The Secret Zoo (6 page)

F
ifty feet from the zoo gate, Noah stopped pedaling. He coasted silently to the entrance, dismounted, and ducked behind the bushes. Beside the gate was a glass booth. Inside, a light and a small TV were on, but the guard wasn't there. Noah crouched down and ran toward the gate, pulling his bike beside him.

He plucked the gold key out of his pocket and poked it in the slot. It didn't fit. He turned it over and tried again. No luck.

“C'mon, you stupid thing.”

He heard a cough. Inside, a guard was coming toward
him. Noah tried to force the key in. Even the tip didn't fit.

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!” he muttered. “Don't do this!”

Another cough—this time, much closer. Noah heard the man's feet shuffling.

“Fit, you stupid—”

Then something magical happened. The key transformed. Its ridges melted, and its bumpy edge became smooth. Noah stared at the flat key in his hand, confused.

“Wha—?”

Noah could hear the guard's footsteps. He was closing on Noah, reaching the end of a path that ran between a pair of long hedges. In a panic, Noah stabbed the key at the slot. This time, it slipped in and the lock opened with a soft click. When he pulled the key out, the sharp ridges were back.

“No way!” he mumbled.

Seconds before the guard rounded the hedge, Noah grabbed his bike, slipped through the gate, and coasted into the shadows.

He was inside. At least part of the way.

“L
et me get this straight,” Richie said. He and Ella were standing beside an oak tree near the zoo wall in their neighbor's backyard. They were looking at a branch that ran across the top of the wall. “That branch is at least twenty feet high. You want to climb up there, walk across it, leap onto the wall, and then jump into the zoo?”

“Good plan, don't ya think?”

“I guess that depends on what kinds of animals are in there.”

“Probably a bunch of peacocks,” Ella assured him. She suddenly noticed something about Richie. He was
wearing leather boots instead of his normal running shoes. “Where the heck are your shoes?”

“In here,” Richie said as he adjusted a backpack he'd brought with him. “Along with some other stuff. Supplies, you know.”

“How come you're not wearing 'em?”

“They're kinda flashy.”

“Good point,” Ella said with an understanding nod. “Probably not a good idea to bust into the zoo with shoes that practically glow in the dark.”

Richie pointed to the tree and shifted the conversation back to a greater concern. “You think that branch will hold us?”

Ella tipped her head and considered his query for a moment. Her answer came out like a question: “Yes?”

“That's convincing.”

“C'mon, Richie! Don't go and wimp out on me.”

“We shouldn't even be in this yard,” Richie said. “We're trespassing.”

“Yeah,” Ella said. “But since we're about to sneak into the zoo in the middle of the night, I don't think standing in someone's grass is such a big deal.”

Richie couldn't think of an answer to that.

“Listen, Richie. We don't have a choice. I mean, we've already lost Megan to whatever's going on in that crazy zoo. Are we ready to lose Noah, too?”

“Okay,” Richie said. “You're right.”

Ella nodded and sprang into action. With the grace of a gymnast, she jumped, twirled, kicked, and heaved her way up the tree. Within seconds, she reached the branch twenty feet in the air.

With some effort, a little time to recoup halfway, and a lot of grunting and whimpering, Richie managed to make his way up. Ella nodded at him and headed out across the branch, which ran parallel to the ground. She used smaller branches that stemmed from it for support and moved easily from one point to the next, stepping over patches of twigs and leaves. In no time, she swung down to the concrete wall, which had a wide, flat cap that over-hung both sides by a few inches.

“See any animals?” Richie called out.

Ella gazed over the wall. “Nunh-unh. It's too dark. You've got your penlight, right?”

Richie patted his chest pocket. “Just like a good scout.”

“Okay. Your turn.”

Richie inspected the distance beneath him. “Here I come…I guess,” he said.

He took his first step, slipped, and started to flap his arms to keep his balance. His hips shifted from side to side, and his rear end pushed out in different directions.

“Richie, be careful!”

He managed to grab a branch and steady himself. After
taking a few minutes to find his composure, he wiped his sweaty forehead and started again. He eventually traversed the branch and jumped down to the wall. He pulled out his penlight.

