Disclaimers: Trigun belongs to Yasuhiro Nightow. I don't own anything related to Trigun except this fic.
Early DaysA Trigun Fanfiction by ntc
Part 2: ShowdownVash immediately sensed that something was wrong when his acute hearing picked up the sounds of several vehicles heading towards the town. It was not uncommon to have the occasional car or motorcycle drive into town, as the town relied on these stopovers by passing travelers to keep its businesses afloat. However, it was uncommon to have five… no… six of them coming here simultaneously. He also recognized the sound of those engines. It was the same sound that had blared loudly behind him while he was being chased down by bandits a few days ago.
Once again, trouble had managed to find him. He hands curled into fists. If he continued to run, there would be no end to the torment, and innocent people would be the ones dragged down by his lack of courage. It was time he stopped running. His gaze fell on his duffel bag. The two items inside it were the source of his problems. If he had allowed the bandits to take them, those bandits wouldn't be coming after him now. But he knew he couldn't just hand those items over, not when it had already cost him so much to gain possession of them.
"What's wrong, kiddo? You just spaced out a while there." Alex was looking at him with concern.
Vash got up quickly from his seat. "Thanks for the doughnuts. I have to go now. Can you tell Mrs. Thompson…"
"She told you to stay here the whole day, didn't she? I believe that meant sleeping over for the night. You look like you could use the rest."
"Tell her…" Vash tried to keep his anxiety from leaking into his voice. Every second spent here was a second that he didn't have to spare. He had to get out of this place before they caught up with him. He was the target, so it was likely that they would leave the rest of the town alone. "Tell her I'm grateful but…"
A voice with a no-nonsense tone rang out from the kitchen. "But what?"
Vash was soon confronted by the lady who had shown him nothing but kindness since they met. Another reason why he had to high-tail out of there as quickly as his legs could carry him. It was bad enough having people he didn't know getting hurt. If it were people he knew, it would break his heart; and his heart had been battered enough already. "But I really must leave now! I'll repay you one day when I can, I promise."
"Young man, if you think I took you in because I expect repayment…"
Vash didn't wait for her to finish. He grabbed his duffel bag and dashed for the door. His fingertips nearly brushed against the handle when he felt a strong arm encircle his waist and drag him away from the door. Staring at the man who had hampered his escape, Vash almost shouted in frustration. "I don't have time for this! Let-" His subsequent words died on his tongue when he saw Alex's serious expression.
Alex placed a finger to his lips, indicating the need for silence. A round of machine-gun fire was let loose outside and panicked screams from women and children could be heard. There were chaotic sounds of banging doors, breaking glass and overturning tables coming from the buildings some distance away.
It was not hard to guess what was happening. Before Vash could break free and head outside again, Alex propelled him towards Mrs. Thompson. "You two get down below and hide in the cellar."
"What…" Vash was suddenly very afraid of what Alex was planning. The man had the appearance of someone who had made a tough decision about something and was determined to carry it out.
"You're not in the position to order me around, Alex," said Mrs. Thompson quietly. She held Vash closer to herself. "This wouldn't be the first time that I face those people. I didn't hide five years ago, and I wouldn't start hiding now."
"You stubborn mule of a woman!" Alex didn't waste time arguing and, instead, concentrated on pushing both of them up the staircase. "At least try to stay out of sight until this whole mess blows over."
"I can stop this," said Vash. "Those men are after me. Just let me go outside-" The rest of what he was about to say was lost when Mrs. Thompson's arm reflexively tightened around him, squeezing the breath out of his lungs.
"They'll have to pry you out of my cold, dead hands, young man."
Vash could feel his eyes stinging with imminent tears but he resolutely held them back. It was overwhelming to experience humanity's worst and best in a span of a mere few days.
They entered a bedroom- apparently Alex's, judging from the clothing strewn all over the place. After signaling to them to stay in a corner, Alex went to the window and peered out furtively. What he saw made him curse. "Damn."
Mrs. Thompson released Vash from her hug and walked towards the bed, where she proceeded to lift the mattress up and pick up a bundle that was hidden under it. Alex tore his gaze away from the window and was startled to have the bundle pressed into his hands. Regaining his composure quickly, he choked out, "How…"
"Housecleaning. Besides, you always were a lousy actor, Alex. You could pretend to be a baker's apprentice, but I know the smell of gun smoke too well for you to fool me." Her voice softened into a whisper. "You can stop pretending now."
Alex's grip on the bundle tightened and he silently nodded. The man then moved to retrieve the stash of ammunition he had kept locked in one of the drawers.
Vash watched all this from a distance and had forgotten that he could have used the opportunity to escape. As Alex walked past him, Vash reached out and held onto his arm. "You can't fight them off on your own. There are too many of them."
