Note: I am not completely sure of whether Meryl uses the single shot derringer, or the more recent Remington sort of model with two shots. I simply can't remember, but for this story's purposes, she's got the two shot deals.
I promised a faster update than the last one, and well, heh it was, although I admit it was still a pretty long wait. The dreaded writers block has plagued the ending of this story for the longest time now.
Ready for a long one?
Warnings: Violence and language. (Hey, lots of Wolfwood this chapter, what do you expect?)
Chapter 9: The Final Confrontation
The person that loses their conscience has nothing left worth keeping.
- Izaak Walton
Wolfwood took and deep breath of the dry night air, drew one of his guns, hoisted the cross a little higher, and tried to think. He'd never been much of a tactician in these sorts of situations; his gut instinct always seemed to work just fine, so he figured why try to fight nature now?
Somewhat comforted by the feel of cold steel in his hand, the man in black knelt down on one leg; peered around the side of the building and opened fire on the approaching dune buggies. In a gesture, he hoped, that would convey he wasn't going to back down so easily. One of the two dune buggies swerved a bit, the driver obviously caught off guard that someone was actually shooting back at them. The two vehicles slowed to a stop a respectable distance from the building.
The vehicles kicked up a cloud of dust and sand as they ground to a halt. And through that cloud, Wolfwood heard a laugh he remembered. That lame brained gang leader. That laugh irked him in just all the wrong ways. As Wolfwood had said, his plans did not involve dying for Vash tonight and he intended to keep that promise, by any means necessary.
With a smile that would send a shiver down the devil's spine, Wolfwood stood and walked into plain view.
Even that noodle noggin, Vash, would have to admit, this was a no holds bar fight.
When the dust finally settled, Big Jim and his gang were surprised, to say the least, to see the preacher standing in plain sight, in front of the door to the Plant. The preacher stood there with a calm look on his face and that big cross of his hefted on his shoulder.
"Well look at this boys," Big Jim laughed, "we got ourselves a lively one!"
The rest of the boys snickered at their leaders words.
"Where's your friend? He go cower inside to leave his wounded lapdog out here all alone? That fella' sure does like to run, don't he?"
At this the rest of the gang broke into laughter.
"Cat got your tongue preacher man? Or do you need to be told when to bark too?"
More laughing.
"Or perhaps that's how the famous Humanoid Typhoon makes it out of so many scraps, by sacrificing someone at each turn?"
Wolfwood simply smirked and waited for the laughing to die down.
"Actually," Wolfwood began, "I know how much you pudden-head types like to pump your egos up before you find out you can't measure up. And that if I interrupted you, this could take all night. Honestly, it's been a helluva day and I can think of far more pleasant company to spend my time with. So do you think we could get on with it?"
Big Jim kept the sense of mind not to let his jaw hit the ground as the rest of the boys just gawked. Everything under the moon's rays was bathed in a cool blue hue giving the landscape an almost surreal look. But Wolfwood was pretty sure he saw an interesting red tint on the face of the gang leader.
Yep, Wolfwood thought, a jab at the pride always does it.
"Get 'em!" Big Jim's voice suddenly split the air.
"Here we go," Wolfwood said to himself.
The dune buggies kicked up sand as the drivers slammed on the gas.
With an eerily calm look, Wolfwood stood his ground. The preacher brought his free hand up to grab hold of the white cloth surrounding the cross.
"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do…" Wolfwood said as he ripped the cloth from the cross.
The man in black flipped the gun into position and dropped to one knee.
"… do it with thy might!"
Wolfwood opened fire on the rapidly approaching buggies.
He gave a lopsided grin when the vehicles tried to scatter suddenly. Wolfwood kept firing at the one holding the gang leader. The buggy lurched suddenly as one of its tires blew out and it veered to the far left colliding with the other vehicle.
Damn, Wolfwood thought, as the two buggies became interlocked together still heading straight for where he was standing.
"Damn!" he cursed as he realized the flaw in this plan, the vehicles weren't slowing down.
There wasn't much time to react, so Wolfwood let go of the cross and sprung to the right in an attempt to not get smashed. At the last moment one of the vehicles jerked away from the damaged one and made a sharp turn trying to clear the building directly in front of it. Wolfwood heard the driver shriek and turned in time to see the buggy turn and spin out of control towards him. The preacher promptly joined in the shrieking and went into a headlong role out of the way.
