Gentle Art of Making Enemies
Amelia's plan went south very quick. She was captured sneaking around the barn by a few of the O'Driscoll's boys. They dragged her to the middle of the property. There was no sparing her from being manhandled by the gang.
While they taunted and tugged at her clothes, the leader of the bunch told them to hold off their desire to humiliate her. "Hang her up reverse in the bull ring." He shouted to the bunch, "You try to steal from the O'Driscoll's, we'll make you pay proper!"
The men promptly obliged. It was a cruel form of torture. They strapped her ankles and pulled her up to a post. Her wrists were tied behind her back. They hung her upside-down. She twisted her head from side to side, keeping her captors in vision. She caught the attention of an enormous bull being led to the enclosure.
Inside the fenced mud ring, the bull began to run circles. The animal was showing its agitation by shaking its heads and swishing its tail.
The bull took notice of Amelia's body hanging from the post. It reared and snorted, tugging its front leg against the mud. As it lunged towards her, the immediate reaction was to curl into a crunch. She pulled herself upwards to avoid the oncoming hit. Eyes tightly shut, she held that position mid-air as the bull's horns collided with the post instead of her head. The force of the collision wobbled the post and Amelia with it. Her eyes still shut; breath held; she kept that position until the animal turned to do another round. She relaxed and fell back down, straighten her body as her head hit the post. She took three rapid breaths before pulling herself upwards once more, avoiding the collision. The animal reared back to the end of the ring and she came back down.
This would go on for a good few minutes. The gang riled around, urging the bull to be more aggressive and shouting in disappointment each time it avoided the collision with her. After an hour she was exhausted, so was the animal. The gang scattered to their duties, leaving her hanging upside-down.
It's not long that someone can survive hung in such a way. She felt herself becoming dizzy. Her mind was clouded and less inclined to keep her focused. She started to slip into a slumber. She jolted, regaining conciseness for a brief moment, the pressure was overwhelming. 'I can't let myself slip...' To keep herself awake, she began to hum a song.
Voice faint, she began to sing. "Well look way down the river-" She tried to remember the words to the soulful song she heard years ago, "What do you think I see? I see a band of angels and they're coming after me." She stopped for a minute to catch a breath before continuing, "But Gabriel don't you blow your trumpet 'til you hear it from me. Ain't no grave can hold my body down..." She fainted but came back to consciousness quick. She kept murmuring the song, repeating the hopeful verse until it was barely audible "Ain't no grave can hold my body down. Ain't no grave..." The singing stopped. Brain deprived of oxygen; Amelia felt herself slipping into another blackout. Her eyes opened then shut slowly, vision more blurred each time.
In the distance, she saw a figure approaching her. The way the light hit, only a large silhouette was visible. Her already impaired vision made it impossible to distinguish who this man was. He neared her at what seemed like an eternity, almost in slow motion until he finally stopped mere inches away. Slight panic formed in her as the man stood near, towering over her with an imposing muscular build. His hands were fit for strangling, she could tell that much. He could probably toss her with ease, she guessed. 'This be it.' She shut her eyes tightly. 'They sent this bear of a man to end me...'
His bulky hands grabbed both of her shoulders and lifted her lifeless body with ease as if she were made of cotton. A mere gasp escaped her lips at the sudden gesture. He pushed her upwards to rest her body on his own; propping her up this way so that with his free hand he was able to cut the rope tied to the ankles and then the one around the wrists. He let her go and she stumbled away from the stranger, leaning her body on the fence. She exhaled loudly, trying to regain some steady feet but slid down to the ground once more. Eyes wild, she dared to look up at the man who was still hidden in shadows from the bright sun behind.
He reached out to her and she anticipated the pain that would come soon, probably a lot of it too. She held her breath, shut her eyes, and prepped for the worst. Instead, she was greeted with a gentle tap to her face, the hand felt rough on her delicate cheek - not threating though.
The man was kneeling down at her level and that's when he became visible. The brims of his hat cast a shadow on his face, while the rest was covered with a dark bandana - fully concealing his identity. She caught a glimpse of the stranger's eyes; with little emotion in them, he stared at her. He had hoped to not intimidate the girl too much, but it wasn't obvious to her as she pushed all her body away from him.
"You 'wake Amelia?" Arthur asked, voice low and firm. He tried softening his tone as he sensed her apprehension, "I'm...I won't hurt ye."
Surprised at hearing her name from him, she looked at him once more. She swallowed a nervous knot that formed in her throat and asked, "Who are you?"
"I'm gonna help ye, now just lift yerself." He extended a hand towards her and all she could do is trust him no matter how ill-advised it seemed - perhaps he wouldn't hurt her. With much hesitance, she reached out and he grabbed her hand and it felt so strong; the hold was firm around her frail palm.
