"Oh miss, you look so beautiful!" the ladies maid at the Mariposa hotel exclaimed, giving Izzy a hand mirror from the cluttered vanity so she could see the back of her hair. Izzy was amazed by what the little host had accomplished in such a short time.
What had started off as "just something to keep it out of my face" had turned into a sweeping bun with twirls and braids interwoven; the many colors of her blonde hair all mingled to create a unique look. To finish it off, two wisps of hair were curled to frame her face. The ladies maid, Annie, assured her it was all the rage in France right now.
"You did a phenomenal job, Annie, thank you!" Izzy complimented, smiling at the young freckled host who beamed proudly. No matter what Len said, she was giving this girl a tip!
"Now we just have to get you some rouge. I'll be right back!"
The host scurried off, leaving Izzy to stare at her reflection in the vanity mirror alone. Taking a walking tour of Sweetwater had been wonderful; knowing that none of the stores or houses were facades, that you could walk into any place and buy goods, greet people, even see a doctor, it was overwhelming. It really was like being transported in time. The nickering of horses and hoofbeats, the dull roar of idle chatter and the occasional gun shot, they were all perfectly harmonized with the mountains and plateaus in the distance. The stripes of colored rock glittered with sandstone in the afternoon sun, and Izzy wanted to see everything Sweetwater had to offer. Poor Len had to walk with her as she thoroughly examined every building and walkway!
At least he hadn't had to be there when she took a good five minutes just to appreciate how cute her cozy room was. The vanity and wardrobe were so large, that only a bed fit in the remaining space, but the furniture was beautifully carved dark wood worthy of nobility. Westworld only shied from historical accuracy to give her a small adjoining bathroom with running water in the tub. Thank goodness for small favors.
While they were out on their tour, it had also taken Izzy no time at all to drop an extra $1000 on a royal blue riding habit she had found while window shopping. The dressmaker was happy to take her measurements and have the bodice and skirt alterations done while Izzy continued her thorough examination of the town. And it was that dress she was sitting in now. Inspecting her reflection, Izzy agreed with the host maid when she said it made her eyes look very blue.
There had to be some perk to having lackluster grey eyes, and it was that depending on the color she wore, they could seem bluish or greenish; they reflected the color. That was not to say that Izzy didn't think she was pretty, on the contrary, she knew she was quite beautiful—even if she was lacking in the cleavage department. Unfortunately she wasn't a girl-next-door approachable sort of pretty. She had, she was told, quite the resting bitch face. Not to mention, she was tall and, thanks to kickboxing, a little more muscular than most women. But hey, a girl's got to blow off steam somehow. Especially in her line of work. If men were intimidated by her, well that was their problem.
And she looked damn good in this period clothing.
It only took a few minutes, once the maid returned, for her to be ready to go, and Len was waiting for her downstairs in the saloon.
"Izzy you look beautiful!" he exclaimed, doing the shot waiting for him and then pushing off the dark wood bar. She couldn't help but grin unabashedly at him, maybe this place really was seductive, like her mom had told her.
"The horses should be saddled," Len commented, taking her by the hand in a gallant fashion. It was odd to see him so thoroughly entrenched in the character, but Izzy supposed that Westworld had the same effect on him that it did her. And from his black cowboy hat to the rather serious looking gun in his holster, Len looked like he belonged in the park.
As they turned to leave, an old man with a black eye patch called out to them from his seat at the bar. "If you kids are lookin' fer adventure, can I interest you in a treasure hunt? I need able-bodied young people like yerselves, but I have a map. There's said to be a stash of gold up in the mountains!"
"Len," Izzy turned to him and grabbed his arm. "Let's do it! It sounds like a lot of fun!"
"That's the spirit lass!" the host replied enthusiastically. "You won't regret it!"
Len cringed, taking hold of her waist in an attempt to guide her. "Iz, there are a lot of things we could do. Don't just pick the first thing."
She frowned, eyeing the still-hopeful host. "I want to do this. The mountains look beautiful and it will be a lot of riding. It seems like a good way to get my feet wet here. It's not my fault that you've been here a million times already."
They stared at each other.
"Fine, okay, you're right," Len relented with a reluctant smile. He turned to the old man. "I will go bring the horses around and we will meet you outside the saloon."
"Ye haw! And the lady is right, the mountains are some of the purdiest sights you'll ever see."
Izzy pretended to not hear Len's groan. As long as she was the one paying her own discounted rate of $10,000 a day, she was going to get what she wanted. Not his money, not his narrative.
Much to Izzy's dismay, it took all of 10 minutes before Len was trying to sidetrack her again.
