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Chapter 20

"For all your schemes, Arthur, this is far from the best one." Charles commented in half amusement, half exasperation.

"Quiet before you blow our cover, Charles," Arthur said to the man who merely rolled his eyes.

Arthur looked down at the over-fitted outfit. Quite frankly, he'd agreed with the dark-skinned man, but Arthur was trying his best here. This ain't within his skill range. This scheme was barely cooked up when it became clear that infiltration wasn't in the cards.

Another result of one change in the past that resulted in everything being different.

The old him would have preferred coming in hard and coming in hot, but it was just not in the cards Even if he was still the same man as he was then, he would have to admit that. He'd grown much. He was forced into brutal situations plenty of times.

They were able to take the outfits from the dead men however and covered themselves up. Patrols of bounty hunters were still searching for any signs of the gang members. The three men stayed together. The few back here were unimportant. It was rescuing Sean that was important.

Before they killed the Irish gunslinger!

The plan involved them "borrowing" the bounty hunters' horses, too. They've got four horses as well. Ardennes, Dutch Warmblood, Hungarian Half-breeds, and Mustangs. It was a gamble that they were taking now. The possibility of detection was very, very real.

Nevertheless, they had to try. Kieran climbed on a Mustang, patting the side calmly for a moment of extra show of care. Arthur climbed on a Hungarian Half-breed, and Charles on an Ardennes.

The bounty hunters, especially ones working for the government, were oblivious. As far as they were concerned, a few lost horses weren't as important as imprisoning a gunslinger like Sean who participated in the mess at Blackwater and getting their paychecks.

Arthur and Charles loaded up, making sure that each of their weapons was full. This was going to be a tight operation regardless of how it ended.

And then they were traveling down, urging the horses into a canter. Moving down the trail, it took a lot of patience within him not to pull the trigger. The horses moved at almost an average rate, not too fast but a little slow for Arthur's liking. He sped up.

They take the same trail that Arthur ventured the first time around, descending to the river and then moving through the cliffs, though this time there wasn't a battle. There were no men, no guns being pulled, no Sean. Nothing! Goddamn it! He took deep breaths to keep himself from losing his temper, remembering that not everything was lost.

As they traveled by Fort Riggs, they slowed to a stop. Arthur pulled down his hat which was starting to slip up, and his hands pushed up his coat on instinct alone. There was a small water tower evident, and some half-burning if anything else. They still weren't halted, aren't questioned. There was no sound of gunshots. Maybe, they could get in. Maybe, everything was going in his favor. Of course, the past had to play further tricks with him.

"This may have not been a good idea, Arthur," Charles commented unhelpfully. "We might have to head back."

And then, Arthur saw it.

The place was completely vacant like nothing had ever been heard. No supplies. No people. Just, nothing, and that filled him with shivers.

The angry red haze was back in full glory. Goddamn it! He must have failed at something else. What sort of cruel gamble was this?! Why ain't nothing going in his goddamn favor?! Why did it seem like the card was stacked against him by fate itself?!

No, he had to calm down. He had to believe that something could be saved, that Sean wasn't killed earlier because of his presence! And if he was, he would have to mourn and move on, endure another long, painful speech from Dutch, 'bout oh how much of a tragedy this situation was, that they would all have to be strong, that he would have to be strong.

He pulled tightly on the reins, but mainly to just flex his fists, taking in breaths to help himself with the effort. The random moods weren't good for the health as Hosea put it, and stress could kill him quicker than TB at this point.

And then a loud horn perked the three men's attention. Once, twice. They recognized the sound of the wheels of a train.

Arthur was the first one who cried out "Come on!"

The two others followed that order without debate, moving in the direction of the noise. Another horn caused them to kick at their horses faster, not even caring about infiltration. They were relocating Sean up West, but surely-

Clouds of dirt and dust kicked up. This time the horses moved swiftly, their ears perked, eyes attentive, forms moving quicker and quicker through the grass, at last through some rocks, another bunch of trees, and finally banking hard through a small hole that would have led them to the bottom. The horses landed perfectly with Kieran almost falling inside, pulling at the horse's neck to make sure that didn't happen, and lingering behind.

At last, he saw a glint. Suddenly, it became a race against time itself.

They swerved around thorns, launched over woods, and transversed through water throughout Riggs Station.

The more movements, and guidance, led them to follow behind the train, which skidded to a stop.

"Alright, we're going to have to wait."

The train was present, at the station, just right there, a few seconds away. The men were loading the last of their equipment hastily.

They were standing there, oblivious to the threats. A good amount of the bounty hunters pushed back and away, returning to their horses, as the train began to accelerate, leaving the station and slowly gaining speed.

They followed in track for a few moments before Arthur nodded at Charles and his direction. The signal to open fire. The three grabbed their repeaters and fired in their direction.

Numbers of them fell, caught off-guard, surprised... and betrayed? Well, that was what they thought at first. Each of their shots was on point, shooting the bastards off of their horses. There were shouts of surprise. They attempted to bank back, to prevent the accelerating men from gaining ground. But it was too late. All of them fell in mere seconds, staggering off of their horses which ran astray.

They pulled on the reins harder as the train got faster and faster. The three didn't dare holster their weapons, keeping their guns leveled at the advancing men. Plenty of shots came too close.

