and tossing it at her. Angie caught the wrench and slung the rifle over

  her shoulder.

  The corpse came at her, moaning and working his rotten teeth.

  Angie slammed the wrench across the man's temple. The man's head

  whipped to one side and he staggered to the left. Thick black ooze

  seeped from a crack Angie's blow had made.

  The corpse was righting himself when Park came up behind

  him with a hammer. Park slammed down on the corpse's head. The

  skull splintered and caved, sending black pulp upward across Park's

  sleeve. The top of the hammer buried itself into the man's head. The

  man jerked, then slumped.

  He didn't fall, though. He hung there, his head still stuck to

  Park's hammer.

  "Oh dammit to fuck," said Park, shaking the hammer. The

  corpse hung there, jerking as Park shook his arm, but otherwise still.

  The hammer didn't come free.

  Angie chuckled and stepped over.

  "The fuck you laughin' at?" said Park, still shaking the hammer.

  "Oh I think you know," said Angie. "Hold still." She brought

  up the wrench and slammed downward onto the man's skull, to the side

  of Park's hammer. The blow knocked the corpse free, and it fell to the

  ground.

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  "Thanks," said Park, grimacing at the black all over his arm and

  hammer. He whipped the hammer clean as best he could. He dropped it

  back in the wheelbarrow and Angie tossed the wrench in after it.

  They both looked around in silence. No other threats were seen.

  Park took hold of the wheelbarrow and Angie unslung the rifle from

  her shoulder. They continued, Park pushing the wheelbarrow and Angie

  holding her rifle ready.

  "So anyway," said Angie after a few moments of silent

  walking. "Like I was saying. If someone kept quiet, if they didn't call

  attention to themselves, I bet they could stay holed up in that office for

  quite a while and be pretty safe."

  Park said nothing. They walked along in silence. The wheel

  squeaked and rain fell. They reached the office without further incident.

  Park left the wheelbarrow by the stoop. Angie walked up the steps,

  doing her best to ignore the hanging corpse and the horrible wet rotting

  smell it gave off. She stepped over the dead deer still covering most of

  the stoop. She put her hand on the handle and watched Park coming up

  the stairs after her.

  "They'll be fine, you know," he said.

  "Hmm?"

  "I've been listening to all the crap you're saying. How safe the

  place is, how long someone could hide here. You're right and they'll be

  fine."

  "I know," said Angie, her hand still on the handle. "At least I

  hope I know. I'm just trying to make myself feel better."

  Angie stepped farther inside the office as Park shut the door

  behind her. Maylee and Dalton were sitting at the bank of monitors and

  switches. A box of crackers was open in Maylee's lap. She sat watching

  the monitors, slowly raising a cracker to her mouth and chewing. The

  crackers were a big find the night before. One of the zookeepers

  lockers had thankfully been left open. And inside, among various

  articles of clothing and a few books, was a half-eaten box of stale

  crackers. That and a working water fountain in the breakroom had

  provided a very meager dinner.

  Dalton was chewing a cracker in his hand and staring at the

  screens. He saw Mom and swallowed.

  He snatched the box from Maylee. Maylee made no protest,

  sitting back farther in her chair and chewing slowly.

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  "Mom!" said Dalton, standing and walking over with the box.

  "Have some more."

  "No," said Angie, shaking her head. "Park and I have already

  eaten. You guys need to have most of it."

  "Why?" said Maylee from her seat.

  Angie sighed. "Because you guys are hiding in here while Park

  and I go to get Lori."

  "What?" said Maylee, sitting up straight.

  "Don't start," said Angie. Dalton shrugged and started pacing

  the room, carrying the box and watching all the screens.

  "But I want to help," said Maylee.

  "I said don't start."

  Maylee stood and walked over.

  "I can't believe this," said Maylee. She spoke quietly, calmly.

  Angie noticed this. Just a few weeks ago, Maylee would have screamed

  and stomped around. "I can't believe you still don't trust me."

  Angie glanced over at Dalton. He was oblivious to them,

  investigating some maps of the zoo that were plastered onto a far wall.

  Angie turned back to Maylee. "I am trusting you, Maylee. I'm leaving

  you in charge here. Dalton's still limping. He needs to rest. I'm trusting

  you to keep him safe."

  Maylee fell quiet, looking at Dalton. She looked back to Angie.

  Angie could tell she was conflicted. She bit her lip, then nodded.

  "Okay."

  "Thank you," said Angie, and meant it. She unslung the rifle

  from her shoulder and handed it to Maylee. Maylee took it, frowning.

  "Take this," said Angie. "Darts are in the desk over there."

  Angie walked to the gun case to get the last remaining rifle. She

  saw Maylee frowning at the rifle and looking at her bat propped up

  against her chair.

  Angie took the rifle from the case and slung it over her

  shoulder. "Not everything can be knocked on the head, Maylee."

