Greg Keyes - Dawn of the Planet of the Apes - Firestorm

It took longer than he had expected. It reminded him of standing on duty in a camp in Uganda, what seemed like a very long time ago. But that night the quiet had been broken by mortar shells, and then rifle fire. Nothing similar would happen here. Thinking about it, however, he had a vivid image of chimps armed with assault weapons and gorillas with rocket launchers, swarming into the compound, bent on exterminating the humans who were so determined to hound them. He shook his head at the impossibility of it.

And yet…

He stiffened as a sentry walked past, oblivious to him standing in the shadows. He checked his watch.

Thirty minutes later, the man walked by again.

When at last he saw Clancy re-emerging from the building, another twenty-nine minutes had passed, according to the radium dial of his watch. As she crossed the compound, he noticed the sentry about to turn the corner. Once he did that, he would spot her for certain.

“Hey there!” he shouted, stepping from the shadow and moving toward the watchman. The man froze, lifting his gun. Malakai put his hands up and took a few steps to the side.

“Hey, now,” he said, his voice lower. “There is no need for that.”

“What are you doing out?”

Malakai walked away from where Clancy had been. The sentry turned to follow him with the weapon. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her freeze, then tiptoe past and into their hut.

“Just looking for a smoke,” he said. “I thought you might have one.”

“I don’t smoke,” the man said, lowering his weapon. “You shouldn’t either. It’s bad for you, and secondhand smoke kills.”

“Ah, I’ve been thinking about quitting, anyhow,” Malakai said. “Perhaps you’ve inspired me.” He turned and went back inside, trying to ignore the itch he got whenever someone with a gun was behind him.

Clancy was sitting in a chair next to the small table in the common room when he entered.

“Thanks,” she whispered, as he approached.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

She nodded. He pulled the other chair up to the little table.

“How did you know?” she asked. “You had a look in your eye,” he said. “I’ve seen it before. I’ve had it in my own eye, for that matter. How did you get in? They didn’t lock it?”

“They did,” she said. “I jammed chewing gum in the hole in the strike plate while they were watching you fail at the computer.” She shrugged and looked up. “These huts don’t have high-tech locks.”

“Well, what did you find?” he asked.

She hesitated. “Something,” she said at last. “Phillips—our boss, the guy running things here. He works for a multinational that owns, among other things, Anvil.”

“Okay,” he said. “That I could have guessed.”

“They also own a company called Gen Sys. The computer is lousy with Gen Sys files. I can’t read any of them because they’re encrypted.”

He waited, figuring she would finish her point, but she didn’t. Then she saw the puzzlement in his eyes.

“Gen Sys was the second place the apes liberated,” she said. “They were the company using apes for testing drugs.”

“Ah,” he said. “I see.”

“I’m not sure I do,” she said, “but it’s out there now.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t easy, but I managed to send a friend of mine an email. I’m pretty sure it won’t be detected unless they go through the whole system looking for it. Anyway, he’s a reporter. I asked him to check it out quietly and get back to me.”

Malakai absorbed that for a moment.

“How will he ‘get back to you’?”

“I guess I’ll have to break back in there,” she said.

He nodded, realizing how badly he had underestimated this person. He had mistaken wonder and idealism for stupidity.

Of course, she might very well have just killed them both.

It took him a long time to get to sleep.

Caesar now knew his way into town.

The first night he had climbed high in the trees, searching for the nearest lights that marked human settlements. He saw them off toward where the moon and sun came from. When the moon rose, he and a small group went by its pale light, slowly and quietly, the orangs feeling the way first.

When they reached the fringes of the town and its streetlights, things went more easily. They kept to trees and shadows, which was not so difficult as there were plenty of both. Caesar had known what he was looking for—he had been with Will when he went to where humans found their food, although he usually had been made to wait in the car. But the places were easy to recognize, with lots of big windows and pictures of food. Will had called them “stores.”

A little hunting had found such a place. They discovered a way in through a shaft in the roof, and found bags they filled with fruit, honey, nuts—anything that looked edible. Keling remembered that fruit sometimes came in metal or plastic cans, and Caesar found plenty that had been made cold and hard, but which he knew would eventually warm up.

They had slipped back into the forest, groaning from the weight, but it was worth it to see Maurice and the other orangutans finally eat something, to know they would not starve—at least, not yet.

The next night the shaft was closed with a piece of wood, so they had needed to break a window. And the next they had found men with guns guarding the store, so they had been forced to locate a different source of food. They found another place, though, and while small, it had very good fruit, including a very stinky one that set Maurice to doing a strange, stately dance of happiness before devouring it.

Tonight they tried a third store—one Rocket had scouted the night before. But when they approached it, they found the windows already broken. There were people inside. At first Caesar thought they were waiting for him—that it was a trap. But then he saw that they were taking things out of the store and loading them into their cars. Humans were stealing from humans.

Why? he wondered.

It didn’t matter—this was no place for them now. They would have to find another store.

He was about to leave when cars with flashing lights arrived, and policemen climbed out. The trees around Caesar rustled as his band reacted, remembering the killers on the bridge that had been dressed like this.

“Quiet!” he whispered.

The people in the store tried to get away from the police, but a few fought them. The policemen hit them with sticks. One pulled his gun.

Caesar knew it was time to leave, while the humans were occupied with hurting each other.

He felt in his bones that something had changed. Something was different. He had never seen humans turn on each other in this way, and it sent weird chills through him. It might be that this was their last night foraging in this area. But if not here, then where? They couldn’t go back across the bridge. It was too dangerous. Were there towns toward sundown? And if so, were humans turning on each other there, as well?

A part of him hoped so. If they fought themselves, they might forget about him and his apes.

When they reached the last road before the woods, Caesar saw trucks, and more of the men who had been chasing them.

They know , he realized. They’re trying to catch us coming back .

It took them all night to go around, and they returned empty-handed. It was not a good night.

Maurice approached him, and Caesar waved to him.

Sorry , he signed. No fruit tonight .

It never was the long solution , the orangutan said.

Is there a long solution? Caesar asked.

The wild apes have found some things we can eat.