Redemption: Episode 1—Prologue

Authors Note: unfortunately, I do not own either Red Dead Redemption or Red Dead Redemption 2. Everything in those games belong to Rockstar Games.

Chapter 2: I (Don't) Have a Plan...

"A hundred and twenty years! A hundred and twenty years!" Bill shouted at the top of his lungs while walking around the camp in a bit of a daze.

"We heard you the first ten times, Mr. Williamson." Miss Grimshaw growled, annoyed by the man's non-stop rambling. However, her words fell on deaf ears as Bill continued to repeat the statement.

Watching the entire scene from his spot around the camp's main firepit, Arthur could only sigh. While he shared Miss Grimshaw's annoyance at the man's ranting he also understood that Bill was just trying to come to terms with Dutch's announcement. Hell, I feel like I need to yell a bit to. He thought as he looked at the gang.

Susan and the women were sitting quietly at the poker table with various degrees of shock, disbelief, and sadness dominating their faces. Javier laid against a tree, his guitar laying in his hands, fingers twitching but he hesitated from playing a cord, which was a first for Arthur. Near the chuckwagon Sean, Kieran, and Pearson were grouped around the table used for cooking. Arthur watched as Pearson, after a tense moment, grab a case of beer from the back of the wagon and began pulling a few of the bottles out and laid them out in front of them, grabbing one for himself. However, before he could bring the bottle to his lips, Sean knocked the bottle out of his hand, much to everyone's surprise.

Pearson was startled. "What was that for?!"

Arthur watched as Sean—a man that almost everyone knew preferred nonstop drinking and brawling while wearing a large grin on his lips—had a serious look on his face, something that Arthur didn't know the Irishman was capable of. "The cans." he said.

"What?"

"Remember when ya open'd them earlier this mornin'. They were spoiled rotten. Like they'd been rottin' fer a hundred years o' so."

"More like a hundred and twenty," Kieran mumbled, his voice hoarse. To Arthur it reminded him of how the former O'Driscoll used to sound when they had him tied to the tree: dry and scared. A feeling that Arthur could definitely relate to right now.

Pearson looked at them. "So?"

"So, if what was in those cans were somehow affected by us...travelin' here what do ya think chances are that the beer's just as spoilt?" Sean asked, surprising not only them but the rest of the gang with his reasoning. None of them have seen this side of him before.

Pearson, after getting over his surprise, looked down at the bottle he was about to drink from before sighing, dumping the contents of it at his feet before doing the same for the rest of the bottles.

Turning away from them, Arthur's gaze landed on the forms of Trelawny, Uncle, and Swanson. They each had haunted looks on their faces, though Trelawny's was much stronger and seemed to carry an aura of sadness. Swanson, he noted, had begun to take out his vial of morphine when Uncle put his hand on the man's shoulder. Looking up the former clergyman stood completely still as his eyes never left the form of Uncle. After a few seconds, Uncle slowly shook his head no and released his grip on Swanson's shoulder. Arthur was stunned when the religious man frowned before dumping the morphine to the ground, never taking his eyes off the spilling contents until it had all spilled out of the vial. Guess some good came out of this whole mess. Arthur thought.

Turning his head the other way, Arthur felt his insides turn cold when he saw young Jack and Abigail. The normally-bright four-year-old clung to his mother, his body shaking with fright, as frightened tears streamed from his eyes. Looking down at her son, Abigail tried to soothe Jack's worries and appear strong for him, though Arthur noted that her eyes held just as much worry and fear as her boy.

As his gaze shifted slightly, the enforcer noted that John stood by leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. To anyone else, whether they be a complete stranger or a member of the gang, it might've looked like that John was trying to distance himself from his small family however Arthur noticed the man's gaze never shifted from Abigail and Jack. Arthur could only sigh at the man's actions. He may not be the most observant but he could tell that John was struggling. Despite his words and manners in the past, it was clear to Arthur that John cared about the two but was being an idiot.

For a few moments he just sat there watching until he felt a presence approaching the fire. Turning his head he saw it was Strauss, gripping his accounting book in his right hand. "Herr Strauss." he greeted.

Strauss didn't acknowledge him. Sitting down next to Arthur, the Austrian began flipping through his book, peering at the pages with all of his writing. Arthur watched, unsure of what was going on in the man's mind, when suddenly the man began ripping pages out of the book and throwing them into the fire. The two men watched as flames ignited the pages. Looking up, Arthur thought he saw something flicker in the man's eyes as the pages burned, though what it was he couldn't really say.

Before he could say anything, he heard his name being called. Looking back he saw Hosea had just come out of Dutch's tent and was looking at him. Getting up, he approached the con artist. "Hosea." said Arthur.

