Hector handed his canteen to the half-dead man, Teddy was his name. Well, he was less dead now that the Man in Black sacrificed Lawrence to give him a transfusion—now that was some fucked up shit. This had been a fucked-up day.
But, Hector figured, it wasn't the lawman's fault, and by the way the Man in Black mocked him, he wasn't exactly a willing participant. Lawrence had mentioned that Teddy was a friend of Wyatt, the same Wyatt that had led Armistice to him. He didn't seem like much of a friend anymore, though. Just based on the bludgeoning and tree-tying.
Hector didn't even know what he was doing there anymore. It wasn't that he was so abhorred by Lawrence's murder he needed to escape, he was just becoming more uneasy. What was he really doing there? Why? He found a necklace that he thought belonged to someone he knew. What did that even mean? And what if he spent all this time and she was dead? Or not real? Or didn't want to see him? They weren't together anymore, there had to be a reason for that... maybe they weren't even friends.
He grumbled and ran his hand through his hair. His gut instinct was pulling him back to Sweetwater, like he was a human homing pigeon. This path seemed like it was going to lead to a lot of crazy old prophets and even more questions.
Maybe he just didn't have the patience for this sort of journey of self-discovery or whatever bullshit the gringo had planted in his mind, but Hector had been expecting something more along the lines of instant gratification. All he was getting was question-dodging and snide chuckles from the old prune. Maybe he didn't know what he was looking for either, and just wanted Hector to suffer with him. And Teddy still looked like he was about to keel over.
Did he mention how fucked up that shit was?
"Appreciated." Teddy attempted to hand the bottle back with a shaking hand. Hector motioned for him to keep it. He had gotten over the fact that they were traditionally on opposite sides of the law a while ago, and they had sat in companionable silence. The Man in Black was nowhere to be seen.
Hector wasn't sure if he was happy the man was gone, or unnerved. Everything about him was unsettling, and now that the host knew he was capable of atrocities that he himself would save for a very select group of people, that feeling was amplified. Poor Lawrence. But he couldn't lose sight of what his goal was.
Pulling the key from one of the bullet compartments in his belt, he squeezed his fist and let the metal poke his skin. This was what he was here for, to try to make sense of his newfound drive for purpose.
"You won't find what you're looking for in that safe..." Hector mocked under his breath as he kicked the dirt. Stupid hijo de puta, how the hell did he know?
"Find what?"
Hector was startled out of his train of thought by the weak voice. Although his initial reaction was to scoff and play his comment off, he considered his lack of options. All he had was a necklace, a fuzzy memory of a woman he didn't know, and a crazy old man who was following a maze that may or may not exist. He literally had nothing to lose.
"I do not know. Your friend told me I would not find what I was looking for on my current path."
Teddy leaned his tired head back on the tree. He was getting his color back a little, even though he still looked like death warmed over. "Well, what is it that you're lookin' for?"
"I do not know. It is shrouded in mystery, just like the son of a bitch who got me here. I am just the idiot who is following him," Hector explained wearily.
They both nodded in silent understanding. Neither knew enough about their campmate-slash-jailer. "What's that you got there, if you don't mind me askin'?"
Hector revealed the key in his palm and brought it to Teddy so he wouldn't have to move to get it. He might as well start showing it to anyone who would look, and with his wanted poster being up all over the area, he wouldn't have many opportunities to mingle. "It's a necklace."
Before the other man could ask whose it was, he continued. "I found this necklace in my belt."
Teddy eyed him with interest, and after running his fingers over the metal, handed the key back. "You found it, but don't know where it's from?"
Hector sighed and replaced the necklace in his belt. "To add insult to this injury, I have only the vaguest recollection of the necklace's owner. She gave it to me for luck, but I do not know what for, or what became of her."
"She might have been murdered by bandits," Teddy retorted quietly, but there wasn't really any malice in his tone. "D'you know her name?"
Closing his eyes, Hector tried to recall the memory of her; it was like there was a physical void in his mind that knew there was supposed to be something in it—she was supposed to be there. Campfire, tents, a man was there, she was there...and she was there...and she was blonde and tall and...and...
