‘You kids are gonna pay for this!’ The woman advanced on Bernie and Ivy with the cattle prod.

The helicopter had been completely devoured by the fungus, and the white strands on the ground had withdrawn closer to the core. All around, the glow of the fungus dimmed. Bernie wondered if the mycelium needed all its energy to digest the metal.

‘Give it up,’ said Bolete. ‘We have been defeated!’

‘A hostage will help my escape,’ she said, taking a menacing step towards the kids. ‘But I only need one. And I’m in the mood for some revenge.’ The end of the cattle prod sparked as she tested it. Then she adjusted the dial on its base. ‘Full strength, I think.’ She gave the button another squeeze and sparks danced between the prongs, lighting up her face.

Bernie’s heart was hammering so hard, he thought that surely it would burst from his chest. He felt like a kid. A useless little child.

‘Come on, captain,’ said the pilot, moving to stand beside her. ‘They’re only kids.’

‘Did I ask for your opinion?’ She rounded on the pilot, waving the prod at him like it was a club. ‘You’re not paid to have opinions. You’re paid to shut up and do as you’re told. Got that?’ Without waiting for a response, she returned her attention to Bernie and Ivy.

‘Seriously?’ The pilot continued his protest. ‘I’m paid to fly a chopper and poach animals. I’m not paid to listen to your ranting or to stand around and watch kids being attacked.’

‘I said . . .’ The woman swung the prod around in an arc, smacking the pilot in the face. ‘Shut! Up!’

‘Aaargh!’ He fell to the ground, blood pouring from his nose.

The woman swept the prod back around to threaten Bernie and Ivy. ‘Now,’ she said, moving the cattle prod in small circles as she advanced. ‘Which one of you do I keep. And which one do I . . .’ She hit the button again and electricity crackled.

Bernie flinched. Should he and Ivy run, he wondered? They might be able to get away. But fear made it difficult for him to breathe, let alone run.

A loud screeching sound echoed from the treetops nearest them. Something dropped through the branches, thudding to the ground. A bundle of grey-brown fur, claws and gnashing teeth streaked across the ground towards them.

The poacher whirled around, stabbing the prod towards the approaching creature.

Sparks flew.

Electricity crackled.

But the creature dodged, shrieking as it circled the woman and then sprang, sinking its claws into her leg.

‘It’s the drop bear!’ Ivy called out.

Bernie almost let out a cheer.

The poacher howled with pain and dropped the prod. Jumping around in panic, she grasped the creature’s fur and ripped it from her leg, flinging the drop bear away from her.

The drop bear smacked into a nearby tree trunk and thumped to the ground. It lay in a heap, whimpering in distress.

Bernie gasped. The poor creature had been trying to help them.

Ignoring her injured leg, the poacher scooped up the cattle prod and returned her attention to the teenagers. ‘That was fun!’ she hissed through gritted teeth.

Fun? Fun! Bernie was appalled.

Bolete was keeping his distance, eying the woman shrewdly. ‘Think about this, mademoiselle,’ he said, keeping his voice level. ‘For the moment it is poaching for which you will be incarcerated. Surely you do not wish to increase the length of your confinement?’

‘At this point,’ the woman snarled, ‘I’m beyond caring.’

‘Yes, I suspected as much,’ muttered Bolete. He slipped the hood of his hazmat suit back over his head as he stepped away. Marching over to the mushrooms, he searched around and picked one.

What was he doing? wondered Bernie. Was he leaving them to the mercy of this deranged woman?

Bernie and Ivy tried to retreat, but the poacher limped towards them, blood dripping from her leg, an evil glint in her eyes and crackles of electricity on the end of her prod. ‘I wonder how many jolts before you fry?’

Bolete came stalking back towards the poacher. ‘Mademoiselle, I really must insist that you do not harm the children.’ His voice was muffled under the hood, but audible. ‘I realise that they are most annoying, but now is the time for restraint.’

‘Would you prefer I fry your face?’ She rounded on Bolete with a growl and thrust the cattle prod at him.

