Wylder found the trap door easily enough and climbed down a ladder. The inside of the carriage was a shambles. Upholstered seats had been ripped out of the floor and slashed. There were holes punched in the walls; windows were cracked or shattered. People were propped up in corners, bleeding and groaning and crying. It was like the aftermath of a gang fight, and this was the losing side. What had happened?
And where was Nevins?
Wylder made his way down the corridor, climbing over seats and dodging holes in the floor. He almost stepped on a Red Rider. It was Captain McGurk—red face, sideburns, pop eyes and all. He’d arrested them only minutes ago—minutes to Wylder, that is. How long had it really been? How many pages had Nevins turned?
Blood leaked from a gash on the captain’s forehead, but Wylder didn’t feel too sorry for him—after all, he had put Addy in jail.
“The gold!” he moaned. “They’re going to get the gold!”
Before Wylder could ask any questions, he was bumped out of the way by an octopus-type ServiDude with a red cross on its domed top. Its arms ended in various tools like a thermometer, a bandage, a syringe and a saw.
“MEDICO SERVIDUDE AT YOUR SERVICE! TIME IS PRECIOUS! LIVES ARE AT STAKE!”
McGurk moaned some more. The ServiDude bent over and extended an arm with a flashlight at the end.
“SAY AHH!”
Wylder’s doctor sounded friendly when she said that. This one sounded stressed and in a hurry. And a little bit crazy. The light shone into McGurk’s mouth, ears and eyes, while dials and gauges on the extended arm lit up. A moment later a strip of paper emerged from a slot that looked like a mouth.
“DIAGNOSIS—CRUSHED LEFT LEG. READ RECEIPT AND CONFIRM.”
Really? thought Wylder. McGurk’s left leg looked okay.
“RECOMMENDED PROCEDURE—AMPUTATION! NO TIME TO WASTE! NURSE! NURSE!”
A new Medico ServiDude rolled up and snapped restraints around McGurk’s wrists. The first ServiDude rotated its torso so the arm with the saw was in front.
Wylder backed away. He’d have to ask Addy if her uncle disliked doctors for some reason.
Something was happening at the end of the carriage. Wylder crouched behind a heap of broken seats. His heart was beating—well, of course it was, or he’d be dead. But right now it was beating fast and loudly.
CRASH! KER-POW!
“Snap, please stop!”
The voice was Professor Lickpenny’s, but the words sounded all wrong. Wylder could not imagine the professor saying please to anyone. He shifted to get a better view.
“No more punching, Snap! You’ve done wonderful things this afternoon! All this lovely destruction is thanks to you. Now, be a good boy, and do what I say. Stop punching!”
“Uncle Aldous?”
“Chht, mosquito-brain. I’m busy!”
“Did I or did I not tell you to close your dribbling mouth?”
That was more like the old Lickpenny—the nasty guy who yelled at his nasty nephew. The professor’s hair was standing on end, showing the bald top of his head. Nevins was backed up against the window, out of reach of Snap and nearly out of Wylder’s view.
The robot, standing almost as tall as the railway car, punched at the ceiling with heavy fists. KER-POW!
Lickpenny fiddled with the remote control. “Snap!” he shrieked. “Follow my command! When I hit the pause button, you pause, right? PAUSE! Yes! Yes, that’s it!”
Snap paused, swaying slightly amid the wreckage. Lickpenny inched closer. He reached into the robot’s chest pocket, then moved his nose in too. Was he sniffing? Wylder remembered Nevins attaching the siphon to Krackle’s pocket back in the laboratory. The professor sniffed again.
“Nevins!” he barked. “You worm! Why does the catalyzer smell like … onions?”
“Uhh-uhh-nions?” Nevins sounded totally guilty. He knew something, but what? “Did you make a mistake in your formula, Uncle?”
Lickpenny turned on Nevins in a bristling fury. But as he waved his arms, he bopped Snap. Snap began to move, and the professor aimed the controller with renewed attention.
“Take a step!” he ordered, pushing one of the buttons.
Snap lifted an immense leg and brought it down.
