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Caleb nodded, ensuring the ropes on Wofford up were tied tightly and securely, then began the haul toward their horses tethered outside the fort. "Yeah," he muttered, glancing back at the fort one last time. "Reckon I owe you that much."
As they mounted up, the corpses of the Lemoyne Raiders were scattered behind them at the fort, and the evening sky bathed the fort in darkness.
Caleb couldn't help but feel satisfied with this bounty hunting job, because it proved to him that Sadie could be a perfect partner at such a job and he also increased his relationship with her as well.
As he thought so, Caleb took the lead riding at the front while Sadie followed behind, trusting Caleb to know the way back, not knowing that Caleb just needed to glance at his Map function in the corner of his vision.
It was a quiet, flickering overlay in his periphery that gave him all the information he needed, topography, settlement locations, and most importantly, the fastest and safest route to Rhodes.
He followed the road down from Fort Brennand, steering them around thick copses of pine and past quiet, slow moving creeks shimmering under the light of the moon.
The late afternoon air turned cooler as they rode, their horses kicking up light dust as they trotted in tandem.
Sadie was humming something faintly, a tune Caleb vaguely recognized as one Pearson had whistled around camp a few times, and the mood was surprisingly light for two people hauling hogtied criminals through the woods.
After a while, Sadie spoke up, her voice cutting into the peaceful quiet. "Y'know, Caleb… you've got some of the best skills I've seen in a long while. In fact, I'd say maybe only Arthur, Charles, and John could keep up with you in the gang."
Caleb chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over his shoulder. He slowed Morgan's pace slightly so Sadie could ride alongside. "That's high praise, how can you say that so confidently? You haven't gone on a ride with John, Charles, Javier, Bill, Lenny, Hosea, or even Dutch. How could you put me alongside Arthur, Charles, and John?"
Sadie's expression turned shrewd, her blue eyes sharp as flint, as she let out a loud laugh, clearly amused. "I don't need to ride with them to know. I watch. Camp's a quiet place most days, and when folks think you're not looking, they show who they are."
Caleb smirked, genuinely intrigued now. "Alright then, let's hear it. What's your take on everyone?"
Sadie tilted her hat back and took a deep breath, her words carrying easily through the air as they continued riding.
"Lenny's first. Sweet kid. Good heart. And yeah, he can shoot. But he's still young. Idealistic. Still believes in noble outlaw nonsense that Dutch peddles. That kind of thing makes a man hesitate at the wrong moment. He'll learn, but right now? Not up there. Give him a few more years, maybe he'll be something."
Caleb nodded slowly. He knew Lenny was brave but also knew from the game and his own recent memories, that youth made Lenny reckless.
"Bill," Sadie continued, almost scoffing. "What can I say? The man's a brute. Strong, and sure, he's a decent shooter. Thinks he's some kind of demolition expert 'cause he once blew a door off its hinges. But he's got a temper, drinks too much, and craves Dutch's approval like a dog waiting for scraps. Makes his decision making awful." She shook her head. "Man's a lit fuse waiting to blow. Skills don't mean squat when you're that unstable."
Caleb laughed at that, not because it was cruel, but because it was too true. His knowledge of Bill from Red Dead Redemption 2 and the antics around camp aligned perfectly with Sadie's take.
"And Javier," she went on, with a faint sigh. "Fast, slick with a gun, and charming in a poetic kind of way. But he's another idealist. Romantic about life and freedom, maybe too much. Looks up to Dutch like he's some holy prophet. I can't trust a man who can't think for himself. The point is, Javier's good, but he's shackled to Dutch's whims same like Bill. Just with better hair and less body odor."
Caleb laughed again, louder this time. "You're not wrong," he said. "It's scary how spot on you are. You've really been watchin' all of us, huh?"
Sadie snorted. "And now you believe I'm a good judge of character?"
He waved his hand. "Come on, don't stop now. What about the others?"
She rolled her eyes with a grin, but obliged. "John's next. Pain in the ass, honestly. Can't make up his damn mind about Abigail and Jack without someone like you lighting a fire under him. But I'll admit, I've heard he's good with a gun, moves fast, and can hold his own. And he's independent. That counts for something. Putting him ahead of Lenny, Bill, and Javier."
Caleb nodded again, this time more thoughtfully. He knew the potential in John, both from his past life and what he'd seen so far. Sadie's assessment was blunt, but accurate.
"Charles," she said, her tone shifting with subtle respect. "That man… He doesn't need to say a word. His body, his presence, the way he moves and carries himself, he's built like a warrior. Quiet, dependable, no need for Dutch's approval. He just… helps. Always. Doesn't expect anything back. That's rare."
Caleb could only agree. Charles was one of the few people he respected wholly, both in the game and in this new life. Someone who gave without needing praise and knew what was right and wrong.
"And then," Sadie continued, "you got the old guard... Dutch and Hosea. No disrespect, but their time's catching up with them. Hosea especially since he got that cough of his. I heard they taught Arthur and John, and I'm sure they were great in their youth. But time's not kind. They're not as sharp anymore, not as quick. And Dutch…" she paused.
