Kid Normal and the Final Five

by Greg James

  ‘Carl, do you think you can get this powered up?’ asked Dr Lara Lee. ‘Carefully, mind. You never know what kind of security Knox might have installed.’

  ‘Let me get it set up in the workshop,’ offered Carl, ‘and we’ll take a look at it together.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  Carl rose from the table and shuffled off across the courtyard.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ said Mary’s mum, ‘we have another problem that I think you ought to be aware of.’

  She tipped her chair back and reached around to grab a newspaper. As she flung it on the table in front of them, Murph recognised the headline as one he’d spotted from the Dairy Queen: DANGEROUS FREAK MACHINE DISCOVERED. But now the full front page was visible to him, he felt like a bucket of cold beans had been carefully poured down his spine. Underneath the headline was a large picture of …

  ‘The Banshee,’ gasped Nellie, pulling the paper towards her. Nellie was the pilot of the flying car that Carl had designed and built, and she was fiercely protective of it. Which made the article on the front of the paper rather stressful reading.

  ‘What does it say?’ prompted Billy, looking on anxiously as Nellie’s face drained of all colour. She was shaking her head as her eyes skimmed the words.

  ‘Nellie?’ said Mary, as if trying to wake someone from a nightmare, ‘Nellie! What does it say?’

  Nellie slowly put down the newspaper. ‘It says,’ she told the others from behind curtains of dark hair, ‘that they searched The School and found the Banshee. They say it’s dangerous technology. And they’re going to crush it. Live on TV. Tomorrow.’

  ‘I wanted to show this to you,’ said Mary’s mum seriously, ‘to impress on you how desperate Knox must be to recapture you all.’

  ‘You think it’s a trap?’ said Billy.

  ‘Of course it’s a trap!’ said Mary’s mum, Mary, Murph, Hilda and Nellie at the same time.

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Billy, crestfallen. ‘Yeah, it is kind of trappy, now you mention it.’

  ‘It’s a blatant trap!’ said Mary’s mum. ‘It’s the trappiest trap since Maria von Trapp got all seven von Trapp children together to sing a song called “Do-Re-Mi, It’s Obviously a Trap”.’

  ‘We’re going,’ said Nellie quietly.

  ‘What?’ said Mary’s mum, who had been quite proud of her ‘trap’ line and was hoping for a better reaction.

  ‘I know it’s a trap,’ said Nellie, ‘but we’re going to save the Banshee. We have to.’

  Mary’s mum looked round at Murph. ‘Well, I don’t know what the leader of the Super Zeroes has got to say about that,’ she said confidently.

  Murph looked across the wooden table at Nellie. Quiet, serious, brilliant Nellie. ‘Nellie’s our pilot,’ he told Mrs Baker. ‘She hasn’t steered us wrong yet, not once. The Banshee’s hers. And if she wants it back, well, we’re going to get it back for her. Trap or no trap.’

  A gust of wind through the open window blew Nellie’s hair to one side, and Murph got a fleeting glimpse of a huge, beaming grin, as if winter clouds had been briefly blown aside to reveal the blazing sun behind.

  13

  Impossible: Mission

  Never in his life had Murph imagined that one day he would be trying to break into his own school. Sure, he liked school – but not enough to effect a forced entry. But now, creeping along a muddy lane with high trees on either side, that was exactly what he and his friends were about to do.

  Carl had driven the Lean Mean Dairy Queen as close as he dared. He had dropped them in a street of dull-looking terraced houses at the bottom of the long, steep slope at the back of the grounds of The School. ‘Can’t risk going any further,’ he’d told them. ‘From here on in, you’re on your own. And, by the way …’

  ‘If you’re also going to warn us that it’s a trap,’ said Murph flatly, ‘we know.’

  ‘Of course it’s a trap,’ winked Carl. ‘I was going to say … Go spring that trap! I know you’re a match for whatever that greasy goon’s got in there. You go get the old girl – right, Little Nell?’ Nellie raised a fist in confirmation.

  They had made their way down a muddy alleyway that ran behind the houses, full of overflowing bins and rubbish. Murph craned his neck to look up at the hill. The School really was well hidden. The trees marched away up the slope, completely concealing it from view. At the end of the lane a thick wire fence marked the boundaries of the school grounds, but Murph knew it was overgrown with ivy and not hard to climb over. Beyond the fence the woods thickened, but if they just kept heading upwards they would catch sight of Carl’s outhouses and the playing fields beyond.