The damaged vehicle holding the gang leader ran headlong at full speed into the building right next to the door. It hit with a metallic boom, splintering pieces of the wall, and throwing its occupants clear from the buggy.
Wolfwood managed to just clear the spinning buggy and winced as he came to a halt on the ground. The movement of rolling around on his wound made stars appear before his eyes and he shook his head to clear it.
The man in black pushed himself up to his hands and knees with a grimace and turned his head to look at where the buggy hit the wall. Vash will have heard that, he thought to himself and hoped the man would, for once, just do what he needed to do and let him take care of the rest. His wound throbbed painfully again and he wondered if he tore it open. Of course, Wolfwood thought with a side-glance at the unscathed buggy and the other gang members finally starting to get over their shock, perhaps I could use the help. Though he'd never admit that to anyone out loud. Ever.
The buggy's occupants finally became aware of Wolfwood looking at them and he saw matching glares break out on all their faces. The preacher gave a slight nervous laugh, then scrambled to his feet. He sprinted to the Cross Punisher and half slid, knelt next to it long enough to draw two guns from it, while bullets whizzed by him. Nimble as a cat Wolfwood jumped to his feet and on instinct went for cover behind the crashed dune buggy. He stepped on the head of the driver, who was just beginning to come back to his senses, and drove his head down into the sand. Wolfwood ducked through the carriage to get to the other side. Once on the other side he knelt down with his back to the cart and took a steadying breath.
"Hurry the hell up Vash," the man in black mumbled to himself.
In one fluid motion, Wolfwood turned to face the other gang members and opened fire through the buggy's carriage. His shots had the desired effect and the men went scrambling for cover behind their own vehicle and around the side of the building where Wolfwood had first taken cover.
"Forget somethin'?" asked a menacing voice behind the preacher, close enough to raise the hairs on the back of his head.
Badguys - 2: Instincts - 0. Tonight just wasn't Wolfwood's night.
"Shit," he muttered.
Before the preacher could react something viselike clamped onto both wrists and all but shook the guns out of his hands. Still holding the smaller man's wrists Big Jim wrapped his arms around Wolfwood's entire upper body effectively pinning his arms to his side. Wolfwood tried to break the hold and snake out of it, but he couldn't move. Somewhere in the back of Wolfwood's mind, he reminded himself to be impressed. He knew he was by far a weakling, yet he couldn't budge for the life of him. And unfortunately for him, that's exactly what was at stake. The larger gang member heaved Wolfwood clear off his feet and tightened his hold crushing the smaller man. The preacher couldn't control the strangled cry he gave at all the pressure being applied to his wounded shoulder and for the second time that night, he saw stars.
All the air was crushed out of the priest's lungs and he couldn't get the gang leader's grip loose enough to draw in any much needed air. Wolfwood felt his eyes becoming heavy.
Even through Wolfwood's foggy brain, a woman's voice cut through the mist clear as a bell.
"Put him down! Now!"
Followed by what sounded like a gunshot, though it was much higher and softer than it should have been. Whatever it was though, it worked and suddenly all the pressure was gone and Wolfwood hit the ground with a "humph." The preacher took in deep refreshing breaths. It took a moment before he could look up to see who his savior was. He saw Big Jim still clutching a bleeding calf and Meryl and Millie standing defiantly nearby. Meryl was standing there with both hands on one of her derringers. She shot him in the leg, Wolfwood mused as he fought to keep from smiling.
"That wasn't very nice!" Millie said in her condescending way, as she whipped out her stun-gun from somewhere in the folds of her coat.
Millie's shot caught the gang leader square in the chest and knocked him into the Plant wall next to the dune buggy, where he landed with a thud and didn't move.
Wolfwood was still sitting in the sand with the hand of his good arm holding his wounded shoulder. Tired, shot, all but beaten up, and exhausted, all Wolfwood really wanted to do was collapse to the cool night sand and sleep until next week, but he reminded himself, they didn't have time for that. The Insurance girls were jogging over to him looking concerned and he could see the questions coming.
