CHAPTER VIII
CUMBERLAND FOREST, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 7TH 1900
The sun had completely gone by the time they were all deep in the bush. Cumberland Forest was an enormous labyrinth of giant oak-trees, shrubs, rocks and hills, with a river flowing at the other end that came all the way from Flat Iron Lake. If you didn't run into people hunting prey, you ran into the very prey those people were hunting. Cumberland Forest was awash with cougars, wolves, snakes and even Grizzly's now and then. It was during broad daylight when the forest showed its true beauty, but any time after sundown it became a rather treacherous area.
Within the thick density of shrubs and grass, it was hard to make out which direction they were heading in. Sawyer and Vic were both hogtied by their hands and feet, sat in the back of a wooden horse-carriage which was struggling to make its way through the darkness on a bumpy dirt-path. The only sources of light were the lanterns most of the O'Driscoll's were carrying with them, all of which were trying to be breached by the moths and tiny flies that infested the area.
Vic was still unconscious from the blow to the head in Valentine, so Sawyer sat closely to him to make sure that when he awoke, he awoke the right way and didn't cause any unwanted trouble.
The young renegade couldn't say he was unhappy to leave Valentine behind, its dirty and stinking streets something he was pleased to forget, he just wished he could've left on his own terms. Once again, choices were taken away from Sawyer. And yet again, mostly because of Roland Payne.
Not much further! He heard once of the goons up ahead shout.
There must've been six to seven O'Driscoll's around the carriage they were sat in. Two up on deck holding the reins, another two on each side riding horses and Sawyer was sure there was one more upfront, riding ahead of everyone. They were heavily outnumbered and outgunned given the circumstances, which was why the young outlaw had given up back in the hotel. Now he wasn't entirely sure where he and his unlikely ally were being taken, but there was a small chance it could be to Roland, which was enough for him to come quietly.
Another few minutes dragged by, darkness still the dominant force of the forest with the ride getting even bumpier when the cart clearly left the dirt-path, heading further into the trees. It was then that Vic was finally nudged awake, for the second time that day.
The Tumbleweed Deputy's head was thumping as he jolted up, naturally going for his guns which weren't there, grunting and yelling in confusion.
"Hey, easy!" Sawyer whispered, patting Vic on the shoulder.
Vic shook his head and rubbed his eyes, realising his hands were bound. He looked at Sawyer and then took note of the surroundings, little of which he could really see.
"We're in the Cumberland Forest, Vic." Sawyer explained, thinking it was what the lawman needed.
After catching his breath, noticing the surrounding O'Driscoll's give scowls and filthy looks now that he was awake, Vic tried to move but noticed the lasso around his feet too.
"How'd this fucking happen?" Vic asked, his voice angry but low.
"In that hotel, you got knocked out." Sawyer said, sitting closer, "I had to drop my gun otherwise I'd be a dead man."
Vic closed his eyes to relax his head, "Jesus… So, where we bein' dragged to?"
Sawyer looked around again, still seeing nothing but the lanterns and the few things they illuminated.
"Well my guess is to Roland himself… Which is why I let 'em take us. Could be our chance here." Sawyer replied quietly with such eagerness and almost a hint of excitement.
Vic felt a little pain from his nose, which he quickly realised was slightly bruised and swollen from the hotel room door that sent him into oblivion. Alongside that, his head still felt like there was a hot poker going through it. The deputy had definitely felt better.
"Where's our fucking guns?" Vic asked.
"One of these guy's got 'em. Nothin' we can do right now, deputy." Sawyer explained, sighing with boredom.
The younger man sat back against the rough wood of the carriage, his ribs still aching with pain with every nudge and bump from the ride. Vic sat beside him, head in his forearms, thanks to the rope. The forest became quieter and quieter as they were taken deeper into the woods, just the sounds of small critters and bigger ones far off in the distance to break the silence. That and the occasional grunt and spit from one of the ugly bastards who had them in the cart.
Vic eventually looked up to let the cold air on his face, "You thought've any plans while I've been out?"
