Chapter 2 — The Missing Red Panda
Ethan
The early morning light pierced through the zoo’s towering trees, casting streaks of gold across the winding paths. The air was crisp, alive with the hum of waking animals and the faint chatter of staff preparing for the day. Dr. Ethan Calloway’s limp was more pronounced as he hurried toward the Red Panda Sanctuary, the faint clinking of tools in his vest punctuating the uneven rhythm of his steps. His clipboard was tucked tightly under one arm, and the coffee he’d barely touched sat forgotten in the clinic.
The call had come just before sunrise: a red panda was missing. Ethan’s jaw was tight, his usual morning routine replaced by the chaos of an escape. As he approached the sanctuary, a small group of staff and volunteers had gathered, their murmurs blending with the distant calls of tropical birds. Harper Bennett stood at the edge of the group, her auburn curls held back by a bright yellow bandana dotted with tiny bamboo shoots. She fidgeted with her hands, her green eyes darting nervously between the staff. Her shoulders stiffened when she spotted Ethan, a mix of determination and unease flashing across her face.
Ethan’s sharp hazel gaze swept over her briefly before landing on Greg, the senior zookeeper in charge of the sanctuary. The wiry man adjusted his glasses nervously as Ethan reached him.
“Status?” Ethan’s voice was calm and deliberate, though the urgency beneath it was unmistakable.
Greg shifted his weight and gestured toward the enclosure. “We believe it escaped sometime overnight. One of the keepers noticed the absence during the morning feeding. We did a preliminary check of the enclosure but found no sign of it inside. There’s a gap in the fence near the northern corner—small, but enough for a red panda to slip through.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened further. “How long has that gap been there?”
Greg swallowed, glancing down. “It was flagged for repair last week. Maintenance hasn’t gotten to it yet.”
Ethan exhaled slowly, the simmering frustration evident in the slight tightening of his grip on the clipboard. “We’ll deal with the maintenance backlog later. Right now, the priority is finding the red panda before it gets too far. Red pandas are climbers—they tend to stay close, but we can’t take any chances.”
From the corner of his eye, Ethan saw Harper step forward, her hands clasped nervously. “Dr. Calloway, I… I think I saw that gap yesterday,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. She glanced down, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “I didn’t think it was—important enough to mention. I should’ve said something. I’m sorry.”
Ethan turned to her, his tone measured but brisk. “We’ll address that later. Right now, we focus on finding the animal.”
Harper flinched slightly at his words, her shoulders sagging as she took a small step back. Ethan caught the movement, his chest twisting with a pang of regret. He hadn’t meant to be so curt. He forced himself to soften his voice. “This isn’t about blame,” he added, his tone quieter. “It’s about fixing the situation.”
Harper nodded, though her expression remained tight.
“Greg,” Ethan continued, his voice steady, “organize a team to search the surrounding areas. Focus on trees and elevated spots. It’ll likely stay in familiar territory.”
“I’ll join the search,” Harper blurted out, her voice firmer now, her green eyes bright with conviction.
Ethan hesitated, his instinct to refuse warring with the practical reality of needing every available hand. Finally, he gave a sharp nod. “Stick with Noah. And if you find anything, call it in immediately. Don’t try to handle it yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” Harper replied, her voice steady now.
As the group dispersed, Ethan stepped closer to the fence, crouching beside the gap. The frayed wires didn’t look like natural wear. Instead, they bore faint marks, like they’d been deliberately cut. His fingers hovered over the edges, his mind turning toward Victor Hargrove’s cryptic remarks the previous week about the zoo’s declining standards and “corners being cut.”
Ethan pulled a pen from his vest and jotted a quick note in the margin of his clipboard, the action automatic but deliberate. He frowned deeply but set the thought aside for now. There was no room for speculation without evidence.
Outside the sanctuary, Harper and Noah moved quickly along the shaded path leading toward the central lagoon. Harper’s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of guilt pressing harder with each step.
“You okay?” Noah asked, his tone light but tinged with concern.
Harper adjusted the knot of her bandana, her fingers trembling slightly. “I think so. I just… I should’ve said something when I saw that gap. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
Noah shook his head, his tone turning firm. “Harper, maintenance was supposed to fix it. This isn’t on you, okay? You’re not the first person to miss something small like that.”
She nodded, though her chest remained tight. As they approached the lagoon, Harper’s gaze wandered briefly, drawn to the peaceful reflection of willow trees on the water’s surface. The serenity was jarring, given the tension coursing through her. Then, a sudden flash of red fur high in the branches of a willow tree caught her eye.
“There!” she said, gripping Noah’s arm and pointing. “In the tree!”
Noah followed her gaze and let out a low whistle. “Good eye, Harper. That’s our guy.”
The red panda clung to a thin branch, its bushy tail swishing nervously. Harper grabbed her radio, her breath hitching as she pressed the button. “Dr. Calloway, we’ve located the red panda. It’s in a tree near the central lagoon.”
“Stay where you are. I’m on my way,” came Ethan’s voice, crackling through the radio.
Minutes later, Ethan arrived, his limp more noticeable after the hurried pace. He assessed the situation quickly, his hazel eyes narrowing as he calculated the best approach. The willow tree swayed slightly in the breeze, its branches creaking faintly under the red panda’s weight.
“We’ll need to coax it down,” Ethan said, his tone calm but firm. “No sudden movements. Noah, grab a ladder from the maintenance shed. Harper, stay here and keep an eye on it.”
Harper nodded, her gaze fixed on the red panda. Its small frame trembled as it shifted its weight on the precarious branch. Ethan crouched beside her, his voice low. “You did well spotting it. Now we just need to keep it calm.”
Harper glanced at him, surprised by the rare note of encouragement. “Thanks,” she said quietly.
When Noah returned with the ladder, Ethan positioned it carefully against the tree. As he began to climb, Harper’s breath caught. She could see the strain in his movements, the slight tremor in his injured leg as he ascended. A creak from the branch above made her heart lurch.
“Be careful,” she murmured, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.
Ethan didn’t respond, his focus entirely on the red panda. He moved slowly, extending a gloved hand toward the animal. “Easy now,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You’re okay. Let’s get you back where you belong.”
The red panda hesitated, its bright eyes darting nervously. For a tense moment, it seemed ready to bolt. Then, with a small, tentative movement, it inched closer. Ethan moved with practiced precision, wrapping his hands gently around the animal and securing it against his chest.
As he descended, Harper let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. When his boots touched the ground, she couldn’t help but smile. “Well done,” she said, her voice brimming with relief.
Ethan gave a faint nod, his expression unreadable. “Let’s get it back to the sanctuary.”
As they walked back, Harper stole a glance at Ethan. Beneath the guarded exterior, she saw a quiet determination and steady competence that resonated with her. But as they approached the enclosure, Ethan’s expression darkened. He crouched by the gap in the fence once more, his fingers tracing the edges.
“This wasn’t just negligence,” he murmured, almost to himself. “This gap—it looks deliberate.”
Harper’s stomach tightened. “You think someone did this on purpose?”
Ethan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he rose to his feet, his face unreadable. “It’s possible. But we’ll need more than a hunch.”
As the red panda was returned safely to its enclosure, the staff gathered in quiet relief, their earlier tension easing into murmurs of gratitude. Harper lingered, watching the animal as it curled into a ball, its breathing steady. She glanced at Ethan, who remained by the fence, his clipboard pressed tightly against his side.
A sense of foreboding weighed heavily on him, and as he glanced toward Harper, he couldn’t help but wonder if her determination might be what the zoo needed to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
