Читать книгу The Last Kids on Earth and the Cosmic Beyond - Max Brallier - Страница 13

That night, the strange human villain haunts my dreams, like the baddie in an ’80s horror movie . . .

I wake up shivering. Partly from the cold – because yeah, IT IS FREEZING. My winter sleeping outfit is someone’s weird old Halloween CHEWBACCA COSTUME. And Quint’s makeshift heater – a bunch of PlayStations and Xboxes piled on top of one another – is not working.

But mostly, it’s a shiver of fear.

That was a human villain. A human villain using MY WEAPON as part of a bad-dude plan. We need to find that human and retrieve my Louisville Slicer. And soon! Because if this monster-riding human decides to attack, I’m afraid we’re unprepared . . .

See, our monster town is now a ghost town. The monsters are huddled up inside stores and shops inside Wakefield Town Square, too terrified of the snow to come out.

This must be fixed.

I brew some hot chocolate, and the smell soon has my buddies waking. ‘Guys,’ I say. ‘This villain lady knows stuff about Ŗeżżőcħ. So, if a fight goes down – and fights DO KIND OF ALWAYS GO DOWN AROUND HERE – then we need our monster buddies ready to rumble alongside us. And they are not ready to rumble.’

Moments later, we’re outside having a –

LIGHT-HEARTED, JUST-HORSING-AROUND, BUDDY SNOWBALL BATTLE!

‘Isn’t winter the best?!’ I shout as I hurl a snowball.

‘Such a delight!’ June says.

Monsters start watching. Some are huddled up in blankets, peering through frosty windows. I think I even see one watching through a mailbox slot. I grin.

‘Guys, play up the fun!’ I whisper. ‘Everyone loves a good friendly snowball fight!’

That’s when Quint appears on the deck of the tree house with an armful of snowball artillery. Our old-fashioned snowball battle turns awesomely post-apocalyptic and gadgetfied.

Dirk wields our old Tennis Blaster 2000 – which is now the Mobile Snow Sphere Slinger – and things intense . . .

We’re all giggling and laughing and freezing.

And it’s working. A monster comes shambling out and joins the fun!

Unfortunately, that monster is Biggun. He scoops up a Biggun-sized snowball and –

FROSTY BIGGUN BLAST!

And that’s the end of that. The Biggun Blast freezes us to the core. We spend the rest of the day in the tree house, huddled up near the video game systems, trying to get warm.

And the monsters are now extra freaked out. They’ve become afraid of snow in both flake form and ball form.

When we’ve finally finished thawing out, Dirk makes a suggestion: ice fishing.

‘Fish for ice?’ I ask. ‘Why would we fish for ice? Ice is everywhere! The whole world is basically a Super Mario snow level.’

‘No, dork,’ Dirk says. ‘You fish for fish through a hole in the ice. It’s my favourite part about winter. C’mon. I know a spot.’

We convince Skaelka and a few other monsters to join us. They agree – but only after I promise they’ll get to eat GIANT HUNKS OF RAW FISH.

We’re walking along a wooded trail, freezing our butts off, when I hear movement in the trees.

‘Whoa, look!’ Junes says. ‘Two little critters just went tumbling past!’

Skaelka halts. A strange snarl sound escapes her nostrils and her hands tighten around her axe. She suddenly means business.

‘What’s the alone one?’ June asks.

‘One not in the community,’ Skaelka says. ‘One that does not matter.’

And the way Skaelka says it – it’s clear the conversation is over. Skaelka is no big fan of the alone one.

At the lake, I learn something that’s a bummer: ice fishing is the most boring thing on earth. You drill a hole in the ice and you just sit there! That’s literally it! THE WHOLE THING! You can’t even talk because apparently that ‘scares away the fish.’

After the fifth hour of cold nothingness, I say, ‘If monsters don’t get me first, I will die of boredom.’

‘Hey! No talking!’ Dirk says. ‘Listen to nature. Hear the peace and quiet and –’

ICE TENTACLE BURST!

So . . . fishing was a big fat icy fail. The only thing we caught was a cold. And there’s no way Quint with a runny nose is going to get any creature excited about winter.

I’m sitting in the tree house, bemoaning all this, when Quint says, ‘SNOWMEN!’

‘Snow creatures!’ June declares.

I keep my mouth shut – but I have thoughts on snowmen. One word: OVERRATED. It’s one of those things that sounds awesome but is never as good as you think it’s going to be. I always start off excited about building some massive amazing snowman, but then a few hours later –

But, we actually do pretty good! Dirk is, like, a master snow craftsman. He even gets out a tool kit and carves a totally beautiful ice sculpture. Dude is full of hidden talents.

