Traps and Specters

by Bryan Chick

  Noah said, “It tingles.”

  “Unspent magic. It used to be part of a curtain.” He held out his open palm. “I’ll take that back now.”

  As Noah handed the flag over, Mr. Darby said, “The game is a way for us to see how you compare to the Descenders—how far you’ve come as Crossers over the past year. With the sighting of DeGraff, the Secret Society is evaluating all its defenses.”

  “Where does the game take place?” Noah asked.

  “Wherever the flag goes. Here probably. And in the Secret Zoo.”

  “But what if someone sees us running around?”

  Mr. Darby said, “They won’t if you keep to the shadows.”

  “Speaking of the shadows,” Richie said. “Who’s on patrol?”

  “Substitutes. And of course the Specters are helping now as well.”

  “The rules are simple,” Tank said, bringing the conversation back. “Get the flag and bring it to ZOOasis. Return it …” His gaze stopped on a large marble vase at the edge of a flowerbed. He hoisted it, dumped its soil, and set it in the middle of the path. “Right here,” he finished. “You can steal the flag from your opponent at any point. And any use of the Grottoes or the gateways is fair game. Same with the animals—leverage them if you can. And know that most of our furry fellows are going to be trying to keep the flag away from all eight of you guys.”

  “Huh?” Noah said. “Why?”

  Tank ignored the question and, to the scouts, said, “Remember all the things we just talked about in PizZOOria—the Grottoes and the ways they connect the zoos. Remember the shortcuts.”

  Noah tried to ask another question, but Tank tossed the flag into the air and yelled, “Go!”

  A chickadee swooped down, snatched the flag, and flew toward Metr-APE-olis. The Descenders immediately ran across the grass after it, disappearing behind a row of bushes.

  The scouts simply stood there, a bit shocked.

  “Usually the flag doesn’t come to you,” Tank pointed out.

  The four friends traded nervous glances and then took off. Just like that, the game was on.

  CHAPTER 15

  GAME ON

  The scouts squeezed through a hedge and dodged a concession stand. At least fifty yards divided them from the Descenders. As the teenagers turned a corner of Metr-APE-olis, the scouts lost sight of them.

  “We’ll never catch these guys!” Richie said.

  “We don’t need to catch them!” said Ella. “We just need to get the flag!”

  The scouts rounded Metr-APE-olis just in time to see the chickadee drop the flag over Little Dogs of the Prairie. Before it could hit the hillside, a prairie dog jumped to its haunches, chomped into it, then dove into a tunnel and disappeared.

  “Did you see that?” Ella said.

  “That’s what Tank was talking about,” said Megan. “The animals … they’re trying to keep the flag away from us.”

  The Descenders rushed down the stairs leading to the concrete tunnels that ran beneath the sandy hillside. Set into the tunnels were clear, plastic domes that let kids stand up and gaze out across the exhibit. As the Descenders’ heads poked up, the prairie dogs quickly piled across one another on the clear caps. Once enough weight covered a dome, it began to turn, slowly at first, then more and more rapidly, flinging prairie dogs across the plain. Within seconds, all the domes stopped, their empty spaces revealing how the Descenders had disappeared into the Grottoes the same way Ella and Richie had when they first discovered the Secret Zoo.

  “C’mon!” Noah said as they reached the exhibit. “Let’s go!”

  He led his friends to the bottom of the steps, where they crawled into different tunnels, as the Descenders had done. Noah rose, his head partly filling the dome above him. Across the hillside, he watched the other scouts’ heads rise above ground like giant gophers’. The prairie dogs immediately went to work, piling onto the domes. Within seconds, the clear cap around Noah’s head dropped a few inches with a loud click, and his floor began to turn. It gained more and more speed, and then dropped several feet into the dark earth. When it stopped, Noah crawled into a new tunnel, and the platform he’d been on sprang back into the air, sealing the hole above. The other scouts soon joined him.

  “Let’s go!” Ella said.

  They crawled in a line down the dimly lit passage. The tunnel, filled with prairie dogs, branched off in dozens of directions. At the end of the main passage, a swaying velvet curtain revealed the direction the Descenders had gone.

