“We’ve got to get them over that cliff,” Fang said as we began to come up behind them. They were still closing in on the bench, shooting round after round. The nearby trash can had been peppered with bullets, a sign hung down broken, and the cement bench looked like Swiss cheese. Most important, the metal railing had been shot to pieces and would easily give way.

“Yeah.” I frowned. “Aren’t they using heat sensors? They don’t know we’re not there!”

“Maybe they’re just programmed to go forward and shoot,” Fang said. “Or maybe someone’s controlling them remotely, and they can’t tell their target is gone.”

It was weird. Something felt off. There was a missing piece to this puzzle, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. But in the meantime, those ’bots were going overboard.

We came up from behind them, starting way high and then dive-bombing at more than two hundred miles an hour. I loved doing this — it’s like being in a video game where you have to recalculate your trajectory ten times a second so you don’t hit a building.

A few seconds before we hit them, we swung down in big arcs, our feet out in front of us.

Wham! I slammed into one so hard my teeth rattled. The impact lifted the ’bot almost two feet off the ground, sending it headfirst into the ’bot in front of it. Then it was just a matter of the domino effect.

We backed up as fast as we could and did it again. Before they could focus on us, the first line had already toppled through the shredded railing and dropped thirty feet down onto enormous, sharp-edged rocks. Ka-boom!

Only one of them managed to swivel in time to aim at us, but I went in low and kicked out its ankles, sliding on the asphalt and ripping huge holes in my best jeans. It tipped backward and then went over, still spewing bullets.

Cautiously, Fang and I peeked over the edge. Things were still sparking, there were a few lights still on, but there was no way for a heavy machine to survive that fall. With the bazillion dollars it must have cost to develop that technology, you would think that they would make them a little more impact tolerant.

We knew better than to hang around. Already, police cars and fire trucks were screeching to a halt, sirens blaring, lights going berserk. Fang and I raced silently along the edge of the boardwalk, then jumped over the edge, around the corner from where the ’bots had smashed.

Once again we whipped out our wings and soared out to sea, flying low and fast over the water. The balmy night air felt amazing on my face and in my hair.

So let’s take stock of the evening, shall we?