Hamish and the Neverpeople

by Danny Wallace

  Well, thought Holly, he doesn’t seem very useful. He seems . . . mild-mannered. Like he thinks about things, instead of acting on them.

  This was not a time for thought. It was a time for action! ‘And who’s this?’ said Holly, gesturing at Alice, and scowling under her hood.

  ‘I’m Alice Shepherd, actually,’ said Alice, a little offended. ‘Founding member of the Starkley PDF.’

  ‘Ha!’ said Holly. ‘Alex filled me in. You lot think you had it hard with a bunch of silly WorldStoppers! Small-town stuff. Well, you ain’t seen nothing yet.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ said Alice, who was not taking to this girl at all.

  ‘Yes, really,’ said Holly, taking a step towards her. ‘If I were you, Alice Shepherd, I’d turn around and run back to Starkley.’

  ‘Is that right?’ said Alice, now taking a step towards Holly and going a bit red. ‘Only I thought we were here because you needed our help?’

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Alex, snapping her phone shut and stepping in just as the two girls were almost nose to nose. ‘I have to get back to base. I’ve just heard that Mortimer Ribbons has been zapped.’

  ‘The newsreader?!’ said Holly.

  ‘Apparently, he went on TV and started crying because no one would buy him a pony,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He’s sixty-three.’

  ‘Then go,’ said Holly. ‘I’ll tell these two what I’ve found so far.’

  ‘Wait!’ said Hamish. ‘What about my dad? You know where he is, don’t you? Is he in London?’

  Alex hesitated. Was this the right thing to do, to leave them here? Her phone beeped again.

  ‘I’ll be in touch,’ she said, starting to run.

  Holly looked at the others suspiciously for a moment.

  ‘Okay – here we go . . .’

  She brought out a ring binder from her bag marked

  HOLLY’S IMPORTANT FINDINGS.

  PAGE 1

  Here is what we know.

  A person might be walking along, completely innocently, and then ZAP! They go blank.

  Hamish turned the page.

  But there wasn’t anything there.

  ‘Where’s the rest of it?’ he said.

  ‘That’s all there is,’ said Holly.

  ‘Ha!’ said Alice. ‘Those are your important findings? That’s it? We already know that!’

  ‘Right!’ said Holly. ‘You’re going in the book.’

  She whipped out a small black book marked ‘REVENGEPAD’.

  ‘What’s a RevengePad?’ asked Alice, laughing.

  ‘Anyone who annoys me or is rude to me in any way goes straight in the RevengePad until I can work out a suitable revenge,’ said Holly, scribbling Alice’s name into the book that seemed to contain thousands of others. ‘Once you’re in the book, there’s no way out. Not unless I have my revenge!’

  ‘That doesn’t seem very . . .’ Hamish started, but Holly stared at him with her pen in her hand and he thought better of it.

  He looked over her shoulder as she scribbled furiously, adding Alice’s name and crime to the list.

  SNIPE GLOOM, age 11

  DREADFUL CRIME: Borrowed a quid off me for a can of Tango. Never saw him again.

  POTENTIAL REVENGE: Put clingfilm over his toilet just before he needs to go.

  LITTLE TOMMY BOTTOMS, age 9

  DREADFUL CRIME: Giggled when I tripped on a pen.

  Potential Revenge: Wrap up every single one of his toys in tinfoil.

  SCARPER RADISH, age 10

  Dreadful Crime: Did not say ‘bless you’ when I sneezed.

  Potential Revenge: I will sneeze in her ear and not cover my mouth.

  ‘What is wrong with you?!’ said Hamish, involuntarily.

  ‘And anyway,’ said Holly, putting the RevengePad back in her bag, ‘that wasn’t all my findings. It was all I had time to write down because I’ve been so busy exacting my revenge on people.’

  ‘Well, what else do you know about these zappings?’ asked Alice.

  ‘I know who’s behind them,’ said Holly, looking up into the air mysteriously. ‘And his name . . . is Scarmarsh.’

  EVIL ICONS MAGAZINE VOL XX ISSUE X

  EVIL ICONS #437

  Say Hello to ‘Scarmarsh’!

  by Windermere Van Grunt

  Just who is Axel Scarmarsh, the newest bad boy on the scene?

