by Bryan Chick
Richie looked down at himself and Little Bighorn. Both were invisible.
The guard reached his other hand for his flashlight, decided against it, and stood with his elbow cocked out to his side like a cowboy at a showdown. Richie listened for what the guard could hear, and came up with nothing but the faint rustle of leaves and the weak drone of a faraway car.
The guard reached onto his hip and powered off his walkie-talkie. Then he tiptoed through the open door. He came within five feet of Little Bighorn—four feet, three feet, two.
Richie realized there was nothing he or Lee-Lee could do to prevent what was about to happen, and a second later, the guard bumped into Little Bighorn’s invisible snout and then let out a breathy grunt as he jumped back a few steps, his baton still cocked, his eyes as big and round as quarters. His eyes shifted left, then right. He raised his free arm, and as he eased his trembling fingertips forward, they brushed the rhino’s horn, and a chameleon leaped onto the guard’s hand and began to crawl across it, making it disappear.
Little Bighorn suddenly sneezed and a wet burst of air blew across the guard, peeling off his security hat and coating his face in snot. As the guard repeatedly blinked, Richie saw what he saw—the full face of a rhinoceros. The guard glanced down at his own chest, where strips of his body were now disappearing—a few chameleons had been flung off of Little Bighorn.
The guard dropped his walkie-talkie and ran outside. If he had stayed around a few seconds longer, he would have heard Richie say, “Gesundheit!” as Little Bighorn stomped out of Horns Aplenty, crushing the walkie-talkie on his way.
CHAPTER 36
MEGAN SOOTHES THE SAVAGE BEAST
Megan began to close in on Blizzard only because he’d stopped and was now staring down a security guard who had happened into his path. The guard, a man in his fifties, had big ears and a bushy mustache. His baton, which was raised above his head, was trembling with his arm. He reached for his walkie-talkie, dropped it, and either didn’t realize it or care. Blizzard let out a low, slow growl, and slunk forward to within a few feet of him.
Megan remembered what the police officers had done to Blizzard in her school gym. He’d allowed himself to be captured because he’d believed he was protecting the Secret Zoo. This time, however, things were different, and Megan realized the zoo guard was going to die if she didn’t do something.
“Blizzard! No!” she hollered as she closed to within thirty feet of the scene.
Blizzard swung his long neck and glanced behind him. Seeing nothing, he turned back to the guard, whose baton was trembling more than ever.
“Blizzard!”
The bear turned his head again, and Megan hoped he knew her voice. As she closed to within ten feet, she opened her pocket and sent her chameleons away. Blizzard swung his body around and faced her, and after only a second or two, his tense muscles eased up.
“It’s me!” she said. Then she wrapped her arms around Blizzard and pressed her face against his. Blizzard turned his snout and sniffed the air near her.
“I’m here to take you home,” Megan said, and the thought of that softened her heart. Days ago, she’d never expected to see her polar bear friend again.
“What . . . what’s going on?”
Megan peered over Blizzard to see the guard standing in the same place, his baton a shadowy back-and-forth blur above his head.
“Get back, kid!” the guard hollered.
Megan opened her pocket and disappeared again.
The man jumped to one side and then another, gazing everywhere.
“Over here,” Megan said, and the guard spun around to where her voice was now coming from, several feet off to one side.
Megan glanced at Blizzard and was relieved to see he’d eased back a few steps and was no longer snarling.
“I’m here now,” Megan said from the other side of the guard, who jumped and turned in the air, his worried eyes moving from spot to spot. “Drop the baton.”
The guard did, next to his walkie-talkie.
As Megan picked both items up, they seemed to float in the air before disappearing in her camouflage.
Megan felt the air move beside her and realized Sara had joined them.
“Are you afraid?” Megan asked the guard.
The man nodded, again and again.
“Good. That’ll keep you alive. I’m not alone, you know.”
Megan elbowed Sara, who understood the cue. “If I were you, I’d do what she says.”
The man gasped and jumped at the new voice. “Please . . . I have kids. A . . . a family.”
