Vash the Stampede & Chronica belong to the amazingly creative Mr. Yasuhiro Nightow, not me.
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Justice
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Year 1715 month 6 day 5
Nicholas waited impatiently for the signal. He wiggled and flexed his fingers around the grip of his pistol. He wanted to make sure that his fingers weren't cramping up the way it felt like every other part of him was. He resisted another impulse to scratch at the oil and sand mixture that covered his skin and clothing, making him visually blend into the desert.
He glanced across the concealed cave entrance where he waited, to see how Alex was faring. His twin responded with a brief focused burst of sympathy. He wondered if Frank and Chronica were any more comfortable, but he expected that their status was probably identical to his.
He didn't like the plan. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of a better one.
As they'd approached the town suspected of being the home of the malevolent Plant, his Papa had wanted to stop at a cave system outside town to think over a strategy. When they arrived at the cave entrance, however, Chronica informed them that the problematical Plant – along with most of their captured kin – was very near. There were signs of several recent tracks going into and out of the cave.
This meant that instead of storming the town, they would need to storm the caves. Vash had been in the cave system shortly after the Great Fall, and taken shelter there. He knew the area thoroughly, and led them to all of the numerous entrances. Some had been concealed or blocked up. Then they spent a few days watching the crooked leaf people, and planning what to do.
A pair of large trucks with many people packed into the back arrived on the second day. When they overheard them called "new recruits," Rem, Naomi, Lina and Tessla had mingled with them to infiltrate the crooked leaf cult.
The four had managed to be assigned to different areas, so by combining their information it was possible to form a reasonably clear picture. That picture was appalling.
The good news was that the children were physically unharmed. The cultists had deliberately captured thirty sets of twins, and then killed one twin from each set. This was intended to make the survivor more vulnerable to manipulation. Efforts were being made to brainwash the children, but none of the survivors were being harmed yet.
Tessla had been assigned to the children, and was doing her best to protect them without revealing her true intent. Each child was descended from a different brother; one was his own great-great-great granddaughter. The remaining twenty-nine children were the last living legacy of Brad, Livio, Carl, Kaite, Daniel, and most of the other brothers who'd been slain on the day of the massacre. This made the children doubly precious.
Rem had been assigned to the cavern where William, Tonis and Jared were kept. They were sedated and unconscious, though otherwise unharmed. She learned that the plan was to use them as a "stud farm" to produce pure and half-blood Plant children with Kamila and her followers. Rem was livid: she'd barely managed to exercise enough restraint to avoid blowing her own cover.
Rem had successfully managed a "moment of clumsiness" that delayed the start of using the breeding area. So far, no women in Kamila's service were yet coming to impregnate themselves on her brothers, biological or adopted. The revised date for that process to begin had prompted tonight becoming the chosen time to act.
Lina had been assigned to the kitchens, and she was doing her best to quietly keep drugs out of the meals being distributed. Drugging meals seemed to be a trend, especially for the children whose minds they hoped to remold to reflect their own philosophies.
Naomi had the most dangerous position. She had been assigned as a handmaid to Kamila, the female independent Plant who was the root of this crooked leaf problem. Naomi would only report when she was certain that Kamila was sound asleep, and everyone else reported after her. Thus, they all avoided detection.
Naomi's reports, and her position, had helped their father to form the current plan.
Nicholas hated the plan. Vash was putting himself at extreme risk, in the hope of protecting others. Alex had offered to go in his father's place, but Vash wouldn't allow it.
Vash had gone in at dusk, alone, without his prosthetic arm. He was making an appearance of attacking in search of the children. He would send a signal when he was in the same room as Kamila, and Naomi was also present to assist.
That's when he and Alex from this side, and Frank and Chronica from the other side, would begin attacking. Rem would release their three brothers caged in the breeding area. Lina and Tessla would begin leading the children toward a designated meeting point.
Naomi would protect their father, as best she could. From Naomi's reports, they knew Kamila planned to cage Vash, and gloat and show off in front of him a little, before attempting seduction (or worse). They planned on that gloating time becoming their window of opportunity to attack.
Nicholas particularly disliked how that meant his father would be naked and either tied or caged... completely helpless, in the presence of a vicious enemy. He had protested this part, to his father's face. Vash had laid a hand on his shoulder.
