Sam stood up immediately from his seat. His back straightened up and his heart was beating so fast, he thought it would leap out from his chest.
"How do you know that?!" he snapped, his glare focusing on the old woman before him. He tried to look tough, but he could already feel that his gloved palms were getting sweaty.
"My friend has a knack of watching those who step out of line." The woman smiled. "The name's Maggie. Thanks for coming. Brandon was getting antsy."
"And where is he, by the way?" said Sam.
They heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. Rose was right behind Sam and Dutch. They turned to her and she gestured to a table all the way in the back in the corner. It was into the wall, a small light hanging over the table. Brandon was there, leaning back with a cigarette between his fingers. He saw Dutch and Sam approached and put it out on the tiny ash tray that sat on the surface of the table.
"There you are," said Brandon. He silenced himself to let them sit at the table. Rose sat next to Brandon just cleaning both of their guns.
"So," Dutch's voice raised a little. "You're the one who seems to know a lot about Sam and his family."
"Of course." Then he smirked. "Just like how your gang still operates, despite the Pinkertons on your tail…" He reached for his glass and took a sip before setting it down. "Dutch van der Linde."
Sam gasped a little, but then held his tongue. Dutch was staring daggers at the blonde who was just smirking still. He put his own drink down.
"So… then you know who exactly you're dealing with, then?" said Dutch. Sam gulped. His words were slow, clear, and concise, with the bass in his voice raising. He was serious.
Brandon sighed. "Relax. I'm a bounty hunter some days, but I'm not stupid. And even if I was that stupid, I wouldn't either way."
"Why is that?"
"You have one of your gang members to thank. I owe them a favor. Brandon Marrows is a man of his word."
"Very well, then." Dutch leaned back a little, but his guard was still up. "And I hope for your sake, that's true." Sam just breathed a sigh of relief. He did not want a shoot out right now. Brandon responded with a nod and tented his fingers, leaning forward a little.
"How may I help you?"
Sam locked his gray eyes with Brandon's blue ones. He didn't see any malice behind them. He was just a sassy little shit. That's what Sam could gather, at least for now.
"I need to find a man by the name of Rick Sullivan," said Sam. "I know there's a bounty out for his head, but I just want information on Colm."
"So, you actually want Colm?"
"I want him, so I can make him tell me who killed my uncle!" Sam's fingers twitched as they gripped the table tightly. Dutch just stared, but didn't do or say anything.
"So you seek vengeance?" said Brandon. Sam nodded. "I see. Rose and I know all about what that feels. Don't we?"
Rose just glanced at him and nodded.
"Excuse her. She don't talk much. Anyway, information such as that won't come cheap."
"I don't care about money," Sam said, his teeth showing like fangs. "I want words out of his mouth before there's a bullet in his head."
"S-Sam…" Dutch tried to say.
"That sounds like fun," said Brandon, "but we need him alive. I still have a living to make, but I'll let you have at him as long as he still draws breath when you're done."
Sam sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"
"We're on the trail of Rick Sullivan ourselves. We've tracked them to a place somewhere in Cumberland Forest, but they have hostages. They're likely the people missing from Valentine. I've sent Rose and a few other people to take a look and found some people matching the posters."
"So you want us to help you save them?"
Brandon leaned back in his chair. "Save a few lives, we find a way to Rick, and you get your answers. Everybody wins. Tell you what, I'll even give you a cut of some money. So, what do you say?"
Dutch looked over at Sam. He wasn't going to say anything. After all, this was Sam's decision, and this was the only lead he had… unless Kieran was lying. He had to find answers one way or another.
Or at the very least, he could make the group who killed Cliff suffer…
"Fine," Sam answered. "We'll help you."
"Excellent!"
"But just remember who I work for…" Sam grumbled. Even if he promised not to get the rest of the gang involved in this…
"Of course. Rose, go tell Fike to get us a drink of something. It's on me. You two are free to stay the night at the ranch. The owner never checks shit in the cabins. Forget about work until the morning comes."
Dutch and Sam met up with the others by the barn. Once they were sure no one was around to hear, they explained what they had learned. Dutch sighed, upon seeing Hosea seemed doubtful once more.
"What is it, now?" Dutch asked, irritably.
"The man knows you, Dutch. He knew Sam, and chances are he knows about me and Arthur, as well."
"I promised Dutch I wouldn't place your gang in danger," Sam then said. He was keeping himself from making eye contact with Arthur. He knew without looking that the outlaw was giving him a disapproving look. He didn't necessarily look angry, but Sam couldn't stand those blue eyes staring at him. His mouth was down in a slight frown. The young man had heard the tales, the lectures, the lessons… all of it! He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he really didn't care. "I know you'll be busy in the coming days, so just let me go alone. I chose this, so this is my danger."
"And you're still green at this," said Hosea. "You think this is some storybook where you'll come out on top, well, it ain't if you're gonna act like an idiot."
"Hosea's right," said Dutch. "And, as I recall…" He saw Sam was looking away, and walked around to make sure he was right in front of him. "You still owe me a debt for your services. You can't give me that if you die."
"The O'Driscolls are everywhere in New Hanover. They'll continue to harass us if we don't do this, anyway." He lifted his gaze for a second, seeing Arthur and Hosea. God, they both shared the same disapproving stare. "Weren't you gonna rob Seamus' cousin by marriage, anyway? I gave you a path to continue your work. Just let me do my work for once."
"That Seamus is a fool," said Arthur.
"Yeah, which is why it's easy to make money off him."
It seemed Arthur at least got that, because the two were at least able to exchange a smile with each other. Just that made Sam feel a little better.
"Listen, we need to get those O'Driscolls off our backs," said Dutch, "and we need this business for more money."
"But we can't let Sam go alone," said Arthur, "but I ain't in the revenge game, Dutch."
"Then I'll go."
"What?" said Sam. "Won't those O'Driscolls recognize you immediately? You're Dutch van der Linde."
The gang leader just chuckled and put his arm around the young man. "And that is why I can simply just change my appearance. So, I guess that's settled. We'll meet back here tomorrow night."
"Whatever you say," said Hosea.
"Sure," said Arthur. He turned to the old man. "C'mon, let's go rob his cousin."
As he walked off with Hosea, Dutch was dragging Sam toward the cabins.
"By marriage!" Sam added.
The cabin Brandon told them they could stay in was empty for the time being. Actually, it looked like it had been empty for a while. Dust had settled on the surfaces of the furniture and even on the windows a little.
"Well," said Sam. "I've been dirtier…"
Dutch waited outside for a bit. He wanted to think, and Sam had offered to dust a little to make the room a bit cleaner and easier to breathe in. For a thief, at least he practiced cleanliness.
The gang leader took a fresh inhale of his favorite cigar. It then occurred to him that of course a thief would know cleanliness. They had to leave no evidence. On that note, he also thought that even for someone like him, who was notorious in his own gang for his plans, that what he was up to was crazy. Already, there was suspicion, but he was never one for laying back while lackeys did his dirty work, like Colm O'Driscoll.
There was that, and he felt like the only way he could find out the truth about Sam was to earn his trust. He hasn't exactly earned his in return, but he hasn't done anything to jeopardize odds. Shooting a warning shot at Arthur didn't earn him any brownie points, though.
He looked up at the night sky once he heard a clap of thunder. It was cloudy when they first arrived, so he wasn't surprised. Still, it was kind of relaxing, knowing it was going to rain, made his thoughts of who Sam is, and what the only woman he ever loved really was. He would never call her a dirty liar, but if what he thought was true, he feared he would just end up having more questions.
"Help the blind?"
Dutch swore that he didn't see an old man on the premises of Emerald Ranch earlier. He was the same blind man Sam had seen in Valentine. The skies were covered in a sheet of clouds, the wind was picking up. Someone like that, no matter if they were rich or poor, would have thought to seek some sort of shelter by now.
He was curious, and the day wasn't going to get anymore interesting than it already had been. He walked up to old, waving his hand in front of him. Seeing that he didn't flinch at anything told him he really was blind.
"Help a blind man?"
Dutch obliged, despite them needing money. It wasn't much, but he left some change. The old man nodded and then just stared onward for a moment before speaking.
"Lost eyes fall on a guiding star. Be careful where you lead it."
More thunder rumbled through the skies.
Sam was wiping down the table inside when he heard it. His breath hitched and his body began to shake. His fingers began to grip the table tightly.
Crap… he thought.
Sam hadn't taken into account the chance of storms. He'd been staring up the clouds whenever he was outside all day, but didn't think it would actually happen.
Back then, he was usually in Valentine or close to it. Lily and his uncle would always be nearby for him.
But now they weren't...
"Lily…" the young man whispered through panicked breaths.
"Sam?"
The young man flinched like he could jump six feet into the air. He hadn't even realized that Dutch entered the room. He stood still for a second, eyes darting around, when suddenly, he just started running. The older man grabbed his arm and held him back before he made it out the door.
"What on earth do you think you're doing?" he said. Dutch was much stronger than Sam, so it was easy to pull him back.
"Lily!" Sam then yelled. He fell back, but managed to stay standing, by leaning against the table. "I need to get to her!" Once again, he stood, but Dutch was blocking his path forward.
"What are you talking about? She's at camp. She's fine. We have a job to do, remember? Or did you inhale too much dust in here?"
Still, Sam's breathing only got worse. Dutch stepped forward a little, hesitant to reach out a hand to the young man's trembling form. When lightning flashed through the open window, a crackle of thunder followed. Sam's yelp was loud enough that the sound travelled out the open window and echoed. The wind started picking up, bringing a chill, but Sam was sweating, covering his ears, and shaking like he was about to blow away with the wind.
The gang leader was frozen for a moment. Sam had been terrified before, and he'd seen it when he interrogated him, but this was different. This time, he was acting like he was about to die.
And for a moment, as he looked at the young rookie outlaw before him, he saw a young boy, with blue eyes and dark blonde hair who had trembled in fear in the same way...
Dutch looked at Sam carefully, and slowly pieced together what was happening. He closed the window and stormed back to the trembling form before him. Another clap of thunder wasn't helping the situation.
"Shit. Come on, Sam." The outlaw placed his hands on the thief's shoulders.
"Lily…" Sam stuttered. "I need…"
"No, you don't. You just need to calm down," Dutch kept himself stern, but gentle. "Take a deep breath for me, okay?"
Sam nodded. And Dutch let his shoulders go as he heard the rapid breaths begin to slow. He backed away to shut the cabin curtains and then walked back to guide Sam to the bed. The rookie outlaw was suddenly gripping the gang leader like his life depended on it, using him as support as he was lowered onto the bed in a sitting position.
