by Rosko, Mandy
The woman saw his features change, and hers softened. “You’re not a robot, are you? You’re alive. Are you a prisoner? I think maybe a friend of yours sent me to free you.” She cautiously approached the table again.
He tried to answer, but his voice failed him. He hadn’t used it in so long. Rita waved in his face. “Uh, can you hear me?”
He blinked and tried to speak again. “Yes.” His voice came out sounding strained, with a crackling, almost static sound from the back of his throat. He cleared his throat, and the snow sound vanished. "Who are you?"
"Name’s Rita. And I think I'm the one that's getting you out of here." She looked down at him, making him aware that his black boxer briefs were the only thing he was wearing, and that they left little to the imagination. “Do you have anything to wear?"
"Negative, but if you release me, I have no problem running naked."
“Right, so definitely a prisoner of some sort.” He watched her pull out a tiny black kit and use the sticks inside to unlock the shackles that held down his wrists and ankles. Before she finished the last one, she looked back at him. “I mean, I guess I could at least confirm first, do you plan on doing me any harm once you’re free?”
He shook his head. “I will not harm you. If you grant me freedom, I’ll give you anything you want.”
She nodded, convinced, and the last shackle opened. "Lucky for you, the person who sent me here has the only thing I want. She smiled, and he noticed something wistful in her gaze before her focus returned to him. “You've got some tubes in you. Do I need to worry about those?"
"The tubes?"
He glanced around, trying to activate his memory. They did tend to hook him up to things while they worked on him. It’s not like they bothered to inform him of what they were doing each time.
“That machine, right there,” he nodded toward the main one, connected to a generator. “Pull the tube out and get it away from me."
She moved to follow his orders but hesitated when she saw that one of the tubes was latched into his neck. "You want me to pull this out?"
"Pull it out first, or turn the machine off first, I really don't care. Just need to get it away from me." His voice cracked a little. The desire to be free of the machine was strong. The realization that he was going to get out of there was overwhelming.
Rita chose to walk over to the machine first. Finding the button that turned it off, her hand hovered over it before she continued her questioning. “What is all of this? And why are you here?"
"Why do you ask so many questions?" Even as he said the words, he knew that the situation was a strange one. It seemed the woman wasn’t given any background on the situation. It was reasonable for her to be curious, but he didn’t want to take any time to go over it. He wanted his body liberated from what they were pumping into him. He’d tell her whatever she wanted to know while fresh, natural air was filling his lungs.
“Because if there is a chance you’re dangerous, I probably shouldn’t risk taking you out of here.”
"If I were dangerous, wouldn’t I have attacked you the moment you unshackled me? If my little robot brain was programmed to kill, wouldn’t my arm have thrust out immediately to crush that smooth little neck of yours?" He spoke through gritted teeth, trying to hang on to his patience before he did turn into some kind of Frankenstein’s monster and tear up the whole room.
Rita shrugged. "Maybe, but not everyone who is dangerous is instantly violent. Maybe you a more covert kind of threat.”
“I'm here because I signed up to be here. Will you turn off that fucking machine now, please?"
Her hand faltered, but she didn’t press the button. "No way. No way you signed up to be strapped to that table, or whatever that is.”
He rolled his eyes, letting his head bang against the metal table while he looked up at the ceiling, hoping she would put an end to this soon. “Look, I don't know how long I've been asleep. I’d all but given up on the hope of getting out, yet you show up saying you might help. Please, just get the thing out of my neck before it starts pumping again."
He heard a loud beep and looked to see she’d turned the machine off. It’s steady red light had blinked off. His heart jumped. He looked at Rita, seeing her face still scrunched in uncertainty, but he’d take it.
"Thank you.” He started to remove the wires and tubing from his body. “Can you help me out of this now, please?"
“Just to let you know, if you are a psychopath, you should be aware that I have superhuman strength and have been known to crush skulls with my bare hands."
"Uh-huh.”
She looked sharply at him, and he saw her dark eyes almost burning with a strength he hadn’t expected. There was a passion in there, something attractive, something intriguing. Between that, and his elation at being released from the table, he did something abrupt, something there wasn’t time for, and he didn’t have permission to do.
He kissed her.
She didn’t scream or shove him back. Her body seemed to melt into him when their lips touched, and his arms wound around her. She opened her mouth and let him deepen the kiss, meeting his tongue while his hands caressed her curves. He hadn’t held the flesh of a woman like that in too long, and this woman had a shape to be worshiped.
“We should get out of here before someone comes.” She spoke breathlessly when he moved from her lips to her neck. He knew she was right, but right then, he didn’t care. All thoughts of freedom had left his brain because his body demanded to hold onto this woman. If he could sink deep into her, then it would be worth going back on the table.
“I’m serious,” she said, even as her fingers tickled his lowest abs, threatening to go lower. “We have to…” he caught her lips again. “Think of…” He hoisted her up, using his strength to hold her while she wrapped her legs around him.
