They Want What?

Hamish and the girl-with-the-blue-streak-in-her-hair-whose-name-he-still-did-not-know sat on the bench by the town clock and rested their feet on her huge backpack.

Around them, the people of Starkley went innocently about their business. Two dogs started to bark at each other. A man dropped a coin and shouted a rude word. Mr Slackjaw stood outside Slackjaw’s Motors, staring at his last few Vespas and shaking his head. There was a policeman next to him taking notes. And, to their side, a lady began to hammer a poster into a tree that read:

COME TO THE FAIR!

‘Don’t you ever feel you should tell someone?’ said Hamish, pointing at the people milling around. ‘Is it just us that know?’

The girl nodded and took a lick of a lollipop.

‘Yes. It’s just us. No one else knows. Just you and me. Now look at this . . .’

She unfolded a piece of paper. It had a chart on it, and various workings-out in bright blue and red pen. It had the name ‘Elliot’ at the bottom.

‘Who’s Elliot?’ asked Hamish.

‘Never mind,’ she said, dismissively. ‘By my calculations, based on the length and frequency of recent Pauses, we can expect another one at around ten to six this evening.’

‘So they’re coming?’ said Hamish, glancing nervously around. ‘They’re coming again?’

‘The Terribles don’t use every Pause for their evil,’ she said. ‘Sometimes they don’t show up at all. I think some of the Pauses must be used for resting, or admin.’

‘Admin?’ said Hamish.

‘You don’t take over the world without at least a little planning,’ she replied, knowingly.

‘Aren’t you terrified?’ asked Hamish. ‘How can you be so calm?’

‘I used to be scared,’ she said. ‘But not any more. I’m not scared of anything any more.’

‘Last night they took my neighbour,’ said Hamish. ‘I didn’t know they took people. What do they want with the grown-ups? And how do you know so much about all this?’

The girl’s face softened a little.

‘I know, because they took my parents,’ she said, quietly.

A thought began to form at the back of Hamish’s mind. His heart swelled a little and something flipped in his tummy.

‘What do you mean they took your parents?’ he asked.

‘I mean,’ said the girl, her stare turning to a look of sadness, ‘that one day my parents were there, in the house with me, and then one day they weren’t.’

‘So you just woke up and—’

‘And they were gone.’

Hamish didn’t quite know what to say. He wanted to tell her about his own dad and the day the Vauxhall hadn’t returned, but it felt too selfish somehow. This was her moment.

‘I looked for them,’ she said. ‘I thought maybe I’d forgotten they were going to visit my auntie or something. But then I saw they’d left their phones at home and the car was still there. So I waited and waited. I stayed at home all day. And, as it got darker and darker, I got more and more frightened. When it got to around one in the morning, I’d just decided to call the police when—’

‘The sky flashed?’

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘And the Terribles came out?’

‘Oh, Hamish,’ she said. ‘It was the worst. They arrived on their Requines.’

‘Requines?’

‘Haven’t you seen them? The Requines are the horrible lizard-horse things the Terribles ride about on.’

Hamish shuddered as he recalled the horrible creatures.

‘They were slinking around my street. The whole world was still. They were creeping into houses and they stole old Mr Neate who lived next door. They just flung him over their shoulders like he was a bag of old nuts,’ she said.

‘So what did you do?’

‘I did nothing! I just kept still like everyone else. And they didn’t seem to notice me, so . . . I’ve been doing it ever since.’

Hamish could see this girl was a fighter, living on her own with no one to tell about what had happened to her parents.

‘I ran out of money quickly so I used to just go to Lord of the Fries every night and take fishburgers,’ she said. ‘My fridge was packed with them. But then I realised I could use the Pause to do shopping and now I’m pleased to say I’ve discovered the benefits of vitamins and five-a-days.’

She made a pompous face.

‘But why haven’t you told anyone?’ he asked.

‘In case the Terribles find out it was me who told!’ she said. ‘I thought I was the only person in the world who knew. It always used to happen at night so I could hide away. And anyway . . . I thought that if I watched and observed for long enough then maybe I could find my parents again.’

She looked at him very seriously.

‘Because here’s the thing, Hamish,’ she said. ‘I think they’re taking a lot of grown-ups, but it’s the weak ones that return to Starkley. They’re the ones that are easy to brainwash and come back . . . processed. Like bad cheese. All curdled and stinky. I’m sure the strong adults, like my parents, are out there somewhere. They won’t give in. The Terribles have got them. But the weak ones come back processed and mean.’

Hamish thought about it.

Mr Longblather was certainly meaner than usual.

Frau Fussbundler too.

What about Tyrus Quinn? Rex Ox, with his football-firing leaf blower?

And – my goodness, yes! – Madame Cous Cous and her awful big stick!

The girl was right. It was perfectly clear that adults were getting meaner, so maybe the Terribles were processing them and sending them back!

‘The day after he was taken,’ said the girl, ‘old Mr Neate returned. He kicked his cat then put up a sign on his lawn saying Junk Mailers Will Be Shot! Now he just sits outside his house, throwing apples at children and making rude hand gestures at the vicar.’

Hamish was having trouble making sense of it all.

‘But why are the Terribles turning people mean?’ he asked.

‘So that we fight. So that we argue. So that the world is a horrible place that we don’t even want any more. I think they’ve started in Starkley, because it’s so boring that hardly anyone ever comes here. They’re testing things out and, if it works, I think they’ll turn the whole world mean. And that’s when they’ll take over. When we’re too mean to care.’

Hamish was horrified. Could the very future of life on earth be at stake – right here in Starkley?

If so, it looked like it might have to give its Fourth Most Boring Town certificate back.

Hamish had one more question. He was almost too scared to ask, but he knew he had to.

‘My dad didn’t come home one night,’ he said, carefully, avoiding her eye. ‘Do you think he might have been . . . taken?’

The girl smiled a gentle smile.

‘I don’t know, Hamish,’ she said. ‘It’s possible. But I just don’t know. Was he weak or strong?’

He was the strongest, thought Hamish. He was the tallest! And he’d never give in to a bunch of ugly monsters!

But at the same time . . . what if he hadn’t been taken? What if one day he’d just woken up and he was just bored of his life?

Bored of Hamish?

Maybe it was better never to know, because if that was the truth, it was almost worse than any bunch of rampaging monsters.

‘I have to go,’ said the girl, pointing up at the clock. ‘I’ve got a meeting.’

‘A meeting? A meeting with who?’

‘Never you mind with who,’ she said. ‘And anyway, it’s whom.’

She heaved her huge backpack onto her little shoulders.

‘When will I see you again?’ he said. ‘Or is it you?’

She smiled, but said nothing.

‘Later on?’ he tried. ‘During the next Pause?’

‘You know what you need to do during the next Pause,’ she said, turning back to face him. ‘You need to get your watch back. Something like that could really help us in the fight.’

Us? thought Hamish.

‘And one more thing,’ she said. ‘You said your mum works in the Complaints Office. You said she had a graph. One that showed all the complaints.’

Hamish nodded, confused.

‘Bring it next time. Okay?’

‘Um . . . okay?’ he replied.

‘Maybe we were meant to meet, Hamish Ellerby,’ she said, as she began to walk away.

‘Wait – what’s your name?’ he said. ‘Please?’

‘Alice,’ said the girl, without turning around. ‘My name is Alice Shepherd.’