Sawyer didn't know how to answer, because he really hadn't given it much thought. The idea of getting to Roland was what had driven him here, but his vengeful mind thought only that it could be the chance to kill him. Not much thought had went on anything else that could get in their way. He wouldn't admit it to Vic, but Sawyer had wanted the deputy awake in order to actually make a plan.
"I was thinkin'… Maybe just improvise?" Sawyer asked with a wince, "Sorta… Make it up as we go?"
Vic turned, Sawyer could feel his glare even in the dark, "You've thought've nothin' have you?"
Sawyer shook his head, hoping the lack of light would make it unnoticeable, but he was mistaken.
"Fuck me… This ain't ever gonna work." Vic groaned.
"Hey, I ain't the one that got taken out by a goddamn door." Sawyer replied with spite.
"It wasn't the door that knocked me out."
"No… It was yourself."
Vic turned again, "What's that mean, kid?"
"If you hadn't stormed to the door, all guns at the ready, maybe the door wouldn't have hit ya. Then you might've been awake enough to fucking help me form some sorta plan on what to do."
Vic found he was a loss for words, being told off by a younger kid. Not the first time, but definitely the first time it had actually hit him a little.
"So, calm the fuck down, Deputy. Don't get up my ass because of the situation neither of us really caused, okay?" Firmly stated the young outlaw, a fire burning inside.
Vic's deadly glare at his younger ally soon formed into another smirk, "Alright, whatever you say, kid."
The deputy then wanted a smoke, but quickly remembered that all of his belongings had been taken, which made him a little extra cranky.
"Just one question… We are gonna kill these motherfuckers, right?" Vic asked of his young companion.
Sawyer scoffed, "Does a whores legs spread?"
Another few long minutes in the cart went by when the two prisoners saw a new light within the darkness. Across the tree-trunks, branches and bushes it was bigger than the lanterns being carried. A further few yards and it became clear it was a campfire, with pieces of wood and piles of rocks placed around the tall, active flame.
Vic checked the place out as best he could. Around the campfire he noticed a big log, on the other side there was a small tent with some wooden crates next to it. Mainly the fire was in front of a small decrepit cabin. Clearly it was a little O'Driscoll hideout, and as Sawyer had said, maybe even Roland Payne's current hideout too.
Sawyer couldn't tell yet if his hunch was right. It looked like any other camp out in the plains of New Hanover. Nothing yet really told it apart from any other. For a minute he even thought he and Vic were being taken there by the O'Driscoll's to be executed for some sick fun. But then again, sick fun was Roland's game, and they were still playing it.
Get 'em over there, one of the O'Driscoll's ordered of his friend, pointing towards the campfire's log.
Vic and Sawyer couldn't do anything but watch and listen, making a break for it now was complete and utter suicide. They couldn't run thanks to the ropes around the feet and couldn't fight because their hands were also bound.
One of the goons, a particularly stinking one, grabbed Sawyer by the scuff and started dragging him out of the back of the horse-cart. Every pull and shove irritated the young outlaw's ribs, which also took away any breath.
"Easy!" Sawyer shouted, a completely useless plea.
The O'Driscoll hoisted him up over his shoulder and carried him off. The pressure of the goon's shoulder into Sawyer's abdomen would've made it impossible to slip away even if he wasn't hogtied. Pain was overpowering everything from the chest to his waist.
When the next O'Driscoll henchman got to the carriage and looked at Vic, he hesitated for a second.
"You best fucking drag me." Vic growled.
The raider looked to one of his buddies and requested a little help. Both the ugly, filthy men dragged Vic out of the cart and threw him into the dirt. The deputy couldn't move due to the binds, forced to just breath in the dirt and dust, coughing it right back up in the process until they finally pulled him to his knees.
"Come on, hurry your asses up!" Shouted the tallest member, seemingly the leader of the small gang.
Just as Sawyer was dropped next to the log, retching up a storm thanks to the sudden burst of pain, Vic was snatched by either side of the shirt's shoulders and dragged across dirt towards the same spot. The maverick lawman's white shirt was now practically brown, with even his badge getting scratched and dirtied.
