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Dicing with Death

Page 1

by Beth Chambers




  For Jack, Ben and Daniel

  who I love even more than chocolate.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter One

  ‘Mummeeee!’ Amy screamed.

  Max winced. His little sister had the ability to reach a glass-shattering decibel level.

  Amy stood in the doorway, her mouth open, her eyes wide.

  There were bits of doll everywhere. A severed head swung gently from the light shade.

  Max snapped his fingers at their dog Toby, who was playing catch with a plastic leg. Toby ignored Max completely and trotted over to Amy. Saliva drooled from his mouth as he proudly spat out the torso of a well-chewed doll.

  Max covered his ears as Amy gave another scream. This one wouldn’t stop at shattering glass – it could probably bring down entire buildings.

  ‘I’m telling Mum!’ Amy stamped hard on Max’s foot and marched out of the door. Max didn’t bother going after her. He knew without fail that he would get the blame for Toby sneaking into Amy’s room and decimating her dolls. Whatever he said, his mother would take Amy’s side.

  Max was more wound up about it than usual because so far he’d babysat every day of the Christmas holidays.

  A door banged somewhere downstairs.

  ‘Maximus, you get down these stairs right now.’ His mother sounded beyond annoyed. ‘I’ve only got a half-hour lunch break. I’m going to be late back to work. The last thing I need is you winding up your sister!’

  Max ran his fingers through his short black hair to flatten the spikes that had a mind of their own. He had a quick peek in the mirror to check that he was wearing his most innocent expression. He had a range of them – this one was called, Who me? Never!

  Twenty minutes later Max headed down the street with Amy in tow. His sister had refused to go anywhere near Toby since the doll incident, so he’d had to leave the dog at home. He walked quickly, knowing that Amy’s little legs would have to jog to keep up.

  ‘What’s the matter, Max?’ Amy called.

  ‘Everything,’ he said shortly.

  Angry thoughts zoomed around his head. He could pinpoint exactly when everything had started to go wrong. It had been seven years ago, when his dad had walked out.

  No, slunk out, Max thought, kicking a stone, and not just down the road. Ooh nooo. Dad’s got to head off to New Zealand on my fifth birthday. While I’m at Nan’s blowing out candles, he’s at home, packing his bags and blowing out his family.

  Max had only ever seen his mother cry once, and that was when she had read the note his dad had left on the kitchen table. After that she had put on a brave, although frequently stressed, face, and they had got along just fine.

  That was before she had met David.

  ‘Where we going, Max?’ Amy tugged on his coat.

  ‘The woods,’ he muttered.

  ‘Can I go piggy bank?’ she continued, undaunted by his mood.

  ‘I told you before, it’s called a piggy back,’ snapped Max.

  ‘Can I go piggy back then?’

  ‘No.’ But he slowed down so that she no longer had to jog to keep up.

  He had been seven when David had barged into their lives. By the time he was nine his mother had married David and, if that wasn’t bad enough, delivered Amy as a small, mewling rug-rat.

  Reaching the end of the street Max squeezed through a hole in some old fencing and scrambled down an overgrown bank into the forest. He turned to wait while Amy slowly inched her way through the gap.

  ‘Hurry up,’ he urged as she caught her pink jacket on a splinter.

  ‘Max, it’s torn!’ she wailed.

  ‘No it’s not. Look, if I just snap the thread like this…’ he began. What had been a small snag in the sleeve suddenly became a hole large enough to wiggle his finger in.

  Amy shrieked.

  Max hid a grin. ‘Whoops!’

  ‘I want to go to the den.’ Amy sniffed.

  Max pretended not to hear. He turned and crunched along the pine needle strewn path. The den was his private place. He’d built it deep in the forest where no one else would find it. Recently he had taken a plastic milk crate down there to use as a table. Surprise, surprise, it had been another babysitting day, and he had made the fatal mistake of taking Amy with him. Since then all she had done was nag him to take her back.