There was a devious glint in Alex's eyes, and Vash involuntarily backed a step. "You're right," said Alex. "That's why you're going to help me."
Mrs. Thompson opened her mouth to protest but was interrupted.
"Ma'am, I won't let history repeat itself. I will keep the boy safe."
xXxXxXx
The bandit leader, Slade Dalton, surveyed the crowd of terrified townspeople that his men had managed to gather at the town square. More were being added to the crowd by the minute. The few men of the town who had attempted to put up some resistance were brutally beaten up, and everything had been smooth-sailing from then on. Most of them did not even wait to be routed out of their homes and came obediently to cower in fear in the middle of the town. It would be so easy to loot all the houses and business establishments. However, there's time for that later- after their real objective had been achieved.
"Has anyone of you seen a blonde youth in this town? He wears a red bodysuit and carries a grey duffel bag."
There was a brief murmur among the townspeople and one scruffy man spoke up in a high-pitched fearful voice. "I… I remember walking past some strange kid this morning while I was running errands for my boss. The kid has blonde hair that sorta spikes up, right?"
"That sounds like the one we're after. Where did you last see this kid?"
"I think I saw him walking into one of the alleys near the bakery," said the man, licking his lips nervously. "Though I might be wrong… I mean, I can't be sure or anything. I wasn't really looking, you know what I mean? I…"
The spineless man was babbling and Slade shot a round into the ground to stem the tide of useless information. The man flinched and shut up immediately. "The bakery, eh?" It seemed that Fate had a peculiar sense of humour. The last time he was here, he had a bone to pick with the baker's son who had dared to capture two of his men and hand them over to the sheriff in one of the nearby cities. The fool thought he could freelance as a bounty hunter. It had taken four days for him to die. "Is the bakery still at the same place?"
xXxXxXx
Vash spluttered. "You're insane! "
"If you can think of a better way, let us hear it," said Alex.
"I can always give myself up! Or run away and let them come after me; draw their fire and all…"
"How many times do we have to tell you that that's one option which we would never consider! I'm done talking to you." Alex turned towards the matron. "Ma'am? I know I'm asking for a lot, and you'll be the one having to foot the bill at the end."
The matron's eyes misted over and, for a moment, looked as if she might object. But she gave her permission in the end. "The Dalton Gang's one hundred thousand double dollar bounty is more than enough to pay for the damages."
xXxXxXx
"Backdoor is secured, boss. No one will be getting past Eugene and the others."
A slight tilt of the head indicated that he had heard. Slade took a deep breath and bellowed, "Woman! If the boy is in there, it is best to give him up! Don't make it difficult for both of us!"
There was no response from the bakery. "Stubborn old hag," muttered Slade under his breath. That indomitable woman clearly hadn't learnt her lesson.
He was about give the signal to storm the building when the front door swung open and a man, who looked to be in his thirties, emerged. In his hand was a cord of rope which he used to drag a trussed up teenager across the ground behind him. The man practically oozed sycophantic eagerness. "I've got the boy you want right here!" He nudged the boy in the ribs with his foot, who hissed in pain. "It took me a while to subdue that foolish woman and bring this prize out. You… you will spare my life now, right?"
Slade smiled. When it came to saving their own hides, humans could betray even their own kin. What more a total stranger? The only person he knew who would go out on a limb for someone else was the baker- the stubborn old hag. "Of course." This man showed promise, to be able to overcome the kid who had supposedly trounced four of his men alone. Perhaps he could be persuaded to join his gang later. "Hand over the kid and I promise that my men won't harm you."
The man placed a boot on the boy's chest, pinning the boy to the ground. "Just curious. What did this brat do to piss you off so badly?"
"That's none of your business," growled Slade.
"Uh, heh-heh. You're right. It really isn't any of my business." The man hastily pulled the boy up by the collar and grinned. The grin abruptly vanished when the boy chomped down on his fingers. With a squeal that sounded like a pig about to be slaughtered, the man dropped the boy and flapped his bitten hand like a madman. There was a ripping noise and the boy was soon free of the ropes that had bound him. The boy spun and it was obvious that he was about to run back into the bakery.
We'll see about that. "Open-"
"Aiieeee! Don't shoot! Don't shoot! You'll hit me by accident!" shrieked the fool who was waving his arms about, effectively blocking any clean shots they might have on the boy's back.
Slade resisted the temptation to order his men to open fire and hit the fool on purpose. He snarled, "Then get out of our way, you idiot!" He motioned his men forward. "Five of you go in there through the front door. Get Eugene and his men to burst in through the back door at the same time. Move!"
The man, whom Slade was having less and less respect for, stumbled away from the porch and shambled to his side timidly. "Great and kind sir, er… you saw how it wasn't my fault, right? So you have no reason to kill me, right?"
