John walked upstairs into the hotel building where a Professor Harold MacDougal currently stayed, he was a harmless man but he was simple-minded despite having studied at Yale University and studying the simple-minded savages. However, this wasn't John's business and he did his best to just stay out of it, he was not the most intelligent man but he wasn't a racist man. He had been on both ends of the totem pole in his life, there were times when he was on top of the world and was treated like royalty, and there were times where he was treated like dirt beneath someone's feet. So he made it a point not to make anyone feel the way he did. Walking inside to the hotel room, the Professor had basically made into a studio apartment.
"Incredible. Simply incredible." The professor said with excitement as he looked through a microscope.
"Hello, Professor." John greeted, closing the door behind him.
"Hello, sir! Mr. Marston, sir. Good day, good day. How are you?" Professor MacDougal chirped.
"Well, my family's health and wellbeing are being threatened by some unscrupulous government agents and my own hard-won freedom is under duress, but these problems aside, I suppose I'm fair." John scoffed, shrugging his shoulders.
When the professor began getting in his face though, John's face slightly scrunched up. He didn't particularly care for people getting in his personal space, finally taking a step back.
"Yes, the problems of civilizing nomads. Tell me, sir, are you from Norse stock?" He suddenly asked.
"Not as far as I know. I was raised in an orphanage. My father was Scottish." John replied unevenly.
"Unfortunate. You'd make an interesting case for my theory of natural population characteristics." MacDougal replied, walking to his desk and looking through his microscope, that was a funny looking thing.
"Really?" John asked with a level of disinterest.
"Why yes, a white man obviously, but, but, but with a savage spirit. Trust me, sir, I mean savage in the best possible sense. Natural nobility, but also simple. Pure. I've been looking at some blood samples through my microscope and you know what?" MacDougal asked, not looking up.
"No." John said simply.
"Ah, well, of course, you don't. It's a remarkable breakthrough. I've been looking at the blood of both natives and white men of corresponding height, weight, and age and you know what?"
"Again, no."
"They're exactly the same! It's remarkable. It completely refutes my last book, but I'll tell you what, sir, this sabbatical in the field may have been somewhat forced upon me by circumstance, but my scholarship has benefitted enormously! Would you, like to partake of a syringe of cocaine? I've quite enough for two." MacDougal offered.
"Not right this minute, no." John replied.
"It's a remarkable drug. It entirely restores the ego. Takes one back to a primal state. Helps my thinking enormously. Oh, Nastas! Come on. Come in, sir!" MacDougal exclaimed as the native American man walked through the doorway, but John nearly got secondhand embarrassment as the professor started speaking slowly and moronically, if ignorance had a face, this would be it. "Would you like to take off your slippers? Or skin a rabbit? I know we cannot see the stars, but still, my heart is pure, and we meet as equals!" He says, enunciating each word stupidly. "These savages must be spoken to simply in metaphors." He said in sideways to John.
"No, sir. I grew up on a reservation and attended school." Nastas replied, he definitely looked better than the last time John had seen him when he rescued the native from the riverboat.
"Oh. Lovely." MacDougal said.
"But I can show you what you want to see. I know where the group of bandits you seek are hiding. Both of you. Van der Linde has attracted a following of young men on the reservation. They are turning to bad things." Nastas explained, piquing John's interest, he only wanted Dutch.
"The savage heart cannot be conventionally civilized! I was right all along!" MacDougal rejoiced.
"Where is Dutch van der Linde based?" John questioned.
"In the hills in Cochinay. Let's go. I know a way there that is not guarded." Nastas offered.
"Marvelous. Simply marvelous. Time to do our bit for humanity, Mr. Marston." MacDougal said standing.
"Come. Let's hurry. Stay close." Nastas instructed.
The trio then walk outside onto the Blackwater streets, mounting their rides and beginning to head out of the crowded town.
"So I understand we have a mutual interest in Mr. Van der Linde?" MacDougal asked curiously.
"You gonna kill him too?" John asked bluntly.
