Chapter Fourteen
The Children
The applause from the residents was loud and long. Luke looked to see which of his neighbours was supporting this madman. The Crudleys, always eager to please those in authority, were slapping their muddy palms together enthusiastically, spraying those around them with clumps of muck and tendrils of thick, brown weed. Aside from them, two ogres, a gargoyle and a family of imps appeared to approve of Belcher’s plans.
“I foresee a world where vampires walk freely at night and get their blood from farms of free-range normals,” the slime beast continued. “Bred especially to provide food for creatures of the night! Then their flesh can be pulped and used as feed for werewolves, pixies and zombies. This is a world where wrongs will be righted. Where injustice will be fought. And where the freaks will be in charge!” More applause echoed around the square as Belcher’s hypnotic words took effect.
“OK,” said Resus, “I was with him at the start, but this is getting weird.”
“Pulped flesh?” exclaimed Cleo. “Eurgh!”
“I don’t like this one bit,” said Luke. “And it could get out of hand very quickly. We need to find somewhere for Mr Skipstone to transform so that we can close the door at a moment’s notice.”
“That is smart, clever, top idea from your brain,” confirmed Samuel Skipstone.
Luke waited until Acrid Belcher had started up again, then he gestured for Cleo, Resus and Skipstone’s temporary body to follow him. Out of sight of the swamp monster, the odd-looking group made their way to one of the gardens that backed onto the square. Luke swung the garden gate open and gestured for his friends to follow. “OK,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t be spotted here.”
“Don’t come in – we’re hiding!”
“You idiot! You’ve given us away!”
Luke spun round to see Resus’s young cousin, Kian, crouching behind a hedge – and he wasn’t alone. The other Scream Street children – Favel the banshee and the ghostly brothers Ryan and Finn Aire – were hiding behind a garden shed.
“What are you doing here?” Resus demanded.
“WE’RE NOT TELLING YOU!” screeched Favel. “YOU COULD BE WITH THAT HORRIBLE GREEN GUY FOR ALL WE KNOW!”
Resus glanced down at his skeletal body and sighed. “It’s OK,” he insisted. “It’s me – Resus. And you’d better use your indoor voice, or we’ll all be discovered!”
Kian stood and glared at the skeleton. “Don’t lie,” he snapped. “My cousin Resus was banished to the Underpants.”
“Underlands,” corrected Ryan.
“Underlands,” said Kian. “My aunt and uncle have been really upset – and if you pretend to be Resus, it will only make them sadder!”
Cleo crouched down beside the angry young vampire. “It is us, Kian,” she said. “We’re in disguise so that Acrid Belcher won’t send us back to the Underlands.”
“Cleo?” he gasped. “Is it really you?”
Cleo nodded. “I might look like a witch, but—”
“I’m a vampire!” declared Kian.
“You are,” smiled Cleo, “and it’s lovely to see you again.”
“What’s going on out there?” asked Ryan, pointing towards the square, where Acrid Belcher was still ranting, his squelchy voice getting louder and louder as the stunned residents and terrified normals listened in silence.
“It’s just a madman planning on taking over the world,” sighed Luke.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” Resus added.
“Can I come out now?” asked a muffled voice. “It really smells in here.”
“Ethan!” cried Resus. He pulled open the flap of skin at the front of Samuel Skipstone’s body and allowed the boy to step out.
“Who is that?” asked Finn, staring up at the makeshift body.
“That’s Samuel Skipstone,” explained Cleo. “He’s a genius. The cleverest expert on Scream Street there’s ever been.”
“I did a wee-wee in my pants!” said Skipstone.
Favel frowned. “Are you sure?”
Cleo nodded. “We’ve rescued his spirit from a golden book, and now we have to make him turn into a werewolf so we can sew this back in place.” She produced a severed claw from her pocket.
“This place gets weirder every day,” the banshee commented.
“OK,” said Luke, turning to Samuel Skipstone. “Now we need you to transform, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to make you angry.”
