by Mike Storey
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Henri said. “And I’m sorry for your loss.”
“They want to extract my poison and put it in a dart!” Miguel said.
“I fell asleep,” Duffy said, “and when I woke up, I was here.”
“Yes, we know the story,” said Coco.
“You might want to find a new one,” said Edgar, more resigned than cruel.
“There’s no escape,” Vic hissed. His teeth were frightful, fang-like and too large for his face. “Once the humans have you, you belong to them. They’ll lock you in a cage, chop you up, cook you in a stew. They’ll cut off your horns, hooves, or tusks and grind ’em into powder.”
“That’s enough,” said Henri, his voice another bolt of lightning. “You know, Vic, at a certain point it just becomes counterproductive.”
“I’m simply schooling the boy,” Vic said, retreating into the private darkness of his folded wings.
“No, I need to hear this,” Bill said. “I need to know everything.”
The animals told Bill what little they knew about their location in the jungle. Much of what they said felt fused with the fears they had already listed: The humans were ransacking the jungle, seeking game and gold, hunting and collecting.
“Your man Jack,” Henri said. “He’s the clue. What the humans did, they’ll do to you.”
“The humans came into our cave with burning sticks,” Vic said. “Many of us choked to death on the smoke, while a few fled out into the light and right into their trap. I am the only one who survived transport. Some, like Henri, believe that I should not tell you these truths. But these truths are all we have.”
Henri sighed. “Thank you, Vic.”
OTHER THAN THE unknowns of their ultimate fate, every other aspect of this human site seemed to run like clockwork. Food and water was replenished every day, at approximately the same time. Of course the notion of time itself had become a bit slippery, with long stretches of bright, artificial light dulling the animals’ instincts and abilities. There was only one window, small and mostly blocked by brush. Only hints of daylight scratched through, and nothing at night.
Some of the animals seemed squarely institutionalized, in thrall to their captors, just as Bill’s father had warned. Duffy was a prime example. He was fat and happy, completely at home in his cage. Bill feared that Elena might lean this way. She was young and forgetful, easily influenced and open to suggestion, too young to judge motives or character. After all, she had followed Bill down from Cloud Kingdom. Now he needed her to follow him once more.
At night, the light clicked off without warning. One by one, the animals dropped off into a deep, almost artificial sleep. The room was cold and lonely. Duffy’s snores rattled their cages. Bill bid Elena good night, but he could tell she was already dreaming. So he curled up, wondering how Luke, Omar, and Diego were doing. For all he knew the humans had gotten them, too, taken them to another site. Or maybe they were still out there, dying of thirst in the middle of the savanna. Or maybe they were leading the humans straight to Cloud Kingdom.
Bill was tired and afraid. His head ached. The mission as first imagined—sneaking into the humans’ camp, breaking into and out of multiple cages, busting out Elena without detection—now seemed laughable. The humans had the speed, strength, and motive to demolish Cloud Kingdom in a matter of hours. They could lock every Teddycat in a cage, imprison the entire species, or just ransack the place, plucking claws one by one at their leisure.
He had to warn the others. But first, he needed to escape. Well, before even that he needed a good night’s rest. Hopefully his predicament wouldn’t seem so dire in the morning. He curled up and tried to sleep.
29
THE LIGHTS SNAPPED on just as suddenly as they had gone out. The brightness burned Bill’s eyes. He dug his snout deeper into the crook of his arm, hoping to fall back asleep and wake up someplace else. Duffy was still snoring. There were clicks, flutters, yawns, and yelps as the captives slowly rose to face another day in their cages. But while his first night in the cage had been far from peaceful, Bill did feel more attuned to his surroundings, more aware, and more certain than ever that they needed to escape. He vowed to follow every lead presented. He would not become another caged animal, lapping at his bowl, lost to the wild, instincts fried and wiped. This would not become his new normal. He tried to remember the fear he had felt—in the jungle, on the river, in the savanna—and focus on the thrill of it, the shock and power it delivered. That was what he needed to harness in order to survive. He couldn’t let the humans take that away from him.
“When do the humans come with food?” Bill asked.
“Not for a while,” Henri said.
“Look at you,” Edgar said. “All that big talk last night, and now you want breakfast.”
“That’s not it,” Bill said, though he was hungry.
Elena was as bright and chirpy as ever. “Good morning, Bill!” she said, like it was any other day.
“Hi, Elena!” he said, trying to match her enthusiasm.
Just then, the hatch that led to the outside was unsealed and began to draw open with a wheeze.
“Looks like you got your wish,” murmured Henri.
The room took on a static stillness as a parade of white-shrouded humans entered. Bill was nearly certain that the human at the front of the line was the one who had captured him, even though he had not gotten a good look at its face or any other identifying characteristics. This certainty grew as the lead human approached his cage and the others formed a small circle.
The next thing he knew, one of them was unlatching his cage. A sliver of opportunity! Bill made himself small, ready to dart. While it was true that he hadn’t fully sketched out his escape plan, he had promised to chase every chance full throttle. Instead, he surprised and disappointed himself by recoiling as the human stuck its forepaw inside.
