Joe screamed out for help. “This thing is gonna rip my goddamn arm off!”
Victor stomped towards Joe, covered in his own blood and with a look of pissed-off determination on his face. He deftly dodged the other two monkeys that blocked his path and made straight for the third, the one wrapped around Joe’s arm.
“Bloody oversized rats.” Victor snarled and produced a menacing knife from somewhere on his person like he were performing a magic trick. “Time to get busy, Martha,” he said to the blade, then casually slit the monkey’s throat. The animal fell limply from Joe’s arm, hit the floor silently, and quivered as blood streamed from its body.
Joe stumbled away, clutching his arm. Weeping gashes covered his flesh, but none seemed too deep to endure. He looked around the corridor and immediately spotted the other two monkeys who were still an active danger. “Quick,” he shouted. “We have to get them.”
Victor shoved Joe back, holding his knife out in front of him. “You two get back upstairs. Me and Martha can handle it from here, no bovva.”
Joe went to argue, but Bill put a hand on his chest and eased him away. “Let’s get your arm looked at. I don’t have the stomach for this.”
If Joe was honest, he didn’t either. He avoided looking back as he made his way up the staircase. The wet stabbing sounds and animalistic shrieking was enough to turn his stomach inside out.
Joe couldn’t stop shaking. Neither he nor Bill talked about what had just happened downstairs – how calmly Victor had brandished that knife.
Did he call it ‘Martha’?
I should be thankful of the guy, Joe thought. He did what no one else could. Probably saved my arm. Still, would like to know where he got that knife from.
He must have been carrying it the whole time.
Joe had a bad feeling, but it wasn’t worth worrying about for now. He re-entered the seminar room and sat down next to Grace. Danny, Bill, and Mason were there also. Randall and Shirley sat away from the group – Randall with his head buried in a book. Shirley gazing out of the window. Joe placed his hand on top of Grace’s. “Thanks for looking after Danny,” he said.
She smiled. “I think he was the one looking after me. I was worried.”
“Really,” said Joe. “Worried about me?”
Grace’s cheeks went red. “Yeah. Bill, too, of course.”
Joe nodded. “Oh. Well, we’re both okay, luckily.”
“What happened down there?” Mason enquired.
“There were some of those monkeys that got inside.”
“Crab-eating macaques.”
Joe raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“They’re crab-eating macaques. If they’re the same ones that were at the staff room window, that is. Not usually dangerous, but a large group of them can get into a frenzy.”
“Okay, well, these…macaques…had nearly gotten the door open when we got there. A bunch of them were already in the corridor. They were attacking Victor. Luckily we managed to get the door closed again. We secured it with some tables.”
“What happened to the macaques that had already gotten inside?” Mason asked.
Joe glanced at Bill, who looked away sheepishly. Joe didn’t feel the need to freak everyone out with the gory details or what Victor had done. “Well, erm…Victor sorted them out. Managed to grab them and throw them back through a gap in the door while we held it open a crack.”
Grace was next to speak. “What’s Victor doing now?”
Bill answered. “He’s securing the door some more. Making sure it’s nice and solid.”
Everyone seemed satisfied with the version of events, so Joe changed the subject. “Do we have anything for my arm?” He looked down at Danny, who had put his head into his hands when he’d seen his father’s blood. He lent forward and whispered, “I don’t want Danny upset. The wounds look worse than they are.”
Mason slid his chair back and stood up. “Of course. I apologise for the delay. I should be able to find a first aid kit in one of the labs.”
“Labs?”
“Yes. We are in the zoo’s research wing, after all. There are several laboratories for testing and examinations, as well as a veterinary surgery that is used to treat the animals. Unfortunately, none of the vets are here today.”
Grace laughed. “Think we’ll have to play doctors and nurses ourselves then.”
Mason smiled back, but the gesture was strained. “Quite.”
Joe watched Mason walk away and hugged his son around the shoulders with his uninjured arm. “I’m gonna be okay, buddy. Just a few scratches.”