“Good boy!” the professor cried.
“Uncle,” said Nevins, moving away from the wall, “when will you listen to me?” Nevins held a familiar roll of colored paper. Wylder felt a small pop of hope. The comic! Still in one piece and not too far away!
“What about you?” Lickpenny turned to his nephew. “Is Krackle in position?”
“Krackle won’t follow orders either. Just like Snap.”
“Useless maggot! Is he in lammergeyer mode?”
“The bird thing? Yes. He transformed just fine, and then stopped doing what I asked. He pinioned those girls—”
“Girls? Where did girls come from?”
“I thought it was only the one, but now there are two of them—both the same, like twins. Krackle has them in his claws, up on the roof. But he won’t function, no matter which knobs or buttons I press.”
“You crapulous cretin!”
Nevins made a choked whimper, like a bulldog with a mouthful of cake.
“It’s not my fault, Uncle. I’m—”
“This is my moment, Nevins. Even Snap going berserk has worked wonders. The train is a ruin, the Red Riders are incapacitated and the gold car is unguarded. Go back to the roof and fly Krackle to the armored car. Go at once, you cack-handed cabbage!”
Wylder peered around the sheltering pile of wreckage. Snap was short-circuiting again, punching upward with fury. Left fist, right fist, left fist, right fist …
KER-SMASH! KER-SMASH! CRRRRUNCH!
“No, Snap!” Lickpenny’s voice rose to a shriek. “Bad boy! STOP!”
A hole in the ceiling of the carriage gaped open to the sky. Snap stamped its giant feet and swung its arms, bashing away at the ever-enlarging hole.
Wylder thought his head might pop. Addy was up there! He had to grab the comic now!
Nevins slunk away from his uncle. Wylder didn’t stop to think. He leapt, bringing the other boy down with him, hurling his whole self at Nevins’s right hand—the one holding the comic book. They tussled on the floor, Wylder trying awkwardly to punch Nevins but missing. He rolled him over, attempting to sit on him, but Nevins wriggled away. Wylder went for a headlock, but Nevins laughed and slipped out.
This fighting stuff was hard! Maybe he should have done more of it in school.
He focused on prying the comic book from between Nevins’s fingers, but the other boy twisted around on the floor, kicked Wylder in the knee and scurried, like the rat he was, between the moaning passengers and away.
You blew it, Wylder Wallace! he thought. You’ll never catch the little twerp. Addy will be killed by the lammer-whatsit.
But no way could he give up. Ignoring the pain knifing through his knee and the fear clutching at his heart, Wylder hobbled after Nevins. His breath came like a tennis player, in short, sweaty pants, but he kept going.
He heard a yelp of terror from the other end of the car. Seconds later, he stopped and choked back a laugh. Crazy to laugh with Addy still in trouble and his knee screaming in pain, but …
Nevins was the one yelping. He’d caught his foot in a hole where the seats had been pulled up. Medico ServiDudes were on the scene. Nevins’s wrists and ankles were now in restraints. One ServiDude aimed a gigantic syringe at his backside. The thing was the size of a bicycle pump!
“THIS WON’T HURT A BIT,” said the medico.
Nevins fainted.
Wylder snatched the comic out of his cuffed hand and hobbled over to the ladder that led to the roof. Wait a second! Addy had said to get the controller too.
He hobbled back and picked it right out of Nevins’s front pocket.
Wow, Isadora was seriously an expert with the whip.
CRAAACK!
Who knew that a robot could flinch? The crack of the whip next to Snap’s jaw certainly seemed to have that effect. Or maybe the whip’s whoosh was powerful enough to tip its head like that.
CRAAACK!
One of the flashing red eyes gave off a loud hiss—PFFFT!—and went out. The robot hauled itself all the way up, towering over Isadora. Addy would swear that its scowl turned into a smile.
How much worse could things get?
PRT-PRT-PRT, the motor inside the lammergeyer turned over again. Feathers rattled, the head clicked left to right and the talons clenched around Addy’s chest.
“Ouch!” Quite a bit worse, she thought.