"Kill him? Good God, no! What is it with your people out here? No, Van der Linde fascinates me. A white man living among natives. A civilized mind turned savage. It's 'reverse integration'... Or 'regressive acculturation'... I don't know, I haven't found a name I like yet." MacDougal quickly explained.
"He was never that civilized..." John snorted.
"Ah, but of course! Edgar Ross mentioned your unique history with the man, although I was away with the fairies at the time, I must admit. Surfing great waves of euphoria. Well anyway, yes, some kind of Robin Hood-Oedipus-communist tale of naivety and betrayal, if I remember correctly?"
"We ran in a gang together, Professor. I wouldn't try to read too much into it."
"It's my job to read too much into everything, dear boy."
John, Nastas and Professor MacDougal rode into the woods, this was John's favorite area, he much preferred the woods to the desert and the crowds of Blackwater.
"These trees are quite foreboding, Nastas. A-A-A-Are you sure this is the right way?" MacDougal babbled.
"Yes, sir." Nastas replied straightforwardly.
"It's rather dark." MacDougal described.
"Ain't you never seen trees before? I thought you were a brave cultural explorer." John commented.
"Good lord, no. I rarely leave my room. I explore with the mind, Mr. Marston." MacDougal informed.
"Enjoy it while you still can. Soon you will have cut down all of these trees." Nastas stated solemnly.
"Me? Or are you making a sweeping statement about the white man in general?" MacDougal asked, John could have answered that question, but this wasn't John's fight.
"There is no respect for the land anymore." Nastas growled seriously.
"I'm sensing some hostility, Nastas. Some anger. Talk me through this primal emotion, where it's coming from?" MacDougal asked, again, this was a question that was obvious to John but he just subtly rolled his eyes and stayed out of it.
"Don't worry about it, Professor..." Nastas sighed in an exasperated fashion.
The trio arrived to some intimidating mountains, John looked up, his expression normal as MacDougal gulped. While John wasn't the most experienced hiker, he had maneuvered some interesting getaways in his days, he could take his time here... Then again, this place was much harsher.
"Here's the cliffs. We'll leave the horses here and climb the rest of the way." Nastas said as he and John dismounted their horses, John patted Harlow gently before beginning to walk towards the cliffs.
"Remarkable... I'm afraid I don't really have much of a head for heights. More of a head for highs... Well, well anyway. I'm sure Nastas will help you. I must be on my way. I've got work to do." MacDougal muttered, backing away from the two outdoorsmen.
"Thanks for the help." John murmured, glancing to Nastas, having no clue how he put up with MacDougal's shit.
"Goodbye, gentlemen. Enjoy yourselves." MacDougal said and quickly rode off back towards town.
John and Nastas watched the professor ride away, they gave each other sideways glances in silent understanding before they turned back to the cold mountains. John shuddered a bit, he had forgotten how nasty the weathers could get up here.
"Come on. I see a spot where we can climb up." Nastas said and pointed to a nearby ledge.
John helped hoist Nastas up to the scaffold that rested carefully at the ledge, however when Nastas stood, a snapping sound, forced the man to jump forward. Watching the scaffold give away, John stood out of the way to make sure he wasn't hit with anything... But now he was stranded.
"Damn! See if you can find another route, Mr. Marston. I will have a look around." Nastas said and pointed to the literal cliffs beside them.
John sighs, but he doesn't have a choice. Navigating the cliffs definitely reminded John of how old he was getting, he was by no means old but he wasn't in his prime anymore. He panted, sweating despite being in the snow. He just kept getting higher and higher, glancing over the edge he quickly leaned back. John didn't exactly have an aversion to heights but at this height, it would make any man queasy. He took off his hat for just a moment, fanning himself before continuing to ascend.
John approached a kill sight, a ram laid dead... It was a fresh kill. John looked around, the area was quiet... But he took a breath and dropped to the snowy floor, approaching the ram, it had a good rack. However hearing a hiss to his left, John quickly drew his rifle. A yowl emitted and the mountain lion emerged. He pointed the rifle at the cat as he started circling.
