Hunger of the Yeti

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Hunger of the Yeti Page 6

by Tommy Donbavand


  “We have to do something!” cried Cleo.

  Luke snatched the net from Resus and picked a large rock from the edge of the flower-bed. Wrapping it in the net, he swung it round twice to gain momentum, then smashed it into the side of the baby yeti’s head.

  The creature screeched in anger, and for a moment Luke thought it was about to turn on him – but instead it leapt off its prey and scurried away, crashing through the gate and disappearing into the night.

  Cleo dashed across the lawn and held the wand over the injured boy. The spell was fading fast, but before the light dimmed fully the trio saw the motionless body of Otto Sneer, blood gushing from the few strips of flesh that were all that remained of his throat.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Way Home

  Luke kicked open the doors to the emporium as he, Resus and Cleo carried the unconscious Otto Sneer inside and laid him on the floor. “We need help!”

  Cuffy looked up from his lightning-vision experiment and pulled off his goggles. “I thought you said it was a yeti you were trying to catch. Not my best – well, my only – customer!”

  “We almost had the yeti,” explained Cleo. “Otto just managed to get in the way somehow.”

  The wizard knelt beside the injured boy and pulled the stained fabric away from his throat, wincing at what he saw. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “Is there anything you can do?” asked Luke.

  “You,” instructed Cuffy, turning to Resus. “In the stockroom, third shelf down on the left – you’ll find some bottles of blood. Get one.” Resus ran to do as he asked.

  “Look!” Cleo hissed to Luke. She pointed out of the broken shop window to the deserted square. The yeti, now back to its normal size, staggered around for a moment in the weak moonlight, then slumped to the ground, unconscious. “It looks like you knocked it out after all.”

  “I didn’t hit it that hard,” replied Luke. “It must have eaten some of Otto’s drugged sweets.” He pulled the silver watch from his pocket. “Thirteen minutes left,” he said. “This is our last chance to take it home.”

  “You still want to take it back with us?” Cleo asked.

  “Yes,” said Luke, watching Cuffy as he cleaned blood from the ragged strips of young Otto’s throat. “It’s too dangerous to leave here – and we have to save our Scream Street from its mother.” Cleo nodded, and the pair left the wizard to his work and raced out into the square.

  “I’ve found the blood!” shouted Resus from the storeroom. “But it’s all animal stuff – badger, parrot, rat… There’s no human!”

  “There won’t be,” Cuffy called back. “I’m getting a blood tap fitted in a few months, but until then I’m not allowed to keep it.”

  “Then what do you want me to get?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I can cast a spell to stop Otto’s body from rejecting it.”

  Resus reappeared with a large flagon of dark red liquid.

  “What did you choose?” enquired the wizard.

  The vampire peered at the label in the dim light. “Warthog,” he replied. “It was the biggest one I could find.”

  As Cuffy prepared to replace Otto’s missing blood with that from the jar, Luke and Cleo re-entered the emporium, carrying the snoring baby yeti between them.

  “We finally got him, then?” said Resus.

  “Yep,” smiled Luke. “With eleven minutes to spare.”

  Suddenly, Otto’s eyes flickered open and darted around the room. “My friends,” he breathed, the air whistling through the flaps of skin at his throat.

  “We’re here,” Cleo reassured him, stepping forward and taking his hand. As she did so, Otto’s eyes fell on the yeti, and he began to scream and jerk about in terror.

  “Help!” cried Luke, leaning over to try to hold Otto’s shoulders down.

  Swiftly, Cuffy took a handful of what appeared to be glitter from his pocket and sprinkled it over Otto’s face. The injured boy closed his eyes and lay still.

  “What did you do?” asked Resus.

  “I wiped part of his memory,” Cuffy admitted. “The whole of the past twenty-four hours if I’ve got the dose right. He shouldn’t remember the yeti – or what it did to him.”

  “Nothing at all?” asked Cleo.

  “Not unless the memory is triggered,” replied Cuffy. “Which is highly unlikely; it’s a very powerful spell.”

