Almost done with this story! I tend to be slow at writing conclusions, as the chapter after this one has been taking the better part of a week and I'm only 3/4ths of the way through a first draft! Posting this chapter will give me the motivation to finish.

Chapter 28: Captive

"Arthur."

He kept walking, out the door and to the horses.

"Arthur, stop!"

His entire body had gone numb, his stomach a frozen pit spreading its chill to his hands and feet and head.

"Stop and listen to me!" A hand fell on his shoulder, warm and firm. It momentarily pulled him out of his shock long enough to realize he was next to Merlin with the reins in his hand.

"He's got Al," was all Arthur could say.

"I know." Hosea squeezed his shoulder. "But you can't just charge into Six Point Cabin guns blazing to get him back. We need a plan."

"How is a plan going to help? We don't know how many men he's got or how long he's going to wait!"

"And I seem to recall him wanting both of us in exchange for Albert. And Micah doesn't know how many fighters we've got, either. Just come back inside so we can talk about this."

Reluctantly, Arthur dropped the reins and let Hosea lead him back inside, arm draped around him. Everyone stared as he entered, even Dutch. Sadie shoved a mug of coffee into Arthur's hands, and John stared at him with a look of pity. They probably heard the fight that morning. He should have gone with Al, protected him. Then maybe they would be on their way back from a nice afternoon of photography, better yet Micah would be dead after daring to pick a fight with Arthur. Or the other way around, but Albert would be safe.

"Alright, how many men does Micah have?" Hosea asked Dutch.

"At least those two boys, Joe and Cleet," Dutch said. "But he's working with Pinkertons. A deal for immunity if he turned in me, you, and Arthur."

"How do you-"

"Milton showed up at Beaver Hollow. Almost cornered us, but we managed to escape. I killed Milton. I don't believe any Pinkertons would be with Mr. Bell. It seemed that finding you and Arthur was his job alone."

Hosea perked up at that. "With Milton dead, the Pinkertons are probably in chaos. Micah's deal is probably off."

"And he doesn't know it yet," Dutch continued. "We can use that."

"How?" Arthur said. "What's to stop him from just killing Al and running?"

"We draw him out first," Hosea said. "Pretend to give ourselves up."

"There's a lot of cover around that cabin," John added. "Remember? We were able to sneak up and take out those O'Driscoll guards with no problem."

"They were also drunk," Arthur reminded him.

"But we can bring more guns. I can hide in the bushes and provide cover. Get a good look at the place before you and Hosea step out."

"John…" Abigail began, but the others interrupted her.

"I'll go," Sadie said.

"Me, too. I want to see that bastard dead," said Lenny.

"As do I," Dutch said. "And I know, the goal is to get your man back, but as soon as you do… that traitor doesn't deserve to live another day."

"What about Abigail and Jack? And Charles? Someone needs to stay with them."

Rains Fall stepped forward. "They may return with us to our home for the time. Charles has been kind and helpful to us. We would be glad to return the favor."

Arthur was shocked when Eagle Flies spoke up, his voice angry and full of fire. "I would like to join you," he said,

Rains Fall shook his head and said, "No."

"Father, this man attacked a friend near our home. Do you honestly expect me to not fight?"

"You should protect your people," Arthur insisted. "This isn't your battle."

"No, I want to help."

As they walked out the cabin and to the horses, with Abigail taking Jack on Old Belle, Arthur turned to Eagle Flies and said, "Thank you."

"No need." He paused, looking at Rains Fall, then said, "I do not agree with my father that the project with that writer and your photographer friend will do us much good, but he agreed to help and wouldn't accept money. This is how I can repay him."

They took off at a gallop, down to Bacchus Station where they separated from Rains Fall, Charles, Abigail, and Jack. The others turned southwest into Cumberland Forest. It was getting dark fast, the sun setting past the trees casting long shadows in front of them. "I think we should go in the same way Kieran showed us. Approach from the back," said John when they halted at a crossroads.

"Perhaps Arthur and I should go around to the other side. Could draw their attention while the rest of you sneak up," Hosea replied.

"That could work," John said, but Arthur was uncertain.

"Maybe just me."

"Arthur, Micah wants both of us, remember?"

"I know, but…" he trailed off, knowing that Hosea was right while still hoping to protect the man he nearly lost weeks ago.

Hosea reached over from Silver Dollar to put a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be fine. He will want to take us alive for a higher bounty. No reason to shoot either of us if it looks like we are surrendering."

Arthur hoped so. Micah was a loose cannon, though. He remembered Strawberry all too well.

Then Dutch spoke, and unlike his usual speeches with their grand flare, this was merely a quiet suggestion. "What if I go up to the cabin?" he said. "Perhaps Micah will leave your friend alone."

