CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Bonnie had never really travelled anywhere before, but this wasn't what he thought travelling would be like. It wasn't supposed to be a joyride, he knew that. And being trapped in a box not much bigger than the Vault where they were stored between pizzerias wasn't the start of what anyone would call a fun time. Still, he was finally seeing some of the real world beyond what Ana called the Edge of Nowhere and he wanted to enjoy some of it, because that was sure never going to happen again.

Ana had cut little slots in the side of the truck so they could see outside, making sure that they all had one directly behind them on the benches, so they didn't have to get out of their restraints when the truck was moving. Although Bonnie appreciated the gesture, he didn't use his very much and whenever he did, what he saw didn't look a whole lot different from what he'd been looking at all his life. The snowy mountain (with all its curvy roads on the outside of the truck and Foxy barfing up his boots on the inside) had some different trees and some soft blues and greens that were interesting for a while, but then they came right back down into the same dull red desert he thought they'd left behind in Mammon.

In fact, Chica was the only one who got any real use out of the little windows. She spent the whole trip peeking out and exclaiming over what she saw, oblivious to the complete lack of excitement from the rest of them. Foxy spent the whole time either puking or trying not to before Ana shut him off, and Freddy was so deep in his own head that he might as well have been shut off, too. Bonnie tried to fake some enthusiasm whenever Chica gushed over whatever stupid landmark caught her eye outside, but his thoughts, as always, were with Ana.

After the last stop, she said it would be another hour before they got to Yoshi's place. Bonnie's internal clock had popped up in the corner of his vision when the restaurant 'opened,' and she was right: Exactly sixty minutes after she started driving again, Chica said, "I think I see it. MechaTech, right?"

"I don't remember, but that sounds familiar."

"She's slowing down," Chica said, fingertips nervously tapping at the wall of the truck as she peered outside. "This is it."

Freddy roused himself out of his funk when the truck turned off the paved road onto an uneven gravel drive and looked out the window behind him for the first time on the whole trip. "I'm on the wrong side, I think," he said. "What does it look like?"

"Um…well…there's a building," Chica said dubiously.

Bonnie unbuckled himself and got up.

"What are you doing?" Freddy said sharply. "Wait for the truck to stop! You'll fall!"

"Relax, we're going, like, a tenth of a mile an hour. Aaaand we're stopped." Bonnie pushed Foxy's body off to one side so he could use the window behind him. "There is a building," he confirmed. "And a house. They both look kind of sketchy to me."

They did, too. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but he suspected most cutting-edge animatronics experts didn't operate out of the basement of their money-mansions, so he'd been braced for a simpler set-up. This was simple, all right. This was just a big metal box with one human-sized door and two car-sized ones, and a couple square windows so filmed over by dust that they might as well be part of the wall. The sign Chica had mentioned was just a lightboard with individual letter-tabs spelling out the name and a phone number, the sort of thing that had been common enough once upon a time (they'd had one like it at High Street), but which was now old-fashioned and a little trashy.

The house that shared the gravel driveway was smaller than the shop. To Bonnie's eye, it might even be smaller than the dining room back home. A couple curtained windows, peeling paint and a dented screen door set in the middle of a sagging front porch with cinderblock stairs were the best of its few features.

From what Bonnie remembered of the night his vocal coil had to be changed out, the guy actually knew his stuff, so maybe he was just so confident in his skills that he didn't care about appearances, but wow. The best that could be said about this place was that it looked like someone didn't know how to market himself very well; at worst, it looked like it might have teenaged bodies hanging on hooks in the back. Or maybe Bonnie had been watching too many horror movies lately.

The driver's door opened and Ana climbed stiffly down. She paced a few steps away, looking at the building, looking at the sign, looking back at the truck. Her eyes unerringly found Bonnie's. She frowned, giving her chin a little get-away-from-the-goddamn-windows jerk before she headed for the house.

Chica immediately turned her head around to face forward and put her hands on her knees. She slumped, letting her head loll over her chest, and shut her eye-lights off.

Bonnie watched Ana knock once…twice…pace around…knock again. She went to the workshop next and knocked on that door too, with the same result. "Looks like no one's home," he remarked. "Think we got the wrong place?"

"What are the odds of there being two MechaTechs in one town?" Chica asked reasonably, talking through her speaker without moving.

"I don't know. There's four Freddy Fazbear's Pizzerias in Mammon," Bonnie retorted. "What are the odds of that?"

Chica tsked, which she did a lot on the rare occasion that she couldn't think of an answer. "Sit down and go dark before someone sees you."

Bonnie peeked out the viewing-slot once more time—Ana was now talking on her phone—then returned to his bench and slowly strapped himself in again. "Does she look okay to you?"

"Not really," Chica whispered. "But I don't think it means anything. She didn't sleep much last night and it's been a long drive."

"I know what tired looks like on her," Bonnie argued. "This is different. She looks sick."

One of Chica's shoulders hitched in a tiny shrug. "Maybe she caught a cold. It's getting to be that time of year, but I still don't think you need to worry. Ana knows her limits."

