Sonic the Hedgehog--The Official Movie Novelization Read online

  PENGUIN YOUNG READERS LICENSES

  An Imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, New York

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  © 2020 Paramount Pictures Corporation and Sega of America, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Penguin Young Readers Licenses, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Visit us online at www.penguinrandomhouse.com.

  Ebook ISBN 9780593095607

  pid_prh_5.5.0_c0_r0

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  He had to go fast. Faster than a jet plane. Faster than the speed of sound. Faster than lightning. Sonic had to be the fastest thing alive.

  What choice did he have with the missiles on his heels?

  Crash! Shoooom!

  “Hey, come on, Doc! You’re trashing public property here!” Sonic called over his shoulder.

  The shards of breaking glass fell in slow motion behind him. Sonic curved his path, and his whole body spun in a blue blur out onto San Francisco Bay. As he splashed out across the water, he could feel the first heat-seeker barreling down on him. And behind it he could hear the laughter of a certain maniac with bad breath and a weirdo mustache. Robotnik.

  Even with the craziness of that egg-shaped pod of destruction close behind, Sonic couldn’t stop asking himself how he got to this point. Where did this adventure all start? California? Planet Earth? These weren’t places where a talking blue hedgehog was supposed to exist. Not like home.

  Maybe that’s where it all started. Back home. Back with Longclaw . . .

  The island was as mysterious as it was beautiful. Lush green plant life sprung from the ground in perfect geometric patterns. Crystal clear waterfalls cascaded into endless sandy beaches. And the ground twisted and turned not into hills but wild loops that only he could spring through without falling. And when he ran around them, there was music in the air.

  But there was danger there, too. She had warned him.

  Longclaw was the last of her kind, a noble line of warrior owls dedicated to maintaining balance for all living creatures. Outfitted in blades and battle armor, Longclaw’s order had fought for years to protect their world—a world where the animals of the forest and the fields had evolved to be the dominant species; a world ruled by claw and fang.

  But by the time Sonic knew her, the old owl was less a radical warrior and more a wise mother. She was the only one who had cared for him after the emergence of his powers. Even in their world, the blue fur . . . the electric speed . . . it was nearly indescribable. There were some who believed his powers would unleash chaos on the world.

  And so Longclaw took him into hiding on the island. There he could run free and be something close to a normal kid. The most chaotic things about his life were his hilarious pranks. That’s how he saw it.

  Whooooosh!

  Wind whipped through the old hut they shared on that last night. Longclaw reached for the scabbard of her ancient blade. Her wings twitched as she called, “Who goes there?”

  “Ha! Gotcha again!” Sonic laughed as he popped out from under the bed’s covers. He’d just hit the place with an immense amount of wind.

  “Sonic!” Longclaw called, leaning on her weapon for support. “You can’t go bouncing across the island like that! Someone could have seen you.”

  “No one saw me—I’m too fast! And anyway, I wanted to bring you this.”

  He lifted up a sunflower, radiant and delicate. They grew on the far side of the island. The one that pointed back to the rest of the world.

  The old owl took the blossom in her feathers and touched it gingerly. Then her eyes snapped into focus. She heard something. “Get down!” Longclaw shouted, and wrapped Sonic in her mighty wings.

  Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

  A flash of arrows flew through the windows and embedded themselves in the hut’s weak walls.

  A split second later, Longclaw blasted through the roof with Sonic clenched firmly in her talons. On the edges of his vision, Sonic could see who had fired the arrows: echidnas! They were coarse, vicious cousins of hedgehogs. And the hoods these ones wore showed their allegiance to the powerful warlords who had chased Sonic his whole life. They wanted to unleash the chaos energy inside him and overtake the world.

  And by visiting the far side of the island where he’d most certainly been spotted, he’d led them right to his home.

  The echidnas swarmed everywhere around the hut. Their army marched dark trails across the face of the beautiful island like black veins. There was no escaping them or the arrows that reached into the sky after Longclaw and Sonic.

  Thwock!

  “Arrrgggh!” Longclaw cried as her flapping ceased and both she and Sonic crashed to the forest floor. Sonic rose to his feet, but she stumbled again. The echidnas would be on them at any moment, but all he could think about was the wound he saw on Longclaw where the arrow bit deep into her side.

  “Listen carefully, Sonic,” she coughed as she limped to his side. “You have a power unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And that means someone will always want it. The only way to stay safe is to stay hidden. And you’ll have to do it without me.”

  “NO!” Years later, Sonic still remembered the sting of tears in his eyes. “I’ll shock them all until they never come for us again!”

  “It’s too late for that. And besides, you don’t want to live only to destroy. You were meant for more than chaos,” she said, like she had a thousand times before. “I don’t know why this power came to you, but I have to believe that it was for more than being a pawn in someone else’s game. That’s why you must use the rings to travel to another planet—one whose inhabitants are ignorant of the larger universal order.”