Slade silenced him with a murderous glare. He turned his attention back on his men who were getting ready for the attack. Two doors were kicked open at the same time and Slade watched as they rushed into the bakery. Seconds passed in tense silence, which was broken when a few of his men started firing their guns. Slade hoped they weren't dumb enough to stand in the line of fire of each other, seeing how crowded the bakery would be by now with ten of his men inside.
Then the bakery exploded.
A hail of shattered glass and splintered wood rained down on him and the rest of his men who were waiting with him outside. Bodies were flung to the ground. Flames and smoke billowed out of the openings that used to be windows and doors. The entire structure of the building creaked ominously, and the upper storey looked as if it was about to topple and crush everything on the ground floor.
With his ears ringing from the deafening explosion, it took a moment for Slade to realize that shots were being fired behind him. One by one, the five men who were with him were downed by accurate shots that shattered their trigger fingers and sent their weapons flying out of their grasps. Before he could react, he felt the pressure of a hot metallic gun barrel against the back of his head.
"Hold your hands up and don't move." It was the fool's voice, no longer sounding like a fool. "I still have one bullet left."
Slade mentally berated himself for being tricked so easily. He should have suspected that something was amiss when the boy had managed to shed the ropes so quickly. The man holding him at gunpoint felt around for his holster and relieved him of his pistol. "How did the explosion happen?" asked Slade. "There couldn't be any gun powder or explosives in that bakery. The old hag hates anyone and anything to do with guns."
The barrel of the gun was pressed even more deeply into his scalp, making Slade wince from the burning heat. "Call her that again and I'll splatter your brains on the sands right now. And in answer to your question, that's none of your business."
"Touché." Slade allowed his thoughts to drift back to the dangerous situation before him. "At least allow me to send my men in and get the injured out of that building before it collapses."
"I don't care about your men."
"What about the boy and the old… woman?"
"They're hiding somewhere safe, not to worry. My plan, unlike yours, is flawle… Damn!"
Slade saw what had caused the angry curse. The baker, her face covered with soot, had two of his men draped across her shoulders as she trudged out of the burning building. Following closely behind her was the boy, towing another unconscious form.
While Slade was considering using this distraction to turn on his captor, he felt his legs being kicked out from under him and he ended up sprawling onto the ground. A boot was planted firmly on the small of his back. The man was taking no chances with him.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING!" roared the incensed man. The boot holding Slade in place was quivering with emotion.
Neither the woman nor the boy bothered to answer, and Slade could see both of them dashing back into the burning building after depositing his unconscious men a safe distance away from the bakery. The building made more ominous creaking noises.
After more cussing and swearing, the man shouted, "Don't just stand there!" Slade assumed that he was speaking to the bandits around who were still conscious. "Go and help them! You lot might not be able to fire a gun for a month, but you can still drag your comrades out! Get moving! If you're not inside that building in ten seconds, I'll start firing!"
The rescue operation was soon under way and Slade sighed in relief when all his men, together with the baker and the boy, successfully escaped the fiery hell. The roof of the building collapsed not long afterwards. It was a close call. "Thank you," he said softly.
"Oh, shut your trap" was the annoyed reply. "You lose. I win. So can we put an end to this show right now?"
Slade chuckled. "Do you think you have won?" The air was suddenly filled with the sounds of approaching jeeps. Slade still had sixteen armed men under his command- the ones who had stayed with the jeeps. Slade frowned. They sure took their time to arrive here. Why hadn't they come the moment the explosion occurred?
Slade was lifted up from his prone position and a gun was soon pressed against his back. "Of course I think I have won. I'm not the one with a gun to his spine."
The pair soon found themselves surrounded by six jeeps. Slade saw his brother and second-in-command, Ethan, giving the signal for the men to train their weapons on him and his captor.
Ethan sucked lazily on a cigarette. "What a pickle you got yourself into this time, brother."
Slade narrowed his eyes at his brother's mocking tone. "Took you long enough to come here," he snapped. "Why…" He was cut off by a meaningful poke in his back.
"Tell your men to put down their guns now. That way, nobody has to get hurt."
Slade thought of getting his brother to hold the boy and the baker hostage in exchange for his own release, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He owed those two the lives of at least ten of his men. But it galled him to force the surrender of his whole gang just to save his own skin, so that option was out too. His thoughts were interrupted by Ethan's chilling laughter.
"You know the rules, brother; so don't hate me for it. The gang should always take precedence over the individual." Slade felt his stomach twist in dread. "Someone who is weak enough to be taken hostage doesn't deserve to be the leader of the Dalton Gang."
Slade knew what was about to happen but was powerless to do anything about it. He was soon sprayed crimson and flung backwards by the volley of bullets tearing through his body, crashing into the man behind him.
xXxXxXx
Vash was frozen in shock when he saw Alex collapsing under the bandit leader's bullet-riddled body. It appalled him that anyone could be so ruthless as to kill a comrade in order to bring down an enemy. Tears blurred his vision. His fingers twitched stealthily towards his duffel bag.
