by Mike Storey
They went around the room. Thankfully, Elena was on board. Duffy was noncommittal. Miguel and Coco were ecstatic. Vic said he thought they were all doomed but hey, why not? Edgar said he was in only if Henri was in. Still, Henri demurred.
“Come on,” Bill said. “Just think about all the life you’ve got left to live out there.”
“I suppose it would be nice to feel useful again,” Henri said, his tail swinging.
“Yes!” said Bill. “Let’s put that tail back to work.”
They heard the clatter of the human dinner before anything else. Funny-looking tools and vessels made of metal went flying upward in sudden confusion as the white sheet—gripped between Omar’s teeth—disappeared beneath the altar upon which they dined.
The volume rose even higher as the humans’ shock turned to bedlam. They were hollering, running in circles, chasing after Omar. The flimsy wooden things they propped their backsides on tipped backward. Hot, greasy water spilled from a sizzling contraption and splashed over everything.
It was the perfect cover: The window broke easily, and the shards—which were just as sharp as Maia had predicted—fell safely to the floor.
Maia and Diego slipped down into the room and immediately went to Bill’s cage.
“No,” he protested, “get Elena first. That’s why you’re here. Don’t worry about me.”
“You free the older ones first,” Maia said. “Many paws, light work.”
“I never thought of it that way,” Bill said.
“It’s one of those seemingly selfish but secretly smart moves,” said Maia, as she unlatched his cage. “Kind of your specialty, Bill.”
Bill was free in seconds, and the three of them got to work uncaging the others. Maia scooped up Elena, and the two of them spun in circles of happy relief. Bill unlocked Henri’s cage, and for the first time they stood face-to-face. “Nice to formally meet you,” said Bill.
“The pleasure is all mine,” said Henri, promptly turning to free Edgar and Coco.
Maia freed Miguel, which just left Diego and Vic, who were engaged in some kind of standoff. “Let’s go, guys,” said Bill, as he rooted around the room, looking for extra food to bindle up and take with them. “Grab Vic, and we’re out of here.”
“Little guy gives me the creeps, mate,” Diego said.
“Right back at you,” Vic hissed.
Bill found the feed sack and tossed it to Henri, who clasped it with his tail. “After everything we’ve been through, Diego, this is where you draw the line?”
“He’s upside-down,” Diego said, shuddering. “Makes my fur crawl.”
“Vic is a friend, and you need friends to survive in the jungle,” Bill said. “You know that.”
“Oh, all right,” Diego said, swiping at the latch. “Come on out, ya little bugger.”
THE SUDDEN BURST into freedom delivered quite a shock to the captives. With the exception of Elena, who was in Maia’s arms, they were woozy, still finding their bearings. Meanwhile, Omar continued to cause commotion. The window, while large enough for everyone to fit through, was awkwardly sized, and was now rimmed with sharp shards that clung stubbornly to the sides. Those who were not natural climbers (all except Maia, Diego, Henri, and Bill) or who couldn’t fly (like Vic and Coco could) would have to go slowly to avoid getting sliced and snagged on the shards.
Maia and Elena went through first. Vic and Coco flew out, with Miguel catching a ride on Coco’s back. One by one they disappeared into the leaves, safely out of sight.
This left Diego and Bill with Duffy, Edgar, and Henri. Henri was an able climber in his younger, wild days, but such a long time in a cage had taken its toll.
“We’re going to help each other get out of here,” Bill said. “Don’t worry, we won’t leave without anyone.”
A shrill call—like nothing Bill had ever heard come out of any animal or human—rang out from somewhere in the camp.
“That can’t be good,” Diego said.
“Better hurry,” Bill said.
They pushed cages against the wall and helped Duffy up to the window. His unwieldy body rolled over the ledge. He was jiggly and ticklish, a bad combination.
“Grab hold of the branches, Duffy,” said Bill. “Grab hold and pull yourself out.”
