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Arthur and Caleb dismounted near the tree line, pulling their bandanas up over their faces. Caleb checked his revolver, then his repeater, ensuring both were loaded and ready. "Keep sharp," Arthur muttered, crouching behind a thick oak. "If this goes bad, we'll need to move fast." Caleb nodded, settling into position. His heart pounded, but his hands were steady. He'd been in enough tight spots by now to know how to handle the rush of adrenaline.
Dutch, Hosea, Javier, and Charles ride their horse like they were tourists through the road of Strawberry passing through the gallows and Sheriff's office, circling around Strawberry first to truly look like tourists.
They could see that the town was still tense, deputies patrolling with rifles in hand, their eyes scanning every stranger with suspicion.
Hosea led the way, his expression that of a harmless old man. He got down from his horse and struck up a conversation with townsfolk, trying to dig some sort of information from him while Dutch and the others rode toward the Sheriff's office.
The sheriff's office was still cordoned off, a deputy standing guard outside. Micah's body had been moved to the undertaker's, but the law wasn't taking any chances.
Javier and Charles flanked the building, watching for any sign of trouble. Dutch, ever the showman, adjusted his coat and strode toward the deputy with an air of authority.
"Excuse me, son," Dutch said smoothly. "I'm looking for an associate of mine. Heard there was some trouble here yesterday."
The deputy eyed him warily. "Who are you, mister?"
Dutch chuckled. "No, no. Just a concerned citizen. My associate was in custody when he passed, and I was hoping to arrange for his… proper burial."
The deputy hesitated. "You mean Micah Bell?"
Dutch's expression darkened just slightly. "That's the one."
The deputy sighed. "Ain't no one claimed him yet. The body's at the undertaker's. But you'll need to speak with the sheriff first."
Dutch smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Of course."
Meanwhile, Caleb shifted his weight, the leaves rustling softly beneath his boots. He scanned the treeline opposite them, his Eagle Eye skill allowing him to pick out the slightest movements, the unnatural stillness of a hidden observer. Nothing. Yet.
Arthur, leaning against a thick oak, was equally watchful, his gaze sweeping across the open road and the buildings in the distance.
"Think they'll run into trouble?" Caleb finally murmured, breaking the silence.
Arthur shrugged, his eyes never leaving the road. "Hard to say. With Dutch talkin'? Always a chance."
The image of Micah's lifeless body, falling backward onto the ground of the prison, flashed through Caleb's mind. A violent end to a violent man. He felt no remorse, only a pragmatic understanding of the complications it had now created for them.
Another long stretch of silence. The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting dappled shadows through the leaves. Caleb checked his pocket watch, almost an hour had passed since Dutch and the others had entered Strawberry. The longer they were inside, the greater the risk.
Suddenly, a faint but distinct sound reached their ears, the unmistakable crack of a gunshot, followed by another, and then a rapid succession of fire.
"Damn it," Arthur hissed, pushing himself off the tree. "Something's gone wrong."
Caleb's heart pounded in his chest. He gripped his Lancaster repeater tighter, his senses on full alert. "Ready?"
"Born ready," Arthur replied, his Carbine repeater already drawn.
They moved swiftly and silently through the trees, positioning themselves at the edge of the treeline, overlooking the northern road into Strawberry. They could now hear shouting from within the town, the frantic barking of dogs, and the continued exchange of gunfire, though it sounded further in.
Then, they saw them. Dutch, Hosea, Javier, and Charles burst out of Strawberry on their horses, riding hard, their faces grim. On the back of Charles's horse was a body, which Caleb and Arthur it was Micah's body which at least they managed to retrieve.
They were being pursued by several mounted lawmen, their shouts echoing in the morning air.
"Cover them!" Arthur yelled, dropping to one knee and leveling his repeater.
Caleb did the same, sighting down the barrel of his Lancaster. He picked out the lead rider, a burly man with a shotgun, and squeezed the trigger. The repeater bucked against his shoulder, and the lawman grunted, clutching his chest before tumbling from his horse.
Arthur fired in quick succession, his shots finding their mark. One of the pursuing horses reared in pain, throwing its rider. The remaining lawmen hesitated for a crucial moment, giving Dutch and his group a precious few seconds to gain distance.
"Fall back!" Dutch roared, glancing over his shoulder. "Get to the rendezvous point!"
Caleb and Arthur continued to lay down covering fire as they retreated deeper into the trees, keeping pace with their fleeing companions. The lawmen, though initially aggressive, were now more cautious, and wary of the unseen shooters in the woods.
They whistled for their horses, then them mounting swiftly. "Rendezvous is the old cabin west of here," Arthur told to Caleb as they spurred their horses through the dense undergrowth.
The ride was a chaotic blur of trees and branches, the sounds of pursuit fading behind them. They eventually reached the dilapidated old cabin, a crumbling stone structure partially hidden by overgrown vegetation.
Dutch, Hosea, Javier, and Charles were already there, their horses heaving.
"You two are here good, I didn't expect the law in Strawberry to be so many for such a small town," Hosea said grimly, as he helped Charles ensure Micah's body which was wrapped in a cloth tied tightly.
"Damn fools must have had more guards than we expected," Dutch growled, his face a mask of fury. "Did you two see how many?"
"At least five or six came after you," Arthur replied, reloading his rifle. "Probably more still in town."
