Chapter Text
Dutch rather liked these traveling carnivals.
Not for the carnivals themselves. No, he knew perfectly well that he was among a different type of outlaw when he perused the stalls and games. He knew that most of the folks here rigged their games, sold fake treasures, or told whatever outlandish tales they could to sell people on paying to see a man in a costume.
The real reason why he liked the carnivals was because with so much going on, people were often distracted. And what was a distracted person if not a perfect target for pickpockets?
Dutch’s hands moved smoothly, having decades of practice, and he hit his targets before they even knew of his presence. Jewelry, wallets, watches, they all made their way into Dutch’s own hidden pockets. It was all too easy.
A few others were there with him. Micah, Arthur, Hosea, Trelawny, and John had come with him. Dutch had given the order to not start any trouble. Take what you could, but stay your hand... unless you had no choice. And if they were all as talented as he believed, that wouldn’t be a problem.
A fight suddenly broke out at one of the game booths. No doubt someone had figured out that the game was rigged and was not pleased in the slightest. Dutch moved back a bit to keep his distance, but people were rushing to get away all around him. Someone bumped into him and pushed him back into a tent.
Dutch caught himself on the table within the tent and paused to listen to a few more people run either towards or away from the fight, he could hear angry and panicked shouting, and shook his head.
He brushed the front of his vest off and began to leave. He had only just started moving the tent flap aside when he noticed something. The table that he had caught himself on held a massive crystal ball in the center, but his attention was on something next to it.
It was a beautiful jeweled bracelet.
Dutch stepped closer and picked the bracelet up. Years of dealing with real and fake gems had sharpened his eye, and he carefully looked it over. It was real. These were real sapphires and diamonds and rubies-
“Can I help you?”
Dutch started and whirled around to see a woman sitting at the table. His eyes narrowed briefly in confusion. He could have sworn the tent had been empty...
“Oh, pardon me, Ma’am,” he gave his most charming smile. “I was pushed into here by that tussle outside and knocked your bracelet off the table. I was just making sure it didn’t get damaged in the fall.”
He set the bracelet back down and mentally cursed. That piece would have gotten him a handsome payout with the local Fence. Still, he had plenty in his pockets already. Maybe he could come back and try again...
“Oh,” the woman smiled. “How kind of you.”
Dutch took a moment to really get a look at the woman. She seemed to be on the last leg of her youth. Her hair was dark as the night sky, but he could see the beginnings of wrinkles around her eyes. She was dressed in dark shades of purple and blue and her shawl was a bright green.
He would have seen this woman if she had really been sitting there the whole time...
“Anyways,” he shook his head. “You have a nice night, Ma’am.”
He turned to leave.
“Didn’t you want my services?” the woman asked.
Services? Dutch looked back at the woman, curious at her words. The woman was digging through one of the boxes on her table, heavily lined eyes boring into Dutch.
“I can offer you a glimpse into the future,” she said.
Ah... not the services Dutch had been thinking about. She was a fortune teller.
“It’s the oldest trick in the book,” his friend Trelawny had once told him. “I’ve even dabbled in it myself. Technically, anyone can do it, but there’s a particular method that the good ones use to keep bringing in customers. It’s all about reading people. Picking up on subtle clues and using them to weave your narrative. Just make sure you say something they want to hear. No one wants an ill-omened future...”
The woman lit a cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke in Dutch’s direction.
“A glimpse into the future?” Dutch asked. “How much will that cost me?”
The woman tilted her head slightly.
“Special offer,” she said. “It will cost you nothing. But I must warn you... this is not for the faint of heart. It takes true courage to pierce the veil of the unknown. And you may not like what you see...”
Well... now Dutch was curious. He knew that she’d probably spout some nonsense and claim it was his future, but Trelawny’s words stuck with him. Was she one of the good ones? Would she be able to read Dutch?
“Well... who am I to pass up an offer like that?” Dutch finally said as he sat down at the table.
The woman turned away and struck another match to light a few nearby sticks. An earthy scent began to spread through the tent, and Dutch gave a slight cough.
“Who am I taking on this journey?” the woman asked.
“Hoagy Macintosh,” Dutch’s alias slid out smoothly.
“You don’t sound Scottish?” the woman smiled as if Dutch had told a joke.
“The Scottish was silent in my childhood,” Dutch shrugged.
“I have never known a silent Scot!” The woman laughed. “Ah... well, I am Maggie.”
Maggie? Usually fortune tellers gave exotic names. Maybe this one was new.
Maggie hummed softly as she shuffled a deck of cards. Again, Dutch remembered Trelawny speaking about cards like these.
“They all have different meanings,” he’d said. “And their position can change those meanings. But since the average man doesn’t know The World from The Lovers, some don’t bother learning them and just use them for show. They’ll just shuffle and flip a few cards over and then ooh and ah over them.”
“The cards are silent,” Maggie finally said as she set the cards aside. “And your hands are too covered in blood for me to read your palm...”
Dutch narrowed his eyes. What did she say...?
“Look then within the crystal,” Maggie said, setting her hands on either side of the crystal ball in front of her. “Look and see your future.”
Dutch couldn’t help but look. He looked... and he could not look away. The tent darkened around him, and the scent of the incense clogged his nose. He looked... and he saw.
He saw a series of images that swirled around him at a dizzying rate. He saw his camp, he saw his men, he saw himself. Everything seemed normal at first, but then his people started to die one by one. He saw Sean taken out by a sniper. He saw Lenny gunned down on a roof. He saw Hosea shot in a street. He saw his own Molly murdered by Grimshaw and then Grimshaw herself met her own end.
He saw Arthur... his dear Arthur...alone on a mountain and choking on his own blood.
Everything went dark, and then Dutch was being grabbed. The decaying people of his camp were grabbing at him, wailing and screaming and roaring. They were screaming in anger or terror, begging for help, begging for a reason as to why he let them die. Dutch struggled and pushed them away, clenching his eyes shut and then opening them.
He saw himself facing down John. He gave John one last warning before he was falling... falling...
Dutch gasped for breath as he suddenly found himself back in the tent. His head was pounding and his stomach rolled with nausea, which the incense was not helping. He had tears in his eyes and his face was pale with horror.
Maggie was nearby. She was holding a magnifying glass up to one of the watches that Dutch had stolen. She glanced at him and gave a smile that struck fear into Dutch’s heart.
“You’re back,” she said. “You were gone for a while. Are you satisfied with your future, Dutch van der Linde?”
Dutch didn’t even bother asking how she knew his name. The chair toppled over as he quickly got up and all but ran from the tent. He needed to get away. He needed to get away now!
Everything around him was hazy and muffled as he stumbled away. He needed to get to his horse. The Count was nearby, he knew it. He’d stashed him him nearby in case anyone had caught him.
“-utch? Dutch!”
Dutch nearly collapsed against his horse’s side, and his hands shook has he unhitched him.
“Dutch!”
Hands grabbed him and turned him around. He recognized them, but he wished he didn’t.
Arthur was steadily bleeding from his mouth, his eyes sunken and his skin a pale grey. Hosea’s eyes were full of maggots and his skin was half rotted. A bullet hole stood out on his chest. And John... oh John looked just like he had on that mountain. His eyes were full of anger and hate, and his gun was in his hand.
“No!” Dutch pushed them away. “Get... get away! Get away from me, you’re dead!”
He pulled himself up onto his horse and spurred him into action. He barely managed to keep himself upright as he rode away.
But even as he did so, he could still see them. He could still see them dying, he could still see John hunting him down. He could still see his own end...
He rode until he fell from his saddle and passed out on the ground.