Lily let go of Brick and bellowed like a bass drum. She leapt the distance between herself and her baby in one urgent leap. She landed beside the infected man and twisted his head around, breaking the neck with a single vicious flick. The man went still, face down in the grass.
Lily picked up her bleeding infant and rocked it desperately, patted its head and swung it to and fro.
But the baby was dead.
The pain on Lily’s face was human in every way. Her whimpers pierced the air like a siren.
Annaliese felt tears stream down her face as she watched the female orang-utan lollop back over to Brick with her dead baby held tightly in her arms. When it became clear that he, too, was dead, Lily let free a deep and endless wail.
When it finally stopped, Annaliese wiped the tears from her face and left Lily alone. There was nothing that could be done. Death was everywhere.
Chapter Twenty
Annaliese knocked on the door to the Reptile House and spoke her name. A few seconds later, Shawcross opened it. The people inside were all now armed with various rudimentary weapons: mops, bits of wood, and other salvaged materials. They looked like a lynch mob; all that was lacking were the torches.
Shawcross faced her down. “Is it safe? Are the doors of the house closed? What was all that noise?”
“The house is secure,” she told him. “As long as we all stay back from the grounds then all of the infected people should stay locked up inside.”
“What about the zoo, the park?”
“I think it’s safe. There were some infected people wondering around outside, but they’re dead now – dead dead.”
Shawcross raised an eyebrow. “You killed them?”
“Not exactly, but they’ve been dealt with, trust me.”
He seemed irritated by the lack of concrete facts but, after a moment’s thought, he seemed to be satisfied with what he’d been told.
“Then we should leave,” he said. “Go and find help; someone who can clear this whole mess up.”
Annaliese shrugged. “If that’s what everybody wants to do.”
Mike spoke up. “We don’t know that it’s any safer elsewhere. No one has been able to contact help. Back in the kitchen nobody could get a call through on their mobiles. And you,” he nodded towards Shawcross, “put a call through on the landline when things first went bad. Nobody came. I have a bad feeling.”
Shawcross rubbed at his chin and stared at Mike for a moment. “So what are you saying? That we’re doomed? That nowhere is safe?”
“I’m just saying that I don’t think we should take safety for granted. It might be a luxury right now.”
“You’re saying we should stay here?” Annaliese asked. She wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea or not.
Mike nodded. “We’re five-hundred feet above the ground, on top of a hill surrounded by woodland on all sides. The only thing we don’t have is a castle and a garrison of archers. If this thing – whatever it is – has spread, then I feel much safer up here than down there.”
“Nonsense,” said Shawcross. “These people have families to get back to. We need to report all this to the police.”
“Not if it means us dying,” Mike said. “And I’m not sure there is any police to report things to. You already called them, remember?”
Shawcross folded his arms. “We’re leaving.”
Annaliese put her hand up. “Hold on a minute, Shawcross. You don’t speak for everyone. Perhaps it would be better if we tried to find out what the situation down below is first, before we get in our cars and set off into the unknown.”
Shawcross growled, an audible noise in his throat. Annaliese noticed then that the man’s slick, ginger hair was now back in place, re-styled and orderly.
Back in control.
One of the strangers in the group spoke up. “I’m not going anywhere unless I know it’s safe.”
“Me either,” said another.
“I want to go home,” someone else disagreed.
“It seems we are not agreed,” said Annaliese, realising how smug she sounded but not caring anyway.
Shawcross huffed. “Fine!”