Teddycats (12 page)

IT WAS A
good question.

With the raft destroyed, their food and tools lost to the river, and nobody in much of a rush to get back on the water, the crew set about figuring their position. Luke and Omar gathered whatever foodstuffs they could find on the riverbank—mostly bland grass and slugs—while Diego tried to salvage what he could from the raft. There was very little left over, though he did manage to fashion a new prowling stick from one of the splintered hippo bones found washed up down the bank.

Bill sought high ground, as was his nature. He climbed a series of boulders, trying to calculate their distance from the savanna and, with any luck, the human den. He couldn't get too high—the waterfall's mist obscured the view—but he eventually hopped from a wet rock formation to an umbrella tree. He climbed the trunk until it began to bend, then took in the vista.

To the west was the waterfall. Bill shook his head. It seemed insane that they had survived. It looked like
a longer drop than the fall on the side of Cloud Kingdom, long considered a death sentence by Teddycats and featured in tragic jungle legends. To the east lay the continued arc of the river. It was impossible to see past the next bend. The savanna was straight ahead, flat and dusty. It appeared they had landed deep in the savanna. There was a thick but finite chunk of green between the dust bowl and what Bill hoped was the dent of the river valley.

He sighed and counted his blessings. Everyone was alive. The fresh air felt good—the humidity, once heavy and bothersome, now tasted sweet to his tongue and cool on his lungs—and carried the scent of fresh rain and breadfruit blossoms. Across the river, just before the bank slid into the savanna, there stood a huge tree, twisted and gnarly. Bill decided to cross the river and climb the giant. Hopefully the view from the top would confirm the edge of the savannah and lead them the rest of the way to the human den.

BILL SAUNTERED BACK
to the group, his eyes slightly glassy. He was still riding high off Felix's recovery and their miraculous survival. Every now and again a shiver would slither down his spine, a reminder of the sheer fact that he was alive. Bill thought it might be best if he
always
felt this way—grateful, full of wonder and
appreciation—and he pledged to dedicate more time to reflection as soon as this was all over and Elena was safe.

“Find anything useful?” Diego asked.

“Not much,” Bill said. “You?”

“Eh.” Diego shrugged, nudging a pile of scraps. “Not that we had a lot to begin with . . .”

“Now there's a bright side for you,” said Bill. “We're no longer weighed down with pesky supplies. Luke and Omar, how goes the hunting and gathering?”

“Depends,” Omar said. “If you like mudslugs, it's an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“A Teddycat cannot live on mudslugs alone,” Bill mused. “But they'll have to do for now. Felix, feeling any better?”

“Much improved, thank you,” Felix said, with an upturned grimace. “I saw you climbing—any idea where we are?”

Bill relayed the sights while choking down a scoop of muddy slugs. He tried not to oversell the prospects. It was only a tree in a jungle full of them, but it was better than nothing.

“And you think this tree is promising?” Felix asked.

“It's our only lead,” said Bill. “But it's closer to the savanna, and it might let us see which way the river snakes. With any luck it'll point us in the right direction.”

“Then I suppose we cross the river and hope for the best,” said Felix.

Snakes?
” said Luke.

ONCE FELIX ASSURED
the group that he was recovered enough to move, they humped across the river, arm in arm, through the edge of the basin's shallow water and slack current. Just downriver, before the bend, was another series of rapids, which reminded them all of their reasons for abandoning water travel for dry land.

“If I had to get chewed up, I'd choose a big cat to do it,” said Diego more or less out of nowhere. “Death by croc is the absolute worst way to go.”

“Is that right?” said Bill, trying not to imagine either scenario.

“Any day,” Diego said. “Less messy, for starters. Just ask Felix.”

“No thanks,” said Omar.

“Hey, Felix,” said Diego, unwilling to drop the subject, “you and your cat cousins are dainty eaters, yeah?”

“We're
respectful
,” Felix said. “By and large.”

“That's all you can ask for these days,” said
Diego. “Just a spot of respect. Not like what these
humans
are offering.”

“Amen,” said Omar.