  Luke looked at Chillchase’s watch again. “Nine minutes,” he warned.

  “We have to go,” Resus told Cuffy.

  The wizard continued administering the warthog blood to his patient. “I know,” he said. “I’ll make sure Otto is returned safely to his parents.”

  “Thank you,” Luke said gratefully as Cleo and Resus took the bloodstained piece of cloth and wrapped the snoozing baby yeti in it.

  Cuffy looked up at them, his eyes twinkling. “Say hello to the future for me…”

  Luke gasped. “You know?”

  The wizard grinned. “I always know…”

  “Skit skat skiddle-de-doo!” sang his beard.

  “Seven minutes,” said Luke. He, Resus and Cleo were crouched behind a low hedge, watching Alston Negative and Bella Nurmi sharing a tender moment in the moonlight – while sitting on Alston’s cloak.

  “Do they ever stop snogging?” groaned Resus.

  “Leave them alone,” said Cleo. “It’s romantic.”

  “It’s nasty,” retorted Resus, plunging his hands into his trouser pockets. They alighted upon Twonk’s yeti mask and gloves, and he gave a slow grin as an idea occurred to him. “And it could be a little scary, too…”

  Alston Negative gave a loud scream as what appeared to be a yeti charged across the lawn towards him and his date. The vampire jumped to his feet and, in his panic, pushed Bella into the creature’s path. As he made his escape into the night, Bella gave a squeal and disappeared after him.

  Resus pulled off the mask. “I thought my mum said he’d been brave,” he scoffed.

  Luke laughed as he and Cleo dragged the unconscious baby yeti across the lawn towards the abandoned vampire cloak. “Perhaps running away is considered brave in vampire lore?”

  Resus ignored the taunt and stuffed the fake yeti paws back into his pocket. “Still,” he said, picking up the vampire cape, “at least they won’t be doing any more kissing on this!”

  “Three minutes!” announced Luke as he, Resus, Cleo and Twonk left Everwell’s Emporium. The sky was still dark, but at least it was their dark. They were home.

  The journey back through the cape had been uneventful, and the trio had emerged to discover that Twonk had managed to tie a length of rope to the mother yeti’s ankle. As the creature was still under the effect of the levitation spell, it looked as though the zombie was sporting a Bigfoot-shaped kite.

  GRRRRAAAAWWWLLL! it roared as it bobbed through the air.

  “Shh,” soothed Cleo. “You’ll be home soon.”

  Bringing up the rear were Resus and Luke, dragging the yeti’s baby across the square, still unconscious and wrapped in its cocoon of white fabric. The vampire had clipped his cloak back around his shoulders but was eyeing it nervously as it swished around him.

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever completely trust this thing again,” said Resus.

  “It’s got us out of a lot of awkward situations,” Luke reminded him.

  “I know,” said Resus, “but it’s weird to think that my dad might be wearing it right now in the past!”

  “You three really know how to cut it fine,” declared the Tracker as Cleo swung open the gate to the garden where Zeal Chillchase was waiting.

  Luke pulled out the pocket watch for the last time. “Back with both yetis – and ninety seconds to spare,” he beamed.

  “What kept you?” asked Chillchase.

  “An old friend,” answered Cleo as Twonk tugged on the rope and pulled the mother yeti down towards the Hex Hatch. The group could just see the sun beginning to rise over the Tibetan mountainside through the shimmer
ing window.

  “We’ll be home in time for breakfast,” said Twonk.

  “I’m afraid not!” announced a voice, and Sir Otto Sneer stepped out of the shadows, Dixon cowering behind him. “That’s my main attraction you have there,” he snarled, sucking hard on his cigar. “It’s going nowhere.”

  “You made it!” shrieked Cleo with delight, and she flung her arms around the flabbergasted landlord.

  “What the blazes?” roared Sneer. “Dixon – get this freak off me!”

  The landlord’s nephew whispered in Cleo’s ear, “I think Sir Uncle Otto wants you to let go of him…”

  Cleo released her grip but continued to grin inanely at the bemused Sneer.

