"Group of eight," I murmured, peering through the binoculars. "Watching the rooftops. Tell them to keep their distance. They might be seen if they go too close to the edge."
The ape beside me huffed as he relayed the message and there was a pause as he watched for a response and I kept my eyes on the soldiers.
"Any stragglers?" Blue Eyes asked.
"Not yet. They're staying together," I said, squinting. "Wait... they're turning. Heading further west." I lowered the binoculars, wiggling away from the edge of the building on my stomach, rolling over to watch Blue signing. Past him, I could see the strings of apes on rooftops, the lines of communication extending all the way over the city.
"Hey," I said, nodding off to the south, where a chimp had a hand raised, the signal for a message waiting to be passed on. "Over there."
Blue Eyes followed my pointing finger, watching the chimp sign. I squinted, but although my vocabulary was coming along fast, I still couldn't keep up with the pace of their communication.
"Single soldier. Alone," Blue Eyes said. "Inside locked building. Can't get to them."
"Where?"
"Two, five," he said, pointing north then east.
I nodded. "Okay. I'll take him." I handed over the binoculars, clumsily signed to the other chimp and jumped to my feet.
Blue watched me with cautious eyes, but I just gave him a hard nod and strode away. One of the other chimps on our roof waiting to relay messages down to the ground knuckled forwards to take my place.
The network had been Blue Eyes's idea and he'd implemented it well. I'd even managed to talk him and Caesar into letting some of the female apes be a part of it. The mothers and young remained out of harm's way, but the other adult females had stepped up to the task without hesitation. The thought made something twitch in my chest. A flicker in the space my heart used to be.
.
.
Reaching the ground, I pulled my blue checked bandana, now a permanent fixture, up over my mouth and nose and headed one block north before turning east, honing in on my destination while keeping out of sight. It didn't take long for me to find the right building.
It was a bank, all its windows intact. The sheer volume of unbroken glass made it stand out. The government had been very concerned about people robbing the banks, posting guards on them almost instantly, but once the severity of the virus became apparent, looters were far more concerned with supplies of food and water than money.
I looked the building over in more detail. The enemy must have got in somehow. That meant I could get inside too. Retreating slightly, I rounded the block from a distance, watching for any movement. I soon caught sight of the watcher, just inside a third-floor window, looking west.
Backtracking out of his line of vision, I skirted around the other way. I circled the building completely without seeing a way in and, stymied, crouched down to watch the distorted figure again. They had got in. But how?
Slipping away, I made my way to the other side of the building and risked darting across the street to the base of the walls. If there was someone watching this building, I'd have to trust to my bandana and my long hair to keep them from getting a good look at me. If they tried to shot me... well, maybe they would have bad aim.
Even creeping along the walls, it still took me two passes to spot the discrepancy. It was nothing more than a fraction of a shadow along the join of a door and I had to come within inches of the gap to see it. The door wasn't completely closed.
I extracted my knife and dug it carefully into the crack, levering the door open until I could hold it with my fingertips. Slipping inside, I felt along the frame in the semi-darkness and shook my head. They'd stuffed something into the jamb, preventing the latch from catching. Very carefully, I eased the door closed, making sure to leave a tiny gap, just as they had. Then, with my knife still held tightly in my grasp, I felt my way blindly along the hallway.
It took me even longer to find the stairs than it had to find the way in, time enough for my nerves to spike and dissipate again. My heart was still beating fast, but my hands were steady as I crept up as silently as I could. I was getting used to the nerves. It seemed to be the only thing I felt anymore.
Unfortunately, the door to the third floor was closed and I'd gotten completely turned around in my search downstairs, so I had no way of knowing where the soldier was in relation to the door. There could be several walls between us or nothing at all. I spent an eternity stood in silence, listening with all my might, trying to hear past the pulsing of blood in my ears but getting nothing. Eventually, I reached out and grasped the handle, turning it in infinitesimally small increments, half expecting to be shredded with gunfire at any moment. I survived long enough to the catch to click free obnoxiously loudly.
