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Caleb watched it all with a thin smile, then spoke up in his cool, measured way. "Money's good, but don't forget, we can squeeze more from this place. Look for the rifles these Raiders were hoarding. Loot the bodies too, take their rifles. If they've got crates stashed, we haul it all back. Hosea can sell 'em, fetch more cash for the camp."
Arthur's eyes narrowed in thought, and then he nodded. Lenny's grin dimmed just enough to let determination set back in. "Makes sense," he said. "No sense leaving it to rot here."
Both Arthur and Lenny nodded firmly at Caleb's words, the agreement plain.
Arthur turned to face Lenny. "Lenny, help me check the bodies outside. Caleb, you clear the inside?"
"Done," Caleb said, already turning back toward the mansion.
After that, without another word, they split off. Caleb turned back into the house, boots echoing on the ruined floorboards. He crouched over the cooling bodies one by one, his hands quick and practiced as he searched their pockets and belts.
He came up with folded bills and loose coins, tucking them into his satchel. A small pile began to build in his mind's ledger. By the time he finished, he had gathered 64 dollars and 79 cents, two gold buckles with the Raiders' crude insignia etched into them, three silver rings dulled with grime, and a platinum pocket watch that glinted even under the dust and gore.
He slid each into his satchel without a word, the ritual second nature. Beside several of the dead, rifles lay abandoned, some leaning where they'd fallen, others gripped in cold fingers. Caleb pried four of them free, laying them across his arm before heading toward the broken doorway.
That's when gunfire cracked outside, sharp and urgent. His name rang out, Arthur's voice, loud and carrying. "Caleb! Get out here!"
Another voice, Lenny's, urgent and excited, followed. "We found somethin'!"
Caleb's brows furrowed. He hurried down the hall, rifles clutched tight, and stepped out into the sunlight. The smell of gunpowder was still heavy in the air, mingling with the wet stink of the swamp.
Arthur was standing near the wagon, his revolver still in hand, though the fight was finished. Lenny was at his side, his hands gesturing wildly toward the wagon hitched just to the left of the mansion.
"We found their stash!" Arthur shouted.
Caleb feigned surprise, raising his brows. "Really? Where?"
Lenny could barely contain himself, motioning toward the open wagon bed. "Over there, in the wagon! Two chests full of brand new rifles, Caleb. And boxes, full crates, of dynamite. Enough to blow half this swamp sky high. We already piled in the rifles we found scattered in the yard, some repeaters too."
Caleb walked closer, peering into the wagon with a practiced squint, though he already knew this was coming. He gave a slow nod, as though weighing it all. "Looks like luck was truly on our side. That's definitely a big haul alright."
Arthur had already clambered onto the driver's seat, reins in his hand. He twisted back toward them and called out. "I'll drive the wagon! You two, get that money chest up here when I bring it round. Then hop on."
Caleb hearing that nodded his head and shouted back, "Okay!"
Arthur clicked his tongue, urging the horses forward. The wagon groaned, wheels crunching over broken shell and packed mud as he steered it into position in front of the porch.
Caleb and Lenny bent together, straining as they lifted the iron bound strongbox once more. The weight of it dragged at their arms, their boots sinking slightly in the muck as they carried it.
"Easy now," Caleb muttered, more to keep their rhythm than anything.
With one final heave, they got it up into the wagon bed, the chest thudding into place beside the crates of rifles and dynamite.
Arthur glanced back down at them. "Good. Now get yourselves up here. We ain't stayin' a minute longer than we have to."
Lenny climbed up first, settling onto the shotgun beside Arthur, still beaming from the victory. Caleb took a longer look at the plantation before pulling himself up after them, sitting on the back alongside the stash.
Arthur cracked the reins, and the wagon lurched forward. The horses snorted, eager to be away from the blood and thunder. The three of them also don't forget to whistle, so as their horses would follow them back to camp.
The ride started rough, the wagon bouncing over the churned ground of the yard, but soon the road smoothed into the damp dirt track that wound back through the bayou. Spanish moss hung heavy, swaying like the weight of ghosts, and frogs croaked in the reeds.
For a time, they rode in silence, save for the creak of wood and the rhythmic clop of hooves. Then Lenny spoke, his voice still colored with excitement. "I can't believe it. Money, rifles, dynamite, all of it. Dutch is gonna lose his damn mind when he sees."
Arthur gave a bit of grunt, not entirely pleased. "That's what worries me, kid. Dutch likes money, sure, but he likes firepower even more. This much iron and powder? It'll put more big ideas in his mind."
Caleb leaned back against the side of the wagon, his gaze fixed out into the misty trees. "It already has, Arthur. You know how he thinks. Big scores, big guns, bigger risks. We just handed him every reason to push for much bigger plan."
Arthur's jaw tightened. He said nothing more, but the unease in his silence was thick.
Lenny, though, was still too high on victory to notice the undercurrent. "We did good," he said again, quieter now, as if trying to convince himself. "We really did."
Caleb let the boy have that moment. He'd earned it. But inside, Caleb was already turning over what came next, how to keep the gang steady, how to keep Dutch's ambition from devouring them whole.
Shady Belle loomed in his mind's eye, not just as a hideout, but as the stage where Dutch's hunger would grow teeth if they ever in the end moved there, for one reason he familiar with or another.
