Opportunity

      “If they don’t want me then fuck ‘em!”

           “But we have-”

           “Fuck. ‘Em. Alright?”

           They had been wandering for days in the grassy hills. No house, no horse, no gang of gunslingers to run with. It was lonely yet crowded. Empty yet full. Hungry yet food was plenty.

           Marceline and Dutch have never stayed in one place. They never have, and never will. All they needed was each other and each other was what they needed. “Are we running?” Dutch asked.

           “No?”

           “What do you mean ‘No’?”

           “I mean. No. No we ain’t. We aren’t running. Those bastards are running from us!” Marceline boasted.

           Dutch grunted and kept following his sister’s lead. A big guy following his tiny little sister. His footsteps heavy, hat full of sweat, gun belt digging into the skin.

           Marceline smacked her fist into her palm. “All we need, is some money. Alright? We’re gonna find another town, and you’re goin’ to work. Alright?”

           “What if I don’t wanna?” Dutch asked.

           She stopped in place and smacked her big brother’s chubby belly. “I meant gambling! The one thing you’re good at! Fuckin’ dummy.”

           “Well fuck you too!”

           They huffed at each other and kept moving forwards. They passed by a distant herd of pronghorns grazing. They passed by birds hopping around on rocks. Rabbits ran by and the stray buck watched them with interest.

           “Ya know if it weren’t for you flirting with every damn woman you see we wouldn’t be out here,” Dutch spat.

           “How was I supposed to know she’d go cryin’ to her daddy? Besides she was a whore,” she justified.

           Another grunt, more shuffling steps, and the sun continued to beat down on them. More hills they passed, up and down they went. Never looking back. There was no ‘back’ to look towards. Only one way, only forward. As it has always been. When the hills started to flatten out, and the shrubs turned to trees, Marceline mentally let out a sigh of relief, with Dutch actually sighing in relief.

           But they kept moving, kept walking. Even as the sun started to go down and the night animals sang the moons song. Guns were unholstered, lanterns lit, paces slowed. They only stopped to rest. Climbing into trees like squirrels, one taking watch while the other slept. Every two hours, they would switch. Every two hours until the sun rose.

           They ate what little rations they had and begun their journey once again. Only now the suns light was obscured by trees. But that didn’t make the sight any less beautiful. They suns rays cutting through the holes between the leaves like divine light. As if the lord was saying that they would be okay. As if the lord was saying, “It will be alright my children, here is my light.”

           “Are you sure there’s a town this way?” Dutch asked.

           “Oh Dutch, always so doubtful.” Marceline patted his big arms. “I saw the map.”

           “But we don’t have the map,” he pointed out.

           “Because I got a good memory! You’ll see! It’s this way!” She pointed in the same direction they’ve been following for days.

           Dutch didn’t question it, and kept following his sisters lead. He always followed her lead. He always had and always will. Nothing will sperate them, nothing ever had. Not when their parents died. Not when they stole from their grandfather. Not when she decided to steal his horses and run away. Not when he caught her kissing a girl behind a general store. And certainly not now. Not ever.

           “I’m useful right?”

           Marceline didn’t look back, just kept moving forwards. “Yeah, why?”

           “Ya think they would’ve kept us if I did better?”

           The little sister spun around but kept moving, walking backwards. She was always like this, always had to be moving. “You did good. They were just a bunch of dipshits who couldn’t tell their mouth from their asshole.”

           “You curse too much.”

           “Don’t be like me, you can’t get away with shit like I can.”

           “But we got chased out of town because of you.”

           “They would’ve killed us if you did it.”

           “Why can’t I do what you do?”

           “Because I won’t let ya.” Marceline crossed her arms and stepped around a rock while walking backwards. “You’re too good to be like me, Dutch. Too good for anyone really.”

           “Bah, you’re lyin’.”

           “But I ain’t. You were always the nice one, the one who helped grandfather move shit and you were good with guns. And you never cheat!”

           “But you’re good with people. I hate talkin’ to people. Besides you get all the ladies and can cook. You know how to tame horses and I can barely get a puss to like me. I can’t do any of that.”

           “Whatever, I get it. We want to be more like one another. Can we keep moving please? I wanna sleep in a bed for once-”

           A shout cut through the trees. “MY HORSE! GOD DAMNIT!”

           The siblings stopped and abruptly turned to see a cream-colored horse barrel through the trees. Dutch ducked out of way, tripping into the bushes. Marceline steeled her nerves and swiftly climbed a tree, waiting for the horse to come by. She waited, saw the horse gallop by, and in a frankly reckless move, jumped onto the horse’s saddle.

           It began to try and buck her off, Marceline soothingly shouting curses to the animal. Gripping the reigns, she tried to guide the horse away from trees, though they both got scrapped a few times. When the horse calmed down the little sister patted the creature’s neck. “Jesus Christ…”

           Dutch got out from the bushes and swiftly searched the saddle bags for food. Marceline continued to calm the horse and catch her breath. But they both froze when they heard footsteps approach, and a man appear in the distance. Dutch saw an enemy, quickly robbing this man’s saddle bags before getting ready to fight. But Marceline patted her brother’s head. She saw an opportunity.