  ‘I like to think I’m just like any other evil icon,’ says the evil icon, looking particularly evil and icon-like. ‘Except just a little bit more evil and icon-like.’

  Scarmarsh shot to global evil fame just two short years ago when he created an underground lair on the Scandinavian island of FRYKT.

  ‘It was a place for me to relax and try new things,’ he explains. ‘Somewhere I could be myself. Which is incredibly evil and icon-like.’

  Of course, we all know what that led to – the development of his own super-breed of terrifying monsters, the Terribles!

  ‘The Global Evil Community was very excited when I unveiled the Terribles at the press conference in Magaluf,’ he says. ‘Particularly when I told them we were able to tunnel all the way from FRYKT to the coastline of Britain, where we found a tiny island near the insignificant town of Starkley.’

  Why did he use a tunnel?

  ‘Terribles aren’t particularly fond of water,’ he explains. ‘It gets in their crevices and dampens their tusks. I’m working on it.’

  His plans for Starkley, however, didn’t quite work out the way he’d hoped.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about that,’ he says, waving the question away. ‘I’d rather concentrate on my future plans.’

  These include a few modifications to the Terribles that he’s keeping under wraps for now.

  ‘Let’s just say that as I look out over the world from on high, plans are afoot; he says. ‘I enjoy playing with time and space, and, since the whole WorldStoppers project, I have discovered a new and far more . . . targeted way to get things done.’

  Can he give us any clues?

  ‘I’m afraid not. But remember, sometimes the “opposite” is true . . .’ he says, mysteriously, and then laughs his trademark evil laugh.

  ‘Put it this way – I plan to teach the world a ROYAL lesson! One the whole world will see at once! Only THEN will Scarmarsh be CROWNED the NEW AND RIGHTFUL LEADER OFTHE WORLD!’

  LATEST FROM FRYKT

  ‘Watch Out’ for Hypnobots! p.16

  THE EYES HAVE IT

  Belasko technology stolen! p.11

  DRINK BLILK

  It’s not good for you, but it’s cheap. p.76

  EVIL ICONS MAGAZINE VOL XX ISSUE X

  ‘So it’s him?’ said Hamish, appalled. ‘It’s this Scarmarsh guy? He’s the one zapping people and turning them blank? Where did you find this?’

  Holly folded up the photocopied magazine article and put it back in her bag.

  ‘The British Library. There’s a hidden vault at the back. Alex gave me the code. I’ve been casing the joint for days.’

  Hamish was amazed at how confident Holly seemed with all this. He wouldn’t know the first thing about casing a joint. He’d feel very awkward doing that, he decided, in case someone came up and asked him what he was doing and he had to reply, ‘Oh, just casing a joint.’ And the only library he knew much about was the one in school. He certainly didn’t know that the British Library keeps a copy of almost every single book, newspaper and magazine published in the country. And not just this country. There are 150 million items in there – some of them more than 3000 years old!

  And right at the back, down a staircase, and then another staircase, is a statuette of the Earth. Look very closely and you’ll see a Belasko logo just above Portugal. Lift that statuette up and there’s a panel. Type in the right code and . . .

  ‘The wall slides away,’ said Holly ‘And inside is every copy of every underground, secret-society newspaper, newsletter and magazine that has ever been published . . . including Evil Icon magazine.’


  ‘So Scarmarsh was responsible for the WorldStoppers,’ said Alice. ‘He’s some kind of evil inventor?’

  ‘Some say he’s a scientist. Others that he’s a Duke. When the WorldStoppers failed in their mission, Scarmarsh fled to Otherearth to hide among the Neverpeople and continue his work.’

  ‘What kind of work?’ asked Hamish, hoping she might say ‘gardening’ or ‘setting up a small dating website’.

  ‘Evil work,’ she replied. ‘He once developed a shrink ray that could shrink anything! He shrank down two Ferraris so that he could stand on them and then used them as high-powered roller skates!’

  ‘That’s pretty cool!’ said Hamish, and both Holly and Alice punched him on the arm because apparently that wasn’t cool, that was dastardly.

  But, even though they’d done precisely the same thing for precisely the same reason, Alice and Holly now fumed at each other.

