Amy felt Boo’s strong wing close round hers.
The sun peeped through the cloud.
‘We’ve got to get the angle right.’ Ruth took hold of the handle as well. With her other wing she sent a squirt of grease in Fangula’s direction.
‘Darn it!’ Fangula slipped and slithered.
‘Get ready,’ Ruth whispered.
The three chickens held the magnifying glass aloft.
The sun streamed through the clouds. It shone through the glass lens onto the countess.
‘Aarrrrggghhhhh!’ the countess screamed. ‘I’m burning up!’
‘Don’t look!’ Ruth shouted.
‘La la la la la!’ Amy closed her eyes.
‘Do be do be do!’ Boo did the same.
‘Once twelve is twelve, twice twelve is twenty-four, three twelves are thirty-six …’ Ruth recited.
TTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! BOOM! There was a horrible smell of burning, then the sound of a small explosion.
Then silence.
Amy opened one eye. There was no sign of Fangula.
She opened the other eye.
‘She’s gone!’ All that remained of the vampire mink was a small pile of black soot. A wisp of smoke rose from it and disappeared into the air.
‘We did it!’ Amy cried. She let go of the magnifying glass and threw herself onto her back with her legs in the air.
Boo joined her. So did Ruth.
The three chickens held wings.
Amy examined her legs. The tattoos were falling off. So were the corns. She took a sideways peek at Boo and Ruth and giggled. What with the smudged green make-up and fake blood dripping down them from the rain they looked more hideous than ever!
‘Phew,’ said Amy, ‘that was close.’
‘Yeah, sorry about forgetting the pencil,’ said Ruth.
‘It’s fine,’ said Boo. ‘I think the magnifying glass worked better, anyway.’
Just then a wizened granny face loomed into view above Amy. Granny Wishbone! She was still ugly, but she didn’t look as if she had the bubonic plague any more. Fangula’s power was finally at an end.
‘Eeerrrhh,’ said Granny Wishbone. ‘What happened to you three? You look like something from a horror film.’
Amy, Boo and Ruth threw back their beaks and laughed.
Then Amy remembered Thaddeus E. Fox. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We’d better get back to the farm. Let’s round up the grannies.’
Down in the kitchen in the ruins of Bloodsucker Hall, Thaddeus E. Fox woke up with a start. He thought he’d heard the countess scream.
TTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! BOOM!
He pricked up his ears. Something outside sizzled, then exploded. It sounded like one of Kebab Claude’s sausages had been left on the grill a bit too long.
‘What’s going on out there?’ Tiny Tony Tiddles lifted his head.
‘I don’t know,’ Thaddeus said. ‘We’d better take a look.’ He got out of his armchair. ‘Go and check the prisoners,’ he ordered the Pigeon-Poo Gang. He felt a growing sense of alarm. Something was wrong. He knew it.
The pigeons flew away along the corridor. A loud cooing told Thaddeus all he needed to know. ‘They’ve escaped!’ the leader of the gang confirmed when he returned.
‘But how?’ Thaddeus E. Fox cursed his ill luck.
‘Zey couldn’t have got out wizout ’elp,’ Kebab Claude said.
‘But no one’s been here this afternoon,’ Thaddeus fumed. ‘Except those zombie chickens.’
‘What zombie chickens?’ Tiny Tony Tiddles demanded.
‘The three that came to check if Rooster had been eating garlic,’ Thaddeus dismissed the question. ‘The countess sent them.’
‘It was daylight,’ Tiny Tony Tiddles said slowly. ‘The countess was asleep.’
Thaddeus stared at him. Tiddles was right. The countess couldn’t have sent them.
‘Three chickens, did you say?’ asked Kebab Claude. ‘What were zey like?’
‘Pretty hideous …’ Thaddeus E. Fox tried to remember. ‘One was small with a fat tummy. One had feathery boots …’ He stopped. His voice trailed off.
‘Let me guess,’ Tiny Tony Tiddles said. ‘The other one had specs.’ He gave a shake of his head. ‘Those weren’t chicken zombies, dude. Those were Professor Rooster’s elite chicken squad in disguise.’
‘I thought you said zey were dumb,’ Claude said, puzzled. ‘Sounds like zey’re pretty smart to me.’
