Notes:

Warnings: graphic description of blood and a seizure.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

2016

It is only a day after the Rise of the Apes, and everything is already going to shit. They called it the "Monkeygate Scandal" on the news (stupid name if you asked Evie). Their ideas on why the apes suddenly went crazy and started an uprising generally weren't any better than Danny's 'ape rabies' theory. There was always at least one guy speculating that the 'terrorists' did it. Who the terrorists were and how exactly they'd made the apes go mad in the first place was never made clear.

Evie, Amber, Danny, and Mom are eating dinner when the CDC and WHO declare a medical emergency and quarantine measures in San Francisco. Some new mysterious airborne virus. Fever and a cough. Eight people dead.

Mom's eyes are glued to the screen and she starts chewing on her thumbnail nervously. There's a look in Mom's eyes that Evie doesn't like.

Mom insists on watching the whole report from start to finish. That's not weird in itself - Mom watches the news every morning because she "likes to know what is going on in the world": AKA looking out for a report on Dad. No, what's so weird this time is how focused she is on the screen, shushing them every time they try to talk.

Danny sighs – he clearly thinks Mom is being her usual neurotic self. Evie's not sure what to think, not sure whether she should be afraid. She's heard about other pandemics (Ebola, swine flu) and even remembers the SARS epidemic in Toronto when she was younger. Nobody acted like any of them were a big deal then and she was too young to think about it all that much anyway.

When the report finishes, Amber turns to Mom uneasily, looking for reassurance. We don't need to worry about it? she asks Mom hopefully. Because we're in Canada? And it's in America?

Mom slowly nods, not really seeing Amber. Mom pulls her thumb away from her mouth and Evie sees blood trickling down from where she has bitten it so hard.

The day after, Mom pulls them all out of school. She won't let them go out of the house anymore and she starts getting their groceries delivered.

Danny's pissed off and lets Mom know it. "Mom you're overreacting," he complains. "They haven't even reported it in Canada. It's in San Francisco! And we live in the middle of fucking nowhere!"

Evie can't help but agree. Their house, located by a country road running along the edge of a woods, was deliberately chosen by Mom for its isolation. The nearest town is an hour away, the nearby gas station forty minutes. Mom liked the feeling of being in their own little bubble, undisturbed by cars and people.

Dad hated it. He would have preferred if they lived in New York, where he grew up, but Mom was adamant that Canada would be better for a family. He'd definitely tell you all about that if he was here. That argument endured for years, even when they'd already moved and had kids. They would always use their sickly-sweet voices when they did, acting as if they were joking with each other.

Dad would usually say something like: Maybe if we lived in New York we wouldn't have to spend hundreds of dollars just dropping the kids off to school.

And then Mom would say: Well if we lived in New York our children probably would have gotten lung cancer from the fumes by now!

Jeez. Evie wonders how they lasted so long.

"Maybe," Mom says pleasantly to Danny, "but it's good to take precautions. The least that can happen is you miss out on a few days of school and seeing your friends."

"Dad wouldn't do this," Danny mutters and they all know it's a low blow. Mom winces and Evie fights the urge to slap Danny on the back of his head.

"No," Mom says quietly, "but your father isn't here." They both leave it at that, but Evie can tell Danny feels bad about it.

For the rest of the week they try to fight the boredom. Evie and Amber play all the games they can think of: UNO, hide and seek, dolls. Danny keeps to himself mostly, playing computer games in his room.

Mom tries to prevent them from seeing the news, but she can't stop them completely. Every time Mom locks them out of the front room in the morning to check for daily updates on the virus, Evie and Amber quietly pad up to Danny's room to watch the world fall apart from his laptop, knowing Mom won't be able to catch them out for at least an hour.

Less than a week after the Rise, the US is falling apart. 250,000 people dead and San Francisco is in chaos. Shaky camera footage uploaded online shows people looting stores, setting buildings ablaze and fighting to the death for bottles of water. The Muir Woods, the woods the apes went into, are on fire. The city is on fire. Fires everywhere.

There are no warnings for violence on the news anymore – violence and terror is all they report on. They cover Amber's eyes for the really violent stuff.

People on the news talk about the horrific symptoms, the bloody nose, coughs, eyes, ears. They say that people should stay at home. They say that anyone showing symptoms should be isolated from other people. They say that escaped apes and the virus are connected, and they start calling it the 'Simian Flu'. They say the virus has spread into other countries now, even Canada.

"This really is some 28 Days Later shit," Danny whispers. "The end actually is fucking nigh!"

