Dawn of the Planet of the Apes: The Official Movie Novelization

16

The Colony was built into the lower levels of a skyscraper that had been in progress when the plague struck, and still stood unfinished, its upper floors a steel skeleton with cranes still braced against the clusters of girders that framed elevator shafts.

The lower twenty floors or so had flooring, and had been turned into housing for the few thousand people who, for all they knew, were the last surviving humans on earth. The bottom six floors occupied the entire block, and enclosed what had been envisioned as an upscale mall and luxury office complex.

Dreyfus had chosen the location carefully. The triple arch of the building’s main gateway was easily defended, and other entrances had been blocked for years. At first they had built defenses against gangs and loose militias that had ravaged the city during the plague’s first years. As time went on and more and more people died, however, many of those marauders “came in from the cold,” as it were, joining what came to be called the Colony.

Now they all had to stick together.

Part of the mall was open to the air. Its roof had fallen in during the earthquake and they had never had the resources to spare for repairs.

An open area on the other side of the building had once offered parking and delivery space. The Colony’s mechanics and engineers had taken it over, and their meager supplies of fuel were stored there. Long lines for fuel were a fact of life. There was very little of it, and as the years passed, they were able to find less and less in sealed tanks throughout the city. Much of what they did find went to power the generators that gave the interior of the Colony power for a few hours a day.

Inside the ground floor of the Colony, where there were supposed to be salons charging sixty bucks for a haircut next to boutique clothing stores and gelato stands, they had established a bazaar where time was the only currency, and barter was the general rule. Every morning, groups went out into the city, ranging as far as they could while making certain they could return to the Colony by nightfall. Occasionally Dreyfus authorized longer expeditions, but some of those didn’t come back.

There were animals. There were accidents. What they didn’t have, Malcolm thought, was enough people.

A broad outdoor staircase led from the entrance to street level. Barricades and sentry platforms lined it and covered two of the three openings. The third had a reinforced gate. It had been a while since they needed to hold the Colony against any violence, but Dreyfus insisted they maintain the defensive measures. He called it—to anyone within earshot—a “better-safe-than-sorry” approach to the security of the Colony.

“You never know what’s coming,” he told everyone. “We can’t assume we’re the only ones left, and we can’t assume the next people we see will be friendly.”

Assume nothing… but if you’re going to assume something, assume the worst. That was Dreyfus.

They got out of the trucks and headed in. On the way, Malcolm dropped a hand on Alexander’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, noting his son’s morose demeanor. “I’m sorry you lost your bag back there.”

Alexander shrugged. That was his response to lots of things lately. Malcolm tried not to let it get to him. Fifteen was a tough age, even when you hadn’t grown up during the collapse of human civilization.

“You okay?” Ellie asked on his other side.

Alexander nodded after a moment. Malcolm focused on that moment. His son wouldn’t have given it to him. Ellie could get through to the boy, even though she wasn’t his mother. She made no effort to replace Malcolm’s mother. She was just there. She had made a point of being there until he trusted her. Also, she was a better listener than Malcolm, which meant she picked up on things he didn’t.

Right now, however, he exchanged a look with her and saw that they were both thinking the same thing. Behind Alexander’s hesitation was something that they all would have to talk about sooner rather than later. Call it fatherly instinct, call it something else, he knew something was on his son’s mind… and he had a suspicion that it had to do with the apes.

Alexander seemed on the verge of opening up to Ellie, but he never got the chance because Foster jumped out of the second truck and came storming over to Malcolm.

“Hey, man, I just talked to Carver,” he said. “We’re not gonna tell anybody what happened up there?”

“Not yet,” Malcolm said. “Dreyfus has a plan. We need to stick to it. That’s what’s gotten us this far.”

Foster shook his head. Malcolm could already see him lining up with Carver and Kemp, who would want to go right out and slaughter the apes. Malcolm had no problem with eliminating the apes, if they were going to be hostile—but that wasn’t what had happened. If anything, Carver’s itchy trigger finger had set things off. Maybe it was up to the humans to make sure tension didn’t escalate.

“Foster,” Malcolm said. “This isn’t the time to go off half-cocked. We need the dam working. That’s more important than anything else. Right?”

“Right,” Foster said, but it took him longer than Malcolm would have liked. Then he walked off to rejoin Carver and Kemp.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Ellie asked as they watched him go.

“I hope not,” Malcolm said.

“Maybe we should tell Dreyfus,” she said.

“I think he already understands that he needs to keep an eye on Carver,” Malcolm replied.

“Maybe, but you should tell him anyway,” Ellie said.

Malcolm nodded. “I will. But let’s get inside. Whatever happens, it isn’t going to happen today.”