Traps and Specters
Page 5
“About a half hour, I guess.”
“Good,” Mr. Darby said. “Then please follow me. We need a comfortable place to discuss some things.” He turned and started walking, his long trench coat dragging colorful leaves across the street.
“Uh-oh,” Ella said as she hoisted Ko up on her back. “When you start talking about comfortable places to talk, it usually means you have something uncomfortable to say.”
“Indeed I do,” Mr. Darby said. “Indeed I do.”
CHAPTER 11
THE SPECTERS
The scouts followed Mr. Darby past a tall brick building with a banner reading “Sector 98—Platypus Playground” to an open-walled wooden hut. Beneath a thatched roof were three circles of pillowy chairs, and Mr. Darby, with a sweep of his arm, invited the scouts to sit down. As Ella took a seat beside Richie, Ko jumped to the wide back of her chair, cradling it like a limb of a eucalyptus tree.
Noah watched a group of platypuses enter the City of Species from Platypus Playground. They had streamlined bodies and strange, rubbery bills that reminded Noah of giant shoehorns. One stepped into the hut, dragging its beaverlike tail and slapping the ground with its webbed feet.
Richie’s flashy running shoes caught the interest of the odd animal, which wandered over and sniffed at them, its bill swinging like a pinball flipper. When the platypus lifted its front feet up onto Richie’s shins, Richie flinched and pulled back, burying the greater part of his torso in the deep cushions of the chair.
Solana said, “He wants you to pet him.”
Richie eyes were wide, his lips pinched tight. “With … with my hand?”
“No …” Ella said. “With your butt.”
Richie slowly reached out. He touched the platypus’s head with two fingers and quickly pulled his arm back.
“There,” he said to the platypus while wiping his hand on his zoo uniform. “Now, go away. Shoo.”
The platypus jumped down and hurried off, both ends of its body—its bill and its tail—swinging in a similar way.
Everyone else took a seat except for Tank, who stood behind Mr. Darby and Solana, his beefy arms crossed over his beefy chest. Next to Richie was an empty chair, but when Richie motioned for Tank to sit in it, the big man waved off the invitation. Mr. Darby adjusted his sunglasses, cleared his throat with an attention-getting rumble, and turned to Ella. “DeGraff,” he said as he leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me what happened.”
Ella recounted the story—the tap on her window, DeGraff standing in her front yard, the prairie dogs jumping onto him, and finally his escape. Mr. Darby didn’t interrupt once. At one point a frown found his face; at another he began to rub his temples. When Ella was done talking, he turned to Tank and the two communicated something serious with their eyes.
“He’s coming for us,” Mr. Darby said at last. “For the first time since we drove him out of the Secret Zoo—the Shadowist is coming.”
The idea forced everyone into silence. The only sounds came from the animal traffic along the city streets—grunts and hisses and clomping hooves. Just outside the hut, leaves continue to fall from the heights like rain.
“Can we stop him?” Noah heard himself say. He’d never meant to speak—the words seemed to push out of him.
Mr. Darby rubbed the back of his neck in a worried way. “We have prepared for this for more than eighty years—our Crossers, our Descenders, our perimeter patrols. We knew this day might come, and we are ready. But …” The old man’s voice trailed off. He seemed to lack the courage to say more.
“But what?” Noah asked.
Mr. Darby kept quiet. He combed his fingers through his bushy beard and then stroked some wrinkles out of his velvet jacket. Finally, he said, “DeGraff is a man … a half man … a creature that can drift in and out of the shadows. As he gets closer to the zoo, his magic only grows.” He stopped, glanced at Tank, then turned his head to stare out at the City of Species. “How do we stop a thing like that?”
“You capture him!” Noah spat out. “We get to him before he can get to the shadows.”
“The shadows are everywhere.”
“But DeGraff can only use his magic in the deepest ones. We just need to grab him while he’s still in the light. The moonlight—that’s enough light, right?”
Mr. Darby continued to stare out at his beloved city in a contemplative way. “There is much we don’t know.” His voice was quiet, reserved. All of his usual animation was gone, and Noah hated the way he looked so defeated.
