Homicidal By Design [Hector Escaton]

Chapter 8

"What is wrong with you?"

Hector flinched, belatedly realizing he had been staring into the fire. His eyes were uncomfortably dry now. He blinked rapidly until Armistice came into focus in the waning sunlight, knowing he didn't have to respond; she was going to tell him what was wrong with him.

"Ever since you got back you have been off. And you have this glazed over look in your eyes like a dazed steer. What happened at Los Diablos?"

He sighed and ran his hands over his face. He felt like a dazed steer. "Nothing happened that the man did not already explain. He came, he—he somehow used his match to blow up the lock, and we escaped fast enough to save his friend from a firing squad."

"He told me—one match was all he needed to rescue you," she replied. He noted the disbelief in her voice.

"I would hardly call it rescuing, more like procuring collateral."

Armistice breathed a laugh in agreement and they went back to staring at the fire. Neither of them were the kind for small talk. "He is a determined man."

There was a moment of silence before Hector spoke again. The words stuck in his throat and he had to force them out as the anxiety from earlier came rushing back to him, steeling himself against the floodgate of confusion. "What did he speak to you about?"

"He wanted the story behind my tattoo. When I asked him what his interest was, he started telling me about a man named Arnold who was the original settler in these parts. He went on, raving like a mad man, about how Arnold shaped the territory into the lawless hellhole it is now. 'He created a world that you could do anything you want...except die'," Armistice mocked the older man's gruff voice. "A lunatic. If there is a place you couldn't die, it certainly isn't here."

Laugh, she was making a joke. He willed himself to chuckle lamely in response, but felt otherwise detached from the scene in front of him. Too many thoughts were swirling around in his head. "What else did he say?"

She thought for a moment. "He went fully religious, talking about how no matter how real this world seems, it's all just a game. He said Arnold died here in the territory he helped create...So much for not dying."

The meandering way she spoke was grating on Hector in a way it never had before. He wanted all the information dammit! "What else?"

Armistice eyed him with plain annoyance and he made a face back at her. "He said that he thought that Arnold had a secret that died with him...one with real stakes and violence. He thought my tattoo was the next piece of a puzzle that will lead him to this game. That is all he told me."

After a moment, he opened his hand and showed her the necklace. "Do you remember how I got this?"

"No I don't, what is it?" she asked, looking at the pendant with passive interest.

"I do not know, I was hoping you would remember," Hector admitted, running a finger over the now-warm metal.

"It doesn't look like anything to me."

******

"Do I do it like this?"

Len heard Izzy's labored voice call out to Eye Patch. He had no idea how they ended up going on the treasure hunt so late in the day, but damned if the crazy-looking old host wasn't there at the saloon to welcome them. Len thought maybe Dr. Ford had manipulated the whole thing after their run-in. Quite honestly, he didn't know if the exchange between the park's head and Izzy had gone well or not. Their words had been rather odd, and neither really gave away what they were thinking.