by Tracey Hecht
Tobin did not know what exactly she meant, but he knew not to ask more. “I suppose this alliance is a good thing,” he offered, hoping to show his support.
Dawn nodded. “It is certainly our best hope,” she replied.
“Ayyyeeeeee!”
At the sound of the sugar glider’s sharp wail, the fox’s ears stood erect.
“Holy mother of madness! El padre of pain! It’s the carnivores!” From his perch in the tree, Bismark jumped and pointed feverishly.
The animals turned in time to see three coyotes trotting toward them from the brush.
“Au revoir, mis amigos! I shall see you all in another life!” As Bismark lamented his fate, he lost his footing on a patch of slippery bark and tumbled out of the tree. With a grunt and a thump, the sugar glider landed on the moss beds below.
“Oh dear,” said Tobin, stepping toward his fallen friend.
“He will be fine,” said Dawn. She turned toward the coyotes. “Welcome, Ciro.”
Ciro furrowed his brow, baffled by the odd assortment of creatures. Then he nodded to his companions.
“This is Ajax and Julian,” he said. The giant creatures bowed in greeting. “Have the members of your group been caught up?”
“They have not,” Dawn replied.
“Then that is where we’ll begin.” Ciro eyed Bismark, still lying in a heap. “Shall we wait for the flying squirrel?”
“Squirrel!” The bats howled with laughter.
“He’s a marsupial, sir!”
“He’ll tell you himself!”
“Soon as he wakes up from his fall!”
“Let’s focus,” said Dawn, shooting a stern look at the bats. The fox turned to Ciro. “Why don’t you share what you know,” she suggested. “We can fill Bismark in later.”
“Very well,” replied the coyote. He motioned for the group to draw closer. “We must stop these nocturnal nappings.”
“We’ve been aware of them for some time,” added Julian.
“Since one of our own was snatched!” Ajax barked. The vein in his neck pulsed with rage.
“Yes,” Ciro said, “when our Audrey went missing.” He took a deep breath. “Since then, we have confirmed the disappearance of many others. A raccoon, a possum, a wombat—”
Cora let out a small yelp.
Ciro paused for a moment then went on. “A honey badger, a mink, a tarantula…and twelve kiwis.”
Julian bowed his head. Ajax clawed at the earth.
“We have been studying these animals,” Ciro continued. “Their patterns, behaviors, and qualities. We need to know why they were taken.”
The animals listened carefully. Even the bats were silent.
“But nothing adds up,” finished Ciro. “There is no common thread among those who are missing.” The coyote glanced over at Dawn. “We do, however, have one meaningful lead.”
The others leaned in.
“There is one animal who’s been spotted at every known napping.” Ciro paused. “The jerboa.”
Cora gasped. The bats flapped. But Tobin did not flinch.
“Yes,” confirmed Dawn. She stepped beside the coyote. “Jerry’s involvement is certain. He may be too small to overpower larger creatures, but he definitely played a role in their disappearance.”
“Well, let’s go find him then!” Ajax barked. The hot-tempered coyote scratched at the earth.
Ciro raised his front paw, signaling for his friend to calm down.
Ajax took a deep breath, but his eyes still gleamed with rage. “That rotten rodent is out there,” he grunted, “just waiting to nap his next victim.”
Tobin lowered his gaze toward the earth. “I never trusted him,” he said softly.
“But Bismark did,” said Dawn, “and Jerry trusted Bismark as well.” Her lips curled up slightly.
“Is…is that a good thing?” asked Cora.
The fox nodded. “Jerry might have confided in him,” she explained. “Let’s go wake Bismark.”
Ciro surveyed the nervous group. His face flashed with mischief. “Yes,” he said. The coyote shot a sly wink at the bats “Let’s go rouse the squirrel.”
All four flying creatures tittered at Ciro’s joke. Cora chuckled under her breath. Even Dawn flashed a grin. Despite the dangers that lurked, Tobin felt a wave of relief. The coyotes were friends, not foes. And together, they would restore safety and peace to the night.
