“Get where?” I asked.
“Where they’ve rounded everybody up.”
“Gee,” I said, “remember that crowd of people we saw earlier? Do you suppose—”
“Of course!” Chester replied, cutting me off. “They’ve got them all in their power. Hurry, it’s up to us to save what’s left of Centerville.”
Once again that day, I found myself racing down the street. I must admit that this time I was really worried. A drastic change had come over Toby and Pete. Were they gone forever? I thought, as I hurried behind Chester. No more chocolate snacks at twilight, no more games of catch in the backyard, no more tummy rubs?
“Hey, Harold! Chester! Come here, Howie!” I looked back and saw Toby calling us. “Come on, you guys! Where’re you going?”
I hesitated for a moment. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe if I went to them, they’d be just ol’ Toby and ol’ Pete and everything would be the same.
I whimpered, longing for things to go back to the way they were.
“Don’t turn back, Harold,” Chester cried out. “That’s just what they want you to do. Don’t be a fool! Keep moving! They’ll turn you into a vampire … or a werewolf … or …”
“Ahh-oooooooooo!” Howie yowled, throwing back his head.
Chester shuddered. “Of course, in some cases, we may already be too late,” he said.
“Sorry, Pop,” Howie called out. “I just had to get that off my chest.”
Everything became a blur as we ran faster and faster. Where we were headed I didn’t know. But what we were running from was clear.
“Hey, you guys, come here!” Toby called.
“Here, Harold! Here, Chester! Here, Howie!” Pete chimed in.
Chester is right, I thought. Bunnicula really is a vampire. He really does have minion onions. And now he’s got Toby and Pete, too. Who knows who else in our humble little town has fallen into his clutches? We may be too late to save them all, but we’ll save whomever we can, however we can.
Watch out, Centerville, here we come!
Chapter 7
Curse of the Vampires
ON AND ON WE RAN, racing breathlessly past the post office, the Acme Supermarket, the Starlight Lounge and Bowlarama. In the distance, I made out a throng of people moving toward an iron gate that stood ready to swallow them up into the yard of a long brick building. Castle Bunnicula! I thought, though I must say that even then the building didn’t look too much like a castle anything.
As we drew closer to the milling crowd, Chester cried out, “Mindless zombies! Hypnotized, lost, hopeless. We’ll save them, Harold! We’re almost there, I can feel it!”
I glanced back to see that Toby and Pete and their gang of fiendish hoodlums were still on our tails. Faster, faster I went, dodging honking cars and wobbly bicycles, whose riders called out words of encouragement and support like, “Hey, you stupid dog, watch where you’re going!”
Howie’s little legs scampered by as he shouted, “Aren’t we having fun, Uncle Harold? This is better than eating shoes!”
Chester ran through the crowd and the iron gate. “This way!” he called back to us. “Follow me!
Howie and I bounded through the gate to find ourselves in the midst of a swarm of people milling about, shouting, laughing, carrying on. What a festive air, I thought, for people doomed to a fate worse than death. I thought no further then as I spotted Chester at the far end of the crowd. He was jumping onto a large platform on which stood a youngster who didn’t seem to notice his arrival. Instead, the kid waved his hands in the air and called out above the heads of the crowd, “Here we are! We’re all ready!”
I glanced behind me and saw that he was shouting to Toby and Pete, who were leading the pack fast catching up with us.
“Hurry!” Chester called to us. “Faster! Faster!”
Through the crowd we raced madly, bumping into legs everywhere we went.
“Watch it!” someone cried.
“Who let those animals in here?” shouted another.
“Oops!!”
“Stop them! Catch them!”
“Mad dogs!”
I looked up to see people lunging toward me. A look of fierce determination glinted in several pairs of eyes. Possessed, I thought; out to get us to join their vampire ranks. I jerked out of the way of their advances, shepherding Howie safely through.
A fat man in a bright yellow shirt suddenly blocked our way.
“Here, doggie. Come on, little pup,” he said menacingly.
“Be careful!” Chester warned. “Don’t look him in the eye or it’s all over!”
I darted through the man’s legs. He fell forward, narrowly missing squashing Howie, who fortunately moved to the side just in time. I crashed into a little kid, transplanting the ice cream cone he was eating from his fist to his forehead.
“Mommy!” he screeched.
I jumped up onto the platform, knocking over the kid who’d been calling to Toby and Pete.
“What the—” he cried out in surprise as he picked himself up.
“Uncle Harold! Uncle Harold!” Howie called. I dashed back to the platform’s edge to pick Howie up with my teeth.
“Now what?” I asked Chester, dropping Howie on the platform next to me.
Chester looked around him. “This must be their headquarters,” he confided quietly. Then, taking a big breath, he screamed, “Destroy! Demolish! Charge!”
I barked loudly as I dashed about, tumbling into chairs and tables, scattering a scatter rug, unearthing a plant, sending a cup and saucer flying. Howie tugged at the pants leg of the kid still standing on the platform.
“Cut it out!” the kid yelled, trying to shake Howie off. “What’s with you, anyway?”
Chester jumped from one overturned object to another, emitting unearthly yowls as he went.
In short, we made quite a scene.
And it wasn’t over yet. Just as I thought we’d done about as much damage as we could do, I heard a loud, creaking sound.
“Watch out!” someone in the crowd yelled.
“It’s falling! Move out of the way!”
The kid jerked his pants leg out of Howie’s mouth, and scrambled out of the way and over the edge of the platform.
“Move, Harold!” I heard Toby cry. “It’s going to fall right on your—”
It was then that I glanced up and saw what looked like a wall falling right in my direction. Down it came … right toward me. I had enough time to notice a portrait hanging on the wall. And then, with a crash, the portrait was hanging on me!
Pretty flimsy construction, I thought, as I surveyed the scene and saw that the “wall” was nothing more than cloth stretched over some pieces of wood. No wonder it hadn’t hurt when it had smashed over my head.
I didn’t have time to observe much else as I heard Chester yelling, “Look, over there, it’s Mrs. Monroe. She’s holding a giant white carrot! Undoubtedly the leader of the vampire vegetables. I’ve got to destroy it!”
I watched as he raced through the crowd and leaped into the air just feet away from where Mrs. Monroe was standing. He smashed into the carrot she was holding in her hands. He must have jumped with a lot of force because the carrot seemed to disintegrate before my eyes. It splattered into the air, all over the ground and over Chester, who at the moment was sliding off the plate the stunned Mrs. Monroe still held in her hands.
Just then, Howie tugged at my hair. “Uncle Harold!” he said with great alarm in his voice.
“Yes? Ouch!”
“They’re drowning Mr. Monroe! Look! He must have resisted, and now they’re drowning him!”