February 10, 2021
"Hey Bubba! Could you bring me the dirty clothes," yelled my mother. I sighed as I stood up, never mind that my brother was closer to the bathroom.
"Yes ma'am. I'm coming," I yelled back before grabbing the basket of clothes. I live in the deep south so I've always been taught to be polite and use "Yes ma'am, no ma'am" and things like that.
My mom pointed towards the washer as she looked at her phone. I set the hamper beside the washing machine and began tossing clothes inside.
"Hey while your in there wash that sink full," my mom called.
I turned the washer on and stepped over to the sink before dipping my hands into the steaming water. I grabbed a handful of silverware and hissed as I felt something cut my hand.
I dropped the silverware and looked at my soap sudded hand to see a line running from the bottom of my ring finger to my wrist. I grumbled and stuck my hand back into the sink and began washing dishes.
After finishing I turned to walk back to my room, my brother lay on the love seat watching a movie. While my mom sat on the couch watching some TikTok.
I shook my head, my brother had always been lazy. I mean I was too but he was the youngest and therefore he did practically no work. I like to think that I wasn't that jealous of him but I certainly had my moments.
I tripped over the rug in the hallway leading to my room. I rolled my eyes and chuckled at my clumsiness. When I was younger I was that kid who could trip while standing still, but as I got older I got less clumsier but I still had my moments.
I fixed the rug before walking back into my room. I grabbed my phone and sat down in the chair I had in my room. I unlocked my phone and it opened to show the wiki page for Arthur Morgan from Red Dead Redemption 2.
I had grown up watching almost nothing but westerns so the game had a certain appeal to me. I had loved the game from when I first heard about it and had wanted it since day one. However my family never had a Playstation 4 simply because we never had the money for one, so we were never able to get the game. Even now almost three years later we didn't have it. Somehow I managed to avoid any spoilers for it, my friends were nice and didn't spoil it for me.
I only ever watched the first chapter and a few missions in the second chapter. I practically knew every mission in the first chapter by heart and could recite line for line of it.
I read a few lines of what Arthur did in the game before stopping myself. I didn't want to spoil myself just yet. It was less than a week before I turned seventeen and I had saved up some money from odd jobs around town. That way I could buy both a PS4 and Red Dead Redemption 2, if my mom lends my thirty dollars that is. Which I doubt will happen since she doesn't give me money for anything but school related or for band.
I put my phone down and rubbed my eyes, it was getting late and I had stayed up till four in the morning yesterday. I laid in my bed and pulled the covers over me.
I sighed as I tried to get comfortable, squirming to find the right spot. I stopped when I found it and laid still. I opened my eyes and looked out the small crack I left between the bottom of the windowsill and the curtain. I could faintly see the sky as most of it was blocked by the streetlamps but what I could see was the stars were bright tonight.
I wish I lived back then, I thought before closing my eyes as my sleepiness overtook me.
May 2nd, 1899
A chill is what woke me up from my sleep, I shivered and burrowed into myself. Thinking that it might have just been the AC or something.
A gust of wind is what caused me to open my eyes. All I was able to make out from the darkness was pieces of wooden furniture.
Maybe that's my dresser?
I turned to look out my window but all I could see was white. Was that snow? I mean it was February but we didn't really get snow in Arkansas except for maybe a light dusting and that was gone by mid-morning.
My bed felt awfully harder than usual, I looked down only to see a wooden table. Panic began to spread through my body, was I kidnapped? If so the kidnappers wouldn't be able to get much ransom money. Or this could be human trafficking, maybe they plan on selling me to somebody.
A gust of wind flew through the door and flew by me, sending a chill through me. I quickly buttoned up my shirt that I went to bed with. I zipped up my pair of jeans, I didn't wear jeans that often but these were super comfy.
Unfortunately the kidnappers or human traffickers didn't bring me any shoes so my feet were freezing. I tucked them under me as best as I could to try and keep them warm.
I quit thinking about my kidnappers and focused on trying to remain warm. Hoping that they would be back soon hopefully with something to warm me up. While also trying to wrap my head around what the hell was going on.
I would guess an hour had passed and no sign of anybody other than me. At one time I could've sworn I had heard wolves and if that was the case then I was definitely in a remote area. Other than that nothing happened, my fingers and toes were a bright red with a hint of purple.
Another hour passed, no kidnappers or human traffickers. I had climbed off of the table and laid on the ground against it, facing the door. I had thought about my mom, my brother, and my grandma. I missed them, and I hoped they were alright.
"Maybe they just forgot about me? Or maybe they got caught in the snowstorm? What if...nobody comes for me? What if I die of hypothermia? Starvation," I muttered out loud, my thoughts racing. My throat was drier than usual which was a bit weird.
