Part 7
A mobile, temporary classroom was delivered to Pokey Oaks Kindergarten on Tuesday. It arrived in two halves on the back of two large trucks and had to be bolted together by a trio of workmen who spent a good part of their time making drinks and talking to, chatting-up and talking about Ms. Keane, much to that lady's annoyance. It was ready for use on Wednesday, and the new surroundings caused the children a great deal of excitement. Ms. Keane added to the entertainment by declaring the classroom to be inadequately heated, telling the kids that they could wear their outdoor clothes during lessons, and, for a while, until heat stroke got the better of them, she found herself teaching a class of what appeared to be refugees from Captain Scott's last trip to the Antarctic.
All three Powerpuff Girls were glad to get back to school. They had spent a thoroughly miserable Tuesday indoors, trapped by driving rain. Not that Blossom or Bubbles had particularly felt like doing anything. They both had hardly spoken a word all day. Only Buttercup had wandered back and forth from room to room like a caged animal. She had found it particularly hard to deal with as both her sisters seemed to be able to entertain themselves, whilst she was totally bored – which, of course, just made her unreasonably annoyed with them. She had done little things to upset them, like throwing toys at them, until they shouted at her, at which point she had gone off in a sulk to vegetate in front of the TV, where she had been joined later in the day by a still quiet Bubbles. Blossom had spent much of the day reading her encyclopaedias and staring through the window at the grey scene outside. The Blossom "I'm So Smart" Encyclopaedia Set had been one of a range of products produced in Townsville to capitalise on the Powerpuff Girls' fame, and Blossom had been presented with a set by the manufacturers. This gloomy Tuesday, though, she hadn't felt very smart. Leafing through the pages without really reading them, she had a horrible, sick feeling in her stomach and a shaky, almost feverish sensation in her limbs. It hadn't been an illness that had brought on these symptoms, it had been a terrible feeling that things she believed in and had based her life around were all false, most particularly the belief that she knew what she was doing, that she had some sort of understanding of the role she and her sisters had in life. She was beginning to think that, far from understanding, she actually knew nothing at all.
It was shortly before the mid-morning recess on Wednesday that Ms. Keane received a call on her mobile phone. She usually switched it off when she was at school, so that classes would not be disrupted, but some impulse had led her to leave it operational today. With the class looking on with interest, she answered the call.
'Hello, Blossom?' said the caller.
'No. Who is this?' replied Ms. Keane.
'Is that you Blossom?'
'No, this is Ms. Keane. Is that the Mayor?'
'No, I don't want the Mayor, I want Blossom.'
'Just a minute Mayor,' said Ms. Keane. She passed the telephone to Blossom.
'Hello, Mayor, this is Blossom,' said Blossom.
'Who? Is that Ms. Keane?' replied the Mayor.
'No, this is Blossom. Did you want something, Mayor?'
'I did want something, yes. Now what was it? Yes! A pizza! Oh, no, that was last night. Now, what was it? Give me a clue, Blossom.'
At this point, fortunately, Sara Bellum's voice came through.
'Blossom? Sorry, the Mayor is having one of his less than lucid days today. He has some difficulty understanding that he has to phone you on the normal telephone rather than the hot line. We need your help urgently. Apparently some sort of creature has come out of the river and has attacked people. Hurry, girls!'
Blossom pressed the button to terminate the call and handed the phone back to Ms. Keane.
'Well?' said Buttercup, impatiently.
'There's some sort of monster attacking the city,' said Blossom, flatly.
'Well, let's go!'
'Yeah, I suppose. Is it all right if we go and fight the monster, Ms. Keane?' asked Blossom without enthusiasm.
'Er… Well, yes, of course,' replied Ms. Keane, astonished.
Bubbles and Buttercup stood up to crash their way out of the classroom in the normal fashion, but to their surprise, Blossom floated slowly across the room. They followed and the three of them left the classroom by the door. As usual, once outside they soared into the sky, but very soon Buttercup, once again out in front and keen to get to grips with the monster, noticed that Blossom was lagging behind.
'Hey!' she shouted, 'What are you doing? Come on!'
