by 3 Ninja Tales (The Rise of Tiger Claw; The Casey Chronicles; Mutants in Space!) (retail) (epub)
“You’re the one who did this,” Raph said, clobbering a few Footbots mid-sentence.
WHAM!
“They followed you, too, dude!” Casey insisted, perfectly happy to fight off a few bots while he argued his side.
THWACK!
“Don’t dude me, dude!”
And while the two frenemies continued to bicker and fight off bots simultaneously, Master Splinter picked up the slack. With lightning-fast speed and expert-level ninjutsu moves, the ninja master moved quicker than the human eye could see. He single-handedly chopped, kicked, and tail-whipped his way through ten Footbots until they were nothing but a pile of metal limbs.
“Stay alert! More are coming!” Master Splinter warned, spotting a freshly spawned group of Footbots headed their way.
Donnie noticed one Footbot standing still, its head mysteriously swiveling left to right. Its eyes glowed red. Was it powering up? Taking surveillance photos?
It took Donnie a moment, but he soon realized what was happening. That Footbot was trying to transmit a homing signal!
“He’ll give away our location!” Donnie cried.
“Don’t let that robot escape!” Master Splinter commanded.
A voice piped up behind him. “Casey Jones is on it!”
Determined to make things right, Casey sprinted after the Footbot—just as someone sideswiped him, knocking him out of the way.
Raph!
“Tell Casey Jones I don’t need his help!” he said.
Raph left Casey in the dust. If anyone was going to save the lair, it was going to be him!
Raph chased the Footbot through the city’s underground tunnels. But he wasn’t the only one.
Casey Jones was right there with him, keeping pace a few steps ahead. Even under all those heavy hockey pads, he was fast! Raph removed a grappling hook from his shell and swung it around like a lasso, taking aim.
The hook connected—direct hit—and wrapped around Casey, pulling him to the ground.
“What are you doing?!” Casey scowled.
“Me?” Raph said, taking the lead. “You got in my way!”
Casey wriggled out of the ropes, scrambling back to his feet. He saw Raph’s shell up ahead in the distance and broke into a full-on sprint. Underfoot, he noticed the ground gradually change from rocky puddles to gravel and train tracks.
They weren’t in the sewers anymore. They were in the subway.
Raph paused. The Footbot disappeared into the darkness of the tunnels.
Casey finally caught up. “Where’d he go?”
A group of shadowy figures suddenly landed all around them.
More Footbots! It was an ambush!
Now Raph had no choice but to fight alongside Casey Jones, and he was not happy about it. They joined forces, brawling together—Raph with his sais, Casey with his sticks—making quick work of the robot attack squad.
“If that Transmitter Footbot gets back to Karai and gives away our hideout, you answer to Splinter!” Raph threatened between lunges.
“The rat?” Casey shuddered. He did not want to face those whiskers. He needed to think of something fast.
As if on cue, a second wave of Footbots emerged from the shadows. Since all the robots looked the same, tracking the Transmitter Footbot wasn’t going to be easy in this crowd of identical black masks.
Then he spotted two glowing red eyes in the back of the shadowy crowd. The Transmitter Footbot!
That’s it, Casey thought. Color. He knew what he needed to do. He pulled a homemade graffiti grenade from his belt and bit off the cap. He took careful aim, gave it a shake, and flung the spray- paint can into the cloaked masses.
Casey saw an explosion of gold liquid. He’d hit it! The Transmitter Footbot was marked with Casey’s paint!
But there was no time to celebrate. The Transmitter Footbot was getting away!
“Next time, tag it with a real grenade!” Raph said with a smirk.
The two unlikely allies took off after their moving target. Side by side.
Meanwhile, back at the lair, the other Turtles had Footbot problems of their own. The pesky robots had infiltrated Donnie’s lab and were threatening to trash everything, from Donnie’s new Turtle-tech prototypes to the contraband Kraang devices they’d spent months recovering.
Mikey fended off a few Footbots and leaped on top of a rolling toolbox. He pushed off it, using it like a battering ram on wheels. He took out a few bots with finesse—until he accidentally crashed into a table of explosive chemicals.
KABOOM!
The purple flash of the explosion illuminated the room.
“Stop messin’ around!” Donnie scolded. “You’ll blow us all to Philadelphia!”
Mikey blushed. “Sorry, D!”
Casey Jones skated along the train tracks, desperately trying to catch the Transmitter Footbot before it could reach the surface. He looked over his shoulder and saw Raph struggling to keep up. “Faster, man! Move your shell!”
They both heard a rumbling sound. A subway train was barreling toward them, flying like a silver bullet out of the darkness.
Casey started to freak. If they didn’t move, they’d be pancaked for sure!
With the train right at his back, Casey slowed down and dove, tackling Raph. They rolled away from the tracks and down the gravel banks. The wind of the passing train roared around them.
Raph opened his eyes … and saw Casey Jones standing over him. They were safe.
“You okay?” Casey asked.
Raph breathed a sigh of relief. The kid had saved his life. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. “Yeah, thanks.”
Raph exhaled and then remembered: the Transmitter Footbot!
The shifty bot had scaled the moving subway cars and climbed on top of them, hitching a high-speed ride through the tunnels.
Raph put his issues with Casey aside and shook off whatever pent-up anger he had left. He gave Casey a friendly look, as if to say, Shall we?
Understanding that Raph would hop a moving train just to smash a robo-ninja—and was inviting him along for the ride—Casey knew he’d found a new, true friend.
It was time to catch a train.
On top of the speeding train, hot, stinky wind whipped against Casey’s and Raph’s faces. They spotted the Transmitter Footbot dragging itself from car to car with its four mechanical arms outstretched. The bot stopped and looked back at them.
Battling to stay balanced on the train, Casey and Raph lumbered forward and drew their weapons. They’d come this far. They were ready to shut this thing down for good.
But they weren’t ready for what happened next: the Transmitter Footbot released its grip from the train-top and let the wind get underneath it. The blast carried the bot straight at Raph and Casey.
They ducked, dodging its airborne chain saws.
The Transmitter Footbot grabbed hold of the top of the train once more, catching itself before it could fly off the back end. It extended its blades and clawed toward them for another attack.
Raph darted out of the way, barely holding on. Casey lurched forward, swinging his hockey stick, but the force of the train caused him to lose his footing.
Raph saw him disappear off the side and threw his grappling hook expertly. The rope caught Casey just in time! He dangled inches above the rushing tracks.
Raph hauled Casey up, grabbing his partner’s hand to help him back onto the train’s roof.
“Thanks, Raph,” Casey said.
“Now we’re even,” Raph replied.
Raph and Casey fought the wind, stomping toward their target with determination. The bot had made its way to the front of the train. A station overpass, an enclosed walkway with big windows, loomed ahead. This was the bot’s chance to escape to the surface.
As the nose of the train crossed under the walkway, the Transmitter Footbot vaulted itself upward, crashing through a window.
Casey wasn’t going to lose him. He launched himself, and the momentum of the train carried h
im into the overpass. Casey landed on his feet and immediately started swinging. The bot dodged this way and that to avoid Casey’s swinging baseball bat.
Raph stormed in, bumping into Casey because the hall was so narrow. Ticked that he didn’t have enough room to move around and hit the bot, he yelled at Casey: “Outta my way!”
The Footbot broke free, trying to make a run for it, when Casey lashed out with his last hockey stick. He was too wide again!
Raph rolled forward and kicked the Footbot hard in its metal midsection, its spindly body clanging down the stairs and into an abandoned subway station.
Not one to be outdone, Casey snuck around Raph, grinding down the stairwell rail on his skates. “I can take this robot down myself!”
Raph smirked. Seemed like all the friendly courtesies were out the window when it came to who would be first to wreck the robot. May the best man—or Turtle—win!
Casey chased the bot through the turnstiles, and Raph somersaulted in a few feet away. He threw his sai at it and—
THA-CLUNK!
