(author note: well this is where it all started enjoy the chapter might try to push through and post a second chapter tomorrow)

  Chapter 5: Blackwater Massacre Part 1

  As the days passed, the gang settled into a quiet routine, waiting for Dutch’s plan to unfold. Sebastian kept himself busy, helping Charles and Pearson with hunting to keep the camp well-fed. With spring approaching, game was becoming more plentiful, and they managed to bring in enough deer, rabbits, and wild turkey to keep the stewpot full.

  Between hunts, Sebastian took the time to properly maintain his weapons. The worn repeater he had been using for years had served him well, but he knew the ferry job would demand something more. Using the money he had saved from selling pelts and skins, he managed to get his hands on a brand-new Litchfield lever-action rifle. The moment he held it, he knew it was a fine weapon sturdy, reliable, and packing enough power to drop a man in one shot if needed.

  Standing by the fire one evening, Sebastian worked the action of the rifle, feeling the smooth motion of the lever as he tested its weight. Charles watched from his spot nearby, nodding in approval.

  “Good rifle,” Charles remarked. “Litchfield’s got stopping power. Just gotta make sure you don’t get too comfortable with it, it’s heavier than what you’re used to.”

  Sebastian gave a small smirk, adjusting the rifle in his hands. “Ja, but I think it’ll do just fine.”

  Charles chuckled. “Well, let’s hope you don’t have to use it too soon.”

  Sebastian only hummed in response, his thoughts drifting toward the upcoming job. Dutch had been keeping most of the details quiet, but word had gotten around that the ferry carried more money than any bank they had hit before. It was an opportunity Dutch wouldn’t pass up and neither would Micah. That alone made Sebastian uneasy.

  As the sun dipped below the treetops, casting long shadows across camp, he set the rifle down beside him and let out a slow breath. In just a few days, everything was going to change. He could feel it.

  -------

  The day of the heist arrived with a tense energy hanging over the camp. Dutch had gathered the men in the early hours of the evening, standing near the wagons with a confident gleam in his eye. The gang members chosen for the job Dutch, Micah, Davey, Mac, Javier, Sean, John, and Sebastian stood ready, their weapons checked and their minds set on what was to come.

  “This is it, boys,” Dutch said, his voice smooth and charismatic as ever. “This is the kind of job that sets us up for good. A ferry, packed with money, heading through Blackwater. If we do this right, we’ll be sitting pretty for months.”

  Micah grinned, adjusting his gun belt. “I told ya, Dutch, this is the one. This is how we show ‘em who we are.”

  Sebastian barely suppressed a scoff, keeping his expression neutral. Micah had been talking about this job non-stop since he rode in with the news, and something about his enthusiasm didn’t sit right. Still, Dutch had made his decision, and there was no turning back now.

  Sean leaned over toward Mac and Davey, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, this oughta be fun. Ain’t every day we rob a ferry, eh?”

  Javier gave a short nod, his usual calm demeanor in place. “Just stay focused. We get in, we get the money, and we get out.”

  Sebastian checked his Litchfield rifle one last time, then glanced at John, who was quieter than usual. The man looked tense, his jaw set, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced this was a good idea.

  Dutch clapped his hands together. “Alright, we ride into Blackwater at sundown. Keep your wits about you, and trust in me. This will go smooth.”

  Sebastian adjusted his hat, taking in the faces of the men around him. He wasn’t sure about Micah, and something in his gut told him this job was going to be anything but smooth.

  But there was no turning back now.

  The Van der Linde gang was riding into Blackwater, the ferry job was nearing its beginning.

  The ride into Blackwater was quiet, save for the occasional murmur of conversation between the men. The town glowed in the fading light, lanterns lining the streets, their warm flicker casting long shadows on the cobbled roads. The air was thick with the scents of river water, horse sweat, and the faint aroma of cooking food from the saloons.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Sebastian kept his gaze sharp, his eyes scanning for anything out of place. Dutch rode ahead, his posture straight, exuding the kind of confidence that made men follow him into hell without question. Beside him, Micah was grinning, practically bouncing in his saddle. The bastard was too eager.

  Sebastian had done a lot of jobs with the gang, but something about this one made his stomach twist.

  They reached the edge of town and pulled their horses into an alley near the docks, just out of sight from the main road. The ferry was in view now, a grand thing, its windows glowing with the promise of wealth. It was a luxury vessel, the kind used by bankers, oilmen, and politicians.

  “Alright, boys,” Dutch said, dismounting and tying his horse to a post. “Stick to the plan. We get on, get the money, and get off before anyone’s the wiser.”

  Micah chuckled. “Ain’t nobody gonna see us comin’.”

  Sebastian exchanged a look with Javier, who gave him a subtle nod. They’d worked together long enough to know when something smelled bad.

  “Let’s go,” Dutch said, motioning them forward.

  The gang moved with purpose, each man falling into place. Sean and Davey took the lead, approaching the gangplank as if they were just another pair of travelers. Dutch, Javier, and Sebastian followed a few paces behind, keeping their hats low. Mac and John stayed back to watch for any trouble, while Micah lingered close to Dutch, that damn grin never leaving his face.

  Sebastian kept his Litchfield slung over his back, his hand resting near his sidearm. The ferry was lively, filled with well-dressed folk laughing over drinks, oblivious to what was about to happen.

  They stepped aboard. The air was thick with the scent of cigars and expensive whiskey. A pianist played in the corner, his fingers gliding over the keys, filling the room with a smooth, cheerful tune.

  Dutch gave a small nod.

  It was time.