Blossom caught up a little, but soon dropped back again. Somehow, the fact that she was a Powerpuff Girl, and was setting out again, as so many times before, to rid her town of evil, had lost its lustre. She had built her life around this role – or, at least, her life had been built around this role – and, suddenly, it didn't mean anything to her. Out of the blue, the feeling that had buoyed her up and made her life seem so worthwhile had fallen away almost unnoticed like a lost handkerchief, and the strange thing was that even now she felt no sense of loss. She had spent the whole of that rainy, miserable Tuesday trying to hold onto something that she knew in her heart had already gone, and the final acceptance of its absence was more of a relief than anything else, a relief that brought on only a general feeling of apathy. Saving Townsville had become a chore, something that overnight had become a part of her past, something she would rather forget.
Buttercup led the way in the search for the reported monster. Following the course of the river, the girls flew over Townsville's newly-redeveloped business district, a part of the city that that so hemmed in the water with towers and skyscrapers that it scarcely seemed to have room to breathe, and left it looking more like a tame canal than a river. It was a very impersonal, some might say inhuman, part of the city, with such open spaces as still existed there left merely to enhance visitors' impressions of the corporate opulence of the crystal glass towers. It was not an area that encouraged casual bystanders, so when the girls spotted a crowd of people in one of the open squares, a crowd that seemed to be gathered around a dark blob on the ground, they swooped down to investigate. When they landed, they could see that the blob was clearly a human body, covered by a coat.
'Powerpuff Girls!' shouted a policeman.
The crowd turned to look at the three little girls.
'Somebody's been killed,' continued the policeman, running over to the girls, 'Some horrible sort of monster seems to have done it, though the only witnesses we have only caught a glimpse of it. Do you think you can find it and stop it?'
'Of course,' said Buttercup, 'There's no monster we can't handle.'
'What shall we do, Blossom?' asked Bubbles.
Blossom shrugged. 'Look for clues, I suppose,' she said.
'Let's take a look at the body,' said Buttercup, casting a puzzled glance at Blossom.
'I don't think that'd be a good idea,' said the policeman, 'It's… not very nice.'
'We can take it,' said Buttercup, folding her arms, 'We've seen some things in our time.'
'Well, if you're sure…'
The policeman, looking very uncertain, took the girls over to the body. With the crowd looking on in morbid fascination, he pulled back the overcoat that had been draped over the corpse. There was a collective gasp of horror from the crowd. Bubbles put her arms to her face and quickly looked away. Buttercup turned a shade of green and swallowed hard. Blossom was horrified by what she saw, but couldn't take her eyes from the ghastly face of the corpse. The man's head was bloated and swollen, covered in black and purple blotches as if he'd been beaten to death; but that wasn't all. Parts of his skin had split and protruding through was a bulbous, slimy green vegetable-like material covered in spines, like some sort of disgusting cactus. Even as they watched, there was movement there, as if this horrible thing were alive.
'Do you know what it is?' asked the policeman, putting the coat back over the ghastly remains of the victim, 'Have you seen anything like this before?'
Buttercup shook her head.
'No,' said Blossom, collecting her wits, 'But it's got to be stopped. Girls, look over there!'
She pointed across the square, to where yet another skyscraper was under construction. Around the building site, a high screen made of plywood sheets had been erected, and on this screen Blossom's super-sensitive vision had detected a faint mark. The other girls saw it too.
'It's a sort of slime trail,' said Buttercup.
'Ugh!' said Bubbles, who was feeling sick.
'I know it's horrible, girls, but we've got to stop this thing before it kills anyone else,' said Blossom.
The three little girls glanced at one another briefly for moral support, then flew across the square and up over the fence. Behind was a typical building site scene, a wilderness of churned-up sandy-coloured mud surrounding a tall tower which was being constructed in concrete. Strangely, there seemed to be no-one about. Enormous yellow machines stood idle, piles of sand and gravel patiently awaited use, a bonfire of odd scraps and lengths of wood piled jack-straw fashion crackled and smoked, and a small concrete mixer chugged and turned, unattended. Apart from the mixer there was no movement and no sound of activity. The girls glanced at one another again before concentrating on the trail. Their super vision made the creature's slime, which was apparently invisible to everyone else, stand out in a vivid green as if fluorescent, and it was thus easy to see where the monster had gone. The trail followed a more-or-less straight course from the fence across the mud, through puddles and over the deep tyre tracks made by heavy machinery, into the partially-completed building.
