Meanwhile, Naja was a much greater threat. She’d gone after Dax and his mother, and though they had both raced quickly up onto the branch of the fake plastic tree, Naja launched a blast of venomous spit that hit Dax’s mother halfway up the trunk.
“Ah!” she hollered as the toxic poison coated her fur. She fell, crying out and twitching on the ground. “I can’t see! I can’t see! I crrmm mmm . . . mrrrr . . .”
Blind and twitching, mumbling too, Dax’s mother couldn’t climb or even stand to fight back. The black-necked spitting cobra’s poison caused temporary paralysis, which meant her victims lost control of their bodies before she ate them. While Dax’s mother could no longer move or talk, she could still think and, even more terribly, feel whatever happened to her. For most small animals, the poison’s effect would wear off after a while, but for most small animals, it wouldn’t matter because by then Naja would have eaten them. The poison just made them extra tasty to the snake.
Dax leaped from his branch without thinking, and took his mother’s paw, trying to drag her to safety, but Naja was already there in front of them, another terrible loogie loaded in the little tubes of her front fangs.
Dax, desperate, did the unthinkable for a Squirrel of Action like himself. He used his brain. He observed the situation, looking at the whole scene, not just at what was right in front of his nose, and he thought up a plan. It was quick thinking, but it was still thinking. He was becoming a much smarter squirrel.
Instead of just diving into the path of the venom to protect his mother, which is what a Squirrel of Action would have done (and was just what the snake wanted him to do), he dove out of the way of the poison, letting it hit his mother again. She was already paralyzed, so one more dose wouldn’t make much difference, and while Naja was spraying, her neck was extended and all her muscles were rigid. She couldn’t turn on Dax.
It was terrible to see another spray of poison soak his mother, but it bought him the time he needed to flank the cobra, scoop up a handful of wood chips from the ground, and fling them into her eyes.
“Ahh!” Naja yelled. “I can’t see!”
“Well, that makes you even with my ma!” Dax yelled back, then charged, delivering a high-flying kick to the side of Naja’s head, following it with a chop to her cheek as she slammed into the ground. “Don’t you dare mess with Dax’s family!” he yelled, raining kicks down on the side of her face.
He was so focused on pummeling her for what she’d done to his mother that he didn’t notice her black body slicing through the air behind him like a whip. Her tail slashed across his back and sent him hurling off his feet. He landed with a thwack on top of his mother, and Naja rose again over them both, blinking the wood chips from her eyes.
“Now I will eat you both ssslowly,” she said. “To be sssure your mother hearsss your ssscreamsss.”
Across the cage, Thom the mad-eyed garter snake had cornered the gopher named Sebastian, who’d been an amateur magician back in the real Ankle Snap Alley. He’d pulled his head down into his neck and looked like he was trying to make himself disappear, but with no luck.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Thom laughed.
Meanwhile, Basil had gotten the jump on Kit’s mother, trapping her in his coiled body and squeezing her tight.
“Come down and play with usss, Kit,” Basil said. “Or will the hero of Ankle Sssnap Alley sssimply let hisss mama sssufocate in my coilsss?”
Kit turned from the lock and jumped down in front of the python, ready to fight.
But he saw Dax and his mother about to be devoured and the Liney sisters gloating over their victory as Atrox readied for a counterattack against which they were not prepared. And he saw Thom about to make breakfast out of Sebastian.
Then he glanced at the exhibit window, and saw Preston the peacock looking away, disgusted by the violence he’d invited, while Titus was panting with glee.
Kit realized the little creatures of Ankle Snap Alley could not win this fight.
Maybe, he thought, if he surrendered, he could reason with the snakes. Maybe he could convince them to switch sides and join him. Or maybe he could at least trade his life for his mother’s, like she had once done for him.
“Basil, stop!” he yelled. “I want to—”
But he didn’t get the chance to surrender, because all of a sudden, there was a loud clanging above and all eyes looked up to the open vent one more time.
