ARTHUR'S POV
He was three shots of whiskey and one beer into this excursion and he felt as if there was no end in sight. They promised Dutch they wouldn't make too much noise, but they never promised to be sober. It was very reminiscent of days gone by, back when they weren't running. When they had it all and then some. He missed those days, even if he was in a bad place back then. The gang was a whole instead of many halves, as they were now. He watched as Bill tried telling a joke, though with how drunk he was, he was a slurred mess. He watched Javier making the working gals swoon over his charming qualities and foreign accent.
He thought about buying an hour, but was content alone with his whiskey. Charles walked up beside him and leaned against the bar, bottle of beer in hand. They haven't really had a moment to rest, so naturally they haven't spoken in a while. Yeah they spoke of matters with the camp, but never man to man, friend to friend.
"How ya doin' Charles?"
Charles chuckled. "I'm fine, just...enjoying this while it lasts."
Arthur nodded. "I've been doin' that all my life."
Charles lowered his head, as his thumb tapped the neck of the bottle. "How are you and Ethan doing?"
Now that was a loaded question, he thought. It wasn't that he and Ethan weren't getting along, they just had very different mindsets. He was always a good kid, but Arthur was always a bad man - no matter how you sliced it.
"I'm not sure how to answer that," He shrugged. "We're two different people...sometimes we get along and sometimes we don't."
"I understand."
Arthur chuckled. "Really? Can you make me understand then?"
Charles smiled. "You're doing a good job, Arthur. He's a good man because of you."
"That sir, is an oxymoron."
"Whatever you say, Arthur." He pressed the bottle against his lips and tilted his head back.
"How've you been?"
Charles shrugged. "I'm holding on. Listen, I've been thinking about some things." He paused, turning to Arthur. "I think we need to sit down and talk about everything that's happened."
Arthur shook his head. "I'dunno. Tempers seem to flair the minute we talk about Dutch and all his mistakes."
"No one would be pointing any fingers. I just think we need to know where we're going next."
"Oh you mean a plan?" He scoffed. "Dutch has a lot of those."
"Well that's what I mean, I think-"
"HEY WATCH WHERE YER GOING!"
"Hey take it easy, Pal!"
Arthur and Charles turned around, just as Bill headbutted a man. They ran over just as a chair was suddenly tossed unceremoniously across the room, commencing the trouble that Dutch warned them about.
Bill was fending off a few hordes of angry drunks, a fist to the jaw, a fist to the stomach, a headbutt, a kick to the groin. And as Arthur approached the drunken fool, he was suddenly accosted by an angry feller, looking for nothing but trouble. And it just so happens that he enjoyed trouble, especially when he won.
"Just shoot these bastards!" Bill called across the room.
Charles huffed. "Oh c'mon we can handle these fools!"
Arthur ducked, evading a fist to the jaw, when he drove his own fist in the man's stomach. He doubled over in pain and Arthur took advantage of this. Pushing him toward the doors. He started to fight again, though slower to react. Arthur grew frustrated and shoved him into the wall, then wrapped his hands around his neck.
The man was able to gain enough strength to push him off, though Arthur resounded with another firm uppercut, which sent him to the ground. He stood over the unconscious man, shaking out his hand. He turned and walked over to Bill who was being pummeled by a few drunks.
He walked up to the closest one and knocked him out cold. It was the exact distraction that Bill needed - he was able to break free and take care of the rest.
"What is goin' on down here?"
Arthur turned just as a brute of a man came stomping down the stairs. He was at least a head taller than himself, arms the size of tree trunks. The only disadvantage he had was his pot belly. "Come here you little greaser."
Javier didn't cower, he stood up to the brute and socked him right in his jaw. Only...he was much bigger than Javier. He drove his fist into Javier's stomach, then another in his jaw, which sent him into one of the many wooden tables.
A drunk came up behind Arthur and began choking him. He gripped his forearms, digging his nails into his flesh, anything to get away. And when he had an opening, he slammed his elbow into his attacker's ribs until he backed off. Arthur spun around and socked him in the jaw, knocking him out cold.
He hurried over to Javier, who was being attacked by the brute. He was repeatedly slamming his face into a table and had no plans of stopping any time soon.
