If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
...
The three of them immediately ride forward toward the smoke. The forest opened up to reveal a small clearing near the water's edge, where there was even a small dock on the side. There they saw a small cluster of camp, with a campfire in the middle, two tens, a wagon, and a big tree in the middle of the clearing.
But the camp appeared deserted.
No men, no voices. Just the hiss of the fire still crackling in the pit and the eerie chorus of cicadas building in the trees.
But Caleb knew better. His fingers tightened around his Lancaster repeater as they dismounted, his boots crunching softly on the dry earth.
"Where the hell is everybody?" Arthur muttered, his voice a gravelly rasp of suspicion as he slid down from his horse. His hand went instinctively to the grip of his revolver, drawing it in one smooth motion.
Charles followed suit, unholstered his sawed-off shotgun, the twin barrels gleaming in the sunlight, sweeping the area with his eyes. "I don't like this. Feels too quiet."
Caleb dismounted as well, gripping his Lancaster repeater. His eyes scanned every tent flap, every shadow behind a tree, knowing from the game that this was all a trap but he couldn't say it outright. "Yeah... something's off."
They advanced together, boots crunching leaves and gravel as they stepped cautiously into the center of the camp.
Arthur growled again. "So where is this guy? Hell, where is everybody?"
Charles looked around slowly, then nodded to himself. "I don't know… but you know something?" He gestured around with the weapon. "I agree with Caleb here. This spot's much better than Dewberry Creek for our camp spot. Easier to defend, more concealed from prying eyes. Got water nearby, too."
Caleb gave a wry grin. "Thanks, Charles. Appreciate the vote of confidence. Even Charles thinks this is a perfect spot, Arthur. So, what do you say now?"
Arthur grunted, casting a wary glance toward the tents. "Yeah, yeah, okay Caleb. I believe you."
As they moved through the camp's center, Caleb spotted exactly what he'd expected. He saw the German man in a prone position bound by the hands and feet, lying on the ground just behind the campfire, exactly how he remembered from his past life in the game. In front of the man was a wooden box with a bundle of rope, and nearby a rickety chair with a knife resting on its seat.
"There," Caleb pointed. "That's him."
Arthur's eyes followed Caleb's finger. "Yeah... that looks like our feller right there."
"Quick," Charles said, already stepping forward. "Let's cut him loose and get the hell outta here."
"Wait," Caleb interrupted sharply. "Something's not right here," he said, voice low and tight. "Why would they just leave him out here like that? With the fire still going? No one's here? It's too clean. This smells like a trap."
Charles immediately froze and turned toward the campfire, his eyes narrowing. Arthur's brow furrowed, and he muttered a curse as he crouched slightly.
And then—
CRACK!
A bullet slammed into the dirt just inches from Caleb's foot, throwing up a spray of soil.
"TAKE COVER!" Caleb shouted, diving behind a long wooden table and flipping it over in one fluid motion. Bullets peppered the makeshift barrier as he dragged it backward, positioning himself better, yanking his repeater into firing position.
Just as in his memories, Arthur dove behind a trio of barrels stacked near the wagon, while Charles ducked into cover behind a pile of burlap sacks beside one of the tents. More gunfire erupted, echoing through the clearing like thunderclaps.
"Three coming from our right!" Charles called out, peeking over his cover to fire two quick shots from his shotgun.
Caleb spotted movement in the trees. "Four from the left! Two on horseback!" He shouldered his Lancaster, activating Dead Eye. Time seemed to slow as he marked targets, first the rider on the bay mare, then the rifleman behind the oak, and finally the brute charging with a machete.
Three shots rang out in rapid succession, each finding its mark, and all three men fell like puppets with cut strings.
His Dead Eye faded as the cooldown set in, leaving him momentarily drained. Caleb blinked away the fatigue and ducked back under cover just as a bullet struck the table's edge with a sharp splintering crack, focusing on the remaining threats.
The firefight was brutal but brief. Arthur's revolver barked twice, dropping another assailant. Charles's shotgun boomed like thunder, sending the last two bandits scrambling for cover, only to be cut down by well placed repeater shots from Caleb.
Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the distant cry of a hawk and the groans of the dying.
"Well," Charles said, stepping out from cover and reloading his shotgun, "that's the last of them dealt with."
Arthur stepped out from behind the barrels, his revolver still up as he scanned the trees. "Damn ambush... They almost had us."
Charles hearing that nodded his head and then turned to Caleb. "You go on and get that man untied. Arthur and I will see what they've left behind for us."
Caleb lowered his repeater and stood, slinging it over his shoulder. He made his way to the bound man at the center of the camp, cautious even now. The man was bruised and gagged, panic and exhaustion etched into his dirt smudged face.
Kneeling beside him, Caleb pulled his knife and cut the rope around his wrists and ankles, then helped him sit up. The man pulled the gag from his mouth and rasped out something in German, a breathless, tearful string of thanks.
"No problem," Caleb said in English, helping the man to his feet. "It's what we should do."
The man grasped Caleb's arm briefly in gratitude.
Then Caleb turned and called over his shoulder, "I'll take him back to his family. You two loot the camp and let Dutch know this place is perfect for moving in. We need to move fast."
