I slowly move so that I can check the condition of the motionless duo. Sure enough, their eyes are wide and staring. Well, shoot what a shame. Whatever will we do without Captain Red and his floozy sidekick? Too bad I didn’t get to kick her in the side before she got shot full of lead.
I’m about to get up and creep around the room when a shadow steps through the doorway. I hastily drop back down and lie flat on the floor, watching from under the table. The shadow slowly walks into the room and I’m surprised that I didn’t hear it step through the door. Its legs make a click-hiss, click-hiss sound as it walks. I swallow, recognizing the sound of clockwork machinery. The thing walks up to the bodies and nudges each of them with its booted foot. It then walks over to the chair I vacated. It stops in front of the chair and I hold my breath, hoping that the murderous clockwork thing won’t find me.
To my utter horror, it slowly drops down to one knee. The first thing my temporarily fear-frozen brain realizes as it snaps back into motion is that the thing is wearing grey rebel military-issue pants on very human looking legs. There’s a clunk on the table as something heavy is set on it. I see the machine’s left hand come down to the floor just before it leans over.
I scream as its face comes into view. I open my mouth and utter an ear-piercing cry that is likely to shatter every window in the building.
The clockwork thing yells in surprise and nearly falls over. It’s then that I realize, it’s not a thing, it’s a guy.
He stares at me with wide brown eyes, his dark eyebrows still raised in an expression of surprise. His shaggy red-brown hair lies on his cheek and falls behind his neck as he cocks his head in order to look at me under the table. His sharp nose casts a small shadow over his cheek under the fluorescents . He’s wearing a rebel uniform with black gloves. His face softens and his very human lips twist in a roguish smile.
“Well, well, well…”
I don’t give him a chance to finish. With a cry, I throw my foot out at his arm. The bend between my foot and my leg connects. Pain flashes up my leg as I strike metal. His elbow bends slightly with a small click-hiss but otherwise, nothing happens. I wince and scramble back, pressing up against the wall.
He frowns at me.
“Hey, now, that’s not very nice. After all, we’ve just met.”
I watch him suspiciously as he stands, the gears in his joints grinding. With a small heave, he pushes the table out of the way, leaving me completely open to attack. He offers one gloved hand, but my eyes are fixed on the machine gun he’s now resting on his shoulder like some kind of gunslinger. He follows my gaze and his face twists in mild alarm, as if he just noticed the weapon himself.
“Oh, you’re worried about this old thing?” he taps it with the first finger of his opposite hand.
I don’t move.
“It’s okay; I’m not here to kill you. I just wanna talk.”
He offers his hand again.
My eyes move back and forth between the gun and his hand. I still don’t move, afraid that he’s just toying with me. He sighs and reaches up to touch his ear. I watch as he moves his hair to reveal some sort of earpiece. He presses a button on it and I hear the telltale clicking of more gears.
“Hey, Evan, I need you,” his eyes get that glazed look that indicates the person isn’t all there at the moment.
A voice warbles disjointedly from the earpiece.
“Why?” the question is drawn out like the guy on the other end of the line feels as if he has something better to do with his time.
“I’m need you to hold my weapons, while I talk to, ah…” he momentarily releases the button and his earpiece and looks back at me, “Clari, right?”
I find myself nodding in return. He smiles at me as he pushes the button again.
“While I talk to Clari.”
The guy he’s talking to gives a big dramatic sigh that makes me wanna roll my eyes. I hate guys like that.
“Fine,” he says, as if it’ll be a painful ordeal, “I’m coming.”
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