  ‘Don’t punch Hamish,’ said Alice, put out. ‘He’s my best friend!’

  ‘Don’t you punch Hamish!’ replied Holly, angrily. ‘He’s half me!’

  They really weren’t getting on.

  ‘But what does Scarmarsh mean,’ said Hamish, trying to change the subject and avoid a fight, ‘when he says he wants to teach the world a royal lesson? One the whole world will see?’

  ‘Think about it,’ said Holly, putting her hands on her hips. ‘So far he’s been zapping Prime Ministers, politicians, pop stars and anyone who’s famous or has power . . . and who is even more famous than the Prime Minister?’

  Hamish racked his brains. Beyonce?

  Wait!

  ‘Royalty!’ he said. ‘He wants to zap royalty! That’s his royal lesson!’

  ‘I think he wants to zap our King,’ said Holly. ‘And that means he can get your Queen at the same time.’

  ‘But why hasn’t he done it already?’ asked Alice. ‘Surely, if he could zap the Prime Minister, he could have zapped the King?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Holly. ‘All I know is King Les is due to appear in public tomorrow night at 6 p.m. to make an important speech, and if Scarmarsh says he wants the whole world to see then my guess would be that’s when he’ll strike . . .’

  The Isle of Dogs

  Well, well, well. How about that! Told you that you were going to be reading about things that could make your feet fall off! Bet you wished you’d stopped reading earlier, don’t you?

  No?

  Well, if you’re so brave, then let’s crack on!

  ‘I still don’t know what this has to do with my dad,’ said Hamish, as the three of them jumped on a red London bus away from the station, and a plan started to form in Hamish’s mind.

  ‘Same thing it has to do with my mum, I guess,’ said Holly, sadly.

  ‘Oh, of course,’ said Hamish, realising that if Holly was the other half of him then her life would be similar too. ‘So your mum . . .’

  ‘Disappeared,’ said Holly, leaning her head against the window. ‘On Boxing Day.’

  Alice didn’t know what to say. Maybe this was why Holly always seemed so angry.

  ‘Wait,’ said Hamish. ‘Do you think our mum and dad are together somewhere? Maybe they’re in hiding? Maybe Scarmarsh is trying to get them!’

  It made perfect sense. Alex had said Hamish’s dad had knowledge the bad guys wanted, and that he was the only one that could stop them. Hamish stood up, feeling slightly braver, and knowing it was down to him, Alice and Holly to save the King.

  ‘We need reinforcements,’ he said, very forcefully. ‘We need to go back to Starkley and get the PDF!’

  ‘What? No!’ said Holly. ‘We’re supposed to stick together! Alex said!’

  ‘Then come with us!’

  Holly thought about it.

  ‘Our friend Elliot is a genius,’ said Alice. ‘He’ll work out how Scarmarsh is doing this. Clover is a master of disguise. She’ll help us move around without getting zapped. Buster is brilliant with technology – if that’s what Scarmarsh is using, he’ll know just what to do. And Venk . . .’

  ‘Yes?’ said Holly.

  ‘. . . well, I’m sure we can find something for Venk to do.’

  ‘Sounds precisely the opposite of all my pals,’ said Holly.

  ‘And Alice,’ said Hamish. ‘We could really do with your uncle’s help.’

  ‘My uncle?’ said Alice, surprised. ‘Oh, yes, my, um, uncle.’

  ‘You said your Uncle Peter is a policeman in Shaddington.’

  ‘Shaddington?’ said Holly, scrunching up her nose.

  ‘Well, we need to tell him,’ continued Hamish. ‘He’s a policeman so he can help us warn the King! Who else would believe us?’

  ‘Er, thing is . . .’ said Alice. ‘My Uncle Peter . . .’

  ‘Yes?’ said Hamish.

  Alice looked at her friend. And then at Holly, who was smiling at her, but not in a good way. Alice took a deep breath.

  ‘I made him up.’

  ‘You . . . you made him up?’

  ‘Sorry, Hamish. I just knew there was no way your mum would have let you come to London if—’

  Hamish’s eyes widened.

  ‘Mum! Wait – what time is it?’

  He looked at his watch. It was nearly six o’clock!