Baas and Chamcha’s faces appeared in the opening, peering down at the scene.
“Looks like that mask-face got into some trouble,” Baas said.
“A lot of froth and venom bubble,” Chamcha said.
“Good thing we came back to launch a sneak attack,” Baas added.
“Yes!” Kit called up to them. “Yes! Help us!”
“Mind your businesssss!” Basil hissed at the mongooses. “Thisss issss between them and ussss!”
Kit saw the python shudder, and the other snakes looked nervously at one another. Snakes had no fear of gophers or squirrels or even big raccoons, but in the wild where they lived, a mongoose could make a cobra cry mercy faster than a hummingbird drinks a drop of soda.
Then Baas said:
Kit is our business,
you forked-tongued goon.
From somewhere deep in the vents, the third mongoose dropped a beat:
Let his mother go,
or I’ll eat you with a spoon.
“Not so fast! What is this?” Chamcha added:
We don’t offer our resistance,
until Kit asks for mongoose-type assistance.
Kit stepped up, hope returning as fast as he could think of rhymes:
My friends of the fur, my pals of the paw,
your skills with a verse drop my jaw in awe.
But words aren’t what are needed here!
My friends are gettin’ bleeded here!
Snakes are gettin’ feeded here!
Please!
I’m down on my knees!
Help me send these vipers slithering to the trees!
Kit dropped to his knees and held his paws open, hoping his begging had worked as well as his rhyming, because if the mongooses wouldn’t help, all was lost.
“Not bad, eh?” Chamcha said.
“Not bad,” Baas agreed.
“Now wait a moment,” Basil pleaded, unwrapping himself from Kit’s mother and backing toward the glass wall. Then he started:
No need to come down here . . .
We sssurender . . .
We’ll go back to our cagesss . . .
What . . . uh . . . what rhymesss with sssurender?
The other snakes pulled away too, retreating for the corners of the fake Ankle Snap Alley, but they had nowhere to go and the door was still locked and it was really hard to think of anything that rhymed with surrender. The snakes had been trapped by their cruelty as much as by their lack of wit.
Baas and Chamcha jumped down.
“No!” Titus yelled from the other side of the glass while the mongoose posse tackled his snake henchmen and, one by one, tied them to one another.
Outside the glass, Titus howled, and Preston hissed.
Kit turned to them and pointed. “You’re next!” he yelled.
Preston and Titus looked from Kit to the knotted snakes and back to Kit. Then they ran from the building.
Kit had plenty of time to try his nose on the lock more calmly now, and after a few more sniffs and guesses, the door clicked open.
The animals of Ankle Snap Alley were free again, and so were Kit and his mother.
It was time to leave the zoo and go home.
Chapter Twenty-Three
THE AWFUL ALLIANCE
OUTSIDE, the sun was just starting to cast its morning shadows and Eeni still stood at her post by the vent.
She ju
mped when she saw Kit and the other animals round the corner looking exactly like they’d just fought off a nest of snakes. Dax had his mother slung across his back. She was snoring and moaning at the same time.
“Oh no,” she said, rushing to Kit. “I was standing guard! I didn’t see anyone come in this way. I’m so sorry. My mother showed up and I got distracted and—”
“It’s okay,” Kit told her. “They were ready for us before we ever got there. But we had some help and—wait! The Rat King? Here?” Kit looked around.
“Yeah,” said Eeni. “But my mom spoke for herself. She wanted to let me know I had a mother too.” She gave Kit a friendly punch on the shoulder. “See? You’re not the only one who gets to see their mother again tonight.” She smiled and Kit smiled back.
“This must be Eeni,” Kit’s mother said. She gave Eeni a hug. “Thank you for taking such good care of my son in Ankle Snap Alley. I hear he owes most of what he knows to you.”
Eeni blushed a little. “I’m a helpful rat to have around,” she said.
“Well, we’ll have to make sure we keep you around then,” Kit’s mother said, and ruffled Eeni’s fur.
