Dog Runner , livre ebook

Old Barn Books - Bren MacDibble

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256 pages

English

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'That ugly red fungus killed all the wheat for flour, killed all the oat, and sugar cane for sugar and golden syrup, along with all the grass for cows and butter. Killed just about every ingredient that me and Dad used to use when we made Anzac bickies. I don't think I'll ever see another Anzac bickie in my whole life.'Ella and her brother Emery are alone in a city that's starving to death. If they are going to survive, they must get away, upcountry, to find Emery's mum. But how can two kids travel such big distances across a dry, barren and dangerous landscape? Well, when you've got a few big doggos, the answer is you go mushing. When Emery is injured, Elle finds herself suddenly responsible for safely navigating the wheeled dog-sled through rough terrain, and even rougher encounters with desperate people. As with 'How to Bee', Bren MacDibble has set 'The Dog Runner' in an all-too-possible dystopian future Australia where climate change has taken hold. Her compelling adventure underlines the depth of ancient knowledge and the human ingenuity which will give tomorrow's generations hope of averting ultimate global disaster.

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Children's

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Publié par	Old Barn Books
Date de parution	02 mai 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781910646472
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	62 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0165€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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D GO THE RNNEU

Also by Bren MacDibble How to Bee Nine year-old Peony lives in a shack in the orchard and dreams of becoming the best ‘bee’ the farm has ever seen, scrambling through the fruit trees to pollinate by hand with feather wands. She has love, she has enough to eat and if she could just become a ‘bee’ she’d be super-cherries happy. But her mother wants her to live in the city, where all the fruit is sent. Torn between two different worlds, Peony fights to protect her family and the world she loves.‘This powerful, engrossing and engaging novel is a great introduction to dystopian fiction and tackles environmental issues, poverty, social inequality and problematic family relationships. Peony is a strong and inspiring protagonist and, despite some of the darker themes, this is a story filled with hope, as unlikely friendships blossom and a strong sense of loyalty prevails.’ - Seven Stories, The National Centre for Children’s Books ‘Quirky, original and heartfelt, this is an all too plausible dystopian adventure, exploring themes of family loyalty and the environment.’ - Fiona Noble, The Bookseller ‘How to Bee is a moving, intelligent novel, offering plenty of food for thought and a cast of appealing- and not so appealing - characters which linger with you long after the story is finished…’ - North Somerset Teachers’ Book Award ‘MacDibble writes with confidence and ease - the book feels different, atypical, which makes it shine brightly in the field of current children’s fiction. It turns out being is a complicated business, but with books such as this, children will buzz with excitement about their ability to influence their own futures.’ - Clare Zinkin, MinervaReads blog ‘How to Bee is perfect. It gave me the same shivers as ‘Skellig’. Not a word is wasted and the voice is compelling. This is a future classic.’ - Louise Nettleton, Bookmurmuration blog

D GO THE RNNEU REN M IBBLD E CA

AN OLD BARN BOOK First published in Australia by Allen Unwin 2019 This UK edition first published by Old Barn Books in 2019 Copyright Bren MacDibble 2019 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.Old Barn Books Ltd Warren Barn West Sussex RH20 1JW Teaching resources for our books are available to download from our website Cover and text design by Jo Hunt Printed in Denmark First UK edition 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

To all the kids who are not brave but do brave things anyway.

BE WITH ME WHEN I WAKE UP Even with my ear pressed to the floor so hard it hurts, I can’t hardly see under Alvie’s door.‘Mr Alvie Moore?’ I say. ‘You still there?’ ‘Just getting your book, Ella!’ he calls, voice all old raspy.‘Why can’t you open the door no more?’ I ask.‘Nailed it shut with boards. Ain’t no one coming through that door ever again, the way I nailed it shut.’ ‘But, Mr Alvie Moore, what if there’s a fire?’ I ask his shuffling slippers through the under-door crack, then sit up to rub my sore ear.‘I’ll be barbecue. Don’t you worry, I’ll open the door

when the army arrives to sort out these streets.’ Alvie tries to shove a book through the crack but it’s too thick and conks against the door. He picks it up, grunts, and then half a paperback, torn right down the spine, slides under the door. I have to wait for the other half to figure out what book he’s lending me. Then the top half with the cover comes sliding under the door. It’s got a splash of black and a splash of red on the cover that looks like blood. ‘Lord of the Flies’ in scary black writing.‘You read that one, Ella?’ Alvie asks.‘No,’ I say, picking up the two halves and putting them back together.‘Good, let me know what you think of it,’ Alvie says.‘Thank you! See you when the army gets here,’ I say and head back down the stairs, jumping two feet at once, step to step, twenty-two steps to our landing. Emery’s too-big hand-me-down shorts need holding for every bounce. Dad gave me these old Emery clothes when he bagged up and threw out all my clothes, saying I was too big for them, even though some of them fit fine. Now I’ve only got Emery’s old clothes.There are only three floors in this old building. We’ve got Alvie Moore above, Nontha Mantu below, and us in the middle. Me, Dad, Emery and three dogs, but we’re

