Struggle, But not Alone

Ch.11

The Morning After

Pov: Arthur Morgan

It was the birds that woke me up before dawn, all while still being tired from the day before. Even so, my insides prodded me to get up from my rest to relieve myself.

Reaching to the small crate by my head and grabbing my hat, knowing that sleep was out of the question now; Placed it square on my head and sat up from the little cot I had. In my tent was another bed set for John. Instead, the sleeping form of Lenny laid on it, snoring up logs.

Giving my hat a tip to my unconscious roommate, l padded hastily out of the tent to find a good spot to do my business. Eventually I settled on a lone tree by a hill and let the liquid out in a steady stream. At least I tried. The feller was acting up this morning.

Come on 'pal,' work with me here.

Finally the dam broke, giving me relief just as the sun was rising in the East. From that morning sky, I could tell it was going to be the start of another eventful day.

And what better way than to start it with some fresh coffee.

Having finished my work, I began the new task. Get the pot ready with boiling water. In minutes it was done, and I found a good sized fire to heat it up; Gathered a couple of rods to hold the pot with the crushed beans in the mix till the water boiled for a good while. The smell combined with the morning air, letting me know it was ready.

Nearby, I took a small unused chair and sat by the little fire as I reached for the container with a rag. It felt nice and warm in my palm. In it, the grounds of the beans swam on the surface of the drink.

Nothing that a little cold water wouldn't fix. Adding some made the pieces fall to the bottom of the container, while still leaving the coffee piping hot.

Without wasting any time, I quickly poured some into the little tin cup I had brought along from dinner. The smell only became stronger as the black gold settled in the mug.

Its heat slipped through the metal sides. Enough to where I felt some of that on the small handle. Being this early in the morning, I cradled it in my hand for myself. Waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Morning already?"

The voice of Uncle entered my ear, I looked to see him along with that other fella. Judea.

Old-timer wasted no time grabbing a chair and cup of his own. Sitting not before he held the tin in front of my face. I couldn't help but wag my head,

"Nothing escapes you, Uncle."

Nothing short of manners.

My hand reached out for the pitcher and gave him some. The boy came to the old man's defense.

"Forgive him, he was up late last night watching the tent. I only took over halfway through."

I nodded in thanks, "That being said, who's watching him now?"

"Sir Williamson. He passed by not too long ago. Mumbled something I couldn't make out."

"Eh? You get used to it. It's nothing personal."

"…What is that by the way? Tea?"

I smiled,

"Your Golden Boy asked the same thing. Nah, it's called coffee. Don't ask me where it's grown. All I know is that someone thought to throw some beans in water and here we are."

The teen only leaned to the pot more, "Beans, you say? May I have some?"

At least one has manners.

"Yes, you may."

He grabbed a cup and held it out as I gave him a decent amount.

"Give it time to cool, and don't mind the kick."

"Alright."

And so there the three of us sat, as we waited for our cups to hit the right temperature. And it wasn't long before the short silence was broken by Uncle.

"So what was that commotion about last night?"

"I'd sit back nice and easy in your seat, Old-timer."

Briefly gave a recount of last night, the confrontation with Joe, meeting with the others from our gang, the switch up, and how we even had coffee at this point.

"This doesn't bode well… Poor Abigail… John said she got away with their boy. You reckon Ross wasn't satisfied?"

I looked back at the fire, thinking about how she looked. Honest to say, I had her before. Much to my shame that I know the woman that my would be brother snagged. All that aside, she looked older now. Abigail did make mention of Jack practicing to fight the man.

"I don't think so. She didn't make it out to be like that. Don't know why she's here."

"It's strange,"

Judeau looked at his hot cup confused as he talked,

"You make it seem bad that she's here. Alive. And yet your people are in a civil war, and it was unknown if she lived."

"Oh?"

I took the risk to drink the brew that moment, embracing the small interrogation. The bitter taste was pure joy, but I held my face with a blank expression. Wondering how long we can keep hiding our real occupations.

Judeau continued on,

"Not only that. But you speak about time in a different manner. Like recent events were days ago, and others say the same ones longer, years even."

