Toad Away - Morris Gleitzman [30]
“I'm sorry,” said Raoul. “I know how you feel. But I have to insist you be our guest.”
Limpy didn't bother struggling.
Pretty soon Goliath would be here to rescue him.
Then, thought Limpy, we'll ditch these wimps and get back to our war.
Come on, Goliath, thought Limpy. I'm sick of waiting. Come and rescue me.
Limpy lifted his head from the pillow of leaves and peered through the forest gloom.
No sign of Goliath.
In the distance Limpy could just make out Raoul and the other cane toads at the edge of their swamp, having a fight with a swarm of giant wasps. The Amazon rellies were obviously crack shots with their poison glands. The wasps were copping it bad.
Please, Goliath, thought Limpy. This is the perfect time to rescue me. While those wimps are all walloping wasps.
Still no sign of Goliath.
For the millionth time, Limpy tried to wriggle out of the creeper knotted around him. No good. Raoul had tied it too tight.
“Mongrel,” muttered Limpy.
He was so angry with Raoul he decided not to feel grateful that Raoul had placed little pads of moss wherever the creeper would have cut into his skin.
Limpy scowled at the distant cane toads.
He wasn't impressed by the Amazon rellies’ squirting skills either. All he wanted to do was get back to what was really important.
Blowing up humans.
If Raoul was a real fighter, thought Limpy grimly, he'd know that commandos don't rest till the war's won. And if he was a real rellie, he'd help me avenge Charm.
“Pssst.”
Limpy looked up and saw a familiar face peering at him out of a tangle of leaves some distance away.
Goliath.
At last.
Limpy's warts tingled with relief.
From the wavy mud streaks on Goliath's face and the way his bottom lip was jutting out, Limpy could tell he was planning a daring rescue.
Except why wasn't Goliath coming over?
Perhaps he's got slug juice in his eyes, thought Limpy, and he's not sure if it's me.
“Goliath,” whispered Limpy. “It's me. Over here.” But Goliath stayed crouched in the undergrowth. He put a finger to his lips and glanced around the forest.
Then he started doing hand signals. Big complicated ones that went on for ages. At first Limpy thought Goliath was saying he had burrowing worms in his armpits and was planning to try and smoke them out using the sun and see-through butterflies.
“Later,” whispered Limpy. “After we've set fire to the oil.”
Goliath shook his head and repeated the hand signal. This time Limpy recognized it. It was the gesture Aunty Pru had given Goliath the time she was teaching philosophy to Charm, and Goliath wanted her to watch how swallowing dragonflies made his tummy ripple.
“Be patient,” the hand signal said. “I'll be with you in a while.”
A while? thought Limpy. Why not now?
“Goliath,” said Limpy. “Untie me now.”
Goliath tried a new hand signal.
“You're going for a swim?” exploded Limpy. “You can't go for a swim now.”
Limpy saw Goliath frown, then give up on the hand signals.
“Hang on, Limpy,” croaked Goliath. “I'm training a special rescue unit to rescue you. They're coming along well for raw jungle recruits, and as soon as they stop eating each other, in a day or two at the most, we'll be coming to liberate you. Hang on.”
“Goliath,” hissed Limpy.“Get over here. The Amazon rellies aren't watching. You don't need a special rescue unit.”
But Goliath had slipped away into the jungle, leaving only a trembling leaf and a glob of mucus with half a maggot in it to show he'd ever been there.
Limpy's warts felt like they were about to explode with frustration.
He glared back over at the Amazon rellies, still busy blasting wasps.
Goliath could have used a chain saw to cut the knots and they wouldn't have noticed.
“Look at that lot,” hissed a voice from somewhere very close. “Are we Amazon toads good squirters, or what?”
Limpy looked round, startled. It wasn't Goliath's voice.
A cane toad appeared from behind a clump of reeds.
Limpy tried not to stare. The cane