Stealing a boat is a lot easier than you'd think. We hid out by the marina and waited for the guards to change shifts, then we made our move. We opted for the cheapest-looking speed boat in the harbor, hoping to draw as little attention as possible.
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Katrina used her crowbar to pry open the boat's lock, and we were off. It was that easy.
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I would've turned to a life of crime way sooner if I'd known it was this easy.
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Atlas claimed the captain's seat, and I called shotgun. Katrina hopped onto the seat behind us, and Marisa begrudgingly plopped down in the farthest possible seat from us, with her arms folded.
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Whatever, Little Miss Grumpy Pants, we're completing our quest whether you like it or not. Buckle up and enjoy the ride, sister.
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As we sail away from Ikigai II, all I can hear is the faint vibration of the engine and the sound of lapping waves. The boat bounced in and out of waves as we skimmed across the water. A silver gull flew overhead and let out a high-pitched caw. The bird looked just like the one painted on my arm. Atlas really captured its likeness. Usually, being on a tiny boat in the middle of the vast ocean would terrify me, but right now, I felt calm.
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I looked at Atlas. He looked right at home steering the boat. A warm smile spread across his lips as the breeze ruffled his hair. All he needed was a hat and a few wrinkles, and he'd look like one of the old sea captains you hear about in stories.
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I rested my elbows on the dashboard and leaned towards Atlas. "So, where'd you learn to sail?"
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Atlas briefly removed his hands from the wheel to sign. "This is my first time."
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"Please tell me you're joking."
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A smirk spread across his lips as he shook his head.
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"But you looked like a real sea captain with the wind blowing in your hair and stuff!" I clutched onto the seat for dear life. I can't believe I got on a boat with an inexperienced captain!
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Atlas raised his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. "I'm used to improvising."
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I sat on the edge of my seat, anxiously waiting for the boat to capsize or crash into a lighthouse or some other ghastly fate, but after an hour of sailing, we arrived in Sydney harbor. It was remarkable how fast the tiny speedboat could travel in comparison to the metal behemoth, Ikigai II.
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We opted to sneak past Sydney Harbor security. It was too risky to try to talk to them while we were still coated in Harv's blood. We wanted as little attention as possible until we got the chance to shower.
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Luckily, Marjorie's mansion was right on the coast, so we didn't have to walk far. We kept to the shadows and acted as inconspicuously as two guys drenched in guts could until we reached the estate.
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We gazed up at the thirteen-foot-tall wrought iron fence surrounding the property.
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"How are we supposed to get in?" Katrina asked.
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I tugged at the front gate, trying to pry it open. It wouldn't budge.
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"Oh well, it looks like no one's home. I guess we have to head home and regroup." Marisa spun around and began walking in the direction we came from.
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"No, we don't." Atlas lifted her by the scruff like a little kitten and brought her back.
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She tried to wriggle free, but her attempts were fruitless.
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"Follow my lead." Atlas signed. He hoisted himself up and effortlessly climbed over the barrier, landing on the other side.
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"Wait for me!" Katrina raced up the fence with tremendous speed, like a jaguar scaling a tree. She jumped from the top of the fence and struck a pose when she stuck a flawless landing. Katrina did cartwheels in the grass while she waited for us. "The grass is so soft here, guys! You have to feel it for yourselves."
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I stroked my chin as I studied the fence, contemplating the best way to ascend the towering fence in front of me. I was by no means an athlete of any kind. I worked out just enough to maintain my model physique. Climbing fences wasn't in my workout regiment. I grabbed onto one of the iron rungs of the fence and hoisted myself up. I reached for the closest rung and pulled myself up. The task proved to be more difficult than I expected because my cybernetic arm was much stronger than my other arm. My sad little human arm throbbed and ached as I scaled the gate. My right foot slipped, and I nearly plummeted to my doom. A growing sense of panic clawed at my insides. "Umm, help."
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I felt Atlas reconnect our cerebral link across the distance. "Don't panic, I need you to stay strong for me. I know you can make it."
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"What if I slip?"
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"I'll break your fall."
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"What if I fall in the other direction?"
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"Then you're screwed."
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Somehow, Atlas's words gave me the confidence to complete the climb. I sat atop the thirteen-foot fence like I was a king, and it was my throne.
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I heard Atlas's voice in my head. "You did it! Now come down."
