This early chapter is brought to you by the typhoon that gave me a day off from work without knocking out my power.

Chapter 16: The Strange Man's Warning

The man had a dark mustache and wore a black suit and a top hat. At first glance, Arthur could have sworn he was Trelawny, but the voice and accent were all wrong. Arthur drew his revolver and pointed it at the man, but the stranger only chuckled.

"Who are you? How do you know me?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, I know many people. But you? Clearly, I didn't know you as well as I thought."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The man pointed to a chair next to the painting of a buck. "Please, sit."

"No."

The man didn't sit either. He just stood watching Arthur, his hands clasped behind his back, completely undisturbed by the gun pointed at his head. It was almost like he was waiting for something.

Arthur's voice was close to a snarl when he said, "What is all this? Those paintings, the writings? How do you know about Jimmy Brooks?" And more importantly, though he didn't say it out loud, how did the man know about the buck? He never told anyone, not even Hosea, about the dreams he had after he drank from that cauldron. He never felt the need to tell Albert, seeing as Albert didn't even know he was in a gang at the time and his new way of thinking was what lead him to leave it.

"The same way I know about you. The same way I know about many people. Though your path, your fate, it isn't as clear to me like it is for others."

"Explain. Now!"

"Be patient, Mr. Morgan. You see, you were teetering on the edge of two paths for such a long time. Your fate could have gone either way, so I thought you needed a… push towards your true self, whether that my be. I know you saw a buck, but what was the other? A coyote?"

"You mean that weird drink in the mountains. You left that?"

"And you drank it. You didn't choose your path as I expected, and it seems that having you choose early has created a new string of events I didn't foresee."

Through clenched teeth, Arthur said, "Sorry to disappoint."

"Oh, it wasn't a disappointment. Just a curiosity. It seems I still have much to learn about life. When I placed that cauldron for you to find, I expected your fate, your end, to be the same either way. Small changes would have occurred, yes, but when you left Dutch van der Linde, I knew there was something special about you. Though I do apologize for what happened between you and the Pinkerton agents."

"You did that to me?" Arthur was tempted to shoot the stranger right that second, but he wanted answers.

"An unfortunate consequence. I do hope the opportunities you have gained make up for it."

Arthur couldn't make any real sense of that meant, so he asked, "What do you want with me?"

"Nothing," the strange man said, walking to the door. "Nothing at all. But perhaps there is something that I can do for you, to make up for it. Fate and destiny… these are funny concepts. Like with your old gang. Some of their fates are set in stone, and others could still sway in the breeze." He opened the door, letting some of the waning sunlight into the room. "If you go to the covered bridge to the north, right now, you have a chance to keep some in motion."

"And why should I do that? Or believe anything you say?"

"You don't have to. It's up to you. I don't mind either way. But if you don't, know that the end has already begun."

The door closed behind him, and after a moment of indecisiveness, Arthur pulled the door open after him. "Wait!" he called out, but no one was there. But Merlin, calm as could be, was hitched the to porch railing.

Dare he go to the bridge? Arthur worried that it was a trap, even though the man had seemingly apologized for his capture by the Pinkertons. But his curiosity won out. He had to see for himself! Arthur ran to Merlin and jumped on his back, turning towards the road. The horse no longer seemed spooked by the gators and followed his directions well. They stopped at the end of the covered bridge, Arthur wondering what was about to happen.

Then, he heard horses galloping his way, their hooves loud as they hit the wooden bridge. Underneath it, he heard a child crying, "Let me go, I want my mama!" Arthur thought the voice sounded familiar.

One of the riders shouted out, "Shut it, kid!" But Arthur was already moving forward, selecting a rifle from his gear and shifting his voice to a growl.

"Hey! Let the kid go!"

"Shit, it's one of them Yankees!" the rider said, going for his gun, but Arthur was already firing a bullet into his and his friend's skulls.

