Poacher Peril

by J. Burchett

  Wild Rescue: Poacher Peril

  published in 2011 by

  Hardie Grant Egmont

  85 High Street

  Prahran, Victoria 3181, Australia

  www.hardiegrantegmont.com.au

  First published by Stripes Publishing

  1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road

  London SW6 6AW

  The pages of this book are printed on paper derived

  from forests promoting sustainable management.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.

  A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia.

  Text copyright © 2009 Jan Burchett and Sara Vogler

  Illustrations copyright © 2009 Dianne Le Feyer of Cartoon Saloon

  Cover illustration and design © 2011 Hardie Grant Egmont

  Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  FOR DAVID GILL AND ALL AT THE

  SOUTH LAKES WILD ANIMAL PARK

  WHO WORK SO HARD TO SAVE

  TIGERS FROM EXTINCTION - JB & SV

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER

  ONE

  “That’s got to be the weirdest present I’ve ever had!” said Ben.

  A shiny glass eyeball was glaring at him from its brown envelope.

  “The weirdest present we’ve ever had. It’s my birthday too,” his twin sister Zoe reminded him. “Who’s it from?”

  “Dunno,” said Ben. He shook the eyeball out of the envelope. It was the size of a small marble, yellow flecked with a black dot.

  Zoe took the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper with a printed message.“Happy eleventh birthday, Zoe and Ben,” she read. “But it’s not signed.”

  “This is one of your jokes, isn’t it?” Ben grinned, waving the marble in her face.

  His sister shook her head, flicking her brown hair out of her eyes. “I don’t know anything about it.”

  “Yeah, right!”

  “No honest!” insisted Zoe. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Perhaps Mum and Dad sent it,” said Ben.

  “We’ve had their presents already,” said Zoe. She studied the envelope more closely. “Anyway, it’s not a Mexican stamp.”

  Ben and Zoe’s parents were vets who travelled the world working with endangered animals. A month ago they’d been posted to Mexico on a project to protect the critically endangered Chiapan Climbing Rat. Ben and Zoe had always gone with them in the past. But in September they would be starting secondary school so their parents had decided they had to stay in England. Mum and Dad kept them up to date with regular phone calls, but it wasn’t the same as being there. Gran had come to look after them while their parents were away, and at this moment she was clattering about in the kitchen, icing a birthday cake.

  Ben held up the eyeball. “Maybe it’s a clue to something,” he said. “Like in those treasure hunts Mum and Dad used to do for us.”

  “It’s not much of a clue though,” said Zoe, frowning. “What do we do next?”

  “Maybe the sender has left a message on our website,” said Ben. “That’s how most people get in touch with us.” He pocketed the glass eyeball, went to the computer and logged in. A picture of a gorilla filled the screen, with the words “animals in danger” arched over its head. The deep cry of a silverback male echoed round the room.

  During their travels with their parents Ben and Zoe regularly posted updates of their projects on their website. And they also used it to keep in touch with the people they’d met all over the world.

  “There’s loads of new posts,” said Ben. He scrolled down.

  “There’s one from the Elephant Sanctuary in Kenya,” said Zoe. “Open it up. Awwww, Zahara had a bull calf this morning!”

  A photo of a tiny baby elephant with huge ears and a tufty topknot flashed up on the screen.

  “Cute,” gushed Zoe. “And he shares our birthday.”

  Ben rolled his eyes and quickly scrolled down the list. He was just as keen to protect animals as his sister, but sometimes she hit the jackpot on the Gooey Scale.

  “There’s one from Brian and his orangutans.”

  “I don’t recognise the one below it,” said Zoe. “It says the Island.”

  Ben clicked on it. “You’ll have got the eye by now,” he read slowly. “Time to give it back to its rightful owner. Then the adventure can begin.”

  “Adventure?” said Zoe. “What adventure?”

  Ben pulled the eyeball out of his pocket. “Better do as we’re told. But who’s lost a glass eye?”

  “Looks like a cat’s,” said Zoe thoughtfully. “But there’s no one-eyed cat round here!”

  “It’s not a cat’s eye,” Ben said. “They don’t have round pupils, more of a slit.” Suddenly he jumped to his feet and made for the door. “I’ve got it! Come on!”

  Zoe caught up with him by the bookshelf in the hall. He was wobbling on a chair, reaching for the very top. He pulled down an ugly china tiger, which Gran had brought with her when she came to stay. She’d insisted on it being displayed in spite of protests from the rest of the family.

  The tiger was battered and chipped and had one yellow glass eye. The other was missing, leaving only an empty socket.

  Ben and Zoe looked at each other.

  “So did Gran set the puzzle?” said Ben.

  “Put it in and we’ll find out,” urged Zoe.

  Ben took the eyeball and pressed it into the socket. It fitted perfectly.

  There was a click and a whir and the three-dimensional image of a man appeared in the air. “A hologram!” exclaimed Zoe.

  “Greetings, godchildren,” said the image, with a jovial smile. “Of course, if you’re not Ben and Zoe Woodward this message isn’t for you.”

  “It’s Uncle Stephen!” gasped Ben. “But he disappeared four years ago!”

