Teddycats (15 page)

THE LIGHTS SNAPPED
on just as suddenly as they had gone out. The brightness burned Bill's eyes. He dug his snout deeper into the crook of his arm, hoping to fall back asleep and wake up someplace else. Duffy was still snoring. There were clicks, flutters, yawns, and yelps as the captives slowly rose to face another day in their cages. But while his first night in the cage had been far from peaceful, Bill did feel more attuned to his surroundings, more aware, and more certain than ever that they needed to escape. He vowed to follow every lead presented. He would not become another caged animal, lapping at his bowl, lost to the wild, instincts fried and wiped. This would not become his new normal. He tried to remember the fear he had felt—in the jungle, on the river, in the savanna—and focus on the thrill of it, the shock and power it delivered. That was what he needed to harness in order to survive. He couldn't let the humans take that away from him.

“When do the humans come with food?” Bill asked.

“Not for a while,” Henri said.

“Look at you,” Edgar said. “All that big talk last night, and now you want breakfast.”

“That's not it,” Bill said, though he
was
hungry.

Elena was as bright and chirpy as ever. “Good morning, Bill!” she said, like it was any other day.

“Hi, Elena!” he said, trying to match her enthusiasm.

Just then, the hatch that led to the outside was unsealed and began to draw open with a wheeze.

“Looks like you got your wish,” murmured Henri.

The room took on a static stillness as a parade of white-shrouded humans entered. Bill was nearly certain that the human at the front of the line was the one who had captured him, even though he had not gotten a good look at its face or any other identifying characteristics. This certainty grew as the lead human approached his cage and the others formed a small circle.

The next thing he knew, one of them was unlatching his cage. A sliver of opportunity! Bill made himself small, ready to dart. While it was true that he hadn't fully sketched out his escape plan, he
had
promised to chase every chance full throttle. Instead, he surprised and disappointed himself by recoiling as the human stuck its forepaw inside.

The human purred as it reached into the cage.

Bill was in pure reflex mode, frozen somewhere between fight and flight. The human crouched down, and for the first time Bill saw its face: kindly drawn eyes; sharp, freckled cheeks; a wry smile that instantly reminded Bill of his mother's. He was taken aback. This was not the human he had been expecting. He had expected Joe, a tar-streaked smoker, greasy with an evil glint. This human smelled sweet and citrusy. It had straw-colored hairs, which were tucked loosely behind the ears.

The human reached further into the cage and grabbed hold of Bill's left paw. And suddenly, his jungle instincts returned. Or maybe it was just panic, the thought of Jack's torture and the images Vic's stories evoked. Losing a claw would be too great an indignity. He could face failure and capture, but there was no way he was going to live out the rest of his days neutered and ashamed. Bill bared his claws and slashed at the human. A jagged ribbon of blood appeared on the human's foreleg, and a small splatter stained the cage. The human yelped and yanked its paw back out. Another human, this one larger and gruffer, approached and slammed the cage shut.

Bill panted as his senses returned. The old panic fizzled into something softer, sadder. He felt guilt and remorse. The circled humans were frantic, clearly fussing over the injured one's wounds and shooting Bill troubled, disapproving looks.

The other animals were silent, on edge. Though contained to their cages, Bill felt them pull away from him. Even Duffy was awake and watchful, his heavy breathing only slightly less labored than his snores. Bill could understand why they would want to create distance between themselves and him, his actions, but he couldn't actually believe that they thought he had done the wrong thing. After all, he hadn't been placed in his cage willingly.

But he could already see that defense wouldn't fly in the eyes of at least one witness: Elena. She looked scared, and not of the humans.

AS SOON AS
the humans left in a huff and the exit was once again sealed shut, Bill tried to explain himself to Elena and the others. “I didn't mean to hurt it,” he said. “I really didn't. It was self-defense, just a scratch.”

“Whatever it was, I hope it was worth it,” Henri said. “Rule number one, kid: Don't bite the paw that feeds you.”

“It does more than feed,” Bill said. “We don't have much time. Who knows what they're doing outside, what they're deciding? We need to break out of here, and fast.”

“Bill, just be nice,” Elena said.

She was disappointed in him. He knew the feeling
all too well. But he would have to make it up to her later. Right now, Bill needed to orchestrate a jailbreak.

