Unshaken: An RDR2 Story

Chapter 5

We rode in silence for a while. I didn't have any voice to speak to him, I was still shaking, my gun gripped tightly in my hand.

Arthur didn't follow his own advice, leading us straight to camp. He had to lift me off my horse, supporting me as we walked into camp, Dutch marching up to us straight away with concern in his eyes.

"Is she hurt?" he demanded of Arthur as he prised the gun from my hands, my knuckles white from how tightly I was holding it.

"I don't think so," he sighed, leading me to my cot, "She's pretty shaken."

"What happened?" Dutch knelt down by my side as I was pushed to sit, "Evie, tell us."

"I... I shot..." I couldn't get the words out.

The men shared a look, Arthur nodded slightly.

"You saved Sean's life," he said softly, "If you hadn't shot, he would be dead, and you perhaps with him."

"But... he was alive... then... blood..." I gasped out and Dutch took my hand, holding it tightly.

"We understand, we do," he said, "I remember the first time I took a life, and it certainly wasn't to save someones life like you. It tore me apart, the blood on my hands, it took me years to come to terms with it. But I was alone, I had nobody, you have all of us."

"But I... I killed him," tears spilled from my eyes, "I... he's dead, and it was me!"

"Evie, I know its hard," Dutch said, giving Arthur a quick look, "But you did nothing wrong, nothing at all. If you hadn't shot that man, Sean would be the one who was dead, and I can guarantee you'd be feeling a lot worse. We have to do things we don't like to survive, its kill or be killed. I want to protect you from as much of this as I can, but sometimes that's not possible. You need to be strong, you need to take a deep breath and accept what happened. The only way you can move on is acceptance."

"Dutch is right, Evie," Arthur spoke, "You have to come to terms with it, or you'll let it tear you apart. But you have us. We will help you, you just have to ask."

"But... I don't..." I whispered.

"Let's go get you something to eat," Dutch held a hand out, "Sit around the campfire, talk to the others. It'll make you feel better."

I hesitantly took his hand, allowing him to lead me to the campfire. A plate of stew was placed in my hands after I sat down but I didn't eat it. I stared into the flames, a slight frown on my face.

When I killed in the game, I didn't care about all these guards and everything. I didn't care about their stories. But now I was here, with real blood on my hands. It felt so different, I felt empty inside.

"Chica," a voice came from my right, "Are you alright?"

"No," I gave a small laugh, "Nobody warned me it would be like... like this."

"I was like you once," he mused, "Killing disgusted me, when I was a young boy. Then, I saw what man can do when left unchecked, what laws can do when set by the most powerful. It was then I realised, killing is a necessary part of our lives. What I saw, it made me who I am today. I am not saying killing is good, but... but I guess some people deserve it."

"But how do we know that man deserved it?" I asked.

"That man, as I've been told, was going to kill Sean," he said, "I'm proud of you. Your shooting lessons obviously paid off, you didn't kill Sean and you made a clean shot. The man didn't suffer, if it makes you feel better. And you've proven yourself as a good shot, given that was the first time you've worked a job."