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...
Arthur grunted. "Or maybe it's just Dutch's leftover mess causin' more chaos. We stir up quite the hornet's nest, don't be surprised when they come swarmin' looking for the honey they looking for."
Caleb lingered a few feet back, pretending to busy himself with tightening his bootlace as he listened. His mind spun. This wasn't how it happened before, not exactly. In the game, Dutch's meddling with the families always led to disaster, but here, the feud seemed to be escalating on its own, sparked by suspicions after the dynamite chaos.
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dutch'll hear about this and think it's opportunity. He will say that now we can play one side against the other without them realizing it. Truth is, that'll only paint a bigger target on all of us."
Trelawny shrugged, unbothered. "Perhaps. Or perhaps it is an opportunity, if handled delicately. But you're right, delicate handling is… not our dear leader's strong suit these days."
Arthur gave him a sharp look. "Careful what you say, Trelawny."
But Caleb noticed something important in Arthur's tone: it wasn't conviction anymore, just a weary reflex. Like Arthur was saying it because he felt he had to, not because he believed it. That was what Caleb was waiting for, the cracks in Arthur's loyalty, the seeds of doubt that could be nurtured.
He stepped forward then, no longer pretending to busy himself. "Morning," he said casually.
Arthur turned his head. "Caleb."
Trelawny smiled warmly. "Ah, Mr. Thorne! Just the man we needed. Perhaps you can add your thoughts to this… delicate conversation."
Caleb gave him a wry look. "I doubt Dutch would call it delicate."
Arthur smirked faintly, then sighed. "Trelawny here says the Braithwaites and Greys are fightin' each other now. Startin' to blame one another for what happened."
Caleb nodded slowly. "That's how it starts. Suspicion, small fights. Then blood. Once it's blood, it don't stop easy." He paused, his voice quiet but firm. "If Dutch hears that, he'll see it as an excuse to push harder. To gamble more lives on some scheme. But all it means is the ground's even shakier than before."
Arthur studied him, brows furrowed. "That what you think?"
"It's what I know," Caleb replied, meeting his eyes. "Two families at each other's throats is bad enough. Throw Dutch into the middle of it, and you'll get nothin' but bodies and fire."
For a moment, silence fell. The only sound was the water lapping against the shore and the faint birdsong above. Trelawny looked between them, curiosity flickering in his eyes. He wasn't just gathering information, he was measuring Caleb, weighing him the way a gambler sizes up a table.
Arthur finally exhaled, long and slow. "I hate to admit it, but… you're probably right. Dutch won't listen, though. He'll hear 'families fightin'' and start talkin' about opportunity again."
"That's the problem," Caleb said. "Opportunity for him always means risk for everyone else."
Arthur gave a humorless chuckle at that. "Ain't that the truth."
Caleb glanced toward the camp, where the voices of others drifted faintly. He thought of Mary-Beth's words the night before, whatever decision you make, I'll follow you. He thought of Strauss and his debts, of Dutch's outburst, and of Sadie's fury. The web was tightening.
He looked back at Arthur. "When it comes down to it, you'll have to make a choice, Arthur. Not just about Dutch, but about yourself. About who you want to protect."
Arthur's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer right away. Caleb could see the war in his eyes, the loyalty to Dutch, the love for Hosea, and the doubt that have blossom to which he didn't want to admit.
Trelawny, sensing the heaviness of the moment, broke in with a flourish of his hand. "Well, gentlemen, whatever happens, I shall do what I do best, stay alive by staying out of the line of fire. I'll keep my ear to the ground in Rhodes, but don't expect me to pick sides. I value my skin far too highly."
Arthur shot him a look, but there was no malice in it. "Just don't sell us out, Trelawny."
"Perish the thought," Trelawny said smoothly, placing a hand on his chest. "I am, after all, a man of… flexible loyalties."
Caleb couldn't help but smirk at that. It was the closest thing to honesty Trelawny ever offered.
Trelawny tipped his hat with a theatrical bow, one hand sweeping across his chest. "Well, gentlemen, I have other matters to attend to. Au revoir." His grin was all charm, his eyes sharp as ever. He pivoted neatly on his heel, his coat tails flaring as he walked away, and not long after Caleb and Arthur heard his voice in the distance, calling out for Sean.
Caleb turned back to Arthur, watching the older man rub a hand across his jaw. "So," Caleb began, his tone level but edged with urgency, "what do you or Hosea have planned now? We both know lying low can only work for so long. Things outside are shifting faster than Dutch cares to admit. We can't just sit here and wait for him to make another call. Not when the whole board's already tilting."
Arthur grunted, the sound tired. "Ain't got any plans. Neither does Hosea. Same answer we gave you yesterday. Dutch said stay put, so here we are." He looked at Caleb then, eyes narrowing faintly. "But what about you? You got somethin' rattlin' around in that head of yours, don't you? If you could get out of camp, what'd you do?"
Caleb didn't hesitate. "If Trelawny can slip away and get a read on Rhodes, then we should be doing the same—but smarter. These families are on edge. If either the Braithwaites or the Grays figure out we're the ones stirring the pot, they'll come straight here. This camp won't hold. We need to move before suspicion finds us."
Arthur blinked, surprised, then let out a weary sigh. "Hell. You might be right. Both families are already blood-hot, and we ain't exactly invisible. We came into town, started makin' noise, helped the Grays stir the Braithwaites, and then Dutch's last damn plan was the biggest mess yet. Both families are on full alert." He shook his head slowly. "If they track us here…"
Caleb cut in softly, "Everyone's in danger. Especially if either family realizes we're not just drifters but the Van der Linde gang."
