When these dreams started, they had just been silly dreams, embarrassing, horrible, but just normal dreams. Then they changed and he had started to feel the sea spray on his face, the wind in his hair.
And now he feels it all. The hardness of his chair. The splinter digging into the back of his leg. He can taste the tang of moss from the walls. He can feel his eyes adjusting as the candle flickers in front of the figure just beyond it.
‘What do you want?’ Hamish finally manages to say. He’d wanted to say it forcefully, angrily, to show this man he was no pushover, and he didn’t appreciate his dreams being invaded this way.
But Hamish doesn’t need a reply.
Because Hamish already knows the answer.
16
DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL: 3
‘Tell me more about the boot you found,’ said Alice, as Smasha sniffed the ground and led the way.
‘Well, it was Lydia’s,’ said Kit. ‘A cherry red army boot. If a unicorn had grabbed her in the same place, it must have given her quite a shake.’
They had been following the trail for some time now, feeling a bit hopeless, but completely unaware that they were actually catching up with a largely unconscious Hamish.
‘I suppose you never found the second boot?’ asked Alice.
‘Look!’ said Smasha. ‘Banana fruit! Hither and thither! I should therefore assume they most definitely came this way.’
Alice felt sorry for Smasha. It must be very tiring talking that way the whole time.
The forest was getting darker the deeper they travelled.
‘How long have you known Hamish?’ asked Kit.
‘Actually not that long,’ said Alice. ‘But we’ve had enough adventures to make it seem a lifetime. Why?’
‘My grandmamma was a great believer in dreams and their power. She believed you could get important messages through them.’
‘What’s that got to do with me and Hamish?’ asked Alice. ‘And, if it’s true, then how come all my dreams are about random stuff, like swimming in a pool full of snooker balls that turn out to be my teacher?’
‘Okay, not all dreams mean things,’ said Kit. ‘But my grandmamma would tell me about some of hers. And she told me one about a town that was under attack from a great unknown. The town was cut off from help from the outside. She described it so perfectly. And when I got to Starkley, well . . . it really reminded me of it.’
Alice grew uncomfortable.
‘How did the dream end?’ she said.
‘All she said was that she saw a boy, a chosen one, standing on a cliff top. His clothes blowing wildly in the wind. A kid you’d never suspect might be the answer. And with the help of his friends, only he could vanquish the monster when called.’
‘Hamish . . .’ whispered Alice.
‘Oh dear!’ shouted Smasha, up ahead. ‘We have company!’
Alice immediately struck a karate pose. Kit pulled out his Mon-Stunna and crackled it to life. From above them came a terrifying . . .
HOOOOOOWWWWLLLL!
The noise grew and grew until it seemed to be everywhere, coming from every angle possible.
‘Howler monkeys!’ yelled Kit.
‘Monkeys?’ said Alice. ‘Oh, I love monkeys!’
Suddenly, to her left, a monkey dropped from a tree. Two more landed beside it.
They stood on their hind legs.
They were much taller than she’d imagined, with long and scrawny arms. They began to walk towards her, menacingly.
These monkeys did not look friendly, with pinched faces, scarred legs and mean eyes.
More monkeys scooted down trees and shrieked at them, and, in the trees above, others yelled and shook the branches, sending bits of the trees tumbling down. Two of the ones on the ground pushed Smasha back into the trees.
‘Get off!’ he shouted. ‘Stop monsterhandling me!’
Kit and Alice stood back to back, as more muscular primates circled them aggressively.
‘What do we do?’ said Alice. ‘I’ve never fought a monkey!’
‘Get back!’ yelled Kit, waving his pretend weapon in front of him to no effect whatsoever.
A howler lunged at Alice, its little fingers prodding her, hard. It was testing the water, seeing what she’d do and if she could defend herself. They’d probably never seen many humans before. They must have wondered what these strange bald monkeys were.
Kit stepped forward. He knew this was his chance to redeem himself in Alice’s eyes. But he seemed uncertain again.
