ZooFall

by Lawrence Ambrose

  One by one, the poor male slobs carried up what Gary figured were gifts trying to win the bitches' favor. Even his eyes couldn't make out too many details in the flickering light: some of them seemed to be pieces of meat, baskets, something that looked like a coconut tree. The females stood as still as statues, not even seeming to glance at the groveling chodes. When the males had apparently shot their gift-wad, the females did an about-face and strutted out of camp, leaving the gifts lying in the grass.

  But wait just one frickin' moment!

  A pair of monkeys led two people to their front ranks and the females stopped in their tracks. The two people both had long blond hair. One was female, the other... Gary leaned forward, gripping the edge of the press box roof. Sure looked like that hot MILF, Sonja Jensen and her faggot son, Donny. Well, damn, this was something!

  Gary thought he recognized the baboon holding Sonja Jensen. Bigger than most of the others and, had sort of a swagger to him. The leader, old Scar Head? The other ape looked like a buffoon, all slouchy and kind of tubby around the middle with a head that reminded Gary of an anvil. One ugly fucker, even for a monkey.

  The females turned around and strolled back as if they'd spotted something interesting in the shopping aisle but nothing worth getting all excited about. Three females stepped from the front line and approached the new offerings. Sonja and her girlie son were looking at each other and probably talking. Hard to say from nearly two hundred yards away.

  The monkey males thrust the two people away, and the three females circled them, occasionally reaching out to touch or stroke their bodies, which caused them to jump away. Gary heard the harsh barking of the Nazrene, and one shoved Sonja hard enough to send her sprawling to the ground. When Donny tried to help her up he was yanked back and ended up with his ass in the grass. Gary shook his head. And the little wimp was supposed to be a genius. From here, he looked like a retard. Those things could knock off his sissy little head with one gentle tap.

  The Planet of the Apes chicks resumed circling the two when they stopped fighting the inevitable and stood still. One of the females removed a pink sash from her neck and placed it around Sonja Jensen's neck. Another female stepped up and dropped a green sash around Donny's neck. They turned away and a group of females closed on the boy and his mom and escorted them after the females who'd selected them.

  A deal had been struck, Gary thought, but what did the male monkeys get out of it? Maybe the chimp chicks would give them a pretty pink scarf or something?

  Gary hopped off the press box and climbed down the back of the bleachers, dropping the last thirty feet to the ground. He was jogging around the field toward the area south of the Hub when he noticed a weird-looking tree or plant rising up maybe fifteen feet from the grass that hadn't been there before: a trunk that looked more like a giant vat, with three spiny limbs jutting from its bowl-shaped top. No way would he have missed that.

  It made a puffing sound as he jogged past. Clouds of fine dust or plant matter drifted over him. This can't be good. Gary started to sprint away, but what felt like tight elastic bands around his legs constrained him. He looked down, but there was nothing but the mist, which was already dissipating in the breeze. Shit, some kind of drug? He exerted his powerful muscles, but he was Superman after inhaling a lungful of Kryptonite, managing only a clumsy stagger. His spear fell from his futilely clenching hands.

  The thing – tree, plant, whatever the hell it was – was there towering over him. Hadn't even seen it move. Next thing he knew its spiny limbs were scooping him up. Its top opened in a gaping, circular mouth. The stench blowing into his face was horrendous. But that was the least of his concerns as the spiny limbs and their grasping leaf-hands – which felt a lot like claws latching onto his arms – released their hold, plunging him into a steamy vat of burning liquid.

  "What the fuuuuccckkk?" he cried.

  The good news was the searing liquid or the intense vapors burned away much of his paralysis. Bad news: he was being cooked alive and the pain was ten million fire ants stinging every square inch of his body. He figured he had seconds before his skin and muscles turned to Lutefisk. But while he'd dropped his spear, he still had his big Bowie knife. Time to go to work.

  He drew his machete-sized knife and leaped in the same motion, blasting up out of the pool of fiery juices and jamming the knife into the side of the stomach or whatever the hell it was. The fleshy muscles there quivered and a deep thrumming shook the inside, but the knife held and Gary hung on it like a mountaineer hanging on a crampon.