Megan spoke next: “Then we step up our efforts!”
Mr. Darby turned back to the group and forced his frown flat. “Exactly what we intend to do.” He paused for a few seconds, then went on. “Because you’re members of our Secret Society—and especially because you live in the neighborhood around the Clarksville Zoo—I feel you have a right to know something.” He leaned toward the four friends and announced, “We’re sending more Descenders into the outside world.”
Everyone became quiet again. Then Noah turned back to Mr. Darby and said, “But how? You can’t have a bunch of teenagers guarding the zoo all night!”
“You can if no one sees them.”
The scouts traded confused looks.
“Mr. Darby,” Ella said. “You guys might be able to hide tarsiers in the trees, but hiding one of these guys”—Ella pointed to Solana—“is not going to be so easy.”
A smile found the old man’s lips. “No? Then, please … tell me how many Descenders you see. In this hut, right now, with us.”
The scouts looked around.
“One,” Noah said. “Solana.”
“You’re certain?”
The scouts glanced around again. Ella stared at the rafters, and Richie peered beneath his chair.
“Just Solana,” Noah repeated.
Mr. Darby turned to Tank, and the two men smiled.
Tank said, “Looks like it’s going to work, Mr. D.”
The scouts just sat there, confused.
After a few seconds, Ella said, “Uhhh … you guys have peanut butter and crazy sandwiches for lunch?”
“Look more closely,” Mr. Darby said. “At the chairs. Look at the one beside Richie. Don’t see what’s there—see what isn’t there.”
Noah looked at the empty chair next to his friend. It had a high, arched back and bulged with thick padding. The fabric had swirling designs.
Noah said, “Mr. Darby … what are you getting at? I don’t see anything.”
“That’s precisely the point.”
Noah squinted toward the chair. Again he saw the height of its back, the rounded swell of the armrests, the—
His thoughts stopped. A depression in the seat cushion had just shifted.
See what isn’t there, Mr. Darby had said.
He realized something. The air above the seat was moving, as if a faint fog hovered just above the cushions. Then the movement stopped.
“Did you see?” Mr. Darby said.
Still squinting, Noah said, “I saw … something.”
“See it again.”
Richie was looking between Noah and the empty chair beside him. “Uhhh … what are you guys talking about?” He nervously leaned toward Ella. From the high back of Ella’s chair, Ko poked her snout toward Richie and sniffed the jittery pom-pom on his hat.
“I’m with Richie this time,” Ella said. “You two are totally freaking me out.”
Noah paid little mind to his friends. He kept focused on the chair—the space above its seat cushion. He saw nothing for a few seconds. Then, halfway up the back of the chair, something in the air made the colors and patterns in the cushion’s fabric move.
“Did you see?” Mr. Darby asked.
Noah didn’t move his eyes. “Yes.”
Now everyone was staring intensely at the space, even Ko. They were watching and waiting.
Seconds passed. New movement appeared at the base of the chair, almost at the ground.
“I saw it,” Megan said.
“Saw what?” asked Richie. He was leaning so far away from the mysterious chair that he was almost horizontal, his head nearly on Ella’s legs.
Another whirl of movement, this time at the forward edge of the seat cushion, in the place someone’s knees would be. As quickly as it came, it left.
“Saw it,” Noah said.
“Keep watching,” instructed Mr. Darby.
Something appeared along the high back of the chair. A speck of white. What first looked like a small ball revealed itself as something else. An eye. A human eye surrounded by a patch of light skin. Seeming to hover in space, the eye was staring back at everyone else.
Richie yelped and flipped over his armrest, landing in Ella’s lap before rolling to the floor.
The eye blinked once, twice. Then it was gone again. Noah watched as the seat cushions swelled back to their normal shape. It was as if someone had risen out of the chair.
In front of the chair, the air moved. Then again, this time farther away. And again, farther still. It was certain, now—something had risen out of the seat and was advancing toward Mr. Darby and Tank.
“What is it?” Megan asked.
