Familiar Faces

"What business is it of yours?" I growled as a sickly man attempted to intervene in the middle of a street brawl. I had just about pummeled Tommy's face to the point where it was unrecognizable, and I would've gone further had the stranger not butted in.

"No business," the stranger said. He put his hands up in surrender before he continued, "No business, sir. But please… I beg you." His fearful eyes looked as if they were scanning my face for any sign of humanity. I'd be surprised if he'd found anything, to be honest. The thick layer of mud and the fast forming bruises on my face made me feel like a wild animal. I looked around to the crowd that encircled us, all I received were dirty looks and snide remarks. I let out a grunt as I grabbed my dirty hat before picking myself up and out of the mud, pushing aside the scrawny stranger as he made his way towards the whimpering lump behind me. Shoving my way through the crowd that once surrounded us, I stumbled my way over to the general store. After all that had transpired, I definitely felt like a rest was high on my list of priorities.

"Making new friends again I see, Arthur." An eerily familiar voice called out to me. I looked up from the porch and saw my gang leader, Dutch, walking towards me with a new face I hadn't seen in such a long time.

"Look who we found sniffing about." Dutch said as he gestured towards a well dressed man in a black bowler's hat. The man bowed before me as he was being introduced.

"Josiah Trelawny." I remarked, giving the man a nod as I spoke.

"The very same," replied Dutch.

"Well," I chuckled with a grin, "well… I thought you'd gone to New York."

"And miss all this glamour?" he laughed as he rolled his eyes at me. "You must be joking."

"How are you?" I asked the mustachioed gentleman as I made to sit down on the steps leading up to the store.

"Well." He enthused. "Quite well indeed." Trelawny gave Dutch a concerned look before continuing. "I went to Blackwater looking for you gentlemen. You're not very popular there, it seems." Just then Javier, Charles, and Bill came strolling towards the three of us laughing amongst each other, freshly opened beer bottles in their hands. "Ah!" Josiah exclaimed, "Javier and Charles. I've missed you…" he said with a smile, "...and Bill, looking well as can be! Gentlemen, always a pleasure."

Dutch lowered his voice before addressing Josiah's comment, "You're right, we ain't too popular in Blackwater."

"We left a lot of money there." I interjected.

"And young Sean, it seems." chimed Trelawny.

"Sean?" Dutch asked cautiously. "You've found him?"

"Yes, I have." Trelawny added. "He's being held by some bounty hunters… trying to see how much money the government will pay them. I know he's in Blackwater… but there's talk of them moving."

My eyes went wide at the news that the boy was alive. I didn't think anybody else made it except the group back at camp. "Well, if we step foot in Blackwater…" I started to say before a wave of pain shot through my skull. I groaned painfully before collecting myself, taking a moment to spit before standing up, "...well, then we're dead men for sure."

Dutch crossed his arms before responding, "There'll be Pinkertons all over the place, but…" he trailed off, looking me in the eye before continuing, "... if he's alive we gotta try." Everybody gave a nod in agreement, Sean needed saving and we were the idiots who were going to help him.

"It's you they want, Dutch." Trelawny warned.

"Always is." He grunted in reply. "Charles, go find out what you can, carefully." Dutch instructed, "Josiah, take Javier with you." The three men had departed once given their parts in the plan. "Arthur," Dutch said as he looked me up and down, "Go get yourself cleaned up. Join the rest when you're ready." I nodded before making my way over to a barrel full of water near the general store and dunking my head into it to clear away the dried muck that was caked onto my skin.

"1899?!" I could hear a woman nearby shriek, she sounded utterly terrified. I turned my head towards the commotion and noticed a strangely dressed lady gripping a soaking wet newspaper in her hands. Wiping my hands on the front of my jeans, I made my way over to her, noticing all of the stares and whispers coming from the townsfolk bustling around the shocked woman.

"Miss?" I grunted, trying to get her attention away from the obviously distressing paper in her hands. She turned her head to look at me and before she could respond I watched her eyes roll back into her head as her body slumped forward. My hands instantly caught her by the shoulders, breaking her fall and keeping her upright. "Well… hell," I said under my breath.

I gently lowered her down to the porch and leaned her limp frame against the outside wall of the saloon before kneeling beside her, watching curiously over the strange woman. Suddenly, her eyes fluttered to life. They blinked wildly as her hazel-green orbs quickly scanned her surroundings. Finally landing onto mine, she froze.

"You…," She said slowly, her voice low and laced with caution as she stared pointedly at my face, beyond perplexed.

"Me?" I asked aloud, shocking her as I spoke, as if she didn't expect me to move. Her face contorted from a look of confusion to one of pure anxiety. It was as if I could plainly see the gears turning in her head as she attempted to piece her thoughts together.

"I t-think…," she stammered. "I-I think I know you." Never once since she had come-to had her eyes left mine. She knows me? I thought to myself, utterly puzzled by her statement.

I have never seen this woman before today, and that was plainly obvious to me. Her outfit was beyond outlandish, the pants and shirt she wore clung tightly to her body while a large woven jacket hung loosely from her bent elbows. Her hair, left loose, had fallen over her shoulders in light brown waves. It caught the sunlight peeking through the clouds, sending honey gold streaks throughout.

"Uh…miss," I started, unsure how to respond to the anxious woman before me declaring her knowledge of my existence. It scared me. Did she know about Blackwater?

"I think you might be mistaken," I said. If she knew me from Blackwater, this could be bad. Real fuckin' bad. Not just for me, but for the gang.

"No, I've seen you before," she said adamantly, her hazel green eyes lowering to her hands. "This is going to sound crazy… but I've seen you in a dream or something. It felt so real, like we've met previously."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I didn't know what to say to her. She met me in her dreams? That's better than Blackwater, I guess. Before I could respond, she interrupted my thoughts.

"Who are you?" she asked me, her eyes locked back into my blue ones. I didn't feel compelled to lie to her, so I gave her my name.

"Arthur," I said plainly. "Arthur Morgan." It was then that her features softened, no longer filled with fear. I don't know how my name accomplished that, but it was a much better sight than before. "How 'bout you, little lady? You gonna give me yours?"

"Hayleigh." she spoke confidently, a small smile spreading along her lips. "Hayleigh Edwards."

God damnit, what have I gotten myself into.