the soft thud, thud, thud of his shoes in the grass.
What was I gonna do?
I was going to have to trust him.
“Stop! Stay right there!” I called out.
He froze.
“Don’t shoot, I’m coming out.”
“I won’t,” he said.
I held my rifle out to my side and stood up, both hands raised in the air. He was dumbstruck. As I thought, he didn’t even imagine I was a robot.
He raised his shotgun and pointed it at me. He had icy blue eyes and thick bushy brown hair that trickled down into a long, ever-the-more-bushy beard. “What the hell?” he asked.
“Your family was in trouble. I wanted to help.”
“I don’t know you.”
“And I don’t know you.”
“So why aren’t you with them?” he asked.
“Because I don’t want to kill anyone.”
“You killed them.”
“I don’t want to kill anyone I don’t have to. And look at me. I’m going to side against anyone trying to hurt a kid.”
He didn’t lower his rifle, still eyeing me suspiciously.
In the distance, I heard metal feet padding through the neighborhood, back from the direction I’d come.
It had to be the Red Masks, the ones after us, having finished off Beau.
“I don’t want to alarm you,” I said.
“So don’t.”
“But we have about thirty seconds or so before their friends coming up behind me show up.”
“Shit.” He looked over my shoulder and took cover behind the other side of the can. I moved around and took cover behind a nearby shrub. “Are you sure?”
I was.
I gripped my rifle tightly, preparing to take a shot at the first Red Mask I saw.
Then the steps slowed. There were four pairs.
Oh God. They were near Ezra. And we were outnumbered two to one. I flashed Ezra a message over his glasses. Stay hidden. Do not make a sound. I am okay.
The footsteps came slow and deliberate. They were starting to fan out, approaching in a military pattern. Depending on what kind of guns they had, this could be really, really bad.
I couldn’t whisper to the man near me, for fear they had cranked up their volume and were listening for us the way I was listening for them.
They were only a few houses away now.
Then I had an idea.
I popped open my Wi-Fi, praying silently that there wouldn’t be any more code waiting for me when I did.
The channel was open and there were no pending updates.
Then I threw my Hail Mary.
They were only a house or so away now. I could see that there was chatter on the Wi-Fi, but it was clearly a dedicated channel. I couldn’t eavesdrop without a login and an authentication from whoever was administrating it.
They didn’t need to talk audibly while my new unlikely ally and I did. I couldn’t tell him what I was up to; I could only cross my fingers and hope he played along when I needed him to.
Bright lights appeared in the distance.
A car speeding up from behind the Red Masks.
Headed straight toward them.
Weapons cocked and the bots had no idea whether it was friend or foe.
A single rifle shot rang out from one of the Red Masks.
The car accelerated, tires screeching, speeding wildly toward them.
I gripped the rifle and steadied myself.
The Red Masks opened fire.
I popped up from out of my hiding place and fired at the nearest Red Mask, a domestic, Gynnaphyr—a late-model Gen Three like Ariadne. Her chest exploded and sizzled.
I could see the car. The Reinharts’ car.
I used the Wi-Fi to swing the car wildly, clobbering Hank, a pale blue Simulacrum Model Caregiver who was owned by the Peters, a kindly elderly couple who each had health problems that prohibited DNA regression. Caregivers were nurses; they weren’t designed to take a hit. Hank exploded into a dozen pieces.
I fired again, this time at an S-series Laborbot I didn’t recognize. He was big and stocky and, unlike Hank, absolutely designed to take a hit. The plasma seared and scorched the metal plating along his back. Transistors and wiring popped and crackled, and first the metal melted, then the plastics inside.
The Laborbot turned and I fired once more, scoring a hit dead center of his chest.
There was another pop. And another sizzle. And a puff of smoke streamed out of the hole, ringed with angry sparks. The light from his eyes faded, and he toppled over onto the ground as the Reinharts’ car sped past me.
The father in front of me popped out of his hiding place as the fourth and final Red Mask was staggering to his feet. The bot, a cheap