The Mysterious Abductions (9 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

THE JERBOA'S TALE

“N
onsense!” exclaimed Bismark. “That swamp-dwelling reptile will come to his senses in no time. I am his most valuable asset! You can't treat your talent this way!”

The animals groaned. With Bismark now trapped in the chambers too, there was no one to fetch Ajax and Julian. They were stuck, just like before.

“You can't fit through that crack?” asked Ciro.

“
Absolument pas
!” said the sugar glider. He
placed his hands on his hips. “How many times must I say it? I'm not some pygmy flying squirrel! I'm larger than I look, you know.”

The coyote sighed.

“Maybe Ajax and Julian will find us,” said Tobin. “We shouldn't give up hope just yet, right?”

“Doubtful,” said the sugar glider. “These caves are crazy, I tell you. Mazes! Labyrinths! Impossible to navigate…without prior experience, that is.”

“What can we do now? We're trapped here forever!” Cora sobbed.

The fox furrowed her brow. She had a plan. “Well, Bismark can still prove of use.”

With a flourish of his cape, the sugar glider bowed. “But of course I can, foxy dame! I am the most useful of the useful. Name anything! Anything at all. A soothing song? A sweet caress? What do you desire, my lady?”

“What I desire is information.” She stepped toward Bismark. “Tell us about this game.”

“Ah, yes, the game,” said the sugar glider. “Well, you see, it's all about balance. A delicate combination of pitch, tenor, and strength.”

Tobin cocked his head. “Pitch?” he asked. “You mean…throwing?”

“No, no, no, my scaly
amigo.
Pitch! As in key! Notes! Song! I am speaking of my role as announcer!”

Dawn took a deep breath. “Bismark, we need to know about the actual game. What happens on the floor out there?”

Bismark let out a disinterested sigh. “As you wish,
mon amour.
Though I shall keep my explanation brief.” He raised a paw to this throat. “Can't tax the vocal cords.”

Ciro growled with impatience.

“Okay, okay!” Bismark shielded himself with his flaps. “It's quite simple, really. There are six players on each team. Using the kiwis, they slide the tarantula across the floor. I think his name is Harry—poor fellow, always getting bruised up, but that's the game. To win, you must hit the spider into the goal more times than the other team. So far, it has been the kidnapped animals against the crocs, but the crocs have completely outplayed them. The mink, raccoon, and coyote are on offense. The honey badger and possum play defense. Wombat's in goal.”

“Wombat!” cried Cora. “Is it Joe? Is it my brother?”

Bismark scratched at his bald spot. “
Oui
? Yes? I think so? You both have that peculiar habit of shaking
and quivering in difficult moments.”

Cora sighed with relief. “That's Joe.”

The fox shook her head from side to side. “Poor animals,” she muttered, “being used like this for sport.”

“And the jerboas?” pressed Ciro.

“What about the jerboas?” A voice echoed from behind the boulder.

The animals froze.

“Who's there?” Ciro called.

There was the scurry of tiny feet. Two big, floppy ears poked their way through the crack.

“Jerry?” Tobin asked.

“What do you want?” growled Ciro. “You've caused enough trouble here.” He stepped alongside Tobin.

Jerry wedged the rest of his body through the tiny opening then dusted himself off. “Please,” he began, “just let me explain.”

Ciro snarled and bared his sharp teeth, but Dawn raised her paw.

Jerry gulped. “I know I've caused much disruption. Much pain. But I've acted out of pure desperation.” The jerboa lowered his eyes to the floor. “Boris has all of us. Almost every jerboa there is. Unless I do what he asks, he'll kill us all!”

“I don't understand,” said Tobin. “What is he making you do?”

Jerry clasped his paws at his chest. “Boris is clumsy and large,” he began. “He never could've pulled this off alone. He needed an accomplice. Someone small, stealthy, and swift. Someone who could locate the players in secret.”

“So it was you,” said the coyote. “You led the crocs to the valley. You knowingly put others at risk.”

“Yes! Yes!” Jerry cried. “I led the crocs to their victims, and watched as they dragged them into the river! I found them all! The kiwis, the mink, the coyote, the tarantula, the possum, the honey badger!” He glanced toward Cora. “And the wombat!”

Tobin took Cora's paw in his own.

“And
mo
i!” cried Bismark.

“Yes,” Jerry blubbered, “you too. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't know what else to do. One day, the crocs trapped us all inside our burrow. Then they marched us down here into these caves. Boris threatened to kill them if I didn't help him. My species is already endangered. If Boris killed them, we'd have no hope.” The jerboa gulped. “We'd go extinct!”

“Oh goodness,” uttered Tobin. He shivered at the sound of that word, so final, so harsh.

The room was quiet.

“But I know this is not an excuse,” Jerry said. His voice was trembling as he wiped tears from his cheeks. “I have betrayed my fellow nocturnals. I'm a traitor of the night!” Jerry broke down in sobs.

Ciro circled the room then stood before the jerboa. “I am sorry for your species' fate,” he declared, “but these are serious crimes you've committed.”

