“No, no,” he said, holding the stun gun out and tilting it back and forth.
That was the moment, and Dakota took it without even thinking. He kicked out, hitting the guy’s wrist. The stun gun flew up and hit the ceiling hard, and then fell back to the floor and bounced across the badly stained carpet. Not waiting to see where it went, Dakota jumped, hitting the man in mid-chest with his shoulder. They fell into the wall, hitting the vueTee and knocking it down, and then crashing on top of the dresser, Dakota on top of the other man. He began punching the face just below him again and again until he finally realized that his opponent was no longer defending. The guy was unconscious.
Getting to his feet, his heart pounding, he saw the stun gun beneath the little table. Picking it up, he pressed the trigger, watching the blue sparks dance between the electrodes. He bent down and pressed it into the guy’s side.
“Fuck you, you fuck. How does that feel?”
He put the device in his pocket and then searched through the fallen man’s pockets. He found his phone and pressed the unconscious man’s fingertip to it to unlock it. His ID indicated his name was Jonathan West, he lived in Sacramento, and he was a licensed private investigator. The only other items in his pockets were a pair of nail clippers and a business card from Stimple, Seward, and Crane.
“Rachel’s firm,” Dakota said, holding the card up for the robot to see, and then tossing it aside. “Put all the clothes in the suitcase.”
He didn’t wait to see if she followed his directions. He just grabbed the ice chest and took it outside, tossing it into the back of the pickup. When he came back in, he helped her put the last items in the suitcase and it followed the ice chest.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Not far.”
The Daffodil followed him out and climbed into the passenger seat. Dakota started the truck and drove around the block. Then he parked up the street behind a gas station. From there he could just see the motel room between the diner and a convenience store.
“Now let’s see who shows up, as if I didn’t know.”
It was less than thirty minutes later when a car pulled to a stop in front of the motel room. A man got out of the driver’s side and Rachel got out of the passenger’s. Dakota recognized the driver as one of the other lawyers that worked with his ex—Bill Kaplan. He wondered if Kaplan could have been the one he had seen in bed with her, but decided it wasn’t him. He’d never seen Kaplan without a shirt, but he wasn’t as big as that guy had been. The two of them went to the door and knocked. A few seconds later, they opened the door and went in.
“She’s very attractive,” said Charity.
“She’s sex on a stick. She’s not going to find her stupid Depression era glass here though.”
“Do you think that’s what she wants?”
“That and maybe some of her other things. Why else would she bring another lawyer? Why go to the trouble of getting a PI?”
Dakota started the car, backed out from behind the gas station and drove west until he hit Coast Road. Then he turned right.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a park up here with a little river on the other side. I saw it when I was running. I think we can sit there for a while and nobody will bother us.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to go far away from here?” she asked.
“They can find us anywhere I use my payNETime account. It doesn’t make any difference whether I’m here or somewhere else. We’ll stick around until I figure out what I’m going to do.”
They turned off the pavement and onto a dirt road that ran past the corner of the city park and then downhill to a small slow-moving stream that dribbled across the beach and into the ocean. Parking under a large weeping willow, Dakota rolled down the windows and turned off the engine.
“I’m going to take a little nap here in the seat.” He looked at the Daffodil. “Why don’t you look around?”
“What am I looking for?”
“I don’t care. I just want you out of that seat, so I can lay down.”
Chapter Three
It was already getting dark when Dakota woke up. He was drenched in sweat, even though he was parked in the shade and had the windows open. Sitting up gave him a headache. Climbing out of the pickup cab, he stepped toward the back. The ice in his ice chest was mostly melted again, so he scooped some of the icy water out with cupped hands and splashed it into his face. He looked up to see that not only had the sun gone down, but also a bank of dark clouds had rolled in from the ocean.
“The chance of rain is ninety-five percent.”
He turned to find Charity walking down the hill toward him. She was wearing blue flip-flops, cut-off jeans, and a pink and white halter-top. She carried a large white plastic bag in either hand.
“I brought you something to eat,” she said, raising the bag in her right hand. “Chinese food.”
“What if I don’t like Chinese?”
“You like Chinese,” she replied. “I see from Rachel’s’ social media updates that the two of you have been to several Chinese restaurants in the past six months—a total of seventeen times. You wouldn’t have eaten in those locations that often if you didn’t like it.”
“That just shows that you know nothing about relationships. What did you get?”
“Steamed rice, General Tso chicken, and wonton soup.”
Dakota nodded in acquiescence.
“I stopped at the drug store to purchase an anti-inflammatory and found that they had a small selection of summer clothing. I purchased the clothes I’m wearing and one other similar top and a pair of inexpensive tennis shoes.”
“Why did you get anti-inflammatories?”
“For your hand,” she said.
He looked down at his right hand and found that it was bruised and indeed was starting to swell.
“Yeah, all right. I gather you stole my phone to pay for these things?”
“Borrowed,” she said, handing him the Chinese food. Then she pulled his phone out of her back pocket and handed it to him.