The human purred as it reached into the cage.
Bill was in pure reflex mode, frozen somewhere between fight and flight. The human crouched down, and for the first time Bill saw its face: kindly drawn eyes; sharp, freckled cheeks; a wry smile that instantly reminded Bill of his mother’s. He was taken aback. This was not the human he had been expecting. He had expected Joe, a tar-streaked smoker, greasy with an evil glint. This human smelled sweet and citrusy. It had straw-colored hairs, which were tucked loosely behind the ears.
The human reached further into the cage and grabbed hold of Bill’s left paw. And suddenly, his jungle instincts returned. Or maybe it was just panic, the thought of Jack’s torture and the images Vic’s stories evoked. Losing a claw would be too great an indignity. He could face failure and capture, but there was no way he was going to live out the rest of his days neutered and ashamed. Bill bared his claws and slashed at the human. A jagged ribbon of blood appeared on the human’s foreleg, and a small splatter stained the cage. The human yelped and yanked its paw back out. Another human, this one larger and gruffer, approached and slammed the cage shut.
Bill panted as his senses returned. The old panic fizzled into something softer, sadder. He felt guilt and remorse. The circled humans were frantic, clearly fussing over the injured one’s wounds and shooting Bill troubled, disapproving looks.
The other animals were silent, on edge. Though contained to their cages, Bill felt them pull away from him. Even Duffy was awake and watchful, his heavy breathing only slightly less labored than his snores. Bill could understand why they would want to create distance between themselves and him, his actions, but he couldn’t actually believe that they thought he had done the wrong thing. After all, he hadn’t been placed in his cage willingly.
But he could already see that defense wouldn’t fly in the eyes of at least one witness: Elena. She looked scared, and not of the humans.
AS SOON AS the humans left in a huff and the exit was once again sealed shut, Bill tried to explain himse
lf to Elena and the others. “I didn’t mean to hurt it,” he said. “I really didn’t. It was self-defense, just a scratch.”
“Whatever it was, I hope it was worth it,” Henri said. “Rule number one, kid: Don’t bite the paw that feeds you.”
“It does more than feed,” Bill said. “We don’t have much time. Who knows what they’re doing outside, what they’re deciding? We need to break out of here, and fast.”
“Bill, just be nice,” Elena said.
She was disappointed in him. He knew the feeling all too well. But he would have to make it up to her later. Right now, Bill needed to orchestrate a jailbreak.
There was no telling how the humans would respond to his impulsive violence, and he didn’t really want to be around to find out. What if they summoned Joe? He scanned the room for vulnerabilities. There weren’t many. Every surface was gleaming, every cage secured. As for cohorts, it seemed unlikely the other animals would be of any assistance. But all was not lost. He still had his claws—for now—and if he could use them to escape his cage, break Elena out (and convince her she was safer with him than with the humans), he might be able to slip out when the humans reentered. Or maybe the window was the answer. The green forest pressed against the pane. They could crawl out and disappear into the wild. It was definitely big enough for them to fit through, and there was a trickle of rust leaking from one corner.
Bill stared at the window longingly and lapsed into a daydream. He was at home, curled up in his straw and watching the light shift through the clouds. He could hear his mother bustling about and his father working in the garden. He was warm and surrounded by love. All of his friends were nearby. Maia, Luke, Diego, even Omar. Things were simple, back to normal. No, they were better than normal. They were safely situated in a peaceful future where Teddycats and Olingos and other creatures were bound together and stronger than ever. He saw from their faces that he hadn’t disappointed them or let them down, hadn’t made promises he couldn’t keep, hadn’t led their family members astray or left them to fend for themselves on a sun-blasted savanna.
Oh, what Bill wouldn’t do to see everyone again, happy and free. Until then he would have to survive on dreams. But even Bill was amazed by the vividness and clarity of his fantasy. This sterile room’s relentless, buzzing whiteness, its lack of stimuli—all of this must have caused these hallucinations . . .
. . . because there was Maia in the window, so close and so real that Bill felt like he could almost reach out and touch her.
“Psst, Bill,” said the vision of Maia in the window. “Look alive. We’re breaking you out of here.”
30
IT HAD FINALLY happened. Bill had finally lost it. He was seeing things and hearing voices that weren’t really there. He had expected this to happen when he was in the savanna—exhausted, dehydrated, amid blurry waves of heat. But here, in the temperature-controlled lab, the visions were jarring. This didn’t bode well for his long-term prospects as a cage dweller.
The vision of Maia was still at the window, appealing to Bill. He turned away to try to shut her off.
“Excuse me, Bill,” Henri said.
“Now what?” Bill murmured, trying to sound sane.
“I believe you have a visitor.”
Henri pointed his tail to the window.
“Wait. You can see it, too?” Bill asked. His fur stood up, and his heart raced. “Tell me, Henri, what exactly do you see?”
Henri slowly craned his neck. Bill’s eyes followed his as they landed on the window together. There, Maia smiled impatiently and gave a stiff wave.
“A Teddycat,” Henri said. “Female, I believe, with . . .”
Bill flipped. Joy was shooting out of his ears.
“You see what I see! Maia is real!”
