Hour of the Doomed Dog

by Sam Hay

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Copyright

  The hotel’s revolving doors whizzed round three times, then Toby burst out into the lobby.

  “AWESOME!” he squealed. “Your turn!”

  Joe grinned at his little brother. He knew they shouldn’t be playing in the revolving doors but it was hard to resist…

  It was a sunny Friday afternoon and the Edmunds family had just arrived at the Grand Hotel in Skipton Sands. Dad had gone to fetch the rest of the bags. Mum and Sarah, Joe’s big sister, were waiting at the reception desk, and Joe and Toby were supposed to be sitting quietly on the sofas.

  “Boys!” snapped Mum as the doors spun round again and Joe tumbled out. She gave them that look. The one that meant they were millimetres from a mega-blaster telling-off!

  But Toby was already heading back to the doors.

  “Toby!” bellowed Mum. “Stop that at once! You might get stuck.”

  “Your mother’s right,” said a voice. It belonged to a silvery-haired old lady who had appeared from the office behind the reception desk. “Accidents do happen!”

  “Oh, hello,” said Mum. “My name’s Helen Edmunds. We’ve got a booking for two nights.”

  The lady glanced down at a big book on the desk. “Oh yes, you’re here for the wedding. Welcome to the Grand Hotel – I’m Mrs Stanway, the owner. Please call me Sylvia.”

  Joe looked around the lobby. It was huge, with a high ceiling and wood-panelled walls. There were lots of weird ornaments dotted about, too – a stuffed fox inside a glass case, a giant vase with a blue whale painted on the side. There was even a collection of samurai swords pinned to a wall.

  “Look, Joe!” Toby had found a large brass gong. He picked up a wooden stick that hung next to it…

  DUNGGGG!

  Sarah gave a shriek.

  “Toby!” Mum snapped. “Put that down! I’m so sorry,” she added to Mrs Stanway. “He’s a bit overexcited about staying in a hotel.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Mrs Stanway replied. “The gong isn’t valuable. None of my things are. I just like collecting interesting objects.” She smiled at Toby. “You should look at the suit of armour on the landing upstairs. My granddaughter says there’s a ghost inside.”

  “Wow!” breathed Toby. “Can I see it?”

  “Maybe later,” Mum called, but Toby was already racing up the stairs, two at a time.

  Joe was about to follow, when he noticed a small dog sleeping near the bottom of the stairs. It had a long, thin body and droopy ears, and it was snoring loudly.

  “Joe! Give me a hand!” Dad was struggling through the revolving doors, his arms full of luggage. He shuffled forward, then staggered out into the reception area, dropping the bags.

  The dog looked up and blinked a few times. Joe noticed it had weird eyes – big and staring and green. The dog stood up stiffly and Joe noticed its short legs. It was a sausage dog! Then suddenly the dog lunged towards Dad…

  RUFF! RUFF! RUFF! RUFF! RUFF!

  It was barking at Dad and baring its teeth.

  Dad ignored the dog and calmly carried on picking up the stuff he’d dropped.

  The dog leaped forward as though it was about to sink its teeth into Dad’s ankles.

  “Watch out!” cried Joe.

  But Dad didn’t even look up. “Come on, Joe!” he said impatiently. “Help me with the bags.”

  “But…” Joe began.

  And then the dog stopped barking and sat back. “It’s not him. He looked a bit like one of the bad guys for a minute, but he’s not!”

  Joe gasped. The dog had spoken. This was no ordinary dog – it was an undead pet! That explained why Dad had ignored it – he couldn’t see it!

  “Hello, Joe,” the dog said, turning to face him. “My name is Frankie. I’ve been waiting for you. There’s going to be a robbery and you’ve got to stop it!”

  Joe felt a tingle of excitement. An undead pet was the last thing he’d expected to see! They often turned up at home, demanding that Joe solve their problems – they were unable to pass over to the afterlife until he helped them. But he hadn’t expected one to turn up at his cousin Megan’s wedding. Maybe the weekend wasn’t going to be quite as dull as he’d thought!

