by Roland Smith
“Whoa!”
He whipped the spyglasses off and squinted across the lake at the building. The light was coming from the rooftop. He switched to the Gizmo screen and flew the dragonspy toward the light.
* * *
The light surprised Wolfe as well, and ticked him off. He had just stepped outside of his cage and was angry that he hadn’t tho even thought about there being motion detectors, which had no doubt triggered the lights. The birds and monkeys were shrieking louder than any alarm. The animals that couldn’t shriek were roaring and growling and rattling their steel cages, including the bearcat and Nine. Wolfe looked up at the cameras. Three of them were pointed right at him like guns. No use trying to hide. They’d track his every move. What he needed was some kind of weapon besides the now very dull egg knife. Butch would be there any moment. Wolfe broke a branch off a tree and tested it for heft. It wouldn’t be much use against Butch’s gun, but it was better than nothing. He proceeded to smash every surveillance camera within sight with his crude weapon.
Now what I need is a distraction. Something to occupy Butch’s attention.
He looked at the bearcat.
* * *
Marty was looking at the bearcat, too, over Wolfe’s shoulder, wondering what the heck it was, and what Wolfe was doing with the beast. It looked like he was trying to jimmy the door open and let the thing out, which seemed insane because the beast was trying to eat the stick and Wolfe’s arm. If he wanted to let it out, it would be easier to use the key code, but of course Wolfe didn’t have the key code. But Marty did, if, as he hoped, the key code was universal.
He buzzed Wolfe’s head with the dragonspy. Wolfe was so preoccupied with keeping his arm attached to his shoulder that he didn’t notice. Marty tried again, this time aiming for Wolfe’s left eye, veering away at the very last second just before he poked it out. That did the trick. Wolfe reeled back and stared at the bot hovering inches in front of his bearded face.
“Can you hear me?” he said.
Marty flew the bot up and down.
“I don’t have much time to talk because Butch is probably on his way up here to kill me. The others are locked up on the lowest level. Including Sylvia and Timothy …”
Marty burst into tears and missed the next several sentences, but he didn’t care. His parents were alive. He knew exactly where they were from Rose’s sketches. They were in one of the seventeen rooms on the lowest level of the building. He wiped the tears away and tuned back in.
“… the bearcat loose. I don’t think he’ll hurt me.”
The bearcat, as Wolfe called it, looked like it was going to kill him. Marty flew the dragonspy down to the keypad and tapped it.
“You know the code?”
Marty nodded the dragonspy up and down.
“One?”
Marty went through the yes/no routine, and after a short period of time he was able to give Wolfe the combination. Wolfe punched it in using the end of the stick, which didn’t seem nearly long enough to Marty. There was an audible click as he tapped in the last number. The door popped open about an inch. Wolfe backed away. The bearcat stopped snarling and stared suspiciously at the gap.
There was another click, but it was not from the gate. The click was the sound of a hammer being pulled back on a pistol. The pistol was held by Noah Blackwood. It was pointed at Wolfe’s head.
“Drop the stick.”
“Shoot me.”
The bearcat burst through the door snarling. Wolfe and Blackwood reeled backward.
Marty didn’t get to see what happened next because there was a third click. It didn’t come from the Gizmo speaker. It came from a few inches behind him. He turned. Butch McCall was pointing a gun at him.
Marty hit the OFF button. The Gizmo screen went blank.
“You think I’m stupid?”
Actually, Marty was one of the few people who didn’t think Butch was stupid. “Hardly,” he said. “You’re the one who managed to sneak up on me holding a gun. Did you see my headlamp?”
“No. I saw your little flying robot when I grabbed Grace and Dylan, and I figured you set me up and got inside. I’ve been stalking you for hours. Saw you freak out over the gator.”
“That wasn’t a normal gator,” Marty said.
“That was one of the small ones.”
“They don’t bother boats?” Marty asked, knowing that the longer he kept Butch talking, the longer he would live.
“Not usually. But it’s a little dicier at night when they feed. The trick is to keep the boat moving. If you stop, you’re dead.”
