‘Ah, here you are,’ said the fat one who, judging by the way he was wiping flakes of greasy pastry from his moustache, had just finished a sausage roll. ‘Let’s get you back to the hospital all safe and sound, shall we?’
At the sight of the police, Otto yelled out, ‘Betrayed!’ and made a bolt for the garage window. He managed to unlatch it and crawl halfway out before the thin policeman reached him and began to drag him back inside.
Then Otto’s body went rigid. A new kind of sound came out of his throat, a sort of high-pitched keening. ‘They’re here,’ he cried. ‘Here. Here.’
‘That’s right, we’re here,’ said the policeman who was tugging at him. ‘And we’re taking you back where you belong.’
‘NOT YOU!’ said Otto, his voice now a trembling falsetto. His face was ghastly in the dim light. He pointed out of the window, towards the graveyard that backed onto Melvyn’s garden. ‘THEM.’
CHAPTER 29
THEM?
AFTER THAT, OTTO collapsed limply. Drooling and mumbling, he allowed himself to be led away by the policemen.
Alexander looked around at the FREAKs. What he saw in their faces was closer to disgust than anger.
‘So,’ said Titch, ‘all this stuff about aliens came from him?’
‘Yes.’
‘And those manky old pants?’
Alexander nodded.
‘Right then,’ Titch continued in a business-like manner. ‘The first thing to do is make sure no one at school ever finds out about this. None of us would ever live it down. Do you all swear never to mention a word of this fiasco to another living soul?’
Everyone mumbled their assent – even Alexander, who had no more fight left in him.
It was hopeless. Alexander flopped down heavily on the chair and put his head in his hands. He’d never felt so low. How could he have deceived himself? How could he have thought that there was anything special about him or those stupid pants or his crazy uncle?
‘Great, I’m off,’ said Tortoise Boy. ‘Cedric’s had enough of this rubbish, haven’t you, little fellow? I’m taking the short cut through the churchyard. Anyone else coming?’
‘Bit creepy in there, isn’t it?’ said Felicity.
‘Only if you’re a wuss.’
Jamie, still holding the plastic ray gun, had moved over to the window. He was firing it vaguely out into the darkness, slaying imaginary attackers. But now he paused with the weapon dangling at his side.
‘Them,’ he said in a most un-Jamie-like way. ‘Baddies.’
‘What did you say, Jamie?’ asked Melvyn.
‘Look – them,’ said Jamie, gazing out of the window. ‘Sneaky sneaky.’
‘It’s nothing, Jamie,’ said Melvyn kindly. ‘Alexander’s poor uncle didn’t really see anything out there. He’s not well. There aren’t any ghosts in that graveyard.’
Alexander joined them at the window. The light spilling from the house provided some illumination, but it failed to reach the far end, which was lost in the gloom.
‘Can’t see much out there,’ he said. And yet he felt a spider of apprehension crawl down his spine. ‘Where did you see the baddies, Jamie?’ he asked.
Jamie pointed towards the thick line of hedge at the back of the garden. Beyond it lay the big graveyard.
Alexander peered into the darkness. ‘We’d be able to see better if it was darker in here. Hit the lights, someone.’
‘Hit them yourself,’ said Really Annoying Girl. There was an unspoken subtext: You’re not the leader now, so do your own dirty work.
‘I’ll do it,’ said Felicity.
When the light flicked off, the garden suddenly became clearer. Except that the area by the hedge still seemed oddly dense and vague, like something half remembered from a dream.
Or nightmare.
‘Hurts,’ said Jamie, and Alexander knew what he meant. Looking at the area of darkness was giving him a headache.
‘Weird,’ said Melvyn.
‘Look, we’re all going home,’ said Tortoise Boy. ‘And you can stop pretending that there’s something there, because we all know there’s nothing, and you’re just trying to freak us out ’cos you’re sick.’
Alexander looked round at them. No one met his eye, not even fierce little Titch. He sensed that they pitied him.
‘I really don’t think you should go the back way,’ he said. ‘Otto saw something. So did Jamie.’
‘Sure,’ said Titch.
