Material possessions are physical
barriers along the seamless path to
spiritual enlightenment.
“Are those lyrics from one of his flesh-metal songs?” asked Resus, nonplussed.
“It means he wants us to leave all our stuff outside,” Luke translated.
“Sorry,” said Twonk. “Vein won’t allow you to take anything into the cave.”
“Anything?” asked Cleo. “What about our jackets and stuff?”
Twonk shook his head. “Indoor clothes only, I’m afraid – and that’s an improvement. It took me ages to talk him out of nudie Tuesdays.”
“Just what we need,” Resus remarked as Cleo and Luke bent to untie their hiking boots. “A weird zombie guru with a dress code!”
Cleo pulled her jumper over her head. “OK, then,” she said. “Let’s go.”
“We can’t yet,” said Luke, looking pointedly at Resus’s cape.
“What?” demanded the vampire. “I’m cold!”
“But there’s a mountain of ‘material possessions’ inside your cape,” Luke reminded him.
Resus unclipped his cloak with a scowl and dropped it onto the pile of jackets and jumpers. “If that goes missing, I won’t be happy,” he grumbled. Shivering, he led the way into the dark interior of the cave.
Meanwhile, behind him, the baby yeti darted out from a nearby boulder. Spying the pile of clothes, it moved closer to the cave. Then, with a bound, it leapt onto the pile and burrowed deep into Resus’s cape.
Chapter Three
The Cave
The mouth of the cave gave way to a tunnel that twisted and turned before opening up into a large chamber. Coarse straw mats covered the stone floor and the room was lit by dozens of misshapen yellow and brown candles. Their flickering flames cast eerie shadows on the rough stone walls.
Cleo pulled her bandages up to cover her nose. “Eurgh, what’s that smell?”
“I think it’s the candles,” said Resus, leaning in to sniff. “It’s either loganberry or sycamore…”
“It’s neither,” Twonk informed him. “It’s earwax.”
Resus quickly pulled away. “What?”
“Vein makes them himself,” Twonk explained. “Each one takes a week or so of digging around inside his ears – although sometimes he needs my wax, too. He says it’s nature’s way of providing him with light.”
“Nature’s way of making me vomit, more like,” groaned Resus. “Why’s he making candles out of earwax?”
“I did try to buy him some nicer smelling ones from the village,” said Twonk. “But he started on about material possessions again.”
“Where is Vein, anyway?” asked Luke. “We need to give something back to—”
His words were interrupted by a light, jangling sound. A tall figure appeared in the shadows at the back of the cavern and began to dance towards them. He was dressed in ragged white robes and shaking a home-made tambourine.
Twonk dropped to his knees and bowed his head towards his master. “Please welcome the all-knowing zombie emu.”
“I think you mean zombie guru…”
“Oh yeah,” grinned Twonk. “Guru!”
The figure stopped a short distance away and continued to dance awkwardly on the spot.
“He won’t come any closer unless you kneel down and bow,” Twonk hissed.
Resus snorted. “If he thinks I’m going to—” Luke elbowed him in the ribs, and reluctantly the vampire sank to his knees beside his friends. The figure danced closer.
“Vein will now shower you with his wisdom,” Twonk announced.
Resus glanced up at the nearest candle. “When it comes to being showered, it’s not his wisdom I’m worried about…”
Vein shook his tambourine over each of the children in turn. It appeared to be made from a piece of human skin stretched over a jawbone. Finger joints and knuckles were tied around the edge and they clattered together musically.
Finally, Vein sat down cross-legged on one of the reed mats and gestured for his visitors to do the same. His green skin glowed eerily in the flickering candlelight, and his jet-black eyes reflected the yellow flames. Cleo shuddered as she remembered that Vein injected ink into his decomposing eyeballs to give the impression of always wearing sunglasses.
Luke cleared his throat. “Vein, we have travelled—”
But the zombie lifted a rotting hand to stop him. Then he smiled, revealing his three or four remaining teeth, and began to grunt, “Oo ah um a onn ay…”
“You have come a long way…” translated Twonk.
“We have,” agreed Cleo.
“Or er-ee a een i-i-ul…”
“Your journey has been difficult,” said Twonk.
Luke pictured the moment the mother yeti had clambered onto the narrow mountain ledge. “You could say that.”
Vein’s eyes twinkled in the light of the flames. “U oo a eh-al ee-on or u-in oo ee ee oo-ay, a-eh oo?”
Twonk looked blank.
“U oo a eh-al ee-on?” repeated Vein.
“Er, I don’t know exactly,” Twonk admitted with a shrug. “I think it’s about half past two…”
Resus sighed. “As much fun as it is playing Guess What the Loony’s Saying, don’t you think it would be easier for us to just give Vein back his tongue?”
Luke pulled the matchbox out of his pocket and slid it open to reveal a lump of diseased flesh. “We are very grateful for your gift,” he said, addressing the zombe guru, “but we now have to return all the founding fathers’ relics. You see, there’s a doorway leading out of Scream Street that—”
Vein pointed excitedly at the matchbox. “A-eria oh-eh-on! A-eria oh-eh-on!”
“Material possession! Material possession!” said Twonk, decoding the grunts.
“It’s not a material possession,” said Luke. “It’s your tongue!” He pulled a mini sewing kit from the other pocket of his jeans. “Now, who wants to do the honours?”
“Where’s Cleo?” asked Resus, emerging from the cave and collecting his cape from the pile of coats and jumpers.
“Washing her hands in a little stream over there,” said Luke, pointing. “She said that sewing Vein’s tongue back in was the most disgusting thing she’s ever done.”
“And that’s from someone who takes her internal organs out of the fridge once a week to clean them,” grinned Resus. He clipped his cape back around his neck and pulled it across his shoulders. Shrugging uncomfortably, he readjusted it with a frown.
“What’s the matter?” asked Luke.
“Dunno,” replied Resus. “It just doesn’t feel right… Heavier, somehow.”
“That will be the weight of your material possessions,” announced a voice from the entrance to the cave. The boys turned to see Vein striding towards them. “You should cast them aside, and then you may float upon the clouds.”
“His tongue seems to be working, then,” muttered Resus.
“Indeed it is!” exclaimed Vein. “And now that I have it back, I can foretell your future.”
“No you can’t,” said Resus. “That’s impossible.”
“Don’t let Cleo hear you say that,” Luke remarked.
“I don’t care who hears me,” Resus continued firmly. “Fortune-telling is a sham.”
Vein’s eyes widened. “Then how can I see there is a long journey ahead?”
Resus shrugged. “Probably because you know we have to climb all the way back down this mountain to get to the Hex Hatch.”
The zombie scowled. “I predict you will be confronted by danger…”
“Not if we can avoid the yetis,” said Resus. “Come on, admit it, there’s nothing you can ‘predict’ that you couldn’t easily have guessed…”
“Oh, really?” smirked Vein.
“Yes, really!” Resus grinned.
“You shall cross to another place,” said Vein, striding closer.
“Yep,” agreed Resus, taking a step forward himself. “Through the Hex Hatch and back int
o Scream Street.”
Now the two of them stood face to face.
“You will meet an old acquaintance in a new guise…”
“Zeal Chillchase is a shapeshifter – he could look like anything by the time we get home.”
“Many strangers will surround you.”
“Scream Street’s full of normals!”
“Another wishes you harm.”
“Sir Otto will do anything to stop us closing the doorway, as you well know!”
Vein paused for a moment before producing his trump card. “You’re wearing pink underpants!”
There was a moment’s silence, broken by Cleo, who had just at that moment reappeared. “Are you?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter!” cried Resus, pulling his cape tighter around his shoulders. “Anyone can stand around dressed in a sheet and guess things – but it doesn’t mean they can predict the future!” With a final glare at the zombie soothsayer, he turned and stomped off down the mountain path.
“I appear to have upset your friend,” said Vein as Luke zipped up his coat.
