Chapter 21
Arthur stared upward at a pistol he had seen pointed at many a person in his lifetime, though today was the first time he found himself looking down the barrel. Black iron with intricate inlays, its matching brother in a holster unless something had happened to it along the way. On the other end of the gun, Dutch Van der Linde himself glared down at him like an angry judge. For someone Arthur had thought to never see again, this was certainly a bitter reunion.
"I got your letter. Brought a real tear to my eye, son." Dutch drawled, his voice cracking as his temper rose. "You was gonna save us all in some sacrifice, run off into the woods to keep the rest of us from getting sick. I didn't think that sending a witch to bring the Pinkertons down on us counted as helping." Arthur slowly let go of the Peacekeeper, keeping both hands up to prevent any misunderstandings. His Aura was about half spent, but he wasn't sure how well it would do against a bullet at point blank range.
"I had TB, Dutch. It ain't exactly allergies." Arthur spit to one side, reeling from the fact that Dutch was stood in front of him and not rotting in some federal prison back in America. "Besides, you were crammed so far up Micah's ass, I doubt you would have noticed if I keeled over in the middle of camp." Dutch snarled at his retort, and Arthur barely leaned back in time to dodge his free hand. From his position on the ground, he was defenseless against the return swing as Dutch smacked him across the face, knocking his hat to the ground as he did so. Arthur tasted blood and spat out a globule of it, feeling his tongue sting from where he'd bitten it.
"You have no idea what I was going through, trying to keep the rest of us alive, Arthur." Dutch snarled, his voice breaking as he gestured casually toward Weiss, who was held captive by another man Arthur didn't recognize. The second man had a black duster and a sturdy hat, with a semiautomatic pistol pressed to her temple. "You seem to have forgotten everything we went through while you've been traipsing around like some modern day Robin Hood."
"Get off of me, you brute!" Weiss hollered indignantly, wriggling in his grip and thrashing her elbows like a trained Huntress would. All it got her was a sharp strike to her temple, stunning the heiress as the bounty hunter adjusted his hold. Dutch watched her with a bemused smirk, then turned his attention and his gun back to Arthur.
"I'm sure you probably got a whole bunch a bitchin' to settle with me," Arthur groused, pointing his chin at Weiss. "But she ain't got a damn thing to do with this. Turn her loose, and we'll settle this however." Dutch shook his head with a chuckle, as if Arthur just wasn't grasping the point. Weiss groggily looked around, a bruise forming on her forehead from where she had been struck. Dutch approached the Huntress in training, angling her chin upward with the barrel of his gun so that he could inspect her face.
"She's a pretty little thing, if a bit young. What brings you two out here together, anyway? Anything to do with all the fireworks we heard?" The outlaw leader gestured in the vague direction of the mansion, and the pall of smoke that hung in the late night air.
"She was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Arthur defended, causing Weiss' eyes to widen as she tracked the conversation. "Killing folk like that ain't strange for you though, is it Dutch? Just like Guarma. Just like Blackwater." The last word was ground out with such hostility that the bounty hunter started gripping his pistol a little tighter. Dutch's fake humor died at the mention of the incident that set the Van der Linde gang down the path that had led to so much death and pain. Arthur had entertained thoughts of it being Dutch's fault long ago, dismissing it in the face of his now decayed loyalty to the man. While others had spoken ill and questioned, Arthur had encouraged them to push past the doubt because he believed in Dutch. As the man stood before him with a gun in his hand, Arthur realized that his faith had been misplaced the whole damn time.
"I was on death row, you see? Shortest trial in the history of New York City. But I made a deal with the devil, and I intend to get mine back before that price comes back." That manic look he had seen on Dutch's face several times had returned full force, the whites of his eyes prominent underneath his bushy brows. "You betrayed me, Arthur! You and John both! After all I did for you boys, everything me and Hosea sacrificed, you threw it all away!" Dutch's gun shook in his hand, the barrel wavering between his wayward outlaw and the log beside him. Arthur kept his hands facing forward, but low just in case he had to draw. They hadn't taken his gun, and he had enough Aura for one round if he had to take it.
"You left John in Sisika. You sent us into that Godforsaken city to rob a bank, and Lenny and Hosea didn't make it back! Or I suppose that's my fault too?!" More heat crept into Arthur's words at the memory of his fallen friends, but he was cut off as another gun was pointed at him.
"Easy there, old timers." The bounty hunter interrupted coolly. "There's still a lot of Grimm running around. Let's keep this reunion short, Van der Linde." Weiss winced as she watched the pistol extend out past her face, her hands wrapping around the forearm that restricted her breathing. Dutch's irritation shifted to his compatriot, and he shook his head dismissively at the reprimand.
"I'm owed this, Mr. Black. If our dear Lady is going to be enjoying my services, then I should at least be able to get my own." He cocked the hammer on his pistol. "But then again, maybe you're right. This has gone on long enough." Dutch's eyes were flinty; cold and unfeeling in the face of murder. Arthur was a good five, maybe six feet away from his old boss, and more from the bounty hunter. The only advantage he had was from whatever Weiss could conjure up, and he wasn't about to see some innocent girl get caught up in a Mexican standoff.
"Now just hold on a minute, Dutch." Arthur began, lifting up from one knee and planting his foot on the ground, giving Weiss a meaningful look while he did so. He wiggled his ankle slightly, and she seemed to get the message. The Schnee heiress put her weight down on both feet, and offered him the slightest of nods in return. For better or worse, that ankle was healed enough to use.