  Meanwhile, Luke handed the watch back to Zeal Chillchase. Then he turned to Sir Otto. “These yetis are going back to Tibet, where they belong,” he insisted.

  “Yetis?” demanded Sir Otto. “You mean there’s more than one?”

  The baby yeti suddenly gave a loud yawn and crawled out groggily from under the piece of white silk.

  “Aw, look,” smiled Twonk. “It’s slippery.”

  “I think you mean sleepy,” grinned Resus.

  “Oh yeah,” said the zombie, blushing. “Sleepy!”

  “No – it can’t be!”

  Everyone turned to see Sir Otto staggering backwards across the garden, eyes wide as he pointed a shaky finger at the baby yeti. “That’s… It’s not…” he gasped, his fingers reaching for the white silk scarf around his throat. Then he turned and ran from the garden, smoke billowing from his cigar.

  “Uncle Otto?” Dixon called after him. “Wait for me!”

  “I thought Cuffy had wiped his memory,” said Resus as the group watched the landlord make his hurried escape.

  “Yes, but he did say he might remember if anything was to trigger it,” Cleo reminded them. “I guess little biter here is just too difficult to forget!”

  “Twelve seconds…” announced Zeal Chillchase. “Eleven… Ten…”

  Twonk led the mother yeti through the Hex Hatch and Resus and Luke passed the baby through to him. The zombie turned back and held out a decomposing hand for the trio to shake. “Another adventure with my favourite fiends,” he beamed.

  Then the Hex Hatch finally closed, sealing the zombie on the other side of the world with his precious yetis.

  Zeal Chillchase slumped to the ground, exhausted, and checked the pocket watch. “Three seconds to spare,” he said.

  “Sounds like three could be our lucky number,” Luke grinned.

  “Yep,” agreed Cleo. “And everything’s back exactly where – and when – it should be.”

  “No it’s not,” said Resus, suddenly remembering something. “Twonk forgot his disguise!” He pulled the yeti mask and gloves from his trouser pocket, but as he did so one of the claws caught in his trousers, ripping them and revealing a flash of pink boxer shorts beneath.

  Luke and Cleo erupted in laughter as a red-faced Resus struggled to cover them up. Even Zeal Chillchase cracked a sly smile.

  Luke put his arm around Resus’s shoulders and grinned. “We need to talk…” he said.

  Other Scream Street titles

  1: Fang of the Vampire

  2: Blood of the Witch

  3: Heart of the Mummy

  4: Flesh of the Zombie

  5: Skull of the Skeleton

  6: Claw of the Werewolf

  7: Invasion of the Normals

  8: Attack of the Trolls

  9: Terror of the Nightwatchman

  10: Rampage of the Goblins

  Coming soon!

  12: Secret of the Changeling

  Tommy Donbavand was born and brought up in Liverpool and has worked at numerous careers, including actor, theatre producer, children’s entertainer, clown (called Wobblebottom), drama teacher and writer. His non-fiction books for children and their parents, such as Boredom Busters and Quick Fixes for Bored Kids, helped him to become a regular guest on radio stations around the UK and he also writes for a number of magazines, including Creative Steps and Scholastic’s Junior Education.

  Tommy says the idea for comedy-horror series Scream Street came from wondering what it would be like to live in a haunted house – and to have another haunted house next door. Before long he had invented a whole street of horrific homes and populated this nightmarish neighbourhood with every kind of scary creature he could imagine.

  When he’s not writing, Tommy likes to make balloon animals and play the harmonica – and he dreams of the day when he’ll be able to do both at the same time.

  www.tommydonbavand.com

  www.screamstreet.co.uk

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are

  either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

  First published 2011 by Walker Books Ltd

  87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ

  Text © 2011 Tommy Donbavand

  Illustrations © 2011 Cartoon Saloon Ltd

  The right of Tommy Donbavand to be identified

  as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance

  with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted

  or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means,

  graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and

  recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data:

  a catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978-1-4063-3540-8 (ePub)

  ISBN 978-1-4063-3541-5 (e-PDF)

  www.walker.co.uk

 

 

 


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