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Horses clomped through mud caked roads, and the scent of manure, tobacco, and smoke filled the air. He tied Morgan to the hitching post outside the bank and stepped inside. The interior was cool and clean, the walls lined with polished oak paneling. Behind the barred counter stood a middle-aged man in a vest, an eye monocle, and rolled sleeves.
"Morning, Mister," the banker said. "Need help with a deposit or a withdrawal?"
"Deposit to my savings accounts and I also want to deposit some valuables in my safety deposit box," Caleb replied, drawing the 300 dollar bills from his satchel and carefully placing in on the counter.
The banker whistled. "Well now… someone's been doing good business."
Caleb offered a polite smile. "Just good investments."
The clerk nodded and deposited 300 dollars into Caleb's savings account, adding to the $40 already there. And then led Caleb to the vault. Inside, Caleb unlocked his safety deposit box and added the two gold bars from last night's haul. He'd already stashed the other gold bars and golden nuggets he had here.
As he relocked the box, the clerk cleared his throat. "Interesting times, ain't they? Heard there was a train robbery at Scarlett Meadows last night."
Caleb kept his expression neutral. "That so?"
"Mm. Folks say it was professional. They stopped the train with an Oil wagon. No deaths, just a lot of missing valuables." The clerk chuckled. "Almost admire the efficiency, sadly, it poses a threat to us banks."
Caleb tipped his hat. "World's full of surprises."
After that, Caleb walked back outside, took in the sights of the town, the general store, the saloon, the stable, the gunsmith, and debated heading into the general store for some supplies or not.
It was at this time that he heard his name being called.
"Caleb!"
The familiar voice turned his head, and he looked to his left. Sure enough, walking toward him from the direction of the general store, was Jasper Granger. The boy, no, the young man now, wore a wide brimmed hat that had seen better days and a light, dust speckled jacket with sleeves rolled up.
His holster hung neatly at his side, his Cattlemam revolver resting within it. His step had more spring than before, more confidence too, and Caleb felt a genuine smile tug at his lips as he raised a hand in greeting.
"Morning, Jasper," Caleb said.
Jasper returned the smile. "When did you get back into town?"
"Just this morning," Caleb replied, adjusting the strap of his satchel. "Had a few things to drop off at the bank."
Jasper glanced at the building behind Caleb with a knowing grin. "Bank must like you real good. Anyway, I was hopin' to run into you."
"Oh?" Caleb arched a brow, hands resting casually on his belt.
"Yeah. I just wanted to let you know, I've been trainin'. Took my repeater out into the woods, been doing some proper hunting. Got enough meat and pelts to earn myself a little money. Bought some more ammo with it too. Didn't even need to ask Old Bob for extra coin."
Jasper's eyes shone with pride. "And workin' at the butcher stall? It's goin' real smooth now. I'm faster at slicin' and cleanin'. Old Bob even said I could manage the stall on my own sometimes."
Caleb chuckled warmly. "Sounds like you're becomin' a self sufficient man."
"I reckon I am," Jasper said, standing a little straighter. "And it's all thanks to you, Caleb. You helped me when no one else would. Took me in after I got outta that damned basement in Rhodes. Gave me a roof, money, and even advice. I owe you more than I could ever repay."
Caleb's smile softened. He patted Jasper on the shoulder with genuine pride. "Ain't no need to go gettin' sentimental on me now," he said with a small laugh. "I just did what my Pa and Ma would've wanted. Help a soul in need, especially one with the guts to keep goin' after all that."
Jasper looked down a moment, grateful and bashful in equal measure.
"But now that you're on your own two feet," Caleb added, "you ought to start thinkin' ahead. Hunting and butchering's a damn fine start, but the world's full of surprises. If you want to stay alive and stay ahead, you gotta broaden your outlook on this world."
Jasper tilted his head. "How you mean?"
"I mean," Caleb said, stepping to the side so they could walk together, "don't just stick to one thing. Ask around town. Lend a hand at the general store, sweep floors at the saloon, muck stalls at the stable, assist the doc or the gunsmith. You'll pick up bits and pieces, different skills, different knowledge. Might not seem like much at first, but when the world kicks you, havin' more tools in your kit gives you a better chance to kick it with the strap of his satchel."
Jasper blinked. "That… that's a lot. I'd be busy all the time."
"That's life, Jasper. Busy means you're alive." Caleb said with a grin. "But the more you learn, the more you're worth. Not just to others but to yourself."
Jasper fell quiet for a few paces, thoughtful. "Y'know, I think you're right. I never thought of it that way. All those jobs… they're pieces of the bigger part of my life, huh?"
"Exactly."
Of course, Caleb also had another reason, a selfish one. Jasper had potential. He was loyal, sharp, and had the fire of youth tempered by trauma and survival. Caleb saw in him not just a grateful kid but a future ally.
And if he was going to build his own circle, his own gang, of sorts, though not outlaws, he needed men like Jasper. People who'd stand with him when the Van der Linde gang eventually collapsed, as Caleb knew it inevitably would, one way or another, as the wild what time had come to an end slowly.
It wasn't just about protection or loyalty. It was about survival. Building something lasting in a world where most things crumbled.
"So," Jasper asked after a beat, "where you headin' now?"
Caleb glanced at the general store across the street. "Was thinkin' of stockin' up. Need ammo, maybe some canned goods, dry rations. You wanna tag along?"
