Riddles and Danger

by Bryan Chick

  As the monster swung at them, Ella leaned to one side, intentionally dropping the bike. Claws whooshed through the air, just missing her head. The bike slammed into the legs of the sasquatch, tumbling the beast to the ground.

  Ella’s head smacked the concrete. Her eyes filled with stars, and a squeal erupted in her ears. The world clouded out. She lay on the path, too hurt to move, her cheek pressing against the cold concrete, blood trickling from her nose. Marlo jumped in front of her face, chirping wildly and fanning his wings. From her perspective, he seemed gigantic—larger than the distant buildings.

  Forcing her head to rise, Ella spotted Richie. He was rolling on the ground, clutching his knees in pain. Next to him, the sasquatch lay in a heap, its legs tangled in the twisted frame of the wrecked bike.

  Just as Ella hoped that the sasquatch had been knocked unconscious, the beast lifted its head. Then it looked around and fixed its stare directly on her.

  Chapter 29

  A Bird’s-eye View

  Podgy and Noah soared between the light of the stars and the lights of the zoo. As they neared the Forest of Flight, they skirted its domed roof. The glass panes blurred into a single piece, circular and unending. Noah saw his reflection in them: arms outstretched, jacket fluttering, legs dangling. He saw Podgy, too, his flippers stroking the air, his beak jutting forward, his belly sagging. Flying only a few feet from the gleaming rooftop, Noah couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch it. His fingers skipped and squeaked along the glass.

  Through the glass, Noah spotted tall trees, spills of water, clouds of mist, and rocky mountainsides. The Forest of Flight contained the things from the natural world; those that couldn’t be collected had been created.

  Birds perched on branches and stood on the grassy floor. They raised their heads to watch Noah and Podgy pass. Noah wondered if any remembered him from his first supernatural encounter with the exhibit. How many had been there when the cloud of birds engulfed him? How many had helped him rescue his sister despite the risk?

  Once Podgy had half circled the roof, he swooped away from the Forest of Flight. The wind rushed against them, noisily gathering in Noah’s ears. From this height, Noah had a plain view of many exhibits: the bulky buildings of Metr-APE-olis; the towers of Koala Kastle; the zigzagging corridors of Creepy Critters.

  In the distance, Noah saw the rooftops of the neighborhood. Inside houses, people slept, perhaps dreaming of fairy tale moments as incredible as the one Noah was living. In a way, he felt sorry for them. Even with the danger that the scouts now faced, Noah doubted he’d trade his position with anyone in the world. The wonder was sometimes worth the risks.

  To the right, something suddenly soared above a stand of trees and headed straight toward them. Noah almost slipped off Podgy in shock at what he saw.

  Chapter 30

  Flight or Fight

  Toward the middle of the zoo, Sam and Megan came upon a group of particularly tall trees. The Descender swerved upward, his body as vertical as the trunks, then sailed across the treetops, his wings stirring their branches. Once past the woods, he coasted downward, leveling out at around twenty feet from the ground. In front of them were Podgy and Noah. In silhouette, they looked like black-and-white animation brought to life from a children’s comic: Podgy stroking his flipper wings; Noah clinging to his back, the earflaps of his cap fluttering.

  As the duos neared each other, they veered in the same direction to fly side by side. Sprawled across a penguin that had only recently learned to fly, Noah looked surprisingly relaxed. He flashed a smile, which Megan bounced back.

  Megan said, “Is this nuts, or what?”

  “It’s like a dream!”

  “It’s got to be a dream, right? Any second now, Ma’s going to wake me up for breakfast!”

  “If she does, tell her I want pancakes!”

  They laughed. For a moment, there was no flying penguin, no winged teenager, and no danger. All that existed was a special fondness that siblings shared, something that was normally kept buried in the day-to-day frustrations of living together.