"... Back!" John snapped and thrust the barrel of his gun towards the predator, it was probably a good fifteen feet away from John but it jumped back some and snarled. "Get back!" He roared, hoping he wouldn't have to kill the puma, recalling Nastas' words that no one respected nature nowadays. Thankfully, the cougar realized that it wouldn't win and hissed but ran in the opposite direction.
Thankfully, the cougar realized that it wouldn't win and hissed but ran in the opposite direction. John sighed in relief but kept his gun at hand until he was a comfortable distance away. John finally began to descend, plopping onto the snow, seeing Nastas inspecting an abandoned cave, turning his attention over as John approached.
"I think there is a path through this cave. Yes, look at this. A mine shaft. This way." Nastas called and motioned John over to the opening.
John and Nastas walked throughout the mineshaft, it was eerily quiet... John looked over the walls in the lit corridors, it couldn't be abandoned. Suddenly though before both John and Nastas could react, a sudden crazed maniac jumped out of the shadows, cackling and swinging a knife, nearly missing Nastas' neck but slicing into his arm. Thankfully before more damage could be done, both John and Nastas fill the assailant with bullets. John then walked up to inspect the wound before a smokey smell hit his nose, the two looked over a minecart rolling towards them.
"Dynamite! Run!" Nastas gasped, John's eyes widened and sprinted out of the mineshaft before a sudden BOOM exploded, John looked over and sighed in relief, Jesus how in the hell did they get ahold of so much dynamite, but seeing Nastas sitting and holding a bloodied arm he bent over to see the slice.
"I'm hurt pretty bad..." Nastas muttered.
"I don't think you should go any further." John said honestly.
"I'll be fine, but you go ahead. I don't want to slow you down." Nastas said and John frowned.
"Are you sure you're alright?" John questioned.
"Just need to take it slow. Go on. I'll catch up, or see you on the way down." Nastas encouraged and pointed to the mineshaft.
John hesitated but he walked up the mineshaft. The thing felt miles long, climbing up multiple ladders and navigating through what felt like countless caverns. Reaching the top, John gasped softly and knelt down, spotting a scout ahead, using binoculars to look down. John decided to take the advantage while he was distracted, he took out his knife and quickly swung an arm around the other's neck, covering his mouth while he slit the man's throat. After he fell John drug the man a short distance away before taking the binoculars that the scout had dropped.
There seemed to be a camp down below, John looked around before standing up straight. He then peered down below at the camp, looking around. John hummed quietly until a sudden... Very familiar sight graced him... It was Dutch, no question, the dark-skinned man was directing native American's pointing to multiple places. John was actually floored he took his gaze away for a moment just looking down at the camp before putting the binoculars over his eyes. What he saw he didn't have enough time to react.
John felt the bullet of Dutch's gun hit his head, he was sure he was dead... How Dutch managed to see him he would never know... Perhaps there was some a Dutch left, just a little bit...
When John woke, his eyes began fluttering, a pungent odor hitting his nose as his eyes fluttered. He was alive..? He was certain Dutch nailed a headshot, but as he recalled what happened, Dutch hit the binoculars, not him... He was lucky, but as he realized he was inside a room he shook his head.
"Mr. Marston. Here you go, Mr. Marston." MacDougal cooed, John quickly shoved the bottle away.
"Put that stuff away." John groaned, reaching up to rub his head where he had been struck, just a small bruise.
"You banged your head. Nastas and I carried you down." MacDougal explained, but seeing Nastas glare at him he chuckled nervously. "Well, Nastas heard the shots and he hurried up to rescue you, and he carried you down. I improvised an escape plan. I'm more of a planner than a man of action." He said as John sat up.
"Thank you, gentlemen." John said and looked for his hat, reaching over and snatching it off the end table he put it on top of his head where it belonged.
"Friends of mine are with Van der Linde." Nastas disclosed.
"We must try to reason with them, sir. Van der Linde's gang contains several natives. We must meet with them and try to save them from disaster." MacDougal declared.
"My people have already endured many disasters. Before, this was all our land." Nastas snarled softly.