"Sure thing," Jasper said eagerly.
The two crossed the street and stepped inside the general store. The bell above the door chimed gently as they entered. The scent of spices, leather, and faint molasses greeted them. Behind the counter stood Mr. Worth, reading a ledger.
"Ah, Caleb! Good day to you," McCallister greeted. "And you too, Jasper. Heard you've been bringin' in some fine deer and rabbit cuts for Old Bob."
Jasper beamed at the compliment while Caleb nodded. "Just need some supplies today. Ten cans of assorted food, rifle cartridges, revolver ammo, and some coffee."
"Right away," Mr. Worth said, bustling into the back.
As the storekeeper prepared the order, Caleb turned to Jasper. "How's your shooting, really?"
"I'm better than I was," Jasper admitted. "Still not fast like you. But I don't flinch anymore, and I'm gettin' used to lining up my shots. Shot a fox square in the head at thirty yards."
"Good," Caleb said. "Next time we go huntin', I'll show you how to snipe with a scope. I wanted to attach one on my rifle soon."
Jasper's eyes lit up.
Once the supplies were packed, Caleb paid the total, 10 dollars and 25 cents. He tucked the tins and cartridges into his satchel and thanked Mr. Worth. Jasper held the door open for him as they stepped back into the mid morning sun.
Caleb paused outside. His eyes scanned the horizon, past the bustle of wagons, gossiping women, and loitering men.
Jasper asked at this time. "You're… not thinkin' of leavin' town again, are you?"
"Not yet, I will stay in town couple of days or probably more," Caleb said with a smirk.
As they walked toward the hitching post in front of the bank to check on Morgan, Caleb's mind spun with plans. His bank stash was growing. His skills were sharpening. And now he had the beginnings of something more, someone to rely on who wasn't part of Dutch's gang.
One day, the gang would fall apart. Dutch was losing control slowly, and the cracks were showing. When that time came, Caleb didn't want to be caught holding nothing but a satchel and a revolver.
He wanted options. And Jasper? He was the first brick in that foundation.
After stepping out into the midday sun with his supplies in tow, Caleb and Jasper lingered for a moment by the hitching post, exchanging a few more words. Morgan, Caleb's horse, huffed lightly, her head swaying lazily as the two men chatted.
Jasper's face was beaming still, the pride of self-sufficiency new and intoxicating. It reminded Caleb of the first time he had earned money back in his old life, delivering pizza in high school. Funny how the feeling was universal across worlds.
"Well, I should get back to the stall," Jasper said, slapping his palm lightly against his thigh. "Old Bob'll think I've run off from town or somethin'."
Caleb smirked. "Don't want the old man chewing your ear off."
Jasper chuckled. "Nah. But I will start askin' around. Mr. Worth's a decent fella, I'll see if he needs someone sweepin' or storin' goods. If he doesn't, I'll try the saloon."
Caleb gave him a nod of approval. "That's the spirit. Keep buildin' that."
Jasper tipped his hat, then turned and jogged lightly down the road, calling out greetings to a couple of passersby as he went. Caleb watched him for a moment longer, an odd warmth in his chest.
A sense of pride, sure, but also investment. Jasper wasn't just another kid anymore, he was the first stone in something that could last. Something beyond gangs and gun smoke.
With that thought, Caleb turned and strode across the dusty road, stepping up the stairs to the Valentine Hotel. The clerk looked up from his register.
"Room still yours, Mr. Thorne?" the clerk asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah. Extend it for fifteen more days," Caleb replied, pulling out a folded wad of bills and peeling off 15 dollars.
The man nodded and stamped the ledger. "Done. Second floor, same room."
Caleb gave a dry chuckle and trudged upstairs.
The room greeted him like an old friend. Clean linens, a soft mattress, and a window that let in just enough light without blinding him. Compared to sleeping on the hard packed earth with just a bedroll under the stars or worse, in the gang's ever moving camps, this was luxury. He set his satchel down, locked the door, and took off his boots.
It didn't take long for the plush bed to lull him into a nap. The weight of the morning's thoughts, the comfortable room, and the slight ache in his muscles all combined into the perfect recipe for a short, deep rest.
A Little While Later
Caleb blinked his eyes open. The sun had barely shifted its position, but his body felt notably lighter. More relaxed. He stretched, hearing the pop of his shoulders and neck before sitting up with a low grunt.
He rummaged through his satchel and pulled out two canned food he had nought from the store, a meat and vegetable ones. With a quick flick of his knife, he opened it and used the same blade to eat. It wasn't the fanciest meal, but it was hearty, and warm enough after letting it rest on the windowsill where sunlight poured in.
As he ate, his mind turned back to earlier thoughts.
A side business. A real one.
He had funds, 721 dollars and 31 cents on him, 320 dollars in the bank, and more importantly, four gold bars, a stash of jewelry, and gold nuggets. He had Jasper, a loyal and capable ally.
With all that, he could realistically seed something stable, something lasting. Outlaw work was bloody, chaotic, and rarely ended well. Dutch's dreams were admirable but flawed, and Caleb knew that the gang's story would end eventually, even if Micah was out of the picture, as the wild west time also came to an end slowly.
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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: 716 dollars and 36 cents
Bank: 320 dollars, 4 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets