Bug Eyed Monsters (6 page)

He threw back the duvet – and then stopped. Maybe going to the bathroom wouldn't be such a good idea after all. Not with mad aliens on the loose, foaming at the mouth. For all he knew, the Snitch might spend the entire night with his ear to the door crack, waiting to leap out on unsuspecting boys.

The trouble was, now he had thought about going to the bathroom he suddenly desperately needed to. If he hadn't thought about it, he'd have been all right.

His legs were starting to twitch. He stuck one out of the bed and wriggled his toes. Then he stuck the other out the other side. Then he humpled over, on to his front, both arms under the pillow. The pillow was full of lumps and bumps. Harry flung himself about the bed, trying to get comfortable. The church clock chimed the quarter.

It was no use, he would have to go! Slowly and reluctantly, Harry eased himself
out from under the duvet. For a minute he was tempted to wake Joe, just for a bit of company, but that would be too much like being four years old all over again. When Harry had been four years old he had been scared to go upstairs by himself at Gran and Granddad's because of the monster that lived in the attic. He was eleven now! You didn't ask your best friend to go to the bathroom with you when you were eleven years old, not even if there were a whole horde of mad aliens foaming at the mouth, waiting to spring out at you.

Harry took a deep breath, slipped through the door and did a record-breaking dash along the corridor. He had never moved so fast in all his life! Mr O'Hooligan would have been proud of him.

As he sprinted, there and back, he caught snatches of alien language.

‘Glaaaaaa-AAAAA-ergh…
‘

The Snitch was at it again! Using his communicator. Perhaps they got cheap rates if they called after midnight? Or
maybe that was the best time for getting through? Atmospherics, or something.

Harry took a flying leap back into bed and pulled the duvet up. His heart was pounding, but at least his head wasn't full of bees any more. He knew, now, what it was that had been nagging at him.

He was about to give Joe a prod, in the next bed, when he heard the sound of a door opening. Mr Snitcher! Harry froze, expecting him at any moment to come bursting in, frothing and foaming, eyes gleaming a ferocious red in the darkness. But then there was a creaking of floor boards, and footsteps moving off, along the corridor.

Phew! Harry felt a trickle of perspiration down his spine. It was no joke, sleeping next door to an alien.

‘Hey!' He leaned across and poked at Joe. ‘You awake?'

‘Wozz madder?' Joe mumbled grumpily.

‘You know Mr Hodge?'

Joe grunted.

‘I was just thinking,' said Harry. ‘I can remember him bringing bags of chips into class, cos it was like my first term and I'd never known a teacher do that before. I thought it was pretty cool! Remember how he used to chuck ‘em at us if we weren't paying attention?'

‘Yeah.' Joe propped himself on an elbow. He remembered that, all right. Sometimes they hadn't paid attention on purpose, in the hope of getting a few chips lobbed in their direction. Mr Hodge had been OK!

‘And then he suddenly left,' said Harry, ‘and Mr Potts came, and I was just wondering, didn't Mr P– '

Joe never discovered what it was that Harry was wondering, for at that moment there came a strange sound, as of something being ripped apart, almost as if the sky itself were being torn open, while at the same time a flash of brilliant green lit up the dorm.

Joe and Harry flung themselves out of bed and across to the window.

‘Wossup?'

That was Bal, blinking in the sudden brightness.

‘Woss goin' on?'

That was Ryan, blearily opening his eyes.

‘Look!'

Joe was pointing. They scrambled across to join him and Harry at the window. ‘Wow…'

They stood, transfixed, staring out into the night. The light had faded, leaving an eerie glow, like a green mist, encircling the top of Bunker's Hill.

‘What is it?' whispered Ryan.

‘They've landed,' said Joe.

Dimly, they made out a large, saucerlike shape emerging from the mist.

‘It's a ship.…'

Even Joe sounded awestruck. He might have told Harry's granddad that Bunker's Hill was where the alien ships touched down, but he'd never expected it to actually happen. It had just been a game! Nobody really believed it was true. Like the poor old Fish and his UFOs. Nobody
believed
him.

They crammed at the window, watching as the mist slowly cleared. The saucer-like shape seemed to skim the surface, then finally settle, just out of sight, behind a ridge of trees.

Nobody suggested that they should leave the safety of the dorm and go creeping out to investigate. Not even Joe was bold enough for that.

But then, as they watched, a figure appeared, making its way across the playing field. They saw it open the gate and set off down the path. It was heading for the hill!

Harry's fingers felt for Joe's arm and gripped it. Ryan swallowed.

‘Who is it?'

‘Gotta be the Snitch,' said Harry.

Joe pressed his nose to the window, trying to get a better view, but the figure was too far off.

‘Gotta be,' said Harry. ‘I heard him leave his room just a few seconds ago.'

Joe narrowed his eyes. It certainly looked like it could be the Snitch.

There was a pause.

‘Guess we prob'ly ought to go and make sure.'

Joe said it as carelessly as he could, like it was no big deal. Just tracking an extra-terrestrial up the side of a hill at dead of night as it went to meet an alien spacecraft. Nothing to get freaked out about.

‘What d'you reckon?' said Joe.

‘Yeah.' Harry nodded. ‘I reckon we ought.'

Wouldn't that be something to tell Granddad? Then let Gran sniff and say they were just being silly!

