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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.
"Alright, girl," he murmured, patting her neck. "Let's get back. They'll be waitin'."
He turned her around and kicked off at a steady pace toward Horseshoe Overlook.
The ride back was peaceful, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the Heartlands. Caleb kept his senses alert, but the land seemed quiet - no Pinkertons, no Cornwall's men, just the occasional deer bounding away through the tall grass.
As he rode, he reflected on the day's events. Saving the family had been the right thing to do, regardless of the reward.
But the gold would certainly help, as he needs more funds for his business, and even if this gold bar wasn't of the same value as the normal gold bar, which he remembers from the game, it is still very good.
More importantly, he'd seen the beginnings of change in Arthur. That moment when Arthur had actually apologized to the family... that hadn't happened in the original timeline. It was a small step, but an important one.
The sun had begun its descent when the trail to Horseshoe Overlook came into view, bathed in golden orange hues. Smoke curled faintly from the campfires beyond the ridge, and Caleb spotted movement, figures. The gang had already begun settling into their new home.
As Caleb reached the perimeter, Pearson waved from the stew pot, swabbing the inside of a kettle. "You're back! Dutch said you'd be in soon."
Caleb gave a quick nod, guiding Morgan past. He saw Charles sitting on a barrel nearby, chewing on a piece of jerky. Arthur stood near his horse, brushing him down, but looked up when Caleb arrived.
"You get him back alright?" Arthur asked gruffly.
"Yeah," Caleb said, dismounting and looping Morgan's reins around a post. "The whole family was still at their old camp. Safe and sound. They immediately moved after that."
Arthur gave a grunt that passed for approval. "Good work."
"Charles told Dutch," Arthur continued. "We're movin' into Clements Point. Whole camp's been busy settin' up since morning, so any moment it will be done."
"Glad to hear it," Caleb replied.
Just then, Dutch emerged from his tent, his fine coat unbuttoned, arms spread in theatrical welcome.
"Caleb, my boy!" Dutch's voice boomed. "Heard you did good work out there. Arthur and Charles filled me in. And I gotta say, this new spot... it's perfect. You've got an eye for these things."
Caleb shrugged. "I'm just lucky that I remembered that place that, if we didn't help that German family I will need to remember that."
Dutch stepped closer and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "No matter what you deciding to save the family got us that place. You're a valuable man to have around, son. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Caleb offered a faint smile, but didn't say much. Compliments always made him uneasy, especially when they came with an agenda.
Dutch lingered another second, then waved expansively. "Go get yourself some food. We've got a camp to settle. And I imagine you've earned yourself a rest."
As Dutch strode away, Caleb took a deep breath and looked around the camp.
The tents were being pitched. Crates unloaded. People moving around, talking, laughing, working. This wasn't just survival, it was home, even if temporary.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a whirlwind of activity. Caleb helped Pearson pack up the cookware, secured the medical supplies with Reverend Swanson, and made sure the weapons were properly stored for transport.
As he worked, he noticed the gang's mood was surprisingly upbeat. Despite the sudden move, people seemed energized, a bit excited even. Change, it seemed, was welcome after weeks of looking over their shoulders at Horseshoe Overlook.
Susan Grimshaw bustled past, her arms full of linens. "Don't just stand there, Mr. Thorne! We've got work to do!"
"Yes, ma'am," Caleb said with a grin, tipping his hat before moving to help Tilly with the women's tent.
The caravan moved out steadily through the Heartlands, the sky above now painted in rich amber and burnt gold. The wheels clattered over the rough dirt path, the distant chirp of crickets slowly growing louder as the day slipped into the evening.
Caleb rode at the rear of the line, a steady sentinel atop Morgan. The mare moved with sure footing, her ears flicking every now and then, responding to the faintest stir of the wind.
Caleb kept one hand firmly on the reins, the other gripping his polished Lancaster repeater, thumb occasionally brushing over the trigger guard. His eyes were sharp, scanning every shadow, every patch of tall grass, every ridge and dip that could hide a watching eye.
Ahead of him, the caravan stretched, four wagons strong, each packed with the Van der Linde gang's most essential belongings. The first wagon, led by Charles, bore Dutch at the shotgun, surveying the world with arms folded and his hat dipped low.
Hosea and Arthur rode with the second, Pearson and Miss Grimshaw in the third, and the last wagon carried the women, the clothes, and the miscellaneous cache. The air was filled with the creaking of wheels, the snorts of horses, and the occasional bark of an order from Miss Grimshaw.
The journey was tense but calm. Every time a bird burst from a tree or a deer crossed their path, Caleb's heart jumped, part of him still expecting Pinkertons or bounty hunters to come crashing through the trees. But nothing came. No riders. No lawmen. Just the quiet hum of dusk and the occasional whisper of the wind through the grass.
He caught sight of a rabbit sprinting across the trail ahead. A hawk circled high above. The world was alive but, for once, not out for blood.
