Alex Irvine - Dawn of the Planet of the Apes

Werner did, and then started it over again. Much more quietly this time, his recorded voice said, “This is San Francisco. We are under attack by… we are under attack and need help. We have a beacon marking our location! Please—we need help! We are under atta—”

A sharp crackle covered Werner’s voice. Then came another voice.

Another human voice.

“…isco… we… you copy? Repeat… rancisco, do you copy?”

On the playback, Werner gave an audible gasp, followed by something that might have been either an oath or a prayer. Gunshots sounded in the background. One of the windows blew in, and they all heard the impact of a ricochet. Screams of humans and screeches of apes drowned out anything the responding party might have added.

Werner stopped the playback.

“That’s when I got the hell out,” he said.

“Yeah,” Dreyfus said. They all sat, absorbing this new information. Two days ago—or was it three?—they’d all thought maybe they were the last humans, the last sentient beings, on the planet. Then along came a bunch of talking chimps, with the occasional gorilla, orangutan, or bonobo thrown in for variety.

Now came an answering human voice. But from where? Who was it? Were there cities somewhere, or at least thriving settlements? How many? Did this voice coming from the other side of the radio represent another scrabbling, desperate bunch of people… or was the world not gone quite so far to hell as Dreyfus had feared?

They have to be warned about the apes , he thought. They won’t believe us, but we have to do it anyway. And on the off chance they do believe us, and we survive the next couple of days, we’ll ask them for a little help.

“Did you talk to him again?” he asked Werner. “Before, after, or that was the only time?”

“That was it,” Werner said. “But boss, there are people out there! Not just us. We’re not—”

“You better keep your voice down, or there will be less people around,” Dreyfus said.

“Alone,” Werner said, more quietly. “We’re not alone.”

“Sorry,” Dreyfus said. “I meant fewer.” He reached out and gave him a slap on the back. “Good work, Werner. Really good work. Where do we need to get to, so we can send again?”

“Back to ground level, anyway,” Werner said.

Outside, it was almost dawn. They couldn’t risk travel during the day. At least not on the surface.

“Okay,” Dreyfus said. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

As the sun rose over the city, Koba stalked among the highest beams of the unfinished building. He looked down on his conquest. The human settlement belonged to the apes now. It belonged to him . Fires still burned within it, and the apes pressed the humans into service, making them put the fires out… and learning so that they could do it themselves the next time.

Other apes lined these high beams, looking out over the city to the great orange bridge that had brought them here. As he passed, every ape bowed and offered a supplicating palm. He swiped them, not slowing down or looking each of them in the eye. He didn’t need to. He ruled the apes now.

At the far end of the metal skeleton sat Maurice, who looked at Koba without supplicating. Koba waited. Maurice did not move.

How dare he do this, in Koba’s moment of victory?

Koba felt his old friend—the rage he had carried with him since he first realized freedom might be possible—as it began to return.

Rocket pressed up next to Maurice and offered his own palm. Maurice looked over at him, and at last bowed his head and offered his palm. Koba swiped them both, slowly, making sure every ape within view was watching. Two of Caesar’s closest friends—only Koba had been closer—and now they were his.

But as he swiped their palms, he looked at Grey, who understood the look.

Watch these two , his expression said. They are defiant, and defiance must be dealt with.

Blue Eyes sat alone, looking back toward the mountains where his father had died. Koba stopped next to him and, after a breath signed, You fought bravely. Your father would be proud.

Blue Eyes lowered his head and hooted softly, still in pain over his loss. Koba did not remember his own father, and had only the vaguest memory of his mother. He did not understand what Blue Eyes felt. But he did understand how to use it.

Blue Eyes looked up and offered his palm. Koba swiped it.

My apes , he thought. Mine. Together strong.

Sunrise came a little later to the deep forest than it did the ridges up above. The animals and birds came to life around Malcolm, Ellie, and Alexander, who against the odds were still alive. But they were also lost. They hadn’t dared stay in one place long enough to sleep, not with apes tearing through the woods looking for them.

Maybe two hours ago, the ape sounds had died out as a mass of them gathered and headed down the mountain. Malcolm had a bad feeling about where they were headed, and what they were going to do. Of Foster and Kemp there was no sign. Malcolm hoped they, too, had made it through the night. But there was no way to know. At least they hadn’t heard anything that sounded like a bunch of apes killing two defenseless humans.

“Does this look familiar?” Ellie said, walking behind Malcolm.

“I think… I’m pretty sure we parked around here somewhere,” Alexander said.

Malcolm thought so, too. He recognized one of the rock formations that stood between the parking area and the river, at the base of a steep drop from the ape village, which was practically right over their heads. But anyone who didn’t already know that would have been unable to detect it.

Well, that would have been true until last night. Now there was smoke still rising from the fire, and from Caesar’s tree, burned to a charred skeleton that leaned out over their heads.

Using it as a reference point, Malcolm focused back in the direction of…

“I found it!” he called out. “Truck’s over here!” He headed that way and heard Ellie and Alexander follow.

“Okay, we’re coming,” Ellie said. Then they stopped again.

“What is it?” Alexander asked.

Ellie’s voice was low and scared as she replied.

“Stay where you are, okay?”

That got Malcolm’s attention. He doubled back toward them and saw Ellie crouch over something in the underbrush.

“Malcolm!” she cried. He got there and saw that under the brush was an ape. A moment later he realized it was Caesar.

A moment later, Caesar’s eyes moved, rolling in their sockets. They came briefly to rest on Ellie, then on Malcolm.

“He’s alive,” Malcolm said. “Can we move him?”

“We have to,” Ellie said. “It’s not like we can stay here.”

Caesar weakly tried to sign.

“I don’t understand,” Malcolm said. “Just hang on. We’ll get you some help.”

There was no way Caesar could walk. The effort would have killed him before they got to the truck. So Malcolm squatted in front of him while Ellie and Alexander got him sitting up.

Caesar reached over Malcolm’s shoulders while Malcolm stood, reaching back to lock his arms under Caesar’s buttocks. The chimpanzee held onto his shirtfront. Malcolm stood, grunting with the effort. Chimps looked small, but they packed a lot of mass into their compact frames.

Nevertheless, he started walking.

Malcolm was in pretty good shape, since the past ten years hadn’t afforded much opportunity for leisure. Even so, he was panting and soaked with sweat by the time they got to the trucks. Correction—truck. The second one was gone. Either Foster or Kemp or both had made it out of the woods. Malcolm hoped to see both of them back at the Colony, if it still stood.