Mrs. Thompson, however, was not concerned about such things as bringing attention to herself. "You scumbags!" She then made her way towards the spot where Alex and the bandit leader had fallen, with a total disregard for the armed men who were in her path. Vash cried out for her to stop but his plea fell on deaf ears.
A few of the men stepped out of her way without thinking, but one man, who was less intimidated than the others, planted himself squarely in her path. When she tried to sidestep him, he brought a fist up and smashed it against her temple.
Then several things happened all at once.
Vash pulling out the silver Colt from his duffel bag and standing up from his crouched position; Mrs. Thompson tottering and about to fall; and a blood-coated figure raising behind the distracted bandits like a vengeful angel of death. Before Mrs. Thompson's body even hit the ground, rapid gunshots- so rapid that it sounded like one continuous shot- cracked the air like a whip. The blood-splattered bodies of a dozen bandits soon joined her, crumpling into moaning heaps on the ground. The remaining bandits who were spared the bullet- the four bandaged ones still sitting in the jeeps- were too petrified to do anything other than gibber.
Vash almost could not recognize the person whom he had known as Alex. The man's eyes were gleaming with deadly intent. Demonic. Emotionless. Alex's shirt was drenched in so much blood that it looked as if he was wearing maroon. He walked towards the bandit who had lead the new group that had arrived at the scene. The bandit was kneeling, a hand pressing against a bleeding wound in his stomach. Alex, in cold deliberateness, kicked him in the chin until he toppled and landed flat on his back. He proceeded to reload his pistols slowly, towering over the trembling man at his feet. Vash discovered that he was trembling too.
"Alex…" It was Mrs. Thompson's voice, calm and soothing. "Alex, stop this now. You don't have to do this."
Alex did not seem to have heard her. His gleaming eyes were still focused on the bandit. "I could have lodged a bullet in your skull just now, but I didn't. Do you want to know why?"
"Please… don't kill me…" begged the bandit, crazed by fear. "I'll give you anything you… Gah!"
Another bullet was discharged into one of the bandit's shoulders, followed by another into a thigh. A booted heel came down on the wounded shoulder and started grinding. The bandit screamed until he couldn't find the energy to do so anymore, ultimately reduced to hoarse whimpers. Vash felt bile rising up to his throat. This was torture.
Just when Vash thought it was over, Alex once more pointed the muzzle of his gun at the bandit. This time he was aiming for the head. "Though you don't deserve it, I will be generous and grant you a swift death."
Unable to keep still any longer, Vash hurled his Colt in Alex's direction. The massive pistol knocked against Alex's wrist, skewing the man's aim so that the shot was fired into the ground next to the bandit's head instead. Alex turned to face him, his face a mask of fury. But the fury died down when he saw Mrs. Thompson standing beside him, reaching out and placing her hand over his- the bloody one that was gripping the pistol.
"You don't have to do this," she repeated. "It's not worth it. Not if it costs you your humanity."
Vash held his breath as he watched Alex struggle to regain his old self within the peaceful aura of the baker. He only let it out again when Alex fell into Mrs. Thompson's arms, unconscious.
(To be concluded)
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A/N: Eep. That last scene turned out to be more violent than I intended. Blame my muse. The final chapter is in the works, so expect it to be out next week. Please review and let me know what you think of the story so far.
Oh, and just in case any of you are wondering, the explosion was caused by flour. A spark in an enclosed space full of suspended tiny flour particles can set off an explosion of sorts. Perhaps not as spectacular as the one described in this chapter, but let us assume that other flammable fuel had been used to feed the flames. If anyone wants to point out the flaw in my understanding of physics, feel free to do so.
Responses to Reviewers of previous chapter:
ReadingWhiz89: I'm glad that you liked the OCs in the fic. Yes, Alex's personality is modelled on the goofy, womanizing, happy-go-lucky adult Vash's. I find that Vash was more serious when he was young (especially after he had been so traumatized by Knives), and it got me speculating how he later turned out the way he did. A role model of sorts was called for, and the character Alex is thus created. Thanks for telling me that the egg and gun trick was from the anime. I've read it in a couple of fanfics, but I wasn't sure whether it was canon or fanon.
millyfan: I hope chapter two hasn't disappointed you. Thanks for reviewing.
Lady Shadowcat: Heh heh... I'm happy to hear that I've managed to trick you into thinking that Alex was Vash. That was my intention :D You thought the boy was Legato? -Recalls the mention of bloodstains and big appetite- Ah yes, I can see why you might have guessed that. Though I have to say, that idea sounds quite interesting. I wonder how a young Legato would have turned out if it was Vash who rescued him instead of Knives?