Chapter 19
How could he have been so stupid?
Facing the automaton with its metal grin and lidless eyes, Sam was certain he would never make it out of that house alive. And even if he did, he wasn’t certain he’d deserve it.
He’d thought Leon—Leonardo—was his friend. He’d basically given their enemy every bit of information he might want to know about Griffin and Finley and the others. Griff’s secret weapon indeed—he’d sold them all down the river.
And now he was going to die for it. Maybe his friends would forgive him then.
He watched the machine warily, waiting for it to strike again so he could counter and dodge. Blood from the last blow lingered on his tongue. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something come sailing through the open window. At first he thought it was an animal, judging from the sound it made, but when it rolled to its feet not far from where he stood, he saw that it wasn’t an animal at all. It was Finley.
The last person he ever expected to come to his aid. Or was she there to make sure the automaton finished its task?
But the metal man seemed as surprised to see her as Sam was. It stopped midstep and turned its torso toward her, studying the new arrival.
“Oy, scrap for brains!” Finley’s voice rang out.
Sam glanced at her, not completely surprised to see that she was talking to him. “Need some help?” she asked.
The automaton turned its head, as though interested in Sam’s reply. “Are you offering?” he countered.
She rolled her tawny-colored eyes. “Yes, genius.”
She was as surly as he was. For a second, he almost liked Finley Jayne. “Then help would be appreciated, thank you.”
Apparently picking up on the fact that it now had two opponents, the automaton made a strange whirring noise mixed with subtle clicks.
“What’s it doing?” Finley asked as she moved closer to him.
Sam had been around Emily long enough to know what those sounds meant, but usually it was a person’s tinkering that made it happen. “It’s adapting,” he replied hoarsely. “It’s changing its programming to account for both of us.”
Finley’s lips parted in a silent gasp. Sam’s jaw tightened. A bloody metal monster that could think for itself. Fear squirmed in his belly.
A panel on the thing’s back opened, and two smaller, metal arms unbent from the cabinet inside. The head spun around on its jointed neck. A panel on the skull opened, as well, and a new face emerged, identical to the one on the other side. Now it could watch and fight from both sides.
“Bugger,” Finley muttered, wide-eyed.
Sam couldn’t agree more. “I can’t see the shut-down mechanism,” he ordered. “There has to be one. If you can’t find it, rip apart any wires you can find.”
“And electrocute myself?” she demanded, incredulous.
“You’ll survive,” he reminded her, and launched himself at the metal man. He thought he heard her swear before she followed after him.
Sam kicked the automaton’s front panel, denting the polished metal. It buckled, making a place for him to fit his hand, but before he could reach inside, he was knocked across the room by a backhand that broke his jaw. Head spinning, he shook off the injury and jumped to his feet in time to see Finley, who had been hanging by her feet around the creature’s neck, pry the panel open and reach for the wires inside. The automaton peeled her off its front like a dirty shirt and discarded her in much the same manner. She flew through the air and struck the wall just above the mantel.
Sam caught her before she fell to the ground. She shook her head, as well. She was bleeding from the head, but he couldn’t see where.
“One of us is going to have to keep it busy while the other disables it,” she said.
Sam nodded. “I’ll distract it. You get the wires.”
She glanced at him. “Are you sure?”
No. The only thing he was sure of was that his stomach jumped to his throat every time the metal turned its awful eyes in his direction. And he was fairly certain one if not both of them would die if they didn’t shut this thing down soon. So he would take the beating and swallow his own fear to make that happen.
“I’m sure,” he told her between clenched teeth. If he was going to die, it wouldn’t be without a fight.
They charged together.
That was when the automaton changed again. It began making an awful grinding noise as its joints popped and lengthened. Its shoulders broadened, pushed open by metal gears. Within in moments it grew another foot and widened by at least two. The shields on its hands shifted, pulling back, so small spikes—like the tips of nails— slid out from its knuckles. A good hit with one of those could take out a human eye with little difficulty.
This time Finley and Sam swore together.
“We could run, you know,” Finley suggested.
Sam glanced at her, not finding the suggestion cowardly. It was the smart choice. “How much would you like to wager that it will follow us?”
As though understanding his words, the metal man nodded and pointed one long, gleaming finger at Sam.
“Oh, my God,” Finley breathed. It understood. The automaton understood, and it was advancing on them again.
“Get out of here,” Sam told her, making a decision as he backed up, trying to put himself between Finley and the machine. “Leave me to this. Once it’s killed me, it will leave. No one else has to get hurt. This is my fault.”
“Reckon you folks could use some help.”
Both Sam and Finley turned their heads to see Jasper sitting on the windowsill. He swung his other leg over the sill into the room. He pulled a fancy-looking pistol from the holster on his hip as Emily and Griffin burst through the door.
“Don’t shoot it in the engine!” Emily cried as Jasper took aim. “We need it intact to find Garibaldi.”
At the sound of her voice, the automaton turned on the new arrivals. Griffin jumped in front of Emily and the metal man picked him up in two of his hands, pinning Griffin’s upper arms to his sides.
“Griffin!” Finley cried. She moved to attack the automaton, but Sam stopped her. “Wait. Griff’s got a plan.”
“How do you know?” she demanded.
Sam and Jasper both looked at her with bemused expressions. “Griff’s always got a plan,” Jasper informed her, as though it was absolute fact.
Sure enough, Griffin was able to move his arms just enough that he could raise his hands and clutch the metal arms that held him. He closed his eyes and it seemed to Sam that his friend began to glow ever so slightly. It was like he could see Griffin’s power building within him.
The automaton began to tremble. The fingers on the hands holding Griffin opened and closed sporadically. The other set of limbs moved around from behind as the metal adapted once more. The hands on these arms joined the others, pinning Griffin even harder. Sam could hear his friend’s groan. Griffin wasn’t like him or Finley —he was much more breakable.
“Jasper!” Emily cried. “Aim for its right foot!”
Jasper’s arm was a blur. One second he was holding the pistol and the next he’d fired at the automaton, but what hit the machine wasn’t a bullet, it was like a small ray of energy that rippled through the air. Finley rushed in as the leg of the thing began to tremble and buckle. It freed another arm to swing at her, but she was quick enough that the metal bashed the floor instead of her, tearing through the boards like tissue paper. She leaped through the air onto the thing’s shoulders, clawing at its eyes to destroy its optical receptors.
