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Chapter 27
Despite all of the good things that have been happening in life lately, Arthur couldn't help the pit churning in his stomach that something bad was gonna happen. He knew that bank robbery and the train one before it would come to shoot them in the ass sooner or later. Be it the Pinkertons, the Bureau, or anyone else, it was coming.
He had made sure to check on Hosea, Kieran, Lenny, and Sean. All three of the younger men seemed to be getting close and often found bonding with each other. Unlike Sean, Kieran enjoyed the idea of reading and had been trying to convince Sean to read the bloody book with Lenny, in which Sean would make comments about "the false Irishman". The O'Driscoll captured weren't squealing 'bout anything, even though he was slowly losing muscle mass and becoming more and more hungry, he still held loyalty to his dead leader, viewing him as a god.
Arthur didn't personally approve of his treatment, and would rather just put the poor bastard out of his misery, but unfortunately, he had no choice.
If Arthur defected now, he would be rounded up shortly by the Pinkertons. He was obviously well-known by them, as he was easily recognized by Milton and Ross when he went fishing with Jack.
He couldn't go back West, as trying to cross the Upper Montana would be suicide. So just like the gang, his only real option would be to head East. Out of his element, without anyone to watch his back. Unless he snuck out to Europe or South America or something, and there he'd be even more out of his element, sticking out like a sore thumb.
As for the gang, Dutch's descent into madness would probably happen even faster. Arthur saw how losing Hosea affected Dutch, and losing Arthur would have the same effect, especially since it would be Arthur leaving by choice, which Dutch would probably view as a betrayal, especially if it happened later. Micah would quickly move to fill the vacuum left by Arthur, and drive the gang into chaos even quicker. Arthur was instrumental in finding the locations of Clemens Point, Shady Belle, and Beaver Hollow, so if he had not there, it would have been more difficult for the gang to find hiding places. They probably would not have lasted past Saint Denis.
The temptation did come multiple times every few days, but his loyalty to his friends, to save John, Sadie, Charles, Lenny, Sean, and all others from the fates that would await them if they'd followed Dutch, crushed that thought. Ultimately, he didn't have certain alliances yet with anyone aside from Kieran. Marston was starting to make efforts at least to be more supportive of Jack and Abigail. He had to tackle everything slowly, or else, Dutch may do something worse than last time.
As he pushed himself up, Arthur'd noticed Sadie. More and more. She had usually only seen around Pearson's Carriage. Lately, she had taken part in camp chores more actively and greeted Arthur more enthusiastically. She was sometimes left out by other women in the camp, however, as she never took part in their singing at night and rather sat behind the wagons alone.
"Oh, hey, Arthur!" Karen greeted, a smirk across her lips as she left the tent.
"Karen, will you happen to know where Mr. MacGuire may be right now?" Arthur asked.
"Sleeping."
While slightly uncomfortable with the conversation, Arthur couldn't help the amusement that overcame that when it came to Sean and Karen's relationship. One wouldn't think they would be able to get together, yet they were. He'd seen it after Sean's death when part of Karen died, and she couldn't take it anymore, and milked out the grief with the call to liquor, not even stopping one time. Like with Molly, he'd ignored her.
Goddamn it...
"What are you doing up now?" Arthur quipped good-naturedly.
"I can't stay in my bed all day." she shrugged. "For someone so active, Sean takes hours to wake." Karen replied sheepishly.
"You must have made him really tire out." Was Arthur's last response before the end of the conversation as she'd joined the other women, currently Tilly and Mary-Beth, at the table after grabbing a bit of stew. She always had a good relationship with both Mary-Beth and Tilly, and the trio bonded over their shared responsibilities and subordination to Ms. Grimshaw. Of the three, Karen is the most negative towards Grimshaw. She often ridiculed and insulted Grimshaw, sometimes even to her face even now, and after Grimshaw killed Molly for her apparent betrayal of the gang, Karen became downright hostile towards Grimshaw, severely criticizing her for the murder.
Arthur stared at them for a long moment; another reminder of how everything was at stake. The friendship, the laughing, the smiles at one another as if everything was going to be okay. He shook his head. Three souls Arthur also wanted to save.
"You seem stressed out, Arthur," a voice spoke in concern, grabbing his attention. Lenny. For someone so young, he was so perceptive and smart. Smarter than Arthur could ever be. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, kid, how have you been?" Arthur inquired, noticing his healing facial expression. His scars have healed in the past couple of weeks, though it required minimum movement, 'cause Strawberry really did hurt. Basically, he was relegated to the same Marston before they came to Horseshoe Overlook. Goddamn Micah...
"I might be able to do guard duties tonight," Lenny shrugged his shoulders, "gotta see what Hosea and Dutch thinks."
Arthur snorted, "I doubt Hosea was happy when you went on chasing our favorite Irish all over Valentine." he remarked dryly.
"That's an understatement," an ounce of snark poured into his voice. "I can't help myself, Arthur, I told him I'll have him reading. I think I'm getting through."
"Heh, the boy's an idiot. You probably got so much work to do." Arthur commented, clapping Lenny on the shoulder in false camaraderie.
Lenny's face became more severe.
"Boy, you're okay?"
"...Can I... can I talk to you for a moment?" Lenny asked after hesitation.
Arthur nodded.
"Not here." The boy finished.
Following Lenny behind, the darker-skinned man pulled up a crate as Arthur sat down at a chair next to a small table, and began to whisper. "I need to tell you something, Arthur."
Arthur nodded. "Sure, kid."
"Promise this won't reach Dutch."
"I promise."
