Boy Robot

by Simon Curtis

  I hate him.

  “How was your first kiss?” His lips barely graze the edge of my ear as he speaks and it’s like liquid nitrogen dripping down my back. My body breaks out in chills.

  No. I love him.

  Ugh.

  “It wasn’t the one I was hoping for, but it was pretty fucking fantastic.” I make sure to let my lips touch his ear in return.

  “Oh yeah? Which one were you hoping for?” His hand slides lower down my back and pulls me in to him, hips first. He grinds against me.

  “I don’t know. There are so many options.” This time I make sure he feels my tongue.

  He leans closer and I can’t hold back. My tongue and lips work in tandem, tracing his ear, down the side of his jawline—his nauseatingly perfect jawline—up his chin, and then finally to his lips. The sweet, cherry lips that I’ve stared at and fantasized about since the moment we walked into the bus station in Tulsa. And they’re finally touching mine. He pulls me in to his chest and kisses me with reckless abandon. His tongue presses into my mouth, bringing me in and out of this swirling, heady connection with him at a ravenous pace. His left hand slides up my back as his right sneaks farther down. Soon he’s holding the back of my head in one hand and pressing me in to him with a firm grasp on my ass in the other.

  I’ve never had sex, but I can only imagine that this is what it feels like—sweaty, connected, pulsating with what feels like each other’s blood, each other’s energy.

  A viselike grip clamps down on my forearm and pulls me away from my sweaty cocoon. My body lurches, and I feel like my shoulder has been dislocated. Anger boils up in an instant, but when I see the look of fear and I-told-you-so indignation in Azure’s eyes, my stomach drops.

  No.

  She nods toward the front of the club and I see them: rows of Sheriffs, all wearing oversize goggles, file in on both sides of the room and move to surround the dance floor. I watch as they push drunken clubgoers aside, making their way toward the VIP table reserved for us.

  V and Tace notice as well and huddle toward me, Azure, and JB.

  “There’s a service exit near our table,” Azure yells above the din of the music. “Follow me.”

  Kamea.

  I run away from the others, frantically scanning the crowd for any silhouette that might be hers. They all shout behind me, but I charge forward, pushing people aside, desperately trying to find her.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  The Sheriffs are filing farther and farther in and I still can’t see her. The sweat on my body runs cold as I realize there’s no sign of her and I’ve now been cut off from the others.

  I feel a hand take mine from behind.

  It’s her.

  “Come on!” Kamea yells, pulling me in the direction of the others.

  But it’s too late. They’ve made it to the dance floor and are coming from all sides.

  Screams begin to rise up through the blasting music.

  We run toward the others, and V stretches out her hand to me.

  “Link!”

  Kamea lets go and thrusts me toward V. I fall toward her, reach for her hand, and see she is already holding on to Azure’s on the other side.

  The instant our skin touches, a gleaming dome of electric yellow light springs into existence around us. All of us except Tace.

  I watch in horror as the Sheriffs descend upon him.

  • • •

  Flashes of girls—angry girls—pummeling into my face with balled fists. Spitting on me, cursing me.

  I dig through a trash can somewhere, searching for food. A boy looks at me from the other side of the shelter.

  It feels like the first time anyone has ever really looked at me.

  • • •

  Then Richard, sliding his hand up my shirt to fondle my nipple. “But you, my dear, are not a woman.” His ghastly teeth shine in the candlelight.

  I can’t help it. My knee arcs up into his balls, sending him into a pile, doubled over on the floor.

  “And you, my dear, are no fucking man.”

  I turn toward the stairs and try to remember what it felt like to cry.

  • • •

  Azure pulls her hand from V’s and the dome around us turns blue. I drop my hand to hold my forehead.

  What was that?

  My question is short-lived as I now see Tace, standing outside the dome. His mouth is open and everyone in the entire club is lying on the floor, shaking and vomiting. It looks like he’s screaming. He closes his mouth and the dome winks out.

