Chapter 29 #2
If she could at least hit the thing, she could slow it down enough to give herself a chance. To create an opening, to run out the front door and find somewhere else to hide along the route Ronin would walk.
But to hit the intruder, she’d have to see it. And once she flipped on the lights, she’d only have an instant to aim and fire.
You know exactly where the chair is, Lara. Exactly where to point the gun.
As long as the chair hadn’t been moved.
Every step down the stairs was terrifying. Her lungs burned as she struggled to keep her breaths silent, and though the carpet padded her footfalls, she settled her weight with great care, knowing the softest creak would give her away.
When she neared the bottom, she focused on the shadows enveloping the chair and worktable, glancing aside only briefly to spot the barely visible light switch on the nearby wall.
I can do this. I can do this. I can—
Lara flicked the light on and leapt onto the floor. Swinging the rifle up, she planted the butt against her shoulder, pointed the barrel toward the figure in the chair, and squeezed the trigger.
The sound was booming thunder, deafening in the enclosed space, and the gun’s unexpected kick nearly threw her off balance. But she didn’t waste any time in turning and running for the door.
Something thudded and scraped behind her. A hand closed around her ankle, abruptly halting her movement. She fell hard, the impact knocking the rifle out of her hands. The weapon clattered to the floor a few feet away.
Screaming, she clawed at the floorboards and kicked wildly at the thing behind her, scrabbling for the gun. The thing caught her other ankle and dragged her back. Her oversized shirt bunched around her waist, baring her lower body.
The world spun as the bot flipped Lara onto her back. It swiftly crawled over her and pressed a hand on her chest to hold her down.
Lara’s eyes flared as a rush of cold fear swept through her.
The bot’s clothing was blackened and tattered, and patches of scorched, melted skin clung to its exposed metal body.
It smelled faintly like burning rubber. The metal face shifted into an expression that might’ve been readable if the thing had skin, but its teeth were locked in an unnerving skeletal grin behind the small plates that would’ve moved its lips.
The only bots she’d seen with metal exposed like this were gearheads.
Her fear escalated into terror. If the bot meant to kill her, that was one thing. It’d be over quick. But the way it was suspended over her, the way it had her pinned down…
Warlord’s face flashed in her mind’s eye.
No!
Her throat burned with the scream that tore through it.
“Lara,” the bot said.
She thrashed beneath the inhuman force holding her captive, kicking and slapping, ignoring her pain as she struck its solid body.
“Lara,” the bot said again, its voice penetrating her terror.
She froze. The bot sounded just like Ronin.
Panting, she looked up into its face. Its left eye was damaged, with a jagged, disc-shaped piece of metal lodged in the socket. The right was a familiar shade of vivid green.
“Ronin?” she rasped.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“I thought you were a fucking gearhead!” Her terror subsided, shifting into horror as realization hit her. “Oh my God! What happened to you? You’re…you’re…”
She lifted her hands toward his face. “Oh God, does it hurt?”
He pulled back before she could touch him. “Don’t feel much of anything, right now.”
Lara placed her hands on his cheeks. His metal was warm beneath her palms. When he reached up to brush her arms aside, she stopped him with a firm but heartbroken, “Don’t.”
“I see the fear in your eyes, Lara. You don’t have to look at this.”
Her stinging eyes blurred with welling tears. “I thought you were one of them. If I had known it was you… I’d never be afraid of you, Ronin.”
Another realization struck her, this one like a punch to the gut. “Oh shit, did I shoot you?”
“You missed.” His lip-plates shifted into what might’ve been a smile. “We’ll have to talk about that sometime. You’re a terrible shot.”
“Not like I ever shot a gun before.” Carefully, she brushed her thumb along the disc protruding from his eye; it didn’t budge. Her lower lip quivered as her tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. “God, you’re a mess. What happened to you?”
“A trap.” He cupped her cheek, wiping the moisture from her skin with a metal finger. “Why are you crying?”
“Look at you.” Her eyes dipped, taking in his ravaged chest, the blackened metal of his arms, the ruined skin, the jagged chunks of shrapnel sticking out of him.
His undamaged eyebrow plate fell lower, and he seemed to frown. Gently, he guided her hands away from his face and moved off her. With his right leg dragging, he crawled to the staircase, where he used the railing to pull himself onto his feet.
Lara scrambled onto her feet and hurried over to him. “Let me help.”
“No. I’ll manage.”
Helplessness left a sour taste in her mouth. “Damn it, Ronin. Let me at least get that junk out of your leg.”
“Made it eighteen miles with that junk in my leg. Can make it a little farther.”
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Wiping her eyes, she stepped past him and crouched on the steps, putting her at his eye level. “Let me help you.”
“I’m just being what I am.”
“What are you talking about?”
Ronin stood up, casting his scorched arms to either side. “Look at me!”
Lara flinched, and her eyes searched his face. “Ronin…”
“There’s no pretending I ever was, or will be, human. I’m just a reminder of everything you hate.”
She stared at him in disbelief. Why was he acting like this? What had she said to upset him, to hurt him? “I don’t hate you. And of course you’re not human. That’s…pretty overrated, anyway. You’re Ronin.”
“I saw your expression, Lara. You can’t stand to look at me, and I can’t blame you for that.”
“Is that what you think this is about? God, Ronin, I was horrified for you!”
“What reason would you have to be horrified for me?”
Did he truly think she was disgusted by him?
More tears ran down her cheeks. “I know you call it deactivation instead of death, but…you look like you came pretty damn close.” Her heart constricted at the thought, and she sniffled. “You might be tougher than me, but you can still get blown up.”
“This damage is largely superficial. I’ve…endured worse.” He dropped his gaze, expression neutral. “This could have been worse.”
“That doesn’t make it better, Ronin.”
“You don’t need to shed tears for me. I’m here. I told you I’d come back, and here I stand.”
“But you might not have come back at all,” she said angrily, lunging at him and wrapping her arms around his torso. He staggered, but she held tight. Ignoring the smell, she focused on his solidness, his heat, pressing her face to his chest and squeezing her eyes shut.
Ronin’s here. He’s alive.