Arizona was a no mans land.
A lawless paradise.
And the perfect place to hide.
Countless outlaws from across the US would lose the lawmen chasing them at the border.
Too dangerous, too many outlaws, they would say, turning their horses around and riding back. Even the Pinkertons avoided the state, acting as if it was nonexistent.
Which served Micah well enough.
His failed deal with Milton and Ross still stung. As far as he knew he was still a wanted man in most of the states. It's too bad Dutch had a change of heart. He really could have used a man like him. And as much as he loathed to admit it, Arthur as well.
It proved to be a lucrative place. Micah began to make a name for himself as a formidable one man crew. Robing banks and trains that rolled through. His time with the Van Der Linde gang having shown him everything his father never did. If only the old man could see him now.
Everything was going well until he had started to hear talk of a group. They called themselves the Arizona Rangers. They had thwarted the robbery of the national bank in the capital, having captured the last remnants of the Owlhoot Family. He didn't even know that gang was still in operation.
Slowly more and more gangs were taken out over the years. The ones that hadn't been captured either left the state or joined him. They continued as normal, avoiding the law and robbing. He wasn't going to be afraid of these Arizona Rangers. He would survive them.
Just like he survived everything else.
That is until he heard the voice of someone he thought had left long ago. One he didn't think he'd hear again.
"Micah Bell, you son of a bitch! I've come for your head!"
It seemed his journey was at an end.