Chapter 118 - Invisible Strings

“We’re getting close, now,” Mimi announced. “I can feel it.”

Beretta could hardly contain herself. After days spent apart, she would finally be reunited with her father and the others! Her anger toward Mimi had dwindled since the start of their transcontinental train ride, of course, but she still had no interest in being under the older girl’s care any longer.

“About time,” Luca sighed, straightening up in his seat. “Too much further and we’d have hit the west coast!”

“Beretta, be a dear and see if you can wave down that trainee from earlier, would you?” Mimi asked. “Tell him to inform the conductor that we wish to disembark.”

She nodded and slid the compartment door open, making her way out into the plush, peaceful atmosphere of the passenger car. Where is that boy? she thought to herself, glancing to and fro. He has not come around since we asked about breakfast…

The girl walked the length of the car, peeking around corners and into neighboring compartments in an effort to track him down. Fortunately, she came up empty; after a thorough search, she concluded that she and her friends were the only ones present in their segment of the train.

…Which meant she had a golden opportunity to explore!

She skipped right up to the western door, suspecting that she’d have more luck finding staffpeople toward the front of the train. It was tempting to go back and bother the stowaway, Gio, again, but she had a feeling he’d be less receptive to her presence this time. Besides, the promise of seeing everyone again was too exciting to ignore! With that in mind, she hopped the gap between her car and the next, determined to locate their attendant as quickly as she could.

The adjacent railcar turned out to be empty, too, so she carried on through to the next. It was there that she finally came across the boy she was searching for, bundled in blankets with his head propped up on a pile of pillows. He lay on the cushioned bench of one of the less opulent cars, clearly injured, though she couldn’t see his wounds beneath the covers.

Beretta’s heart went out to him immediately, but something told her to withhold Drizzle’s healing powers for now. Instead, she approached quietly and knelt at his side, frowning at the sight of sweat building on his brow. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“You…” he murmured, opening his right eye a crack. “I’ll be fine. Go back to your seat.”

She shook her head stubbornly. “No. Mimi told me to make sure the conductor stops the train, and that is what I am going to do.”

“I see,” he replied. His eye fluttered shut again, brow creasing in a clear show of annoyance. “In that case, continue to the engine room. Knock, but do not enter. It can be… Rrgh, d-dangerous in there…”

“Are you sure you are alright?”

“Yes. Now go away,” he said. “Sorry about the food. I got… Distracted.”

“It is no problem,” she assured him, rising to her feet. “Feel better, okay?” Reluctantly, she turned and continued on her way, still half-tempted to heal him despite her suspicions about the staff. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? If she refused to help him based on nothing but a hunch and the words of a stranger, what did that say about her?

She was still wrestling with the morality of it all when she arrived before the locomotive’s big steel door. As instructed, she rapped three times, then waited patiently until the first attendant they’d met–Mr. DeVipersmuth–opened the door a crack.

“Yeah, what?”

“Ah, uhm… Sorry to bother you, Mr. DeVipersmuth,” she stammered, “but my friends and I are ready to get off now. Could you stop the train?”

He blinked at first. Then, slowly but surely, a look of realization dawned on his face. “Oh! Oh, yeah! Totally! Absolutely!” he exclaimed. “That’s great news! Could you, like, go wait by the doors or something? That way, you’ll be able to lead u–I-I mean, get to your friends as fast as possible once we’ve stopped!”

Beretta’s eyes narrowed. Something wasn’t quite right. She didn’t remember anyone mentioning their friends when she, Mimi, and Luca were boarding the train, or when they were talking to Mr. Montrevi. So how did Mr. DeVipersmuth know about them? While she was pondering this, a chill shot up her spine as she came to realize one more thing:

Mr. DeVipersmuth was missing his mustache.

“Mr. DeVipersmuth,” she said, “What happened to your mustache?”

All at once, she saw the color drain from his cheeks. A long silence ensued, punctuated only by the rumbling of wheels beneath their feet. Then:

“I, uh, shaved it off! Bye!”

The door slammed shut in her face, leaving her blinking on the locomotive’s tiny stoop. Before she could even fully process what had happened, the girl heard an otherworldly screech from below–the sound of the brakes kicking in. Imposter or not, the train attendant had been true to his word. They were stopping! And that meant…

Beretta turned on her heel and charged through the train, skidding to a stop at the first set of doors she came across. Breathless with excitement, she couldn’t even bring herself to revisit the compartment and tell Mimi and Luca the good news; the prospect of seeing her father again was just too amazing to resist! The moment the train ground to a complete stop, she thrust open the doors and hopped out onto the dusty ground.