“He’s just the sceptical type,” Luke replied. “He probably wouldn’t believe in vampires if he didn’t have to brush his fangs in the mirror each morning.”
Vein’s brow furrowed. “I thought vampires didn’t have reflections.”
“It’s a long story…” Cleo smiled.
“We’d better catch him up,” said Luke. “Thanks for taking back your tongue.”
“My pleasure,” the zombie assured them. “I’m glad to have been some use to you. But, please – heed the warnings I imparted to your vampire friend. You shall cross to another world and face great danger.”
“We’ll bear it in mind,” said Luke. “Thanks again for—”
“That’s not all,” Vein interrupted. “Someone will be seriously injured, and it will affect them for the rest of their life.”
“Injured?” gasped Cleo. “Who?”
“That I cannot see,” Vein admitted. “All I can tell you is that the solution to your problems will be a knockout.”
“Sounds exciting,” lied Luke, eager to get away. “And we promise to be careful.” Then with a final wave to Twonk, he and Cleo turned to follow Resus down the mountain. Once they were out of earshot, Luke said softly, “I’m worried…”
“What about?” asked the mummy. “That Vein’s right? That one of us is going to get injured?”
“Partly,” Luke replied. “But more that Resus didn’t deny he was wearing pink underpants…”
Chapter Four
The Visitor
When Luke, Resus and Cleo stepped through the Hex Hatch and back into Scream Street, they found Zeal Chillchase standing there disguised as a stone gargoyle.
“There you go,” proclaimed Resus. “My fortune-telling abilities are every bit as good as Vein’s! ‘You will meet an old acquaintance in a new guise’, my fangs!”
There was a sound like milk being poured into a glass as Chillchase changed back to his usual shape. A pigeon that had been perched on top of the statue’s head flapped away in surprise. “The deception was necessary to avoid the prying eyes of the normals,” explained the Tracker.
Cleo peered over the hedge. Zeal had opened the Hex Hatch in a secluded garden, but there was always the possibility a nosy tourist would spot the shimmering window in the air. “You stood guard all this time? We’ve been gone for almost a whole day!”
“I couldn’t risk the Hex Hatch being discovered,” the Tracker replied. “Several normals came this way, but they turned back when they found an oversized garden ornament blocking their path.”
“You can close it now,” said Luke. “Vein took his tongue back with no trouble.”
“No trouble?” said Resus scornfully. “You mean apart from the freezing cold, vicious yetis and a seriously deluded zombie?” He pulled at his cape. “And I don’t know why this thing’s so uncomfortable all of a sudden!”
“Maybe so you’ll still have something to moan about?” suggested Cleo. “You’ve had a face like a goblin licking bile off a thistle ever since we left the cave!”
“I just don’t see why Vein has to live at the top of a mountain,” grumbled Resus. “Could he have made it any harder for us to give him back his tongue?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Luke agreed, “but the point is that we did give back the tongue.” He turned to Zeal Chillchase. “Four relics down, two to go.”
“I know,” said the Tracker. “Sir Otto flew into a rage when the purple arch over the doorway exploded and the entrance to Scream Street shrank even more. He’s been searching for the three of you ever since.”
“And now he’s found you,” snarled a voice. The landlord was storming across the lawn towards them, chewing on a thick cigar. “You’re not the only shapeshifter around these parts, Chillchase!” The startled pigeon landed back in the garden beside the group and suddenly began to grow, its wings stretching into gangly arms and grey feathers melting away to reveal lank, ginger hair.
“Dixon!” exclaimed Resus.
“Hi guys!” beamed Sir Otto’s nephew when he had returned to his own form. “How was your trip?”
Sir Otto rounded on his nephew. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” he shouted, blowing clouds of stinking cigar smoke into his face.
Dixon shrugged. “I just wanted to know if they’d had a good time,” he said. “It doesn’t cost anything to be polite.”
“No,” bellowed Sneer, “but these three are costing me thousands by returning those blasted relics! People are already having to stoop as they enter Scream Street. At this rate, all the visitors will end up with bad backs. Then they’ll never come back!”
