You know, if this were a young adult trilogy, this would be the end of the second novel and you'd have to wait a year or so to find out what happens next. Fortunately for us all, this is fanfiction, but I am going to make you wait two weeks instead of one this time. I want to make sure my outline for this final section of the story is solid and get a little written ahead. I've been able to maintain a good writing schedule this year, but I just started school, so I do want to give myself a little safety net in case I get super busy.

See you in two weeks!

Chapter 31: Massacre

The sunlight woke Arthur up on the morning of the ferry robbery. And that wasn't right.

Every few days since coming to Blackwater, Arthur had jolted awake to the sound of the ferry horn at five in the morning. No matter how long they stayed in Blackwater, Arthur was never ready for it, and he'd almost thrown himself out of bed in a panic several times.

He sat up quickly, pulling on pants and his leg before joining Hosea, who was nursing a cup of coffee and anxiously watching the harbor from the cliffs.

"What's going on?"

"The ferry is late."

"That's not right. It's never late," Arthur said.

"Well, today it is. On an important day, it is."

"Where's Dutch?"

"Still down by the water with the others," Hosea said with a sigh, pointing to the small inlet where they'd stashed the canoes.

"What?" Arthur exclaimed. "They are still going through with it?"

"Trust me, I went down there and tried to call it off. Anna is in the boat with him, telling him it don't feel right, but he just won't listen!" Hosea said, his coffee almost spilling from his shaking hand.

"Hosea, you okay?"

"I just don't understand! They won't be able to get onto the ferry unseen, they won't be able to blend with the crowd. How are they supposed to pull it off? It almost sounds like… like…"

"You think he's still rattled from Montana?" Arthur suggested. It was the only reason he could think of. "Dutch wants to get us away from the law, so maybe he's getting desperate."

"Desperate people make stupid moves," Hosea reminded him.

"Want me to try to talk him out of it?"

"If Anna can't get through to him, I don't think you will. Maybe… maybe he's waiting until the boat is in the harbor to make a decision. Really get a good look at it," Hosea said thoughtfully. Arthur nodded along. He didn't want to think Dutch was making a rash decision, even if the evidence was starting to point in that direction.

"You don't think the law is onto us, do you?" Arthur asked.

"You did see a lot of law in town," Hosea said. "If they think the shipment is going to get hit, they may have delayed the boat to inspect the passengers."

"Or put lawmen on the boat," Arthur grumbled. "Maybe I should go into town, see how things are."

"What? That's a terrible idea!"

"I told you I ran into that Milton guy," Arthur said. "He already suspected I was with a group. If I don't set up shop, especially on a day when a bunch of new customers are supposed to arrive, he'll know for sure something is up."

"I don't like it," Hosea said.

"Neither do I, but what other choice do we have? It sounds like if Dutch thinks he can hit the boat, they're going to go for it. Might as well keep suspicions in town low for as long as possible."

"Just please be careful," Hosea said.

"I will. I'll take a light load in case I need to leave quick, and keep Isaac and Uncle at home. I'll be fine, Hosea, you know I can handle myself."

"I know," Hosea said. "Good luck, son."

The camp was slowly starting to wake up and pack up camp as Arthur drove Rory towards town, but with so few of the gang left in camp, Arthur knew it would be slow going. Arthur drove a little faster, before his guilt and need to help forced him to turn around. But this would be better for Dutch's group. If Milton saw him acting normal, then he'd assume the shipment was going to plan.

At least, that's what Arthur hoped when Milton caught his eye just after setting up in his usual spot on the southern end of town.

"Where's the old man?" Milton asked.

Arthur thought fast. "Told me his back hurt too much and couldn't come in. I think he's bullshitting, but this is easier."

"Not the best worker?"

"Can't fire family, unfortunately," Arthur said. "Now, do you want anything or not?"

"No. Good day, Mr…"

"Callahan."

"Ah, yes. Mr. Callahan," Milton repeated, before leaving Arthur alone.

A horn blew in the distance.

"Dutch, it's been over an hour."

"It will be here."

"It's too light out, they'll see us coming!"

Dutch turned and held Annabelle in an intense stare. "No, they won't. They'll be tired from traveling all night. Clearly they got a late start and won't be on their game today. All their focus will be on the docks."

