SuperZero (school edition) Read online

  Rats.

  Daniel Dundee cracked his knuckles and started shuffling toward Zed, like a gorilla who has found a banana in the jungle.

  Zed’s body froze, but his mind was working at super-speed. The bushes at his back were not deep but they were thick and tangly. Daniel Dundee would be on him before he could break clear. Behind Daniel Dundee and the row of trees the ground dropped down sharply, some forty or fifty metres, to the lower field.

  Daniel Dundee took another step forward. He was even bigger than Zed remembered, and there was a strange glint in his piggy eyes.

  Zed raised his hands, palms open in surrender, but instead of backing away he stepped forward.

  “Look,” he said, “I’m really sorry, I think there’s some misunderstand­ing …”

  Suddenly, with a bend of his knees, Zed leapt into the air. He gripped Daniel Dundee’s right shoulder with his own right hand and swung his right elbow forward as hard as he could. Zed was in midair when his forearm smashed into Daniel Dundee’s throat.

  The throat is the most vulnerable part of an attacker.

  The words echoed in his head. Where had he learnt that? Batman? The Punisher? Luke Cage, Power Man?

  Daniel Dundee dropped to his knees, making a wheezing sound.

  He vaulted off Daniel Dundee’s stooped shoulders, catching hold of one of the tree branches and swinging forward, twisting in the air to land on the very edge of the drop to the lower field. Below him the grassy bank fell away almost sheer.

  Zed caught his breath. The blood sang through his body. Behind him Daniel Dundee lurched heavily to his feet, grunting.

  I can do anything! thought Zed wildly. I am a superhero. I can do anything!

  Zed didn’t look back, but spread out his arms and lifted his head and launched himself forward, off the grassy bank, out into the air.

  I’m flying!

  The ground disappeared and his body was suspended in the sky like a gull’s.

  I’m flying, he thought again. He opened his mouth to shout it out: “I’m fly …”

  That’s when he hit the ground.

  Later, when he was washing sand and grass from his mouth, he would think: I learnt two very important things today. One: I can’t fly. Two: If you’re going to land face down in the dirt, you should do it with your mouth closed.

  Fortunately, Zed hadn’t dived all the way down – he had simply dived headfirst down the bank and ploughed into it, bounced once and continued downwards, like a riderless surfboard falling down the face of a wave. Then he hit a clump of ferns and tumbled and bounced before fetching up in a heap of arms and legs.

  Zed lay there and whimpered. For a few minutes the sky seemed red, then mustard-coloured, and then gradually it returned to blue. Zed whimpered again.

  “Come, boy. Don’t cry.”

  A pair of hands pulled him upright. He smelt sweat and tobacco and cut grass. Above him Daniel Dundee was silhouetted against the skyline, looming ominously. A figure in blue overalls stepped past him and shook a fist at the silhouette.

  “Hayi! Suka! Hamba wena!”

  The fearsome outline seemed to hesitate. Its fists clenched, then it turned and disappeared from the lip of the embankment.

  Zed sat and slowly gathered himself. It took some time for the sky and the earth to stop spinning. “Thank you,” he said at last.

  “I’m Jerome,” said the man. ‘I’m the caretaker here at the school.”

  “Ngiyabonga, baba,” said Zed.

  Jerome helped him to his feet, throwing another look up the embankment. “That one is no good,” he said, shaking his head.

  Zed nodded, testing his limbs to see if anything was missing.

  “I saw him,” said Jerome. “That night.”

  Zed looked up sharply. “What night?”

  “Saturday night,” said Jerome, mopping his brow with his sleeve. “Before the fire.” He nodded in the direction of the caretaker’s rooms. “It was dark, but I saw him. Outside the gates. I knew then there was trouble.”

  “Do you think it was him who started the fire?’

  Jerome didn’t answer, but his face seemed to darken.

  “There has been trouble at this school,” he said. ‘There is something bad at this school. I could feel it. And when the fire came – I wasn’t surprised.”

  Zed felt that same shiver pass through him that he’d felt earlier.