Resus looked at the blank expression on Skipstone’s face. He was starting to dribble. “That might not be so easy…”
“What do you think would make you angry?” Cleo asked the author.
“Me not know,” replied Skipstone. “Me find it hard to know anything in this brain.”
“That could be it!” exclaimed Luke. “Mr Skipstone, who was the original owner of Scream Street’s emporium?”
“Er … me not know,” came the grunted reply.
“OK, then, which founding father agreed to the building of Sneer Hall?”
“Me not know.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Resus, “but is this really the time for a Scream Street trivia quiz?”
“It’s the perfect time,” replied Luke. “Mr Skipstone is used to having all his knowledge at his fingertips. Imagine taking that away from him…”
“It would drive him crazy,” said Cleo.
“Exactly!”
“Brilliant!” grinned Resus. “What’s Nelly Twist’s cat called?” he asked the author.
“Me not know,” muttered Skipstone.
“How long did Dr Skully work as a laboratory skeleton?” demanded Cleo.
“Me not know!” the corpse snapped.
“Where did your son live after he escaped the clutches of G.H.O.U.L.?” asked Luke.
Samuel Skipstone’s frustration was clear, even with the limited amount of muscle movement in his temporary face.
“ME NOT KNOW!” he growled, then he bent double, clutching at his open ribcage. Kian, Favel and the Aire brothers jumped back in alarm.
Ethan stood rooted to the spot. “What’s happening to him?”
“Let’s hope he’s changing into his werewolf…” said Luke.
But this was nothing like Luke’s own transformations. The bones and body parts activated by the reanimation gel simply fell apart onto the grass and began to reattach themselves in a new configuration. The skull stretched to form a snout while vertebrae from Skipstone’s spine connected up to form a bony tail. Fingers and toes snapped and reformed themselves as claws. Lastly, the sheet of leathery skin wrapped itself around the creature as a wrinkled, ageing hide.
Fully transformed, the werewolf raised its head to the sky and howled…
Miiawww!
The children remained silent. Then Resus cleared his throat. “Did he just say miaaww?” he asked.
“Never mind that,” said Cleo, producing the coffee jar. “Let’s just get this down him.” She unscrewed the top and tipped the contents onto the grass in front of the werewolf. The creature sniffed at the potion, then lapped it up hungrily. Within seconds, it was swaying woozily from side to side. Then, finally, it slumped to the ground and began to snore.
“Perfect!” exclaimed Resus. “And there’s even a space on his paw for the missing claw.”
“But we can’t stitch it back on through bone,” Cleo pointed out.
“I’ve got some glue,” said Kian, plunging his hand into his cape. “I’m a vampire!”
“Wonderful,” said Cleo as he handed her the pot of glue. “As soon as we’ve got the normals out of Scream Street we can reattach the claw. Then the doorway will close quickly behind them.”
“I don’t like leaving Mr Skipstone alone here while we sort out the normals,” said Luke. “What if he wakes up?”
“One of us could stand guard,” suggested Resus.
“I can do that if you like,” offered Favel.
“Thanks,” said Cleo. “With any luck, we’ll be back before too long.”
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br /> “How are you going to get us out of here?” asked Ethan.
“I’m not sure yet,” admitted Luke. “What we need is some kind of distraction.”
The trio turned their attention back to what was happening in the square.
“But…” cried Acrid Belcher, “you might ask, who will be the ones to make my dreams a reality? Who will round up the normals and shepherd them into their new homes while we take our rightful places in the world?” He paused for effect, his words echoing off the houses around the square. “And the answer is…” He turned to point a slimy, green finger back at the captive tourists. “YOU! You will become a new generation of Movers, destined to do my bidding and see in a new world order.”
“Ahem!” coughed Sir Otto Sneer, standing on tiptoe beside the head of G.H.O.U.L. to be certain the assembled crowd could see him.
Acrid Belcher gestured for the landlord to step forward. “Of course, we have Sir Otto to thank for finding such a large number of ‘volunteers’. And so…” The head of G.H.O.U.L. produced a thick wedge of banknotes, which he handed over to Sneer. The landlord accepted the money with glee and began to count it.