They had to bank right and left. Arthur and John have done this dozens of times-Charles to an even a less degree! The two moved with their combined strategy, while Kieran was forced to stay behind because he simply wasn't ever in this type of gunfire. Being the lowest O'Driscoll meant that Kieran likely didn't assist in robberies and shootouts much.

"Come on, boy!" He barked, staying in front, wanting to make sure Kieran didn't get shot.

Arthur took a precious aim, taking down as many of them as possible. The stragglers broke off, either picked off by Charles, and - to his amazement - Kieran.

"You first, Charles!"

Charles swung around to the flatbed carriage with Arthur and Kieran following.

"This is suicide!" Kieran couldn't help himself. Arthur agreed. It was! But it was also necessary.

Arthur released the reins, wanting to line this up right.

"Boy, come on! Now!" he urged.

He watched as the horse banked, and gritted his teeth as he began preparing before at last jumping, and grunting as the air rippled through his entire body. Breath was stolen from him, his cheeks momentarily turning a darker color as he finally crashed behind the crates. He groaned, breathing when he noticed some of them were training their weapons in his direction, walking slowly. In a singular moment, Arthur pinned all of his targets with his deadshot and fired, dropping them quickly.

Kieran broke off. Arthur didn't blame him. It was too risky, and he was new at this. A few of the bounty hunters chased after him, but he fired, catching a good few of them. He would be alright, he tried to convince himself.

More and more bodies collapsed onto the ground under the might of Arthur and Charles, the latter's shotgun blowing them away.

"Sean!" Arthur shouted over the shooting, continuing to fire along with his two allies. One crate after another, and another again!

"Sean!" he shouted again, now throwing his repeater to the ground and adding with frustration. "Answer me, you little shit!"

"ARTHUR!" someone shouted, but it sounded desperate. Terrified. They rushed in the direction.

Somewhat along the way, Arthur swapped his repeater for his Schofield, choking back a breath that he didn't even recognize was there.

"You come any closer, I'll cut his goddamn throat!" They peered around the carnage, through a few more crates, until they found him finally...

Sean...

Arthur was stolen by him for a long moment. He was the little brother that Arthur never knew he needed 'till he was gone, talked big around him and John, and he'd just wanted to have a good time and enjoy being the goofy little shit.

His heart ached.

Arthur found him obnoxious, but he cared about him. Arthur was truly upset about Sean's death, but at the same time-he was used to it. His whole life has been hell and he's seen so much death in the gang and elsewhere. He knew he had to carry on. The truth of the matter was he was reluctant to get close to Sean because he didn't want to get burned like he was with John.

The image of his brain being shot out, exploding from within his head, would always be in Arthur's mind. He would never stop living that moment. It hurt even more than having TB. He was supposed to protect Sean.

Even... even if Sean sided with Dutch instead of Arthur in Beaver Hollow, he would have rather had him alive for another few years. He knew that Sean's betrayal would have hurt if it happened, just like Javier, but he ain't ever going to allow either of the men to die.

Behind him, a man held a pistol to his head, clearly pushed to do so.

Arthur recognized him.

Ike Skelding.

The man was intimidating. Arthur could barely see him, but the two long gashes across his face stretched in clear anger.

Goddamn it, he couldn't get a clear shot. It would be too close to call. It was obvious that he was going to pull that trigger.

"You're each coming with me!" Skelding exclaimed with insane laughter. "They would pay highly for Dutch van der Linde's boys!"

Arthur searched for something, anything, to get that gun away from the Irish's head.

He buried his gun even deeper. "Put your hands up and put down your guns or I'll shoot him!" he swore.

Sean smiled. Even being seconds away from death didn't deter his chipper attitude.

"Nice to see you again, King Arthur!" Sean shouted humorously, trying to find amusement in this situation. "Knew ya would come for me! Yer ought to give me a hug!" he added sarcastically. "A warm embrace for a brother, once lost, now found?"

Arthur almost managed a smile. Months ago, he'd never thought Sean would have been gone. Now, that light was back into his life, everything felt alright right then and there.

"Shut up!" the bounty hunter barked.

A shadow moved from Arthur's peripheral vision, unseen to Ikelding. He only resisted the urge to stare in his direction, for Skelding was keeping an insane eye on him, not turning the opposite side. One sudden movement and Sean's brain would be splattered on the floor.

"Y'a ain't getting with nothing! Y'a a dead man now!" Sean swore.

Ikedling grumbled about how he "known he should have gagged him" and looked instead at Arthur who kept his eyes forward. He added, "Your friend here is irritating. I don't know how you put up with him."

"I often ask myself the same thing," Arthur spoke matter-of-factly, stealing a glance in his direction, having caught on that he wasn't spotted yet either.

"Should have left him to rot! Now, ain't nothing awaits you aside prison!" Skelding declared madly.

"Let him go," Arthur commanded, seeing the shadow getting closer and closer if his vision wasn't deceiving him.

The shadow peered closer.

A mad grin fell on his lips, allowing the scars to stretch even further... "Oh, oh, that would be too easy. I-"

The shadow revealed itself behind the crates, firing.

A bullet traveled through the air, a shot of red, and...

A grunt of pain filled the air. At the same time, Arthur snapped up his weapon, firing at the same time, catching the target...

The man fell, with his victim...