Bolete sidestepped with a dance-like twirl, but the woman swung the prod around and clipped his shoulder, sparks crackling. Bolete hit the ground, dropping his mushroom. With an agonised groan he reached for it, but the poacher stepped forward, her boot coming down onto his outstretched hand.

‘Guess you’re first.’ She leaned over him with the cattle prod.

Bernie watched with rising horror. She was going to kill Bolete. Instinct took over. Bolete was far from his favourite person, but Bernie couldn’t just stand by and watch him fry. Without a second thought, he threw himself at the poacher.

He managed to knock her off balance and she staggered a few paces, but he ended up sprawled in front of her. She snarled as she regained her balance. But in the next second, she was knocked to the ground as Ivy barrelled into her.

Bernie watched as the two of them went tumbling. This gave Bolete enough time to stagger to his feet, clutching his mushroom. He stumbled forward, then crashed to his knees beside the fallen poacher. As Ivy rolled away, he leaned forward and clapped the mushroom between his outstretched hands. A cloud of spores exploded in the woman’s face.

She coughed and gagged, dropping the cattle prod. She tried to speak, no doubt attempting to curse Bolete, but all that she managed was a wheezing gasp. Clutching her throat, she tried to sit up, but failed. Her chest heaved as she attempted to draw breath, her face going red. Her eyes rolled up and her body spasmed, before going limp.

‘D-did you just . . . k-kill her?’ asked Bernie, his voice a tiny whimper, as he slowly got up. Despite the threats this woman had made, the thought of Bolete murdering her with a mushroom appalled him.

‘I sincerely hope not,’ said Bolete, visibly trembling. ‘I do not want murder added to the charges against me.’

Bernie and Ivy stood in silence.

Bolete removed his hood again, but otherwise stayed quite still, not even blinking. The pilot remained on the ground, hands covering his nose, trying to stop the bleeding. All of them stared at the motionless poacher.

Bernie looked for the movement of her chest, an indication that she was still breathing. He thought she was still alive, but in the gloom it was hard to tell.

The woman made a snuffling sound, twitched and began to snore. Bernie breathed a sigh of relief.

He and Ivy went to examine the drop bear. It was bleeding and unconscious, but still alive. Bernie wanted to pick it up and cradle it in his arms, but its claws looked razor-sharp.

‘Is there something we could wrap it up in?’

Ivy looked around.

Bolete removed the poacher’s camo jacket and brought it over to them.

Bernie cautiously wrapped the jacket around the animal and gently lifted it.

‘I hope it’ll be okay,’ said Ivy.

Eventually, they heard the sound of approaching engines. They looked into the jungle to see lights heading in their direction.

There was a sudden movement in the trees and Lea-Lea burst onto the scene. She went straight to Ivy, who, despite her stricken expression, managed to give the dinosaur an affectionate scratch.

‘Well, it seems like the cavalry has arrived,’ said Bolete, his voice unsteady, and a little higher than normal. ‘Do remember to tell them that I saved the two of you from her.’ He indicated the poacher, still unconscious on the ground. ‘At great personal peril.’ He rubbed his injured shoulder. ‘I’m sure that must count in my favour. And . . . and I fetched the jacket for the wounded animal. Yes.’ He was babbling now. ‘I wasn’t poaching either, you know. It was just a business arrangement. I give them access to the island, they provide me and my fungus with an escape. I wanted the mushrooms, you see. So much potential in them. So much money to be made. So much fame to be acquired.’ He was giggling by the time the jeeps crashed through the undergrowth, blazing headlights cutting across the soft fungal glow.

Bernie’s mum was the first one out of the vehicles. She ran straight to Bernie and enveloped him in a massive hug. It wasn’t until she released him that she even noticed the creature he was cradling.

‘What in the world?’

‘It’s a drop bear,’ said Bernie. ‘Tell you about it later.’ He leaned in to her and she hugged him again.

Ivy looked around, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘Dad?’ Her voice was shaky.

Mr Meier climbed out of the jeep. He briefly surveyed the scene then strode up to his daughter. The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, then simultaneously spread their arms and embraced. Ivy buried her face in her father’s shoulder.