CROSSFIRE
A/N: Part of Guardian of a Lifetime series, the fourth sub-series of Gungrave: Aftermath. Set after Wintertime Business. This is written for July 2016 Camp NaNo.
All disclaimers apply.
Chapter 1: The Loyalist
"You're visiting the bar?" One of the two bouncers spat, folding his brawny arms. "You gotta be kidding. Necrolyzers don't drink."
"And you're from Millennion," the other bouncer added. "Something smells fishy here."
"For safety measures, we can't let you in."
These two men had no idea about who he was, Brandon thought. They sure looked big and muscular for civilians, but his eye registered them as nothing but dwarves. None of them stood as tall as his shoulders.
Brandon simply seized a bouncer by his arm and slammed him against the other. With both of them down, he stepped forward and pushed the bar's iron door open.
"Stop right there!"
It took only an elbow to halt the sneak attack. A groan and a thud followed. But a pair of arms suddenly snaked around him.
Brandon could actually drag the shrimp along with him, but his head told him not to. A thrust from his sound leg propelled him backwards, and he crashed to the ground. His massive body crushed the two bouncers under its weight, incapacitating them.
Upon getting up, he resumed his stride. Dim lights and the guests' widened eyes greeted him inside, and his ears detected a loud "A necrolyzer!" amidst the tranquil lounge music.
Men and women poured out of the bar, screams of terror escaping from their mouths. But five fearless fools remained, picking up the stools and wine bottles nearby.
Brandon's tough flesh deflected everything thrown at him. Demoralized, his attackers stood still with their jaws dropped and arms shaking. However, one roared and charged with a stool in his grasp.
The furniture broke as soon as it hit him. The attacker, now reduced to a trembling midget, stuttered, "S-sorry! L-let me go!"
With a nod, Brandon flicked him away.
Approaching the marble counter, he searched for the bartender or anybody who would give him some clues about the owner's location. Unfortunately, he found a few empty glasses and racks of wine bottles instead of a person. But his gut refused to give up. Somebody's hiding around here. With a string of solid punches and kicks, he carved an entrance to the back of the counter.
Beyond the path, a man in an apron crouched with hands on his head and eyes squinted shut. Target found, and Brandon picked him up by his neck. "Take me to your boss," he demanded.
The bartender had opened his eyes and let go of his head, but his mouth remained shut. Even after Brandon slammed him lightly against the smooth tabletop, it refused to budge. Running out of patience, he directed the man's face to the jagged edges of the broken counter.
The bartender didn't want a mangled face. "Stop it! I'll g-guide you!"
Brandon nodded, walking away with the man in his grasp.
Unoccupied tables with half-empty wine glasses and bottles stood before him; some of them had fallen, forming an obstacle course. But the bartender pointed in another direction, prompting him to leave the chaos behind.
A huge iron door lay before them. "Boss' office is beyond this point," the bartender told him.
"Hope you're telling the truth." With a kick, Brandon turned the door into a doormat. Luminescence escaped from the hallway beyond.
The lounge music slowly faded as Brandon went further away from the bar, but the chilly wind remained. The breeze blowing across his face relaxed his body, though he remained focused. If this bartender led him to a trap, at least, his enemies wouldn't catch him off-guard.
Brandon found a huge iron door at the end of the hallway. He stared at the bartender, who told him, "Y-yes, Boss is inside."
"Thank you." After releasing the man, he grabbed the bar handle. A thrust from his sound leg and a shoulder lunge ripped the door hinge off the wall, launching him forward.
Bullets pinged off his makeshift shield. Foul words followed, but they only helped him locate his foes. A swing of the door sent those varmints smashing against the wall.
Further in front of him, a desk stood with a chubby bald man sitting on it. A lit cigar rested between his teeth. "Mr. Zed Archer," Brandon remarked.
"Millennion always sends you whenever they can't get the job done." He took the cigar from his mouth and exhaled a puff of smoke. "Are you here to talk about your ridiculous land tax?"
Brandon nodded. "I don't see anything ridiculous with it. Fifteen percent of this bar's profit is reasonable."
"That is about fifty million yules per month for you."
And you called that ridiculous. Brandon shook his head. That wasn't even a quarter of his medical expense for a month.
"You aren't getting anything from us!" Zed snapped, tossing the cigar at Brandon's face. "Buzz off!"
I'll take the money by myself then. Covering himself back with the giant door, Brandon charged and rammed Zed. The fat man crashed to the ground along with the desk.
