The Angel Butcher of Rio Bravo: An RDR2 Story

ix. "A whole lot less to lose"

Arthur.

Atop the oil tank, Arthur hoisted his rifle by its forestock and heaved nervous breaths from behind his kerchief, hoping that the train would stop. Momentarily blinded by its headlamp, he only heard an engineer shout, "What's going on?" before being subdued by Charles, rushing him like a ghost from the treeline.

Arthur hopped down from the tank to make for the first-class carriage, the paused train hissing pleasantly, Sean taking care of the second engineer and already running his mouth at a pace that he thought disagreeable.

But John awaited him in the carriage, and for all that he found detestable in John since he'd returned to the gang, he trusted him on a job. As Arthur ascended the stairs to the carriage and slid open the cabin door, John looked over his shoulder, an uncharacteristic nervousness in his eye, before turning back to the terrified passengers and shouting: "Everybody stay calm and nobody'll get shot! Let's go: money, valuables, everything you have!"

Arthur wondered briefly about John's nerves - was he still shaky on his feet since the wolves, maybe? - until their true reason revealed itself. There she was, lit in the treacly glow of the carriage lamps, in a blue travelling outfit trimmed in black velvet, a blue hat pinned to her white-blonde hair. It was far enough away from her usual riding pants and button-down shirts that he hadn't recognized Tine immediately.

She stood from her bench seat and screamed at an advancing Arthur, hitching up her skirt and running to the end of the carriage. What the hell is she playing at? He thought, especially as three men rose from their seats to challenge him and John, suddenly outnumbered. But Tine swivelled around at the man closest to her and pulled her revolver on him, leaving Arthur and John to handily subdue the other two with threats or punches; whatever was needed.

Tine approached Arthur and cocked her head to the side so he could see her wink from under the brim of the hat. "That's about all the heroes in the car; should be easy pickings, now," she whispered, exiting out of the rear door, ostensibly to cause more mayhem while dressed like a girl going to church.

Arthur turned to John, scowling, and the younger man shrugged in response. "You brought Macguire," he said, precautioning any outburst, and there wasn't much more Arthur could say after that. Plus, he begrudgingly saw the beauty in her ruse as the rich passengers of the car handed over their valuables without much more than a snotty whimper. Hell, he'd been half-inclined to turn his gun on John before he'd realized it was her, so convincing was her scream, her little outfit.

They were about three-quarters of the way through the car and still no signs of a passenger-wide revolt - again, Arthur reluctantly thought to himself, likely thanks to Tine - so he signalled to John that he'd check the next car, and headed out the rear door, himself.

He nearly ran right into Sean, who was standing in front of a closed car, mildly perplexed. "Pretty sure this is the baggage car, big man."

Arthur scoffed. "What, you ain't even looked in there yet?"

Sean smiled. "All in good time." He strode forward and went to open the door, only to have a man rush him from the other side, whom Arthur dispatched quickly. A few more guards from within the car revealed themselves, all meeting their untimely end from Arthur's gun. Sean reeled in place, holding his head where it had clunked against the door.

"I'm gonna look," Arthur said, shouldering past him into the car, stepping over a man's corpse to do so. "You cover me."

"I'll do my best, Arthurs - seeing as there is about six o' yous."

Once inside, Arthur was confronted with the trappings of immeasurable wealth; the constant salve to their life of stealing.

"Aw, I hope I don't have a lump on my pretty head," Sean lamented from outside the car.