‘Can’t you do a spell?’ said Alice, desperately, as the atmosphere turned more dangerous. ‘You said you can do spells!’
‘I can, but not very well!’ said Kit.
‘Oh, just try it!’
But Kit had another plan.
‘SMASHA!’ he shouted. ‘MONSTER UP!’
Immediately, Smasha thundered out of the undergrowth – he’d torn off his boiler suit to reveal his full Puffox body and he seemed bigger and badder than he had before. There was no posh voice now – just the full and throaty ROAR of a proper monster!
The monkeys that had been clambering over him began to screech and panic. A few others fled, leaping up trees and swinging away. But the bigger ones raised their arms and made their war cries and stepped forward, challenging this weird furfish to make his stand.
Which is when the Puffox began to shake.
And tremble.
And positively vibrate.
And grow.
Not just his hands, and arms, and body . . .
But his whole head!
BA-POFF!
Smasha’s puffer fish head rapidly inflated to THREE TIMES its normal size!
Kit and Alice dove for cover as the monkeys began to squeal. Smasha waved his arms around and bared his four teeth and stomped his feet like a New Zealand rugby player doing a haka!
Well, this was pretty terrifying for most of the monkeys.
(You’re quite monkey-like – imagine how you’d feel if a big weirdo with a fish face suddenly inflated its head at you!)
And, as Smasha started to fire off small poison darts that whizzed through the air, the monkeys knew that this was a monster that meant business.
‘YES, Smasha!’ shouted Alice, punching the air. ‘Be the monster you were meant to be! Live your best monster life!’
Smasha jumped up and down, firing darts high into the air which tore through leaves and rained down around the monkeys. The animals fled, howling and screeching and bounding from tree to tree, until the noise of their calls faded into the distance.
Kit watched them go, his face a genuine picture of relief.
‘Howler monkeys don’t usually attack,’ he said, confused. ‘They just let you pass.’
‘Well, I’ll take it personally then,’ said Alice.
‘No,’ said Kit. ‘It means we’re heading in the right direction. Those monkeys were meant to stop us. Maybe they were placed here by the Superiors many years ago to warn people off. It shows that we’re not just on the way to find Hamish. We’re on the way to find Lydia.’
He got his map out and studied their position. His face fell.
‘But there may well be a pretty big problem first.’
Hamish came round feeling dizzy and confused by his latest dream, as well as being sore all over.
He had a sore head from where he’d knocked himself out on the Babassu tree.
He had a sore bottom from riding a unicorn at a thousand miles an hour.
He had a sore face from being constantly thwacked by every branch he seemed to pass.
And he had a sore tummy from eating one very green banana.
So, generally, he was sore. And he was also a bit grumpy now.
‘What did I trip on?’ he said, still flat on his back, as the unicorn nudged his face to make sure he was okay. ‘I will have my REVENGE!’
Oh, he would pick up that stone and throw it as far as he could.
Or, if it was a log, he’d give it a good kick.
He stood up and strode over to the patch of long grass that had been his downfall.
‘There’s something in there,’ he said, tapping at it with his foot. He still had to be careful. This was the jungle after all.
He peered closer.
Whatever it was, it was WET.
It had dark red, LEATHERY skin.
It had a dozen or so HOLES along its belly, and these holes looked almost like AWFUL SUCKERS.
It had wrapped its own long, loose TENTACLES across its saggy belly, and let them TRAIL either side of it, as if resting.
Its lazy TONGUE lolloped out, spilling from its neck, and its whole body ARCHED upwards, as if stretching.
And it was perfectly STILL, which made Hamish think it might be about to STRIKE!
He thought about tiptoeing away and forgetting the whole revenge thing.
And then he blinked once or twice and stared at it properly.
‘That’s not an animal.’
