ZooFall

by Lawrence Ambrose

  "It's us!" a voice called out in a hoarse whisper from a horned demonic beast. "Sonja, it's me!"

  "Dan – oh, thank God!"

  "Move away from the guards – both of you."

  The two huge Azrene raised their spears.

  "Back away, you foul abominations!" the bigger of the two snarled, lifting a hand to her nose to block the stench. "Return to wherever waste pool you have crawled from or we will skewer you where you stand!"

  The menagerie of monstrosities halted on the other side of the pit.

  "Shall we kill them, Cyssiz?" the other Azrene asked.

  "And then deal with their stinking carcasses?"

  "The Queen may wish to identify them. Do they not speak the hairless ones' language? She may be curious about the nature of such hideous creatures."

  "You may be right. Very well. Spears and swords. They are not worthy of our spit."

  They reared back to hurl their body-length spears. Twin flashes of light pierced the night – followed by two explosions, which both guards heard only as distant thunder before darkness absorbed them.

  As the guards dropped, and the explosions from Gunnar and Dan's rifles echoed off the nearby trees and penetrated the nearby camp, Sonja and Donny raced around the pit to their costumed saviors.

  "Hurry, babe! Donny! Get these on. We'll talk later."

  Diana and Laurie stepped forward quickly to assist them.

  "Mom! Donny!" Laurie sobbed.

  "Baby!" They exchanged hurried hugs.

  "No time," Dan snapped. "Come on, Gun, let's drag the bodies into this dung hole. Maybe that will buy us some time."

  Their solo attempts to move the huge Azrene coming up short, they worked together to drag them one after another into the pit. Cries rising from the camp told them that this time their gunfire wasn't going to be ignored.

  "Things are heating up," Gunnar grunted, giving his guard a final shove over the lip of the pit.

  "We need to go," said Dan. "Toss the Azrene clothes into the pit, too."

  They started off toward the north, Donny and his mother running awkwardly in their ill-fitting costumes. They'd gone maybe sixty yards when a line of Azrene burst from between the tents behind them.

  "Never make it to the woods," Dan rasped. "Need to take a stand."

  From their left, to the west, another body of figures was loping in their direction. Dan, Diana, and Gunnar scoped them out as they ran.

  "The males," said Diana.

  "We need to start thinning them out now," said Dan, slowing down. "Give them pause for thought."

  "That might work," said Gunnar. "But something else is coming to me..."

  GARY BLINKED as he and his new clan emerged from brilliant daylight into the Hub's soft glow blanketed by nighttime stars. He strode in a wide, squatting stance, lowering himself to near the height of his Stone Age companions, staying in the center of the group. And good thing, he thought, seeing the row of Nazrene shift toward them, suspicious gazes raking over the cluster of cave people. Gary hunkered down some more, glad for the animal pelts covering his body and particularly the one covering the dark hair on his head. A few of the men and women wore the hats, too, so he didn't stand out.

  Still, the mass of Nazrene moved to block their path. One of the tallest monkeys jumped out in bold relief for Gary. Oh, fuck, it's Scar Head! The big bastard definitely got an eyeful of him standing beside Molly. And he sure as hell was giving him the eye now.

  The Nazrene closed ranks as the cave people continued forward. The cave people closed in, too, squeezing the women and children and Gary into the center of their circle, bristling spears transforming the cluster into a walking porcupine of sharp points. The men narrowed their eyes, the muscles in their thick legs and arms bunching, stout bodies bracing for battle. They were leaving and they weren't gonna let a bunch of damn apes get in their way!

  Gary wasn't sure they were doing it for him or not, but he was pretty sure the Nazrene would leave the Stone Agers alone if they knew he wasn't among them. And there seemed to be a question in the slant of Scar Asshole's head. Come on, baboon-dude, I'm just a cave dude hanging out with his homies and his brand new semi-hot squeeze. He wrapped an arm around Twiggy, whose tense expression broke into a fleeting smile and warm green goo-goo eyes, and for a long moment, Gary was cast back into the warm and wet memories of the night before –

  "Shhahogogun!"

