Raids and Rescues

by Bryan Chick

  Noah shrugged and continued to read the engravings. The forth cave was marked “Rhinorama,” and the fifth was marked “Clarksville Elementary.” He tried to read the words above the sixth and couldn’t—the fog was too thick, the tunnel too dark. As he took a step nearer, Marlo chirped his disapproval.

  “Relax,” Noah said to his kingfisher friend. “I just want to see.”

  He took another step, and then a third. He could make out the bottom word: “Giza.” He’d heard “Giza” before, but where?

  Something poked his rear end, and he spun around. Marlo had jumped off his shoulder and jabbed him with his beak. Now the kingfisher was flying through the fog back toward the muddy incline. He found a perch on the bumpy wall and chirped. His message was clear—he wanted everyone out of the Corridor of Portals.

  “He’s right,” Ella said. “DeGraff—he could already be on our trail again.”

  Noah glanced at the cave marked “Giza” and made out the word “of” above it.

  “‘Of Giza . . .’” Noah said. “Why is that so—?”

  “C’mon, already!” Ella insisted.

  Noah turned and fled.

  CHAPTER 45

  BACK AT POCKETS OF PORTALS

  Outside City Treats and Sector Sweets, what was left of a flood of water was dripping through the sewer grates. Jellyfish lay across the sidewalks, and a few crabs were crawling about.

  The chameleons began to make their way back to the old bakery—a few at first, then more and more. They crawled across the wet threshold and splashed through puddles, a thousand eyes turning in all directions.

  They headed through a door at the back of the building and stopped at the storage room, where the racks were still wet. Jellyfish lay across countertops, wrapped around the legs of chairs, and clung to the fabric of old aprons. A few dripped like snot from the rails of the racks. Beneath some of them, chameleons lay dead, victims of their stings.

  The chameleons moved into the room and began to clamber up the racks to their posts, committed as always to serving the Specters and the Secret Zoo.

  CHAPTER 46

  THE MIRAGE

  Marlo led them down several winding corridors which the scouts hadn’t seen before. In one, they had to duck into a dark corner to avoid being spotted by a pair of sasquatches. In another, beetles cracked and crunched like fortune cookies beneath their feet. As they turned into the long corridor leading to the City of Species, Noah realized that a torch was now burning and all the sasquatches were gone. Seconds later, he heard something behind them—the thump of boot heels and the flap and clap of long leather. DeGraff.

  Noah and Ella picked up speed, bugs scattering at their feet. The gateway neared to within forty feet, thirty feet, twenty feet. Noah felt something moving on his stomach and looked down to see a few wet chameleons crawling out of his portal pocket, which he must have left open. In the Streets of Transparency, something must have changed.

  As Marlo flew between the curtains and was gone, Noah wondered who was gathered around the portal. The Descenders, for sure, and certainly Mr. Darby. Just as Ella was about to take her turn, Noah suddenly had an idea and pulled her back.

  “Go without me!” he said.

  “What? What are you—”

  “Tell Mr. Darby I’m sending DeGraff.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Just do it!” Noah said. “Trust me. Mr. Darby will be there—tell him to get ready.”

  Ella hesitated, then turned and disappeared into the City of Species without another word.

  More and more chameleons were portaling through his pocket now, some crawling up Noah’s body and others falling to the floor. Once at least fifty were out, he closed his zipper and backed up against the wall beside the velvet curtains, hoping the chameleons would understand his intentions.

  “C’mon,” he breathed. “Work, work. . . .”

  He concentrated on what he wanted the lizards to do. Evie had been able to make herself look like Richie—a mirage, she had called it. “We think, they do,” she’d said. Maybe Noah could create an illusion as well, and make the portal to the City of Species vanish.

  The chameleons began to crawl onto the footholds in the stony wall and cling to folds of the curtains. As they spread out, Noah imagined what the corridor would look like if it didn’t end. Just a continuing stretch of darkness. More torches burning. More bugs scuttling and scrambling and flying.

