A Second Chance

Prologue

The sun was high in the sky when he woke up. He doubted he could have felt any worse had an entire herd of cattle walked all over him. How had this happened? How had he survived yet again? He was supposed to be dead… A dozen times over. Yet his heart still beat and his whole body ached and his lungs still rattled; making him cough violently enough that he even found the energy to roll over.

'How…' Arthur wheezed. 'am I…not…dead?'

The disappointment hurt as much as breathing and every breath was agony.

For a second he contemplated just lying there until death took pity on him and carried him off. Surely it could not take long? But then, seeing as he was already on his stomach, he figured he might as well get on with it. He wasn't sure where he was finding the strength, yet it was there nonetheless, just enough to keep him going. Well, he had always been a stubborn old goat.

Still, he suspected, maybe not as much of a goat as he needed to be to get down that damned rock in one piece. Not before winter, at least. Either way he had no choice but to try. He was living on borrowed time already so, if he died trying, it would be no real loss.

And to think he had given all of his things to John… All he owned… And his hat! Well, at least he got to keep a couple guns… Not that they would make the slightest difference as he dragged his practically dead body down hard ground and slippery slopes.

'Why?' he raged breathlessly, earning himself another agonizing coughing fit for his efforts. 'Why am I not dead?!'

XXX

Once he reached soft ground again, night was already falling, he sat at the bottom of a tree and stayed there. He had no strength left. Maybe now, he mused, maybe now he'd finally die… Then he coughed lightly, wheezing and cringing in pain, and closed his eyes.

XXX

He woke up to the early morning sunshine and a stranger bent over him. Had he been in better shape, Arthur might have felt surprised enough to shout or, much more likely, annoyed enough to put a bullet between the fellow's eyes.

'Are you all right, mister?' the man asked as Arthur tried and failed to hold back another cough.

'I'm fine.' His growl came out as more of a whine, forcing him to repeat himself. 'I'll be fine.'

'You don't look fine at all, mister. In fact, you look like you've taken quite a beating.'

Tell me something I don't know, Arthur thought and let out a chuckle that he immediately regretted, as it transformed into a series of coughs followed by more wheezing. God, the pain. Maybe he had died. Surely this was hell and he was already paying for his crimes?

'I'll be fine, mister.' He echoed after a moment.

'If you say so…'

But there was a decency in that man… A goodness that even a blind man would have been able to see, and Arthur knew he would be back sooner rather than later. Perhaps with help even. He wondered when he had become so lucky, or unlucky as it was.

XXX

Again he woke up; this time to the sounds of an approaching wagon. He could barely open his eyes. Now he knew the end was near. It had to be. There was just not an ounce of strength left in him.

'Sorry to bother you again, mister.' The same curious fellow was leaning over him suddenly. He must have dozed off between hearing the wagon and now. The stranger went on: 'But my German friends here thought they might know you.'

Arthur wanted to laugh. What the devil was going on with the world? Why did everyone want to help him out of the blue? And had the German folk not picked him up on the road once before? Weren't they all even by now? And couldn't they learn some damn English already? He could hear them talking hushed and urgently amongst themselves. It sounded a lot like they were making space for him on the wagon.

Oh, what do I care? He thought angrily. The truth was he had no way to do a thing about it. He was just sorry he'd be dying on these good people's hands…

Author's Notes: I know the idea of Arthur surviving after all that went on is simply ludicrous, but I was too in love with these characters when I finished the game to simply let them go. I apologize, before hand, for any inaccuracies you may find; I'm still due a second playthrough and any mistakes will hopefully be corrected then. Feel free to point any of them out to me in the meanwhile. Finally, I hope the British spelling of the occasional word does not take from the American soul of the story. Thanks for reading!