‘You coming, then?' said Joe. He threw open the window. ‘Down the fire escape!'

One by one, they clambered out. Harry couldn't decide which he was more scared of, being caught by aliens or caught by Dr Dredge. Boys had been expelled before now for climbing out of dormitory windows.

‘Quick or we'll lose him!' Joe was already down on the ground and haring off in the direction of the playing field. The others raced after him.

Across the field they ran, out through the gate and down the lane.

‘I can't see him,' panted Ryan.

‘There he goes!'

Joe shot off again, the others in hot pursuit.

Ahead of them, a dim and distant figure in the moonless night, the Snitch strode on, making for the top of the hill.

‘Hang back,' hissed Joe. ‘Don't want him seeing us!'

Slowly, bent almost double, they crept from bush to bush. The sky above was cloudless, filled with a mass of twinkling stars. The Snitch, ahead of them, seemed but a thin black stick in the silver light.

They crouched, and watched, as he reached the summit and dropped down, out of sight, behind the ridge of trees.

‘After him!'

With Joe leading the way, they charged forward.

‘OK!' Joe flapped a hand. ‘Down!'

Obediently, they dropped to the ground. Even Bal, for once, didn't argue. On hands and knees they crawled the last few yards to the top.

There, just for a moment, they hesitated. Which one of them was going to be brave enough to stick his head over the parapet?

Joe! The man of action.

He slithered forward, hugging the grass. The others held their breath.

Centimetre by cautious centimetre, Joe raised his head. His eyes widened. His jaw dropped.

‘What is it?' hissed Ryan.

Joe said nothing; just went on staring. Harry could contain himself no longer. He inched forward next to Joe and peered over. Ryan and Bal scrabbled after him, until they were all four at the ridge, all four peering over.

And now four jaws were dropping, four pairs of eyes pinned wide.

Below the ridge was a shallow dip. In the dip was an object. Large, and metallic. Saucer-shaped. Still wreathed in the remnants of a green mist.

As they watched, an opening appeared in the side of the object. It was not so much a door as a curtain of light.

The Snitch marched boldly up. He was going to go in!

The light dissolved as the Snitch walked through; and for a split second, before he disappeared, they thought they saw fangs. And fur. And a thing like a beak.

And now something else was happening. They could make out a vague shape in the curtain of light. Something was coming out!

This time they did see fangs, and fur, and a thing like a beak. Except that this time it definitely was a beak…

Harry tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry. He felt as if he had a razor blade stuck in his throat. Joe, next to him, seemed to have stopped breathing. Ryan and Bal were frozen like statues.

The thing stood for a moment, as if testing the atmosphere. The great beak slowly opened, revealing a gaping chasm. A tongue, like a whiplash, darted out and back again. The beak, with a loud clack, snapped itself shut. Satisfied, the thing grunted and moved forward through the curtain.

The fur which covered it was thick, and sleek, and gingery brown. What had seemed to be fangs now looked more like tusks on either side of the beak. They rose up, questing and quivering, through the thicket of fur. Eyes like twin Catherine wheels popped and pulsated, spinning in different directions.

The thing came out into the night and with purposeful steps began to stride up the side of the valley, towards the ridge of trees where the four boys were crouched.

Nobody waited for Joe to say ‘Move!'
They were up on their feet and tearing back down the hill as fast as their legs would carry them.

Back in the safety of the dorm, they slammed the window shut, flung themselves on to their beds, and broke into a frenzied babble.

Did you see the beak? Did you see the eyes? Did you see the fur? They all agreed on what they had seen: a fur-covered, bug-eyed monster, with quivering tusks and a beak like that of a giant bird.

Harry said, ‘I s'ppose we're not just dreaming?'

But how could they all have the same dream? And what about the Snitch? The Snitch had gone. They had trailed him up
the hill, they had watched him walk towards the ship, they had seen him disappear through the curtain of light.

He had obviously suspected something. Got wind of the fact that people were on to him. The rumour, after all, had been around for weeks. He must have called the mother ship and told them to come and pick him up before he was rumbled.

That still didn't explain the fur-covered
thing
that had landed in his place. But at least it showed they'd been right about the Snitch.

Harry had just started to say so, trying to sound a little bit triumphant and pretend that fur-covered bug-eyed monsters didn't bother him one little bit, when to everyone's alarm the door was suddenly flung open and the light snapped on. They stared, speechless, at a sticklike figure in polka dot pyjamas.

‘Why,' demanded Mr Snitcher, irritably, ‘am I hearing voices at one o'clock in the morning?'

There was a stunned silence. Not even Joe had an answer to give.

‘Some of us,' snarled Mr Snitcher, ‘are attempting to get some rest. In my state of health, I cannot afford to be deprived of my sleep. It is essential I have my full eight hours. Kindly lie yourselves down and cease this intrusive chitter chatter!'

The light was snapped off, the door closed. There was a long silence; then Harry's voice came quavering into the dark:

‘If it wasn't the Snitch.…'

He didn't finish the sentence; he didn't need to. They were all asking themselves the same question.

If it wasn't the Snitch who had disappeared into the spaceship, then who was it?

* * *

‘Could have been any of ‘em, really,' said Joe, as they crawled, bleary-eyed, out of bed the next morning. ‘I reckon most of ‘em's prob'ly aliens.'