  “We need to talk!” yelped the dog, who was pacing unsteadily around the lobby.

  Joe noticed it had stitches round its middle as though it had been chopped in half and joined back together.

  “Are you listening?” snapped the dog impatiently.

  Joe nodded, but he couldn’t reply in front of his family – undead pets were invisible to them. In fact, they were invisible to everyone apart from Joe. Thanks to the magical Egyptian amulet that his great-uncle Charlie had given him, Joe was the only person who could see the creatures.

  “We’re on the second floor,” said Mum. “Mrs Stanway says there’s a small lift that we can use to take the luggage up.” She handed two bags to Joe – the first was his own rucksack, the other one was pink.

  “Hey!” grumbled Joe, forgetting the undead dog for a moment. “Why do I have to carry Sarah’s bag?”

  “Because I’m carrying my bridesmaid’s dress!” said Sarah importantly. She pushed past him with a large clothes bag in her arms and followed her parents to the lift.

  Joe rolled his eyes. Sarah being a bridesmaid was all he’d heard about for weeks! She and their cousin Scarlet – another bridesmaid – had been talking on the phone every day about hairstyles and dresses and shoes.

  “There’s no room for you, Joe,” Sarah called from the lift. “Take the stairs!”

  The lift doors closed with a PING! and Joe was left alone with the undead dog. Even Mrs Stanway had gone back into her office.

  “You’d better tell me what’s going on,” whispered Joe, sitting down on the bottom step. “Who are you?”

  The dog sat up straight with his nose in the air. “My full name is Felix Von Frankfurter. And I live here!” He gave an important sniff. “I belong to Sylvia, the lady who owns this hotel. Or at least, I used to … before I died,” he added in a smaller voice.

  “How did it happen?” Joe mumbled. “Your death, I mean.”

  The dog glanced over at the revolving doors. “I had a bit of an accident…”

  “What? You got stuck in the doors?”

  Frankie nodded. “Dachshunds and revolving doors don’t really go well together.”

  Joe looked at Frankie’s long, thin body. He could imagine it would be easy for a dog like that to get a bit tangled up.

  “Sylvia never let me near them,” Frankie sniffed. “I was far too precious to her. She always took me out the back way. But last Monday was different. I had to use the revolving doors.”

  “Why?”

  “To chase the bad men!” Frankie growled. His little beady eyes bulged out and the hairs on his coat prickled up like a hedgehog.

  “Calm down,” said Joe. “Just tell me what happened.”

  “Ouch!” Joe grimaced.

  Frankie stood up and began to pace around again.

  “But why did you bark at my dad?” Joe asked.

  Frankie came to a wobbly stop. “Because he looked a bit like one of the robbers. He was wearing the same shorts.” Frankie puffed his chest out. “I’ve been keeping watch in case they come back – like a guard dog!”

  Joe smiled. Weren’t guard dogs supposed to be big, fierce dogs like Rottweilers and Alsatians?
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  “And you’ve got to help, too!” added Frankie.

  “Help keep a lookout, you mean?”

  Frankie nodded. “AND stop them from stealing anything!”

  Just then there was a loud DONG! as a clock chimed in one of the rooms off the hallway.

  The hairs on Frankie’s coat stood on end. “Time is running out, Joe! You’ve got to find out what they’re going to steal – and quickly, so we can stand guard tomorrow and stop them!”

  “Joe?” Dad was coming down the stairs. “Who are you talking to?”

  Joe felt his face go red.

  “You’re not still sulking about having to carry Sarah’s bag, are you?”

  Joe shook his head.

  “Come upstairs and see your room. You’ve got a great view of the beach.”

  Frankie gave a whine. “Don’t be long, Joe. I’m depending on you!”

  “That’s mine and Mum’s room,” said Dad, once they’d reached the second-floor landing. “Sarah is sharing with Scarlet in that one,” he added, pointing down the corridor. “And you and Toby are in here.”

  The room was huge, with two big beds. Toby had already decided which one was his, and was bouncing up and down on it.

