Good news and bad news, kids. The good news is that I graduated from the Academy! Officially certified through the State of Tennessee Peace Officer Standards Training program. My first watch began on 11-11-19 at 1345. The bad news is that, while arranging notes for the academy during the twelve week process, chapters 13, 14, and what progress I had made on this chapter went up like a meth cook's single wide trailer. I've also seriously considered some revisions. This isn't a multi cross, but I threw in a few too many characters from other genres just for some fan service. Now that I've had time to go over my work, I'll probably be removing most of those characters in favor of some created ones. Still, the overall plot will remain the same. I just have to come up with some believable OC.
Chapter 15
As the sun began to rise up from the trees, Sam was glad that the masks the White Fang had started handing out came with a visor. The path from the main road faced east, and the young Faunus found himself staring directly into the morning sun. Not how he had planned on spending the week, but Supreme Leader Khan was counting on him to stand guard. At least, that had been the reason at first. All too late did Sam realize that guard duty was for schmucks.
Defend us from those that would see us harmed, my ass. Sam thought with a grumble. Hidden in the relative shade of a gnarled tree, the young deer Faunus had a good view of the path through the jungle without being too exposed. The only problem was the view consisted of trees, trees, and a surprising amount of trees. Even Grimm were scarce in the area, though the White Fang's presence had drawn a few Creeps and a King Taijitu. Marcus and the more seasoned members had taken the snake down with little issue, but other than that nothing of particular interest had occurred. The sun had risen, some birds had chirped, and Sam was bored.
He didn't have any experience building things, and he could only carry so many supplies back and forth before things got too technical for unskilled hands. The Outlanders were still getting used to standing under the White Fang's banner, so they weren't a talkative bunch either. Supreme Leader Khan was too important to bother, which left Sam in the outlying roles like standing watch or running water to the laborers. Not unimportant tasks, but Sam had expected more to further for Faunus kind. Something that didn't make him feel like the help, at least.
Rustling foliage to the west snapped Sam out of his day dreaming, and he turned sharply to see what was coming. He remained crouched underneath the tree, but his red hatchet came free into his right hand. Was it a Grimm, or maybe a bandit? Leader Khan had warned them that she had spat in the face of the Branwen tribe. Both options brought with them a sense of fear and exhilaration, but Sam forced himself to stay still. If he gave away his position too early, there wouldn't be enough time to warn the others.
Sam couldn't stop his breath from coming out in harsh gasps as heavy footsteps approached. A four legged animal, or was it Grimm? The steps were solid, producing a loud thunk every time a foot struck the ground. Could it be a Griffon, or even a dreaded Nuckelavee? Get a grip, Sam. He admonished himself. If it is a Grimm, you're telling it exactly where you are with all this nervousness. It was easier thought than done, however. Every approaching step echoed in his ears, and Sam nearly fell back from his crouch. The young Faunus steeled himself, and he rose ever so slightly to get a glimpse at the approaching creature...
Only to sigh in relief when he found a black horse walking leisurely along the path. It was saddled and well groomed, if a little dirty from the jungle. The lookout relaxed his grip on his weapon and tilted his head inquisitively. The horse was a well kept animal, but where was the owner? Sam didn't know much about horses, but he could tell by the hidden stitching and single piece leather on the saddle that the saddle was a custom job. Not a cheap piece of kit to let go stumbling around the woods.
The rasp of metal on stone to his left drew Sam's attention with a startled gasp, and he hefted his hatchet once more. A man stood next to one of the many trees that lined the path, a whetstone in one hand with a wide blade knife in the other. He wore a white leather gambler hat, a white vest of the same material, and a black shirt and pants over white alligator boots. He wore a satchel and a holster with an ornate revolver hung off of his hip, supported by a black leather belt. Sam raised his hatchet and pointed at the man with his free hand, though he knew full well he was at a disadvantage.
"Stop right there!" He called out in what he hoped was a commanding tone, "This area belongs to the White Fang! Turn around and go back the way you came." Yeah, that sounded good. A real authority could be felt in his voice, and he took solace in the fact that his new mask hid his nervousness from view. The man's face was partially hidden by the brim of his hat, but his relaxed stance and demeanor told Sam that he was far from intimidated. The man stropped one more pass with his knife, looked it over, and then placed back into its sheathe in one smooth, practiced motion. He stowed the whetstone in his satchel, then stood to his full height and walked over toward Sam. Over three inches taller than him, too.
"Not even going to ask who I am? That's rude." The cowboy muttered, and Sam couldn't help but bristle. Who did this human think he was? And coming up on the secluded headquarters of the White Fang, no less! He could be an SDC spy for all I know. I can't let him stay here!
"I'm giving you one more warning! Leave, or face the consequences!" Sam ordered, lifting his axe a little higher for the threat it implied. For any random passerby, the threat alone would be enough to discourage them from staying. For this cowboy, he didn't seem too impressed. If anything, the small smirk on his face said that the human was amused. That didn't bode well. The only people that were amused by raised weapons were those that were used to dealing with them. Like a Huntsman...
