‘What are you planning?’ her mum said, seeing the mischievous look on Amy’s face.
‘Nothing!’ Amy said innocently. That, of course, was a lie. But it wasn’t a big whopper of a lie: it was a little fib, so, in Amy’s eyes, it didn’t really count. She was nearly grown up. Everyone said so. That meant her mum didn’t need to know everything she got up to! She raced out of the coop and disposed of the yucky straw.
‘Hey, guys! I’ve got the coolest idea for a game!’ she hissed. She didn’t want any of the other farm animals to hear.
The posse of young chickens gathered eagerly around Amy. She whispered her idea to her friends.
‘You mean we have to eat something revolting?’ one of them said.
‘Yes,’ said Amy. ‘Or drink lots of water. Or eat lots of grit. Then we can make our eggs into bombs and drop them on the geese.’
Her friends giggled. It was a really good idea! The geese were always causing problems and had a nasty habit of bullying the chickens. In the old days Amy had sometimes got into trouble with her parents for wrestling with the geese and trying to teach them a lesson. But her idea about the egg bombs was way better. All her friends agreed.
‘I’ll make a brick bomb.’ One of them started gobbling grit.
‘I’ll do a blobby egg.’ Another one dunked its head in the water trough.
‘I like Amy’s idea about the nettles,’ a third strutted over to the nettle patch and began to graze on the green leaves.
‘What kind of egg bomb are you going to make, Amy?’ asked another hen.
Amy tried to think of something really disgusting to flavour her egg bomb with. A cowpat would be good of course, or some horse manure, but she didn’t think she could actually eat poo, however satisfying the end result. ‘Flies,’ she said eventually. ‘If I swallow them whole, maybe they’ll come out buzzing.’
‘Cool,’ said her friend. ‘I’ll try ants.’
Amy ran around the farmyard with her mouth open, swallowing as many flies as she could. She hadn’t had this much fun in ages. She was so happy to be home. Her friends hadn’t forgotten her after all! Her dad had been right. Now that they knew Amy still wanted to play games and be friends, they did too. And this was the best game ever! She couldn’t wait to see the look on those gooses’ faces when the chickens started pelting them with egg bombs.
Just then the shadow of a bird passed overhead. Amy glanced up, fearing that it might be the albatross, come to take her back to Chicken HQ.
It wasn’t the albatross. It was a large mallard duck. And it was wearing a bow tie.
‘Bother-eggtion, no way!’ Amy couldn’t believe her bad luck.
The duck landed awkwardly in the farmyard. He dusted his feathers down and waddled towards Amy. ‘The name’s Pond,’ he said, ‘James Pond, duck secret agent.’
‘I know!’ Amy squawked. ‘I’ve met you loads of times before.’ James Pond was an awful know-it-all show-off. He never missed an opportunity to boast. He also seemed to think he could boss her and Boo and Ruth around whenever he felt like showing up, uninvited, like now. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’ she asked.
‘Professor Rooster sent me,’ James Pond said smugly.
Amy’s jaw dropped. Professor Rooster? He knew she was here? But then of course he knew everything, just like Boo said. She should have realised he would find out she’d gone home. And now he was cross with her. That’s why he’d sent James Pond.
‘The professor suspects Cleopatra didn’t go to India,’ James Pond announced. ‘He thinks she boarded the boat then swam back to shore when no one was looking. He’s convinced she’s still in Cluckbridge.’
Amy listened to James Pond with a sinking heart. She didn’t know snakes could swim. And she had been so excited about going on holiday, she hadn’t thought to question if the reports of Cleopatra’s departure were true. She had just dashed off, leaving Boo and Ruth and Aunt Mildred. She had a horrible feeling she’d let them down.
‘Professor Rooster has asked me to take charge of the mission because you guys suck,’ James Pond concluded. ‘Go and get your stuff. It’s time to go to work.’
Amy didn’t have the heart to argue any more. The street party was today. She just hoped they wouldn’t be too late to warn Aunt Mildred. She scuttled off to bid her parents a hasty farewell.
‘Something’s come up,’ she said as she threw everything into her suitcase and strapped on her flight-booster engine.
‘Is it serious?’ her mother asked anxiously.