  “It’s amazing!” he panted. “We’ve got our own bathroom! And our own fridge with fizzy drinks and chocolate in it!”

  “Hey!” said Dad. “You haven’t been raiding the mini-bar, have you? We have to pay for that stuff, Toby. And stop bouncing!”

  Joe kicked off his trainers and stretched out on his bed. It was bigger than his one at home. And more springy, too!

  “Awesome,” Joe said. For a moment, he forgot all about Frankie’s troubles. “Can we go and explore?”

  Just then Sarah put her head round the door. “Mum wants to know where her bag with the hair things is. Me and Scarlet need to practise our bridesmaids’ hairstyles!”

  “It’s in the wardrobe in your room, Sarah,” said Dad. Then he turned to the boys. “Come on, let’s go and check out the beach.”

  “Where are you going?” Frankie was waiting for Joe at the bottom of the stairs. He had a sulky look on his face.

  Joe glanced around to make sure no one was listening. The lobby was empty and Toby was already in the revolving doors with Dad close behind.

  “I’m going out!” whispered Joe. “To the beach.”

  “What about the robbery?”

  “I won’t be long… Anyway, you said it’s not happening until tomorrow.”

  “What if they come early?” whined Frankie. “They could strike any time!”

  But Joe was already going through the revolving doors. And he was pretty sure Frankie wouldn’t follow him in there…

  “Wow!” Joe murmured, as he walked along the seafront with Toby and his dad.

  Skipton Sands had a big sandy beach and a long pier with games and rides on it. There were shops selling sweets and souvenirs and a tall sea wall, where a group of boys were catching crabs.

  “Can we do that? Please, Dad!” begged Toby.

  “Yeah, can we?” Joe said. “They sell crabbing stuff there,” he added, pointing to a nearby kiosk.

  “Go on, then!” Dad pulled out some coins and handed them to Joe.

  A few minutes later he and Toby were back with a large bucket, a net, some fishing line and a squidgy packet of crab bait.

  “Urghh!” said Toby when Joe unwrapped it. “Gross!”

  “Crabs like it!” Joe squished the bait into the little net bag and then he attached it to the line like he’d seen the other boys do.

  He crouched down and dropped the line over the side into the sea.

  “Have you got one yet?” asked Toby excitedly, peering over Joe’s shoulder.

  Just then, Joe felt a slight tug on the line. He quickly pulled up but the crab let go of the bait and dropped back into the water.

  “Try pulling it up more slowly,” Dad said.

  Joe tried again, but minutes went by and there was nothing. Then Joe felt a slight tug. This time he pulled gently…

  “It’s massive!” shrieked Toby.

  “Hold it by its back,” said Dad, as Joe tried to take the wriggling crab off the line. “Then it can’t nip you.”

  “Can we keep it?” breathed Toby.

  Dad laughed. “I don’t think Mum would like a pet crab! No, Toby, they all go back in the sea.”

  When Joe had caught three more crabs, it was Toby’s turn. Joe was watching the crabs crawling over each other in the bucket, when suddenly something bashed into him…

  “There you are!” yapped Frankie. “Come quickly! I’ve seen the robbers on the beach.”

  Joe glanced over to make sure Dad and Toby weren’t watching. “No!” Joe whispered. “I’m crabbing!”

  Frankie glared at him. “Come NOW!” he demanded.

  Joe scowled back and shook his head.

  Frankie’s eyes bulged, his tail drooped and he gave a long growl, showing green slimy gums and sharp yellow teeth. Then he jumped forward and head-butted Joe’s bucket, knocking it over.

  “Hey!” squealed Joe, trying to grab the crabs before they escaped. But the biggest one nipped his hand and all four crabs scuttled back over the ledge into the water.

  “No!” groaned Toby.

  “Sorry, I knocked them over…” Joe muttered.

  Frankie, meanwhile, was standing to attention, one ear twitching and staring off into the distance. And then…

  “There they are!” he yelped. “The baddies are on the beach!” Frankie took off like a wonky rocket, his stitches stretching and bulging as he ran.

  “Hello!”