"Since when?" Freddy grumbled, only to immediately dismiss his own words. "In addition to Chica's excellent points, I also suspect she may have been hurt more than she wants to let on and she's obviously upset about…about the things she had to do that night. She just as obviously does not want to talk about any of that and prior experience has proven that nothing good happens when I confront her with my concern. Add this—" He swept an arm outward, indicating the whole grim scene in the back of the truck. "—to that, and anything I or you or anyone says becomes the trigger to an explosion. This is not the time," he said, letting his eyes flash to emphasize his quiet words. "Ana may not always know her limits, but I know mine, and I'm right at the edge of what I can cope with. So I'm asking you, for my sake, if not for Ana's, please just let it go."

Bonnie gave in with a reluctant nod. Freddy was right about there being a time and a place for big talks, and Chica was right about stress not making anyone look their best, and probably even Foxy would be right about something if he was awake right now. Everyone was right except Bonnie, who could not shake the feeling that there was something else at play here. She might be sick or hurt or tired or stressed, but all of these things were just toppings on a sinister pizza, and yeah, that was a stupid metaphor, but it also worked. Whatever this was, it was the foundation, the solid crust completely hidden under the melty mess of everything else that was stuck to it, and the more Bonnie thought about it like that, the more he realized Ana had been eating it for a long time.

Or maybe he was wrong and it really was all about whatever had happened Halloween night. Maybe when they were home again, when all the drama with Freddy's legs was over and her bruises were healed and it was just the two of them watching one of her dumb horror movies late at night, maybe then she'd even want to talk about it, but more likely, she'd just pretend nothing had ever happened. And who was Bonnie to say that was the wrong way to handle it? He'd killed so many people and dumped so many bodies over the years, and yeah, it used to bother him. Hell, he used to go through their pockets afterwards, trying to find out who they'd been, if they had families…all that crap. He didn't do that anymore. He couldn't even remember when he'd stopped. Did that make him a monster? Well, probably, but did he feel like one? No, and he didn't feel bad about that either. As Ana herself had said, the only thing that ever bothered him about all that was how easy it was to get over it.

He'd changed. They all had. They were all just walking, talking manifestations of the damn quarry, which looked no different on the surface after twelve years of dumping bodies (twelve years that Bonnie had been doing it anyway; it made such a great dumping place that he wouldn't be surprised if someone told him the playthings from Mulholland and High Street were down there, too), but whose still waters had been poisoned and turned tar-black by the bones slowly filling it up.

Bonnie looked down at himself, tracing the widest crack in his chest with the tip of one bare metal finger, thinking of that night when he'd fallen into the quarry. Not so much the falling-in part, which was pretty nightmarish, or the climbing out, which was even worse, but standing in the kitchen after it was supposedly all over, with his error log telling him a critical failure was imminent and no way to let anyone know. If he hadn't had the alert literally flashing across his vision in bright red letters, even he wouldn't have known. He didn't know how to say any of that to Ana in a way that would make sense, and he knew that if he tried, she'd just tell him she was fine, and she might even think she was telling the truth, but that was the point, wasn't it? It was possible to be broken and not even know it.

These troubling thoughts were interrupted when another vehicle suddenly pulled in, tires spitting out gravel as it braked too hard next to the truck. A door opened. A man called, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I got a call to quick replace a compressor—fifteen minute drive, two minute job—and I figured the surest way to get you to show up was to go do it! And hey, it worked! Here you are!"

"I know I'm late," Ana replied, boots crunching closer. "Weather was crazy and construction was everywhere. I had trouble finding an open pass."

"Yeah, it's always pretty bad this time of year. All the more reason to get this done and get you on your way again before you're forced to move in with me until spring." After an awkward silence where shared laughter had obviously been expected, the man cleared his throat, clapped his hands once and said, "Okay, so! Can I see them?"

Two pairs of boots came around to the back of the truck. The lock rattled—a last warning to those inside to get their game faces on. Bonnie kept his eyes open, but let his limbs go slack. The next thing he knew, a great wedge of sunlight came slanting in as the door rolled up.

"Whoa."

"Yeah. They're in a condition."

"No, I mean…just…whoa," the man said again, respectfully. He climbed into the truck and came straight to Bonnie, staring with smiling wonder into Bonnie's unresponsive face, unaware that Bonnie was staring back at him. "They're a lot bigger than I thought they'd be."

'And you're a lot smaller,' thought Bonnie. All humans were small compared to him, but this guy? Tiny.

Well, okay, that was an exaggeration, but Yoshi was definitely on the short side for a guy, thin and kind of soft-looking. From a distance, he might even be able to pass as a teenager, with his slight frame and that fairly ridiculous attempt at a beard he had going on. Up close, it was obvious he had some years on him, though. There was a little grey coming in at his temples, vividly contrasting with his otherwise black hair, which he wore straight and loose and a little long. Behind a pair of wire-rim bifocals, his eyes were edged in fine age-lines, but were still bright with boyish curiosity.

First impressions could be deceiving, but Bonnie thought he looked like a fun guy. Not charming, the way the Purple Man used to be, when he was in a 'fun' mood, but easy-going and cheerful. And Bonnie didn't care, but if he did, he'd also notice the guy was probably handsome and definitely human and judging from his intense interest as he examined Freddy's exposed mechanisms and the distinctive seven-pointed leaf emblazoned on his tie-dyed t-shirt, he shared at least two of Ana's M-related hobbies.

Yoshi turned away from Bonnie at last, reaching out to rub his fingers over the Velcro tabs glued to the top of Freddy's head. "So," he said, grinning. "I don't suppose you know what you've got here?"

