Animal Kingdom

by Iain Rob Wright

  Joe acknowledged his selfishness. If he’d been hurt then Danny would be all alone in this fucked-up situation. What the hell was he thinking, running around out there like Joe-the-lion-tamer? He couldn’t risk leaving Danny alone again.

  I won’t.

  “Mind if I wake him?” he asked.

  Grace laughed. The sound was delicate and fragile. “He’s your son. Be my guest.”

  Joe knelt beside Danny and gently shook one of his tiny legs. “Hey, little dude! You awake?”

  Danny opened his eyes slowly, pupils widening gradually like ink stains on cloth.

  “Everything is okay now,” said Joe. “Daddy’s back.”

  Danny smiled and closed his eyes again as if wanting to get back to some wonderful dream. He muttered under his breath, “Can I stay here with Grace?”

  Joe raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Danny to form bonds so quickly – not since the divorce – but he supposed it couldn’t hurt. Joe looked up at Grace. “That okay?”

  Grace nodded. “Sure. Could kind of do with a rest myself.”

  “There’s a quiet-room on the right,” said Mason, approaching from down the corridor with walkie talkie still in hand. “It’s where we put visitors when they’re not feeling well. There’s a sofa-bed inside.”

  “Excellent!” said Grace, her face lighting up like a beacon. “Come on, Danny.”

  Joe watched the girl lead his son to the room on the opposite side of the corridor before disappearing inside. For some reason, he trusted her, and relaxed knowing that Danny was in her care. Maybe it was the feeling of having a women’s support that made him feel that way.

  Mason placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “I couldn’t reach anyone.”

  Joe raised his eyebrows. “No one at all?”

  Mason’s stiff expression gave nothing away about his feelings, but Joe had a feeling the man was beginning to crack. Slender creases at the corners of his eyes seemed to widen as he spoke. “There are a dozen zoo keepers here today and they all carry walkie talkies – just like this one. Not one of them is picking up however. I can’t imagine what that means.”

  “I can,” said Joe, “and it’s not a nice thing to think about. You tried phoning anyone outside the zoo?”

  Mason shook his head. “That was what I was going to do next. There are phones in the offices upstairs. I should be able to call right through to the administration building at the rear entrance. Office staff don’t generally work the weekends, but there’s usually one or two people there on a Saturday. Mr Randall said he was here this morning for a meeting, so perhaps the members of the board are around too. They may be able to shed some light on the current situation.”

  “Good,” said Joe, scratching the stubble on his chin. It seemed to have grown inches in just the last hour. “What about the building we’re in? Can we get out any other way than the door we came through?”

  “There’s a fire exit at the end of this corridor and we can also enter the cafeteria, which has several more exits. I don’t know if it would be wise to try to leave, however.”

  Joe looked up and down the corridor, taking in the images of the frightened strangers. In addition to the rude investor, Mr Randall, there was also an elderly woman with grey hair sitting next to a heavily tattooed, bald man. It was a strange sight to see such opposites placed side-by-side.

  “I think I agree,” Joe said after some consideration. “My son and I are going nowhere until those lions are dealt with.”

  Mason adjusted his spectacles. “We should get everyone assembled and come up with a plan, even if it’s only to sit and wait for rescue.”

  “Agreed,” said Joe. “Is there somewhere more comfortable we can all go? I don’t think people will be able to calm themselves down in this corridor.”

  Mason took Joe’s arms and led him a little down the corridor. “There’s a staffroom in this part of the building. It’s a large area with enough places to sit and a few refreshments. I’d say it would be best to reconvene there for now. We can always move upstairs later if we need to. The building is pretty much empty, today being the weekend. They’ll be plenty of room. In fact, I think we’re the only ones here.”

  “Let’s get going then.”

  Mason clapped his hands together and got the attention of the other shell-shocked survivors. “Okay everyone, can I have your attention.”

  Silence from everyone. Glazed expressions and teary cheeks. From the other side of the exit door, the wet smacking sounds of lions feeding on corpses could be heard in vivid detail. Mason continued, despite the lack of audience response. “We are going to follow this corridor down to its end and enter a staffroom beyond. It is comfortable there, warm and safe. We should gather whilst we wait to learn more about this…situation.”

  “And what is the situation?” asked the Black man with the grey sideburns. He was still carrying his dented fire extinguisher.

  “We don’t know,” Mason answered. “Obviously there has been a breach in the lion exhibit’s enclosure, but as to how that happened, I do not know. I will try to contact the administration building shortly – and the emergency services of course – but first we need to get ourselves situated.”

  “Who are you to give orders?” It was the investor, Randall, again. The man’s mood had obviously not improved.

  “I am no one to give orders,” Mason calmly told him, “but as the only one offering practical advice, I see no harm in having people do as I say for the time being.”

  “If you hadn’t allowed this to happen in the first place then I would have a little more trust to afford to you, my friend.”

  “Mr Randall, if you feel better blaming me personally I am happy for you to do so, but my advice is that we group together somewhere more comfortable. If you or anybody else does not wish to follow that advice then you are free to do as you like. Those that do wish to follow my suggestion may come with myself and Joe, who may I remind you was the one that helped a majority of you in the first place.”

