Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    The Last Goodbye
    The Last Goodbye
    The Last Goodbye
    Ebook102 pages1 hour

    The Last Goodbye

    By Chris Blake

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Our band of intrepid ratbags has escaped the winjas with help from an unexpected catastrophe. To save humanity they have committed to leaving Earth and colonising the Moon. The Australasian Spaceport is on Cape York in Far North Queensland. However, Surfers Paradise is on the way, and Rowan the rat wants to check something out before they head off. It might be his last chance to catch up on his past if their plans succeed. But those interfering humans have done it again, and the Gold Coast is overrun by yet another man-made disaster. Now the rats have a secret weapon though, and circumstances conspire for them to use it in all-out war. It’s a fight to stave off extinction. Can they turn the tide, or this time have those thoughtless humans gone too far?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChris Blake
    Release dateMay 14, 2019
    ISBN9780463536339
    The Last Goodbye
    Author

    Chris Blake

    Chris Blake lives in the South West, not far from Tintagel Castle, rumoured to be the home of King Arthur. Ever since he was a little boy Chris has always dreamed about travelling through time. He likes watching Doctor Who and looks forward to the day that time-travel is possible as he’d love to visit all the places in his books. In the meantime Chris will keep writing his own adventures. Chris has an old black cat called Merlin.

    Read more from Chris Blake

    Related to The Last Goodbye

    Related ebooks

    Children's Animals For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Taz-mania

      Jan 18, 2021

      Taz-mania
      3 min read

    • Article

      Sweet Fantasy

      Nov 20, 2021

      Sweet Fantasy
      8 min read

    • Article

      Spell

      Apr 25, 2018

      Spell
      4 min read

    • Article

      Timeless Movement

      Jan 30, 2018

      Timeless Movement
      10 min read

    • Article

      Six Bestiary Poems

      Nov 1, 2020

      The world, is it finite? Pliny the Elderon what he saw and heard, 37 “books” toround that up, early C.E. as heproceeded to be infinite. His Naturalis. His Historia.First bestiary ever in Book 8. Land lifeand sea life and through-the-air and undergrou

      4 min read

    • Article

      Stranger Places

      Aug 9, 2018

      It began like any normal pregame in the woods. Naked, alone, hungover, a sweaty sleeping bag in the back of a dusty pickup truck, miles from civilization. Predawn in a narrow Utah river bottom, canyon country, early July. A Thermos of lukewarm coffee

      18 min read

    • Article

      Five Plague Octets

      May 1, 2022

      The wolf plans to live with the lamb, the leopardto lie with the goat. It’s written in stoneand onion skin. The lion will eat straw,the snake will eat dust. It’s prophesiedin ball point on the palm of your hand.The date has been fixed for the wedding

      1 min read

    • Article

      Roger’s PROFANISAURUS

      May 18, 2023

      Roger’s PROFANISAURUS
      7 min read

    • Article

      As the Worm Turns

      Nov 15, 2021

      As the Worm Turns
      3 min read

    • Article

      Animal Planet

      May 3, 2020

      Animal Planet
      3 min read

    • Article

      In Search Of Sanctuary

      Jan 5, 2024

      In Search Of Sanctuary
      16 min read

    • Article

      Hello Darkness My Old Friend

      Jun 17, 2020

      Hello Darkness My Old Friend
      4 min read

    • Article

      Second Language

      Aug 14, 2017

      Second Language
      9 min read

    • Article

      Humming Into The Void

      Mar 17, 2021

      DO you know about the South Somerset Hum? It isn’t the sound of bees in a cider orchard or Morris men girding up on the village green, nor the buzz of an instrument, like the homely humstrum of William Barnes’s dialect poem, whose ‘ingan-ing_ did rin

      2 min read

    • Article

      Roger’s PROFANISAURUS

      Mar 10, 2022

      profanisaurus@viz.co.uk abolishing the licence fee n. A desperate diversionary tactic during a humiliating crisis, eg. Handing out Quality Streets to everyone in the room after an audible shart. anti-waxxers n. Name given to those ladies who prefer t

