The World's Last Breaths: Final Winter, Animal Kingdom, and The Peeling

by Iain Rob Wright

  Joe pulled the other man up and the two of them galloped back towards the red doorway as quickly as their battered bodies would allow them. All around, fierce lions lay mewling like wounded kittens. The whole effed-up situation was surreal – like Alice in Wonderland on crack.

  The two men passed through the door into the corridor. The waiting curator slammed it shut immediately behind them. The automatic bolt let out an echoing clack!

  Joe slumped back against the door and took a steady breath. It seemed like the first in a long time and the air stabbed his lungs as if he were breathing in carpet tacks. His heart was threatening to rip right through his chest. But at least Danny was still safe, still sitting on the bench against wall. The young brunette woman sat beside him, apparently making conversation and trying to calm his nerves – or perhaps her own. Joe’s heartbeat slowed down a little, but he couldn’t help shake the feeling that things were not yet over.

  In fact, he had a feeling they were going to get worse.

  1

  “Time I learned your name, sir.”

  “It’s Joe.”

  The curator shook his hand. “My name is Mason. I am the head curator of the zoo and I thank you for all your help. I don’t think I could have taken charge like you did.”

  “Just wish so many people hadn’t gotten hurt. How many made it?”

  “There’s seven of us, including you and your son, but even more people would have been injured if it wasn’t for you, Joe. You’re a hero and people owe you their li-”

  A short, pudgy man with neatly-combed oil-black hair wedged himself between the two of them. He glared up at Mason. “Perhaps you two could stop flirting for one moment and tell me what the hell is going on! I can tell you right now that this wretched place will never open its doors to the public again after I’m through with it.”

  Mason’s expression did not change. “And who might you be, sir?”

  The pudgy man’s features scrunched up in disapproval. “Who am I? Who am I? I am Christopher-bloody-Randall! That’s who I am.”

  Mason shook his head. “I’m sorry?”

  “From Black Remedy Investments plc. You know, the company that paid for this very building you’re standing in right now? Show me a little more respect, because I have a good mind to demand our investment back right now. This is not what I expected when I came here for a simple business meeting this morning. It’s a fiasco.”

  Again, without any discernible expression, Mason shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t involve myself with the zoo’s finances. That would be the concern of the park administrators. I apologise for any inconvenience to you, Mr Randall, but I think you can clearly see that we are all equally affected by the day’s events.”

  The angry little man went bright red now and began to wheeze. Spittle formed at the corners of his bulbous lips. “Now you listen here. I own this building, which means I own you. I need to get out of here immediately, do you hear me? My business here is finished and I have a very important meeting to get--”

  Joe had heard enough. “Look, mate, I don’t know what mental illness you’re currently taking medication for, but people are dead. Nobody gives two shits if you have a business meeting with the Queen. Unless you intend to be helpful, please just do us all a favour and fuck off! Excuse my French.”

  The investor spun to face Joe, toe to toe, but seemed to lose his spirit when he realised the difference in size and height. Joe probably weighed six-stone more than the man and towered over him like a lead statue.

  The man still hadn’t lost his attitude completely, though. “How dare you speak to me like that. Do you know who I am?”

  “You’re Lord Randall of Asshole-land. Thanks, got it, don’t care. Just sit down while Mason and I actually try to do something constructive.”

  Randall shook with anger, glaring at Joe as if he were excrement on his Ralph Lauren loafers. Fortunately it seemed he had finally run out of patience and he stormed off down the corridor. Joe took the opportunity to glance over at Danny, wondering if he should go and check on him. His son had lain himself down across the brunette woman’s lap and was nearly asleep. Joe decided to leave him alone for a few minutes more.

  He turned his focus back to Mason. “That guy was a jackass.”

  Mason nodded. “Investors always are. Black Remedy bought shares in the zoo last year and they’ve acted like they own the place ever since. They don’t see the zoo as way of preserving the world’s great nature, they just see pound signs. Still, he has a right to be angry after what has happened today. No doubt he is correct about the zoo’s future being rather bleak.”

  “How could this happen, Mason?”

  “I really can’t say. Nothing like this has ever happened before. All of the dangerous animals are kept inside high-security enclosures. The only way in or out is through twin-layer fences. You enter one, close it, and then open the second. There’s no way an animal can escape.”

  Joe nodded. “I understand the type of thing you mean, but, whether it’s plausible or not, the lions got out somehow.”

  “Indeed they did.”

  Joe waited for further comment, but it appeared that the curator had none to make, so he decided to speak instead. “Okay, just keep trying to reach someone on your radio. I’m going to go check on my son.”

  Mason nodded and Joe left him alone under the bright lights of the corridor. Over on the bench, Danny was still lying on the brunette woman’s lap. She was stroking his head tenderly. Beneath the harsh light, Joe could see that the woman’s wounds were shallow and already healing. She’d been lucky.

  “Hey,” Joe said as he approached her. “Thanks for looking after my son.”

  She smiled glumly and it was then that Joe saw she was in fact just a girl, not a woman. Dark bags beneath each of her eyes gave the impression that she was older, but her smooth white skin betrayed her real youth.

