The secret zoo, p.5
The Secret Zoo, page 5
Ella was still staring blankly into space, clearly lost in her own thoughts.
“Ella,” Megan said just above a whisper. “Ella!”
No response. Behind the whiteboard, the legs inched forward. Whatever was behind the metal frame wasn’t going to stay a secret for long.
Megan jumped to her feet and did her best to look casual as she walked to the front of the class. Mrs. Simons paused at the distraction, then resumed teaching. Megan swiped the bathroom pass off her teacher’s desk and headed for the door, shooting Ella a worried look on the way. In the hall, she found an empty bathroom. Inside, she opened a pocket on her Specter pants, and chameleons began to crawl out onto her body. She felt the patter and prick of their feet along her legs, her torso, her arms. The chameleons’ colors began to swirl and blur, and within seconds, Megan was blended into the world around her.
She peeked out the bathroom door, saw no one, and slipped into the hall. Then she ran back to her class and paused outside the open door to look herself over. Perfectly camouflaged. She stepped into the room.
Mrs. Simons was calling on students, asking for input in solving an equation on the board. Ella was staring out into the hall, clearly worried about Megan. Ella couldn’t see her—and that meant no one could.
Megan silently walked to the front of the class. More of the legs of the insect, whatever it was, were showing now. It didn’t look like the other students in the room had noticed.
She slowly walked to the board. Seconds later, she was behind the long desk at the front of the class, her teacher only a few steps away. If she could get a small chameleon to latch onto the insect, the chameleon would know to camouflage it. Then Megan could grab both creatures and take them out of the room.
“Who else has an idea?” Mrs. Simons asked, and it seemed like she was responding to Megan’s thoughts.
In the back of the room, Peter Ryan raised his hand.
“Yes, Peter,” Mrs. Simons said. As she turned and took a step toward Peter, Megan slipped in behind her. She grabbed a tiny chameleon off her shoulder, reached for the top of the whiteboard, and panicked when her hand stopped a few inches short. She stood on the tips of her toes and stretched as far as she could. It wasn’t enough.
“That’s possible, Peter,” Mrs. Simons said. “Can you explain yourself a bit?”
Her teacher had taken another step away from her desk. The students who weren’t staring off into space were scribbling on their papers, either doodling or taking notes. Megan noticed Mrs. Simons’s padded chair, which sat on five rollers. If she could get it closer to the wall, she might be able to stand on it and reach the top of the whiteboard.
She grabbed the chair and slowly rolled it back a few inches. She paused and watched the class—no one had noticed. She rolled it back a few more inches, and then a few more. Mrs. Simons had walked over to Peter, who was now pointing out something in his textbook. Megan stopped rolling the chair when the back of it touched the wall.
Go! a voice inside her said.
She carefully stood on the chair and faced the whiteboard. She could now see most of the creature. It had dozens of orange legs and a brown segmented body. It wasn’t an insect—it was an arthropod, a giant centipede, and the scouts had had encounters with them before. Wondering how it had gotten behind the whiteboard, Megan looked around until she saw a wide crack in a ceiling tile. At some point before class, the centipede must have fallen through and landed on the whiteboard, and now it couldn’t get down.
“That’s close, Peter,” Mrs. Simons said. “But let me show you something.”
Mrs. Simons was walking to the front of the room.
Megan reached out and dropped the chameleon on the centipede, which quickly began to disappear. The centipede, still barely visible, squirmed and fell off the whiteboard, the chameleon clinging to its back. Megan instinctively reached for the creatures, but she lost her balance and the chair rolled out from beneath her, crashing into the teacher’s desk.
Mrs. Simons stopped in mid-sentence, and the room fell silent. Megan lay on the floor, her side aching and her heart racing. To her left was the wall with the whiteboard, and to her right were the desks of the first row of students. She glanced up and saw the worried expressions of Quinn Neubert, Tina Garner, and Stella Diehl. The sixth graders were staring at Mrs. Simons’s chair as if it had just rolled off a spaceship.
