Disaster Diaries--Spiders! Read online

  Sam spotted Emmie’s fists clenching.

  “Right!” he said. “Good luck with that.”

  “What have you made?” Phoebe asked. “Something lame, I bet.”

  Sam produced a deodorant can and sprayed it into the air. Phoebe sniffed, then immediately stumbled back, clutching her nose and mouth.

  “Eww! It smells like something died!” she said, grimacing.

  “Exactly,” said Sam. “It’s antizombie deodorant. One spray and you can pass yourself off as one of the living dead!”

  “Why would you want to do that?” asked Phoebe.

  “In case zombies ever come back,” said Sam.

  Phoebe frowned. “Zombies?”

  “Yeah,” said Sam. “Like last time? Remember?”

  Phoebe stared blankly at him.

  “Hundreds of them. Arms dropping off and stuff,” Sam continued.

  Phoebe shook her head.

  “You turned into one,” said Emmie. “And ate an old woman.”

  “Oh, that time,” said Phoebe. “Gotcha.” She turned to Emmie, peering down her nose. “What did you make?”

  Emmie held up what looked like a TV remote. “It’s an alien detector.”

  “Aliens?” said Phoebe. “There’s no such thing.”

  Emmie and Sam exchanged a glance.

  “Yeah, well, if they ever do turn up, an alarm in this thing will go off,” Emmie said.

  Suddenly, the alien detector came to life, and a very loud alarm rang out. So loud, in fact, that half a dozen volcanoes erupted throughout the hall.

  “Shut that thing up!” yelped Mr. Nerdgoober, a science teacher who definitely had a bit of an alien look about him. It was his eyebrows, mostly. And his pointy ears.

  Emmie whacked the device on Phoebe’s table, silencing it instantly. Mr. Nerdgoober nodded curtly and then scurried past.

  Sam and Emmie left Phoebe with her mirror hat and went to see Arty, the third member of their little band of hero-friends. Arty is all about science, so the science fair was right up his alley. If Arty had to choose between science and candy, he’d choose candy. But science would come a very close second—that’s how much he loves it.

  Arty had kept his project a closely guarded secret, so Sam and Emmie were intrigued when they saw the bulky shape hidden under a sheet at his table.

  “Ready for the big reveal?” Arty asked, bouncing from foot to foot with excitement.

  “We’ve been ready for weeks!” said Sam.

  Arty gathered up the sheet and pulled it away with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

  Sam peered closely at the hunk of metal and wires, trying to make sense of it. “Wow!” he said. “It’s … it’s…”

  “Bits of metal junk bolted together?” asked Emmie.

  “It’s not junk!” Arty protested. “It’s CHARLES.”

  At the mention of its name, the pile of definitely-not-junk whirred to life. Wires twitched and metal unfolded, until Sam and Emmie were staring into a pair of LED eyes and a series of lights that looked like a smile.

  “I am CHARLES,” said the robot in a voice so cheerful it made Emmie’s hair stand on end. “It stands for Chore Helper and Really Lovely Electronic Pal!”

  Emmie went over the letters in her head. “Surely that would mean you were called CHARLEP?”

  “I couldn’t exactly call him CHARLEP, could I?” Arty said. “What sort of name’s CHARLEP for a robot?”

  “What does he do?” asked Sam, leaning in to get a closer look.

  “Chores!” Arty said. “All that dull stuff like tidying your room, ironing your clothes, whipping up cream. You’d never have to do any of them again! And he’s gonna win me this science fair!”

  Just then, Mr. Nerdgoober clambered up onstage and tapped the microphone to get everyone’s attention.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. And children. And pets,” he began. “The judges have deliberated, and it’s time to announce the winner of this year’s fair.”

  “This is it.” Arty beamed. “The greatest moment of my life…”

  “With a fantastic entry sure to inspire generations of scientists to come, it’s Miss Phoebe Bowles and her miraculous rotating mirror hat!”

  A squeal went up from behind them, and Phoebe made her way to the podium. A steady smatter of applause filled the hall.

  “Still the greatest moment of your life?” Emmie asked.

  “No,” Arty replied. “This is the worst!”

  * * *

  Charles Character Profile

  1.  LED lights on face can display a range of emotions, from happy to not-quite-so-happy.

  2.  Whisk attachment. For whisking.

  3.  Thermonuclear power core housed in an old soup can.

  4.  Trendy robot sneakers, for the robot that’s really going places.

  5.  Legs like metallic licorice laces.

  6.  Can’t remember, but it looks important.

  7.  Deeply flawed and easily damaged artificial intelligence chip.

  * * *

  Create a Disaster Survival Kit

  What would you put in your own Disaster Survival Kit?

  Maybe, like Arty, a Bristly Brain Basher (aka toilet brush) is all you need to keep enemies at bay?

  Can you invent a more sophisticated form of weaponry using a toilet roll or an empty cookie tin?

  Or do you really just want some sweets and a clean T-shirt?

  Pack your bag for the apocalypse and keep it by the door in case of disaster!

  DISASTER DIARIES

  Zombies!

  Aliens!

  Brainwashed!

  Robots!

  Spiders!

  About the Author

  R. McGeddon is absolutely sure the world is almost certainly going to end very soon. A strange, reclusive fellow—so reclusive, in fact, that no one has ever seen him, not even his mom—he plots his stories using letters cut from old newspapers and types them up on an encrypted typewriter. It’s also believed that he goes by other names, including A. Pocalypse and N. Dov Days, but since no one has ever met him in real life, it’s hard to say for sure. One thing we know is when the apocalypse comes, he’ll be ready! You can sign up for email updates here.

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Excerpt: Disaster Diaries: Robots!

  Disaster Diaries

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Text copyright © 2017 by Hothouse Fiction Ltd. Illustrations copyright © 2017 by J&D Creative (based on an original artwork concept by Jamie Littler).

  Imprint

  A part of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC

  175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

  mackids.com

  All rights reserved.

  Beware the turning of the page.

  Inside the margins spiders lay

  With poison fangs and legs so sticky,

  Getting free proves rather tricky!

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

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[email protected].

  Imprint logo designed by Amanda Spielman

  First hardcover edition 2017

  eBook edition October 2017

  eISBN 9781250135643