Curtis Lloyd

Ain’t nowhere near here that can put up a horse.

Not sure where to go. What to do. Think I should go it alone. Same time, don’t think it’s an option. Not really.

I can’t tell what day it is. How long it’s been. Ain’t got a clue how to hide my weapons, and if I’m found with them, no license for them to speak of. I’d be thrown in jail so fast, wouldn’t have time to spit. Then they’d find out about those murders. Hell, I’d probably tell ‘em myself.

Ain’t lying no more, I don’t know if I have it in me.

Lucky for me, first gent I run into, he’s real smart. Little spacey, but right clever. He tells me I’m a strange sight. Spoke before I saw him, and that was probably for the better. I still pulled the Mauser on him, and he froze up.

Demanded the basics from him. Where I was – though, that was mostly confirmation, I recognized the place well enough – what day and time. Been gone for a month. Near to the day.

This young gent, he tells me he doesn’t mind lending me a hand. Said I looked woozy. Funny enough, he didn’t think anyone would try a brawl against me considering, but packing the way I was is reason enough for authorities to think I’m a terrorist. Ain’t got the proper color to make ‘em listen, either.

His name is Curtis Lloyd, but he ain’t one hundred percent on that. Just what he was told.

He asked if we’d met before. I told him no, and he said that he’s glad. Of all things, he wouldn’t have wanted to forget a stranger with a horse.

Anyhow. Curtis leads us a fair ways, until we’re little further off from downtown. This time of night on a Sunday, ain’t many folk still about. He broke us into a building with wide doorways – used to be a library, but now it’s condemned. Couldn’t tell you why. Looks to be in fine enough shape.

He’s a fair ways off, in a different part of the building, I think. Almost certain he’s asleep.

But me, I can’t sleep.

Brain’s just racing too hard, too fast. Ambrose, Clara, I beg that you’re out there and that you find this, somehow. Just a word, that’s all I need to know. Was the Game Master tellin’ the truth, and you’re out there? If so, are you in my present, or yours?

God, I can’t take not knowing. Almost the same as if you were still dead.