Sparked (The Metal Bones Series Book 1)

by Snow, Sheena

  “Stop.” He tightened his grip and my ribs constricted. “Or you’re going to make me want to turn this into playtime.”

  “Why are you taking me?” I whispered against his back, pain searing through my bones. “I don’t understand, what they could possibly want with me?”

  “Questions get you killed.”

  And so can doing nothing.

  I ground my teeth together, grabbed a chunk of his brown hair, and yanked.

  His head snapped backward and his body followed. Cold air collided against my face as I free-fell. I landed on the snow-covered ground, on top of him, the unforgiving ice slamming against my elbows. I crawled my way off of him, kicking his face.

  He growled and snatched my ankle.

  My fingers clawed forward in the snow.

  “Not so vicious anymore,” he said, and dragged me toward him.

  I grabbed a handful of ice as he launched me back onto his shoulder again. My stomached collided with his solid torso, sending the air flying from my lungs. He jostled me around on his shoulder, and my stomach convulsed.

  “You better learn complacency,” he said, “because it’ll be all the worse for you humans later.”

  My back arched and my stomach strained. I twisted my hand and smashed the cold ball of frozen snow into his face.

  He howled and dropped me onto the snow.

  “I don’t need eyes to see! I am shark. I am your worst nightmare. I am robot!” he yelled.

  I whimpered, paralyzed on the ground, watching the fury rage through the robot’s blind brown eyes and whitened cheeks.

  “Now,” he snarled, spittle flying from his lips, “you pay.”

  “No,” I cried. The hard knuckles of his fist slid through the air, straight for my face.

  I shut my eyes and screamed, “Alec!” My voice echoed off the walls of the cabin.

  “Vienna? Wake up.”

  I gasped for air and wrenched my eyes open.

  “Vienna?”

  I felt myself hoisted into a sitting position, fingers cutting into my arms, shaking me.

  “Alec?” I stared into green eyes. “They found me. They took me—”

  “Hey.” He loosened his grip. “No one’s here. It’s only a dream. You’re fine. You’re safe.”

  “He had me.” I threw my arms around his neck.

  “Shhh . . .” He pressed his lips against my hair, the overflowing scent of wood pine infiltrated my nose. “It was a bad dream, that’s all. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around me.

  The dream flashed through my head. Robots wanted to take over.

  But not him. Not robots like Alec.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” His breath tingled against my neck.

  I sighed into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. It was just a . . . just a bad dream.” I pulled my knees up, between us, ending our embrace.

  “You should try and get some sleep,” Alec said.

  “I know.” I nodded.

  The image of the robot’s fist flying toward my face flashed through my mind, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “It’s okay,” Alec’s voice softened. “I can stay up with you.”

  “You don’t have to,” I said against my knees.

  “But I want to.”

  My heart quickened in my chest.

  I felt him shift off the mattress and position himself on the couch, taking his warm air with him and leaving electric shock residue running through my arms.

  “So what do you want to do?” Alec reclined on the couch.

  I pulled the covers higher.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alec said, “about the whole sleeping on the floor thing. I didn’t realize—”

  I waved a hand in the air. “It’s no big deal. You’ve put a lot on the line for me already.” I thought of Peach’s words. I changed everything. “You’ve done more than enough,” I whispered.

  “Sometimes,” he said, “I worry my crew will never forgive me. That I’ve done too much, pushed everyone too far.”

  “You mean about saving me?” My fingers traced the design on the quilt. I thought of Peach. “They know you do it for the right reasons. That’s the important part.”

  He scoffed. “Sometimes, even things done for the right reasons can turn out badly.”

  Worry etched into his dark brows.

  “And sometimes they turn out better.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  I shrugged. “What else is there then?” I ran my fingers over the delicate threads that held the different patches of the quilt together.

  “There’s orders. There’s rules. There’s lines you know that shouldn’t be crossed but are. There’s structure and there’s safety in that structure.” He rubbed his forehead.

  I thought of the structure of the government, of the missing people, of the robots, of the secrets, of the lies, of my dreams.

  “Even if it’s wrong?” I whispered.

  His head shot up and our eyes locked.

  “But what can I do?” He sat up and ran his fingers through his midnight hair. “I feel like there’s nothing I can do to change things. I feel like no one.”

  My heart pounded in my chest as I wiped my palms on my oversized T-shirt.

  “Hey.” I shifted and laid my hand on his knee. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job. It only takes one person to change things.”

  “Even if you’re about to take on something bigger than you can handle?”

  “All you need is one to step forward.” I looked away as my cheeks heated. “Not many people, humans, would have the guts to do what you’re doing.”

  “Maybe it’s because they’re the smart ones, humans?” He wrapped his fingers around the back of his neck.

  “You wouldn’t be here, if you thought that were true.” I went to remove my hand but before it left his knee, he rested his hand on top of it.

  “As pretty as your words are, I’m not as selfless as you think I am.”

  “I don’t believe that either,” I whispered. “Besides”—I sat next to him on the couch—“in life, nothing good ever comes easy.”

  He snorted. “Nothing in my life has ever come easy.”

  I leaned my head against his muscled shoulder and rested my hand on his back. His muscles were tense and ridged under my touch.

  “I dreamed, for the second time now, robots wanted to take over the world.”

  When he didn’t say anything, my fingers gently glided along his back. The fire crackled and a log fell into the ashes.

  “I dreamed they wanted to take over the human race. And I can’t believe it to be true for all robots. Just like I don’t believe it’s true about all humans. And I don’t believe it’s true about you.”

  What are you saying? the voice spat.

  “Humans are all different—evil and conniving; loving and caring; and brutal. I believe you are the same way. Life is a choice. And you, Alec, you chose.”

  Chapter 19

  I woke to the morning light and the dying embers of the fire. I hobbled into the freezing girls’ room and dressed before anyone could come in or my toes froze off. I pulled my hair tight in a ponytail and gazed out at the mountains, something Mom would have loved to paint. I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my head against the icy windowpane. No matter how much I looked like her, I’d never be like her. I’d never be what she wanted me to be.

  “Vienna? You up yet?” Kyle knocked on the door.

  I rubbed my face. “Yeah.”

  “Bear’s making some food. I can’t vouch for how good it will be but at least it’s breakfast.�
�

  My stomach rumbled. “I’m coming.”

  The aroma of pancakes wafted my way and my mouth salivated when I left the girls’ bedroom. Bear flipped the pancake in the air, catching it effortlessly in the frying pan.

  “I hear Bonnie hasn’t been feeding you right.” Kyle nodded in the direction of my rumbling stomach.

  I shrugged. “It’s not that. I just wasn’t really in the mood to eat anything.”

  “Is everything all right?” Kyle softened.

  “Fine.” I pushed a smile onto my cheeks.

  “Well,” Kyle said, “don’t worry, we won’t let you starve. Besides”—Bear flipped another pancake in the air—“Bear’s been eager to test out his cooking skills.”

  Bear winked at me. “No one eats food here. But now”—he grinned even wider—“I have someone to test my skills on.”

  “Lord help you.” Kyle laughed.

  “If it’s anything like Robotatouille’s cooking, I think I’ll be fine.”

  “And who do you think taught Robotatouille?” Bear beamed.

  “No way?” I gasped. “You?”

  “We couldn’t send him there as an Italian Cook robot if he couldn’t cook,” Kyle said. “And since Bear has a knack for cooking, he helped Robotatouille learn. You have no idea how disappointed Bear was when he found out he wasn’t the one going.”

  “Everything happens for a reason,” Bear said.

  “Why? What do you mean?” I cringed.

  “It’s the name you gave him.” Kyle smirked.

  “You mean, Robotatouille?”

  They burst into laughter all over again.

  “It was my mom’s idea,” I said, “not mine. Not mine at all.”

  “And, boy, was it a terrible one,” Bear said.

  “My mom’s had quite a couple of terrible ideas.” Like hanging her works of art—I mean babies—all over the house.

  Bear set the plate down in front of me. My stomach growled. I shoveled the pancakes into my mouth. Fluffy, moist dough disintegrated on my tongue.

  Whoa.

  “Easy there.” Bear clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You won’t be able to fully appreciate it the way you’re eating. Enjoy. Savor.”

  I raised an eyebrow. My stomach was more than enjoying the breakfast treat.

  “So.” Bear scratched the back of his head. “Do you like it?”

  I stuffed another piece into my mouth.

  Kyle plopped onto the couch. “I’d take that as a yes.”

  Bear beamed. “Am I good, or what?”

  “Always knew you were, when it comes to food,” Kyle amended.

  Bear did a victory dance around the room. He bobbed his head back and forth as he did the moonwalk across the floor.

  “Look at what you’ve created.” Kyle shook his head.

  “Meee?” I laughed around a mouthful of delectable pancake.

  Kyle pursed his lips. “I know. I know. It’s my fault, too. But now”—he shook his head—“we have to endure this.”

  I smiled as Bear jumped from couch to couch dancing, singing, chanting, flexing.

  After five minutes, I pushed my empty plate away and slouched against the chair, my stomach ready to explode.

  Bear had calmed down—he would only strike a pose randomly every three minutes.

  “Bear, I have a question.”

  “Give us your worst,” Kyle said.

  “Is it normal . . .?” I licked my lips.

  “Come on. Spit it out,” Bear said, waving his hand in a give-it-up sort of gesture.

  “Is it normal for you to share electrons?”

  “Electrons?” Bear frowned.

