by Greg Cox
And at the worst possible time, Caesar thought. Just when we need to make our escape!
The Colonel’s wary gaze darted about the slumbering camp. Caesar struggled to maintain a neutral expression and not betray his growing anxiety as the Colonel craned his neck to squint up through the falling snow at the guard tower where Boyle had been posted. The angle was steep enough that Caesar didn’t think that the Colonel could see that the guard station was unoccupied, but he wasn’t entirely certain. And what if the Colonel chose to check on the guard, or call out to him?
If he sounds an alarm, our plans are doomed.
A metallic clank interrupted the tense moment, distracting the Colonel, who looked down at his feet to discover that he had dropped his flask. The odor of spilled whiskey wafted up from the adulterated snow. Frowning, the Colonel picked up the flask and peered at it in confusion, as though he’d already forgotten that he’d brought it with him. He shook it to see if it was empty or not. A few last gulps sloshed inside it.
He glanced around uncomfortably, perhaps worried that his embarrassing lapse had been observed. He noticed the apes in the pen watching him, then looked back at Caesar and winced at the chimpanzee’s piercing gaze. His usual self-assurance was nowhere in evidence as he slowly backed away from the cage and retreated, with unseemly haste, back to his tower. Falling snow began to cover up his tracks.
Watching him go, Caesar was both relieved and puzzled by the Colonel’s sudden departure. He turned toward Rocket, who appeared equally perplexed.
What was that? Rocket signed.
Caesar shook his head, having no idea, but, ultimately, it didn’t matter. The important thing was that he was gone now and they could get back to their plan. Caesar bent down to liberate his other foot from the heavy shackles, then tossed the key to Rocket, who deftly reached through the bars of the pen to catch it. Wasting no time, Rocket set to work freeing himself from the chain binding him to the other apes. He grunted with satisfaction as he stepped free and lobbed the key to Lake, who followed his example before passing the key along to the rest of the chain gang. One after another, the other apes eagerly unchained themselves.
Thank you, Preacher, Caesar thought wryly.
Moving freely, Rocket made use of Boyle’s keys to unlock the gate of the pen. Caesar was briefly reminded of their “jail break” from the primate shelter more than a decade ago. He hoped this escape would prove just as successful.
Apes together strong.
Rocket tossed the keys over to Caesar, who received them gratefully. He had been caged enough in his life, as had his people. He was ready to leave these bars behind.
No more cages, he thought. Never again.
He was unlocking the gate when the lights of the Colonel’s watchtower came on and Caesar saw something that caused him to instantly signal the other apes to stay where they were, at least for the moment. He nodded at the tower where the Colonel could be seen standing before the window, lit by a lamp behind him. Only his shadowy outline was visible, making it impossible to tell if he was gazing down at the prison yard or staring out into the distance.
Rocket looked across the yard at Caesar. Do you think he knows we’re up to something?
Caesar wished he knew. If the Colonel had observed something suspicious a few minutes ago, wouldn’t he have dispatched soldiers to investigate by now? But the apes could hardly carry out their escape plan, and rescue the trapped children, with the Colonel standing watch from his tower. They’d be spotted for sure.
Long minutes passed before the Colonel turned away from the window and vanished into the private eyrie, but the lights in the tower remained on, suggesting that the Colonel had not yet retired for the evening but was instead sleeplessly moving about his lair—and might return to the window at any moment.
Rocket hoisted his rifle, anxious to get going.
Now? he signed.
Caesar shook his head. He shared Rocket’s frustration; the night was not getting any younger and their time was running out, but they couldn’t risk attempting the rescue while the Colonel was still up and about.
Wait, Caesar signed back, till he turns off his lights.
The snow began coming down harder. A rising wind howled in the night as the apes gazed up at the tower, waiting… and waiting… and waiting…
32
Hours passed and the snowstorm became a blizzard. A fresh layer of white blanketed the camp and fell upon the shivering apes, who huddled and paced within the pen, trying to keep warm while staring anxiously up at the Colonel’s watchtower. The snow frosted the apes’ furry hides, making them look nearly as white as the late, unlamented Winter.
And still the Colonel’s lights remained on.
The endless waiting tortured Caesar, who knew their time was running out. The escape tunnel under the pen was ready, providing a route to safety, but only for the adults, who were not about to flee the camp without the children. But how could they get to the children’s pen with the Colonel potentially watching from above? It was possible that the man was indeed sleeping, despite the lights on in the tower, but they couldn’t count on it, especially given how oddly the Colonel had been acting earlier. Caesar could readily imagine the man spending a sleepless night on this, the eve of battle. Perhaps he was poring over his maps and strategies one last time, or meditating before that grotesque shrine of his? Or maybe he was simply passed out drunk on his cot?
There was no way of telling.
Tearing his burning gaze away from the tower’s lights, Caesar looked over at Rocket, who was coiled tensely at the gate of the pen, clutching his rifle. The hairless chimp shook off the snow clinging to his head and shoulders as he gazed back at Caesar.
The sun will be up soon, Rocket signed.
