But there were no infected people anywhere.
“Where are we heading?” Mike asked her as he struggled to keep up.
She didn’t need to answer his question because they were already there. She stumbled against a nearby bin as she looked on at the carnage in front of her.
“Yikes,” said Mike.
Half-a-dozen infected, including the one that had attacked her earlier, had scaled the walls of the orang-utan enclosure. They were attacking the primates inside.
Annaliese watched in horror as Lily placed her baby in the elevated safety of the habitat’s mangrove tree. She swiped and hissed at the infected as they closed in on her and her child. The male orang-utan, Brick, was rushing back and forth, clubbing the invaders whenever they got close enough. He let out an ear-splitting screech with every blow, his animalistic rage overcoming him as he fought to protect his family. As Annaliese stared harder, she noticed that the male primate held a fist-sized rock in his palm and was using it to bludgeon his attackers.
“How do we help?” Mike asked her.
Annaliese shrugged. It hurt her heart to say so, but there was nothing they could do. “We can’t do anything,” she said. “The drop over those walls is fifteen foot to the moat on the other side. We’ll break our legs. Just look at the people inside.”
All of the infected in the enclosure sported broken legs, arms or ribs, depending on how they’d landed. Bones jutted from broken skin and bled profusely. Of course, the injuries were ignored by them – their ability to feel pain completely absent – and they attacked regardless.
“Do you think that’s all of them?” Mike asked.
“I think so. This must be all of the ones that followed me through the window, or maybe one or two that wondered out the house before we closed the doors. It’s strange.”
“What is?”
“They must have stumbled past a dozen different animal enclosures on their way here, but they only chose this one to invade. They ignored the pigs, the birds, the horses.”
“Maybe they only attack people. Maybe orang-utans are close enough to confuse them.”
Annaliese thought about it. “Maybe.”
The battle inside the primate habitat continued. Lily continued to swipe and claw at anyone that got too near but, for the most part, Brick was the one keeping them at bay. He stood tall in front of Lily and bludgeoned the skull of any infected person that came within range. A couple already lay dead, their brains spilling out onto the grass like glistening pools of lumpy soup.
But Brick was coming off badly, too. A jagged wound had been opened beneath the fur of his left shoulder, torn open by vicious teeth. Annaliese held her breath as an infected girl, in a torn cocktail dress and broken stilettos, leapt up onto the male orang-utan’s back and began chomping at his neck.
Brick wailed. He managed to drag the infected woman off his back and slam her to the floor like a rag doll. Her dress rode up, exposing her lack of underwear. Brick raised the bloody rock in his hand and brought it down so hard that it spilt the woman’s face clean in two.
There were only three infected people left now, the one’s most injured from their fall over the barriers and therefore the slowest to join the attack. One sported a broken femur that stuck out like a spear. Another had two snapped arms that hung limply at his sides. Brick wasted no time in engaging them.
He smashed in the skull of the nearest one and then tossed the man with the broken femur to the ground. Finally he leapt at the infected man with two broken arms and pinned him to the ground. He clutched at the man’s head and began wrenching and pulling. In an unbelievable display of strength, Brick pulled the infected man’s head clear from his shoulders, yanking and twisting it until it snapped free of the spine. Then the mighty orang-utan tossed the head aside like a punctured football.
The chaos that had filled the zoo finally ceased. A quiet stillness gradually grew and expanded. Annaliese stood by and stared into the enclosure with a mixture of both awe and horror spiralling through her guts. She felt sick.
Lily began to make a sobbing noise as Brick fell to the floor, panting and wheezing. Blood spilled from his various wounds and, now that the fight was over, his body had finally given in. Lily cradled him in her arms and stroked at his face. His mighty chest heaved up and down in great gasps of air. From the nearby mangrove tree, Lily’s infant made frightened squeals.
Annaliese knew that Brick was dying. He had only minutes left as blood leaked from a severed artery in his neck. As a vet, she couldn’t help but be fascinated by what she had just witnessed. Brick had protected Lily and her infant bravely, like any human father would. Now that he was mortally wounded, Lily held him in her long arms like a loving partner. Her pained hoots and wails made her grief plain to see.
I guess tragedy isn’t exclusive to the human race.
The infant orang-utan began to climb down the tree, hanging from a branch and then swinging to a lower one, before dropping the last few feet to the ground. Lily craned her neck and hooted at her baby. It sounded like a warning to be cautious, but the infant started towards its mother anyway, bounding along on its tiny fists.
Annaliese was the first to notice the danger, even before Lily did. “Look out,” she cried, trying to communicate across species. But it was no good.
It was too late.
The infected man with the broken femur was still moving, crawling along on his belly. He lay right in the path of the approaching infant. By the time the baby orang-utan realised the danger it was already beyond escape. The infected man reached up and caught a hold of the squealing infant, pinning it down and sinking his teeth into its belly.
The baby ape squealed in terror and agony.
Lily let go of Brick and bellowed like a bass drum. She leapt the distance between herself and her baby in one urgent leap. She landed beside the infected man and twisted his head around, breaking the neck with a single vicious flick. The man went still, face down in the grass.