  ‘We should have been on the way home by now!’ he said, panicking. ‘And instead we’re on a big red bus in a totally different dimension! Mum’ll definitely call the police! Or phone your parents and ask for your Uncle Peter’s phone number and find out you fibbed!’

  He turned to Holly and looked her deep in the eyes.

  ‘Holly – we’ve got to go back now, before my mum goes mad. Are you coming with us to Starkley or are we leaving you behind?’

  ‘Fine,’ said Holly, annoyed. ‘But there’s one of us missing.’

  Hamish counted. No, there were three of them. Hamish wasn’t great at maths, but he was pretty sure on this one.

  ‘Who?’ said Hamish, confused. ‘Who’s missing?’

  Holly smiled, and looked at Alice.

  They were heading for the Isle of Dogs.

  From a distance, this part of London looked very modern. It was surrounded by river, and the top of the huge skyscraper, Canary Wharf, blinked in the darkening sky. But the kids were going further, down to the old factories by the docks.

  Holly didn’t seem at all concerned, but both Hamish and Alice found it all a little eerie. Hamish couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched.

  There seemed to be no one else around, yet strange shapes shifted on the other side of the river. Workmen in orange hard hats with little lights on were digging a hole, while a postman trundled by with a trolley, whistling badly. They all tipped their hats at each other, and somewhere a dog barked.

  ‘Alan Shepherd didn’t feel safe walking around town,’ explained Holly, as she guided them down a barely-lit path.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Alice, sarcastically. ‘This seems far safer.’

  ‘He may be your otherhalf,’ said Holly, ‘but he’s a little nervous about getting zapped. He said he felt more comfortable being indoors, around people he can trust. I suppose if they did zap him, you’d end up even sillier than you are already.’

  At this, Alice took great offence. She turned to face Holly full on.

  ‘Let me tell you something, Hollyollerby. I mean Holl-ololby. I mean Holler-ellarbelly. I mean Holly. If Alan Shepherd is anything like me, he is a survivor. He has many talents. He can think on his feet. He will be fine.’

  Holly made an awkward face.

  ‘He’s really not like you at all,’ she said, and she pointed at a large sign on a factory door behind them.

  THE LONDON YOUTH HEALTH AND SAFETY FUN CLUB

  For particularly safety-conscious children

  NO RUNNING

  NO CLIMBING

  NO SNEEZING

  WEAR YOUR HELMETS

  TUCK YOUR TROUSERS INTO YOUR SOCKS BREATHE INTO THE PALM OF YOUR HANDS TO AVOID THE UNNECESSARY SPREADING OF GERMS

&nb
sp; ‘This place sounds rubbish!’ said Alice.

  ‘Alan’s already been made Executive Vice Chairman,’ said Holly. ‘He only joined this morning. But they won’t give him a badge because badges have pins.’

  ‘What do you do in a Health and Safety fun club?’ asked Hamish, a little befuddled.

  ‘You mainly talk about Health and Safety,’ said Holly. ‘But at a volume considered acceptable according to international safety guidelines.’

  ‘It’s in a bit of a dangerous area for a Health and Safety club!’ said Alice, looking around, just as confused. Bins were knocked over; shopping trollies had been left all over the place; there was glass on the pavements and dog poo everywhere.

  ‘Alan told me there are only three members, and they don’t believe in charging for it because you can be allergic to the metal they put in five-pound notes. This place is all they can afford.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure Alan is just fine,’ replied Alice, defensively. ‘I’m sure he’s a terrific kid who shines in his own way. I’m sure he stands out, makes his presence known. I’m sure he—’

  ‘Hello,’ said a small voice, quite timidly.

  No one had noticed that a smaller boy had been right next to them the whole time. He was rather pale and sickly, with droopy hair and arms that seemed too heavy to lift.

  He was wearing a helmet. Shin guards. Arm protectors.

  He had an American football top on with great big shoulder pads.

  His trousers were tucked into his socks to prevent unnecessary trippage.

  And he had one bright turquoyse aquamarine line through his hair. (His mum put it there so that drivers could see him in the dark. No sense risking it.)

  ‘Have you been out here the whole time?’ said Holly.

  NAME: ALAN ‘MY MIDDLE NAME IS SAFETY’ SHEPHERD