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Abominable

Page 17

by Alan Nayes


  “Map out an alternate to the animal institute, maybe Santa Monica Boulevard,” he said, just wanting to deliver his charge there as soon as possible. He’d heard the ape was big but when he’d spied the humongous mass of muscle and bone being wheeled his way, he hadn’t realized the giant was that big!

  His co-driver immediately began working on a reroute.

  The radio chirped. “Can you get that?” the driver asked, noting the Primate Center’s handle. Now what?

  “I’m doing the reroute.”

  “Fine. Get us something with a straight line.”

  “This bird fly?”

  Funny. Growing more frustrated by the minute, he watched the line of cars come to a standstill. Overhead, he heard a morning traffic copter circling in the direction of the 10 freeway. Great. Now what, an accident? He reached for the mic. Fuck LA traffic.

  Very shortly, traffic congestion would be the least of his concerns.

  Shelby raced through a yellow light and sped around a florist delivery truck. She tensed her jaw muscles out of both anger and anxiety. Her cell phone rang and she pressed a key for speaker. It was Reddic.

  “They’re stuck in traffic at Wilshire and Chelsea,” he reported. “Rerouting west to Santa Monica and then they’ll try to catch the 405 south. The vets report Goliath as quiet. Appears to be sleeping.”

  He’s not. “Only a couple miles ahead. We’ll catch them.” Shelby glanced at John. “I hope I’m overreacting. Can you imagine if he—”

  John briefly watched a traffic copter overhead. “Don’t think about it. Those veterinarians deal with zoo elephants and rhinos on a daily basis. They can handle an oversized gorilla.”

  Shelby told herself to relax. “Right.”

  How bad could it really be?

  The security guard leaned closer to the observation window. “Is he supposed to be doing that?”

  Both vets, in the midst of a friendly debate about which animal species was the most intelligent, followed the guard’s pudgy finger. “Doing what? Oh, that finger twitching. That’s normal under heavy sedation,” one explained calmly. “Just exhibiting some mild hyper excitability of the nervous system. Humans do it under conscious sedation during minor procedures like a colonoscopy.”

  “Don’t remind me. Mine’s due in a few months.” The guard nodded and leaned back. He slid a panel open and spoke to the driver. “How much longer?”

  The driver indicated the blinking light way ahead. “Going to take the first left into Douglas Park and then zip north bypassing this damn signal. Won’t be long.”

  The guard stared back at the sleeping giant. He’d never seen anything so fucking scary. Straight out of a Hollywood horror special effects studio. He began to scratch an itch on his cheek and froze. Damn. Now even his limited experience told him that wasn’t normal! “Check his eyes, folks,” he stammered. “Check those fuckin’ eyes!”

  He heard the vets lean closer and abruptly stop conversing. “Shit,” one cursed. “He’s awake.” The second one rapped on the panel to the cab. “Need you to pull over ASAP. The subject is awake. Got to administer more sedation. And I can’t do it through the observation window.”

  “Damn, I’m in the middle of traffic. Give me a minute.”

  The van inched to the far left.

  Goliath shifted on the gurney, trying to swivel his head and look behind him.

  Reflexively all three—the two vets and the guard—leaned away from his line of vision as best they could. “Hurry!” one shouted. “Get the propofol loaded,” he ordered the second vet.

  The guard gripped the revolver at his side. “He’s struggling. Will those restraints hold him?”

  “They should—”

  The huge primate flexed both arms and jerked suddenly, emitting a loud gasp. The entire van rocked on its shocks. The leather over his chest and upper body ripped partway.

  “What the fuck was that?” the front passenger exclaimed. “Felt like an earthquake.”

  “What’s going on back there?” the driver shouted, finally finding an opening. The park entrance was just ahead.

  Goliath emitted a second guttural gasp and jerked again. The leather securing his arms and chest broke loose. He sat up, hitting his crown against the van’s roof. He let loose a roar. RRAAAUUU!

  The head vet shouted, “Stop the van! He’s up!” The second vet passed him the loaded anesthetic. “Call for backup! Get city animal control now!”

