Attack of the Giant Robot Chickens (3 page)

I laughed right back. “Your fortress? This place?” I gestured around at the glass walls of the library. “Haven’t you ever played Angry Birds?”

He scowled at me and Rayna chose this moment to butt back in.

“So, Glen – you need to know you can trust us first?”

He turned back to her. “No offence, Ambassador. I just need to know that your word is true.”

She shrugged. “All right. So why don’t you pick something else for us to get, something that’s not quite such a big deal but that will still prove that we can be trusted?”

He thought about it for a second, then nodded.

“I’ve got it. I know exactly what you can get me. Wait here a moment.”

He disappeared off among the shelves. Rayna and I just had time to exchange a confused look before he was back, flipping through what looked like a thick book. As he got closer I saw it was a catalogue.

“It was here somewhere…” Glen muttered to himself, then nodded. He turned the catalogue round and handed it to Rayna, tapping an item. “There. I want that.”

She took the book and gave it a quick look. “A TV,” she said. “You want me to get you a TV?”

“Not just any TV. That very specific TV.”

“Why?”

He just smiled at her. “I need it. Now, are you going to get it for me or not?”

“I guess. It won’t be easy, though. Which shop even stocks this?”

She turned the catalogue round to get a look at the front cover as Glen answered.

“Argos.”

“Argos?” Rayna asked, fear creeping into her voice. I realised what the problem was.

“Yes, Argos,” Glen replied, all grins. “You’ll find it on Union Street.”

“Look, I’m sure that there’s something else we could get him. A nice new jacket or something. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Rayna grunted at me and kept walking. I tried again.

“You don’t even need to go. I’m sure that he trusts you. I’m probably the one at fault. So why don’t you stay with him and I’ll go get it alone?”

She seemed to consider that for a while then shook her head. “No, we’ve got to do this. If we get split up then we might not be able to find each other again. And we can’t just get something else. If we don’t bring back exactly what he wants us to then he’s not going to trust us and this whole thing is pointless. So we go, we get the TV, then we get out as fast as we can.”

I sighed and nodded. “I guess you’re right. But what has you so freaked out about Union Street?”

She stopped for a second as if considering telling me, then shook her head and walked on. “You still wouldn’t believe me. Now come on.”

I followed her, wondering if she was right. After Glen had told us what he wanted, she’d nodded in a sort of trance then turned to leave. I’d followed her, sending a threatening glare back over my shoulder at Glen so he’d know not to double cross us. I’m not sure it had worked; he was taller than me as well.

After that we’d gone to a retail park just up the road and spent the night camping in the sofa store there. This morning, Rayna had seemed better, but she still
wasn’t in what I’d call a good mood. So as we walked I tried to take her mind off it.

“Hey, I’ve got a question,” I said to her. She didn’t look at me, just kept on walking.

“If it’s a chicken joke then I’m going to punch you in the face,” she said, matter-of-factly. Yikes.

“No, no, it’s not that,” I answered quickly. “I was just wondering… if Glen has enough food to live comfortably, why is he wanting more? Was he bluffing?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Certainly he’s wanting a lot of food on a regular basis.”

“How much?”

“About a hundred cans a week.”

I whistled. “Seriously? That’s a lot. What’s he wanting with so much food? He already looks well-fed.”

She shrugged. “I think he’s covering for someone. Though he won’t say it, I think that he’s got a little group of his own in there. My guess is that only he is ever around because then if someone turns him in somehow only he’ll get taken and the others will be safe.”

“People do that? Turn other people in to the chickens?” I was horrified. I’d never heard of that happening before.

Rayna had been relaxing up until now, but she tensed up again. “Yup. It can happen.”

That put a damper on that conversation and we walked along in silence for a while. Eventually I broke it.

“You know there’s another explanation,” I told her. She looked back over her shoulder and down at me.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“He could just be really greedy.”

She looked at me for a second then burst into
laughter. I joined in, pleased to have cheered her up.

“I mean look at him,” I carried on. “He doesn’t look like he’s in any danger of starving to death.”

She kept on laughing, though she managed to choke it down and change it into chuckles. I copied her. Laughter could be heard and though we hadn’t seen any evidence of chickens so far, it didn’t mean that there weren’t any around.

“Why can’t you be like that a bit more often?” she asked, once she’d finally regained control of herself.