The three of them walked their horses through the bustling town, passing by the jail. It seemed the rather adorable-looking plump sheriff and his posse were looking to gather a few more people to go hunt an outlaw. Another couple of guests, a chubby middle-aged man in a brave maroon-colored coat and black necktie, and a petite black-haired woman with a top hat seemed to be eager to begin.
"Murderous son-of-a-bitch named Hector Escaton gunned down the marshal. He's holed up in the mountains."
Immediately, Len froze and turned to read the newly posted Wanted poster. They were willing to give $500 for the guy, which Izzy estimated at about $14,000 in modern terms. A respectable sum to garner, she joked internally.
Seeing where this situation was going, the blonde steadfastly continued her superficial conversation with Eye Patch, the host, in hopes that her sheer force of will would get them out of temptation and on the road to the gold hunt. But all hope was lost when the sheriff singled Len out.
"You there, you look like the type who'd put his mettle to it!"
He turned to her with a pleading expression. "Iz , come on. This will be so much more fun and exciting. You will like this so much more! We can do the gold hunt any time, he is here every day. The Escaton Hunt only loops once every three weeks! If we don't do it now, we'll miss it!"
Izzy sighed in defeat. Maybe he was right, maybe she would enjoy this much more, and if it only was available once in three weeks it was probably worth doing. She had to trust that Len knew her well enough to know what she would like. They could always do the gold hunt tomorrow. She looked between Eye Patch, the sheriff, and Len.
"We are trying to catch him alive, right?" she ventured. She did not care how creeped-out by the robots she was, she was not going to be a party to hunting and killing anything, anytime, anywhere for fun.
The sheriff was about to speak, but Len cut him off. "Of course, Izzy. We always want to catch them alive."
She sighed and turned to Eye Patch. "I'm really sorry sir, if you'll have us tomorrow, we'd be happy to help you." She handed him a few coins.
The old man tipped his hat to her and gave her a kind smile. "No worries, little lady. I'd be happy to see you tomorrow, now go help keep the town safe!"
That made her feel better about the situation, and she went to check the horse's girth and then the saddlebags. Everything from a canteen of water to Band-Aids were safely strapped in.
Len mounted his black horse. "Stop giving the hosts money!" he demanded jokingly. "They don't need it. You do!"
Izzy shot him a glare. "They make me sad!"
He argued no further, and with the sheriff leading the way, they set off to the mountains to find Hector Escaton's camp.
The ride through the rough narrow mountain paths was eerily silent anytime there was a lull in the conversation. If Izzy didn't know better, she would have assumed that the ambiance was tailored to the narrative. She was prepared for owl calls and thunder sounds any minute. But that didn't lessen the spectacular view. Len and the other male guest, Craig, raced ahead when they first got out of town, and she had been tempted to follow suit, but the woman, Lori, would have been left alone in the back of the pack. Based on how much small talk she kept starting, Izzy figured she really wasn't pleased with that prospect.
"So is this your first trip to the park?" Lori asked. She was constantly switching hands with the reins and swatting flies, definitely not the outdoorsy type.
"Yeah I used to come a lot when I was little with my mom. But that was mostly shareholder parties and stuff. I don't remember ever going into the actual park. How about you?" Izzy gazed off over the mountain; a herd of buffalo roamed in a meadow below. "You see that, girlie? Not a bad first impression of the park for either of us, huh?" she asked the mare with an encouraging pat.
The cowboy host riding slightly ahead next to the sheriff shot her an amused smile.
Lori nodded thoughtfully. "This is my first time here too. Craig heard so many good things from his friends that he was just dying to come. So here we are, spending our 11th anniversary hunting bandits!"
"Congratulations. I'm sure there are worse ways to spend an anniversary," she joked. The woman laughed, but it wasn't convincing.
"I'm trying to humor him, but sitting on a horse for hours in the blistering sun, in a dress that weighs a million pounds, isn't exactly what I call fun."
Izzy could tell by the woman's declining enthusiasm in body language and increase in restless fidgeting, any moment now her companion was going to start complaining.
"How much longer is this going to take? It is starting to get dark!"
Like clockwork.
The man laughed amiably. "Sweetheart we didn't decide to go on a nature hike! This may take some time!" He looked to Len for bro-confirmation. Silly girls, am I right?
"Escaton is like a snake; he's silent, knows these hills as well as the savages do. He's elusive as one too," the sheriff commented spitefully. He eyed the mountain carefully. "We have to keep a sharp eye out."
Izzy looked up at Len who gave her an excited smile. He seemed like such a little boy, playing cowboy. She was glad they chose this narrative instead.
"What the hell?" The man riding up near the sheriff urged his chestnut into a canter and raced around the bend before pulling up abruptly.
The group was stopped in front of a small destroyed campsite right off the road where a man lay dead. The hosts dismounted first and inspected the fly-covered body.
