The Bare Bum Gang and the Valley of Doom (9 page)

I'm about to cut to a new scene now, like they do in the movies. I'm going
to use my imagination to pretend that I am Noah, back about ten minutes ago,
waiting up above the Valley of Doom.

Oh, I wonder what's happening with brave old
Ludo hiding high up in that giant oak tree
(this
is meant to be Noah thinking – I'll do all
his thinking in slanty writing, so you can
tell).
I do wish he'd call again on the walkietalkie.
Oh, how nice, a pretty birdie flying by.
Ah, look, what a nice flower.

'I'm sick of waiting here,' says Jamie.

'Me too,' says Jenny. 'And these really stink.'

She's holding out her high-powered water rifle.

But it isn't filled with water. It's filled with Ludo's
superb new Special Mixture Number Eight, the
most lethal and toxic yet. We are all heavily
armed. We each have two pistols and one rifle. This
is all part of Ludo's brilliant plan.
(I told you
it was brilliant – see, even Noah agrees.)

'I think this is all stupid,' moans The
Moan. 'In fact I think this is worse than stupid. It's
plain dumb. I don't know why we're here. Ludo's
been thrown out of the Gang, and we all know
he'll do anything to get back in it. I reckon this
is all just a big trick. And where's Alfie anyway?
I know he's turned out to be a bit of a flop, but
he's still in the Gang.'

'You'll see,' says Noah wisely.
I mean I say,
because
I'm
Noah.

Then I hear the walkie-talkie start to crackle,
which means Ludo's one is transmitting.

'Listen up, everyone,' I say. 'It's beginning.
Everything will become clear.'

And the others all gather closer. We all hear the
sound of the walkie-talkie being lowered through
the branches. And then we hear voices.

'That's Dockery,' says Jenny.

'And that's Alfie,' says Jamie.

And we hear everything they say. The whole
dastardly story of deceit and lies and nastiness.
I look at their faces. First they are blank, then
amazed, then angry, then furious.

Then we hear the tumbling crunching sound of
poor brave Ludo falling out of the tree, and a few
seconds later there's his courageous voice saying,
'Noah, attack! Attack now! Give them everything
you've got.'

That makes me proud to be Ludo's second-in-command
again.

Jamie and Jennifer want to charge straight
down. But I say, 'Softly softly catchee monkey,'
or something like that because I know lots of
good sayings. So then I lead them carefully round
behind the Dockery mob, keeping to the bushes
and undergrowth. There is one bad moment when
Jamie steps in some kind of poo – probably weasel,
or possibly stoat – but he wipes it off on a handy
chocolate wrapper, and we're off again.

A few metres away we spot them. Dockery,
William Stanton, James Furbank, Paul Larkin,
Carl Hughes, the whole gang. They have their
backs to us. Ludo is facing them, looking as
brave as Spider-man, Batman, Superman and
Wonderwoman combined. I don't mean he looks
a bit like a woman, I just mean he looks as brave
as her.

Then I see something surprising. Naughty Alfie
is next to Ludo. They are being pushed remorselessly
back towards the terrifying torrent that is
the Great Grey-Green Greasy Limpopo River.
They teeter on the edge. It's now or never.

'Chaaaaaaarge!'

'Chaaaaaarge,' yelled Noah, sounding not
a bit like himself.

Noah was basically the nicest boy in the
world, but now he sounded like a manic
Samurai warrior crossed with King Kong
with a dash of rabid wolverine thrown in
for good measure.

And he wasn't just shouting 'Charge', he
was actually charging as well. And the rest
of the Bare Bum Gang were with him,
in all their magnificent glory. Jennifer was
next, her face exactly like a picture of
an Amazon girl warrior I'd seen in my
book of legends. Then came Jamie, who,
as Gang General, should probably have
been leading the charge. But he wasn't a
very fast runner, or a fast thinker, so he
was usually better off following where
others led. And last came The Moan, not
moaning, but shouting his head off like the
rest of them. And as they charged they let
loose a volley from their heavy artillery –
the water cannons, pumped up to maximum
power.

Dockery and his gang spun round at the
first scream of 'Charge'. The tremendous
spectacle of the attacking Bare Bum Gang
made them stagger back, their faces filled
with shock and awe.

Then Dockery started to laugh. 'Oh, it's
only that bunch of wimps,' he said.

'Yeah,' sneered Larkin, 'with their icklewickle
water pistols.'

'Let's bash 'em,' growled Firbank.

'And mash 'em,' added Stanton.

'This is perfect,' said Dockery. 'Like lambs
to the slaughter. We can get the whole lot
of them together.'

Then it hit them.

Now, the Super Soaker Aqua-Shock
HydroBlitz packs a decent punch, but on
its own it wouldn't take out a big oaf like
Dockery. Not filled with water.

But the water cannon and pistols weren't
filled with water, but Special Mixture
Number Eight. I'd realized the fatal flaw
in our first plan to attack the Dockery den.
The delivery system, meaning the balloons,
just wasn't reliable enough. But I'd fixed
that now.