'OK,' said Blossom, taking a deep breath, 'We'll have to go in.'
Tentatively, the three girls entered the ground floor of the building, their eyes darting to and fro. The interior was dark, cavernous and echoing, a great empty space broken up only by the concrete pillars that supported the floors and by great, rectangular piles of construction materials, blocks and boards and timbers. The outside walls, which would eventually be glass, were boarded up for safety, and the only illumination was provided by the temporary strip lamps that the builders had left, which created rather eerie islands of cold, bluish-white light in the blackness. The slime trail meandered around the pillars and the piles of materials, and made its way up a cold and reverberating concrete stairway, becoming fainter and fainter all the time. Eventually, when the girls reached the sixth floor, the trail petered out completely into the cement dust of the floor. They hovered near the entrance, peering cautiously into the dim interior.
'Well, unless it can fly, it's got to be here somewhere,' whispered Blossom.
'Could that be it?' whispered Bubbles in return, pointing to a strange series of regular, undulating marks made in the dust that covered the floor.
'Could be. Well done, Bubbles,' said Blossom.
Very carefully, her eyes half closed, Blossom peeked around the doorway. It was very dark, with just a tiny spear of light coming from a crack between the boards that covered the windows. There was a deep shadow in the corner that had an odd-looking shape about it, and Blossom flinched back when it crossed her mind that it might be something, lurking, waiting to spring upon them, but when she peeped back nervously again it was clear that there was nothing hiding there. Cautiously, twisting and turning to try to make sure that nothing could attack them from behind, the girls left the stairwell and entered the darkness of the sixth floor. There was only one light on, at the far end of the enormous room, and that small light was further diminished by a great stack of pipes, also at the far end, that cast an enormous shadow over most of the floor. A cold draught blew up the stairs and caused the girls to shiver. The only sound to be heard was the moaning of the wind and the faint rattle of the boards covering the windows. Straining to see, they began slowly to follow the strange marks that had been made in the dust. On one side was the regular, undulating pattern that Bubbles had first spotted; on the other, there was a long, wavering trail as if something had been dragged along the ground.
'What's that?' hissed Buttercup, pointing to the corner of the room. In the darkness behind some packing cases, down near the floor, a dark shape was moving, in and out, slowly and regularly like someone taking deep breaths.
'OK,' whispered Blossom, her body trembling, 'Move in. Carefully!'
Noiselessly, the three girls approached the packing cases. In the lead, Blossom let out a faint exclamation.
'It's just a piece of wood swinging in the wind,' she said, almost laughing. She touched the piece of plywood, as if to reassure herself and the others that there really was no danger. From behind them came a quiet scrabbling sound. All three girls turned in terror.
'Oh, shit! What was that?' exclaimed Buttercup.
The girls scanned the room. There was nothing to be seen.
'Buttercup!' whispered Blossom, 'Where'd you learn language like that?'
'I hate this!' hissed Buttercup, 'Why doesn't it just show itself?'
Suddenly, there was a noise again, a faint gurgling sound that came from behind the stack of pipes.
'Let's get this over with,' said Buttercup. Steeling themselves, the three girls darted across the room.
'I know,' hissed Blossom, who had taken up a position behind one of the concrete support columns, 'If we pull away the supports, the pipes will come down and expose the monster without us having to get close. Then we can decide how to tackle it.'
'Good plan,' said Buttercup, who, with Bubbles, was hiding behind another of the columns. As scared as she was, Blossom could not help but notice that Buttercup must be feeling pretty frightened to admit that one of her plans might have some merit.
With her back to the concrete, Blossom peeped cautiously around the side of the column at the stack of pipes. At the bottom of the stack, there were two wooden wedges that were holding the whole thing up. She glanced across to Bubbles, who nodded, and the two of them darted forward and yanked the wedges out. As they dashed away, the pipes came crashing down with an enormous, ringing metallic clatter that echoed painfully and disorientatingly from the walls, floor and ceiling, and went rolling across the floor in all directions. From the other side of the room, the girls could see that there was no monster, just the figure of a man lying on the floor.
