Crocodile Rescue! Read online

  To you.

  You are worthy of being seen and included in every adventure you want to embark on, just as you are.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Author’s Note

  Alligator Vs. Crocodile: What’s the Difference?

  Learn Spanish with the Villalobos Family!

  Don’t Miss Adrianna’s Next Adventure!

  About the Author

  Copyright

  The camera crew faded away in slow motion, my hands clawing at the sand, desperately trying to latch on to a rock. The underwater lights disappeared into the inky darkness as I was pulled farther underwater.

  Whatever you do, A, don’t move that leg! screamed my inner voice as my fingers continued to rake through the mangroves’ silty bottom, hoping to grab hold of a sturdy root.

  Would I ever see my parents again?

  Would I ever go on another adventure with Feye?

  Who would take care of Duke?!

  I took a quick glance back and tried not to cry as I realized how much trouble I was in: The ten-foot American crocodile had my leg firmly in its mouth.

  “Adrianna! Feye! Come meet us in the lobby,” Mom shouted over the intercom.

  I was busy reapplying a bandage to Rowan’s paw. The injured lion cub was the newest member at the zoo. Rowan was usually fidgety, but after we played a game of tug-of-war, he quieted down enough to let me fix the bandages he had muddied during his run around the zoo’s outdoor enclosure. The squeak of a door alerted Rowan to company, and the cub quickly scurried away from my lap and tried to hide in a corner. After having been kidnapped by poachers in the wild, he was still afraid of most humans.

  With a frown, I turned to the door. My older brother leaned against the frame. “Mom texted me, too,” Feye said. “That new producer is on his way over to tell us more about where we’re going.”

  I stood up, about to respond, when an automated message interrupted my thoughts. “Thank you for visiting Sacred Sanctuary and Zoological Park. The zoo will be closing in ten minutes. Please start making your way to the exit now.” With a final pat of Rowan’s fuzzy head, I left the enclosure and headed down the hall to the Wildlife Hospital.

  “I’m really excited about this new show, but I’m going to miss Alessi,” I said, looking down at my phone to see if my best friend had messaged me back. Her mom was one of the big cat caretakers and sometimes she came into work with her. We waved goodbye to some employees as we went to meet our parents in the visitors’ center lobby. I looked up at my big brother, waiting for him to respond. He had recently dyed his black, wiry hair to a shocking blond that stood out against his dark skin and brown eyes.

  My parents adopted Feye when I was just a baby. I’ve only ever known him as my big brother, even if we don’t look alike. Our parents liked to joke that we were as thick as thieves, and called our adventures “Feye and Adrianna missions,” because my mom was convinced we were on a mission to give her gray hairs. When we traveled along the Orinoco River in Venezuela, we brought piranhas into our tents to study how they ate, only to end up with bite marks and fishy-smelling blankets. During our last trip to Malaysia, we gave a group of orangutans all our bananas from our fruit stash. They made a terrible mess!

  “I know you’ll miss Alessi, but the Wild Survival! show has really taken off. We’re going from a YouTube show to actual TV! Think of all the new animals we’ll get to help here at the zoo. It’s a good thing,” Feye said, stretching his arms above his head and then ruffling my black hair. As I squirmed from his grip and ran through the visitors’ center doors, I saw our dad motioning for us to hurry up.

  Around here, Mom and Dad are famous. Well, as famous as wildlife conservationists can be. They had a popular YouTube channel called Wild Survival! where for years they showcased our family’s travels around the world. We rescue animals from all over and then nurse them back to health at the zoo. The YouTube channel was originally just a way for them to share their passion for animals with a bigger audience, but lately we had gotten super popular. So popular that a television producer named Mr. Savage had recently reached out to my parents, asking if they wanted to do a television network show. My parents had jumped at the chance because a network show meant more money to fund animal rescues, and an opportunity to take our love of animals to a whole new audience.

  I’d been begging our parents to let me help them with animal rescues on the YouTube channel, but they had a strict rule: “No on-screen until you turn thirteen.” Something about keeping us safe and wanting to make sure we were mature enough to be in front of the camera. Blah blah blah. Feye got to be on camera and he made fart jokes at dinnertime—how mature is that?!

  I had just recently turned twelve (¡un año más!) and my parents had given me the best news: that The Rule was about to go away because Mr. Savage said the television network wanted to involve the whole family in front of the cameras! There were still rules (of course! Sigh).

  Safety first! If Mom and Dad thought a situation wasn’t safe, Feye and I had to stop what we were doing immediately and get out of harm’s way.

  I didn’t do anything alone—ever. I always had to have an adult with me in the field.

  The first two weeks would be a trial run. If I got into trouble, poof! I’d be back behind the scenes faster than you can say “Wild Survival!”

  I couldn’t wait to star in Wild Survival! with Feye and our parents. I knew they trusted me to be responsible because they let me do a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff, like give them ideas for segments to do on their show. I was proud that some of the video segments I had suggested were the ones with the highest views on our YouTube channel.

