Brilliant

  The Dog howled now, and Gloria’s question, “Why is he letting us chase him?” seemed to answer itself.

  “It’s a trap,” said Gloria.

  But no one heard her.

  Then she heard the voice.

  “I’m not going to bite you,” said the voice.

  It was the Dog. Gloria was sure of it, even though she couldn’t see him.

  “No,” said the voice, the Dog. “You’re not worth biting.”

  It was a horrible voice. It was low and sneering, and kind of wet. Gloria could feel it on her skin, her face and neck. She tried to rub it off.

  “You’re useless.”

  The voice came with a stink.

  “That’s right,” said the voice. “That’s how useless you are. That’s what happens to everything around you. It all starts to rot.”

  Gloria wanted to cry. She felt the Dog’s fur now, against her face. It was rough, and wet.

  “Useless,” he whispered.

  He was right up beside her. He was sliding, swimming around her. She couldn’t hear the others now at all. It was quiet, silent, as if the Dog was whispering the same thing privately to all of them. She still couldn’t see him.

  But he was definitely there. She wasn’t asleep.

  “You’re no good to anyone,” he said.

  Gloria knew that wasn’t true. But she felt like it was true. She was going to lie down on the cold ground.

  “Good idea,” said the Dog.

  She’d lie down and escape, close her eyes and drift away, home. She just had to lie down. She just had to close her eyes. She just had to forget.

  “Excellent idea,” the Dog sneered.

  She was bending down toward the ground.

  “That’s right.”

  But then she had a different idea.

  “Brilliant.”

  She whispered it, and it produced a tiny, whispered light that was hardly there.

  She heard a groan.

  She said it again.

  “Brilliant.”

  Louder. The groan was farther away this time. The Dog was moving, slouching away. The stink was gone, and she could see the Dog in the new light. He was just a big dog, running away. From Gloria. And she knew the Dog was a liar. She wasn’t useless.

  “Brilliant!” she shouted. “Rayzer!”

  “Here.”

  “Shout Brilliant!”

  “Brilliant!”

  The trees were lovely. Then it was dark again.

  “Hey, Ernie!” Gloria roared.

  “. . . Wha’?”

  Ernie sounded sad and three-quarters asleep.

  “Shout Brilliant!”

  “. . . Why, like?”

  “Just do it!”

  “. . . Okay. Brilliant, brilliant, bleedin’ brilliant!”

  The trees were lit and gorgeous, like in a film. Gloria could see the other kids now. Some of them were getting up off the ground. They all looked like they’d been asleep and stuck in a horrible nightmare that was still holding on to them.

  “Everyone shout!” said Gloria. “Brilliant! Come on!”

  “Brilliant,” said Paddy.

  It felt good, hearing his own voice, knowing he was awake again, and safe.

  Suzie yelled it, and laughed.

  Raymond laughed too. He lifted his arms and thumped the air above him—“Yesss!”

  They all walked side by side through the sparkling trees. They could hear the Dog charging away from their voices. They could hear his paws. And they could see him now too, through the trees.

  The trees stopped being so thick and close together. They could see the sky, clouds rolling above them.

  They came out of the trees. Gloria felt like she’d been in there, walking through the forest, for days. They all felt that way. They looked at one another, like people who hadn’t met in ages.

  They kept walking, till they were well clear of the trees and the damp cold that seemed to cling to them.

  Then they stopped and gathered together.

  “Is everyone here?” asked Raymond.

  Most of them, the older ones, looked around.

  “How can we tell?,” asked Paddy.

  It was a good question. It wasn’t a school outing or a group of friends on an adventure. They’d never met until just before they’d run into the park. Gloria looked around. She knew her brother, and Ernie. She knew Paddy’s name, and Suzie’s. She smiled at Suzie. But she knew no one else. So Paddy’s question, “How can we tell?,” was a good one, and a bit horrible. They couldn’t tell if anyone was missing.