  Their godfather, Dr Stephen Fisher, a world-renowned animal specialist, had vanished at around the time of their seventh birthday and hadn’t been heard of since. Ben and Zoe hadn’t seen him often, but they’d always looked forward to his visits. And, of course, they’d never missed a single one of his TV appearances. They’d loved their godfather and his crazy ways. He would make up clever games that always had them thinking hard and howling with laughter at the same time.

  “As you know, I disappeared some time ago,” said the flickering image. “This is my hologram. That doesn’t mean I’m dead, far from it. I went undercover so I could concentrate on my great plan to save endangered animals.”

  The image stepped right up to them.

  “I’m going to tell you a secret.” He looked around as if to make sure no-one was listening. Ben and Zoe found themselves doing the same. “Four years ago, I set up an organisation called Wild – which must remain completely confidential!”

  “Why’s he telling us about it then?” hissed Ben.

  “I expect you’re wondering why I’m telling you about it,” Uncle Stephen went on brightly. “I’ve kept an eye on your movements and I’m very impressed with your work with endangered animals. You both have valuable skills and knowledge and I want you to join me at Wild. Can’t tell you where it is, of course, but your contact will be in touch. See
you soon!”

  The image flickered. Then it appeared again. “Erm…if you’re not Ben and Zoe Woodward, then obviously your contact won’t be in touch,” it said apologetically and vanished.

  “Wow!” gasped Ben. “A secret organisation – and Uncle Stephen wants us to join. We’d better get packed.”

  “Hang on,” said Zoe. “You’re always rushing into things. We don’t know where we’re going yet, or who our contact is.”

  “Children!” Gran was yelling from the kitchen. “Cake’s ready.”

  “We’ll talk later,” said Ben. “I’m not missing Gran’s chocolate cake for anything!”

  They raced down the hall to the kitchen. Gran stood beaming at them, holding out a chocolate cake with eleven candles. She winked at them.

  “Just got time for this before your Wild adventure.”

  CHAPTER

  TWO

  Ben and Zoe rattled along in the back of Gran’s little car.

  “I can’t get my head round this, Gran,” said Ben. “You were in on our godfather’s secret all along.”

  “As soon as Stephen contacted me I knew you two would be perfect to join Wild.” Gran smiled.

  “And you won’t tell us any more.”

  “Certainly not!” declared Gran. “That’s up to him.”

  She suddenly swung the car off the road and started to drive across a field! Zoe looked at Ben. “Has Gran lost her marbles?” she whispered. The car was lurching wildly over the furrowed ground.

  “Nearly there,” called their grandmother over her shoulder.

  Now the children could see a helicopter in the field ahead. A young woman jumped out. She was wearing jeans and a thick jacket and her blonde hair was tied in a rough ponytail.

  “That’s Erika,” said Gran. “She’ll be taking you from here.” She bumped the car to a halt. “Have fun and be safe,” she said, blowing them a quick kiss as they got out. “And don’t worry about your mum and dad. I’ll deal with them. See you soon.” She hurtled off across the field.

  “This is so unreal!” Zoe muttered as the woman came forwards to shake their hands.

  “Good morning, Ben and Zoe.” The woman had a German accent. “I’m Erika Bohn, Dr Fisher’s second-incommand. I’m here to take you to the Island.” She led the way to the helicopter and settled herself in the pilot’s seat. “Strap yourselves in,” she said. She put on her headset and handed them some ear protectors. She began flicking switches. The door closed and the rotors vroomed into life.

  “Where are we going?” asked Ben, shouting above the noise.

  “Any questions will have to wait for Dr Fisher,” Erika told them as they flew north over fields and towns. “He’s bursting to tell you all about it himself and would never forgive me if I let anything slip.”

  Zoe sniffed the air. “What’s that smell? Is everything all right with the helicopter?”

  Erika chuckled. “I forgot to warn you. We use alternative energy sources at Wild. This helicopter is fuelled by chicken manure.”

  “You mean poo?” said Ben.

  “Yes,” said Erika. “It’s environmentally friendly. And free – there’s plenty on the Island. But it does take a while to get used to the smell.”

  Now they’d left the land behind and were flying over choppy waves.

  “Landing in thirty seconds,” Erika announced.

  “Where?” whispered Zoe.

  “Look, there’s a little island ahead,”

  Ben told her, looking out of his window.

  “Though that can’t be it. It’s too small.”

  But Erika was bringing the helicopter down on a bare patch of earth among wild grass and bushes. Ben and Zoe jumped down and gazed at their desolate surroundings. Erika appeared at their side. She pulled a remote control from her jacket and pressed a button. Sheets of old wood suddenly rose from the ground around the helicopter and made a shelter. A corrugated roof slid up from one of the walls and slammed down on top.

  “Now no-one will know there’s a helicopter there,” she explained. “It’s important for Wild to stay absolutely secret. Follow me and mind where you step.” She dodged round a pile of droppings. “There’s ‘fuel’ everywhere.”

  She led the way through what looked like a chicken farm. There were tatty henhouses and chickens running about freely.

