THE GOOD NEWS, THE BAD
NEWS, AND THE FIREBALL

First the good news:

The good news was that a British Airways flight bound for Brazil was due to depart in exactly one hour and fifteen minutes.

*   *   *

And now the bad news:

Nelson had no money to buy a ticket, and even if he did have the money, he hadn’t thought to drive home and get his passport, and even if he had had the money and the passport, there was no way a boy of his age would be allowed to travel on his own without the proper paperwork and a chaperone. They definitely hadn’t thought this through.

*   *   *

What about the fireball?

That doesn’t happen yet. But it will. Soon.

*   *   *

“Well, we’re stuffed,” said Spike, who had been made to walk alongside the trolley to avoid pricking his fellow monsters.

Nelson didn’t answer Spike, but he knew he was right. They were stuffed. He looked around and spotted Hoot perched on a huge illuminated billboard for a men’s fragrance, which suited Hoot nicely, as he sat there admiring the perfect blond hair of the gentleman in the advertisement beneath his golden claws.

“If anyone could see what I can see, they would totally freak out,” said Nelson to himself, and this made an idea pop into his head like a slice of golden toast popping up from a toaster.

*   *   *

To everyone in the airport, this is what Nelson’s trolley looked like:

And to Nelson, this is what his trolley looked like:

Nelson could see past the line of people waiting to have their bags scanned to the departure lounge where the plane was getting ready to board. It was only about thirty meters away, but with all that security, it might as well have been a thousand miles.

“Can you make me invisible like you?” whispered Nelson to the monsters.

“Don’t be daft,” was Stan’s response, and the other monsters snorted.

“You go in ma belly!” shouted Nosh excitedly, pointing to his bulging stomach.

“Actually, fatty’s got a point,” said Spike.

“What? You think I can hide in your belly?” said Nelson, who really hoped the answer would be no.

“Ya! I hide you, Nelly-son. I hide you in ma big fat belly and we all go on da plane!”

“And I would be invisible?” said Nelson nervously.

“While it is true you will be invisible inside Nosh’s ample gut, you would have very little time before Nosh’s belly incinerated you,” said Miser.

“How long?” said Nelson, and Nosh shrugged.

“It depends on the size of what he has eaten. The bigger the meal, the longer he needs to generate the fire. My estimate would be around three minutes at best.”

“Three minutes?” said Nelson thoughtfully. “That might be enough time to get through security. Then we can think of something else. And you can definitely spit me out before your stomach catches fire?”

Nosh nodded eagerly.

“But what if he enjoys the taste of you, Master Nelson? Self-control while snacking is hardly one of Nosh’s strong points,” hissed Miser as his tentacles picked the pockets of a businessman who was staring at the departure board right behind them.

All the monsters looked at Nelson and waited eagerly for his response.

“I think … it’s quite likely … Nelson will … be cooked alive,” yawned Puff, proceeding to lick his paws with his blue tongue.

Nelson bit his lower lip and looked up at the departure screen. Their flight was already boarding.

Without thinking, Nelson’s right hand pressed down on his chest and felt the pea-sized stone against his skin. That reassuring wave washed over him once again.

“Honk! Honk! Honk!” Crush squeezed Nelson’s legs together and Nelson patted his head.

“Thanks, Crush. I really don’t want to do this…” said Nelson, which was another way of saying, “But I have no choice.”

The monsters cheered to show their support and, in a rather unsettling way, Nosh began to salivate and drool at the idea of eating a human. Nelson pushed the trolley to a quiet space beneath a staircase where the only people around were asleep on their luggage due to their flight being delayed.

Nosh didn’t need asking again; he simply opened his mouth as wide as a sleeping bag and Nelson climbed in. If any of the people around them had happened to wake up at this point, they would have seen the top half of a boy floating in midair.

This is what it looked like.

“Okay, we only have three minutes to get through security before Nosh’s gut goes up in flames, so you lot better go like a rocket or I’m going to be roasted alive and we’ll never save Celeste,” said Nelson, and instantly regretted saying her name, as apart from Nosh (whose mouth was full at the time), all the monsters howled in pain.

The stench coming up from Nosh’s belly was as foul as a bin that had been left unemptied all summer long, but Nelson knew this was no time to be squeamish.

“I shall keep count of the time,” said Miser, climbing back onto the trolley.

“I say, they have a marvelous range of grooming products in that shop over there. They even have a lotion that could cure you of those awful warts, my dear Miser,” said Hoot, who had fluttered down from his perch.

“Hoot, we’re going for it, so stay close and … good luck,” said Nelson, and he took off his back-pack and jacket and squatted down inside Nosh’s vast mouth, which snapped shut around him like a giant clam.

“Hooooonk!” cried Crush, hopping up and down on the spot next to Nosh.

“Go!” shouted Stan, and off they went.

“One … two … three…” counted Miser as Nosh, now swollen to almost twice his normal size, rolled onto the trolley and together the rest of the monsters pushed it as fast as they could toward the departure gate.