“Good, you got me a fork,” said Dakota, looking down into the bag.
He sat down on the driver’s seat, his legs hanging out the open door. After tossing back a couple of pills, he ate his dinner. A few fat raindrops began to fall.
“You should get in the truck,” he said. “When I’m done eating, we’ll get out of here.”
“We’re moving to higher ground in case of flash flooding?”
Dakota looked thoughtfully at the little stream. If it rained up in the hills, which seemed likely, this would definitely become a dangerous spot.
“We’re going to get out of Oceanside. It’s too small a town. If Rachel’s going to find me, she’s going to have to track me down. I’m not going to let her PI or her lawyer friend accidently bump into me.”
Charity climbed into the passenger seat, closing the door and sitting quietly. Dakota finished eating and tied up his trash in the bag, which he threw into the back. He started the truck and drove back up the dirt road. As he was passing the park, he saw a police drone flying low above the trees, and he wondered if someone reported a suspicious pickup truck parked nearby. He watched the drone as he turned away from the ocean, but it wasn’t following him. Three blocks away, he stopped in the strip mall in front of the laundry he had seen the day before. Charity looked questioningly at him.
“I don’t have any clean clothes.”
Carrying his suitcase into the laundry, he tossed all his clothes into one of the washers. Loading the payment app on his phone, he switched from his payNETime account to his savings account, swiping the phone in front receiver. If Rachel had people watching his payNETime account, then they might be watching this account too, but then again, maybe not. He had never told her about it. He had opened this account four months earlier. He had hoped to buy Rachel a ring. So much for that
Once the machine started going, he turned to the Da
ffodil.
“Watch my clothes and make sure nobody steels them. I need some supplies.”
He was back in fifteen minutes with a box of assorted donuts. He put them in the floor of the truck on the passenger side, taking out a chocolate one with nuts, which he ate while his clothes finished. As soon as the dry cycle was done, Charity jumped in to fold the clothes. Then they were out the door. They stopped at the gas station and while the hydrogen was filling the tank, he bought another bag of ice and another case of Coke. An hour after they left the park, they were on the freeway. No more than a few raindrops had fallen until ten miles northeast of Oceanside, when it began raining fiercely.
“Where are we going?” wondered Charity.
“I know a guy in Big Bear City. He’ll let us crash for a day.”
They followed the freeway for about an hour. Though the rain stopped after twenty minutes, the dark clouds followed them through the night. They turned onto a much less maintained state road for two hours of winding, uphill driving. Two minutes before midnight, they pulled in front of a small house just north of the Big Bear City airport. Dakota shut off the engine and then took out his phone to place a call.
“Hello.”
“Stephen, it’s Dakota.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m in a bind. I need a place to stay for a day or two and I need to get off the grid.”
“Shit. What did you do? Something illegal?”
“No, not illegal—not really. I gave some of my girlfriend’s stuff to GoodWorks and she’s pissed about it.”
“Girlfriend, huh? Of course I wouldn’t know anything about that. I haven’t heard from you in ten years.”
“It’s only been eight and a half,” said Dakota.
“I should just tell you to fuck off and die.”
“I’m outside, Stephen.”
Charity looked toward the house and saw someone pull back the curtain and look out.
“Who’s with you?”
“My robot.”
“All right. Pull into the empty spot in the driveway.”
Dakota did as directed. The front door opened revealing, when they approached, a tall, muscular man. Stepping aside, he let them in, closing the door behind them. They looked each other up and down. The man was ten years older than Dakota’s twenty-eight years, with brown hair, thinning on the top, and a brown mustache.
“You look good. You must still be running.”
“Yeah.” Dakota was thinking the same thing about him. Stephen didn’t look like an athlete, but he was in great shape for a man his age.
“Who is it, dear?” called a woman’s voice, as a sylph-like figure danced out of a back doorway.
“Visitors. They’re going to be staying a couple of days.”
“How exciting,” she said, hurrying forward. “We never have overnight company.”
She was within arm’s reach before Dakota realized that she was a robot. Tall and thin, with short blond hair and blue eyes, she was dressed in a yellow sundress.
“This is my wife, Mindy,” said Stephen.
“You’re kidding,” said Dakota.
“No, I’m not fucking kidding! She means a lot to me—a hell of a lot more than you do!”
“Shh,” said Mindy. “You’ll wake the children, dear.”
“Mindy, please show them to the guest room.” Stephen looked at Dakota. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I have to get ready for work.”
Mindy smiled at Dakota and then locked eyes with Charity. They both froze for a split second. Then she beckoned them after her, as she walked like a game show spokes-model to the rear of the room. Exiting through a doorway took them from a small living room down a long hall.
“That’s Tag’s room on the left” said Mindy. The one just past it is the guest room. Stephen and I are at the very end of the hall, and the twins are across from you. I’ll try to remind them not to bother you, but they haven’t had much experience with visitors.”
“That’s fine,” said Dakota. “I don’t exactly know how to ask… how old are the children?”
“Tag is thirteen. The twins are eight.”
