RDR2: Faithless

38: Our Best Selves

"Let's go!" he yelled as we mounted up, leading the way to Saint Denis.

"Okay, let's pick up the pace," Dutch yelled after a while, "The train is due in Saint Denis in an hour."

"We're robbing a train in the middle of a city?" I asked, astounded. That was bold, even for Dutch.

"No, it's going to stop there," Dutch explained, "Take on mail and water. Let off some boys heading home on leave, and then it heads out."

"They know the bridge is gone, Black Lung," Micah said, and I bit my tongue, "There'll be a patrol past Annesburg, waiting down by the river to collect the money."

"We sneak on quietly and then we got a short time to stop the train before it reaches the patrol," Dutch continued, "John, you go get that dynamite. We'll meet back up outside Saint Denis."

"I'll go with him," I announced, giving Arthur a look.

"As you wish," Dutch said unhappily.

We peeled off from them, John leading the way.

"This is one big goddamn group of us to be riding back into Saint Denis," I said after a moment.

"Yeah, and I heard the Pinkertons have pretty much taken over Van Horn," he told me, "Moved a whole heap of men in there. Things are closing in fast."

"Shit..." I said, coughing harshly as we neared the wagon.

"I'll get the dynamite," John said, dismounting, and for once I didn't argue.

He grabbed it and mounted up again, giving me a hard look.

"So, listen... Abigail just told me..." he hesitated, "The money. It's hidden in the caves at Beaver Hollow?"

"What?" I barked, following him again.

"Yeah, so much for never hiding it near camp," he sighed, "Dutch was getting sloppier than we thought."

"Are Abigail and Jack ready to leave?" I asked him.

"I think so," he nodded.

"Okay... whatever happens with this job today, wherever Dutch and them go next," I told him, "We're getting you the hell outta here. We're gonna get you the money you need. Knowing the three of you got out, well... maybe this'll all still mean something. Tilly and Susan too. I'll do whatever it takes."

"You and Arthur, you've both always had my back," John said.

"Perhaps not always," I laughed slightly.

"Anyway, here we go... one last train," there was doubt in his voice.

"One last train..." I nodded.

We rode to where the others were waiting, a determination settling inside me. Dutch was smoking a cigar, quite content with himself, but he turned and started riding the moment he saw us.

"Got everything?" he called.

"Yeah," I replied, giving Arthur a sharp look. I hoped he got at least some meaning behind it.

"Then off we go," Dutch pushed the Count harder, and we rode into Saint Denis.

"Off we go indeed," I heard Arthur mutter.

"One last time, gentlemen!" Dutch called, "I've got us a riverboat. We'll head up to New York or Chicago, and get a real boat from there out to the tropics."

"So long as it isn't Guarma," Javier called.

"Oh, it'll be paradise, son," Dutch replied, determination evident in his voice.