"Hey! Asshole!" He socked him in the back of the head.
The brute dropped Javier and spun around. Arthur was able to throw the first punch, before he turned his attack onto him. The brute slammed his fist into Arthur's face, then tossed him across the table as if he was simply a ragdoll.
"You want some too?"
He gripped Arthur by the shoulders and tossed him through the window, sending him flying through shards of glass and landing in the muddy streets of Valentine. He landed with a heavy thud, all of the sweet air that he possessed knocked out of his lungs.
He rolled over, gasping and clawing the mud. He could faintly hear voices, but he was so disoriented he couldn't tell who they belonged to or if they were even real.
"C'mon pretty boy!"
He stood to his wobbly feet. "Pretty boy - you're kiddin' me right?"
ETHAN'S POV
"Oh shit! Pa!"
Ethan ran over to the body that was tossed out of the saloon, only to realize that it was Arthur. He stood up before Ethan could reach him, stumbling around on wobbly legs, as a very large man charged him. Ethan rushed in as he grabbed one of the wooden chairs that had somehow miraculously landed in the middle of the road, rushing the brute, only to be shoved back. He fell hard on his ass, nearly knocking the wind out of him. It took a few seconds for him to get back to his feet. When he finally stood though, he saw Arthur on the ground, giving Ethan full access to the brute. He kicked the man in the thigh, then broke the chair over his back.
The brute roared as he stood to his feet, swatting at him. Ethan jumped on his back and slammed his fists in the side of his ribs, until his hands went numb. He was shoved off the brute and on to the ground again, where another drunken local attacked him. The brute continued his assault on Arthur, shouting slurs and spitting.
Ethan screamed as his fists connected with the face of the man he couldn't see. His eyes were open, but he was covered in mud. He thrust his fist forward and suddenly heard a choke, then a groan, before the man went limp. Ethan heaved and shoved him to the side.
As he stood to his feet, he saw Arthur on top of the brute, pummeling his face. It seemed as if he was losing steam, but the very large man had lost all of his. He stumbled over to his father, his face bloodied and hands tingling.
"Pa" He cleared his throat. "PA!"
Another man ran over and Ethan was ready, but he saw the man had no intentions of fighting him. He tugged on Arthur's arm, begging him to stop. Ethan hurried over and the other man backed away.
"Pa, enough!"
Arthur stilled, then slowly stood to his feet with Ethan's help. He was a bloody, muddy, aching mess, as he stumbled for the alley of the saloon. There was always a water trough there for the horses, but he figured he could use it to clean himself up with.
"What the hell was that all about!?" Ethan shouted.
Arthur waved his hand as he limped to the trough. It hurt now, he couldn't imagine how it would feel tomorrow. Ethan watched as he cupped his hands in the cool water and splashed it on his face, shoulders and arms.
"Miss Grimshaw is gonna have your ass for looking like that."
"Yeah" He rolled his shoulders. "I ain't afraid of her."
"You should be."
"Don't you have something to do?"
"Well I was supposed to make sure you idiots didn't create trouble, but I guess I failed."
Arthur nodded. "Yeah, but I'll take the rap. You're just a kid anyways."
"I'm an adult jackass."
"Gentlemen."
They turned as Dutch and Josiah Trelawny walked across the street towards them, ever so poised and gentle, something they really weren't. Well Trelawny was, but Dutch was not. His words were fancy, his actions proved otherwise.
"Lovely show you put on...is he dead?"
"Unconscious." Ethan answered.
"Bill got into a little tussle back there and it turned into a brawl." Arthur tried to explain.
Dutch shook his head. "Thank you for keeping it quiet, I'm sure the law won't be on to us."
Trelawny clapped Ethan's shoulder. "Young Ethan Morgan, you've grown since I saw you last!"
He grinned. "Josiah Trelawny, I believe the last time I saw you I was seventeen? eighteen?"
He chortled. "I remember those days! Scheming and chasing girls...might you have a young lady friend?"
Ethan felt the back of his neck prickle at the question, but before he could answer, Dutch called Trelawny over. And he was thankful for the distraction, because he didn't think he could talk about Mary-Beth yet. He had trouble admitting it to himself, let alone anyone else.