  “If that’s your advice,” said the Black man. “Then that’s what I’ll do. I don’t see the point in all this negativity and arguing.” The last comment was directed at Randall who seemed less than impressed at being called out.

  “Let’s go then,” said Joe. “I’ll get Grace and my son and we’ll be off in five.”

  A heavy thud rattled the thick red door behind them on its hinges. The lions were trying to break through into the corridor.

  Joe’s eyes widened. “Or maybe we should get going right now.”

  Chapter Four

  Randall could not believe he was running down a corridor to get away from lions. It was the biggest screw-up he had ever known, and when it was all over this dump of a zoo would pay for it. To think he had actually provided obscene amounts of cash to improve the facilities here. Positive publicity, his marketers had claimed. What a load of rubbish. He’d be claiming back every penny now and more. The place could rot for all he cared.

  “This is ridiculous,” said Randall – wheezing heavily – to a bald, tattooed man running alongside him. “Don’t they have…guns here…or…something in place to control animals when they…get loose?”

  “Tell me about it!” The man replied in a thick Scottish accent. The word about sounded like a-boot from the man’s uncouth mouth. “They must be running the place with a bunch of wee ten-year-olds. Someone is gonna be knee-deep in bother when this is over, mark me words.”

  Randall sniggered. “You can say that again, my friend.”

  The shambling group of survivors slowed down at the end of the corridor and the idiot-curator turned to face them all. “Okay everyone, once we get inside we should barricade the doors right away. I don’t think I need to tell you why.” The man paused so that they could all listen to the banging coming from the door down the corridor behind them. Randall didn’t appreciate the dramatics, but kept his silence as the man continued. “Once that is done, we can all do our best to relax while I try to contact the auth
orities.”

  No one spoke and Randall didn’t blame them. What was there to say in a ridiculous situation like this? And to take orders from one of the men responsible for it made things all the more worse.

  The curator pushed open the door at the end of the corridor and stood aside whilst people filed into the room ahead. Randall listened to the erratic thudding, getting louder behind them, and was confused. Could lions really behave like this? Smashing through doors to get at people when they had devoured several bodies already? It can’t be hunger, he thought.

  The tattooed man beside Randall patted him on the back. “They best have a kettle in there, pal. I could kill a brew.”

  Randall took exception to being touched by the rough-looking man, and also to being called “pal”. He didn’t acknowledge his disapproval, however, because he was next in line to enter the staffroom ahead. Randall stepped through and entered a large blue-carpeted room that featured several sets of brand-new tables and chairs, several vending machines, two pool tables, and a modest kitchenette. The room was backed by a long, horizontal window that ran the entire length of the wall.

  Is this what my money paid for? Somewhere for staff to laze about? Maybe they should have spent the money on better security for the animal enclosures. Then I wouldn’t be suing them into bankruptcy.

  Randall found a seat and placed himself down while the rest of the group seated themselves. It felt good to take the weight off his feet, and gave him a chance to use his inhaler to get his asthma under control. It would not do to wait around idle for too long however. He had somewhere important to be. The head of one of the China’s biggest tire manufacturers would be waiting on him to discuss an investment in their UK strategy. It was just one more industry that the Chinks were planning to monopolise, and Randall decided it was better to get into bed with them than to resist. It could cost Randall millions if he missed the meeting. There was a long line of other investors eager to make the deal if he didn’t. Lions or no lions, Randall had to get out of there.

  I’ll spare ten more minutes, then enough is enough.

  The curator stepped into the room along with his giant blond accomplice that had been rude to Randall earlier. A young brunette girl and a small boy with a tatty backpack also accompanied them. He was pretty sure that the boy belonged to the blond man.

  The curator pushed closed the door, turned the lock, and faced the group. “This door is not especially heavy,” he said, “so I think it would be wise to slide one of the pool tables in front of it. Do I have any volunteers?”

  Yeah right! Randall scoffed. Don’t expect me to start lugging furniture around for you.

  There were a few volunteers but Randall paid them no mind. The only concern he had right now were the ticking hands on his Omega watch. Each second could be costing him money.

  Several minutes passed, the aimless fools just managing to push one of the pool tables up against the door. Unbelievably, they had started playing a game on the other one.

  What do they think this is? Break Time?

  “Right!” The curator cleared his throat and addressed everyone again. “Now that we have secured our safety, I should introduce myself. My name is Mason and I work here at the zoo. Unfortunately, I have no more knowledge of the current events than anybody else. I will, however, be going upstairs shortly to use one of the office phones to try and contact somebody. Before that, might I ask if anyone has a cell phone?”

  The group looked around themselves, but no one answered. Randall could have said ‘yes’, but wasn’t about to offer up his possessions to anyone.

  Mason raised an eyebrow above his spectacles. “Really? No one has one? I thought the whole world had mobile phones these days?”

  “Yeah,” added a Black man with grey sideburns who looked like Bill Cosby. He was holding up a piece of shattered plastic with various wires hanging out of it. “But mine got pretty bashed up during the attack, as you can see. I tried making a call, but the thing won’t even switch on anymore.”

