Sadie watched the rain pummel the ground, flooding the camp with large puddles. The storm had started near dusk and it hadn't let up since, making it hard for Sadie to see anything from her position on the porch. When the wind had picked up in great sweeping gusts, all the gang members who remained at camp had retreated into the house to bunker down for the night.

Sadie was the only one to volunteer to keep watch. It suited her fine because she didn't sleep much these days. However, guard duty always left her too idle and her mind grew wandering.

The others had gone to bed by now. Susan had stayed up with her for awhile, buzzing around until Sadie snapped at her. Susan had retreated into the house with a huff, joining the rest who had grown restless since Dutch and the other men's departed.

Sadie hadn't been invited on their raid, but she wasn't surprised by the decision. Despite some of Dutch's more open-minded ideas on women, he didn't see them as fighters, even when they proved themselves capable.

In his mind, women did the sewing, the washing, and the upkeep. Some of the girls got away with smaller jobs like pick-pocketing. If they were lacking any other skill, they made do with eavesdropping. Admittedly, some of that gossiping had amounted to jobs the men picked up, but that was usually as far as any of the women got with their contributions.

Except Karen managed to insert herself in some action now and then. Sadie had heard about her part in a bank robbery in Valentine after they'd left.

Even so, Karen had to pursue that herself and push back against Bill wanting to take control and leave her behind. When Arthur got involved, he didn't seem to care one way or another as long as everyone did their job right. Over the couple months Sadie had spent time with the gang, she observed Arthur seemed to hold a higher regard for those who worked, man or woman.

That's why it threw her when he'd introduced a soft lady to these outlaws. Charlotte, a woman who was clearly not meant for this life. She didn't whine or loaf around like Miss O'Shea, but she didn't have the skills for survival, especially when Sadie was well aware how they were on the run.

"No sign of them?"

Abigail had joined her on the porch, staring hard into the night as if she could summon the men back.

"Nothing yet."

"Knowing John, he's probably done something stupid and delayed everything."

"Maybe."

Abigail fell silent beside her, biting her lip worriedly.

Sadie was unsure how else to respond. She still hadn't learned how to connect with these people, even Abigail, who had been nothing but kind to her since her arrival. She'd been distrustful of others and their intentions since she was a child.

Jake had been the social one, the one who...who could sit and talkto people as if he'd known them his whole life. He'd always been the one giving any penniless drifter the benefit of the doubt. In the end, it was his willing hospitality that had led to his death. He shouldn't have opened the door to those O'Driscoll assholes.

The other day, after Kieran's murder, Mary-Beth had tearfully asked Sadie why she hadn't moved on from this life, asking if she had family. She'd had to stop and think about it for awhile and still hadn't come up with a solid reason.

It was true Sadie's parents weren't alive anymore, but she did have a sister out west. Last she'd heard, Emma was having baby number three.

Jake had even less family than her. He was raised by an uncle who'd passed, leaving Jake the farm as an inheritance. Sadie hadn't liked the farm at first. She was no city girl, but it had been tough work getting the place into shape after Jake's uncle let it deteriorate in his age.

Sometimes she thought maybe it was a good thing the farm burned down. It made it easy for her not to linger and cling to the painful memories. She'd left with nothing from the house. Not even a damn picture. She'd been in too much shock to think of grabbing anything when Dutch and Arthur had bundled her away. Now she was too afraid to go back and see the aftermath of its destruction.

The wind had died down, but the rain fell like a curtain. Even so, Sadie could still make out a wagon with no lantern turning and rolling its way down the path leading up to the house.

"It's them!" exclaimed Abigail, unable to hide her relief.

"Hold on. Don't get too excited." Sadie stood as the wagon drew near, lifting her rifle. "Who's out there?"

"It's Lenny, Mrs. Adler!" the young man called through the roar of the rain. "With Miss Charlotte. Just us two."

Sadie raised a brow at the distinction. Just us two. Where the hell was everyone else then?

