opposite direction but slipped in his own blood from the torn leg. The vermin were on him in an instant, smothering his body with their own foul smelling forms, biting into him, pushing each other aside to get at his flesh. His arms beat at them growing weaker and weaker at every effort until he finallylay them across his face for protection, allowing the creatures to gorge themselves on his body.
Raising one arm from his eyes, he stared up uncomprehendingly at the huge coloured screen above him.
His eyes read the words, and his voice spoke them faintly, but his brain did not understand. He whispered ‘The End’.
George Fox had worked at the zoo for twenty-odd years now. Unlike many of his comrades he had a deep regard for the animals in his care; he worried when one of his lions was unwell, pampered his pet gazelle when it was off its food and once even spent a sleepless night at the side of a dying snake.
When hooligans had broken into his bird-house and for no other reason than sheer bloodlust had slaughtered thirty of his exotically coloured winged friends, he’d broken down and cried for three days.
He had a deep sympathy and understanding of his animals, big or small, ferocious or docile.
Even when a monkey had bitten off half his ear a few years back he hadn’t reprimanded it, but gently put it down, ignoring the pain, and quietly left the cage clasping a blood soaked handkerchief to his injured part.
And tonight, he felt the zoo was restless. There wasa stillness in the air, a quietness unnatural toLondon’s large animal estate - but the animals weren’t sleeping. As he made his rounds he noticed the beasts prowling to and fro in their cages, the monkeys huddled together staring out nervously into the night, the birds silently blinking on their perches.
Only the lunatic laugh of the hyena disturbed the uneasy silence.
‘Easy now, Sara,’ he soothingly reassured Iris favourite cheetah in the large cat-house. ‘Nothing to be nervous of ?
Suddenly, the screeching of birds broke through the night.
Sounds like the aviary, he told himself, making for the door and running towards the tunnel that led under the public road to the canal where the fantastic bird sanctuary stood.
He was joined by another keeper at the entrance of the underground passage.
‘What’s up; George?’ the man gasped.
’Don’t know yet, Bill. Something disturbed the birds, sounds like they’re going mad.’
They plunged into the dark tunnel using their torches for added light. As they emerged on the other side they heard a squeal from the giraffe section. To their horror they saw one of the graceful creatures racing round its enclosure with large black creatures clinging to its trembling body. It plunged into the water acting as a moat around its paddock and thrashed about crazedly.
‘Oh my Gawd - what is it?’ asked Bill, unsure of what he’d seen in the night light.
‘I’ll tell you what it is,’ cried George. ‘It’s those bloody rats. The ones that are supposed to have been exterminated the giant rats!’ He took several steps towards the helpless animal but then turned back to Bill. ‘Back to the office, quick. Get on the phone to the police - tell them it’s an attack on the zoo by the rats! Tell them we need every avail-able help we can get! Hurry!’
He ran towards the giraffe again, knowing there was nothing he could do for the poor creature, but going on anyway. He turned as he heard a human scream coming from the tunnel and saw Bill emerge, swarming with black shapes and what must have been blood gushing from his head. He saw him go down, half rise and slump forward again.
‘God Almighty,’ he breathed. He had to get to the telephone. There was another ticket office in this section but would mean passing the rat-filled tunnel and crossing the bridge over the canal. And the canal must have been where they came from. Those bastards said they’d cleared out the rats, they were all dead or dying. But the vermin are killing my animals. My poor animals!
He moaned aloud, not knowing what to do. Finally, he decided on a plan of action, trying to ignore the cries from the rat-besieged animals in that section. He ran towards the fence protecting the zoo from the dividing road and scrambled over it in hurried clumsiness. He fell over on to the other side and as he sprawled there he saw the lights of an approaching car. Scrambling to his feet, he ran into the road, waving his arms frantically. At first it seemed as though the car was going to drive on, but the driver must have seen his uniform in the glare of his headlights. It screeched to a halt causing George to jump to one side to avoid being hit.
The excited keeper was shouting instructions even as the driver was winding the window down. At the uncomprehending look on the motorist’s face, George began again: ‘Call the police, tell them rats, hundreds of them, are attacking the zoo. If they don’t get here soon, the bastards will slaughter my animals! Move, man, move!’
As the car sped off a horrifying thought struck George.
When the police and the soldiers got there, the only weapon they’d be able to use would be gas. And gas would be just as lethal to his animals as it would be to the vermin. He cried out in despair and ran across the road to the main entrance of the zoo. Climbing the turnstile, he saw the figures of two other keepers on night duty approaching him at a run.
‘Is that you, George?’ one of them shouted, shining a torch into his face.
‘Yes, it’s me,’ he answered, shielding his eyes with his arm.
‘Get out, George, come on. The whole place is swarming with rats! Those giant ones. They’re after the animals.’
‘No, we’ve got to let them out, turn them loose - we can’t let them be slaughtered.’
‘Not bloody likely, we’re getting out, there’s nothing we can do. And you’re coming with us!’ So saying, he grabbed the old keeper’s arm and tried to pull him back towards the turnstile. George struck outblindly, knocking the torch from his colleague’s grasp and ran off towards the main office.
‘Leave him-, Joe,’ the other man said. ‘We’ll only get ourselves killed chasing him. Let’s get out of here.
George ran, his lungs bursting, ignoring the dark shapes that were streaming from the tunnel, and tore up the short flight of steps that led to the office where all the keys to the cages were kept. By now, the zoo had erupted into an explosion of sound. Roars, shrieks, squawks, bellows - all combined to create tumultuous pandemonium. He snatched as many key bunches from their racks as he could carry, knowing exactly which belonged to each section, and ran from the office.
He stopped aghast at the sight of the mighty gorilla, the old man of the zoo, recapturing its ancient primitive majesty, pulling the rats apart with its great hands, crushing their bones with its immense strength, tossing them away like limp rags. But even its might had to succumb to the unlimited number of razor-toothed vermin. They swarmed over the gorilla, enraged by its strength, and brought it crashing to the floor where it still fought bravely on..
George watched the impressive creature’s death-struggle in fascinated silence but movements around his legs brought him to his senses. Looking down, he saw the wretched-looking dark bodies flowing past him, inexplicably ignoring him. In a rage, he kicked out at them, but still they sped on, eager to fill themselves on the trapped animals.
The keeper ran with them, unlocking cages and swinging their doors open wide as he went. Many of the unfortunate animals merely crouched at the rear of their abodes whilst others saw their chance for freedom and hurled themselves through the open doors. The birds were the luckiest – they could take to the air. But for the other creatures, their only means of escape was speed. The prouder ones stayed to fight and killed many of the vermin before they themselves fell, but the majority chose to flee. When they reached the outer fences of the zoo, they threw themselves at it, going mad with the frustration of being trapped. Some managed to clear it - the apes or the more fleet-looted - but the others either cringed against it or raced around its perimeter.
The old keeper found himself at the big cat-house. Still he hadn’t been attacked by the vermin; his mind never questioned it, he was too distressed over the plight of his beloved animals to worry about his own safety. The roars were deafening as he ran for the iron cages, the cats snarling both in fear and defiance.
He reached the lions and unhesitatingly unlocked the metal doors.
‘Come on, Sheik, come onSheba,’ he called to them softly, urging them to come out. He raced along, unlocking all the cages, oblivious to the danger. The lion sprang forward with an angry roar as it saw several dark shapes coming through the doors of the cat house. It tore them into shreds, tossing them into the air with its jaws, ripping their bodies with its claws. As more poured in, the other cats joined with the lion in the slaughter of the vermin; the tiger, the leopard, the panther, the puma, the jaguar, and the cougar all joined in the fight against the