  “Screw animal control!” the guard said, “Get the police!”

  The driver made a sharp turn into the park, throwing them sideways. They watched as Goliath’s upper body rolled partway off the gurney, the restraints on his massive thighs still intact. In an instant he’d righted himself and, gripping the leather, he ripped the lower extremity restraints free with a sharp tearing sound that passed through the entire cab.

  “He’s loose!” the vets shouted.

  “What?” the driver and front passenger yelled.

  “The ape is fucking loose!” the security guard cried.

  Goliath crawled toward the commotion and with a huge right fist he smashed out the observation window, showering the three occupants in glass.

  Both vets twisted away from the thick grasping fingers. “Shoot him!”

  The van screeched to a stop, throwing all the occupants off balance. Goliath’s huge head crashed through the remaining fragments of glass. He hissed, spewing hot breath and saliva.

  The two veterinarians had already opened a door and were out on the pavement, the guard not so fortunate. Too panicked to effectively unholster his weapon, he’d only begun to raise and aim, staring the huge primate directly in the eyes, when Goliath grasped his shooting arm and wrenched, dislocating the arm at the shoulder with an audible pop. The guard cried out in agony, realizing he’d met his end, before dropping his eyes from the giant’s and whimpering submissively, “Please don’t.”

  Goliath growled again, but the terrified guard kept his head bowed.

  The giant backed away and with a powerful kick, smashed the rear van doors open.

  Roaring and with two beats of his mighty chest, Goliath stalked out into Douglas Park.

  Shelby sensed something terribly amiss when the barrage of sirens descended upon them.

  “More choppers,” John said, glancing at the sky.

  Reddic called, confirming her worst fears. “He’s just escaped into Douglas Park.” A pause, then, “Shelby, let the police do their job.”

  “They’ll kill him.” She disconnected, not waiting for a response. “Dammit, dammit!” She slapped her dashboard. She sped north on Wilshire until the traffic slowed her to a crawl. “Douglas Park is up there on the left.”

  John pointed. “I think I see the hospital medi-van.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” What other van would have its back doors splayed open? Fuckin’ great.

  A police cruiser, sirens blaring, approached behind her. She inched over along with the other vehicles, allowing it to pass, and when it did she cut in behind it.

  The child waved at the cloudless sky, asking his teacher, “Look, what are all those helicopters flying around here for?”

  The woman had heard all the sirens. Terrorists or a pair of crazed gunmen like Columbine were the first things that entered her mind. Just off the bus, she anxiously gathered the fourth graders around the shallow nature pool filled with ducks and cattail reeds. The bus had departed so she guessed she would lead the class to the clubhouse.

  She heard the screams just before seeing the crowd of people running like hell in her direction. Men, women, children, families with dogs, dashing across a grassy knoll near the lawn bowling greens. She watched a terrified woman carrying a young girl stumble and fall. She could hear snippets of shouts, “It’s him!”

  “The one on the news!”

  “He’s loose!”

  Feeling her anxiety ratcheting up, she herded the kids around the pond. “Why are those
people running?” one asked.

  She glanced at the activity in the sky. “Not sure, but follow me. Now don’t run, everything will be fine.”

  “Teacher, look!” several screamed in unison.

  She did. Holy fuck.

  The gargantuan white ape knuckle-walked down the grassy knoll toward them, pausing to stand and beat his chest with a loud roar.

  The teacher didn’t think twice. “Run!”

  Shelby raced for the crowd of officers organizing around their cruisers. She spotted the two veterinarians and drivers of the hospital van. “What happened?” she asked.

  The vets, hell, everyone appeared shaken. “The sedation wore off. He busted out.”

  Wore off? Hell, he was never sedated. “Anyone hurt?”

  The driver answered. “The guard’s nursing a dislocated shoulder, and some minor cuts from broken glass.”

  An officer approached. “Who are—” then registering recognition, “You’re that lady on television.”

  “I’m Dr. Hollister. Who’s in charge here?”

  The young uniform indicated a heavyset officer over by a squad car. “Sergeant Rivas.”