"Izzy. Her name is Izzy." That had been almost painful.
"Izzy, hmmm...no last name? And you can't recall her at all? That is right peculiar, friend," Teddy commented. "I only know of one Izzy, and she is sweet on a good friend of mine, Len."
"Len Price you put that gun down right now or so help me I will kick your ass."
Hector's blood ran cold. "Len Price?"
Teddy stopped and gave a surprised smile. "That's the one, but don't be getting any ideas on robbing him. He's my friend and as good a shot there ever was. We have seen a lot together during our travels."
He didn't hardly hear the other man's quip. His brain was exploding—he had an actual lead. Len Price was a real person, and Izzy was a real person. He wasn't crazy, and she could be found! "I have more important things to concern myself with than a highway robbery of your big bug friend."
"He ain't no big bug. He's a horseman and a damn good bounty hunter. So if you have any business with his girl, you had best tread lightly," Teddy advised. "What is your business with Miss Izzy anyway?"
Hector paused before answering. He didn't truly know what he wanted with her. He just knew that he had a lot of questions suddenly, and she was the only real thing he had anchoring them. If he found her, he could make her explain how she knew he was going to rob the Mariposa, and why she thought he was doing it tomorrow. "Anglomaniac then. She gave me this necklace. I am hoping she can fill in some blanks in my memory."
"Not that I wouldn't love to point you in the right direction, but she has never been to Sweetwater as far as I know. Len told me he is trying to get her to come visit, but it hasn't been successful yet," Teddy replied.
"Do you know anything about her?" Hector didn't mind seeming a little desperate, the Man in Black was probably going to kill Teddy soon anyway. And he would like to be gone before he came back to camp.
The other man regarded him for a while, it seemed like he didn't know if he wanted to divulge any information about her. Hector understood that, they were on opposite sides of the law, after all.
"She has a fondness for horses. Len tells me she is quite the horsewoman and loves nothing more than showing off her skill. If she was in the area, she'd be at the racetrack I'd bet."
Hector tried not to jump up from the sudden resurgence of direction. "There is a racetrack less than half a day's ride from here."
Teddy nodded curtly, giving him his blessing to leave the camp, and leave himself at the mercy of the Man in Black.
Len had been beyond thrilled when Izzy wanted to jump right into the hustle and bustle of the racetrack. He didn't know why he was surprised when she seamlessly blended in with the hosts running the stables and races, she was a seasoned veteran, after all. The rest of the day he had only been able to catch glimpses of her blonde hair in the sunlight. Izzy had been nonstop motion.
But for the love of God, how many hours can one person be amused by leading, brushing, and riding horses? Len was bored to tears, and he had managed to find a poker game to play and won some money betting on races. Now, the sun was finally beginning to set on what was the longest day Len Price had ever had at Westworld. Time apparently stood still at the Fuego Amaroso race track.
"Just got to finish this up, Len."
"You are literally walking a horse in a circle," he responded, watching her, hot, sweaty, and exhausted lead a large chestnut gelding on a circular path.
"He needs to be cooled down!" she explained like it was the most obvious thing on the planet. Before continuing, she stopped to watch the horse drink from the trough. "If not he'll tense up. And he tried very hard for me today, didn't you, buddy?"
"He's a-"
Izzy cocked her jaw at him and pulled the horse from the water bucket so they could continue their walk. "You can't keep doing that to me, Len. You can't let me get excited about something, and then the minute I get a little too excited for you, you try to pull it away. This place is meant for you to forget that this isn't a real horse, and that we aren't in some 1880s boarder town in Mexico. So I'm going to walk this guy until he's cooled down. And then I'm going to brush him, and make sure he has clean water and hay in his stall. Because I paid too much to not do that."
"Okay, I'm sorry," Len conceded. She had a point. Just because he got into bounty hunting and war when he was there, didn't mean that her horse thing was too much. "But most people don't come to Westworld to do something they do two or three times a week."
Izzy smiled at him and led the horse off the track and back toward the clay and mud-brick stables. "Well then you'll have to find something here that's better than horses."