"And if he doesn't?" Arthur asked. "I'm not risking Al for your revenge, Dutch."

"We should make camp, wait for dawn. We won't be able to see what we're shooting at in an hour," he continued, ignoring Arthur's protests.

"I ain't waiting that long!"

"Please, son," Hosea said. "We may only have one shot at this and we have to do it right. For Albert."

In his head, Arthur screamed and cursed and fought against waiting another second to go get Al back. But Hosea was right, they all were right. Going in blind, in the dark, when Micah would surely be holed up in the cabin with the advantage was suicide.

He barely touched the can of food John shoved into his hands, listlessly staring into the fire. Lenny was the same, until Hosea forced the two to lay down down in their bedrolls. Sleep didn't come to him, not that he expected it to. Still, the cracking of wood in the fire and the insects chirping in the forest formed a lullaby, and he found himself drifting in the moments when his exhaustion overpowered the anxiety in his chest.

"I never saw your letter." The whisper reached his ear from over by the fire. "Micah arrived at Lakay first and kept it from me."

"Do you want to know what it said?" Hosea asked.

"I know a little."

For a moment, only the fire and the insects filled his ears. Then, "I wish we could have built that ranch, all of us together, safe. With Mac and Davey, Jenny, Sean. I know something spooked you about that land we looked at in Montana, but I wish we would have taken the risk and done it. Because Blackwater was much worse. And everywhere we went after that, every time we talked about lying low you went and caused a whole lot of noise again. And that dream just slipped further and further away. I started talking with some folk, like Lenny and John, telling them maybe it was time to move on. And then after Arthur left and got hurt… oh Dutch, if you had seen him… I know I kept him from you, but I was afraid you would try to drag him back and I couldn't let that happen. And after the bank? John was hurt, dammit I was hurt! And you were just gone."

"They were searching the city for us, Hosea," Dutch said. "I didn't have another choice but to get on that boat."

"We can't change what's past. We're old men, Dutch, but I knew I could give our boys, and everyone else, a chance at a future."

"And what future is that, exactly? One where they follow the whims of those lawmen and degenerates like Cornwall? One where they are chained to the monsters of so-called civilization?"

"One where they get to live," Hosea said with a sense of finality. "Tomorrow, I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

"I know you are only here for Micah, but please… for our son, don't do anything that could jeopardize Albert's safety."

"I don't intend-"

"I know you don't, but I know you. Sometimes you only see your own goals and not the consequences. Arthur and Albert, they have something special. Promise me."

"… I promise."

Arthur closed his eyes once more, trying to find a moment of rest while ignoring the stinging tears building in his eyes.

The stage was set. Arthur, John, and Lenny lay flat against the ground on the hill to the right of the cabin, relying on the thick bushes to hide them from view. Arthur carefully aimed his rifle between two trees, the scope giving him a perfect view of the front door. "I see one guard," he said, keeping his voice low, the man's appearance vaguely reminiscent of one of Micah's friends. He looked over the rifle and focused on the area he knew Hosea, Sadie, and Eagle Flies were planning to go, both parties ready to converge on Dutch should the plan go amiss. And didn't the plan always those days.

"MICAH BELL! COME OUT!" Dutch shouted at the cabin, his voice cracking under the strain of his high volume.

"Oh shit," Micah's friend said, the exclamation barely reaching Arthur's ears. "Boss, we got trouble."

Joe or Cleet or whoever it was raised their rifle, but Dutch was faster. He drew his gun and fired in a single instant, downing the guard. "What the fuck?" Arthur said, about to rush down, but John threw his arm out.

"Wait," John said. "He wants to draw Micah out."

"COME OUT HERE, NOW!" Dutch shouted at the cabin. The door swung open, but it wasn't Micah who exited first. The first man staggered, walking in slow, stunted steps, and seconds later Arthur realized why. Micah was pushing Albert forward, gun to his head with his wrists tied together, and John had to physically restrain Arthur from rushing down to him.

"Arthur, stop! Stay down!"

"I knew this wasn't going to work. We never should have listened to Dutch!"

Lenny took up the rifle because John was practically laying on Arthur, and yet Arthur still tried to drag himself forward.

"Dutch," Micah began. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Dutch stood still, gun pointed at Micah, but Micah said, "Ah, ah, ah… you wouldn't want to hurt Morgan's friend, would you?"

"Let the man go. This is between you and me."

"No, can't do that." Micah tightened his grip on the back of Albert's neck, and Arthur struggled more against John.

"You thought you could betray me? Turn me over to the law?"

