The Good, the Bad and the Deadly 7 Page 7

  ‘I mean to say, finding a tiny trace of Buzzard’s soul will do nothing to quench its grief, which must be immense, and so the creature will then very likely, if I may borrow a phrase you are fond of, go absolutely bananas.’

  Nelson could already imagine what ‘going bananas’ would look like: St Paul’s Cathedral being smashed like all those French villages on the TV news.

  ‘Nelson? Have you left the windows open?’ It was Nelson’s mother. She was already at the top of the stairs. He could hear the floorboards creak as she crossed the landing.

  ‘It’s my mum! How am I supposed to explain all this to her?’

  It was too late to answer that question. Nelson’s mother opened the door, and the bats took to the air like a bunch of gloves in a tornado.

  ‘OH MY GOD!’ she cried, and Nelson dropped to the floor, covering his head with his hands.

  ‘BATS!’ she screamed as she swatted at them with one arm while the other covered her face. ‘STEPHEN!’ she cried.

  ‘JUST COMING!’ was his father’s reply from downstairs.

  Nelson crawled under his bed as the bats rushed to get out of the broken windows.

  ‘WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?’ shouted Nelson’s father as he ran up the stairs, but by the time he had arrived at Nelson’s bedroom door, all the bats had gone. (And you will be pleased to hear, they all returned to the zoo. Except one. There’s always one. She’s out there somewhere having a whale of a time.)

  ‘There were bats, Stephen! Bats everywhere! Look! They smashed the window! Nelson? Nelson, where are you?’

  ‘I’m under the bed!’

  Nelson’s mother and father dropped to their knees and peered under the bed.

  ‘Are you OK, love? Did they bite you?’

  ‘Uh . . . no. No I’m fine, thanks.’

  ‘What on earth happened, Nelse?’ said Nelson’s father.

  ‘Load of bats, Dad,’ said Nelson. ‘Just flew in through the window. I dunno why.’

  ‘First Pogo and Doody, then this storm-cloud thing smashing up France, and now bats in the bedroom? Blimey! It’s like the world is coming to an end, son.’

  Nelson’s father had no idea just how right he was.

  On the other side of London, in the Fruit Bat Forest of London Zoo, Miser stepped out from the ring of bats hanging above his head and addressed his six fellow monsters, all waiting eagerly for news.

  ‘I have learned some very useful facts about this monster, but sadly our call was cut short by the arrival Nelson’s mother.’

  ‘Oh, not his mum,’ groaned Spike. ‘We just got him in more trouble. And that means he’s gonna hate us even more now.’

  ‘That may well be so.’ Miser turned to one fruit bat in particular and nodded respectfully before addressing him. ‘Thank you, Godfrey. I do not know if this will come to anything, but you and your fellow fruit bats have been most helpful tonight.’

  ‘We are happy to help if it means stopping this monster,’ said Godfrey. ‘Let’s hope your human friend is willing to help too.’

  *

  Nelson was supposed to be revising for a maths test, but now he was making up his bed in the spare room while his parents tidied up the broken glass and mess the bats had made in his bedroom. How on earth was he supposed to revise, let alone sleep, after what just happened? A stupid grief-riddled monster was on its way to destroy London. Should he warn his parents? Run into the street and tell everyone to take cover? Of course he couldn’t do that. No one would believe him.

  ‘I’ve got to do something,’ said Nelson to himself, but it was difficult to get his thoughts together as they were still jumbled by the bat experience. He needed to pin the facts down in order to make sense of them, and among his homework Nelson found the two things everyone needs in a confusing situation: a pen (or a pencil; you can’t be choosy in an emergency) and some paper.

  It didn’t matter that this piece of paper already had a half-written book report on it. Nelson used the space below to write down everything he was thinking.

  Nelson imagined Celeste reading the list over his shoulder and he felt ashamed for including his own problems at school when the lives of thousands, maybe even millions of other people were at stake. And what would the monster do after it had destroyed London? Would it just keep going until the world had been destroyed?

  There was something he could do. He could gather up his own monsters and he could try to stop this monster. At least he knew exactly where it was headed, and surely seven against one was a good bet? But then again, tomorrow was Monday, he had a test in the morning, and if he failed he would be in a world of trouble. Nelson grabbed the pen again and furiously crossed the last line out.