not supposed to say about the dogs. And Mum when she comes home. Nontha’s good. She never complains about the clacking of the dogs’ toenails on the floor above her head.I open the door and push through the bouncing fur and licking tongues, rubbing each furry head hello, and smooching my cheek into three big fluffy yowling doggo heads, then I tell Dad what Alvie Moore’s gone and done to his door.He laughs and goes back to trying to stick some wires into an old hand crank from what used to be part of an electric bike, but there are so many bits on the kitchen table, I don’t think it’s gonna ever spit out any electricity. ‘The army? He’s waiting for the army? Someone needs to tell that old man an army marches on its stomach, so Australia’s got no army!’ he says.‘Don’t we gotta go and get him out?’ I ask. ‘What if there’s a fire?’ ‘I’m not sure nailing the door shut isn’t a bad idea. The world’s turned upside down, Baby Bell, if we wanna survive, we’ve all got to figure out...’ ‘How to walk on our heads!’ I shout, finishing it for him coz he’s said it so many times.Dad rubs my hair, still stiff and spiky-short from

where he cut it with his shaver last week, so I look like a pale version of Emery. ‘What book did you get?’ He picks the two pieces out of my hands and turns them over. ‘Oh,’ he says, his smile sliding away.‘What?’ I ask, with him already moving to put the pieces on the top shelf of the bookcase where he thinks I can’t reach.‘It’s not appropriate,’ he says.‘I’ve read the appropriate ones,’ I say. ‘There’s nothing in the building left for me to read!’ ‘Yeah, but not that. It’s too scary for you.’ ‘But Dad!’ I say. ‘I’m not a baby. If it gets too scary, I’ll stop reading!’ ‘Sweetie, there’s enough society breaking down outside our door without reading about it for fun.’ ‘Can I read it then?’ Emery calls from his bedroom.Dad rolls his eyes at me and doesn’t answer. Sometimes Emery says stuff just to make people argue with him. But not me. He never argues with me, coz I’m the little sister and he’s the big brother, and he looks out for me, no matter what.‘Can I?’ Emery yells again.Dad puts his finger to his lips, ducks down and hides

behind the couch. He’s skinny and small, our dad, so he can fold himself down real good.Maroochy, our biggest black dog, follows him, and Wolf tries to too, but there’s not much room down there. A fluffy wagging brown tail is sticking out. Dad waves a hand for me to hide, so I duck behind the armchair, and when Bear comes licking at my face, I wrap myself around him to scrunch him in there too.There’s a huffing and bare feet slapping on the floor tiles as Emery comes out to see why we’re not answering. He comes all the way into the lounge room.‘I can see you!’ he says.Dad leaps out then, yelling, ‘Dog pile!’ He grabs Emery, pulls him onto the couch, Emery wailing and squirming as Dad and me and two big dogs pile on top, giggling and laughing and whining. I bounce off pretty quick coz I weigh even less than the dogs. I leap back on top again.Maroochy though, she’s trying to save Emery from the pile. She’s got his jeans leg and is tugging it out from under the pile.We roll off and Emery slides off the couch and goes skating across the floor with Maroochy tug, tug, tugging him.

‘Roochy!’ Emery yells, too busy holding his jeans up to stop the slide.‘She saved you!’ I yell. ‘Good, Roochy!’ She stops dragging and dances around like she’s the best, and she really is. I wrap my arms around her big neck and bury my face in her fur, and Emery does too.‘You’re a biggoose,’ Emery says. Then he grabs me and carries me to the couch and drops me down and plonks down beside me. Dogs scramble up on top of us, Dad plops down beside us.‘We’re a goosey family!’ Dad says and laughs.But I don’t laugh coz we’re not a family without Mum. ‘We will be when mother goose gets home,’ I say.‘Mother Goose is something from a kid’s book,’ Emery says.‘I mean our mother goose, Mum, you goose.’ I dig my elbow into Emery’s side and he squirms, and mutters, ‘Not my mum,’ like it’s a habit he can’t stop. Dad gives him a quick eyebrow tweak to tell him he’s annoying.‘Why can’t she come home now the power’s gone out?’ I ask Dad, coz that’s her job, to keep the power working, that’s why she’s away from home. But if there’s no power for her to keep going, she can come home.

‘I’m sure she’s on her way, Baby Bell,’ Dad says, and wraps a skinny arm around me. His arms are skinny but all muscle, so his hugs are strong. ‘The gates are down across the city. I’m sure there’s a way for her to get home now.’ ‘But how?’ I ask, coz the city was divided up into a lot of burbs when the food ran out, and rations had to be delivered to each gate, and the only people allowed to leave where they worked that day were the people who were not ‘Essential Personnel’. A whole lot of doctors and nurses and policemen and power employees haven’t come home to their families for eight months. And since the power went out three weeks ago, there’s not even been phone calls.‘You know your mum,’ Dad says. ‘She’s probably got a solar-powered armoured car smashing down the rubbish in the streets right now.’ I laugh at the idea, and even Emery laughs, coz that’s the thing about Mum, she’s always designing, dreaming, working. That’s how come she got into solar power early when Dad was still learning coal power, and how they met when she took over his