Independent Study

The snake’s head whips toward the sound vibrations. Its body uncoils. The wood skips off the rail and plunges below. Scales scrape against tree bark as the snake lunges toward the rail, and I act. I dart forward, grab Damone’s arm, and pull. Damone stumbles and kicks a rock across the path. The snake changes course, but I don’t. I dig my fingers into Damone’s wrist and half drag, half pull him as I run. Thank goodness the fear that rendered Damone immobile now propels his legs forward. His feet keep pace with mine as they pound the rocky ground. The path narrows near the door. I let Damone streak by me to what I hope will be safety.

That’s when I hear the hiss. If it can be called a hiss. More a growl like the ones the wolves that lurk outside the Five Lakes borders make. The sound tingles down my spine, raises the hair on the back of my neck, and urges me forward. When my feet cross the threshold, I glance back and see a streak of copper and gold moving fast. Black eyes focused on me. Metallic and black scales flared on either side of the snake’s neck, forming what looks like a hood. The mouth opens. A scream rips from my throat as a thick metal door screeches and slams between us.

I double over and try to catch my breath. The rasp of labored breathing and the muted growl from the other side of the door are the only sounds. Finally, a beam of light cuts through the darkness.

“I’m glad the hinges on that door still work,” Will says.

Hysteria bubbles up and out of my lips. “You’re glad?”

Will grins. Damone looks at us like we’re both crazy, which makes me laugh harder. I can’t help it. I’m happy to be alive.

Still laughing, I take the flashlight from Will, sling the bags onto my shoulder, and say, “How about we find the exit out of here?”

The hallway is long, with a high ceiling, and is wide enough for the three of us to walk side by side. The walls are lined with faded photographs of animals. Chimpanzees. Orangutans. Monkeys. Gorillas. I’m pleased to know I was right about the former inhabitants of this structure, but I can’t help wondering what happened to the animals when the world collapsed.

“Wait. Do you hear that?” I c**k my head to the side. There. The sound is louder this time. Someone is yelling my name, and relief streaks through me as I recognize the voice.

“Enzo,” Will says, shooting a grin at Damone. “I guess not everyone at the University believes getting ahead is more important than real leadership.”

Using Enzo’s voice as a guide, we creep down the long hallway. As much as we want to hurry, we force ourselves to go slow. To watch for things that might be lurking in the shadows. We don’t want to face another situation like the one we just escaped. We go through a door on the left. Another large hall. More faded placards and photos of animals. Signs about eating habits. Behavior. Anatomy. Signs of a past society that caged animals for amusement and education.

Enzo’s voice gets louder. Closer. I smell fresh air. The idea of freedom propels us faster. We take another left turn and see an open doorway. Sunlight. And Enzo standing near the threshold, looking relieved to see us. No more cages or synthetic trees. Freedom.

I want to sit on the ground and appreciate the moment, but we’ve already lost a great deal of time. Other teams have probably found the “nest.” We have to get moving if we’re to have a chance at winning. While the others might believe this is only a game created by the final-year students, I know better.

The good news is that our most recent adventure has given me an idea of where we need to go to find the first task. Handing the flashlight back to a curious Enzo, I say, “We’ll fill you in on what happened while we walk. We can’t fall too far behind if we want to come in first.”

As we head down the path, Will gives Enzo a rundown on the events that occurred inside the former monkey house. I let Will tell the story as I walk in front of the group, looking for anything that will give me a clue which direction we should go in. Enzo asks dozens of questions. Especially about the snake. Enzo thinks Will is exaggerating the reptile’s size, which isn’t surprising since Will tends to overdramatize.

I’m about to say that when Damone speaks for the first time since we saw the animal. “Will’s telling the truth. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Damone stops walking. “How could the final years drop us in a place with a thing like that? How could the professors let them? They said this was supposed to be fun, but they could have killed us.”

“I don’t think the final years knew the snake was in that building,” I say. “The snake probably got in through the roof after they set up their trap in the cage.”