  The scarred monkey son-of-a-bitch was pointing a hairy finger straight at him, his eyebrows – low enough already – scrunching down even more. Well, the jig was up, as they said. Time to step up and be a man and run like fucking hell –

  Two rifle shots cracked through the tense silence. Gary froze. Scar Head's gaze jumped from him toward the females' camp. His gang followed his change of focus.

  They're here. Gary grinned, despite himself. It's on. Right now. Fuck, yeah!

  The Nazrene leader grunted and pointed and, with a final hard glance at Gary – a promise of things to come – Scar Head and his fellows started away, breaking into their ground-eating three-legged lope.

  The bristling porcupine creature the cave clan had become deflated. Spears lowered, breaths were taken and released. Cautious smiles spread from the men to the women. Twiggy was hugging Gary's arm and grinning up at him adoringly again. Gary gazed after the departing Nazrene and down at his Stone Age chick – and sighed.

  "Sorry, babes-skins, but my friends are under attack," he said, gently pulling free of her grasp. "Gotta boogie. Maybe I'll see you when it all gets sorted out, you know?"

  The girl's smile slowly collapsed in on itself. She didn't know his words but she could read his face. Now the others of his new band were frowning at him, too, a low rumble of disapproval and puzzlement spreading through their ranks. He pointed in the direction of the shots and tapped his heart before pointing again. Something like understanding glimmered in Twiggy and their eyes.

  "Later, dudes," he said, slipping through their bodies to freedom.

  AS THE Nazrene and Azrene parties converged on each other north of the female camp, they encountered a loose gathering of gruesome-looking horned and winged creatures writhing around on the ground in the apparent heights of carnal ecstasy, hooting, and growling and squealing loudly enough to awaken the Sleeping Gods of Nazrene. The simian tribes paused to watch in repulsed disbelief.

  "Disgusting mindless animals!" an Azrene warrior snarled, holding her nose.

  "How can they stand their own putrid smell?" another demanded.

  The leader of the male contingent signaled impatiently that they were wasting time, jabbing an urgent finger at the woods a half-mile north of them.

  "Impudent brute dares to command us?" the Azrene warrior grumbled. "But it is true. We are wasting time. The hairless cowards are surely fleeing into the woods!"

  The groups sprinted off, an invisible line keeping males and females on either side as they ran – the males in their distinctive semi-quadrupedal gallop, the females running upright with great, springing strides. As the hundreds of simian-creatures melted into the night, the "mindless animals" ceased their licentious squirmings and vocalizations one by one.

  "I can't believe that actually worked," said Gunnar, his large hands still gripping the hindquarters of a she-demon perched on her knees.

  "I can't believe my first time would be in a fairy costume," Donny complained, rising from the sprawled form of Penny, also a fairy.

  "If you don't let go of my ass," said Diana, straining to rise out of Gunnar's grasp, "you're going to wish they'd caught us."

  "Sorry." Gunnar released her with a chuckle. "Guess I got carried away with my satyr role."

  They all pushed to their feet, snatching up the rifles their bodies had been hiding. Dan and Diana were the first to scan the woods to their north with their scopes. At first, they saw nothing but trees. Then a number of figures popped out of the fringes of the woods. Some of them pointed in their direction and cried to the others.

  "I think
they've figured us out," said Gunnar.

  "I think we need to run," said Diana.

  "To where?" asked Dan. "We can't outrun them."

  "The safe zone!" Diana cried.

  They broke into a full sprint. Diana ripped off her head-piece, gasping down her first cool breath of air in the last two hours. The others followed suit, tossing their monster heads in the grass and joining her in relieved breaths. Yet even headless, for Diana sprinting in her suit was like one of those nightmares where you're running through molasses or in slow-motion while being pursued by vicious nightmare beasts. Which was now the exact reality. Diana guessed they had at least two hundred meters to reach the nearest point of safety at the Hub. The creatures were maybe four or five hundred meters behind. That math didn't work in their favor. Would it be worth it to stop and tear off the rest of their costumes? Diana wasn't sure.

  "Not going to make it," said Dan, as if he'd been silently following her gloomy math. "I'm going to take a stand. The rest of you run on."

