Charlie Turns Into a T-Rex

by Sam Copeland

  ‘Well,’ said Charlie, ‘there’s only one way to find out.’

  Charlie strode out of the lift, and the others quickly followed. With each step Charlie took on the marble floor, his shoes squelched and squeaked.

  ‘Charlie!’ hissed Flora. ‘Your shoes are very noisy!’

  ‘There’s not much I can do about that,’ snapped Charlie. ‘They appear to be soaked in wee FOR SOME REASON.’

  Nobody had anything to say to that.

  At the end of the long corridor there was a large grey door.

  ‘I think this might be it,’ said Wogan, squinting at the damp map.

  He pushed the door and they all piled in.

  The door led to a small platform, which hung over a vast room. Inside the room were hundreds, possibly thousands, of chickens.

  They stared silently at the four interlopers. Countless unblinking eyes glinted coldly. The friends stared back.

  A few low, threatening clucks echoed around the chamber.

  ‘I think,’ whispered Wogan, ‘this might be the wrong room.’

  They edged backwards out of the room, never taking their eyes off the staring chickens for a second.

  Wogan quietly shut the door behind them.

  ‘We shall never talk of that room again,’ said Mohsen, his face pale.

  They all murmured in agreement, and then ran down the corridor opposite until they arrived at another door, a huge wooden one with a gleaming brass nameplate that said:

  MR VAN DER GRUYNE

  PRESIDENT

  VAN DER GRUYNE INDUSTRIES

  KNOCK THREE TIMES

  DO NOT ENTER UNLESS YOU ARE

  A VERY IMPORTANT PERSON

  ‘This is it,’ said Wogan. He lifted his fist up to the door and knocked slowly three times.

  ‘Why are you knocking?’ asked Flora.

  ‘Because it says to!’ replied Wogan, pointing at the nameplate. ‘Flora, you really need to get your head in the game.’

  Silence greeted the knock.

  ‘I don’t think there’s anybody in there!’ whispered Mohsen urgently. ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘We go in!’ Flora said, and pulled the brass handle. The door opened silently.

  Flora, Mohsen and Wogan padded quietly into the room, followed by Charlie, who squelched noisily into the room, each step leaving a yellow footprint on the thick cream carpet.

  There was a huge mahogany desk in the centre of the room with a computer on it. The walls were lined with old leather-bound books. There were no chairs in the room except the one behind the desk – clearly visitors to Mr Van der Gruyne’s office were expected to stand. An antique globe, all wood and brass, stood in one corner. There was one thing missing, though. There was no safe.

  ‘There’s no safe,’ said Mohsen, repeating what the narrator had just said.

  Maybe there’s a safe hidden somewhere, thought the narrator.

  ‘Maybe there’s a safe hidden somewhere,’ said Flora, as if reading the thoughts of the narrator. Get out of my head, Flora.

  The four started searching. About three seconds later, they stopped searching as there was nowhere else to look.

  ‘That’s it then. We’re stuffed,’ said Wogan. ‘It’s not here. Now what do we do, search every room in the building? That could take days.’

  As Wogan spoke, he leaned one hand against the globe. It immediately spun, and he slipped forward, his fingers jamming between the globe and the frame. At that moment Mohsen, Flora and Charlie all heard a tiny sound.

  ‘What was that clicking noise?’ asked Flora.

  ‘I think that was my finger breaking,’ whimpered Wogan.

  ‘No, it wasn’t that,’ said Flora. ‘It sounded like it came from behind these books.’ Flora went over to the shelf and started pulling books off. ‘Maybe there’s something hidden here. A lever or something,’ she continued.

  ‘Hello!’ called Wogan. ‘My fingers are still stuck in the globe! Could one of you give me a hand here?’

  ‘Look! Up there!’ Mohsen pointed at a book on the top shelf, which stuck out further than the others. ‘Maybe the globe triggered some sort of mechanism and pushed that book out. Come on, give me a hand up.’

  ‘My fingers really are actually quite sore,’ said Wogan, still attached to the globe.

  Charlie rushed over to Mohsen, and gave him a leg-up.

  Mohsen pulled the book free. ‘There’s a button behind it!’