  Zed left by the bottom gate and walked the long way home. He bundled his grass-stained shirt into the back of the cupboard where his mom might not find it for a while, and brushed his teeth, then brushed them again, but he could still taste grass and sand. His whole body ached. He was too tired even to go to the garage and read more comics.

  There was a rattle against his window. Katey was balancing on the fence outside, throwing pebbles. She jumped down and landed neatly in his yard, like Catwoman. She should be the superhero, he thought glumly. She’d be much better than me.

  “Hey, Katey,” he said.

  “Zed! Why aren’t you dressed?”

  “For what?”

  “You haven’t forgotten the circus tonight, right?”

  The circus!

  For weeks they’d been looking forward to Buckman’s New-Worlde Circus. It wasn’t the usual kind of circus, with animals and trapezes and that sort of thing. Richard Finucchio had heard that there were bearded ladies and people who could swallow red-hot coals and Carvella, the world’s fattest woman.

  His mom had given permission, and Katey’s folks were going to drop them off and pick them up, and Zed had been as excited about it as anyone. But now he just felt tired and sore, and he wanted to be alone to think about what had happened, and think about the fire at the school, and Daniel Dundee, and he wanted to think about being a superhero …

  “Zed! You’re not thinking about flaking out of it, are you? I need someone to go with me!”

  “What about Ulric Chilvers?” said Zed. “He’d go with you.”

  “I don’t want to go with him,” said Katey. “I want to go with you.”

  After reading

  4.

  Why do you think that Katey giggles – something she never does – when she first meets Ulric?

  5.

  Zed appears to be losing confidence in his own superhero status. Why? Which super-powers does he not have so far?

  6.

  What history is there between Zed and Daniel Dundee?

  7.

  What does Zed learn about Bighton School from Jerome, the caretaker? Does this surprise you or not?

  8.

  What is different about Buckman’s New-Worlde Circus?

  9.

  What makes Zed say that Katey should go to the circus with Ulric Chilvers instead of him?

  10.

  Write down an example of onomatopoeia from the first page of this chapter.

  11.

  What does the expression “he couldn’t put his finger on it” mean?

  Before reading

  1.

  What are usually the main attractions at a circus?

  2.

  What does a medium/spiritual consultant do?

  While reading

  3.

  What makes Ulric’s behaviour suspicious?

  4. A night at the circus

  The circus was pitched on an open field. There was one large white tent all strung around with electric bulbs, and rows of booths and stalls and a brass band playing circus music. People milled around eating candyfloss or hot dogs or toffee apples.

  “Step up, folks!” boomed a man in a spangled red coat and high shiny boots and top hat. He carried a metal funnel that made his voice boom and echo. “Don’t be afraid! This way for the greatest show on earth!”

  He was the Great Buckman. Zed stared at him. Imagine owning your own circus. No homework, no teachers, and no one ever thinking you’re weird. In a circus everyone is weird.

  They made their way through the growing crowd to see Son of Sam, the World’s Stronge
st Man. They watched as he asked five people to sit on a bench, and then lifted them over his head. Everyone applauded wildly, but Zed’s hands froze in mid-clap, staring at the crowd facing him. There, clapping hands the size of wicketkeepers’ gloves, was Daniel Dundee.

  Daniel Dundee hadn’t seen him yet, so Zed spun on his heel and without even telling Katey he was going, slipped away into the crowd.

  He pushed through the press of bodies and broke clear to find himself in front of a stall – a wooden booth with a frayed curtain in scarlet-and-gold velvet stretched across the front. On the sign above the curtain was written:

  Madame Hoblidaya, the Happy Medium

  Spiritual Consultant Fortunes Told! Futures Divined! Sooths Said!

  Inside a woman sat on a low stool at a round table, wearing a purple turban with a glittering white stone set in the centre. On the table was a glass ball. She looked up eagerly.

  “Come in! Come!” she said. “Madame Hoblidaya is available for consultation!”

