In the distance, thunder growls, long and low and not giving up. Reminds me of my stomach, pre-breakfast.
I test the air. Weird. Something isn’t right.
“Julia!” It’s George, rushing over. “Hurry up! You need to get inside.”
George has an odd scent, like he’s on guard. I’ve only smelled it a few times on him.
I look up. The clouds have turned strange shades of green and yellow and gray, clustered together like rows of fat marshmallows. It’s so ugly it’s beautiful. I can’t stop looking.
The air goes still, like a cat before it leaps on its prey.
Kinyani and Ivan and Kudzoo are racing toward the gorilla villa.
A fat raindrop hits my nose. It tastes wrong. How can rain taste dangerous?
People are yelling, running. Opening umbrellas. Covering their heads with maps of the park.
More drops.
At the far end of the field, I can just make out Akello herding Ruby along.
Another drop. A dry one. Like a pebble.
“Hail,” George says. “Julia. Now.” He grabs her hand.
Rumbling. The sky boils and swirls.
“Bob!” Julia calls. “Come on!”
I move to leap off my perch. To run to Julia.
I’ve done it a thousand times. But this time, I lose my footing.
I never slip. I am as nimble as Nutwit.
But the rain, the hail.
I let out a yelp as I land on Ivan’s side of the wall, splat in the mud.
“Bob!” Julia screams.
“He’ll be okay,” George says.
I can smell Julia’s fear, and George’s doubt, as he drags her away.