The Hunted by Kristy Berridge Page A

tomato sauce were stirring in the air. My nostrils practically closed themselves in revolt.
    Lucas was sprawled over an armchair watching cartoons on Nickelodeon. Not really a shocker there. It was either the TV or the computer that generally consumed his spare time, but ever since he’d been whipped by a twelve year old at online Tetris, he’d been burying himself in Sponge Bob Square Pants instead.
    George was sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper, and from Susan’s absence from the immediate area and the god awful stench, she was probably in the kitchen.
    I dropped my backpack onto the floor next to the bureau and then wandered over to Lucas and plonked myself down in his lap. I usually didn’t pester him this way, but I was in a funny mood, and annoying Lucas suddenly felt like the best idea in the world.
    ‘E!’ he whined, as I wiggled around annoyingly in his lap.
    ‘What?’ I said innocently, holding back my laughter.
    ‘I’m watching TV. Get off me. You do this every time I’m trying to watch something important.’
    I glanced at the screen and saw the terribly important Pokémon characters engaging in a battle. ‘I do not,’ I said, finally answering him and pushed even harder against his stomach.
    ‘Yes you do. Now get off me before I wet myself.’ He shoved me hard, sending me sprawling onto the floor.
    I laughed. ‘I only have minutes left to live and I want to make the most of the time I have left by annoying you.’
    He snorted. ‘Mum’s cooking isn’t that bad.’
    I threw him a look of disbelief, while George cleared his throat at the table and tossed both of us a sideways glance. It was layered thick with warning promise of retribution should we follow this conversation to its end.
    Susan wandered into the dining room. ‘Dinner’s ready!’ she said, cheerfully placing a large mounded plate in the centre.
    Lucas and I stood up and wandered over to the table. It was clearly a mistake, looking down at the brown, fudgy looking goo sitting on top of a mound of what looked to be something like mashed potatoes. ‘What is it?’ I asked.
    ‘Spaghetti,’ Susan said, smiling happily and pointing at her bizarre creation. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ I choked back a laugh and George shot me another warning.
    Lucas grunted and sat down. ‘Only a blind man would think that was spaghetti,’ Lucas said loud enough for only me to hear.
    I bit my tongue.
    George cleared his throat and surveyed the wreck of a meal in front of him, folding the newspaper up and placing it on the table beside him. ‘Looks lovely, sweetheart,’ he said, smiling politely at Susan.
    What a brown noser.
    She smiled broadly and then headed back into the kitchen to grab us some plates.
    ‘I hope our medical insurance is up to date,’ Lucas said, sniffing at the strange looking concoction of food. His nose wrinkled and he pulled back immediately.
    ‘And why is that?’ George said, eyeing him warily.
    ‘Because if I’m going to get food poisoning tonight, I want to make sure I get one of the good rooms at the hospital, the ones with a TV and a decent view.’
    I snorted, biting back the laugh that was bubbling in the back of my throat. George leant across the table and slapped us both upside the head.
    Lucas and George had both been admitted to the hospital twice with severe food poisoning. At least I could self-heal from whatever bout of sickness was heading my way. I couldn’t say the same for the rest of them.
     
    *          *          *
     
    Dinner was a mighty quick affair.
    Lucas, George, and I chugged down the food with brutal efficiency. At least that way, we didn’t taste it much on the way down.
    Susan, of course, had taken that as a sign of appreciation which probably meant we’d get served her version of ‘spaghetti’ sometime again in the near future.
    After dinner and a quick shower, I bid goodnight to everyone and then headed upstairs to bide my time until Kayla came to get me