Once Vic was thrown next to his younger comrade, one of the O'Driscoll's gave him a hard kick into his back. It launched him forward, face first into the dirt once more. Clearly and rather predictably, they weren't a fan of the law.
Vic laughed a concoction of pain and anger, which only served to provoke the marauders even more. The same one that had swung the boot soon pulled out a big hunting knife and crouched right in front of Vic.
"I'll take that smile right off'a your face." He sneered, holding the blade close to the lawman's cheek.
Vic smirked again, opened his mouth to speak and then surprised the raider with a hard headbutt right to the nose. It cracked the bridge instantly, sending blood down and around the ugly man's mouth as he yelled out in pain, stumbling about with his eyes clenched shut.
"MOTHERFUCKER!" He yelled out in painful fury.
One of the other's actually laughed, "He gotcha there!"
"Get yourself together, you fucking idiot!" Shouted the apparent boss.
After a few more seconds, the man who's nose Vic had broken finally opened his now watery eyes, blood leaking across the cheeks and down to the chin. He sheaved the knife and pulled out a Volcanic Pistol, cocking the hammer and aiming at Vic as he did it.
"I'll kill you… Damn fucking pig!" He growled in pure anger, not wanting to let his pride be so squashed.
Put that fucking gun down! Roared a different voice.
The embarrassed O'Driscoll stopped instantly, all anger turning to dust and his injured face dropping. All six others also froze, turning towards the broken-down cabin a few feet away from the campfire.
Vic was confused yet intrigued, but Sawyer sat as still as the oak-trees all around. The voice all too familiar.
Soon what would class as the cabin's door soon swung open with a bang, and out walked Roland Payne. At first, he was just a silhouette to the two captives, having to duck just to exit the wooden structure that he was almost as tall as. While Sawyer saw exactly what he remembered, Vic was finally feasting his eyes on the target he was there for.
Payne walked further towards the campfire, which finally illuminated him completely. Built like a stocky grizzly bear, with the eyes of a cougar that had never slept, he certainly lived up to the stories and tales told from there all the way back to Tumbleweed. Every step he took towards the fire had made an intimidating thud on the gravel. Payne had dried blood on his ragged beige shirt and even some across his face and beard.
"Well… I'll be damned." He said, his voice still the deep and gnarly one that Sawyer recognised.
The young renegade couldn't look up. Not yet. The whole situation didn't feel completely real to him. Instead he decided to stare at the ground he was kneeling on, feeling the hotness of the fire on his back, causing a second layer of sweat.
Vic on the other hand, did keep his eyes on Payne. He was observing his target just as much as he was reading him. Already the deputy was thinking up ways on how he would take down such a beast of a man. In all his years as a lawman, he could not remember encountering a bigger, more grim looking individual.
"That you, boy?" He said, his voice loud but not even shouting.
Sawyer didn't respond.
Payne sneered with his rotten teeth, "I don't remember ripping out your tongue."
Vic watched in the corner of his eyes to the right as Payne approached Sawyer, like a wolf stalking its next meal.
"Look at me." Payne said quietly to the kid.
Sawyer still didn't reply or look up from the ground.
"SPEAK WHEN YOU'RE SPOKEN TO!" Roland exploded, crouching and clutching Sawyer by the lower jaw, forcing the outlaw to look him in the eyes.
Everyone else around, including Vic couldn't help but just be quiet and let it play out. The Tumbleweed Deputy thought of any possible way to get him and Sawyer outer the hole they were stuck in. As it stood, nothing was coming to mind.
Sawyer's already bruised face felt like it was about to pop with the pressure of Roland's hand getting tighter and tighter around his jaw. All he could do was stare into the eyes of his former companion. Even his eyes had gotten worse since their last encounter. They were even redder around the edges, looking as if they were sore from lack of sleep. They'd even sunken further into his head in the days since. And yet, the wanted beast didn't even seem to blink at any point.