“So do we,” Megan said. “That’s why we’re here.”
The guard nodded again.
“We’re taking the bear. If you call the police in the next hour, we’ll be back.”
“I won’t!” the man whimpered. “I promise!”
Megan grabbed Sara’s wrist and led her over to Blizzard. She studied the bear’s injuries and whispered, “Can you carry us?”
In answer, Blizzard lowered himself to the ground, and Megan and Sara climbed on, Megan in the front. Blizzard came to his feet—a bit slowly, Megan thought—and then trotted off. As he rounded a building, Megan heard a zipper opening and realized it was Sara’s.
“Ghost him,” Sara said.
Megan opened her pocket and allowed dozens of chameleons to portal through. They scattered across Blizzard’s body and quickly camouflaged him. Megan smiled. Then she threw the guard’s baton and walkie-talkie into a bush.
CHAPTER 37
THE JAM WITH THE JELLIES
It took only seconds for the water level to rise past their knees. Noah’s pants clung to his body like thick skin. Something else was coming through the broken aquarium. Crabs. Dozens were riding the torrent, their claws reaching out, their back legs paddling futilely.
Noah waded though the flood, which was now at his waist, and fumbled along the walls, looking for some type of escape. He saw chameleons squirming in the growing depths and realized they were being stripped off him and Ella. Unable to stay afloat, the lizards plummeted toward the floor.
An idea struck him. The way the water was coming in could be their way out. He dove headfirst into the cold water, which stole his breath and what was left of his body heat. He paddled a sloppy breaststroke, his open eyes unable to focus on much. As he neared the broken aquarium, the flowing water pushed against him like an ocean wave, and after only a few seconds, he lost his strength and was sent backward. He surfaced, gasping for air, and found the flood was up to his chest now.
“What are you doing?” Ella said, and Noah realized she was visible again.
“The broken tank . . .” Noah panted. “I couldn’t get through.”
The flood reached Noah’s neck, his chin, his mouth. He stood on his tiptoes, tipped back his head, and managed to keep his nose up for a few seconds. As the water continued to rise, he kicked his arms and legs and rose with it. Ella did the same.
A jellyfish floated by, the bell of its body opening and closing to guide it along. A second appeared, and then a third, a fourth. Some were clear, and others were tinted with vibrant reds and yellows and blues. Noah counted ten, fifteen, twenty. They were coming from the aquariums, the front walls of which were opening like glass doors—part of DeGraff’s trap, no doubt. An entire bloom of jellyfish began to crowd the space around him, stringy tentacles dangling beneath bulbous bodies. Noah’s clothes protected him from their sting, but he still dodged to keep them from touching his hands or his face.
As the flood rose higher and higher, the ceiling neared and sounds changed, echoes softening. The scouts fought the weight of their wet clothes to keep their heads up, and when the ceiling came to within three feet, its stringy seaweed stuck to Noah’s cheeks. Finally, his head could go no further, and the water rose past his chin, his nose, his brow, and then claimed the last of the open space—the last of the Secret Jelly Alley’s oxygen.
Noah swam down. With the torches out, the only light came fro
m inside a few fish tanks. Hundreds of jellyfish seemed to be flying around him like bizarre birds from a planet in a dream. He felt a terrible sting and looked down to see a jellyfish touching his hand. Pressure built in his chest, and his heart began to hammer against his sternum. He needed air.
His gaze happened upon a dead chameleon floating by, its long, limp tail swaying in the currents, and Noah felt bad for it. The chameleon had so selflessly served the Specters and the Secret Society, always ready to portal from—
His thoughts stopped. The portal pockets—the Specters had told the scouts that anything could pass through them. And Noah had seen it happen with Richie’s hand. Did “anything” include water?
Noah didn’t waste any more time wondering. He reached down, unzipped his right pocket, and immediately felt water flow through the opening. His limbs were pushed and pulled by a swirl of different currents.