Then he, Tortoise Boy, The Hurricane and Really Annoying Girl headed for the door.
‘With a bit of luck we’ll get home in time for Britain’s Got Talent,’ Tortoise Boy was saying. ‘I was thinking about putting Cedric up for it next year.’
‘You two coming?’ Titch said over his shoulder to Felicity and Jamie.
‘My mum coming for me in a car,’ said Jamie.
Felicity looked at Alexander, as if she expected him to say something. But he had nothing to say.
‘Wait for me,’ she said, and left with the others.
Alexander looked for them out of the window, his eyes straining through the gloom. And then something leaped up in front of the window, making him scream.
It was Tortoise Boy.
‘Ha ha,’ he laughed, holding Cedric up to the window. ‘Frightened them, didn’t we, boy?’
‘Idiot,’ tutted Alexander.
He watched as they strolled towards the gap in the hedge at the back of the garden. Whatever weirdness he and Jamie had detected there was gone now. There was nothing but the scruffy end of a garden, and a hedge with a gap in it leading into the old churchyard. Tortoise Boy was at the back of the group. As the others were going through, he stopped and bent to tie a loose shoelace. Then, like the others, he was gone.
It was suddenly very quiet in the garage. Even Jamie looked subdued.
‘I’m going inside,’ said Melvyn. ‘Jamie, you come and wait for your mum with me. You can have some more lemonade.’
‘Don’t want any now,’ Jamie replied. He looked close to tears. ‘Are we not going to play superheroes any more?’
‘No, Jamie,’ said Alexander. ‘I think we’ve finished that game.’
‘Do you want to come in and wait with us?’ said Melvyn.
‘No, I’ll just go home.’
Alexander and Melvyn looked at each other silently for a few seconds.
‘It was fun while it lasted,’ said Melvyn eventually.
‘Yeah, I guess.’
Jamie ran over and gave him a hug. Then Melvyn and Jamie were gone. Alexander put the stupid ray guns back in their even more stupid case, and then threw it in the corner.
It was a pretty dismal walk home, with humiliation, depression and loneliness all battling for the top spot in his brain.
CHAPTER 30
THE BORGIA ASSAULT SQUAD REPORT 1
Report
THE FOLLOWING ENCODED smellograph was sent from the Borgia assault squad to the Communications Officer on the mothership: Lavender, thyme, dead pigeon, cat pee, cat pee, bat pee, sausage roll, lavender, rubber, burned rubber, rubber, spring onion, basil, weasel vomit, used dental floss.
Or: ‘As instructed, we established contact with the surveillance operative and set up base in the quiet area identified as a disposal zone for dead humans. This area surrounded a large fortress with a defensive tower. However, the fortress appears to be abandoned, and we set up our holding unit in the basement area of the building. Following standard Borgia procedure, we have foraged for food in the local ecosystem. The dead humans are placed underground in boxes constructed from the organic life forms known as “trees”. Trees are not edible by the Borgia. Some humans inside the containers were fresh. Some were not. The freshest humans were sweet and juicy. Those left longer to mature had a stronger flavour, with nutty undertones, which we appreciated. Some of the humans had turned into a wet mush which could either be slurped neat or mopped up using another mammalian species, such as those known by Earth sounds “fox” and “squirrel”. However, many of
the storage units contained only the calcium-rich human internal scaffolding, which provided little nourishment or eating pleasure.
‘The cloaking device is working well, although as it functions only to dampen energy emissions in the visual spectrum, those Earth creatures with an efficient sense of smell are able to detect our presence.
‘Turning to the mission, so far we have captured and encased in storage drones five of the so-called superheroes. They blundered into our midst as if they positively wished to be consumed. Surprise was complete and they put up an ineffective resistance. It would appear that individually and without their leader, they present little threat. The Earthlings are physically puny, and their weapons are of no significance.
‘Unfortunately, the Earth scientific genius known as OTTO evaded our attempts to capture him. He obtained the aid of a number of Earth security personnel, and he may now be beyond our reach.
