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Chapter 16
Arthur sped to Strawberry as quickly as he could. The steed only slowed when energy was spent which Arthur'd understood as it wasn't trained completely yet, but when he'd sped up, Arthur got to Strawberry within an hour and thirty minutes or so. His mood only got worse 'cause it should, would, have been Micah. Maybe killing Colm wasn't a good idea 'cause since then, even bigger changes have been made, influencing Dutch's decision-making and such. The entire gang goddamn it.
Ugh, he was an idiot, and he'd always blamed Micah for being as such.
When he'd finally arrived at Strawberry, Arthur had a brief moment to wonder 'bout what would have happened if he'd made a living here. The town was only just building, and further advancements were expected, but small establishments were mainly what to describe Strawberry at this point.
The more he'd thought 'bout it, the more he'd realized it was not a location Arthur would want to take it easy at. Ain't much longer before Pinkertons started coming here.
His horse moved over to the Sheriff's Office and the form of Maggie hitched right outside the building gave him reassurances that the kid was alright, but likely, they'd wished to make Lenny look as much as a bloody criminal as possible.
The horse looked at Arthur and neighed in recognition, shoving her upper body up in excitement. She wasn't perfect, but she was relatively docile and extremely loyal, just like Lenny.
Wanting not to get unwanted attention, he moved over and tapped the horse on the neck, calming her down. "Imma get Lenny. Calm down, girl. Girl! Calm down."
Maggie obeyed, leaning her head down in his direction. He placed his hand on top of her snout and sniffed when she'd calmed.
"Make sure he falls off later for getting himself captured, why don't ya, girl?" He always had a good bond with horses, even the ones that ain't belong to him.
Arthur disembarked from his horse and placed his Springfield Rifle on his back. 4 rounds. But fully loaded to other calibers. It should last him a bit. He had his revolver for backup. After checking to make sure he was fully armed and loaded, he approached and knocked on the door.
He'd waited.
"Yeah?" A Deputy opened the door with a pistol in hand.
"Hello, sir," Arthur said, raising his hands over his head, "I've come from Blackwater-a Pinkerton. There was a fight earlier, I heard. I believe one of the people that you've apprehended is one of them folks."
"We don't deal with the bounty hunting business around here, mister." The Sheriff stated, distracted by the paperwork on his desk.
"I was just wondering if I could confirm it's the same person," Arthur said timidly.
The Sheriff sighed. "Well there were three of them," The man put his pen down and moved towards Arthur. "One gets into a drunken fight, in which he kills two men, and is almost caught by the law. Then the fat fool came in and started blasting out my officers and various different people. We found this Negro. I don't know if they were friends, but they were with each other. Caught him attempting to escape."
Arthur nodded, "I appreciate your help, sir."
He exited onto the dirty street. Ah, that explained things. At least, the boy was in the same cell as Micah, relieving his frustration and irritation.
He walked around the side of the Sheriff's Office, his body freezing when he spotted no Lenny.
Goddamn time travel!
Where the fuck was the kid?!
Panic gripped him.
Only then did Arthur notice people were gathering up. The Sheriff and Deputies exited the office. Another wagon pulled up, picking them up, and leading down the street.
He'd gotten on top of his horse, unhitching Maggie, and followed behind the wagon. They conveyed with other wagons and horses. An over-exaggeration of security if Arthur does say so himself.
His worst fears came true.
And low and behold, in the main wagon, was Lenny Summers.
When they'd arrived at the stage where the swinging would take place, Lenny was dragged out of the wagon, his hands bound together. Taking a closer look, he'd seen Lenny's busted lip and bruises across his face. It angered him.
What the hell have they done to him?!
Stopping the horses and hiding them in what little cover he could, Arthur spotted the fear across Lenny's face as the noose tied around his neck. The hanging man smiled sadistically as Lenny stared around nervously, his hands being secured behind his back.
The formal man began to speak, "This negro is guilty of murder of twelve civilians..."
Arthur toned the rest of the meeting out. He'd doubted that these weren't charges that were being coughed up on a whim to make Lenny look worse. He almost scoffed. How little regard do people in positions of power have over civilians-especially those of Lenny's type.
Goddamn Micah Bell and Bill Williamson!
"These negros have been inflicting our land long enough. It's time for true justice to be brought today. Anyone who goes against the law, especially those of this type of horrid skin, ould be hunted down and defeated."
Lenny's eyes widened in horror as he turned to look at the man. One pull and everything would end for him. Arthur was just getting as close as possibly could, knowing if fuck this up, Lenny was damned again.
"Let us end this terrible affair and conclude this business! May God forgive you, boy, because no one dead or alive will!"
Time slowed again, ears ringing, and Arthur had his revolver raised, drawing an invisible "x" as he fired the bullets, dropping the hanging man and the people next to him, along with the rope tied around his neck.
Lenny's eyes went wide, but it didn't last for long, as he collapsed on stage, and removed the remnants of the rope. By now, all of the lawmen and people turned to look at Arthur who simply raised his gun and started firing at the shooting gunman, avoiding the innocent people.
