Big Game (25 page)

Now unarmed, the hunter shoved the sloth off her face and scrambled down the stairs from the platform, spitting out sloth hair as she went. By the time Summer and I made it off the wobbling rope bridge to the platform ourselves, the hunter was already two flights down and moving fast. She darted across the long bridge below us, cutting past where the crocs were fighting for her rifle, and disappeared under the cover of the trees.

I started down the stairs after her, but Summer blocked my path. “No,” she said firmly. “We've faced enough danger today.”

“She's getting away!” I argued.

“Or she's preparing to ambush us. For all we know, she has another weapon. A knife or something.” Summer whipped out her phone and told it, “Call security.”

She had a good point. Besides, I was wiped from our experience in the tree. Now that the adrenaline rush was over, I felt weak in the knees. I sagged against the railing of the platform while we waited for the phone to ring.

“You threw a
sloth
at her,” I said.

“It was self-defense,” Summer informed me. “I grabbed the closest thing I could find. I didn't even realize it was a sloth until I'd already thrown it. I thought it was a big old fruit or something.”

A dispatcher answered the phone. “Security.”

“This is Summer McCracken,” Summer said. “I'm in World of Reptiles and I've just been attacked by the hunter who's been trying to kill the rhino here. She's still in the building, but she's on the run. I need all available security here now!”

“Is this a joke?” the security officer asked.

“No!” Summer snapped. “It's really me! Check the caller ID if you need proof! And then get everyone out here right now! If the poacher gets away, I'll make sure my father knows it was your fault!”

“Yes, ma'am!” the security dispatcher said, cowed by Summer's threat. “I'm sending out all available officers right now.”

“Tell them to hurry,” Summer said.

“Can you stay on the line?” the dispatcher asked. “In case we need more information?”

“Sure,” Summer told her.

The sloth was still lying on the platform near us. It appeared to be exhausted after its ordeal, having worked very hard for a sloth. Something dark was wadded up in one of its front claws.

I knelt down to inspect it closer. It was part of the hunter's ski mask, a clump of cotton that must have torn off when the hunter had yanked the sloth off her face. I reached down to take it.

The sloth, already on edge, attacked me. However, since it was a sloth, the attack wasn't very fast. Its arm swung at me in slow motion, claws extended. I probably had a minute to get out of the way, but I stepped aside quickly anyhow.

The sloth bleated at me angrily. It wasn't very frightening. Instead, it looked like a perturbed teddy bear.

The dispatcher came back on the line. “Security is en route. Can you describe the perpetrator?” he asked.

“Sure,” Summer replied. “She's wearing camouflage gear, a hunting jacket, gloves, a ski mask—”

“A
torn
ski mask,” I corrected.

“A torn ski mask and boots,” Summer said. “She had a rifle, but it kind of got eaten.”

“I'm sorry,” the dispatcher said. “Did you say
eaten
?”

“Yes,” Summer told her. “By a crocodile.”

“A crocodile?” the dispatcher repeated.

“A big one,” Summer said.

“Right.” The dispatcher seemed to be taking a moment to make sense of this. “Can you describe the perpetrator herself—not merely what she's wearing? Height, weight, hair color, eyes, distinguishing birthmarks . . .”

“Um . . . hold on.” Summer looked to me blankly. “What did she look like? I didn't get a good look at her.”

I realized I hadn't either. I'd only seen the hunter in the dark, or the shadows, or with a sloth over her face. And she'd been wearing heavy clothes and a ski mask. I didn't even know the color of her skin. “She's medium height, I think. And kind of skinny.”

“Medium height and skinny,” Summer reported.

“That's all you've got?” the dispatcher asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

“She might have some claw marks on her from an angry sloth,” Summer suggested helpfully.

“What's a sloth?” the dispatcher asked.

The sloth in question was coming at me again. Slowly. It was crawling across the platform at about two miles an hour. I wasn't really worried about it, but I signaled Summer we should head down the stairs anyhow. The sloth had experienced enough excitement that night.

Summer followed me down. “A
sloth
,” she repeated to the dispatcher. “It's a medium-sized tree-dwelling mammal. Lives in the rain forest. Hangs upside down its whole life.”

“Are you making all this up?” the dispatcher asked.

“No!” Summer said. “It's a real animal! You've never heard of one? You work at a zoo, for Pete's sake!”

“Can you add anything else to the description of the hunter?” the dispatcher asked. “Like ethnicity?”

Summer looked to me. I shook my head. “Er . . . no,” Summer said.

The dispatcher sighed. “That's not very helpful.”

“It's a woman dressed in hunting gear with claw marks on her arm, running away from World of Reptiles!” Summer said angrily. “How many of those could there be? You know what'd be helpful? If your people got out here faster and caught the criminal!”

“I told you there were agents en route,” the dispatcher replied curtly. “They will do their best, but it'd be useful to have a more accurate description. Clothes can be changed. Skin color can't.”

Summer and I reached the long bridge that veered closest to the crocodile tank. The huge reptiles were no longer battling for the rifle. Either they had realized it wasn't prey—or one of them had swallowed it anyhow.

“Freeze!” someone yelled.

Summer and I did, reflexively putting our hands in the air.

A security guard had entered the rain forest. It was Kevin, the exceptionally young guard we'd met at the entry booth the day before. He looked very nervous and unsure of himself. His gun was pointed at us. “Security!” he announced. “Get your hands up!”

“They
are
up,” Summer said.

“Oh,” said Kevin.

