---

Simon had, quite honestly, not expected to make any acquaintances or really interact with anyone during this race. It just seemed like it'd be the sort of thing you'd burn through quick as can be. And the idea of interacting with competitors made him a bit queasy in all honestly. He expected them to throw insults his way, call his mustache bad and his hat tacky, and maybe push him over a few times. Getting punched through a bar by a ghost was honestly better than ridicule in Simon's book.

Point being, when, on the way to Cecilia to get the first aid kit from her saddlebag, his new semi-friend maybe acquaintance Jules suggested he stick with her during the desert portion of the race. Well, her exact words were 'stick with us' but he assumed the 'us' likely referred either to her horse, or to the yellow badger man who tended to show up around the same time as her. He responded with silence for a good bit of the walk, not to be rude, but rather because he was completely dumbfounded by the offer. He really hadn't expected such good sportsmanship from this event, especially given his previous interactions.

"I think I'd like that. Ah'm not exactly fond o' deserts, so not havin' ta go it alone sounds good ta me. Thank y'kindly fer th' offer." He finally said as they arrived at his horse. The idea of not having to go it alone and no longer being forced to watch his back 24/7 for any signs of an angry competitor ready to metaphorically or literally stab him in the back was a massive relief.

---

Nope, never mind. No sirree. The idea of not having to watch his back sure was good in theory, but in practice it just weren't meant to be. Seeing as how the 'us' Jules had referred to was not the yellow badger man, or at least not just him. It was every single person she had talked to at the bar. Including the person who punched both of them right out of it. So instead of being able to metaphorically lean on someone else instead of carrying all of his paranoia by himself, Simon was now considerably more paranoid. After all, the person most likely to beat the crap out of him was riding less than ten feet away.

That alone would've been enough to make Simon ride all the way back to Salt Lake City if there wasn't so much money on the line, but it was honestly the least of his worries. No matter how imposing the Brutal Bartending Cowboy with the violent ghost was, he just hadn't done enough to inflict the same level of trauma on Simon as deserts had. He really thought it wouldn't be an issue, after all, Simon survived, his horse survived, and they made it back home alright when they were stuck in that awful desert.

Simon was wrong. It was a big issue, everywhere he looked he was getting reminders about it. And the worst part was, Simon couldn't tell if it really did look the same, or if it was just because it was a desert, and all deserts had pretty darn similar scenery all things considered. The paranoia was almost enough to distract from the heat that made him back inside his coat until he was forced to take it off and pray no one heard the loud clattering of the baubles and trinkets stored inside it. And, of course, because desert heat wasn't bad enough, now that the sun was setting, it was getting cold fast.

Thankfully, they had agreed to set up camp for the night. Which Simon appreciated as he was both physically and emotionally drained. The atmosphere was quiet, all Simon could hear was the sound of the stew cooking, and the sound of his horse chewing away on the oats he had laid out for her. Some would probably enjoy the type of silent serenity around the camp. Simon only saw it as the calm before the storm. And as if on cue, the imposing cowboy who tried to wallop him spoke up. Simon's eyes practically popped right out of their sockets at his words. Not the only one following this girl? Was he a stalker? Did the others know? Why were they okay with it? WERE THEY BEING HELD HOSTAGE!? Was Simon being held hostage now too?!

Despite the chilly temperature, Simon was forced to wipe nervous sweat off his brow. He takes a moment to steady himself, and then attempts to respond as calmly as possible. "S'at so?" His voice cracked during the immensely brief sentence. Consarn it. That wasn't casual in the slightest.

---

The ride out of town was mostly uneventful. Slow Ride took its time, trotting along as Annie and Neon Knight guided him along with the others. Annie took the lead this time, letting Neon Knight watch as they rode. The sum beat down on Annie and Slow Ride as they rode, eventually leading to Annie taking off her jacket, and stuffing it into one of her saddlebags. Neon, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind the heat. The light that reflected off of his armor would prove to be somewhat annoying everytime she looked back, and eventually just deciding to stop after a while. Annie and Neon rode in relative silence, the occasional sound of Neon's armor jingling around or a huff from Slow Ride was most of the sound they heard.

Eventually, however, night sat upon them soon enough, and the party was forced to stop. Annie put back on her jacket as the temperature dropped, but Neon and Slow Ride didn't seem to care about the lower temperature. As the fire burned, Annie watched the flames flicker as she let her mind wander along her previous adventures. There was the time she went to India, and the Pyramids in Egypt, she even once went to an old Indian Burial site. But that was besides the point.