  Beneath this Nelson wrote . . .

  He knew he could choose only one of these options. And Nelson chose to save the world.

  WHAT TO PACK WHEN YOU ARE OFF TO SAVE THE WORLD

  The broken glass had been cleared and cardboard from cereal packets stuck over Nelson’s broken windows to keep out the wind, but it was still too cold for him to sleep in there.

  Nelson’s mum and dad peered around the spare bedroom door, and light from the landing illuminated his sleeping face.

  ‘Goodnight, Nelse. Sleep tight,’ whispered his dad, pulling the door shut.

  His performance of ‘boy fast asleep’ was worthy of an award, but there would be no sleep for Nelson tonight. He opened his eyes and threw back his duvet to reveal that he was already dressed in his black hooded sweater, dark blue jeans and grey-and-white sneakers. From the cupboard, he took out the backpack already filled with everything he usually took on his nights out with his monsters.

  ✔ One empty water bottle. Nelson planned to fill it up later, but with something far more refreshing than ordinary tap water.

  ✔ One packet of sticking plasters for small cuts and grazes. These happened to be decorated with images of characters from SpongeBob SquarePants.

  ✔ Three packets of chewing gum. His monsters loved this stuff, and a mouthful of gum was guaranteed to keep them all quiet for a few minutes.

  ✔ Matches. He had never used the matches, but they always seemed like a good thing to pack.

  ✔ Gloves. Even on summer nights, Nelson’s hands always got cold after midnight.

  ✔ Mexican wrestler mask. Just in case he needed to hide his appearance from people or surveillance cameras.

  ✔ Oyster card. You never know when you might need to jump on a train or a bus.

  ✔ Two extra-large Fruit & Nut chocolate bars. Snacks are important.

  ✔ Pen and paper. Always more useful than you would think!

  ✔ Mobile phone and charger. Useful for Google Maps and watching YouTube clips of skateboarders falling over (Stan’s favourite thing in the world).

  ✔ Portable Bluetooth speaker. Music was fun to listen to, and also had surprising effects on Hoot.

  ✔ A satsuma. Along with clementines, the best travelling fruit there is. Bananas always get smooshed, apples bruised, and plums – just forget it. The satsuma or the clementine is the go-to fruit for all sensible heroes. Small and already wrapped by nature.

  ✔ Face flannel and soap. After a night out on an adventure, it was important to wash away the dirt before you walked back into your house. Also great for dealing with sticky hands after eating the previously mentioned satsuma.

  ✔ Head torch. This was very useful for getting around at night-time and leaving your hands free for the last thing on the list, which was also the only thing Nelson hadn’t packed in his backpack . . .

  ✔ Electric scooter that his uncle Pogo had custom-made for him (it looked like a regular stand-up scooter, but it had a top speed of forty-five miles per hour). It was waiting for him under a plastic sheet against the side passage of the house. He would have to be very careful to sneak it through the gate without alerting his parents.

  As Nelson pulled the backpack over his shoulder, the words ‘I’M A WINNER’ caught his eye. It was the slogan on the T-shirt of the f
luffy rhino.

  Though Ivan had meant it as a good-luck charm for his exams, Nelson felt a desire to trade that luck for the task ahead, and so he shoved the fluffy rhino into the top of his backpack.

  It had been several weeks since he last snuck out of the house, but on all of those previous occasions, it had been to have fun with his seven monster friends. This time he had no idea if he would make it home alive.

  FRIENDS REUNITED

  Crush was the first to sense it and he started running towards the outer fence before he even knew what he was doing. ‘Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk! Hooooooooonk!’

  ‘’E’s comin’!’ shouted Stan, who had joined Crush, Spike, Miser and Nosh bounding along the pathway towards the giant aviary. They all felt the same joyous feeling: Nelson was coming! The monsters cheered and jumped as they ran through the zoo. The animals picked up on the happy vibrations resonating from the monsters and began to think nice things, like being reunited with lost family members or returning to their jungles, oceans, forests, deserts or, in the case of the dung beetles, piles of fresh dung.

  The iron fence at the rear of the zoo backed directly on to Regent’s Canal, and the monsters pressed their faces between the bars and strained to be the first to catch a glimpse of Nelson.

  ‘Is he . . . is he here?’ panted Puff as he joined the others at the fence.