Megan noticed a ghostly shape in front of the wall. The chameleon had fallen off the centipede, which was now slowly coming out of its camouflage.
“Who did that?” Mrs. Simons said, and Megan realized she was talking about her chair.
Before the centipede could come into full view, the chameleon pounced on it, blending it back into its surroundings.
Quinn stared in Megan’s direction, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open. He glanced at Tina and Stella and said, “Did you see that?” But the girls were focused on Mrs. Simons, who was still trying to figure out who had kicked her chair.
Megan got up as quietly as she could and grabbed the centipede by pinching a spot behind its head. Then she quickly walked out of the room and stood in the hall, unsure what to do. Could she hide the centipede somewhere? Her locker? If only she could get to a portal to the Secret Zoo.
An idea struck her. A portal. She remembered how the scouts had used their Specter pants to drain the water out of the barricaded hallway in the Secret Creepy Critters. Her pockets connected to the Secret Zoo!
The hall was empty. She opened the big zipper on the right leg of her pants, and as the chameleons raced into her pocket, she dropped the centipede—and the chameleon on its back—in with them. Within seconds, the patter and pull of little feet stopped, and Megan’s camouflage was gone.
Still, no one was around. She touched the transmit button on her tiny earpiece and softly said, “Evie?”
After a few seconds, Evie’s voice rose in her ear: “Yeah?”
“I need you at the school. Bring the Specters—all of them.”
A pause, and then Evie’s voice again: “We’re on our way. Full camo?”
“Yeah,” Megan said. “And be ready to use your pockets to send some animals to the Secret Zoo.”
“You got it,” Evie said, and then the radio waves went silent.
Megan adjusted her clothes—a pull here, a tug there. Then she fluffed up her pigtails, took out her hall pass, and walked back into the classroom.
Mrs. Simons was standing in front of the whiteboard, scowling at the group. A few students near her desk were nervously accusing one another. In the front row, Quinn was leaning toward Stella, saying something and pointing to the floor. Megan strolled up to the scene, pretending to be confused by the commotion. Then she set the hall pass on Mrs. Simons’s desk and said, “Did I miss something?” to anyone who might be listening.
As she walked to her seat, she noticed Ella, who’d raised an eyebrow at her in a curious way.
Chapter 7
Not-So-Wide Walt
When school was dismissed, Noah went to his locker and pressed his forehead against the flimsy metal. He was exhausted. The Specters, knowing it was critical to keep the dangerous animals away from the students and to continue to keep the Secret Zoo a secret, had spent hours covertly combing the school to get rid of centipedes, tarantulas, and other insects from closets, the playground, and back rooms. They’d even cracked the combinations on the lockers to round up any Secret Zoo creatures inside.
The scouts didn’t know how the Secret Zoo creatures had gotten into their school. A hidden portal, perhaps, like Mr. Darby had said. And they didn’t know if the creatures were part of DeGraff’s plan—a diversion to keep the scouts and Specters busy. Or were they just an unintended effect of DeGraff’s new portals?
As Noah dialed in his combination, he jumped at a loud voice in his ear: “HEY!”
He glanced over his shoulder and came face-to-face with Wide Walt. The school bully was smiling, his plump cheeks looking as red and round as tomatoes. Dave and Doug, Walt’s friends, were standing off to the side, snickering in their usual way.
Noah shook his head and finished dialing his combination. “Get out of here, Walt,” he said as he swung open his locker door. He put his math book on his shelf, adding, “I’m in no mood.”
“What’s in the bag, bro?”
Noah realized Walt was talking about Tameron’s backpack. When the bully suddenly reached into the locker, Noah swatted his hand away.
“Don’t,” Noah said.
“C’mon—what’s in it? Something else that’s gonna bite me?”