A neigh broke me from my spell, I looked towards the door. I could have sworn that I heard voices, my heart raced. I tried to stand up but my muscles were too stiff from the cold.
The door opened slowly, I looked up to see a familiar face holding a lantern in one hand and a revolver in the other.
Shock ran through my entire body as I recognized the man in front of me, Hosea Matthews, one of the leaders of a notorious gang known mostly as the Van Der Linde gang.
Surprise showed on his face, he turned back towards outside.
"There's somebody here," he called.
"Are they dangerous," asked a deeper but equal recognizable voice.
Hosea turned back towards me and knelt in front of me, "Doubtful considering his lips are blue."
Heavy footsteps hit the ground as the leader of the gang Dutch Van der Linde stopped in front of me.
"Hmm. Your right," he said quietly before squatting in front of me, "You move the table for Davey. I'll move him so he can have a better spot."
I couldn't really resist as it felt like my muscles were extra tight like after a hard workout. He flipped me onto his shoulder, which I knew wasn't that easy considering I was about Bill's size but slightly smaller.
He gently set me down on a chair facing the room.
I licked my lips and looked up at him, "Thank you," I said quietly.
He nodded before turning towards the door, "Okay bring'em in here! And Ms. Grimshaw bring a blanket with you if you please!"
One by one the entire gang minus John and Micah shuffled in.
My brain must still be comprehending what's going on. They look so fuckin' real! I have to be hallucinating! The kidnappers must have slipped me something!
Ms. Grimshaw handed the blanket to Dutch who turned and wrapped it around me. I shivered, my teeth clacking together, and nodded in thanks.
He nodded back and turned towards the group and finally I was able to see the main character of this game I was somehow in, Arthur Morgan.
God he was even more intimidating in person.
I looked over the group of diverse people, a few were staring at me in confusion. I noticed Jack kept stealing glances at me so I gave him a smile. It felt so much warmer in here now with just the body heat.
"Miss Gaskill, get that fire lit quick. Miss Jones, bring in whatever blankets we have. Mister Pearson, see what we have in terms of food," ordered Ms Grimshaw.
The three nodded walked back out to do as they were told.
"Not yet Miss Grimshaw," Dutch said with a shake of the head, "Not until you each warm up at least a little."
"Davey's dead," said Abigail, a crestfallen look on her face.
"There was nothing more you could have done," Reverend Swanson reassured her, as he patted her shoulder.
"What are we gonna do? We need supplies," asked Hosea, looking towards Dutch.
"Well first of all, you're gonna stay here. And you are gonna get yourself warm," Dutch ordered.
Hosea looked like he was about to argue but Dutch held up a hand to silence him, "Now, I sent John and Micah scoutin' out ahead. Arthur and I, we are gonna ride out and see if we can find one of'em."
Arthur frowned, "In this," he asked, gesturing towards the howling wind outside.
Dutch looked at the door for a second before turning back towards his right hand man, "Just for a short bit...I don't see what other choice we have."
Arthur nodded, I rubbed my hands together trying to warm them up faster.
Dutch turned towards the gang, "Listen. Listen to me, all of you for a moment. I know that we've had, well, a bad couple of days. I loved Davey...," Dutch said emotion flooding into his voice, "Jenny. Sean. Mac they may be okay, we don't know."
Several of the group looked at the ground with sadness written on their faces, others with anger.
"But we lost some folks. Now, if I could throw myself into the ground in there stead. I'd do it, gladly," Dutch said, confidence creeping into his voice.
I could see Arthur nod in agreement. It was obvious why Dutch was the leader, he had this aura around him that seemed to say that it'd be alright. As if everything would be okay no matter what.
"But...we are gonna ride out. And we are gonna find some food. Everybody, we're safe now. Ain't nobody gonna follow us through a storm like this one. And by the time they get here well we...we're gonna be long gone," Dutch spoke assuredly, trying to assure the gang that they could relax. That everything would be just fine.
I found myself nodding to his statements, this man seemed to be the living embodiment of a leader.
"We've been through worse than this before. Mister Pearson, Miss Grimshaw. I need you two to turn this place into a camp, we may be here a few days."
I saw some look down at the ground in disappointment at that.
"Now all of you...all of you. Get yourselves warm," Dutch said, emphasizing the importance of what he was saying, "Stay strong. Stay with me. We ain't done yet!"
Dutch nodded and turned before grabbing a lantern of the small table behind him, "Come on Arthur."
The two walked out, quickly shutting the door behind them.
"Alright we got some work to do," said Miss Grimshaw, as she turned towards Pearson, "Would you check to see how much food we have Mister Pearson?"
The large man nodded before walking towards the door and walking out.
"Alright. Lenny, Javier. You two go and check to see what houses there are we can stay in," ordered the matriarch of the gang.
I was too focused on the group working together that I failed to notice the four year old approach me.
