Red Dead Redemption 2 - Unofficial Novel Adaptation

The Aftermath of Genesis

There was a low cough erupting from the fat and balding man sitting by the fire and rack the gang had set up for cooking. He was sitting in a room that had one wall completely open to the outdoors, but he was sheltered here while trying to make what little of a meal he could. This man was Simon Pearson, the camp cook. It was through the open wall that Arthur began to approach him. Pearson stood up to face his traveling companion.
"We're gonna starve to death up here, Mr. Morgan." It was a cold greeting, matching the quality of the weather outside and the frost coming off of his stale breath as he spoke. He looked back towards the glowing embers of the fire and rubbed his hands near them, trying to regain some warmth.
"We're okay..." Arthur assured him while stepping towards the flame himself. Some small traces of snow were remaining on the cowboy's hat and a beard was growing in as he remained stranded up here. Pearson wasn't buying Arthur's lack of concern though, he huffed, sputtering under his thick moustache as he walked to check the larder.
"We have a few cans of food and a rabbit, for what, ten, twelve people?" His voice was gravelly and extremely  rough as he took up the aggressive tone with Arthur, who had taken noticed and started to look at the camp cook. "When I was in the navy-"
"I-I do not wish to hear about what you got up to in the navy, Mr. Pearson." He interjected, while walking towards the large man. Mr. Pearson had started cleaving up pieces of the rabbit on an old wooden counter left in here, he seemed to have no intention of honoring Arthur's request.
"We were stranded at sea, for fifty days." He dramatically raised his hand towards Arthur.
"And you unfortunately survived..." Arthur retorted.
"When we ran away from Blackwater, I wasn't able to get supplies in." He picked up a big iron stirring pot and started walking back towards the cooking fire. But Arthur was following behind, not letting the cook use their situation as an excuse for not doing his part.
"Well when government agents are hunting you down... sometimes shopping trips need to be cut short. We'll survive... we always have... and if needs be, we can eat you, you're the fattest." His comment seemed to have angered Pearson further as he grabbed utensils from the counter and went back to the fire, pointing outside with his big ladle as he walked.
"I sent Lenny and Bill out hunting and they found nothing." Charles Smith joined them at the fire now, ironically trying to warm his burnt hand up as he heard Arthur bite back with another witty remark.
"Well, Lenny's more into book learning than hunting. Bill's a fool. Unless those mountains are full of game that wanna read ain't no wonder they found-"
"Enough of this." Charles intervened. His voice was quiet and low, but packed serious weight where it counted. "We'll go find something. Come on, Arthur."
"Wait a second, hold on." Pearson jogged over to the counter and grabbed a jar he had placed off to the side. "Here... You're gonna need something to eat out there." Arthur rolled the jar around in his hand, an inspection to find out what it was in there.
"'Assorted, salted offal'. Starving would be preferable." He joked while he put it away for later.
"Come on, let's go." Charles started to walk out but Arthur paused him.
"You can't go hunting. Look at your hand."
"I can't stay here listening to you two. Look, if there's game in those hills I'll find it..." He held his hand out to the wild. "And you can kill it."
"You need to rest, Charles." He tried to insist.
"You think this is rest? Come along." He walked off towards the horses. Arthur just sighed while Pearson coughed behind him as he realized, there was no talking him out of this. The horses were just outside, he'd have to go with Charles just to make sure everything went okay. Pearson sat back down, wheezing and coughing to himself and Arthur met Charles by his horse. When Arthur got back outside, Charles was pulling a wooden bow off of his shoulder, and then he handed it over to his hunting companion.
"Here, you take this. I can't use it and you'll have to."
"Oh, you're joking..." In the past whenever Arthur had tried hunting with a bow, it had never gone well. Some fault had lied with his stance, while others with him being too rigid.
"Use a gun, and we'll scare off every animal for miles around. You're never too old to learn, I imagine. Come on, this way." With both Charles and Arthur saddled up, they started to ride out of camp in the direction of deer, or whatever else they could find.
"How are you holding up, Charles?"
"I'm okay, apart from this hand. Stupid mistake."
"Still bad?"
"It will be fine in a day or two. I just can't pull a bow right now."
"I sure hope I can. I never really got the hang of it."
"You'll be fine." Arthur exhaled, not being sure whether or not Charles was right, he thought it best to change the subject.
"So... You reckon we're gonna find something to kill that ain't an O'Driscoll?" Charles chuckled slightly.
"There’s meat up here for sure. Pearson doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Now the weather’s eased off a bit, they’ll be needing to feed." Charles began to lead them down towards the river so he could get his bearings before they started heading downstream even further on the path they had been following. "We’ll head up this way. Find some higher ground."
"Been a wild few days alright. That ride north from Blackwater, getting stuck in this storm, going out for John, that thing with the O'Driscoll's." Arthur recounted, a lot really had been going on.
"You've had a lot put on you. I wish I could have done more."
"I didn't mean it like that, just... a lot to think back on."
"I still don't really know what happened on that boat."
"Me neither... well, Javier told me a bit, but... it sure weren't good." Arthur informed him.