Suddenly the thought of such a noble creature being totally alone and in such pain was more than Annaliese could bear. Pain bloomed in her chest cavity like a growing fist. It was a pain she only ever felt when she thought about Baby.
She fiddled with the bottom of the window and searched for a catch. She eventually found it, not at the bottom but at the top. It slid open with ease, letting in the cold air with a frosty hiss.
Against all of her common sense, she lifted her leg up onto the windowsill. She tried to keep her movements quiet, to avoid waking the others. She heard the soft whirring of Shawcross’s fan heater and was glad for the audible cover it provided for her own soft noises.
She lifted her other leg and slid out through the window. Her wellington boots came down on soft grass outside.
Lily’s wailing continued, full of anguish, full of pain. Annaliese prayed for it to stop. But it didn’t.
She rounded the corner of the building and headed for where she thought the orang-utan habitat was. It was disorientating to walk around the park in the dark. Bradley had always been there to guide her around.
Poor Bradley.
She missed her colleague. She wished she had had the chance to take him up on his offer of eating a lovely meal someplace in town, instead of being in the nightmare she was in now. There were many things she regretted.
But do any of them even matter anymore?
Up ahead, the wailing got louder. The ghostly silhouette of a mangrove tree came slowly into view. Annaliese found Lily sitting at the base of the tall tree, staring down at the ground and weeping loudly. The body of Brick and the infant were lying in the centre of the enclosure, placed together in a small huddle that resembled a cuddle between father and son. Lily was not looking at them. Perhaps it was too painful.
“You poor, poor thing,” Annaliese said softly as she observed the heartbroken creature.
In the silence of night, and with keen animal hearing, Lily heard her voice. The orang-utan slowly raised her head up and scanned left and right until she spotted Annaliese standing there outside the enclosure.
“I’m sorry,” Annaliese said. “I didn’t mean to creep up on you. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”
Lily stared at Annaliese for what seemed like forever, but during that time her weeping had stopped. Then the orang-utan did something that took Annaliese by utter surprise. Lily raised up one of her arms and waved. It was a sad wave, a weak wave, but the fact that she now had ceased whimpering made it clear that the animal did not want to be alone. She was glad Annaliese had appeared. Lily was glad not to be on her own.
Amazing.
Annaliese had an extremely stupid idea, but she was determined to try it out anyway. It was something she needed to do, but also maybe something that the broken soul inside this enclosure needed even more.
She headed around to the enclosure’s bungalow and approached the entrance door. It could be opened by a magnetic keypad for which she knew the code. While she had not examined the orang-utan herself in the past, Bradley had once allowed her access to show her around. She remembered the number.
1235
She keyed it in and let herself into the bungalow. Inside was a cement prep area and a small office cubicle. There was also a wire mesh enclosure that housed an indoor sleeping area for the orang-utans. It led right out into the enclosure.
To Annaliese’s dismay, the caged area was locked with a padlock. She let out a sigh, but didn’t let it defeat her. She pushed on the office door and was happy when it opened.
The room inside was dingy, but the glow from a computer monitor gave her pupils enough light to make out a few details. Her attention was immediately drawn to a small metal closet, the size of a house brick, on the wall. She went over and fumbled with its edges.
Please be unlocked.
She found a small catch and managed to slide it. The small metal closet fell open without any effort at all.
And inside was a single brass key.