Dutch could see Sam was tense, shaking worsened when the sound of more thunder entered his ears.
"Li… Lily…" he muttered, almost pleading. "Please…"
Dutch had never seen Sam like this. He had been at camp during storms before...
Though Lily was with him when it happened.
Sam was completely spaced out. All he could think about was the storm outside, and his cousin. He needed her, had to see her, had to know she was okay. Suddenly, his body lurched forward upon hearing the rain hammering down, gaining altitude from standing, until a weight on his shoulders pushed him back down, and he choked on a sob. It vaguely reminded him of hands holding him down while he called out for his mother, and all he could hear for a response was the storm.
"No, she's okay…" he heard. He blinked, his vision blurry, until he felt tears flowing down from his eyes and onto his cheeks. Hands were on his, thumbs rubbing the back of them. Slowly they were taken away from his ears. "It's okay, I'm here. Just breathe. Nice and slow."
The sobs slowed eventually, and he registered the presence of someone who was not Lily or his uncle, but Dutch van der Linde, holding his hands, while knelt down before him. He was saying things like "breathe" and "come back to me." Sam still shook as cries quieted down and Dutch saw that Sam was registering his presence as well as remember where exactly he was.
The storm was still pouring down, but Sam seemed better knowing that Dutch wasn't passing any judgement. He stood and sat down next to him on the bed, putting an arm around him.
"Sam, why did you tell me you were afraid of thunderstorms?"
Sam just shrugged and shook even more. "S-Sorry…" he managed to say.
Dutch just sighed. They sat there together, until Sam calmed down. He still shook, but he was still able to make sense of where he was and his objective without fear taking over. Dutch took out a handkerchief and used it to wipe the sweat off of Sam's forehead, and some of the tears.
"You still with me?"
"Yes, sir…" Sam stuttered. "S-Sorry, I-"
"Hush!" Dutch held his hand up and Sam paused his talking. "There's no shame in being afraid of something." Arm still around his shoulder, he moved his hand up and down on his arm. "Lean on me if you have to." Sam accepted his kindness almost immediately. He was too tired to argue at all, not that he was complaining. Usually, people would stare, and after he had gotten scared in front of Archie, he never let him live it down.
Cliff and Lily were the only ones who helped him feel safe when he was like this. What the heck did Dutch think of him now?
They sat there for a while, until Dutch felt the suddenly felt dead weight on him. It looked like Sam had given in to sleep. Perhaps it was for the best. They needed all their energy for tomorrow, and he could only hope he was in shape for it. Once Sam was settled on the bed, Dutch went to go get some sleep, as well. He tried to use the sound of the rain pattering against the roof to relax, and eventually he fell asleep.
"Listen, I know that thing is kinda tough..."
Dutch could smell the waters of the sea near him. There was a harbor. His heart was pounding, his revolvers were in his hands. There was shouting and screaming. He could hear his own voice from the many speeches he had given.
"But we have had it tough before."
This was somehow familiar to him. He remembered marching forth. His gang was behind him. He shot at the police and the Pinkertons. Basically, anyone that was trying to shoot at him.
"We're being tested, but we are gonna overcome these challenges…"
The roads were made of stone. The buildings were tall, reaching towards the night sky. It stormed. Lightning was flashing through the clouds.
"Now, Blackwater… it weren't nothing nice. I know that."
He remembered now, as he ran from the boat. This was where he was. He was in Blackwater.
"But we… We have to push on."
They had the money. Everything seemed fine...
"Even though we walk through hell."
But then they showed up. Before he knew it was raining bullets, John was shot, along with Davey, and they lost track of Jenny, Mac, and Sean.
"But we walk together. We walk together."
The rain was pouring down. He held the weapon and Micah was with him… and somehow he knew who was watching when…
That poor girl...
"Remember that! All of you! Remember that!"
BANG!
Dutch's eyes opened immediately. He wasn't sure if it was thunder or a gunshot, but he sat up regardless. The sun was up, shining through the window. Somehow, he managed to sleep through the he checked for Sam he saw that the bed was empty. It was freshly made, with the pillows arranged and put back where they were, like no one had slept there.
He quickly rushed outside, hoping that Sam, in the state he was in last night, didn't just run off back to camp. Luckily, he hadn't, and was by the barn with Aurora and the Count. Sam was approaching him carefully, hands out and his words slow and gentle.
"There's a good boy…" he soothed. It looked like he had finished brushing him, as well. The Count looked practically spotless. "Feeling better now?" The huff the young man got made him laugh a little. "I'll take that as a yes." Aurora nudged him from behind. "Yes, you'll get a treat, too, Aurora." He turned around and gently placed his hands on Aurora's mane.
Dutch smiled. For a moment, he was reminded of a young Arthur tending to the horses.
"Dutch?"
Sam had stopped what he was doing upon seeing him approach. The gang leader blinked, bringing himself back to the present and saw Sam looking nervous. He then shrugged. "Mornin'."
"Hello, Sam," Dutch said.
"I cleaned up the Count for you," said Sam. "Hope you didn't mind."
"Not at all. I must say, he looks spotless. And he don't normally get along with anyone well."
Sam nodded. "Yeah. Arthur told me about the time he tried to ride the Count once. He only wants you, apparently."