The guest room was small but neat, with a double bed covered by a crocheted comforter and with a large painting of a cat on the wall.
“You can used the bathroom across the hall,” said Mindy. “Clean towels are in the rack just inside the door. If you need anything else, let me know.”
She left, closing the door behind her.
“It’s like some sort of domestic Twilight Zone,” said Dakota.
“She seemed nice,” said Charity. “Remember what I told you about Daffodil Amontes? About them making excellent wives?”
“She seems like a robot. I mean, even if she wasn’t a robot, she’d seem like a robot. And since Stephen didn’t have any kids when I saw him last, I’m really interested to get a look at them.”
“You should get some sleep,” she said, peeling the bedding back for him. “I can stand quietly in the corner, or if you’d prefer, I could stand in the closet.”
“Why don’t you just lie down over there?” He pointed to the left side of the bed.
If the truth were known, Dakota actually preferred sleeping with someone else. He had been doing it for more than four years now. Rachel had insisted that they not get a bed larger than a standard double. He had complained, saying that there wasn’t enough room for him to turn over. Now he had missed it for three nights. Sleeping with the robot was not quite the same. She didn’t feel plastic; her skin was as soft and supple as a real woman’s would have been. She was hotter than a real person though, at least in some places. In others, she was cooler. But if he just lay there—if he didn’t touch her and feel the differences in temperature, and her shape, then it was almost like sleeping with Rachel.
She was gone when he woke up. When he climbed out of bed, he found his suitcase on the floor by the door. Pulling out a clean set of clothes, he crossed the hallway and took a hot shower. When he was done, he brushed his teeth and then ran his hand through four days of whiskers. He would have to either buy a razor or learn to live with a beard.
In the front of the house, Dakota found the dining room. Charity was sitting at the table with three children. They were just as mechanical as she was. The boy looked enough like Stephen to be his real son, but he wasn’t. He was a robot. The two eight-year-old girls looked like their mother, with similar bright yellow dresses. All four of them sat with nothing but water bottles in front of them.
“Sit here,” said Charity, vacating her chair for him. “Mindy has made you some waffles.”
At the sound of her name, Mindy danced out of the kitchen, holding a plate of waffles high in one hand and a bottle of syrup in the other. She sat them directly in front of Dakota and pirouetted away.
“Do you prefer coffee or milk?”
“I’ll take a Coke if you’ve got one.”
“Here’s a glass of milk. We don’t keep sodas in the house.” She sat a tall glass of milk in front of him. “Say hello, children.”
“Hello,” they all said primly and in unison.
“Hi.”
Dakota ate his waffles, all the while watching the others as if they were all going to suddenly sprout a mouthful of fangs and jump on him. The waffles were good at least.
“So,” he said, after several bites in silence. “How long have you and Stephen been married?”
“It will be five years next month.” Mindy was at his side, sliding two pieces of crisp bacon from a spatula onto his plate. “We were together two months before that.”
“And the… children?”
“Oh, we decided we wanted a big family right away.” She turned to the boy. “Tag, you’d better get to work on your project.”
“Yes, Mom.”
He got up and left through the hallway to the back.
“What’s his project?” asked Charity.
“Tag and his father are building a deck. Tag likes to get a good portion of it done in t
he morning before his father comes home. That way he doesn’t disturb him with any hammering. Then when Stephen wakes up, they work on it for an hour or so. They have been at it for two weeks now. You will have to go look at it. It is very nice.”
“What time does Stephen get home?” Dakota asked.
“He gets off at 10:00 and he always comes right home. He usually relaxes for an hour before bed.”
“It’s 9:47,” said Charity, aware that Dakota was looking around for a clock.”
“We’ll try to stay out of your way until he gets home,” he told Mindy.
“Don’t be silly. The girls and I want to have a nice long chat with you. We haven’t had the chance to meet any of Stephen’s family until now.”
“We’re not family.”
“You’re brothers.”
“We’re half brothers.”
“Why don’t we go into the living room and talk?”
Mindy stepped quickly out of the dining room, her legs seeming to move without disturbing her upper body, like a ballerina in Swan Lake. She didn’t wait to see if she was being followed. The twin girls immediately got up and, much like their mother, just kind of flowed into the other room. Charity waited. Dakota finally dragged himself from his seat, took a final swallow of milk, and went into the living room. Mindy was already perched in a chair. The girls sat on the floor. As soon as he sat down on the couch, Charity took a spot beside him.
“So Stephen’s father married your mother after he divorced his first wife,” Mindy prompted.
“Our father,” corrected Dakota. “He never divorced Stephen’s mom and he never married mine. He was too much of a lazy asshole. He left Stephen’s mom and he left Stephen. He moved in with my mother and they had me. One day, when I was about three, he showed up with this teenager and I had a new big brother. The only reason the old bastard went and got him was that his wife had died and the kid had nowhere else to go. My mom took him in and treated him like her own, even when our so-called father took off after the next piece of ass.”
His Robot Girlfriend: Charity Page 3