Walt had recently stuck his hand in Ella’s backpack when P-Dog was hiding in it. He’d spent the next few days with a row of pinpricks on his fat finger.
No parents were around, and the teachers were still in their classes.
Walt laughed and reached into Noah’s locker again. This time Noah turned and pushed Walt in the chest, hard. The school bully lost his balance and stumbled backward a few steps. He stood and stared at his chest, his mouth hanging open. Dave and Doug had stopped smiling.
He raised his gaze to Noah’s face. “You serious, bro?”
The locker clanged as Noah quickly threw his notebook on the shelf. “Just…don’t, Walt. Okay?”
The way Walt casually glanced over his shoulders made Noah nervous. He turned and squared his body to Walt. He wasn’t going to back down, not today. When someone grabbed his arm, he looked and saw Ella. Richie and Megan were standing behind her.
“Don’t do this,” Ella said. “Let’s just go home.”
Something about the idea made him feel sick. Just leave, just run, just cower—just let Walt continue to have his way with the students at Clarksville Elementary. He eyed Ella and then softly shook his head. He wanted to say something, but the storm of emotions he was feeling was making it difficult to think.
“C’mon, let’s—”
He rolled his shoulder to get away from Ella. Then he took a step toward Walt.
The noises in the hall had blended into a single sound. Noah barely noticed as students continued to rush by, bumping into one another while making for the exits.
Stop him, a voice inside him said, and Noah realized it wasn’t his own, not really. It was Sam’s.
Noah took another step.
“Dude’s gone cray-cray!” Walt said to his friends. He’d wanted to sound funny and brave, but Noah had heard the nervous waver in his voice. Walt took a step forward. They stared into each other’s eyes like boxers before the first bell.
“Noah—stop!” Megan said.
He thought of Sam, Tameron, and the other Descenders. He thought of DeGraff, Charlie Red, and what might happen to his world at any moment. And before he knew what he was doing, his punch had been thrown. The school bully fell backward and his head thumped against the ground. Walt rolled from side to side, grimacing in pain. He made no attempt to get up.
“Stop it!” Megan called out.
Noah realized the halls had gone silent. All the students were watching, glancing between Noah and the boy who had bullied them for years.
Richie appeared at Noah’s side, saying, “Let’s go, Noah!”
Noah stared down at Walt, his entire body trembling. A part of him wanted to help Walt up, but another part of him wanted to deliver a second blow. He felt nervous, proud, and ashamed. After a few seconds, he turned to his locker and quickly put on his jacket. Then he grabbed his backpack and slipped his arms through the straps. The weight of the pack felt good, familiar. He felt strong with it on.
Megan ran up the hall, followed by Ella and Richie. Noah took a step and stared at Dave and Doug, who were standing by in shock.
Try something, Noah thought. Do something—make a move. But Dave and Doug backed up instead.
“Noah—c’mon!”
Richie was waving for Noah to follow him. Noah saw Walt still lying on the floor. He was hurt, and a part of Noah felt sick because he was to blame. But then Noah remembered all the times Walt had hurt his friends. Walt had never cared—not once.
But that’s Walt, a voice inside him said, and this time it was his own. Not you. You care.
He considered this. Then he raised his leg high, stepped over Walt, and headed for the exit, the backpack shifting on his shoulders with each stride.
Chapter 8
The Multipoint
“Good afternoon, Noah.”
Noah jumped, stumbled backward through the doorway, and fell onto his front porch. From his sudden seat on the cold concrete, he stared at the person on his living room couch—an old man with long gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, a bushy beard, and a pair of dark sunglasses.
“Mr. Darby…”
The old man forced a smile.
Noah continued to sit on the porch, the cold seeping into his legs, the weighty backpack pulling down on his shoulders.
“Are you coming in?” Mr. Darby asked.
Noah nodded, but didn’t get up.
“Soon?”
Noah stood, walked into his house, and stopped just inside the doorway. He tried to say something, but the words were a jumble of letters in his brain.
