Clem deftly sidestepped the man's flailing legs and looped the rope around his ankles, yanking the knot tight and smiling to herself as he grunted in pain and swore at her. She tapped Styx's neck and waited while the mare slowly got to her knees, allowing Clem to heave the bounty over her hindquarters.

'Where are you taking me?' the man snarled as Styx stood.

'Where do you think?' Clem asked, pulling herself into the saddle and settling the reins in her hands.

'I'm wanted in a lot of places, lady.'

'Sure y'are,' Clem said drily. 'Well, unfortunately for me and lucky for you, Saint Denis is closest and they're payin' the most.'

'You'll never make -'

Clem snapped the reins at the man's head, nodding to herself when he fell mercifully silent. She'd almost reached the bridge into Saint Denis when a woman ran out into the street, almost running straight under Styx's hooves.

Clem hauled on the reins, automatically leaning forward to stroke Styx's neck when the mare protested this rough treatment. 'You tryna get yourself killed, lady?'

The woman peered up at her in the gathering dark. 'Sir, I need - Miss Warren?'

Clem looked closer, realising she recognised the woman. 'Abigail? What're you doin' out here?'

'Please, Clem. You gotta help me.' The younger woman sounded more desperate than Clem would have expected based on her limited knowledge of her. Abigail had seemed tough, capable and more than a little sharp-tongued. Not the sort of woman Clem would have expected to beg for help.

'What do you need?'

Relief washed over Abigail's face. 'A ride.'

Clem turned and shoved the bounty off Styx's back. 'It's your lucky day, mister,' she said, ignoring his yelp of pain as he hit the ground. She extended a hand and helped Abigail haul herself up onto Styx. 'Where we goin'?'

'Old plantation house called Shady Belle,' Abigail said, setting her hands at Clem's waist. 'You know it?'

'Yeah. Over this way,' Clem said, turning Styx and starting down the road at a trot.

'We'll need to go faster, Clem. It's all gone to hell.'

'What has?' Clem asked, urging Styx unto a gallop.

Abigail hesitated. 'I can trust you, can't I, Clem. I mean… Arthur does.' Clem felt her take a deep breath. 'Dutch and Hosea had us robbin' the bank.'

'In Saint Denis?' Clem said, surprised at the audacity of it.

'We had a solid plan,' Abigail said, defensive. 'But they knew we were comin' or else someone talked or somethin'.'

'Who did?'

'The law. The boys had just gone inside and the place was swarming with Pinkertons. They grabbed Hosea. Killed him in front of John and Dutch and everyone. I only just managed to get away and hide 'fore they got me too.'

Clem felt her stomach tighten unpleasantly. 'What happened to… the others?' she asked, her direct nature suddenly failing her in the face of what she feared Abigail would tell her.

'They was inside the bank. I didn't see what happened to them. They got John though. I saw them drag him out.' She sniffed, and Clem was horribly aware that she was crying. 'They'll hang him for sure.'

Clem cast around for something- anything - to say. 'You'll get him back, Abigail. The others-'

'Lord knows where they are. They was all in the bank and I didn't see them come out 'fore I ran. John gets himself into a scrape it's usually Arthur gets him out again but I don't even know where he is.'

Unconsciously Clem tapped her heels against Styx's sides, urging the horse forward as they turned down the road to the broken down plantation house.

'Who goes there?' a voice demanded, rough in the darkness.

'It's Abigail. I got Arthur's friend Miss Warren with me.'

A blonde woman Clem vaguely remembered from Clemens Point stepped out of the shadows, following them as Clem brought Styx to a halt by the hitching posts.

'What the hell happened?' Sadie demanded. 'Where's everybody else?'

Abigail slid from Styx's back and headed into the camp. 'We need to get outta here, Sadie. Pinkertons ambushed us. They killed Hosea and they took John.'

'Where are the others, Abigail?' Sadie asked, grabbing Abigail's arm and pulling her to a stop.

'I don't know!' Abigail snapped, looking up as other members of the gang started to gather. 'All I know is they shot Hosea and they took John,' she said, quieter now. 'I don't know what happened to the others. We need to-' she broke off at the sound of hooves galloping towards the camp.