  “They’re headed to Little Dogs of the Secret Prairie!” Noah said. “And that’s where the flag’s going! C’mon!”

  “Wait!” Megan said. “Let’s split up! Ella and I—we’ll take a different sector and try to head off the flag at the City of Species!”

  Noah nodded. “You’re going to have to be quick.” He scanned the plates above the tunnels with velvet curtains and read off the names: “The Secret Ostrich Island,” “The Secret Kangaroo Kampground,” “The Secret Elephant Event.” “Take Kangaroo Kampground,” he advised. “You can use the tents to quickly portal across the sector. Plus it opens in the City of Species right beside Little Dogs of the Secret Prairie.”

  “Good idea,” Ella said. “You’d make Tank proud.” The girls crawled into the Secret Kangaroo Kampground and were gone.

  Noah said, “Richie—we’ve got to hurry!”

  Together, the boys rushed forward and chased after the Descenders into the Secret Zoo.

  CHAPTER 16

  LITTLE DOGS OF THE SECRET PRAIRIE

  Noah and Richie stepped into Little Dogs of the Secret Prairie and were met with a blast of hot air and blinding light. A dusty grassland reached out in all directions, patches of tall grass and cacti rising from the landscape. The hard ground was pitted with countless holes that hundreds of prairie dogs dove in and out of. Far across the sector, a colorful light blinked on and off—the entrance into the City of Species. About fifty yards from the cave, the Descenders chased the prairie dog with the flag. The teenagers hadn’t geared up, which meant the scouts still had a chance.

  “There they are!” Noah called out. “Let’s go!”

  The two boys raced forward, their feet sweeping up clouds of dirt. Far ahead, the prairie dog with the flag dove into the ground. The Descenders came to a sudden stop, and Tameron dropped to his knees and shoved his arm into the hole, all the way up to his shoulder. When he pulled out his empty hand, the Descenders began to walk in circles, scanning other holes.

  The scouts leaped over prairie dogs like miniature hurdles and quickly caught up to the four teenagers.

  To Noah, Sam said, “There’s no way you can win this. You know that, right?”

  Noah shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  Prairie dogs were racing around in zigzags, diving in and out of the holes. None carried the flag. Noah considered the sweeping web of tunnels beneath them and realized the flag could be anywhere across the prairie by now.

  Sam suddenly took off running. He smacked his wrists against his hips and raised his arms out to his sides, opening zippers across his jacket. Feathers spilled out from their leathery confines and fell neatly into place across his back. At the same time, thin telescopic rods shot out from the ends of his sleeves, spreading more feathers. In only a few seconds, his wings were complete, and the Descender jumped into flight. Twenty feet above, he hunted for the flag, his flapping wings stirring up dust.

  Taking Sam’s lead, Hannah tugged the pull-loops on her boots, and her thick soles swelled to five times their original size. She sprang forward, crossing twenty feet to where a prairie dog had just poked its head up from a hole. She landed, a cloud of dirt swirling up around her legs, and plucked the prairie dog out of its hole. She checked for the flag, saw it wasn’t there, and dropped the animal. Then she lunged to another distant spot and scanned the holes.

  “Real fair …” Richie said.

  Tameron, standing nearby, heard this. “Kid … fare is for the bus.”

  N
oah stared overhead as Sam flew by. Coasting on wide wings, the Descender looked like something out of a fairy tale. His long silver feathers fluttered as he flapped his arms a single time, creating a gust of wind that raised dust and scattered prairie dogs.

  “Noah!”

  Noah turned to see Richie on his knees, his arm buried to his shoulder in a hole. His big glasses lay in the dirt. “A little help over here?”

  Noah rushed over. “What are you doing?”

  “My arm!” He kept his scream to a whisper. “A prairie dog popped up with the flag! I tried to grab it and this happened!” He pulled back to show how his arm wouldn’t budge.

  Noah squatted down. “What do you want me to do? Pull?”

  “I sure don’t want you to push!”