  Another rumble passed through the walls, followed by a deep, shuddering groan – or so, Gary thought. Suddenly the walls convulsed inward and a geyser of acidic liquid blasted upward. His big knife popped free and he was carried upward –

  And expelled into the sky. He rose in a high arc on the fountain of digestive juices and then fell, slamming into the ground. He lay in the dew-damp grass, his skin on fire, gazing woozily up at the stars – fairly sure he'd be seeing them even if they weren't there.

  Flesh-smacking sounds and hoarse human-like cries made him crane his neck off the ground. The tree-thing was under attack by what appeared to be human figures launching spears and swinging clubs. A person with long hair loomed over him, bending down enough for Gary to glimpse breasts. A girl! And those breasts weren't anything to sneeze at. Nice and shapely, barely confined by what looked like a leather halter-top. She was holding a club with spikes protruding from its head.

  "Hey, sugar," he rasped. "What's up?"

  The girl made a clucking noise like a hen, cocking her head. One of the people attacking the tree monster growled something at her and she backed away, turning to glance at him as she ran to join her people.

  The tree monster had been driven to the ground, and its human assailants were thrusting spears into it and wielding their clubs in applying the finishing death touches. Jeez, they were really kicking that thing's stumpy ass. Almost made him feel sorry for the creature. Shit, even monsters gotta eat.

  "Thanks," he muttered, but the group was already running off, the girl casting backward looks at him. Funny, how they appeared to be wearing loincloths and leather and shit. Maybe the alien zoo had Neanderthals or whatever. He had to admit, they looked kind of cool.

  The burning sensation had retreated. Now his skin was itching like he had the measles again – courtesy of his dimwit mom not believing in vaccines. But that was okay. He seemed okay. Took a lot more than a hungry tree monster to finish him off. Seemed he'd given it a pretty bad case of indigestion. Gary chuckled.

  He pushed to his feet, muscles singing. His stomach, too. He guessed something trying to eat him had gotten his own appetite going. One problem. Feeling the breeze on his balls made him peer down. The only thing remaining was the leather belt that held his knife sheath. His shorts were missing, probably dissolved by the tree monster's digestive juices! Maybe Zurzay wouldn't care, but he couldn't return to Diana and Laurie looking like this. His eyes lingered on his package. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of. That was for damn sure. Hell, seeing him like this might get her and Laurie's minds on the right track. Who knew? But come on, dude, focus. He had a mission to complete, and he needed something to eat. Plus, he needed to piss.

  He passed the tree-creature, laid out on the ground like a fresh-cut sapling, but moaning and gasping, seeping brownish liquid from a variety of spear-holes. The smell reminded him of maple syrup. They had a tree on his grandparents' farm that leaked that stuff. Layer it on some pancakes and it couldn't be beat. He reached down and dabbed some on his fingers and smelled it. He touched his fingers to his tongue. Damned if it didn't taste like maple fucking syrup! He licked his fingers clean. The tree-thing moaned again.

  "Don't mind if I do."

  Gary slicked some more of the blood/syrup on his fingers and sucked them dry. Tasty. Then, noting the limbs curling and flapping spasmodically at the tree-thing's top, he had an idea. He bent down and with a soft grunt bent and twisted one of t
he limbs off. The tree monster emitted a high trilling sound. Gary chomped off a piece from its end, surprised by its gritty, meaty flavor. Not bad, not bad at all. Maybe, if the thing was part-plant, it might contain some extra vitamins and shit and not as much cholesterol. One thing his New Age mom had been right about: when he'd added more leafy greens to his diet, his sports performance had improved. Really was something to be said for eating your vegetables along with a good slab of steak.

  Feeling inspired, he dipped the branch/arm into the maple syrup blood. Bingo! He hungrily consumed the limb one mouthful at a time, pausing periodically to dip it in the blood syrup. This shit really hit the spot!

  Semi-sated, Gary retrieved his spear and left the now limb-less and silent tree monster, heading south toward the female Nazrene camp. He found an unoccupied spot on a nearby hill overlooking the camp and studied it while picking his teeth with a hard, fibrous wedge he'd torn from the tree-creature's trunk.

