Driven (31 page)

E
xactly four weeks had passed since Krogan and Sabah had been imprisoned. With the cooler weather, sugar maple leaves and kids’
cheeks were beginning to blush. Gavin and Amy were walking the winding pathways of the Bronx Zoo. The last time Gavin had
been here was with his grampa. Such fond memories now came with a price: the more cherished the moment, the deeper the pain
…

Amy squeezed his hand, mercifully bringing him back to the present—back to their Sunday walk, back to excited children pointing
at the lazy lions and asking for giant New York pretzels. Somehow she had known he needed to be comforted. It was a sensitivity
she was allowing to grow as their time together increased.

Gavin returned the hand squeeze, trying not to dwell on the past, seeking rather to refocus on the present and future. That
was becoming easier to do with Amy around.

“Excuse me,” Amy said to three teenage boys passing by.

The three stopped, gawking at the beautiful woman before them. From the looks on their faces, they would do whatever she wanted.

“Could you take a picture or two of us?” she said sweetly, pulling a strapped camera from Gavin’s neck.

“Sure, yeah, yeah,” came a chorus of agreements.

Amy handed the camera to one of them and after a brief instruction pulled Gavin in front of a nearby statue of a rhino.

“We shouldn’t get too far away from them, Amy. That camera isn’t cheap.”

“Then we’ll run them down and arrest them.”

“
You’ll
run them down.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Amy said, then pulled his face to hers and gave him a kiss he was sure would melt the film. The kids
catcalled and guffawed as they took the picture and returned the camera. One of them gave Gavin a big thumbs-up. Amy laughed
at Gavin’s expression.

“At least we’ve given them something to talk about,” she said as the boys walked on, giggling and pushing at each other.

“Dream about, is more like it,” Gavin replied as he opened and studied the zoo map that had been handed to them at the entrance
gate. They had just passed the sea lion pool and the big cat cages were now to their right. Lions and tigers and leopards
and panthers usually impressed Gavin. Not today. Yes, they were beautiful animals. Yes, it was Sunday—his and Amy’s day off.
Yes, the weather was perfect and just ahead to the left, the zoo was showing off their prize possession: a zoo-bred baby elephant
and its mother. But, no, he wasn’t interested. Today was business.

“Oh, Gavin, the children’s zoo is still open. Next week it’ll be closed until April,” Amy said cheerfully, tugging on his
arm.

“First, the reptile house,” he said. “Business before pleasure.”

Amy pouted. “But the baby goats.”

“Amy—”

“Pleeeeease?”

“I suppose, seeing it’s on the way,” he said. Amy was the one doing the asking and he was the one giving the permission, but
there was no mystery as to who was in charge here. In spite of himself Gavin smiled. He’d been doing a lot more of that lately.
In the last few weeks
he had seen Amy every day and he was planning on continuing to do so. He didn’t want to think about a future without her.

The children’s zoo was self-contained within the main zoo, surrounded on all sides by a tall, wooden fence decorated with
plywood cutouts of foxes, iguanas, raccoons, and other cute animals, each one a different color. Out in front sat a small
cedar shack with a metal corrugated roof and a bunny-shaped sign that read “Photos.” As Gavin and Amy rounded the shack, a
couple of service trucks came into view. Several men were working on an open section of the tall fence. A park attendant met
them as they walked up.

“Sorry folks, this exhibit is closed today.”

“Closed? Why?” Amy said, disappointed.

“Some small repairs. It’ll be open again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow’s Monday. We work tomorrow.”

“And he’s working today,” Gavin said. With an apologetic look at the attendant, he put his arm around Amy’s shoulder and steered
her back to the path, stopping at an intersection a few feet away to read a sign post with arrows pointing in every direction.

“Wild Area… North America… Africa… World of Darkness… Snow Leopards… Ah, reptiles. That-a-way.” He pointed left.

“Little do they know the Reptile House is the
real
World of Darkness,” Amy said.

Gavin found no humor in what she’d said. He’d had the exact same thought just before Amy said it.

“Look, a live rhino,”Amy said, tugging Gavin toward a nearby pen.

“On the way back, Amy. First things first.”