Ana shrugged. "One of those singing animal bands from some discount Chuck E. Cheese."

"Nothing discount about these guys," Yoshi told her, now pulling Freddy's head toward him to look at the back, then picking up and closely inspecting one of Freddy's hands, all while Freddy held very still and silent, apart from the fluxing of his pupils—blue and black, blue and black. "Where did you say you found them?"

Ana's face went perfectly blank, but Bonnie could see the gears in there frantically turning, trying to remember what she'd told him months ago.

The silence was noticeable. Yoshi glanced at her curiously. "You said it was a storage unit? Where?"

"Uh…someplace up by Salt Lake. I don't remember the actual name of the town or the storage place, sorry."

"Go on," Yoshi said when she stopped talking. "There's got to be a story in this and I'm dying to hear it."

"No story. I needed some quick cash, so I rolled the dice. I got, like, ten units for a hundred bucks, which should have told me something about what I was getting. Mostly boxes of clothes and books, cheap furniture and clunky old computers. It was all pretty much worthless," she said, glancing at Bonnie with a hint of apology in her eyes. "I didn't even make enough on the sales to cover the cost of hauling everything else to the junkyard, but that's what you get at auction, you know. A gamble."

"But when you opened up the last unit," Yoshi prompted with a dramatic flourish, "you hit the jackpot."

"It was the third or the fourth, actually, not the last. But yeah, I found them. And they made it worth it, even if I couldn't sell them."

"Was there anything in there with them?"

"Just their spare parts."

"Nothing else? No installation materials, like a show stage or something? Any props or backdrops? Any clue as to where they came from?"

"There's no logos or serial numbers anywhere on them that I can see, so…some guy's garage, I guess."

"Not a chance. A lot of money went into making these guys. A lot of money. Someone had a plan for these guys and someone expected a payoff."

"A lot of money goes into building model trains and collecting trading cards, too, but it's still just a hobby."

"Not buying it," Yoshi said cheerfully. He picked up one of Freddy's legs and turned it so the sole of the foot was facing up. "Look at this wear. Here…here…everywhere. Things deteriorate in storage, but they don't erode. Whatever these guys were built to do, they were doing it. For a long time. So where would you put a singing animal band? It's got to be a restaurant or a theme park, right?"

Ana shrugged with pretty convincing indifference. "Maybe. What's your point?"

"My point is, somebody out there has to have seen them. Somebody remembers them. Don't you even want to know who they are?"

"I already know who they are," said Ana and nodded at Freddy. "That's Barry."

Yoshi's rising excitement visibly deflated. He stared at her, oblivious to Freddy's eyes shifting to stare at her too. "Barry?"

"Yeah. Apparently of Barry-and-Carrie fame."

Both Yoshi's and Freddy's eyebrows raised.

"Carrie?" Yoshi echoed.

Ana hiked a thumb back at Chica. "Carrie the Canary."

"Oh!" blurted Chica.

Yoshi attempted to turn toward her and jump back at the same time, both from a squatting position, to the effect that he sort of flailed and fell into Freddy's chest, staring at her. "They're on?" he gasped. "You didn't tell me they were on!"

"They're always on," said Ana, glaring at Chica. "I put them on standby, but they get triggered easily by certain phrases or situations. Say hello, Carrie."

Chica offered up a friendly wave and bellowed out, "HI THERE! I'M CARRIE!"

Freddy heaved a small sigh, then snapped on his eye lights and waved as well, rumbling, "AND I'M BARRY! AND WE'RE GOING TO SING A SONG!"

"No, we're not! Suspend showtime and standby," Ana said loudly, and as Freddy and Chica both shut off their eyes and slumped again, added, "They're a little buggy."

"Yeah, I see that," said Yoshi, picking himself out of Freddy's lap. He looked up at Bonnie, then turned all the way toward him with a broad grin. "Who are you?"

Well, okay. He could play along. Bonnie switched on his eyes, waggling his ears as he dialed up the volume on his speaker to reach all the little kiddies in the back row. "WELL, HI THERE, LITTLE COWBOY!" he boomed. "I'M BUSTER! WELCOME TO BUSTER'S BURGER RANCH, HOME OF THE BUSTER BURGER!" He hyucked out some of his stage-laughter. "NOW LET'S GIVE A BIG OL' TEXAS-SIZED ROUND OF APPLAUSE TO PERCY THE POLITE PIRATE, WHO'S GOING TO COME ON OUT AND SING YOU ALL A SONG ABOUT HIS TWO FAVORITE WORDS, PLEASE AND THANKS!"

"Knock it off, Buster," said Ana, rubbing her face.

"Hey Percy!" said Yoshi and waited expectantly while Foxy continued to slump, unresponsive. After a few seconds, he seemed to notice Foxy's chest plate was slightly open, with Ana's sweater keeping it from closing. He reached, only to have Ana step in front of him. "Is he broken?" he asked. "Why's he shut off?"

"What did I just say? You can't shut them off. I only put him to sleep for the ride."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?" She pointed at Foxy's hook. "I didn't want him glitching out and waving that thing around, especially with Carrie strapped down right next to him. And before you ask, I didn't put them all to sleep because when they're completely out, they don't self-correct for balance, so when I take a tight turn or hit a bump, they bang around and can potentially do some serious damage to themselves. I didn't have time to find better restraints and I can't wrap them up too much, because they need decent air flow or they overheat. Any other stupid questions?"

