by Chris Pike
Nature found a way. It always did, and Joe Buck ought to know.
A few years prior, he had been working on a job at a zoo and had heard the rumblings of the crew who installed the new security system, after a cheetah discovered a way to squeeze through an opening next to a tree. When donations from wealthy donors hadn’t materialized, the zoo was forced to install a less expensive security system.
He was also aware of the pitfalls of zoo safety measures, reliant at times upon electricity to lock doors, electrify fences, arm alarms, to have the animals’ every move monitored on short circuit TV. When the electricity stopped working, the generators automatically kicked in. When those ran out of fuel, it was every man and animal for themselves.
As a last resort, zoos kept rifles on hand.
Joe Buck knew that too.
During his internship at a zoo, he was required to clean cages, a job he hated. The money wasn’t bad, and nothing much happened except for the time some kid climbed over an enclosure in the gorilla exhibit. Panic ensued as the gorilla dragged the poor dazed kid around like it was a baby gorilla. The kid’s mom screamed bloody murder, other visitors gawked at the real-life drama, unsure how to help except to make noise to try to coax the gorilla into relinquishing the kid.
Nothing worked except for the blunt-nose solid slug from a .375 H&H Magnum bolt-action elephant rifle.
The prize he was after.
The gorilla was dead before it hit the pavement. The kid was okay though.
Joe opened the glove compartment, the console, pushing around papers and other useless items in search of a weapon. Instead, he found a cell phone charger, a woman’s compact, lipstick, a pen, a child’s squeaky toy, a flashlight he pocketed, and even if it didn’t work, he could use it as a weapon.
In the back floorboard, behind the passenger seat, Joe spied children’s books, crayons, a well-used stuffed toy, an umbrella, and an empty box of animal crackers. He leaned over and reached further under the backseat. His hand came in contact with a canvas backpack.
Bingo.
Not the kind a school kid would take to class, rather one used for a specific purpose – the purpose Joe was searching for.
Reaching over at an awkward angle, he lugged the heavy backpack into the front seat and plopped it down next to him. He flinched at the pain in his shoulder, aggravated from a war injury. He massaged his shoulder and rotated his arm until the pain subsided.
In the first pocket he unzipped he found a plastic water bottle. He twisted the top off and guzzled half of the tepid water. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, took another gulp, and—
He froze at the sensation of pressure on his shoulder.
In a millisecond of time, his mind whirled over what it could be: man or animal.
Something or someone was touching him.
Regardless of who or what it was, it couldn’t be good.
Chapter 20
Joe twisted his body around, latched his hand onto a bony structure, and pummeled it with his other hand.
He landed three good punches.
“Stop! Please stop!” It was a woman’s voice. “Don’t drink all my water.”
Joe released his grip, mortified he had been hitting a woman. He flicked on the flashlight he had pocketed earlier and shined it in the backseat. Maybe he was lucky after all since the EMP should have rendered the flashlight batteries useless.
“Who are you?” Before the woman had time to answer, he said in a scolding tone, “You shouldn’t have snuck up on me. You scared the beejesus out of me. I could’ve hurt you.”
“Oh yeah?” she quipped back. “I was here first, and since possession is nine tenths of the law, you have no claim to this van.”
“Is this your van?” Joe asked.
“Umm, well, I uh—”
“Then no, it’s not yours. Am I right?”
“I guess so. I uh… oh never mind. It doesn’t matter whose van it is. I’m in it and I’m not giving it up to you or to anyone else.”
“Okay, lady. It’s yours,” Joe explained. He twisted all the way around to get a good look at the woman. “It obviously doesn’t work and I don’t want it anyway.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I don’t need a van. I need a weapon.”
“To do what with? Shoot defenseless animals?”
“To protect myself, that’s what. And in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a shit storm outside. Come to think of it, I have a few questions for you.”
“Go on.”
“I’m Joe Buck. What’s your name?”
“Hannah Hammer, and if you say anything about my name, you can open the door and go back to wherever you crawled away from.” Hannah leaned back in the seat, huffed, and crossed her arms over her chest.
“You’re putting words in my mouth without me even saying anything, and making assumptions. And what’s up with the buffalo size chip on your shoulder?”
“I do not have a buffalo chip on my shoulder.” Hannah enunciated each word clearly.
“It was a metaphor. It meant a big chip.”
“Let me repeat. I don’t have a chip of any size on my shoulder.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Joe’s sarcasm was getting obvious. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“I’m doing my job.”
“What job? Van sitting?” Joe muffled a laugh.
“Very funny.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“I’m looking out for the animals,” Hannah explained.
“I’m looking out for the humans,” Joe replied, not skipping a beat.
“Animals have rights, too.”
“Yeah, they have the right to be delicious.” Joe dropped his head and using his index finger and thumb, rubbed his temple and shook his head side to side. “I get it now. You’re an animal rights activist. You people staged a protest to coincide with the Super Bowl.”
“I am an animal activist, and I’m very proud to be one.”
“I bet you are,” Joe said under his breath.
“I heard that,” Hannah huffed. After a few beats of silence, she asked, “What are you here for?”
