Horrid Henry and the Zombie Vampire (6 page)

“Pro—fes—sor! I—need—twenty-five cents—to—move,” said Henry in a robotic voice. “Twenty-five cents. Twenty-five cents. Twenty-five cents.”

“Twenty-five cents?” asked Peter.

“That’s the rules of Robot and Mad Professor,” said Henry, shrugging.

“Okay, Henry,” said Peter, rummaging in his bank. He handed Henry twenty-five cents.

Yes! thought Horrid Henry.

Horrid Henry took a few stiff steps, then slowed down and stopped.

“More,” said robotic Henry. “More. My batteries have run down. More.”

Perfect Peter handed over another twenty-five cents.

Henry lurched around for a few more steps, crashed into the wall and collapsed on the floor.

“I need candy to get up,” said the robot. “Bring me candy. Systems overload. Candy. Candy. Candy.”

Perfect Peter dropped two pieces of candy into Henry’s hand. Henry twitched his foot.

“More,” said the robot. “Lots more.”

Perfect Peter dropped four more pieces of candy. Henry jerked up into a sitting position.

“I will now tell you my top secret—secret—secret—secret—” stuttered Horrid Henry. “Cross—my—palm—with—silver and sweets…” He held out his robot hands. Peter filled them.

Tee-hee.

“I want to be the robot now,” said Peter.

“Okay, robot,” said Henry. “Run upstairs and empty all the wastepaper baskets. Bet you can’t do it in thirty seconds.”

“Yes, I can,” said Peter.

“Nah, you’re too rusty and puny,” said Horrid Henry.

“Am not,” said Peter.

“Then prove it, robot,” said Henry.

“But aren’t you going to give me—” faltered Peter.

“MOVE!” bellowed Henry. “They don’t call me the MAD professor for nothing!!!”

Playing Robot and Mad Professor was a bit less fun than Peter had anticipated. Somehow, his piggy bank was now empty and Henry’s skeleton bank was full. And somehow most of Peter’s Halloween candy was now in Henry’s candy box.

Robot and Mad Professor was the most fun Henry had ever had playing with Peter. Now that he had all Peter’s money and all Peter’s sweets, could he trick Peter into doing all his chores as well?

“Let’s play school,” said Peter. That would be safe. There was no way Henry could trick him playing
that…

“I’ve got a better idea,” said Henry. “Let’s play Slaves and Masters. You’re the slave. I order you to…”

“No,” interrupted Peter. “I don’t want to.” Henry couldn’t make him.

“Okay,” said Henry. “We can play school. You can be the classroom cleaner.”

Oh! Peter loved being classroom cleaner.

“We’re going to play Clean Up the Classroom!
”
said Henry. “The classroom is in here. So, get to work.”

Peter looked around the great mess of toys and dirty clothes and comics and empty wrappers scattered all over Henry’s room.

“I thought we’d start by taking attendance,” said Peter.

“Nah,” said Henry. “That’s the baby way to play school. You have to start by tidying the classroom. You’re the classroom cleaner.”

“What are you?” said Peter.

“The teacher, of course,” said Henry.

“Can I be the teacher next?” said Peter.

“Sure,” said Henry. “We’ll swap after you finish your job.”

Henry lay on his bed and read his comic and stuffed the rest of Peter’s candy into his mouth. Peter tidied.

Ah, this was the life.

“It’s very quiet in here,” said Mom, popping her head around the door. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” said Horrid Henry.

“Why is Peter tidying your room?” said Mom.

“’Cause he’s the classroom cleaner,” said Henry.

Perfect Peter burst into tears. “Henry took all my money and all my candy and made me do all his chores,” he wailed.

“Henry!” shouted Mom. “You horrid boy!”

***

On the bad side, Mom made Henry give Peter back all his money. But on the good side, all his chores were done for the week. And he couldn’t give Peter back his candy because he’d eaten it all.

Victory!

“Isn’t it exciting, Henry?” asked Perfect Peter, packing Bunnykins carefully in his Sammy the Snail overnight bag. “A museum sleepover! With a torch-lit trail! And work sheets! I can’t think of anything more fun.”

“I can,” snarled Horrid Henry. Being trapped in a cave with Clever Clare reciting all the multiplication tables from one to a million. Watching
Cooking Cuties
. Even visiting Nurse Needle for one of her horrible injections. (Well, maybe not
that.
)

But
almost
anything would be better than being stuck overnight in Our Town Museum on a class sleepover. No TV. No computers. No comics. Why oh why did he have to do this? He wanted to sleep in his own comfy bed, not in a sleeping bag on the museum’s cold, hard floor, surrounded by photos of old mayors and a few dusty exhibits.

AAARRRRGGGHH. Wasn’t it bad enough he was bored all day in school without being bored all night too?

