My Gun, Part 2

The Ox Snake was the only free ride they never went on. Notorious for its dangerous construction, the indoor coaster made most its profits off a gift shop selling shirts to tell people you “survived” it, among other trinkets. You didn’t have to go on it to buy one of these, mind you, but they weren’t here to shop.

Inside a massive artificial mountain, they waited in line, and after building up a nervous shiver, both of them stepped on. Saint almost didn’t make it- an inch shorter and they wouldn’t even have let him on.

The two didn’t take risks. That was their motto, right next to don’t waste cash. So this was supposed to be a special day, just for Saint. Just to calm him down. Just so he could feel like a normal boy for at least one day in the relentless life these two were forced to live.

He wasn’t as scared as his elder was, even putting his hands up at the apex. The ride was working fine. This was Kidneyland, for god’s sake. Even the sketchy parts had to be up to some standard of quality.

They were both scared shitless when the cart descended, but that was to be expected. The whole ride was a struggle, but not a life-or-death one. It was refreshing, in that way. Curving through the inside of the mountain, they found themselves enjoying this.

“T-this is fun, Saint!”

Saint was so excited he couldn’t even respond.

“Saint?”

The gunslinger turned. Actually, Saint wasn’t even there.

“SAINT!”

Behind the desperate sibling he laid helpless on the track, thrown from his harness and injured- quickly shrinking into the distance as they left and the next car approached to end his life in an instant.

Within a second the atmosphere dropped from excited collective joy with the other riders to complete solitary desolation as only the boy’s closest ally had the lack of self-preservation to save him.

Struggling to break free, the lone shooter became a rabid animal. Jumping past the riders. Risking snagging a limb anywhere and everywhere. As the haunted, screaming sibling finally flew off the cart, unpredictably landing somewhere behind in a terrible crash, anyone could hear the encroaching rumble in the near distance.

ChugchugchugchugCHUG

It came down like a falling meteor, inevitably and fatally. The hopeless gunslinger ascertained the nearby surroundings- barely hanging on to the very side of the rail, not even lying on the track like Saint was. In that moment, there was no choice but to pull yourself up with all the strength you had, and that’s what the shooter did. Running straight for the beloved child, the one who didn’t deserve this, the one who never asked for any of this- the shooter saw the shadow.

The front of the second cart, hurtling towards them in an instant.

Death was certain.

The gunslinger didn’t have enough in life to fear it.

Scooping up his limp body and tossing him down onto the display just off the track, the jump that savior made was little more than an instinct. One they couldn’t blot out, no matter how hard they tried.

When Saint awoke, his caretaker was crying again, and they were outside.

In the gift shop, all the staff were apologizing.

It shouldn’t have been enough. It wasn’t appropriate for what they’d just suffered. It was almost an insult.

But weak and poor as he was, the little boy felt like he was a king.

“Pick out whatever you want.”

The owner’s words made him really, really happy for a second.

New clothes, maybe? Candy? He never got candy. How long could candy last as a meal? Could he get a new toy for once? Or maybe he’d better just get the shirt saying he survived, since he quite literally did. For one of the few times in his short life, the kid was caught up in fun and excitement like you were supposed to be in this world.

Then he saw his petrified sibling.

Unblinking, unthinking. He was terrified that the gunslinger would never be the same again.

“I’ll have this, sir.”

He held the long thing to the counter and was given it right away. When he ran to his sibling, the elder finally reacted- looking up at him, a slight smile was given. Happiness that he was alive.

“Here.”

It wasn’t plastic, rather… metal, and cheap wood was used… even in its shoddy construction, it resembled one. A rifle.

“I thought you could use a toy…”

The first words to come out of the shooter’s mouth were so agonizingly quiet he had to almost guess at what they were. It wasn’t hard.

“No. That’s… yours.”

“Big Bro, you… could’ve died.”

It hurt when he said it out loud. He didn’t expect a reply, but when those lips finally opened, it felt like he was well and truly talking to his sibling for the very first time.

“It’s… so hard. There’s so much in my head, I can hardly focus on the present. But I… have to protect you. And that’s why I’ll keep fighting, even in this state. …I can’t think about those things right now. I have to fight.”

“Don’t fight forever. Please.”

Saint’s words brought a silence, breaking the elder’s stoicism.

“I have to think… about what to do now… that I’m still alive.”

He initiated a hug. They tightly held one another until the crowds cleared.

That night, in the cheapest room you could find in Eagle Frontier, the gunslinger tried desperately to sleep.

All of life was a nightmare, and the truth was terrifying. Doing what you wanted was a weakness, and everything was designed to hurt you.

But still…

If being alive was gonna be the way things were, there was only one choice to make.

She cradled her rifle tightly, and decided to live for herself.