  Seconds passed. Noah thought harder and harder, and tried to ignore DeGraff’s footfalls, which were louder than ever. Just when he worried that nothing would happen, he felt pressure just behind his forehead, and the chameleons came into extraordinary focus. He could plainly see their details—their colorful stripes, their bumpy skin, their bulbous eyes. And somehow, he could feel them. They suddenly seemed like extensions of himself, things he could control as easily as his own muscles. He concentrated harder on the wall and the curtain, and their colors began to swirl and fade. Within seconds, they were gone, and the bug-filled passage seemed to continue on.

  He knew he didn’t have much time. As he stepped away from the wall, he opened his right pocket, returning the chameleons on his body to the Portal Place and stripping his camouflage. Then he charged down the hall about thirty steps, turned, and deliberately dropped to the floor, hoping to give the appearance that he’d fallen. He did his best to ignore the bugs crawling over him and stayed focused on what he needed to do.

  DeGraff appeared from a hidden passage, his long, open trench coat flapping like a sheet hung out to dry. He was running faster than ever, which meant the Chamber of Lights hadn’t caused him serious harm. Noah clambered to his feet, pretended to slip to his knees, then rose again. Once DeGraff was only a few steps away, Noah charged forward.

  Panic rushed through him as he suddenly worried he might miss the curtain and crash into the wall. He kept to the middle of the corridor.

  When he glanced back and saw little more than a black glove with outstretched fingers, he lowered his head and ran faster than he ever had in his life. Then, just as DeGraff grabbed his shirt, the curtains swept across Noah’s body, sparking his nerves with their magic. Together, Noah and the Shadowist portaled into the City of Species.

  He wrestled out of the clutches of DeGraff and fell into the arms of a teenage boy with thick sideburns and a jumble of spikes on his shoulders. People and animals were crowded around, and they jumped when they saw DeGraff. Several lions pulled back their heads and roared, and snakes slithered all about.

  DeGraff had fallen and now lay on the ground, his arms drawn up to his face to protect it from the bright sunlight. He was moaning and writhing, his black boots marking the street.

  Three Descenders moved in to apprehend him: a woman with a long tail; a teenage boy with dozens of small suction cups on his hands; and a woman with extra legs and hooked arms, like those of a praying mantis.

  “Wait!” a familiar voice called out, and Noah turned to see Mr. Darby pushing through the crowd. Noah saw what Mr. Darby did: the sun was at the Descenders’ backs, and their shadows were stretched out in front of them, sliding across the street toward DeGraff.

  The Shadowist faced the Descenders and suddenly became still. Realizing his intentions, Noah jumped forward.

  “Stop!” Mr. Darby commanded.

  The Descenders did, but it was too late; their shadows had already fallen across DeGraff and onto the portal behind him.

  For a second, DeGraff smiled. Then he was gone—through their shadows and back into the Secret Creepy Critters.

  “Get him!” Mr. Darby commanded. “Go!”

  As the Descenders charged, the curtains fell from the rod and were swept into the building, which immediately closed on the vacant spot, stone bricks appearing from nowhere. The gold curtain rings bounced and clattered and rolled through the Descenders’ legs to rest in the street.

  Mr. Darby pushed through the crowd and slammed his fists against the place the portal had been. He set the top o
f his head against the bricks and stayed that way, his long beard dangling. His sunglasses slipped an inch or two down his nose and then dropped off altogether, landing by his feet.

  Noah simply stood there and watched. The City of Species fell silent—not a person spoke, not a bird chirped. The Descenders were deathly still. DeGraff had come to the Secret Society like a gift, and they’d failed to take him.

  After some time, Mr. Darby drew back his head, tipped up his chin, and sucked in a deep breath. At last, he turned, and as the scouts looked into his eyes, Noah felt his insides drop.

  His eyes were clouded by a milky white. As the old man turned to look at something, neither eye followed his movement.

  Mr. Darby looked like he was blind.

  The old man bent over, retrieved his sunglasses, and set them on his face. He reached out, grabbed the jacket of a nearby Descender, and pushed him with more strength than Noah would have believed possible. The Descender fell, shredding his jeans as he slid across the street.

