away.
“You got a big mouth,” Butch said.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
“Where’s your friend Marty?”
“Who?”
“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Butch reached into his pocket with his free hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him, Luther.”
“My name isn’t Luther.”
Butch plunged something into Luther’s arm.
“Ouch!”
“Good night, Luther Smyth.”
“Huh? You’re craz …”
As Marty watched the Gizmo’s screen, helpless, Luther’s eyes rolled up in his head. Butch caught him as he slumped to the ground, threw him over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and started walking down the path.
Marty slammed open the stall door, ready to run to South America and save his friend, but he only took a couple of steps before stopping.
By the time I get down there, Butch will be gone. If I startrunning through the Ark like a maniac, the cameras will pick me up and I’ll be captured, too. What good would that do?
He looked again at the video stream. Butch had stopped in the middle of the path between South America and Antarctica, with Luther still slung over his shoulder like a corpse. Butch glanced up and down the path, then reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a credit card.
What’s he doing?
Marty zoomed the dragonspy camera in for a closer look.
Butch slid the card into a slot concealed in the low metal rail running along the path. A second later, the earth opened up and an elevator rose silently out of the ground. Butch opened the door and stepped inside with Luther. The door slid closed and the elevator disappeared back into the ground as if it had never been there.
Marty cursed. He was so stunned to see the elevator appear out of nowhere that he didn’t even think about flying the dragonspy inside with them. He checked Luther’s tracking tag. It dropped sixty feet, then stopped. The tag started to move to the west quickly. Marty stared down at the Gizmo screen. Ten miles an hour … Fifteen miles an hour …
Butch sure isn’t sprinting with Luther over his shoulder. No one’s that fast. They’re in some kind of vehicle. The blinking icon came to a stop a quarter mile away. Marty watched for a full five minutes. It didn’t move.
• • •
Dylan was in North America in front of the mountain lion exhibit when Marty called.
“What’s happening?”
“We have a problem,” Marty answered.
“Don’t tell me Luther is hungry again.”
“Luther’s been kidnapped.”
Dylan wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly, but there weren’t too many words that sounded like kidnapped . In fact, there were none he could think of.
“By who?” he asked.
“Butch McCall.”
“He recognized him?”
“I guess.”
Dylan found that hard to believe. The Luther that had gone into his bedroom looked nothing like the Luther that had come out.
“How long ago?”
“Five minutes.”
Dylan had dropped off the two hot dogs not ten minutes earlier.
“Where?”
“South America.”
“Where are you?”
“Hiding in a restroom between Africa and South America.”
“Butch saw you, too?”
“No, but there are cameras everywhere. I watched Butch grab Luther with the dragonspy. Before he took him underground, he asked him where I was.”
“Underground?”
Dylan listened as Marty explained what he had seen. He had wondered where all the holding areas, service roads, and zookeepers were.
“We should call the police,” Dylan said.
Marty laughed. “What a joke. They aren’t going to take our word over Noah Blackwood’s. We’d just be tipping our hand. He’ll move Grace out of here. Who knows what he’d do to Luther. He’s certainly not going to let him blab about being kidnapped.”
“Wolfe?” Dylan asked.
“He’s on his way to DC.”
“We should call Ted, then.”
“I already tried. His tag doesn’t even show up on the Gizmo.”
“What do you want to do?” Dylan asked, but he already knew the answer.
Marty flew the
“You got a big mouth,” Butch said.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
“Where’s your friend Marty?”
“Who?”
“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Butch reached into his pocket with his free hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him, Luther.”
“My name isn’t Luther.”
Butch plunged something into Luther’s arm.
“Ouch!”
“Good night, Luther Smyth.”
“Huh? You’re craz …”
As Marty watched the Gizmo’s screen, helpless, Luther’s eyes rolled up in his head. Butch caught him as he slumped to the ground, threw him over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and started walking down the path.
Marty slammed open the stall door, ready to run to South America and save his friend, but he only took a couple of steps before stopping.
By the time I get down there, Butch will be gone. If I startrunning through the Ark like a maniac, the cameras will pick me up and I’ll be captured, too. What good would that do?
He looked again at the video stream. Butch had stopped in the middle of the path between South America and Antarctica, with Luther still slung over his shoulder like a corpse. Butch glanced up and down the path, then reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a credit card.
What’s he doing?
Marty zoomed the dragonspy camera in for a closer look.
Butch slid the card into a slot concealed in the low metal rail running along the path. A second later, the earth opened up and an elevator rose silently out of the ground. Butch opened the door and stepped inside with Luther. The door slid closed and the elevator disappeared back into the ground as if it had never been there.
Marty cursed. He was so stunned to see the elevator appear out of nowhere that he didn’t even think about flying the dragonspy inside with them. He checked Luther’s tracking tag. It dropped sixty feet, then stopped. The tag started to move to the west quickly. Marty stared down at the Gizmo screen. Ten miles an hour … Fifteen miles an hour …
Butch sure isn’t sprinting with Luther over his shoulder. No one’s that fast. They’re in some kind of vehicle. The blinking icon came to a stop a quarter mile away. Marty watched for a full five minutes. It didn’t move.
• • •
Dylan was in North America in front of the mountain lion exhibit when Marty called.
“What’s happening?”
“We have a problem,” Marty answered.
“Don’t tell me Luther is hungry again.”
“Luther’s been kidnapped.”
Dylan wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly, but there weren’t too many words that sounded like kidnapped . In fact, there were none he could think of.
“By who?” he asked.
“Butch McCall.”
“He recognized him?”
“I guess.”
Dylan found that hard to believe. The Luther that had gone into his bedroom looked nothing like the Luther that had come out.
“How long ago?”
“Five minutes.”
Dylan had dropped off the two hot dogs not ten minutes earlier.
“Where?”
“South America.”
“Where are you?”
“Hiding in a restroom between Africa and South America.”
“Butch saw you, too?”
“No, but there are cameras everywhere. I watched Butch grab Luther with the dragonspy. Before he took him underground, he asked him where I was.”
“Underground?”
Dylan listened as Marty explained what he had seen. He had wondered where all the holding areas, service roads, and zookeepers were.
“We should call the police,” Dylan said.
Marty laughed. “What a joke. They aren’t going to take our word over Noah Blackwood’s. We’d just be tipping our hand. He’ll move Grace out of here. Who knows what he’d do to Luther. He’s certainly not going to let him blab about being kidnapped.”
“Wolfe?” Dylan asked.
“He’s on his way to DC.”
“We should call Ted, then.”
“I already tried. His tag doesn’t even show up on the Gizmo.”
“What do you want to do?” Dylan asked, but he already knew the answer.
Marty flew the
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