The Turning Point
"Are you sure they're here?"
"Yeah. They always are."
The two children climbed off the tall horse, first Jack then Caroline stumbling behind. They had approached an abandoned shack, it appeared to had been built maybe 30 years in advanced. It's roof was about to collapse and the wood used as walls seemed to be near rotting from the harsh weathering of the area. The gang sometimes used it as a place to regroup if ever separated, but right then it seemed to be deserted. Jack was the first to step through the empty doorway, Caroline once again stuttering to follow through the door. She waited a few moment's before entering.
Inside, Jack could see his mother leaned over in a chair next to a cot against the wall. He was relieved to find John passed out on the makeshift bed but slightly worried as to the state of his health. The creaks of the floorboard sounded, alerting Abigail to lift her face from her palms,
"Jack." She whispered his name, rushing over to embrace him, " Thank God." She pulled away, still keeping her hands on his shoulders to look him in the eye, " Where's your sister?"
Caroline stepped through the door, her expression seemed less than thrilled,
"There's my baby…"
"Momma." She moaned as her mother embraced her. The reunion felt less than joyful for Caroline. She tilted her head to examined the man who laid in the cot on the other side of the small room. He appeared to be breathing, allowing her to sigh in relief but also annoyance. She hated to admit it, but she never really loved her father the way a daughter should, and it wouldn't be such a grave loss to her if he were to die. Although, she wouldn't go as far as to truly wish his death would come sooner than later.
"Is he okay?"
"Yeah, he's just sleeping. He ain't all that healthy but… he didn't manage to go and get himself killed." Caroline nodded. Still neutral as to what she even wanted in the first place, she accepted the situation for what it was. John had nearly been killed. Leaving his wife, the gang's resident whore, with his two young children left susceptible to fate and the elements of nature.
She forced herself to take a step in his direction, making her way towards the cot against the other wall. She stood over the unconscious body of her father, inspecting him with a less than pleased expression. He appeared dead, his grey button up shirt drenched with blood from a bullet hole. This was no foreign sight to her though, only a trigger of many scarring experiences during her stay with a notorious gang of Outlaws. When breaking the law, there were bound to be plenty of bullet wounds. Most of which were not properly cared for. It would probably be best to get a Doctor, but there was no chance of that considering the events having just taken place.
A moaning noise escaped the lips of the unconscious man, startling Caroline to jump. Abigail rushed over to pull her back, a safe distance from the man. John sat up, groaning in pain from the bullet wound. His gaze fell to inspect his bloody shirt. Discontent filled his eyes, as if he had hoped all of today's events were just a dream. He lifted his eyes to see his family, his true family. Former discontent evolved into sorrow as he observed his daughter's terrified expression,
"Jack, Caroline… I'm sorry you had to see this." The three of them stood in silence, too filled with shock and sorrow to come up with a response, "Jack…"
Jack walked past his mother and sister, to stand by the cot where his father laid. John placed his hand on the top of his son's head, "What would you say if your mother and I decided to take a… vacation from Dutch, Bill,…" Abigail shot him a look to avoid the use of the inappropriate word. Family. For they no longer would be considered as such. Caroline lifted her head to look at her mothers,
"What's a vacation?" Her voice spoke so innocently, so polite to her mother. Abigail brushed her dark hair out of her daughter's face,
"We're just goin' away for a while."
"Where?"
"We ain't exactly sure yet but…"
"Momma, you and Pa are actin' weird. What's goin on?"
"This is." John dropped his hand from his son's head, shifting his eyes to look to his small daughter, " We're gonna go start a farm some where, and there ain't gonna be any more shooting or hurting people. No more robbing, or cheating, or…"
"Other. Bad things." Abigail finished.
"Right. It's all over." John reached out to take the hand of his daughter. His eyes filled with genuine sympathy for the innocent girl, " Is that clear, Darlin?"
Caroline's expression had dramatically changed in the last few moments. Coming into the room, she had no idea that her wish was about to come true. There was to be no more hurting people. Her neutral and shocked face instantly turned to over joy at the thought of being able to leave such a horrible life. She threw herself to hug her father around the neck, completely forgetting his wound. He grunted, ignoring the fact of pain to pat his daughter on the back. Things were going to be different.