Whatever delay he had was over, and Arthur's eyes began to glow golden as he activated his Semblance. Dutch's reaction shot came at a snail's pace, the hammer striking the primer so slowly that Arthur had plenty of time to dive out of the way. As he rolled out of his dive, the outlaw drew the Peacekeeper and lined up his shot, firing two rounds in quick succession. The first slammed into the cylinder of Dutch's pistol, jarring it from his hand and ruining the weapon. The second shot took Black in the shoulder on his gun arm, spinning him away and causing him to drop his weapon as well. His Semblance faded and the world's colors came rushing back, along with Dutch's curses and the clatter of guns on the ground.
Taking the opening, Weiss rammed the back of her head into Black's nose, spinning out of his already weakened grip as the man fell to the ground in a daze. Dutch snarled as he saw her run, scooping up Black's pistol as the heiress fled in the direction of her destroyed home. He drew a bead on her back, but Arthur stepped between them before he could get the shot off. The White Fang outlaw wrestled the pistol from his former leader's grasp and brought his right hand across, striking Dutch in the temple with enough force to put a Beowulf on its ass. Dutch's head turned to one side, and a cold feeling settled in Arthur's gut as a faint white shimmer ghosted across Dutch's skin.
"You're not the only one with a few tricks up your sleeve, boy." The man snarled, and nodded behind Arthur. The outlaw spun, and could only barely toss Black over his hip as the bounty hunter came flying into him. The distraction was enough for Dutch to give Arthur a punch in return, knocking the wind out of him and causing his Aura to flicker dangerously. Black scrambled to regain his footing and drove his shoulder into Arthur's gut, driving him further into the woods as Dutch walked calmly behind them. Arthur grunted and drove his fist and elbow into whatever soft area he could find, his other arm struggling in vain to get a grip around the bounty hunter's neck.
It was inevitable really, but the gunshots and negative emotions present with Arthur and Dutch in close proximity brought on an interruption that snarled and roared. Arthur felt more than heard the bellow of an Ursa, and a big, meaty paw slammed into Black and sent both men rolling down the hill at the edge of the clearing. The masked creature barreled after them, and Arthur struggled to keep up with its location as he tumbled ass over ear down a forty foot embankment. The outlaw grunted in pain when he finally came to a rest, slowly rolling to his feet as his head continued to spin. He heard another grunt beside him, and stumbled away from it to face his attacker once more.
Marcus Black stood up, just as groggy as Arthur was, but he still managed to draw a wicked looking knife from his boot. The man spat a glob of saliva onto the embankment they had just rolled down, casting his gaze up toward the clearing where they had ambushed Arthur and Weiss. Arthur chanced a look as well, and was slightly relieved to hear gunshots and Grimm roars. It meant that Dutch was too busy fighting to assist Black, and hopefully he couldn't stop Weiss from fleeing, either.
"You and me, cowpoke." Black tossed his knife back and forth, a sinister grin on his face. Arthur drew the Peacekeeper and fired, two rounds digging into Black's shoulder as his Aura flared. The bounty hunter ducked right and put a few trees between them, forcing Arthur to retreat blindly as he tried to maintain distance. A tree behind him jostled his funny bone, causing the outlaw to curse as the nerves in his shooting arm cried out in protest. Black heard it and darted around the trees, closing the scant few meters between them to press his advantage. Instead of trying to shake the feeling back to his arm, Arthur just changed hands, firing another pair of shots into Black's knees.
The bounty hunter tripped and skidded to a stop, his Aura protecting his limbs but doing little for the pain. He struggled to stay upright, and was knocked to the side as Arthur brought the Peacekeeper's barrel across his face with a left handed swipe. Instead of pressing his advantage, Arthur backed off and dug a speed load from his pocket. He kept the load ready as he pointed his revolver at Black, not breaking the action quite yet.
"I'm giving you one chance, Black. Stay away from me and you live another day." Arthur warned, his barrel unwavering as he kept it trained on Black's forehead. The bounty hunter regained his footing, and just as Arthur feared, did nothing more than twirl his knife.
"I'm getting paid good money for your head, Morgan. And I intend to collect." With little else, he charged Arthur again. The outlaw sighed heavily and stepped to the side, batting the knife aside with Peacekeeper and driving his boot into Black's instep. The man overextended, maintaining his grip on the knife and bringing it in to stab Arthur in the side. Arthur stepped back, cursing as he swung at Black's head. The assassin ducked Arthur's fist and swept his leg, but Arthur's retreat negated the sweep and left his back open. Arthur dumped his final two shots into his back, retreating as he reloaded.
Black's Aura had to be lower, but Arthur knew better than to bank on his foe's weakness. His own Aura was still low, maybe at a third strength if he was to gamble. Not enough for a fair fight, regardless of how much he had. His one advantage was the Peacekeeper, which meant he had to keep Black at range. As long as the bounty hunter had to close in on him, Arthur had the upper hand.
The shots did little to brighten Black's mood, the man snarling viciously and he swiped blindly behind him. Had Arthur not moved, it might have been enough to eviscerate him, Aura or not. The outlaw continued skipping back, turning his head now and then to keep another tree from stalling his retreat. Black didn't engage right away, instead circling back toward the hill where Dutch was still shooting Grimm. Arthur glanced around, and noted a few red eyed beasts heading their way as well.
