Chapter 8

I woke up about a mile from the cabin, but I wasn't through with it. Bear was nearby and we decided to call our Horses and meet back at the cabin so that we could suss out what went wrong.

Then I told Bear that I might be lagging a bit. I wanted to talk to Horse.

Horse came when I whistled, as I expected. What I didn't expect was how calm he was.

I patted his nose as he came up to me, likely expecting me to jump on and take off, but he wasn't a normal horse and I certainly wasn't going to start treating him like one.

"I got you killed again," I said as I pulled his head into a tight hug. "Sorry about that."

He pressed against me and huffed.

"While getting shot is," he sighed, "literally the worst, I was playing this game long before you got here. This will not be the last time either of us dies."

I shook my head as I broke the hug and climbed up and into the saddle.

"No, it won't be." Then I spurred him a little. "I'll be damned if I don't find out why it happened though."

We rode through the woods, with Horse driving. He knew where we were going and it gave me time-enough to figure out what was going on.

Immediately, the first thing that I was trying to figure out was what had happened to Coot.

It was clear to Horse and me that he had to have died. He wasn't answering a single chat message and that wasn't like him.

Then there was all of this mess with Foghorn Lee. I couldn't figure out if this was a trap set by him but using players to do it, or if he was just a pawn in RadicalLarry19's petty revenge on us.

When we got close to the cabin, Horse slowed down.

"Check your map," he said. He wasn't whispering because I was the only one who could understand him.

"I don't see anything," I said. "I can see Bear on the backside. I don't know what he's doing, but if he saw anyone he'd probably tell us."

Horse took off again and we came up to the still blood-soaked path that led up to the house.

I hopped down but not before asking him to look around outside and let me know if he saw anything like a clue.

"Is this what we do now?" He snorted. "CSI: Easter?"

I shrugged, "It's something new to do at least. Can't always be shooting and robbing folks."

Moving toward the back of the house around the right side, I had to climb through the fence and noticed all the bullet holes in the wood, the dirt, the house, just everywhere. Surprisingly, no arrows, though. When I finally found Bear, he was kneeling and looking at some marks in the dirt.

"The game is doing its repairs, but we got here just in time." He pointed at the ground. "Someone died here." He frowned. "I can't tell much more than that." He turned and walked away from the house by a few feet before stopping to point at new marks. "But any mountain man worth their spit could tell you that several horses were back that way, at the tree line, sitting still for a while before we got here."

"The bounty hunters?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I don't think so. We watched most of them arrive and someone was hogtied over there." He gestured toward the fenced-in camp with the drying rack. "If I were to guess, I would say that Foghorn or someone was here to meet us, just like the quest, or job, or whatever, said, but someone got here first."

"Larry?" I deduced.

"I don't know, but likely," Bear agreed.

“That doesn’t make sense,” I put my hands on my hips. “Larry took an NPC? He can do that? Or, what would he even do with him?” Then another thought struck me. “Even if this wasn’t a game, he is still a man in charge of some big criminal gang. Wouldn’t that be like stealing Al Capone? Someone would come looking for him.”

“Not nice people, either,” Bear agreed.

I shook my head. “I don’t get any of this. Why do it? Just to inconvenience us on one job? To kill us dead for an hour? And where the hell is Coot? It took me half an hour to get here, and we’ve been talking for a bit. What happened to him?”

Bear just shrugged.

Coot was a resource, and would be helpful, but more than anything I just wanted to know what had happened and how he was.

“What if this had nothing to do with us?” Bear asked me.

“It’s Larry,” was my immediate response. “Anybody else, I would think you might be right, but this was Larry and the guy from the one job that Larry tried to screw us on. The odds of it having nothing to do with us are smaller than if it does.”

“Hey!” I could hear someone yelling from the front of the house. “Hey!”

It sounded like Horse …

… who only I could understand.

“Shit,” I hissed, dropping into a crouch and pulling my pistol. I expanded my minimap and saw them.

