Author's Note: Hello and welcome to my first RDR Fanfic! I hope you enjoy.
Prologue
The sun burned down onto the town of Armadillo and its civilians. Sweat covered every laboring man, woman and child. There was no shadow to hide under and no wind to stand in. It was only still and hot. The heavy hooves of horses stomped the dirt along the path and drew dust into the air. Over near the saloon, drunken men hung around the doors and stairs, clinking their bottles and spurs in unspoken celebration. The whores of Armadillo hung around them, primarily seeking their business. Young children chased each other playfully over near the school house as they were being watched by an aware woman who was their teacher. Working men and women walked up and down the road throughout Armadillo, buckets or working tools was hung upon their personage.
Today was generally quiet in Armadillo. The Marshals hadn't been that busy, but there was always work to do. There hadn't been many criminals, although, there was the usual fight or two. Everybody hoped that a fight would be the only crime to worry about. But, they could never be too sure. They were always on their guard.
A tall man in working slacks, a dirty white shirt and old chewed boots, faltered into one of the alleyways of Armadillo. He fell back, feeling the stability of a slate wall. He sighed in exhaustion. He was covered in sweat from the hard labor he had to endure in the draining heat of day. Sweat trickled down through his matted black hair, and trailed thoroughly down to his stubbly chin.
He drew his roughened hand into a pocket, drawing out a cigarette and lit it with a quick match. He drew in the sweet aroma of the cigarette and let it hang from his mouth as he put the match out with a quick flick of his wrist. He felt tranquil and relaxed for the first time since dawn. It felt great to have a break from tending the new stubborn mustangs.
Then, all of a sudden, he became alarmed as a quick feminine figure jumped in front of him. He analyzed her when everything came into focus.
It was a woman. She was tall, slim and young. Her brown luxurious hair tied up in a bun, her bangs curled down her cheeks. She was dressed in a white blouse with a brown jacket, brown trousers and blackened leather boots. Her face was masked by a bandanna, even her eyes were shadowed. A pistol was being aimed at him with a steady hand.
"Give me your money!" She ordered with a harsh, slightly countrified tone, and adjusted the pistol with a ready trigger finger.
"Ah!" The man yelped, letting the cigarette drop to the dirt. He of course, being a stable boy was unarmed. He was defenseless. There was only one thing he could do. "Sheriff!-" He called, but was stopped.
The woman stepped forward and narrowed her eyes in warning. "You keep your voice down, ya hear?!" She barked. There was an obvious caution of being caught within her. "No need to cause a ruckus."
The woman stepped forward again in warning, and reloaded the pistol with a click. The man gulped and his eyes became wide in helplessness.
"Please, I have a wife and child. I'm very poor. Please." He pleaded, prying his hands together in a praying motion.
The woman relaxed her fire arm slightly with a disguised look of sympathy. "We all have a family, mister," she muttered in a calm tone. She kept the soft side of her limited and quickly snapped back into robbing him. Her voice became quite harsh. "Now, if you ever want to see them again, I advise you hand over your money before I shoot you!" She threatened, aiming the pistol straight at him.
The man cowered in fear of being shot. "Okay!" He gave in, drawing quivering hands into his pockets and bringing out a few dollars. The woman snatched it off of him, stuffing it into her pockets. "That's all I have," he muttered with an unnatural quietness in his voice.
The woman growled in warning and backed off, rushing away. Until, she stopped in alarm as someone called out.
"Sheriff!" The voice of a man called.
She swiftly turned, her gun ready to fire. She was expecting it to be the man she had robbed, but he was still cowering in shock. It had appeared that another man had seen the whole thing and was now running off to the sheriff's office. She couldn't do anything. Fear and alarm over come her.
She couldn't stay in Armadillo any longer. She turned abruptly and whistled for her horse. A paint mare soon came to her rescue as it galloped swiftly to her aid. Its clambering hooves bashed the dust of the path and dead shrubbery of the old west. The horse came to a stop in front of her. She mounted the mare swiftly and wasted no time. She spurred her horse, and off they went into the distance.
Her crimes will pay her dearly in ways she didn't see coming.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading the prologue! I hope you enjoyed. I will update soon. Please review. Thanks.