“Pull!”
she yelled.
All three of them pulled. Angie's muscles
ached. She strained as hard as she could. She pushed her foot
against the door frame so hard the thin metal of the frame
bent.
Park gave Bobby one last hard kick to the
forehead. Bobby grunted, blood spattering from his mouth, then let
go.
Angie and the kids heaved upward. Park rose
to the lower edge of the doorway. He grabbed the edge, his
fingernails clawing at the carpet, and pulled himself the rest of
the way up. Maylee and Dalton let go. Angie let go, almost falling
over backward.
Park stood up. He spun and
slammed the glass door shut. “Fuck me backwards!” he said, panting
into the glass.
“You okay?” said Angie, her
back and knee aching.
“Yeah.” Park nodded, then
turned to look at Angie and the kids. “You guys okay?”
Maylee and Dalton nodded.
“Yeah,” said Angie.
Park nodded. Angie walked over to the glass
and looked down. The truck was destroyed beyond any hope of
driving.
Park saw what she was
looking at and smirked. “So much for the truck, I
guess.”
“Looks that way,” said
Angie.
They fell silent, staring
at the truck. A soft scratching noise wafted through the
apartment. Scritch-scritch-scritch .
Angie looked around,
stepping away from the glass door. “What is that?”
Park looked around. Maylee
and Dalton looked around. Scritch-scritch-scritch .
Angie's back went taut.
“Shit,” she whispered “The door.”
Everyone listened
intently. Scritch-scritch-scritch . The noise
was coming from the front door. From the hallway beyond.
Angie put a finger to her lips and slowly
walked through the living room, toward the foyer. Park slipped the
rifle off his shoulder and followed. Maylee and Dalton brought up
the rear.
Slowly, they all crept
into the foyer. Scritch-scritch-scritch , went the
noise behind the door. It was low, near the bottom. Angie put her
hand on the handle and looked back at Park. Park nodded and readied
the rifle.
Scritch-scritch-scritch .
Angie drew in a breath and opened the
door.
The corpse of an old woman was on her knees
in the hallway. The woman they'd seen earlier, in the open
apartment down the hall. She'd been eating the man's liver.
Angie pulled back, ready to run or fight.
But the corpse stayed where she was, scratching at the carpet just
inside the door. She moaned, softly. There were many rings on the
woman's hand. She was wearing an expensive-looking top and had long
dangling earrings. Angie wondered what the old woman had been
dressing up for, what she'd been about to do with her husband,
before the death plague hit and she ate his liver instead.
“Come on, guys,” said
Angie, turning around and motioning for Maylee and Dalton to back
up. “Let's go.”
She led her kids back into the living room.
She sat them down on the couch and looked back to the foyer. Park
stared down at the old woman. He rubbed his face with one hand,
then aimed the gun down on her.
He paused, then sighed.
“That's two,” he said,
softly.
Then fired.
Five
Ella twisted back and forth in a free chair
in the Communications Office. The breakroom to her left was crammed
full of Keepers, all talking nervously. Ella ignored them, trying
to focus on the relative quiet of the room she was in. She stared
at the screens, dials and buttons. She understood none of them.
She'd never cared too. Now, she wished desperately she did. She
wished she could use them to find Lori. She'd set Lori free and
then they'd get out of this zoo. This place Gregory had built.
Stepdad.
She was still trembling. The look that
teenage boy had given her, kneeling before the freshly-killed body
of his father. The raw, bleak hate in his eyes.
You're dead,
bitch .
Caleb sat a few chairs down. He clicked
switch after switch, changing the screens to different camera views
around the zoo. Every so often a camera would catch a visitor,
sometimes whole families, who'd been trapped in the zoo overnight.
Some huddled together,
she yelled.
All three of them pulled. Angie's muscles
ached. She strained as hard as she could. She pushed her foot
against the door frame so hard the thin metal of the frame
bent.
Park gave Bobby one last hard kick to the
forehead. Bobby grunted, blood spattering from his mouth, then let
go.
Angie and the kids heaved upward. Park rose
to the lower edge of the doorway. He grabbed the edge, his
fingernails clawing at the carpet, and pulled himself the rest of
the way up. Maylee and Dalton let go. Angie let go, almost falling
over backward.
Park stood up. He spun and
slammed the glass door shut. “Fuck me backwards!” he said, panting
into the glass.
“You okay?” said Angie, her
back and knee aching.
“Yeah.” Park nodded, then
turned to look at Angie and the kids. “You guys okay?”
Maylee and Dalton nodded.
“Yeah,” said Angie.
Park nodded. Angie walked over to the glass
and looked down. The truck was destroyed beyond any hope of
driving.
Park saw what she was
looking at and smirked. “So much for the truck, I
guess.”
“Looks that way,” said
Angie.
They fell silent, staring
at the truck. A soft scratching noise wafted through the
apartment. Scritch-scritch-scritch .
Angie looked around,
stepping away from the glass door. “What is that?”
Park looked around. Maylee
and Dalton looked around. Scritch-scritch-scritch .
Angie's back went taut.
“Shit,” she whispered “The door.”
Everyone listened
intently. Scritch-scritch-scritch . The noise
was coming from the front door. From the hallway beyond.
Angie put a finger to her lips and slowly
walked through the living room, toward the foyer. Park slipped the
rifle off his shoulder and followed. Maylee and Dalton brought up
the rear.
Slowly, they all crept
into the foyer. Scritch-scritch-scritch , went the
noise behind the door. It was low, near the bottom. Angie put her
hand on the handle and looked back at Park. Park nodded and readied
the rifle.
Scritch-scritch-scritch .
Angie drew in a breath and opened the
door.
The corpse of an old woman was on her knees
in the hallway. The woman they'd seen earlier, in the open
apartment down the hall. She'd been eating the man's liver.
Angie pulled back, ready to run or fight.
But the corpse stayed where she was, scratching at the carpet just
inside the door. She moaned, softly. There were many rings on the
woman's hand. She was wearing an expensive-looking top and had long
dangling earrings. Angie wondered what the old woman had been
dressing up for, what she'd been about to do with her husband,
before the death plague hit and she ate his liver instead.
“Come on, guys,” said
Angie, turning around and motioning for Maylee and Dalton to back
up. “Let's go.”
She led her kids back into the living room.
She sat them down on the couch and looked back to the foyer. Park
stared down at the old woman. He rubbed his face with one hand,
then aimed the gun down on her.
He paused, then sighed.
“That's two,” he said,
softly.
Then fired.
Five
Ella twisted back and forth in a free chair
in the Communications Office. The breakroom to her left was crammed
full of Keepers, all talking nervously. Ella ignored them, trying
to focus on the relative quiet of the room she was in. She stared
at the screens, dials and buttons. She understood none of them.
She'd never cared too. Now, she wished desperately she did. She
wished she could use them to find Lori. She'd set Lori free and
then they'd get out of this zoo. This place Gregory had built.
Stepdad.
She was still trembling. The look that
teenage boy had given her, kneeling before the freshly-killed body
of his father. The raw, bleak hate in his eyes.
You're dead,
bitch .
Caleb sat a few chairs down. He clicked
switch after switch, changing the screens to different camera views
around the zoo. Every so often a camera would catch a visitor,
sometimes whole families, who'd been trapped in the zoo overnight.
Some huddled together,
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