"And that's another thing, the whole time we've been here, the ferry has never-"

"Will you quit doubting, Anna?" The second after he said it, he felt bad for snapping. But he quickly brushed it off. They were so close, and this money from the ferry, if Micah's estimate of tens and possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars was correct, would be more than enough for them to live comfortably in New Austin for the rest of their lives. And he knew they could do it, trusted each and every member of his crew. Even the newest members, Charles, Lenny, and Micah, had proven they were capable, and Jenny Kirk could easily act her part. But he needed everyone on board. "If you want to quit now, then leave."

"I'm not leaving, but-"

A horn blew in the distance.

"There it is! Gentlemen, and ladies, it's time to take some money from the fools at the government and find our freedom in the west. This time next week, we will have a land of our own! Now, everyone remember the plan? Mac, Sean, and Karen, you keep watch from the back. Charles, Lenny, Bill, you keep watch at the front. John, Davey, and Jenny, mingle with the crowd. Keep an eye on them and the crew, keep them away from Javier standing guard by the door down to the cargo. Annabelle, Micah, and I will collect the money."

They rowed out, calm but swift. The dawn light reflected harshly on the surface of the lake, just as Dutch had hoped when the ferry showed up late, just like Micah assured him it would. The man did have good instincts, and surely he'd adjust to being with a group soon.

They pulled silently up to the side of the ferry, throwing ropes onto the lowest deck and climbing up. All on board, none of them seen. It was perfect! The perfect job, the perfect last job.

They split off as told, with Annabelle and Micah following him to the stairs and down to the cargo. One guard, Dutch almost laughed at the idea of there being only one guard for the fortune inside. Micah broke his neck. Behind him, he heard Annabelle ask, "Was that really necessary?" But then Micah handed him the key, and it was forgotten.

They opened the door and saw gold.

Stacks of it, stacks of cash, too, filling the crates and sacks all along the room. Micah let out a whistle when he entered the room, but Dutch's jaw just dropped. It was more than he hoped for. More than he dreamed about.

"I don't even know if we have enough space in our bags," Dutch said with a laugh.

"Let's not linger too long," Micah said, starting to fill his own saddlebags. Annabelle and Dutch quickly joined him, grabbing as much of it as they could and getting out of the room as another horn sounded and the boat came to a stop near the docks, a tugboat guiding it into place.

Javier was still at the door when they left. "We good?" he asked Dutch.

"Just fine, son. How are things up here?"

"Quiet," Javier replied, signaling to Jenny that they were good and before looking around for John and Davey.

And then, several guns were drawn at once.

"This is the Pinkerton Detective Agency! Everyone drop your bags and put your hands in the air!"

Dutch froze. More than half of the passengers who'd been ignoring them up until that point were now drawing weapons, scanning the crowd. "What the hell?" Micah said.

"Goddammit, try to get to the side," Dutch said, backing up.

But it was too late. One of the guns swung in his direction, and the Pinkertons shouted, "You! Drop the bags and hands up!"

"What's going on?" a young woman next to Dutch asked.

He didn't think. He just grabbed her and pointed his revolver at her head, using her as a shield between himself and the Pinkertons. She screamed. He didn't flinch.

"Gentlemen, let us go!"

"Let go of the girl and put your hands in the air!"

"You're making a mistake," Dutch said, and then a shot rang out, followed by a shout from John. His finger closed on the trigger, and the girl's head exploded.

John glanced around, a hand on his holster, trying to spot all the lawmen and bounty hunters that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He caught the eye of one, and suddenly they were both aiming their guns.

The lawman, with his gun already drawn, managed to fire first. The bullet entered John's arm, midway between his shoulder and elbow. He staggered, falling back against the railing, but it was low, too low, he was going over the side and into the water!

He didn't hear Davey yell, didn't hear the splash, just felt the sheer panic as the water engulfed his head. They tried to teach him to swim. Dutch, Hosea, Arthur. Arthur tried twice, when he was a kid and when Isaac learned. The second time was better, Arthur was patient, showed John how he could fill his lungs with air and simply float at the surface for minutes at a time, but John's lungs refused to hold air whenever his body touched the water, and all he did was sink. Like he was sinking now, his legs and uninjured arm thrashing and pulling and somehow just sending him deeper into the lake.

