by Greg Cox
And taking even more chances.
The other apes’ peculiar way of talking with their fingers baffled Bad Ape, but he understood that Rocket and Maurice intended to free Caesar and their other friends, despite his warnings to stay away from the camp. Bad Ape wished the prisoners could be saved, too, but trying to find a way into the camp was not smart. It was a bad idea. Bad, bad, bad.
Why won’t they listen to me?
A scrabbling noise, along with the sound of falling dirt, made him spin around to check on the human girl, whom Maurice had asked Bad Ape to look after. His eyes bulged in alarm as he saw the child climbing the rope ladder back toward the surface. Snowflakes fell from above, drifting past her. She craned her neck to look up at the cloudy morning sky beyond the pit.
“No, no, no!” He rushed to the ladder, crying out to her. “No climb!”
But, like the other apes, the girl didn’t listen to him. She clambered up the ladder, almost as agilely as any ape child, and climbed out of the pit, leaving Bad Ape flustered and distraught at the bottom of the ladder. He clutched his head and paced around the hole, torn as to what to do.
Do I stay down here? Do I go get her? What if the bad humans see her? What if they see me?
He still wasn’t entirely sure why the other apes had a human child, but he knew she wasn’t safe up there by herself, which meant he had no choice.
Maurice told me to watch her…
Muttering unhappily, he reluctantly climbed the ladder after her. He emerged from the pit to find the girl standing nearby, staring up at the falling snow with a look of wonder on her face. Transfixed by the snow, she seemed oblivious to all else, lost in her own world. She opened her mouth to let the flakes land on her tongue. Belatedly noticing Bad Ape’s arrival on the surface, she turned and offered him a slight smile.
Bad Ape was charmed despite his fears. Relaxing slightly, now that he saw that the girl had not gone far, he mimicked her by sticking out his own tongue as well. Leaning back against a boulder, he enjoyed the amusing sensation of the wet snowflakes dissolving on his tongue. Grinning, he turned toward her, his tongue protruding comically from his muzzle.
See, he thought. I can play this game too.
But she was not looking at him or the sky anymore. Instead she was squinting at something beyond the fallen boulders that shielded them from view. Worried, he crept forward to see what she was looking at, while hoping against hope that none of the bad humans would spot them.
“What?” he whispered. “What you see…?”
She didn’t answer, of course. Bad Ape had already figured out that the girl couldn’t talk for some reason. Following her stare, he saw that she was squinting at one of the gaps in the giant wall guarding the prison camp. She squeezed forward through the rocks, trying to get a better look at whatever had caught her interest. A gray, overcast sky hung over the frozen expanse between them and the camp. The falling snow also made it hard to see very far.
An idea struck Bad Ape.
“Stay!” he told her. “Stay here!”
Hoping she would be a good human child and not go anywhere, he scrambled back to the pit and hurried down the ladder to retrieve the binoculars. Carrying them back up to the surface, he was relieved to see that the girl was still staring through the gap in the wall, a worried expression on her dirty, hairless face. He held out the binoculars to her, nodding in encouragement.
She didn’t understand at first, regarding the glasses with bewilderment, but then she reached out tentatively and took them from his hand. He smiled in approval as she lifted the binoculars to her eyes, as she had seen the apes do, and looked back at the distant camp.
Where Caesar hung limply upon the cross.
23
This is as far as we go, Rocket thought. Or is it?
Their exploration of the underground tunnel had reached a dead end. Tons of poured concrete blocked the way ahead and, unlike the rubble he and Maurice had dug through to get this far, the solid concrete was obviously impassable. It would take picks and drills or explosives to tunnel any further. The weary apes paused to assess the setback.
Probably caught the humans trying to escape, Maurice signed. Filled it in.
Rocket nodded. He wondered how many sick humans had managed to escape the detention center before the guards sealed off the tunnel—and how long they had managed to survive outside the prison walls.
Not long, he guessed. Pushing such somber ruminations aside, he glanced around the blocked tunnel, trying to estimate how far they had traveled beneath the earth. It was difficult to judge the distance without any landmarks to position themselves, not even the sun. He could only chart their course by instinct and memory.
Must be under the camp by now, he signed.
But where? Maurice asked.
The orangutan turned the flashlight beam on the ceiling. He looked speculatively at Rocket, who climbed up Maurice’s shaggy back and set to work clawing at the tunnel roof. His fingers were already raw and tired from clearing their way through the tunnel, but Rocket did not let that stop him. Caesar needed him. Their people needed him.
And the only way in was up.
Unfortunately, they were too deep below the earth to make this an easy task. Hours passed as Rocket dug upward through the hard, frozen soil, inch by inch, foot by foot, until at last he was practically standing on top of Maurice’s shoulders to reach the top of the shaft he had excavated. The hefty orangutan bore Rocket’s weight stoically, without complaint, even though Rocket knew that the burden had to be wearing on his friend. Dire possibilities weighed on Rocket’s own mind as he worked. What if they were digging in the wrong place, directly under the depot’s foundation? Or in plain view of a guard tower? There was no way to tell what exactly was above them at this particular spot. It was very possible that all his efforts would result in failure—or worse.