"Yeah that's right… Look at me you little shitstick…" Payne said quietly, his breath actually dampening the young outlaws face.
Sawyer still hadn't tried to speak. He didn't even really want to, now that he expected death to come sooner than later.
"Tougher than I remember, getting all that way from where I left ya." Payne whispered, his hand still tight on Sawyer's jaw, "But what'd you do, huh? Instead of comin' straight after me, you go rat out to the goddamn law?"
"Wasn't the case, asshole." Vic suddenly spoke up.
Roland turned his head to Vic in a flash. Sawyer then felt relieved when the grasp of Payne's hand let go.
Payne, still crouching down, moved closer to the deputy. The big man inspected the badge and then gave Vic the same cold and evil stare that he had given his former outlaw partner. Unlike Sawyer however, Vic returned the eyes without fear, not blinking or flinching for a moment.
"What was that? What'd you call me?" Roland asked firmly, wanting Vic to repeat what he had said.
Vic kept the stare for a moment, "What're you deaf?"
That response caused Roland to clench his teeth with anger, his face turning a little red. Even in the night's darkness, Vic could see it.
The O'Driscoll with the broken nose then chose to aim his Volcanic at the back of Vic's head again.
"Want me to kill this cocksucker, Roland?!" He asked, yelling while still clutching his face.
Roland's attention was snatched away from Vic, which he wasn't all too pleased about. The unhinged fugitive responded to his henchman by aiming his own Double-Action Revolver right at him. The O'Driscoll froze like a statue, confused and scared. By trying to defend Payne, he'd crossed him. Something only Sawyer could really relate to.
"You say one more fucking word… Or wave that gun around again… And I'll cook your face on that goddamn fire." Said the beast, through gritted brown teeth.
Shaking and afraid, the O'Driscoll quickly lowered the gun and instinctively moved slightly away from the campfire. Soon, Roland turned his corpse-like eyes back to Vic.
"Who the hell are you, anyway? And what you doing with this little pissant?" Asked Payne, pointing to Sawyer.
Vic looked at Sawyer and then back to Roland, "Name's Vic Noble, Deputy from New Austin. Me and him, we're both looking for you. You're obviously Roland Payne."
Roland listened carefully, his eyes squinting for once.
"I gotta say, boy." Vic looked Roland up and down, "Ain't impressed."
Sawyer, his head still down, tightened his eyes. Vic didn't understand who he was provoking, and he wished he could've told him that. But he still dared not speak.
Payne smiled again, this time licking the corner of his bearded mouth, "New Austin, huh? That's a long way to go just to try and bring me in."
"Who said anything about bringing you in?"
Payne stared at Vic again before abruptly clutching him by the throat. The lawman didn't see it coming, so it took him by a surprise. Payne pushed Vic onto his back and kept adding pressure to his wind-pipe.
As Vic tried to breathe, coughing and gagging as much as he could, Payne snarled with enjoyment. At one-point the monster even drooled from his mouth without even realising. The strength of his grip and the powerful weight of his body actually frightened Vic, who's vision started to fade a little.
Sawyer watched painfully, and finally knew he had to do something to help.
"Real fucking impressive, Roland!" Sawyer shouted, without looking.
The O'Driscoll's nearby all looked at the young outlaw again. What he said had actually caused Payne to stop what he was doing again.
Releasing Vic's throat, Roland moved back up to face the kid. The Tumbleweed deputy however stayed down, gasping for air the second he was able to.
"That voice… Still fucking irritating." Said the evil outlaw.
"Likewise." Sawyer replied.
"Impressive? That what you said, boy?"
"Damn right. It's good to see you've stepped your game up again from helpless women and children."
Payne grinned to himself with wide eyes, "That was on you, Sawyer."
That hurt. Even caused the kid to look at the ground again.
"What was the plan then, huh?" Payne asked, "Go rat me out to these fucking Marshall cocksuckers, then come to watch me hang?"
"No… It's just time, Roland." Sawyer sighed, still looking down.
"Time?"