  ‘I can’t see ’im yet! But ’e ain’t far! I can feel it!’ said Stan, breathless with excitement.

  All the monsters fell silent and stared at the footpath. They knew he was going to appear any second now as certainly as they knew it was night-time.

  ‘Ta-daaaaah!’ sang Hoot, and the monsters looked up to see the great golden bird descending from the night sky with Nelson hanging from his claws. His monsters cheered and as soon as Nelson had dropped the scooter and his feet had touched the ground, they were all over him. Crush leaped into his arms, and Nosh was hugging him before Nelson could even speak. Stan couldn’t stop laughing and slapping Nelson on the back while Spike began to cry with happiness.

  ‘Quite an entrance, wouldn’t you say? Well, I certainly would. You see, I knew Master Nelson was on his way, and so what did I do? I swooped down, or rather I soared majestically like this, you see . . .’ Hoot continued to describe how he had picked Nelson up from the pathway beside the canal as if it were a greater achievement than climbing Mount Everest, but no one was listening.

  ‘So what do we do now?’ said Stan in the most hopeful and eager tone of voice anyone had ever heard from him.

  ‘Well, I think we should try to save the world,’ said Nelson, and the monsters cheered. Well, not all the monsters cheered. Puff was in the midst of yawning, and Hoot was still talking to himself.

  ‘Spike, we’re really gonna need some of your snot tonight.’

  Yes, you heard correctly. Nelson has just asked for some of Spike’s snot. Now, don’t go getting all squeamish. Spike is a walking, talking cactus, so instead of blowing mucus out of his nostrils like you and I would, Spike produces a thick green gel similar to aloe vera. Unlike snot, aloe vera is packed with extremely high levels of goodness. It’s the opposite of disgusting – it’s fantastic!

  ‘Go on then. Let’s get this over with,’ moaned Spike.

  Nelson took out his water bottle, unscrewed the cap and began to tickle the spot just beneath Spike’s nostrils.

  ‘Ahhh-tchoo!’ sneezed Spike, and jets of thick green gel shot out of his nose.

  Nelson caught it in his water bottle and continued to tickle Spike and make him sneeze until he had filled it right to the top. And then he took a big gulp for himself. (Even though I told you Nelson was not collecting snot but a very healthy plant extract, you are still finding this disgusting, aren’t you?)

  The effect was instant. The green liquid dissolved and dispersed through Nelson’s body, wiping out all of the toxins that had built up from consuming modern foods and drinks and breathing city air. It left his entire body and mind as clear and refreshed as a mountain stream. Nelson’s thoughts, which until now had been jumbled, suddenly lined up like soldiers on parade; his muscles twanged, eager to move; his lungs and airways were clear of dust particles; his eyesight was twice as sharp, and his hearing twice as clear. This is how members of tribes living natural lives feel all of the time, but for folks living in the modern world, this feeling is rare. Spike’s green liquid also happened to taste a bit lemony, which was a nice bonus.

  It was Nosh who had discovered the power of Spike’s snot. He had been drawn to a handkerchief covered in green liquid and only after licking the thing clean had he discovered it had been used by Spike to catch a sneeze. Nosh had felt the rush of his body being cleansed and supercharged and didn’t waste a second in sharing his discovery with the others. Bites, stings and burns they had incurred over the summer had all been cured instantly by this green liquid, and just one sip made them feel like they’d just received an upgrade.

  As the other monsters took their sip from the water bottle, Nelson began to spell out the plan he’d been thinking of on the way over.

  ‘We know this monster is heading to St Paul’s, so we can be there before it arrives, and when it does . . . well, I think we should set up an ambush and trap it somehow.’

  ‘LET’S KILL IT!’ roared Stan, and the others cheered, their spirits higher than they’d been in weeks.

  ‘You can’t kill it. It’s a monster like you, and you lot are immortal, right?’

  The monsters didn’t answer. Instead they fell silent and looked at the ground as if embarrassed to answer.

  ‘What?’ said Nelson. ‘Why have you gone all quiet?’

  Puff cleared his throat, rolled on to his back and stretched his paws into the air. He loved the effect of the cactus juice. Other than fear, it was the only thing that woke his sleepy mind and body up.