The jerboa sniffed and wiped his cheeks dry. “I know,” he agreed. His raised his large eyes. “That's why I've come to help.”

“You…you're here to help?” Tobin asked.

Jerry nodded.

Ciro eyed the jerboa. “Haven't we learned not to trust him at this point?”

Dawn straightened her spine. “He's our only hope of escape,” she replied. “Plus, he can never prove himself worthy if he is not given the chance.”

Ciro cast his eyes down at the floor. “I suppose we don't have much to lose.”

“Jerry,” said Dawn, “you can fit through that space, correct?”

The jerboa smiled. “With room to spare,” he said.

“All right,” said the fox. “Huddle in, everyone.”

The pack of animals whispered and plotted.

“That should work,” Ciro said.

“Yes,” agreed Jerry. “I'll be back right away!” The jerboa spun toward the exit.

“Jerry!” called Tobin. “Before you go, I must say… I've noticed you're barely stammering.”

Jerry bowed his head, trying to hide the sheepish grin lifting his whiskers. “That's ‘cause I'm telling the truth!” Then, with a flick of his tail, he ducked through the hole and ran off into the caves.

Chapter Twenty-Three

THE CHALLENGE

“I
'm back!” called the jerboa. He slipped through the crack in the boulder, holding one end of a long, sturdy vine.

“Did you find Julian and Ajax?” asked Dawn.

“They're right outside. Boy, those two were not happy to see me! They chased me in circles for five minutes before I convinced them I wasn't playing any tricks.”

Ciro shrugged as he took hold of the vine. “I don't blame them.”

“Go and give the coyotes the signal,” Dawn said. The jerboa saluted and wormed his way back through the rock.

The others quickly fell into position. Ciro stood facing the boulder. Then Dawn lifted Tobin and placed him atop Ciro's head. The clumsy pangolin lurched and wobbled as Ciro reared up on his hind legs.

“Oh goodness!” cried Tobin. He was about to fall, and the coyote was losing his balance trying to keep Tobin upright. Bismark rushed over and leaned into Ciro's leg to lend some stability.

“You can do it,
mes amis
! We will escape this cursed dungeon!”

Dawn looked on in disbelief. Was Bismark really helping Ciro?

The sugar glider glanced at Dawn, as if he had heard her thoughts. “I do what I must for the good of us all,” Bismark said. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

Wasting no time, Dawn leapt onto Ciro's back and then climbed up onto Tobin's scales. Finally, Bismark glided over and stood on the fox's head.

“Now the vine,” said Dawn.

Carefully, the animals passed up the vine. The
stack of creatures was just tall enough to reach the seam where the boulder met the opening in the wall. Up here, like down below, was a thin crack. Dawn fed the vine to Bismark, and then Bismark fed it through the narrow opening.

“Do you see it?” called Dawn to the coyotes outside.

“Got it!” said Ajax.

“Good,” said the fox. “One more time.”

The animals repeated the process on the other side, forming a loop around the boulder. Out in the cave, Ajax and Julian each took one end of the vine in their jaws. They pulled together, muscular necks bulging, until the huge stone nudged to the side.

“Success!” said the sugar glider. He sidled next to the fox. “It has been too long since we have worked together like this, you know.”

Dawn raised a paw to call for silence. “Now remember,” she whispered, “let's all keep quiet. The echoes will give us away if we're not careful.”

The animals nodded. With Dawn in the lead, they crept down the hall.

“Yes,” roared a voice. “Unexpected indeed!”

The group froze.

“It's the coach!” whispered the sugar glider.

“Those are Boris's private quarters,” said Jerry. He pointed toward a small chamber farther down the passageway.

Dawn tiptoed forward and peered around the edge of the wall. All six crocodiles stood inside. From her position, she could see and hear everything—a perfect opportunity for a little eavesdropping. The other animals had crouched behind her and were listening as well.

“We'll hold a scrimmage,” said Boris. “That's it! We'll have the old recruits play the new.” He paced back and forth. “At the end, I will choose the top six to play in the big game.”

“Yeah,” said Bee.

“Top six,” said Orr.

The crocodiles rubbed their claws together.

“Uh, coach?” asked Hay. “What big game?”

Boris roared and stomped toward the croc. “You haven't been paying attention! The big game! The one we've been working for!” Boris snorted then spat on the floor. “Those coachers will come back to play,” he continued. “They'll be here once I've got a good team.” The crocodile unclenched his fist. He was still holding that small, red tube in his palm.

Curious, the fox squinted. As Boris stared down
at the object, she thought his eyes looked almost sad. Dawn wondered what this red tube could be—and what it meant to the fearsome crocodile.

Suddenly, the crocodile shut his fist and punched it high in the air. “I will challenge these coachers!” he yelled. “I will show them a real, skilled, trained team. Then, finally, everything we lost will be returned!”

His five followers snapped their jaws with excitement. Boris pounded the floor with his tail.

“What's a coacher?” whispered Tobin.

Jerry shrugged. “He calls himself that, but I think he means ‘Coach.' I'm not about to correct him anytime soon.”

Dawn motioned for silence.

