Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Under the Five Moons ❯ Hot on the Trail ( Chapter 6 )

No, I don't own Trigun. But let's be honest, did you really think that I did?

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In Septombre city, the sounds of a party filled the air. The people of Septombre were big on festivals, and escaping relatively unharmed from Calamity Clarissa Shriver seemed like a good excuse. Ironically, the heroes of the day couldn't make it.

The brave cavalryman couldn't make it because he had to watch the prisoner so she wouldn't escape. This involved them crouching in front of a hotel room door, listening to the other heroes of the day getting chewed out by their mothers.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT RED JACKET? ARE TRYING TO EMULATE YOUR FATHER OR SOMETHING? AND WHAT'S WITH THESE GUNS? THEY'RE ALMOST PERFECT REPLICAS!"

"Mother, I didn't choose the guns, Mr. Marlon did. He said they were perfect for me. And the jacket. . ."

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT NIKKI! YOU JUST LEFT ONE DAY WITH NOTHING BUT A NOTE! I THOUGHT YOU WERE SOLID AND RESPECTABLE LIKE ME, BUT NOOOOOOO! YOU HAVE TO GO OFF LIKE YOUR FATHER! WHAT, DID YOU DECIDE TO GO LOOKING FOR HIM?"

"Well. . ."

"SHUSH!"

It was all Evans and Calamity could do to keep themselves from laughing. Evans forced down a chuckle and pointed the left, in the direction of Jeremiah's mother's room. They crept over to the door and pressed their ears against it. While Jeremiah's mother was very loud, Nikki's mom was threatening to drown her out.

"AND I FIND YOU IN A BAR WITH THIS? DID YOU TAKE THIS FROM YOUR FATHER'S GRAVE? OHHHH, JEREMIAH IF I FIND OUT THAT YOU'VE TAKEN THIS FROM HIS GRAVE I SWEAR I'LL BEAT YOU!"

"No mom, it's not his. Look!"

The sound of leather snaps breaking open could be faintly be heard.

"See mom? It's not his, I made it myself!"

"YOU MADE IT YOURSELF? WHERE DID YOU LEARN TO MAKE GUNS? ESPECIALLY ONES LIKE THIS?"

"I spent a year working under Mr. Marlon mom. I told him I wanted a gun like the one dad had! We went out to his grave to get the specs! I even made some improvements!"

"LIKE WHAT, THE SKULL? HOW COULD YOU PUT SOMETHING SO CREEPY ON A CROSS?"

"Well, I just thought it looked cool. . ."

"WELL IT DOESN'T, IT LOOKS CREEPY!"

At this point, Evans and Calamity figured they should go downstairs. If they held their laughter in any longer, their internal organs were going to burst out their sides. Calamity motioned to the stairs, and they both started to creep past the door towards them. Unfortunately for them, Calamity stepped on a black cat's tail halfway between the rooms. The cat yowled in pain and ran off. Suddenly, the shouting stopped. There was silence for a moment, during which, Evans glared daggers (or seemed to be doing so under his sunglasses) at Calamity. The doors burst open, Miss Stryfe and Miss Thompson stood in them. Miss Stryfe pointed two very nasty looking Derringers at each of their heads. Evans glanced over at Miss Thompson's door. She stood there hefting a very large gattling-style stun gun. Like most people facing death, Evans found that his mind was preoccupied with other things. All he could think about was that it was amazing that a woman in forties, even such a tall woman, could wield so large a gun.

Beside him, Calamity laughed nervously. Evans leaned over to her and whispered through gritted teeth, "I'm gonna kill you, you do know that?"

Calamity nodded, "Assuming they don't kill us first, yeah."

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Far away from Septombre, on the outskirts of LR Town, a van waited for nightfall. The driver looked at his watch. "Martinez should be here soon. Right?"

Blayne stopped scratching her wolf. "Lorand, for a man who once spent an entire day calibrating a gun turret, you are remarkably impatient."

Sunset came, and Martinez still did not show.

"Look on the bright side," Blayne said, "at least we can listen to the music while we wait."

"Music?" Lorand said.

Blayne nodded. "Listen, you'll hear it. Julius passed through the graveyard here a while ago. They wanted to see if they could raise Midvalley the Hornfreak."

"Well, they couldn't obviously, otherwise there'd be one more of us, right?"

"Nope, the body was too far gone. Some animals had gotten to it before it was buried."

"Good, two walking corpses hanging around is all I can take. Just as well the bosses killed Julius."

"True. Anyway, whenever a necromancer passes through a graveyard, strange things start to happen like. . . ah, there it is."

Saxophone music drifted into the van. The player was a master, perhaps the greatest saxophone master since one man had picked up the instrument so many years ago and played his out his soul. Lorand and Blayne sat in the van silently for a long while, listening to the former Gung-Ho Gun's song.