"Look, son. I can see you're real serious about protecting the White Fang, really, I can. But you can't just go threatening every damn person that walks up on ya." The man gestured around them at the dense vegetation. "I've been tromping through these woods for six days and swatting mosquitoes the size of house cats. If you think I'm just gonna turn away now, you're wrong in the head." The cowboy squared his shoulders, making it clear that he wasn't going anywhere. Sam felt more than a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck, but he gritted his teeth and focused on his own indignation. How dare this human presume to enter their territory, as if he belonged there all along? Sam had no idea who this guy was, but it seemed that a conflict was unavoidable. He had to protect Supreme Leader Khan and the others from this Huntsman!
"I told you to leave! That was your last chance!" Sam cried, and rushed forward toward the intruder. There was maybe thirty feet between them, and the man made no move to draw the pistol from his waist. He'd caught the human by surprise. He closed in, hatchet raised and ready – only to gasp in surprise as the man knocked the weapon from his hand with the back of his fist and kicked Sam's legs out from underneath him in the same motion. The Faunus hit the ground hard, not really knowing how to fall and recover quickly. He scrambled to get back up, but the Huntsman was on his back immediately. Sam thrashed and snarled, but soon enough his arms and legs were bound with rope. Within ten seconds, he had gone from bravely attacking a trespassing human to being bound and hefted onto the Huntsman's back.
This is NOT how I expected today to go... Sam thought dejectedly. He gave a few half hearted kicks to test the knot around his ankles, but it was too snug to move. This cowboy knew how to capture people, that was for sure. And now Sam had let down the whole camp by letting this human beat him.
"Alright, come on. Let's get you to Sienna." The Huntsman said with a grunt of effort, picking Sam off of the ground and slinging him over his shoulder. A short whistle brought the horse he had first been distracted by, and Sam found himself slung over the rear of the animal. With his head facing the intruder once more, Sam wriggled and grunted as he worked to free himself.
"Who the hell are you? How do you know the Khan?" Sam demanded, as if he were in any position to demand anything. The cowboy snorted and chuckled a little, shaking his head as he grabbed the reins of his horse.
"Now see? If you'd just asked that to begin with, we could've avoided this whole mess. Now then, I'm guessing the main camp's through here?" It was a rhetorical question, but one Sam refused to answer anyway. "You ain't from Menagerie, are ya boy?"
"What, you think just 'cause I'm a Faunus, I'm from Menagerie? Figures you'd be a racist prick." Sam opened his mouth to say more, but the stranger swatted him in the face with the reins. Not enough to actually hurt, but the sting stopped the next sentence from coming out of his mouth.
"Not what I meant, son. I was asking because if you'd been in Menagerie a few weeks ago, you would recognize me from all the times I saved the construction crews from Grimm while they were finishing the wall around Kuo Kuana. But since you ain't from there, you didn't know who I was." He gave Sam a sidelong glance as they cleared the path and entered the open space, to the notice of some of the other White Fang. Many of them waved, but there were more than a few confused looks when they saw Sam as a captive. None dared to approach at first, and the young White Fang sentry felt his stomach drop when he saw Marcus coming down the hill. The grizzled veteran locked eyes with Sam, and his jaw jutted forward in frustration.
Somehow, Sam felt like his day was about to get worse.
"Hey there, Marcus." The cowboy greeted, further cementing into Sam's mind that he'd fucked up. "How's the building coming along? Have any problems?" The cowboy lifted Sam's restrained body off of his horse, setting him on the ground gently. Sam faintly heard a knife leave its sheathe, but he was far more worried about the grim expression on the White Fang foreman's face. There was a faint sawing sound, and Sam's ankles came free. He sat up on his knees with help from the human, and soon his wrists were unbound as well.
"Nothing we couldn't handle. The boss lady has been going stir crazy though. Think that's something you can handle?" What?! This human had assaulted him, trussed him up, and brought him into camp like some prize boar! And yet the foreman was offering to introduce him to the Supreme Leader?!
"I'm sure she's got plenty to say to me." The man nodded in Sam's direction. "Kid's got spirit, but you might want to make sure he addresses people before he starts threatening them. He'll live longer that way." Marcus nodded slowly, then his steely gaze fell upon the young Faunus. Sam quailed underneath his scrutiny.
"I'll be sure to do that. It's good to see you here, Arthur. Stick around if you can. Sienna could use a bodyguard right now." Marcus glanced around, and some unspoken message passed between the two that Sam couldn't pick up on. The now named Arthur grabbed the reins of his horse and rolled his shoulders.
"Well, might as well pull this splinter now. Where's she at?" Marcus pointed his chin toward the Supreme Leader's tent up on the ledge that overlooked the entire site, and Arthur nodded appreciatively. "Alright then. If you hear any shouting, come save me. I won't be able to hold her off for long." The way he said it implied that it was a joke, but considering he was visiting the Supreme Leader of the White Fang, Sam didn't quite know how acquainted the two were. And before he could follow to get a better understanding, an iron grip settled onto his shoulder.
"Now, about that sentry job..." Marcus didn't raise his voice, but it was because he didn't have to. His sheer size and frightening demeanor made Sam whimper all the same.
Arthur could faintly hear the sound of the young Faunus crying out for mercy as he trudged up the small path that wound around the edge of the cliff. He smirked and shook his head, only feeling a little sorry for the youngster. If he'd just asked, Arthur would have explained everything to him. Still, he hadn't hurt the boy, and it seemed that this was a lesson worth learning. Whenever one dealt with racism, all too often they found themselves firing back in kind. Faunus that were used to being discriminated against by humans all too often returned the sentiment, not that Arthur blamed them. It took a strong person to weather such treatment without letting it alter their values, and sometimes it was better to react than to just sit there and take it.