‘No,’ Amy fibbed again. She felt terrible lying about something as important as this but she didn’t want to worry her mum. The chicks were due any day. The news about Cleopatra could wait. She gave her mum and dad a hug. ‘Just a training exercise – don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
Aunt Mildred’s coop was empty. Amy could see that the moment she flew over the garden. The coop had a forlorn air about it. There was no sign of the excited hustle and bustle of when she had left.
Amy landed inside the chicken wire after James Pond. She removed her super-spec headset and looked about for clues as to what might have happened. Boo’s gymnastics equipment had been set up under the apple tree and then abandoned. A few discarded party hats and crackers lay on the ground. It looked as if the party had gone ahead as planned.
But then what? Had Cleopatra come?
Amy hopped up the steps to the coop. Inside everything was just as it had been when she had left. Except that there were no chickens – all of them, including Boo and Ruth, had simply vanished.
Amy felt numb with shock. This was all her fault. It was she who had suggested they take a holiday. They should have stayed on guard, just in case. She could see that now. No wonder Professor Rooster was cross.
‘I’ll go and check the other gardens,’ James Pond poked his head round the coop door.
‘Okay,’ Amy replied dully. She watched him limber up, preparing to take off again. Then she turned her attention back to the coop. There must be a clue somewhere. She wished Boo and Ruth were here to help her. She was rubbish at being a chicken detective without the help of her two best friends.
A piece of paper lay face down on the floor. She picked it up and turned it over. Amy frowned. That was strange! It was an invitation to a party. Only it wasn’t the street party Aunt Mildred had been organising. It was a different party altogether.
Fiona’s Fast-Food Restaurant? Was that where Aunt Mildred’s friends had gone? Amy felt a sense of relief. Maybe their disappearance wasn’t down to Cleopatra after all! If she and James Pond were quick they could warn them that the queen cobra was still in town.
She was about to go in search of James Pond when she heard a faint knocking beneath her feet. It was coming from the library. Quickly, her heart hammering in her chest, Amy brushed aside the straw and pulled up the hatch.
Two familiar eyes blinked at her from behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles.
‘Ruth!’ she cried.
Ruth clambered out from between the rows of books and took a long drink of water from the bowl. ‘Phew,’ she said, ‘thank goodness you’re here, Amy. I’ve been stuck down there for ages. I thought I was going to die of thirst. There’s no way out from the inside.’
‘What were you doing down there anyway?’ asked Amy.
‘Hiding.’
‘Who from?’
‘The rats.’
‘The rats?’ Amy stared at her blankly. ‘I don’t understand. Where’s Boo? And Aunt Mildred?’
‘The rats took them. They took everyone except me.’
Amy waved the invitation at her friend. ‘But it says here …’
Ruth let out a big sigh. ‘I know, I know. It says there that the rats are friendly. Well, don’t believe a word of it, Amy – they’re not. We were ambushed by them. The invitation was a trick. I’d better tell you what happened.’
The two chickens sat down. Amy listened patiently.
‘After you left we got everything ready fo
r the street party,’ Ruth began. ‘I must admit I was a bit nervous about escorting Aunt Mildred’s friends here, just in case any foxes showed up …’
‘How many chickens were there?’ asked Amy.
‘About fifty altogether,’ Ruth said. ‘But I had the mite blaster and the peppershakers, and Boo offered to help, so we made a start.’
‘Is that when you were ambushed?’ asked Amy.
Ruth shook her head. ‘No. The rats were cleverer than that.’
‘Go on,’ said Amy.
‘We’d got about half the chickens to Aunt Mildred’s when we first saw them,’ Boo said. ‘They were in small groups, delivering flyers to the chicken coops.’
‘You mean these?’ Amy held up the invitation.
Ruth nodded. ‘Yes. Well, when they saw what Boo and me were doing, they offered to help. They said when the street party was over they’d take us to Fiona’s Fast-Food Restaurant for a worm burger. They said it was a really cool place and that they were sick of the foxes eating all their food. They said they wanted to make friends with us chickens which was why they volunteered to guide us through the sewers so that the foxes didn’t get us.’
‘Go on,’ Amy said.
