by Bryan Chick
“I …” A long pause. “Forget it. I can’t think of a single witty thing to say. It’s like someone parked a truck on my brain.”
Hannah smiled. “Maybe next time, kid.” She playfully punched his leg and walked off, adding, “But probably not.”
Ella leaned back toward Richie. “Thanks a lot, dude. I feel way cooler now.”
The Descenders joined Tank and Mr. Darby and then retracted their gear. As Tameron’s armor spread apart and slipped away, his tail coiled back into his canvas pack.
“It still blows my mind,” Megan said as she watched the Descenders. “It’s like they’re superheroes.”
“And it’s like we’re superzeroes,” Ella groaned.
Tank and the Descenders walked off together. As Mr. Darby turned to leave, he waved his hand for the scouts to follow. “Come—we have something to show you.”
“Show us?” Richie muttered.
Noah glanced at his friend and shrugged his shoulders. “Guess we’ll find out.”
“Don’t we always?” Ella asked.
Blizzard plodded forward into the new unknown.
CHAPTER 23
THE CAMPOUT IN THE FOREST OF FLIGHT
Near the middle of the zoo, the group reached the Forest of Flight, a forty-feet-high birdhouse with a domed roof made of glass. Overhead, starlight sparkled on the clear, curved panes. As the Descenders pushed through the entrance, they held open the doors for the scouts, who were still perched high on Blizzard. All the scouts thought to duck except for Richie, who clunked his head on the doorway’s metal frame.
The open exhibit allowed people to walk among freely flying birds. The air was scented with the earthy aroma of soil and tree bark. Trees and flowery plants helped fill the space, and waterfalls spilled down rocky walls, bursting into mist along the way. Birds flew overhead and wove among branches. A medley of sounds ricocheted off the hard walls—water splashing, streams rumbling, and birds chirping and squawking.
“This way, everyone!” Mr. Darby called as he headed down a misty path that ran beside a tall rock formation made of concrete.
As Blizzard rounded the turn, the scouts came upon an incredible sight. A crowd of animals was gathered around a series of picnic benches. Covered with decorative cloths, the tables held cakes and cookies and ice cream. Ribbons and pennants dangled from the heights, and helium balloons were tied to benches, beams, and branches. Birds pulled long, colorful streamers through the air. Tied between two trees, an overhead banner read, “Congratulations, scouts!”
Ella turned to Mr. Darby. “Uhhh … in case you haven’t heard, we lost.”
“Only the lesser contest,” Mr. Darby said.
Ella scrunched up her face. “Huh?”
“You’ve been members of the Secret Society—Crossers—for a full year!”
With DeGraff moving on the Clarksville Zoo, Noah hardly thought it was a time for a celebration, and he told Mr. Darby so. The old man nodded in understanding, but said, “We must celebrate our triumphs—even more so in the face of such danger.”
“Makes sense to me,” Richie said as he eyed the treats on the tables. “Especially when there’s cake involved.”
Mr. Darby continued, “Besides, the zoo is fully guarded tonight, and we must give our trust to others in the Secret Society—our success depends on it.”
Blizzard lowered his rump and the scouts climbed off. As they headed down the path, the Descenders stepped up to congratulate them.
“Nice,” Sam said to Noah, clapping him on the shoulder as Noah walked past.
“Good work, kid,” Tameron said.
Hannah popped a bubble and playfully pushed the side of his head.
When Noah reached Solana, she winked at him. Noah thought to wink back and nervously decided against it. Instead, a smile found his lips.
Just beyond the Descenders was Tank. As the scouts walked by the big man, he held his fist out to each one of them, saying, “All right … all right, now,” and the four friends took turns punching his knuckles.
Most of the animals were ones the scouts had adventured with in the Secret Zoo. Dozens of prairie dogs raced about, curiously sniffing at things in their erratic paths: the grass, the tree trunks, the posts of steel railings. Chickadees weaved through streamers and perched along the interior landscape. Hummingbirds zipped back and forth and hovered, their needlelike beaks probing at flowers. Among several otters was Louie, with whom Noah had shared a Wotter Tower slide a year ago. And Marlo was in attendance, perched on a jug of lemonade.