He leaned forward in his chair, making sure his voice didn't carry beyond that spot,

"Either you can't keep your stories straight, lying about the whole thing, or there's something you are purposely leaving out."

This kid, he's something else. Had us all figured out.

"I'd tell you now, but we'd be repeating ourselves."

"So you mean you'll tell us when the rest of your men arrive?"

I shook my head,

"I don't mean we'll tell you because we're ready. But moving forward, Dutch may cave in. It would be too much of a hassle if we are planning to work together in the near future."

I took another sip of my drink, Uncle took his first one. Judeau just moved to his previous position and asked, "Is there nothing you can tell me before that?"

"Just that what we'll tell you is beyond simply a war. If we told you anymore, you would call us senile."

Uncle laughed after his sip, "Probably throw all of us in a mental asylum."

My mouth gave a half hearted sigh, "Don't think they have those, probably burn us for being witches."

He only laughed more while pointing at me, "Burn us, he says."

Neither Judeau or I laughed with him. Seeing him being the only one laughing, Uncle stopped as he suddenly understood what was at stake. His fat butt leaped up from his chair, "Come on, Arthur! Quit joking!"

"I ain't."

After looking at me in disbelief for a bit, the old man slouched back down in his seat,

"Oh…"

Judeau looked sympathetic,

"Then it must be serious. So far I can tell in this instance you're being completely truthful."

I smiled as I drank some more,

"I hope so."

Now it was the teen's turn to drink. After a little sniff, he dipped his yap in the warm coffee and took a little in. His face said it all. Too strong.

To his credit, he downed what he took and gritted his teeth at the sharp taste,

"Beans?"

A soft chuckle escaped from me, "If it's too much, you don't have to drink anymore. Nobody would be offended."

"N-no. It's not bad-. Hold on."

The teen set the cup down and ran off around a tent and came with a small jug with a cork. He pulled it off and milk came out of it in his cup, he explained. "Sorry, it felt like it was missing something."

I had heard city folks doing stuff like that. Personally, the only time I added anything was when I had some alcohol.

"No shame. Drink whatever, however you want."

Old-timer raised his mug, "Here here."

In turn, I raised mine along with Judeau and we drank at the same time. The ponytail teen seemed satisfied with his drink, and sat back in his chair,

"Not bad."

I did the same, basking in the ease of the growing light in the camp.

"No. Not bad at all."

Things were quiet.

"Really? You didn't bother waking me up?"

Then they weren't.

The voice of Lenny brought a smile to my face. Turning behind me, I saw the man walking up with a yawn and sagging eyes.

"Lenny. Pull up a chair and get yourself some."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and Lenny? This here is Judeau. Judeau, Lenny."

The Hawks member gave a wave, "Nice to meet you."

"Uh, likewise."

We were quiet as to let the man get situated before the mercenary asked him, "Heard you had a big fight yesterday with your enemies."

Lenny dared to drink his swill piping hot, and tasted very little before stopping himself,

"Hmmm, you could say that. But that giant of yours, Pippin? He was the only one to kill any of them. I just got one they were hunting."

"... How good are they at hiding themselves?"

I gave a gruff response to the lad, "Joe is like any man where we're from. In the woods, he'll cover his tracks, keep fires small to hide their location. Him and all his group has a knack for forging… They know all the tricks."

Using his orange bandana as a holder, Lenny set the cup on a nearby table. He laughed as well, "Good thing we know them too."

"And how do you plan to fight their number?"

"Well… We got the guns."

My friend looked right at me, and I was adamant to agree with him.

"Dutch would have the final say… But I think we'd teach some of you how to use them."

The kid looked eager at the prospect, "Truly?!"

"Yeah. Even with our light reinforcement, it won't be enough to fight them head on. Otherwise we'd have to wait till they slip up. Or us. It makes the most sense."

He took a final sip of his drink before shooting up, "Would you mind showing me? I'd like to see!"

The behavior he showed was unusual, not like the collected teen we had been talking to minutes ago.

