DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.
Lyrics from "Meet You at the Moon", by Imelda May
Vash stood outside the bunkhouse he was staying the night in, leaning against a post, arms crossed. Couldn't sleep.
He had actually been sound asleep, when he was suddenly jerked awake. Arms straight out – felt like he was holding guns in his hands, even though nothing was there. Fingers pulled nonexistent triggers.
What the hell?
There was nothing there, but it had sure as hell felt like he was aiming and shooting at something.
He had not been able to go back to sleep. Kept trying to figure it out. If that was a dream, it was the strangest one he had ever had.
So now he was out here, looking at the sky. His shoulder burned from the gunshot he had received earlier that day. Nothing major – the bullet went right through, he patched it up himself – but it still hurt. He likely would have some more before this was over.
Things were supposed to be a bit easier than this. He had been promised backup, but the "backup" was a militia of rank amateurs, useless to him. He also wasn't supposed to be fighting an enemy with an actual leadership cadre. The lawyers had led him to believe the situation was similar to Kasted, when Lina had been taken. At best, they had withheld information he needed until it was too late to back out. No wonder Meryl despised lawyers.
There was no sheriffing to be done here, just combat. He had been played from the start. Wouldn't put it past the lawyers and town bosses to have figured out how badly he and Meryl needed the money before they even made the pitch. And if everything hadn't blown up with Meryl, he would have recognized that much money was too good to be true without a hook.
But he was here now. Suckered or not, they still needed the money. For Meryl – for the kind of life he wanted to be able to offer her – he would see this through and get paid.
What he needed for something like this was someone on the level of Wolfwood. What he had was himself. It wasn't impossible, just damn tough. But at least he was making progress.
Since he had arrived in town, he never slept in the same place twice. Always stayed on the move. Made extra sure to stay hidden and only engage on his terms. With no backup he could count on, he was essentially fighting a guerrilla war – shoot and run, try to find the leaders and disable them severely enough to be taken out of play. Rem was wrong in her belief that you absolutely never were right to kill, but he would avoid killing where possible.
The bandits, for their part, had become aware they were under attack. And, given the precision with which their attacker was striking – every shot hit a bad guy in such a way as to take him out of the fight – they were figuring out who they were up against.
That was his ace card – the reputation of Vash the Stampede. With that in play, it shouldn't be much longer until their will was broken – a man who could hit a disabling shot could easily begin making kill shots any time he chose. Either he would be able to take out all the leaders, or the bandits they led would mutiny and flee. Meantime, he just had to stay aware and avoid contact except when he was ready. The key was to stay hidden.
When this was done, he would collect his pay and go home. Go sauntering through the door. Wave a stack of bills at Meryl. Show her he had fixed everything for her. She'd be so proud of him! He grinned as he thought about it.
He had been dumb enough to think when he married Meryl, they would somehow magically live happily ever after. Neither one of them had been ready for the strain of their new existence. But now that they had resolved to fight for each other, they were back on track. He could sense there were still things to work on; but hey, they would work on those things. They would make it so long as they held on to each other.
Somebody had a radio on. Poor noise discipline, but what could you expect? These people weren't soldiers or fighters, just citizens who wanted their town back. He had seen worse lapses in discipline from people who knew better.
"I don't know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up
I'll meet you at the moon…"
What was his Meryl doing right now? Did she know how much he missed her? Did she miss him that much?
He smiled again as he thought about her. Soon, he would be back where he belonged. Home, in her arms.
His ears pricked at the sudden absence of insect noise. The sound of weapons cocking carried. He threw himself down, a shot hitting the post where he had just been, a splinter flying into his neck. Shoulder screamed in protest as he pulled his six-gun and clocked in to earn his pay.
He didn't have time to wonder how they had known where he was.