  "And miss my chance to be a hero?" Gunnar snorted, slowing with him.

  "Myth and I and Curly will slow them!" Penny cried. "We can run fast enough to avoid them!"

  "She's right," said Myth. "All of you run into the safe zone. Penny and I will distract them."

  No time or energy for debate – and not much motivation to argue the point, Diana thought. They would all almost certainly die if they took a stand. At least she and the normal humans would.

  Myth stopped and opened fire immediately. Penny ripped off her fairy costume, snatched her rifle from the ground, and yelling at Curly "Stay! Stay!" joined the alien in a withering fire. Screw it. Diana stopped and tore off her costume. A precious and seemingly eternal fifteen or seconds and she was free. While the others paused to do the same, Diana placed her IR sights on the nearest pursuing simians and popped off a few rounds. Several of them dropped – and not just the ones she'd targeted. Some were taking evasive action. Penny and Myth's fire was further disrupting their advance, causing creatures to dodge or hit the ground or run with their bodies hunched down. The end result: the simians were slowing. And now the light of the Hub's no-fight zone beckoned, not seeming quite so unreachable.

  Running in her shorts and tank top in the cool night air was a joyous release. Even losing the costume's five or six pounds was incredibly liberating. For a few seconds, Diana felt young again, like the track athlete she'd once dreamed of being.

  A glorious few seconds rudely interrupted by a group of simians charging from their left. A chorus of spitting sounds prompted Diana to raise her forearm to her eyes in time to block a stream of burning liquid. She dropped to one knee, whipping her rifle off her shoulder and firing blindly. A pained grunt and stumbling footfalls nearby told her she'd scored at least one hit. A spear flashed past her head. She dropped flat to the ground as her people started firing behind and to one side of her. Too close. She half-expected a bullet to smack the back of her head as she lay there. Lowering her elbow a fraction, she saw the figures retreating into the darkness as swiftly as they'd charged.

  Penny and Myth returned, shouting out warnings, firing volleys in retreat. The attack had delayed them just enough: their original pursuers were upon them.

  "Form up!" Dan shouted. "Come together!"

  Soon she, Gunnar, and the Jensens were back to back, facing out on their attackers, continuing to shuffle along as a group. Curly lunged past, bringing down a snarling male ape. Myth and Penny remained at large, racing about just out of the clutches of the male and females, firing opportunistically. It was impossible to count individuals in the swirling mass around them, but they seemed legion. A female was screeching something.

  "They're being ordered not to throw spears!" Myth called out in her strangely beautiful soprano. "The Azrene want us alive!"

  Happy to sacrifice the males, Diana thought. Seemed in keeping with their relationship from what she'd seen. And it was probably all that was keeping them alive.

  "I'm out!" Penny cried in a distraught voice.

  "Run to the safe zone!" Diana yelled.

  Somehow, stumbling along, they'd managed to close within fifty or sixty meters of the lit safe area. The Nazrene/Azrene didn't appear to be on the same page, she thought. The first group had tried to kill them, but the second group seemed conflicted. The males obviously weren't gung-ho on charging into gunfire or hanging around close enough to be clear targets. But as they neared the safe zone, the females' screeching demands finally propelled the Nazrene into a mass rush on the clumped together humans.

  Their rifle volleys smacked down and slowed the first wave, but the second pounded into their midst, sending the group sprawling on the grass. In a daze, Diana raised her rifle, which was torn from her hands. She reached for her pistol, but a Nazrene crouched on her chest, pinning her arms and driving the air from her lungs. Clawed fingers of one hand closed around her throat, just penetrating her flesh. She couldn't turn her head but by rolling her eyes she got glimpses of several different skirmishes. Penny had reached the safe zone and was telling Curly, whose grey-blue coat appeared splattered with blood, to stay.

  The Nazrene pinning her peered down at her with glowing red eyes. Déjà vu. Last time a baboon had her pinned Zurzay had swooped down and plucked the baboon-creature off her. She had a feeling wolf-lightning wasn't going to strike twice.

