Zombie Kong - Anthology Read online

  Those eyes did Cesar in. What the fuck was this, keeping this animal in a cage, an animal that had never hurt anyone and just wanted to be loved? How was that right? Nature was cruel, he knew, but these men were worse. What if Manny did get out? He probably couldn’t survive on his own, but Cesar could help him. How different could the Mexican jungle be from the African one? At least he’d have a fighting chance, and they couldn’t hurt him this way anymore.

  Cesar stepped back up to the door. “You’re a good little man,” he said, making the sign for friend. He slipped his fingers through the openings and pulled as hard as he could, throwing his own body backward in an attempt to help. Manny grunted and threw himself forward again and again. When the door finally gave, Cesar was thrown back and slammed into the edge of a stainless steel table. The side of his face burned from contact with the edge of the door. He reached up and felt blood.

  Manny loomed over him, teeth bared, but still with those pleading eyes. Cesar had never been this close to him before; metal always separated them. Manny reached down and grabbed Cesar’s arm and the front of his blue, lab-issue jumpsuit, sending Cesar’s heart tripping while he was lifted to his feet. Manny grunted a few times, banged his chest with a meaty fist and then brushed the fist downward. Sorry, sorry.

  Cesar smiled and touched Manny’s shoulder. “All right.” He laughed a little and then had to wipe his eyes when Manny leaned down and pressed their foreheads together, his hands making the sign for friend between them. “Yeah, we’ll always be friends, little man. God, I hope I’m doing the right thing. You’ve gotta know, I’m trying.”

  He half-expected a horde of white-coats to come rushing in because the cage door had been opened without a key. That he heard nothing––no phone rang and no one was there with a tranquilizer gun––was a good sign.

  “No alarm on your door, Manny,” he said, straightening and rubbing his throbbing lower back. “That was poor fucking planning, huh?”

  Planning. He couldn’t lose this job. As much as he reviled the place and what they did, he had bills to pay. If he was on that camera opening the door for Manny to get out of the lab, he might even be arrested, forget just being unemployed.

  “Let’s hope this plan’s better, buddy.” He tried to impress it upon Manny, who sometimes still pounded his own head as if to stop whatever pain was tormenting him, to stay where he was. He used hand gestures and stepped away from him slowly. “Stay there until I give you the signal. You have no idea what the fuck I’m saying. But just stay, Manny.” He stared into Manny’s eyes, hoping whatever connection they had somehow made him understand.

  Manny stayed in place while Cesar backed all the way to the door, hands in front of himself. Cesar thought it would look pretty good on the tape, him backing up as if he were terrified, trying to get out. He kept facing Manny even while he inserted the little card that disengaged the lock. He opened the door, backed up until he was in the doorway, then said, “Manny, Manny!” waving his hands as if he were startled or scared to death while he really meant to signal Manny to come.

  Manny raced toward him. Cesar pretended he was in a cartoon where the character’s so scared he runs in place for a minute before actually being able to move. He knew Lindstrom already thought he was little more than Mexican trash, couldn’t write proper English, sometimes didn’t speak that well, probably a dope fiend. Hopefully, he also wouldn’t expect Cesar to be particularly smart or brave when being charged by an angry-looking gorilla that appeared to be five or six times his weight, though up close, he now seemed even more than that.

  As soon as Manny reached him, Cesar put his hands on Manny’s arms as if he were trying to hold him back or push away, when he was really pulling, encouraging him through the door. God, he hoped it looked legit. And he hoped the cameras were video only. If not… it was too late to turn back now.

  Cesar ran, leading Manny through the halls, hoping Manny stayed behind him like they were playing. If the gorilla got in front of him, it would look damn suspicious if Cesar didn’t run the other direction. The other custodial staff would be spread into the other wings––he hoped they were where they should be, just this once.