  As Feye and I jogged up to our parents, Dad held out an iPad with pictures of a crocodile on it. “Mr. Savage sent over some info about an injured crocodile,” Dad said. He swiped through some more pictures and started a short video. The camerawork was shaky, but we could see a large crocodile limp out of the water and into some thick forest greenery.

  “That’s the animal we are going to help out?” Feye asked, looking over Dad’s shoulder. Feye had just turned fourteen and had grown taller than both our parents this summer. He took the iPad out of Dad’s hands and swiped back to look at the photos.

  Dad nodded, about to speak, when the lobby doors burst open and in walked a short man with piercing blue eyes.

  “I can see it now. The debut episode of Wild Survival! filled with high action for two full hours. I can already picture the title: ‘The Hunt for Cuba’s Mega Croc.’ And it’s injured! Perfect! Full of dramatic boat shots through the mangroves as the clock ticks down to find this dangerous predator before it—” He paused at Dad’s sudden intimidating look. Rick Savage was the producer of my parent’s show. He had thinning red hair and a pale, freckled face. Mr. Savage wore the same look I’d always seen him in—aviator sunglasses, a blue button-up shirt, and white pants with crocodile-skin shoes (he swore they were fake). I wondered if he owned any other clothe
s.

  Our parents had never done a network TV show before, let alone a production that was so flashy, but they’d put their trust in Mr. Savage to make a good series. Mr. Savage’s brainstorms for the show usually involved the words “mega,” “monster,” “dangerous,” or “man-eater” when describing animals. It made me roll my eyes, but I figured he knew what made TV shows sell.

  “Where is this injured ‘Mega Croc’?” our mom asked, taking the iPad from Feye to watch the video once more.

  “Cuba,” he said. “So we don’t have a moment to lose. Locals say it was recently injured, and as you can tell, it needs immediate medical care. It probably can’t move much, so it’ll be easier to track down. I’ll need you to pack up your things tonight so we can get out there quickly. We have a flight booked and ready!”

  Tonight! I shivered with excitement. I couldn’t wait to start our search for the injured crocodile!

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as the airplane captain turned on the seat belt sign for landing.

  “You nervous, A?” Feye asked, looking over at me from his Aves de Cuba field guide. He was obsessed with birds, but I could never understand the appeal. Sharks, tigers, and even crocodiles were far more interesting than chirpy birds. Feye already had his binoculars around his neck, ready to spot some new feathered friends. I rolled my eyes and looked out the window.

  “A little. I just hope we can find the crocodile and get it safely back to the Wildlife Hospital. And not spend too much time on the extra dramatic stuff,” I said, now able to see more of the island. Earlier during the flight, I’d overheard Mr. Savage talking to my parents about how the show would mostly focus on finding a legendary monster-sized crocodile in Cuba instead of the injured crocodile … how ridiculous!

  “We all have the animal’s safety in mind, even Mr. Savage,” Feye said with confidence. I continued looking out the window, not wanting to think about Mr. Savage anymore. With a few bumps thanks to turbulence, we landed.

  “How big do you think the crocodile is?” I asked Feye as I tried to get my luggage from the overhead compartment.

  Feye shrugged, reached over, and grabbed my bag for me. “No idea. Maybe ten feet? Dad is better at guessing size than I am. But it definitely didn’t seem big enough to be that ‘Mega Croc’ Mr. Savage keeps going on about.”

  Outside the plane, a big production bus was waiting for us. I saw Feye take his cell phone out, holding it up in the air while we walked toward the bus.

  “No bars already! How am I going to let my fans know about our adventures?” He sighed.

  I laughed. Feye considered himself an “influencer” on social media and liked to keep his fans up to date. I went ahead and checked my phone, too. I had only one fan—Alessi—but that was all I needed. But no bars for me either. Darn.

  I climbed into the bus and took up a whole row as I got ready for the long ride ahead to the coast. I planned to study up on crocodiles with a book I’d brought with me, but before long I was fast asleep.

  * * *

  A jolt of the bus snapped me awake. I stretched and peered out the window. It was a blur of green as countryside whooshed by.

  My mom poked her head up over the seat in front of me. “Good, you’re awake! We’re almost there,” she said before ducking back down.

  Every time we rescue an animal, I always try to learn as much as I can about it. I cracked open my notebook and jotted down a few things I’d learned from my book before I drifted off.

  Finally, the bus lurched to a stop and we all got off. I took my bags and handed them off to a crew member standing near a boat. This was how we were getting to our final destination: an archipelago, or chain of islands, in the southern part of Cuba. I looked outside at the mangroves hugging either side of the channel and remembered how Feye once said that they are hardy survivors. With their long webs of roots submerged in murky water, these beautiful trees thrive in conditions that would quickly kill most other plants. They really are true survivors—and home to such an incredible diversity of creatures.

  Night had fallen by the time our boat docked at a floating boat hotel. Our journey to come to the home of the injured crocodile had taken all day! We’d stay at the boat hotel for the next week as we tried to locate our croc.

  As the adults got busy setting everything up, Feye and I went to our rooms to sleep for the rest of the night. I plopped down on the bed and looked around my room, realizing it didn’t look that different from other hotels we had stayed in. If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t have known we were floating in the water!