They’d missed the nearby platform by several hundred feet, but she didn’t care. They were close enough to the area’s only distinguishing feature–a big, walled city churning out oily black clouds–that she didn’t have to waste any time guessing at where her friends had gone. She smiled and streaked toward it without missing a beat, sprinting across the wide, flat plain as fast as her little legs could carry her. As she drew closer, the figures at the city gates became more distinct. A flash of pink here, a shock of white there…

…And, of course, a dash of cream–the exact hue of the shirt her father had been wearing when she saw him last.

The sight of him filled her with boundless energy. She covered the final stretch of ground between them in what felt like a millisecond, then threw herself at his back, arms reaching out to squeeze around his middle. Finally, they were back together again! Finally–

“ARGH!” he shouted, tossing something to the ground in obvious frustration. “I almost had it!” He wheeled on her in an instant, face flushed and nostrils flaring…

Until he realized who it was standing before him. “Beretta!!” He sank to his knees and cuddled her close, tears leaking openly from the corners of his eyes. “I can hardly believe it! But… How? I thought Mimi was taking care of you in Trigger City?”

“She was,” she answered, voice muffled by his shirtsleeve, “but after she finished Gunsmithing, she wanted to show Roulette what she had done. So she got a rich man to let us use his train.”

“How?” Roulette asked, drifting over from her place by the city gates. Before Beretta could answer, though, the older girl smiled and shook her head. “Y’know what? I don’t even want to know. I’m glad you’re back with us, Berry.”

“Me too!” Morgan called. He was lying flat on his belly nearby, fiddling with something complicated she couldn’t quite see. “Can’t talk much just now. But it’s good to have you back, kid.”

“Oh! Berry!” Roulette suddenly exclaimed, “There’s somebody I want you to meet. Can I borrow her for a second, Marka?”

Her father nodded, loosened his grip, and rose to his full height, smiling down at her from beneath his overgrown mustache. From there, Roulette took her by the shoulders and guided her toward a weathered-looking woman sitting some distance away. She was looking about frantically, as if she’d lost something, and Beretta could tell that the mangled state of her legs was clearly impeding the search.

“Beretta, this is Catastrophe Joan,” Roulette said with a smile. “The hero of those radio dramas we like to listen to… And also my mother.”

“WHAT?!” Beretta nearly toppled over from the shock. Catastrophe Joan? Here? Roulette’s mother?! It was almost too thrilling to bear. “I… I am so happy to meet you, Miss Joan!” she squeaked. “Y-You look hurt! Can I help?”

“Nevermind that,” the old woman snapped. “That pencil-pushin’ desk witch turned my gun into a damn hamster, and now I’ve gone and lost it! Unless you can–”

Beretta knelt down and pulled Drizzle from her pocket, spritzing a generous helping of its healing waters all over the woman’s lower body. Within seconds, the waters began to work their magic, resetting bones and knitting flesh back together until–miraculously–Joan’s legs were whole again. With a low whistle and a widening of her eyes, she stumbled to her feet, looking down at Beretta in awe.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she breathed. “Never had much interest in the idea of a sidekick, but you and that little pistol of yours have got me thinkin’ twice.”

The girl beamed up at her, happy beyond words to have been of use to her idol. Before she could speak up again, though, she saw Joan’s eyes flick to the south. “Oh, hey! If it ain’t my old resistance buddy!” she laughed, breaking into a jog.

Beretta turned her head to see Mimi and Luca approaching. To her surprise, Joan ran up and clapped Luca on the shoulder, prompting a look of confusion from both of them. “How the hell are ya, Luca? I thought for sure the big boss would’ve rubbed you out in the purge!”

He looked at her blankly. “Do I know you?”

“Sure you do! I–”

A series of gunshots rang out, echoing across the empty plain. The girl looked on in horror as bullet after bullet ripped through Joan’s torso, leaving a constellation of exit wounds behind. It was only after the woman had crumpled to the ground that she was able to identify the cause:

A handgun–a real handgun–clenched tightly in Luca’s fist.