by Alan Snow
Their guns and ammunition seemed to want to go home.
“Load the cannons!” cried Snatcher. The two members on the platform unstrapped cannonballs, but before they could load them into the cannons found themselves being dragged off the platforms and bouncing across the square, screaming.
“It’s a curse!” cried one of the members.
“Run!” cried another. And they did in all directions.
Across Ratbridge most people were just getting up and might well have been very frightened by the noise of the blunderbusses and cannons, if it were not for the thunder and the fact that they had problems of their own. In every household, objects were coming to life.
Saucepans and cutlery had suddenly decided to stick to walls, and cooking ranges and iron bedsteads were going for walks. Several ladies who had slept in their steel reinforced corsets now found themselves irresistibly drawn to join the saucepans and cutlery. One man who had invested in an expensive set of metal false teeth found himself hanging on as tightly as he could to the kitchen table to avoid being dragged through the house, while outside in the street, dogs with studded collars found themselves sliding through the mud toward the Cheese Hall.
Snatcher looked completely flummoxed.
Snatcher looked completely flummoxed. A cart, riderless bicycles, garden furniture, and several old barrels were all making their way at high speed across the market square. Snatcher looked down at the head of the great rat.
“It’s down to us Framley! Attack!” And Snatcher pointed toward the Town Hall.
The Great One let out an awful moan.
“Come on, my horrid!” Snatcher urged.
But Framley seemed very perturbed, for although his legs were scrabbling on the wet cobbles, he and Snatcher were not moving forward. In fact, they were starting to slip backward.
Inside the lab Arthur and the others listened nervously to the strange noises coming from outside. There seemed to be a pattern. Each started with a distant whizzing or clattering that grew louder very quickly, then stopped suddenly with a thwonk, thud, or similar sound.
“Do you think we’d better go and have a look at what’s happening?” Arthur asked Tom.
“I think we know what’s happening, Arthur. For the time being, I think we’d better stay safely in here. If the metal doesn’t get us, I think there are going to be some very angry people out there,” Tom replied, and then winked.
Snatcher watched the last of the cannonballs break from their lashings and fly off across the square. The rat was picking up speed, despite desperately trying to cling to the cobbles with its claws. There was a horrible scraping and grinding as the armor slid across the market square.
“Oh, my poor horrid!” Snatcher wailed. Framley just let out a mournful whimper.
On the way to the Town Hall, Snatcher had taken what he thought was the most direct route, but he now discovered that there was an even shorter route back—a straight line.
As the armored rat reached the edge of the market square, it was not a street that they met but a cobbler’s shop. Snatcher, seeing what was going to happen, crouched down on the back of the ever-accelerating rat and hung on. The shop, like most of the buildings in Ratbridge, was badly built and put up little opposition.
There was much surprise as a screaming, crouched man on a small railed platform came through the wall and moved rapidly across the room.
With a crash they disappeared through the shop frontage, leaving a large-armored-rat–shaped hole. In the apartment above the shop where the cobbler lived, there was much surprise as a screaming, crouched man on a small railed platform came through the wall, moved rapidly across the room, and went out through the back wall. The Great One then slid across the muddy back garden till it reached the next building and there was another crash.
The armor protected Framley as they smashed through badly built building after badly built building, but Snatcher was getting rather bruised. And all the time they were picking up speed.
Finally with a great deal of splintering and crashing of masonry, Framley broke from the cake shop across the road from the Cheese Hall, shot across the street, and hit the lab wall in a puff of flour and cake crumbs.
The building shook.
“I think someone’s arrived!” Marjorie squeaked. Herbert nearly skipped in joy. Arthur ran down to the floor of the lab. He found a wooden stepladder, placed it below a window near the magnet, and scrambled up. After a few moments he turned and shouted, “It’s Snatcher and the rat! And they look really angry!” Everyone let out a cheer.
“Framley is being squashed by his armor. He could burst at any moment!”
“We’d better keep them there then,” Willbury advised.
Arthur took another look out of the window. “I’m not sure you want to do that!”
“Why not?” Willbury asked.
“Because Framley is being squashed by his armor. He could burst at any moment!”
“Can we reduce the strength of the magnet a bit, Marjorie?” asked Willbury.
Marjorie looked around uncertainly. The stokers were still very enthusiastic, and the generators were spinning faster and faster.
“The circuit is either on or off. The only way we can ease the power is to slow down the generators, and that’s going to take a few minutes, even if we stop stoking the boiler and let off some steam,” she said.
“Try it!” shouted Arthur, looking increasingly worried. “Framley looks like he could blow any second.”
Willbury turned to Marjorie. “Well?”
“We could turn the current off for a few seconds,” Marjorie suggested. “Herbert! Would you lift me up so I can turn off the switch?” Marjorie squeaked.
Marjorie jumped back.
Herbert held her up and she tried to grab it. But the switch was red-hot and Marjorie jumped back.
