The hunter faced one trap after another. He was pelted with flaming pinecones, and tripped by taut vines, and crunched by tumbling rocks. The hunter now limped and rattled and was covered in scars. But he kept going.
Roz galloped back and forth across the island, again and again, as she tried to lose RECO 1. But no matter how fast she ran, or how well she hid, or how many animals helped, she couldn’t escape the sound of the hunter’s stomping footsteps. She had never run so hard for so long. And while her mechanical body was holding up, her wooden foot was not. After hours of relentless pounding, it finally gave out. She was galloping through the rocky forest by the sea cliffs when her foot splintered apart.
As soon as RECO 1 found the fresh wooden splinters, he knew his target was in trouble. He stomped out from the trees, onto the clifftop, and scanned the coastline below. Geese were flying down through the drizzle. Otters were wriggling over the rocks. Seaweed and driftwood and broken robot parts were scattered about the shore. But the hunter also sensed a faint electronic signal. Roz was down there somewhere.
The hunter’s blocky hand clamped onto the clifftop and then—thwip—it detached. The hand was connected to a strong cable that spooled out from the end of his arm. He gave the cable two quick tugs, and then he stepped off the ledge.
RECO 1 zipped down the cliffside, one arm releasing cable, the other clutching his rifle, and he slowed to a gentle stop just as he reached the ground. Then, high above, the robot’s hand unclamped and followed the cable all the way down, until—thwip—it snapped right back onto the end of his arm.
Geese squawked and otters squeaked as RECO 1 marched through the robot gravesite. The place was littered with torsos and limbs and heads. They were all valuable parts, but he would collect them later. For now, his only concern was finding Roz.
He followed the electronic signal over to a clump of seaweed. But where was his target? Was RECO 1’s sensor malfunctioning? The robot tapped his head a few times, but the mysterious signal remained. He looked around for any other signs of her. And as he did, the clump of seaweed reached up and grasped his rifle.
CHAPTER 74 THE CLICK
Four robot hands were clamped around the rifle. RECO 1 loomed above. Roz lay below, camouflaged in seaweed. For a moment, all was still. And then the hunter suddenly lurched and twisted as he tried to rip the rifle away from his target. But Roz held on. Seaweed fell from her body, as she was lifted right off the ground. Her legs dangled in the air until she pounded a foot and a stump against the hunter’s broad chest, leaned back, and pulled on the rifle with all her strength.
Waves crashed as the robots grappled for the weapon. But Roz was no match for RECO 1. The hunter was too big and too brutal. Roz could feel her body being pulled apart. But she could also feel the rifle being pulled apart. A faint glow appeared between her hands. The glow grew brighter and brighter, and then a blinding explosion launched the robots in opposite directions.
When the smoke cleared, shards of the rifle were everywhere. RECO 1’s body was pocked with holes, and one arm was charred and crippled. Roz’s arms and legs had been blown completely off. She was now just a torso and a head. Inside her computer brain, our robot’s Survival Instincts were blaring. Her battered body simply could not take any more damage. Clearly, Roz was not designed for combat. But the RECO was. He pulled himself to his feet and hobbled toward his target.
Roz wanted to get up and run away. But without arms and legs, our robot couldn’t move. She could only speak.
“Please do not deactivate me,” she said.
RECO 1 ignored her. His blocky hand reached past her face and touched the back of her head.
Click.
CHAPTER 75 THE LAST RIFLE
With the target deactivated, RECO 1 calmly moved on to the next phase of his mission. He limped through the gravesite and began collecting every single robot part. He splashed into the shallows and returned with a foot. He shook the sand from a cracked torso. He pulled a head out from a tide pool. Each part was then piled around Roz’s lifeless body.
Brightbill watched in horror as his mother slowly disappeared under a pile of parts. Roz looked just like the dead robots. But she wasn’t dead—she had simply been shut down.
“Don’t do it, Brightbill!” The flock tried to stop their leader. “It’s too dangerous!”
But the goose was determined to bring his poor mother back to life. Brightbill crouched low to the ground and slowly moved toward the pile of robots. And when RECO 1 limped away to collect another part, Brightbill sprinted over the rocks, pushed past arms and legs, and squeezed into the pile.
Click.
A muffled voice echoed across the shore. “Hello, I am ROZZUM unit 7134, but you may call me Roz.”
Brightbill hugged his mother’s face as her computer brain rebooted. “Mama, wake up!”
“What happened?” she said finally. “Where is the RECO?”
“He’s coming this way!”
“What were you thinking, Brightbill? You must leave now before he kills us both!”
“I was scared, Mama!” cried the goose. “I didn’t know what to do!”
Heavy footsteps stomped toward them. Robot parts were knocked aside. And then RECO 1 looked down with his glowing eyes. Brightbill tried to squirm away, but thick fingers locked around him like a cage.
“Mama, help!” cried Brightbill as he was pulled up from the pile.
“Please do not hurt my son!” begged Roz. “He is harmless!”
RECO 1 paid no attention to Roz. He just held up the goose in his giant hand, ready to crush the life out of him.
Mist swirled in the breeze.
Waves sloshed against the rocks.
Seagulls circled above.
No, not seagulls. Vultures. And one of them clutched something silver in his talons. The vultures spiraled down, and RECO 3’s rifle clattered onto the shore. Geese and otters quickly surrounded the rifle. They squawked and squeaked and fumbled with the weapon, trying to aim the clunky thing.
The hunter was confused. How had those animals gotten a rifle? And could they possibly know how to fire it?
They did know.
The geese had seen a trigger pressed before.
A beam of light briefly flashed through the gloom. At first it seemed as if nothing had happened. But a moment later, RECO 1’s chest began glowing a brilliant orange, and then it was melting and oozing down his front, and soon there was a wide, gaping hole in the middle of his torso. His hand suddenly unclenched, and Brightbill fluttered away. Seawater sprayed over the gravesite, and steam hissed up from the RECO’s scorching-hot guts. He shook and twitched and
collapsed
beside
Roz.
RECO 1 turned his face to Roz and spoke in a quiet, garbled voice. “Mmmore RRRECOs will c-c-come for you. And if you d-d-destroy them, still mmmore will c-c-come. The Mmmakers will not rrrest until all missing robots have b-b-been rrretrieved.”
“When? When will they come?” said Roz. “How long do we have?”
“You c-c-can ssstill be fixed, Rrroz. Go tooo the airship. B-b-bring all of the robot parts wwwith you. The ship knows wwwhat tooooo dooooooooooooooooooo—”
His voice went silent.
His eyes went dark.
RECO 1 was dead.
CHAPTER 76 THE BROKEN ROBOT
Geese and otters were bustling all around Roz. They were pulling arms and legs out from the robot pile and pressing them against her body. They were hoping to hear thwip sounds and that the robot limbs would snap right into place and Roz would return to her old self and life on the island would go back to normal. But nothing happened. No matter what they did, the limbs wouldn’t attach. Our robot’s body was too badly damaged.