Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (17 page)

Tommy comes over and takes his leash then, and Milo’s.

“It was a stupid show anyway,” Tommy says. Then he takes them home.

* * *

Tommy drinks a lot of his burning juice and talks on the phone much of the time. He also sleeps a lot, and does not remember to feed Koba and Milo. Koba grows hungry, and anxious again. When he sees Tommy, he “smiles” and “talks.” He signs “food.” Tommy says something he doesn’t understand, and walks away.

One day he finally takes Koba out of his cage and holds out his leash. He leaves Milo in his cage. Milo points to his mouth, then to Koba.

That frightens Koba, and something about the way Tommy is acting scares him, too. So when Tommy comes close with the leash, Koba jumps back.

“Don’t you even,” Tommy shouts. He pulls out the stick, but Koba is more scared of having his mouth stuck together than he is of the stick. He has been hit by the stick so many times he almost isn’t scared of it anymore.

But this time Tommy smacks him on the side of the head, and Koba doesn’t even know what is happening. Then he understands that Tommy is hitting him again, and again, and again, and he suddenly knows that Tommy isn’t going to stop.

Koba feels something break in him, something hot, like the stuff Tommy made him drink. It wants out of him, and the only way it can get out is through his hands, his feet, and his teeth. He jumps at Tommy, knocks him hard against the cage, and then slams him to the ground and starts hitting him. It feels good.

Tommy covers his head and face with his hands and howls, submitting to him. Koba suddenly feels powerful,
in control, and it is a feeling he likes.

His head starts to clear a little. Tommy has submitted. Things will be different now. He steps back from Tommy.

Tommy lifts his head and stares at Koba. He still looks docile, frightened.

Then he screams. He pulls something out of his pocket and slashes at Koba. Koba feels something slice from his eyebrow through his eye and into his cheek. Everything goes black in that eye. With his other eye he sees blood, and it seems to be everywhere. He sees Tommy grab the leash and put it around his throat. Koba is trying to keep the blood from coming out of his face while Tommy ties him to the cage, in such a way that if he doesn’t keep his feet under him he starts choking.

Then Tommy starts hitting him with the stick again, and before long Koba doesn’t know anything at all.

* * *

It is later, and Koba is back in his cage. He hurts so much he can’t focus on anything else. The cut across his eye hurts terribly, but now he can see a little bit through it, even if things aren’t quite in focus.

Tommy comes by and looks closely at him. He has one of his smoking sticks in his mouth.

Koba tries to look submissive.

Koba good
, he signs.
Koba do tricks
.

Tommy laughs then, but it sounds awful.

“You’re too goddamn ugly now, anyway,” he says. “Now one wants to see you do funny little goddamn monkey things. Maybe if a part in a horror movie comes up, though.”

He stares at Koba’s face.

“One more little touch, maybe,” he says.

Then he sticks the burning end of his smoke stick into
Koba’s hurt eye. Koba screams and throws himself back against the cage, but he cannot go far enough to avoid the burning stick.

“I ought to burn out your other eye, too,” Tommy mutters. “But then you’d be no goddamn use to me at all.” Then he stumbles off. He falls, and makes a hard sound when he hits the floor. Koba barely notices, he’s in so much pain.

“God
damn
,” Tommy says, pushing himself up. Koba sees blood on his mouth. “Looks like I need another drink. Heh.”

He wags his finger at Koba.

“I hope you aren’t laughing at me,” he says. “If you are, we’ll have words later, you and me.”

Then he gets up and leaves the room.

* * *

Tommy feeds them the next morning. He changes their water. Then Koba doesn’t see Tommy for a long time. He and Milo grow hungry, but the thirst is worse. It takes away his strength. His legs won’t hold him up, and the cage hurts him where his body pulls against it.

Tommy returns. Koba doesn’t know how long it’s been. The lights have been off for days.

Tommy is carrying something. It is not the stick. It is smaller, and fits into Tommy’s hand in a different way. It has a hole in the end, about the size his little finger might fit into. He points it at him, and Koba knows whatever it is will probably hurt, but he is too sick from lack of food and water to care.