Chapter Fifteen
THE ABDUCTION
“Stand back!” screeched Bismark, recoiling from Ciro in fear. “I can see the hunger in your eyes! There is very little meat on these bones, I’ll have you know.” Bismark awoke from his terrible fall to an actual nightmare—a coyote hovering inches above him.
“Bismark, stop.” Dawn shook her head. “Ciro is not thinking about food right now. He just wants to know what Jerry told you.”
“That’s what he wants you to think, my sweet, gullible fox. First he gets information, and then he begins preparation. What will it be this time, coyote? Sugar glider stew?” Bismark shuddered. “This is not how I want to go!” he exclaimed, flailing a fist through the air. “I intend to live forever, you know. Or at least I’ll die trying!” Bismark raced up the tree trunk and hid in its limbs.
“Huh?” Ciro shook his head in confusion.
“He often makes little sense,” whispered Cora.
The fox tilted her head toward the treetop. “Bismark, enough. Now tell us: what did the jerboa say?”
Bismark popped his head out from a tangle of leaves. “Nothing, nada, rien! He did not tell me anything.” The sugar glider crawled to a far-reaching limb, where he plopped down on his behind.
The animals standing below slumped with discouragement. There was a moment of uneasy silence as they realized they had no more leads.
The sugar glider sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “Perhaps he went to find the last teammate,” he said.
One by one, the other animals lifted their heads.
“What was that?” Dawn stood at the base of the tree, her eyes wide and alert.
“His amigos,” Bismark continued. “They’re almost together now. All but the final one.” The sugar glider gazed into the distance, seemingly lost in thought.
The fox raised a paw to the bark, intrigued. “What ‘amigos’?” she asked.
“The group, the team, la squadra,” he said, shifting his weight on the branch. “When he gathers them all, he can return to his family.”
Ciro crept beside Dawn. “Bismark,” he pressed, “what is this team?”
“Oh, you know.” The sugar glider sighed. “The raccoon, the possum, the honey badger….”
“Is there a mink in this group?” Ciro asked.
“What about a coyote?” Ajax demanded.
“Ahhh…yes, I believe so.” The sugar glider moved down a few branches.
Ciro and Dawn’s eyes locked in a meaningful gaze. No one spoke.
“Now, Bismark,” said Dawn. The fox spoke evenly, so as to not fluster her friend. “Did Jerry ever mention the purpose of this team?”
“Yes,” chimed in Tobin. “What’s it for?”
“No, no, no,” said the sugar glider. “No mention of any of that. Though I did tell him that all teams need a great leader. A master of ceremonies. A maestro, like moi!” Bismark jumped to his feet and then bowed. “Yes, maestro. I rather like the ring of that.”
Dawn and the others gasped. Had Bismark unknowingly volunteered to be napped?
The sugar glider stared at his friends. Then, suddenly, his eyes blazed with comprehension.
“Mon dieu!” he yelped. He cradled himself in his flaps and rocked back and forth. “What have I done?”
“Bismark, think,” Dawn commanded. “What else did Jerry say?”
“Did he mention my brother?” cried Cora.
“Or Audrey?” boomed Ajax. “Did he ever mention the name Audrey?”
“Um…um….” Bismark wiped beads of sweat from his forehead.
“What’s the nature of t
his team?” questioned Julian.
“Was he the leader?” asked Ciro.
“Oh mon dieu! Mon dieu!” Bismark paced on the branch, running his paws through his fur. “I…I….” He could no longer speak. The questions were coming too fast, and the little sugar glider could not handle the pressure. He was wheezing, his breath growing shallow. His eyes danced in their sockets. His body swayed. And then, with a crashing thud, he plummeted down from the tree. For the second time that night, the sugar glider lay on the ground, unconscious.
“Klutz!”
“Featherweight!”
“Squirrel!”
The bats giggled and snickered, but a shrill scream in the distance drowned out their jeers.
The coyotes bared their sharp fangs. Dawn arched her spine. Tobin and Cora huddled together.
“Another napping!” whispered the wombat.