Abigail was of the same mindset as her eyes strayed over the wagon. She didn't bother with niceties as the two hastened to reach the porch through the downpour.

"Where's everyone else? Where's John?" At her lover's name, her pitch heightened in panic.

"What's going on?" Sadie asked sharply.

"Trouble," Lenny answered grimly. "Real trouble."

"Tell us," Sadie demanded.

Lenny shook his head. "John and Hosea were supposed to meet up with us outside Saint Denis, but we waited a few hours and they never showed."

Lenny went off describing a sequence of events that didn't make sense. Sadie could hardly keep up with one detail before he gave her another, of them leaving, the Pinkertons ambushing the town, of fleeing officers, and an explosion.

"We lost Swanson."

Abigail paled, her eyes widened and her chest rose. "What?"

Lenny added quickly, "No, no. I mean, we lost him. He was behind us one minute and gone the next." He paused and said hesitantly, "With the money."

Sadie's gaze moved to Charlotte, who hadn't said a word as of yet. Her money. How did she feel that the crazy reverend had made off with it?

Personally, it wasn't Sadie's concern. Dutch had announced some grand schemes, but she'd never had any intention in sailing off to the tropics. That would have been where they parted ways. She was fine making it on her own, if need be.

"He didn't take it out of intentional malice," Charlotte spoke up for the first time. "Arthur handed him the pouch for safe-keeping before we ran."

Odd that she defended a drunken bastard who Sadie had never seen show his good faith to the gang. In fact, she'd witnessed a time or two where he'd been dipping his grubby hands into the contributions box without concern for the others.

"What about Hosea?" Abigail demanded. "He and John were supposed to stick together."

"I'm sorry, Miss Roberts. I just don't know," Lenny admitted apologetically before he warned, "But those Pinkertons ain't gonna be too far behind us."

"Ain't no one else traveling in this shit 'cept those desperate for shelter," Sadie said reasonably. "The best thing you two can do right now is get some sleep. I'm sure the rest of the fellas will turn up in the morning."

"But—"

Sadie said firmly, "We'll decide what to do in the morning."

Sadie hoped she was right, that the others were only detained by some inconvenience and not arrested or killed. At dawn, she discovered the extent of their troubles.

Everyone else was awake at this point, despite the early hour, and gathered together downstairs, as if to take comfort in each other's presence. Whether it was from the heat and humidity or the uncertain turn of events, everyone was subdued.

Unusually, the women were hardly speaking. Karen stood beside a window, smoking, while Charlotte seemed lost in thought staring outside. Tilly and Mary-Beth sat together, but their anxious eyes darted around the room. Even Jack allowed his mother to hold and rock him without trying to scramble away.

Grimshaw for once wasn't on a tirade for their lack of work ethic. Pearson and Strauss tried having a conversation about fish before falling silent. Lenny paced anxiously across the floor. The only one who seemed the least concerned was damn Uncle passed out in a corner of the room.

Standing by her own window, Sadie watched Charles ride in on a saddle-less horse she didn't recognize. As he dismounted, she noticed the suit he'd left in was plastered to his skin. She could see the lines of his muscular arms and shoulders distinctly.

By this time, the rain had stopped, but the morning remained dreary and the humidity had risen to a nearly unmanageable level, making it impossible not to feel sticky with sweat.

Charles entered the house, making his presence known to everyone else. They stood at attention, awaiting the news of their friends. Charles' gaze swept across each anxious member of the gang, as if deciding on his words.

"We have trouble," he confirmed to all of them grimly.

"That's what I've been trying to say all night," Lenny said impatiently.

"They were ready for us to rob that bank," Charles continued. "If the Pinkertons have any ideas as to where to search, they'll be headed this way soon."

The group broke into talk and shared desperate looks, as if seeking someone to tell them what to do. Sadie expected Grimshaw to jump at the chance to boss everyone around, but her face had taken on her namesake: grim, but also shaken and fearful.

His tone full of regret, Pearson suggested, "Maybe it's time we all went our separate ways."