“Let me try!” shouted Herbert. But he, too, had to pull back from the red-hot switch.
“I can’t! It’s too hot.”
Willbury wrapped a handkerchief around his hand and tried. It was useless . . . . With all the current, the switch had fused solid. He looked at them frantically. “We have to get out of here!” he cried. “An explosion could bring down the rest of the lab.”
Willbury grabbed Marjorie and ran out of the shed, followed by Herbert and Titus, and then he shouted from the top of the stairs.
“Everybody out! Run for your lives! No, no, don’t use the hole in the wall! It’s too close to the rat! Use the door to the entrance hall.”
Willbury, Titus, the stokers, and the boxtrolls all ran for the entrance hall, but as Willbury reached the door, he turned to see Arthur making for the shed.
“Arthur! What are you doing?” he shouted.
“I’ve got to get my wings,” Arthur shouted back.
He took the steps two at a time, grabbed his wings, and hastily strapped them on. Then he grabbed Marjorie’s prototype from the bench and made for the door. As soon as he was outside, he wound the handle on the wings’ motor as fast as he could. He had never wound it as fast in his life.
Willbury called him from the door to the hallway. “Arthur! Arthur!”
Arthur looked up—the last of the underlings and Laundry crew were disappearing out of the door, past Willbury. He adjusted the knob on the front of the box, pressed both buttons, and jumped.
He adjusted the knob on the front of the box, pressed both buttons, and jumped.
The big bang.
chapter 51
THE BIG BANG
The day was not going well for Snatcher.
The day was not going well for Snatcher. His attempt to return himself to his rightful social position seemed to have failed, the members had all run away, he’d been dragged through a number of buildings, and now rain was hitting him from above and small metal objects were hitting him from every other direction. How could things get worse?
Beneath him the iron shell that had protected the giant rat was now looking battered and flimsy. The Gre
at One bulged out around the edges of the armor like a squashed balloon.
Then it happened.
Framley had not eaten since he’d had his last dose of “size,” and even though he was extremely uncomfortable, he felt very hungry. And there on the ground, in the midst of rubble and cake crumbs, was a cream bun. It was not a large cream bun, but it would do until he could get more cheese. He lowered his head, snapped up the bun, and swallowed. What followed was disastrous.
There on the ground, in the midst of rubble and cake crumbs, was a cream bun.
A clap like thunder broke as Framley burst and everything went yellow!
A large cream bun.
Everything went yellow!
Everything was covered in a smooth film of elastic cheese.
chapter 52
SKINNED!
The two mice in the bottle.
Arthur flew straight toward the lab door where Willbury stood waiting. When Willbury was sure Arthur was coming, he turned and ran. Arthur followed.
Just as Arthur was halfway across the entrance hall, he remembered the two mice in the bottle. He swirled around and landed by the door of Snatcher’s suite, ran in, and grabbed the bottle from the table. As he ran back toward the front door, he was hit by a blast from behind.
The blast shot him through the door. Just as he realized the front windows of the inn across the street were approaching him at a blinding speed, someone grabbed him out of the air and pulled him to the ground. Then he felt something thick and very sticky cover him entirely and everything went silent.
Arthur tried to stand up. He seemed to be under some kind of soft-elastic yellow tent. With a slight struggle, he freed his hands, and then with one finger he managed to poke a hole through the yellow skin. He stretched the hole until he could step out of it. Strands of cheese hung from his wings.
With one finger he managed to poke a hole through the yellow skin.
Arthur looked about. He was standing in a shiny yellow street. Everything was covered in the smooth film of cheese. He turned toward where the Cheese Hall had once stood. It was now just a low, shiny yellow mound. The buildings around the Cheese Hall now had yellow frontages but, apart from the bakery, didn’t seem to be damaged.
Then Arthur remembered the others. He looked about on the ground close to where he stood. Odd shapes were wiggling under the cheese skin, and some were just starting to break through the film. Close to where he stood was the form of Willbury, lying flat with outstretched arms. Arthur ran over and started to peel the cheese film away from his friend.
“Willbury . . . Willbury . . . are you all right?” Arthur cried.
A muffled grunting came through the skin. Arthur tore at the cheese and soon had Willbury freed.
Arthur tore at the cheese.
“Thank you, my boy!” Willbury gasped as he tried to disentangle cheese strands from his wig. “We’d better help get everybody else out.” Then he stopped.
“Have you seen Marjorie?”
“No!” replied Arthur. “When did you last see her?”
“I think I let go of her when I grabbed you.”
They looked down at the smooth film that covered the cobbles. Arthur couldn’t see any shape that resembled Marjorie, and then he turned toward the inn. In the middle of the front door was a perfectly formed molding of their friend.
A perfectly formed molding of their friend.
“Look!” cried Arthur, pointing. Willbury ran over to the door and unpeeled her.
She gave a splutter. “I hate cheese!”
Within a few minutes everybody was unpeeled. They all seemed shocked but okay, apart from the boxtrolls. Their boxes were now so damaged by the rain and blast that they were embarrassed to be seen in them.