  “What’ll we do, Rayzer?” Gloria asked.

  “We’ll count who’s here,” said Raymond.

  “Listen up,” he said to everybody. “Find out the name of whoever’s beside you, and the next time we stop, make sure you can see them.”

  “Good idea,” said Paddy.

  They stood still while Raymond quickly counted. They watched through the darkness as the Black Dog ran toward the zoo. They asked one another their names—

  “James.”

  “Chantelle.”

  “Suzie.”

  “Cormac.”

  “Ailish”

  “Glenn”

  “Mark.”

  “Paula.”

  “Conor.”

  There were four Conors, and two Aislings, a Precious, a Sunday, three Hollys, and a Boris.

  Raymond was finished.

  “Forty-seven,” he said. “Everyone remember.”

  “Forty-seven,” said Suzie.

  “Forty-seven,” said Boris.

  The Black Dog was nearly at the zoo wall.

  “Is he getting bigger?”

  “Think so . . . Don’t know . . . Maybe.”

  “Come on!”

  “Hang on,” said Gloria. “Should we not check if there’s anyone still, like, asleep in the trees?”

  No one wanted to go back in there. But no one wanted to say no.

  Then they heard a voice.

  “It’s fine.”

  They couldn’t see anyone, but the voice seemed to be coming from behind them, high up in the trees.

  “You left no one behind.”

  The voice was calm, and nice—a granddad’s voice.

  “Come on!”

  They ran.

  “There they go,” said the owl to his friend, the second owl.

  “They listened to you that time,” said the second owl.

  “Yes,” said the first owl.

  “Do you think they’ll make it?” the second owl asked.

  “Well,” said the first owl. “They’ve got this far.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Me too.”

  “So, who knows?” said the first owl. “They might just do it.”

  “We’re in trouble if they don’t.”

  “That’s true,” said the first owl. “But look at them down there. They’re brave.”

  “Yes,” said the second owl. “They are.”

  CHAPTER 9

  They watched the Black Dog jump over the wall of the zoo. He seemed to be even bigger.

  “Can we not just, like, go home?” asked the boy called Cormac.

  “No,” said Raymond. “We have to stop him.”

  “Yeah,” said Gloria—she was puffing a bit. “And now we know how to do it.”

  “How?”

  “With Brilliant.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  They were running into danger—they were running after it, chasing it. They all knew that. But running was easier than staying still, and no one wanted to be left behind—alone.

  “Look it!” Ernie shouted.

  “Deadly.”

  There were more kids running toward them, from the other side of the park.

  “Breakfast,” said Ernie.

  “Shut up, Ernie,” said Gloria.

  “Only messin’,” said Ernie. “Rice Krispies’ll do for me.”

  “Come on!”

  They all kept running toward
the zoo.

  But the zoo was shut. It was still dark, so everything was locked up and there was no one behind the glass where you paid to get in.

  The walls were very high.

  “He jumped over that,” said Chantelle. “I seen him.”

  “All dogs can jump,” said Sunday.

  “It’s too high to climb over,” said Gloria. “What’ll we do?”

  Ernie shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “The zoo will be open in a couple of hours,” said one of the Conors.

  “We can wait,” the boy called Cormac suggested.

  “No . . . way,” said a new girl, Alice.

  She’d just arrived, and she was puffing a bit. She hadn’t even stopped running when she spoke.

  “There’s no . . . way I’m . . . waiting.”

  “Yeah,” said another kid, then another.

  “We have to get the Dog, remember.”

  “How, but?”

  It was harder to stay brave when they were just standing there, and it was cold and dark. The bad dream with the Dog was still floating around their heads, whispering in their ears—“Useless!”

  They kept staring at the wall. It seemed to be growing even higher.

  But then Raymond spoke.

  “Ernie.”

  “Wha’?” said Ernie.

  “Hold me,” said Raymond.

  “Wha’?” said Ernie. “No way.”

  “Go on,” said Raymond. “I’ll climb on your shoulders.”