Thaddeus E. Fox gave a roar of rage. He smashed his cane on the floor. He rushed into the kitchen and ripped all the stuffing out of the armchair and shredded it. The chickens! They had tricked him again! Well, if they wanted to play dirty then so would he. Pretending the armchair stuffing was Amy, Boo and Ruth, he tossed it into the air with his teeth and watched it flutter down into the fireplace and catch light.
‘Gentlemen,’ he hissed, ‘change of plan. We won’t wait for nightfall. We’ll raid the chicken sheds now.’
‘I wish they’d hurry up!’ Amy, Boo and Ruth struggled across the moor with the granny chickens. The grannies kept stopping to admire the view and complain about their corns. ‘We’ll never make it at this rate!’
Just then they heard angry barking coming from the direction of the hall.
‘It’s Fox!’ Boo whispered.
‘He must have realised he’s been tricked,’ Ruth gulped.
The barking came again.
‘You two go on ahead and warn the professor!’ Amy urged.
‘Are you sure, Amy?’ Ruth asked.
‘Yes.’ The barking was getting louder. ‘I’ll get the grannies under cover. It’s the chickens in the sheds Fox is after. He won’t bother with a lot of scrawny old granny hens.’
‘But …’ Boo hesitated.
‘Go!’ Amy insisted. ‘Take Ichabod with you,’ she added.
Ichabod Comb was looking a lot better. He was still pretty much featherless, but at least the goo had gone. He might be able to help.
‘Okay!’ Boo and Ruth scuttled off with the rooster.
‘Time for a rest!’ Amy squawked at the grannies. ‘Over here.’ Amy led them away from the path out onto the moor where the grass was thick and tufty. ‘This will do!’ She picked a spot dense with clumps of heather. The grannies flopped onto the springy plants. Amy watched, satisfied. The hens were hard to spot amongst the heather unless you were looking for them. And Thaddeus wouldn’t waste time with that. She decided to leave them here until the fight was over. It was probably the safest place.
‘Anyone feeling peckish?’ Granny Wishbone fished under her wing and produced a net bag full of grain.
‘Yes, I am,’ said Amy. She was starving. Breakfast seemed a very long time ago.
Granny Wishbone opened the bag carefully. She gave Amy the tiniest morsel of grain she could find and set about gobbling up the rest.
‘Thanks a lot,’ said Amy.
PHUT!
She looked up. Three grey and purple birds circled overhead. ‘The Pigeon-Poo Gang!’ she gasped. They had sniffed out the grain! ‘Quick!’ she cried. ‘Hide the grain!’
Granny Wishbone kept scoffing.
PHUT! PHUT! PHUT!
The pigeons began an aerial bombardment. The hens scuttled this way and that.
‘Put it away!’ Amy screamed. ‘Before they sludge us to death.’
PHUT! PHUT! PHUT!
The Pigeon-Poo Gang flew back in the opposite direction.
‘I can’t!’ Granny Wishbone had been hit. Her beak was glued to her corns.
‘Get under cover!’ shouted Amy.
The grannies wriggled under the heather.
Amy looked about for a weapon. She spied Granny Wishbone’s Zimmer frame. ‘Can I borrow this for a second?’ she said.
‘No!’ Granny Wishbone screeched. ‘That’s my best one.’
‘Too bad.’ Amy grabbed the Zimmer frame. The pigeons circled again. ‘Now for a new world record throw!’ Amy took aim and hurled the Zimmer frame into the air.
BASH! It hit the three pigeons bang on the beaks. They plummeted towards the ground, then flew off haphazardly across the moor in the direction of the Deep Dark Woods.
‘Ha, ha!’ Amy crowed. ‘Not bad for a beginner. Wait there,’ she told the grannies, ‘I’ll be back soon.’ She scuttled off across the moor towards Fogsham Farm.
Amy hopped over the farmyard wall and sneaked towards the sleeping coop. Thaddeus E. Fox and his friends hadn’t reached the farm yet. They must still be figuring out what had happened to the countess.
‘Pssssst! Amy!’ Boo’s voice came from the hospital shed. ‘Over here!’
Amy scuttled over. The door opened a fraction. Amy squeezed through.
Boo and Ruth were there. So were the professor and James Pond. James Pond looked better than he had in the dungeon but Amy could tell from his haunted expression that he was still spooked. Amy wasn’t sure how much help he would be. It was down to Professor Rooster and his elite chicken squad to defend the roost.
Amy gave them her news about the grannies.
‘So we don’t need to worry about the Pigeon-Poo Gang,’ Professor Rooster concluded. ‘Well done, Amy.’
