Page 30 of Dustwalker

His purpose wasn’t in this place, wasn’t with her. The key to his programming lay somewhere in the ruins of the world. It was somewhere in the Dust, waiting for him, and hehad to seek it out.

But didn’t Ronin deserve a respite, after so many days in the wastes?

Didn’t he deserve this one little diversion?

CHAPTER NINE

Lara pulled the curtain open and stepped out of the tub, mindful of her footing this time. Her skin was sensitive after the scrubbing she’d given it, tingling at the air’s gentle touch. She tugged a soft cloth, which was like a too-small blanket, from a rail on the wall and wrapped it around herself to absorb the water from her skin.

From the corner of her eye, she saw something move.

She jumped, afraid Ronin had reentered, and nearly slipped again. But it had just been her reflection in the foggy glass over the wash basin.

A bit jumpy, Lara?

After allowing her heart to slow, she leaned closer to the mirror and wiped off some of the condensation with the end of the cloth. The face looking back at her was both familiar and foreign. She’d seen her reflection puddles and in the market’s murky windows growing up, and Tabitha had obtained a small mirror a few years ago that Lara had borrowed often, but the last time had been months ago…and none of those had ever been as clear as this.

Her wet hair was several shades darker than normal, framing her heart-shaped face in a tangled mess. Gently arched brows rested over her wide blue eyes. She parted her lips as she ran the tip of a finger down the bridge of her narrow nose. The hot water had pinkened her pale skin. Her cheekbones and collarbones were more pronouncedthan she remembered, but that didn’t surprise her. Food hadn’t exactly been plentiful lately.

It served as a reminder of her lingering hunger.

Lara trailed her fingertips from her nose to the tiny brown spots on her cheek. Freckles. They were sprinkled across her cheeks, nose, and arms, and were scattered over the rest of her body. During childhood, Tabitha had called them kisses from the sun.

Growing up, Lara had often been told she was beautiful. Other women used beauty to their advantage, flaunted it to feed themselves. That meant doing things Lara was unwilling to do, at least apart from the one time…which wouldneverhappen again.

With those painful, repulsive memories threatening to rise, she pressed her hands onto the counter. Her palms settled atop soft fabric. Looking down, she found the shirt Ronin had left. She picked up the garment and held it out in front of her. It looked huge.

Lara pulled it on, and surely enough, the hem fell to her knees. But that didn’t matter. It was warm and dry, much better than her other options—putting her sopping wraps back on or going out there with nothing but the too-small blanket around her body, clutching its corners with one hand to ensure it remained in place.

After gathering her discarded clothes from the floor, she rinsed them thoroughly in the tub, wrung them out, and hung them over the curtain rod to dry.

Why did Ronin have all of this? Why did he need beds, running water, and toilets? She assumed he cleaned his outer skin, but that could be accomplished easily with a rag and a bucket of water, couldn’t it? And she was pretty sure bots never had to take a shit or piss.

After she finished, she picked up her knife and lighter, opened the door, and peered into the hall. Light seeped beneath the closed door at the far end. That had to be Ronin’s room.

Lara returned to her room, closing the door quietly behind her, and padded to the bed, where she slipped her knife beneath the pillow. There was no way she’d be sleeping without protection.

When she moved to the drawer case—dresser, she corrected herself—she set the lighter atop it and opened her bag. Taking out the packages of food, she hurriedly opened one of them. Plucking a potato wedge from within, she shoved the whole thing in her mouth. It was cold and a little chewy, but it tasted heavenly.

She devoured five more pieces of potato, several mouthfuls ofcarrots, and two slices of smoked meat before she forced herself to stop.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, placing her hands on her stomach and closing her eyes. It hurt to be so full.

And it was amazing.

She was tempted to eat more, but she likely would’ve puked. After a lifetime of scant meals, she couldn’t stand the thought of being so wasteful, and Ronin had said the food was for tonight and the next morning anyway. She needed to save the rest.

Begrudgingly, Lara rewrapped what remained and set it aside.

To keep herself from thinking about food, Lara removed the treasures from her bag. She stared at them for some time, considering the best way to arrange them in her new space. Finally, she tossed her bag aside and set to work, moving some of the items several times before their placement seemed right.

She frowned when she lifted the picture frame. Water had stained it, damaging the color in a few spots. Just another thing on the verge of destruction. It had truly become part of her world now. She propped it up against the wall. The faces were undamaged, at least, and nothing that happened to the photo could change the joy it had captured.

Lara returned to the hallway. Ronin’s light was still on, and the door remained shut. They could work out the details of their deal another time. Eager to explore the house, she walked to the stairs and went down.

The only furniture in the main room was a low, long table with a sturdy wooden chair drawn up to it. A few hand tools lay scattered on the table’s surface, and there was a clamp of some kind attached to it on one side.

The wood floor was cold as she turned and padded through the wide opening opposite the front door. After a bit of searching, she found a light switch. The lights blinked to life to reveal another strange room.