Grimshaw swung around on him, shocked. "Mr. Pearson! I won't hear that kind of blasphemy! And from you of all people. The family sticks together."

"But we can't stick around here for much longer," Sadie pointed out. "Charles and Lenny said as much."

"We wait for Dutch," Grimshaw stated obstinately.

"If we wait," protested Lenny, "we might as well hand ourselves over."

Charles informed them, "Waiting for Dutch is an empty occupation. He and the rest were headed for the docks, with a plan to get on a boat."

Abigail frowned. "John too?"

"No, not John," he said without elaboration.

"But he is alive?" Abigail asked.

"Last I saw," Charles hedged, but it seemed enough to satisfy Abigail.

"We have to leave," Sadie declared. "And sooner rather than later. Susan, get everyone to packing."

Miss Grimshaw crossed arms. "Last I checked, you ain't the boss around here, miss."

"Do you wanna get caught?" argued Sadie. "'Cause, like I said, that's what's gonna happen if we stick around much longer."

"Sure, we can leave," said Tilly, "But where can we go?"

"I may be able to help in that regard, Miss Jackson." Of all people, Strauss joined the conversation.

Sadie rested a hand on her hip. "Speak up then."

"There's a set of livable buildings in Lakay," he told them. "The locals are afraid of the area. There are claims of people hearing and seeing ghosts, so the property has lost its appeal."

Ghosts? Sadie narrowed her eyes, unsure if she wanted to take him at his word. "I've heard of it, didn't hear about no hauntings, but it's deeper in the swamps."

"Deeper than this?" asked Mary-Beth in disgust.

"We'd be living right on top of the water."

Sadie didn't know if the information was of any value, being gossip and scary stories, but they sure as shit couldn't stay here. If anything, Lakay could be temporary until they had time to seek something better.

"It can't hurt to take a look," Charles offered.

"Right." To the group as a whole, she said, "Charles and I will check it out. If it's fine, whoever wants to come, can come, and whoever wants to go their own way can do that instead."

Miss Grimshaw clenched her jaw as if she were going to make it her personal mission to convince everyone of them to stick together. In fact, she started barking orders then and there, seemingly back to her over-bearing self as she pushed and smacked the women into action.

Sadie's eyes caught Charlotte, who had somehow escaped Grimshaw's wrath. Sadie hesitated before following Charles out the door. Charlotte had stopped to stare at Javier's wanted poster on the peeling wall of the hallway. Javier had placed it there with a bellow of pride at the high amount of his bounty.

Sadie wondered if this woman was regretting ever setting eyes on Arthur Morgan and getting swept into this mess. She had half a mind to leave her to her devices, but Arthur had put up a fuss about keeping her safe.

It was enough of a reminder to have Sadie offering, "Lenny could drop you off in Rhodes while me and Charles are gone."

Lenny, like everyone else, had already left the house to start packing up, but a quick ride to Rhodes wouldn't take long. He'd surely be back before her and Charles returned.

Clear, green eyes turned to Sadie. "That's not necessary."

Sadie raised a questioning brow.

"What I mean to say is," Charlotte squared her shoulders. "I offered Arthur my help. I can certainly extend that offer to that of his friends."

Sadie didn't quite understand the compulsion to remain when, from her understanding, Charlotte had her own house waiting for her and a distinct life outside of crime.

But she also wasn't going to stand here and argue over it. If the woman's mind was made up to stay, Arthur could be the one who pulled her from it.

"Fine with me what you want to do. If you're stayin', talk to Susan about what needs to be done."

Setting out from Shady Belle, Sadie didn't ask Charles if he needed rest. He'd been here longer than she had so they both knew the procedure when it came to running. Charles had to come because, besides Lenny, ain't none of the others were as capable.

One thing she liked about Charles was he didn't feel the need to fill any silences with small talk. He didn't have anything to say to her and she didn't have anything to say to him. They had a job to do and they rode hard to Lakay.

They spotted two patrols on their journey, but both were headed south, towards Saint Denis. Once they were fully in the bayou, they had to slow, but from what they saw none of the law made it their prerogative to go this far into swampy grounds.

