It turned out that Kevin had seen lots of scary films. It was the first time Bertie had heard him say more than three words.
They switched off the big light and settled down to watch the film.
It was midnight. The moon was out. The people in the house were all asleep. An eerie mist rose off the lake. Bertie sunk deeper and deeper into the sofa. He hugged his pillow.
He hoped there weren’t actual zombies in this film.
THUD, THUD, THUD!
Bertie gulped. They were coming.
CRASH! A zombie’s hand smashed through a window.
“YEAARRRRGH!” yelped Bertie, diving behind the sofa.
He peeped out. The zombies were in the house. They walked like robots and had staring eyes. They were climbing the stairs to where the people were sleeping…
Bertie chewed his fist. Why hadn’t anyone warned him scary films were so … scary? Maybe he should go to bed? But if he went upstairs he’d never get to sleep. He would lie there all alone in the dark. And what if the zombies came to get him? He peeped through his fingers at the screen.
What was that? The room was suddenly dazzled with light. Two bright eyes beamed through the curtains like headlights. Wait a moment, they were headlights. A car was pulling into the drive. Help! This was worse than any horror film! Mum and Dad were back already!
CHAPTER 4
Bertie looked around wildly. The house looked like it had been burgled. The floor was a sea of crisp packets, biscuits and sticky chocolate wrappers. There was a wet patch on the carpet and beside it the remains of Mum’s best vase. One of the pillows looked like a punctured football. White feathers had settled on everything like snow. Bertie felt a wave of panic. If Mum and Dad saw the house like this he was dead.
He shook Kevin by the arm. “Quick! They’re back!”
“What?”
“Mum and Dad! We’ve got to tidy up!”
Kevin frowned. “You’re blocking the screen! This is a good bit!”
Bertie couldn’t believe it. Was Kevin just going to sit there and watch the film? This was a matter of life and death!
A car door slammed. Any minute now Dad’s key would turn in the lock. There was no time to lose. Bertie flew round the room like a whirlwind. He hid the pillows behind the TV. He brushed feathers under the sofa. He righted the fallen lamp and mopped the puddle on the carpet with tissues. What else? What else? Mum’s best vase! Bertie got down on his hands and knees and picked up the bits. He grabbed flowers and crisp packets and sticky wrappers.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
They were coming up the path! He rushed into the kitchen with his arms full. Quick, quick, where could he hide the evidence? The fridge! No one would look in there! He yanked open the fridge door and bundled everything inside.
RATTLE, RATTLE!
The key was turning in the lock. Bertie slammed the fridge shut and thumped upstairs in a blur of speed. Just in time! He burst into his room, dived under the covers and lay there panting.
“Kevin! We’re back!” called Mum. “Was everything OK?”
Bertie listened with his heart pounding. A few minutes later he heard the front door slam. Kevin had gone. Bertie lay back and breathed a sigh of relief. It was a close thing, but he thought he’d got away with it. Mum and Dad hadn’t noticed anything. He stole out of bed and crept on to the landing.
“Such a nice quiet boy,” said Mum. “I hope he and Bertie got on all right.”
“Well at least he’s in bed,” said Dad. “And the house is still in one piece. Do you want a bedtime drink?”
Bertie froze. No! How could he have been so stupid? His dad always made hot chocolate at bedtime. Hot chocolate needed milk. And milk was kept in the…
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
Characters created by David Roberts
Text copyright © Alan MacDonald, 2009
Illustrations copyright © David Roberts, 2009
First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2012.
eISBN: 978–1–84715–402–6
The right of Alan MacDonald and David Roberts to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
www.stripespublishing.co.uk
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