Noah felt something poke his shoulder and turned to find Podgy, his flippers pressed flat against his bulbous body. Noah reached out and patted the emperor penguin’s large head.
“Come!” Mr. Darby said as he waved the scouts over to the picnic tables. “Please, let’s have dessert.”
Their group stepped cautiously through the prairie dog coterie and took seats at the tables. From across one bench seat, a portly prairie dog scampered up to Richie. P-Dog.
“Hey, you,” Richie said. He scooped him up and set him on the tabletop so the other scouts could take turns scratching his head.
“Is he still hurt?” Noah asked no one in particular.
Ella shrugged her shoulders and not-so-gently poked his side. “Seems okay to me.”
Tank cut the cake, Hannah scooped ice cream, and Mr. Darby passed out the plates. The scouts dug in. As Richie crammed cake into his mouth, he smeared chocolate across his face like war paint. This was much to the distaste of Ella, who wrinkled her nose and asked if he’d be more comfortable with a bowl on the ground. The Descenders also found seats. Noah couldn’t get over how strange it felt to see the teenagers eating cake and ice cream when, just minutes ago, they’d chased the scouts across the Secret Zoo in their magical forms. As they ate, Mr. Darby asked about the game, and the Crossers shared their stories, sometimes breaking into laughter.
As Ella served herself a second piece of cake, an unexpected visitor crawled onto the bench and took a seat beside her. Ko. The koala pointed her beady eyes and coal-black snout at Ella.
“What’s up, Ko?” Ella said with a smile as she scratched the spot between the koala’s round ears. Then she sliced off a piece of cake with her fork and poked it toward the animal. “Want some?”
Ko gave her fork a sniff, then wrinkled her nose and promptly pulled her head away.
“No worries,” Ella said. “I feel the same way about eucalyptus leaves.”
Solana was sitting on the opposite side of the table from Noah. He saw her high cheekbones, her dark eyes, her full lips. As he watched, Solana lifted her long hair off her shoulders and tossed it onto her back, revealing the skin of her neck like a secret. Her eyes suddenly shifted over to Noah, and she caught him staring at her. Noah quickly looked away, blushing.
After the cake was gone, the scouts left the table to spend time with their animal friends. Ella invited Ko to climb on her back, and the two of them broke off from the group to roam the exhibit, walking through streamers as they gazed around. Richie spent time with the prairie dogs, wrestling with them on the ground like a giant litter of puppies. Megan strolled through the trees, inviting hummingbirds and chickadees to perch on her fingers.
Noah played a version of tag with Louie that he only half understood. He’d chase the otter around until Louie decided he didn’t want to be chased anymore, at which point he’d run after Noah. Marlo kept perched on Noah’s shoulder the entire time.
When Noah chased Louie around a big boulder, he came upon Solana. She sat on a bench beside the winding walkway. Across from her was a concrete wall with holes that provided places for the birds to build nests—and to get to the Secret Zoo. When Solana saw him, he immediately stopped chasing Louie and straightened up. He suddenly felt like a fool—Solana had just caught him goofing around with an otter.
Solana said, “This is really the place that started it all for you, isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“The holes.” She tippe
d her head toward the wall. “The time when the birds came out and surrounded you. That was when this all started—for the scouts, I mean.”
Noah thought about this. “Yeah, I guess so. But how do you know about that?”
Solana grinned. “The Secret Zoo … it’s really not such a big place. Word spreads pretty quick.”
With Marlo still on his shoulder, Noah stood in silence, feeling stupid and not understanding why. Solana glanced at him. Twice. Three times.
“Why don’t you sit down?” she said at last, her stare fixed on the wall. “You’re making me nervous just standing there.”
Noah looked around for a place to sit. The only vacant spot was the one next to Solana. Was she inviting him to sit beside her? So … close?
Solana glanced back again. “I don’t bite,” she said. “Not often, anyway.”
Realizing how foolish he was acting, Noah rushed over and dropped down on the bench—a bit too firmly, however, as Solana shook, and Marlo chirped and ruffled his feathers in surprise.