  She showed him how they worked, the golden rings of almost unimaginable power. But Longclaw always warned Sonic that their powers were finite. He could hold one in his hands, imagine a place he wanted to travel, and the ring would expand to warp him where he wanted to go. But then it would dissipate. He didn’t have many rings left, and he didn’t dare put them to use unless it was absolutely necessary. This was the last thing she made him promise.

  “Stay secret. Stay safe,” Longclaw had said as a
brutal coughing overtook her. “You can travel with one to this ‘Earth’ first. It may be easier to survive there. But if they ever find you, these humans will do terrible things to you, Sonic. I’ve seen what they’re capable of. So if you’re ever cornered, keep this place in your mind.”

  She lifted a ring and called forth an image of a faraway planet. Its luscious green valleys and streams were populated everywhere by massive mushrooms—bright shades of red and green and purple that were beautiful to look at but ultimately empty.

  “What if I just spoke to a few of them? The humans?” Sonic had asked. “Someone I could trust!”

  “Trust no one!” Longclaw said, gasping with her final breaths. “Promise me!”

  “I . . . I promise,” he said.

  It had either been the smartest choice or the biggest mistake of his life, but the promise had been made.

  * * *

  No need to guilt-trip myself about it now, he thought as the missiles sped ever closer.

  Because now that he was possibly facing his own end at the hands of Robotnik, Sonic finally understood what Longclaw had meant. This adventure with the humans was dangerous and deadly.

  So where did this story really begin? It was in Green Hills. Months ago. On the side of the road where Sonic finally connected with his only friend. And his only hope.

  Tom Wachowski hadn’t expected nonstop action when he signed up for the force. Maybe the occasional car chase, he thought, or it’d be nice to foil a smuggling ring now and then. He certainly hadn’t thought serving as a police officer in Green Hills meant shoot-outs and explosions all day long.

  But as he sat in his squad car at the town’s only speed trap where no one ever seemed to speed by, it was as if Tom could feel all the excitement in the world passing him by.

  Deet-deet!

  Tom’s radar gun flickered to life and registered a pathetic “1.0 mph” on its screen.

  “Excuse me, sir, but where’s the fire?” he called out the window. “We got kids livin’ around here!”

  In the street ahead of him, a fat green turtle shrugged his way across the gravel, unimpressed.

  “Sorry,” Tom said in mock distress. “I thought that was kinda funny myself.”

  That was how Tom’s days went in Green Hills. In the morning, clock turtles here on Route 9. Before lunch, save a cat out of Mrs. Porter’s tree. Then spend the night shift getting soaked pushing Farmer Zimmer’s pickup out of the mud. Everything just crawled on by.

  Green Hills was home. It always had been. And Tom knew every picket fence, public park, and lemonade stand in it. The town had all kinds of people living in its limits, and Tom’s job was to treat them all with the same respect. Just like his dad had done before him. It was the Wachowski family calling. But it wasn’t enough.

  “Sergeant Sprinkles,” Tom said, leveling his eyes at the plastic donut cartoon character that sat on his dash. “If your investigation turns up anything happening in Green Hills—anything at all—please forward it to me immediately so I don’t totally lose my mind from boredom.”

  The plastic figure sat inert.

  “Best cop on the force,” said Tom.

  Deet-deet!

  The red numbers on Tom’s radar gun lit up. He straightened in his seat and checked the screen. “Two hundred and eighty-three miles per hour?” Tom asked while checking his rearview mirror to see all of zero jet planes speeding down the road. “Thing must be broken.”

  Deet-deet!

  The radar went off again in his hands. This time it read 296 mph. Tom gripped his steering wheel as if a tornado might pick him up off the ground. He waited. But nothing happened.

  Suddenly, a shadow zipped across his rearview mirror. But it wasn’t on the road. Something was lurking on the shoulder, some prankster out to play with Tom’s relaxing afternoon.

  Tom spun around like a gunslinger in the Old West and pointed his radar right where he thought he saw the shadow. Deet-deet! 299 mph. Things were getting freaky now.

  “I better check this out, Sarge,” Tom said as he opened the cruiser door and stepped out. “Cover my six, partner.”

  In a flash, a swirling dust cloud kicked up around Tom.

  Deet-deet! Deet-deet! Deet-deet! The radar went crazy. 300 then 302 then 305 mph!

  Then suddenly . . . SCHWOOOOOOM! went the wind, blowing Tom back and onto the gravel ground.

  BLOORP! The radar gun went off in his hand, but this time it didn’t even register a number. Too fast to even clock.

  “Sarge, you better call this in,” Tom said as he stood up. But his plastic partner was more absent than usual. Sergeant Sprinkles had disappeared into thin air.