"There's something else," Charles spoke up when they were forced to slow further over more uncertain terrain. "I didn't want to bring it up in front of the others."

Sadie gave him a sidelong look. "I thought you were dancin' around something."

"John was taken in, trying to find a way back to Shady Belle."

Sadie's eyebrows rose. It was a good thing he hadn't said anything. Abigail would be having a fit. "Who's got him?"

Charles shook his head. "We overheard some Pinkertons talking. Maybe it wasn't him, but Arthur sure seemed to think it was."

"We can't do nothing for him right now. We'll have to figure out something once we're settled."

She noticed his distraction and prompted bluntly, "What else?"

Charles turned his gaze to meet hers. "John came back to help us, but got into it with Dutch, blaming the presence of so many lawmen on what Dutch did to Bronte. He left...and not on good terms."

Sadie resisted rolling her eyes. There was always some drama between these boys. "Let's focus on getting ourselves situated and we can worry about the others later."

The ground began squelching under the horses hooves and Sadie worried briefly they'd gone the wrong direction. After a few minutes winding through the mud, the buildings Strauss described came into view.

They dismounted near a chicken coop and Sadie surveyed the land. "Well, this place is a shithole."

"Yeah," Charles agreed, his observant eyes darting keenly around. "But it's the best we've got right now. It's not too far to move everyone quickly."

As long as the wagons didn't get stuck along the way. They might have to stash them on drier ground and have everyone ride in separately.

Her thoughts on the moving plan were interrupted as they approached the door to the main building and the door swung open on its own.

Ghosts?

Instead, two fellas in the middle of a conversation with each other exited and stopped fully when they caught sight of Charles and Sadie.

Their hands rested on their guns. "Who the hell are you two?"

Sadie had lifted her shotgun already, but Charles raised a hand and responded in his usual calm manner, "We're travelers, looking for a place to stay. We didn't know the land was taken. We'll be on our way."

"Put yer gone down, woman. I ain't gonna ask you twice."

Sadie spit and moved the barrel to point at the one who spoke. "You ain't even asked me once, you piece of shit."

Charles gave her a look, clearly wanting her to keep the peace, but she didn't like the look of these two and she knew why in the next moment.

The other stated, "You're in the wrong part of the country, friends, and they'll be consequences for challenging us."

The one Sadie had her gun trained on nodded. "You don't recognize us, but you know our leader. Everyone does and they run screaming when they hear his name." A grin full of holes appeared. "Colm O'Driscoll."

It was only the second time catching up to these bastards since the fire. She felt the same dormant emotions rise again as they had when the O'Driscolls had attacked Shady Belle. Her mind burned with hate and she saw red. "You really shouldn't've told me that."

"Why not?" he sneered.

"'Cause now I don't give a rat's ass 'bout killin' you." She pumped the shotgun and blasted him, hitting his gut square on.

The other lifted his pistol before she set her sights on him, but Charles was quicker. Faster than the eye could follow, he snapped a knife from his belt and flung it, burrowing it in the man's chest.

Without another word, Sadie marched up to the corpses. She was going to make sure they were dead. She pulled the knife out and stabbed him again until she was sure he wasn't moving. She moved to the other man, but there was no life there.

She released a huff of frustration and moved into the cabin to rapidly search the place. No one else was holed up in here and there was no sign of any other occupants. Two. Only two of them bastards when there was always more. She wanted there to be more. To make them pay.

Sadie turned and used her gun to sweep everything off of a nearby table with an animalistic yell. Empty cans and bottles tumbled to the floor. She knocked over the table next, flinging it so aggressively it tumbled into the wall.

"What are you doing?"

She turned to find Charles in the room with her suddenly. She choked on her words, full of all this unfettered rage and frustration and pain. Her hands trembled so much she dropped her gun. Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She was going to pass out if she didn't divert this aggression in some way.

She wanted to feel more than this hatred all the time. She wanted to feel normal again. But most of all, she wanted to forget why these dark emotions rose so strongly in the first place.