Shield up, he shuffled around the room for the safe box. Nothing looked like one, unfortunately. But it could be on the wall, couldn't it? One could hide that behind a painting, as far as he knew from his experience as a predatory moneylender.
Now, Brandon knew where he should go. He approached the painting of a teapot on the wall and put away his makeshift shield. His only hand removed the ornament, revealing a steel door with a keypad and a small, glowing green screen.
"You don't know the password anyway." Zed's muffled laugh came from behind. "Don't bother threatening me either. I won't speak up."
It felt like dealing with a recalcitrant customer in his loan shark business. Because he had to deal with obstacles instead of directions, Brandon didn't need any help from his 'client'. His knuckles busted the steel door in a hit, exposing the bundles of money inside the safe.
Grabbing the door and throwing it away, he heard Zed shout, "Somebody, stop this monster!"
Brandon pulled a folded fabric bag out of his coat pocket. After unfolding it, he held it with his teeth and began scooping stacks of money into its opening. With the safe emptied and the bulky loot bag in hand, he turned to Zed.
"You bastard!" the fat man barked, still lying on the floor with his bloodstained hands covering his nose. "You're taking more than the tax!"
"The remaining cash is to compensate the casualties you've inflicted on Millennion," Brandon replied. "You should've talked to our men nicely instead of injuring them."
Cursing, Zed pulled a pistol out of his suit and fired at Brandon. Like the two bouncers outside, the fat man had no idea about his foe. Regular bullets would never pierce through a necrolyzer's flesh.
Smirking at the man's stupidity, Brandon left the office with a trail of dented shells behind him.
Food and luxury meant nothing to necrolyzers; if they had money, they would only spend it to sustain their lives through renewal therapy. But Brandon wouldn't. Biscoe had used Millennion's wealth to cover his medical expense, forcing him to spend his earnings on something else. And with Mika around, he had learnt to use the money for her happiness.
It had delighted him more than he could imagine, although he never liked how he earned the money. Unfortunately, that was the only way to take care of his family.
With an envelope in his hand, Brandon stepped into Dr. Tokioka's trailer - his and Mika's home. Inside, he found Mika dressed in pajamas and partially covered in a blanket. Sitting on the steel bench with a pair of outstretched legs, she read a comic book with a pair of half-closed eyes.
His heavy footsteps drew her attention. Putting away the book, she rose from her bed and ran to him. "Brandon! I was so worried that I couldn't sleep. I heard they sent you to attack the Chimera family."
"It was nothing." He handed the envelope to Mika and walked towards the shoe rack.
"You weren't hurt?"
Taking off his shoes, Brandon shook his head and smiled slightly. That silly question of Mika's always amused him. She knew his strength; he displayed it whenever they went for a walk in the slum. A thug appeared with a knife? He would grab the blade and crush it. Most hoodlums knew to flee after that.
But his heart always thanked Mika for asking him the funny question. It meant she still cared about him.
Mika walked towards him, waving the envelope. "Um, what should we do with the money? Five million yules is a lot."
"You decide." Looking down at Mika, Brandon patted the little girl's head. "You can buy more snacks or some new clothes-"
"Wait, you're asking me to forget about you?" Mika frowned. "You were the one who earned the money."
It doesn't matter anyway. But Brandon never liked arguing, especially with Mika. Seconds passed as he racked his brain, and he thought of a peaceful solution. They hadn't visited her parents for a few months, so Mika would definitely love a trip to the cemetery. And they would spend some money on their way, too.
"Let's visit your parents tomorrow," he suggested.
As per his tradition, he would always stop by the florist before going to the cemetery. He needed two posies of forget-me-nots, his favorite flowers. Their symbolism had grabbed his interest since he first learnt their legend from his mother. And Mika, too, had grown to love them, as he had also told her the tragic love story behind those little blue flowers.
"Once upon a time, a knight and his lady love strolled along a riverside. The knight saw some beautiful blue flowers on the steppingstones amidst the stream, so he decided to pick them up for his lady. Sadly, his armor was too heavy, and he slipped as he gathered the flowers. Before drowning, he tossed them at his beloved and shouted, 'Forget me not!' After the incident, the lady wore those flowers on her hair until she passed away. That was how these flowers earned their name. They symbolize undying love and loyalty."
Stepping into the flower shop, he heard the blond florist say from the counter, "Long time no see, Mr. Brandon and little Mika. Two bouquets of forget-me-nots again?" she asked. "I never thought a necrolyzer could be so expressive."
