The Beast of Seabourne

by Rhys A. Jones

  “Out of the way!” Skelton was on his feet and pushing his way through, with Heeps in tow. Everyone was jostling for position by the windows now. Even Oz, who wasn’t particularly squeamish, felt his skin crawl when he finally stuck his head through a gap and looked out into the yard.

  There were rats. Dozens of them. However, they weren’t scurrying to holes in the walls or down drains. These rats were wandering about, looking slightly confused as they stopped to listen or sat up on their back legs to sniff the air.

  “My God,” Skelton said, and whipped an astonished face around to look at Niko, who was still standing at the front with his transducer in his hands. “Do you mean to tell me…” he began, but quickly ran out of steam. “Is this… Are you…”

  “Make them go away!” wailed Tracy Roper, who had clambered up to stand on her chair.

  “Extraordinary,” Heeps said, sounding very impressed.

  “They’re disgusting,” Sandra Ojo said with feeling.

  “They’re coming closer and there’s more coming from the field. Look.” Jenks was pointing to the far end of the bus bay.

  “Having proved his point very well,” Heeps said smoothly, “perhaps we could ask young Mr Piotrowski to now get rid of them?”

  “Can you?” asked Skelton. “Make them go away, I mean?”

  Niko nodded and adjusted the instrument. Once again, he put it to his lips and blew his silent note. Outside, the rats stopped, turned almost as one, and this time ran for their boltholes. The class broke into spontaneous applause, which lasted a good five minutes and redoubled once everyone got back to their places. Niko stood in the front without smiling. If anything, he looked even more self-conscious.

  “Wow,” Ruff whispered to Ellie under the applause, “Niko’s the Pied Piper of Seabourne.”

  “That thing of his is amazing,” Ellie said.

  Finally, the applause died down, and Niko found his way back to his seat. Several of his fellow students clapped him on the back as he passed them.

  “Well, after that amazing display, it’s now the turn of the Penwurt Profs and their water cycle model.”

  Nervously, Oz lifted the Perspex box with shaky hands and carried it to the front of the classroom. Niko was going to be a hard act to follow, but he felt quietly confident as he took off the cover. He went into his brief explanation of the water cycle and came to the interesting bit. “No one has been able to build a working scale model. Until now.”

  Oz flicked the switch. “It should take about seventy seconds,” he said to the assembled watchers. Oz sent Ellie and Ruff a confident grin.

  By thirty seconds, steam was coming off the water, and by fifty, it was rolling forwards towards the clay mountain. By sixty-five seconds, Oz was ready for the climax, but at eighty, he was getting worried. By ninety, steam almost filled the box, obscuring Ruff’s sculpted mountain altogether, and, with a sinking heart, Oz knew that something was dreadfully wrong.

  “Is it supposed to be a sauna?” someone asked.

  “Or Jurassic Park?” said someone else. That earned a ripple of laughter.

  Desperately, Oz inspected the wiring. Then he saw it. The wires from the batteries to the cooling unit had been ripped out and folded back to look like they were connected. His stomach plummeted. Sabotage.

  “Wait,” Oz blurted out, knowing he was doing a great impression of a red steam engine from how hot his face was feeling. “Looks like it’s been damaged.”

  “Damaged?” Skelton asked.

  “Someone’s pulled the wires out of the cooling unit,” Oz said hotly.

  “What?” Ruff yelled, jumping to his feet, his eyes flying like arrows towards Skinner and Jenks.

  “You mean, they have become dislodged during transport,” Mr Skelton said, his eyes narrowing.

  “No,” Oz said. “They were screwed in.” Oz sent Skinner and Jenks a scathing look, too. To his surprise, they were not gloating or even enjoying his excruciating moment of humiliation. They seemed preoccupied, whispering something about “humongous tails” and “that brown one was as big as a badger.”

  “Well, you have one minute left to fix it,” Mr Skelton said sternly.

  Oz shook his head. “It’s no good. It’ll take longer than that.” “Oh, well, good effort,” Skelton said, and looked down at his clipboard.

  Silently fuming, his face blotchy with embarrassment, Oz covered up their model and carried it back to the bench. Ellie sat dumbstruck, but Ruff looked as angry as Oz felt.

