Toad Rage Read Free Page B

hope.”
    Limpy changed his mind about snacks and his tongue shot out.
    Ants were small, but they were juicy.
    It was easier at night.
    Limpy could smell water at night, and several times he found swamps not too far from the road.
    Sitting in one, he closed his eyes for a rest and sadness bubbled up inside him like that gas you get from eating dung beetles.
    He missed Charm. He'd never been away from her for a whole day and half a night before.
    Limpy sighed.
    He hoped she'd stay away from Goliath and traffic until he got back.
    With a weary groan, Limpy dragged himself out of the swamp and headed north again.
    As he trudged, to take his mind off worrying about Charm, he worried about how hot the sun would be the next day.

    The next day the sun was hot enough to melt a maggot.
    Limpy staggered along the edge of the highway from one tiny patch of shade to the next, desperately wishing he had some of that white liquid humans rubbed on their skins in the sun.
    He was so thirsty he'd drink anything.
    Cars and trucks roared past, covering him with dust and fumes.
    By the middle of the day he was almost a goner.
    His head was spinning and he could see things shimmering on the road ahead. Stacks of flat rellies that vanished as you got closer. Pools of cool water that disappeared when you tried to walk through them. A red can with brown liquid dribbling out of it.
    Limpy tried to walk through the can and banged his head.
    It was real.
    So was the liquid.
    Limpy let it trickle over his skin and drank it in gratefully.
    It left him very sticky, but able to trudge quite fast.
    The sun was starting to get a bit lower, but nowhere near as low as Limpy's spirits.
    As he plodded on, he stared down at his legs. They were so tired they were numb.
    He couldn't feel them.
    It was like being a tadpole again.
    Limpy wished he was a tadpole again, and that a bird would swoop down and snatch him up and fly to the gas station with him in its beak.
    Even in its lower digestive tract.
    Anything, so long as he didn't have to stagger any further.
    Limpy wondered whether if he lay down and tucked his legs under him, birds would think he was a big tadpole.
    He looked up to see if any big birds were flying overhead.
    Instead he saw, towering into the sky at last, the big plastic signs of the gas station.
    Limpy sat in the gas station parking lot, staring.
    Not at the cars or the trucks or the buildings or the litter. At the area of bush fenced off next door.
    He'd never seen anything like it.
    Inside the enclosure were kangaroos and koalas and emus and possums and parakeets and goannas and turtles and … and …
    And humans.
    Stack me
, thought Limpy.
    The humans were patting the kangaroos and stroking the koalas and grinning at the emus and winking at the possums and chatting with the parakeets and taking photos of the goannas and introducing their kids to the turtles.
    At no stage was any human trying to run over any animal with any form of vehicle.
    Limpy's heart was racing.
    He started to hop toward the enclosure.
    It was what he'd always dreamed of.
    Friendly people.
    He saw a group of humans standing next to a caravan at the edge of the parking lot. He changed direction and hopped toward them.
    No point competing with kangaroos, koalas, and possums, he thought, when I can have this lot all to myself.
    He wondered what they'd do first. Pat him? Stroke him? Introduce him to their kids?
    One of the women in the group pointed to him and screamed.
    Limpy stopped.
    Perhaps she's just pleased and excited to see me, he thought hopefully.
    But she didn't look very pleased.
    She looked pretty upset.
    So Limpy wasn't that surprised when the other humans in the group bent down, picked up rocks, and charged at him.

L impy hopped frantically in circles as rocks whizzed past him.
    The humans were getting closer.
    Limpy forced himself to slow down enough to hop straight. He flung himself into the thick undergrowth at the edge of the parking lot.
    Trembling, he