The Snowy

by Dave Schneider

  The son smiled a little and moved again, holding the cage very still.

  They stopped before the structure on the right. The guard dropped the backpacks and left. Neff eyed the cage on the son’s chest. The mulgny’s round black eyes peered at her, its claws gripping the bars. Neff reached out. The chief’s son blocked her hand. The mulgny growled.

  Neff, unruffled, said, “She shouldn’t be in there.”

  The son pointed at the mulgny, made a claw with his hand, dragged it across his chest and dropped his head to the side, pretending to die.

  Neff nodded slowly, “Yes. I know. I just want to let her go.” She pretended to lift the cage over her head, put it down, open the door and watch the mulgny run off into the jungle. She tilted her head at the chief’s son, eyebrows raised, smiling slightly.

  He stared at her, wordless, one hand on the cage, the other scratching his head. Neff pretended again to let the mulgny go and smiled again, warmly. The son looked back toward the bonfire. His father had gone. He carefully lifted the cage and placed it on the ground.

  Neff bent to the cage door. “Time to go, sweetie,” she said. She looked up at the son.

  He nodded.

  She lifted the little door and stepped back. The mulgny emerged, paused and looked up. Neff smiled and nodded. The mulgny scurried off into the dark.

  The two Trappid guards watched the release, and shrugged at one another. One of them opened the door to the enclosure, lifted the backpacks and threw them in. The other took the rope from Notch’s neck, untied his hands and prodded him toward the door with his spear.

  “Hey,” said Notch, “Cool it.” He stepped into the dark and quickly backed against the wall, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

  The chief’s son stepped in front of the guards and gently untied the ropes from Neff’s neck and hands. He took her elbow and guided her to the entrance.

  Neff looked in, glanced once at the chief’s son, and stepped inside. Did he just wink at me?

  The guard bolted the door. Notch pulled Neff over to him. Light from the campfires seeped between the logs. The two stood, backs against the wall, straining to see what else was in there.

  “Welcome,” said a voice from the dark.

  “Who’s there?” blurted Neff. “Is it Snowy?”

  “Mm,” he replied, limping from the shadows on a makeshift crutch.

  “You’re hurt!”

  “Mm,” he responded, smiling at Neff. “That Trappid your friend?”

  “The chief’s son?” she said.

  “Chief’s son?” Snowy frowned. “Come,” he said. He led them to the rear of the enclosure, where he sat on a pile of hay by the wall. “Where Sparky, Jung?” he asked, laying the crutch aside.

  Neff and Notch sat on each side of him. They described their capture, and Sparky and Jung’s escape.

  “Maybe the Trappids couldn’t find them,” said Notch.

  “I hope they’re safe,” said Neff. She looked at the crutch, the scratches and the cuts on Snowy’s arms, face and legs. “What happened to you?”

  “I was hiding, watching trail for Trappids to come by. Never saw three come through woods from behind. They shout. I run. They chase. I hit branches.” He touched a scratch. “They hit branches. They not so fast. I jump off ledge. Twist ankle. Try to run. Couldn’t. They drag me away.”

  “Thank you for trying to lead them away from us,” she said.

  He nodded.

  Notch scanned the dark interior. Hay was strewn everywhere. It smelled of must and rot. “Not one of your better hotels,” he said, “but, at least it’s free.”

  “You bleed,” said Snowy, studying Notch’s face.

  “Trappid,” said Notch.

  Snowy pulled a tiny packet from inside his belt, poured a drop of fluid on Notch’s finger and said, “Put on.”

  Notch smeared it on the scratches. “What happens now?” he asked.

  “Must get away, or Trappids will sell you to Lowconz,” replied Snowy.

  “What about you?” asked Neff.

  “Trappids will sell me to Snoflians.”

  “Can you tell the Snoflians about us?” she replied.

  “By time I tell Snoflians, you gone.”

  “What if we limp, like you? Will they want us?” asked Notch.

  “Mm. For zoo.”

  “How do we get away?” asked Neff.

  “Don’t know if can,” replied Snowy.