"Uh, no," said Yoshi, obviously taken aback.

Ana bared her teeth, rubbing at her temples. "Sorry. I have a splitting headache. I don't mean to snap at you, it's just I wasn't expecting the interrogation."

"Oh. I wasn't trying to interrogate…but yeah, I talk too much when I'm excited. Uh…I guess let's just focus on the job at hand."

"Please."

"Well, it's obvious who we're going to be starting on," Yoshi remarked, fetching a penlight out of his pocket and shining it into the cavity of Freddy's face. Although Freddy managed not to move, his cooling fan revved. Yoshi noticed, shifting the angle of the narrow beam down and lighting up Freddy's chest cavity from within for a moment before he straightened up again. He felt at some of the bent and broken facial rods (Freddy's cooling fan hitched and ground), thumbing at the on/off button of the penlight with his free hand in a restlessness that was very familiar after all this time living with Ana. He wanted to get to work.

'Gosh, they've really got a lot in common,' thought Bonnie unjealously. 'Good for them.'

"Hey, you want to maybe not do that?" Ana demanded as Yoshi wiggled at a protruding pin that should be attached to Freddy's muzzle. "They got enough problems and that shit's delicate."

Yoshi quit feeling at Freddy's insides, only to start poking at his outsides, touching cracks and wiggling case-plates. "These aren't the parts you expect me to salvage, are they? Because I hate to tell you this, but these are way beyond recapture."

"That's not a free pass to break them even more. Step back off him, man, I'm serious!" Ana waited for Yoshi to show her his empty hands, then nodded at the stacked tubs against the back wall and watched with narrow eyes as he promptly went over and opened one.

"Oh wow, look at that," he murmured, peering down the hollow pipe of an arm bone with his pen light. "That's so cool. How the heck did they do this?"

"Look at me," said Ana. "Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, I need to be sure we're both on the same page about some things."

"Right, right. The money," Yoshi guessed. "I had a couple thoughts about that."

Ana leaned back a little. "Oh yeah?"

"First option, hear me out, in lieu of payment, how about you let me keep—"

"No."

"Not one of the bots," Yoshi hastened to say. "Just the old parts, the broken—"

"No."

"Not even—"

"Not even," Ana broke in coolly and to prove it, she took the part out of his hand and put it back in the tub, slapping the lid shut and keeping her hand on it. "Let's get one thing super sugar-frosted clear. I'm well aware that I'm in a bind here, but I am still going to draw some hard lines and I expect you to color inside them or we've problems. If I see you pocket so much as a goddamn screw—"

"Hey, come on." Yoshi drew himself up with wounded surprise. "I got a few lines of my own, you know, and calling me a thief is definitely stepping over one of them. The whole reason I brought it up was because I was trying to make a deal. You said no, that means no, end of story. I don't steal from my clients."

"Fair enough," said Ana, although she did not apologize. "Back to payment plans. You said 'a couple thoughts,' so…?"

"Right, so second thought, why not take it out in trade?"

Ana's eyes lit up as brightly as if there were bulbs behind them. There were three moods that Bonnie had so far discovered that could do that: curiosity, delight and I'm-about-to-punch-a-bitch. Seeing as these were neither curious nor delightful circumstances, Bonnie guessed he was about to see some punching.

But after a moment, the shine of hostility faded into a considering, albeit suspicious, stare. "Okay," she said at last. "You said that way too enthusiastically for a guy who meant it, so I'm just going to go ahead and ask. Are you aware that 'take it out in trade' is slang for demanding sex in exchange for services?"

Bonnie fought not to react, but his ears flattened. He pushed them up again, still grinning, willing his darkening vision to lighten up. He wasn't alone. Across from him, he saw Chica's head tilt and her pink eyes fill up with black, and from beside him came the whirring of servos and the creaking of restraints that might be up to the task of holding a heavy object safely immobile on a long drive, but which could not hold even half a Freddy if he wanted to snap those straps and punch a hole right through a guy. So much for just being simple animatronics.

Fortunately, Yoshi was too shocked to notice any of it. "No," he stammered, backing up with both hands raised until he bumped into Foxy. "No! What? Since when?"

"Since ancient Roman times. Not back then, since then. That's what it's meant for literally two thousand plus years. So…Is that what you meant by it? Because if that's the case—"

"No! Not even a little bit, I swear! I just…I need to get something out of this! And I'm not trying to screw you—" Yoshi blanched and shook his head hard, cutting his hands in frantic 'no' motions in front of him. "Not like that. But look, you are asking for two weeks of my undivided attention, which is not just a ridiculously narrow window for a build—excuse me, four builds of this complexity, but also half a month where I have no other source of income. And yeah, I had a great Halloween season, but not so great that money doesn't matter anymore! I really want to do this, but I can't do it for free. You've got four big, big bots here and reskinning all four of them at once is going to eat through most of my stock of premium materials. Some of that stuff takes months to reorder, so the odds of me having to turn away work during the waving-Santa and flying-reindeer season are high. Now you may think I'm overcharging you on labor to make up for the inevitable losses I'm going to suffer, but I'm not. Keeping my software updated takes money. Keeping my hardware in top form takes money. Electricity, shop space, feeding the technician who's keeping it all running—all of that takes money. Anyone else with my skillset would charge you twice as much for labor, easy, and no effing way they'd give you exclusive service or anything close to a two-week estimate. You'd be lucky to get those bots back before next year, and you better believe those charges would be piling up on the daily, and those would be the honest guys! I gave you a quote on the phone that was practically a gift and you did not jump for joy, so I'm thinking money might be a problem and I came up with some alternatives, that's all. I'm not trying to screw you here," he insisted again. "I'm trying to work with you!"

