Atticus Claw Goes Ashore

by Jennifer Gray

  CHOMP. CHOMP. CHOMP.

  CHOMP. CHOMP. CHOMP.

  The magpies strained their ears. ‘Is that chewing I can hear?’ Jimmy said uncertainly.

  The sound of an enormous belch penetrated the fog.

  ‘It’s the man-eating plankton!’ another pirate yelled. ‘They’re coming aboard.’

  There was pandemonium amongst the pirates.

  Shots rang out. Cutlasses swished through the air. The screams were interspersed with swearing.

  ‘Hold steady, you lily-livered poltroons!’ Captain Black Beard-Jumper roared at his men. ‘Or you’ll cut each other to ribbons. STAMP ON THE BEASTS!’ His big boots clattered on the wooden deck. It sounded like he was dancing a jig.

  Other pirates followed his lead.

  TAP TAP TAP TAP!

  CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP!

  BBUUUURRRRPPPP!

  The cacophony of noises went on and on. It was impossible in the fog to know what was happening or who was having the better of it – the man-eating plankton or the pirates. From the amount of burping going on, it sounded like the man-eating plankton were.

  ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’ Up in the rigging Thug’s beak started to chatter. ‘I don’t want to be eaten alive!’ he screamed. ‘I’m too young to die!’

  ‘Shut up, you idiot!’ Jimmy hissed. ‘The plankton don’t know we’re up here.’

  ‘Er, I think they do now, Boss,’ Slasher said.

  The sound of chomping became louder. Tiny pinpricks of green were forging their way up the rigging towards the magpies in an advancing tide.

  ‘Should we fly away, Boss?’ Slasher gulped.

  Jimmy looked around desperately. ‘We fly away in this and we might never find the ship again!’ The fog was thicker and yellower than ever, like dirty cotton wool.

  ‘What are we gonna do?’ Thug screeched.

  Just then there was a flutter of wings. Pam landed beside them.

  ‘You hang that mirror yet, Jim?’ she nagged.

  ‘Not quite, Pamela, my dear,’ Jimmy said hastily. ‘It’s next on my list!’

  ‘Yeah? Well, I brought you this, for when you get to the poo bucket,’ Pam produced a packet from under her arm.

  ‘Never mind your poo bucket, you demented dodo!’ Thug screeched. ‘We’re about to be devoured by man-eating plankton!’

  Pamela nipped Thug hard on his head.

  ‘Don’t call me a demented dodo,’ she said, ‘or I’ll get the cook to pluck you.’

  ‘We do have a situation, though, er … darling,’ Jimmy said.

  The man-eating plankton were getting perilously close.

  ‘Blimey!’ Pam peered down at the advancing hordes. ‘I didn’t realise they could climb.’ She shook the packet of Scrubbit. ‘I reckon if it works on my poo bucket, it might work on these little beasts. Whadayousay we give it a try, Jim?’ She tore open the packet with her beak and sprinkled it on the swarming plankton.

  The man-eating plankton started to cough. Some of them began to retreat. Others dissolved into green gunk.

  Pam sprinkled more Scrubbit.

  More man-eating plankton fell away.

  Pam shook the packet of Scrubbit again. It was empty.

  ‘Blast it! I’m out!’ Pam swore.

  ‘Now what?’ Slasher’s beak was chattering. ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

  A new wave of plankton had come into view. It was like a green blanket edged with a great wall of yellow teeth.

  ‘Fishhook Frank says that’s why they attack in the fog,’ Pam regarded them with interest, ‘so you can’t see their gnashers.’

  CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP.

  CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP.

  The man-eating plankton were closing in fast again.

  ‘I can’t afford to lose any more tail feathers!’ Thug screeched. ‘Help!’

  ‘Come with me.’ Pam led them up to the crow’s nest. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

  She jumped on to the edge of the basket and lowered her tail.

  PHUT! PHUT! PHUT!

  PHUT! PHUT! PHUT!

  Pam let out a deluge of droppings, followed by an explosion of foul-smelling gas.

  Thug fainted.

  The man-eating plankton stopped in their tracks.

  PHUT! PHUT! PHUT!

  PHUT! PHUT! PHUT!

  ‘Take that you little blighters!’ Pam screeched.

  There was a fizzing noise, then a series of faint pops.

  POP! POP! POP!

  POP! POP! POP!

