Free Gabriel’s Watch - Book One: The Scrapman Trilogy by Noah Fregger Page B

driven) Jeep Wrangler, along with several very large containers of gasoline. And yet the door’s weakness wasn’t at all in its construction, but rather in the telltale manner in which it gave away my storage chamber. “This could very well be our undoing,” I huffed, stomping down one final time.
    The pitter-pat of soft-falling raindrops tapped and clanked as they collided with various metals and plastics within the junkyard, trickling down to create tiny rivers that would eventually lead to larger puddles. The mood was somber.
    Even that raccoon we’d caught looked immensely solemn, virtually soaking wet and dangling there. It had been completely open to discuss the terms of its surrender. The negotiations were short and its struggle was minimal at best.
    There was a low and penetrating rumble of thunder, like the bellowing of an ancient and evil force, as I descended with the steaks to set on the workbench. Zeke was there, holding Dinah up by the scruff of her neck and close to its face. She hung there, mouth open, but silent and motionless.
    “I don’t think she likes that, Zeke.”
    It looked over as I spoke, and then knelt to place the cat on the floor. She bolted down the hall with an amazing, but clumsy, speed as I heard her smack into a wall on the other end.
    Alice was either not awake, or simply hadn’t been in the mood to see me just yet. I tried not to think on it too much as I wrapped a steak up for myself, tossed it into my satchel, and pulled open the door to our electric cooler. There I retrieved an aluminum canteen, dropping that into the bag as well.
    Zeke observed me tentatively, but there seemed to be a degree of anxiety beginning to brew within the robot, like there was a place it needed to be—some pressing appointment just recalled. Zeke was beginning to make me uneasy. It engaged, it studied, it interacted, but it seemed to be on edge—not walking so much as pacing, reminding me of a time at the zoo as a child, watching a cougar roaming the confinement of its caged habitat.
    The animal had obviously been agitated, treading back and forth with a dripping obsession. I had wondered what it was thinking at the time—had wondered if it would gobble me up if it had the chance.
    And there in the cavern ... some similar questions were returning.
    “Zeke,” I called out, “did you find out where that kid went last night?”
    The robot nodded and scattered a glowing assortment of buildings onto the workbench. It suddenly appeared as though I’d spent the past ten years constructing a detailed miniature section of the city out of glass. Upon further inspection, I found myself looking at a badly beaten and weathered apartment complex. I could even see a few people walking the surrounding premises and roaming the streets beside it.
    Zeke then zoomed in another unknown percentage, focusing on a set of double doors on the east side. I guessed it would lead to a corridor lined with rooms.
    I wrote the cross streets down onto a sheet of notebook paper and shoved it into my pocket.
    “Thanks, Zeke. Just tell Alice I went out for a few hours, okay?”
    The robot shook its head and planted a foot firmly in front of me. “I am no bodyguard,” it hissed, “and I am not your pet either. I can help you.”
    I put my palms up, motioning for the robot to calm down. “Help me with what? Just tell Alice I went to see an old friend.” I pointed to the hallway and toward the woman I’d assumed was still sleeping. “Alice is the one thing you’ll ever have to trouble yourself with. She’s by far the most important thing left on this Earth and I need you to protect her, Zeke. At all cost, I need you to protect her.”
    The robot didn’t budge. It looked at me for a moment before coming to stand directly in front of me, craning its neck to exaggerate the fact that it was slightly taller, as I tried to mask how intimidating the thing really was. It could have snapped me in two just as easily as popping open