“To procure a weapon. Zoos keep rifles on hand in case an animal escapes.”
“Procure? I doubt it. You’re here to steal a weapon.”
“I’m not going to debate you on semantics. I need a weapon. End of discussion.”
“You’d shoot a defenseless animal caged all its life? You’re despicable.”
“Lady, those ‘defenseless,’” Joe made air quotes around the word, “animals have razor-sharp six-inch claws. The cuddly polar bear is an example. Male lions could take your entire head in their jaws and crush your skull, so to answer your question, yes, I’d shoot a defenseless animal. You happy now?”
“Regardless,” Hannah said. She refused to make eye contact with Joe. “Those animals shouldn’t be cooped up in a tiny space.”
“I actually agree with you on that point.”
“You do?” Hannah scooted to the edge of the seat, excited she had possibly found a kindred soul.
Joe nodded.
“Good, then you can help me unlock some more cages.”
“Whoa, hold on a minute, lady.” Joe shifted in his seat. “Don’t tell me you’ve already unlocked cages.”
Hannah flicked her gaze at Joe, then quickly back to her lap. “I might have, umm—”
A loud thump and the shrill of scraping claws on metal interrupted Joe and Hannah’s banter. Footsteps clicked on the roof of the van.
Then another thump, and the van rocked.
Hannah was wild eyed, her heart pumping fast.
Joe scanned the area outside the van.
“What was that?” Hannah asked.
“Shhh. Quiet. Don’t move.”
Joe glanced at the ceiling. It groaned and creaked, protesting the weight of the large animal perched on top. Joe mentally filed though his brain on what type of animal could move fast enough and jump high eno
ugh while not being detected in the waning light.
For several minutes, the only sound emanating from the van was Hannah’s heart battering her chest wall. If it beat any faster, she’d pass out.
With a hard push, the animal used the roof as a springboard and loped away. Joe tracked it as the animal disappeared into the night. He estimated it weighed upwards of eighty pounds. The muzzle was long and dog-shaped, its eyes close set. Its fur was dark and thick, except for the face and butt area.
“Holy crap!” Joe said, turning to face Hannah. “You let out the baboons?” It was more of an angry statement than a question.
Hannah didn’t answer.
“Say something,” Joe growled.
“I suppose I did,” Hannah meekly replied.
“Anything else I should know about?”
“Possibly the lions and wolves. I can’t be sure because I unlocked any door I could find. Maybe gorillas too, I, uh…” She swallowed. “I’m not sure.”
“Leopards?” Joe asked.
“Yes,” Hannah squeaked.
“Hyenas?”
“Yes.”
“What about the animals in the petting zoo?” Joe asked. “All the baby lambs and goats. They have rights too.” Joe feigned indignance.
“Oh no, I wouldn’t let them out. They’d get eaten.” Hannah sat straight in the seat, proud of her commitment to the animals.
“You left them in there to starve?”
“Of course not. What kind of person do you think I am?”
Joe kept his thoughts to himself regarding what he thought about Hannah. He knew her type. “So why didn’t you let them go?”
“I didn’t let them out because I’m feeding them.”
“This keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?” Joe shook his head in disbelief.
“And since you’re here, you could escort me back into the zoo so I can feed the baby animals.”
“Not on your life,” Joe said.
“You have to go in there to get a gun, so I’ll tag along. I’ll be as quiet as a baby mouse.”
“I don’t like mice. Do you know how much damage they can cause if they get in your house?”
“Whatever,” Hannah huffed. “You won’t even know I’m there. Once you have your gun, of course I’ll have to insist it’s not loaded while you’re escorting me to the petting zoo area. I wouldn’t want it to go off accidentally.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Lady—”
“Hannah is my name.”
“Hannah, I’ll be lucky to get in and out without being eaten alive by one of those wild animals you released. Besides, I need to locate the weapons, and I don’t need you tagging along and slowing me down.”
“I won’t slow you down.”
“And why not, pray tell?”
“Because I know exactly where they are.”
Joe’s interest piqued. Maybe Ms. Animal Rights activist wasn’t so bad after all. He gave her a once over, estimating she was twenty-five, about five foot seven, a hundred and thirty pounds, with legs meant to run marathons. “I have a question.”
“Shoot.” Hannah crawled into the front seat, tucked her foot under her, and swiveled to face Joe.
“Where’s the rest of your buddies?”
“You mean my colleagues who care about caged animals?”
“Yeah.”
“I got stranded here on the day it happened.”
“It was an EMP,” said Joe.
“I’ve heard of those. Science fiction crap, and I don’t believe it for a minute.
“Believe it, lady. You’re witnessing the downfall of the United States. Someone wants what we have, and the best way to achieve that is to take down the electrical grid.
Hannah thought about what Joe had said. A memory came to her, but for the time being, she kept it to herself. Instead, she said, “To answer your question, it happened when they went to dinner and never came back.” Hannah gazed off into the distance, afraid to face the truth.
“No one came back for you?”
Hannah dipped her chin to her chest. “No one.”
“Typical,” Joe said. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have a house or a boyfriend to go home to?”
