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  Diary of a Super Spy:

  Book One

  Peter Patrick

  William Thomas

  What happens on the mission, stays on the mission…

  Diary of a Super Spy (Book 1)

  Peter Patrick, William Thomas

  Copyright © 2016

  2nd edition

  First Published 2014. This edition published 2016

  Published by Run Happy Publishing. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Also in the Diary of a Super Spy series:

  Diary of a Super Spy: Attack of the Ninjas!

  Diary of a Super Spy: A Giant Problem!

  Diary of a Super Spy: Space!

  Diary of a Super Spy: Evil Attack!

  Diary of a Super Spy: Daylight Robbery!

  Diary of a Super Spy

  Peter Patrick

  William Thomas

  Chapter 1

  Tuesday Morning:

  Zombies in the Classroom

  Oh, come on!

  Not another substitute teacher?

  Miss Jackson was away all last week, and now we have another substitute teacher. Hopefully, this one is better than the last one. Mr. Greyson, last week’s teacher, had to go to the hospital because in gym class, Jack the Jock kicked a soccer ball in his… well, he kicked it into an area of the body that hurts a lot.

  My name is Charlie Chucky, and I am in the sixth grade. I am the son of an International Super Spy who works for an agency so secret that even my Dad doesn’t know the name of it.

  My Super Spy Dad has had dinner with the President, talked with aliens from Jupiter, and swapped phone numbers with a very intelligent gorilla. His life is super exciting.

  My life is not that exciting. I go to school, dream about talking to the prettiest girl in the school, Mia, and come home again. I’m not popular – far from it – but I have my best friend, Harley, who I spend a lot of time with.

  This is me.

  And this is my friend, Harley.

  As you can see, we are not the coolest kids in school.

  “Hi, Charlie. Today is going to be a great day,” Harley whispers to me as I take a seat in class. “Tuesday’s are always great, but today is going to be extra great.”

  “Why do you say that?” I ask.

  “Miss Jackson is away again today, and we’ve got another substitute teacher. How cool is that? We can do whatever we want today! Plus, we don’t have to put up with Miss Jackson’s sneezing.”

  Miss Jackson has the loudest sneeze in the world.

  Last week when she had the flu, she was sneezing every three minutes. Her sneeze was so loud that everybody in the class had to wear ear plugs. One time she sneezed, and the ground shook so much that trees started falling over and birds fell out of the sky. It was totally crazy.

  “I love substitute teachers Harley, but this new substitute teacher doesn’t look very smart. She doesn’t even look like she can teach a class,” I comment on our new teacher. “Have we had her before?”

  “Nope. I think she’s a real newbie. I haven’t even seen her around the school before. I’m not even sure that she has taught children previously.”

  “Really?” I question.

  “Yep. When I walked into the classroom this morning, she asked what do we do all day. She had no idea what we do in class. And when I told her, she looked really confused and had to write lots and lots of notes. She really had no idea what we do all day.”

  Harley is a good kid. He is always the first to arrive in class and the last one to leave. He knows all the teachers and is always helping them in his lunch break.

  “And what did you tell her?”

  “I told her that we do math first, then spelling, then history and then more math, if we have time. I told her that we love lots and lots of work because it helps us succeed in our tests.”

  “Oh no,” I say to Harley. “You should have told her that we play computer games first, then computer games, and then more computer games!”

  I like computer games.

  “Oh yeah,” Harley says. “That’s a really good idea, Charlie. I’ll try that tomorrow. But I’ll tell her that we do math first, and then computer games.”

  “Aw, man,” I shake my head. “Did your Dad come home from his science trip yesterday?”

  “He came back last night, but he smelt like poo. I could smell him as he walked up the street. It was so bad that even the dog wouldn’t go near him.”

  “Yuk!”

  Harley’s Dad is one of the world’s best scientists. At the moment, he is studying if the poo of an African Mountain Gorilla can help your skin become stronger. He thinks the more African Mountain Gorilla poo you rub on your skin, the healthier it becomes! He thinks that his skin will become so strong that he won’t have to worry about wearing clothes in future.

  Scientists study the weirdest stuff.

  “What about your Dad? Did he come back last night?” Harley asks me.

  “Yep. He came back from fighting a water monster in the Amazon rainforest,” I explain to Harley. Harley is the only other kid that knows my Dad is an International Super Spy. “The monster tried to eat all the trees in the Amazon rainforest, so my Dad had to stop him. He traveled over to Brazil, walked for three days through the ultra-thick jungle, and then came face to face with a twelve-foot water monster.”

  “Wow! How did he stop him?”

  “He just asked him to stop eating all the trees.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Dad said ‘Excuse me, Mr. Water Monster, can you please stop eating all the trees in the Amazon rainforest?’, and the monster said, ‘Sure. No problem.’ And then he walked away!”

  “Whoa. That sounds totally easy. Even I could do that. Being a Super Spy must be so cool.”

