Revenge of the Giant Robot Chickens (6 page)

After the darkness inside, the weak sun was blinding as we left the Asda. The scavengers didn’t speak much, just collected the trolleys that we’d already filled and set off home. They just wanted to get far away as fast as possible.

I was ready to go with them. But Glen wouldn’t let me.

“We’re so close,” he said to me and Blake in a stage whisper as we held a small meeting. “We just have to walk up that hill and we’re there.”

“He’s right,” Blake said shortly. He wasn’t very happy about being shown up by the chicken.

“I don’t know,” I said, chewing my bottom lip. “It feels like a big risk. We should get home while we have the chance.”

“Please, Rayna,” Glen said, tugging on my sleeve. “We won’t get another chance. There’s no way the council will let me try again after this. Everyone will vote against it.”

“It would be a waste not to try,” Blake agreed. “We’ve already been attacked once. I don’t think it’ll happen again. We were sent here for a reason so we should finish the job.”

“Alright but we’ve got to be quick.” I didn’t have much choice but to agree.

The university campus wasn’t far away. We trudged up the hill, Glen, Blake and what was left of his crew.
Some of them had been taken out by the chicken and were snoring away in the trolleys being pushed home, along with Stevey. Those of us who were left didn’t talk much. I don’t know about the others but I had my own reasons for keeping silent.

I was scared.

More than scared, I was terrified. Completely and utterly petrified.

It felt uncomfortable. I hadn’t been this scared of the chickens since the night I’d seen my sister get taken. Sure, I’d never been happy to see them, and when I was close to getting caught once or twice I’d been scared. But not this way. This was different. This chicken was so much more terrifying than the others. I didn’t want to ever face that thing again, see that blank expression so close to my face, those weird green eyes. I was frightened. Plain and simple.

But more than that, I was annoyed. If we were attacked today then Jeremy should have been the spy. That was the whole point of my plan. Perhaps it wasn’t such a great plan after all. Now that Jeremy had been taken we were back at square one and down a council member. Just one step closer to that line on Cody’s chart.

The Robert Gordon University campus came into view at the crest of the hill, just round a bend. Now we faced the slight problem of figuring out how to reach it. We tried going down an obvious path that led to the walkway below, but iron handrails blocked our way. In the end we just clambered over them and tramped
across the grass and some roses that were beginning to wilt. Autumn was almost here. It was nearly a year since the chickens had first attacked. Scary.

There was no electricity, but it was easy enough just to prise open the automatic doors. Then we were in.

In contrast to the Aberdeen University glass-cube library where Glen had spent the first part of the war, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make this place look nice. The modern space had an intelligent futuristic feel. There was a wide white wall at the far end of a curving high corridor. This must be the atrium. There were several walkways for people to bustle along and look important and a few bridges over a long corridor. Off to the right there was an area shaped like some sort of gladiatorial pit. Maybe a reading area? The lights in there were made to look like pine cones.

Glen was looking around with wide eyes, obviously loving everything he was seeing. He spotted a sign for the Computing Department, grabbed my arm and pulled me along. “Come on, this way,” he cried, practically dragging me. I dug in my heels, slowing him down.

“Careful, Doc,” I said, using Jesse’s nickname for him. “Don’t run too far ahead. Keep together and move slowly. That way we can protect you, as well as each other and not get ambushed.”

“Alright. Though I don’t think that thing’s going to be back. Is it?” He looked at me sideways, suddenly unsure.

I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand I wanted to reassure him. On the other I couldn’t promise the giant black chicken wouldn’t be back. But Blake interrupted anyway.

“I hope it does,” he said, swinging him shock-stick menacingly. “This time we’ll get to deal with it properly. No hiding in the dark. Just a fair five-on-one fight.”

Blake’s crew all nodded confidently at his words. I looked at Glen and shrugged. “What he said,” I told him.

Glen seemed to accept that and started off again. I followed, keeping an eye on my surroundings. I didn’t think it would show up again. But it never hurt to be careful.

Glen led us up some stairs to a computer lab. Then he started rummaging about. I watched, alarmed. “Hey, Glen,” I said. “How long do you think this is going to take?”

“I’ll let you know when I’ve found it,” he told me. I didn’t like the sound of that. I had assumed that he’d somehow know where it would be. There was nothing to do but wait and be vigilant.

Until one of Blake’s guys who’d been standing sentry came running up. “Bad news, guys,” he said. “It’s back.”

He pointed out the window and I followed the direction of his finger.

