Ella Matthews - A RDR2 Fanfiction

Chapter Nine: Attack

"What else have you been doing behind my back, Arthur?" Dutch asks.

"I was trying to stop this mess from getting any worse," Arthur says. "Clearly that didn't work,"

"Why the hell would they attack the oil fields?" Arthur wonders.

"What do you mean? It's perfect," Dutch replies.

"This was your idea?" Arthur asks, incredulous.

"Partly... the army, the government, the industrialists... they've taken everything from these people. Wouldn't you wanna fight back?" Dutch replies.

I realise that he's too far gone. There is nothing left for us as a gang.

"You've handed them a death sentence!" Arthur says. "Just like John, if we hadn't got him out of that prison,"

"Hey, show some respect," Bill says.

"Oh, you'll know when I ain't showing respect, Bill," Arthur mutters.

"I had a plan... I still have a plan!" Dutch yells.

Every time Dutch says this, I feel a pang of sadness for what was.

But maybe this is how it's been all the time. Perhaps I just never saw it.

"What plan? What plan, Dutch?! Tahiti? Timbuktu?" John yells.

"That's enough. What's wrong with you all? What happened to loyalty?" Javier asks.

My heart snaps in two. He's too far gone. There's nothing I can do to save him.

"Yeah, what did?" Arthur murmurs.

Exactly.

"Thank you, Javier, Bill. Right now, it doesn't matter how we got here. These men need our help. I have a plan. This is the plan," Dutch says.

The plan is to get them all killed?

"So either stick with me, or cut loose," Dutch continues.

Arthur catches my eye.

"Because I am tired of this constant dissent, long tired of it. Now come on!" Dutch yells.

I realise that I need to go. They don't need me for the train job tomorrow. I could just... vanish.

But I can't. I can't go.

Either I slip away before we go to Tahiti, or the train goes badly, and the gang splits up. I decide on just waiting it out. In fact, perhaps we can all get to Tahiti and be normal again. But I highly doubt it.

"Look up ahead. It's one of them," a voice drifts through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality.

"Are you alright, son?" Dutch asks.

"Eagle Flies..." he says weakly. "He needs help. They need help..."

"Someone help him,"

"No, go. Please. Hurry. I'll be..." he tails off.

We ride away before he finishes.

I hope he's okay.

Arthur looks at Dutch, then at John, then at me.

I give an almost imperceptible nod.

John exchanges a look with me.

We all know. The three of us.

This is done. We have to go.

*

"It's a massacre," Charles murmurs as we all approach Cornwall Kerosene and Tar.