Arthur gave a humorless chuckle. "So what—you got a place in mind, then?"
Caleb nodded once. "That old plantation mansion. The one we cleared out with Lenny, remember? Took those rifles from the Lemoyne Raiders. It's hidden deep, and with the Raiders gone, it's just an empty shell. We'd need to clean it, sure, but it's big enough. Strong walls, a roof over our heads, space for everyone. Better than open ground."
Arthur looked at him, eyes narrowing in thought. Then, slowly, he nodded. "You mean Shady Belle. Yeah. That makes sense. Damned place's got ghosts, but it's secure. You're right—it'd be safer than stayin' here with the families sniffin' around."
He exhaled heavily, as though already picturing the argument to come. "I'll talk to Hosea. If he agrees, the two of us will bring it up to Dutch. Maybe—maybe—we can get him to listen. It's the best choice for everyone's safety, and covering our tracks is damn near the only thing we can do right now."
Caleb inclined his head in gratitude. "Thank you. I know Dutch won't make it easy. Hell, he might not even hear you. But if anyone's got a chance of steering him right now, it's you and Hosea."
Arthur gave him a long look, then clapped a rough hand onto Caleb's shoulder. "It's what I should do. My responsibility to keep folks here safe. That's all that matters."
With that, Arthur stepped away, his long stride taking him toward Hosea's tent. Caleb watched him go, then turned toward the center of camp.
He hadn't taken more than a few steps when raised voices caught his attention. Abigail, frantic, was gripping John's arm.
"I can't find him!" she cried.
John, already tense, frowned. "Can't find who?"
"Jack!" Abigail's voice cracked with panic. "I can't find Jack! I thought he was playing with Cain this morning, but then I saw Cain with Bill, and when I went looking in all his usual spots, he wasn't there! He's nowhere!"
Caleb could felt his stomach tighten as he watched Abigail's face pale, her voice cracking in panic. Jack missing. Again. His mind instantly raced back to his memories of the game, of the Braithwaites snatching Jack away and holding him captive in that cursed manor before giving him away to Angelo Bronte in Saint Denis.
He knew what was coming, or at least what should come, but things had shifted too much already. Micah was gone, Dutch was unraveling faster, the families were suspicious earlier than expected. Would they still take Jack? Or had Caleb's changes shifted that horror onto some new path?
Meanwhile John's face drained of color, his jaw tightening as panic rushed through him. "Abigail, listen, maybe he just ran off a bit further than usual. Kids do that. Don't, don't work yourself up." His voice shook as he tried to sound calm.
"Don't tell me not to worry, John!" Abigail snapped, near tears. "He's gone!"
John pulled her close, murmuring, "Just... just sit down here. Let me handle it. I'll get some of the boys to look outside camp. We'll find him."
"I'm comin' with you!" Abigail insisted, her eyes wild.
"No! Abigail, please," John said, his voice desperate. "Just stay here in case he comes back. I'll find him."
Caleb, standing a short distance away, clenched his fists. He knew the story, knew how fragile it all was, but Jack disappearing now, right when Dutch was unstable and the families were at each other's throats? The timing was worse than anything he could've prepared for.
He clenched his jaw. "Damn it…" he muttered under his breath.
John spun around, looking at him, eyes wide. "You hear her, Caleb? Jack's gone. Boy ain't nowhere around camp."
"I heard," Caleb said evenly, though his insides churned. He turned his gaze outward toward the woods. "If he wandered off, he couldn't have gone far. But if someone took him…"
Abigail's hands balled into fists at her side. "Don't you say that!" she snapped, her fear boiling over.
John quickly stepped in, putting an arm around her shoulder. "We'll find him. We always do. Just… sit tight, Abby. Please."
Mary-Beth had drifted closer during the commotion, her face pale as she listened. She glanced at Caleb, eyes wide with unspoken worry. He gave her the smallest nod, a silent promise.
Arthur returned just then, with Hosea trailing behind, both men immediately catching wind of the tension in the air. Arthur frowned. "What's all this racket?"
"Jack's missin'," John barked out. "Abigail can't find him anywhere."
Hosea's calm face hardened, the old fox narrowing his eyes as he turned toward the treeline. "How long's he been gone?"
"Since mornin' best I can tell," Abigail said, her voice trembling. "I thought he was with the dog, but Cain's been here the whole time."
Arthur muttered a curse. "Damn it all." He looked to John. "We can't waste time. Get a search party together, spread out."
Caleb stepped forward. "Hold on." His voice cut through, firm. Everyone turned toward him. "If it's just Jack wanderin', we'll find him easy. But if it ain't…" He paused, searching the worried faces around him. "We need to consider that this could already be the Braithwaites. Or even the Greys. Both families are jumpy, lookin' for a scapegoat after last night's mess. And what better target than the strangers that come into town? I don't believe that they wouldn't put people to keep an eye on us and even knew our camp."
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 6/10
- Luck: 8/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 4)
- Rifle (Lvl 3)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 3)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 2)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lvl 3)
- Persuasion (Lvl 3)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 4)
- Teaching (Lvl 2)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl 3)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
Money: 1,814 dollars and 46 cents
Inventory: 103,988 dollars and 50 cents, 7 gold nuggets, 58 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, 2 Colm's Schofields, and land deed (Parcel)
Bank: -