by Bryan Chick
“You haven’t seen him all morning?”
“Nuh-uh,” Richie struggled to say through a mouthful of food.
“And don’t you find that a little strange?”
Richie stared into the corners of his eyes and considered this. Then he looked back at Ella. “Not until just now.” He wiped milk off his chin with the back of his hand. “I thought maybe he was . . . you know . . . using the bathroom.”
“For a half hour?”
Richie shrugged.
Megan stepped into the kitchen and shook her head. She’d been looking in the basement for her brother.
“Anyone check Fort Scout?” Richie asked. “Bet you anything he’s out there.”
Megan said, “I’ll go.” Then she rushed out the back door.
As Megan tore across the backyard, Ella squinted her eyes at Richie. “A half hour . . .”
Richie shrugged a second time. Then he lifted the cereal box toward his friend. “Hungry?”
Chapter 28
Troop 112 Spots a Paw
Shortly before the Clarksville Zoo opened at 8:30, the members of Troop 112 were lined up outside the main gates, rubbing their hands and rocking to stay warm. The troop consisted of five boys and a den leader, Mr. Davis.
When the gates opened, the troop barreled through a turnstile and headed for Arctic Town. They reached it within minutes, the six of them steering through the area’s exhibits, which looked like sights near the North Pole.
They stopped at the Polar Pool. Icy-looking boulders and low rock formations lay scattered around a long, inground pool. Near the middle of this glacial plain sat the biggest rock formation, the size and general shape of a school bus. Just five feet in front of it was a long row of squarish boulders capped with fake snow and ice. In front of those stretched the winding pool. Between the large rock formation and row of boulders was a path, a favorite place for Blizzard and Frosty to stroll.
The Polar Pool’s big attraction was an underwater glass tunnel that stretched across the width of the pool. Each end of the tunnel opened to a glass-walled room accessible from a flight of stairs.
The troop stepped onto a sidewalk surrounding the exhibit. One of the boys stood on the bottom rail of a low steel fence and stared across the fake icy tundra. “Hey! Where are the bears?”
The other kids stepped up beside him, bobbing their heads as they searched for a view around the boulders.
“Don’t know,” said a boy with buck teeth that were practically smaller than the braces cemented to them.
“I don’t see any,” said a boy with beady glasses.
“Look!” shouted a boy with orange freckles. “Over there, behind that row of boulders! A paw! See it?”
“Nuh-uh.”
The boys began craning their necks in all directions for a better look.
Though the freckled boy had partly spotted one of the polar bears, he couldn’t yet see what it was doing. The polar bear, having just dragged Noah out of the water, was licking his face, trying desperately to wake him.
Chapter 29
Noah Gets Spotted
Noah opened his eyes and peered out at a world that was hazy and indistinct, as if a fog had rolled into his bedroom. For some reason, his mother was dragging a wet washcloth over his face. When he grunted and rolled away, she didn’t stop. Angered, he struggled to focus his stare. Hovering above him was not his mother but a polar bear. What he thought was a washcloth was the bear’s tongue. And Noah’s bed wasn’t his bed—it was the hard concrete of the Polar Pool exhibit.
He sat up with a jolt and coughed up water. A wave of pain sloshed across his head, and the world teetered and turned around him. He held his temples until the pain subsided and the earth steadied.
He stared up at the polar bear.
“Frosty?” Noah asked. Frosty was Blizzard’s smaller, female companion.
The bear tipped her head to one side and growled gently.
Noah suddenly remembered what had happened in the Grottoes. He must have passed out in the water. Frosty had apparently discovered him and dragged him out. Now the day was bright, the sky cloudless and blue. Noah peeled back the sleeve of his jacket and read his waterproof watch: 8:37.
The zoo was open.
Noah glanced around. He was in the path between the big rock and the low wall of boulders. He peered out through one of the gaps and saw into the pool. The tunnel snaked through the water, each end opening into a glass room whose dim light kept the tunnel aglow. Beneath the rippling water, the tunnel seemed to swell and sway.
