“Well, I’m not enjoying this,” Fang said. “These cliff-hangers aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”
Crookshanks ignored this comment, and gulped as the giant spiders advanced, leering menacingly with their numerous glittering eyes. The spiders were all around them now, a wall of arachnids that was closing in in all directions.
“Do you reckon we’ll die?” he asked, looking at the spiders nervously, because there wasn’t much else he could be looking at.
“I hope not,” Trevor replied. “I always hoped that when I die, I’d drown in a giant vat of melted chocolate.”
“That’d be a bit messy,” Fang said.
“Yes, but it would taste nice.”
“Good point.”
They fell silent again. Well, almost. If it hadn’t been for the sounds that the horde of spiders was making as they scuttled closer, it would have been deathly quiet. The creatures in the centre huddled together closer, waiting for the deaths that they knew would come soon.
A thought occurred to Trevor, and hope bloomed in his breast like a blooming flower. “Wait a minute,” Trevor said, prising himself free from Crookshanks, who was hugging him. “Shouldn’t we ask them if they actually are going to eat us? I mean, we don’t really know for sure what they’re planning to do...”
“Good idea,” Crookshanks replied quickly. “Ask them,” he said, and pushed Trevor closer to the spiders.
Trevor gulped. “Erm...hello, spiders!” There was no reply. They just continued making their way toward the creatures in the centre of the circle. “Okay then. Erm...are you going to eat us?”
“Yes!” a spider called out from somewhere in the crowd.
“Why?”
“Because we’re hungry.”
“Oh, right. Well, thanks for telling us,” Trevor replied, heading back to his two companions.
“It’s a pleasure. Any time,” the spider replied.
“They said ‘yes’,” Trevor told his friends.
“I know, we heard.”
“Me too,” Trevor said, as he turned back to the spiders. “So what do we do now?”
“I admit that it’s not the thing I’d most like to be doing,” Fang replied, “but I guess all we can do is wait until we’re eaten.”
“Fun fun fun,” Crookshanks said, and then broke into tears. “I don’t want to die! I’m too young. Don’t....” he stopped, and frowned. “Did anyone else hear that?”
“Hear what?” asked Fang, looking around wildly.
“That,” Crookshanks replied, frowning even more.
“I’d guessed, but what is that?”
“Well, it sounded like a roar, followed by a car horn.”
Trevor gasped, and hid underneath Fang. “It’s a lion!”
“It could be a car,” Crookshanks suggested.
Trevor gave the cat a withering glance. “A car? Come on. It’s hardly likely that there’s someone driving round the Forbidden Forest. Don’t be stupid, Crookshanks.”
Fang shook his head. “He’s not being stupid, Trevor. I’ve heard strange stories about a wild car that roams this forest. A blue Ford Anglia. And it can fly,” he added. “Maybe it’s coming to rescue us!”
“Or maybe it’s come to drive over us, make us roadkill.” Trevor sighed. “First spiders, then a Ford Anglia. My day can’t get much worse.”
Suddenly, there was a loud roaring, and this time, Fang and Trevor both heard it. “I heard that,” they both said at the same time. In front of them, there were loud screams, and spiders were flung up into the air and sent flying into trees. The remaining spiders scattered, running away from the clearing and into each other. Within seconds, the clearing was empty, with just Crookshanks, Fang and Trevor huddled together in the middle. And all the time this was going on, the roaring was getting louder and louder, until...
A light blue Ford Anglia burst into the clearing. It was battered, covered with branches, twigs, leaves, vines, and dents. One of the back doors was gone, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the car, all of the windows were smashed, and only one of the headlights worked.
“So is that the car?” Crookshanks whispered to Fang, as it skidded to a halt in front of them.
“It could be. I’ve never seen it before,” Fang explained. I’ve just heard rumours.”
“Oh.”
The three of them stood there, staring at the car in amazement, until the three remaining doors swung open, revealing the torn and muddied seats inside. “I think it wants us to go in,” Crookshanks said to the others, still whispering. The car bounced up and down, as if nodding.
“Should we?” Trevor asked. “It doesn’t look safe... And anyway, where will it take us?”
“Presumably away from here,” said Fang. “Away from the spiders.”
The three of them looked around the clearing, and sure enough, the spiders were returning, although slower this time. Their eyes were on their prey, but they kept glancing warily at the Ford Anglia that stood there, its engine purring.
“Hmm....Giant spiders or a car?” Trevor asked. “Which do you prefer?”
“The car,” Fang replied, hopping onto the driver’s seat.
“What about you?” Trevor asked, turning to Crookshanks, but the cat had already jumped into the seat next to Fang.
“Come on, Trevor!” Crookshanks called, waving to the toad. “Before the spiders eat you!”
Trevor glanced behind him, saw the horde of spiders making their way through the trees, and then leaped into the Ford Anglia, landing next to Crookshanks on his seat. The doors slammed behind him, the steering wheel spun to the right, and the car took off again, speeding through the trees and over spiders, heading towards some unknown destination that only the car knew of (well, not just the car “ other various forest-dwelling creatures knew where the place was, of course, but I’m just trying to make it seem more mysterious).