“That
guy has to be dead,” Jake said.
Machine
Ranger groaned.
“Oh
man! He’s not dead!”
Jake
ran toward him.
The
orange glow had begun to diminish.
Machine Ranger was wiggling his
fingers and trying to pick his head up off the pavement.
“No!”
the Ranger said. “Stop right there, kid!”
Jake
stopped running, almost to him. “What? Why? I just …”
“I
know. The problem is, I don’t know what to expect from this orange
stuff I’m stuck in. The Rustler’s been known to booby trap his
weapons; the dirty rat hates it when someone tries to help out a guy
he’s taken down.”
“Oh
… really? That’s pretty …”
“Cold?
Yeah … stone cold. But that’s The Rustler … he’s
vicious as a rattlesnake. And that horse of his is no better.”
“His
horse?”
“Yeah—you
saw him, kid. The two-wheeled kind. Those two are two peas in a pod
… a low-life, dirtbag pod.”
“Um
… are you injured, mister? You sound okay, but I saw them run you
over …”
Machine
Ranger coughed. “I don’t know kid … it seems like my
battle-chassis is pretty much intact …”
“Battle-chassis?
What’s a―”
“Battle-chassis.
It’s what I call my suit, kid. You know, like a battle-chassis?”
“Uh
… okay. It’s a battle-chassis.”
“Now
you’re catching on, kid. Hey—maybe you can do me a favor.”
“A
favor? Sure. What do you need?”
Machine
Ranger smiled. “Kid, it’s always a bad idea to agree to a favor
before you find out what it’s going to be.”
###
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