Two shots rang out from across the water. Marty jumped.
Butch glanced over at the light on the island. “Only two people with guns inside the compound,” he said. “Me and Blackwood. I’m here. That leaves Blackwood. I’d say your uncle is gone. What’d you see with that flying bot?”
“Noah was pointing a gun at Wolfe.” Marty saw no point in lying, or in telling the complete truth.
“Well, there you go,” Butch said. “I thought Noah had something more dramatic in mind than just shooting him. He must have gotten tired of having him around.”
Marty hoped this wasn’t true.
“Where’s your boat?” Marty asked.
“Not far.”
Marty didn’t like Butch’s noncommittal attitude. He looked across at the island. “So my parents are over there,” he said.
“That’s right, but you’re not going to see them.”
“Why not?” Marty asked, but he already knew the answer.
“Because this is the end of the line for you,” Butch said. “Believe me, I’m doing you a favor. The others are nothing more than lab rats. As soon as she gets done studying them, they’ll be sacrificed.”
“She?” Keep him talking, Marty thought.
“Violet,” Butch said. “A clone. A replacement for Rose, and Grace, since those two didn’t exactly work out. Noah got it right with Violet. She’s as scary as he is.”
Marty doubted Butch would be talking this way if Noah was there. Keep him talking.
“What does she look like?”
“Like Rose and Grace. Spitting image.”
“How old is she?”
“Eight. And I know what you’re doing!”
“What?”
“Getting me to talk so I don’t pull the trigger.”
“Busted,” Marty said. “But you can’t blame me for wanting to connect all the dots before —”
Something ran out of the dark toward them. Butch pointed his pistol at the noise. Marty was about to make a run for it when he realized that the something was the hatchlings.
“Stop!” He hit Butch’s arm.
The shot went wild. Butch backhanded him, knocking him to the ground. The stray bullet didn’t slow the hatchlings down. They ran in and started snapping around where Marty lay.
“What’s the matter with them?” Butch shouted.
Marty got to his feet. “I’d guess they’re hungry.”
Snap!
Marty dodged. “You didn’t have to knock me down. I saved your life. If you shot a hatchling, Noah would kill you.” He backed away toward the lake.
“No, you don’t!” Butch grabbed him by the collar and backed away with him.
Snap! Snap!
Marty felt water pour into his tennis shoes.
Snap!
Butch dropped the gun, swore, and grabbed his wrist. Marty took several steps away from him. The hatchlings followed him.
SNAP!
Butch screamed. Marty and the hatchlings were splattered in blood and gore. A giant gator had bitten Butch nearly in two and was hauling the pieces back into the lake.
Marty ran toward the tree line with the hatchlings close behind. When he got there, he put his hands on his knees to catch his breath and throw up. Fortunately, he’d only witnessed bits and pieces of Butch’s demise. The hatchlings seemed to have lost their appetite as well. They were staring at the lakeshore, no longer snapping.
“I’d stay away from the shore if I were you,” Marty said.
He felt something tickling his leg. He reached into his pocket and pulled the Gizmo out. Ted Bronson was making a video call.
“You got the comms working,” Marty said.
“I didn’t do anything. They just starting working. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Butch is dead.”
The explosion was much bigger than Buck had said it would be. The room shook and tilted, then the portholes blew out.
“Water!” Luther shouted unnecessarily. Everyone could see the water shooting into the room, which was going to change the plan that Laurel had slipped to them across the table on little scraps of paper.
Buck had made a fertilizer bomb to blow the door to the corridor in the chicken room. Doc, who was not nearly as sick and weak as he had pretended to be, was going to lead Jake, Buck, and Flanna through the blown door first with crude weapons to fend off anybody waiting for them. When the corridor was clear, the others would follow. Grace’s job was to lead them to the stairs. She knew exactly where they were because of her mother’s sketches.
“We’re all out of here together!” Doc shouted.