  The young girl spoke. “I had one in my bag. My bag is outside. I think we all just ran for our lives, without really thinking about our belongings.”

  Not me. Randall smirked. Too bad the rest of you are unorganised idiots. I made sure to keep a hold of my possessions.

  Mason nodded thoughtfully and then shrugged. “A shame, but not much we can do about it now. Okay, I’ll go try to find some answers for everyone.”

  “Make sure you find them in the next five minutes,” said Randall, using the commanding tone that he had perfected throughout years of boardroom conflicts.

  Mason sighed. “Mr Randall, I do not wish to do battle with you again. Please try to see-”

  “No, you try to see how much this zoo has caused us all an inconvenience. None of us should be sitting here right now, in danger. You need to remedy this situation immediately – and I mean immediately.”

  “Yeah!” The agreement came from the bald tattooed man. “This has gone way beyond a bloody joke, pal!”

  Mason sighed once more and Randall was sure the man was defeated. “I implore you to be patient and in return I will do my upmost to get this situation resolved as quickly as possible. I can only do my best to make sense of things. For now the only place we know that is safe is here, inside this building. I’ll go now and try to make contact with someone in authority.”

  Randall relaxed back in his chair and smiled like a fox after dinner. “See that you do, my friend.” Despite the curator’s obvious skill in keeping a straight face, Randall could see tiny rivulets of irritation soaking into the man’s expression. It pleased Randall.

  “Afterwards,” Randall added, “I would request that everyone give me their contact details. I will be taking this establishment to court and anyone that wishes to join me in that pursuit will be most welcome.”

  “I’m with ya, pal,” the tattooed man replied.

  “As am I,” said a middle-aged woman with wispy grey hair and bifocals that Randall had not noticed before. “Someone has to be punished.”

  Randall couldn’t help but grin. Splendid. Looks like I have a nice foundation for my case already. The more angry voices in a courtroom the better.

  “Why you gotta be such a dick, man?” It was the Black man, standing by the pool table, cue in hand. “Can’t you see the trouble we’re in? People are dead and all you can think about is your damn self.”

  Who the hell does he think he is to question me?

  “I live in a world where people are held accountable for their actions,” said Randall. “Sorry if the notions of right and wrong are beyond someone like you.”

  The Black man scrunched up his face and stepped away from the pool table. “The hell that supposed to mean?”

  Randall sighed. “Work it out, Cosby.”

  Before Randall got a reply, the large blond man entered the conversation. “Let’s not pick at each other, okay? Mason has gone upstairs to try to make a phone call and shed some light on the situation. The rest of us should just keep ourselves occupied. Look,” the man pointed one of his giant arms across the room, “there’s a television in the corner.”

  He was right, Randall noted. Perched on a pair of wall brackets at the far corner of the room was a brand new LCD TV.

  Another extravagance I paid for. Jesus wept!

  “Okay,” Randall conceded. “Television sounds like a good idea, but let’s just put the news on. None of that daytime talk show drivel.”

  “Fine,” the big man replied, bounding off towards the television set on legs that seemed unnaturally tall. It was far away from where Randall was sitting, but big enough that he would still be able to see. When the blond man managed to find the remote and switch it on, it showed only a blue screen at first, but after a couple of moments, pressing buttons and flipping through several channels of empty static, a grainy picture finally appeared.

  “The reception is really bad,” said the blond man, “but I think it’s the news. It’s certainly not Jeremy Kyle
.”

  “Yeah, it’s a news report alright,” Cosby added needlessly. “I recognise the journalist, Jane Hamilton.”

  Everyone sat quietly as the news updates flashed various images from around the UK. It seemed that it wasn’t just the zoo that was having troubles.

  “Holy shit!” Cosby cried out. “I can’t believe it.”

  If Randall was honest, he couldn’t quite believe it either. “Interesting,” he said out loud, wondering what it all could mean. “Very interesting.”

  Chapter Five

  Joe couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The flickering news report showed animal attacks from all over the country – images of Hyde Park overrun by snarling dogs of numerous breeds, and, even more bizarrely, a pack of crazed squirrels attacking a baby in its pram outside Manchester’s Trafford Centre. Next came scenes from the countryside – of farm animals ripping a man to shreds as he failed to reach the safety of his dust-covered Range Rover. Sheep, cows, and even pigs were roaming the fields and roadsides like Nazi-death-squads, with what looked like morsels of human flesh hanging from their jaws. Every scene was different, but they all had one thing in common – animals were attacking people. It didn’t matter how big or how small, anything with fur, claws, or fangs was seemingly possessed by a malevolent rage directed solely at the human race. Dogs, cats, and mice, to sheep, cows, and pigs – all were united in their quest to kill. Whatever was going on right now, it wasn’t just isolated to the zoo.

  “This can’t be happening,” said Joe, as the television switched to similar scenes from various locations in Europe. Helsinki was currently under siege from a band of rampaging bears, while Paris was fighting off a plague of rats emerging from its vast sewers. “God help us.”

  “I don’t think God is watching,” said Grace, who had picked Danny up into her arms to keep him from looking at the images.

  Joe shook his head, unable to take his eyes away from the screen. “I don’t understand any of this.”