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"Umm, do I have to?" I glanced down and realized how high up I truly was. Coming down from this height would be treacherous.
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"Yes, dumbass. You can't stay up there forever."
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"Maybe I will. There's a very lovely view from up here."
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Atlas wasn't amused. "Get your ass down here, Chase."
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"Alright, alright. I'm coming." I cautiously tiptoed downward, clutching onto the rungs, so tightly my cybernetic fist left a dent in them. Despite my fears, I reached the ground safely. I freaking nailed it!
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Atlas gave me a congratulatory pat on the back for surviving the climb.
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We all gazed at Marisa through the iron bars. She was the only one left on the other side of the barrier.
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Atlas approached the fence. "I'll help you up."
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She shook her head. "No, I'll wait out here for you guys."
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"Don't be ridiculous, we'll be at the party all night. You can't just stand here for hours!" Atlas protested.
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"I won't do it! We can't just break into someone's mansion! We could get arrested!" Marisa protested.
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"C'mon Marisa, everyone's done a little bit of breaking and entering in their lives," Katrina said.
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Atlas nodded in agreement.
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Marisa threw her hands in the air. "I haven't! You guys are way too nonchalant about breaking and entering."
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"We didn't break anything, so it's technically just entering," I added. That's how the law works, right?
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Marisa gazed at Atlas with tears in her eyes. "Do you remember what happened the last time you got arrested? They took you away from me and turned you into...this." She motioned towards his cybernetic parts. "What do you think they'll do if they catch you a second time?"
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Atlas reached through the bars and squeezed her hand.
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Marisa took a step closer and pressed her forehead against the bars. "I just want us to be safe."
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Atlas leaned in, so their foreheads were touching. He tucked her hair behind her ear affectionately, then signed. "I won't let anything happen to us, I promise."
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Their tender moment was interrupted by the wicked witch herself, my beloved Aunt Marjorie.
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"Oh goodness! What on earth is going on out here?" She pulled a gun out of her purse and aimed it at us. "You crooks chose the wrong mansion to steal from!"
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I raised my hands in surrender. "Don't shoot! It's just me, Chase Huxley."
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Aunt Marjorie pursed her lips and tightened her hold on the pistol. "I don't know anyone named Chase Huxley."
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I clenched my teeth. "Don't be silly, Aunt Marjorie. You invited me."
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She quirked up the corners of her mouth into a wicked grin. "I'm quite certain that I don't have any relatives with that name."
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I clenched my fists. My dear aunt always knew how to push my buttons. "I have my invitation right here." I tossed the card in her direction.
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She caught the invitation in one hand. She squinted her eyes as she read the fine print. "No, no, no, this invitation was meant for my sweet nephew, Charles Hubbersley."
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The sound of my birth name made me cringe. I pasted a fake smile onto my face. "We've talked about this, I go by Chase now." But she already knew that. She was trying to antagonize me.
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Katrina tried and failed to suppress her laughter. "Your real name is, Charles Hubbersley?"
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"That is not my name. I paid three hundred sixty credits to be called Chase Huxley, and I expect all of you to respect the name I've chosen." I bit back my anger. Aunt Marjorie wanted to rile me up, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing me snap.
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Katrina stopped laughing, but Aunt Marjorie wasn't finished trying to provoke me. "My nephew Charles isn't some brutish cyborg. He's quite the handsome human. He's a model, you know."
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It took all my willpower to keep my anger in check. There's no way she hasn't seen my fight against Vindicator by now. She knows what I look like now, and she's using it to hurt me.
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Atlas shot me a look so full of genuine sympathy it gave me the strength to stop myself from sucker-punching my elderly aunt in the jaw.
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"This is what I look like now. I know you've seen the footage of me at the Cybrawl; everyone has, so you can stop playing dumb." I said with a touch of venom in my voice.
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Aunt Marjorie let out a sigh. "Oh yes, the Cybrawl, I heard all about your epic failure. I expected better from you."
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"I didn't get killed, so I see it as an absolute win."
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Aunt Marjorie gave up her façade of cordially. "Why the hell are you here, Charles? I know you hate me. So, why have you come all this way?"
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"I was in the area and desperately in need of a place to shower, if you haven't noticed." I motioned towards my blood-soaked clothes. "I was hoping you'd be hospitable and let us clean up before the party." It wasn't a total lie, that was one of the reasons I was here. It just wasn't the only reason.