There was no telling how the humans would respond to his impulsive violence, and he didn't really want to be around to find out. What if they summoned Joe? He scanned the room for vulnerabilities. There weren't many. Every surface was gleaming, every cage secured. As for cohorts, it seemed unlikely the other animals would be of any assistance. But all was not lost. He still had his claws—for now—and if he could use them to escape his cage, break Elena out (and convince her she was safer with him than with the humans), he might be able to slip out when the humans reentered. Or maybe the window was the answer. The green forest pressed against the pane. They could crawl out and disappear into the wild. It was definitely big enough for them to fit through, and there was a trickle of rust leaking from one corner.

Bill stared at the window longingly and lapsed into a daydream. He was at home, curled up in his straw and watching the light shift through the clouds. He could hear his mother bustling about and his father working in the garden. He was warm and surrounded by love. All of his friends were nearby. Maia, Luke, Diego, even Omar. Things were simple, back to normal. No, they were better than normal. They were safely situated in a peaceful future where Teddycats and Olingos and other creatures were bound together
and stronger than ever. He saw from their faces that he hadn't disappointed them or let them down, hadn't made promises he couldn't keep, hadn't led their family members astray or left them to fend for themselves on a sun-blasted savanna.

Oh, what Bill wouldn't do to see everyone again, happy and free. Until then he would have to survive on dreams. But even Bill was amazed by the vividness and clarity of his fantasy. This sterile room's relentless, buzzing whiteness, its lack of stimuli—all of this must have caused these hallucinations . . .

. . . because there was Maia in the window, so close and so real that Bill felt like he could almost reach out and touch her.

“
Psst
, Bill,” said the vision of Maia in the window. “Look alive. We're breaking you out of here.”

IT HAD FINALLY
happened. Bill had finally lost it. He was seeing things and hearing voices that weren't really there. He had expected this to happen when he was in the savanna—exhausted, dehydrated, amid blurry waves of heat. But here, in the temperature-controlled lab, the visions were jarring. This didn't bode well for his long-term prospects as a cage dweller.

The vision of Maia was still at the window, appealing to Bill. He turned away to try to shut her off.

“Excuse me, Bill,” Henri said.

“Now what?” Bill murmured, trying to sound sane.

“I believe you have a visitor.”

Henri pointed his tail to the window.

“Wait. You can see it, too?” Bill asked. His fur stood up, and his heart raced. “Tell me, Henri, what exactly do you see?”

Henri slowly craned his neck. Bill's eyes followed his as they landed on the window together. There, Maia
smiled impatiently and gave a stiff wave.

“A Teddycat,” Henri said. “Female, I believe, with . . .”

Bill flipped. Joy was shooting out of his ears.

“You see what I see! Maia is real!”

“Of course I'm real, you dodo,” Maia said. “Now snap out of it! We're bouncing you out.”

“How'd you find me?” Bill asked, still reeling.

“I ran into these guys,” Maia said.

She turned around, and suddenly, two more faces emerged through the leaves. It was Luke and Diego, snouts pressed against the glass.

“Surprise!” Luke said.

“Good to see you, mate,” Diego said. “How they treatin' ya?”

“Fine!” said Bill. “Well, not really. But I'm feeling much better now. And Elena's here!”

“Elena!” Maia cried.

Her sister's head shot up, ears perked.

“Elena!” Maia said again, tapping the glass. “Where are you?”

“Here I am,” Elena said. “Down here!”

“There you are!” said Maia, wiping her eyes, their love all but bursting through the wall. “I've come to get you, sweetie.”

“How did you find us, anyways?” Bill asked. “No, wait, how did you meet up with Diego and Luke? And where's Omar?”

“We don't have time for a pop quiz,” said Maia.
“Omar is on lookout, down on the ground. I'll explain the rest later.”

The joyful reunion was brief, as everyone remembered the dangers of their situation.

“What's the play, mate?” Diego said. “You got this place all dialed in?”

“I wish,” said Bill. “The humans have it wrapped up tight. Do you guys have a plan?”

“Sure we do,” Maia said. “First things first, we need a distraction.”

Bill was still ecstatic but growing restless. Maia was taking too long to explain the plan. He preferred to be the one dishing plans out.

“Food is definitely going to be important if we want to pull this off,” said Maia. “But not your food, Bill.”

“So then whose food?”

“The human food.”

“The
human
food? They don't bring that in here.”

Maia rolled her eyes. “They're setting it up outside right now. It's steaming away under another shelter, mere steps from your cages.”

“Mere steps!” said Luke.

“So you're going to sabotage their dinner,” Bill said, stroking his chin, “and in the ensuing melee, break us out of here.”

“Basically,” Maia said. “Does that meet with your approval?”

Bill nodded. “So crazy it just might work.”

“Good,” said Maia. “Now . . .”

“But there are just a few potential hiccups,” Bill said.

Maia groaned.

“In no particular order: How do we guarantee that the one doing the distracting is going to be safe? How do we unseal the human exit? Who's coming with us? Where do we go from here?”

“Do you want to be rescued or not?” said Maia.

“Of course I do,” Bill said, “but I don't want to lose anyone else in the process. It's a vicious cycle. You know that.”

“You're wasting time and probably scaring Elena,” Maia said.

“We just have to do our best,” Elena said.

“That's right, sweetie,” Maia said, glaring at Bill.

“Can't argue with that,” Bill said. “So who's the lure?”

“Well,” Maia said, “originally we were going to pull straws, but then . . .”

Omar popped up. “I volunteered.”

ANOTHER WHITE-CLOAKED HUMAN
entered the room and refilled water and food. At the first wheeze of the entrance opening, Maia and the others folded back into the green abyss. Bill ate and drank lustily and encouraged the others to as well, especially Elena. They would need their strength, and who knew when they'd have their next meal.

The human stood there for a minute, watching them eat. Could the human tell what was going on just by observing them? Bill couldn't imagine it was any way to read the situation, but still, it was nerve-racking, the way it stood guard, perspiring and breathing heavily in the middle of the room. Finally, the human put its paws under a stream of water that flowed out of a sleek metal contraption by the exit, then left.

Maia and the others reappeared at the window. “Okay, Omar is going to run across the table, cause a scene, and lead the humans on a wild macaw chase.”
She paused, then turned toward a different set of cages. “Um, no offense.”

“None taken,” said Coco.

“With all that going on, nobody will hear Diego and me crash through this window. Careful,” she said, tapping the surface of the window, “I have a feeling this stuff is going to be sharp when it breaks. Bill, make sure everybody is paying attention.”

“Hey, everybody,” Bill announced. “Listen up. If you want out, we're making our move. The Teddycat
outside is named Maia. She's going to be coming through that window in a few minutes, so watch your heads.”

A murmur of excitement whipped through the room. But Bill knew it would be difficult for some of the captive creatures to leave their cages. He needed their trust. “Hey, Henri,” said Bill, “can you help me out on this? Be my second-in-command?”

“I'm too old for that, Bill,” Henri said. “Thank you for the offer, but I am electing to stay here. I would only slow you down.”

“Nonsense,” Bill said, “we need you.”

“I'm staying put, too,” said Edgar the ocelot. “I'd hate to get caught up and land you all in trouble.”

“That's just dead wrong, Edgar,” Bill said. “You're, like, the fastest thing in the jungle.”

“It's been too long,” said Edgar, as Henri sighed in agreement.

Bill stood on his hind legs and gripped the front of
his cage. “All right, everybody, listen up. Maia—Elena's sister and my friend—has been nice enough to come down here and draw up an escape plan. Now, you are all invited to come along, but I need to know before we get started and things start to unfold. So, a show of paws, claws, wings . . . whatever.”

They went around the room. Thankfully, Elena was on board. Duffy was noncommittal. Miguel and Coco were ecstatic. Vic said he thought they were all doomed but hey, why not? Edgar said he was in only if
Henri was in. Still, Henri demurred.

“Come on,” Bill said. “Just think about all the life you've got left to live out there.”

“I suppose it would be nice to feel useful again,” Henri said, his tail swinging.

“Yes!” said Bill. “Let's put that tail back to work.”

They heard the clatter of the human dinner before anything else. Funny-looking tools and vessels made of metal went flying upward in sudden confusion as the white sheet—gripped between Omar's teeth—disappeared beneath the altar upon which they dined.