“Maybe you should just give up and admit that we’ve won,” suggested Luke.
“Never!” Sir Otto snarled. “I’ll milk this oddball community for every penny I can get! It’s about time you freaks started paying your way.”
Zeal Chillchase stepped in front of Luke. “This is not the kind of behaviour G.H.O.U.L. expects from its landlords,” he growled.
“And what are you going to do about it?” Sneer responded. “You can’t tell G.H.O.U.L. what I’m up to, or they’ll find out that you’ve been helping the same children who opened the doorway out of Scream Street in the first place!”
The Tracker glared at Sir Otto for a moment, then without another word he turned away and readied himself to close the Hex Hatch.
“You see?” snarled the landlord. “There’s absolutely nothing you can do.”
“We’ll stop you,” said Cleo, sticking out her tongue. “Scream Street will be peaceful again before long.”
GRRRRAAAAWWWLLL!
Just as Cleo finished speaking, a vicious growl sounded and the mother yeti burst through the closing Hex Hatch. Before Chillchase could respond, the creature picked him up off the ground and threw him across the garden.
GRRRRAAAAWWWLLL!
The yeti sniffed at the air and caught the stench of Sir Otto’s pungent cigar. With a disgusted howl, it lashed out at the landlord with a huge paw, sending him crashing back into the hedge. The white silk scarf he always wore around his neck was torn away, revealing strips of damaged flesh – all that was left of Sir Otto’s throat as the result of a boyhood injury.
The yeti loomed over the landlord, glaring down at him and chewing on the stolen scarf.
GRRRRAAAAWWWLLL!
“Ge-ge-ge-get away from my uncle,” stammered Dixon, and the yeti spun round and began to advance on him instead. The landlord’s nephew backed away, trembling. Then he tripped over a garden gnome and crashed to the ground. The yeti pounced.
Dixon screwed up his eyes, waiting for the impact, but the creature ignored him and scooped up the gnome instead. It paused briefly to peer at the figure’s painted features, then stuffed it between its jaws and began to crunch loudly.
“And I thought my dad was a noisy eater,” whispered Resus.
The yeti roared again – GRRRAAAWWLL! – then leapt over Sir Otto and
chewed an exit through the hedge before disappearing off down the street.
Silence descended on the garden.
“What was that?” squeaked Dixon, finally opening his eyes.
Sir Otto climbed to his feet. He was smiling. “That, Dixon,” he said, “was money!”
His nephew looked confused. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I’ve never seen my pocket money act like that…”
“Think about it,” said the landlord. “These little freaks won’t close the doorway while there’s a yeti loose in Scream Street – there’s no way the normals could escape its clutches.”
A scream rang out from the direction of the central square.
Zeal Chillchase steadied the half-closed Hex Hatch, then strode up to the landlord. “You’re going too far, Sneer,” he spat. “Those normals are innocent.”
Sir Otto pulled a large handkerchief from his pocket and used it to cover the ragged remains of his throat. “Those normals are paying customers,” he rumbled as more screams filled the air. “And I think I’m about to raise the price of admission!” With a final smirk, he turned and marched out of the garden, Dixon at his heels.
“What do we do now?” asked Cleo.
Chillchase turned back to the sliver of light in the air behind him – all that remained of the Hex Hatch – and began to expand it with his fingers. “I’ll have to keep this open until you can find a way to bring the yeti back here.”
“Any idea how we can do that?” asked Resus.
“Judging by the way she wolfed down Sir Otto’s scarf and that gnome, I’d say she was pretty hungry,” replied Luke. “Maybe we can find some food and lure her back this way?”
“It’s got to be worth a try,” said Cleo. “She must be looking for something to—”
She stopped as another furry creature jumped through the half-closed Hex Hatch and into the garden. Dull eyes peered anxiously through a mask of thick, grey hair.
“This one’s going nowhere!” growled Chillchase, grabbing a garden chair and raising it above his head.
“STOP!” yelled Luke.
Hunger of the Yeti Page 2