Clem drew her pistol, hearing Sadie cock the repeater she was carrying.

'It's Charles!' Abigail said, slapping the barrel of Sadie's repeater downwards. She rushed forwards as Charles dismounted.

'We need to leave,' Charles said, patting Abigail on the back when she flung her arms around him. 'We're not safe here. I left the others at the docks but here's a whole lot of law between them and us. They won't come back here.'

'You left them?' Miss Grimshaw snapped

Charles released Abigail. 'I had to. Someone had to draw the Pinkertons away.

Miss Grimshaw nodded, seemingly satisfied.

'Charles is right,' Sadie said. 'We can't stay here no more.'

Miss Grimshaw nodded. 'Mr Pearson! You girls! Get to packin'!' She headed into the camp, talking animatedly with Sadie.

'Charles,' Clem said softly as the rest of the gang dispersed.

'Miss Warren?' Charles asked, pausing on his way into camp when he spotted Clem. 'What are you-'

'I found Abigail,' Clem explained quickly. 'Is Arthur…'

Understanding dawned in Charles' eyes. 'He was alive, last I saw. We lost Hosea and Lenny, but Arthur and the others were okay.' Clem swallowed hard past the burning in her throat and Charles laid a warm hand on her shoulder. 'He'll be alright, miss. We've got no reason to believe they didn't get away.'

Clem looked towards her horse, the sudden urge to ride to Saint Denis taking hold. Styx could be there in half an hour if she pushed.

Charles followed her gaze. 'They won't be there, not if they've got any sense.'

'Who says they've got sense?'

Charles smiled softly. 'You've got me there. But we could use your help here.' He started forward again, using the hand on her shoulder to propel her deeper into the camp. 'Arthur says you can take care of yourself and if we're going to move safely we're going to need someone like that.'

'I-' Clem began, only to be interrupted by Miss Grimshaw.

'Miss Warren! If you're staying, make yourself useful and pack up Mr Morgan's effects. He'll want them when he gets back. Last door at the top of the stairs.'

'I-' Clem said again, furiously aware that she was flushing and glad the darkness probably hid the worst of it.

'Go on now,' Miss Grimshaw made a shooing motion with her hands before turning to confer with Charles.

Seeing that the woman wouldn't be swayed, Clem headed through the busy throng of people and into the house. The stairs creaked under her feet as she made her way upstairs, past little Jack, sitting on the top step and trying to keep out of the way, then past Abigail busily packing up a room with a large hole in the wall.

Arthur's room was small, most of the space taken up with the gang's ammunition supplies. As Clem closed the door behind her she let her eyes travel over his belongings, the trunk with one blue shirt sleeve escaping the lid, the map he'd had on the back of his wagon laid out on the table, the lumpy cot she'd spent days on after she was shot. Arthur - or more likely one of the girls - had arranged his photographs on a cabinet in the corner of the room. Clem stepped forwards, her eye caught by the portrait of a younger Arthur with Dutch and Hosea.

The way each had spoken of the other, Arthur and Hosea had seemed like nothing so much as father and son. She wasn't quite sure where Dutch fit in there, she had a suspicion that both men had raised Arthur - each to their own ends. And now Hosea was dead and Arthur was… where? Gone someplace.

Thoughts of her father's death tried to push themselves forward, the damp-leaf smell of the forest where he'd died suddenly overtaking the mustiness of Shady Belle. Clem shoved the memory back where it belonged.

She reached out to touch it, her finger hovering over Arthur's sullen face, but stopped short. She shouldn't be here. Whatever understanding they might have reached, Arthur wouldn't want her prying through his things. She turned to leave, to tell Miss Grimshaw to get someone else to do this and knocked into the cabinet and had to reach out to stop the flower Arthur kept in a jar from falling. As she righted the jar she saw there was a folded scrap of paper underneath it.

She took it, carefully unfolding it and finding her own face staring back at her. She wasn't smiling, but Arthur had somehow managed to draw her eyes in such a way that she looked as though she might at any moment.