An hour and a half passed in this quiet vigilance. The shadows deepened, and stars began peeking through the heavens by the time they reached the familiar trail Caleb had marked in his mind, a narrow track branching off from the main road, veiled by pine and oak.
And then, as they passed the forest, the shimmering waters of the Kamassa River came into view, and the clearing of Clements Point.
Caleb spurred Morgan forward and rode up to the head of the caravan, just as the wagons began to fan out. He came up alongside the lead wagon, where Charles guided the horses with a steady hand and Dutch lounged beside him. Dutch looked over and beamed when he saw Caleb.
"Oh, Caleb," Dutch said, spreading his arms in theatrical satisfaction. "You were right. This place... it'll be perfect for us to make camp." He spread his arms wide, taking in the peninsula. "I don't know where exactly we are, but we'll make the best of this location and make it a home."
Caleb gave a small, approving nod as Caleb guide Morgan alongside the wagon. "This area's close to a town called Rhodes, just east of here. Supplies won't be too hard to get."
Dutch's eyes twinkled. "Oh? You've been in these parts before, son?"
Caleb kept his tone casual, eyes forward. "Yeah, I traveled around a bit before deciding to settle in Valentine's."
"I see," Dutch mused, rubbing his chin. "Well, it's good you know the area. At least we ain't blind here."
As the wagon slowed, Dutch jumped down, boots crunching softly on the gravel and soil. Caleb reined Morgan to the side, pulling her away so as not to accidentally bump into the gang's leader. Dutch, always the showman, pulled a cigar from his vest, lit it with a flourish, and raised his voice in that familiar commanding timbre.
"Mrs. Grimshaw! Mr. Pearson! Put everyone to work! Make this place a proper home for all of us!"
The wagons rolled into position, wheels coming to a stop, and soon figures were moving about in earnest. Grimshaw immediately began barking orders, directing the women to pitch tents, the men to unload the wagons, and the womens to gather firewood and water.
Pearson cursed loudly as he unloaded crates, and Swanson stumbled down from the third wagon, clutching a half empty bottle.
Caleb sat still for a moment atop Morgan, overlooking it all. The firelight began to flicker through the darkening woods, the chatter and clang of tools and cookware. Despite everything, it felt… hopeful.
And then it happened.
DING.
A soft chime rang in Caleb's mind, clear as a bell. His breath caught as the familiar blue shimmer of his system interface suddenly appeared in the air before him, visible only to his eyes. Words scrolled in glowing text.
System Update:
You have successfully survived a critical transition and contributed to the long term development of the camp.
You have entered the next chapter of the world.
Reward Granted:
- Permanent Inventory System Unlocked (Size: 5x5x5 cardboard box)
- New Skill Acquired: Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
Caleb blinked. "No way…"
His heart pounded. An inventory system. He'd been dreaming of this, some kind of secure storage, something to free him from the anxiety of always carrying valuables or losing them to random tragedy. Even if the space was no bigger than a cardboard box, the sheer utility was staggering.
He opened the inventory with a thought, and sure enough, a neat 3D grid appeared, 25 cubic slots, floating in a spatial matrix. With just a touch of willpower, he focused on the small pouch of gold nuggets in his satchel, and with a soft shimmer, they vanished from his hand and appeared in one of the slots.
"Unreal..." he muttered.
Then there was the language skill, Germanic Language Proficiency. He remembered the family he'd saved, the way the father struggled with English. Was this a gift for helping them?
Still, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment. Useful, sure, but unless more Germans showed up, it wasn't exactly urgent.
"Mr. Thorne!" Susan Grimshaw's voice snapped him from his thoughts like a whip.
He jerked upright in the saddle and turned to see the camp matron standing with her hands on her hips, linen bundles stacked beside her. "You planning on sleeping up there all night? Get down and make yourself useful!"
"Yes, ma'am," he said quickly, dismounting.
He gave Morgan a reassuring pat before leading her to a small tree where he tied her reins, then jogged over to help set up the sleeping tents. As the night thickened, lanterns were lit, fires sparked to life, and the sound of chopping, hammering, and grumbling filled the air.
Caleb worked with the others, he helped Lenny secure the weapons tent, double checked the ammo crates, and assisted Charles in lifting a particularly stubborn chest filled with medical supplies.
By the time the camp was semi-functional, the moon hung high overhead, its reflection shimmering on the lake's calm surface. Most of the gang had gathered around the central fire, bowls of Pearson's questionable stew in hand.
Dutch held court at the head of the gathering, his voice carrying over the crackling flames. "This is a new beginning, my friends! A fresh start in an unknown land!" He raised his tin cup. "To a better future!"
"To a better future!" the gang echoed, tin cups and bottles raised.
Caleb sat slightly apart, observing the scene. The inventory system still occupied his thoughts. Between bites of stew, he continues to experiment mentally, storing and retrieving small items from his pockets, a coin, his knife, and a piece of a bullet. The system worked flawlessly, each item appearing and disappearing at will.
...
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)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX) → New
- Inventory System (Permanent, 5x5x5) → New
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