“No!” Leo screamed.
Then the sky turned blood-red.
Shredder’s spine-tingling laugh echoed through the shadows. Leo turned to face him. He could only see Shredder’s eyes, brightly lit, like those of some possessed monster. Leo covered his face, afraid to look at the figure towering over him.
Shredder smacked him to the ground. Hard.
Anxious and injured, Leo summoned the strength to look up.
Shredder dragged his claws against the wall, leaving a trail of sparks as he stomped toward Leo. “There is no place you can run, no place you can hide,” Shredder hissed. “You think you’re ready to face me?” He snarled, raising his blades.
Leo covered his body as best he could. But it was no use. Shredder slashed him.
Splinter’s eyes shot open. He sat up in bed, his heart still pounding from the nightmare. It took him a moment to realize it was all just a dream. . . .
Leo was fine. He hadn’t been slashed.
The alleyway faceoff had never happened.
All of his sons were in the next room, hidden away from danger.
But were they safe?
No. As long as the Shredder was out there, they would never be safe.
Splinter collected himself and controlled his fears, then opened the door. He made a surprising discovery.
The Turtles were gearing up to hit the surface.
“Where are you going?” Splinter demanded.
“Heading out for our evening patrol,” Leo answered.
“There will be no patrol!” Splinter roared.
The Turtles were caught off guard. They weren’t used to hearing Master Splinter like this. Something was very wrong.
“Last time you fought the Shredder you barely escaped with your lives!” Splinter reminded them.
“But, Sensei, next time we’ll be ready!” Raph assured him.
Splinter wasn’t satisfied. He knew his sons were far from ready to face a threat so great. To illustrate his point, he caught Raph in a surprise ninja-hold and held him there with ease.
“You will stay down here until you are ready,” Splinter decreed. “No patrol. No games. No rest! There is only training. Starting now.”
For the next few weeks, the Turtles trained in the dojo day and night. At first, they missed little things like playing video games and skateboarding. But after countless exhausting practice sessions, all they wanted was some sleep.
“More, Sensei?” Mikey asked.
“Yes. More.”
It seemed like there was no end in sight. Donnie and Mikey fought to keep their eyes open and summoned whatever strength they had left for the next run of tenchi throws—an ancient ninjutsu defense technique. They limply ran toward Leo and Raph, letting them toss them to the ground, barely putting up a fight.
“There is no intention in your strikes,” barked Splinter. “Do it again! We will practice all night if we have to!”
“We have been practicing all night,” Donnie muttered, noticing Mikey was fast asleep on the floor beside him, snoring away. It would have been cute had it not summoned the wrath of Sensei!
“Wake him up,” Splinter scolded.
The promise of causing Mikey bodily harm was enough to give Raph a much-needed energy boost. “Gladly,” he obeyed.
Raph lifted Mikey in the air and body-slammed him down like a pro wrestler.
“Aah!” Mikey screamed as he snapped awake. “Shredder’s here!”
“Relax,” Leo told him. “You were just having a nightmare.”
“Aren’t we all?” Raph pointed out.
“Sensei, can we rest for a sec?” Donnie pleaded.
Splinter’s eyes narrowed. He realized he was working his sons to the bone. But, he thought, if that was what it took to keep them alive, then there was no other way.
“Rest? The Shredder will not rest until you are all dead!” Splinter declared.
“Sensei, we’ve been training nonstop for weeks with hardly any sleep,” Leo protested. “They need a break.”
Not one to be shown up in front of Sensei, Raph cut in. “Like you don’t?” he challenged.
“That’s right, Raph; I don’t,” Leo replied.
“Then I’ll give you a break,” Raph said, cracking his knuckles. He shoved Leo. Suddenly, Splinter knocked down all his sons in a flurry of expert ninjutsu moves. The Turtles were all flat on their shells before they knew what hit them.
“If I were the Shredder, none of you would be breathing right now. Understand?” Splinter said angrily.
The Turtles caught their breath and sat up one by one. It was clear their sensei was right. If they were going to stand a chance against an expert ninja master, they were going to need more training.
Splinter watched Mikey fall into a deep sleep, snoring on Leo’s shoulder.
“Perhaps a brief rest is in order,” Splinter admitted. “We will resume later.”
The moment Splinter left the dojo, the Turtles gave in to the need to sleep and shut their eyes. They’d never felt so exhausted in their entire lives.
“We’re all gonna die!” a voice cried from the television set.
It was an episode of Space Heroes, Leo’s favorite show. He had it playing while he practiced some new katana techniques. Leo watched as Captain Ryan, the leader of an intergalactic crew of deep-space explorers, got hit with an anxiety ray that sent him into a severe panic attack.
Leo knew exactly how Captain Ryan felt.
Leo didn’t want to admit it to his brothers, but the truth was he was as frightened as the rest of them. Just thinking about Shredder gave him a chill. He knew it was best to keep his mind occupied with other things. Fun things.
Like Space Heroes.
But just as Leo began to lose himself in Captain Ryan’s outer-space adventures, a ninja star flew across the room and hit the Power button, shutting the TV off.
He turned to see Raph behind him, grinning.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Leo demanded.
“Oh, sorry. It was Spike’s idea,” Raph said as he fed his pet turtle, Spike, another leaf. “He said Space Heroes is too stupid for him.”
“That’s saying something, considering he hangs out with you all day,” Leo blurted out.
That got Raph seething. His foul mood was nothing out of the ordinary, but the recent lack of sleep due to weeks of intense training had clearly turned him into an even bigger grump.
“Leo, you’ve angered Spike,” Raph said calmly, but then his own anger erupted. “Now I’m gonna mop the floor with your face!”
“All right, Raph, cool off,” Leo said.
Just then, Mikey popped up out of nowhere. “I can help with that!”
He pulled a water balloon from behind his shell and nailed Raph with it!
Mikey juggled two more water balloons, boasting, “Dr. Prankenstein strikes again!” He did a little happy dance until a drenched and unhappy Raph stepped up to him.
Mikey should’ve run far away. Instead, he said, “Dude, you should see your face right now! You look so mad!”
“Okay, Spike, you’ll like this show,” Raph said, making fists. “It’s called Does Mikey Bend That Way?”
While Leo watched Raph chase Mikey around the room, it finally dawned on him: they were all dealing with this high-pressure situation in their own ways.
He retreated into his favorite TV show . . . while Mikey let off steam by having fun and pulling pranks . . . which let Raph relax the way he knew best: by beating Mikey senseless.
Hey, if that’s what helps them cool off . . . , he thought. Which left him to wonder how Donnie was dealing with all this.
Leo, Raph, and Mikey found Donnie hidden behind a giant welding mask, tucked away in the corner of his lab. Holding a white-hot welding torch, he knelt in front of a strange-looking vehicle: a rust-covered jalopy with exposed seats pilfered from various junkyards, ill-fitting tires, and four separate steering wheels. His brothers thought it looked like a deformed wreck of a car. But to Donnie, i
t was a thing of beauty.
“You’re still working on that go-kart?” Raph teased.
Donnie flipped his helmet up. “It’s not a go-kart,” he corrected him. “It’s an all-terrain patrol buggy with detachable sidecars.”
Mikey was confused. “Dude, hasn’t Splinter been riding us hard enough? You’ve got to find a way to relax.”
“We all deal with stress in different ways, Mikey,” Leo pointed out.
“Yeah, this is how I deal,” Donnie agreed.
“Well, this is how I deal,” Mikey proclaimed, hurling another water balloon across the room. He was aiming for Leo . . .
. . . but hit Donnie instead!
Dripping wet, Donnie took off his welding helmet and starting chasing Mikey around the lab.
Pounding Mikey seems to be the most popular stress-reliever in the sewer, Leo mused.
As Mikey ran for his life, he calculated out loud. “Dr. Prankenstein’s score: two bros hit, one more to go. You’re next, Leo! And don’t forget, Dr. Prankenstein makes house calls!”
While the Turtles were hiding out, April was sneaking around with a large pepperoni pie in hand. Her plan was simple: impersonate a pizza delivery girl.
She stepped up to an old building. From the outside, it looked like a dilapidated fortune-cookie factory, but everyone on this side of town knew better—this was the secret hideout of the meanest gang in town, the Purple Dragons. April got into character and knocked on the door.
Sid, the most muscle-bound member of the gang, answered the door. Just behind him, at a table, were the other Purple Dragons—Fong and Tsoi—glaring at her for interrupting their card game.
Lowering her voice, April asked, “Did somebody here order a totally delicious pizza?”
“No,” Sid grunted. “Beat it.”
“You sure? The guy who paid on the phone gave me this address,” April lied, continuing to disguise her voice and force the pizza on Sid. She took a moment, and then for effect, added, “Maybe it’s a block over? I’m so confused.”
Sid suddenly changed his tune. “Oh, that pizza. Yeah, that’s ours.”
He gladly accepted the pizza and brought it inside—completely unaware that a tiny spy transmitter was hidden on the bottom of the box.
April left, activating her phone and opening up the Teen Spy app. She popped her headphones in and was able to listen in on the Purple Dragons’ conversation within seconds. She pressed the Record button.
“Check it out, free pizza!” she heard Sid say.
Then she heard Fong yell at him, “Sit down and deal, Sid.”
April smiled. She had successfully planted a bug inside the Purple Dragons’ hideout with nothing but a cheap disguise and a pepperoni pizza. Mission accomplished!
Back at the Turtles’ dojo, Leo was leading his brothers through a ninjutsu training exercise.
“Hoko no Kamae!” he commanded, which was Japanese for “bear stance.” Leo held his arms up like a bear, feet shoulder-width apart. He waited for his brothers to follow along. They all did. Except Raph.
“Raph!” Leo shouted. “Hoko no Kamae!”
“Hoko no way!” Raph replied with his arms folded in protest. He was fed up. “It’s bad enough Splinter’s driving us into the ground. Now you, too?”
Leo broke stance to have a heart-to-heart with his bros. He couldn’t blame Raph for feeling the way he did. They were under a lot of pressure. But now was not the time to forget the threat that awaited them on the surface.
“We have to keep training,” Leo told them. “Because right now, we don’t stand a chance against Shredder.”
“Yeah,” Mikey said, a look of horror on his face. “And he’s up there. Somewhere. Waiting for us!” The thought of that alone was enough to give Mikey the heebie-jeebies. He shuddered and added, “I just freaked myself out.”
Then Donnie threw his two cents in. “I hate to say it, but the fact that we’ve been lying low might be the only reason we’re still alive.”
“Exactly,” Leo agreed. “So until we’re ready, we stay down here.”
Suddenly, April was by his side.
“Unfortunately,” she said, showing her phone to the guys, “that’s not an option.”
With the Turtles and Master Splinter huddled together, April played the spy recording she’d made of the Purple Dragons.
“We’re meeting Shredder tonight. He’s got a plan to destroy the Turtles.” It’s was Fong’s voice.
Then they heard Sid ask, “How? He doesn’t even know where they are.”
“He says they’re in the sewers somewhere and that’s all he needs to know to wipe them out—”
April stopped the recording.
For a moment, no one spoke. The Turtles looked to their sensei for guidance, comfort, a kind word—anything to break the thick silence in the lair. As a wise ninja master, Splinter had trained himself to never show emotion. But everyone could see that the news had shaken him to his core.
“Our home is no longer safe,” he said gravely. “Shredder must be stopped.”
“How can we stop a plan we don’t know?” Leo asked his sensei.
Like a star ninja pupil, Leo never took his eyes off Master Splinter, even though he sensed Mikey was readying a water balloon beside him. It might not have been the best time to continue the Dr. Prankenstein prank war, but Leo wasn’t about to let Mikey get him. He quickly threw a ninja star and popped the balloon while it was still in Mikey’s hand, drenching him good!
Raph ignored Mikey’s shenanigans and tried to reason with Master Splinter. “We have to go topside and find out what they’re planning.”
“Raph’s right,” Leo said. “There’s no other way.”
Splinter nodded. He knew he couldn’t keep his sons locked in the sewers anymore. If they were going to survive this war, they were going to have to find danger before it found them!
That night, the Turtles hit the surface, scouring the streets for anything they could learn about Shredder’s evil plan. Their search led them to an alley outside an abandoned church. But this was no place of prayer—this was a front. Instead of priests or nuns walking up the steps, the Turtles watched Purple Dragon after Purple Dragon enter. They were being greeted by groups of black-masked ninjas. It was clear to Leo: they were looking at the Foot Clan’s main hideout!
“This is the place,” Leo said, giving his brothers the signal to come closer and form a huddle.
Leo was shoved forward as his brothers rushed up behind him at once. They were way too close for comfort. Donnie and Raph were practically shell to shell!
“Donnie, you’re crowding me,” Raph grunted.
“Sorry,” Donnie replied, backing off. But the moment he moved, he accidentally bumped into a trash can. Mikey screamed.
The other Turtles gave him the death stare for making so much noise. Was he trying to get them discovered?
“Sorry,” Mikey said sheepishly. “All that Splinter-talk about how we’re not ready has me thinking: maybe we’re in over our heads.”
“You’re always in over your head,” Raph said coldly.
“I’m saying now we all are,” Mikey responded. “And that scares me.”
Leo tried to comfort him. “It’s okay to be scared, Mikey. Raph is scared, too.”
“I’m not scared,” Raph countered.
And then, just as Leo was about to prove how scared Raph actually was, a monstrous voice growled, “You should be.”
Leo was the first to see the deformed figure at the end of the alley: it was a blur of fur, a hideous dog-man with bulging muscles and one gigantic fist. The mutant walked like a man and sounded very familiar. It was their old enemy, Chris Bradford!
“Look what I found . . . four soon-to-be ex-Turtles,” the Bradford mutant snarled, seemingly growing bigger with every step it took, until he towered over them.
Mikey shrank behind his brothers. “I’m sure glad it’s okay to be scared,” he said, his voice quavering with fear.
“You and
me both,” Donnie agreed, trying to back away from the Bradford Mutant.
They needed a plan—an escape plan. Leo tried to keep his head, but he found it difficult to concentrate with an enormous mutant staring him down. Being in a dead-end alley made them sitting ducks. The only way to get out was to face this monstrosity head-on.
Leo drew his katanas. “This is no time to panic,” he told his brothers.
The Bradford Mutant stepped closer. He seemed to be ten feet tall.
“He keeps getting taller!” Mikey exclaimed.
“Then I’ll cut him down to size,” Leo said, leaping up to unleash his airborne katana attack. He swung the blades downward with all his strength and—SLAM!—the Bradford Mutant effortlessly blocked the blow with his impenetrable, two-ton fist.
This wasn’t going to be easy. Leo had no choice but to backflip out of the fray, retreating to his brothers. “Uh, let’s stick together on this one,” he said, now just as frightened as they were.
THWACK-THWACK!
Donnie delivered a series of fierce bo staff strikes, trying to distract the dog-man on one side while Leo went to work on the other! But power punches and speed kicks appeared to do nothing to the monster. He overpowered Donnie and nearly crushed him with his massive fist. Then he swatted Leo around like a puny rag doll.
Seeing his brothers losing their ground, Mikey opted for the high road—and wrapped his nunchucks around a power line. Hanging on for dear life, he zip-lined down. He slid with both feet out, ready to deliver a forty-mile-per-hour dropkick, but the Bradford Mutant stopped him cold, using his gargantuan fist like a battering ram. He grabbed Mikey and tossed him to the back of the alley as easily as skipping a stone.
Picking his head up off the ground in time to see Mikey sail through the sky, Donnie yelled, “This is hopeless!”
The Crime Fighter Collection Page 4