The van door slid open and Martinez stepped in. His bullet wounds were gone, but his clothing was still shredded. "Ah, I miss Midvalley. That man knew how to play." He turned around and closed the door. "Sorry I'm late, but I was feeling pretty hungry when I woke up so I stopped by to sample the local flavor." He shook his head. "Not so good. The people around here don't eat right." He shrugged.

Martinez was the only person that Blayne couldn't hear coming. "I hate it when you do that."

He shrugged and looked around the van. "Where's Julius?"

Lorand turned around in his seat. "He failed the boss, so he was killed."

"Oh, really? Too bad." Martinez slid into a seat.

"So how did your mission go, Martinez?"

"It had to be abandoned, something completely unexpected came up."

"The boss ain't gonna like that."

"I'm not worried. He'll understand when he hears why."

"So what's the big news?" Blayne asked.

"Do know how unique the taste of Plant blood is? No, I don't suppose you would. Well, let's just say that our Master has niece, eh? We can leave it at that I think."

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"That reminds me," Miss Stryfe said, her derringers firmly fixed on Evans and Calamity, "who are these two?"

"Well, Miss Stryfe. . ." Evans started to say.

"A: Don't call me Miss Stryfe. I really don't like being called Miss Stryfe. B. I didn't ask you anything."

"Well, er. . . what's your first name?"

"Meryl"

"Well Meryl, would you mind putting your guns down? It's kind of unsettling. Same for you Miss, uh. . ."

"Oh just call me Millie!" she said, having already lowered her gun. She walked over to Evans and Calamity. "Pleased to meet you Mr. . . ."

"Lieutenant, actually. Lieutenant Evans Braxler. Of the 14th Cavalry."

She grabbed his hand and shook it.

"And you are?"

"Calamity Clarissa Shriver. Daughter of, OW!" Evans had kicked her in the shins. "Why did you kick me?"

Evans turned to her. "Because you're not his daughter. That's why."

Meryl lowered her derringers. "Not whose daughter?" Behind her, Nikki was waving frantically. She kept shaking her head and drawing her hand across her neck.

Calamity either didn't see her or didn't care. "Vash the Stampede's."

Millie laughed. "You can't be Mr. Vash's daughter! Nikki is!" She realized what she had just let out and covered her mouth. "Oops."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute. They could hear the sounds of the partiers outside. The band played, leading the dancing feet of the townspeople. In dark alleyways, young men used their best words with the young women. Not even this sound could fill the silence in the room now.

Finally, Evans spoke. "You're what?"

Nikki grinned nervously. "Vash the Stampede is my father."

"Riiiight."

"You don't believe me either, do you?"

"Nope."

"Oh come on! You saw her back with Calamity! How can you doubt that gunmanship?" Jeremiah said.

Evans shrugged. "There are a lot of good gunmen in the world," he said, "Not all of them are related to Vash the Stampede."

Meryl edged over to Millie. "Was I this much of an ass when we first met Vash?" she whispered.

"Oh, no Meryl." Millie whispered back. "You were much worse."

"Do you have any proof?"

"What, like a birth certificate? Yeah, I have that, but my dad wasn't going to use his real name, was he?"

"Really? Then you don't have proof?"

Nikki was fuming now. "WELL YOU CAN JUST ASK HIM YOURSELF WHEN WE FIND HIM WON'T YOU?" She was breathing heavily and her eyes flashed.

"When you'll what?" Meryl asked.

"Yeah, I'm leading them to Vash the Stampede. I guess I can admit that I'm not his daughter now," Calamity said.

"Oh don't tell me you actually believe them?" Evans shouted.

"Don't have any good reason not to," Calamity responded.

"You know where Vash is?" Meryl asked skeptically. "I've heard that before, from people with a helluva lot more credibility than you."

Calamity reached into her jacket and undid a snap. She pulled a pair of sunglasses from an inner pocket, with the delicacy she might have pulled a grenade from one of her other pockets. She handed them to Meryl. Meryl looked down at the object in her hands. They weren't that much to look at, nothing but small yellow lenses with no frames to hold them. The earpieces were the only noticeable things about them, bent into a zigzag pattern in the middle. That hadn't been in style for a good twenty years.

"Meryl? Are those really. . .?" Millie stopped when she saw them herself.

Meryl cradled them in her hands. Was it so long ago that she had cradled Nikki the same way? Vash had been there then. Now, she might actually find him. She suddenly remembered to breathe.

"Where did you get those sunglasses?" Nikki asked.

"From Vash. He gave 'em to me before he left for Tonim. He said he was going to spend some time there."

Millie looked up from the glasses. "Mr. Vash went to Tonim?" she said.

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Knives' tastes were fairly simple when it came to his furniture. Currently he was seated in a white lawn chair, sipping a glass of wine. A half empty bottle stood on the table next to him.