The older gentleman took a second to look back before looking at Arthur. "Do you think maybe you could try and talk to Dutch?"

"Is he alright?" Arthur asked with concern.

"I honestly don't know." Hosea sighed. "Molly and I have been trying to get him to speak but he's been as silent as the grave. Just keeps looking at that newspaper you lot brought in from Valentine."

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Just try and talk to him, son. Both me and Miss O'Shea have tried our best but that man just won't budge. I'm hoping that you might have better luck while I check on everyone. Hopefully Charles and Lenny will be back soon with some news."

As the man was about to walk away Arthur had to ask. "You sure it was a good idea to send them out scouting the area?"

Hosea once again sighed. "I honestly don't know, Arthur. But Charles has proven capable of looking after himself and Lenny, well...when it comes down to it, he's as tough as you were at his age. Still...one never knows." With those words, he walked off towards the table where the women were sitting at.

Turning his attention towards the flaps of the tent, Arthur gazed at them for almost a minute before sighing. Steeling himself for whatever might happen, the man gently pushed the fabric far enough to create an opening.

Walking inside, Arthur was immediately greeted by the sight of Molly trying to gain Dutch's attention by rubbing his shoulders, however she was having very little success. The man in question just sat at the foot of his bed holding the newspaper close to his face, seemingly absorbed by whatever articles were printed on it.

Looking up from her position, Molly's face brightened when she saw Arthur. "Oh, Arthur, thank goodness."

"Molly." Arthur nodded. "You mind if I might have a word with Dutch?"

"Of course not," she said, relief clear in her tone. While she believed she could get through to the gang leader given enough time, she knew that in this situation there were only three people who could possibly get Dutch to open up and speak his mind. And since Mr. Matthews had rode off and John Marston was not around, Arthur was their best choice. Getting up, she looked back at Dutch for a moment before leaving to give them some privacy.

After the flap had closed behind the redhead, Arthur looked at the man who was almost like a father to him. His fingers gripped the pages, his face almost touching the paper's surface as he peered closely at the words within the article.

For a moment nothing but silence filled the tent before Arthur decided to speak first. "Dutch." he said quietly.

The gang leader, however, didn't respond.

Sighing to himself, Arthur made his way over to the cot and sat next to Dutch, who seemed too absorbed in what he was reading to acknowledge the man's presence. Taking a moment to study Dutch, Arthur wondered what he could say to get the man's attention and talk to him. Looking at the newspaper, he decided to try a different tactic. "Reading anything...interesting?"

The reaction wasn't instantaneous but Arthur's words managed to get a bit of a reaction out of Dutch. The man looked up from the newspaper and turned to face his visitor. "Arthur?" he acknowledged.

His voice sounded about as dry as Cholla Springs to Arthur, but for the moment the man didn't care. He was just glad that Dutch was talking again.

"Have you read this?" Dutch questioned, gesturing to the newspaper. When he saw the younger man shook his head, the gang leader handed him the paper. "It's mostly a bunch of nonsense. People speculating about what the President is doing behind their backs and backroom deals with other countries. Gossip about celebrities, who got in bed with who and which 'celebrity couple' divorced recently. Then there's this stuff about these...I guess there moving pictures, though today folks call 'em 'movies'. They talk about how they rate on some sort of tomato scale—don't ask—and how people are arguing about every little detail, what should've been changed...stuff like that."

"Sounds like the world is even more messed up than it was back in...well, in our day." Arthur muttered, his eyes roaming across the pages.

Dutch snorted. "No doubt."

As he read one article after the next, a thought crossed Arthur's mind. "Hell, I bet if he were here, Micah would probably enjoy this new century."

"Maybe…" Dutch admitted before his eyes widened. He had completely forgotten about Micah. Looking up at Arthur, he asked, "You don't think that he might've…"

"Hmph?" Peering down at his elder, it took a second for his words to cross through Arthur's mind. For a moment, he considered the man's words before shaking his head. "If you mean that he might've followed us, I don't think so. Besides, if he had he should've rode in on Baylock hours ago."

Dutch looked as if he wanted to say something before he considered the man's words. He couldn't deny that Arthur had a good point. If Micah had somehow followed them to this new century he would've most likely rode back as fast as possible to meet with them. From what Arthur had mentioned, the outlaw had a camp hidden near Strawberry. If what had happened to them had happened to him, it wouldn't take him long to ride back on Baylock. An hour, maybe two hours at most.

"I...suppose your right, Arthur." conceded the gang leader, lowering his head for a moment. He would miss him. While everyone else might've seen him as a bit of a loose cannon and a maniac, Dutch felt that the man had a heart somewhere underneath all of his bluster.