Evie would usually punch Danny in his side for joking about stuff like that, but she can hear the fear in his voice. She holds his hand in hers and for once he doesn't pull away. Wow, it really is the end of the world.

It had been three days and the human wasn't dying fast enough for Koba.

Ever since the human had been tucked away in the Shelter, Koba couldn't rest. Every time he would lay back and try to sleep, he would feel a cold prickling on his scars and his body would pulse with hot rage. It didn't matter that the human was nowhere near his hut or that he couldn't physically see it. It had violated his home, a home where apes were meant to be free, free from the evil of humans. And now it was here, Koba couldn't sleep, not even for a moment.

Koba had accepted it at the start. Despite his misgivings about taking the human in, Caesar had reassured him. Koba had been afraid that Caesar would be swayed by his love for humans - more so by Maurice being the soft-hearted, trusting orang that he was. But Caesar had not failed them. When he explained the certainty of the human's demise to Koba, he realised that Caesar still had ape's best interests at heart. Of course he did: he was the one that freed them after all. Koba had been a fool to doubt him.

Nevertheless, when Koba eventually recovered from the shock of seeing the human, he could admit that Caesar's plan made sense. If they had killed the human outright, the lab apes would have been angry and attacked them. So, by allowing the sickness to do its work, they would not be blamed for the human's death and the lab apes could be welcomed into their new home. Their true home.

Koba regretted his initial reaction to the lab apes. If the human hadn't been there, he would have instantly embraced them as one of his own, as they were. While apes from labs weren't necessarily rare in the Colony, they were a fraction compared to apes from zoos or sanctuaries. His old friend Pope had been a lab ape too, but he was not like Koba. He had been corrupted by humans, twisted into their image. But he would never plague the Colony again – Koba had made sure of that.

Seeing the lab apes, their disfigured bodies, and miserable, frightened eyes, Koba had wanted to reach out to them, to tell them that they were safe now. But then he'd seen the human all wrapped up nice and warm being carried by an ape and that old, familiar fury returned to him. It had only gotten worse when the lab apes defended the human, begging for its life. Begging! Those apes would beg for a human's life when their own lives meant nothing to it!

The hatred had welled up in him and he'd erupted at them, jeered at them, denounced them as liars when all he wanted to do was to help them see. See that they didn't need the human, that they had never needed humans.

But they couldn't – wouldn't - see. The chimp with the scarred face, Travis, was exceptionally protective of the human. He'd infuriated Koba to the point that Koba had wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him as if he could shake out the lies the human had filled his head with.

When they all returned to the village, Koba told himself that once the human was dead, the lab apes would, in time, understand. They might grieve for a while but Koba was sure that they would eventually see the truth – that humans made apes depend upon them, made them weak. Koba himself would help them and teach them how to be free, just as Caesar had taught them all how to be free.

Yet, this did not happen. The human did not die, and the lab apes did not stop coming to see her. After the human had been placed in the Shelter, Koba believed that the human would be left to die as the lab apes were settled in the Village but that hadn't come to pass either. Instead, Cornelia had insisted on caring for the human, instructing healers to tend to her. Though Koba refused to degrade himself by asking after the human's wellbeing, he'd heard Cornelia and Tinker discussing the human's ability to still eat and drink. This annoyed Koba – the whole point was to let the human die, not prolong its wretched life. It was a waste of good food and water.

Most of the lab apes continued to visit the human. Excluding the slow, agonising death of the human he'd been promised, it was one of Koba's biggest disappointments. Koba had hoped that being in the presence of their own kind would encourage the lab apes to let go of the human and embrace their ape brothers and sisters. However, if anything, the lab apes were even more determined to keep apart from the Village apes, preferring to hide in their huts unless they were visiting the human or fetching food and water.

Out of all the lab apes, Koba noted that Rama and Eshu were the only ones not visiting the human. That could be something useful. Other than that, the rest of the lab apes visited at least once a day, with Travis, Bad Ape and Sugriva constantly by its side.

The baby orang was still being cared for by the female gorilla, Kali. Although Koba didn't live near Kali and her family, he'd heard apes that did complaining that the infant refused to rest, squealing and squalling for most of the day. Koba personally didn't blame the baby girl for its perverse attachment to the human – it was clearly confused, snatched from its real mother by a human who'd duped it into thinking that it was the girl's mother. He did, however, blame the other adult lab apes. They were grown - they should have known better than to allow the girl to become so closely bonded with a human, to allow it to become so helpless.