"Woah, slow down now. Firing off our guns this early will make for some angry campers."

Judeau grabbed his head, not knowing himself what was happening,

"O-oh, right."

Uncle finished his cup as he answered, "I think the coffee was a bit much for em."

… He makes a good point.

"We'll, he'll get used to it if he ever wants more."

"I know I want some."

Now Sadie came into the picture, fully dressed in her cowgirl outfit. Then that scar across her face became more visible as the light grew. It was a wicked three strikes across her upper lip. To me at least, it didn't affect her ladylike charm. Whatever happened, she was the same girl as ever. Inwards and outwards.

"Sadie! How was your sleep?"

She gave a little snort, "Could have gone better, that girl has more energy than a jaguar cub."

I choked on my drink, but kept it in. Giving myself a few hits on my chest, I asked,

"Now where did you find something like that? Didn't join a circus, did you?"

"No, I found one in South America. Poor creature lost its Mama. It hung with me for a few years. But-... Well, it gave me this cut here when the cat was little."

Mystery solved, a few more on her face left unanswered. But I sat up and introduced her to our Hawks friend.

"Sadie, this Judeau. He's been helping that boy I was tellin you about."

The woman held out a hand to him with a warm smile,

"Nice to meet you, Shug."

The teen didn't hear, it seemed the appearance of our newer gang member had entranced him. So much so that he had a little red under his cheeks. I sucked in any laughter I would have given anyone having a crush on the widow. No shame. If I was in my prime, I probably would've felt the same thing.

….Really?

I questioned myself for less than a second before I gave the kid a nudge. Enough so to get him out of his stupor.

Judeau gave a quick bow,

"How do you do?"

Sadie gave a knowing smile, and she took no offense to his reaction. Maybe taking it as a compliment?

"Doing well, thank you for asking."

"Umm…"

I butted in to save the awe stricken teen from further embarrassment,

"Now that we have a decent amount of people up and about, how bout we get ourselves breakfast?"

XXXXXXX

An hour had passed since then, and the camp was more lively. People cleaning themselves off, others having meals, and some practicing with swords. Not even our camp was ever this lively. Neither did it ever have this many people. Guess it came down to the trade.

Also at this time, our little breakfast gang had just finished up our meal. All of us told Judeau some of the strange encounters we had out West. For me, I told him about the time I came across a man who was a researcher asking about carvings, and the next time I saw him…

"... I still don't know if I was played for a fool, or I dreamt of it."

"So-. He was a baby?"

I looked at Lenny while shaking my head, "I still can't figure that out… One minute I was looking at rocks for him-…"

I really gave up trying to say anything about it, it just popped in my mind.

Judeau looked interested in the tale, "Did you try looking into it again? The rocks I mean."

I shook my head, "Didn't see any point."

Uncle didn't seem convinced while scratching his belly, "Man turning into a baby? Is that all you got for a scary story?"

Felt my eyes roll, "Wasn't trying too."

"Well I could come up with a better one. Even John could, I'm sure."

…Alright then.

"How about a vampire?"

What happened next caught me completely unawares. People at other tables, folks walking by, and the members of my gang looked at me in fear or awe at the mention of such a creature.

Judeau was the first to ask by jumping up from his spot while placing his hands on the table, "Are you serious?!"

"Well. Yeah!… He looked the part, acted the part. And I found it drinking the blood of his latest victim."

Soon the table started to be cluttered with people around it, wanting to hear what happened. And one such person was clueless as to what was going on. Corkus.

"What's going on? Can't a man find a place to eat?"

Another spoke up behind me, "Shut it, Corkus! This guy said he fought a vampire!"

He laughed, "Vampire?! What nonsense! And where was this? In your mystical country?"

"Yeah, in a city called Saint Denis. He had killed five others up to that point, so the papers say."

Uncle looked to be in thought and jumped at the realization, "I remember that! Or at least the murders. After the sixth… it just stopped. Nobody ever found him."

Really? Figured someone would find the body in that alley.