  Slasher peered over the edge of the crow’s nest. ‘Pam’s poop is making them explode!’ he said in awe. ‘Wow, Boss, I don’t envy you having to clean out her poo bucket.’

  Jimmy looked wan.

  ‘That’ll teach you!’ Pam screamed at the rest of the retreating plankton. She turned to Jimmy. ‘I’m going back to see how the Captain’s doing! Wait here until he gives the all-clear. Then go and fix that mirror.’

  The magpies waited anxiously in the crow’s nest, except Thug who lay unconscious, his feet in the air.

  A few minutes later Captain Black Beard-Jumper’s voice bellowed through the fog. ‘All right, you horn-swaggling scumbags, the show’s over. Collect the bodies and throw them overboard.’

  The fog began to lift.

  Jimmy and Slasher peered down.

  The deck was littered with human skeletons. Splashes of blood were plastered all over the deck and on the sails.

  ‘’Ere, Thug, have a look at this! It’s well gruesome!’ Slasher propped him up.

  Thug opened his eyes.

  ‘I’m not mopping that up,’ he said, before he fainted again.

  ‘Phew,’ said Jimmy. He began to preen his glossy feathers. ‘That was close.’

  ‘Pam did well,’ Slasher said, slapping Thug around the face. ‘You glad you married her, Boss?’

  ‘Of course I’m not,’ Jimmy spat. ‘I’d rather be eaten by a giant squid.’

  Just then the ship gave a terrible lurch.

  The magpies tumbled on to the deck.

  All the pirates started screaming again.

  ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have said that, Boss,’ Slasher gulped.

  Waving in the air above the Golden Doubloon were eight enormous tentacles.

  On board Mr Tucker’s ship, Destiny, Atticus was on watch. ‘Bones!’ he called. ‘Look! It’s the Golden Doubloon!’

  The pirate ship was just visible in the distance. It was the first time Atticus had seen it. It was like something from a movie. The huge hull rose tall and black out of the water, topped with four masts and a mass of billowing sails. No wonder Bones was such a good ship’s cat!

  ‘Wait!’ he whispered. ‘What’s wrong with it?’ The ship was lurching from side to side. ‘And what are those?’ He pointed to the eight thick white limbs that enveloped it.

  Bones glanced at the stricken Doubloon. ‘It’s the giant squid,’ she said quietly. Then she raced downstairs to alert Mr Tucker.

  Of course! Atticus watched in horror as the squid took hold.

  Soon the whole crew of Destiny was assembled on deck. All except Inspector Cheddar, who remained below. He was still trying to think of a word that rhymed with verruca.

  They watched in silence for a few minutes. Mrs Tucker lowered her binoculars. ‘Maybe it is a good thing you used to be a pirate after all,’ she told her husband. ‘Otherwise we wouldn’t have got this far.’

  ‘Thanks, Edna.’ Mr Tucker looked pleased.

  Atticus didn’t know what to think. On the one paw if Mr Tucker hadn’t been a pirate then he would still be in Littleton-on-Sea doing police-catting with the kittens; Inspector Cheddar wouldn’t have been cursed, and the kids wouldn’t be worried their dad was about to die. On the other paw he wouldn’t have met Bones and learnt to sail. Atticus sighed. Life could be very confusing sometimes, the way things happened when you didn’t expect them to.

  One thing was certain though: Mr Tucker was the best person to get them safely to Volcano Island. Atticus had no d
oubt about that. They had come unscathed through the Storm of Stupefaction, and so far they had navigated the Ocean of Terror without incident. The magical sea creatures had been drawn to Captain Black Beard-Jumper’s ship just as Mr Tucker had predicted, leaving the Destiny to sail through easily. Best of all they had made good progress. There was one day to go until sunset on Friday. If everything went according to plan they would just be in time to save Inspector Cheddar from the curse of the black spot.

  ‘We’ll lie low for a bit,’ Mr Tucker said. ‘Then, once we’re sure the Doubloon’s sunk, we’ll push on.’

  Atticus glanced at Bones. ‘Are you okay?’ he said. He wondered how she felt now that the ship she had spent almost all her life on was in trouble.

  ‘Couldn’t be better,’ Bones said briskly. ‘It serves Black Beard-Jumper right. I just hope Fishhook makes it. He’s the only one who doesn’t deserve to drown.’

