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...
When dawn finally began to brighten the horizon, Caleb recognized the terrain ahead. A familiar hollow. A lake that he remembers from the game. Elysian Pool. The waters shimmered a muted green in the early light, mist drifting gently across the surface. It was quiet. Secluded. Safe enough for a brief rest.
Caleb lifted his hand. "We'll stop here. Let everyone rest before moving on."
Hosea signaled the wagons to halt. Arthur brought the lead wagon to a careful stop near the rocks. People began climbing down, stretching their aching limbs, unwrapping blankets, rubbing their sore backs.
The moment the wagons stopped, Mary-Beth climbed down with a relieved sigh, her shawl wrapped tighter around her shoulders.
Caleb dismounted and Morgan lowered her head to nudge at his shoulder, demanding affection. He scratched her jaw gratefully. "You did good, girl. Real good. You earned your rest."
Charles joined him, scanning the area. "Good choice. Quiet. No trails nearby. Hard to spot from afar."
"Exactly," Caleb murmured.
Charles then stretched his back a bit. "You keep navigating like this, Caleb… we just might survive this mess."
Caleb laughed lightly. "That's the plan."
They let the gang settle in, lighting small fires, passing around water, letting the horses graze. The air smelled of dew and pine.
Mary-Beth approached Caleb, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. "You rode all night," she said softly. "You must be exhausted."
"Not yet," Caleb replied, though he definitely felt strain pulling at his shoulders.
She stepped closer. Her hand brushed his arm, not intimate, but gentle. Supportive. "You're doing a lot for all of us."
He smiled softly. "Only what I can."
Her eyes held gratitude. Real, warm, honest gratitude. "Well… it means a lot."
They stood beside each other in the morning quiet, watching the gang rest, watching the sun slowly rise.
Charles came over with a canteen, handing it to Caleb. "Drink. You need it more than most."
Caleb chuckled. "Thanks."
While he drank, Charles turned his gaze to the treeline. "We made good progress. If we keep the pace steady, we'll reach the valley safely."
Caleb nodded. "That's the plan."
And inwardly, he thought. 'And I'm not letting this gang fall apart the way it did before. Not this time.'
While the others rested, Caleb used the brief lull to plan the next stretch. Roanoke Ridge was tricky. The forest would thicken. The land rose unevenly. Ambush points were everywhere. Wolves, bandits, even theres chances they could possibly encounter a bear or even a cougar, which lurked in the forest.
He would have to guide them carefully.
As he studied his mental map, he caught Arthur watching him from the wagon seat. Not suspicious. Just thoughtful. A little tired. Still weighed down by whatever he was processing earlier.
Caleb walked over. "You holding up?"
Arthur shrugged. "Been worse." Then he sighed. "But… thanks."
"For what?"
"For lookin' out for all of us." Arthur glanced toward Mary-Beth, then back at Caleb. "And for her. She's… tough in her own way. But she needs someone who actually sees her."
Caleb's chest warmed a little. "I do."
"I know." Arthur nodded once. Approval, quiet but real. Then he added, "You're doin' good, Caleb. Keep it up."
The words meant more than he expected.
The rest break continued. People ate quietly. Tilled their canteens. Adjusted their gear. The light grew stronger, and the shadows retreated. Elysian Pool wasn't mean for a long stop after all, just long enough to rest the horses, drink water, and let the gang shake off the exhaustion of riding all night.
Dutch didn't speak much. He watched the lake with distant eyes, his face unreadable. Hosea kept watching him from a distance, worry etched deep into the lines of his face.
The sky then brightened been further, as the mist thinned. Birds began to chatter in the trees. Eventually, Hosea stood with a stretch, wincing slightly at his back. "Alright everyone," he called, "ten more minutes, then we move. Caleb, Charles, be ready."
Caleb nodded.
He walked back to Morgan, running his hand through her mane. "Another stretch, girl. Then we find our new home."
Mary-Beth approached once more, stopping beside him. "Be careful up there," she murmured.
"I will."
She hesitated, then reached up and touched his cheek. Just with her palm. Just gently. Enough to make his breath still.
