RDR: NO REGRETS - Chapter 297: No Turning Back (Patreon)

Even with Arthur’s unmatched marksmanship, the ever-growing number of enemies was beginning to overwhelm him.

Sure, he could drop a man with every shot, but when the other side kept pouring bullets into his position, he barely had a chance to raise his head, let alone fire back.

“Arthur, we’ve got to think of something!”

Kieran clutched his rifle and curled himself up behind a battered wagon, shouting anxiously toward Arthur nearby.

The enemy knew these men were good shots, so they had clearly decided not to give them any chance to show themselves.

Bullets rained against their cover, tearing it apart and sending splinters flying everywhere.

Arthur might have been an excellent shot, perfectly capable of killing an enemy with every bullet, but there was one problem.

He was still only human.

This wasn’t some game where you could swallow medicine or eat some food whenever your health got low.

In the real world, even being grazed by a bullet could leave someone wounded.

There was nothing Arthur could do except wait for the enemy to reload, then seize the brief opening to fire back.

One kill was better than none.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Hearing Kieran shout, Arthur snapped irritably, “If I had a way out of this, don’t you think I’d have killed every last one of these bastards already?”

“Damn it! Who the hell are these people? Where did they all come from?!”

Even Arthur was starting to lose his patience.

He had come here for a ceremony, thinking he might finally get to settle into retirement.

Instead, everything had gone completely to hell.

“They’re all trying to kill us anyway. Does it really matter who they are?”

Pearson trembled behind his cover. “I recognized a few of them. They’re from the Braithwaite family!”

Arthur fired the last two rounds from his pistol, then tossed it to Pearson and drew another from his other holster.

“You recognized them? From where?”

“A little while ago, here in town.”

Pearson’s hands shook as he reloaded Arthur’s pistol. “I was eating at the saloon when these men came over and offered to buy me a drink...”

“Damn it! I don’t have time for one of your stories!”

Arthur snatched the freshly loaded pistol back from Pearson, raised it, and dropped another man.

“Where’s Trelawny?”

“Where the hell did he go?”

Only then did Arthur realize that Trelawny, that old con artist, had disappeared.

He had definitely been there when they first started drinking.

So when had he vanished?

“...?”

“Was he even with us?”

Pearson looked completely baffled. “I haven’t seen him since the shooting started!”

Well, Arthur didn’t need much imagination to figure out what had happened.

The old con artist had probably sensed trouble and slipped away on his own.

Arthur wasn’t particularly worried about him, though.

Trelawny always seemed to have some strange trick for getting himself out of trouble.

“Come on! Follow me!”

Seeing more men moving in to surround them from the alley ahead, Arthur grabbed Pearson and sprinted into a nearby building.

Kieran hurried after them, and the three barely managed to duck into a general store.

Arthur dragged a table over and shoved it against the door. Then he grabbed a can of corn from a nearby shelf, pried it open with his dagger, and started eating straight from the can.

He had spent all his time drinking at the saloon earlier and hadn’t eaten a bite.

After fighting for so long, his stomach was completely empty.

“Listen up in there! You’re surrounded!”

Once the three of them were inside the store, the men outside began shouting.

“Surrender! You’re not getting out of there!”

Arthur stayed low and cautiously leaned toward the window, trying to get a look outside.

The moment half his head appeared, a bullet slammed into the windowsill in front of him with a loud crack.

Arthur immediately ducked back down.

“Arthur! Here!”

Arthur turned around and froze.

Pearson and Kieran each had a large iron pot sitting on top of their heads, and Pearson was holding out a third one for him.

“Damn it! You seriously expect me to put an iron pot on my head?”

Arthur stared at the two of them in disbelief.

What the hell were they thinking?

“Don’t underestimate it!”

Pearson grinned. “I learned this in the army. These things can stop bullets. Seriously!”

“Oh, shit. Forget it. There’s no way in hell I’m putting that thing on my head!”

Arthur firmly rejected the idea.

He was a sharpshooter, a proud cowboy.

What kind of man ran around with a cooking pot on his head?

Besides, nobody knew better than Arthur how powerful firearms were.