Then an arm wrapped around his middle, strong, steady. He came to the surface coughing and sputtering. "I got you, John, don't worry," Davey said, and John's head fell back onto his shoulder, knowing it was pure luck that Davey got partnered with him. Davey, one of the few people in the gang who actually knew he couldn't swim.

But as the water cleared from his ears, he heard more gunshots. "What's happening?" he asked.

"Whole damn thing is out of hand," Davey said. "We'll get to shore, try to regroup with the others. Did you get hit?"

"Yeah, my arm. I can still shoot, don't worry."

At least, he hoped he could still shoot. The panic of drowning was quickly being replaced with a different kind, as the shooting and shouting and screaming continued on the boat. Davey pulled him onto the sand at a little inlet near the construction, and they only had seconds before Pinkertons noticed them.

"Over here! There's more of them!"

This group of Pinkertons didn't give them the chance to surrender. John frantically felt around his holster for his gun, but he must have dropped it on the boat. Davey still had his, aiming his revolver at the two Pinkertons that broke away from the crowd to get them and pulling the trigger.

But the gun jammed.

Davey had a second to look surprised before he was hit twice in the stomach and collapsed to the ground.

"Shit, no!"

John scrambled to Davey's side, dragging him behind the meager cover offered on that beach. Davey groaned, still alive then, but neither of them be that way for long if John couldn't kill those men. He grabbed Davey's revolver, inspecting it. Some water leaked out of the components, was that the reason? He shook the bullets out and replaced them with new ones, hoping that would be enough, but his ammo boxes had been submerged too and what if they didn't work and he had to fight back somehow, he had a knife, but it just wasn't enough and they were getting closer and he had to do something!

They needed to make a hole, clear enough of the Pinkertons crowding on the docks. None of them made their way up the ramp, too aware that they would get caught in the choke point and gunned down, but that same ramp kept the gang trapped on the boat. It was a good trap, and it was going to get them killed. John and Davey were missing, Javier saying that he saw John fall over the railing. But then Jenny took a bullet to the chest, and Karen was shouting and putting pressure on the hole while Jenny screamed, and their thoughts were forced back to the situation at hand.

Jenny shouldn't be on the boat. She was new and wanted to prove she was willing to do anything, but Annabelle should have told her no. Even when Dutch excitedly patted her on the shoulder and praised her enthusiasm, she should have told him no.

But she'd told him no, asked him to rethink, begged him to listen so many times over the last few days. Would he have listened to her about Jenny?

Why did he shoot that girl?

No, she couldn't think about that right now.

"How are we getting out of here?" Karen asked, voicing the question that was on everyone's mind.

"If we have to kill them all, that's what we'll do," Micah laughed. He laughed like this was fun, like this was a game without consequences.

She opened her mouth to yell at him, but Dutch shouted before her, "I've got a plan!" Dutch extracted a stick of dynamite from his jacket pocket. "We're going to pair up! Mac and Sean, you go south and try to lead some away. Bill, carry Jenny and get her back to camp, quick as you can. Karen, cover him! Micah and Javier will go northwest along the road by the church. Charles and Lenny, see if you can find John and Davey. Anna and I will take the money, see if we can grab the rest of our savings."

"I can help with the money, Boss," Micah said.

"Everyone, do as I say! Now!" Dutch lit the dynamite and tossed the dynamite at the docks. There was a shout of alarm a second before it exploded and several men flew into the water. "Go!"

She tossed the heavy bags over her shoulder, and they ran. Shot more Pinkertons. Ducked into an alley. The alley where their money was hidden. They'd chosen to hide it in town this time, given the lack landmarks and the openness of the plains. Dutch found the spot, a patch of loose bricks on a building that either no one had noticed or no one had cared to report, because this new building was outfitted with the latest plumbing and electricity, leaving a gap between the brick and the indoor plaster. Dutch had even slapped a poster over the loose bricks, ensuring that no one would notice.

But there was a problem. They had dropped their savings down into the hole, and it was too deep for them to reach down pull the lockbox out. They'd need sledgehammers to open up the wall. Annabelle could see the same wheels turning in Dutch's head, too, as he felt around the sturdy bricks, like he expected to pull them out by hand.

