Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Never, ever trust them, Tabitha had told Lara after that horrifying night.
If only they’d both taken her advice.
Here Lara was again, doing exactly what she knew not to do.
Ronin waited behind her, and she found his patience infuriating. It would’ve been so much easier to hate him if he’d just push her, if he’d show his true colors and reveal the monster under his fake skin.
Could she trust him to keep his word? His exchange with the gearheads had been different from what she’d seen between other bots.
He seemed…evasive, almost confrontational.
And he claimed Warlord wasn’t involved. Why be honest about meeting with the ruler of Cheyenne only to lie about the nature of their conversation?
Ronin’s behavior wasn’t typical of the bots she’d dealt with. It was too…human, and that was unsettling.
Finally, she turned and tipped her head back, looking up at his face. He watched her with that unblinking stare, but the corners of his lips were downturned. Was that worry in his expression?
“Well?” she asked. “We going? I’m tired of being wet.”
A tiny crease formed between Ronin’s brows as his gaze lingered on her. After a while, he turned and continued in the direction he’d been walking.
Lara followed, head bowed and eyes on her feet to keep the rain out of her face. She was soaked to the bone, and her sopping clothes were chafing her skin. Her boots were waterlogged, squishing with each step, and to top it all off, the temperature was dropping rapidly with the coming sunset.
She opened her bag and stuffed the food inside. Then she wrapped her arms over her chest, tucked her hands under her armpits, and clung to whatever warmth she could muster.
When she glanced up to make sure Ronin was still ahead of her, something at the edge of her vision caught her attention.
She turned her head, and her breath fled her lungs.
Lara had never seen so much greenery. Beyond the road, the ground was blanketed in lush grass, which in turn was bordered by tall, living trees.
Their leaves swayed in the wind, glistening as they turned from one side to the other.
She walked to the edge of the field, crouched, and ran her palm over the wet grass. The blades tickled her skin. She pressed down to test their give, amazed at the softness.
“I think this is how much of the world used to look,” Ronin said from the street.
“Why does it only look like this here?”
“Because bots…maintain. Many of us exist only to repair what is broken and conserve what is not. To make things appear whole again.”
She plucked a few blades of grass and raised them to her nose, inhaling. “It smells so fresh.” Her hands were trembling with cold and approaching numbness, but what did that matter in the face of such wonder?
“Come, Lara. We need to get you out of the rain.”
Despite everything, Lara was reluctant to move on. She ran her gaze over the seemingly endless green. What would it look like during the day, with the sun shining? If she walked away, would this view still be here when she returned?
“You can see it from my residence,” he said.
“But not smell it.” She stood up and faced Ronin.
“When it’s trimmed, you can.”
She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but she didn’t bother asking. Warming up and getting dry. That had to be her focus. The last thing she needed was to get sick because she was staring at grass during a storm.
They continued along the street with the green landscape remaining to their left as the path curved right.
Up ahead were more lights, brighter and somehow cleaner than the orangey-yellow ones here.
It was a familiar glow, even in the fading evening light.
She saw it every night from her shack on the other side of the wall.
Ronin led her around another bend in the road, which opened into a wide, long stretch lined with buildings on both sides.
These weren’t pieced-together, rickety little shelters like the humans lived in.
They were real buildings, made of bricks and wood and concrete, with intact glass windows and doors actually attached to their frames by hinges.
This was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Not even the buildings in the market could compare to the immaculate splendor of the bot district.
Had it truly been this way everywhere, before the world fell apart? Had even the ruins she normally scavenged looked like this once? It seemed impossible, but the proof was here, right before her eyes.
Still, something was wrong. Everything was too perfect, too clean, too quiet. Things existed here, but nothing lived.
The buildings reminded her of the bots. Well-maintained and varied, no two quite the same, but all similar, nonetheless.
She glanced at Ronin. Maybe not all bots…
He lifted an arm and pointed down a street branching to the left before turning to follow it. “Not much farther.”