Clem stared at the sketch, as though it had something more to tell her than she already knew. After a moment, she heaved in a breath and set to work, tucking the picture away in her pocket.

When Abigail knocked on the door ten minutes later Clem had packed up most of the room and was just carefully packing away the last of the dynamite.

'Oh,' Abigail said, calmer now than she had been. 'I'm sure Miss Grimshaw didn't mean for you to pack all that away.'

Clem straightened, shrugging. 'Needed doin'.'

'We're about ready to head out,' Abigail said. 'Once this is loaded. Mr Pearson and Reverend Swanson'll be by in a minute.'

As she headed down the stairs with Abigail, Clem asked, 'Where we headin'?'

'Place called Lakay. Strauss knows it. He ain't good for much but if anyone knows a place to hide it's him.'

Clem nodded. 'It's in the Bayou. Usually a few swamp folk thereabouts.'

'Charles and Sadie rode out. They'll clear 'em off. Look, Clem, I'm sorry I dragged you into this. You don't have to come into the swamp with us. Ain't right, you goin' to all this trouble.'

'Ain't no trouble, Abigail. You folks need help, I'm helping. I'll stay a couple days, help you all get settled.'

/\/

Clem twitched the reins, turning Styx into the road down to the camp and looking forward to the prospect of a hot meal and a wash. Damn if even the rain in this place didn't feel sludgy and greasy against her skin.

A couple days had turned into weeks, the days filled with hunting and patrolling, anything she could do to help keep the camp fed and safe. The nights were filled with a worry she refused to put a name to, but that tore through her chest every time she rode back into camp and saw the silver dapple pinto hitched at the end of the road.

She hadn't meant to stay this long, but they'd been so helpless. Besides Charles and Sadie, and setting aside the one called Uncle's campfire boasting, it seemed none of them was particularly able to defend or feed the camp. Sure, Miss Grimshaw was fearsome with her shotgun, but she couldn't go out and hunt, couldn't patrol the swamps.

Early on, Abigail and Charles had gone into Saint Denis, returning in the small hours with Hosea and Lenny's bodies, already starting to rot in the heat. They'd buried them the next day, Clem watching as the gang huddled together.

She hitched Styx on the opposite side of the road from Artemis, next to a huge piebald horse she didn't recognise. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. There was no guard posted, no one around the makeshift camp.

Moving quietly, she drew her pistol and moved towards the cabin they'd taken to congregating in, the gang seeking reassurance in numbers and Clem somehow feeling as though she needed to keep an eye on them. She put her ear to the door and heard Sadie's voice inside. Relaxing a little, she holstered her pistol and pushed the door open.

'The hell ain't there no one on guard?' she demanded, taking her hat off and shaking her hair out. 'You people wanna get yourselves goddamn caught?' she snapped, yanking her duster off and hanging it by the door.

Silence fell in the cabin before someone cleared their throat. 'Ah… that's my fault, Miss Clementine, ain't no call to go gettin' mad at them.'

Clem turned slowly. Sitting on a bench against the wall, bowl of Pearson's stew in hand and wearing what looked like an incongruously formal shirt and pants, was Arthur Morgan.

'You…' Clem began. 'You're here.'

Arthur stood, handing the bowl off to Abigail and moving across the cabin, the floor creaking under him in the sudden hush. 'I am.'

'Maybe we should-' Abigail began, but Arthur waved her into silence.

'Take a walk with me, miss?' he asked, reaching past Clem and unhooking her duster and hat. He held them out to her, frowning when she simply stared at him. 'Clem?' he asked softly.

Clem reached out and snatched the coat and hat from him, ramming the latter on her head and shoving her arms into the sleeves of the former. Arthur pulled the door open and waved her through ahead of himself. As the door fell closed Clem thought she heard someone let out a low whistle.

They made it just beyond the horses before she couldn't keep it in any longer. 'Where the hell have you been?' she burst out, turning and stopping him in his tracks.

'Guarma,' he said simply.

'Am I supposed to know where that is?'

'It don't matter,' Arthur said. He put his hands on her shoulders, frowning and holding them up in surrender when Clem shrugged them off. 'I do somethin' to offend you, woman?'