In the meantime, Koba went on more hunting trips, struggling to purge the constant, burning resentment he felt. He didn't dare stray too far or for too long. It didn't matter that Grey and Stone had promised him that they would keep an eye on the human. He wanted to be close in case it tried any of its human tricks.

But Koba couldn't wait any longer. He was convinced that there had to be something wrong with the human. It was taking too long to die, and he wanted to know why.

Caesar was sitting with Maurice at their favourite spot overlooking the Village and the mountain when Koba approached him, head bowed obediently. They were almost certainly discussing lessons for the younger apes. Or they could be talking about the human, a voice whispered in Koba's head. Perhaps it has become more important to them than other apes. Koba shook the ridiculous thought from his mind but he could feel it nonetheless, heavy and dark in his head.

Brother, Caesar greeted him warmly. Maurice rumbled softly in welcome.

My brothers, Koba said, holding out his palm to Caesar. Caesar ran his hand across Koba's palm in response. It was one of the only touches that Koba would allow – he could scarcely tolerate physical contact from any of the other apes except his nephew Blue Eyes. It wasn't that Koba didn't want to be touched. He just couldn't understand how to stop the icy tingling of his scars, the memory of the cold metal slice of the humans' blade from exploding all over his skin at the slightest touch. With Caesar and Blue Eyes it was different. Their touch made him light and warm, as his mother's had. Like a family's should be.

I wanted to talk to you about the apes from the lab, Koba said, eyes lowered. I know that you said to leave them in peace while the human is sick. But it has been days now and I worry about them.

Why do you worry about them Koba? Caesar asked, his brows furrowed.

I worry that we do not know everything we should know about them. I worry that apes may know something about the human that we need to know. I think we should ask the three apes in the Shelter more about the lab and the human. They are the closest to the human. They must know the most about it - her.

Maurice frowned. They will not leave Eve. We have tried, but they refused. They don't want to leave her when she is so vulnerable. And it might distress them if we ask about what happened to them. They have been through much.

That might be, Koba contended, but it is important to apes that we know of any dangers to the Village. What if the human is sick with a different disease, one dangerous to apes? What if other humans are trying to find the apes and the human?

Caesar gazed at Koba thoughtfully. Koba could tell Caesar was contemplating what he had said. Caesar exhaled.

You are right, Caesar said. While it may upset the apes, we should know more about them and the girl to ensure that the Village is safe. I will invite Travis, Bad Ape and Sugriva to discuss this at my home. Hopefully, that will put them more at ease and they will be able to tell us more.

Perhaps Cornelia and I should be there as well, Maurice suggested. They trust us the most out of all apes. His quick glance at Koba implied that he was definitely not.

Caesar nodded. Yes. That would be for the best.

Though Koba managed to keep the smile off his face, inside he was jubilant. Now he could do what he really planned for.

The three apes took a lot of convincing – by Koba's judgment, Caesar, Maurice, and Cornelia had taken half an hour just coaxing the apes out of the Shelter. From a distance, Koba watched the three apes being led to the royal family's home. None of them looked happy about it, Travis least of all.

Waiting a few moments to be sure that they were gone, Koba strode up the Shelter, shouldering through the fur flaps without hesitation.

The first thing Koba noticed was the smell. The sharp metallic scent of blood clogged in Koba's throat and he grimaced in disgust. His eyes took a few moments to adjust to the darkness in the room and he could see that extra furs had been hung to shade the room as much as possible. In the furthest corner of the hut, Koba spied the cart piled with the human's garbage propped up against the wall, the purple strapped sack next to it. Alongside the adjacent wall, a large, dark shape was stretched out at the side and Koba knew he'd found the human.

Keeping his eye on the human, Koba warily edged towards the cart, taking care to keep as far away from the human as he possibly could. As he moved closer, Koba could hear the wet rattle of the human's breath. It repulsed him and he dashed to the cart. This is what he was here for. He wanted to see what they had brought with them. He wasn't sure what he expected to find; he only knew that he needed to ensure there wasn't anything dangerous.

Carefully peeling back the tarp cover on the cart, Koba began rifling through it. A lot of it seemed like useless rubbish to Koba: toys, books wrapped in crumbling plastic bags. But some of the objects were very interesting to Koba. Lifting a silver box out of the cart, Koba opened it up to uncover several plastic-capped syringes and glass tubes of liquid. He instinctively recoiled, a hiss bubbling out his throat. Did the human intend to poison the apes, just as they had poisoned him in the labs?!

