Zombie Kong - Anthology (2 page)

Lindstrom sighed. Cesar wanted to punch him and point out that he wrote just fine, thank you, but in their eyes it was a better excuse for not leaving a note than him simply being worried about Manny.

He described Manny’s symptoms: how he’d charged the front of the cage, how he’d seemed so sad and tired, and how he’d kept vomiting and wouldn’t stop. He almost left out the caramels, but it might be important to Manny’s health. He’d rather get in trouble again than not tell them something that could make a difference.

Lindstrom wrote on a clipboard, looking up at Manny sometimes, then scrawling away. He pressed hard and wrote with a scritch-scratching that sounded to Cesar like something trying to claw its way out of a box. Then Lindstrom thanked him and told him he needed to leave now.

“Is he going to be okay? Manny? Do you know what it is? Like the flu, or something?”

Lindstrom smiled—the first time Cesar could remember—and said that he’d be fine,
just
fine.

Cesar worried all day. Lindstrom saying Manny would be fine didn’t reassure him; Lindstrom was the one making Manny sick. He didn’t know exactly what they did or why, but he knew it was cruel. The most he was ever told was that it was important work that would save lives. He almost hadn’t got the job when he’d asked who saved the animals’ lives. He saw the interviewer’s eyes go dark with disinterest, so he’d backpedaled and said at least their lives weren’t wasted like they would be in the wild, where nature was so cruel and they’d die for nothing. Here, they served a purpose, and he’d be proud to be even a small part of such an operation. He just needed the money.

That was before he knew exactly where the hell he’d be working. The compound was mostly underground, hidden from anyone who might wander that deep into the jungle, like tourists from Puerto Madero on ATV or hiking tours, looking for springs or ruins. Cesar and the other few people who cleaned during the nights stayed in a small camp about a mile away. They rode ATVs back and forth and went home on their days off. They had to hike to a base a mile or so on the other side of the camp, and then they were bussed to Puerto Madero where most took other busses home or had family pick them up. Two he knew of took trains home from there all the way to Guatemala. The bus ride sometimes lasted longer than usual because they took different routes all the time.

The whole point was to make it hard for the workers to find the compound on their own, Cesar guessed. He didn’t want to find it, except… he missed Manny on his days off and worried about him being there with the doctors who didn’t seem to care about anything but their charts. The
smart
people didn’t even know he knew sign language. Manny didn’t try it with them, only with Cesar. And they said he was too dumb to learn.

He opened his wallet and pulled out a piece of paper, soft with age and use, where he’d scribbled down the signs to teach Manny. His niece had brought home library books for him from school, one about gorillas and their habitat and one about Koko, the gorilla who knew more sign language than any other, with some of the most common signs included. She’d brought him an LSM book, the one that showed signs the deaf used in Mexico, but by then he’d grown familiar with the ones Koko used.

He’d written notes about the signs and made crude drawings so he could learn them himself before teaching Manny. He’d brought candy—caramels, butterscotch and the red, strawberry kind. When he talked to Manny in a sweet voice, he’d come right out of his shell, moving from the corner where he had sat at first over to the door. He was smart and gentle, and deserved much better than he had. Those eyes of Manny’s, they could show as much feeling as any of them were capable of experiencing. More than some of them, no doubt.

When Cesar got to work that night, he went right to the lab where Manny was kept, even though he usually didn’t get there until later in his shift. Manny sat in the corner, the back of his head against the wall. He stared up at the ceiling. And he looked different, darker or… bigger?

“Hey, buddy.”

Manny turned his head and looked at Cesar. His lips twitched into a snarl.

“Manny, come over here, it’s all right.”

Manny roared and took a halting step forward. He tilted his head, shook it, and slowly made the sign for friend.

“That’s right! Manny’s friend, yeah, like always.” Cesar reached his hand up, his fingers just poking through the door, trembling. Manny stepped forward and leaned his furry forehead against them. “That’s good, little man.”

Manny signed ‘candy, red’, but Cesar said, “Okay, but just one piece until we see if you’re going to get sick.” Looking into those gorilla eyes that seemed to have more caring and life in them than Lindstrom’s or Rico’s, Cesar doubted all the candy in the world could be the problem. The problem was whatever hellish experiments they ran in this place. That fucking deformed, huge fish in the other room stood as evidence to that.

He scratched Manny’s forehead while Manny chewed the candy with so little enthusiasm, that it broke Cesar’s heart. What could he do but be Manny’s friend? “Friends ’til the end, buddy,” he whispered. The end. That might not be far off for Manny, thanks to that fucking doctor.

Manny groaned. His eyes closed. Cesar stepped to the side in case Manny was about to throw up again, but he kept rubbing the poor gorilla’s head.

And he felt Manny’s forehead
move
under his fingers. It
shifted
. Manny’s eyes snapped open and he looked at Cesar in what Cesar could have sworn was pleading,
please
… Manny hit the side of his own head with his fist, grunting.

“Don’t hit yourself––don’t. You hurting?” Cesar rubbed his forehead a little harder, hoping to help, and he felt it again, as if the bones under the flesh were spreading out. “
Jesus H
.”

Manny threw his head back and howled. Cesar jumped back as Manny hurled himself against the door, growling like a rabid animal.
Or a madman
, Cesar thought. The door gave each time Manny slammed against it, something that shouldn’t happen so easily, not with steel. Manny stopped, panting and groaning, and looked at Cesar again with those same pleading eyes, even though his teeth were bared.

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.”