  About twenty maybe?

  “Least I can do after you saved my life,” she said.

  Joe blushed. “Wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I would.” The girl offered out her hand. It was slender and recently manicured, but many of the painted-pink nails were chipped and broken, probably from her ordeal between the snack machines. “I’m Grace.”

  Joe noticed a recently-healed scar that lined the back of her wrist, along with several older, faded wounds. He didn’t want to be rude by staring, so he averted his eyes. “Pleased to meet you, Grace,” he said and the two shook hands. “I’m Joe and this is--”

  “Danny. Yeah, I know. He told me before taking a nap. He was worried about you out there. You shouldn’t be such a hero.”

  Joe acknowledged his selfishness. If he’d been hurt then Danny would be all alone in this dangerous situation. What the hell was he thinking, running around out there like Joe-the-lion-tamer? He couldn’t risk leaving Danny alone again.

  I won’t.

  “Mind if I wake him?” he asked.

  Grace laughed. The sound was delicate and fragile. “He’s your son. Be my guest.”

  Joe knelt beside Danny and gently shook one of his tiny legs. “Hey, little dude! You awake?”

  Danny opened his eyes slowly, pupils widening gradually like ink stains on cloth.

  “Everything is okay now,” said Joe. “Daddy’s back.”

  Danny smiled and closed his eyes again as if wanting to get back to some wonderful dream. He muttered under his breath, “Can I stay here with Grace?”

  Joe raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Danny to form bonds so quickly – not since the divorce – but he supposed it couldn’t hurt. Joe looked up at Grace. “That okay?”

  Grace nodded. “Sure. Could kind of do with a rest myself. Wish I could just switch off like him.”

  “There’s a quiet-room on the right,” said Mason, approaching from down the corridor with walkie talkie still in hand. “It’s where we put visitors when they’re not feeling well. There’s a sofa-bed inside.”

  “Excellent!” said G
race, her face lighting up like a beacon. “Come on, Danny.”

  Joe watched the girl lead his son to the room on the opposite side of the corridor before disappearing inside. For some reason he trusted her, and he relaxed knowing that Danny was in her care. Maybe it was the feeling of having a women’s support that made him feel that way.

  It’s been a while.

  Mason placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “I couldn’t reach anyone. I got some static and some garbled voices, but nothing I could get a fix on. From the brief connections I made, things seemed pretty bad. No one is answering.”

  Joe raised his eyebrows. “No one at all?”

  Mason’s stiff expression gave nothing away about his feelings, but Joe had a feeling the man was beginning to crack. Slender creases at the corners of his eyes seemed to widen as he spoke. “There are a dozen zoo keepers here today and they all carry walkie talkies – just like this one. Not one of them is replying. I can’t imagine what that means.”

  “I can,” said Joe, “and it’s not a nice thing to think about. You tried phoning anyone outside the zoo?”

  Mason shook his head. “That was what I was going to do next. There are phones in the offices upstairs. I should be able to call right through to the administration building at the rear entrance. Office staff don’t generally work the weekends, but there’s usually one or two people there on a Saturday. Mr Randall said he was here this morning for a meeting, so perhaps the members of the board are around too. They may be able to shed some light on the current situation.”

  “Good,” said Joe, scratching the stubble on his wide chin. It seemed to have grown inches in just the last hour. “What about the building we’re in? Can we get out any other way than the door we came through?”

  “There’s a fire exit at the end of this corridor and we can also enter the cafeteria, which has several more exits. I don’t know if it would be wise to try to leave, however.”

  Joe looked up and down the corridor, taking in the scene of shellshocked survivors. In addition to the rude investor, Mr Randall, there was also an elderly woman with grey hair sitting right next to a heavily-tattooed bald man. It was a strange sight to see such opposites placed side-by-side.

  “I think I agree,” Joe said after some consideration. “My son and I are going nowhere until those lions are dealt with.”

  Mason adjusted his spectacles. “We should get everyone assembled and come up with a plan, even if it’s only to sit and wait for rescue.”

  “Agreed,” said Joe. “Is there somewhere more comfortable we can all go? I don’t think people will be able to calm down in this corridor. It’s too close to what happened.”

  Mason took Joe’s arms and led him a few feet down the corridor. “There’s a staffroom in this part of the building. It’s a large area with enough places to sit and a few refreshments. I’d say it would be best place to reconvene for now. We can always move upstairs later if we need to. The building is pretty much empty, today being the weekend. There’ll be plenty of room. In fact, I think we’re the only ones here.”

  “Let’s get going then.”

  Mason clapped his hands together and got the attention of the other shell-shocked survivors. “Okay everyone, can I have your attention, please?”

  Silence from everyone. Glazed expressions and teary cheeks. From the other side of the exit door, the wet smacking sounds of lions feeding on corpses could be heard in vivid detail.

  Mason continued, despite the lack of audience response. “We are going to follow this corridor down to its end and enter a staffroom beyond. It is comfortable there, warm and safe. We should gather whilst we wait to learn more about this…situation.”

  “And what is the situation?” asked the Black man with the grey sideburns. He was still carrying his dented fire extinguisher.

