Terror at the Zoo (9 page)

A
S ELLEN
passed the Nocturnal House, she heard voices inside.

Her first instinct was to rush in, to see who it was, but she forced herself not to. Instead, she eased cautiously toward the door that leads to the viewing walkway. She pushed it only until she could hear clearly through the crack. It was light inside, to make it seem like daytime for those animals.

“What’s a kid like you doing here alone in the middle of the night?” The man’s voice was angry. “What’d you do, run away from home?”

“I’m on a camp-out,” Corey said.

“Sure, you are. And I’m the Boy Scout leader.”

“My grandparents bought the camp-out at a charity auction.”

“Your grandparents are here, too?” The man sounded alarmed.

“Yes,” Corey said, without hesitation. He was so convincing that for a moment Ellen wondered if Grandpa and Grandma had come to the zoo while she was off looking for Corey. “My sister’s here, too,” Corey continued, “and both my brothers and my mother and father, and all of my aunts and uncles and cousins. Even some of our neighbors.”

“You’re lying,” the man said. “If all those people were camping out at the zoo, I would have heard them.”

“You’ll hear them soon,” Corey said, “because they’ll be looking for me.”

There was a brief silence. Then the man muttered, “Well, they won’t find you. You and I are going on a little camp-out of our own and we’re going to stay there until all those relatives of yours cough up twenty grand.”

“You mean you’re going to hold me for ransom?” Corey’s voice was higher than usual and the question ended with a little squeak.

“Smart kid. Now shut up and let me think.”

“But my parents don’t have any money,” Corey said. “My father is crippled and blind and my mother has AIDS from a blood transfusion that she got. Neither of them can work. There’s no way they can pay you a ransom.”

Ellen’s jaw dropped. She had heard Corey tell some crazy stories before but this one topped them all.

“People who go to charity auctions have money. Now shut up!”

Silence.

Ellen eased the door closed and stood outside in the darkness. Her throat felt tight. She wanted to burst into
tears and run back to the tent and hide, but she knew she couldn’t do that. Somehow, she had to help Corey. She had to get him away from the man.

I’ll climb the fence, she decided. I take gymnastics lessons; I’m strong. I’ll go back to the south gate, climb the fence, and call the police.

She hurried along the path, walking as quickly as she could in the dark. When she was past the house where the great apes live, she turned on her flashlight again and began to run. Past the Family Farm, past the open-air theater, past the food stand. By the time she reached the south gate, she was out of breath. She stood for a moment, panting, and looking up. There were brick walls on both sides of the entrance. Wooden lattice, covered with vines, made a canopy overhead for several feet in front of the walls. There was no way she could get through that.

She went toward the exit turnstile until the brick wall ended and a chain link fence began. She would have to climb the chain link fence.

You can do it, she told herself. You MUST do it. It’s the only way to save Corey.

She stretched up and grasped the fence above her head. Wedging the toe of her right shoe into the fence, she pulled herself up. She tried to get her left foot positioned, too, but when she put her weight on her right foot, it slipped out of the wire fencing. The holes in the fence were not big enough to allow her to get a solid foothold.

She dropped back to the ground. Quickly, she tried again. This time, she managed to lift herself onto her right foot but was unable to put her left foot in the fence. She clung to the fence, leaning into it, unwilling to jump
down and start over but unable to continue. She held on tightly with her right hand, leaned over, and untied her left shoe. She kicked her heel against the fence until the shoe came off and fell to the ground. Now she could curl her toes around the fencing. Through her sock, she could feel the wire and grip it.

She removed her other shoe the same way and then, feeling like one of the monkeys, she began to climb. One hand up, one foot up. Next hand. Next foot. Although she knew she must hurry, she climbed cautiously. Even without her shoes, it was difficult to get a solid grip. Twice, one foot slipped out of the wire but she was able to hold on with the other until she could regain her balance.

Reaching above her head, she felt the top of the fence. She was almost there. Going down wouldn’t be so hard. She could let her feet slide down the other side of the fence and just hang on with her hands. All she had to do was make it over the top.

She grasped the top tightly with both hands and pulled herself up. She swung her left leg up and crooked her knee over the top. Her leg hit barbed wire.

She reached out, feeling gingerly with her hand. From the top of the fence, three strands of barbed wire angled out toward the parking lot. The cuff of her jeans was caught on the first strand. She tugged. It held fast.

There was no way she would be able to climb over barbed wire. She tried to kick her left leg free. Her fingers ached, from hanging on to the fence. She kicked again. And again. A piece of barbed wire pierced her sock and cut her ankle.

She gave another furious kick. She heard the sound of her jeans tearing and tried to stop in midkick but it was too late. As the material gave way, she lost her balance and fell.

She clutched frantically at the wire as she fell, trying to grab on and stop herself. Her fingers slid too fast; her hands bumped helplessly down the fence and she thudded to the ground.

As she started to sit up, a sharp pain shot through her left shoulder. She lay back down and waited for the pain to subside.

Tears stung her eyes as she lay huddled at the bottom of the fence. She wasn’t going to make it over the top.

Gently, she poked her shoulder and winced at the touch of her fingers. A broken collarbone? Bad bruise? She wasn’t sure what was wrong but she knew it hurt. Her scratched ankle hurt, too. She would probably have to get a tetanus shot tomorrow, on top of everything else. Then she felt guilty for feeling sorry for herself when Corey was being held hostage.

