Alfie the Werewolf 4: Wolf Wood

by Paul van Loon

  Leo bent down, picked up the mobile and stared at it for a while. A tear left a wet trail down his snout.

  ‘Oh, how pitter-patter-ful,’ he blubbered. ‘The ringaruppa is busted like a dead birdy-beast. It’s all brokened to smitheree. The ringaruppa had to go to the gravy-yard, like Grandpa Werewolf.’ Gently he stroked the shattered telephone.

  ‘Wrow. What did you say, Leo? Where’s Grandpa Werewolf?’

  Leo stared at Alfie for a long time.

  ‘Oh, has Leo forgot to tell cuz wolf? He be terriballistically sorry. Leo be a lazy loafhead.’

  Alfie’s heart beat fearfully. ‘What do you mean, Leo? Spit it out.’

  Leo looked at Alfie sadly. ‘Grandpa Werewolf falled out of the tree. Now he be resting in the gravy-yard.’

  16

  The Graveyard

  Astonished, Alfie stared at Leo. ‘What? What are you saying? Grandpa in the graveyard? He can’t be.’ Tears leapt to his eyes.

  Leo nodded and sniffed with an enormous honking sound. ‘It be very horriballizing. The tree falled, smash-bang. The treehouse falled, smash-bang. And Grandpa falled too, smash-bang, snap!’

  Alfie turned to Tim with a dazed expression. He couldn’t believe it. Tim too had turned horribly pale in the moonlight. Alfie cleared his throat. He felt numb. His voice was quivering.

  ‘Where is this graveyard, Leo? I want to go there. I want to see Grandpa’s resting place with my own two eyes.’

  Leo nodded. ‘Follows me. We’s going there like greasy lightning.’ He grabbed Tim and lifted him up.

  ‘Hey!’ shouted Tim. The next thing he knew he was sitting on Leo’s shoulders with his legs wrapped round his neck.

  ‘Now us can run lots sprintier.’ Leo nodded to Alfie. ‘Go.’

  Together they tore off. Tim grabbed Leo’s ears with fright as they stormed through the wood at werewolf speed.

  ‘Hold tight, Timmio. We’s going like a bolt out of hell.’

  ‘Wait,’ Tim shouted. ‘Alfie, we forgot your shoes. They’re still in the boot of that car.’

  Alfie didn’t stop. ‘Wrow, leave ‘em. We’re in a hurry.’

  They ran along narrow paths, down slopes and up rises, leaping over bushes and fallen logs. Leo led the way with giant steps that sent Tim bouncing up and down on his shoulders as if he was riding a mad camel. He didn’t dare to let go even for a second.

  Alfie ran close behind Leo. He had no time to pay attention to where they were going. He still couldn’t believe what Leo had said. Grandpa Werewolf in the graveyard. And the cutters and choppers were to blame. They’d cut down Grandpa’s tree, and now Grandpa was … Even the thought was too much to bear. Inside Alfie something started growing. It was as if a black balloon was being inflated inside his chest. A balloon full of dark, grim thoughts.

  I’ll get them, he thought. I’ll bite them with my werewolf teeth. I’ll rip them with my werewolf claws. The black balloon grew bigger and bigger. Revenge. Blood.

  Alfie was shocked. He hadn’t known that there was a furious, vengeful werewolf hidden inside him. He didn’t even notice that he had started growling louder and louder. Blinded by rage, he raced along behind Leo. Suddenly Leo stopped.

  ‘Here. This be it.’ He lifted Tim up off his shoulders and put him down on the ground.

  ‘Where are we?’ Tim asked.

  Leo pointed. ‘Look, this be the werewolf gravy-yard.’

  Hidden behind a curtain of leaves and branches, they saw headstones and crosses stuck in the ground. It was an enormous cemetery.

  ‘A werewolf graveyard?’ Tim said. ‘Did you know that, Alfie?’

  ‘Wrow.’

  Behind Alfie’s glasses, his eyes shone a dangerous red. His claws looked sharper and his teeth looked longer. Even his white coat looked wilder and shaggier.

  Tim looked at him anxiously. ‘Are you feeling all right, Alfie? You look funny. A bit scary. There’s a red gleam in your eyes. I’ve never seen that before.’

  Alfie shook his head and growled again. ‘Wrow.’ That was all he could say.

  Leo pushed a branch aside. ‘Come with Leo.’

  They walked between the headstones. The full moon shone down on angular crypts. The trees were gnarled and bent, and their branches were like grasping claws. There were tangled weeds everywhere and white flowers growing between the graves. Suddenly Leo stopped and pointed at a tall, arched headstone.