It dawned on the little rat that she wasn’t losing her friend so much as gaining her friend’s mother. Her little boat was picking up passengers as it flowed down the river. She figured the Rat King’s boat metaphor was a pretty good one after all.
“We better get going,” Kit said. “The sun is up and the cages are opening!”
He looked around and saw that the baboons were doing their job with the Moonlight Brigade. The cow and the sheep were wandering the path, headed for the gate of the zoo, while Guster and Guster Two worked on making their hole below the fence bigger. The groundhogs they’d freed dug beside them.
“I didn’t think we’d have to tunnel a cow out!” Guster shouted.
“Just dig faster!” Guster Two replied through a faceful of dirt, and they all dug faster.
Matteo the mouse was leading a pack of dingoes to freedom, while Hazel and Fergus had just set to work with Major Babi on the big gate to the Aviary, the big outdoor birdcage.
The birds sang a new song together: “Shut your mouth and close your eyes, today’s the day the free flock flies!”
“Hey!” a Person shouted just as the birdcage swung open. “Blarg blarg blarg!”
“It’s a zookeeper! Watch out!” Kit hollered, but Hazel and the baboons couldn’t hear over the birdsong, and the zookeeper was running straight at them.
Kit charged into the path to stand in the Person’s way, and the Person skidded to a stop, shocked at the raccoon in her way. Kit stood on his back paws and raised his front paws in the greeting of Azban.
“Blarh blarg blar blar?” the Person said.
“I greet you in the name of all animal folk,” said Kit. “We mean you no harm but we are the Moonlight Brigade and we are duty-bound to free all the animals who long for the wild.”
The Person’s jaw dropped, nonplussed. Then she reached for something on her belt. Kit didn’t know if it was a weapon or food or what it could be, but he didn’t really have time to find out.
He dropped to all fours and snarled, then he charged at the Person, who let out a yelp of surprise, which sounds the same in any language. The Person stepped backward to get away from Kit, but Eeni had snuck up behind her, dragging a banana peel she’d found in the trash and she set it under the Person’s foot. The zookeeper slipped and fell with a loud oof and Kit ran straight over her.
“AHHH!” The zookeeper covered her face with her hands, but Kit had no interest in biting or scratching her. He was very careful not to harm her in any way (except for the bruises she’d no doubt have from falling on her behind).
“Is this fun or what?” Major Babi shouted across the zoo at Kit, as he watched the birds take flight.
“Blarg!” the zookeeper on the ground shouted into the device she’d pulled from her belt. “Blarg blarg blarg,” she said, and then looked up at Kit and said a few more things, which Kit didn’t understand either, but he could tell were about him. Then the Person jumped to her feet and ran away into the bushes, still shouting nonsense Person sounds.
“I think the Person is calling for help,” Kit said. “We better get going.”
“No, you better not,” said Preston, blocking the path in the other direction with his feathery tail plumed wide. “You’ve bested my snakes, but I knew a creature like you had many enemies. Titus suggested we contact them all.”
Titus strutted up behind him, laughing. “I think you remember my friends.”
Behind him, an army of Flealess marched in a row, animals Kit recognized from the homes around Ankle Snap Alley. There was Mr. Peebles the gerbil, and a large gray parrot, and two Siamese cats, and a big old bulldog with a bow in her hair.
“You’re awfully far from home,” Kit said. “Won’t your People be worried about you?”
“Let them worry,” Titus sneered. “It’s time we got rid of you once and for all.”
“And we found another old enemy of yours too,” Preston said.
At his signal, from the other direction on the path, a large rough-looking creature stepped from the shadows into the morning light.
“Coyote,” Kit gasped.
The big gray-and-brown coyote growled. “I don’t much care what happens to these leash lovers and cage cuddlers,” he said. “But I cannot wait to tear you to pieces for chasing me away from Ankle Snap Alley. I had a long hungry winter, but I’ve a feeling this spring will be . . . delicious.” He licked his lips.
