Riddles and Danger Read online

  THE SECRET ZOO

  RIDDLES AND DANGER

  BRYAN CHICK

  Dedication

  For my parents

  Contents

  Cover

  Dedication

  Title Page

  Prelude - Tracks in the Grottoes

  Chapter 1 - Kangaroo Kampground

  Chapter 2 - The Secret Kangaroo Kampground

  Chapter 3 - Ella Gets Punchy with Punchy

  Chapter 4 - Tarsier Terrace

  Chapter 5 - The Lookout from Fort Scout

  Chapter 6 - An Instant Marlo

  Chapter 7 - Exploring the Grottoes

  Chapter 8 - Below the Knickknack and Snack Shack

  Chapter 9 - Questions in Fort Scout

  Chapter 10 - The Secrets of the Shadowist

  Chapter 11 - The Shadows of DeGraff

  Chapter 12 - Damage in the Python Pit

  Chapter 13 - Wide Walt in the Monster Dome

  Chapter 14 - Back into the Grottoes

  Chapter 15 - The Secret Polliwog Bog

  Chapter 16 - A Gift for Ella

  Chapter 17 - Richie Goes Blind and Chocolatey

  Chapter 18 - Catching Snowflakes

  Chapter 19 - Roger, Roger

  Chapter 20 - Gifteds in the Grottoes

  Chapter 21 - Girls’ Night Out

  Chapter 22 - The Pursuit of Punchy

  Chapter 23 - The Beginning of the End

  Chapter 24 - The Plummet with Podgy

  Chapter 25 - Ella Wakes Up

  Chapter 26 - Richie Rides Again

  Chapter 27 - The Wings of the Descender

  Chapter 28 - A Path to Avoid

  Chapter 29 - A Bird’s-eye View

  Chapter 30 - Flight or Fight

  Chapter 31 - Lights Out

  Chapter 32 - More Surprises

  Chapter 33 - Dangers in the Darkness

  Chapter 34 - Chaos in Creepy Critters

  Chapter 35 - Trapped

  Chapter 36 - New Light

  Chapter 37 - The Advance

  Chapter 38 - The Secret Creepy Critters

  Chapter 39 - Anything Boys Can Do . . .

  Chapter 40 - Rumbles in the Wall

  Chapter 41 - A Pendulum Between Two Worlds

  Chapter 42 - P-Dog Sets the Trap

  Chapter 43 - Collateral Magic

  Chapter 44 - The Cleanup and the Cover-up

  Chapter 45 - The Two Men

  About the Author

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Prelude

  Tracks in the Grottoes

  As Tank walked across the Clarksville Zoo, all was quiet and dark. A few stars speckled the otherwise black sky, and light fell in the shape of cones from scattered lampposts. The cold December wind had worked the warmth from his body. At Chinchillavilla, a small stone building draped in ivy, he unlocked the door, then stepped inside, his palms rubbing together.

  An open exhibit, Chinchillavilla had a terrain that was dry and rocky, covered with holes and crevices. Boulders lay around, and the prickly stems of cacti punched skyward. The façades of old country homes were built into the walls, creating the impression of a villa. The houses had white walls, arched doorways, and colorful roof tiles made of clay. Brick sidewalks ran through patches of tall grass, connecting front doors. Dozens of chinchillas lay around, most of them sleeping.

  Tank strolled off the visitor path and took a seat in a wooden rocking chair on the porch of a house. He breathed warm air across his hands, cocked his head back, and began to rock. Beneath his massive weight, the chair creaked and groaned. He closed his eyes. A minute passed, then another. His breathing slowed, and his thoughts dimmed. Without meaning to, he dozed off.

  He awoke sometime later when he felt something tugging on the laces of his boots. He sat up with a jolt to see the porch covered with chinchillas, as many as a hundred. They’d come from a doorway in the wall that contained a hidden passage to the Secret Zoo, and now they were trying to climb his legs, the puny pads of their feet stroking his pants, their whiskers and oversized ears twitching. Their tiny grunts and barks filled the air. Something was wrong.