They fished one another out of the water and shook themselves dry. Up close, the tree was even more massive than Bill had imagined. The roots alone dwarfed him. They stretched and folded like boas across the wide, grassy clearing that had developed in the tree's expansive ring of shade. It was the biggest tree he had ever seen. While the others offered encouragement, Bill heaved himself up a gnarled root, scampered to the vast trunk, and began to climb.

The bark was deeply grooved, making it easy to snag a claw, but Bill's limbs were still sore from the underwater thrashing. The tree seemed to go on and on. By the time he reached the first significant offshoots, a certain dizziness returned. He was not yet high enough to oversee the savanna, so he put his snout to the trunk and forced himself not to look down.

On the rare occasion when Bill felt outmatched by a climb, he narrowed his focus to the few inches right in front of him. The color of the bark was a rich, chocolate brown. It smelled old and nutty. Bill thought about how long the tree had been there and what it must have survived as the jungle grew and changed around it. He remembered what Felix had said about seasons and the long life cycles of the jungle. Countless plants had been suffocated, strangled by darkness, as
the enormous tree grew over hundreds of years.

Bill could no longer hear the shouts of encouragement coming from below. The air thinned. He was high enough to see over the surrounding area, but not through the shimmering mass of the tree's foliage. Bill dug in and kept climbing. His fur was dry, stripped by the altitude. Finally, the trunk began to narrow, and the upper limbs were slender enough to provide a glimpse through the leaves. He reached a sturdy nub and inched his way away from the trunk. He could see all the way to the savanna and the surrounding forests; in the distance, the slowly bending river. From that height, it all seemed very peaceful. Bill felt a pang of homesickness. But then, suddenly, he saw something: puffs of dark gray clouds, but not in the sky. They were coming from the earth, drifting up through the trees. He hooted with relief and delight.

“I see something!” Bill yelled down. “I think it's the humans!”

His words echoed across the jungle. He took one last look, savoring the triumphant view, and then began his descent.

BACK IN THE
shady clearing, Bill reported his findings.

“Huge plumes of weird gray clouds coming up from the earth, from the edge of the savanna,” he said.
“Does that jibe with what you saw, Luke?”

“Well, they
did
have a huge fire,” said Luke, shuddering as he remembered the humans' cold-blooded carousing as their captives cried throughout the night. “I think there were dark clouds spewing up from it, but it was hard to see . . .”

“This feels right,” said Bill, rubbing his paws together in anticipation.

He was trying not to get too far ahead of himself. They had already been through so much that it seemed impossible they might finally be this close. But as the excitement chased away his lingering fatigue and got the crew back in shape, it was hard not to feel like they were close to finding Elena and starting the trip back home.

“Wow,” said Omar. “Maybe that crazy river dropped us off exactly where we need to be.”

“Stranger things have happened, mate,” Diego said.

Felix was quiet, barely reacting to Bill's news. The waterfall and near drowning had obviously taken a toll. He was shivering, unable to get warm despite the heat and exertion, and he still wore the same dazed, peaceful expression. His spots were fading. Bill thought back to when he first met Felix, and his condition in Cloud Kingdom. Back there it had been hard to see Felix as truly sick. But Bill saw now that Felix's patience, generosity, and decency might have made him appear stronger than he was. It had never been just his leg. Felix was old, ill, and yet he had chosen to leave the safety
and comfort of Cloud Kingdom despite all that. Bill was determined not to fail him.

“What do you think, Felix?” asked Omar.

“Well, if those clouds are coming from a fire, then that almost certainly means humans,” said Felix.

“We can skirt the savanna and make it by dusk,” said Bill excitedly. “Luke and I will lead the way. Diego and Omar, help Felix. This is our shot, guys. Let's make it count.”

WIND BLEW IN
from the savanna, leaving dust on their tongues and in their eyes. Bill wished he still had his bindle so he could secure it over his snout. The others were having an even worse time. Felix was wheezing. Omar and Diego had to stop every few minutes to hold him as he hacked violently into his paw. Bill tried to ignore these painful sounds and focus on their destination. There were signs everywhere pointing to the humans: foreign litter, jagged and shiny wreckage, grooved and gaping tracks that spanned the width of the jungle paths, that sharp smell. The human mark on the jungle became glaringly obvious as they grew closer to the source of the gray cloud.