Annie sat in Neon's imposing shadow as Jojo began working on some sort of stew after fishing yet another convenient item out of somewhere. Fortunately, she had her own convenient item. Annie tapped on Neon's plated shoulder, and pointed towards Slow Ride. Rolled up on the back of Slow Ride was a green tent. Annie brought it with as she usually traveled with one or two others while working. Though this time she was traveling with four others. Neon got the idea, and walked over to Slow Ride and began putting the tent together. Mostly because Annie would take an hour to get it set up. The tent could hold four people comfortably, but could probably hold all five of them if they made the most of the available space. Neon didn't sleep as far as Annie knew, so she didn't really count him.

As Neon began working on the tent, Annie heard Joseppi talk about not being the only one following the girl. Presumably, he meant Jules. Well, seeing as she was a wanted criminal, it didn't surprise Annie much. It was probably some bounty hunter or otherwise person after her head. Annie didn't worry too much about it though. They had a lawman on their side. And if it was just one or two others, they probably wouldn't try to fight all five of them. Annie laid back on the cold sand, used to the grainy texture from all the deserts she'd been in, and waited for the presumed stew to be done. She was starting to get kinda hungry.

---

Simon's concern had not faded whatsoever. Joseppi's statement had raised a lot of red flags, and Jules' response had not lowered any of them. Should he try to find out if she needed actual help? He had paper in his coat, he could certainly write something like 'if he's holding you hostage, blink twice' or something similar. But that would mean going without paper, and Perform This Way might ask him to draw a caricature at some point. It was too darn risky. Still, he'd try to discern if they were in real danger around this feller, just not when said feller was less than ten feet away from him. Simon considered himself the type of person who would help those in trouble, but he also knew deep down he was the type of person who would really really not like to get punched at again.

Simon takes his canteen off his belt, and untwists it. The night was cold, sure, but he had still sweated it out through the day. Some water was much needed. Simon takes a long drink from it, only for the very scary cowboy to start talking as he drank. Upon the realization that not only was one of the people he was traveling with 'following' one of the others. But two more people were also following her, Simon proceeded to choke mid-drink. He promptly lets out a hacking cough that lasts for an embarrassing long time. After about a minuet and a half of just coughing, he attempts to play it off. Though while he was choking on nothing, Simon did manage to catch the rest of the scary cowboy's sentence.

Gut feeling, huh? He got punched out of a bar over a gut feeling? If Simon were a braver man he'd have responded harshly with a very rude word. Such as varmint. But instead he just gave a nervous and obviously fake laugh in response, before re-focusing on the whole potentially being hunted by two other racers. "..If yer right about th' two racers huntin' her, that'll probably jus' stack with us all takin' fairly high places in th' first leg of th' race. Which means trouble is prob'ley comin' our way big time." Simon felt kind of queasy from this talk of being hunted. He mutters a quick 'thanks' that came out as a 'thank you kindly pardner' as the scary cowboy passed him a bowl of soup.

While he and Jules bantered, talking about the people hunting them and also about a bounty, which raised a lot more questions. Simon decided instead of asking what all that was about, which would have been slightly socially awkward, and thus terrifying. He would instead take stock of their assets should the 'hunters' find their camp. Simon had his gun, but also had Perform This Way who was a handicap. Neon Ghost had a sword, Jules had..something, probably. The scary cowboy had a scary ghost of his own, but Simon still wasn't entirely sure if he was with them or holding Jules hostage. And Donny had-

Now hold on a minute...

Just wait one second!

Ahh, shoot!!

"We lost Donny!"

---

Annie grabbed a bowl and delved into the stew ignoring the conversation the rest of the party seemed to be having. Being on the road so often, Annie could eat just about anything. She's even eaten rattlesnake once. The warmth from the stew was probably the most noticeable thing about it to Annie. Her body slowly getting warmer to combat the cold desert sands. After finishing her bowl, she sat back a little, and resumed listening in on the conversation. That's when she heard the news.

They had lost Donny.

"Ah, shit. Uh..." she turned back towards Neon, and the tent, which appeared to be mostly set up now. "Hey Neon! Ya almost done with that there tent? We might need yer help." "Give me, maybe, two more minutes, and I'll be all done. What's all this about Donny I heard?" "We uh... we sorta... lost 'im." There was a rustling of metal on metal as Neon's plated palm hit his visor. "How in the actual hell did you manage to lose a person?! He was unconscious!"

"Well, I don't think he's very far, I was wonderin' if you'd go look for him, and I'd finish the tent." "Fine. But I'm not going too far. If he's not within a couple hundred feet of here, he's gone for good." With that, Neon got up, and pulled out his longsword, before twirling it a few times. Each twirl the sword became progressively shorter, until eventually, it was reduced to a small lantern, and mysteriously lit itself. "Huh. I didn't know you could do that. Neat." Annie's quiet voice was mostly obstructed by the clinking of armor as Neon walked past her, going in the direction the came from.