The small boy clung to the saddle horn as the Tennessee Walker reared up and took off down the road. Arthur spurred Merlin after and quickly lassoed it.

"Easy, easy boy, it's okay," he said, hopping off Merlin and trying to sooth the frightened horse, but more importantly, trying to get to the boy still on it's back. "Hey kid, you alright?" he asked, getting a better look at the mop of dark hair and tear-stained cheeks.

"Uncle Arthur?"

"Jack?" He didn't want to believe it at first, but it was him! Arthur pulled John's son into his arms, and immediately Jack buried his head into Arthur's shirt and sobbed. Arthur rubbed his back slowly, thoughts swirling around but saying, "You're alright, Jack. You're safe now, you hear me?"

That strange man knew! He knew, but he kept his knowledge hidden in clues and suggestions. What would have happened if Arthur hadn't gone? And what had happened to the gang? How could Jack have been kidnapped? There was always someone watching! He needed to get back to his family, protect them, save them.

But Arthur didn't know where they were. All he knew was that they were near Rhodes. The sun had almost sunk below the horizon, and Arthur had heard too many rumors about Night Folk to want to remain in the swamps. And even if he found the gang, their camp might not be safe for them to return to if someone had managed to be take Jack earlier in the day.

"Hey, kiddo, how about you spend the night with me? I don't think you've ever seen a city before."

"I want Mama and Pa!" Jack continued to sob into Arthur's shirt.

"I know, I know. But it's getting real dark out. And you know your mama is pretty strict about bedtime." Jack looked up at Arthur, still uncertain, so he decided to really sell it. "I'm staying at my friend Albert's apartment. He has a really big bed, and I bet he will show you all the photographs he's taken."

"Like the ones in your tent?"

"Yeah, he takes photographs of animals. Albert's real nice. I bet you'll like him."

The tears seemed to be drying up. Oh, the resilience of children, Arthur thought. All he needed was something intriguing and new to draw Jack's attention. When Jack nodded, Arthur lifted him up and put him in Merlin's saddle before mounting up behind him. But there was still a long way to go before Jack would be back to his normal, cheerful self, so Arthur kept talking.

"Hey, Jack! You like chocolate, don't you?"

"Sure!"

"Well, then, I'll have to take you to the shop down the street from Albert's in the morning. They make their own chocolate! And sometimes, if the wind is just right when they are making it, the whole street smells like chocolate, too."

"Really?"

"Really. And the candy? Well, there's more flavors of candy than I knew."

"Like what?"

"Well, there's orange, lemon, peppermint, vanilla… all sorts. You'll see."

Jack's eyes widened at the thought, but soon he cast them back down. He gripped Arthur shirt sleeve with his small fingers, Arthur's arm wrapped around him to hold him steady on Merlin. "Is that why you left, Uncle Arthur?"

"What? Oh, no kiddo, no. That's not why."

"But Uncle Dutch said… he said you didn't like us no more."

"Uncle Dutch doesn't know what he's talking about, Jack. Of course I like all of you. I've missed you all so much! Except for Micah." That got a giggle out of Jack.

"Then why?" he asked.

"Well, Dutch… he likes to be the ideas man. He doesn't like it when people think different than him. And lately, I've been thinking a lot different than Dutch. We got into a pretty big fight, he and I both got mad and I left."

"Mama says that when you get mad at someone you should say you are sorry."

"Maybe I'm waiting for Uncle Dutch to say sorry to me!"

"I'll tell him to!"

Arthur laughed, shifting his arm to pat Jack on the shoulder. "If old Dutch listens to you, you let me know!"

"And then you'll come back?"

"Maybe, kid. It ain't that simple. I miss the gang, but I don't know if I want to be an outlaw like your Pa, anymore. But you know what? I'll talk to your Mama, and I bet she will let you visit me. How about that?

