Author's note: This is my crack at an AU where one of my favorite RDR2 characters does not die. I used some in-game dialogue to help out with my story, so I'm really hoping this doesn't count as plagiarism. The title of this piece of fiction is a play on the mission title "A Short Walk in a Pretty Town."

There was more dust than usual being kicked up by the high winds as the Arthur, Bill, Sean, and Micah began their walk to the saloon where they would meet with some of the Grays. According to Bill, they approached him about a job that needed security. Arthur was quick to express his concerns, because nothing was ever as simple as it seemed. Micah asserted that they needed to continue the charade of working for the Grays while covertly working for the family's long-time bitter enemies, the Braithwaites, at the same time. Regardless of the jobs offered to any of them, the payout was all the same: money. They needed plenty of it. Most importantly, the rumored gold needed to be discovered so that the Dutch van der Linde gang could snatch it for themselves and disappear to parks unknown.

Sure enough, the inevitable question bubbled to the surface.

"Can we trust them?" Sean asked.

Arthur added, "Can we trust anyone?"

More doubt arose as the group ventured along the streets and continued to discuss their situation. Did the Grays suspect that their new "recruits" had anything to do with the burning of their tobacco fields as well? They shouldn't—ideally, anyway. Arthur couldn't rid himself of the growing dread that pressed heavily upon him.

As they proceeded to walk past the sheriff's office, he knew something was wrong. They were smack dab in the middle of a stupid feud between two families when they had no business getting involved with either of them in the first place.

"This don't feel right," Arthur stated forebodingly, causing the other three to stop in their tracks.

Rhodes was quiet. Much too quiet. It was eerie as hell. There weren't even any carriages driving about.

Sean turned around with his rifle resting upon one shoulder and faced Arthur, Bill, and Micah. "Now it don't feel right," he remarked sarcastically. Yet before he could chime in with a follow up remark, a loud voice bellowed from seemingly out of nowhere.

"GAVIN!"

Sean's heart nearly leaped out of his chest and he reeled back a step. A gunshot cracked across the air. Dust exploded where the Irishman once stood and he yelped, "Jesus alive!"

Arthur cursed audibly as that bizarre idiot, Nigel, forever looking for his friend that may or may not exist, emerged from the side of the sheriff's office. The man was absolutely oblivious to his surroundings. Distressed as ever, he continued his pathetic call outs.

"Where are you, Gavin?!"

Nigel's voice trembled with worry as he strolled on by and headed back to the other side of Rhodes where Arthur first encountered him. The others could only stare after him, all of them dumbfounded by such randomness.

Armed men came out from their hiding spots and were undaunted by the inexplicable, chance encounter. They fired mercilessly at the four men standing out in the open. Arthur, Sean, Bill, and Micah dove for cover. Rapid gunfire was swiftly exchanged.

It was trap.

'Course it was, Arthur thought bitterly. He knew it. Sean even knew it. Well, time to find out if they can make it out of this mess alive.

The dust storm ceased by the time the unnerving silence reclaimed the town once more. Only this time, bodies were strewn everywhere, many of which included members of the Grays and their sympathizers.

An argument arose as Arthur and Micah went at it, trading barbs about things going wrong and taking accountability for such. Bill remained armed and kept quiet as he focused on making sure there were no more surprise gunmen waiting to pop out. Sean stood apart from the others, where he stared in disbelief at the spot where he'd been shot at. If that strange man hadn't shown up when he had, Sean was positive he would've had his brains splattered across the dirt. He wouldn't had known what hit him until it was too late. Unlike surviving the torture that he endured with the bounty hunters after the Blackwater robbery disaster, this time around, there wouldn't have been any coming back for the ginger Lazarus.

Micah wouldn't get off his high horse. He proudly proclaimed that knew better, despite only having been with the group for six months. He was smarter the others, smarter than Arthur in spite of his longevity and rank in the gang. Arthur knew it was a losing cause trying to get any sense of reasoning on Micah, because Micah never wanted to admit any shortcomings.

Sean abruptly snapped. As if he needed any more excuses to hate Micah Bell. He was tired of Micah acting so blameless, like he was above them all. Sean went over and gave him a hard shove, nearly knocking him against an abandoned wagon.

"You're an absolute fuckin' turd, you know?!" he exclaimed. The disgust was clear as day on his face. It wasn't like him to get this upset, but today could've been his last day on Earth, and Micah's attitude didn't help make it any better. "Always talkin' shite! Surprised we don't see any of it spewin' out of your ears at this point!"

Micah didn't fall down, but he used the wagon to brace himself as he fixed his taciturn eyes at Sean. He was rather amused by such a reaction. "Look at you, lil' spitfire, getting your panties in a bunch. It ain't the first time you've almost gotten killed, kid, so what's the problem this time?"

As relieved as Arthur was to have someone else go off on Micah, he knew they all needed to vamoose. Witnesses were always around. If they weren't among the dead, they were hiding in the buildings nearby, waiting for the coast to clear. If time was on their side, he would've cleaned Micah's clock and left him for the remaining Grays to deal with. Agreeing to anything and everything Dutch said without question was dangerous. Today's mess reminded him of how he regretted busting Micah out of Strawberry's jail on Dutch's orders. No, if he'd left Micah to the Grays, he'd gladly deal with whatever punishment Dutch dealt him so long as the son of a bitch was never seen again… but what was done, was done.

"Just shut up, you ass kissin' bastard," Arthur verbally threw at Micah as he mounted his horse. Then he informed the others to split up before making their way back to camp without being followed.

Micah chuckled darkly, clearly not affected by what Arthur said or Sean's outburst. Nothing could faze him. He didn't care about anybody but himself.

Sean ground his teeth as he prepared to mount his own steed. Micah wore a smarmy, unremorseful smile as he wordlessly rode off. The Irishman glared daggers at his retreating backside. What an absolute snake. He had no doubt that if his head had gotten blown clean off, Micah wouldn't have given two shits. Everyone else in their gang could get blasted away by gunfire, but so long as Micah was left unscathed? All the better for him.

"Only two upsides to being dead!" Sean hollered as Micah's form grew smaller and smaller in the distance. "I would no longer have to see your arseface or hear your obnoxious voice ever again!"

Bill rode up alongside Sean and gave him a hearty pat on the back before he took off. Sean breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't completely blame Bill for what happened, because Bill was Bill. While not the sharpest tool in the box, there were no evil intentions on the big man's part behind this trap that nearly got them all killed. But Micah and his conduct throughout all this and just about everything else since he joined up with their group?

"Just downright cold-blooded, much," Sean muttered as he finally made his own departure from Rhodes.