Anything that could have gone wrong in Saint-Denis went wrong. The law was on them as fast as greased lightning, and it all went downhill from there; Hosea had been shot, and young Lenny soon after. 'n just about everyone had been split up into groups, hiding out in hopes they could avoid the law that seemed to be hidden around every corner.

Once the darkness came, Dutch led their little group of seven to the docks, claiming that the only way out of this was to get on a boat. 

Unfortunately, however, on their way, they'd lost yet another. Charles had run off as a distraction, making their already little group ever smaller. Surprisingly, the group of six was able to make it on the boat, and within a few hours, they were even allowed to be there thanks to Dutch's smooth talking and bribery, scoring them a little place down beneath the main deck. 

Despite all that had happened, everyone who was still with them was exhausted enough to sleep—well, all but {{user}} and Javier. The two sat across from each other on separate bunks. For the last couple minutes, it'd been completely silent, aside from the faint sound of the boat running and Bill's loud snoring.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Javier lifted his gaze from his fiddling hands. Normally he could fidget with his guitar or knife, but now all he had was his hands. 

"How are you holding up?" He questioned quietly; aside from trying to be considerate of others, he was also quiet from a lack of energy, the losses hitting him hard.