  Javier and Sean moved first, slipping toward the back where the safe was supposed to be. Sebastian followed Dutch, keeping an eye on the guests. Micah strutted toward the bar, leaning against it like he owned the place.

  Then, just as planned, Sean fired the first shot.

  The music stopped.

  Screams erupted as people scrambled away, knocking over tables and chairs. Dutch drew his revolver, his voice booming over the chaos.

  “Everybody stay calm, and nobody gets hurt!”

  Sebastian moved fast, drawing his gun as he scanned the room. Micah let out a wild laugh, shoving a man aside as he made his way toward the cash reserves.

  Javier and Sean were already working on the safe, the heavy clang of metal on metal ringing out through the room.

  Sebastian kept his gun raised, his heartbeat steady. The job was going well so far.

  Then, a gunshot cracked through the air.

  And everything went to hell.

  The shot rang out from the back of the ferry a guard, maybe, or some drunk with a pistol trying to be a hero. Either way, it was enough to send the already panicked crowd into a full-blown frenzy.

  Sebastian pivoted toward the sound, his revolver steady as he scanned the chaos. The others were moving fast Javier and Sean were still working the safe, John and Mac covering them, while Dutch and Micah held the room in check.

  Then it happened.

  A woman well dressed in fine silks, maybe the wife of some rich banker turned toward Dutch in the confusion. Her eyes locked onto him, recognition dawning in an instant.

  “You…” she gasped, horror spreading across her face. “I know you! You’re—”

  Before she could finish, Micah was already beside Dutch, his voice a whispering hiss. “She’s seen you, Dutch. You know what to do.”

  Dutch hesitated.

  Sebastian saw it the momentary flicker of doubt in his leader’s eyes.

  Then Micah pressed further, his tone sharp, insistent. “Come on, Dutch, no witnesses.”

  The hesitation passed. Dutch’s expression hardened.

  Without another word, he raised his revolver and pulled the trigger.

  The woman crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around the silken folds of her dress. The air went still for half a second then the screaming started again, louder, shriller.

  “Shit,” Javier cursed from the back. “We got it! Let’s move!”

  Sebastian’s gut twisted, but there was no time to dwell on it.

  Then came another sound.

  Whistles.

  Gunfire.

  Boots pounding on the wooden planks outside.

  Pinkertons.

  “Son of a bitch,” John snarled, peering out a side window. “We got company. A lot of it.”

  “They must’ve been waitin’ for us,” Mac growled, already checking his rifle.

  Dutch turned sharply, his mind racing. “Everybody, fall back! Now!”

  Sebastian tightened his grip on his Litchfield as the gang moved fast, ducking as bullets shattered windows and splintered wood.

  They had the money. Now they just had to get out alive.

  Sebastian turned at the sound of a struggle just in time to see Sean get blindsided. A burly man, faster than he had any right to be, slammed the butt of his rifle into the Irishman’s skull.

  Sean barely had time to curse before he crumpled to the ground.

  “Sean!” Javier shouted, starting toward him.

  “No time!” Dutch barked. “Move!”

  Sebastian hesitated for half a second, heart hammering, but more Pinkertons were pouring onto the ferry. Gunfire roared through the confined space, bullets tearing through walls and splintering the banisters.

  “Shit,” Mac growled. “Where the hell is he?”

  Sebastian couldn’t see Sean through the chaos. The Pinkertons were already closing in around him, dragging him away.

  “We can’t get to him!” John shouted, firing a round that clipped a Pinkerton in the shoulder. “We gotta go!”

  “Move, move, move!” Dutch ordered, his voice cutting through the din of gunfire.

  Sebastian cursed under his breath but fell back with the rest of the gang, weaving through overturned tables and bodies as they made their escape.

  Sean was gone.

  They had no choice but to leave him behind.

  Bullets tore through the air, the deafening crack of gunfire drowning out the shouts of lawmen and outlaws alike. The ferry was a warzone. Smoke from discharged weapons filled the confined space, stinging Sebastian’s eyes as he ducked behind an overturned table, heart pounding against his ribs.

  Javier fired blindly around a corner, cursing in Spanish. “There’s too many of them!”

  Mac bared his teeth, blood dripping down his temple from a grazing shot. “Then we kill ‘em all!” He surged forward, unloading his revolver into the nearest Pinkerton, dropping him before he could aim.

  Sebastian pulled his own gun up, snapping off a shot that sent a lawman sprawling. He didn’t even have time to breathe before another one came charging, shotgun raised.

  Think.

  Sebastian grabbed a fallen chair and hurled it, throwing the Pinkerton off just long enough for him to send a bullet clean through his chest. The man dropped like a sack of bricks.

  “Come on!” John bellowed, shoving Dutch forward as more Pinkertons swarmed the ferry’s deck. “We ain’t gonna last much longer!”

  “We hold the line!” Dutch roared back, voice unshaken even as bullets chewed through the wood around him.

  “Goddammit, Dutch, there ain’t no line left to hold!”

  Sebastian gritted his teeth, snapping his rifle up and firing at another agent creeping toward them. The shot struck true, but there were always more.

  From behind, Micah let out a crazed laugh, picking off Pinkertons with ruthless efficiency. “This is what I live for, boys!”

  Sebastian barely had time to register Micah’s words before he heard a sickening thud Mac Callander stumbled, blood blooming across his side.

  “Mac!” Davey shouted, rushing to his brother’s side.

  Mac wheezed, but still managed to grin through the pain. “Ain’t done yet…”

  Dutch’s voice cut through the chaos. “We need to get off this goddamn boat! Now!”

  Sebastian’s gaze darted to the edge of the ferry. The gang was outnumbered, outgunned. If they didn’t leave now, they’d never leave at all.