I was in Escalera, a small settlement in Mexico. It's a town built along a hill, with a heavy presence from the Mexican army. Soon after arriving in town, I'd heard about tensions between the army and the civilians. Many felt that the army was tyrannical, taking advantage of the citizens rather than protecting them.
As I neared the edge of town at the bottom of the hill, I heard a woman screaming. Not a Hollywood scream, but a horrifying, painful wailing. I'd heard the sound a few times before in towns back across the river in America. It generally only meant one thing: a woman was being assaulted, and she was within maybe ten seconds of being stabbed to death unless I did something to stop it. (The "woman being stabbed" scenario is one of the common canned events that can occur in a town in RDR)
I ran in the direction of the screaming, but didn't see the woman nearby.
More screaming. I kept moving up the hill.
More screaming. At this point, I thought, it had to be over. I must have been too late. But the screaming continued, so I kept moving.
Eventually, I reached the top of the hill, and saw the woman in the arms of a man. I started to draw my gun, but stopped when I realized the woman wasn't being attacked. She was being held back. Further ahead, inside a courtyard, a man was standing before a firing squad. He was about to be executed by the Mexican army. The woman was desperately trying to reach him, arms outstretched, her voice filled with pain. What I knew about the army, combined with the woman's wailing, told me that this had to be wrong: that whatever this man did, it likely wasn't worth his execution.
I wasn't sure what to do. Two soldiers stood with guns drawn on the man, ready to fire. Two more stood at either side of the gate to the courtyard. One held the woman back. Five Army soldiers, all of whom I could perhaps take out with my Dead Eye rapid-fire ability. But, I thought, should I? These weren't mere criminals, like the gang that kidnapped Bonnie MacFarlane. These soldiers represented the law of the land. Who was I to kill five of them in order to save just one man who I knew essentially nothing about? And then what would I do? The army was all over Escalera. If I killed five of them, I would have to turn around, jump on my horse, and run away—probably killing more soldiers to make my escape. Back on the American side of the border, I never would have even considered something like that. I always tried my best to do the right thing, including supporting law enforcement, not gunning them down. On a purely cognitive level, intervening seemed like a bad decision.
But no, I thought—I felt—this doesn't feel right. I should stop this.
This entire back-and-forth in my mind probably took all of five seconds. I decided that yes, I would intervene. A split second later, the soldiers fired.
The prisoner fell to the ground; the soldier let the woman go. The woman stopped screaming and ran into the courtyard, where she knelt at the man's body and held him quietly.
I stopped and stared at the scene for a long time afterward. No one paid me any mind. As far as the soldiers or the woman were concerned, I might as well have not existed. I was free to stand and watch and regret my inaction.
The fact that I wasn't directly involved in what happened was the worst part of it all. Unlike nearly every other situation in every other video game—including most of Red Dead Redemption—I wasn't the center of this universe. I didn't get to consciously decide whether that man lived or died. The event didn't exist explicitly for my benefit. I was just a random nobody walking through a terrifying world where people are killed while their loved ones look on helplessly and cry.
There wasn't even a proper lesson to take from it. No moment of "ah, now I understand what I should have done, and what I should do in the future." I just have to live now with never knowing.
It felt real in a way that made me uncomfortable... and was that the point all along? Is the way this event affected me a reflection of the designers' dramatic intent, or simply a reflection of me? Does it matter? There aren't any hard, fast rules in art, after all.
I don't have any answers, but this tiny scene in a giant game is something I'm going to remember for a long time.