      7 min read

    • Article

      Fear In The Night

      Feb 17, 2020

      Fear In The Night
      3 min read

    • Article

      Africa’s FOOTHOLD OVER ME

      Oct 7, 2022

      Africa’s FOOTHOLD OVER ME
      7 min read

    • Article

      Hook, Line And Sinker

      Oct 18, 2018

      Hook, Line And Sinker
      4 min read

    • Article

      Commonplace Book

      Jun 1, 2022

      Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June’s long days, and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine. The nettles that methodically overgrow the abandoned homesteads of exiles. —Adam Zagajewski, “Try to Praise the Mutilated World,” tr. by Clare C

      4 min read

    • Article

      Roger’s PROFANISAURUS

      Jan 5, 2022

      Roger’s PROFANISAURUS
      5 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Jan 1, 2021

      Light delimits the darkness as snowgives shape to the silence of winter trees.Above a rooftop, the shadow of illness hoversindistinguishable from the wraithsof common chimney smoke.Strip skin from flesh, flesh from boneto behold the comical, adumbrat

      4 min read

    • Article

      Six Poems

      Feb 28, 2023

      Dear C, At first Virgil’s poem is quite dull; equivocalnames of products at The Container Store: Elfa White Medium Drawer, Mesh NarrowRolling Cart (Medium Solution), Narrow Classic Mesh Box and the number of pirouetting starseach product attained. An

      5 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for The Last Goodbye

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      The Last Goodbye - Chris Blake

      Ratpackers III

      The Last Goodbye

      WARNING: Not to be read by adults. It might give them nasty ideas.

      Published by Chris Blake at Smashwords

      Text Copyright 2019 Chris Blake

      All rights reserved.

      Illustrated by Malcolm Liddell

      Coloured in by Angelica Blake

      * * * * *

      Table of Contents

      PART FOUR: The Last Goodbye – The Gold Coast

      Chapter 1. The Gold Coast

      Chapter 2. Speak No Evil

      Chapter 3. The Hacker

      Chapter 4. Playing Pirates

      Chapter 5. The Pantomime Patrol

      Chapter 6. Hot Wheels, Cool Rides

      Chapter 7. War Games

      Chapter 8. The Warpath

      Chapter 9. Backs to the Wall

      Chapter 10. Mutant Mayhem

      Chapter 11. Drained Away

      Chapter 12. The Sacrifice

      Chapter 13. The Way of the Butterfly

      Chapter 14. The Best Laid Plans

      Chapter 15. A Blaze of Glory

      Chapter 16. The Last Goodbye

      Chapter 17. Waterlogged

      EPILOGUE

      * * * * *

      PART FOUR.: The Last Goodbye

      The drums have called me

      to air your sorrows

      Heal your pain

      I am the guardian of Liberty

      Equality my only claim

      I uphold the oppressed and needy

      Hear your sighs and bear your woes

      My tears never fall for bravery

      My soul allows no chains

      Life in slavery

      Is life in vain.

      Epigram on a Folk Warrior, from ‘The Water Margin’, translated from the Mandarin by Hokido the samurat.

      *

      Chapter 45. The Gold Coast

      The sky groans, moaned the Pomrat. Its bald hide ran with rivulets of sweat and perspiration. The humidity and the weight of the air lay over them like a great heavy wet soggy blanket. The others’ fur was matted with moisture.

      I’m beginning to wish I was hairless like you, Beth said to Pomrat,

      It’s got its advantages at a time like this.

      The Pomrat smirked smugly and began an exaggerated preening of its naked skin, and swaggered casually ahead of the band of travelers. They’d been wandering the thoroughfares and canal sides of the Gold Coast for ages, keeping to the gutters, drains and. shadows, out of eyesight of the humans. This wasn’t easy for the humans seemed to surge about in great babbling masses like the oncoming waves of a king tide; a vast sea of pink and yellow and brown bodies clad scantily in shorts, singlets and thongs overflowing from the beaches into the streets. The little group of travelers was looking for company, local rodents that they could chat to and hear all the latest gossip. It had begun as a casual ramble, for they expected to bump into fellow rats or mice at any moment. But after a long series of empty likely haunts and holes they began to get puzzled, so they started to search in earnest. They began to quarter and thoroughly cross-check one area at a time. Rowan began to feel desperate for news in the strange town. He'd been convinced that a few choice comments about his Uncle Horace would have instantly jogged memories and led him straight to the whereabouts of the eccentric old rat. The old sandgroper must surely be a notorious personality locally?