"You survived, didn't you?" Micah said. "Besides, I thought I wasn't part of your gang no more, just for killing that old woman."

Micah began to shift, turning his body to more easily disappear into the woods, and Arthur got a glimpse of Albert's face. His eyes were wide, darting all around him. Arthur wished Al's eyes could find him, just to know that he was there, waiting, ready to put himself in harm's way to get him away from Micah.

If only John would let him up.

"The way I see it, Mr. Mason here is my bargaining chip. I was going to use him to draw Morgan out, but he'll do for now. Because you could never do anything to hurt Morgan, could you? Even after he walked out, that's all you talked about in Saint Denis. Arthur this, Arthur that… made me want to track him down and kill him just to get you to shut up!"

"I shot your pal Milton," said Dutch. "You won't get paid."

"Oh, I'll get paid. Plenty of sheriffs and Pinkertons still around."

"Not if you are arrested, too. And you will be."

"No, I like my chances," Micah said, then turned his gun on Dutch, firing quickly. Dutch leapt back and around a tree, sending off a few wild shots that missed. Purposefully, Arthur wondered. Dutch was a way better shot than Micah. He was keeping his promise.

John rolled off him, and Arthur charged down the hill after Micah. Shouts came from the other side of the cabin, with everyone attempting to converge on Micah. A second man appeared out of the cabin but was downed quickly with an arrow in his chest. But the trees that served as their cover were now their disadvantage, as Micah began pulling Albert back through the woods to his stolen horse. They couldn't shoot without risking Albert, but Micah kept up a steady stream of firing so that they had to duck and hide more often than not.

"Dammit, he's getting away!" Arthur shouted, then he whistled for Merlin. As the woods quieted around them, the loyal horse galloped up to him. "Let's go boy," he muttered as he mounted and began chasing Micah, ignoring the shouts of protest from the others.

Easily he followed the hoof prints of Micah's horse, freshly dug into the soft dirt of the trail. Micah's maniacal laughter echoed in the trees, high off his supposed escape.

"Micah!" he shouted, and a curse answered. "Stop! It's over, you fool!"

Arthur rounded another corner, and the horse ran past him in the opposite direction without its rider and captive. He glanced around the area, wondering what Micah's plan was, but then he spotted a slightly concealed trail, not wide enough to ride a horse down, leading towards the river. That had to be it!

"Micah!" he shouted again, jumping off Merlin. He could hear Micah struggling through the bushes, still pulling Albert along. He continued on after him, knowing he would catch him soon, then stumbled out onto a plateau high above the raging rapids of the Dakota River. There was Micah, still pointing a gun at Albert's head, but looking at the broken remains of a bridge that would have been his escape.

"Oh, hey there, cowpoke," Micah said. "Knew you'd come for your man here. Didn't think you'd team up with Dutch to do it."

"Arthur?" Albert said, tensing even more in Micah's hold.

"It'll be okay, Al." Arthur addressed Micah next. "You're backed into a corner. Let him go."

"Why? Can't shoot me now, can you? Even if you do manage to shoot first, me and your boyfriend are just going to fall down right into the river."

"Fine. You want to walk out of here? So do I. Let Al go, and I won't shoot." He hated making that promise, still desiring revenge for Susan. But he needed to shove that down for Al. He should have done so yesterday in the first place. Besides, there was only one way out, and he hoped the others had found their way to it.

"And why should I believe you?" Micah sneered.

Arthur flipped open his holster and gingerly withdrew his revolver with two fingers loose around the handle, eyes on Micah the entire time. He tossed it several feet behind him even as Albert shook his head minutely. He knew the dangerous position it put him in, but with Al's life at stake, he would risk it. He wasn't leaving himself completely unarmed, he still had his second revolver in the offhand holster. But drawing that before Micah fired would be nearly impossible.

If Micah decided to shoot him, maybe he would still let Albert go.

Micah's eyes widened and he shifted his stance. Arthur could barely breathe. Behind him, he heard someone, possibly John, shout his name. Time was almost up.

"Sorry, cowpoke, money's too good." Micah shoved Albert back as he raised his revolver to Arthur. Albert's eyes widened, his mouth dropped open in a shout as he plummeted off the cliff edge.

"NO!" Arthur shouted, starting forward even as Micah's finger pulled the trigger and-

Click.

Arthur didn't stop to question whether it was a misfire or if Micah had simply lost count of his bullets. The traitor stared at his gun in shock. Arthur didn't consider grabbing his own revolver and killing Micah. Albert had fallen to the river, his hands still bound. Even as the John and Hosea burst through the bushes with a shout and Micah looked up, Arthur ran past to the edge, barely giving himself a second to consider the height.

And then he jumped.