Gibson nodded his thanks and crabbed-walked into the kitchen. He pushed himself against the wall and slowly raised himself up enough to peer into restaurant. He studied the scene until he was satisfied there were no cats lurking about. He motioned for Bill and Mary to come out of the freezer.
They settled beside him and he whispered, "I'm going to go out there. Nothing gets me, then you come out," he finished with a forced grin. His guts twisted at the thought of breaking cover, but he had to get to Tammy. He'd rest easier when she was by his side. Until then, he would have to try and manage the gnawing fear that threatened to erode his meager courage.
Before he could change his mind, he quickly launched himself through the short order opening. He winced as he landed in a pile of broken glass. The shards cracked underneath his shoes and sounded like gunshots in the silence. He sucked in a breath expecting a cat to come barreling over a table, when it didn't happen, he breathed a small sigh and hurried across the room to the far door. He wondered if this was how soldiers felt as they crossed open ground behind enemy lines, realizing that every second could be their last.
He was surprised when he made it to the doorway without incident, the certainty that his life was going to be snuffed out had been so palpable, when it didn't happen he almost felt let down.
He carefully peered around the corner into the main promenade in front of the Tower.
Bodies were everywhere.
Body parts floated in the fountain, turning the water red. Smeared blood still glistened on the marble floors where the bodies had been dragged around. Although it was the middle of the morning the promenade was gloomy rays of sunlight undulated in the murk. Gibson glanced up at the skylights above and sucked in a breath. "Jesus," he whispered. A few stories above his head the skylights were covered in smoldering bodies. Some of them still strapped in their airplane seats, tray tables in their upright positions, thank you very much.
The skylights were supported by a network of steel girders, in a spider web network. This network supported most of the skylights, but some sections had collapsed. Liquid was raining down onto the Promenade from the broken windows above. .
Gibson reached out and let some of the liquid splatter onto his hand. He brought the foul smelling liquid to his nose, sniffed and gagged. He quickly wiped his hand on his jeans. He reeled slightly on his feet as the pungent aroma of jet fuel permeated his nostrils.
A thin sheen of the stuff covered the floor before him. He noticed blood didn't mix easily with fuel, crimson globules beaded on the surface of the spill, as oil on water. Or was it the other way around?
The emergency lights abruptly came to life as the emergency generators kicked in. Across the promenade the elevators resumed their interrupted ascents or descents. Gibson jumped as a hand closed around his elbow. "AHHHhh!" He whirled on Bill. He slowly lowered the cleaver and offered a nervous laugh. "Pretty nasty out there, Bill," he muttered. He stood aside and let Bill and Mary take a look at the carnage in the lobby.
"Cripes," Bill said for all of them. "Least the coast looks clear."
Gibson said, "Same as before-,"
"No, we'll take turns," Bill interrupted. "You put your buns on the line coming out of the freezer. It's my turn." Bill grinned, "Don't worry soon as I get across and clean my pants you can return the favor."
With that Bill took off before he could consider the risk. He was too fast for Gibson to snag the back of his chef's smock and restrain him.
Maynard Tower 55th Floor 200 Madison Ave, NYC Tammy was transfixed by the images of carnage and human loss on the screen.
In Thailand, a group of survivors were hanging out the 8th floor window of a dilapidated building. Several floors below the survivors, a fire raged. The camera angle suddenly lurched. The helicopter filming their anguished, pleading faces strayed too close and one of its whirring blades struck the corner of the building. The copter pilot struggled to regain control, overcompensated and the machine's blades sliced into the survivors. Tammy brought a hand to her mouth in revulsion. The image disappeared as a massive fireball obliterated the camera feed. Within seconds, the aftermath was captured by another hovering helicopter.
She changed the channel.
In Rome, thousands were gathered in St. Peter's Square. Armed guards stood in makeshift towers that had been built to keep roving animals at bay. Random shots rang out from the towers. The camera captured those in prayer and many more who had startled and looked around with each ring of gunfire.
Many more thousands were outside the gates of the Vatican. Drawn by the sanctuary the Pope had offered early in the day. Sadly, these thousands were too late.