“Of course I’m real, you dodo,” Maia said. “Now snap out of it! We’re bouncing you out.”
“How’d you find me?” Bill asked, still reeling.
“I ran into these guys,” Maia said.
She turned around, and suddenly, two more faces emerged through the leaves. It was Luke and Diego, snouts pressed against the glass.
“Surprise!” Luke said.
“Good to see you, mate,” Diego said. “How they treatin’ ya?”
“Fine!” said Bill. “Well, not really. But I’m feeling much better now. And Elena’s here!”
“Elena!” Maia cried.
Her sister’s head shot up, ears perked.
“Elena!” Maia said again, tapping the glass. “Where are you?”
“Here I am,” Elena said. “Down here!”
“There you are!” said Maia, wiping her eyes, their love all but bursting through the wall. “I’ve come to get you, sweetie.”
“How did you find us, anyways?” Bill asked. “No, wait, how did you meet up with Diego and Luke? And where’s Omar?”
“We don’t have time for a pop quiz,” said Maia. “Omar is on lookout, down on the ground. I’ll explain the rest later.”
The joyful reunion was brief, as everyone remembered the dangers of their situation.
“What’s the play, mate?” Diego said. “You got this place all dialed in?”
“I wish,” said Bill. “The humans have it wrapped up tight. Do you guys have a plan?”
“Sure we do,” Maia said. “First things first, we need a distraction.”
Bill was still ecstatic but growing restless. Maia was taking too long to explain the plan. He preferred to be the one dishing plans out.
“Food is definitely going to be important if we want to pull this off,” said Maia. “But not your food, Bill.”
“So then whose food?”
“The human food.”
“The human food? They don’t bring that in here.”
Maia rolled her eyes. “They’re setting it up outside right now. It’s steaming away under another shelter, mere steps from your cages.”
“Mere steps!” said Luke.
“So you’re going to sabotage their dinner,” Bill said, stroking his chin, “and in the ensuing melee, break us out of here.”
“Basically,” Maia said. “Does that meet with your approval?”
Bill nodded. “So crazy it just might work.”
“Good,” said Maia. “Now . . .”
“But there are just a few potential hiccups,” Bill said.
Maia groaned.
“In no particular order: How do we guarantee that the one doing the distracting is going to be safe? How do we unseal the human exit? Who’s coming with us? Where do we go from here?”
“Do you want to be rescued or not?” said Maia.
“Of course I do,” Bill said, “but I don’t want to lose anyone else in the process. It’s a vicious cycle. You know that.”
“You’re wasting time and probably scaring Elena,” Maia said.
“We just have to do our best,” Elena said.
“That’s right, sweetie,” Maia said, glaring at Bill.
“Can’t argue with that,” Bill said. “So who’s the lure?”
“Well,” Maia said, “originally we were going to pull straws, but then . . .”
Omar popped up. “I volunteered.”
31
ANOTHER WHITE-CLOAKED HUMAN entered the room and refilled water and food. At the first wheeze of the entrance opening, Maia and the others folded back into the green abyss. Bill ate and drank lustily and encouraged the others to as well, especially Elena. They would need their strength, and who knew when they’d have their next meal.
The human stood there for a minute, watching them eat. Could the human tell what was going on just by observing them? Bill couldn’t imagine it was any way to read the situation, but still, it was nerve-racking, the way it stood guard, perspiring and breathing heavily in the middle of the room. Finally, the human put its paws under a st
ream of water that flowed out of a sleek metal contraption by the exit, then left.
Maia and the others reappeared at the window. “Okay, Omar is going to run across the table, cause a scene, and lead the humans on a wild macaw chase.” She paused, then turned toward a different set of cages. “Um, no offense.”
“None taken,” said Coco.
“With all that going on, nobody will hear Diego and me crash through this window. Careful,” she said, tapping the surface of the window, “I have a feeling this stuff is going to be sharp when it breaks. Bill, make sure everybody is paying attention.”
“Hey, everybody,” Bill announced. “Listen up. If you want out, we’re making our move. The Teddycat outside is named Maia. She’s going to be coming through that window in a few minutes, so watch your heads.”
A murmur of excitement whipped through the room. But Bill knew it would be difficult for some of the captive creatures to leave their cages. He needed their trust. “Hey, Henri,” said Bill, “can you help me out on this? Be my second-in-command?”
“I’m too old for that, Bill,” Henri said. “Thank you for the offer, but I am electing to stay here. I would only slow you down.”
“Nonsense,” Bill said, “we need you.”
“I’m staying put, too,” said Edgar the ocelot. “I’d hate to get caught up and land you all in trouble.”
“That’s just dead wrong, Edgar,” Bill said. “You’re, like, the fastest thing in the jungle.”
“It’s been too long,” said Edgar, as Henri sighed in agreement.
Bill stood on his hind legs and gripped the front of his cage. “All right, everybody, listen up. Maia—Elena’s sister and my friend—has been nice enough to come down here and draw up an escape plan. Now, you are all invited to come along, but I need to know before we get started and things start to unfold. So, a show of paws, claws, wings . . . whatever.”