It’s going well – until the monsters get a load of our constructions – and then it goes bad . . .

"What about ice skating?” June asks. "Ice skating is fun. And before you give me grief – I’m not talking regular ice skating. I’m talking end-of-the-world-ice-skating. Down the old highway that runs to the beach and boardwalk!”

Dirk’s in, because he’s a hockey master. June’s in, because she’s generally athletic, nimble, and above-average at everything. Quint’s in because he doesn’t like being left out of things.

It goes awry – of course.

It goes awry because this massive hibernating horror wakes up and goes nuts . . .

I’m beat; totally out of ideas for turning our monster friends into winter-lovers. And even worse, we’re no closer to figuring out what the deal is with the Villainess and what she did with my Louisville Slicer! She could be – I dunno – slow dancing with it right now!

Argh.

I need a long winter nap. So I head to our hammock, but when I get there, I see that June’s beat me to it. And she looks even more bummed out than I feel.

Oh, real quick – our hammock is not a regular hammock. It’s a monster winter hammock and it’s kind of the best.

See, after the temperature dropped we discovered that one monster – Kylnn – constantly radiates heat. His whole body feels like some sort of living fireplace!

So I, being a napping expert, grabbed a hammock from the local Home Depot and strung it up. I suspended it from Kylnn’s biggest back spikes. I’m pretty sure I have created the single most snuggly sleeping spot on planet Earth.

I sit down next to June. We lie there for a bit, just quietly looking up at a cloudy blue sky.

‘You OK, buddy?’ I finally ask.

June shrugs and pushes off from a spike, swinging us out. ‘It’s just all this winter stuff. It reminds me of – y’know – Christmas. It’s got me thinking about last year’s Christmas. Normal Christmas.’

June shoots me a look. Oh right. I forgot. She doesn’t love the ‘monster-zombie-crossbow-filled adventure-scape’ the same way I do.

June continues. ‘When we were getting ready to set out on our road trip for New York, I had this idea. I’m sure it was just a total pipe dream of a hope – but I thought we might get to New York. And find my family. And in time for Christmas. Then I could celebrate Christmas, for real. But I guess not . . .’

I’m not sure what to say. See, I was an orphan, never had a real family. When the world went to the monsters, my foster family of the month fled. Here, with my buddies and our monster community, I finally feel like I do have a family. But for my human friends – it’s the opposite.

Sometimes I forget that the gung-ho happiness that comes so easy to me is way harder for everyone else. And I can’t keep forgetting that.

It’s not right.

It’s not being a good friend.

And being a post-apocalyptic monster-battling tornado of wannabe cool – that stuff’s great, that stuff’s important. But it’s not even a fraction as important as being a solid buddy. And that’s what June needs right now.

Then it hits me. Two birds, one stone!

I sit up and grab June by the shoulders. ‘June, I can’t give you that classic family Christmas – but together we CAN have our own totally original joy-missile of a Christmas with just our best buddies in the world! We can make up our own new traditions! Like Christmas fireworks – aren’t those the best?’

‘Christmas fireworks aren’t a thing, Jack.’

‘THEY ARE NOW!’ I say. ‘Also, Christmas pie-eating contests! June, this is actually amazing. We have the chance to design our own awesome Christmas. Just as crazy, weird, and whatever as we want!’

June shifts in the hammock. She blows into her hands, thinking. ‘And you know what – since Christmas is the best . . .’

I smile and nod. ‘If there’s one thing that can convince the monsters that winter is A-OK, it’s Christmas!’

‘Boom,’ June says. ‘Seal it with a fist bump.’

We walk back to the tree house. At the ladder, June suddenly stops. She looks deep into my eyes. I’m wondering if this might be sort of a romantic moment or something, but instead . . .

‘You’ve got your Louisville Slicer, and you love it!’ June says. ‘I want to feel that sort of love for a monster-battling weapon.’

It’s true.

My love for the Louisville Slicer is a once-in-a-lifetime love. I could write a song about it.

June deserves that sort of love!

That will be my Christmas gift to her. One post-apocalyptic monster-battling tool TO RULE THEM ALL!

And you know what else?

I have lost my love.

No. Worse. My love was stolen from me! It has fallen into the hands of an enemy! And that enemy is up to something.

I’m not just waiting around. I need to go and get it. I need to find out WHO this villain is. Because only then will I get what I want for Christmas . . .