The gunslinger shook his head, saving his musings for later. Sienna had made a bold move, challenging the leader of a known bandit gang for control of his warriors. She'd been hurt, and hadn't even given him advance notice that it was going to happen. The decision to tell him after the fact had been taken from her hands by Tukson, but it still stung that she had hidden it from him. Ghira's explanation on her motives eased the indignation, but did not dispel it completely. It was still a discussion he needed to have with her, as a friend.
Provided that she's willing to hear my out. He mused, spitting into the dirt as he crested the top of the ridge. Sienna's quarters were modest, little more than a thick tent with four walls. One of those walls was rolled up and secured, allowing the Supreme Leader an unobstructed view of the construction site. Arthur looked around inside briefly, but didn't see the tigress anywhere. Figuring that she would reveal herself sooner or later, Arthur turned to get a bird's eye view of the construction.
It was clear that the White Fang were building on top of a previous site, though what had been there before was already cleared away. Arthur could see that the foundation for the site was carved stone, but so much had been covered by the White Fang's zoning marks and construction materials that it was impossible to determine the previous structure. He had to give Marcus and his boys credit, though; the Faunus craftsmen worked fast. From Ghira's explanation, a lot of the White Fang dedicated to this new project were out of work from the SDC and other companies, skilled hands that had suddenly found themselves without jobs. From Arthur's point of view, it was an injustice that worked in favor of the White Fang, since they had gotten a talented workforce that believed in the cause.
"That sure is something." Arthur commented, removing his hat to scratch his head. He held in in front of him for a moment, taking in the scenery, and lifted it to put it back on – only for the hat to disappear from his grasp. Arthur spun around as the alligator skin gambler hat flew behind him, and could only grin when he saw Sienna retreating into her tent, holding up her trophy for him to see. He hadn't even noticed her approach.
"It most certainly is, cowboy. One would think you would hold on to your things more tightly than that." She teased, tossing his hat back after spinning it on her finger a few times. Arthur snatched it out of the air and placed it back on his head, her playfulness making it difficult to hold on to his frustration from earlier. Difficult, but not impossible.
"You're looking pretty good for someone who just had her shoulder dislocated." There wasn't as much bite in the statement as he wanted there to be, but it was enough to sour the mood. Sienna's playful smirk disappeared, and her brow took a hard edge as she crossed her arms. Arthur could see the mulish attitude coming, and he realized that his own anger had flared up before he'd been able to control it.
"I can take care of myself, mister Morgan. I don't need you to solve my every problem." Sienna returned stiffly, and she marched past him to look out over the HQ site. Arthur looked down at his hands and sighed heavily, realizing that he'd opened his big mouth and was going to have to start from his knees on this one.
"I'm sorry, Sienna, but that ain't how I meant it. I know full well you can handle yourself, I just hate that I found out about it like I did. You had me worried sick the whole ride down to Menagerie, and when I got there you were gone." Arthur walked up to stand beside her, though he gave her enough distance in case she wanted to walk away. She didn't, thankfully. "Ghira explained the who and why when I got down there, and I don't blame you for how you handled it. I just wanted to know about it before the punches started flying." Sienna didn't respond, and he stood there next to her, silent as they gazed out over the White Fang's colossal undertaking. He'd said his piece, and now it was up to how she responded whether or not he would have to grovel for her forgiveness. Hopefully, she would understand.
"I was expecting a fight, to be honest. Still, you have to understand that I cannot rely on you for every problem. If I'm to be any kind of capable leader, I must fight my own battles, Arthur. I...am sorry for worrying you, though. I was so focused on recruiting the Outlanders that contacting you seemed less important. Not because I didn't care for your input, but just because everything was simply overwhelming. I was about to fight my own brother to the death, and calling you away from helping your friends was the last thing on my mind." It was a little rough as far as apologies go, but from the wounded expression on her face he knew that this apology was difficult for her.
"I understand. I ain't trying to make you sound like some damsel in distress. I've just lost too many friends to leave things to chance." He turned to face her, patting the woman on the shoulder. "Come on, let's put it past us. I'm tired of being mad at ya."
Sienna looked down at her shoulder where his hand rested, then back up at him. For a moment, he thought she wouldn't take the peace offering, but a smirk crossed her face and she wrapped him up in a hug before he react. Her arms wrapped underneath his to his back, not quite touching as she pulled him close even despite her smaller size. Arthur blinked, then let out a hearty chuckle and patted her back. Sienna held the hug for a moment, then finally released him with a determined look in her eye.
"I'll find the generosity to forgive you this time, Arthur. Even if I may have been a fault, however slightly. Just trust me when it comes to running the White Fang, okay?" She placed her hands on her hips, exasperated but otherwise in a good mood. Arthur sighed heavily and stared at her for a moment, then shrugged in defeat.
"Sure. Just tell me the next time you plan on getting into a life or death fight. Never hurts to have back up." He looked back down at the site once more. "Now tell me exactly what you've got going on here. This is way bigger than anything I've ever seen built."
Happy with the subject change, Sienna turned as well and swept her hand toward the back of overhang, where the ruined temple had once stood.