Ella saw what was happening and followed his lead. The water level began to fall, and the ceiling of Jelly Alley seemed to rise into the air, water dripping from its green seaweed. The scouts surfaced and greedily sucked back several breaths.
Noah felt his stomach burning, and when he dunked his head, he saw a jellyfish had gotten under his shirt. He tried to flick it off, noticing more jellyfish on his pants. As several crabs neared, he used his arm to bat them away. The water wasn’t the only thing being sucked toward his pocket.
The scouts were lowered farther and farther from the ceiling, and then finally touched the floor. The water had stopped gushing from the broken aquarium, leaving a pool that stopped at the height of their pockets. Jellyfish and crabs were floating all around.
“I can’t believe. . . .” Ella gazed at her arms, her hands, her stomach. “I can’t believe we’re not dead.” She touched his palms to her wet earmuffs, as if to ensure her head was still there. “I mean . . . we’re not, right?”
“Not yet,” Noah said. “What do you think happened to all the chameleons at the Portal Place?”
Ella shrugged. “Probably got flushed out of their building.” She jumped to one side to avoid a crab. “We better come up with a plan to get out of here pretty fast.”
Noah remembered his idea from earlier. “We can make it out through the aquarium, the one all this water came from.” He waded to one side of the corridor, avoiding jellyfish. “C’mon—this way.” When they reached the wall, he stuck his foot through the hole in an aquarium near the floor, saying, “This is the one—the big rectangular one.”
Ella said, “But what if it connects to a tunnel . . . like in the Grottoes? How long will we need to hold our breath?”
Noah ignored the question and moved his leg to force a few crabs aside. Then he shook out his shoulders. “Let’s go.”
When he plunged headfirst into the open aquarium, Ella followed.
CHAPTER 38
ESCAPE FROM WATERFORD ZOO
“Head to the far side of the zoo,” Megan said, “toward the water tower.”
Blizzard grunted and broke into a run. As his muscles quaked, so did Megan’s, and the chameleons poked her as they struggled to hold on.
They rounded a fountain with statues of several seals pointing their slender snouts toward the sky, then turned onto a long brick walkway. A camel exhibit blurred by, and then an empty gorilla yard. Through Blizzard’s invisible body, Megan watched the powdery snow swirl.
As Blizzard veered back onto a long stretch of grass, she sensed something beside her, and under the drum of Blizzard’s steps, she heard a low rumble—another animal on the run.
Sara said, “Lee-Lee—that you?”
“Roger that, girl,” a voice beside Megan answered.
Something snorted and blew snot into the air. Little Big.
“Richie?” Megan said. “You there?”
“I’m here,” Richie answered, his voice jittering.
Together, the two animals circled a glass butterfly house, and then veered past a brick building covered in a leafless web of ivy. As they ran across a garden, Blizzard left a three-foot-high flowerpot spinning like a top. At an outdoor food court, they toppled tables and knocked benches into the air. Closed umbrellas twirled like giant batons, and crumpled napkins and half-eaten hamburgers exploded from garbage cans.
As they headed back onto a main path, Megan heard a zipper open and turned to see a stack of paper spreading out behind Little Bighorn like the watery wake behind a speedboat. The flyers stuck to the sides of buildings, became entwined in bushes, and covered parts of the yard like fresh snow. In her head, Megan could see their words: “Free them or we will!”
The winding chain-link fence came into view, moonlight glinting on the diamond patterns of its woven wire. Their truck was still parked in the small gravel lot, its big door open and waiting. As Blizzard neared it, Sara said, “Duck!” and Megan pressed her forehead against the bear’s neck. She heard the rattle of flimsy steel, then a light piece of fencing skipped across her back. Blizzard pounded up the loading ramp into the trailer, and as he swung around in the hollow space, Megan saw what he’d done to the fence: a large steel piece was dangling off to one side, and an uprooted post was aimed at an angle toward the night sky like a telescope.
The truck continued to bounce and rattle on its springs as Little Bighorn made his way into the trailer. Megan slid down Blizzard’s side and felt Sara do the same.