Danny didn’t lift his head from his arms and Joe wondered whether he was sobbing. “How can you look after me,” his son mumbled, “if you can’t look after yourself?”
It hurt Joe to hear his son had such little faith in him, but it was probably warranted given the circumstances. Joe continued patting Danny on the back as he spoke. “Even heroes get hurt, buddy. How about when the Warrior had a curse put on him by Papa Shango? Or when Macho Man got bitten by a snake?”
Danny lifted his head slightly, then put it back down again. “Or like when The Model blinded Jake the Snake with his cologne?”
“Exactly,” said Joe. “They all got hurt, but it didn’t stop them, did it? I’m still fighting, and I’m still going to protect you.”
Finally, Danny looked up. He gave a cheery smile but his young face didn’t wear it correctly amongst the tears.
“Don’t cry, Danny,” said Grace. “Your dad is a hero. He’s been saving people all day. Nothing will happen to you with him around. He’s too big and strong.”
Danny giggled. “Do you like my dad?”
Grace blushed.
Joe saved her the agony of answering. “Danny! Don’t ask people questions like that.”
“Sorry, Dad.”
Joe tussled his hair. “Okay. No problem, buddy.”
At that moment, the door swung open and Victor stepped through. He was no longer covered by blood except for the staining on his clothes. Everyone in the room was quiet, but he didn’t seem to notice their reaction. “All done down there,” he chirped. “Those hairy bastards shouldn’t be able to get through any time soon.”
Joe suddenly felt increasingly protective of his son in Victor’s presence, but tried not to show it. “Great!” he said. “We all owe you one.”
“How did you get the blood off you?” asked Bill, eyeing the man’s multiple scratches.
Victor grinned, teeth showing like rows of daggers. “Magic!”
Bill frowned. “Huh?”
“I grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and sprayed myself clean. Stung like buggery, but luckily it was just scratches and nothing nasty.”
“Same here,” said Joe, examining his own shallow wounds.
Before anybody said anything else, Mason entered the room.
“Couldn’t find a first aid kit?” Joe enquired when he noticed the man wasn’t carrying anything.
Mason shook his head and seemed lost for a moment. “Huh? Oh, yes. I mean, no. I got distracted. I…I think you should all come and see this.”
Joe stood up. Whatever Mason had seen was not going to be good news.
7
“What are they doing?” Joe looked around at the rows of cages that lined the laboratory on all sides. “They’ve gone insane!”
“No shit,” said Victor. “Was that not clear to you, pal?”
Joe ignored the comment, mainly because he was so horrified by what he was seeing. Dozens of small animals, trapped within cages, were hurling themselves against the steel bars, screeching furiously as they bled and bruised. The noise was deafening, made worse by the incessant clanging of the bars being struck by frantic bodies. Worst of all was the smell of shit hanging in the air like a wet blanket.
“What are they doing, Dad?” Danny asked.
“I don’t know.” Joe studied the various species of frenzied rodents and small mammals. “I think you better go back to the other room wi
th Grace while we figure this out.”
Grace obliged without complaint and took Danny’s hand, leading him back out of the room. Joe stepped further inside and joined up with the other men, who were already deep in conversation around an aluminium operating table in the centre of the room.
Bill was talking the loudest. “They’re gonna smash their own skulls in just to get at us!”
“I know,” said Mason, cringing as the intense racket grew even louder. “In fact I think some of the smaller animals are already dead.”
Sure enough, Joe spotted a couple of dead rabbits in a nearby cage, skulls smashed in and leaking pink and grey sticky fluid. He swallowed, trying to stem the bile rising in his stomach. “What could cause them to act like this?”
Mason shrugged. “There is nothing in recorded science that could override an animal’s instinct to survive – at least not on a mass scale. Even rabid dogs wouldn’t smash their own skulls in a blind rage.”
“Obviously something has caused this,” Randall said. “You obviously just lack the required knowledge to explain it.”