  All at once, the other Descenders dropped, each to one knee, and bowed their heads, like servants before a king.

  “Fools!” Mr. Darby hollered. “He was right here”—he thrust a finger toward the ground—“and you failed to apprehend him!”

  He stepped away from the place the portal had been and moved through the crowd, his head slowly turning as he seemed to gaze at the kneeling Descenders.

  “Mr. Darby,” one of the Descenders said without lifting his face. “We didn’t—”

  “QUIET!” Mr. Darby turned to the Descender. “How is it that—”

  “Sir.” Another Descender spoke without daring to raise his eyes. “Tank, Sam, Tameron, Hannah—they’re all safe. Let’s not forget.”

  Noah held his breath, certain the interruption would lead Mr. Darby to lash out. Instead, the old man seemed to calm.

  “Yes,” he said after some time. His voice was more relaxed, as if he’d suddenly remembered who he was. “They are safe.” He waited a few seconds, then turned and split the crowd. Before he walked off in a rush, he said, “If only for now.”

  CHAPTER 47

  GOOD-BYE, FOR NOW

  Once Mr. Darby was gone, the Descenders rose to their feet and traded nervous whispers. A few stood around the place the portal had been, touching different parts of the wall.

  “Guys!”

  Noah turned to the voice, and his heart lifted when he saw his friends parting the crowd. Richie and Megan were riding Little Bighorn, and Solana and the four Specters from the other mission were walking beside Blizzard. The polar bear was limping, and he had blood-stained gauzes over his injuries from the school. He looked thinner and weaker, but very much alive.

  Noah and Ella ran to them, and instead of slowing down, Noah crashed into Blizzard, as if trying to tackle him. The mighty bear didn’t budge, and Noah’s arms wrapped around his thick, long neck. Noah’s heart was racing, and something other than blood was rushing through his body, warming his legs, his arms, his fingers. He felt his eyes water, and he blinked away his tears before the Descenders could notice.

  He pulled back his head for a good look at Blizzard and said, “I thought . . . I thought for sure I’d never see you again.”

  Blizzard curled up one side of his mouth and softly growled.

  “I . . .” But Noah didn’t know what to say, so instead he hugged Blizzard tight. Out of nowhere, he remembered himself as a small child, five years old perhaps. He saw himself standing in the underwater tunnel of the Polar Pool in the Clarksville Zoo, watching Blizzard swim just a few feet in front from him. At one point, the bear had set the pads of his meaty paws against the tunnel, and Noah had reached up and pressed his palms to the glass, so that nothing but a few inches separated them. At the time, Noah thought it would have been impossible to get closer to the mighty polar bear who lived just beyond his own backyard.

  How wrong he had been.

  Noah saw Ella hugging Little Bighorn, who had his neck curled around her, as if hugging her back. Richie was smiling and patting the rhino’s side. Marlo flew down and took his usual perch on Noah’s shoulder.

  “I haven’t forgotten about you,” Noah said. “Nice work in there.”

  Marlo chirped. Then he ruffled his wings and flew off again. Noah watched him go, the small kingfisher who had started this impossible adventure more than a year ago by tapping on Noah’s window late one night.

  Blizzard turned his head and licked Noah’s face, his enormous tongue nearly sweeping off Noah’s cap. Noah smiled and wiped away the wetness. Then he glanced at Megan and Richie, saying, “Did you have problems?”

  “Nothing like yours, apparently,” Richie said. “DeGraff—you almost had him!”

  Noah looked back at the place the portal had been. People were still standing around, rubbing their temples and shaking their heads. Two Descenders were having an argument, each blaming the other for what had happened.

  “But we got our friends,” Noah said. “And that’s what we went in there to do.”

  “That’s what Evie went in there to do,” Jordynn said, and Noah looked to see her frowning. “When things settle down, you can bet Darby’s going to want to talk to you guys about what you did today.”

  Noah nodded. He already knew the kind of trouble he might face.

  “I got your back,” Lee-Lee said. “Richie saved my butt out there—I’ll make sure Darby and everyone else knows about that.”