Jack was silent, just looking down at Merlin's mane. They were almost out of the swamps and on the main road to the city. "Hey, how's the new camp? I never got to see it." Perhaps Jack could at least narrow down the location and make it easier to find. Arthur planned to spend the morning distracting Jack with the stores and sweets of Saint Denis, and head to Rhodes in the afternoon. If they had to, they could spend the night at the Parlor House. Arthur had seen a map of the region, and because of the plantations taking up a large portion of the land, there were only so many places the gang could have set up camp.

"We are right next to a lake," Jack said. "There was this big boat washed up on the beach, it was so neat! Pa took me to explore it."

"Really? Your Pa did that?"

"Yeah. He takes me fishing sometimes too."

Had his talk with John back in Valentine worked? Arthur really hoped so. Not only did he want Jack to grow up with an involved father, he still held a hope that John would take Abigail and Jack away from the gang and build an honest life for them. It was exactly what he wished he had done for Eliza and Isaac when they were alive. He had been so young and stupid back then, too blind to understand that his son came above his loyalty to Dutch.

John at least was taking the first step on a rather long road, and Arthur looked forward to getting to talk to his brother again when he brought Jack back to the camp.

They were getting close to the apartment now, and Jack's face was filled with wonder at the lanterns glowing in the fog. Arthur kept his head on a swivel for nighttime robbers, but only spotted a pair of men sitting on their horses, dressed fancy yet armed to the teeth. Arthur tensed more when one of the men eyed Jack and called out, "You Braithwaite?"

"No, sir," Arthur replied, hand drifting to his holster, but the other man only sighed and continued to peer out into the darkness over the bridge. Arthur recognized the last name from his letters with Hosea, but didn't think anything else of it. They seemed to be in the clear all the way to the apartment above the florist. Hitching Merlin next to Lucy outside, Arthur took one last look down the street and led Jack inside.

The second he opened the door, he heard Albert say, "Oh, you're back! Finally! I was beginning to worry. Did you find those orchids?" But Albert froze the second he rounded the corner and saw Jack clutching Arthur's leg.

"I found a few. But then… well… Albert, this is Jack. He's John and Abigail's son. Jack, this is my friend, Albert."

"Hi," Jack said, feeling a little shy after the day's events.

"Uh… hello," replied Albert, still standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Did you save us any food?" Arthur asked. "You hungry, Jack? Don't tell Pearson I said this, but the food here is way better than his." The boy let out a small laugh, and Arthur gave him a light push towards the kitchen table. "I'll explain in a bit," he whispered to Albert as he passed.

Al shook himself out of his stupor. "Yes, there's some food. It is a little spicy, though."

Arthur spooned some of the chicken and vegetables over the rice and tasted a little. It was a tad spicy. But Jack seemed to like it well enough, wolfing it down so fast that Arthur had barely made a plate of his own before he was almost done. "Slow down, kiddo. It ain't going nowhere!"

Still Albert stared at Jack, not moving to sit with them. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, and finally Albert slowly stepped to the table. "So, you're Jack, huh?" asked he.

"Yep!" Jack said between mouthfuls.

"Jack, remember don't talk with your mouth full! What would Miss Grimshaw say if she saw you now?" said Arthur.

"Mama don't listen to Miss Grimshaw no more."

"That so?"

Jack shrugged and kept eating, and Arthur figured it was best to just leave him be. The boy had been through enough that day. As he was finishing, Jack turned his attention to Albert.

"Uncle Arthur says you take pictures of animals!"

"I do. Arthur helps me quite a bit."

"Can I see?"

Albert glanced back to the mess in the living room, where prints of varying sizes, some framed and some not, lay strewn around the room. Arthur decided to step in. "I have some in my satchel, Jack. But clean up your hands, first." He pulled out his journal and slid the prints out. He had the one of the wolves and the two wild horse prints.

"Is that your horse?" Jack asked, looking at the herd galloping across the field.