‘The combat leader of the group and three of the other warriors also remain at liberty. However, I am confident that they will be tracked and captured before this planet completes another rotation about its axis.
‘I, Under-general Tuuuuurdo Slm, sign off with fidelity.
‘Death to all enemies and potential light suppers of the Borgia!’
CHAPTER 31
THE MISSING
ALEXANDER’S ALARM CLOCK went off at seven thirty the next morning. The clock was shaped like a duck, and it made an electronic quacking noise to get you out of bed. Alexander reckoned that if you drew a graph of all the most irritating things in the world, and then a graph of the most embarrassing things in the world, the point at which the two lines met would be his duck clock.
As usual, he’d been in the middle of a dream in which he was being chased by monsters. But on this occasion there was a complication, in that he also seemed to be chasing something or someone else. He was a bit worried in case what he was chasing was Felicity. Did that mean that he was a monster in her dream? Did the chain go on for ever, each person both the terrified victim and terrifying pursuer?
And then he remembered that he had something much worse to cope with than dream monsters. He had to go to school. He had to see his . . . could he even call them friends any more? Melvyn, perhaps. Yes, Melvyn would still talk to him. But not the other FREAKs. They’d shun him, and he couldn’t even blame them for it. And without backup, he would once again be the prey of Big Mac and his goons.
And it was all the fault of his mad uncle and those stupid underpants. Well, their time was up. They were headed for the great laundry in the sky. But he couldn’t just dump them in the bin in the kitchen – his mum might find them and then he’d be up to his neck in impossible explanations. No, they’d have to go into a skip or wheelie bin on the way to school.
He pulled on his school clothes. It didn’t take long as his shirt was still inside his jumper, the tie loose, but in place, under the collar.
‘You all right, love?’ his mum asked as they were having breakfast. He mumbled something and carried on staring at the cornflake packet in front of him. And then, with a quick and general ‘See you later,’ he was gone.
He dragged his feet, trying to put off for as long as possible the gruesome moment when he would arrive at school. It meant he was going to be late, but he didn’t care. Or, rather, being late was well down the list of things to care about. A couple of times he approached a bin, ready to dump the pants, but there was always someone around, and he was too embarrassed to get them out in public. He resigned himself to being stuck with the pants all day, like one of those bogeys you can’t get off your finger. Another chance to be humiliated.
He sneaked quietly into his class for morning registration.
Not quietly enough.
‘Thanks for joining us, Alexander,’ said Mr Conway, taking out the register and putting a tick to replace the cross by Alexander’s name. Melvyn, who sat in the row in front of Alexander, turned round and gave him a weak smile.
Alexander wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was Melvyn’s feeble attempt at a smile worse than no smile at all? Was Melvyn perhaps indicating that he and the others had all met up earlier on and had a formal debate followed by a vote, the outcome of which was that he was officially declared a doofus?
Alexander groaned and laid his forehead down on his desk.
After the bell he got up and began to make his way slowly to the first lesson – chemistry with the unnaturally tall Mr Harrison. Normally, the chance to make bad smells and maybe wee into a test tube would have cheered him up, but not today. Today he had to face the world utterly alone. Then he realized that Melvyn was walking beside him.
‘Hi,’ said Melvyn.
‘Hi,’ said Alexander.
And suddenly it was OK. Alexander knew that Melvyn was still his mate, and so he could confront the world after all. They chatted together on the stairs and didn’t once mention aliens or underpants or crazy uncles being dragged to the nut house. Life was back to normal.
‘Have you seen the rest of them?’ he asked Melvyn.
‘Just Jamie. The others weren’t in the playground this morning.’
Alexander felt that prickle of unease again. ‘I wonder where they are?’
But by then they were in the chemistry room and Mr Harrison was asking them to please shut the heck up.
At lunch time they went and found Jamie, who was sitting by himself on a concrete bench in the playground. There was still no sign of the others.
‘I’m a bit worried,’ said Alexander.
That was understating it. His sense of unease had grown into a hard lump the size of Big Mac’s fist in his guts.
‘Maybe they’re all skiving off together,’ said Melvyn. He looked disappointed that they hadn’t asked him to join them.