"Come now." He hoisted her up. "You can lean on me, hurry now, we gotta leave."
She pulled her hand away, feeling too vulnerable towards a stranger - her pride overtook her reason, "I don't need that kind of help." She protested quietly while catching her breath. "Who are you? I asked twice now."
Arthur responded with an ironic chuckle he said, "Mighty sharp tongue you have to someone who's tryin' to help."
A figure became visible in the corner of his eye. Before she could argue back, he placed a hand on her shoulder and lowered them both into hiding. He motioned to be quiet. At the same moment, a pair of scouting gang members made their way around near to where they were.
"We'll take a wide berth around them, come back to where I came from to my horse." He instructs, voice low and thick. Looking around once more, he says, "No noise or hustle, we get out without any trouble, you understand?"
"Sure, that's dandy, but where are you taking me, mister?" She hissed, objecting to the plan of escaping with the stranger, possibly putting herself into more danger.
"Back to your momma, Mary."
An 'oh' escaped her lips. He nudged her arm and indicated with his fingers 'two' pointing in both directions; Two guards on each side. One pair of men were resting with no care in the world, the other two turned to the lookout in the outskirt direction of the camp.
Amelia looked back at the direction of the barn where she knew the horses were kept. She noticed that there was a blind spot and low on her feet, she scurried towards the barn – the opposite direction Arthur had in mind.
"Hey, where are you off to?" He said rather loudly, trying to halt her.
"I got some unfinished business with them boys, come and help me."
He cursed under his breath, immensely regretting getting himself caught up in this mess. He grabbed her arm to stop her. "There ain't no time for this."
"I ain't leaving until I get back what them boys stole from me."
"If you keep making stupid moves you ain't leaving here at all." He hissed; his voice steady but growing in frustration.
"Look, it's just here." She whispered, pointing at the stable.
Amelia snuck to the bottom of the gate, peering above to see if anyone lingered inside. No one was there but the horses. A good lot of them too, full adult horses ready for sale. There were Flake and Gin, and the silver stallion she caught the other day with the yearling leaning onto it for its tiny dear life. The rest were fine nags too, all probably stolen.
Arthur stopped near her. "The horses?" This was risky, he noted. Then again, it wouldn't be like him to let up an opportunity to make the O'Driscoll's lives a living hell. That would be a joy on its own.
He tapped her shoulder while passing one of his guns to her. A Scofield revolver, one of a pair that he owned; dark metals and all, beautifully engraved in coppers too. "Hey kid, look at me." He grabbed her attention. "You know how to shoot?"
She examined the weapon and immediately nodded, trying to hide the inkling of doubt that resided in her expression - she couldn't shoot. He duly noted that there was hesitation on her behalf but proceeded to give the weapon anyway. Best keep her armed if this would work, all hell should break loose as soon as the horses are let free.
He observed the animals carefully, picking out their leader. He would mount the most confident of them all, and only that way would the rest of the herd cooperate. He eyed the silver stallion and noticed how most of the horses gravitated towards him.
He searched the barn for a lasso, rope of any sort, all the time low on his feet. He calms the horses that neighed at his presence as he walked around them, patting the uneasy ones, speaking softly to the younger one. Amelia admired his patient demeanor around the animals, how understanding he was. The same man she thought would strangle the life out of her - he was, surprisingly...gentle.
Most horses still had a halter around their faced, some had saddles too. Typical for the O'Driscolls to disregard another living being, god forbid they provide them with comfort. Cruel bastards but their negligence worked to his favor; he was able to loop the horses by their halters in a line using the rope he found. It was long enough to cover all seven animals.
"We aim to head in that direction there." Arthur pointed out the distance to where his horse was hitched. 'Now, how do I get seven horses out of here without being spotted?' He conjured up a plan. After careful consideration, he realized that unfortunately, there was no quiet way out of the hold-up. He scratched his chin, "Alright, you'll go first, stay beside the horse and use it as cover-"
"But the horses-"
He held up a hand to stop her, "They won't shoot their livestock, they got three hundred dollars 'least on them ponies, they'll shit themselves before letting Colm know they shot his paycheck." He walked to the back of the line of horses he formed. "I'll follow close behind so I'll be overlooking the whole mess and wranglin' them where they need to be going. When I give you a sign, mount that nag up front and ride, don't be looking back. Shoot when you need to."
Amelia walked to the front and spotted Gin in line, his ears pinned back clearly distressed. She approached him and he let out a low neigh at her presence, too startled to recognize her probably. She patted his neck.
"Alright then." He said with a slight sigh in his voice, mentally preparing for what will unfold. Arthur lifted his head to signal at the barn's gate.
Amelia nodded as she unhooked the metal bar holding it closed. She opened the door as swiftly and quietly as possible.
"Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey.
― Vera Nazarian