There it was, stalking across the grass, the same as we’d done, its beak to the ground as if following our scent. For the first time I got a good view of it. It looked like a chicken, obviously, but more sleek. Its
feathers seemed individually cut and rustled slightly as it moved. Except on the wings, which looked like solid slabs of steel. Green orbs glowed in place of eyes – the only colour on it, everything else was menacing black. It looked up at our building a few times and I had to tell myself that it couldn’t see us.

Blake cursed softly and joyously under his breath. “Found what you’re looking for yet?” he asked.

“No… not yet,” Glen replied, anxious. “I need more time.”

“Then I guess it’s our job to buy you that time.” Blake jerked his head from side to side, cracking his neck. Then he cracked his knuckles. Carefully he took off his heavy jacket and laid it on the ground. The others did the same.

“Come on, team. Let’s see how
it
likes being ambushed for once. Rayna, you stay here and look after Glen. And start composing some epic victory songs.”

He ran off, his crew snapping at his heels. Crazy. They were absolutely crazy.

Glen kept searching, but I turned back to the window. I wanted to see what would happen next.

The chicken stalked up to the same door we’d come through. Blake and his team had vanished. The huge black robot walked through the door and looked right up at me. It took a menacing step forward.

“Get it lads!”

The chicken hunters swarmed up from behind the reception desk and charged at the giant bird. It hopped back, its wings spread, as if trying to flutter
away.

“Hailey, entangle it. Get it into the pit thing!”

One of the group pulled a chain from some pocket deep in her jacket and whipped it at the chicken’s leg, tugging sharply. The rest poked at it with their sticks. They drove it back to the lip of the sunken pit I’d noticed earlier then forced it in.

Blake stroke forward. “Not so tough now, are you?” he taunted and swung his shock-stick.

I thought I saw the chicken’s eyes flash. It raised a wing and the staff bounced off it with no effect. It looked angry.

Blake stepped back and settled down into a boxing stance. “This just got interesting.”

I returned to Glen, who was kneeling next to some boxes, playing with some sticky notes. “We’ve got a little bit of time.”

“Good,” he said, getting to his feet. “Let’s get going.”

For the next ten minutes Glen and I searched room after room, Glen scribbling in his notebook as he went. Although the university looked pretty, I wish it had been better organised. If I ever get to design a university it will have lots of arrows all over the place saying things like, ‘Emergency transmitters this way!’

Finally our luck ran out. As we hurried along the next walkway we witnessed the chicken and Blake’s crew in a battle of the ages.

I’ll say it again, as I’ve said it before. They might be crazy. They might be downright insane. But Blake and his crew certainly knew how to fight. Four of them stood
with their shock-sticks glowing in their hands against the dark mass that was the chicken. One already lay on the ground, stick lying a few inches from her fingertips.

The rest of the crew were putting up a good fight. They danced around the robot, hitting it several times all over its body, changing direction, jumping over strikes and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Blake was right in among them, always trying to strike the chicken’s face and hold its attention while his crew did what they did best. The robot struck at them with its wings but they either dodged or blocked with their sticks, throwing up glowing blue sparks. I couldn’t believe they’d held it off for ten minutes.

But as valiant as they were, it was all in vain. At the end of the day they couldn’t hurt the chicken, and it only had to land a glancing blow for the shock in its wings to incapacitate them. Someone was swept out of the air with a lucky flick, someone else wasn’t quite fast enough to jump a hefty clawed kick. One by one they fell, until only Blake was left.

He gave a scream of rage and charged forward, swinging his shock-stick hard. The chicken turned sharply, just brushing Blake with the edge of its wing, but that was enough. The sparks flew and Blake was felled at last.

Then the chicken turned and stared directly at us.

“Oh no,” I moaned and grabbed Glen’s hand, pulling him along. He hadn’t been following the fight; he’d been scribbling frantically in his notebook the whole time. Maybe he was making up the epic song Blake had
requested. Though I was scathing of the guy, I had to admit he kind of deserved it after that performance.

We ran through corridors, then stopped when we realised our boots were making a lot of noise against the pristine white floor. I glanced wildly around, Glen waiting for my instructions.

“Get in here and stay quiet.” I pulled him into a room and we hid behind a desk. Through the glass panel of the door we watched the corridor outside.

Then we heard it: a gentle
tap-tap-tapping
that echoed strangely around us. I felt the goosebumps shiver and migrate across my skin.

It was coming.

Closer and closer the sound came:
tap, tap, tap, tap
. A shadow passed across the door and I stared at it in mute horror, praying that it would pass.

It slowed and stopped, looked around with those awful green eyes. I felt the sudden mad impulse to laugh, to 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 but
it 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, heading
straight 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 arm
for 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.