He was about to run out and raise the alarm when he heard the human mutter something. Startled, Koba spun round to see the human laid out on its side, directly facing him. For a second, Koba thought it had been watching him, but he relaxed slightly when he saw that it's swollen, purple eyelids were tightly shut. The human took a prolonged, shuddering gasp and then mumbled again. Koba crept nearer. Was the human only pretending to be asleep?

Koba leant in as close as he dared to the human. Now that he was close, he could see the deathly pallor in its emaciated face contrasting with the shadows under it's eyes. Despite the sallowness of its skin, it's face was beaded with sweat, clearly feverish. It's nose, somewhat crooked, was big, even for a human. The human's alarmingly slender torso had been covered only by a thin fabric sheet. Underneath, the human wore a tattered green jumper with a cloth scarf around its neck. It's long legs were poking out from the sheet, exposing the frayed ends of its jeans and the thick woollen socks on its feet. The human's head was bolstered by a neat pile of furs, with another, much bigger pile set beside its head. A bowl was placed nearby, presumably to catch the blood coughed up or dripping out of the human. A wafer-thin layer of dry blood already crusted the bottom of the bowl.

To his surprise, the human's hair, a dull, lifeless auburn, was sprouting grey roots. Despite the fact Koba knew that humans developed slower and lived much longer than apes, the human appeared young to Koba – a young adult at most. The silver clip of a crescent moon, missing some of its tiny studded gems, was still threaded in it's hair and Koba, despite himself, wanted to touch it. He liked the shiny little moon. It reminded him of his secret treks up into the mountains to watch the moon and the stars in the sky when the nights were clear. Not that he'd let anyone else know that.

There was a hushed grunt and the large pile of fur next to the human's head suddenly twitched. Koba tensed – it was the wolf. He should have known that the wolf would have been left behind – it was probably the only reason the apes had left her alone in the first place. Not that Koba had completely forgotten about it; far from it. He loathed the creature on principle because of the attacks on apes by the scruffy things. Fortunately for him, it was fast asleep – for now.

The human whispered again and Koba could have sworn that he saw blood bubble between its pallid lips. "Danny … go away…" he thought it said.

Koba's anger grew. Was it playing games with him? Was it trying to wake the wolf up so it could attack him? Incensed, he jabbed in its side, hard enough to bruise. It let out a weak yelp and feebly swatted a hand at him. The wolf's body jolted and huffed. "Fuck off Danny!" it groaned, louder this time.

The wolf was stirring when the human's eyes snapped open and it's head jerked up, looking right at Koba. Some of the blood vessels in its eyes had burst, bleeding into its irises, painting them an alarming crimson. It's bright, glassy eyes fixated on Koba's and Koba reflexively shrank back, frightened.

"You're not Danny," it whispered in a breathless croak. It gulped. "No … not you."

The human gasped and the wolf padded to her side, somehow sensing what was going to happen before it did. A heartbeat later, the human's eyes rolled back and it's body started shaking violently. It's head quaked so forcefully that Koba could hear its teeth snapping together. The wolf whined and clambered onto the human's chest, appearing to try and hold the human still.

Koba was at a loss – he had no idea what to do, let alone knowing what the human was doing. Maybe it is dying, Koba thought. Maybe the wolf knows it too. Let it die.

Koba watched silently as the human trembled and seized, the wolf whimpering and burrowing its head into the human's chest. It's over. It's finally over -

An ear-piercing screech sounded from behind him. Clamping his hands to his ears, Koba whirled round on the excruciating shriek. Standing in the door of the Shelter was Banshee, his head thrown back in an unearthly howl. Ah. Koba had forgotten about him. Of course it was watching them. Snarling in pain and frustration, Koba had to fight the urge to slam the freakish thing against a wall for thwarting his plan to let the human die.

Footsteps hurried towards them. Koba's opportunity was gone. He stood aside as Tinker, Cornelia and the healers rushed in, swiftly followed by Caesar, Maurice, Travis, Bad Ape and Sugriva. Cornelia and the healers encircled the human, hemming Koba and the others into the opposite side of the hut, by the cart.

Travis rounded on Koba as soon as he saw him, trembling with rage. "You!" Travis roared at Koba accusingly. "What – did you – do?! You do – something - to her!"

"I do – nothing!" Koba shouted. "She – do that – to herself!"

"If you - hurt her -"

"Enough!" Caesar bellowed. Both scarred males stepped back and calmed themselves with difficulty, glowering at each other with pure hate.