"Shit!" Arthur swore as the knife suddenly emerged from the shadow of a tree next to him, Black following it with an eager look on his face. Another swipe nearly took Arthur's nose off, and he stalled his retreat to drive a hard punch into the bounty hunter's ribs before pushing off, keeping a good ten feet from the man as he raised the Peacekeeper. Black ducked behind another tree just as Arthur was putting pressure on the trigger, but the Beowulf that stood in his place made a good target too. The bone mask of the Grimm shattered as Arthur's weapon thundered, sending the creature to whatever Hell it deserved as he scanned for his opponent. Another roar to his right drew Arthur's attention, but instead of smoking the Ursa it came from with the rest of his cylinder, Arthur ducked in the same direction Black had gone.
The Grimm were monsters, that much he knew, but he also knew they didn't discriminate much either. If he could get Black to tangle with one of the stronger ones, he could end this fight quickly. The only problem was that the bounty hunter was a sneaky bastard. A flutter of cloth caught Arthur's attention, and he fanned the hammer to his right just as he caught sight of that black duster. To his chagrin, he put holes in Black's coat and little else.
A decoy! He realized, too late, and could only hold on for dear life as two meaty hands wrapped around the Peacekeeper. Black's duster gone, he was still dressed in a charcoal button up with rolled up sleeves, exposing his matching skull tattoos on his forearms. The man had a few bumps and bruises visible on his limbs and face, wounds his Aura had not had time to heal all the way. That meant he was lower than Arthur had originally guessed.
Rather than suffer a broken wrist that could end the fight, Arthur released his revolver for just a second, surprising Black with a strike to the bridge of his nose before he wrapped his hand around the grip in reverse, his pinkie holding on to the trigger guard. With his free hand, Arthur drew his knife from his belt and pulled the gun back, stabbing downward toward Black's arms. The bounty hunter released the weapon, but not before Arthur's blade sliced down his forearm in a shower of sparks, his Aura stopping the edge from laying him open. Black drew his knife once again, and the two circled each other, both wary of the other as well as any interruptions.
More snarls and roars echoed throughout the forest, and Dutch's gunshots were becoming more distant. That being said, the creatures sounded like they were all around, drawn to the murderous emotions of the two outlaws. Even as he watched Black's every move, the next attack came from behind. Arthur stepped to the side as he heard the heavy footsteps of a Grimm, likely a Beowulf by its pace. He kept the Peacekeeper pointed at Black, but he couldn't ignore the clack of teeth as the masked Grimm's jaws closed on the air to his right. The beast growled in frustration and swiped at his with its claws, obscuring Black from his view with its muscled forearm. Arthur jumped back and retreated, fleeing not the Grimm but rather the man behind it. A good thing he did, because the vicious dagger darted underneath the Beowulf's arm toward his ribs. The bounty hunter behind it laughed heartily, and he shoved the creature towards Arthur as an impromptu shield.
The Grimm did not take kindly to being used as a weapon and ignored as a predator, but its limited intelligence could only process the insult so far. All it saw was a frustrating amount of effort as its prey continued to evade its attacks. The beast swiped and snapped at the two men, who were more worried about each other than the predictable attacks of one of the most common creatures of Grimm. Arthur ducked a swiped from the Grimm and had to roll out of the way to keep Black from driving his blade into his right eye. Aura or not, he doubted he could heal from taking a knife through the peepers. The Grimm tripped over his legs while he was on the ground, yelping as it kicked up dust. Not wanting to split his attention any longer than necessary, Arthur sent his last round into the Beowulf's skull. Instead of leaving himself vulnerable with a reload, Arthur holstered the Peacemaker to reload later and focused on his knife, looking up just in time to drive both feet into Black's gut as the man tried to pounce on him. The bounty hunter grunted as he was tossed backward, and cried out in alarm as an Ursa grabbed him by the arm as he landed, dragging him in its mouth. Arthur rushed after the Grimm, stowing his knife and throwing his last speed load in his cylinder as he chased the creature through the trees. He watched Black drive his blade into the Ursa's neck, covering himself in blood as the massive creature slowed with a low groan. Black finally got his feet underneath him and wrenched his arm free, flexing his hand for a moment.
Arthur activated his Semblance as he drew down on the man, his eyes glowing gold as he did. Black snarled and charged forward, but his desperate rush slowed to a crawl as Arthur's perception changed. The first round left the Peacemaker and hit him in the forehead, pushing him back with a bewildered look on his face. The second and third took his knees, his Aura flaring dangerously underneath Arthur's assault. Black slowly sank to the ground, a pained grimace spreading across his face. Arthur's Semblance strained, time threatening to resume as he cocked the hammer back again. The final shot drove into Marcus Black's sternum, and time resumed as his back hit the dirt. Arthur sucked in a breath, not expecting his Semblance to drain him as much as it had. His Aura had been low, true, but he wasn't counting on the exhaustion that clung to him now.
Black's Aura flared, a white patchwork of light that covered his body briefly, before it shattered. The man no longer enjoyed the protection of his soul. And judging from how hard he was panting and coughing, he was wore out too.
"That's quite a trick you got there, Morgan." The bounty hunter groaned. "Pity I couldn't get it from you. You're just like the rest." Black snorted derisively, and Arthur opened his cylinder on the Peacemaker to thumb in four more shells, his eyes on his opponent as muscle memory took care of the rest.
"How do you figure that?" Arthur demanded, his eyes searching the woods briefly before returning to his downed enemy. The Grimm that had been attracted to their fight were gone, killed or in search of easier prey toward the Schnee manor. Arthur couldn't hear Dutch's gunshots anymore, either.