  Atticus couldn’t blame Bones for not feeling sorry for the pirates’ plight: not after what Black Beard-Jumper and his men did to her family. He wondered how the magpies were faring. Knowing Jimmy and his gang, Atticus decided, they were bound to find some way of escaping the giant squid’s clutches. Jimmy was the most devious animal he’d ever come across, apart from Ginger Biscuit.

  Callie was casting nervous glances at the sea. ‘How do we know the plankton won’t come after us?’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘They’s full up with pirates,’ Mr Tucker said. ‘That’s how.’

  Atticus felt relieved: he’d been worrying about that too.

  A terrible crack echoed across the Ocean of Terror. One of the squid’s tentacles had broken the Golden Doubloon’s main mast.

  ‘Here you go, Atticus!’ Mrs Tucker held the binoculars to his eyes. Atticus could see the pirates swarming about the deck, trying to gather in the remaining sails. Some of them shot at the giant squid with pistols. Others attacked it with cutlasses. The more they swiped, the angrier the squid became. Its tentacles lashed at the ship.

  ‘What about the giant lobster?’ Michael asked. ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘It’ll be lurking on the seabed beneath the Doubloon,’ Mr Tucker said gloomily. ‘Planning its attack. That’s what it did with me, anyways. I was so busy trying to outrun the squid, I didn’t notice the lobster until it grabbed me with its crusher claw.’

  ‘There it is!’ Mrs Cheddar cried.

  Atticus saw the huge pink crustacean haul itself up the side of the Golden Doubloon. Its eyes bulged. Its antennae waved frantically in the air as it guided itself towards its victims, its two monstrous claws nipping at anything that got in its way. Atticus shuddered. He didn’t think he’d ever want to eat shellfish again.

  The pirates jabbed at the lobster with their swords.

  ‘They’s won’t get nowhere doin’ that,’ Mr Tucker commented. ‘It’s got a shell as thick as a pirate’s arm.’

  ‘They’re lowering the lifeboats!’

  *

  Mrs Tucker snatched back the binoculars. ‘Black Beard-Jumper must have given the order to abandon ship.’

  Atticus could see the lifeboats flop into the water beside the doomed vessel. Men hurried down the ladders and threw themselves into the boats. The Golden Doubloon was listing dangerously to her port side. The giant squid wrapped its tentacles around the prow. Another crack rang out.

  ‘She’s done for!’ Mr Tucker announced.

  The ship gave a terrible groan. Then slowly it began to sink.

  The remaining pirates jumped overboard and swam for their lives. There was only one figure still visible on the ship.

  ‘It’s Black Beard-Jumper!’ Mrs Tucker said. She gave Atticus another look down the binoculars.

  ‘Why doesn’t he leave?’ Atticus meowed at Bones.

  Captain Black Beard-Jumper stood tall and proud, his cutlass raised above his head, his beard-jumper curling down his chest.

  ‘A captain should go down with his ship,’ Bones replied. ‘It’s traditional.’ She shrugged. ‘Black Beard-Jumper won’t let himself drown though. He’s just showing off to his men. He wants that casket.’

  The giant lobster was making its way towards the Captain who swiped at its antennae with his sword. The lobster stopped, confused: just long enough to give the Captain the chance he needed. With a shout of defiance he grabbed hold of a loose rope and plunged over the side of the Doubloon into a lifeboat.

  ‘Told you,’ Bones said.

  The pirates picked up the oars and the lifeboat pulled slowly away from the stricken ship.

  Mr Tucker nodded, satisfied. He emptied his pipe over the side of the boat and took hold of the wheel. ‘We’s got the advantage now,’ he said. ‘I’s reckon we’ll be at Volcano Island by first light. It’ll take them a week to row there. Let’s go.’

  Atticus resumed his place beside the jib.

  The rest of the crew took up their stations. This time the children were allowed to remain on deck.

  Atticus scanned the horizon to see if he could see any sign of Volcano Island.

  He blinked.

  Something was poking out of the water. For a horrible moment Atticus thought it might be one of the giant squid’s tentacles. He stared at it.

  It wasn’t a tentacle. It was a grey metal tube, twisted over at the top. It finished in a round aperture like an eye. He swallowed. It was as if the object was staring back at him from the sea.

  ‘What is it, Atticus?’ Bones asked.

  ‘Over there.’ Atticus pointed, but the tube had disappeared. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know … I thought I saw something,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Probably a bit of driftwood,’ Bones suggested. ‘It’s easy to imagine things when you’ve been at sea a long time.’ She bounced off.

