Billy Hooten (10 page)

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Authors: Tom Sniegoski

BOOK: Billy Hooten
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“Watch out for the innocent bystanders,” Archebold scolded over the speakers. “With heroes like you, who needs villains?”

“I'll give you an innocent bystander,” Billy grumbled, allowing the large ball to roll away from him as he got to his feet. It felt as though he'd just been punched in the chest by the entire sixth grade, and by the looks of it, the weapon was getting ready to fire again.

“Jeez, gimme a break,” he said, pushing himself to get moving again.

This time I'll take care of the citizens,
he thought, and with a show of unbelievable might started to pick up the monster figures one at a time and stack them over his shoulder. It appeared that being in Monstros had given him a boost in strength as well. He had just about collected all the dummy bystanders when the weapon discharged. Carefully balancing the fake citizens on his shoulder, he turned to see where the ball was going and was struck from behind. He and all those he had attempted to rescue went tumbling into a heap.

“Oh!” Archebold screeched excitedly from the booth. “Score one for the bad guys!”

Temporarily trapped beneath the pile of dummies, Billy emerged feeling madder than he had in quite
a while, the last such incident having something to do with an atomic wedgie and being hung from a doorknob.

It hadn't been one of his finer moments, and neither was this.

“Whatcha gonna do … Owlboy?” Archebold teased, his squeaky voice over the speaker system only making Billy angrier.

“I'll show you what I'm gonna do,” Billy blurted, adjusting the goggles on his face before marching toward the cannon. He had a plan. It was a little bit crazy, but at this point it was all he had.

“Oh no you don't!” Archebold said, and Billy could see the goblin in the booth above quickly manipulating the controls to aim the cannon directly at him.

Billy had noticed a whirring sound before the big gun fired, and he was hearing the sound right at that very moment. Standing in the path of the dodgeball cannon, he jumped up as it was about to fire. He grabbed hold of the thick silver barrel. Using every bit of his newfound superstrength, he bent the metal muzzle toward the ceiling and, with a loud grunt of exertion, pinched the end of the cannon off.

“Try shooting me now,” he said, a little out of breath as he dropped down to the floor, curious to see if his plan had worked.

The gun tried to fire, but it wasn't successful. Billy dove for cover, suspecting what was going to happen as the weapon suddenly rumbled, shook and then exploded, sending thick black smoke, twisted metal and hundreds of flying dodgeballs into the air.

Billy peeked out from behind the cover of the fat lady with the snakes for hair and her shopping cart, and as the smoke started to clear, he saw the full effect of his maneuver.

“Did I do that?” he asked as the bouncing balls started to settle and he saw what little was left of the dodgeball cannon. He couldn't help looking up at the control booth and smiling.

Archebold was standing in the window of the booth, a look of absolute shock upon his face.

“You … you broke the bombardment gun,” he stated in disbelief.

Billy looked over at the smoking remains of the weapon. “Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I was madder than I thought.” He made a muscle, feeling it through the material of his costume. It didn't pack much of a wallop back home, but here …

Archebold pulled his #1 Villain cap down tighter on his gourd-shaped head and returned his attention to the controls in front of him.

“No problem,” the goblin muttered as he flicked
some more switches. “I'll just get Halifax to fix it later. Let's pump up the volume a bit, shall we?”

Billy was about to ask who, or what, a Halifax was, but he never got the opportunity. The floor rumbled beneath his feet, and he watched as a section of artificial building pulled apart like two puzzle pieces to reveal one of the craziest-looking contraptions he had ever seen. It looked like a giant pair of robot legs. At the end of the legs was an equally gigantic pair of feet. But the weirdest part—
as if it could get any weirder
—was that the feet were wearing giant sneakers.

A creature covered in thick brownish fur and wearing dirty, grease-stained overalls was sitting in a high-backed seat between the mechanical legs, operating them with a series of levers. He gave Billy a little wave.

“What the heck is that?” Billy yelled up to the goblin with a chuckle, but just as the question had left his mouth, he watched in horror as the giant feet began stomping their way right toward the pile of dummy citizens he was supposed to be protecting.

“Remember the object of the game,” Archebold called out in an annoying singsong voice. “Oh, dear me, it looks like those poor people are about to get squashed.”

If he wanted to go through with this—if he
really
wanted to be Owlboy—Billy knew he had to do something
quickly. His thoughts racing, he ran toward the dummies, trying to come up with the best way to get them out of the path of the mechanical stomping feet.

And then he saw it.

Yahtzee!
Billy dove for the shopping cart of the lady with the snakes for hair.

Really putting on the speed, he righted the tipped cart and wheeled it toward the dummies.

The feet were coming closer, and he could feel the vibrating footfalls through the floor as he managed to pick up each and every dummy and load it into the cart.

After moving the last of the citizens—a werewolf wearing sunglasses, with a pink bow in her hair—Billy rushed to push the cart toward the center of the street. Seconds after he'd left the spot, one of the giant mechanical sneakers came down, missing him by a hair.

“Hey, that was kinda close!” Billy yelled up to the furry beast.

“Not close enough,” the creature growled, and the legs lurched toward him, ready to stomp him and the dummies to paste.

Billy started to run with the cart, turning his head to see if the feet were keeping up. Surprisingly, they were. In fact, they picked up speed and started to jog. Putting everything he had into it, Billy managed to get ahead of his pursuer, but he knew it wouldn't be for long.

He was beginning to realize that running wasn't the answer. Putting his brain cells into overdrive, he came up with another idea.

He wheeled the cartful of citizens onto the fake sidewalk beside the front steps of an apartment building. He removed the dummies from the cart and sat them on the apartment steps, an audience for what he hoped would follow.

