Snake Skin | John Marston

Bastards Never Sleep

"You think this is a good idea?" Y/N grumbled, trudging through the dense underbrush of Tall Trees behind Sean MacGuire. "Couldn't we have waited until later in the day? Why is it always something offbeat with you?"

"No way, lass! Early bird gets the early worm. Least that's what me da used to say," he shot back, a hint of pride in his voice. He turned to flash her a grin, but she only frowned in response.

"You woke me up for this? For a hike? I ought to just save everyone the trouble and shoot you right here," Y/N quipped, laughter dancing in her tone.

"You wouldn't harm dear old Sean; I know you too well," he teased.

"Your accent is so thick, I might just shoot myself first," she retorted, and Sean let out a hearty chuckle.

"Quit actin' the maggot, before you get us spotted," Sean warned, glancing around before leading her deeper into the trees. They both halted, their senses heightened. The distant sound of galloping hooves echoed through the air, prompting them to duck behind a cluster of boulders. Sean held a finger to his lips, and Y/N rolled her eyes at his theatrics.

Peering cautiously from their hiding spot, they watched five armed riders thunder past, oblivious to their presence. Once the coast was clear, Y/N turned to Sean. "So, what's the big deal?"

"There ain't no big deal," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Just robbin' some mean bastards. You know the type—kicking dogs, robbing old ladies, not payin' for their train tickets. The usual... oh, and of course, killing innocent folk." He led her toward the enemy hideout, a cabin nestled among the trees.

After a tense few moments of sneaking through the shadows, they finally caught sight of the weathered structure.

They crouched behind a stack of logs, Y/N gripping her rifle tightly. "Is this the place? It ain't much to look at. I don't see why so many of 'em would hunker down here," she said, scanning the surroundings.

"Most of 'em cleared out," Sean replied, his eyes glinting with mischief. "But there should still be a few left inside. We oughta check it out. Just swing by, you know? Pay 'em a friendly visit," he added with a crooked smile as he stood up from their hiding spot.

Y/N followed suit, and they crept forward as quietly as they could, luck seemingly on their side. They made their way to the cabin and ducked behind a pair of empty barrels. Sean glanced over at Y/N, shushed her again, and pointed toward the nearest window. It was cracked open, and they could hear two men conversing inside.

"—a few days? It's been a month, Drew. Don't you think it's about time we got outta here?" one of the men grumbled, his irritation evident as he addressed his companion.

"Time? Time to pack up and skedaddle? The boss said he had a big score today and took the rest of the crew with him. We'll be out of this godforsaken hole soon enough. I'm not keen on sticking around either," Drew replied, his tone dismissive.

As the men finished their exchange, one stepped outside, and Y/N caught sight of him, quickly pointing to Sean. Understanding her intent, the Irishman nodded in agreement. They devised a plan: Sean would handle the man outside while Y/N would deal with the one remaining inside.

With silent determination, they nodded at each other and split apart. Sean slipped around the side of the cabin, inching closer to his target, while Y/N took the opposite route, searching for the doorway. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Sean closing in on the man and smirked. But her good mood soured when she saw a boot appear in the doorway. Looking up, she realized the man inside was oblivious to her presence, his attention fixed on Sean, who was now exposed.