“We're not the bad guys!” I told him. “We're the ones who called for you! The hunter was running
out
of the building.”

“Oh,” Kevin said again. He lowered his gun sheepishly. “I didn't see anyone out there.”

Another guard suddenly entered the other side of the room, having come in through the exit. She looked slightly older and seemed more competent. But then, the sloth seemed more competent than Kevin. “Any sign of her?” she asked.

“No,” Kevin said. “You?”

“Would I be asking you if you'd seen her if I'd seen her?” the second guard asked.

“Oh,” Kevin said once more. Then he looked at Summer and me. “Sorry, guys. Looks like she got away.”

“Great,” I muttered, staring down at the crocodile tank. “The hunter's gone, we nearly died, and all our evidence got eaten.”

“We chased her off and got her gun,” Summer pointed out. “So maybe she won't come back again.”

“You really think so?” I asked.

Summer considered it, then frowned. “No.”

“Me neither,” I said.

Within the next half hour,
dozens of adults descended upon World of Reptiles. Some had still been at the park when the alert had gone out, but many had raced there from their homes.

Chief Hoenekker was there, along with every security guard he could round up. Some of them took statements from Summer and me about what had happened. Others went up on the roof to search for clues. Large Marge simply lurked in the rain forest, pretending to be busy while giving me the stink eye.

Then there were the keepers. Vicky Benbow, the shy rhino keeper, had come from Rhonda's quarters. According to her, Rhonda and all the other rhinos were unharmed; Summer and I had stopped the hunter before she'd had a chance to shoot. All available herpetologists were making sure that none of the reptiles had been hurt, while the crocodile specialist was helping security fish what little remained of the rifle out of the exhibit. And a biologist had examined the sloth; she reported that it was exhausted, but otherwise fine.

J.J. McCracken was there too. Once he'd made sure that Summer was all right he had chewed out Hondo for letting her ditch him, and then ordered him to take her home. Then he'd shifted into business mode, trying to determine what had happened and what could be done about it. Pete Thwacker and Kristi Sullivan were close by. So was Athmani, who was now pressing J.J. to consider removing the rhino horns once and for all.

And my parents were there. They'd come directly to World of Reptiles after I'd called them to let them know what had happened. (It had taken them a little longer to get there than it usually might have since Mom was on crutches.) Both were relieved I was all right but upset at me for putting myself in danger once again. Mom was particularly angry.

All of of us were gathered in the atrium. The animals had finally calmed down after all the excitement. The crocodiles had gone back to being practically motionless. The birds had returned to their roosts. The sloth had climbed back up into a tree and was contentedly eating leaves.

“Why on earth did you and Summer decide to investigate this yourselves?” Mom demanded. “Especially after what's happened to you in the past?”

I glanced toward J.J., feeling more annoyed than ever that I couldn't tell the truth about what was going on. Especially now that I was in trouble for helping investigate. “We didn't think we were going to find the hunter,” I explained. “We were only trying to see if the shot might have been fired from up there.”

“That's no excuse,” Mom said angrily. “Going out on that roof would be dangerous whether the hunter was there or not. That's why it's off-limits. If you thought there was a lead up there, you should have called security.”

“Summer didn't trust Chief Hoenekker.” I spoke as quietly as I could, since Hoenekker wasn't far away.

“Why not?” Dad asked.

“He just hasn't been that good at investigating stuff,” I replied.

“So you don't have any concrete evidence against him?” Dad inquired.

“No,” I admitted.

“Teddy shouldn't have any concrete evidence against anyone,” Mom pointed out; then she shifted her attention to me. “You shouldn't be investigating this case, period. We have a security division to handle things like this. This is their job, not yours.”

“You're letting me help investigate Pancake's escape,” I countered.

“There's a big difference between helping put a camera in the orangutan exhibit and going up onto the roof at night without permission. Especially when there's a killer running around this zoo.”

“She's trying to kill animals, not humans,” I argued.

“You have no idea what she'd do!” Mom snapped. “She was armed and dangerous, and you put yourselves right in her way! What were you thinking?”

I looked toward J.J. again. He didn't seem to be aware of what was going on with my parents and me, as he was surrounded by a dozen people who all wanted his attention at once. Even though most of them were taller than he was, he still seemed bigger than them somehow. He radiated a sense of power. I really didn't want to get him angry at me.

“Teddy,” Dad said, not pleased that I hadn't answered the question, “Your mother and I have given you a lot of freedom lately. You're almost thirteen and we thought you deserved it. But behavior like this makes us think you might need more restrictions. . . .”

“That's not fair,” I said, before he could go on.

“Well, we obviously can't trust you to not take risks like this,” Mom said.

“I didn't want to go up there!” I exclaimed, before I could control myself. “I was forced to!”

“By Summer?” Mom asked. “If that's the case, then maybe you shouldn't be allowed to see her anymore.”

“No!” I yelled, louder than I'd meant to. Having more restrictions placed on me would have been bad enough, but not being allowed to see Summer was the worst punishment I could imagine. “Summer didn't force me to do anything.”

Mom leaned forward on her crutches. “Then who did?”

I looked J.J.'s way one more time. Which was one time too many. Mom and Dad both realized what was going on.

“J.J.?” Dad asked, sounding stunned. “He forced you to go up there?”

I thought about denying it, but I was tired of lying to my parents. Plus, I was pretty sure they'd know I was lying. “Well, he didn't force me onto the roof, exactly. . . .”

“What did he do?” Mom pressed.