Chapter 4
"No!" Galen said, curling his lip at the pink dress that his blond friend held out to him. "I am not going to wear that. You'll have to find something else." Alan had returned from a visit to a nearby farm with what he considered to be a great disguise, only to be rebuffed by Galen.
Alan smirked at the chimp's discomfort. "C'mon, Galen. You can't just drive the wagon into Central City without a disguise. By now, Urko's got every patrol under his command waiting for us. A little old lady driving a wagon full of hay is not going to arouse anyone's suspicion. It's the only way." A shadow fell over Alan's eyes as his expression turned serious. "Do it for Pete."
Galen stared hard into his friend's face for a moment, then snorted his displeasure. "All right, but next time, you get to put on the dress, and I will do the hiding." He snatched the proffered dress from Alan and wiggled into it, smoothing the fabric over his tunic underneath. Wrapping a shawl over his head, he glanced at Alan for approval.
Alan nodded silently and crawled onto the platform hidden under the wagon. After adjusting the straw blinding around the wagon's underside, Galen climbed into the driver's seat and flicked the reins to spur the horse into motion. He glanced at the overhead sun and wished for this day to be over.
They passed two checkpoints without drawing any suspicion. The sentries barely even glanced at an old woman driving a hay wagon, waving him through without bothering to search the vehicle. But Galen knew that the closer they got to the heart of Central City, the more vigilant the patrols would become. He prayed silently to the Lawgiver that their deception would hold.
As the wagon rumbled along a dirt road along the waterway that ran through the city, Galen noticed the increased number of mounted patrols passing him. He ducked his head, trying to act like a downcast peasant, hoping his nervousness would be interpreted as the anxiety of a country ape in the big city. He pulled on the reins to guide the horse onto a wooden bridge over the water. The clomping of the hooves on the wood matched the pounding of his heart. The eyes of the mounted soldiers seemed to linger on the wagon and its driver longer than necessary, and Galen's throat constricted.
Ahead, another checkpoint waited between him and his destination. Galen pulled on the reins to slow the horses as he approached the line of other wagons. He couldn't see much past the wagon in front of him, but he heard a commotion coming from the head of the line. The grunts of the gorillas and the protests of the human driver told him that at this checkpoint, the search would be thorough. After a few minutes, the wagon in front of him moved forward about ten feet. Galen resisted the urge to get down and walk around the wagon to ensure that Virdon could not be seen; he didn't want to draw any attention to himself or his cargo. He tried to breath normally, despite the growing pressure in his chest. He could hear ever beat of his heart in his ears, feel it in the vessels in his neck, and prayed that it couldn't be heard by anyone else. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, as alternating sensations of numbness and tingling surged up and down his limbs. He pulled the shawl closer around his head.
The line progressed again, and the wagon in front of him was approached by three gorillas. The human driver immediately ahead of him was roughly pulled from the driver's seat and thrown to the ground. The soldier with the markings of a lieutenant grabbed the man by the front of his shirt. "Have you seen any stray humans? One male, tall, with yellow hair, traveling with a chimpanzee?" the gorilla growled at the terrified man.
"N-No, sir," the human stammered. "I'm just delivering grain for my master, sir. I don't know anything about any stray humans, sir." Galen's stomach turned at the man's tremulous obeisance. No amount of verbal groveling would save this or any other human from a beating if the gorilla decided to administer it. Behind the lieutenant, the other sentries rifled through the contents of the wagon, not caring what they broke or damaged. When the officer barked the order to move on, everything—including the driver—was immediately dropped into a heap and left where it lay. The group of gorillas shuffled menacingly toward Galen's wagon.
Alan's ass hurt like hell. Every bump that the wooden wagon wheels hit jarred through his aching muscles and joints like steel spikes. The narrow slats of their makeshift platform dug into his back, and his whole body was coated in what felt like a six-inch layer of dust. Several times he had to clamp his hand over his mouth to stifle the cough that threatened to erupt from his tortured throat and lungs. He stared at the bottom of the wagon bed above him and concentrated on remaining absolutely quiet and still.
The wagon had stopped twice, and he had heard he voices of gorillas, questioning Galen before sending him on his way. The blond astronaut smirked at the efficacy of the disguise he had devised for his friend. No one seemed too concerned about an old female chimp driving a load of hay. 'Maybe it's the pink dress,' he thought wryly. He knew they were approaching the center of the city when the dirt road below him turned into a neatly constructed wooden bridge.
