Part VI
The soft touch of fingertips on my shoulder was all I needed to wake me up. It's amazing, what habits you can develop when your life depends on it. The light that filtered through the curtains was cold, and somehow dingy, as though it were marred somehow. The pale shadows cast at different angles across the floor moved slowly as he stepped back, waiting while I pulled on some clothing... casting a last glance at the Cross. It hadn't been long, but already I felt vulnerable without it. My father's store of mercy. Guess he was a real fire and brimstone preacher.
Not for the first time, i found myself wondering about him. I never used to, when I was younger. Now, though, I feel like I'm walking in his footsteps, and it makes me uneasy. I can't follow someone I never knew.
By moonslight I stood, reaching for the serpentine glint of dark metal on the bedside table. I would be without the Cross, but neither Vash nor I was fool enough to go unarmed. A store of the small guns would have to suffice, I supposed. That, and a lot of bullets.
Come and get us, Knives...
The hush descended over the streets was enough to tell us that something was off. A town at night shouldn't be silent; there's always, in a healthy place, a certain amount of background noise. Even if there was no one out, there should be the various cries of playing children, or the sounds of conversation behind the walls. Lights were on, here and there, but they seemed as empty as a candle in a skull's eye socket. It wasn't right. I felt the thrill of excitement mingled with a touch of fear flutter in my throat; the rush of adrenaline tingling, a minor explosion in my brain. If I wasn't ready, I never would be.
By previous arrangement, we split up, stalking through yawning streets. Not a single drunken laugh or forgotten brawl; no illicit activities skulking out of the lamplight. The feeling of wrongness surrounded it all. My fingers curled around the comforting steel hanging at my belt. I wondered if Vash ever felt like this... no, not my uncle. The famous outlaw...
right?
"Well... If it isn't the wolf cub." And the low laugh, the perversion of my uncle's cheerier tones.
We'd thought we'd found him at last. We were wrong. He had found us.
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Thank you to everyone who's reviewed the story; I hope everyone likes it a lot! ^.^ Seeee, I can write serious 'fics, Otaku and Business Meeting notwithstanding. Hah! Mmmn... So, yes. I felt like adding in a random rant here. But now I find I dun have much to say, except thanks for the support and sorry for the shorrrt chapter! Ja ne. ^.^