No. Don’t think like that.
Still, he was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to reach the surface when a slurry of ice and gravel spilled from above, showering down upon the apes’ heads and shoulders. Faint sunlight penetrated the tunnel through a small hole at the top of the shaft; muffled noises filtered down from the camp.
Yes! Rocket thought. We did it!
He stopped digging immediately for fear of attracting attention from any nearby soldiers. They needed to know where precisely they had broken through and how far they were from Caesar and the others. Rocket glanced down briefly at Maurice before peering cautiously up through the hole.
The first thing he saw was a rusted metal pole looming against a gray winter sky. Blinking, it took Rocket a moment to identify the pole as a train signal switch leftover from the days when the railway tracks had still been in use. Rocket remembered trains; he had been transported to the primate shelter in one, many years ago, caged and boxed up like freight. He didn’t miss them.
Rocket shifted his position on Maurice to find different angles of view. From what he could tell, they were in an exposed area of the prison yard, looking out through a hole in the gravel between two rusty iron train tracks. Armed soldiers loitered nearby, oblivious to the apes lurking practically beneath their feet.
That’s it, Rocket silently urged the humans. Don’t look down.
* * *
The sun was sinking behind the mountains, but the girl kept looking at the camp through the binoculars. Bad Ape wondered what she was seeing at the bad place.
Nothing good, he was sure.
He was tempted to take the binoculars away from her, so that she wouldn’t have to see the terrible things happening in the camp, but then she finally put them down.
Good, Bad Ape thought. Children, even human children, should not see bad things. Noting the concerned, preoccupied look on the girl’s face, he could tell that what she had seen had already affected her. All the more reason, he decided, to steer her back down into the pit where the other apes were. They would be safer there, hidden from sight, and the girl wouldn’t be able to spy on t
he prison camp anymore.
He was about to beckon to her when, without warning, the girl squeezed out from behind the rocks and started walking toward the wall. Bad Ape watched in horror, taken completely by surprise by the child’s unexpected actions.
“No, no, no…” Bad Ape whispered. “No, no, no!”
She paused briefly, gazing up at the looming wall, then looked back over her shoulder at Bad Ape, who gestured frantically for her to turn around and come back. He wanted to chase after her, but he was afraid that would just make things worse. Plus, he was just afraid, period.
Come back, girl! Come back!
* * *
Caesar sagged upon the X. He tried to keep his head up, to remain aware and conscious, but he was fighting a losing battle against hunger and fatigue. His head lolled on his shoulders, while his heavy eyelids drooped. It was a struggle to keep them open.
Just close them for a moment, he thought. Just a moment.
A shadow passed over him, registering vaguely on his senses, and he awoke abruptly, startled to discover that night had fallen at some point. The camp was eerily still and silent, lit only by the harsh glow of the security lights. He blinked in confusion, trying to figure out how long he had been unconscious.
What have I missed?
But before he could fully take stock of the situation, the vague figure of an ape stepped into view before him, haloed by the camp’s lights. A pair of hairy simian hands reached out to gently cradle Caesar’s face as he squinted into the light, trying to bring his blurry vision into focus.
Was this Red again? Come to taunt him some more?
The ape came closer, his head blocking the glare from the lights. An ugly scar ran down one side of his face, across his mutilated right eye. Caesar gaped in surprise and confusion as he recognized the other ape at last.
“Koba,” he whispered hoarsely.
The ape’s one good eye gazed tenderly at Caesar. He leaned in toward his former friend and enemy and pressed his lips to Caesar’s ears.
“Sleep,” the dead ape said softly.
Caesar shook his head. He had to stay awake. His people were counting on him to free them. He couldn’t surrender to exhaustion, no matter how little strength he had left, or how easy it would be to drift away and never wake up.
“Let go,” Koba tempted him. “There is no hope.” He glanced over at the apes in their pens. “Even they will know that soon enough.”
Caesar considered his people. He had given them hope by stealing the key. Was Koba suggesting that he was doomed to fail them once more?
“No…” he said weakly.
“Yes!” Koba insisted. “Join me…”
In death?
Caesar squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the disturbing apparition, who could not possibly be real. Koba was dead. He couldn’t be here.
This can’t be happening.
A blinding light shone in his eyes, startling him. His eyes snapped open in time to see a gleaming machete swinging toward him. The blade chopped into the rope binding his right wrist with a loud thwack. His freed arm dropped numbly to his side, leaving him hanging from only one wrist. Pins and needles stabbed the liberated limb.
Disoriented, Caesar looked for Koba—and saw Red instead. The Colonel and Preacher had appeared as well, the latter shining a flashlight at Caesar as Koba sliced through the ape’s remaining bonds. Caesar collapsed onto the platform, too weak to do anything else.
A dream, he thought. Koba was just a dream.
But the Colonel and his henchmen were very real.
“If he’s still alive in the morning,” the Colonel said, “he goes back to work or you shoot him.” He gazed down at the debilitated ape. “Keep him separate from the others.”