"Yeah, that's Merlin. Right before I caught him too. And this is right after I caught him." He showed Jack the picture of Merlin trying to buck him off, and the boy gasped. He gave a similar reaction to the print of the wolves.

"That looks scary!"

"I suppose, a little. But we were alright. I kept us safe."

Jack started to go quiet, and Arthur noticed his eyelids starting to droop. "Hey, kid. Maybe we should get you to bed. Al, is it alright if he and I stay in the bedroom? It might be easier and I don't want him to wake up alone." Arthur and Albert started sharing the one bed in the apartment shortly after Arthur's injuries healed up. At first, they argued over who would get the bed, with both parties believing the other deserved it more, until Arthur simply suggested they share, and that they didn't have to do anything more. Until they were both ready, that is.

"Oh, yes. Of course! I can sleep on the sofa. No problem at all."

"You sure?"

"Yes, yes."

"Okay." In more of a whisper, Arthur said, "We can talk after I get him to bed."

Gathering Jack into his arms, Arthur walked carefully to the bedroom and tucked him into the sheets. "There you go, is that comfy?"

"Yeah," Jack said, but he was quiet and unenthusiastic compared to early.

"Hey Jack, you doing okay?"

"Do you think Mama misses me?"

Arthur sighed. He wanted nothing more than to pick Jack up and ride straight to Abigail, who was no doubt worried out of her mind by now. "Of course she misses you, and I know you are missing her. But everything will be just fine. Think of it like… a vacation."

"Vacation?"

"Yeah, it's where you leave home for a bit to see new stuff. They are fun, or so I've been told."

"Really?"

"Really, I swear. You try new food and see new places. And then you will have all these stories to tell your Mama and your Pa. Then maybe they will come visit out here, too. Now, how about you go to sleep?"

"Can you read me a story?"

"Oh, uh… I don't have any storybooks here at the moment. How about I tell you about how I met Albert?"

Jack nodded and settled back into the pillows. "Well, it was a sunny afternoon and I was out for a ride…"

Jack fell asleep soon after Arthur started talking, a smile on his face. Surely, Jack would ask for the ending the next morning, because the boy would need to know about how his Uncle Arthur battled that thieving coyote to get the bag back for his damsel in distress.

Arthur slipped out of the bedroom after he was certain Jack was sleeping and slumped in a chair. Albert sat at the kitchen table as well, hunched over a mug of tea. "How is Jack?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"He's sleeping. Poor kid. I don't really how to explain what happened. I think I need a drink."

"Well, we have whiskey and rum. And take your time, I'm listening."

"Well, really, the whole story probably starts a few weeks after we first met." Arthur decided not to skip over any details, knowing it would likely lead to more questions than answers. He talked about stumbling on the cauldron and drinking the mysterious liquid inside, fully accepting the eye roll and light mocking at his idiocy that followed. He told Albert about how he thought nothing of it after just getting a little sick, but that he did feel differently about the gang and Dutch afterward. But then he explained the cabin and the strange man inside who seemingly claimed to have placed the drink for him, who then clued him in that something would happen at the covered bridge.

"And then two men rode up, they had Jack," Arthur said before draining his glass of whiskey.

"And you didn't see the man again? He was just gone?"

"Yeah. Vanished into thin air. Appeared that way, too. Suit was all clean and pressed. There's no way he could have walked through the swamp like that."

"Do you… are we safe here?"

"I think so."

"What if that man comes back and wants something?"

"If he does, then we'll deal with it. But tomorrow, I'm going to show Jack a few fun places and then get him back to his parents."

Albert nodded, and they turned both heard the sound of the bedroom door opening. "Uncle Arthur?" Jack asked, a blanket trailing behind him.

"I'm coming in Jack, just give me a second." He turned back to Albert, who was gathering up the dishes.

"Sleep well, Arthur. We'll figure everything out in the morning.

"Goodnight Al," said Arthur, and he went to get Jack back in bed.