"Yes dear Arthur, you've made quite the spectacle here in Valentine."
"Had to do something, it's boring around here."
He tapped Arthur's boot with his cane. "I've got some distressing news about young Sean."
Arthur looked up.
Dutch frowned. "Is he dead?"
"No...not yet. It seems as if some bounty hunters are holding him out near Blackwater. They'll be transporting him to prison shortly."
"By land?"
"By water. A steamboat."
"Ah shit." Arthur grumbled.
Ethan shook his head. "What do we do? We can't leave him."
Trelawny turned to him. "No, No, we will not be leaving him." He expelled a shaky sigh. "You're a good kid. Not like your father here, he's always been a little rotten. It seems as if he's spoiled a few more."
Arthur nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah yeah, I'm the apple with all the holes. Probably a few worms too."
"That is disgusting, but...a very good analogy," Trelawny chuckled. "I'm not sure how you raised such a fine boy. He must've inherited his brains from his mother."
"Among other things." He turned to Dutch. "So what do we do about the Irishman?"
"It all depends. When are they transporting him?"
"In a day or two. Depending on the weather."
Dutch nodded. "We'll meet them as they reach the shore and break our little Irish friend out."
"You say it as if it's so easy. It won't be. This isn't a coach or a bank heist, this is bounty hunters, incredibly dangerous people that work with the law." Ethan reminded.
"Your boy has a good point. Arthur, what will we do?"
Arthur shrugged.
"First thing's first, we get the hell out of here." Dutch announced.
"Yes well...I think we may have a problem now." Trelawny pointed.
The townsfolk that were standing around the saloon at the time of the fight, were now hurrying off in the opposite direction. Arthur stood and limped to the edge of the wall, peering around the corner. He turned back and pressed a finger to his lips.
Ethan inched closer. "Pinkertons?"
He nodded. "No, local. They're talking to the brute."
"Well Gentlemen, I think I am going to call it a day." Trelawny announced, tipping his hat.
Ethan rolled his eyes.
Dutch walked up behind Arthur and Ethan. "Where are Charles and Javier?"
"Inside the saloon."
"And Bill?"
"Him too."
He heaved a sigh. "Great."
"Let's go around back and call the horses." Ethan suggested.
"Good idea."
"What about the others?"
"There's a back entrance to the place."
The three men rounded the back of the saloon, only to be met with Charles, Javier and Bill. They were crouched down behind some tin trash cans, hiding from the law, who were starting to search high and low for whoever started the brawl.
"This all could've been avoided if you laid low like we were told." Ethan scolded.
"Hey don't you start, kid." Bill warned, pointing a finger in his direction.
"Keep your fingers to yourself." Arthur warned.
Dutch stepped forward. "Alright listen to me, arguing and pointing fingers won't help the situation. We need to be calm about this."
"He's right." Arthur agreed.
"We should split up." Ethan suggested.
"That's a great idea," Dutch praised. "Alright look, Bill, Javier and Charles you go towards the church. The law is looking this way, they won't go back that way. We three will sneak over to the livery and call the horses, then we'll all meet up near the tracks. Is that clear?"
The six men went their separate ways, knowing that it would only be for a short time. Bill was angry and was heard cursing as they snuck behind the buildings towards the church. Ironic. As they snuck away themselves, they heard the lawmen speaking loudly, giving away their location. It only made it easier for them in the long run. And thankfully, a few hay wagons were passing through, giving them a bigger advantage.
They crossed the street and were able to quickly dart behind a fruit and vegetable stand, then the livery. They stood against the wall, chuckling to themselves. It was always an adventure when it came to them - always. It took a moment for them to catch their breath, before Arthur was whistling for the horses.
"Be ready. It's gonna look suspicious."
They heard the heavy thundering hooves. The two horses rounded the bend and they jumped on, not wanting to waste time. Since Ethan had left Gray at camp when himself, Uncle and the girls had gone into town, he was horseless, meaning he had to jump up behind his father on Bleu. They galloped out of town, trying to get far enough away, before turning around. The tracks were in the opposite direction, which would mean they would have to travel on the outskirts to get there.