‘No,’ said Jamie, in a matter-of-fact sort of way. ‘Baddies got them.’
‘What do you mean, Jamie?’
‘The ones in the garden last night. Creepy creepy in the dark.’
Melvyn and Alexander looked at each other.
‘Jamie, can I borrow your mobile?’ Alexander asked.
There was a ‘no mobiles’ policy in the school, but Jamie was allowed to have one because he was special.
‘OK.’
Alexander looked in the address book. ‘There’s only one number here, Jamie.’
‘That’s my mum.’
‘Do you know any of their numbers, Mel?’
‘I think so – Felicity’s is . . .’
Alexander keyed in Felicity’s number. ‘It’s gone straight to voicemail,’ he began, and then switched to his talking-to-Felicity voice, as it was time for his message. ‘Oh, hi, Felicity. Hope you’re OK. Can you give me a call on, er . . . Jamie, what’s this number? Oh, you’ll have it, won’t you? Just call me back on this number. It’s not urgent. Well, it’s quite urgent if you’ve been . . . but then, if you have, I don’t suppose you’ll be able to call me back. So, er, well, catch you later. I hope.’
‘Smooth,’ said Melvyn.
‘This isn’t funny,’ replied Alexander. ‘Do you know any other numbers?’
Melvyn remembered Titch’s. Again the phone went straight to voicemail. Alexander didn’t leave a message.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ he said. ‘Jamie, please, tell me again what you think you saw last night.’
Jamie creased his brow and concentrated so hard his eyes went slightly crossed.
‘Mmmmm . . . sort of funny shapes. Gave me a headache to look. Couldn’t really see them because they were hiding. Not hiding – sort of invisibling. But I could still see them through the invisible.’
‘How do you know they were baddies, Jamie?’
‘Just ’cos they were nasty. And now they got Felicity and Tiny Titch and Tortoise Boy and Cedric and farty bum and shouty girl, and everyone except you, me and Melly.’
CHAPTER 32
THE SEARCHERS
‘RIGHT,’ SAID ALEXANDER. ‘We’re going to go and find them.’
&
nbsp; ‘Yeah, yeah!’ said Jamie.
‘But we don’t know where they are!’ Melvyn protested. ‘And we can’t just leave school, can we?’
Only sixth formers were allowed to leave the school at lunch time.
‘These are special circumstances,’ said Alexander. ‘It’s not like we’re just sneaking off to the chip shop.’
‘Chiiiiiiiiips,’ said Jamie.
‘We can get some on the way.’
‘But,’ Melvyn persisted, ‘we don’t even know that anything’s wrong. Just because Jamie thinks he saw something—’
‘Did see!’ said Jamie, offended.
‘OK, fine, but then we should tell the police. Or try their parents, at least.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Alexander sarcastically, ‘they’ll believe us, won’t they?’
‘You’ve got a point.’
‘So let’s just see what we can find. It’ll be an adventure.’
Reluctantly Melvyn agreed, although he still shook his head at the craziness of it all.
Escaping from school wasn’t particularly difficult. The main exit was watched over by a scary lady called Zelda, who was rumoured to be allowed five minutes with any child she captured, during which time she could Do With Them As She Pleased. However, there was a place where the wire netting of the perimeter fence was loose, and you could squiggle and squirm underneath it, as long as you didn’t mind the fact that it would probably rip a hole in the seat of your trousers.
So ten minutes later they were leaning against a wall, eating chips.
‘Where do we start?’ asked Melvyn. ‘I mean, we can’t just wander around, hoping to blunder into them, can we?’
Alexander was stumped. He hadn’t really thought about what their next move should be.
Then he felt something: a sort of stirring in his brain.
He thought about the story of the hero Odysseus being sung to by the beautiful Sirens, luring him irresistibly onto their rocks. And what he felt was exactly like that. Except instead of beautiful-yet-deadly maidens, it was a pair of mangy old underpants that were singing to him, and instead of rocks, glory awaited.
‘Hold these,’ he said, handing Jamie his chips.
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