Read Online Johnny and the Bomb by Terry Pratchett - Free Book Online
Authors: Terry Pratchett
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started. Possibly â¦â
âI saw the back of my own head!â whispered Johnny. âMy actual own back of my own head! Without mirrors or anything! No oneâs ever done that since the Spanish Inquisition! How can you be so calm about this?â
âIâm just acting calm,â said Kirsty. âThis is even worse wallpaper, isnât it? Looks like an Indian restaurant.â
She opened the front door, and slammed it again.
âYou know I said that if you started getting too interested in mysterious occult things these men in black cars turn up?â
âYes? Well?â
âLook through the letterbox, will you?â
Johnny levered it open with a finger.
There was a car pulling up outside. It was black. Utterly. Black. Black tyres, black wheels, black headlights. Even the windows were darker than a pair of Mafia sunglasses. Here and there were bits of chrome, but they only made the blackness blacker by comparison.
It stopped. Johnny could just make out the shadow of the driver behind the tinted glass.
ââS ⦠just ⦠coincidence,â he said.
âYour grandad often gets visitors like this, does he?â Kasandra demanded.
âWell â¦â He didnât. Someone came round on Thursday to collect his football pools coupon and that was about it. Grandad was not one for the social whirl.
The car door opened. A man got out. He was wearing a black chauffeurâs uniform. The car door shut. It shut with the kind of final, heavy thonk that only the most expensive car doors can achieve, because they are lined with money.
Johnny let go of the letterbox and jumped back. A few seconds later, someone banged heavily on the door.
âRun!â whispered Kasandra.
âWhere?â
âThe back door? Come on !â
âWe havenât done anything wrong!â
âHow do you know?â
Kasandra opened the back door and hurried down the path and into the garage, dragging Johnny behind her. The trolley was still in the middle of the floor.
âGet ready to open the big doors and donât stop for anything!â
âWhy?â
âOpen the doors now!â
Johnny opened them, because practically anything was better than arguing with Kirsty.
The little garage area was empty, except for someone washing their car.
Johnny was nearly knocked aside as the trolley rattled out, with Kasandra pushing determinedly on the handle. It rattled across the concrete and lurched uncertainly into the alleyway that led to the next road.
âDidnât you see that programme about the flying saucer that crashed and these mysterious men turned up and hushed it all up?â said Kasandra.
âNo!â
âWell, did you even hear about the flying saucer crashing?â
âNo!â
âSee?â
âAll right, but in that case how come there was a TV programme about it, then?â
A car edged around the corner into the road.
âI canât waste time answering silly questions,â said Kasandra. âCome on .â
She shoved the trolley as hard as she could. It rolled down the sloping pavement, the squeaky wheel bouncing and juddering over the slabs.
The car turned the corner very slowly, as though driven by someone who didnât know the area very well.
Johnny caught up with Kir-Kasandra and clung to the handle because the trolley was rocking all over the pavement.
The trolley, under its heavy load, began to pick up speed.
âTry to hold it back!â
â Iâm trying! Are you ?â
Johnny risked a look behind. The car seemed to be catching up.
He jumped onto the trolley.
âWhat are you playing at?â said Kirsty, whowas far too worried to remember any new names now.
âCome on!â
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up on the other side of the cart. Now she was no longer holding the handle, it surged forward.
âDo you think this is really a time machine?â he said, as the
âI saw the back of my own head!â whispered Johnny. âMy actual own back of my own head! Without mirrors or anything! No oneâs ever done that since the Spanish Inquisition! How can you be so calm about this?â
âIâm just acting calm,â said Kirsty. âThis is even worse wallpaper, isnât it? Looks like an Indian restaurant.â
She opened the front door, and slammed it again.
âYou know I said that if you started getting too interested in mysterious occult things these men in black cars turn up?â
âYes? Well?â
âLook through the letterbox, will you?â
Johnny levered it open with a finger.
There was a car pulling up outside. It was black. Utterly. Black. Black tyres, black wheels, black headlights. Even the windows were darker than a pair of Mafia sunglasses. Here and there were bits of chrome, but they only made the blackness blacker by comparison.
It stopped. Johnny could just make out the shadow of the driver behind the tinted glass.
ââS ⦠just ⦠coincidence,â he said.
âYour grandad often gets visitors like this, does he?â Kasandra demanded.
âWell â¦â He didnât. Someone came round on Thursday to collect his football pools coupon and that was about it. Grandad was not one for the social whirl.
The car door opened. A man got out. He was wearing a black chauffeurâs uniform. The car door shut. It shut with the kind of final, heavy thonk that only the most expensive car doors can achieve, because they are lined with money.
Johnny let go of the letterbox and jumped back. A few seconds later, someone banged heavily on the door.
âRun!â whispered Kasandra.
âWhere?â
âThe back door? Come on !â
âWe havenât done anything wrong!â
âHow do you know?â
Kasandra opened the back door and hurried down the path and into the garage, dragging Johnny behind her. The trolley was still in the middle of the floor.
âGet ready to open the big doors and donât stop for anything!â
âWhy?â
âOpen the doors now!â
Johnny opened them, because practically anything was better than arguing with Kirsty.
The little garage area was empty, except for someone washing their car.
Johnny was nearly knocked aside as the trolley rattled out, with Kasandra pushing determinedly on the handle. It rattled across the concrete and lurched uncertainly into the alleyway that led to the next road.
âDidnât you see that programme about the flying saucer that crashed and these mysterious men turned up and hushed it all up?â said Kasandra.
âNo!â
âWell, did you even hear about the flying saucer crashing?â
âNo!â
âSee?â
âAll right, but in that case how come there was a TV programme about it, then?â
A car edged around the corner into the road.
âI canât waste time answering silly questions,â said Kasandra. âCome on .â
She shoved the trolley as hard as she could. It rolled down the sloping pavement, the squeaky wheel bouncing and juddering over the slabs.
The car turned the corner very slowly, as though driven by someone who didnât know the area very well.
Johnny caught up with Kir-Kasandra and clung to the handle because the trolley was rocking all over the pavement.
The trolley, under its heavy load, began to pick up speed.
âTry to hold it back!â
â Iâm trying! Are you ?â
Johnny risked a look behind. The car seemed to be catching up.
He jumped onto the trolley.
âWhat are you playing at?â said Kirsty, whowas far too worried to remember any new names now.
âCome on!â
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up on the other side of the cart. Now she was no longer holding the handle, it surged forward.
âDo you think this is really a time machine?â he said, as the
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