“No. My parents live out-of-state, and I broke up with my boyfriend a few weeks ago. The people I thought were my friends, obviously weren’t.”
“Then why didn’t you walk home? It would have taken a while, but you could’ve made it.”
“I’m from out-of-town, so I’m stuck here. If I tried to walk home, the animals would have starved in their cages! I couldn’t let that happen. Besides, I found enough food and water to last a while until all this blows over. I’m sure the electricity will come back on at some point.”
“Don’t count on it anytime soon,” Joe said. “Hannah, listen to me. You’re going to show me where the guns and antibiotics are kept, and once I have those I’ll escort you to the petting zoo area. After you feed the animals, we should probably part ways.”
“Where will you go?” Hannah asked.
“Back to NRG.”
Hannah didn’t reply.
“Alright,” Joe said. “We need to get going while there is some light left. Once it gets dark, we’ll be sitting ducks. Get what you need and let’s go.”
Chapter 21
“Keep behind me,” Joe whispered. “And if anything happens, save yourself.”
“Nothing will happen,” Hannah replied, confident they were safe.
Hannah’s nonchalance about their situation was bugging Joe. Really bugging him. Like, if she was a bug on his arm, he would have brushed her off and let her be on her own.
“The animals are my friends.” Hannah adjusted the fanny pack so it rested against her hip.
Joe rolled his eyes, keeping his editorializing to himself. He was regretting his decision to let her tag along, because if the shit hit the fan, it was every man or woman for themselves.
Joe and Hannah exited the van and traversed through the main entrance to the zoo without any issues. Other than the turnstiles squeaking a bit, they were silent in their approach.
In the distance, the report of a rifle rang out.
Someone screamed, then fell silent again.
Joe placed one foot in front of the other, extremely careful not to make any noise or to accidentally trip or kick a bottle.
It was quiet, too quiet. About as quiet as a dinner table when a prayer was said before a meal.
Joe searched the shadows growing long at the hour. He had been wrong in his estimation regarding how long it would take him to travel between NRG Stadium and the zoo. And hadn’t planned on getting knocked out.
By car, it was no more than a twenty-minute trip if traffic wasn’t too bad, but today Joe had to fight and scratch his way to the zoo. He cursed the form he had to fill out stating he would not carry any firearms in his truck while on NRG property, specifically the parking lot. He even had to sign a waiver submitting to a search. In hindsight, he should have parked offsite and taken light rail or even walked. On the bright side, at least he didn’t have a gun in his truck to get stolen.
Joe had the distinct feeling he and Hannah were being watched, a fact that sent shivers up Joe’s spine, to his shoulders, and scalp.
“Are you cold?” Hannah asked.
“No. Scared shitless.”
“We’ll be fine. I know these animals. I’ve studied them and their habits, so you don’t need to worry.”
“Lady, I’m more than worried and you should be too. Where’s the main office?”
“At the back of the aviary. When we come to the building ahead of us, take a left, and follow me.”
Hannah and Joe walked past the building housing the reptiles. The tall trees obscured the remaining light of the day, and shadows undulated in the quiet parts of the zoo. Joe had all sorts of crazy thoughts cross his mind, like a black panther would spring out of the dark at any moment, and make a meal out of him or Hannah. The call of the Hadeda Ib
is bird, one of the most recognizable sounds from Africa, startled Joe. The loud and raucous call of the nocturnal bird, commonly used in movies to set the stage for a tense scene, made the hairs of Joe’s arm prickle. Whether a sixth sense, a foreboding, or whatever Joe was experiencing, he suddenly looked up.
An anaconda, its body double the size of Joe’s muscled biceps, dangled from a tree above him.
He roughly grabbed Hannah’s arm and jerked her away from the canopy.
“Why’dya do that?”
Joe leaned into Hannah and whispered in a low and annoyed tone, “You let the snakes out too.”
“Of course. They’d starve if I didn’t. Besides, there are plenty of rats for them to eat around here.”
“What were you thinking?” Joe’s jaw was clenched tight. “Don’t you know you’ve let out some of the most poisonous snakes in the world?”
“If you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you,” Hannah snapped.
“Like the anaconda in the tree I just saved you from?”
“What anaconda?” Hannah looked around, wondering what Joe meant. “I didn’t see any anacondas.”
“My point exactly.”
“Your mind is playing tricks on you alright,” Hannah said. “Anacondas don’t climb trees. You probably saw a vine.”
Joe opened his mouth to correct Hannah, then decided not to. At this point, he questioned her intelligence. All he needed to do was to procure a firearm, get the antibiotics then hightail it back to the stadium. Lexi’s life depended on his success, and so did Hannah’s.
Effing great.
On one hand, he couldn’t abandon Hannah to get eaten alive, on the other, he couldn’t abandon Lexi. Joe’s cool was evaporating as fast as the sweat on his back.
“Hannah, I’m not here to debate you about snakes. What you’ve done has been extremely reckless, and you’ve put my life, your life, and the countless lives of other people in danger. From here on, you do exactly as I say, or I leave you behind. Got it?”
“I suppose so.” Being contrite was not in the repertoire of Hannah’s abilities.