“Let's see what's down there,” Ella said.

Richie tried to flick the switch of his penlight and instead flicked it right out of his hand! It clanked down on the wall, bounced once, and disappeared into the darkness of the zoo. The children stared down in disbelief.

“Oops,” Richie said.

“Forget about it,” Ella said. “We'll take our chances.”

“Are you sure? There could be more than peacocks down there.”

“Let's hope not.”

They sat down on the wall and prepared to jump.

“You ready?” Ella asked.

“I'm ready.”

“On three?”

“On three.”

“Okay! Here we go.” Ella licked her top lip and started the count. “One…two…THREE!”

They pushed off the wall and plunged into the shadows. They free-fell for what seemed to Ella a very long time, but was probably just a second or two. When Ella hit the ground, bolts of pain shot through her knees. The scouts had landed on a hill, and immediately they
started to roll. Ten somersaults later, they came to a stop. Unfortunately it happened to be in a pool of thick mud. Even more unfortunately, something beside Ella was breathing in her face, grunting an angry animal grunt.

It was no peacock.

N
oah rode quietly across the zoo along the maze of winding paths. Light fell from overhead lamps and the eaves of the zoo buildings, cutting cone-shaped wedges out of the darkness—wedges that Noah dodged in order to stay hidden.

After speeding past Giraffic Jam, he turned onto a dirt path surrounded by trees. The area was marked as a nature preserve. His bike splashed through puddles and clunked across two bridges made of wooden planks. At the end of the path, Noah bounced back onto the sidewalk. He raced past the A-Lotta-Hippopotami exhibit,
rolled through Arctic Town, and sped around Creepy Critters.

He neared Metr-APE-olis and spotted two distant figures strolling toward him. He got off his bike and ducked behind the bushes. When the leaves stopped rustling, he realized that the faraway voices belonged to men. As they approached, their voices grew louder. Finally Noah could make out the words.

“Then Tank showed up and got rid of 'em,” one man said.

“He didn't hurt them, did he?” This fellow had an annoying, squeaky voice. It reminded Noah of a dog's chew toy.

“Not that I know. I heard he just got rid of 'em.”

Noah realized they were talking about the scouts.

“They'll be back, I suppose.”

“Let's just hope they don't get the police involved,” the other man squeaked.

“For pete's sake, Henry! Don't even mention such a thing!”

As they passed Noah, their conversation changed to another subject. They kept walking, their footsteps softened, and their voices faded away.

Noah sat for a moment and tried to sort through his feelings. Finally he said to himself, “Tank, why don't I trust you?” He considered this and realized his feelings
didn't matter anymore. It was too late to turn back. With that, he hopped onto his bike and tore down the path.

He pedaled past Metr-APE-olis, coasted by the Forest of Flight, rolled to a stop at Penguin Palace, and hid his bike in the bushes. He swiped his key out of his pocket and held it up to the lock. The key worked its magic. When he turned his wrist—
click
!—the lock opened. The hinges squeaked as Noah pushed the door open with his shoulder. Before him was the dark interior of Penguin Palace.

“I'm getting close, Megan.”

He took a deep breath and stepped inside, ready for anything. Or so he thought.

E
lla didn't dare move. Mud oozed between her fingers and seeped into her pants and shoes. It was too dark to see the animal, but she could hear its gravelly grunts and feel the heat rising from its skin. It sloshed through the mud, shifting the earth beneath her. Then it snorted, and a burst of snot pushed her head aside.

Ella was sitting up. She could faintly see movement to her left. Richie! He was writhing in the mud, mumbling something.

“Richie, stay still,” Ella whispered. “Don't move.”

The animal grunted, and as it moved closer, the ground
trembled. A wave of mud splashed across Ella's lap.

“Ella?”

“Shh!”

The animal nudged her shoulder. Its touch was hard, smooth, and sharp. A cold edge slid against her cheek and knocked her earmuffs askew. The animal backed a few steps away, and a new round of tremors shook the ground. Seconds later, Ella felt the creature push against her spine.

“Ella,” Richie said. “It's—it's—”

Richie was trying to tell her what the animal was, but she didn't need that. She'd just figured out that the sharp thing pushing against her was at the end of the animal's snout. And she could think of only one animal that carried such a peculiar feature in such a peculiar spot.

