The secret zoo, p.11
The Secret Zoo, page 11
“Bliz, I’m scared.”
The polar bear looked at Noah in a way that showed he understood.
Noah walked to his window. He glanced toward Fort Scout and thought about everything that had brought him to this point. He remembered the clues that had led him to the Secret Zoo—the flyer that Marlo had dropped in his room, and the pages from Megan’s diary that the animals had secretly delivered. He thought of walking through the Library of the Secret Society, and of his time in Metr-APE-olis, swinging from the hands of apes like a circus performer on a trapeze. He remembered learning the truth about the Descenders: Sam and his feathery wings; Tameron and his powerful tail; Hannah and her magical boots; Solana and her quills.
Solana. In Noah’s thoughts, she jumped forward. Noah saw her long dark hair, her soft skin. He remembered the time in the Forest of Flight when they’d sat so close on a bench—the way the side of her leg had felt pressed against his. Then he remembered how Ella had approached him later, her arms crossed and her face full of disapproval. She’s too old for you, she’d said. And she has quills…like a porcupine.
Noah smiled and thought about his friends. Ella, a sarcastic tomboy with an all-pink wardrobe. Richie, a proud nerd with books stored in his brain. Megan, his sister, a girl he’d shared a lifetime with.
He looked out at his neighborhood, the only world he’d known until discovering the Secret Zoo. He imagined DeGraff’s animals storming down his street, sasquatches breaking down doors and attacking. How many lives were at risk? People Noah knew and loved.
He listened again to the sounds downstairs: Mr. Darby’s muffled voice, the rumble of footsteps. The Secret Society was planning, preparing. Noah’s idea would work—it would work because it had to.
He felt a sudden, sharp pain in his palm and glanced at his hand. The towel was partly covered in blood, and he could still feel the burn from the firefly.
Something thumped against his bedroom floor, and Noah jumped. He was relieved to see Blizzard stretched out, his soft belly pressed to the carpet. Noah, realizing how tired he was, lay down and leaned against the polar bear. Remembering what Mr. Darby had said about resting, Noah nestled into a more comfortable spot, making a pillow in Blizzard’s furry side. Within seconds, his eyes started to close. Instead of fighting it, he took a deep breath and accepted what his body needed to do.
*
“Wait!” Ella said as she stepped out onto her front porch.
“What’s wrong?” Evie whispered. The two had just talked to Mr. Darby and were now on their way to Noah’s house, their bodies camouflaged by the chameleons.
“I have to do something,” Ella said, and she made her way back inside.
“Do what?” Evie called out.
But Ella was already halfway up the stairs, stepping in the spots that didn’t creak. She walked into her mother’s room, tiptoed across the floor, and then stood beside the bed.
Her mother was sleeping a deep sleep, the kind Ella hadn’t known for a while, not since becoming a Crosser and beginning her double life, lying to the people she loved.
Memories of times spent with her mother played in Ella’s head. Going for ice cream after soccer games. Matinee movies on rainy days. Long talks at night while her mother sat on the edge of Ella’s bed. Her mother. The woman who had fed her, clothed her. The woman who had taught her what it meant to be loved.
A cool draft moved through the room, and as Ella’s mother rolled over in her sleep, her blanket slipped off her arm. Ella waited and watched. When her mother didn’t stir again, Ella grabbed the blanket and gently pulled it up. Then she leaned across the bed. And because she couldn’t risk waking her mother by kissing her cheek, she gently kissed her shoulder instead.
I love you, Mom, she mouthed.
She stood up straight and felt the sadness in her smile. Then she turned and fled the room, worried she’d never see the person she loved most in this world again.
*
Richie paused at his parents’ room and stared through the doorway. His mom and dad were fast asleep.
Tank grabbed Richie’s arm and whispered, “C’mon.”
Richie nodded, forgetting that Tank couldn’t see him because they’d camouflaged themselves in order to sneak out of the house. Then he turned his attention back to his parents. It seemed crazy that he’d been able to sneak around, in and out of two worlds, for more than a year without his parents knowing. And it felt deceitful. A part of him wanted to wake his mom and dad and tell them everything. It would be nice to be honest for a change. But Richie knew he couldn’t. As incredible as it still seemed, Richie, a boy from the small city of Clarksville, had two worlds to save.
