Toad Heaven by Morris Gleitzman Read Free Book Online Page B

effort and the stress. He dreaded hearing that horrible cry humans give when they see a cane toad. The one that sounds like they've got a bog worm stuck in their throat and they don't like the taste.
    The cry didn't come.
    Limpy threw himself into the shade, gasping gratefully.
    And saw to his relief that he was on a concrete ramp that led down into darkness. Could this be the tunnel he'd hoped for?
    An ant was trotting toward him up the ramp. Followed, Limpy saw, by a swarm of other ants.
    “Excuse me,” Limpy said to the first ant. “Is this the way to the national park?”
    “Rack off, wart-head,” scowled the ant as he hurried past. “We've got a train to catch.”
    Limpy was tempted to have breakfast, but the ants’ red bodies and red faces and red angry eyes didn't look that appetizing.
    “Thanks for your help,” muttered Limpy. “Have a nice day.”
    He turned away and headed toward the mouth of the tunnel. Before he reached it, he heard a loud cry behind him. Not, Limpy saw with relief as he spun round, from a human. From a sheep.
    The sheep were being herded by the humans out of the train carriages and down wooden chutes. The first few sheep had frozen in horror and were staring at the approaching ants.
    “Arghh!” screamed one of them. “Fire ants!”
    Limpy watched, stunned, as the sheep tried to scramble back up the chutes in panic. Then they bolted. The humans were knocked sideways as a tide of frenzied sheep thundered across the platform. Toward, Limpy saw, his own panic rising, him.
    Limpy spun back round desperately. He was trapped. Concrete walls rose up on both sides, too high to climb. Ahead was the tunnel, but soon it would be full of a frenzied stampeding mob.
    Stack me, thought Limpy, weak with terror. I'm going to be trampled to death by sheep.
    Then a voice rang out above him.
    “Limpy. Grab my arm.”
    A familiar voice.
    Limpy looked up. And even though the pounding sheep feet were only meters away, he froze in amazement.
    “Goliath!” he yelled, weak now for different reasons. Relief and quite a bit of delight.
    “Grab my arm!” shouted Goliath, hanging off the concrete wall and reaching down toward Limpy.
    “Yes!” yelled Limpy. “I'm grabbing, I'm grabbing. Stack me, am I glad to see you!”
    He lunged up toward Goliath's arm.
    Then, delight turning to anguish, Limpy remembered something.
    The virus germs.
    He pulled his arm away from Goliath's.
    “No!” yelled Limpy above the thunder of the sheep. “Go away!”

G oliath didn't go away.
    Limpy felt muscular fingers grab the loose skin at the back of his neck. Suddenly he was dragged up the wall. Dust and wool and sheep saliva tickled his feet as the mob charged under him into the tunnel.
    “Please,” Limpy begged Goliath. “You mustn't touch me.”
    Goliath didn't seem to hear. He heaved Limpy onto the top of the wall, put his arm round him, and jumped with him down behind some wooden crates.
    “We'll be safe here till the panic's over,” said Goliath.
    No you won't, thought Limpy miserably, pulling away. You'll never be safe again. I've probably just infected you with virus germs.
    Limpy could hear the sheep bursting noisily out ofthe other end of the tunnel and milling around, with humans shouting at them.
    I should be down there, he said to himself, glands aching with anguish. Flattened to a pulp by hundreds of sheep feet. At least I wouldn't have done this to poor Goliath.
    Goliath was grinning at him.
    “Stack me, you look pale,” said Goliath. “Must be the shock of seeing me. I'm pretty amazed I made it here myself.”
    “Goliath …,”croaked Limpy.
    The sooner Goliath knew, the better. Perhaps if Goliath lay down and put his feet up, the germs wouldn't affect him so badly.
    Wouldn't kill him so quickly.
    “There's something I have to tell you,” whispered Limpy.
    Goliath wasn't listening.
    “Talk about good luck,” he was saying. “You know those flying beetles you sent over to me yesterday? I mustn't