October 9th 1857-Deacon Roberts

I sat on the porch and let the morning sun warm my face. It was a beautiful day. The orange morning sun washed across the prairie grass and highlighted the opening flower buds in golden light. In the distance a small group of pine trees stood proudly on a hill, accompanying a cluster of boulders half as big as the trees themselves. 

As my brother walked closer I saw him drag his right leg behind him. He had hurt it in a farming accident years earlier but we never had enough money for meds to fix it. He never once complained. Even when he could barely move it and was in unbearable agony he never complained. He never even made a face in front of me, every time I saw how much pain he was in was when he was turning away or not realizing I was looking.

“Look what came in the mail today.” He grunted, flipping through a newspaper till he arrived at a wanted poster. And my face started back at me with the words ‘Wanted dead or Alive’ staring back at me in large blocky letters.

“Look at that!” He yelled pointing at letters. He started to read it out loud “Wanted Dead or alive, 400 dollar reward, for horse theft! What in the world were you doing?” 

“You know we need horses, and we need the money. And I saw the farm they came from, it's one of those big ones with the large white stone house in the center. People in suits and ties walkin’ round everywhere. I'm sure they can spare them. Besides, they'll never find out I'm here.”

“Never find out? Look around! There's nothing but prairie for miles! Do you think the grass is going to hide you here?” He started to pace.

“You know we need that money!” I said. “All we've been eating is month-old beans and we still don't have enough medicine for your leg! I did that for you! For you! Maybe this way we can finally have enough for food and your medicine.”

His face turned angry and bitter, usually soft features twisted by anger and sorrow. “Don't even! Don't you dare try to justify yourself with that! You are not selling those horses, and if you do I will not take a single penny from it! ” He spat, throwing the newspaper to the side and off the porch. I knew I had gone too far.  He was about to say something but decided not to and swung himself onto his horse.

“Hey! Where are you going?” I said jumping out of my chair and snatching up the newspaper. He didn't respond. “And where are you even going? Hey, I understand if you're angry but there's no need to-” He beckoned me to shut up, ran back inside, and came out with a small black wooden box.

“I'm going back into town to pay off your bounty. Give me two days till sundown and I'll be back. I hope that's enough time before someone gets going after you.”

Shock spread across my face, “You can't spend that money! That's all we have left…” I said looking at the box in shame.

My brother looked at me with a dead serious expression and stated, “I know, that's why I wish you wouldn't have stolen those horses.” And without a further word, he left.

October 9th 1857-Joshua White

A 400-dollar bounty sounds quite good to me, the moment I saw that bounty poster I thought of all the things I could buy with that money. That is a good year of work, and some more on top of that. Better than that, I already have a lead for where he could be. I talked to the farmhand who saw the man steal the horses and he said the culprit went east. And there's nothing east of here but prairie east of here. I’ll find him in less than a day if he's out there. I'm getting going tonight, better to leave early before someone steals the bounty away from me.

October 11th 1857-Joshua White

I think I've found him, I'm in a bit of forest, pine trees with massive boulders, half the size of the trees just to the right of me. It's a perfect spot really and I don't even have to get too close to do it. I'll wait until evening to start, he's not going anywhere.

October 11th 1857-Deacon Roberts

As evening approached I decided to make some dinner and opened the back door to grab wood for the oven. A small pile stood by the house wall covered in an old and rotten rag. I took the newspaper from yesterday to use as kindling and tossed it into the stove with the logs, struck a match, lit it, and put some tea on the stove. Then I put my hat over my face, laid back in my chair, and promptly fell asleep. 

Phweeeeee

Phweeeeeee

The tea kettle shook violently, whistling louder and louder. A small droplet of boiling water hit the stove and fizzed and burbled until it was turned into mist. I rubbed my eyes and slowly stood up.

Phweeeeeeeee

I rubbed my eyes, walked up to the stove a-

BANG

The glass shattered wood splinters launched all across the room and the tea kettle was hurled against the wall spilling its boiling continents all over the floor. I saw the bullet hole in the wall, half an inch in diameter, and still smoking. I spun around and saw the shattered window, and threw myself down onto the ground. I felt my heart pounding in my ribs. I crawled to the chair that I had stood up out off and curled myself into a ball behind it.

BANG

The chair leg exploded into pieces causing the chair to fall on top of me. In pushing the chair off me and crawling across the floor, pieces of glass dug their way into my forearms creating a mixture of dust, blood, broken glass, and wood chips on the floor. I pushed myself close to the wall under the window, trying to escape the sight of who was shooting at me. 

BANG

A bullet went straight through the wall and into the floor right beside me. Like an animal scared out of its burrow, I crawled across the floor, past the broken chair, and pieces of glass that were scattered from one side of the room to the other. I almost burned my hand when I crawled past the stove, the water that spilled from the kettle was still boiling hot. 

BANG

Another bullet, but I kept moving, reaching the back door and throwing myself into the high grass. The soft yet sticky blades of grass grabbed onto my sweat-drenched skin and as I crawled further seeds and grasshoppers made their way onto my back. The cuts on my forearms burned as the dirt rubbed into them. Shaikly I turned my head to look up at the sky trying to spot the sun, but with how high the grass was I couldn't see it. I knew it must be late evening at least since the sun was low enough that I couldn't see it, just a couple more hours till sundown. 

I looked behind me to see if I made a path crawling in the prairie, but to my surprise, the plants seemed close behind me. Stems bounced back into place as I crawled further. Taking a deep breath I swallowed deeply and continued to crawl. At least this way I was out of sight and therefore safe, and I would keep going until I could go no longer. And crawl I did, I kept crawling on and on for what felt like both just a moment and an eternity. 

I lost track of time and most of all my senses as made apparent when I saw my brother lifting me up out of the grass and placing me against a nearby rock.

Dizzy from exhaustion I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. “You wanna know what happened?” My brother said sitting down next to me in the grass.

I nodded yes looking at his face in confusion. He sighed like he always did but spoke anyway. “Bounty hunter must have come through, by looking at the house I figured he must have a sniper rifle or something big, but that doesn't matter you know that.” He pointed at our cabin in the distance and said “I talked to him there by the house. Somehow after a lot of talking I convinced him to give up his search for you if he could take the horses. I told him how much the horses were worth and how much he could sell them for. The guy left in a heartbeat.”

I chuckled, shaking my head and looking at my bloody forearms. “I guess everyone is just trying to make a living..”

I mumbled, “But what will we do without that money?” I said looking at him with worry. “I know you paid off my bounty with what money we had left.” I felt horrible for all he had to do for me, was I no more than a child? Could I not take care of myself?

He shook his head and laughed in a way that was both reassuring and grief-stricken and stated, “I guess we'll starve.”