  They crept through the woods, dry leaves cracking underfoot. Presently they came to an area where the trees thinned. The ground had levelled out too, and Murph caught a flash of silver through the trunks ahead. It was the large pond that lay in the woods. They were getting closer. He turned to the others, holding a finger to his mouth for silence, before taking another step forward.

  What happened next was entirely unexpected for everyone concerned.

  As Murph’s foot made contact with the ground, the pile of leaves erupted upwards like autumn in reverse, which would be … hang on … nmutua. It’s quite fun to say out loud, that; give it a go. Nmutua. Nmutua. Anyway, on with the story.

  Standing in front of the Zeroes was a very strange figure. It was dressed in scraggly scraps of old sacks. A large ginger beard hung from its bald head, which was coated in dried mud. The patches of skin that were visible between the streaks of dirt were an angry red colour.

  ‘GAAAAAHHH!’ screamed the figure directly into Murph’s face.

  ‘GAAAAAHHH!’ responded Murph in shock, reeling backwards.

  ‘GAAAAAHHH!’ echoed Mary, Hilda and even Nellie. Billy was unable to speak because the shock had made his entire body balloon and he had rolled backwards down the slope like a zorb with ears.

  ‘Shhhh!’ said Mary, collecting herself and remembering they were supposed to be creeping through the woods like wood ninjas. Nobody heard her, though, because everybody else was still shouting ‘GAAAAAHHH!’ at each other. This continued for several seconds, and then – as if by arrangement – the GAAAAAHHH-ing stopped. The mud-caked figure blinked and squinted at them furiously, and at the same second both Mary and Murph realised who it was.

  ‘What the …’ started Mary.

  ‘Flash!’ Murph broke in.

  ‘What?’ quavered Billy, who had regained his normal shape and was toiling up the slope behind them, red-faced and panting.

  ‘It’s Mr Flash!’ explained Mary over her shoulder.

  ‘What are you bunch of blundering banana biscuits doing here?’ roared Mr Flash.

  ‘I think we might ask you the same question, to be honest,’ said Mary matter-of-factly. ‘Why are you covered in mud?’

  ‘And why are you hiding underneath the leaves in the forest like a … giant hedgehog or something?’ added Murph.

  ‘GAAAAAHHH!’ said Billy. ‘It’s Mr Flash! All covered in mud!’

  ‘Yes, Billy,’ soothed Murph. ‘We’ve established that. So … why are you here?’

  Mr Flash scowled at them through his camouflage. ‘I’ve gone to ground, ain’t I?’ he explained, looking theatrically over his shoulder. ‘It’s the breakdown of society.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Mary. ‘Do you mean to say you’ve been living in the woods for the last… five months?’

  ‘Yuss,’ confirmed Mr Flash, ducking down into a combat stance as he heard a bird taking off in the distance. ‘And I’d do five more. And five more after that. And then after that … I’d have to return home to collect some clean pants. But then I’d come back out here for another five months. And thus … the cycle would continue. The circle of life, my friends. The wheel of fortune …’

  ‘Mr Flash,’ interrupted Mary, ‘when did you last actually speak to another human being?’

  ‘Five months ago,’ the teacher replied. ‘It’s been tough, I must admit �
� just me alone out here. Only Captain Conker to talk to. And John of course.’

  ‘Who’s John?’ asked Murph.

  ‘A BADGER,’ answered Mr Flash bluntly.

  ‘And Captain Conker?’

  ‘A conker what I drawed a face on,’ admitted Mr Flash, looking slightly embarrassed.

  Hilda was looking at him rather respectfully. ‘You know all the other Heroes have been mind-controlled or rounded up by Knox?’ she told him. ‘How come they didn’t catch you? You must have come out of the woods to eat, at least.’

  ‘I’m too cunnin’ for that,’ boasted Mr Flash, puffing his chest out. ‘I’ve been surviving on berries.’

  ‘Berries?’ expostulated Hilda.

  ‘Huss,’ said Mr Flash defensively. ‘Berries. Plays merry havoc with the old digestion, I don’t mind telling you. It’s seventeen days since I … yes, well, that’s not relevant.’

