The Ballad of Broken Vows

Chapter One: Arthur

Who would have thought that I would be standing here on January 1, 1900 alive? Bounties are collected over my head from various towns throughout the western region of this vast country. Hundreds of dollars will be rewarded just to bring my body back dead or alive. For years I have walked among civilization, interacting with the normal folk whilst a badly sketched drawing of my face hangs raggedly above the bar of an old run-down saloon. The words "WANTED: Dead or Alive" is sketched above my portrait and the bounty differs from town to town, but I am a popular man, nothing less than $500. Bounty hunters from all over the nation try their hand at capturing me, yet I still walk freely among men. Thanks to my natural charm and ragged good looks (and the fact that my eyes are never quite drawn right), no one would suspect me to be a robber, a murderer, or an outlaw. Sadly though, I am all of those things.

The name's Arthur, Arthur Wilson, and I am right hand man to Doc Sloan, leader of the Sloan gang. Doc rescued me as a child and brought me into his gang, well, not really rescued more like I became orphaned at the hand of his gang. I was raised in a shack with an ill mother and an abusive father. As a child, I would watch as my father would strangle and beat my mother every night while he would drink moonshine straight from the jug. Mother never fought back though, she loved my father even when he would hurt her. I was eight when Doc and his gang decided to come and rob my father's pitiful shack that we called home. Hiding behind an old wooden dresser, I watched as my father knocked one of the men's gun out of their hand. They tousled to the ground fighting, as the man began to strangle my drunken father. Father landed one punch, sending the man tumbling backwards. When the man hit the ground, he grabbed an old rusted knife that fell to the floor, and stabbed my father in the chest. My mother let out a gut-wrenching scream, she ran to the back door of our old little shack. Mother gave me a sorrowful look as she ran away to safety without coming to retrieve me, her only son, to escape with her. I cried. Not for my father, who was lying dead on the floor, but for my mother leaving without a thought to take me with her. That night was the last time I saw my mother. Doc found me weeping behind the old dusty dresser and offered me his hand. From that day forward, Doc raised me to be his own son and to ride by his side during every heist we plan.

Being an outlaw was not something I deliberately chose as an occupation, but it seemed as though those were the only cards I was dealt. If I chose not to go with Doc, I would have been alone and probably dead sooner rather than later. The gang isn't so bad though, the old men are like my uncles and Doc is like my father. Doc never married or had any kids, so I am the closest thing to a son he has. Marrying is not usually on an outlaw's list of priorities, we mostly care about money and the wellbeing of our gang. There are women and children of course, but their husbands and fathers are the ones that hunt, cook, and set up camp. As for Doc and the six of us, we are the ones who rob and murder. Marrying one of us just means an extra target on our back and we cannot be responsible for anyone other than ourselves.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we celebrate." Doc speaks in his booming voice. The gang quiets down and focus their attention to our leader. "Not only for the new century, but for the fact that we did not lose any of our family in the past year." The people clap and cheer loudly, after a few seconds I hold up my hand and a hush falls over the gang.

"We will take the night off. If you go into town, do not make a scene." I instruct.  "Our next move will not be for three weeks. We must keep a low profile until then. Understood?" Everyone nods in agreement.

"Understood, Mr. Wilson." Doc claps his hand upon my shoulder and gives me a quick wink. "Now, get drunk, get laid, and make bad decisions. Be back at camp before sunrise, we will further discuss our next step." Everyone hops up from their seat and cheer loudly. Some folks walk down to the lake to fish, some board the wagons to go into town, and some pop open a bottle of their finest liquor and sit by the fire. I walk into our old house that is crumbling away more and more each day. We got lucky when I found this place. We usually just sleep on the ground, but here I have my own room, Doc has his own room, and the rest of the gang share the rest.

I walk up the brittle staircase up to my room that is secluded at the end of the hall. I go in and grab a few dollars out of my money box that I keep hidden in my dresser. I return downstairs and back outside. I walk over to the hitching post to go into town. Might as well head to the saloon, rent a room, and get drunk.

"Headed into town?" Jimmy, one of the other six gunslingers we have in camp, asks. Jimmy is one of my good buddies that I have in the gang. He's dark skinned with brown eyes, and he may be skinny but that boy is stout. I'm twice his size, but I wouldn't want to be in a wrestling match with him.

I nod as I pet my loyal horse, Genie. Ol' Genie has been by my side since Doc made me his right hand man when his buddy Carl died. She's a black Arabian and she is mean as all get out to everyone, except me of course.

"Mind if I come with you? I want to go and see if I can find me a nice woman for the night." Jimmy asks as he pets Genie.

"I don't mind." I mumble as I hoist myself onto my horse. "Just don't mess with a married woman, remember we are lying low for the next few weeks."

"I understand, Arthur, you have my word." Jimmy says as he mounts his horse. I give Genie a swift kick and we gallop towards the small town of New Water. The night air howls as we ride down the dirt road. It's not long before I see the small lights of the little town, I tug at the reins and Genie slows to a trot. I greet a few people as we make our way up to the old saloon, making sure none of the townsfolk will view me as a threat. Smoke rolls out of the doors and the stench of booze and cigarette smoke hits my nostrils. I breathe in and let out a nice long sigh. I'm getting completely wasted tonight and no one can ruin this night for me.