  Tom crept around the cruiser. The gust of wind that had knocked him down had blown away from the road like the smoke trail of a rocket. An eerie calm hung over the scene as he stepped up the slope away from the road. Here and there, the grass was flattened down, making a trail up and into the woods.

  With slow steps, Tom walked up the path until it stopped in the middle of the hillside. There was a circular divot there, like a launching pad. The ground was warm, and sitting in the middle of the flattened blades of grass was something glowing—something blue.

  Tom picked it up slowly. It shimmered in his hand like something electrified, but it didn’t hurt. It was a needle, about as long as Tom’s forearm. Or was it, maybe, some kind of . . . quill?

  “Well, it’s official, Tom,” he said to himself. “You’ve caught the crazy. It’s time to get the heck out of Green Hills before the condition becomes permanent.”

  * * *

  The rest of Tom’s day delivered the same mix of boring and oddly mysterious. He played crossing guard for the town’s most beloved raft of ducks. And things were looking up when a code 674 (disorderly conduct at the local watering hole) came in over the radio. Maybe he’d get to do some real police work and not just play animal control.

  But, of course, it was just Carl again.

  “Don’t laugh at me, man. I seen it. I seen it clearer than anybody ever has!” The old nut was harmless, really. But Carl upset people when he got too animated about his conspiracy theories. It didn’t help that certain folks in town egged him on.

  “So if you saw this thing, Carl, what exactly did it look like?” The bartender smirked as Tom walked up to the small circle of patrons.

  “Of course you guys called me for story hour,” Tom said. “Why would anyone in this town call the police because of actual danger?”

  “Oh, Tom! Thank goodness you’re here!” Carl leaped onto a chair to tell his tale with shaking hands. “That’s just the thing about the phenomenon on the edge of Green Hills! It’s a blur. Haunting houses in town and making mischief; disappearing pies and TP-ing your houses at night. He’s a blue devil! I tells ya, he’s here to terrorize this town!”

  “I’m sure you saw something, Carl.” Tom led him outside while thinking of the quill that still sat in the back of his car. “I’ve got to hope something is happening in this town.”

  Later, he pulled his cruiser into the driveway as dusk fell. Tom heard a scratching behind his trash cans again. “Trash pandas!” he called into the bushes, and then walked in to find Maddie curled up with a book in her favorite yoga gear. “Doctor, what’s the most humane way to eliminate raccoons that will also put the fear into their various offspring and familial relations?”

  “Don’t you dare hurt those poor creatures, Officer Wachowski,” Maddie said with a smile. She held up an envelope from her perch on the couch. “Besides, you’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

  “No way, is that . . . ?” Tom rushed to snatch the envelope out of her hand.

  “Unless someone from San Francisco is hitting you up for money, it looks like it.”

  Tom hesitated. “It’s small. Is that bad? Should it be bigger?”

  “There goes doubting Tom again,”
Maddie said as she rolled her eyes. “You’re worse than me when I applied to vet school. Just open it!”

  Tom slowly opened the envelope, then read the letter aloud:

  WE HAVE REVIEWED YOUR APPLICATION TO THE SAN FRANCISCO POLICE DEPARTMENT AND PENDING INTRA-DEPARTMENTAL REVIEW AND BACKGROUND CHECK . . .

  Tom squeezed the paper in his hand.

  WE ARE HAPPY TO INFORM YOU . . .

  “I got it!” he yelled.

  They kissed and danced around the kitchen. Maddie brought out a cake she had baked him (and tossed the backup one for in case he didn’t get it). But she never really doubted him. Maddie always backed Tom 100 percent. She announced her plans to fly out immediately to start scoping out places to live in America’s toughest real estate market. Tom felt a thrill at the idea of leaving, but also the sting of his nerves.

  Later, after she had gone to bed, Tom snuck out to the garage and stared at his “vision board”—a massive picture of San Francisco’s Transamerica Pyramid building shining over the city.

  “That’s where the action is,” he said to himself. “Far away from Green Hi—”

  Smash!

  Tom ran toward the door with hopes of nabbing a raccoon, but all he could see was the lid from his overturned trash can rolling away in the distance.

  It was a rush. A thrill. A rocket ride to the other side and back again. Even if it only lasted for a second.

  Sonic could get close to these people. He saw how they lived. He heard what they said. And sometimes, for just a second, he reached out and took a part of their world with him. Then, with a screech of his feet, he was gone. And no one ever saw. That’s how fast he was.

  “Another day, another flawless run,” he told himself while trying to get a better grip on the day’s haul. “Way past cool.”

  He roared up through the hills and hit the entrance to the cave at top speed. Bouncing around the room, Sonic started to feel a charge shiver up his blue quills, and the heat of his red sneakers as they skipped across the stalactites. Even with the electric trails his oversize hedgehog body traced when he went full blast, he’d never been caught.