Read Online The Deptford Mice 3: The Final Reckoning by Robin Jarvis - Free Book Online Page A

blood?’
    The rats became possessed as Morgan’s hate and hunger consumed them like a raging fire. They waved their claws in the air, slashing furiously like tigers. Those near the platform banged their fists on it passionately.
    Morgan grinned. It was all going according to his plans. Now he would rule an army of rats – just what he had always wanted. His beady red eyes flicked over his followers and he nodded with satisfaction. Suddenly a voice shouted from the far corner and all turned to see who it was.
    A scabby-faced black rat was trying to make himself heard above the din. ‘Hang on, hang on,’ he cried. ‘What do we wanna listen to ’im fer? We’re ’appy enough ain’t we? So what if the mouseys call us names an’ ‘ave first claim to all the grub –I prefer the stuff they don’t want. We ain’t no killers. You should go back to Deptford where you belong instead of stirrin’ up trouble ’ere.’
    The crowd looked at Morgan expectantly but he merely smiled, ‘Come forward friend,’ he said disarmingly. ‘Come up here where I can see you proper. I should like to talk with you.’ His stubby tail thumped impatiently on the platform.
    The scabby rat pushed through the crowd and was lifted up next to Morgan.
    ‘Tell me,’ said the piebald rat smarmily, ‘what be it about me that offends you so?’
    The rat shrugged, ‘Tain’t personal – it’s just that I don’t think we should go round murderin’ anyfink just for the sake of it. Why can’t we just go on as we always ’ave?’
    Morgan whirled round and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. ‘This is what makes me sick!’ he cried to the audience. ‘Cowardly weakling scum, he be no rat, he don’t deserve to live!’ He threw the astonished rodent down, leapt into the air and lunged at him. With one swift slash of his powerful claws he tore out the other’s throat.
    Piccadilly and Marty covered their eyes and felt sick.
    The assembly was in confusion, not knowing whether to be angry or afraid.
    ‘That is what happens to the weak and spineless!’ boomed Morgan, kicking his victim off the platform. ‘Follow me and you shall drink sweeter blood – mouse is better by far. A mouse’s flesh is tender and juicy and when fried his ears are good enough to die for.’
    The rats went wild. They tore the dead rat apart and tasted what they could get their claws on.
    ‘We go to war!’ screamed Morgan triumphantly. ‘Death to all mice.’
    ‘Death, death, death!’ echoed the assembly licking their lips and feeling the hatred burn behind their eyeballs. Morgan had done his work well.
    Piccadilly and Marty held on to each other in shock. Marty was pale and shook all over. ‘What are we to do?’ he wept. ‘They’re going to eat us all.’
    ‘We must warn them in Holeborn, Marty,’ said Piccadilly.
    They began to ease back out of the narrow pipe but in doing so Marty dislodged some loose rubble. It fell into the chamber and the torches spluttered.
    Every bloodthirsty rat looked upwards and saw Piccadilly’s startled face.
    ‘MOUSE!’ they screeched at the top of their evil voices.
    ‘Get him,’ commanded Morgan, ‘he’ll warn the others.’
    The rats began to scramble up the wall towards the broken pipe. Piccadilly ducked out of sight but knew it was too late. He could hear their curses and their claws scrabbling against the bricks. Wildly he turned to Marty. ‘They haven’t seen you yet,’ you’ve got to get out and warn everyone at Holeborn. I’ll keep them busy here.’
    ‘I won’t leave you, Piccadilly,’ squealed Marty.
    ‘You must, but promise me you’ll take the longer route to the East Way. The rats are sure to be watching the main entrance to Holeborn.’
    ‘I promise,’ said Marty and he gave his hero a final hug. ‘Green save us,’ he prayed.
    Piccadilly pushed him away. ‘Hurry up!’ Marty slithered down the pipe and was gone. ‘Green save us indeed,’ Piccadilly shook his head, ‘I don’t believe in