Unshaken

Played Out

Liam woke up and shivered. He looked over to see John asleep in the chair beside the cot with his arms crossed and legs stretched out. His hat covered his eyes. Liam felt bad for taking his tent. He saw a bedroll on the ground and assumed that was where John had been sleeping. It seemed to be around midday. Liam tried to sit up but let out a sudden groan of pain from his hip. John jumped awake at the commotion. "You're alive." John said, pleasantly surprised. "If that's what you call it." Liam said, pushing himself up into a seated position. "How long I been out?" Liam asked. "Almost two days." John said. "Sorry I been taking your tent. I'll get to mine now." Liam said as he started to get up. When he stood up, he saw more flashes of white and his knees buckled, causing him to fall to the ground. Pain shot through his leg and his head throbbed. He tried to muffle his groans of pain. John jumped up and helped him back onto the bed. "You ain't in no condition to leave this cot, kid. You need to rest. I'll go get you something to eat. You need to get your strength up." John said making Liam sit back down.

John brought back a bowl and handed it to him. Liam thanked him and started to eat. He could only eat a few bites before he felt like throwing up. "That's enough for now." He said as John took the bowl and set it on the ground. "I'll be honest, for a little while there, I was starting to think we might have to bury you." John said. Liam didn't realize it was as serious as it was. "Not yet." Liam joked. "I'll go let the others know you're okay." John told him as he got up and left the tent. Liam grabbed the oil lamp and set it near his feet to try and warm them up. Even grabbing the lamp felt like a chore. His body was drained. He felt like a ton of bricks had fell on him. He started to get drowsy again and laid back down.

Hosea and Charles walked in. Hosea checked the back of his head. "The swelling's gone down. You took quite a hit. Quite the "town run" you had." Hosea told him, winking. "Yeah, but, I'm alive." He told Hosea. "That you are, dear boy." Hosea told him. Charles checked his stab wound to see if it had started to heal or not. "Doesn't look any worse or infected, so that's good." Charles told him. Liam was thankful it wasn't fatal. "How've y'all been?" Liam asked the two. "The question is, how're you feeling?" Hosea asked. "Cold and sore, but I'll survive. I feel like I'm in the Grizzlies." He admitted, shivering. Hosea laughed. "Trust us. The Northern Grizzlies is not where you wanna be." He said.

"How's Arthur?" Liam asked. Hosea looked at Charles and pursed his lips. Liam grew worried. "He hasn't woken up yet, but he's still breathing. Seems as he took a beating." Hosea said. "Yes he did. By Colm O'Driscoll himself, that damn bastard. He was gonna wait for Dutch to ride in and hand him over to the law." Liam told them, not hiding his anger. "Well for some reason Dutch never went looking. I assume he thought Arthur escaped or something." Hosea said. "Doesn't matter now. We're all here." Liam said. "Alright, well, we'll let you get some more rest." Hosea said as he stood up from the chair. Charles patted Liam on the leg as he walked out. Liam turned to his side and fell asleep.

When he woke again, it was dark out. Moonlight shone into the tent. He looked over to see John asleep on the bedroll that was laid out in the tent, parallel to the cot. He was ready to be up and moving again so John could have his tent back, though he didn't seem to mind sharing it with Liam. His head throbbed and his throat was sore. He took a sip of the mug of water Abigail had placed there and fell back asleep.

Liam rubbed his eyes as the morning sunlight hit them through the trees. John was no longer there. He was able to sit up now without feeling like he wanted to fall right back down. He was still sore, but not as drained as he was. He was cold, but not shivering. He was thankful his body was improving. "You need to eat. Get your energy back." Charles said, walking in and handing him a piece of salted venison. "I know, it's just when I try to eat I feel like I wanna throw it all back up." Liam told him, taking a bite of the meat. "I know. John told me you could barely eat Pearson's stew." Charles said, reaching down and grabbing a bowl. "Here, I made a mixture of some herbs that my mother taught me when I was real young. Takes away nausea and dizziness." Charles said handing him the bowl. Liam quickly ate the herbs and tried the meat again. It worked. "Well hell, it worked. Thank you, Mr. Smith." Liam said. "No problem. Just make sure to eat. It's vital for your recovery right now." Charles told him. Liam assured him he would and Charles left the tent. Liam took another sip of water and stood up. He no longer saw white flashes. He sat back down and slid on his boots. He stood up and exited the tent, slightly limping on his leg as he went along. His throat and neck still hurt like hell, though. He immediately went to Pearson's wagon and grabbed a can of peaches and a chocolate bar. He ate the chocolate which slowly gave him energy. Every step he took came with a sore muscle ache.