  ‘So you’re definitely not mind-controlled?’ said Murph suspiciously.

  ‘Nah!’ scoffed Mr Flash, ‘We don’t have none of that televisual rubbish in my house. Smart telephones, touch pads, all that gimmicky pap. That’s how that twisted oil-monger did it, isn’t it? Cos all you young lot are glued to your screens all the time like a load of … of screen-gluers. Surprised you don’t get a crick in the neck. Cor, I dunno …’

  It wasn’t the first time any of them had been treated to the ‘Young people are on their screens all the time’ conversation. But for the first time, they actually listened to it. Well, to most of it. It can go on for quite a while – sometimes you’ve just got to wait it out.

  ‘… go out and make some real friends,’ Mr Flash was now saying. ‘When I were a lad, we’d go out to play in the fields at dawn, sandwich in a spotted hanky on a stick, jumping off of bales of hay …’

  Like we said, it can go on for a while.

  ‘… none of these social mediums,’ Mr Flash continued. ‘I dunno, liking this and poking that and havin’ a streak. Makes my blood boil, it does. What you youngsters have got to realise is …’

  Murph decided the monologue had gone on quite long enough. ‘So … you escaped when The School was stormed,’ he said politely, hoping to change the subject. ‘And, what, came straight here?’

  Mr Flash went dark purple, like a morose aubergine. A single tear trickled down his cheek before getting lost in the eastern portion of his moustache. ‘I did go ’ome,’ he said in a choked voice. ‘But my mum tried to turn me in! She’d gone round to her friend Enid’s house for tea … I didn’t realise she had one o’ them tellies. And they watched that … that monster do his stupid fireside chat.’ He mangled those last two words furiously as if he was chewing something unbelievably bitter. ‘She comes back ’ome, full of all this nonsense.’ He affected a high-pitched voice: ‘It’s for your own good, Iain … They’ll look after you … You’re just not one of us … There’s something wrong with you.’ He wiped the back of his hand across his face angrily.

  ‘So … you escaped before they came for you?’ said Hilda, who had actually leaned against a tree to listen to the teacher’s story, enthralled.

  ‘YIP,’ confirmed Mr Flash, swallowing. ‘ I GRABBED MY TENT AND HIGH-LEGGED IT OUT HERE.’

  ‘Well, we’re here on a mission,’ said Murph. ‘So if you fancied coming along … afterwards we could take you to Rebellion headquarters? Get you something to eat?’

  ‘There’s a rebellion, is there?’ said Mr Flash, his eyes gleaming in amongst his mud camouflage. ‘Well, well, well. Lead me to them, young Cooper. They must be waiting for some proper Heroes to join them.’

  Murph rolled his eyes as he led the way up the slope and around the pond.

  They hadn’t been expecting to find the Banshee in its normal garage attached to Carl’s workshop, and that lack of expectation was fully met. The large double doors were open, and tyre prints led across the concrete apron and on to the wet playing fields beyond. The flying car must have been driven – or towed – around to the front of The School.

  ‘We’ll go in the back,’ said Murph, ‘work our way towards the front doors, and see what we’re dealing with.’ Together, keeping low, they crept along the edges of the playing fields and towards the school buildings ahead of them.

  If you’ve ever moved house, then driven past your old home, you’ll know what the feeling is like. Someone else has moved in, the curtains are different, and they’ve painted the front door a horrible purple. And to make things worse, they’ve cut down your mum’s prized pampas grass in the front garden and concreted over it. It’s not your home any more. That’s exactly how Murph felt looking at The School. The building where he’d been so happy and felt so welcomed now loomed before them, unwelcoming and sinister.

  Nothing had changed, but everything was completely different. Because this wasn’t their school any more. It was no longer run by the Heroes’ Alliance. It was controlled by Nicholas Knox and full of … who knew? Rogues, for certain. Murph gulped, staring at the blank classroom windows ranged along the back wall. ‘Mr Flash?’ he asked. ‘Could you please go and see if any of the back doors or windows have been left unlocked?’

  ‘ROGER, WILCO, TEN-FOUR FOR A COPY AND TANGO CHARLIE DELTA,’ whispered Mr Flash.

  ‘What?’ whispered Murph back to him.