That thing might stop a pistol round at best. A rifle bullet would punch straight through it.

And even if a bullet normally wouldn’t kill you outright, wearing that thing might make things worse.

Once the bullet shattered the metal, the fragments could finish the job even faster.

Arthur topped off his pistols, then looked at his nearly empty ammunition pouch and shook his head helplessly.

He needed to find more ammunition somehow...

“In a moment, I’ll charge out the front. You two go out the back!”

Arthur looked back at Pearson and Kieran and said in a low, steady voice, “The shooting outside is dying down. The others have probably made it out by now.”

Only then did Kieran realize how quiet things had become.

Apart from the square to the north, where bursts of gunfire were still echoing constantly, the fighting in every other direction had almost stopped.

That left only two possibilities.

Either everyone else had escaped, or they had been captured.

Arthur preferred to believe the first.

Still, deep down, he had already prepared himself for the worst.

Whatever had happened to the others, Dutch and his group had undoubtedly taken the brunt of the attack.

Anyone could figure that much out.

Those people had clearly come for Dutch.

“The dock isn’t far from here. Once you get out, run for it!”

“What about you?” Kieran asked quickly, seeing the serious look on Arthur’s face.

“I’ll cover you.”

“No. You... how are you supposed to get away by yourself?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find a way.”

Arthur turned and gave them a smile, then raised his pistol.

“Get ready!”

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Just as Arthur was about to charge out, a burst of rapid gunfire suddenly erupted outside.

The three immediately ducked down.

After a moment, they realized the bullets weren’t being fired at them.

Arthur cautiously looked up.

At the far end of the street stood a man with a pistol in each hand, firing into the detectives.

“Haha! I knew that bastard wouldn’t go down that easily!”

The moment Arthur recognized him, he burst out laughing, kicked open the door, and charged outside.

The newcomer was John, who had been escorting Hosea and the others to safety!

He had been waiting nearby for quite some time.

John had wanted to help Arthur much earlier, but Hosea kept holding him back.

According to Hosea, the timing wasn’t right.

Only when Arthur and the others were finally trapped inside the store did Hosea tell him the opportunity had come.

John had already been itching to act.

The moment Hosea gave the word, he drew his weapons and rushed out.

The men outside had been completely focused on Arthur and the others inside the building.

None of them expected an enemy to suddenly appear behind them.

John’s surprise attack tore straight through them.

His marksmanship wasn’t much worse than Arthur’s to begin with. Combined with the element of surprise, it was practically target practice.

One gunman after another took bullets in the back and collapsed, their screams filling the street.

John fired with astonishing speed, every shot fast, accurate, and ruthless.

By the time all twelve rounds in his two pistols were gone, twelve men were almost neatly sprawled across the ground.

It had all happened in only two or three seconds.

By the time the survivors reacted, their companions were already lying everywhere.

John didn’t bother reloading.

He simply released both pistols and let them fall to the ground. With a quick shrug of his shoulder, the lever-action rifle on his back dropped neatly into his hands.

Fire. Work the lever. Chamber the next round.

Each motion flowed seamlessly into the next.

John stood his ground and poured deadly fire into the remaining gunmen.

At that moment, Arthur and Kieran charged out as well.

Arthur needed no introduction.

Now that he finally had room to fight, his terrifying skill showed itself immediately.

The two pistols in his hands were like Death’s scythes, cutting down gunmen one after another.

He had spent all this time pinned down under a storm of bullets.

Now that he finally had an opening, there was no way he was letting it go.

Kieran rushed out behind him.

His aim was still inconsistent, but at this distance even he could land his shots.

The stablehand who used to tremble whenever someone frightened him had finally become a capable fighter.

One gunman raised his rifle toward John, only for a bullet from the side to strike him in the head.

In the nearby alley, Hosea quickly worked the bolt of his rifle and chambered another round.

He was an old outlaw who had spent decades roaming the West.

When people said Hosea wasn’t much of a fighter, they were comparing him to the gang’s collection of vicious gunmen.

That didn’t mean he was helpless.

Caught between John and Arthur, the gunmen quickly collapsed.

