Revenge of the Phantom Furball

by Sam Hay

  For Alice and Archie - SH

  For Joe, number one cool cat - SC

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Copyright

  It was Saturday morning, and Joe was in the paint department of the local DIY superstore. He was just wondering what colour he could make if he blended orange, purple and gold paint, when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a streak of grey disappearing under the shelves.

  “What was that?” he said.

  “Mmm?” muttered Dad, who was reading the labels on the paint tins. He didn’t look up.

  Joe’s big sister, Sarah, frowned. “I didn’t see anything.”

  “It was grey, sort of like a squirrel or something,” said Joe, crouching down and peering under the shelves to see where it had gone.

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “They don’t let squirrels in shops, weirdo!”

  Joe scowled and tried to think of a clever reply, but just then his little brother, Toby, whizzed past, doing a wheelie with the shopping trolley.

  “Look out!” called Dad.

  “Hey!” yelped Sarah, jumping out of the way.

  Joe grinned. With a bit of luck Toby would get her next time! He turned back to the paint charts and was about to invent another crazy colour combination, when suddenly he saw it again – a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned sharply and saw a tail disappearing round the top of the aisle.

  “There it is!” he yelled. “Look, Dad!”

  “Hmm?” Dad looked up. “What is it, Joe?”

  “A squirrel out doing its shopping, apparently,” Sarah smirked.

  “I definitely saw something,” huffed Joe.

  “OK, OK,” said Dad, trying to soothe the situation. “Maybe it was a guide dog – they’re allowed in shops.”

  Joe was about to explain that it was smaller than a guide dog, when Toby whizzed past again.

  “Stop that!” Dad reached out and grabbed the trolley, stopping it dead. He sighed. “The sooner you let me concentrate on choosing this paint, the sooner we can get out of here.” He turned to Sarah. “Hurry up and decide which colour you want for your bedroom. Toby, you hold the trolley still while I load it up. And Joe, can you go and find me a plug for the bath? Which reminds me, you still need to get a new sponge for your mum!”

  Joe’s face reddened. Mum’s last bath sponge had been chewed up by an undead pet that visited him – a zombie hamster named Dumpling with a huge appetite! Not that his parents knew that. No one else had been able to see the hamster apart from Joe. So he’d got the blame for the mangled sponge – not to mention turning their kitchen upside down and scoffing his headteacher’s packed lunch!

  “And don’t forget you promised to pay for it out of your pocket money,” added Dad. “It’ll be a nice surprise for Mum when she gets back from work.”

  Joe sighed. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair!

  The bathroom department was right at the back of the shop. Joe walked through the aisles, past towering shelves. There was an entire section filled with different loo seats. Joe had never seen so many designs. There were all the usual ones, and some fancy ones, too – a shiny gold one, a see-through one with goldfish printed on it … and a very weird one that looked like a shark’s mouth. Joe smiled; he wished he could buy that to scare Sarah! He was just searching for bath plugs, when suddenly a small furry head popped out of one of the display toilets.

  “Whoa!” Joe jumped. It definitely wasn’t a guide dog, but it wasn’t a squirrel either. It was a cat – an odd-looking silvery-grey cat that was covered in dirty bandages. As soon as it spotted Joe, it shot out of the toilet like a cannonball, straight into his arms, and gripped on tightly with its claws.

  “Ow!” Joe yelped, as the cat clawed its way up to his shoulder where it perched like a parrot, peering into his face. Joe winced. Its breath smelled of rotten fish.

  “You’re Joe, aren’t you?” it yowled in a high-pitched voice. “Joe Edmunds, the keeper of the Amulet of Anubis? I need your help!”

  Joe groaned. Not another undead pet! It had been just over a week since Dumpling had visited, and things were just getting back to normal.

  The cat nuzzled into his neck with its big furry face. Joe wrinkled his nose. Its breath really did pong.

  “My name’s Pickle,” it said.

  Joe rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me – you’re in a bit of a pickle, Pickle!” But the cat didn’t seem to find Joe’s joke funny. She dug her claws deeper into his shoulder. “Hey! Stop that, it hurts!” Joe squeaked.

  “I need your help to save my sister,” whined the cat. “I’ve been trying to speak to you for days. But there’s been so much horrible noise coming from your house that I’ve been too scared to get close. I hate noise!”

  Joe frowned. What was the cat talking about? Then he remembered that Dad had been building Sarah a wardrobe using his power tools.

  Pickle started to purr. “At least it’s quiet here…”

  Just then there was a loud PING-PONG from above them, and a booming voice echoed around the shop.

  Pickle leaped out of Joe’s arms with a howl and darted away.

  “Hey,” Joe called, “it’s only the tannoy!” But Pickle wasn’t listening. As she sped across the shop floor, Joe noticed that her bandages were beginning to unravel. “Watch out!” he called.

  But it was too late. Pickle tripped over the trailing bandages, landing with a thump on the shiny lino and skidding wildly out of control. She finally came to a stop when she crashed head first into a pyramid of paint tins.

  “Uh-oh,” Joe muttered.