  * * *

  The next morning, I woke up to the smell of my favorite breakfast—bacon and waffles! I shot out of bed and over to the window to soak in the orange-pink sunrise. From the second floor of the boat hotel, you could see for miles. It was then that it dawned on me how utterly alone we were. I couldn’t even see another boat! The hotel was docked on the edge of a channel near a large cluster of trees. The water was so calm, it reflected the sunrise’s rays like glass. From our main channel of water, many other smaller channels snaked in different directions, leading deeper into the dense forest. There were so many different paths to take and explore! I could hear the chittering of birds hidden in the mangroves’ branches, almost like they were calling to me. I took a deep breath in, smiled, and headed downstairs to start the day.

  “So, what’s the plan for today?” Feye asked our parents, bits of bacon coming out of his full mouth as he spoke.

  “Feye! ¿Donde están tus modales? Manners, please!” our mom said. His face reddened as he mumbled sorry and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

  Dad smiled. “Well, we’re all going on a test run of our equipment! We need to make sure our snorkeling gear works and doesn’t have any leaks.”

  “I didn’t pack any snorkel gear!” Feye and I said in unison, suddenly feeling very unprepared. How could we not have thought to bring our stuff?!

  Mom laughed. “No, don’t worry! We have new snorkel and dive gear that the network provided. It has the show’s logo on it and everything so we can all match.”

  Mr. Savage opened the door, a cup of hot coffee in one hand (he lived on the stuff) and a big rolling bag in the other. “Here are the stars! Hope everyone slept well,” he boomed.

  He set his coffee cup down and lugged the big bag onto a chair. “Right, so outside we have all the gear you need to test this morning. Once you are done with breakfast, I want the family and their safety divers to get geared up in the scuba stuff first. Connor, as lead sound producer, you’re in charge of making sure these fancy microphone face masks work.”

  Connor was our sound producer at Sacred Sanctuary and Zoological Park. He helped out with the YouTube show and set up the sound for our educational presentations at the zoo. Connor had been part of our team for what felt like forever. He and Feye were practically best friends because they both liked big cats and bird-watching.

  “On it, boss,” Connor said in his Australian accent. He, like Mr. Savage, also seemed to live on coffee … and banana bread. That was one of the reasons I liked him—he always had snacks in his pockets and he sometimes let me have some. Snacks like the last chocolate muffin he had on his plate.

  Connor saw me eyeing it, let out a chuckle, and passed a chunk to me. “That’s all you get, you dingus.” I smiled and reached over to grab the butter to slather the muffin with.

  As I shoved the muffin in my mouth, Feye grabbed my hand and said, “Connor, stop feeding her! We need to get ready!” He tugged me out of my chair and toward the gear Mr. Savage had put down nearby.

  “Oi, I need to eat, too! Take your time,” Connor said in between mouthfuls.

  “Manners, Connor!” Feye teased, and stuck out his tongue.

  “Feye! Stop sassing the poor guy and let him eat with the rest of the adults,” our mother said, drinking her orange juice.

  Feye had stopped listening as he rummaged through the bag with the new gear. He threw a wet suit and a bag at me without any
warning, so I dropped both things. I grumbled as I picked up the stuff and headed upstairs after Feye to change. Not going to lie, we looked pretty darn professional in our new spiffy gear!

  “Hey, kids!” we heard Connor yell from the boat docking station, on the other side of the kitchen. “Meet me by the boats for the trial dive!”

  We didn’t need to be told twice. We dashed toward his voice to meet up with him and the rest of the crew. Our parents were also in their wet suits now, sitting by the scuba tanks. As a crew member helped strap their tanks on, another busied themselves with tightening the full-face masks on us.

  I have been scuba diving since I was ten years old and I have my Junior Open Water certification, but I had never worn a mask with a microphone before. It couldn’t be that different, right? I started to take the microphone mask out of the bag it came in.

  Connor plopped down next to me, smiling his big flashy smile, and said, “Not so fast, Adrianna. You’ve never put one of these on before, so I’m in charge of making sure you’re comfortable with it.”

  He took the bag out of my hand and pulled out a glossy black-and-blue mask that would cover my eyes and nose. Connor pointed to a button on the bottom right of the mask. “See this? That’s the button you want to hit whenever you want to talk and have people hear you.”

  I nodded.

  “You can’t squeeze your nose like you would with a regular mask, so if you want to equalize your ears as you dive deeper so they don’t hurt, you can push the mask up so it hits your nose,” Connor explained. In scuba diving lingo, “equalizing” means to relieve the building pressure between the inside of your ears and the surrounding water. If you dive without equalizing your ears, it hurts really bad and you could damage your hearing!

  I nodded again. “I’m a pro, Connor! Don’t worry!”

  He laughed. “I know, I know. Just remember to breathe normally, okay? It might get a little sweaty in there around your mouth, but you should be fine.”

  I pulled the mask over and tugged at the straps to make it tight around my face. I gave everyone a thumbs-up and saw Mr. Savage walk toward us.