"Well, he was a crazy feller, had pointed ears, and pale skin. He was sinking his teeth into a man…"

XXXXXXXX

I recounted the encounter with the gruesome details. His skin was pale, ears pointed, and eyes red as blood. Matching the same liquid dripping from its mouth. Its fingers were long and pointed by the nails on them. He brought one set of them to caress the back of his bare scalp,

"So…You found me!"

A laugh escaped as he spoke.

At the time, I didn't know what led me to that spot. Seeing it before me I knew I had to do something. The worst decision I made was to get his attention.

"Hey, what are you doin?"

At full height, his main features was creepier than appeared. More still, I remembered his words.

"Stay back, for your own sake! For I walk with the Undead!"

Scoffing, I responded,

"What, you're a vampire?"

"I have been called many names over the centuries. Now go, or I'll feed on you too!"

XXXXXXXXX

Judeau looked in amazement,

"What did you do then?"

Others waited with him to hear. Eagerly waiting to hear a splendor tale of me running to find silver or garlic to ward him off. I smiled,

"I beat his ass. With my fists."

Many faces looked disappointed by the answer, showing the same skepticism Corkus had. Said Ugly started mocking the tale with a snide grin, "Stupid. A creature like that wouldn't be beaten by fists alone. Do you have any proof of the kill?"

A light went on in my head, and I reached into my satchel. Taking an Ornate dagger out swiftly to stab the table.

"The feller was wielding this thing."

The Band's eyes brightened at the sight of it. It was an unusual blade that looked more fitting in their world, and on the blade was an image of a snake wrapped around thorns or a jagged tree.

Corkus also appeared to have gone silent and looked entranced by the small thing.

"Is that silver?"

Hmm?

I pulled the blade up and looked at the weapon. Having seen shiny metal plenty of times, I noticed for the first time that the blade definitely was. For being a conniving grunt, he knew treasure.

"I suppose it is."

"Is there anything else you're keeping in that satchel I don't know about?!"

It was Dutch, I sat up from the table to see him standing a ways off in his re-created outfit next to the Hawks' leader. The only difference was the Gray hairs and a shorter mustache.

Visibly I could see he wasn't mad, just poking at me.

Well I poked back,

"Maybe, but they're mine to keep."

He sighed while rubbing his neck,

"I swear, I should have kept better tabs on you outside of camp."

With his words, the sound of a motor car came to ear. Everyone not from America looked around confused by the noise, where as us gunslingers smiled at the arrival of the others.

Van Der Linde patted the back of Griffith firmly, "Come and see the horseless carriage, everyone!"

The teen didn't look too thrilled by our refounded boss's attitude towards him, or the direct command over his forces. Though he did look to have brushed it off quickly.

Many took the offer whether he asked or not, many left their tents to see the noise that was slowly growing.

As for me, I went with my people to the perimeter to see the giant vehicle arrive. Words now visible again for his "Ammunation."

The window showed who was driving. Pearson, with Sean next to him looking like he was going to hurl.

"It's a beast!"

A lad next to me yelled out, followed by more whispers and some rushing to arm themselves with swords and axes.

Like it would do any good.

Dutch rushed up to wave him down and the ride stopped next to a familiar looking tree (The Pee Tree.) As quickly did it stop, Sean rushed out of the ride to land on his knees and hands, letting his stomach release his breakfast. The only one to comfort him was Lenny by patting his back, while giving a snide remark.

Pearson whipped himself out of his spot and climbed out to see Dutch, "You look alot better!"

Linde grabbed the sides of his vest while looking at it.

"I'll say! Why did you have a thing like that?"

I wanted to know too, "And my hat! Looks just like my old one."

"Yeah? And one for me?"

John entered the picture with my hat on his head, or his hat. He had a pair made?

The skinny man held his hands up while pointing behind us, "I can tell you another time, but I think you have a situation?"

Turning my head, I could see that the only ones not with us were the Hawks. That tan girl from before now stood amongst the crowd, fully armoured and looked at us with contempt. Pippin stood by her, showing no emotion.

The armed men standing by them looked at the machine with either wonder or fear.