“Guys…” Richie whispered, “I love you.”
He waited, partly hoping his mother or father might wake up and see him—stop him from doing what he now needed to do. But they didn’t, and after a few seconds, Tank squeezed his arm and gently pulled him down the hall.
The two walked down the stairs and into the living room. As they headed for the front door, Richie saw the couch and thought of all the times his family had gathered to talk, laugh, and worry when things weren’t going right. Richie would sometimes cuddle up to them, even in recent years.
His gaze wandered to other things in the room. The family pictures that never seemed to hang straight. The brown stains on the carpet from Richie’s muddy shoes. The ugly lamp that shined too bright. Things made perfect by their imperfections. Little pieces of a bigger puzzle—a place called home. Richie worried it would go away if he walked out the door.
“Richie,” Tank said, “we have to go.”
Richie turned his attention to the front door, which was partly open.
“Little man,” Tank said, “we need you.”
Richie thought about how much he meant to his parents. Then he stepped onto the porch and gently closed the door behind him. As he and Tank walked across his front yard, Richie’s head filled with memories of his family. And as they headed down the street, Richie found himself repeatedly glancing back. His house grew smaller and smaller. And before long, it faded into darkness, just like Richie feared it would.
Chapter 17
ity T ea s nd Se t r we s
As Lee-Lee, still in camouflage, approached the small building that had once been a bakery in the Streets of Transparency, she looked up at the storefront sign: ITY T EA S ND SE T R WE S. A few of the letters that spelled City Treats and Sector Sweets appeared to be missing because chameleons were camouflaging them as they crawled over the sign and the rest of the store. The Specter made her way onto the porch, carefully tiptoeing into open spots between the chameleons and hoping not to step on any that weren’t visible. Then she moved through the door and across the old bakery, where hundreds of chameleons covered the counter, the ovens, and the registers, and filled the glass cabinets that had held baked goods many years ago.
She quickly made her way to the small room in the back of the store. As she stood just inside the doorway, she surveyed the space: forty-eight canvas sacks hanging from steel storage racks, and hundreds of chameleons crawling around. Once used to hold flour, the sacks were now magically connected to the pockets in the Specters’ pants.
Lee-Lee fixed her gaze on the sacks. She waited, knowing the signal from Jordynn should be coming soon, and wondering if Noah’s outlandish plan to save her world could possibly work.
Chapter 18
11:34
“Noah, wake up.”
Noah opened one eye and realized he was lying on his back, his head resting against the furry mound of Blizzard’s side. Someone was standing over him. Sam.
“You better get ready,” Sam said.
Noah pushed himself up to a seated position and almost screamed at the sudden pain in his hand. He saw the bloody hand towel and remembered what had happened in the kitchen. He quickly got to his feet.
“Here,” Sam said. He handed over Tameron’s backpack and walked out of the bedroom.
Noah slipped his arms through the straps and felt the now familiar weight of the pack. Blizzard quickly got up. Marlo sprang off the windowsill and took up his usual perch on Noah’s shoulder.
“You ready, Bliz?”
The big bear fixed his dark eyes on Noah and grunted.
Noah spotted his watch on the nearby desk and put it on, thinking he might need it. As he headed out of his bedroom, Blizzard followed closely, his weight bending the boards beneath their feet. Noah walked down four or five steps and suddenly stopped when his view opened to the scene on the first floor. Tarsiers were clinging to kitchen cabinets and dangling from appliances. Podgy was waddling around, his flippers softly wagging. And P-Dog and the other prairie dogs were sniffing scents out of the carpet. The wall between the kitchen and living room still appeared to be missing—the work of the chameleons.
Noah turned his attention to a familiar voice and saw Tank. The big man was leaning against one wall, his arms crossed and his muscles bulging. Noah headed toward the living room, Blizzard following, and saw the other scouts. At a time when everything was changing at a dizzying rate, they were the one constant, and Noah was thankful for it.
