Читать книгу The Last Kids on Earth and the Nightmare King - Max Brallier - Страница 10

chapter two

I hear a swirling, deafening thunderclap, followed by the sound of walloping wings and crumbling brick. I throw a glance over my shoulder. The flying terror is rocketing after us.

‘This may not have been an A-plus plan, Rover. Possibly more of a C-minus plan. So . . . FASTER! ’ I cry, and Rover’s paws slam the pavement.

The monster’s wings are beating, air clapping, the sound of the swooping louder and louder. I feel the airborne enemy at my back, and then –

I smack into the street, flipping and flopping like a fish. My nose cracks against my knee, and I immediately feel blood bubbling inside my nostrils. I ignore it, suck air, then scramble to my feet – just in time to see the beast’s massive front talons pierce Rover’s hide.

Rover yelps as –

‘NO!’ I shriek.

The monster zooms low, dragging Rover across the pavement. The sound of pained scraping fills my ears while dread floods my stomach.

Rover suddenly snarls and – SLASH! – strikes with his claws, smacking the Wretch’s talons. Rover is released. He plunges into the pavement – cracking, bouncing, and flipping across the ground.

He rolls to a stop.

He’s on his side.

Not moving.

‘Rover!’ I cry as I speed down the street. My monster-dog has been hauled and tossed, like, fifty feet. ‘Oh no,’ I say, dropping to one knee beside him.

I scratch the thick, soft hair behind Rover’s ears.

The monster’s wings beat and snap. He’s swooping toward me and Rover, returning to finish what he started.

But then I hear voices yelling.

I snap my head around and see my friends –

Quint is a very literal person.

But the beast is not distracted.

The monster’s focus is only on Rover and me. He screams through the sky. His wings smack the ground, and debris whirls as he rockets toward us.

Three hundred feet and closing in.

Two hundred feet and closing in.

One hundred feet and closing in.

The monster’s dragon-like mouth opens, and I see an army of thick fangs. I gulp. But suddenly, the monster’s wings snap to his sides and his legs stab forward.

It feels like an earthquake as his talons slam into the street, claws digging into the asphalt.

I crane my neck to look up at the monster – and I see him, fully and 100 percent clearly for the first time. He is bigger than any Winged Wretch. In fact, it’s more like . . .

-The King Wretch!-

The smell of my own blood in my nose does nothing to lessen the terror. But Rover yowls behind me, and my fear is replaced by furious rage at the big ugly fiend that hurt my friend.

I draw my blade – the Louisville Slicer. It’s basically my post-apocalyptic baseball bat version of a lightsaber.

It is the weapon that felled Blarg, the ancient evil.

It is the weapon that sliced open the great Wormungulous.

It is the weapon that, hopefully, is going to save our butts right now.

I step forward, putting myself between the King Wretch and my injured friend. The monster takes heavy, planet-rocking steps forward until he towers over Rover and me.

My mouth is dry. It takes me a moment to speak – but when I do, I roar –

The King Wretch’s colossal cranium dips and lowers until we’re nearly eye to eye. The monster glances down at Rover and then up to me – staring into my eyes, peering into my pupils.

Something catches in my throat. The back of my neck goes tingly.

And then I feel soda bubbles in my brain . . .