The force of more than thirty men was reduced to only five or six survivors in barely thirty seconds.

Seeing that the fight was lost, the remaining men threw down their weapons and fled into the surrounding alleys.

It was actually the smartest thing they could have done.

Arthur and the others had no time to chase them.

Still furious, Kieran fired twice at their retreating backs.

Unfortunately, he only managed to hit one of them.

A breeze swept down the street, slowly dispersing the lingering gun smoke.

John picked up his pistols and walked over to Arthur.

“How are you holding up?” John asked with a stern expression, looking at Arthur’s battered appearance.

“Kid, you saved my life this time.”

Arthur looked at John and chuckled.

His unreliable little brother had finally come through when it mattered.

“Don’t often see you looking this rough.”

Hosea emerged from the nearby alley with his rifle in hand and smiled at Arthur. “Maybe I should’ve taken a picture.”

“Too bad you missed your chance.”

Seeing Hosea alive and well, Arthur finally let out a breath of relief.

Abigail and Mary-Beth followed Hosea out, with Abigail still holding little Jack.

“Everyone grab two weapons. We might run into more enemies before this is over!”

Hosea picked up a rifle beside one of the bodies. “The dock isn’t far. We need to stay alert.”

“What about everyone else?” Arthur asked grimly when he saw how few of them there were.

“...”

John said nothing.

But Arthur understood everything from his silence.

Even Hosea’s movements slowed.

He let out a deep sigh.

“Dutch... Dutch said he’d stay behind and cover us.”

Hosea looked at Arthur’s grim expression and continued slowly, “Javier and Bill stayed with him. We don’t know where Lenny and Sean went. They may have been captured.”

That was everything Hosea knew.

“Karen’s missing too.”

Mary-Beth spoke sadly. “She disappeared while we were on our way here.”

Their losses were terrible.

At least from what they knew now, this had been a disaster.

How had everything fallen apart like this?

Everyone fell silent.

No one knew what to say.

Arthur felt a heavy frustration settle over him.

Everything had happened far too quickly.

He shook his head, bent down, picked up two rifles from the dead men, slung them over his back, and gathered some ammunition.

“John, Hosea. Take everyone else and go.”

Arthur looked at John seriously. “Stephen is waiting for you at the dock. Once you get there, leave immediately. Don’t wait for me.”

John froze, not quite understanding what Arthur meant.

“What did you say?”

“I said take them and go!”

Arthur checked his weapons as he spoke in a steady voice. “I’m going back for Dutch and the others.”

Now John understood.

“Damn it, have you lost your mind?”

“Do you know how many men are over there? At least two hundred gunmen!”

John grabbed Arthur by the collar, furious. “I risked my life getting you out of there. Not so you could turn around and get yourself killed!”

“Arthur, think this through! There’s nothing you can do by yourself!”

Hosea hurriedly stepped in. “Dutch and the others have probably already broken through...”

“BOOM!”

Before Hosea could finish, a deafening explosion came from the square to the north.

Everyone turned.

A thick column of black smoke was rising into the sky.

“Dutch and the others are in trouble. I have to help them!”

Arthur looked at John again and slapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Kid, keep them safe.”

“Remember, once you get on that ship, take everyone else and leave. I’ll handle Dutch.”

“I... What about you?” John asked urgently.

“I’ll take them south.”

Arthur thought for a moment.

He remembered the isolated farm belonging to a man named Catfish Jackson, a place they had passed on the way back after wiping out the Church of the Holy Lord.

It was far out in the countryside.

Reaching it meant crossing through the forest, so by the time they got there, they should have shaken off any pursuit.

“Stephen knows the place. Once you get there, wait for us by the shore. I’ll bring them to you!”

Without waiting for anyone to answer, Arthur turned and ran.

“Damn it! He’s always like this!”

Watching Arthur disappear into the distance, even the normally reserved John couldn’t stop himself from cursing.

Hosea wanted to stop him.

But he knew that once Arthur had made up his mind, no one could change it.

“Damn... Come on. Let’s go.”

Hosea sighed, patted John on the shoulder, then turned toward the dock.

