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The old man was pragmatic, realistic, everything Dutch wasn't these days. With that thought, he returned to his own tent. He unbuckled his gun belt, set it beside his bedroll, pulled off his boots, and lay down. Sleep came easier than he'd expected, the warmth of Mary-Beth's earlier words still lingering somewhere deep inside him.
The next morning, the sounds of camp stirred him awake, the thud of boots, the scrape of tin plates, voices calling back and forth.
He sat up, buckled his gun belt, pulled on his boots, and stepped outside. The air was fresh, the lake glittering under the early sun, and everyone seemed to be moving through their morning chores.
He was halfway to Pearson's table for breakfast when a voice called out.
"Caleb!"
It was Lenny, sitting with Arthur on a log by the shore. Arthur had a cigarette between his fingers, Lenny leaning in as if they'd been discussing something interesting.
Caleb walked over, nodding to both men. "Morning. What can I do for you gentlemen?"
Arthur exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke as he glanced at Lenny, then back at Caleb. "Lenny here's got some information. Might be worth our while."
Lenny grinned. "Some old colored people in town told me. Bunch of crazies. Real nasty bunch. Still think the Civil War never ended. They're holed up deep in the woods at a place called Shady Belle."
The name sparked instantly in Caleb's mind. Preaching Forgiveness as He Went. His Past Life Memory Skill dropped the details into place, the layout, the people, the danger, the reward, and the fourth place that became the gang's camp. He kept his face neutral.
"Oh, really?" Caleb asked. "And what exactly can we rob there?"
Lenny leaned back a bit, eyes bright with excitement as he clearly enjoyed the telling. "Word is they've got themselves a pile of cash. And weapons, lots of 'em. They've been selling to Cuba and all over South America for years. We take what they've got, we can keep some for ourselves, and sell the rest. Easy money, good gear."
Arthur exhaled smoke, eyeing Caleb. "If it's true, it's worth checkin' out. It won't be without trouble, though. These boys don't take kindly to strangers."
Caleb's mind was already turning over the possibilities, remembering where the guards would be, where the cash was likely kept, and how best to get in and out without the whole place turning into a shooting gallery.
He'd have to decide whether to play it exactly as he remembered or tweak it for the reality they were in now, especially with Dutch in the mood he'd been in lately.
Caleb nodded slowly. "Sounds like a good score. When do we ride?"
Arthur stood, crushing his cigarette under his boot. "Now. Just us three, keep it quiet and steady. I'm sure we can take them easily with just us three."
Lenny grinned. "Then what're we waitin' for?"
Seeing how excited Lenny was, both Arthur and Caleb let out a laugh. Arthur reached over, patting the young man on the shoulder.
"Go on, then," Arthur said, his voice carrying that steady, even tone of his. "Go get yourself ready. We'll ride out in several minutes."
Lenny, still grinning from ear to ear, nodded enthusiastically. "Alright, I'll be ready!" He stood up quick and made his way back into camp, his long stride carrying a bounce that betrayed his eagerness.
Arthur watched him go, shaking his head with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then he turned back toward Caleb. "Well, reckon we ought to get somethin' in our stomachs first. Ain't had breakfast yet myself."
Caleb felt his own belly remind him it had been since supper last night, and he was going to have breakfast but was interrupted as he was called by Lenny. "Yeah," he said with a nod. "Could use somethin' before ridin' out."
The two men walked together toward the smell of cooking. The big iron cauldron simmered over the fire, steam curling up in the cool morning air. Caleb slowed when he saw what was inside, blinking in mild surprise.
It wasn't Pearson's usual thick stew. Instead, the cauldron was filled with a lighter broth, rich with chunks of meat, carrots, potatoes, and other vegetables floating inside.
Arthur looked at it, then looked at Caleb, both men wearing the same pensive expression. Arthur cocked an eyebrow and turned his head, spotting Pearson behind the kitchen table, fussing with a knife and cutting board.
"Pearson," Arthur called out, half drawling his words. "What the hell you got here? Where's the usual stew?"
Pearson glanced up, puffing out his chest a little as though ready for this very moment. "Ah, well, I hear everyone, an' that means the both of you too, complainin' about eatin' my world famous stew every damn day."
He jabbed a finger at them, his eyes glinting with self- importance. "So this mornin', I decided to treat you ungrateful bastards to somethin' different. My world famous meat soup. With some vegetables of course."
Caleb and Arthur both exchanged another look t each other.
Pearson came around the table, wiping his hands on his apron as he continued, clearly warming up to his own speech. "Full of nutrition. Just like my stew, it'll fill you up in one bowl. Maybe more than one if you ain't watchin' your figure."
He grabbed the ladle, clattering it against the rim of the cauldron, and picked up a wooden bowl. With deliberate flair, he scooped up a generous portion, thick with meat and vegetables swimming in golden broth, before stepping over and thrusting it into Caleb's hands.
"Here," Pearson said, puffing proudly. "Try it. I assure you, it's delicious. Warms you right up."
Caleb stared at the bowl a moment. Then he glanced sideways at Arthur, who was very obviously trying not to laugh. Caleb shot him a glare, his lips pressing into a flat line, before lifting the spoon.