The wagon stopped again, for longer this time, and Alan knew that they must be at another sentry checkpoint. After a few minutes, the wagon moved forward, then stopped again. After a couple of more slow advances, he heard the approaching footfalls of gorillas.
"What's your business in Central City?" he heard a voice near the front of the wagon demand as two other sentries began to circle the wagon.
He held his breath as Galen answered in his best falsetto, "My son. He raises hay for the troopers' horses." Pausing, Galen whimpered slightly, reminding Alan of his grandmother. "He usually—"
"Give me that pitchfork," the gorilla demanded, ignoring Galen's patter.
"Oh, yes, of course." Alan heard the scrape of wood on wood. "He usually delivers it himself," the chimp continued in a tone that sounded like a worried mother, "but this morning he had this terrible cold." The wagon sank on its axles as two gorillas climbed into the wagon bed and began poking around. Small pieces of hay drifted down onto Alan's face. Suddenly, he squinted against unfiltered daylight as the soldiers uncovered a broken board in the wagon bed. Luckily, the gorillas were already jumping down from the vehicle and didn't notice the blue eyes staring out the hole. Galen's voice squeaked nervously, "I said, 'Now you stay in bed. I'll deliver that hay myself.' Oh, yes, he's such a good boy. He likes all of you gorillas. He's so helpful and kind and considerate…" his voice trailed off as the lieutenant returned to stand next to the front of the wagon.
"All right, go ahead. Dump your hay and come right out." Air escaped Alan's lungs between clenched teeth as little starbursts began to flash before his vision; he hadn't even realized how long he had been holding his breath.
Galen tittered a high-pitched, "Oooh, thank you. Good bye." Then the reins lashed at the horses, and the wagon moved ahead at a brisk clip. 'When we get out of this, nominate that ape for an Oscar,' Alan grinned with relief.
The wagon continued for another ten minutes, slowing down to take a number of twists and turns before finally pulling to a slow stop. Alan felt the wagon shift as Galen hopped down from the driver's seat and padded to the back of the wagon. The straw skirting around the bottom of the wagon bed that had hidden him from view was pulled away, and he blinked against the light that assaulted his eyes. The chimp waved for him to emerge and follow him behind a fence and into a thick copse of shrubs. Galen quickly stripped off the dress and shawl from the tunic he wore underneath and shoved them under a bush.
"We must hide until nightfall," the chimp began, cutting off the astronaut's protests with an upraised hand. "There are mounted sentries patrolling all the streets. I saw them as we entered the city. And we need a place to stay while we gather information and form a plan. My parent's house is in the heart of the city. We can go there."
Alan placed a hand on Galen's shoulder, and asked hesitantly, "Galen, they won't turn us in? I mean, I know they're your family and everything, but I'm just another human, and a hunted one at that."
"It will be awkward, yes. But they are my parents, and they would not hand either of us over to Urko. Believe it or not, my father dislikes Urko almost as much as you do," he finished with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, you haven't met my mother. She is quite formidable. My father wouldn't dare do anything to upset her."
"I hope you're right. Ok, we'll wait until dark." Virdon hunkered down into a cross-legged position and pulled open his backpack. Delving into the sack, he produced a chunk of bread and offered it to his companion. "Hungry?"
Once the sun set, the number of pedestrians on the streets dropped dramatically. Galen suspected that the city lay under a blanket of near martial law; even if a curfew was not official, no human and few apes wanted to face one of Urko's soldiers in a deserted street. However, the cover of darkness provided anonymity to the two figures furtively scurrying along fences and rows of shrubs, and their frequent backward glances belied a paranoia of discovery.
With one final look around for detection, the two ducked into a doorway under a thatch-roofed porch attached to one of the larger stone dwellings. Galen raised a furry hand and quietly rapped his knuckles on the wooden door. After a moment they heard the rattle of a bolt being drawn back, and the door opened slightly to reveal an older female chimp peering cautiously into the night.
When she saw the identity of her visitor, her face lit up and she gasped in surprise. "Ah, Galen!" She motioned with her hands for him to come to her.
"Oh, mother!" Galen exclaimed as he embraced her in a fierce hug. Alan smiled slightly at the reunion, but then dropped his eyes respectfully.
"Oh, oh, oh, Galen..." Ann patted her son on the back with both hands, her affection beaming from her face. "Come in, come in." She was already pulling him into the cozy living room. Ducking to the house after them, Virdon closed and bolted the door. "Oh, how are you? Oh, Galen," she crooned, continuing to pat and embrace her son. "So good to see you."