  Noah eased in behind Richie and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’ll pull on the count of three,” Noah said. “You push. Got it?”

  Richie nodded.

  “One …”

  Noah braced himself, planting one foot.

  “Two …”

  He tightened his grip.

  “Three!”

  He squeezed and pulled, and Richie’s arm popped out like the cork from a champagne bottle. The boys shot backward and fell into a heap, their arms and legs entwined. A few prairie dogs crept up and sniffed Noah’s cheek and Richie’s rear end.

  The ground around Noah suddenly shook. He tipped his head back to see a pair of purple leather boots—platform boots with huge, ten-inch soles. Hannah. From his position on the ground, Hannah’s bright red bangs seemed to be cascading down her face. She smirked and said, “That’s certainly the first time a Crosser’s been outwitted by a prairie dog.”

  Before Noah could respond, something exploded from the ground about thirty feet to his left. What looked like a cloud, Noah realized, were butterflies, thousands of them. Different sizes and patterns, they flew in erratic paths, weaving through one another as they streamed from a three-feet-wide hole in the ground, their wings snapping color across the blue canvas of the sky.

  “No way …” Richie marveled.

  More and more butterflies filled the air. Prairie dogs scattered and flashed their round rear ends as they dove into holes. As Sam flew over the butterflies, his wings drew them across his body and the Descender seemed to burst with reds and blues and yellows.

  “What are they doing?” Richie asked.

  Hannah stood with her hands on her hips, perfectly calm. “It’s a handoff.”

  “Huh?”

  Before Hannah could answer, a prairie dog jumped out of the ground with the flag in his mouth. He took a few steps toward the hole with the butterflies and dropped the flimsy flag inside it. The butterflies immediately reversed direction and disappeared back into the hole. Within seconds they were gone, and so was the flag.

  Sam touched down and folded his wings across his back. To his friends, he said, “Let’s go!” and fell feetfirst into the butterfly’s hole. Tameron and Solana chased after him. Hannah lifted her eyebrows at the scouts and allowed a big bubble to burst against her face. With the quick lap of her tongue, she wiped away the residue, then dove more than twenty feet through the air and disappeared headfirst into the hole, leaving the scouts alone with the prairie dogs.

  “Wow,” Richie said after a few seconds. He picked up his glasses and planted them squarely on his face. “That kind of stuff—you know, the earth exploding with butterflies—it never really stops impressing me.”

  Noah said, “You know where that tunnel goes, right?”

  “My guess is the Secret Butterfly Nets.”

  Noah nodded. They ran to the hole and stared into it. A wave of fear crossed over Noah. The scouts had never been to the sector attached to the butterfly house in the Clarksville Zoo. For them, this was uncharted ground.

  “What do we do?” Richie asked.

  “Exactly what the Descenders did. We jump in.”

  “And what if we go splat on the other side?”

  “We won’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Think about it, Richie. Butterfly Nets.”

  Richie’s jaw fell as he realized what Noah was getting at.

  Marlo suddenly touched down on Noah’s shoulder.

  “You’re just in time,” Noah said to the kingfisher. “Tell Ella and Megan there’s been a change of plans—we’re headed to the Secret Butterfly Nets!”

  Marlo glanced into the big hole, chirped once, then flew into the air.

  Noah turned to Richie and said, “C’mon—we got a flag to catch.”

  One at a time, they jumped feetfirst into the hole, leaving Little Dogs of the Secret Prairie behind.

  CHAPTER 17

  MARLO LEADS THE WAY

  Crossing the Secret Kangaroo Kampground was no problem for Ella and Megan. They’d trained in here dozens of times and knew the best way across it. Over a forested campground sat hundreds of tents with velvet flaps for entrance doors. Used to test the magic for gateways throughout the Secret Zoo, the tents portaled to one another. The quickest path across the sector involved using the best combination of portals. Ella and Megan magically made their way across in a matter of minutes.

  As the girls stepped through the magical divide into the City of Species, they immediately spotted Blizzard. The coal-black tip of his long snout twitched and wriggled as he pulled the familiar scents of Ella and Megan out of the air. He lowered his rump and the girls climbed on, Ella in the forward spot.

