No Time To Die- ARTHURMORGAN x O/C

Arthur's Journal Entery 6

               I'm not sure I even know where to start. I was just reminded once again of how quickly everything can go to hell, how easily plans unravel. Just when we thought we had a grasp on the situation with Eagle Flies, everything came crashing down around us. What was intended as a trap for the army became a disaster, nothing more than a pathetic display of our desperation. Charles and I did what we could to get him out of Fort Wallace. We had set our sights on showing the Army just how wrong they were to think they could just walk over the Native Americans, but Dutch's plan fell apart like so much sand.
The ambush was meant to be a statement, a bold show of strength, but instead, it was a mess. A testament to how far we've strayed from who we were. I keep telling myself it's not just Dutch; it's the whole gang. We're falling apart at the seams, and there's no patching it up this time.
Eagle Flies... he's got so much courage, fighting for his people against a tide that seems insurmountable going against his Father's wishes. I admire him for his bravery. Hell, I wish I could muster half his conviction. But I've seen what the Army can do. These men are relentless, and their bullets don't discriminate. I've felt that sting, seen the faces of men I once called brothers turned into corpses by the likes of them.
And then there's Claudia. She's been rising through the ranks of this gang. I watched her transform from a stubborn, sarcastic girl with an handy grip on a revolver into a uneasy presence, someone who seems to be torn apart by this gang, she can't decide who's side to be on her Father's or ours. She's found a true partner in Sadie. Together, they look like they're ready to rain hell upon the O'Driscolls, and part of me—the worried, protective part—finds it hard to reconcile that shift.
Claudia and Sadie... their quest for revenge is going to consume them. I remember not so long ago when we were all in it together, finding our footing through hardship. Now it seems revenge has become their only motivation, their only anchor. It's one thing to seek justice for what happened to the women and the families torn apart by that ruthless gang, but it's another to risk everything for it.
I can already see the fervor in Claudia's eyes when she talks about finishing off the O'Driscolls. It scares me just as much as it inspires me. She has this fire, this desire to protect those she loves, but it's a dangerous line to walk. I've been there, too—caught in that whirlwind of vengeance that can blind you to everything else.
What's truly troubling is the impact that Dutch's decisions have had on us. How long before it gets to a point that the gang splits? I feel it in the way people have been looking at one another lately, whispers in the shadows. People are questioning Dutch's sanity and direction, wondering if we're all so loyal that we're blind to our own demise. I've seen those whispers boiling over into arguments after a drink, fingers pointed and fears laid bare even Miss Grimshaw is questioning him as we are running out of money.
Even Charles, always the voice of reason, had a hard time standing behind Dutch's latest plans. He and I spoke about it briefly as we rode out to rescue Eagle Flies. It was a rarity for him to express doubt, and yet he couldn't help but feel that Dutch was leading us down a dark path—one we might never return from. He spoke passionately about the need for unity and understanding with the Native Americans.
I couldn't disagree. In my heart, I know he's right. If we continue to operate under the impression that we can conquer everything, we'll find ourselves in ruins.
The allure of what Dutch is proposing with Eagle Flies' people is seductive to him; it's an idea that he thinks will redeem us. He believes that allying with the tribes will give us strength against the Army to create a distraction to leave or get money. But what does he know about the politics of it all? What does he truly understand about the suffering of those who have lived it?
And that's another concern. Claudia has brought up this idea of deception within the camp, her faith wavering. Just the other night, she asked me if I thought Dutch would ever betray his own. I brushed it off, but her words spoke volumes.
I can't shake off the feeling that she's right. We're at risk of becoming a band of desperate individuals willing to sacrifice each other for the sake of misguided loyalty. Ironically, despite our solidarity, I sense a fracture that threatens the very foundation of who we are. We're no longer a family; we're merely surviving, clinging on to the idea that loyalty will be enough.
What's loyalty worth if we destroy each other in the process?
I know I should talk to Dutch; it seems more necessary now than ever. He needs to be reminded of the man he was and the leader he must become. He has to understand that leadership isn't just about rhetoric and bravado; it's about cultivating trust and ensuring we all walk the same path together. But every encounter with him leaves me more frustrated. Everything I say seems to fall on deaf ears, lost amidst his grand ideas.
And what is to become of us when he's consumed by this dream of partnerships and complex alliances? He talks about changing the world, yet I've seen far too many dreams just like this end in blood.
With the pinkertons lurking at the edges of our thoughts like a specter waiting to strike.
As the night creeps on and the sounds of the camp settle around me, an unsettling sense of responsibility weighs on my shoulders.
I am part of this mess. I have sworn my life to this gang, standing shoulder to shoulder with men and women I have fought beside for 20 years now. There's love there, loyalty forged in fire. But the boundary between love and hatred is frail and easily broken, and I don't want to watch it split apart.