"Thanks to you two, we got out of there," Javier said, nodding his head in gratitude towards Caleb and Arthur.
"We need to move," Hosea said urgently, his voice strained as he finished ensuring Micah's body was covered and Charles put the body back on the horse. "They'll be tracking us."
"Agreed," Dutch said, his eyes hardening. "We head back to camp, best if we split up. Hosea, Javier, you two follow me, we will head south to Riggs Station and cross the Dakota River. Arthur, Caleb, Charles, you three returned back to camp through Cumberland Falls."
Everyone nodded in acknowledgment of Dutch's order. Without further words, the six of them split into the two groups as assigned. Caleb spurred Morgan into motion, riding at the forefront with Charles beside him and Arthur bringing up the rear.
The cool morning air rushed past their faces as they galloped northeast, following the rough road toward Wallace Station. The rhythmic drumming of hooves on dirt filled the air, punctuated now and then by the call of a hawk circling high above.
They passed the outskirts of Wallace Station without slowing, the small cluster of buildings and telegraph lines a blur in their periphery. The stationhands and people there barely gave them a glance, riders on the road were hardly an uncommon sight.
Beyond Wallace Station, they veered toward Cumberland Falls, aiming to cross the Dakota River at the shallows.
The tension was palpable, though none of them spoke at first.
Finally, from the back of the group, Arthur raised his voice just enough to carry over the thundering hooves. "Charles! What the hell happened back there? Why'd it all go to hell and turn into a goddamn shootout?"
Charles glanced sideways at Caleb before glancing back over his shoulder toward Arthur. "I don't know for sure," he called back. "Javier and I were covering Dutch outside of the sheriff's office. Dutch was talkin' to a deputy outside, then went in. We waited, kept an eye on the street… and then we heard the shots."
Arthur frowned. "Shots? Inside the office?"
Charles nodded grimly. "Yeah. When we busted in, Dutch had already shot the sheriff and that same deputy he was just talkin' with. Hosea came running up by then. Dutch grabbed us, and said we were takin' Micah's body and gettin' the hell out. We didn't have time to argue."
Caleb tightened his grip on the reins, his brows furrowing beneath his bandana. He hadn't expected that, not from Dutch, not yet. He'd always imagined that without Micah's poisonous influence, Dutch might have stayed sharp, careful, and controlled.
But here he was, already tipping over the edge, already losing patience, already making violent, reckless calls for the sake of ego or loyalty, he didn't know.
Arthur muttered under his breath, "I can't believe Dutch would go that far. Not without that bastard Micah whisperin' in his ear like in the ferry at Blackwater."
Charles shrugged slightly in the saddle. "You can ask Javier when we get back. But I saw it myself. Dutch shoot both men and from the looks of it didn't hesitate. As the guns of the Sheriff and deputy were still holstered."
Up front, Caleb spoke up, his voice level but laced with unease. "Charles is right. We can sort this all out back at camp, but right now, I'd rather we get there fast. The sooner we're back, the sooner we're rid of the stink of Micah's rottin' corpse."
His nose wrinkled slightly under his bandana. Even wrapped and tied, the smell of decay had begun to seep into the air, riding the breeze toward them.
Arthur gave a grunted acknowledgment. "Fair enough."
And so, the rest of the ride stretched out in silence, the only sounds the soft jingle of tack, the occasional snort from the horses, and the muffled splash when they crossed the shallow bend of the Dakota River at Cumberland Falls.
The spray of the falls misted them lightly as they passed, but none of them spoke, each man caught in his own thoughts.
For Caleb, the quiet ride was anything but peaceful. His mind turned over what Charles had said, what he'd witnessed, and what it all meant.
Could it be that Dutch's descent into paranoia, vanity, and violence had less to do with Micah than he'd believed? Was Dutch's own pride and craving for control the true rot at the gang's core, simply waiting for the right moment to surface?
He recalled Micah's fawning, his constant praises and affirmations, the way he'd fed Dutch's ego like a master stoking a fire.
Now that Micah was gone, perhaps Dutch wasn't unraveling because of grief or loyalty, but because there was no one left feeding that fire. Losing the one person who fed his worst instincts, was that making him worse, not better?
Caleb's stomach twisted. If Dutch was already slipping, then the gang was in more danger than he'd thought.
Arthur, riding quietly behind, seemed equally troubled. Caleb could almost feel the tension rolling off him in waves. Arthur had always believed, wanted to believe, that Dutch was fundamentally good, just misled.
But maybe, Caleb thought grimly, Dutch was already walking that dark road without no one noticing as the Outlaw life catching up on him, and Micah had only been the excuse.
They reached Horseshoe Overlook by late afternoon, the sun dipping low and casting golden light across the camp. The familiar sight of the wagons, tents, and campfires brought a small measure of relief, but it was short lived.
The moment they dismounted, several gang members rushed over. Abigail, Tilly, and Mary-Beth stared wide eyed at the cloth covered body tied to Charles's horse. Uncle scratched his head, muttering under his breath, and even Pearson emerged from his chuckwagon, apron smeared with grease, peering curiously. "What the hell happened?" Bill barked, pushing through the gathering crowd.
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 2)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 2)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 2)
- Poker (Lvl 1)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv1)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
Money: 731 dollars and 61 cents
Bank: 40 dollars, 2 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets