Chapter 22

chapter twenty-two When I come to, my head aches, and I can't tell how much time has passed. Thick, heavy ropes bind my limbs. I crane my neck, and— What the... There's a giant pirate ship anchor next to me. Oh man—what dimension is this? There's a staticky buzzing sound—the lights overheard flicker, as some last, tiny bit of electricity shudders through them. In the dim light, I see a pirate. The real deal. Eye patch. Wooden leg. The whole thing. Have these Rifters dragged me onto the set of a Pirates of the Caribbean movie? Oh no, am I inside Davy Jones's locker? I spin my head wildly, before spotting a sign that explains it all—

putfputp on the high seas. Swashbuckling adventure for all ages Okay, so, time to play catch-up, brain. I've been taken prisoner by the Rifters. I'm inside, presumably—their hideout. And their hideout is a mini golf course, because, well, the end of the world is the weirdest. Think. Think. Need to escape. My eyes dart left and right, searching for— KRAK!

A door flies open. I shut my eyes, pretending to still be knocked out in case they spill the beans on anything worthwhile. "When do we go back for the baby Wretch?" I hear a voice ask. It's the Rifter, Flunk, who struggled with the concept of a tire swing. "You said it was a gift for Thrull." "S'right!" Boss says. "Ya see, Flunk, to prove our loyalty to Thrull, we needs to bring him a gift. A gift of value! Winged Wretches can bend minds; that gives 'em value. And a baby Wretch, that ain't been trained up? One Thrull can raise however he wants? That's even MORE value! And the big grand slam part is... it's got no wings! A Wingless Wretch! That goes and makes it the best gift of all, cuz it can't escape." "Yep! A mighty good gift, Boss! Best gift I ever heard of! I bet no better gift exists, except maybe a coupon for—"

THE WRETCH IS NO LONGER THE GIFT FLUNK. OH, I hear Boss and Flunk's scrap-metal boots on the floor. "The baby Wretch would be a happy-makin' thing to Thrull," the Boss Rifter says. "But Thrull wields big power now. He's got lots a' happy-makin' things. We must do more. Lucky fer us, I know just wants...." Thrull "A pizza party?" "REVENGE!" Boss barks. "Think of how Thrull will reward our loyalty when we hand

over one of his sworn enemies!" He kicks the anchor and my eyes fly open. The Boss looms over me. "How lucky I am that we found each other," he says, with an ugly chuckle. "The one with the Multi- Hand...." Whoa, what? "Back it up there a sec, pal," I say, squinting up at him. "The multi-what?" The Boss Rifter's long, thick fingers tap the Thing-A-Ma-Blasty Gadget Blaster. "Ohhhh, you mean the Thing-A-Ma-Blasty Gadget Blaster!" I say. "I used to call it the Gift. And, wait, you guys call it the Multi- Hand? Okay, we need to all get on the same page here, name-wise. I mean, just for ease of communication. Y'know what—how about we just call it Blasty? Simple, to the point." The Boss Rifter snickers. "Soon, it'll belong to Thrull. Along with you. And then he can call it any name he likes. See, it's all goin' ta belong to him. Until .e...c. arrivens..."

He makes a horrible laughing sound— choking as he cackles. Bits of spittle fly. I'm turning my head to avoid the shower of saliva when I see— Blood. A few tiny drops of magenta and teal on the Boss's boot. It all comes rushing back. The moment before it all went black. Neon. Crying out. Overwhelmed by that savage, sinister swarm of Wretches. And that final, horrible blow. I feel a lump in my throat. But I refuse to let this villain see me cry. I swallow it down, stiffen, and stare up at the Boss. "I'm going to ask you a question," I say. "And please. Just please—give me a real answer."