  Atticus busied himself with the sheet. Bones was probably right – he was imagining things. But he couldn’t get the idea out of his head that while they were watching Black Beard-Jumper and the pirates, something else had been watching them!

  ‘Land ahoy!’

  Atticus was dozing in the cabin when the shout finally came from Mr Tucker that they were nearing Volcano Island. The crew had been taking it in turns to get some rest before the final part of the journey, except Bones, who never seemed to be tired.

  Atticus checked the calendar. It was Friday – the thirteenth day of the seventh month: the day the curse was due to strike. It had taken them longer than Mr Tucker had expected to reach their destination. There were only a few hours to go until sunset.

  He jumped off Mrs Tucker’s bed and scrambled up to the deck.

  Volcano Island lay before them.

  It was conical in shape – just as Fishhook Frank had shown it on the map. Its summit was shrouded in smoke. A red vein of lava trickled from its peak, zigzagging its way down the rocky face of the mountain towards the sea. In contrast to the island where Fishhook Frank had been marooned, there was no beach and no vegetation: only rock.

  Mr Tucker was chewing his pipe stem anxiously.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Atticus asked Bones.

  ‘There’s nowhere to land,’ Bones replied.

  ‘We’ll get as close as we dare in the ship,’ Mr Tucker told the crew. ‘Then we’ll have to motor in on the rib and see if there’s somewhere to moor.’ He and Bones began to lower the dinghy over the side of the ship.

  This time Atticus didn’t need a bag to hoist him into it. Bones had taught him how to climb up and down the rigging using his four paws. He whizzed down the ladder after the children. The rib sat low in the water with everyone in it, especially as Mrs Tucker insisted on bringing a big, heavy plastic container with her at the last minute.

  Atticus secretly hoped it was full of packed lunch. A cat had to eat, even in times of emergency!

  The sea was as smooth as glass. They sped over the water with barely a bump.

  Volcano Island loomed towards them. The closer they got, the craggier the rock face appeared. Great boulders rose from the sea around the base of the island. Behind
the boulders the sheer cliffs of the volcano towered above them.

  Atticus felt apprehensive. It looked impossible to get close to the island even in the dinghy, let alone find a way in through the rock to the lagoon under the mountain.

  Mr Tucker consulted Fishhook Frank’s map.

  ‘There should be a path leading into the mountain,’ he said, scrutinising it.

  Atticus remembered now. The path led into the mountain under a waterfall of lava.

  ‘We need to be nearer to the lava flow.’ Mrs Tucker pointed to the trickle of red.

  Except it wasn’t a trickle any more, Atticus observed. This close in, it was more like a torrent.

  They motored towards it. The air temperature grew hotter. And the smell was disgusting! Atticus wrinkled his nose. It was like rotten eggs!

  ‘It’s sulphur, Atticus.’ Michael coughed. ‘It’s a gas that comes out of volcanoes when they erupt.’

  ‘Everyone keep their eyes peeled for the path,’ Mrs Tucker ordered. ‘And cover your nose and mouth.’

  They all held something to their face to keep out the stinking gas. Atticus used the flap of his neckerchief, holding it with one front paw while he balanced on the other. Mrs Tucker gave Bones a scarf.

  The rib chugged on slowly. The boulders were packed tight. They were never going to get past them!

  All of a sudden an opening appeared.

  ‘I’ll bet it’s this way,’ Mr Tucker slipped the rib cautiously into the opening. The boulders crowded either side of the little inflatable boat.

  Atticus thought it might be a dead end but after a short while they edged out from between the boulders into a narrow channel next to the sheer face of the cliff.

  ‘I thought so,’ Mr Tucker said in a satisfied voice. ‘Now we’s getting somewhere. Watch out for submerged rocks!’ he added. ‘We don’t want to sink like the Titanic.’

  Atticus had heard of the Titanic. It was a big boat that hit an iceberg under the water and sank to the bottom of the sea. He didn’t want that to happen either. He stared fixedly ahead, looking for hazardous rocks (and icebergs, just in case).

  They inched forward. Atticus’s ears were buzzing from the effort of concentrating amidst the heat and smell the lava was giving off. His eyes stung. It was hard to breathe. The sulphur seemed to clog his lungs. It was even worse than the smoke from Mr Tucker’s tobacco pipe.