NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY: RDR2

33. ONE ACQUAINTED WITH THE NIGHT

"I have been one acquainted with the night.

I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.

I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.

I have passed by the watchman on his beat

And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain."

- Robert Frost

I sat staring blankly into space as Charles recounted the events of the day before. He told me how they thought it was going fine, how they managed to secure the money without much of a hitch thanks to a clever diversion. He told me that the job had begun to feel like a success, until the Pinkertons turned up in their numbers. He recounted how they shot Hosea, how his life ended face down on the cold streets of Saint Denis. How he died as he had lived, fervently loyal to the gang and all those within it.

He told me how they'd had to blow a hole in the wall to get out of the bank, how John had gotten caught and arrested, how sweet young Lenny had been gunned down on the roof. I wanted to ask him to stop, to tell me no more, that my heart couldn't handle it. I wanted to beg him to say it was a lie, that Dutch had sent him here to scare me, that everyone was fine. But I didn't, instead I sat and listened in a trance, letting the grief hit with every word.

He continued, telling me how they had taken refuge through an open window, staying there until the dark of night. When they felt it safe enough, they had made it down to the docks in search of a nearby boat to escape on. Charles had led the law away while the others had boarded as stowaways. He had led them on a wild chase into the swamps, where he lost them before returning to the others at camp.

"Who got on the boat?" I asked quietly, looking down at the ground. I already knew, but hoped so much to be wrong.

"Dutch, Javier, Bill, Micah...and Arthur." He replied, hesitating before the last name. I squeezed my eyes shut, nodding at the confirmation.

"I'm so sorry. Hosea...and Lenny...I don't know what to say." I mumble, looking between their tired faces.

"That's why we came here," Sadie said, it was the first words she had spoken since their arrival, her voice sounded strained. "We need your help."

"What can I do?" I offered without hesitation, at this moment in time I'd of given them my own lungs.

"Hosea and Lenny are still in Saint Denis, in the morgue below the jail. We can't leave them there." She replied, sighing. "We have a plan, but we need your help."

"Course. Where are you going to bury them?"

"We'll find a nice spot just out of the city." Charles said, accepting a bowl of stew from Cripps, who had been silently hovering.

"You can't bury Lenny in Lemoyne." I said quickly, earning perplexed expressions from them both. "It's plantation country, you can't bury him there."

"Hmm... she's right." Charles said, turning to face Sadie, who shrugged.

"Then where else?"

"I know a spot." I jump in, unsure of my offer before I even voice it. "It's just up from here, my family are buried there. I know I'm overstepping, but they are welcome to rest with them."

"It's a long way from Saint Denis..." Sadie said, grimacing.

"Lenny said he wanted to be buried with family," Charles replied, shovelling stew onto his spoon. "It may not be his own, but it's better than none at all."