Battle for Earth by Keith Mansfield Read Free Book Online Page A

the lock, wiggling it about.
    â€œShould’ve brought the game with us,” said Dave. “We could be here be here for hours.”
    There was a metallic click and Ashvin stood up smiling.
    â€œLet’s see if it was worth the effort,” said Johnny, walking forward and turning the handle. The door opened to reveal a dumping ground for old blankets and coats, plus a bucket, mop and two old brooms. “Definitely,” he added, as Ash and Dave’s faces both fell. “Seen enough, boys?” Johnny asked.
    Dave looked at his watch and said, “I should be getting back anyway. My mum’ll kill me if I’m out too late.” When Ash elbowed him in the ribs, he added, “Sorry … I didn’t mean …”
    â€œDon’t be daft,” said Johnny, laughing as he closed the cupboard door.
    Ash was leading the way through the darkness toward the stairs when he stopped suddenly, causing Dave to bump into him and swear loudly. Ignoring him, Ash asked, “What’s that noise?”
    â€œI can’t hear anything,” said Johnny.
    â€œShhh!” hissed Ashvin.
    As they all quieted, Johnny noticed it too—the whining of some sort of motor. Next moment there was bangingcoming from inside the broom cupboard. He shouted, “Hide!” and the three boys desperately dived for cover. The cupboard door opened and out stepped a huge, hulking shape. It reached upward and pressed something on the wall. Lights flickered on throughout the basement, revealing Johnny, Dave and Ash crouched beside an old bookcase as Mr. Wilkins glowered down at them, tears streaming down his bearded face.
    â€œManager’s office … now,” said the cook.

    Mr. Wilkins rapped hard on the wooden door and a woman’s voice on the other side said, “Enter.” Johnny, Ash and Dave were pushed inside, the big cook following.
    â€œMr. Wilkins,” said Mrs. Irvine in her broad Glaswegian accent. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Wearing a tweed jacket, she was sitting behind a large wooden desk in front of a floor-to-ceiling window that looked across the parking lot to the train station. The desk was flanked either side by tall bookcases containing huge dusty tomes that no one could possibly want to read. Through her large, pointed glasses, the Manager surveyed the three of them standing in front of her.
    â€œIt’s the boy, ma’am,” said the bearded cook. “Found him and his good-for-nothing friends in the basement.”
    The Manager fixed her owl-like eyes on Johnny. He felt about a foot tall and wished the floor would open and swallow him up. “These are friends of yours from school, Jonathan?” she asked, indicating Dave and Ash.
    â€œFrom soccer,” Johnny said, nodding.
    To the other two Mrs. Irvine said, “Ben Halader House is a happy home.” She was the only person who always bothered to use the children’s home’s full name. “We have very few rules, but one is that our little basement should remain out of bounds.You may leave, but remember, these are dangerous times and it bears no profit to be looking for trouble.”
    Ashvin and Dave turned to go, Ash mouthing a silent “sorry” while Dave rolled his eyes to indicate that the Manager was clearly off her rocker. Once the door had closed behind the others, Mrs. Irvine turned to the cook and asked, “Are you all right, Mr. Wilkins?”
    Johnny dared to look up from his trainers. Tear tracks glistened all the way down the big man’s cheeks, disappearing into the bushy black beard.
    â€œI’d been in … in the broom cupboard, ma’am. It was … upsetting.”
    â€œYes, of course,” replied the Manager. “Quite understandable. Perhaps you should leave too and sort yourself out. I’ll deal with Jonathan.”
    Johnny couldn’t see what was understandable at all. The whole thing made no sense whatsoever