Nosh’s eyes watered at how delicious Nelson tasted. To make matters worse, it was almost ten minutes since he had last eaten so he was extremely hungry again.

For Nelson, this would be one of the most disgusting things that ever happened to him in his life. It was not only sticky and smelly inside Nosh’s guts, but there were all sorts of gross sloppy things that flopped against him like rotting wet sausages.

Despite most people in the airport being entirely preoccupied with their own travel, a luggage trolley speeding across the terminal all by itself was a jaw-dropping sight.

“… thirty-five … thirty-six … thirty-seven…” counted Miser as the trolley reached top speed.

The monsters were pushing it so fast that they were able to knock out of the way like bowling pins any luggage or people in their path.

“Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk! Hooonk!” went Crush, out of his mind with worry for Nelson.

“… fifty-eight … fifty-nine … Two minutes remain—hurry!” shouted Miser, as the trolley smashed into the barrier that should have stopped anyone without a ticket from passing through to the departure gate. Nosh rolled off the trolley and straight into a young couple busy taking off their jackets, watches, and shoes in preparation for the security scanners. People being knocked over by invisible forces isn’t something that happens every day, and of course it provoked huge amounts of panic, screaming, and general rushing about.

“… one minute, twenty-two … one minute, twenty-three … one minute, twenty-four…” said Miser, his voice getting louder in order to be heard above the pandemonium they were leaving in their wake.

Nelson had no idea where he was or how long they had left. Being inside Nosh’s stomach was like being in a washing machine made of rancid meat. Meanwhile the monsters were rolling Nosh along like you would if you were trying to make the biggest snowball you could possibly make.

“Two minutes!” shouted Miser, who for the first time looked extremely concerned. Nosh’s eyes were starting to glaze over in preparation for his belly igniting like a booster rocket.

There was only one obstacle left to get Nosh through, and that was the metal detector, which stood like an empty doorway between the monsters and the rest of the terminal. Unfortunately, with Nelson inside him, Nosh was too big to roll through and became jammed right in the middle of the device. Security guards had no idea what was going on.

They tried to walk through the apparently empty scanner to assist the passengers who had been knocked to the floor, but they were unable to pass, as if some kind of force field was stopping them. Of course, it wasn’t a force field; it was a monster with an eleven-year-old boy in its belly.

I suppose this is what it must feel like to be a Scotch egg.

Nelson suddenly felt a great surge of heat all around him and a new smell joined the stink: it was smoke. Nelson wanted to cry, “Let me out—he’s going to blow!” but time had already expired.

“… Two minutes, fifty-six … fifty-seven … fifty-eight … fifty-nine … Time’s up,” said Miser, turning away to avoid seeing Nosh’s head burst into flame. But Nosh was holding on like someone who needed the bathroom very badly and knew if he could just wait for a few seconds more he might not have to do it in the middle of a room full of people.

“Stand back!” yelled Stan, before charging at Nosh like a bull at a fat matador.

BANG!

Not only did Stan succeed in sending Nosh flying forward, he also caused Nelson to be spat out of Nosh’s slobbery great mouth, accompanied by a ball of fire.

*   *   *

(It would take an eagle-eyed security man called Jim Tindle watching the CCTV tapes back later that same day to see a brief glimpse of a boy appearing in midair as a fireball erupted behind him. Of course, the footage would be examined over and over again, and in the end it would be concluded that this must have been a glitch on the camera, as boys don’t just appear out of thin air, and no one really liked Jim Tindle anyway.)

*   *   *

Chaos erupted as flames engulfed the security gate and passengers who had been knocked to the floor by invisible monsters got tentatively to their feet.

Nelson had landed clear of the madness and only a few feet away from the entrance to the shop selling duty-free perfume. He quickly picked himself up off the floor and realized he was completely covered in slobber. The slobber might have been disgusting, but it seemed to have saved him from being singed by the flames. Luckily, no one was looking at Nelson, as everyone was much too busy watching the fire that had broken out in the security hall.

Crush leaped up at Nelson and hugged him around the neck. “Hoooooooooonk!”

“All right, Crush, take it easy. You’re going to strangle me,” spluttered Nelson as he ducked into the duty-free shopping area and hid behind the shelves filled with perfume bottles.

The rest of the monsters surrounded him but said nothing. They were all in shock due to having narrowly escaped what could have been a very nasty end to their journey and an even nastier end to Nelson’s life. Even Puff was wide awake and panting hard, with a disturbed look on his fluffy face (though it was hard to tell if Puff was freaked out because Nelson had almost been roasted alive or because he had just run for the first time in his life).

*   *   *

“Oh no, my backpack. Damn. Must have dropped it,” said Nelson, and like a perfectly timed joke it fell from above and hit him on the head.

“Terribly sorry, but you dropped this back there and I thought you might be needing it,” said Hoot, and Nelson was grateful despite the bump on his head.

So many security guards were rushing to the scene that nobody noticed an eleven-year-old boy covered in clear gloop quietly making his way toward the departure gates.