“What?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.

She smiled at me. “Funny,” she said, gently poking me in the arm. “Instead of all the chicken jokes.”

I shrugged. “The chicken jokes aren’t for anyone but me. There’s a reason behind them.”

“And what is that?” she asked but I shook my head.

“Na-uh,” I replied. “I know your name now but we still aren’t even.”

She tilted her head to one side, a hint of a smile still on her face. “How so?”

“Well… I don’t know where you come from. If you want to know why I tell chicken jokes then I want to know why you swan about on your own as an ambassador instead of joining a group.”

She stared at me levelly. “I don’t know where you come from either! Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”

“Oh.” That hadn’t occurred to me. Maybe I was just paranoid. “I don’t come from around here.”

“So where do you come from? And why does it matter?”

We were about halfway down George Street by now, just passing a leafy park-like area. I took a quick look around, pretending to be looking for chickens, but
instead taking the time to think about what she’d said.

“I’m from out in the country.” I told her after we’d walked a bit further. “From this kind of run-down town called Kemnay. It’s pretty isolated. I mean it’s big enough. A fair number of shops, an academy and two primary schools. But the buses don’t go there that much for some reason. It’s like every two hours before you can get into Aberdeen. I was coming in with my brother to see a movie when the attack happened. I lost track of him in the chaos and ended up with the guys at the train station.”

“So?” she asked. “Why’s that a big deal?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t know anyone in town, and they didn’t know me. Everyone else knew at least one person in the group from before the attack, but I didn’t. I just never felt like I belonged with them. And I miss my brother. It’s been a lonely few months.”

“You never felt like just trying to get along with them?”

I shook my head again. “You don’t understand. I mean, where are you from?”

“Stonehaven.”

That was a shock. She was an out-of-towner, like me. “You aren’t from around here either? But you know your way around so well. I thought you were an Aberdeen native.”

She just smirked at me. “Well some of us haven’t been staying in the train station all the time. I spent the winter exploring and trying to find all the groups. Don’t blame me for not lying around feeling sorry for myself like you.”

I turned away from her, scowling. Then a thought hit me. “Is that why you do it? All the travelling around? You don’t know anyone either?”

She didn’t answer, just stared ahead, a distant look on her face. “We should stop talking. We’re almost there and we don’t want to be distracted.”

I decided not to push it.

Eventually we turned off George Street and headed towards the Central Library. We climbed the same staircase that I’d gone down with Sam and Mike the day before and walked across the street, our backs to the library. At the base of the stairs I stopped, pretending to catch my breath. The close encounter here with the chicken had only been yesterday. Even though I knew that it was probably long gone part of me expected to find it at the top of the stairs. But there was nothing there. I could see the shopping centre where Argos was. We were getting really close now. One more street and we’d be there.

Rayna looked left and right, as if checking for traffic. I did as well, though I still had no idea what I was actually looking for. She must not have seen anything because she quickly dashed across the road. I followed her, not wanting to be left behind. All of the city was deserted and slightly creepy but now this place felt even worse.

We entered the shopping centre and Rayna gestured inwards. “You go get it,” she told me. “I’ll stay here and keep watch.”

I crept in. It was gloomy, the only light coming in from dirty windows set in the roof. I knew from past visits that Argos was at the back, tucked away to the left. I knew chickens could never get in here, but I kept jumping at every little creak. After passing a couple of deserted stalls I found the shop I was looking for. I had to stop to fish my head torch out of my jacket pocket and tie it on to my forehead. Then I stepped out of the
light.

There were no windows in Argos and without electricity the lights were all off. I could only see what was within the small white circle of my torch. It moved as I did, always pointing where I was looking. Occasionally it would streak across the walls as I whipped my head to the side, convinced that I’d seen something moving out of the corner of my eyes. But there was never anything.

I walked behind the counter and entered the storeroom. It was well ordered and I was able to find the TV surprisingly easily. I doubled-checked the number I’d written down from the catalogue and opened the box. The TV was there, small and slim, with a crank on the back to power it. So that was why Glen needed this particular one. He could power it himself. It was a shame I could only take one. I stuffed it in my backpack and headed back.

On the way I passed Waterstones and paused. I thought about what Rayna had said about Glen protecting others and felt a bit of respect for the guy. He was still kind of a jerk, but he looked after his own. It wouldn’t hurt to bring some more stuff back for him. Plus, it was likely to sweeten the deal.

