Andrew hooked himself into the station and plugged a cable into the robot’s battery.
“Just relax,” Andrew said. “Let the Dreamscape take you. It’s actually very lovely there. Most of the time.”
The room disappeared, and the gray sky opened up. Andrew’s feet found grass, and the wind began to gust around him.
When he got his bearings, he saw that he was somewhere in the hills above the cliffs. His new friend was nowhere to be seen. Andrew wondered if he had connected him to the Dreamscape properly.
A wail rose in the distance—an animal’s cry that had been taken up by the wind. Andrew pulled his sweater tighter and headed for the cliffs.
When he topped the final hill, he looked down and saw the cabin perched above the seething waters. He scrambled down the slope and soon found himself clutching the door handle.
Gentle cries emanated from within the cabin. Andrew threw open the door and burst inside. At the window on the far side of the room stood a woman, her back to him, looking out over the sea. She wore an elegant white dress and held something in her arms.
As the woman turned around, Andrew drew a sharp breath: Angel’s pretty face looked back at him, and she held a baby in her arms.
She smiled shyly, like a new mother.
“Andrew, you came back,” Angel said quietly. “I thought I might never see you again.”
The wooden floor creaked as Andrew walked to her, disbelieving. Was she nothing but an imprint? An amalgamation of leftover code? And in her arms…
“Angel, is that…?”
She nodded, and her golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, which was breaking through the clouds for the first time in days. It gave the room a hazy yellow glow.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” she cooed. “Look at his eyes. They’re the same as yours.”
My son, Andrew thought.
Dr. Hawthorne hadn’t given Andrew the parts to create a friend. He’d given him the parts to create a child.
“Can I hold him?” Andrew asked.
“Of course you can. Here.” Angel passed the bundle of blankets into Andrew’s arms, and Andrew smiled when a little face peeked out at him. The baby’s eyes were like blue emeralds, and they caught the light just before the sun disappeared behind a new storm front. Rain began to patter against the windows.
The howling came again. Closer this time.
“Angel, lock the door, please.”
“Oh, Andrew, don’t be silly. The door doesn’t have a lock. Who would come in?”
Andrew looked at the door and saw that she was right. The sound of the wind grew louder, and so did the distant barking.
“Do you hear that?” He handed the baby back to Angel and looked around the room for something he could use to defend himself and his family.
“What on Earth are you doing?” Angel asked, setting the baby down in his crib. “You’re being ridiculous. We haven’t even named him yet. Can you help me think of a name?”
“Angel, don’t you hear those noises? There’s something out there. Come on, help me block the door.”
Angel shook her head, bemused, but helped him shove a large cushioned chair against the door. She flopped down on it once it was in place. “Come on, Andrew. What do you want to name your son?”
She looked so pretty and carefree sitting sideways across the chair; he couldn’t resist her charms.
“Let me think…” Andrew said. “Charlie, maybe?”
She shook her head. “Too plain. What else?”
“What about Edward?”
“Ugh!”
She threw her hands in the air as a lightning bolt streaked across the sky. White light flashed through the windows, making rectangular patterns on the floor.
Something snarled outside the door, and Andrew heard the scratching sound of claws against wood.
“Angel, get away from the door,” Andrew said slowly.
“Silly, silly,” she muttered, but she got up and went to the other side of the room. Andrew kicked a small table over and jammed his foot down on one of the legs, breaking it off. He picked up the sturdy weapon, appreciating its weight in his hands.
Angel came up behind him and slid her arms around his waist. “I think I’ve got the perfect name.”
A scrape at the door. Long and hard. Another.
Andrew glanced at the crib in the far corner. “Angel, we have to protect him. Do you understand?”
She smiled and squeezed him tighter. “And what’s his name, big boy?” she asked.
Andrew pushed her away as a high-pitched howl split the air.
“Not now, Angel. Aren’t you worried about what’s going on outside?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the door, but nothing seemed to be registering. Maybe she really was just an imprint, completely oblivious to the danger they were in.
“We’re going to be fine,” she said. “Honestly, you worry too much.”
Andrew tried to remain calm, even as he heard more beasts gathering outside. They were scampering back and forth beneath the windows now, as well.
“What do you want to name the baby, Angel?” he asked, trying to calm himself down.
She looked down into the crib, where the baby was sleeping through all the ruckus. Then she looked back at Andrew with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“How about… Danny?”
Andrew took a step away from her and closed his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of howling dogs and raging wind. His heart thundered in his chest. “Angel, I—”
She crossed her arms. “Oh, you don’t like it? But I think it’s perfect, Andrew. I think it’s a wonderful name. I—”
There was a horrible thump on the other side of the room. Andrew looked over, but saw nothing there. And then a shadow crossed the window, followed by another thump.
They’re trying to break through the glass.
“Angel, get Danny. Get the baby. They’re coming in!”
Andrew reached the other side of the room just as the windowpane shattered. A mass of brown fur exploded into the cabin and landed with a thud on the wooden floor, shards of glass raining down around it. The animal got to its feet—snarling, blood dripping from its muzzle where the glass had caught it. The gray and black hair on its back stood on end.
This was no dog, but a jackal.
Andrew froze, locking eyes with the beast. He jerked his head toward the window just as another one jumped through, followed by a third. Foam and drool hung from their jaws as they stalked forward, snapping their teeth at the air. More jackals crashed through the window.
“Get back!”
Andrew swung the chair leg in front of him, but he was outnumbered. He cast a look behind him at Angel. She was standing by the window in her flowing dress, cuddling the baby in her arms. Andrew turned back to the jackals, knowing it was up to him to save his family.
One of the jackals leaped forward and caught Andrew by the ankle. Andrew smashed the table leg into the creature’s ribs with all his force, and it yelped and rolled off of him. The jackal’s eyes shone red as it glared at the weapon in Andrew’s hands.
Andrew stepped forward to strike again—and the jackal’s face flickered, then twisted into something human.
A face.
Andrew recognized that face.
“No.” Andrew shook his head in disbelief. “Not you. Get out of my life.”
The good doctor’s face, perched atop the neck of a jackal, turned its attention to the baby’s crib. It grinned with fangs instead of teeth.
“No you won’t!” Andrew ran forward, swinging his club. The jackal jumped aside, its face its own again, and then the rest of the pack descended upon Andrew as one. They came at him from all angles, chomping and scratching, biting and ripping.