“Frosty . . .” he muttered. “You’ve got to get me out of here. Fast.”
The polar bear pointed her muzzle at Noah and grunted softly.
Noah began to stand and stopped. Standing on the sidewalk along the exhibit were six people, five boys and a man. They were gazing into different areas near him. One of the boys—a kid with big orange freckles—stared straight into Noah’s eyes.
Noah dropped out of sight again. He’d barely shown himself, and only for an instant, but he knew it had been enough.
Noah had been spotted.
Chapter 30
The Boy with Big Orange Freckles
The boy with big orange freckles gasped. “What was that?”
A chubby boy glanced at him. “What was what, Cayden?”
“That!” The freckled boy, Cayden, jabbed a finger to where he’d seen the boy’s head poke up. “Alex—you didn’t see that? Someone’s behind those rocks! A kid in a red hat.”
The rest of the troop, including Mr. Davis, regarded Cayden with a bewildered stare. Across the Polar Pool exhibit lay a wall of rocks and a body of water. Nothing else.
“I’m dead serious! He was wearing a red hat—a poufy red hat.”
“Maybe it was Santa Claus,” one kid quipped. “Fell off his sled.”
The troop erupted in laughter.
Ignoring the others, Cayden pushed away from the rail and hurried along the sidewalk, circling the Polar Pool exhibit. As he walked, he pointed into the exhibit, calling out, “Behind those rocks! C’mon—you’ll be able to see better from over here!”
The rest of the troop stopped laughing. Mr. Davis stepped forward, saying, “Let’s check it out, at least.”
Together, the six of them followed their freckled friend. As the path between the boulders and the rock formation became visible, they stopped and stared out. About eighty feet across from them lay a polar bear, but no kid.
Alex said, “Well, if there was someone in that exhibit, that bear just ate him.”
The troop broke into laughter again.
“I know I saw someone. . . .” Cayden’s eyes widened as a fresh thought came to him. “Wait a minute—that kid— he’s got to be on the other side of the bear!”
This brought forth the biggest laugh yet from the other boys.
Cayden swung around to them. “It’s not funny! I’m telling you—”
“Hold on,” said Mr. Davis. “The bear’s starting to move. We’ll know in a sec if there’s a boy in there, or if our big white friend mistook him for breakfast.”
The den leader’s remarks prolonged the laughter. The only one who kept quiet was Cayden. He stared into the exhibit, watching the bear rise to her feet, certain that the boy he’d seen was about to be revealed.
Chapter 31
A View from Fort Scout
Megan dashed across the cold grass and climbed the ladder to the tree fort. She poked her head through the opening in the floor and peered around. Fort Scout was empty. She hoisted herself up and stared out at the bridges and lookout platforms. Nothing.
The zoo grabbed her attention. Could Noah be somewhere in there? All of his crazy interest in the Grottoes— did he do something stupid this morning?
She snatched up the binoculars and held them to the bridge of her nose. She slowly surveyed the zoo and saw nothing out of the ordinary: zebras lounging beneath trees, gazelles strolling across their yards. In the near side of the zoo, her stare stopp
ed on an unusual dark spot along the stark white sprawl of boulders in the Polar Pool.
Megan gasped. It was Noah.
Chapter 32
Frosty Steps Aside
The polar bear lumbered to her feet and turned to face the troop, her long neck swinging from side to side. The freckled boy stared anxiously, waiting for the animal to step out from the path. The other boys stopped laughing and fixed their eyes on the exhibit.
“Okay,” Alex said. “We’ll know in a second.”
The polar bear stepped out from the boulders. Then she turned away from the troop and strolled toward the pool, leaving the path behind her exposed. Nothing was there.
Cayden’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Another boy, thinking it would have been cool to find a kid trapped in a bear exhibit, groaned in disappointment.