‘It seemed fine at first,’ Ruth said. ‘We got everyone to Aunt Mildred’s and had some food and played party games. The rats joined in. Then it was time for Boo’s gymnastics display. By then the rats were getting a bit restless. They kept asking when we’d be finished. They said they wanted to go to Fiona’s before it got dark. That’s when I started to get a bit suspicious. I mean, why would rats help chickens after all? Why not just go to Fiona’s and take the food for themselves? We all know what they’re like for stealing. So, anyway, I had the idea it might be a trick, that the rats might be working for someone else.’
‘Cleopatra?’ Amy suggested.
Ruth looked surprised. ‘No. Why do you say that?’
‘Professor Rooster thinks Cleopatra’s still in Cluckbridge,’ Amy said. ‘That’s why he sent James Pond to fetch me back from Perrin’s Farm. That’s why I’m here.’
Ruth scratched her head. ‘Oh dear, this might be even worse than I thought.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Amy.
Ruth pointed to the invitation. ‘Did you notice anything familiar about it?’
‘Not really,’ Amy said.
‘Well I did,’ said Ruth. ‘I thought I’d seen that handwriting before. So while Boo was finishing off the gymnastics display, I took the invitation inside the coop to have a good look at it with the magnifying glass.’
Amy nodded wisely. She wished she’d thought of the magnifying glass. It was something Professor Rooster sometimes put in the Emergency Chicken Pack for looking at clues. She didn’t think she’d ever be a super brainy detective like Ruth.
‘Once I looked at it close up, I could see that it was written by an old enemy of ours …’
‘Who?’ asked Amy. She still didn’t get it.
‘Someone who makes it his job to trick unsuspecting chickens … someone who likes inviting chickens to dinners and putting them on the menu so that he and his cronies can eat them without the bother of having to catch them first …’
Suddenly Amy realised what Ruth was talking about: Thaddeus E. Fox! The invitation was his trademark. He was always inviting chickens to things and then trying to eat them. ‘Thaddeus! You mean he’s here? In Cluckbridge?’
‘Looks like it,’ Ruth said grimly. ‘And now you’ve told me your news about Cleopatra, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s teamed up with her.’
Cleopatra AND Thaddeus E. Fox?! Amy gave a little shudder. Dealing with one evil villain was bad enough, but dealing with two was impossible. ‘What happened then?’ she asked.
‘I was just about to tell Boo about the invitation when I heard a commotion outside,’ Ruth said. ‘The rats were rounding everyone up. They broke all Boo’s gymnastic equipment and grabbed what was left of the food. Then they gnawed a hole in the chicken wire and started marching everyone out of the back gate towards the sewer. A group of them came to the coop to check round for any stragglers. That was when I hid in the library. I thought maybe I could tip off the professor and get word to you. It was only when I tried to lift the trap door that I realised I was, well, trapped.’
‘We’ve got to get down to the river before it’s too late,’ Amy said.
Ruth grabbed the Emergency Chicken Pack. ‘Should we go through the sewers?’
Amy shook her head. ‘The rats might be down there. We’ll use the flight-booster engines. Let’s get Pond. We can fill him in on the way.’
At the warehouse, egg production was already in full swing.
‘What a stroke of luck to find so many chickens in one place!’ Snooty Bush rejoiced.
‘Indeed, Snooty!’ Thaddeus E. Fox agreed. ‘I couldn’t have planned it better myself!’ The pair of foxes walked up and down the rows of shelving units, grinning from ear to ear. The battery farm had got off to a flying start.
The crates in rows A and B were already bulging with the chickens from the raid at Aunt Mildred’s. Meanwhile the crates in rows C, D, E and F were rapidly filling up with chickens from other parts of the city who had seen Thaddeus’s flyer for Fiona’s Fast-Food Restaurant and flocked to their local sewer, only to find themselves ambushed by rats and frog-marched to captivity.
Business was brisk. A queue of foxes was waiting at the checkouts. A second queue of foxes had formed at Virginia’s burger grill to get their eggs fried. Thaddeus and Snooty were on their way to making a killing.
The two devious foxes rounded the corner to rows I and J. A few broody hens sat on clutches of eggs. They looked dazed and miserable. ‘How long until they hatch?’ Snooty Bush asked the rat foreman in charge.
‘A few days,’ said the rat.
‘Have you laced the feed with GRO-BIG?’ Thaddeus barked.