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She puckered her lips into a pout. "Fine. You can come in, but I'm going to be very busy making preparations for tonight's party, so stay out of my way, Charles."
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I nodded agreeably. "We promise to stay far away from you."
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Aunt Marjorie signaled for the guards to open the gates and allow Marisa in.
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As we walked inside, I overheard Aunt Marjorie whispering to one of the security guards. "Please activate the high voltage on the fence. We don't want any more trespassers getting in here."
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The guard nodded and walked away.
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I escorted everyone to the guest rooms upstairs, where we got ready. Atlas and I cleansed ourselves of Harv's guts while the girls picked out their outfits for the party.
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When I stepped out of the bathroom, Atlas was there waiting for me. He sat cross-legged on the bed with a notebook and charcoal pencil in hand, sketching the seaside view from outside the window. He'd stolen an old T-shirt and shorts from my closet. This is the room I used to stay in whenever my family came to visit, so I keep a bunch of old clothes here, so I don't have to pack. Most of the clothing was from when I was in high school, so they'd be a bit small on me, but they should fit Atlas's lanky frame.
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"Umm. Hey. What are you doing in my room?" I asked.
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He perked up at the sound of my voice and reactivated our cerebral link. "I didn't feel safe wandering the mansion alone, so I came here."
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"Why are you using the cerebral link?" I asked him using my thoughts. "I thought you hated it."'
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Atlas subtly pointed towards several nooks and crannies around the room. "The entire place is bugged and there are hidden cameras everywhere. She's listening to everything we say."
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"Dammit! Of course, she bugged my room! God, I hate her so much!"
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"What'd you expect from Bionic Corp's CEO?"
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I shrugged. "Yeah, this is pretty in character for her,
I waved him over towards the closet. "Get over here. We have more important things we need to discuss."
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"Like what." He jumped off the bed and met me by the closet doors.
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"Like what you're going to wear to the party tonight"
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Atlas rolled his eyes. "Of course, that's what you consider important."
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"Hey, this is a high-class event, and we must blend in with the crowd. I'm obviously more qualified to give fashion advice." I gestured towards his outfit. Doesn't he know red denim went out of style in the 2040s?
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Atlas smirked. "Whatever you say, Charles."
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"Don't call me Charles, that's not my name anymore."
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Atlas shot me a questioning look. "Why'd you change it?"
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I scoffed. "Because it was lame. What kind of famous person is named Charles?"
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He listed off names. "Charles Barkley, Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin, Charles Xavier, Prince Charles, Charlie Chaplin, Charlie Sheen, Charlie Bucket, Charlie Brown, Charlie the Tuna, Chuck Norris, Chuck E. Cheese..."
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"Okay, I get it!" I plopped down on the bed next to Atlas, and let out a deep sigh. "The truth is, I never liked myself, even when I was still handsome."
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"Why not?"
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I sifted through the closet searching for something that would compliment his complexion. I shook my head. "It doesn't matter, my backstory is nothing compared to yours. You don't want to hear about my minor problems."
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Atlas gazed at me earnestly. "No, I want to know. I've told you things that my own family doesn't know. It's only fair you tell me about yourself.
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"Ugh, fine." Why did he have to be so damn convincing? "The first thing you should know is, I have severe ADHD." I peered at Atlas to gauge his reaction.
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"Yeah, I've suspected that for a while, you seem a bit scatterbrained."
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"Scatterbrained!" I huffed. "My brain is perfectly unscattered, thank you very much."
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"Stop trying to dodge my question. Why do you hate yourself?"
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I broke eye contact and resumed fiddling with the clothing hangers. "I've always felt like such a burden, no one knew how to handle my endless amount of energy or my larger-than-life personality. All my teachers hated me. My parents never said anything, but I could tell they were so disappointed in me. I didn't ask to be a failure, you know?" I pulled a black suit jacket with gold details off the rack and studied it to escape the weight of Atlas's sympathetic gaze. I don't want him to pity me. "Well, everything changed for me when I got to high school. I got noticed by the popular kids. They thought I was entertaining enough to keep around. For the first time ever, people wanted me around. I fit in, and it felt good." A small frown spread across my lips, as I reflected on my high school experience.
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"You don't look very happy," Atlas observed.