  "A lot of things can be knocked on the head."

  "Still, try to keep things far enough away that you don't need

  to."

  Maylee nodded. She walked back to the chair and sat, placing

  the rifle upright on the floor in front of her. Angie wanted to change her

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  mind. To hide with her children there in the office and make the best

  life they could. But she knew it was untenable. She knew eventually

  they would have to deal with the corpses, the animals and the crazy

  man who had made the zoo his own kingdom. They would have to deal

  with Gregory. And she'd rather have the kids safe here than in the

  middle of that.

  Angie turned and looked around. She found another of the

  hand-held communicators sitting in a chair across the room. She

  walked over and picked it up. She took the one she'd been using from

  her pocket and read the number on the back. Dropping hers back into

  her pocket, she adjusted various dials on the one she'd just found.

  "You're becoming a real whiz with those things, Mom," said

  Maylee.

  Angie smirked as she adjusted settings. "Well, we had lots of

  free time last night."

  Satisfied she had it working, she walked back to Maylee and

  handed her the communicator. She took hers from her pocket. "Try it."

  Maylee frowned at the communicator. She clicked the large

  button on the side and held it to her mouth. "Hello?"

  Her voice came from the communicator in Angie's hand. But

  not from the speakers set all over the room and zoo.

  "There you go," said Angie, smiling and putting the

  communicator back in her pocket. "This way you can talk directly to

  me. I can tune mine to talk back to you if you need anything."

  Maylee nodded. She shifted in her chair to hike up one hip. She

  slid the communicator into her pocket and sat back. "Got it."

  Angie nodded and looked at Dalton. He was staring intently at

  one of the maps on the wall. She looked over at Park, who shrugged

  back at her.

  "So what's the plan?" he said.

  "Well," said Angie. "Here's what I've been thinking. There are

  lots of people scattered all over this zoo. They hate being trapped here.

  They hate Gregory. They hate the crazy zookeepers."

  "We ran into a few of them," said Park, looking over at Maylee.

  Angie followed his eyes and saw Maylee nod. Park nodded back and

  continued. "They seem a little on the bat-shit side."

  "They're desperate," said Angie. "They feel helpless. We'll give

  them weapons so they can defend themselves against the corpses. And

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  the animals. And the zookeepers. We'll round up as many as we can,

  we'll get food for them, we'll find Lori, and then..."

  "Mom," said Dalton from across the room. He was leaning

  forward on his tiptoes, staring intently at a large map on the far wall.

  "Come here a sec."

  Angie stepped over and looked. Park and Maylee followed. The

  map was far more detailed than the ones for the general public. It

  detailed staff-only buildings, security routes and shortcuts for

  employees to take.

  "According to this," said Dalton, "there's only two places

  someone could have opened all the cages from."

  "Where?" said Angie, leaning in to look more closely.

  "Well, one's here, where we are," said Dalton, pointing at a spot

  on the map labeled Communications Office. Several icons on the

  building indicated the services housed there. One of the icons was a

  small padlock. Angie guessed it indicated, as Dalton had said, the

  ability to control the locks in the zoo.

  Dalton kept pointing and moving his hand in a long line clear

  across to the other side of the map. It came to rest at a small building

  labeled Emergency Backup Station. "And the other one's here," he said.

  Angie scanned the map quickly. Dalton was right, only the

  Communications Office and the Backup Station had the padlock icon.

  "So that must be where Gregory is."

  "That must be where Lori is, too," said Park.

  Angie nodded and stepped away from the map. She took the

  folded map she'd grabbed the night before from her pocket and

  unfolded it. She held it up to the large map, comparing. She found the

  spot on the smaller map that corresponded to the Backup Station. She

  made a mental note of it, then folded the map and shoved it back into

  her pocket. "Okay, then. Now we know where we're going."

  "Then what?" said Park.

  "Hmm?" said Angie.

  "You said we find Lori, then something. Then what?"

  Angie thought about it. "I'm sick of running, Park. We have no

  home left back in Lakewood. This place is big. We can clear out the

  corpses and lock it back up. Let everyone who wants to go, go, and

  everyone who wants to stay, stay. We could stay here for who knows

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  how long."

  "What are you saying, Mom?" said Dalton.

  "I'm saying that once we get Lori and force Gregory to step

  down, we're taking over the zoo for ourselves."

  Seventeen

  Lee sat on an overturned milk crate in the kitchen of the Bites.

  He wiped a steak knife on a rag in his other hand. The knife left a thin

  line of blood on the rag.

  Lee smiled at the young blonde woman sitting on a second milk

  crate across from him. "You're all set."

  The young woman smiled, sweat collecting on her forehead.

  She rolled down her sleeve, trickles of blood running down her arm.

  The woman stood, revealing a line of Keepers behind her.