"Yeah, it's time." The young outlaw finally looked up again, "Time for you to get in the fucking ground, right where you should'a been a long time before now."
Payne's smirk dropped and turned into deep frown. Sawyer then took a hard slap across the cheek, so fast it was like Payne's arm didn't move.
"And who's gonna do that then, huh?" Payne said, quickly with anger, "You? Don't make me fucking laugh, you know I don't like laughing."
Sawyer grinned himself, "Could be me. Could be my friend here. But believe me, Roland… You're already dead. You're walking in a pair of a dead man's boots."
Payne listened and for once seemed genuinely hit by what he'd been told. He looked at Sawyer with wonder, confused as to whether the blow to the face he gave him days before had changed him into somebody else.
The two stared at each other with equal contempt and resentment for a time that seemed like an age. Even the sounds of Vic still breathing heavy and the crackles of the campfire were drowned out by pure hatred.
"You know… I'd love to just kill you right here and now, boy." Payne whispered before grabbing Sawyer by the head with both hands, "But I want to see you try! Try and do what you're tellin' me!"
Vic had finally caught his breath and was laying on his back, watching closely.
"Here's what's gonna happen, Sawyer… I'm gonna get on my horse and get outer here, because me and my boys here we got a job to do." Payne said, his voice rasping with anger, "I'm gonna have the one's who stay behind scalp your little Marshall buddy there… And then they're gonna break your leg. Because I wanna know that you're still out there… Crawling to get to me, trying with every little bit of pathetic energy you have to find me."
Sawyer, face still clasped by Payne's hands, smirked again, "Why? You forgotten how to kill?"
Payne let one hand go of Sawyer, unholstered his Double-Action again and shot the O'Driscoll with the broken nose directly in the forehead. His body hit the floor with such a thud that his peers had to waft away the dust. Vic managed to get back to his knees and looked on at what Roland had done with such bewilderment and shock, as did the other goons. The only man that hadn't flinched at the Payne's actions was Sawyer himself.
"Thanks." Sawyer whispered, "That's one less for us to worry about."
Payne smiled once more time, "Do your best, boy. I wanna fucking see it."
Sawyer was thrown backwards to the dirt hard by Payne who then stood back to his feet and walked away from both him and Vic. The Tumbleweed Deputy was a weird mixture of pissed-off and stunned. Not since his early days as a lawman had he been that intimidated by a target. The tales all carried truth, Roland Payne was a physical demon, not to be taken lightly in any way.
"How's the neck?" Sawyer asked quietly, managing to get back to his knees again.
"Not broken, so good I'd say. Thanks, kid." Vic replied, grateful for Sawyer's actions.
Any and all doubt in Vic's mind about Sawyer's allegiance was now gone. As he was being throttled, the kid had stepped in to save him. The deputy had watched and listened as Payne proved his hatred towards Sawyer, going as far as to let him live just to know he would be suffering. There was no wonder left as to how the stories of Roland Payne had managed to spread all the way to the furthest corners of New Austin. The man was completely deranged.
"What're we gonna do, Vic?" Sawyer asked the deputy, his eyes still fixed on Roland.
Vic didn't have a response right away, so got to thinking fast. One thing that finally stuck out in his mind was that these O'Driscoll's had, very stupidly, tied his and Sawyer's hands together, but at the front.
"Our hands." Vic whispered, "The ropes."
Sawyer looked down at his binds and back to Vic with a puzzled face.
"We could choke 'em?" Vic said with a little mental exhaustion.
After a moment of silent consideration, Sawyer gestured a thumb to Vic before noticing Roland and one of the O'Driscoll's chatting next to bald man's horse. It was still as rough and deadly looking as he was. Its eyes were still a pinkish-red and its hair was still patchy and unkempt.
You'll get your fucking money once you help me, Roland said.
There voices were far away but close enough to hear as long as Sawyer and Vic paid full attention.
You asked for the kid, we got him, dared reply the goon.
And now you help me break the bank, Roland growled, almost an order.
"Bank?" Sawyer said aloud to both Vic and himself, very quietly.
