Wail of the Banshee Read Online Free PDF

rope tugged at me, as though it didn’t want me to Walk any further, but I had to get to Cleo. The sharp-edged leaves surrounded her like the bars of a deadly cage.
    As I got close to the tree, the leaves began to bend and twist in my direction, away from the mummy. “It’s working!” I cried. “Cleo – get the sap!”
    I stood, surrounded by hundreds of sharp, green leaf tips, as Cleo cut a small slit in the bark of the tree and allowed a little of the sap inside to dribble into a glass vial she held in her other hand. “Got it!” she grinned. “Let’s go!”
    We turned, Cleo marching ahead and sticking out her tongue at Luke and Resus where they waited outside the gate. I could see my body standing beside them. All I had to do was Walk through the gate and back inside.
    And then my rope caught on one of the leaves.
    This time, it didn’t just tug and pull me back. The shimmering silver cord slid along the razor-like edge of the leaf and was neatly cut in two.
    I stared at the snipped cord in terror. No! This couldn’t be happening! Grabbing the two ends, I tried frantically to press them back together – but it was no good. They wouldn’t stick.
    I turned and ran back to my waiting body, stopping just inches away from it. Luke, Resus and Cleo watched nervously as I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and stepped forward … only to pass right through my own body and out the other side. It was all over. I was dead!
    Cleo began to cry, the bandages covering her face soaking up the tears. “I-I-” she began, but said no more. Resus simply stared at the ground.
    “I’m so sorry,” said Luke, trying to rest a comforting hand on my shoulder but, of course, it just passed right through.
    “What am I going to do?” I croaked. “My mum and dad will be waking up soon. And my little sister…”
    Suddenly, there was another, louder clap of thunder and a figure we had not seen until now was lit up by the accompanying burst of lightning. A figure in a hooded cowl. Slowly, twisted, gnarled hands emerged from the cloak and pulled back the hood to reveal the gaunt face of an impossibly old woman. Wispy grey hair poked out from pale leathery skin, and her teeth were stained yellow.
    But her eyes were the worst. Two sunken holes that seemed to suck the light in. The old hag licked her cracked lips with a snake-like tongue.
    “Can I help you, dearies?” she asked.
    “It’s our Walker friend,” said Luke, clearly fighting the urge to turn and run. “I’m afraid we had to cut your tree, and the silver rope, or whatever it’s called, got caught on one of the leaves.”
    “We were only trying to help a neighbour,” put in Cleo. “She’s in a lot of pain, you see…”
    No one spoke for a moment. Then thunder exploded above us, breaking the silence. The old woman reached into her cowl and produced two miniature scythes. Their tiny blades caught the sudden glare of the lightning.
    “Oh no,” breathed Resus. “This is it! She’s going to kill us!”
    “Kill you, dearie?” wheezed The Gran Reaper. “Why on earth would I want to do that?” Then she bent down, plucked up the two severed ends of my silver rope, and began to knit them back together with the scythes.
    “This can be a tricky job, if you don’t know what you’re doing,” she told us as she worked. “My Nigel was always asking me to repair these things when he first started out. Often went to the wrong address, or got one person mixed up with another in the early days.”
    “Nigel?” Luke asked, recovering himself.
    “Nigel Death,” smiled the old woman. “My grandson. He’s a busy man. Doesn’t have time to visit very often but, when he does, I always bake him a batch of his favourite cookies.” She smiled at us through her few remaining teeth. “You youngsters should come round one day and taste them.”
    “We will,” said Cleo with a wan smile. “Thank you – and sorry about hurting your tree.”
    “Oh, don’t you worry!” said