Read The Mysterious Abductions Online
Authors: Tracey Hecht
The Mysterious Abductions (3 page)
“I
t is mystifying! Stupefying! Absolutely flabbergastefying!” exclaimed Bismark, searching under a stone. “Where could your brother have gone?”
The animals were retracing their path up the river, looking for cluesâfootprints, torn branches, scratch marks on bark. Anything that might help them find Cora's brother.
“If only I had been there when you were being chased,” said Bismark, stretching his flaps at full length. “I would'veâ¦I would've⦔ He paused, racking
his brain. “Well,” he continued, “I would've done something courageous, something grand, something très
magnifique
!”
“Cora,” said Dawn, ignoring her friend, “do you think you would recognize the exact place where you jumped into the water? Or the last place you saw Joe?”
Cora was about to reply when suddenly, out of the midnight shadows, four rumpled bats barreled onto the scene, zigzagging out of control through the air.
“Look out!”
“Aye!”
“Ouch!”
“
Oy vey
!”
Wham! Splat! Smush! Crunch!
One after the other, the bats pummeled headfirst into the trunk of a tree, then landed in a mangled heap at its base.
“Oh goodness!” exclaimed Tobin. The pangolin cocked his head in concern at the mound of sinewy limbs and black wings.
“Excuse us!” said a bat, making his way to his feet.
“Just a small glitch in the biosonar,” said another. “Perfectly normal.”
Tobin stared with wide eyes. “Perfectly normal?” he asked.
The Brigade and the wombat eyed the bats as they rose to their feet, dusted their wings, and teetered into an unsteady line.
“Bats,” muttered the sugar glider. “Absolutely disgusting.”
The fox glared at Bismark. But upon inspecting the creatures before her, she understood what he meant. The fur on their chests was matted and mangy, and their rickety wings were covered in scrapes.
“Hmmm,” Tobin mused. Squinting, he examined the bats then turned to Bismark. At a glance, the animals looked nearly identical. They were similar in size, with furless wings and fuzzy torsos. The pangolin blinkedâhis vision was always a little fuzzy. “Are you all related?”
The sugar glider gasped in horror. “No!” he exclaimed. “
Absolument
pas!” Bismark puffed out his chest. “I am a proud marsupial, not some cave-dwelling, ceiling-hanging rodent.” The sugar glider spun on his toes, showcasing the black stripe on his back.
“Definitely a marsupial,” muttered a bat.
“No ability to fly,” said another.
Bismark's face flamed with rage. “Of course I can fly!” he yelled, flailing his flaps through the air.
“I glide through the tallest of trees. Soar through the windiest of winds. Sail through the stormiest of skies!”
“Glide? Yes.”
“Soar? Maybe.”
“Fly? No.”
The bats huddled and snickered.
Dawn quickly stepped in to ease the tension. “Maybe you can help us,” she said.
The creatures wobbled back into line.
“This is Cora,” continued the fox, “and her brother is missing. Did you see any wombats as you flew past?”
“Can't much see,” said a bat.
“Terrible eyes,” said another.
“That's why we use echolocation,” explained a third. “We send out a sound, it hits something, then it echoes back. That's how we locate the object.”
“Though that's on the fritz, too,” said the fourth. He rubbed his throat. “Larynx trouble.”
Dawn paused, a bit confused now herself. “Soâ¦you don't know of any strange occurrences?”
“Strange occurrences?”
“We know all about those.”
“Terrible mess in the valley these days!”
“Animals disappearing faster than tsetse flies on the tongue!”
The bats all answered in turn.
“You mean, you know of others who have recently vanished?” The fur on Dawn's back stood on end.
“
Svor
! Never seen these parts so empty.”
“Nor so quiet.”
“Except for the screamsâ¦.”
The fox's breath caught in her throat. The bats had confirmed her fear that Cora's brother had not disappeared just by chance. He was one victim of many. And there would be many more if the Brigade did not intervene.
“I
must face the truth, feel the blow, suffer the pain!” Bismark wailed as he paced amidst the tall grass. Bismark was still agitated as he rose from his bed in time to see the first evening star. After the encounter with those four irksome creatures, he had slept terribly.
“You do not look like a bat!” insisted Tobin.
The pangolin tumbled out from the hollow eucalyptus where he had slept. He felt terrible. He had not meant to offend the small sugar glider the previous eveningânot at all. But Bismark ignored the pangolin
and turned instead to the fox.
“Dawn, I beg of you. The truth. I must have it!” Dramatically, the sugar glider fell to his knees, clasping his fingers as if in prayer.
“Bismark.” Dawn sighed. “You do not look like a bat.”