  “Jenks and Skinner!” Ruff hissed.

  “I’d put money on it usually, but I’m not so sure,” Oz said.

  “What do you mean?’ Ellie asked.

  “Well,” said Oz, “if it was them, you’d have thought that seeing me dying up there would have made their day. But they didn’t even seem to notice. Too excited about the rats.”

  “Then who?”

  Oz shook his head. Mr Skelton was staring at the three of them, his eyes demanding silence.

  “Next are the Stupid Oafs with their Wellington boot remover.”

  The rest of the afternoon dragged on for what felt like forever. No one came near matching Niko’s transducer, and the cobbled-together displays and kitchen-sink contraptions on display seemed all a little bit silly. At last, three-thirty came around, and, after having gone into the prep room to deliberate with Heeps, Skelton emerged and proceeded to the front of the class.

  “Firstly, may I congratulate everyone who took part this afternoon? The presentations were of very high quality, indeed. However, in any competition there can only be one winner. The decision, in the end, was easy. This year’s Seabourne Comprehensive year eight science prize goes to…Niko Piotrowski.”

  Everyone applauded. Even Oz, still smarting from the disaster of their water cycle performance, had to agree that Niko deserved the prize. Oz watched, his brain numb with disappointment and anger, as Lorenzo Heeps made a big show of handing a shiny new laptop to Niko. The two of them posed with Skelton for O’Flynn, who made them shake hands and offer cheddary smiles.

  Then it was over. Everyone packed up, the room filling with the noise of people discussing rats. As they left for their buses, Oz clapped Niko on the back.

  “That transducer thingy is amazing. No wonder you’ve been too busy for football.”

  “Mr Heeps says we might find someone to make it and to sell it,” Niko said, looking a bit surprised by the whole thing as he hurried to his bus to shouts of “Call up some rats for us, Niko!”

  “That’s fantastic,” Ellie said when the three of them were alone. “Imagine being able to buy one of those.”

  “Yeah,” mumbled Ruff, who looked like he’d swallowed a slug and was having great difficulty in joining in the fuss over Niko’s achievement.

  “Cheer up,” Oz said to him. “Look, I know we’ve been nobbled, but Niko’s thing was so brilliant, we may have lost anyway.”

  “We don’t know that for certain, do we?” Ruff said looking like he wanted to spit. “What we do know is that it’s cost us a free ticket on the field trip.”

  “Don’t be such a bad loser,” Ellie said.

  “That’s a good one coming from you, Miss Blue Belt in taekwondo.” Ruff countered.

  “I don’t like losing, but there’s no point sulking. And it’s blue belt with red tag, by the way.”

  Ruff ’s face went a blotchy purple. Oz decided it was best to try and calm things down.

  “We can still go on the trip,” he said. “We’re all in the top twenty in science.”

  “But it won’t be free now, will it?” Ruff argued. His voice had gone up a few notches on the volume dial. Enough to make several heads turn in his direction. “Buzzard Jenks and Skinner. They’re scum.”

  “We still can’t be absolutely sure it was them,” Ellie pointed out.

  “Why are you defending them?” Ruff roared.

  “I’m not,” Ellie snapped. “I’m just stating a fact. We have no proof.”

  “Was I the o
nly one that saw them running from the lab at lunchtime?” Ruff said, breathing heavily.

  “No, but…”

  “Oh, I give up,” Ruff yelled. “Why not start a Jenks and Skinner fan club while you’re at it?” He stormed off towards his bus, leaving Ellie and Oz looking at each other with troubled expressions.

  “What’s the matter with him?” Ellie asked, her cheeks pink.

  “Just disappointed, I expect. He’ll get over it.” “Hmm,” she said, sounding most unconvinced as she and Oz continued towards their buses. They walked in silence for a few yards before Ellie stopped and turned to Oz. “Heeps only had the one laptop with him to give away as a prize, did you notice? I’m sure Skelton said there’d be laptops for everyone who won. I mean, what if we’d won? They would have needed three, wouldn’t they?”

  Oz hadn’t even thought of that. What did it matter now? “Maybe Skelton got it wrong. Or maybe Heeps had heaps more in his car,” Oz said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Maybe,” Ellie said, but then she shook her head as if to rid it of these confusing thoughts and looked to where her bus was waiting. “See you tomorrow at Ballista’s. And don’t be late,” she called over her shoulder as she ran.

