Bernie was back in the box.

He fidgeted and squirmed as the buggy sped out of the garage towards the jungle. Right after breakfast, as his mother went off to work, Ivy had come to get him. How had he let her talk him into this? Was his desire to stay on the island jeopardising his mother’s job and putting her future at risk?

The buggy went over a bump and he slammed into the side. Deja vu, he thought. A few minutes later, the vehicle came to a stop and Ivy opened up his box. They were now far enough into the jungle to not be visible from the centre. They continued the rest of the way with him in the passenger seat.

Soon they were getting out and cautiously approaching the ditch.

‘The site was investigated yesterday afternoon,’ explained Ivy. ‘So there shouldn’t be anyone around this morning.’

‘You really think we can find something that everyone else missed?’ asked Bernie as he clambered down, doing his best to avoid getting his new T-shirt dirty.

‘I know it’s kinda clutching at straws,’ said Ivy. ‘But we’ve got to try.’

They found the paw prints and crouched down to examine them.

‘Look at this.’ Ivy pointed to a hollow in the soft earth, right next to where the prints started. ‘This is where that thing was yesterday.’

‘The paw prints lead away from it,’ said Bernie. ‘Could it have been some sort of egg?’

‘Maybe.’

They followed the prints and looked up at the tree they stopped in front of. There were distinct claw marks on the trunk.

A screeching sound came from somewhere above, making them jump. Then they heard something drop to the ground behind them. They whirled around just in time to catch a glimpse of brownish-grey fur disappearing into the undergrowth.

‘What was that?’ gasped Bernie.

Ivy stepped forward and examined the new set of impressions leading into the bushes. ‘Large, clawed koala prints. Loads of screeching. Dropping from the trees.’ She looked back at Bernie. ‘Drop bear?’

‘Drop bears were invented as a joke to scare tourists,’ insisted Bernie. ‘They don’t exist.’

‘Yeah, well,’ said Ivy. ‘Dinosaurs with opposable thumbs don’t exist either.’

‘Good point,’ agreed Bernie. ‘So . . . drop bear. Sharp claws. Big teeth. Vicious. Do we try to follow it?’

‘Well –’

They were interrupted by a distant buzzing.

‘A drone?’ asked Bernie.

‘Most likely,’ answered Ivy. ‘Better get down. We don’t want to be spotted.’

The two of them dropped to the ground. Mushrooms, noted Bernie, looking around. They seemed to be everywhere.

‘I didn’t think they’d send any more drones out here,’ said Ivy. She crawled forward, under the bushes, and peered up. Bernie did the same, crushing some of the mushrooms as he went.

‘That’s impossible!’ Ivy’s voice was a harsh whisper.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Bernie.

‘That’s not one of ours,’ hissed Ivy.

‘How do you know?’ Bernie squinted as he stared up at the drone, only just visible above the canopy. It looked pretty much like the drone he had seen yesterday, chasing the toad.

‘It’s kind of chunkier. And it doesn’t have a MeierCorp logo,’ she answered. ‘Dad puts his logos on everything! It’s on the underside of every drone. And it’s bright red so it stands out against the black.’

They watched as the drone dropped through the leaves and went down into the ditch. It hovered in the air over the original set of footprints, the camera lens on its undercarriage swivelling from side to side.

Then it headed straight for them.

‘It’s spotted us!’ said Ivy.

‘What do we do?’ asked Bernie.

‘Run!’