  The big man jumped to his feet, sending the chair into a wild rock that scattered dozens of chinchillas.

  “Easy, easy,” Tank said. “What’s wrong?”

  The animals turned all at once and flooded back through the door. Tank followed, careful not to flatten any beneath his size twenty-two boots. Once the last of the chinchillas had skittered past him, he eased the door shut, triggering on a few lights. Directly in front of him was a corridor leading into the ground. Lined with dusty bricks, it was barely large enough to fit him. He had entered the Grottoes, a magical staging area into the Secret Zoo and distant parts of the Clarksville Zoo.

  The chinchillas led him down a steep ramp to where the tunnel leveled out. The Grottoes continued straight for at least fifty feet. On both sides of the passage were branches to new tunnels with dusty velvet curtains draped over their mouths. Above each opening was a thin metal plate engraved with words. One read “Metr-APE-olis.” Another read “The Secret Chinchillavilla.” Another read “A-Lotta-Hippopotami.” There were eight tunnel branches in all.

  The chinchillas began to bark at a place on the ground. Tank dropped his gaze and saw the unmistakable prints of a sasquatch in the dirt. Snowy and wet, they started at a tunnel marked “The Secret Arctic Town.” A chill ran through him. Though the sasquatches were loose in the Secret Zoo, they’d never crossed its magical threshold to reach as far as the Grottoes.

  The big man ran forward, his broad shoulders nearly sweeping the walls, chinchillas dodging out of his path. He traced the tracks to where they disappeared through a branch marked “The Knickknack and Snack Shack.” He followed the markings up a steep flight of stairs and pushed through an overhead hatch door, emerging inside a Clarksville Zoo gift shop. Muddy footprints revealed how the sasquatch had roamed around before turning back to the Grottoes.

  Chinchillas flooded into the gift shop, filling it with the soft patter of their steps. They scampered in all directions, sniffing the ground and trampling across the footprints.

  The front wall of the Knickknack and Snack Shack was mostly glass. Tank stared out into a view along the eastern side of the zoo. He saw several outdoor exhibits and, beyond them, the tall concrete wall that divided the property from the surrounding neighborhood. There the trees were sparse, and in one of them Tank spotted Fort Scout, the elaborate tree fort that Noah and his friends played in.

  “What were you doing out here?” Tank asked, as if he were talking to the sasquatch. “Why didn’t you—”

  He stopped short as the answer struck him. Without another thought, he turned and rushed down the steps, chinchillas scattering at his feet. He ran though the Grottoes toward the Secret Zoo. He needed to get to Mr. Darby, the leader of the magical kingdom, and let him know what he’d just discovered.

  A sasquatch had been scouting the Clarksville Zoo, looking for the best way to invade Noah’s neighborhood.

  Chapter 1

  Kangaroo Kampground

  “Richie!” Ella called out. “C’mon already!”

  Richie, who was bent down on one knee, finished tightening the laces on his running shoes—the kind he was noted for, a flashy pair with swirls of vibrant color—and hurried after his friends, the Action Scouts, who’d just stepped through the front entrance of the Clarksville Zoo. At the gates, Richie pitched his hip forward, plowed through a turnstile, and quickly caught up to Ella, Noah, and Megan.

  It being only nine-fifteen on a cold Saturday morning, the zoo was all but empty. The air was heavy and humid. An overnight dusting of snow was beginning to melt, its wetness pasting dea
d leaves to their shoes.

  The four friends were dressed for the weather. Ella wore her usual earmuffs, fluffy pink things that resembled globs of cotton candy. Megan wore her sporty outdoor headband, which allowed her thick pigtails to droop down. Richie wore his stocking cap, his head circled by a bulky ribbed cuff and crowned with a bushy pom-pom. And Noah wore his now-favorite hunting cap, which Blizzard and Podgy, two animals from the Secret Zoo, had given him. Bright red with big earflaps, it was every bit as goofy as Richie’s hat, but it was warm, and Noah liked how it reminded him of his first journey into the magical world just beyond his backyard.