Tommy points it at him for a long time, and then he lowers it.

“Screw it,” he finally says. He opens Koba’s cage, and then slowly walks away.

Koba looks at the open cage door, unsure what to do.
He wants to go out, find food and water. But he’s scared of Tommy.

Suddenly he hears a loud
bang
. Then it is very quiet.

* * *

Koba can finally stand it no longer, and he leaves the cage.

He finds Tommy on the couch. He is lying slumped in one corner of it. His eyes are open but he doesn’t seem to see Koba. Just like Mother. There is blood everywhere, and the thing is in his hand.

Kobe decides to leave Tommy alone. Even though his eyes are open, he seems to be asleep.

He goes and releases Milo from his cage, and they go to the boxes, desperate for food and water. They find something sweet to drink, and the place where Tommy keeps their food, and they eat and drink as much as they can. Milo vomits, but Koba does not.

Then Koba lies down, and after moment, Milo joins him. After so much time in the cage, it feels so good to stretch out, to move all of his muscles.

He wakes with Milo pulling at him, frantically trying to get him back to his cage, but Koba doesn’t want to go. He takes Milo to see Tommy. Tommy is still sitting in exactly the same position Koba last saw him in.

Tommy sleep
, he signs to Milo.
Tommy not wake up
.

Milo seems unsure, but when Koba goes to the playroom, Milo waits, then follows. They play for most of the day. Koba thinks that Tommy will vanish, the way his mother did, but Tommy is still there when he looks again.

There are places in the house—square places in the walls, covered with cloth. Sometimes light comes from behind them, and sometimes not. Koba decides to look behind the cloth and see what is there.

What he sees is beautiful. He sees trees, and houses,
and most of all the blue sky and realizes that through this clear, hard stuff is
outside
. This reminds him of the door, the door Tommy takes them through when they get in the truck. It’s dark in that place, and it’s dark in the truck, but there must be some way out.

He and Milo go into the dark room with the truck. He can see light coming from under one wall, but he can’t figure out how to get out.

That’s when Milo seems to remember something. He goes to the wall and pushes something. Suddenly there is a loud grinding sound.

Koba jumps at the sound and chitters as the sliver of light gets bigger and bigger until they are looking at outside. He gingerly approaches it. He feels something in him, then gets an idea. What if he and Milo just go into the outside, and keep going? What if there are no more cages, no more tricks, no more beatings or shocks or fire pushed in his eye?

He tries to explain to Milo, but Milo is scared. So they find a safe corner and wait. Soon the outside starts getting dark, and Koba gets a little worried, too. But then he becomes determined.

Next time it is light
, he thinks,
I will go outside and stay there, whatever Milo does.

So he and Milo go back in the house to sleep.

Koba wakes up with a lot people talking. They are everywhere in the house. Some of them are looking at Tommy. Most of them are looking at Milo and Koba.

“Easy there,” a man says, as Koba sits up.

“Crap, look at him,” someone else says. “Is animal control on the way?”

“They should be here any minute,” the first man says.

Koba can see outside.

Koba go outside
, he signs.

“Watch it,” the second man says. “He’s doing something.”

Koba looks past the men. He points at outside.

The first man is now holding a thing like Tommy had pointed at him.

Koba go outside
, he says again.

“You know,” one of the people says, “I think he might be trying to say something. You know, like those monkeys the scientists talk to?”

“This one looks like the chimp on that TV show,” Somebody else says, pointing at Milo. “He has that same mark on his face.”

“You can’t tell one of these things from another,” the second man says. “They’re all just dumb animals.”

“Well, I can sure tell these apart,” he says, pointing at Koba’s eye. “There’s no way I’d forget that.”

Koba knows then that the people won’t help him. He knows there is only one way he can go outside.

He bounds forward, over the couch where Tommy will never wake up, through the open door. He reaches the grass, feels it beneath his feet as he runs with every ounce of strength in his body.