  Unlike the males, who slept in the open between their fires, the "chick-chimps" had tents seemingly constructed of the same colorful cloth they wore. Gary figured Sonja and Donny Jensen were in one of those tents. He thought the tents might actually make it easier to steal away the two since they blocked the sight of the others in camp. He doubted he'd have too much trouble finding the tent or tents they were in.

  For many moments, Gary contented himself with picking his teeth and dreaming of rescuing the two Jensens. Well, mostly Sonja Jensen. He'd spotted her picking up her daughter a few times, and that etched her sufficiently on his mind to inspire a few hot fantasy sessions late at night in the privacy of his own bed. Now he could see himself slipping into one of the tents, tossing her over his shoulder, and getting the hell out of Dodge. Maybe stop on the way somewhere and get to know her better.

  A glance downward confirmed his excitement at that prospect. Damn. Seriously, he needed to get covered up somehow. He felt naked without his clothes. Duh. Gary slapped himself upside his head. Concentrate. He sucked down a few breaths and edged images of a naked and pliant Sonja Jensen out of his mind.

  First of all, Diana had told him "reconnaissance only," ordering him to avoid "engaging" anybody. He snorted. As if he'd had a choice about that. But he did have a choice about rescuing somebody. Doing that would definitely violate their agreement. Still, he was a free agent, a free man, and could make up his own mind. Besides, who died and made Diana Mann queen?

  Gary couldn't see anything wrong with at least taking a look closer to the camp – try to sniff out the Jensens. Also, maybe steal some clothes that might be lying around. The female Nazrene weren't built that much different from him, other than being dork-free, so he figured he could make that work.

  He descended the hill toward an outer line of tents. No sign of any guards. Probably didn't figure they needed any. Who would dare attack them? As he got closer, he realized locating the Jensens' scent was going to be a bit harder than he'd thought, owing to the dense fog of intense, perfume-ish smell hanging over the camp. He'd never been a big fan of perfume, though he'd played along with his girlfriends when they asked him if it was sexy, but man, this stuff clogged his sniffer as if he'd inhaled a gallon of Roundup – and it didn't smell much better. Jeez, what was it with women anyway? Even the chimp chicks had to dress up and wear that shit when all their guys probably wanted – just like human dudes – was hot, juicy, and naked?

  Gary moved along the outer ring of tents, using his other heightened sense --hearing – as he strained to clear the cloying perfume from his nostrils. Most of the tents were filled with monkey chatter – girls gotta talk, after all – but he paused at a chatter-free one. Placing an ear against the satiny fabric, he listened with everything he had and heard nothing, not even breathing. He smiled. This could be the opportunity he'd been looking for to do some much-needed personal redecorating...

  He edged around the tent to its entrance. The nearest fire was around sixty feet away, and it was unattended. So far so good. The light was more than enough to illuminate the inside of the tent for his eyes. Empty, except for a few small boxes, what appeared to be a sleeping mat, and a pair of coveralls or whatever they called their outfits. Bingo!

  Gary slipped into the tent. Approaching the coveralls, the perfume odor was so strong it made his eyes water. Be a man and just grab the damn thing! Which he did. But on the way out the garment got tangled in its hanger and started to pull down the whole damn tent. Shit! He backed up and carefully untangled the top of the garment from a thin wooden rod attached to the tent's ceiling. These had to be the fussiest fucking chimps in the universe!

  He was so focused on disengaging the outfit that he didn't note the soft approaching footfalls or the muted hiss of parting fabric – until a tall dark figure blocked the entrance. Then, adding it up in retrospect, he told himself: Idiot!

  Jizibex, First Servant to Queen Azerval – Preserver of the Colors of Life – was first filled with shock at this bizarre intrusion and then overcome by outrage.

  "You filthy vermin!" she snarled. "You naked, primitive, mindless beast! How dare you soil the holy ceremonial robes with your foul touch!"

  What the fuck? The chimp was jabbering in the same tone his sixth-grade math teacher once used to lecture him. Why hadn't she attacked? What the heck was she saying?