  The four of them swerved around trees and buildings. With each stroke of Sam’s wings, a gust of wind lifted the earflaps of Noah’s hat. As they crossed Arctic Town, Noah pointed to the Polar Pool and shouted for everyone to look. There was Blizzard, striding up the staircase to the underwater tunnel. He’d gotten out of his exhibit, undoubtedly using the same secret passage that he’d used to deliver Megan’s note to the scouts not so long ago. From the air, Blizzard somehow looked more enormous than ever. When he reached the top of the stairs, he craned his long neck all around, likely trying to spot the sasquatch.

  Megan cupped a hand to her mouth and hollered, “Blizzard! Up here!”

  The bear raised his thick snout. Even in the darkness Megan could make out the black dot of his nose. Blizzard tipped back his head and roared, his voice muted by the wind in her ears.

  “Follow us!” called Noah.

  Blizzard padded onto a sidewalk and chased after them. His massive body rocked with such force that Megan almost expected the concrete to shatter under his feet.

  The four continued to fly over the zoo, scanning the grounds. Animals had left their exhibits to stand guard. Megan saw lions hiding in bushes, monkeys staring out from trash cans, and meerkats peeking from waterspouts.

  As they soared over Creepy Critters, Megan spotted something that made her gasp. She pointed at the ground, where Ella and Richie were lying on the sidewalk. Barely moving, they were clearly hurt. Beside them, a sasquatch lay tangled in the twisted frame of a bicycle.

  “Podgy—go!” commanded Noah.

  Podgy dove. Sam plunged after him, his wings pressed against his sides.

  Below them, the sasquatch staggered to its feet, snapping the frame of the bicycle like a twig. It tossed the twisted pieces of metal aside and hobbled over to Ella. As the beast neared the fallen scout, it lifted an arm, spread its claws, and prepared to deliver a blow that would surely end her life.

  Chapter 31

  Lights Out

  Ella rolled over on her stomach. Her ears rang. Points of light flashed in her vision. She rose to her knees and tried to focus on the sasquatch. Its fangs curled over its lips; moonlight gleamed on its claws.

  She knew that at any second those claws would come down on her. She thought that closing her eyes would make it easier to die. But before she could block out the sight of the sasquatch, something else did. The lights in the Clarksville Zoo suddenly blinked out. In groups of five or six, they went black—the lights in lampposts, on buildings, inside exhibits. Within seconds, darkness had engulfed the landscape.

  Chapter 32

  More Surprises

  With the zoo lights out, Noah used the moonlight to pinpoint the sasquatch. As the penguin went into his final dive, Noah kicked out his leg, connecting his foot squarely against the monster’s forehead. Several things happened at once: the sasquatch roared in pain and fell backward; Podgy crashed to the ground; and Noah was thrown onto the snowy grass, where he slid and rolled until finally coming to a stop.

  Noah stood and peered through the darkness. He made out the sasquatch lying on its back, writhing in pain, and the faint silhouettes of Megan and Sam, who had touched down on the sidewalk about fifty feet behind the fallen monster. Sam stepped away from Megan and ran at the sasquatch, his wings snapping open like sheets in a stiff wind. He lunged forward and flew parallel to the sidewalk, no higher than three feet up. When he reached the sasquatch, he swept his legs beneath him, and talons—or something that looked like talons—sprang from his shoes. He snagged the beast by its leg and veered into the air, dragging along his captive, who writhed and kicked, trying to get free.

  The Descender carried the sasquatch higher and higher. Noah followed their dark silhouette against the lighter backdrop of the sky. At around sixty feet, Sam opened his talons and his prisoner fell, its limbs flailing and kicking and grasping at the emptiness around it. It dropped behi
nd a clump of trees and slammed soundlessly into the earth. Sam turned back in a graceful sweep, his wings seeming to brush the star-spotted canvas of sky. As Noah watched, words that he’d once read from the pages of the dictionary filled his head: To pounce upon. To attack with violence and suddenness. To descend.

  Noah rushed over to Ella and Richie. Both scouts were standing, but with difficulty. He grabbed Ella’s shoulders and studied her face.

  “How bad are you hurt?”

  Ella was too dazed to speak. With trembling hands, she straightened her earmuffs, fluffed her ponytail, and wiped her nose, smearing blood across her cheek. Megan appeared and hugged Ella, almost knocking her off her feet. Noah held them steady and looked at Richie.