  ‘Look, that be Grandpa Werewolf’s resting place.’

  Alfie looked at the headstone. A raw sob rose up in his throat. Tears filled his eyes. He went down on all fours and sent a heart-rending howl up to the moon. He beat the ground with helpless rage.

  Tim sat down next to him. He too was unable to hold back his tears. ‘So Grandpa Werewolf will rest in peace here under the ground for ever?’

  Leo’s eyes bulged to twice their size. ‘Under the grounds? Are youse cheese crackers, Timmio? Of course, Grandpa not resting under the grounds. Then he’d choke to death on mud and clodhoppers.’

  From behind the grave they heard a soft groan.

  17

  Broken

  Tim and Alfie looked at each other, then, in the same instant, they both ran around to the other side of the headstone. Again they heard a soft groan. Someone was moving in the shadow of the stone.

  He was wrapped up in a long coat and hidden under a hat. Next to him lay a walking stick. Now he looked up in surprise. Deep-yellow eyes gleamed under the hat. The moon shone down on his black wolf’s muzzle.

  ‘Grandpa Werewolf,’ growled Alfie, ‘you’re alive. You’re not dead.’

  ‘Grrr, no, I definitely hope not, Alfie.’

  Alfie’s heart leapt. ‘But I thought, I was afraid that … Leo, you dolt.’

  The black balloon inside Alfie deflated. All of his dark werewolf thoughts drained away. He had never felt so relieved in all his life.

  Leo grinned with pride and patted himself on the chest. ‘Leo sayed so, didn’t he? Grandpa Werewolf be resting in the gravy-yard. That sayed Leo. Here he be.’

  ‘Alfie, Tim, I’m glad to see you.’ The old werewolf held out a trembling paw. He seemed about to stand up, but instead whimpered softly and slumped back down again.

  ‘Grandpa.’

  ‘His leg,’ Tim whispered.

  Now Alfie noticed it too. Grandpa’s right leg looked funny. It was lying at a strange angle and didn’t look straight any more. Alfie squatted down next to his grandfather.

  ‘Grandpa, what’s the matter with your leg?’

  ‘Poor leg brokened,’ said Leo.

  Grandpa Werewolf groaned again. ‘Accident, Alfie. Broken leg.’ He was obviously finding it hard to talk.

  ‘Wrow. Broken? How?’

  Grandpa ran his paw lightly over his leg. ‘They cut down my tree, Alfie. My wolf nest is all smashed.’

  ‘I saw that, Grandpa. Terrible.’

  Grandpa Werewolf nodded. ‘I was inside.’

  ‘In the treehouse, Grandpa? When they cut it down?’

  Grandpa Werewolf nodded again. ‘Roaring. Cracking. I tried to phone you. Too late. The tree fell. Treehouse smashed. My beautiful wolf nest all gone. I slammed into the ground. My leg snapped. I was dizzy. Head spinning.’

  ‘The villains,’ Alfie growled. ‘Didn’t they see you?’

  Grandpa Werewolf shook his head. ‘I was under the tree. That was my salvation. They didn’t see me and left. I’d broken my leg. I couldn’t stand up. I was half unconscious from the pain.’

  Alfie gulped. ‘That’s terrible, Grandpa. But I’m glad you’re still alive. How did you get away?’

  A brief smile flashed over Grandpa’s face. ‘I was lucky after all. Leo comes to visit almost every day. He found me.’

  ‘Wrow, you have to see a doctor, Grandpa.’

  ‘Or a vet,’ Tim added.

  Grandpa Werewolf shook his head. ‘Not now, Alfie. There is great danger in the wood.’ Then his head slumped. It was all too much effort.

  Alfie looked at Leo.
‘You saved Grandpa, Leo. So you’re not a dolt after all.’

  ‘No?’ said Leo with surprise. ‘What be Leo then?’

  ‘You’re a hero, Leo. What did you do when you found Grandpa?’

  ‘Leo tuggles Grandpa out from under the tree. He asks Grandpa where he wants to be going. “The werewolf gravy-yard,” says Grandpa. Nobody nose about this gravy-yard. It be a super-secretive secret.’

  ‘Wow,’ Tim said. ‘A cemetery where only werewolves are buried. And hundreds of them, by the looks of things.’ He studied a headstone. ‘Rudolf Hornleaf, 1734-1826. And look at that one.’ Tim pointed to another headstone. ‘Albert Sevenclaw, 1255-1397. These graves are hundreds of years old.’

  Alfie growled respectfully. ‘Wrow, hundreds of werewolves. Graves that have been here for centuries. Maybe this is the secret Grandpa wanted to tell me. Do you think so?’