'I thought you was dead, Arthur!' Clem snapped. 'I thought you was dead and I -' she stopped, appalled at herself.

Arthur raised his hands again, this time pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her, practically crushing her. Clem fisted her hands in his shirt, as though she could ground him here through sheer force of will.

'Told you before, Miss Warren,' he said, his voice rumbling through his chest and into hers. 'Ain't no call to go worryin' on my account.'

After a few moments, Arthur loosened his arms and Clem stepped back, taking advantage of his lack of a hat to get a proper look at his face for once. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot and his skin almost grey beneath the sunburn. He'd lost weight too, the formal shirt hanging loose around his chest and shoulders.

'What?' he asked.

'You stink,' Clem said, schooling her features and trying to keep her concern out of her voice.

Arthur chuckled roughly, stepping back slightly and making Clem regret her words. 'Imagine I do,' he said, dipping his head. 'Last few weeks I've been shot at, shipwrecked, tortured, starved and God knows what else. Ain't surprising personal hygiene's slipped little, miss.'

Clem shot him a sharp look. 'Tortured?'

'Don't matter,' he said firmly. 'I'm gonna wash up then see about finding Dutch and the others. And then work out what the hell I'm gonna do about Marston.' Clem walked beside him as he headed back into camp. 'You been here this whole time?' he asked, glancing over at her.

'Charles asked me to help out,'

'You didn't have to do that, I know you got your own business to attend to.'

'I wanted to.'

Arthur nodded slowly, as though digesting this information. They walked in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. 'That my shirt?' he asked, eyeing the faded blue fabric Clem had belted about her waist.

Clem flushed, glad he probably couldn't see the colour in the dying light. 'You weren't usin' it.'

'Sure.'

It turned out Arthur didn't need to go looking for the others after all. Micah and Javier turned up an hour or so before a very bedraggled Dutch arrived just after twilight. While Strauss recounted Sadie's part in saving them Clem saw Dutch cast a curious glance her way when he spotted her standing by Arthur. Before Clem could speak up, Miss Grimshaw zeroed in on the look.

'Miss Warren brought Abigail home, Dutch,' she said. 'She's been helping Mrs Adler and Mr Smith see to it we didn't starve.'

Dutch's eyes narrowed minutely at Clem for a moment but whatever he wanted to say was forestalled when Bill slammed the door to the cabin open, storming in and yelling at the top of his voice.

Dutch had finally managed to quiet Bill when a voice sounded outside.

'This is Agent Milton with the Pinkerton Detective Agency! On behalf of Cornwall Kerosene and Tar, the United States Government, and the Commonwealth of West Elizabeth, we are here to arrest you.'

Suddenly Arthur's hand hit Clem's back, winding her and sending her face-first into the rotten floorboards as the cabin air filled with bullets.

The next few moments were a blur. Arthur barked a gruff stay here at Clem as he crawled out of the back door of the cabin after Sadie. Clem drew her pistol, inching toward the cabin's front door on her stomach. The rain of fire from the maxim gun stopped and she heard Arthur and Sadie yelling to one another.

Bill took advantage of the ceasefire to shoulder his way out of the cabin and Clem followed him, ignoring Mary-Beth calling her name as she lined up her first shot.

She saw Arthur shoot a path clear to the maxim gun and drag himself up onto the cart, swinging the gun around and opening fire on the oncoming Pinkertons. Clem fired again and again, ducking behind a broken down overturned cart to reload and catch her breath.

When it was all over she made her way over to the cart. Arthur jumped down and looked her over, checking she was alright. Dutch and the others joined them by the maxim gun, his eyes roving over the bodies as he thanked Arthur for saving them. Arthur waved him off, pointing out that Bill, Sadie and Clem had as much to do with it as he did. This much speech seemed to set something off in him and Arthur began to cough, leaning against the cart for support as Dutch turned away to address the gang.

'You hit?' Clem asked quietly, remembering the wet sound her father made as he lay dying, his chest full of holes.

Arthur spat into the mud. ''m fine,' he mumbled, straightening as Miss Grimshaw bustled over.

