LAST CHANCE → sean macguire ✔

two , eight

The air was thick with an acrid smell that choked a cough from Willa. She tried, in vain, to rid her throat of the unfamiliar sting and scrunched her nose.

"It's terrible, ain't it? Just the joys of the new world, the sickening joys." Dutch sneered as they crossed the bridge into Saint Denis. This was the peak of civilization-- the east moving into the west. The taming of the Wild.

"Quite enjoyable." Willa grumbled, adjusting her hat. The horse beneath her snorted. The beautiful mare definitely wasn't Horaz, but she would work for now. The thought of having lost her beloved horse still stung Willa to the core. Arthur coughed, too, but Willa wondered if it was the grotesque air, or something else. You see, he had been coughing more recently, out in the swamp, but he was just blaming it on the swampy air.

"Hey, how're you and Sean doing, anyhow? That scrap sounded pretty nasty last night-- i-if you don't mind me prying." Arthur slowed to ride beside her and Willa laughed, but there was no humour in it.

"We're fine as could be." She sighed, running fingernails through her already roughed up ponytails, low on her shoulders. The fight had been nasty, yes, and they had both done some shitty things. Sean had gotten just a bit too drunk and started flirting with the other girls in the camp. Willa was already way too tired to be reasonable, so she blew up and started spewing shit about him that was uncalled for. He retorted just as bad and they had stormed away, still yelling. Willa had slept alone that night.

Arthur sent her a reassuring look, then Willa felt another presence ride up beside her.

"Ya know, I could take his place easily... If you're bored with him, I wouldn't mind a crack at it." Micah was pressing her buttons, Willa knew it.

"You're disgusting." Willa snapped. Micah only chuckled.

"I'd call it charming, in my own way. Besides, I've heard you two. That little Irish fuck can't possibly satisfy you like you should be," He steered Baylock closer to Willa's mount, putting Willa in arms reach of him, "Why don't you let me-"

She hadn't realized she'd pulled out her gun until his hands were up and he was backing away, still wearing that sickening smirk.

"Enough, you two. The bank's just up ahead." Dutch snapped. With a grunt of derision, Willa slammed her gun back into its holster and hurried after Dutch. They were to meet the other half of the group at the bank, and Willa sighed in relief when they rounded a corner and spotted the others.

"Alright, Willa. You're with Hosea and Abigail downtown. Make sure no one interrupts their little... Distraction. The rest of you on me."

Sean approached Willa's horse and reached for her hand, but she turned away and spurred it forward, hearing Micah snicker as she left. It pained her to leave him like that, and it was stupid in all reality. She loved him so much and there was that possibility that neither of them would even make it out of this alive, and she was leaving him like that? Still holding the previous evenings events against him?

She cursed herself. How stupid, but it was too late to turn back now. It was too late to run into her lover's arms, never letting him go so she would never have to. Never saying goodbye.

The sound of an explosion rang through the streets and a smile cracked across Willa's face as she hurried the horse forward.

She spotted the wagon up ahead, Hosea and Abigail's. Some people were gathered around the wreckage, but most were running away screaming. That's when Willa spotted something. Something bright blue, weaving in between the citizens, and ushering them away.

"Pinkertons." Willa pulled the reins back sharply, earning a frustrated grunt from her mare. There were lawmen and Pinkertons surrounding the place, and Willa spotted them loading a man onto a wagon. Hosea. She slipped off her horse and left her in a dark alley, then went to see where the Pinkertons were taking the old man.

She was crouched behind a stack of crated apples, when something grabbed her shoulder. She jerked backwards, reaching for her gun, only to come face-to-face with Abigail.

"Shit, you scared me outta my skin!" Willa waved her down. Abigail looked distraught.

"They got Hosea. I could only get away, I..." Her words failed her and Willa touched her hand.

"I know. Dutch will have a plan for him once they get back from the bank. The Pinkertons won't just kill him like that, trust me," Willa glanced around and, determining that the coast was clear, she waved Abigail back to her horse, "Get out of here-- back to your boy. We won't be too far behind." She tried to reassure the fretting woman, but it was hard when she didn't believe it herself.

Abigail barely hesitated. She had a son to get back to, and Willa would make sure she got there. She watched Abigail until she disappeared in the alley, then turned back to the wagon. Two well-dressed men were approaching her.

"Ah, Miss Grant. I can't say I didn't expect you here."

"I don't think we've ever met." She hoped Abigail had made it to her horse. The man laughed humourlessly.

"Not personally, no. I'm Agent Milton, from the Pinkerton Detective agency. This is my partner, Agent Ross. I've heard a lot about you." He leaned on the wall beside Willa and she bristled, "Are you alone?" Willa sighed in relief. They hadn't seen Abigail.

She turned a glare towards Milton, curling her fingers into a fist. Of course the Pinkertons had found out about the job-- why should anything go right?

"Define 'alone'." She retorted. A sick smile curled Milton's lips.

"I know about the bank robbery. Your accomplices are there right now, no?" He reached for her elbow, which she jerked away from, then got a gun placed against her forehead, "Why don't we go join them, hmm?"