  ‘I’m not taking you. We’re going to the lake instead,’ Max told her.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m going to get myself one of the trees planted there.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because this Christmas I’m having my own tree in my own room.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because this Christmas,’ Max said, rubbing his hands up and down his arms to keep warm, ‘I’m spending on my own. No Mum, no David…’

  ‘No Amy?’ Amy said in a small voice.

  ‘And no Amy,’ Max said firmly. ‘This Christmas is going to be family-free.’

  Chapter Two

  ‘Will you still get presents from Father Christmas?’ Amy pouted, looking upset.

  Max stared at her. ‘What?’ he snapped. Not looking where he was going, his foot suddenly sank into something mushy, steaming and very smelly. ‘Shhh…ugar!’

  He did his best to scrape his trainer clean while ignoring Amy’s giggles. By the time they had reached the lake, Max could cheerfully have thrown her in. Knowing that he might have a question or two to answer at home if he did, instead he picked up a pebble and skimmed it across the black expanse of water. His real dad had taught him how to snap back his wrist and send the pebble scudding across the surface. He’d taught him other things too, like how to make bows and arrows, how to belch the national anthem and how to produce the most awesome farting sounds from under his armpit. He’d been a great dad. Not like David with his, ‘Tidy your room, Max,’ and ‘Let’s work out a payment plan for this broken window, Max.’

  Deep down, Max knew that his real dad was going to come back. He would have come back aeons ago if Mum hadn’t been so quick to remarry, he fumed, kicking some loose pebbles into the water.

  ‘Max?’ Amy tugged at his sleeve. ‘I’m getting cold.’

  Max glued a vacant smile to his face. ‘You can help me look for a tree. That will warm you up.’

  ‘OK.’ Amy pushed her hair out of her eyes and gazed around at the towering pines that dominated the landscape like giant forest guardians. She tugged off her gloves.

  ‘You’d best keep them on,’ Max told her, ‘you’ll freeze without them. Your fingers will turn into icicles and they’ll snap off.’

  Amy tramped off towards the nearest line of trees while Max headed off in the opposite direction. Moments later he heard his sister shriek.

  ‘Max, Max, I found the best tree ever!’

  Max hurried around the mouth of the lake and found Amy standing with her arms wrapped around a tree at least three times her size. ‘That’s not a tree, that’s a forest! Look, Amy, they’ve planted the smaller trees closer to the lake. Look there, OK?’

  ‘Is it bad to take them?’ Amy whispered. ‘Dad says stealing is wrong.’

  ‘It’s only bad if we get caught.’ Max winked.

  ‘You’ll be in big trouble.’

  ‘No, I won’t.’

  ‘Will.’

  Max ble
w out a long breath, sending a column of hot steam into the freezing air. ‘No I won’t, because I’ve been looking after you all holiday and the forest fairies have decided I deserve a reward.’

  ‘Forest fairies!’ Amy’s eyes widened.

  ‘Yep. They’re all over the place, watching everything you do. If you’re good they give you a present, but if you’re bad they punish you.’

  ‘How?’ Amy was hanging on his every word.

  ‘They play mean tricks on you. Sometimes they’ll follow you home and wait until it’s dark and you’re asleep. Then they creep into your bedroom and steal all of your teeth.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Amy said flatly.

  Max was impressed. Perhaps his baby sister was finally starting to grow up.

  But she went on, ‘Fairies wouldn’t play nasty tricks on you. Everyone knows fairies are kind. They only take your teeth if you leave them under the pillow an’ then they put money out for you.’

  Max shook his head and rolled his eyes. ‘Forget it!’ He stamped his feet on the ground to warm them up before returning his attention to tree hunting. He stomped off into the forest, breathing in the sweet smell of pine.

  Suddenly he saw just the one. It was a little taller than he was and bushy without sprouting untidily all over the place. Bingo!

