AN:I'm in a writing mood. Also I plan to start updating frequently if I have time.

May 8th

I groaned as I blinked my eyes open, my head was pounding.

"One drink my ass," I muttered, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I sat up.

I heard a chuckle, I looked over to see Karen shaking her head.

"What's so funny," I muttered as I stood up and stretched.

"Nothing," she said grinning.

I nodded unbelieving, "Uh huh." I yawned as I popped my neck.

I walked outside to see Colter was bustling with activity as it looked like everyone was packing up.

"Ah Mister Booker. Glad to see your awake," said Dutch as he stood beside Hosea.

"Morning Dutch. Morning Hosea," I said yawning again.

"Mister Booker! Glad to see your awake! Help carry this to the wagon's," said Ms Grimshaw holding a crate.

I sighed and walked over before taking the crate from her. I hoisted it on my shoulder and followed Bill before handing it to Lenny who put it in the back of one of the wagons.

I walked back and grabbed a suitcase before walking back to the wagons and loading it in. I continued to do this several more times with various things before Arthur rode up.

I groaned at how loud he was speaking, as I went back and grabbed the last crate before loading it into a wagon.

"Kid, hop in the back," Arthur said, climbing into the seat with Hosea.

I hoisted myself into the back and took a seat with my legs hanging out. We were the last wagon so I could watch the land we left behind.

We mostly sat in silence as we left, but that was okay with me. As I got to enjoy nature in its purest form. I watched as the sun glimmered over what I assumed to be Lake Isabella. A few smoke plumes raised over the mountain dividing Lake Isabella and us. I asked Hosea about it and he told it was a town called Dover, he said it was a mining town like Annesburg. This confused me as I didn't remember any town named Dover from when I searched about the five states.

"By the way I never did thank you Andrew," Hosea called back.

"It's fine. I just didn't expect the O'Driscoll's," I answered wincing but still grinning.

"O'Driscoll's," Hosea questioned.

"Yeah. Five of'em came to the homestead, said that some guy named Tom sent them. Told them to look for any supplies," I answered.

"Huh. You didn't get hurt?"

I shook my head, "Nope. Besides this bruise," I said pointing to it. It was a deep purple and it hurt just to barely press down.

We passed two huge doors made of wood, I looked at it in awe. I recognized it as we were entering West Elizabeth.

"Huh. That's strange," Hosea said as we started across a river.

We started to be pushed towards the falls as we crossed.

"Get us out the stream," Hosea said looking back at the wheels. The horses started to spook and dance around.

"Try to keep us moving but calm," Hosea advised as we rolled to the other side.

Suddenly the wheel broke off and I got knocked out of the wagon by a huge jug.

"Aw shit," Arthur cursed as he threw the reins down.

"You alright back there," Bill called.

"Does everything look alright," Arthur retorted climbing down.

"Well what happened," Javier asked.

"I broke the goddamn wheel," Arthur said, walking towards the back. I stood up and surveyed it.

"Alright! Let's get it fixed," said Hosea climbing down.

"You need any help," Javier called as Charles walked back towards us.

"I reckon we can handle it," said Hosea.

"Alright you two. You help me hold this up while Arthur gets the wheel back on," Hosea instructed.

Charles, Hosea, and I all lifted the back end to make it to where Arthur could get the well on.

"You still strong enough to hold up a wagon," Arthur asked teasingly.

"Shut up," Hosea retorted, strain in his voice.

"Just saying," Arthur muttered, lifting the wagon wheel onto the axle.

"I'm letting go," I muttered before doing so.

I went on the other side of the wheel and bashed it all the way back on with Arthur. I reached in the back and grabbed a wrench that was more than likely used to tighten the hubcaps to keep the wheel from falling off.

"See you ain't so useless after all," said Arthur grinning.

Hosea stepped away from the wagon while holding his back and laughing, "Not quite."

I lifted a suitcase off the ground and put it back in. I turned to see the others staring up at some natives on a cliff.

"What you think," Arthur asked, putting the wrench up.

"If they wanted trouble, we wouldn't have seen'em," said Charles.

Hosea raised his hand up in greeting, "Poor bastards. We really screwed them over down here. Come on, let's not push our luck."

Arthur picked up the jug and Charles grabbed the crate before they put both in the back.

"What happened," Arthur asked.

"Well get in and I'll tell ya," Hosea said, climbing back into the passenger seat.

"Same thing people's been doing to them all their lives," I muttered, climbing into the back.

I saw Charles give me a look, "What do you know about them?"

I shrugged, "Not much about the Wapiti. But my great grandmother was a Creek while my grandmother was half Cherokee. So I was taught what things the white man did."

Charles nodded and climbed in.

"Not too far now," Hosea said as Arthur sat down, "Just stay in this trail. We'll follow the river then cut left inland."

We started forward I listened in on the conversation, while I mostly watched the Dakota river flow by us.

