Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Life Thereafter ❯ Beyond the Horizon ( Chapter 15 )

Disclaimer:How I wish I owned Trigun. Sadly, I own it not.

 

A/N:Another Friday, another chapter. You guys need to thank the brainstorming monkey Abo. Without the prodding of her almighty monkey stick, I would be unable to post once a week due to lazyness. She keeps me in line, though. Anyway, on to the chapter!

 

 

Beyond the Horizon

 

Meryl shuffled uneasily through the town, her feet kicking up small puffs of dust. She shifted the weight of the bags in her arms, careful to not drop them. The situation she was in would only be inflamed further if she lost her grip on one of the items. After all, with the eyes of Millions Knives boring into the back of her head, Meryl really did not have much of an option.

Today was the day that she, Vash, and Knives would be leaving. Millie was staying behind. It had been difficult to convince her to stay since Millie could not stand the idea of being separated from Meryl. The had been through so much together. However, Meryl had insisted that it was for the best. Millie was not the least bit happy about the arrangement but had consented.

So, Millie was not coming. Meryl had told her that it was necessary for someone to remain and write to the home office of Bernardelli to tell them what had happened and to continue sending reports. Of course, there had been another reason that Meryl had not voiced out loud, but Millie had probably guessed anyway. That reason would be Millions Knives, Vash's elder brother.

Meryl did not trust him as far as she could throw him, and she knew that the odds of her lifting him up and tossing him (even though she would love to) were less than zero. Therefore, Meryl did not trust him at all. Knives had told her plainly that he would like nothing better than to be rid of her permanently. Yet, she was still alive, something Meryl had mixed feelings about.

If one was optimisitic and looking at the cup half full, one might believe that Knives was changing, becoming less heinous and evil. Perhaps he would reform.

Tcch, yeah right, Meryl muttered to herself.

In Meryl's opinion, the plant was not ever going to change. That was not a pessimistic point of view, that was being realistic. Just because Knives had decided to not personally slice her in half at this exact point in time did not mean he would not try again later. The only thing stopping him from ending Meryl's life, according to him, was his concern for his brother. Whether or not that was true, Meryl knew Knives would try to finish what he started eventually. The only question was when.

Meryl stumbled a bit when a hand shoved her back roughly. Narrowly avoiding falling flat on her face and spilling the groceries everywhere, she righted herself with great difficulty. Then, she whirled around, scowling angrily. Knives looked down his nose at her disdainfully.

“Walk faster,” he said curtly. “I want to leave today.”

“Well, excuse me, Your Highness,” Meryl said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I appologize that we need supplies for our journey.”

Knives backhanded her across the face. The force of the blow sent her reeling, a jolt of pain shooting through her ankle. Meryl landed on the ground, the taste of sand and grit on her tongue. Sitting up slowly, she looked up at Knives, her eyes widening with fear while she tried to hide it at the same time. He was holding the bags, which she had apparently lost her hold on when he slapped her.

Knives narrowed his eyes at her. “Once again, you have forgotten to whom you are speaking. The next time you talk to me like that, I might just decided to cut out your tongue. That would solve the problem of your insolence, would it not?”

Meryl bit her lip, drawing blood, as she rubbed the already bruising side of her face. He was right about one thing. Being a smart ass was not the best idea right now. She would have to remember that in the future. Meryl could not afford to be so careless. One word from her mouth could determine whether she lived or died, and she would do well to remember that.

But there is no way in hell that I'm going to appologize to that bastard, she thought furiously.

She stood up stiffly and snatched the bags from Knives's hands before marching away, ignoring the pain in her ankle with gritted teeth. Meryl could almost see the smirk on Knives's face as she felt his malicious arctic blue eyes bore into the back of her skull. He was following her, she knew. Knives had insisted upon it the moment that Meryl had said they needed supplies in order to travel to where he wanted to go. Naturally, Knives had not revealed the location of their destination.

How typical, Meryl groused.

It had been extremely nerve-wracking to take Knives out amongst the humans he so despised. Images of the dead, would-be bounty hunters continued to plague Meryl as she navigated the streets, increasingly anxious as they went further into town. Every now and then, she would glance over her shoulder at Knives as discretely as possible. There seemed to be some sort of bubble around him that kept others away. Meryl did not know what it was, but Knives stuck out. Maybe people recognized him. Maybe he just exuded an aura that caused people to want to stay away from him. Whatever the case, Meryl was thankful that the townsfolk left them alone. Taking chances with Knives patience was definitely not a good idea.