Ella walked up to him, grabbed his wrist, and looked at the bloody towel on his hand.
“It’s okay,” Noah said. “Has anyone told you our plan?”
Ella nodded. “Mr. Darby.”
“Where’s Evie?”
“She left. She’s helping the other Specters place the mods.”
“Except for Lee-Lee and Jordynn,” Noah corrected, knowing the two Specters were part of his plan.
He looked toward the portal and saw the group of Descenders guarding it. The curtain was blowing in the wind, allowing the sounds and smells of the City of Species to continue to invade the house. Noah saw glimpses of silhouettes and the red eyes of the animals—pairs of glowing dots floating in the dim light. Inside the Secret Zoo, groups of animals appeared to be moving in specific directions.
“Mr. Darby?” Noah said, and the name came out like a question.
Mr. Darby, who wasn’t standing far from the scouts, looked at Noah. “Yes?”
“Something…something’s happening.”
When Mr. Darby saw what Noah did, he quickly made his way into the kitchen. The scouts followed, stepping over the prairie dogs in their path. At the portal, the old man pulled back the entire curtain. The animals were flooding into the various sectors, and it was obvious where they were headed. The Clarksville Zoo.
Blizzard squeezed into a spot between Noah and Richie. Tank and other Descenders loomed behind the scouts. Even the tarsiers were watching from their places on the kitchen cabinets.
Mr. Darby checked his pocket watch and said, “Eleven thirty-seven.” He looked back at the red-eyed animals walking across the streets and streams. “It’s happening.” He touched the transmit button on his headset and said, “Evie—DeGraff is staging his army. What’s the status on the mods?”
“We have more than half in place.”
“Then move faster. Midnight’s almost here.”
“We already—”
“Move faster, Evie! Find a way!” Mr. Darby turned to Tank and said, “You’re in charge now.”
Noah saw something on Tank’s face that he almost never did. Worry.
“Mr. D,” Tank said, “what are you going to do?”
“What Noah planned for us to do. It starts with distracting DeGraff.”
The creator of the Secret Zoo frowned. He glanced at Noah, Megan, Sam. Then he marched through the portal and into the City of Species.
Chapter 19
11:38
Noah just stood there, unsure what to think. He stared straight ahead and caught glimpses of Mr. Darby, the end of his long jacket sweeping along the wet streets. When the old man cupped his hands to his mouth and hollered “DeGraff!” his voice crossed the threshold between the two worlds and echoed in Noah’s kitchen. A few startled tarsiers jumped down from the cabinets, and prairie dogs scattered.
“Sam,” Tank said, “I’ll radio Zak when we get inside. As soon as he’s ready, I need you to go to Teknikal Tower and get the Primary Portal. Zak will be on the twenty-third floor. Fly by the window, and I’ll have Zak toss the curtain to you. The mod, too. Get straight to Koala Kastle and hang it in the courtyard.”
Sam nodded.
“Be quick about it,” the big man added. He glanced out at the city—at Mr. Darby crossing the streets and at the groups of monstrous animals, which didn’t seem interested in Mr. Darby as they headed into the various sectors.
Mr. Darby’s voice echoed in the kitchen as he called out for DeGraff once more. Noah caught another glimpse of the old man, the leader of a hidden world where penguins can fly and animals share the streets with people.
“Everyone know the plan?” Tank asked as he glanced at Noah to signify whose plan it was.
The Crossers nodded and exchanged worried looks. Noah adjusted his backpack.
“Good,” Tank said. “Then let’s go.”
The big man turned and walked through the portal. And everyone followed.
Chapter 20
11:39
The Crossers gathered just beyond the portal and watched Mr. Darby walk deeper into the Secret Zoo. Dark storm clouds loomed overhead, leaving everything in silhouette and shadow. The monstrous animals were flooding into the sectors, and the tall trees shook as thousands of sick birds jumped from branch to branch. The once colorful leaves were now wilted and weak. It chilled Noah to think that the City of Species might soon look as desolate and dead as the Dark Lands, the sector the sasquatches had once occupied. He could feel DeGraff’s magic in the air—he could feel it in his heart and mind, an actual weight that would eventually crush the goodness in Noah, given enough time.