  ‘Well, press it!’

  Mohsen pressed the button and immediately a whirring, vibrating thrum filled the room.

  The globe suddenly started moving across the floor as if pulled by some unseen force.

  Wogan yelped. ‘It’s got me, it’s got me! It won’t let me go!’

  Charlie and Flora rushed over to Wogan and started pulling on his hand. After some serious tugging, he broke free, and all three fell backwards. The globe had stopped moving, but where it had been a trapdoor was now revealed. And there was something coming up through it.

  It was a slowly rising platform, and on top of the platform was a great black metal box.

  It was the safe.

  ‘It’s the safe!’ said Mohsen, once again repeating exactly what the increasingly frustrated narrator had JUST said.

  The four circled the safe, examining it. It looked heavy, and very old. There was a dial on it, and a solid slightly rusty iron handle. Charlie tried the handle. It was locked.

  ‘I guess it was worth a go,’ Charlie said with a rueful smile.

  Mohsen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘OK, so we found it, but how do we open it?’

  ‘Charlie, now’s your time. We need you to change,’ said Flora, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Flora!’ Charlie shouted, knocking the hand off his shoulder on to the floor. ‘Seriously, that thing is just creepy. Please just stick it in the bin.’

  ‘Flora’s right, Charlie,’ said Mohsen. ‘We can’t open the safe on our own. We need animal strength.’

  Charlie swallowed. ‘OK. I’ll try.’

  ‘Oh, you’ll do more than try,’ came a sudden voice. ‘You will change. Or else.’

  The friends swung round. Standing behind them was the last person on earth they wanted to see.

  Dylan.

  He fixed them with a grin dripping with such malevolence it seemed to make the whole room go darker.

  ‘Fools! I’ve been following you the whole time! You’ve been – Hang on, why does it smell of wee in here?’

  ‘Do NOT ask,’ warned Wogan.

  ‘Seriously. Don’t,’ agreed Mohsen.

  Dylan saw the looks of fear on their faces, and sensibly heeded their warning. ‘OK,’ he continued. ‘Anyway. So, as I was saying … I’ve been following you the whole time! And you have walked right into my trap. Welcome to my cobweb, spiders!’

  ‘We’re spiders?’ asked Wogan. ‘In a cobweb? Isn’t that a good thing?’

  Dylan frowned. ‘No! It’s not! I’m a big spider! And you’re smaller spiders. And I’m going to eat you!’

  Mohsen turned to Wogan. ‘He should have just called us flies. That would have made much more sense.’

  ‘Yes, he’s clutching at straws with the whole big-spider-eating-small-spiders thing.’

  ‘Shut up!’ screamed Dylan.

  Wogan, Flora, Charlie and Mohsen’s jaws all dropped.

  ‘Dylan,’ said Flora, steel in her voice. ‘Now THAT was rude. There is no excuse for just telling someone to shut up. It’s incredibly bad manners.’

  Dylan looked shamefaced and mumbled ‘sorry’ to the floor.

  ‘Apology accepted,’ said Flora. ‘Do carry on. What were you going to say anyway, Dylan?’

  Dylan looked like he had quite lost his train of thought.

  ‘Ermm … I’ve done “it’s a trap” … then “cobweb and spiders” … Ah! Ah, yes! I know where I was. The big reveal! So, I’ve been watching you the whole time! Who do you think told the guards to leave the gate wide open? Who do you think turn
ed off the alarm? And who do you think stopped the lift just for the pleasure of making you squirm? It was me! Me! And you’ve been my … my … puppets! Yes, puppets! Puppets works, doesn’t it?’

  Everybody nodded.

  ‘Yup!’

  ‘That actually works.’

  ‘Good metaphor.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Dylan with a proud smile. ‘So here’s what’s going to happen next, losers. You’re caught in my trap. And now, Charlie, you’re going to change. Right here and right now. And I’m going to record it and use it to become famous. So start changing. Or else.’

  Charlie puffed his chest up. ‘Or else what?’

  ‘Or else this.’

  With a flourish Dylan produced a key from his pocket. He waggled it at Charlie, then swung round and locked the door, then pocketed the key again. From his other pocket he produced a mobile phone.