He looked over to Arthur's tent, to see Sadie sitting there, sharpening her knife. He sorely walked up to her. "Nice to see you back on your feet again, Mr. Parker." She told him. "It is, thank you." Liam said. They both looked at Arthur. He was still out. "How's he been?" Liam asked. "Ain't been no different in the past three days." Sadie said. Liam felt bad, but was glad Arthur was back in camp and not in Blackwater awaiting a hanging. "You wanna keep watch for a while?" Sadie asked, noticing Liam start to rub his leg from the soreness of standing. "Of course." Liam told her. He sat down in the chair and Sadie went off the go feed the chickens.

Liam sat for a while, reading a book Jack had generously given him while he was bed-ridden. He planned on picking up Jack a few things while he was in town the next time he went. It was about Otis Miller and Black Belle. As he read, Micah approached, staring at the sight of an injured Arthur. Liam could've sworn he was smiling. "Is there something I can help you with?" Liam asked him. "Oh, there's nothing you can help me with considering you can barely walk, young one." Micah told him. "Then why are you over here?" Liam asked, annoyed. "I don't have to let you know anything, cowboy. But, if you must know, I'm just checking on my dear friend Arthur here. He shouldn't have been so sloppy with his work. This is a direct result of his lack of skills." Micah taunted. Liam snapped the book shut. "Last time I checked, you was the one who pushed him and Dutch to do the whole damn "meeting" with Colm." Liam snapped at him. Micah scowled, lowered himself and got in Liam's face. Liam didn't budge. "You don't blame shit on me, boy. Arthur got himself into this mess. And you ran off without permission from Dutch on your little escapade. Know your place." Micah hissed, in a low tone. He kicked some dirt on Liam's boot. "Have fun reading your children's book, redneck." Micah taunted walking off. The thought of anyone Liam considered an asshole telling him what to do enraged him. His father was the same way. He was ready to get up and choke Micah out, but knew he wasn't in any condition to do so.

He took a few breaths, shook his boot off and opened the book. He got lost in the story about the gunslingers for a while longer. As he was about halfway through the book, Arthur started to shift. Liam looked up in alert. He groaned as he moved. His eyes opened. They started to roam. He eventually looked at Liam, who was studying his every move. Arthur put his hands over his face and sighed. "Am I in hell?" He sarcastically asked. Liam admired his ability to lighten any situation. "Depends." Liam joked. "Ugh. I feel like I got hit by a train." Arthur groaned. "At least you ain't awaiting a swinging in Blackwater." Liam told him. "True. How're you feeling?" Arthur asked. "Fine. A little sore, but I'll survive." Liam said. Arthur noticed his paleness and bruising around his neck. He got flashbacks of the night Liam came to try and rescue him. When he was struck, when he fought the O'Driscoll, when he was stabbed. He knew Liam had his back, and now he promised himself to keep Liam's. "You don't look fine." Arthur told him. "I assure you I am. I'm alive, ain't I?" Liam asked, trying to assure him. "Question is, you alright?" Liam checked in. "I guess. I ain't in Blackwater." Arthur said. He turned to Liam. "I never thanked you for what you did. I appreciate it." Arthur said. "Of course. We gotta stick by each other." Liam told him. "That's nice of you, kid." Arthur told him. He then felt his stomach growl. "I'm hungry as all hell." He told Liam. "And you sure as shit can't go get it." Liam laughed and told him. "Can't argue with you there." Arthur said. Liam called Mrs. Grimshaw over to them. She took care of Arthur the rest of that afternoon. Liam had a new respect for Susan.

He went and sat by the shore to clear his mind. It still felt odd to him to have people that cared for him and his needs. He wanted to do the same for others in the camp, too, when he got better. He took out his binoculars and looked across the lake to Blackwater. He couldn't believe how close and so far it was from them. He was glad for the archipelago of islands blocking whatever boats might see them. He couldn't wait to be all the way on his feet again. He had a new urge to go and make money. He felt like he owed Dutch and the rest of the gang it for taking him in. He sat and thought of where he'd be right now if he hadn't found Arthur that night in the Cumberland Forest. He thought Arthur would've most likely been killed, but now Liam wasn't so sure about that considering all Arthur had been through in his twenty years with Dutch.

He thought of himself. Where would he be right now? He concluded that he'd been a wanderer around various regions. A lost soul caught in the mix of life. A victim of circumstance. He was glad he was no longer a victim of anything. He was no longer the prey of society. He was the predator. He saw a vision of himself. Starving, lonely and unhappy. He was beyond thankful that things had turned out the way they did. He wondered what the future held for him riding with Dutch.

At the end of the day, he did as Charles said and ate a bowl of stew and went to lay down in his own tent to rest.