Arthur then remembered the bottle and ran to where it lay, still under the cheese. He broke through the cheese and saw that the bottle was smashed. Close by, the bodies of the two tiny mice lay on the ground.
“Captain! Quick, over here!” Arthur called. “I think it’s Pickles and Levi!”
The captain rushed over and knelt down.
He picked them up and looked at them very closely.
“You’re right. I would recognize them any size,” said the captain. “But they’re not moving.” He picked them up and looked at them very closely. “They are not quite the right shape though . . . sort of swollen up around the belly and there seem to be strands of cheese around their mouths.” His eyes lit up. “But they’re breathing!”
Levi and Pickles started to move and let out little groans.
“They must have gorged themselves on the cheese while under there,” the captain said, bemused, and then carefully placed them in his pocket.
“What do you think has happened to Snatcher and Framley?” asked Arthur.
“I think we can guess what has happened to Framley,” said Willbury, surveying the cheese. “But you’re right. Where’s Snatcher?”
Willbury led the group over the mound that had once been the Cheese Hall.
Willbury led the group over the mound that had once been the Cheese Hall, toward the place where the back wall of the lab had stood. Pools of water were now collecting on the surface of the cheese. At the far side of the mound they looked fruitlessly for signs of Snatcher.
They were just about to give up when a new noise started. It was a low rumble, and they could feel it under their feet. Beneath the town, the water had been doing its work. The foundations below the Cheese Hall had been almost completely washed away and, combined with the shock from the explosion, it was just too much. The rumbling grew louder and the earth began to shake. Arthur noticed ripples running over the surface of the pools of water.
“Look, Willbury! Look at the water!”
“Look, Willbury! Look at the water!” Everybody turned to stare.
“Quick!” Willbury urged, pulling the boxtrolls back. “Get away from the mound!”
The rumbling grew and the mound began to shake. They all backed even farther away, just as the ground issued a huge cracking noise and the mound suddenly disappeared.
In the same moment, all across the town, the iron plates covering holes to the Underworld were blown high into the air, and in the woods the trotting badgers were shot out of their tunnels and were last seen flying over the next county. Fortunately for the rabbit women, the doors they had constructed to keep the rabbits in were very well built and saved them from the blast.
Then everything was still. Everybody moved forward to look down the hole. It was some twenty or thirty feet deep and lined with the skin of cheese. Water was washing about in the bottom.
“If it were blue, it would look like a swimming pool,” said Kipper.
“Yes!” Tom agreed.
“What’s a swimming pool?” asked Arthur.
Willbury pulled them back from the edge. “Let’s get back to the ship to see if your grandfather and the others are all right. Kipper can show you what a swimming pool is later.”
Then he noticed how forlorn the boxtrolls looked.
“I’m sure we can find a few new boxes, and if not, I shall have you some made!” The boxtrolls beamed; they had never had brand-new boxes.
“It’s all very well for them,” said Marjorie mournfully. “But what about me and the other shrunken creatures?”
“Hang on a minute!” said Arthur, remembering the prototype. He rushed back around the edge of the hole to where it lay under the cheese skin. After a few seconds he managed to break through the skin and retrieved Marjorie’s machine.
Everybody moved forward to look down the hole.
Marjorie squeaked with delight. “Oh, Arthur, thank you; you’ve got my sizer!”
“Where do you suggest we get your size back from?”
Willbury took the sizer from Arthur, gave it a long look, and then frowned. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Marjorie, but where do you suggest we get your size back from, now that Framley is no more?”
Marjorie’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t t
hought of that . . .”
“There must be somewhere to get it from,” said Arthur.
“Maybe,” said Willbury. “We’ll have to think about that.”
As they set off for the ship, the townsfolk arrived to find out what all the commotion was. They formed small, puzzled groups, gawping at the newly decorated hole and buildings. The underlings had been through so much that now even Titus held his cabbage up in a very uncabbagehead way and walked straight past them.
What nobody noticed was that high above, just under the gables of the bakery, was what looked like a ship’s figurehead of a very angry man wearing a top hat. The figurehead started to slide slowly down the wall.
The figurehead started to slide slowly down the wall.
She swooped down to meet them.
chapter 53
REPAIRING THE DAMAGE
They saw Mildred flying toward them.
Weary and covered with bits of sticky cheese, but feeling proud and relieved, the group headed for the Laundry. The rain stopped and they saw Mildred flying toward them. She swooped down to meet them, circling a few feet above their heads.
“What’s happened?” she cawed. “We heard an explosion!”
The boxtrolls bounced excitedly, and Willbury told her that they’d got Marjorie, Levi, and Pickles back and they had stopped Snatcher.
“Wonderful! Is everybody all right?” asked Mildred.
“I think so!” said Kipper. “Well, Marjorie, Levi, and Pickles are still little . . .”
“And Framley blew up!” added Arthur.
