Chapter III: Solemnity

"Hup!"

Splash!

Arthur and I worked tirelessly to haul every one of the bodies to the river, throwing them into the bank and watching them drift down the stream. I wasn't sure how to feel about it, but one thing I didn't feel…

Was guilt.

Fuck them O'Driscolls. They were the physical tuberculosis of this land I'd lived in for the past two years. Every single one of them dead…

Was one less cancer that was killing this land.

"Alright, boah," Arthur began, dusting his hands in a comical fashion. "Now since that's done, it's about time you showed me that stash of yers."

I nodded silently, still disturbed by the events that had just transpired. After this fight, I realized quickly that I was no hardened gunslinger- The number of times I had played with death in those few minutes was far more terrifying to me now, after I had survived it all. I walked over silently towards my hideout, finding the small, marked grave that sat tucked into the corner of the abode. 'Levi' was scratched onto the stick that stuck into the ground. Mind you, I had made this grave right after the death of my parents; I was very much suicidal and entrenched in morbid humor at the time.

"Wussat?" Arthur mumbled, mixing three words into one hodge-podge of word-fuckery. I sighed and began digging into the grave with my hands, eventually unearthing a small metal lockbox. I pulled it out of the dirt, dusting it off and opening it up. Inside were several dollars, along with a few pieces of jewelry- The ill-gained spoils of my recent thievery.

"Wooow," Arthur said with a partly-impressed, partly-mocking tone. "Yer a regular Rockefeller, ain't ya?"

I was greatly irked by Arthur's antagonistic response. He seemed to enjoy the misery of others in an unnatural way.

"The comments for this… transaction… aren't necessary, Mister Morgan," I said to him in irritation, turning back to take out the cash and counting it out. If I needed to, I'd make up the difference with one of the less expensive jewelry accessories-

"Got the entire family treasury in one box!"

I released a loud sigh of frustration- Why did God create this man to be this way?

Huffing, I stood up and shoved the wad of cash in Arthur's face; He took it with a slight grin, straightening the ruffled cash out and counting it with his thumb. I sighed, looking back at the meager lockbox which had contained all of my financial gain- Now in a pitiful state. I didn't even know anyone who could fence jewelry, so I was basically broke now.

I almost wanted to laugh aloud- was this how the virtuous Thomas Downes had been brought to ruin?

"Yer two dollars short, boah."

My fist tightened, then quickly loosened. There was no reason to get angry at this man. If it wasn't for him, I likely wouldn't have had anything to return to.

"Okay."

I turned back to the lockbox, taking out the few bills I had left, removing two, and handing them to Arthur. He eyed them for a moment, seemingly looking between the bills and my 'stash', then took them quietly, nodding respectfully to me.

"Thank you kindly, boah."

And that seemed to be the end of our interaction. He stood there for a few moments, eyeing me as I closed up the lockbox, buried it in the ground, and took a look at the disheveled state of my place. Bullet holes had torn through the sheets and linen I had used to pitch a covering for my roof, and many of the small ornaments and furniture I had fit into the hideout was also shot to hell.

I sighed deeply- This is what rock bottom felt like. I had lost all my money, practically most of my home, and I had just committed a mortal sin only minutes ago.

This was shit.

In begrudging, grim silence, I went to sit on the dilapidated mattress tucked into the side of the hideout, staring at the ground in pondering of what I would do next.

…

…

…

…

…

….

…

…..

"Say, boah, you got a family?"

(Music: "Insane", by Shawn James)

"Wh…"

I was not amused by that question. I stayed silent as I continued staring at the ground, now in a foul mood. Arthur seemed to sense the change in mood, and made some begrudging cowboy noises.

"Ah, shit… alright, alright, quit moping, you soft wussy."

He sighed, taking an idle glance around the place.

"Well, seein' as where you are right now…" He continued.

The ruffian loanshark huffed a great deal, his hands firmly placed on his hips.

"...Ah, hell. Look, I'm just sayin', I may… know a gang that could use yer talents, boah."

I brought my head up towards Arthur, wide-eyed.

"Wh… huh?"

I was a bit confused now. Initially, I had thought Arthur to be a lender from a state agency, despite his menacing demeanor and inclination towards slaughter so easily. Though, I probably should have considered him a gangster first and foremost. It wasn't as if this entire county was run by the O'Driscolls, after all.

"What do you… mean, mister Delaney?"

Arthur seemed to huff more heavily than all the other huffs combined, waving his hand violently as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with frustration.

"Ahhhh… the hell am I gonna do here?..."

…

…

…

After a few moments of silent consideration, Arthur eventually brought up his head in modest decisiveness, planting his hands on his hips once more. For a moment, I admired his attire; The worn, black scout hat, his blue jacket with a cotton in-lining, his dirtied spur boots- All of it practically screamed frontiersman. I had no doubt that he was a hunter, carpenter, settler, and cattle rancher as much as he was a killer.

"...My last name ain't Delaney, boah. It's… Morgan."

He seemed to hesitate in telling me this about him, as if there was going to be some great catastrophe once I knew of it. In reality, I sat there scratching my cheek as I thought about what I'd have for lunch, and also what Mister Morgan here was trying to get to. Seeing my lack of response, he sighed in irritation.

"Alright, I ain't beatin' around the bush anymore. You wanna join a gang, boah?"

I understood fully now what the situation was- and my resentment towards Thomas Downes grew that much more. Had the 'honorable' Downes really borrowed from a fucking gang of outlaws?

If it was just his own self to worry about, perhaps I would have been a bit more sympathetic to his terrible, irresponsible decisions. But it was not just him that was impacted by these consequences! He still had Miss Edith and Little Archie to worry about! Because of his damn stupid decisions, he had endangered his-...

…

…

Family.

…

…

"Alright, then."

Arthur peered at me curiously when I answered, as if having expected a boatload of questions to be asked about his proposition. I simply had lost interest in the world momentarily... It felt as if a light had been snuffed out in me at that moment.

I felt I could embrace any role I wanted. Like I was invincible against social norms and moral dilemmas. Like I could run into a bar, shoot everyone there dead, and leave without a single trace of remorse for those I had slaughtered.

It was a terrible feeling, and yet a sensational one. That I had free reign over my own free will so suddenly… It was…

Numbing.

Because I had fully begun to realize…

That I no longer had a family of my own to protect.

My loved ones were… dead.

I was… alone in this world.