Terror at the Zoo

“If anybody takes one more step,” the man said, “this kid won’t live.”

What have I done? Ellen thought. She stood still, staring in horror at her brother and the man with the knife.

The man looked around. His eyes dropped briefly on Ellen and then, after waiting for a few more seconds, he looked at her again and said, “Come here.”

She whirled and started to run.

Behind her, Corey cried out.

Ellen stopped and looked back. The man held the knife in the air now, pointed toward Corey’s chest.

She couldn’t run away. Slowly, she turned and walked toward the man. “Who are you?” she whispered. “What do you want with us?”

“A fast-moving and well-constructed tale.”

—
Booklist

“Will appeal to animal lovers looking for a spook story [with] plenty of suspense.”

—
SLJ

Cages

Don’t Tell Anyone

Earthquake Terror

I’m Not Who You Think I Am

Nightmare Mountain

Searching for Candlestick Park

Terror at the Zoo

Special thanks
to Elaine Bowers, Carol Raitt, Katharyn Gerlich, Ira and Delaney Gerlich, Carrie Rhodes and Alex Alvord, and the Woodland Park Zoological Society, Seattle, WA.

TERROR AT THE ZOO is a work of fiction; all people and events described in this book are imaginary.

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About the Author

E
LLEN STREATER
looked across the yard at Prince, her German shepherd. Silently, she directed her thoughts to him:
Come, Prince. Come to me.
She didn’t call his name aloud, or whistle, or clap her hands. She only sent her thoughts.

Prince quit sniffing the grass and turned to look at Ellen.

Come, Prince
, she thought again. Then she closed her eyes and imagined Prince walking across the grass toward her.

When she opened her eyes, Prince stood in front of her, wagging his tail.

“Good dog,” Ellen said. “What a fine dog.” She patted Prince’s head for a few moments and then wrote the date, time, her command, and Prince’s response in her notebook.

Her experiment was turning out far better than she had expected. The last six times she had called him silently, Prince had responded. Once he even came when he was
sitting under the big maple tree, waiting for a squirrel to come down. Prince had been trying all his life to catch a squirrel and was not easily distracted when he saw one. But when Ellen directed him, in her mind, to come, Prince took his eyes from the squirrel and walked straight to Ellen.

Ellen planned to enter her animal communication experiment in the annual All-City Science Fair. Her science teacher had suggested the subject last spring and loaned Ellen a book on animal communication.

Ellen had been skeptical of success, despite the claims in the book, but she had worked on her project all summer, carefully recording her efforts with Prince.

With summer nearly over, Prince frequently obeyed her nonverbal commands to come. Now she wondered if he might be able to understand other thoughts, as well.

She closed her eyes again, focusing all her attention on Prince.
Get your ball
, she thought.
Get your ball.

“Hey, Ellen!”

Ellen’s eyes flew open, startled by her younger brother’s loud call.

Corey yelled again. “Mom says to tell you it’s time to quit playing with Prince and get ready for dinner.”

Ellen glared across the yard at him, her concentration shattered.

From the back porch, she heard her mother scold, “Corey! I could have shouted at Ellen myself. Next time, go out and speak to her quietly.”

Prince loped toward the porch, hoping, no doubt, that he was going to get dinner, too. Ellen sighed and started
toward the house. She didn’t know which irritated her more—Corey’s yelling or the fact that her mother had instructed her to quit “playing” with Prince.

Mrs. Streater knew about Ellen’s science fair experiment in animal communication. Why did her mother insist on calling it play, as if Ellen were still a little kid talking to her Barbie?

Today, of all days, Ellen thought, I should think Mom would realize that I’m finally mature.

Mature. She liked that word. As she washed her hands for dinner, she decided that this birthday was a turning point. Now that she was twelve years old, she would always act mature.

Maybe after tonight’s birthday dinner, her parents would realize that Ellen was no longer their baby girl. Maybe they would treat her like a grown-up, for a change. Maybe they would quit lumping her together with Corey, as if she and her brother were Siamese twins, when he was a mere infant compared to Ellen.

The kids. That’s how Ellen’s parents always referred to her and Corey. “Let’s take the kids to a movie.” “Would you kids please clean up your rooms?” “Dinner’s ready, kids.”

Now that she was twelve (and Corey wouldn’t be eight for two more weeks) surely her parents would realize she was no longer one of the kids. She was one of the adults.

“Hello! Where’s our birthday girl?”

Ellen smiled as she heard her grandparents arrive. She was certain that Grandma and Grandpa would acknowledge her new mature status by giving her an appropriately
adult birthday present. Grandma and Grandpa always seemed to know exactly what Ellen wanted, even when she didn’t know herself.

Maybe they would give her a makeup kit or one of those big scarves that were so fashionable now. At least she could count on Grandma and Grandpa not to buy her a doll or some kiddie game, like the stupid one Corey wanted for his birthday.

Ellen hugged her grandparents. She noticed that they didn’t carry a wrapped package. They put a large white envelope on the table where the other birthday presents were.

It’s a gift certificate, Ellen thought. Maybe they bought me a make-over at a fashionable beauty salon. I’ll get my hair styled and my nails manicured and I’ll be able to pass for fourteen, if I want to.

The more she thought about it, the more she was positive that’s what the envelope contained. She had been trying to grow her brown hair long enough to wear it in a French braid but meanwhile, it just flapped around her ears, like fringe on a blanket. A good styling salon would change that. She would be gorgeous. Well, maybe not gorgeous—even the best salons can’t work miracles—but anything was bound to be better than her hair the way it was.

She decided to open the envelope last, to save Grandma and Grandpa’s surprise for the very end. The grand finale.

After dinner and the birthday cake, and after she had opened a gift from her parents and one from Corey, she finally reached for the envelope from Grandma and Grandpa.

As she did, Grandma said, “Before you open that, we need to tell you that it is a joint birthday gift for you and Corey.”

“You mean,” Corey said, “what’s in the envelope is half mine?”

“That’s right.”

Ellen could not believe her ears. A joint present with Corey? That infant? How could this be? If her present was something Corey would like, it would be way too babyish for her. Especially now that she was mature. And what about her hair? She tried to hide her disappointment.

“Do I get to see it today, too?” Corey asked. “Even though my birthday is still two weeks away?”

“Yes. We didn’t want to make Ellen wait, so you get your gift early this year, Corey.”

Ellen forced a smile as she opened the envelope. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful, no matter how much she wished they had given her a present of her own instead of something to share with Corey.

There was a certificate inside the envelope. “What’s it say?” Corey cried. “Hurry up and read it!”