"I'm glad you're with us," she said softly.
He placed his hand over hers. "I'm glad you're here too."
Then she withdrew, cheeks warming, and walked back toward the other girls, where Karen immediately nudged her with a knowing smirk.
Caleb exhaled, feeling something warm settle in his chest. Something hopeful.
Soon, Hosea called them again.
"Alright everyone! Break's over! Back on your horses and wagons! Let's get movin'!"
Caleb mounted Morgan. Charles mounted beside him.
The sun was rising.
The road ahead was dangerous.
Roanoke Valley awaited, deep forests, hidden threats, shifting fates.
Caleb took a deep breath, lifted his hand, and signaled the caravan forward.
The sun crested higher over the treetops as the last traces of morning mist burned away from Elysian Pool. With the break concluded, the Van der Linde gang reorganized themselves with the efficiency of practiced survivors. Horses were hitched, fires were doused, blankets were packed, and the faint quiet of the lake retreated behind them as Caleb and Charles once again rode to the front of the caravan.
Caleb guided Morgan up the incline that led toward the northern trail. The air grew cooler as the forest canopy thickened, filtering sunlight into mottled patches across the ground. Birds chattered softly above, but otherwise, the world felt still, eerily still.
Caleb knew these woods, through memories of the game which have some difference as reality had carved it into them. The ridge was steeper here, the rocks sharper, the treelines denser. The path narrowed and the ground became uneven, roots snaking through the dirt. But the main road was their safest choice. At least for the wagons.
"This way," Caleb called back quietly, raising a hand and signaling the shift. Charles followed the movement of his arm instantly, steering his horse toward the broader road ahead.
The main road was empty. Almost unnaturally so.
Caleb scanned the shadows with his Eagle Eye instincts sharpened, if not fully activated. The layout was as he remembered, mountainous terrain to the east, thick woods to the west.
The trail ahead sloped gently upward, then plateaued into a ridge. Up here, barely anyone traveled except trappers, game hunters, or people trying not to be found. In the game, this place was alive with random encounters; in reality, anything could happen.
And silence was their greatest ally right now. No one could know where they were relocating. Not bounty hunters. Not Pinkertons.
God forbid.
A cold breeze rustled the leaves overhead. Charles slowed slightly, leaning forward in his saddle, eyes narrowing at the road ahead and the brush to the sides.
Caleb noticed the change immediately, Charles' posture shifting subtly, the way he always did when he sensed something off.
Then Charles suddenly stiffened.
He raised his hand, his fingers making a sharp slicing motion through the air.
Stop.
Caleb instantly responded, pulling Morgan back. The caravan behind him followed smoothly, Hosea reading the signal flawlessly and gesturing the wagons to a halt without making a sound. Dust settled slowly in the air as everyone quieted their breathing.
Caleb leaned toward Charles. "What is it?" he whispered.
Charles didn't look at him. His eyes stayed forward, then swept left. His nostrils flared slightly as he listened to the forest.
"Movement," he murmured. "Small. Low to the ground. And fast."
Caleb frowned. "Deer? Rabbit?"
Charles slowly shook his head. "The way it moved… more like a predator. Cat, most likely."
Caleb grimaced. "Cougar?"
"Possibly."
Caleb resisted the urge to curse out loud but let out a low groan through gritted teeth. "Damn it. Of course it's that."
This was exactly what he'd been dreading since they left Elysian Pool. Ambush points everywhere, predators just as common as bandits, and the occasional event that the game never hinted at. Survival up here wasn't guaranteed, even for someone with knowledge.
He didn't want to risk gunshots, they needed to stay invisible. So unless it attacked first, or they were forced to defend themselves, firearms would be the option of last resort.
Caleb silently reached behind his saddle and pulled out his bow, sliding an arrow from the quiver secured beside it. The wood felt familiar beneath his fingers, comforting, balancing. He kept the arrow nocked but not drawn.
He turned back to Hosea, keeping his voice low. "Cougar, possibly. Make sure everyone stays alert. Eyes open. No loud noise unless necessary."
