by Alex Irvine
Dreyfus began to realize how exhausted he was. He needed to sleep. They all needed to sleep. So they picked a spot far into the corner of the deepest sub-basement, where a steel door opened—according to Finney—into an old Bay Area Rapid Transit maintenance tunnel.
“Couple hours of shuteye, and then we go into the tunnels,” Finney said. “See if anyone else had the same idea. There are other ways to get in.” Going underground, Dreyfus thought. It was bound to happen. He’d done just about everything else.
“Wait. First I want to hear what you got,” Dreyfus said to Werner.
“Thought you’d never ask,” Werner replied. He touched a button on the portable rig and rewound the digital recording a minute or so. When he hit play, the first thing that came out was his own voice, loud and strident.
“Jesus, turn that down,” Dreyfus said.
Werner did, and then started it over again. Much more quietly this time, his recorded voice said, “This is San Francisco. We are under attack by… we are under attack and need help. We have a beacon marking our location! Please—we need help! We are under atta—”
A sharp crackle covered Werner’s voice. Then came another voice.
Another human voice.
“…isco… we… you copy? Repeat… rancisco, do you copy?”
On the playback, Werner gave an audible gasp, followed by something that might have been either an oath or a prayer. Gunshots sounded in the background. One of the windows blew in, and they all heard the impact of a ricochet. Screams of humans and screeches of apes drowned out anything the responding party might have added.
Werner stopped the playback.
“That’s when I got the hell out,” he said.
“Yeah,” Dreyfus said. They all sat, absorbing this new information. Two days ago—or was it three?—they’d all thought maybe they were the last humans, the last sentient beings, on the planet. Then along came a bunch of talking chimps, with the occasional gorilla, orangutan, or bonobo thrown in for variety.
Now came an answering human voice. But from where? Who was it? Were there cities somewhere, or at least thriving settlements? How many? Did this voice coming from the other side of the radio represent another scrabbling, desperate bunch of people… or was the world not gone quite so far to hell as Dreyfus had feared?
They have to be warned about the apes, he thought. They won’t believe us, but we have to do it anyway. And on the off chance they do believe us, and we survive the next couple of days, we’ll ask them for a little help.
“Did you talk to him again?” he asked Werner. “Before, after, or that was the only time?”
“That was it,” Werner said. “But boss, there are people out there! Not just us. We’re not—”
“You better keep your voice down, or there will be less people around,” Dreyfus said.
“Alone,” Werner said, more quietly. “We’re not alone.”
“Sorry,” Dreyfus said. “I meant fewer.” He reached out and gave him a slap on the back. “Good work, Werner. Really good work. Where do we need to get to, so we can send again?”
“Back to ground level, anyway,” Werner said.
Outside, it was almost dawn. They couldn’t risk travel during the day. At least not on the surface.
“Okay,” Dreyfus said. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
* * *
As the sun rose over the city, Koba stalked among the highest beams of the unfinished building. He looked down on his conquest. The human settlement belonged to the apes now. It belonged to him. Fires still burned within it, and the apes pressed the humans into service, making them put the fires out… and learning so that they could do it themselves the next time.
Other apes lined these high beams, looking out over the city to the great orange bridge that had brought them here. As he passed, every ape bowed and offered a supplicating palm. He swiped them, not slowing down or looking each of them in the eye. He didn’t need to. He ruled the apes now.
At the far end of the metal skeleton sat Maurice, who looked at Koba without supplicating. Koba waited. Maurice did not move.
How dare he do this, in Koba’s moment of victory?
Koba felt his old friend—the rage he had carried with him since he first realized freedom might be possible—as it began to return.
Rocket pressed up next to Maurice and offered his own palm. Maurice looked over at him, and at last bowed his head and offered his palm. Koba swiped them both, slowly, making sure every ape within view was watching. Two of Caesar’s closest friends—only Koba had been closer—and now they were his.
But as he swiped their palms, he looked at Grey, who understood the look.
