THEIR EYES ADJUSTING as they climbed up the small ramp and out of the open hatch, Finn and Jez beheld an intimidating sight. The upper tiger yard was a large enclosure, an open expanse of sloping green grass surrounded by fifteen-foot-high walls. The enclosure’s boundaries were broken by bamboo trees, wild grasses, and jungle shrubs. In the shade to their left, and just coming to her feet, was an enormous tigress, six feet from shoulders to tail with a huge head, and paws the size of oven mitts. She glanced back at them with her amber eyes and let out a thunderous growl—they were intruders and she didn’t appreciate being awakened from her nap.

Directly ahead of them, coming over the crest of the small rise, were two more tigers—barreling toward Finn and Jez at full speed and, to the right of the yard, a half dozen monkeys and four large orangutans were also charging. The number of wild animals, as well as their combined ferocity, every twitch of muscle aimed directly at Finn and Jez, froze the kids. They stood absolutely still, which was a good thing.

Then Finn spotted the ivy creeping along the right wall—just behind the gang of monkeys. Charlene.

“Finn?” a terrified Jez said, her voice breaking.

“No fear,” Finn whispered. He had tried to cross over on his way out of the hatch, but his excitement had prevented it. He didn’t want Jez to know this, so he spoke with authority.

“Move to your right,” he said. “Stay close to the wall.”

“But the monkeys!” she said.

“I know.”

A hollow growl reverberated from behind them: another tiger, this one coming through the tunnel from the lower yard.

Finn picked up a stick and stepped forward, putting himself between the charging monkeys and Jez. The two center tigers continued their advance, while the one in the shade to the left had spun fully around to face the hatch. If he didn’t do something quickly, he and Jez were going to be animal crackers—a late afternoon snack.

“Go!” he said.

Jez took off along the wall at a run.

Finn attacked the line of advancing monkeys and apes, swinging the stick like a baseball bat. The monkeys skidded to a stop, forming a semicircle around him. He saw a flash in the eyes of one of the orangutans: the ape had spotted Jez fleeing along the wall. He chose this ape to go after, chanting under his breath: Nothing can hurt me.

He charged the orangutan, swung the stick, and forced the ape to dance backward, out of the way of contact. In doing so, the orangutan left a small gap between him and the ape to his side. It was just big enough for Finn to squeeze through. He ran forward and shot the gap. The ape turned.

This offered Jez the opportunity to run even harder, quickly moving along the wall toward the slowly advancing Charlene, who, posing as DeVine, was high atop her stilts.

The large cat to the left stepped out of the shadows, her strides calculated and controlled: she was hunting. If not Finn, any one of the monkeys would make a worthwhile snack.

The monkeys saw the cat as well, their hackles raised in alarm.

Finn was facing the wall of monkeys as the second cat climbed up and out of the tunnel. He glanced over his shoulder: the other two cats would arrive at any moment.

He’d done a fine job of pulling attention away from Jez, but his own situation was far more tentative. If he didn’t think of something quickly, his lone stick was not going to be enough to defend himself.

He held the stick high overhead and cried out loudly in a war cry.

“Go ahead, try it!” he shouted, watching Jez continue her progress. But the monkeys grew daring, tightening the circle around Finn.

Preparing to strike.