The Wild Robot

RECO 1 burst into a sprint. The forest seemed to sway and quake from his stomping strides. And a minute later, the forest really did begin to move. Trees were toppling down onto the RECO. He fired his rifle, and two toppling trees turned to ash. But then a third swung down through the smoke and hammered his body into the ground. RECO 1 shoved the tree aside, pulled himself up, and continued the hunt. He didn’t notice the beavers diving back into the pond.

RECO 1 tore through brambles and leaped over boulders, and suddenly the ground was caving beneath him. Down he fell into a deep pit, crashing against the bottom and twisting his leg. The robot violently pounded his leg back into shape. Then he launched himself up and out of the pit. He didn’t notice the groundhogs watching from their tunnels.

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