Some of that fear shifted when four of their own exited the back. Some of them looked queasy, holding their stomachs, but held it in better than the Irishman. They waved to the group showing that it was alright. Behind them came Rickert holding on to that store book, and Abigail holding onto his shoulder in a protective way to have him wait.

After seeing some of their crew, the natives came near to the wagon at a brisk walk. Still keeping some distance from the ride, and rumors now heard.

"Witchcraft!"

"Devil's work I'd say."

Before anything could be answered, Dutch raised his hands towards the crowd, "Now look, I know you probably have many things going through your mind! 'What is this thing?' or 'They are Devils.' I just want to assure you that it is a minute concern. No way shape or form have we contacted anything like that. If you'd like, now that everyone is here, we can start a real heart to heart talk. And it's a hard one at that."

The last sentence was directed at John, and I. Both of us tipped our hats to his intentions.

With a tip of his own, Dutch Van Der Linde began with everything up to this point.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was an hour later, everyone had grabbed a chair or sat on the ground, leaving a few to stand up. Listening intently to Dutch's explanation.

Sonia showed up a few minutes in and quickly asked questions to me as Dutch described everything. In a hushed voice I did answer what I could. After she caught up she went over to a smiling Sadie who looked less than thrilled. Then the moment arrived.

"My people have all tasted death. And we don't even know why we are here. This is not the land, or the world we died in…"

Many in the crowd didn't know how to react at first. Sitting for hours listening could do that. But someone eventually figured to laugh out loud, and soon others did.

Corkus, the ugly thug, was the chief of them, "Zombies? Really?! First Vampires, and now you tell me you all died?!"

Some unnamed mercenary added,

"And another world! You can't forget that!"

It continued for a minute before our boss continued,

"Is it so far-fetched?! Look at our clothes, our weapons, our speech?! Have any of you seen or heard of this before? Ever a murmur?"

His hand pointed at the metal wagon,

"Look at the carriage with no horse! You compared it to witchcraft, and yet you see coming back from death as too little?!

"Now. We don't know why we're here, we don't know how it happened. None of us may ever know. But I know when I died, it was the year 1911 in our world. John?"

"The same."

"Abigail?"

"...1914."

"Arthur?"

"1899."

"Pearson?"

"..."

He didn't answer. As a matter of fact, he looked away. It was a simple question, and I was sure he'd be one quick to answer. Yet he didn't. Dutch took note of his hesitance and looked at the man concerned,

"Pearson?"

He still didn't answer. Making me almost afraid to know the answer.

Dutch tried to go forward,

"Well, uh. Point being…"

A man asked in disbelief,

"What's it like then?!"

"What-?"

"Dying! You said you died!"

Soon, others asked the same as the man, and it looked like we wouldn't get anywhere without saying so.

Hadn't thought about that much…

Waking up in the woods, fighting a battle or two, and running around makes you forget things like that.

I couldn't help but remember that mountain top. How helpless I felt, but sure that John made it.

With enough willpower, I gritted enough strength over the memory, "Regret."

Lenny sighed, "A breath of air."

John followed suit, "Slow."

Javier shook his head as he sat up, "Like lightning."

The man looked about as upset as me when I answered. He sat up from his spot and passed by the crowd into the camp. Leaving us to guess where or was going or what he was doing.

Sean gave his experience with a smile, "A mind blowing experience."

Quicker than I knew I started laying into the fool as i walked up to him,

"Don't say it like that!"

"What?"

"Your head was blown off!"

"Well, yeah. But I'm sure it wasn't that bad-."

I pressed a finger on his forehead, making him stagger back a bit. A little water ran across my vision as I mustered up my voice to hold back my anger,

"Right through your head, Boy. I found pieces on me later. I-..."

Pointless, it was pointless to get worked up. Sean didn't deserve that. Also, that was the last thing I shouldn't have done in front of the Hawks.

I backed off and sat back down to my spot, now with more eyes on me than I would like. The Irishman looked down, not saying anything.

The shame from my actions became overshadowed as the loud booming voice of Bill called out far in the camp, "Powerless!"

