Hamish and the Neverpeople

by Danny Wallace

  The two kids lifted themselves up through the window and tumbled into a room.

  They were safe!

  Until the moment, of course, that they realised they weren’t.

  There was the smell, for a start.

  A Terrible smell.

  Then there was the drool coating the floor, slickery and slimy, and nearly three centimetres thick.

  There were the snarls and breaths and grunts.

  And there were the boots, standing in the goo.

  Two shiny black boots, directly in front of Hamish’s face.

  ‘GOT YOU!’ said Axel Scarmarsh, grabbing both children by the scruff of their neck, and, as he yanked them up to eye level, Hamish could not believe his eyes.

  The Battle of Buck House

  Hamish Ellerby was struggling to take it all in.’

  He had met Axel Scarmarsh before.

  ‘YOU!’ said Hamish, as a drooling Terrible tied him to a chair and double-checked the knots. ‘But . . . but why?!’

  ‘Why what?’ said Scarmarsh, scowling. ‘Why am I doing it? Or why was I pretending to be . . .’ He smiled and paused theatrically. ‘MYSTERIO?’

  It was him! The Prime Minister’s ‘adviser’!

  The accent was gone, and with it the strange purple suit.

  Hamish now realised exactly why the army had never turned up to take back the Tower. He’d trusted Mysterio to pass on the message when the very person he was trusting was the person he was trying to topple!

  Hamish felt worse than ever. Now it was undeniable: it was his fault Alice had been zapped!

  As the Terribles stalked round him, Hamish’s mind raced.

  It all made perfect sense now.

  Who’d been right there when the Prime Minister had been zapped?

  MYSTERIO.

  Who’d invited Hamish to London straight after it happened?

  MYSTERIO.

  How had the Terribles known that Hamish was on Otherearth?

  MYSTERIO.

  ‘Being Mysterio got me right to the heart of power,’ said Scarmarsh. ‘Ten Downing Street. Right next to that silly old duffer of a PM. I knew all the comings and goings of all the most important people in the country. I had complete access! And I could rob you of the one thing you people seem to think is important!’

  ‘Chocolate?’ said Holly.

  ‘Ego!’ said Scarmarsh. ‘Once I show the world that I can rob even royalty of their personalities, everybody else in the world will do everything in their power not to have it happen to them. The world will fall to me! And there’ll be nothing a pair of kids can do about it!’

  Hamish couldn’t understand why Scarmarsh had let him come so close.

  ‘If you wanted to zap me,’ said Hamish, ‘why didn’t you do it when you first saw me in Downing Street?’

  ‘With all those journalists around?’ scoffed Scarmarsh. ‘No, no – too obvious. And, of course, I think you may be missing the point.’

  Hamish frowned. What other reason could there be?

  ‘I didn’t want to zap you,’ smiled Scarmarsh. ‘I wanted you to come to Otherearth. I wanted you and Holly together. Why do you think I left the Prime Minister’s diary open? I led you to Arcadian Lane!’

  ‘I don’t understand!’ said Holly, but Hamish was starting to.

  ‘You were using us,’ said Hamish.

  ‘Yes. You and your little friends. I wanted you here, Hamish. I wanted you to cause a fuss. I wanted word to spread. I’ve been waiting, Hamish. I let you find out I was behind the zapping. You thought you were coming here to save the King and the world – but really you were coming here to be captured.’

  ‘You won’t get away with this!’ said Holly.

  ‘Brave words, Holly,’ smiled Scarmarsh. ‘I’m so pleased you found that copy of Evil Icon magazine. The one with all the clues . . .’

  He smiled and Holly realised what he meant.

  ‘You put that there for me to find?’ said Holly, the blood draining from her face.

  ‘Do you really think Evil Icons have time to give interviews to made-up magazines? And didn’t you think it was a little “convenient” that none of my Hypnobots spotted you when you were standing right in front of them?’

  Holly bristled. If her arms hadn’t been tied up, she’d definitely have got her RevengePad out.

  ‘If you didn’t want to zap us, then why did you zap Alice?’ said Hamish. ‘She was my friend!’

  ‘Our friend,’ said Holly, sadly. ‘Our good friend.’

  ‘To give you a reason to fight,’ said Scarmarsh. ‘To make you angry. You were giving up and I wanted you here.’

