The Wrath Of Razorback

• Jaden Teow, Grade 4, Brisbane Boys College
• Short Story
• 2015

Finalist in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

“Yeargh!” yelled John, as he plunged down the fifty-foot incline on the Razorback Ride.
“Don’t worry, Dad!” Anthony his son, shouted back.
They were all on Razorback Ride, the most dangerous ride in the French Fun Fair and possibly the world. It was second only to the Slingshot of Speedy Terror, an immense crimson catapult, which you were fired from into the Living Dead Lake.
“It’s just a roller coaster! What could possibly go wrong?” Anthony continued.
Without warning, the deep, damp tunnel they were in, was abruptly plunged into darkness.
John and Anthony were as blind as bats now. When the lights reactivated, the two of them were relieved but now the lights were glowing red - an eerie, hellish red.
“Dad”, Anthony whispered, “I’m scared.” There wasn’t a reason not to be.
The engine of the small white ride carriage in which they were sitting in, was starting to produce thick grey smoke. A quiet, squeaking sound was coming from the wheels and the dashboard in front of them had only one word on it: ‘Error’.
“Don’t worry,” John replied, “It’ll be all- ”
His last words were cut short by a loud booming noise, which could only mean one thing, they had broken the sound barrier.
The wind stung John’s face as the carriage teetered and tottered around the perilous path, precariously. Doing three loop-de-loops at the speed of sound was not fun. The car had left the tunnel only ten minutes before but it had seemed like hours. John was just about to throw up, when three words came to mind: “Emergency stop button.” Anthony’s dad dangled over the side of the carriage searching for the miniscule red button that could save their lives.
“Dad, what are you doing?” Anthony asked worriedly.
John had now located the safety button but the car was close to being destroyed by the sheer pressure of the speed. Deep black cracks were appearing on the sides. Panicking, John pressed the emergency button but nothing happened. The carriage was still hurtling forward like a cannonball. All of a sudden, the carriage jerked and reversed, as if it was being vacuumed up by the gods. John glanced over his shoulder and gasped in horror. A giant blue oval, shaped portal balanced on a cloud, was sucking up everything its path. That included their carriage. The combined forces of push and pull were tearing it apart. John grabbed Anthony’s arm and they leaped off a split second before the carriage split into two. They tumbled onto a café roof, bruised from their deadly fall but alive. That was all that mattered.
Anthony rolled out of the bathroom like James Bond on a mission, an embarrassed look on his face.
“I can’t believe you wet your pants!” remarked his father humorously.
“Anyone would have, back in that ride through hell,” Anthony retorted defensively. “Hey, want to go on the Slingshot of terror?”