Caleb looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
"…Dutch's slipping," Sadie said. "He used to be something great from what I heard around camp, maybe still is. But now he spends more time in that tent, cooking up big plans while everyone else does the heavy lifting. He talks more than he acts. That ain't leadership. That's hiding."
She gave a final nod. "That's why I rank you up there with Arthur, Charles, and John. You're not lookin' for anyone's approval. You think, you act, and you get things done."
Caleb was silent for a long moment, digesting all of it. His mind reeled. Every word Sadie had spoken aligned almost perfectly with the real truth of the Van der Linde gang. It was eerie.
Almost like she knew what was going to happen. But no, she was just sharp, observant. And she saw the fault lines in the gang's foundation better than most.
"Damn, Sadie," Caleb finally said, his voice low with respect. "You ever think about writing this all down? You'd make a hell of a profiler."
"Please," she snorted. "And what the hell's a profiler?"
He grinned. "Don't worry about it."
They shared a chuckle, the tension breaking for a moment. The road stretched before them, quiet and calm, the golden hour painting the trees in soft oranges and reds.
But Caleb couldn't help the unease that lingered beneath his amusement. Sadie was right. The gang was full of cracks, some small, some deep.
And the deeper they got into this life, the more those cracks threatened to become fault lines. Eventually, something, or someone, was going to break.
Still, for now, they had a job to finish. Then as they continued to ride, a gunshot cracked through the evening air.
Wofford chose that moment to regain consciousness, thrashing violently against his bonds. "HELP! OVER HERE!"
From the tree line ahead, three riders emerged, Lemoyne Raiders who must have been out on patrol during the fort assault and now they track them down. Their leader, a grizzled man with a scar across his nose, leveled a rifle.
"There they are! Get the boss!"
Caleb didn't hesitate. His Navy Colt cleared leather before the Raiders could fire another shot. The first bullet took Scar Nose square in the chest, knocking him clean off his horse.
Sadie was already moving, hitting him in the back of his head with the handle of her revolver, as he struggled and knocking him unconscious. "Down!" she barked at Caleb.
He dropped just as she fired over his head, her bullets punching through the second Lemoyne Raider's throat. The third turned to flee, but Caleb's Schofield spoke twice, both rounds striking the man's back.
Silence returned as abruptly as it had been broken. Wofford had gone still again, either playing dead or knocked unconscious during the struggle.
Sadie spat in the dirt, reloading methodically. "Guess we took too long looting around the fort and they saw us the moment we left, following us silently."
Caleb let out a grunt of agreement at what Sadie had just said, shifting slightly in his saddle. "Yeah, that makes sense. This didn't happen in the game," he muttered under his breath, barely audible. He shook his head. "Shouldn't've taken so long looting. Let's ride harder to Rhodes, avoid any more surprises."
Sadie gave him a firm nod. "Agreed. Last thing I want is another pack of these bastards jumping out of the trees."
With that, the two kicked their horses into a brisk gallop, the sound of hooves thundering against the dirt road as they put distance between themselves and the ambush site. The night sky with the moon light their way, shadows thickening under the canopy as they rode hard through the winding forest paths.
Behind Caleb, Wofford had gone still again… until he suddenly stirred, groaning through his gag before mumbling angrily, "Let me go. This is an atrocity. An abomination! Shame on both of ya! This here's illegal, the two of you are outside the law!"
Caleb turned in the saddle and laughed, loud and dry. The words were so familiar, it was almost comical how closely Wofford echoed the nonsense Caleb had heard when playing the game back in his past life. Now that he was living it, the delusion grated even more.
Without warning, Caleb reached back and gave Wofford a sharp slap to the back of the head. "Shut up," he said flatly. "We are the law. Hired law, to be precise. Your bounty poster's in our hands, and that gives us every damn right to bring your sorry ass in."
Wofford spat toward the dirt, struggling against his ropes. "What law? That paper don't mean nothin' to me! I don't recognize no jurisdiction from the so called United States! This whole operation's immoral and illegal!"
Sadie rolled her eyes. "Oh, he's one of those."
Wofford barked louder, clearly ramping up. "This ain't de jure! The federal government's got no authority over me or my land! I ain't no citizen of your made-up country."
Caleb smacked him again, harder this time. "Enough. Don't get all melodramatic like some damn stage actor. What the hell do you even know about 'de jure'? You're just a thug with too much time in the swamp, don't act like some kind of scholar."
"I ain't a criminal!" Wofford shouted with conviction. "I'm a soldier of the Confederate States! I fight for freedom! Unlike you two bounty hunter scums, takin' away a man's liberty for profit, killin' him in the process!" Caleb sighed and, without another word, delivered a solid punch to Wofford's temple. The man slumped over unconscious.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 2)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 2)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 2)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 2)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv 2)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 2)
- Teaching (Lvl 1)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 5x5x5)
- Acting (Lvl 1)
Money: 712 dollars and 35 cents
Inventory: 3,245 dollars, 7 gold nuggets, 5 gold bars, 4 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bag of jewelry, a gold ring, two silver pocket watch, a gold buckle, and a gold pocket compass
Bank: -