Another news channel was panning a decimated crowd. Occasionally, Tammy would see movement in the bloody mass while the camera paused in hope of catching a survivor. The cameraman focused on a dog feasting on a dead body. It was the sixth time they gave this view and Tammy reached to turn off the television in disgust. As her hand fell on the button, she noticed scrolling news feed on CNN. She quickly tuned in.
National Zoo Washington D.C.
Curt cried out as Elisa and Jody lost their grip and he slammed into the bed of the golf cart, thankfully, he didn't regain consciousness. Elisa carefully pulled back the shreds of his pant leg and grimaced. The wound was raw, but it had stopped bleeding. The bleeding had been heavy but the wound now seeped instead of flowed. Jody went back into the restaurant and grabbed some tablecloths to construct makeshift bandages. Tucker sat in the passenger seat keeping watch for any animals that might be sneaking up on them.
Elisa turned and watched Jody make her way towards them with an armful of white tablecloths. After they'd wrapped his leg, Jody slid behind the wheel and Elisa got in the other side forcing Tucker between them.
Jody whispered a prayer as she inserted the key and turned it. The cart chugged to life, breaking the silence around them. Jody tentatively pressed down on the gas and the cart lurched forward. From the bed of the cart, Curt suddenly cried out, "Oh Mandy! You ate my brains!"
"What the-,"Elisa frowned and turned back, waiting for his encore. She was met with silence so faced forward again with a shrug.
A slight breeze ruffled Tucker's hair and he gamely allowed Elisa to sweep a few strands back from his forehead. At the end of the alley, Jody began to turn left. Tucker whimpered and snuggled closer to Elisa. Elisa immediately understood the boy's cry and held her hand out to Jody, who stopped the cart "What's the matter, sweetie?" she asked.
"His mom is that way," Elisa mouthed.
Jody nodded, pulled out onto the walkway, pressing the gas and turning in the other direction. As they puttered along she looked at the devastation surrounding them. Bodies littered the sidewalks and road. She slowed and drove carefully through the clear areas. The bodies were part of the landscape now. After seeing so much death in the past hours her mind learned to categorize the bodies as mere objects. They were no longer people; thinking of them as such would be too horrible.
Jody gritted her teeth as a tire caught an arm, jolting the cart as they ran over it. She was troubled, again, by the fact that there were no animals roaming the zoo.
Jody gasped as they passed the monkey enclosures, inside the animals were lined up like troops awaiting an inspection. The monkeys somberly watched the passage of the golf cart in silence.
When they were past the bizarre display, Jody glanced at Elisa to ensure they'd just witnessed the same thing. Curt cried out again in delirium, "Six bar break!"
"What's he going on about?" Elisa asked no one in particular.
"He's getting worse," Jody said, stating the obvious.
"It's the bite, isn't it?" Tucker asked.
Elisa nodded, "I remember reading about those dragon things while I was studying for the Bee. They have rotten food in their teeth or something like that...and that's what really kills the things they eat. They die of infection-,"
"He's not going to die," Jody interrupted, her tone dead and cold.
As they turned another corner, Jody unconsciously let up on the gas. The cart drifted to a stop and they all stared in shock at the spectacle before them. Elephants were lined up along both sides of the Zoo's entrance. They stood so silent and still, Jody at first mistook them for statues, until she saw one blink. Now, she could see the subtle undulations of their sides as they stood guard. She glanced back the way they'd come and paled. A group of giraffes now blocked that way. They formed two lines across the path; river otters and peacocks strutted between their feet. Jody's spirit almost broke, to have come so far and face this. She sniffed and said, "Hold on, we're not going down without a fight," she muttered. She pressed the gas and held her other foot down on the brake. It wasn't much, but it provided just enough of a kick-start to give them a bit of speed.
They made it to the entrance without further incident. Jody was waiting for the other shoe to drop. They were so close to freedom, but after the day they had, she expected something to go wrong.
They climbed out of the cart. She loathed leaving it, but the streets outside the zoo were strewn with too much debris for her to navigate in the small vehicle.
Her mind flashed back to what she'd asked Mr. Monroe, "Do you think it's happening everywhere?"
