Chapter 8 - Family

The gang, now with General Shelley and the rescued Astorna, quickly mounts their horses and heads back to the camp. As you help Shelley onto his horse, he manages to say, "Thank you" his voice filled with gratitude. The ride back is tense but triumphant, with the sound of hooves on the dirt path echoing the thud of retreating footsteps from the fortress. The gang members, while weary from the battle, maintain a watchful eye on the surroundings, ensuring their escape goes unnoticed. Upon reaching the camp, you all dismount and assist Shelley off his horse gently. He's visibly in pain and weak, but his spirits seem to have lifted, a stark contrast to his earlier state.

"Bandidos, gather around," Lopez calls out, his authoritative voice cutting through the night air. The camp's atmosphere is a mix of relief and curiosity as the gang members crowd around, eager to hear the details of the successful rescue. Lopez's gaze lingers on Astorna for a moment before addressing the group. "We've brought back our friend, but we also have a new... guest," but "it's time to celebrate, don't you think?."

As General Shelley raises a bottle of whiskey with a toast, "Bandidos for life," the camp erupts in cheers and camaraderie. The tension of the night's rescue mission dissipates into the air as the gang members clink their bottles together. A bonfire roars to life, casting dancing shadows on their faces, and the sound of laughter and music fills the camp. The band members, including Hawk, Lopez, share tales of their adventures, their yellow clothing standing out like a beacon in the firelight. The rhythmic stomping of boots and the strumming of a guitar create an infectious energy that even the newcomer, Astorna, finds herself swaying to. The celebration is a much-needed respite from the chaos, allowing everyone to momentarily forget the battles they've faced and the mysteries that still lie ahead.

As the music picks up tempo, the camp transforms into a vibrant scene of merriment. The gang members, including Lopez, Hawk, and Goofy, throw themselves into the festivities. Some dance with wild abandon, others share jovial banter around the bonfire,The fire casts a warm glow on everyone's faces, highlighting the dirt and sweat from the battle. You, Raven, find yourself drawn into the dance, the rhythm of the music and the camaraderie of your fellow Bandidos lifting your spirits. goofy even teaches you a few of his signature dance moves, which you try to mimic, earning laughs from the group. Despite the weariness from the intense rescue mission, the celebration feels like a well-deserved release of tension.

As you continue to dance with the gang, your eyes catch a brief, almost imperceptible, flash in the direction of the trees at the camp's edge. You turn your head to look, but nothing seems out of place. The night is dark, the shadows from the bonfire playing tricks on your eyes. You shrug it off, assuming it was a figment of your imagination or a random spark from the fire. The celebration goes on, and the music and laughter drown out any further distractions. The moment quickly passes, and you refocus on the festivities, enjoying the camaraderie of your newfound friends.

"Hey, Raven," Goofy says, slapping you on the back as he takes a swig from his bottle of whiskey. "You're getting pretty good at this dance!" His words are slightly slurred, a testament to the amount of alcohol he's consumed. You can't help but laugh, feeling a warmth spread through you that's not entirely from the whiskey you've had. The dance continues, and you find yourself drawn into the heart of the group, surrounded by the yellow-clad band of outlaws.

You head towards the makeshift bar to grab another drink, the warmth of the bonfire at your back. The laughter and music continue around you, a stark contrast to the tension of the rescue mission. As you pour yourself a drink, you scan the crowd trying to remember who was missing from the dance. Your eyes sweep over the celebrating faces of the gang, but for some reason, you can't quite place the two absent members. You're about to ask someone when Sully comes up beside you, his breath heavy with whiskey. "What's bothering ya, Raven?" he asks, noticing your furrowed brow. You shake your head and smile, "It's nothing, just lost in thought." You take a deep breath and hand him the bottle, taking a swig before passing it back. "Here's to our victory," you say, trying to push aside the nagging feeling of someone missing.

Sully nods and takes a long swig before patting you on the shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "Don't worry too much, we've got each other's backs," he says with a knowing look. His words resonate, and you're reminded of the unbreakable bond you all share. The night goes on, the celebration reaching a crescendo with the gang members showing off their skills at knife throwing and target practice, the firelight glinting off their yellow garments. Astorna sits at the edge of the camp, a small smile playing on her lips as she watches the revelry, still seemingly overwhelmed by her new surroundings.