"So, you feeling better?"
"Huh?" Sam turned to him and raised a brow.
"About last night?"
Sam shook his head, and then he just laughed nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about." Before Dutch could say something, Sam handed him a map from his satchel. "This was stuck to the door when I got up. Brandon wants us to meet him there."
Dutch unfolded it and saw the location of Brandon's camp. It was near a place known as Citadel Rock. It was actually near the place where Sam took Jack on their outing, which wasn't far from the gang's camp. It was worrying, but considering that he knew who Dutch and Sam were, it wouldn't be a shock if Brandon knew where the camp was. All they could do was hope that he was serious when he said that he owed someone from the gang a favor.
With nothing else to do, they grabbed a quick snack from their rations for breakfast and mounted up on their horses.
When they got there, they walked into a camp smaller than their own, but it still had a lot going on. There was a campfire with a huge pot for cooking with benches set up around it, a butcher table, and an area with a table for relaxing. The main tent was about the size of the one Dutch had back at camp. It was a lot more cluttered, though. The tables within were filled with papers and loaded guns. There were wanted posters old and new on the back and even around the cot, that was assumed to belong to Brandon, because he was sitting there, reviewing a book. Luckily, none of the wanted posters there had Dutch's face or the others on them.
Rose was with horses by the hitching post and waved at them as they approached. They joined her and she hitched the horses for them while they walked into the camp. The silent girl stayed with the horses in awe at the albino horse before her.
Brandon stepped out from the tent and smiled upon seeing them approach, tossing his book onto the surface of the cot inside.
"There you are! Glad you could make it."
"Yeah," Sam said, flatly. He folded his arms. "I am, as long as you hold up your end of the deal."
The blonde nodded. "Of course." He then looked across from the camp towards the hitching post. "Rose, stop staring at the horse and get over here."
The girl rolled her eyes and stormed her way over to them, as they made their way to the big table at the camp. He laid out a map of the area near them. It showed a map of Valentine with Cumberland forest covering most of it with the place known as Fort Wallace marked on the far north and in the southern corner of the map was the Heartland Oil Fields, where there was a factory of oil that belonged to Leviticus Cornwall.
"So, here's what we've got so far," said Brandon. "My sources have told me that every day, since the O'Driscolls attacked Valentine, a carriage rides from the town into Cumberland forest. Rose scouted out and came back saying the same thing. So, one night we followed the carriage and it led us to a small settlement of houses. Looks abandoned, but there were tons of O'Driscolls and they dragged a man from the cart into the place."
"A new 'recruit,' I gather…" said Sam.
"Probably," said Brandon. He pointed at the forest, where there were some rectangles that represented houses. It was deep in Cumberland Forest, covered by trees and beside a cliff. "People are still missing from town, but if we go there we might be able to recover them, and find Rick Sullivan, the O'Driscoll 'recruiter'."
"So, why do you need us?" said Dutch.
"Because we need more manpower and iron if we're going to do this," said Brandon.
"Well, we can't just march in there without a plan. That'd be suicide."
Rose rolled her eyes, and then batted them at Brandon.
"What?" he said. "I've been in tricky situations before, and I've been fine. Besides, the police will catch up and round up any stragglers once we've got them, so I don't think-" Rose then pinched him on shoulder. "OW! Okay, okay!" The girl backed away with a smirk.
"I say we cause a distraction," Sam said, looking down at the map. "We draw them away from the base enough that one or two of us can slip in and take them by surprise."
"That could work," said Brandon. "But they may have hostages. If something goes wrong, we'll risk putting them in danger."
"Then we get them out first," said Dutch. "Once they're out of harm's way, we can all take them out."
Brandon nodded. "It'll have to do. Mr. van der Linde, we have some spare clothes to disguise yourself with, if you want in the tent. From what I've heard they'll go right after you if they remember your face. Rose, get the horses ready."
The girl nodded and rushed towards the hitching posts. Brandon began to follow her, lighting a cigarette and taking a quick inhale of it and let his breath go upon stopping and turning back to the two men.
"It's best we ride there separately. We don't want to risk arousing suspicion from peering eyes," the blonde said. "Rose and I have something that'll get their attention. You two can sneak in from the back and try to find anyone who looks like they're in trouble. I'll ride in from Valentine and you come in from the east of Cumberland Forest." He locked eyes with Sam. "We get this right, I'll give you your man and make sure he squeals."
Sam's brows pushed closer together, and then he nodded. He frowned a little, his usual slight smirk faded.
"Trust me," said Brandon. His slight smug tone faded. It sounded tired and hurt. "I know all about wanting vengeance…"
Sam stared as Brandon got on his horse and rode away with Rose onto the road.
"Do you think we should-"
"We don't have a choice," said Dutch. "Like I said to Arthur, 'Revenge is luxury we can't afford.' But, if we want these O'Driscolls to stop harassing us, we have no choice. Maybe for once, we may be able to…" Before he walked inside, he craned his neck, turning back to the young man, slightly. "Don't tell Arthur… please."
Sam's mouth dropped open a little. "Understood," he said slowly. He stared back down at the table, viewing the map while Dutch pulled down the flaps of the tent to change.
The young man sat down on one of the seats and waited. If they really did have hostages, things could get ugly. He set his satchel down on the table, took out a throwing knife… and a vial of his poison, before gazing up at the darkening, cloudy sky.