I entered the shop and went to the left, where I knew the science fiction section was. I figured that would probably be the sort of thing he was interested in. A title caught my eye and I stopped. It was called
Wings of Bronze.
It must have been quite a big deal because it was on table all of its own, big signs saying ‘New Book!’ flapping around it in the breeze from the open door. It actually looked quite interesting, something about airships and robots. I decided to grab one for myself as well. I crammed Glen’s copy of
Wings of Bronze
in
my rucksack, and stuffed my own copy in my jacket pocket.

Finally, I heaved the rucksack on to my back and started towards the door. Then I stopped, frowning. Rayna was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t think she would have wandered off but I couldn’t think of any other reason for her not being around. I knew it wasn’t a chicken. I’d have heard it coming.

So I walked outside, gently called her name, only to find a white mass standing in front of me. A white mass of people in robes.

A bag was shoved over my head and I was marched swiftly along. Hands gripped my arms tightly and steered me in the direction they wanted me to go, occasionally clutching at me when I stumbled. Occasionally I heard a grunting and one of the group would mutter something. I could just make out Rayna’s voice protesting as they hurried us along. At least we were still together. I clenched my fists and started taking deep breaths to calm myself, glad that they couldn’t see it through the hood. I’d survived the chickens up to now. I could survive this.

Soon I felt something crunch beneath my feet and realised that I was walking on gravel, not pavement. Not long after that they took me inside somewhere. I stumbled a bit on the stone steps and when I started walking again I could hear my footsteps echoing. Wherever we were, it was big.

Eventually I was shoved into a seat. Rope was wrapped around me and I was bound in place. Footsteps echoed their way away from me and I was alone. I could no longer hear anyone complaining so I figured that they’d taken Rayna with them. It was just me and my imagination. I didn’t like that. They’d kidnapped me and now they thought they could just abandon me?

“So….” I started. My voice boomed around me and I stopped for a moment. “That’s pretty cool. You get great echoes here. Do you ever try singing?”

I then launched into an off key version of ‘Old Man River.’ I didn’t really like the song but Dad had taught it to me and sung just right it could bounce all over a tunnel in a pretty cool way.

My singing was muffled a bit by the sack and I couldn’t really hear properly for the same reason, but it had the desired effect. Before I finished the first verse, the footsteps were back.

“Quiet!” someone snapped at me. I stopped.

“There you are. Do you want to let me see you? Or are you just… chicken?”

I was expecting to be hit or something but I couldn’t resist. Besides, they might see my comedy genius and release me. Weirder things had happened.

It certainly made an impression. There was a stunned silence then the voice spoke again.

“You speak wisdom. Please wait for one second. I’ll summon the Brotherhood.”

He ran off, but sure enough he was back again in a second. And from the way the echoes were bouncing all over the place he’d brought friends. There was a murmuring and then the bag was removed, much more gently then it had been put on. The light hurt my eyes, even though it was dim, and I looked around, blinking, not quite sure what the white shapes were. And then, when my eyes finally did focus, I thought I’d gone mad.

I was in a large church. Light shone in through the stained glass windows, painting bright splashes of colour over the stone walls that surrounded me like a cave. It was an awe-inspiring sight. And it was completely ruined by the weird people who filled it.

Around me were about thirty kids, ranging from a few years younger than me to a few years older. And
they were covered in feathers. They’d got white clothes and glued feathers all over them, everywhere they could. Their insane fancy dress project had included making cones of card and wearing them over their faces. I took a quick look at their feet and was confused to see that they were all wearing slippers, the sort that makes your feet look like Godzilla’s. Even going by the last few months they were some of the weirdest looking people I’d ever seen.

One of them stepped forward. He’d dyed his hair a brilliant shade of red and gelled it up so that it rose in a giant wave above him, towering over everyone else. He probably needed it because apart from that he was a very weedy boy, probably a year younger than me and even shorter. And when you’re shorter than me you’ve got issues.

I was so shocked by what I was seeing that I couldn’t even laugh.

“Welcome, Stranger, to the Brotherhood of the Egg.”

I couldn’t help it any more. It was too much. I burst out into laughter. There was too much to hold back. It all tried to come out at once and some got caught in my parched throat, so instead of chuckles all I could emit was a weird choking noise. The ‘Brotherhood’ stared at me for a second, then started doing the same.