  ‘Why?’ said Hamish. ‘Why did you want to capture us?’

  ‘Because you’re bait,’ said Scarmarsh. ‘That’s all you’ve been since the beginning. A little worm dangling in the river to catch a fish.’

  Hamish didn’t understand. Scarmarsh leaned down until he was just centimetres from Hamish’s face. He was going to relish this.

  ‘What is more likely to bring a father out of hiding, Hamish,’ he said, with a stomach-churning smile, ‘than the misguided belief that he can save his son?’

  The words hung in the air.

  Oh, no. It was all so clear now. Scarmarsh wanted to trap Hamish because what he was really after was Hamish’s dad! He thought if he had Hamish then his dad – Belasko’s Agent of the Year – would be forced to come to the rescue.

  How could I have been so stupid? wondered Hamish. He’d endangered his best friends and now he was endangering his dad. He felt dreadful.

  And then furious.

  Furious at the world as much as he was furious at himself.

  He pulled at his constraints, but they’d been tied too tight, and a Terrible HUR-HUUUURed a raspy chuckle.

  ‘Just because you zap a few people doesn’t mean you’ll scare the rest of us into doing everything you say!’ said Holly. ‘We’ll rise up against you!’

  ‘Oh, sweet Holly, nice try,’ said Scarmarsh, slicking her hair down with his clammy palm. ‘But, as soon as your mother and Hamish’s father are out of the way, there will be nothing to stop me from moving . . . to the Next Step!’

  Oh, no. Elliot had been right, that day back in his war room! There’s always one final, secret next step!

  ‘Zapping the leaders was just the beginning,’ said Scarmarsh. ‘Eventually, I will zap every single person on the planet. Because once I’ve zapped you all . . . I can make you do anything I like!’

  Pah! Rubbish! thought Hamish.

  ‘No you can’t!’ he said. ‘Everyone just walks around like halfwits! What use are they?’

  Scarmarsh smiled his creepiest smile yet.

  ‘Why do you think I call my metal friends “Hypnobots”?’ he said. ‘Once someone has been blanked, they are mine to control! Watch!’

  Scarmarsh stepped over to a giant screen on wheels. It was massive. Hamish could only see the back of it until Scarmarsh spun it round.

  On the screen was a picture of everyone in Downing Street. They were sitting at the Prime Minister’s big table, staring blankly.

  ‘HYPNOBOTS!’ yelled Scarmarsh. ‘MAKE OUR DOWNING STREET DUNCES DANCE LIKE CHICKENS!’

  The Hypnobots in the Post Office Tower all raised their arms. Their eyes began to flash and spin. A rising hum got louder and LOUDER and LOUDER . . .

  The lights in Downing Street started to flash and fizz. Immediately, every single person, including the Prime Minister, stood up and danced like a chicken!

  But a really weird chicken. One with constipation.

  ‘NEXT!’ shouted Scarmarsh, and now there was a shot of a packed Piccadilly Circus. Blank-eyed men and women stood still and aimless. ‘MAKE THOSE PICCADILLY PEA-KNUCKLES ALL SLAP THEIR OWN BOTTOMS!’

  The HUM got louder still . . . Hamish could feel his fillings vibrating.

  And then everybody in the whole of Piccadilly Circus began furiously slapping their own bottoms. Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap! The sound of bottom-slapping bo
unced right the way round London, and has there ever been a more horrible sound than that?

  The camera zoomed out, and out, and out, until all you could see – all over London – were people slapping their own bottoms!

  Football teams in stadiums slapping their own bottoms!

  Army regiments in fields slapping their own bottoms!

  Teachers in the staffroom slapping their own bottoms!

  The slap of bottoms seemed to get louder as Hamish’s mind raced and struggled to take it all in. The Hypnobots began to chant and clank. Hamish’s world closed in on him. Scarmarsh was all-powerful! He’d be able to make the whole human race do whatever he pleased!

  ‘My dad will not come here,’ said Hamish, defiantly. ‘He won’t fall for your trick!’

  ‘And nor will my mum,’ said Holly, trying to free her hands. ‘She’s too smart for you.’

  ‘They are smart,’ laughed Scarmarsh. ‘Belasko’s top agents are the only ones who could have stopped me. But they were too scared. Those pathetic clowns went into hiding the moment they found out what I was doing. And why? Because they thought it might keep you safe!’