"Hey, I'm sorry about that back there."
"About what?"
"Fightin' that man...getting us all in trouble again."
Ethan smiled. "We're not really in trouble...yet."
Arthur snorted. "Yeah yet. If we stayed any longer, we'd be swingin' by tomorrow."
Ethan swallowed thickly, his father's words ringing loudly in his head. He didn't want to even think about them getting caught and being hanged or any other form of death. He was still too young to be okay with dying. As they neared the tracks, they saw Charles, Bill and Javier waiting for them, like they all planned. Trelawny said he would be by later, when things cooled down. No one really knew where he went in the meantime and they didn't ask.
They slowed the horses down just as they crossed over the tracks, regrouping the six of them near the tree line - out of sight, out of danger.
"We're gonna head to Blackwater and see if we can find Sean."
Dutch nodded. "Be careful and don't get caught. If you do, we can't save you. We go to Blackwater, we're as good as dead there."
"Seems to be the consensus lately." Arthur sassed.
Charles chuckled. "We'll stay out of trouble if you do."
"You going too, Bill?" Ethan questioned.
"No. I've had enough for today."
"Bet you ain't drunk anymore, huh?"
He rolled his eyes and galloped off on Old Boy. Arthur nudged Ethan; he smirked.
"Alright, if you're not back in two days, we'll come looking. But I can't make any promises."
Javier nodded. "We'll be okay, Amigo. Go rest and lay low for a while."
"We'll be fine." Charles assured.
They watched them ride off in the opposite direction of camp, an uncertainty settling in their stomachs. Going back to the scene of the crime meant one thing only; death. They hoped it didn't come to that, Javier and Charles are good men and are a huge asset to the gang. To lose them would be losing a piece of the gang.
—
May 22, 1899
The last few weeks have been wild to say the least. First the dumbass Reverend was nearly killed by a train, when his foot got stuck in the track. Nearly lost my life saving his ass. I felt the wind of the train on my back and it terrified me because we were already hanging over the edge of the bridge.
Crazy old man is lost, I guess, but my Pa says it's the opium. Needless to say, I won't be falling down that hole...ever!
Hosea had the bright idea to send me to town for supplies and at first, it was a good idea, until Uncle invited himself along. I didn't have a problem with it, except for his smell. But then the girls tagged along. Karen got beat up, Tilly ran into an old face that wasn't happy to see her, then somebody recognized us.
I had to chase him down. Poor bastard ended up being flung from his horse and hanging off the side of a cliff. Decided to save him, no idea why, just felt like the right thing to do. Crazy thing is, he had gotten me mixed up with someone else, my Pa. Not surprising considering how much we look alike.
He gave me a fountain pen though, which I plan to give to Mary-Beth. She's been asking for one to write her stories with.
After that, I went back to town to see if Uncle had taken the girls back to camp, when I see someone fly through the saloon window. I run over and quickly realize it's my father! He and some big man (And when I say big, I mean huge) were fighting. I didn't think my Pa would make it, but he prevailed.
I got into it with a few drunken fools myself, got a black eye and a couple broken fingers for my efforts. My Pa has a few bruised ribs and a deep gash on his face, but after a few stitches he's like new again. Sometimes this stuff happens and sometimes it takes an all out brawl to fix it.
However, we were supposed to be laying low until the law wasn't looking for us anymore, but that's kinda irrelevant now.
I kinda feel bad about hurting that guy back at the bar, I don't even know who it was, I couldn't see him, but I know I hurt him. I heard him choke, which means I hit him in the throat. I remember when I was little, I ran into a clothesline throat first and I was pretty sure I was going to die. I can't imagine the pain he felt.
Thing is though, I've never been that angry before. I don't know if it was seeing my Pa getting beat up or not being able to defend him, but I was terribly angry. So angry I was seeing red. It could be from holding it in all these years, I'm not sure. I think my Pa was in shock too - he's never seen me act out that way. I guess there comes a time in every man's life when he stops being a child and becomes an adult. I think, for me, that time is now.
Well I'm gonna get some sleep, my fingers are hurting something awful. I'll try to write some more tomorrow.
E.M