“I agree,” Mason admitted. “I lack any knowledge of what could cause this.”
Randall seemed smug. Joe felt like punching him.
“But so would any other person in my field,” Mason added. “This defies explanation. I don’t know of any virus or biological condition that would present in this way. Even rabies would not present on such a wide scale.”
Bill sighed. “I think what caused this is irrelevant now. What we need to think about is how to defend ourselves. What do we know about this thing, so far?”
The group thought for a few moments. Then Victor said, “We know that they’re after us. Those wee monkeys downstairs were single-minded in taking chunks out of my arse. Nay else mattered to them. Like they were possessed or something.”
“Yes,” said Mason. “It’s quite clear from what we are seeing in this very room that the animal’s instincts are being entirely over-ridden by the desire to attack us; even at the expense of their own well-being. Whether or not they are ‘possessed’ is a different conversation altogether though. What else do we know?”
“They’re working together,” said Randall. “I saw them from the window in the seminar room. They were moving in groups, searching for people. Even animals that would usually attack each other like wolves and those brown, spotty cats were working together.”
Mason rubbed both hands against his pale face. “Lynx. The zoo has eight Canadian Lynxes. They would have been the cats you saw – and you’re right, the wolves should have attacked them. It is most disturbing. It appears that the laws of nature no longer exist. The animal kingdom has lost its natural instincts and replaced them with one prime directive: extinguish all human life. We are now at the bottom of the food chain, hunted by all other species.”
“Not quite.” Bill was standing over by the cages. “Look.”
Joe and the others moved closer to the cages and saw what Bill was pointing at.
Mason leaned forward and examined closer. “The birds!”
Joe nodded. “The birds aren’t affected.”
The two plump, brightly-coloured macaws were extremely agitated, but it was clear that they were not suffering from the same malady as the other animals. They were just normal, frightened birds.
Victor spoke up. “So whatever’s happening isn’t affecting the birds? Grand! That makes my day a whole lot better.”
“Sarcasm aside,” said Mason, “this bodes well for us. If this phenomena had affected avian species then we would surely have been doomed. There are hundreds of thousands of birds in the UK alone and there would be no way to defend against them. This is very good news.”
Joe agreed. He didn’t like the thought of being in a real life version of The Birds. “I wonder if any other species are unaffected.” he said.
“I suppose time will tell,” said Mason. “For now, we should close this room off. Just in case the animals get free.”
“Fuck that,” Victor said. “Let’s euthanise the bastards.”
“We will do no such thing! Many of these animals are endangered species.”
“So what! They’ve gone feral.”
“I will not allow it!”
Victor pushed Mason aside and pulled out ‘Martha’, shocking those that had not yet seen her.
“Victor!” It was Randall speaking.
Victor spun around. “What?”
Randall went and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We are all going to have to work together now, so if our good friend, Mason, wants to leave these animals…intact, then I believe it would be best to do so – in the interest of cooperation. We should not be brandishing knives.”
That’s weird, Joe thought. Maybe Randall’s not a complete git after all.
Victor’s face scrunched up. “If these things spring loose,” he said, “you’ll wish different.”
“Perhaps,” said Randall, “but for now these animals seem secure enough not to concern us. Put the knife away, my friend.”
After a brief hesitation, Victor finally returned Martha to her hidden sheath behind his back. He glared at Mason. “These things get free and it’ll be on your head.”
Mason nodded and Victor stomped away, joined by Bill and Randall. Joe waited behind. “We should go too,” he said to Mason, eying up the creatures rampaging inside their cages. “Maybe they’ll calm down if they can’t see us.”
“I hope so. They only started acting up once I entered the room. They were silent prior to that.” Mason clicked his fingers. “I almost forgot again. I need to get you a first aid kit.”
Joe laughed. “My arm will be hanging off by the time I get a bandage.”
Mason allowed himself to smile and walked across the room towards the far wall. Sitting atop a filing cabinet was a bright green box. Mason reached out for it.
