RDR2: Faithless

2: Stir Crazy

Dutch and the others returned a few hours later, and by that point I had convinced everyone I was well enough to walk around. My leg was in significant pain, but I masked it because I couldn't deal with sitting around any longer. Sure, I knew I'd be given hell if I was seen in pain, but I knew it was worth getting a few hours of not sitting around doing nothing.

John was still bedridden, and, given my attitude to a perhaps worse injury, was being ribbed mercilessly about how pathetic he was being. I didn't partake in that, however, for his girl Abigail was giving him enough grief as it was.

John had a son with Abigail called Jack, he was five years old and a bright young boy. Unfortunately, John was adamant the boy wasn't his. Abigail had potentially slept with all the men in the gang before her and John got together, so you could understand his perspective, but there was also no denying the boy was his. Though Jack had the love of all the members of the gang, you could tell the lack of it from his father affected him.

I was brushing Roach when Dutch rode in with the others, and that earned me a look from him. He dismounted the Count, his own white Arabian, and made a beeline for me. I shoved the brush in my bag and turned to look at him, an innocent smile on my face.

"How did it go?" I asked before he could speak.

"He was leaving as we arrived, so we killed most of his men and stole his plans for the train robbery," he said simply, his face hard, "Why are you up?"

"I feel fine, Dutch," I sighed, "I've only been lying down for six hours, but I'm going stir crazy!"

"I don't care, you shouldn't be up and about yet," he argued.

"Hosea says its fine as long as I take rests and don't tear my stitches," I shrugged before looking around the men that had returned, "Where's Arthur."

Dutch didn't even get a chance to respond before Arthur was tearing into camp, a captive on the back of his horse, Hestia.

"Who the hell?" I asked but I was ignored, of course.

Arthur lifted the boy off his horse's back and headed towards the common area.

"Heh, found the little shit did ya?" Dutch walked over, "Welcome to your new home."

"Want me to make him talk?" Arthur asked.

"Nah, all we'll get is lies now," Dutch replied, "Uncle, Pearson, tie this fellow up someplace safe. We'll get him hungry first."

He advanced on the boy as Uncle and Pearson held him tight.

"We have a saying, we shoot fellows as need shooting, save 'em as need saving, and feed 'em as need feeding," he said quietly, "We're gonna find out what you need."

He laughed and looked at me.

"I can't believe it, an O'Driscoll in my camp!" he said, clapping Arthur on the shoulder as the boy was dragged away, "Good work, son. Go get some rest."

"An O'Driscoll?" I asked, staring at Arthur.

"He was with Colm leaving camp, but obviously split up with them, so Dutch asked me to collect him," Arthur shrugged, "Says his name is Kieran Duffy and he doesn't know anything, but we'll find out soon enough. Why are you out of bed?"

"What, so we're taking captives now?" I asked, a dark look on my face.

"He's an O'Driscoll," Arthur looked at me, "Don't act like you care what happens to him."

"Arthur, did you see how terrified he was?" I lowered my voice, Dutch was in earshot though he'd moved over to pet Roach, "Don't let Dutch or Micah or anyone do anything too harsh. You know what Colm is like!"