“Now, if you'll excuse me, folks, I've got some things I need to take care of.”

Along the street he found the dodgeballs that had been scattered by the explosion of the bombardment cannon and started to gather them in the now empty cart.

“What's that, Billy?” Archebold asked. “Cleaning up before you're defeated by my stomping feet of doom? How nice.”

And then the goblin started to laugh maniacally.

Archebold really seems to be getting into this whole supervillain thing,
Billy thought as he collected the last of the big red rubber balls.

He backed away from the cart and looked down the street at the mechanical feet. The legs had come to a stop, the hairy driver watching him from within a forest of fur.

“C'mon,” Billy urged, striding closer. “I'm waiting for you.”

He'd presented himself as bait, but the driver of
the feet and legs wasn't biting. This called for drastic measures.

“Don't you want to stomp me? Well, here I am.” Billy watched him, waiting for a reaction, but still there was nothing.

It was time to pull out the big guns.

“What's the matter? Are you afraid …
Mary
?”

Being called by a girl's name—especially Mary, for some reason—was the ultimate attack on somebody's courage. It was always guaranteed—well, at least at Connery Elementary School—to get an explosive reaction.

Billy guessed correctly that the reaction would be similar here in Monstros.


Mary!
” he heard the hairy driver exclaim. “I'll show you who's a Mary!”

The mechanical legs started toward him, stomping the ground so hard that huge cracks appeared in the blacktop.

For a moment, Billy felt what could have been a touch of fear in the pit of his belly. Then he realized that it could also be the General Tso's Chicken he'd had that night.

Did the other Owlboys feel fear when facing the diabolical inventions of Dr. Mechano or the giant crabs of Sygnis 7?
he wondered.

Never.

So it had to be the chicken.

The sneaker-wearing mechanical feet were almost upon him. Billy knew it was time. As the device bore down on him and a foot rose up to squash him flat, Billy tipped over the cart of dodgeballs.

Leaping from the path of the foot's descent, Billy rolled onto his stomach to see if his latest scheme had worked. Coming down on top of the balls, the mechanical leg lost its balance. Billy could see the hairy driver attempting to regain the leg's footing, but no matter where the giant sneakers fell, they landed on rubber balls. Unable to stabilize itself, the device tipped dangerously to one side, crashing through the front of one of the fake apartment buildings.

“Yes!” Billy cheered, his fist shooting up into the air in victory. He watched with interest as the overall-wearing creature emerged from the rubble of the demolished building, jumped down from the wreckage of his craft and ran up the street.

“I've had enough of this!” he cried out, disappearing through a doorway into one of the fake stores.

“You'd better run,” Billy called after him. “Teach you to fool around with Owlboy.”

For the first time, the name felt right coming out of his mouth.

But his victory was short-lived.

“Not so fast, Hooten,” Archebold called. “I'm not done with you yet, I'm sorry to say.”

Billy tensed, wondering where the next threat to him—and the dummy citizens—would be coming from.

Suddenly, a spotlight blazed to life and illuminated an area not far ahead. Billy could see what looked like a kind of finish line. A white sign spelled out SAFETY ZONE in big red letters.

“You still have to get those under your protection to safety,” Archebold said. “Do you think you can handle that?”

Billy knew it wasn't likely to be easy. Archebold—at least this version of Archebold, doing his best imitation of a supervillain—was sure to have some tricks up his tuxedo sleeve.

“Handle it?” Billy said with all the confidence he could find. “I'm just getting warmed up.”

With those words, he dashed to the steps of the apartment building, retrieving the dummies and again placing them inside the shopping cart.

He didn't wait to see what the goblin had in store for him, grabbing hold of the handle of the cart and starting to push toward the finish line.

“Please keep your hands, feet and tentacles inside the cart until it comes to a complete stop,” he said as he began to pick up speed.

Archebold's laugh echoed throughout the structure, and Billy braced himself.

A hidden hatch in the ground ahead suddenly slid back and a long mechanical arm with twin spinning buzz-saw blades emerged, blocking his path. Billy barely had a chance to react. Pure instinct kicked in.

This is what it must feel like,
he thought, as he sank the heels of his rubber boots into the street, bringing the grocery cart to a sudden stop.
What it feels like to be a hero.

No chance getting by those,
he observed. The spinning buzz-saw blades blocked his way to the safety zone.

Billy had no choice and squatted down, grunting with exertion as he picked up the full shopping cart in his arms.

“If I can't get past them, I'll just have to go over them,” he said, and started to run full-tilt toward the spinning blades.

“Have you lost your mind, Billy?” Archebold asked mockingly, still in his supervillain mode. “The blades will cut you and those under your care into bacon!”

Billy thought he knew what he was doing, running as fast as he could toward the newest deathtrap, being extra careful not to spill the citizens from the cart. He was going to need to time this just right.

Just as the spinning blades were being thrust at him
at the ends of their mechanical arms, Billy jumped with all his strength.

Even with the additional weight of the cart, he soared over the revolving blades, landing in a stumbling run. The safety zone was even closer now, and he dropped the cart back on its rubber wheels and began pushing it toward victory.

“Impressive,” Archebold growled. “But you're not out of the woods yet!”

Billy pushed the shopping cart all the faster, victory so close that he could practically taste it.

And what does victory taste like?
he pondered, feeling his heart beating in his chest so hard that he was afraid it might break through his ribs and fall onto the street.
Probably like a double-thick chocolate milk shake with extra whipped cream and free refills.

And then he heard the weird buzzing sound.
This can't be anything good.
Billy didn't want to slow down, but curiosity got the better of him and he turned away from the looming finish line.

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