General Shelley, his yellow eyes glowing with the light of the bonfire, approaches you with a slightly wobbly gait. He looks exhausted but his smile is genuine as he offers you a flask of whiskey. "Good job out there, Raven," he says, his voice still strained but holding a hint of pride. "You've got the makings of a true Bandido." He takes a swig from the flask and passes it to you. "To new beginnings," he toasts, raising his voice slightly so the gang can hear. The gang members nearby raise their bottles in salute, their eyes on you.

You take a swig from the flask, feeling the burn of the alcohol down your throat, and look around at your friends. Despite the chaos of the night, the camaraderie is stronger than ever. You can't help but wonder about the two missing members, but the whiskey helps to dull the concern. The music reaches a crescendo, and the gang members start to form a circle around the bonfire, challenging each other to increasingly daring feats of agility and strength. Goofy, his mustache swaying with the beat, attempts a backflip, only to land face-first in the dirt, causing a roar of laughter from the crowd. Even Hawk, usually so serious, cracks a smile at the sight.

with the gang's spirits high and the fire burning low. As the flames die down, the laughter turns to stories of past adventures and whispers of legends and treasures. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and the sweet smell of roasting meat from the spit. You listen intently, feeling like you're a part of something much larger than yourself. It's a tale of friendship, loyalty, and the thrill of the open road that speaks to the very core of your soul.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves thundering in the distance pierces the night air, pulling you from your reverie. The gang's laughter dies down as heads swivel toward the source of the noise. Lopez, ever vigilant, jumps to his feet, his hand on his gun. "Everyone, stay alert," he warns, his eyes narrowed into the darkness.

As the thunderous hooves grow closer, the camp goes on high alert, with everyone reaching for their weapons. The silhouettes of two figures on horseback emerge from the dark, and soon you recognize General Laura and Rommy with marie. all there of them dismount, the gang members gather around them, their expressions a mix of relief and joy. Lopez steps forward, extending a hand to Laura. "Welcome back," he says with a firm grip. "We thought we'd lost you in Blackwater." Laura nods, her eyes scanning the group. "We had some trouble," she says tersely. "But we're back now" Rommy, with an axe slung over her shoulder, winks at Goofy, who grins back mischievously. They share an unspoken understanding, hinting at their shared history of unpredictable behavior. The tension in the air dissipates as the group embraces the newcomers, their yellow attire blending with the fire's glow.

Marie, the mysterious soldier with the psycho vibe, stands slightly apart from the group, her eyes scanning the camp. Her presence sends a shiver down your spine, but she doesn't say a word, maintaining an eerie silence. Laura notices your unease and gives you a knowing look, patting your shoulder gently. "Don't worry, Raven," she says. "Marie's bark is worse than her bite." The gang chuckles, and the tension eases further as they continue to catch up, sharing tales of their escapades since they'd been apart. Laura's Scottish accent rings out, telling a story of outsmarting a rival gang, and Rommy's laughter fills the air as she recounts a wild ride through the countryside.

The celebration stretches into the early hours of the morning, stories turning into whispers and eventually giving way to the soft crackling of the dying embers. As the fire fades, so too does the energy of the camp. the alcohol and adrenaline wearing off. Laura notices Astorna, who's been mostly silent through the night, and approaches her with a gentle smile. "You okay?" she asks, her voice a soothing balm in the quiet night. Astorna nods, still looking a bit lost. Laura sits beside her, sharing a piece of jerky and a few comforting words in French. The blonde girl visibly relaxes, her eyes shining with gratitude in the moonlight.

"Merci," Astorna murmurs, the first word she's spoken since the rescue. Laura nods and pats her shoulder. "You're one of us now, Astorna. The Bandidos take care of their own."

The two of them sit in companionable silence for a while, watching as the last few gang members stumble into their tents, the whiskey-fueled laughter slowly fading into snores. Raven, still feeling a bit of the alcohol's warmth, decides to join Laura and Astorna, sitting down on the other side of the fire. "What happened out there?" Raven asks, curiosity getting the better of them. Laura takes a deep breath before recounting their tale.

"It was a close call," Laura begins, her Scottish accent thick with fatigue. "We were separated during the score in Blackwater. Marie and I managed to escape through the sewers, but Rommy had taken a bad hit. We had to lay low for a bit, find her some help." She looks over at Rommy, who's now leaning against a wagon, cleaning her axe. "But she's a tough one. Took a bit of doctoring, but she's on the mend now."