Lily picked up her bleeding infant and rocked it desperately, patted its head and swung it to and fro.
But the baby was dead.
The pain on Lily’s face was human in every way. Her whimpers pierced the air like a siren.
Annaliese felt tears stream down her face as she watched the female orang-utan lollop back over to Brick with her dead baby held tightly in her arms. When it became clear that he, too, was dead, Lily let free a deep and endless wail.
When it finally stopped, Annaliese wiped the tears from her face and left Lily alone. There was nothing that could be done. Death was everywhere.
Chapter Twenty
Annaliese knocked on the door to the Reptile House and spoke her name. A few seconds later, Shawcross opened it. The people inside were all now armed with various rudimentary weapons: mops, bits of wood, and other salvaged materials. They looked like a lynch mob; all that was lacking were the torches.
Shawcross faced her down. “Is it safe? Are the doors of the house closed? What was all that noise?”
“The house is secure,” she told him. “As long as we all stay back from the grounds then all of the infected people should stay locked up inside.”
“What about the zoo, the park?”
“I think it’s safe. There were some infected people wondering around outside, but they’re dead now – dead dead.”
Shawcross raised an eyebrow. “You killed them?”
“Not exactly, but they’ve been dealt with, trust me.”
He seemed irritated by the lack of concrete facts but, after a moment’s thought, he seemed to be satisfied with what he’d been told.
“Then we should leave,” he said. “Go and find help; someone who can clear this whole mess up.”
Annaliese shrugged. “If that’s what everybody wants to do.”
Mike spoke up. “We don’t know that it’s any safer elsewhere. No one has been able to contact help. Back in the kitchen nobody could get a call through on their mobiles. And you,” he nodded tow
ards Shawcross, “put a call through on the landline when things first went bad. Nobody came. I have a bad feeling.”
Shawcross rubbed at his chin and stared at Mike for a moment. “So what are you saying? That we’re doomed? That nowhere is safe?”
“I’m just saying that I don’t think we should take safety for granted. It might be a luxury right now.”
“You’re saying we should stay here?” Annaliese asked. She wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea or not.
Mike nodded. “We’re five-hundred feet above the ground, on top of a hill surrounded by woodland on all sides. The only thing we don’t have is a castle and a garrison of archers. If this thing – whatever it is – has spread, then I feel much safer up here than down there.”
“Nonsense,” said Shawcross. “These people have families to get back to. We need to report all this to the police.”
“Not if it means us dying,” Mike said. “And I’m not sure there is any police to report things to. You already called them, remember?”
Shawcross folded his arms. “We’re leaving.”
Annaliese put her hand up. “Hold on a minute, Shawcross. You don’t speak for everyone. Perhaps it would be better if we tried to find out what the situation down below is first, before we get in our cars and set off into the unknown.”
Shawcross growled, an audible noise in his throat. Annaliese noticed then that the man’s slick, ginger hair was now back in place, re-styled and orderly.
Back in control.
One of the strangers in the group spoke up. “I’m not going anywhere unless I know it’s safe.”
“Me either,” said another.
“I want to go home,” someone else disagreed.
“It seems we are not agreed,” said Annaliese, realising how smug she sounded but not caring anyway.
Shawcross huffed. “Fine!”
“We should try and get some news,” said Mike. “Does anywhere in the zoo have a television, or a computer with Internet access?”
Annaliese nodded. “There’s a small office block and a warehouse at the rear of the zoo. There are computers there and a staffroom with a television. We may be able to get something to eat as well.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Mike. I’m dead on my feet. I doubt I’ll be getting any sleep, so a bit of grub sounds like a good compromise.
There were murmurings of agreement amongst the others in the group at the sound of food being mentioned, and their anxious looks softened slightly. The thought of fulfilling a basic need was enough to re-motivate most people.
“Well, if we’re all decided, then I will lead the way,” said Shawcross. He brandished a thick branch that he had probably taken out of one of the reptile exhibits. The way he was holding it made him look like a scout master.
“It’s your rodeo,” said Annaliese. “Just try not to leave anybody to die.”
Shawcross shot her a scathing look, but quickly readjusted it to a smile. “Of course not, Anna. It’s important that we all stick together.”
Yeah, right! Wish you’d felt that way earlier when you were closing the door on me.
Shawcross headed up to the exit door and stood beneath the fire exit sign. He looked at the assembled group to make sure they were all ready and then gave them a quick nod.
He opened the door.
The day had become bright and clear. The air was crisp and invigorating. Annaliese stepped out behind Shawcross and looked around at the landscape. Visibility was now much increased with the sun higher in the sky. The zoo’s many exhibits were all easy to spot and the theme park’s rollercoaster, The Hood, towered into the sky at the far end.
Shawcross pointed. “The offices are over there.”
Everyone kept in a tight formation and glanced nervously left and right, ready to run at the first sign of danger, but as they headed past a cage full of lemurs, all seemed to be clear.