"There's an extensive cave system in the back that we are fortifying and strengthening. Once that's done, we will have several discreet exits should the HQ come under attack." Her finger went higher to the plateau above the work site. "There's a river above it that we may be able to tap for renewable energy, not to mention clean water. Our Dust reserves are pretty low right now, and the less we require to stay operational, the better. Marcus said he could get something simple up and running for now, but that we should be on the lookout for experts later down the road. Improvements are always possible. As for the rest, we have plans for a barracks, weapons testing, a training dojo for new recruits..." She trailed off, but the content smile on her face told Arthur all he needed to know. Sienna was doing exactly what she was meant to do, and he could tell that she was enjoying every moment of it. Even with all the trials and hardships that came with running the White Fang, it was good to see her finally settle into what she wanted to do.
But that begged the question: what was it that he wanted? He'd been on his way out of the bandit lifestyle back in America, though TB was forcing his hand in that regard. Beyond taking care of the Marston family and delivering the Relic of Choice to Ozpin, he didn't really have a goal in mind. Sure, his friendship with the White Fang and Sienna had been the source of some fun times, but ultimately the fight for equality was theirs. He liked them all, especially since they had gone out of their way to help him get on his feet, but Arthur had not lived to nearly forty years by borrowing trouble from others. If Sienna asked him for help, he would give it, but there was no room in the White Fang for Arthur Morgan. Maybe here in Remnant...on Remnant, however you say it, he'd finally find some peace. Settle down, build a home and just rest for a time. At least without the law on his back, anyway.
"...Arthur?" Too late, he realized he'd spaced out on Sienna, though she didn't seem to mind judging by the amused smirk. He blinked a few times, then shook his head and chuckled.
"Sorry 'bout that. I was somewhere else." He gestured toward the work site. "You got a lot going on here; anything I can do to help? I can run security like I did in Kuo Kuana if you'd like." Sienna gave him a knowing look, but shook her head at his offer.
"With the Outlanders I acquired after my fight with Shao, I've got plenty of experienced guns covering the perimeter. I do have a job lined up as soon as Adam finishes up the recon, if you're interested. We're going to send a message to the SDC that we're not to be trifled with." She stepped away from the cliff side, and Arthur followed her curiously. Was this the beginning of Sienna's new brand of White Fang? He had to see this.
"Is that so? Care to share?" He followed her back toward her tent. She walked around the table and unrolled a map that had been secured there. On it was a location on Anima that didn't look too far from the base, about a day and a half's ride if he were guessing. The property drawn on it reminded him of Braithwaite Manor.
"I'm still working on the details, but with your help and Cain's Dust expertise, we're going to be take a three story summer retreat and turn it into a one story construction site. Interested?" Tweaking the nose of the SDC by hitting a family owned retreat sounded gutsy, the kind of action Sienna had wanted to use to push their cause further than Ghira had ever wanted to go. It also sounded like the kind of action that required the White Fang to be out of Menagerie.
"I thought you were wanting to finish this place up before you starting burning down towns." He leaned across the table, taking in the details on the map and committing them to memory. Sienna frowned at his casual remark, then pointed down at the plans.
"We are. Like I said, there's still some things to figure out before we move. The wait staff there are 100% Faunus, and we've found some sympathizers that can get us in and out with no trouble. The staff leaves, you and the others go in and plant explosives, and we all get to watch their symbol of excess burn to the ground. In and out, before the authorities can arrive. It will depend on speed, communication, and teamwork." She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back. "If some priceless and easily fenced goods disappear on the way out, then consider it our responsibility to save valuables from destruction. What do you say, Arthur? Up for a little freedom fighting?"
The gunslinger looked down at the map hard, his hands on his hips as he considered the plan. It wasn't a bad one, and as long as they did it right no one would get hurt. It would also get attention on an international scale, and show the world that the White Fang was done asking nicely. Still though...
"You're sure no one will be inside? You got a list of all the servants and cooks that work there?" Sienna's grin widened; she knew that he wouldn't be asking if he wasn't interested in helping.
"Adam's finishing up the details, but we should have a full work roster. The head butler keeps meticulous records, but he will be attending to matters outside of the estate when we go in. Apparently he's quite a lush off the clock, as well as the only human on staff. His second in command is the one we approached, and he's confident that everyone can get clear within ten minutes. By the time you're done setting the charges, the only thing in danger will be Jacques Schnee's money." And if he were guessing, they'd been using SDC charges from their mines. That seemed to be the White Fang's source of explosives and Dust, and by God was it ironic. Still, Sienna seemed confident in the plan, and it sounded pretty good...
"Alright, I'm in. Just make sure the kid does it right. He's a little too bloodthirsty for this kind of work to go off without a hitch. What do you have me doing in the meantime?" Sienna's brilliant smile shone, and she practically skipped around the table to a small piece of paper on the nightstand next to her cot.
"Thank you so much, Arthur. You have no idea what this means to me. While we finish the preparations on this job, there's a place you may want to visit. I think their services might interest you." She handed him the paper, though it looked more like a brochure than anything. Arthur read over it, and he couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. He looked back toward the cliff face, then down at the brochure. If he had time to kill, this was the perfect way to do it.
"Well I'll be..."
John knew he shouldn't be trusting Sean right off the bat, because this job sounded too good to be true. Still, the money was right, and if he was going to take care of Abigail and Jack in this society they were going to need it. Given all the shady things he'd done for Dutch, a job like this wasn't too far out of his wheelhouse, either. Acting as muscle for a local crime boss felt like their trip to Saint Denis, only this time Jack hadn't been kidnapped.
