Read Trashland a Go-Go for Free Online Page B

BEEEEEP! BEEEEP!”
    Coco jumped back startled and flattened herself against the wall with such force that the entire section let out a low miserable groan and collapsed behind her.

Coco lay flat on her back atop a pile of rust-colored wood. A large dust cloud rose, leaving her unable to see what came toward her—whirring, beeping and grinding. A large shadow loomed out of the dust, blurry at first, but becoming clearer as it approached. It appeared to be a robot—a terribly disorganized robot—and as it got closer she began to be able to decipher its construction.
    It had a small round object for a head, which looked like it was jammed on a spike and driven into its bulky, square body. Its boxy torso had a smaller glowing square in its center. Two long arms waved from its sides. Two crazy legs were attached in such a way that caused the robot to walk in uneven, awkward steps.
    When it was closer, Coco saw that the robot’s head was something from her childhood—the rounded chubby face of a Cabbage Patch Kid. Its hair had all been torn out except for a few small tufts of ragged yarn. Small holes littered the scalp. A metal antenna stuck through the center of its ragged plastic skull. A red light flashed at the antenna’s tip. Coco could see that the robot’s black square torso was a huge, industrial microwave.
    The microwave beeped furiously. The LCD screen scrolled “FINISHED” in flashing green letters. Coco scrambled to her feet, and the thing moved toward her through the plume of filth.
    One of the robot’s arms was a long piece of PVC pipe with a hand mixer attached to the end. The spinning mixer was aimed at Coco who stood staring, paralyzed with fear. The machine began to shoot red and white projectiles with tiny flapping tails from its mixer arm.
    It wasn’t until one of them hit Coco that she realized they were tampons. Used tampons. She screamed and turned to run. The robot jumped forward and grabbed her by the hair with what Coco saw was a human arm. It was the gray, bloodless color of a lifeless limb, but it was muscular. Coco would have admired its well-sculpted muscles were they not attached to a gross, recycled arm trying to snap her bones through her skin.
    The machine continued its furious blending. It brought the blender closer and closer to Coco’s head, and although the spokes were not sharp enough to cut her, she screamed all the same. The machine continued to beep. It caught Coco’s hair in the mixer and pulled it tight.
    Tugging free meant tearing away a large portion of her scalp. But letting the monstrous robot keep ahold of her seemed worse. Coco pulled and struggled against the machine, screaming for someone to help her.
    The mixer whirred, tightening its grip. The microwave beeped. Coco could see a tampon stuck behind the mixer blades, twisting as they spun. From the corner of her eye, she saw the human arm reaching to the machine’s microwave chest. It opened the door while the mixer arm pulled her closer. The robot punched in numbers on the keypad and tried to shove Coco’s head inside. The human arm, with its fleshy, gray fingers punching buttons, reached for the START button.
    Coco screamed while the machine shoved her head inside the microwave. Her own shrieks nearly deafened her—bouncing off of the inside of the box. She closed her eyes tight and waited for a pile of bubbling goo to replace her face, kicking and pounding on the junky killing machine killing her.
    She wondered if the door had to be closed to nuke her head. Part of her hoped so, but part of her knew that meant decapitation was a possibility.
    As she twisted against the mixer tearing her hair, and its hard plastic arm holding her head inside the microwave, Coco felt another hand grasp the back of her dress and yank her backward. She heard the sound of metal scraping on metal as she flew back with her eyes squeezed closed.
    Coco landed on all fours and crawled away on shaky knees through sludge and soggy paper