  The outer door—how was he going to get Manny through that without giving himself away? He stopped at the door and turned, his arms splayed against it as if he now might fear for his life. Manny roared and charged as Cesar slid to the side. Manny punched the panel by the handle, pounded it until his blood smeared the dented metal and the light went out. An alarm sounded then, and Manny swung his arms, his scream close to a man’s, Cesar thought. Manny slammed himself against the door, bending the thick steel, buckling it, over and over again until finally it gave. Once on the other side, Manny stopped and looked back at Cesar. Friend.

  Those pleading eyes. Cesar hadn’t thought this far ahead. “Go. Hide, Manny, hide in the trees. I’ll find you.” He held his hands up and made a pushing movement. “Go, go!” He backed away as he did it, hoping to look scared on the camera, and hoping Manny understood. Manny roared, and ran.

  * * *

  “What the fuck?”

  In all the times Cesar had seen Lindstrom upset, he’d never heard him carry on like he’d been doing for the last half hour. He’d seen the security tapes, and Cesar knew the man hated that he hadn’t sacrificed his own safety for the good of the work that was being done here. Contempt dripped from every look the doctor gave him. As long as he didn’t lose his job, he didn’t give a shit what this man thought.

  Men had already been sent in search of Manny. And now Lindstrom and Cesar were alone in a small office, with Cesar in an uncomfortable metal chair and Lindstrom pacing, his hands clenched behind his back.

  “Tell me again what happened.”

  For the fifth time, Cesar told him.

  “Do you have any idea what all of this means? That he’s loose out there? If we’re lucky, he’ll get caught in some sort of trap and die, or he’ll come back because he’s hungry. But I probably couldn’t get that lucky. What if he kills someone, and they have to put him down? They’ll examine him for disease if he even just bites someone. I still don’t understand how you didn’t have time to alert anyone.”

  “Dr. Lindstrom, Manny wouldn’t hurt anybody. He’s not like that.”

  Lindstrom laughed. “I feel much better hearing that from you, an expert on gorilla behavior.”

  “I mean it. He’s gentle.”

  “And gentle creatures often slam themselves against doors until they burst open?”

  “He’s gentle with people.”

  Lindstrom mumbled, and what Cesar thought he heard chilled him.

  “What do you mean, ‘not for long’?”

  Lindstrom tapped his chin with his finger. “Come with me.” Lindstrom led Cesar outside, hand between Cesar’s shoulder blades. The doctor looked around, then leaned toward him.

  “Let me explain something to you, Mr. Ruiz. I need your help. I know you have a special way with the ape. I know you like him. I need you to help me get him back. If you go and start calling for him, perhaps he’ll come to you. You don’t want him to die out there, do you? I don’t. I’ve spent too much time on this project. He can’t be found by anyone else. And he is dangerous, now. You saw that he was bigger… you had to. It was clear to me on the tape.”

  Cesar walked slower, not liking the way Lindstrom’s hand pushed against his back. He nodded. Felt it, too. I felt it, you fucker.

  “My formula should be enhancing many things about him. His size, his intelligence, his strength––we’ve seen evidence of that already––and perhaps things like his… hunger. His general behavior, his instincts. I just don’t know how that might manifest in the wild.”

  “I can’t believe he’d hurt anybody.”

  “It’s more than that, dammit!” Lindstrom stopped. “Look, I’ll be clear with you, Mr. Ruiz. The experiments I’ve been running on Manny aren’t exactly what the government had in mind. They’re bolder, broader—government bureaucrats are
small-minded, and I’m chasing greatness. Do you understand me? If he’s found by animal control, poachers, anyone but my people, and they test his blood or tissue, let’s just say that would be bad. I can’t let that happen.”

  He smiled at Cesar then, and Cesar wished he’d stop it and never do it again.

  “Neither can you, because if you don’t help me, you’re finished. Your record will list the reason as drug use and violence toward a coworker. Or how about fucking the test animals? Who’ll hire you with something like that in your record? And if you ever try to tell anyone about this conversation, I’ll see to it that your record makes it clear you’re not a man to be believed. Do we understand each other?”

  Cesar took a few deep breaths. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then why don’t you venture out just a little ways and see if you can get that goddamn ape to come back.”