Okay, that body looks and smells a little too real. Izzy saw that Lori was thinking the same thing based on the fear in her eyes and the hand covering her mouth.
"Yeap, looks like Hector's been this way," the sheriff confirmed after poking the body with a branch. He surveyed the cliffs warily.
Craig and Len dismounted to inspect the scene for themselves, and the ladies followed suit reluctantly. The smell of the body alone was enough for Izzy to know she did not want to investigate further personally.
She took the time to slowly survey the scenic cliffs and wilderness, and for the briefest of moments thought she had seen movement. Her eyes locked on to a shadowy crevice among the rocks above them; although with the encroaching darkness it was hard to discern what exactly she was looking at, as her eyes adjusted she swore there was a human face staring back at her.
She glanced away and said nothing. If they were going to find the outlaw, it was going to be up to cowboy Len and cowboy Craig.
"Any idea how much longer this is going to take? My wife doesn't want to be out here after dark," Craig asked the sheriff.
How could he possibly know the answer to that? And why would you assume that hunting down an outlaw in the mountains was going to be a Sunday matinee-home for the night game sort of experience? Izzy rolled her eyes, letting out a cough. The desert air was hard on her lungs.
The nice cowboy who had smiled at her handed her his flask in reaction. Izzy nodded her thanks, not really wanting to share spit with a robot, but needing to whet her pallet. And alcohol would definitely make this experience more interesting.
As she took the swig, she couldn't help but think that if the outlaw they were hunting was a murderer who was skilled at camouflaging himself in the hills, and they just found a recently murdered man... shouldn't they not stop and dismount? Didn't this make them sitting ducks?
What the sheriff didn't know was that for a brief moment while he was scanning the hills, he had been staring directly at his prize. If he had had a mind to, Hector could have killed him a half-hour ago. How the hapless crew ever brought down a real criminal was beyond him. He heard the group of wannabe gunslingers from the moment they entered the pass miles ago, racing and shouting like idiots. The marshal's gang hadn't been much more inspiring, but at least they seemed to take it seriously!
"Una serpiente? Our friend must not know that he has a real snake in his midst. I am just the cold-blooded half-savage."
The woman next to him smirked, making the snake tattoo on her face appear to coil tighter. She cocked her gun and leveled it on the boulder in front of them.
"Just wait, they are not quite where I want them yet," Hector replied loftily. He was not concerned by this small group of misfits. The one woman didn't even look like she wanted to be there, and one man kept looking back and smiling at the other woman. Not exactly a menacing sight.
The pretty blonde woman intrigued him, however. Unlike her unfortunately unobservant leader, when she was surveying the cliffs, she had spotted him easily. He knew it by the way her eyes flashed for a moment. She stared him down, but as quickly as she had challenged him, she looked away. And she said nothing to the rest of the group.
Another useful addition to the sheriff's dream team.
Armistice grumbled, but obliged. "You seem very sure of yourself today. Careful you don't get cocky."
He gave her a cheeky smile. "They come up into my mountains and expect to be successful? Well the hunter can try, but the fox knows where he is going."
It had only taken a few minutes after swallowing the whiskey for Izzy to know something was wrong. She felt the telltale itching and burning sensation spread over her skin. What had she eaten that would have given her an allergic reaction? She would only have moments before her throat began to close.
She reached for the saddlebag, but the mare jumped sideways in fright as shots began to ring out and echo in the closed-off pass. She would need someone else's help.
She looked to Lori, who had been next to her, only to find the older woman already had her horse turned around and was heading back down the path. One of the hosts went with to escort her. Scanning the area, Izzy realized that the sheriff seemed to be malfunctioning; despite the danger being imminent, he remained frozen in place, mumbling and twitching. The other host ran to find shelter among the rocks and shrubs to return fire.
Shit shit shit shit shit...Izzy forced herself not to panic, even though she could hear her racing heart in her ears and black spots began to appear in her vision. The horses were scrambling and bumping into each other in the small space and Izzy lost track of her mare.
"Len..." she gasped, anxiously searching for him amid the escalating chaos. Len and Craig seemed to have embraced their inner cowboy and were busy shooting at the phantoms in the hills, probably with the one remaining host.
The earth shifted beneath her feet and she swayed, waves of nausea coming over her as she fought for breath. "Len..." Izzy tried again but it came out as a choked sound. Blackness began to threaten the edges of her vision and, while trying to make her way over to her horse and the epi-pen in the saddlebag, she stumbled to the ground.
Completely disoriented, all she could do was stare up at the sunset and gasp for air, but she vaguely noticed in the haze of her mind that the sound of gunshots had ceased as suddenly as they had begun. Moments later an unfamiliar face was leaning over her; until she recognized it from the wanted poster.
R& R please!