  There were tins everywhere – rolling down the aisle, disappearing under the shelves – and right in the middle of the chaos was Pickle, doing her best to dodge them. As she jumped out of the way, she bumped into a display of windscreen washer fluid stacked into a great tower. The bottles wobbled, then slowly began to topple.

  “Help!” yowled Pickle, leaping out of the way.

  Several of the bottles split as they hit the ground, spilling everywhere. Joe watched as a puddle oozed across the floor towards Pickle. “Look out!” he called.

  Yowling and howling, Pickle took off once more, her paws sliding as she disappeared round the corner of the aisle. Joe turned to see three shop assistants and the store manager appear behind him.

  Joe glanced at the mess, then at the shop staff who were glaring at him crossly.

  He gulped. “I can explain…” But he didn’t get the chance to try, because just then there was a loud CRASH! from the other side of the store, followed by the sound of breaking glass.

  “That way!” shouted the store manager as he took off down the aisle, leaping over the lake of spilt liquid. His staff followed close behind, and Joe brought up the rear.

  “It came from the lighting department,” the store manager called, just as there was another CRASH!

  Joe turned the corner and gasped. Hundreds of different lampshades were on display, and two large glass chandeliers lay shattered on the ground. Peering down from the metal beams high above them was an anxious-looking Pickle. Her fur was standing on end and her tail was swishing to and fro.

  “I didn’t mean to do it!” she wailed. “I was trying to get away from the noise!”

  “Don’t move,” hissed Joe, “or you’ll knock more down!”

  “What?” the store manager glanced at him sh
arply, and then looked up to the beams. Joe sighed. Being the only one who could see these undead pets did make things complicated! The store manager clearly couldn’t see Pickle. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Is this some sort of a prank?” His eyes bored into Joe.

  “No! Of course not!” Joe squeaked.

  The store manager glared at him, then turned to his assistant. “Get this glass cleared up immediately, and put out an announcement that the lighting department is closed until further notice.”

  Joe gasped. Not another announcement! Pickle was sitting right next to the loudspeaker – she’d get the fright of her life! But there was no way he could warn her, as the store manager still had his beady eyes fixed on Joe.

  “What’s your name? Where are your parents?”

  “My name’s Joe, and … er … my dad’s over there.”

  He pointed at Dad, who had just appeared with Sarah and Toby, pushing a trolley full of paint. Dad looked down at the mess, then at Joe standing in the middle of it. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Joe was about to answer when suddenly the dreaded PING-PONG of a shop announcement blasted out above them.

  “MEOW!” Pickle leaped up into the air, her fur standing on end like pins on a pincushion.

  At the sound of the tannoy, Pickle raced away across the beams, springing from one to the other. But as she jumped, her bandages got tangled round her back paws and she tripped. She grabbed hold of a nearby electrical cable in an attempt to break her fall and suddenly she found herself dangling in mid-air. She gripped the cable with her paws, but they were still slippery from the windscreen washer fluid and she began to slide downwards.

  “Hold on, Pickle!” Joe said under his breath.

  Pickle looked at him desperately. Then, without thinking, she bit down on the cable with her teeth.

  “NO!” yelled Joe. He was no electrical expert, but even he didn’t think biting a cable was a very good idea.

  And he was right.

  BANG!

  For one ghastly second Pickle lit up like a light bulb.

  Then all the lights went out.

  Everyone gasped. The store manager’s mouth opened like a goldfish and Toby breathed, “Wow!”

  “’Joe!” Pickle yowled miserably from above, her teeth still clenched on the cable. “Help!”

  Despite short-circuiting every light in the shop, Joe could see Pickle wasn’t hurt – undead pets obviously couldn’t feel pain.

  “Jump!” he hissed.

  “Who are you talking to, squirt?” Sarah glared at him.

  “Er … the squirrel,” muttered Joe. “I saw it up there a minute ago.”

  “What squirrel?” The store manager peered down at him, his face like thunder. “Did you bring a squirrel into my shop?”

  But before Joe could answer, the cable snapped and Pickle plummeted to the ground. And then Joe felt water sprinkling down.

  “Why is it raining in here?” asked Toby.

  Dad grimaced. “I think the shop’s emergency sprinkler system has kicked in!”

  Water was spraying down on them from above, as though someone had turned on a giant shower. There were shouts and yells, and customers ran for the doors. But it was too late. Everyone was already soaked.

  “I still don’t see how one small squirrel could cause so much trouble,” said Mum.

  Joe and his family were sitting round the kitchen table, having a late lunch. After the incident in the DIY store, they’d spent an hour in the manager’s office, trying to convince him that Joe hadn’t brought a squirrel into the shop. The manager didn’t have any evidence, so he had eventually let them go.

  “Maybe it wasn’t a squirrel,” said Sarah. “We only have freak-boy’s word for it!”

  “Hey!” shouted Joe.

  “Don’t call him that, Sarah,” Mum said.

  Joe scowled at his sister and tried to kick her under the table. But she quickly moved her legs out of the way.

  “Well, it must have been an animal of some sort to make such a mess,” said Dad.

