Horror Holiday (4 page)

Maud put her backpack on and went downstairs. On the way out, she popped into the garage and scooped Quentin into the front pocket of her waterproof.

“Sorry this isn’t as comfortable as my blazer,” she said. “But I’ve stuffed the bottom with cotton wool. Hope it helps.”

Quentin burrowed into the cotton wool, looked up and gave a ratty smile.
At least someone likes their holiday accommodation,
thought Maud.

She went outside and waited in the car.

Her parents wheeled their cases down the driveway. Instead of their usual matching raincoats, they were both wearing brand new leather jackets. With their thick, round glasses, they looked like
they belonged to a gang of biker librarians.

“What are you wearing?” asked Maud.

“Oh, these?” her dad said. “I just picked them up in the sales. Pretty cool, huh?” He flipped up the jacket’s collar and winked.

Maud didn’t think they were very cool at all. Even the word ‘cool’ didn’t sound cool when her dad said it.

“You’re not copying Wilf’s parents, are you?” asked Maud.

“Of course not,” said Mr Montague. “Chill out! You’re messing up my vibe.”

Maud buried her face in her hands.

Milly dragged her case into the car and slumped on the back seat. “Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

Her dad checked his mirrors, clicked his fingers and said, “Let’s roll.” He was about to turn his key in the ignition when something that looked like a small
black rubber ball bounced off the back window.

“What was that, dear?” asked Mrs Montague.

Maud looked out. Paprika was lying on the ground with his cape crumpled over his head.

“Just a minute,” she said. “I’ll deal with this.”

She got out quickly, dragged Paprika into the neighbour’s driveway and propped him against the fence while he got his breath back.

“What on earth are you doing?” she hissed. “I told you not to come here in bat form. What if my parents had seen you change?”

“Sorry,” said Paprika. “I’m still trying to get the hang of transforming and landing at the same time. But I came to warn you. Don’t go camping with Wilf and his
family. You’ll be in terrible danger!”

Mr Montague stuck his head out of the window. “Come on, dude!” he called. “We need to burn some rubber.”

“It’s Paprika from my class,” said Maud. “I’m just telling him about our … uh … homework.” She lowered her voice and whispered to Paprika.
“Is this because of the full moon?”

“Sort of,” he said. “But there’s something else. What do you know about Oddington Marshes?”

“Nothing much,’ said Maud. “Wilf says it’s a nice campsite, but the facilities are a little basic.” Paprika shuddered.

“What’s wrong with it?” asked Maud.

“The Beast of Oddington lives there,” said Paprika in a low voice. “You must have heard of it. It’s the most terrifying creature for miles around. Even monsters are
scared of it.”

Maud tried to imagine what sort of beast could frighten vampires, ghosts and zombies.

“I’m sorry,” said Maud. “It’s too late to cancel it now.”

“Please,” said Paprika, reaching out to Maud with his trembling hand. “Don’t go!”

“I’ve got to,” Maud said. She turned her back on Paprika and walked back to the car. She could hardly tell her parents there was a monster without revealing the rest of the
truth about Rotwood.

“Alright, let’s do this,” said Mr Montague, as Maud slammed her door shut. He stuck in a CD called
Wild at Heart – Ultimate Driving Hits
.

“Excuse me,” said Milly. “But I’ve brought my
Pink Pony Princess Party
CD. I think we’d all rather listen to that.”

But it was no use. Both Maud’s parents were already singing along to ‘Born to be Wild’ in fake American accents.

At last they drove off.

In the rear-view mirror, Maud could see Paprika waving. He looked terribly sad. Almost as if he were waving goodbye for the very last time.

M
r Montague stopped the car, and the caravan creaked to a halt behind them. They had come to the end of a narrow country lane with thick hedges on
either side. In front of them was a rusty iron gate. It was buckling outwards, as if something had tried to escape and failed. Beyond, Maud could see a clump of leafless black trees growing from
boggy ground. A crow cawed, somewhere in the distance.

Maud tried to look on the bright side. At least the journey was over. That meant no more ‘Born to be Wild’ and no more stories about pink ponies having parties. Whatever horror lay
beyond those gates, it couldn’t be worse than that.

“This can’t be our campsite,” said Milly. “There’s no spa. There’s no heated pool. I can’t even see any shops.”

“It does look at bit run-down,” said Mrs Montague. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

“I hardly think my Sat Nav would lie to me,” said Mr Montague.

He pressed a button on the black box, and a robotic female voice said, “You have reached your destination. Please watch out for potholes, fallen trees, marshland, swamps, flash flooding,
insect attack …”

Mr Montague switched the machine off quickly.

“Yep,” he said. “We’re in the right place. Could one of you girls get the gate?”

“I’ll do it,” said Maud. She hopped out, squelched across the ground and dragged the rusty bolt aside. The gate creaked open. A muddy track led into dense fog between the
hedges. Maud’s dad drove in, and Maud closed the gate again.

After she’d climbed back into the car, they continued down a track riddled with overgrown roots and fallen branches. A sign nailed to one of the trees read:

“Well, that settles it!” said Mr Montague cheerfully. “We’re in the right place.”

“You have to be joking,” said Milly. “I want to go home right this instant.”

“I think Milly might be right,” said Maud. “It does say to keep out.”

“Don’t be such a square,” said Mr Montague. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

It felt as though they were driving over a never-ending cattle grid. Behind them, the caravan bounced up and down and leaned from side to side, threatening to tip over and take them with it.

“If they don’t even have a proper road,” said Milly, “I’m pretty sure they won’t have a proper pool.”

Maud lifted Quentin out of her pocket so he could look out of the window. Mist was snaking around dead trees and thick clumps of nettles.

“So this is Oddington,” said Maud. “What do you think?”

Quentin’s fur stood on end.

“Yeah, me too,” said Maud.

Suddenly, there was a high-pitched howl from deep in the woods. Milly squealed. Quentin burrowed deep into Maud’s pocket, his back legs kicking up small tufts of cotton wool. Mr Montague
slammed his foot on to the brake. He peered into the fog ahead of them and checked his mirrors.

“I don’t know why anyone would walk their dog in this weather,” he said, driving slowly on.

The mist thinned out as the car spluttered on to smoother ground. They emerged in a clearing of flat, firm earth with a few tree stumps dotted about. It was surrounded by thick
woodland on each side, and sloped down to a deep swamp.

Maud’s dad let out a sigh of relief as Mr Wild’s red truck appeared in front of them. “See?” Mr Montague said. “Nothing to worry about. We’ve
arrived!”

Warren and Wilf were tossing a tennis ball back and forth, catching it in their mouths.