The wild, wild West (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

CHAPTER 23 - A good ol' shootin'

I kneeled next to Arthur and Kieran, my fingers wrapped tightly around Arthurs bow. He had said he was bad with it and gave it to me. I wondered if it was actually because of his freshly injured shoulder. Now we were waiting for our enemies. Our prey.

Kieran had summed them up pretty accurately when we got here. „Drunk, armed, wary of strangers." Pretty much the same as us, excluding the drunk part, of course. Although I wasn't to sure if Bill was actually sober.

„Someone's comin'." Bills hushed voice redirected my attention to three men that appeared between the trees. They were oblivious to our presence and the loaded bows and drawn trowing knives. My eyes narrowed a little when I raised the weapon, my fingers tightened around the string, ready to pull back. Kieran let out a small whimper, not loud enough to disturb the men. John had clasped a hand over his mouth, his pistol pressed against the other mans temple. Smart move, John.

One of the men left the group and disappeared behind some bushes for a second, then he appeared again, out of sight for his companions. Now I pulled the string back and tilted the bow slightly downwards. The arrow pierced the side of his head and he tumbled against the tree, then he went down. The lessons with Charles had payed off.

Meanwhile, Arthur and Bill had left our cover and snuck their way up to the remaining two, their knives drawn. They finished them off silently, leaving just two corpses and a pool of blood that no one would notice until it was to late. My fingers were itching for some action, but I was still reluctant, worried about Colm.

And then gunshots broke the treacherous silence. Men screamed, panic and confusion filled the air. I dropped to the ground when a bullet sizzled past my head. As soon as it looked clear, I jumped of the ledge and sprinted behind a big tree trunk. Another bullet missed me narrowly. I reached for my Cattleman. I wasn't sure who had started the fire in the first place, the forest that had been silent and peaceful was now a bloody mess.

Bill and Arthur were advancing quickly, each bullet they fired hit a body, not necessarily killing their victims, but enough to keep them down for a while. Men with a bullet in their stomach rarely fired another shot.

I leaned out of my cover and fired tree bullets at the same guy. He dropped and I followed the other two with my head lowered. The shooting felt like a haze, a blur of loading, aiming, firing, jumping, running. We advanced into the camp, two men left, one. Then we were through. In front of us sat the shabby wooden cabin like a dark, lurking creature.

The forest was eerily quiet without the gunshots and the men yelling orders and suddenly I was afraid to step any closer to the cabin. I didn't let my hesitation show trough, of course. My fingers tightened around my revolver and I stepped over the tree trunk I had used as cover. Slowly, my companions appeared from behind trees and boulders, their weapons still loaded and ready to shot any survivors. We invaded the empty camp, ready to face Dutchs biggest enemy.

Arthur was the first to reach the cabin with his hand resting on the handle of his revolver. And then everything happened to fast. The crack of wood as the door barged open and slammed against the wall, Arthurs gasp as his back connected with the ground, the angry yell of the man that stumbled out with his gun raised. For a very long second, my body was frozen, unable to defend him or yell for help. I could only watch how the strangers finger tightened around the trigger. Then my body moved again, painfully slow. I pulled the revolver up, tried to aim.

Kieran was faster than me. His bullet pierced the mans abdomen. He dropped the gun and spat some blood on the ground. The look on his face wasn't one of terror, he looked rather surprised. Then I ended his struggle with a bullet to the head. Arthur, who had tried to get to his feet plopped down again with a heavy sigh.