The next few moments, it was like time had slowed. The knife, left Arthurs hand, and went spinning through the air.
Micah stared at the Pinkerton agent in the doorway, the barrel of his revolver placed against Casie's temple, and her arm twisted behind her back.
Casie stood there, grimacing in pain, from her arm being held in an unnatural position.
Dutch, his hands gripping the cell bars, had his eyes glued to Casie, a look of horror on his face. Knowing he could do absolutely nothing to intervene. The lack of control tormenting him.
As the knife hit the agents back, and penetrated the material and flesh, on the agents back, a gunshot rang out.
The Pinkerton agent toppled forward onto Casie. A pool of blood started to form on the floor.
Dutch fell to his knees, "No, no...Casie," he cried, pressing his forehead to the bars.
Arthur held his head in his hands, "oh god, what have I done," he groaned.
Micah stared past the Pinkerton agent. To anyone, seeing the scene unfold, it appeared he was staring at Arthur, but he wasn't. Micah stared at the figure in the doorway. The person, that neither Dutch, or Arthur had seen.
Josiah Trelawny stood in the doorway, holding a smoking gun.
Casie's muffled voice, from under the dead Pinkerton agent spoke, "Will someone please get this bastard off me, I think, he broke my arm!"
Arthur dropped his hands from his face, and rushed forward. He grabbed the agent, and lifted him off of Casie. It was then he noticed the bullet hole, in the back of the agents skull.
Arthur snapped his head round, to see Josiah, still standing there with a gun in his hand.
Dutch, now also, looked towards the door, as he stood up, still gripping the bars of the cell.
"Will someone get me out of here," he yelled, angrily.
While Arthur, searched the pockets of the Agent for the cell keys, Micah helped Casie to stand.
Micah looked over at Josiah. "Well, ain't you full of surprises, didn't know you had a gun, let alone shoot like that!" he exclaimed, quite impressed with Josiah's marksmanship.
"Just because I don't go around shooting everyone I see, doesn't mean I dont know how to handle a gun." he replied, dryly.
Arthur found the key's, and quickly unlocked Dutch's cell.
Dutch, rushed to Casie's side. "Are you OK?" he asked, as he grabbed hold of her shoulders.
Casie winced, "I'm alive, but not sure my arm is much use!"
Charles approached the backdoor, "We need to get out of here, that gunshot was heard by the local law, and they're heading in this direction. I have the horses ready."
"Can you ride. Casie?" Dutch asked.
"Looks like I dont have a lot of choice," she replied.
"Charles, you take Casie, on your horse. Arthur, I'll ride with you." Dutch said, he turned to Josiah.
"Thank you, Josiah. I really had no idea, that you could shoot like that."
Josiah smiled, "There are many things, you may not know about me." he quipped.
"What about him," Casie said, nodding towards, Colm
"We need to go, otherwise breaking you two out, will be for nothing." Charles muttered.
Dutch nodded in agreement. "Let the local law deal with him, the transport is arriving tomorrow, we may yet see him hang."
They all left the jail house. Charles, helping Casie, onto his horse. "I'll check your arm, when we get clear of Valentine," he said, gently.
Dutch climbed up, behind Arthur, "we need to go back to Calibans Seat, our horses should still be there, and Charles, can take a look at Casie's arm."
The riders, galloped out of Valentine, putting as much distance between them and the small town as possible. By the time the Sheriff, and his deputies had realised what had gone on, in the jailhouse, the gang were long gone. The Sheriff, sniggered to himself. If the Pinkertons hadn't been so far up their own arse, and had enlisted their help, then they would probably still be alive, and the Van Der Linde gang members would still be in custody. He would be sure, to write that in his report. In the meantime, he still had Colm O'Driscoll, to hand over to the transport in the morning.
It was only a short ride, to Calibans Seat. There was no one on the road, at that time of night, but the moon was bright, so they were able to cover good ground. Once they reached the sandstone cliffs, Dutch jumped off the back of Arthurs horse, and went to retrieve The Count, and Ice, from where they had hitched them.