  When everyone looked at Richie, he blushed and looked away. Ella held her fist up toward Richie, who awkwardly bumped his knuckles against hers.

  “Where are they?” Noah asked. “Sam and Tank—those guys.”

  “There,” Sara said. She was pointing to a big wooden wagon attached to an elephant. Near it, Tameron was being loaded onto a stretcher by three men in white suits—emergency workers, Noah guessed. Sam and Tank stood near their friend, and Hannah was holding his hand.

  Megan and Richie slipped off Little Bighorn and the scouts quickly squeezed through the crowd and gathered around Tameron, who turned toward them and managed a slight smile. Ella hoisted Tameron’s backpack with both hands, saying, “Your pack—we got it.”

  Tameron raised his free hand a few inches toward Ella, who nervously took it. The teenager tried to say something, realized he couldn’t, and instead squeezed her fingers. Then he let his hand drop to his chest.

  Ella gave the pack to Hannah to hold for Tameron. The scouts moved aside for the emergency workers to hoist the stretcher, walk up a ramp, and secure the stretcher to the wagon. Hannah climbed aboard and kneeled beside her friend, again taking his hand. After a few seconds, the elephant trumpeted and the wagon pulled away.

  Noah realized for the first time how terrible Sam and Tank looked—dark, glassy eyes and sunken faces. He took a step toward them and said, “Guys—you okay?”

  Sam simply nodded, as if too exhausted for unnecessary words.

  “Tameron . . .” Noah said with a glance toward the wagon. “Will he . . . will he be all right?”

  “I think so.”

  As Sam suddenly lost his balance, Noah took a spot at his side and pulled the teenager’s arm over his shoulder. “C’mon,” he said as he took a step toward another elephant-drawn wagon. “Let’s get you to a doctor.”

  He led Sam up the ramp and then helped him into a seat. As he turned to walk off, Sam stopped him, saying, “Kid . . .”

  Noah turned. “Yeah?”

  Sam held his fist toward Noah, who bumped his knuckles against it.

  Noah felt a rush of pride. He tried to say something, but couldn’t gather the words. Instead, he just nodded and then headed down the ramp, where a scrawny-looking Tank was making his way up.

  “You look . . .” Noah’s voice trailed off as he searched for something other than the truth, which came out anyway. “Horrible.”

  Tank managed a joke: “Nothing a plate of cheeseburgers and a bucket of fries can’t fix. I’ll be okay,” he added, more seriously. “Thanks, my man.�
�

  Once Noah was back on the ground, one of the emergency workers motioned for Blizzard to come aboard. As he walked past, Noah hugged him a final time. Then the bear settled into a spot near Sam. The worker lifted the ramp, boarded the elephant, and sent the wagon off.

  As the scouts stood watching them go, Little Bighorn trotted up to them. Marlo swooped down again and perched on the tip of the rhino’s horn.

  Solana stepped over, touched Noah’s shoulder, and mouthed, Thanks.

  “Where’s Evie?” Ella suddenly asked. “And what about Elakshi?”

  “Hospital, already. And Evie’s gone,” Solana said. “The last place she wants to be is with a bunch of Descenders.”

  Noah thought to ask why, then decided against it. Right now, all he really wanted was to go home.

  As the scouts headed out across the City of Species, they waved good-bye to Solana, Noah feeling less triumphant than he had after previous adventures. He started thinking about Mr. Darby—his unexpected anger, his strange eyes, the way the Descenders had bowed to him.

  As the four friends hurried toward a portal that would take them home, Ella said, “We’re out of here.”

  And in Noah’s head, Mr. Darby’s voice echoed: “If only for now.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BRYAN CHICK is the author of the Secret Zoo series. He originally had the idea for the series when he was a nine-year-old and wondered what would happen if zoo exhibits had secret doors that allowed children to go inside . . . and the animals to come outside. Bryan Chick lives with his wife and three children in Clarkston, Michigan.

  www.thesecretzoo.com

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors and artists.

  CREDITS

  Cover art © 2013 by Justin Gerard

  Cover design by Paul Zakris

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used to advance the fictional narrative. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.