"Mr. Priest are you…"
"Mr. Wolfwood what ha…"
"Later," was all the preacher said as he cut the girls off.
He grabbed one of Meryl and Millie's wrists and, with a small squeal from each girl, clumsily pulled them down as bullets once again hailed by them.
"And stay down!" he warned them.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Wolfwood saw the driver on the other side of the buggy starting to rise from the sand again. He picked up a block from the broken wall and chucked it at the guy. The piece hit the man right in the side of the head and he dropped back to the sand.
"That means you too!" Wolfwood yelled testily.
He winced from the movement and clutched his shoulder briefly, but before either of the girls could say anything, Wolfwood was already retrieving his forgotten guns from the ground.
"What are we going to do Mr. Wolfwood?" Meryl asked quietly.
What were they going to do? Wolfwood wondered. He didn't know how long Vash would take. He didn't even have an earthly clue what he was doing for that matter. For once, Wolfwood didn't know what they were going to do. Before he could think too long on it, Millie was pointing back toward May City.
"Maybe they can help?" she asked excitedly.
The preacher followed Millie's line of view back to a dust cloud steadily making its way towards the Plant.
"Maybe it's the Sheriff?" Meryl asked hopefully.
Wolfwood didn't answer right away. He just watched the group of people for a moment. No, they looked too unorganized, and traveling way too fast to be the Sheriff's posse. Plus, there weren't enough of them.
Wolfwood gave a tired sigh and the two girls looked at him with a mixture of hope and fear.
"For once I wouldn't mind seeing a Sheriff, hell, it might even be a blessing to get arrested right now and put in a nice quiet jail cell, but that's not him."
Wolfwood shot a few rounds back at the gang to pin them down and let them know he was still paying attention, then motioned for the girls to follow him.
"How do you know it's not him?" Meryl asked.
"Experience, now get a move on it! And stay low!"
Wolfwood began to make his way to the opposite side of the building, using the buggy as cover. Meryl still looked unsure, but she and Millie followed Wolfwood anyway. Once they were all around the side of the building Wolfwood returned fire once again, then turned to face the girls.
"When that group of people gets here, stay back here and out of sight. Got that? What ever you do, don't come out!"
It usually didn't set well with Meryl when she was ordered around by someone she considered far less responsible than her. But just as Vash had those times when his voice and demeanor left no room for argument, the priest had his moments as well, and this was one of them. All she could do was nod her understanding.
"Meryl, keep firing back at that gang. Hopefully they won't spot the new group until it's too late."
"Okay," she responded quietly.
Wolfwood nodded then turned away from them and started to follow the wall back towards the rear of the building.
"Wait!" Millie called, "where are you going?"
Wolfwood flashed Millie one of his carefree smiles.
"Oh you know me, I always tend to turn up where needed, don't I?"
And with that the man in black disappeared into the darkness.
Meryl could see the new group of people getting fairly close now as she fired a few shots off at the gang members. She didn't know who they were, but Wolfwood seemed to think them a threat, and that made her all the more nervous. Her hands shook slightly as she fired her derringer and she could all but feel Millie shaking, kneeling down directly behind her. It didn't really matter. She didn't have to be too accurate. She was doing what Wolfwood wanted, firing back just enough to keep the other men in hiding. To delay their stand off until the new group arrived.
They were so close now she could make out that there were at least thirteen of them riding thomas'. So many, she thought to herself as she fired another shot, only to receive an empty click. Meryl discarded that derringer and drew another. With a shaky breath Meryl realized she was down to two guns left. Four shots. Four shots and that was it.
"This is it Millie," she said indicating the two guns.
For her part, Millie said nothing; she just gave Meryl an understanding nod. The larger girl gripped the handle of her stun gun tighter. The group was closing in now; they would be on top of the gang in moments, so Meryl decided to conserve her precious few shots and held her fire. Her and Millie fell back into the shadows a little more and peered cautiously around the edge of the building.
Wolfwood ran around the back of the Plant and back up to the side where he had first taken cover, and where there were currently two gang members finding cover. Wolfwood took a deep breath and worked on calming his breathing. The stupid building was larger than it looked and it took longer to run around than he thought. The run made his wound and lungs ache painfully. After calming his yammering heart and breathing somewhat, the preacher crouched down and picked his way toward the two gang members as quietly as possible. Meryl was apparently doing as he asked because everyone was focused on the far side of the structure.