The one who had already spoken seemed startled.

“Stranger, who are you that know of our secret tongue?”

By this point I’d run out of air and stopped to get breath. The others continued copying my choking noises, however and the weird sound filled the space.

It was too much to take in so I looked around me, trying to find something I could relate to. That’s when I
saw Rayna, who was tied to another chair. Apparently they hadn’t kept us separate after all. They’d just gagged her.

I jerked my head around questioningly and raised my eyebrows. She just shrugged and rolled her eyes. Whatever was happening, she wasn’t impressed. No surprise there then.

“Stranger,” the short one said again, bringing my attention back to him. The rest seemed to have calmed down. “Who are you and why do you know so much about us?”

I decided to be serious for once. “I honestly have no idea who you are and I have no clue about any of this.”

This caused a brief discussion among the crowd. “Could it be?” one of them yelled. “The chosen one?”

“The chosen one,” the rest echoed. Shorty looked around in alarm.

“There’s no call for that,” he squeaked. “He just got lucky and said the right thing. There’s no need to get our feathers ruffled.”

The crowd seemed calmed by that. Shorty stared at them for a moment then turned back to me.

“We are the Brotherhood of the Egg,” he repeated, seeming annoyed. “We worship our rightful masters who have returned to claim the world.”

I’m not the sharpest person in the world (though I might have been the sharpest person in that room) but I guessed what he was meaning. “Chickens?” I asked. “You worship the chickens?”

“The chickens are our masters!” the crowd chorused, flapping their arms and scratching at the ground with their slipper-covered feet. Shorty raised up his arms and screeched into the air.

“Yes, the glorious feathered ones, who have shown us the way!”

I stared at him for a moment. “Chickens?” I repeated.

“The chickens are our masters,” the crowd said again, making the gestures. Shorty glared at me.

“Stop that,” he told me.

“Stop what?”

“Stop naming them.”

“Oh.” I raised my eyebrows innocently. “You mean stop saying chickens.”

“The chickens are our masters.” The crowd did the dance again. It looked like some of them were getting sore arms.

“Yes,” Shorty said. “Stop saying chickens.”

“The chickens are our masters.”

“Oh for feather’s sake.” He turned away from me for a second. “Our masters like the praise but we don’t have to do this every time.”

“Yes,” I said helpfully, leaning slightly to the side so I could be seen by the crowd. “Let’s all stop saying chickens.”

“The chickens are our masters!”

“So that’s what you do all day?” I asked. “You worship the chic…”

Shorty was faster than I’d given him credit for. He managed to spin away from the crowd and clap a hand across my mouth before I could finish the word. The rest of the group came to a halt and stood meekly, waiting to see what happened next.

“Yes,” Shorty hissed, glaring into my eyes. I’d made him angry within five minutes of meeting him. I think that might have been a record. “We worship the feathered ones. Don’t use their name lightly, for they are mighty and can crush you. Like a worm.”

I shook my head free of his hand and looked around. “You’re all featherbrains,” I said, dutifully making the easy pun.

For some reason this seemed to go down well. They all looked at each other and a new murmur rose. Encouraged, I continued.

“I mean, look at you. The Brotherhood of the Egg? More like the Fanatics of Flap.”

This one actually got a cheer. I stared at them in confusion. None of my puns or taunts had ever got a cheer before. Mostly people just ignored them. But if I really did have an audience who appreciated my talents then I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

“I don’t know anything about you, but I can figure it all out just by looking. I mean Shorty here is obviously your leader. Tell me, is he in charge just because he fluffed his hair?”

This got a few nods and sniggers, though I couldn’t tell if it was because of the fluffed comment or because I’d called their leader Shorty. He obviously didn’t like it. With a deep breath he drew himself up and addressed me as sternly as he could.

“My name is Egbert and I am indeed leader here. And you are our prisoner and should stay quiet.”

This gave me an idea. I might actually be able to get us out of here.

I copied Egbert and tried straightening a bit, straining against the bonds. The effect was probably about as impressive as it had been on him but I managed to gain an extra inch or two.

“Then shame on you for repeating the mistakes of the humans,” I bellowed back at him.