"Wonderful to see you, too," Galen replied as he gently withdrew from his arms. Ann hadn't even noticed that there was a human in the room. Galen turned toward Alan, guiding his mother over to his friend. "Mother, I would like you to meet my very good friend, Alan Virdon." The two friends watched as a wall came crashing down over Ann's face.
"Hello," Alan injected quickly, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.
Ann eyes raked up and down the human, as if she were looking at an exotic animal that she thought might bite. "How do you do, Virdon?" She asked in a neutral voice, now studying the human's face.
"Fine." He waited nervously for Ann to turn her gaze away from him. Finally, she turned back to Galen and held his face between her hands.
"Have you eaten? Oh, you look so tired." Indeed, Galen had dark circles under his eyes, and he had lost weight since his mother had last seen him.
"We'd love something to eat. Only tell me first, where's father?"
Ann nodded toward a door on the other side of the room. "He's in his study. He has a great deal to do these days. He's just been elected to the council." She patted his clasped hands. "Now, sit down. I'll get your father." After tapping her knuckles on his chest in affection, she left them standing alone in the living room.
Galen walked a few more steps into the room with hesitation, almost as though he was afraid of moving too far into the house. His eyes focused on the door through which his mother had exited. Alan trailed behind him.
"Your mother seems very nice, Galen," he commented quietly, breaking the awkward silence.
"Oh, yes," he replied with a wistful sigh. "You may need to find another word to describe my father." He turned his head to roll his eyes at his friend. Just then, the door opened again, and an older male chimpanzee preceded Ann into the room. The shape of his face was similar to Galen's, and there were streaks of white in the fur around his chin. He carried himself with a quiet strength that could be sensed even from across the room. His expression, however, was one of suspicion and scorn. With narrowed eyes, he studied his son.
"Father." Galen said simply. Yalu remained silent, his hands clenching into fists at his side. Galen sighed deeply and after a moment, turned slightly towards Alan. "Uh, Father, this, uh—" he stumbled, unsure how to introduce his companion and friend to his stoic father. He closed his eyes with another sigh as he realized that Yalu would rather be introduced to a slug he found in his garden. Galen decided to cut to the chase. "We need your help. Our friend, Peter Burke, has been taken prisoner." There, he'd said it. His friend.
Yalu slowly crossed the room, eyeing Virdon warily. "He's a human. I'm an ape. He's my enemy." The derision in his voice cut deeply into Galen's heart.
Galen turned to Alan again, and gave a roll of his eyes as an explanation. He knew that if he was going to get his father to help him, he needed to stand up to him on this issue. He stepped forward to approach his father. "He is not an enemy!" he snapped, perhaps more harshly than he had intended, but he screwed up his courage and continued. "He is my friend! You'll be helping me!"
"Then it's between you and Burke," the older ape replied in kind. He turned to retreat to his study, but as he did, he glimpsed his wife's face. Her expression was a riot of emotion; anger, fear…love. Yalu stopped in his tracks, locking eyes with his wife. Then he spoke over his shoulder to Galen, not trusting himself to turn around and look at his son.
"I will give you shelter, but I won't help you in any other way. I'll send a servant to the roof as a lookout." His voice was gruff and thick with emotion. He glanced back toward Ann with an expression of relief that rivaled the one on her face. Then he regarded his son once more, giving him an opportunity, should he choose to take it. "If you wish to see me, I'll be in the garden. Just you, son!" he stabbed a finger in Galen's direction while glaring daggers at Virdon. The door only slammed a little bit on his way out.
Burke waited, alone and strapped to the table, for what seemed like hours. No guards prodding him, no Wanda interrogating him, no background noise ringing in his ears. He tried to close his eyes to catch some sleep while he had the chance, but within minutes, his mind was flooded with gibbering demons that clawed their way into his memory and dragged out terrors he had forgotten. His eyes flew open and he bit back a scream. He felt his own teeth tear at his parched and cracked bottom lip, and tasted the salty flow of blood.
At first, there were just flashes of imagery: a large, thick hand swinging toward his face, a dark-haired woman with tear-streaked cheeks, a damp cement floor lit only by a bare bulb swinging overhead. With the images came emotions, anger, fear…pain. He'd experienced all these emotions before, but something about the images made the feelings more intense, as if he were enduring them for the first time. His head tossed back and forth on the table as he tried to shake the memories from his consciousness.
"No!," he screamed before he could stop the word from erupting from his throat. But it was too late for denials any longer. The floodgates of his mind were open, and the ugly memories began to spill forth.
