Hey guys! Santo here with another chapter! Enjoy! And please make comments, suggestions, and everything else! :)

Chapter II - Foundations of Criminality

Days had passed. Each individual person on the train in New Austin symbolized a family that now wept over a deceased relative. The tunnel had caved. Bodies would not be recovered for a long time. Already, posses were being assembled within every settlement in New Austin. Husbands, fathers, sons, brothers, friends. But what was the use? The Marston Gang had not been caught yet. They had managed to maneuver themselves through every obstacle they'd encountered thus far. Yet the people's quest for revenge was greater now than it had ever been before.

With the dawn of December, the climate only grew colder. The air became dry and was beginning to collect its moisture from the rivers and lakes. Soon enough, this moisture would convert into snow, and the brutal winter season would pound the civilians of both New Austin and West Elizabeth.

A thin layer of fog had spread over Lake Don Julio. The moon's illumination of the night could not be seen. It was cold. It was dark. It was silent. The cabin that sat upon the edge of the lake was the only place of life in the region. Three men on horseback galloped down the hill that led to the building. At the head of the trio - Jack Marston. His brown eyes blended with the darkness of the night. Yet each individual bullet in his bandolier shined, along with his spurs which chinked against the torso of his American Standardbred horse. His bold scowl was enhanced by his thin mustache, soul patch, and long sideburns. Jack still knew emotion and empathy, yet not much of it. His mother, his father, his beloved sister - all dead, buried, and lost forever in the waves of history. A piece of his old self still remained deep inside, crying desperately to escape. But Jack's depression and lack of social skills kept that old personality imprisoned.

Behind Jack - Jacinto Ladrones. Jacinto, a man who sacrificed everything he had for the Mexican Revolution. Jacinto, a man who lost his wife and newborn daughter to the soldiers of Agustin Allende. Jacinto, a man who was betrayed by the sole leader of the rebellion - Abraham Reyes. Ladrones vowed revenge on this new "revolutionary" Mexican president who had been corrupted by power. President Reyes was no better than the Devil in his eyes. Every life lost in the revolution was lost for nothing. Reyes ruled with the same ideals as his predecessor, Ignacio Sanchez. Only two passions remained in Jacinto's heart; his loyalty towards Jack Marston, and his urge to evoke revenge upon President Abraham Reyes of Mexico.

Jacinto's face had been locked into a grimace ever since he fled his country for the United States. His past had washed all emotion from his eyes. They were like stones - dark and lifeless. His face remained but a shadow beneath his sombrero in the night.

Riding at the back - Isaac Cain. He was seemingly placed on the earth only to cause chaos and utter mayhem. Cain was born into wealth and was raised like a prince. He had no reason or driving force behind his complete brutality. A loving mother, a caring and hard-working father, and an endless supply of servants to obey his family's every command. Cain became tangled into the world of sin far earlier than anyone could imagine. Theft, smuggling, alcohol, sex - all of it slowly pushed him away from his life of regality. The young Isaac fled his family's estate in Massachusetts at age eighteen. His unnatural talent in the ways of the gunslinger earned him a place in the dying West. It earned him a place in the Marston Gang.

His dark gray eyes symbolized all the madness the world could capacitate. His handsome features - high cheekbones, thick dark hair, straight snow-white teeth - fit his arrogant persona like a puzzle piece.

They reared their horses before the cabin. The beasts' whinnies were answered by a cold gust of wind from the lake. In a few moments, the steeds were hitched. Nodding to his companions, Jack approached the cabin's door. He was followed closely by Jacinto and Isaac. Their spurs chinked with every step.

Jack threw the door open. The three stepped inside. The cabin was weakly lit by a few candles scattered about the tables and dressers, yet it remained generally dark. The room was organized in every way. It was symmetrical. Rifles, game trophies, and paintings hung perfectly level on the walls. Equal amounts of furniture had been placed on each side of the room. The sheets on the bed were perfectly smoothed. To move one object would upset the balance of the cabin's entire atmosphere.

"I expected you to arrive sooner." a voice murmured from the shadowed back of the room. The voice was deep, monotonic, and possessed a raspy sound. But it was quiet and almost difficult to understand.

"Your expectations were too high." Jack quickly responded. He tossed a sack onto the table. Small stacks of money poured out of it as it landed. "Your cut."

The man sitting at the table leaned forward, partly revealing his face which was still halfway concealed by his hat and the shadows. He had the facial structure of an ape. And his thick, graying mustache partially covered his upper lip. Braxton Bell - New Austin's most notorious overseer of crime. He supplied arms to over 50 criminal gangs in the West (including the Marston Gang), and had connections with the provincial governor of Nuevo Paraiso, Bernardo Mendoza. "Fifty percent?" came his low, monotonic voice.

"Twenty-five." Jack replied firmly. "You lied. You promised there'd be no civilians onboard the train."

Braxton frowned. His bright blue eyes now shined in the light of the candles. They were ablaze. "I gave you the plan." he snarled. "You carried it out. It is quite simple, really. Without a plan, there is no job. Without the job, the plan is useless. Fifty-fifty."

"Yeah, well now we've got every posse in the fucking state on our asses!" Isaac snapped.

Braxton leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on his slim chest. "Gentlemen, I don't ask much of you. I give you the plans, I supply you with the weapons, and I promise you my protection. All I ask from you in return is fifty percent of the profit."

"You lied." Jack repeated. "And that last plan of yours was sloppy! Anythin' coulda happened!"

"But you got the job done." the man shot back. "And that's all that matters. The tunnel caved when you detonated the dynamite. It buried every bit of evidence that damned Bureau could've found. The posses will die away eventually. Now…I want my cut."

Jack reluctantly complied after a moment of silence - a moment of resistance. As a second portion of money was laid out on the table, a sly grin appeared on Braxton's aging face. "That was our last job." Jack murmured. "We came here to cut ties for good. We're done."

Marston turned to leave with his two angered comrades. He barely had time to open the door before the clicking of a revolver's hammer stopped him. "I wouldn't do that if I was you." came Braxton's silky voice.

Jack spun around, along with Jacinto and Isaac, to find Bell's gun barrel pointed in their direction. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I'm the king of this fuckin' state!" Braxton replied. He was raising his voice - a rare occurrence. "People don't just walk away from me. They serve me for life. You and your two friends here pledged your eternal allegiance to me the second you agreed to the first job."

Isaac had his Schofield revolver drawn in a mere second. "Fuck you."

"Isaac!" Jack exclaimed. Jacinto grabbed Isaac's arm and forcefully lowered the gun.

"No, fuck you, you little shit." Braxton growled at Isaac. "What? You think you'll just walk away from here after killin' me? You think nothin' will happen? You'll just continue to live your bullshit lives while I rot in a grave? You kill me, and you've got every gang in the West on your asses. The three of ya are mine."

"We are no dogs." Jacinto cut in. It was the first time he had spoken throughout the entire ordeal.

"You sure as shit are. And I'll have all of ya butchered if I suspect somethin' like this will happen again. Now…get the fuck out of here."

Reluctantly, the trio complied. It was humiliating. It was degrading. But what were they to do?

The Marston Gang was about to encounter a conflict that would alter their lives forever.