      There seemed to be a strange sense of emptiness in the underworld of the place. Throngs of humans happily crowded everywhere in a cheerful relaxed atmosphere with none of their usual rush, aggression and stridence, but there was no visible sign of any other animal life.

      Has the P.C.O. Man up here finally perfected his techniques, and cleared us out? Rowan questioned his sister incredulously.

      No chance, stated Beth emphatically, humans will never be that bright; there must be some logical explanation for this absence, some natural flu or virus perhaps.

      Night seemed to come early and swiftly and still they’d found no rodent to help them in their quest. They were getting foot-sore, weary and depressed, and the Pomrat dangerously bored, but as darkness fell a soft warbling song began to hum from the canals, lakes and ponds of the town. The melodious harmony seemed to grow and charm them, uplifting their disheartened spirits and soothing their worries away. They began to relax and unwind, apart from Erminia, who was still filled with a sense of unease and foreboding. She was somehow reminded of the old stories of sirens luring sailors and ship-rats onto treacherous reefs and rocks.

      Don’t be silly, Beth had remarked when she’d mentioned her fears, nothing that sounds as beautiful as this could be dangerous. Just you think on the sort of noises that predators make - cats, dogs, dingoes, foxes – their voices are as ugly as their souls. And have you ever heard a Tasmanian Devil; total mega mess - burst eardrums, pounding headache, and nightmares for decades.

      Where did you ever hear a Tasmanian Devil? asked Erminia in surprise.

      On the TV of course, replied Beth, on one of those dumb nature shows - it put me off the small screen for days, and I’ve never watched an animal documentary since, they’re too realistic.

      It reminds me of the Land after the rains, said the Pomrat wistfully, trying to think of the desert they’d left behind, all the frogs and toads who have waited years come out and sing for joy all night long.

      I think it's lovely too, agreed Quirkal, let's go down to the water and see what’s doing it, it seems to be coming from the canal.

      Almost mesmerized in a floating dream they glided on light dancing feet down to the bank of the nearest canal, and there they stopped, and swayed to the lilt of the melody and gazed out across the water. The Pomrat closed its eyes in ecstasy, slipped, tripped and fell in. The great splash seemed to abruptly silence the song in the vicinity, and a series of startled croaks faded into stillness. The mood was broken, and they hauled the Pomrat out, which was difficult because it couldn’t swim, and struggled violently. They decided to hole up somewhere for a few hours rest and sleep before venturing off again. By then it would be the very depths of night, and surely they'd find some rat or something to interrogate in the small hours of stealth and darkness. They wandered away from the canal back towards the road, and Rowan found a suitable hideout, in the wide garage of a human dwelling. They sneaked in under the door, and settled down to sleep. Pomrat stretched out on the outside as usual, like a final line of defense, or a dormant minefield if any intruder or predator should happen to stumble upon them. Except for Erminia they all slept soundly, tired out by all the fruitless explorations of the day. Erminia dozed uneasily, slithering slimy sounds mingling with a persistent slap like wet feet on damp concrete sliding in and out of her dreams. She slipped into the grip of an insidious nightmare where a giant worm with a great gaping toothless mouth chased her through long slimy tunnels that climbed inevitably and inexorably uphill towards a tiny circle of moonlight in the far, far distance. Her feet were scrabbling in the slime and she was slipping backwards ever closer to the sucking maw when mercifully Rowan shook her out of her slumber. It was time to go out once more, for a nocturnal assault on the strange emptiness of the town. Most of the humans were thankfully abed, apart from a few lively

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1