You could definitely smell the streams
of foulness before they hit you. It was as if
the smelliest tramp in the world had come
and sat next to you on the bus and then
rammed your nose into his armpit. No, it
was worse than that, because this was wet
and soaked you and there was no escaping
it. It was a tidal wave of stink.

The Bare Bum Gang aimed well, zapping
every one of the Dockery mob. The
trouble was that Alfie and I were standing
right behind them, so we also got hit, but
not too badly. Even so, I nearly fainted
with the foulness of it, and Alfie fell onto
all fours and looked like he was going to
throw up.

You can imagine how much worse it was
for the Dockery Gang. They got it right in
their faces, in their open mouths, in their
ears. It was carnage. All you could hear
were their screams and wails as they waved
their hands in front of their faces in a futile
attempt to fend off the deadly flood.

But Dockery wasn't quite finished yet.
Bellowing like a bull, he pushed forward
against the blast, using nothing but his
brutish strength. Horrible though he was,
I had to admire the courage of my
opponent. It looked like he was going to
reach Noah, whose stream from his rifle
was now a dribble, before he had the chance
to switch to a pistol. That would have been
a disaster – if he reached Noah we'd have
to surrender to save him from getting a
terrible bashing.

'Here!' yelled Jenny, and threw me her
spare weapon, a Max Infusion Flash Flood.
I caught it in one hand, did a forward
roll through the middle of the Dockery
formation, spun and took careful aim.

The Flash Flood hasn't got the raw
power of the HydroBlitz, but it's way more
accurate. I'll let others claim it's a girl's
weapon – I prefer to describe it as a
precision instrument, designed for pinpoint,
scientific squirting. I fired a stream straight
up Dockery's nose and into his brain.

That finished him. He stopped dead in
his tracks. His eyes went blank. Then he
collapsed backwards, squashing two of the
others.

'Cease fire!' I commanded.

The battle was won. Dockery and the
others dragged themselves away, gagging
and spluttering, wailing like babies who had
lost their dummies.

The Bare Bum Gang all gathered round.
They were exhausted from the fight, and
they'd all suffered from the terrible stink
power of Special Mixture Number Eight.
There was something else in their faces as
well; something that held them back from
celebrating the victory.

It was Jenny who spoke first.

'We're really sorry,' she said meekly. 'We
should have believed you and not him.'

She pointed to the side of the Great
Grey-Green Greasy Limpopo River where
Alfie was still cowering. I'd completely
forgotten about him.

'Will you be our Gang Leader again, like
the Olden Days?'

'Of course I will,' I said, and I couldn't
stop myself from grinning. 'If that's what
you all want.'

'YES!' they all shouted.

'I'm sorry too,' said Alfie, looking up at
me.

'Tell us the truth, Alfie,' I said to him in
a level voice. 'You spied on us and told
Dockery we were coming, and which route
we were taking, didn't you?'

He nodded.

'And then you rescued us, so you could
look like a hero, didn't you?'

'I only wanted to be friends,' he said sadly.
'I wanted to be in your gang more than
anything. And I didn't mean all that bad
stuff to happen. It just all got out of
control.'

'But you did steal the sweets and blame
it on me, didn't you?' I asked, more sternly.
'You crammed the papers in my binocular
case when we weren't looking.'

Alfie didn't answer. He just looked down,
his lip started to quiver and he began to
cry.

'What a horrible little creep,' sighed The
Moan. 'I say we push him in the stream
and throw stones at him to teach him a
lesson.'

'Good idea,' said Jamie. 'Not stones, though,
just mud.'

I looked at little Alfie, all pale and alone,
and I felt sorry for him. It's hard moving
to a new place and trying to make friends.
We've all made mistakes and done things
we regret.

'I don't think we should do anything
horrible to him,' I said after I'd thought
for a moment. 'Everyone deserves a second
chance.'

'You're not going to let him in the Gang, are
you?' said Jenny. 'Not after all he's done?'

'No way,' I replied. 'He can go and join
the Commandos. I'll tell Declan he's OK.'

That was actually quite a cunning plan.
The Commandos weren't our enemies, but
they were still our rivals. I liked the idea of
them having a rubbish gang member, which
would make them much less cool.

You have to be clever like that when you're
a Gang Leader.

Alfies topped
crying and mumbled,
'Thanks.'

'You can go now,' I
said.

As he ran away, The
Moan gave him a
quick squirt of Special
Mixture Number Eight
up the backside.

'I don't know about you lot,' I said, 'but
I'm going home for a bath. I smell like
something that's been scraped off the floor
in the zoo.'

Everyone laughed, and we set off out of
the Valley of Doom.

I found myself walking next to Noah. I
put my arm around his shoulders. 'Thanks,'
I said. 'You were magnificent.'

He looked up at me, and I thought we were
about to have some more tears, but happy
ones this time. But he pulled himself together,
remembering
that crying is still
mainly suitable
for girls.

'Welcome
back,' he said.
'Welcome back.'