Disclaimer: All rights belong to the people who uh. did the movie. ^^
Except for Brooke and Blythe. They are original characters.
This story takes place after the set-up at their bank robbery. Jim and Loni
never got shot. Jesse and Zee never married. If you don't like that. don't
read.
------------------------------
"Not a bad haul this time, boys!" The ever-infamous outlaw, Jesse James, shouted to his fellow gang members as they rode out of a small town in Arkansas.
Only a year ago had these farm boys returned from the Civil War only to find that the railroad was buying off their land at unfair prices. There wasn't a month that had gone by without a hanging in their community for treason. However, when the houses of the farmers were burnt down, the Yankees had crossed the line and Jesse James had started the James-Younger Gang. Now, they were outlaws always being hunted by the Yanks and always seemed to be one step ahead of them.
"How long do y'all think it'll take them to find us?" questioned Jim Younger, the now sixteen-year-old boy who had come along for the fun and to experience the danger but he had come out of this particular bank robbery with a small gunshot scathe in his shoulder.
Cole Younger let out a hearty laugh before looking over at his brother, "I'm sure it won't be long, little brother. But we can really give em' a run for their money!"
Frank noticed Jim's bloody shoulder and raised an eyebrow, "Nasty battle scar, Jimmy. You wanna find an inn or something to get that treated?"
Looking at his shoulder, Jim shrugged as if he didn't care, "Whatever Jesse thinks, I'll go with."
The dark-haired man grinned at the thought. "I sure could go for a good shot of whiskey. Why not? Let's ride!"
With a flood of hoots, the band of desperados went riding down the dirt hill, the stallions kicking up the dust under their hooves. They were carefree and determined to help the farmers that needed the money to support their land and livestock. This was the true nature of the James- Younger Gang.
------------------------------
"Not a bad haul this time, boys!" The ever-infamous outlaw, Jesse James, shouted to his fellow gang members as they rode out of a small town in Arkansas.
Only a year ago had these farm boys returned from the Civil War only to find that the railroad was buying off their land at unfair prices. There wasn't a month that had gone by without a hanging in their community for treason. However, when the houses of the farmers were burnt down, the Yankees had crossed the line and Jesse James had started the James-Younger Gang. Now, they were outlaws always being hunted by the Yanks and always seemed to be one step ahead of them.
"How long do y'all think it'll take them to find us?" questioned Jim Younger, the now sixteen-year-old boy who had come along for the fun and to experience the danger but he had come out of this particular bank robbery with a small gunshot scathe in his shoulder.
Cole Younger let out a hearty laugh before looking over at his brother, "I'm sure it won't be long, little brother. But we can really give em' a run for their money!"
Frank noticed Jim's bloody shoulder and raised an eyebrow, "Nasty battle scar, Jimmy. You wanna find an inn or something to get that treated?"
Looking at his shoulder, Jim shrugged as if he didn't care, "Whatever Jesse thinks, I'll go with."
The dark-haired man grinned at the thought. "I sure could go for a good shot of whiskey. Why not? Let's ride!"
With a flood of hoots, the band of desperados went riding down the dirt hill, the stallions kicking up the dust under their hooves. They were carefree and determined to help the farmers that needed the money to support their land and livestock. This was the true nature of the James- Younger Gang.