You round up whatever fuckheads you got and we break that place open, Payne said, his finger hitting the O'Driscoll's chest.
I ain't your errand boy, replied the raider just as Roland was about to step into the stirrups.
Payne grabbed the O'Driscoll's jacket with both hands and pulled him close, almost nose to nose.
You're exactly what I say you are, boy. Understand me? Roland said again.
No response, nothing to say, the O'Driscoll just nodded quickly, giving up. Roland sharply let him go and climbed up into the saddle.
"You two!" The O'Driscoll boss then shouted, pointing at a duo of his men, "You follow this man! Do exactly as he says!"
Quickly and without question, the other two O'Driscoll heavies unhitched their horses, saddled up and trotted over to Roland. This left only four trenchcoated scumbags to watch over the two bound captives.
"Make sure the pig don't leave this place!" Roland ordered before pointing to Sawyer, "And make damn sure he lives… But wishes he were dead."
Sawyer gave Payne one finally look of death, but didn't know whether it was returned or not, now that the wanted man was again a hulking silhouette.
Both Roland and the two O'Driscoll's then galloped off away from the scene, the sounds of their horses on the ground getting fainter and fainter as the seconds went by.
As the next ten to fifteen minutes crawled by, Vic and Sawyer were still on their knees next to the campfire, which was starting to getting smaller as it hadn't been tended to for some time. The remaining O'Driscoll's had started gathering their stuff from the tent and the cabin, obviously wanting to leave their two captives until last.
Alongside the twinges in his ribs, Sawyer's knees were also starting to ache. He was waiting for the right opportunity to make a move, as was Vic. But neither had seen what they were waiting for yet. They couldn't even communicate any longer as there was one ugly raider still keeping close watch, sitting on the log across from them, spitting on the dying fire. In his hand he was wielding the Volcanic pistol that he'd picked up from his dead buddy.
Eventually, the others had finally slung the burlap sacks onto their horses and hooked them to the saddle horns.
"Come on then, let's get this over with." Said the watching O'Driscoll, now standing up.
Vic looked at him with a newfound sense of worry, a feeling he hadn't had for as long as he could remember. The Tumbleweed Deputy wasn't allowed to live. He was the one who had to die. Now Vic was facing the idea of coming all the way from home for absolutely nothing. Faced with death.
"Stay still, I'll make it quick." The O'Driscoll said nonchalantly.
Vic started to shake a little, he even turned sharply to Sawyer, expecting the young outlaw to be able to do something. All his comrade could do was watch with equally wide eyes.
None of the other raiders were even watching, one of which had already got onto his horse, making sure the sacks were strapped tight enough.
Vic had to say something, he had to offer them something, he thought. But even in the face of death, Vic's pride wouldn't seem to budge.
The maverick lawman waited as the O'Driscoll stepped behind him, hearing the Volcanic pistol cock its hammer.
Then there was a strange sound. Like a clap in the wind followed by a funny squelch. No gunshot had went off. Vic and Sawyer were puzzled just as damn much as the O'Driscoll's across the camp.
Both the deputy and the outlaw turned to the former's executioner and saw an arrow had punctured straight through his left eye. In a matter of milliseconds, the gun had dropped to the ground and the body with it.
"AMBUSH!" Roared the O'Driscoll on horseback.
In a blind panic, the three living marauders scrambled around in the ever-growing darkness, waving their weapons at the trees and shrubs around them to find where the arrow had came from.
Vic had thrown himself fully onto the floor by instinct after seeing the arrow. He then quickly noticed the loaded Volcanic pistol.
"Sawyer!" He yelled.
As the young outlaw looked, Vic kicked the gun across to him and he took it fast, pulling the hammer back again.
Sawyer pointed the gun as fast as he could, while maintaining good aim. He fired, shooting one of the O'Driscoll's in the top of their spine, sending him flying dead onto his face. With that, the remaining two noticed Sawyer was armed and aimed their rifle and revolver respectively at their captive. Sawyer quickly pulled the trigger first, hitting the last standing goon directly in the throat.
