CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Excuse me?” said Greta. “Sorry, Mr. Rubberman, sir, but did you just say that this Iron Angel guy wants to bring his old sidekick back to life?”
Rubberman nodded. “Yes. That’s what I’ve gathered.”
“And he wants to sacrifice you to do it,” I said.
“Right,” said Rubberman. “I know it sounds crazy, but it is the truth.”
“Um, Mr. Rubberman?” said Greta. She spoke in the kind of calm, level voice I usually associated with psychiatrists talking with crazy people. “You know that it is impossible to bring people back to life, right?”
“I know, but Iron Angel apparently doesn’t,” said Rubberman. “Either that or he believes he’s found a way to do it. Either way, he’s going to need me for the ritual, which is why I had to run away before he could catch me.”
“How do you know he
