Hamish and the WorldStoppers

by Danny Wallace

  ‘We are too!’ yelled Lola and Darcy.

  ‘And us!’ cried Ed and Rufus.

  ‘And I will help also,’ came one last voice, in an odd, stilted accent, from somewhere near the back.

  Everybody turned to see from where this low and confident statement had come.

  Standing next to Buster was a bulky boy in an ill-fitting T-shirt wearing a bright green Mexican wrestling mask.

  ‘El Gamba is here to helpa!’ shouted Grenville Bile, who hadn’t really cracked his Mexican accent yet.

  ‘What’s the Prawn doing here?’ said Alice, wide-eyed, as Hamish put his hands on his hips. ‘When did he become a Pausewalker?’

  ‘About half an hour ago,’ said Buster. ‘When we were stealing the list from Dr Fussbundler’s, we forgot to check his appointment book. I nipped back and the first thing I saw was Grenville walking out with a brand-new filling. He was already on his way to the sweet shop!’

  ‘Hello?’ came another new voice, as a kid pushed his way through the bracken. ‘What are we doing? What is this, hide-and-seek?’

  It was Robin! He was holding a lollipop from The Tooth Hurts. So he’d been there too!

  ‘Robin!’ yelled Hamish. ‘But I thought your dental hygiene was second to none?’

  Robin blushed.

  ‘I may have exaggerated,’ he said. ‘I’m a little partial to an Austrian Aniseed . . . so what’s all this about?’

  ‘Well,’ said Hamish, looking awkward, ‘I think the answer might shock you a bit.’

  ‘Doubt it,’ said Grenville, shrugging. ‘Not much shocks me.’

  ‘IT PROBABLY WILL,’ said literally everybody else in unison.

  ‘Well, whatever it is, we’re in,’ replied Grenville, slapping Robin on the back, which seemed to really startle him.

  ‘Then we’re ready,’ said Hamish, in his best, most heroic voice, as he looked out over this new group of brave friends and time warriors. ‘Let us begin . . .’

  Training Day

  Hamish wandered around the clearing proudly while the kids set to work.

  They’d filled Grenville and Robin in as gently as they could.

  Grenville had taken it remarkably well.

  And, once he’d stopped fainting and being sick everywhere, Robin even managed to nod once or twice, before being sick and fainting again.

  Grenville had also worked something out, which wasn’t like Grenville at all.

  ‘My mum,’ he said gently. ‘She must have been taken and returned. I want her back to how she was. Before she swapped all my toys for a book about tractors! She used to be good, Hamish. I did too.’

  Hamish was pleased Grenville was here. He’d seen a different side of him lately. And not just his backside. He was even more pleased that Grenville had found a reason to fight. No child deserves to be made to read a book about tractors.

  Not even you.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the Pausewalkers had split into different groups for what Buster called ‘Pause Preparation’ (or PP).

  GROUP A

  Pause Protection Pack Packers

  (or PPPPs)

  Special Duties:

  To collect and distribute necessary supplies for the Pause Protection Packs (or PPPs) including hot sauce and hygiene gel – their Prime Products (or PPs).

  Group Leader: Elliot

  GROUP B

  Pause Poses

  (Or PPs as well)

  Special Duties:

  To learn various poses like ‘laughter’ or ‘happiness’ that can be used during the Pause to trick the Terribles. (Pausewalkers are encouraged to develop their own Personal Primary Pausewalker Pause Pose (known as a PPPPP).)

  Group Leader:

  Buster

  GROUP C

  Pause Physical Prowess Progression

  (PPPP for short, just like the other PPPP, but obviously quite different from the PPs, the PPP and, of course, the PPPPP. I hope you’re making notes.)

  Special Duties:

  Incredible battle techniques and awesome self-defence moves.

  Group Leader:

  There was only one man for the job. Grenville.

  It was vital that every Pausewalker was trained in each. It was no good knowing your PP if you didn’t know your PPP, and if you didn’t know your PPP, then how could we be certain you knew your PPPP or your PPPPP?

  Hamish suddenly needed a pee.

  But first he walked with Alice from group to group, watching them learn. He felt pure pride (or PP).