Wolfwood lifted one of his guns up and took aim for the man farthest in the shadows and closest to him. The man's head was clearly visible and Wolfwood started to pull the trigger… and hesitated. Stupid, what are you doing? Just do it! Wolfwood even tried to curse at himself and his face scrunched up in the most annoyed look he was sure he'd ever given a living soul. But he just couldn't do it. Something he would have never had a problem with before.
"Damn you, Vash," he mumbled under his breath and tightened his hold on the gun.
Wolfwood brought the gun to bear and slammed it into the side of the man's head, making his head bounce off the wall. The man dropped like a rag doll. The second man, noticing his companion drop turned to face Wolfwood and received a fist in the mouth. Before the man recovered he brought the handle of the gun down on his head as well.
Wolfwood looked down at the two unconscious, and still very much alive men, and sighed. Mercy was a strength for some, but the priest was pretty sure it was going to get him killed one day. It didn't belong in his world.
Turning his sights back out to the open, Wolfwood noticed the driver he clocked in the head had finally joined his companions, and the three remaining gang members were huddle behind the dune buggy. By this time though, the new group was just arriving and Wolfwood sunk farther into the shadow of the building to watch the scene unfold and hoped the girls would listen to his first instruction, and stay put.
Vash brought his hands up in a non-threatening nature and saw that the bounty hunter's hand was resting inches away from his gun. Vash guessed that after the incident at the restaurant, Big Jim figured he could get Vash to cooperate more by threatening someone else's life. So the gang leader kept his gun leveled steadily at Drake.
"You can't fire that in here, you buffoon," Drake scolded, "you haven't got the eye for it. Do you want to black out the entire city?"
Big Jim laughed.
"Don't much care about the city. I figure I can get my reward anywhere."
Vash's sharp eyes came to rest on a bruise on one of the large man's arms that was very familiar.
"I see you must have met Millie. Sweet girl, isn't she?" Vash asked in a carefree manner.
"So that's the big one's name, uh? Yeah, we met alright. I also met your preacher up close and personal as well. Can't say he was too happy to see me though."
Vash's eyes hardened a few notches at the implied hurt of his friend, but he managed to keep his cool and his demeanor seemingly non-threatening. Decades of practice and seeing friends hurt gave Vash amazing control over his outward emotions. A feat that did not go unnoticed by the brown clad man.
"But enough about them, my boys'll take care of them real soon. Worry about your own skin, Vash the Stampede."
"I don't know if you've noticed," Vash began in the most innocent voice he could muster, "but if you're after me, you're pointing the gun at the wrong man."
"Oh, I don't think so. See this time, I'm not giving you any escape dog. Your preacher ain't here to throw no tables, and he couldn't block my path here, now could he?" Big Jim laughed.
"The question is, will this doggie jump for you too? Maybe he will, maybe he won't," the man said with a shrug, "but the one thing I do know, is I haven't seen you display the brass needed to attack someone first."
Vash glanced up at Drake and caught the man's eye. The bounty hunter flicked his eyes down at Big Jim in the briefest gesture. Vash gave no indication whether he understood or not, but his sharp eyes saw the bounty hunter tense ever so slightly. Boy did he hope he was interpreting that look correctly. If not, someone was about to get shot.
"You're right," Vash said calmly, "I am a pacifist. No one has the right to take the life of another. I live by that belief."
Vash finished with a slight look up at the bounty hunter, to try and make his words sink in for a little talk he knew he was going to have to have with Drake later. If there was a later, he thought with a gulp.
"But you shouldn't mistake mercy for cowardliness," Vash said in an eerily cold voice, "and don't think I won't strike first if it means saving someone's life."
Big Jim tensed at those words and brought his gun to bear on Vash. Just what the gunman was waiting for. Vash sprung forward and out of instinct the gang leader fired his gun almost point blank at the blonde man. His biggest surprise that night came when he missed the outlaw. That was impossible. No one could miss at that range! He never had time to ponder the issue longer as Vash was suddenly directly in front of him. Fierce, unnatural eyes blazed back at the gang leader.
