Ch. 11 Death and Disease
Bleeding Sun

Vash's teeth ground together as he watched air being sucked wildly through the rip. He felt his muscles tighten, but they wouldn't move as the door to the last escape ship started closing off his sights from the horrific event. He yelped at feeling his brother shoving him out of the way and began clawing at the air towards Rem. She was clinging to the grated floor and was slowly losing consciousness. Knives yelled in pain as the door started closing on his left arm, and in a sickening crunch and scream, his arm was completely sliced off at the shoulder joint. Vash's eyes widened at the sight of all the blood pouring from the stump. Vash turned his head to the closed door and fell face first when the ship gave a jolt from being launched.

"REM!" He cried out and scrambled to the window and watched as the entire fleet of SEED ships tore apart in the vacuum of space. Tears fell from his face and he spun around to see Knives cradling his armless shoulder. "No! Knives, you didn't get her! It's your fault! You killed Rem!" Vash cried out in anger. Knives didn't respond as he wiggled back into the shadows and away from Vash's accusing stares. "Knives! Knives!" he called out to his brother, trying to gather his attention.

"Knives!" Vash yelled in anger from the ground. His eyes shot open and he looked up at Wolfwood who was standing where Vash had been immobilized moments before. Wolfwood snarled and turned his gray eyes to look at the Stampede. Vash scrambled to stand up but found his muscles still weak from being held still. Wolfwood looked down at the slumped form of Zazie and lowered his gun to point at his head. Several loud bangs rang out in the desert and Wolfwood sheathed his gun and turned to Vash emotionlessly. Vash finally had rolled himself over onto all fours and he sloppily crawled to Zazie and grabbed the shoulders of the dead boy. Vash shook him violently as the tears that had been rolling down his face began drying and staining his pale flesh.

"Where is Knives! I want to kill that bastard! Where is he!" Vash spat into the lifeless corpse's face. He ferociously threw down the body and he unsteadily got onto his own two feet and looked Wolfwood in the face.

"It's… your fault…" he muttered and fell face first onto Wolfwood's chest. Wolfwood slumped Vash's comatose body onto the motorcycle and then he himself hoped onto the driver's seat, and ignoring the cries of terror from the twenty-five children, he took off down the road as fast as he could.

Wolfwood and Vash sat with their backs together beside the broken down motorcycle, far from any town they knew of. Vash hadn't said a word to the priest since they had left those children by themselves. Wolfwood merely sat and idly puffed on his bent cigarette, hoping it would last him for another few minutes. A gust of wind blew dirt into their faces and Vash groaned in annoyance, being the one facing the wind the most. Wolfwood ground his cigarette butt into the sand and gave a hefty sigh, knowing this wasn't helping them any.

"So… whose this 'Knives', anyway?" Wolfwood asked over his shoulder. Vash stood up and walked around to the other side of the motorcycle and sat, leaning against it opposed to sitting against Wolfwood. "Fine, whatever." The priest muttered while lighting his last cigarette, which was more crumpled than the others.

Both men awoke with a start at the clunking sounds of a truck screeching to a halt beside them. A head poked out the window to reveal its unshaven and dirty round face.

"You boys need a ride?" the repulsive man called out towards them. Wolfwood looked over the bike seat at Vash's gray, spiked hair and then back up to the driver.

"Sure mister, that's very kind of you! Can you fit my bike into the back of your truck there?" The driver gave a hearty laugh and nodded, happy he could be of service to these lost people. Vash stood up and helped Wolfwood roll the broken down bike onto the vehicle.

They rattled along the unpaved road and into a town. Vash was laying against the window on the passenger's side, and although his sunglasses hid his heartless eyes, his steady breathing revealed that he was deep asleep. Wolfwood sat in the middle and his finger unconsciously stroked one of the confessionals he had sitting in his lap as he tried to forget that he was out of cigarettes. The driver hummed an unrecognizable tune to himself and didn't bother with talking to his guests. The town was rather shabby, and the near empty streets didn't give it any compliments. The truck pulled over beside the trading post and beckoned for the priest and madman to exit the truck. Vash lazily stumbled out and Wolfwood slid onto the ground shakily.

"Thank you very much sir. I wish we had something to give you for your efforts…" Wolfwood glanced at the mini confessional he had clung to during the ride and quickly handed it over to the driver. "Here, this is on me." Wolfwood smiled like he was handed the man a priceless watch proudly, but all the man did was shrug and jabbed a thumb to the back of his vehicle.

"Well, you two had better get that bike of yours to a shop and find some lodgings. Be careful about which side of town you decide to park yourselves."

Wolfwood started to ask why but by the time the driver was in his truck the priest couldn't seem to bring himself to really care. Wolfwood glanced over his shoulder nonchalantly and had to do a double take before he spun around with his mouth gaping open at the empty space that once had been occupied with a lunatic.

"Hey!" the terrorist priest cried out indignantly.

Vash shakily stumbled down the road, unsure what was wrong with him. Even when he had been this tired before he could walk tall and menacingly around cities. He placed a hot leather clad hand over his forehead, the cool metals rings felt good against his burning temple. It felt like thousands of people were screaming in his face as he was helplessly thrown about on a roller coaster. The ground twisted and turned and leaned back and forth and spun beneath his feet. Vash desperately grabbed hold to a support beam to a boot shop and clung on for dear life. Why was the ground moving? It never did that before… Who are those people? Why are they staring? Oh shit…

Vash keeled over and threw up by somebody's feet. Even when sick he could make people's lives miserable. His sunglasses slid down his sweaty nose, and he was suddenly aware of how hot it was in this leather body-suit, temperature controlled or not. A hand touched his back and Vash swung clumsily at the owner of the hand, angry that someone would touch him, but in his state – he missed by a mile.

"Don't worry dear, I'll get you inside…" A motherly voice said to him softly. Vash felt several pair of arms wrap under his arms and around his back as they heaved him up and dragged him inside. Vash weakly struggled on the way, but couldn't bring himself to do much more than to mumble curses at them.

"You greasy, ugly son of… Let me go now or I'll kill every last one of you…" Vash finally stopped muttering promises of death into their ears when they sat him down on a cushioned bench.

"He can stay in the guest room until he gets better. I wouldn't worry about his threats, he's probably just a bit delusional from this illness." Vash once again felt arms around him, but this time had to use all of his energy concentrating on breathing. They dragged him upstairs, and some time between the top of the steps and the bedroom, he lost consciousness.

Ok, I feel we're even now. Another early update. Now back on schedule. I want a solid 40 reviews before chapter 12, or no more story. (threats, threats, threats!) finger slowly lowers to point at you, then at "go" button Review. I command it.