  Zed stepped inside gratefully, pulling closed the curtain behind him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want a consultation. I just want to … there’s someone out there that …”

  Zed’s voice trailed away. Madame Hoblidaya had enormous cat-like eyes, ringed with black lines of kohl that made them seem even bigger. Her lips were bright crimson and she wore silver earrings set with deep green stones.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “You can sit here with me as long as you like.”

  Even up close it was hard to tell how old she was. She sat very still, watching Zed.

  “I don’t get many visitors nowadays,” said Madame Hoblidaya at last. “No one wants to learn their futures any more. Maybe I can tell you something about yourself?”

  “No, thank you,” said Zed politely. “I don’t really believe in …”

  Madame Hoblidaya took Zed’s hand. Despite the warm evening, her hands were icy. She ran her fingers across it, never taking her eyes from his face.

  “There is something …” she paused, frowning. Her voice grew low and puzzled. “Your future is magnificent. And terrible. There is a great burden that grows greater and greater. You may choose to resist, but you can’t. It is your destiny.”

  They sat in silence in the low light of the stall, listening to the voices and laughter outside, the oohs and aahs and scattered applause. It seemed Madame Hoblidaya wanted to say something but wasn’t sure precisely what.

  “I think I’d better go find my friend now …” said Zed.

  “You must come see me again,” said Madame Hoblidaya. “There are things you must be told.” She leaned closer. “Be careful tonight! There is danger afoot!”

  Zed smiled weakly, and slipped outside into the buzz and crackle of the crowd.

  “There you are!” Katey swooped on him brandishing two sticks of pink candyfloss.

  They made their way with the throng to the entrance of the tent. Inside was a ring surrounded by several tiers of rickety wooden stands. Zed loved the smell – the sawdust and sugar and salt and possibility. Anything might happen at the circus.

  They found their seats and sat watching the crowd.

  “Oh,” said Katey. “Look who’s here.”

  Zed looked. Coming through a far entrance, smoothing back his flowing hair, was Ulric Chilvers. Zed frowned. He was sipping from a yellow can … where had Zed seen …?

  Katey waved at him across the tent, and Ulric saw them and smiled coolly, and his bright green eyes seemed to glow like Madame Hoblidaya’s earrings.

  Zed realised what was familiar about Ulric Chilvers’ cooldrink. It was a yellow can of Iced Tea, just like the can he had found behind the bushes at Bighton Primary. The can that someone had been drinking from during his mysterious conference with Daniel Dundee.

  Just then there was a great drum roll and circles of red and green light danced across the ring. A boom and a gust of white smoke, and there was the Great Buckman, carrying a long, black lacquered cane with a silver handle.

  “Greetings!” he boomed, his voice echoing around the tent. “And welcome! I am the Great Buckman! I have gathered for you tonight, a collection of strange monsters and freaks of nature to terrify and amaze you-ou-ou!”

  The crowd hooted and stamped their feet. Katey nudged Zed and beamed. This was her kind of show.

  First up was Sello the Human Cell. An enormous glass tank was wheeled out with a satin robe over the top, and then an enormous glass light bulb, the size of his head.

  “Behold Sello, the Human Cell-ell-ell!” boomed the Great Buckman. “Sello’s body is one gigantic lightning rod! Witness Sello use his gifts to channel electrical energy-gy-gy!”

  Sello weighed the enormous light bulb in his hands. One of the assistants pulled back the satin robe from the tank. The audience gasped. The tank was filled with water, and the water writhed with a mass of silver-grey shapes, twisting and turning and slopping the water.

  “Electric eels! Just one can generate enough current to stun a jaguar!”

  Before their very eyes Sello the Human Cell, still holding the enormous light bulb, stepped into the tank. There was a great flashing and buzzing, and the eels churned round his powerful legs. Sello tilted back his head and placed the metal attachment of the bulb in his mouth. Slowly the filament began to glow red and then white.

  “Sello the Human Cell is channelling the electricity from the eels!” declared the Great Buckman. “But be warned – if you should find yourself in an Amazon swamp, do not try this yourself! You will be fried like an egg on Sunday morning! Mwha-hahahaha!”

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” echoed the Great Buckman’s voice.