  “You’ve got You-Know-Who’s address, then?” he shouted after her.

  “Of course,” Ellie said, throwing him a scornful glare for daring to ask.

  Chapter 4

  The Bear Trap

  The following morning, Oz reached Ballista’s—the trio’s favourite café in the whole of Seabourne—to find Ellie already there, talking to a lovely girl with purple-streaked, platinum-blond hair. In contrast to Ellie’s weekend attire of sweatshirt and jeans, the girl wore tight black trousers and high-heeled ankle boots. She had a tray of six coffees in one hand and three paper bags of Ballista’s food in the other. Although in heels she was a few inches taller than Ellie, there was no doubting the sisterly resemblance.

  “Hi, Macy,” Oz said as they met inside the café entrance. “Hello, gorgeous,” Macy Messenger said with a dazzling smile.

  “You hungry, then?” Oz asked, not fazed in the slightest by her teasing. He’d become used to it over the years.

  Macy grimaced. “I’m on the breakfast run. Half the salon was at a hen party last night at the Bachelorette Bistro, and they’re wrecked. Everyone wants a hot panini and a large double-shot cappuccino. Mega pain.”

  “I like your hair.”

  “Oh, thanks, Oz,” Macy said, sounding pleased. “Did it myself. I’m getting lots of great tips from the girls at Final Cut. You ought to let me do something with yours one day.

  Fancy some highlights?’

  “Uh…no, thanks.”

  “No, you’re right. Don’t need them, do you? Not with it inky black like it is. Goes nicely with those powder-blue eyes. If only you were four years older and not my little sister’s bestest friend.” Macy sighed and batted long, thick eyelashes. “Well, maybe you can try and persuade Ellie to let me do her a makeover. That natural look of hers is so last year.”

  “If you don’t hurry up, your coffee will be cold,” Ellie said through clenched teeth, her eyes like horizontal arrow slits through which flaming darts would emerge to ignite her sister at any moment.

  “All right, all right. Just a suggestion,” Macy said, backing out through the door that Ellie held open for her. “See you, Oz,” she sang, sending him a final dazzling smile as she tottered away.

  “Sorry about that,” Ellie said as Macy disappeared from view.

  “’S okay,” Oz said. “She looks…different out of school.”

  “It’s her Saturday WAG look; big hair, spray-on tan, you know.”

  “Sounds like she’s enjoying it, though.”

  “You know Macy. Now she says she’d be perfectly happy staying here in Seabourne as an apprentice hairdresser doing hair extensions instead of going to Uni.” Ellie shook her head. “Drives my mum crazy. I mean she’s mad not to go now, even if it will cost loads. By the time we go, my dad says it’ll cost two arms and both legs.”

  “What about script?”

  “Exactly. She’ll have to go in at eighteen if she doesn’t go to Uni, and she won’t like that. At least after Uni, you get a choice depending on what your degree’s in. She fancies Air Force because the uniform is blue.” Ellie rolled her eyes.

  “If she goes in at eighteen, it’s a year and a half, and she’ll be Army, I know she will.”

  Oz nodded. They both knew people who had left school and gone straight in to do their “script”—conscription, or compulsory military service. They knew, too, that it was probably the best way to get yourself killed in some desert or the Japanese-Chinese border or Patagonia.

  “Mum told me there was no script when she went to Uni. And all the fees were paid for and you could get a grant for accommodations.”

  “Maybe they’ll stop the script. They’re always talking about it.”

  “Maybe,” Oz said, but somehow he doubted it. There were too many wars in too many countries.

  “Anyway, next week, Macy’s going on a week’s course with a group of year twelves. Means I get the bedroom all to myself for once.” She grinned, looking very pleased.

  Ellie was the middle one of five and was always telling Oz how much she wished she had a room of her own, as he and Ruff each did.

  “What about you, you still fancy going to Uni, then?”

  Oz asked.

  “Totally. I quite like the thought of geography. My dad says it’s one of those things you can do anything with.” She shook her head. “But the way things are going, I don’t see it happening. I just don’t fancy having a huge loan to pay off, and my mum and dad will definitely not be able to afford it.”

