Free Terror at the Zoo by Peg Kehret

and grip it.
    She removed her other shoe the same way and then, feeling like one of the monkeys, she began to climb. One hand up, one foot up. Next hand. Next foot. Although she knew she must hurry, she climbed cautiously. Even without her shoes, it was difficult to get a solid grip. Twice, one foot slipped out of the wire but she was able to hold on with the other until she could regain her balance.
    Reaching above her head, she felt the top of the fence. She was almost there. Going down wouldn’t be so hard. She could let her feet slide down the other side of the fence and just hang on with her hands. All she had to do was make it over the top.
    She grasped the top tightly with both hands and pulled herself up. She swung her left leg up and crooked her knee over the top. Her leg hit barbed wire.
    She reached out, feeling gingerly with her hand. From the top of the fence, three strands of barbed wire angled out toward the parking lot. The cuff of her jeans was caught on the first strand. She tugged. It held fast.
    There was no way she would be able to climb over barbed wire. She tried to kick her left leg free. Her fingers ached, from hanging on to the fence. She kicked again. And again. A piece of barbed wire pierced her sock and cut her ankle.
    She gave another furious kick. She heard the sound of her jeans tearing and tried to stop in midkick but it was too late. As the material gave way, she lost her balance and fell.
    She clutched frantically at the wire as she fell, trying to grab on and stop herself. Her fingers slid too fast; her hands bumped helplessly down the fence and she thudded to the ground.
    As she started to sit up, a sharp pain shot through her left shoulder. She lay back down and waited for the pain to subside.
    Tears stung her eyes as she lay huddled at the bottom of the fence. She wasn’t going to make it over the top.
    Gently, she poked her shoulder and winced at the touch of her fingers. A broken collarbone? Bad bruise? She wasn’t sure what was wrong but she knew it hurt. Her scratched ankle hurt, too. She would probably have to get a tetanus shot tomorrow, on top of everything else. Then she felt guilty for feeling sorry for herself when Corey was being held hostage.
    She did not try to scale the fence again. It wouldn’t do Corey any good if she fell off the fence and killed herself. She would have to get help some other way.
    She found her shoes and put them back on. Then, holding her left arm close to her side and trying not to move it, she started back along the path toward the Nocturnal House.
    How long had she been gone? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Were the man and Corey still in the Nocturnal House? She didn’t turn on her flashlight, for fear the man was nearby and would see her.
    As she walked, she tried to think. Where was the security guard? Had something happened to him? Or was he somewhere on the zoo grounds, able to help her and Corey if he knew they needed it? How could she reach him?
    There had to be other telephones somewhere. Where? She couldn’t stumble around the zoo in the dark all night, hunting for a telephone. Corey needed help fast.
    When she got back to the Nocturnal House, she eased open the door again and listened. Silence. Ellen’s throat felt tight. They had left. The man had taken Corey somewhere and now she would never find him again.
    Just as she let go of the door, she heard a slight sniffling noise. She recognized it immediately as the sound Corey always made when his allergies acted up or when he had been crying. She could almost hear her mother saying, “Corey, stop that sniffling. If your nose is running, get a tissue.”
    They were still inside. Maybe the man was hiding, unsure how many people were looking for Corey.
    She tiptoed a few feet away from the Nocturnal House, where she wouldn’t be seen if the man decided to leave. Quickly, she figured out a plan.
    She would yell out, as if she were calling to other people, that she had found Corey. She would make