  "You are not worth my spit," the First Servant, Jizibex, foamed. "Or I would kill you where you stand!"

  She raised her hand, but her claws slicked in and out indecisively. This was clearly a male, a native and yet not so different from their own, and not entirely displeasing of shape. Hairless, yes, but not hideous. Without fur, its muscles were vivid and oddly enthralling.

  Her gaze strayed downward. The similarity between this creature's mating member and those of her own males was startling. Not that she, a mere servant, would ever be permitted to know the use of such a member.

  What the fuck? Gary couldn't believe he was actually starting to blush. Am I crazy, or is that chimp actually checking out my package? And blushing wasn't all –

  Oh, fuck. No way. No way was this happening –

  "You ignorant beast – you dare show your desire to me!" Jizibex extruded her claws and opened her mouth, feeling the poison sacks at the rear of her throat contract but not enough to deliver their deadly contents. She closed her mouth. The primitive native's maleness had swollen to unexpectedly impressive dimensions. It held her eyes as did the first rays of Salinth on the dawning of the Blood Rainbow Festival.

  "It is not for me," she whispered, moving closer to the native, her claws sliding back into her raised fingers. "No, this cannot be for me."

  She kept coming, and those fingers slowly extended and came to a rest on Gary's bare chest. They were about the same height, and they were staring into each other's eyes. He had to admit, her eyes were a nice shade of red. She eased against him and he felt the moist entrance to something strange and yet wonderfully familiar.

  "Holy shit," he whispered.

  Five frantic, bone and flesh-crushing minutes later, Gary was scrambling from the tent, a multi-hued outfit in hand, while harsh snarls issued after him from the tent.

  Whoa. Gary paused to shake himself a couple of hundred yards from the female tents. Did that really just happen? Talk about your hot monkey love!

  He tried to slip into the female Nazrene clothing, but it had a bunch of weird fasteners whose mysteries even his night vision, not to mention his brain, couldn't penetrate without more light.

  The brightest source of light in the area was the hub. A golden glow that made Gary think of early-morning sunlight on a summer day extended out maybe fifty yards all around the shopping mall-sized building – and it looked to Gary like a well-lit shopping center parking lot, minus the cars. He settled down just outside the perimeter of light and watched.

  There was plenty to see, as a parade of zoo creatures – many he'd never seen before – wandered in and out and around in the ring of light, sometimes making angry noises or issuing what seemed like c
hallenges without any fights breaking out. He was pretty surprised because some of the creatures seemed eager to get busy with each other, but every time one would start to bite or a take a swing they stopped...as if some invisible force was holding them back.

  More interesting, many of the things, including several male Nazrene, entered the building or spaceship itself. The doors didn't open or close so much as disappear and then reappear. Gary had a flash of a Roach Motel – maybe it was a trap for the creatures? – but he witnessed some of the same ones waltzing in waltzing back out a few minutes later. He had the thought of entering the Hub himself if it would let him. But first things first.

  When the coast was relatively clear, Gary edged into the light and examined his Emperor's new clothes. The pieces appeared interconnected by rows of clips or broaches that resembled a jigsaw puzzle. He remembered his mother or sister sometimes asking for help with a necklace or something, and he'd always hated fumbling with the stupid clasps. It was if they were designed to make a guy feel dumb, and this girl monkey outfit was no different.

  A giggle jerked his head up. A red-haired girl swathed in Stone Age leather stood forty feet away, covering her mouth. The same girl from behind the bleachers? He thought so. He shielded himself with his brightly hued outfit, which drew another giggle from his primitive human audience. Women – always the critics.

  "Instead of standing there laughing, maybe you could help me," Gary growled at her.

  The girl uncovered her mouth, her smile turning more serious as she studied him. He waved the clothing at her in invitation. She took one step toward him. That's it. He waved the outfit again. She set her face in determination and strode over to him, one hand on the studded club hanging at her side. Up close, she had a nice sturdy little body and a kind of cute face, with big lime green eyes, though a bit heavy in the nose and jaw. Gary guessed she was a teenager, though it was hard to say since she was a cave chick and all.