Ten people. Grace fell into line near the front behind Doc and Jake. Doc was carrying a long lead pipe he had torn from the wall. Jake was carrying a claw hammer. Not much defense against blowpipes, bows and arrows, and clubs.
The explosion had knocked out all the lights in the other rooms. Luther moved up to the front with the flashlight app on his cell phone. The chicken room was in shambles. The door to the corridor was gone, along with half the wall. They had to clamber over debris to get to the pitch-black corridor. They made it to the elevator, which was closed.
“The stairs are farther down,” Grace said.
“One good thing about it being dark,” Luther said. “They can’t see us.”
“But they can see your light,” Buck pointed out. “Hurry it along.”
They reached a door marked TREPPE.
“Stairs,” Grace translated.
“There’s a keypad and the door’s locked,” Luther added, shining a light on the pad.
“I think I just heard the elevator door open,” Sylvia said.
“Quiet,” Doc said. “Cut the light. Hug the wall.”
Voices echoed down the corridor. They were not speaking English. Flashlights came on. Everyone held their breath. The lights started moving away from them.
Luther’s cell phone rang.
Doc swore. The lights reversed course.
“Hello? … I’m glad to hear it, but we’ve got a little problem. Can’t really talk right now. We’re trying to get out of the basement, but the doors are … Really? Talk to you later.”
“That was Marty.” Luther turned his light on the keypad and punched in 6-6-2-4. The door clicked open. The stairway was lit.
“Go! Go! Go!” Doc started pushing people through the door. He stumbled through last with two arrows sticking out of his shoulder.
Jake wedged the claw hammer under the door a split second before the Trips slammed into it. The door held.
“Your arm,” Flanna said.
“I’m fine!” Doc insisted. “Let’s get up those stairs.”
Grace trotted up next to Luther. “Marty was on the phone?”
“Yeah. He’s on his way to the island in a boat. I didn’t catch everything he said, but I think he said Butch was dead.”
They reached another door.
“One more floor up to ground level,” Luther said.
“We have to find Wolfe before we leave,” Grace said.
No one said anything.
“I’m not leaving without him,” Grace said.
“I’m with you,” Luther said.
“Me, too,” Laurel said.
“We aren’t going anywhere without Wolfe,” Doc said. “We’ll find him together.” He was being helped up the stairs by Flanna and Jake. The arrows were still dangling out of his shoulder and he was actively bleeding.
“Not until we get those arrows out and patch you up,” Flanna said.
They reached the ground level. Buck pushed past everyone to the door. “I’ll pop out and see if the coast is clear.” He was gone before anyone could object.
Flanna and Jake made Doc sit down on the steps. Laurel knelt down to help them by yanking the arrows out before Doc could object.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry.” Laurel looked at the tips. “Doesn’t look like they’ve been dipped in poison. Can you make a fist?”
Doc made a fist and shook it at her. Everyone laughed, breaking the tension to some degree. Flanna tore the sleeve off his shirt and bound the wounds as best as she could.
Buck came back through the door. “I don’t see anybody. There are a lot of rooms to —”
The door beneath them opened and footsteps pounded up the steps. The group filed through the door quickly. Buck grabbed Doc’s lead pipe and rammed it under the door.
“It’s not going to hold for —”
The pipe went flying as the door burst open. Six angry Trips stepped out, weapons up. Behind them, six more Trips stepped out of the elevator.
Laurel shouted something at them. The Trips glanced at each other, but did not lower their weapons. She repeated whatever she had said, with the same results.
“I told them we were friends and that we meant them no harm. At least I think that’s what I said.”
Another shout came up from behind the Trips nearest the elevator. They immediately lowered their weapons, as did the Trips near the stairs.
“What you said was, ‘You are no friend of ours.’ ”
The Trips parted, letting through a little girl and Travis Wolfe. Wolfe had a bloody gash on the side of his head. Grace cried out when she saw him, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the little girl. Nor could anyone else.
“Who are you?” Grace asked, feeling her legs go weak.
The little girl smiled. “I am you.”