  Then Penny rushed in and snatched up the rifle lying in the grass at her side and fired two rounds into the head of the Nazrene planted on her. She darted off to help the others. Growling with the effort, Diana dug herself out from under the big male and crawled to her feet, drawing her pistol. A male standing nearby lunged at her. Diana blew a 10 mm round into his throat and then between his eyes. She instinctively shot another hairy figure in the background – a female – who sagged into the arms of a female at her side. A wail of pure anguish followed Diana to the edge of the light. Just three more steps –

  She was seized from behind by her shoulder and thrown to the ground. While Diana wondered if her spine was still intact, a huge female crouched over her, a stone knife the size of a small state in one hand. Saliva dribbled from his snarling, panting muzzle and burned into Diana's face. The knife rose.

  Diana caught the female's wrist with both hands as the knife plunged toward her chest. The combined strength of both arms barely slowed the knife's descent. The obsidian blade was entering the flesh just above her collarbone when another large hairy figure appeared suddenly, grasping her assailant's neck and twisting violently while dragging her off Diana's chest to the sharp crackle and pop of breaking vertebrae.

  Looking up at her benefactor, shock dawned by slow, dazed degrees. Scar Head! The Nazrene leader stooped, offering a huge hairy hand. In a wondering haze, Diana forced one arm off the grass and reached past the offered hand to clasp the thick wrist. She was hoisted to her feet and stood swaying in his grasp. Angry grumbling rose around them. The Nazrene leader eased her backward a few steps before releasing her with a small nudge. Diana staggered back into the Hub's circle of light and safety.

  She wasn't alone. Laurie, Donny, and Sonja were there, hugging each other. Dan and Gunnar came limping out of the darkness, flanked by a gun-toting Penny and Myth while the leader and a large contingent of Nazrene stood silently by. Diana raised her hand to the leader, realizing suddenly why he might've intervened on her behalf. The time I let him and his people pick up their bodies outside the second alien cylinder. She was unsure why he and his people were standing by and letting the others pass. A deal with the Azrene gone wrong?

  The leader raised his hand, meeting her gaze for a long moment before turning and loping away with his fellows.

  GARY FOLLOWED the gunshots toward the Azrene camp, a few hundred yards behind the males. When the males, led by Scar Head, curled north of the camp, Gary stayed with them, but when he spotted nothing except what looked like some zoo animals rutting in the grass far head – something he normally would've been keen to check out but for now he had
to stay on track – he adjusted course to the main body of tents.

  Slipping in between the tents, Gary was greeted by the sight of his erstwhile partner in crime, Molly, hanging high over the flames of a bonfire in the center of the main clearing. Got her again! A mixture of anger and sadness made his muscles twitch. Below her, the chick-chimps were all in a tizzy, huddling around their Royal Highness, babbling and screeching in chimp-talk – pumped up and agitated about something. He thought he knew what that something was.

  Had they already rescued Sonja Jensen and her kid? Kind of looked that way, or they wouldn't be so freaked out. But where were his people? On their way back to their camp?

  The one thing he was sure about, and could not tear his eyes from, was Molly hanging over the fire, now shorn of her colorful clothes, her chocolate and gold fur darkened by smoke but not appearing actually burned – hanging there like a piece of meat being smoke-dried into jerky. And while he contemplated her, as if a sign from God or fate, the head chimp and her minions swarmed out of the area – some running out between the tents, others following their leader into the largest of the tents.

  Molly twitched and moaned – a plaintive cat's soft cry. She's alive.

  Gary gripped his spear, emotions warring in him. The easy and smart thing to do was to hightail it back to camp, where the others were headed or maybe already waiting. But when was the last time he'd done something easy and smart? And how the fuck did Molly end up there anyway? Last time he saw her was in the Rodney King Zone. She must've turned herself in. In which case, to heck with her.

  But he didn't know that. For all he knew, she turned herself in to save him. Yeah, that made sense. The way she'd been pointing to herself and making denying gestures to him when talking to Her Majesty – he was surer than ever that Molly had been negotiating with Queen Bitch to save his butt. And now they'd strung her up like a sack of shit. Well, fuck them. Time for ole Gary to put on his super-cape once again.