Stone Age Rampage. Chris Blake

Чтение книги онлайн.

      This time, Tom remembered not to say anything back.

      Having a 500-year-old slave girl for a friend could sometimes be a challenge, but Tom didn’t mind. After all, it had been him who’d accidentally released Zuma from her magical imprisonment by banging a drum belonging to the Aztec rain god, Tlaloc. And ever since then, they’d been travelling through time in search of the six gold coins that Tlaloc had scattered through history. Only by finding all six coins could Zuma win back her freedom and return to her own time.

      Tom had become so used to Zuma’s being there that now he barely noticed she was painted blue and wore a large feathered headdress. He had also grown very fond of her Chihuahua dog. Chilli had lots of energy, and for such a small animal he was very brave.

      The car slowed down, and Tom’s dad pulled over at a farm shop to pick up some supplies. When he was gone, Zuma asked, “Why are we heading so far away from home?”

      “It’s called going on holiday,” Tom explained. “It’s something people do when they want to relax and have a good time.”

      “We can have a good time at your house,” Zuma pointed out. “You’ve got that big television thingy and your computer games. And we can play tennis – I’m getting good at that.”

      “This is different,” Tom explained. “It’s called camping. We’re going to spend a few days sleeping outdoors and exploring the woods.”

      Zuma frowned. “Why sleep outside when you’ve got a lovely bed?”

      “Because it’s fun!” replied Tom. “Don’t you like roughing it?”

      “I was a slave,” Zuma reminded him, with a roll of her eyes. “I spent my whole life roughing it – sleeping on hard floors without even a blanket to keep me warm, waking up stiff and freezing cold. I’d much rather relax somewhere comfortable.”

      Dad came back with two shopping bags and put them in the back seat, right on Zuma’s lap. “The campsite’s just around the next bend!” he announced.

      “Brilliant!” cried Tom.

      “Great,” grumbled Zuma.

      Minutes later they were unloading the car and carrying their rucksacks and tents to a clearing beside a crystal blue lake. Chilli scurried around, barking happily, while Zuma sat on a rock, dangling her feet in the water. The shiny black pendant she wore around her neck glinted in the sun.

      Tom and his dad worked together to put up the tents – a large one for Dr Sullivan and a smaller one for Tom. When Dad went back to the car to fetch the sleeping bags, Zuma came and climbed inside Tom’s tent.

      “This looks a bit flimsy,” she said, with a frown. “How’s it going to protect us from the dangers of the forest? What happens if a giant snake tries to slither inside in the middle of the night? Or a ferocious jaguar attacks us?”

      Tom laughed. “There aren’t any ferocious jaguars in England,” he said.

      “Maybe,” said Zuma. “But we can’t be too careful. Let’s go back to your house where it’s warm and comfortable and—”

      At that moment, Chilli came racing into the tent and crashed into Zuma, who fell backwards against one of the tent poles.

      “Watch out!” cried Tom.

      Too late. The pole went flying out of the ground, and the tent collapsed in a heap on top of them.