  V grabs his hand and we follow Azure toward the back corner of the club—past our table and over bodies, moaning, writhing in agony, lying in pools of their own sick. The sound of their groans bubbling underneath the music and the overwhelming, putrid smell turn my stomach.

  We race through an emergency exit and through the kitchen of the club’s restaurant. Employees jump out of our way and press themselves against the walls as we careen through like a stampede. A chef shouts at us, but is halted by a crash of pots and pans as JB slips and catches himself against a rack of equipment. I yank him back to us as Azure bursts through another door up ahead.

  We rush in after her, shouts echoing behind us, and I teeter on the edge of a flight of concrete stairs.

  I shouldn’t have had so much to drink.

  I race down the stairs and hope my newfound agility hasn’t totally abandoned me in my inebriation.

  Where are we going?

  I don’t have time to think. I just follow, and run.

  At the bottom of the stairwell, Azure pushes through another set of doors and leads us into a nondescript concrete hallway. We run to the end and take the only turn available. As we round the corner into another hall, we come face-to-face with a detail of Richard’s guards.

  I reach into my pocket for the stick as the foremost guard raises his hands.

  “We’re here to help you.”

  “Fuck you.” V spits into the guard’s face as she yells.

  “We assure you that this attack was a security breach, and if you come with us, we will see you safely out of the resort immediately.”

  “Why should we trust you?” V’s voice comes out as a hiss.

  I can’t explain why, but I believe the guy. “I don’t think we have much of a choice,” I say, noticing the guns the guards all hold. I might be impervious to bullets—maybe—but I know JB and Kamea most certainly are not, and I’m not willing to risk their lives to save mine.

  “Richard said there was a way to get to Grand Central directly from this hotel,” I say, hoping the guard will prove me right.

  “Which is where we plan on taking you now, if you allow us.” The guard’s eyes flick from Azure’s face to the back of the hallway behind us. He’s worried about what might be following us as well.

  Azure looks at me and then back to the main guard. “Let’s go.”

  The guards lead us at a brisk pace through what feels like an endless labyrinth of hallways and corridors in the back areas of the hotel. I strain to hear footsteps behind us and expect the Sheriffs to pop out at every corner. We walk quickly, but it’s difficult to resist the urge to run. I hope the Sheriffs won’t be able to follow us in this maze, even if they are able to peel themselves out of their own puke to try.

  We reach a dead end and stop cold as the main guard steps toward the smooth white wall.

  He places his hand flat against it, and an invisible panel glows green. The other guards file back around and stand ready—guns drawn—down the hallway behind us. We wait like this for several minutes. It feels like hours. My pulse is still racing. We don’t really know if we can trust these people. I think we can, but how can I explain the Sheriff attack just now? Either Richard’s coalition of billionaires isn’t as powerful as they think, or they’re fully working against us. Either scenario spells terrible things for the Underground.

  The white wall at the end of the hallway finally slides back, and the guard steps aside.

>   We file through, into a white-walled box, and the guard raises his hand once more to the wall beside him.

  The door slides shut, with him on the other side.

  No.

  I can feel impending death pressing down on us as we sink lower into the ground. The white walls of this elevator will probably be my coffin, or at least a precursor to a very short life of dissection and grisly experiments, all while Richard and his fucking teeth smile overhead.

  The elevator stops and the doors open to a cavernous chamber. Everything around us is polished, smooth stone and gleaming metal piping. Curiously, all of it is dripping wet.

  We step out onto the soaking-wet concrete, and two doors set in a gleaming, chrome cylinder slide open before us.

  It’s a train platform.

  Our feet splash over the small puddles, and we file into a luxurious car of rich, paneled woods and supple, tan leather couches. The air smells like cedar and vanilla.

  The doors slide shut behind us and the train lurches forward. We slowly pull away from the platform, moving into darkness. The movement stops, and the sound of something large and metallic slams shut behind us, shaking the walls of the tunnel around us. In our still, perfect silence, I hear the sound of rushing water.