Standing at the entrance to the Zoo she had her answer. Just outside the entrance it looked like a riot had occurred. Cars were smoldering and the streets were littered with items from the Zoo's gift shops. A stuffed banded mongoose, its white cottony innards spilling from its stomach, was still clutched in a small hand. The hand wasn't attached to a body. Plastic animals lay crushed around the entrance.
In the west the sun was struggling with the night, losing its daily battle with the darkness. In the distance she saw the flames of a burning city reaching and dancing toward the sky. As the wind switched directions, car alarms could be heard intermittently. Try as she might to disassociate herself from the carnage, try as she might to transmute the bodies to mere objects, the bodies were the worst; they were everywhere. How could there be so much damage by so few animals? How could so few people escape? Jody shivered. She didn't relish the thought of being out after night had fallen.
Jody felt so hopeless she just wanted to sit down on the curb and wait for death. Where would they go? Who could help them? Were their parents all right? Or had they been killed by animals?
This was the first time Jody thought of what may have happened to her parents in Baltimore. Elisa had started spelling again. Jody found some odd, small comfort in the familiar lilt of the spelling bee tone. In her head she started spelling herself. The comforting rhythms drove her to take the next few steps through the entrance.
Jody didn't want to leave the familiarity of the Zoo. Out there was uncertainty. At least behind her she knew how the cards were stacked. She had the urge to turn back and take up residence in one of the better-secured buildings. Start up a tribe and live out the rest of their existence in denial.
She glanced back. The animals stood sentinel in complete silence. Even though she didn't want to leave the zoo, it felt too much like tempting fate walk back between the animals.
"Jody!" Elisa said, breaking Jody's thoughts. "Something's wrong with Mr. Monroe!"
Jody rushed back to the golf cart and tried helping Elisa subdue Curt. His body shook violently and it took all her strength to keep him from throwing her aside. His teeth clicked shut inches from her face, blood exploding from his mouth as he completed the job on his tongue.
Maynard Tower 55th Floor 200 Madison Ave, NYC In what looked like an amateur video, Tammy watched, transfixed, as a man clothed in hobo attire, stared down five snow leopards in Shaanxi Province, China.
The animals were pacing back and forth. Barely restrained violence could be sensed in their movements. Despite the threat, beside a train full of terrified passengers the hobo man stood boldly before the leopards. The passengers looked on in amazement as the man held up his hands and made a placating gesture. The leopards looked him up and down, tensed as if to attack, and then lay down in the swaying grass. They looked as harmless as kittens except for the blood staining their once snow-white coats. The man turned to face the train and started speaking.
"We're getting a precise translation as quickly as we can," a voice intoned over the Chinese man's words. "What you have just witnessed is amazing. The animals did not attack the man. What exactly does this mean after today's violence across the globe?"
Tammy tuned the voice out and watched as the man motioned for people to debark from the train. At first, no one moved, but then a small boy hopped from the train. The leopards remained still as the boy stared fearfully at them.
Just beneath the newscaster's monologue, Tammy heard a terrified woman's voice and assumed it was the boy's mother. The camera swung erratically and focused through a window of the train at a hysterical woman as she tried to fight past the two men restraining her. Tammy found herself waving her hands, attempting to move the camera with her will.
Finally, the camera changed focus. The man beside the train took the small boy by the hand and led him to the cats. Their tails swished back and forth in small darting movements, but they cats did not rise. The boy balked as he neared the animals. The man knelt down beside him and said something in the boy's ear. The boy nodded, sniffed, ran an arm across his runny nose and puffed out his chest. As the boy walked toward the animals, the man rose and gave the camera a "thumbs up". The gesture was so purely American it caught Tammy by surprise.
The newscaster's voice urged, "What happens next, folks, is just...well...just purely amazing..."
The leopards rearranged themselves into a crude semi circle and the boy positioned himself among them. One by one the animals leaned in and allowed the boy to pet them. The man turned, faced the camera and began speaking rapidly.
"We now have a rough translation," the newscaster said above the Chinese being spoken.
"The man is saying, 'Things are dire, but we offer solace. By now you've probably noticed some of your loved ones are 'different'. Believe me, we only have your best interest at heart. We have stopped the animal attacks, what more do we need to do to prove our benevolence? Listen to your loved ones. Join them in the new world. They only care that you are taken care of. Follow their instructions. Areas outside your cities have been designated as safe havens. Begin your journeys to these areas and all will be well. This offer of truce will not be extended forever. Act now, Gaea urges you.'