"Challenge accepted, Iz!" He laughed. She was in for a treat as soon as the sun went down.
This place was a little too close to Pariah, and being farther from Sweetwater, the narrative was more fast-paced and real. No shootouts at the OK Corral like they had seen the other day. This stuff got gruesome.
Even then, Len couldn't help but be happy for Izzy. She smiled and laughed more in these few hours than he had seen in years. She had always been a serious person by nature, but between her harrowing career—in which he knew she was on government watch lists all around the world and received death threats weekly—and now her mother's illness taking a turn for the worse, Izzy didn't really smile anymore. Not when she wasn't with the horses.
He just wished she could have visited Westworld under different circumstances; hell, he wished he could have visited under different circumstances! Between the board meeting and the looming chaos of Robert Ford's impending retirement, there was nothing vacation-y about this trip. Len rubbed his face as his father's image came to mind. Now he was a man who was in need of some time off. But there was so much uncertainty surrounding Delos these days, and a lot of the burden lay squarely on Dale Price's shoulders.
"Man, this sucks."
A cowboy turned to his friend at the bar. They sat in the small saloon just outside the racetrack. "I know, Jeremiah..."
The first man, a thin blond, continued, "I lost money on all but one horse, the poker game was rigged, the girls here look like men...why the hell'd you drag me to Fuego Amaroso?"
The second man took a shot of whiskey and sent the small glass back across the bar into the hands of the barkeep. "Because it's on the way to Pariah, and it's off the path. Makes things more exciting."
"Well, James, jack shit has happened since we left town, and my purse is feelin' awfully light."
James pursed his lips as his eyes aimlessly wandered the crowded saloon. Even with the genuine hacienda-style white stucco walls, the room was dark; it lacked windows and the lanterns were dirty and dim. People came and went fluidly, but one man caught his eye. Passing through a corner steeped in shadow, he was tall with a thick beard and black hat to cover his face. He was plainly trying to remain anonymous, but something more made the older man suspicious.
One look at the array of wanted posters on the bulletin board and James knew exactly why the man looked so familiar. "Jeremiah, you up for some bounty huntin'?"
The man responded with a grim smile.
Turning from the bar and drawing his gun, James whistled loudly, drawing the attention of the less-drunk patrons. The man in black peered at him from under the short brim of his hat. "Oy, Escaton! You wanna do this the easy way or the hard way?"
Before either man could react, their fugitive had drawn on them and began firing in their direction. The saloon erupted into chaos as women screamed and men took the opportunity to begin firing on their own enemies.
"You are quite the rider, young lady!"
Izzy smiled at the old host as he walked down the stable isle. Looking back at the dozing horse, she realized that she had officially milked this for all the time she could. She was going to have to call it a night soon and find Len.
Stifling a yawn, Izzy rubbed her eyes. The long day of physical activity and the lingering ache in her leg from the epi-pen had taken a toll, and the exhaustion was hitting her fast.
She gave the gelding a last pat and stepped out of the stall only to hear gunshots ring out. Immediately, the sounds of panic filled the air—a scaled-down repeat of the events in Sweetwater. Izzy secured the stall door before rushing to the open stable doorway. People poured out of the saloon next door, scattering like ants in every direction as the sound of shots continued. Len wasn't in there, was he?
She tried to identify any of the hosts and guests running around, but it seemed like the standard at Westworld was if someone started a brawl, everyone joined in. There were separate fist fights and duels suddenly popping up outside. Horses galloped through the chaos riderless, and a mix of cheers and cries were commingled in the cloud of dust.
What had even started this whole scene? Was it a guest? Len made it seem like the racetrack was pretty removed from the storylines. This had to have been unplanned. Izzy was sure Len would be able to explain it to her later.
A second too late, Izzy noticed two men staring at her from the doorway of the saloon.
"Aye!" One shouted, pointing. Without waiting to see what they wanted, she turned to run back into the stable. It was only once she ducked around the side of the doorway that she realized she wasn't alone.
"I hope you do not mind sharing this hideout."
Please R&R!
