Rachel could have cried when she first saw Pricetown. First from relief when she saw it from the distance, and then up close when she saw what a ghost town it was. If a town was what you could call it.

After two days, the relentless desert was finally starting to fall behind them. Rachel was surprised she could even still keep herself upright. She could still taste the ash in her mouth from eating nothing but the scraps that the man Roland had been pursuing had left behind. Roland still hadn't told her who he was. But neither had he questioned her about Pennywise much to Rachel's relief. She still had yet to mention him to her new traveling companion and was hoping against hope to keep it that way for as long as she could manage.

The dry wind continued to whistle in Rachel's ears. And she was sure her face was becoming chapped. She stumbled. She had been doing that a lot lately. Roland shot her a worried look. Rachel put her hand over her stomach as another bout of nausea rose up in her. She needed food, blood, something. As they neared the first house, Rachel heard a braying sound. They stopped.

"I hear a donkey," Rachel said.

"I hear it too," said Roland. "We need to find where it's at. Ask if we can buy it."

The trudged forward. Ghost town indeed. Rachel heard an echoing pounding sound, like someone was beating a hammer. Sure enough, it was a bedraggled man beating on a piece of tin that was coming loose off the top of a shed. She saw a woman sitting on a porch in a rocking chair shucking corn. Rachel's mouth started watering. She licked her lips. It took all her willpower not to go snatch an ear from the woman. Finally they came to the house that had the mule. There were two scraggly horses as well. They both had dirt caked on their sides and haunches. Their backs twitched as a small cloud of flies kept landing on them. Rachel felt bad for them.

How can anyone survive in a town like this, much less livestock? she wondered.

A little further down the road was what appeared to be either a meager general store or a bar. Maybe it was both. Roland approached the house with the mule, Rachel at his side. The steps up to the porch creaked.

"Let me do the talking," said Roland. "And you might want to stand behind me."

Rachel frowned. "Why?"

"Just trust me."

She did as he asked. Roland knocked on the door. The wind whistled around Rachel.

Raaachel. Raaachel.

Rachel glanced to the left. Was that her name she had just heard?

Raaaaaachel.

She whipped around. And then she was it. A red balloon in the middle of the street. Her heart started pounding. He was here. Pennywise was here.

She bounded off the porch into the middle of the street, searching around frantically.

"Rachel?"

She ignored the gunslinger. Pennywise was still alive. The dust continued to blow around her. It was flying up in the air now. Rachel turned and turned. She wanted to cry out to him, but her voice seemed to be stuck in her throat. And then she stopped. Just behind the back corner of a house, she saw him. And to her surprise, there was no anger. There was no resentment. All there was, was joy.

Rachel stood frozen, staring at her mate. Wind blew more dust between them, but there was no that he was definitely there. Should she go to him? What would she tell him, now that he was actually before her?

It didn't matter. Not anymore. Before she could take three steps, something large slammed into her from behind. Strong arms wrapped around her and lifted her off the ground, pulling her with him. She opened her mouth to scream, but her breath came out in a whoosh.

A stagecoach thundered past her. She stared after it in shock. Roland filled her vision. He placed his hand firmly on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

Rachel pointed towards where Pennywise was. "I…"

"Didn't you see the coach coming?"

Rachel glanced back, but Pennywise was gone. So was the balloon. Had she imagined things? Was the desert sun getting to her?

"Rachel?" Roland waved his hand in front of her face and she finally met his gaze. "Did you see something?"

"I think I…"

Should she tell him? She sighed wearily. If Pennywise had been there, she would definitely run into him again.

She shook her head softly. "Nothing. It's nothing. Must just be the heat."

"Well let's get you inside," Roland said softly.

Rachel felt a twinge of guilt. Roland had been so good to her these last couple of days, made sure she was fed, even though the pickings had been meager. How would he react when he found out about Pennywise, about what he was?

She let Roland lead her back to the house. She took one final glance around where she had seen the balloon. Nothing.

Roland knocked on the door. No one came. He knocked a second time. Rachel could hear footsteps inside, and finally the door came open with a squeak. A man's head poked out. He had short, thin hair and a milky eye.

"What ye want?" the man asked.

"We are weary travelers just come across the Mohaine. We hope to buy a mule…and some food if you can spare any."

The man's eyes traveled up and down Rachel's body. He idly scratched his thin belly.

"Come in. I'll see what kind of business I can do with ye."

The door opened the rest of the way. Roland entered first, followed by a wary Rachel. She didn't like how the man had looked at her. But she didn't worry. For sure Roland would let no harm come to her. Not that she wouldn't be able to defend herself. The man couldn't have weighed much more than her. And he didn't have Pennywise's blood in him.

The man's meager hovel had a rich, meaty smell to it. Rachel scrunched up her face. Her stomach roiled. She wanted to cover her nose with her mouth, but didn't want to appear rude. Once they were all inside, the man turned to face them.

"So what can I do ye for? Ye say you want ma mule? Gonna have to pay for him."

Roland gave a nod. "Yes I am aware."

The man gave a nod towards Rachel. "The girl need to eat? I got some fresh beans a'cookin'." The man went to an old cast iron stove. A small pot bubbled on top of it.