An entire posse of the local law enforcement.

“Why can’t we catch a break?” Bear asked as he fell against the back wall of the cabin and started checking his shotgun over. “No Coot or Winnie, either. Not good.”

Then a thought crossed my mind.

“We’ve been set up,” I said. I put my pistol away and turned to Bear. “Put your gun away. We need information and dying just puts us right back here in an hour.”

“What are you going to do?” Bear hissed as I started walking around to the side of the cabin.

“I’m fixing to get myself arrested.”

I was halfway to the front of the house when Bear came running up beside me.

“I hate this,” he said.

“Me too,” I agreed.

That was when one of the posse saw us. He snapped to attention and took aim.

“Over here,” he said to his companions. “Hands in the air,” his voice was like something from a cop drama, but with a drawl.

We continued forward, thrusting our hands up and awkwardly stepping through the fence line.

I didn’t even try to count how many of them surrounded us. They were all dressed in the standard cowboy browns and hats and layers and they were all aiming their guns at us.

When we were ordered to stop in the center of the path to the cabin, and exactly where we had tried to hold our ground just over an hour before, the group directly in front of us parted to let a more official lawman step up to us.

He looked like a doofus. I mean that in a nice way, though. It wasn’t his face or clothes, so much as his bowler hat. Every single time I saw someone in one of those it took me back to The Three Stooges. What wasn’t helping the memory, was that his hat was clearly covering up a bald head.

Aside from the bowler hat, he was wearing a tan and brown suit. The entire thing reminded me, once I put aside the Stooges, of what the Pinkerton Detectives tended to look like in those old westerns. Every club needed a uniform and the Pinkertons had the suits with the dumb hat.

Oh, and he did have a badge. It was pinned on his chest. His mama must be so proud.

Sorry, I was really trying to get into the outlaw mood.

Curly walked up to me and reached into his jacket. Just like some stupid movie, Bear and I flinched. This didn’t slow Curly’s motions, though. Just as quickly as his hand flashed into his coat, it came out with a large piece of paper that he held up.

“Sammy-hashtag-zero-four-two-one?” He asked.

“Since the day I was born,” I smirked.

“I am Agent Dalton Hayes of the Redbriar Detective Agency. Last night, we were given a tip that you would be here. You and your companion are under arrest for the murder of 13 men, including a gentleman of high regard in this country, Mr. Foghorn Lee.” He spun me around and began putting some heavy-duty looking cuffs on my wrists. “Do you have anything you’d like to say?”

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Another man, dressed much like Agent Hayes, came over and began shackling Bear.

“Redbriar? Not Pinkerton? So, are you the discount version? Or did we get the premium package?” I wasn’t sure if I was fishing for actual in-game information, or simply trying to piss him off. Either might be useful.

“No Pinkerton’s here, miss.” His voice carried a weird sense of satisfaction with it, as if he had won some competition that I was unaware of. “Just Redbriar.”

***

We were lucky enough to get thrown into a large iron wagon with bars on the back doors and small rectangular holes near the ceiling for airflow. We sat back there with two guards.

Something I hadn’t noticed when the shackles went on was that I lost access to my HUD. That combined with them taking my weapons and bag, I was just a woman on an uncomfortable bench in a jerky wagon.

It also meant that I couldn’t talk directly to Bear without others hearing.

I didn’t care much about that.

“Think we could take them,” I lifted my wrists with the shackles behind my back and nodded toward the two sitting across from us. Our guards were two more of the Redbriar detectives. They both held shotguns on their laps and frowned at my question.

Bear, who’s head hadn’t turned away from the door to our traveling prison, finally faced me.

A glare was all he provided.

“You alright?” I asked my forlorn friend.

He let out a long sigh. “The jails here are real, and I wish we had come up with a way to tell you that before this plan. They won’t execute you, they’ll just stop you from escaping.”