Pete looked up from his intense study of the cement floor at the sound of a key rattling in the lock of the main door. Man, his mom was going to be majorly pissed. For the hundredth time in the last four hours, he wondered how he had let his buddies talk him into such a stupid stunt as shoplifting. It was supposed to be easy. The three of them were going to surreptitiously pocket some rubbers at the corner drug store and casually stroll out as if nothing were wrong. After all, they were too young to buy the lousy condoms, but not too young to know what to do with them. But he had gotten caught. He still didn't know if the clerk has seen him or if he just had a guilty look on his face, but the fact of the matter was, he'd been busted and his friends were gone. He'd given the officers his mom's work phone number, and now waited for her to come bail him out of jail. Yeah, she was going to be angry at him, and he was probably going to be grounded for the rest of his life, but he deserved it.
He snapped out of his reverie when a police officer stopped in front of his cell. The officer turned his head to speak to someone. "Here he is, Frank." As a burly man stepped into view, Pete's eyes widened with fear. Shit! He watched as Frank ran his hand over his crew-cut hair and turned a piercing stare at the 16-year-old in the cell, a snarl curling his lip.
"Thanks for calling me, Joe, instead of Rita. It would break that woman's heart to see this," Frank patted Joe on the shoulder.
"Sure, Frank. When I saw the kid's parent info, I thought she was probably the same Rita you've been talking about for the last year. And I thought maybe you'd be better equipped to handle this than she would. I'm sure if you talk to Mr. Garazano, he'd be willing to drop the charges. Be a shame to see the kid's future ruined." Joe opened the door to the cell.
"C'mon, boy," Frank growled. "Don't make me come in there and get you." Pete pushed himself up from the cot and his long legs covered the distance to the door of the cell in two strides. Even though he had shot up over the last summer and was one of the tallest kids in his class, Frank still had a good six inches over him.
"Wouldn't want to inconvenience you," Pete quipped softly, stopping in front of the big man. Frank's expression grew more furious as he grabbed the boy's chin and viciously tilted his head back to look him in the face.
"What did you say, boy?" The threat behind the thin veil of civility was evident in the man's dark eyes. Pete swallowed audibly, mentally cursing himself for not knowing when to keep his big mouth shut.
"Nothing, sir." He tried to sound contrite. Frank released his chin only to put a vice-like grip on his arm and began to walk him down the corridor. By the time they reached Frank's car, Pete was sure his arm was going to fall off from the bruising hold. Frank opened the back door and shoved the boy in, slamming the door shut before getting in behind the steering wheel.
"If you know what's good for you, boy, you won't say a word to me until we get home." Pete stiffly wrapped his arms around himself and turned his head to stare out the window. He knew that when they got home, there wasn't going to be much talking going on from either side.
In fact, Frank had barely closed the front door behind them when Pete felt the first blow on the side of his head, sending him sprawling on the floor. He opened his eyes in time to see the big man straddling him, reaching down to pick him up by the collar of his shirt and slamming him into the wall. There was no point in fighting back, he had learned that lesson the hard way. Ten years in the marines and another twelve as a cop had loaded Frank with plenty of muscles and the training to overpower someone twice Pete's size. He hung limply in Frank's grip, the only noise in the room was the occasional grunt from the big man as he rained blows onto the boy's head and torso.
After a few minutes, Frank's rage subsided and he released Pete, who slid boneless down the wall with his arms wrapped around his hurting ribs. "You want to be a criminal, punk?" Frank spat at him in disgust. "Fine, I'll treat you like a criminal."
Suddenly a pair of handcuffs appeared in the big man's hand as he threw Pete onto his stomach and wrenched his arms behind his back. After clicking both cuffs into place, he pulled the boy to his feet and began to steer him deeper into the house. Frank yanked open a door in the kitchen to a staircase leading down to the basement. Pushing Pete ahead of him, he muscled the boy down the stairs. When he was release, Pete fell to his knees on the hard cement, barely twisting to the side in time to keep him from falling flat on his face. He felt the cold dampness of the cement floor against his cheek, and watched the shifting shadows as the bulb overhead swung to and fro.
"You can cool off down here for a while. And when your mother gets home, all you are going to tell her is that you got into a fight at school." It was the last thing he heard before he slid into unconsciousness.
When Wanda and the guards entered the interrogation room, Burke was in a semi-fugue state, trapped in the memories replaying in his mind. She was pleased that he had not been able to fall asleep, just as the book indicated would happen. Everything was progressing well.