  Shelby dashed over to Rivas, who was on the radio. As soon as he was off, she quickly introduced herself. “He can’t be far,” she was saying, gazing over the deserted grounds. “Goliath will be frightened and trying to run. Any heavily wooded areas nearby?”

  Rivas shook his head. “Nothing wooded enough to hide an animal that big.” He checked his assault rifle and spoke into his portable mic. Shelby noticed his expression grow taut. He replaced his mic and called to the men. “Target is located at the duck pond east of the clubhouse.” He looked at Shelby. “We’ll drive, it will be faster. Climb in.”

  Shelby leaped in the passenger side and John slid into the backseat, Shelby motioning to John. “He’s with me.”

  Rivas signaled the squad to follow him, more help was on the way, saying, “Dr. Hollister, I’ve got orders to bring him down by any means necessary. Can’t take any risks. If your team is unable to incapacitate the ape with those tranquilizer rifles, and fast, we’ll have to shoot him. ”

  “Just give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking. I don’t want anyone hurt either.”

  Shelby could hear the choppers—she’d counted four already, guessed more would be circling shortly—as Rivas drove over a curb and across the grassy field. In the distance, Shelby spotted a one-story brick building near a reflecting pool across the knoll. But no Goliath. Where the hell are you, big guy? She lightly fingered the tranquilizer rifle. A deep sense of foreboding filled her chest. This wasn’t going to end well. They sped past picnic benches and a playground.

  She heard John mumble, “Shit, I see him.”

  Shelby did, too. How could she have missed that huge white hulking shape squatting near a large pine tree by the reflecting pond?

  Rivas swerved wide to drive around a screaming woman running for the pond.

  Shelby gazed closer at the giant primate. Oh my God, no, Goliath, you didn’t!

  Rivas cursed, “Well, fuck me.” Then to no one in particular, “That’s certainly a game changer.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Goliath had the young girl pinned to his massive chest like a grown man might hold a tiny kitten. Shelby guessed the child to be around four or five. Goliath’s hand was so large it covered her from upper chest all the way to her abdomen. She didn’t appear to be in any distress, not crying anyway. But she looked pale and damn scared—or in shock. Hell, who wouldn’t be?

  The crying woman they’d passed on the green had tried to rush past the police line but fortunately Shelby caught her and Rivas and another female officer were attempting to calm her, with little luck. She continued wailing, “Get my baby back! Cynthia, Mommy’s here!” The last thing they needed was a panicked human throwing herself at the great ape.

  Rivas had moved everyone back except four officers at Shelby’s request. “He’s already anxious and frightened,” she explained. “We don’t want anything to set him off with the child in his hand.” She would never forget the ease with which the giant primate had literally squeezed the guts out the mouth of an eighty-pound Siberian husky in Chitina, Alaska. She’d also suggested they back off the helicopters that continued buzzing low over the “hostage” site, causing Goliath to growl and wave his free hand angrily at the sky. That was how Rivas had called in the scene for assistance. “We have a hostage situation!”

  Yet he’d been at a loss when the command post had asked about sending in hostage negotiators, the dispatcher initially unaware they were dealing with an ape. He looked at Shelby and she’d shaken her head in agreement. “That won’t work.” If anyone was going to talk the giant into releasing the girl, it would have to be someone the primate was at least relatively familiar with. Me. And she wouldn’t be given much time. The child was priority one.

  Shelby stood about twenty-five yards from where Goliath squatted.

  John motioned to the officers that had been moved back. The men and women had positioned themselves in a wide circle around the reflecting pool. “They have him surrounded.”

  Shelby simply nodded, quickly taking in the crowd gathering beyond the perimeter line where more officers and cruisers had set up. “I need to do something fast or else Rivas is going to order shots be fired. He’s called in their SWAT team.”

  Rivas must have overheard her because he stepped away from his cruiser where he’d been on the radio and said, “No one will shoot until that child is free. Or an attack is imminent. Right now she’s just standing there with him. Can’t risk her getting hit by friendly fire.”

