‘Good gracicles,’ said Clod, leaning in excitedly. ‘What else?’
Neville stared at his dooda and wished he would stop asking questions. How much longer before they got to dry land?
‘ALL THOSE GROTTISH CRUMPS AND CREAKERS AIN’T NEARLY AS BADLY AS …’ Old Barnacle paused for a moment.
‘As what?’ asked Neville.
‘AS …’ said Old Barnacle. He was enjoying telling his sea stories a little bit too much. ‘AS THE MOST POOKIN’LY TERRORSOME THING THAT EVER SWAM IN THE GREAT DOOKY DEEP.’
Neville could barely breathe. He leaned forward on the bench. ‘What’s that?’ he whispered.
‘GUNDISKUMPS!’ Old Barnacle yelled, brandishing his ear trumpet like a cutlass. ‘AS BIG AS A MOUNTAIN AND MEANER THAN A MUNGLER.’
‘What’s a gundiskump?’ said Neville, instantly wishing he hadn’t asked.
‘GUNDISKUMPS ARE THE BIGGEST OF ALL THE BIG’UNS,’ said Old Barnacle. ‘TERRIBLE THINGS; THEY SLEEP FOR HUNDREDS OF BANGS AND BONGS AND THEN WAKE UP HUNGRIER THAN A FATTY AT A TROLLABALOO.’
Neville listened with wide eyes and tried to ignore the fact that the butterflies in his belly had turned into eagles.
‘AND THE MOST FAMOUS OF ALL THE GUNDISKUMPS IS GREAT GURTY. HUNGRIEST OF THE LOT, THAT ONE. IT’S FABLED HE’S GOT THE GREATEST TROLL TREASURE THERE EVER WAS STASHED AWAY IN HIS BELLY.’
‘Junkish porkies!’ said Malaria. ‘There ain’t no such thing.’
‘IS TOO!’ said Old Barnacle.
‘Nonkumbumps,’ Malaria chuckled. ‘Don’t you listen, Nev. That’s just a snizzly bedtime tale.’
‘W-w-what do they look like?’ Neville asked with a clenched bottom.
‘ERM …’ said Old Barnacle as he pointed to something in the distance behind Neville. ‘WELL … LIKE THAT, REALLY.’
Neville spun round and froze. A mountainous beast was hurtling through the water towards them at tremendous speed.
‘GUNDISKUMP!! QUICK!’ yelled Old Barnacle. ‘ALL HANDS A-ROWIN’!’ He grabbed a set of oars from the side of the boat and flung one each to Clod and Rubella. ‘WE’RE ALMOST THERE … ROW!’
Rubella started screaming and paddling on one side with all her might, making the boat go round in circles.
‘C’mon, Clod!’ Malaria bellowed. ‘WE’LL BE GULPED!’
Clod finally started rowing and the boat began to pick up speed as he joined in with Rubella.
‘It’s not fast enough!’ yelled Neville. ‘We’ll never outrun it!’
‘JUST YOU WAIT,’ Old Barnacle grunted. He grabbed the bottle from the bench beside him and emptied the last of the frog grog into the engine tank. ‘THAT OUGHT TO DO IT!’
There was a loud BANG! and the little boat tore off towards the Clunk in a cloud of frog-grog-smelling smoke. Neville would have toppled overboard if Pong hadn’t grabbed him by the arm.
‘Thanks, Pong,’ Neville yelled over the din of the engine. Pong grinned and cooed loudly.
‘HOW’S IT LOOKIN’, YOUNG’UN?’ Old Barnacle shouted to Neville. Neville clambered behind the ancient troll and looked into the distance. The gundiskump was much closer.
‘It’s gaining on us!’ Neville screamed. He could see the great fish clearly now and he thought he might throw up with fear. The gundiskump was the size of a shopping centre – a hulking mass of spines and scales – and its entire body glowed with a ghostly orange light. Between its massive eyes sprouted a spine as long as Neville’s back garden and from the end of it dangled what looked like a giant light bulb. The whole thing was like some monstrous, thrashing Christmas decoration.
‘COME ON!’ shouted Old Barnacle. ‘PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT!’
Neville looked about at the chaos. This was a nightmare. Clod and Rubella were rowing up a storm, splashing water high into the darkness on either side of the boat, and Malaria was tearing big chunks of wood from the benches and throwing them at the fish as it approached. Neville watched as a huge piece bounced off the gundiskump’s scaly forehead. It was like throwing peas at an elephant.
‘WE’RE ALL DOOMED!’ Rubella suddenly screeched. ‘I DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO SEE YOUR STUPID GRANDMOOMA!!’
‘GGRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!’ the fish roared as it tore through the waves. It was so close Neville could smell its hot breath as a huge gust hit him.
‘QUICK!’ Old Barnacle shouted. He spun the wheel and tried to change direction, but it was too late. The gundiskump had caught up with them. Using its giant light bulb like the wrecking ball on a crane, it thwacked the little boat high into the air.
‘SAY YOUR GOODBYES!’ Old Barnacle wailed as he flew out of sight, the wheel still clutched firmly in his hands. ‘ALL’S LOST!’
‘OH, POOK!’ bellowed Clod. ‘THIS IS IT!’
Neville shot upwards into the darkness. All around he could see his troll-family tumbling and clawing at the air as Ole Sinky splintered into little pieces with a sickening crunch.
Below, the nightmare fish snarled as it waited for dinner to fall back down into its jaws.
‘NEV!’ Suddenly a hand grabbed hold of Neville’s. He looked back and saw Rubella. He’d never seen her looking so afraid. ‘HANG ON!’ she screamed. ‘JUST HANG ON!’
Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Neville looked down into the gaping black maw of the gundiskump. He watched as Clod, Malaria and Pong fell one by one towards the enormous mouth.
‘OH, POOK!’ shouted Clod.
‘AAAAAAAGH!’ bellowed Malaria.
‘OOOOOOOOORHHH!’ cooed Pong.
Here goes, Neville thought, screwing his eyes shut. The gundiskump has eaten my parents and now it’s going to eat me. I’m fish food.