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Chapter 31

We’d been walking back to the car when I suddenly heard a loud and piercing scream, followed by a terrifying roar!

We all halted in our tracks, and looked in the direction the sounds were coming from.

“The werewolf!” Dooley said. “It came back!”

“Werewolves don’t exist,” Dooley, said Odelia, but her words lacked conviction.

We were close to the car, and could have easily made the run to safety, but instead, Odelia hesitated. It’s the curse of the reporter: they do put themselves in the most terrible situations, simply to satisfy that insatiable curiosity.

“Werewolves don’t exist,” she repeated, more to herself than to us. “Which means that’s not a werewolf but some other beast, or maybe even a man. Which means…” She fingered her camera longingly.

“No, Odelia,” I told her. “No way. That’s clearly some wild and extremely dangerous animal, and we should run away from danger, not towards it.”

“If I could only snap a picture of this creature…” she began.

“No, Odelia!” we all yelled in chorus.

“But just think, you guys! Tomorrow’s front page, featuring a picture of the beast.”

“Featuring our obituaries, you mean,” Brutus murmured.

“No,” I said, making my meaning perfectly clear. “And no means no.”

And then, of course, the beast suddenly came crashing through the undergrowth and we stood face to face with it.

It was huge, as Victor Ball had indicated, and hairy and horrifying. It had long fangs that were dripping with saliva, catching the light of the full moon, and its eyes were red and menacing. Its claws were also dripping, and I realized they were probably dripping with blood! The monster had already made one victim, and now it was about to add us to the list, mere notches on its sizable belt—if werewolves wear belts, of course.

But what did Odelia do? Instead of turning and running away, she took out her camera and started snapping shots of the vile and hideous creature!

It’s the same way with war reporters. The moment a bomb goes off, do they run and hide? No, they start taking pictures.

“Odelia!” I cried. “Run!”

Harriet and Brutus and Dooley hadn’t waited for my instructions. They were already running full tilt in the direction of the car.

“Look at the thing, Max,” said Odelia, sounding excited rather than scared. “It’s so big and scary!”

The beast suddenly roared, showing its fangs and pawing the air with its claws of steel.

And then it was charging towards us!

“Odelia, run!” I tried again.

And this time she must have understood my advice was sound, and joined me in beating a hasty retreat. But even then she found the time to turn around and snap a couple more pictures of the monstrous apparition.

And the weird thing was: the monster seemed eager to pose.

An attention-seeking werewolf. Probably a sign of these social-media-infested times.

We made it to the car, and immediately got in. But before Odelia managed to start her up, the monster was already upon us. It pounced on the car and slammed the hood with its fists, roaring fiercely, and spitting saliva at the windshield like some demon car wash.

“Get us out of here!” Harriet cried frantically.

“It’s going to eat us alive!” was Brutus’s contribution.

“I don’t like this, Max!” were Dooley’s two cents.

And me? I just sat there, too stunned for speech.

The monster was crawling on top of the car now, and pouncing on the roof in a clear attempt to punch a hole and drag us out so it could devour us whole.

But then Odelia finally managed to get the engine to turn over, shoved her foot down on the accelerator, and then we were out of there!

There was a thunk and a surprised grunt, and when we looked back we saw the monster lying on the road. As we drove off, it got up and shook its fists at us, raised its formidable fanged maw to the full moon, and roared again—a terrifying sound.

“Victor Ball was right!” Harriet said. “The werewolf exists!”

“And tomorrow morning all of Hampton Cove is going to read my exclusive report and see my exclusive pictures!” said Odelia jubilantly.

She didn’t seem to mind one bit we’d almost been mangled to death!

We arrived back at the house and walked in, still trembling from the adrenaline. Harriet immediately made a beeline for her litter box, and as I did the same, I suddenly heard three cries of terror. I immediately walked out of my litter box again, and shot into the backyard, through the hedge and into Marge and Tex’s house.

The werewolf!

It had followed us home!

But when I arrived there, I saw that Harriet was shaking, but not with fear and anguish but sheer indignation.

“She did it again! Fifi used my litter box again!”

“She used mine, too!” said Brutus, shaking an irate paw.

“And mine as well,” said Dooley sadly.

Marge, Tex and Gran suddenly materialized into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” asked Marge, flicking on the light.

Odelia, who’d run in from next door, along with Chase, now also stood in the kitchen, staring down at four cats, three of which were looking extremely unhappy.