She shifted the bags of money on her shoulder. "Dutch, let's just take what we have and come back-"

And then pain shot through her leg, and she crumpled.

"Anna!"

She didn't see the bounty hunter fall to the ground from Dutch's shot, too busy blinking the spots out of her vision and clutching at the hole in her leg, trying to keep the blood from spilling out.

Dutch fell to her side immediately. "Hey, come on now, Anna, don't do this to me. Talk to me, Anna!"

"I think it just hit the muscle," Annabelle managed to groan. The bullet hadn't hit any major blood vessels, that's for sure. Otherwise, she'd be bleeding a lot more. "Don't know if I can walk."

Dutch looked at her, then looked at the bags of money. "Give me a few seconds," he said, and he began dropping the bags of gold and cash into the hole with their other savings. Once they were gone, he hastily replaced the bricks and slapped the poster over the damage. "We'll come back for it. Now, let's get out of here!"

Dutch hauled Annabelle over his shoulder, sprinting back towards camp and leaving their money behind. In a few days, as the damage from the robbery was being cleaned up, a man would notice the loose bricks behind the poster and scoff at the attempt to cover up the building's flaws. A little bit of mortar, and the man walked away, satisfied with his repair job, completely unaware of the fortune he'd sealed inside.

Hosea heard the shooting, and knew immediately it had all gone wrong.

"Everyone, start packing up! I need horses hitched, wagons loaded! Keep one clear with medical supplies in case we have injured. Now move!"

The camp became a flurry of activity. Tents were torn down and personal items were thrown into chests. Pearson began shouting about how he didn't have much food supplies, and why the man hadn't been gone shopping recently Hosea did not have time to ask. Instead, he holstered his guns and grabbed Silver Dollar, galloping into town as fast as he could.

Everyone was running from the docks, screaming and shouting and engulfing the lawmen trying to chase down the gang. A woman tripped over the ends of her fancy dress, crashing into the mud and almost trampled as no one stopped to help her up, an older gentleman was cut down by a bullet, though it was impossible to tell from which side the bullet came. He looked for Arthur but couldn't find him or his cart, and as much as he wanted to search, he could see a crowd of lawmen forming near the beach. Charles and Lenny were heading to help, and he realized that two men were pinned down behind rotted, wooden crates. Possibly injured or without weapons.

"Hey, over here!" Hosea shouted before ducking behind a more solid bit of construction. Some lawmen turned, searching for the new threat, and it was just enough for Charles and Lenny to make their move. Lenny covered Charles as he ran towards the crates. He almost made it without being seen, but one man noticed and swung his shotgun towards Charles' head. Charles grabbed the hot barrel with his hand, shouting out as it burned him but keeping his grip as he forced it up, quickly dispatching the man with his sawed-off.

Finally, they had a short reprieve. Hosea rushed towards the crates, feeling a jolt of horror when he took in the bloody mess on John's hands as he tried to keep Davey alive. "No."

"Hosea?" John gasped, sounding hurt and exhausted, too.

Once he was able to drag his eyes away from Davey's stomach, Hosea searched John for injuries. It was hard to tell, given John's dark clothing and that they were both soaked. "Can you walk?" he asked.

"Davey-"

"We'll help Davey. Are you hurt? Can you walk?"

John nodded. "Got hit in the arm, but I can walk."

"I think we need to move," Lenny said nervously, looking at the regrouping lawmen near the town.

"Charles, is your hand alright?" Hosea asked. "Can you carry Davey?"

"I'll be fine, just help me get him on my shoulder."

Hosea knew that Charles' hand wasn't as fine as he claimed, but Charles was the only one of them who would be able to run with a man on his back. Lenny helped haul Davey onto his back while Hosea checked over John's arm. "We'll pull this bullet out at camp. They're starting to pack up, so we'll need to move as soon as everyone is back."

"He saved my life," John said, staring at Davey. "I went over the side, he pulled me out."

"He's going to be fine," Hosea lied. "Let's go!"

In hindsight, he should have set up on the north end of town. But Arthur was trying to distance himself from the gang's camp, too obvious and visible up on the cliffs. But he was able to help a little, providing cover to Sean and Mac who were running towards his end of town.

