Arthur's Redemption [Red Dead Redemption 2]

Chapter Four: Horseshoe Overlook

"You are a lot farther along in that journal than I thought. Didn't you just buy it?" Hosea asked, driving their wagon for the first stretch out of the snowy mountains. Both men couldn't wait to be out of the cold.

"Well, a lot has happened since I bought," Arthur gave as a response. "Blackwater, these mountains…" Horseshoe Overlook, the South.

"Good thing we will be near a town. You might need another one," Hosea smiled. Arthur slid his journal back into his satchel, taking note of how stiffly Hosea's hands held the reins.

"Want me to drive, old man?" Arthur said, and took the offered reins as they left the snow behind.

But he forgot about the damned wheel until they were already crossing the stream.

"Shit!" He quickly pulled the horses to a stop as the back left of the wagon dropped. Charles ran over to help Hosea lift the back as Arthur rolled the wheel over and bashed it back into place. When it was done and they were getting ready to leave, he had the feeling of being watched. He looked up and saw three riders. He briefly wondered if one of them was Eagle Flies or Rains Fall, but they were too far for him to be able to tell.

Arthur listened as Hosea explained the tribes problems in the Heartlands, before cutting in. "It's about to get worse. I found this letter in the Cornwall train." He passed it over for Hosea to read. "Looks like Cornwall is looking to take their reservation land as well. What's left of it."

"Not much we can do about it now, unfortunately," Hosea said, passing the letter back.

"Yeah, Cornwall is not an easy man to deal with."

"Didn't know you knew about him," Hosea said. Arthur just shrugged. "Was surprised to see you stand up to Dutch about him."

"I just think you were right. We should lie low, get ready to head west, not east."

"Well, it isn't like Dutch to lie low. I don't know, maybe it's me who changed…"

"Maybe a little, but Dutch has changed too," Arthur said. "That ferry job was a risk, a bigger one than we usually take. You and I had that real estate scam all ready to go, but Micah had him all excited."

Arthur quickly realized that he needed Hosea, if he was going to fix this. With Hosea's help, perhaps he could save Dutch as well as the others. But the past few weeks had done nothing to convince Arthur that he would be successful. He hadn't noticed the first time, but the hints of the madness that had overtaken Dutch, especially in Guarma and Beaver's Hollow, were already present.

The sun was bright in the sky as they reached the valley, and Arthur was soon shrugging off his coat. He remembered this beautiful country well, having hunted and fished up and down these parts. Soon, he was turning the horses up the familiar path to camp.

Dutch was giving a speech, and Hosea was not having it. Neither was Arthur, he couldn't believe how often Dutch seemed to spout as if he were a deity they all worshiped.

Dutch laid out the plan. Make money, head west, buy some land. It was a good plan, except it was Dutch. Arthur was sure the man would never settle down. Even when he had spoken of Tahiti, as their lives fell apart around them, it would never have been true. Dutch wasn't a rancher.

Still, it was good to be back in the Heartlands. And then, Herr Strauss wandered over.

Arthur couldn't relax just yet. He needed to plan.

He dismissed himself to help set up camp, and as soon as that was done, retreated to his tent. He pulled out his journal, paging through his first adventures in Valentine until he came across his writings about Thomas Downes. First priority was to not catch tuberculosis from the man. And make sure that family was alright. Downes probably wouldn't survive much longer, considering how sick he sounded, but Arthur certainly wasn't going to help him on that path. In fact, Arthur planned on not collecting any debt money, and hopefully he could slip enough of his own cash into the collection box to keep Strauss none the wiser until he found a way to stop the man's lending schemes.

Second, he needed to make some money. Fortunately, he wouldn't need to spend days following treasure maps and clues to find everything he was looking for. There were several gold bars hidden around this area, just waiting for him. He also decided to hold on to the majority of his own money, for now. Just until he decided what to do about Dutch.

And third, Micah. He had to keep Micah away from Dutch. If he had to kill him, well, that's what he would do. But for now, because he needed to stay with the gang if he was going to save them, Micah would have to remain alive.

It was a good start. Soon, he would see if it made any difference.

It was good to see the camp mood improving, and Arthur stuck around the area for a few days. He hunted for Pearson, avoided Dutch, and chatted with Hosea. Mary-Beth was starting to write stories again, and she asked Arthur to keep an eye out for a fancy pen. Miss Grimshaw was yelling less. And Arthur soon found himself kicking Uncle awake, itching to head into town. There was a certain bounty he wanted to collect.

The horse he had taken from the Adler farm was good, but he wasn't Dakota, the Hungarian Halfbred he picked up from a Mr. Benedict Allbright. Technically, the man should be grateful that Arthur had bothered to leap onto the mare and chase him down the river that had become the horse's namesake. The fifty dollar bounty hadn't been too bad, either, but Dakota had carried him faithfully until her dying day… and his as well.

But first, he had to save Tilly and Karen. Then, he was chasing Jimmy Brooks to the edge of a cliff. And pen he received was rather nice, so he gave it to Mary-Beth. It wasn't exactly the type she was looking for, but she would make better use of it than he would. They parted ways, Uncle driving the girls back to camp, and he went to join Javier and Charles in the saloon.

"Where's Bill?" he asked after greeting them. Behind them, he heard Bill shouting and then throwing punches. Right, the bar fight.

"What the hell is going on down here?" the mountain by the name of Tommy shouted as he stalked down the steps. Oh, great.

"No, Tommy, stay outta this!" the bartender said, but Tommy set his eyes on Javier, and Arthur knew he would have to fight the man again.

"Hey, stop!" Arthur shouted at Tommy, who was currently beating Javier over a table. Tommy didn't seem to hear him. "That's enough!" Arthur pulled back and punched him as hard as he could, hoping to end this in one swing. It didn't work. Tommy simply turned to Arthur and chucked him over the table.

"Let's just let this go, alright?" Arthur continued, but then Tommy tossed him out the window with a crash of breaking glass.

But Arthur didn't land in the muddy streets of Valentine. He rolled over to a dark sky, hard rock beneath his back, the distant echo of gunshots in his ears.

"Come on, pretty boy…" he heard, and Micah Bell was striding over, that sneer on his face.

"No, not this time," Arthur shouted, blocking the strike before sinking his fist into the side of the rat's jaw. Micah seemed tall, or maybe he was just sicker than he thought. He was keeping up with Arthur, landing more and more blows to Arthur's side, and Arthur wondered how long he could keep this up.

One of Micah's punches sent him staggering back, and then an arm wrapped around his neck from behind. Arthur yelled, sending his elbow back again and again into Micah's side until he finally broke free, before spinning and tackling Micah to the ground. From there he rained blow after blow into Micah's face, watching blood spill from his nose and cover his disgusting yellow mustache, the smile never wavering, even as his eyes lost focus and Arthur went for the throat…

"Stop, stop! Please!" a man shouted and grabbed his arm, and Arthur turned to be rid of whatever lawman or Pinkerton had come to save their rat.

And found himself staring at the sickly face of Thomas Downes.