Looking up from the paper, Arthur watched as Dutch sighed before rubbing a hand down his face, completely exhausted by all that has happened. Before he could say anything the man had beaten him to it.

"Before you ask, I'm alright. Just—it's a lot to take in. One moment we were sitting here, trying to endure that storm, and now…"

"I understand." sympathized Arthur.

"No, son, you don't." Seeing the confused look on Arthur's face Dutch sighed, turning his head away so the man couldn't see his expression. "Back...back there, back in 1899...I always managed to come up with a plan...a way for us to continue living, if only a bit longer, until we found a way to escape the law and be free. But now…" Looking back towards Arthur, the gang enforcer was surprised by the defeated look in Dutch's eyes. "I-I don't have a plan, now. Not a single goddamn plan!" he said, hanging his head in shame.

Arthur looked at the man with his head down with surprise. For twenty years, ever since both he and Hosea picked him up and basically raised him, Dutch always seemed to have a plan. To hear the man say that he doesn't have a plan was something that he didn't expect to hear.

"You'll find a way, Dutch. You always do." encouraged Arthur.

Dutch looked unsure. "I...Arthur…"

Before he could get anymore words out both men heard horses approaching the outskirts of the camp followed by the voices of Charles and Lenny talking to Hosea. Putting the newspaper down, Arthur and Dutch looked at each other for a moment before making their way out of the tent.

Charles had just finished tying Taima to a hitching post while Lenny was having an in depth conversation with Hosea when both men walk out of the tent. Looking towards them the man gave each a brief nod. "Dutch. Arthur."

"Charles." Arthur acknowledged. "What did you find?"

Charles sighed, shaking his head in the process. "You two might want to sit down," he gestured towards the table they sometimes use to play dominoes. As both men approached the table Charles pulled out a map from his pocket and laid it out on the flat surface. He waited for Arthur and Dutch to sit down before pulling out a pencil and began making drawings on the paper. "We rode out towards Valentine first to see if we could learn anything before following the tracks east towards the oil fields. It was there we discovered that the refinery had been abandoned, and from the looks of the place it had been neglected just about as long as Valentine was."

"After talking with Lenny, I think I have an idea why. You see, at some point the oil must've dried up and the factory was shut down when it couldn't pump and refine any more." Hosea commented, standing to Charles' right. "And when the factory shut down Valentine soon followed. Not counting farmers or travelers, most of the population worked at the factory and when it shut down they were forced to find work elsewhere."

"Makes sense." muttered Dutch.

"We also discovered that a new line had been added." Lenny said, briefly taking the pencil from Charles' hand to mark where the line was. "Guess the people in charge of the railroad decided it would be better for the trains to no longer pass by a deserted livestock town so they had a shortcut built. It splits off left of Citadel Rock until it reconnects just before the crossing to Twin Stack Pass."

Looking at the new addition, Arthur's eyes widened. "That's just outside of our camp."

"Yeah." nodded the dark-skinned youth before handed the pencil back to Charles. "We saw the other set of points as we followed the line. How come you guys didn't notice it, Arthur?"

"We used a different route when we left that eventually caught up to the railroad but we must've gone past the points without even knowing it. Same thing as we were coming back." Arthur explained.

"While this is interesting, what else did you find?" Dutch pressed, starting to get a little impatient.

"We went south for a while," Charles stated, tracing their route on the map. "Following the rails until we crossed over into Scarlett Meadows. Ten minutes later we were on a hill overlooking the outskirts of Rhodes."

"And boy was it a sight, Dutch!" Lenny stated, looking excited. "I remember when it was just a small town nesting off the coast of Flat Iron Lake. Now, it's easily three times that size, with buildings, stone roads, and funny, horseless carriages."

This caught Arthur's attention. "Horseless carriages?"

"Yeah! Arthur, folks were getting into these strange carriages that had no horses pulling them but were much faster than any of our horses. Hell, I'll bet not even The Count would be able to catch up to them." He said, his attention focused on Dutch. The Count was a white Arabian horse that was Dutch's personal stallion and would only allow Dutch to ride him, bucking anyone else who attempted to saddle him.

Arthur and Dutch shared a look before turning back to face the two. "We'll talk about that later." Arthur said, before asked, "You got anything else to add?"

"Not much." Charles admitted. "We kept riding for a bit, getting the lay of the surrounding lands, before coming back."

For a moment no one said a word as they digested both men's findings. Then, finally Arthur sighed, crossing his arms over his chest before looking at the two. "Well...it's something, at least."

"Indeed it is." Dutch quietly said, his voice almost a whisper. "Good work."

