Bill put a hand to his forehead. “Seriously, man, you gotta wake up. This shit is bad and it’s time to forget about business appointments and brunch in the city.”
“I need to get out of here. I am far too important to be missing in action. There are people who rely on me.”
“Those people are probably dead,” said Grace.
The suggestion seemed to hit home to Randall and he stood there silently, swaying back and forth slightly as his mouth moved in speechless quivers.
“I’m sorry,” said Joe, “but that’s most likely true. I think we’re alone for now. We should just count ourselves lucky that we’re alive.”
“Count yourself lucky,” Randall spat. “I don’t see it that way.”
Joe put his hands up. “Fine, but can you at least accept the situation we’re in?”
Randall moved away from the group and sat down. That was fine by Joe. The further away the piggish little man was the better. He leant back in his chair and looked at his son. “You’ve been a really good boy today, Danny. Very quiet and well behaved.”
“The animals are after us, aren’t they? They don’t want to be in cages no more.”
Joe thought about lying to the frightened boy, but didn’t. “Something has made them really mad at us,” he admitted, “but I’m going to look after you.”
“Promise?”
Joe smiled and said, “Ohhhh yeahhhhh!”
Danny laughed hard. “Macho Man!”
“That’s right. Anything that tries to hurt you will get the big elbow drop.”
Bill and Grace joined Joe and Danny at the table, attracted by the noise. “Everything okay here?” Grace asked.
“I was just telling Danny what a good boy he’s been.”
“You’re telling me!” She patted Danny on the arm. “Not a peep out of this brave warrior.”
Danny smiled. “Ultimate Warrior.”
Grace looked at Joe, confused.
“One thing to know about my son is that he’s obsessed with wrestlers from the eighties and nineties.”
“Where did he get that from?”
Joe’s cheeks flushed red. “Me.”
Grace giggled. “Nothing wrong with that. Better than being football-obsessed like most the guys I’ve met. I’m surprised you never ended up being a wrestler yourself, size you are.”
Joe looked at himself and nodded. “I think that’s why I liked it as a kid. I was bigger than everyone else and I felt like a bit of a freak, but every week I would watch these giants on TV being worshipped by millions and I wouldn’t feel so bad anymore.”
“Maybe that’s why I used to like Culture Club,” said Bill, and they all laughed.
Until the noise cut them off.
A ruckus somewhere in the building. The crashing sounds of a violent struggle. It wasn’t until they heard the shrill shrieking of monkeys that it became obvious what was happening.
“Victor,” said Joe. “The monkeys must have broken in before he had chance to secure the doors.”
Bill leapt up. “We need to get that door closed.”
Joe sprang up too. “Grace, look after Danny. Danny, I’ll be right back. Be good.”
Joe and Bill swung open the door and ran into the corridor. The chaotic noise became louder as it echoed off the walls on their approach to the stairs. They could hear Victor screaming out insults.
“Take that, yer wee bastards! I’ll break yer frickin’ necks.”
Joe took the steps downwards, twice as fast as he’d gone up them – four at a time – the impact of every stair rattling the bones in his ankles. Despite his haste, it still felt like an eternity to reach the bottom. When he did, Bill hurtling into the back of him, Joe wished he hadn’t.
The monkeys were inside.
Victor noticed Joe and Bill’s presence and spun around to face them, his back against the door. Thick scratches and ragged bite-marks covered his body. “Give me a bloody hand!” he shouted.
Joe and Bill rushed forward down the corridor, gripping the edge of one of the tables that Victor had abandoned half way down. It was heavy, and Joe wondered how on Earth the Scotsman had manoeuvred two at once. They slid the table towards the far door, which was now being forced open by two-dozen sets of razor-tipped paws. Victor was pushing back as hard as he could, trying to force it shut, but there were four monkeys already inside the entranceway and they were all lunging for him. They bit and clawed at his tattooed arms and legs, shrieking in ecstasy as they drew fresh blood from his wounds. Victor fought to ignore the pain as he concentrated on keeping the door closed.
Joe’s eyes stretched wide. The situation would not quite compute in his brain, but he knew that he needed to act right now, before Victor’s body gave out to the relentless mauling by the three monkeys.
Joe prepared himself for battle. “Time to lay the smack down on your monkey asses.” He sprinted towards Victor.
Chapter Seven
Randall didn’t know who the hell they thought they were. Talking to me like that. I could buy and sell the lot of them, yet they speak as though I’m no one. He took a tug on his inhaler, enjoying the feeling of loosening lung tissue. When all this is over, they will pay.
Randall had been sitting and watching from his position away from the group for ten minutes now, looking out of the window that ran the entire length of the wall beside him. The view outside was unusual to say the least, but it lent credence to what the others had all been saying. Things were bad.
The number of dead bodies scattered outside on the zoo’s various pathways must have numbered fifty or more. There were slimy morsels of flesh littering the area like grizzly lawn ornaments, and even severed limbs. The corpses all wore grim expressions of agony, as though their final thoughts had been frozen onto their torn faces forever. It was all very interesting. It was obvious that something quite fundamental in the universe had changed, gone off kilter. Only those willing to adapt would be able to cope with whatever lay ahead. Randall planned on being one of those people.
The animals outside milled about the zoo with purpose and determination that should have been alien to lesser species. Grouping together in what seemed to be a search and destroy mission, sniffing out all corners for people that still lived. But there were no people left that Randall could see and the search seemed to be coming to an end. He watched a threesome of raggedy hyenas congregate next to a pack of what looked like wild, oversized housecats. There were many other creatures that he could not name along with the more obvious species like camels, zebras, and various species of deer. Animals had never been of much interest to Randall, and collecting them all together in a park, so that little brats could poke and prod at them, seemed ridiculous to him.
Better to just put them down than enslave them. Especially the dangerous ones. People must be mad to keep a bunch of lions around. Just look at the situation it caused today.
Randall lent over on his chair, tilting towards the nearest bookcase. He plucked a hardback book from the shelf and dropped his chair back onto four legs. There was nothing about this situation that Randall liked. He decided the best thing to do while he was stuck here was to learn a bit about the animals. Maybe then he could do something useful if they attacked again. He turned the first page of the book in front of him and started reading, oblivious to Victor’s screams that had just started from the floor below.
Chapter Eight
Joe could not believe he had just struck a monkey in the face. It had jumped up and clawed itself onto Victor’s neck, was just about to draw blood when Joe wound up and threw a heavy right hand. The blow stung his fist and sent it numb, but hurt the monkey more. The primate lay unconscious now on the floor, twitching and staring up at the ceiling like a punch-drunk boxer.
The other three monkeys were already taking its place though and Victor kicked out at them as he struggled to hold the door closed. "Get these bloody things away from me!”
Bill came up behind Joe, pushing the table in front of him. “You h
elp Victor and I’ll get this up against the door.”
Victor continued to kick out at the monkeys in front of him. They hissed and swiped back at him with their blood-stained claws. Joe swung his leg at them, but they moved just in time and Joe found himself kicking his foot through thin air. He lost balance, swinging his arms to steady himself.
One monkey seized on the opportunity and leapt at his arm as though it were a tree branch, clinging on with sharp-nailed hands and feet whilst at the same time wrapping its wiry tail around his bicep. Joe shook like crazy, but the animal stayed put, dug in even harder with its nails. Joe thought he might pass out from the pain, and only just managed to step aside as Bill came up fast with the table behind him, sliding it along the corridor.
“Out the way!” Bill rammed the table against the door, Victor having to hop up over it. Once on the other side Victor helped Bill push the table tighter against the door. The two of them slammed it hard against the wood and, finally, it closed shut.
Joe screamed out for them to help him. “This thing is gonna rip my goddamn arm off!”