Will nods. “We have a lot of snakes in Madison Colony. They’re always sliding into places without anyone seeing them. My mom found a six-foot snake in her closet, curled around a pair of her shoes. No one knows how it got in. Dad used my brother’s crossbow to get it out.”

The mention of the crossbow makes me flinch. Suddenly, I’m somewhere else. A bridge with a crossbow quarrel soaring through the air toward me. Then the image is gone.

Damone folds his arms across his chest. Though his stance is belligerent, I can see the fear lurking in his eyes. Rubbing my temples, I say, “This area hasn’t been revitalized yet, which means we should keep our eyes open for tracks or droppings and steer clear if we can. If we’re lucky, the next location will be somewhere snakes aren’t interested in calling home. Of course, to figure that out, we have to find the location. And I think I might have an idea where we need to go.”

“Where?” Enzo asks as I turn and walk down the path.

I step over a large broken branch. “My father has a lot of books on animal biology. His team uses them when they’re working on genetic modifications in some of our farm stock, but the books include information on all kinds of animals, including their behaviors. Behaviors like nesting.” Even though I never wanted to go into biological engineering, I flipped through each book, devouring the pictures and the words, fascinated with the idea that, somewhere, some of these creatures might still walk the earth.

“We already decided we’re looking for a bird’s nest,” Damone says.

“Birds aren’t the only animals that build nests,” I say. “I don’t think the final years would make the answer to this puzzle so easy. Do you?”

Will smiles. “Not for a minute. Which means the silver treasure is something we normally wouldn’t think of. Something like a lion or a tiger.”

“Or a gorilla.” Enzo looks at me, and I nod.

“Silverback gorillas. I thought of them when I saw the writing on the walls of the building we were in. I don’t know if this place used to house gorillas, but if it did, I’m pretty sure we’ll find whatever it is we’re supposed to be looking for there.”

The path curves to the left. We pass more trees, a couple of rotting benches, and areas that must have once been used to display animals. I spot a faded sign lying in front of one of the areas; it pictures an animal with a long neck. This must have been the section where they kept giraffes. The next pen doesn’t have a sign, but farther down, we find another placard covered in dirt. When Will scrapes away the grime, there’s a picture of an elephant.

We walk by the broken fences and walls, looking at signs. Lions. Baboons. Zebras. Animals we have heard of but never seen. There are also pictures of animals we can’t put names to. The path circles to the right. More animal pens. More less than healthy trees. Decayed buildings that none of us wish to venture near in case more traps are set. Somewhere in the distance, we hear a shout. Of dismay? Triumph? The only thing we can be sure of is that at least one other team is nearby.

We’re about to follow the path to the right when Enzo spots a large sign on a collapsed fence to our left. The picture and words are faded, but despite time and dirt, we can see the letters: D NI GOR LA FOR ST. No one has a clue what the first word could be, but we all think it’s a good bet the final two are gorilla forest.

The path to the left curves in between the broken walls of two buildings. The single-story stone structure on the right still stands, although the way the walls are slanted makes me think it won’t be upright for long. To our left is a cone-shaped roof sitting atop a pile of splintered wood and broken rock. We pass between them, scramble over a fallen tree that is blocking the path, and come to a long suspension bridge that stretches over a river. On the other side is a mostly intact structure surrounded by a tall stone fence. Unlike the rest of the zoo, the bridge is in good repair. Strong metal cables. Thick wooden planks. Rope railings on either side.

Will looks at the bridge and back at me. “What do you think?”

I put my hand on the rope railing and push down to test its strength. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure we could get to the other side.”

“Probably the same people who set the trap in the monkey cage.” Will cautiously places a foot onto the bridge. “Let’s hope I don’t end up dangling from my ankles this time.”

Will takes several steps and then jumps up and down. When the bridge holds, the rest of us follow. The water below is a murky brown. Contaminated, but probably drinkable if we get desperate. I hope we finish this part of the Induction task and move on before we have to test that out.