The volume rose even higher as the humans' shock turned to bedlam. They were hollering, running in circles, chasing after Omar. The flimsy wooden things they propped their backsides on tipped backward. Hot, greasy water spilled from a sizzling contraption and splashed over everything.

It was the perfect cover: The window broke easily,
and the shards—which were just as sharp as Maia had predicted—fell safely to the floor.

Maia and Diego slipped down into the room and immediately went to Bill's cage.

“No,” he protested, “get Elena first. That's why you're here. Don't worry about me.”

“You free the older ones first,” Maia said. “Many paws, light work.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Bill said.

“It's one of those seemingly selfish but secretly
smart moves,” said Maia, as she unlatched his cage. “Kind of your specialty, Bill.”

Bill was free in seconds, and the three of them got to work uncaging the others. Maia scooped up Elena, and the two of them spun in circles of happy relief. Bill unlocked Henri's cage, and for the first time they stood face-to-face. “Nice to formally meet you,” said Bill.

“The pleasure is all mine,” said Henri, promptly turning to free Edgar and Coco.

Maia freed Miguel, which just left Diego and Vic, who were engaged in some kind of standoff. “Let's go, guys,” said Bill, as he rooted around the room, looking for extra food to bindle up and take with them. “Grab Vic, and we're out of here.”

“Little guy gives me the creeps, mate,” Diego said.

“Right back at you,” Vic hissed.

Bill found the feed sack and tossed it to Henri, who clasped it with his tail. “After everything we've
been through, Diego, this is where you draw the line?”

“He's upside-down,” Diego said, shuddering. “Makes my fur crawl.”

“Vic is a friend, and you need friends to survive in the jungle,” Bill said. “You know that.”

“Oh, all right,” Diego said, swiping at the latch. “Come on out, ya little bugger.”

THE SUDDEN BURST
into freedom delivered quite a shock to the captives. With the exception of Elena, who was in Maia's arms, they were woozy, still finding their bearings. Meanwhile, Omar continued to cause commotion. The window, while large enough for everyone to fit through, was awkwardly sized, and was now rimmed with sharp shards that clung stubbornly to the sides. Those who were not natural climbers (all except Maia, Diego, Henri, and Bill) or who couldn't fly (like Vic and Coco could) would have to go slowly to avoid getting sliced and snagged on the shards.

Maia and Elena went through first. Vic and Coco flew out, with Miguel catching a ride on Coco's back. One by one they disappeared into the leaves, safely out of sight.

This left Diego and Bill with Duffy, Edgar, and Henri. Henri was an able climber in his younger, wild days, but such a long time in a cage had taken its toll.

“We're going to help each other get out of here,”
Bill said. “Don't worry, we won't leave without anyone.”

A shrill call—like nothing Bill had ever heard come out of any animal or human—rang out from somewhere in the camp.

“That can't be good,” Diego said.

“Better hurry,” Bill said.

They pushed cages against the wall and helped Duffy up to the window. His unwieldy body rolled over the ledge. He was jiggly and ticklish, a bad combination.

“Grab hold of the branches, Duffy,” said Bill.
“Grab hold and pull yourself out.”

Instead, the sloth grabbed a cluster of leaves and ate it, closing his eyes, smiling dreamily.

“Don't you dare fall asleep, Duff!” Henri said.

Edgar whimpered anxiously.

Outside, the commotion seemed to be settling down some. It wouldn't be long before the humans took stock of the situation and decided to check on the captives.

One lesson Bill had learned on this mission: It usually didn't do any good to holler at a slowpoke. That just rattled them. But it wasn't every day that Bill shepherded a multispecies exodus from a human fortress, so he figured this might be an exception to the rule and gave it a shot.

“Get a move on, Duffy!” he shouted. “I'm not going down because you fell asleep halfway through an escape!”

Henri dropped the food he was holding—still
secure in its human-made pouch—and balanced himself against the wall. His tail rose up behind him and curled around Duffy's slumping midsection. The sloth's snores turned high-pitched as the graying fur around Henri's eyes narrowed to a brilliant fold of white.

With gasps and grunts Henri used his tail to lift the sloth over the ledge and into the trees.

“Well, that couldn't have gone worse,” Edgar said.