"Okay," said Ana and gave him a hard stare. "But dude, for real, don't ever use slang again unless you're absolutely sure you know what it means. If I was in the habit of jumping to conclusions, you'd be wearing your face on the other side of your head right now."

"Sorry." Yoshi let out a short, shrill laugh. "I swear I'm not a sleazeball, I'm just an idiot. If you want to keep things simple and just do the money thing, that's how we'll do it. We don't even have to talk to each other if that's how you want it. I know I talk too much," he said with a wide smile under embarrassed eyes. "Especially when I'm nervous. I'm making a terrible impression and I know it. I just really, really wish I could shut up now."

"Relax," said Ana. "So if salvage is out—and salvage is absolutely out—what other kind of trade were you thinking?"

"I do your bots and you do my house."

Ana leaned back slightly and just stared at him.

Yoshi fidgeted the longer her silence drew itself out and finally, hesitantly, said, "You build houses, right?"

"Yeah," Ana said slowly. "What the hell have you got so wrong with your house that it's worth a complete rebuild of four animatronics?"

"Ugh." Yoshi scratched a hand awkwardly over his head, trying to smile away her attention, but it never wavered and at last: "Okay, well, here's the short version. Viva Las Vegas and all that, but between the astronomical rent, the lights, the noise and the crime, I was looking to get out of the city. Unfortunately, between one thing and another…my credit is…not great and…well, we don't need to get into the reasons. Let's just say I took a shot and threw a bid at one of those online auction properties. And like you say, you know, it's always a gamble. Got a two-bedroom with workshop on half an acre for what I thought was a steal, then I get here and…" He trailed off, shaking his head and staring away through the wall. "Previous owner was a hoarder and it was never cleaned out before auction."

Ana's eyes narrowed some more. She did not answer.

"I can't say I had no idea, because the pictures on the site were pretty trashy to begin with and they were all exterior shots with no wide angles, so I should have known, right? Also, it was an online auction and there's a reason you never see good properties on those sites. Anyway, I get here and this whole area where we're parked was a junkyard. Rusty cars, old tires and ratty tarps as far as the eye could see. The workshop was completely filled with literal garbage. Like, bags and bags of actual trash just piled up and rotting everywhere. And then there was the house." Yoshi pivoted and pointed out the open back of the truck toward the other building. "They took eight dumpsters of junk out of that dinky little house. Eight. It was like a fricking TARDIS of crap. Literally, in some cases. I had to get a biohazard team to deal with the bathroom. That was like…it hadn't been functional in a while, but the owner was still using it, if you know what I mean." Yoshi's accompanying dramatic shudder was only half-faked. "Anyway, I got it all emptied, but then what, you know? The floors were wrecked, the plumbing was shot and the porch literally collapsed when the assessor was here to see whether or not the place should be condemned."

Ana glanced over at Bonnie with what could only be read as an Are-you-hearing-this-too expression. He didn't know how to react, especially given that he wasn't supposed to be reacting at all, so he didn't, and eventually Ana returned her hard stare to Yoshi. "How the hell did you get out of that without a yellow slip on the door?"

"I didn't, but I had ninety days to…to pass an inspection," he continued apprehensively as Ana turned around. She went to the open mouth of the truck and stared out at the desert, one hand braced on the jamb and the other at her hip, clenched on nothing, like Foxy when he was wanting his sword. Yoshi waited, but she didn't move, and at last, he went on, "So I hired a guy and…and you know, I hate to talk smack on people, but that guy and his crew just scammed the living crap out of me. I mean, they got the job done. Sort of. I passed my inspection anyway. It's legally habitable and I won't fall through the floor, it's just a little run down. A lot run-down. It's awful in there," he said with another, smaller laugh.

Ana continued to do nothing.

"And I don't know what to do about it. I know I should just hire a new guy, but after the last one…" He let that go, shaking his head. "I tried to fix up a few things myself, but…that was maybe not a wise idea. All I did was take a big mess and make it even bigger and now…now I'm living in it. And it's the worst thing…I mean, just the actual worst. Like, I've been sleeping in the office here for the last couple months. Can you…Can you even imagine what it's like to camp in your own yard just to avoid having to live in the actual house that you actually own?"

Ana huffed out a humorless laugh. "Yeah. I can."

"I realize you've only got a week or two and I don't expect miracles, but holy cow, whatever you can do in that place is a huge help."

"I can tell you right now it won't be much, seeing as I'll be working with my bare hands, or do you expect me to buy a whole new set of construction tools along with eating all the renovating costs?"

"Still got to be cheaper than hiring me, right? And it won't be that bad," Yoshi hastened to say, clearly attempting to sweeten the deal. "I don't need Persian rugs or crystal chandeliers. I just need a toilet that flushes and a roof that doesn't leak. Besides, I got a friend in hotels. He's doing some renovating right now and he says he'll hook me up as far as any tools you might need while you're here, all you got to do is promise to bring 'em back in working condition. I made him a display for the lobby of his three-star," he added with a cautious puff of pride. "I'm not all haunted houses and hayrides, you know. I've got animatronics in fifty-three hotels and shops around the city. That's not me bragging, either. I mean, okay, it sort of is. I'm just saying, despite the way this place looks, I'm actually really legit."