  Joe felt a sharp poke in his back and spun round to find Damian, his annoying cousin, smirking at him.

  Damian was the same age as Joe, but he was bigger and louder and twice as good at everything. And he made sure Joe knew it!

  “Are you crabbing?” Damian asked, looking down at Joe’s empty bucket. “Me, too!” He held up a giant bucket full of wriggling crabs. “Where are your crabs?”

  Joe frowned. “Well…”

  Damian sniggered. “You should try crabbing round the other side of the beach. Look how many I’ve caught!”

  “Hi, guys!” Uncle Len, Damian’s dad, loomed behind him. He was the size of a grizzly bear – and almost as hairy!

  “Hello, Len,” said Dad, shaking his brother-in-law’s hand. “When did you get here?”

  “Oh, hours ago!” beamed Len. “Me and Damian wanted to put our new car through its paces.”

  “It’s ace!” Damian smirked. “A BMW Z4 twin-power turbo!”

  “You’ll have to come for a spin,” grinned Uncle Len. “It’s got some amazing gadgets… Your dad’s not still driving that old banger, is he?” he added, winking at Joe.

  “Where’s Kate?” asked Dad, changing the subject.

  Auntie Kate, Damian’s mum, was Joe’s mum’s older sister.

  “Back at the hotel, talking weddings.” Len pretended to yawn. “We thought we’d escape to the beach. It looks like you had the same idea!”

  “Look!” shouted Toby. “I caught it!” He held up the tiniest crab Joe had ever seen.

  “Oh, well done!” Uncle Len smiled. “Shall I take a photo of you boys with your crabs?” Then he looked down at Joe’s empty bucket. “Where are yours, Joe?”

  “Wow!” shrieked Toby, as they walked through the archway on to the pier. “If you hook a duck, you win a fish.”

  “No way!” muttered Joe. He’d recently had a run-in with a very grumpy undead goldfish and it had put him off fish for life!

  “Over here!” called Damian, who was standing by another stall with Dad and Uncle Len. “Bet I can knock a coconut off before you, Joe!”

  The boys paid their money and picked up their weapons – three little yellow bean bags!

  DONK!

  “YES!” shouted Damian, as his first bean bag knocked down a coconut.

  DONK!

  Another one fell.

  DONK!


  Damian took down the third coconut and punched the air triumphantly.

  “Your turn, Joe!” said Damian smugly.

  SPLAT!

  Damian sniggered as Joe’s bag hit the back of the tent. “Come on, Joe! It’s easy!”

  Joe tried again.

  THUNK!

  His bean bag fell short, landing on the floor.

  “Bad luck, Joe,” called Dad.

  “Don’t try so hard,” boomed Uncle Len. “Do it like Damian!”

  Joe resisted the urge to throw his last bean bag at his cousin’s head. Instead, he hurled it at a coconut.

  “YES!” yelled Toby, as the bag hit the coconut. It wobbled … but stayed in its cup.

  Joe let out a groan.

  “You need more practice,” laughed Uncle Len, high-fiving Damian.

  “That’s one–nil to me!” Damian said to Joe.

  “What?”

  “I beat you! So that’s one game to me.”

  Joe scowled. It was always the same with Damian. Everything was a competition.

  “Joe’s great at the claw crane,” said Toby.

  “The what?” Damian’s eyes narrowed.

  “You know … the grabber thing that picks up a prize,” explained Toby.

  “Show me,” said Damian.

  They raced into the amusement arcade, straight towards a big glass box stuffed with toys and sweets.

  “Easy,” said Damian, putting his money in the slot. “I’m going for the skull!” He wiggled the joystick and the claw began moving until it was almost directly above a small plastic skull filled with sweets.

  “Just a bit more…” said Damian.

  But then the machine began to flash.

  “It’s about to grab!” squealed Toby.

  “I’m not ready,” wailed Damian as the claw dived down to grab the skull.

  “Missed.” Toby beamed triumphantly.

  The empty claw returned to its position.

  “That’s not fair,” Damian glared. “No one told me I was up against a timer!”