“We need to guard this portal,” Tank said, gesturing to the one that opened to Noah’s kitchen. He motioned to the Descenders and said, “Make sure nothing gets through.”
A group of Descenders spread out along the wide curtain, their animal powers ready to strike. Blizzard moved into position as well.
“Zak—you ready?”
Noah realized Tank was talking into his radio.
“Now?” Noah was able to hear Zak in his headset—his voice and his surprise. “No! I need at least ten minutes!”
“You got five,” Tank said. “Look out the window.”
The airwaves went silent. Then Zak said, “What’s Darby doing?”
“He’s going after DeGraff. This is happening now.”
A few seconds passed without a response. Then Zak said, “Okay, five minutes.”
“I’ll send Sam to your window,” Tank said. “It’s the quickest way.”
“Roger,” Zak said. And then the airwaves stayed silent.
Tank turned to Jordynn, the only Specter still with the group, and the scouts. “Get into camo, and somebody ghost me.”
As the scouts opened their pockets and allowed the chameleons to crawl out onto them, Jordynn walked over to Tank and shared some of her chameleons with him. Their bodies started to blur, and then seemed to disappear altogether. On Noah’s shoulder, Marlo also blended into the surroundings.
“Head for the coffee shop,” Tank said.
Lots of Latte was about a hundred yards away. As Noah headed in that direction, he kept his attention on Mr. Darby. The old man raised his arms and shouted, “I’m here, old friend!”
Friend. Never had the term been more untrue. DeGraff and Mr. Darby wanted each other dead—they’d wanted it for more than a lifetime.
A long fountain in the middle of the street had a waist-high wall. Mr. Darby climbed onto it and began to walk along the ledge, his arms out to his sides and his voice louder than ever: “I’m here, DeGraff! Why do you hide?” The animals plowing into the sectors continued to ignore him.
Noah suddenly remembered his parents and said, “Megan—did you see where they took Mom and Dad?”
“No. All the noise and animals—and it was so dark!”
Mr. Darby continued to call out his rival’s name. He turned a slow circle on the ledge of the fountain and hollered, “Let’s end this!”
Just then, a figure jumped up from the water and grabbed Mr. Darby’s legs. DeGraff. He pulled the old man into the fountain, splashing water everywhere. Then he pounced on his victim, and both men disappeared behind the short wall.
“Mr. Darby!” Ella screamed.
“Quiet!” Tank said. “This is what he wants.”
“To die?” Ella asked.
Tank shook his head. “To battle.”
Mr. Darby appeared in the waist-high water about fifty feet away from DeGraff. Noah had no idea how he’d managed to slip away from the Shadowist. DeGraff looked down at himself and peeled a wet leaf off his jacket. Then he straightened his fedora and smiled, the old wounds on his face spreading in a grotesque way. “Clever,” he said.
“You can’t do this,” Mr. Darby said.
DeGraff laughed, and it was a sickening sound—noise bubbling up from his chest. “Stand proud, old man. Let’s not end this in clichés.”
“You mistake me,” Mr. Darby said. “I mean you can’t do this. I won’t let you.”
DeGraff laughed harder this time. “Look around, fool! You’ve already lost.”
“Have I?” Mr. Darby said. He raised his arms out to his sides again and added, “I’m still standing.”
“Yes,” DeGraff said. “But not for long.”
The Shadowist disappeared, leaving ripples in the water where he’d stood. He immediately jumped up behind Mr. Darby, but as he attacked, Mr. Darby leaned over, and Noah witnessed a new impossible: Mr. Darby’s jacket changed form. It rounded outward, and the fabric became hard and smooth, a shiny surface with a pattern of connected shapes. A shell. DeGraff tried to grab on to the surface, but couldn’t, and Mr. Darby swung around, easily slipping out of his grasp. Then he stood up straight and the shell changed back into his normal jacket.