Brandon nodded with a smirk, while Mika spoke for him, "He's different from his kind, Mrs. Jenny."
"I know. He isn't the type we must be afraid of." Jenny walked out of the counter. "Anyway, have a seat. I'll get the bouquets done soon."
As he and Mika sat on a steel bench and waited for the flowers, Brandon snickered at Jenny's statement. Not the type of necrolyzer everybody must be afraid of, huh? Well, that only applied if people didn't wrong Millennion or Mika.
Minutes flew by without any news from Jenny, and Mika had fallen asleep. With her leaning against his side, Brandon decided not to search the book stand for a magazine. If he left, he might bother her and interrupt the sleep she needed. Poor thing must've spent the whole night worrying about him.
After a moment of watching over Mika, Brandon finally saw Jenny with two posies of forget-me-nots. As the florist approached the counter and put the flowers down on the table top, he gently poked Mika on her forehead.
Mika opened her eyes. "Uh, what's up?"
Brandon pointed at the forget-me-nots, prompting her to pull away and sit upright. They then stood up and headed to the counter.
"One hundred and fifty thousand yules, Sir," Jenny said.
Brandon fished his wallet out of his coat pocket. With his teeth, he took the money out. Fortunately, they had often bought flowers from Jenny, so he didn't have to worry about his image.
After paying Jenny, Brandon and Mika picked up the posies of forget-me-nots and left the shop.
Cars sped along the shoveled driveway outside. Their van, parked right in front of the flower shop, would soon join the speeding vehicles as well, only if they could find Arnold. That driver must've gone to a coffee shop.
Looking around, Brandon spotted a few umbrella tables across the road. He didn't see Arnold, but he had a hunch that their driver was nearby. With Brandon acting as a moving wall for Mika, they crossed the road. A car had to get through him first before it could hit her, although its owner - if he or she had the guts - might complain to him for damaging the vehicle later.
Shoes finally crunching through the snow again, Brandon studied the surroundings. Instead of Arnold, he found Vash playing with a smartphone at one of the umbrella tables. A half-eaten doughnut and a cup of coffee lay in front of him. A woman and a boy stood beside him, their eyes fixed at the gadget.
"Mr. Vash, build a wall-nut here," the boy told him, pointing at the screen. "The zombies can easily destroy the peashooters."
"Really?" Moments later, he burst out laughing. "Too late. Can no longer build a wall-nut here. Oh, well, let's just prepare for a restart."
Vash the Stampede. A few days ago, a wormhole in his world dragged him into Billion. Brandon knew what to do when he first arrived: tricking him into borrowing money from his moneylender service. He succeeded, but he couldn't make Vash return the money. That broom head, slick as an eel, always got away from him.
But Brandon wouldn't talk about Vash's debt again; if he did, they would start another pursuit and wreak havoc - a reason why Millennion had decided to let go of Vash. Moreover, the broom head had helped him; during their chase, Brandon had broken his prosthetic leg by accident. At this, Vash had decided to give him the money he had borrowed, so that he could fix his prosthesis without angering Norton.
Since he hadn't thanked Vash for his help, he would approach him and do it now.
As Brandon and Mika walked towards Vash, the woman stared at him. She then told the boy, "Ed, let's go home."
"Why, Mom?" the boy turned, his gaze meeting Brandon's. His eyes widened, and he immediately snatched his smartphone from Vash's hands. "Sorry, Mr. Vash. We're going home." With that, he left with the woman.
A confused Vash sat still, but once he saw Brandon, he sighed. "Want a piece of advice, buddy? Stop being a crook. People will surely warm up to you."
You're asking me to leave my family. Brandon cast a fierce glare at him. Don't you know? Whether people know I'm a loan shark or not, they will always avoid me. They think necrolyzers are monsters.
"It's for your own good, y'know?" Brandon remained still, so Vash asked, "Hey, did I just say something wrong?"
"You insulted him," Mika replied flatly. "To him, it's okay to extort people as long as it benefits Millennion."
"You're a strange guy," Vash grumbled. "Why are you so dedicated to a mafia organization? Mobsters do horrible things."
"They are my family."
"Doesn't mean that you can't change your way of life."
There's no way I can. But too lazy to argue with Vash, Brandon turned away with a sulky face. Besides, I'm here to look for Arnold. "Anyway, thank you for the money last time."
"Huh?"
