Can we start off by saying I had NO idea where I was, what I was suppose to be doing other than finding out Lawless' plan to destroy The Black Hill Bandits. I was afraid of even stepping foot in this town, because if anyone found out I was from Black Hill – I was dead. I was literately dead. They would hang me in the center of town and allow the citizens to beat me.
I half-drug my bag through the town – allowing it to leave a track. As if I cared. There were no candles burning in the town, in exception for the town saloon that was still rambling on with drunk know-it-alls, and the occasional prostitute prowling around the old building. I softly laughed at that – thinking that in a way, that used to be me.
I found a building after what seemed to be like hours of walking that informed me that it was a hotel. A shabby looking place at that – but it'll have to do. I pushed open the heavy door, and walked inside. There was an elder looking lady at the desk, looking down at what must be a guest log in. “Top of the mornin'!” She smiled at me, an irish accent dribbled in her words. “Would ya like a room?”
“That would be fantastic, actually.” I smiled at her, putting my suitcase on the floor and reaching into my dress pocket to a few dollars that Zachary had given me. “B-” I began to say, but wait. Why would I use my real name? They would know I was a daughter of the richest man in Black Hill. I smiled at the lady waited, “Lucy Carmichle.” I replied with a soft smile. Lying – never one of my best subjects.
“Well, Miss. Carmichle. Here's your room key.” The lady said after a moment of writing my name down and fishing the key out of a drawer underneath the desk, “Have a nice night, err – morning.” She smiled before waving me off. “Room 32!” I smiled at her and nodded my head before walking away from her, down the hallway, and finding room 32. I opened the door softly, looking around. It was a shabby room, to say the least. A small bed wedged in the corner between awful wallpaper and a dinged up nightstand. The wood was horrid to say the least – and the paintings on the walls were horrifyingly outdated. I sighed.
“Well,” I muttered half to myself, “This will have to do.”
I collapsed on the bed – realizing the only lead I had on what Zachary's mission was, was the memories of the day he got in a shootout in the middle of town a week back. The only faces I could recognize were the ones who had their leader killed before their eyes – by none other than Zachary Bagans.
The next afternoon, I woke late. I didn't care though, it's not like I had much to do in this shit town. Get another job as a prostitute? Why not? I rolled out of bed and dressed in the only outfit that I brought with me. I fixed my hair in an up do the best of my ability and strapped my shoes on. I walked out the door, and with a wave of the lady at the desk, I was off in a new town.
I walked down the road, it was bustling with people. Ladies and children buying fruit off fruit stands outside some market places. I had no idea how to even find the gang that I was suppose to talk to – with only a small memory picture in my head, I wasn't sure who I was even looking for exactly.
I was greeted by an older lady who smiled at me, “Top of the morning, love!” She greeted, a thick irish accent through her lips. I smiled.
“Good morning!” I chirped back.
“L haven't seen ya around here, before today! Where you from love?” The lady smiled.
“Michigan.” I lied.
“It's nice to meet ya! Is there anyone you care to be lookin' for?” The lady said.
I nodded, “Actually yes.” I smiled, “I'm looking for Randy Ambush.” The lady's eyes then went wide.
“Why love, that man is dangerous.” The lady replied. I nodded.
“I know.” I replied, “But I have things to take care of.” I added a wink of emphisis. I was a prostuite.
“You can find him in the pub. He has a long beard, he's probably gambling. Even though it is still afternoon hours.” I smiled.
“Thank you so much miss.” I smiled, pecking her cheek before walking away. I knew that this wasn't going to be easy – but I had to do it.