"So... yes. the Indians in these parts got sold a very raw deal. This is the Heartlands we're going to, good farming and grazing country, they lost it all. Stolen clean away from them it was, every blade of grass. Killed or herded up to the reservations in the middle of nowhere," Hosea explained to Arthur.

"It's no different than anywhere else," I retorted, "Thousands of my ancestors were killed as they had to walk for thousands of miles."

Hosea shook his head, "That's not what I meant. It's just some of the Army was particularly uh...unpleasant about it."

"Unpleasant? How do you rob and kill people pleasantly, we don't. In spite of Dutch's talk," Charles argued.

"I fear I was perhaps trying to simplify something more complicated for the benefit of our blockheaded driver here," said Hosea.

It seemed Arthur took offense, which basically proved Hosea right.

"Hey, don't blame it on me. Never forget, this here's a conman Charles, born and bred. Just cause it sounds fancy don't mean he knows a damn thing about what he's talking about," Arthur said as we went through a roof covered bridge.

We fell into silence for a few minutes.

"So what happened to your tribe," Arthur asked Charles.

"I don't even know if I have one," Charles replied almost depressingly, "Least not that I can remember. My father was a colored man. They told me he lived with our people for a while, a number of free men did, but...when we were forced to move from our lands, the three of us fled. I was too young to really remember much. All my life I've been on the run. A couple years later, some soldiers captured my mother, took her somewhere. We never saw her again. We drifted around...he was a very sad man and the drink had a mean hold on him. Around thirteen...I just took off on my own."

"That was about the age we found young Arthur here. Maybe a little older, a wilder delinquent you never did see but he learned fast," said Hosea, a smile obvious in his voice.

"Not as fast as Marston apparently," Arthur retorted bitterness in his tone.

"Wait...I don't understand. What's the problem between you two," Charles asked.

"Arthur," Hosea asked, amusement clearly in his tone.

"I...it's a long story."

We reached an intersection where one path went up a hill while the other continued along the river.

"We still heading the right way," Arthur asked as we stayed on the straight path.

"That depends...are we still heading west, in search of fortune and repose in virgin forests, as we planned? No. Are we heading in the correct direction on our desperate escape from the law eastwards down the mountains? Yes, I believe so," Hosea replied.

"You know this area," Charles asked.

"A little. I've been through a couple of times. There's a livestock town not too far called Valentine. Cowboys, outlaws, working girls. Our kind of place," Hosea said with a smile.

"O'Driscoll's," Arthur asked.

"Probably them too."

"Pinkerton's," he asked hesitating.

"Let's hope not," said Hosea.

"And this place we're going to...wait what's it called again," Arthur asked, looking from the road to his elder.

"Horseshoe Overlook," I answered, wondering how it got its name.

"It's a good place to lie low?"

"It'll do for now. And how low do you think Dutch is really going to lie? It's just maybe….its me who's changed not him. But we kept telling him that the ferry job didn't feel right. You and me had a real lead in Blackwater that could've worked out," Hosea said, shaking his head.

Arthur shrugged and looked uncomfortable, "Maybe."

"It just...isn't like Dutch to lose his head like that."

"Things go wrong sometimes. People die. It's the way it is, always has been. Me, you, Dutch...we've all been in this line of work a long time, and we're still here, so...I figure we must've got it right a hell of a lot more than we got it wrong," Arthur retorted, chuckling.

We settled into silence for a few minutes before Arthur looked over at Hosea.

"What're you working on there?"

"Just some yarrow and ginseng, good for the health. Better than that stuff you buy in the store," Hosea replied before handing Arthur the bowl, "Here. I'm at the point I could do this with my eyes closed."

Arthur took it and nodded, "Okay...thank you."

We started to slow down as we neared the spot.

"There you are brother," said Javier walking towards us, "Just head in there and follow the track a bit."

"Okay. Thanks," said Arthur turning us onto the beaten path.

"Hey slow up! I'll jump on," said Javier walking towards the back.

Arthur slowed enough to let Javier jump on.

"He's on," I said before we started towards the temporary home.

"Any trouble getting here Javier," Hosea asked as we neared camp.

"No. It's a good spot," answered the Mexican.

"Good. I think this'll work for us Arthur," Hosea said as we came to a stop.

The gang members were walking around setting up camp at a rapid pace.

"Here we are gentlemen. Home sweet home," Hosea said climbing off the wagon. I jumped off and started walking towards the camp.

"You weren't wrong Hosea," said Dutch walking towards us, "This place is perfect!"

"Andrew. Come help me unload the wagon," called Javier from the back.

I turned around and caught a sack of flour Javier tossed me. I hoisted it over my shoulder and turned towards the camp.

"Take it to Pearson's wagon," said Javier as he grabbed another sack and climbed down.