In one swift movement, Vash grabbed a hold of the gun barrel with one hand and jerked the top of the barrel right off, effectively dismantling the gun, and brought his other hand up, open palmed, to smash into the gang leader's jaw.
Big Jim stumbled back a step and before he knew it the wind was knocked out of him as Drake swung down from the catwalk to slam both feet into the large man's stomach. As the large man hit the floor Drake pulled his second gun and aimed it straight at the gang leader's head.
Big Jim froze as the barrel of a sawed off shotgun came into focus right between his eyes. He looked down at the useless gun in his hands then dropped it. He looked up at Vash with something akin to fear in his eyes.
"What the devil? Impossible! You were right in front of me. No man is that quick! What the hell are you?"
"Yes, well," Drake said cocking his gun for emphases, "I'm right in front of you now. And if you so much as breath too loud I swear I'll open a third eye for you."
Drake gave Vash an unsure side-glance before turning his attention back to the gang leader.
"Didn't you have something to do? Just remember, I'm not through with you yet, Vash the Stampede. And if you don't return like you promised, I promise you this, the world won't be big enough to hide from me."
"I understand," Vash said matter of fact.
Vash made it to the door of the Plant before Drake called out his name. The gunman paused, but didn't turn around to face the bounty hunter. When Drake spoke, he still didn't turn around, keeping his attention focused on his new target.
"That thing with the gun you just did… back in the alleyway, you were close enough to disarm me, weren't you?"
Vash smiled even though he knew the bounty hunter couldn't see him.
"Didn't see a need to," was all Vash answered.
Vash grabbed the door handle as the lights shut off and the unsettling electrical moan resounded around the room. The blonde had to grip the side of the door to find the strength to keep upright.
"Hang on, I'm coming," he whispered into the blackness.
It took several moments this time before the lights came back on, as the world seemed to hold it's breath.
As soon as they flicked on, Vash took off with all the speed he possessed. Unbeknownst to him, Big Jim used that momentary distraction to knock the gun out of his captor's hand. He rose to his feet with a feral look in his eyes and a cocky grin. That look didn't seem to bother the brown clad man though.
"Think you might be getting a little old for bounty hunting, old man? Reflexes ain't what they used to be?" Big Jim snickered as he circled his prey.
"Do you think I reached my age in this profession without having to deal with a few meddlesome flies in the ointment?"
It didn't take long before the superiorly large group of fortune seekers had the remaining gang members hog-tied.
"So this is where he's at?" one man asked.
"Apparently," another answered.
"Well let's go get 'em!"
The group gave a collective yeah at that.
"And we'll hog tie that slippery devil this time!" someone shouted.
Another collective "yeah!"
"He won't get away this time!"
Meryl and Millie watched the group pump themselves up for their little adventure after the famous outlaw. They seemed to get more excited about it with each shouted phrase until Meryl wasn't so sure they planned to just capture Vash.
"Vash," she mouthed the word.
"No one enters our town and starts trouble!"
"Yeah!"
"Vash," she whispered this time.
Mr. Wolfwood had told them to stay put. The boys meant it when they used that tone. And generally, it was when something serious was happening.
"We'll show him!"
"Yeah!"
"Vash," she said out loud.
"We demand justice! He deserves to pay!"
"Yeah!"
"Vash," Meryl practically cried out.
Vash was sick and he was all alone inside. Wolfwood was hurt. There was no one else left to save them this time.
Wolfwood was listening from the other side of the building from Meryl and Millie. His arm was stiffening up again, so much so that he couldn't even grip his gun with that hand, so he tucked that one into his belt behind his back. The preacher was finding it hard to keep his cool also, but he assured himself, there wasn't much they could do. In his sorry state he had had trouble taking on the smaller gang, something that shouldn't have happened. And he was sure Meryl had to be running low on ammo, if she wasn't out already.
"Stay put girls, stay put," he whispered to himself.
The most they could hope for was to somehow attack and distract the group from the rear once the crowd found Vash. Assuming his moron of a companion was in running condition. There was a lot of if's there, too many for his liking.