  “It looks a mess,” said Erika, “but that’s all part of Wild HQ’s disguise. And I promise you the chickens are well looked after.”

  “Look at the chicks!” cooed Zoe, stopping to watch a mother hen stalk past, followed by her brood. “They’re just like little balls of fluff!”

  “Gooey overload.” Ben pretended he was being sick.

  Zoe stuck out her tongue at him, as Erika flung open the door of a rickety shed. There was an old-fashioned toilet inside. “In we go!” she said cheerfully. Ben and Zoe exchanged a look. They knew what each other was thinking. This was getting seriously weird.

  It was a tight squeeze, especially after Erika had pulled the door shut and drawn the bolt across. She pulled the chain. Instead of the expected noise of water gurgling, there was a gentle hum. “Hold on to your bellies,” she warned. “This is a turbo lift.”

  “Turbo’s not the word!” gasped Ben, as the lift suddenly shot down and finally came to rest deep underground. “That was better than any theme park ride.”

  “Welcome to Wild,” said Erika, as she stepped out of the lift. “These are our headquarters – where we coordinate all our plans.”

  The children followed her into a long, brightlylit corridor. They passed doors on both sides. Erika waved a hand. “These are bedrooms, bathrooms, everything we need to live on an island…”

  She stopped at a door at the far end marked Control Room and placed her fingertips on a pad.

  “Print identification complete,” came an electronic voice from the intercom above.

  “This is like a spy film,” Zoe whispered to Ben. “What are we letting ourselves in for?”

  The door slid open. Erika ushered the children in and it closed silently behind them.

  CHAPTER

  THREE

  Ben and Zoe stared open-mouthed at the huge, busy room in front of them. There were people sitting at computers, who looked up and smiled, then got back to their work. The walls were covered with giant plasma screens showing footage of animals in the wild.

  “They’re all endangered,” murmured Ben, taking in the amazing sight of mountain gorillas, pandas and hawksbill turtles in their natural habitats. Zoe gasped and pointed at one of the screens.

  “That’s the black-tailed ferret!” she exclaimed. “They’re nearly extinct.”

  “You’re right,” came a deep voice. “Wild’s working hard to stop that from happening.”

  Out from behind a workstation stepped a smiling Uncle Stephen. He was wearing old jeans and a dinner jacket with a bow tie. His spiky red hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed for days.

  “Ben and Zoe!” He shook their hands vigorously. “You haven’t changed much from the seven-year-old scamps I remember,” he said. “There’s always been a thirst for adventure in those bright blue eyes.”

  “It’s great seeing you again,” said Zoe, giving him a hug.

  Uncle Stephen laughed and ruffled her hair. “What do you think of Wild headquarters?”

  “They’re awesome,” said Ben, looking round the bustling room. “How deep underground are we?”

  “A few hundred metres,” Uncle Stephen replied. “It keeps us away from prying eyes. You’d be surprised how much space we have down here. Apart from this control room there are offices, living quarters, labs, a games room and even a swimming pool.”

  “I can’t imagine you organising all this!” Zoe grinned cheekily.

  “You’ve got a point, Zoe,” Uncle Stephen chuckled. “But thanks to Erika, Wild runs like clockwork. She’s my second-incommand and keeps everything moving along smoothly. I just do a bit of tinkering here and there.”

  “I think y
ou’re being modest,” said Erika. “After all, you are the driving force behind the entire operation and it’s you who does all the planning of our missions.”

  “Well, I suppose there is that,” admitted Uncle Stephen.

  “And you invent all the gadgets and equipment Wild uses,” Erika went on.

  “All environmentally friendly, of course,” put in Uncle Stephen.

  “Like the chicken poo fuel,” said Zoe. “What do you use the eggs for? Something really ingenious?”

  “Breakfast.” Their godfather grinned. “I like them boiled, with soldiers.”

  “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” said Ben thoughtfully. “Why does Wild have to be secret? Couldn’t you get more help if the organisation was known?”

  “We could,” said Uncle Stephen. “But we’d get a lot more enemies, too. If nobody knows we exist we can operate in our own way.”

  “There are people out there who’d want to stop us helping endangered animals,” explained Erika. “Poachers, collectors, those who have their own plans for the animals’ habitats. So we must remain completely hidden from the world.”

  “As you can see, working for Wild can be dangerous at times,” added Uncle Stephen, “but it’s always very rewarding. Now are you ready to take on your first mission?”

  “Mission?” Ben’s eyes lit up. “Are we off somewhere else?”

  “Of course,” said Uncle Stephen. “Wild has a very important project and who better than my wonderful godchildren to undertake it!” He rubbed his hands eagerly. “One of Wild’s planes will be ready first thing tomorrow. Erika will be your pilot again.” He saw the stunned amazement on the children’s faces. “You look like a couple of Kootenai sturgeon gawping at me like that.” He chuckled.

  Erika cleared her throat. “You haven’t told them where they’re going.”

  “Haven’t I?” Uncle Stephen went over to a control panel and touched it. On the largest screen a world map appeared. He navigated it to the Indian Ocean and zoomed in on a long, thin island. “Sumatra,” he said.