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We’d been camped out at this new place for about two weeks now. A few of the gang members had already picked up small-time jobs here and there to make some money. Following Dutch’s advice, everyone was expected to donate a cut of whatever they earned to the camp fund. Not everyone liked this idea, though. They felt a bit bitter about it but no one dared speak up. Dutch was the leader, after all. The only reason we were still alive and surviving was because of him.

Dutch mostly gave work to the men in the gang. As for the women, he was aware of what was going on but didn’t interfere directly. He’d put Miss Grimshaw in charge of handling anything related to the ladies, and she didn’t take nonsense from anyone.

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Today, the weather was actually kind of nice. The sky was covered with clouds, but now and then, sunlight would peek through. It was like the sun and clouds were playing hide and seek. I was just minding my business when Dutch called me over. He said Reverend Swanson had gone missing and he hadn’t been seen since last night. Uncle was the last one to spot him near the Flatneck train station.

I groaned, “Why don’t you send Uncle to go look for him? That old guy doesn’t do anything but drink all day anyway.”

“Exactly why I’m sending you,” Dutch replied. “Otherwise, you’ll end up looking for both of them later.”

I didn’t want to go, but I got up anyway and headed toward my horse.

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Now, Reverend Swanson, he used to be a preacher before his life went off the rails. Got hooked on drugs and booze, lost his faith, his job, even his family. These days, he acted like your typical drunk mess. Still, he once saved Dutch’s life, which is probably the only reason we kept him around. He was a real oddball, and I had no idea what he was even doing at the train station.

Flatneck wasn’t too far from camp, so I made it there pretty quick. Walked into the station building and, sure enough, there he was. Half-conscious, slumped at a poker table with two strangers. He looked up at me, eyes wild, and said something about how he’d finally taken my advice. Claimed he was free now, whatever that meant, I don’t know.

Therefore, I didn’t buy it for a second. Told him straight up it looked more like his God had abandoned him than the other way around. He got up, all wobbly, grabbed my shoulders like he was about to give a sermon, and started rambling about how he’d escaped “Morpheus’ embrace.” No clue what that meant. To me, he just looked wasted. I told him that too.

One of the other players told him to sit back down and keep playing. Swanson could barely stand. I told them he was done, but the guy got a little defensive. I let him know I wasn’t looking for trouble but if he was, I’d gladly oblige. Swanson, still trying to keep the peace, called everyone “children of God”… then passed out cold.

They asked if I wanted to take his spot in the game. I wasn’t interested. Told them I had better things to do and needed to get him out of there.

That’s when I noticed that he’d wandered off.

---

I started searching the area, calling his name. Someone behind the building said they saw him stumbling west, so I followed that lead. Not long after, I heard him yelling for help.

Found him in the middle of a scuffle with some stranger. I stepped in and told the guy to back off. He didn’t listen, so I made him listen. By the time I was done, the guy was on the ground. He was not moving much but still alive (or that’s what I thought).

Someone nearby saw the whole thing and ran off yelling about the law. I chased him down, warned him to keep his mouth shut, and let him go once he swore he wouldn’t say a word.

When I looked around again, Swanson had somehow made it onto the railroad bridge and he was walking dead-center on the tracks like a madman. I climbed up to get him, and of course, he’d gotten his foot stuck.

A train was coming fast. I managed to yank him free just in time, and we rolled off the tracks right before it thundered past. He tried to thank me afterward, but I shoved him down.

I was fuming. He looked at me like I was the crazy one. Then he just broke down, started apologizing, saying he wished he was different.

I threw him on my horse and headed back to camp. He mumbled nonsense the entire way. Some random names, food cravings, something about tea and Margaret. I told him to shut it, but he just kept rambling.

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Back at Horseshoe Overlook, everyone noticed him right away. Some cracked jokes, others looked annoyed. I ignored it all, dumped him on his bed, and told him he’d better sleep his way to salvation this time.

Susan came over and asked what happened. I just shrugged and said it was the usual mess. She said she’d take care of him. I nodded, told her he got lucky this time, and walked off.

(To be continued...)

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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.}

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