“But . . . a kid . . .” Cayden stammered. “I saw a kid. . . .” Mr. Davis laid his hand on the freckled boy’s shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about it. Sometimes our eyes play tricks on us—it just happens.” He turned to the rest of the troop. “It looks like our bear’s going for an early morning swim. You boys want to go down and watch from the tunnel?”
The boys nodded and headed back the way they’d come, toward the staircase that led into the ground. As they walked away, Cayden kept turning his head to stare at the low wall of boulders. He was still certain he’d seen a boy in a red hat.
Chapter 33
Noah Gets Stuck
Noah could hardly believe he’d been able to wedge himself between two of the boulders. The gap was barely wide enough to roll a basketball through, yet he’d been able to squeeze his entire body into it. It had been a strain—his body pulling, twisting, tugging, and shift-ing—but it had worked. Now, even with Frosty out of the way, the boys couldn’t see him from their vantage point.
Through the opening, Noah watched Frosty pad toward the pool. Very softly, he whispered, “C’mon, Frosty. Get me out of this mess.”
Frosty splashed down. Water sprayed through the gap that Noah was wedged into, drenching him. He heard rapid-fire footsteps from his right. The boys were headed out, probably for the staircase that led to the underwater tunnel, which was to his left. Frosty was luring the boys away—but if Noah didn’t get behind the wall of boulders again, they would see him as they passed by.
Noah tried to pull himself back and couldn’t. He was wedged tight between the rocks, unable to move anything but his head and hands.
The boys’ footfalls grew louder. They were getting close to an open view of Noah again.
Noah squirmed and twisted. He managed to plant the bottom halves of his legs on the ground in front of him. He hoped he could push against them and squeeze farther back behind the boulders. But when he tried, he didn’t budge.
The footsteps drummed louder. One of the boys came into view. Then the others. If a single one of them glanced in his direction, Noah would be discovered.
Noah froze, his cheek pressed against a boulder. With wide eyes he stared out at the boys, and in a hushed whisper, chanted, “Please don’t look . . . please don’t look. . . .” Just as he became certain that one of the boys would glance in his direction, the last of them disappeared from view. Their footsteps faded into silence as they descended the underground staircase.
Noah breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately realized it was premature. He heard a voice. A man was talking—the guy that Noah had seen with the boys. He and someone else were headed up the path, trailing the others. Knowing that it was pointless to try to free himself, Noah kept perfectly still. Maybe, like the rest of their group, they wouldn’t look.
Noah suddenly felt sick. He’d been a Crosser for only a few days, and already he’d failed—failed the Descenders, failed Mr. Darby, and worst of all, failed his friends. How had sneaking into the Grottoes ever seemed like a good idea? How had he been so stupid, so selfish?
The man’s voice grew louder. Distinct syllables took shape. Within seconds, he and his companion would have a clear view of Noah.
A wall of white fur suddenly sprang up right in front of Noah. Frosty. She had pushed her paws against the pool’s edge and hoisted herself. As she splashed back down, water exploded in all directions and gushed through the gap. The fresh wetness broke the seal that held Noah to the rocks, and he was able to tug and squirm his way out.
Noah hit the ground with a wet thwack! He rolled behind one of the boulders and curled up, holding his breath. He listened to the man and the boy walk past him, then tread down the stairs.
Letting out a slow breath, Noah muttered, “Nice one, Frosty.” Sitting with his back to one of the boulders, he began to scan the ends of the exhibit, searching for an escape.
Chapter 34
Old Iron and Pinky Pedals
Megan couldn’t believe what her binoculars were now showing. In the Polar Pool exhibit, her brother had just squeezed out from a low wall of boulders after being splashed by a bear. Now he was skulking around, crouched low like an advancing soldier, jumping in and out of the cover of the fake rocks.
She leaned through the window for a better look, slowly turning the focus knob on the binoculars. “You’ve got to be kidding me. . . .”
Noah ran down the gradual slope of the perimeter trench. Twenty feet below the ground, he skirted the outside wall, dragging his fingertips along the concrete, hoping that his touch might reveal something—a secret exit, no doubt.