"No one's questioning your skills," Ana told him in quite possibly the least reassuring tone something like that could ever be said.

Yoshi knew it. Uncertainly, he said, "So…are we doing this?"

Ana was quiet a little too long. Her answer, when she finally spoke, was a flat, "I didn't drive all this way for nothing."

"Okay, so…" Yoshi visibly shored himself up, pasted on a huge smile and said, "Let's get them inside. They can walk, right? You said they can walk? I am dying to see them walk."

"Buster and Percy are the only ones with any real mobility anymore. Barry's obviously out of commission and Carrie's not that far behind him, but they'll both try to walk if you tell them to, so do not tell them to," she said with a hard stare and a pointing finger that Yoshi solemnly acknowledged. "Once they get situated in there, they need to stay put until we get them fixed up."

"I understand, but…can I see? Just this once?"

Ana unbuckled Bonnie's safety restraints, then Chica's, and stepped back, pulling Yoshi with her. "Getting them to listen can be tricky, unless you speak their language," she told him. "So we're going to play some Simon Says." In a loud, clear voice, she said, "Play with me, Buster."

That was his cue. Bonnie stood up, hyucking and flapping his ears around. "OH BOY, I LOVE SIMON SAYS. LET'S PLAY!"

"Awesome," Yoshi breathed, wide-eyed. "And he's just going to do whatever you say?"

"Within the scope of his extremely limited vocabulary, yeah. Or until he glitches out and forgets he's playing. That happens a lot."

"LET'S PLAY!" Bonnie said again.

"Go ahead," Ana invited, gesturing to him. "Start with his name."

"Uh, okay." Yoshi eased a little closer. "Buster, Simon Says, raise your right hand."

Bonnie did so, waggling the fingers. His pinky fell off. Damn it.

"I've got them under control," Ana said, picking it up and putting it back on. "I just need to boot Percy up and do some safety checks. It's going to take a few minutes. In the meantime, if you don't mind, I could really use an aspirin or something, and something to wash it down."

"Sure! I've got Mountain Dew and Pepsi and, uh, more Mountain Dew…and water, I guess, although the pipes are…yeah, I don't know about the water."

"Whatever you've got in an unopened bottle or can is fine," said Ana, propping Foxy up and busying herself with the control panel in there like there were buttons to push or connections to check.

"Oh?…oh. Okay. Well, um…see, I kind of do the 2-liter bottle thing, so everything I've got is sort of open already, so…there's a K-cup in the office if you like coffee. You like coffee?"

"I bleed coffee."

"Great! I'll, uh, go get your aspirin and a clean mug and meet you at the shop."

"Right behind you," said Ana.

But she wasn't. She watched him go, then turned irritated eyes on the rest of them. "You need to up your game on the dumb-machine front," she told them. "All of you, and especially you, Chica. What was that about? You were the last one I expected to blurt shit out."

"Sorry." Chica hung her head, but peeked up through her mostly broken plastic lashes. "I wasn't expecting to suddenly be a canary."

Ana answered that with a severe shake of her head, folding her arms and looking so damn much like Freddy in that moment that Bonnie let out a short, startled laugh. "I admit, we probably should have worked that out before we got here," Ana said, giving Bonnie a glare before turning her attention back on Chica, "but that's still not much of an excuse. We're all going to be doing a lot of thinking on our feet and we'd better do a better job from here on out or we're not going to pull this off." She waited a moment while Chica tapped her fingers, then softened slightly and said, "You mind the canary thing?"

"No, not at all! I kind of like it."

"You look more like a canary than a chicken, now that you mention it," Bonnie remarked.

Chica beamed. "I do, don't I?"

"So is it me?" Ana asked, peering through the window behind Foxy at the house. "Am I just being paranoid or should we get the hell out of here right now?"

Freddy grunted, watching the house in a distracted way. "I don't think I should answer that. Mine is not an unbiased opinion at the moment."

"Give him a chance," said Chica in her most peacemaking tone. "He's just nervous."

"About what?" Ana demanded. "As far as he knows, this is a plain-Jane business deal. What does he have to be nervous about?"

"You're kidding, right?" said Bonnie.

When she looked at him in hot-eyed bewilderment, Chica gently said, "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you're being a little scary."

Ana's brows crashed down. "I am not!"

"And if you believe that," Chica said, even gentler, "that's even scarier. He's not doing anything—Ana, he's really not," she said as Ana loudly scoffed and turned away. "Are you feeling all right?"

Ana started to answer, but only let herself get as far as an angry breath, stopping herself before she said anything she might have to apologize for later and giving herself a moment to calm down before trying again. "No," she said finally. "I'm not. I'm not lying about that headache, but that's why I'm asking if it's just me, because I don't think it is. Bonnie," she said, turning intently to him. "Think."

Caught by surprise, Bonnie's instinctive reaction was a short laugh. "Uh, it's not what I'm known for, but sure, okay. About what?"

"That night I had him on the phone, for your voicebox."

"Yeah, I remember. What about it?"