Sadie strode up to Charles, grabbed his lapels and smashed her lips on his. She'd shocked him so much that it was like kissing a statue at first until he lifted his hands to her shoulders.

"Stop," he murmured after a minute, his hot breath mingling with hers, but she pressed closer.

"Stop," Charles repeated firmly and pushed her from him this time. He clenched her wrists to hold her in place as his brown eyes compelled her brain to function again. "This isn't what you want, Mrs. Adler."

Mrs. Adler.

The name brought her senses back faster than a wound to the gut. Charles was right. This wasn't what she wanted. But she hated that he'd realized it and stopped her before she stopped it herself.

Annoyed at herself more than him, Sadie tore away and screeched, "Get off me!"

Shame coursed through her, hot and unpleasant, sending prickles down her arm. She stared at her hands and whispered, "What have I done?"

"You've done nothing wrong."

That burned her more. Charles clearly wasn't affected by her foolish stupidity as he'd seen right through her. Her actions were a betrayal of her husband's memory, even if no feelings were attached.

"Sadie."

Self-hatred and hurt twisted her stomach as she lashed out, "Leave me alone!"

Sadie hoped Charles would go away so she could collect herself, but he did something worse. He hugged her. His compassion embarrassed her and she struggled against him. But Charles' large arms held firm and at last she quit resisting and allowed the simple comfort he provided her.

Her body betrayed her next and tears filled her sight. She admitted bitterly, "I don't even got a goddamn picture of him."

"Was there nothing left to go back to?" Charles asked, knowing she'd referred to her husband.

"I can't go back."

It would wreck her to see the life she'd once had in shambles and destruction. Dutch had told her he'd sent someone to bury her husband proper, but she didn't dare visit. If she knelt next to Jake's grave, she'd never stand up again. She was already a shell of her former self.

Once he saw her calmed down, Charles released her. She moved away, not meeting his eye as she picked up her shotgun from the floor.

"Show the others how to get here," Charles told her. "I'll get this place cleaned up."

She didn't have the energy to argue. She was emotionally spent and sick to her stomach. Charles deserved an apology, but she didn't think she could express herself without tripping over her own tongue right now so instead she left. As she passed the O'Driscoll bodies outside, she averted her eyes, focusing straight ahead on her horse.

Sadie stopped at a stream, to wipe the blood on her arms, from when she'd removed Charles knife from the O'Driscoll's corpse. There was nothing she could do about the splatters on her clothes.

When she returned to Shady Belle, she was exhausted and it was only mid-morning. Yet, she faced another hurdle to overcome. Apparently, in Sadie's absence, Abigail got a notion in her head that they needed to leave behind a message so they could be located by their friends.

"We don't got time for this," Sadie snarled. "We need to leave."

Abigail wouldn't let up on the subject, following Sadie as she loaded boxes onto a wagon. "How are the others gonna know where we are?"

Assisting Pearson nearby, Strauss suggested, "We have a post box in Rhodes, Mrs. Adler. We could leave a message there."

"We don't got time to post nothing now." But writing a note was a decent plan. "I'll write a letter and leave it in the house. I'll code it and use false names so the others can find it."

Abigail pondered that idea before finally relenting, "Alright. That could work."

Sadie turned to walk away when Abigail added, "But don't make it too coded. Them men are fighters, but they can be as thick as bricks sometimes."

At the end of the week, they were mostly settled in their new, if shabby, camp in Lakay. Somehow, Sadie slid into the role of leader during their move. The others consistently kept turning to her for direction more often than not.

Pearson and Susan got everyone back into their routines with the cooking and cleaning. Abigail and Charlotte took up the majority of the chores while Tilly and Mary-Beth made discreet trips into Saint Denis for small pick-pocketing jobs.

Strauss found some more poor souls to pilfer, as useful as that was. Lenny attempted to go after Strauss' debtors, but he usually only came back with pennies. He didn't have the grizzled and scarred face for intimidation. Sadie didn't blame him for it, but it sure left the group desperate.