Limping slightly, Meryl caught a glimpse of several people staring at them from the relative saftely of their homes. Recognition was evident, and fear was etched in their eyes. It saddened her, but Meryl knew there was nothing she could do about it.

The best I can do for them is to get Vash and Knives away from here. That's all I can do, she mused sadly.

“Thinking about your fellow vermin?”

Meryl's back stiffened visibly as her pace slowed. As her grip tightened around the provisions, she attempted to ignore him and continued walking.

“When I ask you a question, you will answer!” Knives said, his voice radiating an impatience bordering on anger.

Meryl stopped in her tracks and turned, glowering at Knives. “My thoughts, my feelings, everything about me, those things are none or your business, Knives,” she said, glaring at him.

“That's what you think,” Knives sneered. “In case you have forgotten, I read your mind. I know everything there is to know about you. Do not begin to presume that you can outmanuever me, human. I will alway be one step ahead.”

Meryl did not reply. Instead, she stalked away, aware of Knives's presence still behind her. She despised him. There was nothing good about this, man, no, plant. No matter how much Vash would try to reform Knives, it was not going to happen. There was just no way.

That is, if he ever recovers, Meryl thought dismally.

She sighed, shifting the weight of the groceries again, this time onto her hip. As they walked through town, Meryl continues to look for the final shop they needed to visit. They had already purchased food and sleeping gear for desert living. Now all they needed was ammunition.

The mere thought of ammunition made Meryl shiver. It was true that she needed ammunition for her derringers, but the thought of Knives with ammunition was disturbing. That would give him an extra weapon, one which he certainly did not need. After all, he could already transform his arms into blades. Knives did not need to add his old .45 Colt to the mix, a gun that would not only shoot bullets, but enable him to fire much larger blasts from his Angel Arm. And if memory of the incidents at July and Augusta served as an example, then Meryl was sure that if Knives did such a thing, the destruction would be even more devastating in range and damage.

Meryl gnawed a bit on the inside of her cheek, her eyes flickering backs and forth nervously. At this rate, they would never find a gunsmith. Knives had probably frightened a good number of the population away. Those able to leave were long gone, more than likely. But, the ones who had nowhere else to go, they were stranded here. On the other hand, the danger would pass once Knives was gone from the town.

What am I thinking? No one is safe. Not while Knives lives...

Well, worrying about the inevitable was doing no one any good, least of all her. So, as Meryl wandered through the streets, most of which were empty, she continued to search for the gunsmith. Meryl had asked Millie for directions since the tall woman had taken her stungun in for a tune-up not long ago, but Millie had been unable to remember, causing her to give rather vague directions.

Then, Meryl saw an old, run-down building with the sign “Gunsmith” hanging over the door, the wind causing it to squeak gratingly as it swung back and forth. She stared at it a moment, barely noticing that she had stopped walking.

“What are you doing?”

Meryl pointed. “That's the place.”

Knives narrowed his eyes. “That dilapidated hut? Are you joking?”

Meryl gritted her teeth. “No, now come on,” she grumbled as she set off for the entrance, Knives following, his nose wrinkled with disgust.

Meryl's fingers wrapped around the musty door handle and turned it, the door sliding open with a loud creaking noise. She blinked, surprised by the interior's appearance. It was clean and neat, the counter polished and shining. The floor was worn but swept. In addition, guns hung all around the room in racks. The wall was lined with guns of varying lengths, sizes, and strengths.

“Sorry about the hinges. I need to grease them,” a voice said.

Meryl jerked her head around at the sound of that voice, the voice she had heard every single day of her waitressing career in this town. Sure enough, it was Samuel Johnson. She stared at him, non-plussed. He had once told her that he had been a gunsmith, but Meryl thought he had retired.

Sam leaned forward, elbows resting comfortably on the table. He smiled at them pleasantly, but for some reason, he would not look Meryl directly in the eye. That struck her as odd, but she refrained from asking him about it.

“Can I help you?” Sam asked.

“Oh, um, yes,” Meryl began hesitantly. “I need ammunition for some derringers.”

“How much?”

“About twently-five rounds.”

Sam nodded. “Very well,” he said, disappearing into the back room for about ten minutes.

Meryl fidgeted nervously while she waited. Being alone with Knives was really uncomfortable for her. Considering he had tried to kill her several times in less than a week, one could not really blame her for feeling that way. Walking along an open street where it is possibe to at least attempt to run was one thing. Standing in an enclosed area was quite different.