He scooped up a chunk of potato and beef with broth dripping off, steeled himself for disappointment, and took a bite.
The flavor hit his tongue and his eyes went wide. The broth was savory, rich with herbs, the meat tender, the vegetables soft without being mushy. Not just edible. Actually good.
Pearson folded his arms, smirking. "Well?"
Caleb swallowed, looked at him, and gave a firm thumbs up.
Pearson barked a laugh, triumphant. "Knew it. Enjoy the food." He turned back toward his table, humming under his breath as though he'd just proven a point to the whole world.
Arthur finally let out a chuckle. "That good, huh?"
Caleb wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Better than the stew, I'll say that."
Arthur shook his head, still amused, and grabbed himself a bowl. He ladled some soup, brought it to his lips, and tasted. His eyebrows lifted slightly as he chewed. Then he nodded. "Well, this is a big surprise. Man might actually know how to cook."
"Don't let him hear you say that too loud," Caleb replied, smirking.
They ate in silence after that, focused on the meal. The warmth settled into their bellies, the kind of food that carried strength for the road ahead. When they'd finished, both men set their bowls in the washing basin for whoever was on dish duty.
Together, they walked toward the hitching post.
Lenny was already there, standing beside his horse with the reins in hand, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like a boy itching for his first fight. When he saw them, he grinned and shook his head.
"What took you fellas so long?" he called, mounting up.
Arthur and Caleb both chuckled, sharing a look between them. Without answering, they mounted their own horses, leather creaking under them as they adjusted the reins.
"Alright," Arthur said, steady as always. "Let's ride."
Lenny spurred forward, taking the lead, and the three of them rode out of camp together. The morning sun climbed higher as they headed southeast, the rhythm of hooves drumming steady on the dirt path.
For a while, they rode in companionable silence, until Lenny finally broke it.
"So," he asked, turning his head just enough to glance at them, "how'd you two meet this bunch of Civil War crazies anyway? Both of you drunk?"
Arthur laugh drly, shaking his head at that. "No, not this time. Some of 'em harangued me, Caleb, and Sadie when we was comin' back to camp with supplies some time ago."
Lenny's eyes widened. "Really? With Mrs. Adler?"
Caleb laughed, shaking his head. "That's right. Don't sound so surprised. She handled herself just fine. More than fine, in fact. Terrifying, if you wanna know the truth."
Arthur chuckled at that, his agreement plain. "Yeah, Sadie's terrifyin' alright. And I reckon these crazies we're ridin' into? They'll be about the same."
Lenny grinned, nodding quick. "Down here at the south, in the state of Lemoyne, ain't no shortage of angry peckerwood idiots."
Lenny's words hung in the air, and for a while the three of them just rode, the morning sun breaking higher through the trees, light catching off the Spanish moss that draped like old ghosts from the oaks.
The land down here had a heavy feel to it, humid, slow, as if it still hadn't shaken off the blood spilled decades before. Caleb could feel it in his bones, and he knew Shady Belle would be crawling with the kind of men who fed on that bitterness.
Arthur spat into the dirt as they passed over a ridge. "Last thing this country needs is more damn fools who can't let go of the past."
Caleb hummed in agreement. "They're dangerous, though. Not just in their heads. Organized. Armed. You don't run guns to Cuba without knowin' how to protect your stockpile."
Lenny straightened in his saddle. His youthful energy was obvious, he wanted to prove himself, wanted to show Arthur and Caleb both that he was more than just the kid everyone teased. "All the more reason to hit 'em hard and fast. Surprise is our edge."
Arthur gave him a look, half stern and half amused. "Don't go thinkin' this is some dime novel shootout, Lenny. You get reckless in there, you'll be one more body for Pearson to stew in his pot."
Caleb chuckled, easing the tension. "Soup, Arthur. Pearson's world famous meat soup."
That got a laugh out of all three of them, and the sound carried across the flat open land. For a moment, it almost felt like the weight hanging over the gang had lifted, just a little.
They rode for nearly 25 minutes, southeast toward the swamps, the land growing wilder with each mile. The trees thickened, the air grew heavier, and soon the insects buzzed so loud it was like a constant hum in the background.
Caleb opened his map function in his system interface, the map of Shady Belle laying itself out in his mind like he'd been there yesterday. He could almost smell the rot of the place already.
When they reached a low ridge that overlooked the marsh, Arthur raised his hand and the three of them slowed. "We'll hitch here," he said. "Get the lay of the land before we do anything stupid." They tied up their horses in the shade and crouched down behind the brush.
Shady Belle sat ahead of them, a rotting old plantation house surrounded by sagging porches and half collapsed outbuildings. The once grand columns were stained brown with mildew, and the shutters hung loose. But despite the decay, there was life here, men in ragged Confederate coats milling about with rifles slung, a pair of guards at the porch steps, smoke rising from a fire pit at the side.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 6/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 3)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 3)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- 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 2)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
Money: 1,258 dollars and 48 cents
Inventory: 3,245 dollars, 7 gold nuggets, 5 gold bars, 4 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bags of jewelry, 4 gold rings, two silver rings, four silver pocket watches, a gold buckle, a gold pocket compass, a platinum pocket watch, and 2 Colm's Schofields
Bank: -