Chapter 3: 99%
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“Why did the door shut? Clint asked, reaching for it.
Knives pushed him away. “Idiot.” Knives pointed to a thread around the hinges. “If you open it again, it’ll go off, and I don’t know what type of bomb or how many are connected to it. He’s separated us.”
Clint pulled out the small machine Vash had lent him that resembled something like a pen.***
“Vash, we’re bombarded out, is there another way to get in?”
* * *
“There are plenty of doors around us, did you out the bomb through one of them?” Vash asked.
“You’re getting warmer,” Dashen pulled out a small ball, and placed goggles over his eyes.
He threw the ball to the ground, and immediately thick, dark smoke rose form it.
Vash whipped out his gun as quick as he could, and fired at Bandera.
Piercing, the bullet went into his arm, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.
Vash went right for him, and knocked him to the ground.
Bandera rolled over, got to his feet, and disappeared in the smoke, leaving specks of blood behind.
Backing up into a wall, Vash’s eyes watered from the smoke. He closed them, concentrating hard.
Once the wheezing died of the smoke-bomb, he listened.
He could hear Bandera, but he also heard something else, like wheels on the ground. It was getting louder.
Vash opened his eyes for a split second, and saw a small dark object heading straight for him.
“I trust you’ll enjoy my robotic bombs, after all, it’s an honor for you to actually be a victim of one.” Bandera’s voice triumphed. “They move directly to their target, and when they reach them… BOOM!”
Once the packed explosive was several hand lengths away, Vash jumped over it. It stopped for a moment, and turned towards Vash before continuing.
He blinked away the water out of his eyes.
Vash whirled around, screwing up his eyes to find Bandera’s figure in the smoke. He closed them again, listening. He heard them both, the robotic bomb, and Bandera.
He jumped over the bomb again, and dashed for the outline of Bandera. He charged with his gun out and ready, once he was close enough he’d attempt to shoot him again.
Bandera jumped back into the smoke. He liked this game. Vash was like a cornered mouse in the smoke.
He couldn’t just fire whenever he felt like it, because there were explosive behind doors, and in the smoke he had no idea where he was going. There had to be an advantage Vash had that he didn’t.
Listening…another one? …two robotic bombs. ‘If I get them coming after me from different directions while I’m in the center of the room… but where is the center of the room? It’s too dangerous to guess. What do I do?’
Vash jumped over one of the robotic bombs, and once he felt he was at a far enough distance away from the wall, he shot it.
He studied the explosion. Big, but really not that big… bigger then the other bombs he had encountered earlier.
“You’re doing well.”
Vash turned to the voice.
“How many can you hold up against? 3? 4?”
Vash close his eyes. Sure enough, more robotic bombs wheeled across the floor. He dashed to a wall, back to the last, to the north wall, down to the south. The least he could do was estimate the center of the room.
They were coming towards him; 3 in one direction, and one head on… Closer and closer.
He jumped over the one and as it processed his movement the other 3 continued straight.
He ran into the man-shaped figure.
Vash shot for Dashen’s other arm, but he ducked, and attempted to trip Vash in the process.
Vash jumped.<,/p>
Grabbing Vash’s feet, and pulling him to the ground, Bandera jumped on top of him.
He punched Vash in his wound. They rolled over each other in a vicious mass, closer to the robotic bombs.
Bandera stabbed Vash again.
…rolling closer and closer…
Vash kicked Bandera in the stomach; forcing him off and away from himself.
‘Get away! Get away! Get away!’ Urgently, he scrambled.
BOOM!
Vash rolled over himself from the impact of the explosion, and slide across the ground.
Breathing very hard, he tried to sit up, but fell down in spite of his injuries.
* * *
“Vash! Vash!”
It was Clint.
Clint started to cough a little.
Knives grabbed Vash under the armpits, and slide him through a door. Clint shut it behind them.
“Vash, are you okay?” Clint asked desperately.
Vash forced himself to sit.
To Clint’s surprise, Knives pointed his black gun to Vash.