Dutch had taken off his fancy dark coat and grabbed a regular one from the pile that was a tan color. He took off his vest, many rings and stored the golden pocket watch he had in his pocket. When he did that, it just reminded him of the things he had done and wondered what to do about the potential information he learned. Everyone knew who he was, but if Sam really was who he thought it was, if word got out, it would paint a target on his back, as well.
Just like her…
He took off his hat, deciding to wear a different brown one just for this mission. He had an orange flannel handkerchief. He decided not to put it on until they were close to the place they had to ambush. Sam had one, as well. It was gray colored and they agreed on the same idea.
The gang leader sighed when he walked out of the tent, and saw those glittering pearly eyes on the boy again. However, he was staring up at the sky. They were gray, and he finally heard the rumbling in the sky. Already, Sam was trembling, his gaze still fixated on the skies before him.
So, no. Dutch wasn't imagining things. Sam really was terrified of thunderstorms. But, why?
"You okay?" he said. He didn't want to force him to confess this. Something told him he would just try to shield himself if he did.
Sam gasped. He stood up from the table, pulling down a gulp. "Y-Yes. Yeah…" He looked Dutch up and down. If it weren't for his recognizable face, he could almost pass for a normal guy. That's what the handkerchiefs were for, anyway.
They mounted their horses and rode towards Cumberland Forest, going towards the entrance from the eastern side. The rain began to fall, but Sam only seemed phased when lighting flashed in the sky or when thunder rumbled. On the way, they passed by the oil factory. Dutch looked onward at the sight. The building was huge, with big pipes that pointed upward that were releasing polluting smoke. The ground was black with tar and objects and unfortunate small animals who had met a horrible end in it.
The storm was really coming, but Sam was still riding behind him. The younger man was keeping his eyes on Aurora's mane and occasionally looked in front of himself to make sure he was still following the gang leader. The rain pounded the grass and dirt and hoof beats. It made the young man shake.
He remembered when it was dark. When the rain poured down he heard the worried voice of people and the shrill voice of his uncle.
Another flash of lighting, followed by more thunder. His breath hitched again and his hands started shaking, tightly gripping the reins. He heard more hoof beats, and then saw that Dutch was riding back towards him. Aurora had slowed down, as if she knew something was wrong.
"Sam?"
Sam shook his head. He was already embarrassed because of yesterday, but he was so petrified, he couldn't care less of what Dutch thought of him at this point.
"D… Dutch, can we stop?" The young man shivered, his breaths getting heavy. The older man was already getting off his horse and rushing to his side. "I…" The rain fell more and he saw the droplets of rain dropping onto his sleeves like dots. His vision blurred with tears and he swayed the saddle. "I can't do this..."
He then heard a voice through the haze and a pair of hands gripped him, pulling him off the saddle. Sam flailed a bit and then found himself sitting on the ground in Dutch's arms.
"Deep breaths, Sam." Finally Sam was able to register his words. "You can do this. I have every faith in you."
"I… I'm sorry…" Sam whispered, unable to contain his sniffling.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. We…" Dutch swallowed, trying to beat back the still fresh visions of his dreams. He stared at the boy, seeing him trying to sync his breathing with his. "We all have something we're afraid of, but that's nothing to be ashamed of."
Slowly, the nerves dissipated. The fear was still there, but it wasn't unbearable anymore. Sam was tired, and found himself relaxing against the man. He never thought, in all his life, he'd be finding comfort in one of the most well-known outlaws the country had ever known. The rain continued to pour down, but now that he knew he wasn't alone, even without Lily, it didn't seem so scary.
"E… Even you?" Sam looked up. Dutch blinked for a moment, briefly seeing the memory of a young and scared Arthur before him, before returning to the present.
He stared onto the field, seeing the contaminated grounds done by the tar and the clouds that loomed onward into the horizon. As the rain continued to fall, all he could remember right now was the chaos that was Blackwater.
"Yes," Dutch answered honestly. "It's okay to be scared, but it's acting in spite of it that makes someone brave." He suddenly remembered their task, but Sam yelped and gripped his wrist tightly, before he settled back down. "Easy, I'm not leaving you. Do you think you can stand to ride with me?"
"O-On the… C-Count?" Sam stuttered.
"He don't mind it as long as I'm mounted on him, too. Come on."
An arm over his shoulders, Dutch helped Sam to his feet and walked over to the Count. He shook off some of the rain water, before Dutch let go of Sam to climb on. Sam felt a sudden rush of anxiety in his chest, when he let go, but once the gang leader was on, he reached out his hand and Sam got on behind him. He whistled for Aurora to follow them and continued their journey into Cumberland Forest.
The pair approached the small settlement from the east. There was a small house and another building for what looked like storage or something. The thunder had settled down and there was just rain, with the occasional flash in the sky, but as long as Dutch was near, Sam wasn't too scared.
They stopped at a small set of trees and bushes and dismounted. Dutch got out his binoculars and saw that Brandon and Rose were already there in some bushes, as well. Rose had her own pair of binoculars. She spotted them and gave a thumbs up to Brandon. The blonde just held up a hand, telling the two to stay where they were and wait, while he started the distraction.
The small house was being patrolled by O'Driscolls. They guarded the perimeter, and all seemed quiet for now, but they couldn't take any unnecessary risks. If there were hostages in buildings, they had to save them first.
