Pony Passion Read Online Free PDF Page A

and you can kind of lead me through?”
    “Seriously?” I couldn’t quite believe it. Fearless Frankie, the feistiest girl in the west, scared of a load of dummies? “They’re not alive, you know. They’re not going to jump out and bite you.”
    Frankie winced. “I’m always thinking they’re about to move. Like walking zombies or something.”
    “You’ve been watching too many scary films,” I laughed.
    “Some people are scared of snakes – or wasps, or mice. I’m scared of these, that’s all,” said Frankie grimly. “Now are you going to help me or aren’t you?”
    “All right, all right, keep your hair on,” I said. Biting my lip to stop myself from grinning,I inched closer to Frankie so she could take hold of my good arm without anyone noticing. Then, as if we didn’t have a care in the world, we strolled into the next room.
    On the way we passed the M&Ms, and I saw Emily nudge Emma and nod in our direction, whispering something behind her hand. I presumed she was just being snide about my arm again. Later, I wished I’d taken more notice.
    I forgot all about the M&Ms as soon as we got into the next room. It was really dark and the air was filled with noise – clangs and crashes. It was supposed to show you what it was like in a Victorian mine, and it was dead realistic.
    “This is awesome!” I said. “Frankie, you’re really missing out!”
    But she wouldn’t look up. “Just – keep – going – will you?” she said through gritted teeth, her nails digging painfully into my arm. I should’ve told her to hold my plaster cast, and I wouldn’t have felt a thing!
    I guess if you were wobbly about waxworks it must’ve been pretty spooky. The room was dim and shadowy, and the waxworks weren’t grouped in one area, behind a rope barrier – they were dotted about all over the place. To get from one side of the room to the other, you had to weave your way amongst them.
    That didn’t bother me. But something else caught my attention. “Look – oh, poor thing!” I said, dragging Frankie to where a waxwork of a woman stood next to a model pit pony. “How cruel to make ponies work in a place like this,” I said, ignoring Frankie’s tugs at my arm. “They must’ve been so scared.”
    If I hadn’t had my mind filled with those poor pit ponies, I might have spotted that something was up. As it was, I was just about to turn round and set off towards the door when Frankie jerked suddenly as if she’d had an electric shock, and let rip the most blood-curdling scream I have ever heard in my life.
    The waxwork next to us, the woman, had moved. Not just moved – it had stuck out an arm and grabbed Frankie. For a second everything she’d said about zombies came flooding back and I was pretty panicked too.
    Frankie hadn’t stopped screaming. It wasn’t one “Eek!” and it was all over – she was shrieking, again and again, and making a dash for the exit, pushing and shoving in her panic to get out. She even managed to knock over one of the waxworks, which toppled against another one, and sent them both head-first into a wagon of coal.
    Everyone else in the room – not sure if The Incredible Hulk was about to burst in, or if one of the waxworks had a bomb under its hat – started jostling around, some people heading for the exit, others back the way they’d come and some people just milling about, asking each other what’d happened.
    Meanwhile, standing right where Frankie had left me, I saw something no one else spotted: aperson emerging from behind the waxwork that’d ‘moved’. Even in the dim light I could see a really slimy smirk spread all over her face.
    “What happened? Where’s Frankie?” said Kenny, suddenly right at my elbow.
    Before I could reply, an announcement came over the tannoy, like at the supermarket. Except instead of, “Supervisor to checkout three, please,” it said, “Cuddington Primary group, go to the exit immediately.”
    “Uh-oh,” said Kenny.