The Swiss Family RobinZOM (Book 3) by Perrin Briar Page A

Nest.
    Tring-a-ling! the first bell went again. Liz bent down to Francis.
    “Francis,” she said, “I need you to stay and guard our home, okay?”
    “But I thought we were going to make lunch?” Francis said.
    Tring-a-ling! the second bell went.
    “We’ll make it later,” Liz said. “Right now we’ve got a few things to do. I want you to go into the treehouse and wait there, okay?”
    Tring-a-ling! the first and second bells went. The first bell paused for a second between each ring.
    “But I want to go out and fight with you,” Francis said.
    “You are fighting,” Liz said. “You’re defending our home. You must make sure none of the Lurchers get in while we’re away. Okay?”
    Francis nodded.
    “Okay,” he said.
    “Promise me you won’t go anywhere.”
    “I promise.”
    “Pinky promise me.”
    Liz extended her little finger, and Francis wrapped his own around hers. She lifted him up in her arms, held him tight and kissed him on the cheek.
    “I love you,” she said.
    “I love you too, Momma.”
    Liz’s tears stung her eyes.
    “I’ll be right back,” she said.
    Tring-a-ling! Liz looked up at the bells. The first bell rattled and rang, flying wildly side to side, never stopping. The second bell rang almost as frequently.
    Tring-a-ling! the third bell rang. Liz turned and ran into the jungle.

 
     
    Twenty-One
     
    Bill and Fritz had just felled another tree by the time Liz rounded the corner.
    “They’re coming!” Liz said.
    “Who’s coming?” Bill said.
    “My parents. Who do you think?”
    Bill looked over at their traps.
    “But we’re not ready,” he said.
    “What’ll we do?” Liz said.
    “When did the bells start ringing?”
    “About five minutes ago.”
    “Then we have about twenty or thirty minutes before they get here.”
    Bill punched a tree.
    “Crap!” he said. “We need more time.”
    “How much longer do we need?” Liz said.
    “I don’t know. Thirty minutes. An hour. The longer the better.”
    Liz hopped onto Lightfoot’s back.
    “Then you keep building,” she said.
    Bill stepped in front of the donkey.
    “Where do you think you’re going?” he said.
    “To give you your extra time,” Liz said.
    Bill shook his head.
    “We’ll head for the boat and get out of here,” he said.
    “No. We’re fighting. And somebody has to do this. You’re better at building than me. Do you really want one of the boys to do it?”
    Bill thought for a moment, then stepped aside. Liz pulled up next to him, leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.
    “I love you,” Bill said.
    “And you always will,” Liz said. “Now, get back to work, slacker.”
    She turned toward the jungle with a determined look in her eye.
    “Giddyup!” she said.
    The donkey sprang into a sedate pace. Bill’s heart swelled with equal parts pride and concern as his beloved rode with a distinct lack of grace into the foliage.
    “What do you want me to do, Dad?” Fritz said.
    “First, help me put this trunk into position,” Bill said.
    They grabbed a vine each and put all their strength and weight into hefting the trunk, and then tied it off. They picked up an axe each and felled another log. They stripped it, prepared it, and hoisted it into position. They completed two more in quick succession before they stopped.
    “There,” Bill said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it? Go get your brothers.”
    Bill took a deep breath through his nose and got his breath back. He stood with his hands behind his back surveying the area they had turned into a booby trap artist’s paradise. The holes were covered with broad leaves, indistinguishable from the greenery surrounding it. Lumps of dripping meat hung above each of them. Half a dozen trunks with obsidian fringes sat perched in the boughs of half a dozen trees. The nets of coconuts hung overhead, precarious and ready. The Robinson boys strode over to their father.
    “You wanted to see us?” Ernest