  CHAPTER 32

  Trackers

  “...NINETEEN, TWENTY.” Sparky opened one eye. The two Trappids had gone back upstream.

  Jung headed downriver away from Sparky’s captured friends.

  I have to believe he knows what he’s doing. Sparky followed.

  The river soon widened, tumbled through rapids and poured over a waterfall into a large pool. Above the pool ran a line of stones crossing to the far bank. Jung stepped onto the stones, Sparky followed, two stones behind him.

  Halfway across, a movement on his left sent a jolt of adrenaline through Sparky. He froze. Unduleels were swarming in the pool!

  Jung looked back and beckoned.

  Sparky inhaled and stepped to the next rock. The swarm moved. They’re shadowing me! Focus, Sparky. Like your life depends on it, because it does!

  He watched Jung’s feet. He didn’t see the unduleel leap toward him, then slide back, the waterfall too high.

  They crossed to the opposite bank. Jung had Sparky sit, then went into the forest. He returned with two big yellow, bulb-shaped fruits.

  Sparky sunk his teeth into one, savoring its juicy sweetness. He felt a surge of energy. Super pear.

  He and Jung headed into the jungle. They eventually came across a trail covered with footprints leading toward the mountains. Almost all the prints were from clawed feet, except for two sets, which were made by hiking boots.

  “Yes!” breathed Sparky, punching the air.

  They followed the footprints. The sun was setting, but Jung didn’t slow down.

  Can he see in the dark? “Wait up,” whispered Sparky.

  Jung paused, broke off a sapling, stripped the branches and shoved the end at Sparky. Sparky grabbed it, and stumbled off after Jung. “I feel like a dog on a leash,” mumbled Sparky. “Arf, arf!”

  Jung spun, jerked the sapling and hissed, “Hsshh.”

  “Oops.”

  Jung started off slowly then sped up again.

  “Hey,” said Sparky tugging, “take it easy! You’re pulling an inferior creature.” The sapling stopped. Sparky ran into it. Ouch!

  A light appeared on the trail ahead. Jung pushed Sparky into the bushes and dropped to the ground, pulling Sparky with him.

  To keep his night vision, Sparky closed only one eye and watched with the other. Two Trappids sauntered past, one carrying a torch. They moved out of sight, talking and chuckling.

  Jung rose, shoved the sapling at Sparky and pulled him across the trail into the trees. It was pitch black. Sparky mostly felt his way over the squishy jungle detritus. When firelight began to flicker through the trees, Jung cut left, circled the fires and paused behind three big, boxy sheds. Jung motioned to Sparky to wait, then stole forward. He peered into the first structure and quickly returned, baring his teeth, and holding his hands like claws.

  “Whoa,” said Sparky, backing up. “Oh wait. You mean there’s a cat?”

  Jung nodded. He pointed up into the trees.

  “Willow leopard?” mouthed Sparky.

  Jung grinned, tapped Sparky on the shoulder. Jung picked up the sapling. Sparky grabbed hold. He and Jung moved to the next enclosure. Jung had Sparky wait and snuck forward again. He was gone longer this time.

  Sparky crawled closer. Jung was leaning against the enclosure. Is he talking?

  Suddenly, a shadow appeared, coming along the right
side of the enclosure. A Trappid. If he comes around the back, he’ll see Jung.

  Sparky was about to toss a stone.

  But, at the last moment, Jung slipped into the foliage.

  The Trappid sauntered around the corner, across the back, where he stood briefly, then continued around the other side.

  Pit stop?

  Jung crept forward again.

  Why’s he taking so long? Sparky drummed his fingers on his thigh. Come on.

  Jung finally returned, pointed at the enclosure, then at his chest, and held up two fingers.

  “Neff and Notch?” Sparky whispered.

  Jung shook his head, no. He pointed at his chest.

  “Two altivaulters, like you?” Sparky asked in a low voice.

  Jung nodded. He gestured to the last enclosure, held up three fingers and said, “Nff, Nch, Snwee.”

  “Neff, Notch...and Snowy?”

  Jung nodded.

  “They’re all there? The altivaulters told you?”

  Jung smiled and spread his hands, as if to say, who else? He pointed to both enclosures, then to the mountains.