  Ella said, “Take us to Little Dogs of the Secret Prairie!”

  The polar bear softly growled and headed off down the street. But he only got a few feet before Marlo swooped down from the treetops and landed on his snout, chirping wildly. Blizzard stopped and paid attention. Then the kingfisher jumped into a new direction in the air and the big bear followed.

  “What’s going on?” Ella asked. “Why are we turning?”

  “Looks like there’s been a change of plans,” Megan answered.

  “I hope these guys know what they’re doing.”

  As usual, the City of Species teemed with commotion and excitement. Animals strolled down colorful sidewalks and skipped across branches. Children rode lions and giraffes, and adults, dressed in thin green jackets, marched with clipboards and briefcases.

  Blizzard chased Marlo down a wide, dark alley. The polar bear splashed through a shallow river full of fish and turned onto a new street, frightening off a group of skittish emus. He soon stopped at a glass building with ten sides—a decagon. Rising more than a dozen stories into the treetops, its clear panels were framed with steel. A wide banner read “Sector 77—The Secret Butterfly Nets.” Inside, an unimaginable number of butterflies were sweeping across the glass, flashing their vibrant hues.

  “That’s what a tornado trapped in a crayon factory would look like,” Ella pointed out.

  Marlo dipped down and landed on Blizzard’s head, appearing like a blue bow in his white fur.

  The girls turned their stares to the thin strips of velvet hanging at the building’s entrance only a few feet away. There was no sign of the flag, the scouts, or the Descenders.

  CHAPTER 18

  THE SECRET BUTTERFLY NETS

  Noah and Richie fell from the tunnel into an enormous space. Richie kicked at the air, his flashy running shoes leaving momentary streaks of color. Noah touched down on a large, flat net and quickly rolled aside to make room for his friend, who landed with a grunt. After climbing to his knees on the cords, Noah stared out.

  They were in a tall glass building the length of a football field. A wild mesh of nets filled the otherwise open space, running in all directions and angles and connecting in all sorts of ways. They reminded Noah of the climbing nets in playgrounds and parks. Some rose like ladders, while others lay flat. Some sagged, and others were pulled tight. Some angled and curved like the steep corners of a racetrack, and others just dangled from the heights.

  “No way,” Noah said.

  He’d never seen a sector so c
rowded. There were tens of thousands of butterflies—maybe hundreds of thousands. They flew all around, their gentle wings whisking against his body. They flitted through the nets and perched on their cords. The air seemed to be exploding with silent fireworks.

  About thirty yards to Noah’s left, the Descenders were climbing down a vertical net, chasing a group of butterflies. In their midst, the thin flag fluttered and snapped like a magician’s handkerchief. The butterflies swept beneath the edge of a cargo net and began to fly straight, taking the flag with them. The Descenders jumped onto horizontal nets and charged on their feet after them.

  Richie was lying on his stomach, his back covered in butterflies. He lifted his head and revealed the faint impression of a rope across his face. When a butterfly struck one lens of his glasses, he flinched and his arms slipped between the cords.

  “A little help …” he said, his arms dangling beneath him.

  Noah grabbed Richie’s jacket and hoisted him up among a scatter of butterflies. Richie looked out across the sector and neatly summed up the scene: “Wow …”

  Noah pointed toward the Descenders and said, “C’mon—the flag’s that way.”

  They stood and jogged along the net, careful not to let their feet slip through the holes. Butterflies began to land on Noah, one after another. He saw the orange spots of monarchs and the black-and-white stripes of swallowtails.

  The butterflies with the flag had shifted directions and were flying back into the heights. The Descenders, climbing now on a vertical net that resembled the rope rigging on the mast of a pirate ship, were closing fast on them, Solana in the lead. Noah saw how the net that he and Richie were on continued straight for about thirty yards before ending at an open space surrounding the net their adversaries were scaling, and he suddenly had an idea. Maybe he and Richie wouldn’t need to reach the flag first.

  “Richie, I need you to follow me as fast as you can!”