Thankfully, due to the brightness of the moon, and the relatively clear sky, Charles was able to examine, Casie's arm.
Casie groaned, as Charles, checked her arm. "Well the good news, is its not broken," he concluded, but he wasn't smiling. Not that he smiled much anyway, Casie thought, but his expression, looked as though he was about to give her some bad news anyway.
"And the bad news, Charles?" she asked, grimacing.
"You've dislocated, the shoulder, and elbow, I can put it back, but its gonna hurt like hell," he added, looking more serious.
Casie sighed, "doesn't it always!"
Charles reached into his satchel, and pulled out a bottle of whisky. He handed it to Casie.
"Drink it all," he commanded, "It'll be easier if your relaxed."
Casie took a few gulps of the whiskey, her head started to spin, she took a few more gulps, and then finished the bottle. Everything seemed a bit blurry, and the bottle dropped out of her hand.
"Washt now?" Casie blurted, bleary eyed.
Micah laughed, "never seen you drunk before!"
Charles glared at Micah, "we need to get this done."
Micah nodded, and held Casie's upper arm. Charles, sharply pulled the lower arm, which made a resounding pop, as the elbow joint popped back in.
Casie, squealed, opened her mouth to complain, but closed it again, and blinked, trying to remember what she was going to say.
Micah, grinned, despite, the seriousness of the situation, he found it more than a little amusing, to see Casie quite so drunk.
Micah, held Casie's shoulder, as Charles, once again, pulled sharply. This time on her upper arm.
This time, Casie screamed, as the shoulder, popped back into the socket.
"I hate you" Casie started to cry.
"I know ya do." Micah smiled, as Casie rested her head on his chest.
Charles, strapped her arm, to her chest, so that it wouldn't move.
" I think we're done, but she's too drunk to ride a horse on her own."
Dutch returned, with the horses, to find Casie, nestled on Micah's lap, with her head resting on his chest, fast asleep. The empty whiskey bottle at her feet.
Dutch glared at Micah.
"Don't blame me," he whispered, hoping not to wake the sleeping Casie, "Charles needed her to be relaxed, so that he could deal with her arm, it was his idea." he said, defensively.
Dutch rolled his eyes, but his expression softened, somewhat. "She can't ride like that!"
Micah smiled, "don't worry, she can ride up front, on Baylock. It won't be the first time, I've carried her home, after a run in with Pinkertons or the law."
Dutch nodded, remembering how Micah, had brought her home from the Valentine jail house the first time, and after the incident with Sean and John.
Dutch mounted the Count, "C'mon, lets go home. We need to make plans, for leaving this god forsaken country!"
The rest of the gang, followed suit. With Casie, asleep, in Micah's arms, on the front of Baylock. Arthur lead Ice, from his own horse, as they headed back to Shady Belle.
By the time they reached Shady Belle, the sun was beginning to rise. Red shafts of light, glinting through the leaves, of the trees, that lined the track, to the entrance of the old house.
Casie stirred, opened her eyes, groaned and closed them again. She buried her head, back into Micah's chest.
Micah, sniggered. "Whiskey hangovers are the worst." he whispered, in Casie's ear.
Casie muttered something, Micah couldn't quite make out what she said, but it included the words head, and die.
Micah, slid off Baylock, and carried Casie, into the house.
Closely followed by Dutch, Arthur, Charles and Josiah.
Hosea was standing just inside the front door.
"What happened, this time. That child is always getting injured, and its always you that seems to be involved!" Hosea grumbled, glaring at Micah.
"No, Hosea," Micah growled, "I'm the one who saves her bloody life!"
Hosea, looked at the men trooping into the house. "Well you all look like death, I suggest you all get some sleep, and then you can tell me exactly what happened." He scowled, and walked out of the house.
Arthur grinned, "looks like were in trouble again."
Dutch smiled. "Ain't that the truth, get some rest boys, and thank you."