“What are you-?!” Clint said.
“Take off your coat,” Knives ordered, pointing the gun at Clint.
Vash struggled to accomplish this, and didn’t get very far in his condition.
“Help him,” Knives ordered.
Speechless, and afraid, Clint very carefully began to remove the red coat.
“Just relax,” Knives told Vash soothingly while still holding the gun at Clint. “Deep breaths. Let the kid do the work, because you’re going to need your strength.”Clint handed Knives the red coat, and he began to slip it on.
“You really think he’ll think you’re Vash?” Clint asked.
“At first glance… Listen punk, the bomb’s on the brake.” Knives pointed to the opposite wall.
“Can you defuse it?” Vash grunted.
“I need a lot of time, it’s huge. You two need to tell the captain not to touch the brake.” Knives told them. “NOW!”
Clint helped Vash up.
Knives rubbed his hand along a pipe, and quickly wiped the black grease in his brother’s hair.
“Now hurry.”
He turned to the brake once they were gone. Studying it, he muttered, “now I understand your works…”
* * *
Meanwhile, Meryl was racing through the Sandsteamer back in her old rhythm of such circumstances. She would act crisp, yet sincere; it was important to keep everyone on their feet. More people had agreed to branch out and help her recruit everyone, while a few others refused to believe a female passenger.
“Excuse me, Sir!” She went after an old man that she spotted walking briskly. “Excuse me!”
The man stopped, and immediately showed sympathy to Meryl’s expression.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Dashen Bandera, he’s here, I think there is a bomb on here.” She explained. “We need-“
“Dashen Bandera?” The old man repeated in dismay. “He’s here for me no doubt.”
“What?” Merly asked in confusion.
“Ralph Woods,” he introduced himself. “He has been after me for months now.”
Meryl didn’t have much time to let it sink in. “We’ll get you out of here,” Meryl said, but hoped she wouldn’t be proven a liar by the end of the day.
* * *
“Take it easy, you’ll bleed to death,” Clint told Vash as he left his trail of blood behind.
“No I won’t.”
“It looks like it. It must really hurt.”
Vash smiled. “Trust me, I’ve had worse, and let’s hope I can always say that when I’m giving us away with my trail.”
“It’s sick…sorry, but it is nasty,” Clint said, looking away.
“We’re slowing down.” Vash noted the Sandsteamer’s movement. “Why are we slowing down?” He asked bewildered. “Oh, no.”
He started running.
Clint couldn’t stand it. He was going to kill himself.
“I’ll run on ahead,” he suggested. “Be careful.”
Madly, he began to dash.
* * *
“Once we stop, we’ll all be able to get off,” Meryl said; adrenaline still in her. “But it will take a few minutes; we need to round up anyone else in the mean time.”
The passengers were dead silent. Everyone was listening to her now.
* * *
Knives growled in rage. “No! The brake! Idiots! Filthy Humans! Errr!”
He glared at the pack of explosives that had the numbers 19:55 glowing in red.
“Fine!” He yelled and stood up, stopping for a moment to sense his brother, and charged out of the small room.
* * *
“The bomb’s on the brake!” Clint cried, bursting through the door. “Don’t use the brake!” He told the captain.
And to Clint’s surprise, they didn’t question.
* * *
Knives whirled around just as a big sombreroed man jumped him.
“Get off me! Disgusting-“ Knives kicked, and went straight for Dashen’s wounded arm. “Tricked you, didn’t I?” He smiled.
Bandera continued at him with his dagger, hardly caring if there was a difference in the man in the red coat. He had no idea just how different he was. Knives wasn’t anything like Vash. Vash didn’t kill a crew one by one. Vash didn’t deserve a threatening bounty. Vash wasn’t so prideful that he deserved to be plated with bloody spikes. Vash wasn’t covered in selfishness, strangling him like a scaffold.
Knives pulled out his gun in a slender action.
Vash wasn’t alone as a bullet-less gun.*
His arm arched gracefully, so each joint curved with silent viciousness.
