Free Beyond the Knock Knock Door by Scott Monk Page B

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    She staggered to her feet, winced at the stitch in her side then continued into the thinning undergrowth. ‘Do not.’
    He followed after her. ‘When are you going to admit we’re on a whole different planet? Probably in a whole different galaxy?’
    â€˜ You might be on a different planet, but I’m not.’
    â€˜Then how do you explain this rainforest? Some granny’s overgrown garden?’
    â€˜Okay, so we’re not in the city. The stormwater just – I don’t know – swept us further out than we think.’
    â€˜To where? The Amazon ? One little pipe and – bang! – watch out for piranhas? Are you insane?’
    She turned on him. ‘Look! I know as much as you, all right? But before we start believing in monsters and different planets, let’s find help, okay?’
    Tired of the bickering, Michael drifted away. He watched an owl butterfly warm its wings then spotted a hairy tarsier with big, blinking red eyes. He tossed stones at giant seed pods hanging from the canopy and bolted when they exploded like jumping jacks. He ran his hand over the roots of another strangler fig that twisted and thickened around the trunk of a big-leaf mahogany tree. Soon, those same roots would fully cover and choke it to death. Only the strangler fig would remain.
    Nearby rustling scared him. A creature was wriggling through the leaves. Hesitantly, he stepped forward. When he got close enough, he pulled apart the branches and expected to see a young bird but leapt back in fright. A seahorse – a flying seahorse! – zipped inches in front of his face, beating its little fins like wings. It curved to the right, spooked by the approach of Luke and Samantha, and fluttered upwards into the canopy. ‘Wow!’
    â€˜What’s “wow”?’ Luke asked.
    â€˜Hey, do you smell that?’ Samantha interrupted,catching the hint of a fresh breeze. Toadstools whirled and popped as they ran among the thinning trees and caught glimpses of a green meadow pimpled with stumps and wrinkled with hills. Beyond it, on the horizon, blazed a blue ocean.
    â€˜I don’t see any houses or roads,’ she said, sticking to the shadows of the rainforest. ‘But look there,’ she pointed. Along its edge, red rags fluttered from two hundred trees. Leading up to them, parts of the meadow had been flattened by boots. ‘So much for your aliens.’
    Michael smiled and looked to the canopy. For now, he didn’t have the heart to tell them about the seahorse. They’d call him mad.
    Luke searched the ocean for ships. ‘There might be houses by the beach,’ he suggested.
    Michael led the way, pushing into the meadow. He halted immediately. Something was wrong. Dreadfully wrong.
    His arms and legs were suddenly heavy. He felt too sluggish to move. Glancing down, his breath hitched with alarm. Wherever the sun struck his costume, the gold plastic was hardening into steel!
    His plates of armour glistened. His gauntlets stiffened. The nicks and scratches sealed together. The fake leather straps mended and tightened. His sword weighed down in its scabbard. His tattered red cloak restitched itself into fine cloth with curling gold embroidery. And his chain mail clinked as each row of rings turned solid. Speechless, he flexed his fingers inside his new gauntlets, only to pause when he discoveredeach shoulder guard transforming into the enormous head of a roaring bear. The insignia of a third – fighting and clawing on hindlegs – grew large on his chestplate. And finally, the face of a fourth – with snarling teeth and angry eyes – became his helmet.
    The shock overwhelmed him – not to mention the extra kilograms. ‘ Whoa! ’ He crashed backwards on the grass.
    As his siblings rushed into the sunlight to help him, they too froze.
    Luke’s star ranger uniform aged in reverse. His green and yellow leather jacket and pants