He found himself leaning up against a wall in the shadier parts of Vale, as close to a red light district as he'd seen in the city. He hadn't gotten a feel for the entire town, large as it was, but the technology and people they had was astounding. In America, cars and planes and automatic weapons and all kinds of other stuff were things right out of science fiction, but here in Vale it was reality. The social climate was a lot different too. Around here, people didn't much care for your color, although the Faunus seemed to get a worse shake than everyone else. That was another thing he was still wrapping his head around. People with animal parts seemed like a fever dream back home, but now he not only had to deal with it, he had to focus on not staring and causing any more trouble.
The guy that Junior had sent with him was dressed like the rest of his lackeys: the standard suit, hat, and red sunglasses. Said his name was Chester, which didn't seem like much of a gangster name. When John said as much, the man had laughed. "Yeah, it's a good thing they see the outfit and say Junior, not Chester. Otherwise we couldn't scare a fifth grader." The guy could laugh at himself, which seemed rare in this line of work. Regardless, John and Chester were tasked with either recruiting or dispersing an up and coming gang called the Red Axe Gang that had been causing a stir in the slums and the shipping districts. Peddling drugs and prostitutes was all well and good, but if Junior wasn't getting a cut then he was losing money to rival business. So as an initiation into the Xiong Family's ranks, John's job was to solve the problem – one way or another.
John and Chester walked down the alley that led toward the most reported sighting of the Red Axe, just as the street lights overhead began to flicker on and off. Chester glanced up for a moment and then ignored it, so John ignored it as well. Despite his experience with being muscle, this new world required John to follow Chester's lead until he had a better understanding of the place. Scrolls, Bullheads, hell even the drugs were different. So he would follow Chester's lead for now, until he could take better care of himself.
"They said that they like to use their customers as shields, so watch your fire if things go tits up. Unaffiliated getting killed attracts the law, and Junior has to burn favors to keep them off of our backs. Plus, the people don't deserve to get gunned down in the street." That Chester felt the need to add the second part made John feel a little better about the people he was working with, though only slightly.
"I'm a pretty good shot, no worries. Now what if one of them have Aura?" Another thing he was getting used to. Junior had promised that continued success in the Family would see his Aura unlocked, but it wasn't something he was just gonna hand out. Even a crime lord new better than to make every thug that walked through his door bulletproof. John had to prove that he was a good investment, then he'd receive the upgrade. After his little tussle with Sean, Marston had to admit that he craved a safety net like Aura in a fight.
"We back off and get the twins to come out. Aura isn't exactly a deal breaker, but the amount of noise we'd make taking down someone with Aura would defeat the purpose of the boss just sending in two of us. If you see that shimmer, we're out. Just make sure you don't get caught." Chester turned to look at John out of the corner of his eye. "Most of these mooks that have their Aura unlocked aren't exactly trained in it. If you're not a Huntsman or Huntress, Aura training gets crazy expensive. It's how Beacon and the other schools keep the likes of us down. Even the Malachite sisters attended some gym in Vale to get as good as they are."
"Good to know." John nodded, then focused on the end of the alley. Already, signs of their prey were appearing: junkies leaning up against walls in the middle of a debilitating high, two women dressed for too scandalously for the weather, and a young hood at the corner keeping an eye on all of it. Get your fix or your roll in the hay, all under the watchful eye of the gang. A good way to guarantee repeat business, providing safety, but it also told John and Chester that they were in the right place.
"Follow my lead." Chester hissed, and John let his hand drop to his Cattleman. He didn't grasp the grip, but his hand didn't stray as he walked either. The two calmly approached the corner, and one of the junkies came off the wall suddenly in Chester's path. The goon made a show of shoulder checking the addict, spinning him around and back into the wall with enough force to break his nose. The man fell back down onto the ground, but from his complaining the poor guy wasn't so much hurt as he was offended. Opiates were a hell of a drug.
Still, it did the trick. The hooded man watching over everyone shouted at Chester, but one look at his outfit told the lookout everything he needed to know.
"Heard you boys were doing business around here." Chester offered, focused entirely on the lookout while John watched his back. The two street walkers grabbed their belongings from the curb and darted out of the alley, but the remaining customers were still a possible issue. John had never been high like these guys, but he knew anything was possible.
"Yeah? What's it to you?" The hood shot back, one hand free by his side while the other clenched something in his hoodie pocket. John kept watch on the others, but that tucked hand became the biggest issue they had. If he pulled a gun, he doubted Chester's knife would reach the hood in time.
"Junior don't mind a little competition on the side; it keeps things interesting on the market. But if you're gonna be operating out here, you gotta pay the toll. So, here's our proposition," Chester's butterfly knife came out of his sleeve as he waved his arm. "Pay the tax and keep things moving, or be off our turf by sunrise. Your choice." The hood bristled at the offer, and John could already see where this was going. What he could also see, however, was one of the junkies sitting on the ground had stopped staring off into space and was watching the showdown intently. Coherently, too. Hiding out with the customers, huh? Not a bad plan. You forgot to keep up the act, though. John mentally admonished, and he changed targets. Chester had the lookout, John was now focused on the sleeper. And it was a good thing, too.