Annaliese craned her neck to look over at the eastern side of the zoo as she followed on after everybody else. She tried to make out what was happening inside the orang-utan’s exhibit, but it was too far away. Her heart still ached for Lily.
The group passed by the various animal enclosures, peering into each one as if they were on a tour. Many of the more intelligent animals, the pigs, cows, and birds, were rattled by the recent commotion, but the smaller, less aware animals all seemed oblivious.
“Okay,” said Shawcross, slowing the group down. “These are the offices, just here.”
Annaliese had been inside the boxy, cement office block a few times in the past. She had, on occasion, needed to fill out paperwork for the zoo and had often done so inside the admin office. She had also spent time inside the staffroom once or twice. Bradley would often buy her a coffee.
Poor Bradley.
Shawcross headed up to the front doors and pulled on the handles. They were locked. He tutted and sighed. “We’re going to have to break in. I suspected as much.”
Annaliese raised an eyebrow. “Break in? And how do you propose we do that?”
Shawcross scoffed at her. “I’m sure we can manage to break a window without too much trouble.”
She looked around. The windows of the rectangular building were all thick, double-glazed. She knew breaking a window looked easy in the movies, but she suspected it would be quite the task in real life.
“What you reckon?” Mike asked her.
She shrugged and folded her arms around herself. It was a little chilly. “Don’t know. It would be nice to get inside, so it’s worth a try. I just worry about making too much noise.”
“As long as we put the window out in with a single blow, it should be okay,” Shawcross assuaged her. “We just need to find something that will work well enough.”
“How about that?” said Clark, pointing to a nearby vehicle.
Annaliese recognised the large flatbed truck as being Bradley’s. He had used the sturdy vehicle to ferry animal feed and other materials between the exhibits. It was parked next to a small warehouse that sat beside the office block. But the truck wasn’t what Clark was pointing at. It was what was in the flatbed that was important.
Shawcross clicked his fingers. “Perfect. Just what we need. It’s going to be heavy, though, so could I have a volunteer to help me, please?”
Mike volunteered and he and Shawcross headed over to the truck. The stack of breeze blocks on the flatbed offered the perfect solution for putting through a window and Annaliese let out an exhausted sigh at the thought of getting inside the offices and finally getting to sit still.
Shawcross dragged one of the blocks to the edge of the truck and Mike put his hands under it. Together they managed to shuffle with it over to the front of the building.
“We could use a third pair of hands for this,” said Shawcross.
Annaliese hurried up to the two men and placed her hands underneath the breeze block. The cement was cold to the touch and gritty.
“After three,” Shawcross said. “We all shove it towards this window here.
“One…two…
“Three!”
They heaved the block up into the air and watched it tumble towards the double-paned window. The glass cracked and then gave way. The way the panes were tempered led to them falling out of the frame in a few solid sheets rather than shattering into many shards. It worked out well, because once the window pane had fallen, the aluminium frame was clear and safe to climb over.
“Come on,” said Mike. “Let’s get inside.”
The group formed a line and began to funnel through the open window. Shawcross went first, feeling it his duty to lead the way. Annaliese was the last to go inside. She wouldn’t have felt right leaving people outside where she couldn’t see them. For some reason she felt responsible for them. She didn’t want to see anybody else get hurt.
The room they had entered into was a typical office, with cluttered desks and coffee-stained keyboards. Annaliese picked up a photo frame from the nearest desk and examined it. There was a woma
n in the photo with two young boys. Annaliese wondered if they were all okay.
She glanced at a clock on the wall.
“Hey, I just had a thought,” said Annaliese. “If everything is okay elsewhere then people should start arriving for work soon. It’s gone eight.”
Mike shrugged. “I really hope so. I’ll give a kiss to the first person I see, but…”
Annaliese nodded. “I know, it’s a pretty big hope.”
“I just think that there’s no way that this thing isn’t happening elsewhere.”
“We should find a television. Then we’ll know.”
Shawcross opened up the door that led into the outdoor corridor. He raised a hand to keep everyone back while he checked that the coast was clear. After a few seconds, he beckoned to them all and the group got moving.
The hallways were unlit and eerie. Whenever Annaliese had visited the building previously, the various corridors and offices had always been bustling. It wasn’t that the zoo employed a lot of people, particularly; it was more that the corridors were narrow and the rooms small.
Shawcross halted beside a door on the right. “This is the staffroom,” he said. “Let’s get inside.”
He opened the door and reached in for the light switch. The room became bright, illuminated by the light Shawcross had switched on and also by several windows that overlooked the woods at the edge of the park. The room gave Annaliese a strange feeling of normality as she looked around it. The pool table in the centre was still littered with balls and cues where a game had been abandoned mid-session. An empty crisp packet adorned a small side cabinet. A forgotten coat hung from a wall peg. The room’s plush sofa seemed inviting. Somebody had left a paperback on one of its cushions, The Final Winter. The room had a lived-in feel and spoke not of the horrors that had occurred so close by.
“Thank the heavens,” said Mike as he ran over to a snack vending machine at the far side of the room. He pulled some change out of his pocket and began pushing numbers into the keypad.
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