“But where?” wondered Tobin.
The group turned their heads left and right, but they could not locate the source of the sound.
“Let’s check the den!” Ajax roared. With an angry grunt, the coyote raced into the woods.
The rest of the animals followed, sprinting into the dark. But when they arrived at the den, it was empty. Panting and wheezing, the group scanned the land. There was no trace of the napper.
Dawn tilted her head toward the plains. “Maybe the sound came from that way,” she said.
“Or that way,” said Julian. The coyote pointed in the opposite direction.
The group stood in stupefied silence, unsure of what to do next.
Suddenly, the wombat let out a gasp. “Where’s Tobin?”
Dawn’s eyes darted left, then right. “No one panic,” she said, though her own heart was racing. “Maybe he’s with Bismark.” The fox ran toward the tree where they’d left the unconscious glider. Sure enough, there stood Tobin.
“Your scales!” Cora cried.
Tobin’s coat, normally smooth, was now scratched and scuffed all along his left side. The wombat lowered her gaze, pained at the sight of her injured friend.
But Tobin seemed unconcerned with his wounds. He was panting and flustered. “Oh goodness,” he gasped, struggling to regain his breath. “They, they….”
Dawn met the pangolin’s terrified gaze. “What is it?” she asked.
“They got him!” he sputtered. “They took Bismark!”
Chapter Sixteen
BIGGER BEASTS
“Awfully quiet.”
“Rather miss the crazy rants.”
“Just not quite right without the squirrel.”
“Svor.”
The bats hung their heads low as they tended to Tobin’s injured scales. As they slathered the wounds in a paste made from smashed cordyline leaves, Dawn pressed Tobin for more information.
“What do you remember?” she asked. Her tone was gentle, yet urgent.
“Oh dear,” said Tobin. “It was terrible!” The pangolin’s breath was heavy, and his scales were still trembling with shock.
“Was it Jerry?” asked Julian.
Ajax arched his spine, and his wiry fur stood on end. “That scoundrel! I’m gonna…I’m gonna….” The coyote pawed the earth angrily.
Cora traced her paw over Tobin’s injured scales. “But Jerry couldn’t have hurt you this way. He’s so small.”
“Exactly,” said Dawn. “The jerboa is far too small and too frail to inflict this sort of damage.” The fox pointed to the claw pattern formed by the scratch marks on the pangolin’s side. “These are the marks of a much bigger creature.”
Tobin took a deep breath then exhaled. “Right,” he said, growing calmer at last. “Jerry was not there at all.”
The animals drew in closer, captivated by the pangolin’s words.
“They were huge, like big lizards.” Tobin’s eyes flashed with fear. “They had long, knobby snouts…. And, oh goodness! They had terrible, gleaming white teeth.”
“They?” Ajax asked. “There was more than one of these things?”
The pangolin nodded. “There were five.”
“Sounds like crocs to me,” said Julian.
“Crocodiles?” a few voices gasped. The bats shuddered under their wings. Cora covered her face with her paws.
“Jerry must be working with them,” said the fox. “They must have recruited Bismark for this… team.”
Ciro scratched his ear, searching his memory. “He did offer to be—what did he say?”
“The maestro,” said Dawn. “The team leader.”
Cora padded next to the fox. “I still don’t understand,” she began. “What’s this team for?” Her voice quavered with deep concern.
“For crushing!”
“For chewing!”
“For chomping!”
The bats flapped their wings and spun round in circles.
“Chomping?” Cora yelped.
“Svor,” said the bats. They all rubbed their bellies.
“Oh no!” Cora cried. Her eyes filled with tears. “My brother…Bismark…the kiwis…!”
“Stop that,” snapped Dawn, glaring at the bats. “No one’s been eaten.”
Tobin laid a paw on Cora’s back, hoping to comfort his furry friend. But he wondered how Dawn knew for certain.
“What makes you so sure?” asked Julian, voicing the pangolin’s thoughts.
All eyes locked on Dawn. “It wouldn’t make sense,” she replied.