“Good news,” Bill said. “You're up next.”

“Bad news,” Edgar said. “I'm afraid of heights.”

“No, you are not,” Bill said.

“I'm afraid it's true,” Henri said.

The alien-sounding shriek was still bleating. The humans' distraction would soon be over, and it wouldn't be long before they closed in on the source of the mischief. They had limited time.

“Look,” Bill said. “I've lived my life high up in the trees. I can climb higher than you can imagine. You know what I say? All you have to do is get in the swing. Find the rhythm of the jungle and you'll be walking on air in no time.”

“Ah, you see . . . I belong on the ground,” Edgar said. “It's my nerves.”

“Sometimes we have to adapt,” Bill said. “It's painful . . .”

“But necessary,” said Henri, as his tail snaked around Edgar's sleek thorax, squeezed, and tossed him out the window.

“Nice!” Bill said. He jumped up onto the cage, skittered up the wall, and leaned out the window. “Edgar, you okay?”

There was only a rustle; all else was drowned out by the constant shrieking, the humans, the panic.

“Hey, Edgar?” he said again. “You make it?”

“Henri needs to work on his manners,” Edgar said, safely tangled in the brush.

“Quick and painless,” Bill said. “What could be better?”

Bill and Henri were the only remaining captives. The old monkey was a tad larger than Bill had predicted, but he had proved to be an invaluable part of the escape. It was on Bill to make good on his promises. He felt the burden of leadership settle on his shoulders.

No, wait. That burden was just Henri, preparing to vault the window by climbing up Bill's body.

“Steady,” Henri murmured.

“Right back at you,” said Bill.

Henri's opposable thumbs were no doubt very helpful in the wild, but at that moment they were really digging into Bill's neck.

“Somehow I've . . .” Henri huffed.

“How did you get spun around like that?” asked Bill.

“I've absolutely no idea,” Henri said. “But now I'm stuck.”

Bill ground his paws into the floor and tried to
push Henri out by the legs. It was no use. His backside was out the window while his limbs still dangled in the lab. Bill and the monkey met eyes—Henri wore a pained expression. He was embarrassed and afraid. Bill was trying to brainstorm what to do next, when he heard a familiar sound.

The big hatch wheezed open again, and a disheveled human entered. Bill and Henri froze. The human was only steps away, kicking mud off its feet. The white shroud was soiled, streaked with food and grass stains.
It seemed Omar had really caused a ruckus. He'd performed a truly heroic feat. Bill felt happy for his friend, and proud, as he pushed and pushed the spider monkey.

But Henri wouldn't budge.

The human was standing before the mounted water fountain, wetting small fibrous scraps and dabbing them on the stains. Miraculously, it still hadn't noticed the commotion by the window.

“Use your tail,” Bill pleaded.

“I'm trying,” Henri said. “There's nothing out there!”

“We're here!” Maia said from the other side. “Grab on to us!”

“That's Maia,” Bill said. “She'll pull you out.”

“Ow!” said Henri, but finally his body began to move.

The human kept fussing with his stained garments. He was like a cat, licking himself in the corner. It
seemed unlikely that such a fastidious creature would survive in the jungle, but Bill could only be thankful for each blessed additional second.

“Hurry!” Bill said. “We've got zero time!”

“Oooh,” groaned Henri. “This is most unpleasant. I told you this was going to happen! Through a window. Absurd! I haven't been able to fit through a window since . . .”

“You can . . . do . . . it,” Bill said, pushing with every fiber he had, his muscles clenched and sore, his
claws digging into the ground. “Maia, pull!”

“We're trying!” Maia said.

“He's a big boy, mate,” Diego grunted.

All at once, Henri slipped through the window frame with an audible
pop!

The human looked up.

The white shroud was wet, and the hides tied to its feet had been kicked off. Bill locked eyes with the human. He felt the cold stare bore through him. There was a lot he wanted to say to it. He wanted to explain the pain the humans had caused, chastise the arrogance of snatching a child in a cage and taking her away. He wanted to make them feel the loss of Felix, the strife in Cloud Kingdom. But there wasn't time, and the human wouldn't have understood.

Instead Bill climbed up the wall and vaulted out the window, back into the brush. The human just stood there, dumbfounded and helpless.