Deep Amber by C.J. Busby Read Free Book Online Page B

heating pipes, then a distinct chirrup.
    He reached out one arm and switched on the bedside lamp. As the room flicked into sight, he found himself staring into the intelligent black eye of what looked like a small red pterodactyl, perched on the end of his bed. It cocked its head and stretched out its wings for a second, and as it did so a second identical creature squawked from the top of the wardrobe.
    Simon felt as if a cold finger was tracing a line down his spine. The creatures in his room couldn’t be real – yet he could smell a faint burning smell coming from them, feel the air move as they beat their wings, hear their rasping croaks. They looked exactly like the creatures from his dream. But how could they be here, in his room? They didn’t even exist .
    They bobbed their heads and shuffled from foot to foot, and then the one on the wardrobe decided to fly down. It crashed into his overhead light, sending it swinging wildly, while the creature ricocheted off and flapped desperately as it slid down the wall to his armchair. Then the other one took off and flew straight into the glass of his window, scrabbling uselessly atit for a few seconds before wheeling around for another attempt.
    Simon, protecting his head as best he could with his arms, tried to open the window before the creature dive-bombed him. It was like the time a pigeon had got into the living room by mistake, but this was worse, because there were two of them, and they were the size of large seagulls. The first one kept throwing itself at the window, while the other was squawking and trying to disentangle itself from the heap of clothes strewn over Simon’s chair.
    Finally, he wrenched the window open, and the first creature flew out with a screech like a hunting owl. It wasn’t long before the other had followed it – both of them, Simon thought, were clearly considerably more intelligent than pigeons. He wasn’t quite sure whether that was a good or bad thing.
    He banged the window shut hurriedly, and sat down on the edge of his bed, breathing hard. The room seemed undamaged, and miraculously, no one seemed to have heard the commotion. Simon looked at his alarm clock. One in the morning. Urgh. And he had school tomorrow.As he sat there in the deepening silence, the whole episode began to seem unreal. Had there actually been pterodactyls in his bedroom? Had he just dreamed the whole thing?
    He shivered, crawled back under his comforting duvet, and turned off the lamp. He’d worry about it in the morning.
    â€œSimon! Simon! ”
    The voice was low and urgent, and insistent. Simon tried to unglue his eyes, but it felt like he was a hundred metres under water and was only slowly swimming up to the surface.
    â€œSimon! Wake up !”
    It was Cat, and she was shaking him, her voice hissing in his ear. He opened his eyes, and saw that it was morning. His sister was kneeling by the side of his bed, looking worried, and suddenly he remembered the creatures from his dream. Had they been real after all? Had they somehow got back in the house?
    â€œWh– wha?” he asked, a bit gummily, as he raised his head. “Wha’sit?”
    Cat put her finger to her lips with a warning look, then leaned closer and spoke in a low voice.
    â€œThere’s someone downstairs. Mum left for work ages ago, but I heard something downstairs, and when I leant over the banisters, I saw someone in a black suit going into the kitchen.”
    Simon immediately felt very wide awake.
    â€œA black suit? Like…”
    â€œYes,” said Cat. “It was one of the radiation people, I’m sure it was. They have a funny way of walking. I think it was the older one. Jones. But I can hear voices, so they must both be down there.”
    Simon sat up and pulled the duvet round his knees. He looked quickly around the room for the wooden box, and then saw it, sitting safely on his bedside table.
    â€œWhere’s the sword?”