Outlaws - An American Youth - [Charles Smith x OC]

Chapter 28 - Running away

My breathing speeded up. My future was playing out now, and I didn't know what to do. The two men hugged before looking at me, suddenly remembering my presence. What should I do, what should I do? 

"Ok Charles, I need you to take good care of this young lady. Make sure she finds her way back to a decent life."

My heart stopped. Arthur made the decision for me. It was definitely the best one to take. Certainly the one I would have taken myself if my brain hadn't been so clouded. Still in shock, I followed him to his horse, while Charles urged the members of the tribe to pick up their things.

"Anna, you have to promise me to try to do something honest with your life. You saw what living like an outlaw is. You did well. But you're a smart and kind girl, you have to do more with your life. Do it for me, will you?"

I nodded, in tears. Seeing him go tore my heart apart, and I suffered the aftermath of events. He got on his horse. Before he could move it forward, I grabbed his hand and kept it tight in mine.

"Thank you Arthur. For your friendship. I know you're not going to believe me, but you are a good man. You did bad things in your life, but you were good. Never doubt this."

He nodded slowly, his tired eyes on me. He was as pale as death but still had to hold on. Others needed him. Charles came closer and put his hand on my shoulder. 

"When it's all over, when you've put the others safe... Look for us, okay?"

He smiled sadly, giving me a last nod before ridding away.

"I will never see them again, right?" I said through my sobs, on the verge of collapsing completely. My world was falling apart and there was nothing I could do about it. Then, in a burst, I straightened up , remembering the situation.

"I'm sorry, I know we don't have time, we must hurry."

I tried to free myself from Charles's grip, but he pulled me against him, holding my face against his chest, letting his hand against my neck.

"We can take a few moments."

He too was crying. I never thought I would ever see this one day. There he was, that man usually so strong and reserved, exposing his feelings to everyone. Silently of course. Without a movement. Even when he expressed them, his emotions remained discreet. Against him, I let myself go.

But we couldn't abandon ourselves to our sorrow. Not yet. The army would soon arrive, and the retaliation would be terrible. Taking a deep breath, I pulled away.

"How do we organize?

- Help the women put their things away, I'm going to harness the horses and carry what we can bring.

- Okay.

- You were right about fixing those wagons.

- Believe me, I wish I wasn't."

Several hours of unrest followed. Everyone was crying. The losses had been enormous, and I felt bad crying. After all, what had I lost? A bunch of outlaws, without whom these good people would live in peace. They had lost their lands because of my ancestors, and now they were losing their base because of the crazy people I had joined.

I lived these hours as if I was out of my body. I think the trauma forced my brain to fall asleep to protect me. I have few memories of those moments. I remember the crying, the wailing. I remember that we took the time to say goodbye to the fallen men.

But I absolutely don't remember the rites performed for the last trip of my fellows. Also, I'm no longer 20, my memory sometimes plays tricks on me. I just remember the location of the grave of Eagle Flies. Below the reserve, facing a bubbling waterfall, as tumultuous as his short life was.