Rommy grins, flashing a gold tooth in the firelight. "Couldn't leave you all to have all the fun without me," she says, winking.

"And what about you, Astorna?" Laura asks, turning her attention to the newcomer. "What's your story?"

Astorna looks down at her hands, fidgeting with the piece of jerky. "I... I don't know," she admits, her French accent thick. "I was just a prisoner. They had me in that cell, and... things are still so... confusing."

"Well, you're safe with us now," Laura reassures her, her voice gentle. "We'll figure it out together."

Astorna nods, taking a bite of the jerky, chewing thoughtfully. "Merci," she says again, looking up at Laura with wide eyes. "I... I don't know how to repay you all."

"Don't worry 'bout that," Sully says, stumbling over to the trio and plopping down beside them. "You're a Bandido now. We don't do things for payment; we do 'em 'cause we're family." He wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into the group. The gesture is awkward, but sincere.

SUMMARY^1: Laura and Rommy share their escape from Blackwater, explaining Rommy's injury and their survival through the sewers. Laura inquires about Astorna's background, but Astorna remains uncertain. Laura reassures Astorna of her newfound family within the Bandidos, emphasizing unity and protection, while Sully's gesture of inclusion solidifies their bond.

Astorna looks around at the faces of her newfound family, each one etched with their own unique blend of hardship and camaraderie. Despite the chaos of the night, she feels a strange sense of belonging. "I... I don't know if I'm ready for all of this," she admits softly.

Laura's hand squeezes hers reassuringly. "We've all had to adapt, Astorna. But we're here to help each other." She glances around the camp, her gaze lingering on the patchwork of tents. "You'll find your place, I promise."

The conversation lulls for a moment, the crackle of the fire the only sound. You look at the yellow bandana tied around your head, the symbol of your gang, and think about the path that led you here. It's a strange feeling, being a part of something so real in a world that was once just pixels on a screen. But as you gaze into the fire, the warmth of the flames and the weight of the whiskey, you realize that this is where you're meant to be.

Shelley, his eyes still glowing faintly, stumbles over to Raven, a wide grin plastered on his face. He's clearly had too much to drink, but his spirits are high. "Raven," he slurs, leaning heavily on your shoulder. "I just... wanted to say, you know, good job back there. You've got potential." His speech is slightly incoherent, and you can smell the whiskey on his breath. Goofy, noticing the commotion, saunters over, his rifle slung over his back. He claps a hand on Shelley's shoulder, a twinkle in his eye. "C'mon, shelley," he says, his voice thick with humor. "Let the new recruit breathe. We've got a whole camp to celebrate with!"

You laugh good-naturedly, pushing Shelley gently away. "I think you've had enough, General," you say, the formality feeling a bit out of place given the situation. He stumbles slightly before catching himself, a sheepish look crossing his face. "Ah, yes, yes, I suppose I have," he agrees, taking another swig from his flask. "But you," he says, pointing at you with a shaky finger. "You're a natural. I can feel it in me bones."

Shelley's eyes light up with pride, and he throws his arm around Raven's shoulders, nearly knocking them off balance. "You're one of us now, lad!" he exclaims, his speech still slurred. "A true Bandido!" His grip tightens for a moment before he releases you, stumbling backward slightly. Goofy laughs, slapping Shelley on the back. "Alright, alright, let's not get too mushy," he says, a playful grin on his face. "But he's right, Raven. You've got a knack for this outlaw business." The two of them exchange

Marie approaches the trio with a smile, extending a hand to Raven. "Welcome to the Bandidos," she says, her voice a low purr. "I've heard good things about you." She looks Raven up and down, her gaze lingering on the patched eye. "And I see you've already got a battle scar to show for it." The tension from earlier is gone, replaced with a sense of camaraderie. Laura chuckles, and even Astorna cracks a smile.

As Shelley suddenly screams "Devil" and grabs your hand, your heart races. He pulls you with surprising strength for a man in his inebriated state, and you find yourself stumbling along with him. The camp falls into a moment of shocked silence before bursting into laughter, assuming it's just another one of Shelley's antics. Goofy and Rommy exchange puzzled looks, while Laura and sully watch with amusement. The fire casts a flickering light on your panicked expression, but Shelley seems genuinely terrified. He drags you toward the edge of the camp, your feet kicking up dirt and small rocks as you struggle to keep up. Once you're clear of the campfire's light, he stops and releases you, panting heavily. His glowing eyes dart around the darkness, searching for something unseen. "You've got to believe me," he whispers urgently, his hand still trembling. "marie is deivll" His words hang heavy in the air, the celebration forgotten. The night's festivities have turned into a tense stand-off, and the atmosphere shifts dramatically.

