower's halved---
Sheriff- This is baaaaaaaad…
Deputy- Sheriff?
Sherrif- He's given up on his weakest weapon.  There's something nastier he wants to use!

-47-
Vash runs down roads and alleys, uncharacteristically wordless.  bystanders and innocents take only one look at his drawn gun and the expression on his face before diving for cover.
Vash- //thinking// Where?  Where the hell did he go?
stopping for a second he looks carefully in all directions, scanning rooftops and alleys with eyes, and maybe something more.  all of a sudden, he snaps his gaze in one direction, staring hard at the wall of a building.

-48-
two streets over --in a bee-line from where Vash stands-- Monev grins.  the remaining gattling bracelet begins to whirr, a knife-straight gash quickly working its way through two rows of buildings and the road between.

-49-
Vash's eyes pop open and he quickly drops into a crouch, leveling his gun at the building's wall.  something in the distance starts to roar.
Vash- EVERYBODY DOWN!!!!!
the wall in front of him bursts apart in a hail of bullets.

-50-
coming through who knows how many walls, the bullets' speed and accuracy is, by that point, well off.  Vash crouches steadily in front of the new hole, bullets whizzing by him but not hitting, carefully aiming. one shot, two, no time for a third.  one bullet was on target enough to slam into Vash's left arm, midway between shoulder and elbow.  Vash chokes down a scream.

-51-
but the two rounds he did get off do their job with scary efficiency.  Monev's head rocks back with the force of their impact, two new circular cracks in his faceplate.  one is dead center on his right eye, the other close to the center of his forehead.  the gattling bracelet stutters to a halt.

-52-
recovering quickly, he calls a temporary retreat, his mind still stumbling over this latest surprise move on Vash's part.
Monev- //thinking// ………!!  What the hell?!  How'd he pull off that kind of shot in the middle of that…?!  The bastard is nuts!  He's gotta be!  It's like he's living a nightmare or something!

Millie finally stumbles out of the Sheriff's office and goes looking for Vash.  it's not hard to find him; there are more plumes of white haze --gun smoke, dust, pulverized wood-- floating about him.
Millie- Mr. Vash!!
she freezes, mouth dropping open in shock and a scream clogging her throat.
Vash- Stay back, moron!!  You'll get shot!

-53-
the dust settles slowly, but Vash never takes his eyes off the far end of the newly made, cloudy tunnel.  his right hand holds the Longshot at the ready, the other dangles uselessly. …from the shackles.  Vash never bothered to undo the metal cuffs binding his wrists together on a short chain.  that ended up being a good thing.  if he had, his left arm would be lying in the dirt somewhere.  blood drips sporadically from the stump, which ends about a handspan below his shoulder.
no counterattack on Monev's part forthcoming, the first ever declared Localized Disaster takes a look over what will undoubtedly be labeled his handiwork.  bodies lie sprawled all around, some buried in the piles of rubble, others caught in Monev's hail. 
memories burble to the surface, and Vash's eyes turning inward.

-54-
Young Vash- You MURDERER!!
KLONK.
a small fist thonks into steel bulkhead, its intended target dodging away with infuriating ease.
Young Knives- Murderer?  Such high praise.  I thank you.
to use an old proverb; if looks could kill, Young Knives would have died on the spot.
Young Knives- Don't you know?  Don't you have any idea what that miserable race called "humanity" did to the world that gave it birth?
ships continue their plummet toward the barren planet below them.  more slowly, and with more control, the escape pod takes the same course.
Young Knives- That poor star is beyond our power to save.  All that's left to it is quiet death.  Yet those parasites still eat at it, intent on devouring every last crumb of life…!  Can you believe that?

-55-
the words go in one ear and right out the other.  Young Vash has only one thing running through his mind.
Young Vash- SHUTTUP!! GIVE REM BACK!!
he makes another mad dash at his twin, fist raised high.  Young Knives simply heaves a sigh.
Young Knives- …utterly clueless.
a quick grab and a deft twist, and Young Vash goes flipping spikes over buns.  the metal decking collides painfully with his back, all the air wooshing out of his lungs.
Young Knives- Calm down, would you?  I'm trying to teach you something here.
Young Vash doesn't hear him, frustration and pain all his tired, shocked mind could process.
Young Vash- //thinking// Damnit…. Rem!
a softly smiling face wafts through his memory, followed closely by the glowing red fragments of a shattering Ship.
Young Vash- //thinking// REM!!!

-56-
Computer- Plant Ship course correction accepted.
the bland voice dumps a bucket of ice water on Young Knives' mood.  he forgets about his twin immediately.
Young Knives- What?
Computer- All Ships adjust course to conform.  Plant Ship now returned to master program control.
Young Knives- How..?  Unbelievable!  Even with the mother-ship breaking apart around her, she still managed a System Operator Master Override?!

-57-
the giant booster engines on each Ship flare to life, trajectories changing that small amount that makes a difference between survivable landing and total burnup in the atmosphere.
Young Knives- …reverse thrust.  My program overridden, an emergency landing forced… millions will be saved.  …I'll be damned.  She won.
outside the single little window on the escape pod, the last bits of the Mother Ship glowed faintly against the brown planet below.