Caesar was all too aware of this. The storm made it difficult to tell if the sky was lightening yet, but the dawn could not be too far away. Caesar looked at the watchtower one last time, hoping that it would finally go dark, but realized that they could not delay any longer.
We go now, he signed to Rocket. Or die trying.
Rocket nodded grimly. He waited until a searchlight swept past the pen, then darted out, rifle in hand. Crossing the yard quickly, he came to Caesar’s cage, and the ape leader exited it at last, glad to be finally free.
They wasted no time conversing. Keeping low, they dashed from the empty guard tower into a murky alley between the soldiers’ darkened barracks and the pen containing the ape children, who were huddled together for warmth. Caesar hated leaving tracks behind in the fresh snow, but there was nothing to be done about it; as the Colonel himself had observed earlier, nature cared little for the plans of men or apes. Caesar could only hope that the tracks went unnoticed until it was too late for the humans to react.
Soldiers, patrolling the camp, marched past the children’s pen, missing Caesar and Rocket by moments. The escaped apes ducked further into the alley, pressing their backs against the cold concrete wall, until the soldiers crossed out of sight. Caesar silently signaled Rocket and they darted over to the children’s pen, where they were confronted by the heartbreaking sight of several small gorillas, orangutans, bonobos, and chimpanzees shivering beneath a heavy coating of snow.
Caesar’s anger grew. The heartless humans had not even provided the young ones with blankets or a fire or any shelter from the storm. He assumed that the Colonel had only kept the little apes alive to help ensure the cooperation of their parents—and to avoid the riot that would have resulted had he simply butchered the children in front of the adult apes. The children were hostages, but they too had outlived their usefulness as far as the Colonel was concerned; Caesar knew that the genocidal commander would show the children no mercy when the time came. He wasn’t going to leave a single ape alive.
He unlocked the gate and slid it open as quietly as he could. Even still, his actions stirred some of the children from their sleep. They sat up dozily, rubbing their eyes and shaking off the snow that had accumulated on their small
bodies, then jumped to their feet at the sight of Caesar and Rocket. They scrambled wildly toward the adults, waking up their companions. Caesar worried that the children might get too excited, alerting the guards.
Quiet! he signed to them urgently. Make no noise!
To their credit, the children grasped the need for silence. Despite their age, they had learned too well that attracting the humans’ attention was to be avoided at all costs. They kept quiet as the two adults furtively slipped into the pen, where Caesar and Rocket were immediately swarmed by the little apes. Their wide, hopeful eyes tore at Caesar’s heart as he gently patted their heads and continued to shush them. His own eyes sought out Cornelius and were rewarded by the sight of his son at the back of the crowd. Cornelius broke into a run, clambering up and over the backs of the other children to practically leap into his father’s arms. Overcome with emotion, Caesar embraced the son he had been forced to turn his back on only days ago. He hugged Cornelius tightly, never wanting to let him go.
But reality dictated otherwise. Caesar shifted Cornelius onto his back in order to get all of the children to safety before it was too late. Rocket kept watch on the nearest guard tower, where a solitary sentry could be glimpsed through an open doorway. The guard appeared to be oblivious to what was going on beneath his nose as Caesar hustled the children out of the pen toward a tall iron lamp pole that was far too close to the guard tower for Caesar’s peace of mind. He took a moment to mourn their original plans.
The tunnel would have been better, he thought ruefully, but this will have to do.
He hoisted the children, one by one, onto the pole. At his direction, they hastily scaled the pole and scrambled out onto an electrical line strung high above the guard towers and the camp. Strong winds and icy lines made this route more perilous than Caesar would have preferred, but once again Nature had other plans. As the heavy snow swirled all around the children, he watched in suspense as they made their way across the camp toward the adult pen, over the heads of the soldiers posted below, most of whom were probably more concerned with the snow falling down on them than with peering up into the storm.
Perhaps the blizzard was not entirely to the apes’ disadvantage?
Arriving above the adult pen, the children began dropping silently down into the waiting arms of Lake and several other apes, who hastily handed them off to their respective parents. Each mother and father clutched their little ones joyously as they were reunited.
Caesar and Rocket waited until all the other children had made it safely over to the adult pen before following them. Cornelius clung tightly to his father, his small arms around Caesar’s neck as they climbed the pole and crossed the swaying wire to join the others. A pair of burly gorillas caught the chimpanzees as they dropped from the wire. They lowered the chimps onto the snowy floor of the pen, where the escape tunnel awaited.
So far, so good, Caesar thought. But we’re not safe yet.
Not as long as the Colonel remained alive.
33
Cornelius did not want to let go of his father, not after Caesar had finally come for him. The young ape had been afraid that his father had abandoned him, leaving him alone in the cage with the other children, but he realized now that Caesar had just been waiting for a chance to sneak past the scary humans and rescue them all, like he was supposed to.
I should have known he would come, Cornelius thought. My father is Caesar.
But now Caesar was herding him and the other children toward a dark hole in the ground where Cornelius saw Maurice beckoning to him. Cornelius was glad to see the wise old orangutan again, but he still didn’t want to leave his father’s side to go down into the hole. The humans had already killed his mother and brother. His father was all he had left.
I can’t lose him too! Not again!
