The Casey Chronicles

by Matthew J Gilbert (retail) (epub)

  Adapted by Matthew J. Gilbert

  Based on the teleplays

  “Target: April O’Neil” by Nicole Dubuc and

  “The Good, the Bad, and Casey Jones”

  by Johnny Hartmann

  © 2015 Viacom International Inc. All Rights Reserved. Nickelodeon, TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES and all related titles, logos and characters are trademarks of Viacom International Inc.

  Based on characters created by Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman

  Man, how do I start this thing? I’ve never had a journal before. I guess I could kick it off with DEAR DIARY.

  Nah. Too girly.

  What about Awesomeness Journal? I could open with “Welcome to Awesomeness Journal! I’m your host—”

  Never mind. That sounds like a TV show. And as crazy as the words on these pages are gonna be, I guarantee you this isn’t a TV show. This is as real as it gets.

  Oh, I know! How about True Life Memoirs of a Teenage Bounty Hunter? That sounds totally killer. I could write a bunch of case numbers at the top and mark them solved or unsolved. Maybe include a picture or two of me and my prisoner paper-clipped to the top? You’ll look at it all impressed and be like, “Wow, he caught THAT SUPER-DANGEROUS BAD GUY ALL ON HIS OWN? Clearly he did! Look at the photographic proof!”

  Crud. Wait a sec.

  I forgot; I don’t own a camera.

  You know what? I’ll just start this up by introducing myself. The name’s Casey.

  Casey Jones.

  And these are The Casey Chronicles.

  On the off chance you’ve never heard of me, let me enlighten you. I’m the best hockey player Roosevelt High has ever seen. Ever since I was old enough to play sports, all I wanted to do was put on a mask and a jersey and hit somebody. I’ve got some sick skate moves and a major gift for the stick. Nothing can take me out of a game.

  Except trigonometry.

  Oh, who’s that, you ask? Is that an exchange student named Vladimir Trigonometry?

  No. I’m talking about the actual subject trigonometry. It’s like a math-splosion of numbers and letters. It’s a bunch of formulas and junk that make my head hurt worse than a puck straight to the jaw.

  I’m flunking hard-core. And Mr. Frowny-Face School Principal said he’d throw me off the hockey team if I don’t pass this semester.

  So I needed a tutor. And that’s how I started hanging out with Red. You probably know her as April O’Neil.

  Shredder might have left the country on urgent business, but his presence still ruled over his minions back home.

  No one felt this more than his daughter, Karai. Although her father was thousands of miles away, she found herself staring at him, thanks to a video feed broadcast by the M.O.U.S.E.R.S., small robots with projectors in their skulls. The droids’ transmission cast Shredder’s face in a pixelated glow, making him appear more monstrous than usual. And magnified to the size of a movie theater screen, his disappointment was all the more obvious.

  Karai hung her head in shame.

  “So, Daughter,” Shredder’s voice boomed. “Not only do you disobey my orders in my absence, but your petty scheme failed miserably.”

  Karai knew she was in deep trouble. Over the past few weeks, she had tried to make her father proud by doing her best to capture the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. She knew it wasn’t her responsibility, but she wanted to be the one to exact vengeance upon them.

  She just didn’t have the right tools for the job.

  “It was those stupid Footbots!” she protested, staring daggers at the inadequate ninja robots that surrounded her. “They couldn’t keep up with the Turtles. But one good thing: the Kraang have been upgrading them! So—”

  “Hear me, Karai,” Shredder growled. “You will have no more dealings with the Kraang until I return.”

  “Understood, Father.”

  “Wait for my command and do not defy me again. The consequences would be … unfortunate.”

  Karai clenched her fists in anger. She couldn’t be seen as a failure—not by the Foot, and especially not by her father. It was time for drastic measures.

  And waiting for permission was not an option.

  Karai led two Footbots down a long tunnel, mulling over her plans. She was intent on making things right, and for that, she needed the extra-dimensional beings called the Kraang. They were scientists, soldiers, and notorious criminals known throughout the universe. And ever since Shredder had saved them from the wreckage of their space station, they were considered allies.

  They still give me the creeps, Karai thought.

  Even though Shredder had struck an unlikely alliance with these slimy invaders, she felt uneasy around them: they were cooperating for the moment, but they were also aliens with their own agenda.

  Karai and her bots finally arrived at the lab. Kraang-droids, the metallic exoskeletons that housed the brainlike Kraang, patrolled the area. Other Kraang floated in mobile pods, free to swing their tentacles wherever they pleased. A dome in the middle of the room was hardwired into various computers.

  With the flip of a switch, steps

  materialized out of thin air. Karai climbed them to an observation deck as the dome opened. Smoke billowed out, and a giant robot rose from the floor. Its form was familiar to her: a suit of armor adorned with jagged spikes. It wasn’t even po ered up, but it sent a shiver along Karai’s spine. It was the ultimate in cybernetic warfare: a Dark Ninja Robot.

  “Not bad,” Karai said. “How soon until it’s online?”

  One Kraang-droid stepped forward to answer her. “By Kraang’s calculations, nine Earth-hour units before—”

  “Nine hours?” Karai exclaimed. “I want to test it on someone now. And I’ve got the perfect target … April O’Neil.”

  The Kraang gasped. The mere mention of April’s name sent a psychic shock across their hive mind. Karai didn’t know that April was the key to funneling the Kraang’s telekinetic energy, that she was their secret weapon.

  Karai glared at the droid. “Is there a problem with that?”

  Sensing her frustration, the Kraang-droid hesitated, knowing it was unsafe to reveal the truth about April. Finally, it said, “Kraang sees no foreseeable problem, one called Karai.”

  “Good. Now let’s speed up the process,” Karai demanded. “You don’t want to keep the Shredder waiting.”

  In a city of over eight million people, April O’Neil felt totally alone.

  She didn’t really speak to any of her classmates at school. She avoided making small talk with her teachers. And since her father’s unfortunate mutation, she had done her best to ignore her former best friends, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

  April was mad at the world, so being on her own was exactly what she wanted. She walked down the street, keeping to the shadows, enjoying the silence. She didn’t realize that high above her head, someone was leaping from rooftop to rooftop, tracking her every move.

  April entered a dark alley and heard a loud thump behind her. She tried to shrug it off, but some insistent rustling told her she had company. She turned to look and caught a glimpse of green out of the corner of her eye.

  “I know you’re following me!” April shouted, whipping out her trusty tessen. “Come out so I can see you!”

  But her mystery stalker didn’t answer. April scanned the area, choosing her moment carefully. She took a breath and, just as Master Splinter had taught her, expertly launched the fan.

  The war fan flew and—wham!—clocked her target square on the head, forcing him into the light.

  It was Donatello.

  April’s face clouded over with anger. “Donnie?”

  Donnie froze. He hadn’t spoken to April since the incident: a
canister of mutagen had doused Kirby O’Neil in green goo, turning him into a grotesque creature of the night. That accident had ended Donnie and April’s friendship. Donnie went for his emergency plan: act as casual as possible.

  “Hey, it’s funny how we both happen to be passing through this shady alley at the same time,” he said, striking a not-very-relaxed pose. “So … how’ve you been?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual,” April replied. “Homework, chess club, dealing with a father who turned into a homicidal mutant bat!”

  “April, it wasn’t our fault,” Donnie insisted. “I’m sorry that—”

  “Not as sorry as I am! I want to be left alone, Donnie! No more talking mutants in my life. I never want to see you again!”

  Donnie winced. He could tell she meant it, and that hurt.

  He watched her turn and walk away. Afraid this might be the last time he ever saw her, he tried to reason with her.

  “April!” he cried. “Some things are just beyond our control.”

  But it was no use. April just kept walking.

  Heartbroken, Donnie wandered back to the Turtles’ lair, hoping to have some quiet time in the lab. Unfortunately, his brothers had other plans for the evening. Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo were surrounding the television, settling in for a marathon of Super Robo Mecha Force Five, an anime show Donnie absolutely hated.

  “Great,” Donnie mumbled to himself. “And I thought my night couldn’t get any worse.”

  Too tired to complain, Donnie sat quietly and watched: Princess, one of the best space pilots, was angry with the rest of her team for forgetting her birthday. It hurt her feelings so much that she quit the Force.

  As much as he hated to relate to this show, Donnie winced. He knew exactly how it felt to see a best friend and trusted teammate slip away. He feared that things with April would never be the same.

  Mikey looked up from the screen at Donnie. “Whoa, dude, this show, like, totally paradoxes your life! Kinda owie in the corazón.” He paused, then added, “By the way, corazón means ‘heart.’”

  “You mean parallels, not paradoxes,” Donnie corrected him. “And it has nothing to do with me. It’s just a cartoon.”

  Leo tried to defuse the situation. “Princess has quit the team like twenty-seven times!” he explained, remembering the last few episodes they’d watched. “She always comes back.”

  “Yeah, but let’s face reality,” Raph said, realizing who they were really talking about. “April’s gone for good. We’ll probably never see her again.”

  Donnie shuddered at the thought. He couldn’t bear the idea of losing April forever.

  “I’ll be in my lab,” he sighed.

  The moment he walked through the doors to the lab, he noticed a strange purple light blinking across the room.

  “The Kraang communicator!” Donnie inspected the machine their outer-space adversaries used to transmit messages. The Turtles had recovered one from the sewers shortly before the Kraang tried to invade Earth. After weeks of radio silence, the alien device was pulsating with life once again.

  “Guys!” Donnie yelled. “We have a problem!”

  The Turtles patrolled the streets in their vehicle, the Shellraiser, looking for signs of the Kraang. Donnie stared at a stack of papers in his lap, trying to stay focused. He needed to stop thinking about April long enough to wrap his head around these Kraang translations he’d decoded. After all, it wasn’t like April was thinking about him at that exact moment.

  Wait, is she? No. Stop it! Donnie scolded himself. Get your head out of your shell! He zeroed in on the numbers on the page before him.

  “From what I could translate from the orb,” he explained, “it seems the Kraang are building some kind of advanced heavy weaponry.”

  Leo looked up from the road. “Any guess what it could be?”

  In the back of the van, Mikey’s hand shot up like he was trying to catch the teacher’s eye in a classroom. “Oooh!” he exclaimed, convinced he had the answer. “Lasers disguised as … burritos! Yes! It all makes sense now.”

  Mikey’s “solution” was met with silence and eye-rolls.

  Raph knew how to handle this. He unbuckled his seat belt and approached Mikey. “It does make sense,” he said, “if you have an avocado for a brain!”

  “All right, guys,” Leo said from the front seat. “Let’s stay focused.”

  Everyone took a breath and returned to his battle station. It was time to get serious. The Kraang were out there, and that was bigger than any brotherly bickering or moping that was happening.

  “We find the weapon and destroy it,” Leo told his brothers. After a brief pause, he added, “And then we get Mexican pizza.” All this talk of burritos and avocados had made him really hungry.

  They all smiled. Finally, something they could agree on!

  Our first study session was a walk in the park.

  Literally.

  Apparently, Red loves to study at the park. She said she’s been doing it for a few years. The fresh air helps her think clearly or something.

  It didn’t help me any. Because all I could think was HOLY COW, THIS STUDY SESSION FEELS LIKE A DATE. But, no worries. Just like on the ice, I was totally ready.

  Deodorant? Check.

  Best punk rock T-shirt? Double check.

  Hanging out with the cutest girl at Roosevelt High on the swing set? Triple check.

  That’s CASEY JONES FOR THE HAT TRICK!

  I feel like we learned about each other. Like, I learned that Red is a Science Olympian. And I told her that I want to grow up to be a professional hockey star or international bounty hunter.

  Yeah, okay, I’ll admit she did try to make me answer a few trig questions, but I told her school wasn’t really my thing. So we just hung out. And then, as if our date couldn’t get any better …

  I SAVED HER FROM THE COOLEST-LOOKING MONSTER I’VE EVER SEEN!

  This thing had to be at least twenty feet tall. Eyes and internal organs all mixed up and floating around in a box like a big spaghetti mess. It was totally jackedup, though. Dieselarms and legs made of green goo. And hands that dripped acid! It could melt ANYTHING it touched. It spoke through a microphone box like it was singing karaoke or something.

  And it was going after April!

  Good thing I stepped in. It was me versus the Karaoke Creature from Behind the Dumpster. I grabbed a lead pipe and went all GOONGALA on it! (Well, maybe Red helped a little bit.)

  BUT I TOOK IT DOWN LIKE A BOSS.

  I used that lead pipe like a hockey stick and gave it my best slap shot. I even shot the garbage around me at it like hockey pucks—everything was a weapon!

  After we beat it up some more, the monster got really mad and chased us. I rescued Red on my bike, pedaling as fast as I could down the street. Cars were flying right by us! I turned up the speed just as a truck flattened the creature like a pancake. It was so awesome, like being in an action movie!

  BEST STUDY SESSION/DATE EVER!!!

  At the end of the night, I got Red home safe and far away from the monster.

  And guess what? She wants to go out again with me tomorrow night! WOOHOO!!

  Maybe we’ll even get some studying done.

  It was late at night, and Casey Jones had the rink all to himself. He skated speed drills.

  He practiced his wrist shot. He even made his own audience sound effects whenever he scored a goal.

  Life was good on the ice.

  Just as he was prepping another puck for launch, he noticed a figure moving in the stands.

  Someone else had entered the rink, and judging by her petite frame and messenger bag, she wasn’t another player.

  It was April.

  “Red?” Casey skated over to her. “Did I miss a study session again?”

  “No …” She hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. “I’m just here to … hang out.”

  “With the infamous Casey Jones?” he asked with a smirk as he skated backward.

&
nbsp; “Unless you only like me for my trigonometry skills,” April joked.

  They both laughed. Neither of them had said it yet, but they were becoming more than just study partners. They felt like … friends.

  The two exchanged an awkward stare. Casey could tell April had something on her mind.

  “So what’s your deal?” Casey finally asked. “I never see you hanging out with anybody. Anti-social much?”

  Things got awkward again.

  “Not really,” April murmured.

  She wanted to tell him everything—about the Turtles, her mutant-bat dad, the alien encounters—but she didn’t want to scare off the first human she’d befriended in years. Still, it would be nice to talk to someone.

  “I … I had four really close friends,” she confessed, careful to keep her answer vague but honest. “I don’t talk to them anymore.”

  Casey nodded. He understood what that was like. “It happens. Me and my best friend, Nick, were up against Troma Town in last year’s playoffs, right?” He fired a puck that clanged off the crossbar. “He came up behind me just as I was about to sink the winning goal and wham! My stick caught him in the face; it smacked his helmet straight off! Swollen face, split lip … My best friend since second grade … Never spoke to me again.”

  Casey looked down at his skates. It was a bad memory he didn’t like reliving. April tried to comfort him.

  “It’s not like you meant it,” she said.

  “Right,” Casey responded, staring off into the distance. “Some stuff is just … beyond our control.”

  April’s eyes widened; Donnie’s words from earlier echoed in her head. Seeing how sad Casey was helped her understand how the Turtles must have felt. Her face clouded over with guilt. Did I push the Turtles away for the wrong reasons?

  Casey stepped off the ice and got close. “Give me a sec to grab my gear. We can get something to eat. Pizza?”