They called him Useless. He kept proving them wrong.

Ewen Euston is not the obvious hero. He is the overlooked kid, the one with the world’s most embarrassing nickname, the one nobody watches closely enough to stop. Which turns out, book after book, to be exactly the right qualification for the job.

A Useless Series follows Ewen and his friends through five middle-grade science fiction adventures, each one a complete story and each one funnier and more dangerous than it sounds. Fast, dry, genuinely tense. For readers aged 9 to 12 who are ready for books that respect their intelligence and do not slow down.

 

 

Continue the Series:

 

 

Chapter 1

 

It was Saturday morning, and the grand opening of the renovated amusement park. It had been renamed The New Carnival.

Practically everybody in the district was there except my family and Perry’s Mum and his five brothers. Perry’s mother had snapped she didn’t have the money for that sort of foolishness, and my parents weren’t interested anyway.

After the speeches, everyone clapped, crowded around the ticket office and then started pushing through the turnstiles

It was thirty dollars to get in and that was for kids. Adults were fifty dollars each, and family tickets were even more. This was why Perry and I were still outside.

“They reckon there’s a new ghost train and a new haunted castle,” Perry said wistfully.

“And everything is automated and voice activated and there are not supposed to be any operators,” I reported.

We hung around a bit longer. No one offered us any free tickets.

“Come on Useless,” Perry grumbled. “We’ll get in the back way.”

“Place is like Fort Knox,” I scoffed. My name happens to be Ewen Euston, but I mainly get Useless. “What back way?”

“They dammed the creek to make the lake, right.”

“So?”

“They put in a pipe for the runoff under their high wall across to the swamp.”

“So?”

“There are sure to be inspection hatches down to the pipe from inside.”

“Worth a try,” I agreed. We ran around the high wall of the carnival grounds to the swamp. “If there are no operators, there’ll be no one to notice us getting in.”

“Cool!” Perry agreed.

A few minutes pounding shifted the bars from the big pipe opening from the crumbly cement.

 

There was only a dribble of water along the bottom of the pipe. We walked through under the high wall.

“A special private entrance just for us,” Perry gloated.

We climbed the iron rungs up to a grating and came up into a lane between one of the rides.

So this is how we joined the carnival through the back entrance, and saved everyone – not that we got any thanks for it.