Bill could still see the plume. It was one of those things that, once seen, became very hard to unsee. Every shaft of sunlight seemed discolored, every cloud disturbed. A sense of rue and violation permeated the wild. Everything was unnaturally still, the wildlife
driven deep into hiding, as if waiting for the humans to take what they wanted and leave.

But what if they never left? What if they never got enough? Bill imagined the humans were at least as stubborn as the Elders, so if they really wanted something, they had no trouble ignoring everything else to get it. Still, Bill was excited to see the humans. He also believed, secretly, perhaps even subconsciously, that the jungle would reward his bravery and determination, that in the end it would grant victory to those who had always been there, those who called the jungle home and treated it respectfully.

Bill and Luke acted as scouts, blazing the trail. Every now and then Luke would point out something foreign left behind by the humans. Metal husks, shards made of a sharp translucent substance, deep tracks. Suddenly, somebody was calling Bill's name. He turned around. It was Omar, running to catch up.

“We've got to stop,” Omar said, breathing hard.

“We're so close,” Bill said. He knew that Felix was in pain, but he also believed that Felix would want them to reach the humans—and Elena—as quickly as possible. “Once we get within sight of the den we'll take a break and plan our next move. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great, Bill,” Omar said peevishly, “but Felix can barely walk. He can barely
breathe
. We have to slow down if he's going to make it the rest of the way.”

Bill stared at the ground and rubbed his snout. “What does Diego say?”

“He agrees with me,” said Omar. “Bill, we have to stop.”

“We're so close,” Bill whined. “Once we find the humans, Felix will have plenty of time to rest. Let's keep up the momentum.”

“How do you know that?” said Omar. “What if we need to grab Elena right away? What if she's hurt?”

“You know, you're right,” Bill said, puffing his chest and trying not to lose his cool. “I have no idea how this will actually turn out. Happy now? But I'm here for Elena, and I can't wait any longer. You've seen the humans' litter; you've seen the tracks. We're so close. Slow down if you need to, but Luke and I are going on ahead.”

“Um, Bill,” Luke said. “I know you're excited, but maybe we should rest for a while.”

“But we could be there any minute!” said Bill.

Omar sighed.

“Just give me this,” Bill said, lowering his voice. “I know you haven't trusted me for a long time, Omar, and I'm sorry that we grew apart, I'm sorry that I wanted Maia all to myself, and I'm sorry that I never stood up for you. But please, push the old guy just a little more.”

Omar seemed unconvinced and slightly embarrassed.

“Come on,” Bill said. “Of course I care about Felix.
He might not even be alive if not for me.”

“Okay,” Omar sighed. “I'll let him know we're close.”

“Thank you, Omar. We
are
close, I promise. I can feel it.”

THE FIRE LUKE
mentioned was still smoldering, those thick clouds rising from a pile of charred wood, blackened tangles of twigs, and more of those sharp and metallic shards the animals encountered along the way. The ashes had scattered across the den and settled in the swirls of mud and freshly severed tree stumps. Luke and Bill wandered the wreckage, waiting for the others to arrive, shaking their heads in disbelief.

“This was the place,” said Luke. “I guarantee it. I can still smell them.”

It was true that the site had a lingering, ghostly presence, but there were no signs of Elena or Jack, no traps or cages, no bones or graves.

“I don't understand,” Luke said. “Where did they go?”

Bill felt awful. He was not looking forward to the arrival of the rest of the gang, who had been carrying Felix for so many klicks, pushing him along because Bill had promised that they were close to finding Elena. But their best lead—Bill's lead—had led them only to an abandoned den. Now the humans could be anywhere.
They could be marching to Cloud Kingdom at that very moment. Bill had thought his insistence on speed was a sign of leadership, a hard decision made for the greater good of the mission, but standing in the ashes now, it felt more like a reckless tantrum. They had dashed through the jungle and nearly drowned, all for nothing.

He turned away from Luke. He didn't want his best friend to see his tears of guilt and frustration. A shudder of helplessness fluttered in his chest and pinched his brain. His ears were flat, his claws dull and useless. He would have to apologize to Felix, and he would have to find another way to save Elena and Jack, but he was all out of ideas.