The Final Winter: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel

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The Final Winter: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel Page 29

by Iain Rob Wright


  Nearby, several plush, cube-shaped chairs of varying colours were arranged in front of a wide plasma screen. Joe eased Danny down onto a purple one. “Just wait here one sec, little dude, okay?”

  Danny nodded obediently and sat still.

  Joe examined the boy for a few moments, saw how frightened he was, and then kissed his forehead. “I’m proud of you, Danny.”

  The zoo employee had moved over to the far wall of the hall and was fiddling with a bright yellow, rubber-cased walkie-talkie. It didn’t seem like the man was having any success in gaining information, and his wrinkled brow gave away his frustrations. Joe approached slowly, trying to seem calm rather than agitated, somehow feeling that rationality would be at a premium right now.

  When he got close enough, the zoo keeper looked up from the radio. “Sir, may I help you?”

  “Hello,” Joe replied. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  The man shook his head and his spectacles jittered on the bridge of his long nose. He readjusted them before speaking. “Not the foggiest, I’m afraid. I can’t reach any of the zoo keepers to find out. A couple of the visitors I’ve spoken to have mentioned animal attacks, but they were too distressed to provide details. Seems unlikely, though.”

  Joe thought about the snake attack. “You don’t think an animal attack is possible?”

  “Possible yes, but extremely unlikely. The enclosures are secure and the staff are dedicated, experienced professionals. There’s never been an incident of such a kind in the seven years I’ve worked here.”

  “Sorry to disagree,” Joe said, “but I just watched a large snake kill one of your staff about ten minutes ago, over by the World of Venom building – a boa constrictor, I think. It squeezed him to death in front of a dozen people.”

  The man’s face dropped. “Terry? I pray that you are mistaken, sir, I truly do. Terry has been with us many years and loved Betsy a great deal.”

  Joe raised an eyebrow. “Betsy?”

  “Yes, Betsy. She is the zoo’s Pearl Island Boa. She’s always been extremely gentle. I can’t believe she would ever attack anyone – least of all Terry. They had a…bond, for want of a better word.”

  Joe nodded. He didn’t want to upset the man further, but thought he needed to wake up to whatever was happening. “Maybe he’s okay,” Joe supposed. “It did all happen suddenly.”

  The other man thought about things for a moment and his expression seemed to get grimmer with each passing second. Finally, he looked back up at Joe and said, “I believe you. It doesn’t seem like you’re lying, and I see no reason why you would. Something is obviously going on, but I just cannot fathom the idea that any of our animals would attack their handlers. There are too many precautions.”

  “Look, I don’t mean to be impatient, but you’re the only representative of the zoo I could find. You need to do something.”

  “And what exactly would you have me do? I am a curator, not a crowd controller.”

  Joe sighed. “Nevertheless, you have a responsibility.”

  The man looked at Joe for several seconds before replying. “I suppose you’re right. I should find out what’s going on.” He pushed Joe aside, headed for the front of the hall, and spoke over his shoulder as he went. “I still don’t believe things are as bad as people are-”

  Joe turned around to see why the curator had stopped mid-sentence. He could hardly believe his eyes as people started to scream. Four lions blocked the far entrance to the visitor’s centre and were snarling at the people inside. Each of their fangs was the size of a tent peg and syrupy-thick blood dripped from their jaws.

  Joe had a feeling that he was about to have a very bad day.

 

 

 


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