Ella Matthews - A RDR2 Fanfiction

Chapter Four: Moving On

"Cheers to that," I say, gently tapping my drink against Javier's. We drink. Someone's yelling outside. We ignore them.

"Some people. So loud," Javier murmurs.

"Oh, and you singing at 2am is okay?" I ask with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"You like to hear me sing, though. Yelling is different," Javier says, returning my smile.

"You got me there," I drop my eyes from his and focus on my drink for a few seconds. My thoughts are cut off by gunshots.

"What the hell?" Javier exclaims, pulling me under the table. "You stay there. I need to see what's going on,"

"I can fight-"

"No. Stay there. You don't necessarily need to fight," he says, locking eyes with me. "Please,"

"Okay. Don't get shot," I say, but he's gone.

Less than three seconds later, he's back.

"We have a problem," Javier says grimly.

"Well I guessed that!" I say.

"Someone's shooting at Dutch. And Arthur. And John and Strauss,"

"Why the hell is Strauss here?"

"How should I know?! We need to help them," he says, but I'm already on it. Making sure my Lancaster Repeater is locked and loaded.

"You'd better be ready, girl," I say to Isabella, mounting up and patting her as I ride into battle.

*

I shoot several people. No names. No identity. Enemies.

I shoot them to protect my friends. Who I've known for years. My family.

Aim and fire.

Always on the exhale.

*

"Pack up, and quickly!" Miss Grimshaw's voice carries above everyone else's. I have been packing up, but my mind is filled with troubling thoughts.

Are things about to go wrong? Majorly wrong?

Blackwater was one thing. Heidi McCourt. A young woman. Probably my age. Dutch killed her, and nobody knows exactly why. Nobody mentions it, either.

Quite frankly, I don't think anyone wants to.

I sigh. I don't want to think about this, to be honest. I just...

No. Things will be fine. They always have been. In fact, things have been worse than this. We've always gotten through troubled times just fine.

But...

I push the thoughts away and finish packing my stuff.

"Ella," Dad says, sitting down beside me.

"Oh, hey, Dad," I smile.

His eyes flicker around the camp. It's busy, so nobody's paying him any attention apart from me. Then he coughs.

"Are you okay? That cough doesn't sound good," I say, concerned. I feel bad, honestly. I've hardly spoken to him properly as of late, what with me always being with Javier.

"For now, yes. That's exactly what I mean," he says. I'm confused slightly and filled with dread. He must see that I'm confused so he continues.

"I don't know how long I'll be okay for. I don't know how long I have..." he says in a low voice.