Gabriel’s Watch - Book One: The Scrapman Trilogy (18 page)

“Let her go,” I demanded.

“Shit, man! Shit!”

He did as I’d told him, releasing her immediately as he tried to shield himself from my revolver with the palms of his hands. The girl scrambled to her feet and ran to my side. Her clothing, or what was left of it, was stretched out and hanging from her in a way that made me hate both men even more.

“You shot him?!” the man shouted repeatedly. “Holy shit, you shot him?!”

And then, with the girl pressing her face hard into my back, clutching my shirt within both her hands, I emptied two rounds into that last man. He’d flopped over in such a way that I didn’t bother checking his pulse; his glazed expression had been enough.

After tucking the weapon back into my waistband, I had to pry the girl’s hands free of my shirt just to turn and face her.

“Are you okay?” I asked, but my question seemed to be lost on the young woman.

She looked up at me, her eyes quite magnificent there in the semi-dark of the back room, her irises appearing to glow with a reflective jade. They were beyond stunning— almost hypnotic.

“Are you okay?” I repeated. And this time she nodded. “Good. We gotta get outta here. I’m parked a couple blocks away. It’s best we run.”

I took her by the hand, discovering that one of the dead men was actually right, and despite the difference in pigmentation, her skin felt exactly like ours—perhaps even slightly softer.

We entered the hallway, the first man still occupying a crimson puddle on the floor, as we stepped over him. I must confess that what little faith I’d possessed before the war had only diminished to all but non-existent since then; so if whichever deity wished to loom whichever version of hell in my face, I was fairly positive it couldn’t be any worse than the place I’d already been doomed to inhabit. So if God really had the divine audacity to lay these atrocities before me, I’d just have to tell Him that, during His apparent absence, I saw fit to deal some justice in His stead.

What could He possibly say to that?

I bent to retrieve the man’s weapon, lifting it up to briefly inspect it, before offering it to the girl. But—to my obvious surprise—she flinched away from it, as if the firearm had been a poisonous and scaly thing, shaking her head adamantly.

“Really?” I asked.

She nodded, looking over her shoulder, back toward the hallway we’d just come from. It seemed she was still shaken by the men that could no longer harm her. I could see she was trembling.

“Suit yourself,” I shrugged.

We made our way to the entrance as I peeked out into the street, keeping her well behind me, while I proclaimed the coast to be clear. “Okay—looks good, but we gotta be quick. Just keep up with me.”

I grabbed her by the hand again and rushed her into the sunlight, keeping her at my side as we ran to the Jeep. Reaching the rugged vehicle, and upon my direction, she leapt into the back seat and kept her head down until the city was in our rearview.

We later pulled into the junkyard, which—at the time—was merely amusing compared to the masterpiece it would grow to be in the years to come. There was a visible void in the earth, but I’d already started setting up planks and supports with the ambition of building a below-ground cavern of sorts—a place to be overlooked and forgotten; but most of all, a place where I could bury my wife and daughter, and then bury myself right beside them, despite the fact that I was still very much alive.

I’d already built a small shelter at its center, and had been busy in the plans of expanding. It was as good a place as any; and the farther from the city—I’d deemed—the better. She would be safe here until we knew how things were going to unfold with the rest of her kind, but each of my instincts had proved to be pessimistic regarding that painful subject; still, I continued to hope for the best.

But there were several instances, during the first few weeks, when I caught myself thinking:
What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Miles?

I let those questions fade away, along with every day that passed, trusting that what I was doing was right. As the dialogue between us began to flow, and I discovered just how amazingly fast she could learn, a strong and steadfast relationship blossomed almost effortlessly.

I even found myself going through vacant buildings and houses, in search of books and magazines to help feed her insatiable thirst for knowledge. She couldn’t get enough, and her comprehension, which I tested, was just about a hundred percent. She was absolutely amazing—to say the least.

Shortly after the news of her kind’s demise had reached us, and out of a deep respect for the young and vastly talented lady, I’d traded in my guns for something I can’t now recall; for in this world, there’s hardly anything worth the equivalent of two loaded firearms.

And there we stayed, as happy as the end of the world would allow.