New spots of movement suddenly began to appear above and below one another. The areas expanded and joined, and the once-shapeless thing began to take form. Arms, legs, torso. A ghostly human that Noah could see clear through.
“Come meet the scouts,” Mr. Darby said to the thing taking shape.
A small piece of the developing figure broke free and fell to the ground. Then another piece, and another. As the fragments hit the floor, they came into view, filling with color and contour. Noah could barely believe his eyes. Chameleons. They skittered across the wooden planks.
“No way,” Megan gasped.
More and more chameleons began to rain down. They had beady eyes and knobby heads. A few had horns. And they were all colors: green with blue stripes, teal with brown dots, even full rainbows in speckled patterns. They fell like chunks of snow from a melting snowman. The details of the person began to appear: the fair skin of a hand, the shoulder of a white shirt, a green pants leg.
By the time at least twenty chameleons had dropped to the ground, a young teenage girl was revealed. She wore camouflage cargo pants covered in pouches and pockets, a few with velvet patches. She had on black hiking boots with bright yellow stripes, and a pullover sweatshirt with a deep hood. The sides of her hair were clipped to dramatically different lengths, and her bangs fell at an angle down to her chin, concealing most of her face. She had her hands on her hips, her elbows out. The chameleons lay at her feet, a spill of spectacular color on the dull brown wood.
“Scouts, meet Evie,” Mr. Darby casually said.
Evie nodded at the scouts, who were too stunned to move.
“And the others?” Mr. Darby said.
Evie tipped up her chin and said, “Come out, girls.”
In different places, the air began to move. The swirling spots quickly took on human shapes as chameleons rained down. Within seconds five young teenage girls were revealed—two sitting on the wooden rail, two perched on the arms of the chairs in the nearby circle, and one standing next to Tank. They were similarly dressed in hooded shirts and cargo pants with big pockets and velvet patches.
For what seemed a long time, no one said a word. It was Mr. Darby who finally broke the silence: “My dear scouts, I’d like you to meet our friends the Specters.”
“‘Specters,’” Richie said, repeating the word. Then he translated it into something new: “Ghosts.”
“They’ve been here all along?” Ella asked. “Since we came into the hut?”
“Heavens, no!” Mr. Darby answered. “They’ve been following you since long before then. Since Koala Kourtyard—am I correct, Solana?”
The Descender nodded.
From his spot on the ground, Richie asked, “Am I the only one finding that a bit creepy?”
Ella stood up, grabbed Richie’s shirt, and yanked him to his feet. “Seriously?” she said, as if suddenly embarrassed by her friend. She straightened Richie’s gigantic collar and gently shoved him into his seat, where the air trapped in the big cushions gushed out with a loud farting sound. To Evie, Ella said, “Nice trick. You mind telling us how it works?”
Evie glanced at Mr. Darby. She opened her mouth and then closed it.
“It’s okay,” Mr. Darby said. “They’re one of us. They’ve been Crossers for a year—they have a right to know.”
Evie stared at Ella from behind her angled bangs. She touched a velvet patch on her pants pocket, started to say something, and then stopped. “You tell them,” she said at last.
Mr. Darby said, “The chameleons do what chameleons do. But like most things in the Secret Zoo, on a far grander scale.”
The old man reached down, swept up a bright green chameleon, and raised it to his face. With a fingertip, he delicately stroked the small lizard’s back, saying, “Chameleons have transparent skin. Beneath their skin, they have special cells called chromatophores. These cells have a pigment that allows the chameleons to create color.” Mr. Darby took a few steps forward, lowered his hand, and dropped the chameleon into a large pocket in the side of Evie’s cargo pants. “Some of the Specters’ pockets are lined with velvet. Magic flows from the velvet into the chameleons, modifying their chromatophores, permitting them to take on colors and tones in a very sophisticated way.”
The chameleon escaped from Evie’s pocket and crawled up her leg. As it went, small pieces of Evie seemed to vanish. The chameleon made its way to her shoulder and stopped, leaving a wake of apparent invisibility across her torso and leg—it looked as if a long, two-inch strip of the girl had somehow been removed.
