by Alan Nayes
He laughed more uneasily than he would have preferred to show. But there was no denying this ape was a monster. And he couldn’t deny there was something intangible taking place here he couldn’t quite put his finger on. So like any investment he worried might turn south, he decided to get out of it. He wiped the rain from his eyes, having made the decision. There would be no hunt. He had what he wanted. Why take any chances at all? Only stupid investors made stupid decisions. He slammed his open palm against the trailer. “Storm or no storm, we’ll do it tomorrow.” He directed his orders to the team leader. “Have the vets sedate him in the morning,” adding, “We won’t be using the four-wheelers to haul him.”
The men exchanged glances. “You aren’t going to hunt him up in the woods?” the tracker man asked, plainly disappointed.
“No, Sayed.” Deliberately shaking his head, Ahmen gazed at the trailer where he guessed the ape was probably resting. Suddenly the idea of even remotely considering allowing the giant any freedom seemed utterly unacceptable. And stupid. Perhaps the prolonged rain had been Allah’s blessing. “I’m going to shoot him where he is.” He turned for the dock, already feeling better. “The ape’s massacre commences tomorrow.”
Only he had it backward.
CHAPTER 35
12:06 a.m. Midnight shift change. All quiet. Except for the drizzle.
The four fresh men climbed to the bridge to replace the four watchers already there. The only words exchanged were in Arabic. The off-shift men, tired after a long boring eight hours, descended the ladder, relieved to be heading up to their warm dry comfortable rooms in the estate house.
The last man down the ladder stopped midway when a voice called to him from the bridge. “Hey, what’s the deal with the security camera?”
The man glanced up into the rain, catching the drops with his eyelids. When was this fucking storm going to move on? “What do you mean?”
A fat head leaned over the railing. “Just checked the video. No images.”
“Fuck.” He glanced over to the three waiting on the deck of the barge, including their team leader, and motioned them to proceed without him. “Let me look.” Wearily he started back up. Ahmen was paying well for this easy assignment but still, he didn’t need nor want this inconvenience. Probably something simple, just a button that wasn’t pressed correctly. He’d have it working in no time, though what was there to see? Mostly, the beast just sat there, sometimes staring at the lens, but mostly dozing when he wasn’t munching. “Last supper tonight, Mr. PM,” he mumbled once back in the bridge house.
The new leader asked, “You have been monitoring the ape every hour, correct?”
“Yeah, sure,” he replied, though in actuality, none of the off-shift men had looked since hours earlier when Ahmen had been out here. He fiddled with the remote panel. “Camera’s moving and according to the indicators, the lens focuses.” He tapped the screen. “No image though.”
The new shift-in-command commented more sharply this time. “Yeah, an image might be important.”
The video man ignored the barb. He shrugged. “Not sure why we don’t have a picture. All the electronics are working.” He ran a finger over the dark monitor. “See how the screen color is not uniform—darker green there, and here, a little lighter.”
The shift leader asked. “What does that mean?”
The tired man yawned. “Screen could be going out. But it really makes no difference. Ahmen plans to kill him in the morning.”
“It is morning.”
The off-shift man moved back toward the ladder. “Well, later in the morning then. I’m off to bed. Sleep well, girls,” he taunted in English.
Shelby checked the time. Half past midnight and still she couldn’t will herself to sleep. She knew Goliath was dead by now but feeling it and knowing it with certainty were two different things. Ahmen had promised he’d text her a photo of Goliath once he was mounted and at the time she’d thought the offer cruel and disgusting. And that opinion hadn’t altered one iota, but she couldn’t decide if it was better to know for sure or be left wondering. Maybe that was what was preventing her from sleeping—not the “not knowing” per se but unable to decide whether she even wanted to know. None of it made sense. She’d even found herself tempted to call Ahmen but nixed that idea real fast. She despised what he stood for as far as his fetish for collecting and killing rare primates.
One thing she was sure of. She would have hated seeing the gigantic regal primate squatted in a tiny cramped enclosure while public gawkers shouted, teased, and tossed peanuts or bits of fruit at him.