  The only kid who didn’t seem to be joining in was Dexter. He sat off to one side, staring at the ground, looking a little green around the gills.

  ‘Okay!’ shouted Buster, in front of his small gathering. ‘Let’s say the Pause happens during a “happy” time – I want you to freeze on your best happy faces!’

  All the kids made happy faces and stood perfectly Paused.

  ‘Okay – now let’s say the Pause happens during a period of subtle unrest tinged with sadness and yearning. Give me your best “subtle unrest tinged with sadness and yearning” faces!’

  Next they moved to the PPPP kids learning battle techniques.

  ‘Let’s try the Mexican Foot Stamp one more time,’ shouted Grenville, who was now in his element. ‘And after the Mexican Foot Stamp we’re going to go for the Chinese Tongue Pull! Buster tells me the Terribles have great thick wiry hair on their tongue warts – perfect for grabbing a clump of!’

  As they wandered on, Hamish noticed two small figures standing in the darkness, shadowed by leaves, at the side of the clearing.

  It was Scratch Tuft and Mole Stunk.

  They’d been grounded for days and were holding hands. They seemed nervous to approach. After all, Hamish looked to be in charge and maybe he was still mad at them.

  ‘Come in, girls,’ he said, kindly. ‘You could be handy. In fact, remember that thing you always do where one of you kneels down behind somebody and the other one pushes them over? I need you to teach us that. And also that thing you do where you break wind and then somehow catch it in your hand.’

  The girls smiled, relieved. Either they were happy to be included, or they’d just broken wind again.

  ‘Okay – remember!’ shouted Alice. ‘According to the graph that Mr Bodfish helped us with, the next Pause is due at 3pm today. It should last around twenty-nine minutes and twenty-nine seconds. We need to work fast. We need to work well. Because after today’s Pause there will only be one more before . . .’

  She paused for dramatic effect.

  ‘. . . the Final Event!’

  Everyone knew they had quite some arranging to do. This had to work.

  Because, after all . . . even your future might very well depend on it.

  Fairground Friday

  Hamish and Alice’s plan was simple.

  There were two more Pauses to come.

  They’d use one Pause to prepare.

  And the other to strike.

  They knew what they needed to do. They had to get all the Terribles and their WorldStopper masters in one place at one time.

  And that meant they needed to get all the people of Starkley in one place at one time.

  The Terribles would think they were having the luckiest day ever.

  All the grown-ups? There for the taking? No more running around, slathering about? No more clickety-clacketing on uncomfortable concrete, or fiddling about with locks and windows?

  They would have a field day. They would be able to take whomever they wanted. They’d be able to take everyone, at once, and put this awful boring town behind them – ready for the next stage.

  Then they could hit London. Paris. Rome. Berlin.

  They could move on to New York. Tokyo. Toronto. Moscow. Mumbai.

  They would be ready for Total World Domination!

  And because this Pause would be the longest Pause yet, they’d have all the time in the world . . .

  At least – that’s what they’d think . . . and if it went wrong? If the P
DF had miscalculated?

  Well – disaster.

  ‘We know that at least one Terrible has to keep an eye on the town clock,’ said Alice.

  The PDF were sitting around the small table in the ice-cream van, pointing at the clock on a map of Starkley.

  ‘That’s why there was one on the rollercoaster last night. They think it’s the only accurate clock in town. Little do they know, we’ve got Hamish’s Explorer.’

  Clover and Venk nodded. Buster patted Hamish on the back.

  ‘If we can draw them all away from the clock and stop them seeing it, that means they’ll have no idea how long it is until the Pause is over. We just have to keep them occupied for long enough and hope that our theory is right.’

  Hamish made a confident face. It was important he looked confident.

  ‘So we’re going to keep everybody in one place until the Terribles arrive,’ said Hamish. ‘And Buster – that’s when you’ll attend to the clock.’

  ‘Understood,’ said Buster. ‘But how are we going to get the whole town in one place?’

  The Thursday 3 p.m. Pause was on and everybody had been given a job.

  Every single Pausewalker needed to move fast and with great efficiency while the town and everyone else in it was at a standstill.

