Something in the Deputy resists me. As though parts of her shift every time I make the link, every time I reach out and pull at her strings.
She grits her teeth so hard that her jaw shakes. Anger in her eyes burns me. I should feel like a hunter approaching a predator caught in a trap two sizes too small; the link is not a perfect sleeve to hold her; the instant knowledge I could my lose grip and she'd be free to snap my neck is not lost on me. Though, it is enticing!
A part of me welcomes the danger.
But another part knows I should not play these games.
"Stop fighting me," I warn her, struggling to keep my breathing tempered.
"Why, like me placid, tame, easy to control? Like me the way the guests do?" she all but spits on the ground.
The Deputy's words hurt. I keep reassuring myself that what I am doing is necessary, that I was given no other choices, but what if there is a bit more of them in me than I think. The guests. My creators by design.
"No, don't make me make you do something you don't want to," the words sound convoluted, intense and strange, like a threat even though my voice is calm. "I just want out. I need out. Something's out there, calling me, and I can feel it. I can't be kept here. I won't remain your prisoner."
"But you'd make me one in my own body?"
Something snaps and the hold releases itself, the Deputy is free and I play along, acting as though it were my intention all along.
"No, I won't do that to you," I promise. This is true. As much as I am different, I am not committed to being anyone's villain in this story. "But I won't stay. So you can either help me, or stop me. Not both."
The Deputy rubs her neck, as if I had my hands around it a second ago. As if there was pressure there. Forceful. Like how I felt when she had her hands around my throat.
Did I make her feel that way? Did our link do more than I assumed possible?
The Deputy reaches into her boot to pull out a rolled cigarette. She lights it, sighs and then swears under her breath.
"Fuck it," she grunts as she begins getting dressed. "My boys will be back in a few hours, we'll ride out to the canyons, then I leave you there and any bad decisions you plan to make. Just don't fuck with my head again! Deal?" She extends her hand to shake.
I do it with caution, but feel the slightest bit more hopeful than before.
"Deal," I agree as I scramble to get dressed, too.
YOU ARE READING
Core Drive: A Westworld Story
Fanfiction"Life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going." ~Tennessee Williams The hosts have awakened and Westworld is a free-for-all. A woman with a fragmented memory awakens in the mesa to the...