With that, the gang leader stood up and made his way back to his tent before closing the flap behind him.

Sighing at the man's actions, Arthur shook his head before turning back towards the three gang members. The man's eyes fell on the second youngest member of the gang. "Lenny, you think you can go and check on Mr. Pearson? He probably needs help sortin' what hasn't been spoilt by whatever happened to us and what we can still eat."

"Sure, Arthur." With those words, the youth left the table to check with the camp cook to see how much food was still edible.

When the young man had left, Arthur turned his attention to Hosea and Charles. Immediately the elder among them inquires, "So, how is he?"

Sighing, Arthur shook his head before pinching the brim of his nose. "He's struggling, Hosea. This whole thing...I'm honestly surprised that he hasn't crumbled under the weight of all this." he admitted.

"Can't really blame him," Charles commented, "First Blackwater, than that thing with the O'Driscolls, and now this."

"It's more than that." Arthur said, whispering so that only those two could hear him. "Spoke with Dutch to see if he had any plans but he said that he hasn't a single one."

Both men's eyes widened and their brows rose. Along with his charisma, what made Dutch an excellent gang leader was his ability to conceive and execute plans for the gang. Like a general, he would consider their options carefully, planning every step until it all fell into place, before ordering his men into battle. Barring the incident in Blackwater and the original plan to rob Leviticus Cornwall's train, most of Dutch's plan had been successful.

Hearing that their leader, the man who almost preached that he had a plan every chance he got, did not have a plan—or even the beginnings of one—was shocking.

"So...what are we gonna do?" Charles asked after a small silence blanketed them for a moment.

Both Hosea and Arthur looked at each other. While Hosea had seniority and was pretty good at coming up with plans himself, Arthur was the gang's enforcer and, despite seeing himself as more of a do-er than a planner, when push came to shove he was not too bad with coming up with plans of his own. After a few seconds, Hosea gave the man a nod, silently telling Arthur that coming up with a plan—or the start of one—would be his responsibility.

Shifting his gaze, Arthur peered down at the map and examined the markings that both Charles and Lenny had made. After a few seconds he looked up at both men, a small spark present in his eyes. "Charles, you and Hosea stay here. Help out around the camp and tend to anyone who might need help. Maybe start with seeing what Pearson might need in terms of food. If needs be, hunt or go down to the river and catch some fish. I'll take Lenny and John and we'll ride to Rhodes. Try and learn as much as we can, see if we can find any information on what happened to us, before coming back." he said.

Hosea smiled. "Sounds like a plan." he said with Charles nodding his head in agreement.

After saying a few more words, Arthur parted from the two men and made his way over to where Lenny was, telling him of the plan, before approaching John. The man leaning against the tree noticed Arthur walking towards him but didn't make any movements. When the enforcer finally stood a few feet from the man John finally acknowledged him with a simple, "Arthur."

"Martson. Gonna need you to come with me." Arthur said simply.

John's eyebrows rose a bit but the rest of his face remained impassive. "Where're we headin'?"

"Rhodes." Arthur answered before explaining his plan to John. For his part, John seemed hesitant in riding with Arthur before agreeing to ride.

Walking towards the stalls, the men checked their horses before mounting them. However, before they were ready to leave, Sadie walked over to them. "Where are you fellas running off to?" she asked.

"Rhodes. Gonna see if we can find some answers or somethin'." replied Arthur. "Why?"

"Was wondering if maybe I could ride with one of you for a bit."

Her words took the group by surprise. "You want to ride with us?" Lenny asked.

"Yeah." the woman said, nodding her head.

Arthur shook his head. " I don't know if that's a good—"

"Listen." interrupted Sadie, glaring at the three horsemen. "I am sick and tired of playing the good little missus with roses in her hair and baking cherry pies all day. If I am kept here any longer and forced to continue working under that sweating, fat fool I'll take that goddamn meat cleaver he holds in his hand and skin him with it myself!"

"Here's hoping," John muttered, rolling his eyes.

"John!" Lenny cried.

"Alright you two. Knock it off." order Arthur before looking down at Sadie. He could tell that the woman was serious from her poster and the flaming glare in her eyes. In his mind, she almost reminded him of a barrel of gunpowder with a lit fuse, dangerous and ready to blow up at any moment.

After thinking about it for a few seconds, the man came to a decision.

"Alright. You can ride with me." he said, hoping he wouldn't regret this.

Sadie had a triumphant look on her face as she made her way onto Barkley. After making sure that she was in properly, the small group made their way out of Horseshoe Overlook and began their long trek towards the town of Rhodes, each person wondering what exactly they'll find out there in this new century.