“Oh, wait! I have to have a pretzel.” She again detoured Gavin, dragging him to the edge of the path, where a green-and-white
concession stand on wheels was parked.

“A pretzel? They’re the size of a pizza. We just ate breakfast an hour ago.”

“But we didn’t stay for dessert.”

“With breakfast?”

“It’s my day off. If I want dessert with my—”

“Okay, okay! Have two.”

No sooner had Amy taken possession of her monster pretzel than she pointed to yet another exhibit.

“Look! The Mouse House.”

“Later.”

She sighed and continued on with Gavin. According to the map the Reptile House was in the middle of the zoo, just around the
next turn in the path. As they rounded the gradual curve, the side of the building emerged through the heavy brush and trees.

“There it is” Amy said.

“Yeah, right where the map said it would be. How ’bout that?”

“Looks creepy,” Amy said.

It did look a little creepy, with ivy growing all over the old brick walls. Gavin didn’t know the history of the zoo or what
buildings had been around the longest, but he guessed this was by far the oldest. “Reptiles” was carved into a stone beam
held up by two columns over a very dark entrance. There was no light visible beyond the doors and the building would have
looked closed except for the occasional traffic in and out.

“Gavin, the gorillas and apes—over there,” Amy said, pointing and pulling with baffling enthusiasm. Against his will Gavin
took three steps toward the ape building on the other side of the path before stopping.

“What’s going on, Amy?”

Amy’s magnetic green eyes lost some of their shine as she looked over Gavin’s shoulder toward the Reptile House, then back
to Gavin. “I… I don’t want to go in there,” she whispered, then drew closer and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I
don’t want it to see me. I want it to forget me.”

Gavin sighed as he embraced her, slowly massaging her back. He warmly slid his hands up to her shoulders and held her at arm’s
length.

She looked down. “I’m sorry.”

He took her hand and led her to a long green bench just outside the Reptile House entrance. As they sat down, a half dozen
pigeons waddled indignantly away. Amy still hadn’t taken a bite from her pretzel; the pigeons would be the likely beneficiaries
if they were patient.

“Wait here,” he said. “I have to see it. I have to know it’s there— know it’s… secure.” And, he added to himself, he wanted
the demon to remember him.

Amy nodded and gave a weak but reassuring smile.

Gavin exhaled and got up. He walked up to the entrance, paused and exhaled again, then pushed on the dark glass door. Sensing
someone behind him, he held the door.

“Thank you,” Amy said.

“What are you—”

“Suppose you didn’t come back out?”

Gavin shook his head. “I think, after all this, seeing the tortoise is going to be a bit anticlimactic.”

“Let’s hope so,” she said, taking his hand. Gavin noticed she no longer had the pretzel. The pigeons had probably already
teamed up to pull it into the bushes.

He led the way through an old, painted turnstile into a dark and gloomy corridor. The little light available spilled in through
a large viewing window to their right. The deep jungle habitat on the other side of the glass wouldn’t be for the tortoise.
Curled up on a limb under leafy foliage was a huge snake. According to the sign on the window it was a twenty-four-foot python.
Gavin was glad it was on the other side of the thick glass. He wasn’t fond of snakes and thought this one looked like it would
have made an appropriately scary home for Krogan—better than a boring tortoise, at least.

“Gavin!” Amy said, pointing to an area where the hall widened to a dim, but better lit, room thanks to a large greenhouse
extension. On the floor before the greenhouse, in the midst of wandering tourists, were two giant bronzed tortoises. With
Gavin in tow, she stepped around an elderly man in a zoo attendant’s uniform and peered into the beachlike setting within
the greenhouse, hoping the statues were advertisements for the real thing.

No. Even before they got to the safety rail they could see the crocodiles, their massive bodies submerged in a clear, simulated
pond with only the top half of their prehistoric heads afloat. Looking at them, Gavin wondered how Krogan would have liked
spending a lifetime in one of them. Probably too much, he decided, noting the massive teeth lining the crocodiles’ mouths.
He looked back at the bronze statutes behind them and shook his head. He was just going to have to trust Buck on the tortoise
thing.