"You were there the whole time, right? I was only ever talking with him when you were right there." Her voice lowered even as her blue eyes blazed. "Did I ever mention that I built houses for a living?"

He blinked. And then he thought again, harder. They'd both done a lot of talking that night, most of it technical stuff that went way over Bonnie's head. He had to admit, after the first hour or so, he'd tuned a lot of it out and just sat there, reading the posters on the break room's wall and being bored. In the end, all he could do was shrug his ears a little and say, "I don't think so. It was a while ago, though. I guess you could have."

"I didn't," she insisted. "He spent the whole night trying to go off on tangents while I had to keep his scattered ass focused. Why the hell would I suddenly start making chit-chat about my job? And this business with the hoard in his house and the guy from the city trying to condemn it, what the hell is that about? Am I supposed to believe that's a coincidence?"

"Seems unlikely," Bonnie admitted, "but it's kind of a weird thing to expect to bond with you over, too, isn't it?"

After his first words, Ana had already swung on Chica with one pointing finger aimed, ready to hammer home whatever point she thought she was making, only to pull herself up short as the rest of his words sank in.

"How would he even find out about all that stuff?" Bonnie asked. "If you didn't tell him, who did? Who else even knows?"

"That's the point! No one else knows! I only told you because I—" She broke off there, a little color rising in her cheeks.

He folded one ear forward with a crooked smile. "Because you didn't know we were really listening," he finished for her. "Yeah, I get it. So how does he know? By the time he talked to you that one night, wasn't the whole thing with your house already over?"

"Nothing's ever 'over' in Mammon," Ana muttered and rubbed her head some more. "He could have talked to my boss. Everybody talks about everything in that town. One phone call was all it would have taken."

"How'd he know who your boss is?"

"I pay taxes," she said defiantly. "I'm sure my entire employment record is on the internet somewhere if someone knows where to look."

"With nothing but your name to go on? But okay, sure, that's plausible, I guess, but if that's the case, wouldn't he have a hundred other things he could lie about to get on your good side? The two of you could be laughing about doughnuts and daycare stories instead of you nearly losing your house, which, even if you won that fight, still has to be a hell of a sore point."

Ana's scowl darkened…and fell away. She dropped her eyes, scuffed the toe of her boot across the floor of the truck, shook her head a few times, and finally looked up at him again. "So I'm being paranoid."

"You're being cautious," Bonnie corrected. "And that's okay. Believe me, nobody here is going to get mad because you were looking out for us. There's always room for another obsessively hyper-vigilant watchdog in the family, right, Freddy?"

Freddy raised his head slightly and looked around at him, all his internal facial rods shifting into an expression that Bonnie, with his years of experience being faceless, had no trouble identifying as a frown. "What?"

"Nothing. I was just making a dumb joke. Sorry."

"Shit, he's coming back already," Ana muttered. Grimacing, she heaved Foxy upright, removed the sweater and closed his chest compartment, already reaching for the handcart. "We got to get in there, if that's where we're going. Hop on, Chica."

"That doesn't look very sturdy," Chica said, eyeing the dimensions of the cart. "And I'm super-heavy. Can't Bonnie carry me again?"

"Sure," said Bonnie.

"No," said Ana. "I barely trust him to walk that far over loose gravel. He doesn't need anything else throwing off his balance. Don't argue with me, sister, get on the cart."

"CLOCK DISCREPANCY DETECTED. CORRECTING…CORRECTED. AHOY, ME MATEYS AND WEL-WEL-WELCOME TO PIRATE'S C-C-COVE! Ow, me bloody head hurts. Where are we?" Scratching his hook across his head, Foxy turned and peered out the viewing hole behind him. "Is that him what we came all this way for? That scrawny little bilge-rat?"

"That scrawny little bilge-rat is going to be taking you apart and putting you back together, so show him some respect," said Ana, tightening the straps holding Chica on the cart. "Oh, and just real quick, you're animatronics from Buster's Burger Ranch. This is Buster, that's Barry, this is Carrie—"

"I'm a canary now!"

"—and you're Percy the Polite Pirate."

"I'm who the fiddling fuck now?"

"Oo, profanity," tsked Bonnie. "That's not very polite, Percy."

Foxy's ear flattened. "This were yer idea, weren't it?"

"You still remember The Manners Song, don't you, Percy?" Bonnie asked cheerfully. "It'll add to our credibility if you 'glitch out' and sing it a few times. All eight verses."

"It'll add even more if'n I 'glitch out' and run me hook through yer head, ye poxy scab-stain."

"Please don't fight," Chica implored.

Freddy just shook his head and looked away, venting his cooling system.

"Yeah, don't fight, Percy. In fact, here's a little pointer from an old pro. Repeat after me, 'Sometimes we get mad at our friends and say things we don't mean, but saying I'm sorry can help us all be friends again.'"

Foxy's ear, still flat, pivoted away from irritation to an angle of feigned contrition. "Oh, yer right. Ahem. I'm sorry yer a poxy scab-stain."

"That's better."

"I can't deal with this right now," Freddy said, very very softly.

"Everybody shut up," Ana snapped even before Bonnie could call an immediate truce. She stepped forward and stopped just out of Freddy's reach. "You holding it together, big bear?"