By some miracle, the hinges didn't creak, but the door did scrape a little on the carpeted floor, making me wince as I eased it open to the point where I could peer through. There was no one in sight, but I could see out a window, to where the sun was peaking in the sky. South. So they were to my right. I eased the door open a few more inches, hating every scuff against the carpet, and slipped through.
Hugging the wall, I inched along the hallway, chancing glances into every room, fingering the grip of my knife nervously until the crackle of a radio made me freeze.
"Negative," a male voice said after the crackling had died away. "Not since the five kongs reported earlier. Over."
I frowned. Kongs? Maybe I'd misheard. There was another spate of static, a garbled voice on the other end of the radio, and I took the cover to creep another few steps forwards.
"Understood, on my way now. Out."
I froze, the voice only feet away, issuing from the very next doorway. Scuttling forwards, I waited with bated breath, heart pounding again as I listened to some concentrated movement then footsteps.
I reaffirmed my grip on my knife, taking a deep breath, my back flat again the wall.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Movement. A leg first, followed almost instantly by a torso.
I launched myself forwards, my knife leading the charge but being deflected off body armour. They gave a short cry of shock that turned into a yell of aggression. A hard fist drove into my side as their other hand went for their gun. I slashed and blood rose from a wound on a wrist. They tried to retreat but I pressed harder, bringing my knee up between their legs. They twisted their hips just in time, taking the blow on their thigh, but I kicked their knee out sideways and they staggered. We both went down with me on top and I shoved an arm aside, giving me a clear swing at their throat.
The knife went in with only token resistance, and came out again just as fast, bringing a torrent of blood with it. They panicked, scrabbling at the wound, trying to stem the flow. I took the opportunity to wiggle away, heaving them over onto their front, pining one elbow with my knee and holding the other tightly with both hands, watching the red stain spreading out from their neck as they struggled desperately, denying the fact that it was already too late.
Their struggles slowed, then ceased. I still held on, waiting until I could no longer hear the sickening spurts of blood before relinquishing my grip, checking for a pulse on their wrist. There was none.
I took a deep breath, shivering all over to work the crippling adrenaline rush out of my system before cleaning my knife on their pants and shoving it away. I didn't turn the body over as I worked their gun out from underneath them and then extracted the radio with a little more difficulty.
Wiping the blood off onto the carpet, I looked it over. It wasn't much more sophisticated than the walkie Malcolm had given me to take up to the mountains. A power and volume dial on the top, and an extendable antenna. Nothing much. I clipped it onto the outside of my pants. It could be useful later if only to hear what they tried to say to this one. I glanced at the body once more, then picked up their gun. Ejecting the magazine, I shoved it into my pocket and dumped the gun in a filing cabinet before walking away, leaving the door from the stairway wide open.
.
.
The first one had been the hardest, but more because of my expectations than because of the deed itself. I'd carried on. I'd slept, and woken, and eaten. Just like before. Like nothing had changed at all. So I thought maybe nothing had.
The next one was easier, and I had felt anything at the next one. I hadn't felt anything in days.
Oddly, being the one to deal out the death had clarified to me Caesar's stance on the bodies I'd returned. There was nothing special in the sacks of meat we left behind. Once we were gone, we were gone. Nothing was left behind of us. It only became important to those who remained. I felt no guilt about leaving the body in the bank. They had probably been ordered there. Let those who had given the orders deal with the consequences.
Callous? The voice was quiet, quieter than ever, and I had no problem dismissing it as I jogged away from the bank. This was war, and I knew which side I was on. All's fair in war, after all.
.
.
A/N: Please don't hate me. I've had so many comments with variations of liking Jac keeping her humanity, but she was fully in the driver's seat for this. I seriously considered pulling into a different route, but she wasn't having it. So here we are. Sorry.
Please know that I do not condone violence or murder, against anyone for any reason. There is always another option, and there is always someone you can talk to. Please reach out if you have violent urges. Peace out.