by Bryan Chick
With everyone in position, Sam called out, “Tameron—go!”
Tameron ran to the edge of the clearing, where he crouched and again swung his tail around, beginning a fresh sweep of the crowded floor. Once more, the alligators went airborne and crashed into the walls, shattering glass and spilling the contents of aquariums—black beetles and spiny-legged spiders.
As Tameron worked, so did Sam. He reached his wings out to his sides so that a wall of feathers rose from the center of the circle to stretch the width of the hall. Startled at the sight, many alligators retreated, crawling over one another, hissing and growling and biting. As Sam advanced toward Gator Falls, the scouts, Hannah, and Solana stayed huddled behind him.
The sasquatches stood by and watched. One beat its knuckles against its chest. Another punched its fist into a fish tank, which spilled like a waterfall onto the alligators beneath it.
“Okay . . .” Ella said. “Those guys look really, really mad.”
A sasquatch charged across the alligators and leaped into the clearing. Hannah sprang forward and flipped over, landing briefly on a handstand before thrusting the soles of her boots squarely against the sasquatch’s gut. The monster buckled over and flew through the air. Far down the hall, it crashed to the ground and slid on the tiles, bumping alligators out of its path before finally coming to a stop near the Creepy Core in a heap of muscle and mangy hair.
Ella turned to Richie. “And you always thought your shoes were pretty cool.”
When a second sasquatch lunged into the open space, Solana threw her shoulder forward and sank dozens of quills into its body. Rubbing its chest, the beast staggered back to the edge of the clearing and stumbled over the alligators. As it hit the tiles, the confused reptiles attacked it, their powerful jaws clamping onto its body.
Tameron continued to swing his tail around, opening a path for the other Crossers. Sam stroked his arms up and down, sending waves through his wings and frightening the alligators back.
“Guys!” Sam momentarily dropped his wings. “Look!”
The sasquatches ahead of them were retreating into Gator Falls, fleeing back into the Secret Zoo.
A minute later, Tameron pushed the last of the alligators aside, and the group moved into the open area at the end of the hall, where Megan and Podgy were waiting. In front of Gator Falls, glass lay everywhere, glinting in the shine of the flashlight fish. Looking into the exhibit was like peering into a swamp full of rich, deep greens. From the middle waterfall, a trail of alligators was still emerging.
“That middle waterfall . . .” said Sam. “Beyond it is a straight drop to the Secret Creepy Critters. We got to get in there and close the portal. The curtain . . . it has to come down. It’ll seal off the sector immediately.”
“How do we get past the alligators?” Richie asked.
“The tunnel beyond the waterfall is at least ten feet high. We have to go in through the top.”
Understanding what Sam was getting at, they all turned to Podgy, who merely returned their gazes in his usual ho-hum manner.
Noah stepped in beside the emperor penguin, saying, “I’ll go with him. Someone has to pull off the curtain.” When the other scouts protested, Noah immediately raised his hand, saying, “There’s no time to talk about this.”
“The two of them fly best together,” Sam pointed out.
Noah moved in behind Podgy and draped his arms over his body, just above his flippers. “This is the only way.”
Sam told him, “The curtain—it’s not going to come down easy. But pull hard enough, and it will.”
Noah nodded.
“The Secret Creepy Critters looks a lot like this place”—Sam gestured to the fake gunk dripping from the ceiling and the walls of aquariums around him—“only bigger—much bigger. You’ll portal into the Secret Gator Falls. Find an open spot to swing around in. As soon as you pass back through the portal, grab the curtain and don’t let go.”
“You got that, Podge?” Noah asked.
Podgy cocked his head to one side in what seemed like a yes.
“Noah, get in and out of the Secret Creepy Critters as fast as you can. It’s not . . .” Sam’s voice trailed off. He chose his next words carefully. “It’s not a place you want to be.”
Chapter 38
The Secret Creepy Critters
To build up speed, Podgy and Noah flew down the hallway into the Creepy Core and circled back. On their return, they veered into Gator Falls through the broken wall of glass and steered toward the middle waterfall. They struck the falls and passed into the tunnel, Noah’s head missing the ceiling by at least a foot.