Hosea exhaled sharply and muttered, "Of all the goddamn things…"
Then he nodded. "Alright. Keep everyone sharp. And silent."
Sean, riding shotgun on one of the wagons, stiffened beside Lenny. "Cougar? Here?" he whispered.
"Quiet," Lenny murmured. "Don't rile it."
Hosea leaned forward. "Charles, should we keep moving slow-like? Or stay put?"
Charles considered for a moment, weighing risks with that same steady, hunter's calm he always carried. Then he nodded. "Slow. If we sit here, it might come closer out of curiosity… or hunger."
"That's uplifting," Sean muttered quietly.
"Better than waiting to be pounced," Charles replied.
Caleb nodded in agreement. "Alright. Everyone keeps eyes open. No distractions."
He tapped Morgan's flank lightly and began moving forward at a crawl. Charles stayed beside him. Behind them, the caravan rolled with extra caution, wheels creaking only slightly, horses snorting softly but staying disciplined.
Caleb activated Eagle Eye, not fully draining himself, just enough to sharpen the world into contrast. Colors deepened. The forest brightened faintly. Movement became easier to track.
Then he saw it.
A flicker of grey.
There, between the shrubs, weaving silently through the high grass, tail low, body flat to the earth, eyes fixed forward.
A silhouette pulsing faintly in his vision.
The cougar prowled with lethal grace, inching closer, circling ahead, trying to position itself for the perfect strike.
Caleb's heartbeat steadied. The world around him dimmed, the yellow tint of Dead Eye bleeding into the edges of his sight as instinct overwrote conscious thought. He pulled the bowstring back. The familiar pressure built in his fingers and shoulders.
Dead Eye surged, as his perception slowing, narrowing, targeting.
A small red "x" glowed in the center of the cougar's forehead in his mind's eye.
He released the arrow.
It cut through the air, slicing across the space between them with a sharp whistle.
Charles flinched in surprise, turning his head. Before he could ask what Caleb was doing, the arrow struck with a heavy, fleshy thud.
A short, harsh yowl split the silent forest.
Then quiet.
Charles let out a breath. A small smile tugged at his mouth. "Good shot."
Caleb lowered his bow. "Got lucky," he murmured.
"You saw it before I did," Charles replied, voice tinged with respect. "That's skill, not luck."
Behind them, Hosea rose slightly in the seat of the wagon, squinting. "Is it dead?"
"Yes," Charles confirmed.
Hosea nodded, then gestured sharply. "Sean! Lenny! Go fetch it. Bring it on one of the wagons, we're not wasting meat."
Sean groaned but obeyed. "Always the bloody cats…"
"Better a dead one than a hungry one licking its lips," Lenny replied dryly.
As they retrieved the cougar corpse and secured it, the caravan resumed its journey. With the immediate danger gone, tension eased slightly, but no one fully relaxed. The woods remained thick, the terrain uneven, the wind cool and sharp as they crept farther north through the forest.
Eventually, the slope changed.
The trail descended gently, revealing a long view of rolling hills, sharp mountain edges, winding riverbanks, and a valley stretching in both directions.
Roanoke Valley.
Caleb inhaled. The air here smelled fresher, cleaner, filled with pine and river spray. The sound of rushing water echoed faintly through the valley. The forest thinned somewhat, giving way to open pockets of greenery.
Charles surveyed the surroundings, nodding appreciatively. "This… this is promising. Water, shelter, forest cover, open field nearby. Could be exactly what we need."
Caleb smiled slightly. "Agreed. We need a look around before committing, but this feels right." They dismounted, instructing the caravan to hold position while they scouted. Both men walked ahead, checking elevation, visibility, potential approach routes, and natural barriers.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 7/10
- Luck: 8/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 4)
- Rifle (Lvl 4)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 4)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 3)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 4)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 3)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 3)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 2)
- Crafting (Lvl 3)
- Persuasion (Lvl 3)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 4)
- Teaching (Lvl 2)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl 4)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,655 dollars and 10 cents
Inventory: 104,669 dollars and 72 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 64 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, & 1 Ruby
Bank: -