I gave her a name, and all she could possibly require to survive, which ultimately led to countless raccoons, miles of wire, conduit, and mechanical trinkets and gadgets to her heart’s content.

Witnessing Alice, in ten years’ time, turn from that frail and trembling teenager to a strong and confident young adult—in hindsight—had truly been a magnificent journey. And as our lips met for the first time and as we embraced each other like never before, a simple clarity washed over me—a kind of peace that bordered on euphoria. All I knew, and all I could seem to comprehend at the moment, was that I felt completely and utterly weightless.

Alice pulled away from me, seeming to enjoy my dumbfounded facial expression, as she giggled slightly.

“That felt good,” she said, “but incredibly overdue.”

I longed for another romantic interlock, but found Alice already lifting herself from my mattress.

“Well, if you’re done moping,” she smiled, “Zeke has something intriguing he’d like to share with us.”

“Roger that,” I huffed, visibly disappointed that I’d not be receiving another kiss, and rose to walk into the hallway with Alice. She took my hand in hers almost immediately, squeezing it with the kind of reassuring warmth that could only be disbursed by a loved one.

Zeke was waiting for us. The robot had learned a great deal about patience over the past few weeks, and therefore wasn’t nearly as fidgety as it had once been, making me reconsider the thing’s potential as a possible loose cannon.

But still I was wary.

“What’s up, Scraps?”

“Company,” the robot said as it spilled a hologram onto the workbench.

The hologram was of a kid on a dirt bike.

He was familiar—his curly, blond hair bouncing around atop his head.

“Timid Timothy,” I muttered. “What memento could you possibly be after tonight?”

“That kid again? You think he’s coming here?” Alice asked.

“I don’t know where else he’d be going,” I shrugged. “Zeke, how long will it take him to get here?”

“About twenty minutes,” the robot answered.

I picked my gun up off the table and concealed it.

“You think you’ll be needing that?” Alice pointed toward the weapon at the back of my jeans.

“Nothin’ wrong with being cautious,” I smiled, starting to head for the ladder-well when the robot moved in front of me. It crossed its arms to demonstrate its defiance. “What are you doing?” I asked it.

“I could use a little fresh air,” it said.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Alice agreed, “me too.” She strapped the new device to her arm and went to stand beside Zeke. “Just being a little
extra
cautious, right, Zeke?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“What?” I was still at a loss for words.

“C’mon, Miles, you know he’s been itching to get out of here since the moment we made him.”

I snorted a sarcastic chuckle. “And you seem to be forgetting that he already got out once, and I’m still hearing about it.”

“We can’t keep him down here forever.” Alice patted the robot on the shoulder. “He’s free, just like me, right?”

I shook my head, “Yeah, but if things get outta hand, I’ll be the guy who’s gotta answer for it.”

“It’ll be fine—just a little fresh air, right, Zeke?”

The robot planted a metallic foot firmly on the first step. “Yes, Ma’am,” it answered, and then started its ascent from the cavern with Alice on its heels.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” I muttered, climbing the ladder behind them.

The evening’s air had a pleasant coolness to it. Even the kinetic entity seemed invigorated by the slight change in climate. Upon its departure, the collapsing sun sent a brilliant burst of color into the darkening sky, as a brightly yellowed moon rose over the hills in its distant wake. The pinks and purples of that creamy, pastel sky had shown down upon our planet and gleamed across Zeke’s mechanical surface. In a way—it was like seeing the kinetic entity for the first time, as certain clusters of its exterior detail became more predominant than the dimly lit cavern allowed. Certainly, if I hadn’t been somewhat used to the robot’s presence, it would have been a frightful sight.

Then there was that otherworldly craft, still just a large speck above the velvet horizon, how it appeared somewhat different than when I’d seen it before. Perhaps an illusion caused by the atmospheric attributes of the steadying twilight, but the craft appeared brighter as night grew close.

The thing hadn’t moved at all. Alice looked up at it immediately after exiting the fridge door, most certainly fighting off an intense urge to toss up her arms and yell for help. But she said nothing—just looked on expectantly.

“We’ll figure it out,” I told her.

