Toad Heaven by Morris Gleitzman Read Free Book Online Page A

unless some of the four-wheel drives on the highway with dark tinted windows had sheep driving them.
    “Evening,” said the nearest sheep. “Going far?”
    “To the national park,” said Limpy. “If I can find it. I know it's in this direction.”
    The sheep turned to the other sheep. “Any of you know where the national park is?”
    The other sheep shook their heads.
    “Sorry we can't be more help,” said the sheep to Limpy. “Hope you find it.”
    “Thanks,” said Limpy. “What about you? Are you on holiday?”
    “Not really,” said the sheep. “We're on our way to the slaughterhouse. To be killed and eaten by humans.”
    Limpy stared.
    That was awful.
    “Come with me,” he said. “To the national park. All living things are protected there. Nobody will be able to eat you there, not if you don't want them to.”
    “Thanks,” said the sheep. “But it wouldn't work. This is a locked carriage. At the other end we're putinto a locked truck. And taken to a locked slaughterhouse. Anyway, we've always known this is what would happen. We're, I dunno, sort of used to the idea.”
    Limpy looked around at their placid faces with only a hint of sadness in their big soft eyes.
    Stack me! he thought angrily.
    As the train raced through the night, Limpy tried to persuade the sheep to let him rescue them and take them to a life of freedom and frolic in the national park.
    It was no good. They were polite but firm.
    Finally, sadly, Limpy gave up.
    The conversation sort of petered out after that. Limpy didn't think it was fair to keep on about the wonders of life in the national park, the brilliant mud slides and the stunning views and the fragrant bogs, not to traveling companions who'd soon be chops and sausages.

T he train had been slowing down for some time, and now it jolted to a stop.
    Limpy peered through a crack in the carriage wall.
    When his eyes got used to the sunlight, he saw a concrete platform with rows of metal fences.
    “End of the line,” said one of the sheep. “Good luck. Hope you find the national park.”
    Limpy looked around sadly at their kind faces.
    He didn't know what to say. What could you say to traveling companions who'd be ending up as roast dinners?
    Hope the gravy's not too hot?
    It didn't seem right, so he just gave them a grateful smile and said “Thanks.”
    As he squeezed through the crack in the carriage floor, he remembered something.
    The virus germs.
    Oh no, he thought. What if I've infected the sheep?
    That wouldn't be fair, his new friends having to spend their last precious hours worrying about their health.
    Then Limpy realized he was being an idiot. Humans wouldn't want to spread germs to every living animal, because if they did, they wouldn't have anything left to eat for lunch. The virus germs must just affect cane toads.
    That's a relief, thought Limpy, though it wasn't much of one.
    Limpy dropped onto the rusty beam under the train and looked around.
    His warts prickled with fear.
    Human feet in big work boots were clomping along the platform. Human feet he'd have to get past to find the national park.
    Limpy looked around some more.
    What he really wanted was a tunnel that led under the platform and under all the other scary human places outside and came up right in the middle of the national park, wherever it was—preferably next to a swamp.
    He couldn't see one.
    Which meant he'd have to go across the platform.
    Limpy took a deep breath. He waited till none of the human feet were directly in front of him, madesure he had plenty of mucus so his lips wouldn't dry out when he was hopping for his life, and hopped for his life.
    The bright morning sun hurt his eyes. He couldn't see if any boots were aiming for him. All he could do was head toward the patch of shade on the other side of the platform.
    Not too fast, he reminded himself. If you start going in a curve you'll end up somewhere fatal, like the ladies’ toilets.
    Limpy felt his mucus drying up with the