Victor stomped towards Joe, covered in his own blood, with a look of pissed-off determination on his face. He deftly dodged the other two monkeys blocking his path and made straight for the third. The one wrapped around Joe’s arm.
Victor snarled, “Bloody oversized rats,” and suddenly pulled a nasty-looking knife from somewhere on his person as if he were performing a magic trick. “Time to get busy, Martha,” he said to the knife, then, without a moment’s thought, he casually slit the monkey’s throat. It fell limply from Joe’s arm, hit the floor silently, and quivered as blood streamed from its body.
Joe stumbled away, clutching his arm. Weeping gashes covered his flesh, but none seemed too deep to deal with. He looked around the corridor and immediately spotted the other two monkeys. “Quick, we have to get the others.”
Victor shoved Joe back, holding his knife out in front of him. “You two get back upstairs. Me and Martha can handle it from here.”
Joe went to argue, but Bill put a hand on his chest and eased him away. “Let’s get your arm looked at. I don’t have the stomach for this.”
If Joe was honest, he didn’t either, and he avoided looking back as he made his way up the staircase. The wet stabbing sounds and animalistic shrieking was enough to turn his stomach inside out.
Once upstairs, Joe couldn’t stop shaking. Neither he nor Bill talked about what was happening downstairs – or how calmly Victor had brandished a knife – Did he call it Martha? How very psychopath-ish.
I should be thankful of the guy, really, Joe thought. He’s doing a job no one else would want to do. Probably saved my arm too. Still like to know where he got that knife from though. Has he been carrying it the whole time?
Joe had a bad feeling, but it wasn’t worth worrying about for now. He re-entered the seminar room and sat with Grace. Danny, Bill, and Mason were there also. Randall and Shirley sat away from the group – Randall with his head buried in a book. Shirley gazing out of the window. Joe placed his hand on top of Grace’s. “Thanks for looking after Danny,” he said.
She smiled. “I think he was the one looking after me. I was worried.”
“Really,” said Joe. “Worried about me?”
Grace’s cheeks went red. “Yeah. Bill too of course.”
Joe nodded. “Oh. Well, we’re both okay, luckily.”
“What happened down there?” Mason enquired.
“There were some monkeys that got inside.”
“Crab-eating macaques,” said Mason.
Joe raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“They’re crab-eating macaques. If they’re the same ones that were at the staff room window, that is. Not usually dangerous, but a large group of them can get into a frenzy.”
Joe nodded. “Okay, well, these…macaques…had nearly gotten the door open when we got there and there were several already in the corridor. They were attacking Victor when we got there. Luckily we managed to get it closed again and secured it with the tables.”
“What happened to the macaques that had already gotten inside?” Mason asked.
Joe glanced at Bill, who looked away sheepishly. Joe didn’t feel the need to freak everyone out with the gory details. Victor had just done what needed to be done. “Well, erm…Victor sorted them out. Managed to grab them and throw them back through a gap in the door while we held it open a crack.”
Grace was next. “What’s Victor doing now?”
Bill answered. “He’s securing the door some more. Making sure it’s nice and solid.”
Everyone seemed satisfied with their version of events, so Joe changed the subject. “Do we have anything for my arm?” He looked down at Danny, who had put his head into his hands when he’d seen his father’s blood. He whispered, “I don’t want Danny upset. The wounds look worse than they are.”
Mason slid back his chair and stood up. “Of course. I apologise for the delay. I should be able to find a first aid kit in one of the labs.”
“Labs?”
“Yes. We are in the zoo’s research wing, after all. There are several laboratories, for testing and examinations, as well as a veterinary surgery that is used to treat the animals here. Unfortunately, none of the vets are in today.”
Grace laughed. “Think we’ll have to play doctors and nurses ourselves then.”
Mason smiled back, but the gesture was strained. “Quite.”
Joe watched Mason walk away and hugged his son around the shoulders with his good, uninjured arm. “I’m gonna be okay, buddy. Just a few scratches.”