"Here, you looked cold," Jack said as he tried to throw a blanket over me like Dutch but failed and it ended up over my head covering my vision.
"Huh? Where'd everybody go," I asked in mock confusion.
I heard Jack laugh softly.
"Jack! That wasn't very nice," I heard Abigail scold.
I pulled the blanket off my head and sent a reassuring smile at the mother, "It's okay. I don't mind."
Abigail nodded at me but still watched me warily. Although I couldn't blame her especially if it was a random stranger such as myself.
Several of the group shuffled out, more than likely to set up the rest of the houses for temporary living.
"Uncle and Reverend Swanson, you two move the furniture to make more room in here," ordered Grimshaw.
Uncle groaned at the idea of work but stood up and started to help the Reverend. My hands were now warm so I started to try and warm up my bare feet.
Hosea walked over to me and sat down next to me.
"So who are you," he asked, keeping an eye on both me and the room.
"I'm A-andrew Booker," I said holding a hand out.
"Hosea Matthews," he answered, shaking my hand.
"P-pleased to meetchu," I said with a shiver.
His face look fuckin' real up close...God what the hell did my kidnappers give me?
"Judging by how you talk I'm guessing your from the South somewhere," said Hosea, his voice was calm and even but also seemed to hold a certain friendliness. Although he was a conman so he could be lying.
Wait...oh God I didn't even think about having to create a back story! Okay just think of something that is believable.
"Uh yeah. I'm from Saint Denis," I answered, my tone neutral and my face casual. I had always been good at lying, which wasn't a good trait but could definitely get you out of a jam if need be.
Hosea whistled softly, "You've come a long way," he said.
I saw him glance at my naked feet, "So why are you here by yourself? No boots or horse?"
Something believable. Something that may stretch it but he couldn't question it because he wouldn't know any better.
"A friend of mine convinced me to come with him out to Rhodes. We thought it wouldn't take that long, maybe a day or two. We go there but on our way back we ran into some O'Driscoll's," I explained.
Hosea's face turned sour at the name.
"They knocked me out and my friend said that they were taking us back to their hideout when the law 'parently recognized one of them and started to chase us. They kept going until they lost them somewhere near Valentine. But apparently they heard of an abandoned mining town named Colter. So they took us here but eventually they ran out of food, so they went looking for some homestead more than likely. They came back and said that they found one, they...they killed George. Dumped his body somewhere out in the snow, they left me alone for some reason. That was at least three or four days ago now," I said, my voice wavering slightly. My eyes were watering for the full effect, I quit pinching my arm to stop.
Hosea nodded slowly and sighed tiredly, "I see. Seems like you've gone through some things."
I nodded and buried my head in my arms. If this is real, what about my mom? My brother? My grandma? All my friends and family? What would happen? Is this like an alternate universe or? Was there any way I could get home?
"Hey," said a gruff voice.
I looked up, rubbing the sleepiness out of my eyes. Apparently I had fallen asleep again.
"You okay kid," said Arthur, looking down at me.
I blinked in shock as he was talking to me but I quickly nodded, "Yeah. I'm good."
He nodded, "Why don't you come over by the fire? It's probably a lot warmer than over here by yourself."
I shook my head, "I'm fine."
I could see the older man frown slightly, "Here. Hosea told me you lost your boots to those O'Driscoll's. I hope they're the right size," he said, handing me a pair of tannish colored boots that looked like Strayhorn's, with a set of dirty spurs on them.
I grabbed them and looked up at him with a smile, "Thank you."
"Don't thank me, they might not even be the right size," he muttered.
I slipped them on and they were a little tight but not unbearable. I stood up and walked around a little, I nodded.
"They fit fine."
"Good...well goodnight," he said before walking out of the building.
I turned to see Hosea, Karen Jones, Tilly Jackson, Reverend Swanson, and Charles Smith by the fire. Reverend Swanson was passed out with a bottle of some type of alcohol in his hand. Tilly lay on the floor near the fire, along with Hosea.
"Arthur's right you know," said Karen, turning to look at me.
"'Bout," I asked.
"It's a lot warmer by the fire than by yourself in a corner."
I remained silent but walked over and sat cross legged beside the fire.
"So what's your name," asked Karen, once I was situated.
"Andrew. Andrew Booker," I answered, holding a hand up.
I could see the fire flickered brightly off of my auburn colored hair, the fire danced in my hazel colored eyes.
"Karen Jones," she answered, giving my hand two powerful pumps.
"Charles Smith," said the mixed man, in his own soft way.
"It's nice to meet both of you," I said, giving them both a genuine smile.
"Ha! You say that now," said Karen, taking a swig of a bottle I didn't see her holding.
I frowned but didn't say anything else. We fell into silence, just trying to keep warm.
I hope I can find a way home.