She stared at the ceiling and made herself think of something pleasant. She hoped John was safe back on Little Okpilak. It worked because five minutes later she’d drifted into a fitful slumber.
But it wouldn’t last.
“What the fuck was that?” the shift leader asked, jarred out of his light doze by a loud metallic bang. He checked his watch: 2:21 in the morning.
Reflexively, all four men gathered in front of the security screen. Still no image. Only green. The leader stepped outside, pulling his hood over his head. The rain had at least lessened to a steady sprinkle. He swiveled the spotlight over the trailer. Nothing seemed amiss.
A second loud metallic disturbance made him start. “Get out here and bring the rifles.”
By now more loud noises emanated from inside the trailer. The youngest man stood on the deck catching his balance. “Hell, we’re moving!”
“Fuck!” the leader cursed, feeling the barge beginning to rock harder. He looked out over the strait but the water remained relatively calm. No rollers or white caps. He raced back toward the trailer. It was shifting a few inches on the barge deck with each loud crash that occurred inside the wide container. “It’s the ape!” he called out, disbelieving what he was witnessing. He ran alongside the trailer, banging his fist against the trailer’s side in an attempt to draw the giant’s attention. He saw clearly what the creature was doing, though why remained a mystery. It wasn’t going to do the primate any good to continue to smash against one side of the enclosure then leap across and hit the opposite side. Except maybe injure himself. “Call the vet!” he ordered. Ahmen would have their skin if they allowed the giant to kill itself while on their shift.
More crashes. The trailer emitted a high-pitched squeal as it shifted again against the deck’s surface. Damn, the fucking creature inside had suddenly gone wacko. The barge rolled more, listing a few degrees port then a few degrees back starboard with each collision. The leader’s eyes widened in awe. That fucker is strong! The force the giant was creating was frightening and all the men had their weapons ready should the trailer suddenly break open.
The leader attempted to slide the rear viewing slat open but the handle refused to budge. “Give me a hand!” he called out in Arabic.
All three men applied pressure but still the metal remained frozen. “He’s wedged it shut!” one of the men said.
The leader ordered the fourth man up top. “See about the roof. See if that one will open,” he shouted, though by now he understood the purpose behind the two earlier loud metallic bangs. The giant had somehow prevented the windows from opening by damaging the metal runners with the only weapons he had, his heavy fists.
He crashed the butt of his rifle against the rear door. “Quiet, you bastard!” he screamed.
From the trailer’s roof, he heard what he’d already silently predicted.
“Top’s wedged shut, too,” the younger man shouted down.
“Fuck, fuck,” he cursed, listening to the mayhem going on inside. Then reaching for his radio he made the call he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to make.
The pretty woman had to nudge Ahmen several times before he awakened. She’d already been awoken by the disturbance down at the marina. Cezini was always a light sleeper and she hated rain storms, contributing to her three nights of insomnia. Her lover’s irascible mood wasn’t acting as a soporific either. B
esides, one look at that thing on the barge told her Bear Island was the last place she wanted to see that white monster, at least alive anyway.
She’d hoped the shouts drifting up to their marina-facing bedroom window would stop but when the radio crackled by the nightstand, Cezini decided whatever was going on down by the “monkey cage,” it would need Ahmen’s direct attention.
Groggily Ahmen came out of his slumber. Damn, she thought, he could sleep through a fucking typhoon.
But once awake he reacted fast. He grasped the radio. “What the fuck is going on down there? The entire house can hear you!” he spewed into the mic.
Cezini could hear the alarm in the caller’s voice. She wasn’t sure whether it was from fear of the beast or fear of the man beside her.
“It’s the ape!” he tried to explain. “I’ve called for the veterinarian.”
“What’s wrong with the ape?” Ahmen shot back, already pulling on his pants and shirt.
“He’s gone berserk. He’s wedged both viewing windows shut and—”
“Get Ralston! I’m on my way.”