  “Richie—you okay?”

  Everything about Richie was crooked: his hat, his glasses, his jacket, his stance. Even his pants had shifted sideways. Noah went to his friend and tried to fix him—a tug here, a pull there.

  “Richie?” he said again.

  Rubbing his eyes, Richie glanced at Noah. “I . . .”

  “Yeah?” said Noah. “What is it?”

  “I got a joke,” said Richie.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Richie nodded, sending tremors through the pom-pom on his cap. In a shaky voice, he said, “What’s . . . what’s the difference between a sasquatch and a brick wall?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “At full speed on Ella’s bike—nothing.”

  Noah straightened Richie’s glasses and nodded. “Not too horrible, given the circumstances.”

  Sam touched down nearby and folded his massive wings against his back as he shuddered to a stop. The tips of the wings trailed behind him like a cape. Among the shadows, he looked eerie.

  “The talons,” Noah said. “How . . . ?”

  Sam picked up one foot and thrust it forward, launching steel hooks from the sole of his boot, three from his toes and one from his heel. They were smeared with blood. When he tucked his foot back, the hooks retracted.

  Sam asked, “Everyone okay?”

  They nodded.

  Marlo touched down on Noah’s shoulder, startling him.

  “Marlo,” said Noah. “We need help. Find Blizzard and Little Bighorn and bring them here.”

  With a chirp, Marlo sprang into the air.

  Podgy waddled close, moving his gaze over the other Crossers.

  To Noah, Sam said, “There are more sasquatches in Creepy Critters—Charlie spotted them.”

  Everyone stared at the exhibit. Perhaps forty yards away, it was perfectly dark, inside and out.

  Noah said, “What do we—”

  Sam held up his hand, silencing Noah. The Descender had his stare locked on the main entrance to Creepy Critters, a pair of glass doors standing on a wide concrete porch.

  “I hear something,” he said at last.

  The scouts inched forward and listened. They kept silent. Around them, the wind moaned. They watched. A dusting of snow swirled over the eaves of the building.

  Noah heard a muffled thud. Then another.

  “Is that—”

  Before he could finish, the main entrance to Creepy Critters burst outward. The glass doors shattered and snapped off their metal frames, their twisted remains hanging limply. Sasquatches jumped onto the wide porch, kicking over empty flowerpots. One sasquatch ripped out a staircase railing and hurled it into a nearby tree. Another smashed its fist through a window, sending shards of glass flying. The crowd of sasquatches quickly turned around and disappeared back into the dark building.

  “What are they doing?” Noah asked.

  Sam stared into the empty spot where the sasquatches had been. “No one expected this.”

  “Expected what?”

  After what seemed like a long silence, Sam muttered, “They’re clearing a path.”

  “For who?”

  “The animals inside Creepy Critters . . . the sasquatches are releasing them.”

  Noah’s heart dropped. Beside him, Richie gasped.

  Into his headset, Sam said, “Charlie, I need all available units to report to Creepy Critters. Repeat—we need help!”

  The scouts looked at Sam for direction. When it became obvious that he’d suddenly been stunned into silence, it was Noah who took control.

  “C’mon!” Noah said. “We got to go!”

  Then he charged toward the exhibit—toward the black unknown and the monsters dwelling inside of it.

  Chapter 33

  Dangers in the Darkness

  Noah ran up the stairway to the entrance of Creepy Critters, where shards of glass and metal pieces lay all around. The dark, doorless entrance yawned like the mouth of a monster. He stepped through, debris crunching beneath his feet.

  Inside, it was pitch-black. If the building had emergency lighting, it wasn’t working. He tried to recall the exhibit from previous visits. He knew that in front of him stretched a long hallway. Twice as wide as the ones in his school, it had countless aquariums set in its walls. It led to a great room in the center of the building, known as the Creepy Core, from which other halls branched off, zigzagging and threading through one another like the passages of a maze.

  The swampy odor of soil, mildew, water, and fish hung in the air. Without electricity and the usual noises of filters and bubbles, the exhibit was eerily quiet. Other than an occasional croak, hiss, or rattle, there was no sound.