Instead, the sloth grabbed a cluster of leaves and ate it, closing his eyes, smiling dreamily.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep, Duff!” Henri said.
Edgar whimpered anxiously.
Outside, the commotion seemed to be settling down some. It wouldn’t be long before the humans took stock of the situation and decided to check on the captives.
One lesson Bill had learned on this mission: It usually didn’t do any good to holler at a slowpoke. That just rattled them. But it wasn’t every day that Bill shepherded a multispecies exodus from a human fortress, so he figured this might be an exception to the rule and gave it a shot.
“Get a move on, Duffy!” he shouted. “I’m not going down because you fell asleep halfway through an escape!”
Henri dropped the food he was holding—still secure in its human-made pouch—and balanced himself against the wall. His tail rose up behind him and curled around Duffy’s slumping midsection. The sloth’s snores turned high-pitched as the graying fur around Henri’s eyes narrowed to a brilliant fold of white.
With gasps and grunts Henri used his tail to lift the sloth over the ledge and into the trees.
“Well, that couldn’t have gone worse,” Edgar said.
“Good news,” Bill said. “You’re up next.”
“Bad news,” Edgar said. “I’m afraid of heights.”
“No, you are not,” Bill said.
“I’m afraid it’s true,” Henri said.
The alien-sounding shriek was still bleating. The humans’ distraction would soon be over, and it wouldn’t be long before they closed in on the source of the mischief. They had limited time.
“Look,” Bill said. “I’ve lived my life high up in the trees. I can climb higher than you can imagine. You know what I say? All you have to do is get in the swing. Find the rhythm of the jungle and you’ll be walking on air in no time.”
“Ah, you see . . . I belong on the ground,” Edgar said. “It’s my nerves.”
“Sometimes we have to adapt,” Bill said. “It’s painful . . .”
“But necessary,” said Henri, as his tail snaked around Edgar’s sleek thorax, squeezed, and tossed him out the window.
“Nice!” Bill said. He jumped up onto the cage, skittered up the wall, and leaned out the window. “Edgar, you okay?”
There was only a rustle; all else was drowned out by the constant shrieking, the humans, the panic.
“Hey, Edgar?” he said again. “You make it?”
“Henri needs to work on his manners,” Edgar said, safely tangled in the brush.
“Quick and painless,” Bill said. “What could be better?”
Bill and Henri were the only remaining captives. The old monkey was a tad larger than Bill had predicted, but he had proved to be an invaluable part of the escape. It was on Bill to make good on his promises. He felt the burden of leadership settle on his shoulders.
No, wait. That burden was just Henri, preparing to vault the window by climbing up Bill’s body.
“Steady,” Henri murmured.
“Right back at you,” said Bill.
Henri’s opposable thumbs were no doubt very helpful in the wild, but at that moment they were really digging into Bill’s neck.
“Somehow I’ve . . .” Henri huffed.
“How did you get spun around like that?” asked Bill.
“I’ve absolutely no idea,” Henri said. “But now I’m stuck.”
Bill ground his paws into the floor and tried to push Henri out by the legs. It was no use. His backside was out the wi
ndow while his limbs still dangled in the lab. Bill and the monkey met eyes—Henri wore a pained expression. He was embarrassed and afraid. Bill was trying to brainstorm what to do next, when he heard a familiar sound.
The big hatch wheezed open again, and a disheveled human entered. Bill and Henri froze. The human was only steps away, kicking mud off its feet. The white shroud was soiled, streaked with food and grass stains. It seemed Omar had really caused a ruckus. He’d performed a truly heroic feat. Bill felt happy for his friend, and proud, as he pushed and pushed the spider monkey.
But Henri wouldn’t budge.
The human was standing before the mounted water fountain, wetting small fibrous scraps and dabbing them on the stains. Miraculously, it still hadn’t noticed the commotion by the window.
“Use your tail,” Bill pleaded.
“I’m trying,” Henri said. “There’s nothing out there!”