Right when he was about to tear the fabric keeping them apart, a beeping sounded from her little furry backpack. Her eyes went wide, and this time, she pushed him away. “That’s my warning alarm. We have to get the hell out of here, I’ve been in too long.”
With a massive ache in his balls, he let her down and followed her to the door. They both eyed it. “It’s locked,” he said.
“It’s fine.” She pulled out her phone and poked around on it, then waited.
“What are we wait—“
She held up a finger, signaling for him to be quiet, then he heard the door click. He thought everything was going perfectly until she opened the door and they heard the sound of sirens.
Chapter Three
Oh, fucking Christ.
Rita felt the bottom of her stomach burn away.
She had fucked up. Of course she did. Because every once in a while, something shiny caught her attention and it always screwed her over.
If only Gerri had told her that the thing she was going to steal was a gorgeous cyborg man, then she might not have found herself distracted and soon to be caught.
"How well can you defend yourself?" The man rubbed his wrists and then rolled his shoulders, as though he were getting ready for a fight.
Rita doubted he was ready for that. Who knew how long he’d been asleep, and they’d just pulled all those tubes out of him.
"I need to get outside. I can shift."
He looked at her with more interest. “You can shift? That's perfect! Can you turn into a wolf? No wait, you look more like you could be a mountain lion, right? Between the two of us, we can take them on.”
“I’m a raccoon shifter."
Rita could see the change in his body when she said it. The non-metal skin that was already so pale seemed to whiten as the blood drained right out of him. Considering how much of him was currently robotic, it was actually kind of impressive.
"A raccoon shifter? Are you… serious?”
"Shut up. We have to get out of here." Rita reached for his hand and pulled him through the door without thinking. She wasn't sure why she had to grab him and lead him out, but now that she held
onto his fingers, she did not dare let go. She had come this far to steal him out of here, and she was not about to leave him behind.
He didn't make any complaints, and there was no need to as they ran. Especially when people in black suits intersected them at a corner.
Their guns were the most worrisome part of them, and Rita immediately reached into her pockets for her secret weapons.
“Don’t breathe this,” She told him as she grabbed a few tiny vials. She slammed them onto the ground at the enemies feet as she and her catch ran ahead.
Tear gas.
It was the most useful weapon she had on her. Rita never went on a mission without it. More than once it had saved her fuzzy ass, so if nothing else could be taken with her, then she always made sure she had a vile of the stuff on her.
The problem was how it seemed the men in black suits ran right through the smoke without slowing down.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
“If you've got some tricks up your sleeve,” Rita huffed. “I'd be more than happy to see them."
Her new cyborg friend said nothing. She glanced at him, about to say something else, but she saw that he’d reached his hand back, the metal one, not the human-looking one. He held his wrist bent, palm facing the men chasing them.
Then, to Rita’s disbelief, blue lights crackled on his fingers. A ball formed on the tips and grew larger to outgrow his palms before it shot towards their enemies.
Rita stumbled and actually stopped running as a beam of light rocketed down the hallway. The guards shouted and tried to duck out of the way. Some of them made it. Others didn't.
In horror, Rita watched as three people were launched backward all the way down the hall under the force of the light.
She smelled burning, but thankfully, she did not see any limbs go flying or blood spraying anywhere.
Rita tried to wrap her head around the kind of technology that would have made something like that happen. Something powerful, enough to take multiple grown adults out of the equation, and fantastical enough that it shot right out of a man's hand.
What the fuck did she steal?
“Who the hell are you?"
The man smiled, and her stomach did a melting thing.
“I'm Dallas. I'll answer all the questions you want after we get out of here. Come on!”
This time he grabbed her hand and led her down the hall and around the corners. She had no idea if he knew where he was going, especially considering she barely knew where she was going.
"We can't run out the front doors. They’ll be expecting that," he shouted as they turned down another hall.
"I know. I know." Rita could swear that some of these hallways were not in the maps that she had memorized. That was not good. The last thing she needed was to be thrown off her game when trying to make a great escape. She needed to keep her focus. There were a few rooms that would provide a speedy escape, and Rita racked her brain to try to remember where the floor plan and how to get to them.
The second she realized where they were, she squeezed Dallas’ hand and pointed the way. "That room! Right there."
"What?"
Thankfully he didn't fight her as she burst through the door and slammed it shut behind them.
"The desk. Push it in front of the door!”
Rita was glad Dallas had all those muscles and all those mechanical parts. They clearly enhanced his strength. The large mahogany desk must have weighed five hundred pounds easily, but it screeched across the floor. Dallas moved it with seemingly no effort. He’d broken more of a sweat when they made out earlier.
Dallas slapped his hands together and looked at her. “Right, what's the plan?”
“Quickie on the desk?”
He looked confused. “Really? What about the guards?”
Rita laughed, “I’m only joking.” Sort of. Because she certainly wanted him, whatever he was. She doubted he was a robot because he’d kissed her and responded to her body like a man.