Finally, Sam came back with the desired ammunition. Meryl looked the items over for a moment before agreeing to a price.

“Good, good,” Sam said approvingly. “Now, will you two be paying separately or on the same bill?”

“The same bill,” Meryl replied, her gaze flickering in Knives's direction.

“Very well. And what can I get for you, sir?”

Meryl swallowed nervously, unsure what Knives would do. However, Knives merely scrutinized the man before replying, his eyes narrowing.

“I require ammunition for two .45 Colts,” Knives stated.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Really? Well, you're in luck, then. We do have some rounds for that line of gun. I can get it for you if you want.”

“No, I will find it myself,” Knives said curtly before striding behind the counter into the back room.

Meryl exhaled slowly. That had ended better than she had expected. Feeling Sam's eyes on her, she stared back at him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Sam shrugged. “Well, since the men chasing Vash the Stampede wrecked my saloon, I decided to take up my old profession.”

“Why this, though?”

He rubbed his chin. “Well, I'm already familiar with it, and the only other gunsmith in town got out of here the first chance he got.”

Meryl looked down, scuffing her shoe on the floor. She knew why he, as well as so many others, had skipped town.

“Looks like the bruises on your neck are gone,” Sam observed.

“Yeah.”

“It also looks like you picked up a few more injuries as well,” he added, looking pointedly at the bandages Millie had wrapped around Meryl's many scrapes, as well as the new bruise on her cheek.

Meryl laughed nervously. “It's nothing.”

“You always were a terrible liar, Meryl,” he said, not unkindly. “I can guess what happened, consideing who your companion is.”

She stiffened. “You know Knives?”

“Knives? That's his name?” Sam asked. “That's a bit strange.” Cutting short her questioning remark, he said, “If you're asking whether I knew him before today, then no. But he does resemble Vash so I'm assuming they're related, brothers more than likely. Am I right?”

Meryl nodded wordlessly.

“I thought so. Of course, he certainly doesn't seem to be anything like Vash at all,” Sam grimaced.

Meryl blinked in surprise. “Wait, you've seen Vash? When?”

“He was getting drunk at the saloon before all the chaos started. He seemed really depressed,” Sam remarked.

Meryl's throat tightened. She had suspected as much, but everything had happened so fast that she had completely forgotten about that.

“What...what did he say?” Meryl asked hesitantly.

Sam smiled sadly. “A lot of things he should tell you himself. By the way, where is he?”

“He's...he's sick,” Meryl whispered.

Sam frowned. “What's wrong with him?”

“We...we don't know...”

“...I see...”

Both were silent for a moment. Meryl cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. “Anyway,” she said hoarsely, “we're leaving later today to get some help for him.”

Sam nodded absently. “Yes. That's good. Listen,” he said, glancing back at the door with what looked like unease, “take these.”

He reached into one of his pockets and drew out something clenched in his fist. Meryl leaned forward to see what he was holding. Nestled in the palm of his hand were two cyllindrical objects about the length of a person's pinky finger. Both were black. Meryl could not put her finger on it, but there was something eerie about them.

“Take them,” he insisted.

Meryl looked startled. “Why?”

“They might help you later.”

She took them, tucking them into her pocket, an uncertain look on her face. “What are they?”

“They came from the .45 Colts that Knives has,” Sam said, his voice low. “I have my suspicions what they're for.”

Meryl's eyes widened. “You mean they-”

“I see you two are getting along well,” a cold voice said.

Knives had emerged from the back room, holding several rounds of ammunition for the handguns. He looked from one to the other, and Meryl almost felt like bolting right there. However, Knives did not say anything to her. He merely set the items on the counter and looked at her expectantly.

“Oh! Right,” Meryl sputtered, feeling flustered.

After paying for their purchases, the two exited the building. As the went, Meryl was acutely aware of Sam's eyes on her back as she followed Knives out of the door. As it swung shut behind them, she sighed. This day was turning out to be more stressful than she had anticipated.

“What were you two talking about?” Knives asked, his words laced with suspicion.

Meryl raised her eyebrows. “I used to work for him. We were just catching up.”

Knives narowed his eyes. “Is that all?”

Struggling to ignore the frantic beating of her heart, Meryl replied, “Yes, that's it.”