I shrugged, “That’s shitty, but it doesn’t change anything. I mean,” I made a big shrug with my shoulders to indicate, as best as I could with shackles on, the rest of the world, “all the old Coots out there, and they caught us. We’re special, because we’re not going to be held long.”

My message was clear as I could make it: Worst case scenario, Coot could save us.

Through gritted teeth, Bear replied, “If only we knew where we were going.”

Alright, that was a valid point. It didn’t matter if Coot was out there to save us, he likely couldn’t tell where we were.

Except he could. We were still part of The Pink Flamingos. He should be able to see us on his map.

I started to open my mouth but Bear already knew what I was thinking and shook his head.

Just to clarify, he added. “It’s too bad these shackles close off our HUD and turn off our maps.”

Got it. No maps, not weapons, no Coot.

“Where’d you put him anyway?” the detective across from me asked.

“Who?” I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Lee,” he huffed. “Who the hell did you think I meant? He should have respawned, but he hasn’t. Which means you didn’t murder him, you hid him away. So, where is he?”

“So, you acted on a tip without any evidence?” I laughed. “Let me guess, law enforcement isn’t new to you.”

Quicker than I expected, he hit me across the face. When Bear got to his feet in protest, the other Redbriar hit him in the chest with the butt of his shotgun.

“Back down!”

Bear grunted as he slammed back into the seat.

“We didn’t kill or kidnap anyone,” I could feel blood on my split lip. “We were there to collect on a job. The Kell-”

Bear elbowed me hard.

Oh right. Foghorn Lee was part of a large criminal enterprise. Whether or not the Redbriar’s knew about it, I had no idea, but it wouldn’t do for me to incriminate ourselves further.

I shot Bear a glare with a wink that only he could see. “Like I was saying; He had us running groceries out to the Kelly farm west of Aberdine. The family is sick and can’t make trips on their own.”

They smirked, which let me think they knew exactly who Lee was and they were likely corrupt. Which would also explain why they moved so quickly on a ‘tip.’

“And yes,” Bear said. “I just don’t think we should yet.”

That took me a moment until I realized he was finally getting around to answering my original question.

The two across from me didn’t seem to get it.

“No, you’re right,” I said as I looked the one across from me dead in the eyes. “Let’s gather more information before we escape.” The looks on their faces switched from mildly entertained to annoyed, but before I could say anything, I rattled the cuffs behind my back. “Also, are these for sale? These would be great to have.”

I got hit again.

“Can you respawn?” I shouted at the one who hit me. He hit me again, this time while he laughed at me.

Fuck it.

I leaned back and kicked him hard in the chin. His friend started to rise, but Bear did the same move. It did little more than stun both of our guards, but it felt good.

The guard across from me started to recover when I lunged and threw my shoulder into his solar plexus. He wheezed and bent forward.

I was mostly still standing, even if the wagon was making it harder than not. So, I bent over and whispered in his ear.

“You better shoot me if you like your ear.”

“Wha-?” his question ended in a scream as I sunk my teeth into his dirty ear and tore at it.

I looked back at Bear and his guard while mine writhed trying to catch his breath and stop the pain and blood coming from his ear. The bloody one uncorked something I laughed as I spit out his own ear at him.

“Chug it, baby! Grow mama another ear to bite!” Then I turned to Bear’s guard. Bear had returned to sitting as the guard just stood, wide-legged, not sure what to do with his gun.

“You’d better shoot me,” I said. “Or I am going to bite your ears next.”

A sharp pain to the back of my head ended all of my thoughts.

***

Alright, I will admit that I hadn’t been expecting them to knock me unconscious.

I woke up to find that I had been cradled in Bear’s lap for the journey. Our guards had decided that it was safer to guard us from outside of the wagon.

The blood that still stained the floor and benches was satisfying.

“It was a nice try,” Bear said, noticing that I was stirring.

“It would have been nicer if he killed me.”

Bear agreed and then placed a hand on my shoulder as I started to get up.

