When the Devil Cries (Arthur Morgan X Male OC)

11. They're in Our Land Now

From Arthur's POV

MIDNIGHT

OUTSIDE SAINT DENIS

"Hurry!" Hosea urged, pointing ahead. "This way! We'll loose 'em in the trees!"

Snapping my horse's reins, I rode behind Eddie and Dutch to make sure there were no more assassins followin' us as we bolted through the marshlands, never looking back.

Even now, we could still hear gunshots thundering in the distance along with police whistles blaring loudly, and we had no idea if any of them had tailed us out of the city.

Christ, I thought to myself. What a goddamned mess.

Not only did that gala go up in flames faster than a match thrown in moonshine, we also made a new, unknown enemy tonight...and killed about a third of 'em, from what it looked like.

Who the hell were those people? I wondered. Why did Atticus want Eddie dead so much?

He weren't no outlaw like his daddy was. And judging by how little Eddie knew about Rose's gang, I doubted he was even involved with their criminal activity in the first place.

Eddie was nothin' but an innocent soul who got caught in the middle of this crossfire all because of another man's actions...and he nearly paid for it with his life today.

I was just glad that I had been there for him. If I hadn't-- well...I didn't even wanna think about that.

Slowing down to a halt, the four of us stopped next to a nearby swamp as our horses' hooves dragged through the soupy mud, giving us a chance to catch our breaths. It seemed like we had finally lost the assassins, and for the first time in a while, the air around us was actually quiet.

We had escaped.

For now.

"...Goddammit, Arthur!" Dutch cursed as he climbed down his horse, checking around to make sure we were truly alone. "What happened to 'our guns stay holstered?"

I got off my own mount, gesturing to Eddie who had drifted away from the group slightly, lowering my voice so he couldn't hear us.

"They was gonna kill him, Dutch!" I whispered through gritted teeth.

The older man shrugged.

"So?"

I fell silent at that, completely taken aback by the response.

I mean, I knew Dutch wasn't as close with Eddie as I was -- and the boy didn't even know his real identity -- but I still expected him to show at least some sympathy.

Hell, it was because of Dutch's sympathy that he took me in as a kid. Without him, I woulda lived the rest of my limited time in this world as some street orphan, and I would've never been where I was now.

What happened to Dutch?

Picking up on my surprise, the man lowered his head in an apologetic manner and softened his tone somewhat, glancing over at Eddie who was now sitting on a fallen tree log, unsure of what to do with himself.

"Listen," Dutch said sternly. "I know he's your friend, Arthur, but we can't afford to make sacrifices like this."

I wasn't convinced. "So you woulda just let him die?"

Dutch held up a finger, his expression sharpened with annoyance. "...Now it ain't like that, Arthur. And you know it. But we're a gang. We have priorities. And that boy ain't one of them!"

Hosea jumped in before things could get more heated, offering some pragmatism.

"To be fair," he added, still sitting on his horse, "a shootout most-likely would've commenced anyway. I mean -- good God, did you see how many assassins were in that gala? ...And I thought we was well hidden. Though, I'm happy to announce not everything went wrong. Despite all that bloodshed, we still made off with a decent chunk of money. Perhaps not as much as we were anticipating, but enough that I'd call tonight a success."