"Here's what I have to say about your offer!" The hood proclaimed, ripping a blackjack from his hood and charging Chester. The goon shook his head and held his knife out in a standard grip, taking a stance as the youth approached. At the same time, the 'junkie' that John had been watching revealed that underneath his ratty clothes and half of a blanket was a pump action shotgun. Instead of drawing his revolver and attracting attention with gunfire, John dashed over to where the man was seated and drove his boot into the hideout's wrist, causing him to cry out and release the weapon. As the shotgun clattered to the ground, John's Cattleman cleared its holster and was pressed to the man's temple with all the authority of Death himself.
"I reckon you best stay put, friend. I'd hate to see what happens next." John threatened. He backed up as the man raised his hands in surrender, keeping a decent distance between them as he collected the shotgun. Behind him, Chester and the lookout scuffled with their baton and knife, though the pained cries from the youth told John that Chester was a little more experienced than he let on. The suited man ducked a wide, sweeping strike and darted in to slice the outstretched arm, adding another angry red line to the lookout's growing collection of wounds. The boy snarled in response and swung again, but was no more successful than he had been the first time.
John looked around, making sure more of them weren't coming out of the surrounding buildings. Once he was comfortable that things were under control, he holstered his revolver and took hold of his new shotgun. He racked the slide, a satisfying sound that brought Chester's opponent to a stand still. It had no such effect on Chester, however, and the suited goon knocked the kid out with one good haymaker to the temple. With only one left to deal with, John pointed the gun back at its previous owner.
"You know the terms. Now run back and tell the rest. Pay up, or get out. It's that simple." John intoned. The man that had tried to ambush them didn't answer with words, but he nodded as he kept his eyes down. John backed off into the alley they had come from, and Chester followed suit. Once they were a comfortable distance away, the two turned and made their way back to the car at a brisk pace. As they walked, Chester gave John an appraising look through those silly glasses he wore.
"You did pretty good, new guy. I'll let the boss know you've got some grit to you. He'll definitely want you along for some more important work." He looked down at John's captured shotgun. "On top of your pay tonight, why don't you keep that? It's gotta be better than that six shooter." John didn't like someone bad mouthing a gun he'd carried for years, but he wasn't going to turn down a free shotgun neither. Instead, he simply grunted and let the shotgun fall in his left hand. He'd take it apart and get it tuned up when they got home, and if nothing else it would be a good defense gun for Abigail and the boy.
This is only temporary. John reminded himself. I just gotta get us settled, and we'll be done with all this. Somehow, he didn't believe that.
Summer knew that America was a large country, but she could have never guessed just how much distance had been between Saint Denis and Canada. Two whole weeks of traveling was starting to fray her nerves, even though the others were in dire need of help. Her oath as a Huntress seemed a little hollow, considering she had all but abandoned Remnant and then sent the one thing she had been protecting back there with a terminally ill cowboy. Still, she couldn't just abandon Arthur's friends on top of her own family, not after the promise she had made. As it stood, they were just a few miles west of Chicago, following the Mississippi River all the way up to the Great Lakes. It kept them close enough to civilization to resupply and keep tabs on whether or not they were being followed, but far enough away that the law wouldn't have time to descend on what was left of the Wapiti and the Van der Linde gang. Although, the heat on the latter wasn't quite as bad considering Dutch himself had been caught. The further North they went, the more scarce the news became, but Summer had it on good authority that Dutch's trial would be speedy and decisive. The noose awaited for Arthur's old mentor.
And I might as well have wrapped it around his neck myself. She thought grimly. No matter how you sliced it, Summer's intervention in the Van der Linde gang had ultimately led to its destruction. It had been an earned death and a deserved one, but she still could not stomach harming those that Arthur had called friends. Not when he had promised to look after her own family. A nudge from behind her pulled Summer out of her downtrodden thoughts, and she looked up to take in her surroundings.
The caravan was passing through a shallow valley, the last little bit of mountainside that she could see before they approached the flats near the Great Lakes. Even as far as it was, Lake Michigan was already sending gusts of wind their way. The trees were taller here, but less numerous. The path curled slightly into the taller side of the valley, and beyond lay their destination.
Beside her, Charles nodded toward the trees, his expression guarded. Summer followed his gaze, and found a black raven staring at them from the branches. When her gaze fell upon the animal, it began to preen, hiding its face within its feathers.
"Seems you've got a new pet." Charles commented dryly, watching the bird as well. Summer's brow furrowed at his comment, and gave the mixed man a questioning look.
"What do you mean?" He pointed out the bird directly, even as it continued to clean itself diligently.
"That same bird has been following us since we left Lemoyne. It's the only raven I've ever seen that large. And it has red eyes." Charles explained, and Summer reexamined the bird. It was a healthy thing, that was for sure. It almost reminded her of her teammate, Raven, but that couldn't be possible. Raven was on Remnant, and believed her to be dead. A check of the messages on Tai's scroll account had proven that. Still, the resemblance was uncanny.
"Huh. Weird. Know anyone that can train a bird?" She asked as a joke, but Charles' expression remained solemn. He looked back up at the bird, then shook his head as they passed the tree it was perched in.
"Most people consider ravens to be good luck, but that one...I don't think I've ever heard of a bird with red eyes being a good omen." Another coincidence, and this one was much more alarming. Maybe...maybe I should check that one out? If it truly was Raven Branwen following her and not the most unique bird in the U.S. then Summer's best bet to confirm it was to isolate herself and see if her old teammate approached.