  ‘Come on!’ said Hamish, leading the charge into the town square. ‘Let’s go!’

  The kids started to dash all over the place, ready to get to work.

  Except one.

  ‘What’s wrong, Grenville?’ asked Hamish, confused.

  Grenville was staring at something nervously. Hamish followed his eye and understood immediately.

  ‘Those boys,’ he said. ‘The ones that bully you.’

  ‘Stig,’ replied Grenville, quietly. ‘Stig and Bash.’

  Over there, outside the sweet shop, stood the much bigger boys Hamish had seen picking on Grenville that day. The expressions on their frozen faces made it look as if they’d been up to no good just as the Pause happened.

  ‘Well,’ said Hamish, wondering if he should say what he was about to say. ‘You of all people know that Pauses can be used in all sorts of ways . . .’

  Grenville looked at him, confused.

  Meanwhile, round the corner, Scratch and Mole darted into Starkley Library, which was even quieter than usual. They tapped ‘1,000 Copies’ into the keypad on the photocopier. Immediately, the old grey box burst into life, spilling brightly-coloured page after brightly-coloured page onto the floor.

  Scratch picked one up and studied it.

  Hopefully, the mayor would just assume he’d signed off on this and forgotten.

  Outside the library, ten kids sat on their bikes and BMXs, ready to deliver the fliers all over town.

  ‘Batch one!’ screeched Grenville, who was enjoying life as a minor authority figure. ‘Go, go, go!’

  Inside the newsagent’s on the corner, Robin and three other kids were making stickers in the sticker machine. Moments later, they were plastering them on every lapel, lamp post and frozen budgie in Starkley.

  Clover and Venk snuck into Starkley FM – the very boring radio station that only ever talked about how few traffic problems there were and how they weren’t expecting any tomorrow either – and changed all the presenters’ scripts to read:

  ‘And don’t forget – it’s Fairground Friday tomorrow night at the fairground. Get ready for that big announcement! Attendance is mandatory!’

  Then they changed all the records from boring old classical stuff to high-energy European dance pop. If that didn’t get people listening – nothing would!

  They put up posters, they sent out invites, they blew up balloons, they ticked ‘YES I WILL ATTEND’ on people’s computer calendars, they changed the website of the Starkley Post to read:

  FAIRGROUND FRIDAY WILL ROCK!

  And when twenty-nine minutes and twenty-nine seconds were up and the sky flashed above them, Starkley was suddenly awash with bunting and colour.

  As they stood and watched, all Hamish and Alice could hear was a rising excitement in town. Even from the adults who’d been processed into meanies.

  ‘Fairground Friday? It’s about time there was a Fairground Friday!’

  ‘I wonder what the exciting announcement will be.’

  ‘I heard it’s that the judges changed their mind and think Starkley is the most boring town after all!’

  As a car drove by, Hamish could hear its radio blaring.

  ‘And don’t forget – it’s Fairground Friday tomorrow night at the fairground. Get ready for that big announcement. Here’s “Dance Your Legs Off” by Laser Face . . .’

  Hamish smiled.

  The word was out.

  ‘Right,’ said Grenville, suddenly thundering past. ‘I think I’d better run!’

  Everyone looked behind him to see what he was escaping from.

  Standing right there, in the middle of Starkley town square, were Stig and Bash.

  And everyone was laughing at them. Old people, young people, teachers, everyone.

  Why?

  Because Grenville had used the Pause to swap all the clothes they were wearing . . . for two very, very tight and very, very stretched romper suits.

  Yes. Romper suits.

  He’d ‘borrowed’ them from the bag of a lady with a pram, along with a couple of dummies and two little nightcaps.

  Stig now had a teddy under his arm and Bash had a dolly.

  ‘WHAT THE . . . ?!’ shouted Stig, spitting out his dummy. ‘WHY ARE YOU DRESSED AS A MASSIVE BABY?’

  ‘ME?’ shouted Bash, as a crowd began to gather. ‘YOU’RE THE ONE DRESSED AS A MASSIVE BABY!’

  ‘YOU’RE THE MASSIVE BABY!’ yelled Stig.