  Noah reached his hand back, intending to wave his group inside, only to have his wrist seized by something hiding in the darkness. Before Noah could yelp, a hand pressed over his mouth.

  A voice spoke softly in his ear. “Don’t panic. It’s us.” Noah knew the person the voice belonged to. Tameron. Slowly, the Descender removed his hand.

  In a hushed voice, Noah asked, “How’d you get in?”

  “Back door,” Tameron whispered. “We were standing right here when the sasquatches busted out the main entrance, but we weren’t coordinated enough to attack.”

  “Are the others here?” Noah asked. “Solana—you here?”

  “Yeah,” the darkness answered.

  “And Hannah?”

  To his left, Noah heard the soft pop of Hannah’s chewing gum.

  Tameron’s silhouette appeared in the doorway. Noah saw his armored helmet and the start of his long tail. The Descender waved for Sam and the other scouts to come forward. In seconds, everyone was inside the building.

  In a voice that was much too loud, Richie said, “Man, it’s dark in here!”

  “Shhh!” Ella scolded him in a whispered yell. “I know we’re not as smart as you, but I’m pretty sure we all figured that out.”

  Sam asked Tameron, “Could you tell which way the sasquatches went?”

  “Down to the Core, then to the right.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “How come?” asked Noah.

  “That’s where Gator Falls is—the alligator exhibit. It has the biggest portal in here to the Secret Zoo. Could be big trouble if the sasquatches bust it open.”

  The group fell silent. No one had any doubts about what they were up against.

  Noah heard Sam move to the front of everyone. “Let’s go. Stay close and stay quiet.” His footsteps faded as he headed into the darkness.

  They all followed, treading lightly. Noah held his arms out in front of him, feeling the space to ensure it was empty. Occasionally, he’d brush Ella, whom he was trailing, her soft ponytail sweeping across his fingers.

  Noah strained to see something—anything. With no windows to the outside world, the darkness was absolute. As he moved, he had no idea how much distance he had covered or how much he had yet to go.

  Sensing their passage, the animals in the aquariums seemed to become anxious. They began to croak and squeak and rattle. Tails splashed above water; hard shells tapped against glass.

  Noah used the sounds, their volume and direction, to measure his surroundings. He calculated the width of the hall, the height of the ceiling, the empty di
stance around him. In his head, he formed a faint image of the building.

  Perhaps a minute into the walk, some sounds grew softer and others faded away altogether. The hallway was gone—Noah could hear its absence—which meant they’d moved into the Creepy Core. Noah lifted its image from his memory. It was as much as seventy-five feet across, and its walls held up a low, domed roof made of cement. Thick glass acted as a clear ceiling to section off the dome, creating an overhead aquarium. It was full of spiders. Some were small and lanky, and others had bodies as round and plump as grapes. Though the space was crowded with branches and leafy plants, spiders could always be seen crawling across the glass.

  Sam whispered, “Which hallway is Gator Falls in?”

  When no one responded, Noah took a chance. “I think it’s three hallways down from where we’re standing.”

  “We need a light,” said Megan.

  “Richie . . .” Ella whispered. “Your nerd-gear . . . Do you have your penlight?”

  Richie loudly explored his pocket. “Yes. Everything’s accounted for.”

  “Hold on,” said Tameron. “No lights. We got sasquatches in here, and—”

  “What would you rather do?” Ella said. “Stand here until we get trampled by bugs and animals? No thanks.”

  Tameron stayed silent. After a moment, he said, “Sam, what do—”

  The building filled with the sound of breaking glass. In one of the branching halls, an aquarium had shattered. Noah spun to his right. He peered out and tried to pull an image out of the darkness. Nothing. Glass continued to clink against the floor. Then, all at once, the noises stopped. The fresh silence was terrifying.

  “What was that?” someone gasped.

  A response came, but not from anyone in their group. Far down a hall came a low, rumbling growl—the unmistakable sound of an alligator. It was followed by another, and another. Then there was a hiss and the crash of a body against a wall.