"We don't want to take more than you can give."

The man opened a cabinet and pulled out a small wooden bowl. "Nonsense. A girl's gotta eat. 'Specially one in her condition."

Rachel blinked a couple of times. She glanced down at her flat stomach. Her condition? She was only six weeks along. There was no way the man knew. Unless he meant her appearance. Did she really look that bad? She decided to play it off with a laugh.

"Yes I supposed I do look a little haggard. This is the desert after all." She shrugged.

The man still had his back to them. He was spooning some beans into the bowl. "Yes it is time we get a little blood in ye."

Rachel's smile fell. "Blood?"

The man turned. "Bean. I said beans. What'd ye think I said?" He grabbed a spoon and handed the bowl to Rachel who stood staring at him with her mouth agape.

"I…nothing. I must have misheard you. Thanks."

She took a spoonful of beans. They looked fairly hard still. But food was food. She blew it off so as not to burn her mouth.

"So what ye goin' for, gunslinger, with this young lady in tow?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes. This man sure was taking a good bit of interest in her.

"Heading to Tull. It's personal business."

"Ahh. Eat yer beans, kitten, so we can talk." The man tilted his chin towards Rachel, a sly grin on his mouth.

He led Roland towards a table and pulled out a chair. Rachel stared after him with her spoon halfway to her mouth, which was gaping wide open. Kitten? She slowly placed the spoon back into the bowl. She swallowed.

Pennywise. It had to be Pennywise. But how? Was this Pennywise himself or had he possessed this man? And if it really was Pennywise, was the real man dead, perhaps behind his house somewhere?

Rachel spotted a rickety stool next to the door and perched herself on it. The man told her to eat. Even if he wasn't Pennywise, she was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She took a bite of her beans and tried not to make a face. They were still half hard. But she ate with gusto. The man spoke to Roland about the mule. Roland reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. He held it up for the man to see. The man's eyes grew wide. He leaned forward.

"Well, well, well. Is that real?" He grabbed the coin from Roland.

"Yes."

Rachel eyed the coin. It looked suspiciously like gold.

"I uh... I don't have the change for this."

Roland leaned forward as well. He rubbed his jaw. "Not expecting it. Do we have a deal?"

The man gave a nod. "Aye. A deal indeed. The mule is yours."

Roland stood. "Good. Do you have any extra crop we can take as well? Some corn?"

The other man stood. "Well now, that might cost extra."

Rachel placed her spoon back in her bowl with a clatter. "What? He already paid you extra. And you gave me food without question."

"Little ladies like you need to eat," the man told her. He squinted one eye at her. "You've got a long journey ahead of you, ain't ye?"

Rachel glanced over sheepishly at Roland. Time for her to test her Pennywise theory.

"Maybe we shouldn't take the mule after all," she told the man in an authorative voice. "I'm sure we'll be fine."

She stalked across the room.

"Well now I never said-"

"I know what you said," Rachel spat as she plopped her bowl on the table between the man and Roland. "You just said that his coin was more than enough and now you want extra." She crossed her arms across her chest. "Sounds like you're trying to swindle us."

The man nodded slowly at her, a sly grin playing across his mouth which he now revealed to be full of rotten teeth.

"Spoken like a true queen," he said admiringly.

Rachel scowled at the man as he confirmed her suspicions.

"A queen?" She decided to play along. "Tell me, what queen must be forced to live on ashy campfire remains?"

"Times will get better fer ye, kitten."

Rachel shook her head at her mate angrily. "Someone promised me that a long time ago. And now I'm in Hell because of it."

She tried to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm.

Roland jolted forward. "What are you-"

Rachel stared at the man with a look of shock. He stared at her with a glazed look in his eyes.

"Blood is life out here. You are life out here."

Rachel tried to pull away from him. And then she smelled it.

Blood.

She glanced down as the man pulled his other hand up. He had a knife in it. Blood dripped from his palm.

Rachel's mouth fell open and she pulled harder. "Penny, please," she whispered.

"Let her go," Roland growled.

The man clamped down on her arm harder. "Blood is life. Stay true to who you are..." he leaned over towards her, "or die."

Rachel stared at him in horror. She's had enough. Pennywise or not there was no way she was going to down his blood in front of Roland. Anger started to well up in her. Anger at Pennywise for getting her stuck in this Hell hole.

She grabbed her bowl of beans and mashed it against his face. He let her go with a hiss and she took off running. She ran out the door and stopped when she got on the porch. The smell of blood still lingered in her nostrils.

"Fuck."

She took a shaky breath. Her eyes. Roland would see her eyes. She knew what they would look like. She shakily walked around the porch. There had to be something. And then you saw it. A bucket near the porch. It was half full of water. Rachel jumped down. First she splashed her face. The water was lukewarm. She splashed it again. And then she stared down and waited for the water to calm down.

"No, no, no," she said when she saw her reflection.

Her eyes were gold.

"Fuck me."

Rachel hit the rim of the bucket, making the water slosh around. Roland would have questions. And she would have to answer them. One way or another. She owed him that much.

But would her new comrade be able to handle the truth? That her husband was a monster.

And so was she.