Arthur waved a hand. "Yeah, okay. Be careful out there."
"Don't worry," Caleb said, turning toward Morgan, who had wandered just a few feet away, ears twitching but unharmed. He swung up into the saddle and offered a hand to the freed man. "Come on. Let's get you back to your family."
The German man climbed up behind him, still shaken but clearly relieved.
Charles gave Caleb a nod as the young man turned Morgan toward the trees. "You did good, Caleb."
Caleb gave a smile. "So did you."
As Caleb retraced the path back to Dewberry Creek, Caleb kept his senses alert, scanning the tree line for any remaining threats. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across their path, the golden light filtering through the leaves in dappled patterns.
The man at this time spoke suddenly, his English broken but understandable. "You... good man. Not like others."
Caleb glanced back at him. "Just doing what's right."
"Mein family... safe?"
"They're waiting for you," Caleb assured him. "Worried, but unharmed."
The man made a sound that might have been a sob or a prayer. "Danke. Danke."
The rest of the ride continued in silence, the only sounds being the steady rhythm of Morgan's hooves against the dirt path and the occasional rustle of leaves overhead as the wind stirred the treetops.
Caleb didn't say much, he didn't have to. The German man, now seated behind him on Morgan, held on with a quiet reverence, occasionally murmuring a prayer or whispering a name.
They descended from the wooded ridge, following the winding trail that curved around the edge of the dry creekbed. As they rounded the final bend, the familiar sight of the German family's small camp came into view.
There it was, just as he remembered. A wagon, hitched with two tired looking horses, stood idle near the riverbed. Beside it, the German woman and her daughter were kneeling near the rear wheel, apparently fixing or cleaning something. The little boy sat idly on the other side of the wagon's front wheel, fiddling with a twig.
Caleb reined Morgan into a gentle trot, slowing down as they approached.
"Mein Schatz! Mein Liebling!" the German man suddenly shouted in his native tongue, his voice cracking with emotion, as he scrambled down from the saddle before Morgan even fully stopped.
His voice rang out over the empty plain like a bell, causing the woman to freeze and look up. Her eyes widened, and both hands flew to her mouth.
"Andreas! Andreas!" she cried, her voice thick with emotion.
The little boy jumped up, while the girl turned around with wide eyes. Andreas was already moving toward them with arms outstretched.
The woman rushed forward to meet him halfway, embracing him so tightly it looked like she might never let go. Her sobs were audible even from where Caleb sat in the saddle.
Caleb felt something stir in his chest, not just the satisfaction of completing an objective, but something warmer, deeper. The kind of feeling no mission reward or XP bar could replicate.
Andreas whispered something in German into his wife's ear, gently patting her back. Then he turned and hugged his daughter, lifting her up slightly, before kneeling and wrapping his arms around his young son, who clung to him like a lifeline. The boy didn't cry, he just smiled in stunned silence, burying his face into his father's shoulder.
A few moments passed before the family finally turned to face Caleb.
Still flanked by his children, Andreas stepped forward with a proud posture, his arm wrapped around his daughter's shoulders while his son clung to his leg. His wife stood beside him, her eyes still glistening. She said something quickly in German, something melodic and sincere.
A compliment. Praise. Caleb could guess not because of tone if or the words. But because he remembered perfectly the translation dialogue from the game.
Andreas nodded in agreement, adding something of his own. His accent was heavy, but the gratitude in his tone was universal.
Caleb, able to understand the specifics, choose to simply gave them a sheepish smile. "Thank you for the kind words," he replied. "But the four of you should get outta here. This place… it ain't safe. Not yet."
The woman tilted her head slightly, confused. The boy glanced up at his father. Andreas understood. Caleb could see it in his eyes.
Caleb made a shooing gesture with his hand, grinning slightly. "Go on. Move along now. Safe's not a word I'd use for this region right now."
Andreas blinked, then chuckled and nodded. "Yes, yes," he said in a heavy accent. "We go."
He turned back to the wagon, but paused once more. Reaching beneath the chassis, Andreas felt around with a practiced hand and pulled out something wrapped in a cloth bundle. When he opened it, the light of the sun caught the unmistakable gleam of a gold bar.
Caleb already expecting this, acted like he lifted his bfow slightly in surprise.
"For you," Andreas said solemnly, pressing it into Caleb's hands. "Danke. Danke… thank you."
Caleb looked at the gold bar, then back at the man. "You didn't have to. But… I appreciate it."
He slipped the bar into his satchel, nodding in acknowledgment. "Take care of them. Get far from here."
Andreas smiled and offered a final nod, before climbing up onto the wagon beside his wife and daughter.
The boy scrambled up after them. With a light crack of the reins and a shouted "Hyah!", the wagon creaked forward, wheels turning slowly as it carried the family away from the camp and toward safety. Caleb watched them go, eyes lingering until the wagon disappeared behind a copse of trees in the distance. Only when the dust settled did he mount back up onto Morgan.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 2)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 2)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)
- Poker (Lvl 3)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv1)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 2)
- Teaching (Lvl 1)
Money: 1463 dollars and 45 cents, 2 gold nuggets, and 1 gold bar
Bank: 320 dollars, 4 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets