Page 17 of Dustwalker
“We don’t have an ag— What are you doing?” She retreated to maintain the distance between them as the bot walked inside. “I didn’t invite you in!”
“I’m not going to stand outside in the rain while I make my offer.”
She glared at it, her gaze trekking down from its face and over its body. The way it looked and moved was so damnedhuman. She’d even felt its warmth through their clothing as it held her—warmth that she’d begrudgingly relished while they’d been out in the rain. If it weren’t for those metal hands, she never would’ve guessed its true nature.
Above all else, there was a key difference between their kinds. Most humans killed for good reason, for survival. But these things killed because they were stronger. They killed because they could. Bots didn’t have a conscience. It didn’t matter that this one had voiced concern for her, had offered to bandage the scrape on her knee, and had carried her home so she didn’t injure herself further…
She leaned down, pulled off her intact boot, and tossed it near its mate. Not without hesitation, she turned her back on the bot and moved to her lantern. It took several frustrating attempts to produce a flame with the lighter and light the wick due to her trembling fingers, but the lantern’s soft, familiar glow was a relief. Inhaling deeply, she tucked the lighter away and returned her attention to her unwanted guest.
Lara started, her hand flying to her chest. “Shit!”
The bot was standing directly behind her. She hadn’t even heard it move.
It was silent, eyes on her. The intensity of its unblinking stare reminded her again how different they were. How dangerous itwas.
At the bottom edge of her vision, the bot held out the bundle of food. Hunger reintroduced itself to Lara in that moment, churning her stomach. She snatched the food from the bot’s hand, tore open the wrapping, and took a large bite in case the bot changed its mind.
“I’m not going to say thank you,” she said around a mouthful of meat. The savory flavor had her salivating. She took another bite before she’d even finished the first.
“You don’t have to. Just listen.”
“Lihshning.”
So. Damn. Good.
When the bot said no more, Lara looked up at it. It still had its watchful eyes fixed on her. The rain drummed on the roof, its sound competing with that of her chewing.
She wadded the food in one cheek to ask, “What?”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Why?”
“If it’s been a while, you’ll make yourself sick.”
“Screw you. I don’t tell you where to shove your oil, or whatever. I’ll eat how I want.” She took another bite, chewing with her mouth open to display the food. If the bot said a single damned thing about hermanners, she’d spit the meat right in its face. It’d be worth the waste of food.
Almost.
The bot stared for a little longer before finally turning away. “I’ll wait until you’re done.”
Lara huffed and moved to her pallet. Just before her ass would’ve settled atop it, she remembered that she was soaked. Scowling, she stood up straight and continued to eat, savoring the taste despite her ravenousness.
She hadn’t eaten in two days.
With nothing else to look at, her eyes wandered to the bot. Its attention was on her collection of treasures. Without its penetrating stare upon her, she was free to study it.
It wore a faded gray coat, repaired in more places than she could count by patches and neat, tight stitching. The only unrepaired damage was the three small holes on the front, over the bot’s belly. It carried a large pack on its back, and had a rifle slung over one shoulder. Her bravado would’ve burned out a lot faster had she noticed that while brandishing her knife earlier.
The bot’s boots were worn, but unlike her own, they’d been meticulously cared for. She couldn’t bear to look at her footwear now knowing that one boot lay on its side, its sole hanging open like it was frowning at her.
“Why do you keep these things?” the bot asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“They serve no purpose.”
“I thought they were pretty,” she said defensively, looking over her collection.