  ‘But the graveyard’s in danger too now,’ exclaimed Tim. ‘The choppers and chippers want to flatten the whole wood. They’ll be sure to discover the werewolf graveyard while they’re at it.’

  Leo nodded. ‘That be Grandpa Werewolf’s worst daymare. The chippies and chappies won’t just flattify the forest. They’ll squashen the gravy-yard too.’

  They all listened to the noises in the distance. Chopping and sawing. Growling and roaring. Leo held a paw up to one ear.

  ‘Oh, heavies. The squishers are coming.’

  All at once Grandpa Werewolf opened his eyes.

  ‘Alfie,’ he wheezed.

  ‘Wrow, what is it, Grandpa?’

  Grandpa Werewolf struggled to raise his head to Alfie’s ear. His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. ‘Alfie, you have to save the werewolf graveyard. They mustn’t discover it and destroy it. Our forefathers are buried here.’

  His eyes closed again and his head fell back against the headstone.

  18

  Decoy

  Alfie jumped up. ‘We have to lead them away. They mustn’t come near the werewolf graveyard.’ He looked at Grandpa Werewolf, who was leaning against the headstone with closed eyes and groaning every now and then. ‘Tim, will you stay with Grandpa Werewolf? Then Leo and I will go see where those choppers are. Maybe we can act as a decoy and lead them away.’

  Tim nodded. ‘Go quickly. You’re a lot faster than I am. I’ll look after Grandpa, but be careful. Those men are dangerous.’

  ‘I’ll see you soon, Grandpa,’ Alfie said. ‘Don’t worry. We won’t let those snarling savages destroy the werewolf graveyard.’ Alfie sounded a lot braver than he felt. ‘Come on, Leo, let’s go.’

  They crept off through the thick undergrowth and soon discovered a trail of chopped-down trees. The woodcutters couldn’t be far away. The noise they were making was getting louder and louder. Cautiously, Leo and Alfie crept closer.

  Suddenly Alfie froze. ‘Leo, look. Who’s that?’ He pushed a couple of branches aside to get a clearer view.

  Someone was sneaking down the path between the trees, walking bent over and looking around nervously. He was holding something with a long handle and wearing a helmet that gleamed in the moonlight.

  ‘Wrow, that must be one of the woodcutters. It looks like he’s got an axe.’

  Leo nodded. ‘No problemo, cuz wolf. Leo catches him red handy.’

  ‘Leo, wait.’

  But Leo was no longer listening. One great leap brought him up to the creeping figure. Leo grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and jerked him upright.

  ‘Gotya, chop-chap. Leo’s got you, you sneaky snake.’

  They heard a smothered cry.

  19

  Uh-oh

  ‘Help. Let go.’ The man wriggled and thrashed so hard his helmet slipped down over his eyes. Leo held him tight with two claws.

  ‘Hey, takes it easy, creepy sneaker.’ He gave his captive a good shaking. ‘Relaxify. Unless you want Leo furious. Then he starts growlering and maybe even bitesing. So drop that axe like pronto.’

  It was quiet for a moment.

  ‘Axe? I haven’t got an axe. This is my butterfly net.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, pull Leo’s other leggy.’

  Suddenly the prisoner stopped struggling.

  ‘Leo? Is that you, Leo?’

  Alfie looked up. He knew that voice.

  ‘You be knowing me, creeper?’ Leo blurted. ‘Leo be so famous?’

  The moon suddenly shone on the bright-yellow helmet, lighting up a flame-red M3. The axe was a long-handled butterfly net.

  ‘Dad,’ cried Alfie.

  ‘Alfie, son.’

  ‘Uh-oh, Leo makes the whopsiest mistake. It’s Dadsy. Leo be a bottom-notch dingdong.’ Carefully he put Dad down.

  Alfie ran up to him. Dad threw away the butterfly net, slid the helmet up and spread his arms wide.

  ‘Alfie, son, what’s going on?’

  ‘Wrow, Dad.’

  They hugged each other and Alfie quickly explained what had happened.

  ‘So Tim is looking after Grandpa Werewolf?’ Dad asked. ‘Goodness, that’s really something. A werewolf graveyard, lumber thieves and an injured Grandpa Werewolf. We have to hurry back to that graveyard to see if we can help Grandpa.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘Wrow. But what are you doing here, Dad?’

  ‘I’ve been tracking the Scoffle for hours. And its tracks led me to Wolf Wood.’

  ‘So the Scoffle is here somewhere?’ asked Alfie.

  Dad nodded. ‘It makes sense. An animal like that would much rather be in a nice forest than a town full of smelly cars.’ For a moment Dad stared up at the stars with a dreamy expression on his face. ‘I’d like to live in a nice forest too. Living under the moon like a wild animal. That’d be really different.’