“We’re here!” Maia said from the other side. “Grab on to us!”
“That’s Maia,” Bill said. “She’ll pull you out.”
“Ow!” said Henri, but finally his body began to move.
The human kept fussing with his stained garments. He was like a cat, licking himself in the corner. It seemed unlikely that such a fastidious creature would survive in the jungle, but Bill could only be thankful for each blessed additional second.
“Hurry!” Bill said. “We’ve got zero time!”
“Oooh,” groaned Henri. “This is most unpleasant. I told you this was going to happen! Through a window. Absurd! I haven’t been able to fit through a window since . . .”
“You can . . . do . . . it,” Bill said, pushing with every fiber he had, his muscles clenched and sore, his claws digging into the ground. “Maia, pull!”
“We’re trying!” Maia said.
“He’s a big boy, mate,” Diego grunted.
All at once, Henri slipped through the window frame with an audible pop!
The human looked up.
The white shroud was wet, and the hides tied to its feet had been kicked off. Bill locked eyes with the human. He felt the cold stare bore through him. There was a lot he wanted to say to it. He wanted to explain the pain the humans had caused, chastise the arrogance of snatching a child in a cage and taking her away. He wanted to make them feel the loss of Felix, the strife in Cloud Kingdom. But there wasn’t time, and the human wouldn’t have understood.
Instead Bill climbed up the wall and vaulted out the window, back into the brush. The human just stood there, dumbfounded and helpless.
BILL QUICKLY REACHED the others, who were huddled in a small clearing, stretching their uncaged muscles and checking one another for scrapes and other injuries. Vic and Coco were perched on a crooked branch. Henri and Edgar were lumped in the corner, overcome with emotion. Luke and Miguel were fast friends, slapping fives. And there was Maia, cradling Elena, sweet relief streaming from her eyes.
“Everybody good?” Bill asked.
“Amazingly, yes. I think so,” Maia said.
“We’re going home, Bill,” Elena said.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about, Elena!” said Bill. “But where were you hiding that fighting spirit back in the lab?”
“She was just playing it cool,” Maia said. “Weren’t you, girlie?”
“Yeah,” Elena said, giggling.
The shrill shriek was still blaring. Blinking, roaring human machines were coming to life. Black clouds billowed out of steel tubes. There were shouts and slamming, and an ominous whirring as a strong wind kicked up and blew the brush sideways. Soon their escape route would be flattened, overrun.
“Let’s get outta here,” said Diego.
“Right behind you,” said Edgar.
“Wait a minute,” said Bill, “where’s Omar?”
“We’re not sure,” Maia said.
“We can’t leave without him!” said Bill.
“He volunteered . . .” Maia said. “For a job he knew was dangerous.”
“Yeah, for the most dangerous job,” Bill said. “We wouldn’t have made it out if it weren’t for him.”
“He knows the rendezvous point,” said Maia. “And the backup rendezvous. He’ll be there. He’ll be fine.”
“What if he’s not?” Bill said. “What if these humans call for Joe? He’s still out there!”
“We have to leave now, Bill.”
“Not without Omar!”
“We gotta go, mate,” Diego said.
“There are others involved, Bill,” said Maia. “You don’t know the whole story. Don’t blow this escape now, not when we’re so close. Please, just trust me.”
Bill bit his lip. The chaotic sounds surrounding them were completely foreign, but he knew that the news of their escape was spreading throughout the site. The humans were mobilizing. It didn’t feel right to leave Omar behind, but Maia was right: It wasn’t his plan. His mind swirled. It seemed like no matter where he was or whom he was with, doing the right thing—if the right thing could even be identified—was never easy.
Bill sighed. Omar was a brave Teddycat. Maia and the others had gotten them this far. He would have to trust his friends to carry them home.
The wind picked up, loud and pressing as it chopped the shriek into a mournful wail.
“Okay,” Bill said. “Let’s go.”