She shook herself out of it. “Right, yeah, the window.”
“The windows are locked from the inside and outside and shatterproof.”
Rita shivered. If he knew that, it was likely he’d learned it the hard way at some point. How long had he been here?
How many times had he tried to get out?
She grabbed the heavy curtain and pulled it aside, revealing the padlock on the inside of the window, and then pointed to the outside one. “Picked and ready to go. I unlocked the outside before I broke in.”
She pulled out her tools and got to work on the inside padlock.
“You…just came in here, picked a few locks, and we’re getting out? Just like that?”
“Yup, just like that,” she said, totally faking how calm and collected she was.
The more she stayed in the damned house, the more freaked out and desperate she became to leave it.
Someone had done this to Dallas. She didn’t know the full extent of it, but she knew that she didn’t want to be caught. She didn’t want anyone trapping her for who knows how long to experiment on her with who knows what.
Her fingers started to shake when a banging on the door started. It had been a long time since her hand had trembled while picking a lock.
This wasn't the good sort of adrenaline she strived for. This was something meaner and way more terrifying.
“How long do you need?” Dallas asked while standing at her back, putting himself between her and those trying to get in.
“A few seconds.”
The sound of wood splintering caught her attention. They were smashing their way through, and pushing hard enough to make the desk shift.
“Do what you need to do, and I'll hold them off.”
“What? Wait!”
Too late.
He rushed towards the door, charging at it like an animal and slammed his hands into it just as one of the guards stuck half his body through.
Dallas didn’t let up as the man screamed, crushed under the weight of the barricade. He reached his metal arm out and grabbed the guy's skull, smacking it into the door frame.
Dallas released the first man when a new arm pushed through the small opening with a gun. Dallas grabbed onto it just as it shot.
Rita screamed a little, ducking her head, even though she had no idea where the bullet had landed. “Can’t you do that blue shocky thing again? That seemed to work before!”
"No, I need to recharge. Pick the lock! Come on!"
Rita snapped out of it. He was right. Taking a deep breath, Rita tried to work through the trembling of her hands.Her composure was slipping fast.
She wasn't used to this. She wasn't used to the violence or guns being popped off. Her job was to sneak in, take what she wanted, and sneak out before anyone knew there was a problem. She didn't do confrontations like this, and she would have been happy to keep it that way.
No man in the world would make up for this, perfect mate or not. Nothing was worth this, and she couldn’t believe her faith in Gerri’s matchmaking skills had convinced her to do this.
Hell, at this point she wasn’t even certain that the note had been from Gerri. She should have called to verify it.
But then, success! The lock popped open. The window was heavy and took some effort to move, as though the wooden frame had swelled into place over years of disuse. Finally, Rita got it open.
"The window's open. Let's go."
She was never coming back to this house after this. No secret, no matter how juicy, was worth the danger. At this point, when she was finished, she might hang up the whole thieving thing for good.
"Up there!" A voice from below shouted, pointing a flashlight up at her.
She froze. The light in her eyes caught her off guard, and then something painful hit her, as though she had been punched in the shoulder.
So tired. Her body melted. Unable to hold herself up, she fell. She didn't lose consciousness, however, not even as she landed on the grass and rock below.
The
fall should have hurt. It was impossible for grass to have softened her landing. Falling from a second story window was never a fabulous experience. Not even when she did it on purpose.
But it didn't hurt. Her body didn’t scream in pain. She was barely aware she'd struck the ground at all.
Rita was perfectly aware of the men coming to stand around her, their black shoes surrounding her. Her brain was turning to mush, so it was difficult to make out their words.
But she could understand the sound of screaming perfectly as they suddenly ducked away from her and tried to run.
She heard Dallas next.
At least, what she thought was Dallas.
He was chasing them off?
With her blurred vision, she could see him grabbing at the men before they even had time to point their weapons. He threw one of the men into a group of others, then broke another man's arm.
She heard more screaming, smelled the coppery smell of blood.
But Dallas was getting farther and farther away from her.
Wait, no!
No, no, no. She couldn't move. She couldn't get out of there. She needed Dallas to help her. He couldn't leave her behind. She was a sitting duck. If he didn't come back, the people who owned the house would have her.
Please come back. Don't leave me here. I can't move.
She tried to call out to him, to tell him she couldn't get out without him, but she wasn't so sure she said anything at all. More black boots stepped near her. She thought she felt another prick in her shoulder, and then the world started to fade even more.
Blacking out?
She was turned onto her back. A few shadowy figures looked down at her. She tried talking to them. She wanted to beg for some mercy, but no sound could leave her throat.
A bout of unconsciousness, and then she was aware of her body moving and swaying. She was being carried.
Back into the house. Where she would be experimented on and chopped up just like Dallas.
That bastard. Left her behind. Never should have gone for him.
"That's not very nice, but don't worry, I understand."