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Back The Lightning Catcher Save as PDF
Chapters (45)
  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. 12
  13. 13
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 17
  18. 18
  19. 19
  20. 20
  21. 21
  22. 22
  23. 23
  24. 24
  25. 25
  26. 26
  27. 27
  28. 28
  29. 29
  30. 30
  31. 31
  32. 32
  33. 33
  34. 34
  35. 35
  36. 36
  37. 37
  38. 38
  39. 39
  40. 40
  41. 41
  42. 42
  43. 43
  44. 44
  45. Acknowledgements

‘There’ll be rats in the garden soon, and it’ll be your fault. You’re not supposed to dump cooked food in the compost.’

‘Die in a hole,’ she said, and spun into the bathroom, faster than I’ve ever seen her move.

Her words seemed to fly around the room for a second before stinging me in the face. Should have kept my mouth shut. When she’d hugged me after the concert, it felt like the real Lily was back. Now I’d ruined it.

I stood there for a minute listening to the leaves rustling against the landing window and trying to find that magical bubble-feeling I’d floated on out there with Whizzy, but it was gone.

Back in my room, I took one last look at the wasteland from my window in case Whizzy had returned. And that’s when I saw it. A figure stood in the shadow of our beech tree. A figure so tall and elongated, it felt like he could easily reach up and prod a finger against my window. It had to be him. The Cloaked Strider!

And what was that? A black shadow hopped from his shoulder to the branches above him. Flappy. Fast. Some kind of bird? A bat?

He stared up at our house with eyes that glinted like glass.

He must have been watching the whole time.

He’s found us.

15

Netted

I’m back in bed, but feel all shaky. Not going to be able to sleep. Can’t get Lily’s face out of my head – why did I say those things? And the Cloaked Strider. He makes me shiver. What’s he going to do? But everything else is zipping around my brain too. Wait till Sam hears about tonight! We’re a team now that he believes me. We’ll be unbeatable.

1.30 a.m.

Sleep’s not happening. Started copying this journal ready to send Dad these new creature sightings, and that’s when it hit me: DELETE. It felt so wrong. DELETE, DELETE. I’ve been blabbing my mouth off when what I really needed to do was shut up. Sending these journal highlights to Dad was a rubbish idea – this journal is like dynamite. If Dad starts focusing and believes me, he might put a stop to the whole thing. He might even tell somebody, and then everyone in the world will come to Folding Ford, and my amazing creature could get captured again. Going to stop sending. Going to start being really careful about what I say to absolutely everyone. Except Sam.

26th July, 5.00 p.m.

This morning I started wolfing breakfast, but phoned Sam with my gigantic news before I’d even finished my toast – just had to. I sneaked the whole plate back up to my room – with an extra handful of chocolate rice.

I was telling him how Whizzy had stretched out huge, then compressed. ‘I reached out and it seemed kind, it—’