“Oops,” Noah said. “Sorry.”
Solana smiled. “You talking to me or the bird?”
He didn’t know what to say. He turned to her and smiled back.
Solana lifted her gaze to the top of Noah’s head. “Where did you get that thing?”
“Huh?” Noah asked. “My … head?”
Solana’s smile widened. “Your hat.”
“Oh,” Noah said. “The Secret Zoo. Arctic Town. The animals … they gave it to me.”
Solana continued to stare at the hat. Her silence made him uncomfortable.
Noah said, “Is there something wrong with it?”
Solana shook her head. “It’s just kind of goofy. It makes you look like a little kid.”
The thought worried him. He could suddenly feel the hat on his head—its weight, the press of its poofy insulation, the dangle of its droopy earflaps. He’d never cared about what it looked like; he’d simply appreciated its warmth and comfort. Now he hated it. He wanted to rip it off his head and chuck it into a hole in the wall, sending it back to the Secret Zoo.
Solana reached for his hat and paused. “Can I?” When Noah didn’t object, she stripped off the cap and dropped it on his lap. Then, with a quick sweep of her hand, she lifted Noah’s long bangs out of his eyes. Noah became acutely aware of her touch and a strange, sudden panic coursed through him.
“There,” she said. “Better.”
Ella suddenly strolled past with Ko and spotted Noah sharing the bench with Solana. She stopped, raised an eyebrow, and very loudly said, “Are you kidding me?” before walking off.
“What was that all about?” Solana asked.
“Beats me,” Noah lied. “She’s weird sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Maybe all the time, I guess.”
Solana laughed and playfully swatted Noah’s leg. Then she rose from the bench and said, “I’m going to check on Hannah,” and walked off. As Noah watched her go, he recalled the way her touch on his leg had felt—the way it had made his skin tingle and his insides churn.
Ella jumped out from behind a nearby rock wall. “Please tell me you don’t have a crush on that chick.”
Noah sat up with a jolt and felt his face flush. “What? You got to be—”
“She’s too old for you,” Ella reminded him. “And she lives in another world. And she has quills … you know … like a porcupine.”
“We were … talking!” Noah protested.
“Uh-huh,” Ella said skeptically. She turned and walked off in the same direction as Solana, her ponytail slapping her shoulders in a way that seemed to show her disapproval. Noah rose from the bench, put on his hat, and followed her, careful to stay back far enough to not invite any more conversation.
Back at the camp, Noah rejoined the others, and over the next half hour, the animals began to fall asleep. The prairie dogs curled into balls, and the chickadees huddled in the trees. Blizzard slept on his stomach, his hind legs perched high and his cold snout buried in his outstretched paws. Podgy dozed on his feet, his bill tucked against the side of his body. The hummingbirds perched on the branches, their feathers fluffed out.
When Mr. Darby announced it was time to get some rest, the Descenders walked off and returned with sleeping bags, backpacks, and pillows, which they tossed to the scouts. They divided into two groups—boys and girls—and changed into pajamas on opposite sides of a tall concrete rock formation. Tank and the Descenders headed back wearing baggy sweats and tight T-shirts. Noah, Ella, and Megan wore loose-fitting, two-piece pajamas. Mr. Darby wore velvet pajamas, slippers, and his dark sunglasses.
As Ella unrolled her sleeping bag, she smiled at Mr. Darby and said, “Whoa—Mr. D in pj’s! There’s something I never thought I’d see!”
“I consider it sleepwear,” Mr. Darby said with a grin. “Comfortable, but dignified.”
Noah found it bizarre that Mr. Darby still wore his sunglasses. Just as he readied a question about it, Richie returned to the site and distracted him. His friend was dressed in one-piece, footed pajamas. They were as shockingly red as his winter hat, which he still had on. Embarrassment washed over Noah: his best friend looked like a young, freshly shaven Santa Claus. Noah glanced at Solana. She was giggling and softly shaking her head.
As Richie walked over to his friends with his sleeping bag tucked under his arm, Ella leaned over and whispered, “Honestly—you couldn’t go one night without the footsies?”
“What’s the big deal?” Richie asked. “You want my toes to get cold?”