“Now, I think it's time to evaluate our new captives.” The crocodile flashed his sharp teeth. “We'll see if they're of more use as players…or provisions.”

The reptiles erupted in laughter.

Having heard enough, Dawn stepped forward into the room. The others followed close behind. “No,” she declared. “You will not.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

THE WAGER

“H
ow did you all get out?” cried the crocodile. “That stone takes two crocodiles to move!”

“It's time we talked, Boris. There is no—”

Boris lunged forward, jaws wide open, roaring at the top of his lungs. Dawn felt his hot, damp breath on her face. He swung at her with his tail, but she dodged the blow. The crocodile followed up his first attack with a swipe of his claws. This time, he connected. He
scooped up the fox and flung her across the room toward his followers.

“No one disobeys me! I am the coacher!” shouted Boris. “I am the coacher!” The croc spun to face his cronies. “Why don't you show our prisoners back to their cell? And take this fox to my dining quarters. She'll be a great midnight snack.” Boris's tongue traced the jagged outline of his teeth.

Miss, Bee, Hay, Vee, and Orr scrambled into action, surrounding the fox and her companions from all sides.

“Wait!” Dawn cried. The crocodiles were closing in on them. “I have a suggestion. A suggestion that you'll want to hear.”

Tobin gulped. Dawn's voice, always steady and calm, was trembling.

“A suggestion? Do you really think you're in a position to suggest anything right now?” Boris snickered, and cleaned bright red fox hairs from the underside of his long claws.

“It has to do with your game.”

Boris narrowed his eyes. “If you would have your last words be a suggestion, then so be it. What do you have in mind?”

“Well, you've been training this team now for a
while.” The cunning fox stared straight at Boris. “This game must be very important. Are you sure you're ready?”

Boris eyed the red tube in his hand. Then he clenched his large fists.

“Of course we're ready!” he raged. “I am a coacher now! And I will take my team to meet the other coachers. They will be there. They must! It is time for their return.” The croc paused, as if lost in a memory. “I've been preparing for this all year,” he said, “gathering the best of the best.”

Dawn furrowed her brow. Who were these other “coachers”? And what was a “coacher,” exactly? Though she could not help but wonder, these questions would have to wait. There were other matters to address at the moment. She had found her angle.

“You say you have the best of the best, Boris,” she said. “I have a proposition for you. A bet.” The fearless fox drew even closer to the crocodile.

Miss, Bee, Hay, Vee, and Orr stared in awe. No one dared challenge their leader.

“We will play you,” she said. She gestured at Tobin, Cora, and the coyotes. “We will play you and your crocs.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Boris threw
his head back with laughter. “Silly fox!” he exclaimed.

His fellow crocodiles joined in the mockery, slapping their knees and clutching their sides.

“You had me there for a second,” said Boris, “but you haven't even played the game once! You won't be able to balance on the marble, let alone swing your kiwi! Besides, it requires a deep level of strategy—you'll never be able to beat us on your first try!”

“All the more reason to take the bet.” Dawn's tail twitched.

“You might have a point.” The croc glanced at the small, red tube in his claws. Then he snapped back to attention. “What are your terms, fox?”

Miss, Bee, Hay, Vee, and Orr exchanged confused looks. Was Boris actually considering this bet?

“Your captives must be worn out by now,” said Dawn. “And I hear they haven't been playing up to their potential. They're no match for you and your crocs.”

Boris stared at the ground. It was true. The honey badger had a bum knee, the mink had sprained her ankle, and the possum was nearly blind. Plus, the wombat would not stop complaining about his missing tooth.

“We crocodiles won't be the ones playing the coachers,” he grunted, “if that's what you're getting at.”

“That's not what I'm suggesting. If you beat us, you can handpick your players from both your team and ours. You'll have the six best of twelve. But if we win,” Dawn said, “then you must set us free. All of us.”

“I was going to take the six best anyway!” The crocodile leaned his head back and laughed. “Why do I need to accept your bet at all?”

“Because without something to play for, we have no motivation to try. And if you don't see us play our absolute hardest, how will you know who is the best? This is the only way to judge our true potential. It's a safe bet for you—if you think your crocs can beat us.”

“There is no doubt about it—you will lose.” Boris scratched a patch of itchy scales under his chin as he studied Dawn nose to tail. “I do need the very best players, and I would rather not spend any more time arguing about this.” The croc paced the room and tossed the red tube up in the air over and over again.

Finally, he turned to face Dawn.

“You have a deal. But with one more condition.” Boris leaned in close and exhaled. His hot breath blew Dawn's fur back. “When I win,” said the croc, “I keep the six best to play—”

“Yes,” said the fox.

“And I keep the rest, too,” said the croc. “To
do with as I please.” Boris flashed a wicked grin, baring his rows of sharp fangs. A thick strand of saliva dangled from his lip. “That's the best offer you'll get.”

Dawn stared at Boris. Her heart jumped in her chest. There was no backing out at this point. “We have a deal,” said the fox.

They shook paws, and Boris marched toward the door. A sly smirk cracked his lips as he rounded the corner. The fox had played right into his hands.