Where was Wylder? In trouble somewhere?
Did he get the comic book?
He wouldn’t try turning the page without her, would he?
Could Isadora win against a gigantic robot?
Was Flynn alive? Could comic book characters die if the creator didn’t kill them?
How messed up was the comic book?
Where was Wylder?
“Look! Over there!” Nelly’s finger jabbed toward the roof in front of them. Catnip’s teeny toenails dug into Addy’s neck as she peered through the shifting smoke, trying to see what had alarmed Nelly.
There was a hole in that roof too! Or … no, a trapdoor had been flung open and a head popped out.
The very last head that Addy wished to see.
With greasy strings of hair flapping in the wind, Professor Aldous Lickpenny waved a controller. He shouted curse words at Snap and the Krackle-lammergeyer, jamming his fingers on the buttons of the device with increasing fury. But neither one of the robots responded to anything its creator did.
CRACK! Isadora lashed at Snap’s feet.
THUNKK. THUNKK. Snap’s feet took two tremendous steps toward her, ignoring the cracking whip.
“Dispose of the enemy!” screeched Lickpenny. “Dispose of the enemy!”
PRT-PRT-PRT-PRT-PRT. Krackle-lammergeyer finally clicked into gear. PRRRRT-PRRRRT-PRRRRT. Its feathers shook and flexed, rattling like tin cans.
Addy’s whole body felt the tug as tremendous wings stretched in readiness.
“Please, Auntie!” Nelly’s voice wobbled with tears. “Don’t let him—”
CRACK!
The bird tightened its grip around Addy as her brain began to spin again.
Where was Wylder?
Did he have the comic yet?
Any chance he might show up and … help?
Isadora was too near the edge of the roof. Her whip might as well be a flyswatter for all it was doing to fend off Snap.
Lickpenny laughed like an evil owl hooting.
Snap advanced—THUNKK, THUNKK—denting the roof with each step.
Isadora dropped her whip and leapt to seize Flynn’s sword from where it lay next to his broken body. Addy stretched her leg to poke him gently with her boot.
“Flynn!” she cried. “Wake up!”
He rolled over, eyes still closed, and flung out his handless arm at the exact right second to trip up Snap. The robot swayed, arms pinwheeling. Isadora darted forward and hurled her weight against it with a well-aimed shove. The mechanical monster fell over the side of the train in a crashing spectacle of sparks. Its powerful body must have severed the coupling, because the back half of the train jolted to a halt at once, accompanied by a deafening grinding and squealing.
“HELP!” Nelly bellowed. Addy tried to shout along with her, but not even a squeak came out.
In a sudden powerful gust, the lammergeyer flapped its wings, dispersing the smoke in a tornado of soot. Feeling a sharp wrench in her shoulder where the talon was now piercing her dress, Addy cupped protective hands around Catnip. The robotic bird lifted itself and its two identical prisoners a few inches into the air and then a few more.
“Addy!”
Wylder!
“You made it!” she cried. “Did you get the comic?”
“Got it!” He scrambled through the hole in the roof, blood spilling from his nose and Nevins’s controller in his hand. He grinned and pulled the comic out of his pocket.
“So do something!”
He stuck the comic in his mouth and pointed the controller.
“The blue button! Try the blue button!”
He did.
Nothing happened.
Addy’s toes dragged along the rooftop, bouncing over Flynn’s body. She was practically flying!
Wylder hurled the controller away. He shrieked her name and leapt to the rescue.
Wylder concentrated on one thing: hanging on to Addy. He had the comic in his teeth and both hands on her booted ankle. His feet scraped along the roof. Man, that lammergeyer was powerful! Enough to lift all three of them? The girls were shrieking. Wylder planted his feet and braced himself. He gave a sharp jerk, and Addy came free!
She fell into his arms. He teetered, struggling for balance. Over Addy’s shoulder he saw the lammergeyer sailing away, Nelly just a dot dangling from its claw. And then they were gone.
Out of sight.
He and Addy tumbled through the hole in the roof and into the car below. As he cried out, the comic fell from his mouth and fluttered to the floor.
