The Paradise Trap Read Online Free PDF Page B

in the distance, a crowd of gibbering, fluorescent skeletons had spilled out of the ghost train.
    ‘Edison!’ Marcus bellowed. ‘You can’t stay here! It’s a trick! It’s not real! Edison! ’
    He swatted away the fluffy pink kangaroo that was trying to plaster itself to his face. Plush animals were piling up around his body like a multi-coloured snowdrift; there were sheep and tigers and dolphins and zebras and ducks and bees and teddy bears, all snuggling up to each other.
    It occurred to him that, if he didn’t move, he was going to suffocate under half a tonne of fake fur. So he retreated a few steps, kicking kittens and punching puppies.
    That was when he spotted the ferris wheel, which was rolling across the grass towards him.
    ‘Bye, Edison!’ Marcus squawked, before dashing away at top speed. He didn’t think twice. He didn’t look back. He simply charged along, shaking off fluffy animals and telling himself that this was all a bad dream – that the Edison he’d left in the dodgem car didn’t really exist.
    Then a dreadful thought struck him. Would the exit still be there?
    Oh, please , he prayed, please, please let it still be there!
    And it was. As he careened past the fairy-floss stand, he caught sight of a shadowy rectangle piercing the brick wall up ahead. This wedge of darkness was the door to the cellar; Marcus recognised the rickety staircase that was visible just beyond its battered wooden frame. So he swerved towards it, dimly conscious of the heavy rumble pursuing him.
    He was short of breath. His heart was thumping. His legs were hurting. Upon finally reaching the threshold, he threw himself across it in a diving tackle.
    WHOMP! The door slammed shut.
    Marcus lay on the cellar floor. ‘Aah . . . aah . . . aah,’ he panted. Everything was dark and silent. He could smell only damp earth and mould.
    It took him a moment to realise that he’d dropped his torch somewhere inside his hallucination.

10
    GETTING HELP
    M ARCUS DIDN ’ T DARE OPEN THE CELLAR DOOR AGAIN . Instead he staggered upstairs, looking for Edison. Surely the real Edison hadn’t been left behind in that bright red dodgem car? Surely he was lying unconscious near the gas leak, gripped by hallucinations of his own?
    But the caravan was empty. There was no smell of gas. And when Marcus checked outside, he couldn’t see Edison anywhere.
    The only familiar face that he could see belonged to the little white dog.
    ‘Oh, man . . .’ Marcus groaned, as the white dog yipped and grinned and danced about. It followed him all the way back to the beach, never once stopping to lift its leg or sniff at a car tyre. Even though Marcus ran the whole distance, from one end of the park to the other, his little white companion somehow managed to keep up.
    By the time Marcus reached the Huckstepps’ place, he was shaking and sweating. ‘Is Edison home?’ he demanded, when Prot answered his knock.
    ‘You are not authorised to receive that information,’ the robot replied.
    ‘ Edison! ’ Marcus shouted. ‘ Hey, Edison! ’ He was desperate to hear the younger boy’s voice.
    ‘Please wait here,’ said Prot. But Marcus ignored this request. He lurched past the robot into the vestibule. ‘ Edison! ’ he cried. ‘ Can you hear me? ’
    ‘No dogs,’ the robot warned. ‘No dogs allowed.’ At that very instant, a cat emerged from the living room; there was a volley of angry barks, followed by a feline hiss of outrage.
    Marcus grabbed the dog before it could launch itself at the cat.
    ‘Choo-choo?’ Coco’s high-pitched call drifted into the vestibule. ‘Darling? What’s wrong?’
    ‘No dogs allowed,’ Prot repeated.
    ‘I know that! Jeez! I heard you already!’ Marcus grappled with the dog, shoving it back outside just as Coco entered the room. Prot shut the front door so quickly that Marcus nearly lost a hand.
    ‘What’s going on?’ asked Coco. ‘Was that a dog I heard?’
    ‘Don’t worry. It’s gone,’ Marcus assured