“The chameleons spread out across the Specters, blending them into their surroundings. This act of camouflage is controlled by their chameleons’ thoughts—they control the process.”
Having spent a year crosstraining in the Secret Zoo, Noah had seen the impossible made possible too many times to count. This was no exception.
“Does it … hurt?” Megan asked.
“Nothing hurts,” Evie injected into the conversation. “Not for long.”
Mr. Darby smiled and said, “I am told it tingles.”
“So the girls just walk around all day covered in lizards?” Ella said. “That’s got to make it pretty tough on the social life—not to mention taking a pee.”
“The chameleons only come out when they’re needed.”
“But where do they come from?” Noah asked. He again noticed the velvet patches on the big pockets in the Specters’ pants. “I have a feeling those pockets aren’t normal.”
Mr. Darby smiled. “You’re right about that. The chameleons portal into their pockets the same way we portal into the Secret Zoo’s many sectors. In Streets of Transparency, the chameleon sector in the Secret Zoo, there’s a special area called the Portal Place. It’s used only by the Specters. Each pocket opens to the Portal Place, and chameleons portal when they’re needed by the Specters. But you’ve seen this magic before.”
Ella said, “Yeah, but we’ve never seen animals jumping in and out of peoples’ pants. That’s a big-time new trick.”
Noah turned to the chameleons. They blanketed a good part of the floor and clung to the chairs and perimeter railing, saturating the hut with bright oranges, purples, reds, and blues. Their bulbous eyes rolled in their sockets, each staring off in its own direction.
Mr. Darby turned to Tank and said, “Mr. Pangbourne—would you care to formally introduce the Specters?”
“Sure thing, Mr. D.” As the big man plodded into the middle of the circle, the chameleons scattered away from his massive feet. He clapped Evie on the shoulder and said, “As you know, this is Evie. She sort of leads the pack.”
Evie nodded toward the scouts.
Tank gestured to the two girls sitting on chairs in the neighboring circle. “Over there are Kaleena and Jordynn.”
Tank motioned to the two girls seated on the railing and said, “That’s Elakshi and Lee-Lee.”
Elakshi had lustrous hair that trailed down her back and shoulders. Her eyes were nearly as dark as her coal-black hair. She wore a pair of white camouflage pants, black boots, and a black hoodie. Lee-Lee had long bangs that parted to one side. Her straight, collar-length hair curved inward to a point just below her chin, covering her ears and the sides of her face. Her plump lips were set in a smirk. She wore dark green pants and a thin hooded sweatshirt that clung to her arms and waist.
Tank gestured to where he’d been standing behind Mr. Darby. “And back there’s Sara.”
Sara had a punk look. The top of her blond hair was combed to a Mohawk, and long bangs fell to one side of her face just above her chin. She wore black eye shadow, glossy lipstick, and strips of pink blush. Like her friends, she was dressed in camouflage pants and a hooded shirt. She also had a green bandana tied around her arm.
Tank turned back to the scouts. “The Specters. That’s all of them.”
Ella said, “You sure there’s not like a hundred more creeping around? Or how about in the Clarksville Zoo? They could be tiptoeing through our neighborhood!”
Mr. Darby stepped toward the scouts, the chameleons scattering at his feet, and raised one eyebrow above his sunglasses. “Not yet.”
“Uh-oh …” Richie said. “What are you guys planning?”
The old man came out with it: “Operation Divide and Descend. An action against DeGraff. An aggressive assault which involves posting the Specters in your very own yards.”
CHAPTER 12
OPERATION DIVIDE AND DESCEND
“Let’s hear it,” Noah said.
Mr. Darby said, “In addition to our normal activities, we’ll send the Specters into your neighborhood—at dusk, when the shadows are fullest and DeGraff is most likely to move. We’ll divide them around the border of the Clarksville Zoo. Unlike the tarsiers, who need to hide in the trees, the Specters will be able to move along the ground. If one spots DeGraff, she’ll alert the Descenders. And together, they’ll do what the Descenders do best. Descend—descend with their full power.”