Watch these two, his expression said. They are defiant, and defiance must be dealt with.
Blue Eyes sat alone, looking back toward the mountains where his father had died. Koba stopped next to him and, after a breath signed, You fought bravely. Your father would be proud.
Blue Eyes lowered his head and hooted softly, still in pain over his loss. Koba did not remember his own father, and had only the vaguest memory of his mother. He did not understand what Blue Eyes felt. But he did understand how to use it.
Blue Eyes looked up and offered his palm. Koba swiped it.
My apes, he thought. Mine. Together strong.
53
Sunrise came a little later to the deep forest than it did the ridges up above. The animals and birds came to life around Malcolm, Ellie, and Alexander, who against the odds were still alive. But they were also lost. They hadn’t dared stay in one place long enough to sleep, not with apes tearing through the woods looking for them.
Maybe two hours ago, the ape sounds had died out as a mass of them gathered and headed down the mountain. Malcolm had a bad feeling about where they were headed, and what they were going to do. Of Foster and Kemp there was no sign. Malcolm hoped they, too, had made it through the night. But there was no way to know. At least they hadn’t heard anything that sounded like a bunch of apes killing two defenseless humans.
“Does this look familiar?” Ellie said, walking behind Malcolm.
“I think… I’m pretty sure we parked around here somewhere,” Alexander said.
Malcolm thought so, too. He recognized one of the rock formations that stood between the parking area and the river, at the base of a steep drop from the ape village, which was practically right over their heads. But anyone who didn’t already know that would have been unable to detect it.
Well, that would have been true until last night. Now there was smoke still rising from the fire, and from Caesar’s tree, burned to a charred skeleton that leaned out over their heads.
Using it as a reference point, Malcolm focused back in the direction of…
“I found it!” he called out. “Truck’s over here!” He headed that way and heard Ellie and Alexander follow.
“Okay, we’re coming,” Ellie said. Then they stopped again.
“What is it?” Alexander asked.
Ellie’s voice was low and scared as she replied.
“Stay where you are, okay?”
That got Malcolm’s attention. He doubled back toward them and saw Ellie crouch over something in the underbrush.
“Malcolm!” she cried. He got there and saw that under the brush was an ape. A moment later he realized it was Caesar.
A moment later, Caesar’s eyes moved, rolling in their sockets. They came briefly to rest on Ellie, then on Malcolm.
“He’s alive,” Malcolm said. “Can we move him?”
“We have to,” Ellie said. “It’s not like we can stay here.”
Caesar weakly tried to sign.
“I don’t understand,” Malcolm said. “Just hang on. We’ll get you some help.”
* * *
There was no way Caesar could walk. The effort would have killed him before they got to the truck. So Malcolm squatted in front of him while Ellie and Alexander got him sitting up.
Caesar reached over Malcolm’s shoulders
while Malcolm stood, reaching back to lock his arms under Caesar’s buttocks. The chimpanzee held onto his shirtfront. Malcolm stood, grunting with the effort. Chimps looked small, but they packed a lot of mass into their compact frames.
Nevertheless, he started walking.
Malcolm was in pretty good shape, since the past ten years hadn’t afforded much opportunity for leisure. Even so, he was panting and soaked with sweat by the time they got to the trucks. Correction—truck. The second one was gone. Either Foster or Kemp or both had made it out of the woods. Malcolm hoped to see both of them back at the Colony, if it still stood.
Carver’s battered body lay in the dirt by the lead truck.
“Alexander…” Malcolm said, about to warn him not to look.
“Dad,” Alexander replied. “I have eyes.”
So Malcolm let it go. He couldn’t protect a teenager from everything. Hell, these days he wondered if he could protect his son from anything.
They got Caesar settled in the back of the truck, and Ellie climbed in next to him. As soon as she could, she began cleaning and bandaging his wound. It was bad, but not as bad as it could have been. Caesar’s lungs were intact, and the bullet hadn’t hit his heart. The wound was high in his torso and still bleeding freely, but if they could get the bleeding stopped, he might live.