You look over at Marie, who's now walking toward you with a bemused expression, the smile never leaving her lips. "Shelley, are you okay?" you ask, your voice wavering slightly. "What are you talking about?" you say.

As Shelley tries to explain, Marie seems to appear out of the shadows, her smile unwavering despite the tension. She glides towards you and Shelley, moving with an unsettling grace that matches the eerie silence of the night. Before you can react, she reaches out and taps Shelley playfully on the shoulder, causing him to yelp and stumble into a nearby tree, knocking his hat off. His glowing eyes dart back and forth in fear, and he falls to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head. You can't help but feel a chill run down your spine as Marie laughs softly, the sound as sweet as a siren's song. She crouches down next to him, her smile never fading. "Don't believe him," she says, her voice a melodious purr. "Shelley's had one too many tonight." She looks up at you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Someone should take him to bed," she suggests, nudging Shelley's limp body with her foot.

As you help the stumbling Shelley to his feet, he starts to laugh, his earlier terror seemingly forgotten. "I'll expose you, Marie!" he shouts with a slur, pointing at her. Marie's smile widens, and she claps her hands together with a laugh that's almost too cheerful for the situation. "Oh, Shelley," she says, standing up and brushing off her skirt. "You and your wild imagination." She takes a step back, giving you a knowing look. "Why don't you help him to his tent, Raven?" she suggests sweetly. "He's had quite the evening." The camp has gone quiet, the only sounds the occasional snicker from a nearby tent and the distant howl of a coyote. You take Shelley's arm, supporting his weight as you guide him back to the relative safety of his tent. He mumbles incoherently, still clutching his flask. The others watch you go, the laughter and music of the night fading into a cautious silence.

Once inside the tent, you lay Shelley down on his bedroll, his head lolling to one side. He looks up at you, his eyes still glowing faintly. "You've got to believe me," he whispers, his voice urgent. "She's... she's not what she seems." His grip on your hand tightens.

You sit beside him, stroking his forehead to soothe him. "It's alright, General," you murmur. "You're safe now." His eyes close, and his breathing slowly evens out as sleep takes him. You can't shake the feeling of unease, though. Was Shelley just drunk, or is there something more to what he said? You decide to keep an eye on Marie, just in case.

As you exit the tent, you're met with curious glances from the rest of the gang. Laura looks concerned, while Goofy seems more amused. "Is he okay?" Laura asks, stepping closer. You nod, tucking your chin into your chest. "Yeah, just had a bit too much to drink."

The camp slowly returns to its previous state of merriment, the music and laughter swelling once more. But the incident has left a palpable tension in the air, one that's hard to ignore. You sit by the fire, watching the flames dance and flicker, lost in thought.

Lopez, the ever-watchful leader of the Bandidos, emerges from the shadows, his yellow-trimmed bandana and shirt a stark contrast to the night. He claps his hands together, effectively silencing the camp's buzzing conversations. "Alright, amigos," he says, his voice a mix of authority and exhaustion. "We've got a big day ahead of us. We ride to Tumbleweed tomorrow. Get some rest." He looks at you, Raven, with a knowing smile. "We've got more adventures to come, and we'll need our strength." The camp slowly starts to disperse, the gang members retreating to their tents, some with a nod to you,The fire burns lower, casting long shadows across the camp.

You head back to your tent, the canvas flaps fluttering in the cool night breeze. The sounds of the camp gradually fade as you enter, the floor littered with your gear from earlier. You light a small candle, the flame flickering and throwing shadows on the tent walls. You think about Pure and Juan, the two members of the gang you left behind in Honata's village. Worry etches lines on your forehead as you ponder their safety and well-being. The quiet inside the tent is a stark contrast to the noisy camp outside. You sit on your bedroll, the fabric rough under your fingers. The fire outside casts a warm glow through the fabric, reminding you of the bonfire and the camaraderie you shared just moments ago. Despite the fatigue tugging at your eyes, your mind races with thoughts of tomorrow's journey to Tumbleweed and the responsibilities that come with being a part of the Bandidos.