“Right,” agreed Ciro. “Why would the crocs employ Jerry if they were just hunting for food? And why wouldn’t they eat the jerboa? They can hunt perfectly well by themselves.”
“We need to find them!” said Ajax. “We have no time to waste.”
“But where are they?” asked Cora.
Dawn furrowed her brow. “It’s strange,” she began.
Everyone turned to face the fox.
“Crocodiles are saltwater creatures, yet they’re forming a team way up here.”
“Strange, indeed,” added Tobin. “Everything seems out of place. Just like those sea cucumbers.”
Dawn came to a halt. “That’s it!” she said.
“What is?” asked Cora.
“I know how to find them,” said Dawn. The fox gazed toward the river. “The crocs have been leaving a trail.”
Tobin’s eyes gleamed. He suddenly understood. “That’s why the water was salty!” he said. “The crocodiles have been dragging up sea water.”
“So…we follow the salt?” asked Cora.
“Exactly.” Dawn stood and turned toward the group. “Follow me,” she declared. “We are going back to the river.”
Chapter Seventeen
THE LEGEND
Once again, Tobin felt out of breath. The group had raced to the river, back where they’d last seen the sea cucumbers. Desperate for a moment of rest, the pangolin slumped at the edge of an inlet. But then he noticed something strange. “Hmm,” he murmured. “My eyes may be failing me, but look! There seems to be some sort of whirlpool.”
The others drew close and crouched at the bank. Indeed, the water was swirling in circles.
“It looks like it’s being sucked down,” observed Dawn.
“Down where?” Cora asked.
Suddenly, Ciro sprung to his feet and locked eyes with the fox.
“Could it be?” whispered Dawn.
Ciro shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve heard of them only in legend.”
Cora tilted her head, still confused. “Heard of what?”
The canines turned toward the group.
“Mystical underground caves,” said Ciro. “It’s said that rivers flow through them.” He looked back at the mysterious whirlpool.
“But I didn’t think they were real,” added Dawn. Her voice sounded skeptical. “With their strange light? And rushing falls? It always sounded a little, well, made up.”
The bats teetered forth.
“Strange light?” said a bat.
“Rushing falls?” said another.
“That stuff’s
real,” said a third.
“Real as rabbit.”
Ciro’s eyes flashed with excitement. “What’s that you say?” He moved toward the bats and crouched low. “You know of these caves?”
“Svor.”
“One right beneath us, in fact.”
“Used to hang in there all the time.”
“But it’s crazy down there. Like a maze.”
“Svor. You could get lost.”
“Especially without sonar.”
Dawn’s ears stood tall and alert. “Can you take us there?” she requested. “The screams have all been in this area, and yet there are no traces of the missing animals.” Dawn paused, seeming to piece together the information as she spoke. “No traces above ground that is, but I wonder what we might find if we go below.”
“Into the caves then!” said one bat.
“To look for the traces.”
“And the trouble!”
“Oh goodness,” murmured Tobin, but he was nodding in agreement.
A rush of wind blew through the air, rustling the leaves on the trees. The leather-winged creatures stood still.
“Now,” urged the fox. “Take us there now.”
The bats glanced at each other, perplexed.
“But you’re already here!” said one.
In unison, the foursome pointed at a hole in the ground. It was about the width of a lemon.
“That’s the entrance,” finished another.
“Oh dear,” Tobin muttered. He squinted at the tiny, dark entrance, and then eyed his own rounded belly. “That’ll be a tight squeeze.”
“There are more entrances,” said a bat, “but next one’s wayyyy down that way.” He pointed downstream.
“Or, is it that way?” said another. This one pointed up.
The foursome stumbled back and forth, clearly confused.
“Julian, Ajax,” said Ciro, “how long will it take you to widen this hole?”
The coyotes circled the opening, evaluating the composition and density of the dirt. The earth was packed and dry.
“Might take a while,” said Julian.
“A while?” cried Cora. She shook her head and marched toward the hole. “We don’t have ‘a while’,” she said. “Step aside.”
The animals raised their brows at the normally docile wombat.