bounced harmlessly off the robot, and clattered noisily to the ground.
The mechanical demon clanked closer, its arm still raised, fist still clenched. But, Drake realised, the knuckle-spikes were all used up. He may not have a weapon, but nor did the Deathblade Guardian!
There was a sound in Drake’s head, like a snigger. The robot lowered its left arm...
...and then raised its right one. Four more pyramid-shaped projectiles took aim at Drake’s head. The robot was too close now, and Drake was too near the cliff edge. There was no way he could dodge another attack.
He saw the guardian clench its fist tighter. Drake’s hands went to the lid of the box by his feet. The clasps unclipped as four puffs of smoke and four fiery flashes sent four little missiles hurtling towards him.
The lid wouldn’t stop a direct hit, he knew, but if he could angle it correctly, like the wall back in the cave, he might stand a chance. He thrust the rectangle of plastic out in front of his face, tilted upwards.
A sound like machine-gun fire rattled across the lid’s surface. The force of four impacts almost sent him toppling backwards over the edge of the cliff, but he held his ground and laughed, half with relief, half with amazement, when the spikes deflected upwards to be lost in the vastness of the Junk Room.
He didn’t laugh for long. A pincer grip tore the lid from his hands. Drake found himself looking up into the red-eyed glare of the guardian.
“Can’t we talk about this?” he pleaded.
A metal arm reared back, a metal fist was driven down towards him. Drake rolled clumsily and the fist punched a hole through another plastic lid. The hand raised again, bringing the entire storage box with it.
The guardian shook its arm, flicking its hand up and down as it attempted to dislodge the box. Seizing the opportunity, Drake leaped to his feet and drove a shoulder against the robot’s back, trying to knock it off balance.
Something buzzed across his skin and through his bones as he made contact with the Deathblade Guardian. A shock of energy pushed him away, and sent him spiralling down on to the floor. He skidded on the smooth plastic and slid, screaming, towards the sheer drop.
His hands grabbed at the edge of a box lid as he slipped across it. His fingers, curved into claws, caught hold just as his legs swung out over the cliff edge. Bicycling wildly with both feet, he dragged himself back on to slightly more solid ground and rolled over on to his back.
The metal demon turned its attention away from the box on its arm. It took two clanking steps towards Drake and raised a knee to the level of its chest.
A foot came down. Drake squirmed into the shape of a letter C, and a metal heel was driven straight through the lid of another box, right where Drake’s stomach had been a half-second before.
Drake scrambled out of the guardian’s reach. The robot wobbled unsteadily, its right foot deep inside a storage tub, its left foot still standing atop the next box over. It was right at the edge of the cliff. Drake knew he wouldn’t get another chance like it.
He scurried, crab-like on his hands and feet over to where the robot teetered, and stopped at the box the metal foot was stuck in. The horned skull turned to face him. The red eyes burned with mechanical fury. Drake dug his heels against the edge of the box’s lid, gritted his teeth, and pushed.
The guardian’s own size worked against it. As soon as the box began to move, the robot’s weight helped to increase its momentum. The one hand of the Deathblade Guardian that wasn’t stuck inside a plastic box reached out and grabbed for Drake, but it was too late. As the top box fell away from the cliff, it brought the others below it along for the ride.
The robot let out a high-pitched whine, as the vertical stack of a hundred or more plastic storage boxes toppled like a felled tree towards the ground far, far below.
Drake watched the tumbling demon-shaped figure until it smashed hard against the junk-strewn floor. He kept watching for another few minutes, but it didn’t get back up.
“I did it,” he muttered to himself, scarcely able to believe it. Then, to the voice of the Deathblade, “I did it!”
But the voice of the Deathblade didn’t answer.
He had just started walking back towards the