Cyborg Nation Kaitlyn O'Connor (books to get back into reading TXT) 📖

and maim and destroy. That was all they had experienced, all they had had to learn from, and that was why they were very familiar with hate and anger. If all of the cyborgs that had managed to evade attempts to destroy them were as these were, and she saw no reason to doubt that they were since the soldiers were certainly better equipped to defend themselves from their creators, then she had a lot to fear. Strong emotions had a tendency to outweigh logic so she didn’t feel that the fact that they seemed to believe they needed her was going to be the protection they seemed to think it was … or at least wanted her to believe it was.

Empathy smote her. It was awful to think that they had come into awareness under such circumstances, that they had not known anything ‘good’ at all, did not even have happy childhood memories to sustain them. As difficult as she had thought her own childhood was, she had had some affection. She had had friends. She had had fun. There were good memories to draw upon as well as bad ones.

Depression settled over her, as well, because she realized her life was never going to get any better than this. From this point onward, she had nothing to look forward to with hope. The vague, never completely abandoned dream that she would one day meet a man she could love, or at least respect and like a great deal, and have a family of her own was never going to materialize. Even the barely acknowledged hope that the men who’d taken her might form at least a friendly bond with her vanished like smoke. She looked away from him, stirring the remains of her meal on her plate. “To live among others just like you three … who also don’t hate humans? That is certainly something for me to look forward to! It is such a great relief to know that as long as I’m considered useful I get to live.”

She got up and moved to the work area to clean the remains of her food into the incinerator unit and clean her plate and utensil. It was something to do, at least, to occupy her hands and mind. Hearing the dull clank of the others’ plates and the stirring of movement, she wasn’t startled when she felt a presence beside her. She turned to discover it was the one with green eyes and he was holding a stack of plates. She reached to take them from him.

“It is my turn to clean up.”

She didn’t look at him. “I might as well have a turn, too. God knows I don’t want to be thought useless!”

“You are a doctor and much needed. Your place in our society is assured, as are your comfort and well being.”

They could tell her that forever and it wasn’t going to make her feel any less threatened! They were cyborgs, for fuck’s sake! They already had an unfair advantage! Even supposing these mythical children that needed her care appeared—and she couldn’t figure out how they thought that was going to happen in this little community they were working so hard to build—it wasn’t as if she could guard either her knowledge or her experience from them. They would learn—a lot faster than she had—and then they wouldn’t need her!

She wasn’t really surprised to discover when she looked up at him that tears blurred her vision. She was deep down scared and depressed besides. “Oh!” she snapped sarcastically. “Well now I feel all better!”

As she looked at him angrily, the tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks.

A frown drew his dark brows together as his gaze followed the path. When he met her gaze again, his face had darkened and grown taut with fury. She had just enough time to feel faint when he whirled abruptly on his heel and stalked across the main cabin. Grabbing Gabriel by the shoulder, he snatched him around to meet the fist he slung at him.

Bronte’s jaw dropped as the loud, meaty sound hit her ears like an explosion. Gabriel flew backwards, skidding across the table they’d been eating at moments before and sending the glasses filled with water flying in every direction.

“Jerico!” Gideon bellowed, launching himself from the pilot’s seat and barreling toward the two men just as Jerico launched himself on top of the fallen man … or tried to … with his hands extended toward Gabriel’s throat. Quicker than thought, Gabriel brought his knees to his chest, caught Jerico with his feet and catapulted him across the small room. He slammed into the cabinets only inches from Bronte. Uttering a squeak of fright, Bronte dropped the dish she’d been holding and whirled to run.

Leaving complete mayhem behind her, she dashed into the rear cabin and looked around frantically for a place to hide. She’d already dashed toward the bathroom when she skidded to a halt at the realization that it was very likely the first place they would look for her. Besides, it didn’t have a lock.

She whirled, whipping her head from side to side in a frantic search for possibilities, dimly aware that the sounds of a fight were escalating not diminishing, as if all three men were now in the midst of battle. The space under the bunk was small, but she thought she could get under it. The problem was, under the bed would probably be their second guess if it wasn’t the first.

Racing to the clothing locker, she popped the door open, gauged the size of the shelves and decided she could just squeeze into the bottom area. Grabbing the clothing from it, she had already tossed them over her shoulder before it dawned on her the scattered clothes would be a dead giveaway. Snatching them up again, she looked around a little wildly and finally threw them under the bunk. She scraped the hide off of her arms and shins climbing into