‘Thanks!’ Amy felt shy again. It was cool getting praise from the professor but she didn’t know what to say in reply. ‘Where’s everyone else?’ she asked instead.
‘In the underground bunker,’ Professor Rooster said.
‘What underground bunker?’
‘Rossiter and his chickens have converted Thaddeus’s tunnel into a hidey-hole,’ Professor Rooster explained. ‘We’ve blocked the entrance beside the wall with cow dung. There’s no way Fox and his pals will want to get that on their fur. The only way into the bunker is through here.’
‘What about the juice shed? Didn’t he dig a tunnel into that as well?’ Amy asked.
‘Ichabod nailed the floor down so tight a woodlouse couldn’t get through it,’ James Pond said.
Amy nodded. ‘What weapons have we got?’ she asked.
‘Not many, I’m afraid,’ said Professor Rooster. ‘I only put standard vampire issue in the Emergency Chicken Pack and you’ve used quite a lot of that already. There’s the hammer, the pencil, the sharpener, the grease squirt and the magnifying glass. Then there’s the mite blaster, of course. And we found some string, which might come in useful. And an old bucket.’
Some string and an old bucket! Amy tried to figure out how they would help.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
The chickens jumped.
‘I know you’re in there, Rooster,’ Thaddeus’s voice came through the planks. ‘We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You and your chickens surrender and we won’t harm the others. If you don’t, we’ll kill the lot of you.’
‘No deal, Fox,’ Professor Rooster shouted back. ‘We chickens stick together.’ He smiled at Amy. She felt her heart glow with pride.
‘All right,’ Thaddeus snarled. ‘Don’t say you weren’t warned.’
Amy heard muttering.
BOOMPH! The door of the shed rattled.
Ruth fixed the tube into the mite blaster. ‘We’ve only got one tube,’ she said. ‘We mustn’t waste it.’
The door rattled again. ‘Put your back into it, Claude!’ Thaddeus shouted.
Amy peeped through the window of the chicken shed. Kebab Claude was backing up, ready for another charge at the door.
‘I wish he’d fall over!’ Boo was beside her.
‘What did you say?’ Amy pulled a bit of straw out of her ears. It had been lurking in there all the time.
‘I said I wish he’d fall over,’ Boo repeated.
An idea pinged into Amy’s head replacing the straw.
‘He will if I squirt grease at him.’ She picked up the canister.
‘That’s a good idea, Amy,’ Professor Rooster said slowly. ‘Then we can keep the mite blaster up our wings for later.’ He scratched his crop. ‘The question is how are you going to stop Kebab Claude without the villains seeing you?’
Amy considered for a minute. ‘I know!’ She’d had another good idea. Getting rid of that straw between her ears had made all the difference. ‘I’ll hide under the bucket!’
BOOMPH! Kebab Claude thudded into the front door. Two of the nails fell out. James Pond hammered them back in. ‘We need to hurry,’ he said. ‘The planks are giving way.’
‘Very well,’ Professor Rooster said. ‘Let’s put Amy’s plan into action.’
Amy did some breathing exercises while Ruth made two spy holes in the bucket with a nail and a third one at about tummy height for Amy to stick the grease squirt nozzle through. Amy tried the nozzle for size.
‘Perfect!’ Ruth said.
‘All clear!’ Boo was keeping watch at the window. ‘The villains are still at the front.’
Ruth levered open a plank at the back of the shed with the claw of the hammer. Amy crept out. Ruth handed Amy the grease squirt and lifted the bucket over her head.
Everything went dark.
‘Are you all right in there?’ Ruth hissed.
‘Yes, fine.’ Amy’s voice echoed around the bucket.
‘Good luck!’ Professor Rooster said.
Amy heard the BANG BANG BANG of nails being driven back through the planks. She was on her own: for now, anyway.
Amy tiptoed round the corner of the shed and stopped. She sank to her knees so that the rim of the bucket was on the ground, completely covering her legs. She didn’t want the villains to see the bucket moving or they would guess that something chickeny was going on. She would have to take it in stages.
She peeped out of the spy holes.
There was Thaddeus E. Fox, immaculate in his top hat and tails. Tiny Tony Tiddles paced impatiently beside him with his fedora at a jaunty angle. She would have to be careful of the cat, Amy decided. He looked tricky. She got to her feet and tottered off again.