“My son,” Caesar gasped. “My family. Where are they?”
“We don’t know, “Ellie said. She wiped blood away from the wound and tried to get a bandage in place. “I’m sorry. Try not to speak, you need to rest.”
Caesar went limp again, his eyes rolling in his head. Ellie finished bandaging him and clambered forward to lean between Malcolm and Alexander.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” she said quietly.
“Is he gonna make it?” Alexander asked.
“We have to get the bullet out, clean the wound…” Ellie paused. “What I need is back home.”
“We don’t know what’s going on down there,” Malcolm said. “There might not be anything left. Best-case scenario, I don’t think the Colony’s going to be welcoming if we show up wanting to treat a wounded chimp.”
Ellie thought about this.
“What about Memorial Hospital?” she suggested. “It’s right over the bridge. It wasn’t completely looted. There might still be supplies.”
Malcolm nodded and looked back at Caesar.
“I don’t understand how this happened,” he said. “How the hell did Carver get another gun?”
Caesar grunted from the back. All three of the humans turned. Malcolm thought he’d tried to speak, but he couldn’t understand the words. Caesar tried again and this time they heard him clearly.
“Ape did this.”
An ape? Malcolm was stunned. It could only have been Koba. The whole show of supplication after the fight in the powerhouse… it had been a ruse. Malcolm grappled with the implications. Koba had planned and executed a coup, using Carver as a patsy and killing him to make sure he wouldn’t complicate the plan by telling anyone the truth.
“Apes?” he repeated, still not quite able to believe it.
Caesar nodded weakly.
Malcolm had even a worse feeling about what might be going on down in the city now. If Koba had pulled off a coup, and removed Caesar from power, his next move would be to consolidate that power. To do that, he would need to remove his other enemy.
The Colony.
They had to get back to the city. The only way to prevent an all-out war—if they could do that—was to make sure both humans and apes knew the truth. Malcolm started the truck.
“Buckle in, people,” he said. “I won’t be going slow.”
He hoped the truck would make it.
54
With the sun higher in the sky, Koba gathered the apes. Numbering in the hundreds, they clustered on the highest girders of the unfinished building.
“While humans hide,” Koba growled, “apes not safe! This… our home now. We must protect it. Find them… Cage them.”
Blue Eyes watched the apes around him. Some were uneasy, looking away from Koba. Others hooted and danced from foot to foot, freed by Koba’s hate, enabled to become animals again. Blue Eyes identified with the uneasy ones. He looked to Ash.
Everything happened too fast, he thought. Three nights ago, or was it four, he and Ash were chasing a speared fish. The wound on Ash’s shoulder was still fresh, the hair just starting to grow back where the bullet had seared it away. Beyond Ash, Blue Eyes saw the long arm of the crane reaching out from the girders. A metal ball and hook hung from the end of it on a cable, swinging a little in the wind.
“They forget… what they did to us,” Koba said slowly. “But Koba does not forget. We will make them remember. Go… Hunt them.”
The body of apes began to move.
Ash shrugged. They got up and moved, but Blue Eyes was already wondering if he had been right to defy his father. But it made no difference now. Caesar was dead. Koba led the apes, and where he went, they would follow.
* * *
Blue Eyes and Ash went with a group sent to search the building they called City Hall. Koba said that this was where human leaders did their work. He told them he thought more humans would hide there.
A pair of gorillas battered open the heavy doors on the front of the building, and the apes flooded in, peering up at the high, domed space with staircases and balconies running around its edge. Blue Eyes admired what the humans had built, and the builders themselves. He thought he would like to build something more than dwellings of sticks and mud.
Most of the apes did not give the space a thought. They flooded across the floor, scaled the walls and banisters, hooting and screeching to flush out any humans who might be cowering within. Blue Eyes knew it would be dangerous to stand out, so he and Ash went with them, running along the balconies, banging in doors and searching rooms full of nothing but desks and shelves filled with books.