Cezini watched him drop the radio on the vacated mattress. His frantic actions were beginning to scare her. “I told you not to bring that hairy brute here,” she complained.
Ahmen barely looked her way. “Shut up!” he snapped and ran for the door.
The raucous barking of the six Belgian Malinois had joined the cacophony of discordant sounds echoing up from the marina—men shouting, clanging sounds of metal viciously deforming, and the squeal of the shock bumpers absorbing the shifting weight of the barge rubbing against the dock. The occasional thunder rolling out of the heavy overcast night sky indicated the storm might be entering round two.
Ahmen subconsciously shivered in the wet air, but barely felt the cool temperature as he ran down the stone steps, carrying only a powerful LED flashlight. As Ralston caught up, Ahmen saw one of the men racing up the steps.
“Javad wants the long-handle electric prods,” he blathered as he ran past him up toward the estate house.
Ahmen shouted after him. “They’re in the storage room. And get my crossbow while you’re there! Don’t forget the fuckin’ bolts!” He started back down the steps, telling Ralston, who was in the midst of zipping up his rain gear top, “I’m going to shoot the bastard now. Tonight!” Listening to the frenzied dogs barking, he ordered, “Have the dogs ready in case we need them. I’ve half a mind to see how seven hundred pounds of canine muscle match up to seventeen hundred pounds of ape-gone-shit.”
The expression on Ralston’s face indicated where his money lay. The mad ape. “Mine too,” Ahmen said. This near the dock he could plainly hear the heavy collisions against the sides of the trailer. He shot the APA man a sidelong look. “God, he couldn’t actually break out of that, could he?”
Ralston’s long pause was answer enough. He’s actually considering the possibility! Before Ralston could reply, Ahmen said, “I want all three teams down on the dock. No one’s sleeping tonight.”
Ahmen heard Ralston’s call to the house and by the time they reached the dock, the commotion of the escalating activity inside the house was loud enough to reach the marina. Ahmen glanced back briefly and spotted the silhouettes of seven or eight armed figures bounding down the stone stairway. The cavalry. He felt fully confident the situation was well in hand. He was tempted to just let the ape beat himself to death but worried too much trauma to his white coat would be more damaging than the crossbow, or gunshots if it came to that. He wished to make the taxidermist’s job as unchallenging as possible
Once on the barge, he paused to maintain his balance. He exchanged looks with Ralston. I don’t fucking believe this. The giant was literally rocking the barge with his alternate side collisions with the trailer. Ralston pointed to the shift in position of the trailer. It was inching closer to the deck edge.
“If it goes in, he’ll drown,” Ahmen said, gawking at the trailer. The force of each crash sent vibrations he could feel in the soles of his shoes.
Within minutes the deck filled with men. Ahmen had the trailer surrounded and ordered several more attempts to loosen the slats on their runners. No going. He motioned the veterinarian back onto the dock. “Won’t be needing the tranquilizer dart.” He took the crossbow from one of the men and loaded a bolt, cocking the powerful bow with a rope cocking device. He stepped in front of the back sliding door and moved away five paces nearer the stern. Plenty of room to fire and load again. “Let’s end this!” he shouted at the bashing going inside.
The trailer fell silent, catching everyone by surprise. The rocking ceased. No one moved, unsure of what to expect next.
One of the team leaders wondered aloud, “He knock himself out?”
Ahmen asked again about the video feed. “Still blocked,” a voice called from the bridge. So no way to see inside except to open the door. If they had been able to open a slat he could plug the beast that way. There were tools to remove the slats but that would take more time. Fuck it.
He buried the funny feeling he suddenly had about all this. As loud and forceful as the collisions sounded, the dumb monkey more than likely was dazed or even unconscious on the floor. He saw the men near the rear door latch watching him expectantly. He noticed Ralston had moved off the barge and was waiting behind the vet.
He took a deep breath.
Seconds from now it would be over and everyone could go back to sleep.
He tacitly nodded, giving the go-ahead. One man removed the heavy lock.
