When the Devil Cries (Arthur Morgan X Male OC)

27. Wayward Son

From Arthur's POV

SHADY BELLE, DUTCH'S OFFICE

"What do you mean he's dead...?" Dutch asked, his face drained of all color as I gave him he tragic news. "...What the hell happened?"

"It was Rodrick," I replied. "That maniac workin' for Atticus. He just...shot Lenny. Killed the poor boy without a second thought...and he weren't alone. There were other members from Atticus' gang on the boat, too. They knew we was coming, Dutch. They were ready for us."

Contrary to what I was expecting, the other man didn't seem surprised by that in the slightest and simply stared into the distance, thinkin' to himself as he rubbed his chin.

"...So Micah was right."

I paused, shrugging outta confusion. "What? Right about what?"

Dutch gave me a suspicious glance and lowered his voice, steppin' closer to me as he made sure no one was listening in.

"Micah reckons there's a rat."

I sighed in annoyance, thinking back to when I saw the two of them talkin' on the front porch. So that's what they were discussing.

"Does he, now."

"I know your feelings for him, Arthur," Dutch said, crossin' his arms, "but think about it. Every time we have tried to pull off a job or go after a tip, Atticus' gang has always been there waitin' for us. That ain't no coincidence. Someone out there is telling them our plans. Lettin' them know what our next step is. They are killin' our family, and they are just as responsible for Lenny's death as Rodrick is. We need to find them."

I still wasn't convinced. "Are you sure, Dutch? It don't take a genius to see that we've been anythin' but discreet. We've stayed in Shady Belle for far too long, we've robbed damn-near every establishment in Saint Denis, and Atticus knows where we're hiding. To be honest, I'm just surprised he hasn't wiped us out already."

Dutch rested his hands on his hips. "Well, it doesn't hurt to keep an eye out. I've already got a few ideas on who the rat could be, but I want you to help me find them. For all we know, there could be more than one. In the meantime..." he began making his way outta the office, "start packin' your things. We're leaving this swamp at first light, and then heading up north to a place called Beaver Hollow. Charles reckons we can stay there for a week or two."

I followed Dutch out of the room, watchin' as he descended the staircase. "...And after that?"

The older man looked up at me from under his hat, his eyes twinklin' with that dark glint again.

"All in due time, my son. All in due time."

~~~~~~~~~~

THE NEXT MORNING

EAST OF LAGRAS

Navigating my way through the tall, droopy trees in this area, I left my horse at a small gatherin' of shrubs and started traveling on foot to Hosea's grave, eager to say one last goodbye before leaving for Beaver Hollow.

With all the pandemonium goin' on recently, and Dutch's erratic behavior, I hadn't had a chance to stop by and visit the old man until today. It felt...strange seeing Hosea like this. I mean, he wasn't the first friend I lost -- and I doubted he'd be the last -- but I had gotten so used to the man bein' a part of my daily life that things just seemed...broken...now that he was gone. Incomplete. And frankly, I didn't know how to fill the emptiness.

Hell, these days, I caught myself thinking about ghosts more than actual people. Instead of seein' the folks who were still around back at camp, I always seemed to notice the ones who weren't there...and it frightened me.