“C’mon, Noah,” Megan whispered. “Get out of there!”
Noah jogged through the trench and disappeared from view on the other side of the exhibit. Megan jerked the binoculars around, hoping to find him. Inside the lenses, the magnified world jumped and whirled.
“C’mon . . . c’mon . . . c’mon. Where are you?”
Noah stepped into view again, this time over the gradual slope from a different part of the trench. Still hunched over, he steered through the big rocks, glancing all around. He was searching more recklessly now, looking lost and confused.
There’s no way out, Megan thought. He’s trapped!
Noah rounded a boulder too suddenly and accidentally stepped over the edge of the pool. He tumbled into the water, landing without a splash in the silent world of Megan’s binoculars. A series of circular waves rolled out from the spot where Noah had disappeared. Her brother was gone. Just . . . gone.
“No!” Megan cried out.
Her heart pounding, she threw herself onto the slide and hit the ground running. She raced across the yard and banged through the back door too loudly. In the kitchen, Richie and Ella turned with a jerk.
“What’s wrong?” Ella said.
“We got to go! We got to go right now!”
“Shhh,” Ella said. “Don’t wake your parents. What’s going—”
“It’s Noah!” Megan forced her voice down to a whisper. “He’s trapped in the Polar Pool!”
Ella slapped her hands over her mouth and Richie stood from the table, his spoon plunging into his cereal bowl. Without another word, the scouts rushed into their jackets and hats and headed into the garage, Megan pressing the button to open the big door.
Megan said, “We’ll take the bikes.”
They rushed into the mess, finding Megan’s bike but not Noah’s.
“Noah took his,” Megan said.
She grabbed her pink bike and shoved it toward Richie. “Here.”
He stared at the bicycle but didn’t take it.
“Pinky Pedals?” he said. Pinky Pedals was what Megan jokingly called her bike.
“Take it!”
Richie mounted the seat and eased his way onto the driveway.
Megan walked to one side of the garage and rolled out Noah’s minibike. A stinky, wretched thing that had survived her father’s childhood, it looked as if it had been constructed by mounting a seat and two wheels to a lawn mower engine wrapped in steel. The minibike had a name: Old Iron. Gas-guzzling and loud, it steered erratically and spewed foul smoke. But its top speed was thirty miles per hour, and
it had room for two.
Megan turned to Ella. “Grab one of those helmets and hang on!”
Ella’s eyes widened. She straightened her earmuffs, swung one leg over the bike, and took a seat behind her friend. “Oh boy,” she uttered.
“Richie, follow us.”
Megan hit the ignition switch—a button fastened to the rusty handlebars with plastic ties. The minibike grumbled and wheezed and spat out a massive cloud of oily smoke. She opened the throttle and roared off the driveway, out into the street.
Chapter 35
The Depths of the Polar Pool
Noah’s drenched clothes sank him ten feet under. Just in front of him was the glass tunnel. It ran across the pool, its curved roof five feet below the surface, its floor pressed flat against the ground. Through its glass, Noah saw the backs of the boys and the man. They were looking away from him, watching Frosty as she wrestled with an orange barrel in the water, putting on her best show to hold their attention.
The pool was long and narrow, perhaps twenty yards across and three times as long. The tunnel sat near its middle. In front of Noah, on the other side of the tunnel, the pool ran straight until it ended. Behind him, it ran straight and then doglegged right. If Noah tried to swim in either direction, he’d surely be spotted. The only way out was the way he’d entered—back up to the water’s surface.
Frosty suddenly fixed her black eyes on Noah. She stopped wrestling the barrel and craned her long neck to peer around the boys at him, her rigid stare revealing her puzzlement.
The old man straightened as he realized Frosty was looking at something. Certain the man was going to turn and spot him, Noah swam to the bottom of the pool and melted into the shadows below the tunnel floor. Hidden from view, he gazed upward. The man stepped to the tunnel wall directly above him and stared out, his hands cupped around his eyes.