"Well, I doubt it's anything to worry about. Hey, can you keep watch for a minute?" Charles raised a brow, and Summer didn't have to fake her embarrassed blush. I've got, uh, something to take care of before we get out onto the flats." She watched the man's brow furrow until he relaxed a moment later, finally putting together what she was asking.
"Alright. Just don't stray too far; we have enough gaps in our guard as it stands." He nodded his head toward a particularly dense thicket at the base of a tree nearby. Summer stepped away from the caravan and stood next to the tree, waiting patiently as the rest of the Wapiti Nation made their way past. A few of them gave her a searching look, but for the most part they ignored her in favor of a grim trek north. Once the wagon train had passed and she had some modicum of privacy, Summer stepped behind the thicket.
She waited a few moments, eyes and ears sharp for any sign of her old teammate. She half hoped that it would actually be Ray, if only because she would have someone that knew what was going on back home. At the same time, the woman showing up that she had given so much grief about running out on Tai and their daughter when Summer herself had just done the same thing? Yeah, that was a discussion she did NOT want to have.
Summer looked around a few more times, not detecting any movement in the brush, then sighed and decided to take care of business while she was in a private area. She really did have to pee, it hadn't been a lie.
"Hey." She had bent down to begin her business when the voice nearly scared her out of her skin, causing the silver eyed warrior to shriek in surprise as she snatched her pants back up. When she spun around, face blazing red, she found Raven standing with her arms crossed, oozing smugness.
"Ray! What the hell?! Can't you see I was trying to use the bathroom?" So caught up in the embarrassment, Summer failed to actually consider the words until they were out of her mouth. If anything, Raven's smirk became even more pronounced.
"Oh, I'm sorry. By all means, continue. I've never seen a dead woman take a piss before." From the way she stayed put, Raven had no intentions in actually giving Summer any privacy. The urge was still there, but her apprehension toward facing her old teammate drowned out her bladder's cries for relief. Summer had the good grace to look sheepish, but it was so hard to meet Raven's gaze. Ever the predator, Ray took her silence as an invitation to lay on the criticism.
"Raven finally reads the writing on the wall and leaves behind her darling family in search of answers and protection in the wilderness, and Summer is the first to cry foul. And yet, here I find you doing the exact same thing. But you ran MUCH further than I could have ever dreamed. Tell me, were mad because it hurt, or because I did it first?" The bandit leader sneered, and the words cut Summer to her core. Yep, this was happening. Hopefully Charles didn't come looking, because this discussion was probably going to end violently.
"It's not like that!" Summer defended, albeit feebly. "I had a close call in Vacuo, and Salem's agents told me that they were heading for Ruby and Yang next. I figured if they thought I had actually died, they would leave Tai and the others alone. As for this place..." She shrugged. "I found it by accident. An old stone gateway out in the desert of Vacuo that activates upon contact with Aura."
Raven looked around at the foliage that surrounded them, thinking over Summer's words as she did so. The bandit leader gave no indication whether she believed Summer, or even considered her words valid in the face of what was probably the biggest hypocrisy this side of Ozpin. The thought brought all the shame she had been fighting these past few months back to the forefront, and Summer had to bite her lip to stay focused.
"I can't fault you for running, especially since Salem recognizes the danger of your eyes. That, and I'm assuming you're packing a little more than silver eyes." As she said that, yellow flames curled from her eyes, and Summer gasped in surprise. Now there wasn't just one, but two Maidens in America. If Amber was still alive, then that meant that Raven most likely had the Spring Maiden's powers. More had happened in her absence than she had first thought.
"How did you know to look for me? The only one who knows I'm still alive should be at Shade Academy right now, or at the very least keeping it a secret." At the mention of Arthur, Raven chuckled and drew her scroll out, typing in a few commands before she turned it toward Summer. The silver eyed woman's shoulders slumped when she saw her own image on the device, a still taken from her instructional videos to Arthur.
"A little cowboy ran into some trouble in Mistral. He was escorting the White Fang and ran afoul of a drunk old crow." Raven smirked at Summer's horrified gasp. "You gave him your scroll, but you didn't teach him to keep the locator turned off? Really set the man up for failure, didn't you?" Oh. That. Yeah, unfortunately there was no way to permanently deactivate the tracker unless you destroyed the scroll entirely. The device had been a risk, but it was also the only way she could include so much instructional material in such a short time. Now, all it had done was ruin her secret and put Arthur in danger.
"Are they alright? I know Qrow wouldn't be thrilled considering, well..." She gestured vaguely around her. "What happened between them?" Raven walked over toward the nearest tree (not the one she almost peed on) and leaned up against it, crossing her arms over the hilt of her sword.
"If you're wondering who was the better fighter, that was never determined. They were just starting to get serious when I intervened. Of course, they weren't a challenge for someone like me." Raven admitted her superiority so casually, inspecting her nails with a bored expression. "The cowboy did manage to escape my camp, and he took my foolish brother with him. In any case, you certainly know how to pick your men." Summer winced, picking up on the insult. Not only had she chosen a capable replacement, but she had gone after Raven's sloppy seconds in the form of Taiyang. Oh, this conversation was shaping up to be exactly how she had dreaded it.