  And so the show went on. There were strongmen and blindfolded knife-throwers and women who dived from a high platform into just a bucket of water, and then Kimito the Reptile Wrangler, with her horrifying range of snakes and horned dragons and crocodiles. With infinite care she put them through their repertoire. The best part came when the boa constrictor seem­ed about to swallow a beach ball, but then headed it over to the Komodo dragon who dribbled it past the armadillo and into a small soccer goal.

  “Armadillos aren’t reptiles, are they?” Zed whispered to Katey.

  “Watch the show!” Katey whispered back.

  “And now-ow-ow,” boomed the Great Buckman, “for the last act before our interval we will require a volunteer from the audience.”

  Everyone looked around expectantly. Kimito was still in the ring, her dark hair tied up with silver sparkly ribbons, her face tattooed all over with lizard scales. The other reptiles had been taken away, leaving only an enormous crocodile, all grey and green and greasy. Kimito prodded it with a wooden pole and it turned with a hiss, snapping its jaws with a sound like a drawer of cutlery slamming. The Great Buckman stood on a stepladder, well out the way.

  No one was very keen to volunteer to step into the ring.

  “Aww!” boomed the Great Buckman. “Surely one of you is made of the right stuff? Huh?”

  “I am!”

  Zed turned in horror: “Katey! No!”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Zed,” said Katey over her shoulder, picking her way down the stand, but he was on his feet too, making his way down after her.

  There is danger afoot!

  “Step into the ring, young lady!” boomed the Great Buckman, and Katey was helped over the low wooden rail. The crocodile thrashed in her direction. Zed crouched fearfully on the audience side. There was another voluneteer as well, a blonde lady from the front row.

  Kimito stood in front of the crocodile, swaying and waving her hands as though she were conducting an orchestra. It watched her hands as though they were frozen chickens.

  Kimito lopened her arms, and obediently the crocodile opened its great jaws. Wider and wider it opened, teeth glistening in the lights, its mouth a horrible pink and green.

  Slowly Kimito bent down. She hesitated, just a moment. Then she put her head inside its open mouth. The audience held its breath. One … two … three … f
our … Kimito drew back her head and as she did the jaws clashed shut and the audience broke into frenzied applause. Zed gasped with relief, but not for long.

  “Now your turn, ladies!” boomed the Great Buckman from his stepladder.

  “What!”

  Katey flashed Zed a smile and swung her ponytail. “Don’t worry,” she said.

  For the first time ever, Zed wished Katey wasn’t so much like Katey.

  Zed watched anxiously as she stepped forward, a pace or two behind the grown-up woman. Then suddenly, in slow motion, as though he were falling down the hill on his bicycle again, he saw everything start to go wrong.

  As they stepped forward there was a pop and a camera flash from the crowd. The crocodile reared toward it, and its swinging tail swept Kimito’s legs from under her.

  “Whoah!” shouted the Great Buckman from his stepladder. “Whoah, there …”

  But his voice seemed only to enrage it – the tail thrashed against the ladder. Splintered wood went flying and the Great Buckman toppled headlong, hitting the ground with a loud “Whoomph!”, rolling, scrambling to get away from those terrible jaws and that terrible tail.

  But the crocodile was not interested in the Great Buckman. It paused, swinging its head between Katey and the shrieking woman.

  Only when he felt the sawdust shifting beneath his trainers did Zed realise he had vaulted the wooden barricade and was running toward the crocodile.

  Zed leapt. He landed crosswise over the back of the crocodile, and clung on as it reared and bucked and whipped, trying to reach him. The jutting scales of its back ground against his ribs. There were screams now all around, people diving everywhere. Something went fizzzz and a gust of smoke swirled everything in white, stinging his eyes and burning his throat, but still he clung on. He lay full-length on the crocodile, arms wrapped around its neck, heels digging in on either side.

  The crocodile had forgotten everything else now. It only cared about throwing off the rider and getting him between its jaws. As it bucked and thrashed, Zed’s grip weakened. The scales of the reptile were slick and wet and he could barely hold on.