Innocents retreated at the sight of the fearsome outlaw. The lawmen retreated behind what cover they could, but only a few made it. His hand lingered over the trigger, only stopping a brief time to reload, before continuing to unleash hell upon them.
The lawmen who managed to duck and fire forced Arthur to do so himself, but it turned out to be a major mistake. Lenny was behind them, reaching for the few dead's revolvers, and firing at the men. Some of his bullets missed their marks, but others connected, dropping them onto the ground.
Arthur moved up the small stairs and reached out for him, seeing him caress his neck. "That damn rope was not fun to have tied around my neck at all, huh Arthur? I thought I was a fucking dead man."
"You just couldn't run, huh, Lenny?" Arthur spoke, not even angry with Lenny-just disappointed. He shouldn't be like this right now. "What the hell did they do to ya?"
"I was beaten up. I thought they were going to lynched me sooner, but they had to make it look all legal, ya know. They were searching for fatass and that son of a bitch." He nodded, "I owe you one, Arthur."
"It's what friends do for each other, kid."
"I thought Dutch would come for me," Lenny stated, a little hurt.
"Ah, you know Dutch? Too busy with dealing with a rat." He subtly implanted more seeds of doubt into the darker-skinned man.
Whether it worked or not, Lenny laughed at that. He gripped his repeater and fired at the approaching men who shot at their direction, coming painfully close. If any of them poked their heads out, they were doomed.
"Stay behind me. I ain't letting you get shot." Again, like in Saint Denis, he bit himself from saying.
"Should have known you were up to no good!" The familiar voice of the Sheriff chorused upon gunfire.
Instinctively, Arthur held his repeater out and fired three bullets, piercing them through the chest. The men collapsed onto the ground one by one, and with the momentary peace, a shiver coursed down his spine. Arthur couldn't help but feel sorry for the men who were simply doing their jobs, even if that job description involved killing them.
Unfortunately, more civilians of Strawberry who wanted Lenny to swing came forward, making life slightly harder for the gunslinger. One on a wagon, and the other on foot. They aimed and opened fire in his direction, forcing Arthur to reload and fire at them as well. Two he'd missed. Five he had put down within five seconds.
More men on horses approached, shooting in their direction.
He poked out and fired at them.
"Hey, Arthur, they took my weapons," Lenny called over, shooting another man off the horse, his eyes flashing contemplatively. He shook his head and shrugged, "but eh let 'em keep it. I just want to get back to camp."
Arthur nodded in agreement. Very likely, the same folks who stole Micah got Lenny's weapon, but he could always just replace it.
"Ya know!" Lenny shouted, sarcasm in his voice, "This reminds me of the good old days Hosea likes telling me 'bout. 'cept the great Arthur Morgan came to bail me out of trouble."
Arthur smirked. "You could go back in your cell, ya know."
Already, the dark-skinned man was shaking his head, the smirk clear on his lips as much as the irritation. "I'll pass."
Gripping Lenny by the arm, he dashed down through the streets, firing back at the few lawmen, a warning if anything else. When they'd gotten into a more or less cleared area, both men whistled for their horses and got on.
He gripped the reins of his horse, making Ryan off into a sprint with Arthur firing back at the dozen or so men shooting at them. Maggie followed behind with Lenny providing covering fire as well.
'Bout ten minutes later into a relative cover fire that occurred only seconds prior, Arthur knew they were searching for him. The sounds of horse stomps and running made that crystal clear. Others running with guns in their hands as well.
Ryan and Maggie stayed silent and led them on the path Arthur continued to make in his head. When they were away from Strawberry in the forest, and the shouts of the men and horses became distant, Arthur knew that they were in the clear.
"That's the last time I will ever agree to go with Micah and Bill anywhere." Lenny breathed out.
Arthur shrugged, "The next time, just leave 'em to swing."
Lenny sighed. "Ya know, they were planning to blame me for all charges." His voice became a little sadder. "He always be taking the blame."
Remembering his meeting and helping with that one fella who thought he'd offended him in Rhodes, Arthur could understand. He'd never seen the problem with Charles and Lenny's skin tones that "civilized" folks had. That was another good thing 'bout being raised under Hosea and Dutch-he had to admit. Teaching him how to treat everyone the same and welcoming diversity in the gang.
When they made it back to camp after around an hour of making sure they weren't followed, Arthur and Lenny hitched Ryan and Maggie. The latter had a scowl across his lips as Arthur followed him up to Dutch who'd just so happened to be present with Micah and Bill.
"Oh, glad to see you're back with us, boy!" Bill said in a pompous loud tone, clapping Lenny in camaraderie.
Dutch landed the fat man with an unimpressed stare. "His name is Lenny, and he's one of us, so don't call him that no more."
"Sorry, Dutch," Bill looked ashamed and incredibly well-reprimanded. Arthur fought a laugh. It was a wonderful scene to witness.
"Ain't it nice when they talk 'bout hanging you for crimes you haven't committed?" It had been a long time since Lenny looked this pissed. "If Arthur hadn't came for me..."
