Wolfwood:

Sermon Five: Thirty Pieces of Silver

By

C M Forde









The night was cold, but he didn't think about it, it fit the ambience of his intentions anyway, soulless and apart. Frigid to the touch and less than human. They were all gone for the night, some celebration party that he didn't understand or care to. Celebration was no longer in his memory, joy had been burned out of his soul long before the moon had risen this night, the scarred moon that the man in red had marred through his own grace. That moon was a testament to one man's mercy, and another's black heart. He looked down at the slumbering Knives, still unconscious from the battle he fought with his brother so many weeks ago. The man who had brought more pain into the world than even the priest could claim, and still they had forgiven him. That he couldn't understand, he couldn't accept. But the priest had his own mercy to bestow, it came quickly, Knives didn't even have time to scream.



The sun was a hindrance, heat washing over them in waves that drew the moisture from their bodies like a thief without remorse. Sweat soaked brows were washed clean by the wind that tore past their faces, dark sunglasses protecting hidden eyes from the lashing of the sand. "The man in red, Vash the Stampede, we're really going after the Humanoid Typhoon?" Vanessa's arms gripped tightly around his waist as the pushed the motorcycle's engine a little harder, hoping to make the next town by dusk.

"That's what he said." When he opened his mouth it was instantly dried by the dirt that tossed through the air, he could barely breathe. Behind Vanessa was the cross, the cross he had promised to give up after this last mission. The cross that carried more lives upon its history than anyone could imagine; carried more sin on its gleaming surface than any thirty pieces of silver. It was the cross that would haunt him for the rest of his days, one that he knew now he could never give up. "Why, are you worried?"

Vanessa laughed, "Why should I be worried? I've got you with me, you're invincible."

The words stung like embers of a fire that had popped from the earth onto his bare skin. He went to her for warmth, but when he got too close he always found pain. Invincible, how many times had he stepped into the fray, heedless of his life? How many times had he hoped that one of the bullets they fired was meant for him? But it was true, he was invincible. So many had tried, and so many had failed, it made the world itself seem too far gone from him. This was his path in life, to murder unpunished. Or perhaps this man in red would finally send him down into hell, would bring justice to all of the victims the priest had claimed.

"What are you thinking about Nick?" Her voice fought the wind to come to him, and though torn away it still sounded weakly in his ears.

He smiled, "The sixty billion double dollars. Can you imagine what we could do with that kind of money?" He couldn't, the priest was unable to bring himself that far into the world of hope. When they collected the money he would have let Vanessa do with it as she pleased, most likely using it to fix up that orphanage she had established. He had visited once or twice, watching the children play and sometimes joining in, though every face made him think of that child. That child that could have been him. That child that would have killed him had he had the chance, the one that the priest now wished had not missed. But the world was an unforgiving place, and he was an unforgiving man.

"I think I'd buy a sand steamer, that way we won't have to ride around on your crusty old bike anymore."

"Hey, let's stop for a second alright? The man in red would have to wait for a while, there were other things that had to be done as well. Things that sapped at the last supports of Wolfwood's soul.

"Alright, what's up Nick?"

He slowed the bike to a stop and waited for Vanessa to get off before he let it fall the ground, cross tumbling across the sands, marring their serene surface. When he turned to her he pulled off his sunglasses, his eyes catching the midday sunlight in a wet flicker that could have been a tear. "Vanessa listen... There's something you need to hear."

The woman smiled and rested her hands on her hips, confident and beautiful as she had always been. "This isn't really like you Nick. What's on your mind?"

He could remember that night when she had been shot, how she had felt in his arms after she confessed her love, the surety in her face when she had spoken. That's how he remembered her, stars dancing in her eyes, his own reflection staring back at him as if caught in a prison of sapphire that he could never escape from. It had scared him then, but it comforted him now, to know that in those eyes he was safe and forgiven, loved. How long ago had that been? Five years? Ten? He no longer remembered, no longer cared or counted. Time was nothing to a man who sought only eternity. "I love you."

Vanessa took a step forward, clasping the priest's hand in her own, "Nick... You know how I feel, and I've known how you felt for years. You didn't have to stop to tell me that. Now come on, let's get back on the road, we have a job to do." The priest said nothing, he only looked at her, the devil that would deliver him to heaven if she could, and he cried.