'Quick, he needs help,' exclaimed Blossom.
The girls shot across the room to where the man was lying, face down.
'Is he still alive?' asked Buttercup, dropping down to kneel at the man's side. As she said these words, the man groaned and turned his head to look at her.
'All right,' she said, tenderly, placing her arm on the man's shoulders.
The man grimaced and rolled slightly onto his side. With great effort, he pulled his arm out from under his body. The girls looked in horror. The whole of the man's arm was bloated, his swollen fingers reduced to mere claws, with the disgusting green cactus-like material breaking through sections of his skin.
'We have to get him to hospital,' said Blossom.
A piercing squeal shattered the silence. Just behind the girls, a great dark object plopped from the ceiling onto the floor. Bubbles let out a scream of terror which was itself more shocking than the action that had provoked it, and the other two girls followed suit. In a flash of blue, pink and green, they shot in an instant to three separate corners of the room.
A great, green, heaving, gelatinous mass was quivering on the floor beside the man. With a disgusting sucking sound, it raised itself heavily and slumped down again. In a series of such movements, it began to move across the floor towards the stairs.
Buttercup was first to recover from the shock. Now that she could see what she was dealing with, her fright turned to anger. She flew out from her corner and prepared to deal the creature a mighty blow.
'Wait!' cried Bubbles.
'What?' snapped Buttercup.
'What if just touching it does that to you,' replied Bubbles, pointing to the injured man. The man let out a groan, and, with his face screwed up with pain, nodded as if to confirm Bubbles' hypothesis.
Thus thwarted, Buttercup cried out in frustration, 'Well, what are we going to do?'
'Laser it!' exclaimed Blossom, through gritted teeth.
Taking care to keep their distance, the girls positioned themselves around the creature, which was still heaving and slithering towards the door. Squinting, they each fired their laser vision, lighting up the room in a blaze of red. The monster flinched and seemed to contract in on itself, then reared up and let out a squeal of pain, great clouds of foul-smelling smoke billowing from its surface. Within seconds, it had evaporated, and the thing that had created such terror was no more. Still shaking with the horror of it, with suppressed laughter and with sheer relief, the three sisters hugged one another.
Coughing from the smoke, the girls carried the injured man out of the building and into the welcome sunshine. The inevitable crowd of onlookers had gathered, along with the emergency services, and an ambulance crew quickly darted forward and took the man from the girls, putting him on a stretcher before placing him in the ambulance and whisking him to hospital.
The girls were shattered. Blossom could feel a headache coming on, but there was no escape from the crowd that gathered round to congratulate them. Fortunately, though, as the minutes passed and there was nothing more to see, people began to drift away, until there was just one man left, a tall, middle-aged man dressed in a dark overcoat, a hat and a heavy muffler. Just as the girls had finished giving their story to the police, and were about to fly back home for some welcome rest, he stepped forward and introduced himself.
'Hello,' he said, rather awkwardly, as if he were not used to talking to children, 'My name is Mr. Matthews. I'm very interested in what you've just done.' He raised his hat politely. 'Here's my card.'
He held out a business card. On it was printed the name 'Hopkin I. Matthews, PhD.'
'I'm a scientist,' he continued, 'I'm taking a sabbatical at the moment – that's a kind of vacation – and I have a little base at the Hobbs Lane Community College. Perhaps you know it?'
The girls shook their heads.
'I've been studying the creature you've just killed for quite some time,' said Mr. Matthews.
'You knew about it?' asked Blossom, astonished.
'Oh, yes, I've done some quite in-depth research. In fact, I'd very much like to talk to you about it, and to Professor Utonium. Do you think the Professor would be willing to talk to me?'
'I'm sure he would, Mr. Matthews,' said Blossom, 'Would you like his telephone number?'
'I do believe I have the Professor's address somewhere, thank you very much. Perhaps we'll meet again soon. Goodbye.'
With that, Mr. Matthews raised his hat again and turned and walked away.
'Goodbye, Mr. Matthews,' called Blossom.