"You Huntsmen are always playing the goody two shoes game, lording you righteousness over us common folk like we owe you something. And you're always so dependent on those damn Semblances." Black spit on the ground beside gim, spittle dripping down the side of his face. "The only thing I can say is that I raised my boy better than that." He had a kid? Not exactly pertinent, given the current situation, but it made Arthur shake his head all the same. The man had admitted to hunting him down, and Arthur knew his type. There was only one way this could end.
"So go ahead, take me in and collect my bounty. I'll be after you again soon, just you wait." Evidently, Black wasn't aware of what he had done, the consequences he had incurred. He still thought Arthur was a Huntsman. The outlaw chuckled darkly at that realization, and closed the distance between the two of them by a few paces. He didn't holster his pistol, and he saw confusion cross Black's face for a moment.
"You keep calling me a Huntsman like that means something. I ain't been to those fancy schools, and I certainly didn't come here to be lectured by some two bit thug. I told you, walk away and you live." Marcus Black's pupils shrank in fear, his breath coming in haggard gasps as he tried to drag himself backward in a futile attempt to escape. Arthur's mouth set in a grim line, his eyes flinty and cold. "You should have walked away." He aimed, and Black raised his hand in desperation.
"No! No, wai-" BANG!
In the relative calm following their fight, the shot felt unnaturally loud. Arthur's round burrowed neatly into Black's forehead, painting the ground behind him in red and gray as the bounty hunter slumped to the ground. His eyes remained open, staring upward at the sky with a vacant stare. Arthur crouched down next to him, watching as the body cooled and a few nervous twitches jerked at the elbows and knees, the body trying to react to the brain's messages without realizing that it was dying. The outlaw waited a few moments more, his nose curling as the telltale sign of loosened bowels told him that Black wouldn't be coming back. He rummaged in the man's pockets, taking care not to get any of the blood on him, and retrieved the man's scroll. Arthur opened it up, and found what he had been dreading. The last thing Black had used on the scroll was a map, displaying the area with a red dot next to a white triangle. Arthur pointed the scroll in the direction of the manor, and the triangle rotated to match him. He tapped on the red circle, and a profile of himself appeared, with a clear picture of him from the side and some basic identifying information.
Arthur dug into his vest and removed his own scroll, thumbing through the options until he found Sienna's contact. He moved to call her, but looked around and thought better of it. He pocketed the scrolls for later, then took off through the woods, back towards the road. Hopefully, Dutch wasn't close by to shoot him in the back.
The trees still echoed with growls and shrieks of Grimm, but there was a much louder commotion in town as people came out to defend the area. He could hear distant gunfire and sirens, and it sounded like a few explosions as well. The Grimm were attacking, and it was all the White Fang's fault. Arthur had no qualms about leaving Black dead in the woods, but there had been innocent people in area of the manor. In the original plan, the White Fang would have helped clean up on the way out. As he sighed heavily, Arthur couldn't help but admit that things had gone wrong.
Adam. Arthur reminded himself. Adam set off the charges early. It was the only explanation for Cain's final cry, and the building coming down around him while he fought with the Schnee heiress. He idly hoped that she had made it back to the protection of town, but he knew full well there wasn't much else he could do for her. Instead, he had to focus on getting back to the White Fang base. Sienna had to know what had happened.
As he trotted down the dark road toward the base, Arthur saw headlights coming toward him. Realizing that he was leaving an area where he took part in a terror attack, the gunslinger ducked into the bushes on the side of the road, leaning up against a sturdy tree. The driver had to have seen him, but he could only hope that they would continue on.
They did not, but Arthur sighed in relief as he saw the insignia of the White Fang emblazoned on the side of the truck. The window rolled down, and Arthur waved at the familiar face. The bull Faunus that had always given him a fair shake.
"Get in, now!" Marcus growled. "This place is about to be crawling with bad guys." Arthur wasted no time, circling around the front to jump into the cab. As soon as the passenger door closed, Marcus shifted gears and backed the truck up, using a small flat area on the road side to perform a three point turn. While he maneuvered, the Faunus threw Arthur a look.
"What the hell happened back there? Adam reported you dead, and said that you were fighting a Schnee." Arthur didn't answer at first, digging around until he pulled out his own scroll and the one he had pilfered from Black's corpse. He held down the power button on his own scroll, then looked over at the one he'd taken. On the displayed map, the red dot turned to gray, and a time stamp appeared above it, indicating the last time his scroll had been on. Whatever was going on, Dutch's new friends had managed to track him through his scroll. He would need to be more careful.
"That little bastard detonated the charges early. It was the last thing I heard Cain say before things went tits up." Marcus finally got the truck moving in the direction of the base, and the hard look he sent Arthur said everything.
"He did what?" Marcus' gravelly voice was low, and Arthur began the tale of what had happened from his perspective. When he finished, thirty minutes had passed, and Marcus had gone quiet. They rode in silence for some time, Arthur resting from his close brush with death at the hands of his former mentor as Marcus chewed on what he'd been told.
"Sienna was on the line with Jacques Schnee himself when Adam got back." Marcus finally said, breaking the silence. "He was willing to give up pretty much the whole company because he thought we had his daughter. Sienna rolled with it, but she flipped her lid when Adam told her his story. She's not going to be happy with him."