But he definitely knew to stand right in the path of a fired up lynch mob was one of the worst ideas possible…
"Oh hell," Wolfwood finished out loud.
"No!" Meryl yelled as she sprang from around the side of the building.
"Meryl!" Millie cried to her as she followed the smaller woman out to the open.
Meryl came to stand right in front of the door and spread her hands and feet out in a blocking gesture. Millie didn't look so sure of this idea, but she followed her friend, stopped behind Meryl, and took up the same defiant stance.
"I can't let you go in there," Meryl exclaimed.
"Right!" Millie shouted.
It took a moment for the stunned group to gather it's wits before one of them spoke up.
"Why not?"
"Because," Meryl began, "I'm from the Bernardelli Insurance Agency and we will not cover damages done by crowds having anything to do with Vash the Stampede. If you know it's him, and you participate in something that results in the destruction of property, we have the right to not pay the coverage."
"Right!" Millie seconded.
"Are you serious?" someone asked.
"I'm very serious. This is a very serious matter, do you want something to happen to your Plant, your lively hood, and not be able to fix it? How would you feel then?"
"Right!" Millie nodded.
Meryl gave Millie a backwards glance and the larger woman gave Meryl a sheepish look.
"All right little girls, play times over. The men have some serious business to take of," said the same man.
At this the crowd broke into laughter and a few of the men advanced on the Insurance girls determined to remove them from the path.
"I believe," Wolfwood said over the laughing, "that the ladies said you can't go through that door."
Meryl had never thought she could be so glad to see Wolfwood. The priest walked calmly up to and in front of the girls, so that Meryl had to peer around the side of the preacher to see what was going on. Millie, being much taller, looked over Wolfwood's shoulder.
"And who the hell are you?"
"Me?" Wolfwood smiled.
"Why I'm just a humble servant of God," he answered bringing one hand to his chest, and the other in the air in a holy manner.
"Out of the way priest, unless you want us to move you out of the way!"
"That man in there hasn't done anything to you!" Meryl cried around Wolfwood, "If you hadn't of come after him in the first place, none of that trouble in your town would have happened!"
Wolfwood clenched his jaw and fought the urge not to tell the girl to shut up.
"So you know Vash the Stampede? His girlfriend, perhaps?" an older man asked.
Damn, Wolfwood thought, for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. I can't believe I'm doing this, he thought. We've all gone crazy, we have to be insane to block this mob! Damnit Vash, the hell are you?! We're all going to die defending this door!
The group seemed to take a collective step towards Wolfwood, and the girls behind him.
"Uhh, eh… g-g-girlfriend?" Meryl stammered pointing toward herself.
Wolfwood put his arms out slightly in a defensive gesture to protect the girls behind him as the crowd was suddenly very close. Meryl and Millie huddled closer behind Wolfwood, they're only shield from the seemingly hostile men closing in.
"Now hang on fellas, this one's always been lippy, but that doesn't make her his girlfriend. Besides, using a woman as bait is just plain bad taste."
"I thought I told you to move out of the way preacher."
"The Lord teachers us to 'do unto others what you would have them do unto you.' You wouldn't do this to your mother, would you?"
For Meryl and Millie, the next few seconds seemed to slow down to a crawl.
"Hey preacher!" someone yelled from the back of the group, "teach this."
A single shot cracked like thunder in the Insurance girl's ears.
Meryl's brain couldn't keep up with what was happening, but she saw the bullet, as in slow motion, catch Wolfwood square in the heart. Millie watched transfixed, as she saw the bullet hit Nick in the heart, she could have sworn her heart stopped beating.
Meryl wasn't aware she had screamed, but she heard her and Millie's terrified voices cry out.
The impact knocked the preacher backwards and he collided with Meryl before bouncing off to fall face first towards the ground. Meryl tried to grab hold of Wolfwood and break his fall, something, but his greater weight pulled her forward and the most she could do was keep from falling on top of him. Millie stood still with a shocked look on her now pale face, as if transfixed.
Nicholas D. Wolfwood fell forward to land face down in the sand amongst the stunned crowd.
TBC…
Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might - Ecclesiastes (ch. IX, v. 10)
Do unto others what you would have them do unto you - Matthew 7:120