Cause and Effect

Chapter 24

gibel [gēbəl]

(n). death, destruction, ruin,

//--//--//

Dutch took it to the del Lobos. 

It's something, watching the fall of your life, and knowing there's nothing you can do about it. Arthur didn't sleep much in the days leading up to Dutch's hair-brained decision, he couldn't. Spent that time, talking to Sadie, or Abigail, tried to talk to John, but he had sequestered himself away at the edge of camp, rifle stuck in his arms. Talked to Hosea too, tried to get him to reconsider the focus that he had about the finality of his life, but Hosea just smiled at him, like he knew something Arthur didn't. 

Dutch came storming out of his trailer for the first time in a long time, and Micah was behind him, hands stuck in back pockets, eyes shadowed under the brim of his hat. 

"Been talkin' to Micah, and Mac." And maybe it wasn't even Micah that sold Dutch on storming Montez and his gang, maybe it had been Mac. "We owe it to Mac to get revenge, we owe it to ourselves to get some goddamn respect 'round here. Then, we can get the hell out. But not before."

"We do?" Arthur had said, and he couldn't recall a time in his life that he'd questioned Dutch so much, and he knew Dutch couldn't either. "We owe that, do we?"

"You do," Dutch growled, and Arthur shook his head. Mac was hidden in the shadows, head ducked low on his chest, fingers deftly filling clips and sliding them under his borrowed vest. He knew. 

Hosea stood next to Arthur, and Arthur could feel the last crack in the straining relationship between the three of them break and shatter away. It would never go back to warm summer days, and free back road races, and ranches and heart-slamming light-hearted adventures. This was now, and Dutch was at the center of it all. 

"Don't have to do this Dutch," Hosea said softly. He swung an arm around, at all the men and women that had slowly begun gathering. "They all deserve to live, so do you."

Eerily reminiscent of the conversation he had with Arthur. 

"We deserve this." Dutch said quietly. 

Hosea watched his face, before turning away. "'m goin' with you, Dutch," and there was a pain in his voice that made Arthur want to cry. "I'll be right beside you, jus' like I've always had, but--" he laid a hand on Arthur. "Not everyone's gonna stick next to you, y'know."

He was telling Arthur to leave again, to run if things got bad, and Arthur wished he was sixteen again. 

 "If they ain't next to me," Dutch said, and his voice peaked. "Then they were never with me to start with." He hefted a rifle to his shoulder, and shouted, addressing the group that had surrounded them. "We're gonna take it to Montez, show 'em that Dutch Van der Linde and his men aren't to be fucked with. Round up every last bit of firepower, gents, we are going to rain down hellfire on those sons of bitches."

The group scattered, following after Dutch's orders, and left Hosea, Arthur, and Sadie standing, looking after Dutch. Hosea sighed. "Sadie?" The question was heavy in his voice, and she nodded. 

"You don't gotta worry, Hosea, I'll take care of things here." She patted his arm, lingering only for a few moments, before drawing close to Arthur. "I reckon if things go south, we make our way up the Midwest, and cut west from there. We get split, I'll find a way for you to find us, but that'll be the general path, okay?"

"Yeah, that's good. I'll pass it on to Charles, and John, make sure they know."

Sadie sighed, and stuck her thumbs in her jeans. "Kieran too, and Lenny. They're good kids, don't deserve this shit no more."