𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ⋆ 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘰𝘤 ⋆ 𝘳𝘥𝘳2

Chapter XIII: Trouble Down in Valentine

  "Please, gentleman... this is a terrible mistake." Dutch starts as he steps out of the saloon with Arthur, both of their hands raised in surrender. My heart leaps at the sight of both of them, something I never thought I'd say to myself. 

  "This is a case... of mistaken identity. What is worse than admonishing a man, for the sins of another?" Dutch asks and if it isn't for what I know now, I'd almost believe his smooth words. I begin to drown out Dutch's words as I look at Arthur. 

  Arthur notices me looking at him, all he does is nod slowly. What is he planning? Faster than a blink of the eye, Arthur's gun is drawn and the man that was once holding a knife is now laying face first in the mud with a hole in the middle of his head. My eyes widen as I scream bloody murder over the sight. Gunfire begins to be fired from both parties as I hold my head down in my hands. I feel strong arms lift me from the ground, I spin around to see Arthur. 

  "Move your ass, we gotta go!" Arthur yells at me, I nod as we begin to run down the road while bullets fly at us from every angle. I try to keep my head ducked down as we head towards a wagon for cover. I look behind and notice Dutch does not realize there is a man behind him with a gun pointed directly towards him. My eyes widen as I rush and push Dutch out of the line of fire. Dutch falls on the muddy floor and as do I. Dutch turns around and shoots the man clean in the head. I'm shocked by all the death I've seen in just a matter of seconds, but I can think about this later... now is most definitely not the time. I try to stand but a sharp pain immerses from my torso making my jaw jaw drop from the pain. I look down and notice the blood and hole that has been left on my side. This isn't happening. 

  I got shot. I got fucking shot. 

  I look up and meet with Arthur's eyes before looking back down at my wound. I begin to hyperventilate as my brain begins to panic, I hold my hand out and look at the amount of blood. "Arthur! " Dutch yells from behind me as he leans down and wraps my arm around his should, I groan loudly from the pain that is now becoming worse by the second. I'm dreaming, this isn't real. 

  "Put her on that wagon over there, we'll push her to the horses. " Dutch instructs as the move my arm to Arthur's shoulders, he begins to somewhat drag me to the wagon, I only take a few steps here and there to help out a little. Arthur lifts me up with ease as he lays me down in the wagon, I clench my teeth as I groan out "Oh my God!" Arthur pushes my hair out of my face as he looks down at me.

  "Don't let me die. " I beg to which he nods in response. "You have my word. " Arthur replies before rushing to Dutch's side. "We'll push and you cover us, Arthur!" Dutch shouts, I begin to hear more gunfire and stray bullets hitting the wagon John and Dutch are pushing me in. 

  The bullet wound begins to feel like fire, it feels as if someone is stabbing me with a recently burned knife slowly. I jolt and try to hold as much pressure I can to the wound, but it's too painful to hold my hand against it. I just keep my hand there because if I don't, I could die. 

  It wasn't supposed to be like this, I was supposed to go out the way I wanted to, on my own terms. This isn't how I want it to end, it can't be the way it ends. Suddenly, the gunfire stops. 

  "John you take Delilah on your horse while we have a second to breathe, you take her to camp. Hosea will tend to her. Arthur, you cover us until we're gone... and try not to get yourself killed." Dutch instructs as him and John help me walk to John's horse. I begin to whistle for Lakota as loud as I possibly can. I can't see her, but I hear her sweet neigh as she gallops behind us. Arthur is the one to actually lift me up on the back of John's horse. I look down at him. 

  "Be careful. " I warn him as John mounts up, Arthur takes my hand and squeezes it. "Same goes for you, Delilah." Arthur replies softly, he lets go of my hand as John begins to ride away with Dutch alongside us. I turn my head around to see Arthur heading for cover from oncoming gunfire.

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  "John is it okay if we use your tent?" The man who I assume to be Hosea asks John, John nods. "Yeah of course. " John replies, the pain has only become a little bit bearable... but still very much painful. 

  I'm brought into an enclosed tent where the older man lays me onto a bed, I whine loudly as I keep holding onto my fresh wound. "Move your hand. " Hosea instructs, I'm hesitant but I do so. Hosea unbuckles my vest, removing it from my body and throws it onto the ground. He then lifts up my shirt to get a better view of the damage that has been done. "Stay with me." Hosea tells me calmly, I nod. "Ready?" Hosea asks which makes me nods once more. "Okay. " He says quietly to himself. I practically scream when he begins to pour alcohol straight onto my bullet wound. I dig my fingernails into John's bed probably ripping the material. 

  "I'm sorry. " Hosea apologizes, I try to control my breathing but I let out another scream when Hosea begins to dig around in my flesh with burning hot metal. "Got it. " I hear Hosea faintly say to himself, probably referring to the bullet. My eyes suddenly start to become heavy as my breathing slows. I begin to blink rapidly to try and keep them open but it's becoming far too difficult.

Darkness