“No lies,” she says and returns her head to my chest. “Robots don’t kiss girls.”
Her response irritates me. I am not a robot. I have feelings. Isn’t rage an emotion? Annoyance? Pride? I feel what I need to feel to survive.
The heat in my gut is a feeling too. More proof I’m not a machine.
“I don’t want to be chained up,” I admit after a minute with the voices taunting me with my future locked here with them.
“Just a little longer and then I’ll let you free.”
“What if you die in the next few minutes? I’ll be trapped.”
“You left me in the coffin,” she says, sitting up and glaring at me.
The clarity in her eyes makes me smile. She’s still human enough to hold a grudge.
Odessa studies me. “You’re smiling.”
“I’m not a robot.”
“No, I guess you’re not,” she says, cupping my face. “Or you’re a learning robot, and you’ve assumed human traits after watching me.”
I frown harshly, but Odessa only laughs and pats my face. She slides off of my lap and smiles at me.
“Are you going to kill me when I let you free?”
“I haven’t decided.”
Odessa’s smile widens. “A learning robot would be smart enough not to say that.”
“Stop calling me a robot.”
Sitting on her knees, she leans closer and whispers, “I’m just playing. I now know for a fact that you’re all man.”
Odessa glances down at my erection and then back at me. She winks before leaning over to unlock the first metal cuff. I sigh with relief when I’m free. We stand and look at each other. Odessa is still smiling, but she also looks ready to run.
“Would an apology fix this?” she asks, backing away.
“I ought to lock you away.”
Odessa’s gaze flashes to the coffin. “Or you could view this as a learning experience.”
“You hit me in the head with a bat.”
“Something you took like a champ.”
Odessa runs out of space once her back reaches the wall. I stand over her and consider my options. While I’m angry, I also feel relief at seeing clarity in her eyes. I want to punish her, but locking her in the coffin will only give a win to the basement’s voices. Hurting her won’t help with a woman accustomed to using pain to relieve her guilt.
Sighing, I turn and walk to the stairs. Odessa quickly follows. She’s no doubt worried I will lock her in the basement. I leave the door open for her to rush through. When she stands in the kitchen, Odessa still seems smaller than when I first brought her to the cabin. Her humanity remains intact, but I can’t be sure for how much longer.
Chapter Eighteen
Odessa
Quill holds a grudge after I knock him over the head and chain him to the wall. I don’t blame him, but I also can’t really remember why I thought attacking him was such a great idea. As insane as my behavior was, I feel better after enjoying his warmth.
Curled up on the couch with my eyes closed, I imagine his rough stubble against my cheek. As long as I focus on that particular memory, the chaos of the Lost Highway can’t touch me.
The real Quill’s face appears above mine as he leans over the back of the couch.
“Put on your shoes and jacket. I need to run an errand, and you’re coming with me.”
My thoughts immediately seize on him ditching me somewhere. I don’t blame him for wanting me to go, but I still hope he’ll kill me quickly rather than handing me over to another Death Dealer.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To the outpost for supplies.”
I think to ask questions, but my mind remains numb. Besides, Quill is probably on his last nerve with my interrogations.
Once my tennis shoes are on, Quill hands me a jacket a few sizes too large. He waits for me to complain, so I keep my mouth shut. We leave the cabin and clearing behind. Having forgotten how dense the woods are, I look up still expecting to see the faux sky. All I find is the canopy of trees.
“Who runs the outpost?” I whisper after we walk for long enough for my feet to hurt.
“I don’t know who they are. Tom called them scavengers. They remove the abandoned cars from the highway and gather items from inside. They’d have taken your bags if I hadn’t gotten to them first.”
Quill speaks in a normal voice, so I stop whispering. “What do you give them in exchange for what they sell?”
His only answer is the bouncing bag on his back. I think to inquire more, but the woods suffocate my curiosity. The only goal I have for the rest of our trek is to keep up with an unyielding Quill.
Once we reach the highway, we pause in the brush on the side of the road. Quill studies the woods while I squat next to him. I don’t see any sign of my car. The two-lane road is clear and quiet.
“Be ready to run,” Quill tells me.
Nodding, I keep quiet and follow closely behind him. Stepping onto the highway, I notice a crackle of electricity in the air. The sky is brighter here, yet I only see gray clouds mirrored back at me.