  “We’ll all go together?” whispered Sparky.

  Jung nodded yes.

  “Okay. So how?”

  Jung led Sparky behind the last enclosure. Neither noticed the mulgny lying under a nearby bush. They peered between the logs. Neff was sitting with her back to them. Jung pushed the end of the sapling between the logs and slid it across until it touched Neff’s backside.

  “Eeee,” she shrieked.

  The mulgny sprang to its hind legs and waddled toward Jung and Sparky, hissing, waving its lethal claws. Jung backed up. Sparky turned to the enclosure.

  “Neff,” he whispered, “it’s me, Sparky.”

  Neff came to the wall. “Sparky? Are you okay?” At the sound of Neff’s voice, the mulgny paused.

  Sparky whispered, “There’s a...what was it?...mulgny here, giving me grief. What do I do?”

  “Is that you, Sweetie?” asked Neff through the slats.

  Is she talking to me? Sparky frowned.

  “Be nice to Sparky.”

  Guess not.

  “Can I call you Mollie? Mollie Mulgny?” Neff continued.

  The mulgny rolled its ears forward and crouched, sniffing rapidly.

  “I’ll be out soon, Mollie. Be patient.”

  Sparky leaned against the enclosure. The mulgny sat up.

  “Just be calm, Mollie,” whispered Neff. “We’re all friends.”

  “Hey, Sparky,” whispered Notch.

  “Hey, Notch. Snowy, are you there?”

  “Mm,” said Snowy. “Jung there?”

  “He’s here,” whispered Sparky. Jung put his ear to an opening.

  “We must get away,” said Snowy.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” said Notch. “I have an idea.”

  “Um,” said Sparky, “there are two altivaulters next door...Jung wants them to get away too.”

  “Mm,” said Snowy.

  “Maybe they can help us,” said Notch. “See if you guys agree.”

  They all drew closer.

  Five minutes later, Notch asked, “So, do we agree?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Sparky.

  “Yes,” said Neff, “if we can actually do it that way.”

  “Mm,” said Snowy, adjusting his leg, “Worth a try.”

  Jung held up two thumbs.

  Where’d he learn that? “Then let’s go for it,” said Notch.

  CHAPTER 33

  Going for it

  WHILE THE FIVE PLANNED their escape, the Trappid chief replaced the two guards in front of the enclosure with his son and his son’s cousin. His son was being punished for acting like a wimp. His cousin was being punished for getting caught in a willow, for letting a slugasaur hold him hostage, and for allowing the three humancs to escape with a boatful of precious critters.

  “Guard humancs with your lives,” the chief warned.

  Not with my life. His son sat with his back against the structure, thinking about the humancs inside, especially the female. He began to whittle a female human figurine from a block of wood. He was happy not to talk to his cousin, whom he didn’t like, and who smelled awful.

  His cousin, on the other side of the doorway, sat thinking about very little, other than sipping from his jug, and dozing.

  Both ignored the other two enclosures.

  Their apathy, coupled with the cacophony of jungle sounds—the whirring insects, screeching birds, howling beasts and squealing animals—made it easy for Jung to sneak along the far side of the altivaulters’ enclosure, open the front door and let the two out. He quietly re-bolted the door and followed the two down the side. He nodded to the large female who went to the far corner of the cat’s enclosure and waited.

  Jung and the other altivaulter, a young male, padded past Sparky behind the humans’ enclosure and snuck up the to the front corner on the jungle side. That was Sparky’s cue. He jiggled the sapling.

  Neff, on the other end, jiggled back, got up, went to the front and spoke through an opening. “I’m scared. I need to talk,” she whimpered. “Can I talk with you?”

  The son put down his carving and stepped toward Neff’s voice, his back to his cousin, and uttered, “Hn?”

  When the female altivaulter saw him move, she snuck to the front of the cat’s enclosure, pulled open the door and barked. She stood for a moment in the flickering firelight, then slipped into the dark.

  The chief’s son saw her. “Cat door!” he blurted. He grabbed his spear and turned toward the cat’s enclosure just as his tipsy cousin leaned over to put down his jug. The chief’s son stumbled over his cousin, swore and limped on.