He unrolled his sleeping bag between Noah and Ella. On it was an enormous picture of Han Solo, his big-barreled blaster aimed straight ahead.
“Han Solo …” Ella said. “Are you kidding me?”
“What?” Richie said, a little hurt. “Han was the only member of the Rebel Alliance that ever really mattered. Besides Chewie, of course.”
The scouts lay on top of their sleeping bags: Noah beside Richie, beside Ella, beside Megan. On their backs, they stared into the treetops at the chickadees and hummingbirds, which speckled the branches with color.
As Mr. Darby and the Descenders lay on their sleeping bags, Tank walked off, his mammoth muscles quaking beneath his loose-fitting pajamas. He disappeared behind some trees, then the lights in the Forest of Flight blinked out. With the entire building surrendered to darkness, the night sky beyond the glass dome seemed to light up. Hundreds of stars filled the scouts’ view.
“Whoa …,” Megan said.
“Totally, totally awesome!” Ella agreed.
“The light that helps us see only blinds us from what is there,” Mr. Darby said. “True irony.”
Tank returned and dropped into his sleeping bag. The group quickly fell into silence. P-Dog curled into a ball near Richie’s legs. Ko crawled up and took a spot between Ella and Megan. Marlo swooped down and perched on Noah’s leg.
Blizzard yawned and plodded over to Noah. He lay beside him, his coal-black nose a few feet from Noah’s face. Blizzard slid his leg across the grassy floor and stopped his meaty paw just inches from Noah. As Noah placed his palm against it, the bear slid his paw away.
Noah twitched with surprise. It was as if Blizzard had meant to give Noah’s hand a high five. Smiling, Noah closed his eyes. Within minutes his rambling thoughts settled on Solana. He saw her face, her eyes, her skin. He saw her flip her long, dark hair over her shoulder. He felt her touch.
After a few deep breaths, Noah fell asleep. As he did, he brought Solana—his first real crush—into the world of his dreams.
CHAPTER 24
THE WEIGHT OF EVIE’S PAST
As the scouts slept beneath the starry view in the Forest of Flight, six young teenage girls walked along the neighborhood streets, the magic of chameleons keeping them in perfect camouflage. They moved like ghosts. Specters. Jordynn was watching the western wall. Elakshi and Lee-Lee, the southern wall. Kaleena, the northern wall. And Evie and Sara, the eastern wall.
Evie became bored and took a seat on the front of a car. A few chameleons jumped down, and she watched spots on the hood swirl and swell as the magic reptiles adjusted to the new surface.
Something nearby slammed shut and she jumped back to the street, startled. To her right, a middle-aged man stood outside his front door. The porch light revealed a briefcase in his one hand and a steamy mug in the other. He yawned, stretched, then walked down the sidewalk. At the end of his driveway, he headed to his car, which was the one Evie had been sitting on. The Specter backed into the middle of the street and watched, knowing she was invisible to him.
His face was freshly shaven, and he smelled like musk and spices—strange aromas that Outsiders put on their skin. He wore a stiff-looking jacket and an irritated expression: eyebrows pulled down, lips pursed tight. Evie imagined what bothered him. Being forced to wake early? Having to report to work? His brief walk through the cold?
Anger coursed through her. This man hadn’t earned the right to be troubled. He couldn’t imagine what Evie and the other Specters had been through, the savagery they’d experienced. Outsiders knew nothing of real pain.
As the man walked past, she reached out and tapped the bottom of his mug. Hot coffee splashed over the brim and streamed down his fingers. He dropped his briefcase, switched the mug to his other hand, and shook the heat off his skin. He cursed under his breath and leaned over for his briefcase. As he did, Evie moved behind him and kicked the case, which slid forward about two feet and stopped, still standing on end.
The man lurched back and stared all around.
Evie smiled. Being a Specter could sometimes be fun.
He set his mug on the roof of his car, leaned over, and watched the briefcase, his eyes wide, his mouth in a worried frown. He poked a finger forward, touched the briefcase, then pulled back his hand. Nothing happened. As he reached for the case a second time, Evie kicked it, sliding it forward again.
