The Oregon trail

New Arrivals

Alex's P.O.V

The wind howled aggressively at us as we rode through the oncoming storm, the wind whipping dirt and debris into our faces, "Alex, I'm cold," my brother shivered, "I know bud, we're almost there," I replied, wrapping our one rain coat around him tighter.

We'd spent too much time in the last town, this storm had been chasing us all the way from Oregon . My brother had gotten ill as we made our way through the mountains, and I had made the brazen decision to stay a few extra nights in Dargaville to let him rest. While it was good for him, it wasn't for this trip.

We were ill equipped for a journey of this size. We didn't have the rations, clothes, resources or the money to make it to our final destination. I had used the majority of what little money we had left to buy him medicine, and bartered for the rain coat for hours with the shop keeper. His wife eventually taking pity on a couple of travel worn kids.

I mean that's what we were now, just two orphaned kids. My brother and I had been forced to flee our home and travel half way across the country when my father refused to bend to the will of a passing gang.

They wanted our land to squat on and our cattle to sell. When my father refused they gave him an alternative. Either me or the farm. As any hard working ranch owner would he flew into a rage, I was his pride and joy after all. He wasn't going to back down to a bunch of crooks.

Our small town of ranchers and farmers banded together to flush the scum from our streets, when we thought we had them beat reinforcements came from the north. Eventually landowners fell to their wishes, but not us.

We were the last people in town who wouldn't do the dirty work for those degenerates, and that made us a prime target.

In all honesty we had no chance of beating those crooks on our own, maybe we would have if my former town folk hadn't been so weak. They were filled with cowardice.

With no one else to stand with us the gang had basically ripped our land from our fingers tips. I still remember the terror in my fathers eyes as he thrust a rifle and my saddle at me.

"Git on Red, grab your brother and git on outta 'ere," my dad rushed out pushing me out of his office, "Pa what's happening?"
"I don't have time to explain, you've just got to get out of here now!"

"It's the gang isn't it?" I asked digging my heels into the carpet, "I'm not leaving my home because of them, I'm staying here to fight," I said determined, "no your not!" He snapped, I was shocked. My father never raised his voice at me.

Twirling me around to face him he gripped my shoulders painfully, "your going to get on that horse of yours and you going to ride to my brothers place. You'll be safe there. I'll keep them off as long as I can," he mumbled.

"But Pa..." I trailed off, "but nothing. Your my little fighter, I have faith in you keeping your brother safe,".

A rifle round tore it's way through the window in front of us, the glass shattering into a million pieces, covering us with its delicate shards twinkling in the moonlight.

"Go!!" My father roared.

Scrambling to my feet I dodged flying bullets as I tore my way up the stairs into my brothers room. "Kane it's time!" I shouted stuffing some of his clothes into my saddle bag. "What's happening?" He asked frightened, I stopped for a moment looking at the terrified look on my little brothers face. He was just a kid, he didn't ask for any of this.