Luke gave a sharp intake of breath. “I think Sir Otto might have just sold the normals to Acrid Belcher.”
“Sold them?” exclaimed Resus. “But they’re not his to sell!”
“Maybe not,” said Luke, “but Belcher’s paid him for bringing them to Scream Street – and now he’s going to turn them all into Movers.”
“How will he do that?” asked Ethan.
“Trust me,” replied Resus, “you don’t want to know.”
“The operations will begin immediately,” gurgled Belcher. “Take them away!”
Cleo watched in horror as the Movers began to herd the normals back towards Sneer Hall. “What can we do?” she cried.
Suddenly, an explosion sounded, rocking the entire street and knocking people to the ground. Acrid Belcher stopped in his tracks. The children looked around, trying to work out where the blast had come from.
Doug, Turf and Berry’s house, number 28, lay in ruins and fire engulfed the pile of rubble that remained.
Then, through the flames, a shimmering blue shape appeared, screeching. A baby dragon. The creature unfolded its wings and took to the air with a loud cry.
Luke grinned. “I think we’ve just got our distraction.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Blaze
Within seconds, the whole of Scream Street was in chaos: residents and normals alike ran screaming from the winged beast. The dragon, equally scared, began to dive-bomb the square, swooping low and breathing fire at anything that moved.
Fences, trees and soon entire houses were quickly engulfed in flames. Whichever way the residents turned, they were faced with a burning building. Wherever the normals stumbled, a vast and menacing shadow was headed their way.
“The baby dragon!” cried Cleo. “It’s hatched!”
Resus rolled his eyes. “I see the brainiac’s caught up.”
Cleo grabbed him by his ribs. “The egg wasn’t supposed to hatch,” she retorted. “We were supposed to take it back to the mother’s nest.”
Resus pulled the mummy down just as a jet of flame shot out over their heads and exploded against the shed behind them, obliterating it. “We forgot to tell that to the egg,” he quipped.
The dragon banked round, preparing to attack the square again. “But it’ll be scared!” said Cleo.
More screams erupted as people fled, terrified, out of the creature’s path. “Yep,” said Resus. “It’s definitely the dragon who’s scared right now.”
Luke turned to Kian. “Do you have anything in your cape that we can use to cut the rope around the normals’ wrists?”
The young vampire began to rummage around inside his cloak. “I’ve got these,” he said, producing a pair of plastic safety scissors.
“That’s not exactly what I was thinking of…”
“How about these?” asked Ryan, floating across the lawn and snatching up a pair of garden shears from the ruins of the shed. “There’s another set of shears in here, and a couple of pairs of pruning scissors, too.”
“Perfect,” said Luke. “You, Ethan, Finn and Kian – get out there and start freeing the normals. Cut the rope that’s binding their wrists and tell them to make their way to the orange doorway and out of Scream Street as quickly as possible.”
The ghostly brothers, Ethan and the vampire grabbed their tools and ran for the gate. Cleo looked concerned. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked them.
Ryan beamed. “Are you kidding?” he said. “We’ve been watching you three have all the adventures – now it’s our turn to join in!”
“This is the most exciting day of my life!” cried Ethan.
“We’ll be careful,” promised Finn.
“I’m a vampire,” grinned Kian.
“Favel,” said Luke as the four of them disappeared out into the square, “let us know if the werewolf starts to come round.”
“You got it!” smiled the banshee.
Luke turned back to Resus and Cleo. “Ready?” he asked.
Resus clapped a bony hand on each of his friends’ shoulders. “Always!”
Cleo nodded. “Let’s go.”
The trio dashed back out into Scream Street. Most of the houses that bordered the square were already in flames, and plumes of black smoke rose thickly from the side streets.
Luke spotted the orange arch of the doorway in the middle of the square and sprinted towards it. A thin trickle of freed normals had already got there, and they were now on their hands and knees, crawling back to their own world and safety.
“Go!” bellowed Luke. “Get out of here!”
