Clockwork Firefly

Clockwork Firefly - Chapter Nineteen

They had barely entered the house when Hatchworth was upon them. The usually calm automaton was in state, his bright blue eyes flicking from Peter to the parlor entryway as he wrapped his fingers around Peter's arm. "Come, Peter. Now." He scampered ahead of Peter, making soft noises of uncertainty and nervousness. In the parlor, a man lay sprawled across the sofa, obviously in very dire straits. His head resting on Upgrade's lap, her soft touch petting along his brow with a cloth that even from the door Mary could see was bloodstained. She hung back as Peter walked to the man, kneeling down.

"Anawula, Pe..Peter Walter." the man rasped as he breathed and it was obvious he was working very hard to keep conscious. "You...your father. He has been taken. The bokor. I know ... I know where." His arm fluttered, unwilling to obey his brain's commands, but he finally swung it up and pulled a blood-soaked sheet of paper from his inner pocket. "Tijuana. La...La Mariposa." He panted, softly whimpering as he stared up at the ceiling.

Peter took the paper, unfolding it to reveal a red-stained, but still legible map and address. He laid it aside and took the man's hand. "You'll be alright. I'm sure the doctor has already been call..."

"No. It is too late." The man turned his head, his eyes burning with intensity and panic. "Go. Leave me. Go!" He pushed at Peter's hand and let his fall limp beside him. "The living... those you can help. Legba ... he stands between..." he sighed, his eyes rolling back as his lids fell. He passed from consciousness, and as his breathing slowed further, from this world.

Peter stood and turned, ignoring the sounds of misery now emanating from deep inside the lady robot's throat. He spoke to the room in general, his voice that same clipped and controlled tone that he'd used after the whole Sheik reenactment. "I'm going to go finish this. I will contact you by this time tomorrow. If I do not..." He did not know what to say and so he just stepped to the side and set his hand on Hatchworth's shoulder to draw him aside. The ginger-mustached face betrayed no emotion, to hint at what Peter might have been saying to him, but he nodded twice in understanding before going to the front door and then out.

Peter paused as he passed her in the doorway, looking down at her, and Mary had never seen him like that. Angry, fearful, confused, but wholly determined. "Do not leave this house, Mary. The lads will keep you safe until I come back." He looked up to the other robots, still cradling their musical instruments as they'd been lured from practicing by the uproar.

"I'll bring him home. I promise."

They nodded as one, a stalwart sort of lifting of chins that promised they were all serious in their belief he could do it. A last look around and he frowned, hating to leave them with so much to deal with.

"We'll be fine, Peter. Go." Mary gave a supportive smile with no joy in it. He reached out and though she thought he might touch her cheek, it was her shoulder's outer edge his hand landed on. He held her eyes, his brow furrowed and he seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say, if anything. A moment more and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead near her hairline, then without a word he was stalking back as he'd come, out to the car and with a roar of the engines, he was gone, Hatchworth in the seat beside him.

It was only minutes before they neared the border between Mexico and the United States. Pulling off of the roadside, the engine was shut off. Peter hated that he had to put Hatchworth in the trunk when they crossed the border, but it couldn't be avoided. Explaining why he didn't have a passport would be as difficult as attempting to acquire him one. Hatchworth understood, but after he let him out on the Mexican side, It was obvious the trip had been unpleasant. The wide blue eyes flicked left and right, blinking several times in succession as he straightened, pointedly avoiding looking at the dark place he'd been confined. He adjusted his glasses more than once, calming down until his insides matched the placid demeanor he was portraying. He dusted his jacket and gave a nod, walking when Peter shifted into motion, climbing into the back seat while Peter drove, so to better hide himself from glinting in the sunshine and drawing attention.

"I hope they're alright back at the house. I hated to leave them like that but I couldn't risk waiting. I know I told him I'd stay but ..."

"You had to come. Your father will understand."

He nodded as the car turned the corner and saw what they had come for. La Mariposa Bakery, a worn-down shop with boarded up windows with nothing on either side but an empty lot where once, no doubt, trucks had come each morning to deliver the baked goods around town. Now it was a forbidding edifice that felt, more and more with each passing second, like a trap waiting to be sprung. "This doesn't feel right, Hatchworth. Something's off but I can't put my finger on it."

Hatchworth nodded, the port on his chest cracked open to allow a pair of delicate blue butterflies to flutter out and dance across the space between them before taking off in opposite directions on the breeze. A sheepish sort of shrug, after poking it closed with his index finger. The unintentional slip spoke volumes on his current state of apprehension. He didn't like this either. They drove down the street, turned, came back the other way and parked a half block away. It wasn't as if they were stealthy. If Peter had been thinking he'd have grabbed a cab somewhere else and used it to arrive a little more subtly. A large black car with the Walter Robotics logo on the door... not exactly hiding their arrival.
"Whoever they are, they know we're here, Hatchy." Peter sighed and rested his hands on the wheel. "I don't think we can sneak in. Our best bet is just to ... go through the front door." He turned a bit. "Think me cowardly to ask you to lead the way?"

"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread, Peter. Letting me lead is just good sense." Hatchworth stepped out of the car, trying not to think about all the things that could go wrong. Together they walked toward the building, trepidation and uncertainty brewing as they neared the door.

"Shall we knock?" Peter asked dryly.

Hatchworth grimaced faintly after taking stock of the door and its weaknesses. "Have I said I do not like this part?" And with a look of regret, he drew back and squeezed his eyes shut, lifting one foot then planting it as he shoved his shoulder against the door, shattering the wood to splinters and barreling through, Peter hot on his heels.