When the Devil Cries (Arthur Morgan X Male OC)

28. Death Warrant

From Arthur's POV

ONE WEEK LATER

BEAVER HOLLOW

Finishing my drawing of this camp, I flipped to the next page and began writing a few words on it, hopin' to scribble down some of my thoughts while I had the opportunity to relax for a moment.

The new camp wasn't as bad as I was expecting it to be -- considerin' Micah picked it -- but despite all of his assurances, something still felt...off...about the area.

I couldn't quite place it, but when the caravan arrived at Beaver Hollow, one o' the first things I noticed was the multiple bloodstains decorating our new home. Micah insisted it weren't nothing to worry about -- and Dutch seemed more than okay with settling down here -- but it was still pretty obvious that someone else had been livin' here before we moved in.

The dried bloodstains, the ominous cave, the random crates of weapons and dynamite that were left behind by the previous owners...it was clear that this wasn't exactly a "sanctuary." And there was also the fact that most of the locals avoided Beaver Hollow like the goddamned plague.

I had no idea what made this place so portentous, but regardless of whatever dangers we was gonna have to deal with out here, Beaver Hollow was still a helluva lot better than Shady Belle. It may not've had a big manor for us to sleep in, but it also weren't riddled with old bullet holes, gators, marshlands, and for the first time in a while, we actually had some fresh air to breathe.

Perhaps we'd make a home of this place yet. I just hoped it wouldn't be for very long.

Putting my pencil down, I shut the journal closed and slipped it back into my satchel, only to be stopped mid-action when I overheard some commotion goin' on at Pearson's wagon.

It didn't look like Pearson himself was involved with whatever was happening, but Eddie had just brought in a deer carcass and was now arguing with Micah at the moment. Things were still civil, and I doubted Eddie would let it escalate too much, but I listened in anyways, hopin' to at least hear something that would give me a good enough reason to strangle Micah if need be.

"--and Dutch said you was gonna be useful," Micah retorted, gesturing to the deer. "Look at this thing. It's almost as skinny as you. Who the hell's this gonna feed? Jack?"

Eddie sighed in annoyance, stabbing his knife into a wooden table. "Well, I don't see you feeding anyone. When was the last time you went out hunting in the woods?"

The other man chuckled in a condescending tone, pointing to his head. "I'm too busy helpin' Dutch come up with plans. Someone's gotta help the old man, after all, now that Hosea's gone. He just needs a little...guidance. But we all have to pull our weight, Ryan. We all have to earn our keep. At least..." Micah glanced over at Uncle, "...that was the idea."

Yanking his knife out the table, Eddie took hold of the deer and started skinnin' it, doing his absolute best to ignore Micah.

"If you think you can do better, be my guest. Now, shut up and go bother someone else. I have to get this thing ready for Pearson."

Micah laughed at that and began sauntering in Dutch's direction, wavin' a casual goodbye to Eddie as he took his leave.

"Whatever you say, Ryan."

Waiting for the man to disappear from sight, Tilly suddenly joined the conversation once Micah was outta earshot and tried to reassure Eddie, holdin' her book close to her chest as she spoke.

"Don't listen to him, Eddie," she encouraged. "We all see the work you're doin' for this gang. I know Arthur certainly does."

The pianist softened his voice slightly and wiped some sweat off his brow, taking a break from the skinning.