Jamie trailed behind the staff member, eyes sweeping every inch of pavement, grass, and fencing. “He’s so small,” he whispered. “He couldn’t have gone far.” The staff member nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “We’ll check every enclosure. Sometimes they squeeze through things we’d never expect.”
Visitors passed by, laughing, licking ice creams, unaware that Jamie’s whole world had slipped through the cracks. They walked past the reptile house, then the aviary. At one point, Jamie thought he heard a bark. He sprinted toward the sound—but it was someone’s ringtone. False hope.
They reached the lemur zone. A handler said she saw “something fast and tan” run past twenty minutes earlier. Jamie’s heart leapt. “Which way?” She pointed toward the east path. Jamie and the staff member turned and broke into a jog. “Please be okay,” Jamie whispered under his breath.
The east path forked near the old lion statue. Jamie chose right. A moment later, distant shouts and the unmistakable sound of rising panic drifted through the air. A scream. Then another. “What’s going on?” Jamie asked. The staff member raised her walkie. “Dispatch, something’s up near the big cats.”