  “No, you won’t,” said Ernie.

  “Listen,” said Raymond. “I go on your shoulders—”

  Paddy was about to object. He wanted to be in on the plan as well. But then he heard Raymond.

  “And Paddy can get up on my shoulders and all the others can climb up us onto the wall.”

  “Cool.”

  “Ah, great,” said Ernie. “And everyone here gets to stand on my head with their mucky feet.”

  “Go on, Ernie,” said Gloria. “It’s the only way.”

  She loved the idea. She couldn’t wait to see it happening.

  “No,” said Ernie. “I’m a vampire, not a ladder.”

  “Ah, Ernie.”

  “Can I bite a few ankles on their way past me fangs?”

  “No way, Ernie.”

  Ernie sighed. “Not fair.”

  He stood with his back to the zoo wall and bent one of his knees, so Raymond could start climbing.

  He held out his hands.

  “Come to Ernie.”

  They all watched as Raymond climbed from Ernie’s knee, to his hip, to his shoulders. Raymond rested his back against the wall. Then they watched as Paddy climbed from Ernie’s knee, to his hip, to his head—

  “Ouch!”

  “Sorry.”

  —to his shoulders, to Raymond’s knee, hip, and shoulders. Gloria and Suzie and the new girl helped the little kids climb up Ernie, to Raymond’s waiting hands.

  Gloria nudged the new girl, Alice.

  “That’s my brother,” she said, proudly.

  “Who?” said Alice. “The vampire fella?”

  “No way,” said Gloria. “The other one. Rayzer.”

  “Is he in charge?” asked a new boy, Damien.

  “Yeah,” said Gloria. “Kind of.”

  Some of the others nodded. None of them knew Raymond, but they liked him. They liked being near him. He made them feel braver, and a bit safer.

  “Who’s next?”

  “Me!”

  “No, me!”

  Ernie grabbed the smallest kid, a boy.

  “Come here, Snack.”

  “Ernie,” Gloria said, warning him.

  “Only messin’,” said Ernie, and he held the boy up till Raymond grabbed him and passed him up to Paddy. The smallest kid was laughing. The others watched him climb up Paddy, holding on to Paddy’s jeans and hoodie. He got on to the wall and sat down. They laughed, and forgot they were frightened.

  “Me next!”

  They were all on the wall now, in less than three minutes. Gloria was the last to be delivered.

  “Here we go,” said Ernie, and he held her gently under her arms.

  Her feet left the ground.

  “Thanks, Ernie.”

  “No sweat,” said Ernie.

  She climbed past Ernie—“Seeyeh, Ernie”—past Raymond—“Seeyeh, Rayzer”—and on, up to Paddy. She could see over the wall now, all the trees and the lake and the African section, way at the back of the zoo. The other kids made space for her and she sat down.

  There was no one left except the three boys who’d been the ladder. Paddy lifted one of his legs from Raymond’s shoulder. He looked like he was going to jump but he turned and grabbed the top of the wall. Damien and Alice helped him up.

  That left Raymond and Ernie.

  Paddy lay on his stomach on the top of the wall.

  “Hold my legs,” he said to Damien and Alice.

  Raymond did what Paddy had done. He stepped off Ernie, and turned. He held up his hands, and Paddy grabbed them. Then Raymond climbed the rest of the way, holding on to Paddy’s arm.

  Ernie was the only one left.

  “How will you get up, Ernie?” Gloria called down.

  “Haven’t a clue,” said Ernie.

  They heard a loud squawk and saw a big seagull fly down and land on top of a trash bin near the wall, then fly—nearly jump—off the bin, up over the wall, right over their heads.

  “Hey, Ernie—”

  “I know,” said Ernie. “I’ll follow the seagull. Nothin’ to it.”

  They watched as Ernie walked away, back toward the trees. Gloria began to think that he was going home, when he turned and started to glide—fast. He was heading straight for the bin. Just before he got to it, he stopped gliding and started to run properly—fast—really fast. Then he jumped.