Marty jumped out of the inflatable, followed by the hatchlings, which had clambered aboard just as he was pulling away from shore. Surprisingly, they had ridden in the boat pretty well considering he had headed to the island at full throttle, afraid to slow down because of the giant gators. He ran up the steps to the building and punched in the code with his free hand. In his other hand was Butch’s pistol. He wasn’t sure what he was going to find on the other side of the door, but he was ready for whatever it was. The hatchlings shot past him through the opening. He followed with the pistol pointing the way. A couple of dozen people stood in the corridor. Half of them were covered in jaguar spots. The other half were covered in welts and gashes. The hatchlings had made a beeline to Luther and were dancing around him.
Wolfe walked up and gently took the pistol out of his hand.
“Where’s Noah Blackwood?” Marty asked.
“Dead,” Wolfe answered. “Killed by one of his own mutants, but it was a close run thing. Noah got a couple of shots into him before it tore his head off.”
Marty barely heard what Wolfe was saying. He scanned the people in the dark corridor. Jake and Flanna were cleaning up Doc’s arm with a first aid kit. Laurel was trying to speak to a group of Trips. Buck and Ana were sitting down, leaning against the wall. Grace was smiling, holding the hand of a little girl who could have been her sister. His parents were rushing toward him.
My parents.
He dropped to his knees and wept as they wrapped their arms around him.
… since Noah Blackwood and Butch McCall died. No one is sorry. In fact, most people don’t even know that Noah Blackwood is dead. He’s been on TV almost every day conducting interviews about the merger between his Arks and Northwest Zoo and Aquarium. Not even the director of NZA knows that the Noah Blackwood he’s dealing with is a copy by the name of Mr. Zwilling. Al Ikes set it all up. The government thought it was best to keep Noah Blackwood’s dealings over the past sixty years quiet. Zwilling was more than happy to c
ooperate. The alternative was going to prison forever.
I got a chance to meet Zwilling about a week after Noah died. Al flew him down to explain to the Trips that there had been a change of leadership inside the compound. Dr. Lansa is now in charge … at least temporarily until things settle down. Zwilling couldn’t have been nicer. He’s like Noah, but without the evil. He’s going to retire at the compound once the Arks are transferred to NZA. All he really wants to do is take care of the animals. Zwilling the Zookeeper. And there are plenty of animals to take care of on the rooftop, minus the bearcat. Noah shot the bearcat twice before it killed him. Wolfe tried to save the bearcat, but its injuries were too serious. Nine is still alive, though, and I spend as much time with him as I possibly can. Wolfe says Nine is not to be trusted or touched … ever. But yesterday I scratched him behind the ear. I told Marty about it this morning and he gave me a big lecture about risk taking (what a joke), then asked if he could try his hand at scratching the chupacabra.
Marty spends most of his time in the kitchen cooking for everyone, especially Sylvia and Timothy, who are fattening up nicely. I don’t think it will be too long before they take off on another adventure. The longest they had ever stayed in one place was when they were prisoners of Noah Blackwood. And they are restless.
When Marty isn’t cooking, he’s arguing with Luther and Dylan over their new graphic novel. I’ve asked him a couple of times what happened to Butch on the lakeshore. All he’ll say is that Butch got “chomped” by a giant gator. I’m wondering if that scene will make it into their book. Luther has made a few sketches of the alligator taking Butch, which is one of the things they argue about. Marty tells Luther that his drawings are not even close. Then Luther insists that Marty draw it. Marty shudders and says he can’t.
Luther’s parents paid a visit to the compound a few days ago. They arrived by helicopter and were here for about three hours and spent most of the time talking to Wolfe and Ted about business. Luther begged them not to send him back to OOPS, and they acquiesced after Wolfe promised to hire a tutor for all of us. Luther and the hatchlings are delighted with the decision. The hatchlings actually sleep with him at night. Once a day he takes them to the mainland to hunt and get exercise. I usually go with him to visit Laurel, who is living at the Trip village along with Jake, Flanna, Buck, and Agent Crow.