She nodded in reply as we continued to look up at the thing for the remaining minutes. Whatever possible answers Alice settled upon during that time had been kept secret from me; I was busy fashioning my own.

Perhaps the thing was a garrison.

Just as humanity had planted a flag into the moon’s rocky surface, maybe someone was staking claim of our lonely planet, sending out this flag, this beacon, to precede their coming. The outcome of that scenario was troubling, of course, but it also brought with it a glimmer of hope.

Soon the high-pitched whine of a small engine was faintly audible, and Alice and Zeke broke off to find some suitable cover. I, too, had found a place to hide, watching as the kid skidded to a halt outside the gate and yelled, “Hey!” at the top of his lungs. I let him call out a few more times before I rounded the lump of junk where I’d taken refuge.

“Calm down, Kid.” I walked toward the gate. “What’s going on?”

Tim let out an immense sigh of relief, letting his dirt bike flop to the ground with a dull thud. “You gotta get outta here, Man,” he said. “They sent me out here to tell you they’re coming back in the morning, and that you better have breakfast ready for them.”

“Breakfast?”

“Yeah, but breakfast or no breakfast, Man, they’re gonna hurt you—bad; so I’m just gonna tell them that you weren’t here, okay? And we never had this conversation, and maybe they won’t come, but you gotta be gone in case they do.” “Why are they coming back? I didn’t do anything.” “You really think they need a reason, Man? They get a rise out of making innocent people suffer, and right now they’re bored, Man. They are very bored.”

Tim picked up his bike again, and as he bent forward, a shiny medallion-like object slipped from his shirt to dangle there from his neck. It was the blue Monte Carlo emblem I’d given him weeks before, turned into a shoddy, makeshift necklace.

“Look, I have to leave now, and I know this is your home and everything, but you really don’t have much here. If they come tomorrow, they’re gonna tear this place apart looking for you; so it’s best you find a new place to live, farther from the city, if you can.”

“There is nothing farther from the city, Tim.”

“There has to be something; the world doesn’t just end at the other side of your junkyard.”

The kid jumped back on his bike, readying the vehicle for operation, as he turned to say one last thing: “I’m sorry.”

And then he was gone—off in a flurry of dust and ignorance. A plume of his kicked-up particles reached me and I waved my hand in front of my face, muttering an expletive. Things were already bad, but they were about to get a whole lot worse. No way could I just pack up and leave. That kid didn’t even know the half of it. His relocation advice was worthless.

I turned to find Zeke and Alice emerging. It was obvious by the look on Alice’s face that she’d heard every word and was extremely put off by the news of our potential morning visitors.

“It’s okay,” I tried to reassure her. “Tim’ll go back, tell ’em I wasn’t here, and hopefully they won’t come out to investigate. We’ll just have to lay low tomorrow, that’s all.”

“Oh, that’s all?” she said sarcastically. “We’ll just have to lay low and that’s all? All we do is lay low, and I’m sick of it.” She stuck a finger out in Tim’s departure direction. “That guy doesn’t even know how much we have to lose here. If they come and start knocking things over, it’ll only be a matter of time before they find something.”

Along with Alice, I, too, was becoming frustrated. “Okay, Alice,” I huffed, “what do you suggest we do then?”

She placed a hand on Zeke. “This isn’t a toaster-oven, Miles; we built him for a reason.”

“Okay,” I nodded, but only in agreement that the machine was in no way a kitchen appliance.

“And contrary to popular belief,” she continued, “the government is not a superpower. Sure they’re arrogant and cocky, but beneath it all, they’re cowards.” Alice rounded Zeke, letting her hand slide gracefully over the machine’s angular shoulders, her slender fingers running the length of its spinal-hydraulic lines. “And how pathetic they would be— up against the havoc that we could bring to them.”

Zeke nodded in marked approval.

As the final golden sliver of sunlight quenched itself upon the ashy horizon, I witnessed a devious smile spreading across Alice’s pretty face. And at the very moment when night surrounded us at every angle, I didn’t know whether to be excited or frightened beyond all hell.

“Sounds to me like you’ve already got something in mind,” I said.

Alice’s smile only widened. “Do you know the Greek myth of Pelops?”