Dave had hunted down most of the infected in the nearby woods after that, by himself. He took them out with his chef’s knife and came back every night covered in blood. The man now kept the blade constantly strapped to his waist like Rambo.
It had now been more than four days since any infected had been spotted inside the park. Things had finally begun to feel a little safer. The makeshift walls, fences, and barriers that they had erected in key areas also added to that feeling of security.
Still, it was far from ideal living. The power had finally failed and the water pressure was getting lower each day. They no longer used any of the park’s toilets and had taken to finding their own individual spots in the woods. It was a degrading devolution of their once civil habits. They now had to go shit in the woods like any other animal. Human superiority had been reduced to nothing.
Now that everyone had time to think and rest up a little, a dark mood had fallen over the group. They each began to mourn the losses of both their previous life and their all of their friends and loved ones. Nick, too, had become morose as the full weight of what had happened finally washed over him. He would often wander off on his own, just to cry. Never again would he see his wife and son. He would never even get to see a photograph of them. All he had were the rapidly fading images in his mind. He would never get to play football with James or make love to Deana. They were both gone. Forever. The burden of that loss had tarnished his soul. He was no longer the man he used to be.
No longer a man at all.
In the last few days, the group had formed a ‘camp’ around the Big Dog restaurant. They had erected a waist-high wire fence around a large portion of the grounds, separating the steep decline of the surrounding hill from the level pathways of the park. It was not high enough to stop any infected entering, but it would at least slow them down. The least secured place in the whole park was the access road that led down the hill to the nearby villages. It was located by Ripley Hall. Nick and Alan had done their best to block it off with a portable candy floss stand and a ride-on lawnmower they had found in the warehouse, but it wasn’t ideal.
But, as things went, they were in as good a position as they could be. The burning villages in the distance made clear that any remnant or morsel of safety was a true privilege. To still be alive after all that had happened was a lottery win.
“Hey, man, you’re never going to believe this,” said Mike.
Nick shook his head and frowned. “Believe what?”
Mike grinned. “Just come.”
Nick followed him towards the zoo. The group had not spent much time amongst the animals, but Anna had been making sure they were all fed and watered. Nobody said it, but they all knew that the animals would probably end up as food eventually; none of them wanted to get too attached.
Much harder to eat a pig with a name.
Mike led Nick past the pig stys and up to a large enclosure with a big fat tree in its centre, then he stopped and looked at him as though there was supposed to be something obvious he was seeing.
Nick shrugged his shoulders. “What?”
Mike sighed and pointed. “You blind, or what?”
When Nick finally saw it, his mouth dropped open. “Wow! Is that real?”
“Course it’s real.”
Nick stared up at the Orang-utan perched in the trees and could barely believe it. It was hanging around as if it were no different than a common grey squirrel. Nick supposed that the animal belonged to the zoo and had somehow gotten loose?”
“Is it…dangerous?” Nick asked.
“Beats me,” said Mike. “Alan has run off to get Anna. She’ll know what to do.”
Nick eased himself down onto the floor and sat on a patch of grass. He propped his head up on his hands and gazed at the copper-coloured creature in the treetops.
Amazing.
The orang-utan stared down at the assembled group with something approaching disinterest. It seemed completely at home in the trees and was no doubt satisfied to have such freedom after having been enclosed in the zoo for what may have been its entire lifetime.