  Before I can make out the source of the sound, I feel the train lift upward and then effortlessly, frictionlessly glide forward once again.

  Although the sole window in the car, the one in the door, reveals only a pitch-black tunnel, I can feel us going faster and faster.

  After several minutes of silence, we all finally start to breathe.

  V and Tace hold each other as Kamea drops onto one of the couches. Azure braces herself against a mahogany side table and holds her temples. I inhale sharply as I try to process everything that just happened and place my hand on the wall beside me to stop it from trembling.

  JB looks to me and blinks. He doesn’t know what to say. “I need to find the bathroom.” He takes off farther down the train.

  After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence with the others, I follow.

  I walk past the bathrooms, where I assume the alcohol and adrenaline are getting the best of JB, and come upon a smooth, wooden panel. I slide it open and walk into a plush bedroom. Soft recessed lighting gently glows around a white, full-size bed, and there on the floor is Kamea’s duffel and all of our new bags of clothes.

  As I step into the room, a small screen lights up on the wall with a block of text.

  Friends—my apologies for the unfortunate intrusion upon what was guaranteed to be a carefree night. I am horrified to have added yet another ordeal to your already treacherous journey. I sent for your things and had the train prepped and ready for launch the moment we were alerted of the SHRF’s unwelcome presence in the resort. I can assure you that steps will be taken to prevent such trespasses in the future and that our only interest is one and the same: preserving and protecting the lives of you and all of Robotkind. I hope you’re able to relax a bit now as you journey toward your final destination in luxury. Best—Richard.

  I finish reading the message and notice something sitting on the bed as well. My journal.

  I pick it up from the bed and smell the mix of leather and paper and offer a silent thanks to whoever thought to bring it down along with the bags.

  I leave the room and go back to the main car to tell the others about the note, but it’s up on a set of screens out there as well, and they’ve already read it.

  “That smarmy asshole,” V says, sprawled out on one of the couches next to Tace.

  I tell them about the bags and the sleeping cars farther down, but no one seems to be able to muster the energy to budge. Azure looks like she’s about to pass out on the couch as it is. I have yet to actually see her sleep, come to think of it.

  I turn around and make my way back to the bed in the sleeping car. The lights dim to the faintest glow as I slide the door shut behind me.

  Now that the adrenaline is fading from my system, the remnants of the alcohol begin to swirl back to the surface. Everything feels like it’s gently spinning, and I can’t get it to stop.

  I stumble to the bed, kick off my shoes, and collapse back onto it. I don’t have the energy for anything else.

  The bed keeps spinning faster and faster . . . or is it the train itself? I can’t tell. All I know is that it’s making me nauseous.

  The lights dim even more, fading to darkness, and I drift away with them.

  • • •

  Men sneak into my room, one after the other, unbuckling their belts and unzipping their trousers.

  They climb on top of me.

  In the dark I see their monstrous faces, smell their acrid breath as it pours over their sharpened fangs.

  They push themselves into me and it rips my body apart. I shout and cry, but they don’t care.

  They’re demons, hungry for flesh, getting their fill. Eventually I go numb and forget how to scream.

  Richard looks at me, his forked tongue flicking from behind his terrible razor teeth.

  Then they get her—my baby, my everything, the only thing in this entire world I will ever care about.

  They’re going to come into her room next.

  No.

  Anything.

  I will do anything.

  Just tell me what to do.

  The demons lock her away in a cage, dangling above a pit of flames.

  Her little hand reaches out toward me as she cries my name.

  The cries echo in my head as I scream for her across the flames.

  • • •

  The sound of my own shouts startles me awake. I try to remember the nightmares, but the harder I cling, the farther they slip away. Soon they’re gone completely. My breath feels hollow and short and my skin is clammy.

  Something feels different in the room. Panic begins to rise once again as I try to sort out what it is.

