Toad Away - Morris Gleitzman [31]
Stack me, thought Limpy.
He'd seen plenty of cane toads with squashed bits, including squashed heads, which this bloke had as well. But he'd never seen anyone with exactly the same squashed leg.
“Do you agree?” said the cane toad. “That Amazon toads are good fighters?”
He gave Limpy either a smile or a scowl. Limpy couldn't be sure because the poor bloke's face was almost flat on one side.
Limpy nodded, partly because it was true and partly because he felt sorry for a person who couldn't even let other people know if he was happy or angry.
“You're right, we are good fighters,” said the cane toad. “Trouble is, we're fighting the wrong enemy. We should be fighting the slimy murderous black-hearted pimply humans.”
Limpy stared at him.
The other cane toad's expression was still hard to work out. Except for his eyes. They were glinting with so much dark hatred they made Limpy shiver.
With delight.
“I agree,” said Limpy.
“I know you do,” said the cane toad. “Wait here. I've got something that will help us do it.”
Limpy strained hopelessly against the creeper knotted around him.
“I'm not going anywhere,” he said.
The very squashed cane toad hopped away into the undergrowth, leaning over a bit so he didn't go into a curve.
Amazing, thought Limpy. He even hops like me.
Soon he reappeared.
Limpy saw he was holding something wet wrapped in a leaf.
The cane toad looked around furtively, checking that the other cane toads were still busy in the distance, and sidled over to Limpy.
“My name is Flatface,” he said. “Do you know why?”
Limpy didn't want to hurt his feelings.
“Um … because … because you always face the street, like a block of flats?”
As soon as Limpy said it, he felt like kicking himself in the bum. An Amazon cane toad probably wouldn't even know what a street was. Or a block of flats.
Flatface didn't seem to have noticed.
“When I was little, a human bulldozer did this,” he said, pointing to his face and leg. “If I hadn't seen the bulldozer at the last moment, it would have killed me.”
“Murdering mongrels,” said Limpy.
“I lay in the mud,” continued Flatface. “Crushed, broken, with insects laughing at me. That's when I vowed revenge on the human species.”
Limpy felt his throat sac tighten.
“I've spent my life planning that revenge,” continued Flatface. “And now I'm ready. Except those fools over there won't give me the help I need.”
Flatface glared across the swamp at the other cane toads, then held the leaf parcel out to Limpy.
“This is the sap of three different jungle vines,” he said. “Mixed together it makes a powerful poison. A tiny amount will kill many humans.”
Limpy stared at the parcel. This was it. Precious ancient knowledge. And it was being handed to him on a leaf.
“It needs one more ingredient,” said Flatface. “Our poison, from our glands. But my glands were crushed. And those idiots won't give me any poison because they're too gutless and wartless to start a war with humans.”
Limpy felt his own glands tingling.
Flatface was staring at him, dark eyes big with hatred.
“You and I,” said Flatface, “working together, can kill many, many humans.”
He started undoing the knots that were holding Limpy.
“Do you like that idea?” he asked softly.
Limpy thought of poor Charm lying under a human bulldozer. Maybe even suffering insect jeers before she died.
He nodded.
He did like that idea.
He liked it very much.
Despite his crook leg, Flatface was a fast hopper. By the time they arrived at the ditch, Limpy was out of breath. So when Flatface pointed out the first lot of humans they were going to kill, Limpy knew why he wasn't feeling quite as joyful about it as he should.
It's because I'm pooped, thought Limpy.
He gasped in some more air through his pores. Then he peered over the edge of the ditch again at the humans in the village.
No, he still wasn't tingling with delight and revenge. In fact, he was starting to have a bad feeling.
Limpy looked at Flatface, wondering how he was