Bernie and Ivy had released the animals, which meant that they could proceed to stage two of the plan. With Lea-Lea keeping the other creatures inside the first helicopter, Bernie now led the way to the smaller chopper.

The sun had dipped below the trees and twilight was settling over the clearing. They could hear the distant sound of the poachers wrangling an animal beyond the third helicopter. As they approached, Bernie saw movement through the cockpit window – a silhouette in the dim light. Someone was inside. How were they going to disable that helicopter? Coming to a stop by the open door, Bernie pointed to the cockpit and put his finger to his lips.

Ivy nodded.

In an exaggerated way, Bernie mouthed the words: What do we do?

Ivy shrugged.

Bernie knew they had to do something. They couldn’t just leave it at this. Maybe he could use the cattle prod to threaten the pilot. He swung it off his shoulder and turned the intensity dial all the way to low. Poacher or not, he didn’t want to end up accidentally hurting them.

Quietly, cautiously, Bernie climbed up into the passenger compartment. There were two seats at one end, a heavy-duty tripod bolted to the floor in the centre and a long metal box at the other end. The cockpit was partially obscured by two high-backed seats where the pilot and copilot would sit. They blocked Bernie’s view of the person in the cockpit . . . which meant that whoever was in there couldn’t see him either. Now what?

He looked around for inspiration, his eyes resting on the metal box. It butted up against the seat backs. Inching his way towards it, he carefully put his right foot up on the box. His heart thundered in his ears but he tried to keep his breathing steady. Shifting his weight onto that foot, he lifted his other foot up, going into a crouch as he climbed onto the box. So far, so good. He was right up against the rear of the pilot’s seat. He hoped that the sound of the poachers outside would mask any noise he might make in here.

Taking a long, deep breath to calm himself, Bernie desperately tried to come up with a plan. Could he zap the seat and hope that might knock the pilot out? No, that was stupid. Could he spring up and threaten the pilot with the cattle prod? No! He doubted he would be able to follow through on the threat. Given that he had the element of surprise, he could jump up, lean over the seat and zap the dashboard with the prod, then run away. Not the best plan, but at least that might put the helicopter out of commission. Then he and Ivy could run for the third chopper and hope they could disable it as well before being caught.

Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath to ready himself. Then, opening his eyes, he sprang up and . . .

Came nose to nose with a mean-looking bearded face.

‘Aaargh!’ the pilot shouted.

Bernie yelped and fell off the box onto the compartment floor. The shock of his bottom landing hard on the metal reverberated all the way up his spine and gave him an instant headache.

‘Who the hell are you?’ the man growled, as he started climbing over the chair.

Bernie held up the cattle prod in what he hoped was a confident and assured way. ‘I-I-I’m Bernie . . . and if you come any closer I’ll . . . I’ll zap you!’

The guy stopped, looked Bernie in the eye and burst out laughing. ‘Yeah, right, kid. I’m soooo scared.’ He laughed again.

Bernie didn’t know how to respond. He sat on the floor, frozen. The guy laughed again and continued climbing over the seat.

Suddenly, Ivy sprang into the compartment beside him like some sort of rainbow-haired action hero. She didn’t hesitate. She thrust her cattle prod towards the pilot, sparks flashing. The guy dodged, but then tripped and fell back into the cockpit with a scream.

Ivy held out a hand to Bernie. ‘We’ve got to get out of here. Now!’

Bernie could hear groaning and swearing coming from the cockpit. Ivy was right. This part of the plan had failed. She helped him up and the two of them leapt from the helicopter. As they raced towards the trees, a magnified voice boomed through the air.

‘We have company!’ It was the pilot. He paused to groan. ‘Two kids. They tried to electrocute me with a zappy stick . . . or something. They’re running towards Transport Alpha. Someone better stop them!’

Bernie heard shouting in the distance. No doubt the other poachers were all chasing them now. His legs felt like jelly but he forced himself to keep running, following Ivy. As they passed the first helicopter, he could see Lea-Lea looking at them. ‘Run!’ he yelled, waving at her. ‘Get away.’

As Lea-Lea jumped down, he risked a quick look over his shoulder. Six people in camouflage gear were chasing them. One was trying to aim his tranquilliser rifle as he ran. Bernie tripped, rolled across the ground and dropped his cattle prod. Staggering to his feet, he saw that Ivy had pulled ahead of him and was almost at the trees. Panting hard, he put on an extra burst of speed.

He reached the treeline to find that Ivy had stopped and was looking back past him. He turned to see Lea-Lea leading the animals in a charge against their pursuers. The man with the rifle fired and the weewarrasaur stumbled and fell, rolling over and over in the grass. Bernie winced, hoping it would be okay.

‘Lea-Lea picked up your cattle prod,’ said Ivy.

‘What?’ Bernie tried to make out what was happening in the darkening clearing.

As the humans and the animals clashed, one of the poachers changed course and ran for the smaller helicopter. The rotor started up.

‘We’ve done all we can,’ said Ivy gravely. ‘Time to go tell Dad what’s going on.’