Sloping down into the ground, the tunnel was at least fifty yards long. Its brick walls glistened with moisture from the falls, and water streamed down the tiny mortar trenches onto the dirt floor, muddying it. The wet tunnel ended at a single velvet curtain. Alligators were steadily crawling out from under it, juggling the muddy tassels along their backs.
As Podgy flew along the top of the cave, his flippers reached above Noah and clapped against the ceiling. He sped along, leaving little time for the alligators to do more than lift their snouts and hiss. A few snapped at the space beneath him.
When Podgy came to the portal, he flattened his flippers against his sides and pushed his bill forward, streamlining his body. Noah turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut. They hit the curtain and were filled with Bhanu’s magic. As they portaled into the Secret Gator Falls, Noah opened his eyes and felt his heart jump.
The Secret Gator Falls looked like the zoo exhibit it was attached to. Steep, grassy inclines rose all around, and countless waterfalls fell from the heights. Alligators crowded the ground, their feet splashing through mud, their bodies streaming along the surface of shallow streams.
Noah sensed something behind him and peered over his shoulder. Five sasquatches were chasing after them, each heaving its weight across all four of its limbs, like an ape.
“Podgy!” Noah called out. “Behind us!”
Just as Noah looked forward again, Podgy swerved to miss a waterfall and flew in behind it. They moved beside the wall of water like a surfboarder beside the falling crest of a wave. Noah squinted against a cloud of mist, and a second later, the duo emerged in the open air again, Noah blinking the water out of his eyes.
An alligator sprang forward into the air and snapped its jaws at Noah’s feet, just missing. A second alligator attacked, and then a third. Noah swung his dangling legs left and right to avoid their bites. Podgy flew beneath another waterfall, this time soaking Noah, whose wet earflaps clung to the sides of his head.
Seconds later, they came upon the long stretch of a wall of water. Unable to go around it, Podgy went through it, and he and Noah appeared in a new space. Here, there were no alligators. Thick fog hung all around, and moss-covered branches reached out at them like the grabbing arms of monsters. The ground was muddied, pitted with holes, and marked with patches of thin grass, their long blades drooping under the weight of the air. Bugs were everywhere, running across everything. There was still no place big enough to turn around.
Podgy twisted his head back for a brief look and continued forward. As they flew between two tall bushes, something that felt like thread struck Noah’s face. It clung to his cheeks and invaded his mouth. He swiped one hand over his lips, and the thin material stuck to his fingers. Podgy, he realized, had just flown through a massive cobweb. Spiders were crawling all over them. There were hundreds, their bodies round as marbles, their legs thick as toothpicks.
Noah swiped at his arm again and again. Spiders flew into the air and burst beneath his palms, their gooey guts smearing his jacket. Noah lost his hold and slid down the penguin’s side, flattening his flipper. With only one working wing, Podgy veered into the ground, spraying mud everywhere. When Noah fell off his back and rolled, something spilled over him. He lay in darkness, covered in something—something that was moving. He felt thousands of tiny legs pattering along his body, pricking his clothes
and skin.
Noah pushed himself to his hands and knees, slinging the unknown things everywhere. He stared out. All around him, the ground was . . . writhing. What looked like snakes, Noah realized, were centipedes—giant centipedes, each nearly a foot long. They crawled over his body, their segmented bodies squirming. When Noah felt one on his bare neck, he pinched it in his fingertips and flung it into the air, where it twirled away end over end.
Overcome with revulsion, he jumped to his feet, centipedes tumbling off his body. He felt them moving inside his jacket and frantically unzipped it and flung it to the ground, where the swell of centipedes absorbed it.
Behind him came a low, angry growl. Noah swung around and saw nothing but fog. In front of him, a new growl echoed the first. He spun back, centipedes popping beneath his feet. Again nothing. Only fog. Then growls came from new places. He turned and turned. Nothing. He waited. The only sound was the dull clinking of the centipedes’ hard bodies, the soft patter of their steps.