TRIP! Amy felt her left foot catch on something. She staggered forwards, the bucket swivelling about on her head. Somehow she managed to keep her balance. She stopped again and peeped through the spy holes in the direction she had come. A green rubber tube zigzagged along the ground. At first she thought it might be a grass snake but then she realised she had tripped over the hosepipe.
‘Go further back!’ Thaddeus ordered. ‘Get some speed up this time.’
Amy turned her attention back to the villains. Kebab Claude had retreated to the farmyard wall. Thaddeus and Tiny Tony had their eyes on him. She scuttled forward.
SPLODGE!
A nasty smell rose from the ground. Amy glanced down. Her feet were all brown. Honestly! Now she’d trodden in a cowpat!
She took a few more steps and poked the grease squirt nozzle through the tummy hole.
KALUMP! KALUMP! KALUMP! KALUMP! KALUMP!
Kebab Claude thundered towards the shed.
Amy’s wing closed on the grease squirt button. Any minute now, she thought. Kebab Claude’s paws came into view. Amy squeezed the button as hard as she could.
FTSSSSSSSSSSSSS! The grease squirted out of the nozzle and onto Kebab Claude.
‘Whoaaaoooaaaoooo!’ Kebab Claude scrabbled for a hold with his claws.
‘What’s the matter?’ Thaddeus shouted at him.
FTSSSSSSSSSSSSS! Amy squeezed again.
‘I slipped on ze ice!’
From her vantage point in the bucket Amy saw Kebab Claude’s paws circle in front of her as if he was doing the doggy paddle. Her heart thumped. Kebab was getting dangerously close to knocking the bucket over. But if she tried to escape now, the villains would see it moving. She would have to wait.
‘Ice?’ Thaddeus echoed. ‘There wasn’t any ice there a minute ago.’
CRASH! Kebab Claude couldn’t stay upright any more. He crashed to the ground and skidded towards Amy.
SMASH! He smashed into the bucket.
Amy felt herself being catapulted into the air. The bucket flew off. She landed in a heap in the cowpat, still clutching the grease squirt.
&
nbsp; Amy looked up. Three pairs of yellow eyes glared down at her. ‘Er … hello,’ she said.
‘You again!’ Thaddeus E. Fox snarled.
‘Run, Amy!’
Amy looked up. Boo stood a little way away from her. She was holding the end of the hosepipe in her wings. Behind her, by the hospital shed, was Ruth.
FTSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! ‘Take that, losers!’ Amy gave one final push on the grease squirt button and ran for her life back towards the hospital shed.
‘Get her!’ The fox, the dog and the cat set off in pursuit of Amy. ‘Owwwwwwwww!’
Amy glanced behind. The grease squirt had done its job again. The three baddies fell over in the cowpat.
‘This is disgusting!’ howled Kebab Claude.
‘It’s your fault, Fox!’ yowled Tiny Tony Tiddles.
‘Shut up!’ Thaddeus E. Fox lashed out at them both. His glossy red fur was covered in muck. It was in his tail. It was in his whiskers. It was up his nose. Somehow or other it had even got in his ears. How he hated those chickens!
Amy reached Boo. ‘Time those villains had a bath!’ Boo said.
Amy helped her friend grip the end of the hosepipe.
‘Turn the water on, Ruth!’ Boo shouted.
Ruth turned on the tap.
SPLOOSH!
A jet of water shot out of the end of the hosepipe and hit Thaddeus in the face. It streamed off him onto the other two animals in an imitation of a waterfall, and dripped onto the gloopy remains of the cowpat.
‘I hate water!’ Tiny Tony Tiddles screamed.
The three villains paddled and flopped and wallowed.
‘Time for a dose of mites!’ Ruth stepped forward with the mite blaster.
‘No!’ the villains begged.
‘All right, then,’ Ruth relented. ‘But go. Right now, or I’ll blast you.’
‘Yeah, time to push off!’ Amy yelled.
The villains struggled to their feet. Tiny Tony Tiddles stalked away and disappeared onto the moor. Kebab Claude limped after him.
Thaddeus E. Fox had reached the farmyard wall. He paused with one paw in the air and looked back.
‘You heard!’ Professor Rooster stood beside his elite chicken squad. He had the string in one wing. The other he placed on Amy’s shoulder. ‘Push off! Or we’ll tie you up and leave you for the farmer.’
The Curse of Fogsham Farm Page 9