Then, Sean tripped with a shout. Arthur figured it was just his own clumsiness, and was rolling his eyes at him when the bounty hunter emerged and hit Sean over the head with the his rifle.

Mac turned towards Sean's shout. Distracted. Arthur didn't get the chance to warn him or help, already focused on dispatching the men converging on Sean.

The first bullet hit Mac's shoulder, and he staggered. A second lower on his back. A third on his leg, and he fell.

"Goddammit!" Arthur shouted. He rushed out, firing down the street as he made his way to Mac. Even then, Mac was dragging himself to his feet by the time Arthur reached him and wrapped an arm around him for support. "You're going to be fine."

"Gotta get out of here," Mac groaned.

"I've got my cart. You can sit in the back and keep them off us, alright?" Arthur said to him. "Sean, get up!"

Sean's head rolled on the ground towards the sound.

"Sean, get up and move!"

Sean's eyes opened and he sat up slightly, though he was groggy. Arthur deposited Mac into the cart before running back to him. "I said, get up!" Arthur shouted, yanking Sean to his feet and throwing him into the cart with Mac.

More lawmen were beginning to notice them and head in their direction, blocking their path to camp. Arthur aimed Rory towards Tall Trees and flicked the reins. They could try to double back to pick up the gang's trail later. For now, the farther away they got from law, the better.

Bill and Karen got back first, carrying Jenny. She wasn't moving, but someone said she was still breathing as they dragged her into the medical wagon. The image stayed in Isaac's mind as he tore down another tent and shoved it into their supply wagon.

"Where's Pa?" he asked.

"I don't know," Tilly said.

Micah and Javier came back next, both uninjured. They started saddling horses, warning that the lawmen wouldn't be far behind. Jack started crying in Susan's arms. She was holding him and directing the packing, since Abigail was helping fetch items for Swanson in the medical wagon and Jack kept getting in the way.

"Where's Pa? Did he go into town?"

"Keep packing, kid," Pearson said.

Then Charles ran in, Davey bleeding over his shoulders. Hosea, John, and Lenny weren't far behind. Davey went to the medical wagon, whereas Hosea sat John down on the ground with a bottle of whiskey and some tweezers.

"Do you know where Pa is?" he asked Hosea.

"He's not back yet?" Hosea said, his face somehow growing more worried than it already was.

Dutch ran in before he could find out more. Dutch, pale and shaky, carrying Annabelle and already shouting orders. "We need to move! Get in the wagons or on the horses. We'll cross the river and try to lose them on the other side!"

"Who are we missing?" Susan asked.

"My pa," Isaac said.

"I haven't seen Mac or Sean either," Javier added.

"They're regrouping!" shouted Lenny, who'd grabbed stayed on the edge of camp as lookout. "And getting horses!"

"We can't linger," Dutch said. "We need to move out! Now!"

"No," Isaac said.

The gang didn't listen. They grabbed the last items they could carry, and did as they were told. Hosea pushed Javier and Bill towards their horses, ordering them to scout the river crossings. John got on Moose, insisting to anyone who complained that his injury wasn't bad and he could ride.

"We can't leave yet!"

Dutch put Annabelle in the medical wagon and climbed into the driver's seat. Pearson did the same with the supply wagon, and Susan handed Jack over to Tilly before getting on the third. They weren't just leaving him, were they? They couldn't! Boadicea was waiting for his pa, already tacked up, and he went for her.

Hosea grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not leaving without Pa!"

"Isaac, we have to go."

"No! We're not leaving him behind!

"Isaac-"

"LET ME GO!"

"Isaac, stop! Look at me!" Hosea cupped his hands around Isaac's face, forcing Isaac's eyes back on Hosea. "Listen to me. Your pa is smart and capable. He'll get himself to safety and figure out how to find us, I promise. But we need to leave, or we'll all be dead. Understand?"

Isaac nodded, tears building in his eyes.

"Good. You can ride Bo if you want, but stay close to the wagons. If you even think about turning around, I'll lasso you myself, got it?"

"Yeah," he sniffled. Hosea hopped on Silver Dollar, staying next to Boadicea while Isaac got on her. Isaac hesitated for only a second, still wanting to gallop into town, but then he nudged her over to the wagons.

The wagon train made it out of camp with only minutes to spare, leaving Blackwater and his father behind.