Brilliant (16 page)

“Come on!”

They ran after Raymond.

Raymond remembered once, when he'd been here with his
Uncle Ben. He'd had his bike in the back of Uncle Ben's van. They'd taken it out, and Raymond had biked on the bike path. Uncle Ben had timed him, and Raymond had gone a few seconds faster every time. They'd bought ice creams from the snack shop. Raymond could see the shop now, the Costa, just across the road. Then they got back into the van to go home. And Uncle Ben's ice cream had fallen out of his cone, right into his lap, when he was turning left, driving out of the car park. They'd laughed all the way back to Raymond's house. It had just been Raymond and Uncle Ben.

The cloud was getting thicker, and it seemed to be lower in the sky, almost low enough to touch. But none of the kids wanted to touch it. It looked too solid as it rolled and squirmed and slid.

“It's like a snake,” said Alice.

Paddy didn't answer. Even just the word
snake
made his mouth go dry.

Gloria had caught up with Raymond.

“Hey, Rayzer,” she said. “Remember the time we were here with Uncle Ben?”

“No,” said Raymond.

“You do,” said Gloria. “Uncle Ben's ice cream fell into his lap. Remember?”

“You weren't there.”

“Yes, I was.”

They were running right beside the sea, along the path that the grown-ups called the Promenade. The tide was in and the wind was strong, loud and packed with drops of seawater.

“No, you weren't.”

“I was so.”

“You weren't there for the ice cream.”

“Yes, I was.”

“Here,” said Ernie. “Yis can have your ice cream war another time.”

“Sorry, Ernie,” said Raymond. “BRILLIANT!”

Spray from the waves flew at them, like freezing spit. Their faces were sore from the cold.

Damien had dropped back a bit because of his toothache. It was really sore, and he'd been afraid that if he spoke his words would come out like baby talk. But now his face, his whole head, was freezing and numb. It was great.

“My head's a toothache!” he shouted into the wind.

The kids around him laughed and joined in.

“My head's a toothache!”

They watched the dog cloud buckle and twist, becoming less like a cloud, much more like the Dog.

“My head's an earache!”

They were running alongside the sea, but they weren't getting any nearer to the Dog.

“My head's a pancake!”

“Your bum's a face ache!”

But then they came to the wooden bridge that went out to Bull Island, the big beach in the middle of Dublin Bay. Now they could run straight at the Dog. They knew—they felt it: This was the last fight.

The Battle of Clontarf.

Raymond stopped, and waited till all the kids had gathered together. There were thousands of them. Every kid in Dublin seemed to be there and they were all at the wooden bridge, packed together.

Waiting.

Raymond pointed at the Dog and shouted as loud as he could.

“Charge!”

The kids cheered—they all did, and they ran onto the bridge. A long line of children ran over the old wooden boards—
trip, trap, trip, trap.

“Who's that tripping over my bridge?” roared the troll as he climbed out from under the bridge. “Wazzup?”

“We're huntin' dog blood, bud,” said Ernie.

“The Black Dog of Depression?” said the troll.

“That's the one,” said Ernie.

“Cool,” said the troll. “He's been depressing my mammy.”

And he ran beside Ernie.

“How's business?” Ernie asked him.

“Slow enough,” said the troll. “But it should pick up nearer the summer.”

The noise on the bridge was amazing. All those feet stomping on the wood. It made them brave. They sounded like the world's biggest army, even though lots of the feet were very small.

“My tooth's an earache!”

They were off the bridge now. They missed the sound and the bounce of the wood under their feet. They were running on cement and sand now. The sound of their feet was drowned by the roar of the wind and the waves.

They ran past the golf club, past the old changing shelters, straight into the gale and the gloom—

“Brilliant!”

They ran all the way down to the beach. And they stopped. They couldn't run any farther. There was no more land. They were on the edge of Dublin and the Black Dog was right over them.

“What'll we do?”

“Don't know.”

They hadn't really thought about it. How were they going to catch him?