  ‘NO, YOU’RE THE MASSIVE BABY!’ shouted Bash.

  Stig threw a rattle at Bash. Bash picked it up and threw it back.

  And that was when the fight began.

  ‘BABY FIGHT!’ shouted Madame Cous Cous, bursting out of her shop and rubbing her hands with glee. ‘I BLINKING LOVE A BABY FIGHT!’

  And, as the two giant babies began to wrestle on the ground, the people of Starkley started to chant the words ‘Ba-by Fight! Ba-by Fight!’

  Hamish smiled as he walked away. The plan was starting to come together; he just hoped the PDF could pull this off. So many people were relying on them, whether they knew it or not.

  But now that everyone was coming to Fairground Friday, there was just one part left.

  The scary part.

  Which is when Dexter, the silent boy in the stripy top, ran up and tapped Hamish on the shoulder.

  ‘I think I’ve got something quite important to say,’ he whispered, nervously.

  Well Done, Dexter!

  ‘You saw their lair, Dexter?’ said Hamish, shocked. ‘You’ve been?’

  Dexter was breathing into a paper bag to stop him hyperventilating.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, quietly, between great gulps of air.

  ‘Show us where it is,’ said Alice. ‘On this map.’

  Dexter pointed the finger of one shaking hand to a part of the woods somewhere north of the grey bridge.

  ‘Over the bridge?’ asked Hamish. ‘But no one goes there.’

  ‘Scared?’ said Alice.

  ‘Well . . . yes,’ admitted Hamish. ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘I told you,’ she said. ‘I’m scared of nothing.’

  ‘You seemed a bit scared up that rollercoaster,’ said Venk.

  ‘Shuddup, Venk!’ said Alice. ‘Or I’ll tell everyone you want to be in a boyband!’

  ‘There’s an old stone cottage,’ continued Dexter, doing his best not to stutter with fear. ‘Down by the cliffs.’

  The cliffs? It was dangerous down by the cliffs. The cliffs were all that separated Starkley from the sea.

  ‘It’s almost green with moss,’ said Dexter, ‘but the leaves in the trees around it are all black, like tar, like they’ve been poisoned.’

  ‘How did you find it?’ asked Alice.

&nbs
p; ‘We were going for a walk two weeks ago,’ said Dexter, shivering at the memory. ‘Me and my parents and my older sister. Dad said it seemed to be getting darker and then there was this flash, and suddenly my whole family just stopped walking.’

  ‘Except you?’

  ‘Except me,’ said Dexter. ‘And then I heard them approaching. It sounded like drums or thunder and I didn’t know what to do, so I hid behind a bush . . .’

  Hamish put his hand on Dexter’s shoulder. It was trembling.

  ‘They came from everywhere. Left, right, up, down. They scooped my family up, and after a minute or so I got up and followed all the broken branches and bushes to the creepy old cottage . . .’

  ‘So they live in a cottage?’ said Buster, wrinkling his nose. ‘What – like a grandma? Full of doilies and knitting?’

  ‘They live under the cottage,’ said Dexter, his face almost grey at the memory. ‘You open the front door and there’s nothing but stairs going down. You can see the first one or two, but then it’s just darkness . . . blacker than you can imagine.’

  ‘Did you go down?’ asked Alice, moving closer. ‘Did you walk down the stairs?’

  Dexter looked ashamed.

  ‘I managed the first step. But I knew what was down there. I’d seen them. And what’s worse – I’d seen who was in charge.’

  ‘The WorldStoppers?’ said Hamish. ‘The big ones with the moustaches?’

  ‘Bigger even than them,’ said Dexter. ‘Taller than a bus. Taller than two buses, maybe. He had the biggest hands in the world. They were like claws. And his legs were like trees. I can still hear the sound of him walking, Hamish. This stomp . . . stomp . . . STOMP.’

  The kids all jumped slightly.

  ‘I think I saw the WorldStopper General,’ he said, eyes wide and fearful.

  Alice gulped. There was something even worse than a WorldStopper? There was a WorldStopper General?

  Hamish knew what this meant. The boss was in town to make sure the job got done. That was not good news. But at least now they knew who must be in charge of the Pauses.