She did not try to scale the fence again. It wouldn’t do Corey any good if she fell off the fence and killed herself. She would have to get help some other way.

She found her shoes and put them back on. Then, holding her left arm close to her side and trying not to move it, she started back along the path toward the Nocturnal House.

How long had she been gone? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Were the man and Corey still in the Nocturnal House? She didn’t turn on her flashlight, for fear the man was nearby and would see her.

As she walked, she tried to think. Where was the security guard? Had something happened to him? Or was he somewhere on the zoo grounds, able to help her and Corey if he knew they needed it? How could she reach him?

There had to be other telephones somewhere. Where? She couldn’t stumble around the zoo in the dark all night, hunting for a telephone. Corey needed help fast.

When she got back to the Nocturnal House, she eased open the door again and listened. Silence. Ellen’s throat felt tight. They had left. The man had taken Corey somewhere and now she would never find him again.

Just as she let go of the door, she heard a slight sniffling noise. She recognized it immediately as the sound Corey always made when his allergies acted up or when he had been crying. She could almost hear her mother saying, “Corey, stop that sniffling. If your nose is running, get a tissue.”

They were still inside. Maybe the man was hiding, unsure how many people were looking for Corey.

She tiptoed a few feet away from the Nocturnal House, where she wouldn’t be seen if the man decided to leave. Quickly, she figured out a plan.

She would yell out, as if she were calling to other people, that she had found Corey. She would make it sound like a whole group was on their way to the Nocturnal House.

Had the man believed Corey when he said there were other people on the camp-out? Probably. After all, it was unlikely that Corey would be here alone.

The man probably thought there were others here. If
he did, her plan might work. The man might run away rather than taking a chance that he would be surrounded by a mob of angry relatives. And then she and Corey would run, too, and hide somewhere until morning, or until help arrived.

Even if the man didn’t run, the security guard might hear her yell and come. He was probably looking for them anyway. It must be after midnight. If the guard checked the tent and found it empty, he would be alarmed. He would try to find them.

By now, maybe Mom and Dad were home and had called the police or the president of the zoo or someone. Even if Mom and Dad weren’t home yet, Grandpa and Grandma would be back by now and would find the note. Help might be on the way already.

Maybe I shouldn’t yell quite yet, Ellen thought. Maybe I should wait awhile. Stay right where I am and wait for someone to come. Except the security guard might NOT be looking for them. Mom and Dad might NOT be home. Help might NOT be on the way.

She took a deep breath, planted her feet firmly on the path outside the Nocturnal House and yelled as loudly as she could, “This way, everybody. I think I’ve found him.” She waited a few seconds and when nothing happened, she yelled again. “He’s over here. In the Nocturnal House. Come on, everyone! This way!”

The door of the Nocturnal House burst open. With the light behind them, the silhouettes of the tall man and the small boy were plainly visible.

Ellen gasped. The man had one arm firmly around Corey’s neck. In his other hand, he held the long sharp
knife. “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 stopped briefly on Ellen and then, after waiting for a few more seconds, he looked at her again and said, “Come here.”

He knows I was bluffing, Ellen thought. He knows I’m the only one out 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?”

I
NSIDE
the Nocturnal House, the man kicked at the wall. “Of all the rotten luck. Just when everything was rolling my way, I get saddled with a couple of brats.”

“You don’t have to be saddled with us,” Corey said. “You could let us go.”

“Sure. And have you go screaming to Mama and Papa.”

“They aren’t . . .” Corey stopped.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “They aren’t what? They aren’t here? That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?”

Corey didn’t answer.

The man nodded his head slowly, as if the pieces of a puzzle had fallen into place. “You kids are here alone. That’s why nobody came when you yelled. And that’s why you’re going to do exactly as I say. Because there’s no one to rescue you.”

“There’s a security guard,” Ellen said. “He’s on his way here right now.”

“No, he isn’t.”

“Why are you being so mean?” Corey said. “We didn’t do anything bad to you.”

“No? Well, the rest of the world did. But not anymore. Old Tony’s in charge now and you kids are going to make me a bundle of cash. Twenty grand, to be exact.”

“Why do you need money so badly?” Ellen asked. “Don’t you have a job?”

“Job?” The man started to laugh. “Don’t you have a job?” he repeated, as if it were the funniest joke he’d ever heard.

Ellen and Corey looked at each other. Corey shrugged his shoulders.

“What’s so funny about having a job?” Ellen said. “Most people have one.”

The man quit laughing. “I’m not most people. I’m Tony Haymes. You won’t find me grubbing around for eight hours every day, breaking my back so the boss can get rich. No way. Old Tony’s too smart for that.”

“If you don’t have a job,” Corey said, “how do you pay your bills?”

“I’ve been living rent-free.” The man started laughing again. Ellen looked at Corey and rolled her eyes. This guy was some kind of a wacko.

“When you’re smart enough,” the man said, suddenly serious again, “you don’t need a job. You can get plenty of bucks without working.”

“You steal money, don’t you?” Corey said.

“I take what I deserve.”

“It’s wrong to steal.”

“What are you, my conscience?” The man looked at
them with such loathing that both Corey and Ellen took a step backward.

“If you get caught,” Corey pointed out, “you’ll go to jail.”

“Tell me about it.”

The way he said, “Tell me about it,” made it clear that he already knew firsthand about going to jail. Ellen shuddered. Who was this Tony? And how were she and Corey going to get away from him?

“Listen hard,” Tony said. “This is what we’re going to do and I don’t want any screwups.”