32
THE FUGITIVES HUSTLED through the wilderness, away from the camp. Bill felt his instincts slowly returning. The air was warm and fragrant, filled with the buzz and stench of the jungle. He shook his head in disbelief. Teddycats were not meant to be locked up in cages! Oh, well, the humans had been forced to learn that lesson the hard way.
Bill was impressed with Maia’s skills. She moved with the grace and purpose of a warrior, all while carrying Elena. The others were doing their best to keep up. Old Diego was tough as ever, limping out front, a natural scout. And Bill was impressed by the captive animals, too. Edgar had taken his words to heart—he really could be the fastest thing around—and Henri had successfully shaken off the trauma of fitting through the window. The group moved with a desperate cohesiveness down the narrow path.
Suddenly, Bill was struck by something Maia had said back there. There are others involved. Who was she talking about? Where were they now?
The sounds of the humans receded as they drove deeper into the jungle, but some of the weaker trees still shook from the wind, and the sharp smell of their smoke still lingered.
“I hate to ask this,” Henri said between pants, “but how much farther are we going?”
“Not long now,” Luke said.
“Just keep low and stay moving,” said Maia.
“Yeah, what she said,” said Bill.
The path grew more treacherous, etched as it was into the face of a guano-streaked rock face. They began a heady, scrambling ascent, until the trail dead-ended at a spooky clearing.
“Now where?” Bill asked.
“Quick, in here,” Maia said, pointing into the darkness. Bill squinted. It was a large cave, pitch-black and dripping with condensation.
“No way,” Edgar said.
“Suit yourself,” said Maia.
“Looks just dandy to me,” Vic said.
“Exactly my point,” Edgar said.
Bill wasn’t too excited about the cave either, but he didn’t want to appear ungrateful or intimidated.
“I’ll stand watch,” said Coco, spreading her wings.
“Me too,” said Bill, puffing his chest and crossing his arms.
“Bill,” Maia said, “don’t be a clown. Get in here.”
“Fine,” said Bill.
Somehow, the inside of the cave was even darker than Bill could have imagined. Every drip echoed endlessly as they slunk deeper and deeper into the abyss. Then, suddenly, there was light. A torch. He blinked furiously
as the flames soared and settled. Huddled there before him was a large group of Teddycats.
“Bill!” It was a voice Bill would recognize anywhere.
“Mom!”
Marisol rushed out of the darkness and threw her arms around her son. Bill was overwhelmed with love, relief, and confusion.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
Marisol pulled back. Her eyes were filled with tears. She choked back a sob, then squeezed her son again.
“What happened?” Bill asked.
He figured the longer she went without answering, the worse it had to be. His heart sank as the silence stretched and deepened. The Teddycats looked down, averted their eyes. Their faces were drawn tight with sorrow. There were Elders, Teddycats from all over the Kingdom. And there was Omar!
“Omar! Buddy! You made it!” Bill said, forgetting himself and the situation for a moment.
“Hey, Bill,” said Omar, but his spirits were clearly just as low as those of the others.
“Mom, what happened? How did you guys find us?”
Marisol was still shaking. She clutched him so close Bill could barely breathe.
“Somebody tell me what’s going on!”
Luke stepped forward. “After the human captured you in the savannah, we started tracking you right away. We followed you and the human back to the jungle. We were just a few hours behind you, following a fresh trail, when we met up with Maia and your mom and the others. They were . . .”
Luke mumbled something and slipped back into the darkness.
“They were . . . what?” said Bill. “Then what happened? Why won’t somebody just tell me? I can’t help until I know what’s going on!”
The Teddycats whimpered.
“You were right,” Maia said, stepping into the light. “You were right about Cloud Kingdom, Bill. We can’t go back there. Right after you left, the humans attacked. They knew exactly where we were, and they knew exactly what they wanted. They went on a rampage. They . . . they took the claws, and the lives, of so many. We’ve lost brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, friends and family. We’re the only ones left, Bill. We’re the only ones who made it out alive.”