'How in the hell did they find us?' Miss Grimshaw demanded.

'Seems someone led them here,' the one called Micah said, sidling up to Dutch.

'Yes,' Dutch said, turning his gaze on Clem. 'It does.'

Arthur saw the look and apparently didn't much like it. 'Dutch -'

'Found this on her horse Dutch,' Micah said, handing him a horribly familiar piece of paper.

Dutch unfolded the rough paper and stared at it a moment, his jaw tensing as he realised what it was. 'Well, well,' he said finally, holding it up so Arthur could see and then waving it around to the gang. 'What do we have here?'

'That? That ain't nothin',' Arthur said, shifting his weight slightly so he was standing just in front of Clem.

Dutch froze, mid-turn. 'You… knew about this?' he said, spinning on his heel to face Arthur. 'You're telling me this... woman has been carrying your bounty poster around for weeks and you knew about it?'

Arthur spread his hands placatingly. 'If she wanted to take me in she coulda done it ten times over already, Dutch.'

'And now she's here and the Pinkertons have suddenly found us. That doesn't strike you as odd, Arthur?'

'No,' the outlaw said stubbornly. 'It don't. They found us at Horseshoe,' Arthur said. 'And again at Clemens Point.'

'Didn't you two lovebirds meet while we were at Horseshoe?' Micah asked.

'Shut up, Micah,' Arthur snapped. He turned his attention back to Dutch. 'I trust her. 'sides it's fairly obvious it was Williamson runnin' his mouth all over town that tipped them off. Look, Dutch -'

'No, you look, Arthur. I don't want to see her here again. It ain't like you, putting our family at risk like this. For all we know this was her plan all along and then she-'

'And then I what, Mr Van der Linde?' Clem snapped, shouldering past Arthur. 'I changed my mind? Felt like shootin' a bunch of 'em instead?'

'You wanna watch your mouth, little girl,' Micah snarled, moving to stand in front of Clem.

Clem's hand automatically dropped to her pistol, Micah's eyes tracking it the whole way. 'I ain't no little girl.'

'That's enough, all of you!' Miss Grimshaw scolded, stepping forward and pushing herself between Clem and Micah. 'We can't go sending a young woman out into the night like that, Dutch. Arthur wouldn't bring someone who was a danger to us here and the girl was helpful, when you gentlemen were… well.'

'Stay out of this, Susan,' Dutch snapped. He stepped forwards, towering over Clem. 'I want you gone from here, miss. You ain't one of us.'

'Fine by me,' Clem said, glaring up at him.

'Dutch!' Abigail protested, stepping forward into Miss Grimshaw's restraining arm.

'It's all right, Abigail,' Clem said, her gaze softening as she looked at the younger woman. 'He's right. I ain't one of you.' She stepped back, tipping her hat, first at Dutch and then at Micah, and inflecting her tone with as much sarcasm as she could muster. 'Gentlemen.'

She was aware of Dutch's eyes on her back all the way to Styx's side. She heard Arthur growl something too low for her to make out the words and then Dutch called for everyone to start cleaning up the camp. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Dutch heading into the cabin, Micah at his side.

'Why'd you still have this?' Arthur said, coming to a stop just behind her.

Clem turned and took the folded paper he was holding out to her. 'Why d'you think?' she snapped.

Arthur coloured and looked down at his boots. 'Don't take Dutch too hard, he's just… trying to protect the gang.'

'He's lost his damn mind. If he ever had one,' Clem said, turning back to Styx and fiddling with the fit of her saddle. 'What y'all did for me before, all I did for them when you was gone, and he thinks I'd betray you.'

Arthur laid a hand over her shoulder, turning her back to face him. 'He's worried. We all are.'

He looked lost, Clem realised. Lost and so tired he was practically swaying. 'You don't have to protect him, Arthur,' she said, softening her voice.

Arthur ducked his head again, hiding his face with the brim of his hat and making Clem want to rip the damn thing off his head. 'Go,' he said. 'Rent a room in Van Horn. I'll find you there day after tomorrow and we'll… talk.' He held out a fistful of dollars. 'Get yourself somethin' to eat.'