"You think Dutch'll make this our new hideout?" Lenny asked after a while, eager to take his mind off their previous topic.
Arthur knowing what he thinks, decide to bite the topic as he shrugged. "Might be smart. Place is very defensible, very secluded, and it's far enough from town and touch of civilization to avoid trouble."
Caleb hearing what they said chuckled and decided to join in on the conversation as well, saying, "Well, you two are right. This place is much better in terms of safety. Big house, wide view of anyone comin' down the road, tucked far enough in the swamp that the law or bounty hunters wouldn't stumble on us by accident. But don't forget the drawbacks. It's a swamp. Full of mosquitoes, sickness in the air, and you'll be sleepin' side by side with alligators. Lord knows what else crawls outta that muck at night."
Arthur let out a laugh, shaking his head as he guided the wagon through a curve in the trail. "So that's it then? The great Caleb Thorne, gunslinger, tracker, and all around hard case, afraid of a few bugs and a couple of gators?"
His voice was teasing, that familiar dry humor slipping into his words.
Lenny laughed too, catching on, his grin wide. "Oh really? You hear that, Arthur? Caleb's finally got himself some fear. And here I thought nothin' in this world could make him nervous."
Caleb laughed with them, shaking his head. "Don't twist my words, boys. I'm not sayin' I'm scared of 'em. Just tellin' you the downsides. A swamp ain't a comfortable home, that's all. A bit of repellent and a swat'll handle the bugs, and as for gators—" He mimed cocking his rifle and sighting down the barrel. "—a shot to the head puts an end to that problem quick enough."
Arthur let out another chuckle. "Suppose that's true."
"Exactly," Caleb said with a smirk. "I'm just bein' practical."
The three of them broke into laughter again, their voices carrying into the damp air of the bayou, before letting the conversation drift. For the first time since stepping into Shady Belle, Caleb could finally breathe a little easier.
He leaned back against the crates of rifles, one arm resting casually over the edge, and pulled open the corner of his mind that always hummed with the faint blue glow of the system only he could see.
[Skill Level Up!]
Rifle: Level 2 → Level 3
Horse Mastery: Level 3 → Level 4
A thin smile crossed his lips. Not bad at all. The firefight had sharpened his shooting even more, and the ride out here, handling horses under fire, had paid off too. Combined with the valuables and the heavy chest of cash, it had been a profitable run all around.
He let the screen flicker away and focused back on Arthur and Lenny, who were now swapping stories of the raid, laughing in bursts as the wagon creaked along the muddy road. Caleb joined in when it felt natural, tossing in his observations, letting the camaraderie settle.
The miles passed like that until finally the trail opened out, the trees thinning. Ahead, their camp at Clemens Point came into view. The familiar cluster of tents and wagons stood nestled with the lake at their back as a view, smoke rising from the cooking fire at the center.
The wagon rumbled closer, and as the gang spotted them, voices rose in surprise. A handful of figures broke away from the campfire, moving toward the road where the wagon rolled in. Sean was first, his red hair glinting in the afternoon light, with Javier close behind, then John, Uncle, and a few others straggling in curiosity.
Arthur eased the wagon to a halt just outside the camp's perimeter, the horses snorting and stamping, glad to be still again.
Sean called out, his Irish lilt bright with mischief. "Well now, look at this sight! What in the hell did the three of ye drag back with ye? Some new treasure? Or just a heap o' junk?"
Arthur hopped down from the driver's seat, dusting off his coat. His tone came out dry, sharp as a knife. "We brought back valuables, Sean. Unlike you, sittin' on your arse all day, not on guard duty, not helpin' with chores. Just runnin' your mouth as usual."
A ripple of laughter spread through the group gathered nearby.
Sean clutched at his chest as if wounded. "Oh, Arthur Morgan, you wound me! And here I was, lettin' the others do a bit o' work so they'd feel useful. If the great Sean MacGuire goes and does everything, what's left for the rest of ye to do?"
"Boo!" someone shouted from the back, and the others joined in, jeering at Sean good naturedly.
Arthur only shook his head and moved to the back of the wagon. Lenny jumped down after him, while Caleb stayed seated a moment longer, scanning the camp.
The curious stares, the way every man and woman leaned forward to see what they'd brought, it was the same every time they came back with a big score. Excitement, hope, and that faint hunger in their eyes for what Dutch might promise them next.
Hosea pushed through the crowd now, his lined face calm but alert, eyes sharp as ever. He gave a nod to Arthur, then to Lenny, then to Caleb. "So. What did you boys bring us this time?"
Caleb stepped down from the wagon bed, landing with a crunch of boots on dirt. He spoke in his steady tone, laying it out plain. "Two chests filled with new rifles. A pile of used ones we gathered up too. Boxes of dynamite, enough to make some trouble if we wanted. And one chest full of cash. All of it's thanks to Lenny here, he found the lead in Rhodes, brought it back to Arthur and me."
...
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) → (Lvl 3)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 3)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3) → (Lvl 4)
- 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: 1,323 dollars and 27 cents
Inventory: 3,245 dollars, 7 gold nuggets, 8 gold bars, 7 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bags of jewelry, 4 gold rings, 2 silver rings, 4 silver pocket watches, 3 gold buckles, 1 gold pocket compass, 2 platinum pocket watches, and 2 Colm's Schofields
Bank: -