We saw a shadowy figure approaching us. I instinctively slowed my horse, and my right hand drifted towards my holster. Just as I was about to draw my revolver, I heard Dutch’s voice.
“Micah.”
I quickly pulled my hand back. The man approaching wasn’t a stranger—it was Micah, one of our gang members. Dutch had sent him out scouting earlier.
Micah told us there was a homestead not too far from here, and he’d seen lights inside. It looked like a lively place, almost like a party was going on. We decided to check it out—maybe we could find some blankets or food supplies for the night.
“How’s Davey doing?” Micah asked as we rode through the snow.
“Ah… he didn’t make it,” Dutch replied, his voice heavy with regret. Davey’s wounds had been too deep, and he had lost too much blood.
A little further ahead, Micah signalled for us to stop and pointed towards a house in the distance, its warm lights glowing faintly through the storm.
We hitched our horses to a post a little way from the house. Dutch turned to us and said, “I’ll do the talking. You two stay back and keep cover. Only come out if I call you.”
A wagon was half-buried in the snow near the house. Micah whispered, “I’ll hide behind that.” I was still looking for a good spot when Dutch motioned towards a cattle shed.
“Arthur, take cover in there.”
Holding a lantern, Dutch stepped up to the front door and called out loudly, “Hello? Anyone home?”
The door creaked open, and two men stepped out. Their faces weren’t clear in the dim light, but something about the way they moved set off alarm bells in my head.
“Arthur… Arthur, we got a problem,” Micah’s voice came from behind me, barely above a whisper, but tense with urgency.
I motioned for him to stay quiet.
“There’s a body in the wagon,” Micah muttered.
“What?” A cold dread settled over me. I reached for my revolver.
That’s when I noticed one of the men near Dutch shifting his hand towards his holster. Before he could fire, I aimed and pulled the trigger. The man dropped instantly.
Dutch dove for cover, and just like that, the place erupted in gunfire.
It didn’t take long before we had the upper hand. One of their men turned and ran, trying to escape, but I wasn’t about to let him. I lined up my shot and took him down. By now, it was clear—we had just run into members of the O’Driscoll Boys, our rivals.
“Arthur, let’s go check the cabin,” Dutch called out, motioning towards the house.
Inside, we found a few blankets and some food supplies. On my way back outside, I spotted a barn and figured I should take a quick look. As soon as I stepped inside, I noticed a horse—but before I could get to it, a man suddenly jumped down from above, tackling me to the ground.
My revolver was knocked from my hand, skidding across the floor. We started throwing punches, grappling in the dirt and straw. Eventually, I managed to get the upper hand and pinned him down.
Dutch arrived just in time. “Arthur, see what he knows,” he ordered, hinting that we could deal with him later if needed.
After taking a few more punches, the man finally gave in. He told us the O’Driscolls had a hideout nearby and were planning a train robbery.
He pleaded for his life, swearing he wouldn’t tell his gang about us. My revolver was still on the ground. As I reached to pick it up, he made a run for his life.
I didn’t stop him.
Not because I believed him—but because I had spotted a wolf in the distance. If the cold didn’t kill him, the wolf would. Either way, he wasn’t making it far.
I took the horse from the barn and led it outside. Just as I was hitching it, I heard a loud crash from inside the house, followed by a woman’s scream.
I rushed back in.
Near the dining table, a woman was wildly throwing things—plates, furniture, anything she could grab—while Micah was trying to restrain her.
“Leave her alone, Micah!” Dutch barked. “Can’t you see? She’s not an O’Driscoll.”
During the struggle, a lamp had fallen and shattered, igniting a fire. Dutch finally managed to calm the woman down—she was terrified.
Through her tears, she told us her name.
Sadie Adler.
And then, the truth came out. The men we had just killed had murdered her husband. The body in the wagon outside…it was him.
We couldn’t leave her there. Not alone.
So, we took her with us back to Colter.
When we arrived, Dutch quickly explained what had happened. Then he turned to the others.
“Make sure Miss Adler gets something to eat.”
(To be continued…)
Disclaimer
Arthur Morgan and the world of Red Dead Redemption 2 might be fictional creations by Rockstar Games, but my love for this game? 100% real. This is a new kind of adventure I wanted to bring to Steemit. I’m narrating the story of RDR2 from the perspective of its protagonist, Arthur Morgan, offering a fresh and immersive take on his journey. Rather than directly copying the game’s dialogues, I’m weaving Arthur’s emotions and experiences into a creative and fictional retelling. You can also experience this story in a cinematic way. I play the game, record my gameplay, edit the footage in the best possible way, and upload it to my YouTube channel. This way, after reading each story episode, you can watch it unfold like a movie.
Special Mentions
@huzaifanaveed1, @event-horizon, @graceleon, @suboohi, @sur-riti
