Bonnie put her dress back on while trying to piece things together. Before any of this had happened, she had simply been resting in the shade of a mesa with Capella when the cult showed up and took her.
They must have knocked her out—because she lost consciousness, and after that, she had no memory of anything until she woke up with Samuel Calloway's soul clinging to her body.
She pressed her hand to her head with a wince, looking at Capella as though she half-expected the mare to have answers. She sighed when none came.
'That was Bonnie. It was definitely her—I could feel it. But why would she say she was killed? We're alive… I'm right here and I don't have any wounds. So how? What happened that I can't remember? None of this makes sense…'
She packed everything back into the saddlebags and got ready to mount up.
'Bonnie can't be dead—because I can feel her with me right now. It's a strange sensation, one I'd have a hard time explaining to anyone, but I know she's here. Besides, if she had died, could I have even ended up in this world?'
Bonnie went still. A theory surfaced.
'What if Bonnie's death is what brought me here? Does that mean I might have died in my world too?'
She tightened her fists and pressed her forehead against Capella's side.
'Damn… I feel like an idiot. I can't understand a single thing about what's going on. That demon was there too. Those were the same eyes that looked at me right before the transmigration.'
Resigning herself to being clueless in the face of the mystery, Bonnie swung up into the saddle and looked toward the horizon.
'I really need to figure out what the hell is happening. I have to move fast and start investigating the cult and the demons—otherwise I'll be stuck here forever and I'll never be able to give Bonnie her body back.'
Moving forward still felt hard, like the weight of everything she'd done was trying to drag her straight down to hell—but she didn't have time to keep wallowing. Now that she was probably a woman wanted by the law, she had to keep moving, or sooner or later the Warlock County Sheriff would show up to haul her off to jail.
With that in mind, she pulled out one of her hand-drawn maps, a compass, and a metal set square. She also took out a pencil and propped everything against her horse's back.
"Sorry about this, Capella. Let me use you as a table for a bit."
The mare stayed remarkably still while Bonnie measured the distances between counties.
'A few miles from here is the next independent town outside Warlock County. If I can make it there by nightfall, I'll be out of the Sheriff's jurisdiction and can breathe a little easier for a while. I can also look into whether there have been any disappearances linked to girls in places far from where I woke up. Deputy Collins mentioned this had already been happening around the county—so I'll have to start there and keep following the trail until I find more answers.'
Once she'd traced the route, she tucked away the maps and tools and checked the compass to orient herself, though the enormous sun in the sky was doing a fine enough job of that on its own. She took the reins in both hands.
"Let's go, girl. We need to move fast. I'll find you plenty of food and water when we reach the next town—I promise. So until then, keep up the good work."
Bonnie urged her horse forward and Capella whinnied before picking up speed. Her hooves struck the sand with a sharp, steady rhythm.
'Although… I don't have any money for food. But I have the bracelet, the necklace, and the earrings! I can probably sell them for a good number of Crowns and use that to fund the journey. What I don't know is what I'll do once that money runs out. I need to figure something out before that day comes.'
Samuel had been a self-sufficient adult before this world, so managing money wasn't foreign to him. He could work something out down the line using what Bonnie already knew about the country's economy—Crowns, which were the dollars of this world, and Marks, which were the cents.
With that, she rode on toward the horizon at full speed for the next several hours. At some point she was forced to stop and give Capella a rest. She was a tough mare, but Bonnie wasn't about to run her into the ground without a second thought. Tough or not, keeping her horse's energy up was the smart move in case the law caught up to her.
So she stopped near the flatlands between some cacti and a cluster of rocks, gave Capella a little water, and looked out at the horizon while she continued sorting through her thoughts.
'Still a few hours out from the next destination and I haven't seen a single sign of life. Though that's probably for the best—the last thing I want is to run into another outlaw and end up killing him. Or worse, end up getting killed myself. I've had more than enough after yesterday, and I couldn't take any more of that without falling apart completely.'
Bonnie let out a long sigh.
"It's hard being someone with this many emotions running wild. You're full of surprises, Bonnie. I'm proud of you."
Capella whinnied as if she understood every word.
"You think so too, Capella? Of course you do. You're the best. Now let's go—we're almost there."
She climbed back into the saddle and continued the journey. Every now and then, looking over her maps, Bonnie found herself thinking about the differences between worlds.
'This country is called Columbia… Interesting, to say the least—Columbia was one of the names considered for the United States of America back in my world.'
So there were things that separated these two worlds, and things that tied them together.
'Only twelve states so far, since the country is still expanding—and doing so fast. My maps are probably already out of date. On top of that, most of the territory still belongs to the native peoples… Huh. This doesn't look much like the history I know.'
Even the moon was different — why wouldn't the history be?
Bonnie leaned forward in the saddle and bent her knees into a professional rider's posture.
"Come on, Capella! We're making it to the next town by dinnertime!"
Night would fall sooner than expected.
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It was a much smaller and dustier town than Ironwood—everything built from wood and nails, with no trace of the revolutionary steam-powered technology. The cowboys looked rougher, the ladies less refined. This was a town far from the heart of the county, after all. It was hard to even imagine the wealthy giving a second thought to improving the face of a place they would never set foot in.
Since it was already nighttime, a few drunks wandered across the dirt, and some horses drank lazily from the water troughs along the side.
Then, out of one of the old saloons with broken windows, a scraggly old man burst through the door with another man grabbed by the shirt.
"Get out of here, you drunken trash!"
The drunk hit the ground face-first and rolled down the steps. That was the first thing Bonnie saw when she rode into town.
'Just like in the movies,' she thought with a brief smile.
She straightened up when she caught the eyes of two men stepping out of the bar behind the drunk. Their dark, unsettling stares sent a chill through her—but both men lost interest the moment they saw the gun on her hip, the bandaged wound, and the blood still staining her dress.
Bonnie exhaled with relief.
"Let's keep moving, Capella."
First things first—she was looking for that classic kind of place where anything and everything could happen, and usually did. A place where rumors, smoke, and liquor all talked freely between men like they owned the room.
'A saloon… There should be one here. No better place to pick up information. At least, that's what all the old Westerns always told me.'
And sure enough, it didn't take long to find one—it was the loudest spot in the area, next to the bar she'd already passed, which looked nearly empty by comparison. Down the dirt road, a two-story wooden building came into view.
Light spilled through the grimy glass windows from inside, alongside distant laughter, clinking glasses, and voices filling the air with thin drifts of cigar smoke curling through the small swinging doors.
Bonnie climbed down from her horse and tied him up beside the others along the water trough.
"I'll be right back, Capella. Keep the engine running in case things go sideways."
She turned to face the place and drew a long, slow breath to steady herself.
'Here goes.'
She walked forward. Her boots rang against the wood. She pushed both doors open with her hands—and the moment she stepped inside the saloon, every single person in the room turned to look at her.