  Hamish took some comfort in that. If Scarmarsh was right, then Hamish’s dad had gone out of love, not fear.

  ‘But now I have you both exactly where I want you,’ said Scarmarsh, in a low and frightening voice, ‘oh, I’m sure they’ll show their faces . . . and I get to zap the King. I really am a genius. NEXT!’

  Now Buckingham Palace was on the screen – and it was chaos.

  There were Terribles everywhere. I mean everywhere.

  From north, south, east and west they’d come, following Scarmarsh’s detailed instructions, and bounding towards Buckingham Palace to get the King.

  Now they were clambering over the gates, thundering and slathering across the courtyard like mad dogs.

  One scampered up a long stone column at the front of the Palace, cracking every window as it did so, so it might rip the Union Jill from its flagpole.

  Down below, roaring, fearsome Terribles dressed as milkmen hurled steaming black bottles of blilk and charged at the gates with their shoulders. Those on the inside tried to slap the King’s guards out of the way, these tall, brave women in bearskin hats and bright red coats doing their best to keep the beasts at bay.

  ‘I’d zap them,’ said Scarmarsh, shrugging and enjoying himself, ‘but their chinstraps deflect the beams.’

  More Terribles – postmen, bakers, nurses and builders – poured into the courtyard. More soldiers ran to meet them. This was insania!

  By the front doors of the Palace, Hamish could see Leona’s taxi now skidding to a halt. A cloud of dust blew up behind it. His friends jumped out – Elliot, Venk, Clover, Colin, Elaine and Violet. Alice and Alan stayed in the back, blank-eyed and staring.

  But where were Grenville and Greta?

  Then he spotted them. Grenville was on Greta’s enormous shoulders as she charged at the Terribles and tried to belly-bump them out of the way. Grenville was using the buns in her hair to steer!

  ‘Get the King inside!’ yelled Venk, as a group of soldiers ran to surround a baffled and terrified King Les, who still had his crown round his neck.

  He was nearly at the door – nearly to safety – when disaster struck!

  From left, right, in front and behind, an especially fuming group of extra-nasty Terribles gathered.

  And behind them . . .

  CLUNK.

  CLANK.

  KLAB-ANK!

  A giant, enormous Hypnobot towered over everyone, its eyes whizzing and whirring!

  It was so much bigger than any of the ones they’d seen before. It seemed to be made up of dozens of smaller Hypnobots, all joined together by their rivets!

  It was an Ultima-Hypnobot!

  A group of frightened soldiers on horseback tried to charge at this horrible, dreadful battle robot. It saw them coming and emitted the loudest, most ear-jangling, nerve-trampling, muscle-pummelling, eye-watering, bottom-tightening . . . . . . sound you’ve ever heard!

  It was so loud and high-pitched you could probably hear it in China! Even if you had headphones! And no ears!

  The horses bolted, and the soldiers that remained fell to their knees, clutching their heads!

  Hamish could see that the King and the kids were surrounded.

  His guards were plucked out of the way or batted to the ground by the screeching Hypnobot, some tossed across the courtyard like rag dolls.

  It was too powerful!

  Next to it, the Terribles – grunting, snurtling, huffling – were about to take off the King’s crown.

  ‘Looks like I’d better warm up the zapper,’ said Scarmarsh, delighted, and signalling for it to happen.

  Outside the Tower, a giant satellite dish began to creak round . . .

  But the Terribles were having trouble getting the King’s crown off. It was wedged round his ears. They picked him up and tried to shake him loose. They tugged and prised and tugged some more, they stretched and they pressed, but it just wasn’t budging.

  And then one of them did the worst thing possible.

  With one hand, it held a giant nostril shut and then it blew its own snot into its other hand!

  It clapped its hands together and spread the messy gloop around, then slathered it over the King’s head!

  It was trying to slide the crown off and it had nearly done it!

  But then . . .

  ‘Who’s that?’ said Scarmarsh, pointing, and getting very agitated about something indeed. ‘IS IT THEM?’

  A car was speeding into the courtyard, a long trail of orange dust in its wake.

  It was roaring and zooming and now it was skidding.