  Joe felt his cheeks redden. If only they knew! Luckily, Pickle had run out of the shop as soon as the sprinkler had started. But Joe knew it wouldn’t be long before she appeared again. He glanced at the clock. “Can I go out now? I’m meeting some mates to play football.”

  Mum nodded.

  “Can I come, too?” said Toby, stuffing the last of his salad in his cheeks like a hamster.

  Joe made a face. Saturday afternoons were his favourite time of the week. He always spent them in the park playing football with his best mate, Matt, and some other kids from school. After such a crazy morning, he was looking forward to it even more than usual. He definitely didn’t want to have to look after his little brother all afternoon.

  “That would be nice,” said Mum, ignoring Joe’s grumpy expression. “It’ll give Dad a chance to get on with the painting. And I can do some weeding. The front garden is like a jungle!”

  Joe groaned. “Can’t Sarah look after Toby?”

  “I’ve got a friend coming over,” she said smugly.

  Toby looked at him pleadingly.

  “OK, fine,” Joe sighed.

  It was a sunny afternoon, and by the time they got to the park, it was full of people – dog walkers, joggers, families picnicking and loads of kids from school.

  Matt was there already, kicking a ball with some other boys. He waved when he saw Joe and Toby. “Hey, Joe! It’s your turn in goal this week!” Matt grinned and kicked the ball to Joe.

  “Great!” Joe replied sarcastically. He hated being stuck in goal.

  Joe dribbled the ball over towards the goal while Matt and the other kids made two teams. As the youngest, Toby was left to last, but eventually Joe’s mate Ben took pity on him and let Toby join his team – playing against his big brother. Not that Joe cared. He had other worries. He’d just spotted who was in the other goal. Nicholas Branch. Or Nick the Stick as he was known, because he was so tall and thin. He was the best goalie in school, which meant Joe would have to try extra hard to keep his side from defeat.

  Joe was blissfully lost in the game until suddenly he spotted something – a flash of grey disappearing into a clump of bushes.

  It was Pickle.

  “Great!” he muttered. “That’s all I need.”

  Joe ignored her, hoping she’d go away again.

  But after a few minutes, when all the action had moved to the other end of the pitch, she darted over to him, her loose bandages flapping in the breeze.

  “Hi, Joe,” she said, wrapping herself round his legs and butting his knees with her head. “Come with me! I need your help to protect my sister. I can show you the way to my house.”

  “Not now!” said Joe, trying to keep an eye on the ball. The players were heading back up the pitch, but Pickle didn’t seem to have noticed.

  “It won’t take long,” she whined.

  “Later,” said Joe, glaring at her. “Can’t you see, I’m busy!”

  As he spoke there was a sudden warning shout from Matt, and the ball whizzed over Joe’s head, straight into the back of the net.

  “Goal!” Toby cried proudly. He’d never scored against his big brother before.

  The other boys on Toby’s team cheered.

  “Stop daydreaming, Joe!” yelled Matt.

  Joe scowled, and kicked the ball as far down the field as he could. When the rest of the players had run off, he turned angrily to Pickle – but she’d vanished.

  “Up here, Joe.”

  He glanced up. There was Pickle, clinging to the crossbar.

  “That ball nearly hit me!” she moaned. “Please can we go now?”

  “No!” Joe snapped. “Later!”

  He tried to concentrate on the game, but it was hard with an undead cat above his head. He let another goal in, but then his team equalized. It didn’t last long, because “the Bull” – Jake Bellingham – got the ball. Everyone called him the Bull because he bulldozed his way through the opposit
ion! There was no stopping him now.

  Joe gulped. The Bull was hurtling down the pitch towards him, dodging his team’s defenders. Joe squatted, ready to make a dive for the ball, when suddenly a dog started barking nearby…

  “A dog! Save me, Joe!” squealed Pickle. She dropped like a stone, right on to Joe’s head, wrapping her bandaged tail round his face and blocking his view, just as the ball sailed past him into the net.

  “What’s with you today?” Matt asked as they walked home. “You missed four easy saves!”

  Joe shrugged. “Er, a wasp was buzzing around my face.”

  Matt sighed. Toby, meanwhile, couldn’t stop grinning. “Four–three! Four–three!” he sang, while Pickle scampered behind them, trying to keep up, her bandage trailing along the ground. Every so often she’d yowl, “Wait for me, Joe!”

  But Joe ignored her. He’d had enough of being the Protector of Undead Pets. He needed to find a way of undoing the wish on the amulet.

  “By the way,” said Matt. “Can I come round to your house tomorrow? My aunt and uncle are visiting and I don’t want to get stuck playing with my cousins!”

  Joe grinned. He knew how much Matt hated having to entertain the twins, Lily and Lolly. “Sure,” he said, glad to be back on good terms with his best mate. He just hoped he’d have got rid of Pickle by then.

  Joe and Toby left Matt at the corner of their road and headed for home. Mum, who was doing some weeding in the front garden, called to them. “How did it go?”

  “I scored a goal and beat Joe!” beamed Toby.

  “Well done, Toby!” she smiled, then added, “Bad luck, though, Joe.”

  Joe made a grumpy face and continued to ignore Pickle, who was now rubbing her head against his legs, trying to get his attention.