But his father insisted that he go with the other children.
Be brave, Caesar signed as he pulled Cornelius off his back and handed him down to Maurice, who took him from his father. Be safe.
Cornelius didn’t want to go without him, but he tried to be brave as his father had asked, as Blue Eyes had been. He was Caesar’s son. He had to be as brave as Caesar.
Come soon, he thought. Hurry!
Maurice lowered Cornelius to the floor of the tunnel, where he joined several other children whom his father and Rocket had already handed down to Maurice. To his surprise, he found a human girl waiting for them underground, holding a flashlight. She took Cornelius’s hand and began to lead the children down a long dark tunnel…
Away from his father.
* * *
Bad Ape shivered as he paced nervously around the top of the pit, clutching himself in a futile attempt to stay warm. The rocky outcropping shielded him from the humans’ view, but provided scant protection against the freezing wind and snow. He missed the thick green parka he had given to Nova, even though he knew she needed it more than he did.
Maybe I can find a new coat someday, he thought, if we get away from the bad place?
A noise echoed up from the depths of the pit. Peering down into the hole, Bad Ape saw Nova guide a large group of little apes out of the tunnel to the base of the pit, where she steered them toward the ladder leading up to the surface. Snow fell past the children as they began to climb the ladder, one after another. They looked nervously up at Bad Ape, not recognizing him. He felt a pang in his heart as he recalled his own lost offspring.
“It’s okay, little ones,” he said softly, urging them on. “Come, come…”
Despite their apprehension, the children were anxious to leave the tunnels and get away from the humans. In no time at all, a whole troop of children were huddled together behind the outcropping. Maurice followed the last of them out of the pit, joining Bad Ape and Nova.
Is it clear? he signed to Bad Ape.
The chimp peered through the binoculars at a guard post along the giant wall. Human soldiers—with guns!—paced back and forth on the wall, maintaining a close watch on the horizon. According to Maurice, more human soldiers were coming to fight the ones in the camp; Bad Ape didn’t entirely understand that, but he guessed that the humans on the wall were watching out for their enemies. And he did understand that none of the humans were friends to apes, so they needed to get away before the fighting started.
Which meant running for their lives.
“Go!” he whispered to Maurice and the children, waving them on with his hand while he lingered behind to keep watch on the camp. The soldiers were searching the horizon for enemy humans now; they weren’t looking for any runaway apes yet. “Go, go, go…!”
Nova scrambled onto Maurice’s back, settling into her usual spot, as the apes dashed out from behind the rocks and set out across an exposed stretch of flats toward the lower slopes of the mountain looming over the camp. They ran single file toward the snowy, wooded hillside as fast as their feet and knuckles could carry them, counting on the storm and the night to hide them.
But would that be enough?
Go, go. Away from the bad place!
* * *
After the children, it was the adults’ turn. Rocket took charge of urging the other apes down into the tunnels. It was a tight squeeze for some of the larger gorillas and orangutans, but they managed. Many of the adults had wanted to stay with their children, but had been persuaded that it was better to get all the children clear of the camp first just in case the humans suddenly caught on to what was happening; nobody wanted any children left in the pen if the guards started firing on the escaping apes. The old and the injured were also given priority.
Almost there, Rocket thought.
It had taken longer than he liked to get everyone out, but finally the last of their people had exited the pen, leaving only him and Caesar behind. He turned toward his leader, more than ready to leave the hellish camp behind, and found Caesar over by the gate, staring up at the Colonel’s watchtower, which was lit up from the inside. Rocket assumed that he was keeping an eye out in case the Colonel su
ddenly appeared in the window again. Rocket was glad to see that the window remained empty… at least for the time being.
Not wanting to push their luck, he went to fetch Caesar. He tapped the other chimp on the shoulder to get his attention.
Let’s go, he signed.
But Caesar remained where he was, making no effort to move. His brilliant green eyes remained fixed on the lighted window high in the tower. Rocket was not sure why Caesar was delaying. The other apes were safely gone; there was no need to linger or keep watching out for the Colonel anymore.
Caesar? What’s wrong?
Caesar kept one eye on the tower as he answered.
“By the time they wake, you’ll all be up on the mountain.” He turned to face Rocket, bearing a grim expression on his face. “Hurry, you must go.”
Rocket suddenly realized that Caesar did not intend to join them.
Without you? No…!
A hint of regret showed upon Caesar’s determined features, but he did not relent. His course was clearly set, as it had been since he had found his wife and firstborn murdered in their own home.
“Maurice was right,” he said. “I am like Koba. He could not escape his hate.” He turned his vengeful eyes toward the Colonel’s tower once more. “And I still cannot escape mine.”
Rocket wanted to change Caesar’s mind, to convince him that their people needed Caesar more than Caesar needed revenge. But he remembered his own anger after Koba had killed Ash. If Koba was still alive and dwelling in that tower instead of the Colonel, Rocket knew he would feel just as Caesar did right now—and that he would make the same choice.
He nodded at Caesar, accepting the inevitable. He was tempted to join Caesar in his search for vengeance, as he had before, but their people were far from safe yet. Maurice and the others needed him.
