Page 32 of CHOICE Lover
“We’re really going to need to have your hearing checked,” he grumbles.
“I heard you fine.” Now that she’s used to the horse—and a little weirded out—she releases the horn, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to my books, did you?”
He huffs like it’s a stupid question. “No. I told you, I’m not interested in romance.”
“Okay. Well, that’s good.” If he hasn’t read them, he probably isn’t entertaining erotic thoughts, so she can relax. Maybe enjoy this experience, like he suggested.
The horse whinnies, alerting them to an approaching dust storm—wait, are those cowboys galloping toward them? “What type of program is this?—Ahhh!” she screams as gunshots ring out.
The horse rears back, tossing her into Res6’s chest. Metallic pings sound across the room—those can’t be real bullets, right? Maybe she should have researched how future people entertain themselves before venturing out of Res6’s apartment. If healing really is that advanced, maybe a minor gunshot wound is part of the fun. His arms snake around her waist, holding her firmly against him, which isn’t entirely unpleasant. Well, it wouldn’t be if the simulation hadn’t turned into some type of western chase scene. “Is this safe?”
“Completely safe,” he says.
They jostle in the saddle as the horse gallops up a small trail leading to—“Oh my God. That’s a cliff.”
“Looks that way. Fuck!” he shouts.
“Ouch! My leg! Something just hit me.” She rubs the tender spot. Maybe the wordsafehas evolved and means something different than it did during her time. She should probably clarify. “The system won’t actually hurt us, right? That’s not something people do for thrills now?”
Something whizzes past her head, thudding right by her ear. Res6 yelps. “I don’t think so.”
“We’ve got you cornered! Give us the girl, or we’ll shoot!” a rugged, disembodied voice calls out.
What in the Wild West is happening? “You’re already shooting!” she shouts back. Another rubber-like projectile, like a paintball, hits her shoulder. “Damn it!”
“Thanks for catching that!” the voice says. “Let me try that again. Give us the girl, or we’ll shoot you some more!”
A fake bullet pings off the metal horse. “Stop it!”
Behind her, Res6 grunts.
“We won’t stop until we have the wee lass! Hand her over or we’ll send you plummeting to your deaths!”
Did the system’s voice just turn Scottish? This is too surreal. “End program!” she shouts. Nothing happens.
Res6 reaches forward, trying to hit the red switch between the horse’s ears, but with each jarring stride, he misses it. “Can you help me?”
She reaches for it, but his one-armed grip limits her range of motion. “If you let me loose.” She glances up. The cliff is getting nearer. “What do you think happens if they corner us?”
“Let’s not find out.” He squeezes her waist, pressing himself against her back as he attempts another pass at the switch. The horse jolts right as his fingers brush it. “Shit.”
They’re soaring past brambles, dust flying with each hoof strike. Though she knows—well, shethinks—it’s all fake, her heart jumps. Their horse is running full speed toward the cliff edge, showing no signs of slowing down. At the last minute it brakes, sliding as it spins to face their attackers, throwing her and Res6 forward. Her hand darts toward the red switch, and she’s just grazing it when the horse rears back, kicking at the attackers defensively.
They scream, sliding back. Before they fall off the machine, Res6 throws his arms around her and grabs the horn. The horse’s hooves slam into the ground with such force that a fissure forms in the rock at its feet. At least the Scottish cowboys have stopped shooting.
The one sporting a bright rust handlebar mustache and matching rhinestone chaps slides off his horse and inches toward them. He holds his hand out. “Hand her over, partner. Nice and easy.”
“Maybe if I go with him, the program will end?” she asks.
“I’ll never give her up,” Res6 shouts, out of nowhere.
Does he do these simulations often? If so, color her intrigued—just maybe next time, not a low-grade scary one. At least until she’s used to them.
She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
He lifts his hand, pointing a finger gun at the leader. The others step up behind him, and she only now notices they’re all wearing yellow star-shaped badges that say “Deputy Lawman.”
A laugh bursts from her chest. “Wait, Res6—they think you’re the bad guy.”