Too soon, the cat was out of the bag about John's capture when Tilly brought back the gossip from Saint Denis. Abigail insisted they do something until Sadie had to snap at her about the reality of the situation. That they were barely surviving themselves and didn't have the resources to save him. Abigail bit her tongue and locked herself in one of the rooms. By the sniffling, Sadie suspected her of crying, but she didn't have no way of consoling her.

Worse yet, once they started trying to find work again, Mary-Beth caught wind about a cargo ship that had left port the same night Dutch and gang had fled. It had sunk with a full crew.

Once Mary-Beth shared that news, Karen took to the bottle hard and no amount of scolding could get her out of her daily drunken bouts. Sadie gave up on trying, but she noticed Charlotte and Tilly always checked up on her throughout the day.

For the rest of them, they held out on the hope that the information was incorrect or that it was not the same ship Dutch and the fellas had taken. There was a lot of denial, but Sadie held from acknowledging out loud what could very well be the truth.

As for Charles, Sadie hadn't seen him since her outburst, even though she knew he was in and out of camp frequently. He dropped off meat for Pearson every few days. His absence gave her time to recover, even if she still felt shame over her actions.

When she did finally see him face to face, the sides of his hair had been cut short, the rest braided down the middle. Sadie had wondered over it at first, but she overheard Tilly and Mary-Beth speculating it was done to honor lost friends.

Charles sought her out one evening while she was sitting alone, sharpening her knife and for once not being bothered over some camp issue or another.

"The mighty hunter himself," she greeted as if her stomach wasn't curdling with anxiety over the last time they'd spoken.

"Sadie." He nodded, his face solemn. Which didn't mean nothing since it wasn't any different than usual. "The camp in need of anything?"

"Money, food." She shrugged. "You know. What we always need."

Charles nodded again and glanced around before saying quietly, "Lenny thinks there might be a way to get to John, before they transfer him to Sisika."

"If that's the case, don't tell Abigail 'til it's done," Sadie cautioned. "But don't risk yourselves if it ain't feasible for three of us. We can always try something when the other fellas return."

He studied her. "You believe they survived?"

Sadie looked away, returning to her knife-sharpening. "It ain't so much 'belief' as it is a vain hope. Lord knows how desperate everyone would get if it were confirmed they're all dead."

Charles didn't comment as he stood beside her. She didn't know if he was looking at her, or if he was tempted to bring up what had happened between them, but she sure as shit wasn't saying nothing about it.

So, it surprised her when he said, "I have something for you."

Wordlessly, Charles handed over a scrap of paper. As soon as it was in her hand, he took off before she opened her mouth to question him over it. She watched his retreating figure, all the more confused at his reaction.

She looked down at what he'd given her. It wasn't paper; it was a portrait.

Jake. It was their wedding picture. Blackened and no longer in its original condition, but their faces remained in tact. She saw it before her eyes blurred and she lost sight of her husband.

Sadie covered her mouth, squeezed her eyes shut and held in a sob as the memory overwhelmed her. They'd had to pose dozens of times because Jake kept making her laugh that day. The photographer had grown annoyed enough that he'd finally separated them. Luckily for her, they managed long enough to get this photo taken.

Sadie carefully folded the picture and tucked it in her shirt pocket, over her heart. She wiped the tears streaking down her cheeks and took in a steady breath. Charles had done her a kindness in retrieving this photo for her, but its presence strengthened her resolve in what she wanted to spend the rest of her life doing.

Sadie wasn't afraid of death or even hell anymore. She was already living it every day without Jake on this earth.

Why did she stick around this gang? These people? Because Dutch Van der Linde and his associates had a bad habit of butting heads with Colm O'Driscoll and, eventually, that connection would serve her purpose.

That man and his gang had made her into a monster. There was no going back to the woman she'd once been. Colm would pay for the grief he'd caused her and everyone else, in his path of destruction.

Because Sadie wasn't leaving this world until she dragged every goddamn O'Driscoll down with her.