Compared to the main road, it was dark and narrow. The streetlamps, spaced further apart, only ran down the right side of the road. On the opposite side, trees stood in silent vigil as far as she could see.
Strangely, it still seemed inviting. Seemed natural.
Lara was so preoccupied in gazing at the greenery across the street that she almost bumped into Ronin when he stopped. Shaking off her confusion, she looked around. Up ahead, the street ended, meeting with a road running east to west. Beyond that loomed another portion of the wall.
“This way.” Ronin stepped through a gate between a wall of bushes.
She followed him, staring up at the house on the other side. It was a huge, its upper floors bathed in the gentle glow of the nearest lamp. As though the second story wasn’t enough, there was a third-floor window wedged under the peak of the roof.
Her shack allowed a couple feet of clearance for her head. How much space did this place have? How much did a person need?
For that matter, how much did a bot need?
Ronin went up the steps to the front door, where he fished something out of his pocket. He fiddled with the handle before swinging the door open. Without a word, he went inside.
Lara mounted the steps, freezing at the top. The impenetrable darkness beyond the doorway was not welcoming.
“This is it,” he said from within. It sounded like he set his pack on the floor. “You coming in?”
“I can’t see.”
“You can’t. Just a moment.” His boots thumped across the floor. There was a soft click.
Lara turned away from the glaring light, shielding her eyes with her arm. When her vision finally adjusted, she looked inside, mouth agape.
The lights on the ceiling filled the place with bright, pure white, putting her little lantern to utter shame.
She entered slowly. This first room was big enough to fit her shack three times over within its pristine white walls.
On the left, a set of stairs led to the next level, and straight ahead was an opening into another room.
Ronin’s pack leaned against the wall to the right.
Even the floor shone. It appeared to be made of wooden boards, but she’d never seen wood so smooth and shiny.
Ronin walked past her and closed the door, locking it. Lara’s eyes flicked to the rifle slung on his back, its barrel pointing down at the floor. The weapon didn’t scare her anymore. It really should have, but for some reason, it put her at ease.
Lara approached the door after he moved away, tugged on the handle, and tapped on its surface. Solid and secure.
She’d only walked a mile, but she had entered an entirely different world.
Ronin gestured to the stairs. “There are bedrooms upstairs, if you’d like to select one.”
“Bedrooms?”
“Rooms with beds in them.”
Lara moved to the bottom of the steps and looked up. More darkness concealed the top. “I just…go up?”
“Do you want me to go first?”
When she glanced at him, she swore there was a hint of a smile on his face. “Is there something up there I should worry about?”
He reached past her and flicked another switch. Light obliterated the darkness above. “No.”
“Okay.” Lara took a deep breath and set her foot on the first step, cringing at the squelch from her boot.
“You can take them off, if you want.” He knelt to unlace his own boots, setting them near the entrance once they were off.
She didn’t need to be told twice. Tugging her boots off, she dropped them on the floor beside the first step.
Her feet were pale, her skin was wrinkled, and the floor beneath them was cold.
She climbed onto the bottom step and looked down.
The material on the stairs was soft, dry, and cushioned, with little fibers that slipped between her toes.
Continuing to the top, she stopped at the landing, where a dim hallway ran to either side. She located another of the little switches, and, tentatively, pushed it up. Light filled the hall.
There was a door at each end, with two more on the wall opposite the stairs and another to her left. A place like this could house fifteen or twenty people, at least. Why would anyone, especially a bot, ever need so much space to themselves?
She turned left, opened the door at the end of the hall, and felt around on the wall until she clicked on the light.
This was another large room. A huge bed stood against the far wall, draped in a thick blue blanket, with decorative wooden panels at its head and foot.
The thing was large enough for three adults to sleep in comfortably.
She walked to it and ran her hand over the blanket, marveling at the soft fabric. When she leaned down, the bed sank in slightly, yielding to her weight. It was about as different from her hard pallet as she could’ve imagined.
Another piece of furniture stood near the door. As tall as her chest, it was crafted of dark wood and held five wide drawers. She opened them one at a time, finding them all empty.