"And why weren't you able to finish hijacking the train? We need those funds Martinez. This place doesn't run on air."

"An unexpected guest crashed the party. I had to come back here."

"What, was my brother on the train?"

"Not exactly sir. Tell me, when you were with your brother Vash, did anything change about the women while you were there?"

"They gained some weight, what of it? That was one of the most horrible times in my life. I should have you killed just for bringing it up."

Martinez shook his head. "Oh no sir. They weren't just gaining weight, well at least one of them wasn't. At least one of them was pregnant."

Knives choked on his wine. Legato moved from his place behind Knives and slapped him on the back. Knives sputtered a bit than managed to get himself under control. "Are you saying," he growled, "that Vash had a child with one of those… things?" Martinez nodded. "How can you be sure?" Knives shot at him.

Martinez grinned, showing his fangs. "Remember when we first met, sir? I tried to drink your blood but you ripped me off before I could get more than a sip? Well, I have never forgotten the taste of your blood. Never."

"Are you saying you tasted Plant blood on the person you found?" Legato asked.

"Not quite." Martinez said. He walked to the bar behind Knives and Legato and selected a bottle from the top. His "special" vintage. He took a shaker from the lower shelf and poured some of the wine Knives was drinking into it. To this he added his own special brand. "She was more like…" he said as he shook the shaker. He stopped shaking it and poured the mixture into another wine glass. He swirled it around and took a sip. "A mixed drink."

Knives was shaking visibly. His grip on the wineglass tightened until it shattered in his fist. He stood up and threw the pieces on the floor. His eyes flashed. "HOW COULD HE DO THIS?" He swept the wine bottle off the table. "HOW COULD HE STOOP SO LOW? THE VERY IDEA IS REVOLTING!" He grabbed the table and overturned it.

Legato and Martinez watched with bemusement. Martinez held up his glass. "Want some?"

"Thank you, I believe I will." He took a sip from the glass. "Not bad, but I prefer the 87."

Knives continued to destroy things in his rage. He finally ran out of things to throw and stood in the middle of the room, panting heavily. "AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF, HE BROUGHT A, A, A FREAK INTO THE WORLD! A MISERABLE HALF-THING THAT SHOULDN'T EVER HAVE EXISTED!" He continued to pant, slowly regaining his composure. "Vash, I will let you live for this treachery. But, but that bastard-child must not be allowed to live any longer than is necessary." He walked over to the bar and poured himself another drink, this time some whiskey. "Now, where could she be?"

"They're most likely in Septombre, sir. That's where the steamer I tried to hijack was headed."

"They?"

"She was traveling with a young man. A young man with a Cross Punisher."

Knives downed his drink in one gulp. "Figures." He leaned against the bar. "Legato, do we have anyone near Septombre?"

Legato shook his head. "We are gathered here for the most part. Schneider might have been able to make it, but he's out of contact right now."

Knives nodded, then retreated to his room, holding his head. "I need to think. Go about your business."

Legato and Martinez placed their hands on their shoulders and bowed.

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The next day dawned bright in Septombre. This was about the absolute last thing the townspeople wanted. Everyone had elected to skip work that day due to massive hangovers.

On the sand steamer bridge, Kaite looked over the hungover town. He cursed; he had really wanted to go to that party. But the captain hadn't permitted it.

"Oh quit whining," a mechanic said, "you wouldn't have had that much fun."

Kaite turned around. "How do you know what I'm thinking about?"

The mechanic smiled. She was very pretty to Kaite's eyes. Her hair was almost always dirty, but it was black so it didn't make much of a difference. The nametag on her uniform read "Mariah". She walked up to Kaite. "Because darlin'," she said as she placed her hand on his forehead. "I always know what you're thinking." She pushed him back into the window.

"Yeah you do. How do you that?" Kaite asked.

"All wives can do that helmsman. It's just one of their great mysteries." The captain said as he entered the bridge. "Can we get some coffee up here?"

"She's not technically my wife yet…" Kaite responded.

"Close enough sugar," Mariah said, tapping the ring on her right index finger.

"True."

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"Couldn't you have gotten us a better room? Or better yet, a room period?" Calamity muttered. The four of them were in what is commonly known as economy class. Better known as bottom of the barrel sleep in the hallway class. First-class passengers wouldn't be caught dead around here. Occasionally one of their kids would come down here to poke fun at some of the passengers.

"They're free Calamity, don't complain." Nikki said.

"Yeah, but why are my hands tied?"

"Because I don't trust you," Evans said. He was sitting with Nikki across the hall from Jeremiah and Calamity, with his hat pushed down over his sunglasses.

"Oh, c'mon. She can't go anywhere, she's on a moving sand steamer!" Jeremiah said.

"You saw the guy jump off the last sand steamer we were on, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but he also took a bullet to the head and lived."

He shrugged. "True, but I still don't really care."