  He shoved Cesar hard enough that he almost fell. Cesar walked deeper into the jungle, felt warm blood in his hand where he’d dug a fingernail in as he made a fist, and thought about plowing Lindstrom and running, not caring about the consequences. His back and face throbbed, and punching that fucker probably would have helped. But he couldn’t. He’d shout for Manny half-heartedly a few times and hope he didn’t show, or if he did, he hoped that he would be able to see Cesar’s face and know not to come.

  He hadn’t gone very far when foliage rustled ahead of him.

  “Manny?” he whispered. A grunt came back.

  “Run, Manny—run,” he hissed. But Manny appeared out of the growth, shocking Cesar with his size. He looked unreal, like something out of a nightmare. Cesar could have sworn he was at least fifty feet tall. The huge ape signed friend.

  Cesar heard shouts behind him, and he held his hands up toward Manny as the ape snarled and growled. Cesar turned to see several soldiers, weapons raised, shouting at one other to hold. Hold!

  Manny charged, roaring.

  Weapons popped—Jesus Christ, they used grenades—blocking out all other sounds. Cesar couldn’t even hear his own screams as he begged them to stop. The flashes and explosions overwhelmed him, but he ran in their direction to get to Manny.

  The air shook with one large explosion, throwing Cesar down. He looked up in time to see Manny fall.

  * * *

  Cesar headed for Lindstrom when he’d composed himself enough to stand, but a couple of the soldiers held him back.

  “You said you needed him! You didn’t want him to die!” He kicked and struggled to get free.

  Lindstrom shook his head. “I already have all the data I need. My serum works. The ape proves that. He’d grown too big, too dangerous. And I will admit a mistake in all this––I had no idea it would take full effect this fast. I thought I had time to gradually measure the progress. He’s become a liability, Mr. Ruiz. Are you? You should think about that.”

  Lindstrom nodded and they started dragging Cesar back toward the compound. He heard Lindstrom order Manny’s body burned after he took some samples. Cesar wept. “I’m so sorry, little man, oh my God.”

  Lindstrom kept him in an office for a long time, and Cesar started to wonder if they were going to take him somewhere and shoot him, claiming he knew too much. Which he did. But what good would it do him to tell someone? First, he might not be believed, and Lindstrom would ruin his reputation. Second, he might be believed. And Lindstrom would still ruin his reputation. Lindstrom was an educated American—he had the advantage in every way. That was probably the only reason Lindstrom let him go with a few more warnings. He knew Cesar was no real threat.

  I’ll find another job, he told himself. It will be okay.

  He couldn’t return night after night to clean Manny’s old lab anyway. That would hurt too much. Christ, what had he done?

  * * *

  Cesar left, tears starting again at the idea that he’d never be coming back to see Manny, would never talk to him again or scratch his head. He’d only gotten a few minutes away on the ATV when he decided he couldn’t go just like that. He had to go back, back to where Manny died, and pay his respects. Mourn. Apologize. Something.

  He rode in the other direction for a while, longer than he thought he should have. A burning smell in the air told him it was nearby, so why couldn’t he find it? He drove into a little dirt clearing that seemed familiar and stopped, trying to figure out which direction to go in. He sniffed and looked down for the source of the smell.

  “Oh, Manny.” What had looked like mud now appeared to be a blood-soaked spot of earth. Manny’s blood. Had they moved him to burn him? There was no way the men could have dragged him. More spots led out of the clearing. He cut the engine and followed the trail. At the edge of the clearing, he pushed aside a leafy bush.

  A leg sat in a dark puddle: a man’s leg, torn mid-thigh. He lurched away, and the leaves snapped back into place. Cesar tried to catch a breath but it felt like his throat was the size of a straw. He looked to the right. A hand stuck out of a patch of grass. Movement behind him. A growl.

  Cesar turned, air finally filling his lungs. “Oh Jesus, Manny, oh Jesus!”

  Manny––half his face and chest melted, fur scorched away in places, a chunk gone from his side and one of his legs––held a man in one mammoth hand. The man didn’t scream, so Cesar knew he was dead. Manny’s one eye was no longer black and soulful, but lighter. A thin, white film covered it now. Gore ran from gunshots and larger wounds in Manny’s chest, his face, his legs.