‘Yes, sir,’ the rat said.
‘Good. As soon as the chicks hatch, stuff them full of it to get them ready for laying,’ Thaddeus ordered, ‘or for eating if they’re roosters. We don’t need any more of them.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Are all the hens laying by the way?’ Snooty Bush asked.
‘All except one, sir. We’ve already moved her to Row G.’ The rat gave the foxes a knowing look.
‘Is she old and scrawny?’ Thaddeus asked.
‘No, sir. She’s plump and juicy, but she can’t lay an egg to save her life.’
‘How curious,’ Thaddeus said. ‘Let’s have a look at her.’
‘Right you are, sir.’ The rat led the way around the corner to death row.
A plump chicken with beautiful honey-coloured feathers sat forlornly on a thin bed of straw in an otherwise empty cage. A bowl of feed beside her remained untouched.
‘Well, well, well …’ Thaddeus’s face split into a delighted grin. ‘Will you look at what the rats brought in?’
‘What is it, Thaddeus?’ Snooty Bush asked him. ‘Do you know that chicken?’
‘That, my dear Snooty, is one of Professor Rooster’s elite chicken squad.’ He addressed the chicken. ‘Where are your two friends?’
Boo cowered in the corner of the cage. ‘They’re not here,’ she said.
‘I can see that,’ Thaddeus snarled. ‘Where are they?’
‘On holiday,’ Boo said.
‘Where?’
Boo said nothing.
‘Tell me where,’ Thaddeus growled, ‘or I’ll feed you alive to Cleopatra. Ah,’ he said, seeing the look of terror in Boo’s eyes, ‘I can see you’ve already heard of our new business partner. Well? Where are the other two?’
‘Promise you’ll let me go back to the other cage if I tell you?’ Boo whispered.
Thaddeus drew himself up and gave Boo a little bow. ‘You have my word as an old Eat’emian.’
‘I don’t know where Ruth is,’ Boo said. ‘She was at the party but she disappeared.’
Snooty Bush gestured to the lines of chickens.
‘She may be with the others.’
Thaddeus narrowed his eyes. ‘I’ll find her if she is. What about the little fat one? The one with the wrestling moves?’ he demanded.
Boo looked at him stubbornly.
‘Spit it out,’ Thaddeus said, ‘or I’ll take you to Cleopatra.’
‘Amy went to Perrin’s Farm to stay with her parents. She doesn’t know anything about this. Just leave her alone.’ Boo hid her face in her wings and started to sob.
Thaddeus regarded her with contempt. ‘Where’s Perrin’s Farm?’ he asked, turning to Snooty Bush.
‘I’m not sure. Somewhere near Cluckbridge, I think,’ Snooty Bush replied.
‘We’ll check the map,’ Thaddeus E. Fox leered at Boo. The rat was right – she was very plump and juicy-looking but he had already decided he wasn’t going to eat her. He was going to watch Cleopatra do it. Being ingested by the queen cobra would take far longer and be much more painful than a quick snap of his jaws. It was the perfect revenge for all the humiliation he had suffered at the wings of Professor Rooster and his elite chicken squad.
‘Are you going to take me back to the other cage now?’ Boo asked.
‘No,’ Thaddeus said unpleasantly. ‘You’re staying here until Cleopatra sends for you.’
Boo gasped. ‘But you promised!’ she said.
Thaddeus grinned. ‘Let me give you a word of advice. Never trust an old Eatemian! We’re all vagabonds and crooks! I thought you’d have realised that by now.’
Boo threw herself onto the straw in despair.
‘Enjoy your last meal,’ Thaddeus chuckled.
‘Thaddeus!’ Virginia Fox Diamond came loping towards them. ‘There you are.’ Thaddeus straightened his waistcoat. ‘What can I do for you, Virginia?’ he asked in his most charming voice.
‘We need more eggs,’ said the vixen. ‘We’re not keeping up with demand.’
‘But we’ve only just started production,’ Snooty Bush protested.
Virginia Fox Diamond ignored him. ‘There aren’t enough eggs. And there’s no chicken. My customers don’t want to wait. We need to feed them before they get tired of the queues and start going elsewhere.’ She prowled about in frustration.
Chicken Mission: Chaos in Cluckbridge Page 5