"It wouldn't be the first time that happened to me, Nicholas," he'd said softly. "It is unpleasant, I can't deny that. But if it saves lives, then it is worth the trouble."
His only comfort was that Naomi would be there. He knew that she would fight to the death before allowing anything worse than embarrassment – which was, unfortunately, inherently built into the plan – to happen to their father.
He wondered and worried about how far they would get with the attack, before the mind battle began.
...
At last, the signal came.
He refused to think of what Kamila might be trying to do to his father. He needed to focus on disabling her followers, and rescuing all of his other surviving family members that were in her people's clutches.
He led Alex through the cleverly concealed cave opening, and began firing to disable each of Kamila's servants that he saw. He heard Alex's gun also firing, and knew that his gentler brother would ache over each injury he caused... but he also understood the need, and did what had to be done without hesitation.
He hoped that Frank and Chronica were having no difficulties as he shot the last one standing in the first cavern, and ran for the entrance to the next.
...
Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the designated meeting point. There were Lina and Tessla, with all thirty children. Frank and Chronica reached the room at the same time as he and Alex did.
They'd caused cave-ins to numerous side tunnels, which would block most efforts of other crooked leaf people to reach the place where they were. A clear path of escape to the truck should remain open.
He sent Tessla and Alex to take the children toward the truck. He knew they would prefer not to have to injure any more people. Since the children still needed someone to help them, those two were the best choices.
He looked at Lina, Frank and Chronica. "Rem's late," he said needlessly. "She may not have been able to wake our brothers, and three is too many for one person to carry alone."
Lina nodded. "Let's go," she said.
Thanks to their father's hastily drawn maps, and Rem's detailed reports, they knew exactly where to look. Sure enough, they found Rem in a corner with her wings extended, standing over their three unconscious brothers and fighting off a few of the crooked leaf people.
A handful of gunshots disabled Rem's opponents, and Frank and Lina joined her.
"Get them out of here," Nicholas said. "We'll go look for Papa and Naomi."
"Right," Frank said. "Be careful."
"Always," Nicholas said, smiling tightly.
Papa and Naomi must be keeping Kamila occupied. So far, there was no sign of mental resistance. However, that was likely to change any second...
...
The route to Kamila's chambers was more convoluted than expected. Several tunnels had been completely blocked. The need to back up and try alternate routes had consumed time. He hated every wasted second.
However, the way the twisted Plant had insulated herself from the bulk of the cave system had possibly prevented her from being aware that her people were under attack. Nicholas was surprised that he did not yet sense any mental attack. He knew that situation could not last much longer.
"In case you wondered," Chronica said in a matter-of-fact tone as they hurried toward Kamila's chambers, "I plan to kill her. Please, don't try to stop me. Knives killed after he was captured and incarcerated. I won't give Kamila any chance to do the same."
Nicholas stopped in his tracks, and turned to stare at her for a moment. He was torn... Kamila had ordered his wife's death. She had also caused the deaths of his sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great-great grandchildren... These deaths, and more, were also hurting his papa. Yet his papa would not have her killed.
He could not disagree with Chronica's assessment. Kamila was likely to do more harm if she lived. However, he wasn't sure if he could support anyone killing another... even when that other was Kamila. He'd been taught that "No one has the right to take the life of another" by his father and Grandma Rem.
His mother, though, she would occasionally say that sometimes there was no alternative. Sometimes a person was so thoroughly determined to harm others that the only way to stop them from killing was to stop them from breathing. It should only be a last resort, after all else had been tried... but sometimes, sadly, there was no other solution that protected the intended victims.
Chronica stood there, steadily looking into his face, awaiting his reply.
His mother was one of Kamila's victims.
"My first worry is Papa," he said grimly. "I'll look after him first. If you want to tend her..." he shrugged. "Do what you think best," he said finally. He couldn't bring himself to encourage her, but he couldn't bring himself to discourage killing Kamila, either.
"Thank you," she said. "Let's get this over with."
Nicholas nodded, and began running in the direction of Kamila's inner chambers again.
...
Chronica laid a hand on his shoulder as they approached an archway into another area. They could hear music coming through the opening. She placed one finger over her mouth, and then made a sign for wings.
He already had his wings on automatic defense, since some of Kamila's followers threw knives with enough skill to make them nearly as dangerous as bullets. He guessed she meant that they'd reached their destination. He frowned slightly.
