A/N: This chappie's a little longer (a little cheesy too...) Desperately in need of reviews!;) Questions, comments, sarcasticremarks?
A voice shouting Meryl's name snatched her from slumber. "What?" She asked groggily, not bothering to open her eyes. There was something loud roaring next to her ear.
"Meryl!" Came the voice again.
"What!" Meryl snapped, opening her eyes blearily. Vash's panicked face came into view in the almost pitch black cave.
The roaring noise, she realized, was the shriek of the wind and rain. The sand at the mouth of their chamber was dark and slick with water. It's finally here, she realized. The storm had hit.
The temperature had dropped even lower overnight, and she could see her breath as she exhaled. Vash shouted something that she couldn't quite hear over the tempest.
"What?" She shouted.
"I said, we need to block the entrance!"
Meryl, now fully awake, stood up. "With what?"
Vash didn't reply, but headed toward the back of the cave. Deeper within the protecting rock, the storm was muffled by the thick stone.
"What's this?" Meryl asked curiously. There was a fracture in the rock, barely enough to pass through sideways, that led into blackness.
"I think this cave is a back door," he said. "It leads somewhere."
Meryl stared at the fissure appraisingly. "The back door to what?" She asked.
Instead of replying, Vash slipped into the fracture. In the dim lighting, she could barely make out his form scuttling through the rock.
"Vash!" Meryl called, her voice echoing in the abyss. With a curse, she turned sideways and edged, crab-like, through the tunnel. The space was narrow, and she practically had to hold her breath to fit through. "Vash?" She asked, more quietly, as a feeling of claustrophobia overwhelmed her, making it difficult to breathe.
She felt along the wall, moving as quickly as she could, trying to ignore the rough rock scratching her skin. The silence was eery and oppressive; Meryl was blind in the pitch black, and it vaguely reminded her of a nightmare she once had as a girl.
Finally, she stumbled out the end of the fracture. "Va–," she begin, but the word died in her throat. She was in a cavernous hollow in the rock. It stretched on for what seemed like iles, the ground sloping steeply downward. A metal staircase had been fitted among the stalagmites, to ease the descent, and there were rows of sterile fluorescent lights adorning the ceiling. Meryl realized that the spiky-haired blond had been right: this was definitely the back door to something.
As if on cue, Meryl felt the weight of a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see Vash behind her.
"Hi," he said, smiling goofily. His voice echoed and re-echoed in the cave, finally petering out after a couple minutes.
Meryl rolled her eyes in exasperation, taking a tentative step toward the staircase. She gripped the metal railing and started downward, the metallic groan of the steps beneath her feet the only sound.
Meryl was in excellent shape, but after an hour of sharp twists and turns, steep descents and shallow ones, her calves were beginning to ache. She followed the trail as it wound lazily around a rock formation, the ache gradually building into a dull burn. Ten minutes later, she seated herself on a stair and massaged her leg, trying to catch her wind. Vash bounded down the steps and sat beside her.
"How much further do you think it goes?" He asked. Meryl was surprised to find that he wasn't out of breath at all.
She simply shook her head, unsure, and stood again. She continued downward, leaning a little on the banister. She thought she could see a hint of light ahead, but that was impossible. I'm just tired, she thought, dismissing the idea. A few turns later, she found the light was stronger.
"Do you see that?" She whispered to Vash, needing some sort of reassurance that it was real.
"Mm." Vash confirmed.
Meryl redoubled her efforts, found herself abruptly at the base of the stairs. Just ahead was a doorframe chiseled into the rock, illuminated by some light source beyond. She slowed, took a few deep breaths, and ran her fingers through her damp, tangled hair. She glanced behind her, and found that Vash had become transfixed. His normally vacant expression had been replaced by an intense, curious one. Meryl got the idea that he somehow knew exactly what to expect.
She ducked under the small door, and immediately winced. The lighting seemed abnormally bright after her days in the dark rock. Meryl forced her eyes open, shielding them from the light fixtures with a hand. She blinked twice, slowly getting her bearings.
Her surroundings were sharply in contrast with the primitive cave next door. She was standing in a Spartan hallway, the white-tiled floor covered with an inch-thick layer of dust. Bright lights punctuated the ceiling and the walls were tall and bare. The light footfall behind her announced Vash's arrival. Meryl walked down the cool passage. There was a steel door at the end of the tunnel; grime had gathered on the slightly rusted door handle. Meryl used her sleeve to wipe it clean, then tested it, amazed to find it unlocked. She pushed the door open, then froze instantly, stunned by the sight.