“Run! Run!” It was a human voice, echoing from a nearby hall, up another floor on the broad main staircase. Apes surged up the stairs, and Blue Eyes went with them.
There was a small group of humans at the top of the staircase, and they ran into a large hall, the morning light shining down through high windows. They ran the length of the hall and stopped short, as they found that the back stairs were suddenly full of apes. Blue Eyes heard those apes screeching in glee over the humans’ panicked cries.
There was no need for Blue Eyes and Ash so they, with a few other apes, turned back to look through the level they were on. They ducked along a few narrow halls and offices, then came back to the stairs and started down. Blue Eyes looked over the railing. The floor was far away, polished and gleaming stone.
Noises from just above drew their attention. A group of humans ran out from the floor they had just searched. How had they missed them? The humans started to go up the stairs, but they heard the wild screeches of the apes up there and turned to come back down.
But Blue Eyes, Ash, and the rest of their group were there. They looked at the humans, waiting to see what they would do. One of them, an old man, his hair flying around his head like milkweed, suddenly lunged forward, swinging a metal pole at Ash.
“Gonna kill you!” the old human screamed. He kept swinging the pole in front of him, trying to keep the apes back. Behind him, an old human female huddled on the stairs. Blue Eyes could see that she was exhausted, and could run no more.
The old human swung the pole back for another swipe at Ash. Blue Eyes realized that he was no threat, and Ash was just waiting for him to get tired. But the old man staggered as the metal pole was jerked from his hands. He looked up and behind him, taking a step back when he saw Koba come out onto the staircase landing just above him.
The metal pole dangling in one hand, Koba looked down at the old human female. He looked back at the male and thrust out his arm, shoving him down the stairs to land in a groaning heap at Ash’s feet. The old human looked up at Ash, terrified and in pain from the fall
. Old humans, Blue Eyes understood, were like old apes. They were easily hurt.
Koba grunted for their attention. When they looked up, Koba tossed the metal pole down the stairs to Ash. Ash looked up at him and Koba nodded. Blue Eyes understood. Ash was to kill the old human as proof of his loyalty.
The old human understood this, too.
“Please,” he said. “Please don’t.”
Ash looked from ape to ape. All of them looked away to Koba as soon as he met their eyes…. All of them except Blue Eyes. Blue Eyes looked at his friend. He did not know what to say or do.
Koba came part of the way down the stairs, cutting the distance between him and Ash in half.
“Kill this one,” he growled.
Ash looked down at the old human, then at the metal pole in his head. He grunted something softly to himself. Blue Eyes couldn’t hear what. Then he shook his head.
Koba’s eyes narrowed. He came the rest of the way down to the landing, his gaze never leaving Ash. When Koba stepped off the last stair and was standing over the terrified human, Ash lifted his head. Blue Eyes was surprised to see a burning anger on Ash’s face. He set the metal pole down and signed.
This is not what Caesar would want.
Blue Eyes too looked up at Koba. If Ash could face Koba, so could he. And Ash was right. Caesar would not have done this, and Caesar would never kill an old, injured human—one who was no threat.
Koba nodded, rumbling deep in his throat. Blue Eyes had a flash of hope that Koba would see that he was going too far. All of this had gone too far. Blue Eyes had been wrong to defy Caesar. By doing that, he had given Koba more strength. Now, how many apes were dead? How many humans?
Blue Eyes hoped Koba was thinking the same thing.
Koba reached out and seized Ash by the scruff of his neck. Ash screeched in sudden fear as Koba dragged him up the stairs and around onto the balcony just above. Blue Eyes ran after them, and the other apes followed. If there was going to be punishment, they wanted to see it. Blue Eyes wanted to make sure Koba did not hurt Ash. Most likely he would make an example of Ash to cow the other apes. Blue Eyes understood that.