Birds of a Feather II

Micah

Soon as the Pinkertons descended on Beaver Hollow, Micah knew his deal with Milton was over. Not that it was much of a deal in the first place. Bastard hadn't offered him immunity or to lower any charges, just to delay them.

Micah knew he'd been short on time with Milton, but he'd thought he'd be able to string those agents along with just enough information to keep Milton off his back, but not enough to ruin the good thing he had going on with the gang. He hadn't realized the bastard would prove the more impatient one.

Maybe Milton suspected from the start Micah had no intention of following through completely. He'd thought the bare minimum of his cooperation would be enough, when he'd signaled to them in Lakay at Dutch's arrival. Then again, even Milton wouldn't turn a blind eye when Micah hadn't held back from killing agents in Lakay or Annesburg.

In the end, it didn't matter. Milton wasn't about to cut him loose if he captured Dutch anyway. Micah would do what he always did: survive.

After the storm, in the morning, he, Dutch, Uncle and Bill still hadn't left Fort Brennard. Micah had resorted to prowling around the inside of the fort walls, unable to mask his impatience at having to wait for Dutch to make a decision at what they were gonna do next.

Bill had stationed himself stiffly near the front gate, standing guard as if he were a sentry still serving the army, his one arm heavily bandaged with soiled gauze. Uncle had actually bothered to feed the horses, but after that activity he'd sat down against the lone shack and started drinking from his newly found supply.

Dutch didn't emerge from the cellar below until nearly noon. Yet, when he did, his expression was clear, rejuvenated, and he strode with confidence. "Gather 'round, everyone. Gather 'round."

Since it was just the three of them for him to call to, it only took a moment for all of them to join Dutch outside the small house in the center of the fort.

Ever the obedient soldier, Bill informed him as he walked up, "No sign of any patrol, Dutch."

"Good job, Bill," Dutch complimented, his tone indicating he was in a better mood than yesterday. "This has been a minor setback in the grand scheme of things. Milton took our camp, some of our friends, my horse." Dutch grimaced. "But he will not take our dignity. We are tougher than them, smarter than them. Milton thinks he's trapped us, that he's got us on the run. He is wrong."

"You got any ideas for what we do next?" Bill asked.

"Indeed I do, son." Dutch paused before announcing to them all, "We'll head for Moonstone Pond."

Uncle and Bill stared at him blankly, not understanding. Unfortunately, Micah shared the sentiment and he was the one to ask, "Why there?"

"It's a camp location Hosea secured before he passed," Dutch explained. "We'll reconvene with the others and get ourselves back on track."

Uncle lifted his whiskey in acceptance, as if he was sober enough to comprehend what the hell was going on.

Williams jumped in with his ass-kissing. "Good idea, Dutch."

But Micah had things that needed to be done if he was going to get out of this alive, with money in hand. And building a new camp, waiting for the others to return, and getting caught by Milton again wasn't any of them.

"Bill, get the horses ready. Micah, keep an eye on the road to make sure it's still clear for us to get out of here. Uncle, fetch some of that brandy and anything else that could be a resource from that cellar."

While the other two went off to do Dutch's bidding, Micah approached their leader, taking on an innocuous expression so as not to come off irritating.

"Dutch, I know you want to get back with the others, but it ain't a guarantee they all made it out as easily as us. I hate to be the one to say it, boss, but we got to move on. With or without them."