  Max flipped open his pocket knife and pulled out the largest of the blades. Carefully he began to saw.

  Ten minutes later he was still sawing and his arm was burning like it was about to spontaneously combust. He kicked the tree in frustration.

  Infuriatingly, it barely trembled.

  At that moment, he became aware of a strange stillness in the forest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

  ‘Amy?’ he called.

  The glade suddenly didn’t feel safe. There was something creepy lurking in the air.

  ‘Amy, is that you?’ he called again, peering through the trees.

  She didn’t reply. Where was she?

  Max pocketed his knife and hurried back towards the lake. The lake! What if Amy had fallen in? She was only five. She couldn’t swim without her armbands. Max broke into a sprint, twisting and turning to avoid crashing into trees.

  Bursting through the bushes at the lakeside, Max imagined Amy’s pink jacket swollen with water and her small body face down in the water, her blonde hair streaming around her.

  He stared up and down the length of the lake.

  She wasn’t there.

  Max took deep gasps of relief before yelling out her name in a long-drawn-out cry.

  Flapping their wings, a flock of birds flew up into the air, startled from where they had been roosting in the treetops.

  But there was no responding shout from his sister.

  Max had to face it.

  Amy was missing.

  Chapter Three

  While Max pounded along the path toward his house, horrible thoughts forced their way into his head. What if Amy had fallen into the lake and had got all tangled up in the weeds? Why did I leave her on her own?

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw a bright flash appear through the trees. A moment later there was a second brilliant gleam of light. Something was lurking in the forest, keeping pace with him.

  ‘Who’s there?’ he yelled.

  He strained his ears but heard nothing but silence.

  Reaching the bank Max scrambled up it and squeezed through the fence. He quickly scanned the street.

  Nothing.

  It took Max three attempts to fit the key into his front door. Finally it turned and he stepped into the hall. Picking up the phone, he punched in his mother’s mobile number.

  ‘Hello?’ She sounded annoyed already.

  ‘Mum…’

  ‘Max. I hope you’ve got a good reason for ringing. I’m in the middle of a meeting.’

  ‘Amy’s missing,’ Max choked.

  ‘What do you mean? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Mum… I’ve lost her.’ His throat tightened and his voice went wobbly.

  ‘Where?’ his mother snapped.

  Quickly Max told her what had happened.

  ‘Right, phone the police and tell them what’s happened. I’m on my way home. Call 999, now!’ his mother rapped, machine-gun-style, and then hung up.

  * * *

  His mother and David arrived at exactly the same moment, bursting through the front door together.

  Max had never seen his mother look so chalk-coloured. As for David… he actually looked worried. Not once in the last six years had Max seen David’s face a degree over concerned. Broken windows, flaming rows, detentions, irate teachers and broken curfews had all been tackled by Mr Calm and Capable himself. Looking at this new anxious stepfather, Max suddenly wanted the old one back.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mum. I didn’t mean to lose her, honest.’

  His mother stared at him with cold blue eyes.

  ‘It’s all right, we know you didn’t.’ David filled the awkward silence.

  Max’s mother rounded on David. ‘Anything could have happened to Amy! She could be lying dead at the bottom of the lake, or have been abducted… and what are we doing? Sitting on our backsides doing nothing, that’s what!’

  She slammed into the living room.

  ‘She doesn’t blame you,’ David said gently.

  ‘What do you know?’ Max shouted. ‘Everything was fine until you came along. None of this would be happening if Mum hadn’t met you, because there wouldn’t be an Amy. It would just be the two of us, like before. I hate you! I wish you’d disappear too!’ His voice trailed off as two police officers walked in through the open front door.

  David’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish before he hustled the police into the living room and firmly closed the door.

  Minutes ticked by until Max couldn’t bear the suspense of waiting any more. He pressed his ear against the door and listened to his mother speaking.

  ‘I just don’t understand why you’re so interested in Max. He’s a good boy. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt Amy.’

