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    The Poison Factory
    The Poison Factory
    The Poison Factory
    Ebook72 pages38 minutes

    The Poison Factory

    By Oisin McGann

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    About this ebook

    Deep in the cellars of the O'Brien Press is a safe that contained stories too horrible to be read. But somebody has broken into that safe and the stories have been released.
    This is one of those Forbidden Files.
    'They called it 'The Fart Factory', it smelled so bad. The Kanker & Byle Chemical Company was a towering heap of buildings and pipes and walkways, just piled on top of each other. Then somebody had stuck some chimneys on the top, like candles on the world's ugliest birthday cake'.
    When the Root Street Gang lose their football in the Kanker & Byle Chemical Factory, Gaz sends his little brother Joey in to get it back. And then they lose Joey. Faced with returning home without his brother and facing his Mam's wrath, Gaz has no choice but to lead his friends Hayley and Damo into the factory to find Joey and their football. But this is no ordinary factory, and in no time at all, Gaz, Hayley and Damo encounter the living dead, giant insects, and a man with the most disgusting job in the world. But there is an even worse fate awaiting them at the end of their search!
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherThe O'Brien Press
    Release dateSep 14, 2012
    ISBN9781847174932
    The Poison Factory
    Author

    Oisin McGann

    Born in Dublin in 1973, Oisín McGann spent his childhood there and in Drogheda, County Louth. Art college ruined any chance he had of getting a real job, so when he left in 1992 he set himself up as a freelance illustrator. In 1998, he moved to London, and through no fault of his own, he ended up working in advertising as an art director and copywriter. After three and a half years, he began to fear for his immortal soul. He returned to Ireland in the summer of 2002 much as he had left—with no job, no home, and some meager savings. Ever the optimist, he now works once more as an illustrator and mercenary artist by day and escapist writer by night.

    Read more from Oisin Mc Gann

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      Book preview

      The Poison Factory - Oisin McGann

      1

      Going Under The Wall

      They called it ‘The Fart Factory’, it smelled so bad. The Kanker & Byle Chemical Company was a towering heap of buildings and pipes and walkways, just piled on top of each other. Then somebody had stuck some chimneys on the top, like candles on the world’s ugliest birthday cake. Gluey smoke rose out of the chimneys, but then fell over the sides and poured to the ground, too oily and lazy to float up into the sky.

      And it was a spooky place too. Apart from the delivery trucks that only showed up late at night, nobody was ever seen going in, or coming out. Nobody knew anybody who had ever been inside. Some people said the place was haunted, that it was run by ghosts and ghouls.

      Or maybe robots.

      There was only one piece of grass in the area, and it lay right next to the factory wall. Like most things near the factory, the grass was brown, and slightly greasy, but it was still better than the tarmac of the road for playing football. And you were less likely to get hit by a car. So this was where Gaz Flynn and the other members of the Root Street Gang played soccer.

      It started out like a normal Saturday – Gaz, Joey, Damo and Hayley had gone out to the brown to play football. Gaz and Damo were always the captains of their teams, because Joey (Gaz’s baby brother) was only seven, and couldn’t kick a ball to save his life, and Hayley was, well … a girl.

      It stopped being a normal Saturday when Joey took careful aim at the goal painted onto the wall of the factory and kicked the ball as hard as he could, sending it soaring into the air and over the factory wall.

      ‘You maggot!’ Gaz snapped at his little brother, grabbing him by his mop of thick, black hair. ‘That’s the third time you’ve done that.’

      ‘It was an accident!’ Joey snapped back, pulling himself free.

      ‘It’s always an accident with you, you little twerp,’ Gaz shouted at him, his brown face going a strange purple colour. ‘This is the last time. You’re going in there and getting that ball!’

      The others gaped at him in shock.

      ‘You can’t send him in there, man,’ Damo gasped, in his best American accent. ‘Not into the factory. That’s way too cruel.’

      Damo always tried to act like he was some US rap star (even though he was from Root Street like the rest of them) but he’d never even been to America. He wore his baseball cap crooked all the time and made strange shapes with his hands while he talked. He also wished he had African blood in him, like Gaz and Joey, but he was as white as vanilla ice cream and had red hair.

      ‘I’ve had enough of him,’ Gaz declared. ‘That’s the third ball he’s lost in there.’

      He turned to his brother.

      ‘That’s it. If you ever want to play with us again, you’re going in to get that ball.’

      Joey looked as if he

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