He picked the item up between two fingers. It was heavy and weather-beaten. It had holes in the bottom, perhaps from where a mouse or rat had made its home. Yeeeuch. Hamish was about to toss it to one side, when two thoughts struck him.
‘How did this get here?’ he said. ‘And who brought it?’
As he looked at it, Hamish suddenly realised this could be the most important old cherry red army boot in the world.
17
DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL: 3
Kit had spotted the huge drop on the map immediately and reasoned that, somewhere, there had to be a bridge across.
They had walked all the way to the edge, but it was way too steep to climb down, and far too wide to jump.
‘Smasha,’ said Kit. ‘Get back to the hotel. Bring the Astral Plane, okay? If all else fails, you can fly us across.’
‘But that’ll take ages!’ said Alice. ‘Poor Hamish is out there somewhere. And so’s Grandma Lydia, probably. And time’s running out for Starkley!’
‘I shall be as quick as possible, ma’am,’ said Smasha, a little sarcastically Alice thought, and then darted off into the undergrowth. Sadly, his head was still inflated, and he kept piercing leaves on his spikes. He would be very handy to have in the garden in the autumn, thought Alice. You could just roll him around and pick up all the leaves.
Now it was just her and Kit, Alice felt a bit uncomfortable. She had forgiven him now, because she’d realised that really her anger was just a need to blame someone for what had happened, and Kit’s plan with the monkeys had worked in the end . . . But she just felt safer around Hamish. And now she’d managed to lose him to a unicorn, which was not a sentence she’d ever expected to think.
Kit, however, seemed unconcerned. He was kneeling on the ground, studying something.
‘The soil is dry on this side,’ he said. ‘But over on that side, it seems damper. Look at the plants.’
In the distance, above the trees, Alice could make out some kind of tall hill, covered in rich vines and trees. It looked like a tropical playground.
Kit suddenly started to sniff the ground, which – in Alice’s honest opinion – was not a good look.
‘Mapinguari,’ he said.
‘Bless you,’ said Alice.
‘No. Mapinguari is a sort of giant sloth,’ said Kit. ‘Seven feet tall. They stink. They move silently through the jungle, but they’re heavy, hence the footprints.’
Alice looked where Kit was now pointing. She couldn’t see any footprints. Maybe he was quite useful after all. Unless there were no footprints, and he was just mad. After all, he said he could do spells but so far had absolutely failed to do even one.
‘But why would a Mapinguari be at the edge of a drop like this?’ Kit said to himself.
‘Because it’s looking for something?’ suggested Alice. ‘For a way across?’
Kit clicked his fingers as if to say ‘Yes!’
‘It went that way,’ said Kit, and they set off, trampling through the bushes, making sure not to fall off the edge of the cliff.
Uni could not stop sniffing that boot.
To be frank, Hamish had started to think it was a bit weird.
But the unicorn was obviously excited. It shoved its nose straight inside the boot and waggled it around, snorting and rearing all the while. It looked like it had found its first toy.
‘Okay,’ said Hamish. ‘Maybe we could head back now?’
Hamish knew it was silly just to talk English to a mythical creature in a foreign land, but they didn’t teach Unicorn Studies at Winterbourne School. Perhaps he’d suggest it to Frau Fussbundler when he got home.
If he got home.
Hamish decided if he started to walk back the way they came, maybe Uni would get the message.
But every time he stepped away, Uni clamped on to his jumper and pulled him back.
‘Friends,’ said Hamish, pointing back towards the trees. ‘My friends!’
Uni was having none of it. Instead he kept trying to lead Hamish further into the trees, like a dog who wanted to play.
Hamish didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to go with the unicorn and keep heading away from Alice and Kit. But he also didn’t want to be alone and lost. If all else failed, he could try and clamber on its back again and see where he ended up. At least that gave him a chance of finding help.
So, begrudgingly, Hamish followed the unicorn deeper into the jungle.
‘Aha!’ said Kit. ‘Look!’
In front of them was exactly what Alice did not want to see.
A rope bridge.