"You cut my bonds before!"

"That was symbolic."

Jeremiah reached into his jacket and pulled out a switchblade. He flicked it open and sawed through the ropes. "I'm letting her go. I don't really care what you say."

Evans was about to get up and protest, but fell down heavily instead. "Whatever, just don't let her have her coat."

"But it's cold down here!" Calamity said as she rubbed her wrists.

"But you have explosives in that coat, so no." Nikki said.

Evans groaned. "Christ in Heaven, my head hurts."

Nikki turned to him. "That's your own damn fault and you know it."

Calamity stood up. She reached into her hair and undid the pigtails she usually kept it in, letting her red hair fall down to her waist. "That's much better," she said. "I always feel like I've got a rubber bands wrapped around my head when it's like that."

"You look much better that way," Jeremiah said. "Why don't keep it?"

"Ain't practical," she said. "You guys gonna check in on your mothers?"

Nikki grunted and turned her head away.

"Can't be angry at each other forever," Jeremiah said. He stood up. "You may still be angry with your mom, but I think I'll go see how they're doing." He left them and walked up the stairs.

Evans groaned again and slunk further down the wall. "Lucky. They get a decent cabin and can write it off as a business expense."

"Wasn't always that way," Nikki said. "Things have really moved up in quality since the old days. Used to be that second class was bunking with a bunch of strangers. One time Jeremih's mom and my mom had to work off their fare at the food counter."

Evans lifted up his hat. Nikki wondered why he bothered with it; he was still wearing his sunglasses under them. "Refresh my memory, they sell headache medicine at the counters?"

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Jeremiah walked up the stairs into the second-class cabin area. This place was a step or two from the fourth class bunk he and Nikki had shared his last voyage. They had a sitting room for the guests and a carpet or two. He found his mom sitting on one of the sitting room couches, a pudding packet in front of her and a spoon in her right hand. She waved to him. He waved back and sat down on the couch in front of her.

"Pudding again mom?"

"Best stuff on the planet! Want some Jeremiah?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "Nah, I'm not hungry. I might get something for the rest of 'em."

"We both know what Nikki wants!" Millie said.

Jeremiah nodded. "Doughnuts," they said together.

Millie smiled and put down her spoon. She wasn't serious very often, especially with her son, but she wanted him to know something.

"Jeremiah, you know your father's grave is in Tonim."

Jeremiah nodded. "Yeah, I visit it every year."

"I thought you would. Jeremiah, do you know who your father was?"

"Yeah, he was a priest. Ran an orphanage out in the middle of nowhere."

"Well, you know there was more to him than that?"

"Yeah, I know. He killed people mom. I know"

"Did Mr. Vash tell you that?"

"Yeah mom, he did."

"What else did Mr. Vash say?"

"He told me that Nicholas D. Wolfwood was one of his greatest friends. One of his only friends."

Someone cleared his throat behind Jeremiah. It was the captain. "Are you Millie Thompson?"

Millie perked up. "That's me!"

"Ah, may I sit down?" Millie nodded.

The captain bowed and sat down on a couch.

Millie gestured towards Jeremiah. "Oh, this is my son!"

Jeremiah extended his hand. "Jeremiah T. Wolfwood."

The captain shook it. "Ah, Wolfwood. I thought so. I've seen you two coming down to Tornim before." He fingered something in his pocket. "You come down to visit the grave of your husband, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, correct?"

Millie's face tightened. "That was his name, but he never got to be my husband."

"Ah, I'm sorry. Well, perhaps you have heard of the grave robbing epidemic?"

Jeremiah's eyes opened wide. He thought that he could see where this was going.

Millie nodded.

"Well it's spread to Tornim, and well. . ." he trailed off. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Jeremiah. He looked at it, already guessing what it said. He scanned it, and handed it to his mother. She took it and read it. It was a transcript of a radio news show, a small side item.

The grave robbing epidemic that has plagued the planet hit the town of Tornim last night. The robbers chose to focus on a single grave, that of a priest named Nicholas D. Wolfwood. The sheriff's office believe that his grave was targeted due to the cross shaped gun standing over the grave, which was taken along with the body. The cross gun could be valued at. . .

Millie stopped reading. She crumpled up the paper and squeezed her eyes shut. It didn't help, the tears came through anyway, dropping on to the crumpled paper. Jeremiah stepped over the table and sat next to his mother, putting his arm around her shoulder. He bowed his head.

"I'm sorry," said the captain.

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Jeremiah: The cross of my father is gone. I now carry my own cross with me, built by my own hands. I am always told that I look like my father, what a great person he was. I try to follow his example, just as I followed the example of his cross when I made my own, but it is my own cross to bear, just as his was his to bear. I know who I am. I look at Nikki and I wonder, is she looking for her father to get him back, or because she really doesn't know who she is? Next Chapter: Plants and Abominations