Chapter 83: The Handgun
Deep within the Grizzlies Mountains.
This place is perpetually blanketed in snow. Though the sky today appears clear and bright, the biting cold remains relentless.
Arthur had thought he would never return to this place.
As he gazed at the place where members of the gang once hung, the remnants of a campfire left behind, and the scattered belongings from their hasty departure, memories flooded back. It felt like just yesterday that Arthur and Dutch were fleeing through the snowstorm, seeking refuge here.
After a brief rest, the group set out again, leaving Colter behind. They continued their search westward for their target—Flaco Hernández.
This time, Arthur was accompanied by Charlie and, much to his chagrin, Sean.
Listening to Sean's incessant chatter, Arthur couldn't help but marvel at how he and Charlie were polar opposites.
As for why Sean was tagging along—well, Arthur had firmly refused before they set out, but what good did that do? Sean had insisted on following, and there was no stopping him.
Could they leave Sean behind? Not really. The man had legs of his own, and if they didn't bring him, he'd just trail after them anyway. So, reluctantly, Arthur had no choice but to bring him along.
The journey had been anything but quiet until now. They were still heading west, searching for any sign of Flaco. Arthur wasn't in the mood to talk, Charlie rarely spoke, and Sean, with no one to engage him, had finally run out of things to say. Thank goodness for small mercies.
Dressed in thick layers, their movements were cumbersome.
Having already rested in Colter, they had no plans to stop again during their westward search.
According to the map, there weren't many suitable camping spots west of Colter. Their current destination was near a frozen lake.
"Up ahead, that frozen lake—do you think there's a camp on the other side?" Sean pointed forward and asked.
It did look like there might be a camp, though the details were obscured. The wind whipped fine snow across the icy surface, creating a veil of white that blurred their vision.
With daylight still lingering, they couldn't rely on the glow of a campfire to confirm their suspicions. They'd have to investigate in person.
Before venturing onto the frozen lake, they left their horses behind to avoid any accidents caused by slipping on the ice. After feeding the horses, the three men cautiously stepped onto the icy surface, moving slowly toward the other side.
Charlie carried a peculiar-looking long rifle with a scope slung across his back, silently following Arthur. Sean, on the other hand, began sliding across the ice, clearly enjoying himself.
"Cut it out, Sean. There are people in that camp up ahead," Arthur warned, his voice low. Arthur could now make out figures moving about in the camp.
Upon hearing Arthur's words, Charlie immediately signaled to him, then veered off to the right, heading toward a slightly elevated snowbank.
Sean finally stopped fooling around. He'd seen Charlie's gesture but had no idea what it meant. Turning to Arthur, he asked: "What's that signal mean?"
"Charlie is finding a good spot to set up his rifle," Arthur explained, while motioning for Sean to put away the gun he'd just drawn.
Sean obediently holstered his weapon and continued walking with Arthur.
"You're being an idiot. If we walk across this ice, they're bound to see us. And with no cover, pulling out a gun is just asking for trouble. What's your plan? Stand on the ice and get shot?" Arthur said, his tone dripping with disdain.
Sean's face clearly showed his confusion— 'Aren't we here to cause trouble?'—but Arthur didn't bother explaining further.
Sure enough, before they could fully cross the ice, the men in the camp spotted them.
"What are you doing here?!" a middle-aged man in a black-and-yellow striped Spanish-style tunic shouted, stepping forward to block Arthur and Sean.
Soon, four more armed men joined him, surrounding the duo.
Arthur, slowly trying to move off the ice, replied in a calm, non-threatening tone.
"Hey, I mean no harm, alright? I just want to talk to Flaco Hernández."
The man with the gun eyed Arthur and Sean suspiciously, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"Oh, really? We don't exactly bring guests back here…"
Then, turning to his companions, he barked.
"Kill them!"
'Bang!'
A distant gunshot rang out, and the man's head exploded in a spray of blood.
"Gonzalo!"
Arthur, suddenly feeling playful, pointed at another enemy with his finger, mimicking a gun.
'Bang!'
The enemy crumpled to the ground.
In the distance, Charlie had already reloaded, his eye fixed on the scope, waiting for Arthur's next "target."
Meanwhile, the remaining enemies hadn't yet realized that the real threat wasn't coming from the front but from the side. They also hadn't figured out that the man pretending to shoot them with his finger wasn't some supernatural force. Panicked, they scrambled for cover, unwittingly exposing their flanks to Charlie's precise aim.
From behind their makeshift barricades, Flaco's men could only watch as Arthur "fired" his finger-gun, and with each "shot," another of their comrades fell.
They were terrified.
In the depths of the snowy mountains, gunshots echoed unpredictably, and their fear clouded their judgment. They began to wonder if this man before them was the true "Nightmare."
As their numbers dwindled, the fear only grew. But Arthur's hand didn't stop.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Arthur was having the time of his life. It had been a while since he'd had this much fun. Sean, meanwhile, stood dumbfounded beside him, never having imagined that things could be done this way.
When Arthur finally lowered his "gun," and no more shots rang out, he knew Charlie had taken care of the rest.
'Ah!'
It was then that Arthur remembered—he was here for Flaco. Had he accidentally killed him in the chaos?
Arthur quickly pulled out the bounty poster, and he and Sean began comparing it to the bodies on the ground. Thankfully, Flaco wasn't among them.
Just then, a tightly shut shed nearby caught Arthur's attention.
Arthur approached the door, cleared his throat, and called out loudly.
"Mr. Hernández? I'm here on behalf of the Valentine Casino to collect a few debts. Are you home?"
Sean couldn't help but chuckle. Arthur was really laying it on thick.
After a moment, a man's voice shouted from inside.
"Hey! Someone answer me! Gonzalo? What's going on out there?"
Arthur grinned and finally drew his newly purchased Mauser pistol, which he hadn't had a chance to use yet.
"Mr. Hernández, don't bother calling for Gonzalo. If he's the one in the black-and-yellow tunic, he's… indisposed at the moment."
"…"
"Put down your weapon, and I'll come out!" Flaco shouted, finally realizing the gravity of the situation.
"No need, Mr. Hernández. Stay right where you are. I just have a few questions. After that, I'll set your place on fire to keep you warm."
Arthur didn't care whether Flaco came out or not. As long as he was inside, that was enough.
Arthur then asked the question he'd been pondering the entire journey:
"First question."
"Who the hell gave you the guts to rob my casino?"
*****
Hey there guys,
If you're enjoying this wild ride, toss a power stone my way, drop a comment, or leave a review (bonus points if it's nice, but I'll take the roast too).
Also you're missing out on a lot of advanced chapters (More than 30). Head to my Patreon page to catch up on what's going on with Arthur.
Patreon.com/Wild_Bunch