  The zoo was decked out for its annual Festival of Lights. Countless colorful bulbs dangled from eaves and coiled around fence rails. Even the trees in some outdoor exhibits were decorated.

  “Remind me where crosstraining is today,” Ella said. Her ponytail jumped across her shoulders as she scanned her friends.

  “Kangaroo Kampground,” answered Megan.

  It had been only a week since their last full-scale adventure with the Secret Zoo. The scouts had spent this time training as Crossers, Secret Cityzens who traveled between the ordinary zoo and its magical counterpart. Mr. Darby had assigned a number of Secret Cityzens to assist in their training: a hulking man named Tank; four teenagers known as the Descenders; and a group of animals that included Blizzard, a powerful polar bear; Podgy, a flying penguin; P-Dog, a rambunctious prairie dog; Little Bighorn, a bold rhinoceros; and Marlo, a kingfisher that served as a messenger bird, delivering notes between Mr. Darby and the scouts.

  In classroomlike settings held in various exhibits, the scouts had begun to study the wondrous world of the Secret Zoo. They’d discussed the history of the Secret Society, a band of humans and animals living in harmony, and learned why it existed—primarily to protect every animal species from extinction. They’d learned about the Secret Council and its principles for governing. They’d learned about the magic that had helped create the Secret Zoo—how it had flowed from Kavita, the world’s only real magician, to eventually power her four sons, each born to a different mother thousands of years later. They’d learned about “straight drops,” tunnels that led directly from the Clarksville Zoo to areas in the Secret Zoo known as sectors. These sectors resembled the zoo exhibits joined to them, only on a grander scale, and they connected to the core of the Secret Zoo, the City of Species, which was crowded with animals and people and built in a lush forest.

  The scouts crosstrained at least twice a week. Their parents believed they were serving as zoo volunteers as part of a program hosted by their school. Living next to the Clarksville Zoo made this easy. The four friends could walk out their front doors, meet at the zoo, train, and be home in less than two hours. On school days it was even easier. The children could swing by the zoo on their walk home, spend some time crosstraining, and still beat dinner to their tables. As incredible as it seemed, it was simple for the four of them to maintain their normal lives while being members of a secret civilization. They could be studying math one hour, then riding a polar bear the next.

  Now, they neared Kangaroo Kampground. The exhibit was in a new log building that deliberately looked old. Flat logs were stacked high, their corners interlocked. A gable roof sat on rafters that protruded beyond the outside walls. A wide boulder chimney helped frame one side of the structure. The front booth of the exhibit seemed a dilapidated shack at the world’s most rustic campsite. A weathered wooden sign read “Kangaroo Kampground! Jump on in!”

  Richie glanced at his watch. “Nine-thirty. Right on time.”

  The front steps squealed and moaned as the scouts headed up them. The foursome stopped at the front doors, where a metal sign spoiled the rustic ambience. Across its silvery sheen, bold black letters read “CLOSED FOR CONSTRUCTION!” Knowing this really meant “CLOSED FOR CROSSTRAINING!” Noah dug into his pocket for the magic key that could open any door at the Clarksville Zoo and seated it into the slot. With a click! the door popped open. The scouts glanced over their shoulders to make certain no one was looking and slipped inside.

  The exhibit was an open type where visitors could walk freely among the animals—dozens of kangaroos in this case. Trees and plants grew in the large space, and light poured in from a few big windows. Several zoo employees normally patrolled the open exhibit, but now it was empty.

  The scouts stepped onto the main visitor aisle, a dirt path pitted with small holes. Campsite items were all around—tents, picnic tables, barbecue grills, and fire pits with piles of fake logs that seemed to smolder. Occasional signs pretended to show the direction of campsite attractions with painted arrows: “Pool Area,” “Playground,” “Showers,” “Vending.” Blinking Christmas lights dangled from the heights.

  Kangaroos were scattered about. Most were lounging on their sides, looking bored. A few, seeing the scouts, jumped to attention. With their powerful hind legs, rabbitlike ears, doelike eyes, and jumbo feet, they seemed like caricatures put together from the features of other animals. Several hopped over to the path and curiously sniffed the four friends.