"And now we have brought you civilization. Well sure it hasn't been easy, but it hasn't been easy for anyone, Nastas. Why, I knew a man in Yale whose father once shot 18 natives in one afternoon out in Wyoming. The man was quite, quite traumatized. He took to lying with choirboys." MacDougal told, John stared at him dumbfounded, was this man serious?
"For a wise man, you are a very stupid man, mister." Nastas stated to MacDougal, growing impatient.
"Gentlemen, I'm going to leave you to figure out right from wrong..." John muttered, sensing the growing tension in the room.
"You are simple-minded, sir. Thus, I do not blame you for not understanding reason..." MacDougal defended, but timidly began backing away as Nastas started stepping up to him aggressively. "Then again..." He fretted, but John paused.
"Hey, professor... Mind if I use your address?" John asked.
"O-Oh sure what for?" MacDougal inquired.
"Personal mail, I'm being monitored so... I have to be careful on how I send my mail." He said.
"Oh, of course, my boy!" MacDougal beamed and John nodded a thank-you before stepping out of the room.
John replayed the scene through his head... Dutch looked right at him... Like he saw John. It was haunting the veteran of violence and he reached up, rubbing the welt, but it turned out to be a cut where the binoculars were forced into his forehead. This was war, Dutch took a shot at him... He sighed and walked out to Harlow, thankful they the two men had brought his horse down but now was a good time to visit the lawmen once again, well... It was never a good time but John didn't have a choice. He hummed softly, he should write a letter to Bonnie, he walked to the post office and bought a small stack of paper and an ink pen before heading back to the hotel and sitting in the lobby so he could write.
He missed Bonnie... But he would stay away as long as she would be safe. If she was captured again he didn't know what he would do.
Dear Miss MacFarlane-
He paused and crumpled up the paper, and starting again on a new sheet.
Dear Bonnie,
I wish I could see you, part of me wishes I could just ask how your day was, how you're feeling... I wish we could be casual but whenever I'm able to see you I just pour everything I wasn't able to get out while I was away... I'm sorry for being such a dog the last time I saw you, I've been craving you and when I saw you in your pink gown, your hair down and your robe parting down the middle... You were so beautiful Bonnie... It reminded me the first time I saw you when you were cleaning my face...
I miss you so much it hurts Bonnie... I'm so afraid that my captors will find out about you and that you'll be put in danger on my account... That our unborn child will be in danger.
I do have good news though, I have an address you can send mail to now, I'll post it on the envelope so you can write back to me, if you want. I know you'll hate hearing about this, but I was shot at a few hours ago and it hit my head... I was using binoculars at the time so it deflected the bullet, I'm a lucky man today... And I'm even luckier to have you in my life.
I love you, and I can't wait to be free of these bonds... But for now, write to me if you can, it'll help keep me above water.
Love,
John Marston
John wrote the return address on the envelope and making sure to write: From Professor Harold MacDougal so it wouldn't arouse suspicion before discreetly slipping it into the outgoing mailbox. It was time to become an indentured servant once again in the morning but he was exhausted and his head was pounding. He needed a rest, walking into the saloon down the block he walked up to the bar and ordered a few shots before picking up a room and passing out.
Bonnie slept a lot as the pregnancy began to sink in over the time, Drew was protective over her, working near her a lot and probably driving her crazy but he couldn't help himself. When the mail came he strolled out to it, flicking through the envelopes, seeing one from Bonnie from a Professor MacDougal he hummed but walked upstairs and slid it under her door.
The exhausted woman laid in bed, since the doctor had given her a prescription for nausea the only symptom that was really affecting her was the fatigue, her father made sure the farmhands lessened her workload. There were whispers going around that she was pregnant, that she was getting married, that she was having an affair with a married man which wasn't a lie... But she didn't confirm any statements if she were asked, thankfully though no one asked her yet.
Seeing the envelope slide under her door she sat up and sighed before standing and walking over and grabbing it. Professor MacDougal? She didn't know anyone by that name... The penmanship was familiar though, so she opened the letter and beamed as she realized who it was from. Reading the letter carefully she felt elated that she could finally send some letters back and update her on her condition. She knew he was probably worried sick about her.