Rose nodded at Brandon, who nodded back. Gun hand, he raised it skyward and fired several shots before letting out a blood curdling scream.
The O'Driscolls patrolling the perimeter were alerted and got out their weapons, heading towards the noise. Rose fired more rounds into the sky and Brandon yelled, but ran deeper into the woods.
Pulling up their bandanas, Dutch and Sam, while keeping their heads low snuck towards the property, their footsteps as quiet as their breaths. The houses were old and falling apart. There weren't even windows anymore. The two came across the back of one of the houses, where they heard a man yelling along with fists coming down and hitting something solid.
Dutch and Sam exchanged worried glances. The window above them was boarded up, but not too well. It didn't take much force to force it apart. Sam peeked in a little, seeing into a small room. There was mostly just some supplies and spare weapons inside. He gave a thumbs up to Dutch and they climbed inside.
Once they were in the doorway to the next room, they could see the front door of the storage house they found themselves in. Three O'Driscolls were beating a middle aged man and making fun of him.
"Kill me!" he yelled. "I'll never join you!"
"I wonder if your wife would say something similar…" one of the gang members said, as he pulled out his knife.
"I wonder if she screams prettier than you?" said another.
"L-Leave her alone!" the prisoner said, before he was met with another swift kick to the ribs.
"Animals…" Dutch hissed under his breath. "There's three of them. We can't get them all without one going in to kill the poor man."
Sam looked down at his satchel. "We can scare them…" he whispered.
Dutch raised a brow at him, but then Sam pulled out a throwing knife that was tipped with poison. He passed it to the gang leader.
"Think you can hit one of them?"
Dutch did his best to contain his laughter. "Gladly." He took the blade, holding it by the tip with such care as to not cut himself. While the O'Driscolls were busy making fun of the poor man, Dutch stood up from his crouching very slightly.
With a flick of the arm, the throwing knife flew through the air. Dutch hid once more as the blade cut into the upper part of one of the O'Driscoll's spine, just below the neck. He let out a gasp, stumbling, while the others just stared, stopping whatever they were doing. The stabbed gang member coughed and the others watched in horror as he coughed up blood, falling to the ground.
Sam shivered as he heard the man gargle on his own blood and he heard the thud. The other two men were yelling hysterically. They ran out from the room, just in time for Sam and Dutch run out and grab them. Dutch slit the man's throat while Sam dragged the other to the wall, holding out the hunting knife right up to his neck.
"Rick Sullivan!" said Sam. "Where is he?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" The man yelled. The prisoner just scooted back to the edge of the room, shaking.
Sam glared. His cold eyes practically beared down into the man's soul. He pressed the blade in just a bit. The man yelped, starting to almost let out his voice and scream.
"Sam!" Dutch yelled, before he could press it in any more. If he screamed, he'd alert the whole place. Sam stopped, but the older man walked up, revolver in hand smacking the man across the face with it. "Now, kind sir. I suggest you please tell my friend what you know, because you clearly do."
"Wh-Who are you people?"
"The ones asking the damn questions!" Sam started to raise his voice. "Where the hell is Rick Sullivan?!" He began to press the blade into neck again, this time breaking skin and drawing blood.
"He's not here! He's not here!" the gang member finally confessed. "Prisoners are taken here before going to place in West Elizabeth!"
"Where?" said Dutch.
"North of Strawberry…" The man whimpered, trembling under the weight of the knife entering his neck. "Little Creek River… P-Please… Let me…"
Dutch just chuckled. "Well, do you want. Your call."
Sam's teeth were out underneath his bandana. His blade shook, anger pouring out. His sights fell on the dead O'Driscoll lying in his blood. None of them were the man, nor the man who could lead him to the man he was looking for. He stepped back and whacked him over the head with the hilt of his knife, knocking the thug out cold.
"Help me!" the prisoner pleaded.
Dutch ran over and cut the poor prisoner's binds. "You'll be alright, good sir." He stood, letting the man sit up. "Stay here and keep your head down until we tell you the coast is clear."
"Please! My wife! They have her in the house with the others!" the man pleaded.
"We'll see what we can do. Mr. H!"
Sam flinched, snapping out from his staring. The two ran outside, back into the rain and towards the other house. The curtains had been pulled down, and it looked a bit bigger, but they could hear crying.
"No! Get away from me!" It sounded like a woman.
"Aw, come on, sweetheart!" said another voice. Stuff was being thrown around and there were a lot of things getting hit and screaming.
"Shit!" Sam hissed.
Dutch got up and just busted down the door with a kick. The O'Driscoll barely had time to flinch before he was shot in the chest. The woman ran towards the door, but Sam closed it and held the woman in his arms.
"Hey, hey!" Sam said. "It's okay! We won't hurt you…" Slowly, she stopped struggling and began to crumple in his arms. The young man knelt down with her and she cried into his arms.
Dutch lowered his gun and walked over to the pair. "Are you alright, miss?"
"We've been here… t-two weeks…" the woman whimpered. "My husband…"
"He's in the storage shed," said Sam. "He's okay." The woman nodded, crying some more, probably relieved. "Is there anyone else here?"