"Koba – why you here? What – happened?" Caesar demanded in a distrustful tone.

That hurt Koba. Caesar had immediately thought that Koba had gone against his order not to harm the human.

"I … check. I check … to look in human's … things. Look for danger! I never - touch her!" Koba said shamefacedly. Remembering the needles, Koba scampered over to the cart, yanking out the metal box and presenting it to Caesar. "Koba find … needles – like needles in lab. Could harm apes! Poison them!"

The gorilla, Sugriva, stared Koba down, his face full of venom. "Medicine. Anti…biotics. For sickness," he rasped.

Koba faltered – he could see Caesar was losing patience and that Maurice was gaping at him with open incredulity. In desperation Koba rammed his hands into the cart, grabbing anything that his hands could get a hold of, tossing out anything worthless.

Caesar was moving to stop him when he felt the cool chill of steel underneath his palms. Gradually, he gripped the lengthy, smooth instrument and lifted it up high above his head, ensuring everyone could see. He didn't even need to look to know what he was holding.

"This … true … danger."

Sugriva and Travis' eyes went large with alarm. Bad Ape breathed a quiet "Oh no!" and Banshee scowled with his curiously empty, black gaze.

Held aloft in Koba's hand was a gun. A soldier's gun.

Later, Cornelia was sat beside Eve, holding the girl's hand. They were alone in the Shelter – Travis, Bad Ape, Sugriva, and Luna had been taken away, deemed too untrustworthy to be left alone. Banshee had scuppered away before anyone could stop him, but Cornelia was sure he was in the trees somewhere, observing from afar.

Cornelia and the healers had strived to stabilise Eve but there was nothing they could do except wait until the tremors stopped. They knew better than to hold her down, but it had pained Cornelia to watch Eve suffer. At one point, Eve's torso had bent back at a hideously unnatural angle, making Cornelia fear that the girl's spine would break under the pressure. After some time, the girl's seizure had ceased, and Eve finally lay still. Too still.

As the day bled into the evening, Eve hadn't moved. She didn't speak and would not respond when they tried to get her to eat and drink. Her breathing usually laboured and heavy was slow and deep. Cornelia couldn't remember what the humans had called it, but she thought that Eve had ultimately entered the sleep of the living dead. The sleep from which she would never wake.

Cornelia sent away Tinker and the others. There was nothing more they could do but Cornelia stayed. She didn't want Eve to be alone.

Stroking Eve's hand, Cornelia felt the girl's skin cooling down from its fever. It saddened Cornelia that the lab apes couldn't be here with her. It was not right that a stranger, not her friends, was with her as she passed.

A thought occurred to Cornelia. Lightly taking her hand out of Eve's, she slipped out of the Shelter, ordering the gorilla guard stationed outside to watch over her. She strode on, not stopping. Soon, she was there – Kali's hut. A gorilla guard was stationed outside her hut too; all the lab apes had now. Since the weapons cache had been discovered in the cart, Caesar had decided to have the lab apes watched for the Village's safety. Just in case. Prisoners in all but name.

Waving for the gorilla guard to stand aside, Cornelia entered the hut. Kali was sitting in her nest with Jambo, Bear and the baby orang. The infant was droopily laid across Kali's knees, tired out from its crying. Whereas Jambo glared at Cornelia, Kali smiled at her sadly.

"It … time?" Kali asked mournfully.

"Almost," Cornelia said. She looked meaningfully at the baby orang. "They need … each other … now."

Cornelia held out her arms and Kali gently passed the baby to her. Thanking Kali, Cornelia carried the baby back to the Shelter. Eve hadn't moved in the time that Cornelia was gone, still laying flat on her back. Tenderly, Cornelia laid the baby on Eve's chest. The baby girl stretched her limbs out, her face nuzzling into Eve's chest. Then, for the first time since she had been parted from Eve, the baby relaxed, curling it's fingers into Eve's jumper and setting its head right above Eve's heartbeat.

Swallowing tears, Cornelia backed away and took one last look at the two. She felt a bittersweet tug at her heart, and she had a painful longing for Caesar and Blue Eyes. Slowly, slowly, she walked away.

She didn't see Eve's arm slide round the baby, tucking the girl into the blanket.

Notes:

So we're finally here! Eve is coming out of her illness only to find out that everyone's in big, big trouble and that she's got a lot of explaining to do.
Thanks everyone for the love and feedback for the story so far - it definitely encourages me to continue posting more chapters :)