He certainly wasn’t expecting that. He just blinked slowly, staring at me. I looked sideways and caught
Rayna’s eye. She was looking just as confused. I winked at her and continued talking.

“Our chicken masters spent too long locked in cages and now you seek to repeat that suffering? Release my friend and me at once!”

Egbert just laughed but behind him I could see that the rest of the cult were looking at each other. My words had certainly caused confusion, if nothing else. They barely remembered to do the chant and dance at the word ‘chickens’.

“And that is not all. You insult them by trying to steal their image.”

They stopped talking and just stared at me. Maybe they hadn’t understood all the words. Some of them had to be as young as six. To make my point more clear I nodded at their clothes. “What sort of feathers are those? They’d better not be chicken feathers.”

Another chorus of “The chickens are our masters!” rolled out before Egbert could stop it. He glared at them angrily before turning back to me. He was good at glaring.

“Of course not. They’re from pigeons and craft shops.”

I nodded at the slippers. “And what about them? They don’t look like chicken feet to me.”

He did actually blush a bit at that, his face turning as red as his hair. “Well chi… the feathered ones used to be dinosaurs. So we use dinosaur foot slippers. This is the closest that we could get.”

“But they’re not quite right, are they? It’s nothing to crow about.”

I could hear a dull thudding coming from Rayna’s direction. By the sound of things she was slowly banging her head against her chair because my puns were so
bad. But I was sure I was getting through to them.

“You don’t copy their image correctly, but even if you did, do you have the right to strut around dressed like them? Did they give you permission?”

With a desperate glance around Egbert tried to change the subject.

“What we wear is not the issue here. You are.”

I would have folded my arms if I could but instead I just tried to look regal. “What is it that you ask of me?” I figured that the new tone would sink in well. And I was right.

“Do you accept the feathered ones as your rightful masters?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Of course I do. What sort of an idiot wouldn’t?”

The look on his face was priceless. His mouth just sort of gaped open and he seemed completely lost for words. “What did you say?”

“I said of course I do. Look at what they have made of this world. What sense would there be in denying it?”

“But… but… you aren’t one of us!” Shorty was really having trouble grasping that I might actually believe his madness. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“And yet I’m here,” I replied. “Is it not said that birds of a feather flock together?”

That seemed to go down well. My greatest hope was that they wouldn’t realise that I was speaking absolute rubbish.

Egbert looked around. “I don’t believe you,” he told me, rather stiffly. I just grinned at him.

“For what reason do you not believe me? What have I done that may cause you to think that I feel otherwise about our glorious masters? The chickens?”

“The chickens are our masters!”

I don’t think he’d ever had to think about stuff like this before. I had no idea how this whole thing had started but I was pretty sure that not a lot of thought had gone into it.

“Well… why do you believe that they are our masters?” Shorty demanded.

“Because they are unbeatable. The adults have left us behind and now there are only the chickens. Why shouldn’t we follow them? I’m not an egghead but I know that much.”

“Prove it. Prove you follow them.”

I thought frantically then realised something I could use to my advantage. “Look in my jacket pocket. The inside one.”

Egbert gave me a suspicious glare, then gestured to one of his followers, who walked forward nervously. She looked about six and was obviously terrified. I felt sorry for her and gave her an encouraging smile.

“Don’t worry,” I told her. She smiled back and fished about inside my coat. She soon found the book and pulled it out. “Read the title.”

“
Wings of Bronze,
” she said, loudly and carefully, then her eyes widened. She dropped the book in my lap and backed away.

“See?” I called loudly. “I even read books about chickens!”

Shorty glanced around in irritation then his eyes fell on Rayna, who he’d apparently forgotten up until now. He pointed triumphantly at her.

“If you are so committed then why did you travel with her? We have seen her before and we know that she is no true friend of the chickens. We know that she seeks their downfall, although they will never be defeated.”

That was interesting to know. Shorty’s faith in the
chickens seemed dependent on them being unbeatable. If Glen really did have a way to beat the chickens then this lot would collapse as well. I filed that away for later use and focused back on the issue at hand.

“I did not know this,” I replied. “But what does it matter what she thinks? The chickens are unbeatable. Everyone knows that.”

“Everyone but her, apparently. And this is an insult to the chickens. We must give her up to them. Though,” and this last bit was obviously said grudgingly, “you seem to have merit, Stranger.”