Wanted (Jack Kelly x Reader)

.6.

--ʏ/ɴ--

𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 three days after our little 'heart-to-heart' when it happened. When my illusion fell to pieces, cut up just as neatly as fabric shears through calico. 

We'd fully joined up with the other company now, both of our numbers dwindling enough with people turning back that it was beneficial for all. The problem with this was that the food was dropping. Somebody was stealing extras, and we'd no doubt in our group it was one of theirs. But the other group was hard, miners and trappers and men with no other option that were heading west with none of the glamour we deceived ourselves with. And the captain wasn't about to make them leave (even if he could), not with the extra protection they'd provide as we journeyed further into potentially hostile territory. Like it or not, we were stuck with them. Which meant armed guards on the food wagon, and less sleep for everyone in the camp. 

The grass had begun getting sparser as well, at an alarming rate. Some of the men were talking, saying that there were buffalo nearby. I'd no trouble with believing it. The little grass that remained was picked over by the oxen and horses until the ground was completely bare. We couldn't keep going on like this. Which was why they-- they being the captain and some of the men from the other company-- decided it was due time to go hunting. 

A few of us from each group were rounded up-- me and Kelly among ours. I'd no clue why he was included, as he could barely hit the broad side of a barn, but it wasn't my place to question. We'd ridden for near an hour ahead on the trail when we came upon them. The herd stretched out for what looked like miles, and suddenly I'd no problem believing that the grass shortage had come from them. 

The 'plan' was to stampede the herd away from our path, so they were travelling parallel, while taking out one or two for food and pelts. So we skirted around until we were lengthwise to the buffalo on the edges. And then the chaos erupted. The men began hollering, charging the buffalo and firing wildly. Into the herd, up, any which way, their sole goal to get them moving. The horses began to shy, the noise and tumult too much. Lady, my mare, held steady. But the others bucked wildly, and some even looked about to be thrown. Shots continued to ring out-- surely we'd wasted enough ammunition by now-- one, two, three animals went down, and then they were running. A moving, roiling mass of hair and horns, most traveling away. But there were a few who broke off, heading straight for our group. 

I called a warning, wheeling Lady around and taking aim, my hands shaking only slightly on the rifle's barrel. I brought down one, before it could get close enough to anybody, but then I heard Kelly's shout and looked behind me. Another bison, young and frightened but plenty large enough to do some damage, was barreling straight towards me. My fingers fumbled to reload, but I was out of bullets-- I'd only had a few, and not seen the need to fill the barrel with so many others along. Cursing my lack of foresight, I spun, urging Lady on, knowing we weren't going to make it out of the way in time-- 

Two shots, from two different men. I'd no way of knowing who or which, only that one had brought down the bison... and one had, tragically, missed.

I buckled forwards, my hand flying to my side instinctively. It came away wet with blood, and I let out a gasp, hanging onto the pommel of the saddle for dear life with one hand, the other sagging to try and stem the flow. 

And then Jack was there, hollering for someone to ride back and fetch the captain, the only man with medical training among us, helping me down from the saddle, his hands awkward and hesitant as he tried to hold me in such a way to not jostle the wound. 

I flickered in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes-- they'd brought me to a parcel of shade, between a few trees. Lady was tied next to me, and I was still in Jack's arms. Then the captain was there, so it must have been longer than a few minutes. How long had it been? They were muttering, whispering, and none of it sounded good, but Jack was still holding me and murmuring reassurances in a hushed, low voice... 

They were going to find out, I knew they were, but the pain in my side burned so brightly I couldn't even bring myself to care. Looking up at Jack, I tried to communicate the explanation he needed to give them, but I wasn't sure if he understood before my eyelids drooped and I passed out.