  ‘Now,’ he continued, ‘you’re all locked in here. So, Charlie McGuffin, you either change or I call the police and tell them how I caught you in my dad’s office trying to open his safe. What’s the punishment for attempted burglary? Definitely jail. And all your friends will be arrested too, McGuffin. They’ll probably go to jail as well. So – it’s your choice. You either change into something or I call the police and drop you and your friends into more trouble than you ever dreamed of. So, what’s it to be?’

  ‘Don’t listen to him, Charlie,’ said Flora. ‘We don’t care. We’re doing the right thing, and I’m proud. Let him call the police.’

  ‘That’s right!’ said Wogan. ‘Don’t change! That’ll wipe the smug face off his face.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Mohsen. ‘Bog off, Dylan, you big bargle-faced snarf-wangler.’

  Everybody gasped. And rightfully so, because that was quite some brutal insulting from Mohsen.

  ‘Thanks, guys,’ said Charlie, turning to his friends. ‘But Dylan already knows what I’m going to choose. I can’t get you guys in trouble.’

  ‘But we don’t care!’ said Wogan.

  ‘Honestly, Charlie!’ said Flora. ‘You’d do it for us!’

  ‘I would, that’s right. And every one of you, if you were in my position, would do what I’m about to do so the others don’t get into trouble. That’s why I’m going to do it. I’m going to change.’

  Mohsen gasped. ‘No, Charlie,’ he said. ‘Please don’t!’

  ‘It’s too late. Stand back, guys. Here I go.’

  ‘OK,’ said Dylan, raising his phone. ‘I’m recording. Off you go, freak-boy.’

  ‘You don’t have to do this, Charlie!’ cried Flora.

  ‘I do, Flora. I do.’ Charlie gave Flora the slightest wink to try to show he wasn’t bothered.

  But he was.

  This was it. Not only had Dylan won, but his own plan had failed. They had come so close to getting back his dad’s gold, but he had messed it up. He was useless. His parents were going to lose their house and Charlie was going to lose his friends. And who knew what would happen to him when Dylan revealed the video to the world.

  Everything had gone wrong.

  But at least he could get one thing right and stop his friends from getting into trouble.

  Charlie closed his eyes.

  All his fears flooded into him.

  All the misery and the anguish and the anxiety began to worm in his stomach, transforming into an electrical fire that tore through his brain, every breath he took crackling with static.

  Something, though, suddenly felt different.

  This time, the fire in him felt completely out of control.

  He was being overwhelmed by the power surging through him, almost as if all the energy in the universe was tearing his very atoms apart.

  Charlie looked at Flora, eyes filled with panic, and was able to utter a single desperate word.

  ‘Run!’

  It wasn’t the word ‘Run!’ that frightened Flora, or the way Charlie had said it – it was the look of real terror in Charlie’s eyes.

  ‘Come on!’ she cried. ‘We have to go! NOW!’

  She ran to the door and pulled on the handle, but it was still locked.

  ‘Dylan! Unlock the door,’ she shouted.

  ‘Not a chance!’ said Dylan, pointing his phone straight at Charlie.

  ‘Dylan!’

  ‘No! No way am I missing this!’

  Charlie was desperately battling to slow his change down to give his friends time to escape. He was doing everything he could, trying to breathe slowly and remembering all the good things in his life. But as soon as he thought of any happy thoughts they blew away from him like the last leaves of autumn. The storm inside him was raging.

  ‘Dylan, if you don’t open this door we could all get very badly hurt! Please,’ Flora begged.

  ‘Yeah, nice try,’ Dylan replied.

  Flora strode right up to Dylan and went nose to nose with him. She started speaking very quietly. ‘Dylan. If you don’t open this door immediately, I will be forced to punch you. And then kick you. I don’t want to, but I will. And if you have any doubts that I’ll do it, look into my eyes. Look deep into my eyes. Can you see it? That’s right. That’s your doom you see there, Dylan Van der Gruyne.

  NOW. OPEN. THIS. DOOR.’

  Dylan swallowed nervously. ‘Fine!’ He swung round and unlocked the door.