A skeleton and a witch appeared beside him. “Half the normals are missing!” shouted Resus, trying to be heard over the screech of the baby dragon as it made another pass overhead. “There are loads more of them than this.”
“They must be hiding somewhere!” Cleo yelled back.
“Search the gardens!” cried Luke. “Take Finn or Ryan with you and get—”
Suddenly, Everwell’s Emporium exploded, knocking the trio off their feet and showering the entire square with rubble and glass. Smoke billowed out of the store, and flickering flames could be seen as the stock inside caught alight.
“Was Eefa in there?” asked Luke, climbing back to his feet.
Cleo shook her head. “She’s over there helping Kian,” she replied, pointing to the far side of the square. Through the smoke, they could just about see the witch staring at what remained of her livelihood.
“There is someone inside, though,” Resus said. “I can see movement…”
As he spoke, Sir Otto Sneer, Dixon and Acrid Belcher emerged from the ruined emporium, coughing. Their clothes were in tatters and their faces black. “My street!” wailed Sir Otto, taking in the scene of devastation. “My beautiful street!”
“What are you moaning about?” demanded the swamp beast. “It’s just bricks and mortar. I’m losing much more than that; I’m losing my dream.”
“Nuts to your dream!” roared Sneer. “I’m not insured for any of this!”
“I gave you more than enough for the normals,” gurgled Belcher.
Sir Otto paled as he remembered the money, and he began to fumble in the pocket of his waistcoat. After a few moments, he produced the charred remains of what had been a hefty wedge of banknotes. “NOOOO!” he sobbed, dropping to his knees and bursting into tears.
Luke took in the scene, thankful that the landlord and Acrid Belcher were too preoccupied with the damage to Scream Street to have noticed the normals escaping through the doorway. He, Resus and Cleo continued to urge them on, keeping one eye on the sky in case the dragon came back.
“I can’t see it!” cried Cleo, gazing up into the smoke-filled air. “Where’s it gone?”
A piercing screech off to the left caused Resus to clamp his bony hands to the sides of his skull. “Not
far enough away by the sound of it!”
Luke grabbed the normals by their arms one after the other, helping them to slide through the low archway. “This way! Come on!”
The dragon’s shadow darkened the square again. “Why are we just standing here and taking this?” Acrid Belcher demanded. He turned to the nearest Mover and pressed his slimy fingers to the man’s forehead. “Open fire!” he gurgled.
The Mover raised his crossbow and fired. He missed the target, but the instruction quickly passed from Mover to Mover, and within seconds dozens more bolts and arrows were flying through the air. Some missed, but even those that were on target simply rebounded off the dragon’s scaly hide.
Terrified by this onslaught, the dragon began to flit about, beating its wings hard and creating powerful gusts of wind that only helped to fan the flames of the burning buildings. Then it soared up and over Sneer Hall, spitting out a searing shaft of fire and igniting the upper story of the mansion.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” screamed Sir Otto as he watched his ancestral home begin to burn furiously. Dixon scuttled over and tried to calm his uncle by gently patting him on the head.
“Man up, Sneer!” thundered Belcher. “I’m the one losing out here – and I’ll put a stop to it right now.” Grabbing the crossbow from a nearby Mover, he followed the path of the dragon overhead, and fired.
This bolt didn’t simply deflect off the dragon’s dense skin. This one found its target, plunging between two scales and embedding itself deep into the creature’s flesh. With a deafening screech, the dragon spun over onto its side and crashed to the ground.
Silence fell over Scream Street, and the only sounds to be heard were the crackle of the houses burning and the scratch of the dragon’s long claws as it dragged itself across the ground, one wing held out away from its body. Thick, gloopy blood poured from the wound, giving the shimmering scales around it a dark purple hue.
“There!” gurgled Belcher with delight. “That’s how you take down a dragon!” He snatched another bolt from the Mover’s hand and reloaded, but when he raised the bow again, he found something else in his sights. A young witch was making her way across the square towards the injured dragon.
Flame of the Dragon Page 7