Bonnie didn't waste any time, she got dressed, put her hair up and walked downstairs with the envelope after she hid John's letter away. She picked up a piece of paper and began writing right away.
Dear John,
I'm so happy I can finally write you back, now at least you know for sure that I got your letters, I have to say, for a man who claims not to be a romantic, you sure know how to make a girls heart flutter.
I want to strangle you when you tell me about your dangers but you're right, you are lucky to be alive and I thank god that you are. My condition isn't getting much worse, I know you're worrying. I'm much more tired than usual but other than that I'm not sick or in pain. Every time I get a letter of yours I cry because I'm happy to hear from you, I managed to keep my tears in this time cause I know now I can write back. The baby is doing well I suppose, still making me woozy and tired but we're doing alright.
I miss you so much and I'm glad I can express myself as well. You don't have to apologize for what happened, I wanted it too, I wish you could have stayed longer but the dedication you have to your family takes first priority I understand.
If for some reason your captors decide to rile me up, they'll see what kind of woman I really am, I don't take kindly to people disrupting my work, and since I'm working for two now, I will be twice as much to handle. Did you find the man you were looking for? You got shot so I'm assuming you got close, are you alright?
I have so many questions to ask but if I ask them all you'll be writing for days trying to answer all of them.
I love you, John Marston, I can't wait to see you again. I just remember that when I'm tired or down, that soon enough I'll have a bundle of part of us in my arms.
Write soon, John.
Love,
Bonnie MacFarlane
Bonnie then packed the letter into the envelope, wrote the address that John had left her and sent it to MacDougal and walking out to the post office on the ranch and sent it, paying a little extra to send it through priority. At least now she and John could correspond back and forth.
"What a pleasant surprise - Mr. Marston! An informant just told us some interesting news. Our mutual friend Mr. Van der Linde is about to pay a call on his bank manager. What do you say to having a little financial discussion with the fellow? This way." Edgar chirped as John walked into the office a couple days later.
"Let's get up on the roof. We'll have a clear shot at them from there." Archer added as the two got two long-barreled rifles assembled.
"That door is the only way in and out of the building, so cover it tight. Do you see the horses to the left, by the building across the street? Dutch's boys hitched them there. They have to run that way to make their escape. Don't start shooting until they're out in the open. If we spook them, they may retreat back and hole up inside. Don't shoot until I give you the signal. Keep your sights trained on that bank door." Edgar ordered and John grabbed a rifle offered by the lawmen.
The sight became a bloody one, bandits began shooting from all angles and John, with the help of Edgar, Archer, the Sherrif and multiple officers, slaughtered the bunch of them.
"Marston, head into the bank with Hopkins and Manning. Get Dutch. Be careful, there may be some innocent people there." Edgar barked, John and law enforcement began sprinting towards the quiet building.
"We can take 'em! Come on! Let's get in there!" A deputy roared and the group storms in.
John managed to save the hostages from meeting a particularly brutal fate, Dutch's men weren't trained the way John was. They were easy to take down and were missing John by a mile.
"Everybody out! Run! Now!" John commanded, watching the innocate people scurry out past them.
"Good work. Dutch ain't down here, he's gotta be hiding upstairs somewhere. He must be in here! Marston, get the door, we got you covered." Sherrif Manning stated, watching John kick down the door, but when the group ran in, his man was there... Holding a woman hostage.
"It's nice to see you, John." Dutch mused, John pointing his revolver at him.
"Hello, Dutch." John greeted, narrowing his eyes.
"How's Abigail?" Dutch asked, knowing it would blow a vein in John's head.
"Well, I hope. I ain't seen her for awhile..." John replied smoothly, he couldn't afford to get angry and blow his shot at killing Dutch.
"Cause you've been chasing me?" Dutch questioned, grinning cynically.
"Let the woman go, Dutch." John ordered calmly.
"Of course, of course... How's your little boy?" Dutch questioned, stalling for time.
"He ain't so little now." John muttered, it had been so long since he had seen his son.
"No, he must be what, fifteen? Sixteen? Doesn't time fly?" Dutch inquired, wearing an unreadable smirk on his features.