"I feel like she ain't gonna be happy, period. I let the girl go, on account of us having bigger problems at hand. Dutch was still willing to shoot her in the back." Despite all that had happened during the last days of the Van der Linde gang, there was still some surprise n Arthur's voice as he recounted his father figure's merciless behavior. Just how far had Dutch fallen? Or had he always been that way, just hiding it underneath the surface? And the biggest question of all, how in the HELL had he come to Remnant? Questions ran through Arthur's mind, but he couldn't come up with any answers.
"Somehow, I'm expecting a shit show when we get back. But for what it's worth?" Marcus growled as he focused on the road. "I'm just glad you made it out."
"Thanks Marcus." Arthur nodded, and together they rode back in silence.
When Arthur and Marcus arrived at the base, it resembled a kicked anthill. White Fang members were running to and fro, passing word of the operation and discussing the outcome loudly. Many were angry, and a few had their hands on their weapons. Marcus brought the truck inside the gates and pulled over, turning it off and opening the door. Arthur dropped down on the other side, and suddenly all activity ceased. The White Fang stared at him, and he could feel their eyes on him from all directions. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but he bore it well enough and started toward the base doors. His progress was blocked, however, when three members of the Fang stepped in his way.
"Where do you think you're going?" The hostility in the soldier's voice was subtle, but present enough that Arthur stopped. The others around him crowded around, and suddenly the White Fang base didn't feel quite so safe anymore. Arthur looked around, trying to find familiar faces in the crowd. Instead, all he found were masks, hidden eyes and mouths set in thin lines. It only occurred to him know that he wasn't familiar with many of the new recruits. Tukson had finally retired, Marcus was still securing the vehicle, and Cain was...gone. That stung, but what really tore him was the fact that Adam had done all of this. He'd blown the charges early, killing Cain in the process, then run back here to spread lies about what had happened. Arthur should have known that the boy would never let go of his hatred for humans and the SDC.
"I need to see Supreme Leader Khan. She needs to know what happened." Arthur yelled loudly. A murmur rumbled through the crowd, hostile and uninviting, and a voice cried out from among the crowd.
"We already know what happened! You ran off with the Schnee and left Cain to die!" Whoever yelled it was angry, and their anger colored the rest of them. The murmur grew into a ruckus, and all around him people were shouting different things at him. He picked out 'Traitor!' and 'Filthy human!', but there were many others. Arthur looked around, shaking his head in denial as he backed up.
"That ain't how it happened. The charges blew early, and I was fighting a damned Huntress! It ain't like I blew it myself!" His defense fell on deaf ears as Faunus around him only grew more and more angry, hurling insults at him as they crowded in. Suddenly,a big meaty arm crossed in front of Arthur, and Marcus stepped forward. His presence cowed many of the encroaching White Fang, his size and position as a senior instructor and foreman among the work crews working in his favor. But the crowd did not disperse.
"Stand aside and let him through. If anyone is going to pass judgment, it will be Leader Khan." Marcus' voice boomed over the din. "Unless you think you're enough to stop us, we're heading to command." The foreman bellowed. The assembled White Fang looked between themselves, indecision staying their hand. Obviously they were still upset, but Marcus siding with Arthur had dulled their edge. The outlaw felt a surge of gratitude toward the large Faunus to his right, but that positive feeling died as a shock of crimson hair approached from within the crowd. The White Fang slowly parted, rippling like water as Adam stepped forward. Arthur's teeth grit together as he glared at the youth, his hands flexing toward his pistol.
"Leader Khan is already aware of what you have done, human. How you left Cain to die." Adam announced spitefully, his mouth upturned in a smirk of contempt. Behind him, Arthur could see a flash of black and white, and he knew that Blake had disappeared into the base. Hopefully, she had enough sense to get Sienna out there before things became violent.
"I didn't leave anyone behind! You blew the damn charges early, while he was still setting them up!" Arthur accused, stabbing his finger in Adam's direction. "I heard him yell your name, and you had the other detonator! It was you!" Arthur took a step forward, forearms corded with muscle as he itched to wring the little shit's neck. But Adam could only shake his head piteously.
"How very human of you, to blame others for your own mistakes. You were fighting a Huntsmen in a mansion filled with Dust explosives. Your fight killed Cain, not me." The irony of his statement was thick enough to choke him with it, but it also shed light on just what he had done. Adam had used the mansion incident to spark his rebellion, and Cain had been the sacrificial lamb. And now Arthur was the scapegoat. The realization made his blood boil.
"You son of a bitch! You're not gonna pin this on me, you hear? I'll take your fucking teeth!" Arthur surged forward, his hands grasping for Adam's throat even as the White Fang members held him back. It took four of the to hold him at bay, and his hat came off in the process.
"ENOUGH!" The declaration came from on high, feminine but clearly in command. Those assembled froze, and everyone looked up at the second floor of the base to see Sienna standing on a balcony, eyes alight like fire as she glared down from the heights. Without warning, she leaped over the barrier and dropped to the ground, landing gracefully in a crouch. As she stood, those assembled made a wide path before her, far greater than that which had been granted to Adam. Those that had been tussling with Arthur released him, allowing the outlaw to fix his vest and snatch his hat from the ground. Silence reigned as the Supreme Leader walked among them, not many able to meet her eyes as she scanned those around her. Sienna's friendship with Arthur was well known, but so too was her dedication to the cause. Everyone was waiting to see how she would handle what many saw as treason beyond even the Lupin brothers.
"Mister Morgan." Sienna called out, though she was only a dozen paces away from him. "Would you like to explain what happened, so that everyone is on the same page?" It was an invitation to absolve himself of their suspicions, to give him the chance to explain himself without showing favoritism. Her presence meant that Arthur could at least say his piece.