“Slow, you might have a concussion. Also,” he tugged at a fur blanket that was on top of me that I hadn’t noticed was there, “you might want to keep that on.”

That was when I noticed how cold I was. It was damned near freezing in this metal box.

“Did we steal an ice cream truck or something?” I asked.

“I wish,” Bear shook his head. “No, I heard one of them say we were going north of the mountains, through the forest to something called Pine Hollow.”

“Is that a town?” I hadn’t heard of it in my short time here.

My friend shrugged. Neither had he.

“Why is it so cold?” I asked.

Bear nodded toward the back and I had to twist around, sitting up fully, to see it.

Snow.

We were still on a trail, but we were surrounded by snow.

“I’ll be damned.” It was so bright and clean. It was surprising. “Well, I hope Coot packs warm.”

Bear shook his head. “You still think he can save us?”

“Of course I do,” I pulled the blanket up tighter around me. “I just don’t think he can do it before I can.”

Bear laughed.

I almost fell off the bench as the wagon came to a jarring stop.

“Just get in the damned wagon,” one of the posse was shouting as he wrestled with something.

“I won’t be manhandled by the likes of you,” it sounded like an old woman. “Get back. You don’t know who I am.”

“Yes,” the cowboy said, “I do. You’re that damned witch. Now get in.”

With that, they came around to the back of the wagon and I could see our newcomer. It was an older woman, but it was hard to tell. She had known where she was traveling and was wrapped in furs and clothing that almost hid her smaller body.

As another of our arresting party came to unlock the door, Bear started to get up. I touched his arm. Now was not the time. If they weren’t going to kill us outright, and therefore let us respawn somewhere else, then we needed more information. They might not know where Lee is, but they had a vested interest in his return, and so did we.

Bear relaxed as they threw the ‘witch’ in with us. Noticeably, she wasn’t shackled.

As the door was locked back up, I heard someone else shout, “Only another mile.”

With my hands shackled behind me, there wasn’t much I could do to assist this woman, so I waited for her to right herself and sit on the bench before I said anything.

“Are you alright?” I asked softly.

“My dear,” the woman’s face turned to me and I saw the wild look in her eye, “you heard them. I am a witch. I am more than alright.” She snorted and spit on the floor. “What are you in for?”

“I think they said we murdered 14 people,” Bear said.

“13,” I corrected. “But, that’s dumb. I killed way more than that yesterday and it wasn’t any of the ones we’re accused of killing.”

“Oh, my. You’re dangerous folks. I think we’ll get along.” I couldn’t tell what the noise was she made after because she buried her face into one of her many scarves. It was either a choking fit or she was cackling.

“Why are you here?” Bear asked. “Witchcraft illegal?”

“Almost always, but not this time. I’m something of a wandering trader. Redbriar doesn’t like it.”

“Trader of what?” I asked.

She winked. “Just about anything you can think of. You must be new. Anyone can sell to me, but in later jobs you’ll learn more about me and I pay the most then.” It was weird hearing her go off-script but kind of worked because she was seemingly crazy. “When you find pretty things, or shiny things, or someone you kill has a gold tooth, you bring that to me, and I give you coin. If you bring me coin, I sell you things that you cannot find anywhere else.”

“What kind of things?” Bear was leaning in now. I joined him.

“Well,” the witch looked annoyed, “if you weren’t cuffed, I could let you look at my inventory. When you’ve done something about that, let’s talk.”

With that, she pulled away from us and pulled the scarves over her face. Essentially, she shut the door in our faces.

The wagon took a sharp turn a few minutes later and then we went through a large stone wall with wooden doors for a gate.

We couldn’t see much except for what was behind us as we went through the walls.

A rider that could see us through the wagon bars smirked when he saw me eyeing the walls.

“That’s right, take it in,” he was almost shouting the words. “Welcome to your new home away from home. Welcome to Fort Pine Hollow.”