LIFE’S A GAS

Sixty seconds after the bunyip first appeared, there was no one left in the lobby apart from me and the Outsiders. Even the Surf Gorillas who’d fainted had managed to crawl off into the night. Mayor Coogan had slid down his pole at some point and disappeared. There was no sign of Frost DeAndrews or Queen Victoria or my mom, and not a single ballerina, Elvis, pirate, punk, dinosaur, boxer, or bear was to be seen.

Crackling like an out-of-tune radio, the bunyip lurched unsteadily across a floor littered with costume props—false teeth, wigs, eyeglasses, hats, a wooden pirate’s leg, a stuffed parrot, the head of a panda. An abandoned camera lay on the floor, the button jammed. It flashed at odd intervals, making the lobby look as though there were a lightning storm outside.

“Anything?” I asked Ellie, who was still fiddling with the remote.

She shook her head. “It’s like it’s got a mind of its own.”

The bunyip reached the opposite side of the lobby, hit the wall, then turned toward the open door. Flames began to lick upward through holes in the creature’s skin.

Sal grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall. “Well, we can’t let it burn the place down.”

“Hold on a second, Sal,” Ellie said. “It’s heading outside.”

“There’s not too much damage in here,” Nico said. “Some water on the floor and a few broken glasses. We could disappear. No one would know it was us.”

I had a sudden flashback to Mom looking in my direction when the bunyip appeared. Was I really sure she knew? Or was that just guilt talking? Whatever, Nico’s idea was definitely worth considering. Deny everything. Let the bunyip become one of those urban myths.

“Look,” Mikey said.

The bunyip had made its way outside and was starting to put some distance between it and the surf club. Good. Every step it took meant less danger and less of a chance of us being found out. It looked like we were going to be okay.

We followed the bunyip outside and watched it stagger toward the splintered remains of the toilet Bradley had smashed up. It was almost completely on fire now and moved much more slowly. Every so often it made a little electronic beep or squawk, which somehow made it sound weirdly alive. It was like it knew it was dying.

“Maybe the best thing is to let it burn out,” Nico said. “Destroy the evidence?”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s probably the b—”

Chemistry isn’t something I pay much attention to, but as the bunyip crossed the last few feet to the smashed dunnies, one word leaped into my mind like a great big flashing neon sign: methane.

“Run!” I yelled.