In a world where outlaws are no longer wanted, the past seems to be another foe. Seven years and one disappearance can hold many wounds. Even as you learn that those wounds are about to be torn right back open.
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Camille hated the humidity of this land. Her blouse would stick to her arms from sweat, her face would flush tomato red and it made the air thick with people's stench.
She sat in the rowdy saloon of Rhodes as she waited for her informant to make an appearance. She was early but it didn't settle the hairs at the back of her neck. Patience had never been Camille's strongest virtue as a child. Seeing as she was always moving from town to town, she never felt settled enough to grow some patience. That of course blew into other aspects of her life and now look where it had landed her. However as she grew up and learnt that having a small amount patience could save her life, she adapted.
God what I'd give to go back, Camille wished as she sipped her whiskey. The burn as it slid down her throat reminding her how hungry she was, and the room took on a saturated hue only furthering her headache. Shouldn't have left without a bite first.
The saloon was full with workers after a long scorching day. Most worked on the Gray Plantation, others went out to Saint Denis for work. Their overalls dirtied and their brows still sticky from sweat whilst they smelt like the ass end of a barn. Working girls were sat or stood together looking for their night of work. Some looked disgusted with their choice of clients – Camille couldn't blame them. She was half tempted to make their night easier and pay them herself just to let them escape the wondering eye of a drunken mess. If all went well with this meeting then she'd spare ten minutes to help them out.
Beer and whiskey was potent in the air, mixing with the smell coming from each person it was a miracle that Camille could even sit still long enough to be in there.
Camille heard the beating of horse hooves outside as the rider called for the horse to slow. Sitting straighter she looked out the window to her right and saw the man climb out of his saddle, checking around himself as though he would see what was lurking in the shadows.
Something had tipped him off.
Camille waited for the man to enter the bar behind three other locals. His heart was thudding against his ribs, pounding as his eyes darted around the saloon until they finally settled on Camille. He made no hesitation to rush over to her.
"Miss Camille, forgive me please," the man sputtered over his words, air still gasping between his lips.
"Harrison what's wrong?" Camille stands to sooth the startled man. She guides him to sit in the booth opposite her as he tries to calm himself – but his eyes kept diverting back to the window.
"I did everything I could Miss Camille," Harrison's lip quivered and his voice broke.
"He knew. I-I don't know how, but he knew."
Camille inhaled with a deep regret as she sank back into her seat. That's why he made it to me alive. Camille felt her hope slowly break and her anger flare.