Meryl began to walk more quickly and soon passed by Knives. She did not want him to discover the cyllinders, whatever they were. Luckily, he did not speak to her anymore as they walked back to the house in silence. There were still signs of people, but most hid when they saw the two of them coming. It was like walking through a ghost town.

When they arrived back at the house, Millie was already waiting for them outside. She waved and ran out to meet them. Then, she grabbed Meryl's arm and proceeded to drag the short woman back into the house, insisting that she had something special to show them.

“What is it, Millie?”

Sempai, I want to show you!” Millie squealed excitedly.

“Show me what?” Meryl huffed as Millie continued to push her through the door.

“Look!” Millie exclaimed proudly, pointing towards the couch.

Meryl gaped when she saw what was there. Her new overalls, which she had thought to be ruined for good, had been repaired and looked as good as new. Not only that, but the suit that Knives had been wearing the day Vash had returned had also been fixed.

“Millie, this is...amazing.”

Millie smiled proudly. “Thanks, Sempai! I've been working on Mr. Knives's suit for a while now, but I had to work extra hard and fast on yours today so it'd be ready for you when you leave,” she finished, her cheery voice faltering a bit near the end.

Meryl sighed and placed a hand on Millie's shoulder. “Thank you, Millie. They're great.”

Millie sniffed a little. “I'm glad you like them, Sempai.”

Knives strode past both women and picked up his garment, turning it this way and that, evaluating the quality. When he was done, he hung it over his forearm and made his way up the steps to his room.

“Mr. Knives, do you like it?”

He paused, his fingers twitching on the railing. “It will due,” Knives allowed before disappearing into his room.

Neither insurance girl said anything for a moment. Then, Millie noticed.

“Sempai, what happened to your face?”

Meryl winced. “Oh, that. Nothing. I'm fine.”

Millie frowned, an alien look on her innocent face. “Did Mr. Knives do this? If he did, I'll clobber him!” she exclaimed, rolling up her sleeves.

“No, no, no, no, NO!” Meryl whispered fiercely. “Don't do anything! He'll kill you! Do you understand?”

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing!” Meryl interrupted. “I can take care of myself! Besides,” she muttered, “I have to learn how to deal with him, anyway. I'll be alone with him and Vash for who knows how long.”

“Sempai...I'm going to miss you...”

Meryl smiled wanly. “I'll miss you, too. Listen, I'm going to go change. Did you pack up the truck we rented?”

Millie nodded, her head bowed and fists clenched. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

After handing Millie the purchases, Meryl quickly tiptoed up the stairs and slipped into Millie's room. There, she quickly abandoned her older, white uniform and donned the overalls Millie had worked so hard to mend. Then , grabbing the few essential belongings she had packed, Meryl went back down the stairs. No one was there, so she poked her head out the door.

Millie was loading up the truck with a few final items that Meryl, Vash, and Knives might need for the journey. Meanwhile, Knives was getting Vash all situated in the back, tucking him in amidst multiple blankets and sheets. Meryl sighed. Then, she handed her stuff to Millie, who promptly made room for everything.

When everything was ready, Meryl made to get into the driver's seat when Knives pushed her out of the way. She stared at him incredulously.

“You can drive?”

“Of course, I can drive,” he growled. “I have not been living under a rock for the past century!”

Meryl shook her head. “Ok. I'm going in the back with Vash.”

Knives's eye twitched. “What?”

“I'm not going to `corrupt' him if that's what you're worrying about,” Meryl said wryly. “Besides, someone has to look after him.”

Knives scowled but did not argue further. Meryl gave Millie a quick hug goodbye.

“Take care of yourself,” Meryl told her.

“I will! You do the same, Semapi!”

A grim smile twisted Meryl's lips. “Don't I always?”

Then, Meryl climbed into the backseat with Vash. Knives started the car, and not long after, Millie's diminishing form became a speck beyond the horizon.

 

 

Well, perhaps a boring chapter, but I assure you there was a plot point in there somewhere. I'll give a cookie to anyone who figures it out!

Knives: Child, tell me what you are planning!

Hmmm, let me think about that for a minute... Nope! -grins-

Knives: -scowls- Tell me!

Now why would I do that?

Knives: Because if you don't, I will-

Oh, please, Knivesy-poo, I think we've all learned by now that death threats don't work.

Knives: What did you just call me?

Knivesy-poo.

Knives: ARGH!

Kuroneko?

Kuroneko: NYAH! -latches onto Knives-

Knives: GET IT OFF!

Ah well, while Knives is occupied, review please! Don't forget the cookie prize! XD