  Some looked stern and focused. Many looked scared. Lee felt for them.

  These were tough times.

  "Next," said Lee.

  A young man with fat cheeks stepped up and sat down on the

  milk crate. He looked around nervously. He looked at the knife in Lee's

  hand, then over to Lee's left. Lee followed his gaze to the three bodies

  stacked in the corner. All with throats sawed open and heads pushed

  back. Dark blood stained their faces and the floor beneath them. Darts

  were embedded in each of their foreheads, assuring they wouldn't get

  up again.

  Lee looked back to the young man. The young man swallowed

  and looked back at Lee.

  "It's sad, really," said Lee. "I think one or two of them might

  have changed their minds at the end. I saw it in their eyes, but by then

  the knife was already in and the blood was already out."

  The young man blinked and nodded.

  Lee smiled at him. "But this isn't about them. This is about you.

  About us. The Keepers. Are you a Keeper, son?"

  The young man, who might have actually been a year older

  than Lee, nodded. "Yes, sir. I am."

  "Do you commit to the Keepers Code? Do you promise to

  keep order? To keep the weak ones safe and the strong ones in line?"

  "I do, sir."

  "Good," said Lee, nodding. Outside, the rain picked up. Lee

  heard it pounding on the windows. It was late morning but the room

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  was dark. "Lift up your sleeve."

  The young man paused, then swallowed again. He grabbed his

  left sleeve and rolled it up, exposing his bicep and shoulder.

  "Lean in," said Lee. The young man did, turning to present his

  upper arm, just below the shoulder. Sweat already collected on the

  young man's forehead.

  Lee leaned forward and brought up the steak knife. Slowly,

  carefully, he carved a large K in the young man's shoulder. Blood

  pooled in the lines and the young man winced with each stroke.

  Lee finished and sat back, examining his handiwork. Blood

  trickled from the K, but Lee knew that could be wiped away. The K

  would last. Lee was proud.

  "Good job," said Lee. "You can go." The young man nodded

  and rolled down his sleeve. Blood seeped into his shirt. He stood and

  walked to the side.

  Lee wiped the knife on the rag and surveyed the others. Still

  quite a few to go. It would be a long morning.

  The communicator on his belt crackled to life. Lee jerked in

  surprise. He'd almost forgotten he had the thing.

  "Lee?" came a voice from the communicator. It was Gregory.

  Lee placed the rag and knife on the crate in front of him. He

  took the communicator from his belt and held it to his mouth. He

  clicked the button on the side. "Sir? Is that you?"

  * * *

  Lori strained against the ropes holding her legs to the chair.

  Gregory had his back to her, focusing on the microphone on the desk.

  She desperately wanted to believe the ropes were looser after days of

  straining, but she knew they were not. She wasn't going anywhere, but

  she couldn't stop trying. She pulled at the ropes with her fingers, tips

  already raw from effort. The ropes wouldn't budge.

  As she struggled, she stared at the remains of her phone in the

  corner. She wondered if she could put it back together. She longed to

  try. She wanted to rip the ropes free, run to the phone and call Ella. Just

  speak to her for a few seconds before the phone finally fell apart for

  good.

  Gregory spoke and Lori flinched. His voice grated on her, even

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  when he wasn't speaking to her. He spoke into that stupid microphone.

  Someone responded over the speaker that also sat on the desk. Lori

  thought she recognized the voice. It sounded like Lee, the quiet

  zookeeper boy. But then, it didn't sound like Lee. Not anymore.

  "Sir?" said Lee's voice. "Its an honor to hear from you. We've

  been listening to your broadcasts and I would like to thank you for all

  you've done."

  Lori rolled her eyes to no one and pulled at the ropes. Her heart

  jumped when her right leg shifted. Just a tiny bit. Nothing that would

  even be visible. But it was more than she'd managed in days. Lori

  almost couldn't believe it. She had hope.

  Mom looks like something is wrong. She stares blankly at the

  road as she steers the car.

  "Are you okay, Mom?" says Lori.

  "No," says Mom.

  "Thank you, Lee," said Gregory into the microphone. "You're

  too kind. I'm calling because I need your help."

  "Help, sir?" said Lee's voice. Lori pulled and tugged at the

  ropes, desperate to replicate the movement she'd managed a few

  seconds ago. She couldn't. "Anything, sir," said Lee. "The Keepers are

  at your command."

  "Good, good," said Gregory. "That's good to hear. As you're no

  doubt aware, a woman has brought chaos to our zoo. First she let those

  things outside in. Then she and her gang have somehow turned the

  animals themselves against the zoo. They should be attacking the

  creatures, driving them back. But instead they attack our own citizens.

  It breaks my heart to see it. She has to be responsible. It is the only

  explanation."

  "I agree sir," said Lee's voice. "She came to the Bites the other

  day and nearly started a riot. If I had realized how truly dangerous she