"I'm told that Gaea, is best known as "Mother Earth" in Roman and Greek mythology. Just a moment, folks," the newscaster paused and held a hand to his ear in classic newsman pose. He nodded a few times, cleared his throat, nodded again then, "Folks, I'm being told that in The Central African Republic of Fakoule, Haute-Kotto a similar event has just occurred. Details are sketchy at this time, but it seems another person...a female...has just prevented a tour bus laden with fleeing refugees from being attacked by a herd of rhinos. It's being reported she is giving a speech similar to the gentleman in China."
Tammy blindly reached behind her and pulled a chair closer. Its legs screeched and crunched against the debris-laden floor. A soft breeze, pregnant with the scent of burning flesh and jet fuel, stirred her dust heavy hair, but she barely noticed. She reached out and tapped another screen.
"Yes, that's correct, Bill, we were preparing to move to a higher floor when the animals just stopped trying to get into our barricaded news room," the newswoman was saying in an Aussie accent, "We looked out to see what was going on and there was a small child standing in the middle of the parking lot. He was just standing there in the middle of the dingoes. The animals laid down at his command and he started a speech which my cameraman Dillard managed to get on film-,"
The same message Tammy heard from the man in China replayed, with some minor differences, but on the whole, the message was one of urging people to travel to these "safe havens". Once more Gaea was mentioned as the benevolent benefactor responsible for causing the animals to cease their attack.
As the film came to an end, the newswoman interjected, "We're not sure what the boy is referring to about 'Love ones being different'," she finished.
Tammy turned to a different station and was greeted with a harried looking man. He spoke quickly as his eyes darted all around.
"Lovecraft was right!" he screamed at the camera. "The time has come for the judgment. The Old Ones have descended to wreak havoc on mankind. There is no escape!"
The picture shifted and focused on another man. "Professor Laymon, I've read Lovecraft extensively and there is no reference to animal attacks such as what is occurring around the globe. The Old Ones," the man paused and sneered knowingly at the camera. "Well, they are neither good nor evil. They just are and they have no interest whether we live or die, we're merely ants to them."
Again the picture shifted and focused on yet another man, this one was a newscaster Tammy realized by his smooth demeanor and slick looks. "Professor Echols...Professor Laymon...gentlemen, I'd like to break in here. We all know that Lovecraft was making up his mythos as he went along. Yet, both of you are sitting here talking like it all really exists..."
Laymon broke in quickly, "Then how do explain what is happening just outside as we speak?"
Echols quickly interjected, "The Old Ones don't even have the capacity to care one way or the other. Besides, Gaea is a goddess, not even once mentioned as an Old One..."
"Then how do you explain what's happening?" Laymon countered madly.
A large explosion suddenly rocked the building. Tammy became aware of just how late it had become. The gloom seemed to reach out to her and she shivered in the darkness. She made her way over to her desk, reached into her purse and pulled out a small pen light. It wasn't much, but the meager light provided her some comfort.
Tammy ventured over to the shattered window and peered down to the street. Below a car was engulfed in flames. A group of people danced around it like some kind of perverse Indian powwow. Tammy squinted through the smoke and the glare of the setting sun against the closest building and saw another group vandalizing cars as they moved up the avenue. She leaned out just a bit farther and an idea popped into her head.
She shuddered at the thought but she realized it was the only way. The window on the floor below looked like it had been blown out in the blast, if she could get down there, maybe she could get out.
She glanced around the room, grabbed her cell and carefully brushed away the few remaining shards of glass clinging to the windowsill. Satisfied, she walked over to the far wall, opened the fire hose case and started feeding out the canvas hose. A few minutes later she had a makeshift rope that just made it to the floor below. Fifty-five floors up and she was actually considering shimming down the thick hose to the floor below. Twelve hours earlier, she would have never thought herself capable of such a feat.
After a few false starts, she slung a leg up on the windowsill. The wind lapped greedily at her dress and hair. Before she realized it she was hanging out the window. Her hands gripped the hose so fiercely she didn't move at all. Ages ago, she'd dabbled with rock climbing. Not the real thing, mind you, but an indoor rock climbing wall down on 22nd Ave. Not quite the same.