"In the basement…"
Sam took the woman to the shed, while Dutch had a look around the house. He found a handle on the floor of the messy house, among the broken shards of glass and pulled it up. There was a flight of stairs and at the bottom were at least five or six other prisoners. They flinched when they saw Dutch come in. Most of them were bruised and beaten.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'm here to help. Just follow me outside."
Some of the people had trouble standing and had to be helped by other prisoners. Once they made it, Brandon came riding in with Rose behind him, hands on his waist.
"That everyone?" said Brandon.
"The others are in the shed," said Dutch. "Rick unfortunately ain't here. And the other bastards?"
Rose balled up one hand and slid her thumb across her throat.
"I see."
Sam came out dragging the formerly unconscious O'Driscoll. He was awake, but his arms were tied behind his back. When he slowed down, Sam hit him with his gun.
"Doesn't feel so good, does it? Now tell them what you said!"
The O'Driscoll locked eyes with the blond man staring down at him. It looked like he knew who Brandon was, because he rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Aw, hell…"
The police in Valentine showed up just in time. They arrested the man and took the prisoners back to the town. Any O'Driscolls who made it back to the small settlement were rounded up as well. So, the operation was kind of a success.
They thanked Brandon, and Sam actually got a handshake from the leading deputy.
"The sheriff will be happy to hear about this," he said.
Sam smiled a little, but once the officer walked away, he frowned. He didn't expect much from the people who wouldn't get off their asses to find his uncle's killer, let alone leave strangers like Brandon to do their dirty work.
Then there was another clap of thunder. Sam jumped a little, but Dutch was there to put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. Then he laughed, which made Sam shake a little, trying to rip himself from his grip.
"What's so funny?"
"It's been rumbling the whole time," said Dutch. "Surprised you didn't notice until now."
Sam gasped and then his eyes darted downward while he thought to himself. The rain began to fall again, and Brandon approached them while Rose stayed with the horses.
Good job, you two. I'll be sure to let you know once we trace we're ready to strike." Brandon's eyes then narrowed. "But Rick Sullivan and his friends might be aware of us, now that we've taken this place down."
"O'Driscolls on our tails?" said Dutch. "It's nothing new to me."
"I know." Brandon smiled with a shrug and then mounted his horse. Rose got on behind him.. "We'll be in touch, but if you need anything just look for any of our discouraged people. They may be wearing red around their necks like us. Until then…"
Brandon and Rose rode away, and Dutch and Sam decided to let the police handle the rest.
"It's getting late," said Dutch. "Let's just go into town and stay the night there? That sound okay?"
Sam trembled a little, staring up at the rain. "Yeah… okay."
As the two rode off towards Valentine, the deputies from town were just overlooking the scene. They got the reports of what happened. The hostages were safe and heading back home for questioning, before being let go. They kept an eye out for any other O'Driscoll who found the place.
They were also rounding up the bodies, but were puzzled about the one they found in the storage shed.
"What do you think?" one of the deputies.
"Those bounty hunters must have killed him, but the only wound I see is here. He traced his finger over the wound on the dead man's spine. Then he wiped the blood from his finger off the floor. His gaze trailed down to the dead man's face, where blood dripped out from his mouth.
"Poison?"
"Probably… That other guy we took in was scared shitless…"
Dutch and Sam entered the town of Valentine, which was now entering it's later hours. The lights were on inside the buildings, the rain somehow made everything feel more peaceful. Sam focused on the rain and not the thunder, but he was having second thoughts about coming here. People had tried to take Aurora from him. But when they approached the inn, they stopped upon seeing two people approach them. They were wearing red bandanas around their necks like Brandon.
Dutch held out his hand for Sam to stay back. He did and just petted Aurora's mane.
"Can we help you, gentlemen?" he asked, sternly.
"We're with Brandon Marrows. We have information that people have harassed Sam for his horse. So, as thanks for helping him, he sent us to guard them if you plan to stay at the hotel tonight."
Dutch and Sam exchanged glances, even as the young man shivered as more thunder rumbled through the sky. The older man just chuckled. "Well then… I guess we'll take you up on your offer… and you'd better hold up your end, gentlemen."
"Of course we will," said one of the men.
"Yeah, Rose will have our heads if we disobey Brandon," said the other.
Dutch and Sam got a room up stairs and decided to share it to save money. Finally, Dutch could change back into his regular clothes, which he had stowed on his horse in a storage bag. It was getting late, so he decided to do that in the morning.
Sam, however, was struggling to relax. He had been sitting on the bed since they walked into the room. It was the end of the day, and for a newbie he did okay. Arthur and the others were teaching him well, and his restraint earlier was something he could only think he could've learned from either Hosea or Arthur.
"How you holding up?" he said. He patted his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm not leaving."
Sam nodded. He wiped his eyes.
"Hey, it's okay," said Dutch. "Breathe."
Dutch stayed with him, telling him things to calm him down, while Sam steadied his breath.
"I-I'm s-sorry…" he said.
"I already told you-"
"That I tried to lie about my fear…" Sam finished. He rubbed his palms, his left hand coming to grip the palm of his right one. Slowly, he ran his thumb over it, through the creases of his fingerless glove. "Every time something very bad happened to me… it stormed."
Dutch just stared, puzzled. He remembered it was storming when he found him and Lily with Cliff who was dead. Sam was opening up, and he wasn't about to stop him. So, he just patted him on the back, giving him the signal to continue. He shed a few more tears, mumbling for Lily.
