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Otto has his hand around my arm and is pulling me to my feet as I keep my gaze on Abe. “He’ll drop me off and come back for you right away, okay? I promise. He’ll bring you back to the pod for repair. I’ll call Henrik on the way.”

Abe gives me a slight nod as I’m pulled far enough to release my grip on his hand. Our fingers continue to reach for each other despite the growing distance between us.

“I’ll be fine,” he promises me.

“You better be.”

A yellow blob flies past me and explodes on Abe’s stomach in a wet mess. Steam rises from the open hole in his torso, sparks flying out of it.

“What the fuck!” I shout, pulling away from Otto.

The biker is now on foot, pulling something from an open backpack on his chest. I see it now as it leaves his hand. It’s a fucking water balloon. This one hits Abe in the head.

Otto lifts me off my feet and takes off in a smooth glide toward the open door of his car, his tentacles weaving over the pavement like it’s ice. He tosses me in the passenger seat before racing around to his side. As he peels out, my side of the car is closest to Abe, and as our eyes meet one final time, he mouths, “Run.”

“Salt water,” Otto mutters once the car straightens out and Abe is in the rearview, the biker standing over him.

“Huh?”

“It’s likely salt water in those balloons. Nothing more damaging to a computer.”

“No,” I whimper, dropping my face into my hands. Bile rises in my throat as I replay the last…however long it was between receiving the amazing news that Ezra is awake and potentially losing the love of my life.

That’s the exact moment I know. There’s no need to dissect it or overthink it. I love him. I’m not sure when it happened; all I know is I’m in deep. Head over heels for my robot boyfriend. And I might’ve just lost him forever.

Chapter 19

Abe

Log entry #7

Day 37 of assignment

Itried. I really did. I did my best to protect her, but it wasn’t enough. There may have been a few times I was able to momentarily block her or pull her out of harm’s way, but that wasn’t the job. It’s not what I wanted. Protecting Emma at all costs meant keeping her safe from premature death for as long as I was able to do so. That was my interpretation anyway.

But my main directive has shifted. After spending time in her presence, I manually changed it. The problem is, I wasn’t able to achieve that goal either. Now my system is shutting down. I can feel the nerves in my feet go dead. In my fingers too.

My thoughts are a jumbled mess of images, most of Emma. Her face. Her smile. The expression she makes when I anticipate her needs and do something for her she didn’t expect. Like she can’t quite believe this is reality.

Just looking at her makes me think the same.

I never got to tell her how much she means to me. How proud I am to have been designed for her, to have existed only for her in the short time I’ve been awake.

A purr sounds from somewhere on the right, and I spot Ziggy trotting out from behind a bush and coming toward me. He lays down next to me, curling up in the space between my ear and shoulder, and I feel his rough tongue run along the side of my head. The side that seems to have taken the brunt of the impact from when the motorcyclist hit me.

I thought I could survive just about anything. Wasn’t that how I was designed? How could one hit from a small man on a motorcycle be what shuts me down?

My eyelids grow heavy as the nerves in my mouth fizzle out. I let the exhaustion take me, glad Emma is with Otto. I hope he’s getting her somewhere safe. I also embrace the small victory of winning over the cat. It’s not everything, but it’s not nothing.

I did my best.

Chapter 20

Emma

“Faster, Otto,” I beg as I maintain my white-knuckled grip on the interior door handle of the car. “Go as fast as you can. Please.” The cut on my wrist continues to bleed, and I wiggle out of my blazer to apply pressure using the sleeve. It’s fine. This will be fine. I just need to make it inside the forest. The tree line will give me cover and the smallest sliver of time to summon the elements. I turn over my shoulder and spot the bomber not even a full car length behind us on his motorcycle. How did he catch up to us so fast?

I assume it’s the bomber, I mean. I suppose it could be an accomplice. Whoever he is, he’s up our asses.