Champion of the Bots ✔️

Chapter 11 ~ RENA

Rena peeked from behind the flower bush.

She couldn't sleep. After all, what was the point of sleeping after crash-landing on an island and being strangled by a Bot?

The coast was clear. She stuck her foot through the bushes—

Crackle.

She ducked.

"What was that?"

"I don't know. Probably just a rabbit," replied a low voice.

Peeking through the bushes, Rena could see the glowing tent and the shadowy figures inside. After rummaging through the broken Savior plane, Sid found little green pouches and announced another hidden feature he stuck on the plane. Pulling on the cords, mansion-sized tents rose like mountains—tents for the wounded, for the sick, for the toddlers and mothers, for the lame and old, and for the council meeting.

Rena knew she should go back to the campsite. She knew she should just let the Bot die—but she couldn't. She wouldn't.

She was so close, just ten bunny-hops away from the tent. But first, she had to get through the two guards, who stood as silhouettes in the dim lights that shrugged their broad shoulders in the darkness and hefted their heavy rifles over their shoulder.

She could vaguely see the tousled hair of one soldier that melded with the dark and the faint tinge of orange hair of the other man illuminated by the tent. If she could just get closer, Rena could almost see the bat of long eyelashes and the small spray of saliva as the man chatted quietly.

"Maybe Big Foot is here," said the low voice.

"Big Foot?" The orange hair jostled.

"Haven't you heard the story?"

The other man shrugged again. "No."

"Well, people always have stupid myths and stories to scare people; but I believe this one is true."

The man leaned in towards his friend. So did Rena.

"It was on the day of the Grey. People remember seeing blood falling from the sky, but they also remember an enormous creature of grey. With spikes like a porcupine, the creature rammed into buildings, spitting stone and glass. With eyes as blue as flames, it froze its victims with its vicious stare. For many centuries, people had always called the creature Big Foot because of its large mysterious footprints left in the woods. But, really, it was its hands."

"Then why not call it Big Hand?" The other man interrupted.

Rena stifled her laughter.

"Really? Big Hand?"

"Sorry. Please continue."

"Anyways. This creature was a pet of Elyon's to murder—half machine half animal. People say that he used to ride on it, monitoring his city and his people. But the creature was still animal; and one day, it broke loose." Rena saw the dark-haired head bob slightly.

"Oh, no!" The friend whimpered, subconsciously gripping his rifle tighter, sending a small fountain of saliva into the musty air.

"Oh, yes. Big Foot had enough of Elyon! In the middle of the night, it rammed its hand against the Vines so hard that it is said a whale could walk through it. The creature dodged bullets with its light-speed, sent its own spikes right through soldiers, and even stomped on the innocent. And just like that, Big Foot vanished. Some say it continues to prowl the lands and leave its hairy handprint—"