The Wild Robot

The sky darkened as a swarm of birds descended from the treetops. They swooped past the robot and splattered his face with their droppings. Bird after bird swooped and splattered, and the RECO’s eyes were instantly caked in filth.

“Don’t let up!” screeched the owl. “Give it everything you’ve got!”

There seemed to be an endless stream of birds with an endless amount of droppings. RECO 3 let go of his weapon and wiped his filthy face with both hands. That was the moment the Fuzzy Bandits had been waiting for. They dashed out from the weeds, snatched the rifle with their nimble hands, and dragged it away. Tawny and Crownpoint looked on from the underbrush. The buck lowered his head, and the raccoons carefully placed the rifle upon his antlers. Then the deer and the raccoons slipped into the shadows. By the time RECO 3 realized his weapon was missing, it was too late. He let out a sad electronic tone. And then, as the birds continued their bombardment, the robot turned and blindly trudged back through the muck.

It was now time for the final stage of the plan. Broadfoot the bull moose emerged from the trees and stood directly in the path of the blinded robot. RECO 3 had no idea that his every step brought him closer to the mighty animal. When the robot was in range, Broadfoot turned and kicked back with his powerful hind legs. There was a sharp crack, and dung sprayed from the RECO’s head. The moose kicked again—crack—and the robot’s head flopped to one side. A tear in his neck exposed a tangle of silver tubes. But RECO 3’s legs kept pumping, so Broadfoot kept kicking. He pounded the robot’s head with his heavy hooves, denting and crushing it into an ugly shape, and with one final crack the head broke loose, soared through the air, and squelched into the muck. The headless robot fizzled and smoked, his legs ground to a halt, and he never moved again.

CHAPTER 72 THE MOUNTAIN RUMBLE

RECO 2 stood at the mouth of the cave. “ROZZUM unit 7134, are you in here?” The only response was his own flat voice echoing back. But he sensed movement somewhere down the tunnel. So he switched on his headlights, raised his rifle, and marched inside.

The RECO marched past animal bones and rock piles and wide cracks in the walls. His blocky head swiveled from side to side, scanning for any sign of Roz. But she was nowhere to be found. So he turned and marched back toward daylight. And then a deafening roar filled the cave.

From the shadows flew a giant body. Mother Bear charged into the robot and smashed him against a wall. Then Nettle and Thorn jumped in, and together the family went to work. They rammed his legs. They slashed his chest. They muscled him to the ground.

On his way down, RECO 2 squeezed the trigger. There was a flash of blazing light and the walls began to crumble. Nettle grabbed her brother by the scruff and pulled him outside as an avalanche of rock thundered behind them.

Mother Bear howled.

The rifle exploded.

Stones clanged against RECO 2.

The avalanche slowed and settled as a cloud of dust billowed out from the cave.

“Mother?” Nettle peered into the darkness.

“I’m here,” said a weak voice.

The young bears dashed inside and found their mother half-buried. They pulled heavy stones from her body and dusted her off. “I have broken bones,” she rasped, “but they will heal. Where is the robot?”

RECO 2’s headlights switched back on. Stones tumbled as the robot staggered to his feet. His body was scratched and scraped. His head was badly dented. His left arm was completely useless, so—thwip—it was tossed aside. Then the one-armed robot limped out of the cave and continued the hunt for Roz.

“Don’t worry about me,” Mother Bear growled to Nettle and Thorn. “Kill the robot.”

With his heavy limp and his grinding gears, RECO 2 was easy to track. The young bears caught up with him as he was entering a grove of pines. But they didn’t attack, not yet. There was a better place to finish him off up ahead. So they hung back and followed him across the mountainside.

The distant rumble of the waterfall grew louder with each passing minute, and then a slash of white appeared through the trees. Soon, the robot was standing beside the roiling, frothing river, just above the falls. He was too badly damaged to leap over the falls or to wade through the rapids or to climb down the cliffs. But he had to continue his hunt for the target. So he started limping upriver in search of a safer crossing.

There was a rustling, and the young bears exploded out from the trees. They threw their heavy shoulders against the robot’s body, and he stumbled sideways onto the riverbank. Nettle reared up and wrestled the robot, twisting and shaking him with all of her strength. RECO 2 felt his feet slipping on the rocks, he felt his body tipping over, and then he plunged into the white water. And he brought Nettle with him.