  “I’ll be a Super Spy one day, Harley,” I say. “I can take you on my adventures with me.”

  “You? A Super Spy?” Harley laughs. “How could you be a Super Spy? You struggle to tie up your shoelaces each morning!”

  That’s true. It’s not that I can’t tie up my shoelaces, but I get distracted each time I try. Yesterday, I tied up my shoelaces while watching television, but I tied them to the couch. I didn’t walk very far before falling flat on my face.

  “Quiet!” the new substitute teacher yells from the front of the classroom. “I need everyone to listen to me. I am going to teach you about… um… things… and… um… stuff. So listen to me! I am the teacher, and I don’t want anyone else to talk for the rest of the day. Understand?”

  Harley and I raise our eyebrows at each other. This is going to be a fun day.

  The whole class waits for the teacher to continue, but she doesn’t say anything else. She just stares at us for the next five minutes while licking her lips.

  That’s really strange.

  “Excuse me, Miss?” I eventually say. “Can we please play some games?”

  “Hmmm…” the substitute teacher says as she stares at me. “Yes, of course. We can play games for yummy children.”

  “Yummy?” I ask.

  “Oh no,” she says. “I didn’t mean yummy… I meant… um… yellow.”

  “Yellow? That doesn’t even make sense,” I whisper.

  There is something strange about our substitute
teacher, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.

  Maybe it’s her hair?

  “But let me introduce myself first,” she finally states in a croaky voice. “My name is Miss Zomb. Pleased to eat… er, meet you.”

  For some reason, she has crossed out the last two letters of her name on the blackboard, and she smells funny too.

  I might not be the smartest kid in class, but I am already suspicious of this lady…

  Chapter 2

  Tuesday Afternoon

  Hanging with my Super Spy Dad

  Ka-zap!

  My Super Spy Dad fires a shot of his newest piece of work equipment – a super small, super powerful, laser gun.

  One of the bonuses of having a Super Spy Dad is that he brings home all the latest equipment from the Super Spy agency, and I get to try all the new gadgets. At the Super Spy agency, they have the world’s best gadget scientist developing the world’s best inventions.

  Just last week, I tried his new time machine.

  It didn’t work very well, so we were stuck going back five seconds at a time. It was a bit silly really – as soon as we went back in time, we saw ourselves going into the time machine.

  So we tried again – and then we saw ourselves watching ourselves going into the time machine. So we tried again – and then we saw ourselves watching ourselves watching ourselves going into the time machine.

  “This is a mega-powerful, ultra-strong gun, Charlie. It can never fall into the hands of the wrong person, or things will be terrible. This gun is so strong that it will even freeze the scariest of scary bad guys,” Dad smiles. “There is not a person in the world that can resist the powers of this gun. It freezes anything that you shoot into a ball of ice.”

  “Whoa. That’s totally cool, Dad. I love it. What are you going to use it for?”

  “I will use it on anything that won’t co-operate with me. Or maybe I’ll just use it on a hot day to freeze the house. That way, we won’t have to use the air-conditioner.”

  “Good idea, Dad,” I say. “But that gun looks very familiar. Actually, it looks a lot like your last gun. Do you remember that gun?”

  “Um… yes. I remember that gun Charlie, but I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t mention that gun again.”

  “Oops. Sorry, Dad. I forgot. I won’t say anything else about it.”

  When Dad brought home his last new gun, he accidentally shot a hole in our floor.

  The problem was that it was the most powerful gun ever built.

  That hole went straight through the floor and all the way to the other side of the world. We could even wave to the people on the other side of the hole.

  We spent months filling that back in. And Mom was so unhappy with Dad that we agreed we wouldn’t speak about it again.

  “What case are you working on now, Dad?” I change the conversation.

  “We’re working on a big case right now, son. It’s extremely dangerous and very creepy. This case is like a horror movie, but it’s real life. It is one of the most intense cases I have ever worked on, and it even scares me a little. And you know how hard it is to scare me.”

  “Except for when you are watching children’s movies.”

  “And we weren’t going to talk about that either,” Dad says, shaking his head.

  My Dad is the worst person in the world to watch a movie with. Even films made for babies scare him. And he cries at the end of every movie!

  It is so embarrassing.

  “What is the case about, Dad?” I ask, very interested. “Is there anything that I can do to help you with it? I would love to help you with the case.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you help with this case, Charlie. It is too dangerous for someone like you. We have our best spies working on the case right now and they are trying to stop this threat. We have even bought in the German, Australian, and Japanese Super Spies to help us solve this case.”

  “So what is so scary that I can’t help you with?”

  “I’ll tell you, Charlie, but you have to promise to keep this very quiet.”

  “I promise.”

  “Ok. We have information that there are zombies trying to attack our great country!”

  “Zombies?!”