Lenny looked like he was considering his next words. "Well, I don't like Dutch's Evelyn Miller obsession on an academic level and on the level of being the child of a former slave given the context of what Miller writes."
Arthur honestly didn't know what to feel 'bout that.
Lenny wasn't done. "Dutch's ideal world is probably one where he is doing good for the people, and the people have also decided to make him their ruler or grant him special privileges, and he unquestioningly rules. I have been thinking since we got to Colter and you're the only one I can trust."
"...Yes?"
Lenny looked hesitant again as if everything weighed on this. "Sometimes, I feel like, when he implores faith, that's just a request to not overly question him or his methods."
"You are a bright kid with a long future in front of you," Arthur responded. "Don't die for Dutch. For any of us fools."
"No, no, I'm here to stay," Lenny dismissed, still loyal to the gang. "But... I don't like seeing Dutch, Micah, and Mr. Escuella spend as much time with each other as they do now. I know he's infuriated with you after you'd called him out 'bout Blackwater, but you have been at his side for twenty years. He should be going to you first. Surely, that all means something."
"Micah is trying to cause trouble," he agreed, truly touched that Lenny could relay this to him.
"Mr. Dutch is a great man," Lenny nodded slightly, "but he gotta remember who's been by his side since the beginning. Whatever happens, if Dutch cut you loose, he'll have to cut me loose too."
Those words brought a warm feeling to his heart. "Thank you, Lenny."
"Thank you for this conversation, Arthur, I appreciate it."
Now that the conversation was over, Lenny and Arthur went their separate ways. While the terrible feeling abated slightly, Arthur couldn't feel the borderline apprehension pounding in his chest.
Another few days proceeded.
Arthur helped with the chores, feeling his apprehension growing. Moving maize sacks. Carry hay bales. Chopping firewood. Tap water into the wash basin. In his haste to distract himself, Arthur almost became lost in his thoughts. Almost.
"Hey, big man," Uncle spoke, actually startling him. "I'm worried. Really worried. 'Bout you."
Arthur sighed, shrugging aside any concern to come off as nonchalance. "What are you talking 'bout, Uncle?"
Uncle placed his hands on his shoulders and looked at him with actual concern. "You have been looking concerned all throughout the morning. You know, I know we aren't entirely close, but I... ain't dumb, Arthur. I know you are always working hard for the betterment of the gang. It's okay to struggle. To talk it out. You and Dutch ain't been the same lately."
"I'm fine," Arthur lied, standing up, feeling his hands becoming sweaty. Hosea. Sadie. Kieran. Now, Uncle of all people? He had to get away from them. Away from here. Some time to cool down, to keep control, as things have been going what mostly one could refer to as good lately, Arthur Morgan would be back to the controlled man he always was.
This wasn't without his lapse of control at times.
Unfortunately, unlike Hosea in Colter, Uncle wasn't standing down.
His face contorted into a sharp frown. "Enough of that shit, Arthur. You don't have to keep things from everyone here. We are a family."
"Enough with that shit, Uncle." When did any of them realize that Arthur would be fine? Everyone was acting as if he was a child who needed to be watched. He was burdened with the knowledge of what happened.
"C'mon, Arthur, you aren't yourself."
"I'm trying to protect my family," Arthur scowled, wondering why he couldn't just bark into the older man's face 'till he went away.
"You're a good man, Arthur Morgan, don't-"
Suddenly, a sound so familiar went off. It was the same sound Arthur heard for years. The same one that this life often brought. And the next moment, Uncle slumped over, his hands now wrapped around his legs as if trying to bring himself back to the surface.
No!
No!
No!
His chest clawed for air. Uncle!
Uncle!
Uncle!
Uncle!
Uncle!
Quickly, Arthur dropped to his knees and crouched for Uncle. No! No! No! Surely, this couldn't happen! Surely, Uncle couldn't die!
After all, Uncle made it last time!
"I'm hit..." Uncle managed weakly.
"Goddamn it!" Arthur shouted.
"Arthur! Arthur! What the hell happened?!" Marston shouted, coming to his side, along with Lenny, Sean, Kieran, and Javier.
When they took in the wounded form of the camp's jester, all of them looked with surprise.
"Caught me in the goddamn knee..." Uncle said dryly, still pained.
Thank goodness...
Arthur felt nothing but horror. Terrible, numb-aching guilt. And Uncle was standing right in front of him, took a bullet for him without even knowing it.
Dutch charged in the direction of the tent, revolvers gripped in his hands. Micah Bell stood loyally at his side. "What happened?!"
"Dutch, someone shot Uncle!" Arthur managed, looking at his former parental figure, mournful, hurt, a stab so deep, so painful.
"Oh, goddamn it!" Actual concern was in Dutch's voice. "We need to find where that shot came from!"
As if on cue, another shot went off, not connecting with anyone else. Everyone tensed up and dashed for cover, grabbing their closest weapons in sight. Arthur was the only one who didn't move, his hand on his chest, willing his body to move quicker, faster! Do something! But what could he do?!
"Look! In the trees, compadre!" Javier hissed, pointing out to the shadows swarming around them, weapons loaded. What the hell?! Who would attack them now?!
"O'Driscolls!" Lenny answered that question. The young man swore as he held his sniper rifle, and Arthur only glimpsed up to spot more movements in the tree, sounds of gunfire. "How did they find us?!"
"No time for questions! C'mon! Arthur! Hide!" Dutch commanded, now ducking behind cover near a wagon with some crates on top, peeking out. It only occurred to him at that moment that he was the only one not in cover, and when that feeling reached his brain, his first instinct was dragging Uncle to safety, wondering.
What the hell was...
HAPPENING?!