Annie got up and dusted herself off, and began walking towards the mostly complete tent. "Well, that's about all I can do. I'll get working on the tent. Should be ready in a few."

---

Ahh, shoot. Dagnabbit! That poor little fella, all lost an' on his own. He was so tiny too, even a strong breeze might've blown him away like a tumbleweed. Or maybe a snake bit his horse! There were so many bad things that could've happened and somehow Simon didn't notice anything? He felt like a real..a mutton shunter! Golly, his mama would've been so disappointed if she knew Simon had thought such an unpleasant phrase. But he had it coming! How could he have completely zoned out like that? It was shameful. Simon was feeling all poked up.

So poked up that he only half-acknowledged Neon Ghost floatin' off to go search for Donny. But not poked up enough that he was able to shrug of the scary cowboy's threat-insult combo move. It wasn't like Simon could help his accent, it had been with him his whole life. And this fella had some nerve to act like Simon was some type of bother when he was hunting Jules and had assaulted the majority of the people here.

Not that Simon would say any of that. Confrontation? No sir. No sirree. Thanks, but no thanks.

Where was he?

Oh! Right! Donny. Simon scratched at his beard after mumbling out an apology that he absolutely did not mean at all. When Jules suggested turning in for the night, Simon had an opportunity to do something about it. "Turn on in? I s'pose that's a good idea. Don't want ta get back on th' saddle too tired ta ride. Jus'..lemme get a breath of fresh air first. The campfire's gettin' me a little toasty." Simon very awkwardly excuses himself from camp to go stroll behind some rocks in a very blatantly suspicious manner.

Once behind the rock, somehow confident that his blatant lie had been bought, Simon spoke. "Perform This Way!" And immediately, the strange, metallic ghost manifested in front of him. "Well well well! If it isn't the Sheriff of Pudding. You got a lotta nerve summoning me after manifesting me into that crazy bitch's knuckles, tubby!" Simon frowned. He was bulky, sure, but he certainly wasn't fat. Most of his mass was muscle, but it wasn't like he was about to argue with his aggressive ghost. "S-sorry.."

"Eugh. Your kicked puppy looking face is preventing me from even wanting to yell at you. What do you want, Squirrel Lip?" Squirrel lip? That was- oh, the mustache. Darn, that one stung a bit. "Ah need ya ta see if Donny, the blonde feller from earlier, is alright." Perform This way didn't have facial expressions, but Simon could imagine the smug mug he was wearing right now. "That's all? Pff, that's barely even a challenge. So I won't give you too much of one either. Entertain me, deputy stutters. I want a magic show!"

---

Neon had done a pretty stellar job setting up the tent. Well, mostly anyways. There were a few things that still needed to be done, but they didn't take long. It was pretty amazing how such a relatively large tent could fit into the size of a sleeping bag. But at last the large green tent was set up. It was rectangular in shape, and the top was flat, but was a solid head above Annie.

Before stepping inside, Annie retreated to Slow Ride and grabbed a large, light blue blanket. The blanket had an Eagle on it, it's wings fully extended and talons ready to strike. Annie had actually bought this for Neon, but he never uses it, so she decided to take it upon herself to wield the oversized blanket herself. Taking it inside, Annie laid the blanket down on the tent's floor before inviting everyone else over. "Hey y'all! Tent's finished! Come on in!"

---

---

How in the actual hell did they manage to lose an unconscious person of all things? Someone wandering off was one thing, but an unconscious person? Well, whatever. The light from his lantern was modest at best, but it should be more than enough to look for Donny.

He had said a hundred feet, but he had likely gone double that. The endless shifting sands seemed daunting. If it wasn't for Slow Ride and the other horses, this desert probably would've killed them. Annie almost certainly so.

The wind began to pick up, and sand began to stir. Not enough to cause a terrible storm, but enough to cause a bit of blindness. Not a good sign. Neon decided here would be a good point to start a perimeter. A square around the area should be fine.

The walk was, for the most part, uneventful. No Donny, or any signs of life for that matter. There might've been a scorpion or something under a rock nearby, but nothing that would cause alarm. That is, until Neon heard the sound of metal against metal at his feet. Illuminating the area at his feet, something silver reflected the light of his lantern. Bending over and scooping up the object, he dusted it off and held it closer to the light.