  Flora, Mohsen and Wogan charged through and started running down the corridor. But Flora stopped when she realized they weren’t being followed.

  Dylan was still recording Charlie.

  Charlie’s face was creased with concentration.

  ‘Dylan! You need to come with us!’ shouted Flora. ‘You’re in terrible danger!’

  Dylan looked from Charlie to Flora and back to Charlie again.

  ‘GAH, OK!’ he cried, and he started running towards Flora.

  And the second they escaped the room, the fire in Charlie finally exploded. He felt himself torn apart, growing, every part of him stretching.

  He was filling the room.

  His expanding body smashed through the wall of the office, knocking it down like paper.

  He could just make out the small figures of his friends at the end of the corridor, running in terror. As he grew and grew, crushing the desk and computer under him, he saw them turn the corner and start down the stairs.

  Charlie was long now, as long as the corridor, but he was still growing. He smashed through the walls of the corridor, expanding into the chamber of chickens, scattering poultry in a storm of outraged clucking. He tried his hardest to slow his growth down, desperately clinging on to distant happy memories, but the fear that he might crush his friends turned those happy thoughts to ice.

  Charlie didn’t need a mirror to tell him what he was turning into.

  There was only one thing it could be.

  Only one thing that enormous.

  He was a whale.fn1

  He felt his back scraping the ceiling and the floor below him buckling under his huge weight. He could feel a great tail at the end of his body, swishing slightly, some instinct driving it to swim, but with each swish it knocked into the wall, causing dust and debris to fall on to Charlie’s head.

  Charlie tried to stay as still as possible and focus on changing back to Charlie. A broken silence settled in the building. Only the sounds of plaster crumbling from the ceiling and the distant pattering of his friends’ footsteps interrupted the quiet. And then there was a vast creak that Charlie felt underneath the whole length of his huge body. It could only mean one thing.

  Suddenly the floor beneath Charlie gave up. It could no longer take his weight. Charlie smashed through the collapsing floor and into the level below. He hurtled down, and then smashed through the floor of that level too, taking printers, pot plants and desks with him.

  His speed and weight took him straight through the next level too, and the one after that. Finally he crash-landed in the basement room, on a bed of crushed computer equipment – the servers that kept all of Van der Gruyne Industries’ informa
tion, the same computers they had seen when they first entered the building, and which were now completely destroyed.

  He lay there, breathing heavily through the blowhole at the top of his head. A few chickens clucked and pecked around him, and a handful of loose feathers floated in the dusty air. He was relieved to be still again, no longer crashing through ceilings and floors, but he was desperately worried for his friends. Had they made it out safely? Or had they been horribly caught up in the destruction caused by a massive whale collapsing through the building?

  Everything I do just makes things worse for my friends, Charlie thought, his heart aching with misery. Because HE was in trouble, his friends had got themselves into this horribly dangerous adventure. Charlie just prayed they had all escaped in time – even Dylan.

  Whatever had happened, Charlie knew he didn’t deserve friends like Flora, Mohsen and Wogan. They were too good for him, and they’d be a lot safer and happier if he just moved away from them anyway.

  Charlie’s vast black eyes saw the destruction around him – the destruction of the building and the destruction of his dreams, and he let out a great sigh through his blowhole, and the sigh felt like an ending.

  Without realizing quite what he was doing, Charlie started to sing. A slow, mournful song that seemed to contain all the sadness in the world. It was the music of melting snow and forgotten myths, and cold empty universes collapsing in on themselves, and with each melancholy note he sang Charlie began to forget who he was. He was the whale, and Charlie was no more. The low notes reverberated and shook the building, the long high notes were a lament to –

  ‘Would you cut that racket out? I can’t hear myself think!’

  Charlie’s huge heart practically leaped out of his body. That voice! He remembered! It was Wogan! He was safe! Charlie couldn’t turn but he could hear feet crunching through the debris on the floor.

  ‘Seriously! It’s giving me a headache,’ continued Wogan. ‘I bet they can hear it from miles away.’

  ‘Well, I thought it was rather lovely actually.’

  That was Flora’s voice, and Charlie didn’t think he had ever heard a more beautiful sound in his life, hearing her and knowing she was safe too.