Free Revenge of the Giant Robot Chickens by Alex McCall Page B

jump out and scare it. But I knew it was just the fear talking. I bit down on it, suppressing the urge. I mustn’t lose it. I had to keep control. For Glen if no one else.
    I looked around to see how he was dealing with the situation. He was still scribbling in that notebook. I stared at him, bemused. What on earth was he doing?
    Then the tapping came again. I looked back round and saw the shadow move off. The chicken must have decided we were deeper inside the building. That worked fine for me.
    “Look,” I whispered to Glen, “we can’t outrun it butit can’t stay here forever. If we don’t report back, Noah will probably come get us armed with lasers. We just need to hide and wait it out.”
    “Uh-huh?” he said, not really looking at me.
    I frowned at him. “What are you doing?” I asked.
    “Nothing.” He tore the paper out of his notebook and scrunched it into a ball. “Should we go back and get the satellite GPS? I think I know which components to take now.”
    “Yeah. Now, while the coast is clear. Then hide.”
    I straightened up and moved towards the door. I listened momentarily, pressing my ear up against the glass, keeping beneath the level of the window.
    I couldn’t hear anything.
    “I think it’s safe,” I said. I grasped the door handle and pulled it open.
    The chicken peered down at us from its perch on a high beam, its comb raised and proud. It looked at us expressionlessly for a moment and I felt my mouth gape open. It had known where we were the entire time and was just playing with us.
    “Get back!” I jumped backwards, trying to swing the door closed. But it flew down and cannoned into the door before it was completely shut. I dug in my heels, forcing all my weight into resisting but it was no good. The chicken was too strong. The soles of my shoes made sad squeaking noises as they were slowly forced back. Then all at once the door gave way and the chicken was in.
    I stumbled backwards and it ignored me, headingstraight for Glen. With no time to draw my shock-stick I just threw myself after it, catching it on the shoulder and wrapping my arms around its neck.
    “Get. Away. From. Him,” I said through gritted teeth. “Glen, run!”
    It rocked slightly, swaying beneath my weight and motion, then swung around. I’d seen videos of people riding the rodeo on YouTube and it felt just like that. It bucked and shook, trying everything to loosen my grip. Eventually it just started to spin, round and round and round and round. My hands began to loosen and then I was flung off, crashing into a desk.
    Glen had been standing very still while all this was happening. Maybe he believed that old story about chickens not being able to see things that weren’t in motion. Maybe that was generally true, but it wasn’t in this situation. The chicken definitely knew where Glen was and it advanced, mockingly.
    At the last moment Glen dodged to the side and ran towards me. The chicken pecked at him but missed.
    I got to my feet, groaning, as the chicken completed its turn and darted forward. Glen was there, hands out as if trying to pull me towards him.
    I saw the whole awful thing as if in slow motion. I felt Glen’s hand connect with mine and grasp it. Behind his shoulder I could see the chicken looming close. Its whole chest area swung open like a giant mouth, reaching forward to swallow Glen whole. Then it was closing around him, little talons seeming to reach from inside and pull him away from me. I held on to his armfor as long as I could but I felt his fingers slip from mine. At the last moment I looked up into his face and saw that he wasn’t scared. His face showed something worse than fear: acceptance.
    “Say hello to America for me,” he said. Then the chicken pulled him backwards and enveloped him.
    It shook once or twice, as if making sure that Glen was secure. Then it just turned and strutted towards the door. It didn’t even run, like it didn’t consider me a threat. I sprinted