  The cousin staggered after, dragging his spear.

  The son reached the cat’s door and stopped dead. His cousin ran into him. He shoved him away and pointed his spear into the dark doorway.

  The willow leopard was crouched there, fangs bared, hissing. The woozy cousin poked his spear at the cat. The cat clawed at it. The son pulled his cousin back and slammed the door.

  Jung slipped to the front of the enclosure that held Neff, Notch and Snowy and opened the door. They ran out. The young male led them down the side. Jung bolted the door and followed.

  The female altivaulter was waiting behind the enclosure. She led them to a Trappid trail, which headed into the mountains. For a while, everyone kept up. But as the trail steepened, Snowy fell behind.

  “Guys, wait,” said Sparky. He went back to Snowy. “Let me help you,” he said softly.

  “Trappids come,” said Snowy. “I too slow. You go.”

  “I can’t leave you. We’ll hide. They won’t find us!”

  “They will find,” said Snowy, “sell you to Lowconz. Sell me to Snoflians. I go home. You gone for good.”

  “I can’t just....”

  “Go. Now!” hissed Snowy. “They come!” He pushed Sparky away.

  Sparky, eyes brimming, gave Snowy one last look, turned away and jogged up to the others. He told them what Snowy had said.

  “I feel sick,” said Neff. “Will they really sell him to the Snoflians? Or will they...just kill him? Will we ever see him again?”

  “I think we better do what he said,” muttered Notch, “now.”

  Sparky and Neff nodded.

  The chief’s son bolted the willow leopard’s door, checked the bolts on the altivaulters’ and humancs’ doors, then stopped at the opening where Neff had spoken. He tapped lightly, but heard nothing. He guessed that Neff was upset with him for suddenly leaving her. He felt badly. He sat and resumed whittling the figurine. I give to her. Maybe she talk then. His cousin took a sip, laid down and snored.

  When the son finished the figurine, he nudged his cousin, unbolted
the door and went into the enclosure, hoping to give the figurine to Neff and somehow communicate with her.

  A few seconds later, he flew out the door and ran to the side of the enclosure. He saw footprints—humanc, altivaulter and Snoflian. He and his cousin bounded up the trail in pursuit, where they came face to face with the mulgny, braced on her hind legs, waving her lethal claws.

  The chief’s son shook his head. He veered into the jungle, his cousin crashing behind him. Further up, he got back on the trail and found Snowy sitting there, one leg folded, the other extended, the crutch in his lap.

  “I’m done,” said the Snoflian.

  The chief’s son led Snowy back down the trail. He came across the mulgny again, blocking the way. He stopped. Snowy stopped.

  The cousin ran into Snowy, jabbing himself in the foot with his spear. He hopped in a circle on one leg.

  The son glanced at Snowy. Snowy shrugged. The son shook his head. The mulgny stared at Snowy. Snowy held up his hand. She backed off the trail.

  The son shoved his cousin ahead. “Go!”

  The cousin limped forward, jabbing his spear at the mulgny as he passed. The mulgny backed up and hissed. The chief’s son yanked the spear from his cousin and flung it down the trail. The cousin stumbled after it, cursing.

  The mulgny watched them go.

  The three humans struggled to keep pace with the altivaulters. They’re fast, Notch struggled to breathe. Too fast. Getting harder to keep up. He looked at the sky. The small moon had set. The big moon was about to set. It’ll be pitch black soon. Maybe they’ll just dis us and bolt.

  But Jung stopped. He had them sit. The altivaulters fanned out.

  Neff hugged her knees, yawned and closed her eyes. Something nudged her thigh. She jerked upright. “Mollie!” she whispered. “Come here, Sweetie.”

  Mollie, panting from the steep climb, hopped onto Neff’s lap.

  “You need a ride.” Neff put Mollie into her backpack.

  A moment later, the female altivaulter pushed the tip of a sapling at Neff who took hold. The female set off pulling Neff. Notch was ahead of Neff, pulled by Jung. Sparky was behind her, led by the young male altivaulter.