“What’s the plan,” Magellan yelled back to Monk. Even though he shouted at the top of his lungs, the wind swept the words away so that Monk could barely hear him. 

“Plan,” Monk shouted back, “My plan was to follow your plan.”

“What! You are always the one with a plan. If you don’t have a plan, we are doomed.”

It certainly looked that way. The train raced along, near 80 miles an hour. Monk tightened his grip on the edge of the car. The wind almost blinded him as he attempted to look forward. He eyed the cliff on the other side of the train; it towered above them. Glancing down, he could see the village in the valley below. Letting go certainly would not be a good plan.

Monk’s ears picked up the sound of brakes. The train was slowing down. He forced his eyes open. A tunnel was coming up. 

“The tunnel,” he yelled to Magellan. “We have to get off in the tunnel!”

Magellan nodded. A few minutes later the train entered the tunnel. Monk opened his eyes. He saw a ledge on the side and jumped to grasp it. He held on as the train zoomed by. Once it left, both monkeys dropped onto the ground.

“That was a close one,” Magellan said.

Monk nodded. “We’d better get out of here.” 

They walked back out of the tunnel and scrambled up into the mountain side. It took them a full day of hiking to get back to the village. There bananas seeds were still carefully hidden in the rafters. Monk pulled up the train route and mentally calculated how much time they likely had before Ross and his gang figured out they had escaped. The train arrived in at the coast, right about, a quick glance at the watch revealed it arriving now. It would take 24 hours to take the train back to their location, but a plane would bring them there in three hours. 

“We’d better get moving,” he said nudging Magellan who had fallen asleep on the bed. “Our shortest time frame gives us three hours to move out before Ross and the boys will be here.”

Magellan grudgingly got up. “Think we can get a plane here,” he asked, packing banana seeds into his backpack.

Monk shook his head. The only plane at the Apeville airport was slow and belonged to an old ape who would never part with it. 

“They have some old war planes over at Ralling’s Crossings,” Magellan commented, “We could get one of those.”

“Most don’t work,” Monk replied, tightening the straps on his pack.

“Still, if one did, we’d have the best chance at getting out of here. You know Ross is going to have all the train stations watched and we can’t beat him on foot.”

“You have a point,” Monk agreed. He grabbed the map and marked a path for Ralling’s Crossing. Hoisting their packs onto their backs, the two monkeys plunged into the jungle. The sun would raise in a couple hours. Monk knew at most they had a two hour lead on Ross. 

It was close to ten when Monk and Magellan reached Ralling’s Crossing. Magellan stood guard as Monk scrambled over the planes looking for one that worked. A gunshot caused him to wheel around. Magellan was running toward him as a black jeep drove up the runway.

Monk ducked behind the plan. A moment later Magellan joined him. 

“They came up from the left,” he gasped. 

“Ross,” Monk asked.

Magellan nodded. “Looks like it.”

“Got a way out of here?”

Monk looked over the planes parked there. Each one was in line, his eyes scanned them, which one might work?

“Stay here,” he said. He swung under a few planes and slipped between the others. The jeep had stopped. He heard the doors open and close. Footsteps sounded on the tarmac. A shot hit the metal propeller on a nearby plane. 

Magellan pulled out his pistol and returned fire. Monk sprinted toward the last plane in the row. From the far side of it, he opened up the engine and inspected it. Everything looked like it was in working condition except one wire running to the battery. He hopped over to a nearby plane with a similar engine and swiped the wire from it.

It took a few minutes more to fix it. He whistled to Magellan and climbed into the plane and started the engine. 

Magellan dashed between the planes, and catapulted himself into the seat next to Monk.

“Let’s go,” he yelled.

Monk pushed the throttle forward and started down the runway. Bullets bounced off the plane as they took off. In a few moments they were out of range and both monkeys breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why do you think they are after us,” Monk asked.

Magellan shrugged, “Mrs. Potts made some comment about Ross running an underground organization selling illegal things. Maybe he’s afraid of what we will do to him.”

“Maybe,” Monk said. “We should have those seeds checked out though, it maybe they are not what we were told the were.”

“That will be number one priority when we get home. If we get home.”

Monk laughed. “We will make it home alright. This plane will get us to Jackson which is outside of Ross’s area of operation. From there we can easily catch a flight home and should be able to make it by Tuesday night.”

And so it was. Tuesday night found both monkeys gladly and safely back in there own homes but still with many questions.