  They gasped and cheered. Ernie’s cape spread out behind him. It looked like he was really flying as he landed on top of the bin and jumped—bent his legs and pushed—at the wall.

  “Uh-oh!”

  He went right over it.

  Gloria couldn’t watch—but she did, she had to. She watched Ernie, in midair, as he reached back and grabbed the bottom corners of his cape with both hands and held them up.

  Ernie’s cape had become a parachute, and Ernie floated to the ground, inside the zoo.

  He landed, fell, stood up, and shook his cape.

  “Nothin’ to it,” he said.

  The kids on the wall cheered and clapped. It was the coolest thing most of them had ever seen.

  Ernie stood with his back to the wall, and Raymond lowered himself on his shoulders.

  “Wipe your feet,” said Ernie.

  Paddy stood on Raymond shoulders, facing the wall, and the kids climbed and crawled down his back, to Raymond, to Ernie, to the ground. They were all less frightened now—the bigger kids too—inside the zoo.

  Gloria landed, then Paddy, then Raymond.

  They were ready to go.

  But that was the new problem. Where had the Dog gone?

  “Ernie,” said Raymond.

  “Wha’ now?”

  “Can you see the Dog?”

  “No.”

  “Not from here, Ernie,” said Gloria, and she pointed at the nearest bin. “From up there.”

  “Gotcha,” said Ernie, and he started to glide across to it.

  “That’s so cool,” said Precious.

  They all watched as Ernie jumped and landed on the bin.

  “See anything, Ernie?”

  “Over there,” said Ernie. “The big things. The what’re-they-called? The elephants.”

  He pointed ahead, a bit to the right.

  “They’re goin’ a bit mad,” said Ernie.

  “Come on!” said Raymond.

  “Come on!” said Damien, who didn’t see why he should do everything Raymond told him to.

  “Come on!” said Alice, who didn’t see why she had to do everything two skinny boys told her to.

/>   “Come on!” said Paddy, who thought Alice was lovely.

  They all ran together. They felt bigger together, stronger, and their feet made big noise on the path. There were no clouds now; the sky was clear. So they could see where they were running.

  They ran past the meerkats.

  “Go get him, kiddos!”

  “Who said that?” Gloria asked Suzie.

  “Don’t know,” said Suzie.

  They kept running.

  Damien wanted to go faster, to pass Raymond and be at the front. And Raymond wanted to pass Damien. But they had to let the other kids stay up with them, especially the little ones. There weren’t sure why, but they knew they needed as many kids as possible to catch the Dog and capture the funny bone. But it made their legs sore, having to run slowly.

  Raymond decided not to hate Damien and, immediately, running slowly became easier.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Damien.”

  “Mine’s Ray.”

  The kids dashed past the lemurs and spider monkeys.

  “I’m glad I’m not paying for this,” said Paddy. “It’d be a terrible waste of money.”

  Alice laughed, and Paddy was delighted. He was thrilled and all-powerful. He was going to punch the Dog so hard, he’d send him into the middle of next week. Or last week—he wasn’t sure which.

  Alice was happy too. She thought Paddy was massive, and she’d decided in her head that they were on their first date—and her very first date.

  “Oh, look,” she said. “The snake house.”

  “Not interested,” said Paddy.

  There was no way he was going to look at any snakes. But he felt terrible, like a coward. He could imagine punching the Black Dog in the nose, but he couldn’t look at a snake, or a building that had a snake in it.

  They ran past the lake and the pink flamingos standing beside it. But they didn’t stop to look.

  “This is a zoo—hellohhhoh?”

  “Who said that?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Gloria was running with Ernie.

  “Is it good being a werewolf, Ernie?”

  “Couldn’t tell yeh,” said Ernie. “I’m a vampire.”

  “Oh yeah. Is it any good?”

  “It’s all righ’,” said Ernie. “It’s a bit borin’.”