"Well, that's good, I guess." Summer suddenly found herself out of things to say, leaving the conversation entirely up to Raven. She could sit there and blister Summer until the sun sank below the horizon, or she could do what she had come to do. Regardless of the satisfaction Ray got from pointing out Summer's failures, there had to be a reason she had come to America. An uncomfortable silence spread out between them, and Summer cast a worried glance back toward the trail. If she was gone for too long, Charles or Sadie would come looking for her, if only because they needed as many guards as they had. Raven must have noticed, because she sighed heavily and ran a hand through her wild mane.
"Why did you come back here?" She asked quietly. Summer said nothing at first; what could she say? The dysentery and backwards civil rights were just to die for? No, she'd come back because of how easy it would be to survive in a world like this. Not only survive, but disappear.
"No one here has Aura. They don't even know what it is." Summer explained. "Their technology is about a hundred years behind ours, and the country here is still mostly wild and unregulated. Anyone from Remnant could come here and disappear without a problem." The shame at admitting her cowardice burned all the way to her core. Raven didn't press the issue this time, but she didn't really have to; Summer's own conscience was doing that for her. The bandit leader nodded slowly, then looked back at Summer with those same piercing, crimson eyes.
"Knowing what you do now, do you want to go back?" It was an offer; Ray wouldn't waste time bringing it up if it wasn't. Summer's initial response was to say no, but she hesitated. If Raven knew that she was still alive, then Arthur had either been unwilling or incapable of keeping her secret, most likely the latter judging by Raven's story. If word got to Salem and her forces that Summer Rose was still alive, then Taiyang, Ruby, and Yang were in danger all over again. Only this time, she wasn't there to protect them either. The Relic was (hopefully) on its way to Ozpin to be used as he saw fit, but her family was still in danger. She hadn't removed their peril, but delayed it. And now it was time for her to return, if only to make sure that her family would survive. Ozpin could have his war; Summer had already died once for him.
"Yes, I do." She said resolutely. It was the first thing she said to Raven with any kind of conviction, and the red eyed woman chuckled at the response. Ray enjoyed messing with people; power was all she cared about, and guilt brought its own unique power over people. Still, she'd offered to send Summer back. But such an offer was bound to have a cost.
"Good. I almost lost respect for you there." Raven pushed herself off the tree, grasping her sword with one hand and her sheathe with the other. "I can't really give you too much hell after I did the same thing." Summer blinked, not quite believing that Raven would be so generous without cause. Maybe it was because she agreed with the plan? Or because she knew just what kind of threat Salem caused?
"Raven..." Summer began, but a pointed look from the woman cut her off. Raven shook her head and closed her eyes, obviously concentrating on her Semblance.
"Don't go making this pathetic." She admonished. "I don't have the time or the patience for such nonsense. We are much farther away than I'm used to traveling, so this will take a lot out of me. You had better make it count." Before Summer could say anything else about it, Raven drew her sword, opening the signature swirling vortex that was her Semblance. The black and crimson rift swirled in the air, but it seemed smaller than the ones Summer had always seen. Raven's face began to drip with sweat, and her every muscle was clenched with the effort of maintaining the portal.
"Go. Hurry!" The bandit leader bit out. Summer wanted to say something, anything really, but she wasn't about to let sentiment stop her from seeing her family again. Without even considering the possible fallout, Summer dove into the portal as quickly as she could, abandoning caution in favor of speed. Her vision washed black, and she had the sudden rush that came with falling through space. When the light returned, she landed half onto a bed, half off of it. The resulting tumble dumped a hundred and twenty pounds of expert Huntress into the floor, throwing her cloak off of herself as quickly as she could. She looked around the room, her heart in her throat as she considered the possibilities. Ray wouldn't possibly be so cruel as to dump her into Yang's room, would she?
A loud snore interrupted Summer's panic, and she looked over to see the other male member of team STRQ. Qrow was spread eagle on the bed of what was probably a tavern, with several empty bottles of rum lying next to his nerveless fingers. Summer rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation, disappointed that he had never kicked that particular habit. She looked up expectantly to see when Raven would follow, but to her astonishment the portal closed without her teammate coming through. The portal shrank into itself and disappeared with a wink of light, leaving Summer with an unconscious Qrow and several questions. The silver eyed warrior considered her options, and waking Qrow was definitely at the bottom of the list. She doubted that he would be as forgiving as Raven had been, especially if he was as drunk as he smelled. No, Summer knew exactly who would be the first to find out about her return. All she had to do was get a scroll...
But first, she still had to pee!
As Summer slipped out of Qrow's hotel room, Raven watched the portal close with a satisfied smirk. The conversation had been refreshing, given how often she had been on the receiving end of the bullshit. But more than that, she had gotten everything she could ever hope for in a hiding spot.
"A whole world without Aura, huh..." She grinned at the possibilities. There was so much she could do with that, and if they were half as weak as Summer had claimed...
The bushes shook as Sadie Adler entered the woods, but all the woman found was a few footprints and some raven feathers. Summer Rose had made her exit, with the caravan so close to the Great Lakes. And unbeknownst to either Summer or Sadie, the woman that had replaced her in America was far less benevolent.
A/N: Another short chapter to get things rolling. I have a lot of down time now that we are on 10 hour shifts AND I'm on 3rd shift. Police work has its ups and downs, but it is still the best job in the world. I've had to stop myself from writing a report in the middle of my story chapter a few times, though.