  ‘I think he means “yes”,’ explained Mary.

  Mr Flash nodded, then launched himself into a commando roll before vanishing as his super-speed activated. They could see a faint pinkish blur move across the back of the building and then, within a couple of seconds, the teacher was back with them.

  ‘All doors, windows and similar vestibules securely locked, sah!’ he told them.

  ‘Right,’ said Murph, ‘we’ll have to do this the hard way.’ He waved his team forward, and they dropped on to their tummies and wiggled through the scraggy, unmown grass of the playing fields towards the back doors.

  ‘This is like being in the army!’ said Hilda excitedly.

  After a few minutes they were up against the redbrick wall.

  ‘Mary, you’re up,’ he instructed. ‘Hoot like an owl if you think you’ve been spotted.’

  ‘Hoo,’ agreed Mary, getting into character. ‘Hilda, you ready?’

  ‘Ready, sah,’ said Hilda smartly. Mr Flash’s military language was catching.

  Mary snapped open her umbrella and grasped Hilda firmly around the middle. They rose gently into the air. Murph looked up, squinting into the sun, and could see Mary pause as she reached wall height, looking this way and that to make sure there was nobody around. After a moment, apparently satisfied they had not been seen, she floated higher and disappeared over the guttering on to the roof.

  Mary and Hilda landed softly on the grey tiles, just beside a large skylight. ‘This is it,’ confirmed Mary. ‘Are you sure they know what to do?’

  Hilda concentrated briefly, and with a neighing pop her two tiny white horses appeared. They cantered around before coming to rest in front of her, tossing their mini manes and regarding her with bright, intelligent eyes. ‘They know what to do,’ Hilda confirmed. The horses nodded.

  ‘Right.’ Mary pulled a ball of string out of the pocket of her raincoat. ‘Let’s lower the horses.’ Hilda tied the end of the string around the middle of the first horse, Artax.

  ‘Now, be careful down there,’ she instructed him as Mary eased open the skylight. ‘Your brother will be down in a moment. Look out for each other.’ Artax gave a small neigh. Hilda picked him up and gently began to lower him down into the room below, which they could now see was a deserted classroom.

  ‘This is just like that film,’ whispered Mary as she watched the dangling horse descend skilfully on its string, legs spread like a spider. Well, half a spider.

  ‘What, there’s a film where they lower a horse on a piece of string?’ asked Hilda.

  ‘No, of course not,’ said Mary. ‘Who would ever make that into a film? Or a TV series for that matter. I just meant it’s like that bit … you know … Never
mind.’

  Hilda’s string went slack, and she peered down to ensure that Artax had made a safe landing on one of the desks. He reached back and pulled at the knot with his tiny teeth so she could raise the string up and lower Epona down too.

  ‘Red one … black one … red one … red one.’

  ‘SNAP!’

  The pair of mind-controlled guards who had been left on duty at the back of The School were not the sharpest tools in the box. If chisels and knives are the sharpest tools, they were very much the small pieces of fluff that can collect in the bottom of a toolbox.

  ‘Black one,’ continued the first guard, dealing another card from the deck on the table between them. ‘Red one …’

  ‘Snap?’

  ‘No! They’ve got to be the same colour. Black one …’

  ‘SNAP!’

  ‘NO! I done a red one last. Black one.’

  ‘Snap!’

  ‘Yeah, you can have that one. Right. Red one, black one, horse …’

  ‘Horse?’

  ‘I thought I just saw a horse. A really, really small horse. It went underneath the table. Hang on, there goes another one!’

  ‘Snap!’

  ‘Shut up! We’re not playing horse snap.’

  ‘Where are my keys?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I left my bunch of school keys just there, on the floor. They’ve gone.’

  There was a jingling, clopping sound, such as a tiny horse might make if it were holding some keys in its mouth. The two guards looked at each other, open-mouthed.

  ‘Well done!’ enthused Hilda, pulling Epona up on the string, the keys tightly clutched between his horsey jaws. He dropped them on the roof tiles and licked her hand delightedly.

  ‘Well done!’ repeated Murph, back at the base of the wall, when Nellie and Mary floated down and dropped the keys into his hand. ‘Right … Let’s roll,’ he told the Zeroes, easing the keys gently into the lock. ‘But stay quiet!’