"We were clearing the mansion just like we planned. The staff left when we told them to, but apparently the mansion had an unplanned visitor. Weiss Schnee." At the mention of the SDC heiress, more muttering broke out among the assembled White Fang. Weiss had been famous even before her singing career, and no Faunus was ignorant to her connection to her father's company. "I went to get her out like everyone else, and she wouldn't even listen to me. I had to fight her. In the middle of all the ruckus, I heard Cain yell his name." Arthur accused, pointed a finger at Adam as the youth scowled.
"What happened next?" Sienna interjected, lest things devolve into another shouting match.
"The charges blew early. It was everything I could do to tackle the girl before we got sent flying. Next thing I know, we were in the woods a few hundred yards away from the mansion, or what was left of it. The Schnee girl had rolled her ankle, and the Grimm were coming in. Adam and the others had already left." The outlaw sent another scathing glare Adam's way. The boy weathered it easily, his expression unchanging in the face of the truth. "I tried to get her back to civilization but I was attacked by two men. Dutch Van der Linde and Marcus Black." He'd gotten Black's information from his scroll, and held the offending item up for all to see. "Van der Linde and I have some back history, and he must've hired Black to track me down. They were following my scroll."
The only other person in the White Fang that knew the story behind Arthur and Dutch was Tukson, so it sufficed to say that while Sienna's shock was at Dutch being on Remnant, those around her were focused on a different point.
"You let her escape?" Adam demanded, his hand falling to Wilt's hilt as he stepped forward. "One of the Schnees themselves was in your grasp, and you just let her go?!" Around him, the White Fang soldiers built back up into a fury once more, a tidal wave of anger and indignation that the bull Faunus had stirred up.
"You left Cain behind, but saved the Schnee?!"
"Typical humans, putting their own first!"
"You're a disgrace to the White Fang!"
All that and more hurtled at Arthur from all directions, too many voices and accusations for him to keep track of. Beside him, Marcus barked orders for calm, but even the foreman's deep voice wasn't enough to stop the growing storm that was focused on Arthur. Sienna stepped forward, using her presence and rank to keep Arthur from being rushed, but also to make sure that he could hear what she had to say.
"Arthur, I was in talks with Jacques Schnee. He was capitulating on years of discrimination because he thought we had his daughter in our custody. Where is she now?" They had been in talks since the mansion blew? That was news to Arthur. But word gets around fast when you have scrolls.
"Last I saw, she was dodging bullets and Grimm, trying to get to the security forces. I don't know if she made it or not." He hoped that she had, but that probably wouldn't be well received considering how angry those around him where. Sienna cursed quietly, her gaze dropping to the side as she considered the ramifications, unintentional though Arthur's mistake was. Had he brought her here, the White Fang would have made sure she was unharmed, out of decency as well as the value of a trade. Every promise Jacques Schnee made would have been in writing and signed before she had been turned over. And if she was dead, when her father believed that she was with them...
The consequences would be dire.
"Arthur, was it really Dutch? I thought you said that he was in prison?" Sienna asked, not wanting to say more with so many ears around them. Arthur could only nod solemnly.
"It was him, Sienna. Something else is goin' on around here. He had a bounty hunter tracking me, and he tried to shoot the Schnee in the back when she ran. He's worse than I've ever seen him before." Arthur admitted. "It was like Blackwater all over again."
"Well, at least you made it out. The mansion was burned, and those in power know what we are willing to do." Sienna looked like she was about to say more, but a ringing tone from her pocket interrupted her. She pulled the scroll out, clearly intent on ignoring the call, until her eyes widened slightly. It was a small reaction, but for her discipline it was enough to tell those gathered that the call was important. She looked around at the gathered crowd, then gestured toward her left. Those standing in that direction stepped back, allowing her to take the call with relative privacy. A group of White Fang remained between Arthur and Adam, the two men glaring at each other through the huddled bodies. Though the other party's words were muffled and unclear, Sienna's hushed responses were not.
"Mr. Schnee, so glad you could get in touch. Yes, I just heard from my... what? No, that's not what I...of course we were trying to protect her, she's a child!" The color drained from Arthur's face as Sienna continued to argue from the back foot, every other sentence being interrupted as Jacques Schnee let her have it. The conversation continued for nearly a minute, Sienna trying to maneuver in any direction as the SDC patriarch haggled. She paced as she did so, her face tight with frustration as she tried to regain lost ground. Her back stiffened when the call disconnected, and she breathed out a heavy sigh as the scroll fell from her ear. The gathered White Fang waited with bated breath to hear the outcome, but the underlying frustration in Arthur's direction had only built in her absence.
"Jacques Schnee has recanted all of his previous concessions. We have no leverage tonight to convince him otherwise." Her voice was hollow with disbelief, her eyes searching the torn up ground in front of her for answers. Their Supreme Leader had been struck dumb by the loss of a friend and the failure of their operation, but the White Fang would not be collared so easily.
"IT'S ALL HIS FAULT!" it was impossible to tell where the shout came from, but it was echoed one hundred fold a moment later. The crowd surged once again, a sea of gnashing teeth and white masks as they called for retribution. They were angered, perhaps understandably so, but the timing of Schnee's call with Adam's lies made Arthur the most hated man in one hundred feet. He stepped back toward the gate where they had come in, hemmed in as his hand crept toward the Peacekeeper's holster. He wasn't keen on shooting the people he'd considered his comrades for months, but years of racial discrimination and pain railed against him.
