Greatest Power by Draanen Wendelin van

Author:Draanen, Wendelin van [Draanen, Wendelin van]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Humour, Mystery, Childrens, Adventure
ISBN: 9780375853821
Amazon: 0375853820
Goodreads: 9160936
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2009-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Damien Black whooshed toward Dave and Sticky, his long coat pouffed out with air and flapping at his sides. To Dave, he looked like an enormous angry raven swooping in for the kill.

There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. So Dave held another breath (on top of the one he was already holding) and closed his eyes (as some things are just too terrifying to watch). Then he simply stood there shivering and quivering and quaking in his shoes (because, let’s face it, his nerves were shot).

In the wink of a deadly eye, Damien was upon them. But he whooshed right by, unaware of their presence.

Except.

Except that Damien’s raven-winged coat caught on Dave as he passed him in the corridor.

Dave imagined that a blanket had been thrown over him (an easy mistake to make, as he was holding two breaths, had closed his eyes, and was shivering in his sneakers).

Damien said, “What the …,” but then dismissed the snag as being a pocket of particularly pouffy air.

And so while Dave held both breaths, Damien whooshed down the corridor until he got to the blood-red door.

He inspected the rattle.

The rafters.

The room.

He found no evidence of bats.

Or rats.

Or cutesy-wootsy squishable mice.

But he did hear something.

Something coming from the other side of the blood-red door.

Something … happy-sounding?

To a dark, demented mind, there is nothing more nerve-shattering than the sounds of someone else’s happiness. Birds chirping, people singing, laughter … these are like long fingernails across an old, dusty chalkboard.

And to make matters worse, the sound Damien heard wasn’t simply chirping or singing or laughter.

It wasn’t just happy.

It was, Damien realized, joyous.

The treasure hunter cringed.

He quivered.

He covered his ears!

A great shudder moved from the top of his oily head to the tips of his ragged toenails as he gasped, “What is making that sound?”

At last, and with great bravery (for he was truly frightened by the sound), he opened the blood-red door.

The sound became unbearable!

And someone had turned on the floodlight!

He stepped through the door, and what he saw astounded him.

Rendered him speechless.

Gave him a severe case of dropjaw.

In all his dastardly days, he had never, I promise you, ever seen such a sight.

Tito Bandito (the one who looked like an ox and had a head full of rocks) was bouncing on the edge of the diving-board platform, squealing with delight. Pablo and Angelo were in line behind him, and there was a monkey (his monkey) swinging from here to there, flipping around, eeking and squeaking, and having a golden time.

“GERONIMOOOOOO! WATCH OUT BELOW!” Tito cried, then boinged off the diving board and cannonballed into the sea of red balls below.

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