A thin, wobbly rope bridge.
Frayed.
Creaking in the wind.
Swaying a little too much.
A single jungle rat darted across it, with nimble and quick little feet that Alice felt quite jealous of. The rat stopped near the centre of the bridge to chew on some rope, then dashed away again.
‘Well, it’s a real pity there’s absolutely no way we can use this bridge,’ said Alice. ‘We’ll have to find another way.’
‘Ha!’ said Kit, deciding the founder member of the PDF must be joking. ‘Come on!’
He stepped one foot on to the bridge and looked back at her. The whole thing drooped slightly and the wooden stakes it was attached to shifted in the dirt.
‘People have been using this bridge for years, I’ll bet,’ said Kit, trying to be reassuring, before adding quietly: ‘Just don’t look down because you might spot some of them.’ Alice’s eyes widened. She was all for action, but this did not look safe. It did not sound safe. It did not feel safe. Putting all this evidence together, she decided this probably meant it wasn’t safe.
But Kit took another step, and the bridge held.
‘It’s okay,’ he said, offering her his hand. ‘This is what Monster Patrolling is all about!’
She took it, and stepped on.
‘How come you were so worried about your spell back there with the monkeys?’ said Alice. ‘I mean, it’s okay if you can’t do spells at all and you were just saying it to sound impressive.’
The bridge lowered slightly again.
‘I can do spells,’ said Kit. ‘Sometimes I just lack confidence. I get worried it won’t work or I’ll look stupid or not strong.’
‘Everyone worries about that sometimes,’ said Alice, who’d only stepped on to this awful bridge because she was worried she wouldn’t look strong.
The creak of the wooden stakes got louder.
‘Maybe we should hurry a bit?’ said Alice, and she and Kit now held both sides of this swaying, wobbly bridge. There was only one long rope from one side to the other for them to stand on. It was like tightrope walking.
They were halfway there now.
‘Keep going,’ said Kit. ‘Just keep looking forward.’
But something odd was happening up ahead. A mild commotion.
The jungle rat had seemed very keen to get away from
them before. But now Alice could see it again. It was panicking, squealing, and pounding at them. It jumped back on the rope bridge and shot past them, scrabbling around them and not even stopping to gnaw at the bridge.
Kit and Alice exchanged a glance. Something must have spooked it. Every instinct they had was telling them to turn around, but . . .
BOMF!
The bridge dropped another few centimetres.
‘Those stakes aren’t going to hold!’ said Kit, stealing a glance at the trembling and straining pieces of wood behind them.
‘RUN!’ said Alice, and the two kids immediately sprinted for the other side . . .
And as they did, the stakes were pulled from the soil by the weight of them, and the bridge began to fall behind them with a CRASH as they LEAPT to the other side and rolled on to the ground in the nick of time.
And then . . .
. . . there was a noise.
18
DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL: 3
There were three of them this time.
POWERFUL.
MUSCULAR.
EMOTIONLESS.
Oh, it was hard to know what these brooding, thunder-like unicorns were thinking, but it was easy to guess.
They were thinking you shouldn’t be here.
They were thinking you need to leave.
They were thinking you will regret this.
The three unicorns stalked around Kit and Alice, towering over the kids and snorting diesel-black fumes into their faces.
‘Uh, maybe we shouldn’t have sent Smasha away,’ said Alice, trying to put on her Angel Face to show how totally unthreatening she was to unicorns. Sadly, Alice’s Angel Face was generally about as effective as a cardboard snorkel.
‘This is bad,’ said Kit. ‘Three unicorns. A triumvirate. According to legend, unicorns that travel in threes are sent into battle by their leader. The solitary ones are pages, messengers, sentries. But a trio of unicorns . . . that spells trouble.’
‘What are they going to do to us?’ said Alice, hoping the answer might be ‘tickle us’ or ‘treat us to a lovely cup of soup’.
Hamish and the Monster Patrol Page 7