Walking away with Mika, Brandon added, "You gave me the money to repair my prosthesis."
Various restaurants stood beside them. Brandon didn't bother searching those buildings, as Arnold would never eat expensive food without his wife and his son. So he kept walking until he came across a convenience store, the only place Arnold would show interest in aside from the coffee shop during working hours.
Approaching the automatic sliding doors, Brandon spotted Arnold standing before the cashier. After keeping his wallet, he left the mini mart with a pack of cigarettes in his hand.
Arnold noticed Brandon's glare. "I'm sorry, Sir. I thought you weren't finished with the flowers yet." He paused. "Uh, I do think you look a little sour now."
"Maybe visiting Mom and Dad will cheer you up," Mika said.
Brandon nodded, but his face remained sullen.
Dense grey clouds filled the sky. Skeletal trees stood in the distance with icicles hanging on their branches. The snow had covered most of the headstones and turned the graveyard into a field of white.
Like Mika had said, Brandon finally cracked a smile at the cemetery. Once he placed the posy of forget-me-nots on Big Daddy's grave, he could see his glowing apparition hovering in front of him. Before he vanished into the thin air, he heard him mutter with a smile, "Thank you for not forgetting us, Brandon."
Looking to his right side, he found out that Mika had placed the other bouquet on Maria's grave. She looked at him with a smile. "I told you so." Laughing softly, she wrapped her tiny arms around Brandon's waist and leant on his stomach. "Glad to see you in a good mood again."
Brandon replied with a nod. Once Mika released him, he looked at the snowy ground around Big Daddy's and Maria's headstones. Thick snow had concealed his friends' unmarked graves. They also needed tombstones, he thought, else people would walk over them.
Unlike Big Daddy and Maria, whose child inherited Millennion's throne, Biscoe would never want to spend the organization's money for his friends' headstones. Knowing that those poor people could only rely on him, Brandon said in his heart, I'll work harder. I promise I'll get a headstone for each of you.
Suddenly, Brandon heard a series of fast, irregular footsteps from the distance. As he turned, Mika shouted from beside him, "People are coming with guns!"
Within a split second, Brandon put himself in front of Mika. His massive torso deflected the incoming barrage of bullets, but breathing became uncomfortable. What is this?
Four men stood in front of him; each of them had a huge pistol in their hands. Brandon's eye widened at the sight of the guns. The D-Points. They discharged large caliber bullets, which would hurt a necrolyzer like how pebbles would when tossed at a human.
"Brandon Heat, is it?" one of the man asked. "You'll pay for what you've done to Mr. Zed and his bar!"
Brandon braved the next hail of bullets slowly, his breathing grew ragged with each step and shot. But he must not fall. Mika needed him as a shield.
The discomfort in his chest seemed to fade once he reached the guards. Swiftly, he picked a man up by his neck and slammed him against another. With a backhand punch to the head, he knocked the other out.
But one had slipped away from his visual field. No, not Mika! He turned around.
Unfortunately, his fear came true. With his arm wrapped around Mika's neck, the man pressed the barrel of the gun against the girl's head.
"Move a muscle, and she'll be dead."
You scum. Locked in place, he could only watch tears seeping out of Mika's closed eyes. He gritted his teeth. You'll pay dearly for this.
The man redirected his gun at Brandon. A bullet ripped through the air and ricocheted off his head, leaving nothing but a burning sensation. Another shot came, but this time, it struck his stomach. It didn't hurt, though.
All of a sudden, Mika spoke amidst her sobs, "Y-you can't kill him that way. O-only a point-blank bullet to the head can harm him."
"Oh, really." With a wolfish grin and Mika still in his grip, the man approached Brandon. "Heh, I can't believe that your own kid betrayed you." He took aim.
She fooled you. Smiling, Brandon snatched the D-Point and put a bullet through the man's head.
With the man down, Mika rushed towards Brandon and hugged him. "I'm so scared!" she cried.
"You stay behind me." Brandon whirled. Casting a fierce glare at the half-conscious attackers, he pointed the gun at them. You'd better know what you've gotten yourselves into. You threatened my child, and I wouldn't let you get away with it.
Gunshots roared, staining the snow red. Brandon knew it was cruel, but that was just his way of life.
Note:
1. The mobile game Plants vs Zombies makes a cameo here.
2. For Trigun-blind readers, Vash's species is called a plant.
3. For Gungrave-blind readers, necrolyzer is the universe's term for zombies.