The hallway had exited onto a catwalk, roughly a hundred yards above the floor. The room below was huge, apparently forgotten and in disuse. In the center of the room was a radiant holding sphere. And inside the sphere was a plant.
"It's an electricity plant," Vash murmured in her ear. The sound of his voice brought her back to reality. "She's been powering this underground building all this time."
"It doesn't look like any one has been in here for decades!" Meryl gasped.
"They haven't." Vash pointed to a plaque on the Spartan wall that read:
"Wilburt Cowell and H.L. Jennings
Privately owned and operated"
"Cowell and Jennings?" Meryl read dumbly.
"The richest families on Gunsmoke," said Vash with a nod. "They died in a sand steamer hijack on their way to December. Wilburt and H.L. were unmarried. They never had children. There was no one to take over after they died."
"But the workers...they just left?"
Vash shrugged. "I guess they thought it had been bequeathed to a relative."
"That means this plant has been self-sustained for thirty years!"
Vash climbed down the ladder fixed to the catwalk, walked to the plant, and placed his hands on the holding glass. Meryl watched, enraptured, as he leaned his forehead against the sphere. There was a blur of movement as the plant unfurled her wings, her sightless gaze fixed on Vash. The plant pressed her thin hand against the glass, as if sensing Vash. Meryl looked on, feeling as though she didn't belong, as the plants remained locked in their positions. Without warning, Vash turned away from the glass.
"Let's go."
Meryl's eyebrows shot up. "Go where?"
"This building is a below-ground labyrinth. It links the three cities: Fest, Baker, and October."
Meryl's head was spinning. "This-this has been here all along?" She managed.
Vash nodded. "I had my suspicions when I found the fissure..." he trailed off. "Let's go." He repeated.
"I can't." She said, remembering her undignified escape from October.
Vash was giving her a strange look, and she tried to distract him by asking, "so does this place have food?"
Then gunman's look said he knew exactly what she was trying to do, but he answered her anyway. "No. It's just a powered lab. There's probably offices, chemical labs...a bathroom."
"A bathroom?" Meryl repeated hopefully.
Two hours later found Meryl seated, cross-legged on the floor. A long shower had washed away four days of sand, blood, and sweat and she had sorely regretted having to change back into her old skirt and blouse. Now she was staring at the plant with a sort of child-like rapture.
A throat cleared behind her, and she glanced up to see Vash enter. "Hi, short-stuff!" He said, sitting next to her. Meryl slapped him half-heartedly, smiling as he whined "owie!"
He followed her gaze to the plant.
"What do you do for a living?" He asked randomly.
"Huh?" Said Meryl dumbly, wondering if she'd heard him right. She had expected him to start talking about the plant, or to try to squeeze more information about her predicament.
He turned his aquamarine eyes on her, and she was startled at the change a shower had wrought in him. His hair was still damp and no longer gelled, the dirt had been washed from his face. He was actually handsome.
"What do you do for a living?" He repeated.
"I work–worked–," she amended, "for the Bernadelli Insurance Company."
Vash smiled cheekily. "You're an insurance girl!"
"I was," she said, wondering if she could still keep her job when the dust cleared–literally–from her situation.
"Why did you leave?" He asked.
Oh, boy, thought Meryl, getting ready to stand.
"No, please." Insisted Vash. Something about his tone made her pause.
Meryl remained half-standing, debating what to do. Vash's wanted poster had stated he was a pacifist. What would he do if he found out she was a murderess? She opened her mouth, closed it again. Finally she hung her head. "I killed a man," she whispered, feeling her eyes burn with unshed tears. Saying it seemed to make it final: suddenly the past week caught up with her and she sagged against the wall, silent sobs wracking her slender frame. She felt Vash catch her arm, support her. She took a shuddering breath, willed the room to stop spinning.
"You're okay," Vash was saying soothingly.
"I killed someone," Meryl repeated, hating the way it sounded.
"Do you regret it?" He asked.
Meryl licked her lips, nodded miserably. To her surprise, Vash smiled.
"Your ticket to the future," he said softly, "is always blank."