“It's a rhino!” Richie finished.

As he said the word, the beast moved its deadly horn to the base of Ella's spine. She held her breath and hoped she wouldn't feel too much pain.

N
oah stepped into Penguin Palace and closed the door softly behind him. The air inside was cold and damp. He entered the main room, which housed a gigantic four-sided aquarium full of penguins.

The aquarium had a view from every side. It reached all the way to the ceiling, covered most of the floor, and was nearly half the size of Noah's school gymnasium. In the middle of the aquarium was a landmass covered with ice. It nearly filled the aquarium. On all sides, the land ended just feet from the glass walls, creating a narrow channel. Full of water, this channel gave the penguins a place to
swim. A crowd of penguins was gathered on the icy shore. They were standing around, doing nothing, and looking bored and sad in the strange way that penguins always look bored and sad.

Noah walked up to the glass. One by one, the birds noticed him and waddled to the edge of the ice. They began to rock from side to side and flap their flat flippers. In no time, every penguin had its beady eyes locked on Noah.

“Hello, guys,” Noah said. He pressed his palms against the cold aquarium and asked, “Which one of you is Podgy?”

T
he rhino's dagger-sharp curved horn slid up Ella's back, meticulously skipping over each disk in her spine as it slipped beneath her jacket. The enormous animal's simple touch revealed all its might, all its power, and all its potential.

Just when Ella was certain she would be speared, the rhinoceros hoisted her out of the mud with one clean jerk of its head. Ella dangled in the air at the end of its snout.

“Hey!” she said, squirming and kicking the air. “Richie! Help!”

The rhino sloshed through the mud, bouncing and swinging her from its pointed horn like a puppet on a short, fat string. The top band of her earmuffs fell across her face. The animal's every footfall sent a fresh wave of panic over her.

“Put me down!” she grunted.

The rhino started to trot, and she felt the cold wind prick her cheeks. Seconds later, at the end of the yard, the animal swiftly lowered her to the ground.

Ella recovered quickly and spun around. Here, near the zoo lights, she caught her first glimpse of the animal. Its eyes were warm and brown, and in them Ella saw only kindness. The rhino didn't want to harm her—it wanted to help, just the way Blizzard had.

It snorted, spun around, and quaked back into the darkness. Seconds later, she heard Richie shrieking.

“This can't be happening!” Ella shuddered.

The rhino charged out of the shadows, dangling Richie by his backpack. When it reached Ella, it dipped its head and slipped the boy off its spike. Richie scrambled to Ella's side, and together the scouts gazed up at the huge beast.

“It's…it's friendly,” Richie gasped.

“Maybe they're
all
friendly,” Ella said. “At least to us.”

She reached up. The rhino lowered its head and allowed Ella to pet the side of its face. Its skin was hard and rough.

“Thanks,” Ella said. “For the help, I mean.”

The rhino grunted and nudged them toward the main part of the zoo with its massive head.

“It wants us to go,” Richie said. “It wants us…”

“To find Megan,” Ella declared. “Somehow, it knows.”

“This is too weird.”

“I have a feeling we haven't seen anything yet.”

The rhino nudged them again.

“Let's go,” Richie said. “I don't wanna be rude to this guy.”

“Yeah,” Ella said. “Especially when it could make a shish kebab out of us with one poke of its horn.”

The rhino nudged them a third time, and the scouts paid heed. They headed off toward a narrow pedestrian bridge that crossed a concrete trench on the perimeter of the rhino exhibit.

“Think we have time to stop Noah?” Richie asked.

“We're not gonna stop him,” Ella countered. “We're gonna join him.”

“But where is he going?”

“Heck if I know, Richie. Inside—whatever that means.”

They crossed the bridge and scrambled to the main path. Ella turned back to look at the sign over the entrance to the exhibit. She'd seen it too many times to count, but reading it now was like reading it for the first time:

As the scouts raced ahead, Ella whispered, “See you later, Little Bighorn.”

Though the words were intended to be a fond farewell, Ella was right: She
would
see Little Bighorn again. She would see a lot of him indeed.