Expedition Westward
***
“Iri!” Winston cried.
He gaped in horror at the blasted carcass spread across his lap. Iridium’s head and front quarters had been blown away, his magnificent coat was shredded. Components littered the floor.
Winston did not even notice the shotgun pellets imbedded in his own body as a gigantic fist of grief slammed into him.
“Oh no ... Iri!”
The door burst open, another guard entered – a tall man with wild hair.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Father ... he’s dead!” Shotgun wailed.
“W-what?”
“Down there!”
Shotgun pointed to the window, sobs choked off his voice.
The tall guard rushed to the window, stepping over A. K.’s inert form, and peered out at the crumpled savior on the flagstones below.
“No ... it can’t be!” he gasped.
Shotgun jabbed a finger Winston’s direction. “It’s the demon spawn’s doing!”
“Oh yeah?” The tall guard said through gritted teeth.
He strode up to Winston and raised his gun. Through his anguish, Winston almost welcomed the end.
I’m ready to go, Great Technician in the Sky!
“YEE HAAA!”
A savage battle yell roared in from the hallway. The guards turned toward the door as Bert and his scrapper gang charged in, clubs swinging. All hell broke loose.
The tall guard’s rifle was knocked from his hands before he could pull the trigger. Shotgun fired a single blast, blowing one scrapper apart and halting the others in their tracks.
“Get him!” Bert cried.
The howling scrappers surged ahead. Shotgun chambered another round – too late. The infuriated enemy was upon him. A club bounced off his skull, then he was hurtling out the window to join his blessed savior.
The tall guard backed away, hands held up in entreaty.
“No! No!” he begged.
“Yes, yes!” Bert replied.
He tossed his club. It spun lazily through the air, end over end, striking the guard precisely in the center of his forehead.
“Ugh!”
The man staggered back, tripped over A. K., and tumbled out the window. His scream trailed away in the darkness.
“Nice shot, Chief!” one of the scrappers said.
A. K. blurred back into consciousness, raising himself onto his elbows.
“What the hell’s going on?” he said.
“Just a little housewarming party,” Bert said. “Here’s your invite.”
He waved his two lieutenants forward. Moments later, A. K. was also flying out the window. The man was too surprised to scream.
Deathly quiet settled on the detention room. Winston remained seated against the wall, Iridium’s corpse spread across his legs. Ripper remained in his corner, unmoving, observant.
Bert looked toward Winston, a perverse little smile twisting his face.
“Well, who have we got here?” He picked up a club from the fallen scrapper. “If it isn’t the guest of honor, himself!”
Winston moved out from under the wreckage and stood up.
“You’re real brave, now that Iridium’s gone,” he said. “You and your pathetic little gang.”
“Was that his name?” Bert said. “Good riddance, Iridium!”
“Why don’t you fight me robot to robot, you lousy coward?” Winston said. “I’ll only use one arm.”
“That’s not how it works, blue man.” Bert gestured to his companions. “Come on boys, let’s get this done.”
The scrappers began to advance just as Star burst in through the door. Again, her astonishing nude appearance brought the element of surprise. The scrappers gaped in astonishment.
“Here, Winston!”
She tossed him one of the candlesticks. Winston grasped it in both hands, felt its righteous power – like a holy sword of vengeance. He charged at Bert, weapon upraised.
“YAAA!”
But the scrapper leader was quick on his feet. He dodged away from the killing stroke. Winston swung again, he and Star waded into the gang, swinging furiously. One of the enemy robots fell, badly damaged, but regained his feet and continued fighting despite the great dent in his chest.
But it was an unequal contest. The scrappers soon gained the upper hand, driving Winston and Star back toward the gaping window.
“Destroy them both!” Bert howled.
Meanwhile, Ripper sat idly by in his corner, his head turning back and forth as if he were watching a tennis match.
“Help us!” Winston cried.
But Ripper could do nothing without a direct order from his pack leader. And his pack leader had been reduced to a pile of blasted junk.
Winston dropped to the floor and tumbled away.
“Get him!” Bert shrieked.
Before anyone could stop him, Winston had rolled to Iridium’s corpse and tore off a swatch of tattered coat. He waved it a Ripper.
“Come on, help us!”
Ripper gazed dumbly at the token of its fallen leader, uncertain what to do. A pair of scrappers yanked Winston to his feet.
“Outside with you, friend,” one of them said cheerily, as if he was inviting Winston to a tea party.
They dragged Winston toward the window where Star was helplessly pinioned by Bert and another scrapper.
“Oh, Winston!” she cried. “I love you so much!”
Winston struggled fiercely, but could not break free. He was nearly at the window now, he tried to reach toward Star ...
Ripper finally came to a decision in his dull mind. He leaped into action, tearing apart the nearest scrapper with such violence that its components ricocheted off the walls. Everyone watched, stunned.
“Go for it!” Winston cheered.
Ripper seized another scrapper. Winston tackled Bert and held him to the floor, pounding the one-armed robot’s head with both fists.
“You should have taken my offer when you had the chance!” Winston taunted.
The scrapper with the caved in chest tumbled over, unable to offer further resistance. Ripper took its head off with a surgical snip. Star kicked it out the window like a football.
“So long, friend!” she cried.
Ripper closed in on the final scrapper, fangs bared and coat bristling. The terrified robot backed away, holding up his hands pleadingly.
“N-nice doggie,” he said. “You don’t want to hurt me, do you?”
Ripper looked toward Winston.
“Finish him!” Winston slashed a finger across his throat area in a universal gesture.
The mech wolf readied itself to pounce. The scrapper dashed to the window and jumped out. His screams shattered the night air like the sweetest music.
Winston turned his attention back to Bert. “Do you have a vehicle, Rust Bucket?”
Bert refused to answer.
“Talk, or I’ll turn you over to that werewolf gentleman,” Winston said.
He signaled Ripper with the fragment of Iridium’s coat. The mech wolf approached, all growls and flashing yellow eyes. It stuck its muzzle into Bert’s face.
“Yes, I’ve got a truck!” Bert practically screamed.
Ripper opened its jaws, reaching for Bert’s throat.
“I can drive you,” Bert yelled, “anywhere you want!”
Winston waved Ripper off.
“Now you’re talking sense,” he said.
The mech wolf retreated to its corner and lay down obediently. From there it glowered at Bert, waiting for the slightest provocation.
Star approached Iridium’s wreckage.
“Iri ... my poor Iri.”
She fell to her knees, sobbing.
Shouts and gunfire erupted from elsewhere in the castle. Winston slammed the door shut and barricaded it with wrecked scrappers. Birds were hovering by the window now. They began streaming inside where they circled around Iridium, cheeping mournfully.
“We have to go, no
w!” Winston yelled.
He waved the talisman of Iridium’s coat at the birds. Thank the Great Technician, they chose to obey his summons.
A group of birds seized the back packs and disappeared out the window with them. Another group went after Ripper. The mech wolf whined piteously and tried to flee but was snatched away.
Winston pulled Star to her feet and embraced her.
“Iri’s gone,” he said. “We can’t do anything for him now.”
Out in the hallway, enraged cultists battered at the door, cursing.
“Let’s go,” Winston said.
Star hung her head in sorrow as a mass of birds lifted her out the window. Winston grabbed Bert’s arm.
“If you try anything, I’ll rip this one off, too,” he said. “Got it!”
The scrapper chief nodded assent.
A mass of birds grabbed Winston and Bert as a single package and carried them out the window.
Moments later, the chief acolyte and Brother George burst through the door. They paused, stunned by the sight of so much destruction. Then they rushed to the window.
“Over there!” The chief acolyte pointed into the sky.
They opened fire.