And amid it all, Sienna just looked hurt and lost, the operation she had planned and prepared a total failure. If she moved to defend him with her soldiers this riled up, it would only divide the White Fang and weaken her position as the Leader. Adam's treachery had ensured that she was unable to help him without sacrificing herself as well.
"You need to get out of here." Marcus said over the angry crowd. "I can't keep them off of you, and the boy's spun them up into a frenzy. Go, before things get worse." The Faunus stepped forward with his arms out at his sides, trying and failing to settle the crowd down. Arthur's eyes roamed the White Fang, searching desperately for those that he had saved, fought for and defended for the past several months. Instead, he found hostility and anger the likes of which he could have never expected. As much as it pained him to admit it, Marcus was right. It was time to go.
Arthur's shrill whistle cut through the yelling and screaming, and an answering whinny came from behind the crowd. The White Fang on the edge were forced to throw themselves to the side as Famine charged forward, his broad chest and large size pushing through with ease. Arthur didn't even have the horse stop, he just ran forward and drove a boot into a stirrup, hauling himself into saddle even as he spurred the animal on. The crowd detected his escape attempt and moved to block him, but an Aura enhanced horse wasn't going to be stopped easily. As Famine darted out the gate and into the jungle, Arthur cast one last look back. He found a snarling mob chasing him, weapons in hand as they sought to take out their frustrations on him for their failure, their fallen comrade, and everything that had come before. Gone was the camaraderie and the shared vision, replaced with the fires of rage. Adam stood as the others around him rallied, a small smirk on his face as he watched Arthur chased out.
But it was Sienna that hurt the most. She could only watch as he left, once again taking the decision out of her hands and throwing himself to the wolves. Her hand was extended, her expression pleading. He could tell she was saying something, but it was lost in the howling storm around her. It hurt to leave like that, it really did, but Adam's betrayal stung even more. The boy had dug Arthur a grave with his own grievances, and now the White Fang was hurtling on the path to destruction. No longer would they accept a human's help, out of belief that they would be betrayed all over again. And why should they believe him if he told them otherwise?
He was just another human.
Arthur spurred Famine on again, his expression thunderous as he wondered just exactly where everything had gone wrong. For once in his life, he was undeserving of the hate, and that made it even more bitter.
Sienna watched as a dozen soldiers chased Arthur out the gate, waving their weapons around like lunatics instead of the freedom fighters she had trained them to be. Beside her, Adam walked up cautiously, his hand resting on his weapon as he stood a couple paces away. A reactionary distance, in case she came after him.
"What do we do now?" He asked, loud enough for those around to hear. Those that were too far in the back to be of any good chasing down the outlaw instead turned their attention to the two leaders. Sienna turned her burning eyes toward Adam, well aware that he had orchestrated this entire thing. She had no way of knowing if Arthur's tale about Cain was true, but the rest of it – coming back early, telling everyone who could hear that Arthur had left Cain to die, and this final confrontation – had all been to push Arthur out and send the White down the path to true violence. The SDC had made things perfectly clear that property damage alone would not be enough to change things. They'd called her bluff. Adam's skills and influence among the White Fang would be needed now more than ever, and he knew it. Sienna couldn't afford to take him to task so soon after Arthur left, but retribution would come. Her fiery expression promised him that.
"The SDC has made it clear that tonight's efforts were not enough. We train, we drill, and we prepare. Then we will escalate. Marcus!" The man she called grunted in acknowledgment. "With me. I want targets, and I want soldiers. Not these rabid animals I see before me." At her words, the gathered White Fang exchanged worried looks, wondering just what she meant now that their blood lust had died down. Adam watched her retreating back, stone faced for a moment. When he cast his eyes back toward the gate that Arthur had fled through, his smirk returned for but a moment.
Now, the White Fang would truly become the monster that humanity deserved. And Arthur wouldn't be around to get in the way.
The boy got up the same time he always did, bright and early at six. He made his bed, brushed his teeth, and set about getting ready for the day. Wood was chopped, blades were sharpened, and six new fence posts were driven before nine. He stopped for a brief respite and some oranges, wiping his brow with a towel as his silver hair hung down across his face. The boy looked around the small kitchen, surprised that his father had not yet returned. Surprised, but that was it. With his break finished, the boy downed some water and went right back to cutting and driving. Lunch rolled around without incident, and supper saw the sun setting above him as he finished the back half of the property, replacing the old and weathered posts with new ones as he had been told. He wasn't about to work all day and still suffer his father's wrath.
The boy finished his work and had a cold bath, scrubbing the grime from his labors quickly to escape the water as soon as possible. Still no sign of his father, and something similar to worry gripped him. Not for the man himself, of course. Bastard though he was, the boy's father had something that belonged to him, and he was determined to get it back. After a humble supper, the boy went into the forest to find trees worth cutting down for the next day's task. He marked each tree with an 'x' carved into the bark, and had nearly finished locating a dozen stout trees when his scroll chimed. The boy opened the device and saw a notification, opening it up with curiosity. When he read the message, his breath caught. Several thousand Lien had been transferred to his account, along with a short message. The Lien was a welcome sight, more than enough to fix the house up. The message, however, built up a rage the likes of which he had never felt before.