"Don't it just? It's over, man." John declared, the woman breathing shaky breaths and looking at John, her eyes pleading.
"Of course, of course. I surrender, John. You're the master now." Dutch chuckled.
"I've been my master since you left me to die." John hissed lightly.
"We all make mistakes, John. I never claimed to be a saint. But equally, I never took you for an errand boy." Dutch taunted, trying to get at John.
"Just trying to help my family, Dutch, by making compromises we all have to. Now let her go, it's over." John ordered a bit more firmly.
"You want the girl, John? You always were the romantic sort. You know, gentlemen, this man here, he married a whore. Used to ride with us. We all had her, but he married her, and you know that makes him a better man than us... In fact, he's having another baby, ain't ya John..? He's a better man. Have the girl, John." Dutch said, meeting John's gaze as the glint of panic with through John's eyes from the information, but it was replaced with a tension as Dutch took a step with the girl.
"Easy, Dutch." John warned, sweat gathering at his brows.
"She's a parting gift from me." Dutch informed, pushing the woman towards them, but before they could get her to safety Dutch pulled the trigger, successfully blowing her brains out, slipping behind her and out of the room as they made their way out of the building for a quick escape.
"Goddamn!" John bellowed as he caught the girls body, slowly lowering her to the ground and closing her eyes.
"What the hell happened in there? This is your fault, Marston!" The Sherrif yelled as they began running out of the building.
"You got a gun too, Sheriff!" John snapped back.
"You waited too long." The Sherrif sneered.
"Next time I'll just shoot the girl." John replied, as he mounted Harlow and began riding out of Blackwater, desperately trying to catch up to Dutch as Edgar and Archer caught up to them on horseback as well.
"What happened in there? We saw Van der Linde escaping with some men." Edgar asked.
"He stole off with the bank manager in an automobile." Archer added.
"Let's just say, Dutch ain't gone and got himself sane. He killed some poor woman." John responded, following the tire tracks.
"There's an old logging camp further down this road. It's been abandoned for years. My guess is that's where they're headed. Come on, follow me! So, that's the great Dutch? What a role model. The man who made who you are." Edgar jested.
"I guess so." John sighed.
"Has he changed?" Archer asked.
"No, still the same crazy bastard he turned into." John replied with disappointment.
"How was it seeing him after all this time? Did it tug on your heartstrings?" Edgar jeered.
"Kinda reminds me of you. Violent piece of shit who went and confused himself with God." John snarled slightly.
"Isn't that sweet of you? And now you must kill him. Your side is chosen." Edgar snorted.
"My side ain't chosen. My side was given. I'd kill you a hundred times before I killed Dutch, if it was an option." John stated seriously, narrowing his eyes at Edgar.
"Hallelujah! I think we're finally reaching an understanding, Mr. Marston." Edgar chuckled.
"Who the hell are you fellas anyway? Lawmen or army?" John finally asked,
"We are neither, Mr. Marston." Archer retorted.
"But I have the authority over both." Edgar affirmed.
The barrage finally approached a flaming wreck of a car, John looked around frantically but there was no sign of Dutch. However they were also met with an army of rebels descending from Tall Trees, John was shocked at how many people Dutch got to follow him. John had to admit though, Dutch was an influential man, he followed Dutch for a while, but John didn't hesitate to put all the sheep down.
"Where's Dutch, Marston?" Edgar growled approaching John.
"He got away." John sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Scared to shoot him? Too much to handle?" Edgar badgered.
"When the opportunity presents itself, I'll put a bullet in him, don't you worry. Won't like myself for doing it, but I'll do it." John assured and Edgar nodded.
"Good man, good man. You know, at the end of this, you'll probably get a medal. I know I shall." Edgar stated with a grin, John rolled his eyes and watched the lawmen ride back into town.
John took a moment to overlook the graveyard they had just created, there were dozens of men laying in the field. He sighed and mounted Harlow, John replayed the scene over in his head. He tried to think that Dutch was just trying to get a rise out of him but he knew in his heart he would be a huge coward if he believed that. Dutch needed to be put down and if this was going to affect him that bad he wouldn't be able to do it.