On all sides of Noah, the fog began to churn and break apart. One after another, sasquatches began to appear. They prowled toward Noah, crunching centipedes.
Noah searched for his penguin friend. “Podgy! Over here!”
The sasquatches crept forward, their beastly forms rising out of the fog.
Centipedes continued to squirm up Noah’s legs. Heaps crawled beyond his waist, blanketing his body with theirs. Several slipped beneath his shirt and writhed along his skin. One wormed up to his shoulder, and Noah felt a pinpoint of pain as he was bitten. He reached under his collar, grabbed the centipede, and chucked it away.
“Podddggyyy!”
The sasquatches closed in. Centipedes were crawling all over them, burrowing through their long hair. A sasquatch howled and batted one off its arm. Another reached over its shoulder, pulled away a centipede, then chomped off its head and tossed its gooey remains aside.
Noah’s insides churned. He cupped his hands around his mouth: “Pooodddgggyyyy!”
The emperor penguin burst forward, his flippers stirring the fog. He swerved around a sasquatch, narrowly eluding the swipe of its claws, and headed for Noah, flying low. Noah grabbed hold of the penguin and slung himself onto his back. His sudden weight plunged Podgy into the centipedes, but the penguin veered back into the air, his flippers flinging the arthropods all around. He steered through two other sasquatches and headed back to the portal to the Clarksville Zoo.
Noah said, “I can’t believe that worked!”
As they flew back through the wide waterfall, Podgy gained more and more speed. The curtain appeared. Dangling from a rod, it covered an opening along a steep, muddy slope. Beneath it, alligators crawled; around it, four sasquatches stood guard. As Podgy approached, the sasquatches fixed their eyes on him.
“They see us!”
Less than a hundred feet from the curtain now, Podgy flew at a breathtaking pace, veering from side to side as he negotiated the best angle of approach. Noah hung on, his legs fishtailing in the air behind him. They reached the sasquatches, and the first one swung at Podgy, who dodged the blow. The big penguin dipped and swerved through the attacks of the others, then pushed through the portal. As the curtain brushed against Noah, he pinched it in the crook of his arm and pulled with all his might. One after another, the gold rings snapped free from the overhead rod—clink! clink! clink! clink!—sounding like machine-gun fire in an old video game.
As Noah listened for the last ring to break apart, it didn’t, and he was yanked into the air. He swung backward on the curtain, watching in horror as Podgy flew deeper into the Clarksville Zoo without him.
In front of Noah, an alligator turned back its long snout and spotted him. Then it whipped its body around and pried open its jaws, ready to strike.
Chapter 39
Anything Boys Can Do . . .
As soon as Noah and Podgy disappeared through the waterfall toward the Secret Creepy Critters, Sam turned to the other Crossers and said, “The alligators—we have to stop them.” He became distracted in his own thoughts, then touched his ear, saying, “Charlie? You out there? We’re still waiting for backup!” He waited for a response, his eyes shifting over random spots. “Charlie, I repeat! We’re—”
Sam’s body lurched forward, his winged arms sailing out beside him. He clunked his head on the ground and lay perfectly still, his limp wings spread like a blanket across his back.
“Sam!” Solana cried.
For a second, Ella didn’t understand what had happened. Then she saw a sasquatch where Sam had been standing. It had knocked him down, the blow leaving him unconscious.
The sasquatches from down the hall were advancing on them, seeming to wade upstream in a nightmarish river of alligators. One reached the clearing and attacked Tameron, seizing his tail and yanking him off his feet. In an explosion of glass, the Descender slammed into one wall of aquariums. He dropped to the floor and lay perfectly still, bugs raining down on him like horrific confetti.
Into the clearing stepped the other sasquatches, one after another. At the edge of the alligators, they stood with their arms raised to their sides. One threw itself forward and struck its palms against Richie’s chest, hurling him backward. Richie thudded onto the floor and rolled to a stop at the end of the hallway against the outside wall, clutching his chest in pain.
“Richie!” Ella screamed.