  ‘Nuffin is immortal, Nelson. Everything comes to an end . . . in the end. And monsters – we can be destroyed, but only in a fire as hot as the sun.’

  ‘Ah-ha!’ said Miser, his lips smacking, having taken a sip of cactus juice. ‘Puff is on to something!’

  ‘What? What is Puff talking about?’ asked Nelson.

  ‘Nosh has got a furnace in his belly that could roast a hundred monsters.’

  ‘YEAH!’ roared Nosh! ‘LEMME DO DAT! I WANNA EAT DAT FING AND ROAST IT IN MA BELLY!’

  The monsters were excited. They bounced around and panted like dogs desperate to go for a walk. Crush’s short, sharp honks had the effect of an air horn on a crowd of football supporters. Only Nelson felt uneasy at this plan.

  ‘Whoa, Nosh!’ said Nelson. ‘It’s not just gonna turn up at St Paul’s like a takeaway pizza for you to munch, is it? It’s a monster. A really angry, crazy monster that can fly really fast and freeze a whole forest and kill anything in its way. I mean, it’s gonna be nuts just trying to catch this thing, let alone feed it to you.’

  Stan grinned and slammed a fist into his other palm. ‘Bring it on, baby!’

  Nelson looked out across the park and at the city surrounding it. ‘Oh man. This city’s gonna get wrecked in the process.’ He turned to Miser. ‘Is there any way we can stop it from coming to London?’

  ‘There is indeed.’

  ‘Really? I was totally expecting you to say no to that.’

  ‘’Tis quite simple. We take Buzzard’s soul far away from the cathedral and the city to a safer, less populated location. Maybe woodland or a costal area?’ Miser’s fingers drummed together in front of his nose as his bulbous eyes rolled around in their sockets. Miser was never more creepy-looking than when he was hatching a plan.

  ‘And how are we going to do that? Catch Buzzard’s soul, I mean.’

  ‘Just as simply as we were extracted from you. All we shall require is a needle from the sin extractor and a vessel in which to contain the remains of Buzzard’s soul.’

  ‘Oh for cryin’ out loud.’ Stan was clearly fed up. ‘Why can’t we just have normal plan, eh? A good old-fashioned punch-up n
ot good enough for you lot though, is it? Nah – too easy. Instead we gotta carry some bloke’s soul somewhere – I dunno – flippin’ miles away and use it like bait to catch this fing who we then ’ave to feed to fatboy over ’ere.’

  ‘Dat plan sounds wicked!’ said Nosh eagerly.

  And though Nelson didn’t quite share Nosh’s enthusiasm, he knew it was the only plan they had.

  SURLY KAREN AND THE SIN EXTRACTOR

  From the outside, it looked just like any of the other box-shaped buildings on Eagle Wharf Road, but inside were priceless historical treasures either waiting to be studied and transferred to the Museum of London, or to be cleaned and returned to their display cases. Nelson knew the security guards from his previous visits to see Doody and his uncle Pogo at work, but tonight Nelson could see through the window that someone new was on duty.

  The guard, whose name was Karen, was watching TV on her phone and picking suspiciously at a curry she had just microwaved in a plastic pot, when Nelson knocked on the glass window of her booth.

  ‘Wh-who are you? Eh? W-what do you want?’ she stammered while putting down her dinner and switching off her phone.

  ‘Erm . . . my uncle works here. His name is—’

  ‘There’s no one working here tonight. It’s Sunday.’

  ‘I know, but my uncle usually works here and he always lets me in.’

  ‘Nah. No public access.’

  ‘Honestly. Perry Goldsmith? His nickname is Pogo. He works with Doody. I mean, Professor John Doody.’

  ‘Yeah, I know ’em, but they’re not here. They were in an accident and we’re closed to the public.’

  ‘I know, but . . . I was here visiting them the other day, and I left my homework here. They were helping me with it. I know where it is. It’s at the back, in the workshop, and . . . and I’ll get detention if I don’t hand it in tomorrow.’

  Surly Karen sucked her teeth as she looked as Nelson’s pleading face. Her curry was getting cold, but then again it couldn’t get any worse. It had so far been one of the worst curries she had ever eaten. She clearly had no intention of letting Nelson into the building, which is why Nelson started to cry. His earlier performance of ‘boy fast asleep’ had been great, but this performance of ‘boy very upset’ was off the charts!