Worse, Peter’s diaper baby class was coming too. They’d probably have to be tucked in at seven o’clock, when they’d all start crying for their mamas. Ugghh. And then Miss Battle-Axe snarling at them to finish their work sheets, and Moody Margaret snoring, and Anxious Andrew whimpering that he’d seen a ghost…

Well, no way was he going to that boring old dump without some comics to pass the time. He’d just bought the latest
Screamin’ Demon
with a big article all about vampires and zombies. Yay! He couldn’t wait to read it.

Perfect Peter watched him stuff his Mutant Max bag full of comics.

“Henry, you know we’re not allowed to bring comics to the museum sleepover,” said Perfect Peter.

“Shut up and mind your own business, toad,” said Horrid Henry.

“Mom! Henry just called me a toad!” wailed Peter. “And he told me to shut up.”

“Toady toady toady, toady toady toady,” jeered Henry.

“Henry! Stop being horrid or no museum sleepover for you,” yelled Mom.

Horrid Henry paused. Was it too late to be horrid enough to get banned from the sleepover? Why hadn’t he thought of this before? Why, he could…

“Henry! Peter! We have to leave
now!
”
yelled Dad.

Rats.

The children lined up in the museum’s central hall clutching their sleeping bags as Miss Lovely and Miss Battle-Axe ticked off names on a big register.

“Go away, Susan,” said Moody Margaret. “After what you did at my house I’m going to sit with Gurinder. So there.”

“You’re such a meanie, Margaret,” said Sour Susan.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Susan scowled. Margaret was
always
so mean. If only she could think of a way to pay that old grouch back.

Margaret scowled. Susan was
always
so annoying. If only she could think of a way to pay that old fraidycat back.

Henry scowled. Why did he have to be here? What he’d give for a magic carpet to whisk him straight home to the comfy black chair to watch
Terminator Gladiator.
Could life get any worse?

“Henwy,” came a little voice next to him. “I love you Henwy. I want to give you a big kiss.”

Oh no, thought Horrid Henry. Oh no. It was Lisping Lily, New Nick’s little sister. What was that foul fiend doing here?

“You keep away from me,” said Horrid Henry, pushing and shoving his way through the children to escape her.

“Waaa!” wept Weepy William as Henry stepped on his foot.

“I want my mama,” cried Needy Neil as Henry trampled on his sleeping bag.

“But I want to marry with you, Henwy,” lisped Lily, trying to follow him.

“Henry! Stay still!” barked Miss Battle-Axe, glaring at him with her demon eyes.

“Hello, boys and girls, what an adventure we’re going to have tonight,” said the museum’s guide, Earnest Ella, as she handed out pencils and work sheets.

Henry groaned. Boring! He hated work sheets.

“Did you know that our museum has a famous collection of balls of wool through the ages?” droned Earnest Ella. “And an old railway car? Oh yes, it’s going to be an exciting sleepover night. We’re even going on a torch-lit walk through the corridors.”

Horrid Henry yawned and sneaked a peek at his comic book, which he’d hidden beneath his museum work sheet.

Watch out, demon fans!! To celebrate the release of this season’s big blockbuster monster horror film, THE ZOMBIE VAMPIRES, study this checklist. Make sure there are no zombie vampires lurking in your neighborhood!!!!

Horrid Henry gasped as he read
How to Recognize a Vampire
and
How to Recognize a Zombie.
Big, scary teeth? Big, googly eyes? Looks like the walking dead? Wow, that described Miss Battle-Axe perfectly. All they had to add was a big fat carrot nose and…

A dark shadow loomed over him.

“I’ll take that,” snapped Miss Battle-Axe, yanking the comic out of his hand. “
And
the rest.”

Huh?

He’d been so careful. How had she spotted that comic under his work sheet? And how did she know about the secret stash in his bag? Horrid Henry looked around the hall. Aha! There was Peter, pretending not to look at him. How dare that wormy worm toad tell on him? Just for that…

“Come along, everyone, line up to collect your flashlights for our spooky walk,” said Earnest Ella. “You wouldn’t want to get left behind in the dark, would you?”

There was no time to lose. Horrid Henry slipped over to Peter’s class and joined him in line with Tidy Ted and Goody-Goody Gordon.

“Hello, Peter,” said Henry sweetly.

Peter looked at him nervously. Did Henry suspect
he’d
told on him? Henry didn’t
look
angry.

“Shame my comic got confiscated,” said Henry, “’cause it had a list of how to tell whether anyone you know is a zombie vampire.”

“A zombie vampire?” asked Tidy Ted.

“Yup,” said Henry.

“They’re imaginary,” said Goody-Goody Gordon.

“That’s what they’d
like
you to believe,” said Henry. “But I’ve discovered some.”

“Where?” said Ted.

Horrid Henry looked around dramatically, then dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Two teachers at our school,” hissed Henry.

“Two
teachers?
”
said Peter.

“What?” said Ted.