As the four girls quickly came together in the middle of the open space, the sasquatches slunk along the walls, surrounding them.
Megan said, “What do we do?”
“The only thing we can do,” Hannah answered. She popped a small bubble, then crouched low. “We fight until it’s done.”
The Descender sprang forward and spun high in the air, kicking out her leg and the powerful weapon of her boot. When she connected with a sasquatch, it buckled sideways, flew into the wall of aquariums, and dropped to its knees in a shower of glass. Two others attacked, one on each side. Hannah crouched low and swept around her leg in a roundhouse kick, taking out their feet. Another dove at her, and she jumped all the way to the ceiling, her legs brought up in a spread-eagled stretch so that the beast stumbled beneath her. On her way down, she kicked one leg back, planting it squarely against the monster’s rump and sending it headfirst into the wall.
A sasquatch came up behind Hannah, seized her shoulders, and held her in the air away from its body. Hannah kicked back but couldn’t connect. Another sasquatch moved in, its claws pulled back to strike. Before it could, Megan and Ella jumped onto its arm, and the monster staggered and dropped to the floor.
Solana jumped in behind the sasquatch that was holding Hannah. She reached across her body and tore a handful of quills from her side. Then she swung her arm around and pitched the quills into the sasquatch’s back. The beast arched its shoulders, releasing Hannah.
Ella stood there, stunned. Prying her eyes from Solana, she looked around. Sasquatches were lying all over, some unconscious, others dazed. Somehow, the girls were winning.
Ella suddenly remembered Richie and turned toward the end of the hall. She shuddered. Richie was still lying on the ground. And two sasquatches were moving in on him.
Chapter 40
Rumbles in the Wall
Propped up on his elbows, Richie watched helplessly as the sasquatches neared. In the outside wall behind him, the aquariums suddenly shook. He craned his neck back to see water sloshing and fish darting nervously about.
The wall shook a second time. A third. Water spilled out the tops of the aquariums and cascaded down the glass. The fish swam out of sight and escaped toward the Secret Zoo. The two sasquatches raised their eyes at the commotion. One snorted, spraying snot.
The wall rocked again. And again. Richie watched as cracks formed in the glass—cracks that quickly spread and joined together.
“Uh-oh,” Richie said.
Just as he wrapped his head in his arms, the right side of the shaking wall imploded, and the hall filled with pieces of glass and metal a
nd brick, the debris streaming past him. Water spilled everywhere. Through a cloud of dust lunged two animals that Richie knew. Blizzard and Little Bighorn.
As the rhino landed, his big hooves shattered the tiles. He turned, and with a sideways jerk of his head, scooped up one sasquatch and heaved it up to the ceiling. The monster crashed into the fake goop and then dropped to the floor, unmoving.
Blizzard rammed into the other sasquatch, sank his teeth into its ankle, and slung it against the wall with a pull of his long neck. The monster dropped to the ground. When it tried to raise itself, it immediately collapsed, pieces of glass showering across its back.
Through a gaping hole in the wall, Tank appeared. He kicked through the wreckage and hoisted Richie to his feet. Then he reached out and straightened Richie’s glasses. “Sorry we’re late, bub.”
“Huh?” said a dazed Richie.
“We’re late. Sorry about that. I had to round up a crew.”
Richie had no idea what he was talking about. Richie, in fact, had no real concept of much at the moment. “Crew?”
Tank glanced out the broken wall into the dark night. “Here they come now.”
Richie peered outside. Nothing was there.
“Don’t sweat it. They’re just birds. And you’ve met them before.” He suddenly laid a hand on Richie’s head, palming it like a basketball. “But you’re going to want to duck for this.”
As the big man dropped, pulling Richie along, birds poured in from the open wall, an endless number, of black-capped chickadees. Their wings a fluttery blur, they filled the top half of the hallway, their sheer numbers blotting out the ceiling. Loose feathers rained down, a few of them landing on Tank’s bald head, looking startlingly white against his dark skin. The chickadees swarmed past the girls, who’d dropped to their hands and knees.