Bad Beginnings (A RDR2 Fanfic)

Back to Hell

Arthur had his plan and was ready. He went through the house and found some gunpowder, paper, a knife, and his newly bought matches. With these items, he left Copper at home, after giving him a belly rub, and headed over to the jail.

He'd become quite independent in his young age, so he confidently, but sneakily, he went around to the back of the jail his father was held in.

He did his very best to stick paper and gunpowder in the spaces in between the boards. It was difficult to squeeze the stuff in there, and the wind kept on blowing his hair and the gunpowder all in his face.

The sun was now setting, and the streets got quieter and the saloon louder.

He struck a match, cupping it behind his hand so that the wind wouldn't put it out. The orange glow sparked the adrenaline in his blood and increased his anxiety. This was it.

With the warm light as his only means to see as the sun fully dropped below the horizon, he lit the paper and gunpowder on fire, and ran.

He watched the slow progress behind a nearby tree. He wasn't the religious sort, but he was praying to God that his plan worked.

Before he knew it, the flames grew, spilling onto the dry grass, the wind picking up the sparks and carrying them throughout.

Nobody notice the growing fire, until the flames went up the side of the building and around the front.

A lone woman screamed shrilly down the road. Arthur waited. Soon the town was a riot, as the building and its neighbors went up in flames. And that's when it happened.

The sheriff and his faithful deputies came out of the burning structure, wheezing and coughing, bringing large tendrils of flame and smoke behind them. And with them, the inmates.

His father was the one closest to the building and no one was paying attention. His clothes were a mess, he had lost his hat, and his usual handlebar mustache was messy as his stubble grew out.

Arthur snuck up to him, gripping a knife he stole from the house. Thankfully, in their rush, they only tied his hands with rope.

Arthur tapped his father on the shoulder. His pa jumped, but, as soon as he saw him, he looked proud of Arthur for the first time in his life.

"Son, you came for me?"

"Of course, sir," Arthur replied. "I couldn't just leave you." The first smart thing he's said in a while.

Arthur cut him free quickly, and they ran, feet loudly smacking hard dirt, but still unable to be heard over the crackling of the flames. The chaos around them was maddening. People were running from the building, trying to get water to put it out.

They found Lyle's horse near the back of the building. His father quickly clambered on, then lifted Arthur on behind him.

Clinging for dear life to his father, Arthur watched behind them as they rode past the scene. The silver light of the moon and the orange of the fire glowed upon the chaos of the town as they rode away.

"Thank you son for getting me," his father says. "But you could've done it sooner, maybe."

Arthur signed. "Yessir." His life was back to being the hell it was before. At least there was the money.