Following the flow of traffic, they entered into a second hallway as dimly lighted as the first. Dozens of smaller windows
revealed what the planet had to offer in the way of lizards, frogs, and finally turtles. A large window just ahead held the
attention of several spectators. Gavin paused. Amy held his left arm in a vise grip with both her hands, also looking at the
large window.

Several viewers moved away. The empty space created a vacuum that drew Gavin and Amy in.

“Huh?” Amy said.

A small sign on the window noted that the exhibit held an Alligator Snapping Turtle. In another fake pond swam a turtle the
size of a guitar case with a spiked shell and parrotlike beak that could chomp off a man’s leg.

“So where are the freaking tortoises?” Gavin whispered angrily. Uncertain of where to go, he remembered the attendant. “Come
on,” he said, pulling Amy toward the old man.

“Excuse me.”

The attendant’s eyebrows raised above the rim of his bifocal glasses. “Yes?”

“I thought the tortoises would be in with the reptiles, but I don’t see them here. Where are they kept?”

“Half of the year they are in here, but in warmer weather they’re kept at the children’s zoo. The kids love them and the sun
and fresh air is good for the tortoises.”

“But the children’s zoo is closed.”

“Well, yes, that’s true,” the man replied. “We had a little accident last night,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Accident?” Gavin said, a knot tightening in his gut.

“The man told us they were just doing a little repair work,” said Amy.

“Well,” the man whispered, scratching an ear with his index finger. “One of the maintenance crew guys accidentally drove through
the fence with a dump truck after hours.”

“Was he drunk?” Gavin blurted.

The attendant’s surprise, followed by a nervous scratch of the neck, gave Gavin his answer.

“Was anyone hurt?” Amy asked.

“No, nobody was hurt. Well, I shouldn’t say nobody. Around here, animals are people, too. One of our young tortoises was killed
in the crash. Little guy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Gavin could feel Amy’s fingernails digging into his arm.

“Jeremy?” he asked.

The attendant looked over his bifocals. “You know Jeremy?”

Gavin couldn’t speak or even nod. His knees were suddenly weak. Amy leaned against him for support.

The attendant shook his head somberly. “It’s somethin’, how that tortoise went bad.”

“Bad?” Amy said.

“Oh, yeah! One day just like any other tortoise. The next, mean, aggressive… That’s why they had to separate him from the
others.”

“And that’s why he got killed?” Gavin asked.

“No, that’s why he lived.”

“He’s alive?” Gavin and Amy blurted out in unison.

“Yeah, Franklin’s the tortoise that died. Jeremy had been removed to the adjoining pen just a few hours before the accident.
He was biting the others, you see. Funny, though… If the accident’d happened a few hours before or later, Jeremy probably
would’ve been killed, too. He was digging his way back in.”

Gavin looked at Amy, who looked back at him in horror.

“Can we see him?” Gavin said.

“Oh, I’m afraid that’s impossible until the children’s zoo reopens. He’s confined indoors until then.”

“Isn’t there a safer place for him? Maybe you people could—”

“I wouldn’t worry, sir. There’s never been an incident like this before and, believe me, it won’t happen again.”

“Right,” Gavin said. “Look, my, uh, girlfriend here is the worrying type,” he said motioning toward Amy, whose eyes had widened
at the introduction. “And I wouldn’t mind getting involved in the cost of a safer pen with, maybe, concrete walls and a deep
foundation.”

The attendant frowned in confusion. “Sir, I can assure you that—”

“Who would we talk to about this?”

The man looked at him suspiciously, then shrugged. “Zoo management.”

“And where would we find them?” Gavin said.

O
N THEIR WAY
to the administration building, Gavin flipped open his phone and dialed.

“Samantha’s Farm.”

“Buck? Gavin. We’ve got a problem,” he said, then explained what had happened. “I think you’re going to have to come up with
a Plan B.”

“This
is
Plan B,” Buck said.

“Then what’s Plan A?”

“What it’s always been: prayer. I suppose you think it’s just a coincidence Jeremy is still alive?”

Gavin took the phone away from his ear and frowned at it as if it embodied the voice it was delivering.

Amy tugged on Gavin’s left arm. “What did he say?”

Gavin held up a finger, then returned the phone to his mouth. “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve been praying for the
turt— tortoise’s safety, and that’s why it survived?”