I smile, shaking my head and shoving him. “All right, keep moving.” Yet there’s still something strange about all this that I can’t quite put my finger on.
Clang. Clang.
Metal meets metal above my head.
I glance up. Another banner is waving in the breeze, the brokenhook smacking the metal light post. Unlike the panda banner it’s in one piece, and although it’s faded, I can read what it says: “Smithsonian National Zoological Park.”
Clang.
Right below the words is a picture of a lion. Its mane is large around its head, its mouth open in a ferocious roar. I stop breathing and my flesh crawls.
Henri’s monsters.
She said they come out at night. The growling. The scratching at her fence. There are no bodies in the street because something’sbeen cleaning up, not someone.
I scan the street again, my eyes wide in terror. The birds all died off because the virus transferred from them to us, but the other animals remained immune. The Smithsonian National Zoo is just a few blocks away. The animals could have escaped their enclosure, or someone let them out. If we believe Darwin, it means we’re right in the middle of the fittest’s hunting ground.
Clang. Clang.
Andrew realizes he’s twenty or thirty paces in front of me and turns around. “What’s wrong?”
I take the rifle from my shoulder and put my finger to my lips. He mouths the wordwhatas he scans the street. I close the distance between us in a few steps and pull him close, speaking quietly.
“The animals from the zoo—thoseare Henri’s monsters. The one last night was probably small because she said the first one jumped over the fence—something like that.” I point up at the lion on the banner and Andrew’s eyes go wide. “Which means they’re still aroundhere. They’re hunting as far as Bethesda, so maybe they’ve moved on from here, but we have to be quick and quiet.”
Andrew nods. I point ahead to continue down Massachusetts Avenue toward the points-of-interest signs for Dupont Circle and a few museums and monuments, the clanging of the banner hook following us like the sound of a dinner bell. Andrew takes the gun from his hip and we walk as quickly as we can, scanning the street around us as we move.
There’s a small park to our left, trees line the street, and the grass on both sides of us has become overgrown.
My mind flashes back to nature documentaries, the leopards and cheetahs lying low in the high grass of the African savanna.
“We need to get off this road,” I say.
Then I see them—yellow eyes watching us from the tree line. I freeze. I lift the rifle scope to my eye and get a closeup look at the lion. He’s crouched down low, ready to pounce at any moment.
As soon as we run.
“Andrew,” I call after him. He stops, turning to look at me and raising the gun.
“Oh God.” His voice is barely a whisper.
“He’s watching us.” My mouth is dry and sweat soaks my shirt. “When I say the word, run as fast as you can. Don’t stop no matter what happens.”
“Jamie.” His voice is still low. I glance over at him but he isn’t looking at the lion in the trees. He’s looking behind me.
I turn my head slowly. I don’t know how long she’s been following us, but there she is. A large, muscular lioness walking toward us.
I turn back to the male lion in the trees. He isn’t hunting; he’s watching.
“Andrew,” I call out, not bothering to keep my voice quiet anymore. “Run!” I don’t watch to see if he is listening. Instead I whirl around on the lioness that’s just thirty feet from me. I see her through my scope and this time—for the first time—I have no trouble pulling the trigger.
The lioness charges at me as red explodes from her right shoulder. She howls in pain and probably anger.
I pull the bolt, dropping the rifle shell from the chamber and replacing it with a new one.
The trees rustle as the male charges from the tree line. I whirl around on him and pull the trigger on the rifle again. I miss him and hit the ground, but he jerks back.
Growing up in captivity, he knows what I am, and while he’s probably never seen a rifle, he isn’t dumb. He stops charging and his back arches, his hair standing on end as he lets out a roar that reverberates throughout my whole body.