The blade pierced the Footbot’s shoulder, pinning it to a pillar. It quickly pulled itself free, its circuits still sparking from the hit, and bolted toward the main exit stairwell.
“It’s going for the street!” Casey shouted.
“We can’t let it get away!” Raph insisted.
Raph and Casey pursued it up the stairs, but it was clear they weren’t going to reach it in time. Not in a foot race to see who could get there first. The robot had gotten too much of a lead.
If they were going to destroy this bot, they’d have to work together.
Raph grabbed Casey and threw him through the air as hard as he could. Before Casey knew what was happening, he was a human missile flying toward the Footbot. He quickly released his homemade electroshock weapon from underneath his pads.
BZZZZZT!
Casey Jones landed on the bot and fried its malfunctioning frame. After a series of hissing pops, the exoskeleton stumbled down the stairs to the platform. Raph added a finishing touch: a sai right through its metallic skull.
The Footbot sputtered and finally powered down, steam and smoke billowing from its junked frame. It was offline for good, and the Turtles’ location was safe.
An exhausted Casey Jones returned to
Raph’s side. “That … was … too close,” he
wheezed.
“You’re a pretty good fighter,” Raph admitted.“Sure, you’re raw, unfocused, dangerous, and crazy. But you’re not bad.”
“Thanks,” Casey replied, pulling up his mask. Coming from the angriest, meanest Turtle in the world, he knew that was a huge compliment.
They slapped hands.
With all the dismembered robot parts on the floor, the Turtles’ lair looked like a scrap yard.
Leo hacked two Footbots to pieces. “Is that all of them?”
Master Splinter lunged at the last remaining Footbot as it crept up behind Leo. He took it out with one swift swing of his sword. “Yes,” he said, calmly pulling his blade out of the bot’s sparking backside. “That is all.”
“What happened to Raph and Casey?” April wondered out loud.
As if on cue, April got her answer: they walked into the lair together like old pals as they relived their epic victory.
“Dude! The way we chased that thing down,” Raph reminisced.
“And what about when I shocked it with my stunner!” Casey grinned. “How cool was that?”
“Don’t forget the subway chase! That was the most awesome part!”
Everyone stopped cleaning up robot parts, their mouths hanging open as they gawked at the unlikely pair. What was going on here? Was this a happy Raph? Or—an even crazier thought— a friendly Raph?
“What’s up? No more robots left for Raph and me?” Casey asked the room, leaning on his new partner-in-crime-fighting.
Mikey was perplexed. “Whoa … what’s up with you two? You’re like best friends forever now or something?”
“I see you have found a new ally, Raphael,” Master Splinter observed.
“Yeah,” Raph admitted. “Casey’s cool.”
Master Splinter came forward to express his gratitude to Casey. “Thank you for helping my family.”
“No problem, rat-dude,” Casey answered, still a little leery of the giant rat standing before him. “But now,” he said, turning to Raph, “it’s time to clean the scum off the streets.”
“Let’s do this!” Raph growled.
“Yeaaaahhhh!” the dangerous duo yelled simultaneously, banging their heads together.
“Great. You know what this means?” Donnie said with a tremble in his voice. “Now we have two Raphaels!”
Raph and Casey hit the surface as a team, ready to deal a double dose of pain to evildoers everywhere!
Adapted by David Lewman
Based on the teleplays “Annihilation: Earth! Part 1,” “Annihilation: Earth! Part 2,” and “Beyond the Known Universe” by Brandon Auman
Late one night, the backstreets of New York were quiet and empty. A dim streetlight flickered. Nearby, an engine broke the silence. VROOM …
A strange vehicle came around a dark corner. It looked like an old subway car that had been converted into a makeshift military truck. Someone had spray-painted the name Shellraiser on it.
Inside the Shellraiser were two humans … and four Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Leonardo was at the wheel. Raphael was ready to fire the Shellraiser’s trash cannon and manhole-cover launcher, if necessary. Michelangelo was navigating … sort of. Mostly, he was thinking about getting pizza at the end of the night. As chief engineer, Donatello was adjusting controls, ready to make any necessary repairs.