  Suddenly Alfie stared at his father. ‘Dad, what time is it?’

  Dad looked at his watch. ‘Um, almost half eight.’

  ‘Wrow. Help! I forgot all about it.’

  ‘Forgot about what?’

  Alfie scratched his head. ‘Mr French and WROW, the protest group. They’re coming to Wolf Wood tonight to demonstrate. They’ll be here any minute. Maybe they’re here already.’ Alfie sighed. ‘And what’s Noura going to do? It’s full moon.’

  Dad patted him on the head. ‘Don’t worry, son. A smart girl like her will come up with something.’

  Leo suddenly held up a paw. ‘Listen. Leo be hearing things.’

  The piercing screech of an electric saw cut through the silence, followed by the creak and smash of a falling tree.

  ‘Quick, hide,’ Dad whispered. They ducked behind a bush as the wood groaned and cracked and lights flashed between the tree trunks.

  ‘Good Lord,’ Dad said, ‘they’re going berserk. What kind of people are they?’

  Trees toppled over. Bushes were ripped out of the ground. Branches flew through the air. The Chopper, the Chipper and the Cutter appeared.

  Dad was so shocked he whistled.

  ‘Oh my gobbler,’ Leo growled.

  Alfie’s mouth fell open.

  20

  Rustling

  Tim looked anxiously at Grandpa, who was still slumped motionless against the headstone. His hat had slipped down over his eyes. With the moon shining on the headstones, the graveyard was pale and ghostly and full of shadows. It had been a while since Alfie and Leo had left and Tim was starting to feel very uneasy. What if they’d been captured by the bony boss and his henchmen? Or taken a wrong turning in the wood and got lost?

  No, thought Tim, that was impossible. Leo knew every inch of Werewolf Wood. And Alfie had turned into a wolf too. But why were they taking so long to come back? He kept looking around and every suspicious noise made him jump.

  Was that tiny eyes gleaming over there? No, it was nothing at all.

  He thought he heard voices whispering.

  ‘Rubbish, Tim. Stop exaggerating things. It was just the wind,’ Tim said to himself. It was just the leaves moving slightly, that’s all.

  Suddenly Grandpa Werewolf groaned.

  ‘Grandpa Wer
ewolf,’ Tim whispered, ‘are you awake?’ Carefully he slid Grandpa’s hat back up. Slowly one deep yellow eye opened to stare piercingly at Tim.

  Tim felt an involuntary shudder. Grandpa Werewolf was very nice, but Tim had never been alone with an adult werewolf before and that black wolf’s head looked very scary in the pale moonlight. Grandpa made another noise.

  ‘Grrhmmmrrrrtim …’

  ‘Yes, Grandpa?’ Tim’s voice was a bit jittery.

  ‘Where is Alfie?’

  ‘D-d-don’t worry, Grandpa. A-alfie’s luring the w-woodcutters a-w-way from the graveyard. Together with Leo.’

  ‘What?’ Grandpa Werewolf sat up and grabbed Tim’s wrist. ‘What did you say?’ Grandpa’s voice was hoarse. He’d opened his other eye now as well.

  Tim was frightened and flinched back, but his wrist was clamped tight in Grandpa’s paw. Two yellow werewolf eyes stared at him. ‘There’s nothing for you to be afraid of, Tim. It’s Alfie we have to worry about. He mustn’t go near those cutters, they’re very dangerous.’

  ‘He’s with Leo, Grandpa. Those people can’t do anything to two werewolves together, can they?’

  Grandpa Werewolf now grabbed Tim by the shoulders. Tim felt claws pressing against his skin. ‘They’re not just people, Tim. They’re monsters.’

  ‘Monsters?’

  Grandpa Werewolf didn’t say another word. His eyes closed, his head slumped to the side.

  Now Tim was more worried than ever. Monsters? What did Grandpa Werewolf mean? He looked around anxiously. It really is time Alfie came back, he thought.

  Once again he thought he heard voices around him. Rustling, murmuring voices.

  Suddenly the bushes behind him shook. Tim jumped up with fright. Between the leaves, something growled.

  21

  Monsters

  Alfie gulped. They’d got it wrong. The Chopper, the Chipper and the Cutter weren’t people, they were machines with people inside them. An enormous chopping machine with a shining axe. An enormous chipping machine with a screeching circular saw. And an enormous cutting machine with massive blades. Three growling, roaring, rattling steel monsters on gigantic tracks with headlights like evil shining eyes. The machines thundered along the bumpy forest road like three rampaging dinosaurs.