That was that then, she supposed. He wouldn't go against Dutch. 'I got my own money,' she said, pushing his hand away. 'You ain't worried about Dutch catchin' you sneakin' out to see the she-devil?' she said unable to keep the disdain from her voice.

Arthur rolled his eyes. 'No, I ain't. Clem... he ain't himself. In Guarma he…' he trailed off, eyes suddenly locked far, far away.

Realising he wasn't going to continue, Clem unhitched Styx. 'Van Horn?' she asked, casting him a look over her shoulder as she mounted up.

Arthur nodded, backing clear of Styx as Clem turned the mare. 'I need to get outta Lemoyne. Damn place is cursed.'

'I'll be there tonight,' Clem said. 'After that-'

'I know.'

Clem nodded once, trying and failing to make Arthur meet her eyes. She tapped her heels against Styx's sides and urged her into a trot, taking the road out of Lakay. As she left the light of camp behind she looked back. Arthur was standing alone by the hitching post, one hand absent-mindedly running down the piebald horse's flank as he stared into the darkness. As she watched, Sadie approached him, handing him a cigarette and drawing him back into camp.

/\/

The night was almost gone and Clem was antsy, sitting on the edge of the single bed and twisting her bandana in her hands. Van Horn was perhaps the roughest of the towns she'd been in recently, walking the streets was a gamble all its own, and rooms in Van Horn were purely functional, sometimes barely even that. This room had a hole in the roof that dripped rain into a bucket, the sound serving to mark time and drive Clem mad in equal measure.

When the knock finally came, Clem shot to her feet, drawing her pistol before opening the door.

Arthur stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind himself. He glanced at Clem's pistol and she holstered it, backing into the room and sitting back down on the edge of the cot.

'Washed your shirt,' she said, nodding to where she'd hung it in front of the fire she'd managed to get going. She sighed. 'Look, Arthur, if you wanna just take it and go-'

'C'mere,' he murmured.

Clem stood, eyeing him warily. 'Arthur-' she barely finished his name before he was suddenly everywhere, his hands closing over her upper arms as he dragged her against himself, crushing her body against his and dipping his face to her neck.

After a moment he stepped back, sighing as he sat on the edge of the bed. The sigh set him to coughing, his eyes watering as he took the flask Clem proffered.

'You still ain't slept,' Clem observed, crossing her arms as she watched him take a long pull of whiskey. 'You look like hell.'

'Reckon I'm sick,' he said. 'Drunk too much seawater. Dutch had us find a new camp. Had a helluva time clearin' it.' He paused. 'He ain't happy about you.'

'I don't give a damn what he thinks of me. I care what you think.'

Arthur sighed heavily. 'You cant come around camp no more. Micah's a snake, hissin' in Dutch's ear. Reckon Dutch'll want to keep me busy too.'

Clem rolled her eyes. 'You don't have to follow him, Arthur. You don't owe him -'

'What?' he said, giving her a challenging look. 'I owe him everything. He and Hosea…' he broke off, looking lost for a moment.

'You need rest, Arthur. Proper rest.'

He reached up and took his hat off. 'Way things are - way Dutch is - ain't gonna be no rest. Not for a long while yet.'

Clem stared at him in silence a while. 'So that's it? Dutch ain't happy so we go our separate ways? How much of your life you gonna give him?'

When he finally looked up at her his eyes still held their lost look. ''I ain't come here to fight, Clem. Reckon I'll sleep a while. I know you're probably lookin' to head off-'

'I'll stay a while,' she said quickly. 'That is… if you want me to?'

Wordlessly he held out a hand, pulling her to the doubtful comfort of the single bed. Clem doused the lamp and they lay down facing one another, arranging themselves carefully around a busted spring.

'We'll be alright,' Arthur murmured. 'Few weeks to let things settle and we'll get away from here..'

'Gang's tired, Arhur. I ain't sure they can do much more runnin'.'

His next words took some time, finally coming out slurred. 'Ain't talkin' 'bout the gang.'

In the light of the fire Clem watched him slip into sleep, keeping her eyes on him until the fire died and the a dirty sun dawned over Van Horn.