Out Of Time

Beaver Hollow

When Sam got back, people were almost done packing up.  She was curious as to where they were going to go next, so she went to find Dutch.  He would know.  Sam spotted him sitting on a porch of one of the dilapidated houses, subtly waving his finger about. 

"What are you doing, Dutch?" Sam inquired lightly.

"Workin' it all out," Dutch replied gruffly.  "Once and for all, Sam."

Sam leaned her rump against the railing of the porch, crossing her arms as she gave Dutch the lightest of smirks.  "I see.  And how's that going for you?"

"We're back, and I'm sittin' here, and I am contemplating the great journey of the sun and considerin' a famous chess move," Dutch said, waving his hands about as if to emphasize what he was saying.  "Those oily enactors of a mediocre justice, the Pinkertons," he pointed, his fingers, getting more stressed as he talked, "and their benefactor the depressing millionaire Leviticus Cornwall...they want us, Sam!"  Dutch tightened his fists and almost slammed them against his chest. "They want us, and they are goin' to have us."

Sam chuckled.  "Now you stop that kind of talk, Mr. Van der Linde.  None of those fuckers are getting us."

A small and deep chuckle escaped from Dutch's lips.  "I admire your spirit, Sam.  I really do."

Sam bowed her upper body just a tad as she looked at her feet, smiling to herself.  She looked back up at Dutch.  "Thanks.  So, any idea where we can go?  I can scout ahead if you need me to."

Dutch looked behind him.  "Not Arthur?"

"He's in Saint Denis with Sadie."

Dutch tilted his head to one side, curiosity playing on his face.  "Why?"

Sam wondered if this was a good time to mention John.  She took a deep breath and let it out before grabbing her pack of smokes and lighting a match to put it to her cigarette.  She inhaled the smoke, then exhaled it out, a foggy cloud forming near her face.  "Something to do with John, I guess."

Dutch shook his head and growled.  "We need to wait on that!  What are he and Sadie thinkin'?!"

Sam held up her palms.  "Woa, Dutch.  Just-"

Dutch stood up angrily, knocking his chair over.  "Sisika ain't no god damn jail cell!  It's a federal prison!  How are those two gonna get him outta there on their own?!"

"Well, I doubt they're doing that.  I think they're going to scope it out first."

Dutch started pacing to and fro.  "God dammit!  I told people not now!"

Sam leaned off the porch and kept her hands up, her face contorted with a mixture of shock and impatience.  "Dutch.  It's not the end of the world here.  Just calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down!  I-"

"You need to chill the fuck out, Dutch!  I know you're stretched real thin right now but you're gonna have a fucking stroke if you don't simmer the hell down!"

Dutch looked taken aback by her words and he suddenly began laughing.  "You sure are a pistol."

Sam rolled her eyes and smoked her tobacco, holding the cigarette between her lips.  "Yeah, yeah.  Just...these outbursts of yours have me concerned, is all I'm trying to say."  She took the cigarette between her fingers and blew out smoke.  "It's not like you at all."

Dutch chuckled before grabbing his chair and sitting in it.  "You sound like Hosea."  The man shut his eyes for a moment, looking as if he was about to break into a bunch of pieces.  "I miss...him."