"It's okay," Dutch said again. "You're okay and so is she. She's at camp, remember?"
"I… When I lost my mother… I refused to believe she was actually gone," Sam said, still shaking. He stared outside, seeing the rain falling outside. "She only visited once a year, but I wasn't even given a reason, or… nobody told me what happened. None of us knew what happened. So, I went to her favorite places she liked to go, calling her name, and before I knew it, it was dark, and I was all by myself. I wasn't even in the town anymore. S-So, I wandered around for hours in the storm." His left hand raised and he started rubbing his up and down his right arm. His fingers still shook as the rain pattered down. "And then, l-lighting… it struck a tree and fell on me." Sam shuddered at the memory. Dutch just kept looking at him, making sure he knew he was still listening. He probably still remembered the pain and everything vividly. The younger man took his left away for a second to wipe his eyes. "I broke a few ribs and it burned me pretty bad."
And for the first time since Sam arrived at the camp, he moved the glove off his hand temporarily. There, Dutch saw it, and more as he rolled up a sleeve: A burn mark was permanently on his hand and going up his arm. He wouldn't be surprised if there was more on his back. He ran his fingers over it tentatively, somehow he worried it would hurt him, despite the scar being years old.
"This is a burn mark, isn't it?" Dutch asked, softly.
Sam nodded immediately and frantically. He sniffled, and his eyes watered a bit more, and Dutch wiped away.
"It's okay, Sam. I'm here. Nothing's gonna hurt you."
"I'm sorry…"
"There's nothing to be sorry for. You were a child."
"After that, I didn't know how long I was out, but I woke up and my uncle saved me. Lily was there, too. I had never seen Cliff so angry."
Dutch still held Sam's arm. Somehow the way he ran his hand over the scar underneath the sleeve was calming… like somehow his kindness was healing it.
"My guess, he wasn't angry at you," said Dutch.
"Why's that?"
"He was angry at himself for not being able to protect you. Lily said he made a promise to your mother and he almost failed."
Sam made a sound that sounded like a low hum. Maybe he was thinking? "Sometimes, I wonder what she would think of me right now."
Honestly, with what Dutch had found out, he wasn't sure. So unfortunately, he couldn't answer that, but maybe, he could find out something more.
Sam looked to have settled down a bit, but now just seemed sad, reliving his past. The gang leader let go, seeing Sam reaching into his coat.
"She gave me this a long time ago," Sam said, softly, showing him his pocket watch. It was the first time Dutch had been so close to it. He looked closely and saw the engraving. "After she was gone, my uncle wouldn't let me look into her. This is all I have left of her."
And upon opening it, Dutch did everything he could to contain himself from shouting. He was pondering it the past few days, and didn't know what to do if he knew the truth, but now it was in front of him. That pocket watch did belong to him.
The photo inside was Annabelle.
His Annabelle.
This boy was...
Sam closed it again, tucked it away and held himself. He then noticed his boss shaking a little.
"Are you okay?" He was unusually quiet, but it only made sense, given the circumstances.
"Yes, just… long day," said Dutch. "If it's not too much…" He hesitated. Somehow, Sam locking eyes with him was casting doubt, a feeling he hated… especially from his own gang. "Did… your mother ever say anything about your father…?"
"I never even knew his name…" The young man didn't appear to be staring at anything, really. "She would say small things rarely, but the pocket watch is the only thing I have from him. I knew what he did." He shrugged. "I'm okay." His tears had died down. Dutch wasn't sure what to do or say. There was a lump in his throat and it was hard to swallow. "I doubt he would've wanted to see me, anyway…" Sam muttered. The words echoed in his ears.
And that did it. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around the boy. His boy. Sam was shocked, finding himself in the gang leader's arms, head leaning against his shoulder, but he didn't move.
"He would never!" he then snapped. Sam knew it wasn't at him, but it still made his heart jump a little. "Your father would never think that about his son. Of course he would've wanted to see you!"
Sam just blinked, his mind blank a moment before he spoke. "But, how do you know?"
"Because I'm…" There was no way he could just say it… or could even say it? He didn't want to question it right now, or scare the young man before him. All that mattered right now was that his boy was in his arms. "I'm a father, too."
"You… have a child?"
"Not by blood," Dutch's voice softened, "but I raised Arthur and John as if they were my own." He blinked, trying to fight back tears, but it wasn't working. It was strange. His heart was hurting, mind racing with what was now in front of him. "Parents always love their children, no matter what. No matter if we die…" As he stared out the window he saw the rain outside, and his mind flashed back to that hellhole that was Blackwater. "No matter how the world is changing…" His eyes watered, and when he closed them they flowed down the sides of his face. "There's nobody who loves you more in the world than… than…"
Suddenly, Dutch felt Sam's hat slide down his back and onto the bed, and then registered the dead weight on him. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't register that Sam had gone limp in arms. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. He smiled, seeing that he had given into sleep. Slowly, he moved, laying Sam onto the bed, and taking off his boots before placing his feet on, as well.
The gang leader stepped back and wiped his eyes. He thought to get some sleep, as well, but for now he just wanted to read for a bit and calm down, so he walked himself over to one of the chairs in the corner, and just took comfort in knowing his son was safe nearby.
He cracked open his book. He thought he would have more questions once he found out the truth, but right now, he only had one:
Why did Annabelle lie to him?