Toys

Chapter 100

“Woof! Rarf! Woof! Rarf!”

The robotic little mutt kept snuffling happily and trying to lick my face as April proceeded to batter me with the toy. Luckily for me, it was programmed so that it had to be affectionate-at least Lizbeth hadn’t modified that too. Meanwhile, Chloe was still chewing on my ankle.

The nightmare I’d tried to shield the girls from was officially in session. Now it was down to damage control-getting them out of this horrifying mess and keeping them safe.

But how could I do it without manhandling them and making things even worse? It didn’t seem possible. So what next-would I have to harm my own little girls?

Then Lizbeth stunned me in a way I never would have expected. She took my side.

“Girls-stop!” she said sharply. “Your father’s not hurting me. Metallico went crazy, and Daddy saved me.”

The girls backed away, their bewildered little eyes taking in the robot’s torn-off arm that pinned their mother to the wall, his sizzled remains that lay on the floor.

Suddenly, April smiled through her tears. “Daddy, you’re better!” she squealed. Then both girls rushed into my arms as if everything were back to normal.

For a few seconds, it actually was. I could have wept. “I am much better, honeys,” I said. “Now go to your room and wait for Grandmere. Everything is going to be fine, I promise, and you know I always keep my promises.” I try to anyway.

Fuzzy had trotted over to Metallico, sniffing and snuffling curiously. I grabbed him before he got zapped, and scooted him off after the girls.

With my heart aching, I watched their bedroom door close behind them. “Don’t think for a second I did that for you,” Lizbeth snapped. “It was for them. I love my children.”

“Lizbeth, I know by now that you wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire. I’m just surprised that maybe you’ve got a shred of decency.”

“I’ll come quietly. I won’t fight you, Hays. No more trouble in our house.”

“Thanks for saying that. But I still trust you like I’d trust a scorpion. Probably less.”

“As you should.” She smiled and nodded. “Just remember your promise-to the girls.”

I jerked Metallico’s hand loose, drawing another gasp of pain from Lizbeth. Then I knotted a towel around her upper arm. Next, I opened the refrigeration unit and swept its contents onto the floor. The unit was just about the size of an old-fashioned coffin.

“What are you doing?” Lizbeth, ever the neatnik, asked.

“Get in,” I said. “In!”

Lizbeth’s murderous glare returned, but she obeyed and crawled inside the empty fridge.

I snapped the door shut, hoisted it onto my shoulder, and headed for the rooftop garage. Once up there, I had to ram the thing through the rear window of our family wagon to fit it inside. It still stuck halfway out, looking like the fin of a marauding shark.

Lizbeth started kicking and pounding, and I could hear her muffled yells.

“Quiet down or you’ll run out of air,” I yelled at her. That seemed to work, at least for the moment, as Lizbeth did the math in her head.

If there was one blessing in all this, it was that I didn’t have to endure the sight of her crying. I took the station wagon airborne and flew out of New Lake City-fast and low-on the most important mission of my life. Or anybody’s life, for that matter.

I was the one entrusted to save an entire civilization, wasn’t I?