  “We don’t know,” Mason answered. “Obviously there has been a breach in the lion enclosure, but as to how that happened, I do not know. I will try to contact the administration building shortly – and the emergency services of course – but first we need to get ourselves situated.”

  “Who are you to give orders?” It was the investor, Randall. The man’s mood had obviously not improved.

  “I am no one to give orders,” Mason calmly told him, “but as the only one offering practical advice, I see no harm in having people do as I say for the time being.”

  “If you hadn’t allowed this to happen in the first place then I would have a little more trust to afford to you, my friend.”

  “Mr Randall, if you feel better blaming me personally I am happy for you to do so, but my advice is that we group together somewhere more comfortable. If you or anybody else does not wish to follow that advice then you are free to do as you like. Those who do wish to follow my suggestion may come with myself and Joe, who, may I remind you, was the one that helped a majority of you in the first place.”

  “If that’s your advice,” said the man with grey sideburns. “Then that’s what I’ll do. I don’t see the point in all this negativity and arguing.” The last comment was directed at Randall who seemed less than impressed at being called out.

  “Let’s go then,” said Joe. “I’ll get Grace and my son and we’ll be off in five.”

  A heavy thud rattled the red door behind them on its hinges. The lions were trying to break through into the corridor.

  Joe’s eyes widened. “Or maybe we should get going right now.”

  2

  Randall could not believe he was running down a corridor to get away from lions. It was the biggest screw-up he had ever known, and when it was all over this dump of a zoo would pay for it. To think his company had actually provided obscene amounts of cash to improve the facilities here. Positive publicity, the marketers had claimed. What a load of rubbish. He’d be claiming back every penny now and more. The place could rot for all he cared.

  “This is ridiculous,” said Randall – wheezing heavily – to a tattooed man running alongside him. “Don’t they have guns here…or… or something in place to control animals when they…get loose?”

  “Tell me about it!” The man’s reply was in a thick Scottish accent. The word ‘about’ sounded like ‘a-boot’ from the man’s uncouth mouth. “They must be running the place with a bunch of wee ten-year-olds. Someone is gonna be knee-deep in bother when this is over, mark my words.”

  Randall sniggered. “You can say that again, my friend.”

  The shambling group of survivors slowed down at the end of the corridor and the idiot curator turned to face them all. “Okay everyone, once we get inside we should barricade the doors right away. I don’t think I need to tell you why.” The man paused so that they could all listen to the banging coming from the door down the corridor behind them. Randall didn’t appreciate the dramatics, but kept his silence as the man continued. “Once that is done, we can all do our best to relax while I try to contact the authorities.”

  No one spoke and Randall didn’t blame them. What was there to say in a ridiculous situation like this? And to take orders from one of the men responsible for it made things all the more worse.

  The curator pushed open the door at the end of the corridor and stood aside whilst people filed into the room ahead. Randall listened to the erratic thudding getting louder behind them. It was all very confusing.

  Can lions behave like this? Smashing through doors to get at people after already devouring several bodies already? It can’t be hunger.

  The tattooed man beside Randall patted him on the back. “They best have a kettle in there, pal. I could kill a brew.”

  Randall took exception to being touched by the rough-looking gentleman, but even more to being called ‘pal’. He didn’t acknowledge his disapproval, however, because he was next in line to enter the staffroom up ahead. Randall stepped through into a large teal-carpeted room, featuring several sets of brand-new tables and chairs, several vending machines, two pool tables, and a modest kitchenette. The room was backed by a horizontal window that r
an the entire length of the wall.

  Is this what our money paid for? Somewhere for staff to laze about? Maybe they should have spent the money on better security for the animal enclosures. Then I wouldn’t be suing them into bankruptcy.

  Randall found a seat and placed himself down while the rest of the group seated themselves. It felt good to take the weight off his feet, gave him a chance to use his inhaler. It would not do to idle for too long, though, because he had somewhere important to be. The head of one of China’s biggest tyre manufacturers would be waiting on him to discuss an investment in their UK strategy. It was just one more industry that the Chinks were planning to monopolise and Randall decided it was better to get into bed with them than to resist. It could cost Randall’s company millions if he missed the meeting – and Black Remedy were not a firm that took kindly to incompetence. There was a long line of other investors eager to make the deal with the Chinese if Randall didn’t. Lions or no lions, he had to get out of there.

  I’ll spare ten more minutes, then enough is enough.

  The curator stepped into the staffroom along with his giant blond accomplice, the one who had been rude to Randall earlier. A young brunette girl and a small boy with a tatty backpack also accompanied them. He was pretty sure that the boy belonged to the blond man.

  Probably an insolent little brat like his father.

  The curator pushed the door closed and locked it, then turned to face the group. “This door is not especially heavy,” he said, “so I think it would be wise to slide one of the pool tables in front of it. Do I have any volunteers?”

  Yeah right! Randall scoffed. Don’t expect me to start lugging furniture around for you.

  There were a few volunteers but Randall paid them no mind. The only concern he had right now were the ticking hands on his Omega watch. Each second could be costing him money.