I saw John fall off the train, and I had no time to think, I just reacted. I calculated my jump, then dove from the train, trying to land as safely as possible. I hit the ground hard and rolled as far away from the train as I could. I struggled back to my feet and looked around.

"John?!" I called out, bullets whizzing by.

I ran and ducked behind a huge rock. I called out again, but I heard no reply. Suddenly there was a flash of white across my vision, then nothing.

After a while, my vision started to blur back in, and my head buzzed like a detuned radio. Through the static, my brain found a voice.

"Vela," it said, phasing into existence.

I realized I was moving, riding on a horse, being held up by someone.

"Vela, wake up," the voice said again.

It was a man's voice. It was John. John had me on a horse, one of the dead Pinkerton's horses, I imagined. I shook my head.

"John? I found you," I said, still trying to pull my head together.

He chuckled a little. "Well, I found you, I think. What happened to you? You okay?"

"I'm not sure. I saw you fall off the train, and I came to find you because no one else did. I saw Dutch tell the others to go on, but he didn't go back. He and Micah just ran," I said, running my hand over my head and locating a bump on the back. "One of the Pinkertons must have knocked me out and left me for dead."

"I appreciate you trying to find me. Abigail will appreciate it, too," John said.

He spurred the horse to a faster pace, and we hurried toward camp.

As we got closer, we could hear raised voices.

"This is gonna be bad," I said.

We got off the horse just down the hill from the camp, and John gave it a good slap and it darted off into the wild. Then he stormed with purpose toward the camp.

"Dutch!" John called out, cresting the hill just in front of me. "Dutch, you left me!"

As I followed him up, my eyes stopped on Arthur, who had his gun pointed at Micah, and Micah pointing his back.

"John?" Micah rhetorically questioned, stunned to see him again.

John stopped at the edge of the camp. "You left me to die!"

"I.. I didnt have a choice," Dutch said.

I followed right behind him, but I didnt stop with him at the edge of camp. I walked directly between Arthur and Micah and marched right up to Dutch. My rage overshadowed my better judgement.

"All this talk of loyalty, Dutch? Was this all part of your plan?!" I shouted. "All you ever wanted was money. We risked the skin on our backs for you! People died for you!"

I shoved him hard; the man was far larger than me, and he barely budged, but he got furious as I unrelentingly laid into him.

"Vela..." Arthur warned.

"You selfish prick! Everyone here could die and you wouldn't even flinch, so long as you had your money! Lenny, Kieran, Hosea-" I was cut off by another flash of white pain as Dutch's right hand shot out and connected with the right side of my face.

I fell back to the ground in a stunned silence, bringing my hand to my mouth, tasting blood. Sure enough, he split my lip open.

I stood up, fury rising alongside hurt and shock. This was not the same man I'd come to know over the last few months; we all saw it.

As I rose to my feet, John ran over to me.

"Dutch, have you lost your damn mind?!" Arthur shouted, gun still trained on Micah. "Vela, are you okay?"

"Fucking great.." I muttered, touching my mouth again and pulling back bloody fingers.

"All of you, pick your sides now, 'cause this is over," Arthur said, sadness that he couldn't hide seeping into the statement.

Dutch started to back away from us all. I spit a mouthful of blood on the ground he had been standing on, then John grabbed me and pulled me toward Arthur.

"All them years, Dutch.. For this snake?" Arthur grumbled.

"Oh, be quiet, cowpoke," Micah hissed. "Be quiet. You live in the clouds."

Mrs. Grimshaw stepped up next to Arthur, shotgun drawn and aimed at Micah.

"No," she said, defiantly. "You be quiet, Mr. Bell, and put down your gun."

I heard someone shout there were Pinkertons coming, and in that moment I watched Micah shoot Mrs. Grimshaw in the stomach. She cried out and fell to the ground; I ran to her side, but there was nothing I could do. I sat by her as she writhed, screaming in pain.

Dutch took the moment to brandish both his guns, pointing them wildly between us all. There was wildfire in his eyes.

"Now," he shouted. "-who amongst you is with me, and who is betrayin' me?!"

Bill and Javier slowly moved to Dutch's sides, along with Micah and his minions, pointing their guns in our direction.

"Bill, Javier... think for yourself," Arthur pleaded, never losing Micah in his gun's sights.

"He's lying," Micah hissed. "He's lying!"

Before our own firefight could break out, a voice hollered from the woods behind us: "Put your guns down!"

A shot rang out from the same direction. Pinkertons. Everyone that stood with Dutch ran toward the opposite side of camp from us, leaving John and Arthur and I to the Pinkertons as gunfire lit up the place. We quickly ducked into the caves, running fast but making sure we stayed together.

"I'll find you, Micah! I'll fucking find you!" I screamed across the camp, Arthur pulling me by the arm into the cave.

We ran hard through the darkness, twisting and turning through the tunnels, trying hard to lose our pursuers.

"Arthur, I know Abigail told you she knows where the money is. Should we take it on our way out?" John asked as we ran.

Arthur was silent for a moment as we started up a ladder.

"No," he said, finally. "As useful as it might be, I'm sure Dutch is going to come looking for it, and I don't want to give him any reason to come after you. I also don't think I want the reminder of it - of the fact that it meant more to him than we do."

We found our way out of the caves, followed by the shouting of the Pinkertons.

"Go, John. You run to your family, and you don't look back," Arthur said, shoving what cash he had in his satchel at him.

"Arthur, come with me. You can come with us," John pleaded.

Arthur looked at me, then back at John.

"I have things to do, John, and your family needs you. Maybe we'll meet again, brother," he said softly, putting his hand on John's shoulder.

John glanced at me, then back at Arthur, nodded, then he was gone.

"Come on, Vela. We've got to move," Arthur said, snapping back to a hurry.

We ran and ran, ducking and dodging, down the mountain and through the forest. We ran until we couldn't breathe anymore, and we ducked into an empty shack in the middle of the woods.

"Are we safe, Arthur? Do you think they'll find us?" I whispered, panicked.

"Just keep quiet and still, and hopefully they'll pass us by. We got a good head start through the caves, and I don't think they saw which way we went," he said quietly.

He slid closer to me and put his arm around me, and we waited.

I opened my eyes, waking up from apparently dozing off. The sun was now peeking through the cracks and holes of the shack. I was leaning fully onto Arthur, his arm still around me and my head on his shoulder. Arthur, ever vigilant, was still awake.

"Im sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

"Its fine," he replied gently. "It's been a long time. They're probably on the trail of Dutch and them, as there were more of them than us. Hopefully John got clear of 'em."

"I hope so," I agreed. "Think its safe for us to move?"

"I think it'd be a good idea," he said, standing up and offering me a hand.

I took it and stood to my feet.

"Arthur... I'm sorry for everything that's happened," I said, my gaze falling to the floor.

His rough hand came to my cheek, lifting my gaze to meet his pale blue eyes. "What's done is done. There's no going back now, and there's certainly no need for you to be sorry."

I could see the sadness behind his eyes, but I didn't say anything more. It was time to move on.