Vash didn’t isolate himself.
His arm, like a broken grave stone, straightened, clutching the gun.
Vash wasn’t a cold-blooded killer.
He was aiming at the villain’s head.
Vash didn’t murder on instinct.
His finger moved back.
Vash didn’t ask for the blood on his hands.
The man’s limp body fell to the ground.
Vash doesn’t murder on instinct.
The red sombrero rolled off.
But this wasn’t Vash…
* * *
Vash slowed down, surely Clint had reached them by now…but what if they didn’t believe a 14 year old? Then again, the Sandsteamer hadn’t slowed anymore.
“Vash!”
He knew it was Knives before he even turned around.
His brother was out of breath.
They made eye-contact and Vash was surprised to see Knives look away, but thought nothing of it.
“The bomb is counting down. We must have 17 minutes- not enough time to stop it.” He breathed. “I’ve got to tell them not to push the brake anymore, it will decrease the time we have left.”
Clint reached them.
“I told them,” he said.
“It’s already going,” Vash said.
“What?!” He cried in distress. “What about everyone?”
“Find the insurance girl, tell her to get them off now. We can’t slow it anymore.” Knives ordered.
Taking two more breaths, Clint nodded and went to find Meryl Strife.
“Here,” Knives said once Clint was out of sight.
Knives placed his bloodshed hand on Vash’s collar bone. “You’ll slow me down.”
Vash felt his energy rise somewhat; a trick with plants.
Knives lifted his hand. “Let’s go. We’ll tell the crew.”
* * *
After swimming through a crowd of people, Clint reached the violet-head.
“Muh- Meryl,” Clint tugged at her.
Meryl looked into the teen’s worried face.
“Clint?”
“Meryl, we got to get everyone off now.”
“The captain was going to stop the Sandsteamer but-“
“Now! The bomb is on the brake, and we have less than 17 minutes.”
The color drained out of Meryl’s face.
Fear pricked up her back.
The old Meryl could stand in front of guns, stand up for others, and even willingly put her life on the line. Yes, it was scary, but there are things worth dying for.
But now she was scared, like a child hidden under the covers. She was shaking. She couldn’t do this. She glanced over the crowd of people. How was she, an unimportant insurance girl, supposed to get all these people off a moving Sandsteamer?
Clint was disappointed with her lack of action. “We’re wasting time.”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded hollow.
“What about the ship defense? Isn’t there any automobiles?!”
“There is!” A man from the crowd cried. “I found them when we were rounding up passengers.”
“Yes, don’t panic, we need to work together.” Meryl agreed.
* * *
“The bomb is counting down,” Vash explained. “If you pull the brake anymore, it will speed it up the little time we have. Captain, you have to get off of this Sandsteamer.”
The Captain hesitated.
“There’s no time!”
“I will, but I need to finish a few things to help the passengers.”
“Vash,” Knives addressed. “Let’s go.”
Vash paused, and then nodded, adding “Please hurry.”
They hustled through the Sandsetamer.
“Wait…we have to make sure everyone is out,” Vash insisted.
“Meryl has all of them. I ran into her before I met up with you.” Knives lied.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. We would be wasting our time looking for someone who isn’t there. Hurry!”
Vash struggled to keep up with him as they curved through halls. How much longer did they have?
After what felt like an eternity, they found the group of people.
“Oh, thank goodness you guys made it, I was getting worried.” Clint greeted them. He scanned over Vash. “Then again, I still am.”
“How are things? Where’s Meryl?” Vash asked desperately.
“We’re using the defense automobiles… slipping them off one by one. Meryl’s helping passengers get on.” Clint answered.
“Is there anything I can do?” Vash asked.
Meryl looked up as another car skimmed down the ramp. Her eyes widened. Vash. Oh, he was a mess. She could hardly stand to look at him. It hurt, and it had been years since she had seen anyone such a mess. The poor guy… even when she didn’t feel attracted to him, she couldn’t stand it. And how could Knives- that disgusting criminal- be wearing his red coat.
“Vash,” She called to him. “Nearly everyone is out; we’ll go with the last of them.”
Vash looked at Meryl; still beautiful even in a time like this.
“Hurry,” she called.
Knives, Clint, and Vash rushed to her, and helped the remaining passengers (including the captain) into the automobile.
Meryl glanced around for a moment. “Get in, I’ll be there in just a moment.”
Vash opened his mouth, but she stopped him. “Hurry, I’ll be quick.”
He shut his mouth, and followed the other blondes inside.
A little girl was crying across from him.
“Don’t worry,” Vash comforted. “We’ll be okay.”
These words didn’t comfort the girl much at all, considering how awful the man looked that said them.
Meryl reappeared in the doorway and right away Vash felt his stomach drop. He could hear more crying from outside.
“There are more people; I’ll go in another car with them.” Meryl insisted.
Vash’s heart was pumping.
When Vash was young, he remembered Rem telling him it was important for him to know their history; it will repeat itself. And at this moment, Vash knew her next word, her next phrase like he knew the back on his hand. He couldn’t stand the words, they had cut into his soul for years and years, and they would again.
“Vash take care of them-“
“No!” He cried desperately. His eyes were hot, and prickled just before water began to seep into them.
Meryl was caught off guard. She stared into his aqua eyes.
“Bring them in here!”
“There’s no room,” Meryl pointed out.
Tears sprawled out. “Please!” He begged.
She wasn’t going to.
“Please! Meryl, please!”
She stared at him.
Vash wouldn’t let her go, she couldn’t. He could hardly stand it. “I don’t want to loose you again!”
Meryl ripped her eyes away from Vash to face those outside. “We’re going with them.” Meryl called. “No time to argue.”
No one talked on the bumpy ride down the ramp onto the dirt, and Vash felt drained as his tears slowed.
He didn’t fully understand it, but he knew if he had let Meryl leave she would have been lost; just like Rem. Just like any women he would fall in love with was doomed to die. The only way of escaping it would be to never love; to isolate himself from the world.
“Vash?” Clint broke the silence.
He was still wearing those black sunglasses.
“Are you okay?” His voice was tender, and gentle with concern.
That’s when Vash realized how stupid he must have come across; he’d sure be hearing it from Knives. He shouldn’t care though.
He wiped the tear off his hand. He wanted to smile; to cry out “we’re alive! Let’s celebrate!” but he couldn’t say anything. He was too tired, too drained, and too confused.
The car bumped along the road, following the lead of the others.
Meryl snuck a glance at him. She wondered so much about him, she always had.
The car slowed down to a stop where all the other automobiles were, and people were getting out. All eyes on the Sandsteamer as it continued through the dirt.
Clint helped Vash out. “Someone will need to patch you up,” he noted. “Will Knives-“
“Meryl will probably do it, at least she used to.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Vash watched a woman walk to Meryl. “Is this all? She asked desperately.
Meryl looked at the woman.
“No one else is coming?”
Vash’s eyes began to scan the people violently.
There was so sombrero.
Meryl was speechless.
“We’re missing people!” The lady cried. “Family members! There are loved ones still on that?!”
“I didn’t-“ Meryl stammered.
“I’ll get them,” Vash spoke up.
Several people whirled around to him.
“Vash, it’ll go any second.” Clint argued.
“Please! My wife is still on there!” A young man cried. “I thought she was with me, but we must have split ways.”
Vash turned to leave, and then it sounded.
The boom echoed through the grounds like thunder. The ground vibrated as the side of the Sandsteamer exploded. Debris shattered from it, and several seconds later there was another boom, and another side went out. Orange and black reached out to the sky shaped with curves and bumps like popcorn.
Without warning, Vash’s knees buckled.
If you could look into the weary gunman’s mint green eyes, you would see it reflected like a portrait with mingled emotion; emotions such as fear, grief, anger, and disappointment.