"No," said Freddy. Tiny motors whined in his head. He looked at her, the blue of his eyes eclipsed by the lenses of his pupils. "I'm sorry. I thought I could do this. I thought…but now that it's really happening…I don't think I can. I…I want to leave. Can we leave?"

If she'd been looking for an excuse to go, there it was, but strangely, Ana didn't jump on it. Instead, frowning, she said, "Is that really want you want?"

"No," Freddy said at once. "I don't want that at all, but he's going to touch me. I don't want him to touch me."

"Freddy, you had to know—"

"Yes, of course I did, but you saw him! He can't wait to take me apart, to…to eviscerate me!"

"I'll be right there—"

"Yes, and you'll tell him exactly what to do and he'll say he'll do it, but he won't," Freddy insisted. The ring of blue around his lenses thinned. "He'll just wait for you to leave and he'll pull me apart…and I'll feel it. I'll feel that distance chewing at my bones in all the different rooms he puts me and I can't…I can't go through that again. Please. Please don't make me do this."

Ana took another step forward, shrugging off Bonnie's warning hand when he caught her shoulder, and knelt down in front of the bench where Freddy sat, shivering at the joints. "I won't," she said. "I will turn this truck around right now and take you home, big bear. I'll get you a wheelchair. I'll make you as safe and as comfortable as it's possible to make you for a few more years, but don't kid yourself. A few more years is all you've got."

"Not all," said Freddy. "I have you. You're better than this man, I know you are. We don't need him. You can do this."

"No," Ana said quietly. "I can't. He's got specialized equipment, remember? I don't know where to find his tools or even what they're called. The kind of software he's using, they don't sell that shit at Office Depot, and without it, I can't do anything better for you than I could for Chica's leg."

A terrible idea rose up in the back of Bonnie's mind, but before he could think of a tactful way to suggest that Yoshi had everything they'd need, Ana went calmly on with, "Now let's pretend this guy gives me a reason to put him under the ground and take his shit."

Foxy nodded, Chica opened her beak, but closed it without protesting, and Freddy didn't react at all.

"I can't exactly hang around after a murder very long, which means I'd have to load up and get out fast. I don't know what he's got in there, but there's no way we're fitting the full contents of that shop in this truck. I'd have to guess what I need and the odds of me missing something vital are approximately one in one. Not to mention, I still don't know how to use any of it. The reality here is, this guy probably went to robot college for years to get to where he's at. I have no way of acquiring those skills overnight and I guarantee they don't teach that shit at the local night school, so now we're looking at a timeline where I get into a technical institute of high enough quality to teach me what I need to know, but low enough standards to take me, and I got to be honest with you, bear, I don't see that happening without a lot of blowjobs."

Freddy stared at her, his eyes almost full-black, and she was so close to him, so close. But at last, his stiff shoulders slumped and he nodded. "You're right. I know you're right, but I just don't think I can do this. You need to open me."

Ana frowned. "Freddy, are you sure?"

"Just for a little while. Just for this, when he's taking me apart. I don't need to be finished. I don't even need skin. As soon as you put my endoskeleton back together, I'll be all right. I'm just…I can't be calm while I wait for a stranger to take me apart. I thought I could, but…I'm going to go black and the longer I fight it, the longer I'll stay black when it happens—and it's going to happen," he said, too calmly. "It's already happening. I don't want to hurt you." He shivered, hard. "But I will."

"Okay," said Ana, so softly against his rising, static-charged voice. "Okay, then. Find your happy place."

"Wait. Bonnie." Freddy turned his eyes toward him, but not quite. He couldn't see, Bonnie realized. He was already deep enough in the black to be blind. How in the hell he was still managing to talk, Bonnie had no idea. "Bonnie, you put yourself in charge, so if anyone's going to pull this off, it's you. Put your ears up and smile. Never stop smiling. Remember, you are the face of Buster's Burger Ranch."

Bonnie pushed his ears up and forced cheer into his voice. "I learned from the best!"

"All right. I'm ready. Open me."

She did, so that Freddy's last word stretched long before his speaker shut down. Ana got her sweater and tied it around Freddy's neck, then just knelt and stared up into the ruins of his face for a few seconds. At last, she looked around, first at Foxy, then at Bonnie. "You two done?" she asked coolly.

Bonnie nodded, subdued, and looked at Foxy, who did nothing.

Ana stood, dividing her angry stare equally between them, which hardly seemed fair. "Because if you're not, by all means, keep going. Get it all out of your systems now, because when we walk into that building, the man who owns it is going to be listening to every word you say, and unlike me, he is not some stupid stoner who wants to be fooled. He'll know the difference between some advanced communications software and a self-aware artificial intelligence. I only have so much control over this situation if it blows up, you got that?"

Bonnie nodded again, ears low, but it was Foxy who said, "Ye all right, luv?"

She wouldn't look at him. She rubbed the back of her hand (was it shaking?) across her sweaty face and turned away. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just…not feeling very well. Come on, Bon. Buster. It's Buster now," she muttered to herself and gave her face a not-so-little slap. "Buster. Buster. Barry, Carrie, Percy, Buster."

She got the handcart with Chica on it, wheeled it around and soon was gone.

"What's the matter with her?" Foxy asked, frowning after her. "She sick or something?"

"Or something. This is turning into a real shitshow, isn't it?" Deeply worried, Bonnie put on a big ol' Showtime Smile and followed Ana to the open door where Yoshi waited for them.