“Really? Do you mean it?” Bismark glanced up at the fox, his eyes full of hope.
“Goodness, no!” Tobin quickly chimed in. “Not at all!”
“Dawn, can you gaze upon my face without the image of a blood-sucking rodent entering your mind?”
“Bismark, enough,” said the fox. “You are very handsome. And you do not look like a bat.”
“Of course I don't!” he exclaimed, bounding back to his feet. “Do you see the sheen of this fur? The elegant curve of this tail? The strong line of this jaw? A bat? Impossible!”
The little sugar glider rushed to the fox, threw his arms around her shins, and buried his face in her fur. “Oh, my beloved!” he cried. “I thank you. I thank you for your honesty and your clear vision.” Bismark gave a deep, grateful bow.
Tobin smiled. But then, as Cora emerged from the eucalyptus, his forehead creased with concern. The
wombat, sweaty, sleepy, and shaky, had clearly suffered fitful dreams.
“Maybe we should get going soon,” offered the pangolin.
“Yes,” Dawn agreed. She walked over to the bats, who were just waking as well. “Make sure to have a drink before we set out. It might be a long march.”
“Good thinking, fox,” said a bat.
“The old gullet was getting a bit parched,” agreed his brother.
“
Svor
.”
Tobin and Cora also leaned over the bank and took a few sips of river water, but Bismark turned toward the fox. “Did you know,” he began, “that sugar gliders need less water than bats? We can survive on just a few raindrops a day.” Beaming with pride, Bismark reclined against a small rock and plucked a leaf from a fern. “True fact,” he continued, licking a droplet of dew from the plant. “That,
mio amore,
is just one of the many ways the sugar glider outshines the bat, though I am happy to share all the others.” He cleared his throat, stood, and mounted the rock. “Shall we begin with where it begins?” he said. “Birth.”
Bismark raised a stick in the air in preparation for his lecture. But before he could speak, the midnight
sky rang with a sudden, loud scream.
“Eeeeeeeee!”
Snap!
Boom!
The forest shook, branches broke, and something heavy fell with a thud.
“
Mon dieu
!” cried Bismark, crouching behind his stone.
“Oh goodness!” Tobin gulped. “What was that?”
“That was the same noise I heard last night when Joe disappeared!” Cora piped up.
“Aye!”
“
Svor
!”
“That's the one!” the bats confirmed. “Quick,” the fox commanded. “Follow me.” Dawn bolted upstream toward the sound. Cora, Bismark, and Tobin quickly followed, running full-speed. The bats scrambled to bring up the rear. Suddenly, the wombat called out, “Stop!”
The group came to a halt.
“Here,” Cora breathed. “It was here. I remember because of those rocks.”
Dawn, Tobin, and the wombat inspected the jagged formation jutting into the river. Bismark glided close behind.
“I detect traces of a struggle,” Dawn remarked.
“Wombat hairs, nail scratches in the mossâthankfully, there are no signs that someone was eaten.”
Cora sighed with relief.
“But it's strange,” Dawn continued. “There's no trail leading to or away from here. It's as if Joe simply disappeared.”
Dawn and Cora circled the rocks, searching for clues. Bismark followed Dawn, purely for the sake of it, and the bats poked around in the riverbank. Tobin lingered back near the tree line. His keen ears detected a twig snapping in the bushes behind them. With the others distracted, the pangolin decided to investigate the sound himself.
Cautiously, Tobin peered into the dense tangle of leaves. At first, he couldn't make out much of anything besides dark branches and shadows. But then he caught a glimpse of two small points of light. He squinted, trying to see a little more clearly. Were those berries catching the moonlight? Perhaps drops of dew?
As suddenly as the lights appeared, they winked out. Tobin leaned in closer, tilting his head to the side, hoping to see them again.
There they were! But this time, they were larger, closer. Two deep, brown rings with dark dots at the centers. Eyes! Someone was watching them.
“O
h dear!” cried Tobin. “Everyone, come quick!”
In an instant, Dawn, Bismark, Cora, and the bats appeared at his side.
“There's an animal in there!” Tobin whispered, pointing to the dense brush.
Together, the four friends and the bats formed a line and slowly stepped toward the bush. They craned their heads forward. Something was moving in there, but
it was too fast to track.
“Tobin, what did you see?” asked Dawn.
As if in response, two large ears popped up from the grass nearby, followed by a long tail with a brush-like tuft of fur at the end. The body of the creature was hidden as it sprinted away into the forest.
Her teeth bared, the fox pounced after the creature. The hair on her back stood up in wiry spikes.
“Be careful,
mia bella
!” cried Bismark, clasping his heart with both hands.
