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

Chapter 60 - The Last Enemy That Shall Be Destroyed

"My dear Alice,

Our past is catching up with us. Please burn all my letters, our address, our phone number, and anything that may relate to us.

If someone comes, if you love me, you will tell them that I died years ago.

Maybe I'm doing too much, but can you ever do too much to protect your family?

I'll call you when the danger is over.

Your sister who loves you."

---

It all started with a phone call. One afternoon, Liz came to see me in the office, telling me that a certain John had called. He was going to call us back in the evening, after the cafe closed, and he wanted Charles to be there too. I frowned, trying to make sense of those mysterious words without succeeding.

So we found ourselves alone in Liz's cafe after dark. She had agreed to babysit Alice while we were talking with our friend. All day I had been worried. John rarely called, and never kept so many secrets. We sat there waiting in silence. Charles played with his knife as I paced.

"Sit down, I'm sure he's okay.

- It's not normal Charles, something must have happ/"

The phone ringing interrupted me. I grabbed the receiver quickly, without giving my husband a chance, who just took the earpiece.

"John, is that you?

- Good evening Anna, is Charles with you?

- Yes he is. Tell us what's going on, is everything okay?

- Hum, not really. I'm calling you from New Austin. Bill Williamson shot me.

- What ?!!" We both screamed in disbelief.

He began to explain everything. As he recounted, we grew paler, holding hands to endure the difficult news he brought us. Agent Ross had found them. He wanted John to help him hunt down three of our former companions. Bill, Javier, and Dutch. To force him, he held Abigail and Jack prisoners.

John had no choice but to comply. After days of traveling he had arrived at the fort that Bill and his gang were running. Bill as a leader, the idea was something to smile about. He who had been a follower all his life. However, he didn't hesitated to shoot his former companion. Saved by the owner of a successful ranch, he was slowly recovering.

"Ross asked about you Charles. I told him you were dead years ago. He seemed to believe me. You are living an honest life now, and out of the country. I don't think they'll be looking for you, but I still wanted to warn you.

- Tell me where you are, I'm coming to help you."

Charles had snatched the receiver out of my hand to speak directly to John. I was paralyzed. Of course, he wanted to go. This is the man he was. He could never have stood idly by while his friends were in danger. I too would have liked to help him. But we weren't alone anymore. My maternal body twisted in worry. Selfishly, I didn't want him to go. Yet I said nothing, just wiping away the silent tears that were streaming down my cheeks. On the other end of the line, John came to my rescue.

"No, I forbid you. If you are my friend, you stay hidden and you protect your family, that's all that matters on this damn earth. Can you hear me Charles? I forbid you to come. Everything will be alright. I'll call you as soon as it's over.

- Take care John." I managed to articulate painfully.

I stood there, stunned, while Charles hung up. He gently took my hand and guided me to Liz's, where we picked up our daughter before heading home. Throughout the trip, he kept an arm around us. It was costing him to stay, but he knew John was right. He had to protect us no matter what. And he did keep that promise until his last breath.

---

Months went by without our hearing from our friend. Then one day, the newspapers reported the death of the famous Dutch Van der Linde, the last outlaw of the wild west. The news even reached our remote corner of Canada. To believe that our adventures had interested the whole America. This announcement relieved me. This meant that John had succeeded in his mission and could finally go back home. It would be only a matter of weeks before he contacted us again.

However, I could not suppress a slight pang in my heart. Dutch had gone mad and did massacre after massacre since our gang disbanded. But I couldn't forget that he had been a good man once. I couldn't forget those happy days at Clemens Point, our laughter and our songs, our heated debates. Javier was also dead. His blind loyalty had led him to a lonely and sad end of life. If only he had sided with Arthur. Maybe he would still be alive. Maybe he would finally have found peace, as we all had.

I put that melancholy aside, but Charles didn't need words to understand me. When he would see my gaze lost in the distance as I prepared a meal or read a book, he approached me, hugging me, and placing soft kisses on my temple. The past was the past, I didn't have to worry about it anymore.

---

The door to my office swung open, hitting the wall. I jumped as Liz made her smashing entrance, telling me that Abigail was on the phone. A smile lit up my face and I hurried over to the cafe. I greeted my friend happily, but all I heard back were sobs. With difficulty, she told me the latest news from Beecher's Hope.

John had finally returned. For a while, they had lived happily, as if nothing had happened. But one day, the army had appeared. Uncle was the first to fall, having raised his rifle one last time to protect those people he loved so much.

John then made one last act of love for his family. He made Abigail and Jack mount a horse so they could flee from the military, promising to follow them. But once in the distance, they heard the bursts of machine guns. They turned around, too late. When they got to the barn, they found John's body lying on the floor, riddled with bullets.

I screamed, collapsing into the nearest chair, causing the greatest concern among the regulars present that day. After stammering a few trivial words to Abigail, I ended up hanging up. There was nothing to say anyway. Nothing could ever ease her pain.

Liz rushed over to me, a pick-up in her hand that I quickly made disappear. I briefly explained to those present that I had lost an old friend and asked them to excuse me. I had to go home right this minute, it couldn't wait.

I pushed my horse to go faster, always faster, risking three times to slip into the ditch. But I couldn't keep this story to myself any longer. As soon as I got there, I jumped to the ground, leaving the cart in the middle of the aisle. In the living room, Charles was playing quietly with Alice. Seeing my distressed face, he got up to meet me.

"They killed John."

His whole body froze, as if he had just received a heavy punch in the stomach. I burst into tears, pulling him out of his torpor. He came over to hug me, his tears mingling with mine. Seeing us both crying, our daughter began to sob too. She didn't know anything, innocent soul, but seeing us in pain was enough to disturb her.

Among all the terrible events in his life, not helping John was Charles's biggest regret. He probably could not have changed this tragic fate, and he would surely be dead too. But the thought of having been helpless was unbearable to him. It was a wound he carried with him every day, until the hour of his death.

John Marston was a good man. Don't be fooled by what others might say about him. In his youth, he was coward, irresponsible and even dangerous for those who crossed his path. But after years of wandering, he had become a good husband and a good father, living only for the happiness of his family.

That day we lost an honest citizen in the name of so-called justice. We lost a man who was just trying to do his best to survive in this crazy society of ours.

And no one should ever be blamed for trying.

---

There you go, I hate Rockstar, everyone dies, it's unbearable.