At that second, three words gripped Max.

Multi-Hologram-Spray!

He grabbed the can from his combat’s pocket and squeezed a powerful blast into the air. Twenty life-sized 3-D images of him were projected all over the cave. Deezil and the centurions looked around with complete bewilderment. The real Max turned and fled into the tunnel that led into the depths of the cave.

The tunnel was very dark, its only light coming from a faint glow in the distance. It smelt of damp and moss. Drips of water plopped onto Max’s head every few metres. The tunnel led downwards. As he fled, Max’s mind fizzed with questions. Would the tunnel lead to a possible escape route? Might it take him a step nearer to Slime Beasts and the portal? Or would it be a dead end - enabling Deezil’s men to trap him and kill him? The Multi-Hologram Spray had bought him a minute or two, but he could hear heavy footsteps pounding mercilessly after him.

‘THIS WAY!’

It was Deezil’s voice.

‘HURRY UP! THAT REVOLTING LITTLE GAMER COULD STAND BETWEEN US AND FRREDOM!’

Max sped up, almost tumbling as his trainers crashed over pebbles and boulders.

‘THERE HE IS!’ shrieked Deezil.

Max looked over his shoulder. He could see dark shapes in hot pursuit and the clang of metal swords, bouncing off the tunnel walls. He was approaching the light now and could see that it was created by a hole in the tunnel roof. Just beneath this was a crossroads, with three gloomy paths.

Which should I take? The left on, the middle one or the right one?

He knew that a wrong decision could cost him his life.

Which one? WHICH ONE?

He’d just decided on the left path, when something suddenly caught his eye.

‘FASTER!’ screamed Deezil as he hurtled forwards and reached the crossroads, with the centurions right behind him.

‘WHERE IS HE?’ screamed Deezil.

The centurions looked around but there was no sign of the boy.

‘FIND HIM!’

Deezil banged his right fist into the palm of his left hand. ‘He must be here somewhere!’

His voice echoed off the damp walls.

‘There’s no sign of him,’ called out a centurion.

‘Right,’ snarled Deezil. ‘I want three of you to take the left path, three of you to take the right path and the rest to take the middle path with me.’

The crunching armoured footsteps took off again and after a couple of minutes, the noise faded away.

Max breathed a huge sigh of relief as he slipped out of the very narrow crack into which he’d just managed to squeeze, and hide himself, a second before Deezil and friends arrived at the crossroads. He’d watched them appear and held his breath as the centurions searched for him. He’d then watched them run off to continue their search. Max brushed the dust and cobwebs off his t-shirt and stayed still for a minute, thinking about Deezil’s plan.

Ok. Deezil was preparing all of the Virtuals on Ricky Stevens’ hard drive to get through the portal and battle the Gamers. How many Virtuals could there be on Ricky’s hard drive? Just think about all of the centurions in Centurion Killers; there were easily tens of thousands of them, and that was only one game. If all of the spectators and crowds in every game joined the Virtual army, it could probably stretch to millions.

And it wasn’t like the Gamers would have more sophisticated weapons than the Virtuals – it was the other way round! Computer programmers had unwittingly armed Virtuals with the most outlandish methods of attack. The combined might of the Gamers’ police, army, air-force and navy would surely be no match for the Ubez People from Flight of Pain, who had limitless stocks of shoulder high, nuclear rocket launchers? And what about the giant Mutant Ants from Cloud Catastrophe? They used low-flying camouflage, drone planes to spread their Deadly Butt Mist.

The Gamers would get mashed!

Max stepped into the left tunnel and hurried along it. About seventy metres down on the right, he spied a wooden stable door with two halves. From beyond the door he could hear the muted sound of thumping country and western music.

Max hated country and western music almost as much as he hated homework, but surely a bit of C + W was better than hanging around for Deezil and the centurions to catch him?

He tried pushing open the top half of the door but it didn’t budge. He had no luck with the bottom half either. He gave the door a barge with his shoulder; still nothing. Standing back, he aimed a high kick at the centre of the door and both halves flew open. As he sprang forwards, the music flooded into his ears.

It was Yankee Doodle, with a thumping bass and crashing beat.

Max’s eyes adjusted to the light and he saw he was in a lush green meadow, with fluffy sheep grazing all around him at the bottom of a gently rising hill. He couldn’t see Deezil or any centurions, so that was a good start. A skinny girl with plaits in her hair, dazzling blue eyes and wearing dungarees covered in paint, suddenly appeared at his side and linked her arm through his.

‘Hi there cowboy!’ she yelled with an American twang. ‘I’m Daisy Do-Good! Welcome to Farmyard Frolics!’