She tried to convince herself that she was on the indoor wall with a safety line snug around her middle. No matter how much she tried to envision safety, all she saw, in minute and crystal clear detail was her body splattered fifty-five stories below.
She wrapped her legs around the hose and slowly relaxed her grip. She slid, panicked and quickly reinforced her hold again. Her hands sung with pain from the short distance she had traveled. Tammy knew it was a really, really bad idea to look down, but she ventured a look and was immediately overcome with vertigo. Thankfully, she was closer to the other floor than she realized. The seven feet she had slid explained the excruciating agony in her hands.
Tammy felt like she was in a wind tunnel. The wind pushed her body and her arms were beginning to go numb. If she stretched her leg she could almost touch the top left edge of the window. All she heard was the mournful howl of the wind rushing between the buildings and a sharp snapping as it teased and tested the folds of her dress. Carefully, she slid down enough to come level with the window. She cried out in frustration, but the sound was torn away by the wind as it left her mouth.
Now, face to face with the window, Tammy saw it was merely fractured in a few places, but still very much solid and unyielding.
She placed her feet on the ledge and carefully pulled back her right arm and balled her fist. She aimed for one of the bigger fractures in the glass and swung with all her might. Her hand connected solidly with the glass and rebounded painfully. Another frustrated cry escaped her lips. She glanced up. Although the many hours at the gym had gotten her this far, she didn't possess the strength to climb back up. She glanced down, fought the urge to look away and spied the Skyway that connected to the adjacent building. Tammy still had three stories separating her from it and a fall from this height would definitely break something. What if she slammed into the Skyway and the glass didn't break. If she merely glanced off the side and continued falling? Or worse, she broke the glass and a shard impaled her? It was not an option, she had to try and get through this window first.
Tammy took what little slack remained of the heavy canvas hose, and wrapped it around her slender waist. She inhaled deeply and flung herself backward. Her stomach lurched as she realized that the hose hadn't held and she was in free fall.
National Zoo Washington D.C.
On the street a dark blue van turned onto the avenue. It slid towards the Zoo's entrance as if moving in slow motion and pulled to a stop outside the gate.
When Tucker saw the van uneasiness overtook him. The angle of the sun kept him from seeing into the van, but he knew it was bad news.
"Jody," he moaned.
The side door slid open and darkness seemed to pulse from the van's interior. "Well, lookie here," sneered someone from within the van.
Jody turned and faced the van. She motioned for Tucker to come to her side and placed her hands protectively on his shoulders.
A man emerged from the van. He adjusted himself and spat on the ground. He peered at them from behind a pair of dark sunglasses. In his right hand he clutched a wicked looking rifle. He turned his head, speaking to whoever was behind the wheel of the van. "I think we just found some survivors, Johnson. You girls in trouble?" the man asked with a chuckle.
"We're fine, thank you," Jody said in a level voice, though her insides were as jittery as Jell-O.
"Ain't nobody fine, miss," the man laughed. He spat again and adjusted himself once more. This time, his left hand lingered obscenely on his crotch. "Anybody else with you?"
Elisa spoke up, "Yes, there's twelve of us. The rest are gathering food and supplies. They're all big men," she added.
"Yeah, I bet," the man smiled. "What's wrong with your friend there in the cart? He sick or something?"
"He got bitted by a dragon," Tucker offered.
"A dragon, huh? What the hell you talking about, boy?"
"He was attacked by a Komodo," Jody intervened. "The bite is infected."
"That's too bad," the man observed. "Especially the way things are now in the world." He spread his arms and turned in a small semi circle. "It ain't pretty out there, 'lil lady," he drawled in a pretty good impersonation of The Duke.
He leveled the rifle at her and smiled once more, reminding Jody of a shark. "Why don't you come over here for a second," he ordered, his tone still conversational, though his eyes were no longer friendly.
Jody moved Tucker behind her and shook her head. "I'd rather not," she answered. Beside her Elisa tensed, prepared to bolt.
From inside the van a female voice rang out, "You better do what he says, he means it!"