  Shelby added, “Plus if you don’t kill him instantly, that hand will…well, let’s not go there.”

  The two veterinarians waited with their tranquilizer rifles. And she and John had theirs, making a total of four darts—plenty of sedative to put him down. But they ran the same risk—the anesthetic ketamine would take at least thirty seconds to take effect, and that was only if they got lucky and the syringe entered directly into a vein, longer with intramuscular entry, the more likely scenario. Goliath could do a lot of damage in half a minute. Hell, he could wreak plenty of havoc in far less time than that. Also, if the child was inadvertently hit with the ketamine, the dose used for a sixteen-hundred-pound primate would surely be fatal to a forty-pound child.

  Rivas sighted through his scope. “Head shot? He’s got a skull the size of two basketballs.”

  Shelby didn’t reply. She glanced over at the mother. The woman had been calmed some by the woman officer but still appeared visibly shaken. “Give me a quick minute,” Shelby said. She cast a fast look at Goliath, who appeared to be relatively quiet—no more growling and the fist shaking had ceased once the choppers stopped dipping low and moved away. She walked across the grass. “I’m Dr. Hollister. We’re going to try to get your daughter free. How old is Cynthia?”

  The woman sniveled and wiped her eyes. “Only four. I fell and when I looked up he had her!” She began to weep.

  Shelby kept glancing back at the huge primate and the girl, speaking in a soothing tone, “What’s your name?”

  “Jill.”

  “Jill, it’s very important Cynthia not struggle. Do you think you can keep your daughter still?”

  “Just do something!” and between sobs, “I want her back with me.”

  Shelby reached out a consoling hand. “We are, but can you keep Cynthia quiet?”

  More sobs, but also a head nod. “I’ll try. I’m so afraid.”

  “Thank you. And I understand how frightened you must be. You’re holding up well under the circumstances.” Shelby took the woman’s hand. “I want you to come with me.” She began to lead her over to where Rivas and John waited with the vets.

  She resisted. “Where are you taking me?”

  Shelby indicated with her free hand. “Just over there. You’ll be closer to Cynthia. I want you daughter to see you.”


  The woman’s eyes widened, registering more fear. “What are you going to do? I want my—”

  Shelby gave her quick embrace. “I’m going to talk Goliath into letting Cynthia go.”

  Shelby inhaled and exhaled slowly, forcing her nerves to steady. If she failed, the only option would be to kill Goliath. And hope the child was not injured.

  “Good luck.” The well-wisher was Max Bonds. The NASA man’s credentials had gotten him and Astor and the SETI president uninhibited entry through the police blockade.

  “Thanks.” Shelby met Astor’s gaze—if your people hadn’t insisted on the CT we wouldn’t be in this precarious predicament—and he must have sensed the resentment in her expression because he responded, “Next time, please have Goliath adequately sedated when an examination is scheduled. The scan will be done today whether the ape is dead or alive,” adding, “And I appreciate you keeping the helicopters at bay. No one wants a reenactment of the Copper River fiasco.”

  Shelby was sorely tempted to say, “Goliath didn’t bring down that chopper,” but didn’t take the bait. Though she had to admit only to herself, after the way the huge primate had tricked the Primate Center’s experienced handlers, she was beginning to wonder just how high his intelligence quotient went. Not that she was beginning to question whether Goliath was an alien being—no, she was one hundred percent confident he was of this world—but there was something going on here she was at a loss to pinpoint. He was one damn smart primate.

  Jean Simpkins from SETI wished her success as Shelby gave John a brief good luck embrace and turned and started briskly over the green lawn toward Goliath and the child. She needed to hurry—she wanted this over—but she resisted running. She walked at a steady pace, trying to exude some semblance of control but not too much. She wanted Goliath to feel he was the one calling the shots. And to a degree he was. She could hear the mother calling out, “Cynthia, this lady is friends with Goliath and is going to come help you. Please be still, dear, and do exactly what she says. Do you understand?” For being so distraught earlier, she sounded pretty calm now. Good, Mom, keep it up.

 

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