"Ah, you're still alive, aren't ya?!" Micah laughed. "C'mon, kid, it was a bad situation."
"Whatever you say," he replied bitterly, before at last, the weight of the situation came down upon the poor lad's shoulders. He collapsed forward, and Arthur and Dutch reached out for him. The treatment he'd undergone was going to take a while to recover from.
"While Lenny recovers, we're going to need some guards watching over camp," Hosea said sternly, eyeing both Bill and Micah with no small amount of disapproval. "You two will be filling his duties."
"Oh, but come on, old man-" Bill began to complain, his feelings on that obvious.
"This is not a negotiation," Dutch interjected authoritatively. It was only a reminder of how "fair" Dutch van der Linde was when he'd wanted to be. How would he still have Lenny's loyalty if he didn't allow him time to sleep it off? "Hosea's right. You both left him behind. He needs rest for the next few weeks and he will get it."
A lengthy silence passed.
"...Of course, boss," Micah consented, doing his best to hide any anger or negative emotion. If he'd lost Dutch's loyalty, he wouldn't be able to twist the gang into anything he'd imagined.
"Fine..." Bill agreed in his pompous way, rolling his eyes. "I need a beer first."
"Now..." Hosea cut in. "You can get yourself drunk later."
"I know you were upset earlier, and haven't approved of me lately, but still, well done, son," Dutch said, clapping Arthur on the shoulder. "You go get some rest too."
This command, Arthur was glad to follow.
He was 'bout to take a nap when he'd noticed Tilly walked up, adorned in her yellow dress.
"Are you okay, Arthur?" Concern was in her voice.
Arthur was taken back in time.
'You're a good girl. You have a good life now, you hear?'
'Alright, Arthur. I'l-I'll miss you.'
'Me too, sweetheart. Me too.'
"Never better," he responded with forced plainness, appreciating the time he had off.
"I know you and Dutch haven't been seeing eye-to-eye lately, but he means well. I ain't going to pretend to know what had happened to Blackwater, but... just saying you should..." Tilly paused and stared in the direction of Dutch, "should trust him more."
"I trust him, Tilly, but it's everything else I ain't been liking lately. We get to live. Those who did in that massacre does not." he stated with some solemness.
A glare crossed her face, and Arthur couldn't tell if it ain't been directed at him. "You know the Foreman Brothers?"
"Them boys who you used to run with?"
"They ran with me," she asserted as if correcting him. "They kidnapped me when I was twelve years old right from my momma. Malcolm Foreman..." she shivered, "well he treated me real bad. He was bad. You know how I slit his throat and ran away? I never felt bad 'bout killing him. I ran back to where my momma was working, but she'd died. I was falling into trouble."
Tilly looked up at him, her eyes flickering.
"Dutch... Dutch, he found me, saved me, raised me, treated me right, taught me to read. He ain't perfect, but he's the closest I've met in this world." Her glare darkened. "And how you been treating him lately ain't right, I think."
Arthur swallowed a curse. It made sense. Tilly stayed 'till the end and didn't run with Pearson, Swanson, Mary-Beth, and Uncle. Dutch took her in and taught her to read so she still did feel some loyalty to Dutch. She did believe that Molly got what she deserved due to breaking the gang rules. She believed in following the rules and she didn't want to help Kieran at all when he was tied up. Arthur did save her from Anthony Foreman twice and said she'll miss Arthur but since she followed the rules and if she heard Arthur doubting Dutch she may have disliked Arthur. Did she right now? If Tilly'd stayed 'till that showdown, would she have backed Dutch and Javier, who she also had a close bond with?
But Tilly was a smart girl. A brave one, too. Perhaps seeing Dutch leaving John to die would have snapped her out of that indoctrination. She was capable of thinking for herself, Arthur knew this. He knew that she was very loyal to Dutch, but it wasn't an obsession to appease his nature. Not like Javier. Arthur wouldn't give up on her.
For now, he had to choose his words carefully.
"I love Dutch. He'd done the same for me, Tilly. I really care 'bout him, but the man ain't above shortcomings as you've just admitted. Sometimes, he makes mistakes. Hosea knows this. That massacre and the death of Heidi McCourt is inexcusable."
Tilly's eyes didn't sharpen, but her voice did rise. "We have to stick together for survival, Arthur, it's the rules. Dutch would get us out of this. Give him some faith. He needs us all to survive." It struck him how similar she'd sounded to Javier in the final days of the gang. She was just worried 'bout him, 'bout him questioning the man who was her father figure.
"We also have a rule 'bout not killing innocents, Ms. Tilly. That girl was an innocent. She ain't been shooting at us. She didn't deserve to die."
The tension in her shoulders decreased, thankfully, and Tilly nodded. "I know, Arthur, but Dutch would make up for it. Everyone make mistakes. He wouldn't get us all killed. There's still time for him to take accountability."
He sighed and went over to his bed, and the moment his head met the makeshift pillow, sleep consumed him.