She again put one finger over her mouth, as she slowly raised her gun. Then she flattened herself against the wall, beside the arch. She gestured for him to pass through first.
He raised his own gun, and nodded. He stepped against the wall and stood between Chronica and the arch. He carefully tried to peer through the opening without being seen.
He saw a handful of thoroughly blindfolded musicians. He saw four scantily-clad girls, and realized with a start that one was his sister Naomi. Then he saw a cage suspended from the ceiling by the foot of an excessively elaborate bed. On the floor of the cage, his father sat clutching his knees against his chest. As expected, all of his clothing had been removed.
Kamila had her wings out, possibly the message Chronica had been attempting to convey. At least that made it plain who his enemy was. She was dressed very similarly to her handmaids, but with richer fabrics and more jewels. She was prodding his father through the cage bars with a rod, and commanding him to stand.
She did a hand gesture that made his father jerk, and then tremble. But he didn't stand.
Nicholas could see numerous bruises, suggesting she'd been poking at his father for some time. Vash was trembling with increasing violence, but he continued holding his legs tightly against his body, covering his chest and groin with them.
Enough was enough! Nicholas stepped into the room, his gun aimed at Kamila. "Stop it!" he said.
Suddenly his gun fell from his hands, because both hands opened of their own accord. Searing pain coursed through every part of his body, which caused his knees to buckle.
He caught himself on his hands, just before his face would have hit the floor. That movement had been sluggish and awkward. It felt as if he were underground, and had to move through sand instead of air.
The mind battle was engaged. He concentrated, fighting to reclaim control over his own body.
Kamila turned and smiled. "What is this?" she said. "Ah, Nicholas. You escaped my purge, just to come here?" Her voice dripped sarcasm. "How sweet of you. I had no idea that you would come and offer yourself to me this way."
The pain stopped, and he gasped. She extended her empty hand, and his body stood to its feet. He could no longer move his limbs; even breathing became difficult. She gestured slightly, and his shirt and upper-body armor came apart at the seams. The pieces of fabric and leather fell to the floor.
Kamila looked surprised. "Interesting," she said. "Your face is so different... I had not expected your body to be so much the same. I wonder how far that resemblance continues..." she looked as if she planned to move her hand again.
He deliberately avoided looking toward Naomi. He would not betray her, nor risk calling attention to anything she might be attempting to do. Instead, he glared at Kamila. "What's the matter?" he taunted. "Can't find a willing male, so you have cage men, or hold them down, to get any who will keep you company?"
That earned him another round of searing pain, but this time her control held him upright.
"Bad manners will be punished," she hissed.
He continued glaring at her, carefully ignoring the movement he saw from the corner of his eye. Naomi's bare feet were silent on the cave floor as she slowly moved closer to a position from which she could successfully attack Kamila. He couldn't tell if she had a weapon without looking, and he dared not look.
"My manners can scarcely be any worse than yours," Nicholas said, borrowing his father's tactic of keeping attention focused on himself.
"If you think you can defy me," she said, clenching her fist and increasing the pain, "you're sadly mistaken." She smiled a predatory smile that made Nicholas' blood run cold.
Suddenly a gunshot echoed through the cavern. A red spot appeared in the center of Kamila's forehead. Her eyes rolled up and she fell down.
"Priestess!" her loyal handmaids called, and they pulled daggers from sheathes on their legs. They rushed forward from their positions near the bed. Chronica shot them, also. Two fell on the bed, and bled profusely. The third fell onto the only rug on the floor.
The blindfolded musicians fled, abandoning their instruments.
Nicholas crumpled to the floor, gasping. He reached for his pistol, and put it back into its holster. He was shaking too hard to attempt anything else immediately.
Naomi went to Kamila's corpse and pulled the key to their father's cage from a chain around the corpse's waist. She went to a series of levers, and worked with them. That slowly lowered the cage containing their father to the ground. She unlocked it and began checking their father's health, without moving him.
"You took your time," Nicholas complained, when he felt Chronica's presence beside him.
"Had I attempted to shoot sooner, she might have noticed me," Chronica replied coolly. "She had to be completely focused on someone else before it would work. I wasn't sure how much more your father could take, so I waited until she was completely focused on you."