  Manny dropped the body with a thud and hooked his fingers together.

  Cesar sobbed. “Friend, Manny’s friend, oh Jesus.” He signed back, his hands shaking so much he could barely make his fingers meet.

  Manny signed again. Candy, eat, candy.

  Cesar reached into his pocket and struggled to unwrap a caramel, his arms, his whole body shaking as much as his hands. Then he unwrapped the other three in his pocket. Manny reached down and Cesar dumped them into the huge, black—bloody—palm.

  Manny tilted his head back and dropped the candies into his mouth, but then shook his head, groaning. Candy, candy, eat, want, candy, red, red, red.

  Manny scooped the body from the ground––the broken, bloody, dead body he’d dropped––and bit into it, chewed, and bobbed his head.

  Cesar’s throat was starting to tighten again. Candy. Red.

  Oh God.

  Cesar backed up until he hit a tree, shaking his head. No, not sweet, gentle Manny. This wasn’t right; it wasn’t fair. Lindstrom had turned Manny into some kind of monster. He remembered Lindstrom’s words—size, strength, intelligence. The motherfucker never said anything about bringing Manny back from the goddamned dead.

  Or making him eat people.

  The book he’d read said gorillas ate plants, fruits and vegetables. They were herbi-something, which meant they didn’t eat meat. Cesar was supposed to be sneaking his friend bananas and nuts and corn on the cob and caramels, not watching this half-burned, dead little man chew on one of the bastards who’d shot him.

  The hulking gorilla dropped to the ground on his side with a thud, his massive head in front of Cesar. Friend.

  Jesus, that eye, that wrong, milky eye. Cesar reached out and patted Manny’s forehead, groaning as his hand slipped into a wound. “Friend, little man… we’ll always be friends.”

  Manny rose after a few minutes and stood still, leaning, making no other movement. Like during so much of their relationship, unspoken sentiments seemed to pass between them. “See you later, Manny. See––see you tonight,” he said, as he always did, and that seemed to satisfy Manny. He disappeared into the jungle.

  Shaking, Cesar headed back, stopping once to vomit before he reached the compound. Once there, he didn’t go to the camp. Instead, he went around it and kept going until he recognized the landscape, then hid the ATV in the underbrush. He found his way to the bus and rode home as usual, not quite sure how he managed it all.

  Once home, he collapsed into an exhausted sleep filled with dreams of feeding candy to
half-eaten soldiers’ corpses and scratching Manny’s head, the flesh squishing beneath his fingers and falling away.

  * * *

  He woke late, only a few hours before the sun came up, grabbing a flashlight and rushing out, cursing that it would be almost daybreak by the time he got back. He argued with himself the whole time, his own fear warring with his feelings of responsibility toward Manny. He’d helped him escape––this was as much his doing as anyone’s. If he hadn’t helped, Manny might not have gotten out and away before someone discovered him and called for help.

  But if they’d recaptured him, would they have killed him? And would he have come back anyway?

  It was a damn tight knot he couldn’t unravel. What was done, was done. And he’d told Manny they’d be friends until the end. No matter what, he’d meant that.

  The bus ride took forever, but once he was on foot, he raced, hating the thought that Manny might think he had abandoned him. He found the ATV and went as fast as he dared, then parked it in some dense brush not far from the clearing. Would Manny even be here, waiting? How long could a 50-foot gorilla hide in the jungle? How long before he wandered out into plain view? Manny was smart, but he was also wrong now. Cesar didn’t know what to expect, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected this: Lindstrom was waiting for him, pistol in one hand, dim flashlight in the other. The morning was getting light enough to see now; Cesar had left his light at the ATV. Cesar wondered if the doctor had been out here with the flashlight all night.

  Manny surely would have noticed him, if so. But maybe… maybe he truly understood how to hide. Maybe the soldiers died because they were hurting him, and he only hid from Lindstrom to avoid being hurt, as usual. He just didn’t know.