There was nothing else any of them could do.

With John leading the way, the group hurried toward the dock with grim determination.

But just as they reached the area nearby, another burst of gunfire erupted from the waterfront.

John immediately told Hosea and the others to hide in the nearby woods, then went ahead alone.

Kieran hesitated for a moment, gritted his teeth, and followed him.

“Damn it. They’re under attack.”

Through the dense trees along the lakeshore, John could clearly see more than fifty Pinkertons attacking the dock.

Wave after wave of bullets hammered into the ship moored there.

Charles and the others could barely return fire from behind the protection of the hull.

Fortunately, the ship was a proper ironclad.

Ordinary bullets couldn’t penetrate its solid metal hull.

Otherwise, Charles and the others would probably already be feeding the fish.

Even so, John could tell they wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

One detective was already wading into the water.

The Pinkertons were clearly using their overwhelming firepower to cover men trying to board the ship.

Charles and the others had noticed it too.

The ship was slowly pulling away from shore. At this rate, they would soon be able to escape.

“What do we do?”

Kieran swallowed hard and asked quietly.

If that ship left without them, they were finished.

“Shoot.”

John’s answer was as simple and direct as ever.

Opening fire was the only way to let Charles, Stephen, and the others know they were here, while also taking some pressure off them.

The moment he finished speaking, John stood up, raised both pistols, and opened fire on the detectives attacking the ship.

His attack immediately drew most of their attention.

“It’s John! We need to get them aboard!”

Charles spotted John almost immediately and shouted toward Sadie at the helm, “Can you get us back to shore?”

Sadie looked toward the dock and gritted her teeth.

“Tell everyone to hold on!”

She wrenched the wheel hard, swung the bow around, and sent the ship charging straight toward the dock.

Stephen had already rammed this dock once before.

It had been hastily repaired, but its condition was still questionable.

Now a large number of Pinkertons were standing on the dock, while others were waist-deep in the water.

When they saw the ironclad bearing straight down on them, there was nothing they could do except scatter in panic.

The ironclad smashed into the crudely repaired wooden dock and tore it apart.

Dozens of Pinkertons lost their footing and tumbled into the water, struggling desperately to stay afloat.

Everyone on deck immediately raised their weapons and opened fire on the men in the water.

Before long, the surface of the lake was stained red.

The entire Pinkerton force descended into chaos.

The men in the water tried to climb out while those on shore rushed to help them, leaving the whole formation in complete disorder.

Sadie hauled the wheel over again and forced the ironclad’s sturdy hull against the remains of the dock, almost pushing it onto the shore.

“Get off the ship! Everyone off! Cover them!”

Charles shouted as he lowered the gangplank.

Everyone except Sadie, who was still steering, crowded toward the bow and poured fire into the Pinkertons on shore.

“Get aboard!”

Seeing their chance, John shouted back toward Hosea and the others hiding behind him.

Hosea and the rest immediately ran for the ship.

Charles stood at the gangplank, grabbing them one by one and hauling them aboard as quickly as he could.

The moment Abigail reached safety, she hugged her son and burst into tears.

The journey here had been terrifying beyond words.

Mary-Beth saw Stephen lying on the deck, covered in blood yet still firing his gun toward the shore, and her eyes immediately reddened.

“Where are the others?”

Stephen crouched on the deck and looked anxiously at the small group that had arrived. “Arthur? What about Sean and the others?”

“What about Dutch and Javier? They didn’t make it out?”

Before Hosea could answer, Charles pointed ahead.

“There’s no time! We have to leave now!”

Everyone turned.

Another large force of Pinkertons was rushing toward them.

“Damn it!”

Stephen knew that if they waited any longer, none of them would escape.

“Go!”

At Hosea’s shout, Sadie pushed the ironclad to full power.

With a teeth-grinding screech of metal and wood, the ship crushed its way over the ruined dock and finally headed out across the vast waters of Flat Iron Lake.

The Pinkertons on shore could only watch helplessly as the ship drew farther and farther away.

The other boats at the dock had already been destroyed by Stephen and the others.

For the moment, at least, they were safe.