RDR2: Taciturn

Chapter 13

Two months. That was how long I was kept in that cabin, being given food and water only when I was on the brink of death, hanging uncomfortably to the point I didn't know if my arms would work anymore.

But my arms were hardly at the forefront of my mind every time that door slammed open and I was subjected to yet another round of interrogation. The Pinkertons didn't care about my age, or my gender. They cared about their information, and they were determined I would speak.

Yet, two months later they still had nothing. I had kept my mouth shut. Two months, they were losing patience. Yet they couldn't give up, not when I could give them everything they wanted.

I hoped the gang were fine. I knew they had got away, but how did they manage it? Saint Denis had likely been on lockdown, so maybe they got a boat. Maybe they were out of America already, safe and living a good life. I didn't resent them for it, no rescue was coming even if they were in America. Milton had made them think I was dead.

I had long since given up any hope of rescue. I was at the point I just wanted it to be over, I just hoped one day they went too far and killed me.

I barely slept, only when I had finally been knocked unconscious. But that never lasted for long, freezing cold water jolted me awake every time.

But when I was unconscious, I often found myself in my own version of heaven. Arthur was with me, smiling at me, laughing. The other gang members were there, smiling too. Everyone was happy, there wasn't a care in the world. Things were perfect.

But I was always pulled from that dream, stolen from the arms of my loved ones.

Then, one day, the door was slammed open in the usual forceful fashion. I flinched harshly, readying myself for the blows, yet they never came. I felt a body move closer to me, fumbling with the chains that held my arms, before I crashed to the ground.

My arms lay limply at my side as I frowned up at my saviour. It looked like Micah, but it couldn't be? How could Micah be here?

"Micah, we've got to go," and that sounded like Sadie? My dreams of rescue were getting weirder by the minute, "They'll find those bodies and we'll end up in a shootout."

"I don't think she'll be able to walk, she's in a bad way," Micah replied, lifting me up, "I need to carry her. If anyone spots us, you're gonna need to do the shooting."

"Fine, hurry up! If we rescue her just to deliver her dead body to Arthur, I..." Sadie trailed off, her eyes falling on me as I finally came into view, "Oh my lord."

"We can look at her injuries once we're safe, get a move on!" Micah snarled, pushing past her and looking out the door, "Its clear, we've gotta move."

"Micah?" My voice cracked as I looked at him, he glanced down at me and sighed.

"Don't speak, kid, save your strength," he said, "We're getting you out of here."

I was put onto his horse, Baylock, and he climbed up behind me. Somehow we got out without any more Pinkertons seeing us, the only deaths were the ones they came across and that was done silently.

"We're almost back, kid," Micah told me, his face showing his concern.

"What... happened?" I asked.

"We'll explain once you're better, but you need treated," he said, "Stay awake and don't speak. You'll be fine."

We arrived back at camp, but it wasn't Shady Belle. It was still a swamp, but resembled a small village rather than a plantation house. They must have come here after everything went wrong.