“How did you find all of them so fast?” Kit asked as the animals circled Kit and his friends, surrounding the whole group and pressing in on them from all sides.
“With some help from above,” Preston said, looking up to the sky.
Kit followed the bird’s stare and saw the broad-winged shadow of a hawk circling overhead.
“As you know, he sees everything from up there,” Preston said. “And your enemies were quite eager for another chance to devour you.”
The peacock let out one shrill whistle and then, in a flash, Valker the hawk tucked his wings and dove straight for them. He smashed into Eeni, pinning her to the ground beneath his talons with a shriek of “REVENGE!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
PRIDE
KIT rushed to help Eeni but was pushed back by the hawk’s piercing golden stare.
“One more move an’ aye’ll crush her right now,” Valker said.
“But we let you go!” Kit objected.
“Ay, but ya hurt ma pride,” said Valker. “An’ that I cannot abide.”
“Nice rhyme,” Eeni said, squirming in his grasp and trying to get back the breath the hawk had knocked out of her. “You should think about giving up this whole hunting-rats thing and become a poet. I’d be happy to write you a good review in the Rodent Quarterly Journal.”
“Shhh, child. No clever words will get you out of this,” Preston said. “Valker, you can eat the rat. You’ve certainly earned your breakfast.”
The hawk fluffed his feathers with a happy squeal. He tightened his grip on Eeni as he prepared to smash her skull, but then he froze. His feathers tightened against his body. He looked at the bushes.
“What was that?” he asked.
“What?” Preston turned. “I didn’t see anything.”
“Aye’ve the eyes of a hawk an’ you’ve the eyes of peacock,” Valker said. “Trust me, Aye seen something.”
“I smell something,” Titus said, his dog nose working the air. “Something smells funny.”
“I am known for my sense of humor,” Eeni quipped from inside the hawk’s clutches. She wasn’t about to let her imminent death make her miss a good wisecrack.
“Not you, ratty . . . It’s somethin’ Aye don’t—?” Valker didn’t get the rest of his sentence past the tip of his bea
k before he was yanked off Eeni from behind and tossed tail feathers over feathery head into the bushes.
Jojo, the mountain of white fur and long yellow teeth, stepped over Eeni and lowered his head toward Preston, Titus, Coyote, and the Flealess. His heavy black claws clicked on the hard concrete path.
“You can all run away now,” he whispered, so softly that he might have been singing a lullaby, but for what he said next. “Or none of you will ever run anywhere again.”
“Eeep,” Coyote squealed, piddling a little puddle where he stood. Then he ran away, sniffing frantically for the path that would lead him out of the zoo. Coyote was all snark and no fight and Kit hoped the he had finally learned his lesson and would never bother him or any of the folks of Ankle Snap Alley again.
The polar bear watched Coyote go, then watched Valker take flight, somewhat dizzily, in ever-widening circles until the hawk vanished in the clouds.
Jojo cocked his wide flat head at the Flealess house pets, who started to started to explain that they had no problem with him, but the bear licked his lips. They all went scurrying for their cozy houses on the other side of the city.
Only Titus and Preston Q Brightfeather remained. Titus barked and the peacock stretched his neck high, defiant.
“Jojo! You’re out of your cage with People around! Isn’t that dangerous for you? For bearkind?” Kit cried.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said, Kit, and some things are worth facing a little danger over. You need to be saved and I’m capable of saving you.” Jojo lifted his nose and sniffed the air. “I would never be proud to call myself a bear again if I didn’t help a creature in need.”
“But you don’t even know us,” Kit told him. “You’re risking your neck for total strangers.”
“I was born on an ice floe at the top of the world where the sun never sets,” said the bear. “I was shipped across the great salt seas to a city where the buildings cut the sky to slivers, and I was cared for and stared at and feared by creatures I could not understand and who could not understand me. I have seen more in my life than most folks will see in nine thousand lives. No one who walks this world is a stranger to me.”
The Wild Ones--Great Escape Page 13