Williamson strolled through the audience with his rifle cradled in his arms, "You think you have what it takes, and Death grabs you by the hair on your head!"

As he finished his account, the former soldier gave a thumbs up to me. After a moment, I figured what he was signaling,

Guess Javier took over watching Guts…

Bill then took his place by Dutch, eyeing up the new apparel with a nod of approval. Linde returned the same gesture and continued, "You can ask us later how we died if you wish… But I can't say for certain any of us will be as forthcoming as Mr. MacGuire was."

Sean looked down, being a little embarrassed. But I only spared a glance to see that.

Meanwhile, Dutch's thick mustache bristled as he made his way further into the crowd, "Are we Nobles? I'll leave that to you. Are we undead? Crazy? Demonic? I say no, that much is certain to me. We bleed, we can die still!… Those we fought last night proved that fact."

His walk held direction, as he stopped a couple yards away from the silver haired leader. Being on the same level, looking right at him. Griffith smiled as he came to the conclusion Dutch was leading too.

"No matter the answer, this does little to change anything. You're still the same men we allied with last night, and you're just as level headed. But I don't think I can believe everything you have told us just yet."

Captain Griffith walked forward till they were but a couple feet apart,

"It doesn't matter what I would think. Most of us have seen what you can do, and we would be foolish to restrain you."

That last line was directed at everyone of the men still holding onto any misgivings. It was well received by "the many," letting go of the anger that was seen on them.

This somewhat impressed me. Griffith had a great pull on their minds to see reason, only problem was reasons don't last forever. Dutch proved that before he came back to his senses.

Speaking of the dressed up outlaw, he finished our introduction, "Well, now that the cat is out of the bag, how about we let some of the newcomers get settled in?"

The teen smiled with his eyes closed in satisfaction and arms folded,

"Would be for the best."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Just as fast as the day began, the day came to a close.

The decision came to have a small portion of the camp to house the women (not just our own) and our precious supplies.

Other than that, nothing in particular was made in the motion of progress.

Griffith left soon after the meeting was finished, stating he needed to meet with some associates for the "Next Step" of the conflict. He didn't say anything about what that step was and took some of the horsemen with him. Pippin and Corkus included.

John spent considerably more time with Abigail, and rightly so. And in turn, his wife acted peculiarly kinder than when I knew her. Even seemed eager to help in the camp too, asking where she could best help.

Mrs. Adler spent her time sharpening her knife and cleaning her guns. Rickert was close by, wanting to see how the firearms worked in person rather than paper. Sonia was there for a little time, quickly finding it to be a little boring.

Bill and Javier patrolled the perimeter of the camp at different turns. Neither of them seemed to be in a talking mood when I saw them pass by now and then. Later on, the excitable little lady came to pester them.

Sean… He started keeping his distance from me. Probably will for an amount of time undetermined. Sure, I feel bad about my outburst. But even knowing the fact he died, he still seemed to not have learned anything!... I don't hate him…

Lenny? He's still the same. Only now he's been talking more and more with the mercenaries, and showing them his skill with cards. Apparently, despite being from different worlds, we still share some traits. Similar games, similar speech? I can't help but imagine if we came across everyone speaking German.

Uncle stood guard outside the tent with Judeau, and a competition was born between the two. Each one of them tried to outdo the other with carving and whittling into some big sticks, making some figurines.

Casca, as proud as the girl seemed, obeyed her leader and laid next to Guts again tonight. She may not know it, but I'm grateful for her service to him. I only hope to find a way to pay her back. Speaking of Guts, he is still on the edge of death. The cold night could be his tipping point. Will it be days? Weeks?

As for me, I sit here by the tent entrance to the boy, writing in my journal. Figured I'd write out everything that's happened and then some. Dutch came by later on and saw me writing, and asked if I had a spare notebook. I did, and gave him something to write with.

Seems I wasn't the only one wanting to get some thoughts out of the old noggin.

Waiting is all I can do now, but I at least have some good company.

-Arthur Morgan

XXXXXXX

End Chapter

A/N: Happy Belated Holidays.

I hope to at least finish up this part of the story by next year.

God be with you.