  There didn’t seem much to say after that. Oz didn’t dare think about how he and his mother would manage if he ever went to university, so he decided to steer the conversation back to what had triggered it in the first place. “Macy’ll be okay whatever she does, though. She’s really…popular.”

  “With boys, yeah.”

  “I didn’t mean…”

  Ellie put on a quirky smile, batted her eyelashes, and said, “Hello, gorgeous,” in a pretty good Macy imitation.

  Oz, though he laughed, felt his cheeks start to burn.

  “See what I mean?” Ellie said, shaking her head. She turned and threaded her way through the random arrangement of crowded seating to their usual corner table. Oz followed, flopped into a comfortable armchair, and looked around. The place teemed with shoppers. Something catchy but subdued was playing on the sound system. There was a wonderful smell of baked pastry and chocolate and coffee in the air, and it was warm and cosy and just right.

  “Where’s Ruff?” Ellie asked.

  “He texted me to say he’d be a bit late. Said he had to help his dad with gardening stuff.”

  “Seems to be doing that a lot lately,” Ellie observed. “Mum says things have been a bit tight for lots of people since Brocket’s closed down.”

  Oz nodded. Ruff ’s dad had been a maintenance engineer at the car parts factory.

  “Bit tough on Ruff, though,” Oz said, smiling selfconsciously at the rhyme.

  Ellie shaped a fleeting, long-suffering grin before asking, “And Ruff ’s mum doesn’t go out to work, does she?”

  Oz shook his head. “She has a full-time job looking after Ruff and his brother.”

  “Pay is lousy but you get your reward in heaven. Yeah, my mum keeps telling me that, too. So, there’s probably not much spare cash about at the Adams’ house.”

  “So what’s new? None of us are exactly rolling in it, are we?”

  “No,” Ellie mused. “Mum’s always on at me about the paper round she had when she was a kid.” Her voice became a shrill echo of her mother’s. “I used to get up at six every morning.”

  “So does she want you to have a paper round, too?”

  “That’s just it,” Ellie said in a voice loaded with exasperation. “Soon as I suggested I get one,
she went completely bananas.”

  “Why?’

  “Oh, the usual. Never know who’s out there waiting to pounce. Not safe to be out alone on dark mornings, you know.” Ellie shook her head before muttering, “She forgets the taekwondo.”

  It was a tricky one, that. On the one hand, Oz could understand why Ms Messenger felt that way. It would be fine in the spring and summer, but a freezing, pitch-black January morning was a different thing altogether. Yet on the other hand, Oz couldn’t think of anyone more capable of handling herself if the need arose. A little over a year ago, Ellie had knocked out a woman who was trying to brain Oz with a hammer, and had given Skinner a well-deserved cauliflower ear, the size of a gorilla’s paw, in a football match.

  “It’s even worse now that Macy’s got this Saturday job,” Ellie went on with a sigh.

  “But that’s good, isn’t it?” Oz said, not quite sure where Ellie was going with this.

  “No, it’s not. She’s a pain, always wanting to practise on me. I swear I’m going to wake up with a Mohican one of these days, I just know it.”

  “Ah” was all Oz could think of to say as he tried to imagine Ellie bald except for a single central strip like on a Trojan helmet.

  He looked up to see Ruff breezing in through the door. He waved at them from the counter and mimed drinking from a cup with daintily pinched fingers, his eyebrows raised. Ellie and Oz gave him thumbs-up, and Ruff joined the queue to order. A few minutes later, he found his way to their table carrying a tray laden with one enormous cookie, a vanilla latte for Oz, a caramel latte for Ellie, and some water for himself.

  “Not having anything?” Ellie asked as she gave Ruff the money for what he’d bought her.

  “Had two cups of tea and a packet of custard creams with my dad at this woman’s house. Bit full,” Ruff said, but Oz saw him eyeing the cookie hungrily. Oz split it into three and handed the bits round.

  “So, what’s the plan, then?” Ruff asked, taking a huge bite.

  “We were waiting for you,” Ellie said.

  “Bit short of brain power, were we?”

  “Computer power, actually. All we need is your laptop. I emailed you Eldred’s address, remember?”