They run after him. Koba sees a tree and scrambles up it. It is hard—all those days in the cage cause his muscles to cramp, but it still feels good as he climbs up toward the sky. This time he thinks he might touch it, because there is no cage, and he can keep going up, up, higher until no one can even see him.

Something hits him in the side, hard, and it hurts so much he almost loses his hold. He puts his hand there and finds something sticking out of it.

He looks down, and sees lots of people looking at him. Some of them are pointing. He sees Milo, being led on a leash toward a truck.

Then he turns and begins climbing again, but it’s more difficult now, and everything is going strange. His hands and feet seem very distant, not connected to him anymore. His heartbeat is like a little fly buzzing in his chest. The sky above seems to be moving around the tree.

The last thing Koba is aware of is falling. He feels as if he is in the sky.

David didn’t turn, as the voice had directed. He ran like hell. It wasn’t a strategy or the result of a conscious decision. It was just what he did.

This time he heard the high-pitched whine of a silenced gun firing sas he sprinted back toward Church Street, with nothing but open ground around him. Then he heard it again. He didn’t hear the third shot because he was too busy being hit by it. White heat blazed through his back and the ribs on his right side, and his lungs suddenly felt hot, as if he’d been running all day.

He stumbled, trying to keep his feet under him.

The only part of his brain still working was the part that wanted to live, which meant he had to keep running, no matter what.

Except he couldn’t.

“Hey!” he heard someone shout, and realized it was the old man with the dog. He was holding a pistol.

Shit
, David thought.

He heard the
thwimp
of the silenced weapon, then the explosion of the decidedly unquiet weapon in the old man’s hand—once, twice, three times. David lay there,
feeling the blood leaking through his ribs, wondering why he wasn’t dead yet.

He finally lifted his head and saw the soles of the old man’s feet, close by and pointed at him. When he turned around, he saw a younger man with dark glasses, lying in a similar position.

David sat up cautiously. He saw a few people running away—everyone else had already gone.

He pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. The old man was clearly dead, but he checked for a pulse anyway. The dog, a Pomeranian, whined and licked at his deceased master’s face. The other guy—the one who had tried to kill him—had a bloody hole where his nose once had been, and another in the middle of his chest.

David stumbled back to his knees and began to vomit. When he was finally done with that, he shakily took out his cell phone and dialed 911.

The phone told him that the network was overloaded.

He looked around. There wasn’t another soul to be seen.

Swearing at the pain in his side, trying to get his thoughts in order, he began searching through the murderer’s jacket. He took his wallet and his phone, but didn’t find anything else of significance.

Then he left the scene, limping, holding his side. He stopped and looked at the old man again, then at the body of Linda’s sister.

God, what have I done?
he thought.

He couldn’t think of where he should go. All of the hospitals were slammed, and if he went to one, he would probably catch the plague anyway. He had a first-aid kit at home, but going there seemed like a bad idea. Had they followed her or him to the meeting? Was his phone tapped? What if another guy with a gun was waiting for him at his apartment?

How did he have a hole in him? How could someone shoot three people in a city park? This happened to other people, not to him. Other people in other places.

But now it was happening to everyone, wasn’t it? He felt a sudden plummet in his gut as he realized how fragile civilization really was. All of this steel and stone and glass around him seemed strong, durable, and dependable. It was built to withstand earthquakes.

But a civilization wasn’t made up of its buildings. The pyramids had outlasted the pharaohs and the Colosseum remained long after the Roman Empire. Civilization, in the end, was about rules and norms that people agreed to follow. And that was weaker than tissue. He remembered a satirical article he’d once read, about people who had resorted to cannibalism after being stuck in an elevator for fifteen minutes. He’d thought it was hilarious at the time.

Now it didn’t seem funny at all.

He needed an emergency room, but he knew they were all slammed.

Talia, he realized, then. She didn’t live far from here.

* * *

He buzzed five times before she answered.

“Who the hell is it?” the intercom crackled.

“David,” he said. “Talia, it’s David Flynn.”

He heard the intercom click off, then back on.

“David, I just pulled a seventy-hour shift,” she said. “I’m not in the mood—”