Looks like you never proved yourself, boy. The house is yours. A message from his father, in case the son of a bitch ever died out in the field. Normally he supposed, a son would grieve the death of his father, and he did indeed feel sorrow. Not because the man that had elected to feed and cloth and beat and mock him his whole life had died, but because he had taken his Semblance with him. Always lecturing about how people relied on it too much, a Semblance was a crutch to help you win fights you didn't deserve. The boy had never even discovered his Semblance, and his father had taken it anyway.
Hitting his knees with a savage cry of anguish, Mercury Black drove his fist into the nearest tree, sending birds flying everywhere as his lamentations filled the sky.
Dutch looked down at the ruined corpse of Marcus Black with contempt, keeping well clear of the blood that had pooled beneath it. The man's arms and chest had been savaged by Grimm, but the bullet hole in his head was clearly Arthur's work. When Josiah – no, Isaac – had explained the tenacity and population of the Grimm, he had not been exaggerating. Dutch's long awaited reunion with his wayward son had been ruined by monsters out of a children's book. Dutch was already low on ammunition, and his pistol had been ruined by Arthur's shot. Had he not grabbed the weapon of the dead man before him, Dutch would have likely shared his fate. The leader of the Van der Linde gang patted down the rotting corpse for anything valuable, and was further frustrated to find that Black's scroll was gone. The program that tracked Arthur's scroll hadn't been installed on the device they had given Dutch, forcing him to rely on the bounty hunter before him. It had been a means of leverage for Salem and her cronies just in case Dutch got any ideas to go off on his own, voiding his promise.
"You were a damned fool, Black." Dutch removed his hat in a faux gesture of courtesy. "You and me both." Not only had Arthur escaped before Dutch could exact the pain and misfortune he himself had suffered, but the Schnee girl had gotten away as well. She'd been an unanticipated factor, but her death would have further destabilized the Kingdoms and kept tensions high. From the way Isaac explained it, that was what Salem wanted.
Dutch stepped away from the corpse and opened his scroll, a standard model that he was still learning about. Unlike Arthur, Dutch's mind was a little better suited for figuring out the device's icons and functions. With Arthur in the wind, it would be a while before he would turn up. The man was adept at surviving in the wild, proven by the way he'd stayed away from camp for days, sometimes weeks at a time. No, Dutch would have to seek other targets before he could get his own satisfaction.
The call rang only once before Josiah Trelawney's voice came over the speaker.
"How did it go, Dutch? Is our wayward son finally dealt with?" Dutch snorted at the question, knowing damn well that the man knew more than he let on.
"The bounty hunter you sent with me wasn't up to snuff, Isaac." He stressed the man's real name, a passive aggressive way of reminding Trelawney of the lie he had perpetuated for so long. "We were attacked by those monsters before I could do anything, and Arthur killed him. Now I'm stuck out here in the wilderness." He heard a quiet sigh from the other end, and took a distant pleasure that the man was just as frustrated as he was.
"That was the only opportunity we're going to have for a while, Dutch. Our Lady has new instructions for us both. I'm sending a marker to your map. Be there in two hours, and Hazel will pick you up." Dutch's face creased as he thought about the job to come. Apparently, some young woman was wandering the wilderness with supernatural powers, even greater than those that Summer Rose had brought against him. Salem wanted her located for future plans, and it was Dutch's initiation to get the job done. They'd given him a chance at Arthur, failed though it was. Now he owed them.
"Our Queen seems to have quite a few followers, Isaac. Didn't Tyrian say he had connections in the White Fang?" Dutch had seen the trucks go by after the mansion blew, and Arthur had come from the same job. "It looks like Arthur was working with them for a while. And if he knows Summer Rose..."
"Then they might not have been as forthcoming as Tyrian thought. I will pass along the message. I'm sure they will have a wonderful explanation for him." Isaac said with disgust, and Dutch felt much the same. Tyrian was a dangerous psychopath, his dedication to their Lady the only thing keeping him from attacking the rest of them at random. The scorpion Faunus was the only one Watts didn't needle, and Isaac had warned Dutch about the man before he'd ever met him.
"I'm heading to the pick up point. Just don't leave me out here." Dutch said with a sigh, closing the call without allowing Isaac to respond. Even though the man had saved him from a hanging, the fact that he had been lying to them from the day Dutch had met him still rankled. And not a small lie, like giving a false name, but that he was from another world like this? Whoever this Ozma was to drive him to America, Dutch wasn't sure, but Isaac had used the gang as his hideout when things got tough on this end. It was all still incredible, and Dutch still found himself wondering if he hadn't died in his cell, and this was some strange Purgatory for all his killing and swindling.
Leaving the corpse of his one time comrade behind, Dutch wandered amiably in the direction indicated on his scroll. He kept an ear out for any Grimm or wayward security guards, but his attention was focused on the photos he had saved. According to Watts, they had been taken a week prior to Dutch arriving on Remnant. It was from the city of Vale, where he had found Sean surviving with his metal skull and artificial eye. The photo was from above the street, taken at night in the seedier part of town. Walking out of an alleyway, John Marston could be seen plain as day, and just the sight of him made Dutch's teeth grind. Arthur may have committed the original sin in betraying him, but John had benefited the most from it. With little care for the rest of them, the boy that had already left once had gathered up his woman and child and vanished as Micah lay dying, guarded by a woman straight out of Dutch's nightmares. She was already on Salem's list, or so he'd been told, but Dutch was making a list of his own. John, Arthur, and the others had benefited from betraying him while the rest of the gang had paid the price. As he looked upon John from on high, he knew that he would have his retribution.
"It's only a matter of time."