“Anyone bring a ladder?” said Paddy, but not even Alice laughed.

As if the Dog had heard Paddy's joke, strings of cloud twirled slowly and began to look like huge snakes dangling right over him.

And the cloud dropped slowly—it was definitely lower. The sea had disappeared. There was solid, rolling fog in front of them.

But how could they attack him?

It annoyed, and worried, Raymond. They'd come this far and now he couldn't think of anything to do.

“Look,” said Ernie. “He's up to somethin'—see?”

The Dog was turning—the cloud was starting to move. His fur was rolling, growing. A cloud seemed to grow out of the main cloud, and became his head and face. And it was staring back the way they'd come, at the city.

He snarled.

“USELESS.”

The ground seemed to shake under them.

Raymond knew what was happening—he suddenly knew it.

“It's a trap!” he shouted.

The Black Dog had dragged the kids away from the city and now he was going back, to destroy it. He was going to drop down onto the whole city—he was big enough to do it now—and smother it, and all the adults under him. He'd make their lives unbearable. And the kids would be left alone, crowded here on Dollymount Strand, unable to do anything about it, except watch.

They thought they heard a deep, horrible laugh.

“Fooled you,” said the Dog—his voice filled the air. “You thought you were great, didn't you? Chasing me. ‘You're the future.' Have you stopped me, little children?”

They watched the cloud grow and darken. It became an even more definite, solid shape. It was the Black Dog of Depression, the most horrible thing they'd ever seen. The Dog's hairs were thousands of snakes. Their heads—and tongues—were all around him, flicking and sneering.

He was moving away.

“You're all USELESS.”

Gloria knew. If they heard the word again, they'd believe
what the Dog was telling them. They'd lie down on the sand. The sea would roll over them.

One or two of the kids had already started to lie down.

“Shout!” she roared. “Shout! Brilliant!”

The wind grabbed Gloria's words and seemed to stop them from going far. But Suzie heard her.

“Brilliant!”

And so did Alice and Sunday and Precious.

“Brilliant!”

Damien's toothache was back, and worse. He opened his mouth, but the cold air was agony. It went straight for his tooth. But he knew why he was there. He opened his mouth again, took a deep painful breath, and—

“Brilliant!”

All the kids were shouting now.

Every kid shouted—one huge shout.

“BRILLIANT!”

And it was working. The word and what it meant was starting to hit the Black Dog.

“My head's a toothache!”

“BRILLIANT!”

The Dog was curling, buckling. But he was still moving, escaping. He was floating back to the city, and their parents and uncles, big brothers and sisters.

“What'll we do? We can't shout any louder.”

“He's not afraid enough.”

“Ernie!” Raymond shouted.

“Wha'?”

“We're going in.”

“Wha'?!”

The wind was howling. The sand stung their faces, and it was getting even darker.

“We're going in there,” Raymond shouted.

He pointed at the lowest part of the Dog, the fog that was hanging over the sea.

“Right into the Dog,” said Raymond.

“You're jestin',” said Ernie.

“I'm not,” said Raymond.

He wished he was joking. He was asking Ernie to take him into the darkest place there was, the core—the very center—of the Black Dog. The thing that frightened him more than anything else, and the most frightening thing he could possibly do.

“Fair enough,” said Ernie.

He grabbed the back of Raymond's hoodie.

“Anythin' for a laugh,” said Ernie, although he wasn't laughing.

Paddy stepped forward.

“Me as well,” he said.

Paddy looked at the Black Dog. He forced himself to do it. He looked at the thousands of squirming snakes. He could see them all. Waiting for him.

He didn't have to do it.

But he did. Paddy knew why he was there.

Ernie held onto Paddy's collar.

“Here we go.”

Ernie started to drift across the sand.

“Hate this,” he said.

Fast this time, faster—he gathered speed, and the rest of the kids watched as Ernie, with Paddy and Raymond, shot straight at the cloud, and into it.

They waited.

“Keep shouting!” roared Gloria.