The two humans were the Turtles’ best friends, April O’Neil and Casey Jones. The Shellraiser only had four seats, so April and Casey stood, holding subway-type straps.
Donnie did not look happy. “Guys,” he said as he stared into a view screen, “someone’s been following us for the last five blocks or so.”
April frowned. “That’s weird. I don’t sense anyone at all.” April’s psychic powers usually alerted her when other living beings were nearby.
“See for yourself,” Donnie said, gesturing toward the screen.
The others leaned forward and saw a black sedan following them as they turned another corner.
Whoever was driving the car didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he was tailing the Shellraiser. It was as if he knew the Turtles were on to him. He came up behind the Shellraiser, practically touching its back bumper. The sedan pulled past the Shellraiser, and the Turtles got a good look at the driver.
“It’s the Kraang!” Casey cried.
Casey was right. The driver of the black sedan was an alien Kraang in a fake human body. The Turtles had seen plenty of these disguised Kraang, and they all looked the same: black suit, black hair, and dark sunglasses.
But as it drove past the Shellraiser, this Kraang did something they’d never seen one do before. Smiling, it put its hand to its sunglasses, lifted them, and rapidly closed and opened one eye.
“Did that Kraang just wink at us?!” Raph asked, surprised.
The black sedan sped off into the night.
“After him, Leo!” Donnie shouted.
Leo hit the gas. The Shellraiser was gaining on the sedan when it suddenly disappeared.
“In there!” Mikey directed, pointing. “He turned into that alley!”
Leo took a sharp right turn into the alley. It was a dead end.
The Turtles opened the doors of the Shellraiser and jumped out, followed by April and Casey. They looked around, but the black sedan and its mysterious winking driver were nowhere to be seen.
April spotted something on the brick wall in front of them. “Check it out,” she said. “There’s something written on this wall!”
“In New York alleys, there’s always something written on the wall,” Raph said.
“Yeah, but I think this is
a message for you guys,” April said. She read the writing out loud: “TURTLES. 3117 BAYFRONT STREET. MIDNIGHT.”
Mikey pointed to a drawing below the writing. “What’s that supposed to be? His logo?”
Leo examined it more closely. “It’s a chess piece. A bishop.”
The Turtles stared at the drawing. A bishop? What did that mean?
Just before midnight, the Turtles arrived at the address written on the alley wall: 3117 Bayfront Street. It turned out to be a meatpacking plant.
The Turtles, April, and Casey hopped out of the Shellraiser, keeping quiet. All their senses were sharp.
They looked around, but all they saw were a few people in the distance and a homeless man sleeping on the street.
“For the record,” Raph growled, “I still think this is a terrible idea, Leo. Gotta be a trap.”
Looking up at the meatpacking plant, Mikey realized something. “Dudes, this is the same meat warehouse where we fought Tiger Claw! Come on, I know a back entrance!”
He hurried around the corner of the building. The others followed him.
This is good, Leo thought. The Kraang won’t expect us to come in this way, so maybe we’ll get a chance to check him out before he knows we’re here.
Cold sides of beef hung from metal hooks. The Turtles, April, and Casey made their way from one to the next, hiding behind the meat as they snuck deeper into the building, until …
… there he was! The winking Kraang from the black sedan! And he hadn’t noticed them. They crept closer. Leo held his finger to his mouth, signaling the others to keep silent.
But Casey Jones wasn’t very good at following orders.
To Casey, when you saw a Kraang, you did one thing and one thing only: attack!
“GOONGALA!” Casey howled as he leaped forward, swinging his hockey stick at the Kraang. “Goongala” was his new battle cry, and he was hoping it would catch on. Mikey had “booyakasha.” Shouldn’t Casey have a trademark, too?
WHIFF! The stick missed its target as the Kraang leaned back, smoothly dodging Casey’s blow.