  “Hey, dudes,” Ella said as she reached out her hand, donned in a pink winter glove, and playfully tapped their heads. One kangaroo lapped its long tongue against her sleeve.

  The scouts turned down a path that led to the entrance of a big tent. Inside was a series of ten aluminum benches, equally spaced. Toward the front of the tent, a television was mounted high on a pole. Normally this television looped a ten-minute video detailing kangaroo habits, but today it was turned off. Between the pole and the first row of benches stood a portable whiteboard. Beside it was a teenager with a knit cap pulled over his eyebrows and a scraggly beard dangling from his chin. It was Tameron, one of the Descenders assigned to crosstrain the scouts. He peered out from under the short brim of his cap. “What’s up?”

  Noah nodded as the scouts took seats along a bench toward the middle.

  Tameron planted his foot on the bench in front of him. He looked like an army sergeant ready to grill a squad of soldiers who’d messed up in a serious way.

  “A couple days ago,” Tameron began, “we had an incident.”

  “Uh-oh,” Ella said. “An incident. Already this doesn’t sound good.”

  “Tank was in the Grottoes and guess what he found? Sasquatch tracks.”

  The scouts winced. They all knew the sasquatches had never reached as far as the Grottoes.

  Tameron continued. “He tracked the prints into a gift shop along the east wall of the zoo.”

  “The Knickknack and Snack Shack,” Megan said. “That’s right by Fort Scout. You can see it from our tree.”

  Tameron nodded.

  “Did it get out?” Megan asked.

  “Didn’t look like it. The tracks went straight back to the Grottoes. Tank thinks it was scouting the area, looking for the easiest way to invade your neighborhood.”

  Fear moved Noah’s insides.

  “This is sooooo not good,” Richie said.

  “The east wall . . .” Noah said. “That’s the part you guys have trouble guarding at night. Because there aren’t many trees, you can’t post animals along it, right?”

  Tameron nodded. “If the sasquatches decide to move on that part of the wall, we might not spot them until it’s too late.”

  Ella said, “So not only do we have to stop the Shadowist from getting in the zoo, now we have to stop the sasquatches from getting out!” Everyone knew the Shadowist as the near-mythical man trying to get inside the Secret Zoo.

  “Things just got more complicated,” Tameron said. He seemed to consider something, then added, “What do you guys know about the patrols, the ones we do at night?”

  “Only what you’ve taught us,” Ella said, “which is”—she stared into the corners of her eyes and scanned her thoughts—“pretty much nothing.”

  “Well, that’s about to change right now.”

  Richie greedily rubbed his hands together. “Sweetness! The perimeter patrols! I’ve been
waiting to hear about this for weeks! Spare no detail!”

  “I’ll recap what we know,” Megan volunteered. “There’s the concrete wall, obviously. It goes all around the zoo. It’s about fifteen feet high and surrounded by huge trees. You guys guard the zoo at night by somehow getting animals into those trees. The animals look out for DeGraff, the Shadowist.”

  “This part has always baffled me,” Noah said. “I mean, the animals . . . what kind can possibly sneak into our trees?”

  Ella said, “Probably not elephants, I’m thinking.”

  “Mostly small, arboreal animals,” Tameron said.

  “Ar-bo-what-e-al?” Ella said. She passed a curious stare across the group of Crossers and said, “Did we just switch languages or something?”

  Richie jumped at the opportunity to demonstrate his knowledge. “Arboreal animals—they dwell in trees.”

  Tameron nodded. “Along the perimeter wall we post koalas, lemurs, galagos, and all kinds of possums. A few others, too. Almost all of them are nocturnal—we need them because they see good in the dark. We also use owls and bats. And prairie dogs, but they have a different role.”

  Noah felt his jaw drop. “All these animals . . . right there in our backyard trees. How do they not get spotted?”

  “Oh, they’ve been spotted,” Tameron said. “Quite a few times.”