With a grating squeak, the trailer door began to inch up for the first time in over three days, revealing a jet black interior.
Ahmen raised the crossbow and aimed.
And waited.
For two long seconds nothing happened…
CHAPTER 36
With an incensed roar, the giant shot out of the dark on all fours, jarring and knocking the trailer door from its tracks before it was halfway up.
The preternatural speed caught everyone off guard. Ahmen saw only white and squeezed off a shot for the head but knew he’d shot high as the giant primate was racing on all fours. “No!” he screamed in sheer panic, throwing himself down on the deck as the seething mass of muscle was upon him in a single bound. He glimpsed a long brown object swinging from the ape’s left wrist before it registered—a shackle!
“Shoot,” someone ordered but by then the giant primate had veered sharply left and leaped off the barge deck belly first into the water with a loud splash. Four rapid fire shots followed, their splashes lost in the turbulence of the giant’s entry.
Pandemonium broke out on the barge—shouts, chaos—as men lined the side where the giant was last seen.
“Spotlight!” someone shouted.
Still too shocked to move, Ahmen pulled himself to his feet only after being assisted by a pair of hands. Ralston’s.
The Animal Pals man retrieved the dropped crossbow. “He was supposed to be shackled,” he said, staring inside the maw of the trailer, disbelief filling his face.
“Supposed to be?” Ahmen countered. “He was shackled!”
More flashlight beams crisscrossed the water. “How deep is the marina here?” one of the team leaders asked.
“Less than twenty feet.” Ahmen moved with the line of men racing from bow to stern along the port side searching for any evidence of the giant. “Did anyone hit him?” he shouted, straining to pick out any sign the ape had been wounded. “Any blood?” he cried out. “No one leaves the marina until he’s found!”
“Forty-five seconds!” a voice called out. The ape had been submerged three-quarters of a minute.
Ahmen’s shock quickly gravitated to anger and frustration. “How could he not have been hit?” he screamed. “How?” He also realized he’d underestimated the giant. He wondered if the primate’s actions had been designed to force them to open the door.
Team leader two approached him from inside the trailer. He held out a
finger. “This is why the camera didn’t function.”
“What’s that?” Ahmen asked, then, “Time?”
Timer: “One minute!”
“Avocado. The monkey smeared avocado on the lens.”
The very possibility made Ahmen start. “He smeared avocado so we couldn’t see? He’s a dumb fucking ape!”
Timer: “One and a half minutes!”
Ahmen gazed at the dark water, willing the giant to surface. “He’s gotta be dead. Drowned.” Then screaming in rage, “Fuck! Fuck! I had him. Here! I had him! Show yourself, Goliath! Let me see your fucking big ugly head!”
Ralston could only shrug. From his face, it was plain he wasn’t comfortable with this new development one bit. “Who would’ve thought a monster that big could swim?”
Timer: “Two minutes!”
“Get the tracking device here!” Ahmen shouted while retrieving his cell phone.
Shelby wasn’t going to answer. Hell, she’d barely been asleep a couple of hours. Then she saw the number. Ahmen! “Hello,” she said, wondering what the hell he wanted.
A voice virtually shouted. “Can apes swim?”
“Is this Rasheed Ahmen?”
“Answer me. Can apes swim and how long can they stay under?”
Shelby decided he was drunk or crazed. “What’s wrong with you? You realize the time?”
“Hell yes. Your ape has escaped!”
That got her attention. “Goliath? What happened?”
“Can apes swim?” he persisted.
She detected a lot of noise in the background—commotion, voices, chaos. “Yes, some. Chimps and orangutans have been filmed swimming and diving.”
“Fuck, why didn’t you warn me?”
“Damn, man, are you nuts?”
The line went dead.
At three minutes, Ahmen decided the ape must be lying dead on the sea bottom. The current was weak in the sheltered island marina and later in the morning, he’d send down a diver to attach a winch and they could drag his big-ass carcass ashore. The tracking device screen remained dark, not even the embedded chip showed, but this was because of the water depth, he’d been told by Sayed.