  “Yes, son, zombies. But not just any sort of dumb zombies. Nope. This is a new breed of zombies that talk, walk, and think. We don’t know where they have come from, but they are scarier than anything you could ever imagine. If you think about the scariest thing that you can, double that, and then double that again. That is what we are talking about.”

  “Whoa, that’s totally scary, Dad.”

  “And these new zombies aren’t like the last lot of zombies that tried to attack our nation. Those zombies were slow, stupid, and dumb. We didn’t need our best spies because they were very easy to defeat. When the zombies attacked last year, all they wanted to attack was the fast food store.”

  “Why did they attack a fast food store?”

  “Because they were hungry. When we got there, we found that all they wanted was hamburgers. They didn’t want to hurt anyone, they just wanted five hamburgers each. So we offered them all the hamburgers they could eat, as long as they stayed locked up in our prison. They agreed.”

  “Being a Super Spy sounds pretty easy sometimes, Dad.”

  “Sometimes it is easy, Charlie. But not this time. No way. This new breed of zombies is going to be very hard to defeat. We have our very best zombie experts trying to build a profile of the zombies so that we can predict their movements. If we know where they are going, then we can stop them. But it is really hard because they are so different to the ones that attacked last year. The new zombies don’t want to eat hamburgers.”

  “What do they want to eat?”

  “We’re not sure yet. We are trying to work that out. Our zombie locator machine is tracking them at the moment, and as soon as we can find them, we will capture them. But they are not dumb. They are smart zombies, and that is what makes them so dangerous.”

  “Is there anything else different about these zombies?”

  “They are bigger, quicker, and smarter. And they smell really bad. And they’re very good at disguises too.”

  “What sort of disguises?” I ask.

  I instantly think of my new substitute teacher.

  “This breed of zombies has been known to dress up as things you wouldn’t expect zombies to dress up as. We’ve heard that they have dressed up as bus drivers, trees, and even crocodiles. They are very, very sneaky.”

  “Crocodiles? That’s crazy.”

  “Charlie, if the zombies attack, I want you to hide. Do you know where the best place to hide from a zombie is?” Dad smiles.

  “No. Where?”

  “In the ‘living’ room!” Dad laughs. “Get it? Ha! The ‘living’ room. Because the zombies are dead! And ‘living’ is opposite to dead. Get it?”

  “That’s a bad joke, Dad,” I shake my head.

  My Dad loves to tell bad jokes.

  Every time we go to the grocery store to buy milk, the cashier asks Dad if he would like the milk in a bag, and he always replies, ‘No. Just leave it in the carton!’

  Sigh.

  “Do you know why the zombies fell asleep?” Dad is still laughing.

  “Dad. Stop,” I groan. “I don’t want to hear any more of your bad jokes. Just stop.”

  “They fell asleep because they were ‘dead’ tired! Haha! Get it, Charlie?” Dad laughs loudly. “Dead tired!”

  “I get it, Dad,” I shake my head again. “But Dad, could these zombies be dressed as school teachers?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Charlie. I said that they dress up as all sorts of things, but they definitely wouldn’t dress up as school teachers. I couldn’t see why a zombie would want to dress up as a school teacher. That would be a really absurd costume for a zombie. I couldn’t imagine that happening. Nope. No chance. Never.”

  “But my 6th grade teacher…”

  “Don’t be so silly, Charl
ie. Zombies don’t want to play at school. They wouldn’t be interested in staying there. They have more important things to do, like take over the world. This new breed of zombies is not going to waste their time hanging around at places like your school. That’s a very silly idea, Charlie.”

  “But Dad-”

  “No, son. These zombies are interested in smelly, sweaty little people that are about half the size of an average human. They’re not interested in school children. They want to find something to eat, they don’t want to learn math. Why would a zombie need to know math? And can you imagine that? A zombie in the classroom. Maybe they would start school at ‘ate’ o’clock! Ha! I’m so funny. Get it, Charlie? ‘Ate’ o’clock, instead of ‘eight’ o’clock. Haha!”

  Groan.

  Dad is one of the smartest people I have ever met – but he can be so dumb.

  I know that sounds strange, but he is.

  He seems to know everything about everything - but then he can’t even see the glasses that sit on his face.

  He’ll ask Mom over and over again where his glasses are, but they are always on his head!

  “Can I have a turn with the new gun?” I change the conversation before Dad can tell me any more zombie jokes.

  “Sure Charlie, you can try my new gun,” Dad hands me the new gadget. “But you need to be extra careful with this weapon. This gun is super powerful and can do all sorts of damage if you shoot it in the wrong direction. We don’t want to hurt anything.”

  “Yes, Dad,” I reply. “How does it work?”

  “Our gadget scientist designed it to be really simple, Charlie. You just point it at the target and shoot. That’s all there is to it.”

  The laser gun is really light, and fun to swing around. I pretend to shoot things, jumping into my best shooting pose.

  “Ka-zap, ka-zap!” I shout as I pretend to shoot the gun.