Well, he couldn't argue against her strategy, even though he wanted to. It had been effective.
(Are you all right?) Naomi thought.
(Not yet, but I will be,) he decided. (How's Papa?)
(Bruised, embarrassed, and briefly unconscious from the pain,) she answered. (I'm not detecting any internal injuries. He will be ok, in time.)
Naomi was quickly wielding her dagger to make strips of cloth, and bandaging the injuries of the handmaids. Then she started looking around for fabric that wasn't drenched with blood. The stench was nauseating.
He wouldn't want to wear bloodied cloth. He expected that their father wouldn't want to, either.
"As soon as we get away from here, we should send word to Sheriff Central and to the nearest medical center," Naomi said. "That way, the survivors can all be appropriately tended. Even if they're not injured, they should at least be watched for awhile. They will need help to get past the brainwashing that happens here. Most of them truly believed Kamila was some sort of divine priestess who could teach them how to make a better world."
"Sounds like a good plan to me," Nicholas said. He shook his head sadly, thinking of the minds that Kamila had injured with her teachings.
Naomi took possession of the only two pieces of un-bloodied cloth available. She gently wakened their father and helped him to his feet, while holding a few yarz of cloth in front of him.
She had cut a hole in the center of a longish strip of cloth. She put it over his head, and encouraged the lengths to cover his front and back. The cloth hung to about his knees. She'd also claimed the cords that had tied the curtains in place, and wrapped one around their father's waist. He was no longer naked, though the makeshift garment did leave most of his sides uncovered, from underarm to hem.
She quickly dressed herself identically in the other curtain, over her scanty "handmaiden" attire. Nicholas had never before thought about his sister's figure. After seeing her body so nearly revealed, he imagined that Frank was going to be a very happy husband.
Now, if they could only get safely outside and into their vehicles...
...
The cool night winds felt wonderful on his face and skin. He was finally out of that terrible sweltering place, and the free-moving air whispered that truth in a way that felt almost like a song. They had about half a mile to walk to reach their vehicles. Alex and a few of the littlest children, who had probably needed to rest their weary little feet, were waiting to greet them.
Alex quietly removed his own jacket, and offered it. Nicholas accepted.
As they began walking, Nicholas accidentally noticed something. The makeshift clothing Naomi had fashioned for herself and for their father was inadequate against the night winds of the open desert. They were better than nothing, but more was needed both for modesty and for warmth.
The wind sometimes caught the section below the waist, and blew it away from one of their bodies. Naomi's scanty "handmaiden" attire at least included something vaguely resembling underpants. Their father lacked that. With a small girl carried in his arm, and his prosthetic arm still in the truck, Vash currently had no way to hold his makeshift garment together.
Naomi suddenly put down the child she was carrying, and pulled an ornate (but functional) dagger from a sheath tied to her leg. She cut off her own curtain-garment at her knees. She walked over to their father, and was trying to persuade the little girl he carried to let him put her down for a short time. She wanted to tie the extra fabric around his waist in a manner that would partially cover his sides, at least from the waist down.
It took Nicholas a moment to realize why Naomi was suddenly so concerned about their father's modesty. None of the family would even consider peeking; they all respected him far too much. However, one person among them was not family.
Nicholas moved between Chronica and his father, and glared at her.
"There's no harm in looking," Chronica protested, glaring back. After a moment, she sighed and looked away out over the desert. "I was only admiring the view," she said more softly. "I know he'd never want me that close."
"It's still rude," he said, less harshly than he'd originally planned. "He's a lot more than just a gazing-stock."
"I know that," Chronica snapped, her eyes flashing as she turned her face back toward him. She glared at him briefly, before again looking away. "I hope your mother knows just how lucky she is."
"Why do you think she gave her life for him?" Nicholas said tensely. "She knows."
Chronica nodded, but said nothing more. She made no further efforts to look toward his father as they walked. Nicholas stayed near her to be sure of that.
When they reached the vehicles, Frank had already reclaimed the truck's driver's seat. Naomi joined him. Tessla, Vash, and the children climbed into the back.
Nicholas again took his place the driver's seat of the car. Rem, Alex and Lina arranged their three sleepy brothers as comfortably as possible in the back seat. Chronica chose to reclaim her seat beside him, so the others sat in the middle.
It was a long drive back to the Seeds village.