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Mister Grin
The glowing eyes were coming.
“Get behind me, lads!” shouted Alf, crouching,
preparing to fight—but what, he wasn’t sure.
Peter, ignoring Alf, dropped to hands and knees, looking
in the gloom for a weapon. He grabbed a heavy bone—Must
be a leg, he thought—then found its mate, which he
handed to Alf.
The thing was coming fast, now. The cage echoed with the
sound of claws scrabbling on the floor, and massive weight
being dragged closer, closer. Now Peter could see the massive,
flat head. And now the glowing eyes disappeared from view
as the thing opened the biggest mouth Peter had ever seen,
lined top and bottom with jagged teeth as big as daggers,
a gaping cavern of a mouth that easily could have taken him
in whole. The cage echoed with a monstrous, bone-chilling
roar. Then the enormous mouth snapped shut with a sound like
a gunshot and the thing sprang forward at its prey.
“NO!” bellowed Alf, leaping forward to meet it,
swinging the leg bone down hard with both hands onto the
massive charging snout, and right in time. The bone broke
in two; the creature stopped for a moment, as if surprised.
Then it snapped again, and lunged at Alf, who sidestepped,
trying to draw it away from the boys. His ploy worked; the
thing turned toward him, pivoting its huge body, sending
its massive tail—a tail, Peter now saw, that was the
size of a longboat—sweeping across the wall, sending
Peter and the other boys flying.
“COME ON, YOU DEVIL!” Alf was shouting. “COME
ON AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN!” He was walking backward,
trying to keep his eye on the monster as he looked around
desperately for another weapon. Peter lunged to his feet
and followed, careful to keep out of the way of that terrible
tail, his plan being to toss the other leg bone to Alf. As
the tail swept back and forth, Peter jumped over it as though
it was a jumprope.
“ALF!” he yelled.
“STAY BACK, BOY!” shouted Alf. “ST—UNH.”
Alf was down. He’d tripped on a skull, and he’d
hit his head hard. He moaned and rolled sideways, but did
not get up. The monster opened its mouth again; it would
be eating Alf in another step.
“NO!” screamed Peter, leaping forward, again
dodging the sweeping tail, and bringing his bone-club smashing
down on the thing’s hard, scaly back. “NO! NO!
NO!” he shouted, each time striking it again. The monster
whirled and snapped, moving far faster than Peter expected.
Peter jerked his hands back just far enough, but the bone
was caught, instantly crunched to splinters in the monster’s
massive jaws.
Now it was Peter’s turn to scramble backward, with
the thing turning in his direction, coming after him . . . coming, coming . . . its glowing eyes strangely dispassionate,
a hungry beast about to do its work. As Peter backed away,
he simultaneously crouched and felt around his feet for another
bone . . . for anything . . . He touched nothing but hard
ground. He backed up some more. Hit something hard.
The wall.
He was trapped in the corner.
The monster paused, as if knowing Peter had no way out. It
halted and then slowly opened its massive mouth, close enough
now that Peter could smell its musty, fetid breath. He could
have reached out and touched the dagger teeth that were about
to tear into his flesh.
Peter closed his eyes and held out his hands in a futile
gesture of self-protection, and as he did . . .
“Peter!” shouted a voice.
Molly!
He opened his eyes and saw her hovering above him, waving
something.
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