  Hamish’s eyes widened and his heart nearly leapt out of his mouth.

  It was a Vauxhall Vectra!

  They’re Here!

  ‘THE SECRET PLAN HAS WORKED! THEY’RE HERE!’ screamed Scarmarsh, running to the screen. ‘GET ME THE BUTTON! I WANT TO ZAP THE KING AND THEN ZAP THE AGENTS MYSELF!’

  The Terribles bounded away to fetch their master’s portable button.

  ‘I’m sorry you’re going to have to watch me do this, kids,’ said Scarmarsh, but, from the look on his face, he wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

  Hamish looked at the screen again.

  The doors of the Vauxhall Vectra sprang open and out jumped two figures, dressed from head to toe in black.

  Hamish’s heart swelled.

  ‘It’s Dad!’ he said, and a wave of delight and hope and love rushed through his body. ‘It’s really him!’

  ‘Mum!’ said Holly, a smile spreading across her face as she saw the figure standing with Hamish’s dad.

  Hamish realised he didn’t think he’d actually seen Holly smile before. But his pleasure was short-lived. His dad was in real danger and didn’t even know it!

  Down below, in front of Buckingham Palace, Hamish’s dad and Holly’s mum set immediately to work.

  Oh, they were magnificent!

  Hamish’s dad whistled and once again the six ravens of the Tower of London took flight, circling the Hypnobot and blocking its line of sight. The enormous metal beast swung its huge arms at the birds, but missed. It stumbled backwards slightly, losing its footing.

  The soldiers saw what was happening and were filled with bravery again, standing up to continue the battle. One of them charged at the Hypnobot with a battering ram, knocking it to the ground with a KERBLUUUUNK.

  Hamish’s dad pulled out something from his jacket. It looked like a tiny hand-held satellite dish with two bright blue batteries on the back.

  ‘What’s that?’ said Holly, but she didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

  ZAP!

  Hamish’s dad began to blast the Terribles who were surrounding the King.

  Immediately, they went all blank-eyed and wobbly, like their legs had gone all soupy.

  ZAP!

  He blanked another one.

  ‘He’s using Scarmarsh’s te
chnology against him!’ said Hamish.

  The Terribles burst back into the room, followed by a fearsome Hypnobot pushing a little trolley. There was a big green button on top.

  ‘BRING IT HERE, HYPNOBOT!’ creamed Scarmarsh, moving to the window, where he could clearly see Buckingham Palace. ‘NOW I WILL ZAP THEM! LINE UP THE SATELLITE!’

  Scarmarsh and the Terribles pressed themselves up against the window, enjoying every moment of this. Scarmarsh felt for the button, and rested one sweaty palm on top, waiting for the right moment to strike.

  Hamish tugged at the ropes around him. He had to stop Scarmarsh from zapping his dad! But he was totally, utterly stuck! Say what you like about the Terribles, but they were absolutely terrific at tying knots.

  Hamish wanted to cry. How was he going to get out of this one?

  ‘H!’ came a whisper from somewhere to his left.

  It was Buster! Bella was holding open the door and keeping an eye out.

  ‘What are you doing up here?’ whispered Hamish. ‘Run!’

  ‘Not without you!’ said Buster.

  ‘How did you escape?’ whispered Holly, eyes wide. ‘We saw you – you were all tied up like us!’

  ‘We had a little help,’ said Buster, quickly freeing them. ‘A little help from your friend.’

  ‘GET READY TO ZAP!’ shouted Scarmarsh into a radio, shaking with glee. ‘HYPNOBOT – MAXIMUM POWER; PLEASE!’

  At least he said please.

  ‘My friend?’ said Hamish.

  Buster smiled and pointed.

  Hamish looked out of the window. Right there, right by the satellite dish as it warmed up and began to pulsate, look who it was!

  ‘NOOOO!’ souted Scarmarsh.

  Alex stood on another window cleaner’s cradle, her hands on her hips, defiantly. How did she always know where to be? Hamish felt his wrist vibrate again and looked at The Explorer. The hands were all pointing at Alex, like she was a magnet or something. That was it! Alex had said she had a special way of ‘watching’ him. The Explorer must have a tracker inside.

  But what was she doing out there?

  ‘IT’S TOO LATE, NUMBER ONE!’ said Scarmarsh.