We reach the end of the suspension bridge and hear voices. Several of them. Beyond the stone fence. And though I can’t make out the words, I understand the tone. At least one team is still in the zoo, and whoever they are, they aren’t happy.

I scale a tree next to the wall and peer over. The area behind the fence is filled with rocks, leafless trees, and gray dirt. The lack of grass and the condition of the trees speak of more severe contamination. The final years must have picked this location for that reason. Knowing we have to finish this task quickly or risk illness adds to the pressure we’ll be working under. Standing near one of the trees are Griffin, Raffe, and their two other team members. Griffin’s eyes are narrowed and his mouth curled in a snarl as he shouts something at the only girl on their team. He stands at least six inches taller, but the girl doesn’t shrink from the confrontation. Instead, she points to a large wooden chest on the ground and shouts back. The chest is marked with a large white 1. Three more dark brown trunks marked with the numbers 2 through 4 sit nearby.

“This is the place,” I say, and hoist myself up to the top of the wall. Griffin’s team goes silent as my feet hit the ground. They say nothing as, one by one, my teammates jump down. Together, we cross to the chest marked 3. When I nod at Enzo, he flips the lid open. Inside is another, smaller trunk. Sitting on top of that trunk is a gray envelope. Enzo hands me the envelope. I open it, slide out a folded piece of paper, and read. “Complete the puzzle to receive your team’s marker and the clue to the next location.”

Enzo flips the lid on the next trunk and we peer inside. A small metal box. On the side of the box is a keypad. Next to the box is a piece of paper with instructions that read Input the answers to the questions into the keypad to unlock the box. Answer carefully. A wrong answer will result in a sixty-minute time penalty before your team can attempt to answer again. Try not to be wrong twice.

I glance at Griffin’s team, who watch us from the little shade they find under a barren tree. They must have answered the question wrong and are now waiting for their chance to try again. And each second they wait, they increase their exposure to the contaminants that twist the trees and turn even the clover a sickly yellow. I wonder if they realize the danger. Growing up in the revitalized city might have made them less aware of the signs of chemical corruption. I consider warning them, but my team has already begun to work on the task: a physics problem in three parts.

The first part asks the time it takes for a stone thrown horizontally to hit the ground if thrown at a rate of 5 meters per second from a cliff 67.4 meters high. Part two wants to know the distance the stone will land from the base of the cliff. The last question asks us to calculate the stone’s final velocity, both magnitude and direction, when it hits the ground.

We ignore the four sets of eyes staring sullenly at us, and using sticks for pencils and the ground to write on, we get to work. Immediately, it is clear advanced physics is not Will’s or Damone’s strongest subject. Still, they check and double-check Enzo’s and my answers until all four of us agree. While the answers weren’t easy, the trickiest part is how to type them into the keyboard. Should our answers use abbreviations for meters per second, or should we spell out entire words? The wrong choice will mean keeping Griffin and his team company until we are allowed to try again.

Since all of our teachers have always used abbreviations in class, we opt to use them now. Enzo quietly reads the answers aloud, and I punch them in on the keyboard. When all three answers have been given, I hold my breath and press Enter.

There is a click and the box opens. Will and Enzo exchange high-fives. Damone stands off to the side and smiles at Griffin and company as I remove a gray envelope and a red disk marked with the number 3 from the box. Glancing at the other team, I suggest we wait to read the next clue until we are alone. When no one objects, I slide both objects into my University bag and head back to the stone wall.

Will gives Enzo a boost and then scrambles over the wall. As Damone hoists himself up, I hear the sound of a bell. Griffin and his team are hurrying back to their box. Their time penalty must have come to an end.

My fingers cling to rock. My feet propel me upward. I am about to swing my leg over the top of the wall when Griffin shouts. I look over my shoulder in time to see a flash of light. Surprise loosens my grip as something explodes.

Chapter 8

HITTING THE GROUND knocks the air from my lungs. Struggling to breathe, I roll to my side and peer through a haze of smoke toward the screams coming from behind me. Something is on fire.