Kingdom of Monsters by John Schneider (latest novels to read .TXT) 📕

– along with what sounded like the snorting of an eight-ton gorilla.

Mark had been navigating a particularly nefarious, near-vertical tangle of roots that seemed to be a hybrid-mutation of thorns and bristles.  Already scuffed and bleeding, he had nonetheless hauled himself up and over the worst of it, hunkering down out of sight.

He checked his bag.  He was down to one can of tear gas.  His pistol was useless.  That left his rifle, which he'd dotted that big ape with twice, and the beast had just covered up and taken it in his arms.

It might be different with a head shot.

The wind, at least, seemed to be with him.  Mark didn't know what kind of noses gorillas had, although he doubted it was on par with Rexy.  Still, his scent might carry.

There was also that big pile of shit for a distraction.  Mark hadn't showered lately, but he didn't think he could overpower that.

The bushes surrounding the clearing parted and the giant ape shuffled into view.

Mark held still, his rifle steady, his shot lined up right in the middle of the massive domed skull.

He waited for the beast to turn in his direction.

The big ape lumbered over, and seemed to be inspecting the six-foot dung-pile, actually setting back on his haunches and shaking his head.

Mark held his breath, finger tensed on the trigger.

The big ape turned, rising up on two legs, scanning the brush, and for a moment, Mark thought it had spotted him.

Then the beast dropped back down to all-fours, and with a disgruntled sigh, trundled out of the clearing.  Mark could hear the crash of brush as the big gorilla seemed to be making his way up the mountain – roughly towards the same peak Mark was headed.

Perfect.  Why not?

Mark shut his eyes.  Was he really going to follow through with this?

He let himself down out of the brush.  The giant ape had left a trail to follow, right through the briers.

“Oh what the hell,” Mark breathed as he stepped into the makeshift path of crushed greenery in the big gorilla's wake.  He kept his rifle ready.

In the clearing behind him, the brush rustled again, this time from just a few feet above the briers Mark had been wrestling through.

Junior's head poked out from where he'd lain, for twenty, patient minutes, plotting his ambush, as Mark now turned in the other direction.

With a grumbling scowl, the little beast hopped down through the brier patch and followed.

Chapter 14

Caesar was a fairly young silverback, but was still the alpha of his tribe.

The last time he had been measured by his human keepers, he was just over twenty-three-feet tall, heel to crown, and just under eight-tons.

He was the second largest Gorilla gigantis ever measured, but the other guy was a moron.

The ape tribe was not like Otto's saurians – they were not bred into the wild.

Congo had been the original, the one and only, back on the island – a further experiment in intelligence, intended as an improvement over Otto, by virtue of starting with a much more naturally evolved brain.

Caesar was among the brightest of his clade.  If measured on a human IQ test, with all appropriate allowances, he would have scored average human – 95 or 100.

Of course, he was still an ape first, and one that had been bred as a potential practical application – the only one ever done with any of Hinkle's work, and one that had been conducted completely within the darkest corridors of Area 51, far from the old man's personal knowledge.

Hinkle had been testy about such things in the past, and so, out of consideration for his sensibilities, the powers-that-be decided not to tell him.

The elders of the ape-tribes, including Caesar himself, had been bred with an eye to their intelligence, combined with size, as a potential form of soldier/attack-animal.

Originally a troop of two-dozen – all given code-names – Grape Ape, Konga, Big Joe, Cornelius, a tubby fellow called Dr. Zaius, and of course, Brutus, who was two years younger than Caesar, but a full twenty-five feet tall and almost nine tons.

But 'Project Donkey Kong' was an utter failure.  Apes weren't dim-witted minions, and the larger and more powerful you made them also meant more dominant, resistant to efforts at training, not to mention alpha-male laziness.

Eventually, the project was abandoned, and the subjects ordered put-down.  It was an order that had been issued over speaker, in full earshot of Caesar himself.

It was a remarkable trait in humans – they could create him, make him intelligent, and then still not believe in him.  Caesar had promptly taken the news back to his fellows, and the troop of them had trashed the place and escaped into the mountains.

Of all the genetically-born denizens, lurking unseen in these protected lands, the ape-tribe was the most isolated of all.  They knew enough to stay away from humans, and the elevation minimized contact with the saurians.

The apes were also the only animals that hadn't been released as part of Otto's apocalypse.

Otto had been like a mascot at Area 51, and Caesar knew that little bastard well.

And now, for some reason, he could feel him.

An awareness, that had seemingly just clicked on.

Just like he could also suddenly feel the T. rex.

And her.

Shanna.

Inexplicably, he knew her name.

Caesar was not like Congo – he wasn't raised on an island with her, he had never even heard of her.  But he could feel her presence, just like the warmth of a sunbeam.

And lately, that warm glow had grown.  All his tribe felt it.

Unfortunately, there was also that accompanying smelling-salts-burn of Otto.

And probably not coincidentally, just recently, there had been more blooms.

The vegetarian apes had not been at great risk from the Food of the Gods.  Caesar had learned to spot areas of infection by what it did to the indigenous animals – scavenging mammals and birds turned inside-out.  If you saw that, it was advisable not to consume the foliage in the general area.

Brutus, on the other hand, was perhaps not