Preacher nodded obediently as Red came forward to carry out the Colonel’s orders. Caesar did not fight back, but, with what little strength he had left, he closed his fist around the key.
Koba was wrong, Caesar thought. There is still hope.
For me and my people.
24
Maurice and Rocket emerged to find Bad Ape crouched behind the craggy outcropping hiding the pit from the humans on the wall. The orangutan was surprised to find Bad Ape up on the surface, instead of waiting for them at the bottom of the pit, and looked with growing concern for the girl, whom he had left in the strange chimpanzee’s care. His eyes searched the surrounding rocks for any sign of the child, but she was nowhere to be found.
Where is she? What’s become of her?
Bad Ape heard them exit the pit. Turning toward them, he pointed hysterically at a gap in the huge uncompleted wall guarding the camp. His motions were so frenzied that it took Maurice a moment to realize that the chimp was crudely making the two-fingered sign for “go in.” The distraught ape jabbered at them as well.
“In! She go in!”
To the camp? Maurice froze in shock as he grasped what Bad Ape was saying, even as he struggled to understand why the girl would do such a thing. He looked at Rocket, who appeared equally stunned by the news. Maurice knew that his friend had not grown as attached to the child as he had, but even so Rocket understood the severity of the situation.
Now the girl was in danger, too.
Maurice snatched the binoculars from Bad Ape and turned them toward the wall, where human soldiers were working through the night to secure heavy artillery in place, sweating and straining as they hoisted rocket launchers and machine guns up the wall. Searchlights were concentrated on the wall to assist the soldiers in their labors. Intent on the arduous operation, none of the humans appeared to notice as the girl entered the camp undetected. Maurice could not believe her luck.
But how much longer before they noticed?
* * *
Confined to a small cage directly beneath a guard tower, isolated from the other apes, Caesar found his new accommodations only slightly more comfortable than the cross on the platform. He sprawled face-down upon the cold, frigid earth, too weak to move, let alone try to make use of the key. Both sleep and wakefulness eluded him as he hovered in a semiconscious daze, dreading whatever dreams might be creeping up on him, knowing that Koba might be waiting for him there.
No sleep was almost better than that.
Something flew through the bars of his cage and thudded softly onto the ground beside him. Puzzled, Caesar lifted his head and was surprised to see the human girl’s pitiful rag doll lying in the frozen slush.
What?
He looked up to see the human girl standing right outside the cage, gazing at him with a worried expression on her dirty face. She’d carried the doll in her parka pocket all the way there, until she had apparently lobbed it into his cage.
To comfort him?
Baffled by the girl’s presence, Caesar wondered if he was dreaming again. He looked around anxiously for Koba, but saw only the girl, who appeared as real and tangible as the metal bars between them. She was no figment of his imagination, rising up from his guilty conscience like Koba, he realized. She was really here, looking at him with sad blue eyes.
How is this possible? Where did she come from?
He wanted to ask her how and why she was here, but he knew that she couldn’t answer him. The Colonel had revealed the secret to the girl’s perpetual silence; Caesar understood now that the mutated virus had indeed taken away the child’s capacity for speech. Despite his own dire circumstances, he pitied her for her loss, and was glad that Will was not here to see what his best intentions had led to. Will had wanted to save human minds from a terrible disease, not turn humans into mutes.
But where is Maurice, he wondered, and Rocket and Bad Ape?
He had ordered his friends to flee these mountains if he did not return to them, so what was the girl doing here? He glanced around again, but there was no sign of his allies. He looked quizzically at the girl, who astonished him by sliding a tiny finger along her neck, tentatively mimicking the sign Maurice had tried to teach her before.
Thirsty? she sign
ed.
Caesar was both floored and touched by the child’s query. He had not thought her capable of communicating in such a manner. He lifted a shaky hand to respond, but before he could sign back to her, the girl abruptly turned and wandered out of sight. Caesar craned his neck, looking anxiously for her, but was unable to see where she had gone. The depth of his concern took him by surprise; he had never wanted her along on his quest in the first place, but he waited tensely until she finally returned, lugging a heavy pail of water in both hands. The water sloshed over the sides of the bucket as she raised it and held it up to the bars.
The sight of the water gave Caesar the strength to lift himself from the ground and crawl over to where the girl was standing. He pressed his mud-caked face against the bars and she tilted the pail, spilling the water into his gaping mouth. He guzzled it thirstily, rejoicing as it soothed his parched throat and tongue, which had been without a drop of water for days. He couldn’t remember ever drinking anything sweeter.
Thank you, he thought. Good girl.
As he drained the bucket, reducing its weight, she was able to hold onto it with just one hand. Her other hand reached through the bars to touch Caesar’s face… just like Cornelius once had. Caesar felt his heart melting.
Low grunts came from the ape enclosure across the yard. As Caesar gulped down the last of the water, he saw the other apes pressing against the bars of their pen, staring in wonder and curiosity at the girl and Caesar. A few of the apes, desperate for relief, beckoned silently to the girl, who turned toward them.