“You might want to shut the door,” Mr. Darby said as he pulled the long flaps of his velvet jacket closed. “It’s a bit drafty.”
Noah did and then slowly regained most of his senses. “What’s…what’s going on?”
“Oh…I’m just sitting on your couch.” He gazed around the room—the bookshelf, the television, the pictures on the wall. “And remembering.”
“Remembering what?”
“Better times, I suppose.”
Noah had no idea what Mr. Darby was talking about. He walked deeper into the room and tossed Tameron’s backpack on a chair.
“Careful with that,” Mr. Darby said. “It’s not full of textbooks, you know.”
Noah glanced into the kitchen, then up the staircase leading to the second floor.
“Your parents are still at work,” Mr. Darby said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be so casual. Where’s Megan?”
“Ella’s house, with Evie.” Noah looked around. “Where’s Sam?”
“Back at the Institute of Light, checking on things. And Blizzard’s in the shed, doing fine. Sam fed him some things from your fridge. You should ghost him later and let him walk around in your backyard for a bit. Just make sure your parents aren’t watching. Polar bears tend to leave big footprints.”
Noah nodded. With everything that was going on, he’d practically forgotten about Blizzard.
Mr. Darby casually picked at a few pieces of lint caught in the folds of his jacket and added, “Please pardon the intrusion. I invited myself again. The portal in your closet…most convenient. Tell me about what happened at your school today.”
Noah took a seat on the couch and told him everything—the spiders, the centipedes, the Specters. Mr. Darby combed his fingers through his beard and seemed to contemplate things. When Noah was finished, he stared at Mr. Darby’s dark sunglasses and wondered about the old man’s eyes—his milky eyes, which he’d accidentally revealed to the scouts outside the Secret Creepy Critters a few days earlier.
“DeGraff is staging his army,” Mr. Darby said. “That’s the only explanation.” The old man stood and slowly paced across the floor. “He’s building portals to new places, preparing to attack, like we feared. There’s a portal in your school, Noah, and the Secret Zoo creatures are coming through it.”
“On purpose?”
“Perhaps. In any regard, this makes what I’m here to show you more critical than ever.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out four pieces of velvet, each the size of a washcloth. He held the pieces by their corners, and Noah understood why—they were full of the magic that could portal objects to new places. “The Multipoint Portal,” he said as he walked over to Noah. “It’s a project that our Teknikals and magical scientists have been working on. You’ve been to Kangaroo Kampground, yes?”
Noah nodded and remembered the times he’d crossed that sector, portaling from one small tent to another.
“Their development lab. Council has had an interest in the Multipoint for years.”
The old man looked around the room until his gaze settled on a shelf that held a bunch of dusty knickknacks. Then he reached out to Noah, grasping a piece of velvet by its corner. “I’d like you to hold this above your lap. It’s best to keep your fingers away from the center.”
Noah used both hands to carefully hold the velvet cloth about ten inches over his legs.
Mr. Darby walked to the shelf with the knickknacks. He lifted a velvet cloth a few inches above an old fisherman with a yellow hat and turned to Noah, saying, “Ready?”
Unsure what Mr. Darby was doing, Noah nodded.
Mr. Darby dropped the velvet on top of the knickknack, which disappeared and immediately fell from the piece of cloth in Noah’s hands, landing in his lap. A portal. Nothing spectacular—Noah had seen this before.
Mr. Darby released a second piece of velvet over another knickknack, a woman playing the piano, and the knickknack immediately fell onto Noah’s lap next to the fisherman. This was a new trick: two portals that joined to the same spot.
Noah looked up in time to see Mr. Darby drop the last piece of velvet over a clown with an oversized nose. The knickknack fell onto Noah’s lap with a clink! of porcelain.
“The Multipoint Portal,” Mr. Darby said again. “Several gateways joined to a single spot.”