It was a silver flask, rectangular with rounded corners, and with a large fish engraved on one side. It's scales were intricately detailed, and had wispy fins on it's side and head, and it's V-shaped tail trailed behind it. There was a single, large letter written on the other side. An "S" was written in calligraphy. It didn't look too terribly old, but he wasn't the Archeologist. Maybe Annie would have a better idea about it. Speaking of which, he should probably head back, it looks like he wouldn't be finding Donny. With a new flask in hand, Neon walked back to the light of the campfire, and the big green tent.

---

The first night was most certainly the worst. After a ten minute magic show which involved Simon being forced to pull a rope of handkerchiefs from his coat, break an egg into his hat, and pretend to decapitate his thumb (he really wasn't sure how that one fooled his Ghost), Perform This Way had shot off like a rocket. Leaving Simon alone. Of course actually sleeping was no better, as they all shared a single tent, and Simon had to utilize his trusted politeness strategy of scrunching up his body to occupy as little room as possible. It was not comfortable, and it was also awkward, as Simon was typically the sort of fella to not even give someone a pat on the back without asking if it was alright first. Going from that to sleeping in a tent during the cold of a desert night with three other people was like whiplash.

Of course, Simon had to adjust quick. He wanted to win the race to exorcise his scary ghost, and use the rest of the money to settle down somewhere quiet. And despite being terrified, he certainly wasn't lazy. Simon knew the only way to get what you wanted was to work towards that goal. So here he was, working. It was day three now, Perform This Way had returned yesterday and informed Simon that Donny was safe. When asked where he was, Perform This Way explained that Simon never told him to bring him back. It figured that he would get the Ghost that operated via extremely specific word choice.

But while Donny's confirmed survival and the group gradually warming up to each other (and being less intimidating overall) were both massive reliefs to Simon, he couldn't bring himself to speak up this particular morning. It was a silly reason, Simon knew. But something was eating at him real bad. The whole area felt too darn familiar. The desert itself was already putting him on edge, but now that it was getting rockier and rockier he couldn't help but compare it to that horrid place he got lost in a few years back. Where Cecilia had saved his bacon, but the stress and trauma were so much he quit his job on the spot. The event that got him haunted in the first place, no doubt by one of the ghosts that perished in that desert.

Of course, Simon knew that the place he had nearly died in was a totally different desert, after all, they didn't just up and move across country. But that didn't prevent him from noticing similarities. Similarities that caused him to act extra cautious, and those actions were certainly causing annoyance towards everyone else. Simon had been going on about making sure everyone stayed extra hydrated and ensuring their horses were well-rested all day. He didn't mean to be so overbearing, but Simon really did not want these fellas to experience what was basically a do-si-do with heat death. It wasn't the type of dance you oughta do at any sort of get together.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Jules stopping her singing, quite honestly the singing was welcome background noise, it helped distract Simon from his thoughts, but his brain was apparently quick to adapt, since he had managed to get distracted from being distracted and ended up getting nervous anyway. Regardless, he paused to let Jules' words sink in. They were lost? THEY WERE LOST IN A SCARY DESERT!?

"HHHHHHHHOooowie! It sure is mighty hot out. D'you think it's hotter than yesterday? It's all startin' ta blend together for me." Simon was midway through his scream of fear when he managed to transfer that energy into an incredibly mundane statement. His sweat was half from the heat, and half from fear. The panicked 'friendly' look on his face failed to hide his concern. If they were lost in a desert, then it was Simon's worst day ever all over again.

Of course, in his panic, Simon failed to acknowledge that Jules was merely questioning if they were lost. It wasn't that they were absolutely, most definitely lost.

---

It had been three whole days since they left town. Annie, being the Archeologist extraordinaire that she was, was very used to this kind of thing, though her trips usually didn't last more than a week as she traveled from place to place. Neon sat behind her, keeping a lookout for any trouble as he usually does. Neon used to control the reigns, but the sun shining off of his armor was blinding, so they switched places.

The days followed mostly the same pattern. Travel, eat, sleep. Pretty norm as l all things considered. Fortunately, there was some good news: Donny had been found, and he was alive. Or at least, that's what Simon's robot friend told them. Unfortunately, Simon didn't have the foresight to ask said robot friend to actually bring him back. But Annie knew she'd probably do the same thing.

By the third day, it looked like they were getting doubts about their traveling route. Or at least, Jules seemed to think so. "Well, if you're feelin' lost, maybe Neon and I could take look at the map. We're pretty good at that, all things considered." And they were. For once, this was something Annie was actually better at than Neon. Comes with the territory of being an archeologist, she imagined. Though Neon knew that with Annie at the helm, there would probably be more than a few detours, all in the name of "Oh that looks cool".