Strangers By Nature | Red Dead Redemption II |

Chapter Seven | Memory of the Waters

His first thought when he woke was that Arthur wasn't lying next to him anymore. Before he could give in to the rage and hurt, his rational side noticed that the bed was still warm, and he could smell coffee and something cooking.

Arthur hadn't abandoned him, he was making good on his statement of domesticity. Peter stretched, pleased that he was completely recovered, and got out of bed.

The clothes he had been wearing the night before were neatly draped over a chair and he smiled, touched at Arthur's consideration. He got dressed within a few seconds and wandered over to Arthur.

"Mornin' beautiful," Arthur said as he whipped up some sort of breakfast. Eggs. Bacon. And even some bread.
"Where'd you get this stuff?" Peter asked as he sat down,
"Went into town to grab a few things. I think eating somethin' nice would do us some good."

Arthur grinned, then hastily turned back to the stove as something sizzled. "There's coffee." Arthur pointed to the fireplace.
Peter poured himself some, thinking as he sat down and watched Arthur. Arthur had been serious about living with him, was making him breakfast, after making love to him.

This was real. He gripped the coffee cup harder to stop his hands from shaking, focussing on his breathing to steady himself. Then Peter realized that he might be truly happy here.

"You think too much." Arthur sat a plate in front of him.
" Someone has to." He retorted quickly, but his lips tugged up in a smile at Arthur's casual display of affection.

As Arthur sat down across from him, his gaze lingered on the bruises on Arthur's neck, there was no way he would be able to conceal those. Arthur caught him looking, swallowing his mouthful of food before speaking.
"I'll say I got mauled or sumthin."
"Alright." Peter smiled lazily. "Is that the best you can do?"
"I already gave you my best." Arthur leered at him suggestively.
The look went straight to his groin and he almost groaned, somewhat annoyed at how easily he succumbed to Arthur.

Since he was more aroused than irritated though, he favored Arthur with an equally suggestive smirk.
"Hmm, I may require a repeat performance then. Just to confirm you really were giving me your all."
"Oh, yeah?" Arthur rose quickly, grinning widely as he straddled Peter, kissing him hard. "Good thing I called in that we were taking the da-"

The door suddenly rattled with a firm yet calm knock. Cold and calculated as Peter and Arthur looked over.
"What the hell?" Peter asked as he rose to his feet, wandering over to the door he tried to peek out a window. He couldn't see anything. In front of the door is a damn blind spot.
"Hello?" Someone asked from outside,
"Can I help you?" Peter asked as he pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear better.
"My horse is dyin' just over there, you fellers got any medicine?"

The man sounded worried, and Peter felt a twinge of sadness at the image of a horse dying alone.
"Yeah, hold on a moment," Peter said as he grabbed some Reviver from his satchel, Arthur scoffed. "What?" Peter replied with a smile.

Peter sat in front of the door again,
"Syringe is about half empty." He said before fumbling the needle, dropping it to the wooden floor as he bent over to retrieve it. Luckily he did because just as he did a hole was blown through the door. Right where his chest would've been.

Peter screamed, throwing himself back as the man kicked open the door.
"Michael?" Peter asked as he watched a familiar face wander in with a shotgun trained on him.
"Goddamn O'Driscoll!" Arthur shot up from the table with his pistol aimed at the man's head.
"You shoot me and I'll blow his head clean off." The O'Driscoll said with an angry look in his eye.
"Not before I put one right between your eyes." Arthur threatened.

Peter sat on the floor completely helpless, one wrong move and he's as good as dead.
"Then I guess we've got a problem don't we?" Michael said,
"I guess we do," Arthur inched closer to the man, "I don't wanna kill you kid, but I will if you make me."
"You ain't gotta do this," Peter said,
"If I don't kill you both then what?" Michael asked with a confused smile.

"Go home. Pretend you never saw us and we'll do the same." Arthur said. Michael paused for a moment. He didn't want to spare anyone, but he knew damn well if he shot Peter he'd die within a second.

So with his gun still trained on Peter, he slowly backed out of the house, and it wasn't until he was out of sight he took off.
"Jesus Christ," Peter painted as he rose to his feet, "we need to leave. Right now."
"You weren't kiddin' about them looking for us," Arthur said as he retrieved his gun belt, Peter did the same. He stuffed all his things into his satchel and different holsters in a hurry.
"We got lucky that time. Most of the time they won't hesitate to shoot us."

Within a few minutes, they were back on their horses and galloping away from their hut. It's a damn shame too, they liked that house. Had a nice little cozy feeling about it.

"They found us real quick don't you think?" Arthur asked with concern as they brought their horses to a light trollop,
"They have sections they check, houses they check all of them. Especially 'round these parts."

The O'Driscoll's had The Heartlands, Big Valley, Cumberland Forest, and Valentine under their watch around the clock. Those were O'Driscoll territory.

Arthur and Peter could try to escape elsewhere but there are so many gangs all over the damn place. Tall Trees in West Elizabeth is home to the Skinner Brothers. More like animals than humans.

Much like the Skinner Brothers are the Murfree Broods, inbred cave dwellers that eat people up around Annesburg.

Then there's the Anderson Boys who have all but taken over Rhodes and Scarlett Meadows as a whole. They're in a constant feud with the Lemoyne Raiders. Who also want to take over the damn state. The raiders might be the biggest of the gangs. O'Driscoll's and them have fought. Briefly. And the Raiders won.

Then there are some small groups. The Night Folk, which are some scary bastards that pop out in the middle of the night around Lagras. The mob in Saint Denis. The Ku Klux Klan who are all but a shadow of their former hatred. Hooded bastards are pathetic.

"Let's head east. They don't got many lookouts in Lemoyne." Peter said, their horses changing direction as they galloped somewhere safer.

Didn't take long before they were ambushed on the way there, just outside of Emerald Ranch. O'Driscoll's nearly a dozen of them popped out of nowhere. They had a damn tripwire set up, knocking Peter and Arthur's horses over as they fell to the ground.

Peter was grabbed, and Arthur was hit over the head.
"We're gonna have some fun boys." An O'Driscoll said with a sick smile. A sick. Smile.