I walked over to the aforementioned wagon the sun blaring brightly into my eyes, "Just set it in the back Mister Booker," said Pearson setting up his cooking table.

I did as told before walking back and grabbing another sack of flour. I deposited the bag once more before turning back towards the wagon.

Before I could grab a crate I was bumped into, I stumbled but managed to grab onto the wagon before I fell.

"My apologies Mister Booker."

I looked to see Strauss standing up, his clipboard on the ground. I reached down and picked it up, "It's fine, Herr Strauss."

He accepted it with a nod before continuing on his way.

I reached into the wagon and grabbed a crate, reading the words 'Ammunition' on the side, I turned and walked towards the one wagon I knew kept bullets.

"Now, everyone put your tools down for a moment. Come on, gather round, quickly now," Dutch called standing in front of his tent.

I set the crate down and walked over coming to a stop between Bill and Mary-Beth. I gave my neck a scratch, noticing that my whiskers were coming back.

"I know that things have been tough... but we are safe now, and we are far too poor," Dutch said, waving his cigar as he did so, "So it is time for everyone to get to work."

"Get to work but stay out of trouble," Hosea said stepping forward, "Remember, we are itinerant workers laid-"

"Laid off when they shut down our factory to the north," Dutch continued, "Now, get out there, and see what you can find."

The leader turned, "Uncle, Reverend Swanson...no more passengers."

Mary-Beth and Karen giggled quietly to themselves.

"It is time for everyone to earn their keep," Dutch said emphasizing the last few words.

Hosea stepped forward and pointed in the direction we came from, "There's a town a little way down the track... name of Valentine...live stock town. All mud and morons if I remember right. That seems a decent place to start."

Pearson cleared his throat, "And we need food...real food. That means every day, one of you."

Dutch stepped into his tent and pulled out a box, "And remember, whatever it is you find...," he set the box down and opened it, "The camp gets its slice. Now be sensible out there."

Sensing that he was down with his speech everybody dispersed. I walked back and grabbed the crate I had left before walking towards the wagon near Arthur's tent.

"Mister Booker?"

I turned to see Tilly walking towards me, "Yes," I asked slowing down so we could walk and talk.

"Miss Grimshaw asked me to tell you that we don't have an extra pallet, so you could sleep in the back of one of the wagon's," explained the slightly older woman.

"That's fine. I've slept in worse spots I'm sure," I said reassuringly as I lifted the crate up and into the back of wagon.

"Okay...do you mind telling me what Saint Denis is like," she asked.

I stumbled, "Uh...well its certainly advanced in some parts and others...aren't the best. But if you have money or know the right people you'll be fine."

"Surely its better than that," Tilly protested.

I nodded, "I'm sure it is and it is a lot easier to live in but I was also an orphan."

Tilly winced, "I didn't mean-"

"It's fine, it doesn't bother me. I don't want to rich, I've met those that have just a little bit of money and eugh" I interrupted, smiling.

Tilly hesitated before smiling herself.

"Andrew! You gonna help me with the wagon," Charles called, carrying a crate.

"Be right there," I called back before turning towards Tilly, "I should get to work," I said scratching under my chin.

"Yeah. I should too before Miss Grimsh-"

"Miss Jackson!"

Tilly sighed before turning and walking towards the matriarch of the gang.

"So what d'you think about this place," Charles asked handing me some tent poles.

"It's hard to say so soon but it definitely provides good cover," I answered as I took the poles and set them outside a tent.

Charles set down the crate near the small campfire, "I think so too. Plus it's close enough to a town in case we need supplies."

I climbed into the wagon and looked around before jumping back out, "Think that's all we need," I said as Charles stopped beside me.

"Alright, I'll move the wagon and unhitch the horses," Charles said climbing into the driving seat.

"You sure," I asked walking towards the front of the wagon.

"Sure. You go ahead, Pearson's probably got some stew cooked or something."

I nodded before turning and heading towards Pearson's little cooking area.

"Ah Mister Booker, I assume you want a bowl of my stew," Pearson asked turning and grabbing a bowl and a spoon.

"Yep. What's in it?"

"Some deer with carrots and potatoes," he answered handing me the bowl.

"Thanks," I said with a nod before turning to the rest of the camp.

The women were setting up the last tent, while Hosea, Bill, Jack, Javier, Charles, Reverend Swanson, Mrs Adler, and Uncle sat around the camp fire.

I turned to see Arthur laying on his cot, his hat covering his face.

"Andrew Booker! Glad you could join," Uncle said as I sat crisscrossed on the ground.

I nodded as I took a bite of my supper. I looked around conversations going left and right. I looked to my right to see Jack and Hosea speaking, whatever the kid said making Hosea laugh. Bill was talking with Javier while the two drank their beers. Uncle was talking to Reverend Swanson while trying to get Charles to join in.

I shook my head and smiled, this was what a family should be like.