"Just one left!" Vic yelled out, trying to crawl out of the firing line.
Sawyer didn't need to fire, as a second arrow then came flying out from the trees and into the saddled O'Driscoll's back, puncturing so hard that it came through the chest too, sending him off the horse and into the gravel.
As the two captives knelt and lay there in awe, they watched the trenchcoated man with the hole in his throat stumble around, leaving a big trail of blood, trying to get away from the scene. Before long, not even out of camp, he collapsed dead.
"You a'ight?" Sawyer turned and asked with genuine concern.
Vic was still making sense of everything, laying on his side, perplexed.
"Vic… You okay?"
"I'm dandy, kid. Just dandy." Vic replied with a big sigh.
Sawyer looked around at the trees and bushed that were shrouded in blackness.
"You can show yourself now!" The young man shouted, aiming the Volcanic.
Both men waited patiently, hearing twigs snap and bushes shake to their right side. There was a small figure making their way out, wearing a hat that seemed a little too big.
Being the ever-deducing lawman, Vic knew who it was before they even really appeared.
"What in the fuck… Are you doing here?!" The deputy yelled in shock.
"Saving your fucking ass, it looks!" Ellie Kennedy replied, putting her bow back over her shoulders, "You're welcome!"
Sawyer was badly confused, still clutching at the Volcanic pistol, "Am I missing somethin' here?"
Vic groaned as he got back up to his knees, "Friend of mind, from back out West."
Ellie giggled, "Try the closest he has to a friend."
She was wearing a dark-yellow shirt, sleeves rolled up. It would be quite pretty on her if not for the dirt and grime, from what was most certainly a hunting trip. Though she wore the same black jeans from home, her hat was the thing that looked more out of place than a priest in a duel.
"Where'd you get that thing?" Vic had to ask, nodding at the hat.
Ellie's eyes looked up to it, "Traded a dead rabbit for it back in that town, I forget its name. Smells like fucking shit? Lots a boring people?"
"Valentine?" Sawyer told her, lowering the gun.
"Yeah, that's the place."
Vic winced, "You've been following us since we left Valentine?"
She glared at the deputy, "Vic I've been following you since you left Tumbleweed."
Vic couldn't say that he was surprised in the slightest. It was exactly like Ellie to defy anything an adult said, especially him.
"Your mother know where you are?" He asked.
"Fuck no."
All three took a moment of silence to gather their thoughts and themselves, especially the two still-hogtied men.
"Got a knife, miss?" Sawyer asked, a little intimidated.
Ellie shot Sawyer a funny smile, almost as if he should've known she had a knife. The youthful hunter pulled out a small blade and got to cutting the binds on Sawyer and Vic quickly.
"Who are you then?" She asked the outlaw.
"I'm nobody, miss. Absolutely nobody."
"Nobody's nobody." She said before turning to Vic, "Who is he?"
"Never you mind, Ellie. Just hurry up with the knife, I've forgotten what it feels like to walk." The deputy replied with such fatigue.
Once Sawyer was cut free, he lay on his back, spreading all limbs out. The outlaw was astonished he and Vic were still in one piece, so took the time to rest.
Ellie then got to work on her friend's roped hands and feet.
"I just saved both you guys, now you gotta let me in the loop!" She said to Vic, so eager and so interested.
"Later." He replied, calmly waiting.
Soon, Vic was free of his binds and stood up to his feet, and Ellie with him.
"Come on, Vic. You fucking owe me for what I just done!" Ellie said, voice raised, showing her age again.
"Sawyer…" Vic said, taking the outlaws attention, "Gun."
Sawyer quickly threw the Volcanic pistol up into Vic's hand. The Tumbleweed lawman then swiftly moved Ellie out of his way.
"What're you doin'?" She asked, annoyed.
Vic then shot the O'Driscoll with the arrow through his chest, this time hitting the head. He'd still been alive and had his rifle aimed in Ellie's direction. The gunshot made both the hunter and the outlaw jump outer their skin.
Vic then looked back to Ellie, "Now we're even."