Then recoiled and hissed.
Joe rushed towards him. “What is it? What happened?”
Mason clutched his hand against his chest. “Something just bit me!”
Joe skidded to a halt on the floor tiles. “Shit! What was it? What bit you?”
Mason’s hand had started to bleed from two round puncture wounds. Red globules dripped onto the ground. “I don’t know. Be careful.”
Being careful was not advice Joe needed. He trod carefully towards the filing cabinet, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. As he got closer, he could make out a delicate scratching sound from behind the first aid kit. Something was definitely there.
But what?
Joe looked around for a weapon – something that would put some distance between him and whatever hidden creature had bitten Mason.
“Over there.” Mason pointed. “There’s a set of steel tongs for holding hot materials.”
Joe saw the implement and grabbed it off the nearby table. The long metal rod felt good in his hands, empowering him enough that some of his nerves faded away. He crept towards the filing cabinet. Positive that the scratching sound was becoming louder.
“What should I do?”
Mason came up beside Joe, still clutching his wounded hand against his chest. “I don’t know. Just be ready. Whatever it is was small and quick. You may only get one chance.”
“What happened to your views about euthanasia?”
“The bugger bit me.”
“Fair enough.” Joe prepared to attack. He held out the tongs in front of him and aimed them towards the first aid kit. “Ready?”
Mason nodded. “Ready.”
Joe prodded the first aid kit and knocked it onto the floor.
Yikes!
There, amongst a stack of papers and a pencil pot, was a snarling brown ferret the size of an obese house cat.
Joe swung for the bleachers.
“Damn it!”
A miss.
The ferret leapt towards Joe, claws outstretched and ready to draw blood. Joe spun around and managed to sidestep. Mason ran in the other direction. Joe
readied himself for another swing. “A bloody ferret? Seriously?”
“They were going to add them to the petting zoo,” said Mason. “They had one up here to assess its temperament.”
Joe swung the metal tongs again – missed – struck the hard tile of the floor, sending a tingling sensation from his wrist to his elbow. “I think its temperament is grumpy.”
The elongated animal lunged at Joe again. This time it managed to get a bite-hold on his lower leg, thick incisors burying deep into the fatty flesh of his calf. He hollered in pain, poked at the rodent with the tongs, tried to grip and twist the animal’s elongated body away from him.
“Jesus, this thing won’t give in.” Joe felt needle-like fangs burrowing deeper into his skin, scraping against bone.
He screamed louder.
Mason rushed forward and tried to kick the rat away, but the man’s complete lack of athletic prowess was evident. His kick missed completely and he stumbled onto his knees in a tangle of his own cumbersome limbs.
With the thrashing rodent continuing to take a chunk out of his calf, Joe looked for an urgent solution. Attached to one of the desks was a gas valve, leading to a Bunson Burner. He hobbled over to it.
The burner turned on easily enough – Joe’s memories of high school physics helped him through. The sudden flame licked about two-inches into the air. He turned the inlet valve and sent the flame another inch higher. Without hesitation, Joe pushed the tongs into the flame, heating the tips. The ferret continued to rip and tear at his flesh, but he had to bear it for just a few seconds longer. If this was going to work, he needed to wait.
The acrid smell of burning dust filled the air. The metal tongs began to turn red.
Joe waited a few more, unbearable seconds, until he could take the dizzying pain no longer, then he pulled the tongs away and carefully lined up the molten pincers on either side of the ferret’s thrashing head.
He clamped the tongs shut.
The animal immediately released its grip on Joe’s leg and screeched in a pitch so hellish that it hurt his ears. The noise sharpened as the tongs tightened. Eventually, the ferret’s squeals weakened into breathless whimpers, fading away to total silence. The furry body went limp. Joe released the tongs, letting them, and the ferret, fall to the floor.
The World's Last Breaths: Final Winter, Animal Kingdom, and The Peeling Page 6