Danny didn’t lift his head from his arms, and Joe wondered whether he was sobbing. “How can you look after me,” he mumbled, “if you can’t look after yourself?”
It hurt Joe to hear his son had such little faith in him, but it was probably warranted given the circumstances. Joe continued patting him on the back as he spoke. “Even heroes get hurt, Danny. How about when the Warrior had a curse put on him by Papa Shango? Or when Macho Man got bitten by a snake?”
Danny lifted his head slightly then put it back down. “Or when the Model Rick Martel blinded Jake the Snake with his cologne?”
“Exactly,” said Joe. “They all got hurt, but it didn’t stop them, did it? I’m still fighting, and I’m still going to protect you.”
Finally, Danny looked up. He gave a smile, but his face didn’t wear it correctly amongst the tears.
“Don’t cry, Danny,” said Grace. “Your dad is a hero. He’s been saving people all day. Nothing will happen to you with him around.”
Danny giggled. “Do you like my dad?”
Grace blushed.
Joe saved her the agony of answering. “Danny! Don’t ask people questions like that.”
Danny’s laughter turned sour. “Sorry, Dad.”
Joe tousled his hair. “Okay. No problem, buddy.”
At that moment, the door swung open and Victor stepped through. He was no longer covered by blood except for the staining on his clothes. Everyone in the room was quiet, but he didn’t seem to notice their reaction. “All done down there,” he chirped. “Those hairy bastards shouldn’t be able to get through any time soon.”
Joe suddenly felt increasingly protective of his son in Victor’s presence, but tried not to show it. “Great!” he said. “We all owe you one.”
“How did you get the blood off you?” asked Bill, eyeing the man’s multiple scratches.
Victor grinned, teeth showing like rows of daggers. “Magic!”
Bill frowned.
“No,” Victor said. “I grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and sprayed myself clean. Stung like buggery, but luckily it was all scratches and nothing nasty.”
“Same here,” said Joe, examining his own shallow wounds.
Before anybody said anything else, Mason entered the room.
“Couldn’t find a first aid kit?” Joe enquired when he noticed the man wasn’t carrying anything.
Ma
son shook his head and seemed lost for a moment. “Huh? Oh, I got distracted. I…I think you should all come and see this.”
Joe stood up. Whatever Mason had seen was not going to be good news.
Chapter Nine
“What are they doing?” Joe looked around at the rows of cages that lined the laboratory on all sides. “They’ve gone insane!”
“No shit,” said Victor. “Was that not clear to you, pal?”
Joe ignored the comment, mainly because he was so horrified by what he was seeing. Dozens of small animals, trapped within cages, were hurling themselves against the steel bars, screeching furiously as they bled and bruised. The noise was deafening, made worse by the incessant clanging of the bars being struck by frantic bodies. Worst of all was the smell of shit hanging in the air like a thick, cloying weight.
“What are they doing, Dad?” asked Danny.
“I don’t know,” Joe replied, still staring at the various species of frenzied rodents and small mammals. “I think you better go back to the other room with Grace while we figure this out.”
Grace obliged without complaint and took Danny’s hand, leading him back out of the room. Joe stepped further inside and joined up with the others, who were already deep in conversation around an aluminium operating table in the centre of the room.
Bill was talking the loudest. “They’re gonna smash their own skulls in just to get at us!”
“I know,” said Mason, cringing as the intense racket grew even louder. “In fact I think some of the smaller animals are already dead.”
Sure enough, Joe spotted a couple of dead rabbits in a nearby cage, skulls smashed in and leaking pink and grey sticky fluid. He swallowed, trying to stem the bile rising in his stomach. “What could cause them to act like this?”
Mason shrugged. “There is nothing in recorded science that could override an animal’s instinct to survive – at least not on a mass scale. Even rabid dogs wouldn’t smash their own skulls in blind rage.”
Animal Kingdom: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel Page 5