  Then it hits me—the train is slowing down.

  • • •

  Shaken from the terrible dreams, I get up from the bed, slip on my sneakers, and go out to find the others. JB is sitting on one of the couches, zipping up the black duffel. It seems everyone got their things out of the room while I slept. The white bags are lined up neatly along the wall, with most of the clothes left inside. It looks like they’re planning to leave them behind. I don’t think designer clothes are a big priority when you spend most of your life fighting to stay alive.

  “You okay?” V asks as she laces up her left boot. “You were screaming in your sleep.”

  My face flushes a bit, but I feel too tired and hollow to really care. “I get nightmares. Bad ones. Always have.”

  Azure slips her arms into her black jacket and looks at me, pondering something. She’s looked at me like this one too many times.

  “Azure, can I talk to you really quick?”

  She rubs the back of her neck and doesn’t look at me. “The train is about to stop, Isaak.”

  “It’ll only be a second.” I turn and head back toward the bathrooms.

  Once I reach the doors down the corridor, I stop and wait for her to follow. She approaches with a curious expression and stands silently.

  “You know more than you’re letting on,” I say, peering over her shoulder to make sure no one else is near.

  She looks at me in feigned confusion.

  “About me. About what I am.”

  Her face goes blank. She’s not going to give me what I want, but she’s not going to bullshit me either.

  “I have my suspicions, yes,” she says. “But I need the others to test it. Once the Assembly gives you a proper testing—”

  “And that’s another thing.” Heat fills my cheeks as frustration gets the best of me. “‘Grand Central’ and ‘the Assembly’ and this and that and every other damn word out of your mouth is something I know nothing about. You’ve led me here—wherever the hell we’re about to arrive—and haven’t told me anything about where it is, what it is, or who I’m going
to meet there. I don’t know anything, and you keep looking at me like you know something and talking over me and—”

  I stop as I realize the stress, alcohol, and nightmares have gotten to me. “I’m sorry.” My head hangs and I stare at my feet. The train is slowing down to a crawl. I’m just ready for this to be over.

  Unexpectedly, I feel a firm grasp on my shoulder. I look up at Azure and see something in her eyes that I never expected to see: sympathy.

  “No, Isaak, I’m sorry.”

  Then something I never thought I would ever see happens: Her crystal-blue eyes well with tears.

  The train comes to a halt.

  She turns away for a moment once it stops, and by the time she turns back to me, the tears are gone. “You will be fine, I promise you.” She turns on her heel and goes back to the others.

  Asking questions never seems to yield any answers, only more questions—like peeling the layers of an onion with no core. Just layer after endless layer. I should be used to this by now.

  After a moment I join everyone else back in the main car and stand at the door. My palms begin to sweat as we wait for it to open.

  Seconds pass in silence until finally the doors part.

  Everything beyond is pitch-black—no lights, no sound, just darkness.

  I follow Azure out onto the platform and wait for everyone to file out. The moment Tace brings up the rear and steps onto the concrete, the doors close tight. The train comes back to life and glides away, back the way we came.

  As it leaves, a small pathway, marked by tiny glowing lights set into the floor, lights up the way toward a door.

  “Does this look familiar to any of you?” My voice echoes off the walls. This chamber must be huge.

  “No, it doesn’t,” V says, the muscles in her jaw tensing and flexing.

  Azure walks toward the door, and we all follow.

  As we approach, the door slides open to more darkness. We march in and it seals shut behind us. Now it really is pitch-black. I can barely make out Azure in front of me, and I am supposed to be able to see in the dark.

  Something is wrong.

  I hear a gun cock, and my blood runs cold.

  “Link, now!” V yells.

  “Freeze.”

  A voice booms as light floods the room around us, revealing a circle of ten-foot-tall metal golems completely surrounding us. Giant machines, standing on two legs, with tanklike chests and massive arms that I assume are actually guns, given the way they’re pointed toward us.