But Dawn was too late. The mysterious animal had disappeared into the dark woods.
“Everyone, stay on guard,” said the fox. She had no doubt that the creature was hiding nearby, watching them still. Her eyes darted over the brush, searching for any sign of the long-tailed spy. “And if anyone sees or hears something unusual, give the following call.” Dawn raised her head and yowled a high-pitched note.
The others nodded.
“Like this?” asked Cora. “
Arooo
.”
“No time to be shy!” declared Bismark. “A real howl is born from the gut. Now listen and learn.” The sugar glider took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and yodeled into the night.
“Yes,” said the bats. “With
chutzpah
!”
“Blurghhhh,” Tobin gurgled.
“No, no, no,” said the sugar glider. “Much too much throat.”
“Blurghhhh!” The pangolin continued to gurgle. He was growing red in the face.
Cora looked at her friend with concern. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“The call!” said Tobin. “I'm making the call. Look!” The pangolin pointed toward the tree line ahead. Waddling out of the leaves were two flightless birds. With their fuzzy brown feathers and little round bodies, they resembled a pair of coconuts.
“Plump prowlers of the night!” yelled the sugar glider. “Explain your presence at once!”
The birds bumbled toward the group.
“My name is Burt,” said the smaller of the two. “And this here is Becka, my wife. We were simply searching for food.”
“Humph!” exclaimed Bismark. “Searching for victims, more like it!”
The fox shook her head at the sugar glider's distrust. It was clear that these kiwi birds posed no threat. “I apologize,” she said, speaking on her friend's behalf.
“Oh, it's okay,” said Becka. “Everyone seems on
edge in these dangerous times.”
Dawn's ears stood erect. “Dangerous times?”
“Oh, yes,” replied Burt. “Terrible, these nappings. Just terrible.”
Cora stepped forward, eyes wide. “Nappings? You know of them, too?”
The kiwi birds nodded. “How could we not?” replied Burt. “Seems like everywhere you go, animals are missing.”
Becka nodded. “Twenty-two years, we've been together. Twenty-two years, and twenty-two tots. Chose this place for the kids. A family area, a peaceful place. And now⦔ Tearfully, she buried her beak in Burt's feathered breast. “Well, I'm just worried sick!”
“There, there, Peaches. There, there,” whispered Burt. “You just let it all out.” Tenderly, the bird stroked his wife's head. Then he turned back toward the Brigade. “We've lost so many,” he said. “So many dear friends.”
“Twelve,” said Becka, raising her face from Burt's chest. “Just last night, my cousin Bailey was taken!” The kiwi burst into sobs.
Burt lowered his feathered head. “You're down at Patterson Pond, minding your own business, looking for worms in the mud,” he sighed. “And the next thing you knowâ¦whomp! Gone.”
The wombat groaned, and scrunched her eyes shut. Tobin rested his paw on her shoulder.
“Wait,” said Dawn, approaching the birds. “What was that you just said?”
Burt looked in her eyes. “Whomp!” he repeated, this time with more force.
“No, no,” muttered Dawn. “The other thing. About the pond.”
“Oh!” said Burt, clearing his throat. “Right. Yes. Like I said, poor Bailey was just down by Patterson Pond. You know, the one near the coyote dens. That's where all the plump worms live.” The kiwi bowed his head. “Those delicious, delicious worms.”
“Tragic,” said Becka. “Digging in the mud one minute, disappeared the next. Absolutely tragic.”
“Tragic, yes,” said Dawn, but the fox looked preoccupied. As if pulled by an invisible string, she was drawn toward the river. The others followed.
“What is it?” Tobin asked, joining the fox.
“Patterson Pond,” she said. She stared at the opposite bank, lost completely in her thoughts.
A cool breeze blew through the grass, sending a chill down Tobin's spine.
Dawn turned back toward the birds. “Why don't you two go check on your children?” she said. “Thank
you for sharing your story. You've been very helpful.”
The kiwis nodded and then, side-by-side, shuffled back toward the woods.
Dawn looked at Bismark, Tobin, and Cora. Her Brigade-mates stared back at her, waiting for instruction.
“We must cross the river,” she said, her voice determined and strong, “and make our way toward the pond.”
“Toward the pond?” said Bismark. “You mean, toward the coyotes!” His eyes bulged out of his head. “Have you gone
loco,
my lady?”
Tobin shuddered. The coyotes were crafty, cruel killers with big appetites. But he knew they had to find Joe, and now the missing kiwi birds, too. “Let's go,” he said, forcing himself to sound brave.
Everyone nodded. Although they were scared of what they might find across the river, something told them Dawn had a plan.