-58-
now, only Vash knows how many years later, he stops for a moment, looking up at the countless stars.  visions of Rem's smiling face war with the roar of booster rockets and the hot sting of unstoppable tears.  but he only has a moment.  tucking his severed left arm under his right, he strides towards his destination…

-59-
…Planet Bank.  who knows what hour of the night it is, but there's still one old clerk there, the single lamp lighting the room.  he's about as surprised to find Vash in the doorway as we are to find him still working.  the overtime pay is good, I guess.  Our Weary Hero isn't smiling, though.  he levels the Longshot at the Clerk as best he can and still keep a good hold on his left arm.
Vash- I need to borrow your safe.  Open it.  Now!

-60-
outside, blood splatters dot an easily found trail right to the bank.  Monev looks on from a little ways back, grinning a wolf's grin.
Monev- A bank, huh.  I'm reading you like a book, Stampede.  You're gonna try to use the vault as a shield, aren't you.
the huge, round vault door does stand open, the metal fully as thick as the width of Vash's shoulders.  Vash himself sits in the doorframe, trying to reload.

-61-
one leg is folded to hold the gun's barrel, his right hand carefully shoving bullets into the cylinder.
Vash- No time to reload again, not at this rate. Next round's gotta end it.
blood still drips intermittently from the stump of his left arm.  it looks like it was mechanical that far up, but having the whole thing unexpectedly and violently removed had to hurt.  bloodloss can't be inconsiderable by this point either.  Vash's head has to be swimming.  his hands are certainly far from steady.  the shaking is bad enough that it's a labor of several seconds just to get a single round into the chamber.  he curses, breath starting to come in more and more ragged gasps.
Vash- //thinking// That is… if I can hold out that long…  Dammit… hurry up and come at me already!

-62-
Monev is in no hurry to oblige, though.  who knows where in the city, he locates his duffle, suspended between two buildings by metal clasps.  guns of every sort poke out of it from every direction.  shuffling around in it for a second, he then heaves out something huge.
Monev- I'm gonna blow you straight to hell, Vash the Stampede!!

-63-
at the bank, a low rumbling starts, growing steadily louder and stronger, like a loaded freight train coming through.  the poor, bewildered Clerk clutches at his desk, likely wondering just what the heck is coming this time.
THOOM
the dry ground cracks where Monev lands, dust poofing up in a cloud around him.
Monev- Heh, heh, heh, heh.  Ain't gonna work, Stampede!  It doesn't matter where you hide. Let me show you why I'm called Monev "The Gale".

-64-
the gattling gun he levels at the front door of the bank is big enough to look more appropriate attached to a battle cruiser.  the 5 barrels are wide enough that the thing probably takes bullets as long as a man's hand.
Monev- I'll punch straight through that metal door and you, VASH THE STAMPEDE!!!
setting his stance, Monev opens fire.

-65-
a gale indeed.  the wooden bank doors don't last a second.  the hand-width thick metal door to the safe room lasts barely longer, head-sized holes swiss-cheesing it inside a few breaths.  from inside the great vault itself, walls as thick as Vash is wide, pinpricks of white light start shining into it, bullet holes making a star-like pattern against it's dark, empty insides.  let me repeat, empty insides. the door to the vault is still wide open.  Monev notices this… too late.

-66-67-
by leaving the vault door wide open, Vash created a little gap next to the hinges.  that space is still in the vault's doorway, but the entire length of the steel door itself stretches directly out in front of him.  sure, Monev's gargantuan gun can put holes through two feet of metal easily, but it can't put holes through around eight feet.  reading the flow of bullets flying past him, Vash times his move very carefully, sliding his good arm up the metal door and using only one eye to get the Longshot lined up perfectly---
Monev sees what's coming, but he can do nothing but gape.  three shots impact with his head at almost the same instant, one by each ear and the last above his eyes.

-68-
none of the three was a kill shot, but Monev's faceplate does go flipping off.  eyes instinctively squinching shut with the hits, he opens them only to find Vash's knee crashing into his left eye-socket.  the gattling cannon drops and Monev crashes to the ground, Vash perched neatly on his chest.  a quick switch and the barrel of the Longshot replaces the knee.

-69-
and there they freeze.  or so it seems.  his own guns gone, Vash's stuck in his eye, Monev starts to quiver.  not in a good mood, Our Pissed Hero hasn't let up the pressure he put behind his gun, the barrel digging deeper and deeper into Monev's left eye--- until it pops, blood gushing down the side of Monev's face. the other man lets a short scream escape, a real fear for his life taking ahold of him.  he starts begging.
Monev- p-p-p-please…. don't kill me…
wrong words.  Vash grits his teeth and pulls back the hammer with a decisive jerk.  now Monev screams in earnest.

-70-71-
something soft brushes past Vash, like the gentle unfolding of wings.  in the first flashes of dawns light, one can almost see the figure of a long-haired woman swathed in white cloth lifting away from him, aiming for the sky.  Vash's eyes snap wide open.

-72-
whatever rage Our Poor Hero was in the grip of since the night's beginning finally lets go.  biting his lip so hard it bleeds, he lifts the bloodied gun away from Monev, his hands shaking so hard the gun rattles. sunlight starts peeking over his shoulder.

-73-
tears start falling.
Vash- //thinking// If I'd pulled the trigger just now… … She really would die…
he collapses in on himself, still shaking.

-74-
daylight bathes the area, bystanders finally deciding the furor has ended.  only the most curious edge towards the fallen giant and the red-coated, cringing demon that felled him.
worry written clearly on their faces, Meryl and Millie stride towards his hunched figure.
Vash- //thinking// Rem…

Fragile/ END

back