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"I had to sacrifice a lot to be popular. In exchange for a little bit of praise, I became a bully. I was addicted to the validation they gave me, I couldn't quit even when I wanted to."
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"Was it worth it?"
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"Of course not. I was such an ass, and I owe apologies to a lot of people. I changed my name because I wanted to forget everything about myself. I wanted to become someone else." I gazed at my reflection in the closet mirror. "I'm starting to think my scars are some sort of karmic justice for being an awful person. Now I'm ugly on the inside and the outside."
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Atlas traced the lines of my scars. "You're not ugly, Chase."
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I pulled away. "You don't need to spare my feelings, I know what I look like," I said, motioning towards my reflection.
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"I like the scar. It adds character. You look like the badass protagonist of a gritty action film."
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I let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah well, the modeling agency won't like it."
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"Have they contacted you since the accident?"
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My shoulders slumped. "No, they've probably replaced me already."
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"Don't give up hope yet. Maybe they've been trying to contact you, but they couldn't because your Holowatch was broken."
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I shot him a doubtful look, but he didn't waver.
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"My agency has never hired a cyborg model before!" I argued.
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"Exactly, there's a gap in the market for models like you."
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"Jeez, you sound just like my friend, Mason."
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"He's right."
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I rolled my eyes. "Whatever." I threw the black and gold jacket, along with matching black pants and a white button-up, at his face. "Now go try these on."
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He caught the clothes in one hand and shot me a knowing look. "Just, think about what I said, okay? I know plenty of cyborgs who would love to see a cyborg model."
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I waved him away. "Yeah, I'll think about it."
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After I heard the bathroom door close, I ransacked the closet for something to wear. After several minutes of searching, something shiny caught my eye. I walked over to examine it. It was a showy white blazer with gold accents that glistened, so brightly it hurt my eyes. I'd completely forgotten I owned this. I only wore it once. It was to Jaxon Wan's Halloween Blowout. I used it as part of my sexy Prince Charming costume. My personal stylist forbade me from ever wearing it in public again. She said it was far too ostentatious. In my opinion, it wasn't nearly flashy enough, but I obeyed my stylist's orders and banished it to the depths of my aunt's closet. I contemplated trying it on again. Screw it! My life has gone to hell anyway. I might as well wear what I want. I slid on the blazer and studied myself in the mirror. It looked so tacky and garish. I love it!
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Atlas hesitantly stepped into the closet. "How do I look?"
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As I suspected, the suit fit him perfectly, almost as if it was tailored for him. He'd also neatly parted his hair to the side and concealed the perpetual dark circles around his eyes.
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"I think you should become America's next top cyborg model, instead of me. You pull off that suit way better than I do." I admitted. "You should keep it."
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"I don't need it. I never dress up." He said.
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"Never?"
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"I haven't worn a suit since my parents' funeral," Atlas confessed.
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"Wow, way to kill the mood with your tragic backstory, Atlas."
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"Sorry."
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"Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you." I reached into a cardboard box and gently removed the tissue paper surrounding the gift. "Ta-da!" I proudly displayed a ruby-red silk scarf. "I couldn't let you wear your dingy old scarf to an event like this."
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Atlas grinned. "You thought of everything."
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"Yeah, I'm pretty great, aren't I?" I glanced down at my outfit. "So, are you going to compliment me, or what? I complimented you. It's only fair."
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He glanced me up and down. "Um, your jacket is very shiny."
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"I know, right?" I did a little spin to showcase the blindingly bright accents. "Are you ready for the party?" I asked.
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Atlas nodded. "I think so."
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We heard a faint scratching sound coming from the doorknob.
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"What's that sound?"
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Atlas twirled his knives and soundlessly crept towards the door. "Someone's picking the lock."
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I held my breath.
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"I don't have time for this!" A familiar voice said from the other side of the door. With a loud crash, the bedroom door was kicked open. Adrien Kumar strolled into the room, followed by Gabriel St. Martin.
281Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRVCLRdrtoH
"Well, that's one way to open a door," Gabriel said.
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Adrien nodded towards us. "What's up, assholes."
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Atlas gripped his knives.
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"What the hell do you want?" I asked, even though I was pretty sure I knew the answer.
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Gabriel shut and locked the door. "Hello, Curseword. We need to talk."
ns 15.158.61.6da2