  ‘In all likelihood your daughter has just wandered off and is lost, but given the circumstances, we have to establish whether there are any problems concerning family relationships. It may surprise you to know that in situations such as these it’s often a close family member who is involved,’ came the reply.

  Max felt sick. They were more or less accusing him of having done something to Amy!

  Without waiting to hear more, Max tore out of the house and raced into the rapidly gathering dark, only to stumble over the uneven paving slabs. Lying face down he lashed out with his fists in frustration, grazing all of his knuckles in the process. It didn’t make him feel any better, but he did it again anyway.

  I shouldn’t have run, said a voice in his head. All I’ve done is made myself look one hundred per cent guilty.

  The police had probably already passed his details on to the rest of the force branding him as a wanted criminal: highly dangerous, approach with caution. Well, he wouldn’t go home until he had searched the whole of the forest and found Amy. His den – that was the first place he should look.

  Max hurried along the frozen track, running as fast as he dared in the dark. Every snapping twig sounded like a pistol crack. He swerved off the track at roughly the point where he guessed his den was and held out his hands to feel his way. Pictures from horror movies forced their way into his mind, until he became convinced that behind every tree lurked hideous monsters.

  He crashed into a small bush and furiously fought off the freezing, finger-like branches before rolling away. He didn’t bother getting back up but stayed on his hands and knees, crawling in what he hoped was the right direction. Finally his hands felt mud instead of prickly pine needles.

  He was on the path that led to his den.

  Max scrambled down the twisting track that led into the tar black glade. ‘Amy!’ His voice rang out. ‘It’s Max. I’ve com
e to get you. Amy, where are you?’

  He was greeted with silence. Disappointment rushed over him. She’s not here. He sank onto the mossy ground and shivered with cold.

  Once again he began to sense he wasn’t alone. He gazed into the thick blackness. ‘Who’s there?’

  A glowing silver arc appeared in the distance. Max screwed up his eyes and realised it was bobbing towards him through the air.

  The object came to a halt just in front of him. Max’s breathing came fast and hard. It was the blade of a scythe. He scrambled up, wanting to run, but his feet were like two blocks of concrete.

  With a faint swish, a dark hood fell back to reveal the side profile of a face. No, not a face…

  Max staggered back a few steps as a skull of gleaming ivory swung around towards him.

  There was a seven-foot skeleton staring down at him.

  It was the Grim Reaper.

  Chapter Four

  Max stared into Death’s eyes – well, his eye sockets – until the distance between Max and the Grim Reaper appeared to lengthen. The skeleton’s ivory features blurred as he floated away. This was the time to make a run for it.

  Then Max saw what Death was moving towards.

  The Grim Reaper raised his scythe, and from it spilled an eerie blue light that trickled down onto a small, crumpled pink bundle.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Max whispered.

  His sister was curled up in a tangle of undergrowth.

  Max desperately wanted to race over to Amy but running towards her also meant running towards Death.

  The Grim Reaper looked across at him and appeared to grin. With two bony hands he brought down the long-handled scythe.

  Max bolted forward as the blade sliced down like a guillotine. Launching himself off the ground, he threw himself across Amy’s lifeless body. ‘No!’ he screamed. ‘You can’t have her!’

  Max waited for the slice of cold steel against his neck. Amy lay unmoving in his arms. Time ticked by, and still his head was safely attached to his body. Daringly, he squinted upwards. The Grim Reaper had vanished.

  Max turned his attention to Amy. ‘Please don’t let her be dead,’ he whispered, stripping off his coat and tucking it around her. Amy’s face was as white as one of her china dolls and her lips were purplish blue – the same colour she had been just minutes after she was born. David had called him into the hospital room where his mum was lying with Amy in her arms. ‘Say hello to your new baby sister,’ she’d smiled, dropping a kiss onto Amy’s head. Max had felt a sharp jab of jealousy. ‘Half-sister,’ he had pointed out.

 

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