  “Electrons?” Kyle whispered. “Who told you that?”

  I shifted in my chair. “It doesn’t matter. Forget I told you. I was just wondering . . . if it’s something common.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened. “It’s you.”

  “No way,” Bear whispered, dropping into a chair.

  “What? What’s me?” I said, twisting my fingers.

  “It’s not a bad thing. Necessarily,” Kyle said, glancing at Bear.

  “What’s not?” I asked.

  Bear leaned in. “Who?”

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I thought you said it was no big deal.”

  “That’s not exactly what I said.” Kyle gave a soft smile.

  “But you—”

  “It was Alec. Wasn’t it?” Kyle asked.

  “I-It . . .” My heart raced in my chest. “B-But I thought you said—”

  “Well, how about that?” Bear grinned.

  My fingers were cold and sweaty against the chair. “What do you—?”

  “This really isn’t something we should be discussing.” Kyle searched for something out the window. “Alec should be the one to tell you.”

  “Be the one to tell me what? I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “Why can’t I discuss it with you if it’s not even something bad?”

  “It would be better if he told you. That’s all,” Kyle said.

  “I thought he told me everything already.” My hands fisted in my lap. “I didn’t realize that apparently he’d left a huge part of the conversation out. I just wanted to know if sharing electrons with humans is normal. I don’t understand why you can’t tell me that?”

  Bear opened his mouth but Kyle shook his head.

  “Ask Alec again,” Kyle said.

  Easier said than done. What were they keeping from me? Was it some big secret that they couldn’t tell me? Had Alec altered me in some way when he touched me? Could I be turning into a robot now? I studied my hand in the sunlight.

  “He’ll tell you everything this time.” Bear put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Sure.” I wiggled my fingers.

  “He will. Believe me.” Kyle stood beside me. “And if he doesn’t, we will. I promise.”

  Bear crossed his fingers over his heart. “Promise.”

  “Triple promise.” Kyle did the same cross-his-heart motion.

  I shoved my hand into my pocket. “Can you tell me one thing?”

  “If we can.”

  “Am I going to . . .?” Die any time soon? I drew a deep breath. “You know? Be okay?”

  “You’ll be fine,” Kyle said solemnly.

  Bear coughed. “You never know with these—”

  “Stop trying to scare her.” Kyle elbowed him.

  Bear overreacted and wound up colliding with the back of the couch. His knees buckled and he fell backward, somersaulting onto my mattress.

  I winced. “Maybe we should move that.”

  “Nonsense.” Kyle smiled. “Next time Bear should look where he’s falling.”

  “Or maybe”—Bear lifted the mattress over his head, and my pillow went flying across the room—“we should force it down Kyle’s throat.”

  “Guys! Chill.” I stepped between them.

  The mattress sliced through the air, colliding with my head.

  Chapter 20

  I was letting them fight it out on their own from now on. The pain thrumming through my head for the past two hours confirmed that point.

  Bear delighted in cooking lunch and dinner for me. I taught Bear and Kyle how to play poker and they picked up a little too quickly for my liking. It was late before the rest of the crew came back. I was sitting with my back toward the fire, playing cards with Bear and Kyle. We were playing spades, which involved more luck than skill when the subzero breeze cascaded through the door and chilled the cabin, causing the fire to sputter and sending a freeze through my body.

  “Back so soon?” Bear peered over the top of his cards.

  “Tell me about it.” Bonni
e wiped off her boots.

  “You find anything?” Kyle asked.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Bonnie plopped down next to me in a yellow shirt and jeans. “Alec thought he saw something so we did a double-check, and then a triple-check.” Bonnie rolled her eyes.

  “I thought I saw prints in the snow,” Alec said.

  “It was animal prints,” Bonnie said.

  “Do you think it’s serious?” I asked.

  The moonlight caught on Alec’s broad shoulders and I felt my face heat, remembering falling asleep against him last night.

  “I don’t know. I hope not.” He sighed and his body sagged.

  My eyes followed the haggard lines under his eyes and my heart thumped around in my chest. Those lines were because of me. I looked over at Bonnie and saw the smile she tried to project through her tired eyes. I was putting them through this.

  “Vienna?” Alec sat up. “I promised I’d keep you safe.” His wood pine scent wove its way through my body. “And I will.”

  “I don’t know what else to say but thank you.”

  “What you can say”—Bear shuffled cards in Alec’s direction—“is play some spades with us.”

  Alec grunted and tugged at his turtle-neck, seeming to realize we had an audience for the first time.

  A warm feeling swirled in my stomach.

  “I can’t.” Alec strode toward the guys’ room.

  “I’ll pass, too,” I said then rushed after Alec. “Wait up.”

  I wasn’t expecting him to turn around. I wasn’t expecting him to come to sudden stop. And I wasn’t expecting to plow face first into his chest.