“Everyone okay?” someone asked, and Megan turned to see Solana.
“I think so,” Megan said.
The benches rattled as the girls and Richie dropped into their former seats. They stayed invisible while waiting for the other Specters to arrive. Megan stared out through the open loading door at a few distant houses and couldn’t detect any activity.
A minute went by. Then another. Just when Megan worried that something might have happened to Kaleena and Jordynn, footsteps sounded against the loading ramp and the presence of the remaining Specters became obvious inside the trailer.
With everyone accounted for, Sara rapped her knuckles against the forward wall of the trailer. The driver door creaked open and then gravel crunched as Mike made his way to the back of the truck. He reached up, grabbed the nylon strap, and pulled the door closed, delivering the girls and Richie into perfect darkness.
As the truck pulled off onto the street, someone turned on the overhead lights. Megan opened the portal in her right pocket when she heard other Specters doing it. Within seconds, the chameleons were gone and everyone, including Blizzard and Little Bighorn, was visible once more.
Blizzard carefully lowered himself to his stomach and shifted his rump to one side to keep the weight off his injured leg. One of his patches of gauze was saturated in blood, the wound fresh again after his strenuous run. He rested his chin on his outstretched legs and half closed his eyes, his sides heaving up and down.
Megan slid down her seat, leaned over, and lovingly stroked the top of Blizzard’s long neck, prompting the bear to completely close his eyes.
Sara turned to Blizzard. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head, clearly disgusted by what had happened to him.
“What do you think they’ll do?” Solana asked out of the blue.
Sara turned her head and realized Solana was speaking to her. “Who?”
“The Outsiders,” Solana clarified. “When they find the flyers—what do you think they’ll do?”
Sara slouched in her chair and kicked her legs out straight. She grunted and said, “I could care less.”
Megan turned to Richie and briefly squeezed his hand. Then she tipped her head back against the wall, closed her eyes, and wondered about Noah and her best friend.
CHAPTER 39
THE CRABAQUARIUM
Noah swam into the aquarium, dim light revealing that a dark tunnel extended from the back of it. He found his way by patting the concrete walls around him. Something slimy struck his face, and he hoped it had been seaweed rather than the stinging tentacle of a jellyfish. Something pinched his pants—a crab. Noah dra
gged it along.
He needed air. He spotted a wavering point of light and swam to it with all his strength. Not a second too soon, he surfaced and sucked in a quick breath. He found himself waist deep in an aquarium that was easily a hundred feet long. One side, as big as a movie screen, was made of glass, and Noah looked out into a corridor that was like the others he’d seen.
As Ella surfaced beside him, another crab pinched his leg. Dozens of others were paddling around in the shallow water.
“Crabaquarium,” he breathed.
Another crab pinched him, this time breaking through to his flesh, and Noah batted it away with the back of his hand. He looked around for an exit and couldn’t find one. Then he walked to the front of the aquarium, put his hands on the glass, and pushed. The pane didn’t budge. “There’s no way out of here.”
Ella swiped her arm through the water at a crab that was getting too close. “Maybe we should go back.”
Before Noah could respond, a small steel door dropped across the mouth of the tunnel that they’d swum through. Then, from down the corridor, a shadowy figure came walking. A single torch revealed a man with a fedora hat and a long, flowing trench coat.
DeGraff.
CHAPTER 40
THE SHADOWS
The Shadowist walked down the corridor, his face concealed by the brim of his hat. He stopped in front of the scouts, less than ten feet away, and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. For what seemed a long time, he didn’t move. Then he walked forward and stopped less than a foot from the glass.
The scouts crowded against the back wall of the Secret Crabaquarium, Ella with her arms around Noah. The crabs continued to swim around, pinching at their legs.
“What do you want!” Noah yelled.
DeGraff only tipped his head to one side in a casual, curious way, as if he weren’t staring into an aquarium full of kids, but one with fish. He reached up a gloved hand and stroked his shadowy chin. Then he touched his palm to the glass and drummed his fingers against it.
