Chapter 34 - Chapter 34: Valentine Style

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Chapter 34: Valentine Style

Time ticked by; after what felt like ages, Arthur finally stepped out of the hotel.

He wore a smile and said easily to the gathering crowd:

Don't worry, I sorted the fellow inside—he won't be waking up any time soon.

Just then Johnny came hurrying back, lugging the heavy weapons crate and panting hard.

Sweat poured off him, yet his eyes shone with unmistakable excitement and satisfaction.

No one was surprised at the crate—Johnny never wasted anything. It probably held those busted Odriscoll guns... 'Weren't you in Blackwater Town a few weeks back?' a stranger on horseback called to Arthur.

Me? No, mister, I'm not from those parts.

Oh, I know I saw you—riding with a bunch of men.

Not me. Come on over and chew the fat, friend,' Arthur said, strolling closer.

Sensing trouble, the man spurred his horse and galloped off without a word.

Arthur glanced round, looking for something to give chase with.

Johnny caught the look, jerked his chin toward his splendid turkoman horse.

Soon Arthur ran the fugitive to the cliff edge, his horsemanship and dogged chase paying off.

They stared at each other, the air so tight you could almost hear hearts hammer.

After a cordial chat the man admitted he'd been mistaken.

By way of apology—and thanks for being spared—he produced a fine fountain-pen and pressed it into Arthur's hand.

Meanwhile, deep in thought about their next move, Johnny heard a voice that made his skin crawl:

Charity bestows life's eternal, precious gifts!','I do my utmost to help—have you done yours?','Use your strength to aid the weak!'

Johnny didn't need to turn round; he knew that tone at once.

A wild idea flashed through his mind—kill the man who'd murdered Arthur.

But no, that would be too easy. There had to be a sweeter reckoning... A cloud of dust rose; hoof-beats drummed closer.

It was Arthur, swinging down with a confident grin. 'All sorted, folks!'

He handed the reins to Johnny. 'Fine animal.'

Everyone exhaled. Arthur suggested, 'Right, back to camp.' Heads nodded.

Johnny lingered. At the desk he scrawled a note for Mr. and Mrs. Adler:

They could pick out seed and young stock; the farm deal was certain and the bank contract would be ready soon.

It was a white lie—soon truth. The Downes farm was already in his pocket.

With the Ladies' return the mood lifted at once.

They fluttered together like excited birds, chattering about how this town differed from the West.

They traded discoveries: the curious buildings, odd customs, the open-handed folk.

One even bragged how she'd 'persuaded' donations to plump her purse.

Fresh gossip each had gleaned was swapped with glee.

Arthur, watching the chatter, noticed Johnny sitting his horse in silence.

He clapped the younger man's shoulder. 'Hey, Cowboy—thought of a name for that stallion yet?'

'Micah,' Johnny shot back. The group fell silent.

...Micah?

The very one.

Johnny wasn't worried; they were in Valentine now, and Micah's clock was ticking.

A quick jump on the Gang's timetable and he could ride to Strawberry and end the bastard.

But no—too quick a death.

He'd bag a Skinners Gang man first, to scratch the itch the game never let him satisfy.

Trouble was, the Skinners rarely showed this far east; with Odriscoll and Van der Linde Gang scouring the mountains they'd gone to ground.

Crossing a rail bridge Johnny glanced down—and inspiration struck like a floodgate bursting.

'Of course—how'd I forget him!'

Valentine's own serial killer: Little Edmond Lowry, the creepiest easter egg in the game.

A gentleman who loved to butcher passers-by, he'd dug a cellar in the woods near town for his sport.

He even posted letters to editors praising himself as clever, influential, cunning.

Johnny grinned and punched his palm. 'I have a good plan... a very good plan.'

Up ahead Uncle led the girls in a bawdy song while Arthur, still mulling 'Micah', watched the newest Gang member warily.

Arthur shook his head. 'Johnny's thinking... somebody's in for a bad day.'